By: Dana
Summary: Where Pippin think it's the end of the world, but it's really not that bad.
Characters: Pippin, Merry, Diamond
Pairings: Merry/Pippin, Pippin/Diamond
Rating: PG
Warnings: Vampire!hobbits, slash
Author's Notes: Written as a mathom for my birthday. Post-quest with a twist.
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.

"I just don't think that this is a good idea..."

Pippin sighed and batted at Merry's hands; but Merry was persistent, straightening out the collar of his cousin's finest coat. Pippin fidgeted, frowning. His rooms at the Great Smials had never felt like such a prison, as they did today.

And it was strange, as Merry was acting the warden.

"Honestly, Pip, it's not as terrible as you think."

"It's bad enough," was Pippin's muttered reply, and Merry chuckled as he flicked back one of the dark curls on Pippin's brow. Pippin sighed, turned a wounded gaze to Merry. "I just can't believe that you want me to go through with this."

"Well, we've known it would happen, Pippin," Merry replied. He continued to finger the collar, tracing over the fine embroidery. As an afterthought, he continued to speak. "You're acting like it's the end of the world."

"Maybe it is," Pippin replied plaintively. "And I thought that Orcs were terrible. I could use a bit of that liquor, it puts fire in your belly." He sighed then, softly, and reached out to catch Merry's wrists.

"If it's not the end of the world, why don't you take my place?"

Merry took a step back, slipping away from Pippin; he eyed him up and down, then nodded. It was the best suit that Pippin had, made especially for the day, and he tugged impatiently at the cuff. None of their clothing fit them, when they came back from the Quest. Just another way, to show how much that they'd changed.

"I would be honoured, cousin," and Merry's lips quirked in a grin, "but your father and mother would not be pleased, if I were to steal away Miss Diamond of Long Cleeve."

Pippin frowned. "I wouldn't mind."

Merry laughed.

Pippin was still frowning, and he brushed a hand back through his hair. "Are you certain? Perhaps Miss Diamond did wish to sit with you, and she simply got us confused. We are rather identical, you know."

Merry bit back a laugh. Pippin's expression was one of wounded pride. "Now you're laughing at me. Why, I ought to -"

Pippin advanced on Merry. Merry lifted up his hands. "I am not, Pippin! It's just that I don't think that Miss Diamond would be so easily fooled..."

Pippin sighed. "Well, we could try -" he began ardently.

"Pippin, we've different hair colour, for one, and I won't get started on our eyes. Somehow, I think that she would notice. I just don't make a suitable you."

Pippin threw his hands up in frustration, then sat back on the edge of his bed. "She just wants to get close, because I'm the son of the Thain."

"Well, Pip, that's just going to happen."

Merry stepped close, then, leaning down to settle his hands on Pippin's shoulders. Pippin's gaze shifted slightly, and their noses were pressed tip to tip. "Maybe that's the reason I'm close to you, too."

Pippin laughed, tilting his head, brushing their mouths together. "Somehow, I doubt it. It would make more sense," he murmured, "if I'd gotten close to you, what with you being the Master of Buckland's only son."

"Highly unlikely," whispered Merry, laughter in his voice; it mirrored in his eyes, too, and their lips slid together. There was a long moment of silence as they kissed, and that moment was broken with a small sound of distress, as Pippin sat back.

"Oh, you taste so good." He reached up, tangling his fingertips in Merry's soft hair. "This just isn't fair, love. It's not fair at all."

"Life is like that, Pippin. We've known that for as long as we've known this." And this was a kiss, soft and slow and sweet, building up like a bonfire, wanting to consume them both.

Pippin exhaled softly, against Merry's lips, and Merry tweaked one of Pippin's curls. Pippin reached up and caught that hand, turned so he could kiss Merry's wrist.

"I can feel your pulse, right here," he mumbled, then nipped with his teeth. Merry shuddered, breathed in sharp, and Pippin pulled him down.

"Oh, we're going to be late," Merry whispered, settling himself on Pippin's lap. Pippin laughed, softly, sharp, and pushed Merry's sleeve up so he could better access that soft patch of skin.

"We could be later, you know," and promise of later skimmed against sensitive skin. Merry shuddered, gripping Pippin's shoulder hard with his free hand. Pippin's mouth was happy to continue its exploration.

"We could," Pippin said again, like he was laughing at his own joke. "And afterwards, we could go down to the pub for an ale. And Miss Diamond will just have to understand."

Merry's reply was breathy, soft. "Perhaps she could join us, if she'd like."

Pippin laughed out loud, then bit Merry's wrist. Merry jerked and nearly fell from Pippin's lap. "Honestly, Pippin," he said, trying to keep hold of himself, "I just don't see why you like to bite."

"Well, I like the way you taste."

There was a knock at the door.

Cursing, Merry slid free of Pippin's lap, straightened his own collar, and ran his hands back through his hair. In the morning, there were be dark love marks on his wrist, the sign of Pippin's affection.

Pippin looked to the door, annoyed.

"What perfect timing," he said, and Merry glared.

"Straighten yourself up."

Pippin stuck his tongue out at Merry and did just that, as Merry went to answer the door. It was Pippin's middle sister waiting on the other side, and Pimpernel frowned as she took in Merry's rumpled state. Sometimes, she couldn't help but feel that their parents had been too accepting of all that Pippin did, especially when he came back from the dead.

"Only lads would spend their time wrestling, on so important a day."

Pimpernel pushed her way in past Merry, went to Pippin and put her hands on her hips. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Pippin rolled his eyes, and then, in the best apologetic tone that he could manage, said, "We seem to have lost track of the time."

Pimpernel nearly snorted, but that wouldn't have been ladylike at all. "Honestly, you." She took Pippin by the ear and Pippin cried out as he was pulled to his feet. Pimpernel cut an imposing figure, even if Pippin was now much taller than his sister would ever be.

Pippin glared, rubbed his ear. "You monster."

Pimpernel crossed her arms. "I'll show you a monster, if you don't get to the hall. You too, Merry, we couldn't leave you behind."

Pippin was directed from the room, then, and Pimpernel followed after. "Sending me to the wolves," Pippin said dramatically, and Pimpernel gasped.

"Peregrin Took! The North-tooks are hardly a bunch of wolves!"

"A pack, Nell. It's called a pack."

Pimpernel's lips twitched and Merry was trying hard not to laugh. "Well, then, I look forward to the day that Miss Diamond gets her claws in yo?, brother-dear." That sobered the moment, and Pimpernel stepped past them, smug.

Pippin looked to Merry, and there was doubt in his eyes.

"I just don't think that this is a good idea..."

On second thought, maybe it wasn't. Dinner went well, and there was nearly more than Pippin could eat. He knew that his parents, and Diamond's parents, as well, expected him to treat his could-be would-be fianc well. And Diamond Took wasn't as bad as Pippin had thought; she was certainly no Meriadoc Brandybuck, but she could have been worse, especially for a lass.

She was charming and sweet, and always knew just the right thing to say. They sat together at supper, and Diamond's pale, slim hand rested next to Pippin. She was slender for a hobbit, but it fit her. Oh, and she was pretty, with bright eyes, and honey coloured curls.

And the looks that she would give him, under thick lashes, with those bright dark eyes.

She was captivating.

After supper, spurred on by the pleasant meal, and pleasing company, Pippin extended an invitation to Diamond. They left the dining hall to walk in the gardens beyond the great front doors of the Great Smials. The moon was shining high in the sky, and the darkness was splattered with the light of the stars. It was a lovely night, the smell of night-blooming jasmine scenting the air; and Diamond continued to watch Pippin, out of those incredibly bright eyes.

"So, what do you think of the Great Smials? It must be different from your home."

"Oh, it is," Diamond replied, smiling. "It is nothing like Long Cleeve, I fear."

"Oh, well do you like it here, then?"

"Is it so important to know?"

Pippin nodded, and Diamond was still smiling as she reached out to grip his hand. It was strange, yes, and he could hardly breathe; and he could much less care that the hand holding his own was as cold as ice.

"I do."

"Good," and Pippin held his breath. "What you feel about living here, then?"

"Rather bold of you, Master Took."

"One of my good qualities, you see, Mistress Took." He laughed. "See, Diamond, we already fit together so well." He fit together with Merry, too, but that seemed distant. It hardly mattered at all.

Diamond laughed again, bright and sharp like bells. She twirled away from him, and his hand was suddenly, achingly empty. She kept her eyes on Pippin, though, even as she sat down on a long, finely-crafted bench. It had been in these gardens, since the time of his grandfather's grandfather.

She tilted her head, looking at him. Pippin was rendered breathless.

"Master Took? Shall you sit with me?"

Pippin nodded, slowly. He walked through a dream to site beside her. Diamond grinned and turned, leaned close; her breath was cold pinpricks in the darkness, against his cheek. Pippin tilted his head. Their noses were tip to tip.

"I must say, Pippin, I like it when you're bold."

"I shall keep that in mind, Diamond," he said, licking his lips. And hers were inviting, and she smiled even as he pressed their mouths together. He swallowed that smile, that softness, and he could taste raspberry, bittersweet, melting on her tongue.

Pippin sat back. He exhaled, closed his eyes. He felt the touch of her fingers, then, tracing circles on his cheek. He opened his eyes, then, and her smile was holding a secret.

The air felt heavy, it was hard to breathe.

He couldn't take his eyes away from hers.

"Diamond?"

Another laugh, sharp like a knife. She breathed in, then, closing her eyes as she leaned in close. They were kissing again, and Pippin trembled. Never had he felt something quite like this.

Oh, Merry.

There was something that felt wrong, here, but Pippin could hardly care. That was it, and only it, and Pippin felt the prick of her teeth against his lips. Something bitter, almost sweet, warm in his mouth. He almost thought it was blood, but he could hardly be sure.

And then her mouth traced the line of his jaw, sliding down the cu?ve of his throat. Warmth trailed after, and Pippin couldn't even find the breath to speak. He did all that he could, steadied his hands on her shoulders; and Diamond's hands were secure at his waist.

"I can feel your pulse, right here," she mumbled, then nipped with his teeth. Pippin shuddered, breathed in sharp, and Diamond held him tight.

The stars were burning brighter, now, clear and white in the dark velvet sky. Pippin wanted to laugh, and a small part of him wanted to cry. He wondered if Merry would join, him, still. And that was it, and Diamond bit down hard.

He could hear the sound of feeding, distant, and Diamond was just too strong. Pippin tried, but he just couldn't manage to bring himself into a panic. This felt right, somehow, and the beat of his heart was starting to slow.

And Pippin was pushed back against the bench, and Diamond stretched out along his form; she was tall, yes, but not nearly as tall as he. The jasmine was thick like honey, now, and Pippin was closing his eyes. He remembered a something about Diamond, distant, that and her claws; and Diamond had her teeth in him, now, and he had lost his chance to care.

In the morning, Pippin woke stiff and sore. His head was aching, and he felt as though he had partied long into the night - the problem, there, being that he wasn't quite sure of what had gone on. He sat up slowly, hand to his forehead, hoping to diminish the pounding behind his skull. He thanked that he had no window, for once; he could only imagine what bright light would do for this headache.

There was a knock at the door.

Pippin groaned. "Oh, go away," he said rather softly, though he picked himself up and fumbled for his robe, pulling it on and heading from his sleeping chamber into his rooms small parlour. There was another knock and Pippin winced.

"I'm coming!"

It was Merry.

"Oh, good morning," Pippin murmured, rubbing at his eyes. Merry's lips twitched into a grin.

"Good afternoon, you mean," he said, and ushered himself into the room. "I brought us lunch to share." Pippin eyed the tray that Merry held, and his stomach grumbled. He closed the door and flopped down to sit in a tall chair.

"What did I do last night?"

Merry was grinning. "I was thinking I'd ask you the same thing. So," he set the tray down, made Pippin a cup of tea. "What did you think of Miss Diamond?"

Pippin frowned. "She's not too bad."

Merry quirked an eyebrow. "Not too bad? Pippin, you look rather... well, if you were seeing what I'm seeing, you'd see how an answer of not too bad just doesn't seem to be believable."

Pippin was still frowning. "Oh, get your mind out of the trash, Merry." He accepted the tea that Merry offered him, and sipped it slowly. Oh, now this was better. He sat back, tried to relax. Merry leaned close, then sat back, into a chair of his own.

"Well, seems that the engagement will be announced, at supper tonight." Merry looked to Pippin, and Pippin saw the tell-tale droop of Merry's good mood. He recovered himself in a moment.

"I told you that this wasn't a good idea," Pippin replied, rubbing his neck. He winced, drew his hand away. There was blood on his fingertips. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he looked again, the blood was gone.

"Pippin? Pippin, answer me, won't you?"

Pippin blinked and looked towards Merry. He sat the tea cup down, let his fingers trail over its fine china rim, and then reached out to take a scone from the tray. He ate until he could eat no more, but even then, he was still hungry.

Merry was all bells and smiles again. "Merry, love, do you think that we can do this?"

"Of course we can, Pip. You're doing it all ready."

"Doing what?" Pippin frowned. "Merry, this isn't making sense."

Merry sighed. "Honestly now, Pippin. Maybe you ought to get back to sleep. You seem to be a bit under the weather."

"Under the weather," Pippin murmured in reply, then stood up. He wobbled and laughed, sudd?nly, bright and sharp as he fell back. "Oh dear, I can't seem to find my legs."

Merry was up in an instant. "Pippin?" He knelt at Pippin's chair's side.

"Oh, Merry, I feel... I feel rather hungry."

"Now that isn't surprising," and Merry nearly laughed. He took Pippin's hand, and Pippin shifted his gaze; he could see small, dark bruises on Merry's wrist. He had left them there. Merry was supposed to be his.

"Pippin?"

"Merry," Pippin replied, laughing softly. He was leaning close, and he could breathe in Merry's scent clearly; sunlight and the out doors, the faint scent of pipeweed mixed with ale. He could smell more than that. He could smell Merry, a sharp copper odor that he knew to be blood. Pippin licked his lips.

"Merry, Merry, Merry-my-own..."

Merry's eyes widened, his lips parted. "Pippin," he replied, though his voice was faint. Pippin smiled, Merry tilted his head. Oh, and Pippin could reach out, touch Merry's throat, and he could feel life thrumming wildly under his fingers.

Right here, he thought, tracing one vein. A taste.

"Pippin, you're ice cold!"

Pippin smiled. He closed his eyes, bit down, and Merry jerked, gasping out loud. Pippin was only vaguely aware of Merry's hand at his shoulder, one tangling in his hair; what he did know, what he did feel, was life, hot and liquid, spilling into his mouth, down his throat.

A week after Pippin and Diamond's engagement, it was announced that Merry would be marrying Estella Bolger. The weddings came in the spring; a three day celebration to honour the finest double wedding that the Shire had seen in what felt an Age.

The night after the celebrations ended, Estella was let in on the secret as well.