Frolic the Fifth: Yule

In which Pippin learns that it's not always wise to get everything you want, and a long-delayed conversation brings about a happy ending.

Brandy Hall, Buckland - 29 Foreyule 1408 SR

It was Yule again, and Merry was watching his breath crystallise as he stood outside the main doors of Brandy Hall, waiting for the Tuckborough party to arrive. They should have been at Great Smials this year, but Saradoc had taken the occasion of his first Yule as Master of Buckland to insist that Brandy Hall be the venue once more for the Took-Brandybuck festivities.

It would be a very different Yule, though, this year. Firstly, his grandfather, Old Rory, had died in the spring, and the Yule festivities would not be punctuated his robust laughter and calls for more wine. Secondly, he and Pippin wouldn't have to hide their affection and desire, since his parents had accepted them as a tween pairing. And thirdly, there was Berry , who had only recently been well enough to travel back to Buckland. It would be a few more months yet before he was fully healed, and he would never again walk without a limp, but it could have been worse. If Berry had lost his leg, or had died... Merry shook his head and tried once more to direct his thoughts in more cheerful directions. For once it worked, but only because he heard the hooves of the pony coming up the drive and looked up, eager to catch the first glimpse of his love.

Merry's heart leapt as Pippin came into view a few seconds later. The shaggy chestnut pony rounded the bend in an easy canter and came to a halt only a few yards away from the doors. In a trice Pippin had jumped out of the saddle and run to Merry's arms, where he was spun around in an ecstatic embrace.

"Merry! We're here at last!" Pippin cried as he flung his arms around his cousin. "Did you think we got lost? Nel couldn't find her locket, only it turned out she'd packed it in one of Vinca's bags, and-" the rest of his sentence was lost as Merry kissed him fiercely, possessively, trying to make up for two months of deprivation in a few scant seconds.

"Oh… mmm…" Merry had had every intention of saying something coherent, but lack of air and a sudden flush of arousal had turned his brain to something resembling a bran mash, so he closed his eyes instead and buried his face in Pippin's hair, revelling in the scent that he inhaled with every breath and the warmth that he could feel through their clothing.

"Ah…" Pippin's response equalled his own in eloquence, but they didn't need words, anyway, not when they were in each other's arms.

A burst of teasing and laughter from behind made Merry aware that they had an audience. Without letting go of Pippin, he turned around and saw that several children - led by Moro Burrows, he noted, grimly - were gathered by the entrance and giggling at the embracing couple. Merry scowled at them, but it had little effect and he couldn't maintain a pretence of anger when he had his lover's arms around him.

Esme, looking on from the doorway, smiled to see them so openly affectionate. She had played her part in smoothing things over after the events at Great Smials, and although she still hoped that Merry would make a good marriage one day, she couldn't deny that he and Pippin were so happy together that they almost glowed.

"Shame on you, nephew!" she called, coming over to the pair. "Have you run poor Noggin into the ground in your haste to get here?"

Pippin laughed and ran to greet her. "Not at all, Aunt Esme." He gave her a hug and a smacking kiss on the cheek. "I only took him to a canter as we entered the drive. The carriage is barely a minute behind me."

It was true - they could hear the rumbling of the wheels on the gravel as the huge Great Smials carriage hove into view, led by a team of six fine Shire ponies. The wagon drew to a halt in front of the door and Pippin went over to help his family. Nel and Vinca tumbled out of the carriage and were greeted warmly by Esme and Merry while Paladin and Pippin helped the old Thain out. He was looking rather frail now, as if the death of Rorimac in the spring had taken some of Ferumbras' own energy. They moved slowly towards the smial, while Esme remained to supervise the unloading of the baggage.

Saradoc sauntered out of the main door to greet the Thain respectfully and Paladin affably. After chucking the girls under the chin and giving Pippin a clasp on the shoulder that made the youngster feel rather grown up, he took Pippin's place at the Thain's side, and the three men wandered back into the hall in search of a quiet corner where pipeweed and ale could be consumed in peace.

The girls raced off to tidy themselves up and to see which of their particular friends had arrived already, while Merry and Pippin were trying very hard not to fall into each other's arms again in front of all the servants.

"Who else is here, Aunt?" Pippin enquired politely.

"Well, the Boffins and Burrows were here yesterday, and the Bolgers are arriving tomorrow."

"Is Frodo coming?"

"He arrived this morning. He was talking with Berry in the Red Parlour last I saw."

"How is Berry ?" Pip asked, anxious to hear the latest news about his cousin.

"Not too bad, considering. He's still very stiff in the mornings, or when it's damp, but he's recovered much more quickly than we expected him to do."

"I'm glad. I like Berry . I want him to get well."

"I do too. Now, young Pip, why don't you lend a hand with your bags while the servants are busy with your sisters' trunks - I swear they must have brought their entire wardrobes!" It was true that the mound of trunks and bags that was being unloaded from the wagon seemed to indicate that the Took girls were planning to stay for three months rather than a few days - or else they intended to change their outfits a dozen times a day, something that Pippin, for one, didn't put past them.

"They're impossible," he agreed. "Which room will be mine?"

Merry grinned and Esme's eyes twinkled. "Since the Hall is going to be rather crowded, I thought that you would be glad to help out by sharing Merry's room."

Pippin laughed and flung his arms around her again. "Best of aunts! Of course I'll share with Merry - but only because you asked me, of course! Ouch!" This last exclamation resulted from the force of Merry's thump to his back. "Bully!"

"Pipsqueak." Merry leaned over to whisper in his ear: "You can get me back later on."

Pip flashed him a bright smile and grabbed the nearest bag. "Come on then! Let's dump this in your room and go and say hello to Berry ."

* * *

The Red Parlour was one of the warmest in the Hall, and not just because of its colour scheme. The proportions of the room and the position of the fireplace allowed the efficient spread of heat, and it was the room most commonly used to house invalids. It had been the natural choice for Berry's use on his return from Great Smials, and he also had the use of a guest room on the ground floor until such time as he could cope with the two flights of stairs that led to his former bedroom.

Berry was lying on a couch, wrapped in a blanket. He was still pale, and a bit thin, but he was definitely much better than when Pippin had last seen him, a month before. Though the Tuckborough healer had done her best to straighten his broken leg, using weights to provide traction, he had inevitably been left with a slight shortening of his left leg. He had been forbidden to take any weight on the leg for almost three months, with the result that he had also lost a lot of his strength.

He had returned to Buckland at the beginning of Foreyule, in the back of a well-sprung carriage, his leg still splinted and propped up on pillows. Henny Baggott, the Hall's healer, had muttered the usual imprecations on foreign healers when she saw him, but had had no real complaint about his treatment except that he hadn't been up on his feet because of the concurrent fracture in his arm, which had prevented him from using crutches until only a fortnight before his return. With a few pithy words that indicated that Ellis Bellwether was not the only healer in the Shire who had learned a thing or two from the Big People, she had sent for the blacksmith at once and had entered into a long and technical discussion concerning leg length, weight-bearing surfaces, pivot points, and the relative merits of calf and kid leathers. The end result had been delivered only ten days ago: a calliper that took Berry's weight through a pair of metal rods extending from knee to just below the foot, allowing him some mobility while not placing too much strain on the still-healing bone. Berry was still getting used to it, but his spirits had already improved with the increase in independence.

"Ho there, Berry!" called Pippin as they entered. Berry turned his head and gave a broad smile, throwing the blanket aside. Merry hurried in to help him to his feet. Pippin caught sight of the calliper on his leg and two stout ash walking sticks, one of which Berry used now to support his weight.

Pippin hugged him. "How are you?" he asked, looking at the blue eyes that seemed to him to be a little darker than they had been before.

"Oh, getting on famously, Pip." Berry said, in a warm voice. "My aches and pains are improving every week and I'm getting stronger. I am sure that I'll be back to normal come the spring."

"Oh, I hope so."

Merry, his arm still around Berry, said, "I was saying this morning that we'll have to take you on a couple of hikes to get you used to walking again, won't we, Frodo?"

"We will indeed." said Frodo, putting down his pipe and the book from which he had been reading and coming over to hug Pippin in his turn. "Just a gentle turn around the Hall to start with, then a few tramps through Buckland, then you can come over to Bywater and make sure that the ale at the Green Dragon hasn't deteriorated over the winter. By Lithe I'm sure that you'll be fit enough to walk to Michel Delving if you wish."

"I'm sure I will." Berry smiled again, but the shadow in the eyes did not go unnoticed.

"And I could walk over too," Pippin added "Maybe we could even go to Bree. Now that would be an adventure!" The horrified looks on three faces made him burst out in indignant laughter. "Well what's wrong with wanting to go to Bree? It's further than I've ever been before!"

"And further than you're ever likely to go, my sweet," said Merry. "There are Big People in Bree."

"I know! I want to see them!"

"Well, maybe they don't want to see you. Maybe I don't want them to see you. Maybe I'm afraid that they'll take one look at my sweet pippin and snatch you up to make an apple tart and I'll never see you again."

"Or maybe they'll want a Brandybuck trifle and take you instead!" Pippin snickered at his own joke and then turned to Frodo. "How long are you staying?"

"I'm not sure," said Frodo, with a frown. "Only a few days. I don't want to be away from Hobbiton too long at the moment."

"Oh." Pippin could understand why he might not want to be away, but why didn't he sound more happy about it? "How is... everyone?"

"Quite well, thank you for asking."

Frodo's response was a little terse, and Pippin teasingly whispered in his ear: "I'll give you a kiss under the mistletoe for Sam if you like."

"That won't be necessary."

Frodo gave him a quelling look and Pippin subsided. What on earth was wrong with Frodo? Had he quarrelled with Sam?

Berry had returned to the couch and Merry was wrapping the blanket around him again, the touch tender and loving. The thought crossed Pippin's mind fleetingly that Merry and Berry had no doubt spent much time together since Berry's return to the Hall, and there would have been every opportunity for them to resume the affair that had started four years ago. He couldn't really blame them if they had - Berry was still handsome, if pale, and Merry, of course, was irresistible. Merry would comfort him very well, and Pippin told himself that he shouldn't be selfish when Berry was so obviously in need of it. He didn't even feel angry about it, just a little scared, because Berry was so much more experienced, and Pippin sometimes wondered if Merry missed having his older cousin in his bed.

He had no idea that his thoughts could be read so clearly on his face until Berry looked at him and gave him a tiny shake of the head. The message was obvious and Pippin nodded in acknowledgment as he blinked back a tear. Although immensely relieved by Berry's denial, he also felt somehow sad that Berry had no one to call his own now. He himself had Merry, Frodo had Sam, and even Reg had Periwinkle, little though they deserved each other. Only Berry, it seemed, was left to sleep alone.

They remained with Berry for another hour, chatting and playing card games. Afternoon tea was served and Pippin observed that Berry's appetite had improved a little. Other hobbits drifted in and out and conversation became general. Nel and Vinca appeared briefly, in company with Melilot and a couple of girls he didn't recognise - from the looks the girls were giving Berry, Pippin guessed that they had been discussing him upstairs. They simpered and preened in front of the Shire's most eligible bachelors (none of whom cared at all for the honour), but eventually disappeared in a cloud of giggles to change.

* * *

After the long ride and the busy evening, Pippin was glad when Merry suggested that they retire early after dinner. They made their farewells to the Master and Aunt Esme and walked up the stairs, hand in hand.

Merry's room was cosy, with the shutters tightly closed, the hearthfire glowing and the large bed to one side, its comfortable mattress covered in thick blankets and soft quilts. While Pippin closed the door and locked it, Merry put the single candle on the bedside table, then turned back to Pippin and took him in his arms.

"How tired are you?" he asked.

Pippin grinned, his green eyes bright. "Not early as tired as I pretended to be!"

"That's good, because I have plans for this evening."

Pippin snuggled closer. "What sort of plans? he asked, his voice dropping to a purr.

"Plans that involve you, and me, and warm, bare skin, and a bottle of sweet oil."

"Oh, those sorts of plans," Pippin's voice deepened to a growl and he essayed a delicate bite to Merry's ear, noting the shiver it elicited.

"Mmm, more of that, please," murmured Merry, and Pippin was happy to oblige.

* * *

The next day was dull and grey, with a persistent mizzling rain that made everyone feel fractious. Berry felt the damp in his bones and curled up as best he could in the Red Parlour, sipping an infusion of willow-bark. He was on his own, for once, and trying hard to tell himself that he preferred it that way.

Frodo had spent most of the morning with him, but Berry found that Frodo's presence made him feel much more self-conscious than it had at Great Smials. He supposed it was because there he had been bed-ridden and helpless, and he had needed someone around to fetch things for him, to help him sit up and lie down and eat and wash and use the chamberpot. Since his return to Brandy Hall, and particularly since he had been given the calliper, he was able to do much more for himself, and consequently felt much better.

Frodo, on the other hand, seemed to be more attentive than he had been at the Smials, and once he had learnt that Berry had exhausted himself in walking too far, too soon, he had been fussing over him like a hen with one chick. Berry knew that Frodo felt partly responsible for his injury, but he also resented being made to feel more of an invalid than he was already. This morning, his temper had got the better of him and he had told Frodo flatly that he needn't stay, at which point Frodo had gathered up all his dignity and announced his intention of going for a walk.

Berry told himself that he would be happy when Frodo returned to Bag End - and Sam - and he could get on with his own life.

Less than half an hour later, though, Berry was feeling lonely and neglected. Esme and Saradoc rarely troubled him outside mealtimes, and Pippin and Merry had disappeared halfway through the morning - probably for a "nap". The fire was dying down and the effort it would require to go over and replenish the wood on it was a lot more than Berry could contemplate expending at the moment. By the time Gammer Baggott turned up, he had progressed to feeling very sorry for himself, convinced that he would be a cripple and an object of pity for the rest of his life, limping around like a ghost through the dark corridors of the Hall, pointed out to generations of hobbit children as an Awful Example of What Happens When You Don't Listen To Your Aunts.

He looked up as the healer strode into the room, unable to force his features into anything resembling a welcome.

The gammer gave him a withering look and nodded to herself. "Just as I thought, Master Berilac," she said in her brisk, no-nonsense voice. "Sitting here by yourself, brooding and moping and thinking yourself an invalid because you can't run as fast as Master Peregrin."

"Not only can I not run as fast as Pippin, I can't run at all, and well you know it." Berry sounded peevish, and he knew it.

"How are your bones feeling now?"

"The arm is fine, unless I use the sticks too much, but the leg is aching."

"When did you last go for a walk?"

"Outside? About three days ago. I walked around the kitchen gardens, but I think I overdid it. I got blisters under the knee."

"Yes, young Mister Baggins mentioned it to me when I met him in the grounds just now."

Berry grimaced at this new evidence of Frodo's interference, but held his tongue.

"Did you put the ointment on this morning?"

"Yes, and Im taking the calliper off whenever I'm lying down, but that just means more fuss when I do want to get up, and even with the sticks it feels awkward.

"It will feel awkward for months yet, and I have told you that time and time again."

She looked at the blisters and red areas under the knee joint, where the collar of the calliper rubbed against the skin. "I think that you need a lambskin lining until the skin here can toughen up. I'll speak to Mistress Esmeralda about it." She nodded to herself, then turned her attention to the shin. There was a large bony lump in the middle of the leg, where the break had been. The skin over it was stretched and slightly shiny, but not broken. "Are you still tender here?" she asked, pressing lightly.

"Not really. It's more of an ache."

"Hmm." She poked and prodded, checking the muscles, which were sadly wasted, and the skin under the right heel, which had broken down a fortnight after the accident and had taken a long time to heal. "You must get up and about, young Berry. These muscles aren't going to recover without exercise."

"I know." Berry didn't sound very enthusiastic.

"Are you sleeping?"

"More or less."

"How much poppy-juice do you have left?"

"Over half the bottle. I don't use it often."

"Good - but it is there to be used, not to be kept as a decoration. You should know your condition well enough by now that you can tell which nights you need it."

Berry nodded. "Still tastes awful."

"It's supposed to. I wouldn't want anyone to get to like it too much." She replaced the blankets and rose to her feet. "I'll see Mistress Esmeralda about that lambskin. I'll be back on 1st Afteryule to see how you are." She went in search of Esme and Berry was left alone with his thoughts. He eyed the lump on his leg distastefully. The healer had assured him that it would get smaller with time, but it looked unsightly, and Berry wondered if anyone would notice if he got his breeches cut a little longer to cover it.

* * *

Berry hadn't thought that he would be able to sleep, but he woke up (after an odd dream that he couldn't remember clearly) to find Frodo sitting on the floor beside the couch. Frodo was holding Berry's fingers in his right hand, pressing them against his cheek, while in his left there was the inevitable book. As Berry stirred, Frodo looked up.

"Oh, you're awake." He seemed a trifle embarrassed, and let go of Berry's hand. "Your hand was cold - your arm had fallen out from under the blanket."

Berry had an urge to press it back against Frodo's cheek, but controlled himself and tucked it under the blanket instead. It was only more of Frodo's fussing - it didn't mean anything. Still, it reminded him of how Frodo had sat with him when he was a child, when he was ill or hurt. He didn't want to think of that, so instead, he focussed on the book that Frodo still held. "What are you reading?"

"A history of the Great Plague."

"That's a bit morbid, isn't it?"

"It suited my mood."

Frodo's tone was decidedly cool, and Berry felt awkward. He tried another topic. "Did I miss any meals?"

Frodo smiled. "Only lunch. Esme brought you a plate of sandwiches," he indicated the covered dish on the nearby table, "and I can get you a pot of tea if you like."

"I would like, actually." He sat up and let Frodo put more pillows behind him. It felt odd, having him so close. For some reason he was more aware of Frodo's body heat than he had been the day before.

Frodo handed him the plate and hurried off to get tea. It wasn't many minutes at all before he was back with a tray, on which rested teapot, cups, milk, sugar and another plate, this one holding slices of buttered gingerbread. Frodo smiled at him, then said apologetically, "Esme thinks that we both need fattening up!"

Berry laughed and watched Frodo as he set the tray down and poured the tea, adding a little milk and one spoon of sugar... just as he always took it. Frodo handed it to him, saying "I hope I remembered it correctly."

"Yes, that's right." Was it his imagination or did Frodo's hand tremble slightly? Maybe it was just the effort of carrying the tray up from the kitchen. It didn't have to mean anything.

Frodo made his own tea, and Berry counted the sugars... one, two, three... yes, just the same. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't look away as Frodo stirred the sugar through his tea. How could he still look so young? Berry could remember when his cousin had seemed impossibly grown-up to him and now he looked younger than Merry; not only younger but fragile, even vulnerable.

Frodo looked up suddenly and caught his gaze. Berry felt self-conscious and blindly reached for a piece of gingerbread - only to have his hand collide with Frodo's on the same errand. They both laughed in a small, embarrassed way.

Berry spoke first. "It smells very good."

Frodo held up the plate for him. "It is good. I had a piece in the kitchen."

Berry took a slice and bit into it. It was soft and sweet and had lots of ginger, just as he liked it. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the table while he ate, not willing to risk more embarrassment, then drank the rest of his tea. Try as he might, he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Would you like another cup?" Frodo asked politely.

"Yes, thank you," he replied, listening to himself with dismay. What had happened to him? Why was he apparently incapable of conducting an intelligent conversation?

He accepted the refilled cup from Frodo, noting that the saucer shook even more as it passed from Frodo's hand to his. He put it down carefully on his lap before raising the cup to his lips. "Oh!" he exclaimed, as he tasted it. "You forgot the sugar."

Frodo looked mortified and reached out to take the cup at the same time that Berry went to put it down. The result was inevitable: the cup dropped onto the saucer, the impact shattering them both, and hot tea spilled all over the blanket. Berry started up but by mischance his foot caught on a corner of the blanket and he overbalanced, landing heavily with his arm on the edge of the tray and dragging it off the table as he fell to the floor. Frodo snatched at the teapot before it could topple over onto Berry, but his hand slipped off the cosy to the hot surface of the china and with a yelp he dropped it onto his side of the table, whereupon it broke into several pieces. Frodo jumped to avoid the scalding tea, knocking his chair over, but the chair leg caught him behind the knee and he fell backwards in a tangle of limbs and splintered wood.

All was quiet for a moment, the two hobbits lying almost nose to nose on the floor. Frodo looked at Berry, and Berry looked at Frodo, and they both looked at the havoc that had arisen in the space of a few seconds. Berry felt a bubble of laughter welling up inside him and his face twitched. Within moments, he saw a matching expression in Frodo's face and before he knew it, they were laughing hysterically. It seemed to him that there had never been a funnier sight in all his life than the two of them rolling around on the floor, covered in milk and gingerbread and bits of wood.

He had no idea how they appeared to the astounded hobbits who hurried into the room a few seconds later, but he didn’t really care. He hadn't laughed with Frodo like this since they had been children together, and it was worth a little pain: after all, he had Gammer Baggott's poppy-juice to help him sleep. He was sorry about the ruined gingerbread, though.

* * *

1st Yule itself was a day of chaos and confusion. There was rain and wind, but no snow, and the children, kept indoors, were running off their energy in the corridors and up and down the stairs. Esme hurried from room to room, growing red in the face from her exertions, harrying the servants and bullying all the relatives she could find into helping with preparations for the Yule luncheon (which was fully expected to extend into afternoon tea and dinner as well). Presents were starting to pile up in the parlours and the main hall, and it looked set to be a very splendid Yule indeed.

Pippin and Merry had exchanged gifts in private that morning. Merry gave Pippin a wooden box with a lock, large enough to hold a book or two (not that Pippin would ever have a book so valuable that he would need to lock it up) or letters, or any number of small treasures. Pippin was well-pleased, since he had become increasingly worried that Vinca or Nel might find where he had hidden his letters from Merry and he knew that he could expect no mercy from either of them if they did.

Pippin gave Merry a pipe, a particularly well-made one in a delicate rosewood. Merry was delighted, as he had been using his second-best pipe since the accident.

"Thank you, love," he said, as he gave his lover a kiss. "I'll try and keep this one safe!"

"I have something else as well."

"Another present?"

"Well, yes, but not really. I can't give it to you as a real present because it's for both of us."

Merry raised an eyebrow. "That sounds interesting. Will I like it?"

"I think you will," Pippin grinned as he reached into his bag and brought out a small bundle, wrapped in bright fabric and tied with a ribbon. "Open it."

Merry untied the ribbon and folded back the fabric. It was a small glass bottle, very dark. When he held it up to the light the glass shone blue, like sapphire. "It's beautiful."

Pippin giggled. "It's what's in the bottle, silly. Open it."

Merry took out the stopper and sniffed. The scent was spicy, green, woody, with a hint of musk. He touched the liquid on the stopper and realised that it was oil; a very fine oil that felt silky on his fingers. He noted how the scent bloomed from the warmth of his skin. Merry smiled in wonder: Pippin had given him scented oil for Yule. "It is beautiful. Where did you get it?"

"A trader. He got it from Big People. It's from Harad - at least that's what the trader said. I thought we could use it for special occasions."

Merry replaced the stopper and set the bottle down carefully before taking his lover into his arms. "Every time I'm with you is a special occasion. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now kiss me and promise me we'll use it tonight."

"I promise."

* * *

It wasn't turning out to be a good day for Berry, who found that, since his accident, he didn't tolerate noise and bustle as well as he used to. Children, in particular, were annoying, though he wasn't sure if it was their noisiness or the fear that one of them would knock him over in their haste. After rising late and finding that breakfast was being cleared away early in preparation for luncheon, he was making his way back to the Red Parlour, shuffling along the corridor with calliper and two sticks, refusing all offers of assistance and growing more crotchety by the minute.

When he finally reached the Red Parlour, he found it already occupied by several hobbits (several of whom he knew and didn't like), mostly those who lived close enough that they were only visiting for the day. He was furious with Esme for allowing them to use his room - he had occupied it every day since returning to the Hall, and she should have known that he would need it today. He made his way to the Yellow Parlour, only to discover, too late, that all his least favourite relatives were there. It took him an hour to extricate himself from their exclamations, protestations of sympathy, and overly inquisitive questions on the precise cause of his fall - as if they didn't know already, the gossip-mongers of Tuckborough being legendary within the Shire.

Following the corridor, he came to the back parlour, but there, as was usually the case, the tweens were holding court - literally and figuratively. Last year he had spent quite a bit of time with them, enjoying his status as Wicked Cousin Berry, the Rake of the Shire. This year their looks were pitying, rather than admiring, and he hurried on by - well, hobbled as fast as he could.

He reached the end of the corridor and wondered where to go next. His leg was starting to hurt - apart from the unfortunate expedition into the kitchen gardens, this was actually the longest distance he had travelled on foot in over three months - and he had no idea where to find Frodo or Merry or Pippin. Even Uncle Saradoc or his father would have been welcome company after the ministrations of Great-Aunt Asphodel.

"Oh, there you are, Berry!" He turned to see Pippin running towards him. "We've been looking all over for you. Merry found some ghastly types in your parlour and we had a terrible job moving them out. Frodo's holding them off for the moment, but if we don't get you back there he may be overrun. Come on."

Berry turned and walked back with Pippin, who continued to chatter throughout the long minutes that it took to reach the Red Parlour. The door was closed and wouldn't open to Pippin's hand. "Hoy! Frodo!" he shouted. "It's Pippin, and I've found Berry. Let us in!"

There was the sound of someone moving furniture and then the door opened to reveal a rather flushed Frodo. He stepped back and let them in, closing the door firmly again. Berry glanced at the table that had obviously been doing duty as a barricade. It looked quite heavy.

"Sorry about that." Frodo was apologetic as he helped Berry to the couch. "Someone tried to get through the connecting door from the dining room and I couldn't guard two doors at once."

"Where's Merry?" asked Pippin.

"Haven't a clue. Last seen being dragged away by Esme to do the pretty to some elderly relatives."

"Poor thing. I'd better go and rescue him. Don't forget to bar the door behind me - Fort Berilac must be held against all invaders!" Pippin winked at them and disappeared.

Frodo dutifully barricaded the door again and sat down by the couch. "Would you like that calliper removed? You must have been in it for ages." He reached forward but was pushed away by Berry.

"I can do it. My hands still work."

"Sorry. I was only trying to help."

"I don't need help." There was a rather loud silence for a few moments.

Frodo sat down. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then obviously thought better of it, and instead looked determinedly at the fireplace.

Berry muttered an apology. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to be rude. I only meant that I don't need help with this particular task. I find that I've become rather insistent on doing the few things that I can still do."

Frodo seemed relieved. "I understand. Well, I don't really, because I've never had a broken leg like you, in fact, I've never had a broken bone at all, and I've never had to rely on other people for everything. Well, not physically, that is, I'm not counting being orphaned and being taken in by Uncle Rory or Cousin Bilbo. But I can imagine it, and it must be awful." Frodo stopped suddenly, as if astonished at the uncharacteristic chatter. Berry continued to undo the buckles.

There was silence for a few minutes, punctuated by the creak of leather and the jangle of metal on metal as the calliper was removed and set down on the floor. Trying not to rub at the sore areas, Berry glanced at Frodo, who was now staring at the carpet on the floor. It was a rather pleasant design of roses and vines, but not something that would normally hold Frodo's attention for longer than it took to note that the pattern was, indeed, one of roses and vines, and furthermore, that it was growing threadbare in places. Berry wondered what he could be thinking.

After a few more seconds, Frodo spoke without looking up. "We looked for you. I was starting to get worried when we couldn't find you."

"I was trapped in the Yellow Parlour with some of the aunts for over an hour. That's probably when you were looking for me."

"An hour in the Yellow Parlour? That's more than any sane hobbit can bear."

"Well, I think I managed to escape with my sanity but my temper was certainly lost. I actually ended up telling them to mind their own business!"

"What were they asking about?" Too late, Frodo realised what a stupid question it had been and felt that he deserved the scathing look he received. "Sorry."

"I don't see why my private life has to involve everyone in the Shire."

Embarrassed he might be, but not even Frodo could let that opening go by. "From what I hear, Berry, your private life actually does involve everyone in the Shire!"

"Not quite everyone!"

It was lightly said and they both laughed, but as their eyes met, Berry saw that Frodo was looking at him in a rather odd, intense way and he realised that Frodo, of all hobbits, might well read more into his words than he intended... or he might take them at face value, and Berry honestly didn't know which would be worse.

He was saved from further introspection and probable embarrassment by the knock at the door. Pippin had rescued Merry from the elderly relatives and had forestalled Aunt Esme's attempt to have them both help with the children by sacrificing Berry's independence and insisting that they were needed to help him negotiate the crowds that would be at the luncheon.

There were tables set up in the dining room for close family, and in the main hall for everyone else, but Frodo suggested that the four of them would have a better time if they kept to the Red Parlour and saw to it that Berry had everything he needed without having to risk the crowds at all. Merry and Pippin concurred and proved to be very talented at waylaying the trays of food that made their way from the kitchens and appropriating the choicest morsels for their injured cousin.

Berry, for his part, acquiesced with as good a grace as he could muster, since after his experiences that morning he was grateful that he didn't have to negotiate the innumerable hobbits who were milling from room to room. Instead, he sat on the couch with his cousins around him, trying to ignore the ache in his leg and the residual clumsiness of his right arm, while he enjoyed the food that appeared in front of him.

The meal was astounding, as always. There was no smial or burrow in the Shire that could beat Brandy Hall for its hospitality (except, perhaps, Great Smials), and since this year was Saradoc's first Yule as Master, Esme had determined to make it a memorable one. As well as the roasted meats, there were meat pies and cold cuts and casseroles, along with potatoes and carrots and turnips and parsnips and cabbage, all to be smothered in rich brown gravy. To follow that, there were fruit pies and sweet pastries and jam roly-poly and trifles and luscious thick cream. For filling up the corners there was tea or hot chocolate or ale, with small jam tarts and iced cakes and sweet oatmeal biscuits. For those who had no sweet tooth (or who had over-indulged), there were nuts and savoury biscuits and sharp, crumbly cheeses.

Not even the most ill-tempered of hobbits could remain grumpy under the influence of such a feast, and Berry was by no means naturally ill-tempered. Once fed, and with the ache inhis leg easing off, his good humour returned and before long he was laughing and joking with them all.

As the afternoon progressed, and various others decided that a little gentle exercise was required to help make room for the desserts that were appearing, a few of the more congenial cousins were admitted to the parlour, and by tea time Berry was holding court as Wicked Cousin Berry once more. He wasn't sure at what point Frodo had slipped away - he had been telling some scurrilous story and had looked to Frodo for confirmation, but Frodo wasn't there. He continued on with his tale, but somehow a little of the zest had gone.

Pippin and Merry came and went, still carrying food and drink, but at some stage they must also have been waylaid by parents or relatives (or decided to take another "nap") as the cosy group of cousins became a more boisterous group of tweens who seemed to view the Red Parlour as an annex to the back parlour that they usually occupied.

To make things worse, presents started appearing, making him feel uncomfortable since he had not prepared anything in return. He knew that no one really expected him to make or buy presents himself - after all, he had been in bed for over two months, and, since arriving back at Brandy Hall a month ago, he had had no opportunity (nor, to be truthful, the inclination) to visit a market. Still, the increasingly large pile beside his couch made him feel that he really should have made the effort.

As afternoon was replaced by evening, he felt exhausted and in desperate need of solitude. He reapplied his calliper, pleading the need to take a walk to the privy. He stood by the door for a while, chatting to Freddy and Estella, then slipped out.

On his way back from the privy, he narrowly avoided being knocked over by a pair of children who were playing some chasing game. Though he didn't fall, he was shaken for a moment, and this, combined with the invasion of his parlour and the prospect of receiving more unwanted presents, made him determined not to return there but to escape to his room.

He turned a corner and was surprised to see Frodo walking towards him.

"Stel said you'd taken a trip to the privy. I thought you might need someone to help fight off the orcs and goblins that seem to have taken over the corridors."

"I did have a narrow escape a couple of minutes ago. They just never seem to look where they're going."

"Well, I'll make sure you get back to the Red Parlour safely."

"That's not necessary." Berry knew he was bristling again, and was sorry for it, so when Frodo started to apologise, he cut him off. "Actually," he continued, in a milder tone, "I'd rather not go back there - it's been a long day and I'm tired. I was going to go back to my room but it means going by the back corridors if I'm to avoid the crowds, and I can't hold a candle and two sticks at the same time." He paused. "I would appreciate your help."

"Of course, cousin. Wait here and I'll fetch a candlestick." Frodo hurried off, returning in a couple of minutes with a candlestick and a new white candle. He lit the candle from one of the wall lamps and they proceeded through the deep corridors of Brandy Hall to the East Wing, where the guest rooms were.

It was a slow and mostly silent journey. They encountered no one except one of the Hall's cats (who passed them by in disdainful silence) and arrived at Berry's room without injury. Frodo opened the door wide and went in first, putting the candlestick on Berry's table while Berry made his way more slowly through the doorway.

Frodo turned back to face his cousin and paused, his hand slipping into his jacket pocket. "I'm glad that I was able to see you to your room. I have something for you."

"Not another present?" It was a sharp and bitter comment, and Frodo appeared disconcerted.

Berry realised he had spoken out loud and apologised. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's just that everyone seems to have decided that Poor Cousin Berry is a Deserving Cause. I've had presents from people I haven't spoken to in five years or more. And to make it worse, I haven't anything to give back. I didn't even think of it until people started arriving a couple of days ago." He dug the tip of one walking stick into the floor to cover his embarrassment.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that." Frodo hesitated, then dropped the package back into his pocket. "Well, then, not to worry, I won't embarrass you. Sleep well." He gave his cousin a quick kiss on the cheek and was gone before Berry had a chance to react.

Berry sat down on the bed, staring at the door. He wondered what Frodo would have given him and could have kicked himself for having spoken so bitterly; now he would never know. And why could he still feel the brush of Frodo's lips? He touched his cheek, then looked at his fingers as if he expected some visible evidence to remain.

"Idiot!" he told himself. "It was just goodnight."

He lifted his leg onto the bed and started to unbuckle the calliper.

* * *

The New Year dawned late and grey. It was quieter all over the smial: the adults were largely sleeping off the indulgences of the day before; the tweens found odd corners to tryst in, and the children kept mostly to the back rooms. There was no large gathering for lunch or dinner, as meals were always informal on 2nd Yule. There were leftovers, of course, and bread and cheese and pickles, but it had long been the custom to have no hot meal, so that the cooks could have a day's rest.

Frodo, Merry, Berry and Pippin went for a short walk through the park, which Berry tolerated better than he had expected, thanks largely to the new lambskin lining of the calliper. For most of the day, though, they stayed in the Red Parlour (which they continued to call "Fort Berilac", in reference to Frodo's heroic efforts of the day before), talking or playing card games and shooing out anyone else who had the temerity to enter.

Berry caught himself looking at Frodo once or twice, wondering what might have happened if he hadn't been so abrupt the night before. He tried to put it from his mind and concentrate on the games, but that was easier said than done. His thoughts kept drifting back over the last three months, recalling that they had played cards when Frodo had visited him while he was still bedridden at Great Smials. Frodo was a good card player, with a talent for remembering which cards had been played, and Berry had enjoyed their matches against each other. Even better had been the matches which paired them against Pippin and Vinca, or, once, against Eglantine and the Thain. They had made a good team, he and Frodo, and he had even caught himself wondering, if that might apply to other pursuits. But Frodo had only stayed two days before going home to Hobbiton, and in Hobbiton there was Sam, with his blond hair, his freckles, his rosy cheeks, and his sturdy frame. No, there was nothing more to Frodo's visit than a sense of guilt at his involvement in the accident. He was sure of that. It would be foolish to think that it might be any more than that.

His concentration lapsed, and he played badly. Merry, his partner this evening, forgave him readily, saying he was probably still tired from the day before, but Berry still felt guilty that he hadn't been able to play better. They spent the last hour just talking quietly, gossiping and talking of things they had seen on their travels, until Merry decided that Pippin, who had been dozing for the last twenty minutes, would be more comfortable in bed than curled up against his knees.

While Merry led a still-sleepy Pippin up the stairs, Frodo escorted Berry to his room, though this evening there were few enough children in the corridors to warrant it. To Berry's astonishment, Frodo again brought out the small package from his jacket pocket, but this time he put it down on the bedside table, beside the candlestick. "I was thinking," he said, rather diffidently, "that this isn't a Yule gift after all. It's a belated birthday present, so you needn't return the favour until Rethe - if you want to, that is. You don't have to." He seemed a little unsure of himself and stepped back towards the door.

Berry reached out a hand towards it. "Thank you."

"You don't have to open it now. It's not much, but I thought you might like it."

"Oh."

"Well, then. I'd better go. Do you need a hand with anything?"

"No, no, I can manage. Thank you."

"I'll say goodnight then." He turned to the door.

"Frodo -"

"Yes?"

Berry took a step forward, feeling indescribably awkward with his sticks, and kissed Frodo's cheek. "Goodnight, cousin. Umm... thank you for the present." He stepped back, nearly stumbling, blushing furiously.

Frodo didn't seem to notice, probably because he was looking at the floor. "You're welcome. Well, then. Er - Goodnight." He stepped through the door and was gone. Again.

Berry stood without moving for a few seconds. His breathing was laboured and his heart was racing so fast that he felt faint. He was mortified at his clumsiness - he, who was usually so cool and in control, had been blushing like a tweenager.

"I can't believe this!" he berated himself. "Berilac Brandybuck! What is wrong with you? You've tumbled every willing hobbit in the Four Farthings and you can't give your cousin a simple kiss without falling over your own two feet! Idiot!"

He leaned backwards onto the wall, staring at nothing, for several minutes, but came to no conclusions - at least, none that he wished to consider. After a few minutes more of non-productive mental effort, he dragged himself onto the bed and removed the calliper. As he reached for the ointment, he caught sight of the present on the table. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It looked very much like a book. After untying the ribbon, he unfolded the plain parchment wrapper and then stopped, astonished. Inside was a book, as he had suspected, but not just any book: this book was "Bilbo and the Dragon", the tale that Frodo had told him over and over when he was little. He flicked through the pages, admiring the neat, clear handwriting and the exquisite illustrations. He hadn't seen Frodo's hand in nearly twenty years, but it had to be his work: no one else knew the story well enough to write it down except Bilbo himself. He went back to the flyleaf and saw, in the same neat hand, Frodo's inscription: To my cousin Berry, in memory of the treasure-hunt, with love and affection, Frodo.

The treasure-hunt... how could he have forgotten that? He had been eight and Frodo fourteen. They had been sent to Bag End for some reason - he couldn't remember why, now, but it might have had something to do with baby Merry being ill again - and for the first time he had heard Bilbo tell the story.

It had been a wondrous tale, to be sure, but the best part about it had been trying to guess where Bilbo had hidden the treasure after he had returned to Bag End. That night he and Frodo had talked about it, going over and over the hints that Bilbo had made about where the treasure might be.

They had decided, between them, that the treasure was hidden behind one of the bookcases and had commenced an excavation the next day, while Bilbo was out. Bilbo had not looked at all pleased when he returned and found a hole a foot wide in the wall. He had muttered dire imprecations on curious hobbits who would undoubtedly come to a bad end, but, after all, the damage wasn't too serious, and a day's plastering and whitewash had restored the wall to its former state. The hardest part had been putting all the books back - "in their proper order" as Bilbo had insisted - which had taken two days. Frodo had been sure that Bilbo's "proper order" was not the same order they had been in before, but it hardly mattered.

Bilbo had fed them sticky buns and toffees when they had finished and had told them the story all over again, only differently, and this time they had decided that the treasure had to be in the cellar... They had waited two days in eager impatience for Bilbo's next trip to the market and had raced for the key the moment he was safely down the hill. Luckily for them, Frodo had caught on to Bilbo's stratagem as soon as he had seen the state of the cellar and had brought them back up the stairs, laughing fit to burst, and taken Berry hunting for caterpillars instead. They had been sitting in the kitchen drinking cocoa when Bilbo returned, and Berry still remembered the look of limpid innocence that Frodo had conjured up after Bilbo had been "to check the potato sacks". Bilbo hadn't been fooled, not for one moment, but he had always treated Frodo with a measure of respect after that.

Frodo had told and retold the tale to him many times after they had returned to Brandy Hall. Berry remembered how they would snuggle up in the cold winter evenings with cocoa or hot milk and Frodo would weave his magic with words, until Berry could actually see the dragon's lair and the heaps of shining gold and Bilbo the Brave, trading witty remarks with the Dreadful Smaug in his diamond waistcoat.

Berry ran a finger over the inscription: ...with love and affection... It was good of Frodo to think of something that would remind him of happier times. He wrapped the book up again in the parchment and put it carefully in the drawer. He would have to thank him properly in the morning.

He took the ointment and dressed all the raw areas, which were starting to heal at last, then got undressed and into bed. Tomorrow he would ask Frodo to walk with him, just a short walk. He would tell him how much he had enjoyed the book and they would start to talk about things they had done as children and then... well, then they would see.

He was smiling as he fell asleep.

* * *

Berry was up in good time for second breakfast and sat at the table, humming with anticipation, as he waited for Frodo to turn up. After an hour, he was starting to get a little annoyed and hoping that this wasn't going to be one of those days when Frodo didn't appear until elevenses - or lunch.

It wasn't until he commented on Frodo's absence that Merry broke the news to him. "Didn't you know? He left early this morning, with the Goolds - they have to be back in Michel Delving by the third. They had a spare place in their carriage and said they'd drop him off at Bywater." He grinned. "I think he wanted to get back to Sam."

Pippin frowned. "I'm not so sure."

"Why?"

"He hasn't mentioned Sam at all since he's been here, and when I asked after him, that first day I was here, he went all cold and polite. Frodo at his worst."

"Maybe he just thought you were being inquisitive - you know he's always hated people prying into his private life."

"Probably because most of the time he doesn't have one."

"Well, he does now."

"So you say."

There was a clatter of sticks as Berry tried to rise from the chair. In the confusion that resulted from three hobbits trying to retrieve two sticks from under one table no one noticed that his face was redder than usual or that his hands shook.

"I think I'll take a turn around the park."

"We'll come with you," Pippin said promptly, handing him the sticks.

"There's no need. I won't go far." He forced a smile. "Honestly, this calliper is very comfortable now and I need the exercise. I'll just walk to the oak tree and back. Once I can do that two or three times, I'll be ready for a longer trip."

Merry clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll make sure the parlour is warm and ready for you when you come back."

"Thank you." This smile was genuine, but faded the moment he was out of the room. It didn't take him long to throw on a coat, but there were still a few moments of awkwardness as he negotiated the heavy front door. Finally he was out into the open, but he was oblivious to the coolness of the air or the faint crunch of frost beneath his feet. He didn’t even notice how well he was moving or how quickly he reached the oak.

The news of Frodo's abrupt departure had shaken him badly. Frodo hadn't even mentioned leaving when he had said goodnight. Had he known, then? Or had the decision been made later, after Berry had kissed him? It was only on the cheek, but what if Frodo had thought that… thought that… ?

"Oh, bollocks!" said Berry out loud as he swung a walking stick against the tree trunk. Naturally the stick broke.

"Now, then, Master Berilac, you may be in a bad temper, and I wouldn't blame you if you were, but you needn't take it out on the trees!" Gammer Baggott strode across the grass towards him. "Though I suppose I should thank you for saving me the walk around the Hall. How's the leg doing? Looks like you are getting out and about a bit more. Does the lambskin make a difference?"

Berry controlled himself with an effort. "Yes, it does. Thank you. It's much more comfortable now."

"Good. You'll probably find that it aches a bit more in the evenings now, simply because you've been up more. Try and put the leg up in the afternoons if you can, to let the blood drain."

"I'll do that."

"Are the rubbed areas healing?"

"Yes, they are. I might need some more ointment though."

"I'll send some over this afternoon or tomorrow. What about poppy-juice?"

"No, I still have that half-bottle."

"Excellent." She bent over and picked up the pieces of the ruined walking stick and pressed them into his right hand. "Well, I'll leave you to your exercise and pop in to see Mistress Eglantine. I'll come over again in a few days and see how you are going... with just one stick. Left hand." Her eyes twinkled and she strode off.

Berry looked at the bits of splintered wood in his right hand and the sole remaining walking stick in his left. Slowly he made his way back to the Hall. It wasn't too bad with one stick, now that he could take about half his weight through the calliper. On impulse, he turned around and headed back for the tree, accomplishing another lap. Cheered, he headed back inside for elevenses.

* * *

That evening, it was the sheerest bad luck that Berry was making his way slowly back to the Yellow Parlour, where he had been chatting with Esme and Saradoc, only five minutes after Minto Burrows had fixed the mistletoe to the lintel. For the last 24 hours it had been over the main staircase, and no one had expected it to move until the early hours of the morning, but he was annoyed with himself for not having kept his guard up. After bestowing a suitably chaste kiss on a blushing Minto, he was adjusting his grip on his walking stick when Merry, his attention drawn back into the room by something his father was saying, tried to exit and bumped into him. Berry staggered but Merry grabbed an arm and steadied him.

Merry was alerted to the mistletoe by a high-pitched giggle from the side. "Oh, Minto, you little pest! You're fast becoming worse than Pippin was at your age! Now scarper before I decide to tell Mosco who actually wrote that note to Melilot." Minto promptly scarpered, having no desire to incur the wrath of both Merry and Mosco.

Merry closed the parlour door and turned back to Berry. "Was I ever that bad?"

"You were worse. Still, you turned out all right, in the end."

"I'm surprised you never strangled me."

"I was tempted, once or twice."

Merry smiled. "Oh, well, I suppose we'd better not risk the anger of Yavanna by ignoring the mistletoe." He tilted his chin up and gave Berry the mandatory kiss. Though it started out as a mere touch on the lips, it seemed that neither of them wanted to draw away immediately. Merry's hand stole up to Berry's shoulder, while Berry's free hand brushed over Merry's waist. They stood there, unmoving, for a few seconds before letting go.

Berry smiled broadly as the kiss ended, but kept holding onto Merry's waist. "Ah, Merry, sweetest of all my cousins, that was a fine kiss."

"I'm glad to hear it. And I do believe that's the first real smile you've given me all day."

"Well, it hasn't been a good day."

"No, I could tell you were out of sorts. I wondered if it was because Frodo left so suddenly."

"Not at all."

The answer was quick - too quick, decided Merry. "I only thought, because he's been spending a lot of time with you... I've been distracted by Pippin, you see, and I was glad that you weren't being left on your own."

"I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of getting around without Frodo. I don't need him, or his help, or his presents."

"Ah." Merry decided not to pursue the topic, but hugged Berry close for a few second more. He was starting to move out of the embrace when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder and turned, to find Pippin at his elbow. He felt a sudden pang of guilt but then realised that Pippin, far from being hurt or angry, looked happy to see them both. More than that - Pippin put his arms around both of them and joined the hug.

"You look very cosy together. Did I miss something?"

Berry smiled. "A mistletoe kiss." He pointed to the guilty foliage above the lintel. "I think Minto moved it."

Pippin protested loudly. "Don't I get one, too?"

Merry scolded him affectionately. "You get far too many kisses as it is. I've never known anyone with such a talent for being where the mistletoe is - even when you haven't moved it yourself!"

Pippin giggled and looked knowingly at Berry. "But it comes in useful sometimes. Mistletoe kisses can be very educational!" So saying, he snuggled up against Berry until he was approximately under the mistletoe and then tilted his chin up expectantly.

Berry smiled, but looked to Merry for permission before giving Pippin a sweet and gentle kiss on the lips. Pippin scowled in mock-insult. "Call that a kiss? I've had better from my sisters!"

"Oh, ho! Fighting words, young Took!" And with that, Berilac took Pippin's chin in his hand and proceeded to deliver a kiss that was neither sweet nor gentle, nor likely to end any time soon.

Merry grinned and stepped in close. "I would just like to remind you that Pippin is my lover, you know."

"And he's a credit to you, lad," Berry chuckled, pulling out of the kiss and trying to recover his breath. "He's a much better kisser than he was last Yule - and he wasn't bad then, either."

Pippin didn't speak but reached for Merry's mouth and kissed his lover as deeply as he had kissed Berry.

"You taste alike," he explained, when he finally came up for air, "but not the same. It's interesting."

Berry gave an odd little smile and kissed them each on the nose. "I'm going to sit down and rest my leg. And I think you two had better get upstairs before you start scandalising the household again."

Merry grinned. "An excellent idea, don't you think, Pippin?"

Pippin blinked, then said, "What?" as he tore his gaze away from Berry.

"Bedtime," whispered Merry.

Pippin gave a cheeky smile and butted his head on Merry's shoulder. "Here I am, all grown up, and you still think you can tell me when to go to bed!"

"Ah, but now you actually agree with me... which you never did when you were little."

"Well, bedtime is a lot more exciting now." Pippin sounded a touch distracted and Merry realised that he was watching Berry as he walked back into the parlour.

"What is it, love?"

Pippin lowered his voice. "I think Berry needs a good tumble. He looks very sad. He tasted sad."

"Well, you might be right." Now that Merry thought about it, Berilac probably hadn't lain with anyone since the accident. He wondered if any of Berry's past lovers were in the Hall at the moment, and if they might be interested. "Who do you suggest we talk to, sweetheart?"

Pippin blushed. "Actually... I thought that... perhaps... you and I..."

Merry raised an eyebrow. He couldn't possibly have heard aright. "You and I... and Berry?"

"Yes." Pippin's whisper was barely audible. "I know he wants you and you want him, and I know you would never do it, because you said you wouldn't. And... well, I want him too, but not like I want you, it's more that we have so much and he has been so good to us, and helped us both, and now he needs something that we have, and it seems so selfish not to share..."

Merry was astonished. Of all the things Pippin might have said, this was the least expected... except it wasn't, not really, because Pippin had always had a generous heart, and even as a child he had been happy to share his playthings and his friends. But how could he feel the same way about this? Did he know how Merry felt about this? Merry loved Pippin, but he had never lost his fondness for Berry and, while he would never have betrayed Pippin, he couldn't deny to himself that the idea of having both of them at once had been a secret and guilty fantasy of his for months. The thought that now it might become reality was intoxicating - overwhelming - and his body had responded instantly. Merry swallowed, fighting an insane urge to throw Pippin against the wall and ravish him until he couldn't walk.

"Are you sure?" he managed to say, his voice catching.

"I'm sure."

Merry pulled him into a kiss, pressing himself against Pippin's body, making sure that Pippin could feel his arousal. "I love you, Pip. You are so generous, lover-mine."

They broke apart as a group of tweens came through the hall, jeering and laughing as they saw the couple, jostling each other and giggling even more as the mistletoe was sighted.

Merry dragged Pippin down the main East Wing corridor until he was sure they could talk undisturbed.

"But what if he doesn't want to?"

Pippin gave him a pitying look. "I just kissed him. He wants me. And he always wants you."

"I meant, what if he doesn't agree? It doesn't matter if he actually desires us - he may simply not want to lie with us." And at the gleam in Pippin's eye he added hurriedly, "And no, you will not tie him up!"

Pippin challenged him. "No? It worked last time."

"No."

Pippin sighed, but conceded the point. "All right, no tying him up. Tickling?" He reached a hand under Merry's waistcoat in illustration.

"We'll just ask him, that's all." Merry grasped Pippin's hands firmly and pulled them to the front, out of mischief's way. "If he says yes, then we can work out when and where."

"It'll have to be his room. He'd never make it up the stairs."

"You're right. I wonder if he has supplies?"

"I doubt it. Whatever he has is probably in his old room upstairs, not down here. Wait here, I'll get what we need." He was out of Merry's arms and halfway up the corridor before Merry had a chance to draw breath, then ran back to ask, "Does he like honey?"

Merry pulled himself together and racked his brain. "Yes - yes, he does."

Pippin grinned. "Good. Go and get some." He was off again at breakneck speed. Merry shook his head and headed for the kitchen, where he managed to snare a pot of honey without embarrassing himself too much, though from the maid's knowing smile he guessed that she had a fair idea what he was going to use it for.

They met again at the foot of the stairs and, after lighting one of the candles that were laid out ready on the nearby table, they made their way quietly to the East Wing. At least the smial was not as crowded as it had been the week before, and Merry was fairly sure that the room beyond Berry's was now empty.

They knocked first, but after hearing no reply they opened the door and went in. The room was empty. Merry placed the candle and the pot of honey on the bedside table while Pippin emptied out his bundle onto the bed. Out tumbled the vial of sweet oil, some cloths, and a linen bandage. Merry raised an eyebrow at the last item and Pippin said hurriedly, "Only if he wants to. Or maybe you..."

"If anyone gets tied up tonight it will be you, pest, so don't push your luck." Merry picked the items up and placed them neatly with the others on the table. Then he hoisted himself onto the bed and beckoned to Pippin, who scrambled eagerly into his arms. "We'll wait for him here, and if he doesn't want to, we'll leave. Understood?"

"Yes. But he'll want to." Pippin's confidence was unshakeable. He gave Merry a kiss that tingled through them both, then settled into his cousin's arms and yawned. "Promise me you'll wake me if I fall asleep?"

"I promise."

Merry amused himself by counting the number of breaths it took for Pippin to fall asleep: it didn't take long, only seven breaths in all. Then he leaned back on the pillow and waited.

He must have dozed off himself, because he woke as the door opened. Berry took one step into the room before he caught sight of the pair on the bed, and in the instant before his face set, Merry could see how tired and strained he looked. Pippin had been right - Berry needed this.

He put a finger to his lips as Berry opened his mouth, no doubt to ask them exactly what they thought they were doing, and gestured to the lad sleeping soundly on his chest. Berry grimaced, but said nothing until he stood by the bed, by which time he had regained a little composure.

"Lose your way, did you? Or could you not wait to get upstairs?" The words were faintly mocking and Merry felt uncomfortable. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. He took a moment to consider his words.

"We were waiting for you."

"For me? How nice."

"Don't be so catty."

"Merry, I'm tired, my leg hurts, my back hurts, and all I want to do is lie down and sleep, though I doubt I'll be able to. I'm not in the mood for tweener games tonight." There was an edge to his voice that warned Merry he wasn't teasing.

Merry kept his tone light. "You don't have to be. I told Pippin we'd ask you, that's all. If you don't want to, we'll go." He added a touch of malice as he said, "But you have to tell Pippin you don't want him."

Berry looked at the cherubic face: the long eyelashes, the delicate upper lip, the soft brown curls... the boy was heartbreakingly beautiful. He bent and took a lock of hair between finger and thumb, noting the fine texture, then ran his finger over the ear and down the jaw. Pippin stirred but didn't wake. Berry's expression softened.

"It seems a shame to wake him." He made to go. "Old Cousin Hasrubel has gone back to Deephollow - I'll sleep next door."

Merry stopped him. "Berry, please. Even if you don't want to lie with us, let us at least make you feel a bit more comfortable. Gammer Baggott gave you some poppy-juice, didn't she?"

"Yes, but I hate the taste and I don't have any jam..." His eyes followed Merry's to the bedside table and he caught sight of the collected items there: oil, cloths, bandage, (bandage?) and... honey. They had brought honey. He started to laugh. Merry did, too, and the movement roused Pippin, who lifted his head, blindly seeking Merry's lips before he was even fully awake.

"Mmm?"

"Here, love." Merry gave him a quick kiss, then sat them both upright. "Berry's here."

Pippin opened his eyes and Berry couldn't help but be flattered at the look of delight that crossed Pippin's face and the way he was instantly enveloped in a warm hug. He brought his arms up to steady Pippin, who was wobbling on the soft mattress, and rested his head on Pippin's shoulder for a moment. It felt very comfortable.

Merry slid out of the bed and walked over to the washstand, where he found the poppy-juice was in a small dark bottle next to a medicine glass. He took out the stopper. "How much?"

"To the first mark. You can add it to water if you want, but it doesn't taste any better. I usually throw it down and then take a spoonful of honey or jam to get rid of the taste. If there is any." He sat down on the edge of the bed, Pippin still leaning against him.

Merry grinned. "Honey we have." He walked around the bed to Berry and poured out a measure of the oily-looking liquid. Handing it over, he reached for the honey and had a spoonful ready for him as soon as Berry had swallowed. Berry let the honey roll around his mouth, killing the bitterness, before swallowing. He gave Merry a grateful smile.

Pippin looked concerned. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Yes, he is," Merry answered for him. "And he isn't well enough for us, so we are going to leave him in peace."

Pippin's face dropped and Berry felt inexplicably guilty, especially when Pippin summoned up a bright smile and kissed him on the cheek. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Berry glanced up at Merry, who was no help at all, just standing with an "I told you so" look on his face. He looked back at Pippin and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I am in a fair bit of pain, love, and the medicine will make me sleepy. Maybe tomorrow."

"Would a back-rub help?"

Berry thought of the aches that consumed his body. "A back-rub would be wonderful."

Within seconds, he found himself lifted onto the bed, stripped to the waist and lying prone, feeling Pippin straddle his thighs and Merry unbuckle the straps that held the calliper onto his leg. The ankle was swollen again, as it usually was in the evenings. He told Merry where to find the ointment for the raw areas and then let himself relax as Pippin's hands started to knead aching muscles and ligaments. Merry's fingers soothed ointment into his knee and ankle, then began to massage his feet.

His last conscious thought was that he hadn't felt so comfortable in weeks.

* * *

Berry woke feeling warm and heavy and free of pain, which was unusual enough that he was momentarily disoriented. The chamber was pitch black and he could hear nothing except his own heartbeat and the soft susurration of breath on each side of him. He had no idea where he was, or what time it was, or who he was with. He couldn't remember anything.

He tried to sit up, but the weight of a warm body on each side of him made it impossible. The body on the left murmured "Merry" and the body on the right grunted and moved closer.

Memory poured back into him: Merry and Pippin, sharing kisses under the mistletoe; waiting for him; taking away his pain. He smiled fondly and closed his eyes again. They could wait a little longer.

* * *

He woke again with a hand exploring his chest and soft curls tickling his chin. The body on his left was wriggling its way upwards, allowing a warm wet tongue to move over his collarbone and neck. He shivered.

"Morning, Pippin," he whispered. "Do you have a kiss for your Merry?" he teased.

"I would if I could reach him," Pippin countered, not fooled at all. "But I'll have to make do with you instead." He wriggled up a little further and kissed his way up to Berry's mouth. "How are you? Do you have any pain? Do you need anything?"

Berry smiled. "I'm well, and no, and no." He started to stretch, but found it difficult with Merry a dead weight draped over his right side. "Actually, I need to move a little, but Merry's lying on my arm."

"Oh, that's easily fixed," said Pippin, reaching over and shaking Merry by the shoulder. "Hoy, Merry, wake up. Berry needs to move."

Merry shifted and raised his head. "Pippin?" he queried into the darkness, as if he could feel that the body next to his was not the one he was used to.

"I'm here, love," Pippin ran his hand through Merry's hair. "Berry is lying between us and he needs to move. You'd better light the candle so that we can see each other."

"Oh, Berry, that's right." There were scrabbling sounds as Merry sat up and started feeling around the bedside table for candle and flint.

Berry sat up as well, and stretched his back and arms, then his legs. Even his leg didn't hurt much this morning. Berry had a vague recollection of Merry running his fingers firmly over the swollen ankle the night before, moving from foot to knee, and he wondered if that had done the trick.

Merry finally got a spark from the flint and lit the candle. As the flame brightened, he squinted at the timepiece. "It's half-past five. Still hours before dawn." He yawned.

Pippin looked pleased. "Good." He started shifting some pillows, pushing them up against the bedhead. "No one will start looking for us before second breakfast. Gives us plenty of time."

"Mmm, I could do with a couple of hours more sleep," Merry gave another yawn and a stretch, and looked as though he was about to lie down again.

"No, no," Pippin interjected, grabbing the pillow that Merry had been about to use and adding it to the pile behind him. "No more sleep."

Merry raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Pippin gave Merry a sly, teasing grin. "Berry says he isn't in pain now."

"So?"

"So..." Pippin finshed plumping up the pillows and moved behind Berry, stretching out a leg on either side. He leaned back, pulling Berry with him.

Merry leaned past Berry and whispered into Pippin's ear, "Are you sure, love?"

Pippin put his hands around the back of Merry's head and drew him in for a tender kiss. "I'm sure," he whispered back. "I wouldn't want to do this without you, but I want it with you."

Merry nodded and sat back on his heels, watching as Pippin tilted his head and began a slow, wet assault on Berry's left ear, while his hand roamed over chest and belly.

Berry shared a speaking look with his cousin. "Does he always get his way?"

Merry shrugged. "Sooner or later." His pupils were dilating as he watched them and his breath caught in his throat. He glanced back at Berry. "As a cousin of mine once advised me: 'Let it happen.'"

Berry closed his eyes as Merry leaned forward and started to nibble and suck on his neck and throat. He wondered, idly, if he should send them away... if he could send them away. This felt so good, and it had been so long since he had felt so comfortable and warm and wanted. He felt a pang as he thought of Frodo, and how much he would have given to have felt Frodo's lips on his throat, Frodo's arms around his chest. But Berry hadn't survived this long without learning when to be pragmatic, and if he couldn't be with the one that he loved, he would enjoy being with the ones who wanted him. He gave a relaxed sort of wriggle as Merry found a particularly sensitive spot under his ear. Oh yes, it felt so good to be wanted again.

He reached for Merry's shirt and started pulling it up, running his hands underneath the linen to warm skin. Merry lifted his head just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then returned his attentions to Berry's neck. Pippin's hands, meanwhile, were skating lower, to the waistband of Berry's breeches, and his fingers were teasing between fabric and skin. Berry shifted to allow him more room, but the fingers withdrew and instead he felt them move down over his breeches, tracing the outline of his erection, which was growing by the minute. He arched up and was rewarded by a gentle squeeze before the hands moved to undo the buttons.

"Merry, take his breeches off," Pippin commanded.

Merry pulled the breeches down and threw them over his shoulder, neither looking nor caring to see where they landed. His eyes were locked with Berry's as he moved in for a kiss, showing Berry the desire that was still there. The kiss was hot and wet and deep, their tongues caressing each other, moving back and forward from mouth to mouth. After they separated, for want of air, Merry rested his forehead on Berry's collarbone before moving further down to the chest, gently biting and soothing the nipples, and continuing down to the stomach.

Berry arched back as Merry's mouth moved lower on his torso. He remembered the touch of those lips, the scent of that body, and it took him back four years to the winter that they had spent as lovers. It seemed that Merry had not forgotten either, as fingertips trickled over his skin, adding a light counterpoint to the music that Merry was making with his mouth. And on top of that, there was Pippin pressing kisses and tongue-strokes to his neck and rolling his fingers over nipples that had become exquisitely sensitive. He was floating away, carried by a tide of sensation towards dangerous rapids and a thunderous fall, and he loved every moment, but he didn't want to reach the rapids, not just yet. With difficulty, he reached down to Merry and gently pulled him away.

"Too soon... It's too soon, pet. I want this to last just a little longer."

Merry sat up and looked fondly at him. "We could always do it again in a few minutes." His fingers were still idly stroking Berry's thigh, and Berry shivered as he took Merry's hand and lifted it away from his skin.

"I have no doubt that Pippin could come three times in an hour if he wanted to, and you probably twice, but I'm not that young anymore. And quality does count for something." Berry smiled to take the sting out of his words.

Pippin moved out from behind Berry. "I think he just insulted us, Merry."

"No, I didn't, I just pointed out that you are very young - yes, you are, so don't argue - and that speed is not necessarily the aim. Sometimes it's better to take your time."

Pippin gave a pout. "Just for that I think I should get to come first. It was all my idea, anyway." Throwing off his shirt, he crawled over to Merry, kissing him and then pushing him back onto the mattress. Merry's head almost hit the foot of the bedframe, but he smiled up at his suddenly-forceful lover.

Berry looked at the enticingly-filled breeches that were in front of him, and snaked his arms around Pippin's waist to undo the buttons. He looked at Merry, his eyes flickering to Pippin's arms, and saw Merry's flash of comprehension. Merry gripped Pippin's wrists and nodded, and in the space of a few seconds Pippin found himself naked, face up, and held by ankles and wrists.

"I think we can arrange that, young Pippin." Berry threw a leg over Pippin's knees and grabbed the bandage on the bedside table, unrolling it and making a couple of loops in the centre. He leaned full length over Pippin's body and secured his wrists to the frame, giving the bandage a couple of tugs to make sure it was going to hold.

Merry let go and moved down to join Berry, and Pippin was treated to the sight of two grinning Brandybucks, each holding an ankle. He struggled for a minute, just for appearance's sake, then opened his legs slightly, tilted his pelvis up and licked his lips. He saw their expressions change and marvelled at the way they seemed to move in unison: mouths opening, eyes widening, breath catching. He smiled sensuously, touched his tongue to his upper lip and whispered, "I'm waiting."

Merry made contact first, in spite of the fact that he had further to travel. His mouth covered Pippin's and his tongue was deep inside before either had a chance to draw breath. Berry, meanwhile, slithered down so that his weight was taken on his uninjured left side, and bent his head to Pippin's solid erection. He swirled his tongue around the tip a couple of times, then opened his mouth and took the whole length in. He laughed and withdrew as Pippin bucked and shrieked into Merry's mouth, then, licking a broad stroke down the shaft, continued on to the scrotum, taking each firm globe into his mouth and applying tiny teasing licks with the tip of his tongue.

Merry's body was sprawled full length over Pippin's left side as he plundered Pippin's mouth, and he started to move his hips, pressing in to increase the friction between them. Berry sat up and reached for the oil. After coating his fingers, he slid them between Pippin's buttocks and rubbed gently at the sensitive skin. Pippin groaned and opened his legs more widely, allowing Berry to insert one and then two fingers deep inside. Berry caught Merry looking at him a little oddly and mouthed "only my fingers". As Merry relaxed, Berry smiled to himself. Oh, yes, there was sharing and then there was sharing, and Merry obviously considered some parts of Pippin to be his own private property. And as much as he would have liked to have thrust up inside that sweetly-delectable body, Berry didn't think that Pippin really wanted anyone but Merry either.

He took Pippin back into his mouth, moving in time with his fingers and working up to a steady rhythm. A glance at Merry showed that he was watching Berry's rhythm and matching it with his tongue and with a hand on a nipple. Berry smirked - with all that going on, Pippin wouldn't last long at all. The lad was already twitching and moaning; very soon he was squirming, and Berry had to hold him down firmly over the hips with his free arm; and then he was crying out and bucking and releasing into Berry's mouth.

Merry reached up and untied the bandage at once, bringing Pippin's arms down over his chest. Berry grabbed a cloth and wiped them both clean, then moved up so that they lay one on each side of the boy.

"Good?" whispered Merry.

Pippin smiled without opening his eyes. "Very good."

Merry wriggled a little and Berry saw that he was still hard. He reached a hand over and took hold of his erection, stroking him, watching Merry as his head rolled back and his breathing grew ragged. It was easy to remember what Merry liked, so at just the right moment, he gave a little flick of the wrist and thumb and Merry came with a high-pitched yelp.

Berry brought his hand up to his mouth and tasted the fluid that had spilled over it, letting his tongue swirl slowly and lasciviously over the skin, well aware that he was watched by the other two and enjoying the knowledge that he could probably get them both hard again just by doing this. A covert glance at Pippin showed him he was right.

Pippin stretched and reached over to the bedside table, picking up the honey-pot. "Merry went all the way to the kitchens for this. We'd better use it or he'll feel unloved." Taking a spoonful of honey, he dripped a little onto Merry's chest, following it immediately with his mouth. Berry made a grab for the pot as Pippin's hold wavered and held the spoon so that it dripped honey onto Pippin's lower back and buttocks. Cool honey was followed by warm tongue, and Pippin shivered and groaned.

Merry opened his eyes to see what was causing Pippin to wriggle so much. When he saw what Berry was doing he slid out but told Pippin to stay just as he was, on all fours. He dipped a finger in the honey and traced a meandering design over Pippin's buttocks and thighs, which Berry followed just as avidly as he had his own earlier trail.

Pippin wriggled and squirmed, then rolled away from them, saying "We're supposed to be seeing to Berry, not me."

Merry grabbed a leg and finished chasing one final honey trail before straightening up. "You're right," he said, and looked speculatively at Berry. "Lie down, and we'll see who's sweeter - the honey or the Berry."

"Oh, I am, of course," Berry stated airily. Lying down, he watched as Merry pushed his legs apart and knelt between his thighs. A spoonful of honey was raised and allowed to drip its sticky yellow trail in a meandering pattern over Berry's chest, stomach and groin. Pippin started at the nipples, licking and sucking the sweetness, allowing his teeth to give the gentlest of bites, then soothing with tongue and lips.

Merry hurriedly put the pot down on the bedside table and returned to start at Berry's groin, licking honey out of the hollow at his left hip. Berry opened his legs more widely to allow Merry better access, inadvertently causing one of the trails to trickle down inside the thigh. Merry followed the trail down, then, on his way up, abandoned the honey to give a broad tongue-stroke to Berry's erection. Berry shivered as Merry's tongue reached the tip and ran around it, lapping delicately at the fluid that was beginning to appear there.

Merry pressed firm, open-mouthed kisses up and down the length before returning to the tip, enclosing it gently with his lips, caressing it with his tongue and then taking the whole length deep into his mouth. Berry felt the sensitive head scrape over Merry's palate to the back of his throat, and he gave a self-satisfied smile as he remembered that it had been he who had taught Merry to control his gag reflex. Merry was putting those lessons to good use now, holding Berry's erection as he swallowed, registering how Berry moved his hips in response. He repeated the swallow before withdrawing, applying suction as he dragged himself away.

"Merry..." Berry breathed.

"Yes?"

"I want you inside me."

"You'll have me."

Merry reached for the oil, and after pouring a generous amount over his right hand he inserted two fingers gently, waiting until Berry had relaxed around him before pushing up and adding the third. Berry twitched as Merry's fingers flexed, brushing the sweet spot, and his breathing quickened when Merry started a regular movement with his hand, stretching and teasing him. It felt heavenly but Berry wanted more, much more, and he growled at Merry to stop.

Merry withdrew his hand, and reached for the oil once more. "Roll over, love," he said, as he poured a little more oil onto his hand. "That way we both get to play with you."

Berry rolled to lie on his left side, with Merry behind him and Pippin in front. Pippin's hand gave him a few gentle strokes as Merry prepared himself and got into position. Merry entered him slowly, easing himself forward with tiny back-and-forth movements until he was completely inside. Berry sighed in pleasure, and dragged Pippin up for a kiss. Merry started moving again, still slowly, stretching out every tingling moment. He took Berry's hands and held them in front of his chest, using them as leverage to pull himself in and out.

Pippin wriggled down the bed and took Berry's erection in his hand. There was fluid at the tip once more and he licked it off, rolling the flavour around his mouth.

"You don't taste quite the same as Merry," he pronounced, "but it may just be that I can still taste the honey." He gave another slow lick, then a third, smiling as Berry groaned. "Mmm, still different."

"And I thought... that Merry... was a tease," Berry gasped.

"Oh no," Merry managed to say, "Pippin can be worse than I ever was."

"I like to tease," Pippin stated, simply. "But I always stop teasing in the end." At that he closed his mouth over the head and slid the length deep into his mouth. Berry moaned, Pippin chuckled, and Berry moaned again, more loudly.

Berry was caught up between them in a sensuous rhythm, Merry's slow thrusts pushing Berry further into Pippin's throat. Berry tried to make them go faster, harder, but Merry was in control, and he kept the rhythm slow and steady, with Pippin always following. As Berry's wordless cries began to increase in pitch and intensity he pressed back into Merry, who struggled to keep the rate even. Berry was panting and incoherent, his body starting to twitch.

Suddenly Merry ceased moving and called out: "Pippin, stop."

Pippin withdrew immediately. Berry was struggling to free his arms, but Merry held him close. Pippin put his hands on Berry's hips to stop him moving against Merry, and watched as Berry came back from the edge, pleading and begging.

"No, no - don't stop -please don't stop."

Merry shook his head. "It's too soon, love. We want to enjoy you for longer. And you know it will be even better when you do come. You wanted quality, remember?"

Berry panted. "I take it back. You are definitely worse."

"I learned from the master." Merry ran his tongue over Berry's ear. "I remember a day when you took me to the brink three times before you let me come. I'd have strangled you if I'd had my hands free."

"I never thought you could hold a grudge that long."

"Not a grudge. I'm just returning the favour, that's all." Merry waited until Berry had relaxed, then nodded to Pippin and they started moving again.

This time Merry held them to an excruciatingly slow pace, and Berry almost bit his lip through with the effort of holding still. He wanted to roll over and straddle Merry, to take control of it all, but with Merry's hands still firmly over his own, and Pippin's hands gripping his hips, he was effectively immobilised. He could do nothing but groan and curse as the smooth thrust of Merry's hips filled him and each movement of Pippin's mouth on his erection made him harder and more desperate. It wasn't enough, he needed more, and he almost sobbed with relief as Merry's movements became a little faster and more forceful. He felt Merry adjust his position, and at the next thrust he groaned as the hard flesh inside him scraped over his sweet spot, sending shooting stars of pleasure through his groin.

His moans were quickly becoming wails and Berry was praying that they wouldn't hold him back a second time; it would be too cruel and he didn't think he'd survive it. He looked down at Pippin, whose hand had joined his mouth on Berry's shaft, and felt his climax starting to form. Merry must have felt it too, and his thrusts became harder and deeper. Pippin was taking Berry deep into his throat and swallowing around him, and that was enough to finish him. Berry's wails suddenly ran up the scale to a shriek, startling Pippin into pulling back, and Berry came in torrents, spilling over Pippin's hand, while Merry shuddered and came inside him.

They were all still for a moment, then Berry slumped back into Merry's arms, saying, "Oh, that was good."

Merry patted his hand, presumably in agreement, then rolled back onto the bed, taking Berry with him, releasing his hands but wrapping his arms around Berry's chest instead.

Pippin wiped his hand on the sheet then sat up. He looked at them both and was entranced by the sight. "The beautiful Brandybuck boys," he murmured. "You have no idea how beautiful you are together." It was true - they were unbelievably alluring, with swollen lips, dark, lash-fringed eyes and damp, shimmering skin. Candlelight had darkened Merry's hair and given a golden tinge to Berry's skin, increasing their resemblance.

Merry smiled up at him. "Come here, love, let me finish you." He watched Pippin crawl up the bed until he was kneeling beside Berry's chest, then reached over with his hand and gently grasped Pippin's still-hard erection. Pippin hissed at the contact and pressed his hips forward, grabbing onto the bedhead for balance.

Berry was half-asleep but opened his eyes and gave an appreciative smile at the sight in front of him. He eased his hand underneath Merry's arm and between Pippin's legs and ran his fingers teasingly over his balls and between his buttocks. Pippin's skin was still slick and oiled from before, and Berry's fingers slid up and inside with little resistance until Pippin registered the penetration and clenched around him. It took only a few more strokes before Pippin jerked and his release was streaming out over them.

"Oy, Pip!" Merry exclaimed as his chest was covered with splashes of milky fluid.

Pippin took a couple of deep breaths but remained unrepentant. "Not my fault. You should have caught it."

Merry looked at the trail that led to the edge of the bed. "I think you got some on the floor. You ought to clean it up before Berry gets annoyed."

"Berry's not complaining," Pippin pointed out.

Berry gave a superior little smile. As close as he had been to Pippin, he'd hardly got any on him, and he didn't really care about the floor.

Merry snorted. "Well, I am. It's messy."

Pippin managed, with some difficulty, to crawl over them both. Grabbing the towel that was on the bedside table, he wiped Merry's chest and dabbed at the drops on the blankets. He cast a hasty look over the edge of the bed but couldn't see anything on the floor, and said as much. Throwing the towel down, he turned back to the pair who were still closely entwined.

Berry saw the look in Pippin's eye and pulled himself out of Merry's embrace. Sitting up, he reached for Pippin, saying, "Come lie between us, love. You'll get cold sitting up on your own like that."

Pippin eagerly snuggled down between them. Berry pulled up the blankets, which had been pushed down to the foot of the bed during their activities, and tucked it around them before lying down himself. Pippin had angled his body towards Merry, but he took hold of Berry's arm and wrapped it over himself. Berry yawned and nestled his head into the hollow of Pippin's neck as sleep overtook him.

* * *

Berry woke in the grey light of morning. He looked over at the two beside him, so closely intertwined that he couldn't see which limb belonged to which torso, and smiled to himself, envious of their bond. He slipped quietly out of the bed, buckled on the calliper and pulled on a robe. After gathering up his clothes and the remaining stick he headed for the bathrooms but paused at the door, allowing himself one last look at them before he left. He was immensely grateful that they had shared themselves with him, but sad with the knowledge that he would never be as closely joined to them as they were with each other.

He hoped that Merry and Pippin would avoid a serious rift after their night with him. He felt a heavy burden of guilt for having let them stay - he should have sent them away, or gone himself, he knew that. He knew they were too young, too newly-paired, and Pippin, in particular, had very little idea of the effects that lying with someone could have on the heart and mind. He was the eldest and the most experienced, it had been up to him to foresee the consequences and to forestall them. The fact that they had seduced him, more or less, with backrubs and poppy-juice, didn't really change matters. He should still have known better.

He wondered what he would say if they came to him again. He had to say no, he knew it, but they were so damnably attractive! And it had felt so good to be wanted again, when he was beginning to believe that his injury had made him repulsive.

He sighed. Maybe, in two or three years, it would be safe to tumble them again... He amused himself through his ablutions by thinking up ways to entice the youngsters into his bed three Yules hence, and had to deal with a resurgent part of his anatomy before he could finish dressing.

He ate a good breakfast and went for another walk in the park. It was a little more awkward with only one stick (and he only had himself to blame for that), but he managed two laps to the oak tree. He saw several carriages go past and was thankful that the Hall would be a little quieter today.

By the time the youngsters appeared, shortly after elevenses, Berry was snugly tucked up in the Red Parlour again, reading a book. Through some perverse impulse, he had chosen the book on the Great Plague that Frodo had been reading a few days earlier, and found it more interesting than he had supposed. He received kisses from both of them, though he wasn't sure if he had imagined a shadow in Pippin's eyes. He hoped it was his imagination.

They chatted and played cards for the remainder of the morning, then Berry felt brave enough to risk going to the dining room for luncheon. That afternoon Merry was required to help his father with some work for a couple of hours, and Pippin went for a ramble, so after another quick walk to the oak tree he returned to his book. It held some fascinating details on pre-and post-Plague Shire life, and he made a mental note to ask Frodo about a particular point, before remembering that Frodo had gone back to Hobbiton. Back to Sam.

He put the book down, and was trying to decide if he would be better off going back to Michel Delving in the spring, when Merry came in, carrying a tea tray. They had been chatting for about twenty minutes and were laughing quietly over an old escapade when Pippin walked in. One glance at Pippin's face was enough to tell Berry that the shadow he had seen before was not in his imagination. Pippin gave a good impression of vivacity, but it was clear that there was something wrong.

Berry let the conversation continue for a few minutes, then said, "Oh, Pippin, the tea has gone cold and I'd love one more cup. Would you be good enough to get another pot?"

"Of course." Pippin gave a bright false smile and hurried off.

Merry was looking at him rather oddly. "What was that all about?" he asked. "You hate asking for help. I've known you go for hours without tea rather than ask someone to get it for you."

"Merry, my sweet, I'm afraid that Pippin has had second thoughts about last night."

Merry looked puzzled. "I wondered if something was wrong, but he seems fine with me."

"With you he is fine, but he won't meet my eyes, and the expression when he came in and saw you and me together was clear enough. If he could have killed me with a look, he would have."

"Oh." Merry grimaced. "Oh, damn it all. I should have known this might happen."

"Did he...? Was last night...?" Berry tried to find the right way to ask the question. "Did he agree to last night just to please you?"

"No, it was his idea," Merry said. "Honestly, it was." He thought about what Pippin had said: I know he wants you and you want him. "But I think, perhaps, he offered it because he knew it was something I wanted. I know I shouldn't have... but he was so sure about it... and he's been right about so many things this year." He gave a heavy sigh, and dropped his head into his hands. "What do I do now?"

Berry didn't really have any idea. He shrugged. "I'm not sure. For now, I think, nothing. He may raise the subject with you, in which case you can discuss it with him. If he hasn't said anything in a couple of days, then maybe you should mention it."

"Fine."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Why should I have a problem with it?"

"Just because." Berry said no more.

Merry bristled defensively. "Look, it’s not as if I cheated on him."

"Who said anything about cheating? I just asked how you felt about last night."

"I had my two favourite cousins in the same bed - of course it felt good!"

Berry gave him a speaking look; Merry's tone was as false as Pippin's had been. "Merry, please. I'm not going to be angry or upset at what you say - as long as you tell me the truth. But you have to be honest with yourself, or you'll never make it right with Pippin."

Merry clenched and unclenched his fists as he battled with his conscience, but it wasn't enough, so he got up and strode over to the fireplace. Looking down into the flames he finally managed to bring the words out. "I - I loved being with you again. I really did. But... I'm not sure about... well, in fact..." His fist thumped against the mantlepiece. "I hated you being with Pippin."

"Ah."

"I felt so jealous when you touched him." Merry looked back at Berry. "You're such a good lover, and I was afraid that he'd want you instead of me, that I might lose him."

"I don't think you have to worry about that. It's me he wants to remove from the face of the earth, not you. He wants you back all to himself."

"I want him back too. All to myself. Umm..." his voice trailed off, and Berry could see that he was torn between conflicting emotions.

"Out with it, Merry. Tell me what's on your mind."

"Well, when... I mean..." He took a deep breath and looked at Berry. "I don't ever want you to touch Pippin again."

The suddenness of the statement, and the intensity in the stormy eyes, struck Berry like a physical blow. He hadn't expected it but he had to deal with it, and there was only one answer that he could possibly give if he wanted to keep his cousin's affection. "I won't. I promise." He held Merry's gaze until the intensity faded and Merry nodded.

"Thank you."

Berry let out a silent breath of relief. "You realise that I have to ask you something in return."

"What is it?"

"Don't touch me. Especially not in front of Pippin."

Merry nodded again. "That's only fair." He studied his fingers for a while, then said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't be sorry. If you really love Pippin you have to know what you're prepared to give up in order to keep him, and if that means no more happy romps with Berry, then that's that. Though I'll be very sorry if it means no more friendship with Berry."

"So will I." Merry gave a rueful smile before dropping his gaze again.

"Well, let's hope we can stay friends."

Pippin returned at that moment with the refreshed tea pot, and looked pleased to see them on opposite sides of the room. He seemed aware that something had happened in his absence but didn't mention it, and after the tea was poured they kept up a semblance of civilised conversation until it was time to change for dinner. By unspoken agreement they went their separate ways after the meal: Berry abandoning the Red Parlour for an evening with Esme and Saradoc; Merry and Pippin wandering off on their own.

As Berry got into his bed that night, alone, he smelled the faint residual traces of honey and sex, and wondered if his cousins would be all right. He hoped so.

* * *

Merry dreamed of an earthquake, and woke to find Pippin sitting on the corner of the bed, curled up with chin on knees. He looked as if he had been crying. He was still shivering.

"What is it? Are you all right?"

"I think I m-made a mistake."

"What have you done?"

"With B-Berry."

"What?"

"I think that t-tumbling Berry was a m-mistake."

"Well it’s a bit late to decide that now." Oh Lady! Merry thought. What do I now? And how on earth did Berry know he'd do this?

"I know." He looked miserable. Merry reminded himself once more that Pippin was only 18 and sat up, reaching out with both arms.

"Come here, love, tell me what's wrong and we'll work it out together." Merry recoiled as Pippin moved into his embrace. "You're freezing! How long were you sitting there?"

"Not sure. M-maybe an hour."

Merry wriggled them both back down under the bedclothes and made sure that Pippin was properly covered. "There, that's better. I know you're unhappy, love, but I don't think that there is anything worth freezing to death for." He expected Pippin to snuggle up to him for warmth, but to his surprise and dismay Pippin rolled over to face the other way. He spooned up behind him and held him close, though Pippin tried to break free.

"Pippin, please. I'm can't listen to what you have to say if I'm worried about you catching a chill. Let me warm you, please."

Pippin stopped struggling. Merry's arms and one leg enfolded him and held him until the shivering stopped.

"Now, love, tell me what's worrying you."

Pippin was silent for a while and Merry tried to work out if he was thinking about his answer, refusing to answer, or just falling asleep.

"I didn't like sharing you with Berry."

Merry's heart sank. He had been so overwhelmed with desire the night before that he had buried all his reservations, but since his conversation with Berry that afternoon, he had been afraid that his lust might cost him Pippin's love, and that thought was like a dagger through his heart. Please, Lady, he thought, don't let him hate me for this.

He made his voice sound matter-of-fact. "If you didn't like it, we won't do it again."

"I don't like that we did it at all."

"Well, you can't change the past, love. It happened. We have to live with that."

"I know. But I don't like it."

There were aspects of it that Merry hadn't liked either, aspects that he had revealed to Berry but not to Pippin. Maybe he should have - maybe he should tell Pippin now how he had felt the night before. "Oh, Pippin-love, there were things I didn't like either."

He felt Pippin move slightly. "Really? What things?"

"Well..." he took a few moments to marshall his thoughts and put them into some sort of order. "I was afraid that you would think Berry a better lover than me. He's had so much more experience, he knows so much more."

Pippin was silent for a moment. "What else?"

Merry paused; he'd been hoping for reassurance, not another question. He closed his eyes, not that it made much difference in the darkness, but it seemed to give him a bit more courage. "I didn't like Berry touching you... touching you in places that only I've touched. You remember when Berry put his fingers inside you? I thought, for a minute, that he was preparing you, and I didn't like that. I didn't want to see him take you. But I think he knew that, because he told me he would only use his fingers."

"Oh." Pippin considered that for a minute, then asked, "What else didn't you like?"

"When he took you in his mouth, when he made you come... I know it felt good for you, and I'm glad of that, but I wanted to... I want to be the one who makes you look like that. I want to be the one you see and feel around you when you come. I want to be the only one you think about when you're so close to the edge that you can't think at all."

To Merry's astonishment, Pippin sighed and relaxed. "Yes, that's it. I knew you'd be able to explain it to me." He added, in a whisper, "I want to be your only one, too."

Merry's heart leapt. He doesn't hate me! He still wants me! He tightened his hold around the slim body and held him until he felt Pippin start to roll towards him.

He eased Pippin onto his back, then lifted himself over and down, so that he was lying full-length along his lover's body, weight supported on elbows and knees. Another small adjustment ensured that everything was perfectly aligned. Only then did Merry let himself kiss the sweet, full lips on the face beneath him, teasing him with gentle passion. Pippin's tongue touched his, and he opened his mouth wider to allow it full access, relishing the taste and the sensation.

He rocked his hips, feeling the pressure along his length, hearing Pippin inhale. They moved against each other in a slow, sinuous measure, taking their time, pleasuring each other with touch and tongue and teeth. Pippin lifted his legs and wrapped them around Merry's back. The change in angle was good for both of them, and the pace increased. Sweat prickled, breath became gasp, and rocking changed to thrusting, until all control was lost. They reached climax within a few seconds of each other, fluid spurting out between them, hot and wet and musky.

Merry held himself still for a minute while he recovered, his face pressed against Pippin's neck. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

Merry eased himself off Pippin's body and lay down at his side.

Pippin wriggled. "Sticky."

"Mmm."

"Cloth?"

"On the table."

"You're closer."

"You're stickier. Oof!" Merry gasped as he was thumped (lightly) in the ribs. "Oh, all right. The things I do for you." He reached over and grabbed the cloth to wipe them both down. When that was done he snuggled back under the bedclothes. He could just make out Pippin's face, and ran his fingers over lips, cheek, and hair. After another kiss or two he whispered, "I'm sorry, love. I was so selfish and it nearly ruined everything for us."

"Oh, no, Merry, I'm the selfish one. I wanted you and more than you. I thought that more would be better, only it wasn't, and I know you tried to warn me but I didn't listen."

"You weren't to know."

"I should have listened. You're my Merry and I love you."

"I don't deserve your love."

Pippin laughed. "Oh, yes, you do."

"How can you say that?

"Merry, you've always done so much for me. You looked after me when I was little. You helped me with all the things I had to learn to grow up. You worry about me, even when it isn't necessary, and more when it is. You kept me safe when all I wanted was to tumble and I was too young to know how dangerous it can be. You made my first time - both my first times - very special. You don't hate me for giving us away when Berry fell, and you didn't let our parents separate us. You don't hate me for wanting to tumble with Berry, and you don't hate me for being sorry about it. And everything good in my life still comes from you."

It was the most Pippinish speech he had heard in months, and yet it was so different from the one he had heard after their grandfather's funeral. The words, the tone, the very rhythm of Pippin's voice had changed, and Merry suddenly realised how much Pippin had grown up this last year. He guessed, with a pang of regret, that he would never again see the enchanting Pippin-child who had captured his heart. But in his place there was his Pippin-love, who would walk beside him, support him, argue with him, laugh with him and make love to him. He wouldn't swap that Pippin for anything in the world.

"I love you, only you, always and forever."

He never did work out which one of them had said it. It didn't matter.

* * *

It was another cold, grey morning, the fifth day of the new year. Berry had woken early again and decided to go for a walk while waiting for the others to leave their bed and join him. They had made their peace with each other and that was good, but it meant that he felt alone again, left out of their happy little world.

He felt restless as well. He still couldn't make up his mind what to do when the spring arrived. Being factor entailed a great deal of riding around, both in Buckland and around the Shire in general and so far he hadn't been able to get on a pony. Even if he drove a cart, he certainly wouldn't be able to get to Michel Delving or Longbottom as often as he had in the past. He needed a deputy, or at least an assistant, who could travel for him. Unfortunately, there was no one else with the necessary knowledge except his father, who was settled in his cozy burrow with his new wife, or Saradoc, who had far too much to occupy him at the Hall. Merry was a possibility, but he didn't yet have the experience to drive a hard bargain on Buckland's behalf.

It was a pity that Frodo wasn't here - his quiet authority and his talent for getting to the heart of a problem would have been invaluable. But Frodo had gone running back to Hobbiton, to Sam, and Berilac was left in the warrens of Brandy Hall, that held so many memories. Unsurprisingly, now that Frodo had gone, he recalled only the bad times, the year after Frodo's banishment to Hobbiton. It had been the worst year of his life... so far. He wondered, bitterly, if this year would prove to be worse. He wondered if he would ever walk normally again. He wondered if he would be able to ride. He wondered if he would ever be able to attract another lover, crippled as he was.

He caught sight of himself in a mirror as he limped through the main hall, and wondered when he had grown old.

* * *

When he was a boy Berry he had spent many an hour in the oak tree that marked the entrance to Brandy Hall. For the last few days he had used it as his marker for the progress he was making, managing three laps yesterday in the morning, and another two in the afternoon. He wasn't sure that he would accomplish the same today, since his leg was aching again, but he would do at least one.

As he walked through the grounds, deep in thought, his head was bowed and eyes were fixed on the ground. It was for this reason that the hobbit sitting at the foot of the oak tree did not come to his notice until he almost fell over him. He stumbled, spinning around and catching his breath. It was Frodo, wrapped up in a thick brown travelling cloak.

"What are you doing here? Merry said you went back to Bag End."

"I did."

Berry tried to calculate how many hours it would have taken Frodo to reach Bag End and return. "You didn't walk all night, did you?" he demanded.

Frodo shook his head. "No, I rode, and stopped at Stock." He paused. "As for what I'm doing here...well..." he trailed off, and tilted his head back against the tree trunk. "It's a bit awkward. I was hoping to have some time to work up the courage to walk the last hundred yards."

"Why do you need courage?"

"I need to talk to someone." Frodo looked at him, and Berry felt his heart start to pound from the expression in those blue eyes.

"What do you need to talk about?"

Frodo bit his lip. "Oh, things. Several things, actually. Or may be it's just the one. Would you believe that I prepared a speech?"

"A speech?"

"I wanted to be sure that I said everything I wanted to say, and the only way I could do that was to write it all out and then learn it. But I'm still not sure that I'll remember it all."

"Is it important?" Why was his heart pounding so?

"I think it might be the most important thing I ever say in my life."

"Maybe you need to practise it some more." And would it - could it - be what he thought it might be?

'Maybe." Frodo considered it for a moment. "Perhaps you could help."

"How?"

"You could sit here and listen to me go through my speech, and then you can tell me if I'm making a fool of myself or if I might have a chance."

"A chance at what?" It wasn't just Berry's heart pounding now; his whole body was trembling.

"Putting things right. Saying some things that should have been said years ago." Frodo looked up at him, and Berry knew, without a doubt, that Frodo was about to talk about what had remained unspoken between them for eighteen long years. Did he have the courage to stay and listen? Did he have the courage to leave?

He couldn't leave. He had to hear what Frodo had to say, even if... "Well, it wouldn't hurt to listen, I suppose," he said, easing himself slowly to the ground to sit beside Frodo.

There was silence for a couple of minutes, then Frodo laughed. "And after all that, I don't really know how to start."

"How did the speech start?"

"Well, I was going to say... am going to say... Hmm." Frodo halted, then cleared his throat, took a breath and commenced. "I discovered, recently, that the last twenty years or so of my life have all been wasted. A part of me was lost, then, and though I tried to carry on, it was as if there was a gap, an emptiness inside me, something that could never be filled."

Having started, he relaxed a little, and the speech that had begun so formally and awkwardly became more natural. "What's worse is that I know it's my own fault. I had what I wanted, in a way, though there were reasons why I couldn't... well, I was supposed to wait for it, and between cowardice and impatience, I lost it. I thought, at first, that I would be able to get it back, but time moved on, and when I was able to speak, I found that... that what I wanted didn't seem to want me any more. I had waited too long. So I pretended that I didn't really want it any more, and that seemed to work for a while, because it meant that I didn't have to see you - it - very often, and I was able to keep on going even though it felt as if I had no real purpose in life.

"Then, recently, I thought that - maybe - there was a chance, just a chance, that I could find it again. And I promised myself that if it is ever mine again I will treasure it and take care of it and make sure that I never lose it again." His voice trailed off into silence, and he sat with his eyes closed.

Berry considered Frodo's words for a while, then asked, "What was it that you lost?"

"Your love."

Berry made no answer, and after a minute Frodo opened his eyes, looking straight ahead. Berry could see that he was afraid, and for a moment he wondered what would happen if he got up and walked away, because he was afraid, too.

Frodo turned to look at him, saying, "I love you, Berry. I never really stopped, you know."

The intensity in the blue eyes caught Berry by surprise, and he stammered, "I... I thought you disliked me."

"Never. Though... though I probably tried to make you feel that I did. The first time I saw you - after that awful day at Bag End - was when I went to Michel Delving with Bilbo to see the Mayor. You were with a Nobottle lad, I think, and you looked so happy, until you caught sight of me, then your face closed up and I could see that you didn't want to talk to me. I thought you despised me. I didn't blame you - I despised myself. I remember I made some excuse to Bilbo and went outside. I felt awful. I had so hoped that we could have talked and maybe... well, anyway, when I saw that you didn't care for me any more, I didn't know what to do for a while."

Berry picked at a piece of lint on his breeches. "I remember that day. I saw you." His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "It was a shock - I wasn't expecting to see you. And I was a bit embarrassed that I was with Tick. I wanted to talk to you, but you left, the moment you saw me, and I thought that you didn't want me any more."

"I wanted you. I always wanted you. But in a way I hated you too, because I couldn't let you go. I had heard about your... your lovers, of course, and I thought that I understood. I had told myself that I wanted you to be happy, but it was so hard to see you happy with someone else. I wasn't prepared for how much it hurt. Every time I saw you I tried to tell myself that we were nothing more than relatives, that you didn't mean anything to me any more. I got into the habit of ignoring you, or speaking to you as if we hardly knew each other."

"I know. It hurt."

"It hurt me too. But I kept on doing it, and after a while I actually believed it, or thought I did. I sometimes wondered why I never found someone that I could settle down with, someone to share my life with. I never really understood. I thought that I had just developed the habit of being alone, like Bilbo had, and that I would no doubt adopt some nephew or cousin in the fullness of time as he did.

"Then... when I saw you fall... I thought you were dead, just for a few seconds, and I felt that my life was over too. I realised then that you were all I had ever wanted. It wasn't Bilbo or the books or Bag End... it was you. I wanted to kill Reg. I think, if you had died, I would have killed him." He shivered. "And then you weren't dead, and I couldn't keep away from you. I had to keep looking at you, touching you, to make sure that you were still alive. It was so easy to pretend that I was just being the older cousin again, looking after you as I did when you were young." He shook his head. "I'm amazed that no one caught me out... though I'm pretty sure that Esme realised.

"I didn't know how you felt, though. You didn't seem to hate me, but that was all, and of course you were in so much pain that you were bound to be irritable from time to time. Then, this Yule, it seemed that you weren't so indifferent to me. The other night, when you kissed me on the cheek, I thought - though I might have imagined it - that you might still have some warmer feelings for me. So I decided to tell you how I felt - how I feel, and let you make the decision. If you tell me to go away, I will, and we won't speak of this again.

"I don't deserve you, I know that. I didn't fight for you when your grandfather sent me away, or when Saradoc took you away from Bag End. I didn't tell you how much I loved you, then, even when I knew that you needed to hear it from me. I didn't do so many things that you needed me to do, and I did other things that hurt you. I'm sorry for all that.

"Oh, Berry, I'm sorry about so many things. I'm sorry that I wasn't the hero you wanted me to be. I'm sorry I didn't fight for you. I'm sorry for everything that you suffered. I'm sorry you saw me with Lotho. I'm sorry for that most of all. The other things - well, even if I had fought Merimac and Rorimac, I doubt the outcome would have been any different: they had far more power than I had. But Lotho was my own stupid fault and that did change things.

He took a deep shuddering breath. "The thing is... what I've been working up to... is that I love you. I want... I would like... to spend the rest of my life with you. But if you don't love me, if you don't want to be with me, I won't try to force you."

He stopped, finally, and looked at the ground, at the sky - anywhere except at Berry.

Berry sat with his back to the tree and looked at the grey sky. "It's hard to believe that this is the first time we've been able to sit down and talk about what happened. I've thought about it for so many years - what might have happened if I had run away again, if I hadn't gone to Hobbiton that night, if I had been able to forgive you sooner or to understand what you might be going through. But I was too young, Frodo, I was too young. They were right about that. I couldn't understand anything but my own feelings, and not even those. I wanted you, and only you, and I when I saw you with Lotho... I nearly lost my mind. I couldn't understand how you could say no to me and yes to him. I thought that if you were lying with him you had to love him, and that meant that you didn't love me any more. It hurt, Frodo, it hurt so much I couldn't bear it." There were tears on Berry's cheeks but he made no attempt to brush them away. "I almost threw myself into the lake that night."

Frodo caught his breath. "No... I had no idea you felt so badly about it. I'm glad you didn't - I couldn't have borne it... not after my parents. It would have destroyed me."

Berry shrugged. "I wanted to destroy you. I hated you for a while. I hated you for having hurt me so much. You had said so often that we had to wait, that you would wait for me, and then I found you... rutting with that cousin of yours... and I knew you didn't like him, and I couldn't understand how you could have changed so much. And I thought that if you could have changed enough to like him, then you could have changed enough not to like me any more."

Frodo grasped Berry's hands. "No, no, it wasn't like that. You were too young, and I was too ignorant. I didn't know how lust can be mistaken for love. I loved you still, but Lotho made me feel as if I was on fire. And I thought I wouldn't see you again for years, and he was there, telling me how much he wanted me, how much he loved me. I'm so sorry that I believed him. I'm so sorry that I let him tumble me. If I could change anything at all it would be that.

"I know that Rorimac was concerned because I was older than you and I remember Cousin Sara shouting at me, that day he came to fetch you back from Bag End. He kept saying that I was old enough to know better. But I wasn't, really - I was old enough to know it was wrong, but not old enough to know why. I wasn't old enough to know how love - passion - can distort everything, how it makes people so vulnerable. I wish - I wish that I had tumbled with others so that at least I knew what it felt like, then maybe it wouldn't have been so easy for Lotho to trick me. I even wished that I had lain with you, as Uncle Rory thought I had. I thought that if we had been lovers, really lovers, that it would have been harder for them to keep us apart - or easier for us to wait until we could be with each other again."

Berry squeezed Frodo's hand. "I think you're right. You know, it wasn't until I tumbled Merry that I realised just how young you must have been. Merry was 22 and seemed barely out of childhood, and yet you were younger than that when they separated us. And Merry had had a few lovers by then too, it wasn't as if I was his first. Though I've always wondered... were you?"

"Merry's first?" Frodo seemed confused by the sudden change of topic. "No... though I doubt I could have refused him if he'd asked. No, I think it was someone in Oatbarton - it was that summer he spent there, anyway, about five years ago. Why do you ask?"

"No real reason. Well, maybe I was a little jealous. I thought he might be someone else you said yes to."

"No, I've never lain with him. There aren't... there aren't very many that I said yes to." Frodo hesitated, embarrassed. "Though, while we are speaking of first times... I have wondered, sometimes, who yours was."

"I don't think you know him. One of the hobbits I made friends with in Michel Delving. He was quite a bit older than me, and he was very kind. And I thought... well, if I couldn't have you, then at least I could have someone who liked me. We had a few months together, then he went off on another trip. When he came back he was interested in someone else, but one of his friends was keen on me, and one thing led to another, and the next thing I knew I had bedded half the lads in Michel Delving before I was a tween myself. Somewhere along the way I gained a reputation for it, and then I had them lining up for me." He gave a bemused shake of his head. "It all seems a bit strange now. The odd thing is, I haven't actually had many lovers in the past ten years or so, but I'm still 'Wicked Cousin Berry'."

"And I'm fast becoming "Old Mad Baggins", though, to be truthful, I don't think I'm nearly as eccentric as Bilbo was. Reputation is a peculiar thing, you know. It seems to have an existence quite independent of reality."

"Speaking of reputation..." Berry was in a quandary - the words that Frodo had spoken were everything that he had ever wanted to hear. But first he had to know something, and that might ruin everything for them...

"Yes?"

"What about Sam?"

Frodo nodded, miserably. "That... oh, dear. I think I've made a complete fool of myself. Again." He swallowed, nervously. "I lusted after him for years, you know, ever since he was eighteen or so. I couldn't believe it at Overlithe when... well, when it happened. He was so strong, and it felt so good to be picked up and held tight. I thought that he would love me and I would love him, and we would overcome any difficulties and live happily ever after, just like one of Bilbo's stories." He gave a bitter laugh. "Life is never that simple. His family despises me now, they think I took advantage of him. The irony would amuse me if it didn't hurt so much."

His voice dropped. "The worst part of it is that almost immediately, I realised that I didn't really love him after all. He's a good lad, and I'm still fond of him, but he's not the hobbit I want to spend the rest of my life with. I should have told him straight away, but I didn't. I kept on tumbling with him, just because he was warm and solid and it was better than sleeping alone."

Berry put his hand over Frodo's. "I know how it can be."

"Then... there was the accident, and I knew that I loved you, even if you couldn't love me back. That made it worse, somehow, not better. I should have told him when I got back home, but he seemed so pleased to see me that I didn't have the courage. For the last three months I've been trying to find the right words to tell him, but I couldn't. I spent hours thinking about it. If ever there was a just punishment, it was that. All those years, longing for a dream, only to find a nightmare.

"Then, on second Yule, you kissed me. I wasn't sure - it was only on the cheek, but I thought, well, I thought that there might be a chance. That's why I left. I had to go back to Hobbiton to tell him, finally. I had to set him free, I set to set myself free, before - before coming back here."

"And are you free now?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"How did he take it?"

"He was upset, of course, but on the whole he took it better than I had expected. Quite well, actually. It seems that he had also been having second thoughts, but hadn't wanted to hurt my feelings. He wants to walk out with Rosie Cotton, one of the local farm girls, and get married, and have babies. That, I think, is the most humiliating thing of all - I've been thrown over for a village girl!"

Berry laughed. "He's mad!" He could see that Frodo was embarrassed and humiliated, and yet he couldn't help it. The thought of anyone preferring a village girl over Frodo was ridiculous. He laughed and laughed, and saw Frodo's face start to twitch, and smile, and then Frodo was laughing as well, only there was a hysterical touch to it, and they were leaning against each other, their sides hurting and tears pouring from their eyes as emotions long-buried came to the surface.

"I suppose it is pretty funny, when you come to think of it. Especially when you think that it only happened because I let Pippin talk me into wearing a dress."

They giggled again.

Then Berry leaned in and kissed him, tasting salt tears and cold skin, pressing him against the trunk as the kiss deepened. He had a vague sense-memory of kissing Frodo, years ago, but it had never been like this. They had been little more than children, both of them, eager in their affections but knowing almost nothing of love. Now they were adults. Each of them had felt passion and pain and loneliness and fear. Each had hurt the other, and each had tried to bury love deep inside. Now they had the chance to start again, to be with each other and to love each other as they had been destined to do from the first.

As the kiss ignited heat within him, he felt something unlock in his heart and he gasped. This was what he had been looking for, all his life. This was what he had craved and had never found. Suddenly all the pain, all the tears - all the hurt and the hatred that he had buried deep inside - all of it came spilling out, and he found himself sobbing, wrapped in Frodo's arms. Frodo was crying too, and they sat by the tree, rocking each other, holding each other, for a very long time.

Eventually, when their tears had dried, and they had wiped each other's cheeks and blown their own noses and kissed each other again, Frodo asked, "Berry, will you come and live with me at Bag End? You can still work for Saradoc if you want - though I have plenty of money for us both - and Hobbiton is a good central base if you're travelling. I'd like to be with you, but - but you don't have to move, if you don't want to, you can stay here or at Michel Delving and I'll visit you, if that's what you'd prefer."

"I'd like to live with you at Bag End." Berry's voice was muffled, as his face was tucked into Frodo's shoulder. "I always liked it - it felt so homely in comparison with the Hall. I think I could be happy living there." He smiled. "And, besides, I want to excavate for treasure, as we did when Bilbo was there."

Frodo's face fell. "Oh, love, there is no treasure. Bilbo gave it all away, you know. There's money from rents and business, but that's all. I'm not fabulously wealthy, as everyone thinks I am."

Berry hugged Frodo close. "Frodo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. That's not what I meant at all. I don't want treasure, I just wanted the fun of looking for it. If I had to choose between Frodo Baggins and a hobbit-hole full of treasure, I'd choose Frodo, believe me."

"Would you really?"

"Yes, really. Now kiss me again before I freeze to death out here."

Frodo kissed him, willingly, but soon realised that Berry hadn't been joking. "Oh, you are cold. I shouldn't have kept you out here all this time. Let's get you back to the warm fire and I'll make sure you have some hot tea, and maybe a tisane of willow-bark."

He jumped up and helped Berry to his feet, picking up Berry's stick and then his own backpack.

"Where's your other stick?"

"It got broken. But don't worry, I don't need it any more."

"But are you sure that your leg will be all right with just one stick? What if you trip?"

"Frodo, love. Stop fussing."

Frodo actually blushed. "Yes, love."

Berry kissed the rosy cheek. "But you can lend me your arm for the walk back."

They walked back through the main hall and Berry realised that he was barely limping at all. Frodo was just the right height to support his right arm, and that, combined with the calliper on his leg and the stick in his left hand, meant that he could walk almost normally. It felt like a good omen.

* * *

As Berry and Frodo reached the door of the Red Parlour, a smothered giggle from behind the stairs alerted them. Frodo looked around and saw young Myrtle and Minto Burrows crouched there, their faces bright with mischief. He followed their gaze and caught sight of the mistletoe that had mysteriously appeared on the lintel.

Frodo opened the door and took half a step forward so that they were directly under it. He turned and put his arms around Berry 's waist. They were both smiling foolishly, half-embarrassed, yet unwilling to ignore the tradition. Frodo looked up into Berry 's eyes, remembering that when they had first kissed, he had been taller than Berry by two inches; now it was the other way around. He tilted his chin up and Berry tilted his head down, and their lips touched. After a few seconds, Frodo decided that he liked it this way.

* * * Merry caught sight of the two hobbits embracing as he came down the stairs. He slowed, stopped, and then sat down, entranced by the beauty of the image. Pippin joined him a second later, flinging an arm around him and smiling delightedly as he saw Frodo and Berry together. Merry couldn't resist kissing him, just to let him know how happy he felt, and they sat with arms around each other until Frodo and Berry moved into the Red Parlour and closed the door behind them.

As they ran down the rest of the stairs, Merry decided that he loved Yule. He wouldn't change a thing when he became Master.

THE END

Home    FFF Introduction    Previous