Title: A GUILTY CONSCIENCE
Author: A. Z. 'Telcontar' Shoshani
Characters: Pippin/Merry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Pippin makes a confession to Merry in Lorien
Disclaimer: Middle Earth, its inhabitants, & sub-creation et al: JRR
Tolkien's. Story: Product of my most unnatural curiosity.
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A GUILTY CONSCIENCE

"...'What did you blush for, Sam?' said Pippin. "Anyone would have thought
you a guilty conscience.' ...Answered Sam,'..I felt as if I hadn't anything
on...She seemed to be looking inside me and asking me what I would do if she
gave me the chance of flying back home to the Shire to a nice little hole
with-with a bit of garden of my own...' 'That's funny,' said Merry. 'Almost
exactly what I felt myself; only, only well, I don't think I'll say any
more,' he ended lamely. "

:The Mirror of Galadriel, The Fellowship of the Ring, LOTR.


{LOTHLORIEN, 1419 SR}

"Pippin?" Meriadoc Brandybuck propped himself up on his elbows, looking over
at the shape of Peregrin Took curled in a tight ball near him. "Pippin, are
you awake?"

There was a slight nod of Pippin's head, and the young Hobbit shifted under
the blankets, turning to face his cousin. "Yes, I'm awake. I can't sleep."

"Neither can I." Merry sighed, sitting up. Above him the gentle sweep of the
pavilion tent shifted lightly in the breeze, and the sound of cascading
water from the fountain outside mingled with the clear voices of the Elves
of Lorien singing. There had been too many nights before this one without so
comfortable a place to sleep, but Merry was still wide awake, turning many
thoughts over in his mind.

Pippin shifted again, pulling the covers closer as if he was chilled. His
dusty brown curls were in even more disarray than usual, and his normally
bright eyes and cheerful, laughing mouth were veiled and quiet. Merry
glanced over at him and was startled to see the faint silver trace of tears
smudging Pippin's face. "Pippin, are you crying?" he asked.

His small pointed chin quivering, Pippin nodded. Fresh tears coursed along
the paths left by the ones already fallen. "I c-can't help it," he
stammered. "I just can't stop thinking of..." Abruptly, Pippin stopped.

"Of what?" Merry whispered.

"Of Gandalf," Pippin said, turning away. It was the first time he had said
the wizard's name since his fall in Moria. Pippin's voice shook as he went
on. "Gandalf didn't want me to go at first, and neither did Lord Elrond.
Maybe-maybe they were right, Merry."

Merry moved closer to Pippin and looked hard at him with his intense
Brandybuck stare. "They didn't want me to go, either, if you recall," he
said.

Pippin rubbed away the tears roughly. "Oh, I know, but it was me who dropped
the stone down the well, and woke up the B-balrog...I didn't know, Merry, I
never thought...that-there could be such hideous things, or th-that we'd
lose Gandalf. It's all my fault! How could I have been so stupid!" Pippin
stifled a cry, and his eyes blurred again.

Merry leaned over and embraced him. "None of us could have foreseen what
happened in Moria, Pip. And it isn't all your fault. You mustn't think that
way."

"I can't help it!" Pippin buried his face into Merry's shoulder, sobbing
quietly. "I keep seeing him there in the dark, right before, smoking his
pipe. He told me to sleep, and now-now I just can't, Merry! It went so fast,
and Aragorn was pushing us forward, and Frodo was screaming, and all I could
think of was surely Gandalf would be there, behind us...but he wasn't."

Merry held Pippin close to him, his hand cupping the Took's ear and hair. "I
know, Pip, I know."

"I'm always making trouble, Merry. At Bree I simply forgot we were in
disguise, and then in Moria I felt the urge to pitch the stone down that
well. I just didn't think! I'm not smart, like Frodo, or strong like Sam, or
brave like you, Merry. All I've done is be a nuisance."

"Oh, I wasn't brave or smart or strong in Bree, Pip. Not after my little
evening stroll. Oh, Pippin, what else were we to do? We couldn't just let
Frodo and Sam go off all alone, now, could we? They are our friends!"

"Gandalf was our friend, too."

"Oh, Pippin!" Merry said, and he began to cry. For a while they sat there in
grief, releasing quietly into the night the fear and pain they had endured
for so many days. The Elves sang on under the starlight sparkling through
the trees. After a time they simply leaned against each other's shoulders,
their tears spent.

In time their breathing slowed, their hurt dissolving into the calm of their
sleeping companions and the rustle of the leaves far overhead. They let go
of each other, each leaning back on the soft pallets beneath them. Merry
tucked his hands behind his head, while Pippin drew down the blankets and
turned on his side.  Pippin's voice was rough when he spoke again. "Merry?"

"Hm?" Merry said.

"You know what Sam said a few days ago, about when the Lady was looking at
us like she could see what we were thinking?"

Merry smiled in the dark. He remembered. Pippin had teased that Sam was
having thoughts of stealing his blankets. Sam, blushing and being in no mood
for the jest, remarked on the feeling that they had all had-that the Lady
Galadriel somehow had put the choice of returning home or continuing on the
Quest into their minds. None of them had told everything they had thought,
not even Frodo, and Pippin hadn't said anything at all. "Yes, I remember,
Pip."

"Do you believe that part he said about wanting a garden of his own?"

"He's a gardener, Pip, and so's the Gaffer. 'Course he'd want a garden."

"I know that. Just it sounded like he was going to say something else."

Merry glanced over at Pippin. "Like what?" he said. It had sounded like that
to him, too.

"Well, it sounded more like he wanted to go back to someone, not something."
Merry blinked, looking up at the gently swaying roof. Pippin may be young
and occasionally he may act foolish, but he was sharp and had moments of
incredible insight, all typical of his Tookish ancestry. "I got that
impression, too," he said quietly.

"But Sam won't admit it." Pippin reflected for a moment, then said, even
quieter. "I felt the same thing. I didn't want to say it, you know, but I
wanted to go home, back to the Shire, and stay in a nice little hole..."

"With someone?"

"Yes," Pippin replied, his voice a lilting whisper of song. "With you,
Merry."

Quiet pooled around them. Merry shifted onto his side and stared at the
younger Hobbit. Pippin stared back, his lower lip pressed into a thin line,
unsure of the effect of what he had confessed. Without a word, Merry leaned
forward, and with one hand drew Pippin close and kissed him on his trembling
mouth. Pippin gave a small squeak of surprise, then a soft sigh. Merry drew
back for a moment. "All I wanted....was the same," he said, and his low
voice was thick with the wanting. "It was as clear a picture I ever saw in
dreams. You and I, together in the Shire..." Merry clenched his jaw, feeling
a sudden blush spread over him. "I want nothing more than that."

"Merry..." Pippin breathed, and he had to say nothing more, for all the
longing and desire was clear in his voice, and they kissed again, this time
with the force and passion they had kept inside and silent.

Merry's hands snaked down over Pippin's slight form, pressing against him.
Their feet brushed up against each other, and Merry wrapped his ankles
around Pippin's, drawing his hips closer. Pippin gasped at the contact, and
moved the blankets to cover them both. His quick and delicate fingers
unfastened Merry's shirt front with deft, bird-like motions, as Merry slid
his hands up under Pippin's shirt. Merry nuzzled Pippin's neck, breathing
warm puffs of breath on the skin, kissing the hollow of his throat. Pippin
groaned. Merry moved aside the curls and whispered, "Quietly, now. We
mustn't wake the others."

Pippin nodded, swallowing. "Merry, I need your help with my laces."

With one hand still holding Pippin's front, Merry undid the laces on the
trousers and peeled them down. Without pause his hand went lower, and he
caught Pippin's exclamation in a hard kiss. Pippin squirmed beneath him,
pulsing in his hand. Merry pushed his tongue against Pippin's mouth, parting
his lips and darting into the moist side of his cheek. Moving his other hand
from Pip's chest, he slid his own trousers down, releasing himself from the
tight confines. Tenderly he guided Pippin's hands down, and stifled his own
groan of pleasure as Pippin embraced him. The ache of it was maddening, and
they simply held each other for a long moment, feeling the pulse of their
blood rushing through their arousal. With his free hand Merry plucked a
handkerchief from his shirt pocket, shoving it down next to them.

"Merry-" Pippin gasped again.

"Shh," Merry hissed, and crushed his hips against Pippin. "Quiet." He
carefully cupped Pippin with one hand and stroked with the other. Pippin
squeezed instinctively, making Merry bite hard on his own lips not to cry
out. Pippin moved his hands in a frantic rhythm, Merry following him. Their
legs went taut, muscles tight as they pressed together, slick with sweat.
Stifling back their cries, they burst, warmth like liquid flame melting them
together. It felt like popping embers as Merry wiped them clean with the
cloth.

Pippin lay next to Merry, gulping the cool air. "Oh, Merry," he murmured. "I
do so love you!"

"And I love you, Pip." Merry's eyes shone bright as gems in the dark. "Did
you like that?"

"Very much!"

"Good. So did I."

"Merry?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think we'll ever see the Shire again?"

Merry let out his breath slowly. "I don't know, Pippin. Not without a lot of
things happening before, most likely. But I like to think we will."

"Together?" Pippin asked, his voice sounding so young and hopeful.

Merry smiled. "Yes, Pippin," he said. "Together."