By: Dana
Summary: So, how do you like the Lithe celebrations here at Great Smials?
Characters: Pippin, Merry, Estella
Pairings: Merry/Estella/Pippin
Rating: R
Warnings: Het, slash, etc, pile - bad
Author's Notes: Wow, this is old, and bad.
fanfic100: Prompt: Summer (#63). Words: 3,268
59/100.
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.

"Whatever happened to Frodo? I thought you said he meant to join."

Merry thinks on that, and Estella watches him as he does, and as he watches his reflection where it ripples in the surface of his mug of ale. Then Merry downs the mug full in one go, and he gasps in satisfaction after, settling back against the broad bole of the old oak. The sun is out, and the sky is mostly clear, and the sound of faint merry-making is distant at best. There are trees all about them, and while the sky is mostly clear, it is only visible through open, narrow patches in the green above. And Merry says, but only at length: "Oh, I think I saw Freddy dragging him off," and then he sets the emptied mug down in the tall grass at his side.

Pippin, who is sitting very close at Merry's hand, snorts into his mug and splashes ale all down his front. "Oh, now look and see what you've made me do," he says, laughing still as he quite ineffectively tries to wipe down his coat. Merry snickers, and Pippin glares at him but then he giggles, which makes him glare even harder than he had before. Estella, who's been sitting with them all along for all that they'd forgotten she was there, tries to look affronted, though it doesn't work that well when she can't hide her own grin. When she'd first found them back at the party, they'd both been flustered and Pippin's buttons had been all out of order. But she talked them into dancing (and they'd both danced with her, at the same time), and she'd fixed the buttons of Pippin's coat between one rousing song, and the next. And that had been, oh, hours before. And after that, before Merry and Pippin had acted as if they'd sneak her off into the woods, they'd danced even more.

"I don't see what's so funny, Pippin," she says, and steals the mug from his hand, and a smug look settles on her sweet lips as she leans into Merry's side. Merry mutters something, pleasantly, and his arm slides about her waist and, in turn, settles at her hip.

"That's because it's your brother that's done the dragging and our cousin who's been dragged off." That said, and while he was still grinning and too much drink shows clear eyes, Pippin's hand settles at her knee. But Tooks are enough alike to Brandybucks, she thinks, and breathe drink like a fish would water, or other sensible hobbits might air.

"Oh, he's my cousin, too," Estella says, and she takes a drink from Pippin's mug (a long drink and when she's through, Pippin's mug is emptied much as Merry had drained his own), and then wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was - oh, you," and she giggles as Pippin's hand begin to boldly inch. And Pippin only grins, as is his wont, and they well enough know Pippin's wont.

"So, how do you like the Lithe celebrations here at Great Smials?" Pippin asks, smiling perhaps too sweetly. Merry chuckles, nuzzling elderberry-dark curls, and kisses Estella's neck. Pippin is relentless: "Did you like the Fair best, or was it the partying, or the dancing? I really do want to know." Estella can only groan, though only a little, and Merry's hand shifts, pressing up her side and inching with such assured precession that Estella feels she might just up and fly from her skin. Pippin's fingers have tangled themselves in the lace hem of Estella's dress, and as he pushes it up, he shows off fair skin, and his fingers inch along after. Estella groans, and louder than before.

"I think I'm warming to them," Estella says, and she slides away from Merry, though his arm is still settled about her hips, and sets her mouth to Pippin's even as his fingers stumble at her knee. Against Estella's mouth, Pippin laughs, and then he groans.

Somehow, Estella had not lost her grip on the old mug, but her fingers seem to numb and the mug drops with a soft thump, and Pippin winds both his arms about her and presses up close, his knees having found their way to rest between her legs. Her skirt is hitched up, and she hiccoughs and then laughs, and Merry presses his mouth to her pulse, and he kisses and then sucks, and Estella laughs again, softer, and trembles when Pippin smiles against her parted lips. "I am beginning to feel that this had been planned, and all along."

"Oh, you never would guess it, would you? But Merry's not near as devious as you might think."

Pippin swallows her laugh when his mouth presses full against hers, when he licks her lips and flicks his tongue deeper. The pressure is a pleasant humming, and Pippin's hand is warm as it moves above her knee. Merry's mouth slides over Pippin's, fingers threading, and Merry noses Estella's cheek. She breaks off from kissing Pippin, and there Merry is, warm and waiting for her, and she tilts her head and closes her eyes, and sets her mouth against his. Their hands loosen, and - Merry grabs hold of fabric and pulls back, and Pippin's touch is light, light, almost too light. The noise Estella makes is a startled one, and it's pressed hard against Merry's mouth, and that shock sparks hot through her when Pippin's fingers press into her.

And Pippin laughs, though his voice is low and hot, against her jaw. "Oh, Stella. It seems you came prepared."

Estella lets loose a small laugh, and she wants to move but it's hard when Pippin's fingers are pressed into her, teasing. And harder, when Merry's mouth is on her and his hands are pressing up her sides and - she swallows, and she concentrates, which is a trial when Merry's fingers are so intent on undoing her laces, and Pippin's fingers are -

Oh.

She has known about them forever, of course she has, though she lives farther from Great Smials than she does at Brandy Hall, and spends more of her time there than at the former. But Merry and Pippin, oh, they're known, and if anything, she always had known they'd be good with their kisses. Free with them, too.

"Well, given the company," she manages at last, and muffles her laughing moan against Pippin's shoulder. "Oh."

Pippin's fingers are moving, circling and then squeezing, and Estella closes her eyes tight and breathes, feels, wanting to move herself in time to the pulsing of Pippin's touch.

There's a rustle of hair and cloth and the wet sound of kissing, and it's warm and very close at her ear. She can hear them, feel their breath, and Pippin is steady and even and his touch is unrelenting. And Merry's hand, they press against bare skin, and Estella wonders how they managed that, and how they managed all her laces - but her bodice is undone and Merry's hands are warm and moving - sliding over her breast, touching, teasing, but then one is sliding, and lower, lower. Estella breathes out, moans, spreads her legs wider, and she can feel them both and she's dizzy. Like Merry's hand had before, his fingers join Pippin's, pushing into slick wet heat, and Estella almost cries out, shaken and stunned. They press hard and then harder, deeper, and while Merry might have stumbled, his rhythm matches Pippin's - a rhythm that is never lost - no, it just builds into something more, as though it wants to burst.

And it does want to, and it's building to it faster and harder, and Estella fists hold of Pippin's coat and bows her brow against his shoulder, breathing hard and fast as it comes, closer and closer, and then -

Oh, and then she feels like she's melting, and again, and her breath shakes and she trembles all over, and she's boneless back against Merry, with one of his arms still about her.

"Oh."

Pippin laughs, and licks her cheek and then kisses her mouth. She tastes sweat, faintly salty, but she tastes Merry, too. And their fingers still seemed tangled, and she feels tired, pleasantly tired, but with sensation prickling full across her skin.

And Pippin asks, "Is that all, then?"

Estella laughs, eyes half-closed. "Oh. I don't think I can think."

Merry chuckles, and he teases her, warm dry hand sliding up over her breast, and she moans and she squirms, and realizes that her dress isn't even mostly off, her bodice opened up and undone. Well, she can think more than she'd thought she could, at least.

"I think I want - "

Pippin's mouth is on her, again, warm and sweet now that the tang of salt has faded, and then Pippin leaves her, and she must be spinning through the air, not grounded as she'd thought, and his mouth is on Merry's. She turns, tangles her fingers in his hair, and draws him away, pressing her mouth to Merry's. He chuckles, and the kiss slides deep - deep, like the press of their fingers. She makes a small noise, and Pippin's hand slides away. Estella groans.

Pippin murmurs something, kisses her cheek. Estella, almost too somnolent for her own good, says, "I would like to get this dress off, before it ends up stuck to my skin." The day is warm, of course, and there's sweat on her skin and it isn't just there because of them. Pippin slides back, and Merry lets Estella loose from his hold, and he's helping her to stand, helping her to shed far too much soft cloth. And she can undress, and he does help her, and she pulls him back down with her, settling in the grass though the blades press against her skin. "Kiss me," she says, and he does.

When Pippin presses near, Estella is almost giddy, and she says, "Kiss Merry," and Pippin does.

And they're kissing over her, and she can watch them - and they're lovely, she thinks, and she almost wonders if they've done this sort of thing before. Only because they fit so nicely, and they do fit so nicely, and she tangles her fingers in Pippin's jacket, and then pulls free the first three buttons.

"You're wearing," she says, "far too much clothing."

He must be, and Merry agrees, and Estella thinks it's hardly fair that she's the one who's bare while they are still fully clothed - and Merry's arms reach over her, popping the last of Pippin's buttons, and Estella chuckles when Pippin shrugs the coat off. The shirt goes next, and that Estella sees to herself, rolling over and straddling Pippin's hips - he smiles up at her, and his eyes are so bright, and her too-dark curls tumble down about her face, and she smiles back at him.

"I don't think I've ever done this sort of thing," she whispers, and then she bends her mouth to his and his chest is bare and smooth and she lets her fingers roam, and she giggles softly when she skims over a dark nipple, and Pippin jerks.

"Don't you worry," he grits out, teeth clinched even though he grins. "We have."

She draws back, and her fingers press and then twist, though gently. Pippin's eyes half-close, and his mouth is parted, and Estella says: "Merry, tell me - what sort of thing does he most like?"

"Oh, he does like that," Merry says, and his voice seems to rumble, though it seems too distant. "Do it again." Estella pinches and squeezes and then leans down fully, sliding herself across Pippin's chest, and pressing her mouth to a nipple. Her limps clamp, and pull, and suck, and she almost laughs - he shouldn't act like this, but he does, gasping and groaning, and all so pleasantly. And he's smooth, so smooth, and hard, and not just where it counts - and she can feel him, oh, she can, though he's still trapped and straining in his trousers.

"Stella," Pippin gasps.

She doesn't let loose, wonders just how hard he can get - and he does like it when she bites, and then sucks, tongue lathing and then she bites again. He makes the most wonderful sounds, and when she does draw back - finally does draw back - he is flushed and panting, and there is a dark red mark left on his chest.

"I never would have thought you - capable," and he laughs.

"I'll show you," she says, and she promises.

And Merry laughs, too, and all this time he'd been shedding clothing, and he pulls Estella close to him even as he slides his other arm about Pippin, and presses his face into the crook of Pippin's neck. "Lucky me, having the both of you. And I would like to have you both."

Estella twists and her breasts flatten when they press against Merry's chest. She kisses his jaw, and then his mouth, and she thinks a moment - and then she says, far too bold, though given the company and her lacking state of attire, it seems like no great thing. "Well, you could both have me."

He gives her a look, and Pippin makes a soft noise, and he levers up on one elbow, which pushes Estella closer against Merry - and with Pippin behind - and she hides her face against Merry's shoulder, heat on her cheeks. She almost laughs, and she feels it bubbling in her breast, but instead Merry's touch is light and Pippin's mouth quirks in a grin as he presses himself closer, and gives her a kiss.

"Freddy wouldn't approve. I think this means that we have ourselves a marvelous plan."

"Well, of course he'd not," she laughs, but she can't look up. Not till Merry urges her to, fingers at her chin, and she smiles very faintly. "Well, it does seem to suit the day."

Merry makes a thoughtful noise, kisses her, and slides his hand over Pippin's, where it has been resting at her hip. He bends his mouth to Estella's, and feels Pippin's hand sliding up again, and with Merry's pressing down low. She groans, and moans softly, lashes fluttering as she seeks to catch her breath. "Oh, well. It's good, then, that we're all Took enough to try."

Pippin snorts and laughs and kisses her neck, and slides his hand free of Merry's, over her hip and then down between her legs - she makes a soft noise, started, when his fingers sink back, and deep, into wet and heat, and she hitches her leg up over Merry's, feeling Merry's breath rumbling in his chest. Pippin slowly wiggles his fingers. Estella groans, and lolls her head back. Pippin hums, and his mouth fastens on her throat, sucking with the press of teeth evident - there will be marks there in the morning, if not before.

And she was pressed nicely, she was, Pippin's fingers and Merry's chest, and Merry hard and pressing against her, too. She makes what she can only think of as a pliant noise, and she seeks to drive herself against him, though Merry chuckles though that turns to a gasping groan when she takes him in hand. Sliding her hand along him, he makes another noise, softer, but somehow harder, and his breath puffs out even as Pippin presses deeper. She whimpers, closes her eyes, and Merry is thrumming in her hand and Pippin is hard at her back.

"You finished undressing," she says, somewhat amazed.

"Yes, well, you haven't been paying much attention, if you missed that."

"Ah, perhaps. But this is for the best."

Her hand slides, casual yet firm, along his thigh, and Merry's breath hitches and his legs part and Estella watches, quite amazed, as his fingers tangle in long grass. "I'd not have thought you a shy one, Merry," Estella says, and grins, kissing where her hand has lingered. Merry's breath slides free from his mouth, and his thumb brushes her cheek.

"You'll be the end of me, the two of you. And if you need know, Pippin's far more - ah - fond of - oh - "

She laughs, a low and breathy laugh, but this is with her mouth on him, sucking him in. Pippin chuckles, kisses her throat and presses her fingers, and it is all almost too much for her. She rolls over, resting herself on Merry's thighs, and feels Merry straining beneath her as she sucks. Merry is - oh - and Pippin presses, firm and slick and deep, and he nudges her legs and presses himself against her sweaty back, and the grass is sticking in her side, how she rests, and then - oh.

Oh, yes.

Pippin slides himself deep, grunting softly, and Estella knows Merry would be distraught if he knew just how bad that thrust had made her want to bite. But she bobs back, instead, licking the long shaft and feeling the flutter of Merry's breath.

"I just - need to - catch my breath," she groans, palm and fingers wrapping about. Merry twitches. Pippin, breathless, laughs.

Slow and deep and oh, and Estella closes her eyes tight, and Pippin's too clever fingers slide into her and tease her even as he strokes. She wants to - she'd like to say something, yes, or demand more, but she can't and this all should be more than enough. Shouldn't it?

Yes.

Oh, but it's not.

"Don't - don't stop," she whispers, trembles, and Pippin's hips seem to snap and he rocks against her.

"Poor, poor Merry," Pippin laughs, and Merry mutters something dark and Estella laughs against him, and gives him a kiss.

"Oh." Estella breathes a little, because she has to. It hits her, hard and fast and then with Pippin still moving, and she begs him not to stop, and then it hits her, hard again and just as fast, one more.

Only then does she let herself descend upon Merry once more, when he's struggling and straining and Pippin is moving fast, faster than he had before, and his pace is quicker now than it had - oh, more than it had ever been. Estella almost thinks she might lose herself, might lose her pace, and her mouth does stumble and her tongue feels heavy, thick.

Faster still and quick as stars and Pippin is falling and Merry is bursting on her tongue, and Estella sucks harder, mostly because she can, and Merry moans and gasps and pleads. Pippin stops, but slowly, and Estella feels hot and sticky all over.

Merry kisses his own taste, sucking it and licking it slowly from her mouth.

And they lay in a tangle, all sated and warm, and Pippin suggests a proper bed and laughs that Frodo really will be in a state when he finds out just what he missed, Estella worries that she'll be picking grass out of who knows where, and for however long - but Merry touches her hip, and Pippin's fingers are loose at her side, and Merry says: "So, have you more than warmed to the Lithe celebration, here at Great Smials? I admit, it took me more than just once before I'd properly made up my mind."

And Estella laughs and kisses him, and Pippin laughs, too, and Estella says: "Well then, Pippin, it seems that you will get your proper bed."

But they don't move from their pleasant tangle, not right away.