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A New Kind of Courage  by Auntiemeesh

Chapter eighteen: The Morning After
Beta provided by Pipspebble

Entering the tent, Merry found his cousin sitting at the table, reading through a stained, leather-bound journal. Pippin looked up at Merry’s entrance, his face a mix of emotions. "I found this in my things," he said. "I’d forgotten all about it. I thought I’d remembered most everything, but there’s a lot in here that I still don’t remember. Little things, mostly. I do seem to recall the big events pretty well."

Merry sat at the table, next to Pippin. "I know it must be frustrating, Pip, but you know, we all forget the little things. That’s why you kept the journal in the first place. You told me you wanted to be able to tell your grandchildren, some day, about everything that happened. Not just the big, exciting or dangerous things, but what it felt like to sleep on an ant hill or how big the moon looks at night, when you’re a hundred leagues from anywhere."

"I do understand that, Merry. But, this isn’t like just forgetting and then being reminded, which is what I’d intended when I wrote this. This is forgetting like it had never happened. I don’t remember after reading the things in here. I don’t remember the night Sam fell into a gully because he was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I’m sure I should, it’s written right here that it happened, but I really don’t." Tears shimmered in Pippin’s eyes as he spoke. "And what about the things that I didn’t get a chance to write down? I’ll never even know that things are missing, except that I’ll always wonder."

Merry had no ready answer for this. He sincerely hoped that as time went by, Pippin would remember more and more, so that someday, there would be no gaps in his memory at all. But until then, there were bound to be days like this, when it all sat far too heavily on his friend’s shoulders. All he could do was sit with Pippin, and try to fill in the gaps that were concerning him most, giving him knowledge, even if he could not have memory.

They talked for a long while. At first they paged through Pippin’s journal, looking over the adventures, big and small, that they’d had since leaving the Shire. After a time, they began to speak more desultorily, about anything and everything, friends they missed, adventures they hoped still to have. Finally, they began to speak of the things that lay closest to their hearts, concern for Frodo and Sam, wonder at the idea they could possibly have won this unwinnable war, and their joy, in the midst of this chaos, to have survived everything and still have each other.

"When I thought you were....dead," Merry faltered, "I tried imagining going home and having to face your parents. I couldn’t do it. There was just no imagining it. My mind shut down every time I tried. I was so afraid that I would have to return to the Shire alone, and I didn’t think I would be able to do so." Now it was Merry’s turn to have tears in his eyes. He rubbed at them roughly, determined not to fall apart.

Standing up, he began to pace the tent. So much for feeling refreshed, he thought almost angrily. Pippin’s voice interrupted his thoughts. "Merry, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you try to get some sleep before supper?"

"No!" he almost shouted. "I don’t want to sleep, right now," he added, trying to soften his tone as much as he could. There was no use shouting at Pippin. "I just," he trailed off, not sure what it was he wanted to say. Sitting back down at the table, he forced a smile for his cousin.

"I’m sorry, Pippin. Sorry for being such a bad-tempered old bear. I always seem to end up taking my temper out on you, and you deserve it least of anyone."

"Don’t apologize, Merry." Pippin looked distressed, but sounded quite calm and undisturbed. "You must know that I don’t mind. Now, you try shouting at Frodo like that, and he’ll hand you your head on a silver platter, but that’s a different story altogether. I’m much more understanding than dear old Frodo."

Merry was unable to suppress a snort of surprised laughter. "Well, I suppose I’d best keep my temper under tight control around Frodo, then."

"Yes, I suppose you’d best," Pippin agreed with a straight face.

It wasn’t much longer before Legolas arrived with the supper tray. Gimli was right behind him, with several flasks of wine. Soon Gandalf and Aragorn had arrived as well, and glasses of wine were poured out. The hobbits stared at their friends in surprise, as this was the first time in days that everyone had been gathered together like this.

"I do believe a celebration is in order," Aragorn stated as he handed the glasses around. Once everyone was served, he held his glass high. "To Meriadoc Brandybuck, Knight of Rohan!"

Everyone echoed him as they raised their glasses, and Merry looked about with grateful eyes. The rest of the evening was spent drinking wine, eating, and laughing. The anger and melancholy Merry had been feeling earlier were forgotten, at least for now.

The party was not allowed to go very late into the evening, however, as both Merry and Pippin were still tired from the previous night, and Merry had to be up early the next morning. Aragorn had brought word that Eomer would be expecting Merry one hour after sunrise. This meant that Merry would have to rise early, as he would need to meet with Aragorn first.

After everyone had gone, Merry helped Pippin to his cot. While seeming quite weary, Pippin was in much better spirits than he’d been earlier.

"I haven’t been dizzy at all, tonight, and I’ve been out of bed for several hours. That’s a good sign, don’t you think, Merry?" he asked hopefully.

"Indeed, you silly Took, I think that is a very good sign." Merry grinned at his friend. "I, on the other hand, am feeling dizzy enough for us both. I think I might just possibly have had a little too much to drink."

Once Pippin was settled, Merry blew out the lamps and dropped heavily onto his own bed. Sighing in relief at being able to close his eyes against the spinning of the room, he gratefully welcomed the oblivion of sleep.

The following morning, Merry bitterly regretted the wine. His head ached, his mouth was dry, and his eyes felt gritty and sore. To add insult to injury, he’d had a terrible night, again. This time it had been his own dreams disturbing his sleep. Fortunately, they hadn’t been bad enough to cause him to wake up screaming, but he had been tormented by vague shadows and unpleasant thoughts all night, leaving him feeling more tired than before he sought his cot.

Dragging himself out of bed, he washed and dressed, moving as carefully as possible. Glancing out the tent flap, he saw that the sun had already poked her nose over the horizon. Grimacing in dismay, he realised he didn’t have time to make a proper cup of tea before meeting Aragorn. Sighing in distaste, he dipped himself a mug of tepid water from the bucket and quickly downed it before reaching for his cloak.

Pulling his cloak over his uniform, he stepped out of the tent, squinting to shield his overly sensitive eyes from the growing light of the morning. Head down, he trudged to Aragorn’s tent, slipping in through the flap and cursing at the brightness. It seemed that Aragorn had every lamp in the place lit up, and the tent practically glowed.

"Are you trying to blind me?" he growled in surly tones as he hauled himself up into his customary chair.

Taking one look at Merry’s reddened eyes, Aragorn turned the lamps down until the level of light was more bearable for the suffering hobbit. He turned to the brazier, where a kettle of water was steaming, pouring hot water over a mix of herbs and handing the resulting tea to Merry.

"Drink this, it should help with your headache."

Merry scowled up at his friend. "Is this a new game for you, Aragorn, getting me drunk? Because you are very good at it."

"I take full responsibility for the first occasion," Aragorn answered with a barely suppressed smile. "But I think this one is all on you, my friend."

Merry didn’t respond, contenting himself to drink the tea. It was bitter and had a strong aftertaste, but he barely noticed. When the mug was empty, Aragorn took it back and made him another serving, this one more pleasing to the taste.

"Are you ready to talk?" he asked after Merry had sipped at the new tea for several minutes.

"I suppose," Merry looked up, meeting Aragorn’s eyes. "I was chased by dark dreams all night. It was not...pleasant. Truthfully, I prefer the hangover to the dreams." He attempted to smile but wasn’t sure it came across very well.

"Tell me about the dreams, Merry," Aragorn commanded and so Merry went on to describe them in detail. They had all been vague, full of ominous shadows, but no clear threat. A sense of loss that couldn’t be overcome, fear of things behind and before him, and a feeling of loneliness that brought Merry nearly to tears just in the telling of it.

When the hobbit was done retelling his dreams, Aragorn put one hand to Merry’s forehead and closed his eyes. After a moment, he allowed his hand to drop and looked at Merry. "I sense no Shadow this morning. I deem these dreams were just that, ordinary nightmares brought on by too much wine." He smiled gently as he spoke.

Merry was relieved. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about the dreams until he’d spoken with Aragorn, for fear of what might happen. Knowing they were normal nightmares took much of the fear from them, leaving them powerless to bother him. His headache was much better as well, he noted. He supposed that was the result of the tea Aragorn had given him. All in all, he was feeling much more equipped to face the day.

Thanking Aragorn and bidding him farewell, Merry rose and left the tent. The light still hurt his eyes a bit but it wasn’t as bad as before. Cautiously looking at the sky, he saw that he was in danger of running late, and so hurried on to Eomer’s tent.

The rest of the morning passed quickly, with Eomer keeping Merry busy with many tasks. He was released from duty in midafternoon, with orders to return at the same hour the next morning. He returned to his tent to find Pippin alone, in bed, looking very mutinous.

"It’s about time someone came," he declared. "I’ve been abandoned here, alone, for hours."

Merry, finding a mug of tea that was still warm, sitting on the table, smiled. "Hours, is it?"

"It feels like hours," Pippin muttered. "I’m going to burst if I don’t go soon, but I’m not allowed to get out of bed when I’m alone, remember?"

Merry laughed. "Well, I’m here now. Go, please, before you burst. It would create an awful mess and I, for one, don’t want to have to clean it up."

Making a face at his older cousin, Pippin slowly levered himself off the cot, taking a moment once on his feet to make certain of his balance before walking to the back of the tent. Merry followed close at his friend’s side, but was pleased to see that Pip was able to handle everything on his own.

Upon completion of his mission, Pippin led Merry to the table, where both hobbits sat down. Merry yawned widely, apologizing for his rudeness once he was able to speak.

"I hesitate to suggest this, in light of your response yesterday," Pippin put forth, "but why don’t you take a nap?"

"What, and leave you all alone again? I wouldn’t dream of it." He caught the concerned look sent his way by Pippin. "Really, I’m fine. I’ll sleep better tonight if I stay awake now." Pippin looked dubious, but Merry ignored him. Getting up, he announced that he was off in search of a late lunch, but that he would be back shortly. "Do you want anything?"

"I had lunch a few hours ago, but I wouldn’t say no to a little something," the younger hobbit answered.

Merry nodded, having expected that answer. Pippin, like all sensible hobbits, never turned down a chance to eat. Making his way to the kitchen area, he filled a tray with stew, bread, and fruit before snagging a flask of fresh water and returning to the tent. Half an hour later, sated and content, he sat back from the table.

He watched Pippin, who was still nibbling on a crust of bread. He was pleased to see that his cousin was looking much stronger and healthier. He had been far too thin when Merry arrived, but he’d already started gaining weight and soon, if he kept it up, he would start to look like a normal hobbit again. He was still a bit too pale, but that was due mainly to his enforced stay in this tent.

"I’m going to ask Aragorn if we can go out to the stream again tomorrow afternoon," Merry announced suddenly.

Pippin looked up with an eager glint in his eyes. "That sounds like a good plan. Maybe this time, I can help you catch some fish."

"Maybe, if I can make up a fishing pole for you. I was spearing them the other day, and I don’t think you’re quite up for that yet. But you should be able to manage a pole and line with no problem."

Pippin walked about the tent for a bit after that, stretching his legs, he said. He took his time, careful to make no sudden shifts or turns, but Merry thought he was looking much steadier. After a time, he settled back into his bed for a short nap, and Merry decided it was a good time to visit Sam and Frodo.

"I’ll probably be back before you wake, if I can manage to stay awake, myself," he said with a laugh. "I tend to find the beech grove very relaxing. I start out talking to Frodo and Sam, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up and it’s an hour later."

Pippin looked wistful. "I would like to visit them, myself," he said quietly. "I want to see for myself that they are really alive and healing. I know you’ve been keeping me updated, but it’s not the same."

"I know, Pip," Merry answered. "Maybe we can stop on the way to the stream, tomorrow, so you can visit with them for a time. I’ll speak to Aragorn about it."

Pippin smiled in thanks as he snuggled down into his pillow and closed his eyes. Feeling confident that his cousin would sleep for an hour or more, Merry left the tent, heading for the beech grove. After saying hello to the sleeping hobbits, and telling them about his day, he settled down to share a pipe with Gimli, who had just started his turn at watching Frodo and Sam.

He allowed the dwarf to wax poetical about the wonders of the Glittering Caves for nearly half an hour, before suggesting a game of dice. This kept them occupied for another hour, until Merry deemed it time to check on Pippin. "I don’t know how much longer he’ll put up with the restrictions Aragorn has placed on his movements," he said, worry over his cousin’s possible misbehaviour starting to nip at the back of his mind. "He’s starting to feel very restless."

"Don’t worry yourself over it, Merry," Gimli rumbled. "I’ll look in on the rascal tomorrow morning and do my best to keep him occupied. Your excursion to the stream should be enough to keep him distracted tomorrow afternoon. And I suggest we not worry about the next day until it is here.

"Right." Merry stood up decisively. "Thanks for the game, Gimli. I’ll see you tomorrow." Feeling weary but pleased, he made his way back to his tent, looking forward to the distractions of the coming day.





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