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Merry came as soon as he received word. There was nothing that could’ve kept him away. He crept into the bedroom silently, careful not to cause a disturbance. The sun had recently set and the only light in the room came from the fireplace. Merry’s chest tightened and he felt overcome with emotion as he took in the scene in front of him. Pippin sat in the wooden rocking chair that Merry had carved for him, holding his newborn son. Both father and son were sleeping soundly. The light from the fireplace cast a soft golden glow on them and Merry could’ve sworn he was looking at angels.
He moved closer and sat down in a chair opposite them. His Pip was a father. The words kept running through his mind, but somehow, despite months of knowing it would happen and days of it actually being, he still couldn’t quite believe it. It seemed like just yesterday that Pippin himself was a wee babe and Merry was holding him like that. Merry could still vividly remember the day he met Pippin. He had been only eight years old, but there was no way he could forget the way it felt when Pippin opened his eyes and looked at Merry for the very first time. A special bond had formed that day and it would never be broken. Merry wondered if Pippin’s son would be close like that with Sam’s children or the children that Merry himself might have one day. He lamented the fact that Frodo would never see Pippin‘s son or any future children. He missed Frodo very much, especially on occasions like this.
Pippin stirred and opened his eyes. “Merry,” he murmured with a sleepy smile.
“Hullo, Pip. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Have you been here long?”
“Only a few minutes.”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep. Diamond would have my head if she found out. I told her I would look after the baby while she rested.”
“Well, it looks like you’re doing a fine job. He looks very content. What’s his name?”
“Faramir,” Pippin said with a smile.
“Faramir Took,” Merry said. “I like it.”
“I would have named him after you, but Sam beat me to it,” the younger Hobbit said sheepishly.
Merry chuckled. “That’s quite alright. I think you chose the right name. Not many Hobbits can say they’re named after a Man, let alone a Steward of Gondor. I’m sure Faramir would be honored to know you have named your son after him.”
The baby stirred and stretched then opened his eyes. Pippin looked down at him in awe. “Isn’t he beautiful, Merry?” he asked, almost breathlessly.
“Aye, Pip.” Merry moved from the chair to kneel down beside the rocking chair. He looked from son to father, feeling the tightening in his chest return. “Just like his father.”
Pippin looked at Merry, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I never thought it was possible to love anyone else as much as I love you, but now I know it is.”
Merry dropped a gentle kiss on little Faramir’s head. “I’m so happy for you, Pip.” He pressed his lips against Pippin’s forehead.
“I know you are, Merry,” Pippin said before softly kissing Merry’s lips.