#Merry lotr

[peterbscaprisweatpants]

say it with me meriadoc brandybuck

[meliabrandybuck]

Sweet Talk

Merry x OC who is Sam's younger sister

First date to Bilbo's 11th birthday party.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked Fredegar!” the old Gaffer said to his daughter after she protested to the arranged date for Bilbo’s 111th birthday. “I mean… I do like him as a friend… but I just wanted to go to the party and spend time with my friends! Not having to go and behave on a date!” Melian retorted. Ever since her coming-of-age birthday a few years ago, her old man was determined to find her a spouse, though she was never too keen on his choices.

“I made a promise to Rosamunda, so my hands are tied… you’ll have to go with Fatty,” Gaffer concluded. “Ok, fine…” Melian replied, still not happy with having to go with Fatty as her date to the party, but she loved her father enough to tolerate it. “Oh, I promised Mr. Bilbo I would help with the set-up this morning, so I’m off!!” Mel added, realizing the time. She headed toward Bag End to give her old friend a hand with his party planning.

*Meanwhile in the Green Dragon*

Fatty searched through the pub until he spotted the pair of companions that he was looking for… Merry and Pippin. “There you guys are!! I’ve been looking all over town for you!” he said, taking a seat next to Pippin across from Merry. “What are you on about??” Pippin asked him, realizing how out of breath he was. “Sorry,” Fatty replied, taking a sip of Pip’s ale, clearly still reeling from his running around. “I had to find you and tell you… sounds like my mum set me up on a date tonight during old man Bilbo’s party,” he said, breathing between sentences. “Well, that’s great, Fatty!” Pippin said. “Yeah, good on ya, mate!” Merry added before taking a big swig of his mug.

“It’s a date with Melian,” Fatty replied, causing Merry to spit/choke on his ale at the same time. “Mel??” Pippin said, looking over at Merry to see his reaction. “Why tell us that??” Merry said, looking down into his mug thoughtfully. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Merry… I know how much you like her! That much has been apparent ever since her big coming of age party! Ever since then, you’ve viewed her as more than just a childhood friend!” Fatty said. Merry blushed wildly but knew there was no way he could deny his friend’s claims.

“Anyways, I had to tell you that I don’t feel right in bein’ Ms. Melian’s date to the party… I hope you know that I’d rather you be goin’ out with her,” Fatty concluded. Pippin giggled, causing Merry to look at him confusedly. “Y’know, if you’d just asked her out when I told you to, you’d be the one taking Melian to Bilbo’s party,” Pip explained, trying to hold his laughter. “No point in thinking about the ‘what-if’s’ now,” Merry retorted, taking one final swig of his ale and then getting up and leaving. Once he knew it was just the two of them, Pippin nudged Fatty’s arm. “Y’know… I have a few ideas of how to arrange it so that Merry and Melian end up becoming dates…” he said, piquing Fatty’s interest. “Let’s hear them,” Fatty replied, leaning in as if to conspire.

*Later that evening*

Melian put on her long yellow dress, the same one that she wore at her coming-of-age birthday, and now brought out only on special occasions. “Melian!” she heard with a knock on her bedroom door. “Come in!” she said, finishing up pulling her hair half-way back into a ponytail. Her brother Sam opened the door and peeked his head in. “Fatty is here to walk you over to the party—say, you look so beautiful tonight,” he said. “Thanks, Sam,” she said, smiling at him. “I’ll see you there!” she added, slipping past her brother and kissing his cheek as she did so.

“Hey Fatty…” she said, once she was outside their yellow door, cordial as ever. You wouldn’t be able to tell by her countenance that she wasn’t too thrilled about going to the party as his date. “Ready to go??” he asked with a smile as the two of them began to walk down the street to where the party was being held. They chatted a bit about their days, with Melian telling him about the party set-up and everything to expect. Once the pair arrived at the already bustling party, they found their hands full with plates of food and looked for a free spot to sit.

“Listen, Melian,” Fatty began. “I know neither of us want to be on an exclusive date with each other. It was my mum that set this whole thing up… anyways, with all the Shire here tonight, I think it’d be more fun if we just relaxed and hung out with all our friends,” he said, much to Melian’s delight. “Really?? I couldn’t agree more… I’ve been looking forward to spending tonight with my friends… no offense to you of course, you’re a good friend,” she replied. He nodded and said, “I’ve been wanting to catch up with some of my old cousins that I don’t see too often, so I’m off to find them!”

Melian, now solo, looked for any of her friends in the crowd of hobbits that she could sit with, but to no avail. She did find an empty table for two and decided to take a seat, as the plates she was holding were getting heavy. She started to eat, while still looking around for her friends, and noticed Pippin up on the stage playing with the band. He always had a knack for music, so she was proud to see him up there and using his talents.

Frodo and Merry walked together with hands full of mugs of ale. “Say, isn’t that Melian over there?? Why is she sitting by herself?” Frodo thought aloud. “Not sure… I heard she was going out with Fatty tonight,” Merry observed. The pair sat down side-by-side at a table, joining Sam and another hobbit their age. While the other three hobbits chatted, Merry kept his eyes on Melian. Partially because he found her so nice to look at, but also because he was waiting to see if Fatty would show up and sit with her.

“You should just go talk to her already,” Frodo prompted, causing Merry to come out of his trance. “I don’t know how you mean,” he replied, causing even Sam to shake his head. “C’mon, Merry… everybody knows that you’re fond of my sister… well, except her maybe… the fact is, I saw Fatty sittin’ with the Bolger crew, meanin’ Mel is over there all by herself,” Sam said. Merry looked over at her again, and then mustered up his courage to pick up his ale and stroll over there. What was wrong with him?? He always talked to Melian and had no problems hanging out with her… ever since they were kids… but… why was his heart beating so fast now?

Melian was so entranced by Pippin’s singing that she didn’t notice the young hobbit in a plaid yellow waistcoat approach her from the side until he was right next to her. “Oh!! Merry!!” she said, beaming as she stood up and hugged him out of instinct. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Where have you been?” she asked, sitting back down as he sat down in the seat across from her. “Oh, just drinking some ale with Frodo,” he said, motioning to his mug, and not mentioning anything about her brother or what he said.

“Where’s Fatty? I thought you two were coming together tonight!” Merry observed. “I guess he told you, huh?? Well, we came together, but only because our parents wanted us to… truth is, neither of us wanted to come together… and he wanted to spend some time with his family,” Melian explained. Merry twiddled his thumbs under the table. “Well, you can just stick around with me tonight instead,” he replied, not wanting to know how badly he was probably blushing. “You mean, as… a date?”  Melian asked, able to read between the lines after seeing Merry’s bashful face.

“Only if you want to, that is!  You look too lovely to not have a date tonight,” he replied, causing Melian to chuckle. “Meriadoc Brandybuck… since when were you such a sweet talker??” she teased him. “Don’t poke fun at me, Mel!! I mean it!! Yellow is such a lovely color on you,” he said. “I like yellow because it’s such a happy color, I guess… but I think the reason I like yellow so much is because you wear it often,” she said, blushing. “Who’s sweet talking now??” Merry teased as they both laughed. With similar senses of humor, the pair were used to making each other laugh with their sarcasm and wit.

Pippin watched the whole encounter from the stage… and though he couldn’t hear what they were saying, he could tell that things were going according to plan. As their song ended, he turned to the rest of the band and whispered to them to play one of Melian’s favorite songs. A love ballad that Pippin had written earlier that year, one that she thought paired well with his singing voice. Melian recognized it right away and turned her attention to the stage mid-conversation. “I love this song!!” she said, watching Pippin and listening as she stuffed her mouth with another bite of food.

“Melian Gamgee,” Merry said, getting up from his seat and bowing. “Would you give me the honor of dancing with you?” he asked as he offered her a hand. Her mouth was still full as she chewed, so she couldn’t exactly give an answer, but before she knew it, Merry had taken her hand and swept her off to the dance floor. After swallowing she said, “Mer, you know I’m not a good dancer!” she said embarrassedly. “Don’t worry, just follow my lead!” he said, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and the other in his hand. With his other hand, he placed it on her waist and then began swaying her to the music.

Though she knew Merry was a gentleman, this was one of the first times he had treated her like… well, like a girl. “I don’t think I ever gave you an answer to being your date tonight,” she observed, causing Merry to stop in his tracks and drop his hand. “You’re right… I’m being too hasty, aren’t I?” he said, embarrassedly. She chuckled and took his hand, putting it back on her waist and holding his other hand said, “not at all! If I were to be here with anyone tonight, I wanted it to be you.” Merry grinned from ear-to-ear as they continued to dance, and he wondered if he could be any happier in this moment.

At one point during the dance, Merry locked eyes with Pippin on the stage, who winked at his friend and gave him a thumbs up, making Merry nod at him, as if acknowledging Pip’s apparent working in making sure he and Melian ended up dancing together at this very moment.

[stargatesimp]

I had a dumb meme idea

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 19

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Words: 5.4k

Summary: Minas Tirith is burning and you and Merry arrive on the battlefield. It's time to fight for your lives.

TW's: Blood, violence, death, near death, graphic descriptions, angst

AN: For more feels, re-read chapter 12 before this one ♡

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

-

It felt like every other step the horse took, a tree branch smacked you across the face. No matter how much you tried to dodge the twigs; another scratch formed on your skin. If you pressed your face down; there were leaves tickling the top of your head. Your small grunts of frustration could be heard by everyone who was riding their horses near you. Merry stretched his arm back a little to give your knee a supportive squeeze whenever he noticed any discomfort in you, but eventually even he got irritated by the tough path everyone was traveling through, and he too groaned whenever a branch made his skin sting.

There was still quite a bit of road ahead, but with the lead of King Théoden and some newly found unknown allies, you all took a more discreet route instead of traveling down the main road. Unfortunately, this meant difficult terrains and rough paths.

“Not much longer until we can rest,” Éowyn whispered in your ear. “Please try to hold on.”

“This is frustrating. I am all scratched up!” you complained quietly back to her. 

“Just a little more,” Éowyn encouraged, slightly lowering her tone when she realized Merry was listening. 

“Dernhelm, you can see her?” Merry asked quietly.

“Yes, Merry. Why do you ask?”

Merry tried to turn his head to see your face, but he could not move his body quite enough without discomfort.

“Would you please take a quick look at her scratches? I don't want her to get wounded,” he said. Your body felt like it went limp for a few seconds as a wave of affection rushed through you.

“Of course,” she said and called your name. She gently examined your face as Merry held the reins. After she made sure you were nothing more than a little scratched up, she spoke again. “She seems alright. Nothing to worry about, Merry.”

“Thank you,” Merry responded and squeezed your knee again. You pressed your cheek against his back and he could feel your affectionate smile even through his armor. 

Your own armor had become more of a burden than useful. It was heavy on you and too big for your figure. You thought you would have gotten used to it by then, but every passing second it felt heavier, and you began considering tossing it aside completely.

You shifted your position, trying to get more comfortable and the clinking of the chainmail got the attention of a nearby rider.

“Getting heavy there?” he asked and you nodded, feeling more and more exhausted from holding the chainmail's weight. The man was maybe closer to the King in his age, and he had a few greys here and there in his beard. His green eyes seemed as desperate as any other soldier's, but behind the desperation, they seemed to be holding in a spark of hope and joy.

“Very much so,” you responded to the rider. 

There was a silent agreement with everyone who had traveled near you to keep the presence of you and Merry quiet. They knew how important it was for you both to ride to war with them, so they helped to cover up for you the best they could and at times were even chit chatting you and Merry on the long, difficult road.

“You might still want to hold onto it,” he said quietly, but his tone was firm; almost commanding. As your eyes locked on his, you saw a hint of concern in them. It felt like he was reading your mind. He looked at you for a long time before resuming: “You don't want to get hurt out there. It's better for you to have some form of protection, little one.”

You gave him a tiny, wary nod. Your body was tired and you just wanted to rip off the heavy metal off your body. 

Your thoughts kept circling back to the sense of relief losing the chainmail would bring, but every time you turned your head to the ground to see where you could possibly stop and get rid of it, the rider's eyes locked on yours and his firm gaze kept you in your senses. You needed the armor. 

“I am going to pass out,” you whispered as the darkness surrounded all of you, the lack of rest consuming you, while everyone was riding onward slowly but securely.

“We'll get to rest soon,” Merry said, his tone heavy with worry. “Please, just hold on for a little more.”

“I can't stay awake,” you muttered, fighting a losing battle with your eyelids.

“You can sleep, just do not faint,” Éowyn said softly. She scooted closer to you and so did Merry, making you fit more securely between their bodies.

“Are you certain?” you asked, eyes already closed.

“Yes, sleep now. We will wake you when we come to a halt,” Éowyn said.

And with that, your head hit Merry's back, your cheek squished against his armor and your arms went limp around his waist. Merry took your arms in his lap and held you tightly, even though it made it significantly harder for him to keep his balance in check. He wanted to smile as he felt your warmth against him, but his mind and heart were consumed with worry for you and for his friends.

“Hey,” said Merry softly, as the tip of his finger was poking your thigh. You let out a disapproving grunt before he poked you again. Merry's voice was gentle and almost paternal. “I'm afraid you need to hop off the horse with us and get some proper sleep.”

You sat up straight and rubbed some of the sleep out of your eyes.

“What time is it?” you asked, yawning.

“Late,” Merry responded and hopped off the horse. As he landed on the ground, he reached up and took your hands in his, steadying you before helping you on the ground. His heart fluttered as he felt your delicate hands in his. “But we are almost out of the woods now. Back near the main road.”

“Is the ride long?” you asked as you started scanning for a place to lie down. Merry guided you down to a small secluded area away from the largest groups of riders.

“Not so long. We are closer to Minas Tirith than I would have thought,” Merry responded and sat you down, carefully keeping your sleepy body steady by the small of your back. 

“How come?”

“You see that?” Merry asked and pointed through the trees, where in the distance was a small ball of fire.

“Is that Minas Tirith… on fire?” you asked, nearly panicking and Merry could not hold back a soft, amused chuckle.

“No, no. It is not. It's the hill of Amon Dîn and that is their beacon. At least according to Elfhelm.”

You nodded, half asleep and clueless.

“Of course,” you responded, trying to appear at least slightly awake and aware.

Merry sat down next to you and looked at you, his lips finally curling up into a wide smile. He admired how the soft light of a nearby campfire created dancing shadows on your face that made your eyelashes look even longer than they really were, and how your lips pursed slightly when you pressed your head on his lap. His heart skipped a beat when you cradled up into his lap, but almost instinctively he put his arm around your back and began stroking your hair to soothe you back to sleep.

“Dernhelm?” Merry asked quietly as Éowyn walked past.

“Yes?” she asked, smiling a little as she saw you curled up into a ball in Merry's lap. She found herself puffing her chest slightly when Merry looked her way, hoping it would somehow make her disguise as Dernhelm more believable to the young Hobbit.

“Is it far?”

Éowyn shook her head. Merry gave her a small nod before turning his gaze back to you. Éowyn observed you two for a few more seconds before walking away from you to get some rest, and to give you and Merry some privacy. Merry sighed and admired your sleepy, peaceful face. Your rosy cheeks were partly covered in faint scratches from the tree branches and he softly caressed his thumb over them. You let out a soft, quiet groan of disapproval.

“Is something wrong?” Merry asked.

“You stopped,” you mumbled back with a small pout.

“Stopped what?” Merry responded, confused, as he tried to analyze your face for any clues on your sudden disapproval.

“You stopped caressing my hair,” you pouted, barely aware. Merry's cheeks flushed from affection, and he immediately brushed a stray strand off your face and resumed combing through your hair delicately with his fingers.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” he whispered with a smirk. “It won't happen again.”

“Good,” you mumbled and gave him a tired, approving nod. 

“You know,” Merry whispered after a while, caressing your curls and moving them behind your pointy ears. “You would look rather beautiful with a daisy behind your ear right now.”

He had a big smile on his face despite you not hearing him, as you had fallen into a deep sleep in his comforting embrace. 

You flinched as the loud sound of the horn of Rohan reached your ears. Merry had fallen asleep with his arm on your back and the other one was still resting on the top of your head, likely left there from dozing off while caressing your hair.

“Merry?” you said, sitting up. Merry stirred and stretched his arms. His eyes were half-lidded, and he turned his head left and right, dazed from his deep sleep.

“Hm?” he mumbled. 

“We need to keep going,” you said quietly. 

“How long did we sleep for?” Merry asked, his voice low and heavy with tiredness. “I am still feeling exhausted.”

“Not long,” responded Éowyn with her low tone, still disguising herself in front of Merry. “A few hours at most.”

Merry nodded and stood up, stumbling on his tired feet. The chainmail on you felt heavy on your weary body, and Éowyn had to help you up on your feet.

“Are you sure you can–,” Merry started.

“Yes,” you responded, cutting him off mid sentence. Merry gave you an understanding nod, but his heart was in turmoil; in that moment he feared for your safety more than anything and a small part of him had hoped you would change your mind before arriving at Minas Tirith.

The horses were moving forward faster than before, and the sound of the horses galloping forth was filling the otherwise quiet air. 

You narrowed your gaze and scrunched your nose. A nasty scent spread all around you and your stomach made a backflip.

Smoke.

“I smell smoke,” Merry stated quietly. You gripped his leather armor with your fist, slowly trembling as fear crept up your back. Merry tried his best to keep himself in check and seem courageous, but his fingers were shaking as you approached Minas Tirith.

Screams.

“Merry,” you whimpered quietly and reached for his hand. He instinctively searched for yours and squeezed it tight.

“I know,” he responded.

You closed your eyes and swallowed loudly. Your knees began to feel weak and it was not only the chainmail that was pulling your body down; fear was making your body limp, though the muscles on your arms tensed up. You opened your eyes as the horses began to slow down.

Flames and smoke.

You closed your eyes in an instant and let go of Merry's hand, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist again. Your heart was thumping in your chest, and Éowyn too could feel it as she was pressed against your back, her body tense from fear.

The sound of clashing swords. Screams of terror.

Your ears began to ring. Your body began to shut down, every other sound drowning away, but the sound of your own rapid heartbeat.

Thump.

Thump. 

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Your ears perked up and your eyes flew open.

“Death! Death! Death!” everyone roared, their swords and spears in the air. You felt Merry raise his arm, his battle cry rumbling against your chest. 

“Death!” Merry cried along with the many men and Éowyn. Your throat was too dry to make a sound. And then the horns blew again, seeding courage into the men of Rohan.

Slowly, led by Théoden King, the horses began to gallop, their speed growing faster and faster. From the distance you could see spears and arrows pointed towards your direction, each and every one of them held by orcs, each uglier and scarier than the other.

“Death!” roared Éowyn behind you and her sword swung through the air, taking an orc out swiftly. 

Some men and horses fell down to your left, loud tumbling filling the air. Spears clashed against each other as the horses began running the orcs over, taking them down one by one.

To your right you saw a spear piercing through a horse's chest and an arrow taking down the soldier riding it.

Thump. Down. 

You looked to your left and saw the rider, who had been so concerned for your safety, take a tumble with his horse, both crashing to the ground. As you looked over your shoulder at the man, there was no more hope or joy in his green eyes. There was nothing.

Another one down.

You clung to Merry more tightly and he was swinging his sword in every direction he could, as fast as his body allowed him to move. His heart was beating fast, distractingly fast, but his mind was set on protecting you at all cost.

You heard a roar from an orc, and before your brain had a chance to comprehend what was happening, your arm was already gripping your sword, pointing it towards the source of the roar and piercing the creature with a loud swoosh and splat.

Thump. 

The orc was down.

Your eyes widened as you pulled back your sword and saw that it was covered in black blood. Your hand trembled as your head was filled with images of the orc lying on the ground all those months ago when you were protecting Rath with all the courage you could muster.

You could not move for a while. You held your sword with your right hand and with your left you clung to Merry, your knuckles turning white. All around you were the burdening sounds of war and death. The air smelled rotten and smokey, the chainmail on your body felt more heavy than before and your heart was beating so rapidly you feared it might burst out of your chest.

You looked up at the white city, the first layer of it burning, the front gate busted to dust. Loud cries of women, men, children and orcs were rumbling through the air, and in the sky you could see creatures that looked like they crawled out of your darkest nightmares; they looked like dragons, but much more terrifying and you could only describe them as an omen of death. 

As one of them let out a screech far away, you instinctively felt the need to cover your ears to muffle the horrible sound that pierced your ears; the sound that felt like it emptied your soul. You let go of your sword and Merry and pressed your hands firmly on your ears. Your ears were quivering with fear and your hands were cold. You thought about the first time you had heard those cries; back in Buckland, when Merry, Frodo, Sam and Pippin had first left for their journey. 

And you thought of your dear friend Pippin, who you knew was somewhere in the layered white city in front of you; the city that was starting to get covered in flames and death, and in your heart grew a fear that Pippin might not make it.

‘Poor Pippin!’ you thought. ‘Poor Frodo. and poor Sam! I wonder if they’re alive at all. Is there any hope left?’

Before you had time to give any more space to those thoughts, there was an almost deafening low rumble near your ears, announcing itself and its purpose to destroy.

Thump. Rough ground hit your back.

The horse that was just beneath you let out a loud whinny before getting crushed with a sound that you could never forget.

Éowyn screamed your name. She screamed Merry's name.

But there was no response from Merry; and no response from you. You were laying there in shock, overstimulated by all of the sounds and movements around you, fear darkening your vision and your back hurting severely from the fall.

‘Why is he not answering?’ you thought.

You sprung up on your feet and dodged a few horses that ran past you. Your eyes widened and your knees buckled as you saw a large oliphaunt, harnessed with red banners, charging towards your direction, making it clear it was what brought down the horse the three of you were riding. On top of the mûmakil were war towers, and on them spearmen and archers, each more terrifying than the other.

You stumbled to your left and the large creature stomped its way past you and towards other soldiers. Your breathing was ragged and your legs quivered in fear; you could not see Merry or Éowyn anywhere. All you could see was people facing their demise and the chaos that was surrounding them.

Your eyes scanned the battlefield relentlessly. There were splintering spears and clashing swords, enemies like you had never seen before, and many faces you had seen before - and many that you had not - laying lifeless on the ground, and around the field were spots of ground that were covered in black and red splatters of blood.

There was a round rumbling sound behind you and a crash so loud followed, that you felt your heart stop. Dust and sand spread in the air and blinded you for a moment.

You rubbed the specks of dust out of your eyes and when you opened them and turned around, you could see a large oliphaunt lying dead on the ground. For a split second it felt like Eru himself had laid protective arms over you, for you could not comprehend how you got so lucky the oliphaunt did not crush you to death. 

You turned around again, desperately seeking for Merry with your gaze.

“Merry!” you yelled, your voice raspy and faint from the fear in your heart and the dust in your lungs. “Merry!”

Your eyes widened as you saw an orc sprinting towards you. Its eyes were wide and green, with vertically slit pupils that it used to pierce right to your very soul. The orc's body looked like it was thrown in a bath of boiling water with sugar, and then thrown into a puddle of mud afterwards. As the enemy charged towards you, your knees buckled again. You took a few quick steps back and landed on your back, having stumbled on something. 

You could not believe your luck. It was your own sword you had dropped a moment before when you fell off the horse.

The orc screamed in a high-pitched tone before your sword cut its cries short, piercing through the orcs throat and making it fall limp on the ground next to you, a gurgling noise coming out of its mouth.

Your stomach twisted from the sound and you felt sick; but this was not the time to stay there and linger in dread. 

You sat up as straight as you could, wincing as you started to climb back on your feet. Your heavy armor kept pulling you towards the ground and it limited your ability to stand up, let alone fight. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

“Screw this,” you muttered to yourself in desperation.

Your palms and fingers hurt from pulling the chainmail off, but the second it hit the ground with a clang and a thump, you felt lighter and less fearful. Moving was easier and very swiftly you made it to your feet, the ground steady beneath you.

“Merry!” you screamed again. No response.

You saw a glimpse of a helmet you thought might have been Éowyn's, so without a second thought, you were already running.

Another cry from an orc caught your ears as it ran towards you, but swiftly you took it down, its legs giving up under your quick reaction time and the pierce of your sword. Your feet pattered on the ground and the wind howled in your ears. You called Merry's name and you called Éowyn's, but there was no answer. And she was nowhere to be seen anymore. But you kept running.

It was quick. Suddenly you were at the grumbled gate of Minas Tirith, dodging arrows and crawling by people's feet. It was one of those moments when you felt glad about your small size; you mostly tended to go unnoticed past the enemies, and the ones that saw you, fell to the ground fast.

The stone beneath your feet would have been cold to touch, had it not been taken over by the battle and Sauron's army. Now the lower streets of Minas Tirith were hot and burning, the smoke making it hard to see forth and forcing you to keep crawling at times in order to move forward.

“Merry!” you called out again, but all you could hear were unnatural sounds from orcs and trolls, the screams of dying soldiers and the cries of helpless people, forced to face their doom.

You ran up a street, not seeing two feet in front of you. Your fingers crossed you went forward, hoping to find Merry, Éowyn - or even Pippin; anyone who could give you comfort and a sense of security. And more than anything, you needed to see they were alright.

The smoke was making you cough uncontrollably and your eyes were stinging and watering. Finally you stepped on stone that felt a little cooler than the others as you made your way closer to the next level of the city. 

You gasped for air as you finally pushed through the smoke and made your way above it, onto a platform. You looked around through a misty vision and tried to search for any familiar faces through your growing desperation, but it was no use.

Nipping pain.

Merry was crawling on all fours, eyes closed and his body trembling in fear. His mind was set on finding you, but he could not get his body to respond. The large shadow passing over him felt too overwhelming and both his head and body refused to follow his orders.

And then he heard a strange noise. A high-pitched, almost proud laughter.

“No living man am I!”

As he opened his eyes, he saw her. There was Éowyn, her hair golden and her eyes sparkling with bravery, yet grim with an acceptance of death. 

In front of her stood the Witch-King, large, terrifying and dark, and he made Merry's blood cold. He was standing there, speechless as in front of him stood a woman, threatening to smite him if he laid his hands upon what Éowyn held the dearest; King Théoden.

The black figure swung his flail at Éowyn, and though many she dodged, one stroke fell on her shield and splintered it, along with it her arm.

Merry's heart was full of pity, fear and determination. He could not allow her to die, not alone. She meant a lot to him; and even more to you. He thought of you and how much you meant to him; how much he hoped you were alright; and how much he hoped you would forgive him, for he was certain he was now facing the end.

He crawled quietly behind the dark figure, lifted his blade and struck.

With a deafening screech the Witch-King crumbled down to his knees and Merry's right arm fell cold.

“Éowyn! Éowyn!” Merry cried, and the shieldmaiden pierced the enemy with her sword. The Witch-King of Angmar withered before them and all that was left was an empty helmet and cloak.

Éowyn fell unconscious before Merry, and he did not know if she had died. Whether or not, in front of him was also lying Théoden King, death in his eyes and blood on his mouth. Merry crawled up to him, to the man who he had started to see as a father, tears in his eyes, his gaze darting between the King and the pale, unconscious shieldmaiden of Rohan.

You looked to your right and the orc lifted its sword again. You swung your own weapon so quickly the orc did not have time to defend, and with a loud crash it fell through rubble and onto the street below you.

You touched your lower belly and winced. Something did not feel right.

The cries had quieted down. Some of the most courageous ones were still fighting, but many enemies had either retreated or had been slain. Many soldiers, good and bad, were lying dead on the battlefield and the streets of Minas Tirith.

Merry did not look at them. All he could do was try and stay awake; his arm had gone numb and cold, his eyes were misty and his brain was in an overdrive. Were you hurt? Was Éowyn dead? Were Pippin, Boromir and Gandalf safe inside the walls of Minas Tirith? Or was everything lost?

He was following other people who carried the King and Éowyn towards the upper levels of the city, but at some point he absent mindedly made a turn to an alley, where to his surprise and joy, he ran into Pippin.

“Merry! Thank goodness I've found you!” Pippin said, his heart lighter and his eyes lighting up from relief. He was wearing a black armor, decorated by the white tree of Gondor.

“Pippin?” Merry asked, tears in his eyes.

Merry stumbled into his arms, hugging him with his working arm as tight as he could and Pippin helped him to sit down. 

“Gandalf sent me to look for you when you didn't arrive with the others. I am so glad to see you again!” Pippin said, hugging him tightly. He pulled back slightly and looked at him, worried. “But are you hurt? Are you wounded?”

“No,” Merry stammered. “Maybe. I can't feel my arm. I can't use it at all. Not since… Where… where is she? It's all going dark again, help me, Pippin!”

“It's alright,” Pippin reassured and put one of his arms around Merry, lifting him up on his feet. “Come now! Foot by foot. It's not far.”

“Are you going to bury me?”

Pippin's heart filled with pity and fear.

“No, Merry. I'm going to look after you. We are going to the houses of healing.”

They walked the streets of Minas Tirith together and Pippin quietly listened to Merry, who was mumbling to himself; mostly mumbling your name. Pippin’s heart twisted and stomach turned. ‘Poor Merry,’ he thought. ‘Still feeling burdened from leaving her behind.’

“Pippin!” shouted Boromir as the two came to his view and he quickly ran towards the Hobbits. He kneeled in front of Merry and touched his cheek gently, trying to get eye contact with him. “Merry, can you hear me?”

Merry did not respond vocally, but he lifted his gaze to Boromir. He felt the urge to smile, but he felt too weak to do so. Merry had missed him dearly; like a big brother he was, but his arm was burdening him and it felt like death was trying to claim him.

And suddenly Pippin pat Merry's shoulder.

“Merry?” Pippin asked in distress and shock. Merry looked at Pippin and turned his gaze to the direction his friend was gesturing at.

Merry’s stomach turned and a surge of adrenaline pumped through his veins. He sprinted off of Pippin's and Boromir's grasps.

“Merry!” Boromir called out and before he had time to do anything, Pippin was running after Merry.

Merry knelt beside you and with his uninjured arm he lifted your head on his lap.

“No, no,” Merry mumbled, his heart shattering at the sight. When he got your head comfortably on his lap he reached his hand on your wound, blocking the bleeding the best he could. “It's alright. You're alright.”

“Merry,” you gasped through your tears. “Please, help me.”

“You're alright,” Merry said, visibly panicking. Pippin knelt down on your other side, looking at the blood leaking out of your stomach, his eyes widening in horror. He thought you were safely in Buckland.

“Boromir!” Pippin called. Boromir made his way beside you and he too kneeled down, a confused look on his face.

“Who is–”

“Help her!” Pippin begged. Boromir nodded and ripped a part of his cloak off, pressing it on your wound to slow down the bleeding. You winced from pain and more tears poured from your eyes.

“You're alright,” Merry repeated. He couldn't manage to say anything else; he needed to reassure you and himself. “You're alright.”

“I'm going to die,” you sobbed, gasping for air, while your brain was fuzzy from the shock and your ears ringing from the pain. Your fingers were cold in Pippin’s hands as he held to you, trying his best to provide some comfort.

“You're not going to die,” Merry said, his voice cracking. He put his hand on your cheek, firmly, but with care. He gazed into your eyes with a stern look. “You're not allowed to die.”

You nodded, though your vision was growing more blurry. You looked up at the sky and noticed there was a twinkling, bright star showing for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. A small smile crept up on the corner of your mouth as you gazed at the sky above, gasping for air again, your chest heaving raggedly.

“I've heard much about you, Miss Baggins,” Boromir said suddenly, trying to soothe down your nerves, hoping to calm Merry and Pippin down in the process.

You chuckled through your tears of pain and fear. “And I of you. Boromir, son of Denethor, I presume?”

“What gave it away?” he asked with a soft smile.

“You look like a true soldier,” you responded. His smile would have comforted you, but you could see it in his eyes; he was certain you were dying. You looked back up at the sky, your heart pounding faster from fear.

“You're alright,” Merry said again, his voice cracking from dread. He turned to look at Pippin and Boromir. “Is… is there… she needs help,” he stuttered, tears in his eyes.

“Gandalf is coming,” Boromir said, but his tone was not reassuring. “He said he would follow me right behind.”

Merry nodded, trying to find relief in Boromir's words, but as he looked back into your eyes, his relief was long gone and he began to feel hopeless.

“You're alright,” he said again.

“Merry,” you stuttered, tears falling from your eyes as you whimpered in pain. Boromir pressed your wound harder and you let out a loud cry of pain. “Merry, I'm going to die. And I….I…”

“You’re not going to die,” he said, his tone desperate and his last bit of bravery crumbling. He had now forgotten about his own pain completely, his mind consumed by looming grief.

“I…”

“I know. You're alright,” Merry said and ran his hand through your hair tenderly, his eyes wet and his gaze pleading desperately. “You're not going to die."

You swallowed as your vision started to blur more.

“I don't want to die,” you said, your voice barely a whisper now. Merry let out a sob. Pippin closed his eyes, crying silently, his heart growing heavy with fear.

“You're not going to die,” he said, lips quivering. He moved his hand to caress your cheek again. “I promised Frodo I would keep you safe.”

You tried to get a word out, but your mouth had gone dry and it took all of your strength just to stay awake. You focused your gaze solely on Merry, and you squeezed Pippin's hand weakly. Your ears were ringing loudly.

“Boromir, do something!” Pippin weeped, and Merry's fingers trembled on your cheek. Boromir kept pressing the wound; it was all he could do.

“You can't leave me,” Merry whispered through tears. You said nothing as your vision grew more hazy and your grip on Pippin's hand weakened. Pippin looked at Merry, falling apart, trying to hold your hand harder, hoping it would somehow give you enough strength. 

“Merry!” Pippin panicked. 

“Please, don't go,” Merry begged in despair and held your cheek more firmly, caressing it lovingly. “Please. Don't leave me. I need you here. You can't… you can't leave me behind. Please, don't go.”

Your ears stopped ringing and everything went black.

NEXT CHAPTER

---

@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked @channiesbedbug @nicksworld0715

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Characters who give off ‘golden retriever boyfriend who loves their goth girlfriend’ vibes

[buggreawlthys]

suddenly Merry awoke, and he said:

'I am hungry. What is the time?'

- ICONIC

[i-wear-sunglasses-inside]

That one scene in the two towers

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

I probably need to reread LOTR from the beginning because somehow I managed misread non-comprehend:

- There is not one single Hobbit by the name Merry Pippin who for some reason is sometimes called by his surname. Merry and Pippin are two separate Hobbits.

- Goldberry is not, as I thought, Tom's best friend who is in love with him but respects his boundaries and knows he will never love her back this way. because his first wife died and he never got over her. How did I even get there.

[sponge-goblin-art]

This was a hit elsewhere idk why I never posted it here

Drawings for the pictures below the cut

[lightasthesun]

KLAUDS BOYFRIEND IS MERRY?? I didn't see that coming.

The lotr crossover none of us wanted.

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 15

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Words: 6.9k

Summary: Merry continues his journey, while your journey with Rath is about to escalate. He tells you the truth about why he saved you.

Possible TW's: violence, death, blood, near-drowning

AN: The appearence of the fic dialogue-wise keeps changing when I put it on tumblr so if it changes throughout, my apologies. Comments and reblogs are more than appreciated :3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

---

Merry yawned softly. The stars were almost completely hidden by the veil of clouds and the moon was barely visible. Merry turned on his side and shut his eyes for a few more minutes, desperate for some proper rest.

Despite Merry’s attempts he could not fall asleep, so he got up, rubbed his eyes gently with his fists and looked around to see if anyone but Aragorn was awake. 

Pippin was sleeping peacefully next to him, Legolas and Gandalf were nowhere in sight, Boromir was fast asleep and Gimli was snoring so loudly that Merry was surprised no one had woken up because of it yet. Aragorn was sitting on a large rock smoking his pipe and Bill the Pony was eating grass next to a sound asleep Sam, who Merry was surprised to see was not with Frodo. Merry noticed all of Frodo’s things abandoned on the ground next to Sam. He decided it was best to find out his friend’s whereabouts.

He did not have to look far. Frodo was sitting on the cool ground staring at the night sky, his spirit gloomy.

“Why are you awake?” Merry asked, startling Frodo.

“Merry! I thought everyone would be asleep by now,” cried Frodo.

“No. I can't seem to sleep,” said Merry, sitting down next to Frodo. It was deeply dark all around them and the only sound they could hear was Gimli's snoring. “Do you know where Gandalf and Legolas have gone? I did not see them anywhere.”

“I do not know,” Frodo responded, shrugging his shoulders. “Truth be told, I did not know they were gone. I thought at least Gandalf would be sound asleep. Legolas maybe too.”

“Huh. Do elves even sleep?” Merry wondered out loud. Frodo chuckled softly.

The two sat in silence for a while. Small gusts of December wind made them shiver every now and then, but otherwise the night was not too cold. The stars had now completely veiled and Gimli had stopped snoring. It was dead quiet.

“I can't help but feel guilty,” said Frodo suddenly. Merry stared at him with pity.

“We are here because we want to,” said Merry, but Frodo shook his head dismissively.

“I'm talking about leaving my sister behind,” Frodo corrected and Merry's heart broke a little. “She means the world to me and I left her. I miss her terribly. I don't suppose I'll ever see her again.”

“Frodo…”

“I do wish she was here,” Frodo continued with a sigh. “Not among the horrible dangers we are surrounded with of course, but just with us.”

Merry stayed quiet. Of course he felt that way too, but so far Frodo had not talked about his feelings or concerns about you during the journey, so he wanted to give him more space to talk about you. After Frodo said nothing for a long time, Merry dared to speak.

“I know what you mean. She would have loved Rivendell,” said Merry and a wide smile appeared on Frodo's face.

“She really would have. I tried teaching her Elvish several times, but she never quite got the hang of it. She was very fond of the Elves, though. I caught her and Sam chatting about them several times while he was gardening.”

Merry smiled. He felt slightly better when he was thinking about you back before all of the chaos had fallen on all of you.

“Imagine how much she would have loved all of those fresh fruits they provided to us!” Merry said, chuckling softly.

“She wouldn't have left any for us,” joked Frodo and both of them laughed whole-heartedly.

“Mister Frodo, what are you doing up?” said Sam, who had made his way to the two Hobbits without them noticing.

“Nothing to worry about, Sam,” Frodo responded. “You should go back to sleep. I have Merry here with me.”

“But Mister Frodo…”

“It's alright, Sam,” Frodo said and smiled warmly. “You need to rest.”

Sam blushed and nodded. Feeling a little defeated he walked back to his spot and crawled under the covers, but still stayed awake for a while, keeping an eye on Frodo.

Merry and Frodo talked for an hour more, before both of them finally felt tired enough to go and get some sleep; but also because Gimli, not so politely, told them to be quiet. 

They did not get to sleep for long, as the sun slowly rose behind the thick mist, shining light in their eyes. The first rays of morning sun looked almost ethereal, pieces of it sneaking through the clouds.

“Gentlemen, it is time to continue with our journey,” announced Aragorn. Pippin groaned and pulled his blanket over his head. Merry walked to Pippin and pulled his blanket off, making him grunt again, his expression very displeased.

“Get up,” said Merry while softly kicking Pippin's side.

“Do I have to?” cried Pippin, covering his eyes with his arms.

“Come on,” said Frodo, a hint of amusement in his voice and he lifted Pippin up with Merry.

There were nothing but large, threatening yet beautiful mountains to their left, and in all other directions all was plain and dead. Merry's feet felt tired. It had been a long and cold walk. The wind was blowing through the snowy tips of the Misty Mountains and all four Hobbits were trembling. The sun was not high enough yet to provide enough warmth. Legolas on the other hand walked gleefully around, keeping watch on their surroundings and wandering off to admire the sky and sun every now and then.

When they finally stopped for a small break, Merry lowered himself down on the ground on his back. His exhaustion was getting the best of him and even though he was ravenous, the cool ground and getting some rest felt more inviting than any piece of bread or drop of water.

Merry closed his eyes for a bit, putting his arms over his eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight. 

“You should eat, Merry,” noted Boromir and Merry quietly waved it off.

After some time of shivering on the ground Merry decided to get up and have a bite. He sat up and noticed that everyone in the group was focused on listening to Aragorn’s stories except Frodo, who was sitting a short distance from them, holding something in his hands. Merry began walking up to Frodo and to his amazement, he noticed that there was a small flower in his friend's hands. Frodo noticed Merry approaching and smiled faintly.

“I found it just a moment ago,” he said to Merry. “It had pushed through the gravel.”

It would have been a signal of hope, had it not been wilted. It was a dead daisy, its appearance piercing through Merry's heart; to him it felt like a bad omen. His heart was telling him that you were not safe. Frodo handed over the flower to Merry, who looked at it with concern, his whole body tensing up.

“Frodo?” said Merry quietly.

“Yes, Merry?” responded Frodo, slightly concerned by Merry’s tense exterior.

“I can’t help but feel uneasy. I feel like something is wrong,” Merry said anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Frodo asked. 

“Do you think she has left the Shire?” Merry said, twirling the dead daisy by its stem. He tended to fidget with anything he could hold in his hands when he was missing you. Merry sighed, his breath shaky. He continued: “That she decided to go after us?”

Frodo’s heart sank for a moment, but then he gave Merry a gentle smile, softly squeezing his shoulder.

“She wouldn’t,” he responded, knowing deep down that he was lying to both himself and Merry.

“Do we know for sure?” said Merry, his eyes full of sadness and increasing fear. Frodo looked at him and then at the flower. In his heart he knew it was very much possible that you were in danger, hurt or worse; and both of them knew you were more than likely to have followed them.

Throughout the day Frodo's anxiety grew, which Gandalf took note of rather quickly.

“What's on your mind, Frodo?” Gandalf asked as the night fell on them. Frodo was wide awake, while everyone else was sound asleep around them; except Boromir, who was on watch that night.

“My sister, Gandalf. I worry she might have left the Shire,” Frodo responded. Gandalf tilted his head, looking at him with a curious expression.

“What makes you think this way?” Gandalf asked.

“It's a feeling. A sense of dread and almost a suffocating worry.”

“My dear Frodo,” said Gandalf in a comforting tone. “You need not to worry about what you can't control. Even if your sister has left the Shire, I am sure she is safe and sound.”

“She has absolutely no sense of direction, Gandalf,” Frodo said, covering his face with his palm. Gandalf tried to hide his amusement at the thought of you wandering around the Shire and near its borders cluelessly. “She probably has left the Shire and walked straight into the hands of orcs.”

“That is very unlikely, Frodo,” said Gandalf. “You need to stop letting your mind spiral and focus on what is in your hands; what you can control.”

Frodo sighed. He knew Gandalf was right. He had no way of knowing if you were alright or not. He couldn't possibly know if you had even stepped outside of your room for months.

“You're right, Gandalf. All of my thoughts just feel… heavy.”

Gandalf gave Frodo a warm smile, but his eyes were troubled.

“You are carrying a heavy burden, Frodo,” said Gandalf, looking at Frodo's chest around the area where the Ring was resting. “Do not take on more burden and worry than you already are carrying.”

Frodo gave him a faint nod. Gandalf reached for the wooden and curiously carved pipe on his belt. He offered Frodo some Old Toby as well, but after he refused, Gandalf settled on smoking the pipe-weed alone as Frodo sat next to him, his heart still heavy.

Merry had Pippin around his arm. They lockstepped forward cheerfully as the rest of the Fellowship were almost left behind. The temperature finally felt more comfortable than it had for weeks and that gave the young halflings a boost of energy that was quite irritating for almost everyone else around them. The two did not mind being a possible disturbance and they kept singing songs whilst hopping forward cheerfully, and they laughed so loudly it echoed all around them. Boromir looked at Merry and Pippin and he smiled wide, his teeth showing. Boromir had gotten to know both of them quite well and every passing moment he grew more fond of them. He slowly adapted an almost big brother-like role in the lives of Merry and Pippin, which gave them both a sense of stability and security. 

“How are you feeling?” Boromir asked Merry as they sat down for a little bit of rest along with everyone else. Merry was in the middle of biting into his apple, the juice of the fruit now lingering on his lips as he stared at Boromir, surprised by his question.

“I’m alright,” he responded. As he looked at the sturdy warrior beside him, he noticed some darkness in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Boromir looked down at his hands. He was softly brushing his thumb on the horn that was hanging near his waist. His mind was elsewhere; the Ring was tempting him and he needed a distraction.

“Truth be told, I have been worried about you, Merry,” said Boromir, his gaze soft and eyes locked on Merry. Merry turned his face away. He knew what Boromir was about to ask and his heart began to hurt. He had gone most of the day finally thinking about something other than his worry for you and he craved more time to distract himself from reality.

“I am alright,” Merry said, eyes on the ground and avoiding Boromir’s gaze. Boromir shook his head.

“I can tell that you are not. I have seen how absent your mind is when Pippin is not around to take your thoughts elsewhere.”

It was true. Pippin noticed the changes in Merry’s mood quicker than anyone else and he was always by his side in an instant. Whether it was through food, song or joking around, Peregrin made sure that Merry’s heart would feel just a little bit lighter. He was a source of light for Merry as he so desperately needed it. 

Merry stood up and left Boromir sitting alone. He made his way next to Pippin and the two immediately started joking around. Merry laughed at Pippin’s banter but the laugh did not come from his heart. Boromir and Merry exchanged meaningful looks once more until Merry got back to his distractions.

“What day is it, Gandalf?” asked Pippin, walking fast beside the Wizard, trying his best to keep up as he was so little. 

“What does it matter, Peregrin Took?” asked Gandalf, irritated by the fifth question in a row that the young Took had presented. “Why must you be so inquisitive today? Can you go do something useful for once, instead of giving me a hard time?”

Pippin apologized, his frame sinking as he walked back to Merry.

“I told you,” said Merry. “You shouldn’t bother him too much, Pip. He gets annoyed easily.”

“Meriadoc is right, Peregrin,” Gandalf commented. Merry and Pippin slowed down as they had not realized he was still in the hearing distance. As he walked further away, he continued: “I do get annoyed when young Hobbits bother me and ask me stupid questions.”

“What is he, an owl? How did he hear that?” asked Merry.

“No, Master Meriadoc, I am not an owl,” Gandalf said loudly from a distance and Merry gulped. It made him wonder how well the Wizard could actually hear and how many of their conversations he had been eavesdropping on. Merry stopped Pippin by his arm so they could have their private conversations without Gandalf listening to them.

“I think he needs more pipe-weed to calm his nerves,” Pippin whispered and Merry snickered. 

“I think so too,” said Merry and reached into his satchel. He pulled out the last remaining pipe-weed he had, walked a little forward towards Gandalf and Pippin smacked his hand. 

“Merry!” Pippin whispered in shock. “You can’t actually go give Gandalf your last leaf! You promised me some!”

Merry chuckled and pulled out his own pipe.

“Pip, I was only joking. I am desperately craving pipe-weed and I am going to smoke the last of it as we walk. You can join me or not.”

Pippin smiled and bounced on his feet. He took his own wooden pipe from his belt where it was hanging from and smiled widely. The two were beginning to be left behind when Aragorn noticed them standing far away, where they were lighting up their last remaining pipe-weed.

“Merry! Pippin!” Aragorn shouted, his voice gentle but commanding. His shout sounded like one of a frustrated parental figure and it made Merry cough uncontrollably. Pippin smacked his back and after a moment of collecting himself, Merry took a sip of water and the two got back to the group. As the smoke and smell of the pipe-weed surrounded them all, Gandalf rolled his eyes.

“Hobbits,” he muttered to himself and lit up his own pipe.

—

Your breath was shaky as you stopped in your tracks.

“Rath,” you panted and he walked back to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand on your shoulder and the wound on his palm bleeding on your cloak.

“My ankle hurts again,” you said, tears in your eyes. The pain was almost insufferable. You did not want to bother your friend, so you had kept the pain to yourself for several hours. As the aching got worse by the minute, you no longer could take it. It felt like arrows had been shot toward you and all of them landed on your twisted ankle. There was still a day of travel ahead and at first you were determined to make it there on your own; you couldn’t handle the idea of Rath having to carry you all the way to Isengard.

Just a few moments earlier an orc had ambushed you both and Rath got wounded; not in a way that was worse than any of his previous damages throughout his life, but his palm was cut deeply. Rath did not seem to mind it but seeing it made you feel slightly sick.

“Did something happen when we got ambushed?” he asked.

“No,” you said, shaking your head and a tear falling from your eye as the level of the pain began rising. “It’s been hurting for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he cried and sat down on the ground on his knees. He began examining your ankle. It was swollen and bruised; much worse than it was the previous day. “You should have let it heal longer. You should have told me. You know I can carry you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Rath smiled. He found your insecurity and apologetic nature heartwarming. They were some of the traits he saw in you that reminded him of his little sister. Many of your traits in fact you shared with his sister. One that stood out to him the most was the child-like enthusiasm and curiosity you had begun to show him after traveling together for a rather long time. 

“You are quite amusing, Baggins. You are no burden. I am happy to carry you.”

He guided you to sit down on the ground and elevate your leg on a nearby rock. He wrapped a cloth around it tightly, supporting the ankle as much as he could. He had some herbs with him that would ease the pain once mixed with some hot water, so he started a fire and made you a mixture that would soon lessen your agony.

“Are we far?” you asked.

“Far from what?” Rath asked, now dipping a cloth in the herb mixture, soaking it hot. He began pressing it softly on the swollen parts of your ankle. You hissed and bit your lower lip to hold back your reaction to the stinging sensation.

“Isengard.”

Rath moved the cloth around the ankle, pressing ever so slightly on one spot for a few seconds before moving to another.

“No, we are not far. Like I said, a day or two. If you allow me to carry you, I believe we will make it there by morning, if we are lucky.”

You felt some hope rise to the surface. Help was near and with luck you would soon find Merry, your brother and your friends. 

“Are we going to rest before that?” you asked, already tired even though it was barely noon.

“If you need to. We can go as far as you feel like you can and then we can rest. I still have some mushrooms for you to eat later, if you are interested.”

Your eyes lit up from excitement and Rath looked at you, his head tilted and adoration in his eyes. He found the way that hobbits became fiends at the mention of mushrooms alluring and he loved teasing you with it ever since he learned about it.

“Any chance I could have some now?” you inquired, eyes full of hope. Rath laughed loudly.

“No, not yet,” he responded and you frowned. You did not realize the pain on your ankle was mostly gone. “I think you have to wait just a little bit longer, little one.”

“Why?” you cried in an almost child-like manner. He smiled and shook his head. You noticed the warm expression on his face and you tilted your head curiously. “What?”

“It’s just that sometimes you really remind me of my little sister.”

“I do? How come?”

Rath kept pressing the cloth on your ankle. The small fire he had lit up began dying down as you waited for his response eagerly. 

“It’s just the way you talk and behave sometimes.”

“Behave?” you asked, narrowing your gaze.

“You can be quite childish,” he smirked and you gave him a playful push on his shoulder.

“Shut up,” you said with a chuckle. Your eyes widened as you realized the pain in your ankle was gone and Rath had begun to press the cloth on the wound on his own hand instead. You reached for the cloth and took it from him gently. He looked at you, puzzled and tried to take it back.

You held his hand still with your free hand. Softly you began to tap the damp cloth on the wound. Rath did not move his eyes off you for the whole time you took care of him. His bleeding slowly stopped after it had lasted for over half an hour and Rath began to stitch it himself with a needle and thread he had in his bag. You were always surprised by the amount of convenient equipment he carried with him.

“Thank you for that,” he said. To you he seemed almost embarrassed by showing vulnerability, but you did not see the guilt in his heart that he was hiding. When he finished patching himself up, he stood up and offered you his hand. “It’s time to go.”

Your laughter was so loud Rath had to put his hand over your mouth to quiet you down. The stories you both were sharing were ones of hilarious nature, so it was hard to keep it down and you forgot to be wary of the dangers around you.

“Sorry!” you whispered as he took his hand off your lips, your voice still cracking from amusement. Rath looked around the both of you and after he declared it was safe, he cracked up as well. Both of you giggled quietly, trying to not erupt into a laughter that would wake up every living thing around you.

“Do you want the mushrooms now?” Rath asked and you noticed he was holding a large pile of mushrooms in his hands. Their color was almost golden in the light of the campfire and your mouth began watering at the sight of them.

With a swift scoop you took all of the mushrooms to yourself and started shoving them in your mouth so quickly that one might have thought you had not eaten in days. Rath chuckled and shook his head. “Are they that good?”

“You have no idea,” you responded and took another handful of mushrooms from his grasp. You ate them so quickly you barely had any time to savor the earthy flavors. 

“I am glad you enjoy them,” Rath said and rested his arms on his knees, staring into the fire across from him. The sight reminded you of the first night you met him. He had the same look in his eyes, but behind them was now more compassion than before. The aura around him was tense.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him and he turned to look at you.

“My sister,” he responded and handed over the last mushrooms he had with him. You scooped them up and ate them immediately.

“What about your sister?”

“Just how much I miss her.”

“When are you going to see her?”

“Hopefully soon. I just need to… get you help first.”

You took a deep breath. You could not help but feel a little responsible for his sadness. You were the one to keep him occupied for so long. There was a part in you that wanted to send him back to his home so you could find your own way to the White Wizard and he would get to hug his family again; but you needed him. You needed someone to help you.

“Do you want to go home?” you asked and he furrowed his brows.

“Of course I do. But I need to finish this first.”

You shuffled right beside him and put your head on his shoulder, gently resting it there. You could feel him take a deep breath.

“I really do appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Rath.”

He took another deep breath and laid his head on top of yours. He said nothing, but you could feel the warmth and affection radiating from him. You had started to see him as family and he had become one of the closest friends you had ever had.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly. It was still dark, the campfire was still warm and your head was still resting on Rath’s shoulder. You had fallen asleep and were not sure how long you had been unconscious.

“I think I fell asleep,” you said, your voice raspy and faint.

“It seems that way,” Rath responded and chuckled. He was no longer resting against you, but he did not seem to be disturbed by your closeness and the way you used him as a pillow.

“Did I sleep for long?”

“Maybe an hour or so,” he answered and threw a piece of wood to the bright, golden flames. “The sun will come up in a few hours, if you need to sleep some more. We are not far.”

“I don’t need to,” you responded, even though your body was screaming for more rest.

“Whatever you say.”

You walked to the other side of the fire and dug into your bag. You were low on water, but your thirst had increased and you needed to hydrate. You chugged down the rest of your water in one go and put the bottle back in the bag. In slow steps you sat back down on the ground, resting against Rath some more.

“Why have you been so nice to me?” you asked. You had wondered about it for quite some time now. He had taken care of you for so long, but still you were not entirely sure whether you knew the whole truth. You did not understand why he had helped a worn out halfling he found passed out on the ground. “Why have you helped me all the way here?”

Rath did not answer right away. Instead he just stared into the fire and stayed so still he looked like a statue to you.

“You were in need of help,” he finally responded. “You were on the brink of death. I did not want that to happen.”

Your heart fluttered from affection. His words impacted you deeply and the sisterly love for him inside you grew every passing moment.

“You have saved me from the brink of death. There was no need for you to help me this far.”

“I wanted to help you. Partly for my own selfish reasons.”

You tilted your head and looked at him, almost thirsty to know more.

“Selfish reasons?” you repeated. He did not answer. “Rath?”

He leaned a little away from you and finally turned his gaze away from the fire, locking his eyes with you.

“Selfish reasons.”

“I heard you, Rath. I’m just curious: what were the reasons?”

Rath looked away again. His gaze drifted into the darkness across your campsite, into the depths of the forest and seemingly into another dimension. You could see his warm presence slowly fade away.

“I saw you laying there. I saw a helpless, little halfling. I needed to make sure you were alive. I had to nurse you back to health. And… It took longer than I expected. Then you started reminding me of my little sister.”

“I have to say you lost me. None of that is selfish, is it?”

“Just listen to me,” he snapped and your heart skipped a beat. This was the first time he had been so quick-tempered with you. He continued: “You started reminding me of my little sister every passing day and it made everything harder. I took different routes than I intended, just because you made me feel like I was at home with her.”

You smiled at him fondly. His reasons seemed perfectly valid to you; of course he missed her and if that made him want to be around you more, that was alright with you. Though, one thing he said bothered you.

“What do you mean it made everything harder?”

Rath swallowed and went completely silent. You could barely hear his breathing. The fire was dancing around gently and you could hear the crackling of the sparks. Rath’s exterior grew tense.

“There were rumors.”

“Rumors?”

Rath looked at you again. There was a deep, almost threatening blackness in his eyes as he looked at you. It made your breath hitch for a moment. You had never seen him look so dark.

“Rumors about something of great value being carried around. Something of immense power.”

“And you thought I could help with it?” you deducted, listening to him patiently and waiting for a more clear explanation. Rath seemed to be dragging it on and on, not entirely certain how to continue.

“They did not clarify what it was. Just that there was a prize for whoever brought it to Saruman.”

“Saruman?” you whispered, confused.

“The White Wizard.”

“Is that the reason we are going to Isengard? Did you find the item and not tell me?”

Rath did not respond. He looked at the grass beneath you and his face was blank.

“They said it was being carried by someone,” Rath continued, his voice almost cold now. “By a halfling.”

A wave of anxiety rushed through you and filled your heart. Your stomach twisted slightly at his words; words that you did not yet understand.

“What?”

“They said a halfling was carrying a great treasure and the one who brought it to him would redeem a great prize. And the halfling carrying it should be brought in alive and unharmed. And there were more rumors…”

“Rumors?” you asked again, your heart beating slightly faster. It felt like something heavy was pressing on your heart and shivers crept up your spine. Something was wrong.

“Rumors about the halfling. That the halfling carried the name ‘Baggins.’”

You moved away from him quickly. Not far, but you were no longer resting against him.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is not easy for me. I did not think I would grow so fond of you. I care about you.”

You stood up and took a step back from him. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, but his face was now cold and he was squeezing his fist roughly.

“Rath?” you said shakily. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your throat and your legs started to feel weak. It felt like your body was about to collapse.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way. The prize is too great. I need it. My family needs it. If you just give me the brooch, I can probably let you go,” he said, standing up and taking a step toward you. You took a few small steps back. His aura was now slightly threatening and your blood was going cold.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just give it to me!” he said, his voice now loud and commanding. He took two quick steps toward you and tried to reach for the daisy brooch on your chest. Your breath hitched and you backed away from him again. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was a gift. It’s not–”

“Give me the damn thing!” Rath said, raising his voice. You felt tears rise to your eyes.

“No!” you cried and covered the brooch with your left hand. “It’s just a brooch! Please, stop this. You’re scaring me!”

Rath took several aggressive steps towards you and grabbed your hand. You squeezed the brooch tightly and he began trying to wrestle it off of you. Of course it was just a brooch, but Rath did not know it.

“Fucking give it to me!” he shouted, his eyes burning with rage. Your heart was beating so fast you could no longer hear properly. Dread took you over and you managed to squirm yourself off his grasp, falling on your side on the ground. You looked up at him, terrified, as you stumbled on your feet while getting back up. He was filled with rage. “I have to do this. I don’t want to have to hurt you!”

“No,” you responded with a shaky voice. You took one glance at your backpack, but it was out of your reach. You looked to your right but there was nothing you could use to defend yourself. Your head was spinning. Rath was betraying you. Rath’s gaze narrowed.

“You give me no choice,” he said, his voice dark and shaky. He started walking towards you with large, rage-filled steps. Your heart jumped and before you even realized it, you were running away with no sense of direction. It was still dark and you could not see ahead. Your only choices were to surrender to your friend who had betrayed your trust or to run for your life. You ran head first into the deep woods and did not look back. You could hear Rath’s heavy footsteps behind you as you ran and the wind howled in your ears.

—

“One more time!” Merry said, clapping his hands together once. 

“Alright, alright!” Pippin responded and picked up another acorn off the ground. He lifted it to the same level as his eyes and stuck his tongue out as he focused on his aim. With a gentle movement he threw the acorn towards Merry. Merry lifted his arm up quickly and caught the acorn mid-air.

“Yes!” shouted Merry and Pippin at the same time. Frodo and Boromir clapped at them enthusiastically, supporting their accomplishment. They had been throwing acorns for a while to pass the time and Merry and Pippin had managed to catch ten in a row. It was a silly way to pass the time, but Gandalf was busy thinking and they had to do something before moving forward.

“Can I try again? I believe I can beat your record,” Boromir said and smirked at Merry. 

“Go ahead. Though, I doubt it!”

Boromir chuckled and switched places with Pippin. He sat on the ground, his legs crossed and he picked up several acorns, throwing them at Merry all at once. A few hit him in the face, while the rest of them flew past him or dropped in his lap.

“Oh, my bad!” Boromir grinned.

“What was that about?” Merry cried, rubbing his stinging face.

“I just wanted to prove that you are no champion. I managed to catch five of them at once, after all.”

“You have bigger hands!” Merry responded and Boromir laughed loudly. “Besides, I was supposed to throw acorns for you to catch to prove you wrong.”

“Alright, alright!” Boromir said, his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to mess with you, Merry. Do your best.”

Merry took a few acorns and put them on his left palm. He took one at a time, and by the eight one that Boromir had caught in a row, he found himself to be a sore loser; he threw all the acorns at once, hitting his big brother-figure in the face.

“Merry!” shouted Aragorn, who was now standing there beside them. He had not seen the playful banter before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was just-”

“Merry has been bullying Boromir a lot,” said Pippin. Merry’s jaw dropped at Pippin's good-natured betrayal.

“Pippin!” Merry cried.

“He has been absolutely awful,” grinned Pippin. Aragorn shook his head in disapproval.

“Stop messing with him and behave,” Aragorn said and smiled at Boromir knowingly. The three tended to tease Merry around a lot and these early hours of a new day were no different. Aragorn straightened his coat and gestured towards Gandalf. “He has made up his mind. We must proceed.”

Merry, Pippin and Boromir got up from the ground simultaneously and left the small piles of acorns behind. As they continued their journey, Boromir smirked and gave Merry a friendly smack on his back. 

“You’re all awful,” he muttered.

—

The morning light started to come up and you were panting heavily. The rock you were resting against was cold and your ankle was burning with pain. You had not heard any movement around you for fifteen minutes and you were wishing Rath was now far behind. 

You peeked from behind the mossy boulder and scanned your surroundings. There was no sign of any other living thing. You got into a more comfortable position, closed your eyes and burst into tears.

The betrayal felt like someone stabbed your heart and nothing had hurt you so badly in a long time. It was not quite as bad as when Merry left you, but it still felt like your world was once again collapsing around you. Your cheeks were burning up and you could taste the salty tears on your dried up lips. You wanted to scream the pain out. A small wail escaped your throat and you put your hand over your lips to suffocate your cries. You did not want to be heard.

“I know you’re here!” shouted Rath from somewhere close by and you immediately got up, limping away from your hiding spot. You were not sure if he heard you and had located you, but you did not feel safe staying still. The grass and gravel under you made soft noises as you went forward, and every now and then your ankle gave out, making you fall with a loud thump.

You scratched your cheek on the gravel as you fell on your stomach. It stung but you knew there was no time to stay and try to make it better. You got up so quickly you almost twisted your ankle again, so you fell on your knees. With a small cry of pain you got up again.

To your right was a cliff. There were many boulders around it and it looked like it would also have several places to take cover and hide, so you started to quietly limp towards it. When you reached the tall cliff, you turned around to see if Rath was anywhere in sight. All the trees were still and the sky was grey. Nothing was moving in the grass.

You turned your back to the forest and started climbing the cliff as fast as you could. Your ankle felt like it was about to crack off your body as you put your weight on it. Every step with it erupted a sharp grunt out of your mouth. Towards the top your hands started to slip as there was some water resting on top of the rocks. You could hear some movement of water in the pressuring silence. As you reached up, you finally felt the steady top of the cliff. In a grunt of pain you lifted yourself up and crashed down on the top, your cheek hitting the cold stone.

You barely had gotten up when your wrists were grabbed tightly and Rath turned you around to face him. With a loud scream of fear you started to fight him off.

“No!” you cried, trying to stay on your feet as the pain grew worse. Rath’s grip was strong and he was bruising your skin with every movement he made.

“I need to do this for my family!” Rath cried, his voice one of pain and guilt. His eyes were still filled with rage and despite being terrified of him, you could see he truly had grown fond of you and felt hurt himself.

“Let me go!” you said, tears falling down your scratched up and burning cheeks. “Please! Don’t do this!”

“My family needs this!” he shouted and pulled you in closer. His breath was hot on your face as he held onto you tightly He was trying to hold your wrists with one hand and the other one was trying to unhook the golden brooch off your cloak.

You felt yourself almost lose your balance and you took a quick glance over your shoulder. You were on the edge of the cliff and behind you, way down was dark water. It seemed endlessly deep. With one swift movement you tried to switch sides with Rath so you could push him down and run away before he got up from the water, but it was no use. He did not move an inch and his grip on you was still strong. The pain of his betrayal and physical assault made more tears fall from your eyes as you stumbled a bit closer to the edge.

“Stop!”

“My sister needs this. Just fucking--”

A loud wail of wind passed your ear and a fleshy sound followed it. An arrow sunk into the left side of Rath’s chest and your wrists were released. He fell on his back, gasping for air and your heart sank from the sight of your friend’s spirit passing away.

The brooch was steady on your chest but your feet slipped on the cold, grey, wet stone and you were no longer touching the ground. There was only air around you as you fell backwards and somewhere away from the cliff were loud noises you could not decipher. 

As you plunged into the cold water, you felt paralyzed and the darkness around you began consuming you. You could not move. You sunk down deeper and you could see movement on top of the cliff over the surface, but it was blurry and far. You felt your lungs get heavier and your head felt light. The last remaining air was escaping your lungs and the pressure in your body was growing unbearable. You thought of Merry and how you’d never be able to see him again. You thought of your parents and the way they died; how it was about to happen to you.

There was a loud splash you could barely hear through the ringing of your ears and as a large hand grabbed your cloak, your vision darkened and you saw no more.

NEXT CHAPTER

---

@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked @channiesbedbug

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So was anyone gonna tell me that Meriadoc Brandybuck was in Star Wars?

[the-song-of-luthien]

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