A drabble and a half, Merry's POV:

The Long Dark

That Took. If he hadn’t had to drop that dratted stone, I would be able to sleep.

No creature hammering away in the depths could keep me awake like a frightened Pippin: that noisy, bothersome cousin of mine, shuffling about in the smothering silence of these caverns. I expect it’s cold by the door, and all sorts of invisible threats must be dancing through his vivid imagination, for I can hear his short, quick breaths and muffled gasps ‘til I'm so attuned to every little sound that I wonder if the pulse pounding in my ears is my heart or his.

Gandalf takes pity on him at last, thank the stars, and Pippin is soon curling up by my side. His icy hands make me shiver, but he is safe, and still and silent too, with my arms and my blanket around him. May a dreamless sleep welcome us both.