Chapter Text
“Merry, are you sure? There are still two bedrooms and another bathroom. You can still move in with us.”
“At the end of the year. I still like the dorms. Come summer, I’ll be here. Promise.”
Frodo shakes his head with a small smile. “You never cease to amaze me, Merry. It will be strange not to share a room with you. You’ll have to tell me all about your new roommate.”
“Don’t worry, Frodo, I will,” Merry laughs, “just as soon as he moves in. I’ll be back on Saturday, and there had better still be a beer here for me!”
Sam and Frodo laugh, and Sam rolls his eyes. “There will be. You’d best get back, Mr. Brandybuck, before the newbie takes your bed.”
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Campus is packed. It always is on moving day. Even so, Merry has to slip into a corner of the lobby for a moment to catch his breath. As an upperclassman, he’d moved in last week. But today, he’s finding himself in crowds of first years, and it’s overwhelming. After he leaves his corner, it takes him five minutes to get to the elevator and another six to actually reach his floor. Which is, thankfully, mostly empty.
He weaves around a couple piles of luggage in the hall, and finds his door cracked open. The new guy must be here, then. Merry presses his hand to the door, pushing it open gently. The room cannot be described as large, but it isn’t exactly small either. There are two beds, high enough from the floor that storage bins can be placed underneath, as well as two desks on either side of the room, two dressers and one wardrobe, and a door to the small bathroom. There is a single large window with a heater underneath that serves as a seat.
The new boy is laying blankets onto his bed, blankets that have obviously been provided by the school. He has curly auburn hair that falls not far above his shoulders, and as Merry steps into the room, he can hear him humming quietly. Merry clears his throat and the skinny boy jumps.
“Are those really the blankets you’re going to sleep with?”
The boy swallows, eyes flicking nervously between Merry and the bed.”Um… yes? Yes. Who are you?”
“I’m Merry. I’m your roommate.”
“Oh.” He looks at the floor, fidgeting for a moment before looking up with determination. “Is that your real name?”
Merry huffs in amusement, kicking the door shut and striding over to his bed. “Yeah. It’s short for Meriadoc. Unfortunate, I know.”
For the first time, the boy seems to relax a little. “Not the worst I’ve heard.”
Merry glances over and raises an eyebrow. “No? What is, then?”
“Peregrin.”
“And who would Peregrin be?”
The boy scuffs his foot on the floor and sighs. “Me. I usually make people call me Gary, but I hate that too. And kids back home used to call me Peregrin the Pipsqueak, which isn’t any better.”
Merry bends over to pull out one of his storage bins from beneath his bed. “Pipqueak, huh? How about Pip, or Pippin?”
The boy grins for the first time, the smile trailing up into his eyes. “Pippin. I like it.”
“Alright, Pippin it is.” Merry straightens up and hands him a quilt. “Here. It’s better than school blankets, I promise.”
Pippin’s eyes widen, and after a moment, so does his smile. “Oh, thank you, Merry!”
“Don’t… uh, don’t mention it. Stick it on the bed and let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“The dining hall. We’re going to eat and then I’m going to show you the best parts of campus.”
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Pippin has trouble sleeping that night. He’s had trouble sleeping for the past two years, but he seems to lie awake in the dark longer than usual. He can hear Merry breathing softly across the room. He bites his lip, wanting desperately to find a way to play music, but he doesn’t want to wake Merry up.
He rolls onto his side, watching the blankets covering Merry move slowly up and down. Eventually his eyes grow heavy, and tucked under Merry’s quilt, Pippin falls into a dreamless sleep.
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By Friday evening, Pippin knows quite a bit about Merry. He’s a Culinary Arts major in his third year, specializing in pastries. His two best friends are named Frodo and Sam; he met Sam in a class they shared and he lived in the same dorm room as Frodo for two years. He works baking danishes and little pies at a coffee shop just off campus. He hates moving day and orientation week, but he loves the atmosphere of it all. His favorite part of campus is the Sculpture Gardens. His grandmother made him a very large number of quilts.
There are a number of useless facts he’s learned from Merry’s near constant rambling. But Pippin has been careful about how he responds, what he allows Merry to know about him. It’s strange, he thinks, not to be the one constantly talking. He doesn’t feel quite himself without being told off for too much talking. Then again, he hasn’t felt quite himself for two years, and it’s been just as long since he’s spent a day spouting endless chatter. All the same, it’s the nonverbal things that Merry picks up on, and Pippin doesn’t realize it until it’s too late.
“How long have you had trouble sleeping?”
Pippin startles at the question, nearly dropping his fork. He chews his bite of steamed asparagus slowly, and swallows, refusing to look up from his plate. “I sleep fine.”
“No you don’t,” Merry says, “You toss and turn for hours, and if you even manage to fall asleep, you’re restless.”
Pippin sets down his fork, folding his hands carefully in his lap before looking up. His voice is forced, his words measured as he speaks, and his face a mask. It’s as if he’s rehearsed it in his head and said it multiple times before. “I’m sorry if I’ve been keeping you awake. I don’t mean to.”
Merry frowns and shakes his head. “I wake up sometimes, it isn’t your fault. Pippin, you’re exhausted. I want to help.”
“You can’t.”
“I can if you’ll let me, I can find a way, I can-”
“No! You can’t.”
Pippin’s voice is more forceful and anxious than he intends it to be, and he immediately regrets it. The startled look on Merry’s face makes him feel guilty. He sighs, picking at his fingernails. Merry’s reply is quiet, as if he’s almost afraid to ask it.
“Why not?”
“Because I… I’ve been like this for years. Music helps, but only a little. I’ve gone days and days without sleeping before. It’s really quite hard to fall asleep. And if I do, I wake easily.”
Merry is quiet for a while, and Pippin begins to wonder if he’s said too much. But then Merry sets down his water glass after taking a drink.
“What kind of music?”
Pippin’s head snaps up in shock. “What?”
“What kind of music helps the most?”
“Well… anything, really. Folk, I suppose, or alternative. The kind of stuff they play in bars and pubs?”
Merry gives him a small smile. “Aren’t you a bit young for bars and pubs?”
Pippin laughs, and it’s the first time Merry’s heard the sound, and he’s proud he caused it. “You could say that.”
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Pippin is tugging on an overlarge t-shirt that night when he turns to see Merry sitting on his bed with his legs crossed. Merry is frowning, sticking out his tongue in concentration as he fiddles with something in his hands. Pippin pulls his shirt down the rest of the way and walks over.
“What are you doing?”
Merry hardly glances up at him. “I’m making a playlist. And trying to remember which songs are which. I haven’t used this thing in a while.”
Pippin crawls up onto the bed beside Merry, tucking his legs beneath him and leaning over to see the screen of the small device. “Why haven’t you used it?”
“Usually I’m with Sam and Frodo. We use Frodo’s laptop or the radio for music, not this old iPod.”
Pippin makes a small noise and nods. “Right. What’s the playlist for?”
“Listening.” Merry’s eyes light up and his smirk holds all the sarcasm of that one word.
“You, my friend, are insufferable,” Pippin replies, shoving Merry’s shoulder.
Merry laughs, shoving him back. “Believe me, I know. I’m hoping it’ll help you sleep actually. It’s kind of all cobbled together with what I could find on it.”
He takes Pippin’s hand and pressed the iPod into his palm. Pippin’s eyes flick between his hand and his roommate’s face. He blinks a few times and draws in a long breath. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. I mean, we can’t have you falling asleep during a lecture when classes start on Monday. And you can listen to it out loud or there are headphones in the top drawer of my desk.”
The younger of the two bites his lip to fight a smile and fails miserably. “Thank you, Merry. Really.”
Merry shakes his head, chuckling.”It’s nothing. And besides, I’m leaving in the morning to spend the weekend with Frodo and Sam. You can tell me Sunday if it helps any.”
“Right. Are you leaving before breakfast?”
“Yeah.” Merry pauses, realizing that perhaps Pippin may get lonely in the empty room. “I can wait around a while, though, if you want?”
Pippin is quick to say no, as though he doesn’t want to be a burden. “No. No, I’m alright. I’ll even try to sleep in. But I’ve got a meeting with one of my professors around noon, anyway. I won’t be in the room to keep you company if you do stay.”
Merry nods, laying back and nudging Pippin with his foot. “It’s settled then. I’ll see you Sunday night, unless you’re awake when I leave in the morning. Now get off my bed and sleep, kid.”
“I’m not that much younger than you, Merry,” Pippin grumbles, but crawls off the bed all the same. He hits the light switch before climbing into his own bed, the glow of Merry’s iPod lighting up his face before he hits play and adjusts the volume. “Thank you.”
“I said it’s nothing. Go to sleep for once in your life.”
There’s a huff of breath and the sound of a smile enters Pippin’s voice. “Goodnight, Merry.”
“Goodnight, Pippin.”