Chapter 12
Come Back to Us
Legolas sat alone, atop one of the ruined guardhouses, staring off into the distance; though focused on nothing. In one hand he held Pippin's Lorien brooch and ran his thumb repeatedly across it; he had meant to return to the hobbit but had not yet had the chance. In the other, he held a long stemmed wooden pipe he had found in Gimli's pack, along with enough pipeweed to last the dwarf through many hard months of smoking. He had promised Pip he would try pipeweed and he intended to see the promise through, though he saw no reason to humiliate himself in front of everyone else in the process. That he had not promised to do. He hated to admit it, but he could see the appeal of the weed; it would be a shame when this pipe ran out. Something about the smell of it reminded him of the hobbits; especially Meriadoc.
He knew he should probably be inside the guardhouse, turned healing room, with Pippin but he could not have stood one more second in there. He had already stayed in there for hours, watching the laborious rise and fall of Merry's chest, which was hardly visible even to his eyes. He had sat by Pippin's side, who cradled his cousin's scarred hand while fighting back tears.
Aragorn had done everything he could for Merry apparently and now all he could do was stop in as often as possible to see how his patient was doing. A fever that refused to break gripped the hobbit like a vice, threatening to snuff Merry's life out; like a candle in a storm. When Pippin wasn't looking, the ranger's face held a look of such hopelessness and sorrow that it chilled the Elf to his core. Aragorn had told them that, short of a miracle, nothing would stop Merry from dying within the hour.
The others had been informed and had all come to say their goodbyes, though Legolas doubted Merry had been aware of any of them. He had not stirred since being rescued. Gimli had led away a weeping Gandalf, while tears flooded his own beard. Aragorn had lent over Merry's still frame whispering, "Go to your rest my friend. We will take care of those you love. Be at peace and know you go with honour. I am sorry I failed you." The ranger had placed a kiss on the hobbit's forehead then hurried from the room; shoulders shaking.
Only Legolas and Pippin had been left by Merry's side, neither speaking and to the Elf's amazement Pippin's eyes had still remained tear-free. Grief had threatened to consume Legolas, but still he had stood in a corner observing the two unmoving hobbits. Eventually, unable to contain his agony anymore he had knelt by the bedside and had taken one of Merry's icy hands. "Go, if you must, my friend," he had whispered, fighting the tears that had pushed so hard against his eyes. He shoved them away though. He would say his farewell, if he must, but he would not indulge his grief until then. "We will meet again on the white shores in days to come. But, also know that if you will come back to us, to Pippin, we will set everything to rights; if it takes us forever and a day. You will be healed and whole if you will just come back." With that he had left leaving Pippin to say his farewell in private.
Legolas stubbed out the pipe guiltily and tucked it safely away in the coat he was borrowing from Aragorn. He took a deep rattling breath and brushed a single tear sliding down his face away. First smoking and now this! He had definitely been around men too long. Maybe this is why his father had kept him away from mortals as much as possible. He would never get used to death.
He started off down into the wreckage of Isengard and then out into the plain. He had no fixed destination in mind. Just to try and get as far away from the grief that pressed down on him; as if walking could take him further away from himself. "Don't go, Merry," he muttered under his breath. "For all I will try to do, I do not think I will be able to make Pippin survive you long. Please stay, if only for him."
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Pippin tore his eyes from his cousin's face to watch the elf leave the room. How Legolas had stayed with him so long was staggering. To have sat and faced death, when he would never be able to understand the phenomenon that would, in the end, consume all his mortal friends.
The door clicked shut and he was alone with his cousin for the first time since Lorien. Had it really been so long? It seemed another lifetime, to his mind, that he and Merry had found the Elves' wine cellar and had had a drinking contest lasting into the small hours of the morning. He smiled at the memory, though fat tears finally came to his eyes that he had held back for what felt like forever.
His gaze was drawn back to Merry's deathly pale face and a sob escaped him. Careful not to cause his cousin any extra pain, Pippin crawled up onto the makeshift bed beside him, like he had used to as a child, when monsters lurked under his bed and Merry was his only guardian. "White shores," he muttered through his tears. "Legolas and Gandalf say that when you die you go to a far green country under a swift sunrise with white shores that stretch from the north to the south. You deserve them, Merry, and only the Valar knows what else for all this trouble you've been made to go through. But, Merry, what will I do if you go? What will I do without you to get me out of scrapes, or even to get me into them?"
It might have been Pippin's imagination, but he could have sworn his cousin's breathing became a little deeper and steadier. His imagination; it must be. "And what will Estella do without you? You didn't know I knew about your feelings for her did you? It was the only times I ever saw you nervous, in her company. Will you really leave her for some addlebrained Hornblower to snatch up? Sam would forget Rosie Cotton first!" Was that colour in Merry's face? He was letting his fool's hope run away with him.
"And Frodo! He will need you when he returns. We will need everyone Frodo loves to pull him back from whatever darkness might have hurt him in Mordor. He loves you maybe even more than he loves his old Sam. You can't leave us all, and though it may be selfish for me to want you back I think you would...do understand." Now he knew he wasn't imagining it. Merry's face creased in a small frown and his tongue ran over his healing lips.
"Come on, Merry! I know you can hear me, you stubborn Brandybuck! You never could hide anything from me, now come on: breathe, open your eyes and come back to us! The rest of the world might give up, but I'm still here and you aren't going anywhere for a good while, if I have anything to do with it. We were both always as obstinate as each other, now I will make you come back if I must drag you. You will come back because those who you love need you; because I need you. Open your eyes, Merry! Our work in this world is far from over! We have fireworks to steal, women to woo, a cousin to save and a world to explore. Open your eyes and see the sun again!"
And as he spoke miraculously, inexplicably Merry's eyes peeped open, the sunlight through the window dancing off them. "Pippin?" It was barely a whisper, dry and cracked, but the word was still there. Brilliant green eyes found Pippin's and that small half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You could give lessons to rocks in pure blinded stubbornness, Peregrin."
"And yourself to mules, Meriadoc!" Pippin laughed though his tears. He was exerting every last bit of self control to restrain himself from seizing Merry in a bear-hug. "Lay there quiet a bit, while I fetch Aragorn. He'll get Legolas to use me for target practice if I wear you out with talking."
With that, he leapt from his perch on the bed, though loath to leave Merry for even a second now, dashed across the room and into the doorway. "Aragorn! Aragorn! He's awake! He's alive!"
Aragorn appeared in a second and hurtled full pelt into the room, causing Pippin to squeeze himself thin against the doorframe to avoid being bowled over. Just as he was about to peel himself away from the wall Legolas flew past too and he threw his back into the door again. By the time he managed to get back to Merry's side the Gimli and Gandalf had arrived too.
Merry gripped Pippin's hand in his the moment he could reach it, seemingly unwilling to let go. His grip was surprisingly strong considering and Pippin had to fight back a wince. Aragorn was checking Merry's pulse and talked to the hobbit, asking him if he could feel pain in the areas the ranger touched. The tone of Merry's voice and the set of his face suggested that, yes he could very well feel pain just about everywhere. Legolas placed a cup of water in Pippin's free hand which he helped Merry drink, coughing and spluttering a little.
"Well, Master Meriadoc, you've come out surprisingly well, all things considered; though you'll have scars to rival Legolas nice collection of new ones I dare say, "Aragorn pronounced grinning. "A broken rib, wrist and sprained ankle though they are all mending extraordinarily fast, with cuts and bruises just about everywhere it's possible to get them. It's going to hurt for some time, but nothing time won't heal. The fever seems to have broken and completely gone, though how that managed to happen in the time that I was gone is a mystery to me. We will have to put it down to the sheer resilience of hobbits in general."
Pippin laughed out right, though tears of relief still streamed from his eyes unchecked. Merry started to chuckle, but he quickly stopped with a grimace and contented himself with his lopsided grin. Pippin wanted to hug his cousin for all he was worth, though he kept himself in check. Merry was not only alive, but he was smiling and would be out of bed in a matter of days. He could not have wished for half so much a few minutes ago. However, as he glanced down at Merry he noticed something about his smile didn't seem to reach his eyes. The smaller hobbit bit his lip. Maybe not all wounds would be external or so easy to heal. He shuddered a little, hoping Merry hadn't noticed.
An abrupt movement over the other side of the bed caught his attention, out of the corner of his eye. He was just in time to see Legolas hand a perfect black ball of stone to Gandalf who hid it quickly under his cloak with a meaningful look at the elf. His Tookish curiosity seized him and he found himself planning to get a better look at it later. Maybe once Gandalf had gone to sleep; that would be safest.