Chapter 1
It's a normal rowdy day in the Green Dragon. Old hobbits drinking, young lasses hiding behind their mothers as attractive hobbits are watching them closely, a few hooded Big People and several dwarves, hobbits punching each other out of the long queue so they would have to give up their spot - basically as normal as you can get in the Shire.
Merry is sitting at the bar on Pippin's other side, who is flirting with a girl now that he's of age, sipping some mead absent-mindedly though he has decided he isn't in the mood to get drunk today. Suddenly, they hear another hobbit's voice, and it has so much panic, Merry turned around. His eyes widened.
"Frodo, who did this to you?!" Fatty Bolger shouted. He was holding Frodo's - surprisingly - smaller hands in his, and after some squinting - considering they were both halfway across the room - he was apalled and horrified to see some nasty bruises on the elder hobbit's arms.
"No one, Fatty," Frodo replied calmly, although Merry saw a fearful tint in his blue eyes as he glanced around the room before he noticed the Brandybuck heir's jade eyes on him and any signs of fear had vanished.
"Look at those injuries," Merry said quietly, turning Frodo's wrists over, shocked to see just how much the pale skin was smothered with the mark of previous cuts and fresh bruises that couldn't have been more than a few hours ago. "How can somebody get so wounded and cover it up?! Who did this to you, Frodo? And don't you dare lie to me." He added quickly, sending him a sharp look.
"I... can't tell you," Frodo said sort of panicky as he frantically looked around the bar again before reverting his attention to his cousins. "At least not now, anyways. Honestly, I'm fine, you two; people are staring."
"I can fix that," Merry said shortly. He walked back to his place at the bar, where Pippin was still chatting with the pretty brunette and began pulling him away and back to the duo, a fierce determination in his eyes and ignoring Pippin's heated protests while Frodo paled, knowing he wouldn't be able to change Merry's mind.
"Where are we going?" Frodo asked as he, too, was being dragged away. "Your place. You said we're attracting too much attention so that's where we're going." he was slightly annoyed, slightly unsurprised to see Frodo start making incohorent excuses, and turning whiter, if that was possible. Even worse, he wouldn't stop even as he, Pippin and Merry were halfway to Bag End.
"Cousin," Merry began slowly, almost too slowly. "if you do not put a sock in it this second, I'm afraid I will have to do it for you."
Frodo's cheeks went a bit pink and he glared back at Merry, but chose to not say anything and keep his gaze on the cobblestone road beneath his feet for the rest of the journey.