Snow was delicately falling outside Brandybuck Hall, and outside was a icy whirl of wind that kept all but the bravest travellers indoors. Most of the hobbits on their way to other destinations had sought shelter inside the spacious Hall, and were excitedly warming up with spiced cider and ales, generously provided by the Master Brandybuck.

The hospitality of Brandybucks was legendary in the Shire, and quite a few families had probably made sure that they were conveniently waylaid in the area. However, the cellars of the Hall weren't depleted horribly, or from the way Master Brandybuck was behaving, it didn't appear to be so. Instead, he was looking into all the rooms off of the Great Hall for Meriadoc, his son.

As he expected he found Meriadoc tucked into a room furthest from the visitors and closest to the kitchen, eagerly exchanging gifts with the hobbits he deemed worthy, including the young Peregrin Took. This was no surprise, however. He nodded to himself satisfactorily, and went back to feeding the guests.

It seemed like only yesterday that Meriadoc had been told he was responsible for Peregrin's fostering and training as a proper hobbit. Despite their age difference, the two got along marvellously and were seen apart only in the event of bathing and other such private affairs.

Merry, foregoing formality, was almost through the stack of packages, wrapping paper littering the floor and his cousins enraptured by their own presents and mostly drunk on too much fine beer.

There was only the one gift left, and it was wrapped messily, with lumps in the folded edges, and glue dribbling from the corners, the decorative ribbon flopped over as if dead. This had to be Pippin's, and the young hobbit looked ashamed at the floor as Merry saw it, his eyes sparkling.

One of the older cousins caught sight of what Merry was looking at, and began to chortle. "That must be a gift from one of your ponies, Merry. It's looking just about the same."

Merry was about to laugh along with his cousin, just for appearances, but then he heard the snuffling from Pippin. The poor hobbit had his face buried in the crook of his elbow, turned away, and he was trying to look as inconspicious as possible, now that it was obvious they were going to tease him. Merry's eyes narrowed, and he shot a deadly glance in the others' direction.

Then he scooped up Pippin's present in his arms, holding it close to his chest, and walked over to Pippin. "Come on," he said, "I'm not going to listen to their nonsense."

Pippin lifted his head a bit, enough to show reddened eyes, a sure sign of tears. He nodded, getting to his feet and following Merry into Merry's very own bedroom. In all his years of playing with Merry and accompanying him nearly everywhere, he had never been allowed this far into Brandybuck Hall. The aunts and uncles said something about his clumsiness and ability to break things without even touching them, and usually he and Merry defied the rules, but this one they had followed religiously.

Sometimes Pippin wondered why Merry agreed with that rule, if he shared everything with his best friend. What could be so different about a mere room? It was such an astonishment that he was finally going to see Merry's room that Pippin was shaking, right up to his very ears.

Merry acted like nothing was amiss, though, as he closed the door behind Pippin and bounced onto the bed.

"Let's see," he laughed, "What could it be?" Merry picked up the package and shook it gingerly. The contents only rustled, and it felt soft and squishy.

"Pip, if you've gotten me a new tunic, I will certainly bop you over the head." Merry's tunic collection increased by tenfold at the holidays, and by the spring, he had ruined most of them.

Pippin shyly shook his head, standing in front of the bed, watching Merry's feet swing back and forth. He was flushing now, his heart feeling slippery and wet and almost as if it was going to fall out of his chest and to the floor. He tangled his fingers behind his back nervously.

While Merry was turning the package around in his hands, poking at it and muttering to himself, Pippin snuck a peek around, trying to discern what was so special about Merry's room that had kept him out of it for so long.

There, in a corner, hung from the rafters, was a kite. Pippin remembered that day fondly. Merry had kindly untied all the knots in the string after Pippin had attached himself to the kite, and had gone all the way into the river to retrieve it. But that had been a good seven, ten years ago.

And on the wall, were scribbles on parchment from the year Merry was teaching him how to write and multiply. There were ink blots on them and the paper was brownish from the poor quality, but they were tacked up, just like art. Pippin's heart jumped when he saw something on Merry's pillow, bunched up underneath it and almost hidden.

"Merry," he whispered, pointing, even though he knew it was bad manners. "Is that...?"

Merry followed his eyes and found immediately what Pippin was looking at. He cringed, and cursed himself for bringing Pippin in. Of course he would have seen all the things collected over the years. He may have been young, but he wasn't stupid or half-blind.

He leaned back, laying down and reaching for the item under his pillow. He handed it to Pippin, sighing heavily. "Yes."

Pippin brought the scrap of fabric up to his face, breathing its smell in, and tears sprang to his eyes. "My blanket... Why do you have it? I thought they threw it away!"

"They did." Merry gulped.

"When? You didn't give it back!" Pippin's voice was at the edge of a whine now.

"You found something better to hold onto." Merry let the Yule present slip away forgotten, burying his face in his hands and feeling terrible. The day that Pippin's mother and father had taken the blanket from their son had been one of the worst days in Pippin's life. The young hobbit had screamed and sobbed and cried, not able to eat or be consoled, until Merry had come and taken Pippin into his arms and let him cry all his tears out on a comforting shoulder.

Truth is, Merry had gone through the trash and retrieved Pippin's blanket, with all intentions of returning it behind Master and Mistress Tooks' backs, but it had felt so good to have Pippin clinging to him that he had forgotten. And when Pippin had whispered in his ear, "You're my best friend, Merry. I love you," the blanket seemed meaningless. Merry had taken it home and hidden it under his pillows up until this very day, wondering if he should haven given it back or not.

Pippin's heart really did drop to the ground at that point, along with the rest of him as he clutched the blanket to his chest with one hand.

"Merry?" He stared at his best friend, searching for an explanation. Merry refused to look him in the eye, which was entirely uncharacteristic. This was beyond anything Pippin had run across in his life, and he was certain it involved something meant for much older hobbits, due to the quivering in his heart and stomach.

Merry shook his head, trying to clear his mind. All he could see was Pippin on his knees, staring at him innocently, with those bright hazel eyes of his, waiting for Merry to tell him what was going on, like he always did when something he didn't understand happened.

It was wrong of him to feel for Pippin like this, he thought, but how could he stop emotions he hadn't stopped having since the day they had met? All the other hobbits were joking about hobbitlasses and all the adventures they were having, or soon would be having, while Merry and Pippin stayed together, girls not even coming into the picture. And furthermore, Pippin was much too young for any sort of relationship. He was with Merry for mentoring and tutoring, not some betrothal arrangement! Merry felt like shrinking under the bedcovers and never coming out.

Pippin crawled a little closer, slowly reaching a hand up to touch Merry's knee. Merry jumped at the sudden contact, but did not pull away. Pippin let his hand slide up a little higher, to Merry's thigh, and tilted his head right beneath Merry's, forcing him to look into Pippin's eyes.

"Merry, tell me what's wrong? You're crying." Pippin's words were as honest as his eyes, full of caring. When Merry didn't answer, Pippin moved a little closer. His breath was misting over Merry's lips, and Merry didn't move away from that, either.

Pippin's pulse was racing. He didn't understand why his body had a sudden desire to get as close to Merry as possible, but he remembered that Merry's shoulder had always been the most comfortable place to lay his head, and Merry's hands had always felt so nice stroking his curls, and Merry simply smelled of every good thing Pippin knew of.

So he dabbed at Merry's tears with his blanket, brushing noses with his best friend, and smiling all the while, and Merry stopped looking so upset and he started to smile, too.

And then they were kissing, slick mouths sealing and separating over and over, tongues entwining and lips curling around delicious curves. Merry's hands came up and seized Pippin's, holding them tightly and never wanting to let go. Pippin slid up to his fullest knee-heighth, until Merry's arms were running under his and yanking him up onto the bed. They sat there, breathing slowly and kissing, under the spell of each other, for several hours, learning new ways to move their bodies to fit as tightly as they could. Pippin felt like something else should be done, but he had no idea where to go from where he was, all nestled up in Merry's lap, damp forehead pressed to Merry's neck, and Merry rubbing his back, the way Pippin had fallen asleep countless times in the past. The only difference was when Merry leaned over and kissed Pippin on the mouth instead of the cheek.

Pippin whispered, "What now?"

Merry told him. He knew what was happening now, and he knew what they had to do, but it was not the answer he wanted to tell Pippin.

"We have to wait, wait until you're older. We can't go any further than this."

Pippin's voice squeaked in defiance, but Merry tapped the tip of his nose with a gentle finger. "Any more, and they'll find out, and they'll take you away from me. No, Pippin."

There was a long sigh from both of them, as Merry started to slowly rock back and forth, cradling Pippin as if he was an infant again, and Pippin's breath turned from nearly silent to the gurgling snores Merry was so familiar with. He laid back on the bed, giving Pippin enough room, though he was certain he wouldn't move at all, and tried to fall asleep.

It was surprisingly easy that night, with Pippin cuddled close and the fire blazing and the snow falling outside the window like fine lace.

---

Pippin woke up, head tossing back and forth as he tried to discern his surroundings. None of the shadows looked familiar, and he didn't have a fireplace in his room, and why was he all hot and still wearing clothes? He couldn't breathe, what with something incredibly huge crushing all the air out of him, for that matter.

He tried to pry himself out from underneath the very heavy weight pressing on his back, which was pinning his shoulder into the bed, but he wasn't strong enough, and he kicked in frustration.

He heard Merry's muffled grunt of pain and then Merry's eyes were staring into his, sleep-filled and groggy.

"Pip! Ow! Don't kick me!"

"Merry?"

"Yes, Pippin. I'm here." Merry's voice was calm now, a hand reaching up to caress Pippin's cheek.

It was starting to come back now, hazy from the holiday brews, but the emotions still quite vivid in Pippin's memory. Merry had given his blanket back, they had kissed like lovers, he had fallen asleep in Merry's bed, in Merry's arms, and somehow, things hadn't changed a bit. Merry still looked the same, and Pippin still felt too young, but something very earth-shattering had occured last night.

Pippin rolled onto his back, able to shift around now that Merry realized he was squashing the air out of his best friend. He stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out why he had done it, and what Merry was thinking at the same moment, and what Merry was thinking now.

"So... now what?"

Merry sighed. "We wait. We have to wait." He sounded desperate to not have to say those words. He would give anything to say something different, something better and what they both wanted to hear, but it simply couldn't work that way.

It now occurred to Pippin that Merry hadn't let him kiss him because he was drunk. Merry had wanted to kiss him, too. He blushed, tucking his chin into his collar unconsciously. Merry captured Pippin's fingers between his own, and whispered, "Pippin?"

From the other side of a pillow came the reply, sounding frightened. "Don't talk like that, or I'll think you're falling in love with me."

Pippin wasn't sure what he would do if Merry was in love with him. It was such an adult thing, this love business, and the Thain hadn't even explained babies to him yet, and the only reason he knew what hobbits and hobbitlasses did together was because of Merry. It was all too complicated, and all he wanted to do was kiss Merry again.

Merry looked up at the ceiling, trying to see what Pippin was finding so interesting up there. Not finding anything besides cobwebs and the kite, he sat up, leaning over Pippin and whispering into the space between them, "You're my best friend, Pippin. I do love you."

The burden those words carried crushed Pippin into the mattress. He couldn't move, his body frozen in shock, and his eyes wide. No, no, no, not love, not something he wasn't old enough for. Love was supposed to be a great and wonderful thing, but if it was something Merry could have and he couldn't, it was a terrible thing. He burst into tears, rolling his face into the pillows.

Merry's heart leaped in terror. This was not how he wanted this to go. Pippin was supposed to say he loved him, too, and they would kiss some more, and agree to wait, and everything would be as perfect as it could get. Pippin was not supposed to be sobbing his eyes out and making his words sound as awful as they would from any other hobbit his age. So it was wrong, after all, and Pippin was terrified of him, and he was a horrible, dirty, filthy-minded creature and Pippin needed to be taken away from him. Before he did any more damage.

"Look, I-I'll leave, if... Pippin, I'm so sorry..." Merry bolted away from the bed, straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair, backing up so quickly he stumbled over a chair. He swore as he continued hopping backwards towards the door.

He left Pippin crying heartily on the bed, running as fast as he could for the only place he knew where he would be secretly hidden-the darkest passageway of the cellar. Pippin was still too scared of the dark to come down there alone, and the larders had not been that full in several years. He could be alone with his tears and his shame.

---

Pippin laid in Merry's bed and cried for what seemed like hours, but his eyes finally had no more tears left, and his nose was stuffed up so much he was gasping for breath, and his head pounded like thunder in a summer storm. He clung to his old blanket, drawing comfort from it, and immediately tried to figure out where Merry had run away to.

He also noticed that Merry had left his Yule present on the floor, and Pippin felt like crying even harder. Merry had been so upset with him, he didn't even want his present that Pippin had worked so hard to make. He scooped it off the floor and tucked it into his blanket, making a small pouch out of the blue felt.

As he was slipping out Merry's bedroom door, a voice from down the hall shrieked his name. He froze. Someone had spotted him in the exact place where he had been ordered to stay away from, and now he was going to be in for the scolding of his life without Merry to help him. He stood there, trembling, eyes pinched shut, waiting for the angry hand to snatch his ear and haul him off for a good whipping.

But the footsteps stopped before they could get close enough to touching him. Whoever it was spoke again, softly, and Pippin recognized it, taking a deep breath.

"Peregrin? Have you been crying? Whatever is the matter?"

Pippin could only answer his older sister in hiccups. "P-Pervinca..." He stopped again, unable to go on.

Pervinca Took, the youngest girl of the family, accessed him in one healthy look. Being already well-trained in the art of taking care of male hobbits, she nodded. "You've been in a fight with Meriadoc, haven't you?"

Pippin miserably nodded, so Pervinca slipped her arm into his, dragging him along in the direction of the kitchens. She had seen the ancient raggedy blanket Pippin was holding, and goodness knows where that had come from, but if it had anything to do with Meriadoc, it was bound to have caused a great mess.

When Pervinca barged into a small dining room, some of the hobbits seated cried out in annoyance, but she flashed them the "Big Sister Moment" look, and they scattered. Quickly, she gathered up tea and little things to munch on, and put them in front of Pippin, seating herself across from him.

"Now. What's wrong?" She poured him a cup of tea.

Pippin accepted the tea, but didn't sip it at first. He reached for a cookie, which was bad manners, but his sister seemed willing to let it slip past. He nibbled, then drank, then finished off the cookie.

"Am I too young to fall in love?"

Pervinca nearly dropped her teacup. "Pippin!" She hesitated, looking at her little brother closely. He had beautiful eyes that were still fresh and untouched by sorrow. His face was rounded, but laugh lines were starting to begin around his mouth, and his ears weren't enormously large on his head any longer. "Yes," she finished. "Yes, I think you're old enough, even if Mother and Father would disagree."

"I think I've fallen in love with Merry," Pippin mumbled all in a rush, hiding his face in tea and cramming more pastries in his mouth to delay the questions.

"I thought so, yes, I thought so. Does he know?" Pervinca wasn't against two hobbit men loving each other, even though society frowned deeply upon it. She was relieved that she had been the one to find Pippin first, otherwise she could see Father attempting to beat the trait out of Pippin, or worse, disowning him.

Pippin's head popped up. "You're not upset?"

"No. Tell me what happened, Pippin."

Carefully, Pippin tried to retell the night before, but he kept faltering. He didn't want to say words like "natural" and "perfect" and "always". At the end, he looked up at Pervinca and whispered, "And then I kissed him."

Pervinca didn't appear shocked in the least bit. She had already put her teacup down, not sure of how much Pippin was going to tell her, but the look in his eyes and the deep flush was telling her more than enough.

"Let me guess. It felt so natural and so perfect, like it's always felt, right?"

Pippin made the only noise he was still capable of making, nodding eagerly. "Meep."

"Where is Merry?" was her next question. The story was getting easy to figure out now. If Pippin had kissed Merry, and Merry had run away, then either there was some heavy attraction going on, or some heavy anger.

"Don't know!" cried Pippin, bursting into tears and hugging his blanket tightly, acting very infantile. "Told 'im not to say he loved me unless he meant it, and he said it, and I started crying 'cause I didn't know what to do, and he ran away as fast as he could. I'm stupid and he thinks I'm stupid, doesn't he?"

Pervinca could do nothing but go over to her brother and hug him, though she knew he wouldn't find the same amount of comfort in her as he would Merry. "You'll have to ask him that, Pippin."

Pippin hugged his sister back, not releasing the deathgrip on his blanket and biting his lip. The only place Merry could go in this weather was their very special ultimately secret hiding spot. Pippin had never been there alone-he had a terrible fear of the dark still, and this place was as dark as it got. But Pervinca was right.

"Good luck," she whispered to her little brother, hoping with all her heart that Pippin could make things right with his beautiful honesty and pure way of speaking from the heart.

Pippin stopped at the edge of the passageway. From here on back, it only got darker and smaller. He rocked on his heels, squinting down into it. The torchlight turned the walls a murky green as it stretched away, but that was barely a third of the tunnel. Merry was probably at the very end of it, and unless he went down there to check, he would never find out.

He gripped the blanket in a fist, kissing it and taking a deep breath, trying to relax. He had no reason to be scared of the dark, did he? He had never been scared of the dark with Merry. But that was just it-there was no Merry this time. Merry was at the end of that darkness, and he had to go down there all alone.

"I'm coming, Merry," he mouthed, more to calm himself than anything, and started down the passageway.

It quickly got dark, and if he turned his head over his shoulder, he could see the rectangle that was the main cellar hall, but that was getting smaller everytime he checked, so he stopped looking and kept one hand against the side of the stone wall, his teeth clattering in fright.

Merry, on the other hand, was sitting at the very end of the tunnel, his back up to the wall, his head between his knees, and he was crying his soul out. Pippin was too young, too innocent, too impressionable, and he had done something very bad. He was an evil, evil hobbit and deserved the least humane of all deaths. He had left Pippin crying because his perversion had frightened him so badly, and Merry was to blame for all of the terror he had caused the poor youngster.

He wiped the tears that were trickling down his nose on his trousers, his knee bumping against his leg. It was terribly cold down here, if you spent too much time crouching in the dark, and crying never warmed you up any. Merry hoped he died down here, and his family never found him. That way, they wouldn't have to give him a decent burial, because that would be unworthy for him. In fact, they might as well start blotting him out of all family trees, too. Merry didn't want his ugly secret reflecting on his family's honor.

He was so engrossed in all the details that vanishing entirely would require that he didn't hear the frightening panting and soft footsteps coming right up to him. He did, however, feel the body that walked into him.

There was frightened shrieking from both hobbits as they tried to get away from the unfamiliar object they had collided into. Merry's ears pricked up in recognition. He had been hearing those noises from a certain hobbit since it had been old enough to draw breath.

"Pippin? Pippin!" First came startled realization, then heartbroken resignation.

Pippin's voice stopped squeaking, and Merry found himself smashed up against the wall again as Pippin hugged him, snuffling and crying again, but in a much more happier fashion.

"I'm so glad I found you, Merry! I was so scared and all!" Pippin's mouth was pressed up neatly to his shoulder and his feet were stepping on Merry's.

Merry tried to untangle himself from Pippin, but every time he moved, Pippin was there to match his body into a tight fit against him. Pippin leaned up, having to grind his hips into Merry's a little bit to get to the height he wanted, and whispered ever so softly.

"Merry. I love you."

"But..."

Pippin kissed him soundly, not needing to see where Merry's mouth was to fit the exact way it needed to be, and Merry could feel Pippin's heartbeat through his tender lips, and anything that caused that kind of reaction was obviously perfect and natural and just the way it always should have been.

"We'll wait. I can wait, if you can wait." Pippin was smiling now, grinning from the way the words came flying out.

Merry was astounded. Not five minutes ago, he had been contemplating death and solitude, and somehow Pippin had erased everything except the prospect of a brillant future together. In three words, no less. He whispered something in agreement.

Pippin was bouncing now, rustling around in the dark. "Here. I made you slippers. For Yule." He pushed a paper-wrapped package into Merry's chest. Merry felt the smooth satin with his fingers, rubbing one of the slippers up against his cheek.

"Pippin...? You were going to give me slippers? In front of everyone?"

Pippin snuck in close for another kiss, letting his lips move over Merry's as he answered, "Yes. You're my best friend and I love you."