Rain

Many thanks to Cara, MJ and Linilya for their generous beta.

"It's raining," Pippin stated unnecessarily, just managing to keep himself from laughing at Merry's expression.

"Yes, I had noticed that, Pip," was the curt reply. Merry frowned out at the persistent droplets from under the hood of his sodden cloak. What had he been thinking when he'd insisted on making this journey on foot?

"The inn is only a short walk that way." Pippin pointed for emphasis, scattering more water droplets with the gesture. Despite the weather he was in an overly cheery mood, much to his cousin's badly-concealed annoyance. "They serve a very nice shepherd's pie," he offered after another uncomfortable silence.

"With carrots?" Merry asked, tempted despite himself.

"And hot cider to drink, rather than ale," Pippin offered a bit too brightly.

Merry gave a little shudder. The hangover was gone, thankfully, but he still hadn't completely recovered from last night's overindulgence, and Pippin wasn't helping. Merry'd promised himself that they wouldn't stop at any inns on the way to Hobbiton, but he hadn't counted on a downpour. He'd actually entertained the foolish notion that it might be like the old days when he and Pippin had enjoyed trekking around the Shire and camping out under the stars. Yet another thing that was no longer the same.

"All right, Pip. Might as well see if they have any rooms for the night as well. We got a later start than I planned on and I don't fancy the idea of sleeping in the mud." He wrinkled his nose, remembering. "I think we both've had our fill of that."

"Yes!" Pippin enthused, almost giving Merry a hug before hurrying off. He set a brisk pace, and they covered the distance without getting too much wetter.

Inside, the inn was warm and filled with good smells and a fair-sized crowd. The comfortable smells and familiar sights made Merry feel better, easing some of the vague disquiet that had him so on edge.

"Master Peregrin, back so soon?" the innkeeper greeted them, pausing on his way to deliver a tankard of ale and plate of food. "Will you and Master Meriadoc be staying with us tonight?"

"Indeed, Master Chubb. Have you a room for two hungry, wet hobbits?"

"You're in luck, sirs. I've just one left, but it's a nice one. Last room down the hall on the left if you don't mind finding the way yourselves. My helper-lad is off visiting with his family and I've got my hands full."

"That you do," Pippin agreed, looking down at the plate and cup the hobbit was holding. With a chuckle, the innkeeper hurried off to serve his customer while the two wet hobbits went off in search of their room.

A cosy room with a large fireplace greeted them. It was a bit dampish without a fire, but Merry tended to that while Pippin took off his cloak and threw himself down on the bed.

"Nice and soft, Merry." Pippin said happily. "Let's get dried off and take a rest before supper." He yawned widely but showed no intention of moving.

"Come on, Pip," Merry laughed, feeling much better now that he was in out of the rain. He walked over and took his cousin's hand, pulling him to his feet. "Get out of those wet things before you fall asleep." He casually unfastened Pippin's livery and eased it off, frowning at the feel of his chilled skin. "You're cold."

"Just a little, Merry. I bet you are too." Pippin reached over and mirrored his cousin's actions, unfastening Merry's clothing. Tossing the damp garments aside, Pippin couldn't resist the urge to feather his fingers against Merry's ribs, laughing when he shivered from the contact. "See."

"Brat," Merry responded pushing him back onto the bed, then snatching up a towel from the wash stand and tossing it at him. "Dry your feet. I don't want to sleep in a wet bed."

"You're so worried about it, you do it." Pip tossed the towel back, then wriggled out of his breeches before burrowing under the covers. He watched Merry dig through his pack for a nightshirt, smiling at the sight of his cousin clad in nothing but his unders. "Don't know why you insist on sleeping in clothes, Merry. It's much nicer without."

"Not if you've caught a chill." He tossed the soft garment at Pip. "Good thing I brought a spare. Put that on until you warm up."

"But I am warm," he insisted stubbornly, scooting over to the center of the bed and stretching his arms wide to take up the whole space. He waited until Merry pulled on the nightshirt before sticking out his tongue in a show of defiance.

"You need to be taught a lesson, Master Took." Merry grabbed the edge of the bedding and whisked it off, leaving Pippin shivering at the center of the bed, covered only by his unders. With much laughter he wrestled the younger hobbit into the nightshirt, managing all but one arm. The sight was quite ridiculous, and started them both laughing again.

"Told you clothes were a bother," Pippin said, flopping back onto the bed without fixing the muddle.

"However did you get to be this age without being able to dress yourself?" Merry mused, making one last effort to get his cousin properly clothed. Finally satisfied, he reclaimed the tossed aside coverings and spread them out over the two of them.

Immediately Pippin turned onto his side and pressed his back against Merry's side. It was his favorite way to sleep when they shared a bed and Pippin relaxed into the comfortable familiarity of it. All thoughts drifted away and he slipped into a restful sleep, lulled by the older hobbit's even breathing.

***********************************

He woke with Merry's arms around him, their bodies pressed together warmly. It felt lovely and peaceful, too nice to spoil by moving. Instead, Pippin let his thoughts wander, idly wondering how long it had been since he had slept so restfully.

Behind him Merry made a whimpering sound in his throat and tightened his hold. His hands twitched restlessly and his breathing quickened.

Turning carefully, Pippin reached up and gently caressed Merry's face, trying to soothe away the frown there. Merry's skin felt too warm, and there was a faint sheen of moisture on his cheek.

"Wake up, cousin." Pippin said it softly, hoping to break Merry out of his dreams gently. He'd been forced to wake him more urgently in the past, when dark images trapped him and Pippin had been afraid that Merry would hurt himself. There were long nights in recent memory that Pippin would have given almost anything to erase.

Another whimper, followed by a moan, and Merry turned too quickly away, tangling himself in the bedding and almost taking Pippin with him.

Trying not to startle him, Pip moved slowly, but only managed to get himself twisted up in the nightshirt. With a muttered curse, he rose to his knees and yanked the offending garment off, tossing it to the floor before throwing aside the bedding and kneeling over Merry. He used his body to confine his cousin's movements while reaching out for an edge of the coverings, cocooning the two of them and whispering reassurances.

After a long moments, Merry's thrashing ceased and he settled into more restful slumber without ever having fully wakened. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pip slid off to one side, curling up close against his cousin, letting his hand rest flat over Merry's heart. He counted the heartbeats, relaxing as they slowed.

He was unaware of the tears until one slid across Merry's face and dripped on him. Gently Pippin wiped it away. It made him hurt deep in his chest to see Merry cry. It was worse that it only happened when Merry was sleeping. When had they started hiding so much from each other?

It had been a long time since Merry had allowed himself to cry in front of anyone. Not since Rivendell, if Pippin remembered correctly.

They had been sharing a bed then as they were now, and Merry had been sleeping restlessly. He started crying out in his sleep, thrashing around wildly, resisting all of Pippin's frightened efforts to calm him. When his fist connected with Pippin's cheek, the younger hobbit had fallen, dazed, straight down onto Merry. The contact jolted the older hobbit awake.

The shock of the dreams and the sight of dear Pippin injured by his hand proved too much for Merry. He had retreated to a corner, keening, inconsolable for hours. Pippin had carried the bruise for days and in all that time Merry refused to look at him or allow him to come close. It had taken gentle persistence from Frodo and Sam as well as stronger words from Gandalf before Merry would allow Pippin near him again.

Even then things were wrong between them, until Merry woke one night to the sight of Pippin sitting on the floor beside the bed, refusing to sleep until Merry allowed him into their bed.

Soft sounds woke Pippin early that morning, dawn casting golden light into the room. Merry was beside him, sitting up in bed, arms wrapped around himself and his face turned up to the ceiling as tears tracked unheeded across his face and down his neck. His chest hitched with the effort to stifle his sobs.

Pippin remembered the feel of those tears as he reached up and wiped them away, one by one, following his fingers with his mouth, working upward until he was kneeling, looking down into Merry's anguished face.

The kiss was bittersweet, and he took his time tasting it. He made promises with his fingers and mouth and body then, as true as any words he'd ever spoken. And, oh, but Merry had accepted, and made promises in return.

From that day until now Pippin had tried to keep those vows. He just hadn't realized how hard it would be; how much it would hurt to come home. How being back in the Shire would drive them apart, isolating them from family, friends and even each other as they struggled to reconcile their experiences in the war with the realities of a place and people that didn't want to understand.

It wasn't so much his own family that bothered him; he'd been in trouble with one lot or the other of them all his life. But Merry... It hurt Pippin to see how hard it was for the Brandybucks to accept their son back into the Hall, and their lives. Like his own family, they just wanted Merry to be the same hobbit lad they knew before he went off on his "little adventure" and couldn't understand why he had changed.

Pippin wouldn't wish his and Merry's hard-won knowledge on any of then, but sometimes he wanted to shake someone, to make them understand that things would never be the same. *They* would never be the same.

Pippin rested his head against Merry's arm and closed his eyes. His body was heavy and he felt old and frail.

His thoughts touched on Frodo and Sam for a moment before shying away. He didn't want to think of them suffering as he and Merry did, for he knew their horrors would be more terrible than even the grip of the palantir.

Uneasily he shifted, trying to will away the tightness in his chest. If only... he tried not to finish the thought, knowing it was selfish. Oh, but he did wish it...

"Pippin?"

Merry was watching him, looking as if he knew, and feared, what his cousin desired.

"I didn't hurt you?" he asked in a raspy voice, his eyes not quite meeting Pip's. "I was dreaming..."

"Never, Merry." Pippin tried to reassure him, sitting up, his eyes catching and holding his cousin's gaze at last.

"We should go to supper," Merry suggested, breaking eye contact by turning onto his side before sitting up.

"Yes, food!" Pippin said happily, pushing aside his sadness for both their sakes. He was good at the act, having done it so often lately. Sometimes he even fooled himself.

He retreated to words, not letting his hands touch as they wanted to. It was too risky to give in - to allow himself to react with his body when Merry was awake. No, he would help Merry with his words, not his touch, no matter how he wished otherwise. He could trust his words, control them, but his body could not be trusted, it could reveal his deepest desires, and betray them both.

They dressed quickly, choosing their damp finery of Minis Tirith and Rohan rather than Shire cottons and brocades. Tomorrow they would have to wear the proper hobbit clothing they brought, knowing that Frodo and Sam preferred it. But tonight they could take refuge in their usual attire.

***********************************

The main room of the inn was loud and lively, full of good smells and laughter. Merry and Pippin smiled as they wound their way through the room, exchanging greetings and jokes with the other patrons as easily as if it were a well-practiced routine. Finally seated at a small table in the corner, they gratefully accepted heaping plates of shepherd's pie and mugs of cider.

The time passed pleasantly enough and they were comfortably full when they returned to their room. Not quite ready to sleep, they settled into the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace and had a smoke.

"Merry?" Pippin asked tentatively, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the fire. "Do you... I mean ..." He shrugged and stopped talking, unable to finish.

"What is it, Pip?" Merry leaned over and placed his hand on Pippin's arm.

Pippin's eyes focused on him, intense. "Why won't you tell me about your dreams?" The question was quietly spoken, but there was urgency in his eyes, the clench of his jaw, every line in his body taut with need.

Merry's mouth fell open and he made a helpless sound. As always, words left him. Everything he needed and wanted to say evaporated and he was left speechless. When had talking to Pippin become so difficult?

"Is it Rivendell, Merry? Are you afraid you'll hurt me? Because I can tell you that this hurts much more than a bruised face." Pippin pressed a hand to his chest over his heart. "Right here."

Merry slid out of the chair down to his knees on the floor beside Pippin's chair. He placed his hand over Pip's, hoping that touch would speak where words failed.

"Please," Pippin begged. "Tell me."

"I can't." Merry almost shouted it, turning his face away in shame. "I can't," he repeated softly. "It will do no good to remember them."

"It's too late to protect me, Merry. Don't you see that?" Pippin leaned forward, deliberately choosing words that would make Merry react. "My innocence is gone. You can not buy it back with your suffering." He leaned forward, his lips close, so close to Merry's ear. "I do not want any more of your tears."

Merry looked up sharply, but Pippin stopped the words with a kiss, unable to resist the urge despite his resolve. When he pulled away again, his eyes were dark with sorrow. How this contact pained him, made him desperate for the intimacy they had lost. Instead, he retreated to words, no longer sure if he was trying to convince Merry or himself.

"I know you cry at night, Merry. You shed tears for me because you think that I can not." He brushed his hand lightly over Merry's cheek, down to his lips and chin, trying to pretend his hand wasn't shaking. "You're wrong."

He rose abruptly, looking deep in Merry's eyes as he captured his hand and urged him to stand. Pippin willed him to understand.

"I once told you that heroes do not cry. You missed my point, dearest Merry. I am not a hero. I am a simple hobbit. I do not want to be worshiped, nor do I want to be pitied." He moved towards the bed, leading Merry. "Or protected." His voice broke and he looked away, no longer able to hold Merry's gaze. For just a moment, words failed him and he was left with no way to communicate, all his needs and desires bottled up in his chest until he thought he might faint.

He sat on the bed and pulled Merry down beside him, finding courage in their closeness. "You are not responsible for me, Meriadoc Brandybuck; you have burdens enough. I am strong enough to shoulder my own responsibilities." He leaned closer to Merry, wanting to kiss him again. "All I want from you is your love, however you wish to give it."

Merry pulled away, rising to his feet unsteadily and walking a few steps away. His back was rigid and Pippin feared that he had somehow driven him away.

After a painful eternity, Merry turned around again, eyes shadowed. He moved slowly back towards the bed, his hands shaking.

"You have my love, Pippin. As you always did. But what you ask is not so easily granted; I have watched over you since you were born. I can not set that aside nor am I sure I want to." He shook his head ruefully. "Any more than you could stop trying to protect and care for me."

The truth hung between them, mocking them. How hard they tried to fit back into their old lives, to pretend that nothing was different when in fact everything had changed. How they had shut each other out to protect each other from pain, only managing to cause pain instead.

Merry reached out slowly, sighing when Pippin accepted the embrace. "For your sake I will try. But you must promise me something as well..." Merry took a deep breath. "You must not hide your pain, Pippin. It will not injure me to talk of what happened, and it might bring some small measure of comfort to us both."

A hitching intake of breath shook Pippin, and when Merry leaned back to look in his eyes he was startled to see them glittering with unshed tears.

"Let them fall, Pippin. Please."

A small sound of surrender, and the first tear spilled over, moving slowly down his face, to be followed by another, racing with the one on his other cheek. "For both of us," Pippin whispered, his body trembling as he struggled against the desire to conceal his sorrow. His hand found Merry's and he held it tight as he lowered his defenses at last.

Merry watched Pippin's face contort, sensing his struggle, and his own vision blurred in sympathy. For his cousin's sake Merry mustered his own courage. Gathering Pip securely in his arms Merry allowed his grief free reign.