Outcast
Disclaimer: Not mine, yadayadayada.
A/N: I'd like to say thank you ot all of you who reviewed. I'm glad that you like my story!
Chapter 9
The golden sun shone warm upon Pippin's fragile, little body. He was sitting on a chair in front of his sister's house. Two months had passed and his father hadn't come to get him back; he had simply forgotten about his only son and Pippin was happy. There was only one thing that made him sad: Merry. His cousin hadn't bothered to come and see him. It hurt. It hurt too much to bear and so Pippin tried to ignore it, but it would come back to him sooner or later.
Merry was ill.
Seriously ill; actually the doctor and the midwives were already talking about his death. Something had happened to him, something that couldn't be explained. Something that would kill him; nobody knew what it was. Nobody, but Merry. It was his memory. He remembered what had happened in that night, that night that also plagued Pippin's dreams ...
"How is my son?", Mrs. Brandybuck asked Dr. Goodflower one evening, she was extremely worried.
"I wish I knew. That fever won't go back down, but that's not what's bothering me. I think he somehow doesn't wish to live anymore, Mistress Brandybuck."
She shook her head, not believing in what he had just said.
"That's impossible. My baby!" She started to cry. "He loves life! He's so young!" She was sobbing until her husband put a hand on her shoulder to support her. The doctor sighed.
"I'm so sorry, but ... I think it's because of the young Took. They should start to meet again. Maybe this could help him, but I'm not sure."
"Thank you, doctor.", Merry's father said and lead the other man to the door.
Merry was lying on his bed, sweat covering his awfully pale face. He clutched the blankets in his sleep.
"No ... no ... please ... Don't ..."
"What's wrong with him, Saradoc?", Merry's mother asked.
"I don't know, darling. I don't know."
Dreams ...
Why are they bothering me?
Why can't I escape?
NOOOOOO!!!
Disclaimer: Not mine, yadayadayada.
A/N: I'd like to say thank you ot all of you who reviewed. I'm glad that you like my story!
Chapter 9
The golden sun shone warm upon Pippin's fragile, little body. He was sitting on a chair in front of his sister's house. Two months had passed and his father hadn't come to get him back; he had simply forgotten about his only son and Pippin was happy. There was only one thing that made him sad: Merry. His cousin hadn't bothered to come and see him. It hurt. It hurt too much to bear and so Pippin tried to ignore it, but it would come back to him sooner or later.
Merry was ill.
Seriously ill; actually the doctor and the midwives were already talking about his death. Something had happened to him, something that couldn't be explained. Something that would kill him; nobody knew what it was. Nobody, but Merry. It was his memory. He remembered what had happened in that night, that night that also plagued Pippin's dreams ...
"How is my son?", Mrs. Brandybuck asked Dr. Goodflower one evening, she was extremely worried.
"I wish I knew. That fever won't go back down, but that's not what's bothering me. I think he somehow doesn't wish to live anymore, Mistress Brandybuck."
She shook her head, not believing in what he had just said.
"That's impossible. My baby!" She started to cry. "He loves life! He's so young!" She was sobbing until her husband put a hand on her shoulder to support her. The doctor sighed.
"I'm so sorry, but ... I think it's because of the young Took. They should start to meet again. Maybe this could help him, but I'm not sure."
"Thank you, doctor.", Merry's father said and lead the other man to the door.
Merry was lying on his bed, sweat covering his awfully pale face. He clutched the blankets in his sleep.
"No ... no ... please ... Don't ..."
"What's wrong with him, Saradoc?", Merry's mother asked.
"I don't know, darling. I don't know."
Dreams ...
Why are they bothering me?
Why can't I escape?
NOOOOOO!!!