The moment Merry knew he loved Pippin...

...the sun was high in the sky, shining hotly, turning the brilliant colors of the Shire to pale greens and burnt yellows. While most hobbits were waiting out the heat deep in their hobbit holes, sheltered by the earth, Merry and Pippin sought refuge in the orchard under the old apple tree. They had been laying there, limbs languid, wondering at how even the shade was hot on a day like this. After a long while of listening to the sound of crickets whirring in the tall grass and the soft whisper of leaves as a squirrel ran across the limbs of the tree above them, Pippin wiggled and, after letting out several huge sighs, realized that Merry was refusing to get the hint, pulled himself up and in all his six-year-old majesty, demanded that Merry stop laying there like a sack of potatoes and play with him. Merry obliged, because that was his job. Pippin might request sweetly, his tiny arms around Merry's neck, or stomp his feet with his lips twisted in a pout. It would be a hug or a story, maybe a walk along the Brandywine, or the last bite of Merry's blueberry crumble. Merry would make a face, shake his head "no" but always in the end, oblige. There was already talk that if being the only boy in the Took household didn't result in enough spoiling, the way Merry doted on his cousin was going to be the end of the lad.

"Fly me."

Today it was a sweet demand, complete with sticky fingers and a lopsided grin. Merry smiled and rolled onto his back, holding his feet together and lifting them about a foot off the ground. Pippin leaned his belly onto Merry's soles, reaching out his hands to grasp at Merry's fingers. Slowly Merry pulled his legs up until Pippin was "flying" above him.

"I'm a bird!"

Merry smiled and dipped his legs again to make Pippin swoop. Pippin's arms were spread out like wings, each hand grasping gently at Merry's hands which were extended up to steady him.

"Where are we going, Pip?"

"Hobbiton! We're going to see strange old Bilbo and he'll have black current jam and scones and lemongrass tea with honey and..."

That was the moment. As Pippin soared above him, his green eyes sparkling and his mouth spread wide in a grin, listing off an imaginary tea that would have made the grandest hobbit blush; that moment with the sun filtering through the leaves of the old apple tree leaving a dappled carpet of light across the orchard floor, the hot dusty smell of the Shire on a summer day filling Merry's nostrils; the moment he held onto tiny hands and looked up at a face squealing with pure delight. It was that moment that Meriadoc Brandybuck knew he loved this child and there was nothing he wouldn't do for him.

"Get ready for the landing." Merry's legs were starting to tire so he gently guided Pippin down toward the ground until he landed and proceeded to throw himself on Merry's chest and snuggle into the crook of his neck.

"Did you eat the rest of the apple pie?"

A chuckle vibrated in Merry's chest when he heard Pippin ask about food once again. Just today there had been several conversations speculating what might be served for dinner and if there possibly could be cake with afternoon tea, and whether or not the cook had meant to pack just a bit more cheese because there was smidge too much bread in their picnic basket.

"You ate it, pipsqueak." Merry pinched Pippin lightly, just enough to make him wiggle with a tiny laugh.

"Hmmmm." Pippin's face pulled down into a pout and he pondered if there might be anything in the basket he hadn't eaten. "That's too bad."

Merry's chuckle had become a laugh and he pulled Pippin's small body to his chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Pippin played at struggling for a moment then relaxed into Merry's embrace with a deep sigh.

"I love you Merry." Pippin mumbled as the sleep that had threatened him earlier finally caught up, pulling his lids heavily down over his eyes.

"I love you too Pip." Merry said softly, his hand stroking Pippin's curls. His heart felt full and Merry knew there was nothing in the world truer than how much he loved this lad.

---

The moment when Merry knew he loved Pippin to a fault...

..."I swear there were two slices of kidney pie left."

They were in the kitchen at Brandy Hall and Merry's mother was putting together a basket for sick Mrs. Bracegirdle who had five children and another on the way. Merry glanced over at Pippin knowing full well that the kidney pie had met its fate late the night before when the two of them had decided to raid the kitchen for a snack. Then Merry saw Pippin's mouth open and he was sure he was about to reveal their exploits.

"You must remember wrong, mum." Merry said quickly as he pinched Pippin hard. Pippin yelped a little and glared at Merry. "I'm positive it was all eaten during supper last night."

Esmeralda let out a little harrumph and her brow creased in what Merry had come to know was her perplexed look.

"Peggoty will have to make due with some of those jars of cucumbers from last season then."

A kind hand went out to pinch Merry on the cheek and ruffle Pippin's hair, and Esmeralda turned and left the kitchen. At that moment Pippin's hand came out and pinched Merry back.

It was early fall in the Shire and the air had just began to chill, filled with the smell of wood smoke. At Brandy Hall preparations for winter were in full swing: late blackberries were being canned, sacks of filberts and walnuts were thrown in the cellar, wheels of cheese were covered with thick yellow wax and stored in a cool corner, meats were being salted, onions pickled and Esmeralda was patiently instructing the kitchen staff on how to properly can tomatoes so they could have a taste of summer when the darkest days of arrived.

Knowing they would be soon pulled into the preparations, probably snared to clean the cobwebs from the corners of the cellar, Merry and Pippin wrapped thick woolen scarves around their necks and pulled on the jackets that had been taken from the closets only a week before when the weather had turned from Unseasonably Warm to Seasonably Chilly, and headed out for a day of wandering in the Great Forest. Pippin grinned evilly as he informed Merry that he had never intended to betray his trespasses in the first place but now he sported a bruise and blackmail material, he intended to make Merry climb to the highest branch of a golden chestnut he claimed to know the location of. Merry had put on his most practiced indignant look, then acquiesced because even though Pippin had gone from troublesome child to troublesome teen, the fact that Merry loved him hadn't changed and he still obliged Pippin's every wish because of this.

After tramping through the woods for at least an hour and after Pippin got them lost no more than two times, they found the golden chestnut, her leaves brilliant yellow amongst the oaks that were wearing their fall reds and oranges. Pippin propped himself against a moss-covered root and Merry, with a bag hooked onto his belt, scrambled up the tree's wizened trunk.

"Merry?" Pippin smiled up at Merry and Merry felt his breath catch as their gazes met, Pippin's eyes dark green in the shade of the tree. He swallowed, devoid of speech for a moment, and then found his voice.

"Yes?" he croaked.

"Do you remember how you used to fly me? We were under the apple tree and we'd had the most delicious lunch, and I remember I wanted more apple pie...."

Pippin's voice trailed off and his brow furrowed in the way it always did when Pippin was thinking. Merry smiled at how much Pippin remembered from that day so long ago. He stared down at him, amazed at the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, and the way his nose turned up al little, and the warmth in his gaze that was starting to make Merry's insides feel liquid. Pippin sighed heavily, and sign that the conversation was over and Merry reached for another apple, putting it in the sack he had tied to his belt.

"Why don't you come down?" Pippin said after a bit, his voice heavy with the promise of a mid-afternoon nap. "I think we've enough chestnuts for a while."

Merry nodded in agreement and proceeded to shimmy down the rough trunk of the tree. He jumped onto the soft ground, and collapsed next to Pippin. Pippin flashed him a brilliant smile then wiggled his way into Merry's arms, tucking his head under his chin. His hair smelled of Eglantine Took's peppermint soap and the mushrooms they'd gathered on their way to the chestnut tree. They were nearly the same height now, Merry only a couple inches taller than Pippin, but Pippin still took any opportunity to wind his way into Merry's lap like he was still that six-year-old. They stayed like that for a long time, not saying a word, and Merry wondered at the way Pippin dissolved the world around them until it was just the two of them.

"Lily Proudfoot has threatened me with some very strange occurrences after next week's Harvest dance." Pippin muttered suddenly, pressing his face into Merry's jacket and taking a deep breath. Merry felt his chest clench. This was the first time Pippin was talking about girls instead of how many toads they could find in the creek after a rain or that the new Bracegirdle baby smelled a bit like old cheese.

"Lily isn't much older than you, is she?" Merry asked, not knowing exactly how to respond to Pippin's announcement.

"She's twenty, I'm twenty-two." Pippin offered, sighing heavily. "It was just last year Lily was helping me shave the fur off her da's cat. Now she's telling me I could have a look down her blouse if I give her a dance."

The bands around Merry's chest tightened with each of Pippin's words and it was becoming difficult to breathe. He pictured Pippin and Lily dancing, his auburn head tucked next to her mahogany locks, and whatever words he was going to offer back to Pippin stuck in his throat. All of the sudden he felt cold, despite Pippin being pressed against him and Pippin's voice seemed very far away.

"And she said I could have a kiss if I gave her some of my strawberries."

"Su...such a small price for a kiss." Merry stuttered, turning his face away from Pippin to stare through the trees at some distant spot. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pictured Pippin leaning toward Lily, his soft mouth capturing hers, and suddenly it wasn't her mouth, but his, that he imagined Pippin kissing. Pippin's mouth was wet tasting of wine and apples. Merry imagined his hand sliding into Pippin's wild curls, tugging at them their tongues slid against each other and his other hand slipping under Pippin's shirt to skim over warm skin....

"Merry. I...I...."

Pippin's voice sliced through the vision and Merry sat up quickly, dumping the young Took onto the ground. Pippin's mouth fell open in shock, sweet and pink, filled with things that were suddenly left unsaid, and Merry was acutely aware that all he had to do was lean in a little closer...just a bit.... Pippin's green eyes look up, searching Merry's face and Merry couldn't stand to meet his gaze. He looked away, wiping his hands on his trousers, suddenly fascinated by a patch of grass a few yards away from his feet.

"Merry?"

"We...we should get going. Mum will be worried if we're out past sunset and it's starting to get late."

"But Merry...I want...I want to talk to...."

"I've been meaning to tell you that Da is pressuring me to take on more responsibility at the Hall. I probably won't be able to make it to Tucksborough as often." Merry's voice was tight and he felt like the words weren't his. He turned to look at Pippin who was still lying on the ground, the expression on his face a heart-wrenching mixture of surprise and pain. "It's not like we could run wild forever, eh Pip?"

Pippin's eyes were glassy with tears. Merry paused for a second, afraid of what he saw there, and terrified of what he'd seen in himself. He might have allowed himself to reach out and smooth the stray curl that had fallen onto Pippin's forehead and smooth away the pain that darkened his eyes. But he couldn't. This wasn't some lad in the barn, hay stuck in his locks and no expectations except a wet sloppy kiss stolen on a sunny afternoon. It was Pippin, his Pippin, and Merry knew they both wanted too much.

"Let's get back to Brandy Hall." Pippin nodded silently, not saying another word. Merry's heart was heavy as they pushed through the damp underbrush of the forest and he no longer noticed the splendid ferns that were growing wild on the trunks of the trees or how the fall crocuses peeked through the piles of leaves on the ground. All he knew was his entire body felt heavy with sadness and it was all he could do not weep. He would never forget that day and he would never, as hard as he tried, find that golden chestnut tree again, glowing like a flame in the shadows of the forest.

---

There was no moment for Pippin because he'd always loved Merry, to distraction and to a fault, but if he had to name one it would be...

...the moment Lily had promised him that kiss, Pippin shook his head "no" and knew exactly who he wanted kissing him – who he'd always wanted kissing him.

He even knew how it would happen, on a warm summer night, tired from a day of soaking up the sunshine, Pippin curled in Merry's lap, staring up at the sparkling garland of stars splashed across the velvet night sky. He would tell Merry then, that his eyes were brighter than any star, the most beautiful blue-grey he'd ever seen, like he imagined the sea would look and how those eyes followed him in his dreams. He would seduce him, caressing his face, memorizing every line with his fingertips, whispering that he was in love with him, that he adored him, and all the other secrets he'd been keeping. Then he would reach up and tangle his fingers in Merry's golden hair, feeling the silky strands in his fingers, pulling his lips down to his until they met. And it would be lovely.

So when he looked up at Merry's face from where he'd been unceremoniously dumped from his lap and saw the pain and fear in his eyes, Pippin's heart felt like it was shattering into a million shards of lovely. What had been so simple just a few moments ago had become thick like the mud after a spring rain that trapped the oxen in the field.

Merry would not escape so easily, Pippin decided, and in a matter of days he'd convinced him that there were several jugs of plum wine in the cellar that had gone thoroughly unnoticed and they were back together, lounging under a tree, Merry's mouth plum-sweet, and so terribly kissable it was all Pippin could do not to leap upon him and taste him. But he didn't because the fear was still there, lurking under the surface of Merry's laughter, in his halting gestures and the way he pushed Pippin away sooner than he used to.

So Pippin swallowed his kisses, held back caresses and followed the unspoken rules in Merry's touch and smile, if for nothing else other than that Pippin loved him both to distraction and to a fault.

---

Then there was the moment that Merry gave in...

...he tried to stay away, involving himself in the day-to-day at Brandy Hall, planning the next season's harvest, checking the stores and collecting the rents to give his father a rest. Fall became late fall or early winter and Pippin would show up on the step of Brandy Hall, grinning from ear to ear, telling him stories of a secret swimming hole they would need to try that summer (for Pippin had suddenly decided it was okay to swim), or that no one would be watching the Proudfoot pigs at noon so it would be the perfect opportunity to send them back to the wild they surely missed. Then, if the weather was good, they would end up lying on a blanket, staring up at the clouds and making up stories about the strange shapes they saw until it was cold enough to make them both shiver. If the weather was blustering, full of fury, they would end up in the library, reading great tales by the candlelight until their eyelids drooped and heads nodded.

The crimson and gold of fall had come and left the Shire, as well as the harvesting parties and cider pressings. They ate and drank, danced with eager lasses and Merry could swear that Pippin's eyes never left his as they whirled around the dance floor. They took long walks in the forest, strewn with a carpet of red oak leaves, and Pippin told him of a wheel of cheese tucked away in a corner of the cellar for later that winter, promising to share it with him on a late winter night when supplies became scarce and dinner was salted pork again.

Then winter blew in, blanketing the shire in sparkling white and there was ice-skating and more parties to attend, fireplaces with roaring fires to warm their feet by in the early twilight, and Yule gifts to give and receive. Merry gave Pippin a scarf which he immediately wrapped 'round his neck, then flung his arms around Merry's waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek and Merry felt the color rise to his cheeks with the feel of Pippin's lips on his skin and that pepperminty smell of his hair.

Spring brought a hidden cache of crocuses springing from the leaf mold that Pippin had dragged Merry to see, their purple flowers luminescent in the dim forest light, yellow stamens a splash of color against their cool white throats. Pippin turned to Merry, his eyes the same color as the trees in the dim light, his curls dark copper, one straggling across his forehead. Merry reached out, against all his good sense, to smooth that curl back, his finger sliding down Pippin's cheek and lingering just a little, but enough that he saw a spark in his cousin's eye, a distant glimmer of heat that he probably would spend hours convincing himself wasn't there, shouldn't be there.

"Merry," Pippin sighed, his lips parting slightly. "Please..."

With that word there was a great thunderclap and the sky, which had vacillated between clouds and sunshine all morning, opened up and poured rain, falling through the canopy of leaves, soaking the hobbits in a matter of minutes. Merry grabbed Pippin's hand and they ran, splashing through puddles, feet stepping into saturated moss and underbrush, laughing with the feel of rain on their faces until they reached the Great Smial, cheeks flushed and breathing hard. Pippin stopped by the kitchen, leaving a trail of water down the hallway and ticked off a list of his favorite foods to cook for a tray that would be delivered to his room later. Then with a laugh he ran toward his room, his hand holding Merry's tightly as he dragging Merry along behind.

"Don't go, Merry. Stay and read me a story." Pippin asked sweetly, sitting cross-legged on the coverlet that was draped over his bed. "Pretend I'm small again and tell me grand tales!"

Pippin had changed into his nightshirt which was partially buttoned up revealing the smooth skin of his chest. His hair was in wet ringlets, framing his face which wore a look of happiness mixed with hope. The light of the candles cast a warm glow on his skin and Merry's chest clenched tightly at Pippin's beauty and the feeling of love surged through him, stronger than the river overflowing from the spring rains. Whatever Pippin asked of him at that moment would be granted.

"I'll send for some clothes." Merry struggled to keep his tone matter-of-fact as he indicated would stay. Pippin clapped his hands together and jumped off the bed. In a matter of minutes he'd dragged all his favorite books, pages bent, warped from spilling tea during late night storytelling sessions, covers threadbare, stained with fingerprints, onto the bed and was flipping through them,.

The rain wasn't letting up, drops splatting thickly against the window, running down in rivulets down the pane. Merry's clothes had been brought and he'd made Pippin turn 'round as he pulled on the breeches and shirt, leaving his sodden weskit on the hearthrug next to Pippin's. He'd then bounced onto the bed, propping himself up against goose down pillows and the cherry-wood headboard. Pippin had sprawled across his lap, leaning his head back against Merry's chest and Merry had allowed himself to gently stroke his hair as he read a tale of magic seeds planted by some unsuspecting hobbit farmer, then an essay on the washing habits of elves, three different legends of kings, and an ode to the herblore of Bree. The sun had slipped behind the hills and they'd devoured the tray of food Pippin had ordered earlier, and Pippin had grown heavier and heavier against him, as Merry's voice began to crack with dryness.

"Sleepy." Pippin had finally murmured in the middle of a sonnet detailing the benefits of Feverfew. Merry put down the book and slid out from underneath his cousin and off the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a soft thump. He turned and began to tuck the sleepy Took under the covers.

"Stay." Pippin mumbled, turning to face Merry. "Stay with me Merry."

He knew he shouldn't. But he'd spent too long watching his every move, his every touch, and longing to hold Pippin the way he used to and Merry was weary: the kind of weariness that ached to the center of his bones and made it impossible to get up some mornings to face another day. So he let Pippin grasp his hand and pull him under the covers, murmuring for him to stay all the while. And he let Pippin curl up against him, his knees tucked tightly against Merry's stomach. Then he let Pippin bury his face in Merry's chest, his breath hot through the cloth of Merry's shirt. Merry held tightly to Pippin as the lad slipped into a deep slumber, promising himself that tomorrow would be another day, but for now he savored the feel of Pippin sleeping in his arms. Merry tried to stay awake as long as he possibly could, committing this feeling to memory, something to keep him warm during the long winter nights in his empty bed. But sleep defeated him and his eyelids slowly shut. The last thing he remembered as he slipped into the blackness was the peppermint scent of Pippin's hair.

---

The moment Pippin known he was willing to risk everything for love, even if it meant losing Merry...

...the room was dark and starting to chill which meant the ashes on the hearth had grown cold. It would be several hours before the servants would start their rounds, re-stoking the fires so their rooms would be warm by the time the sun peeked over the hills. Pippin shivered and little and snuggled further into Merry's chest, one hand slipping around his back so he could pull himself closer. He inhaled Merry's scent, a mixture of sleep and pipeweed smoke, and let out his breath in one happy sigh. He looked up, his eyes flickering over the contours of Merry's sleeping face, dimly visible in the grey moonlight. He'd always loved how Merry looked asleep, all his worries melted away, his face peaceful. He stopped at Merry's mouth; slightly parted, and took his time to observe his plump lower lip which Pippin suspected was as tasty as it appeared.

And then he decided he would taste it.

He'd played by Merry's rules for what seemed like years, yearning to touch but never reaching out because of the fear in Merry's eyes. But now those eyes were closed and there was nothing to stop him.

Pippin wriggled a little, scooting carefully up the bed until his face was even with Merry's. Merry was still deeply asleep, so Pippin risked a small touch of his lips to the corner of Merry's left eyelid. Merry twitched a little at Pippin's touch then settled back down. Pippin let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding then risked another kiss on the corner of Merry's right eyelid. His skin was soft under Pippin's lips. Next Pippin kissed Merry's slightly upturned nose. He loved his nose and had always suspected it was the perfect size to take between his teeth and playfully nip. It felt different than the eyelid. Next it was the corner of his mouth and Merry sighed a little in his sleep. Pippin pretended that he'd caused that sigh and that thought made him flush with happiness. Then the other corner of Merry's mouth was subjected to a kiss and Pippin elicited another small sigh and a wiggle. Finally, Pippin closed his eyes and placed a kiss directly on Merry's mouth.

That was when Merry's eyelashes brushed Pippin's cheek and Pippin opened his eyes to see the blue grey of the sea, pupils wide and dark, staring back at him with a look of surprise and a hint of something else....

And Pippin pressed his mouth harder to Merry's , not caring about boundaries or Merry's rules or that he wasn't supposed to be kissing another lad, but only that Merry was kissing him back and his lips felt lovely against his, and Pippin rose once more and nibbled on Merry's lower lip, tugging slightly.

And Merry groaned, gathering Pippin even tighter to his chest, tilting his head just enough to deepen the kiss as he opened his mouth a little. His hands slipped around Pippin's back, pushing up his nightshirt until his fingers drifted along bare skin making Pippin shiver deeply.

So Pippin risked again, pushing his tongue into Merry's mouth, slipping it along Merry's tongue until they tangled in the most delicious way that sent tingles down Pippin's spine all the way to his toes which curled in delight. He heard himself moan against Merry's mouth, deep and hungry.

Then he was being pushed away.

"Pip!" Merry's voice was hoarse and strained, out of breath, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring slightly. Pippin saw naked desire, want so strong that it took his breath away for a moment. He felt bold, that he'd made Merry's heart race, make his eyes dilate, made him hunger for more.

"I love you. Merry." Pippin whispered softly. It was the only thing he could think of at the moment and the only words that needed to be said. All other words would just be useless sounds, meaningless utterances.

That was the moment that Pippin knew he was risking everything for Merry, even losing Merry himself, because he could no longer deny the love that colored everything in his life.

A look of disbelief and shame crossed Merry's face and his mouth opened to push Pippin away, to tell him that he didn't know what he was saying. Pippin pushed back at him with his love, something so strong that there could be no question about what had just been said. He looked at Merry with all the love in his heart, putting it on his face to be read and treasured, like a favorite book that had been lost and rediscovered on a blustery Tuesday evening. It was there in all its glory, like the golden daffodils who greeted the spring every year with their nodding heads and frilly bonnets. He tried to fill Merry with all his love until he spilled over, because he knew that Merry needed to know Pippin was his one and only, and would always be. No matter how many rules he made, no matter how many times he pushed Pippin away, Pippin would always be there, loving him.

Merry's mouth closed, biting off the words that were about to come out and his face softened. He reached out a shaking hand and traced the contours of Pippin's face with his fingers; across his cheekbone, under his brow, the gentle bow of his lips, the sharpness of his nose, the smooth plane of his forehead. Merry's touched skimmed over his skin for what felt like an eternity and Pippin didn't dare to breathe the entire time in case this was a vision and breathing might cause it to evaporate.

"Ah." Merry sighed, the tiny sound escaping from parted lips. "I love you too."

Pippin's eyes fell shut, lashes fluttering on his cheeks and all the tension he'd been holding in let out in one breath. He felt Merry's hands on either side of his head as he pulled him forward until their lips met again, parting slightly, and Pippin didn't dare open his eyes in case it was another dream. But it wasn't.

---

The moment Merry had known he'd spend the rest of his life loving Pippin and nothing would change that...

...it was the moment their lips met, bundled in bed on that chilly spring night with an armful of sleepy Took, soft kisses and sweet sighs. It was the moment he stared into Pippin's eyes glowing fiercely with love and made his choice. It was the moment he lifted six-year-old Pippin above his head and looked up at his adoring face. Merry was born to love Pippin and he would love him in as many ways possible until they were both cold in the grave, and he knew that to be Truth.

- l'estremita -