By: Dana
Summary: The one where Pippin thinks Merry needs to lighten up.
Characters: Merry, Pippin
Pairings:: Merry/Pippin
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash
Author's Notes: Written because of Lullenny, who beta'ed it as well. Post-RotK, sometime during the Crickhollow years. Title stole from a poem. Also to be blamed upon Lullenny.
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.

There had been a time when Pippin had looked upon the Brandywine with a sort of morbid fascination; a time, as well, when Merry had decided that it was time enough for his young cousin to learn how to swim. That had involved Merry picking Pippin up and dumping him in the water; but Pippin had been swimming on his own by the end of the day.

Today was a new day and not a day for swimming. Merry had taken their swords down from the mantle - they were hobbits before they were soldiers, after all, and a sword had no other place in a home - and then he had saddled their ponies. Afterwards, Merry had frowned; but then, he spent so much of his time frowning these days that Pippin had hardly been surprised.

He had made a compromise of it, though, and Merry had relented after Pippin had offered to pack a picnic lunch. It was better to give in to him, or he would never hear the end of it; that, and there was enough he still wanted to do, and arguing with Pippin about nothing was hardly one of them.

The ponies had grown a bit impatient by the time that Pippin had joined Merry out in the sun. Pippin fed his a bit of apple, having thought that this would happen, and shared half of it with Merry's. As Pippin secured the food in a saddle bag he could see that Merry had lashed his sword in its sheath at the back of his saddle. He didn't look to Merry's, as he secured the fastenings, buckles and ties. He already knew what he'd see.

Pippin thought he could like the day. Merry, though, was antsy, fidgeting; he could hardly keep still in the saddle. With Pippin leading the way, it took them a good bit longer than it should have, to reach the water. To Pippin, it was a sideways distraction, and nothing more, and they reached it in roundabout sort of way; the sort that, he thought, was perfectly suited to a lazy summer day.

Not that Merry wanted them to enjoy it, it seemed.

Now their ponies were tethered at a copse of trees, free to graze, and Pippin had stretched out on the grass. They talked and ate, that is, Merry listened while Pippin went on and on. Merry was itching for something, and they couldn't eat quick enough; not with Pippin taking his time, and Pippin lying back to watch the clouds roll by. Merry sat beside him, watching ripples on the water.

Pippin sighed and stretched, closing his eyes. When Merry rose to his feet, Pippin heard, and he cracked open one eye to follow his cousin's progression. "What are you up to, Master Brandybuck?"

There had been a time when Merry would have simply flashed a grin, and perhaps commented flippantly, "Obviously no good." And Pippin would have smirked, and joined him.

But Merry was frowning, frowning again, and he beckoned for Pippin to follow after. "We've wasted enough of our time," he said, and Pippin sighed deeply.

He pushed himself to his feet, wiping grass off on his trousers and his hands, like Merry had done just moments before. The morning had been cool, but the afternoon was warming. He unbuttoned the first few buttons on his vest, following after Merry as he went back to their ponies. Pippin's looked up at their approach, ears flicking back. Merry half-smiled, rubbed the pony's grey muzzle. He took Pippin's sword down from the saddle, and handed it over. Pippin took it, wordless, as Merry took his own.

"We should spar. It would do us good to keep in shape."

Pippin half-grinned but nodded, and they trekked back to the water. This was what they were here for, after all. Merry cast off his sheath, dropping it where they'd eaten their lunch, and Pippin looked to the water as he drew his own sword.

"You take this too seriously."

"How else should I take it? There are things out there, Pippin, that I'd rather the Shire not see again." Merry was frowning, curls damp from sweat dancing in front of his eyes. Pippin was quick on his feet, and their swords clanged together.

"There hasn't been a ruffian here since, well, since we kicked them all out."

"Yes, well, you never know what could happen."

Pippin just grinned and their swords clanged, once more. "I think the most that will ever happen is nothing, dear cousin. You need to lighten up, I think. You carry too much on your shoulders."

There was a moment of silence, of a sort, just the sound of metal on metal, and they both thought of another cousin, one who had carried too much. Merry spoke up, then, and Pippin's blade slid against his. "Someone must."

"Yes, but you have carried too much. Let go a little, Merry. Let go."

Merry had no reply. Pippin heaved a heavy sigh.

They continued on in silence, and they fought. Neither Merry nor Pippin paused to take off their vests, simply losing them in progression, and then they rolled their sleeves up and half unbuttoned their shirts. The afternoon had warmed, and now it was just hot.

It wasn't just play now; really, Pippin doubted that it ever really had been, and Merry's cheeks were flushed. Merry was determined, and he was fighting hard; like this was real. Pippin felt sweat on his brow, trickling down his cheeks. Pippin looked back, remembered when he'd held his first sword. Pippin lost himself for a moment - it was a bad habit, and one he needed to break - and then Merry cried out, and Pippin came back to himself, and Merry had dropped his sword.

Merry cursed - not something that he often did, clutching his hand. Pippin saw the blood, and he dropped his own sword like he was half of his age and definitely not a knight of Gondor, rushing Merry and taking his hand in his own. He pried Merry's hand open, stretching his fingers as he turned Merry's hand over to look. There was a cut on the back of his hand, long enough, and it looked deep. "Oh, Merry, I'm sorry. Here, let me just wrap that, wait a moment, now."

Pippin left Merry, bent to pick his vest up, and took his handkerchief from his front pocket. He went back to Merry, who pressed his hand to stanch the blood. Merry was staring blankly, and Pippin pried his hands away, gently.

"Now, first, lets get this washed off."

Merry nodded, letting Pippin lead him to the river. They knelt, and Pippin cupped his hands, drizzling cool water over the cut. Merry flinched, and Pippin winced. On second look, it didn't look that deep. Still, it had to sting. "Oh, I am sorry, Merry. Won't I ever learn to look before I - "

Merry pulled his hand away, and Pippin blinked. "Now Merry," he said, retrieving Merry's wayward hand, with a click of his tongue. He took the handkerchief, and tied it round the cut. "There, much better." He applied a bit more pressure, nodding to himself. "Much better."

Merry hadn't said a thing, and there was still sweat on Pippin's brow. He lifted his gaze to Merry's tentatively, and Merry was silent, just staring out over the water, and Pippin tugged at the ties of the handkerchief. "Merry? I'm sorry. I've apologized and you haven't said a thing and it's rude of you not to, and you should know better than that. I mean I"

With Pippin sounding miserable, it came as a surprise when Merry laughed. Pippin screwed his face up in a look of disgust, as Merry wheeled his attention to Pippin from the water, and Pippin scowled. "Whatever do I see in you, now? You are such a - "

Merry pressed his fingers to Pippin's mouth, and Pippin's complaint met an early death. Merry was grinning and then he laughed again, shaking his head. He just couldn't stop himself, his shoulders shaking so hard, his fingers sliding down Pippin's chin. Pippin quirked one eyebrow and then the other, putting a hand on Merry's shoulder to steady him. Merry leaned against him, still laughing, hard at first, and then it softened. He wiped his eyes on Pippin's shoulders, putting his hands up on Pippin's, to once again steady himself.

Pippin looked at him with dry eyes. "Did you enjoy yourself, then?"

Merry nodded, red-faced, wiping at the laughing tears in his eyes. "I don't know what came over me."

"Neither do I."

"Well, we were just sparring, and I was thinking about how you kept going on about how I needed to lighten up, and then you'd cut me, and I I just don't know what came over me." Merry wiped at his eyes, once more, gathering the rest of his tears. He tilted his head and grinned, leaning close to Pippin's lips.

"And I was thinking that you might be right."

"I might have to agree."

Merry sighed against Pippin's lips, leaned close, and Pippin's hand slid over Merry's, gently, covering the tied handkerchief. Their mouths came together and Merry's hand slid to curve at Pippin's neck, rubbing the soft skin, and the place there behind his ear. When they drew apart, Pippin was grinning, and Merry laughed.

"That calls for another, I think."

"Mmm, I definitely agree."

They came together once more, urgent where they'd just been soft, an open mouthed kiss and a hot tangle of tongues. A sigh and Merry's hand bunched the fabric at Pippin's collar, and Pippin slid one hand up Merry's arm, the other resting at his waist. He pulled Merry a little bit closer, or perhaps it was the other way around. Whatever it was, Merry ended up nestled between Pippin's hands, and Pippin had developed the ability to be everywhere, touch everything, all at the same time. Merry sighed against Pippin's lips, and Pippin's tongue traced the shape of his mouth. He could taste sweat, and Pippin grinned.

They were kissing again, then, and Pippin rubbed Merry's shoulders, as Merry let one hand slide in through the opening of Pippin's shirt. Pippin was laughing, breathing, as Merry's fingers rubbed patterns on his chest.

"Oh, now, Merry," and Pippin laughed again, Merry grinning as he pressed their mouths back together. There went the buttons, one by one, and Merry could push Pippin's shirt apart, let it slide down his shoulders. Pippin laughed a little bit more, under the rub of Merry's fingers, and the tickle of Merry's curls as he ducked his head against Pippin's warm neck.

"Oh, oh," and Merry nipped at Pippin's throat. Pippin arched at that, rubbing Merry's shoulders, washing away any echo of old tension, and then Merry was pushing Pippin back, and Pippin looked up at Merry as Merry grinned, tilting his head. Merry's taste was still warm on his lips, and Merry was still a warm presence between his legs.

"What are you up to," but it wasn't a question, more of a reflex, and then they were kissing. Merry groaned, with Pippin running his hands back through Merry's hair, still a bit damp, like his own, tugging at his curls. He leaned back, a breath between, slid his hands down Pippin's chest, tweaking, tugging. Pippin moaned, arched up underneath. He tugged at Merry's buttons, and Merry smirked.

"Just taking our advice."

And Pippin was laughing as he pulled Merry back down for a kiss.