A low moan escaped his lips as sometime later Merry began to awaken. His first thought was of Pip, but then he remembered that Pip had been taken; he was alone now. Silent tears of frustration trickled down his cheeks as he struggled to free himself from the dead weight of the carcass that pinned him to the muddy ground, but his pain-filled body was too weak and too cold, and he quickly fell still once more. The putrid smell coming from the dead beast was making him feel nauseous, and each shallow breath he took was accompanied by a fresh bout of pain from his chest as he fought for air beneath the crushing weight of the body. Fog began to penetrate his vision, and he felt himself slipping away again. He felt relief; maybe then he could escape the pain he felt, a respite from this nightmare he couldn't find a way out of. He was plunged in to darkness; his body went limp once more.

It had taken a while before he was certain that it was safe to leave the younger hobbit. He had carried him away to a clearing about quarter of a mile east of where he had left his fellow fighting the ailing beast, laid him carefully down on the ground near the centre of the clearing and then proceeded to build a small fire beside him in an attempt to provide some warmth and some light so that he would be able to better assess the injuries to the hobbit's chest. He thought it might also be of some comfort to the small hobbit when he awoke. The rain had left the branches damp and therefore difficult to light, so it had taken a good many attempts for any sparks to catch alight, but his perseverance had eventually paid off.

He had then begun to work on staunching the blood that flowed freely from the hobbit's injured chest. He stripped away his cloak first, leaving it beside the fire in an attempt to dry it, and then removed his shirt which he tore in to strips. He pressed some of the material tightly against the deep wounds, applying as much pressure as he could, and slowly the bleeding began to subside. When he was sure that it was safe to remove some of the pressure, he took the remaining strips and tied them about the hobbit's chest like a bandage. The wounds would need cleaning and stitching before they could become infected, but for now the hobbit was out of danger. It was time now to see to his fellow. He took the cloak from beside the fire, wrapped it around the unconscious hobbit's shoulders and stepped once more out in to the shadows.

Merry slowly opened his eyes. The world began spinning, moving in and out of focus rapidly. It made his unsettled stomach feel even worse, so he swiftly shut his eyes again. The pain in his chest had doubled in intensity; the last thing he needed right now was to vomit. He cried out as fresh pain lanced throughout his entire body. Time was running out, soon he would be lost forever to the darkness ever present in his mind. Again he struggled weakly against the body that still held him, desperate to escape the inevitable. It was no good; he had no strength left in him to fight. As if from far away, he heard footsteps, the soft crunch of damp leaves as the figure approached him. He was past caring if they meant good or ill towards him; he just wanted an end to this nightmare, for then he could be with Pip once more.

He looked carefully around the clearing, ears alert to the slightest sound. He could hear the ragged breathing of the hobbit as he fought for each painful breath, but otherwise the place was silent, empty except for the victor and the carcass of his vanquished foe. There wasn't much time. Still alert, he approached the dead beast and gently rolled it off the hobbit, nose wrinkling in disgust at the smell emanating from the body of the foul creature. He looked down at the pale hobbit, eyes closed, barely taking in a breath now. It was obvious that the weight of the creature would have some impact on the chest, so he began to gently press his fingers against the ribs, checking for any breaks. It was then that the hobbit jerked back in to consciousness, rolling over and vomiting until all that was left was the foul fluids from his stomach. His face was screwed up tightly, presumably due to the considerable pain his movement caused to his chest. As the pain subsided, he opened his eyes a fraction. He caught sight of the figure bent over him, concerned eyes studying him carefully.

"R-rugigar?"

His voice was raspy, throat strained from vomiting. Rugigar Bolger smiled at him and gently turned him on to his back.

"You've broken some ribs, Merry, so it's best if you just stay still, at least until I can figure out a way to move you without causing any more damage."

Merry nodded weakly and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he would not be up to walking anywhere, at least not for now, and he wasn't sure whether a litter would cause him to be jolted around too much, causing unnecessary pain.

"I think I'm going to have to carry you, it's not too far. Just let me know if your chest gets too painful, and we can stop for a bit, alright?"

Merry smiled tiredly. Rugigar gently scooped him up in to his arms and began to walk eastwards.

Pippin sat miserably beside the fire, cloak drawn tightly against his aching body. He was cold, tired and in pain. He had woken just a few minutes earlier to find himself alone. There was a small fire nearby so he crawled towards it, looking for some comfort in its warmth. He was shivering violently; looking down, he realised he was no longer wearing a shirt. Instead he saw his chest was swathed in bloody material. He began to tentively peel back the makeshift bandages, and was horrified to see the wounds that lay underneath. They had begun to ooze blood again as he removed the material; panicking, he wound the material back around his chest, desperate to stop the flow of the crimson liquid. With clumsy, shaking hands he managed to secure the material once more, then collapsed back on the ground, sobbing. He wanted Merry, he couldn't understand why his cousin had left him here alone; didn't Merry know he needed him?

You know he would be here if he did. Perhaps he needs you instead.

He hastily sat back up beside the fire, drying his tears. Merry could come back at any minute, and he had to be strong for them both. He sat in silence, waiting.

By the time Rugigar arrived back at the clearing an hour later, Merry had passed out again. It had made the last few minutes of the journey slightly easier for them both; Rugigar no longer had to worry about causing Merry pain as he trod as steadily as possible along the uneven path back to Pippin. He studied the younger hobbit, ghostly pale in the firelight, as he set Merry down gently on the ground. He seemed totally oblivious to the world around him, lost in dark thoughts. Rugigar knew that it was important that he see to Merry, but he wanted to make sure Pippin was alright first, with everything that had been going on over the last few hours. He approached him quietly and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. He felt Pippin jump with surprise. He whispered softly to him.

"How're you feeling?"

Pip replied to him in a quiet, scared voice, one that Rugigar certainly wasn't accustomed to.

"It's all my fault isn't it? I mean, Merry is gone because of my stupid mistakes, my pride! My stupid pride!"

His voice cracked as he said the last word, and he quickly dissolved in to tears again. Rugigar put a comforting arm around his shaking shoulders.

"It's okay Pip, Merry's here, he's safe. He's broken a couple of ribs, and he's going to pretty sore and bruised for a couple of weeks, but he will be alright. I just need to check your chest, then perhaps you should go and sit with him? He'll be glad to see you when he wakes up, I'm sure he's been worried about you."

He carefully unwound the material on Pippin's chest and inspected the wounds carefully. There was no sign of infection, although the wound had been bleeding again. He said nothing to Pippin, but he knew he would have to keep an eye on that. He wrapped the material back around Pippin's chest, helped him to his feet and led him over to where Merry lay on the ground on the other side of the fire. Pippin immediately grasped his cousin's hand, and began talking to him in a low voice choked with tears.

"I'm so sorry Merry. It's all my fault, I just wanted to prove myself, I thought I was supposed to be strong now, but I was so scared!"

He snatched his cousin in to his arms, holding him tight as tears streamed down his face. Rugigar turned his attention away from them and towards the fire, wishing to give Pippin a few moments of privacy with Merry. He stoked the flames, thinking. He couldn't treat them both properly here; it was important that he cleaned Pippin's wounds; infection was a real worry right now. Merry certainly needed at least a few days rest in comfortable surroundings, and the forest floor was hardly what he would describe as comfortable. No, he thought to himself, I have to figure some way of getting them home, the sooner the better.

He called over to Pippin.

"I think perhaps you should rest for a couple of hours, recoup some of your strength. It's been a long day."

He watched Pippin curl up next to his cousin, and smiled wearily. It was going to be a long night too.

A/N: So there's chapter eight! I am so sorry it took so long to post; British public transport is not so easy to write on as I supposed! This story is drawing to an end now; I imagine the next chapter is likely to be the last, so if you do have any feedback at all, good or bad, get it in soon! It could make a real difference. I will do my best to respond to all reviews.

I would like to say my usual thanks to those who have reviewed so far, Co- I'm so sorry to keep you hanging, but I do love reactions like yours!

I would also like to thank my friends Chris and Liz, without whose continued support this would probably have come to a standstill. It means a lot you guys!

Thanks to you all just for reading; I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it!

Until next time…….

SmileyHalo