Chapter 3
Title: The Price
Author: Anemone Frost
Email: Weepingwillow987@aol.com
Pairing: P/OC; P/M
Rating: PG-13
Summary: 3/? Merry and Pippin have a discussion while traveling back to the younger hobbit’s home. Paladin is not thrilled when his son returns.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Warnings: Violence and Slash! I know some people out there need to be warned more than once.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tolkien.
Archive: Ask first.
Merry groaned in pain as Pippin eased his trembling form up. The younger hobbit reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, pressing it against Merry’s seeping nose. Merry grunted at the contact and replaced Pippin’s hand with his own over the cloth. Averting his gaze, Pippin began to head back to the trail with Merry slowly lugging after him.
“Thank you, for stopping him,” Pippin murmured.
“Well, it’s obvious I didn’t do a very good job of it,” Merry sighed in disgust.
“Don’t say that Merry,” Pippin whimpered, surprised by his cousin’s comment. “You kept him from— harming me. I’m in your debt.”
“No, you’re not,” Merry replied.
Merry felt a blush creep across his face. He remembered crouching in the brush, watching as Marroc lowered Pippin in the grove. He had sat there, and watched as the hobbit demanded his cousin to remove his clothing; he had sat there, and heard Marroc threaten his cousin. Shame crept over Merry’s mind. A part of him, at the time, enjoyed seeing Pippin writhe in terror of what was to come. He was still enraged over Pippin’s previous actions, kissing Marroc right in front of him and Paladin. It had revolted him to the point that he felt like retching, but now he realized that it wasn’t Pippin’s fault. The younger hobbit was only doing what he thought was best. Merry regretted allowing Marroc to speak those harsh, vile words. Pippin hadn’t deserved it. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Pippin, I’m sorry about what took place between us earlier today,” Merry stated, moving closer to his cousin’s side.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Pippin answered, his voice low and hollow. “It’s obvious that you do not want me.”
A startled cry came from Pippin, but it was quickly swallowed as Merry kissed him. Pippin moaned, wrapping his arm’s around the older hobbit’s neck, deepening the soft, gentle kiss. Merry pulled back, and gazed into Pippin’s green orbs. Pippin licked his lips, tasting the coppery liquid that had smeared on.
“I do want you, more than anything,” Merry murmured, “but I don’t want to buy you like you’re a piece of property. Pip, why do you put up with it? I never understood that. You can leave, can’t you?”
Pippin looked away, eyes brimming with dampness. “Since I haven’t come of age yet, I can’t leave the house to go out on my own. That’s why they’re getting rid of me now, while I’m still under their control so they can earn a profit. Believe me, Merry, I have tried running away many times. I even ran to your home for protection but you turned me away.” Merry cringed at the memory. “When I did that, Da tied me to a bed and beat me with a strap for three days. He told me if I ever pulled a stunt like that again, he’d— he’d— ”
“You don’t have to say it,” Merry soothed, stroking Pippin’s back. “I was a foolish tween when you came knocking at my door that day. My father convinced me that you had to go back home for your own good. If I had known that was going to happen I would have never done it. Forgive me— ”
“No, it was not your fault,” Pippin interrupted. He choked as a sob rose in his throat. “I may as well face it. I’m only an object that will bring in a great deal of gold for my parents. I suppose it’s all I’m good for.”
“Don’t say that!” Merry snarled, shaking his cousin’s shoulders roughly. “You are a kind, beautiful hobbit! Not a lifeless object that’s to be passed around for others amusement!” His gaze gentled, and he caressed Pippin’s cheek. “I love you so much Pippin.”
“Do you?” Pippin snorted, jerking out of his cousin’s grip. “Are you sure it’s love or is it just lust?”
Merry grasped Pippin’s arm and gently pulled him back. “Pippin, I have loved you ever since we were children. You are the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. “I won’t lie, though. For some time I have craved to make you my own.”
“You sound just like Marroc,” Pippin whispered.
Merry’s face became wrung with anguish. “How can you compare me to him? I would never hurt you. I love you.” He pulled Pippin into a crushing embrace. “I don’t want to lose you to him because I know all the misery he would put you through. I can’t allow that to happen. If you desire, I will make an offer to Paladin. I don’t like the idea, but I can’t let you fall into Marroc’s filthy hands.”
A wide smile grew on Pippin’s face, and he rained kisses all over Merry’s face, murmuring an apology when he touched the broken nose. “Do you mean it Merry?! Oh, I love you too! I’m sorry for the way I behaved! I should have never tried to make you jealous! It was wrong of me! I’m sorry! Oh, I love you!”
Merry chuckled, nipping at Pippin’s trembling lips. “My wonderful Took, you did nothing wrong. You were frightened and were only trying to get my attention, which worked very well.” Pippin giggled. “Come, let’s return to your home so I can negotiate with your father. I want things to get settled before Marroc comes and creates trouble.”
The two hobbits took off down the trail, heading back to the Took home. Soon, they were entering the hobbit hole, and they received twin stares of shock from Paladin and Eglantine.
"Merry, darling, your nose," Eglantine muttered. "Come here, and I can clean-"
She became silent as Paladin shot her an infuriated glance. He shot out of the chair, storming over to Pippin, who began to cower in terror.
“What are you doing here?!” Paladin roared. “I swear if you ran from Marroc I’ll— ”
Merry stepped in between the two, violently shoving Paladin to the floor. “He did no such thing. I was in a fight with Marroc, and he allowed me to take him home. I want Pippin.”
Paladin snorted. “Why should I care?”
“You care for gold, don’t you?” Merry asked, revolt echoing in his voice. “Whatever offer Marroc made you—I can do better.”
Paladin’s eyes widened, and he rubbed his chin, thinking intently. “He offered five hundred gold coins.”
“Then I will pay you one thousand,” Merry answered. “Do we have a deal?”
Paladin rose from the ground, and moved over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer. He pulled out a parchment, and handed it over to Merry.
“This a binding legal document,” Paladin grumbled. “It gives you full ownership of Pippin. The brat is yours now.”
“And the deal with Marroc?” Merry inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“Consider it off,” Paladin laughed. “You made the better deal.”
“Excellent,” Merry smirked. He reached to his belt and pulled out a pouch. “Here’s five hundred down payment. You’ll get the rest later.”
Paladin eagerly grabbed the pouch. Merry placed the document in Pippin’s hand and whipped around, ramming his fist into Paladin’s mouth. The hobbit grunted as his head was slammed back from the force of the violent hit, and he collapsed roughly to the ground. Eglantine gave high pitched shriek before rushing to her husband’s side, cradling his limp form while she rubbed at the blood trickling from the side of his mouth.
“Well, looks like we’re done here,” Merry snickered. “Come Pip. I believe it is time for us to wed. Are you sure you want me for life?”
Pippin gave a warm smile. “There’s no one else that I want, Merry. I want to be by your side until the end of our days. I love you so.”
The two walked out hand in hand. Paladin rubbed at his face and sat back up, glaring in Merry’s direction.
“Send a message to Marroc,” Paladin snarled. “Tell him that Merry is taking ‘his’ prize back to Buckland and intends to marry him.”
“But dear, you gave Pippin to— ” Eglantine began.
“The document is a fake!” Paladin interrupted. “The real one is still in the library. Did you actually think I would hand Pippin over to that rotten Brandybuck?! I was just trying to cheat him out of some money! He doesn’t own Pippin! I still do, and by the end of this day he will belong to Marroc Smallburrows!”
To be continued.
Chapter 2
Chapter 4
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