Title: Journey Through the Fire 

Author: Christina  

Author's Email: csteresa@yahoo.com 

Pairings: Merry/Pippin, Pippin/Denethor 

Rating: NC-17 (graphic sex and violence, including rape and torture) 

Summary: Post-ROTK, Merry and Pippin travel to Gondor to visit old 
friends, but the happy occasion turns tragic when Pippin is forced to 
confront old demons. This story was inspired by The Library of Moria plot 
bunny submitted by Alex. 

A/N: Although this isn't exactly a sequel to my story, "The Hobbit of My 
Affections," the nature of Merry and Pippin's relationship is the same: 
They have been deeply committed lovers since 1420 S.R. Pippin's 
passionate love for Merry blossomed long before that.

~*~

PART ONE

July, 1424 S. R.

Pippin rode along the Rohan countryside behind Merry and Prince 
Faramir, attempting to take an interest in the scenery, but his own dark 
thoughts intruded as they traveled nearer and nearer to Gondor and Minas 
Tirith.

In the comfort and safety of Crickhollow, the invitation Aragorn had sent 
the two Hobbits to visit Gondor to see their old friends had seemed like 
such a good idea at the time. Merry and Pippin had been living an idyllic 
life at the little cottage, sharing their depthless love and throwing the best 
parties in the Shire. Pippin had hardly thought about his ordeal in the 
Citadel of Gondor's capital five years hence. But now the nightmare was 
reinvading his mind and the memories were as fresh as if it had happened 
yesterday.

"Pippin, if you keep thinking so hard your face will crack," Merry teased.

Pippin started, then managed a forced smile. "I was just thinking about our 
adventure with the Orcs," he lied.

Merry sidled his pony as close as he dared to Pippin's. "Well, I wish you 
would spare a moment to think about me," he whispered.

"You're always in my thoughts, Merry," Pippin whispered back.

Merry grinned wryly. "Then why has it been a week since we--?"

"Hush!"

"I'm aching for you, Pippin, quite literally. I'm ready to burst. We have our 
own tent and everything. Say you will tonight."

Pippin shook his head. "We can't, not while we're still within the borders 
of Rohan."

Merry gazed at his cousin, perplexed. "What does that have to do with the 
price of pipe-weed?"

"It's against the law here," Pippin told him. "If they catch us we'll be 
hanged and worse."

"Who told you that?"

Instead of answering, Pippin urged his pony forward away from his 
kinsman and lover, leaving Merry frustrated and confused. 

That evening, Prince Faramir and his retinue camped a day's march from 
the border of Gondor. While Pippin was spending an inordinate amount of 
time unpacking his gear, Merry approached Faramir. The Steward was 
speaking to one of his lieutenants, but immediately stopped and 
acknowledged the Hobbit, making Merry feel rather self-conscious. 

"What can I do for you, Merry?" Faramir asked graciously.

"I have a question...." Merry looked up at Faramir uneasily, then at the 
lieutenant. 

Faramir nodded in understanding and dismissed the man. "Please go on."

"How familiar are you with the laws of Rohan?"

Faramir grinned. "Familiar enough to keep out of trouble. Why do you 
ask?"

Merry hesitated. "Is it forbidden in Rohan, or Gondor for that matter, for 
two people...two male people...to--" Merry's voice dropped to a faint 
whisper; Faramir had to lean closer to hear him. "To...love each other?"

Faramir's head snapped up in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but 
it was several moments before any sound emerged. "Oh...oh, you and 
Pippin are--?"

Merry shushed him. "Not so loud."

Faramir smiled broadly and laughed. "No, Merry, there's no law against it 
that I'm aware of. Though I would suggest the two of you be discreet; 
unfortunately, there's no law against prejudice either."

Merry nodded, relieved. 

"If the two of you are looking for some privacy," Faramir said quietly, "I'll 
make certain that you aren't disturbed tonight--discreetly, of course."

"Thank you, Prince Faramir!" Merry dashed off, and then remembered his 
manners. He turned and gave the Steward a courtly bow. Faramir inclined 
his head in acknowledgement before Merry ran off to tell Pippin the good 
news.

That night around the fire, between the food, the ale, and his darling Merry 
looking particularly handsome, Pippin's high spirits were restored. There 
was nothing to be afraid of now that he knew that Rohan's cruel law was a 
lie (how could he have ever believed otherwise, considering the source?). 
The past was past and Pippin was determined not to let it ruin his present 
or future. The moon was close to full, but still many stars could be seen in 
the black sky; it would be a pity to waste such a beautiful night.

Merry touched Pippin's hand secretly and risked a quick glance. Pippin 
gave an exaggerated yawn and stretched. "I'm off to bed. Thank you for the 
fine meal, Prince Faramir."

"A splendid compliment coming from a Hobbit," Faramir replied. "Sleep 
well, my friends."

As soon as they were out of the firelight, Merry clutched Pippin's hand and 
rushed towards their tent. When they were safely inside, Merry wrapped 
his arms around him and pulled Pippin to him for a sultry kiss. Pippin tried 
to lose himself in Merry's warm embrace and the feel of his hot mouth on 
his own, but the memories that had been haunting Pippin came flooding 
back in a jumble. Violence mixed with the image of his beloved...

//The guard laughed. 'Look how little he is.' Carius roughly grabbed 
Pippin's limp member. The Hobbit's face flushed with anger and 
embarrassment. 'Wonder if it ever stands at attention.'

The Steward's stony countenance twisted in a grim smile. 'I suspect it does 
when our Ernil thinks of his dear Merry....'//

Pippin tugged at Merry's hair and pulled his head back slightly. "Do you 
want it, Merry?" He murmured against his cousin's lips.

"I want you, Pippin," Merry replied gently.

Without another word, Pippin started pulling off Merry's Rohan livery 
brusquely. Merry was surprised by Pippin's intensity, but seemed to be 
aroused by it as well. That was confirmed by Merry's stiffened member 
when Pippin pulled off his breeches. Forgoing teasing preliminaries, 
Pippin took him in his mouth, devouring him. Merry put his hands lightly 
on the back of Pippin's head, moving his hips to Pippin's ministrations. 
With a muffled groan, Merry came in Pippin's mouth in a matter of 
moments. 

Before Merry could thank him, Pippin stood and kissed Merry hard, 
forcing his tongue deep into Merry's mouth. Pippin then pushed his cousin 
backwards until he fell onto a pile of soft furs. 

Pippin began to undress quickly. Merry started to rise in order to assist 
him, but Pippin put his foot on Merry's chest. "Don't move," he hissed. 

Merry looked up at him with a bewildered expression, but complied. 

Pippin stroked himself to full hardness and fell to his knees before Merry. 
Merry ran his hands across Pippin's chest while Pippin retrieved a jar of 
oil. He rubbed some on himself, then around Merry's opening. Merry was 
breathing irregularly, leaning back on the furs with his legs spread around 
Pippin's waist. Pippin entered Merry slowly then leaned over him when a 
strangely exhilarating thought occurred to Pippin: he had Merry in his 
power.

//'You are beginning to understand the meaning of obedience to true 
power, Ernil...'.//

Suddenly, Merry faded away until all that was left was Pippin thrusting 
hard and fast against yielding flesh with his mounting pleasure as his only 
concern.

"Pippin, you're hurting me!" When Pippin didn't stop, Merry took him by 
the shoulders and pushed him backwards, until Merry was now on top of 
Pippin. "What is the matter with you?!"

Pippin found himself in the present with the abruptness of a splash of icy 
water in his face. "Oh, Merry," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry." He gently 
pushed Merry off him and threw on the first piece of clothing he found, 
Merry's nightshirt. Sobbing more apologies, Pippin ran from the tent into 
the night. Merry found his shirt and breeches and went after him. 

The sentries started at the sound of the two Hobbits running, but Merry 
motioned to them that there was no cause for alarm. He caught up with 
Pippin and embraced him, even though Pippin half-heartedly attempted to 
push him away. 

"It's all right, dearest," Merry said tenderly. "You didn't really hurt me; it 
was just a bit rougher than I'm used to."

Pippin continued to sob. "I should never have touched you, Merry."

"But I love it when you touch me, just not quite so hard." Merry took his 
hand, unconcerned with the curious gazes of the sentries, and led Pippin to 
their tent. "Let's go to bed now. You can rest your head on my shoulder 
and I'll sing you to sleep so you'll have nothing but sweet dreams. We can 
talk about what's bothering you in the morning. You've been so 
preoccupied lately."

Pippin stopped. "There's nothing to talk about."

"All right," Merry replied reluctantly, "but you need to rest."

Pippin couldn't disagree with that. He was so weary; his dark thoughts and 
nightmares had robbed him of any real rest for an entire week.

Merry did sing him sweetly to sleep as he used to do when Pippin was a 
child, but the beauty of the song and Merry's love was not enough to keep 
the nightmares at bay. The next morning, Merry was obviously concerned, 
but didn't press Pippin for an explanation. Merry did nag Pippin to eat 
when his troubles began to take their toll on his appetite. 

They arrived in Minas Tirith a day and a half later. The two Hobbits were 
greeted by the great city's inhabitants and given a hero's welcome. Pippin 
would normally have enjoyed the attention, but instead he felt exposed and 
afraid. He smiled and waved out of politeness, but wished he could just 
hide in his quarters and sleep deep enough to escape his thoughts for a few 
hours. 

The sight of the gleaming White Tower of Ecthelion made him grow cold 
inside and start to shiver. Though the weather was quite warm, he pulled 
his cloak around him. Merry caught his eye, but Pippin merely smiled and 
urged his pony forward. 

As Faramir led them up the seven levels of the city to the Citadel and King 
Elessar, Pippin made a conscious effort to remind himself of happier 
occasions: Aragorn's coronation, his marriage to Queen Arwen, all the 
wonderful parties before, during, and after. Thinking about parties made 
Pippin's empty stomach growl. He hoped Strider had a morsel or two to 
spare a couple of hungry Hobbits. 

At the entrance to the Citadel, they dismounted and their steeds were led 
away to the stables. Pippin was heartened by the blossoming White Tree in 
the Court of the Fountain, but as entered the Tower Hall, the nightmares 
threatened to surface. He kept his eyes on Merry who was walking slightly 
in front of him and took slow, deep breaths. King Elessar rose from his 
throne that stood on a raised dais and approached them with a broad smile 
on his handsome face. Faramir grinned and bowed to his sovereign. Then 
the King of Gondor got down on one knee and hugged Merry and Pippin 
affectionately.

"Welcome, my friends," said the King, ruffling the Hobbits' curls. "How 
was your journey?"

"Long," Merry answered with typical Hobbit pertness. "But the welcome 
your citizens provided did much to revive us."

"Though a meal would do more in that regard," Pippin added.

The King laughed. "Well, I prepared a small repast for you knowing how 
Hobbits must eat six times a day or fade into oblivion." He rose and 
extended his hand to a finely set table. Merry cried out happily and 
grabbed himself an apple. Pippin reached for a small cake but froze.

// He shut his eyes tightly and thought of Merry, but every strike caused his 
cousin to be driven from his mind's eye, until all he was left with was the 
hard wooden table and the flail.//

Aragorn furrowed his brow. "Pippin, it isn't like you to hesitate in the face 
of so much food."

Pippin took several steps backward and pulled his cloak around him. "I'm 
not hungry."

Both Merry and the King regarded him with concern. "You must be tired," 
Aragorn said. "You look as if you haven't slept well in many days." 

Merry shook his head in confirmation of that fact.

"Yes, I-I'm tired," Pippin stammered. "Would it be terribly rude of me if I 
went to lie down for a while?"

Aragorn smiled gently. "Of course not. I'll have someone take you to your 
quarters."

Just then, Legolas and Gimli entered the Hall. The Dwarf went to embrace 
his two friends, but stopped when he saw their grim expressions. "What a 
welcome such long faces are! What's the matter, my friends?"

Pippin looked down at his furry feet. Merry smiled apologetically. "Pippin 
is just tired. He wants to take a nap."

"Perhaps you can show them the way to their quarters," Aragorn 
suggested.

Legolas inclined his head nobly. "We would be honored."

Legolas and Gimli helped settle them into their lodgings. Gimli 
admonished Pippin to sleep well for the King had planned a grand feast 
that evening in their honor. 

As soon as the door closed Merry turned to face his cousin. "When are you 
going to tell me what's wrong?"

Pippin sighed sadly as he struggled with the laces on his tunic. "I told you, 
I'm just tired, Merry."

"I thought you trusted me."

Pippin pulled off his mail and tossed it in a chair, then crawled into bed. "I 
trust you with my life, you know that."

"But not with this, whatever it is," Merry replied angrily. "You just go 
ahead and sleep or sulk, I'm going visiting."

Merry had his hand on the door when Pippin called his name. "Aren't you 
going to kiss me goodbye?"

Merry laughed and fell on the bed. He took Pippin in his arms and 
showered him with kisses, tickling his ribs in the process. When Pippin 
recovered from his fit of giggles, he embraced Merry and clung to him 
desperately. Merry heard Pippin's strangled sobs in his ear and felt his 
body quivering. Merry laid him down gently and removed his own gear. 
He snuggled next to Pippin in his breeches and shirt, wrapping his arms 
around his trembling cousin. "I'll go visiting later."

They awoke in the early evening. Pippin felt refreshed, agreeing to dine 
with their friends after some coaxing from Merry. The feast proved just the 
remedy for Pippin's spirits. 

He was surrounded by his friends, filled with fine food and ale. Denethor 
was dead, his power spent. Even with Pippin's fertile imagination, he could 
not even feel the Steward's lingering essence in the Citadel. Pippin laughed 
for ten minutes at the priceless expression on Gimli's face when Legolas 
whispered the true nature of Merry and Pippin's relationship in the Dwarf's 
ear. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of anymore. 

He turned to Merry and gazed lovingly at his cousin, expressing his 
thoughts in a single glance. Merry smiled back, relieved, and squeezed 
Pippin's hand under the table. That night, their lovemaking was gently 
rapturous as it always had been.

The next day, Pippin took Merry on a tour of the city, reliving his finest 
moments as a Guard of the Citadel. "That's the spot where I killed the 
really big Orc," he told Merry as they stood near the fifth gate. "It must 
have been seven feet tall, at least."

Merry snickered. "I think that Orc has grown a few feet since the last time 
you told me this story."

"Don't mock me, Merry," Pippin said with a smile.

Merry looked up and shielded his eyes from the warm sun. "It must be 
almost time for luncheon. No wonder I'm starving." 

"Perhaps you'll be more receptive to my tales of valor with a full belly." 
Pippin led him to a cozy room located in the north side of the White Tower 
where the Guards of the Citadel took their meals. They were quickly 
served the finest fare the buttery had to offer along with a flagon of ale. 
Merry began to eat heartily, but Pippin froze when he caught site of a 
ghost. 

"Don't let him see me!" he breathed.

"What was that, Pippin?" When Merry discovered he was talking to thin 
air, he looked down and saw that Pippin had ducked under the table. He 
had his knees pulled up to his chest and was hugging himself tightly, 
rocking back in forth with terror in his green eyes. "I swear I thought he 
was dead! Don't let him see me, Merry!"

Merry joined Pippin under the table. "Don't let who see you?"

"That man." Pippin pointed south, but all Merry could see was booted feet. 

"Which man?"

"Two tables over, smoking a pipe and laughing at me."

Merry peeked from under the table and saw the man he was referring to. 
The guard had an unpleasant visage, to be sure. He was indeed laughing, 
but wasn't even looking in their direction. Merry turned his attention back 
to Pippin, who was now crawling towards the door. Merry followed, but 
had trouble keeping up when Pippin broke into a dead run once he was 
outside.

Merry soon had no breath to call for Pippin to stop, so he just followed 
him back to their quarters. Pippin ran inside and almost shut the door in 
Merry's face. He backed away from Merry, whimpering with his eyes 
darting to and fro, resembling a cornered animal.

Merry grabbed Pippin's arms and held them, even though Pippin tried to 
yank himself free. "Why did you run from that man?"

Pippin shut his eyes and shook his head. 

Frustrated, Merry shook him. "I can't help you unless you tell me what's 
wrong!"

"I thought he was dead, Merry," Pippin keened. "I was sure of it. I want to 
go home! Please take me home!"

"Did that man hurt you?" Merry asked more gently.

Pippin looked down and nodded almost imperceptibly. 

Merry cupped his face in his hands. "By my life, he will not harm you 
again. But you must tell me what happened. Whatever it is it's destroying 
you."

Pippin turned away, his tears flowing freely. "It's not fit for your ears."

"Nonsense." Merry kissed the tears from Pippin's cheeks. "You know you 
can tell me anything."

~*~

PART TWO

March, 1419 S. R.

It was Pippin's first full day in the service of Gondor and already he had 
tired of his onerous duty. He had just witnessed a father sending his only 
surviving son to certain death; and now it was Pippin's task to distract the 
Steward from his worries with songs and stories, the very last thing Pippin 
was in the mood for right now. 

Pippin, like most Hobbits, showed his emotions readily in his eyes and 
countenance. His shock and dismay at Lord Denethor's actions towards 
poor Faramir was quickly turning into open dislike of the Steward. 

Denethor finished his morning meal without offering Pippin a morsel. The 
Hobbit had eaten a meager first breakfast with Gandalf, now his stomach 
begged for a second. Denethor settled into his black, unadorned chair at the 
foot of the raised dais and lightly banged the silver gong by his footstool. 
Seconds later, servants emerged to clear the dishes. 

Denethor stared straight ahead, but it was clear to Pippin that his attention 
was elsewhere. "If you had not told me of your lineage, I would have 
guessed your princely heritage," said the Steward finally. 

Pippin felt mild alarm at Denethor's forbidding tone, but nonetheless 
beamed. "Thank you, my Lord, I have been called many things before my 
arrival in your great City, but never princely. I have hardly gotten used to 
the nickname your people have dubbed me; Ernil i Pheriannath." A small 
smirk played at his lips as he recalled the more common epithets that had 
been hurled at him over the years: truant, rascal, malingerer, and Gandalf's 
favorite, 'fool of a Took'.

"It was not a compliment, Peregrin son of Paladin," Denethor replied 
harshly. "I say I would have recognized you as high-born because of your 
arrogance." 

"Arrogance?" Pippin was truly surprised. "I am sorry if I have offended 
you, my Lord, but I beg of you to please tell me how I have done so, so I 
will not repeat my mistake."

Denethor rose slowly from his chair, his lined face twisted with rage. 
Pippin immediately jumped to his feet but remained by his own chair, 
looking down at the floor. 

Denethor stood before him and pushed Pippin down. The Hobbit stumbled 
as he sat. Denethor put his heavy hands on Pippin's shoulders and leaned 
forward. When Pippin dared to raise his head, their noses were almost 
touching. Denethor's seething anger frightened Pippin, but he could do 
nothing now that he was an esquire of the Steward.

Pippin started to perspire.

"You do not approve of my treatment of Faramir." It was a statement, not a 
question. Pippin remained silent and still. "Perhaps I should not have been 
so hard on my younger son. He has been a disappointment to me, yes, but 
he did not kill Boromir." Denethor suddenly grabbed Pippin by the front of 
his black surcoat emblazoned with the White Tree of Gondor, lifting him 
out of his chair and off the ground. "You killed him!" he shrieked, 
spraying spittle in Pippin's face. "He died to save your miserable carcass! 
You and your kind killed my son!" 

The Steward threw Pippin backward, sending the Hobbit crashing into the 
chair and onto the floor. Pippin leapt to his feet, unharmed. He used his 
small size and agility to evade Denethor and ran towards the great doors 
where the guards stood as still as statues. "Please, help me! I must find 
Gandalf--I mean, Mithrandir, please--!"

The guards ignored Pippin and looked to their Lord. Pippin made one last 
desperate plea, but it was again disregarded. "The good men of Gondor, 
indeed! What sort of honor is this?"

Pippin's question was answered when Denethor grabbed his hair from 
behind and pulled his head back. "Bring me a flail and some rope, Carius." 
One of the guards bowed smartly and left on the Steward's errand. Pippin 
thought he saw the hint of a smile on Carius' face.

Denethor threw Pippin down, then kicked him viciously in the side and 
groin. Pippin started to weep. "Gandalf...Gandalf, please help me...." When 
Pippin realized that he was not to be delivered from his torment, he clung 
instead to the image of one beloved that would raise him above it. He 
smiled blissfully and whispered, "Merry."

At Denethor's order, the second guard dragged Pippin to his feet, then 
picked him up and sat him on the table.

The Steward approach was slow and menacing. "Who is Merry?"

Pippin hesitated. Denethor grabbed his hair and twisted it. 

"He's my kinsman!" Pippin yelped.

Denethor nodded, loosening his grip. "Ah, yes, Meriadoc of the Shire, is 
that correct?"

Pippin nodded warily.

"The other Halfling my Boromir died for." Another flash of anger filled 
Denethor's eyes, followed by a sadistic twist of Pippin's curls, then he 
suddenly released him. "He rides with King Theoden to Gondor's aid." 
Denethor's mocking tone infuriated Pippin.

"He does, and bravely, I have no doubt," Pippin answered proudly.

Denethor backhanded Pippin across the face. "Do not take that tone with 
me, Ernil. Why do you call out your kinsman's name?"

Pippin just stared at Denethor, speechless. Fearing another blow he said, 
"He is my dearest friend. When I'm frightened the thought of him gives me 
comfort." Pippin rubbed his cheek gingerly, then heard the great doors 
open. 

It was Carius. He was carrying a bundle of rope in his hand and a studded 
flail in the other. "No!" Pippin started to scramble off the table, but the 
other guard held him fast, while Carius forced Pippin onto his belly and 
grabbed his feet. Pippin kicked wildly, once or twice hitting his mark. 

The stony-faced guard went to bind his hands when Denethor said, "Strip 
him first, Severn. We mustn't ruin his uniform. Ernil, I will teach you a 
lesson this day that you will never forget, but you will die a guard of the 
Citadel when it falls." Severn pulled off his tunic and mail easily, but had a 
harder time removing his shirt. Several buttons popped off and bounced on 
the marble floor. 

Carius was even rougher. He reached for the ties on Pippin's breeches, his 
hand lingering far longer than it needed to. He yanked Pippin's breeches 
off, catching his flaccid member on the fabric, causing the Hobbit to cry 
out in pain. The two guards tied his hands and feet to the table until he was 
laying facedown and spread-eagled. Carius ran his hand over the flesh on 
Pippin's back and buttocks; his muscles recoiled at the guard's touch.  

"As pretty as a maid, my Lord." He slapped Pippin's rump and laughed. 

Denethor pushed Carius away from the Hobbit. "You may have him when 
I am finished instructing him."

Pippin struggle against his bonds in a sudden panic, but was cuffed in the 
head for his trouble. He saw Denethor take the flail and walk behind him. 
Pippin braced himself for the first lash, but he couldn't have prepared 
himself for the blinding pain as the metal spikes ripped through his tender 
flesh. He screamed so loudly that he was certain someone must have heard 
him, but no one came to his rescue. 

He waited for the next stroke, but it only came when the agony of the first 
blow melted into a dull throb. He shut his eyes tightly and thought of dear 
Merry, but every strike caused his cousin to be driven from his mind's eye, 
until all he was left with was the hard wooden table and the flail. Pippin 
looked down at the floor only vaguely aware of his own blood dripping off 
the table in splatters, little puddles of bright red marring the flawless 
marble. His screams seemed to come from farther and farther away. After 
the fifth lash, Pippin lost consciousness....

Pippin felt a large, soft hand caressing his cheek, followed by a hard slap. 
Pippin started and tried to sit up, but he was still bound. He was laying 
face up now, though still naked and exposed. His back was on fire, but he 
was lying on soft cushions. He almost apologized for soiling the fine 
pillows with his blood, but realized that would be silly. His arms were 
pulled back and his hands were tied to either table leg. He could move his 
legs more freely, for they were loosely tied at the other end of the table. 
The guard Severn was gone, but the brutal guard Carius was still there, 
standing next to his master.

Denethor was sitting on the edge of the table, looking down on Pippin 
almost kindly. Denethor's hand left Pippin's face and trailed along his jaw 
line, down his neck and chest, then rested on his belly. "You are right, 
Carius, our Ernil is pretty as a maid, but he is disobedient and willful."

The guard laughed. "Look how little he is." Carius roughly grabbed 
Pippin's limp member. The Hobbit felt his face flush with anger and 
embarrassment. "Wonder if it ever stands at attention."

The Steward's stony face twisted in a grim smile. "I suspect it does when 
our Ernil thinks of his dear Merry."

Pippin couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath that alerted his torturers that 
they had guessed his secret. Denethor leaned over him and took his 
member in his large hand, stroking it gently. It had no affect, of course, 
except to make Pippin nauseous. He turned away, but Denethor forced 
Pippin to look at him

"What does your Merry look like? Is he very fair?"

Pippin remained silent. Denethor grabbed him around the throat. "Would 
you prefer the flail across your back? Tell me what he looks like!"

Pippin whimpered and relented. Merry was out of Denethor's reach; what 
harm could a description do? "I think he's the fairest Hobbit in the Shire."

The Steward stroked him again. "Close your eyes and think of him."

Pippin quickly complied, strangely grateful for the sweet distraction. "He 
has the softest yellow curls, earnest blue-grey eyes that look like the sky on 
a stormy day....Oh Merry...." The hand left Pippin's member and was 
replaced by a warm, wet mouth. Pippin shut his eyes even tighter to 
maintain the fragile illusion that it was Merry who was pleasuring him. 
"Oh Merry, please." Pippin began to buck his hips up to meet the warm 
tongue that enveloped him. With a soft moan and a final cry of "MERRY!" 
he shot his seed.

Then Pippin opened his eyes. His blood froze in his veins when he saw 
Denethor licking him clean. Pippin's heart was crushed by the weight of 
the humiliation the Steward had heaped upon him. Denethor had even 
made the thought of Merry seem dirty.

"How does the Halfling taste, my Lord?" Carius asked with a smirk.

"Like a man," Denethor said with dissatisfaction. "I expected him to taste 
like strawberries and cream, but I suppose our Ernil is more like a man 
than any of us would care to believe--he has the same base passions, and 
partakes in the worst perversions of men."

Mortified that a Hobbit of the Shire would be compared to a man of 
Gondor, Pippin found his voice, his spirit renewed with his rage. "I am a 
Hobbit, not a man! And a Hobbit would never commit such an atrocity, 
even against his worst enemy!"

Denethor turned on him angrily. "No doubt, you are unaware that in Rohan 
liaisons between two men, or two male Halflings for that matter, are 
against the King's laws and are punishable by death." Denethor's face 
broke out in an evil grin. "And not just any death; if King Theoden was to 
discover your Merry's proclivities, he would be hanged, revived, 
disemboweled, then each limb would be tied to a horse and his body ripped 
apart."

"Merry has done nothing wrong!" Pippin shouted. "He doesn't even know 
how I feel."

Denethor smiled. "Do you think Theoden King would take the word of a 
Halfling over mine?"

Not fully comprehending the ways of men, Pippin believed his threat. 
"Please," Pippin begged with tears in his eyes, "leave Merry alone. I'll do 
anything you want."

The Steward laughed. "How can I resist such a plaintive plea? You are 
beginning to understand the meaning of obedience to true power, Ernil."

Denethor climbed between Pippin's legs and lifted him so his buttocks 
rested on the Steward's thighs. Denethor unlaced his breeches and took out 
his already-erect member. He held out his hand and Carius poured a small 
amount of liquid in Denethor's hand. He first rubbed some on himself, then 
between Pippin's cleft. Only then realizing what was in store for him, 
Pippin started to struggle futilely. 

Carius held him fast, as Denethor probed Pippin's untried entrance. After 
several painful attempts, Denethor managed to shove part of his cock 
inside the Hobbit. Pippin shrieked in agony as Denethor began moving 
inside of him. The Steward's pale face filled with lust as he looked down at 
Pippin. "What a beautiful mouth you have." 

Pippin shut his lips tightly, but they were forced open by another scream as 
Denethor thrust hard inside him. Denethor took the opportunity to cover 
Pippin's mouth with his own and force his tongue inside until Pippin 
thought he would choke. The Steward's thrusts became more violent, and 
the man moaned and grunted against Pippin's mouth. 

The old man plunged his cock and tongue into Pippin again and again. 
When Denethor finally withdrew his tongue from Pippin's mouth, the 
Hobbit whimpered, "Please, my Lord," against his lips. He wanted the 
Steward to hurry and finish, but the Denethor interpreted it as 
encouragement. He pulled Pippin farther onto his cock until he was 
completely buried inside Pippin's bloody backside. After one last cry, 
Pippin's eyes rolled back into his head and his jaw went slack, but 
unconsciousness refused to claim him. Just when Pippin was certain he 
would expire, Denethor threw his head back with a loud groan and pulled 
out of Pippin, showering the Hobbit's body with semen; a glob of it 
reached Pippin's cheek and the corner of his mouth, mixing with his tears. 
The salty, sour taste of the Steward made him cough and gag. Carius was 
rubbing himself through his uniform as he eagerly watched the dreadful 
scene.

Pippin had never felt so unclean in his life. How could he have pretended 
this monster was his Merry? How could he even utter his precious name in 
the Steward's presence? Pippin wept bitterly, praying that death would take 
him. He cracked his eyes open when he realized he was being untied. For a 
brief moment, he thought his ordeal was finally over, but he was not being 
released, Carius was merely turning him over onto his belly. While his feet 
were free, he tried to kick the guard, but felt the flail across his back. He 
almost passed out and stayed still, awaiting another blow. Instead he felt a 
great weight on top of him. Denethor stood in front of him, alerting Pippin 
that it must be the guard finally taking his reward. Pippin felt large, rough 
fingers probing his raw opening. The guard soon removed his fingers, but 
Pippin hardly had time to breathe a sigh of relief.

The guard shoved himself inside Pippin; his cock felt twice as big as 
Denethor's. Carius grabbed Pippin's hips so he could thrust into the 
helpless Hobbit relentlessly. Denethor watched appreciatively for a few 
moments. He seemed to especially enjoy Pippin's screams; the corners of 
the Steward's mouth curled in a vicious grin whenever the Hobbit cried 
out. 

Denethor released his own cock from underneath his robes and grabbed 
Pippin by the hair, forcing his mouth onto his cock-head that had minutes 
before been inside Pippin's backside. "Suck me, Ernil; no teeth, or I'll 
knock them out," Denethor warned.

Pippin really was afraid he might vomit as he was forced to suck the 
Steward's befouled cock. Carius had increased the pace of his thrusts until 
Pippin thought the lower half of his body must be ablaze. He pulled out of 
Pippin and a second later, Carius sprayed his semen all over the fresh 
wounds on Pippin's back. Pippin jerked his head up from Denethor's cock 
and let out a shriek of pain that could have been heard in Mordor; 
blackness followed. 

Pippin awoke. He was no longer tied up, but he was being held down by 
the guard who had....

Pippin shut his teary eyes tightly and began to sob weakly.

"Hush, little one." It was the firm but gentle voice of a woman. Pippin 
flinched when she touched the welts on his back, but soon felt relief from 
the pain as she slathered a salve over his wounds. 

Pippin heard Denethor's boots approach and started to tremble violently. 
The Steward shooed the guard away. He leaned down so he was staring 
into Pippin's eyes. Pippin forced himself to meet his gaze filled with 
madness, lest he anger the Steward further.

"What happened here will not leave this hall, is that understood?"

Pippin nodded briskly. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone, especially 
Gandalf or Merry, discovering his shame. 

Denethor ran his hand through Pippin's curls and cupped his face. "The 
most valuable lessons are often the most painful ones. I am the power in 
Gondor. All bow to my will."

"Yes, my Lord," Pippin replied shakily.

Pippin felt the healer's gentle hands turn him to his side and help him sit 
up. Pippin was dizzy and had to swallow to keep his nausea at bay. The 
woman helped him dress and Pippin did not resist. Pippin risked a glance, 
hoping to see compassion in the healer's eyes, but her expression was cold 
and clinical. She helped him off the table, but Pippin's legs refused to hold 
him up. He fell to his knees as he began retching on the marble floor.

"Take him to his quarters to rest, healer," said Denethor. "Then, Peregrin 
son of Paladin, I expect you up on the battlements two hours hence."

Pippin dragged a shaking hand across his mouth and rose unsteadily to his 
feet. "Yes, my Lord."

~*~

PART THREE

Merry kept his emotions in check as best he could as he listened to Pippin's 
unspeakable tale; still his face was wet with tears. He held Pippin for a 
long while as he sobbed, crooning softly and placing tender kisses on 
Pippin's forehead. 

"I'm sorry, Merry," Pippin cried.

Merry took him by the shoulders. "Don't you dare apologize to me or 
anyone else," Merry said gently, though he had trouble reigning in his 
anger towards Pippin's tormentors. "You didn't deserve this, Pippin." He 
laid his young cousin down, resting his head on the pillows. "You should 
try to sleep for a while. You've hardly slept in days."

Pippin looked so weary after reliving his ordeal. Merry helped him out of 
the King's livery and settled him under the covers. "I'm going to get you 
something special from the kitchens."

Pippin's face brightened. "Your mushroom pie?"

Merry smiled broadly at Pippin's renewed enthusiasm for food. "If I can 
find any mushrooms, I'll make you the biggest mushroom pie you ever 
saw, all for you."

"You must have some too, Merry. Since you're making it it's only right for 
you to have a little piece."

Merry laughed and kissed the tip of Pippin's nose.

They wrapped their arms around each other tightly. "I love you so much, 
Merry."

"I love you too, Pippin. Don't worry, that...man will be dealt with. He 
won't hurt you ever again."

Pippin bowed his head, still unsure. "What are you going to do?"

"We'll have to tell the King," said Merry. "That villain can't be allowed to 
get away with what he did to you."

Pippin's eyes widened in alarm. "Please, Merry, I don't want anyone else to 
know!"

Merry placed another soft kiss on Pippin's lips. "All right, don't worry 
about it now. You lock the door behind me. I'll be back soon."

Pippin nodded and followed Merry to the door. He briefly clung to Merry's 
sleeve, but let him go.

Merry stood outside their door until he heard the bolt slide in place. With 
grim determination he put his hand on the hilt of his sword. At that 
moment, Merry resolved to send that monster Carius to his Maker. 

~*~

Queen Arwen was at her husband's side, hearing petitions from the City's 
citizens in the Tower Hall, when her attention was abruptly turned inward. 
The King's voice became hollow and thin; a roar of anger and grief filled 
her ears. She dropped the parchment she had been reading as blood 
clouded her mind's eye. Blood drawn in vengeance. Blood and death 
defiling the hands of a dear friend....

"Merry!" Arwen jumped to her feet and turned to the King. "We must stop 
him, Estel!"

~*~

"Carius son of Anaris?"

The guard turned when Merry called his name. Merry thought he saw a 
brief flash of fear in the man's eyes, but it was quickly covered by an 
arrogant smirk. "What can I do for you, little lordling?"

Merry removed his blade from its sheath. "You can draw your sword."

Carius snorted and looked to the other guard he was on duty with. The 
other guard cracked a nervous smile which soon faded. "I have no quarrel 
with you--"

"Meriadoc son of Saradoc, but it's Master Brandybuck to you."

Carius waved his hand in dismissal and started to turn away. "I have no 
time for games, Master Brandybuck."

"Nor do I!" Merry rumbled dangerously. "I'm here to avenge the grievous 
assault on my kinsman, Peregrin son of Paladin. Your people called him 
Ernil i Pheriannath."

Carius laughed mockingly, but Merry could see the fear returning to his 
eyes. "Of course, I know of him, but I have never met him."

"Liar!" Merry charged the guard and swiped his sword across the man's 
middle, cutting through his black surcoat to the mail shirt underneath.  

Carius was shocked at the viciousness of the Hobbit's strike and was slow 
to react. He finally raised his own sword, but Merry cut the man's hand, 
causing him to drop it. Merry drew back and aimed for the man's thigh, 
unprotected by his armor, when he felt a strong hand grab his wrist.

"No, Merry!" 

Even though he recognized the King's voice, Merry used all his might to 
try to pull away, but the sword was wrenched from his hand. Merry turned 
as he burst into tears and fell into the King's arms. "He hurt Pippin, Strider! 
He deserves to die!"

"When did he hurt Pippin?" the King asked gently.

"Days before the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Pippin just told me everything. 
He tortured him!" then more quietly, "He raped him, Strider."

Aragorn went pale and hugged Merry tightly. 

Arwen's beautiful eyes narrowed in dignified rage. She looked to the 
Citadel guards that had rushed to the source of the commotion and pointed 
at Carius. "Arrest him!"

Any distress the guards may have felt was hidden by their helmets. The 
two largest guards present grabbed Carius by his arms and dragged him 
off. Carius' protestations of innocence echoed in the Citadel long after he 
was out of sight. 

~*~

The King and Queen escorted Merry back to the Tower Hall and 
summoned Prince Faramir. Lady Eowyn arrived with him; Legolas and 
Gimli soon followed when news of the skirmish spread through the City.

Merry regarded the King angrily. "Why did you stop me?"

"Because the sentence for murder is death, Merry," Aragorn answered. "If 
this man did what you claim he did then he will be punished in accordance 
with the laws of Gondor. Once a King or his friends become above his 
own laws, he becomes a tyrant."

"What is the sentence for rape?" Merry inquired.

"Castration usually," Faramir answered, "but given the added charge of 
torture and Pippin's rank it should be death." 

"Why choose?" asked Merry. "I'll gladly carry out both sentences if you'll 
let me." Eowyn put comforting arms around Merry and gave him a 
supportive squeeze.

"I agree he deserves the harshest punishment, but Merry, don't wish for 
this man's evil to rub off on you," said the King. "Pippin needs support, not 
vengeance."

"Then let me do it," growled Gimli, raising his axe. "I'll take him apart a 
piece at a time and I know just what piece to start with."

"Pippin! I left him alone. He's waiting for me." Merry jumped up, but King 
Elessar stopped him.

"You'll stay here, Merry, where I can keep an eye on you. Legolas, would 
you fetch Pippin?"

The Elf rose gracefully and inclined his head. "Of course."

~*~

Pippin heard a soft knock on the door. He grabbed his sword and held it 
before him. "Who is it?"

"It is Legolas, Pippin. The King wishes to see you."

Pippin slid the bolt back slowly and opened the door only a crack, not 
trusting the voice on the other side. He breathed a sigh of relief when he 
saw the familiar countenance of his fair Elf friend, but then a look of 
concern crossed his face. "Where's Merry?"

Legolas entered the room and closed the door behind him. He knelt down 
in front of Pippin and smiled. "Merry is fine. I will take you to him this 
very minute."

Pippin's eyes widened in alarm. "Something's wrong."

Legolas shook his fair head. "Everything is just as it should be." He paused 
and stroked Pippin's curls. "Merry tried to kill the man who hurt you, and 
he would have if the King had not stopped him. Carius is sitting in a cell 
right now, awaiting the King's justice."

"Is Merry hurt?"

"There is not a scratch on him," said the Elf. "He handled himself well. He 
loves you very much."

"But you all know now--what that guard did." Pippin looked down in 
shame.

Legolas took Pippin's chin in his hand and raised his head. "It is not your 
fault. You did nothing wrong. Now you say it."

Pippin grinned shyly. "It's not my fault. I did nothing wrong."

"Just keep repeating that to yourself until you believe it."

Pippin nodded and took the Elf's hand, allowing Legolas to lead him to the 
Tower. As soon as Pippin laid eyes on his kinsman, he ran into Merry's 
arms, then Pippin shook him. "How could you do something so reckless, 
Merry? Where would I be if I had lost you?"

"I'm sorry I lied to you Pippin, but I couldn't let him get away with it."

"He won't," said the King. "But I'll need your help, Pippin. I'll need you to 
tell your side of it again, in front of Carius."

Pippin looked up at the King in fear. "But I've already told Merry 
everything!"

"I know," said King Elessar. "I wish I could take Merry's word, but I need 
to hear it from you. And Carius has the right to face his accuser and defend 
himself--that's the law I am bound by."

"I don't want to face him, Strider!" Pippin cried, "I just want to go home 
and forget it ever happened."

The King knelt down and cupped Pippin's cheek in his hand. "But you 
haven't forgotten, have you, Pippin?"

Pippin looked down and shook his head.

"I won't force you to face him, but consider this. Such brutality is rarely an 
isolated incident. I doubt you were Carius' first victim, or his last."

Pippin raised his head and met the King's eyes. "You mean he might have 
done this to others?"

"I think it's very likely." The King turned to Faramir who nodded his head.  
"It's your duty to stop this injustice as a Knight of Gondor and a member 
of the great Fellowship, not to mention as heir to the Thainship of the 
Shire."

"I know you're right, Strider," admitted Pippin, "but if I do this--I'm afraid 
I will hurt someone we both hold dear." Pippin's eyes strayed to Prince 
Faramir for merely a second, but it was enough to alert the King.

The King searched Pippin's face for a moment, then closed his eyes and 
sighed. "Carius was not alone, was he Pippin?"

Pippin hesitated. Faramir knelt down next the King. "Who was it, Pippin? 
Another guard?"

Pippin turned from Faramir's gaze and burst into tears. Merry gathered him 
in an embrace and stroked his curls. Merry regarded the Prince 
sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Faramir, but it was your own father who 
ordered it and...used him first."

Pippin clung to Merry even tighter as he wept against his shoulder.

The King rose wearily to his feet. "Oh, Pippin."

Eowyn went to her husband, but he shrugged her off. Faramir chuckled 
nervously. "It's not true. Pippin must be mistaken--"

Merry shook his head with another apology in his eyes.

Faramir's face turned red with anger. "Then he's lying!"

"Why would Pippin lie about such a thing?" answered the King.  "He did 
not want to speak of it at all for fear of hurting you!"

"You must have done something to provoke him," Faramir said, pointing 
an accusing finger at Pippin. "These Hobbits have bewitching ways about 
them. Frodo and Sam convinced me to let them go even though I had the 
Ring in my grasp. You tempted my father with your fair voice and your 
eyes."

"No!" Pippin protested through his tears.

"Faramir, you know that isn't true," said Eowyn.

"How do you know?" Faramir said, now turning on his wife. "We only 
have the word of a Halfling."

"Stop it, Prince Faramir!" said Merry angrily. "The only thing Pippin did 
to provoke your father was to show his outrage over his treatment of you! I 
think we've had quite enough of Gondorian hospitality. Come on, Pippin, 
let's go to our quarters. We'll leave for the Shire in the morning."

Gimli shot Faramir an evil look. Legolas' expression remained even as he 
stepped forward. "We'll ride with you as far as you wish."

"Thank you, my friends," Merry replied gratefully. "We'll gladly take you 
up on that offer."

As soon as the Hobbits left the hall, an angry Eowyn took Faramir aside. 
"The only beguiling thing about them is their innocence and goodness."

"Innocence?" Faramir hissed. "Pippin's bedding his own kinsman! Perhaps 
he did tempt my father."

Eowyn folded her arms across her chest and glared at her husband coldly, 
as only the Rohan Princess could. "Just yesterday you were saying how 
very sweet Merry and Pippin look together. I know the truth is hard to 
accept, but your father's sickness was far worse than even you could have 
imagined."

Faramir looked away. After a long pause, he whispered, "I know." Taking 
a deep breath, he straightened to his full height, turned on his heel and 
marched out of the Tower Hall.

~*~

"Perhaps Faramir is right," Pippin said as he undressed. "Perhaps I did do 
something to provoke Lord Denethor. I say and do foolish things all the 
time without realizing it. If only I had fought harder...if only I hadn't been 
so weak…"

Merry put his hands on Pippin's shoulders and met his eyes. "Just pretend 
for a moment that it happened to me instead of you. Would you think me 
weak?"

"I hate it when you do this, Merry." Whenever Pippin was particularly hard 
on himself, Merry would turn the tables to allow Pippin to see things in 
perspective. 

"You didn't answer my question."

"It wouldn't have happened to you," Pippin replied. "You would have 
fought back and gotten away."

"But Pippin, I fought as hard as I could. I tried to get away, but they were 
too strong. They tied me up, what could I do?"

"You wouldn't have borne it. You would have rather died fighting than let 
them use you so."

Merry shook his head and stroked Pippin's cheek. "But then I would never 
see you again. It was my love for you that helped me through it. My love 
was the only good and noble thing in the Tower that day. My love for you 
was stronger than their hate or depravity. They were the weak ones, not 
me."

"Do you really believe that, Merry?" Pippin asked hopefully.

Before Merry could respond there was a knock on the door, startling both 
Hobbits. 

"Who is it?" Merry asked curtly.

"It's Faramir."

Pippin opened his mouth to speak, but Merry raised his hand to silence 
him. "Whatever you have to say can wait until morning."

"Please hear me out," said the Steward. "I'm so sorry for what I said."

Merry remained unmoved, but Pippin went to the door and opened it. 
"Please come in." Faramir did not meet Pippin's eyes as the Hobbit led him 
to a chair. "Would you like some tea? Or perhaps a biscuit?"

"No, please, I'll only be a moment." Faramir took a steadying breath before 
he spoke. "My father was always a stern man, but after my mother died, 
his heart hardened into stone. His mind was twisted by grief and fear. I was 
always a disappointment to him, but despite our differences, I loved him. I 
had no idea…how could I know he was capable of such evil?" Tears 
welled in the Prince's eyes. "You must understand…I couldn't bear to 
believe he could do such a thing to you--"

"Of course not," Pippin replied with deep sympathy. "And I wish to spare 
you any further pain. I'll never speak of it again."

"But you must, Pippin," said Faramir, finally meeting the Hobbit's gaze. 
"Carius has a history of preying on those weaker than he. He's abused 
several prostitutes in the past."

Pippin gazed at Merry questioningly. 

"Like those women who approached us in Bree," Merry explained.

Faramir looked at Merry in surprise. "You mean, you don't have 
prostitution in the Shire?"

"Of course not," answered Merry. "No Hobbit would pay for something 
that should be given freely and with love."

Faramir regarded the two Hobbits with a renewed sense of awe. "How 
could I have ever thought ill of you?"

Pippin smiled kindly. "It's forgotten."

Faramir knelt before Pippin and took his hand. "Please except my sincerest 
apology for the evil my father inflicted upon you. His shame is now my 
shame."

"Now, that's just silly," said Pippin matter-of-factly. He touched Faramir's 
cheek; the Prince slowly raised his head. "It's not your fault, Faramir. You 
did nothing wrong. Now you say it."

Faramir looked at him in confusion.

"Go on, then. Say it."

Tears began streaming down Faramir's fair face. "It's not my fault. I did 
nothing wrong."

Pippin embraced the Prince and shed a few more tears himself. Faramir 
withdrew after a long moment and met Pippin's eyes once again. "So you 
will bear witness against Carius tomorrow?"

Pippin tried to appear brave. "I'll be there."

~*~

The next morning, Legolas and Gimli surprised the two Hobbits with a 
fine breakfast in their room. 

Neither Merry nor Pippin had much of an appetite, but Merry made certain 
Pippin ate enough to give him the energy to endure his upcoming ordeal. 

Legolas, noticing Pippin's mounting anxiety, took the young Hobbit aside. 
"Remember Pippin, Carius may have had you in his power once, but now 
you have all the power and control. Do not allow him to unnerve you."

"I just wish I didn't have to face him," said Pippin as he nervously picked 
at his uniform. 

"You'll be surrounded by your friends and loved ones, Pippin," Gimli 
assured him. "That villain can never harm you or anyone else again."

Merry gave Pippin a quick embrace. "Are you ready, Pip?"

Pippin forced a nod, but couldn't manage a smile despite his best efforts. 
"Let's get this over with."

Faramir had warned Pippin that the entire court and half the Citadel Guard 
would be in attendance, but when he actually saw the crowd, he wanted to 
bolt and run all the way back to Crickhollow. But Merry was right next to 
him, giving Pippin's hand a supportive squeeze that filled him with 
courage.

The King and Queen sat at the top of the Tower stairs on a raised dais. The 
Steward sat on his simple black chair near the bottom. Merry, Gimli and 
Legolas took their seats with the rest of the court, while Pippin was led to a 
chair in the middle of the room. 

Only then did Pippin notice Carius sitting across from him. The guard was 
unshaven and unkempt; his face was more lined than Pippin remembered. 
Other than that, he had the same leering countenance that invaded Pippin's 
dreams and turned them into nightmares. The guard was shackled hand and 
foot, but that was little comfort to Pippin. The Hobbit felt his heartbeat and 
breath quicken when Carius broke out in a malevolent smile; Pippin 
quickly looked down at his feet.

"Peregrin son of Paladin," King Elessar began, "In the matter before us do 
you wish to bear witness against Carius son of Anaris?"

Pippin hopped to his feet. "I-I do."

"Put your hand over your heart and swear that the words that you are about 
to speak are the truth."

Pippin glanced at Carius and managed to hold his gaze briefly. The Hobbit 
put his hand over his heart. "I swear."

"Be seated, Peregrin son of Paladin," said the King, "and begin."

Pippin wished Strider wasn't all the way up on the dais, because the King's 
dispassionate expression was the only thing that stopped Pippin from 
bursting into tears in front of all these people. After an hour, Pippin's neck 
hurt.

He spoke the truth as he was bid, but he left out a few of the more 
shocking details, only to shield Prince Faramir from the whole truth about 
his father's part in his torment. Pippin also neglected to mention how his 
feelings for Merry were used against him by the Steward.

"Show us your back, Peregrin son of Paladin," said the King, "Such a 
beating as you claim Lord Denethor and Carius son of Anaris inflicted 
upon you would have left permanent marks."

Pippin thought he heard a gasp from Merry behind him. "There aren't any 
marks, Sire," Pippin said, suddenly dejected. He thought relating his 
experience would be enough for the King. If there was no physical proof 
would Carius be set free? Pippin started to tremble.

Carius laughed triumphantly, rattling his chains as he attempted to rise 
from his chair. "See, I told you he was lying!"

"Quiet, Carius!" Prince Faramir ordered. "Or I'll have you removed."

"It was Gandalf's--I mean, Mithrandir's doing," Pippin explained. "He 
healed my wounds, at no little cost to himself, I'm afraid…" 

~*~

After the Steward dismissed him, Pippin gladly obeyed Lord Denethor's 
orders by making for the room he shared with Gandalf to rest. He wept as 
he angrily pulled off his tunic and mail, throwing them across the room. 
He fell on the bed and buried his head in his pillow, then he reached for a 
spare pillow and wrapped his arms around it. In his mind's eye, Pippin 
imagined his precious Merry lying next to him. He could see them 
lounging in a field of heather, full from gorging themselves on Farmer 
Maggot's mushrooms and carrots followed by the fine white cakes Merry's 
mother always made for them in the morning. 

Pippin forgot his pain long enough to fall asleep.

"Get up, you lazy Took!"

Pippin felt the end of a staff poking into his side where Denethor had 
kicked him. He cried out and shot up in bed, cowering from the intruder.

"Gandalf!" Pippin said with surprise and relief. As the memories of the 
morning came rushing back, Pippin had a difficult time holding back his 
tears as well as his shocking tale. "You frightened me."

The old wizard furrowed his brow. "What are you doing abed at this 
hour?"

Pippin mumbled an apology, carefully avoiding the wizard's piercing blue 
eyes, flipped back the covers and jumped out of bed. He was still unsteady 
on his feet, but he managed to retrieve his mail and tunic from where he 
threw them.

"Hardly a proper way for a Guard of the Citadel to treat his--" Gandalf 
stopped in mid-sentence. Pippin turned and saw a look of shock on the 
wizard's face. "Who did this to you?"

Pippin shrugged nervously. "Did what, Gandalf? No one did anything."

"Your back, Pippin!" Gandalf threw down his staff and grabbed the young 
Hobbit by his shoulders, gently turning him around. "There are lines of 
blood on your shirt." Gandalf gingerly raised Pippin's shirt. He heard a 
sharp gasp as Gandalf saw the lashes crisscrossing his skin. Pippin flinched 
as Gandalf examined his sides and his waist. With a macabre curiosity 
Pippin wondered what other sort of marks the Steward and his guard had 
left. When Pippin felt Gandalf tugging at the waistband of his breeches, no 
doubt to see the marks covered by them, Pippin spun around and pulled his 
shirt down.

The anger on the wizard's face was palpable. "Who did this to you, 
Pippin?"

Tears started rolling down Pippin's cheeks. "No one. I fell."

Gandalf rose to his full height and raised his staff above his head. The 
crystal on top of his staff glowed a blinding white that filled the entire 
room, causing Pippin to shield his eyes. Suddenly Gandalf was no longer 
Gandalf, but the White Wizard, great and terrible. "Who committed this 
outrage?!"

Pippin fell to his knees, trembling. "No, Gandalf! Please don't! I've caused 
nothing but trouble for you and the Fellowship. You told me to be careful 
of the Steward and I didn't listen. I brought this on myself." Pippin began 
sobbing. 

Just as suddenly, the blinding whiteness faded and Gandalf was once again 
himself. "Denethor?" Gandalf breathed. "What did he do to you? He beat 
you, that much is plain--"

Pippin bit his upper lip in an effort to stem his tears. "Please don't make me 
say it. I'll die of shame if you make me say it."

Gandalf closed his eyes in horror.

"Please, Gandalf, promise me you won't do or say anything. Lord Denethor 
said he would hurt Merry if I told anyone."

Gandalf knelt before the little Hobbit and smiled sadly, as he gently 
stroked Pippin's hair. "Now, how could he do that?"

"He said he would tell King Theoden that Merry...was bad."

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf said affectionately. "Theoden does not trust 
Denethor and certainly would not judge Merry by the Steward's words." 
With tears in his own eyes, the wizard carefully embraced Pippin. "Know 
this, Peregrin Took, that if we did not have more pressing concerns 
occupying our attentions right now, I would obliterate the Steward for 
what he did to you, not only from Middle-earth, but from the very History 
of Men."

"Thank you, Gandalf," said Pippin, touched by Gandalf's anger towards 
Denethor. "But I don't want anyone else to know about this."

The wizard wiped his eyes on his sleeve and rose. "Well, then, we must do 
something about your wounds. The scars they'll leave will tell their own 
story if left to heal on their own. First, you need a bath."

"I could have a hundred baths and still not feel clean."

"Pippin, the pain will fade with time."

"How do you know?"

Gandalf grinned encouragingly. "Because pain always fades and Hobbits 
are made of sterner stuff than most."

Pippin gave Gandalf a tentative smile. The wizard prepared his bath in a 
fraction of the time it would have taken a mortal to do it. The warm water 
both stung and soothed Pippin's back and aching muscles, though he 
doubted he would be able to sit down properly for a month. He washed 
himself with the fragrant soap Gandalf provided, scrubbing as hard as he 
could stand, then harder still. 

"Don't make matters worse, Pippin," Gandalf said from outside the bath 
chamber. "Clean yourself gently and soak."

Pippin let up on his scrubbing, but didn't soak for very long. Soaking gave 
him plenty of time to think, and thinking was the last thing he wanted to do 
right now. 

He emerged from his bath, wrapped in a large towel. Gandalf knelt before 
him once more. "Now Pippin, I need you to lie on the bed on your 
stomach. I know it will be difficult, but you must trust me."

"What are you going to do?" Pippin asked fearfully.

"I have to touch you where he...hurt you, to heal your body."

Pippin started to tremble, but nodded and climbed on the bed as he was 
bid, reluctantly removing the towel and putting it to the side. 

Gandalf stood over him at the side of the bed. "What's your favorite season 
in the Shire, Pippin?"

Pippin grinned in spite of himself. "Early spring, I think; no, autumn. 
Merry and I always loved to wade through the leaves in autumn."

Gandalf smiled gently. "Then I want you to think of autumn in the Shire, 
can you do that?"

Pippin nodded. 

Pippin flinched at Gandalf's touch, but soon felt a tingling warmth over his 
back. It made the fresh wounds itch, and his skin feel tight, but it didn't 
hurt. He found no need to escape the present as Gandalf healed him. But as 
the wizard made his way past the flail wounds, Pippin started to fidget. 
When Gandalf's hands reached the soft curve of his rump, Pippin began to 
panic.

"Tell me about the leaves, Pippin," Gandalf said softly.

//. "What does your Merry look like? Is he very fair?" Pippin remained 
silent. Denethor grabbed him around the throat. "Would you prefer the flail 
across you back? Tell me what he looks like."//

Pippin cried out and started kicking frantically. The tingling stopped and 
he was startled to see Gandalf looking at him kindly. "The leaves, Pippin. 
What color are they?"

His chest still heaving, Pippin answered, "Red and gold. When we were 
small, Merry and I used to wait for the gardeners to gather the leaves in 
nice, neat piles..." he laughed softly. "One year Uncle Saradoc caught us 
and we were cleaning up leaves till Yule." He closed his eyes and sighed. 
"Carry on, Gandalf, I promise to be still." 

Gandalf nodded and stood over him again. Pippin felt Gandalf's hands, 
followed by the warm tingling over his bruised backside.

Pippin started to squirm despite his promise, when the tingling entered 
him. Thank Elbereth, Gandalf hands remained on his buttocks. Unlike 
when the Steward and his henchman violated him, the warmth tickled, the 
throbbing ache and swelling began to lessen. It also had an unexpected 
side effect: Pippin felt himself stiffen against the bed. His cheeks burned 
and he buried his face in the pillow. Thankfully, the tingling dissipated 
before he could embarrass himself further.

Gandalf covered him with the towel. "Now, you must dress quickly." The 
sudden weariness in Gandalf''s face made Pippin forget his embarrassment. 
He wrapped the towel around his middle and helped the old wizard sit at 
the edge of the bed before he fell. Gandalf wiped his brow that was damp 
with perspiration.  

He smiled at Pippin and waved away the Hobbit's concern. "I just need to 
rest a bit. Nothing to worry about."

Pippin regarded him with affection tinged with annoyance. "Gandalf, you 
shouldn't have bothered with me if you knew it would weaken you so. 
Gondor needs you more than I do."

"I'll be fine, Pippin." Gandalf took Pippin's hand and patted it. "Besides, 
it's the least I could do under the circumstances."

~*~

For the first time during the proceedings, King Elessar betrayed his 
emotions by breaking out into a small, sad smile. 

"Pretty tale, Halfling," Carius spat. "But it's still your word against mine."

"You speak the truth, Carius," Elessar agreed. "But your respective 
characters will be taken into account as well as I consider my ruling. 
Peregrin Took's character is beyond reproach; you, on the other hand, have 
a less than stellar record of service, not to mention a history of abusing 
prostitutes."

Carius snorted, unwilling or unable to abandon his bluster, even though it 
was working against him. "Who cares about a couple of whores?"

"I do," replied the King, "as I care for all my subjects."

A half-smile played on Queen Arwen's lips as she put her hand on her 
husband's arm.

As if he only then realized his life was in jeopardy, Carius began to panic. 
"He can't prove torture, there's not a mark on him!" He paused, looking 
around at his former comrades for support, but none of the Guard met his 
searching eyes. "All right, I admit I buggered him, but it wasn't rape. He 
wanted it."

Pippin's face flushed red with anger and mortification; outraged comments 
were hurled by his friends and supporters. It was several moments before 
the King could restore order.

"Try to deny it, Halfling," Carius mocked. "You came in the Steward's 
mouth. You enjoyed it. Didn't think I noticed you left that part out, did 
you?"

Pippin almost fainted from humiliation. Merry leapt out of his chair and 
took his place at Pippin's side, putting his arm around his young cousin. 
"It's all right, Pip. You tell them what really happened."

Pippin looked up and caught Lord Faramir's anguished gaze. "I'm so sorry, 
Faramir, but it wasn't like that at all." Pippin looked to Merry, suddenly 
realizing he had to betray the nature of their relationship in front of all 
these strangers. Merry appear unconcerned. "I called out Merry's name in 
desperation as Lord Denethor whipped me and your father guessed my 
feelings for him. He made me think of Merry when he touched me, that's 
the only reason I...I didn't want it to happen," he wept, "I wanted to die."

Whispers swept through the Hall, and many courtiers and guards that had 
been firmly in Pippin's camp were now regarding the Hobbit and his 
kinsman with suspicion--even revulsion. "Perhaps it wasn't as the Halfling 
claims," someone nearby murmured loud enough for Pippin to hear.

Faramir's clear, commanding voice rose above the din and silenced the 
crowd. "Carius son of Anaris, you know as well as I do, that is a common 
and effective torture technique. Make your victim feel as if he's a party to 
his suffering; that he has some modicum of control over his circumstances-
-" Faramir paused and gazed at Pippin. "Which he does not. The result is 
far more demoralizing than simply meting out pain. Your Majesty," said 
the Steward, tears welling in his eyes. "Please pronounce your sentence so 
I can have this worthless piece of refuse removed from your presence."

King Elessar nodded gravely. "Carius son of Anaris, you are hereby found 
guilty of the rape and torture of Peregrin son of Paladin, Guard of the 
Citadel, Knight of Gondor and King's Messenger. I sentence you to death. 
You will be hanged, drawn and quartered, your remains to be thrown into 
the River Ainun without honor or ceremony. The sentence will be carried 
out two days hence at sunrise." With a heavy sigh, the King asked, "Do 
you have anything to say, Carius?"

"Aye," Carius yelled. "Believe what you like, but that Halfling's naught but 
a whore!" The condemned man fixed his leering gaze on Merry. "I guess 
he's your whore now, Master Brandybuck; and your own kin, too. It's 
unnatural."

Legolas had his hands firmly on Merry's shoulders, holding him back, 
almost before the Hobbit thought to attack Carius. "Pay no heed to their 
ignorance, my friends," the Elf whispered to Merry and Pippin. "Most do 
not understand what it means to truly love."

At a wave from Faramir, Carius was led out of the Hall, followed by the 
rest of the Guard. Though their numbers soon thinned, many of the 
courtiers tarried, murmuring and glancing at the two Hobbits.

"I don't know about you three," growled Gimli, "but I could do with a 
pint."

Merry and Pippin hugged their Dwarf friend; one corner of the Elf's mouth 
curled in a slight smile. 

Gimli raised his arms and boomed, "Move aside!" Immediately, the 
thinning crowd parted allowing the Dwarf, the Elf, and two Hobbits, 
walking hand-in-hand in quiet defiance to leave the Hall.

Later that evening, Merry and Pippin sat on their balcony having a smoke. 

Pippin couldn't enjoy much in Minas Tirith anymore, but the thought of 
what would happen to Carius even ruined the smell of Old Toby. Hobbits 
had little stomach for such things. They didn't even have a death penalty; 
there had never been any need for it.

"Merry," Pippin said softly, "would you be angry with me if I ask the King 
to make it quick?"

"He doesn't deserve your pity, Pippin," said Merry.

"It's not for him" Pippin sighed. "It's not our way. We make allowances, 
we lock Hobbits up for a little while until they've learned their lesson, but 
we make certain they're well-fed and cared for in the meantime."

"But no Hobbit ever committed such a crime," Merry reminded him. "Not 
even Ted Sandyman's capable of such things." Merry looked down at his 
spent pipe. "You're right, Pippin. It's not our way. We'll ask the King to 
show the villain mercy tomorrow."

Pippin offered him the bag of pipe-weed. "Thanks, Merry."

Merry filled his pipe and lit it. "Gimli's finally agreed to explore Fangorn 
Forest. It's been some time since Legolas visited the Glittering Caves, he 
reckoned it was time for Gimli to make good on his part of the bargain. I 
thought we could go with them, if you'd like; see what Treebeard is up to."

"Yes, I'd like that." Pippin snuggled close to Merry as a cool breeze swept 
through the balcony. "And then we'll go home."

The End