By: Dana
Summary: Pippin and Merry in the Houses of Healing.
Characters: Pippin, Merry (others mentioned)
Pairings: Frodo/Merry
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, gratuitous use of Pippin
Author's Notes: I am a massive big fan of Carole's (as Daffodil Bolger) Counterpoint, as some of you might have already known. And this is fanfic based on a fanfic, as some of you might have already guessed.
This is an addendum to Cadenza, which can be found at the Counterpoint index. Because of what it is, it contains possible spoilers for that chapter (which is rather obvious, I know).
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Accompaniment: music that goes along with a more important part; often harmony or rhythmic patterns accompanying a melody.

Pippin never has thought himself impatient, though there are others who have, and for the most he had thought they simply didn't know what they were thinking. He knows he trusts Aragorn, and he trusts Gandalf, too, mostly because if he doesn't trust them, then he doesn't know who he would be able to trust. Well, he can trust himself, as he doesn't think he's crazy yet - and he has stood at Gandalf's side since they had came in from the City, and he has watched Aragorn tend first Faramir, and then Éowyn, and he doesn't know what is going on with Merry, and the scent of athelas should be refreshing but he's almost sick with it, and his worry.

Merry would probably just laugh at him and say he'd been foolish, but it's been too long and he'd seen Merry, anyhow, he'd been the one to find him out wandering in the City. Pippin doesn't think he'll forget that, doesn't think he ever could, because he's certain he's never been that frightened. Scared, yes, and even terrified, but never that frightened, and Aragorn hasn't yet got to Merry, and Merry is still waiting, and it's almost as if Aragorn has forgotten that he is. Pippin is this close to just snapping and telling Aragorn to hurry up.

Merry shouldn't have to wait. And Pippin shouldn't have to worry. And Pippin never has thought himself impatient, but he's thinking that now. At least, that must be what Gandalf is thinking, though Gandalf hasn't even said a word.

Aragorn murmurs something, and Éowyn wakes, and her eyes are bold and grey and clear, and Pippin frowns and bites at his lip. Well, there she is, and she's awake, and well enough, too, so shouldn't we be moving on? But they don't, not away, and Aragorn hovered and he waited, and Pippin knows he's not as impatient as some say he is, but now he feels that he is.

Knowing how Merry is, and knowing that Merry is well, is the most important thing to him and should be the most important thing to Aragorn, too, because - because that's what Pippin thinks, for what good or ill that might do. When Aragorn does go from Éowyn's healing room, intent on Merry's, Pippin doubles his pace when he follows after.

He hasn't thought that Merry might die, but when he sees his cousin, cold and pale as stone, he thinks that he might, and it's more frightening than anything else, anything that has come before. And that's funny, isn't it, because he'd thought he'd seen the most frightening that he could, only now - only now he knows that's not it, that it's not right.

Merry has be well, Pippin tells himself, because how else will he be able to box him upside the head and tell him to never worry him like that, and never do something so foolish that would almost certainly kill him?

But Merry's not dead, and Pippin coughs when the scent of athelas fills the room, and he rubs at his eyes and he hopes that he'll not weep, because if he starts crying now, then he's going to sob.

He's been alone but this would be different. And it isn't that Merry has always been there, but what would he tell Frodo, when Frodo came back? He has been thinking in absolutes, and Frodo's return (and Sam's, too), had been as conclusive as Merry's.

They would both, all, be coming back.

Pippin coughs again and he blinks against his tears and he takes Merry's hand in his and when Merry opens his eyes, Pippin isn't certain of the noise he's made, other than it being a rather choked sound of relief. Merry's eyes were pale, too clear, and he looked about the room, and his gaze rather slowly seemed to focus on Pippin. He didn't speak, not right away at any length, and Aragorn drew his hand from Merry's brow.

Merry had too much stubborn pride, and Merry would never let him think that he was hurt, even when Pippin would have been rather thick to think anything else. And Merry coughs, and it's pained, and his eyes begin to close. "I am hungry. What is the time?"

Pippin really should have boxed him upside the head, for that, but he tells the time anyhow, and promises him that he'll bring him food. Merry smiles at that, and even Gandalf seems cheered, and Merry's name was held in honour, and of course it should have, though Pippin felt lax to let loose Merry's hand.

When they left him alone, Pippin thought at last they Merry might talk, but Merry didn't. At least, what he said didn't make much sense, and his face clouds over like it had when he had mentioned Théoden King. "Move over, Merry," Pippin says, and then he climbs up into the bed and he joins his cousin, and he doesn't know whether he should hug him, or shake him. Perhaps he should do both. "You're not making all that much sense."

"I don't feel like I should."

"Well, don't for the time, if that's what you want. But I have time, and I have no duty, so I'll stay here with you. I hope you don't mind."

Merry seems tired, very, very tired, and Pippin watched the lines of his face - it seems as though he had aged, since they had last been together. Pippin finds his voice, at last. "I don't think it would matter, even if I did."

"It wouldn't."

"Well, this wouldn't be the first time."

"No."

Pippin almost thinks that Merry might speak, and at least he doesn't speak - that gives Pippin more than needed time, and he can think. He would like to tell Merry something of Frodo, and almost thinks it a part of his duty. Still, what can he tell him, that might give him some hope? He has heard it all himself, and even hearing it had not given him hope of his own. "They spoke of Frodo," he says, and at that, Merry stirs. His eyes widen, and color seemed to touch, light upon his cheeks. "Gandalf was there when Faramir spoke of him - Faramir is the Lord of the City's son. And Boromir's brother," and he almost stumbles there, but continues to speak. "It had been three days, then, but seven days, now. Frodo left him, and went further into the east."

Now Merry seemed roused. "Tell me more," he says, and Pippin does, though Merry stops and questions him when he can. Questioned again, though Pippin can't tell how long it goes on - but for the length of it, Merry seems awake, and focused.

When he settles back, he is tired again, and he still seems old, but it almost feels as though he is - closer, than he'd been, and Pippin is glad for that. Too much gloom has weighed on his spirits, and Merry's, too. But for the moment, he almost seems content, and at peace. Knowing Merry, Pippin doubts that it will linger. But he would only add kindling to flame it he told Merry of Gandalf's worry, knowing where Frodo and Sam had been heading to - Cirith Ungol, the Morgul Vale.

"He's alive," Merry says. Pippin can hear the relief in his voice, and it seems a tangible thing. He almost wants to reach out and embrace his cousin, himself, but he doesn't. "And Sam, do you think he's still with him?"

"He is."

"Good. As it should be, I think." Then, Merry pauses, and appears to lose himself in thought. When he rouses once again, he shares a small smile. "I should like to speak to Faramir, I think."

"Well, he rests, and you should, too. But I reckon you'll speak with him, in time."

"You sound like your mother, Pippin," Merry says. "But you might be right."

"That has been known to happen," Pippin replies. Then, he takes Merry's hand, once more, and Merry drew back from him, seemed to relent. Was Merry as tired as he felt? Perhaps this was his own exhaustion that he felt. "Why did you do it, Merry? And what did you do? Gandalf told me, but I don't know if I understand it fully, and I think I might feel better about it all if you would just tell me for yourself. And you owe it to me, I think. I have answered your questions, and it would be fitting and proper if you were to answer mine."

"We all have choices, you know," Merry says, and by then Pippin has taken to rubbing Merry's hand. "We do, and I made one, and it's as simple as that." Well, Pippin knows what that's like, when he'd made more than one of his own, though Merry and Frodo both had thought that they'd known better than he. Well, he'd shown then, at least, he was sure he'd shown Merry, at least. He doesn't know what Merry would have done on his own, when they'd been in the care of the Orcs. He knows Merry well enough, at least, to know without having to ask that Merry would have thought it for the best if he'd not been brought along. They could have talked of that, at least, and Pippin's had time to think about it, and think about it more. Maybe he's taking after Merry, at long last, if he's thinking on things too much.

He's said nothing, and Merry hasn't seemed to mind, and Merry is tired and sad and isn't acting like Merry at all, and Pippin will have to hit him if he doesn't come out of it, and soon. "You'll tell me no more?" he asks, and hopes that Merry will answer.

"No more. I'm sorry, you know."

"What for? Well, other than being stubborn. You're no more stubborn than me."

Merry laughs at that, probably because he can't help himself, and he turns Pippin's hand over and his face is pained when he squeezes. Pippin frowns, and he covers Merry's hand with both of his own.

"I've been worrying you. I shouldn't."

"And that would be like telling the Sun not to rise. I think I worry about you far more than you think, else we'd not be here, Merry." He looks away, and then he gives Merry's hand - and it's faintly cool, and that bothers Pippin and maybe he should go after Aragorn, though perhaps Aragorn shouldn't ever have left - a squeeze, and he smiles because there's not much that can keep a smile from his face. "And we are here, and you're not as hungry as you should be, and you want to sleep, and you want to - "

"What else do I want?"

"I don't know. But if you're tired, then you should sleep, and I can go ask after food. I think Gandalf knows what he's talking of, and that there will be food for you, and more. You're something of a hero, from all that I've heard."

"I - yes."

"If I could have seen you, well, I would have liked. But if you ever want to speak of it, well, you know there's nothing you can't tell me. Actually, I'd rather you not not tell me, and I know you better than you probably think I do."

"Oh, I know you do. And I do want to sleep."

"Well then, do. At least for a while."

Merry does, though Pippin doesn't move from the bed and he keeps hold of Merry's hand as he sleeps. It seems that it's a troubled slumber, that Merry must dream, and Pippin slides his hand over Merry's brow. He wants to take away the trouble, he wants Merry to know that he's not alone and if he's thinking that that is what he deserves, then Pippin will do more than just hit him. But then Pippin thinks of Frodo, and he wonders at what sky his very dear cousin must be beneath, and if it's so different than this one that is so dark. At least he has Sam, and Pippin trusts Sam, knows Sam will keep Frodo well, even if Frodo is too blasted stubborn and doesn't always know when something, or someone, is for his best good. Well, he's no more stubborn than Merry (well, perhaps he is), and Pippin's come to settle on that being one of the reasons why he loves them both so much. Still, it does irritate him, too, for all its worth.

It's later than it should be when he does go from bed, and he goes wandering through the house and he speaks with an underling of the Warden, and then he speaks to the Warden, too, but by then he knows that food will be brought and he goes back to Merry, and Merry is still sleeping. But he goes knowing that Aragorn has told the Warden that Merry will be well enough to rise, for a little at least if that is what he wants. Merry had seemed cheerful enough when Aragorn had attended him, and before Gandalf, too, but he's not cheerful and Pippin knows too well.

He knows too much and he's getting rather sick of it all. He doesn't know what he'll be meant to do.

But he goes back to Merry, and he waits and he thinks he's now more patient than he's ever, ever been, and Merry sleeps on and the morning drags on, and lights the sky beyond the sharp, thin windows. He didn't join Merry in the bed, sat at the side of it instead in a chair that was far too big for him, and he didn't know he slept until it was Merry's voice who was waking him.

"They've brought us food," Merry says, and Pippin does then join him in the bed, and he's careful of the tray. They eat, Pippin because he's hungry and Merry because it seems like the thing that Pippin wants him to do, and Pippin wants Merry to talk to him, too, but he sees no sign of Merry letting him in.

Oh, he shouldn't take this, but he's still got the thought and the image in his mind of Merry looking almost dead, and he'll not forget that for a time, a long one, he reckons. Merry matters too much to him, for all that Merry is obstinate and a pain. Loves him too much, and how could he not? Pippin thinks he's tried, but he failed. There's no need for him to try for that again.

He tells him of what the Warden says, and Merry would like to leave the room and the bed and Pippin tells him of the gardens, and Pippin is the one who helps Merry from the bed, though he doesn't try and make it look like he is openly giving his help. Not that it seems that Merry would mind, and when they go out to the gardens and the sun is shining, at least for the time, and there has been a break in all the gloomy grey. Pippin almost feels like everything is all right, or that it will be.

Legolas and Gimli join them for a time, and they all did talk, Legolas and Gimli more than Merry and Pippin, though Pippin had hoped that Merry might open up. But it was good to hear word from the two, at least, and Pippin was nearly content. As content as he could be, when he knew the city might have passed through the battle but there was still the war to end. Hadn't Denethor said something about that, before he had - before he had died. You may triumph on the fields of the Pelennor for a day, but against the Power that has now arisen there is no victory. Yes, he had, and Pippin recalls it too clearly.

It was all so dark.

They go in from the gardens and Merry goes to sleep, like he doesn't want to face being awake and Pippin doesn't know what would make Merry feel like that, and Merry's not talking to him and he's getting to the end of his patience when it comes to that. He decides that he'll say something, but when Merry next wakes, but before Merry next wakes Aragorn comes to look in on him, and check him over and, yes, he is well enough, though it will do him best to stay in bed.

And that's when Aragorn tells Pippin about the decision that has been made, that in two days in the morning they will be marching to the Black Gate, and Pippin is a soldier of Gondor, and he should be there because of that, but also because he is the only one who could go there, to stand for the Shire. Pippin says he will, and that he's honoured, and Aragorn leaves him and Merry, and Merry sleeps on. Pippin doesn't tell Merry, not when he's still sleeping and not when he's again awake, and he thinks and knows that that he should tell him, but what could he say? He thinks he knows what Merry will say, and Merry will be angry, and hurt, but Merry is still hurt.

Pippin thinks it's time enough that he takes care of Merry, though he can only imagine how Merry will react, and Pippin doesn't see him smiling and then laughing. And if Merry asks him, he'll just say he'd made his choice, and that he'd made Merry's, too.

It's dark out still and Merry is awake, and he's not as pale as he's been but he's still tired, and the sky is black out and there is fire in the east, and only then does Pippin talk Merry into talking. "If you tell me about Théoden King, then I will tell you of the Steward Denethor," and that is a proper exchange and Théoden sounded as though he had been as fine as Aragorn can be, and Merry's face is stricken when he hears of Denethor. Merry doesn't seem to want to mention the Witch King, but he does, and he speaks of Weathertop like it was just the day before and not months behind. And Merry says he's sorry, again, like he did something to Pippin directly, and how can Pippin understand, if Merry won't tell him what it is? But Merry still won't, and doesn't, and Pippin is more frustrated now that he's been for a long while. When they are through talking, Merry sleeps again, and Pippin knows that the time is short, now, and it hurts his throat and his heart, and he didn't think that it would hurt this much. Funny, he shouldn't have thought that he'd just be able to go.

It's for the best that he's looking after Merry. But the second morning has come, though day is not yet day, and Pippin takes Merry's hand and he kisses it, and then he strokes his hand back gently through Merry's hair, thinking at least he might give some distraction, and it might help Frodo come back to Merry.

Merry is awake, and Pippin hadn't notice, and Merry slowly grabs hold of Pippin's hand. Very tired, yes, but his hold is firm. And Merry says, "What are you on about, Pippin?"

Pippin smiles, as cheerfully as he can, though it's not as cheerful as it could have been. He doesn't feel it, and his heart almost feels sick. "I'm going to have to leave you, Merry. But it should only be for a short while, and then I'll be back."

Merry frowns, closes his eyes, and his face clouds with old pain but then it clears. "What have you not told me? What are you keeping from me, Pippin?"

There's too much for Pippin to say. "You can be angry all you want, but if you won't tell me your full story, then I can only do what I have to do, Merry. Anyhow, I'll be back, and soon enough, and then I'll tell you all about it. And if you want to go and shout, then do it at Aragorn. He'll find it easier to keep you pinned in bed. You're hurt, Merry, and I have to keep you safe for Frodo, or else I don't think he'll forgive me. No, I think he would, as he wouldn't blame me, but I very well wouldn't be free from blaming myself."

"Pippin - "

Pippin hadn't cried when he had thought Merry might die, though he almost had, and Merry almost had, too. But Pippin cries now, though he's not aware of it at first, and tears slide warm and wet down his cheeks. He rubs a hand through it, and then he laughs softly and he chokes a little and he presses his mouth to Merry's hand and bows his head and lets the tears fall. Merry sits up in bed and he seems now to be more awake than he's been in a long time, and wouldn't know be when he finally did, when Pippin was having to leave?

"I have to leave you," he whispers. "Can't you see I'm dressed to go to war?"

And he is, though he'd had little duty but to tend to Merry for the last three days. He hadn't minded it, and he doesn't still, but Merry clutches at his hand and he gasps and then he shakes his head, and he hisses, "No!"

"We're marching on the Black Gates. If we don't, then Frodo won't have a chance, and then he'll never make it back. If he makes it back to you, then at least you'll both take good care of one another, though you'll be lost without me. I'll have to come back, too."

"You can't be serious, Pippin. You can't go on your own."

"Oh, I won't be going all on my own," Pippin says, as though he doesn't mean what Merry means - and Merry seems to think that, too.

"That isn't what I mean, Pippin. You know that isn't what I mean."

"Well, I can't say that matters much, Merry. You're hurt, and Aragorn won't let you - no, more importantly, I won't let you, won't let you run off and get yourself hurt, all over again. And don't think I can't stop you, Meriadoc - because I will. I'll tie you down myself, if I must."

"You - no! I won't let this happen. You aren't - if I'm not there, then I can't - you don't see, Pippin, you don't know. You aren't going off, when Frodo - "

"Is that it? Of course it is. You can't look after me, and you can't look after Frodo. But can't you trust me - trust me, and the army that I'll be with - that we can take care of him, too? At least - do something. I don't reckon all that well what Aragorn is planning, only that this is for Frodo."

Pippin levels his gaze on Merry, and Merry glares back, hard. Roused now, Merry sits forward, and Pippin thinks that he'll force his own way. But Pippin meant it, himself - he'll tie Merry down on his own, if he must, or sit on him until Aragorn comes running, to - to whatever end that might lead to. But still - Merry speaks, and there is fire in his eyes, and in his voice. "Pippin, no - my sword, give me my…" Merry closes his eyes, and puts his hand to his face. Burned to ash on the wind, that fire has faded away. Merry is struggling, whether to shout or to concede. Pippin hasn't even seen Merry like this - so opened, so worn. And then he speaks again, as though he's reached his conclusions, and he's not certain of them, not one bit. "It's gone now, isn't it? It's all burned up. I'll be no help to you, will I? You've no choice but to leave me behind."

"Merry, love…"

It hurts Pippin now because Merry isn't acting like Merry, like he doesn't know how to act like Merry, and Pippin squeezes his hand and brushes his fingers over his cheek, and he hadn't his own tears and he hadn't noticed Merry's, either. He says what he thinks he should, then, because he doesn't know what other comfort he could offer. Not even promising that he would, yes, he would come back.

He had thought Merry would argue more, but Merry now seems like a shadow of himself.

"You're not a failure, not of any kind. And you're the bravest hobbit I know."

Merry doesn't lift his gaze, not that Pippin thought he would, and Pippin leans close and kisses Merry's brow, letting the touch linger. "Farewell," he whispers, and his eyes sting. Then, he turns away and he pulls on his gloves, leaving Merry behind, even as he blinks away the tears that have gathered in his eyes. This isn't how Pippin thought it would happen, but he isn't all that surprised as he could have been, by this turn of events.

When he stands out in the morning light, and Minas Tirith is painted red and grey and yellow-gold, it almost feels that Merry must watch him, so at least Pippin has left him knowing that Merry is still strong enough to stand on his own feet.