Part 2-The Tables Have Turned
Hobbits are a fiercely loyal race; very connected with families and each other, which is why there are so many hobbits and yet so few families. They were (or are) perhaps the most peaceful of all the races on Middle-Earth. Why, then, would any Hobbit set out from their beloved home, on a quest of inevitable danger? Meriadoc Brandybuck thought he knew the answer to that one.
Family. Friends. Home. Merry had wondered at Bilbo's adventures, thinking that he would never venture very far out of the Shire. He knew differently know. 'Perhaps Frodo,' Merry mused to himself as he struggled to stay awake, 'had simply come because it seemed like the right choice, the only choice, available to him.'
Merry glanced up at the moon, bloated and white, and perceived the time had come to awaken Pippin for the next watch. Even if he still had another hour or so to go, he needed Pippin's unquenchable cheerfulness to assuage his own worries. He leaned over his young cousin, smiling at him fondly, and with more than a touch of sadness.
Pippin was only a tweenager-just then twenty-eight, and he had absolutely refused to be parted from his fellow hobbits. It was Pippin who had said (wish such a lack of cheer that Merry had wanted to cry) "Frodo needs us, Merry. Elves and wizards may know what's right for Middle-Earth, but only friends know what's right for Frodo."
Merry had poked him, right in the ticklish spot under his ribs. "Frodo hates feeling like he isn't looking after us," he pointed out, "are you saying that he is going to need us more than he will need anyone else in the world?" Merry asked this semi-jestingly. They were in Rivendell, and the Fellowship had not yet been decided. Merry, Pippin, and Sam were still trying to cope with the terrible thing that had happened at Weathertop.
Pippin swatted Merry's hand away. "Watch it, cousin," he warned, (and oh, how Merry's heart was gladdened to finally see a bit of Pippin's old spirit return!) "you may be bigger than me, but I daresay I could wrestle you to the ground!"
The idea of two Hobbits, wrestling and fighting right in the middle of Elrond's homely house, got Merry giggling. It was the first laughter in a long time, and it felt good. When Pippin's higher, sweet laughter blended harmoniously into his own, it didn't push away the terrible burden of worry he felt…but it lessened it.
Pip's eyes twinkled as he looked fondly up at his older cousin, caught up in his own mirth. "Can you see it?" he asked Merry cheerfully, "us bickering, while Lord Elrond, Strider, and a whole houseful of Elves look on?" Merry thought of Lord Elrond, of an unknown age (at least to him) scowling down at them. He snorted. Wrestling Hobbits. No, it wasn't very Elvish at all.
Pippin, satisfied to see Merry unshoulder some of his burden, sobered once more. He had a point to make, and he intended to make it. "Whatever they decide," he had said slowly, "we must go with Frodo, wherever that may be. He will need us."
Merry had wanted to protest at this, because Pippin was young. So young. The fact that Merry was not so much older had slipped his mind. And the idea of war went against the very nature of Hobbits!
But this was about Frodo. Skilled fighters, wizards, and elves might be able to protect Frodo, but he would need the love of friends and family to actually succeed. This realization was almost a shock to Merry. Frodo's face filled Merry's mind: Frodo teaching him to fish, teaching him his letters, and looking out for him if the older lads picked on him. The tables had turned. Now it was he, Merry, who (along with others) would be needed to look after Frodo.
"You are correct as usual, Master Took," Merry had said, this time succumbing to his desire to tickle Pippin unmercifully (all the while looking out for Lord Elrond or Strider, just to be careful). "I think we will be of some help after all."
That had not been so very long ago, they had only just left Rivendell, and Merry now doubted his own words. Had it been the right thing? Sam, perhaps, was needed, but Merry felt like he and Pippin were really more of a burden. They weren't doing a very good job of helping Frodo, at least. Even charismatic Pippin was unable to bring a smile to Frodo's wan face lately.
He sighed as he shook Pippin. He was very nearly hit in the face, not intentionally, but by Pippin accidentally rolling over and swinging an arm over his face. One eye opened and blinked owlishly at him. "Your watch, Pip," Merry whispered. Pippin sat up immediately and yawned hugely, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Actually, it was Frodo's watch, but the other Hobbits let him sleep and divided it up amongst themselves. They were almost unconsciously trying to help Frodo rest as much as possible. 'He needs every opportunity,' Pippin thought unhappily, 'because of that silly ring.' Frodo hated to admit it, but even he knew that he needed a little help every now and then.
Pippin woke himself up enough to perceive Merry's grim features. 'Poor Merry!' Pippin thought, 'worrying himself over everyone in the Fellowship!'
"I know what you are thinking," he said to Merry as he scooted closer to him. He looked around, making sure everyone was asleep. He didn't want to make them mad by keeping them up again!
"Oh, indeed? And what am I thinking?" Pippin rested his head on Merry's shoulder. "You are wondering why we came, of course," Pippin said carelessly, and this of course was true.
Merry sighed as he leaned his head to rest on top of Pippin's. "I just don't know of what use I am," he said. His voice was calm, but Pippin sensed the real distress behind it. "Use?" He asked, turning his head slightly to look at Merry. Merry's face was drawn into a frown.
"Why, cousin, you are the most useful member of this Fellowship!" His eyes began to gleam, and Merry smiled in spite of himself. "Oh, yes? How so?" Pippin absently toyed with Merry's curls, much the same as Merry normally did when comforting him.
"Well, you are needed in tempting Frodo to eat. And myself, of course," he added. Merry laughed at him. "Force? You mean, 'force you into giving Frodo his fair share!"
Pippin waved his hand dismissively. "Who knows better how to cheer up Frodo and Sam?" Merry grinned. "We cheer up Frodo, and Sam is cheered when Frodo is happy," he countered.
Pippin's lips turned down into a slight frown. "Oi! Honestly, Merry!" He cried in exasperation. He jerked playfully away, causing Merry to nearly fall over. Merry smiled so wide that, for the moment, it drove the shadows away from his normally happy features. Pippin was silent as the inwardly thought of his cousin's other uses.
"You aren't too bad with a sword," he offered finally, resting his heart-shaped face on his knees.
"Thanks for that kind compliment," Merry said dryly, "but I'm sure the rest of the Fellowship is better suited for fighting." This irritated Pippin, already an impatient Hobbit by nature. He didn't quite snap at Merry, but it was close.
"You're quite good at being my Merry, Merry," he said decisively. His tone was final. He did break into a radiant smile when Merry have his forehead a loud smacking of a kiss.
"And you," Merry said, his tone considerably lighter, "are very good at being my meddlesome Took." It was true. Who else but Pippin could, with just a quick smile and a few words, so constantly cheer him? 'Well,' Merry amended to himself, 'seeing Frodo cheered would certainly improve everyone's spirits, mine not the least.'
They sat contentedly side by side, until a dry, amused voice broke in, "and you both take the prize for keeping your doddering old cousin awake." Pippin gave a startled noise, half-squeak and half-shout, before turning around to look at Frodo. Frodo lay where he had been, but his blue eyes were open and amused. They hoped.
Merry smiled sheepishly. Pippin, hardly cowering beside him, smiled brightly at his newly awakened cousin. "Hullo, Frodo," he piped, "I would hardly call you doddering, as that would take another…oh…two or three years," he finished in a gleeful tone. Frodo surprised them (and himself, by sound of it) by chuckling. A split-second later, something dark flew through the air and hit Pippin's head with a soft "whoosh!" Pippin squawked out of surprise as he picked up his assailant. It was Frodo's jacket, which he had been using as a makeshift pillow.
"You mussed my hair, cousin," Pippin said haughtily. He attempted to smooth his naturally mussed reddish curls. Merry snorted at this but came to his defense. He picked up something at random and chucked it hack in Frodo's general direction. His normally good aim was thrown off by the lightness of the object he had picked (his own yellow vest) and fell short. It settled down over Sam's face, covering up his head neatly. Merry and Frodo held their breath, but Sam didn't stir. Silence once more took the camp.
Pippin broke it with loud, hiccupy giggles as they all helplessly watched Sam snore gently around the vest. They, too, began giggling. This sound woke him at last.
"Wha…?" he mumbled around a mouthful of vest. He sat up, a near-scowl on his face as he glared at Merry. "Now, Mr. Merry, some of us are trying to get some sleep!" Merry's laughter, when it rang through the camp, sounded exactly like Pippin's. Only Sam could have that tone, two parts respect and one part anger!
"Lighten up, Sam," Frodo said. He, too, sounded gleeful. He shot a furtive glance at his cousins, and then he too, threw part of his bedding at Sam. This war, however brief, was on. Sam ducked under these harmless light missiles as they soared around him. Clothing flew through the camp like weirdly deformed fireworks. Sam laughed, glad to see what he thought of as the 'old' Mr. Frodo back.
"Really, some of us Hobbits need to keep up their strength for tomorrow!" Sam said, knowing the trouble the three cousins could-and did- get up to.
Merry said, "You're definitely right."
Frodo said, "Absolutely correct, Sam."
Pippin said, "Oh, of course."
And Sam said, "Oof!" or something close to that noise, because the wind was knocked neatly out of his lungs as he was tackled by three Hobbits. Sam was flat on his back, Pippin sitting happily on his chest and Frodo hanging onto his arm. Merry's feet kicked out as he went down with the rest of the Hobbits. One hit something that felt, Merry thought, a little like a nose. And a mouth.
All four stopped their giggling at once. They also let go of any Hobbit limbs they might have been tussling with. "MERIADOC BRANDYBUCK!" A voice boomed. Merry looked up, an apologetic smile on his face. It was a strained sort of smile, however, because the booming voice belonged to none other than-Merry winced as the figure stood up-Gandalf!
Pippin's own smile disappeared completely as he looked at Gandalf, who was glaring daggers at his beloved Merry.
"I am so…so sorry, Gandalf," Merry stammered. Despite his fear of Gandalf's wrath, a burst of bubble-like giggles had to be smothered, because Gandalf's rather large nose was unmistakably cherry-red. It also looked like it was going to swell.
Gandalf seemed somewhat at a loss as to what to say (or yell) as he just boomed again, "Meriadoc Brandybuck!" Merry guesses this uncertainty was understandable, as Gandalf had almost certainly never been kicked in the face by large Hobbit-feet.
Pippin, green eyes already filling with tears of sympathy for Merry, squeaked, "No, I am sorry, Gandalf. It was me." His voice was only a faint whisper at the last word, but both Hobbits and Wizard heard him.
Sam's jaw dropped open in horror as he looked at young Mr. Pippin, and then at the Wizard, who felt of his nose and seemed to become even angrier. Sam quickly tried to think of a way to preserve the peace. 'Mr. Merry and Pippin surely have done something wrong,' he thought, but then another thought flitted through his brain. 'They were only doing it for Mr. Frodo, after all.'
It had worked, too. Frodo had been cheered. This thought was the one that caused him to blurt out, "Actually it was me, Mr. Gandalf, sir. I'm sorry." Gandalf drew up his bushy eyebrows in surprise. They nearly drew all the way off his head when Frodo's low voice calmly said, "don't be an ass, Sam."
Frodo untangled himself completely from his cousins and stood up. He looked into Gandalf's eyes and continued, "that goes for you two, as well." This was directed at an equally befuddled Merry and Pippin.
"It was my fault. I got them all riled up." Gandalf pursed his lips as he looked down at the ring-bearer. Frodo merely looked placidly back at him.
"Right now, I don't care if Gandalf kicked himself in the face, as long as everyone goes back to sleep!" Aragorn said sharply, sounding completely awake.
That decided Gandalf. He glared at the Hobbits, then lay back down muttering audibly, "…hobbits…turn you all into something unnatural…" He looked at them sternly for a minute, then rolled over so only Aragorn could see the smile on his face.
Sam sighed in relief as Frodo, too, lay back down. Merry and Pippin retrieved the clothing that had been flung about the camp.
"See, Merry, you're also good at annoying Wizards, too!" Pippin stated smugly as they trudged back to their beds. Merry ignored him as he bid Sam and Frodo a good night. An irritated Gimli yelled, "and all four of you are just wonderful at keeping the rest of us awake!" There was general agreement from the rest of the Fellowship, who apparently were now all awake.
"Now, if you please, go to sleep!" Legolas commanded, not unkindly. Merry and Pippin obediently lay back down. Frodo thought he overheard Pippin reassure Merry, "what would we do without you? You keep us all awake!"
"You both do that equally well, Pip," Frodo reminded in a whisper. He closed his eyes, but that night he went to sleep easily for once. The smile stayed on his lips. Merry saw this and smiled at Pippin. He ruffled Pippin's curls and, now peaceful, went to sleep and let Pippin have his turn to look out.