STORM WARNING

Chapter 3

Ok, so it's been awhile. :(

I hope you enjoy this!

~Pidge

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am broke. Sorry.


Pippin paced worriedly.

Merry, obviously, had not come back in time for dinner. Or dessert. Or even supper, for that matter.

At first Pippin wrote his favorite cousin's absence off as misused time management. Then he became a bit put off that Merry was spending far too much time with Estella, when Pippin himself was only at Brandyhall for a few weeks. Eventually, after the old timers' prediction had proven true and the cold sheets of rain began to pour, he contented himself with the excuse that Merry had found shelter and was waiting out the storm.

But that didn't stop his worried pacing.

Suddenly the door to Merry's room creaked open. Pippin had always stayed in Merry's room with him whenever he came to visit his Buckland cousins, and this was no exception. A hope rose in Pippin that Merry was back, and his bright green eyes opened wider. But the door swung open, revealing none other than the Master of Buckland. Merry's dad.

Hopes dashed, Pippin at least had the good grace to smile at his uncle's arrival.

"Uncle Doc. Didn't expect to see you here."

Saradoc peered into the room, and obvious disappointment registered on his face when he saw that his son was not there.

"Pip, did you see Merry recently? I thought he'd be back by now."

"No," Pippin shrugged, thrusting a deep feeling of dread back down into his gut. "Last I saw him he was on the road, going over to Estella's. Said he had a bit of a date. I reminded him to be back by dinner, though, like you said. I suppose he just got held up – by the storm and all."

Saradoc nodded slowly, though he remained unconvinced. When his son had not appeared at dinner, he was honestly a bit annoyed. Not that Merry ever really listened, but it had been his own mother's birthday, and Esmeralda Took Brandybuck deserved to have her son there. When supper came, and Merry was still not there, Saradoc decided that he could do nothing about it. So he conjured up excuses to himself; it was the weather, the storm, they got held up, lost track of the time. They'd be back, and then Merry would be told off with the harshest words Saradoc could conjure up. What kind of a son would miss his own mother's 50th? Why should the future Master of Buckland be so irresponsible? Maybe he should reconsider his choice of an obvious heir.

The lecture invented itself in his head as he sat at the head of the table. Merry would learn respect, even if he, as a father, had to drill it into his foolish head with a sledgehammer.

But his vengefulness had abated as time went on. The lightning and the thunder seemed to drown out his anger. Worry began to creep into his thoughts. Merry is a good lad, and he loves his mother, Saradoc thought. He knew this was special, and he would never have missed it.

Would he?

Maybe something had gone wrong. Meriadoc always was prone to disaster. Maybe something happened.

But Saradoc Brandybuck refused to believe it. No. Merry was irresponsible and immature. He would get it hard when he got home, thought Saradoc, or else take my Mastership from me and sell me to the dogs!

Pippin saw these conflicting emotions flash across his uncle's face in a matter of a few seconds. They scared him, frankly. Merry never had the best relationship with his demanding and strictly proper father, but he was his dad.

Suddenly Pippin needed to go. He needed to leave. He felt crowded and pushed. Usually Merry always knew when he got like that, and he always took him for a ride or a fishing trip or, maybe, if Pip was feeling brave enough, for a swim. But Merry wasn't there.

"I going to go out for a walk," Pippin stammered. Distracted by his own occupied thoughts, Saradoc nodded absentmindedly.

He didn't really know where he was going, but before he knew it Pippin was out in the rain. Walking. Where to? He didn't know.

Then a thought struck him, and he knew what he needed to do. He would never sleep tonight if we was worrying about Merry, and he needed to know what was happening. He made his way to the stables.

It was eerily quiet in the dark night of the thunderstorm. No one was around as Pippin strode in, and he went straight to the pony that Merry had given him for the latter's birthday. As he was pulling the saddle over the animal's back, Pippin heard a voice behind him.

"Ah, now, where do ya think you're going in this stormy weather?"

It was Gus Hornblower, the stable head. He had a calculating look under big white brows, and Pippin had a brief thought that he might not be doing the right thing. The idea was interrupted as the distinct sound of a horse's stampeding hooves sounded through the night.

Merry! It had to be him! Relief flooded over the young Took. His cousin was back!

But it was obviously not the case.

The pony was alone. There was no rider.

Pippin and Gus had stood outside while the animal pranced under the barn, shaking his mane as he made it to relative safety. A million excuses ran through both of their minds, but none seemed to click. Turning back to his half-way saddled pony, Pippin managed to assert, "I'm going after him."

Gus nodded thoughtfully. Pippin had steeled himself for debate and was surprised – and not wholly pleasantly so – that none was forthcoming. He needed Gus to tell him he couldn't go. He needed to plead with the old hobbit for permission to save his cousin. He needed some sort of verbal determination.

But, as he was apparently free to go, he pushed childhood insecurities out of his mind and led the animal out into the abating storm. He could feel the grey steel of the stable master's eyes on his shoulder blades as he pulled himself – shaking and trembling – onto the saturated saddle. The sensed glare coming from the old man as Pippin urged his pony to a gallop felt nearly incriminating.

If Merry had so much as a slight smirk on his impish face when he caught up with him, Pippin would kill him.


Fredegar Bolger was livid.

Merry Brandybuck was a hard enough pill to swallow. It took sheer unbiased trust in his sister's good judgment and a fair amount of self-deprecation to convince himself that she would be all right carousing around with the King of Troublemakers. That in itself took a long time to come to terms with, and even longer to believe it just might work out.

Now, in the early hours of the morning, while the earth was still soaked in the rain of last night's storm, Estella was nowhere to be seen. She was out there, who knows where, with the untamable and irresponsible Meriadoc Brandybuck, future Master of Buckland.

Had Merry been there right then, nothing in Middle Earth would have stopped Fatty from putting his fists up the side of the blonde hobbit's head. Fury flowed over the Bolger in waves, and he was determined to go after his little sister, and in the process terminate her chances of ever being a Brandybuck.

The sky was still predominately black, with only the barest kiss of pink light from the rising sun. Fatty was in the small barn, saddling up his prized pony, when he heard the sound of hoof steps. One animal. Not two. One.

He wasn't quite sure which one he would be angrier to see: Merry or Estella. If she was by herself, what could ever have happened for Merry to leave her? What could he have done to her? On the other hand, if Merry came riding up all by himself, that would mean Estella was out there all alone.

As Fatty led his pony out of the small shelter, he was surprised to see neither of them. A very wet and a very tired Pippin sat on one of the Brandybuck steeds, a mirrored determined look on his thin face.

A short period of silence ensued.

"Merry hasn't come back?" Pippin asked, his voice cracking slightly. Whether that was from the damp weather or from emotion, Fatty couldn't tell.

"Obviously not," growled Fatty, at this point not caring if he snapped at the Thain's only son. "I'm riding out to find them."

"I'm coming with you," Pippin asserted, scrubbing a hand through his damp brown locks. Fatty shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

With a hop-skip Fredegar jumped onto a chestnut pony's back. "They probably went towards the river. We'll start there." Pippin nodded, casting a wary glance at the obviously agitated hobbit. The two hobbit lads set off into the forest.


Hope y'all liked it!

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Merry and Estella are soon to be found...and then the story can truly start. :)

~Pidge