Moria's Revenge
Chapter 41 – Dejected

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos
Beta & Additional Material: Marigold

Wiping his sleeve across his face to catch the tears before they fell, Merry slid down the bed and left Pippin finally sleeping restlessly. It had taken a long time to soothe his cousin's fears, but poor, hurt Pip had succumbed to a fretful sleep still mumbling that Merry could not desert him, not when he needed him so. For Merry no sleep or peace came. He resolved to find Aragorn. He had not argued when the Ranger had declared that he must continue with the Quest if Frodo could not and that, he, Meriadoc, should become the Ring-bearer. Aragorn had not given him the chance.

Of course Merry feared the task, but he would not wish to shirk it, but to leave Pippin, the precious cousin that he loved so dearly, especially when he still felt responsible for his injuries! If only he had taken better care of Pippin when he should have, none of this would have occurred – Frodo would not even have been injured. Everything was his fault and that fact punished him day and night. Now even Pippin was punishing him for it – as well he might.

Merry hoped that Aragorn would not be too far away, he felt very nervous about traversing the steep flet steps once more. He had not done so since his near fatal fall and the prospect of climbing down again was daunting. "Courage Meriadoc!" He bit his lip and muttered under his breath. "Do not fear such a small thing – with all that lies ahead of you." Treading on one step at a time and staying in the centre, as he could not reach the handrail, he carefully and laboriously made his way to the ground.

Aragorn saw Merry, pale-faced and shaky, just as he neared the bottom of the flight and went to meet him. "Merry – what are you doing down here?" The ranger reached out his hand and helped the nervous hobbit down the last few steps. "Although I am glad that you have managed to climb down on your own so soon. I was worried that you might have been unnerved by your fall."

"No Aragorn," Merry gulped a little at the slight untruth. "I was just being careful, I wasn't afraid – really."

"Merry, I would not blame you for being anxious after such a fall as you took." Aragorn bent and held Merry by the shoulders, looking questioningly into the sad, blue eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I just wanted to talk to you for a moment." Merry began. "That's why I came down."

"Well come and sit by me for a while and tell me what's bothering you." Aragorn led the way to a low bench that was a little awkward for him, but just right for the hobbit. "Is it about the Quest?"

Merry nodded, "Aragorn, I can't go – I can't leave Pippin, you mustn't ask me to do that."

"Merry, Merry…" The Ranger had been expecting such a plea, partly from the look on Merry's face, but mostly because he knew well by now the bond between the two. "I would not ask this – no demand this – of you, if there were any choice, you must realise that."

"But why? Why must it be me? Why not Sam? With… with perhaps another hobbit, maybe from Bree… or…" Merry broke off as he realised he was clutching at straws, there was no real solution. "It's just that Frodo resents me already, he doesn't want to give the Ring to me and Pippin is heartbroken that I might have to leave him, just when he needs me so."

"I know it's difficult Merry," Aragorn grimaced with trepidation at what he was going to have to say, "but it is your duty, not only as cousin and kin to both Frodo and Bilbo, but as the future Master of Buckland." The Ranger could see he had hit a nerve. "Merry you were born a leader – one day you will inherit your father's title and position – such things carry a responsibility with them." The man paused to let this sink in and then added in a kinder tone, "I had already planned to send Sam with you – did you not know?"

"No," Merry looked a little more hopeful at this, "but could he not take the Ring? Why must it be me?"

"Even if Sam were to take the Ring," Aragorn sighed, now becoming a little impatient, "you would still have to go with him."

"Why me?" Merry persisted. "He will still have all of you to protect and guard him. I know we lost Gandalf, but you and Boromir alone are enough to look after Sam, to say nothing of Legolas and Gimli! What difference would I make?"

"You are of his kind, Merry." Aragorn took Merry's small hand in his and turned it over palm upwards, gently tracing his large fingers across the little ones he held. "You are of his hand and his heart, Merry. The task will be daunting enough as it is. Don't you think you owe it to all hobbits and to the Shire to take the Ring?"

"Frodo offered willingly because he had no other course," Merry looked down at their hands, too embarrassed to meet Aragorn's gaze, guilty at his own reticence to do what he was bid. "But Gandalf and Elrond did not force him into it. You are hardly even giving me a choice."

"I know Merry, and I wish it were otherwise." Aragorn folded Merry's hand over and clasped it shut. "Don't make this so difficult." The Ranger's voice rose as he spoke, "It is not yet even decided, but Frodo had the wit to recognise what had to be done and you should face your destiny with courage, as he did."

Merry shook his head and pulled his hand away from Aragorn. Without speaking again, but with his bottom lip trembling, he stood and backed away from the Ranger, then turned and ran.

"Merry come back!" Aragorn ran a few paces after him, but at that moment Silael called from the base of the flet stairway.

"Master Estel! Could you spare me a moment?" The elf healer hurried over, "I need to talk to you about Frodo's progress. If he is to have any chance of continuing with the Quest he needs some firm counselling and I believe you are the right one to speak with him."

Aragorn glanced in the direction Merry had run, the hobbit had vanished from his sight. Choices – should he go after Merry or would it be better to speak with Frodo as soon as possible? The Quest was in balance and it would indeed be better all round if Frodo could continue. Merry would have to wait. Aragon turned to Silael. "Very well, I will come now."

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Feeling dejected and defeated, Merry went in search of Sam, to see if the steady hobbit could reassure him. At least he would not be alone on the Quest when they continued without Frodo and Pippin, Merry reasoned. Just thinking once more about leaving his cousins made Merry feel shaky and… well, out of control. His emotions were ricocheting between mindless rage at those who would separate them, and just wanting to curl up and cry.

'Steady there, Merry.' he reprimanded himself. 'This is no way for the son of the Master of Buckland to be acting.' He seated himself on a small bench set into an alcove by the kitchens. Sam often stopped there at this time of day, looking for something special for Frodo's second breakfast, a meal still often missed by elves. Merry sighed, resting his head in his hands, and breathing deeply, willing the stinging behind his eyes away.

"Mr Merry?" Sam's soft voice startled Merry. He wiped his eyes quickly, hoping his face and voice would not betray him.

"Hello Sam. It's good that you've come, I wanted to talk to you about something." Merry inwardly congratulated himself on being able to keep his voice even. "Come and sit with me."

"Well, I can't say I'd not like to sit and talk for a good long while, Mr Merry, but I just came down here to find some of those little white cakes for Mr Frodo…" Sam trailed off seeing the despairing look that crossed Merry's face at his words. "…but I'm sure he'll be fine for a moment." Settling himself next to Merry, he asked, "What is it that's troubling you?"

"Thank you Sam, I don't mean to keep you long, it's just, well, it has to do with the Quest, and what should happen if… if Frodo does not recover in time to continue to Mordor. I know that for the good of, well, everyone, I should go, and leave Pip behind. But I made a promise to him…" Merry's voice hitched and he fell silent.

"There, now, Mr Merry." Sam leaned over and put a bracing arm around Merry's shoulders. "You're not giving Mr Frodo enough credit. I know he's upset about this whole business, and it seems as if there's no perfect solution to this mess, but we'll make sure that Mr Pippin knows about you, and how much you love him." Merry looked up sharply at Sam's words.

"But, Sam, didn't Strider tell you? You're to come with me!" For a moment Merry panicked - right now the only way he could see being able to carry on was if steady Sam was at his side.

Sam jolted, looking at Merry with wide eyes. "What? No, that can't be right - I'm to stay here and look after Mr Frodo! I won't be leaving him!"

"Sam!" Merry grabbed onto Sam's braces desperately. "Please, I can't do this on my own, I need you – Frodo has the best care in Middle-earth here, but I can't possibly carry It without you beside me; you know Frodo would never have come this far without you!"

"No!" Sam said vehemently, and as he stood up, shoved Merry back down onto the bench. "Mr Strider didn't say nothing about leavin' to me! And even if he did, I'm not going to. You'll have him, and the others, Mr Merry, and if they aren't enough of an escort for you…well…well… that still doesn't make it right for you to try and make me come with you without my say-so!" Shaking with rage, Samwise turned on his heel and pushed through the door to the kitchen, leaving it swinging energetically in his wake. Merry could only sit in shock.

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"Merry?"

Merry was so startled at the sudden voice behind him that he jumped to his feet with an undignified squeak and whirled around. Boromir was standing in the archway opposite the one Sam had just stormed through. "Oh, Boromir…"

"Is something the matter Merry? I thought I heard you and Sam having a disagreement. Is there any problem you'd like to talk about?"

Merry sank back down into his seat, debating with himself as to whether or not he should confide in Boromir. After all, how could he expect a man to understand a falling out amongst hobbits? "No Boromir, I'm fine, really." Putting on his bravest smile, Merry looked back up at Boromir.

"You're not being truthful with me, Merry." Boromir sat down next to him. "Now tell me what happened. We cannot have unresolved strife in our Fellowship."

Realising Boromir was right; Merry sighed and turned to face the man. If he was going to speak what was in his heart, he would do so with his head up, not bowed in shame. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you what is planned if Frodo does not heal by the time we are to leave. I was feeling… well… not so frightened about the Quest, but about leaving poor Pippin all alone!"

"You do not have to tell me how much the prospect of leaving Pippin scares you Merry." Boromir placed a comforting hand on Merry's shoulder. "I can see the pain in your eyes whenever the subject is mentioned."

Merry nodded, and continued. "I thought to speak with Sam about it – to plan ahead, and well… for some reassurance. I was truly very pleased to find that he will come with me, but no one had told him that he would be expected to! He became very angry, and said that he would never leave Frodo, and now both Frodo and Sam are cross with me, and Pippin's disappointed in me, and I- I- don't have anyone else, that is, any other hobbit to talk to about it!" he said the last in a breathless rush.

Boromir coughed a bit. "I am no hobbit, but I would have you let me offer counsel, and maybe some comfort, Merry. For I think perhaps right now you don't really need a fellow hobbit, but a friend." Merry nodded silently, waiting for Boromir to say his piece. "Perhaps Aragorn did not tell you, but there is another way, one that I have championed – and it would not require you to leave Pippin behind."

"That does sound nice, Boromir, but even if I'm cross with Strider at the moment, I know he would think through all the alternatives and pick the best one for…"

"But that is the problem," interrupted Boromir. "He did not consider it – barely had I proposed that we travel instead to Minas Tirith than he rejected it."

"Minas Tirith? How would that help Pippin?"

"We have had many casualties of war over the last decades – we are the ones, the people of Gondor, holding back the Darkness, not the elves! Our healers have many cures for ailments of the mind such as Pippin has suffered – after all, the elves lead a cloistered existence here, how can they know the pain Pippin has experienced?" A vague unease stirred in the pit of Merry's stomach. What Boromir was saying sounded reasonable, but something kept niggling at a corner of his mind, something that told him to be on his guard.

"And- and what would happen to the Quest?" Merry asked, slightly shifting his weight on the bench so as to be poised for flight. Why was he feeling this way? Boromir had been nothing but friendly towards Merry and protective towards Pippin – he would never suggest or do something that would harm either one of them!

Boromir leaned forward, a strange glint in his eye. "We need not destroy It – Elrond and the elves have too little faith in the strength of we mortals. At first I thought Frodo too weak to carry his burden, but now I know that is folly. Hobbits are made of stern stuff, do you think there is anything Frodo could not master?"

Merry was a bit disconcerted at the abrupt volte of the conversation. "Well, no – he's incredibly clever, and I've never known him to fail at any task he really worked at…"

"Never?"

Merry thought. "No, never – I've never thought of it before, but I think he's the only person I know who has never ultimately 'failed' at something. At least on subsequent tries." he added.

"Then why should this be different? Frodo could wield the Ring if he chose and my father, the Steward, will know just where and how to use it to greatest effectiveness. Let us show the elves that the strength of mortals is not something to be lightly discounted!"

Merry's mind was reeling. It was contrary to all that Gandalf and Strider had told them, yet, Gandalf was immortal, but even he had not survived the Balrog, Merry thought ruefully. And Strider had grown up among elves, and surely harboured sympathies to their way of thinking. Also Merry had to admit that it felt good to hear Boromir speaking of "we mortals". To know that a man that he looked up to held him in as high regard as he might a fellow-in-arms, made Merry swell with pride.

Boromir leaned in closer and clasped Merry's shoulder. "Just think, Frodo would be counted as a great warrior, and I would see that all four of you were outfitted with armour and raiment as befitting of your station." Merry looked up sharply.

"Frodo as a warrior? Boromir, now that is something I think he would fail at."

"You mean you think he would not like it. But sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good, Merry, and…" but Merry barely heard him, suddenly an image of Frodo, standing tall (well, as tall as possible, anyway) and fierce in armour had leapt into his mind. But that image was not his Cousin Frodo, who laughed and loved to live. It was a cold, distant, terrible figure. Merry jumped to his feet. "…Merry, what's wrong?"

Stumbling backwards, away from the surprised man and towards the door, Merry answered shakily, "I-I'm sorry Boromir, it's just- you've given me quite a lot to think about, and – and – I really need to see to Pip!" With that, Merry whirled and ran out the door, wondering just when the Boromir who was his friend and mentor had turned into the man he had just left behind.

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Merry slowed his run to a walk. It was the second time in one day he had felt the need to run away from another member of the Fellowship and the thought made him sink further into the murky depths of despondency that were threatening to overwhelm him.

For a moment he considered going back up  to be with Pippin and the others, but suddenly the prospect was not an appealing one, it merely made him feel more sad and he did not think he could cope with talking to any of them without giving way to tears at the moment. Perhaps later, when he had gathered his thoughts and resolve together.

Gimli was just ahead of him, pulling Icicle along on a lead. The warg was always reluctant to leave the hobbits although she tolerated the dwarf, as he was the one who generally fed her.

"Gimli!" Merry was pleased to see someone with whom he could have an easy conversation and not have to worry about difficult choices for a little while. "Where are you going?"

"Well, as always, I'm exercising milady warg, although it's a thankless enough task" Gimli turned impatiently round, partly to look at Merry and partly to tug at Icicle who had sat down as soon as she heard the hobbit's voice. "No one will thank me and she doesn't want to come either."

"Is she always like this?" Merry caught up and buried his hands in Icicle's coat, snuggling his fingers into the warm fur on her front. "Why doesn't she like a walk?"

"Because she only wants to stay with young Pippin," Gimli explained, "But it's really time they were both getting used to be apart."

"Well sometimes certain people weren't meant to be apart – ever," Merry put his arms around Icicle's neck as she placed a large paw on his knee. "That's true of wargs too, maybe Pip and her are meant to be together."

"That's not the natural way of things." Gimli gave up tugging at the lead as Icicle was obviously not going to move away from Merry, "We have to learn to cope on our own at need."

"But where's the need?" Merry asked, "Pip has been through so much it's not fair to expect him to be without Icy now. Why should he?"

"Because he has to stand on his own feet eventually," Gimli joined Merry now in petting the great white animal, "if he's ever going to get better."

"It's too much Gimli!" Merry found himself filling with tears again. He had hoped this would be a respite from his troubles, but as problems will, they just seemed to follow him about. "Pip has suffered too much; I'm not sure he can recover, so why do we have to separate him from those who love him best? What does that prove and how does it help him?"

"Merry," Gimli was surprised at the outburst, he had thought the hobbit was just passing the time of day, "Pippin can get better I'm sure, but not if we keep mollycoddling him so. He has to face this trauma sooner or later. The dwarves have a saying for it, 'to delve deep, you must dig alone.' Pippin won't find his answers unless he finds them for himself."

"And what would you know about it!" Merry could feel his anger rising. "It's hard being a hobbit in a world of men and elves. You must see that Gimli, but at least the dwarves are used to these strange beings. Poor Pip had never met an elf before we left the Shire, let alone an orc! He led a sheltered and safe life, he has no idea how to cope with any of this. Why should he be alone? It's so unjust! It's… it's beyond reason!"

"Steady young fellow," Gimli put his hand on Merry's shoulder to calm him. "I daresay I'll take the warg back to him once she's had her dinner and exercise. No one's deserting him completely, I just meant it were time he was weaned if you see what I mean. The lass did a good job, but she's not his mother and he has to be done with that side of her now."

"Oh yes, I-I know," Merry felt his cheeks flare red. What exactly had he been arguing with the well-meaning dwarf about? Pippin was all but weaned from Icicle now and it was right and proper that he should be. He suddenly realised that he was really arguing for himself to stay at Pippin's side, not for Icicle to always remain there. But perhaps Gimli was right, perhaps Pip did need to stand alone and be brave. The thought suddenly struck Merry with a dull impact, was it he, Pip's own cousin, who was so blind, he was holding Pippin's recovery back?

"I'm s-sorry Gimli, I didn't mean…" Merry stood up as he spoke and began backing away, "I j-just seem to keep getting everything wrong…"

Before the bemused dwarf could utter another word, Merry turned and fled. Icicle howled at his departing back and Gimli put his hand on her upraised head. "All right Milady, quiet now, you'll upset the other little one too if he hears you." Gimli soothed her head as she began a high-pitched keening sound. "Hush Icicle, he'll come round I dare say in his own time. Perhaps I spoke out of turn, but I'll just make it worse if I follow. One of the others, no doubt, will put him straight."

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Merry ran blindly for a short while then flopped down beside a little brooklet that chattered happily through the woodland. He felt as if the whole world was breaking in two and he was stretched across the middle of it, torn between duty and responsibility and Pippin's need. The love he had for Pippin made it almost impossible to turn his back on his cousin and yet that was what he was being asked to do. Merry looked at the babbling water and suddenly felt unreasonably cross with it. The water had not a care in world and he had so many – and poor Pip had even more – it was so unfair. The hobbit picked up a pebble and threw it in the busy water but, in spite of a quick little splurt, it did not even pause.

"Why so sad young perian?" The Silvan voice was light and silvery and cut through Merry's despairing mood like a hot knife through butter. He lifted up his tear-stained face to see Legolas smiling down at him. "It is not like you to be so downcast Merry. It belies your name if nothing else."

"Why would you even ask me," Merry looked away again and found another little stone to cast into the water. He let it go with some force, as if he could throw his troubles away with it. "You cannot be unaware of what they want from me, and how can I leave Pip when he won't even remember me if I ever get back?"

"Oh Merry, that is a long path ahead – for all of us. But Pippin must make his choice for himself – just as we all must make our choices."

"What does that mean?" Merry continued with his distracted stone throwing, not even turning to look up at Legolas as he came to sit beside him. "I don't understand. Pip needs me – he's always needed me. That hasn't changed just because of what happened to him."

"Merry, Merry?" Legolas caught the hobbit by the chin and turned his face to look into his eyes. "If you truly hold Pippin to your heart then you must trust him also. You must believe that he is capable of knowing what is best for him and if he seems at the moment not to understand or be making the wrong choices – then perhaps what you think is right for him, is not." Legolas paused to let that idea sink in, then added as a softer thought, "Or it could be that he just has not reached the right decision yet – but whatever it is – he must eventually find it on his own."

"But surely that's what kith and kin are for – to help you through troubles." Merry turned his face away again, uncomfortable with Legolas's intense gaze, "Pip has suffered so much and I wasn't there to help and now that I am, everyone seems to want to send me away from him."

"It is not a device to separate you two, Merry," Legolas persisted, "It is merely the way fate has twisted. It is difficult, but true, what cannot be cured must be endured and, Merry," Legolas caught the hobbit's arm as he was about to cast another stone, "please believe me, Pippin will understand eventually, truly he will."

Merry pulled his arm away and threw the stone hard at the water. The pebble bounced off a rock in the stream and fell with a plop into a little pool that had collected behind a large stepping-stone. "I don't understand and neither does he, and nor do you."

"Merry you understand perfectly," Legolas said quietly, "you just don't like what you understand. Those stones you are taking from the ground and casting into the water, they did not choose to be in the stream, they wished to spend their long existence on the ground, only wearing away in the water when the rain fell or a chance foot touched against them. But you have altered their fate and thrown them into the whirling stream, where they will grind into dust before their time. You see, fate is a strange phenomenon and it is difficult to predict or alter it. We did not expect to lose Mithrandir in Moria, but it happened. We did not want Pippin to be caught by the orcs but that too was fate. We are all caught in it, just as those stones are now caught in the stream – it is part of living."

Merry turned to look at Legolas – it was a long speech for the elf to deliver to him and it all made sense, but it did not make it any easier. Merry needed sympathy rather than truth. He felt there was a veiled message that Legolas was trying to tell him, but he could not quite make it out. "So you're saying I just have to put up with whatever life deals me? Is that it?"

"I'm afraid so, Merry," Legolas nodded, but smiled encouragingly at the same time. "But do not fear, The Valar will guide and protect both you and Pippin."

"Oh foetid foot-rot to The Valar!" Merry seldom swore but he was in poor sorts. "They've done little enough so far to protect any of us!" He jumped to his feet and threw several large rocks at the stream with vigour. "Especially Pip!"

Merry turned back to Legolas, the last rock falling from his now limp fingers, his anger spent and shame creeping over his face at the outburst. "It-It's not the fault of the Valar, I know that. I'm sorry I said that Legolas – it was my fault! I didn't watch Pippin closely enough, if I had none of this would have happened. I'm sorry, sorry…"

"Merry, do not blame yourself any more…" Legolas rose up and tried to catch the hobbit's hand.

But Merry pulled away, withdrawing into himself once more as he realised that even the wise elf could not change things. It was his fault and his alone, Legolas had made him see that, so he must bear alone the consequences. "I'll g-go to see Frodo again and try to explain. I-I've been selfish, and stupid… sorry Legolas…" With that, Merry turned away and headed briskly back towards the stairway leading to the healing chamber.

Legolas shook his head and shrugged, not certain what effect he had had but feeling it had not been quite what Merry had been expecting and worried now that he may have done more harm than good. He had wanted to tell Merry more, but he knew there were certain things the young one had to find out for himself in the fullness of time.

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Merry sagged against the trunk of the mallorn that housed the healer's flet. Looking up the long stairs, Merry's legs felt weak – climbing down had been an anxious trial and now he needed to climb up again.

He shook himself. He was going to have to be stricter with from now on – if he did become the Ring-bearer, he would have to get used to hardships and overcome fears – and perhaps if he was in top physical form, he would somehow return home to Pippin.

As Merry started climbing, he thought about what would happen if he did make it back from Mordor - how would Pippin react? If the others had been teaching and caring for him, would they tell Pippin of Merry, and assure him that he had a cousin who loved him more than life itself? How horrible would it be to return to a fully mature Pippin but one who did not recognize him other than an abstract name? Or, if Frodo became horribly jealous, would he tell Pippin how Merry had taken the Ring from him?

'STOP!' Merry finally shouted at the voices arguing back and forth in his head. It was too much to think about now – and Frodo would never do something like that, would he? Anyway, it would most assuredly not do to have such possibilities in mind when he went to make peace with his elder cousin.

When he finally reached the flet which housed Frodo and Pippin, he stopped to catch his breath and calm himself. He tried to think through exactly what he was going to say as he normally did before a confrontation, but nothing came to mind. But this was ridiculous! He wasn't going to a confrontation with Lotho over some pipeweed land dispute, he was going to have a heart-to-heart with his much loved cousin! Standing up and squaring his shoulders, Merry knocked on the door.

"Come in," a faint voice called. At least he knew Frodo was awake – if not, Sam would have come running to open the door so that his master's sleep was not disturbed. He gently pushed open the door and peeped in. Surprisingly, Frodo was alone – Sam was not in the room. Merry hoped that the revelation that he might be taking Sam along with him had not caused discord between Frodo and his faithful servant.

Frodo eyed him mistrustfully. "What do you want, Merry?" he said shortly. So Frodo was still angry. Merry looked down at his toes.

"I want to talk to you, Cousin. Please." For a moment Frodo looked as though he might refuse Merry an audience, but then he nodded to the chair beside the bed.

"Very well. Say your piece."

"Frodo, I don't really have a 'piece' to say." Merry began once he was seated, "I simply want to talk some things over with a cousin that I love."

"You have an odd way of showing that love, Merry. I suppose it must seem best for me to give up the Ring and Quest I was charged with, but do you not think that I'm capable of making my own decisions about what's best for me?"

"But that's got nothing to do with it, Frodo!" Merry exclaimed. "I don't want to take It from you, and I don't want to be the Ring-bearer. You should be angry with Strider, not with me, Frodo - he's the one who has decided this! We need to work out how together we can convince him that this is not the right course of action!"

"And just what do you think we can do, Merry?" Frodo sounded angry. "We couldn't even convince our own kinsman of the right course of action, so what makes you think it's possible to convince Aragorn?"

Merry sat in stunned silence, letting the words filter slowly through. Frodo was right, he had failed to show Pippin that it would be wrong to have his memories taken. It was as if he, Meriadoc, had consigned their own beloved, innocent little cousin to an early death. For Pip to lose all his memories and start again would be the equivalent of suicide – he might as well have just handed Pippin the knife and told him to go ahead.

Before he could recover, the door swung open and an elf Merry did not recognize stepped in.

"I heard raised voices," he started, and then took in Frodo's flushed face and heavy breathing. At once he turned to Merry and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, perian, but you are disturbing the patient and I cannot let you stay."

"But I…"

"No protests – if Frodo is going to get well, he must have rest, which you obviously aren't giving him."

Merry allowed himself to be steered out of the room, giving one last glance over his shoulder and saying, "I'm so sorry, Frodo."

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Pippin! He had to see Pip again and tell him – stop him from doing it. But how? He had already told Pippin how he felt and then left him to make his own decision. He could not decide this thing for him.

But no! Merry stopped just outside Pippin's room and sat on the floor leaning his back against the door. Frodo was right, he should not have left Pippin to make this decision on his own. Pip was not in his right mind, but he was and Pippin and his parents and all his kin relied on Meriadoc to protect his little cousin, to look after him and be the responsible one, both their fathers had said so.

He had let him down badly, Merry knew now, grieving over Gandalf so much he had forgotten Pippin. And now again, just when he needed it most, he, Merry, was about to let him down again!

That was it! At last Merry was filled with resolve, he had dithered too long, dangerously long. But he must act now, stop Pip before it was too late! He could not allow Galadriel to take his memories, it was too soon – Pip had to fight the pain – learn to cope with it – let it make him stronger! Merry would help him, would share the shameful memories and help him to live with it. They would do it together, whatever it took Merry would give – anything! Just as long as Pippin remained his Pip!

Merry jumped up to his feet and shrugged his clothes straight, lifted his determined little chin high and seized the door handle, knocking and entering, all in one smooth movement.

"Pip!" Merry froze. "Pippin? Pippin!"

"Oh he's gone Merry," Deilen was there, "The Lady Galadriel took him a while ago. He is to receive his treatment. Did you not know? I expect it is done by now."

"N-no… he- he can't! I n-need-ed t-to…" Merry realised he was stammering but he seemed unable to form whole words.

"Say goodbye?" Deilen stepped forward and bent to take Merry's hand in his. "It would have been too painful for both of you. The Lady did not want either of you to suffer further – it is better this way."

"Nooo!" Merry backed out of the door, shocked and stunned. This was the last thing he had expected. He had finally resolved to do the right thing but again he had left it too late. Now Pip and all that had made Pippin his own was gone – for ever !

Not seeing anyone or hearing anything, Merry fled down the flet stairs once more. Oblivious to the danger, even forgetting his recent accident, so great was his panic and remorse, he ran down the steps, barging into several elves on their way up and almost falling again, blinded as he was by tears and a terrible red mist that had descended over his vision.

One elf even caught him as he slipped, halting his progress and setting the hobbit on his feet once more, only to be pushed aside as Merry plunged on, unable to articulate or stop.

Not really knowing where he was going Merry ran on through the trees and finally, out of breath and being without direction, he flung himself down between the roots of an ancient but beautiful Mallorn, curling up into himself, his arms over his head.

The tree lightly touched the perian's shoulder and felt a shudder run through his ancient rings and patient, solid bark. The little one was suffering a hurt so great that naught could ever heal it; his pain was deep and wrought with guilt and self-loathing. The tree looked down in pity and sadness as the tiny creature sobbed and sobbed, his heart broken, wanting nothing for himself but death and an end to his pain.

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TBC

Author's Notes

This is a quick apology or two.
1. Sorry for the long wait.
2. Sorry that this has still left you hanging.
3. Sorry there are no individual answers to reviews.
4. Sorry for anything else that I may have forgotten to apologise for.

Okay, so much for the apologies, now the excuses.

1. Both Kooks and I been really, really busy with other stuff.
2. We suddenly realised there was at least another chapter in what was planned.
3. I'm off on hols tomorrow (week in Wales with Marigold) so it was without responses or not at all.
4. Hmm – no excuse for that.

In other news, the next chapter is mapped out and should be hard on the heels of this one, complete with notes and everything else a reader's heart desires.
Heddwch!

Llinos and Kookaburra and Marigold