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THE MOTHERFUCKING TEST DRIVE MEME RIDES AGAIN.

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[ just so happens frodo baggins happens to be interested in the kitchen. not the toaster, mind you, that thing is fairly dangerous at a first go, but he can at least heat water for tea.

so to the lift he goes; before stopping a few steps at the sight of someone right around his height.

there's a blink.

it isn't bilbo's shade of curly brown hair, (he still can't quite believe his uncle of all things is here, but then he sees it. the curly feet and he can't quite stop himself from leaning over his shoulder, politely pressing the proper button.

with the way he's touching all the buttons and fiddling around -- it reminds him of..

merry.

and frodo stills. ]

Merry?

[ it's a voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking more would make it as he thinks it is -- a waking dream. that his cousin, whom he parted from, dearly missed would be here.]

[ it isn't that he's necessarily as single minded as he looks. not that merry isn't hungry, because he is, and there's certainly some sense in headed to the kitchen of all places- but it's also a fairly innocent place to go. and if there're so many of them, then if he has to hide, he'd be able to do that alright. there is something dark to these walls- something than none of the forests and cities and roads have had before.

and he tries to steel himself for it, he really does. because with every day that passes merry finds himself more and more aware of how the whole world is changin'. of the danger around them all the time. the people he loves, his friends-

he has to believe that he'll see them all again. even without any proof. because if he doesn't have that, then how can he keep going at all?

the voice that says his name though- it's like a ghost. someone he hasn't heard in so long, someone he hasn't seen, had word of- that the whole of his body seizes right up. merry's feet halt mid-step, and that tightening in his chest swells up so hard that it feels like one of gandalf's firecrackers has gotten lit inside him- like he's waitin' for the explosion. even after he turns around, he can't believe his eyes. ]

-Frodo?

[ he's as much a ghost to frodo as he seems to be to his cousin. people say there are stories of him, of triumplyhing over the ring at last and being free of the burden -- but they're on that, words. he still is so far from home and where he ought to be. he's so far from who he used to be.

perhaps he is a ghost, far more worn and tired than he looked last they spoke, a hurried parting in amon hen. how he wished he could have said words of farewell, anything -- but frodo could not take merry or pippin. he could not take anyone and despite those stories told to him..he still wonders if he would ever see them again. if he would ever live to see them and the shire, that green country.

but he's here, in front of him, merry, as he remembers him. as much a cousin as he could be a brother, and frodo blinks once, twice, swallowing hard as a faint smile spreads across his face, full of disbelief. ]

It's you, isn't it? You're here. Before my eyes.

[ there's a lump in his throat he didn't remember having before, eyes vaguely stinging. aragorn was right. his cousins were alive after all.

he is real. this is no madness from his mind or the ring, it's merry brandybuck, his stubborn, witty cousin. it feels as if his heart might burst. ]

Edited 2013-03-25 22:48 (UTC)

[ he couldn't name what it was, if he were to be asked. if it was something about the light in his cousin's eyes, or the smile that looks- that looks fair bit like the one he's always had except, for that smallest part in the corner. the one that looks sadder than he can bear. it's frodo.

frodo who left them behind to save them.
frodo who they'd all follow to mordor itself

merry doesn't get another word out. because his arms find their way around his cousin's shoulders and pull him against his chest. he knew, they all knew that frodo and sam were still alive. that they wouldn't stop no matter what, but- but to see him here, with his own two eyes. to feel him breathin'-

merry's eyes squeeze shut, burning, and dirty fingers lodge in the fabric of his clothes as if he might never again let go. ]

[ it's the same older cousin who'd often laughed at their antics, remembering the days when he'd stolen mushrooms just as they had. the same one, and yet -- there is a sadness there, a brokenness or perhaps something on the verge of breaking but still holding. something unnamed but there, but in that moment none of it matters half as much as that curly head of golden hair, those bright eyes that had followed him into grave dangers with seven others.

what had he ever done to deserve such loyal cousins, loyal hobbits and friends? perhaps it was because they were this way that he had set out in the first place.

the sudden pull into his chest startles the breath from his lungs. his breathing hitches, a lump so thick in his throat that words fail him. frodo's hands circle merry's back, clench into his clothing and feels the warmth of family, of the shire back on his skin like sunlight. if it's a dream he doesn't want to wake.

a tear slips from blinking eyes, one hand curling into his cousin's hair, burying his face into his shoulder. ]

[ it doesn't fix everything. not all the things that've gone wrong and the people they've lost. it doesn't go back in time and make it all not true, or undue the things they've had to see, things they've had to do.

but this, this is something too. this matters, the way they matter.
because it is- it is so small a thing. but so're they. and they'll turn out all right, in the end.

merry keeps him close for a long moment, until after the sigh has gone out of him. until the horrible tightening of his throat loosens enough that he can suck in a trembling, fragile breath. it's only here, with his cousin in his arms, when he's finally pulling back that he finds a smile. watery, but no less warm, merry's hands linger on the fabric at frodo's forearms- as if the moment he lets him go completely, he'll vanish into thin air. he thinks of the last time he saw him, of everything they've been through, that he's been through- and everything that's still waiting for them, and the laugh fractures as it tumbles out of him. a fledgling bird. ]

You're shorter than I remember.

[ it doesn't really change anything in the end, but in frodo's eyes it's enough to put a little life back in his body, in his heart. enough to pull the weight back just a little so that he can breathe; if only for a moment or two. to him it's worth it. merry here..in this place -- it's hardly safe. he shouldn't be glad he's here and yet he's alive, well, and in a way that's more than enough. it was right to leave them behind. it wasn't right, or fair that sam insisted to go but how could he have continued without him?

he was alone and yet he was not alone.

the burden was his to bear and yet -- just a glimpse of a dearly loved friend, a family member..he felt a little more like frodo baggins and less like the ringbearer.

you're shorter than i remember.

another tear slips past worn blue eyes; a hoarse laugh escaping frodo's lips as he squeezes his shoulders, not relinquishing their closeness. merry was warm in ways that he wasn't. he could see things changed in his eyes, dangers faced -- he was safe but what had those innocent eyes seen? his cousins should have ever stayed at the shire, safe and untainted by these terrible things.

yet without them..it didn't fix everything. it didn't change everything, but still in his heart he was glad. ]

Or perhaps you've gotten taller! A sad day when the younger, troublesome cousin grows taller.

[ a pause ]

Merry -- is Pippin with you? You've kept together?

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