By: Dana
Summary: Somewhere between Rivendell and Moria.
Characters: Merry, Pippin (and the Fellowship)
Pairings: Merry/Pippin
Rating: G
Warnings: Slash
Author's Notes: For Pipwise, for my birthday.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

The night might be dark but at least the stars are out to guide them. It seems that they're all in a mess, and they've been walking since before dusk had fully fallen – since before the first of the now-bright stars had come out. But Pippin's feet are no more tired and sore than they'd been the day before, and the day before that. He'd looked forward to a good hot meal, and another to follow, and isn't that a ridiculous reason for him to think that he might regret that he'd been allowed along on Frodo's quest? Perhaps he shouldn't have pressed – but then, perhaps Gandalf shouldn't have gone and been the most insensible of all, and sided with him when he had insisted that he would go with Frodo – that being at Frodo's side could be his only place.

Pippin groans and then looks ahead. He hardly has any need to be at Frodo's side, not when Gandalf has taken that place, and with Sam at Frodo's right. Better him than – oh. Better it be Gandalf, and Sam. Though he knows what Merry would be thinking about the current situation, all the same.

At least he's still at Merry's side. That's almost as good. Anyhow, Gandalf and Frodo are probably talking about things that he wouldn't understand or even want to comprehend – maybe it would have been best if he'd paid more attention when they'd been looking over maps when they'd been back in Rivendell. Well, he can't very well turn back all the days since then, and have himself another chance. It almost feels as if he's glaring at Gandalf's back, but other than the walking conditions and knowing that the evil things that seem to be lurking about don't have any sort of sense of timing, Pippin doesn't know why he'd have reason to glare.

It's hours still that they'll be walking. And the sky is all but clear.

He leans to the right, and he's still watching Gandalf's back but he's more interested in Merry and what Merry might want to say, and he talks low so that his words will only carry to Merry's ear. "When do you think we'll get a rest? It isn't that I think I need one, but you know, we've our dear cousin to think of." It isn't just that. And given that they've come as far as they have, he wouldn't want to have Aragorn or even Gandalf think that he was nothing more than a bother. "I wish we could talk with Frodo. What do you think they're talking about, Merry?"

Merry's chuckle is the tired sort that means he'd much rather be in a bed but likely doesn't mind all this walking as much as Pippin – not that Pippin wants to think that he really minds, and he wouldn't want Merry thinking that, either. Merry is like that, though, and there are a wide sort of things that should bother him, or that he should mind – like Pippin thinking that there's time for doing other things than sleeping, when they should be resting, and there aren't enough hours in the day and even the night, for all that he needs to do, as well as what he'd rather. But touching and kissing are like being able to touch home, and Pippin rather has rather become accustomed to thinking that they've gone no further from home than their own backyard – though he knows they've all gone much further than that. Merry speaks, and brings Pippin from his thoughts: "Things that aren't much of our concern, I wager. But we'll find out all about it, in the morning."

Pippin tilts his gaze so it finds itself swimming in stars. "In the morning, all I'll want to do is sleep." But then he bumps his shoulder against Merry's, and he's smiling, and he's all but whispering, too.

Merry seems to see that as the invitation that Pippin knew it was but hadn't been aware of at the time. But Merry lifts his arm up from under his cloak, and then he puts his arm about Pippin's shoulder. Pippin slides his arm about Merry's waist, letting his arm wind itself beneath the cover of Merry's dark cloak. He likes being close like this – because it's familiar and it's Merry and the night might be cool and it might smell faintly musty, like there's too much dust in the air, but Merry is just properly warm – and the only time Merry might smell musty is if he's been spending too much time in the Brandy Hall libraries, or spending too much time in Frodo's study, and those are both things that he's done and done before. "Well, first we'll talk to Frodo, and find out what he's been talking about and what he's been keeping from us, thinking that it's for our best – and then we'll sleep."

Pippin nods, as he does like the sound of that. But then, as good as it sounds (and it does sound good, Pippin thinks it might be even better than that). With that in mind, he shakes his head, and then he says: "No. Well, yes, but no. First off, we should have ourselves something of a breakfast – not that I fear it will be that appetizing, given out limited sources. But after that, we'll talk to Frodo. And after that, we'll go to sleep." He thinks that this is all sound thinking, and only the best that they can expect. And anyhow, one more night walking means that they're one day closer to – to, well, the end.

"Sounds marvelous," Merry says, and Pippin can't help but smile at the smile that he can hear in Merry's voice. "In the morning it is, and we'll find out all that Frodo has most certainly not been telling us. You'd think he'd know better, by now. At least, that he'd know us."

"Yes, you'd think he would," Pippin says, and Frodo stumbles at Gandalf's side – and it's Sam who rights him, and Sam's voice floats closer, warm against the cool night air. Pippin feels he might smile even wider, at that. Well, Frodo knew he was picking a good sort, Pippin thinks, when he went and picked Sam.

They walk on for as long as they can, with the stars watching them from overhead.