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lotr_sesaMerry Christmas, Shirasade! Here's your present. I hope you like it. :D Thanks so much for organizing this challenge once again.
Title: A Kiss
Pairing: Merry/Pippin
Rating: G
Summary: Wintery memories and that one kiss.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JRRT, not me. I make no profit.
Whenever Merry saw children tobogganing down one of the hills of Tuckborough, he thought of young Pippin -- a little boy in his green scarf, looking at Merry with wide eyes and grinning just before that one kiss. It had been Pippin's idea, or at least that is how Merry liked to remember it. Pippin had been dragging his toboggan up the hill, sometimes ankle-deep in the snow, and he had complained about how cold it was.
"Yesterday, when my father came home and said his hands were cold, my mother took his hands and rubbed them like this," Pippin had said, and he had shown Merry by rubbing his hands together, "and then he kissed her."
Merry hadn't paid much attention to that at first, because it had only been Pippin talking about one thing or another, depending on where his mind had happened to be, but then Pippin had stopped, mid-hill, and turned around.
"I wonder what it feels like," he had said, frowning.
"Kissing?" Merry had asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes," Pippin had replied. He had walked over to Merry and stopped only a foot away from him -- a little boy almost two inches shorter than Merry, his hair a bunch of curls. "Can we try it?" Pippin had asked, and Merry had thought he looked silly when he had closed his eyes, opened his mouth a little and then stuck out the tip of his tongue. Merry had started laughing at the sight.
"What?" Pippin had asked, opening his eyes and looking at him seriously, his expression that of someone who had been greatly offended.
"Nothing," Merry had said, and he had forced himself to stop laughing. "I think we can."
Pippin, who had been grinning again like nothing had come to ruin his plan, had closed his eyes. This time he had only waited with his lips closed. Merry had leaned towards him and pressed his lips against Pippin's. They lips had been cold and the kiss had felt strange, not at all the way a kiss should have felt, but something about it had also felt right. Before it had even begun, Pippin had pulled away, his eyes still closed.
"That felt odd," he had said, but he hadn't seemed to mind. He had opened his eyes. "Maybe we should do it again."
After saying that, Pippin had grabbed his toboggan again and continued climbing. Merry had stood there, looking after Pippin's retreating back. He had a feeling Pippin might have been right. Maybe they should do it again.
* * *
"You were not a very good kisser back then," Merry said, sitting in a rocking chair and holding a pipe in his hand. He had a pile of papers on his lap. Pippin was standing by a long bookcase, reaching up at the upper shelves, and he pulled down what looked like a half-finished book.
"I was eighteen!" he said, laughing. "I was not good at anything."
For a moment they simply smiled at each other, and Merry took a drag on the pipe. It tasted nice and familiar and it relaxed him. Not that there was anything he needed the relaxation for when he was around Pippin, but it had become a habit. Just like visiting Pippin had become. Pippin opened the book and went through some of the papers there, then walked to Merry.
"I'll put them here for now," he said, and Merry gave him the papers he had brought specifically for Pippin's library. "We can take a better look at them later."
Merry nodded and looked at the rest of the shelves, some of them filled with books, some of them still empty. There were several books there, of all shapes and sizes, and he knew that they were there because of Pippin's persistence. Not one of them was written by him personally, but in a way they were still all his books.
Merry enjoyed bringing him material, telling him about the stories behind stories, the short and long tales he had heard during his travels. Pippin had always listened to him with interest, stopping him every now and then to ask him questions about something he feared he hadn't quite understood.
"I got better in the end, didn't I?" Pippin asked, and Merry turned to look at him. He didn't look like a little boy anymore, but he still had a green scarf. Not the one from his childhood, of course, but another one. It kept him warm during winters, he said, and he simply liked the colour green.
"You did," Merry said, smiling at him, remembering just how good Pippin had become.
"Come," Pippin then said, walking towards the door. "Let's go out."
Merry followed him, and they walked through the corridors until they arrived at the door leading outside. Pippin opened it, and they were greeted by the cold winter air.
"Let's go look at the children," Pippin said. "I bet we can still teach them tricks they have never even heard of."
Merry had always been up for anything Pippin came up with, and this was no exception. He didn't have his own toboggan anymore, because he thought he may have been a little too old for it, but he knew that Pippin's son, the little rascal Faramir, would take good care of it.
Together, side by side, they walked through the snow, and every now and then Pippin's scarf touched Merry's hand. After a while, Merry grabbed Pippin's hand and Pippin, without even casting a glance in his direction, took the hand and pressed it lightly.
Further away, they heard the children laughing and screaming. When Merry saw Faramir pulling the old toboggan behind him, he remembered little Peregrin Took asking for a kiss. Yet, most of all, he remembered the little boy's cold lips against his. It had been a nice kiss, Merry thought. One of the nicest kisses he had ever had, even when there had been several kisses after that one, all of them quite nice.
--the end--
Title: A Kiss
Pairing: Merry/Pippin
Rating: G
Summary: Wintery memories and that one kiss.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JRRT, not me. I make no profit.
Whenever Merry saw children tobogganing down one of the hills of Tuckborough, he thought of young Pippin -- a little boy in his green scarf, looking at Merry with wide eyes and grinning just before that one kiss. It had been Pippin's idea, or at least that is how Merry liked to remember it. Pippin had been dragging his toboggan up the hill, sometimes ankle-deep in the snow, and he had complained about how cold it was.
"Yesterday, when my father came home and said his hands were cold, my mother took his hands and rubbed them like this," Pippin had said, and he had shown Merry by rubbing his hands together, "and then he kissed her."
Merry hadn't paid much attention to that at first, because it had only been Pippin talking about one thing or another, depending on where his mind had happened to be, but then Pippin had stopped, mid-hill, and turned around.
"I wonder what it feels like," he had said, frowning.
"Kissing?" Merry had asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes," Pippin had replied. He had walked over to Merry and stopped only a foot away from him -- a little boy almost two inches shorter than Merry, his hair a bunch of curls. "Can we try it?" Pippin had asked, and Merry had thought he looked silly when he had closed his eyes, opened his mouth a little and then stuck out the tip of his tongue. Merry had started laughing at the sight.
"What?" Pippin had asked, opening his eyes and looking at him seriously, his expression that of someone who had been greatly offended.
"Nothing," Merry had said, and he had forced himself to stop laughing. "I think we can."
Pippin, who had been grinning again like nothing had come to ruin his plan, had closed his eyes. This time he had only waited with his lips closed. Merry had leaned towards him and pressed his lips against Pippin's. They lips had been cold and the kiss had felt strange, not at all the way a kiss should have felt, but something about it had also felt right. Before it had even begun, Pippin had pulled away, his eyes still closed.
"That felt odd," he had said, but he hadn't seemed to mind. He had opened his eyes. "Maybe we should do it again."
After saying that, Pippin had grabbed his toboggan again and continued climbing. Merry had stood there, looking after Pippin's retreating back. He had a feeling Pippin might have been right. Maybe they should do it again.
"You were not a very good kisser back then," Merry said, sitting in a rocking chair and holding a pipe in his hand. He had a pile of papers on his lap. Pippin was standing by a long bookcase, reaching up at the upper shelves, and he pulled down what looked like a half-finished book.
"I was eighteen!" he said, laughing. "I was not good at anything."
For a moment they simply smiled at each other, and Merry took a drag on the pipe. It tasted nice and familiar and it relaxed him. Not that there was anything he needed the relaxation for when he was around Pippin, but it had become a habit. Just like visiting Pippin had become. Pippin opened the book and went through some of the papers there, then walked to Merry.
"I'll put them here for now," he said, and Merry gave him the papers he had brought specifically for Pippin's library. "We can take a better look at them later."
Merry nodded and looked at the rest of the shelves, some of them filled with books, some of them still empty. There were several books there, of all shapes and sizes, and he knew that they were there because of Pippin's persistence. Not one of them was written by him personally, but in a way they were still all his books.
Merry enjoyed bringing him material, telling him about the stories behind stories, the short and long tales he had heard during his travels. Pippin had always listened to him with interest, stopping him every now and then to ask him questions about something he feared he hadn't quite understood.
"I got better in the end, didn't I?" Pippin asked, and Merry turned to look at him. He didn't look like a little boy anymore, but he still had a green scarf. Not the one from his childhood, of course, but another one. It kept him warm during winters, he said, and he simply liked the colour green.
"You did," Merry said, smiling at him, remembering just how good Pippin had become.
"Come," Pippin then said, walking towards the door. "Let's go out."
Merry followed him, and they walked through the corridors until they arrived at the door leading outside. Pippin opened it, and they were greeted by the cold winter air.
"Let's go look at the children," Pippin said. "I bet we can still teach them tricks they have never even heard of."
Merry had always been up for anything Pippin came up with, and this was no exception. He didn't have his own toboggan anymore, because he thought he may have been a little too old for it, but he knew that Pippin's son, the little rascal Faramir, would take good care of it.
Together, side by side, they walked through the snow, and every now and then Pippin's scarf touched Merry's hand. After a while, Merry grabbed Pippin's hand and Pippin, without even casting a glance in his direction, took the hand and pressed it lightly.
Further away, they heard the children laughing and screaming. When Merry saw Faramir pulling the old toboggan behind him, he remembered little Peregrin Took asking for a kiss. Yet, most of all, he remembered the little boy's cold lips against his. It had been a nice kiss, Merry thought. One of the nicest kisses he had ever had, even when there had been several kisses after that one, all of them quite nice.
--the end--
no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 05:03 pm (UTC)And while I'm here, happy 2006!