Author: Ruby Nye
Pairing: Merry/Pippin; Boromir/Merry/Pippin perhaps implied.
Rating: PG
Warnings:Tookish whining.
Summary: Pippin sleeps and wakes in Hollin.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world, not my money.
It was still strange to sleep in the daytime, Pippin thought, as he carefully spread his cloak atop the bedroll, pressing it flat. Well, not to wake in the daytime, Pippin had done plenty of that while leading the life of a vigorous tween, but to bed down during it; on the other hand, he said to himself as his lethargic fingers clumsily fought with his scarf, weary as he was at the moment he wouldn't have too much trouble sleeping, no matter what the time of day.
"Pippin?" Merry came up and wrapped an arm round Pippin's middle, kissing the back of his head. "Are you all right?"
"Of course." Pippin turned to face Merry and returned the kiss on his mouth. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, you were awfully quiet." Merry released Pippin and began dusting his feet off with a clump of grass. "That usually means trouble." Merry looked up with a grin, and Pippin put his hands on his hips and made a face.
"Careful, Master Pippin, your face might stay that way," Boromir said, laughing, returning from his visit to the woods with his jerkin and overtunic draped over his arm, his face glowing from a scrubbing with snow. Pippin cocked an eyebrow at Boromir and opened his mouth, but Merry put in, "It would be an improvement," and laughed and dodged when Pippin kicked at him, grabbing Pippin's heel and tumbling him onto the bedroll. "Ai!" Pippin cried, and reached around to grab Merry's shoulder; Boromir knelt and pulled them apart, tucking one beneath each massive arm as he said, "I believe Gandalf said something about resting quietly?"
Pippin pouted as Boromir lay down, still holding them pressed to his sides. "You both treat me so terribly. I think I'll go sleep with Frodo and Sam." Boromir and Merry laughed at that, Merry reaching across Boromir for Pippin's hand as Boromir pulled his cloak around the three of them. "Poor Pip," said Merry cheerfully. "We have all day and night; after we wake I'll make it up to you."
"Yes, but for now we should sleep," Boromir said, a warm rumble as he snuggled them against his solid bulk. Warm against Boromir's side, holding Merry's hand, Pippin laid his head on Boromir's shoulder and closed his eyes.
From the sound of their breathing and the limpness of their hands Merry and Boromir dropped off at once, but Pippin lay for awhile, listening to Gimli's harrumphing as he settled down, Frodo and Sam quietly speaking, Boromir's slow deep heartbeat. The breeze rustled the holly bushes all around them; Gandalf began to snore. Pippin remembered with a pang that Sam had first watch, and thought of going over to see how Frodo was, but Boromir's hand was broad and warm on his back and his eyelids were so very heavy and Merry's hand lay on his, and before he knew it he was asleep.
"Wake up, Pip." Merry shook his shoulder gently, kissed his cheek; it was late afternoon, Boromir was already up, Pippin lay on the cloak-draped bedroll. He smiled, rolling over and stretching, but when he opened his eyes Merry's face was serious and framed by the hood of his cloak, and Merry urgently said, "We have to be up and moving."
"Up? Moving? What about---" Merry shook his head, and Pippin cursed under his breath and sat up, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. "All right, but there had better be a good reason for this."
As he stretched and dressed, Merry told him: a flock of some terrible birds came spying, so no fire, no hot meal, and they were to set out again as soon as the Sun, already near the horizon, was fully down. "Well, if that isn't a plague and a nuisance!" Pippin sputtered, rather too loudly; Gandalf heard his complaining about it all, especially missing the hot meal, and replied tartly, "Well, you can go on looking forward, there may be many unexpected feasts ahead for you."
Pippin was not overly comforted by that, and muttered under his breath as he rolled up his and Merry's bedroll, then Boromir's. "What are you on about?" Merry asked him impatiently, and though he knew it wouldn't help Pippin couldn't stop the words from tumbling forth. "I'm hungry, Merry! And not for a cold apple and dried bread and salty jerky! Remember Tourmaline's baking, back at Great Smials?"
"Yes, Pippin, I remember. I'm hungry too. But do you remember those wildflowers we saw yesterday, a whole field of them?"
"Wildflowers? I'd rather have flowers I can eat, lavender flavored shortbread, rose-petal jam on fresh hot scones..." Pippin heard his voice catch, and stopped, realizing his eyes were prickling, how excessively upset he really was. Merry was staring at him, looking dismayed, and Pippin swallowed hard and bit his lip. He was already the youngest and the smallest, it would hardly help to act like a child. "I'm sorry, Merry," Pippin whispered, ducking his head as he strapped up his pack. "I'm just not cut out for this, I fear. Perhaps I shouldn't have come."
"Ah, Master Pippin, but if you hadn't, who would keep me warm?" Boromir's hand descended, warm and broad, on Pippin's shoulder, sliding up his neck to ruffle his hair as Pippin looked up; Boromir smiled encouragingly at him, turning that smile to Merry as he said, "and whom would I teach to hold a sword?" Merry smiled at that and reached for Pippin's hand, as Pippin's heart swelled within him and he thought that he could follow Boromir's smile right over a mountain. "I am glad you are with us, my lads. Now, are you ready to set out? We have a ways to journey this night."
Pippin nodded, still looking up at Boromir's wide heartening smile. "I'm ready, Boromir," he said, and Boromir squeezed his shoulder and drew away; Merry pulled on his pack one-handed, as did Pippin, and, hand in hand, they followed.