Chapter 20. Two is Company
Soon after 1 o'clock the two hobbits were ready to start. Merry was settled and sleeping fitfully in his new quarters, plates of food situated around the room, door securely locked. Pippin had dutifully prepared the ponies for the travelers, not mentioning that the ponies had been "prepared" once before a few days previously before the plans had been changed; before Merry had changed the plans.
"Pippin," said Frodo as he mounted the sturdy Shire pony, "there is one more thing I must ask of you."
Pippin gave Frodo an answering look, eager to please.
"Pip, I need the key to the tunnel-gate. You know of what I speak."
A pallor instantly washed over Pippin's face.
"You don't mean to-"
"Indeed we do," answered Frodo brusquely. "If we go through the North gate, our departure will be known at once. The bridge and the east road will certainly be watched. That leaves only one path-though I know it is not the path you would advise. I know Merry had the key, and I need you to bring it to me now."
Pippin began to open his mouth in argument, but the determined look in Frodo's eyes told him that debate would be pointless. He reluctantly trudged back into the house in search of the wretched key. The door creaked to a close.
"Mr. Frodo!" exclaimed Sam the second Pippin was out of earshot. "You can't be thinkin' of going into the Old Forest! Folks tell dark tales about that foul place! We'll get ourselves lost, and ain't no mistake! People don't go in there, Mr. Frodo! Not people in their right mind, leastwise!"
"Oh yes they do!" countered Frodo. "The Brandybucks go in."
Sam squinted and gave Frodo a sidelong glance. Frodo had just proved his point.
Frodo smiled, guessing Sam's thoughts.
"Sam," Frodo chided. "I'm half Brandybuck and I am indeed in my right mind, as you say. I've been in once long ago with Merry. And if you have a better idea of sneaking off unnoticed, fess up now. But I doubt there is another path aside from one that requires us to sprout wings and fly to Bree in the dead of night."
Sam heaved a discouraged sigh.
"I've a mind for once to agree with the little panswinger. But I'll trust to yer judgement, Master Frodo, though me heart thinks ill o' it."
At that moment the aforementioned panswinger emerged from the house, befuddled, frustrated, and keyless. Pippin shrugged his shoulders in defeat, giving Frodo a guilty and dejected look.
"Pip," said Frodo, "Check your room on the floor. Merry always keeps the key on his belt--"
Frodo's words trailed off in memory of the belt and the sound it made as it cut through the air, the pain it caused when it sliced over his thighs. Pippin too suppressed a shudder, but dashed back through the door without a word. Minutes later he burst through the door holding aloft a mean-looking iron key, its black filigree specked with rust.
"That's it, Pip," said Frodo as he reached down from the pony to grab it.
Pippin gave Frodo a confounded look, as if a problem just entered his mind.
"Don't worry Pip," assured Frodo. "I'll not keep it. I know this rightly belongs to the Brandybucks. I shall leave it beside the tunnel gate once we are through. I don't suspect anyone will know to look for the tunnel, much less the key unless they are related to the Master of Brandy Hall-in which case they've a right to it."
Pippin nodded.
"And this is for you, dear Pip!"
Frodo pressed the key to Merry's makeshift prison into Pippin's small palm with a final admonition not to use it until "reinforcements" arrived. Pippin nodded again, this time with tears prickling behind his eyelids.
Frodo reached down and grasped Pippin on the shoulder.
"You'll be fine, Pippin. You're a good lad!"
Pippin looked up and smiled weakly. In his heart of hearts, he did not want his dear cousin to go. He had half a mind to jump up on Frodo's pony, throw his arms around Frodo's waist, and beg and plead to go along until Frodo would have no choice but to allow it. But for Merry. Pippin's posture sagged and the tears flowed down. Frodo ruffed Pippin's hair in a comforting gesture before grabbing hold of the reigns again.
"Fare thee well, Peregrin Took!" exclaimed Frodo as he prodded his pony. "Remember, we are depending on you!"
Pippin looked on in despair as the two hobbits rode away, their ponies moving at a steady trot past the gate and over several fields. He stood still as a statue, watching as Frodo turned to give Pippin a final cautionary glance before disappearing through a line of trees. He had never felt so very alone.
* * *
Sam and Frodo rode silently for about an hour, each couched down in his own thoughts. Frodo's thoughts were on his frightful burden and his unforgivable delay at Crickhollow. He wondered inwardly why Gandalf had not materialized at Bag End despite Frodo's decision to linger far past the point of prudence. Frodo tried to push the memories of the last week's horrid events out of his head, guiding his mind instead to focus upon the rhythmic stomping of his pony's hooves, the crackle of the leaves as they rode, the gentle afternoon sun hitting the back of his neck, and the autumn breeze, warm but tinged at the edges with a crisp coolness that heralded the coming winter.
Frodo's body, however, still gave him tangible reminders of Merry's betrayal -the pain shooting through his legs every time his pony jostled a certain way, the uncharacteristic stiffness of his limbs and the rosy ropeburns dancing around his still-sore wrists. At least they were on their way-free from one danger and into a new one. Frodo understood now that the biggest threat resided in his lower right-hand vest pocket. The Ring. If it could corrupt Merry, who would be next? Would he be strong enough to resist its call? Frodo dared not ponder it, and continued to let the pounding of hooves and crunching of leaves sooth his soul.
Sam's thoughts moved in a different direction. His anger at Meriadoc had not been quenched for the dastardly things he had done to Mr. Frodo, his own cousin. The vision of Merry raising his belt to his helpless master would forever be seared into his memory, twisting like a poisonous wound. How Sam had longed to throttle the other hobbit! This unfulfilled desire was rendered all the more frustrating because Sam was the stronger hobbit and had been fully capable of taking Merry to task-with his fist. Blast his master's forgiving heart!
And what of Pip? True, Sam had felt pity for the bruised and sobbing little pan swinger. But what proof did they have that Pippin would heed their warning-even for the sake of his own safety? Pippin had nodded in all the right places as Frodo spoke to him but-and this rankled Sam, Pippin had not taken the initiative to apologize to Frodo. Instead, Pip had only expressed his frustration that he'd failed. Failed whom? Merry? Even now, doubts were creeping into Sam's mind. Would Pip wait to open up the door until help arrived? When it came to his cousins, Sam trusted Frodo's good heart more than his good judgment.
Sam's mind came back to the present as a new and more immediate fear came into his field of vision. The Hedge-the dividing line between the Shire and the Old Forest, suddenly loomed ahead. The ponies halted.
"How are we going to get through this?" asked Sam.
"Follow me!" said Frodo, "and you shall see!"
He turned left along the hedge until they reached a cutting some distance from the hedge with walls of brick that rose steadily until it formed a tunnel that ran deep under the hedge and came out on the other side-into the Old Forest.
Sam silently gulped as their ponies entered the dark damp tunnel, full aware that what awaited them on the other side would be equally unsavory. On its far end, Sam noted a gate of thickset iron bars blocking their way. Frodo dismounted, his feet squishing down into the mud as he landed. Frodo stuck the angry-looking black key into the even angrier looking black gate and turned it with no small effort. The hinges screamed and complained as Frodo pushed the gates open.
"There," said Frodo. "You have left the Shire and are now outside and on the edge of the Old Forest! He added, "I wonder how poor Pip is faring right now."
Sam did not answer, but shuddered as the gate swung shut with an ominous clang.
* * *
Merry's sleeping face was a thing of beauty under the sunlight. At least, that is what Pippin thought as he stared at Merry from beside the bed. The rays of sunlight that slanted down through the high window seemed to stretch down from heaven, surrounding Merry like a sacred thing. Or did Merry himself emanate the brightness from within? Pippin was not sure. But this ethereal light revealed Merry's true magnificence. He lay there, eyes closed, face glowing, like a god, the littlest Valar, the most lovely being in Middle earth. Pippin thought to himself that he had never seen anything so potent or so beautiful. Merry. His Merry. Meriadoc the Magnificient.
Pippin, naturally, had scrambled to his Merry's side as soon as Frodo and Sam had vanished through the trees; all their warnings emulsified by Pippin's unswerving love for Merry. He'd pulled up a chair from the parlor, intending to keep a silent vigil over his slumbering cousin. The hard wood of the chair sent ripples of pain into his battered backside every time he moved, but it was of no consequence. Pippin saw the aches and pains as reminders of a crucial lesson. It was a lesson harshly taught and hard-learned, but one utterly worth every welt, cut and bruise that his teacher had delivered.
The lesson that Pip had learned from his beating was a very different one than the one dear Frodo thought he had learned. Indeed, Pippin's punishment had taught him a lesson, bright bold and clear, about obedience, about the casting away of doubts, and about giving himself over, body and soul, to Merry's command. Pip would not err again-he'd promised himself; he'd promised Merry. Frodo's intentions were sterling-of course, but it was Merry who really had the full grasp of the situation. Frodo did not comprehend-how could he? Frodo's lesson had been incomplete. Frodo did not know and trust Merry's wisdom the way Pippin did. Because Pippin had learned. Frodo's good intentions would not save the Shire, nor would they buy the hobbits a firm future. That was for Merry's wisdom, Merry's strength, Merry's cunning, and, yes, occasionally Merry's ruthlessness. Pippin only awaited Merry's return to consciousness for his own direction.
After an hour, Pippin left his post to prepare Merry a fine snack-scones, berries, and a fine morning tea. He'd take good care of Merry. He'd make Merry proud. With the kettle, cup, and plate in hands, Pippin returned to his bedside vigil. He did not have to wait long.
Pippin leaned down very close to Merry's chest as soon as he noticed a change in his cousin's breathing. Merry's slow soft breaths had quickened as he began to groan and stir. Finally, Merry's eyelids fluttered open. Merry was surfacing to wakefulness.
"Merry," called Pippin. "Merry, love. Your Pippin is here. Wake up."
Merry blinked open his eyes, letting the hazy figure leaning over him come into focus.
"Merry!" chirped Pippin. "Finally! You are awake. I've brought you a nice breakfast in bed, though it is hardly morning anymore."
Pippin began chattering quickly, nervously, and non-stop, as if the silence in between words was unbearable; as if he feared what Merry might say if Pippin gave him an opening to speak.
Merry's mind swam with confusion at first- undecided on whether to be grateful or annoyed at his cousin's smothering attentions. Just then, Pippin held out a steaming cup of-
Then the memories came flooding back. He'd been struck and subdued. His captives had turned the tables on them, freed, somehow, and forced him to drink his own elixir of slumber. They were going to Bree, Sam had said- wait! No they couldn't! But he'd been unable to stop them. But how long had he been under and where were they? Sam, Frodo, and Frodo's burden? His gift? And how had Sam gotten loose?
It occurred to Merry as his mind floated back to awareness that the source of all his answers and his blame was leaning over him with a cup of tea, a plate full of scones, sparkling emerald eyes, and the most guileless smile one could ever hope for. Pippin. Pippin? Pippin!
"Pippin!" yelled Merry so abruptly that Pippin jumped out of his skin, sending hot splatters of tea flying out of the cup over Pippin's unsuspecting hands. "Pippin, Where are Frodo and Sam?" Merry asked this question despite already knowing the answer.
"They've-g-g-gone, Merry," Pippin muttered in a barely audible tone.
Merry bolted upright and swung hard. His fist caught Pippin's jaw. Pippin reeled, sending his teacup flying out of his grasp to shatter into a fine spray of porcelain across the polished oak floorboards. His plate fell and cracked in half, scattering the scones across the floor to roll haphazardly under the bed, leaving a trail of moist crumbs in their wake.
Pippin brought up his hands defensively over his face before attempting to stand. Frodo's warning flashed in his mind, and for the moment, Pippin was dreadfully afraid.
Merry caught Pippin's wrist and violently tugged Pippin back down into his chair.
"Sit-down," ordered Merry, fire in his eyes. His grasp on Pippin's wrist was suddenly vice-like. Pippin began to shiver uncontrollably. Merry looked down searchingly at his cousin for several long seconds before he spoke.
"I assure you, dear Pip," said Merry in a clear, cold voice, "you will pay for your part in this latest turn of events."
Merry paused as he saw Pippin's eyes roll back. Pippin was leaning into a swoon.
A stinging slap snapped Pippin back to bleak awareness.
"No fainting," said Merry in a voice half purr, half growl. "Not now at least, my sweet. You can't because I need you. Even now, Pippin. Even now you may redeem yourself."
Merry released Pippin's wrist, allowing his cousin to rub his reddened check. Pip glanced up at Merry with lowered eyes brimming with shame and pleading for redemption.
"Now Pip, you must quickly tell me everything you know about Frodo and Sam's plans. I know already that they are bound for Bree. But when did they leave, how are they traveling, and which path did they take?"
"They.they--," Pip was too muddled to force out coherent thoughts.
"Speak!" roared Merry. "We have very little time!"
Pippin jolted, and just as if a lever had been pulled, he let the information pour out of him like a waterfall in spring.
Merry held up his palm when Pippin had given him the information that he needed.
"That is sufficient for now, Pip," he said. You will have the opportunity to tell me your mistakes, ALL of them, that led up to this disaster as we ride. For now, I need you to prepare two ponies while I gather a few other necessities. We needs be off to the tunnel gate and the Old Forest!"
Despite his terror of the place, Pippin's desire to make things right between he and Merry buried all of his fears and doubts. He would have followed Merry to the very gates of Mordor at that point if it would have meant that Merry would love him again. Pippin dashed out to the pony shed as fast as his aching body would carry him. The Old Forest was no longer a terrifying place-not when it seemed to hold the golden key to Merry's trust.
TBC
To the reviewers:
Endymion: Love your comments! Ah-I seems you caught the flowery language of my poetic beta! I think you will love here work-professional grade stuff!! Aratlithiel is finally posting her own stuff, and if you want high quality Frodo angst, I can't suggest it enough!
Budgielover-Nitpick away! Your comments really keep this story of high quality. C'mon-I teach college. I mark student papers all day and can take constructive crit-esp when it is as helpful and welcome as yours!!!
Tesekian: Thank you! I think you will really like the next 3 chappies!
Ariel-The problem with Pip is he is too in love with Merry, but too kind- hearted to really do his bidding to the letter.
Calla-More deep Pip angst coming your way (chapter 24 esp)
Alisaundre-You are right-by ignoring Sam, Merry was playing a mind game with him. I can't ait to post the next few chappies-they are dooozies!
Mbradford-Poor pippin is right! I just can't wait to show what happens to him in the next few chapters! And off to Bree-ummmm-We'll see!
Sue-one of you questions was answered here-the other will be answered soon!
QTPie-New chappie at your command!
Pointy eared archer-hmmm-so much for the plan!
Iorhael-the stupid ffnet would not let me review! I'll try again today! I just loved your last chapter of Nasty Hobbitsess! I'll catch up on betaing after the last of my grades are in today!!
Thank you for the reviews! I just love the next 2 chapters, and I hope you will too! I will get them up faster if I hear from some lurkers I haven't met yet! And my "regulars"-you Know I love you!
Big thanks to my beta-Aratlithiel! I've been told she's been working on a Frodo/Rosie story-so I think you all should bug here to post it!!!!! ;)
Soon after 1 o'clock the two hobbits were ready to start. Merry was settled and sleeping fitfully in his new quarters, plates of food situated around the room, door securely locked. Pippin had dutifully prepared the ponies for the travelers, not mentioning that the ponies had been "prepared" once before a few days previously before the plans had been changed; before Merry had changed the plans.
"Pippin," said Frodo as he mounted the sturdy Shire pony, "there is one more thing I must ask of you."
Pippin gave Frodo an answering look, eager to please.
"Pip, I need the key to the tunnel-gate. You know of what I speak."
A pallor instantly washed over Pippin's face.
"You don't mean to-"
"Indeed we do," answered Frodo brusquely. "If we go through the North gate, our departure will be known at once. The bridge and the east road will certainly be watched. That leaves only one path-though I know it is not the path you would advise. I know Merry had the key, and I need you to bring it to me now."
Pippin began to open his mouth in argument, but the determined look in Frodo's eyes told him that debate would be pointless. He reluctantly trudged back into the house in search of the wretched key. The door creaked to a close.
"Mr. Frodo!" exclaimed Sam the second Pippin was out of earshot. "You can't be thinkin' of going into the Old Forest! Folks tell dark tales about that foul place! We'll get ourselves lost, and ain't no mistake! People don't go in there, Mr. Frodo! Not people in their right mind, leastwise!"
"Oh yes they do!" countered Frodo. "The Brandybucks go in."
Sam squinted and gave Frodo a sidelong glance. Frodo had just proved his point.
Frodo smiled, guessing Sam's thoughts.
"Sam," Frodo chided. "I'm half Brandybuck and I am indeed in my right mind, as you say. I've been in once long ago with Merry. And if you have a better idea of sneaking off unnoticed, fess up now. But I doubt there is another path aside from one that requires us to sprout wings and fly to Bree in the dead of night."
Sam heaved a discouraged sigh.
"I've a mind for once to agree with the little panswinger. But I'll trust to yer judgement, Master Frodo, though me heart thinks ill o' it."
At that moment the aforementioned panswinger emerged from the house, befuddled, frustrated, and keyless. Pippin shrugged his shoulders in defeat, giving Frodo a guilty and dejected look.
"Pip," said Frodo, "Check your room on the floor. Merry always keeps the key on his belt--"
Frodo's words trailed off in memory of the belt and the sound it made as it cut through the air, the pain it caused when it sliced over his thighs. Pippin too suppressed a shudder, but dashed back through the door without a word. Minutes later he burst through the door holding aloft a mean-looking iron key, its black filigree specked with rust.
"That's it, Pip," said Frodo as he reached down from the pony to grab it.
Pippin gave Frodo a confounded look, as if a problem just entered his mind.
"Don't worry Pip," assured Frodo. "I'll not keep it. I know this rightly belongs to the Brandybucks. I shall leave it beside the tunnel gate once we are through. I don't suspect anyone will know to look for the tunnel, much less the key unless they are related to the Master of Brandy Hall-in which case they've a right to it."
Pippin nodded.
"And this is for you, dear Pip!"
Frodo pressed the key to Merry's makeshift prison into Pippin's small palm with a final admonition not to use it until "reinforcements" arrived. Pippin nodded again, this time with tears prickling behind his eyelids.
Frodo reached down and grasped Pippin on the shoulder.
"You'll be fine, Pippin. You're a good lad!"
Pippin looked up and smiled weakly. In his heart of hearts, he did not want his dear cousin to go. He had half a mind to jump up on Frodo's pony, throw his arms around Frodo's waist, and beg and plead to go along until Frodo would have no choice but to allow it. But for Merry. Pippin's posture sagged and the tears flowed down. Frodo ruffed Pippin's hair in a comforting gesture before grabbing hold of the reigns again.
"Fare thee well, Peregrin Took!" exclaimed Frodo as he prodded his pony. "Remember, we are depending on you!"
Pippin looked on in despair as the two hobbits rode away, their ponies moving at a steady trot past the gate and over several fields. He stood still as a statue, watching as Frodo turned to give Pippin a final cautionary glance before disappearing through a line of trees. He had never felt so very alone.
* * *
Sam and Frodo rode silently for about an hour, each couched down in his own thoughts. Frodo's thoughts were on his frightful burden and his unforgivable delay at Crickhollow. He wondered inwardly why Gandalf had not materialized at Bag End despite Frodo's decision to linger far past the point of prudence. Frodo tried to push the memories of the last week's horrid events out of his head, guiding his mind instead to focus upon the rhythmic stomping of his pony's hooves, the crackle of the leaves as they rode, the gentle afternoon sun hitting the back of his neck, and the autumn breeze, warm but tinged at the edges with a crisp coolness that heralded the coming winter.
Frodo's body, however, still gave him tangible reminders of Merry's betrayal -the pain shooting through his legs every time his pony jostled a certain way, the uncharacteristic stiffness of his limbs and the rosy ropeburns dancing around his still-sore wrists. At least they were on their way-free from one danger and into a new one. Frodo understood now that the biggest threat resided in his lower right-hand vest pocket. The Ring. If it could corrupt Merry, who would be next? Would he be strong enough to resist its call? Frodo dared not ponder it, and continued to let the pounding of hooves and crunching of leaves sooth his soul.
Sam's thoughts moved in a different direction. His anger at Meriadoc had not been quenched for the dastardly things he had done to Mr. Frodo, his own cousin. The vision of Merry raising his belt to his helpless master would forever be seared into his memory, twisting like a poisonous wound. How Sam had longed to throttle the other hobbit! This unfulfilled desire was rendered all the more frustrating because Sam was the stronger hobbit and had been fully capable of taking Merry to task-with his fist. Blast his master's forgiving heart!
And what of Pip? True, Sam had felt pity for the bruised and sobbing little pan swinger. But what proof did they have that Pippin would heed their warning-even for the sake of his own safety? Pippin had nodded in all the right places as Frodo spoke to him but-and this rankled Sam, Pippin had not taken the initiative to apologize to Frodo. Instead, Pip had only expressed his frustration that he'd failed. Failed whom? Merry? Even now, doubts were creeping into Sam's mind. Would Pip wait to open up the door until help arrived? When it came to his cousins, Sam trusted Frodo's good heart more than his good judgment.
Sam's mind came back to the present as a new and more immediate fear came into his field of vision. The Hedge-the dividing line between the Shire and the Old Forest, suddenly loomed ahead. The ponies halted.
"How are we going to get through this?" asked Sam.
"Follow me!" said Frodo, "and you shall see!"
He turned left along the hedge until they reached a cutting some distance from the hedge with walls of brick that rose steadily until it formed a tunnel that ran deep under the hedge and came out on the other side-into the Old Forest.
Sam silently gulped as their ponies entered the dark damp tunnel, full aware that what awaited them on the other side would be equally unsavory. On its far end, Sam noted a gate of thickset iron bars blocking their way. Frodo dismounted, his feet squishing down into the mud as he landed. Frodo stuck the angry-looking black key into the even angrier looking black gate and turned it with no small effort. The hinges screamed and complained as Frodo pushed the gates open.
"There," said Frodo. "You have left the Shire and are now outside and on the edge of the Old Forest! He added, "I wonder how poor Pip is faring right now."
Sam did not answer, but shuddered as the gate swung shut with an ominous clang.
* * *
Merry's sleeping face was a thing of beauty under the sunlight. At least, that is what Pippin thought as he stared at Merry from beside the bed. The rays of sunlight that slanted down through the high window seemed to stretch down from heaven, surrounding Merry like a sacred thing. Or did Merry himself emanate the brightness from within? Pippin was not sure. But this ethereal light revealed Merry's true magnificence. He lay there, eyes closed, face glowing, like a god, the littlest Valar, the most lovely being in Middle earth. Pippin thought to himself that he had never seen anything so potent or so beautiful. Merry. His Merry. Meriadoc the Magnificient.
Pippin, naturally, had scrambled to his Merry's side as soon as Frodo and Sam had vanished through the trees; all their warnings emulsified by Pippin's unswerving love for Merry. He'd pulled up a chair from the parlor, intending to keep a silent vigil over his slumbering cousin. The hard wood of the chair sent ripples of pain into his battered backside every time he moved, but it was of no consequence. Pippin saw the aches and pains as reminders of a crucial lesson. It was a lesson harshly taught and hard-learned, but one utterly worth every welt, cut and bruise that his teacher had delivered.
The lesson that Pip had learned from his beating was a very different one than the one dear Frodo thought he had learned. Indeed, Pippin's punishment had taught him a lesson, bright bold and clear, about obedience, about the casting away of doubts, and about giving himself over, body and soul, to Merry's command. Pip would not err again-he'd promised himself; he'd promised Merry. Frodo's intentions were sterling-of course, but it was Merry who really had the full grasp of the situation. Frodo did not comprehend-how could he? Frodo's lesson had been incomplete. Frodo did not know and trust Merry's wisdom the way Pippin did. Because Pippin had learned. Frodo's good intentions would not save the Shire, nor would they buy the hobbits a firm future. That was for Merry's wisdom, Merry's strength, Merry's cunning, and, yes, occasionally Merry's ruthlessness. Pippin only awaited Merry's return to consciousness for his own direction.
After an hour, Pippin left his post to prepare Merry a fine snack-scones, berries, and a fine morning tea. He'd take good care of Merry. He'd make Merry proud. With the kettle, cup, and plate in hands, Pippin returned to his bedside vigil. He did not have to wait long.
Pippin leaned down very close to Merry's chest as soon as he noticed a change in his cousin's breathing. Merry's slow soft breaths had quickened as he began to groan and stir. Finally, Merry's eyelids fluttered open. Merry was surfacing to wakefulness.
"Merry," called Pippin. "Merry, love. Your Pippin is here. Wake up."
Merry blinked open his eyes, letting the hazy figure leaning over him come into focus.
"Merry!" chirped Pippin. "Finally! You are awake. I've brought you a nice breakfast in bed, though it is hardly morning anymore."
Pippin began chattering quickly, nervously, and non-stop, as if the silence in between words was unbearable; as if he feared what Merry might say if Pippin gave him an opening to speak.
Merry's mind swam with confusion at first- undecided on whether to be grateful or annoyed at his cousin's smothering attentions. Just then, Pippin held out a steaming cup of-
Then the memories came flooding back. He'd been struck and subdued. His captives had turned the tables on them, freed, somehow, and forced him to drink his own elixir of slumber. They were going to Bree, Sam had said- wait! No they couldn't! But he'd been unable to stop them. But how long had he been under and where were they? Sam, Frodo, and Frodo's burden? His gift? And how had Sam gotten loose?
It occurred to Merry as his mind floated back to awareness that the source of all his answers and his blame was leaning over him with a cup of tea, a plate full of scones, sparkling emerald eyes, and the most guileless smile one could ever hope for. Pippin. Pippin? Pippin!
"Pippin!" yelled Merry so abruptly that Pippin jumped out of his skin, sending hot splatters of tea flying out of the cup over Pippin's unsuspecting hands. "Pippin, Where are Frodo and Sam?" Merry asked this question despite already knowing the answer.
"They've-g-g-gone, Merry," Pippin muttered in a barely audible tone.
Merry bolted upright and swung hard. His fist caught Pippin's jaw. Pippin reeled, sending his teacup flying out of his grasp to shatter into a fine spray of porcelain across the polished oak floorboards. His plate fell and cracked in half, scattering the scones across the floor to roll haphazardly under the bed, leaving a trail of moist crumbs in their wake.
Pippin brought up his hands defensively over his face before attempting to stand. Frodo's warning flashed in his mind, and for the moment, Pippin was dreadfully afraid.
Merry caught Pippin's wrist and violently tugged Pippin back down into his chair.
"Sit-down," ordered Merry, fire in his eyes. His grasp on Pippin's wrist was suddenly vice-like. Pippin began to shiver uncontrollably. Merry looked down searchingly at his cousin for several long seconds before he spoke.
"I assure you, dear Pip," said Merry in a clear, cold voice, "you will pay for your part in this latest turn of events."
Merry paused as he saw Pippin's eyes roll back. Pippin was leaning into a swoon.
A stinging slap snapped Pippin back to bleak awareness.
"No fainting," said Merry in a voice half purr, half growl. "Not now at least, my sweet. You can't because I need you. Even now, Pippin. Even now you may redeem yourself."
Merry released Pippin's wrist, allowing his cousin to rub his reddened check. Pip glanced up at Merry with lowered eyes brimming with shame and pleading for redemption.
"Now Pip, you must quickly tell me everything you know about Frodo and Sam's plans. I know already that they are bound for Bree. But when did they leave, how are they traveling, and which path did they take?"
"They.they--," Pip was too muddled to force out coherent thoughts.
"Speak!" roared Merry. "We have very little time!"
Pippin jolted, and just as if a lever had been pulled, he let the information pour out of him like a waterfall in spring.
Merry held up his palm when Pippin had given him the information that he needed.
"That is sufficient for now, Pip," he said. You will have the opportunity to tell me your mistakes, ALL of them, that led up to this disaster as we ride. For now, I need you to prepare two ponies while I gather a few other necessities. We needs be off to the tunnel gate and the Old Forest!"
Despite his terror of the place, Pippin's desire to make things right between he and Merry buried all of his fears and doubts. He would have followed Merry to the very gates of Mordor at that point if it would have meant that Merry would love him again. Pippin dashed out to the pony shed as fast as his aching body would carry him. The Old Forest was no longer a terrifying place-not when it seemed to hold the golden key to Merry's trust.
TBC
To the reviewers:
Endymion: Love your comments! Ah-I seems you caught the flowery language of my poetic beta! I think you will love here work-professional grade stuff!! Aratlithiel is finally posting her own stuff, and if you want high quality Frodo angst, I can't suggest it enough!
Budgielover-Nitpick away! Your comments really keep this story of high quality. C'mon-I teach college. I mark student papers all day and can take constructive crit-esp when it is as helpful and welcome as yours!!!
Tesekian: Thank you! I think you will really like the next 3 chappies!
Ariel-The problem with Pip is he is too in love with Merry, but too kind- hearted to really do his bidding to the letter.
Calla-More deep Pip angst coming your way (chapter 24 esp)
Alisaundre-You are right-by ignoring Sam, Merry was playing a mind game with him. I can't ait to post the next few chappies-they are dooozies!
Mbradford-Poor pippin is right! I just can't wait to show what happens to him in the next few chapters! And off to Bree-ummmm-We'll see!
Sue-one of you questions was answered here-the other will be answered soon!
QTPie-New chappie at your command!
Pointy eared archer-hmmm-so much for the plan!
Iorhael-the stupid ffnet would not let me review! I'll try again today! I just loved your last chapter of Nasty Hobbitsess! I'll catch up on betaing after the last of my grades are in today!!
Thank you for the reviews! I just love the next 2 chapters, and I hope you will too! I will get them up faster if I hear from some lurkers I haven't met yet! And my "regulars"-you Know I love you!
Big thanks to my beta-Aratlithiel! I've been told she's been working on a Frodo/Rosie story-so I think you all should bug here to post it!!!!! ;)