Summary: Merry and Pippin have their own special place, hidden away from prying eyes, to talk about things close to their heart: things only they know.
Author's Note: This has been sitting on my hard drive for a long while. I fell in love with Keane's song 'Somewhere Only We Know' after hearing Marty sing it on Australian Idol, and felt compelled to base a fic on it. I didn't use the words directly, just the general idea.
I do not own Tolkien, or any of the following names or places.
Somewhere Only We know Chapter One: A conspiracyPippin walked seemingly aimless down the path, pausing occasionally to enjoy the feel of the soft grass beneath his feet. For the past month, he had been locked up inside, forbidden to journey out into the gardens, until every single trace of his illness had been banished. Eglantine had always been overly protective, and Paladin indulged her, eager to see his son make it through each winter without being bedridden for once. Rarely it was that he did not fall sick, however, and looking back, he supposed his most recent bout of the Winter Illness had been particularly rough: not only on him, but his family.
He sighed. At twenty-eight, he was perfectly capable of caring for himself. But as usual, Merry and Frodo, and occasionally Sam, spent all their free time at his side, and his sisters were called home to help out about the smial. Most outrageous of all, Pimpernel and Pervinca had volunteered to do his own chores. Paladin had allowed the lasses to do his work!
He could not recall being so sick that he could not rise to do them himself. But he knew there had indeed been such an instance. He just could not remember it.
Frodo had only recently journeyed back home, to Hobbiton, having much to do. Frodo had told him hesitantly about Bag End, and it's soon to be new owners. Pippin growled low in his throat: Imagine the Sackville-Baggins's residing there. Actually laying about in Pippin's own room, invading the hill with all their horrid, grim belongings.
Frodo was out of his mind. Anyone would have been better. But then, dear cousin Frodo had run out of his money… Pippin snorted.
Pausing one final time, he scanned the area carefully. None but the birds were present to watch him as he stooped low beneath the bushes, and crawled for several yards, before emerging in a small glade, cushioned by soft, green grass. He smiled, inhaling deeply, delighted by the sweet, fresh air. He ignored the faint twinge in his chest, and continued on, breaking into a triumphant run as he climbed the hill, and plunged through the long grass towards the river.
He loved the feel of the grass brushing past his chest, the feeling of running over an unknown landscape, wind streaming through his bouncing, golden curls as he flew: flew past the trees and flowering bushes.
A fast runner he had always been, much faster than Merry, or even Frodo. A trait that he had always depended heavily upon, as he used it frequently to escape severe punishment.
So, Falcon, as Merry once called him, ran as no other he knew could, and whooped aloud from the joy of it.
The grass hill dropped away slowly, as did his speed, but for once he was not yet breathless, so he jogged easily down towards the massive tree trunk, situated at the very bottom of the dell.
Standing still for a moment, he looked about and listened. A faint rustling in the tree above confirmed his guess, but he was content to watch the scenery for a moment. The small clearing beneath was slightly shadowed, covered by the rich canopy of the surrounding trees, but sunlight glistened through gaps in the leaves, illuminating patches on the soft grass, and clumps of peaceful flowers.
With a happy sigh, he turned back to the tree, and began to climb.
No one knew about this place but them: not even Frodo. Years and years ago they had found it, running away from the wrath of Pippin's sisters. Who could tell that they would react so badly to a minor misunderstanding? Merry and Pippin swiftly realised that a girl's closet was not to be tangled with, and took the first chance they had to run.
Instantly it was obvious that no one frequented the spot, but it had once, long ago, been a hideout of the Old Took himself. Gerontius had carved out his initials in the improvised cubby, built into the wide branches of the huge, strong tree. That it had once belonged to Pippin's great great grandfather was a point of endless fascination for them.
The 'house' itself was big enough to comfortably support four, which meant that the pair of them could spread out comfortably, on the soft cushions they had made from old bed sheets and dragged up there.
Hand over hand, Pippin pulled himself easily up the tree, steadily for three or four minutes, before reaching the wooden platform, and rolling up to sit cross legged on the pillowed floor.
Merry smiled at him from his usual position, and gestured to his dirt covered and grass-stained shirt.
"You had better be clean before we get back, Peregrin. Your mother will have our heads."
Pippin grinned, and leant down, resting his chin on his folded arms.
"Oh, you're no better yourself, Meriadoc. How long have you been here?" Merry shrugged, looking out the window, sunlight glittering upon his bright eyes.
"Not long, Pip. I walked about for a while this morning, while you slept in, and found myself here maybe an hour ago." Pippin smiled grimly.
"Mother wouldn't let me up before ten, Merry. I think she forgets that I am nearly of age." Merry snorted.
"Nearly of age? Five years, Pippin, hardly counts as 'nearly'. Still, I think she has a good point. If you ever fall so sick again, I shall have to kill you myself." They smiled at his words, but well understood the hidden message. Pippin knew that it had only been by a thin margin that he had ever woken up again and left his bed, this time. He could not imagine what Merry must have gone through; what Merry went through every time he fell sick.
"We have not been here for a long while, Merry." He remarked softly. His friend nodded, plucking a slightly golden leaf from the floor, and allowing it to be picked up by the wind, and blown out the window into the woods.
"Not for a few months, no. Other things were of more importance, I suppose." He smiled wryly a little, and Pippin winced, knowing that he was still recovering the pain he must have felt. "But enough of that. You're more than well now, I can see. I noticed you running back there. You must be nearly recovered enough to start chores again." Pippin grinned, and shrugged his shoulders.
"I suppose, Merry-my-lad. Be sure to stay around so as to give me some pointers. I may have forgotten how everything works. Surely I am too young to be left alone in the fields."
"Merry-my-lad my backside, Pippin." he replied, provoking a giggle. "You can manage well enough, I am sure."
"Why? Aren't you going to stay?" asked Pippin quickly, alarmed.
"Of course I am, Pip, but only for another week. I have to head back to Hobbiton, then." For a moment, Pippin looked crestfallen, before understanding passed across his young face.
"Oh. Are… are you staying at Bag End?"
"No," he answered quickly. "No, not yet. I'm simply spending a week down at the Inn, to have as many opportunities as I can get to speak to Sam. Then I'll return here for a fortnight, before we go back together for Frodo's birthday."
"He will be there, won't he?" asked Pippin quietly, looking suddenly miserable. "I mean, on the 22nd."
"I don't see why not, Pippin," said Merry gently. "He will need to see you once more, to make sure you are quite healed. Which I hope very much you are." He held out an arm, and Pippin shuffled over, settling into the hug gratefully.
"Do you think so?"
"Pippin, this is Frodo we're speaking about." Replied Merry with a fond smile. "He won't go anywhere without making sure his favourite runt of a cousin is alright. Paladin had to force him to go home." Pippin allowed a brief chuckle at that.
"Wish I could have seen that."
"Oh, and by the way, Sam sends his best regards. He passed by earlier on his way home, collecting some packages for Frodo's belongings."
"Good old Sam."
"He also said to 'stay rested up, so as to be healthy on Master Frodo's birthday. It wouldn't be the same without young Master Pippin there to sing for everyone'." Pippin laughed outright at that: it was true that Pippin sang often at such parties, but it was mostly under the influence of his ale.
A comfortable silence fell upon them, listening to the sound of the forest: soft winds rustled the leaves and grass, birds sang in the distance, water lapped nearby in the creek.
Pippin turned about suddenly, gazing up at his cousin with a worried expression.
"Merry… you are going to let me come, aren't you?" Merry said nothing for a moment, staring ahead into the treetops, and Pippin ploughed ahead, speaking hurriedly. "I truly am much better now, and I will be fully recovered by Frodo's birthday. You know that. And I'm unlikely to fall sick again for quite some time now. Mostly it happens only once a year, sometimes less. And you won't get far without my singing, will you Mer?" The light jest at the end did nothing in convincing his cousin, and Pippin's face fell, horrified. "You wouldn't leave me, Merry, would you?"
The pleading look on Pippin's face was enough to bring a sad smile to Merry's troubled face.
"Pippin… I know I told you that I was happy for you to come, but truthfully I am not. And I doubt Frodo would be either. As you so tactfully pointed out earlier, you are not of age. You are too young even to legally smoke your pipe… but that has never stopped you, I notice."
"You pressed it upon me." Murmured Pippin miserably.
"You were right when you said that I would not get far without you. I don't think I could abide being apart from you for a terribly long time, but…" he sighed. "Even I cannot understand what leaving the Shire will mean. It will be dangerous, though: of that I have no doubt. I am still trying to decide what I would prefer: having you at my side and in danger, or safely back in the Shire, wretched."
Pippin turned his head to meet Merry's concerned gaze, and ignored the tears falling from his own eyes. He grabbed at his cousin's hand, clinging tightly, and tried hard not to shiver as the breeze turned chilly, invading his loose shirt to send a wave of coldness down his still weak body.
"Merry," he whispered, pleading. "You just can't leave me here. I thought you had agreed. I know it will be dangerous, even if I cannot understand how. But it will be far more dangerous to leave me here." Merry blinked at the logic of that. "I can't live without you and Frodo, Merry. I would go insane, if you were both to go off and leave me! Even if I am of no good, I need to be at your side, doing what I can for Frodo. I am worried about him. I know well that I am mostly useless at defending him from anything in the wild, but I… I can cheer him up. You've said it yourself. Frodo's been so quiet and depressed of late, but I can always make him smile." Merry allowed a brief smile of his own, raising a hand to wipe away the stream of tears running down his cousin's face.
"Pippin, lad, don't cry… I didn't say you could not come. I simply said I did not wholly want you to. Do you have an idea of how hard this last month has been for us?" Pippin nodded slightly, but Merry shook his head.
"Pip, you don't really have any idea at all. For a horrid few days, I thought… I actually thought I would lose you. Until you experience the same thing, and I hope you never will, you cannot begin to imagine how horrific it is. Pippin… if you were ever seriously injured, or… or killed… There is no way that I could ever get over it. It would most likely claim me also." He dipped his head slightly, blinking quickly. "You're my best friend in this world, but so much more than that at the same time. When they let me in, and you were just lying there…" Pippin was startled when Merry gave a soft sob, and crawled forwards to wrap his arms about his elder cousin. "I don't ever want to lose you, Pip."
"But Merry, if you leave without me, that's exactly what you'll be doing." Argued Pippin gently, still ignoring his own tears, leaving a hot trail down his cheeks.
Merry hugged him tightly, inhaling deeply and smiling at the familiar scent of Pippin's golden curls. He closed his eyes briefly, and leant back, surveying his young cousin with a sad grin.
"I could never leave you, Pippin. I don't think I would even make it out of the Shire, before turning back for you."
Pippin grinned and threw himself at Merry once more, letting out his own sob of relief and joy.
Together they sat, pouring out all the grief and heartache they had created at the very thought of separating. All the while, the wind took on a warmer tone, and the afternoon rolled on. Birds chirruped on their way past, darting off home. The sun moved off back towards her home, becoming softer and slightly more comforting, as it took on an orange glow.
Eventually the tears slowed, and they smiled and laughed more than they sobbed. Merry reached out and ruffled Pippin's curls fondly, grinning widely.
"I haven't cried like that for a while, Pip. I feel like a young lad again, almost." Pippin smiled.
"It proves that I am far too deeply entwined within your soul, Meriadoc." He replied airily, doing a marvelous impression of Merry's grandma Menegilda. Merry laughed, and rubbed at his face.
"Well, you are right, Pip. Perhaps I have grown somewhat attached to you over the years. This whole thing has been bothering me much more than I have been letting on. I'm glad it's resolved now." Pippin nodded, leaning back to rest his head on Merry's knee.
"Me too." He mumbled in agreement.
"You realise, Pippin, that… if we leave with Frodo… we may never return." Said Merry softly, almost reluctantly. Pippin nodded.
"I do realise, Merry. But I'd rather that than remaining here, while you both left without me and never returned."
"You're sure you are alright with leaving your family? They can't know, Pip." Pippin nodded slowly, feeling slightly ill. His family had always been so close by. His mother and father spent weeks and weeks away from their work when he was sick, simply sitting at his side and caring to his every need. It seemed such a massive betrayal to simply leave them, with no explanation.
"Could I leave a letter for them?" he asked. Merry considered.
"I don't see why not. But they can't know where we've gone, and they can't find it until after we are safely out of the Shire." Pippin nodded, closing his eyes briefly.
"I understand. Are you doing that too?" Merry sighed.
"I think so, Pip. I couldn't just leave them with no word… I'll have to start thinking about it, I suppose." Pippin turned his head slightly to gaze up at Merry, and smiled hesitantly.
"We can do it together, Mer." Merry chuckled, a much easier sound.
"Of course we can. It will be easier that way. I suggest you spend this next week with your parents, as much as possible, Pip. Say your goodbyes to your sisters, too, if you get a chance. Pearl is still here, yes?" Pippin nodded, then shook his head in exasperation.
"Of course she is. Pimpernel too. They think I will shatter into nothing if they leave my side before there is not a trace of the illness left." Grinning, Merry lifted his cousin off his knees, and climbed awkwardly to his stiff feet.
"Well, you've always been a tad delicate, Pip. But speaking of your sisters, we have other things to do, my friend. Chores and the like. Come on."
With an exaggerated sigh, Pippin flipped onto his knees and pulled himself up, following Merry as he climbed carefully down the ladder.
"Gerontius was a fine builder, Pippin, if this ladder is still strong enough to hold us." Remarked Merry suddenly, as he jumped the last few feet to the bottom. Pippin nodded proudly.
"All Tooks are fine builders." He declared, descending at last and straightening his shirt. "Tooks are fine hobbits in general, are they not?"
"Indeed," said Merry with a smile, looking him up and down. "Look at you, spindly," He laughed. "You're quite a sight." Pippin grinned and glanced down at himself. His ribs were sticking out of his chest, and even he had to admit that his arms looked like twigs. "Very unhobbit-like, Pippin. You have no stomach at all." Pippin chuckled.
"Compared to who?" Merry scowled at him, but Pippin gave him no opportunity to argue. "Race you to the dell!" he cried, breaking into a run. He whooped as he ran, curls bouncing in the last of the sunlight, and Merry grinned, tearing after him. A day would soon come when there was no time to play, or no will to partake in it, but at that moment, he was content to enjoy the happy times he had left with his friend.
Before they were taken away from him.
TBC, please r&r