A/N: This is a collection of three drabbles and a drabble and a half ;)

Through the Ages

"I was never a baby," Pippin declared when he was eight years old, as he peered into his new cousin’s crib and wrinkled his nose in distaste at the sleeping lad baby inside. When his amused mother asked him why, he replied quite seriously that he couldn’t remember being one.

"And, Mama," he added, his voice muffled in her sudden embrace, "Merry would never have wanted to play with me. This baby just sleeps and eats and yells all the time. So I must have always been a hobbit lad, because Merry has wanted to play with me since forever."

~~~~***~~~~

"I wish you weren’t so old, Merry," Pippin muttered as he brought two ales over to his cousin, now thirty-three and about to get terribly responsible and serious. "I suppose you’ll have a family and all sorts now, and you’ll have to work with your da and there’ll be no time for tramping or fishing or –"

"Oh, Pip." Merry sighed. "Nothing’s changed."

"It has changed," Pippin frowned. "This is just another thing you’ll do before me but this time it will all be different forever."

"Daft Took," Merry replied fondly. "Drink up, Pip. It’s time we had a song."

~~~~***~~~~

"I feel like you came of age a hundred years ago," Merry remarked, following Pippin’s pensive gaze down to the field below where the Tooks were making final party preparations. His curls tousled by the breeze, the lad looked younger if anything; though his eyes betrayed cares Merry alone understood.

Pippin sank back beside him with a sigh, "Well, it’s official now." He turned to Merry, his eyes bright. "It’s funny how one day makes all the difference, isn’t it?"

"We’ve made it this far, Pip." Merry squeezed his hand and smiled. "I don’t think there’s any difference at all."

~~~~***~~~~

"He is rather fascinating, isn’t he?" Pippin asked for the umpteenth time that day, as he rocked Faramir gently, his voice hushed with awe.

"I think it’s fascinating," Merry mused, "that he looks so much like you did when you were a babe."

Pippin frowned as he looked at his tiny son more closely. "What did you ever see in me back then, Merry?"

"Not much," Merry grinned. "You were very small, and surprisingly loud. But you followed me around as soon as you could crawl, and have done ever since."

"You wanted to play with me," Pippin retorted in the softest voice he had ever used in an argument with Merry; though he threw Faramir’s stuffed sheep at his cousin for emphasis.

The toy bounced off Merry’s head and Pippin laughed helplessly. Faramir howled then, and Diamond spoke up wearily from her bed:

"Lads, will you ever grow up?"