I don't own any of these lovely characters. They come from the fertile imagination of JRR Tolkien. This is fanfic.
ALL FOR ONE
Waiting by the ponies, Merry nodded towards Pippin as Frodo approached. "Is he alright?"
Frodo's smile was faint, but certain. "He will be." He laid a three-fingered hand upon Merry's shoulder. "And you?"
Merry snorted and the ponies heads came up in alarm, before Merry and Frodo moved to calm them, stroking velvet noses. Swallowing back a lump, Merry attempted a wry smile. "I will be."
Neither trusted themselves to look into the other's eyes, continuing to pet and stroke the mounts long after the animals had calmed. It was Frodo who finally broke the strained silence.
"Do you remember, when I lived at the Hall, I used to have dreams that sometimes came true?"
Merry attempted a sidelong glance at him. "Are you trying to tell me that you foresaw all this in a dream? Because if you are, I wish you had warned me." The words were spoken only half jokingly and Frodo rushed to re-assure him.
"Oh goodness, no! It's just that . . . well . . . I've had one or two strange dreams lately and they have the same feel about them."
Merry's grey-green eyes finally met Frodo's. "I'd be very surprised if you didn't. I've had a few myself."
Blue eyes widened and then dipped to stare at the ground. Merry's hand tucked itself beneath Frodo's chin, drawing the sharp-planed face to look at him once more. "But at least they are just that, Frodo . . . dreams. I would rather a few of us had bad dreams than have the whole of Middle earth living a nightmare."
His cousin found refuge in Merry's calm eyes again. "You were always there for me, Merry. Sometimes I wonder which of us is the elder."
"Oh, you were always the eldest. You just weren't always the most practical." That comment had the desired effect and coaxed a soft laugh from Frodo. When the laughter faded the pale face grew serious once more and he glanced about to establish the whereabouts of Sam. He spotted him, talking to Pippin on the dockside.
"Sam, however, is a very practical fellow. He has done so much towards restoring our home and without him . . . without Sam I could not have . . ." Frodo's voice trailed off, lost in dark memory, and Merry let go the ponies to take both of his cousin's shoulders in his hands.
"Frodo . . . this conversation is all over the place. Out with it. What are you trying to say?"
The words broke down a dam within Frodo and the words tumbled out, one upon the other, in a rush. "I think Sam will be Mayor one day. He has it in him . . . the good sense and the love. And if he does become Mayor he will need help. I want you to promise me that you'll be there for him, just as you always were for me."
For a few moments Merry stood, blinking and trying to absorb this startling news. "I've never considered that Sam would be the sort to put himself forward for such a position. But, then again, I've discovered that there are many layers to our Sam." He frowned. "But you didn't need to ask me. I'd stand by Sam, whatever he did."
Frodo pressed him, nonetheless. "You were raised to be the Master of Brandy Hall one day. Your parents saw to it that you had the best of education and you grew up watching how an estate should be managed. Sam is a capital fellow and his gaffer taught him a thing or two. But he's going to feel very unsure at first and he won't want to bother you."
"You're serious, aren't you, Frodo?" Merry glanced behind him, watching Sam and Pippin. Now that he looked more carefully he could see a difference in Sam. The square shouldered figure, staring calmly out to sea, was not the shy and nervous gardener who used to insist that he only came along on their walking trips because, "Mr Frodo don't know how to look after himself proper." Perhaps Frodo's dreams were not too far off the mark.
For his part, Frodo had been waiting patiently, while Merry digested this new idea. Now he saw one of the elves call something to Sam and the hobbit turning towards his master. Frodo touched Merry's arm, drawing him out of reverie. "Merry . . . do I have your promise?"
Merry laid a hand over his heart in mock seriousness, although there was no such tone in his voice.
"Of course you have my promise. I promise that I will be there for Sam, whether he becomes Mayor or not. And I shall be there for Pippin," he continued, his eyes sparkling. "And I shall make sure that Pippin is there for him too . . . and that Sam is there for Pippin . . . and then . . . of course . . . I shall expect Sam to be there for . . ."
"Merry!" Frodo cut him off with a grin and a cuff on the arm, just as Sam bustled up.
"Mr Frodo. The sailors say as how they're ready to leave, sir . . . something about the tide. They say it means they can't wait no longer."
"You're just in the nick of time, as usual, Sam. Merry was about to talk my ear off." Frodo turned, wrapping his cousin in a fierce hug. "Thank you, Merry."
Merry returned his embrace with equal ferocity, although his voice was no more than a whisper in Frodo's ear. "We've been there for each other from the beginning and we'll make sure it stays that way. I'll watch out for Sam, if you promise to look out for yourself."
With one last squeeze, Frodo turned away, catching Sam's arm in his and leading him back to the boat.
END
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