It was nearly noon when they arrived at the swimming-hole, after walking all morning. The hole was an upwelling of an underground stream, probably coming off of the Brandywine. Generations of Brandybucks had come out here to swim, usually as part of a camping trip, as it was quite a tramp from Buckland. Frodo himself had learned from several older cousins, and had taught Merry in turn, and now the two of them were going to be teaching Pippin to swim in the next week before they headed off to Bag End.

Pippin enthusiastically threw his pack down, collapsing next to it dramatically. Merry sat down as well, with a grateful sigh, and leaned back against a convenient log, and even Frodo, used to tramping about all over hill and dale, seemed happy to let his pack drop. He glanced critically at Merry, but saw only the normal weariness of one unused to such a long walk.

Merry had nearly died of the Winter Sickness just a few months before, and was still recovering from the last vestiges of it. He tired only slightly more easily than usual now, and was properly cranky about it, signs Frodo took well. Nonetheless, Saradoc had pulled both him and Pippin aside before they had left (just after Merry’s twenty-first birthday), and asked them to keep a careful eye on Merry, and not let him get exhausted. As they had already agreed among themselves to do so, it was an easy directive to follow.

But Merry was already sitting up straight again, as was Pippin, and both were looking hungry, as only teens and tweens can after a long hike.

“I’ll go and see what I can hunt down for lunch, lads. Pippin, will you start preparing everything? Boil water for a stew--I’ll try to get us some rabbits.”

Pippin grinned happily at the mention of rabbit stew, and went off to dig through their packs for various supplies. Merry stood and made to follow Frodo, but his older cousin pushed him back down, gently.

“Frodo! I can hunt as well, you know.” He glared up, a little indignantly.

“Oh, I know, Merry. You’re also tired, and I can get enough for all of us easily, so just sit here and rest.” Frodo spoke gently, but it was obviously a command, so Merry stayed.

“I’ll help Pippin cook, then.” Merry stayed seated, but looked mulish about it just the same. He was not used to being the one taken care of, and Merry was finding he greatly preferred being on the other end of the deal.

“No, you won’t,” Pippin called over his shoulder as Frodo went off with a small bow and quiverful of arrows. “I’m the best cook of all of us, although that’s not difficult, and Frodo’s right anyway.”

Merry huffed a sigh, and sat back. He was tired, he had to admit.

“And don’t think you can be lazy forever, Brandybuck! If I’m going to make this meal, you’re going to be doing cleanup,” Pippin mock-grumped, turning to grin at Merry as the fire he’d made rose, flames dancing over twigs and small branches.

Merry smiled in return, laying back more comfortably on the soft grass. The sun was so nice and warm, and maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment…

He was awakened by a poking at his shoulder, and opened his eyes to see Pippin grinning down at him.

“Wake up, Mer! Unless, of course, you want to skip lunch.” Merry smiled in return, stretching as he sat up. He happily accepted the bowl of stew Pippin handed him, and the three hobbits settled down to some serious eating.

When all the corners had been filled up, and even some stew left over, Merry stacked all their dishware and headed off a little ways, where the stream came to the surface again, although downstream from the swimming hole. As hobbits are very thorough in clearing their plates, he was able to return to the campsite soon enough.

Merry returned to hear Frodo giving a familiar speech, and he settled down nearby to listen in.

“…and the water gets quite deep only a few feet out. I know you can float already--thank you, Merry, for cleaning up--but you’re not to go out that far until Merry and I say you may, and never without one of us in the water with you. Although,” and Frodo’s face broke out in a smile, “I don’t doubt you’ll be swimming just fine in a few days, Pip. Now, let’s into the water!”

Pippin whooped, and quickly stripped down. He was hopping about impatiently at the edge of the water, waiting for the somewhat slower Frodo and Merry. They had briefly whispered to each other about being particularly slow, just for Pippin, but decided against it, to avoid any revenge on the Took’s part.

“Oi, what were you two laughing about?” Pippin demanded indignantly, when the two older hobbits finally joined him at the water’s edge.

“Nothing, Pip, don’t you worry about it,” Merry soothed. “Now, let’s get in and finally start teaching you, since you’ve been clamoring for it for months!” He grinned as he took Pippin’s hand, leading him into the water. The muddy bottom quickly slanted down to cover Pippin almost to his chest, and he started to look a little worried, holding Merry’s hand more tightly.

Sensing his lad’s worries, Merry squeezed back, and reached his free hand over to stroke Pippin’s hair soothingly.

“Let’s see what you remember, shall we?” Merry spoke gently, trying to pull Pippin’s attention away from the fact that he was right then in the deepest water he’d ever been in. “Float for me a bit, on your back and then flipping over to your front.”

Pippin lay on the water, his arms stretched out at his side. Peering up, Pippin smiled at the patterns the sunlight made on the trees overhead, before turning over to float facedown, until he ran out of air.

He came up out of the cool water (looking much more relaxed) to praise from Merry, and a satisfied nod from Frodo.

Over the next few hours, they taught Pippin how to kick (“Keep your legs straight!” Frodo yelled over the splashing, and almost got a furry foot in the face when Pippin obeyed.), and move his arms to pull himself forward strongly through the water. Although he couldn’t really swim for more than a few strokes, and had trouble getting his breathing right, Pippin was getting along quite well when they broke for the day at tea; sharing muffins that Merry’s mum had kindly slipped into his pack, and the last of the stew.

The three of them spent the late afternoon chasing each other in the shallows, and trying to duck each other. Merry took great joy in ducking Pippin every chance he got, easily s kimming through the water to catch up with the splashing teen. Frodo had retired to sunbathe and perhaps take a nap on the shore, and Merry kept catching him giving Merry odd, sideways glances. Odd, but quite familiar--Merry had caught nearly everyone he knew looking at him like that, in the past few months. Familiar, but getting slightly annoying.

He left Pippin splashing around, trying to find a frog, and joined Frodo, lying down next to him on his stomach.

“You needn’t look like that Frodo. I’m not going anywhere.” Frodo startled a little at Merry’s cutting straight to the point, but his eyes were calm when he turned to face his cousin.

“Merry. Did I ever tell you what I promised, the very first time I ever held you?”

Merry shook his head mutely, although knowing Frodo, he could guess.

“I swore,” Frodo paused and took a deep breath, “I swore I would never let anything happen to you, never let you be taken from me, as my parents were. It is an oath no one can keep, but when I saw you, fevered and gasping for breath…” Tears filled Frodo’s eyes, and Merry sat up quickly, hugging his cousin fiercely.

“Oh, Frodo, hush. All is well, and I’m here. Ah, don’t be scared, cousin.”

Frodo hugged Merry hard, and broke the embrace, still keeping his hands on Merry’s shoulders. “Oh, Merry, I’m sorry,” he apologized with a smile, “I didn’t mean to go all weepy on you. You must have a good bit of practice by now, assuring concerned relations that you’re truly well.”

Merry nodded, matching Frodo’s slight smile. “Poor Pippin,” he murmured, glancing out to the young one who was still paddling about, “he’s been so good to me, but I needed reminding he is still so young. I promised him I wouldn’t leave him, and I really can’t, Frodo. So you see,” and he turned back to Frodo, grinning, “I really am here to stay.”

“I’ll attempt to remember why that’s such a good thing, the next time you have too much to drink at the Green Dragon,” Frodo commented dryly, but squeezed Merry’s shoulders as he let go.

“Oi!” Pippin called, “I found a frog! Frodo! Merry! Lookit!” And he ran up the bank, plunking down in front of Merry, his hands tightly holding a slightly miserable-looking frog. While Frodo and Merry were complimenting Pippin on his skill at frog-catching, it wriggled free and leapt at Merry, making him yelp with surprise and scootch backwards.

When Frodo and Pippin finally stopped laughing, and Merry pouted in a mock-huff, all three had been dried by the sun, so they dressed again and set about preparing dinner.

* * *

It was much later that night, by the moon, when Merry awoke to the sound of crying. He, Pippin, and Frodo had laid their sleeping rolls out in a line, so it wasn’t difficult for him to roll over and gather Pippin into his arms. The little Took was shaking so hard with sobs, Merry started to worry that he’d cry himself sick, but after some soothing words, and Pippin wrapping his arms around Merry tightly, Merry’s worries faded.

As Pippin’s tears turned to ragged hiccups and gasping, Frodo rolled over as well, awakened.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, sleepily.

Merry, Pippin still cuddled in his arms, replied, “Yes Frodo, I think Pip just had a bit of a nightmare; don’t worry over it.”

“Ah,” said Frodo, squirming over to wrap his arms around Pippin from the other side, “Then everything is not all right. Shhh, Pippin-my-Pip, everything is fine. Your Merry and I are here, and we’ll take care of you. All is well.”

When Pippin had been quiet for a few minutes, Merry gently asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Pippin nodded a little, barely visible by moonlight and the embers of their campfire. “Merry, it was so awful. I saw you get up and start to walk out to the swimming hole, and I meant to call after you, but I couldn’t. And you kept walking, until the water was over your head, but you didn’t start swimming or anything, you just disappeared! So I ran in after you, but the water was over my head so quick, and I couldn’t breathe, and I felt it in my chest, and I was choking and-and d-drowning, and--“ Pippin started to cry again, and Merry renewed his hug, holding Pippin as close as he could, while Frodo rubbed his back and dropped kisses in his hair, murmuring soothing words.

When he had quieted again, and Merry loosened his grip, Pippin turned to face Frodo.

“Do you ever dream about your parents?” he asked, softly “About how they died?” Frodo looked immesurably sad for a moment, and reached out to stroke Pippin’s cheek.

“Yes, sweetheart, I do. Not as much as when I was younger, but I still do.”

“So I’ll always have these dreams?” Pippin’s voice scaled up a little, as though he were about to begin crying again, but his eyes stayed dry. Merry was confused, at first, but Frodo smiled sadly.

“Oh, I doubt it, Pip. You see, we still have our Merry, and if you ever forget, he can remind you how he loves you, and what fun you’ve had together. You had an awful fright, Pip, but it will pass into memory, quite soon I think.”

Merry kissed Pippin on the cheek, tenderly, when he realized the root of the dream. “Frodo’s right, little one. Now, can you get to sleep again?”

Pippin nodded, yawning enormously. Frodo gave them each a hug, and rolled over and fell back asleep immediately. Merry went to arrange Pippin on his roll, but his cousin stopped him.

“Merry, can I please sleep with you, just for tonight?” Merry smiled and helped Pippin climb in with him.

“Of course, sweetheart, and any other night you need to. Would you like me to sing for you?”

“No,” Pippin sighed, mostly asleep, “you need to get to sleep as well, Merry-mine. ‘Night.” And his breathing turned heavy and even, and Merry smiled a little at the peaceful look that softened the Took’s sharp face.

“Good night,” he murmured, as he too fell asleep, arms still wrapped around his dear lad.

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