Author: Nfinity Nite (darkelf_crystal@ yahoo.com)

Title: Just A Dream

Rating: NC-17 

Disclaimer: I don’t own J.R.R. Tolkien’s perfect creations. Damn! No 
money made and lots of sleep lost. Plus one job.

Paring: Merry/Pippin

Summary:  Dreams haunt the sleep, creating in the subconscious our own 
worlds away from reality. 

Warnings: Angst and (if you want to get technical) incest. Not a happy 
ending.

Archive: Sure.

Feedback: Yes Please!!! But be gentle!

Author’s Note: This was inspired by a dream that I had (don’t ask, I don’t 
even understand it myself). I guess you could call it irony at her dirtiest. 
This is only a product of my warped fragile little mind. Please don’t be 
fooled by the shortness. There is a great emotional depth sometimes in 
*short* things as well as *long* things…. HEE HEE!

Just A Dream
June, 2003

In his dreams they’re together, him and his love. They lie together in the 
moonlight counting stars and holding hands. They talk together in low 
voices, whispering words that are meant just for each other. In his dreams 
his world is perfect. 

This dream is no different. They lay together in his bed, his love smiling 
down at him as they make love together. His love is very passionate. He 
thrusts hard and deep, slow and soft, making small whimpering noises that 
no one else will ever hear. His love moans with his cresting passion, 
filling him with his essence and bringing him to the edge and over. He lies 
there, panting, as his love whispers those three sacred words. Over and 
over again.

But he knows it’s just a dream. His reality is much different. When he 
wakes, he’ll be alone and his heart will break like it does every morning. 
Ever since his love got married.

He tries to recapture the dream. He sees the two of them lying in a field, 
alone together, while the world passes by. His love kisses him and he 
tastes apples. He smiles as a small, perfect butterfly lands on his love’s 
nose briefly, then flits away. He sighs happily. A perfect dream.

Pippin opens his eyes to the cold, gray, heartless morning. He wakes to the 
empty bed, the dark room, and the constant heartache. It was a perfect 
dream. Merry was his and he loved Pippin. But it was just a dream. And 
heartache is his reality.

*    *    * 

He tossed and turned in his restless sleep. In his dream his lover was 
writhing beneath him, making low pleasure sounds in his throat as he 
pushed into his lover. As he went deeper and harder and faster his lover 
moaned deep in his throat and cried his name. Over and over.

The dream changes, shifts into a black void, hollow and empty of all life 
save himself. He is crying. His love has abandoned him for another, 
forsaking the pledge they had made to each other. He weeps from the 
deepest corners of his soul, his heart becoming a marred, black and ugly 
thing, devoid of all good feelings and filled with the deep depression of 
the heartbroken. He gasps, trying to fill his burning lungs with great 
draughts of air. He eases the burning in his lungs but not the burning in his 
heart. He realizes that, even though his love betrayed him, he still wants 
him with a consuming passion and he feels shame. Shame that his heart 
would betray him as easily as the one who broke it.

He gasps aloud and looks to the gray morning. He looks over and sees his 
wife smiling comfortably in her sleep. Every morning he wakes to her 
smiling face and every morning he wishes the blond tresses were auburn, 
the sparkling blue eyes were green, and the smile were more mischievous. 
He wishes that she were someone else. Pippin. The name, barely hovering 
on his lips, brings heartache with a tenfold force. It knocks the wind out of 
him again like a physical blow. He struggles to breath again.

 Every night Merry has the same dream. Pippin betrays him. He loves 
Merry and leaves him. In reality, it’s Merry who left Pippin. Merry who 
took Pippin’s virginity and whispered sweet words in his ear and them left 
him for a lass to make his parents happy. He sighs. He knows he should be 
happy, or at least pretend to be happy, for *her* sake. But he isn’t and he 
can’t pretend. She knows he doesn’t love her and that he never will, but 
she stays. She stays because she’s all he has left and he’s all she ever had. 

Merry lets out another long sigh. Time to get up and start pretending. Put 
on the cheery façade and convince everyone that Merry never loved 
Pippin, that he didn’t break his heart, that Pippin didn’t nearly kill himself 
from the pain. That Merry didn’t nearly died as well from the shame of 
breaking the heart of the only person he’ll ever love. Time to try to hide 
his dying soul and his black, festering heart.

Because Merry left Pippin and can never get him back. And he knows it 
and regrets.

FIN