My Merry-My Saviour.
Part One
"We all have to go sometime. When our days of young pass us and harsh frailty embodies us-takes us captive, makes us unable and incoherent. A never-ending fight of age took upon this Hobbit a time she lived to remember. And we shall never forget. To Pearl Took."
Pippin wiped his nose on his sleeve again. Tears streamed so much upon his cheeks, that there could well have been a flood if there were a hundred Pippins'. His sister wasn't even old. She wasn't aged or unable. She had just been sick. Pippin felt sick now. Not through illness or fever, but through harsh, painful loss. She was his closest sibling, by far. She might well have been the oldest, but she most certainly was the greatest. Pippin felt a strong arm around his shoulders. He expected it to be his father, but turned and saw Merry.
"Pippin-" Merry had not been there for the last words.
Merry had only just arrived, not even knowing of Pearl's death, or indeed, her illness. He'd been away to Bree with his father on last business, but word had reached them just that bit too late.
"Pippin I'm sorry," he said.
Pippin seemed to nod, seemed to acknowledge Merry's apology, but he was hurting far too much to even begin to see sense.
"Merry, I want to die." Pippin sniffled.
Merry's eyes widened a little. Pippin had spoken of words only Merry had nightmares of. Merry could not see life without Pippin-could not bare the thought of it, even. Pippin was always there, ready for fun, adventure and everything else.
"Where's Pimpernel? Pervinca?" Merry asked.
Pippin did not reply. He turned from Merry and walked slowly off away from the coffin. Merry stood there for a few moments. He couldn't just leave Pippin-not in that state-not in any state for that matter.
"Pippin, wait!" He called, following him.
Outside, Pippin had run to the barn. He'd hoped Merry wouldn't follow. Merry would always be there, but this time Pippin was afraid he'd hurt him too. Pippin knew what he was planning to do was not at all inexhaustible. Pippin knew that both Merry and his father would never forgive him, but he needed to be with Pearl so much. No one had noticed the tablets he'd stolen, the ones he'd slipped into his pocket before the send off. No one had any idea the future Thain planned to kill himself that night.
Merry had seen it all. And Merry intended to stop it.
***
Pippin raised a shaking hand to his mouth. One tablet-this wasn't so bad. He drunk down the tablet with a gulp of ale. He reached into his pocket, pulled out another one, and raised the mug to his lips. Closed his eyes, frowned as the tablet went down, swallowed, and then slowly opened his eyes again. Things were already getting strange. Things were already blurring into one, colliding the shapes and dank colours and twisting them all before his eyes. He felt a burning sensation in his chest. A pounding, so hard he thought his lungs might explode. He felt even more compressed and began to panic. This wasn't meant to happen. He was meant to go peacefully - in his sleep, not forcibly like this. It hurt so much. His chest seemed clouded, he couldn't breath, and he gasped and wheezed for air, reaching out, scrambling to the bails of hay and holding them, holding them as if for support.
"PIPPIN!" A voice far off seemed to make sense of it all.
Pippin couldn't see. Red dots shadowed his vision; his heart beat so loudly it seemed as though his ears were ringing. He couldn't breathe. The choking pain in his throat shooting all the way down to his stomach. His head felt light, he could not focus on anything, his breathing got rapid, his heart beating faster. His veins pounded his body, his blood running much too fast for his heart to cope.
Visions dipped before him. Ones of happier times. Ones with Pearl. Ones with Merry.
Merry.
Merry was there, Pippin sensed it. That strong grip around his shoulders again, a high-shriek of panic, but those strong arms remained, never leaving him, never letting go. Merry would try to help him. Merry always did. This time, Merry couldn't. This time Merry was to far away to help, despite being so very close. Pippin loved Merry. He was his very best friend, but he knew Merry would hate him after this. Merry was so scared. Pippin could vaguely hear his cousin's voice talking to him-telling him to hold on.
Pippin didn't want to hold on. He wanted to go. Wanted to be free. Merry wasn't free. Merry was still there, waiting, hoping, praying. Pippin knew he was being selfish. Pippin knew he should hold on, pull through, remain with Merry. But he didn't want to-not anymore. Not now Pearl had gone. First his mother, now Pearl. It was all just too much for him to take. To lose them both in not even the space of a year had torn Pippin apart.
Pippin couldn't feel the hay beneath his hands anymore. He wasn't even on the ground. He was being carried. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was what it felt like to die, when your soul rose from your body. Perhaps this was it. He couldn't make sense of anything at all, anymore. Nothing was clear. Nothing bound him to his world, the world of the living and the world of the dead. Where was he? Was he lost somewhere between?
Where was Merry? Pippin wanted Merry. He needed Merry so damn much. Merry would know what to do-he always knew what to do. He always helped Pippin out of trouble, but Pippin knew this trouble was beyond the help of his closest friend. Merry wasn't within reach. Pippin needed Merry's touch, needed a hand of life to bring him back, keep him back. Merry's hand wasn't there to take. Pippin felt blackness shroud him. Pippin's chest was so tight he knew these would be his very last ever breathes. Pippin felt his body go limp. His chest no longer hurt. His breathing wasn't strained. He faintly heard crying far off. Away, somewhere he felt he knew but could not place.
He no longer felt. No longer needed. He was free.
Merry gripped Pippin's hand so tightly. More tightly than ever. Pippin was only just hanging on. By only a thread it seemed, was Pippin's life balanced. Merry knew that thread was not of life, it was of friendship. Merry would hold on-longer than Pippin. Merry would hold on and never let go. Merry would not let go. Merry wanted his Pippin back. Merry needed his Pippin back. Merry loved his Pippin more than anyone did but he was losing him. Merry would not leave him. Pippin would never be alone. Pippin would always have his Merry.
And, late into the night, Merry remained holding on.
~ To be continued!!! Please R&R. Any comments are welcome. Bad or good.
"We all have to go sometime. When our days of young pass us and harsh frailty embodies us-takes us captive, makes us unable and incoherent. A never-ending fight of age took upon this Hobbit a time she lived to remember. And we shall never forget. To Pearl Took."
Pippin wiped his nose on his sleeve again. Tears streamed so much upon his cheeks, that there could well have been a flood if there were a hundred Pippins'. His sister wasn't even old. She wasn't aged or unable. She had just been sick. Pippin felt sick now. Not through illness or fever, but through harsh, painful loss. She was his closest sibling, by far. She might well have been the oldest, but she most certainly was the greatest. Pippin felt a strong arm around his shoulders. He expected it to be his father, but turned and saw Merry.
"Pippin-" Merry had not been there for the last words.
Merry had only just arrived, not even knowing of Pearl's death, or indeed, her illness. He'd been away to Bree with his father on last business, but word had reached them just that bit too late.
"Pippin I'm sorry," he said.
Pippin seemed to nod, seemed to acknowledge Merry's apology, but he was hurting far too much to even begin to see sense.
"Merry, I want to die." Pippin sniffled.
Merry's eyes widened a little. Pippin had spoken of words only Merry had nightmares of. Merry could not see life without Pippin-could not bare the thought of it, even. Pippin was always there, ready for fun, adventure and everything else.
"Where's Pimpernel? Pervinca?" Merry asked.
Pippin did not reply. He turned from Merry and walked slowly off away from the coffin. Merry stood there for a few moments. He couldn't just leave Pippin-not in that state-not in any state for that matter.
"Pippin, wait!" He called, following him.
Outside, Pippin had run to the barn. He'd hoped Merry wouldn't follow. Merry would always be there, but this time Pippin was afraid he'd hurt him too. Pippin knew what he was planning to do was not at all inexhaustible. Pippin knew that both Merry and his father would never forgive him, but he needed to be with Pearl so much. No one had noticed the tablets he'd stolen, the ones he'd slipped into his pocket before the send off. No one had any idea the future Thain planned to kill himself that night.
Merry had seen it all. And Merry intended to stop it.
***
Pippin raised a shaking hand to his mouth. One tablet-this wasn't so bad. He drunk down the tablet with a gulp of ale. He reached into his pocket, pulled out another one, and raised the mug to his lips. Closed his eyes, frowned as the tablet went down, swallowed, and then slowly opened his eyes again. Things were already getting strange. Things were already blurring into one, colliding the shapes and dank colours and twisting them all before his eyes. He felt a burning sensation in his chest. A pounding, so hard he thought his lungs might explode. He felt even more compressed and began to panic. This wasn't meant to happen. He was meant to go peacefully - in his sleep, not forcibly like this. It hurt so much. His chest seemed clouded, he couldn't breath, and he gasped and wheezed for air, reaching out, scrambling to the bails of hay and holding them, holding them as if for support.
"PIPPIN!" A voice far off seemed to make sense of it all.
Pippin couldn't see. Red dots shadowed his vision; his heart beat so loudly it seemed as though his ears were ringing. He couldn't breathe. The choking pain in his throat shooting all the way down to his stomach. His head felt light, he could not focus on anything, his breathing got rapid, his heart beating faster. His veins pounded his body, his blood running much too fast for his heart to cope.
Visions dipped before him. Ones of happier times. Ones with Pearl. Ones with Merry.
Merry.
Merry was there, Pippin sensed it. That strong grip around his shoulders again, a high-shriek of panic, but those strong arms remained, never leaving him, never letting go. Merry would try to help him. Merry always did. This time, Merry couldn't. This time Merry was to far away to help, despite being so very close. Pippin loved Merry. He was his very best friend, but he knew Merry would hate him after this. Merry was so scared. Pippin could vaguely hear his cousin's voice talking to him-telling him to hold on.
Pippin didn't want to hold on. He wanted to go. Wanted to be free. Merry wasn't free. Merry was still there, waiting, hoping, praying. Pippin knew he was being selfish. Pippin knew he should hold on, pull through, remain with Merry. But he didn't want to-not anymore. Not now Pearl had gone. First his mother, now Pearl. It was all just too much for him to take. To lose them both in not even the space of a year had torn Pippin apart.
Pippin couldn't feel the hay beneath his hands anymore. He wasn't even on the ground. He was being carried. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was what it felt like to die, when your soul rose from your body. Perhaps this was it. He couldn't make sense of anything at all, anymore. Nothing was clear. Nothing bound him to his world, the world of the living and the world of the dead. Where was he? Was he lost somewhere between?
Where was Merry? Pippin wanted Merry. He needed Merry so damn much. Merry would know what to do-he always knew what to do. He always helped Pippin out of trouble, but Pippin knew this trouble was beyond the help of his closest friend. Merry wasn't within reach. Pippin needed Merry's touch, needed a hand of life to bring him back, keep him back. Merry's hand wasn't there to take. Pippin felt blackness shroud him. Pippin's chest was so tight he knew these would be his very last ever breathes. Pippin felt his body go limp. His chest no longer hurt. His breathing wasn't strained. He faintly heard crying far off. Away, somewhere he felt he knew but could not place.
He no longer felt. No longer needed. He was free.
Merry gripped Pippin's hand so tightly. More tightly than ever. Pippin was only just hanging on. By only a thread it seemed, was Pippin's life balanced. Merry knew that thread was not of life, it was of friendship. Merry would hold on-longer than Pippin. Merry would hold on and never let go. Merry would not let go. Merry wanted his Pippin back. Merry needed his Pippin back. Merry loved his Pippin more than anyone did but he was losing him. Merry would not leave him. Pippin would never be alone. Pippin would always have his Merry.
And, late into the night, Merry remained holding on.
~ To be continued!!! Please R&R. Any comments are welcome. Bad or good.