Disclaimer - You know the score - I own nothing. Don't sue me.

A/N - I apologise for the blatant allegory that appears in part of this chapter. I wrote some of this a couple of minutes after the Prime Minister addressed the UK and told us we were officially at war. I was scared and decided to make use of it.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to review - this is for you!

Chapter 4 - Loneliness is Emptiness

As dawn broke, Merry walked slowly across a great field, assessing the damage of the battle. He was attired in the armour of Rohan, and the heavy mail hampered his movements. He surveyed the field, and it became clear, even from the limited vision that all shadow permitted, that there was no life there. Charred and maimed corpses lay scattered: orcs, men, elves, nothing remained alive. And a hobbit. One solitary halfling lay cold on the ground. He had fought bravely, but had never really stood a chance against the evils of the world that stood against him. Pippin. Merry's cousin and best friend. Dead. The darkness had taken him. Collapsing on the floor, energised by his anger and grief, Merry screamed and wept in denial.

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Once he had resumed his sleep, Merry was not disturbed by thought that night. Dreamless, but not blissful, was his slumber.

His waking early the next morning, however, was quite different. The shadow that continued to reside failed to move him, but an ache, difficult to place, filled his innards. Loneliness. The chill of the sparsely decorated chamber, the tiled floor and covered windows. It was not a friendly place of residence to begin with, it's purpose was primarily to heal, but the clinical feel of the minimalist room made it seem lonelier than it was designed to be.

Merry was all alone, in a place foreign to his kind. A place he was never supposed to go.

Loneliness is emptiness. A fissure, gaping and growing, had taken to accommodating itself inside the hobbit. He had no knowledge of his friend's whereabouts. He had no conformation or knowledge of their existence. He would never know unless the Ringbearer was successful in his quest and the shadow and great evil were brought down. Then they would return. And if they would not return then their bodies would be brought back and they would be buried as kings.

For the first time, Merry began to understand the true reason that Lord Elrond had desired for him and Pippin to return to the Shire. There was a certain essence about the young hobbits that was similar to naiveté and was almost innocence: that the mere existence of the Shirefolk depended on them upholding their own rituals and ways of life, and their own beliefs. Although it was often in fact the Rangers on the borders who protected the hobbit's way of life, they held the belief that, if they continued as they had always done, and did not provoke interference or bad feeling from those beyond their reach, they were in direct control of the future of their peaceful existence. It was not that Elrond felt Merry and Pippin to be incompetent in their contributions to the fate of the Ring, but that they would suffer too much personal damage. Their life was now dependent entirely on someone else, and they had no way of knowing what would happen and indeed when it would happen. It was a terrible thing for ones so young to experience - that everything they were doing might be in vain because of some greater being that could take everything away so easily. They were involved in something greater than they could comprehend, let alone deal with.

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Merry continued with this train of thought as the day passed. As he was walking in the gardens with Éowyn and Ioreth, as he was discussing his journeys with Faramir and as he ate his food in silence. It was all he could think about: they were not coming back and there was nothing he could do to make anything better. Merry may never know if they continued to exist.

Picking up the metal fork, Merry pushed his potatoes around his plate for the fourth time. His appetite had left him. The food was growing cold now and, while the Healers had tried their best to provide Shire-like meals for him, he was not tempted to eat. The food was not home like. His habitation was not home like, and there was no one remotely similar to him in the whole of the great city. He was alone.

"You should eat, Master Merry," said Faramir, breaking the silence of the meal, "The Healers will have your head on a plate if they see that all you have done is create miniature hobbit holes with their carefully prepared potatoes. For I assume that is what they are."

Merry nodded and put his fork back down, careful to avoid disturbing his food.

"I sense that you are troubled, young hobbit."

"I saw some soldiers yesterday, whilst I was out looking round the city. I thought they were come to tell me that all my friends had died, but I was wrong. I can't stop thinking about it, Faramir. What if they are dead - and we never know? I wish we had taken Lord Elrond's advice and gone home. We are in matters that are too big for us."

"I cannot tell you anything on that matter that will make you feel better: we are all in matters that are too big for us." The man of Gondor looked grieved for a moment, but then shook his head and smiled at Merry, "But I do have some news that will not perhaps comfort you, but may relieve you of the pain."

"What is that, Faramir?"

"While your friend Peregrin was here, I believe he became acquainted with Bergil, son of the guard Beregond, and his companions. Unlike the majority of citizens, it seems that these young boys did not flee the city, and now they have come to the Houses of Healing asking for you," he paused, studying Merry's face, "But I suppose you are too sick to see them."

"No. I mean I'm not too sick. I would like that." said Merry.

"Then I shall send for them." Faramir looked seriously at Merry and, to his surprise, took his hand. "I realise they will not make up for the fact that Pippin is not here, nor can they make you feel anything other than a great loneliness. But they have many tales to tell, and humour to share, that may lift the burden you carry for a while. Now, I suggest you eat some of that rather delightfully arranged food, for you shall need your strength."

Merry reluctantly picked his fork up again and smiled. His first real smile of the day, and it would have continued had he not chosen to swallow the extremely cold potato mixture at that moment. As it was, it soon turned to a grimace.

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The sun had continued to shine weakly through the shadow for the rest of the day, and it was a good thing too, for Bergil and his friends had taken Merry on a walking tour of the whole city. No important building had gone unexplored, no street unwalked and no stair left unclimbed. Merry felt truly exhausted when he returned to the Houses of Healing for his rest that evening, and felt that sleep would come easily to him.

Despite, perhaps, his initial reservations, Merry had found that Faramir had in fact been right: the company had been good for him. He had been able to interact with beings of a less serious kind, beings that were able to retain a degree of innocence and carefree happiness despite the troubled times. They had by no means replaced the company of his friends, but they had helped to fill some of the aching void in his heart. Life did continue as it always had done for some, even when the ones they loved were in grave peril. Several of the boy's fathers had gone with the soldiers to Mordor, and so they were shared in their grief, but they did not let it rule them. They had an inextinguishable faith that their loved ones would be returned to them and Merry took some comfort from that. He no longer felt alone.

Before he slept, Merry walked the length of the tranquil gardens with Éowyn and Faramir and looked out at the black night. They discussed the possible progress of their friends and the future of Middle-earth, little knowing that they were not alone in their activities for, where ever they were in their journeys at that moment, the remainder of the Fellowship were doing the exact same thing.

Loneliness is emptiness.

Peaceful sleep arrived quickly that night.

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A/N - *Bows down to readers* I am so so sorry for my lack of updating for ages! I have been incredibly busy with my school work and have only managed to write fragments of chapters. The next one to be updated will be 'A whole lotta hobbity goodness', and then I promise I will attempt to write the second half of the chapter for the Olympics! But knowing the way inspiration strikes when I least expect it, this one'll probably end up being updated soon anyway!

HUGE thanks to my wonderful reviewers! Please continue to review - it really is incredibly encouraging!

*Hugs*

Rachel xx

ps. I have a Mini-Balrog (from OFUM) named Gamagee. He is hungry. He doesn't like it when people read but don't review. Don't make me feed you to him!