Title: The Price 
 
Author: Anemone Frost 
 
Email: Weepingwillow987@aol.com 
 
Pairing: M/P; P/OC 
 
Rating: PG-13 (Eventually NC-17)  
 
Summary: (AU Fic, Pre-Quest) 1/? Paladin and Eglantine want marry their 
son off but want to do it for a profit. Pippin's parents begin to choose the 
best suitors for their son, and they don't care if it's a lad or lass, narrowing 
it down to Merry Brandybuck and Marroc Smallburrows. Pippin wants 
Merry, but Merry doesn't 'seem' to want Pippin. Pippin aims to make 
Merry jealous, but his plan backfires. Marroc will do just about anything 
to get what he wants, and he's intent on making Pippin his. 
 
Feedback: Yes, please. 
 
Archive: Ask first. 
 
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tolkien. 
 
 
Pippin sighed as he gazed out the window, watching the spring scenery. 
He longed to be outside, but his parents were forcing him to stay indoors. 
After all, there were suitors to entertain. It made him sick, knowing that 
his parents were practically bidding him off to the richest lass or lad. A 
shudder slid down his spine at the thought. There was only one male he 
wanted to be with. Merry.  
 
The hobbit was considerably rich and would be an ideal suitor in his 
parent's eyes. Hopefully, he would arrive soon and save him from this 
madness. That's what he loved most about Merry. He would always sweet 
talk his parents into some excuse that required Pippin to leave the hobbit 
hole. Those days or evenings were the most enjoyable moments of his life, 
but it had been nearly two months since he last saw Merry, only receiving 
letters of his whereabouts and activities. He promised to return on Pippin's 
eighteenth birthday.Unfortunately, it wouldn't be a very festive party for 
Pippin, considering this was the time his 
parents decided to 'auction' him off. He didn't understand why his parents 
were doing this. They were already considered one of the wealthiest 
families in the Shire but his father, Paladin, was greedy. He always craved 
gold and had even sold off his dear sisters Pearl, Pimpernel, and Pervinca 
to other wealthy hobbits. He was nothing more than an object to his father. 
Now, for more then three hours, he had been passed around from lass to 
lad from lad to lass, allowing each 
one to inspect him like a piece of meat. 
 
"Pippin, darling, you are needed out here!" came Eglantine's voice, 
Pippin's mother. 
 
"Coming Ma!" Pippin yelled back. 
 
She came bursting through the door anyway, vibrant and smiling down at 
her son. "Darling, you know your father will be upset if you do not hurry. 
I do not want a scene between you two. It would be most embarrassing. 
We are trying to impress a young lad out there." 
 
"Lad?" Pippin echoed, turning pale. "What of the others?" 
 
"Your father has them occupied in one of the spare rooms," Eglantine 
answered. "There is one called Marroc Smallburrows that carries the most 
money. He is a rather good choice and waiting for you in the parlor." Her 
smile grew. "It should also interest you that Merry is also waiting. Your 
dear cousin is eager to see how you've grown." She lowered her ear to his, 
whispering. "Impress him, for he is rich too. I assume you would want him 
over Marroc. Don't try to deny it. I've watched you two grow since 
childhood, and you've always had a close bond with him. Believe it or not, 
I do want you to be happy and I know that Merry would treat you with 
kindness. I hear rumors that Marroc only wants you for your beauty, and  
something to deflower." 
 
Pippin blushed furiously. "Ma, please  " 
 
"I'm only stating the truth," Eglantine shrugged. "Now get back out there 
before your father decides to punish you." 
 
Bile rose into his throat. He hated this life. He hated being an object. He 
was shoved into the parlor, spotting two hobbits each sitting on a stool. 
One was his father, and the other was relatively handsome, plump, yet not 
fat. His hair was strawberry blonde, and his eyes shimmered a bright blue. 
The blazing orb's almost reminded him of his cousin Frodo. The hobbit 
stood from his seat, and strolled to Pippin's form, slowly circling around 
the trembling hobbit, obviously gazing 
over the 'prize'. 
 
"My, you do have a beautiful son, Paladin," Marroc chuckled darkly. "I 
never thought he would blossom into such a pretty flower." 
 
"Good looks run in the family," Paladin proudly stated. 
 
"Hello, dearest Pippin," came another voice. 
 
Pippin spun around, smiling widely as his cousin Merry emerged from the 
darkness in the corner. Without thinking he ran to Merry, embracing him 
tightly despite the disgruntled growl from his father. 
 
"Merry! You came!" Pippin cried. 
 
"Yes, and how you have grown," Merry chuckled, hugging him back. "I 
wish I hadn't disappearedfor so long, but father needed a hand with the 
business and farm. I missed you, Pippin." 
 
"Ahem, that is enough of that ridiculous display Pippin!" Paladin snarled. 
"Get back over here and treat our guest with a little more respect. If you 
don't obey you'll regret it later." 
 
Pippin reluctantly moved away from Merry, and centered himself in the 
parlor. 
 
"No harm done," Marroc snickered. "Besides, Paladin, for your sake you 
better not bruise this beauty. It'll tarnish the sale." Paladin gave a weak 
laugh and rubbed at his neck. "There is something I need to know before 
deciding to purchase this delightful creature  is he a virgin?" 
 
A blush crept over Pippin's cheeks. Merry tensed at the statement, left in 
complete shock, and he turned red himself. 
 
"Yes, of course," Paladin laughed. "He's a virtuous boy. I see to that. He'll 
be a nice toy on the wedding night, if you get my drift." 
 
Laughter erupted amongst the two, but Merry was left boiling. He knew 
fully well what was taking place; he had known Pippin's purpose since 
birth. He was grateful his parents never did the same thing to him. 
 
"I do not think it is appropriate to discuss such things," Merry growled. 
 
"Ah, so you are jealous," Paladin laughed. "If you give me a reasonable 
offer, I shall allow you to purchase my son. I know you must want him. 
How could you not?" 
 
"I will do no such thing," Merry shot back. 
 
Sweat slid down on Pippin's brow, and he felt dizzy. Merry didn't want 
him. Merry didn't want him. It repeated over and over in his mind. 
 
"I will not pay for Pippin like some sort of property," Merry snorted. "It's 
disgusting! How can you do that him?! How could you do that to your 
daughters?!" 
 
"There's a profit to be had," Paladin answered. "It's all they're good for." 
 
Hope flashed in Pippin's mind. Perhaps Merry did want him after all. He 
just didn't want to pay for him. Pippin knew he had to convince Merry to 
somehow go through with it. He didn't want to end up with the other 
hobbit. He could see lust and cruelty flashing in those bright eyes. 
 
Marroc coughed, and drew back Paladin's attention. "I want to fully 
inspect him first before making any decisions." 
 
"You may strip him if you like," Paladin answered. "See for yourself. 
There is nothing wrong with him." He glowered in Merry's direction. "I 
suggest you leave the room, unless you promise not to make a spectacle. 
You knew this day would come for Pippin  so deal with it." 
 
"I'm not going anywhere!" Merry spat. 
 
"Suit yourself," Marroc snickered, stalking over to Pippin. 
 
The younger hobbit looked at him with wide eyes. The male was a great 
deal taller, and appeared quite muscular for a hobbit. Marroc's hands 
worked on the fastens of Pippin's waistcoat, exposing his pale chest. 
Pippin felt heat rise to his cheeks. He couldn't allow the hobbit to undress 
him in front of Merry. He had to do something distracting that would get 
Merry riled up to the point where he would certainly pay for him. 
 
Pippin raised to the tips of his feet and planted a kiss on Marroc's lips. The 
older hobbit was taken back in surprise, but quickly responded with 
ferocity. Pippin nearly gagged as the older hobbit's tongue invaded his 
mouth. A hand traveled down and squeezed his rump while the other 
trailed along his cleft. It was humiliating, but he could tell that it was 
upsetting Merry from the startled gasp he gave off. Pippin didn't want to 
do it, but he had to get Merry's attention somehow. 
 
Marroc chuckled as he drew away, still groping at Pippin's rear. "You 
know, Paladin, I've had a sudden change of heart. I don't need to inspect 
him right now. He seems like a fine prize." 
 
Paladin beamed, grinning from ear to ear. "Splendid! I'll just have you 
sign a contract and pay half the money up front, and then you can choose 
when to begin. Eglantine! Go to the library and retrieve the contract!" 
 
"I believe it will be sometime soon," Marroc chuckled. He eyed Merry. "I 
want this pretty creature before someone else decides to try to snatch him 
away." 
 
Paladin and Marroc exited the parlor, leaving Merry alone with Pippin. 
The younger hobbit stared at the floor, suddenly ashamed of his actions. 
The glare he received from Merry didn't help matters. 
 
"Why did you do that?" Merry asked, his voice wavering in anger. 
 
"What did you expect me to do?" Pippin sighed. "I didn't want him to strip 
me, so I tried to distract him the only way I knew how." He gazed up, eyes 
starting to water. "It's not like I want him Merry. There's someone else that 
I would prefer." 
 
Merry snorted. "A shame then. I think I will be staying at the local inn, 
The Red Dragon, instead of here." 
 
"Oh, Merry, don't go!" Pippin cried. 
 
"I'll be back, Pippin," Merry replied, heading quickly to the door. "I just 
need time to settle in." 
 
Pippin could tell that his cousin was hurt. His eyes were turning puffy and 
gleamed from the rising tears. Sadness crept over Pippin's mind. Maybe 
Merry didn't think he was worth all that money. He hung his head, turning 
away as his cousin rode off on the trail. There would be another chance to 
talk. Now, he had to deal with Marroc.

*

"Pippin, go and wait outside!" Paladin called. "Marroc will be 
accompanying you to his house." 
 
The hobbit shivered and stepped outside into the warm air. He despised 
the idea of being alone with Marroc but there was nothing else he could 
do. If he refused his father would give him a sound beating, which wasn't 
unusual for Pippin. The most contact he had with his father was with the 
back of the other hobbit's hand. He jerked in fright as a hard hand clasped 
his shoulder. 
 
"Well, it's time to be off," Marroc chirped. "I'm certain that you'll find my 
home most admirable. You'll be happy there for the entire weekend." 
 
"What?" Pippin choked. "I thought I was just going to spend the day with 
you." 
 
"No, darling, you'll be spending far more time with me than that," Marroc 
chuckled. 
 
Pippin grimaced at the idea. Being alone with him for several hours was 
one thing, but staying for two days? It made him uncomfortable, and he 
tensed as he was led to the pony. There was no telling what Marroc would 
do to him in that amount of time. Pippin gasped as Marroc lifted him off 
his feet and swung him up onto the steed. Marroc quickly mounted behind 
him, pulling Pippin snugly against his chest. The hobbit placed a light kiss 
on Pippin's neck, making the younger hobbit cringe 
 
"Don't be shy, my jewel," Marroc snickered, lowering his hand to caress 
Pippin's thigh. 
 
"Please, don't touch me like that," Pippin whimpered, pushing the hand 
away. 
 
"Come now, why the sudden change?" Marroc asked. "Once inside you 
kissed me  ah, I see. You were attempting to make that other hobbit 
jealous. Sly creature." He let out a low laugh. "You might as well give up. 
You're going to be mine, not his." 
 
Pippin choked back a sob. 
 
Marroc leaned closer, sniffing at Pippin's curls. "You smell of lavender." 
 
Pippin bit on his bottom lip, becoming stiff in the saddle. He could feel 
something hard being dug into his bottom. 
 
"Maybe we could stop a bit later," Marroc murmured. "My dwelling is far 
off, and we could use some quiet personal time together. I know the 
perfect little grove ahead. It's very lovely and secluded." 
 
Tears began to brim in Pippin's eyes, but he fought them back, despite his 
petrified state. He wished Merry was around to protect him. 
 
Time passed, and Marroc drew the pony over to the side. He dismounted, 
tied the reins to a tree, and urged Pippin off, lowering the hobbit to the 
ground by gripping his hips. Pippin trembled as he was suddenly swooped 
up and carried into the wooded area. Sweat was starting to trickle down 
his brow, and his heart was pounding furiously, causing his head to throb 
in agony. He wanted to squirm, to scream, to run away, but there was no 
one around that would help him. He 
was trapped. 
 
Marroc laid him on the grass, and smirked. "I never got the chance to 
inspect you fully. Take your clothes off." 
 
"What?" Pippin whimpered. 
 
"You heard me," Marroc replied. "Now, take your clothes off." 
 
Pippin was hesitant. If he complied, then he knew Marroc would take him 
then and there. The hobbit's eyes were glazed over with lust, and the bulge 
in his pants was eminent. If he didn't comply, Marroc would probably just 
take him against his will. The thought of being raped made his bottom 
ache and caused nausea to swim in his gut. 
 
"Please, I don't want.... " Pippin began. 
 
The hobbit was cut off as Marroc flung himself upon him, crushing Pippin 
under his massive weight. A bruising kiss was forced on his tender lips, 
making him groan in pain at the abusive force. Marroc's covered erection 
was grinding painfully into his thigh. 
 
"You're such a lovely creature," Marroc groaned, thrusting savagely 
against Pippin's pelvis. "I simply can't wait another moment. I must have 
you now." 
 
Pippin clenched his eyes shut as the older hobbit tugged at his trousers. 
Then, the weight was off him, and a sharp cry echoed in the woods. 
Pippin's eyes shot backopen, and he sat up, gasping in surprise. Marroc 
was a few inches from him, rubbing at his bruised jaw, gazing up at his 
attacker, Merry. The hobbit's fist was clenched, and his breathing was 
ragged. 
 
"If I ever catch you touching my cousin in such a manner again I swear 
that I will kill you!" Merry spat venomously.  
 
"You have no right to be giving me threats!" Marroc shot back. "I paid for 
him! I can do what I want!" 
 
Merry reached for his belt and flung a pouch at Marroc's feet. "There! 
Here's reimbursement! Now be off!" 
 
"How would you know the amount I paid?" Marroc inquired. 
 
"I heard it all through the library," Merry snarled. "I never left the area, I 
just made it look that way so I could trail after you, and it seems I did right 
to do so. Tell me, did that contract give you the right to molest him?" 
 
Marroc's face flushed. "Paladin does not care what happens to his son as 
long as he is paid! You had no right to interfere!" 
 
"I had every right!" Merry growled. "Get out of here before I take my 
dagger to your gut!" 
 
Merry spun around, facing Pippin. The younger hobbit tried to voice a 
warning but Marroc had lightening speed. He grasped Merry by the hair, 
slamming his head into a nearby tree before he was violently whipped 
back around. Wrapping his hands around Merry's neck, Marroc began to 
squeeze, causing the other hobbit to gasp for air. Merry fought against the 
other hobbit but he seemed far too strong to pry off. Pippin sprang to his 
feet, yanking desperately on Marroc's arms.  
 
"Please, do not hurt him!" Pippin begged. 
 
Marroc tilted his head, gazing over Pippin intently. A smile grew and he 
released Merry, allowing the hobbit to crumble to the ground while 
panting for air. 
 
"Anything for you, my jewel," Marroc beamed. He glared back down at 
Merry, his face contorted in rage. "If you ever do something like that 
again, then I will kill you, and I will do it slowly. I don't like you much, 
Meriadoc Brandybuck. Then again, I don't like anyone that tries to steal 
my possessions." He stalked off, crouching to pick up the pouch of coins. 
"I will grant you time with Pippin, though I'm sure his father will throw a 
fit over it. Enjoy it. I can guarantee that this will be 
the last day you two will spend time together." 
 
"Not if I have anything to do about it," Merry snarled.  
 
"So, you do want him for yourself?" Marroc inquired, raising an eyebrow. 
 
Merry looked away, unable to answer. 
 
"You fight so hard for him, yet you won't even try to buy him," Marroc 
laughed. 
 
Merry glowered. "Pippin is not a toy." 
 
"On the contrary, dear hobbit," Marroc snickered, "he is nothing more than 
a toy to be used until he's worn out or damaged, and then tossed aside in 
the trash. When I grow weary of him, I can sell him to whoever. Perhaps 
you could come by then, and make an offer, though I doubt you would 
take him. I can tell, you only want him for the same reason I do." 
 
"That's not true!" Merry snapped. 
 
"Hm, you're not a very good liar," Marroc sighed, winking at Pippin. "Go 
ahead, and take him home. I'll be back later tonight for him, though I must 
warn you Merry  I won't be coming alone. I suggest you control yourself 
or I can have you subdued by my companions." He turned to leave but 
stopped. "You know, I am a generous hobbit, and you do seem to have 
some wealth. I could give you a shot at fucking him, for the right price. Of 
course, it will be I that claims his innocence." 
 
Merry bolted from the ground, cursing, raising up his fist to ram into 
Marroc's face. The other hobbit ducked as Merry swung at him, and shot 
his fist upwards, coming into contact with Merry's nose. A loud pop 
echoed in the air, and blood began to dribble from Merry's nostrils. The 
hobbit fell roughly to the ground, clutching at his throbbing, bleeding 
nose. 
 
"You're really not much of a fighter," Marroc chuckled darkly. He 
crouched next to Pippin and kissed him softly. "I will see you tonight, my 
jewel." 
 
Pippin felt flustered, dizzy, and he all wanted to do was return home 
alongside Merry.

*

Merry groaned in pain as Pippin eased his trembling form up. The younger 
hobbit reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, pressing it 
against Merry's seeping nose. Merry grunted at the contact and replaced 
Pippin's hand with his own over the cloth. Averting his gaze, Pippin began 
to head back to the trail with Merry slowly lugging after him. 
 
"Thank you, for stopping him," Pippin murmured. 
 
"Well, it's obvious I didn't do a very good job of it," Merry sighed in 
disgust. 
 
"Don't say that Merry," Pippin whimpered, surprised by his cousin's 
comment. "You kept him from  harming me. I'm in your debt." 
 
"No, you're not," Merry replied. 
 
Merry felt a blush creep across his face. He remembered crouching in the 
brush, watching as Marroc lowered Pippin in the grove. He had sat there, 
and watched as the hobbit demanded his cousin to remove his clothing; he 
had sat there, and heard Marroc threaten Pippin. Shame crept over Merry's 
mind. A part of him, at the time, enjoyed seeing Pippin writhe in terror of 
what was to come. He was still enraged over Pippin's previous actions, 
kissing Marroc right in front of him and Paladin. It had revolted him to the 
point that he felt like retching, but now he realized that it wasn't Pippin's 
fault. The younger hobbit was only doing what he thought was best. Merry 
regretted allowing Marroc to speak those harsh, vile words. Pippin hadn't 
deserved it. He wouldn't let it happen again.  
 
"Pippin, I'm sorry about what took place between us earlier today," Merry 
stated, moving closer to his cousin's side. 
 
"There's nothing to apologize for," Pippin answered, his voice low and 
hollow. "It's obvious that you do not want me." 
 
A startled cry came from Pippin, but it was quickly swallowed as Merry 
kissed him. Pippin moaned, wrapping his arm's around the older hobbit's 
neck, deepening the soft, gentle kiss. Merry pulled back, and gazed into 
Pippin's green orbs. Pippin licked his lips, tasting the coppery liquid that 
had smeared on. 
 
"I do want you, more than anything," Merry murmured, "but I don't want 
to buy you like you're a piece of property. Pip, why do you put up with it? 
I never understood that. You can leave, can't you?" 
 
Pippin looked away, eyes brimming with dampness. "Since I haven't come 
of age yet, I can't leave the house to go out on my own. That's why they're 
getting rid of me now, while I'm still under their control so they can earn a 
profit. Believe me, Merry, I have tried running away many times. I even 
ran to your home for protection but you turned me away." Merry cringed 
at the memory. "When I did that, Da tied me to a bed and beat me with a 
strap for three days. He told me if I ever pulled a stunt like that again, 
he'd.....he'd....."  
 
"You don't have to say it," Merry soothed, stroking Pippin's back. "I was a 
foolish tween when you came knocking at my door that day. My father 
convinced me that you had to go back home for your own good. If I had 
known that was going to happen I would have never done it. Forgive me  " 
 
"No, it was not your fault," Pippin interrupted. He choked as a sob rose in 
his throat. "I may as well face it. I'm only an object that will bring in a 
great deal of gold for my parents. I suppose it's all I'm good for." 
 
"Don't say that!" Merry snarled, shaking his cousin's shoulders roughly. 
"You are a kind, beautiful hobbit! Not a lifeless object that's to be passed 
around for others amusement!" His gaze gentled, and he caressed Pippin's 
cheek. "I love you so much Pippin." 
 
"Do you?" Pippin snorted, jerking out of his cousin's grip. "Are you sure 
it's love or is it just lust?" 
 
Merry grasped Pippin's arm and gently pulled him back. "Pippin, I have 
loved you ever since we were children. You are the only one I want to 
spend the rest of my life with." He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. 
"I won't lie, though. For some time I have craved to make you my own." 
 
"You sound just like Marroc," Pippin whispered. 
 
Merry's face became wrung with anguish. "How can you compare me to 
him? I would never hurt you. I love you." He pulled Pippin into a crushing 
embrace. "I don't want to lose you to him because I know all the misery he 
would put you through. I can't allow that to happen. If you desire, I will 
make an offer to Paladin. I don't like the idea, but I can't let you fall into 
Marroc's filthy hands." 
 
A wide smile grew on Pippin's face, and he rained kisses all over Merry's 
face, murmuring an apology when he touched the broken nose. "Do you 
mean it Merry?! Oh, I love you too! I'm sorry for the way I behaved! I 
should have never tried to make you jealous! It was wrong of me! I'm 
sorry! Oh, I love you!" 
 
Merry chuckled, nipping at Pippin's trembling lips. "My wonderful Took, 
you did nothing wrong. You were frightened and were only trying to get 
my attention, which worked very well." Pippin giggled. "Come, let's return 
to your home so I can negotiate with your father. I want things to get 
settled before Marroc comes and creates trouble." 
 
The two hobbits took off down the trail, heading back to the Took home. 
Soon, they were entering the hobbit hole, and they received twin stares of 
shock from Paladin and Eglantine. 
 
"Merry, darling, your nose," Eglantine muttered. "Come here, and I can 
clean-" 
 
She became silent as Paladin shot her an infuriated glance. He shot out of 
the chair, storming over to Pippin, who began to cower in terror. 
 
"What are you doing here?!" Paladin roared. "I swear if you ran from 
Marroc I'll..." 
 
Merry stepped in between the two, violently shoving Paladin to the floor. 
"He did no such thing. I was in a fight with Marroc, and he allowed me to 
take him home. I want Pippin." 
 
Paladin snorted. "Why should I care?" 
 
"You care for gold, don't you?" Merry asked, revolt echoing in his voice. 
"Whatever offer Marroc made you I can do better." 
 
Paladin's eyes widened, and he rubbed his chin, thinking intently. "He 
offered five hundred gold coins." 
 
"Then I will pay you one thousand," Merry answered. "Do we have a 
deal?" 
 
Paladin rose from the ground, and moved over to the desk, rummaging 
through the drawer. He pulled out a parchment, and handed it over to 
Merry. 
 
"This a binding legal document," Paladin grumbled. "It gives you full 
ownership of Pippin. The brat is  yours now." 
 
"And the deal with Marroc?" Merry inquired, raising an eyebrow. 
 
"Consider it off," Paladin laughed. "You made the better deal."  
 
"Excellent," Merry smirked. He reached to his belt and pulled out a pouch. 
"Here's five hundred down payment. You'll get the rest later." 
 
Paladin eagerly grabbed the pouch. Merry placed the document in Pippin's 
hand and whipped around, ramming his fist into Paladin's mouth. The 
hobbit grunted as his head was slammed back from the force of the violent 
hit, and he collapsed roughly to the ground. Eglantine gave high pitched 
shriek before rushing to her husband's side, cradling his limp form while 
she rubbed at the blood trickling from the side of his mouth. 
 
"Well, looks like we're done here," Merry snickered. "Come Pip. I believe 
it is time for us to wed. Are you sure you want me for life?" 
 
Pippin gave a warm smile. "There's no one else that I want, Merry. I want 
to be by your side until the end of our days. I love you so." 
 
The two walked out hand in hand. Paladin rubbed at his face and sat back 
up, glaring in Merry's direction. 
 
"Send a message to Marroc," Paladin snarled. "Tell him that Merry is 
taking 'his' prize back to Buckland and intends to marry him." 
 
"But dear, you gave Pippin to  " Eglantine began. 
 
"The document is a fake!" Paladin interrupted. "The real one is still in the 
library. Did you actually think I would hand Pippin over to that rotten 
Brandybuck?! I was just trying to cheat him out of some money! He 
doesn't own Pippin! I still do, and by the end of this day he will belong to 
Marroc Smallburrows!"

*

A smile of content spread over Pippin's face as he nuzzled against Merry's 
back. He didn't know how long they had been riding, but it didn't matter. 
He was finally safe in his love's arms. Merry raised his hand to tug at 
Pippin's collar, exposing the younger hobbit's pale skin. A giggle rose in 
Pippin's throat as Merry suckled his neck; the warm suction was tickling 
his sensitive skin. 
 
"You shouldn't do that, Merry," Pippin moaned. "We  ah  should really 
save this for tonight." 
 
Merry continued his assault on his cousin's ticklish neck. Pippin tasted 
sweet, and smelled sweet; well, everything about him was sweet. 
Groaning in frustration, Merry relinquished his hold. He wanted to do 
more than just kiss Pippin. 
 
"I want you so much  it's so hard to resist," Merry murmured into Pippin's 
ear. 
 
"I want you too," Pippin replied, tilting his head to plant a kiss on Merry's 
cheek. "I  I love you." 
 
Merry kissed Pippin's head, savoring the feeling of the soft curls tickling 
his face. "Ah, I can't wait 
to spend the rest of my life with you." 
 
"Aye," Pippin giggled. "I look forward to waking up to your face every 
morning, Merry. You're so handsome. I long to be held in your gentle, 
warm arms as well." 
 
Merry laughed. "Sweet Pippin." 
 
"Aw, look at the lovebirds!" came a voice. 
 
Merry was forced to halt as five other steeds, carrying hobbits in dark 
cloaks, emerged onto the path from the woods. The five stared at the two, 
grinning menacingly. Pippin tensed in the saddle, griping at Merry's arms 
in fear. The hobbit above him was trembling, and Pippin could see his face 
tightening in rage. 
 
"Let us pass," Merry snarled, trying to keep his voice calm. 
 
"I'm `fraid we can't do that," one of the hobbits chuckled. "You see, we 
have orders from Mr. Smallburrows to take back what is rightfully his." 
 
"Pippin does not belong to him!" Merry snapped. 
 
"Oh, but he does," Marroc laughed, trotting up the path. He stopped a few 
inches from Merry's pony, grinning at Pippin's pallid face. "Paladin was 
kind enough to tell me where you were heading off to, and I felt that I 
should catch up with you at once to inform you about that contract. The 
real one is in my hands." He reached into his cloak, and drew out a 
document bearing a red seal at the bottom of the page. "You see that? It 
makes the contract official, and yours is a fraud. Exactly how stupid are 
you, Merry? I mean, did you not bother to check for an official seal for 
goodness sake?" 
 
Merry's heart reverberated inside his skull, and his cheeks flushed as sweat 
formed on his brow. He was an idiot. He knew that Paladin was 
treacherous. How could he have forgotten to check for the seal? 
 
"I won't allow you to take him," Merry spat, his voice bitter. He drew out 
his dagger. "I will fight 
you all to the death." 
 
Marroc laughed. "Please! You couldn't stand a chance against all of us! 
Besides, that would put dear little Pippin in danger, and you know it. You 
wouldn't risk his ife would you?" 
 
Merry sighed, and urged Pippin off the saddle. The younger hobbit was 
reluctant, but he slowly slid off. Pippin suddenly bolted between the 
ponies, despite his cousin's cry to get back. Pippin went to Marroc's pony, 
gazing up at him with a pleading look. 
 
"If I go with you, without a fight, will you leave Merry alone?" Pippin 
asked. 
 
Marroc smiled triumphantly. "If you do that, then I guarantee that I won't 
kill him." 
 
"Pippin, no!" Merry cried. 
 
"There's no other choice, Merry," Pippin choked, blinking back tears. "I 
don't want you to get killed. I couldn't bear it." 
 
Merry cursed, but sheathed his dagger. He would have to find another way 
to free his cousin. 
 
"Very good," Marroc chuckled. Merry caught a sadistic tint shimmering in 
the blue orbs, and it made him uneasy. "Boys, you know what to do." 
 
Merry's eyes widened, and he scrambled to unsheathe his sword. A 
startled yelp passed his lips as two other riders stormed out of the brush, 
knocking him off the pony. Pippin cried out in terror, and attempted to flee 
to his cousin's side, but one of Marroc's ruffians grabbed him by the collar, 
and threw him roughly to the ground. The wind was knocked out him, 
leaving him in a dizzy state on the forest floor. Merry snarled in rage, 
struggling to get back to his feet, but he was tackled by three of the 
hobbits. Others jumped down from their ponies, helping the other three 
subdue the flaying hobbit. A violent punch was delivered to Merry's 
stomach, making him grunt and slump in agony. One of the ruffians 
grasped Pippin by the waist as he attempted to scamper off to his cousin. 
 
"What's wrong, beauty?" the hobbit leered. "Don't like seeing that scum 
get his deserved punishment?" 
 
Pippin squeaked as he felt a hot tongue sliding down his cheek. He felt 
disgusted, on the verge of vomiting. The weight of his captor was 
suddenly gone, though. The younger hobbit spun around, cringing as he 
saw Marroc slide his dagger over the hobbit's throat. A gurgling sound 
emitted from the hobbit's throat as blood spurted from the long cut, going 
from ear to ear. The red liquid was soon trickling from his mouth as the 
hobbit finally doubled over in death. Marroc shook the 
dagger, splaying red droplets onto the ground. The remaining six were 
staring; their faces were contorted in fear. 
 
"Let that be a lesson to all of you," Marroc barked. "No one but me may 
touch him intimately." He smirked at Merry, who was thrashing to free 
himself from the other hobbits. "Pitiful hobbit." 
 
Pippin crept toward Marroc, kneeling at the other hobbit's feet. "Please, 
you told me you would not kill him. I beg of you don't hurt him." 
 
Marroc extended his palm, rubbing it gently across Pippin's crimson 
cheek. "I have no intention of killing him. In fact, I want to give him a 
little show. A show of something he will never be able to do with you." 
 
Pippin's eyes narrowed in confusion, but Merry caught on quickly. "Don't 
you dare! You bastard! Don't....." 
 
Another savage blow to his abdomen silenced him. 
 
Pippin glanced up into Marroc's glazed eyes, finally catching on. He shook 
his head, tears streaming down, slowly backing away. "No. Please. No." 
 
Marroc's wicked grin only widened as he pounced on Pippin, pinning him 
to the dirt path. Pippin cried out, and flayed madly, trying to buck the 
older hobbit off of him. Marroc was too strong, and he easily kept Pippin 
under control with his weight. 
 
"Four of you get over here," Marroc snickered. "Two hold his arms down, 
and two keep control of his legs. I don't want him kicking me." 
 
The four hobbits rushed to Marroc's side, leaving two to keep hold of 
Merry. Pippin wept as his hands were gripped tightly, and legs lifted, 
giving Marroc the chance to unlace Pippin's trousers and pull them down, 
exposing his buttocks and cock. 
 
"My, you really are a gem, ripe for the taking," Marroc murmured, 
ignoring the vile curses that Merry was shouting at him. 
 
Two of the hobbit's kept Pippin's legs apart, allowing Marroc to lie 
between them as he unlaced his pants, freeing his engorged member. 
Pippin grimaced at the sight of it. It was fairly large, leaking from the slit, 
and he didn't understand how such a big thing was going to fit inside his 
body without tearing him apart. He whimpered as the older hobbit forced 
his hips up, rubbing his erection against Pippin's tight opening. 
 
"I could take you now, but I want to save that for later," Marroc stated, 
grinding harder. "Though it's very hard to resist." He let Pippin's hips go, 
and knelt before the younger hobbit's cock. "I wonder what noises I can 
elicit from you." 
 
Pippin screamed as Marroc swallowed his member, surrounding him in a 
wet, pleasurable heat. He shook his head in denial. Despite his fear and 
hatred of the hobbit, his body was responding, and he could feel himself 
growing hard. 
 
"Oh, Merry, I'm sorry!" Pippin whined, keeping his gaze away from his 
cousin. "I can't help it!" 
 
"No apologies Pip!" Merry replied, a sob rising his throat. "It's not your 
fault! Remember, Pip, that I love you! I'll always love you!" 
 
Marroc relinquished Pippin's member, which now stood on its own, 
slowly kissing a trail up Pippin's belly until he reached the younger 
hobbit's face. Pippin's eyes were puffy and bloodshot from the tears that 
dribbled down. His bottom lip was quivering, and his eyes silently pleaded 
with Marroc to stop, which the hobbit disavowed. 
 
"Don't....hurt me....please," Pippin stuttered. 
 
Marroc snorted, appearing surprised. "My precious jewel, I would never 
hurt you. However, I will claim your virginity later tonight, so you might 
as well stop begging me not to." He pressed his member against Pippin's, 
creating a rough friction that made the younger hobbit grit his teeth. "Ah, 
that feels so good. I almost feel sorry for you Merry, seeing as to how you 
will never experience this delightful creature. It seems he doesn't need you 
to get hard after all. Anyone's 
touch can just about do it. He could almost be considered a harlot." 
 
"I'll make you pay for this you bastard!" Merry roared, fighting harder 
against the other two hobbits. 
 
"Don't make promises you can't keep!" Marroc laughed, amused as the 
two punched Merry in the back. 
 
Marroc's thrusts grew more frenzied, and Pippin found himself being 
bounced upwards as the four fought to maintain their grip. The harsh force 
caused an unbearable pressure to build within his cock. Pippin hated it. He 
only wanted to experience this with Merry, but it seemed matters had 
turned out differently. The fight to gain control over his body had failed. 
His orgasm approached quickly. 
 
"I want to hear you scream my name, my jewel," Marroc groaned, goading 
his hips even faster. "Say it. Say it or I'll have your love gutted alive!" 
 
Pippin sobbed. "Ma...Ma.... " The ecstasy mounted, making his entire 
form shake ferociously. "Oh no....oh....Ma... Ma.... " 
 
"Ah, that's it," Marroc urged. "Come on; say it. I know you're enjoying 
this." 
 
Pippin clenched his eyes shut, giving a queening wail as his seed exploded 
from his throbbing member. "Merry!" 
 
Marroc ceased his thrusts, gapping in shock at the name that coursed 
through Pippin's lips. Merry smiled weakly, and blinked back tears. Pippin 
opened his eyes, petrified at what he saw. Marroc's face was crimson, and 
his teeth were bared in a vicious snarl. 
 
"You dare to say his name when I am the one giving you pleasure!" 
Marroc shouted. He shoved the other hobbits away from Pippin, keeping 
the younger hobbit under control by snaring his fingers in the soft, 
cinnamon curls. Pippin glanced up at him in terror. "You'll pay for that 
later but right now I think it's time you give me a little more delight." 
 
Pippin closed his eyes tightly, nearly retching as he felt the older hobbit's 
erect member press against his lips. 
 
"Take it in your mouth or I'll have the others slowly dismember Merry 
while you are forced to watch," Marroc spoke angrily. "Bite me, and I'll 
make things even worse." 
 
"Pippin don't!" Merry cried. He didn't want his cousin suffering like this 
just to keep him alive. "Let him kill me! It's not worth  " 
 
"Someone shut him up!" Marroc barked. 
 
Merry yelled in protest as one of the hobbits shoved a cloth into his 
mouth, drowning out all words. He could only watch helplessly as his 
cousin complied with Marroc. 
 
Pippin nodded his head weakly, and submissively parted his lips, allowing 
Marroc's cock to slid in. He gagged as it hit the back of his throat, but 
quickly relaxed, fearful that he would accidentally nick Marroc with his 
teeth. Marroc tugged mercilessly at the younger hobbit's hair, causing him 
to pick up the pace. Pippin swirled his tongue along the hard length as he 
bobbed up and down, 
grimacing at the bitter taste starting to leak out. He prayed that Marroc 
would come soon, so he could get this over with. He felt so humiliated 
having to perform this act in front of Merry. The temptation to break down 
in sobs was overwhelming, but it was going to be hard to do with Marroc's 
cock thrusting inand out of his mouth. The length was starting to pulse. 
 
"Hm, wonderful," Marroc sighed in content, tilting his head back. He 
turned to gloat at Merry. "Enjoying the sight?" 
 
Merry gave a muffled shout, and once more tried to struggle free, fighting 
viciously. However, he still couldn't break free from the two hobbits 
keeping him in place. Rage was swelling inside his head, and all he 
wanted to do was to tear Marroc limb from limb. He couldn't believe this 
was happening to his dear Pippin, and cringed at the torment he must have 
been suffering. 
 
Marroc gave a sharp cry as climaxed, spurting his seed into Pippin's 
mouth. He pulled out a bit, causing some of the semen to splatter onto 
Pippin's cheek. The salty fluid made Pippin nauseous, and he wanted to 
hack it out of his mouth, but he knew better. He swallowed the bitter seed, 
though he choked in the process. Pippin raised his hand to wipe the white, 
sticky fluid off his face, but Marroc grasped his hand and shoved it away. 
 
"Get dressed," Marroc said gruffly, "and head over to the pony." 
 
Pippin wept as he scrambled for his pants, yanking them back on, averting 
the amused stares and snickers of the other hobbits. His vision was blurry, 
and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out. Marroc followed 
closely. Pippin reached out to his cousin, muttering an apology. Merry 
shook his head, also reaching out to touch Pippin's hand. Marroc pushed 
Pippin roughly, keeping them from making contact. 
 
"Let me go to him, please, at least for a moment," Pippin pleaded. 
 
Marroc sneered, but nodded his head. "Fine, go ahead. You'll learn soon 
enough that I'm not entirely cruel and heartless." 
 
Pippin bounded to Merry's side, embracing him tightly. Merry longed to 
hold him back, but the hobbits were still restraining his arms, so all he 
could do was relish the embrace. Pippin was weeping uncontrollably, and 
clutching at Merry desperately. The older hobbit wanted to voice soothing 
words, to tell Pippin it wasn't his fault and that he couldn't prevent what 
had happened. More than anything, he wanted to clean that damn semen 
off his love's face. It revolted him. 
 
"Alright, that's enough," Marroc grunted in disgust. 
 
Marroc tore Pippin away from Merry, and hauled him over to the pony, 
forcing him up on the saddle. Marroc rose up behind him. 
 
"Do as you wish, boys," Marroc leered. 
 
"What?!" Pippin wailed. "You promised you wouldn't kill him!" 
 
"That's right," Marroc replied. "I promised that I wouldn't kill him. They're 
just going to play with him for a bit. Although I hate admitting it, he is 
quite beautiful himself. I'm sure he'll make a good lay. Who knows, he 
may end up killing himself after they're done with him." He spun his head, 
glaring at the other hobbits. "Three of you come with me, the other three 
of you can do what you want. I care not." 
 
Marroc let out a dark laugh as he whipped the reins, making the pony trot 
down the trail. Pippin tossed and kicked to jump out of the saddle, but was 
held firmly in place. Merry watched in terror as Pippin slowly disappeared 
from his sight. He had to save Pippin from Marroc, but he had to save 
himself first. Unfortunately, there were three hobbits he would have to 
fight off. 
 
One of the hobbits leered down at him. "Let's get his trousers off."

*

Merry grimaced as one of the hobbits tugged at his pants, yanking them 
down to pool around his feet. A cool breeze grazed across his exposed 
bottom, making him blush. One of the hobbits tangled his fingers in 
Merry's curls, forcing his head back to place a harsh, bruising kiss on 
Merry's lips. The hobbit was instantly enraged and sank his teeth into the 
soft lips. The other hobbit howled in agony and tumbled back, gripping at 
his wounded lip. Dark blood was starting to ooze 
out from the bite wound. 
 
"You'll suffer for that!" the hobbit snapped. "Get him on his hands and 
knees!" 
 
A growl of frustration came from Merry as the two hobbits forced him to 
the ground. The third hobbit lowered himself as well, covering the Merry's 
back with his chest while lacing his fingers with Merry's. The hobbit 
began to grind his hips into Merry's buttocks. Merry cried out in revulsion 
and scrambled to get away from the hobbit about to pierce him. 
 
"You shouldn't struggle or you're going to make it a lot worse," the hobbit 
snickered, making the other two laugh. "After I'm finished with you, these 
two will have a go with you. You're going to be torn and bleeding when 
we're finished." 
 
A frightened whimper came from Merry as he felt the hobbit's arousal 
against him. He cried out in misery as it pushed in. His breathing had gone 
ragged as spasms of pain coursed into his body. His muscles clamped shut, 
preventing the hobbit from sliding further in. The hobbit above him 
grunted, infuriated that he was meeting resistance, and drew back a bit, 
ready to slam it in. Merry braced himself for the oncoming pain. His 
thoughts raced to Pippin. He couldn't believe that the 
same fate would soon befall the sweet, innocent Took. 
 
"Release him at once!" came an order. 
 
Merry glanced up, his eyes widening in shock. There was his cousin 
Frodo, drawing out his blade as Sam pulled up alongside him. He knew 
that Frodo was to be present for Pippin's birthday, but he was supposed to 
arrive later in the evening. Merry wasn't complaining, though. For once he 
was grateful for his cousin's early arrival. 
 
"You heard what he said!" Sam snarled. "Get off Mr. Merry, or I'll drive 
this blade into your gut!" 
 
The hobbit above Merry trembled and quickly stumbled back, making 
Merry hiss at the rough withdraw. His passage was sore, even if he hadn't 
been fully penetrated. He was tempted to spin around and slice through the 
three, but he could guess that they had all ready darted off to the coverage 
of the woods. Revenge on them could come later; there were more 
important matters to be dealt with. 
 
Frodo and Sam dismounted, rushing to Merry's side as he pulled his 
trousers back up. 
 
"Are you all right?" Frodo inquired. 
 
"Yes, thanks to you two," Merry sighed, smiling faintly. "Things would 
have been much worse if you hadn't shown up. By the way, how did you 
come upon this rail? I thought you two were only heading to Paladin's for 
Pippin's birthday." 
 
Frodo scowled. "I decided to come a bit early, since I thought it would be 
a nice surprise for Pippin. However, he was long gone by the time Sam 
and I came. Paladin wasn't very helpful in giving information, and he 
threw us out, telling us to come back later." 
 
"We have Mrs. Eglantine to be thankful for," Sam grumbled. "She came to 
us behind that wicked hobbit's back and told us everything. At least she's 
got some good in her." He bowed his head. "Terrible thing Pippin is being 
put through. Oh, I'd like to take that Paladin out behind that hobbit hole 
and give him a good beating. No offense Mr. Frodo and Mr. Merry." 
 
Frodo shook his head. "None taken Sam. Merry and I both know what a 
low life he is. It's such a shame that we're related to the vermin. I would 
like to do a lot more than beat him. Poor Pippin. How could such a nice 
lad be born into such a wretched family?" 
 
"It'll become an even bigger nightmare for Pippin if we don't get him away 
from Marroc," Merry answered, rising up from the ground. He wavered, 
his body still shaking from the previous attack. Pain was still swelling 
around his nose, and there was a terrible ache in his belly, back, and rear. 
"Oh....." 
 
Frodo caught his arm, keeping him upright. "Are you certain you are well? 
You look awfully pale, and what happened to your nose?" 
 
"It's a long story," Merry groaned. "I'll fill you in once we start riding. I 
have to reach Pippin." 
 
* 
 
Pippin moaned as he slowly woke from darkness. He remembered being 
roughly carried off the pony into Marroc's dwelling. There were three 
other hobbits present, and they aided Marroc in hauling him into the 
bedroom. Marroc's evil grin was still strong in his memory. It only seemed 
to grow as he recalled begging 
and screaming for Marroc to let him go as he was tied to the bed. Then, an 
odd smelling cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose before all became 
dark. 
 
The young hobbit jerked at his hands but found they were still bound by 
rope. A shiver coursed through his body. Pippin glanced down, instantly 
becoming mortified when he saw that he was naked. Whimpering, he 
yanked fiercely at the bindings, hoping to free himself. After a while he 
gave up in frustration, glaring at the room around him.  
 
In the previous frenzy, he hadn't the time to look over the furnishings of 
the rich hobbit. The room was large, bearing a fireplace toward the right of 
the wooden four post bed. Flames were already crackling in the hearth, 
and the window was shut with a curtain pulled over it, making the fire's 
shadow dance on the wall. Pippin's breath hitched as the green door slid 
open. 
 
"Ah, so glad to see you awake, my jewel," Marroc murmured. He was 
dressed in a dark robe, and his blue eyes glimmered in the firelight. "Now, 
we can begin our wedding night." 
 
Pippin grumbled. "We're not married, and it's still daylight. I can see the 
light from the crack of the curtain. I know you couldn't have had me out 
for that long." 
 
Marroc shrugged. "True, true. I hope you don't begrudge me knocking you 
out. You were making things far too difficult, and I wanted to get your 
clothes off without getting a fist to the face." 
 
Marroc climbed onto the bed, causing Pippin's body to quake in terror. He 
locked his legs together, hoping to deny Marroc access. Marroc grinned 
sheepishly and undid the sash of his robe. It slid off his shoulders, and he 
tossed it lazily to the floor. Pippin gasped at the sight. The hobbit before 
him was well shaped, his chest and arms a tad bit more muscular than a 
normal hobbit. His belly was a bit plump, yet he was somewhat on the thin 
side according to hobbit 
standards. Marroc's blond hair gleamed red from the light, and his smile 
was seductive, almost comforting. He was attractive, and Pippin clenched 
his eyes shut in shame. He was partially attracted to the older hobbit, 
despite all the horrid things he was placing on him. Then, his thoughts 
turned back to Merry. His precious Merry. He was far more beautiful than 
this creature before him, and more gentle, and kind. Tears came to his eyes 
at the thought of his love being 
ravished by the ruffians. Any attraction toward Marroc was suddenly 
gone. Pippin only felt animosity toward the older hobbit hovering over 
him. He could make out Marroc's arousal, and he suddenly felt queasy. 
 
Marroc easily pried his legs apart, his strength far superior to Pippin's, and 
he knelt between them. He reached toward the night stand and drew out a 
small phial. 
 
"What's that?" Pippin whimpered. 
 
"It's oil, my jewel," Marroc grinned. "It would make things a lot less 
painful for you. I would gladly use it, if you will kiss me. If you don't, I'll 
take you without preparation, and that would be extremely painful." 
 
Pippin grimaced but nodded nonetheless. Marroc bent over at licked at his 
quivering lips. Whining in despair, Pippin opened his mouth, allowing the 
hobbit to plunge his tongue inside. Pippin shuddered, praying that his love 
would come and save him from this approaching hell.

*

Pippin gagged in disgust as a warm tongue slid into his mouth, swirling 
around his. He felt like retching again, but he knew better. Marroc 
released his mouth, raining kisses along his chin and neck. Pippin 
grimaced as he felt a slick finger starting caress his tight opening. He 
yelped as the finger pushed and breached the ring of muscles. The young 
hobbit gritted his teeth at the burning sensation coursing through his 
bottom 
 
"You should relax, my jewel," Marroc murmured against Pippin's cheek. 
 
"Please, stop," Pippin choked, clenching his eyes shut. "It hurts." 
 
"You're the one that's making it worse," Marroc muttered. "Relax your 
muscles, and you won't feel as much pain." 
 
A screech erupted from Pippin's mouth as another slick digit shoved into 
his entrance, intensifying the searing agony. Pippin bucked his hips and 
lifted his legs, placing the soles of his feet on Marroc's chest. Using every 
ounce of his strength, Pippin violently pushed the startled hobbit away. 
The abrupt motion caused him to topple backwards, falling off the bed and 
onto the floor with a loud thud. The older hobbit groaned in pain while 
Pippin was left panting and moaning in 
misery. 
 
Marroc stood, his face beet red and lips drawn back in a snarl. "So, you 
want things rough, eh? Well, that can be arranged." 
 
Pippin squeaked as Marroc violently flipped him over, forcing his rump 
into the air. He let out afaint whimper as he felt Marroc spreading his 
cheeks and then something hard pressing against his entrance. 
 
"I was going to make this easy for you!" Marroc spat. "I was going to 
make it pleasurable for you!" 
 
"No, please, not like this!" Pippin begged, straining against his bonds. 
 
"You brought this upon yourself," Marroc snarled. 
 
At that, he rammed his cock forward, piercing Pippin's opening. Pippin 
screamed as his body jarred forward from the brutal, unexpected agony. 
Marroc moaned at the unbelievably tight and hot heat that surrounded his 
penis. The young hobbit sobbed and shifted his body to relieve himself of 
the excruciating pain, but that only made Marroc tighten his grip, sinking 
his nails into Pippin's hips, drawing blood. Marroc smirked as he saw the 
younger hobbit writhing in pain. He 
was pumping savagely into Pippin, causing the younger hobbit's body to 
jar forward at a furious pace. 
 
Marroc had every intention on making the act as painful as possible. He 
wanted to damage as much of the resisting body he navigated as he could. 
He wanted the younger hobbit to feel every moment of the searing agony. 
He had to punish Pippin for his insubordination. He had to claim the 
hobbit. The thought of the other hobbit, Merry, made rage surge into his 
mind, making him pump even harder into the quivering passage. Pippin 
could feel the blood draining from the torn tissues onto his sweat slicked 
thighs. Something began to shatter deep inside Pippin`s body; and Marroc 
could feel it, sneering savagely at the weeping hobbit. The older hobbit 
cooed in satisfaction at his task. 
 
The soreness became far more brutal, causing Pippin to scream louder and 
louder. He wanted to contain his pained cries, but the flaming agony was 
far too intense for him to remain silent.One of the older hobbit's hands 
caressed the side of his cheek, pushing aside a lock of cinnamon hair. It 
almost felt intimate and it drove more shame into Pippin's heart. The 
caressing never ceased and, in fact, the rough hand slid down his cheek, 
his neck, his back, and then slid under his belly. The hand wrapped around 
his member, and even with the painful act being committed, Pippin grew 
hard. He cried out in revulsion and did everything in his power to shove it 
away, but it was no use. 
 
"Ah, so you do enjoy my ministrations, my jewel," Marroc chuckled. 
 
Shame. It was the only word repeating in Pippin's mind. There was no 
pleasure entering him through this act. It was just his body's reaction, not 
his mind, and he hated it. He hated himself for not being able to control it. 
He hated himself even more when he thought of Merry. Marroc lowered 
his face next to Pippin's cheek, intent on capturing the younger hobbit's 
lips. Pippin snarled, and snapped his teeth at Marroc before swiveling his 
face away. Marroc laughed and drew his head away, deciding not to 
proceed that route, for the moment anyway. 
 
"Say you love me," Marroc growled, thrusting harder. 
 
Pippin howled at the sharp pain, and bit his lip hard enough to taste 
copper. "Never! I hate you, you vile hobbit! I love Merry! I could never 
love you!" 
 
Marroc snarled, tangling his fingers in the soft curls, forcing Pippin's head 
into the pillow. The older hobbit placed his full weight on the younger 
hobbit's back, causing him to be crushed into the mattress. Marroc's thrusts 
grew more violent and erratic. He was groaning in pleasure as his climax 
quickly approached. Pippin was sobbing now, tears staining his flushed 
cheeks. It felt like his entire backside had caught fire. 
 
`Oh, Merry, where are you?' he cried to himself. `This wasn't supposed to 
happen. My first time was supposed to be with you!' 
 
Marroc's seed spurted with his release, causing Pippin to shudder in utter 
disgust. Tears streamed down the younger hobbit's face. Marroc released 
Pippin. He gave no fight. His body remained limp on the bed in a puddle 
of limbs and blood. 
 
Pippin couldn't remember experiencing such pain in all of his life. It 
burned away his hard exterior and made room for fear to burrow into his 
weakened soul, but most of all it let in disgrace. And helplessness. He 
wanted to die. He wanted death so badly that he could imagine it 
overtaking his soul, drawing him away from this life. But something 
seemed to bring him back to reality. To the shame, to the hurt, and to the 
bitterness of defeat. He had been conquered at the hands of Marroc. Merry 
had not saved him. 
 
"What is the matter, my jewel?" Marroc taunted. "Do you have nothing 
left to say? No words of how that miserable Merry is going to rescue you 
and make me pay for my wicked acts?" The older hobbit lowered himself 
near Pippin`s ear, giving it a quick lick. "Are you wrecked, my dear jewel? 
I do believe you are. Perhaps you will never admit it to me, but I can see 
the misery clouding over your eyes. I can see through them, deep down to 
your retched, meager soul. Yes, 
you are ruined. You are nothing more than a wasted heap of flesh. I am 
not finished with you, though. I think you will still bring me some 
pleasure yet." His gaze softened. "Perhaps I could be a bit more gentler if 
you would only behave better." 
 
There was a crash outside, and Marroc frowned. He stood from the bed 
and yanked on a pair of trousers and a shirt, not even bothering to wipe 
away the blood that was crushing around his cock and belly. He 
momentarily leaned over the bed, placing a soft kiss on the younger 
hobbit's cheek before rushing out. 
 
Pippin was left naked, freezing, and lying in a growing pool of his blood. 
Torn. Bleeding. Ruined. That's all Pippin could see himself as.

*

Marroc growled as he traveled through the hallway, mumbling about the 
pathetic help he had hired. He had specifically ordered that the guards 
remained quiet unless there was an emergency. Marroc smiled as he 
entered the main room, finding two hobbits in wait for him. A smirk 
formed when he recognized Frodo and Sam.  
 
"Well, if it isn't Frodo Baggins and his faithful servant Samwise Gamgee. 
Oh, wait, I guess he really isn't your servant anymore, is he? More like a 
`fuck buddy'?" He laughed as the two hobbits blushed furiously. "No, 
there's no denying it. I remember spotting the two of you out in the garden 
of Bag End, humping like bunnies. I must admit, it was quite an enticing 
sight. Frodo, you so pale and sweaty, but your cheeks were flushed a deep 
crimson. You were moaning so loudly and begging for Sam to go faster 
and harder. My, almost gets me hard just thinking about it. I've often 
wondered what noises I could entice from you."  
 
Sam snarled. "Mind yourself, Marroc. Mr. Frodo and I were properly 
hidden. One would have to be snooping around to find us."  
 
Marroc snorted. "Please, am I supposed to be frightened of you? I must 
say Frodo, it's a shame you're spreading your legs for this commoner. How 
many times has he mounted you, whore?" Frodo shook, obviously fighting 
to contain his rage. Sam was the same. "Well, you are a small, frail hobbit, 
and I guess you still could be nice and tight." He moved to the mantel, 
running his hand over a gleaming blade. "Tell me, where is that 
bothersome Brandybuck?"  
 
"Where's Pippin?" Frodo inquired, raising an eyebrow.  
 
Marroc chuckled darkly. "I'm sure you already know. I suppose you led 
me out here to divert my attention while Merry sneaks into the bedroom? I 
don't know how he could possibly know where it is, unless you told him 
Frodo. As I recall, I almost led you in there once."  
 
"As I recall, you were drunk and trying to force me inside during one of 
your parties," Frodo growled.  
 
"Yes, and I remember your dear Sam coming to your rescue," Marroc 
snickered. "You left a nasty scar on my shoulder where you struck, you 
filthy Gamgee."  
 
Frodo held Sam back. "What of Pippin? Have you harmed him?"  
 
"Well, let's just say he's not a virgin anymore," Marroc laughed.  
 
Both hobbits went pale, and lowered their heads in shame. They had 
arrived too late to save the young hobbit.  
 
"Where are my guards, hm?" Marroc asked. "Have you killed them? Why, 
that's a very serious offense. You've broken into my home, and have 
murdered the hired help, and are obviouslythreatening my life. I could 
have you thrown away in the cells for life. Hm, but I wouldn't want to do 
that to you, Frodo. You're much too pretty to be placed in jail. I could 
have you stay with me, and you'd forget about that Gamgee soon enough. 
Yes, and I bet all my other comrades would 
enjoy the use of you, my little whore."  
 
Sam snarled, his temper reaching a boiling point, and he drew out his 
weapon, lunging for Marroc. The other hobbit grabbed the sword from the 
mantle, and whipped to the side, narrowly missing Sam's swiping blade. 
Marroc brought the handle up, and slammed it into the back of Sam's 
head. The hobbit grunted and fell forward into motionless heap on the 
floor. 
 
"Pity," Marroc sighed. "He certainly isn't much of a fighter. I could have 
killed him, but I'd rather see him rot in the cell along with Merry. I 
suppose I can wait to deal with him. After all, he's probably in the room 
weeping over his battered love. Now, I get to deal with you. Let's see how 
well you fight, Mr. Baggins." 
 
Frodo unsheathed his sword and prepared for the assault. 
 
* 
 
Merry snarled as he forced open the shudders to the bedroom window. 
Frustrated, he drew out his blade, and began to hack until splinters flew in 
every direction. He was determined to get through and save Pippin. Once 
the shutters had been dealt with, he smashed the glass and bundled his 
arms with the cape, pushing the sharp stray pieces aside. He crawled 
through and shoved the drape out of the way. The dimly lit room was 
illuminated by the sun, and his attention drew to the bed. Tears sprung to 
his eyes at the sight, and he wobbled over, sobbing audibly.  
 
Pippin's wrists were bound to the bed, and he was face down in the pillow, 
naked and barely breathing. There were finger marks on this hips, and his 
legs were still spread apart. A pool of blood stained the dark sheets 
beneath. Merry could still make out the liquid trickling down the young 
hobbit's bottom. Disgust. Shame. Guilt. It ran through Merry's mind at full 
force. This was his fault. He had arrived too late to save his cousin from 
the misery Marroc had inflicted.  
 
Shaking violently, he undid the bounds, and gently turned Pippin over, 
shuddering as the young hobbit winced when his bottom touched the 
fabric. Pippin gradually opened his eyes, puffy and red. His face was 
flushed, and his curls were matted down from sweat. Merry could detect a 
scent on Pippin; Marroc's scent. It nearly drove Merry over the edge with 
the urge to replace it with his own. The hobbit brushed a curl aside, and a 
faint smile formed on Pippin's trembling lips. 
 
"Merry? Is that you?" Pippin whimpered. 
 
Relief washed over his mind at the sight. Finally, he would be saved from 
this hell. 
 
"Yes, love, it is me," Merry choked, placing a soft kiss on the hobbit's 
bruised wrist. 
 
"I'm glad you've come," Pippin cried. "Please, get me out of here Merry." 
 
"Sh, in due time," Merry replied, "but I must finish this business with 
Marroc." He glanced around the room, finding the younger hobbit's 
clothes. "Let's get you dressed." 
 
Pippin broke down then. "I  I'm so sorry Merry! I tried to fight him off, 
honest! But he had me tied, and he was so much stronger! I couldn't stop 
him! I  couldn't stop  Now I'm ruined!" 
 
"Don't say that!" Merry sobbed, tears sliding down his cheeks. "It wasn't 
your fault! It's my doing! If I had been quicker, then none of this would 
have happened! You're not ruined! I love you, Pip! Remember that!" 
 
Pippin buried his face into Merry's shoulders. "I love you too, but how 
could you want me after what he did?" 
 
Merry drew back Pippin's head and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I will 
always want you, love, no matter what." He wanted to comfort the hobbit 
more, but now was not the time. Marroc was in the other room, and he 
could hear the argument and ensuing clash of steel. "We must hurry. 
Frodo and Sam are with Marroc. I will help you dress and walk." 
 
Pippin grimaced as he was helped from the bed, hissing when he began to 
walk. His bottom still felt raw, and it burned fiercely. He forced himself 
on, though. He wanted out of this place. Merry shook horribly. He knew 
the final battle was drawing near, and he honestly didn't know if he could 
defeat Marroc. There had always been tales of his mastery of the blade. 
What if he failed? No, he couldn't allow that, for Pippin's sake. If he was 
to die, he would make certain that Marroc 
would go down with him.  

* 
 
Frodo grunted in pain as his back struck the wall. Marroc was a tougher 
opponent than he had expected. The other hobbit had him pinned, and he 
forced the blade out of Frodo's hand by bending his hand back to the point 
of pain. The hobbit gave a startled cry as Marroc shoved him to the floor. 
He scrambled to get up, but the other hobbit pressed the sword into his 
neck, threatening to pierce his flesh if he moved. Marroc knelt down, 
slowly pushing Frodo's cloak aside to run a hand over the velvety material 
of his trousers. Frodo jerked when he felt the hand caressing his rear, 
making him gag in disgust.  
 
"Well, I suppose I get to find out how tight you really are," Marroc 
snickered.  
 
Frodo's eyes widened in fright. He couldn't believe that the hobbit was 
serious, but all doubts were pushed away once he felt Marroc fumbling 
with his breeches. He tried to crawl away but Marroc applied more 
pressure to the blade, making Frodo wince as it nicked his skin. Marroc 
wrapped his free arm under Frodo's waist, keeping him on his hands and 
knees.  
 
"You get off him!" Sam's voice roared.  
 
The overbearing weight was soon gone, and a loud yelp echoed in the 
room. Frodo spun around, finding Sam pummeling his fists into Marroc's 
face. The sword had been knocked away, and Sam was not carrying his. 
Frodo bolted to grab it before Marroc could recover, but the hobbit was 
strong and resilient. In one fierce punch Sam was tumbling back, blood 
gushing from his nose. Marroc spotted Frodo, and shot after him, shoving 
him roughly away from the weapon. Marroc griped the sword and stood, 
gloating over the two fallen hobbits. Frodo tried to creep toward Sam, but 
Marroc stepped between them.  
 
"How sweet," Marroc sneered. "The lowly servant coming to his master's 
aid. Well, you won't be able to help him where you'll end up, Samwise. 
Hm, perhaps I'll drop by with Frodo when the whole mess is over. I'll take 
him right in front of you, and there won't be a damn thing you can do 
about it."  
 
Sam spat a curse, and shot up from the floor. Frodo cried out in an attempt 
to dissuade him, but the hobbit didn't seem to hear him. Marroc raised his 
sword and brought it down hard over Sam's shoulder. The hobbit 
screamed as the steel cut into his flesh, and he fell to the floor, griping at 
his spurting arm. Marroc was grinning ear to ear at the sight. He raised the 
blade over Sam's foot.  
 
"Stop!" cried another voice.  
 
Marroc gazed up, smirking when he saw Merry and Pippin. "Well, good 
evening to you Merry. I see you brought Pippin out to join the delightful 
party."  
 
"Get away from Sam and Frodo," Merry snarled. "Your fight is with me, 
not with them."  
 
"Aw, but I so wanted to amputate Sam's foot and then claim Frodo as 
mine," Marroc pouted. "I suppose I could deal with them later. We really 
do have unfinished business."  
 
"That we do," Merry agreed. "I have a proposition for you. Let's fight one 
on one. If I win, you give property of Pippin to me. If you win, you can 
have him and do with me as you will."  
 
Marroc rubbed his chin. "Interesting offer." He shrugged. "Why not? I 
already know that I'm going to win. My father taught me well in the way 
of the sword."  
 
Pippin trembled and tightened his hold on Merry's arm. "Please, don't fight 
him. He'll cheat somehow."  
 
"I know, Pip, but there's no other choice," Merry whispered. "I know it'll 
have to be to the death, and if he dies, you'll belong to Paladin and 
Eglantine once more. If everything goes to plan Paladin will have no 
choice but to sign you over to me."  
 
Pippin nodded. Merry was the richest hobbit in the Shire next to Marroc. 
With Marroc gone, Paladin wouldn't hesitate to take the next best offer. 
Merry gently helped Pippin to one of the seats, grimacing as the younger 
hobbit moaned in pain. He placed a soft kiss on Pippin's brow, drew out 
his sword, and spun around to face Marroc.  
 
"May the best hobbit win," Marroc leered.  
 
The fight began in a violent clang as the two sets of steel collided. Merry 
growled in rage and frustration, swinging madly, trying to shove his blade 
through Marroc's throat or chest. The other hobbit remained calm, 
blocking each of Merry's thrusts. Sweat had started to form, though, and 
his lip was trembling from the effort it took to keep from being hit. Both 
seemed equally matched, and the other three hobbits in the room could tell 
it was going to be a long fight.  
 
Frodo had taken the opportunity to reach Sam and was now holding the 
hobbit in his arms while using his cloak to bandage the seeping wound. 
Pippin had limped from the chair, crouching next to Frodo and Sam. The 
two held him close, giving what comfort they could to the young hobbit. 
All were tense and praying for Merry's victory. Pippin eyed Sam's sword 
on the floor and then gazed back at Merry and Marroc.  
 
Marroc and Merry were locked together, each pushing at their raised 
swords, each trying to bring it down on the other's head. They were 
becoming exhausted, and both were panting heavily. Marroc grinned 
menacingly.  
 
"How does it feel, knowing that I had your sweet Pippin?" Marroc 
inquired. Merry growled, clenching his eyes shut. "Oh, and he was sweet. 
So nice, and tight, and hot. His screams of misery were so erotic as I took 
him. I'm going to do it again. Once I kill you, I'll take him right in front of 
your other cousin, and his pathetic servant. I must admit that your family 
members are quite pretty. I'll be certain to take care of Pippin and Frodo 
for you, for a while at least. Who knows, once I tire of Pippin, I might cut 
his throat for the hell of it."  
 
"You wretched scum!" Merry hissed. "I'll make you pay!" 
 
Marroc's eyes widened in surprise as Merry kneed him in the stomach. 
With a grunt, he released the sword and stumbled back. Merry stood over 
him, pressing the tip into Marroc's chest.  
 
"Please, don't kill me," Marroc begged. "You can have Pippin! I give you 
full custody! You have my word!"  
 
"Your word means nothing to me," Merry grumbled. "Scum like you 
doesn't deserve life, but I won't take it. I'm not as cold-hearted as you are."  
 
Merry turned, smiling down at Pippin. The grin on Pippin faded when he 
noticed that Marroc had risen. He held a dagger and was descending on 
Merry's back. Pippin screamed a warning, and Merry spun around. It was 
too late to react, and the dagger sank into his shoulder. Merry howled in 
agony, collapsing to the floor with Marroc hovering over him. The other 
hobbit picked up his blade from the floor, and faced away from Pippin, 
looming over Merry's belly.  
 
"Well, it seems the better hobbit has won," Marroc laughed. "Goodbye, 
Merry."  
 
Merry closed his eyes, expecting to feel pain, but it never came. His eyes 
reopened, and he gasped in shock. Marroc was still above him, dangling 
the sword, but his mouth was wide open. He wobbled around and jerked in 
surprise at who he saw. His hands extended, trying to wrap them around 
the other hobbit's neck, but whoever it was backed out of his reach.  
 
"I'll be damned," Marroc muttered. "You clever imp."  
 
He fell to the ground in a tangled heap and moved no more. Merry gazed 
up and tears of joy slid down his cheeks. There was Pippin, holding the 
blade triumphantly. He was solemn and only smiled when he met Merry's 
gaze. Pippin dropped the sword, hobbled to Merry's side, and kissed him 
fiercely.  
 
"Are you all right Merry?" Pippin inquired.  
 
"Nothing a doctor can't fix," Merry chuckled. "The wound looks worse 
than it is. That was a brave thing you did Pip."  
 
"It was nothing," Pippin answered. "I couldn't let him kill you."  
 
"Well, looks like we're finally going to be together," Merry replied. Pippin 
grinned at the statement. "Everything is going to be fine from now on."  
 
Pippin eased him up, while Frodo did the same with Sam. 
 
*
 
Merry sighed as he slowly woke. He was safe in Buckland, and had been 
previously tended by a doctor. The wound was minor, and been stitched 
and bandaged. Frodo and Sam were in one of the guest rooms, and Merry 
rose up from the bed, intent on checking up on the two. He let out a gasp 
as a gentle hand pushed him back down. Gazing up, he saw Pippin 
hovering over him. 
 
"Good to see you, Pip," Merry murmured. "Did the doctor tend to you?" 
 
Pippin blushed but nodded. "Yes, he said the tissues would heal in time. 
Nothing serious. I spoke with Sam and Frodo earlier. He was cut pretty 
badly by Marroc's blade, and it will take months before everything is 
properly restored." 
 
"It could have been a lot worse," Merry replied. "Besides, he has Frodo to 
watch over him."  
 
"Aye, and you have me to watch over you," Pippin cooed. 
 
The young hobbit drew back the covers and crawled onto the bed, nestling 
his rump over Merry's crotch. Merry's breath hitched. The contact made 
his cock swell. He couldn't keep himself from growing hard, and Pippin 
smiled once he felt it. The older hobbit groaned as Pippin began to grind 
his rear over his growing erection. Merry griped Pippin's hips, stilling his 
movements. 
 
"Darling, you're going to make it hard for me to control myself when you 
do that," Merry panted.  
 
"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself," Pippin muttered. "I want 
you to make love to me."  
 
Merry's eyes widened in shock. "Pip, no. It's far too soon. You still must 
be sore, and I will only cause you more harm." 
 
Tears sprung to Pippin's eyes, and glared down at the sheets in shame. 
"You don't want me."  
 
At that Merry rose up, despite the sharp pain that coursed in his chest and 
kissed Pippin brutally. His fingers twined in Pippin's hair, cradling his 
head, thrusting his tongue with urgency in the willing mouth. Pippin 
groaned, playfully pushed Merry back to the bed and started grinding once 
more. Merry growled and grabbed his hips tightly, but instead of stopping, 
began to pump upwards, creating more friction. Pippin's mouth formed an 
`o' of  surprise, and he was soon groaning in pleasure.  
 
"Do you feel that Pip?" Merry asked, thrusting harder. "Oh, you make me 
so hard it hurts. I want you so bad, Pippin. There are times when I just 
want to throw you to the ground and pump into you until we're both lost in 
bliss." 
 
"Oh, Merry," Pippin moaned. "I want that. I want you to take me. I need 
you to claim me. Please, make love to me." 
 
Merry was reluctant, but he saw the dire need glowing in his cousin's eyes. 
He wanted to forget Marroc, and Merry wasn't about to deny him that.  
 
"Very well," Merry whispered, undoing Pippin's shirt. "But if it's too 
painful, I will stop, despite any protests you may give. Remember, Pip, we 
don't have to do this yet." 
 
"But I want to," Pippin whimpered. 
 
Merry nodded, and began to suck and nibble at Pippin's exposed shoulder. 
The younger hobbit giggled, and wiggled in the older hobbit's lap.  
 
"Oh, that feels lovely," Pippin murmured. Merry stroked at the bulge in 
Pippin's trousers. "Ah, Merry!" 
 
"Oh, I'm going to make you feel a lot better love," Merry chuckled. 
 
* 
 
Sam winced at the twinge in his arm. Not only had his shoulder been 
slashed, but the arm had been broken in the fall, which was now heavily 
bandaged and kept in a sling. He was up with Frodo, heading down the 
hall to Merry's bedroom. 
 
"Are you sure you're up for walking?" Frodo asked, concern laced in his 
voice. 
 
"I'm fine, Mr. Frodo," Sam answered. "It's just my arm that's injured, not 
my legs." 
 
"You can call me Frodo," the older hobbit smiled.  
 
"Sorry, just a habit I suppose," Sam smirked.  
 
"I think I'll go in the library to find that book Merry likes," Frodo sighed. 
"It's been a long time since we've sat down and read together as a group."  
 
"Ah, I remember those days," Sam murmured. "I always loved those 
stories you read; about the Elves, and distant lands. I'll just go ahead into 
the bedroom while you get the book." 
 
Sam continued on as Frodo turned into the left room. He reached the door 
and twisted the knob, getting a small peak into the room. A gasp formed in 
his mouth at the sight. Both Merry and Pippin were naked, and the 
younger hobbit was nestled in Merry's lap, grinding hard and panting. Sam 
immediately shut the door, blushing furiously, hoping the two were too 
caught up in their activity to notice him. Frodo appeared, smiling brightly. 
 
"Ugh, I don't think they're up for a story right now," Sam stuttered. 
 
"Why not?" Frodo inquired, raising an eyebrow.  
 
"Oh Merry!" came a cry from the room. 
 
Frodo smirked. "Ah, I see. Say, Sam, perhaps we should go back to the 
guest room and make a little noise ourselves." 
 
Sam laughed. "You're a wicked one Frodo, but I like your thinkin'. But my 
arm...." 
 
Frodo placed a light peck on Sam's nose. "I think we can manage." 
 
* 
 
Pippin shuddered as he felt Merry's finger trace along his entrance. He 
winced a little at the touch. His opening was still throbbing from the abuse 
at the hands of Marroc, but the thought of Merry touching him so 
intimately made him forget about the pain. 
 
"Have you changed your mind?" Merry asked.  
 
"Never," Pippin groaned. "Please, touch me."  
 
The young hobbit moaned as Merry's finger slid in, carefully stretching 
and searching for that special spot within. Pippin screeched, making Merry 
grin widely as he found his sweet spot. 
 
"Oh, Merry!" Pippin cried, clenching his eyes shut. "Do that again! 
Please!" 
 
Merry smirked and did as his cousin asked. The younger hobbit was 
gleaming with sweat, and his cock was fully aroused, leaking from the tip. 
Using his other hand, Merry pumped Pippin's member while thrusting his 
finger into the warm passage. Pippin was lost in pleasure and didn't notice 
that Merry had slipped in another, stretching gently. The pain slowly 
returned, though, and Pippin bit his lip, attempting to ignore it. He wanted 
to do this with Merry so badly, and he wasn't 
about to let his battered body prevent it. 
 
"Merry, Merry," Pippin chanted, leaning down to lick at the older hobbit's 
jaw. "I want you inside me."  
 
"I'm worried though," Merry murmured. "I don't want to hurt you." 
 
"Please, do it Merry," Pippin begged. He reached down, and traced his 
fingertips over Merry's engorged member. "Please?" 
 
Merry hissed at the teasing touch. He reached down the sheets and found 
the bottle of oil. He coated his member, pressing the tip near Pippin's 
entrance. Gently, he pushed upward, trying to go in slowly without 
harming his cousin. Pippin instantly grimaced and bared his teeth in 
agony. He hadn't expected it to be so painful with his love. Merry's cock 
sunk halfway in the tight heat, and Pippin cried out, tears trickling down 
his flushed cheeks. His backside was on fire again, and he could feel his 
sensitive tissues tearing. The older hobbit gazed up at his cousin's face, 
frowning as he saw the sweet face wrung in misery. Sighing, he gradually 
pulled out and gazed down, trembling when he noticed blood coating his 
member. Pippin whimpered, and reached around, trying to reach his 
cousin's cock to insert it back in. Merry stilled him, hugging him close.  
 
"No, Pip, it's too soon," Merry soothed. "You're not healed yet." 
 
"But...." Pippin began. 
 
"No buts," Merry responded. His gaze softened, and he nuzzled Pippin's 
cheek. "I'm sorry. I've hurt you." 
 
"It wasn't your fault," Pippin whispered, his eyes downcast. 
 
"Just a little more time, love," Merry murmured, rolling Pippin over. He 
rained tiny kisses on Pippin's face, causing the younger hobbit to chuckle 
lightly. "When you're all better, I'll make love to you, and do it properly. 
I'll light candles in the bedroom and place rose petals all over the bed." 
 
"You don't have to do that for me," Pippin giggled.  
 
"You deserve it," Merry smiled, kissing down Pippin's body. 
 
The younger hobbit gazed in anticipation as Merry hovered over his erect 
penis. His eyes rolled back as Merry's mouth wrapped around him, 
sucking hard and fast. Pippin tangled his fingers in the sandy curls and 
bucked upwards. Merry allowed Pippin to thrust into his mouth, knowing 
the younger hobbit was close to orgasm. Pippin shuddered violently and 
let out a keening wail as his seed spurted out. Merry swallowed every drop 
and moved back up to nibble at the tip of Pippin's ear. 
 
"Oh, I have to take care of you, Merry," Pippin stated.  
 
Merry froze. His cock had wilted when he saw the blood on it. The 
thought of Pippin in pain, and knowing he had been the one to cause it, 
had made him lose all arousal.  
 
"No, I'm fine," Merry answered, holding Pippin down. He didn't want his 
cousin to see his stained member. "Knowing that I've satiated you for the 
time is enough. Oh, how I love you, my darling Pip." 
 
"I love you too," Pippin murmured. "When are we going to see my Da? 
And what of Marroc?" 
 
"Soon," Merry replied. "Don't fear. He will sign you over to me, if he 
knows what's good for him. As for Marroc, we'll worry about that matter 
later." 
 
"I think we should get dressed," Pippin sighed. "I wonder what Sam and 
Frodo are up to?" 
 
"Let's go and find out," Merry replied. "They're in the guest room, right?"  
 
*
  
Later that evening, the four hobbits ventured out of Buckland, heading 
back to Pippin's home. They had heard nothing of Marroc's death from 
passing hobbits, and were very uneasy. Such a matter should have spread 
like wildfire over the Shire. Something was wrong.  
 
An hour passed, and Pippin was squirming restlessly in the saddle. Merry 
grimaced at the thought of poor Pippin's rear. He had begged the younger 
hobbit to stay behind, but he would have none of it. Smiling, Merry 
reached under Pippin's cloak, and began to massage his bottom, causing 
the young hobbit to giggle. Their amusement was suddenly interrupted as 
a hobbit appeared from the 
path. All four remained still, recognizing the hobbit as the local shirriff. 
 
"Hullo there!" said the hobbit. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, Frodo Baggins, 
Sam Gamgee, and Peregrin Took I presume?"  
 
The four nodded. 
 
"Hullo yourself, Robin," Merry muttered. "Going about your shirriff tasks 
I suppose?" 
 
"`Fraid so," Robin sighed. "I just came from Marroc Smallburrows' home. 
Three of his servants were found dead, but Marroc wasn't around." 
 
"That's impossible," Sam growled. "He was dead!"  
 
"So, you admit to murdering him?" Robin inquired.  
 
"I was the one," Pippin answered, his voice soft. His eyes burned with 
tears, and his cheeks became flushed. "Marroc was trying to kill Merry, so 
I killed him. It was self defense." 
 
Robin raised his arms, trying to calm Pippin. "I don't doubt you for a 
second, lad. I was unfortunate enough to know Marroc myself, and I could 
care less of what happens to him. However, from the blood trail that heads 
out of the home, it appears as if he got up and walked off. There's a party 
out searching for him, and who knows, maybe they'll find him dead out 
there from bleeding." 
 
Pippin lowered his head. "But....I stabbed him....in the belly. The blade....it 
went through him. He should be dead. There's.... it...he can't be alive." 
 
Frodo let out a frustrated sigh. "It depends on the type of gut wound. You 
may have missed the vital organs, which is nearly unbelievable, and he 
could have just passed out from the pain. It seems almost impossible that 
he could survive, but there's a slim chance. Goodness, why didn't we 
check him?!"  
 
Merry clenched his eyes shut, and snarled. The idea that Marroc could be 
alive sent rage coursing through his mind. If it were true, the hobbit could 
still cause them problems. He had to reach Paladin, and convince him to 
sign Pippin over. 
 
"Does Paladin know of this?" Merry asked. 
 
"He believes Marroc is dead," Robin replied.  
 
Pippin choked back a sob. "And I suppose he sent you out to find me?" 
 
Robin's gaze became downcast, and he looked shamed. "That he did, lad. 
He wants me to escort you back home, and he wants Merry and anyone 
else involved arrested." A smile formed, though. "I've known you four for 
some time, and you're respectable hobbits. I don't want to see any harm 
come to you. I'm not about to arrest any of you, and neither is anyone else, 
unless you run into a 
few of Marroc's dwindling cronies. Just pass on by. I never saw you." 
 
"Thank you, Robin," Merry murmured. "I won't forget your kindness." 
 
"Aye, but just remember," Robin warned, "if Marroc is found alive, he can 
have you arrested. I won't be able to look the other way then. I suggest you 
get what you're looking for from Paladin, and leave the Shire until matters 
blow over. I'm sure there's someone you know of that can keep you 
informed of matters, and when would be a safe time to return. I sincerely 
doubt that Marroc will be found alive, but better safe than sorry, eh?" 
 
"Thanks again, Robin," Frodo answered. "I know of safe quarters we can 
stay in if necessary." 
 
"Glad to hear it!" Robin chirped. "Best of luck, especially to you two." He 
rode beside Merry and Pippin, patting the younger hobbit's shoulder. "I 
hope you two find happiness in each other. Oh, and enjoy your wedding 
night." 
 
The hobbit winked at the flushing hobbits, and rode off into the night. The 
four resumed their journey. "Merry, what if my Da doesn't sign the 
contract?" Pippin squeaked. 
 
"Don't worry, love, he will," Merry replied, kissing the back of Pippin's 
head. "And don't have fear of Marroc's contract. Before we left his home, I 
found it in his desk drawer and tore it up." 
 
Pippin smiled, and leaned back into his cousin's arms.  
 
* 
 
Paladin was pacing the room nervously, rubbing at his hands, and pulling 
out a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat forming on his brow. Eglantine 
was sitting off in the corner, knitting, and appearing in good spirits. 
Paladin glared at his wife, plotting her punishment for interference, but 
other things on his mind were too important. He could deal with her later. 
Marroc was presumed dead. How he hated that meddlesome Brandybuck, 
but the shirriff would handle him and bring 
back Pippin. He could find a new suitor to buy the brat. 
 
A loud knock made Paladin jump, and grasp his chest. A sneer formed 
when he figured it was the shirriff. He strode to the door, opened, and 
yelped. Merry shot in, grabbing the older hobbit by the scruff of his neck, 
hauling him back in the library followed by Pippin, Frodo, and Sam. 
Eglantine gazed up, but made no effort to come to her husband's aid. 
 
"How good it is to see you again," Merry snarled, shoving Paladin in one 
of the chairs. "I assume you know why I am here." 
 
"Yes," Paladin stuttered, frightened out of his wits. "How did you get 
here? The shirriff..." 
 
"Never saw us," Sam grumbled. 
 
"We slipped right on by," Frodo muttered. "We're quite stealthy when we 
want to be." 
 
Merry sat in front of Paladin, baring his teeth in a threatening manner. 
"Give Pippin to me. 
 
"Paladin blinked, and shook his head. "I'm not about to hand him over to 
the likes of you, you wretched Brandybuck!" 
 
Merry chuckled darkly, and dug his fingers into Paladin's arms, forcing 
them to stretch outward. "Tell me, do you like your arms?" 
 
"Yes," Paladin replied, looking confused. 
 
"Well, if you want to keep them attached to your body, then I suggest you 
sign the contract," Merry hissed, tapping at his sword. "And the real one 
this time."  
 
"You wouldn't dare!" Paladin spat. "There are witnesses here!" 
 
"Who? Your wife?" Merry laughed. "Why, I believe she would enjoy 
watching me dismember you. Frodo? Sam? No. You see, they haven't had 
a very good day, just like Pippin and me. Marroc tried to violate Frodo, 
and he did quite a good job of injuring Sam's shoulder, arm, nose, and 
forehead. You're the cause of this mess, and they're not too happy with 
you at the moment. They'll vouch for me, saying it was self defense. You 
came at me with a dagger. I had no choice 
but to act quickly." 
 
Paladin trembled violently. "Eglantine?" 
 
"Don't look at me," Eglantine snapped. "You're a despicable husband and 
father. I've hated every moment of being trapped at your side. I would be 
thrilled to watch you get hacked to bits." 
 
"Pippin, my son...." Paladin begged. 
 
"I wouldn't help you if my life depended on it," Pippin leered. 
 
"Speaking of which, I could just kill you," Merry sneered. "Then, all the 
power of the estate would go to Eglantine. I'm sure she would sign Pippin 
over without a fuss." 
 
"There are others in the Shire who-- " Paladin began.  
 
"Who'll what?!" Merry barked, causing Paladin to wince. "Everyone 
knows that you're a scoundrel! No one would care if you died!"  
 
Paladin was sweating immensely, and he shivered fiercely. He realized 
that Merry wasn't kidding, and that no one was going to come to his aid. 
There was nothing left he could do. 
 
"All right!" Paladin screamed, jerking out of Merry's grip. "I'll sign Pippin 
over to you! Just don't kill me!" 
 
Merry nodded, and Paladin fumbled with the drawer, taking out a tan 
parchment with an official seal at the bottom. Paladin signed, and Merry 
snatched the document from the hobbit, gazing it over before handing it to 
Frodo to inspect. 
 
"It's real," Frodo stated, smiling. "Pippin belongs to you now." 
 
Merry grinned widely, pulled his cousin into a tight embrace. Pippin 
laughed, and rained kisses along his jaw. Finally, they would be together. 
 
"I don't mean to interrupt the intimate moment," Sam coughed, "but we 
really need to be movin' on."  
 
Pippin glanced at his mother, and broke down to tears. Eglantine moved to 
his side, and gave him a warm hug.  
 
"There, there, son," Eglantine soothed. "Don't you worry about your Ma, 
she can handle herself just fine." She gave him a wink, and patted him off. 
"Go, and be happy with your new life. I'm sorry I didn't provide you a 
good one." 
 
"It's ok, Ma," Pippin choked. "It wasn't entirely your fault."  
 
He walked past Paladin, and spat at his feet. The older hobbit snarled, put 
kept still when he spotted the harsh gaze from Merry. The four hobbits left 
the hobbit hole, mounted the ponies, and rode off. Merry followed after 
Frodo, uncertain as to where they were going. His thoughts traced back to 
Marroc, and he prayed that the hobbit was dead. They had gone through 
enough torment, but somehow, he could sense the turmoil wasn't over.  
 
*

A week had passed since the incident with Paladin. Merry had taken up 
residence in a small hobbit community on the outskirts of Bree with 
Pippin, renting a small home. Frodo and Sam had their own hobbit hole, 
but were close by. Several hobbits in the area, close friends of Frodo, had 
agreed to travel back and forth between Bree and the Shire to gain 
information. Marroc was still missing, 
but presumed dead. The news did little to hearten Merry's spirits. He 
longed to return to Buckland, and begin his life with Pippin. Still, they 
were not married. Pippin wanted to wait until they were home, and things 
could be done more properly.  
 
Merry was wandering the halls, carrying candles in a discrete manner as 
Pippin read in the library. Several others were already burning, 
illuminating the room with a soft yellow glow. The sheets had been pulled 
back on the bed and rose petals were sprinkled about. A grin formed on 
Merry's face as he lit the last few candles. He was going to make this 
evening perfect for Pippin.  
 
He ventured back to the library, sneaking up behind Pippin. The younger 
hobbit let out a squeal of shock as moist lips latched around his neck, and 
gentle hands slid down his chest in light, circular motions. He giggled and 
arched into the touch, tilting his head until his face was buried in Merry's 
soft curls.  
 
"Hm, Merry, I love it when you touch me so," Pippin groaned.  
 
"It's about to get even better," Merry replied. He pulled Pippin out of the 
chair. "Close your eyes, Pip. I have a surprise for you." 
 
Pippin smirked, but did as Merry asked. "What type of surprise?" 
 
"You'll see soon enough," Merry laughed. He took Pippin's hand, and lead 
him to the bedroom. "Open your eyes, love." 
 
A gasp came from Pippin as he viewed the shimmering room. "Oh, Merry, 
it's beautiful." 
 
"Not as beautiful as you," Merry murmured, pressing the younger hobbit's 
back to his chest. 
 
Pippin spun around, his eyes large and watering. He wrapped his arms 
around Merry's neck, and roughly pressed his lips against the older 
hobbit's. A growl surged in Merry's throat, and he broke the kiss to lean 
down, snaking his arms around Pippin's thighs. He lifted Pippin off the 
floor, causing the other hobbit to enlace his legs around Merry's waist. A 
moan came from the young hobbit as his back pressed hard against the 
wall. Pippin's cheeks flushed with heat as he felt 
himself swell in the confines of his trousers. He ached for contact and let 
out a sharp cry as Merry ground hard into him. Merry lowered his head, 
capturing Pippin's bottom lip between his teeth. Groaning, Pippin thrust 
his tongue out, grazing it across Merry's teeth. The hobbit grunted, 
released the quivering lip from his teeth, and plunged his tongue into the 
awaiting mouth. Their tongues twined, thrusting hard to match the rhythm 
of their swaying hips. Pippin mewled under 
the sensual assault, kissing and hugging desperately at his cousin. 
 
"Oh, Merry, I love you," Pippin moaned.  
 
The young hobbit began to pant, and speech was starting to become 
difficult. He could sense that orgasm wasn't too far off, and he didn't want 
it to end so soon. "Bed, Merry." 
 
The older hobbit was reluctant. He was tempted tear both their clothing off 
and take Pippin hard and fast against the wall, but he figured their first 
time might as well be in the bed. Slowly, he walked to the bed, snaking his 
hands around Pippin's bottom, causing the young hobbit to laugh and 
pound at Merry's shoulders as the older hobbit squeezed his rump 
playfully. A startled yelp 
passed Pippin's lips as Merry threw him to the bed and covered him 
quickly, raining kisses all over his face. 
 
"Mph, Merry, I think we have too many clothes on," Pippin muttered 
between kisses. 
 
"I agree Pip," Merry replied, slowly undoing the younger hobbit's shirt. 
 
Shivers ran down Pippin's spine as the cool air hit his exposed chest, and 
Merry leaned down, suckling on one of his peaked nipples. Pippin 
moaned, and pushed his chest upwards, trying to get more of wet warmth. 
Merry's hand slid down to his waist, trailing his fingers across the bulge in 
Pippin's pants before finally cupping his girth. Pippin  whimpered as 
Merry began to squeeze and stroke his erection. 
 
"Merry, please, no teasing," Pippin begged, sweat breaking over his brow. 
 
"Aw, but I enjoy the wonderful noises you make," Merry chuckled. 
 
Pippin growled and shot up, knocking Merry over and pinning him to the 
bed while straddling his hips. He grasped Merry's shirt and tore it open, 
sending buttons flying and scattering across the floor. Merry threw his 
head back in a moan as Pippin licked and nibbled down his chest. His own 
erection was throbbing painfully, and he longed to free it from his 
trousers. He broke free from 
Pippin's hold, griping at Pippin's hips, grinding the bulge in his pants 
against the younger hobbit's rear. Pippin bit his lip from the intense feeling 
coursing threw his lower body, and rubbed his buttocks against Merry's 
hard, clothed erection. 
 
"Oh, Merry, I want you inside of me," Pippin moaned, darting his tongue 
across Merry's swollen lips. He reached down and began to undo Merry's 
breeches, using his other hand to caress the heated bulge. "I want you to 
pound into me until my voice grows hoarse from screaming your name 
over and over." 
 
Merry clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to come then and there from 
Pippin's words. He had fantasized this moment for a long time. Sitting up 
abruptly, Merry pushed off Pippin's shirt and undid the lad's trousers. In 
no time they were both naked, and Pippin was once again sliding down 
Merry's trembling form. He came to Merry's engorged member and placed 
a light kiss on the rosy tip. Merry let out strangled groan as Pippin finally 
wrapped his lips around his erection. A 
pleasurable warmth surrounded his member, and he tangled his fingers in 
Pippin's cinnamon curls as the young hobbit began to bob up and down. 
Pippin momentarily released his mouth from the pulsing flesh to glide his 
tongue across it. An agonizing ache spread along his cock. Merry could 
feel himself tightening, close to climaxing, forcing him to urgently push at 
Pippin's head. 
 
Pippin gazed up at him with a hurt expression. "Did I do something 
wrong?" 
 
Merry pulled him close in a tight embrace, kissing him hard. "Everything 
you did was wonderful, but it would have been over too soon if I allowed 
you to continue."  
 
"Oh," Pippin giggled. 
 
A smirk formed on Merry's face. "Now, it is my turn to pleasure you, 
love." 
 
The older hobbit gently positioned Pippin on his back and moved down to 
the younger hobbit's feet. He lifted the left into his palm, licking and 
nipping at the sole. Pippin bit back a laugh at the ticklish sensation, but he 
also found it strangely arousing, creating a terrible yet sensuous throb in 
his member. Merry was delivering kisses up his leg now, moving to lick 
and nip at his inner thigh. Pippin whimpered and cupped Merry's face, 
silently pleading for him to give his attention to his aching cock. Merry 
couldn't ignore the desperate expression, and he dived down on Pippin's 
member, swallowing him whole. 
 
"Merry!" Pippin cried, clenching his eyes shut as white hot pleasure shot 
through him. "Please, I need you inside me! I'm too close!" 
 
Reluctantly, Merry drew away from Pippin's cock, giving it a final lick at 
the base. He reached over to the night stand, grabbing the oil. He propped 
a pillow under Pippin's hips and slicked up his fingers. Gently, he traced 
the tip of his finger across the tight opening, coaxing the ring of muscles 
to relax. Pippin shuddered as the first digit slowly sank into his entrance. 
He was relieved that there wasn't pain, and he began to rock his hips, 
impaling himself on the finger. Merry smiled and leaned down, 
passionately kiss his mewling cousin. Another finger slipped in, stretching 
Pippin's channel, making him groan loudly.  
 
"I'm ready Merry," Pippin panted. "Please, take me." 
 
Merry was still fearful, wondering if Pippin was fully healed. He didn't 
want to harm him again. 
 
"Merry, please, I need you," Pippin pleaded. "I want to feel you, and 
forget him. I can still feel him inside of me, hurting me. Make me forget 
him, Merry." 
 
A flicker of rage surged through Merry's heart at the thought of Pippin 
being taken by another. He hated Marroc, and he was about to wipe him 
from Pippin's memory. Removing his fingers, he slicked up his cock and 
positioned it over Pippin's opening. Gradually, he pushed himself into the 
tight heat, groaning at every inch he slipped in. He glanced down at 
Pippin, making sure he was all right. The younger hobbit grimaced as 
Merry completely buried himself into his passage. There was still pain 
from being stretched by the large girth but it wasn't as bad as before. 
Merry kept himself still, though he was sweating heavily from the effort 
wildly pump in the passage. Pippin sighed in content as the pain slowly 
dissipated, fiddling with the silky petals on the sheets. 
 
"Hm, you're so big Merry," Pippin murmured. 
 
"Am I hurting you?" Merry asked in concern. 
 
"No, just move Merry," Pippin muttered. 
 
The older hobbit slowly withdrew and then slammed back in. Pippin 
shrieked, digging his nails into Merry's back as the older hobbit's cock 
grazed over his sweet spot. Merry winced at the pressure from Pippin's 
nails, but the ecstacy surrounding his member was overwhelming and 
forget about the sharp sensation.  
 
"Oh, Merry, yes!" Pippin cried. "Harder! Faster! Merry.....oh yes!" 
 
Merry pumped fiercely into the clenching passage, gritting hit teeth in 
pleasure. He took hold of Pippin's right leg, hooking it over his shoulder 
while wrapping the other around his waist. Pippin twisted his fingers into 
the sheets, trying to find some leverage as Merry pounded into him, 
jerking his body closer and closer to the headboard. 
 
"I love you so much," Merry murmured. "You're so beautiful." 
 
"Aye, I love you too," Pippin groaned. "Ah! Oh love!"  
 
"Hm, you like that?" Merry asked, making his thrusts short but hard. 
 
"Yes," Pippin hissed. 
 
His sweet spot was being struck over and over, making his breathing 
ragged. All he could do was pant and groan wantonly. A fire had erupted 
in his abdomen and spasms coursed through his body. His member was 
leaking from the tip, on the verge of shooting out his seed. Merry grasped 
Pippin's member, jerking it hard, which was the younger hobbit's undoing. 
He came hard, screaming his cousin's name and spurting his milky fluid 
over Merry's belly. Merry opened his mouth in a gasp as Pippin's passage 
squeezed his member to a near point of pain, but even 
at this, he did not come.  
 
"Hm, Merry, pull out love," Pippin grinned. "I want to try something else." 
 
Merry raised an eyebrow at Pippin's wicked grin, but gradually pulled out 
of the tight opening, cautious not to hurt him. Pippin coaxed Merry to 
crawl back, and when he thought Merry was far enough, he turned onto 
his hands and knees, wiggling his pale, creamy rump in an enticing 
manner. Unwittingly, Merry licked his lips at the erotic sight. His erection 
seemed to throb even more painfully. 
 
"Back inside Merry," Pippin sighed. "I feel so empty without you." 
 
Shivering, Merry moved behind the young hobbit, positioning his cock 
over the opening. He entered gently but was soon ramming into the soft 
passage. Merry lowered his head, raining kisses over Pippin's sweaty back 
and shoulder blades. He moved to Pippin's cheek, nuzzling him softly, 
urging him to turn his head.      
 
Pippin complied, and instantly groaned as Merry's tongue pushed inside 
his mouth. Merry's thrusts grew frenzied, almost savage, but he was 
always watching his cousin's face, ready to stop at the first sign of pain. 
 
"You're mine," Merry growled. "You're finally mine." 
 
"Yes, Merry," Pippin groaned. "I love you. Oh, darling, don't stop. You 
feel so good in me. How I love you."  
 
"It's you that feels good," Merry grunted. "My darling love. You mean 
everything to me." 
 
Tears sprung to Pippin's eyes, and he began to sob. Merry caught this, 
stilled his movements, and pulled out, worried that he had harmed his 
cousin. He lifted Pippin up, and turned him around.  
 
"What's wrong, love?" Merry asked, caressing the younger hobbit's 
cheeks. "Was I being too rough?" 
 
Pippin choked. "No, Merry it's just-- I never thought this moment would 
come. I never thought you'd be making love to me. I just wish....it had 
been you to....to...take my virginity.....other than him." 
 
Merry hushed him. "Darling, I love you, no matter what. Remember that."  
 
He eyed Merry's erection and rose up over the older hobbit's lap, impaling 
himself. Merry raised his hands, wiping away the tears that slid down his 
cheeks. They gently rocked together, kissing long and slow. Merry held 
Pippin tightly as he climaxed, his seed shooting up Pippin's passage. He 
collapsed on the bed, his member still imbedded  in his cousin's body, 
panting heavily. He ran his fingers through Pippin's drenched curls. The 
younger hobbit murmured in content, nuzzling his cheek against the crook 
of Merry's neck. 
 
"Was that good love?" Merry asked, massaging his cousin's lower back. 
 
"Wonderful," Pippin murmured. "We have to do that more often." 
 
"I can agree to that," Merry chuckled. 
 
"I love you, Merry," Pippin yawned, slowly falling asleep.  
 
Merry smiled, and kissed Pippin's forehead. "I love you too." 
 
He was soon asleep as well, holding Pippin close.  
 
To be continued.