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lotr_sesaTitle: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Author: Catherine
Pairing: M/P
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Slash; Some angst; h/c;
Disclaimer: The characters and settings are the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and belong to his estate, heirs and assigns, as well as various movie studios and bigwigs, including the various Saul Zaentz companies, New Line Studios and Wingnut Productions. The order of the words contained herein is mine. I make no money doing this, and no disrespect is intended.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danachan, as part of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lotr_sesa challenge, who requested a before and after story. I hope you like it, Dana.
Feedback: Sure! I'll just put myself right in front of that big ol' troll when you tell it where to walk!
Buckland
Merry sat in his favourite orchard, cuddling his favourite hobbit, with his back pressed up against his favourite tree. It was an ancient apple tree, with a thick, gnarly trunk that curved perfectly to suit his back and a beautiful arch of branches and leaves to shade them from the summer sun. When he was a child, it had produced the tastiest apples: green with a faint blush of peach, with a taste of perfume and sunshine perfectly blended with honey and oranges, more perfectly crisp and fresh than any other taste in the Shire. Now, its fruit was less sweet, suiting itself best for the cider press. But to Merry, it was still the most beautiful tree on his father's vast estate, and he could often be found here when he wanted to read a book, contemplate the world, or gaze into the eyes of his beloved Pippin. Which is what he really wanted to be doing now, but Pippin was snoring very loudly on his chest, rather spoiling the mood, in the older cousin's opinion.
Merry shifted his weight a bit at a particularly loud snore. “Pippin!” he said, with a mixture of fondness and irritability.
“Hhm! What?” Startled green eyes snapped open as Pippin's head shot up. “Oh, Merry-love,” smiled Pippin, his face softening in a sleepy, silly way as his grin overtook it. He closed his eyes and snuggled down into Merry's neck, kissing his shoulder, fondly. “You're so comfortable, my Merry.” He nuzzled in close and wrapped himself comfortably around Merry as he settled in to sleep.
Merry couldn't help but wrap his arm tighter about his cousin's shoulders, kissing the crown of his head and letting the warmth of the day and of the emotions soothe some of his frustration. However, he couldn't just let Pippin fall asleep on him. Again. For the fourth time today. “Pippin,” he said softly. “Pip-love, why are you so sleepy today?”
“Hmm?” Pippin was startled out of the beginnings of sleep. “What, Merry?”
“Why are you so sleepy, love? You've not been able to keep your eyes open all day, much to my dismay. Why so tired?”
“Oh. I couldn't sleep last night,” said Pippin, yawning.
“Why not?”
“Well, you weren't there, of course, and I was so anxious to see you again, and so looking forward to coming here, and then when I finally fell asleep...” He trailed off, quietly.
“What, love?” prompted Merry, gently.
“I dreamed that you were in pain and always having nightmares and screaming for me and I couldn't move, couldn't respond. And then...” Pippin swallowed.
“And then?” asked Merry, not entirely sure he wanted to hear more.
Pippin fidgeted with the buttons on Merry's waistcoat. “Oh, no, Merry, it's just too silly! Just a really bad dream, is all.” He looked studiously at the buttons before leaning down quickly to kiss the V of skin just below Merry's throat.
“It must have been awfully bad to upset you this much, Pip,” said Merry, drawing his arm more tightly around his cousin. “You remember what they told us when we were children? About telling your dream so that you will never dream it again?”
Pippin swallowed, looking troubled. “They did tell us that, didn't they?” he mused. He sat up, disentangling himself from Merry and leaning back against the tree. Merry reached to encircle his shoulders, but held back at the look Pippin gave him.
Pippin took a deep breath. “Well, all of a sudden everything went dark. Everything, Merry. Even the very air went black. And you went black, Merry. I couldn't see you, but I couldn't even feel you. And I knew... I knew that the darkness had devoured you,” his voice had dropped low, filled with pain. “You were lost to me, forever, and I was screaming for you, and then something so heavy was on me, and I couldn't scream anymore, and I couldn't breathe, and even my heart couldn't beat anymore. I was so afraid,” he whispered, a tear escaping his eye. He shuddered and pulled himself together, swiping savagely at his face. “And then, I woke up and found myself all wound up in the sheets, and I really was having trouble breathing, after all,” he said in a tone of forced levity. He quickly dropped that demeanour, though, and his voice dropped to a murmur. “I couldn't sleep at all after that. There was no-one to talk to. It all seemed so real. And... I couldn't feel you, Merry. Even when I woke up.” He could not stop the tears now, and he looked away. “You were lost to me until I saw you today.”
Merry ached for Pippin as he watched him struggle with the memory of the nightmare. Of the two of them, Merry was the one far more likely to have the terrifying dreams come to him in the darkest hours. He was accustomed to waking up trembling, to having to soothe himself enough to get back to sleep. He usually kept these dreams away from Pippin, though it was certainly good to have him there when they occurred. That way he could ground himself in Pippin's scent, his warmth, the touch of his body as he curled around it, pressing close to quell the shivers running through his own. Pippin almost never had really bad dreams, and this sounded like the worst he had ever encountered.
At Pippin's last words, Merry drew his arms around him, even as he felt him tense. “Pippin, love, please come here. Here we are, in the light of a beautiful afternoon, sitting against my favourite tree. All I need to make my day complete is my favourite Hobbit in my arms until the end of time. Or maybe teatime. Or until my bum gets sore.”
Pippin laughed, despite himself, and relaxed a little, allowing Merry to draw him in. “Can't have your bum getting sore. It's such a nice bum... Merry...” He stole his arms around Merry and buried his face in his neck, weeping softly. “Merry, my Merry.”
“Pippin,” murmured Merry, pulling him in as close as he could, tears pricking hard at his own eyes. He kissed Pippin's head, running his hand through his hair, pressing small circles into his scalp. “Feel me, Pippin. I'm with you, love.” He slid further down, drawing Pippin with him, folding him closer.
“I feel you, my Merry.” He slipped his hand into Merry's shirt, caressing his chest and shoulder, kissing his jaw. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.” He kissed Pippin, tentatively.
Pippin leaned into Merry's mouth, tracing the outline of his lips before slipping in to entangle himself with his lover, making contact with every corner, reassuring himself. “Merry,” he said, breaking the kiss gently. He caressed Merry's face, tracing his jaw with his fingers. “Merry-love,” he smiled, kissing him again, fondly. “I want to make love to you for such a long time, and in so many ways. I'm just so tired right now, nothing's thinking straight!” Merry chuckled at that. Pippin yawned, wrapping his hand around the back of Merry's head and tangling his fingers in his hair. He pressed his forehead to Merry's. “Thank you, Merry,” he murmured.
Merry leaned into Pippin's forehead, gently soothing his scalp with fingers built for this touch. “You're welcome, love.” He kissed Pippin tenderly and pulled him down to lie once again on his chest. “Sleep now, Pip. I'm not going to let you sleep too much tonight, so you'd best do it whilst you can!”
“Mmmm!” Pippin smiled. “Sounds like a much better night than the last one!” He pressed a secret kiss to the base of Merry's throat. He was asleep before his lips left Merry's skin.
Merry held Pippin close. He gazed out over the hills, thinking about the journey they'd be beginning soon, and wondering if Frodo was dreaming about it, as well.
Ithilien
Merry sat by the cot in the tent in Ithilien, holding the least injured hand available to him. “And then we seized all the mushrooms we could before the dogs got to us and we ran like blazes straight up that tree! Do you remember the looks on their faces as we pelted them with the apples, Pip? How they finally turned and ran away? We may have lost the apples, but we saved all the mushrooms. Best mushroom stew we ever had, wasn't it?”
The figure on the bed was silent, almost gone. His breathing was faint and laboured. They had barely found him in time, and his ribs had been crushed under the weight of the troll. Merry had been talking to him for hours, holding his hand, refusing to leave for anything other than to relieve himself. He was exhausted, his voice hoarse, and his hand hurt horribly. Aragorn had said that Pippin had a chance, but that was far from the certainty that Merry sought.
As he looked at Pippin, Merry began to falter. “Pippin,” he rasped, “Pip, love, please, please come back to me. If you die, I think I probably will, too. I'm so tired, Pip. I don't sleep anymore. There are the dreams and... and I can't close my eyes and risk never seeing you again. I love you so much, my Pippin. Please, love, please come back to me. Pippin!” he sobbed, tears falling now, unstoppable from his drained, reddened eyes. He bent his head over Pippin's hand and kissed it, long and tenderly. “Ah, Pip-love, please.” he begged, caressing the fingers so carefully in his own. “Pippin! Pippin, Pip...” he trailed off in tears that overtook him and choked off his speech. “My Pippin!” He bowed his head over Pippin's hand and wept, long and hard.
Merry wept until he had no tears left, and then wept more; dry, wracking sobs that left him empty of all but pain. And then he wept beyond that until not even the pain was left to keep him company. With the clarity that comes only when one has survived the soul's death, Merry knew that Pippin would not wake then. He knew that this was his last goodbye. He pressed Pippin's hand between both his own. “My very dearest Pippin. I am so sorry that your nightmare came to pass. I am so sorry that I could not save you from it. I love you, Peregrin Took, to the end of days. I will go with you. Wait for me, sweetheart.” With that, he rose to kiss Pippin's brow in farewell. “My Pippin!” he sobbed in a cracked whisper, new tears wrenching themselves painfully from his eyes. He sat back down in the chair he had occupied for the last three sleepless days, put his head down on the coverlet near Pippin and lost consciousness.
Merry awoke some time later, his head aching. As he came to himself, he found that he was lying in a bed in a tent. A rush of horror and loss came over him as he realised that Pippin must no longer be with him, and he curled onto his side and wept. “Oh, Pippin!” he sobbed in a whisper. He shook too much to notice the shift and rustle of the bedding behind him.
“Merry,” said a faint voice behind him.
“Oh, Pip. I'm already dreaming of you, sweetheart.” He wept harder.
“Merry-mine,” said the voice, a little stronger. “Please turn and look at me, love. I can't touch you from here.”
“I know you can't, my dearest one. I'm still here and you're... over there.” He remained curled into himself, weeping.
“Merry-love,” the voice chuckled with a hitch, “That's rather the point of what I'm trying to say, isn't it?” The chuckle faded. “Please turn over, sweetheart. I need you to look at me.”
Merry shook his head and whimpered.
“Meriadoc Brandybuck, I'm not bloody dead yet!” the voice wheezed in angry pain. “Now turn around and look at me, dearest,” it pleaded, much more faintly. “Please, Merry. I hurt so much.”
Merry turned over at that, and found himself gazing into two moist, green eyes in the midst of a smiling, wincing, tear-stained face. Shocked, Merry could not stop staring at this sight he had thought never again to see in Middle-earth. “Pippin?” He reached a shaking hand to touch his face. “Pip, sweetheart!” He trembled all over at the feel of Pippin's cheek under his hand. “You're alive! You're with me!”
“That's what I've been trying to tell you, you stubborn, addle-pated Brandybuck,” smiled Pippin. He winced. “Merry-love, I'm not supposed to be on my side like this. Help me, please.”
Merry instantly sat up, and realised just as fast how bad an idea that was when his head made its presence very keenly felt. “Ohh,” he moaned, gathering himself as quickly as he could. He leaned over, wrapping his arm carefully around Pippin's shoulders to help him lie back down. It was the weight of him in his arm like this that convinced Merry that his Pippin was still with him. “Oh, Pip!” he said, caressing the beloved face with his hand. He did not try to hide his tears, or his smile.
“Merry,” said Pippin, now able to reach his less injured hand to touch Merry's face. “Please kiss me, Merry-mine. I've missed you so much!”
Merry leaned down and kissed Pippin as deeply as he dared, re-learning old contours and patterns, dearly loving the feel of Pippin's soft lips responding just as passionately to his own.
Pippin broke the kiss, panting with exertion and emotion. “Oh, Merry! It's been so long, and now I have to wait a donkey's age before I can do any more with you than kiss you.”
Merry cradled Pippin in his arms as much as his broken bones and bandages would permit. “Pippin! I thought I'd never see you again when I fell asleep. But how can you be so much better after only a few hours?”
Pippin rasped out a laugh. “Merry, hobbit of my heart, you've been unconscious for three days, love! I know, because I've been here the whole time.”
“Three days! But how? And when did you wake up?
“I woke up just as your face landed near me and you fainted,” said Pippin, his voice now low. “I'd heard you screaming for me, Merry. At least, it seemed like a scream from where I was. And then I heard you saying how sorry you were that my nightmare had come true, and I wanted so, so much to tell you that it hadn't entirely, that you had not faded or gone black, that I could still feel you; that I could feel you as you were under the tree that day back in the Shire, right before we left. But I couldn't reach you, sweetheart, and I heard you crying out for me, and... and then I heard you saying goodbye,” he choked.
Merry kissed his lover, gently, his tears falling on Pippin's cheeks. “Pippin, my love. I won't ever leave you again.”
Pippin smiled, tracing Merry's cheekbone. “Neither will I, love. That's why you're here. They wanted to put you in a separate bed, but I kept screaming, and they feared I'd die, so they put you in bed with me.” He drew Merry down for another kiss. “But Merry-love, I'm not the only one who needs care, you know. They said you hadn't eaten or drunk anything, or slept for three days, and that's what made you faint. And that was on top of your own injuries, which are serious, Merry. So I'm under strict orders to see to your health, as best I can, which really means that I am to do whatever I can to keep you calm and rested, to keep you right here in this bed.” He kissed him again. Gingerly, he moved his less injured arm around Merry and settled him very carefully down so that his head was cradled on Pippin's shoulder. “Sleep now, love. Take all the rest and sleep that you can while it's offered you.”
“My Pippin,” Merry said, kissing him. He was asleep before his lips left Pippin's skin.
Author: Catherine
Pairing: M/P
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Slash; Some angst; h/c;
Disclaimer: The characters and settings are the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and belong to his estate, heirs and assigns, as well as various movie studios and bigwigs, including the various Saul Zaentz companies, New Line Studios and Wingnut Productions. The order of the words contained herein is mine. I make no money doing this, and no disrespect is intended.
A/N: Written for
danachan, as part of the lotr_sesa challenge, who requested a before and after story. I hope you like it, Dana.Feedback: Sure! I'll just put myself right in front of that big ol' troll when you tell it where to walk!
Buckland
Merry sat in his favourite orchard, cuddling his favourite hobbit, with his back pressed up against his favourite tree. It was an ancient apple tree, with a thick, gnarly trunk that curved perfectly to suit his back and a beautiful arch of branches and leaves to shade them from the summer sun. When he was a child, it had produced the tastiest apples: green with a faint blush of peach, with a taste of perfume and sunshine perfectly blended with honey and oranges, more perfectly crisp and fresh than any other taste in the Shire. Now, its fruit was less sweet, suiting itself best for the cider press. But to Merry, it was still the most beautiful tree on his father's vast estate, and he could often be found here when he wanted to read a book, contemplate the world, or gaze into the eyes of his beloved Pippin. Which is what he really wanted to be doing now, but Pippin was snoring very loudly on his chest, rather spoiling the mood, in the older cousin's opinion.
Merry shifted his weight a bit at a particularly loud snore. “Pippin!” he said, with a mixture of fondness and irritability.
“Hhm! What?” Startled green eyes snapped open as Pippin's head shot up. “Oh, Merry-love,” smiled Pippin, his face softening in a sleepy, silly way as his grin overtook it. He closed his eyes and snuggled down into Merry's neck, kissing his shoulder, fondly. “You're so comfortable, my Merry.” He nuzzled in close and wrapped himself comfortably around Merry as he settled in to sleep.
Merry couldn't help but wrap his arm tighter about his cousin's shoulders, kissing the crown of his head and letting the warmth of the day and of the emotions soothe some of his frustration. However, he couldn't just let Pippin fall asleep on him. Again. For the fourth time today. “Pippin,” he said softly. “Pip-love, why are you so sleepy today?”
“Hmm?” Pippin was startled out of the beginnings of sleep. “What, Merry?”
“Why are you so sleepy, love? You've not been able to keep your eyes open all day, much to my dismay. Why so tired?”
“Oh. I couldn't sleep last night,” said Pippin, yawning.
“Why not?”
“Well, you weren't there, of course, and I was so anxious to see you again, and so looking forward to coming here, and then when I finally fell asleep...” He trailed off, quietly.
“What, love?” prompted Merry, gently.
“I dreamed that you were in pain and always having nightmares and screaming for me and I couldn't move, couldn't respond. And then...” Pippin swallowed.
“And then?” asked Merry, not entirely sure he wanted to hear more.
Pippin fidgeted with the buttons on Merry's waistcoat. “Oh, no, Merry, it's just too silly! Just a really bad dream, is all.” He looked studiously at the buttons before leaning down quickly to kiss the V of skin just below Merry's throat.
“It must have been awfully bad to upset you this much, Pip,” said Merry, drawing his arm more tightly around his cousin. “You remember what they told us when we were children? About telling your dream so that you will never dream it again?”
Pippin swallowed, looking troubled. “They did tell us that, didn't they?” he mused. He sat up, disentangling himself from Merry and leaning back against the tree. Merry reached to encircle his shoulders, but held back at the look Pippin gave him.
Pippin took a deep breath. “Well, all of a sudden everything went dark. Everything, Merry. Even the very air went black. And you went black, Merry. I couldn't see you, but I couldn't even feel you. And I knew... I knew that the darkness had devoured you,” his voice had dropped low, filled with pain. “You were lost to me, forever, and I was screaming for you, and then something so heavy was on me, and I couldn't scream anymore, and I couldn't breathe, and even my heart couldn't beat anymore. I was so afraid,” he whispered, a tear escaping his eye. He shuddered and pulled himself together, swiping savagely at his face. “And then, I woke up and found myself all wound up in the sheets, and I really was having trouble breathing, after all,” he said in a tone of forced levity. He quickly dropped that demeanour, though, and his voice dropped to a murmur. “I couldn't sleep at all after that. There was no-one to talk to. It all seemed so real. And... I couldn't feel you, Merry. Even when I woke up.” He could not stop the tears now, and he looked away. “You were lost to me until I saw you today.”
Merry ached for Pippin as he watched him struggle with the memory of the nightmare. Of the two of them, Merry was the one far more likely to have the terrifying dreams come to him in the darkest hours. He was accustomed to waking up trembling, to having to soothe himself enough to get back to sleep. He usually kept these dreams away from Pippin, though it was certainly good to have him there when they occurred. That way he could ground himself in Pippin's scent, his warmth, the touch of his body as he curled around it, pressing close to quell the shivers running through his own. Pippin almost never had really bad dreams, and this sounded like the worst he had ever encountered.
At Pippin's last words, Merry drew his arms around him, even as he felt him tense. “Pippin, love, please come here. Here we are, in the light of a beautiful afternoon, sitting against my favourite tree. All I need to make my day complete is my favourite Hobbit in my arms until the end of time. Or maybe teatime. Or until my bum gets sore.”
Pippin laughed, despite himself, and relaxed a little, allowing Merry to draw him in. “Can't have your bum getting sore. It's such a nice bum... Merry...” He stole his arms around Merry and buried his face in his neck, weeping softly. “Merry, my Merry.”
“Pippin,” murmured Merry, pulling him in as close as he could, tears pricking hard at his own eyes. He kissed Pippin's head, running his hand through his hair, pressing small circles into his scalp. “Feel me, Pippin. I'm with you, love.” He slid further down, drawing Pippin with him, folding him closer.
“I feel you, my Merry.” He slipped his hand into Merry's shirt, caressing his chest and shoulder, kissing his jaw. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.” He kissed Pippin, tentatively.
Pippin leaned into Merry's mouth, tracing the outline of his lips before slipping in to entangle himself with his lover, making contact with every corner, reassuring himself. “Merry,” he said, breaking the kiss gently. He caressed Merry's face, tracing his jaw with his fingers. “Merry-love,” he smiled, kissing him again, fondly. “I want to make love to you for such a long time, and in so many ways. I'm just so tired right now, nothing's thinking straight!” Merry chuckled at that. Pippin yawned, wrapping his hand around the back of Merry's head and tangling his fingers in his hair. He pressed his forehead to Merry's. “Thank you, Merry,” he murmured.
Merry leaned into Pippin's forehead, gently soothing his scalp with fingers built for this touch. “You're welcome, love.” He kissed Pippin tenderly and pulled him down to lie once again on his chest. “Sleep now, Pip. I'm not going to let you sleep too much tonight, so you'd best do it whilst you can!”
“Mmmm!” Pippin smiled. “Sounds like a much better night than the last one!” He pressed a secret kiss to the base of Merry's throat. He was asleep before his lips left Merry's skin.
Merry held Pippin close. He gazed out over the hills, thinking about the journey they'd be beginning soon, and wondering if Frodo was dreaming about it, as well.
Ithilien
Merry sat by the cot in the tent in Ithilien, holding the least injured hand available to him. “And then we seized all the mushrooms we could before the dogs got to us and we ran like blazes straight up that tree! Do you remember the looks on their faces as we pelted them with the apples, Pip? How they finally turned and ran away? We may have lost the apples, but we saved all the mushrooms. Best mushroom stew we ever had, wasn't it?”
The figure on the bed was silent, almost gone. His breathing was faint and laboured. They had barely found him in time, and his ribs had been crushed under the weight of the troll. Merry had been talking to him for hours, holding his hand, refusing to leave for anything other than to relieve himself. He was exhausted, his voice hoarse, and his hand hurt horribly. Aragorn had said that Pippin had a chance, but that was far from the certainty that Merry sought.
As he looked at Pippin, Merry began to falter. “Pippin,” he rasped, “Pip, love, please, please come back to me. If you die, I think I probably will, too. I'm so tired, Pip. I don't sleep anymore. There are the dreams and... and I can't close my eyes and risk never seeing you again. I love you so much, my Pippin. Please, love, please come back to me. Pippin!” he sobbed, tears falling now, unstoppable from his drained, reddened eyes. He bent his head over Pippin's hand and kissed it, long and tenderly. “Ah, Pip-love, please.” he begged, caressing the fingers so carefully in his own. “Pippin! Pippin, Pip...” he trailed off in tears that overtook him and choked off his speech. “My Pippin!” He bowed his head over Pippin's hand and wept, long and hard.
Merry wept until he had no tears left, and then wept more; dry, wracking sobs that left him empty of all but pain. And then he wept beyond that until not even the pain was left to keep him company. With the clarity that comes only when one has survived the soul's death, Merry knew that Pippin would not wake then. He knew that this was his last goodbye. He pressed Pippin's hand between both his own. “My very dearest Pippin. I am so sorry that your nightmare came to pass. I am so sorry that I could not save you from it. I love you, Peregrin Took, to the end of days. I will go with you. Wait for me, sweetheart.” With that, he rose to kiss Pippin's brow in farewell. “My Pippin!” he sobbed in a cracked whisper, new tears wrenching themselves painfully from his eyes. He sat back down in the chair he had occupied for the last three sleepless days, put his head down on the coverlet near Pippin and lost consciousness.
Merry awoke some time later, his head aching. As he came to himself, he found that he was lying in a bed in a tent. A rush of horror and loss came over him as he realised that Pippin must no longer be with him, and he curled onto his side and wept. “Oh, Pippin!” he sobbed in a whisper. He shook too much to notice the shift and rustle of the bedding behind him.
“Merry,” said a faint voice behind him.
“Oh, Pip. I'm already dreaming of you, sweetheart.” He wept harder.
“Merry-mine,” said the voice, a little stronger. “Please turn and look at me, love. I can't touch you from here.”
“I know you can't, my dearest one. I'm still here and you're... over there.” He remained curled into himself, weeping.
“Merry-love,” the voice chuckled with a hitch, “That's rather the point of what I'm trying to say, isn't it?” The chuckle faded. “Please turn over, sweetheart. I need you to look at me.”
Merry shook his head and whimpered.
“Meriadoc Brandybuck, I'm not bloody dead yet!” the voice wheezed in angry pain. “Now turn around and look at me, dearest,” it pleaded, much more faintly. “Please, Merry. I hurt so much.”
Merry turned over at that, and found himself gazing into two moist, green eyes in the midst of a smiling, wincing, tear-stained face. Shocked, Merry could not stop staring at this sight he had thought never again to see in Middle-earth. “Pippin?” He reached a shaking hand to touch his face. “Pip, sweetheart!” He trembled all over at the feel of Pippin's cheek under his hand. “You're alive! You're with me!”
“That's what I've been trying to tell you, you stubborn, addle-pated Brandybuck,” smiled Pippin. He winced. “Merry-love, I'm not supposed to be on my side like this. Help me, please.”
Merry instantly sat up, and realised just as fast how bad an idea that was when his head made its presence very keenly felt. “Ohh,” he moaned, gathering himself as quickly as he could. He leaned over, wrapping his arm carefully around Pippin's shoulders to help him lie back down. It was the weight of him in his arm like this that convinced Merry that his Pippin was still with him. “Oh, Pip!” he said, caressing the beloved face with his hand. He did not try to hide his tears, or his smile.
“Merry,” said Pippin, now able to reach his less injured hand to touch Merry's face. “Please kiss me, Merry-mine. I've missed you so much!”
Merry leaned down and kissed Pippin as deeply as he dared, re-learning old contours and patterns, dearly loving the feel of Pippin's soft lips responding just as passionately to his own.
Pippin broke the kiss, panting with exertion and emotion. “Oh, Merry! It's been so long, and now I have to wait a donkey's age before I can do any more with you than kiss you.”
Merry cradled Pippin in his arms as much as his broken bones and bandages would permit. “Pippin! I thought I'd never see you again when I fell asleep. But how can you be so much better after only a few hours?”
Pippin rasped out a laugh. “Merry, hobbit of my heart, you've been unconscious for three days, love! I know, because I've been here the whole time.”
“Three days! But how? And when did you wake up?
“I woke up just as your face landed near me and you fainted,” said Pippin, his voice now low. “I'd heard you screaming for me, Merry. At least, it seemed like a scream from where I was. And then I heard you saying how sorry you were that my nightmare had come true, and I wanted so, so much to tell you that it hadn't entirely, that you had not faded or gone black, that I could still feel you; that I could feel you as you were under the tree that day back in the Shire, right before we left. But I couldn't reach you, sweetheart, and I heard you crying out for me, and... and then I heard you saying goodbye,” he choked.
Merry kissed his lover, gently, his tears falling on Pippin's cheeks. “Pippin, my love. I won't ever leave you again.”
Pippin smiled, tracing Merry's cheekbone. “Neither will I, love. That's why you're here. They wanted to put you in a separate bed, but I kept screaming, and they feared I'd die, so they put you in bed with me.” He drew Merry down for another kiss. “But Merry-love, I'm not the only one who needs care, you know. They said you hadn't eaten or drunk anything, or slept for three days, and that's what made you faint. And that was on top of your own injuries, which are serious, Merry. So I'm under strict orders to see to your health, as best I can, which really means that I am to do whatever I can to keep you calm and rested, to keep you right here in this bed.” He kissed him again. Gingerly, he moved his less injured arm around Merry and settled him very carefully down so that his head was cradled on Pippin's shoulder. “Sleep now, love. Take all the rest and sleep that you can while it's offered you.”
“My Pippin,” Merry said, kissing him. He was asleep before his lips left Pippin's skin.
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Date: 2004-12-25 07:39 pm (UTC)This made me smile, and made me giggle, and then it made me whimper, because my poor, poor hobbits, all hurt and ow ow ow. *clutches them close, but gently*
Thank you for this, Catherine. *happy sigh* Thank you.
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Date: 2004-12-25 08:30 pm (UTC)May you have the happiest of days, no matter what you are celebrating, and thank you so much for your kind remarks!
Catherine
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Date: 2004-12-26 01:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-26 02:46 pm (UTC)Catherine
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Date: 2004-12-27 11:32 am (UTC)