Categories > Books > Lord of the Rings
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the setting or even a clean pair of pants.
No hope
The orcs threw them into a dark cell with only one window, and then turned to leave. Merry crawled over to where Pippin lay unconscious and bleeding, but his attention was pulled away by the gruff voice of the one remaining orc in their cell,
"He is not dead, but before Saruman is done with you, you'll wish you both were." Then, with some awful mockery of a grin he finally left, slamming the thick stone door behind him.
A horrible truth dawned in the young hobbit's mind; they would not be leaving this place alive.
Pippin groaned in the corner, rolling over and sitting up. There was such innocence still in him.
"Merry?" He cried out, startled by the dark, his eyes only slowly accustoming to the environment.
"I'm here, Pip." Merry spoke in a quiet tone, reaching out to his young companion. Pippin followed the voice and lunged himself into Merry's arms. Merry winced at the pain, softly pushing his cousin away, he untucked his shirt from his breeches, revealing an awful sight.
When the orcs had first grabbed them, the foul creatures had not taken away their prisoner's weapons; later on they had removed one Elven dagger from Pippin, but had seen no such weapon on the other halfling. Merry had carelessly made to tuck the dagger into his breeches, but a sudden jolt had caused it to slice into his abdomen. The orcs being filthy creatures to begin with, had not noticed the extra blood leaking from the prisoner, either that, or they had simply not cared.
Now though, Pippin sobbed miserably into Merry's shoulder as Merry pulled the blade from his stomach. He stroked his cousin's face and played his fingers in the once golden curls, which were now brown with mud and blood.
"I'm sorry." He said, barely holding back his own tears, the struggle was even harder when Pippin turned his face upwards to look into Merry's eyes, his own eyes full of naïveté.
"For what?" Then Merry gently took Pippins arm, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt and running his thumb along the soft pale flesh of the younger halfling's wrist. Pippin still didn't understand, Merry so badly didn't want to frighten his baby cousin, but it was better this way. He drew the dagger up and checked Pip's eyes again.
"Oh." Merry had truly expected to see fear in those shining orbs, maybe anger and a little hate also. But what he found was relief, and no small amount of sorrow.
"Be brave Pip." Merry couldn't help but make a terribly sad whimpering sound as the blade cut through Pippin's flesh as if it had been designed for this very purpose.
Merry was already dizzy from the vast amount of blood he'd lost from his own wound, but he couldn't let Pippin suffer alone, to do so would be worse than killing him.
Pippin's body shuddered, and the little hobbit tried hard not to cry, he wanted to be brave for Merry, he knew it was important, he knew this was the only way.
Merry took Pippin's other arm and repeated the process. He hoped beyond hope that they would be dead before Saruman or the orcs came. Then he lay them both down, lying face to face on the harsh stone floor, Merry's foot kicked something that might well have been a scull, but he thought nothing of it, he just pulled Pippin even closer and felt the warmth of his and his cousin's blood surrounding them.
Pippin stopped sobbing and went quiet, and for a moment Merry thought it might have been all over for the little one, but then a small, somewhat beautiful voice came from him.
"Merry?" He asked.
"Yes Pip?" Merry replied, he felt so weak now, his head felt heavy and light at the same time, and he felt his heart might break at the sound of Pippin's voice, so comfortable with their fate despite the fact he would never reach the age of adulthood.
"What do you think happens?" then his body shook with effort as he took a deep breath. "Where do we go when... when we die?" He pulled from Merry embrace to admire his cousin's face, Merry had such a handsome face, even covered in all the grime and blood, and now one tear cleaned a trail down his left cheek.
"I think we go somewhere like the Shire." Merry smiled at the thought, and his broken heart swelled when Pippin returned the smile, "But it doesn't matter where we go... We'll be together." Then, in a sleepy voice, he began to describe how the Shire would be, how green the grass would be under a glowing July sun, how there would be no chores, no ring, no Sauron, just them; Merry and Pippin, forever.
Pippin's smile was fading slowly, and a saddening blankness was coming over his eyes, Merry heard his own voice start to slur and grow quiet, until he was whispering, no longer about the Shire, just incoherent mutterings.
Pippin's body was limp in his arms, and Merry didn't have the strength to pull him any closer.
The next breath Merry pulled into his tired lungs was his last.
End
No hope
The orcs threw them into a dark cell with only one window, and then turned to leave. Merry crawled over to where Pippin lay unconscious and bleeding, but his attention was pulled away by the gruff voice of the one remaining orc in their cell,
"He is not dead, but before Saruman is done with you, you'll wish you both were." Then, with some awful mockery of a grin he finally left, slamming the thick stone door behind him.
A horrible truth dawned in the young hobbit's mind; they would not be leaving this place alive.
Pippin groaned in the corner, rolling over and sitting up. There was such innocence still in him.
"Merry?" He cried out, startled by the dark, his eyes only slowly accustoming to the environment.
"I'm here, Pip." Merry spoke in a quiet tone, reaching out to his young companion. Pippin followed the voice and lunged himself into Merry's arms. Merry winced at the pain, softly pushing his cousin away, he untucked his shirt from his breeches, revealing an awful sight.
When the orcs had first grabbed them, the foul creatures had not taken away their prisoner's weapons; later on they had removed one Elven dagger from Pippin, but had seen no such weapon on the other halfling. Merry had carelessly made to tuck the dagger into his breeches, but a sudden jolt had caused it to slice into his abdomen. The orcs being filthy creatures to begin with, had not noticed the extra blood leaking from the prisoner, either that, or they had simply not cared.
Now though, Pippin sobbed miserably into Merry's shoulder as Merry pulled the blade from his stomach. He stroked his cousin's face and played his fingers in the once golden curls, which were now brown with mud and blood.
"I'm sorry." He said, barely holding back his own tears, the struggle was even harder when Pippin turned his face upwards to look into Merry's eyes, his own eyes full of naïveté.
"For what?" Then Merry gently took Pippins arm, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt and running his thumb along the soft pale flesh of the younger halfling's wrist. Pippin still didn't understand, Merry so badly didn't want to frighten his baby cousin, but it was better this way. He drew the dagger up and checked Pip's eyes again.
"Oh." Merry had truly expected to see fear in those shining orbs, maybe anger and a little hate also. But what he found was relief, and no small amount of sorrow.
"Be brave Pip." Merry couldn't help but make a terribly sad whimpering sound as the blade cut through Pippin's flesh as if it had been designed for this very purpose.
Merry was already dizzy from the vast amount of blood he'd lost from his own wound, but he couldn't let Pippin suffer alone, to do so would be worse than killing him.
Pippin's body shuddered, and the little hobbit tried hard not to cry, he wanted to be brave for Merry, he knew it was important, he knew this was the only way.
Merry took Pippin's other arm and repeated the process. He hoped beyond hope that they would be dead before Saruman or the orcs came. Then he lay them both down, lying face to face on the harsh stone floor, Merry's foot kicked something that might well have been a scull, but he thought nothing of it, he just pulled Pippin even closer and felt the warmth of his and his cousin's blood surrounding them.
Pippin stopped sobbing and went quiet, and for a moment Merry thought it might have been all over for the little one, but then a small, somewhat beautiful voice came from him.
"Merry?" He asked.
"Yes Pip?" Merry replied, he felt so weak now, his head felt heavy and light at the same time, and he felt his heart might break at the sound of Pippin's voice, so comfortable with their fate despite the fact he would never reach the age of adulthood.
"What do you think happens?" then his body shook with effort as he took a deep breath. "Where do we go when... when we die?" He pulled from Merry embrace to admire his cousin's face, Merry had such a handsome face, even covered in all the grime and blood, and now one tear cleaned a trail down his left cheek.
"I think we go somewhere like the Shire." Merry smiled at the thought, and his broken heart swelled when Pippin returned the smile, "But it doesn't matter where we go... We'll be together." Then, in a sleepy voice, he began to describe how the Shire would be, how green the grass would be under a glowing July sun, how there would be no chores, no ring, no Sauron, just them; Merry and Pippin, forever.
Pippin's smile was fading slowly, and a saddening blankness was coming over his eyes, Merry heard his own voice start to slur and grow quiet, until he was whispering, no longer about the Shire, just incoherent mutterings.
Pippin's body was limp in his arms, and Merry didn't have the strength to pull him any closer.
The next breath Merry pulled into his tired lungs was his last.
End
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