(no subject)
TITLE: “The History of Us: A Yule Promise, Part 4”
AUTHOR: Daisy Gamgee
AUTHOR’S EMAIL: daisygamgee@gmail.com
PAIRING: Merry/Pippin
RATING: NC-17.
PART: 4 of 4 (Looky, I finished something! Huzzah!). Part 1 begins here.
ARCHIVE: No, don’t.
WARNINGS: This is unadulterated, unapologetic homoerotic fantasy romance SCHMOOP. I’m serious, here-don’t read this if you’re a psychologically diabetic hardass, or a robot, or Rick Santorum…wait, no, come to think of it, Rick Sanscrotum should read this. It’s everything Bill Frist is afraid of!!
DISCLAIMERS: Y’all realize that all this thing does is declare that you know damned well you’re committing copyright infringement, yeah? That said: No copyright infringement intended. Besides, there’s no point in suing me, I’m a grad student.
And, truth to tell, he wasn’t nervous, not one bit. He wondered about that-perhaps he should be nervous, after all, standing here with Pippin, surrounded by those who meant the most to him in all the world, with Sam right here ready and able to declare them truly and legally married, now, forever, and for all time. But he wasn’t. He was calm, and clear-headed, and ready. He smiled and took Pippin’s hand, which, he was pleased to find, was warm and smooth and firm.
“Well, lads,” Sam began, “here we are, then, at last. This didn’t seem possible a few weeks ago, but I think it always was, somehow, that you two would be here, right now, and it would be right and proper.” He smiled. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” they both said. Merry stifled a small laugh, hearing the carefully controlled exuberance in Pippin’s voice.
Sam looked at Pippin, then at Merry, then at the fireplace behind them with a fleeting wistfulness, and Merry knew that Sam was thinking of someone else who should have been there with them, sharing the moment, maybe making a joke about neither of them having the slightest idea what they were letting themselves in for. A glance at Pippin told him that he knew what Sam was thinking, as well, and they each took one of Sam’s hands and squeezed.
“Yes. Well.” Sam cleared his throat, smiled, then put Merry and Pippin’s hands together and patted them. “If anyone here knows so much as one good reason why these two shouldn’t be married, say it now, and be done. Otherwise, lads, you’re going to have to go through with it.”
Everyone laughed, even Miro and the other children, even though they didn’t really know why they were laughing.
“No objections? Not even from you two? Well. You’re right stuck, then.” Sam nodded, and turned to Saradoc, who handed him a small bundle wrapped in white cloth. “Both the Rohan and Gondor folk seal their weddings with a blood oath, and these boys came to me last night and said that that seems right for them, as well.”
He handed the knife handle toward them, and after a moment’s hesitation, Merry took it, and Pippin’s hand, and made a quick small stroke across his palm. He handed the knife and his hand to Pippin, who did the same, then Sam reached to them again and pressed their palms together, blood to blood, and wound the white cloth around their hands.
“I don’t have no fancy words to say, lads. Maybe they do in the West, with kings and knights and whatnot. But here, in the Shire, it don’t matter what I say, it only matters that you two are one blood, one mind, one heart, and say so here in front of family and friends that you mean to live together, for each other, and never part. These lads have written something between them, and that will be their solemn vow.” He handed Pippin a small book, opened to a marked page. Pippin took it, cleared this throat, and read.
“Meriadoc.” His voice shook, and he took a second to compose himself. “My own Merry. I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death, and know that will not be the end, for we will meet again beyond the sea. With my earnest and complete devotion, I give you my love.” He smiled, proud of himself to have gotten it all said without a mistake, and Merry distinctly heard his mother making a valiant effort not to sob. Pippin handed the book to Merry.
Merry, however, had no need of the book, but kept it open in his hand as he spoke. “Peregrin. My dearest Pippin. I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death, and know that will not be the end, for we will meet again beyond the sea. With my earnest and complete devotion, I give you my love.” Well,, he thought with relief, that went a little better than the proposal. And, he noted, his mother had given up her effort, and from the corner of his eye he saw his father take the baby from her arms and hand her a large handkerchief.
“Well said,” Sam declared, and with a deft movement, tied the cloth around their hands into a simple knot. “Dear friends, you are wed.”
The cheer that went up in the room went barely noticed by the newlyweds, who didn’t need a directive from the Mayor to seal their union with a kiss.
** ** **
“I just wish you’d warned me, is all, so I could have the ointment ready. Who thought this up, anyway? Drawing blood at a wedding!” Estella huffed. “Well. Neither of you cut very deep, so that should heal in a few days.”
Merry winced as she dressed his hand. “You got the ointment with the worst sting on purpose, Stella, I swear you did. Ow!” He jerked, and was rebuked with a smack to his hand. “All the weddings in Gondor and Rohan do it, and sometimes soldiers in battle do, too, if they need to be sure of each other. This stuff hurts more than the knife did. We’re the same blood now, that’s the point.”
“You already were, you turnip, he’s your cousin.” Estella smiled and playfully cuffed Merry to the head. “That was a beautiful wedding. I think your mother is still crying.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He smiled at her, then kissed her cheek. “You’re a jewel, Estella Bolger. Whoever marries you will be one lucky bastard.”
She laughed heartily. “More like a poor beleaguered desperate bastard. I am hardly a prize.”
“On the contrary, you’re the most sought-after lass in the Bucklands. Don’t look at me like that, you are.”
“I don’t believe you, but you’re very sweet to say it.” She laughed, then leaned over quickly and kissed Merry. “Ha! I got the first kiss from the groom. Well, one of them, anyway. I should go find Pippin and make it a pair.” She patted Merry’s cheek and stood, packing up her small medicine bag.
“EeeeeeeeAAAAaaaah!”
The shriek was followed by Pippin carrying a squirming Faramir, and neither of them looked at all pleased.
“No biscuits until after lunch. You know the rule. Stop it, now.” Pippin frowned sternly at Miro, who scowled back at him. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’ll not have it.”
Miro pouted outrageously and smacked his father on the shoulder.
“Faramir Took. That was wrong.” Merry stood, and glowered at the baby, who stopped pouting and burst into tears.
“Uh-oh, lads, I’ll get out of your way, shall I? Leave the newlyweds to do whatever newlyweds do when bedtime’s not for hours yet and there’s a squalling babe at hand.” Estella grinned, kissed Pippin soundly, winked at Merry, then grabbed her bag and headed out to the hallway.
“Oh, hush, baby boy, you’ve not been injured. Sssh, now.” Pippin bounced Miro gently, and after a moment the baby quieted, although his frown continued. “Needs a nap, he does. Here, kiss me, Merry, it’s been at least ten minutes since you have.”
Merry obliged, and Faramir made smacking noises against his hand until both Merry and Pippin turned and kissed the boy’s cheeks, earning pleased giggles.
“All right, then? That’s better. Here, go see what’s in the toy basket.” Pippin set the baby down, and Faramir crawled over to a basket under the end table. “He’s going to walk any day now.”
“And then before we know it he’ll be off on some grand adventure of his own.” Merry sighed, then smiled at Pippin. “Like, say, getting married.”
“Oooh, I don’t know, that one’s kind of scary.” Pippin laughed. “But I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen.” He sat on the sofa next to Merry and took his bandaged hand, examining it. “I think Stella overdressed us both, with the ointment and gauze. It’s not much of a cut.”
“Just enough to get the job done.” Merry examined Pippin’s hand in turn. “I don’t think we’ll scar.”
“I wouldn’t mind if we did. I have deeper scars for less good reason.” His expression clouded for a moment, but it passed in a breath. “Well, the paper is all signed and sealed and witnessed and we’re good and stuck with each other, so now what are we going to do?”
Merry shrugged with a smile. “What we’ve always done, Pip-love each other and do our best. Although, really, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re going to ask me for for my birthdays now.”
“I’m sure I can think of something. Faramir, put that down, sweetheart. No, get the ball instead. There’s a good lad.”
A knock on the door sounded, and at Merry’s “Come in” it opened.
“Luncheon is ready!” Esmeralda announced; Merry noticed that her nose was a bit red, still, but her eyes sparkled and he was quite sure she hadn’t stopped smiling since she awoke, tears or no tears. “I think our guests might be expecting a little speech, lads, just to warn you.”
“I’d thought so,” Merry said. “Although all they’re likely to get is ‘I’m the luckiest lad in all the Shire’ about twelve times.”
“No, that’s my speech,” Pippin protested.
“We’ll share, then.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, come on before the brisket gets cold.”
“Brisket!” Pippin jumped to his feet. “Well, let’s go, Merry. There’s brisket!” He scooped up the baby and headed for the door.
“Why didn’t you ever name a cat Brisket?” Merry mused aloud. “Or, for that matter, Toadstool, or Deadly Nightshade, considering how evil most of them are. Ouch!”
** ** **
“That,” Pippin said with a deeply happy sigh, “was a lovely day.”
“Yes,” Merry said simply, and stretched his feet toward the fire. He had a cup of very good wine in his hand, another full bottle of the same vintage on the sideboard, a roaring fire, a big soft clean turned-down bed, a full belly, and his husband-now truly his husband-reclining against his legs, submitting to Merry’s combing through his hair with a languid content. “You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing in all the world.”
“Mmmmno, you are,” Pippin replied agreeably. He ran his hand up Merry’s calf. “Do you feel any different?”
“Hmm? About what? Oh, being married, you mean?” At Pippin’s nod, Merry pondered. “No. Except that now the whole world feels as though it’s been set right, finally.”
“Me, too.” Pippin sighed. “I think mayhap if you feel too different after the wedding, then it wasn’t the right thing to do.” He sounded a bit faraway and sad, but quickly recovered. “Aunt Esmy said the same thing this morning.”
“Oh? Da and I were wondering what she was telling you while we were back in the cellars pretending to look for flowers.” He tugged gently at Pippin’s hair. “What did she say to you?”
Pippin chuckled. “That she was happy for us, and grateful to Sam and Rose, and if I ever left you again she’d make bacon out of me, and something about how you’re a cranky old goat if you spend too much time in your books and to get you out and in the orchards more often. I told her I knew about the cranky old goat part, at least. Oi! You’ll make me spill my wine.” He took a long drink to ward off future mishaps. “What did Uncle tell you?”
“That he had nothing to tell me,” Merry said. “Well, aside from he loves us and when I’m angry to remember you’re a Took and you can’t help it.” He laughed at Pippin’s reaction. “Well, really, Pip.”
“You’re as much a Took as I am,” Pippin said reasonably. “But you seem to handle it better somehow.”
This stuck Merry as so funny that he did make Pippin spill his wine, and he had to get up to get a rag to wipe it up. He returned to find Pippin had taken over the armchair. “Oh, you are the brat.”
“Squeeze in here with me.”
“We are much too large for that chair,” Merry said, and mopped up the spill. He tossed the rag into the hamper and rinsed his hands at the washstand. “So we should just move to the bed.”
“That is a grand idea. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it myself.” His smile betrayed that he had most assuredly been thinking just that, and he stood and took Merry’s hand, leading him to the bed. He pushed Merry to make him sit, then crawled into his lap, tipping Merry’s head back. “And now I have you right where I’ve wanted you all day.”
“Ahh, then I am yours.” Merry smiled up into eyes the color of fresh grass on a spring afternoon. “I have always been, and shall always be, yours, Peregrin Took.”
“Good,” Pippin said, then laughed into a kiss. He pushed Merry’s hair off his forehead and considered him closely. “I know every little line of your face, every eyelash, every movement, and you still seem as new to me as you were when I first saw you.”
“You’re a silly thing,” Merry said fondly. “Are you going to be a poet now, so I can lay down my pen?”
“Psssh, like you ever could. Like I have any poetry in me, save for you.” He rocked his hips against Merry’s. “And most of my poetry doesn’t have words.” He grinned as Merry laughed. “Shall I show you?”
“That would be lovely,” Merry replied, and found himself on his back rather suddenly, his buttons undone with one good pull, and his trousers down at his ankles. “Pippin.”
A throaty chuckle answered him, and then Pippin’s mouth was on him.
“Ohhhhh, honey.” Merry slipped his fingers into Pippin’s hair, then let one hand slide down to Pippin’s cheek, a finger toward his mouth, to feel himself moving against lips eagerly sucking. “”Mercy, that’s nice.” The chuckle that answered him vibrated quite pleasantly.
It was good, it was good, but after a sweet while, he wanted something more, and took a deep breath. “Stop, lovely. Stop, please, I don’t want to come yet.”
“Ohhhh,” Pippin grumbled gently, and raised his head. “What do you want, then, hmm?” He smiled wickedly and Merry twitched against him. “Ahh, that’s what I’d thought. Here, let’s get these clothes off.” He pulled Merry’s tunic off him quickly, then disrobed himself with such alacrity that Merry barely had a chance to register that he was nude before Pippin pressed him full length with skin warmed by the fire and his arousal. “That is much, much better.”
“It certainly is.” He smiled when Pippin nudged his knees apart. “And that’s better still. Oh, yes, right there.” Merry grunted. “Aren’t you the eager one.”
“Very. Reach up under my pillow and get that little bottle.”
Merry did, squirming a bit as Pippin suckled his chest. “Wait, this is new. Where did you get this?” He sniffed at the cork. “Pippin. Were you raiding Estella’s bag?”
“Wedding present.” Pippin took the bottle from Merry’s hand. “And if we like it, she has some with plum blossoms, too. But this stuff…” He waggled the bottle and his eyebrows, and Merry couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear there’s sweetgrass in it.”
“Sweetgrass? What possible reason would……..Ohhhhhhhhh, that is nice, yes.” Merry raised his knees and closed his eyes to concentrate. He gasped, and Pippin took the advantage in a kiss, then the fingers retreated and Pippin pushed Merry’s legs up and apart. “Yes, yes, yes,” Merry murmured, and grunted as Pippin nudged inside him, gently coaxing. “Now,” he commanded, and pulled Pippin into his arms and his body with a happy groan.
And Pippin was indeed a poet without words-his hands, his body, his kiss, his breath, his oh so hard cock moving pushing claiming and Merry read the poetry in every heartbeat, and when Pippin directed that he come, Merry did, and gladly, and laughed in joy when Pippin’s body answered deep inside him.
“I love you,” Pippin gasped, and collapsed onto Merry’s chest, sighing with a little cough. “I am undone.”
“I love you, too, you beautiful thing.” Merry kissed a sweaty temple. “You couldn’t get an annulment now, you know. We’ve gone and consummated those vows.” He chuckled into Pippin’s kiss.
“I had rather planned to keep you, after all,” Pippin said warmly. He withdrew gently and settled in at Merry’s side. “Forever and ever, Merry. And even longer, if Gandalf told me true.”
“I’m sure he did, Pip,” Merry said, and turned to gaze into wide eyes. “He’d been there, after all.”
“Will Frodo be there? And Gandalf and Bilbo? I do wish they could have been with us today.” Pippin ran a finger over Merry’s cheek. “We’ll have another wedding when we reach the shore, then.”
Merry laughed, and rolled to his side to face him. “As long as there’s another wedding night to go with it, certainly so.” He tugged the blankets up to cover them and gathered Pippin close. “You know I adore you to the end of time, Peregrin Took.”
“And beyond even that, I love you, too.” Pippin sighed happily and burrowed in closer. “All these years, loving you and wanting you and asking to marry you, and here we are, and it’s true. It’s come to the end at last.”
“The end?” Merry laughed. “Oh, no, dear boy, not that. Never that. This, my darling lad, is only the beginning.” He kissed Pippin quite soundly. “Aren’t you sleepy?”
“No,” Pippin said with a mischievous grin, and pulled Merry even closer.
** ** **
AUTHOR: Daisy Gamgee
AUTHOR’S EMAIL: daisygamgee@gmail.com
PAIRING: Merry/Pippin
RATING: NC-17.
PART: 4 of 4 (Looky, I finished something! Huzzah!). Part 1 begins here.
ARCHIVE: No, don’t.
WARNINGS: This is unadulterated, unapologetic homoerotic fantasy romance SCHMOOP. I’m serious, here-don’t read this if you’re a psychologically diabetic hardass, or a robot, or Rick Santorum…wait, no, come to think of it, Rick Sanscrotum should read this. It’s everything Bill Frist is afraid of!!
DISCLAIMERS: Y’all realize that all this thing does is declare that you know damned well you’re committing copyright infringement, yeah? That said: No copyright infringement intended. Besides, there’s no point in suing me, I’m a grad student.
And, truth to tell, he wasn’t nervous, not one bit. He wondered about that-perhaps he should be nervous, after all, standing here with Pippin, surrounded by those who meant the most to him in all the world, with Sam right here ready and able to declare them truly and legally married, now, forever, and for all time. But he wasn’t. He was calm, and clear-headed, and ready. He smiled and took Pippin’s hand, which, he was pleased to find, was warm and smooth and firm.
“Well, lads,” Sam began, “here we are, then, at last. This didn’t seem possible a few weeks ago, but I think it always was, somehow, that you two would be here, right now, and it would be right and proper.” He smiled. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” they both said. Merry stifled a small laugh, hearing the carefully controlled exuberance in Pippin’s voice.
Sam looked at Pippin, then at Merry, then at the fireplace behind them with a fleeting wistfulness, and Merry knew that Sam was thinking of someone else who should have been there with them, sharing the moment, maybe making a joke about neither of them having the slightest idea what they were letting themselves in for. A glance at Pippin told him that he knew what Sam was thinking, as well, and they each took one of Sam’s hands and squeezed.
“Yes. Well.” Sam cleared his throat, smiled, then put Merry and Pippin’s hands together and patted them. “If anyone here knows so much as one good reason why these two shouldn’t be married, say it now, and be done. Otherwise, lads, you’re going to have to go through with it.”
Everyone laughed, even Miro and the other children, even though they didn’t really know why they were laughing.
“No objections? Not even from you two? Well. You’re right stuck, then.” Sam nodded, and turned to Saradoc, who handed him a small bundle wrapped in white cloth. “Both the Rohan and Gondor folk seal their weddings with a blood oath, and these boys came to me last night and said that that seems right for them, as well.”
He handed the knife handle toward them, and after a moment’s hesitation, Merry took it, and Pippin’s hand, and made a quick small stroke across his palm. He handed the knife and his hand to Pippin, who did the same, then Sam reached to them again and pressed their palms together, blood to blood, and wound the white cloth around their hands.
“I don’t have no fancy words to say, lads. Maybe they do in the West, with kings and knights and whatnot. But here, in the Shire, it don’t matter what I say, it only matters that you two are one blood, one mind, one heart, and say so here in front of family and friends that you mean to live together, for each other, and never part. These lads have written something between them, and that will be their solemn vow.” He handed Pippin a small book, opened to a marked page. Pippin took it, cleared this throat, and read.
“Meriadoc.” His voice shook, and he took a second to compose himself. “My own Merry. I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death, and know that will not be the end, for we will meet again beyond the sea. With my earnest and complete devotion, I give you my love.” He smiled, proud of himself to have gotten it all said without a mistake, and Merry distinctly heard his mother making a valiant effort not to sob. Pippin handed the book to Merry.
Merry, however, had no need of the book, but kept it open in his hand as he spoke. “Peregrin. My dearest Pippin. I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death, and know that will not be the end, for we will meet again beyond the sea. With my earnest and complete devotion, I give you my love.” Well,, he thought with relief, that went a little better than the proposal. And, he noted, his mother had given up her effort, and from the corner of his eye he saw his father take the baby from her arms and hand her a large handkerchief.
“Well said,” Sam declared, and with a deft movement, tied the cloth around their hands into a simple knot. “Dear friends, you are wed.”
The cheer that went up in the room went barely noticed by the newlyweds, who didn’t need a directive from the Mayor to seal their union with a kiss.
** ** **
“I just wish you’d warned me, is all, so I could have the ointment ready. Who thought this up, anyway? Drawing blood at a wedding!” Estella huffed. “Well. Neither of you cut very deep, so that should heal in a few days.”
Merry winced as she dressed his hand. “You got the ointment with the worst sting on purpose, Stella, I swear you did. Ow!” He jerked, and was rebuked with a smack to his hand. “All the weddings in Gondor and Rohan do it, and sometimes soldiers in battle do, too, if they need to be sure of each other. This stuff hurts more than the knife did. We’re the same blood now, that’s the point.”
“You already were, you turnip, he’s your cousin.” Estella smiled and playfully cuffed Merry to the head. “That was a beautiful wedding. I think your mother is still crying.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He smiled at her, then kissed her cheek. “You’re a jewel, Estella Bolger. Whoever marries you will be one lucky bastard.”
She laughed heartily. “More like a poor beleaguered desperate bastard. I am hardly a prize.”
“On the contrary, you’re the most sought-after lass in the Bucklands. Don’t look at me like that, you are.”
“I don’t believe you, but you’re very sweet to say it.” She laughed, then leaned over quickly and kissed Merry. “Ha! I got the first kiss from the groom. Well, one of them, anyway. I should go find Pippin and make it a pair.” She patted Merry’s cheek and stood, packing up her small medicine bag.
“EeeeeeeeAAAAaaaah!”
The shriek was followed by Pippin carrying a squirming Faramir, and neither of them looked at all pleased.
“No biscuits until after lunch. You know the rule. Stop it, now.” Pippin frowned sternly at Miro, who scowled back at him. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’ll not have it.”
Miro pouted outrageously and smacked his father on the shoulder.
“Faramir Took. That was wrong.” Merry stood, and glowered at the baby, who stopped pouting and burst into tears.
“Uh-oh, lads, I’ll get out of your way, shall I? Leave the newlyweds to do whatever newlyweds do when bedtime’s not for hours yet and there’s a squalling babe at hand.” Estella grinned, kissed Pippin soundly, winked at Merry, then grabbed her bag and headed out to the hallway.
“Oh, hush, baby boy, you’ve not been injured. Sssh, now.” Pippin bounced Miro gently, and after a moment the baby quieted, although his frown continued. “Needs a nap, he does. Here, kiss me, Merry, it’s been at least ten minutes since you have.”
Merry obliged, and Faramir made smacking noises against his hand until both Merry and Pippin turned and kissed the boy’s cheeks, earning pleased giggles.
“All right, then? That’s better. Here, go see what’s in the toy basket.” Pippin set the baby down, and Faramir crawled over to a basket under the end table. “He’s going to walk any day now.”
“And then before we know it he’ll be off on some grand adventure of his own.” Merry sighed, then smiled at Pippin. “Like, say, getting married.”
“Oooh, I don’t know, that one’s kind of scary.” Pippin laughed. “But I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen.” He sat on the sofa next to Merry and took his bandaged hand, examining it. “I think Stella overdressed us both, with the ointment and gauze. It’s not much of a cut.”
“Just enough to get the job done.” Merry examined Pippin’s hand in turn. “I don’t think we’ll scar.”
“I wouldn’t mind if we did. I have deeper scars for less good reason.” His expression clouded for a moment, but it passed in a breath. “Well, the paper is all signed and sealed and witnessed and we’re good and stuck with each other, so now what are we going to do?”
Merry shrugged with a smile. “What we’ve always done, Pip-love each other and do our best. Although, really, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re going to ask me for for my birthdays now.”
“I’m sure I can think of something. Faramir, put that down, sweetheart. No, get the ball instead. There’s a good lad.”
A knock on the door sounded, and at Merry’s “Come in” it opened.
“Luncheon is ready!” Esmeralda announced; Merry noticed that her nose was a bit red, still, but her eyes sparkled and he was quite sure she hadn’t stopped smiling since she awoke, tears or no tears. “I think our guests might be expecting a little speech, lads, just to warn you.”
“I’d thought so,” Merry said. “Although all they’re likely to get is ‘I’m the luckiest lad in all the Shire’ about twelve times.”
“No, that’s my speech,” Pippin protested.
“We’ll share, then.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, come on before the brisket gets cold.”
“Brisket!” Pippin jumped to his feet. “Well, let’s go, Merry. There’s brisket!” He scooped up the baby and headed for the door.
“Why didn’t you ever name a cat Brisket?” Merry mused aloud. “Or, for that matter, Toadstool, or Deadly Nightshade, considering how evil most of them are. Ouch!”
** ** **
“That,” Pippin said with a deeply happy sigh, “was a lovely day.”
“Yes,” Merry said simply, and stretched his feet toward the fire. He had a cup of very good wine in his hand, another full bottle of the same vintage on the sideboard, a roaring fire, a big soft clean turned-down bed, a full belly, and his husband-now truly his husband-reclining against his legs, submitting to Merry’s combing through his hair with a languid content. “You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing in all the world.”
“Mmmmno, you are,” Pippin replied agreeably. He ran his hand up Merry’s calf. “Do you feel any different?”
“Hmm? About what? Oh, being married, you mean?” At Pippin’s nod, Merry pondered. “No. Except that now the whole world feels as though it’s been set right, finally.”
“Me, too.” Pippin sighed. “I think mayhap if you feel too different after the wedding, then it wasn’t the right thing to do.” He sounded a bit faraway and sad, but quickly recovered. “Aunt Esmy said the same thing this morning.”
“Oh? Da and I were wondering what she was telling you while we were back in the cellars pretending to look for flowers.” He tugged gently at Pippin’s hair. “What did she say to you?”
Pippin chuckled. “That she was happy for us, and grateful to Sam and Rose, and if I ever left you again she’d make bacon out of me, and something about how you’re a cranky old goat if you spend too much time in your books and to get you out and in the orchards more often. I told her I knew about the cranky old goat part, at least. Oi! You’ll make me spill my wine.” He took a long drink to ward off future mishaps. “What did Uncle tell you?”
“That he had nothing to tell me,” Merry said. “Well, aside from he loves us and when I’m angry to remember you’re a Took and you can’t help it.” He laughed at Pippin’s reaction. “Well, really, Pip.”
“You’re as much a Took as I am,” Pippin said reasonably. “But you seem to handle it better somehow.”
This stuck Merry as so funny that he did make Pippin spill his wine, and he had to get up to get a rag to wipe it up. He returned to find Pippin had taken over the armchair. “Oh, you are the brat.”
“Squeeze in here with me.”
“We are much too large for that chair,” Merry said, and mopped up the spill. He tossed the rag into the hamper and rinsed his hands at the washstand. “So we should just move to the bed.”
“That is a grand idea. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it myself.” His smile betrayed that he had most assuredly been thinking just that, and he stood and took Merry’s hand, leading him to the bed. He pushed Merry to make him sit, then crawled into his lap, tipping Merry’s head back. “And now I have you right where I’ve wanted you all day.”
“Ahh, then I am yours.” Merry smiled up into eyes the color of fresh grass on a spring afternoon. “I have always been, and shall always be, yours, Peregrin Took.”
“Good,” Pippin said, then laughed into a kiss. He pushed Merry’s hair off his forehead and considered him closely. “I know every little line of your face, every eyelash, every movement, and you still seem as new to me as you were when I first saw you.”
“You’re a silly thing,” Merry said fondly. “Are you going to be a poet now, so I can lay down my pen?”
“Psssh, like you ever could. Like I have any poetry in me, save for you.” He rocked his hips against Merry’s. “And most of my poetry doesn’t have words.” He grinned as Merry laughed. “Shall I show you?”
“That would be lovely,” Merry replied, and found himself on his back rather suddenly, his buttons undone with one good pull, and his trousers down at his ankles. “Pippin.”
A throaty chuckle answered him, and then Pippin’s mouth was on him.
“Ohhhhh, honey.” Merry slipped his fingers into Pippin’s hair, then let one hand slide down to Pippin’s cheek, a finger toward his mouth, to feel himself moving against lips eagerly sucking. “”Mercy, that’s nice.” The chuckle that answered him vibrated quite pleasantly.
It was good, it was good, but after a sweet while, he wanted something more, and took a deep breath. “Stop, lovely. Stop, please, I don’t want to come yet.”
“Ohhhh,” Pippin grumbled gently, and raised his head. “What do you want, then, hmm?” He smiled wickedly and Merry twitched against him. “Ahh, that’s what I’d thought. Here, let’s get these clothes off.” He pulled Merry’s tunic off him quickly, then disrobed himself with such alacrity that Merry barely had a chance to register that he was nude before Pippin pressed him full length with skin warmed by the fire and his arousal. “That is much, much better.”
“It certainly is.” He smiled when Pippin nudged his knees apart. “And that’s better still. Oh, yes, right there.” Merry grunted. “Aren’t you the eager one.”
“Very. Reach up under my pillow and get that little bottle.”
Merry did, squirming a bit as Pippin suckled his chest. “Wait, this is new. Where did you get this?” He sniffed at the cork. “Pippin. Were you raiding Estella’s bag?”
“Wedding present.” Pippin took the bottle from Merry’s hand. “And if we like it, she has some with plum blossoms, too. But this stuff…” He waggled the bottle and his eyebrows, and Merry couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear there’s sweetgrass in it.”
“Sweetgrass? What possible reason would……..Ohhhhhhhhh, that is nice, yes.” Merry raised his knees and closed his eyes to concentrate. He gasped, and Pippin took the advantage in a kiss, then the fingers retreated and Pippin pushed Merry’s legs up and apart. “Yes, yes, yes,” Merry murmured, and grunted as Pippin nudged inside him, gently coaxing. “Now,” he commanded, and pulled Pippin into his arms and his body with a happy groan.
And Pippin was indeed a poet without words-his hands, his body, his kiss, his breath, his oh so hard cock moving pushing claiming and Merry read the poetry in every heartbeat, and when Pippin directed that he come, Merry did, and gladly, and laughed in joy when Pippin’s body answered deep inside him.
“I love you,” Pippin gasped, and collapsed onto Merry’s chest, sighing with a little cough. “I am undone.”
“I love you, too, you beautiful thing.” Merry kissed a sweaty temple. “You couldn’t get an annulment now, you know. We’ve gone and consummated those vows.” He chuckled into Pippin’s kiss.
“I had rather planned to keep you, after all,” Pippin said warmly. He withdrew gently and settled in at Merry’s side. “Forever and ever, Merry. And even longer, if Gandalf told me true.”
“I’m sure he did, Pip,” Merry said, and turned to gaze into wide eyes. “He’d been there, after all.”
“Will Frodo be there? And Gandalf and Bilbo? I do wish they could have been with us today.” Pippin ran a finger over Merry’s cheek. “We’ll have another wedding when we reach the shore, then.”
Merry laughed, and rolled to his side to face him. “As long as there’s another wedding night to go with it, certainly so.” He tugged the blankets up to cover them and gathered Pippin close. “You know I adore you to the end of time, Peregrin Took.”
“And beyond even that, I love you, too.” Pippin sighed happily and burrowed in closer. “All these years, loving you and wanting you and asking to marry you, and here we are, and it’s true. It’s come to the end at last.”
“The end?” Merry laughed. “Oh, no, dear boy, not that. Never that. This, my darling lad, is only the beginning.” He kissed Pippin quite soundly. “Aren’t you sleepy?”
“No,” Pippin said with a mischievous grin, and pulled Merry even closer.
** ** **