A/N: I do not own any Lord of the Rings characters. Frodo, Merry, and any other characters you meet are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and no one else. Any flames will be used to burn Boromir or Sean Bean. I also have some random orcs I could burn and marshmallows that I stole from Faramir.
There was an awful storm outside. Rain drummed on the round windows of the hobbit-hole, wind howled noisily, and thunder roared, peppered with a flash of lightning here and there.
Merry dropped where he was in the hallway, curling into a little ball. He knew he was a big lad now, all of seven years old, but all he wanted to do was be with his Frodo, right now. Still shivering, he felt arms reach around him and was lifted into a familiar lap. Warm hands massaged his back, and he felt Frodo rise and head back to his room, Merry still in his arms.
"What's this, little one?" Frodo asked softly.
Merry was too terrified to tell him he wasn't little anymore as he always did, just moaned and clung to Frodo.
"Calm down, Merry-lad. The thunder is harmless, and we'll go to my room where you'll barely hear it," Frodo soothed, smooching blond curls.
Merry nodded his head against Frodo's nightshirt-covered shoulder, where he had buried his head. Frodo ran a pale hand through the little lad's curls, murmuring condolences. He felt Merry relax into his arms. By then, the pair had reached Frodo's room, so Frodo set his young cousin on the bed.
"Can you get under the covers, sweetheart, and lie down? I'll build up the fire so we won't freeze to death," Frodo said.
Merry relaxed more at Frodo's soothing tone and the hand that was still massaging his back, and let go long enough to crawl under the covers and watch Frodo build up the fire. Once there was enough wood to bring a fair quantity of warmth to the room, Frodo climbed under the covers as well and cuddled Merry to him. Merry sighed deeply, his words punctuated by a rumble of thunder from outside.
"What's the matter, Merry-lad?" Frodo inquired.
"You must think I'm an awful baby," Merry replied.
"Not a bit, Merry-lad. I was scared too, when I was your age. And I'd go crawl into bed with your mom, as well, like you do with me," Frodo answered.
Frodo glanced at his young cousin. Merry's head was resting on Frodo's shoulder, with one arm draped across him.
"Will you always be my Frodo?" Merry asked.
"Of course, Merry-lad. Forever," Frodo replied, smooching blond curls. "I will always protect you from anything scary. Do you know why?"
Merry shook his head, so Frodo said, "Because I love you, Merry. You made me happy the first time I saw you."
Merry looked into Frodo's eyes, which were like two big sapphires. Frodo smiled and smooched his cheek softly.
"Will you be able to sleep now, Merry-lad?" Frodo asked.
"I think so," Merry said.
Frodo smiled, glad that he was able to put the little lad at ease with his fear. Together, the two hobbits snuggled under the mass of warm blankets, both plunging into pleasant dreams. Just before Merry was fully asleep, he whispered Frodo's name. Frodo responded by giving Merry's hand a reassuring squeeze, whispering, "Good night, Merry-lad."