Title: Broken Glass
Author: Ink
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Not mine, and so on…
A/N: Warning, this story contains the spanking of minors, if this bothers you please stop reading now. Thank you!
Merry looked at Frodo, who was looking at the remnants of what was once a beautiful glass statue, with something akin to horrified fascination. The shards glinted brightly in the dim light cast by the fireplace. Frodo looked at his cousin, dismayed; this had been one of Bilbo's favorite trinkets. It had been in the Baggins family for generations, no one but Bilbo was allowed to touch it, even to dust it. Merry did not seem to be grasping the gravity of their current situation.
"What do we do?" Merry asked, dropping the stick he'd been using to sword fight with Frodo.
"I don't know," whispered Frodo, looking to the door as though expecting his uncle to walk in on cue.
"Should we clean it up?" Picking his way carefully around the sharp spray of debris, Merry headed for the hall closet and a broom, without waiting for his cousin's consent. Frodo continued studying the floor, as though the answer to all his problems were ingrained in the wood.
"What is Bilbo going to say?" He moaned, while Merry swept the shards into a neat little pile.
"Whatever it is, I imagine it will be long and loud," this attempt to cheer failed miserably as Frodo glared menacingly at Merry, who ducked his head and scurried off to find a bag for the rubbish.
Frodo took over the sweeping, his mind racing furiously, trying desperately to come up with an explanation for his uncle. Nothing he thought of was any good, and anyway, there would be no talking their way out of this one. No matter how charming Merry could be, or how innocent he himself could appear when properly motivated, this was just too big.
Desperately grasping at straws as he helped Frodo get the glass cleaned up, Merry was suddenly struck with an idea. "We could go to Brandy Hall," he suggested tentatively. Frodo froze, and looked up; his eyes, which just moments before had been those of a condemned man, were suddenly alight with hope. It lasted all of thirty seconds before reality re-firmed its grip.
"They'll want to know why you cut your visit short," he said, watching as realization set in, "besides, Bilbo would know where to look, and making him wander all over the Shire looking for us will only make it worse when he finds us." Merry nodded forlornly.
"Maybe… we don't have to tell him how we broke it?" It was half suggestion, half question as Merry looked to his older cousin for guidance. Frodo shook his head.
"It wouldn't do to add lying to our list of offences this time. Don't worry Merry, it was my fault, we don't have to tell him you were involved."
"It's just as much my fault as it is yours," Merry said hotly, "I won't let you take all the blame, and anyway, my Mum always says that lying by omission is still lying, we're in this together." Frodo smiled at his little cousin, so mature for his age that people often forgot that he was as young as he was.
"Your right," he said, hugging Merry, and then picking up the bag to bring it out. "I guess all we can do is wait for him to get home," even as he said it, he knew that this would be one of the longest afternoons of their lives.
Time is a funny thing, there is never enough when you need it, but when you want something to be over and done with, there seems to be a cosmic surplus of extra minutes which make hours stretch out into eternities.
Frodo and Merry had found themselves incapable of anything save fretting for three hours now, and it was two very tense boys that jumped the moment they heard footsteps coming up the path.
Bilbo knew immediately that something was very wrong in Bag End. It was hard enough to get a Brandybuck to stop talking long enough to get a word in edge wise, so seeing young Meriadoc standing there absolutely silent, was just eerie. Bilbo continued into the room, and set down his pipe and walking stick, before turning to face the boys again, a soft frown marring his usually gentle features. Neither seemed to be hurt, and that was a relief, but they appeared to be in no great hurry to confess what they had done either.
"Good evening Uncle Bilbo how was your walk?" Frodo stumbled half-heartedly through his too-formal greeting.
"Fine, and how did you two fare this afternoon?" Bilbo knew the boy well enough by now to know that he would eventually confess on his own, not being able to stand the guilt of even minor misdeeds for very long, but direct questions would speed up the process every time, and from the shame-faced looks of both boys, this was something he needed to know now.
Merry remained tight-lipped and still as a statue, Bilbo imagined that if the floor had chosen that moment to open up and swallow the child, he would take it as an improvement to the present circumstances. He looked to Frodo, tears already welling in his downcast eyes. Bilbo decided he would probably need to be sitting for this one.
"Out with it lads," he said, easing himself into the chair closest to the fire.
"We're so sorry Uncle Bilbo," Frodo whispered, fat tears escaping down his cheeks. Merry nodded along beside him, shivering a little at the thought of what was to come next.
"That much is plain to see dear boy, the question is, what are you sorry for?" At the endearment, Frodo began to sob silently, he felt miserably guilty, not only for breaking the statue, but for breaking his uncles trust, for not being a good example for his little cousin, and for being unable now to be brave when faced with the consequences.
Bilbo was able to see a myriad of emotions chase each other over his nephews face, each harder to watch than the last. Finally, the boy raised a hand, and pointed shakily at the empty place on the mantle. Bilbo's eyes widened in realization of what was missing and for a moment he could say nothing at all. It took a few deep breaths to calm him enough to continue the conversation.
"How did this happen?" his tone was slightly strained, but resigned.
"It was my fault," Merry said suddenly, causing Frodo to cut him a sharp look. "We were playing and I knocked it over,"
"It's not his fault," Frodo protested, his voice quavering, "It was my idea!"
"But I was pestering him to do something with me…" Merry cut over him.
"I know better than to sword fight in the sitting room…"
"I never meant to break anything…"
"It really was an accident, but…"
"It was all my fault." Both boys finished together, and then looked at each other in frustration.
"I believe," Bilbo said sternly, "that there is plenty of blame to go around." Merry gulped and reached for Frodo's hand, Frodo found the gesture oddly comforting himself, and squeezed back. "Frodo, go stand in the corner, Meriadoc, come here."
Frodo patted Merry's shoulder as he turned and headed for the corner with no protest. Merry meanwhile, could not seem to come up with the strength to move. His feet remained rooted to the same spot they had occupied since Bilbo had taken the seat he now resided in. Seeing this, Bilbo took pity on the lad, and stood up slowly, took his arm, and led him back to the chair. Once there, he wasted no time in preparing the frightened hobbit, and beginning his punishment.
"What is this spanking for?" He asked as the bottom beneath his hand turned from pink to a dusky rose color.
"I was p-laying inside w-when I knew I shouldn't ha-ve," He sobbed, his legs kicking out at every slap now.
"What else?" Bilbo asked, ready to bring the punishment to an end.
"I bro-ke something that was-n't m-mine." He stammered gulping down more tears. With a few final swats, Bilbo stopped and began to rub slow circles on the boys back. After long moments, Merry was calm enough to get up and redressed. "Do you forgive m-me?" He asked, a small hitch still in his voice, as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.
In response, Bilbo opened his arms wide and was not disappointed as they were promptly filled with repentant hobbit. All too soon for Frodo, Merry was being shooed into the corner and Bilbo was resuming his seat in the chair.
"Come Frodo, let us get this over with," Frodo moved slowly, aware he was prolonging the inevitable, but unable to convince his feet to move any faster. Upon reaching the chair, he removed his braces, and lowered his trousers, lying over Bilbo's lap, and squeezing his eyes shut.
The first swat is always the worst and Frodo took a sharp breath as the sting registered. Bilbo understood the boys need for this, not only as a punishment, but as a way to purge the guilt eating away at his usually well behaved charge. He put a little more strength behind each blow now, and quickened his pace; wanting to end this, he hated hurting anyone, even if they did deserve it. Having been crying for a while now, Frodo was relieved to be able to finally let go. He sobbed, muttering incoherent apologies with every exhale as he choked on his own tears.
"Why are you here Frodo?" The question was gentle, and held not a hint of the heat that had laced his earlier words.
"I d-did something I kn-ew was w-wro-ng, I was a b-b-bad example for Me-rry, a-nd I broke some-thing that was im-portant to y-you." He managed to get out all at once, it was then that his strength gave out and he simply lay limp over Bilbo's lap. With one last swat, the spanking was ended and Bilbo helped Frodo turn around and held him close, stroking his hair back from his damp face. He murmured soft words into one pointed ear, until the lad was calm enough to pay attention.
"Merry, come here please," He called to the small figure furtively rubbing his scorched behind in the corner. Merry hurried to obey as Frodo regained his feet and soon both boys were facing Bilbo once more. "While I am disappointed that you would treat my home with such disrespect," He began, causing two pairs of eyes to lower immediately, "I want to thank you both." They looked up in astonishment.
"For what?" Merry asked incredulously.
"For being honest with me, and not trying to hide what you'd done," was the response. "I am very proud of you boys for admitting you were wrong and facing the consequences." Frodo felt a few tears trail down his cheek once more. For the second time that evening, Bilbo found himself with arms full of red eyed hobbits, two this time rather than just one.
"What about the statue?" Frodo asked quietly as they sat sipping tea a short time later.
"It was rather an ugly thing, was it not?" Bilbo said, a mischievous twinkle in his smiling eyes. "Passed down through the family you know, wouldn't have done to get rid of it. I can't imagine what the Sackville-Bagginses will say the next time they stop in." He continued, laughing at the twin expressions of disbelief on the faces of his companions.
"You never liked it?" Frodo asked when his voice returned to him.
"I did not," Bilbo answered, "in fact, I saw a glass dragon in the market a few days ago, perhaps it is time for a replacement." with that, he blew a smoke ring which floated over the heads of the bemused boys, and hovered over the mantle for a moment before slowly drifting into nothingness.
The End