A/N: Is that all I'm getting? Just the one? Well, thankyou anyway Natta.
Merry gazed around at his friends, how much they must love him to still be standing here after all that Merry had put them through, all six of them. Wait, maybe his mind was still muggy. Six? He blinked and would have rubbed his eyes if he could but there were still six. Frodo, Rosie, Pippin, Sam and two more people standing behind Frodo with their hands on his shoulders. Merry squinted, they looked familiar to him.
"You didn't tell me you had other guests staying Sam." He said.
"Err," said Sam, running his hand through his hair, "Well, we don't."
"Then who are they?" Said Merry, now thoroughly confused.
"Sorry Mr. Merry, I've lost your meaning. Who are 'they'?"
"Why, the two standing behind Frodo of course!" said Merry to Sam, then he turned to the two, a fine gentlehobbit and his lady dressed in their best clothes. "And a good day to you!" they nodded in return and removed their hands from Frodo's shoulder as he turned to check if anyone was standing behind him.
"Merry, you're seeing things. There's no one there, unless you're talking about a bluebottle, and there's only one of those." Frodo stated after studying the space behind him carefully for any signs of life."
"Frodo!" said Merry, exasperated "It's not like you to be so rude! Sorry for my friend here, he's usually more polite than this." He added to the two, giving Frodo a stern look.
"No," said Pippin, "Frodo's right, there's no one there." He put his hand on Merry's forehead. "You're still quite hot, but not really hot enough to be hallucinating, perhaps it's the lack of food." Was Pippin right? Was he hallucinating? If he was, they were certainly the most coherent hallucinations he'd ever had. They usually rushed about and paid no attention to him, unless it was to leer threateningly.
He closed and rested his eyes, if they were gone when he opened them again, they were hallucinations. He opened his eyes.
"Are they gone?" asked Pippin, for he could see what Merry was doing. Merry shook his head and continued to stare slightly past Frodo. "Maybe if you have something to drink." and Rosie went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
"I'm not sure they are hallucinations Pippin, at least, they're not very hallucination-like."
"They are if we can't see them Merry." Replied Pippin. Merry ignored him and addressed the two again.
"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" The gentlehobbit, in all his finery stood forward, neatly dodging Frodo as he stepped in front of him.
"But of course. I am Drogo Baggins," he said bowing low, "And this here," he continued, motioning to the Lady, "Is my wife, Primula." Merry stared in wide-eyed shock.
"What did they say?" asked Frodo, becoming quite interested, Frodo could almost believe that there was someone standing behind him, it was beginning to make him feel uneasy.
"And if you're lying about this and you can't see the slightest bit more than we can, I think I might just kill you." Added Pippin, with a humorous glint in his eye. But Merry didn't react and stayed with the shocked expression stuck firmly on his face. "Merry?" prompted Pippin.
"I. I can't say." Said Merry, he didn't want to tell Frodo, because he knew the pain that his parents dying had caused Frodo and he didn't want to remind him of it, especially if they might not even exist.
"Merry, don't be such a twit, of course you can." Said Pippin, who was growing a little tired of Merry's behaviour and, having not slept much for four nights running, wasn't particularly perceptive of his cousin's face.
"Well," began Merry, "It's you're mother and father Frodo." Frodo's face was just as shocked as Merry's. And Pippins became more worried, he hadn't really believed Merry at first, knowing his pranking nature even when he was deadly ill, but he also knew that Merry wouldn't be so cruel as to joke about such a sensitive and hurtful subject. No hallucinations were good hallucinations.
"I'm sorry Frodo," began Merry but Frodo interrupted,
"No no, don't worry, it's not your fault." His words slowly grew quieter and eventually faded into silence, the silence engulfed the entire room and he couldn't help but be reminded of his parents' funeral.
~***~
Everyone stood on the banks of the river. There were people crying and people sniffling into their handkerchiefs. But Frodo, the one who should be crying loudest of all was standing in complete silence, his breath barely moving him.
On the outside he seemed so strong, others marvelled at how he had dealt with it, when he had been told he'd cried, of course, but he seemed otherwise as happy as a lad in his situation could be. He still played with the other children and had adjusted well to life with the Brandybucks.
In truth, a truth that only he knew, he was breaking up. The sadness ran so deep that tears meant nothing. The happy face was there only to fool the older hobbits. At night, when he was alone, he could cry and cry and there seemed to be no end, he'd hug his quilt tight and use it to stifle his cries. Whenever he'd been sad before, his mother had always hugged him and told him everything was all right and when she was there, it was. But now, the one time he really needed his mother, she wasn't there; she was the reason for his despair.
When his mother had not been there to care for him he had turned to his father. He always knew what to do and how to make things better. But he was gone, his strong hands would never hold Frodo again.
This wasn't what pained him the most, as terrible as it was. He wished only to talk to them, to have them back with him, if only for a day, an hour! A single minute even! He knew exactly what he would say to them, for although he didn't dwell on it while awake, in his dreams he would meet them.
They would come home, wet and laughing, like they had so many times when they went swimming and Frodo would run up to them and hug them, hold them and never let go. Then he would tell them what he longed to tell them before they had left the house that night. The only words he needed to have said to them.
"Thankyou, mother, father. Thankyou and goodbye." And as sure as the moon revolving around the Earth, they would leave him, leave him to bask in the bliss of his parents being alive and then to the horror when he remembered it wasn't, and couldn't be true. He had seen the bodies himself.
There were many nights when he woke in the morning with hitched breaths and found wet patches on the pillow. But forever and anon he would strive to be the happy child everyone saw him as. The horrible lie, how could he lie to them so? Never again. Never.
Merry gazed around at his friends, how much they must love him to still be standing here after all that Merry had put them through, all six of them. Wait, maybe his mind was still muggy. Six? He blinked and would have rubbed his eyes if he could but there were still six. Frodo, Rosie, Pippin, Sam and two more people standing behind Frodo with their hands on his shoulders. Merry squinted, they looked familiar to him.
"You didn't tell me you had other guests staying Sam." He said.
"Err," said Sam, running his hand through his hair, "Well, we don't."
"Then who are they?" Said Merry, now thoroughly confused.
"Sorry Mr. Merry, I've lost your meaning. Who are 'they'?"
"Why, the two standing behind Frodo of course!" said Merry to Sam, then he turned to the two, a fine gentlehobbit and his lady dressed in their best clothes. "And a good day to you!" they nodded in return and removed their hands from Frodo's shoulder as he turned to check if anyone was standing behind him.
"Merry, you're seeing things. There's no one there, unless you're talking about a bluebottle, and there's only one of those." Frodo stated after studying the space behind him carefully for any signs of life."
"Frodo!" said Merry, exasperated "It's not like you to be so rude! Sorry for my friend here, he's usually more polite than this." He added to the two, giving Frodo a stern look.
"No," said Pippin, "Frodo's right, there's no one there." He put his hand on Merry's forehead. "You're still quite hot, but not really hot enough to be hallucinating, perhaps it's the lack of food." Was Pippin right? Was he hallucinating? If he was, they were certainly the most coherent hallucinations he'd ever had. They usually rushed about and paid no attention to him, unless it was to leer threateningly.
He closed and rested his eyes, if they were gone when he opened them again, they were hallucinations. He opened his eyes.
"Are they gone?" asked Pippin, for he could see what Merry was doing. Merry shook his head and continued to stare slightly past Frodo. "Maybe if you have something to drink." and Rosie went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
"I'm not sure they are hallucinations Pippin, at least, they're not very hallucination-like."
"They are if we can't see them Merry." Replied Pippin. Merry ignored him and addressed the two again.
"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" The gentlehobbit, in all his finery stood forward, neatly dodging Frodo as he stepped in front of him.
"But of course. I am Drogo Baggins," he said bowing low, "And this here," he continued, motioning to the Lady, "Is my wife, Primula." Merry stared in wide-eyed shock.
"What did they say?" asked Frodo, becoming quite interested, Frodo could almost believe that there was someone standing behind him, it was beginning to make him feel uneasy.
"And if you're lying about this and you can't see the slightest bit more than we can, I think I might just kill you." Added Pippin, with a humorous glint in his eye. But Merry didn't react and stayed with the shocked expression stuck firmly on his face. "Merry?" prompted Pippin.
"I. I can't say." Said Merry, he didn't want to tell Frodo, because he knew the pain that his parents dying had caused Frodo and he didn't want to remind him of it, especially if they might not even exist.
"Merry, don't be such a twit, of course you can." Said Pippin, who was growing a little tired of Merry's behaviour and, having not slept much for four nights running, wasn't particularly perceptive of his cousin's face.
"Well," began Merry, "It's you're mother and father Frodo." Frodo's face was just as shocked as Merry's. And Pippins became more worried, he hadn't really believed Merry at first, knowing his pranking nature even when he was deadly ill, but he also knew that Merry wouldn't be so cruel as to joke about such a sensitive and hurtful subject. No hallucinations were good hallucinations.
"I'm sorry Frodo," began Merry but Frodo interrupted,
"No no, don't worry, it's not your fault." His words slowly grew quieter and eventually faded into silence, the silence engulfed the entire room and he couldn't help but be reminded of his parents' funeral.
~***~
Everyone stood on the banks of the river. There were people crying and people sniffling into their handkerchiefs. But Frodo, the one who should be crying loudest of all was standing in complete silence, his breath barely moving him.
On the outside he seemed so strong, others marvelled at how he had dealt with it, when he had been told he'd cried, of course, but he seemed otherwise as happy as a lad in his situation could be. He still played with the other children and had adjusted well to life with the Brandybucks.
In truth, a truth that only he knew, he was breaking up. The sadness ran so deep that tears meant nothing. The happy face was there only to fool the older hobbits. At night, when he was alone, he could cry and cry and there seemed to be no end, he'd hug his quilt tight and use it to stifle his cries. Whenever he'd been sad before, his mother had always hugged him and told him everything was all right and when she was there, it was. But now, the one time he really needed his mother, she wasn't there; she was the reason for his despair.
When his mother had not been there to care for him he had turned to his father. He always knew what to do and how to make things better. But he was gone, his strong hands would never hold Frodo again.
This wasn't what pained him the most, as terrible as it was. He wished only to talk to them, to have them back with him, if only for a day, an hour! A single minute even! He knew exactly what he would say to them, for although he didn't dwell on it while awake, in his dreams he would meet them.
They would come home, wet and laughing, like they had so many times when they went swimming and Frodo would run up to them and hug them, hold them and never let go. Then he would tell them what he longed to tell them before they had left the house that night. The only words he needed to have said to them.
"Thankyou, mother, father. Thankyou and goodbye." And as sure as the moon revolving around the Earth, they would leave him, leave him to bask in the bliss of his parents being alive and then to the horror when he remembered it wasn't, and couldn't be true. He had seen the bodies himself.
There were many nights when he woke in the morning with hitched breaths and found wet patches on the pillow. But forever and anon he would strive to be the happy child everyone saw him as. The horrible lie, how could he lie to them so? Never again. Never.