In which Pippin finds that restraining himself isn't half so much fun as restraining Merry.
Great Smials, Tookborough - 28 Forelithe 1408 SR
It was the week before Overlithe and a day before the Master of Buckland was due at the Smials with an assorted selection of family members. Pippin was sitting on a window-ledge, almost hidden by curtains and the high-backed chairs of the Green Parlour, partly dozing and partly listening to his sisters Pimpernel and Pearl chatting in a desultory fashion as they worked. Pearl was pregnant again and was busy creating a vast number of exquisitely-knitted baby garments, while Nel was occupied in the far more mundane task of hemming sheets.
Pippin stared out of the window at the iron-grey sky and wondered how far away Merry was now. With every hour that passed, the ache inside him grew more intense, and he longed for Merry's touch, for his kiss, for the smile that told him Merry loved him.
He sighed and tried again to concentrate on the book that he had been holding in his hand for the last hour, but it was no use, and his gaze drifted out to the green hills that surrounded his home. He hoped that the rain would stop soon. It had been a cool wet spring, good for the crops, but now they needed two or three weeks of dry weather to get the hay in.
In addition to that, a wet Overlithe would mean that the Tooks' Overlithe Party would have to be held inside, and that would not be nearly as good as a party held out on the Lawn (which was, in fact, the gently sloping hillside in front of the main burrow of The Smials). There was more room to move outside, more room for dancing and running around and playing hide-and-seek, and more opportunity for tweens and adults to slip away into the trees for a little privacy.
He was pulled away from his thoughts by the rush of footsteps. Pervinca came running into the room, almost helpless with laughter. "Oh, Nel, I just heard the most diverting thing! I had to come and tell you!"
"What's that?"
"Amaryllis Proudfoot is in love with Berry Brandybuck!"
Nel snorted. "More fool her. Doesn't she know?"
"Obviously not. She said she's determined to get a kiss from him at Overlithe."
" Berry ? She'd have to tie him down first. I don't think he's kissed a girl in ten years."
"Maybe she meant Merry, not Berry ." Pearl spoke almost absently, preoccupied with her knitting.
Nel and Vinca looked at each other. Pearl had been in Michel Delving with her husband's family the previous Yule and hadn't seen what had passed between Merry and Berry in the back parlour... or between Merry and Pippin in almost every other room when they had thought no one was looking.
"I don't think she did, Pearl," Vinca said slowly, and Nel frowned. "She was talking about how much she likes his dark curls." Nel relaxed.
"Well, he is indecently handsome. I daresay I'd kiss him myself, if he were tied down." Pearl smiled fondly, then started counting stitches again.
Nel and Vinca stared at Pearl , then at each other, then both burst out laughing. Nel threw her sewing to the floor and raced outside to torment poor Amaryllis. Vinca stayed only long enough to pick up the linen and deposit it on the chair, then ran outside as well. Pearl shook her head at their antics and continued knitting.
Pippin took the opportunity to slip out of the window unnoticed and went for a walk down to the river, ignoring the light drizzle that had started to fall. He was glad that Nel and Vinca hadn't given him away, but, more importantly, he was thinking about what they had said. It gave him food for thought.
Pippin was not happy with how little time he had been able to spend with Merry over the last six months. Apart from the week of Grandfather Rory's funeral, they had only had the odd market day or family birthday together. He had asked to spend the summer at Brandy Hall, but his father, who was taking on more and more of the Thain's responsibilities from Cousin Ferumbras, had decided to keep him in Tuckborough instead. Merry was busy too, accompanying his father on his visits around Buckland, learning land management and leadership in the same way that his father had before him.
The few times that he and Merry had been together had been very pleasant. True to his word, Merry had hugged and kissed Pippin, and had occasionally let him do a little more. Although what they did had felt wonderful, Pippin wanted to do more exploring, especially of warm bare skin, and Merry wasn't as cooperative about that. He was also very careful about not touching Pippin in places that he particularly wanted to be touched, which sometimes made him smile and sometimes made him sigh.
It just didn't make sense. He knew he loved Merry; he knew that Merry loved him. He knew that Merry desired him - the evidence was unmistakable at times - and he couldn't understand why Merry still said no. It was getting more and more difficult to stop when Merry told him to stop. He wanted more. He wanted it all.
He was tired of waiting.
He sighed. He was Peregrin Took, and Peregrin Took was not used to waiting. In his short life, he had found that there was very little that he couldn't obtain by asking, cajoling or outwitting. He could talk the cooks into giving him the choicest treats from the kitchen, or the dairymaids into giving him fresh milk from the cows before breakfast, or Vinca into stealing Nel's journal so they could read about the Nobottle lad she had fancied last summer (he'd also talked Vinca into sneaking it back into Nel's room, which was when she had got caught, of course). His charm and bright grin had enabled him to avoid punishment for some of the most outrageous tricks in his repertoire, though not, unfortunately, all of them.
If he could do all that, why could he not cajole Merry into lying with him? The problem had worried at him for the last few weeks, since his father had decided that this year there would be an Overlithe party. The Tooks' parties were renowned and none more so than Overlithe, when hobbits large and small, high and low, rich and poor, revelled in the day that belonged to no week or month and all the normal rules were seemingly forgotten. The Brandybucks would be there, he knew, and Burrows and Bolgers and Boffins and some of the less irritating Bracegirdles. Even his reclusive Cousin Frodo would be there.
Overlithe would be the ideal opportunity to convince Merry that it was the right time for them. And if Merry proved resistant to logical argument or to cajolery, that left him only one option - outwitting - and, thanks to his sisters, he now had an idea how to go about it.
He made his way back to his room and turned out all the drawers and cupboards, trying to find something that he could use. It had to be strong enough - but soft enough - and long enough - but not too long - not too thick - but not too thin either - and of course he really needed two of them.
Hmm... nothing at all suitable. He left the room and wandered through the Smials, taking care to avoid being seen by anyone who might give him some task to do. He searched high and low, but it was a couple of hours before he came across the very thing, in the laundry of all places: strips of linen torn from old, worn-out sheets and made into bandages. Of course: Nel had been hemming new sheets to replace them.
He took two of the bandages and hid them in his jacket, then sneaked back to this room. There was no point in setting up today - he would have to wait a day or two until he could be sure it was going to work. And, to be fair, he would give Merry another chance first.
* * *
The weather started to clear the next day and the sun was shining when Pippin saw the Buckland carriages draw up to The Smials, overflowing with Brandybucks large and small. As Merry jumped down from his pony and raised a hand to assist his mother, Pippin decided that he was right to make the most of this visit: the Master and his family were only here for a few days either side of the Lithe festival, and after that it would be several weeks, if not months, before they would see each other again. If fate was unkind, it might not be until Yule, and that would be far too long.
"Hello there, young Pip," the deep booming voice of his Uncle Saradoc carried across the courtyard with ease.
"Hello, Uncle," Pippin called out as he ran across to be enveloped in warm hugs. "Father's in the study and mother's -"
"Mother's right here." Eglantine Took came forward and hugged Esmeralda, then Saradoc. "Hello Esme, Sara. Ah, Marmadas, Althea," she added, with more hugs, "I was hoping that you would be able to join us as well. How did Mentha fare on the journey?"
"Quite well," Althea answered her, looking over to where her daughters were standing beside the second carriage, while Merimas, her son, was clambering up to the roof to untie the straps that secured the luggage. "She has improved a great deal these last two months."
"Excellent."
Pimpernel and Pervinca came hurrying out of the open door at that moment and made straight for the two Brandybuck girls. Eglantine looked at Pippin and Merry, who were hugging each other tightly and trying to see who could talk the fastest, and smiled. "Boys! You two can make yourselves useful by supervising the baggage while we grown-ups have a civilised chat. Pippin knows where everyone is staying." She led the other adults away and left the boys to carry on.
With all the tweens helping, it wasn't very long before baggage was sorted and deposited in the right rooms. The girls disappeared into Pimpernel's room to discuss important things like clothes and possible dance partners, while Merimas caught up with Folco Boffin, who had arrived with his family a couple of hours earlier.
Merry and Pippin ran with Merry's bag to the room along the corridor from Pippin's own. This room had been Merry's whenever he was at the Smials for as long as he could remember. Though smaller than Pippin's, it was well-appointed, with bed, desk and wardrobe, and had a round window with a ledge that was large enough for hobbit-lads to curl up in.
As the door shut behind them, Merry dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around Pippin, who lost no time in fastening his lips to Merry's and beginning a long deep kiss that tried to make up for all the days they had been apart. They pressed against each other as if that alone could join them.
It was many minutes before they could bear to move apart enough to speak, and even then their words were interspersed with kisses and soft touches of skin to skin.
"Hello, love," Merry whispered.
"Dearest Merry. I've missed you so much."
"I missed you too.
"I've been waiting for you all day."
"We set off late. I wanted to ride ahead, but father wouldn't let me. I knew you'd be waiting."
"You're here now. Don't waste time talking." So saying, Pippin returned to the task of re-acquainting himself with the inside of Merry's mouth.
Some time later, they were snuggling together on the window ledge, looking out at the rolling hills that glowed in the late afternoon sunshine. Pippin leaned his head back on Merry's shoulder and wrapped Merry's arms around him like a shawl. He felt as if they could stay there forever and life would be perfect. He lifted one of Merry's hands to his lips and kissed it, feeling Merry nuzzle against his neck in return.
"It's Overlithe next week," he murmured.
"I know, silly. That's why we're here."
"No, I mean it's Overlithe."
"You said that."
"Overlithe, Merry. No rules. You can do almost anything on Overlithe and not get into trouble for it."
"That's because most things that happen on Overlithe don't happen for another four years. I know what you're asking, Pip, and the answer's still no."
'But it's the ideal -"
"Pip." Merry straightened up and turned Pippin to face him. "Overlithe is for things that don't belong in day to day life. Yes, people do strange things at Overlithe, but it's all forgotten as soon as Afterlithe starts. People go back to what they were before."
"Not always."
"I'm not talking about the odd Rethe baby either." He took Pippin's face in his hands, looking directly into the green eyes. "Yes, I could tumble you at Overlithe and no one would say a word - as long as I go straight back to Buckland and don't see you for a year. If we are known to be lying together after that, it won't matter whether it started at Overlithe or not, we'll still have to face our families."
"Couldn't we just do it the once?"
Merry touched his forehead to Pippin's and ran his hands through soft curls. "I don't think I could. I don't think I could lie with you and then walk away, not to see you, not to hold you... It would break my heart and I couldn't survive that."
"My heart breaks every time you say no. I survive." Pippin pulled away and slid off the window ledge. "I don’t understand how breaking your heart is worse than breaking mine."
"Pippin -"
"You tell me no, and then you say it's because you can't face the hurt afterwards if we can't see each other. But it hurts me now, and you don't seem to care about that."
"It hurts me, too."
"Then why are we here, arguing about it again?"
"Because you brought it up. I don't want to argue about it, not when I've only just got here."
"But it doesn't make sense. If we both want to-"
"Pippin!" Merry's voice stopped Pippin in mid-sentence. Merry took a deep breath to calm himself and then tried once more. "Pippin, you just have to accept that life doesn't make sense a lot of the time. There's no rhyme or reason to it at all."
Pippin looked back at Merry for a moment. "If there's no reason to it, what's the point of following the rules?" he said quietly, then walked out of the room.
Merry looked up at the closed door and whispered, "No point at all."
* * *
By the time Merry got back down to the great hall, there were more arrivals. Frodo was there, looking a bit dishevelled, and Merry surmised that he had walked over from Hobbiton.
"Yes," Frodo confirmed, "and I'm more tired than I expected. I must be getting old. I think I'll ride next time."
"Nonsense, you're just out of practice. You should take a few more walks and see how you pull up."
"Maybe. For now, I am going to go to my room and tidy up. Sam should have unpacked by now. I'll come back down in time for tea."
There was a flurry of movement and laughter at the door and they turned to see Berilac walking in with Reginard Took. Berry had obviously ridden over from Michel Delving, since he was carrying saddlebags. He was bronzed and freckled and the sun had given his dark locks a hint of chestnut. He was laughing at something Reg had said, and altogether Merry thought that, Pippin apart, he was the most attractive-looking hobbit he had ever seen.
"Oh, wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know that Berry was coming! It'll be a fantastic Overlithe party now."
"I'm sure it will be," said Frodo, "though I'm not sure that the Tooks would appreciate your comment."
"Oh, Frodo, you know I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that Berry is fun to be with."
Having handed his bags over to one of the staff to be taken up to his room, Berry came over to say hello to them. Merry greeted him with a warm smile, a hug and a kiss on the cheek; Frodo with a polite smile and a handshake.
"Frodo thinks the Tooks will be insulted because I said that Overlithe will be better for you being here."
"Well, I doubt that Tooks need any assistance in throwing a party, whatever the time of year, but I'm always happy to lend my talents to the pursuit of pleasure... in its many forms." He turned to Frodo. "You're looking well, cousin," he said amicably.
"As are you. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go upstairs to wash and change." He walked off, ignoring Merry's somewhat surprised look.
"Don't worry about him, Merry. He and I don't always get on, you know that."
"Yes, but he's not always that obvious about it."
"Well, maybe he has something else on his mind."
"Cousin Berry!" It was Pippin, shouting from the door and racing over to give him a hug. He beamed at both of them, then remembered that he wasn't speaking to Merry and flushed.
Merry looked uncomfortable and turned away. "I'll see you at tea, then, Berry," he muttered, heading for the front door.
Berry was puzzled. "What's wrong with everyone here?" he asked Pippin.
Pippin shrugged. He was saved from further interrogation by the arrival of a blushing Amaryllis Proudfoot. Pippin looked on in disgust as Amaryllis simpered and preened in front of Berry, drawing attention to her glossy chestnut locks with her fingers and tilting her head as she smiled. She was pretty and neatly turned out, but not endowed with much intelligence. Pippin couldn't understand why she would be after Berry, who had never made any secret of his preference for males.
After only two minutes Pippin had had enough. "Your mother's looking at you, Amaryllis," he said, "I think she wants to talk to you. And I have to show Cousin Berry to his room."
Amaryllis was obviously reluctant to leave, but Berry excused himself and walked with Pippin towards the stairs. As they ascended the first flight, Pippin snorted in disgust. "Girls! What makes them do that?"
Berry grimaced. "Unfortunately, I'm seen as a good catch." At Pippin's questioning look, he elaborated, "I'm of age, I'm the factor for Brandy Hall and, since grandfather died, I'm second in line for the Mastership. There are plenty of fond mamas who are willing to gamble that Merry might die or fail to produce an heir and that any wife of mine would end up as the Mistress of Buckland."
Pippin looked nauseated. "That's horrible."
"It is, but it's a fact of life," Berry sighed. "The Buckland aunts are just as bad, even the ones without daughters of their own. They seem convinced that my life will be immeasurably improved by the addition of a wife and a smial full of babies. The fact that I have absolutely no intention of marrying, ever, seems to make little difference to them."
"Have you told them that?"
"Repeatedly. But they don't listen. It seems to be something that happens to people as they get older - they're convinced that no child or tween can possibly know better than they do. I did hope that my coming of age last year might make a difference, but, if anything, it's become worse, at least with the aunts. Now they say that I may be of age, but I haven't 'settled down' enough to know my own mind. The trouble is that their definition of 'settling down' is getting married and producing a smial full of babies, so I can't win!"
They chuckled, and Berry continued, "And if you think that's bad, wait until Merry comes of age. They'll be stalking him like poachers after a rabbit."
Pippin lost all desire to laugh. "Merry..."
Berry looked repentant. "I'm sorry, Pippin. Bad choice of words." He put an arm around Pippin's shoulders and gave a friendly squeeze. "Don't worry about it too much - he has at least eight years before he needs to think about it and Aunt Esme will keep the worst of the gold-diggers away from him. She won't let him get caught by Amaryllis or anyone like her."
Pippin nodded, more out of politeness than agreement. He left Berry at the door to his room and went back downstairs, his heart filled with contempt for the entire female sex. He glared at a hapless cousin, made a lightning raid on the tea trolley that was waiting to be wheeled into the Green Parlour, and took himself off to his favourite oak tree to be alone with his thoughts.
* * *
Dinner was uncomfortable. It seemed to Merry that there were undercurrents around the whole room, only some of which he could identify.
Pippin sat with his parents and sisters for the meal, then circulated through the guests, playing the young host for all it was worth. He didn't ignore Merry, precisely, but treated him as any other guest. Perversely, Merry felt more hurt by that than if he had been thoroughly ignored.
He tried to talk to Berry, but found that his cousin was rather abstracted, his gaze often drifting across the room to where Reg was chatting to Frodo. Merry wondered if Berry and Reg were together at the moment or not - they had been lovers off and on for years. If they were, it would make life difficult for Reg, who had recently become engaged to Periwinkle Bolger, with the wedding planned for the autumn.
Talking to Frodo was no easier: though Frodo was too polite to let his attention wander, Merry had the distinct impression that Frodo wanted to be elsewhere.
To add to that, he found himself the object of attention from Amaryllis, which disconcerted him until he found out that she was actually interested in Berry. He was sorely tempted to tell her that she was wasting her time, but, in a moment of pure self-interest, decided that Berry was quite capable of looking after himself and if Amaryllis (and, of course, her mother) were concentrating on Berry, they wouldn't be pursuing him. He embarked on an account of Berry's virtues that would seriously have surprised the hobbit in question, not to mention all those who had had a hand in his bringing up, and finished by suggesting, subtly, that a gift of candied fruit might be just the thing to sway Berry's affections in her favour. After all, as he reasoned, Berry was bound to share them with his favourite cousins...
Once Amaryllis had moved on, he made one more attempt to talk to Pippin, but his cousin seemed to be as skilled in evading him as he had been previously in catching him.
After several minutes of fruitless pursuit, he gave up, pleading fatigue from the long ride and retiring to bed. He didn't sleep well.
* * *
The next morning was a little better. Pippin, who could never hold a grudge for long, greeted Merry in his usual cheerful fashion at breakfast, and they were soon chatting amicably. Merry felt relieved and happily fell in with Pippin's plans for the day.
Several of the tweens wanted to play cricket, and very soon there was a match arranged on the back lawn: East and North Farthings against South and West. Even though this placed Merry and Pippin in opposing teams, they both enjoyed the match. South and West emerged the victors by three wickets thanks to a sterling effort from Frodo Baggins, who wielded the willow with an elegance and skill that pleased the eye no matter where one's loyalties might be. Though he didn't quite make a century, he wore out four bowlers and was only vanquished by a deceptive leg-break from Fatty Bolger, who bowled a mean spinball in spite of - or, perhaps, because of - his bulk.
The game had had a number of keen spectators, including the smitten Amaryllis, and Merry noted with glee that she waylaid Berry as he was making his way from the field, forcing a small parcel into his hand.
There was time for an ale or two before they had to wash and change for dinner, and the teams were jovial and noisy as they dispersed to their smials. Pippin and Merry went up the stairs arm in arm and straight into Merry's room. As they came together for a kiss, Merry smelled the ale on Pippin's breath and saw his dilated pupils.
"How many ales did you have, Pip?" he asked, concerned.
"Only three." Pippin smiled brightly and hugged him.
Merry let his breath out in annoyance, then realised that it couldn't be helped. Pippin didn't seem too badly affected, and he would keep a closer eye on his cousin in the future. He hugged back, saying, "You've got sunburn on your nose."
"So have you. You've got freckles, too."
"I've always had freckles."
"I've always liked them."
"That's good, love." Merry kissed Pippin lightly on the lips, then again a little more deeply, tasting the sweetness.
Pippin snuggled against Merry's shoulder, nuzzling his neck and nibbling at the delicate skin. "You taste like salt."
"I need a wash."
"It was a good day, today."
"It was, love."
"I wish you could be here for longer."
"I know, sweetheart, but we have to get back for the haymaking."
"I don't want you to go. I can't bear not being with you."
"Sshh. Enjoy the time we have here. Don't think about saying goodbye until we have to."
They kissed again, their bodies intertwining even more closely, until Merry realised that Pippin's hands were running over his hips and bottom and he could feel both their arousals. Reluctantly, he pulled back and took Pippin's hands in his, kissing them and holding them to his chest.
"I think we'd better stop there for a little."
"I don't want to stop." Pippin was flushed and breathless and his eyes glittered.
"Oh, Pippin, please..."
"I want you. You want me."
"You said you'd wait."
Pippin's expression turned sullen. "I don't see any reason why we should any more. I can't see how waiting is going to change anything except the fact that we'll both ache for longer."
"You know why. You aren't old enough."
"Much you know about it. I've been asking. I know of at least two hobbits who were tumbling at 18."
"Pippin, please don't make this any harder for me than it is already."
"But I want it to be as hard as possible." With a malicious grin he pushed his hips forward, whispering, "And I want it to be inside me."
Merry flinched and pushed Pippin away. "Get out of here!"
"What?" Pippin stumbled and fell back against the door, sliding to the ground as his legs gave way.
"I said get out of here. Leave. If you can't play fair, then go away and leave me alone."
Pippin stood up slowly, his face blank with shock. He had never seen Merry look like this, never heard his voice so harsh and bitter.
"Merry -"
"Go away, Pip."
"But -"
"Go!"
He went.
It was only after the door had closed that Merry allowed himself to think of what Pippin had done to him. Every nerve in his body had screamed at him. The image in his head and the pressure in his groin had overwhelmed him with want and need and guilt and pain. He had wanted to throw Pippin onto the bed and tumble him then and there, and the effort of not doing so had left him weak and trembling.
He hated Pippin for having done this to him.
He hated himself for having pushed Pippin away.
He hated everyone in the Shire who said that Pippin was too young, because it was their fault that he was here now, miserable and aching and alone.
He slumped down onto the bed, tears stinging his eyes, and buried his face in his pillow. It just wasn't fair. He lay there for a long time, until he had calmed down sufficiently to contemplate washing and changing.
Naturally, he was late for dinner, earning scowls from his father and Uncle Paladin and a concerned look from his mother. He wasn't able to sit anywhere close to Berry, Frodo, Pippin, or even Fatty Bolger, but instead was squashed between his third cousins Everard and Ferdibrand, neither of whom he found congenial company.
It was another uncomfortable evening.
* * *
First Lithe started badly: Merry had not slept well and missed first breakfast. At second breakfast, he was collared by Amaryllis again and suffered a few anxious moments as she leaned over him to reach the butter. She had doused herself in violet scent which was cloying and sickly-sweet. After only a few minutes, Merry felt ill and decided that, hungry or not, he had to get away.
He spotted Pippin talking with Aunt Eglantine in the main hall, by the ornate staircase. Pippin was obviously being chastised for something - his head was down and he was shuffling his feet. Merry contemplated going over and giving Pippin some moral support, but then Pippin looked up and his expression was anything but welcoming. Instead, Merry changed direction and headed down to the stables to take his pony out for a canter, but he found that one of the grooms had already exercised her that morning. After a few minutes' thought, he decided to go and find somewhere quiet to read until lunchtime. He grabbed an apple (one of last year's crop, slightly withered but perfectly sound) and ran back up to his room to fetch a book and a clean handkerchief. As he rounded the corner he bumped into Pippin, who gave a guilty start.
Merry's eyes narrowed. "What have you been doing?" he asked.
"Nothing!"
"Nothing, my Aunt Fanny. You're up to mischief again."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"Why do you always treat me like a child?"
"Why do you always behave like one?"
"I don't!"
Merry raised an eyebrow. Pippin pouted. Merry reached out an arm to grab him, but Pippin jerked away. Giving Merry a murderous look, he turned around and walked away without another word.
Merry watched him, puzzled, angry and frustrated. Why was Pippin being so impossible about things? Why could he not see that this was the only way? He shut his eyes and wished with all his heart that Pippin would stop tormenting him and accept that there were some things they simply couldn't do yet, no matter how much they wanted to.
His head ached.
* * *
Pippin avoided Merry for the rest of the day, not trusting himself to keep his temper. With every hour that passed, he became more and more convinced that something had to be done before Merry and he became estranged forever. Whatever happened, it couldn't possibly be worse than the expression on Merry's face as he had pushed him away the day before: that had hurt him more than any physical blow had ever done.
After dinner, he watched as Merry joined Berry, Saradoc and several other older tweens and adults who were discussing serious subjects to do with soils and yields and the approaching harvest. Merry was the quietest one, drinking his ale in silence, only speaking when asked a question.
Pippin observed him from where he sat, until he was happy that Merry was settled and not likely to move for an hour or two. Then he nodded to himself and headed up the stairs. It looked like tonight would be a good opportunity after all.
Merry's bed had a wooden frame, with posts at each corner and a sturdy headboard. He secured one end of each bandage to the headboard and tucked the free ends under Merry's pillow, where he would be able to reach them. Satisfied, he smoothed the coverlet over the pillow and made a stealthy exit.
Now all he could do was hope that Merry didn't get too drunk. He had to be able to wake him at some stage.
Merry was still sitting nursing another ale when he slipped back into the room. Pippin watched him for a while longer, running over various ways he could draw Merry away from the group, unaware that he himself was under scrutiny until his mother's voice beside him startled him from his reverie.
"What are you planning, son?"
"Nothing!" The response was automatic.
"I am not blind, Pippin. Nor am I stupid. If you are planning more mischief, I would like to know in advance so that I may avoid the worst of the fuss - or work out how to placate your father."
Pippin grinned, then sobered. If it all went wrong, there would be more than just "fuss", and he - or rather, Merry - would need someone to speak up for him. He took a deep breath. He was taking a risk, and he knew it, but his mother was very fond of her Brandybuck nephew, and if anyone could protect Merry from the wrath of his father, it would be she. "Mum, I need something from you."
Eglantine was intrigued and a little apprehensive.
"I am planning something, and it does affect Merry. I think that it will turn out well. But if it doesn't, he may get into trouble." He stopped. "Actually, even if it goes well, he may be in trouble. I need you to remember that it's my plan, and that he knows nothing about it. If it goes wrong, the blame is mine." He looked steadily into her eyes, his voice quiet but firm. "Mine alone."
Eglantine looked at her son, then glanced over at Merry, who was now staring at Pippin, oblivious to all else. His look of longing and misery explained a great deal that had puzzled her over the last few days. She lifted her hand to Pippin's face and looked at him for several seconds, as if memorising his features. This was a new Pippin, displaying a sense of purpose and a quiet determination that she had not seen before. "Pippin... are you sure about this? It is not what I would have chosen for you, even for a tweener pairing. And you are very young."
She saw the flash of temper cross Pippin's face, but to her surprise he controlled it and spoke calmly. "I know I'm young in years, but I am sure. More sure of this than of anything in my life."
She nodded, apparently satisfied. "I cannot give you my blessing. But you have my support if it is needed. And so does Merry."
"Thank you." He kissed her cheek and put his arms around her. Eglantine felt tears smarting in her eyes as she hugged her baby boy to her for the very last time.
They went to sit with Paladin, but Pippin still kept a covert eye on Merry, who looked more and more miserable with every minute that passed. Eventually Merry rose, a little unsteadily, and made his way back up to his bedchamber. Pippin gave him twenty minutes' start, then followed.
* * *
Merry was having an amazing dream. He was lying in a field, arms above his head, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin. Pippin was with him, tickling his skin with a grass stem, running it lightly over his arms, thighs, hips and belly. He squirmed a little, but Pippin was soothing him, murmuring words of love into his ear, kissing him softly on the lips. It felt wonderful, being with Pippin, so happy and good and right. He was aroused, but that was good, too. No need to worry about hurting Pippin in his dreams; Pippin was never too young in his dreams...
Merry woke with a start and found that he had not imagined the touch of lips or hands. By the light of a single candle, he could see that Pippin was straddling his thighs, one hand resting lightly on his chest, the other around his - Oh Valar! Pippin was naked and aroused and Merry had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
"Pippin -?" He had to find out if he was still dreaming. His dreams had never felt quite like this, but then neither had reality.
He tried to sit up, but his arms were above his head and he couldn't pull them down. He tilted his head back and caught sight of the restraints around each wrist. He couldn't believe it. He was tied to the bed!
He was definitely not dreaming.
"Pippin! What do you think you're you doing?"
"I'm making love to you." Pippin's tone was smug as he dropped another kiss onto Merry's chest.
"!?!" There was no way to describe the incredulous and indignant sound that escaped from Merry's lips. "Untie me now, Pip!"
Pippin removed his hand, straightened up and looked him in the eye. "No."
"Untie me! Let me go!"
"No."
"You are going to be in so much trouble for this, just wait till I get free." Merry struggled for a few more seconds. "Pippin! Untie me now!"
"No."
"This is not fair."
"Wasn't meant to be."
"Let me go."
"No."
"Don't make me yell for help, you miserable excuse for a cousin."
Pippin was alarmed. Yell for help? He couldn't allow that. He would have to gag Merry, and quickly, before he could raise any of the hobbits sleeping nearby. Bother! He had no more bandages. Frantically, he cast his eyes around the room and caught sight of Merry's discarded shirt on the chair. In three seconds, he had retrieved it, twisted it into a rope and placed it over Merry's still-open mouth. It was a shame, because he had imagined kissing Merry throughout their love-making... but if Merry cried out, there wouldn't be a love-making. One had to be practical about such things. He wrestled one end of the linen gag behind Merry's head and tied a fairly rough knot at the side. It wasn't pretty, but it was certainly effective. Merry's outraged cries were muffled into whimpers.
Pippin discovered that he rather liked hearing Merry whimper.
He sat back on his heels and looked at his cousin, waiting until he settled. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually Merry stopped struggling against the bindings and lay there, his chest heaving from his exertions, glaring at Pippin from stormy eyes, but making no further attempts to speak.
Pippin's voice was calm and matter-of-fact when he spoke. "I am 17 years old, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and I'll be 18 in a few weeks. I'm old enough to lie with you."
Merry glared at him, but Pippin took no notice.
"You know I've wanted this for months and months. You want it, too, I know you do. I've known that since Yule."
Merry closed his eyes and his erection twitched at the mention of that devastating kiss, but Pippin continued on with the speech he had spent all day preparing.
"I said I'd wait, and I've waited for six months. Doesn't that count for anything? I want you more now than I did then. Every time I see you, I want you more. Every time you say 'No', it hurts me more." He paused, letting his hands roam lightly over Merry's chest, feeling him shiver. "Do you know how many times you've said 'No' to me since Yule? I've lost count." Pippin leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of Merry's shoulders, so that he could look into his cousin's eyes. "I don't like 'No', Merry. I'm tired of hearing 'No'. I want 'Yes'." His voice dropped to a husky whisper as he rocked his body forward and brought his lips down to whisper in Merry's ear. "I'm not letting you go until you say 'Yes'." He dragged his lips over the gag and down to the sensitive skin of Merry's neck. He nuzzled and gave the area a few wet licks, feeling Merry squirm and enjoying the taste of him.
He worked his way slowly down Merry's body, kissing his chest, belly, hips, thighs, knees, and feet. He spent some time stroking the hair on Merry's feet, running his fingers over the toes and the hard, leathery soles, before starting to move up again. He gently caressed Merry's shins, circling the kneecaps with his fingertips, running quick feather-light strokes of his tongue over the thighs. Merry was making small uncoordinated movements of his legs and hips, trying to get closer to Pippin's mouth and hands.
As he reached the top of Merry's thighs, Pippin halted, placing his fingers around Merry's erection, feeling the softness of the skin, the firmness of the flesh underneath, the slight moisture at the tip. He stroked it up and down a few times, amazed by the effect that the movement had both on Merry and on himself. After another gentle squeeze, he let it go and moved up so that he was straddling Merry's hips again, bending forward and pressing himself full length against Merry's chest. He put his mouth close to Merry's ear, whispering, "You've been so strong, saying no to me all these months, and I love you for it. But I've been ready for this for a long time, Merry. I know you think it's too soon, but it's not. I'm ready for you. I want you to be ready for me."
It happened then, at that exact moment, and Pippin felt it: Merry stopped fighting and surrendered, letting go of all the tension that had held him for the past few months. He lay still for a few moments, then Pippin felt him start to shake. Concerned, he looked up but found that Merry was laughing. Pippin laughed, too, giddy with relief.
"I want to kiss you. If I take away the gag, will you yell?"
Silently, eyes still brimming with laughter, Merry shook his head.
Pippin undid the knot at the side and lifted the shirt slowly, kissing each new inch of skin that was revealed, smoothing away the redness with his fingertips. Merry turned to meet Pippin's lips, lifting his head slightly off the pillow. Pippin tilted his head and parted his lips, sucking gently on Merry's bottom lip, then taking it between his teeth and giving the gentlest of bites, following that with a soothing stroke of his tongue. He repeated this several times, alternating between the top and bottom lips. As Merry opened up to him, Pippin slid his tongue and started to move over the inside of each lip in a slow, undulating pattern that caused Merry to shudder and groan.
It was a long time before Pippin pulled back enough to let them breathe, and even then his mouth was nuzzling Merry's skin. Merry's breath was warm on his shoulder and carried one whispered word to his ear: "Yes".
A thrill went through Pippin's body as he looked into Merry's eyes, so dark in the candlelight, and saw, at last, that Merry was looking at him with undisguised need. No more lies, no more veiled truths to protect the child he had been. No more waiting. Merry's eyes met his in frank acknowledgment of his right to love and be loved.
He reached up to untie the restraints, kissing each wrist tenderly as the bandage was removed, then bringing the arms down slowly. He ran his hands over Merry's broad shoulders and chest, rubbing away the soreness, and smiled as Merry brought his arms up to enfold him. Merry's hands ran up and down his back, so lightly that the touch was somewhere between ice and flame, making him shiver.
As he leaned down to kiss Merry, Pippin thought that there could be no greater bliss than being here, where he had wanted to be for so long: naked and lying on top of the one he loved. A moment later, he realised that he was wrong when Merry rolled them both over until Pippin was the one underneath. Merry had one arm under his neck and shoulders, and the other cupping his jaw. Then Pippin began to feel rather giddy, because Merry looked into his eyes for a long minute without moving and whispered, "I love you, Pippin."
The kiss that followed exceeded anything that Pippin had ever known. Released from the constraint of hiding his feelings, Merry kissed him more deeply, more sensuously than he had ever done before. Merry's tongue invaded his mouth, probing deep inside, running over teeth and lips and palate, swirling around his own tongue and plunging deep again. There was a rhythm to its movement that excited Pippin beyond measure.
This felt right; this was right. However much Pippin had enjoyed the heady sensation of having complete control over Merry, he liked this more. The feeling of being wrapped in Merry's arms, of feeling his body aligned with his, Merry's lips trailing down to his ear -
"I love you, Pippin. I want you. I want to lie with you and tumble you and make love to you."
- of hearing Merry speak those words to him: all this was absolute bliss. Merry was going to make love to him and then -
"Merry..."
"Mmm?"
"Is this going to hurt?"
Merry took Pippin's chin and turned his head so that he could see the depth of love in Merry's eyes.
"No, love. Nothing will hurt tonight."
"It's just that I heard..."
"Sshh. Trust me. Nothing will hurt." Merry was kissing him again, on lips and eyes and nose and cheeks. "Some things do hurt at first, but we won't do them tonight. This is your first time, and for that there is only pleasure, and delight, and love."
- everything would be perfect.
Pippin relaxed and settled into Merry's embrace. He couldn't suppress small shivers as Merry's fingers trailed over his skin, stroking him gently, roving over chest, hip and thigh before venturing around his buttocks. Then the fingers dipped lightly into the crevice between, teasing him with the promise of delights to come. Pippin lifted his hips and opened his legs slightly, wanting more, but Merry withdrew, whispering, "Later, love."
Fingers drifted back around to his chest to rub across his nipples, first with the pads and then gently with the nails. Pippin gasped, then gasped again as the fingers rolled one nipple between them, producing wave after wave of sensation that thrilled him.
Finally, Merry's hand drifted down his belly, circling his navel and stroking his hips before halting at the inside of his thigh. Merry smiled teasingly at him, saying, "I've wanted to touch you here for a long, long time."
Pippin yelped and his eyes widened as Merry's hand cupped his balls and then closed around his shaft. He had expected it to feel the same as when he touched himself, but it didn't - it tingled and thrilled all the way through his body. He almost came then and there, whimpering as Merry's hand - Merry's wonderful, wonderful hand - moved up and down slowly, his thumb caressing the tip and spreading the clear fluid that was leaking there. Merry's grip tightened and he moved a little faster. Pippin felt a fluttering, rushing sensation building within him, growing and writhing and spreading and coiling around and -
"Merry - oh, Merry - oh - I - " he was gasping, but he couldn't breathe.
"Hush, love. Let it happen. It'll be all right. There will be more of this tonight. Just let it happen. Let me see you." Merry's voice was soft in his ear, soothing and safe, while his hand continued to move in just the right way.
- and Pippin's world changed forever as his body exploded into light and fireworks and heat and a long, low, roll of thunder. He couldn't hear, he couldn't see: all he could do was feel, but there was too much sensation all at once and he fell away into darkness.
He came to himself a minute later, looking up into Merry's eyes, which glittered with tears, and he couldn't understand that because Merry was smiling at him.
"I love you, Pippin."
Pippin opened his mouth but no sound came. He must have looked astonished, because Merry kissed him and held him close.
"Don't worry, love, it takes some people like this at first. You'll be better in a few minutes. Just relax."
Pippin was able to nod and even managed to raise his hand to touch Merry's face. He made another attempt to speak and was able to whisper, "Love you, Merry."
"Love you, too."
"Oh, that was..." But Pippin was unable to find the words he needed.
"I know." Merry was kissing him again, his hand making small kneading movements on Pippin's hip. They rested for a few minutes and Pippin felt his strength returning. He ran his own hand over Merry's chest, tracing the path of bone and muscle, form and power.
Pippin finally found his voice. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you...?"
"Why did I make you come so soon?"
"Mmm."
"Because no one ever lasts long the first time. Because I want your first night to be long and slow and sensuous, and you need to be relaxed for it. Because I wanted to watch you, to see your face as I made you come."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Well, you didn't... I want to... umm, should I...?" Pippin couldn't believe it - he could feel his face burning red. Where was the confidence he had had half an hour ago? All he wanted to do was roll Merry onto his back and grind into him, and here he was blushing and stammering like an idiot. "Oh, Bullroarer's Balls!" he exclaimed, then took advantage of Merry's momentary astonishment to push him back into the bed and lie on top of him.
"Oof! You're heavy, Pip," Merry exclaimed as the breath was knocked out of him, but after a few moments, and a slight adjustment, he smiled and said, "No, you're not, you're just right."
"Of course I'm just right. I'm with you." Pippin wriggled up and put his arms on either side of Merry's head, then kissed him, hard and deep, exulting in the taste and the heat and the wetness. He moved his hips, slowly and carefully, and felt a thrill move through the body beneath him. He felt Merry's hands on his hips, lifting him up and adjusting his position slightly. "Mmm, just there...yes..."
This time, when he moved his hips, Pippin felt his nerves tingle and his breath catch. He looked at Merry, whose expression had changed from gentle to feral, and wondered briefly how Merry could ever have hidden this much desire from him. He felt Merry's hips roll in counterpoint to his own, and very soon they had established a rhythm that carried them up together, each pulse more intense than the last, until Pippin thought he would scream. Merry's legs had somehow worked themselves around his waist and were pulling him closer and tighter with every stroke. He could hear someone moaning, getting louder and higher in pitch, but didn't realise that it was himself until Merry pulled him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Merry reached his climax first and this time Pippin watched as Merry's face contorted and he gave a shuddering breath. The heat that bloomed on Pippin's belly was enough to send him over the edge and he felt his own release pour out.
They lay there, simply breathing, until Merry reached for the handkerchief that had already served once that night and proceeded to clean them both. Then they settled, with Pippin on his back and Merry covering him with arm and chest and leg.
Pippin's voice brought Merry out of half-slumber. "Merry?"
"Yes, love?"
"Why did you laugh?"
"When?"
"Before I untied you. You went still, and then you starting shaking, and I was afraid you were crying, but when I looked, you were laughing instead."
Merry smiled, his fingers drifting lazily over Pippin's collarbone. "I remembered something Berry said last Yule - that this would happen sooner than I wanted and later than you wanted, and that I should just let it happen. And then I suddenly realised how ridiculous I must look, tied to the bed, with you trying to make me agree to do something I desperately wanted to do anyway."
"Well, it was ridiculous. I wanted to do this months ago. You're the one who insisted on torturing yourself. Ow! Don't pinch, it isn't nice."
"I'm not nice."
"Yes, you are, lovely Merry."
"No, I'm not. Nice hobbits don't do this..."
Pippin gasped and arched up from the bed as Merry did something amazing with his tongue...
* * *
Some considerable time later, when heartbeats were returning to normal again and sweaty skin was starting to dry, Pippin suddenly chuckled. Merry threw him a questioning glance and Pippin started to explain. "Cousin Everard will be happy."
"Why is that?"
"Well, we were talking about the party next week."
Merry nodded, his hands running in lazy circles over Pippin's stomach.
"He was saying that we hadn't invited enough females and he was afraid he wasn't going to get any dances. I think he's sweet on Vinca and you know how she always wants to dance with you."
Merry did know, but had never paid it much mind. Pervinca danced very well and didn't drape herself all over him like some girls did, or sulk when he wanted to get another ale. But she wasn't the one he wanted. He let his hand drift over the chest of the one he did want, until it found a nipple and gave it a little pinch. Pippin reacted with a gasp and a slight lift of his torso, before grabbing the errant hand, kissing it, and placing it firmly on his stomach once more.
"Stop that. You're distracting me. Where was I?"
Merry's hand started circling once more. "Ev wants to dance with Vinca, who wants to dance with me. Why does that make him happy?"
"It doesn't, silly. He'll be happy because you'll be dancing with me and not with any of the girls, so there'll be more girls for him." His voice faltered for a moment. "You won't, will you?"
Merry sighed. "I'll have to dance with some of them, love. So will you. You know that."
"I don't want you to. I don't want to watch you dancing with girls."
"Would you rather I danced with boys?"
"No!"
"Thought not."
"I want you to dance with me."
Merry kissed him again while he thought about it. Sneaking off into the gardens with Pippin once everyone was tipsy was one thing; dancing with him where everyone could see them was quite another. "I think it's too much of a risk. Everyone will know exactly why we're dancing together. Don't forget that you're still very young for this and I... I'm still supposed to keep you out of trouble."
Pippin snorted. "As if you ever could! Not when I really wanted to do something. Anyway, it was your idea half the time."
Merry chuckled. "There is that." He kissed Pippin a few more times, just to keep in practice.
"But not this time. This time was my idea. I seduced you."
The simple pride in Pippin's voice was too much for Merry, who rolled over, helpless with laughter. "Oh, Pippin, I love you!"
"Well, that's good. I'd hate to think I had wasted time in seducing someone who hates me." Pippin grinned and leaned over to kiss Merry's chest before turning serious once more. "Are we really going to be in trouble?"
Merry paused. He was sure of it and he couldn't lie to Pippin, not tonight. "Some trouble, yes. You know we will. It's not as if we're just village lads. We both have positions and responsibilities, in the future if not right now. We'll both have to marry one day."
"I won't marry. They can't make me. I want to be with you forever."
"Pippin, sweetheart. If you are old enough to be my lover -" he couldn't suppress the shiver of delight that ran through him at the words, and nor could Pippin, whose face lit up in astonished realisation that he was, indeed, Merry's lover now "- you are old enough to understand that there is no point in upsetting both our families more than we must. If we are to have any chance of being together before we both come of age - and let me remind you that fifteen years is a very long time - we have to keep them convinced that this is just a tweener passion and that we'll be quite happy to marry and produce heirs when the time comes."
"I don't know if I can do that. I really don't feel anything for girls, you know. I never have."
"Well, you'll just have to pretend."
"I don't want to pretend," Pippin sighed. "We'll just have to distract them. Give them something else to think about."
"Like what?"
"We could spike the fruit cup."
"Too boring. Besides, someone tries that every year - they'll be expecting it."
"We could let the pigs out."
"Fatty and Folco did that last Lithe, and we did it ourselves three years ago."
"We could steal the fireworks and set them off early."
"Is Gandalf going to be here?"
"Oh. No, he isn't. So no fireworks to steal."
Merry sighed, then grinned and kissed Pippin's cheek. "The trouble with us, love, is that we've already done everything. There isn't anything new."
"There has to be something that no one's done before, or at least not for a long time."
"I suppose we could get Fatty drunk and put him into one of Cousin Rosamunda's dresses. That hasn't been done in a while."
"That's a good one! No, no, get Ev to wear a dress! He's the one complaining there aren't enough females. We could see how many people spot him."
"Ev? Too easy. That nose of his is unmistakable and besides, he'd make a very ugly girl. No, if you want to pass someone off as a girl, you have to start with better material." Merry paused and examined Pippin's face. "I think you'd make a very pretty lass," he teased.
"Meriadoc Brandybuck! I am not dressing up as a girl to dance with you at Overlithe!" Pippin's voice positively squeaked in indignation, and Merry had to make up for his tease with kisses and cuddles and murmurs of "No, I don't want you just because you're pretty", and then some more kisses, hard and deep, and a growly bite to the shoulder that made Pippin shudder.
It took a while before Pippin's wounded feelings were adequately soothed but then, with Tookish tenacity, his mind immediately returned to the topic at hand. "I'm still not wearing a dress. Anyway, there are others. Cousin Frodo's prettier than I am, for all he's so much older. Everybody says so, even your horrible Great-Aunt Asphodel."
There was a moment of silence, then Merry sat straight up and stared into space. "Frodo," he whispered. He looked at Pippin and Pippin looked back at him in awe. It was... perfect.
* * *
As daylight filtered through the shutters, Merry stirred. He remembered... for a moment, he wondered if it had all been a dream, but then he felt the warm body lying in his arms and realised that it had actually happened. Half-opening one eye, he saw Pippin's curls against his shoulder and smiled to himself. He tightened his arms reflexively and felt Pippin make a small movement in response.
It hadn't been a dream. Pippin was his lover. Oh, Lady bless them all, Pippin really was his lover now.
Merry pressed a kiss into the curls beside his cheek and dozed off again, thinking that of all the ways there were to wake up, this was by far the best.
* * *
When Merry woke again it was full daylight, and Pippin was gone. He was disappointed, but he realised that Pippin would have had to go back to his own room sooner or later to wash and dress. He got out of the bed and debated the relative merits of a brief wash in cold water then and there, or a somewhat risky trip to the baths for hot water. He sniffed. He could smell himself, as well as the musky scent that Pippin had left on his skin. A cold wash would be enough to get him to the bathroom without spilling the secret of his activities the night before, but he really needed a good long soak.
He was just buttoning up the breeches he had discarded so carelessly the night before when there was a brisk knock at the door. Before Merry could answer, the door opened and Pippin strode in, carrying a mug of tea. He winked at Merry before closing the door, then put the mug down and took Merry in his arms. "Good morning, love," he murmured.
"Good mor -" Merry's reply was cut short by Pippin's lips, sweet and warm on his own.
The kiss lasted until Merry said, "I need a bath, love."
Pippin sniffed, ostentatiously. "You don't smell too bad."
"That's because I just washed the worst of it off. But I still need a bath."
"Can I share it?"
"Not today." He started to let Pippin go, then stopped and pulled him close again. "I love you, you know. I'm not sorry about last night. I'm still worried about what might happen, but I'm not sorry about being your lover."
"I love you, too. And I'm glad you're not angry with me." Pippin looked down. "I did wonder, this morning, if you might change your mind."
"No, I haven't changed my mind." Merry took Pippin's face in his hands and looked steadily into his eyes. "You are still the most beautiful hobbit-lad in all the Shire, and you are the one I want in my arms and my bed." He drew Pippin in for another kiss, soft and sweet, before pulling back and turning serious. "The only thing that would make me happier is if we didn't have to hide this. You know we have to be careful, love. No kisses or hugs outside this room. No special looks or teasing remarks. We have to try and behave as we did before, try to pretend that nothing's changed."
"I know. But I don't like it."
"I don't like it either."
Pippin sighed. "Why do we keep on having to do things we don't like and not do the things we like?"
"Because we're not of age yet. Just be thankful that you can tumble when you're twenty. Imagine if you had to wait until you're thirty-three!"
Pippin looked appalled. "I'd die!"
Merry laughed. "I think I would, too." They hugged and kissed for a few minutes more, then Merry drained his tea and went off to the baths, whistling, while Pippin tackled breakfast.
* * *
After lunch, Pippin disappeared on an errand for his mother and Merry curled up in an armchair in the otherwise-deserted Green Parlour, ostensibly to read a book but seriously contemplating a nap. His thoughts drifted back over the events of the previous night and he smiled sleepily to himself. Pippin is my lover was the thought that played over and over in his head, soothing and exhilarating at the same time. Pippin is my lover...
Sudden footsteps and the sound of the parlour door woke him and he saw the face of his lover peering around the door, smiling in satisfaction.
"Ah, here you are. I thought we'd lost you." Pippin strode in, followed more slowly by Frodo.
Merry had almost forgotten their conversation of the night before and so didn't immediately understand when Pippin whispered "He'll do it" into his left ear. He looked up, startled, to see Pippin's face alive with mischief and Frodo, some distance behind him, looking rather uncomfortable.
"What did you do to him?"
Pippin grinned and dropped a lightning-quick kiss on Merry's nose. "You don't want to know." He straightened up, grinned again and said, "Must go - I have to see a girl about a dress." He was out of the door before Merry could react.
Frodo's face held an odd mixture of emotions: bemusement, chagrin, mortification and resignation, together with a suspicion of pleasant anticipation.
Merry tried again. "What did he do?"
Frodo shook his head. "None of your business, Merry-my-lad." He gathered himself together and sat down in the opposite armchair, swinging a leg over the arm and giving Merry a knowing smile. "I understand that Pippin finally persuaded you to tumble him."
Merry blushed fiery red. He didn't mind Frodo knowing about them, not really, but he wished that Pippin could at least try to be a little more discreet. "Well, yes, sort of," he managed to say.
"Sort of?" Frodo's voice reflected the sardonic amusement on his face.
Merry blushed even more and bit his lip. He knew he'd end up telling Frodo eventually, but right now he simply couldn't bear the embarrassment.
Frodo's smile grew wider and Merry prepared to defend himself from a severe bout of cousin-baiting. He'd plot his revenge on Pippin later.
* * *
Overlithe dawned cool but fair, with clear blue skies and a gentle southerly breeze. Merry woke first and was momentarily disorientated, until he remembered that this was Pippin's room. He gave a gentle nudge to the warm, sleeping figure draped over him.
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
'Mmm?" Pippin was slow to wake at the best of times, and they had spent long hours in exploring each other during the night. It took another couple of prods from Merry's finger before he opened his eyes.
"Come on, Pippin, wake up. People are going to be up and about rather soon. I'd better go."
Pippin clung to him with both arms. "Don't go. I'll get cold without you." The whisper was barely audible, but the pain in it was clear.
Merry held him tightly for another minute but then tried once more to move out of the bed.
"Pippin, love, please let me go. I don't want to leave either, but I need to get back to my own room before someone catches me.
"I know." Pippin gave an exaggerated sigh and let go, but his eyes followed Merry as his cousin got out of the bed and donned his nightgown. He couldn't suppress a groan as Merry bent over, displaying an enticingly-rounded bottom. "How many hours until tonight?"
"Too many, love." Merry smiled as his head appeared above the linen collar.
"Do you think we could have a nap after lunch?"
Merry felt the tingling response in his body and considered Pippin's suggestion. "We can try, but I'm not sure. Your mother will want us to help set up the tables."
"We'll just have to escape for an hour or two. Or three."
"And have your sisters up here looking for us?" Merry asked ruefully as he looked down at Pippin. His breath caught as he saw a hungry expression in those green eyes that had nothing to do with breakfast and everything to do with the way Pippin's body responded to his touch. He felt heat in his belly and a stirring between his legs.
"We'll lock the door," Pippin promised.
"Now that would be smart - both of us nowhere to be found and your door locked. Might as well put a sign up saying 'Merry and Pippin are Up to No Good'."
"Oh, I'm sure I could talk us out of any trouble with Nel and Vinca." Pippin smiled and reached up an arm to Merry, pulling him down for another kiss.
Merry was starting to think that it might be a good idea for him to stay a little longer, just to make sure that he would carry the taste of Pippin through the day, when they were startled by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. They remained stock still until the unknown walker passed them by and the sound faded. Merry let his breath out and stood up, wishing fervently for the time when they could lie in bed together without fear of discovery.
"Not today, love. But we'll be together again tonight, I promise."
Gathering up all his strength, Merry turned to the door and opened it a crack, peeking out to check that the coast was clear. It was and he slipped out noiselessly, leaving Pippin with only the warmth on the sheets and the lingering scent on his skin.
* * *
The Overlithe party of 1408 was one that remained green in the memory of all who attended. Many a cask was broached that night and many a troth was plighted in the groves that surrounded the party lawn. Some hearts were broken, yes, but none past repair, and there were no more babies the following Rethe than might have been expected.
For Merry and Pippin, it seemed as if the party was going to go on forever. They started out with their respective families, eating supper and drinking an ale or two (Pippin having been sternly warned by Merry that dire consequences would attend any overindulgence on his part). Once the dancing started, however, groups mingled and merged and blended, and by the end of the fifth dance it was easy for them to slip away without being noticed.
They didn't need to go far from the party lawn before the noise and light faded and they were left with the stars in the clear sky and the rustle of leaves. A gibbous moon had risen an hour before, but its pale silver light was drowned in the shadows cast by the trees and rocks.
Pippin led Merry to one of the smaller groves, dark and private, and ran over to the basket he had smuggled out earlier. Inside was a woollen blanket, a jug of ale, and several handkerchiefs. He set aside the jug and spread the blanket on the ground before looking back at Merry with a shy smile.
"My clever Pippin," murmured Merry with approval, and took Pippin into his arms. The hours since that morning had seemed interminable, but all frustration was forgotten as their lips met and their bodies moulded into each other. Merry's breath caught as Pippin's tongue slipped past his teeth and into his mouth, and he felt the surge of desire that still took him by surprise.
"I love you, Pippin."
"I love you, Merry, now stop wasting time and tumble me." Pippin's fingers were already busy with the buttons on Merry's waistcoat.
Merry laughed and let his hands drop to Pippin's hips. He nuzzled at a sensitive ear, and his voice dropped until it resembled a purr. "One of these days, love, I'm going to teach you the value of taking your time. I'm going to touch you, let you feel it, let you remember it and then make you wait, make you anticipate, make you wonder where I'll touch you again. I'll kiss every single inch of your skin, from your head to your toes. I'll make love to you slowly, so slowly that you'll feel every tiny movement, even my heartbeat. An hour... or two... until you finally reach your release, and you'll remember every second of it." He felt the shiver that ran through Pippin's body at his words and shivered himself as Pippin undid the last of his shirt buttons and slid his hands around Merry's flanks.
"Oh, Merry, Merry... not slow, not tonight."
Pippin's tone was anxious, which Merry didn't find at all surprising, not when he could feel Pippin's hardness pressing against his groin. "Not tonight, love." His fingers made quick work of Pippin's buttons and soon they were lying naked against each other. The air was cool and Merry was glad of the blanket that shielded them from the damp ground. He moved down to explore that particularly sweet-tasting patch of skin on Pippin's thigh he had discovered yesterday and had to place an arm over Pippin's hips to hold him still as he reacted to the touch. Pippin's arousal was already wet and gleaming at the tip and Merry grinned to himself, knowing that it was largely due to his teasing that Pippin was in such a state.
He took hold of the shaft, and Pippin yelped softly.
"Oh Merry, please..."
"Hush, love, I will." He bent his mouth to the tip and gave it a slow, gentle lick, letting the sharp-sweet-musky taste fill his mouth. Essence of Pippin, his mind's voice murmured. He opened his mouth and took the whole length, feeling it slide across his palate and into his throat. Pippin shuddered under him, and Merry pressed down with his free arm again. His mouth and hand moved slowly at first, but Pippin's urgent whimpers drove him on and soon he was rewarded with the rush of fluid into his mouth as Pippin arched up and gave a strangled cry. He swallowed, noting the slightly bitter aftertaste, and made sure that Pippin had relaxed before pulling away.
Pippin reached for him as he moved up. "I want to do that to you."
"You will." Merry kissed him, sweeping his tongue through Pippin's mouth and chuckling as Pippin registered the taste. "But it takes practice. I'll have to tell you and show you what to do at first, so maybe it would be better to leave it until we're back in bed. For now," Merry took hold of Pippin's hand and placed it on his stiff erection, "I want your hand, I want your touch."
"Oh, yes," Pippin breathed, and closed his fist around the hard shaft, pulling up firmly.
Merry groaned: Pippin's touch was right on the border between pleasure and pain. He rolled over onto his back and felt Pippin settling against him before resuming his actions. He could feel Pippin's hand as it ran up and down, the thumb rubbing the tip at the apex of each stroke and Pippin adding an occasional twist, until Merry was writhing and ready. A few more hard, quick strokes and he came over Pippin's hand, not crying out, just gasping, then sighing as his body relaxed.
He heard, rather than saw, Pippin grabbing a handkerchief to clean his hand and Merry's thigh. Merry smiled dreamily at him, his eyes not really focussing, then let his gaze drift up to the stars above them. He loved looking at the stars, watching them turn around the sky each night, seeing how their positions changed with the seasons. They were always the same, no matter what the year brought. They didn't change in flood or famine or bountiful harvest. They simply were: eternal, everlasting, unchanging. They made him feel at once secure and insignificant.
"Sometimes, when I look up at the sky, I think I can see into forever." His voice was soft and awed.
Pippin rolled over and looked up. "Where's the Swordsman?" he asked.
Merry felt a bubble of laughter welling up inside him. Eternal truths were not confined to the stars, after all: philosophy would never hold Pippin's attention, not if he lived longer than the Old Took. "It's already set. You only see it in the evening in summer. But the Butterfly is still there - look."
"Yes, I see it. Where's the Sickle?"
Merry pointed to the north, where the sky was still washed with indigo. "There. You can always see it, no matter what the season. The star at the end of the blade -"
"-is the Pole Star. I know that."
"Well, don't forget it. If you ever get lost at night, it will tell you where north is."
"If I spend all my nights with you, I won't ever get lost."
"We might get lost together."
"You'd find our way home, I know you would."
Merry wrapped his arms around Pippin, pleased beyond measure at Pippin's unswerving confidence. Maybe Pippin had something better than philosophy, after all.
They lay there for some minutes until they were alerted by the sound of footsteps and giggles as another couple passed by their glade.
"Come on, sweeting." Merry sat up. "Time to get dressed and go back to the party."
Pippin nodded and they dressed quickly and quietly. The blanket was shaken out and rolled up before being restowed in the basket. They hadn't even touched the ale, but Merry decided to leave it there for the time being. One more kiss, then Merry gave Pippin a push. "You go back now and I'll follow in a couple of minutes."
Pippin ran off and Merry finished tidying himself up before heading back through the trees towards the party lawn.
"Merry." The quiet voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned and saw Berilac leaning up against a tree, slightly tousled but more-or-less fully-dressed.
"Hello, Berry, I didn't see you there."
"I know. You also didn't see several other people who headed in this direction over the last half-hour." He pushed himself away from the tree and took a couple of steps in order to stand just in front of Merry. "I know that young Pippin can be very persuasive, but I think that you need to avoid outdoor activities until such time as your liaison has parental blessing."
Merry felt the chill of apprehension in his chest. "They didn't see us, did they?"
"No, I managed to divert them towards another glade. One that, coincidentally, gave them more than enough food for thought... and gossip." He smiled wickedly. "Dear Cousin Frodo was carried off, blue dress and all, by the impressively strong Samwise."
Merry was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Well, good for Sam!"
"Indeed, I imagine it was good for Frodo as well. I must admit, it came as a surprise to me - I had no idea he held such... umm... bucolic interests."
His voice held the hint of a sneer and Merry was quick to come to Sam's defence. "Don't be so mean - Sam's a good sort. Actually, I'm pleased. I know Frodo's lusted after him for years, but I always thought that Sam liked lasses."
"It appears that Sam has broadened his horizons. I can't say that I blame him, mind you - Frodo in blue is an enticing prospect."
Merry giggled and was about to make a teasing reply when they were diverted by the sound of a crash followed by a roar of laughter. Obviously, someone had upset a table or a barrel.
Berry looked towards the noise, but they couldn't see anything. "I think we'd better get back to the party. Care to walk with me?" He held out his hand.
Merry grinned - a little misdirection would be very useful. "Why not? Though if Pippin gets upset, I may need to beg your help again."
"Anytime, pet." Berry gave him a wink, and Merry was giggling again as they left the trees and rejoined the party. As chance would have it, Saradoc was looking in his direction as they came into view and Merry felt himself blushing as he realised that his father thought that he was returning from a tryst with Berry. Oh well, it was better than the truth.
* * *
Second Lithe was subdued. Most people had had too much to drink and too little sleep the night before to have the energy to do anything at all. Some of the guests had left already - Frodo and Sam among them - and the rest were snoozing or lazing around in armchairs, storing up strength for the busy season that was about to start.
The tweenage girls gathered in Pimpernel's room, going over every moment of the evening and exchanging secrets. Pimpernel had decamped early with her playmate and so was making earnest enquiries about everything that had happened after her departure. Pervinca and Melilot had danced almost every dance (the last couple with each other) and were curled up together on the sofa, exhausted but happy.
Amaryllis was torn between sulking and gloating: she had failed in her attempt to take a kiss from Berry (thus forfeiting a substantial portion of next quarter's allowance to Pervinca), or even Merry, her second choice, but had spent some pleasant hours with Ferdibrand Took. He had shown a proper appreciation of her charms and she had granted him a kiss after their third dance. Her mother had been pleased, too, since a respectable cousin of the Took and Thain (even if he was only a second cousin once removed and eight years off his majority) was preferable to the scandal-ridden nephew of the Master of Buckland.
Mentha, sitting quietly in a corner chair with her customary embroidery, listened to the chatter and smiled to herself. She had had three dances, two of them with Folco Boffin, and had sat talking with him afterwards. He was good company and had even kissed her goodnight - she had blushed, though he couldn't see it in the lamplight. She looked forward to seeing him again. The Yale wasn't too far for him to ride to Brandy Hall once a month or so, and there was always a birthday or a wedding to fill the gap between Lithe and Yule.
Vinca was sleepy and her eyes closed from time to time, but she managed to maintain an ear on the conversation which, in the manner of feminine conversation everywhere, ranged back and forth through a dozen topics in an intricately-webbed pattern. Naturally, the sudden and somewhat shocking liaison between Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee was one of the principal subjects. The Baggins line was fast becoming eccentric enough to rival the Tooks - that was no news at all - but the involvement of a heretofore respectable and stolid village hobbit was sufficiently unusual to titillate the most jaded of gossips. Ah well, thought Vinca, Cousin Frodo deserves a little fun from time to time. And it looks like no one but me noticed my idiotic little brother sneaking off with Merry, so that's all right.
* * *
Pippin, Merry and Berry took their ponies out after second breakfast (none of them having risen in time for the first) and spent a pleasant couple of hours riding over the hills that surrounded Tuckborough. To no one's surprise, Pippin had brought a pannier of food that was generous enough to serve them for both elevenses and lunch. They let the horses rest in a glade beside a pond, while they lay on the south face of the slope and soaked up the warm summer sun.
Pippin was soon asleep, but Merry sat up, chewing on a grass stem and running over the events of the past few days in his head.
Berry ran a hand down his back. "What's wrong, pet?"
"I keep worrying about things. About Pippin and me."
"That's understandable."
"I can't help thinking that they'll separate us if they find out. It frightens me. I love Pippin so much I honestly don't think I'd survive if we were separated, or if I had to leave Brandy Hall."
Berry sat up, looking concerned, but his voice remained non-committal. "It's surprising what you can live through, when there isn't any alternative."
Merry felt ashamed. Here he was, worrying about something that might never happen, when Berry had actually had to live through it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you..."
"Don't worry. It was all a very long time ago. I barely remember it myself."
"That's not true."
"Well, allow me to pretend it is." Berry grabbed a handful of grass stems and began twisting them into a plait. "Look, Merry, I don't think it'll turn out to be that bad. The situation isn't the same. Pippin's already older now than I was when I left the Hall, and every month will take him closer to twenty. You're both heirs to prominent positions, not anonymous cousins. And, most importantly, Grandpa Rory isn't the Master any more. I honestly don't think that you'd be sent away, either of you. But if it comes to that, let me know, and I'll do what I can for you. They'd listen to me. They owe me that."
"Thank you," Merry whispered, grateful that Berry had offered to help.
"Don't mention it." Berry hugged him, then lay back down and closed his eyes. "Wake me for supper."
"I think Pippin will wake us both."
"You're probably right." He yawned. "I think I'm getting too old for all-night parties."
"Poor old thing. I'll give you a walking stick for my birthday."
"Not unless you want one of Cousin Hilda's ghastly knitted things for Yule."
Merry laughed. "You wouldn't do that, you like me too much."
"You're probably right, but don't tempt me." Berry ran a hand up and down Merry's back a couple of times, then yawned again. He crooked an arm over his eyes and was asleep in a couple of minutes.
Merry stared at the horizon for some time, wondering what would happen to them all. He had no confidence whatsoever that his new relationship with Pippin would stay a secret for long. For one thing, too many people knew already, and for another, neither he nor Pippin could stop looking at each other. Someone was bound to notice.
He looked down at the lad beside him and felt the foolish, adoring smile that came over his face. He lay down on his side, head propped on his elbow, and touched Pippin's lips with his finger. Pippin stirred, but didn't wake. Merry smiled again, then rolled onto his back.
Ah, well. If Elbereth was inclined to help them - and the evidence so far was that she was - everything would turn out all right in the end. He closed his eyes and slept.