Merry’s Heart

Aragorn sat up abruptly. Nearby, Merry shifted uneasily but did not wake. Aragorn woke early to take counsel with Halbarad; his kinsman and fellow Dú nedain--there was much to discuss and plan. He quickly got dressed then headed towards the outskirts of the camp.

Merry opened one eye, watching Aragorn slip off into the night to heaven knows where. The young hobbit was having difficulties falling asleep; feeling much like Pippin the night before, twisting and turning as if he were lying on an anthill. The last memory of his young cousin riding off into the wild with Gandalf kept him tossing long after they made camp and settled in for a few hours of rest.

Aragorn had slept near the young hobbit, having had a long talk with Merry about his cousin. The Ranger sensed that the lad would need a companion when he awoke after a fitful night of rest, so before leaving to locate his kinsman, Aragorn whispered a few words to Legolas as he passed him by.

Merry, for his part, was now regretting his overt action of turning his back on young Pippin while his eyes were locked on him. His only intention was to force the tween to remember that his mischief affected more than just himself. But that was before the Nazgú l screeched in the night sky--before Gandalf swept Pippin into his arms and rode off towards Gondor. Now Merry felt alone; like excess baggage that no one was willing to carry.

The young hobbit twisted a few more times before he resigned to the fact he was not going to find sleep anytime soon. Sitting up on his bedroll, Merry wrapped his arms around his knees, then silently let loose the tears of his loneliness. Soon, he felt a presence at his side. Merry stiffened, thinking it was Aragorn returning to fetch something he had forgotten. He didn’t want the Ranger to see him with tears in his eyes. He surreptitiously wiped his eyes with his sleeve before looking to see who it was that intruded upon his melancholy.

“Hello, Merry.”

Merry recognized the voice of Legolas before he ever saw him. One gets like that after traveling for weeks on end with his companions. “Hullo, Legolas,” Merry sniffed. He didn’t mind so much if the elf caught him in his tears; Legolas carried a certain gentleness about him that Merry found appealing.

“I saw that you were awake--do you mind if I keep you company?”

Merry shrugged his answer; his face half buried into his arms as they rested upon his knees. The two companions sat together in silence for a while.

“I wonder how far Gandalf rode this night.” Though it wasn’t a question; Legolas was trying to ease the anxious thoughts out of the young hobbit.

“I wished he hadn’t ridden at all tonight,” was Merry’s reply.

Legolas spoke softly, “Because Pippin would be here?”

Merry’s eyes were fixed on the sleeping forms encamped around them. “I know that the Quest was threatened; that Frodo and Sam were in danger as long as Pippin remained near that glass ball. But Pippin…”

“What of Pippin?”

The hobbit brushed a tear away as he let out a sigh. “I turned my back on him, Legolas.”

There it was. Legolas now understood that Merry’s sorrow was a matter of the heart, not from fear of riding a perilous road into war. “I am certain that he understands, Merry.”

Merry wiped his eyes as if he were finished weeping. Forcing a smile he said, “You’re probably right, Legolas. I suppose I shall get some sleep now. Thank you for listening.”

Legolas had the feeling that Merry wasn’t being entirely truthful with him, but figured the young hobbit wanted to be alone. “You are most welcome. I will be sitting over there next to that tree if you wish to speak more on this. Goodnight.”

Merry laid down on his bedroll, listening to the footfalls of his companion until they were out of earshot. Opening his eyes, new tears sprang forth; his countenance etched with anguish.