"Why've you stopped? Are we here? Is this it? Where is it, Merry, where is it?"
"It's a tree house, Pip, where do you think it is?"
Pippin looked up, his eyes screwed up against the afternoon sun.
"Oooh!"
They had built it a couple of summers ago, Frodo and he. Well, Frodo had built it. He had designed it, too. Merry's main contribution had been to pass instruments to Frodo and to help him carry the heavier pieces of wood. Once, he had tried to knock a few nails into an unsecured plank of wood only to hear Frodo yelp behind him and make him promise to not interfere without express permission. So Merry had watched and commented and laughed as Frodo hammered and sawed and sweated and eventually it had all come together. It was what Frodo had wanted: a place of his own, away from the busyness and bustle of elsewhere. That he had conceded to share it with his unhelpful younger cousin was typical of his good nature and they had spent weeks together.
Then Frodo had gone, left for Bag End. He was a Baggins, Merry's mother had reminded him, he was doing what was right. Merry understood, but the understanding didn't take away the emptiness of sitting alone. He left the tree house and forgot about it. Frodo came back sometimes; he was back now, for a week, but while he joked and chatted with Merry, he seemed more serious, more grown-up, and Merry didn't want to remind him of this part of their lives together.
Now there was Pippin, the little Took with an unquenchable thirst for adventure, exploration and excitement.
"Isn't there anything else?" he had asked Merry after they had trundled through the hidden passages of the house for the fifth time.
And Merry had remembered the tree house.
"How are we supposed to get up there?" Pippin asked. "I can't climb trees very well, you know."
"There's a ladder," Merry smiled. "Hope it's still here..."
His voice trailed off as he pawed through the undergrowth surrounding them. A triumphant cry a few minutes later revealed that it was.
Merry propped it up against the tree. "You go first, then I can catch you if you fall."
Pippin wrinkled his nose as he touched the ladder. The wood was damp and green with moss. "No, you go first. It might be rotten."
"Charming!" Merry laughed. "All right, though I'm sure it's fine."
He sped up the ladder with ease and looked down at Pippin.
"Happy? Now you."
Pippin had been less certain but eventually, he was at the top of the ladder.
"Well done, that's right," Merry encouraged. "Now, you just need to get onto this branch and it's a step onto the platform, easy. Just be careful. Now, swing your leg over...no, don't...Pippin, wait...PIPPIN!"
In his hurry to get off the ladder, the eager hobbit had thrashed out his legs and it had swayed, then fallen to the ground, thwacking back into the undergrowth.
Pippin clung desperately to the branch and bit his lip.
"Oops."
"Too bloody right, oops!" He saw Pippin's guilty face and knew he couldn't stay angry. "Look, just crawl onto the platform and we'll work out what to do."
Pippin had meekly obeyed and they sat in the tree house, regarding each other.
"Right. Right. So we're up the tree without a ladder. Any suggestions?" Merry asked.
"I suppose we could just wait until somebody finds us..."
"We could just wait until somebody finds us. Genius. That could be days."
Pippin swallowed. "Days? But I'm scared of heights!"
Merry shook his head in disbelief. "Why in middle earth did you want to come to a tree house if you're scared of heights?"
"You suggested it. I just wanted to do what you wanted to do," Pippin explained shyly.
"Oh. Well, just don't think about the height then."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good."
"Good."
Merry stood up and walked around the room. He examined it as he went, remembering each nail. He let his hand trail along the edge of a window.
"You'll get a splinter," Pippin warned him.
As always, his timing was perfect.
"Ow!"
"What?" Pippin asked.
"Nothing," Merry said hurriedly, hiding his hand behind him.
"Oh, MERRY. Come here. I'll get it out for you."
Sighing, Merry returned to Pippin and held out his hand, complete with splinter embedded in his index finger. Pippin took his hand and bent over it, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.
"Ow!"
"I'm being careful," Pippin promised.
"Sorry. It was stupid."
Pippin smiled. "Yes."
"Not like me."
"No, like me," Pippin agreed.
"No, that wasn't what I..." Merry started.
"It's all right, Merry, I know," Pippin said soothingly. "It's just that..."
"What?"
"Nothing."
There was a silence filled only by overenthusiastic birds in the distance. Merry watched Pippin as he worked on his finger. He'd never really looked at him before and he realised something.
"You're very beautiful, Pip."
Pippin looked up, startled. Now where had that come from?
"I just...I don't know. You're beautiful."
"Well, thank you, Merry." Pippin looked down again quickly, but he was blushing.
He couldn't do this. He could NOT do this. It had happened with Frodo, the last few days with Frodo. Frodo had said he was going and Merry had realised he'd fallen in love with him and that was it. Years of loneliness. Pointless hours spent remembering every second with him. It had only been recently that he'd finally given up on it all. He'd left his feelings for Frodo and for a few weeks he'd been free; bewildered, lost, but free of the crippling love.
And here it was again. Another friend but the same feeling. He couldn't allow it to happen. He had to forget it now or live with it forever.
"You're beautiful, too."
Merry started.
"Done. Splinter's out," Pippin said triumphantly.
"What did you say?" Merry asked.
"The splinter. I got it out. Hope I didn't hurt you too much."
Merry squinted at his index finger.
"Thanks, Pip."
"The others'll be missing us by now, I expect," Pippin said.
"Mmm," Merry confirmed. "But nobody knows about here. It'll take them a while to search the house AND the land for us."
Pippin sighed dramatically. "What are we going to do?"
Merry shrugged. Then he shivered.
"Are you cold?" Pippin asked. He looked out of the window. "It's getting dark. The sun's disappearing."
He looked around the sparse room. There was a makeshift cupboard in the corner.
"What's in there?"
"I don't know," Merry answered. "Frodo was in charge of supplies."
"Oh?" Pippin asked. "Frodo knew about here?"
"Didn't I say? He built it. It's his tree house, really," Merry explained.
"Oh, I see," Pippin said. "I expect he spent a lot of time alone here, knowing him."
"Well, I was here most of the time with him."
"What, just the two of you?" Pippin asked.
Merry nodded.
Pippin didn't comment, but turned and looked through the cupboard.
"A blanket! You can have that. You look frozen."
"No, no, I don't want to be..."
"You won't," Pippin insisted. He pulled out the blanket; it was a blue and green creation, thick but dusty. "At least it'll be warm."
He crouched and draped it around Merry's shoulders. "There."
He stayed in that position. Merry looked into his eyes. "What is it, Pip?"
His eyes have always looked like that, don't let yourself be drawn in by them, don't let go and fall into this trap.
"Merry," Pippin whispered. "Oh, Merry..."
Don't let him get to you. He's just being friendly. He doesn't mean anything. He's just a friend, a good friend.
Pippin lifted his hand and touched Merry's face.
It's not real, you're imagining it, you're imagining it...
He leaned forwards and kissed Merry softly. It was barely for a second, then he withdrew and dropped his hand.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"Pip," Merry replied, amazed.
"I didn't mean to," Pippin said.
"Are you serious? Pippin, please! Did you mean to? Did you want to?" Merry's eyes were wide with desperation. "You've got to tell me."
"I..." Pippin started, so softly it was barely audible.
"Well, look who it is! I had a feeling you might be here, Merry. Oh, and Pippin! Hello there...well, I saw the ladder was down. Heard voices. Thought I'd help you out. Though why I should, you using my tree house like this..."
"Hello, Frodo," Merry said dully.