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Grey… why did everything look so grey?

Merry Brandybuck sat on one of the many doorsteps of Brandy Hall with his cloak drawn close around him as he stared blankly up at the cloudy sky. It was wintertime in the Shire, and a snowstorm had blown through Buckland the previous night, leaving the land covered in a blanket of white powder. The trees were all bare, and the Brandywine River reflected the grey sky overhead. Thus far Merry had not been having a very enjoyable morning, though he could not understand why. He figured his mood just changed whenever it felt like changing just because it felt like it. His mother teased in good humor that it was because he was a tween. Whichever the case, Merry was rather glum, and after first breakfast he had gone outside for some air, and some room to think.

The chatter in the Hall beyond the closed door behind him had gradually faded away as his thoughts began to drift more and more. His cousin Frodo had come of age that fall, and Bilbo had mysteriously disappeared, leaving poor Frodo (and of course his dear cousin Merry) with handling all the inquisitive relatives and pesky, nosy hobbits who held their noses higher than everyone else. By nature hobbits are amiable creatures, but as any hobbit living in the Shire would know, no one is perfect.

But what had really gotten to Merry was the fact that Frodo was now considered an adult hobbit. Merry had known Frodo all his life, and he was always there as a friend and caring cousin. Now that he was adult and master of Bag End, Frodo would have more important matters to be concerned with. Merry knew that romping around the Shire with his cousin would not be on the top of Frodo's priorities list. This had an effect on Merry; he reasoned that perhaps this was why he was not his (for lack of a better word) merry self all the time, not this "tween" mood swings concept his mother came up with.

Merry's thoughts were interrupted suddenly when out of the corner of his eye he saw something white hurtling toward his head. Having no time to duck, the snowball that had been launched so accurately collided with the side of his head and made a small pile of white powder on his shoulder. Startled at the sudden interruption, Merry looked around and then sighed in mild annoyance upon seeing a green-eyed hobbit leaning his shoulder against the wall, grinning cheekily at him.

"Pippin, what did you do that for?" asked Merry exasperatedly.

The Took shrugged. "You looked so serious and, well, so much like a statue that I wondered whether you were still alive or in a trance," he replied simply.

Merry sighed, rolling his eyes, and turned away from his cousin. Pippin could not fathom how much was on his mind that morning. And even if he could, Merry figured he would not understand. Pippin was still young enough to be naïve and innocent in matters that concerned his friends and family. Merry on the other hand was older, with slightly more experience, and—

"Merry, what's wrong with you these days?" asked Pippin softly. His voice was serious now. He had also interrupted Merry's train of thought, again. "You act strange all the time."

"I don't act strange all the time!" protested Merry, turning his head to look at Pippin and raising his eyebrows.

Pippin slowly grinned at him. "Ah, so by what you just said there, you admit that you act strange some of the time," he said.

Merry let out an agitated sigh and roughly packed a quick snowball. "Would you quit harassing me, Pip! I need a little time to myself," he said, tossing the snowball at the Took.

Pippin tried to dodge it but it hit him in the shoulder. "Oi! Merry! No need for that!" he said whilst packing another snowball himself.

Merry saw it coming, but by the time Pippin had hurled it at him, he had no place to go, the door behind him and a snow bank below the steps to his left. In an effort to avoid the projectile, Merry jolted himself away from its source; unfortunately, he overbalanced and toppled into the previously mentioned snow bank head first. Surrounded by snow from the waist up, and upside down, Merry could hear Pippin's loud whoops of laughter.

"Merry, you look positively ridiculous!"

He had pulled at Merry's last nerve. Though Merry found it quite difficult to be angry at Pippin for laughing. Merry could only imagine what he looked like in that snow bank. Smirking evilly to himself he began packing a large snowball out of the powder in front of his chest.

"All right, Pippin, you've had your fun!" he called. "Now help me out of this snow bank!"

Merry felt Pippin grasp the back of his waistcoat, and as he pulled him up, along came the great snowball Merry had been packing. Before Pippin knew it his cousin's arms had flown back and shoved the snow right into his face. Letting out a yelp of surprise, Pippin brought both hands to his face to wipe the snow away, allowing Merry's laughter to be cut short as he tumbled into the snow bank once more.

Once Pippin had blinked the last bit of water out of his eyes, he saw Merry's head pop out of the snow; he was still giggling to himself. After the two had shared their moment of amusement, Merry cleared his throat and looked pleadingly up at Pippin.

"Ah, would you mind giving me a hand?" he asked.

Pippin grinned at him. "Nah! I think I'll just leave you there for the birds to peck at 'till spring comes," he said.

"Well that doesn't seem very fair!" exclaimed Merry with a laugh

"Well, that's just the way it is, isn't it, cousin?"

Merry smirked and before Pippin knew it, he had grabbed a hold of his ankle and sent him tumbling down into the snow bank beside him. Merry giggled to himself as Pippin popped his head out of the snow to mock-glare at him.

"Now look what you've done. We'll both be stuck here till spring, now!" he said.

"At least the birds won't go hungry," said Merry.

The two shared a laugh, but were abruptly cut short when Merry's mother appeared at the door. She simply stared at the two lads' heads, with snow in their hair and amusement on their faces. She quirked an eyebrow at them.

"Heh heh, hullo Aunt Esme," said Pippin. "Lovely day outside, isn't it?"

Esmeralda shook her head with a small smile spreading across her face. "If you say so, lad, but you two ought to come inside for some tea and dry off before you catch cold."

"Yes, Mum," said Merry.

Once she had gone, Pippin looked over at Merry. "I suppose we should take your Mum's advice."

"Yes, I suppose," replied Merry absently.

The two managed to pull themselves out of the snow bank and stood on the doorstep, brushing snow off their clothing.

"Merry?" asked Pippin after a moment.

"Yeah, Pip."

"You aren't going to grow up as fast as Frodo, are you?"

Caught off-guard, Merry looked up at Pippin only to see that he was absolutely serious. So he did know what Merry had been thinking about. Pippin surprised him sometimes.

Merry smiled encouragingly. "Of course not, Pip. And even when I come of age we'll still tramp about the Shire, I promise," he said.

Pippin grinned. "Farmer Maggot won't be so easily rid of us as he'd think."

"Oh of course he won't. It'll take more than a few years to take the fun out of snatching some snacks out of his fields."

"Yes, I suppose we'll even be accompanying our grandchildren and showing them how best to avoid him and his dogs," snickered Pippin.

As the two turned toward Brandy Hall, Merry realized something. No matter how old they got, he would always have Pippin at his side. Somehow he knew that they would always be cousins and best friends.

Casting one last glance behind him before he closed the door, Merry suddenly thought that maybe everything wasn't so grey after all.