In which Pippin proves a quick study and Merry learns to be wary of mistletoe.
Brandy Hall, Buckland - Foreyule 1407
When, in later years, Merry looked back on the tumultuous year of 1408 (Shire Reckoning), it always seemed to him that the trouble had begun just before the New Year started, when the Tooks had arrived at Brandy Hall to spend the festive season with their Brandybuck relations. He blamed the mistletoe: mistletoe and tweens made a volatile mixture every year; mistletoe and Tooks made for mischief. When mistletoe was combined with an almost-tweenage Peregrin Took (precious, precocious Peregrin Took), it was hardly surprising that the result resembled spontaneous combustion. By the end of the second day of that Yule season Merry had made a mental note to forbid the hanging of mistletoe in Brandy Hall once he became Master - if he survived that long.
It was snowing heavily that day, 29 Foreyule, and all the teens and tweens were playing games in the back parlour or the corridors, while the adults held conversation in the Yellow Parlour. The whereabouts of the single spray of mistletoe permitted by the Master was currently unknown, and Merry was wary as he walked through the corridors, his thoughts turning towards Pippin.
When the Tooks had arrived the day before, Merry had been astonished to see how much Pippin had grown in the six months since they had seen each other last. As they hugged, he had found that Pippin was within an inch or so of his own height, and his shoulders were broader. The grin was still the same, though, and so was the wicked gleam in Pippin's eye as he gave Merry a smacking kiss on the lips - Merry had known then that it was going to be an interesting Yule.
Like most of the young hobbits, Pippin loved catching people under the mistletoe. Always affectionate, he had made a habit of it since he was a child, but over the last couple of years it seemed to Merry that Pippin had pursued him and one or two other favourite cousins more closely. Merry could certainly vouch for the fact that his kisses had become less innocent and more questioning - or was it just that his own responses were becoming stronger? Was he noticing Pippin's kisses more than the others? Pippin was growing up to be as handsome a young hobbit as the Shire had ever seen, and he was starting to attract looks that suggested he wouldn't lack for playmates once he reached his tweens.
Two years before, he remembered, someone (probably Pippin, though it might have been Mosco Burrows) had fixed the spray of mistletoe to the lintel of the back parlour, so that it couldn't be seen from the corridor, and those in the know had been waiting to pounce on unsuspecting entrants. Naturally, no one had told Merry, so the sudden onslaught of flying Took had caught him off guard. He had staggered with the impact, lost his balance, and fallen down, luckily landing on some cushions and a couple of Brandybuck cousins. Pippin had giggled and rolled Merry over the floor, stretching out full length on top of him before pressing his lips to Merry's, holding them there for as long as possible. The kiss had been long and sweet, and Merry had had to remind himself sternly of Pippin's age to stop himself from rolling them both over again and kissing him properly.
Treacherous memory: as Merry smiled to himself and closed his eyes briefly, he forgot to check for Tooks lying in wait. He turned the corner towards the back parlour and felt himself caught by a pair of strong arms and rolled against the wall. It was Pippin, of course, and Merry was reminded once more how just much Pippin had grown in the last year.
He looked up, wondering where Pippin had put the mistletoe - ah, there it was, attached to the lamp on the wall above his head.
Pippin smiled slyly. "Door lintels are too easy - everyone expects them now."
"Well, this was certainly unexpected." Merry smiled back. Pippin's eyes were almost level with his own. "I suppose you're hoping for a kiss."
"That was the general idea, yes."
"Who have you caught so far?"
"Only the ones I wanted." Pippin's voice was suddenly dark and husky, and there was nothing child-like about it at all.
Merry blinked and Pippin moved in for the kiss. Merry noted how the lips on his were more aware, more questioning, than they had been before, and they sought a response from him. It was a good kiss, Merry realised, one which sent warm tendrils down his belly and shivers down his spine. He was tempted to respond, but Pippin was still too young, and this was definitely no place to be caught by disapproving aunts.
He twisted away, trying to ignore his racing pulse and the sudden difficulty he had in breathing. "Enough! You're getting to be entirely too good at that, Pipsqueak."
"I need more practice."
Merry shivered at the thought. "No, not today."
"Why not?"
"New rule - only one mistletoe kiss allowed per day."
"That's not fair!"
"It doesn't have to be fair. It's my rule."
"Who said you could make up new rules?"
"I did."
"How come?"
"Well, firstly, this is Brandy Hall, which is my home, and, secondly, I'm older than you are."
"Does that mean that I get to make the rules at the Smials?"
"Not unless you can arrange to be older than me as well, Pipsqueak."
"That's not fair either!"
"No, it isn't. But that's how life is."
Further argument was avoided only because at that moment someone opened a door, and the draft that ran through the corridor carried the odour of baking.
"Ah! Gingerbread!" exclaimed Pippin. One glance at each other and they were racing for the kitchens, where Pippin, naturally, managed to cajole the cooks into giving them a gingerbread man each, which was more than Merry usually managed on his own.
Precocious Tooks did have their uses, after all.
* * *
It wasn't to be expected that one gingerbread man would have any appreciable effect on a young hobbit's appetite and they each ate a hearty afternoon tea, where plum cake and seed cake and scones and sandwiches and dainty biscuits all clamoured for attention.
Pippin was dragged away by Ilberic and Merry sat down with his Cousin Mentha, who had been unwell for most of the autumn and winter and was still weak. He liked her quiet ways and gentle smile, and he made a special effort to coax a giggle or two out of her. He caught sight of his mother's fond expression as she looked at them both, and smiled blandly back at her. It would be eight years until he came of age and longer still until he needed to look for a wife, and he wasn't going to let his mother or anyone else hurry him into marriage.
He turned his attention back to Mentha, but found himself increasingly distracted by the conversation taking place beyond her. Great-Aunt Asphodel (who was 95 and going deaf) and Cousin Hilda (who had been a Bracegirdle before she married, which explained a lot and excused nothing), were discussing the antecedents and characters of those hobbits who were present (and some who weren't), generally to their detriment. Such discussions were by no means uncommon, of course, in the densely-inhabited smial, but most hobbits had the sense, if not the courtesy, to hold them out of earshot of the Master's immediate family and in low, discreet, tones.
Concentrating as he was on his conversation with Cousin Mentha, Merry had missed their early comments. Even as he became aware of their speech he paid them little heed, since had heard most of it before. It was only when he heard Pearl 's name mentioned that his ears pricked and he started to listen to what Cousin Hilda was saying.
"Married before she came of age and now she's expecting. Well! I wonder what excuse they'll have for a 'seven month' babe that looks full-grown."
"Now, that I don't know, Hilda. She was certainly slim enough at the wedding. And the engagement was announced last Solmath, on her birthday. You can't say that it was a hasty business."
"That's as maybe. But the whole family is careless. Tooks! If it's not running off to sea it's mixing with elves and wizards and goodness only knows. I thought when Paladin had the good sense to marry Eglantine that the Banks blood would have given them a bit more stability, but no, there's Pervinca flirting with Merimas. Shameless. And the boy is no better. Look at him!"
Merry turned and looked, and saw Pippin in an animated discussion with Ilberic and Minto that involved extravagant hand gestures and inordinate amounts of laughter. He sighed, and wondered if he ought to go over and tell them to settle down: that much activity was bound to have repercussions before long.
Great-Aunt Asphodel seemed to agree. "Young troublemaker. He needs lessons in behaving like a young gentlehobbit. He almost knocked me to the ground last summer, tearing around the corner like a whirlwind, and he broke my best walking stick. And when I would have given him what for, young Meriadoc comes along, bold as you please, and says he'll deal with it and I'm not to worry. Not to worry, indeed! In my young day youngsters knew how to defer to their elders, but now we're of no account at all."
Merry found he was gritting his teeth. He remembered that day. He had dealt with it, and Pippin had made a formal apology and had given her a new walking stick, but his great-aunt liked nothing better than to hold a grudge.
"There's always been wildness in the Tooks," she continued, "Paladin was headstrong enough as a lad, and Ferumbras before him. Why, I remember the summer I turned twenty -"
She broke off as the parlour door opened, and Berilac Brandybuck walked in, drawing heads as usual. He was tall for a hobbit and exceedingly handsome, with dark curls, blue eyes and a cheerful smile that made all of the women and a goodly proportion of the men follow him with their eyes. He greeted Esmeralda, who was sitting with Eglantine and a few other matrons, and then walked over to the tea trolley, past the sofa that held the two gossips.
Even Saradoc had been known to flinch, slightly, under the combined glares of Great-Aunt Asphodel and Cousin Hilda, but Berry smiled politely at them and moved on, apparently oblivious to their malevolence.
"And if ever there was a Brandybuck to match a Took for wildness, it's that one," Great-Aunt Asphodel continued, in what she mistakenly considered to be an undertone. "Not that I blame the Brandybuck side, of course, but Merimac was never one for a discerning choice. I told Rory he shouldn't have allowed Berilac back into Buckland. I wouldn't have let him past the threshold, especially with all these young ones here, but then my opinion counts for little these days. Mark my words, he’ll come to a bad end, and no more than he deserves."
Cousin Hilda snorted in agreement. "He's no better than he ought to be, and never has been. The things I've heard!"
For Merry, that was the last straw. Elderly relative or not, he had just drawn breath to tell her exactly what she could do with her insults and insinuations when there was a loud crash from the other side of the room, followed by a succession of smaller sounds: Minto, skylarking, had knocked over one of the tea trolleys. Crockery and cutlery were scattered all over the floor, and one saucer was spinning out of control, going faster and faster until, suddenly, it stopped and there was silence.
Nel, who had been pouring tea for her mother, calmly picked up a trivet and placed the teapot on one of the tables before going to Minto's assistance. Several others started to set the trolley to rights and pick up the pieces, while Cousin Hilda snorted in disgust at the hapless boy's clumsiness.
Esmeralda gave Minto a withering look and called out to her son. "Merry, take these children through to the back parlour."
Merry didn't argue - he was as keen to leave the room as Minto, who was now blushing in embarrassment. He shepherded all the youngsters into the corridor, giving Minto a semi-serious cuff on the ear for his foolishness.
"Idiot! What were you doing?"
"Ilberic said -"
"Never mind what Ilberic said. You know that when you're in the Yellow Parlour you behave yourself. It's not a playroom."
"I know, but-"
"But nothing. Just be thankful Mum isn't making you clean up all the mess or replace the broken plates. Some of it was the good stuff, too."
Minto looked thoroughly miserable, and Merry felt some remorse at having taken out his bad temper on the boy when he had been about to create a far worse scene by swearing at Great-Aunt Asphodel. He reached into his pocket and found a couple of toffees, still wrapped in waxed paper, and handed them to Minto. "Here, it wasn't so bad, at that. No one was hurt, and there were only a couple of sandwiches left anyway. Get along to the back parlour and sort things out with Ilberic there."
Minto smiled wanly and headed off, clutching the toffees.
Merry ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He heard someone step up behind him and turned: it was Berilac.
"Oh, Berry , you didn't have to leave, you know, you hadn't even had a cup of tea yet."
Berry grimaced. "Merry, dearest coz. I was the only male under sixty left in the room and I could feel every single aunt's attention turning on me. I felt like a lone mouse surrounded by a dozen cats."
Merry giggled. "Well, when you put it like that, I can understand that even clumsy tweens might be preferable."
"Definitely preferable. Come on, I'm sure we can find a quiet corner to play cards or dice while the infants run around and exhaust themselves." He slipped an arm around Merry's waist and they walked down the corridor.
Merry called out to one of the serving maids in passing and asked her to bring a small tea tray to the back parlour for Berry . As she scurried away he said, "Great-Aunt Asphodel said some horrible things about you just then."
"Did she?" Berry was unconcerned. "She's never liked me."
"I was going to tell her to stop when Minto knocked the trolley over."
"It's probably just as well that you didn't; it only makes things worse. You'd be better to ignore her next time."
Merry sighed. "Why do you never care what people say about you?"
"Because... because I don't care. I know who I am, I know what I am, and it doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks of me. Spite and gossip don’t last for long - not unless someone tries to interfere. Leave it alone and it all dies away again."
"Until the next time."
"Well, you can't take away all their fun. They don't have much else to do but rake up old stories."
Merry shook his head. He liked Berry , very much, but he would never understand his total lack of concern for what was said about him, even if he recognised the wisdom of his advice.
They arrived at the back parlour and secured the necessary quiet corner by means of ordering the previous occupants to move. Merry's tone was cheerful but firm, and the youngsters gave way, though not without some comments on the abuse of rank and privilege. Berry laughed and agreed that it was a shocking thing to be sure, and they had better hurry up and move.
Pippin ran over when he saw them sitting down. "What are you going to do? Can I join in? Is Minto in heaps of trouble? Why did -"
Merry held up his hand to stop the flood of questions. "One at a time, Pip. Firstly, Cousin Berry and I are going to play cards. Secondly," he glanced at Berry , who nodded, "yes, you may join in, but you have to behave and play properly. Thirdly, it'll be up to Mum and Dad and Cousin Milo to deal with Minto."
Pippin, having caught the one piece of information he really wanted, sat down on the sofa with a bounce. "Of course, I'll behave. But you'll have to help me because I've forgotten some of the rules."
Merry sighed. He exchanged a rueful look with Berry , who smirked and said, "I'm sure Merry will help you. And I'll help Moro, because I know he's been wanting to learn, too." He called out to Moro, who had been berating his younger brother, and beckoned him over. Moro, of course, was delighted at the prospect of playing cards with Wicked Cousin Berry and sat down with a look of adoration that Berry ignored completely.
Pippin gave a snort of disgust at Moro's inclusion, while Berry and Merry, with difficulty, suppressed their amusement at the antics of the two youngsters. Berry took the pack of cards out of his pocket and began to deal.
* * *
After dinner Berry disappeared to write letters. Merry joined a group discussing the likelihood of the snow settling enough for them to go sledding or skating the next day. Pippin bemoaned the fact that he hadn't brought his sled with him to Buckland, since he was sure it was the fastest ever, but none of the Buckland hobbits would allow that, and there was plenty of good-natured jostling and ribbing as honour was defended. Merry smiled: some things never changed.
After supper had been served (hot soup and scones), he found himself drifting off to one end of the room with Pippin, talking of this and that, until they were perched on the back of a sofa, idly watching Merimas and his girlfriend wrapped around each other. Someone threw a handful of nuts at the kissing duo and they broke apart, laughing and indignant, before leaping up to wreak vengeance on their attacker.
Pippin laughed too, but it was clear to Merry that he had something on his mind. Sure enough, after a few minutes, he looked up, his eyes dark and serious.
"Merry?"
"Yes?"
"What does it feel like, being tumbled?"
Merry looked at him, momentarily surprised, and found that he felt a real reluctance to answer the question. Embarrassed, he masked his feelings with irritation. "Never you mind. You're too young for it, so there's no point in telling you."
"I'm not too young!"
"Yes, you are. Tweens tumble. You're not a tween yet."
"Am nearly."
"Pippin, you're 17! That's three years away."
"I'll be 18 come haymaking."
"Still too young."
"But I want to know."
"Well, I'm not going to tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because you're too young to know."
"I'm not!"
"Yes, you are."
Pippin was fast working himself up into a temper, and Merry was about to try and placate him with a promise of some information, if not everything, when Pippin jumped off the sofa and looked at him, green eyes blazing.
"Be like that then. I'll just ask someone else."
Merry's temper flared in response. "You do that. See if I care."
Pippin strode away, leaving Merry restless and uncomfortable, rather than relieved. It was only a few minutes later that he realised that Pippin had actually left the room. He considered trying to look for him, but he could just imagine Pippin's reaction to being checked on like a child. He talked to his cousins Vinca and Mentha for a few minutes, but declined an invitation to play spin-the-bottle with them and their friends. It was a game he enjoyed, usually, but he didn't feel like kissing anyone. Instead, he went up to his room and tried to read, but couldn't concentrate. His thoughts kept returning to Pippin. He hated it when Pippin was angry with him, or when he didn't know where Pippin was. It made him feel... well, lonely.
Lonely was an unusual feeling for Merry, for although he was an only child he had never felt like one. All his life he had been surrounded by cousins of varying degrees, who shared his lessons and his play and, sometimes, his punishments. There had always been a cousin to take him for a walk or a swim, to pick him up when he fell down a hill or out of a tree, or to hide the evidence of illicit excursions and adventures, such as his less-than-successful experiment in raising garter snakes in the airing cupboard ("because Uncle Bilbo said that they need warmth"). As he had grown older, he had been expected, in turn, to supervise the many younger cousins in permanent residence at the Hall, as well as any visiting children. Not least among these was Pippin, who seemed to require at least twice as much looking after as any other child.
Oddly enough, it was young Pippin who had often complained to Merry that he had no one to play with at home. He had three older sisters but no brothers and the nearest cousin in age was Ferdibrand, seven years his elder and rather serious. There were village children of his age in Tuckborough, of course, but Eglantine was always concerned in case he pick up illness or bad habits, and his contact with them was restricted to supervised play sessions at festivals, which of course prevented any real play at all.
Pippin had made no secret of the fact that he considered it the best of treats to come to Brandy Hall, where his aunt and uncle were very forgiving on the subject of muddy clothes, broken windows and the occasional angry farmer. He loved to play with Doderic and Ilberic, or Mosco and Moro Burrows, if they were there, and run wild through the corridors and along the riverbanks. Merry remembered, though, how often Pippin had chosen to find and follow him instead, shrugging off Merry's occasional reluctance. Truth to tell, Merry had enjoyed Pippin's company most of the time, even when he was young. The lad had a talent for finding trouble that bordered on genius, and he had to be watched more closely than milk on a stove, but he also had a quick wit and a sunny temper and he was rarely malicious or dishonest.
Together they had gone walking and riding and swimming and climbing, and Pippin had learned from him how to tell mushrooms from toadstools, how to set a snare for a rabbit and how to scrape out a bee sting with a knife blade. They also found talents that complemented each other: Merry had more book-learning, but Pippin was the better artist; Merry could identify almost any plant in the Shire, but Pippin could climb the highest branch of a tall elm and never bat an eyelid; Merry could pitch a stone to a target thirty yards away, while Pippin could talk his way out of trouble nine times out of ten.
It was a happy combination. Since Pippin liked Merry, he didn't run away as he did from most of his minders, and since Merry liked Pippin, he didn't try to avoid looking after him. When Pippin asked a question, Merry answered him, or told him where the answer would be found. When Pippin's escapades ended in disaster - as they often did - Merry would deal with the resultant chaos as best he could and never told tales. When Merry had a headache, or a hangover, Pippin would bring him treats and try to be less noisy, at least until he forgot. The end result was that, together, they were better behaved and less disruptive than each one was alone. Unfortunately, the few pranks they devised in collaboration tended to be more elaborate and more catastrophic than either could accomplish on his own. Eventually, it was accepted that when Merry and Pippin were in the same neighbourhood they would generally be found within a few yards of each other, and a wise hobbit would keep a weather eye out for trouble.
But now Pippin was growing up and changing, and Merry wasn't sure how to cope. It wasn't the same as dealing with Mosco and Doderic as they approached tweenhood. With them, it had been enough to shepherd them through their first ales (and their first hangovers), watch them steal kisses at festivals and give them some much-needed practical advice on the subject of physical intimacy. Pippin was different. The thought of seeing Pippin kissing others, whether girls or boys, was just as disturbing as the thought of kissing Pippin himself, while the idea that Pippin would be tumbling with his friends in a couple of years gave Merry an odd aching sensation in his chest.
Pippin was different.
He went to bed feeling slightly lost. His sleep was disturbed by vague and ominous dreams, and he woke up in the dark, sweating and sticky and heartsick.
* * *
The next morning Pippin caught Merry squarely (though not exactly fairly) by placing the sprig of mistletoe over the lintel of his bedroom door before he woke. When Merry stepped out, thinking only of breakfast, Pippin grinned triumphantly and pointed up.
Merry sighed, then resigned himself to the kiss. It was far too early in the day to start arguing, especially on an empty stomach, and besides, if he stuck to the new rule he had made up, he wouldn't have to worry for the rest of the day. He let Pippin push him back against the wall and hoped it wouldn't take too long - breakfast was waiting and he was hungry.
Green eyes gazed at him, brimming with laughter and mischief, but as Pippin drew closer Merry noticed that there was something new: a confidence, an expectation, that he hadn't seen before, not even yesterday. Not only that, but Pippin didn't rush straight in, as he usually did, to fasten their lips together. Instead, he raised one hand to Merry's jaw, his fingers splaying out to touch the soft skin of his neck, while his thumb brushed across Merry's cheek and mouth, stroking the full bottom lip - twice - three times. Green eyes, serious now, held Merry's gaze as gentle pressure pulled him forward, slowly, until their lips met.
Pippin's lips were soft yet firm, brushing slowly over Merry's, teasing them open, playing with each one in turn. There was a tingle to this kiss, a power that seemed to draw Merry in. When he felt Pippin's tongue sliding into his mouth, something twisted inside him, and instead of pulling back as he had intended, he paused, eyes shut, savouring the feel of Pippin's mouth, the scent of his skin, and the warmth from his body.
The kiss deepened and Merry started to lose himself. He didn't realise that his hands moved up to hold Pippin at the waist, drawing him closer, or that Pippin's body pressed against his from thigh to chest. His world had shrunk to encompass only the presence of Pippin, his dearest cousin Pippin, the one he loved, the one he wanted...
He was floating in a sea of sweet sensation, drifting on the tide of kisses that Pippin trailed along his neck, beneath his ear, and down to the hollow of the throat. The gentlest of bites was applied to his earlobe and a tingling flick of the tongue to the pulse point beneath his jaw. He was boneless, held up only by the pressure of Pippin's body against his and the strength of his arms. He heard ragged breathing and soft moans but never realised that they were his own.
As Pippin shifted position slightly, Merry felt a thrill of pleasure in his groin, and sudden heat ignited deep within him. He gasped and couldn't help pushing his hips forward slightly. When Pippin pushed back hard, deliberately, it triggered a reflex movement in Merry that ended with Pippin being slammed back against the wall and Merry grinding into his hips.
"Ow! Merry! I hit my head!"
Pippin started to struggle and this, with the cry, brought Merry to his senses. He released Pippin at once, backing away in disbelief at what he had done - and worse, what he had almost done. He wanted Pippin, wanted him badly. If Pippin hadn't called out...
"Don't ever do that again!" he snapped, ignoring Pippin's sudden contrition.
"Merry, I'm sorry -"
"Sorry isn't going to help you if you do that to the wrong person! Sorry isn't going to stop you getting hurt when it goes too far!" He was blazingly angry and thankful for it, because angry was better than frightened. He was angry at himself, at Pippin, at the sudden recognition of desire, at their age difference, at the dreams that had robbed him of a good night's sleep, at everything in the world that came between him and his cousin. He was even angry that Pippin wasn't as upset as he was over what had happened. His voice shook a little as he continued. "Now you know why I stopped you yesterday. It isn't safe to stir people up like that - it's too easy to lose control. I could have hurt you."
"But I liked it - well, until I hit my head. That bit wasn't good. But the rest of it I liked. I'd let you do it again, if you want. I'd let you tumble me. I - I love you, Merry."
His voice had softened and become child-like, and the innocent avowal was Merry's undoing. His anger vanished, leaving behind only remorse for what he had done and fear of what he might have done. He slumped against the opposite wall and slid down, resting his head on his knees, curls hiding his features. He was shaking with reaction, close to tears but not wanting Pippin to see him cry.
"Merry? Are you all right?" Pippin's voice was full of concern and he reached out to touch Merry's shoulder. When Merry didn't answer, Pippin knelt beside him and ran his fingers through the soft brown curls. Merry tried to shrug him off, but Pippin wrapped his arms around his shoulders as best he could and hugged him. Merry slid an arm around Pippin's waist and let Pippin hold him until the shaking subsided. He stayed there, almost motionless, feeling Pippin's arms around him, thinking how strange it was that Pippin should be comforting him instead of the other way around. It was some minutes before he was able to lift his head and give Pippin a reassuring pat on the arm.
"It's all right, Pippin, I'm fine now. How's your head?"
"Oh, I’ll live. I've hit it much worse before."
"Good." Merry took a deep breath and tilted his head back against the wall. He felt better, almost back in control of himself, ready to start the day once more. Just as long as Pippin didn't kiss him again. Which reminded him... "Where did you learn to kiss like that? It certainly wasn't from me."
Pippin suddenly smirked, his green eyes bright and sly, and his expression resembling that of a cat spying a saucer of cream. "I caught Cousin Berry under the mistletoe late last night. He was good. He taught me lots of things."
Merry stiffened. It was said (though Merry knew it to be an exaggeration) that there was scarcely a lad in the Shire between twenty and forty that Berry hadn't bedded or at least kissed. If Berry had harmed his Pip in any way, he would...
"What sort of things?"
"Things I asked him to teach me. Things I wanted to know and you wouldn't tell me."
Merry ignored the accusation in Pippin's voice and concentrated on the jealousy that raged through him. "Did you kiss him?"
"Of course I did! I told you, I caught him under the mistletoe."
"Did - did he kiss you?"
Pippin smiled. "Yes, he did. And it was lovely - he's a good kisser. Then I asked him to tell me what you liked and he did. He showed me, too."
Merry blanched and swallowed. He was not one of the few who had evaded Berry 's charms; in fact, he had had a short but torrid affair with him three winters back, when heavy snow had kept most of them indoors and Pippin had been stuck in the Smials at the other end of the Shire. Though Berry had not been his first lover, he had certainly been the most experienced and imaginative: by the time they parted amicably some months later, Merry felt that he had learned enough to last him a lifetime. He swallowed again as he remembered warm winter evenings in Berry 's room... The list of things that Berilac might have told Pippin was extensive and included several details that Merry would rather Pippin not know about for a long while yet.
"Um... Did he do anything else besides kiss you?"
"Well, he stroked my face with his fingers and it made me feel warm and tingly, and he showed me the best places to kiss on the neck. And he put his arms around my waist and on my hips and hugged me. Then he said that he'd shown me enough for one night and he thought that you would prefer to teach me the rest yourself."
Merry breathed out, relieved, and made a mental note to thank Berry before he left. Or punch his nose. He hadn't quite decided.
"He's right."
"Hah! I knew you wanted to." He grinned and threw his arms around his cousin, giving him another smacking kiss.
Merry groaned, realising what he'd just said.
* * *
Later that afternoon, he caught sight of Berilac with a group of older tweens and went over to talk to him. To his surprise, Berry pulled him to one side, a look of concern on his face.
"Merry, I need to talk to you. Pippin got me under the mistletoe last night and talked me into showing him a couple of things..."
"Yes, he told me, after a particularly scary demonstration of what he'd learned. What did you do to him?"
Berry bristled at the accusatory tone, but his answer sounded more exasperated than guilty. "Nothing he didn't ask me to do, and a damned sight less than he wanted."
"You shouldn't have touched him at all. He's just a child!"
"Not for much longer." Berry grasped him by the arms, looking decidedly grim, and pulled him into an alcove, slightly shielded form the main room. "Meriadoc, listen to me. This is important. Pippin is growing up. I know he's not a tween yet, but he's always been precocious and he has enough curiosity for ten Tooks. He came to me because he said you won't show him how to kiss and how to tumble."
"He's too young for it. I've told him."
"You may be right, but he doesn't think so. And you know what he's like - he's determined to find out, whether you show him or not. Telling him 'no' is not going to stop him, it's just going to make him find someone else to ask."
"But he's too young to know what he's asking for!"
"I know that. I'm not saying you should take him to bed right now. But he wants to know about kissing and holding and feeling loved. Can you give him that?"
Merry didn't answer, and Berry asked, "Do you love him?"
Merry looked uncomfortable for a few seconds, but nodded.
Berry persevered. "As a cousin or as a lover?"
Merry bit his lip, then whispered, "As a lover." He was sure that his face was blushing a deep red and stared determinedly at the wall behind Berry 's shoulder.
Berry 's voice softened. "Do you want to see him through his first time?"
Merry felt the thrill that ran through his body at the thought and nodded, unwilling to risk even a whisper.
"Well, if you want to keep him safe until then, you're going to have to give him enough so that he stays with you. If he goes begging kisses from half the Shire, he may end up with a lot more than he's ready for. You know how charming he can be just with a smile, let alone a kiss." He laughed, but there was a bitter note in it. "You have no idea how hard it was to send him away last night. He had no idea what he was doing to me. If he weren't so young, and if I didn't suspect that he really wants you, I might have..."
He drew a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, then continued. "Well, I didn't, so we won't worry about that. But there are quite a few out there who wouldn't refuse what they think he's offering, and it won't matter who he is, or who he's related to. If he had teased one of the Goodbody lads last night instead of me, he'd be sore and bloody this morning and there wouldn't be a thing that you or I could do about it."
Merry gulped. Berry was right: Pippin's single-mindedness when in pursuit of anything - be it stolen fruit, the perfect prank or information on whatever topic had taken his fancy - blinded him to any sign of danger. Now it looked as if Merry's determination not to give into Pippin's demands and his own desires was actually increasing the risk that Pippin would end up hurt.
"You're right. He's never coped well with being told no." His shoulders drooped a little. "But what can I do? How much can I give him without going too far? This morning... he... I... I mean, I do know how hard it was to say no..." I didn't want to stop...
Berilac heard Merry's distress and drew him in, letting his hands slide around Merry's waist. He pressed a kiss into the soft curls and pulled him a little closer. "Don't fret, love. He caught you by surprise this morning, didn't he?"
"Yes, he did. I almost lost control. I had him up against the wall before I realised what I had done." His lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands... Merry gave a little shiver as his body remembered the kiss.
Berry 's arms tightened around him for a moment. "But you stopped?"
"Yes. It wasn't easy, but I... I just didn't want to hurt him."
"Well, that's good. Perhaps you shouldn't let him kiss you like that again. At least, not until you're ready to take it further."
"I won't." Take it further... feel his body under mine, taste his skin, hear him cry out... He shuddered again. "I can't risk it."
"So, there you are. He won't catch you by surprise again. As long as you are in control, he stays safe."
Merry grunted. "You make it sound so easy." But I want him so much...
"I know it's easy to say and harder to do. I've had a close call or two myself, though not for several years. I try to avoid the young and virginal now." He smiled quizzically. "I'd advise you to do the same but I know you won’t."
"Do you have any more good advice, O ancient one?"
"Plenty, fauntling. Don't undo any buttons and don't close your eyes." He dropped a kiss on Merry's nose.
" Berry , you're impossible! I'd hate you if I didn't love you so much." I could never hate you.
"Well, what use is my vast experience if I can't help my cousins from time to time? I can't have the old tabbies saying I'm good for nothing, now, can I?" He grinned. "Seriously, pet, make sure Pippin knows how you feel, don't hide it from him. Give him enough that he can know it with his heart as well as his head. Hold him close and kiss him sweetly and tell him you love him... and maybe let your hands wander over him occasionally." Berry let a hand drop down over his cousin's nicely-rounded bottom to illustrate his words, before returning it to waist height.
Merry giggled. "Just like that?" You were always a tease...
"Just like that."
Merry sighed and leaned into the embrace. It was good to feel strong arms around him; good to feel protected and cherished and loved. He had enjoyed his time with Berry , and missed the comfort and support he got from his older cousin. He smiled, then rested his head against Berry 's shoulder as another kiss was pressed to his forehead. "Mmm, this feels good." You were always so warm.
"It does, doesn't it."
"Teaching by example?"
"Don't I always?"
"You do." Merry snuggled for a few seconds longer. "I miss you, sometimes." I miss the touch of your skin in the night.
"I miss you, too, pet."
"I always feel safe in your arms." He thought about that for a moment. "I suppose I should try to make Pippin feel safe." Can I keep him close and keep him safe, too?
"You should."
"But..." ...I'm scared of losing Pippin, the way you lost... He hadn't said that out loud, had he?
Berry hugged him a little more tightly, as if he'd heard what Merry hadn't said, then drew back so that they could look at each other. "I don't doubt you, Merry, and you shouldn't doubt yourself, or Pippin either. Don’t lose him by making him wait until the day he turns twenty, because he won't. You will be lovers one day - sooner than you want, and later than he wants. But if it happens a little early - well, let it happen. He loves you and he trusts you. I envy you that." He smiled a little sadly, then brought his hand up to caress Merry's cheek before kissing him gently on the lips.
"Hey, you two! The mistletoe is over here!" Pimpernel's shout triggered a chorus of giggles and groans from the tweens as they looked over and saw the two of them in what looked to be an intimate embrace.
They broke apart, laughing, and didn't see Pippin's tempestuous exit.
* * *
Pippin sulked for a day and a half and refused to talk to Merry at all, even through intermediaries; that those two days were Yule only made it worse. Vinca and Nel weren't too concerned, but then they tended to view a silent Pippin as a welcome change. None of the grown-ups appeared to notice, since they rarely saw the tweens in all the confusion that surrounded the festivities anyway, but Merry caught Aunt Egg looking at him oddly once or twice, and he kept well away from her.
In the end, it was Berry who talked Pippin around.
Second Yule was a fine day, though the temperature was below freezing. Several hobbits, mainly the younger, more energetic ones, had decided to skate on the frozen duckpond and others were riding sleds down the snow-covered slopes of Buck Hill.
Merry had put his skates on, at Mentha's urging, and had even taken a turn around the pond with her, but when she went over to join Melilot he stayed behind and skated slowly around the perimeter by himself. His head was bowed in thought, and collisions were avoided only because he was moving so slowly that the others were able to skate around him.
"Hoy! Merry!" Berry 's call startled him and he almost lost his balance as he spun around. Berry was standing on the snow beside the pond with Pippin beside him, both of them bundled up in warm coat and gloves. Merry cast a questioning look at Berry as he glided up to them.
"Pippin here has something to say to you," Berry said, giving Pippin's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Lend me your skates so I can take a turn about the pond while you're talking. There must be some people here I haven't flirted with yet, and I'd hate to disappoint the aunts."
Merry grinned and took a couple of careful steps off the ice before undoing the buckles that held the skates onto his feet. In a trice, Berry had put them on his own feet and was pushing off confidently, the blades hissing as he built up speed.
Merry turned to Pippin and waited. Pippin was watching Berry as he weaved between the other skaters, perfectly balanced, every movement graceful. Only when he was lost to view behind the others did Pippin turn back to the cousin beside him and speak.
"I'm sorry I was angry with you."
"I'm sorry, too." Merry's voice was guarded.
" Berry said you were just upset."
"Yes, I was."
"He said you're not tumbling him."
"No, I'm not." Merry wasn't all that sure where this conversation was leading, but since he didn't want to upset Pippin any more he stayed silent.
They watched the skaters for a few more minutes, until Pippin asked, "Can we be friends again?"
"Yes, of course we can." Merry felt the weight of the world fall off him and gave a huge smile as Pippin's gloved hand crept into his. "Why don't we go back inside?" he continued. "I still have some Yule cake from yesterday." He started to walk off but, to his surprise, Pippin didn't move.
"I'm not a child, you know. You can't make everything better just by giving me sweets - or cake."
Merry stopped, confused by Pippin's outburst. He considered his words carefully before speaking. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm hungry, after all this skating, and it's hours until tea-time. I have cake in my room and I want to share it with you. That's all."
"Oh." Pippin considered it for a moment, then stepped forward, and they started off. "Cake would be nice. I'm hungry, too."
"You're always hungry, Pips-... Pippin."
Pippin glanced at him. "You were going to say 'Pipsqueak', weren't you?"
"Yes, I was. But I didn't."
"I'm glad you didn't. I'm not a pipsqueak any more, anyway. I'm almost as tall as you are."
"I know. And you're still growing."
"I might end up taller than you."
"You might, at that. It would take some getting used to, though." Privately, Merry hoped that Pippin would never be taller than him - it just wouldn't feel right.
"Oh, you'd get used to it. Then I could look after you for a change."
"You don't have to be taller than me to look after me, you know."
"I know," Pippin grinned, "but I like to think about it."
"Being taller than me, or looking after me?"
"Both!"
"Well, at least there's one thing I can be sure of," muttered Merry, "you'll always be eight years younger than me."
They reached the Hall and ran up the stairs to Merry's room, where he brought out the cake and divided it in two.
Fifteen seconds later Pippin, licking the last bit of stickiness from his fingers, asked, "Do you love Cousin Berry ?"
Merry, fishing around in the tin for crumbs, looked up, startled. "No. Why?"
"You kissed him."
"So did you."
"He had his hand on your bottom."
There was an edge to Pippin's voice and Merry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oy, Pip. I didn't do any more with Berry than you did. Probably less."
"But you've lain with him."
"Years ago."
"You still want him."
"No, I don't."
"Liar."
Merry paused. If he were honest... "Well, yes, just a little. He was good to me when we were together, and he's still one of my best friends and favourite cousins. But I haven't lain with him for ages and I doubt I will again."
"Why not?"
"Because..." Merry's voice trailed off. How on earth could he explain something as complex as the history he shared with Berry ? And even that wouldn't answer Pippin's question, because the real reason had nothing at all to do with Berry . He thought about it for a second or two, wondering if it was wise to go on, then remembered what Berry had said and reached for Pippin's hand. Pippin, of all people, needed to know the reason why. "Because I love you."
Pippin was as still as a statue, his eyes wide, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Pip..." Merry pulled on Pippin's hand, drawing him closer. "I do love you. I've loved you for a long time, but I didn't know it until two days ago, when you kissed me. It was a bit of a shock."
"How can you love someone and not know it?" Pippin was genuinely curious.
"I don't know. I really don't. Maybe I didn't let myself know it, because it would have made me think about tumbling you, and it would been torment, wanting you and not being able to have you."
"You want to tumble me?" Pippin's half-anxious, half-eager question sent a thrill through Merry's body and he realised that this was the real crux of the matter. Two days before, Pippin had made his declaration and Merry had never answered him; Pippin had no way of knowing if Merry wanted him or not and yet had still made the offer to be friends again. That took courage. At the very least, he deserved to know that he was old enough to be desired, even if he was not yet old enough to be tumbled. He deserved to know how much Merry wanted him.
Merry reached over and pulled Pippin into his arms. "Pippin, my own." His face was buried in Pippin's hair and his voice was husky. "I love you. I want you. I think about you all the time. I dream about you and I wake up aching for you. I want to kiss you and touch you and lie with you, and I'm going to go mad in the next two years because I can't tumble you until you turn twenty."
Pippin shivered at Merry's words. "You could tumble me now," he whispered, inching forward and wrapping his arms around his cousin.
"No, I can't. Seriously, Pippin, I can't. I shouldn't even kiss you."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't know what you're asking for. You don't know how things change when you lie with someone." He straightened up, cupping Pippin's face between his hands.
Pippin looked at him. "How can things change that much?"
"They just do. It's as if the whole world turns upside down. Things that were important before don't matter and things that were trivial suddenly become important. You can quarrel over something as silly as which piece of cake to have first."
Pippin smiled. "But cake is important."
"Not as important as love and trust and honesty." He looked into Pippin's eyes, trying to tell him, without words, just how much love was waiting for him.
Pippin looked back. "You really love me?"
"I really love you." Merry knew he shouldn’t do anything more, but he couldn't help it: he slid a hand behind Pippin's head and kissed him, sweetly, softly, barely parting his lips. When he pulled away, Pippin tried to follow, almost losing his balance. "Pippin, love," Merry held him up and wrapped both arms around him. "You are the most beautiful lad in all the Shire, did you know that?"
Pippin looked down, embarrassed. Merry kissed the flushed cheek, then tilted Pippin's chin and kissed the perfect lips, first the upper, then the lower, then both.
"I'll lie with you when you're old enough, my sweet, and not before. But I will kiss you, and I'll hold you, and I'll tell you how much I love you, every day that we are together. And... I won't lie with anyone else while I'm waiting for you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Pippin eyes shone. "And I'll tell you how much I love you. Which is a lot."
"I'd like that."
They sat in silence for a while, arms around each other, until the light faded and they realised it was time for tea. Merry sent Pippin on ahead and stayed to close the shutters and light a small candle. He couldn't help smiling as he watched the tiny flame come to life.
Pippin was different; and now he knew why.
* * *
With anyone else, that conversation would have settled the issue, but not with Pippin: a Took could be as stubborn as a terrier after a rat when he wanted something, and Pippin was the very epitome of a Took.
Sure enough, the night before the he was due to leave, Pippin's goodnight kiss turned demanding and his eyes were dark as he drew back for air.
"I want to lie with you tonight."
Merry sighed again. This really wasn't getting any easier. "No. When you're old enough."
"But - "
"But nothing. I've told you. I love you and I will kiss you and hold you but I won't tumble you until you're old enough. Do you understand that?"
"No." Pippin's voice was still quiet, but the anger in it was clear. "Why aren't I old enough now? I know how it's done and I want to do it. I do lots of things that other hobbit-lads don't do until they're older. I help with the accounts, and I take messages around Tuckborough for Father, and I helped with the harvest last summer - with the hay, mind you, not just the fruit-picking. So why is this different?"
"Because it is." Merry sighed, trying to think of a way he could explain it. He took one of Pippin's hands and pressed a kiss into the palm. "Look Pip, as long as we've known each other, you've heard my mum and your mum tell me to look after you and not to get you into trouble. They trust me to look after you."
"And you do."
"And I do. Mostly. But don't you see - if I tumble you now, if people learn that we're lying together, they'll think that I've broken that trust. They'll say that I'm a bad influence and they'll separate us, perhaps forever."
Pippin looked alarmed. "They wouldn't!"
"They might." It had been done before, and from Brandy Hall, too, but Merry wasn't going to tell him that now.
Pippin was silent for a few minutes. The expression on his face showed that he had not thought of Merry's predicament in quite this way before. "I hadn't thought of any of that."
"That's because thinking about the consequences has always been my job. And maybe that's another reason for them to worry. You have to start thinking things through for yourself, not just acting on impulse, or relying on me to get you out of trouble. If you want to be treated like a tween you have to start behaving as a tween, not as a child."
Pippin looked mulish for a moment. Merry pulled him into another hug. Pippin resisted for a minute, but then wrapped his arms around Merry's waist.
"I love you, Merry." Pippin's voice held a smile and Merry relaxed.
"I love you too, Pip."
"I'll try to behave."
"Good."
"And I'll try to think ahead."
"That will make life easier for all of us."
"But that will all be very hard work and I'll need lots of encouragement." He was teasing now and Merry looked at him suspiciously.
"What sort of encouragement?"
Pippin beamed at him. "Kisses. Lots of kisses. And hugs. And letters, when we are apart."
"Hugs and kisses when we are together, letters when we are apart." Merry smiled fondly. "If you were a girl, people would say we were courting. Are you sure you don't want flowers? Ribbons for your hair? A new dress?"
Pippin scowled. "I'm not a girl and I was being serious."
"I'm sorry, love. I know you were. I'll write you a letter every chance I get. And you must write to me, too. It'll be good practice for you."
"I will." Pippin sighed. "Can I put pictures in mine?"
"Yes, of course you can, as long as you write a lot of words, too. A picture signed 'with love from Pippin' on it does not count as a letter."
"Not even if it's true?"
"No, not even then."
"Bully."
"Only for your own good."
"Why is it that only unpleasant things are done for your own good?"
"Only the unpleasant things have to be explained. I never have to convince you to eat for your own good, do I?"
"No." Pippin's stomach gave an impossibly well-timed grumble and Merry burst out laughing.
"Come on, then, Pipsqueak - sorry, Pippin-my-love - let's get you some supper."
* * *
The next day, as Merry watched the Took carriage start off on the two-day journey back to Tuckborough, he wondered what this year would bring to them all.