december 2003
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'It is best to love first what you are fitted to love, I suppose: you must
start somewhere and have some roots, and the soil of the Shire is deep.'
Both dawn and Gandalf found Pippin in the Houses of Healing, slumped over in his sleep. He'd draped himself over his cousin's bed and held his hand tightly in his own. The grey wizard, smiling patiently, roused the young hobbit and sent him to their lodgings with a chuckle and instructions to rest.
'You must not exhaust yourself, Master Peregrin,' Gandalf said kindly, giving him a small pat on the back. 'Save your energy for when our dear Meriadoc awakens.'
But Pippin couldn't sleep. He stumbled along the cobbled roads, his strength and mind totally drained. The last few days had been a series of one horrifying event after another, and he felt lightheaded and confused. He desperately wanted to simply sit down somewhere quiet and come to grips with what had happened, but he could not think of anything else but Merry.
The hobbit bowed his head and clenched his hand into a fist. He had held Merry's hand only minutes ago, and it had hung cold and limp in his grasp. He did not want to think of his cousin as he lay silent, covered by white sheets that matched the pallor of his skin. He wanted only to return to the good days of the Shire, to those peaceful days untainted by war and strife and loss.
But no one could turn back time. Not even Gandalf.
Pippin's feet took him past the gates of Minas Tirith and onto the Pelennor Fields on which King Théoden of Rohan had said his last words. A breeze swept by his back, still armored in the black and silver of Gondor, and he turned to the right. There was the spot where he had found Merry, wounded and alone—and the first time he'd felt this pain in his heart since leaving the Shire.
Merry. His Merry. His brave, sweet, fearless Merry.
He was alive, of course; Gandalf had reassured Pippin several times that his beloved cousin would be all right. His illness would heal. Aragorn had seen to that, with his healer's hands and his light touch. But deep inside Pippin wondered if Merry would be the same when he woke up, with the same blue eyes and the same warm smile. Would his cousin even smile at all, with all the pain he'd been through?
Pippin felt something wet on his cheek and only now realized he was crying: crying for Merry, for Sam and for Frodo, and for all they had left behind. Closing his eyes, he wiped away his tears and tried to remember another time and place that seemed so far away.
He saw Merry, feet dangling over the water of the Brandywine, hands moving lively and free across the air as he spoke. He remembered his cousin, eight years his senior, daring him to steal all kinds of marvellous fruit from old Farmer Cotton's orchard. And Merry had always laughed, no matter if they were discovered red-handed—'next time, Pip, we won't get caught,' he'd constantly joked, smiling at his cousin's guilty expression.
Afterwards they'd sit together in their usual tree, peering at their reflections in the sky-blue river. Sometimes they talked of their daring exploits, reliving their memories and laughing when the other hobbit exaggerated a bit too much. Sometimes Samwise would join them and they would talk of silly things like food and drink and of the adventures they might someday have (although never too far from the Shire for comfort). And sometimes Merry and Pippin did not talk of anything at all but simply savored the sweet taste of each other's lips.
But now both of them were hopelessly alone, and no amount of magic could heal the pain inside their hearts. No matter how much time passed after the war, things would never be the same between the two of them. They had each seen too much and felt too alone, and neither of them had been there to comfort the other. It had taken this separation for Pippin to realize how much he needed his cousin by his side to hold his hand and heal his failing spirit.
It always had been Merry protecting and watching over him. It was Merry who had first awakened the courage inside of Pippin's breast and taught him the meaning of brotherhood. For they were brothers: brothers, and friends, and lovers, and everything else in between.
Now it was Pippin's turn to take care of Merry, and he could not afford to fail.
