TITLE: "Brandywine"
AUTHOR: Mainframe
RATING: PG
PAIRING: None so far
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?
NOTES: A huge, huge thank you to Rachel for betaring these last two chapters!
STORY WATCH:
Brandywine
1 Chapter 14: Awakenings
The new day brought much joy to the Gamgee's (or at least if Bell Gamgee had been awake it would have) as Samwise awoke with a start; this was not his room it was Frodo's, and on further inspection this was not his nightshirt either! He looked down at the pale-blue cotton shirt and fingered the delicately embroidered drawstring's, it was a little too tight for him across the chest, definitely Frodo's shirt. He sat up and squinted around the room, the sun was streaming through the window and birds were chirping their various good mornings to the new day. As his eyes adjusted and he allowed them to wonder that they fell upon the two other beds in the room, more to the point those who lay in them. He went to move and hissed as pain emanated from his bandaged wrist, holding it up and carefully rotating it using his elbow he examined it. It was swollen and deep bruises had discoloured his fingers and a good portion of his arm, he wandered if he'd broken it and wiggled the fingers as much as their puffed up joints would allow. No, no breaks, but he'd be darned if he could remember how it happened.
He spotted his mother fast asleep in the chair by the now ashen fire, she looked peaceful but worn, it was then that the events of the previous day came back to him and with a muffled whimper he slide from the bed. His knees refused to lock on their first attempt, leaving him dangling by his good hand from the bedpost, before in sheer determination he wobbled from his bed to Frodo's, leaning heavily on the wooden frame for support, he looked down upon his dear masters face.
Frodo was in deep sleep, he was exhausted from his cough and even now as he drew breath Sam could hear a low rumbling rattle; it sounded painful. Emboldened Sam reached out and brushed back several stray locks that had found their way into his master's eyes, he knew Frodo would have wanted that, but he also felt the need to make contact. Frodo stirred and Sam couldn't help himself as he continued to stroke through those dark curls, frowning slightly at how dry and dull they had become in such a short time, it's usual silken softness and sheen was gone.
*This is all your fault Samwise Gamgee! * He berated himself, "I'm sorry Mr Frodo," he whispered as Frodo grew still. He trailed his fingertips lightly down the side of Frodo's face, marvelling at how soft his skin felt despite its terrible temperature. His fingers glided lower, following the gentle curve of jaw to chin and came to hover over broken lips. He hardly dared breath, never before had he touched his master in such a way, yet his hands seemed to move of their own accord.
*So beautiful...prettier than sunshine on water* He stood mesmerised.
"Sam"
Sam snatched back his hand and spun in the direction of the voice with such speed that his head pounded in protest and it took his vision a moment to adjust. Merry.
Sam had not noticed but Merry had been lying awake the whole time and was now sitting up in bed, his covers tightly clutched to his chest, watching the silent exchange. Merry saw the young hobbit shake with the renewed effort to remain upright, shame burned behind those big brown eyes; Merry beaconed him, patting the empty space on his bed. When Sam finally reached him, he needed to be helped onto the bed, Merry steeled himself as he pulled Sam up onto the bed with a grunt, his other hand clutching his rib of it's own accord.
When Sam managed to catch his breath he asked quietly "Are you in pain Mr Merry?" His gaze travelling to where Merry still clutched his side.
Merry instantly allowed his arm to drop. "Yes, just a bit bruised is all...you?" He inquired looking to the injured wrist.
"Same as you I reckon" Sam said absentmindedly as they both watched their sick friend.
After a long silence Sam found the strength to scoot back against the wall and hugged his knees to his chest. His gaze never wavered from Frodo.
"I would like ta thank you Mr Merry for savin my life" He turned to Merry then and offered his hand. Merry smiled a little at his formality, but shook his hand nonetheless.
"Think nothing of it, what are friends for?" And then as the realisation suddenly dawned on him, "I would also like to apologise Sam, I think I must have done this" He pointed to Sam's injury looking guilty.
"I don't see there's ought to apologise for Sir, I'd be breath water for air by now it weren't for you and Mr Frodo" But his breath caught and the name died in his throat. He clamped his mouth shut and refused to meet Merry's concerned gaze.
Merry sighed, he too, was desperately concerned over his cousin and had actually awoken before Sam, he'd been watching and listening to the rhythm of Frodo's breathing. Even though it held a disturbing rattle, it was a comfort to watch his chest rise and fall.
Frodo had been Merry's best friend at Brandy Hall and they had enjoyed playing many a prank and getting into all sorts of trouble together, that was until Frodo accepted Bilbo's offer to move to Hobbiton. Merry had been very bitter about that for a while, he felt as if he had been left behind and that maybe he had said or done something that swayed Frodo's decision. All such thoughts had been quashed as Frodo had taken him one side before leaving, to explain his reasons, and that he would visit often. Bilbo had also given Merry an open invitation to visit Bag-End. It was bitter to swallow but that at least had made it a little easier.
There had always been a slight tension between Sam and himself and it emanated from Merry, to his shame, he knew that Samwise was aware of it though never once voiced it. Deep down he could not help the dark feelings that twisted his insides, he was jealous of Sam's friendship with Frodo. Frodo and Sam seemed to share a bond that grew in strength with each year that passed, even to the extent that often one would finish off the others sentence (accents aside of course). Merry couldn't help feeling as if he was loosing his older cousin and that he himself was slowly being replaced. It was childish and selfish and he knew it, especially since he had Pippin as a companion, but the feelings were there and they needed to be vanquished.
Merry felt retched as he watched the young gardener shiver, without warning he opened his blankets and drew Sam in. Sam stiffened at first unsure what Merry was doing, but as Merry fussed, making sure that Sam was completely covered Sam relaxed a little, though he was blushing furiously. It wasn't right for two hobbits of such social standing as Frodo Baggins and Meriadoc Brandybuck to treat him as an equal, like now.
"Relax Sam, I'm just trying to stop you from catching a worse chill, Frodo will have my hide if you do" His jest, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam.
"I think I've already got one Sir, if this stuffed up nose of mine is anything ta go by" he looked to Merry then, "And you look about the same if you don't mind me sayin" observing the Brandybuck's flushed cheeks and nose.
Merry just chuckled and nodded in agreement before returning his gaze to Frodo. "You know I'm glad that Frodo has a friend like you living so near...it wasn't easy for him, leaving Buckland I mean. I can imagine adjusting to life in Hobbiton must have been quite stressful for him, especially not being able to swim and climb trees in public and all the things we take for granted at Brandy Hall. It's very reserved here. I don't mean offence Sam, but Hobbiton is very dull compared to Buckland, I never will understand how Bilbo, being as he is, can tolerate it here".
Sam sat in silent digestion for before answering, "Yes Sir, he did find it hard at first, don't think he left the smial much in the beginin. But Mr Bilbo took him off explorin an introduced him to a lot of the local lads his age round here..." He frowned then "...well he an most of the lads his age didn't hit it off you might say. He got a lot of stick about bein a Buck..." Sam slapped a hand over his mouth and cursed himself under his breath. Not only had he just spoken something that he knew Frodo didn't want anyone else to know about, but also just insulted Merry's family name. He began to stutter and stammer an apology until Merry finally interrupted his ramblings.
"Peace Sam, I don't think Frodo will mind my knowing this...and as for the other, it was not you who made the slur, was it?"
"NO! No Sir not me, I would never..."
Bell stirred in her sleep at Sam's overzealous denial, shifting her head to rest at a more comfortable angle before settling. Sam and Merry watched intently until her breathing grew deep before quietly continuing their conversation.
"Well then, please continue. He got stick for being a Bucklander you were saying"
Sam reddened again and gave a quick nod. "Beggin your pardon Sir but yes, he did. Bucklander's have a reputation in Hobbiton Sir, no hobbit sense it's said...now as far as water goes I agree Sir, I don't reckon hobbits were meant for water, but that's as far as my agreeing goes" He looked to Merry to gage the Brandybuck's reaction, there was a faint flicker of something in his grey eyes, as if a storm swirled in their depths, but for the moment remained under lock and key and Sam did not fully understand what that meant. Sam did not back down however, he meant no insult but he stood by what he believed, and was prepared to take the consequences.
Merry laughed at length "After yesterday, how can I disagree with you. But I do ask you to consider this" he paused as he sneezed into his side of the blanket to muffle it's echo and continued with a groan, "if Frodo had not been able to swim... then he would not be alive now, that's probably what saved his life". Merry watched Sam ponder that fact; glad of his distraction he allowed his hand to lightly press against his injured rib. That cold water had done it no good at all, it ached continuously and only heat seemed to chase it away. Merry decided to change the subject to one that he greatly desired tackle. "You know I was jealous of you at first" he blurted, allowing those words to hang in the air, feeling slightly better for voicing them.
Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish several times before the shock wore off; Merry watched in amusement. This was something Sam had not expected, he knew full well that there was always...something tense when the two of them met, and time had not eased that tension. But he would never have dreamed that this was the reason, Meriadoc Brandybuck, son and heir to Saradoc Master of Buckland, was jealous of Samwise Gamgee, a gardener?
Merry couldn't suppress a chuckle that crept from his soar throat, all this talking was making his throat dry, but Sam's reaction was just too comical. "Frodo and I were practically joined at the hip as mum often said, (Esmeralda Took) but then he moved here and I couldn't come and visit nearly as often as I would have liked...and then he met you". Merry's voice held a note of sadness as he remembered what it had been like when it was just he and his cousin, and then his first introduction to Sam whilst visiting Frodo not long after the move.
"Beggin your pardon Mr Merry, but Mr Frodo always speaks very highly of you...and I can tell he misses you, even now. Not like before thankfully, before it were too much, he'd make himself sick"
The last piece of news disturbed Merry greatly, Frodo had always been a touch too sensitive for a lad; but his eyes sparkled as a wide grin spread from ear to ear. He had often wondered if Frodo missed him as much as he missed Frodo, it was comforting. "Thank you Sam, but I feel that you are closer to him now, and I do not begrudge it now, I have Pippin as he has you" He paused considering his next words carefully, he did not wish to speak out of turn. "He cares for you a great deal you realise?
If it were at all possible Sam's blush deepened and he played distractedly with the hem of his nightshirt, he nodded as his eyes found Frodo's face once more. He was beautiful awake, he was absolutely breathtaking in sleep, despite the sickness which he could just about detected around the heavy scent of Lavender that perfumed the air.
Merry uncharacteristically reached the small distance between them under the covers and drew the teary-eyed hobbit into a strong one-armed embrace. Sam dissolved into silent tears that shook the pair of them and brought Merry's side more discomfort, but he ignored it. "He'll be alright, Frodo's stronger than he looks and has come through worse" He only wished he were as confident as he sounded.
*Elbereth, please don't make me a liar*
To Merry's surprise he realised that Sam had fallen fast asleep soon after his sobs had subsided, his breathing was deep and steady, with just the hint of a catch that Merry could detect. Yes, Sam was indeed coming down with a cold. He carefully lowered him into the bed and shifted the covers from himself to Sam, tucking him in securely and gently pulling his injured arm free to rest across his broadening chest.
He could tell why Frodo held the gardener so dear; there wasn't a mean nor dishonest bone in his body.
Merry stifled another sneeze as he slipped from his bed and came to stand next to his cousins, he sighed. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed, that was new, it had to have happened just a moments ago. Merry brushed back the same renegade dark curls that Sam had been playing with earlier, and lay the back of his hand against his brow. He quickly snatched it back, startled by the heat that radiated from his cousins flesh.
*How can you endure this? *
He stood there for long moments contemplating, he hardly noticed when he himself began to shiver, so lost was he in his thoughts. He didn't even hear the bedroom door open, nor see the shadowed figure of his Uncle slip silently through as he came to stand near Merry.
Bilbo looked a mess and he knew it, to his annoyance. His braces were missing, as was his weskit and the top buttons of his shirt had been undone. Someone must have put him to bed, he was embarrassed by the thought, but even more disturbed that he had fallen asleep in the first place and left his young nephews alone.
As he entered Frodo's room he was surprised to see the figure of Merry trembling slightly against the light that poured through the window behind him. His joy at seeing his nephew awake and well enough to stand was short lived; he had many questions that needed answers as he observed Merry's right arm thrown tightly about his waist. He came to stand less than a few feet away and slightly to the side of the young Brandybuck, with stealth born not only of a hobbit, but also of a thief. His travels had taught him well, for he now stood less than an arms length away from Merry, and Merry remained ignorant of his presence.
Merry's eyes seemed dull, as they remained fixed on Frodo, it was only then in that moment that Bilbo realised how changed Merry had become. His eyes were full of contained emotion and obvious distress over his ill cousin... yet they were hard as stone and gave very little of anything else away. Not the eyes of a child in their teens at all, it was the look of someone lost to themselves. *How different you are to Frodo my lad* he mused. Frodo with eyes so full of life and love; that burned with curiosity and a lust for knowledge that rivalled his own, open and trusting. Alive.
Movement caught his eye as Merry reached out a slender hand and dipped one of Frodo's handkerchiefs into the bowl of cold water that stood on the bookshelf; just enough to dampen it and began to gently dab at Frodo's brow.
"I wish you would wake up dear cousin" he paused as he continued to mop his jaw and neck, "Sam is blaming himself for this whole mess, and you know how stubborn he is...I don't think he will believe anyone but you".
Newly formed beads of sweat were slowly trickling down Frodo's temples, as Merry brought the cloth back to rest were he started. Frodo stirred, brows knitting together as he fought for consciousness.
Merry dropped the handkerchief and laced his hand in Frodo's. "Frodo? Frodo, can you hear me?" he held his breath and leaned close, his own pain forgotten. Bilbo took a step closer and also held his breath with barely contained excitement.
Frodo's long dark lashes fluttered several times before they opened half way to reveal fever bright sapphires, glazed and unfocused. His fingers weakly closed around Merry's, "Papa?" he whispered, drawing a shaky breath and repeating himself. He turned his head slowly towards Merry, visibly annoyed at how hard it was to do just that. His throat was very dry and hurt to swallow, his lips were parched and he felt entirely miserable. "Papa I'm thirsty".
Merry felt sick and could not stifle a dry sob, his body began to shake with renewed weariness and he swooned.
Bilbo shot forward and steadied him with one arm around his waist, careful to avoid the damaged side. "Easy lad, I'll take care of him now, back to bed with you."
Merry was too tired to even be startled; he'd gone beyond that emotion as exhaustion invaded it limbs. He allowed his uncle to help lower him into the chair between the two beds. "But uncle..." the timbre of his voice broke several times "...he doesn't recognise me!"
"It's the fever Merry, it's not over yet, and he still has a way to go before it breaks." He whispered softly as he stroked Frodo's cheek.
"But I thought...I thought that he was alright now that were safe indoors." A tear ran a slow course down his cheek as he stared wide-eyed at his Uncle.
Bilbo gave Merry his handkerchief and bustled around, finding the jug of Lemon and honey and pouring Frodo a small glass. He slowly lifted Frodo's head while pressing the glass to his lips insistently, gratified to see Frodo take several lethargic swallows before gasping for breath. Merry found the strength to take over from Bilbo as the older hobbit set about finding a new nightshirt. Merry managed to get Frodo to take half of the juice before it became obvious that Frodo was unable to swallow anymore. Merry lowered his head back to the pillow and slumped back into the chair as he watched his uncle strip his cousin of the damp garment and dress him in a new one.
Frodo's eyes had closed, but from the rise and fall of his chest Bilbo could tell he was not yet asleep. "There, does that feel better my boy? Is there anything you would like me to fetch for you?" He asked as he checked his temperature with the back of his hand for a second time in as many minutes.
Frodo licked his sore lips several times before he was able to form a reply. "No" he cracked his eyes open again and for a brief moment they were focused. "Uncle?"
"Hello lad, how are you feeling?"
He blinked at him; a small frown marred his features as he tried to understand the question. "Uncle?"
"Yes?"
"I think...I think I broke your vase" Tears pooled as he worried his bottom lip, eyes becoming impossibly large as he tried to hold back the tide and suppress a sob and failing on both counts. "I-I'm s-s-sorry." He sobbed.
Merry's heart broke as he watched his uncle quietly comfort his confused cousin, after several minutes of Bilbo gently rocking Frodo he broke into a sweet elven lullaby, it was as sweet as flowers smelt in spring after the rain. The song penetrated the haze and sent Frodo into a peaceful sleep, much to Bilbo's relief; Mrs Gamgee had not stirred once throughout the whole ordeal.
*Poor Bell, and Miss Goodbody by the sound of the snoring next door*
Merry's own lids began to droop; when he opened them again he found Bilbo gently pushing him down into Sam's bed and tucking him in. He realised that he must have dropped off briefly during Bilbo's song. He yawned and sneezed at the same time as his head settled comfortably into the soft pillow. "Uncle, is Frodo going to be alright?"
"He'll be just fine Merry, now enough! You and Sam are not to leave your beds, you both have colds of your own to work through, you leave Frodo to us"
"Your not just saying that to make me feel better are you? I mean...that's what I told Sam earlier, I wanted it to be true...but I really wasn't sure. Your not just doing what I did are you Bilbo?"
"No Merry, I firmly believe Frodo will be well before we know it ...and the three of you will be back driving me barmy in no time" He held a hanky to Merry's runny nose and instructed him to blow, before lightly brushing the pad of his thumb repeatedly over his eyebrow as before. Merry smiled and drifted off to the sound of elvish as Bilbo resumed his song.
Tbc ~
AUTHOR: Mainframe
RATING: PG
PAIRING: None so far
Disclaimer: The Hobbits belong to J. R.R. Tolkien and are not of my creation and I make no money from this or other stories involving them, this is purely a non-profit fiction of my creation in honour of the book & movies. However this storyline is mine.
SUMMARY: It's been raining none stop for over a month in the shire and Bilbo is being driven mad by three young hobbits with too much energy to spend. But is his solution to the problem a wise one or could it led to disaster?
NOTES: A huge, huge thank you to Rachel for betaring these last two chapters!
STORY WATCH:
Brandywine
1 Chapter 14: Awakenings
The new day brought much joy to the Gamgee's (or at least if Bell Gamgee had been awake it would have) as Samwise awoke with a start; this was not his room it was Frodo's, and on further inspection this was not his nightshirt either! He looked down at the pale-blue cotton shirt and fingered the delicately embroidered drawstring's, it was a little too tight for him across the chest, definitely Frodo's shirt. He sat up and squinted around the room, the sun was streaming through the window and birds were chirping their various good mornings to the new day. As his eyes adjusted and he allowed them to wonder that they fell upon the two other beds in the room, more to the point those who lay in them. He went to move and hissed as pain emanated from his bandaged wrist, holding it up and carefully rotating it using his elbow he examined it. It was swollen and deep bruises had discoloured his fingers and a good portion of his arm, he wandered if he'd broken it and wiggled the fingers as much as their puffed up joints would allow. No, no breaks, but he'd be darned if he could remember how it happened.
He spotted his mother fast asleep in the chair by the now ashen fire, she looked peaceful but worn, it was then that the events of the previous day came back to him and with a muffled whimper he slide from the bed. His knees refused to lock on their first attempt, leaving him dangling by his good hand from the bedpost, before in sheer determination he wobbled from his bed to Frodo's, leaning heavily on the wooden frame for support, he looked down upon his dear masters face.
Frodo was in deep sleep, he was exhausted from his cough and even now as he drew breath Sam could hear a low rumbling rattle; it sounded painful. Emboldened Sam reached out and brushed back several stray locks that had found their way into his master's eyes, he knew Frodo would have wanted that, but he also felt the need to make contact. Frodo stirred and Sam couldn't help himself as he continued to stroke through those dark curls, frowning slightly at how dry and dull they had become in such a short time, it's usual silken softness and sheen was gone.
*This is all your fault Samwise Gamgee! * He berated himself, "I'm sorry Mr Frodo," he whispered as Frodo grew still. He trailed his fingertips lightly down the side of Frodo's face, marvelling at how soft his skin felt despite its terrible temperature. His fingers glided lower, following the gentle curve of jaw to chin and came to hover over broken lips. He hardly dared breath, never before had he touched his master in such a way, yet his hands seemed to move of their own accord.
*So beautiful...prettier than sunshine on water* He stood mesmerised.
"Sam"
Sam snatched back his hand and spun in the direction of the voice with such speed that his head pounded in protest and it took his vision a moment to adjust. Merry.
Sam had not noticed but Merry had been lying awake the whole time and was now sitting up in bed, his covers tightly clutched to his chest, watching the silent exchange. Merry saw the young hobbit shake with the renewed effort to remain upright, shame burned behind those big brown eyes; Merry beaconed him, patting the empty space on his bed. When Sam finally reached him, he needed to be helped onto the bed, Merry steeled himself as he pulled Sam up onto the bed with a grunt, his other hand clutching his rib of it's own accord.
When Sam managed to catch his breath he asked quietly "Are you in pain Mr Merry?" His gaze travelling to where Merry still clutched his side.
Merry instantly allowed his arm to drop. "Yes, just a bit bruised is all...you?" He inquired looking to the injured wrist.
"Same as you I reckon" Sam said absentmindedly as they both watched their sick friend.
After a long silence Sam found the strength to scoot back against the wall and hugged his knees to his chest. His gaze never wavered from Frodo.
"I would like ta thank you Mr Merry for savin my life" He turned to Merry then and offered his hand. Merry smiled a little at his formality, but shook his hand nonetheless.
"Think nothing of it, what are friends for?" And then as the realisation suddenly dawned on him, "I would also like to apologise Sam, I think I must have done this" He pointed to Sam's injury looking guilty.
"I don't see there's ought to apologise for Sir, I'd be breath water for air by now it weren't for you and Mr Frodo" But his breath caught and the name died in his throat. He clamped his mouth shut and refused to meet Merry's concerned gaze.
Merry sighed, he too, was desperately concerned over his cousin and had actually awoken before Sam, he'd been watching and listening to the rhythm of Frodo's breathing. Even though it held a disturbing rattle, it was a comfort to watch his chest rise and fall.
Frodo had been Merry's best friend at Brandy Hall and they had enjoyed playing many a prank and getting into all sorts of trouble together, that was until Frodo accepted Bilbo's offer to move to Hobbiton. Merry had been very bitter about that for a while, he felt as if he had been left behind and that maybe he had said or done something that swayed Frodo's decision. All such thoughts had been quashed as Frodo had taken him one side before leaving, to explain his reasons, and that he would visit often. Bilbo had also given Merry an open invitation to visit Bag-End. It was bitter to swallow but that at least had made it a little easier.
There had always been a slight tension between Sam and himself and it emanated from Merry, to his shame, he knew that Samwise was aware of it though never once voiced it. Deep down he could not help the dark feelings that twisted his insides, he was jealous of Sam's friendship with Frodo. Frodo and Sam seemed to share a bond that grew in strength with each year that passed, even to the extent that often one would finish off the others sentence (accents aside of course). Merry couldn't help feeling as if he was loosing his older cousin and that he himself was slowly being replaced. It was childish and selfish and he knew it, especially since he had Pippin as a companion, but the feelings were there and they needed to be vanquished.
Merry felt retched as he watched the young gardener shiver, without warning he opened his blankets and drew Sam in. Sam stiffened at first unsure what Merry was doing, but as Merry fussed, making sure that Sam was completely covered Sam relaxed a little, though he was blushing furiously. It wasn't right for two hobbits of such social standing as Frodo Baggins and Meriadoc Brandybuck to treat him as an equal, like now.
"Relax Sam, I'm just trying to stop you from catching a worse chill, Frodo will have my hide if you do" His jest, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam.
"I think I've already got one Sir, if this stuffed up nose of mine is anything ta go by" he looked to Merry then, "And you look about the same if you don't mind me sayin" observing the Brandybuck's flushed cheeks and nose.
Merry just chuckled and nodded in agreement before returning his gaze to Frodo. "You know I'm glad that Frodo has a friend like you living so near...it wasn't easy for him, leaving Buckland I mean. I can imagine adjusting to life in Hobbiton must have been quite stressful for him, especially not being able to swim and climb trees in public and all the things we take for granted at Brandy Hall. It's very reserved here. I don't mean offence Sam, but Hobbiton is very dull compared to Buckland, I never will understand how Bilbo, being as he is, can tolerate it here".
Sam sat in silent digestion for before answering, "Yes Sir, he did find it hard at first, don't think he left the smial much in the beginin. But Mr Bilbo took him off explorin an introduced him to a lot of the local lads his age round here..." He frowned then "...well he an most of the lads his age didn't hit it off you might say. He got a lot of stick about bein a Buck..." Sam slapped a hand over his mouth and cursed himself under his breath. Not only had he just spoken something that he knew Frodo didn't want anyone else to know about, but also just insulted Merry's family name. He began to stutter and stammer an apology until Merry finally interrupted his ramblings.
"Peace Sam, I don't think Frodo will mind my knowing this...and as for the other, it was not you who made the slur, was it?"
"NO! No Sir not me, I would never..."
Bell stirred in her sleep at Sam's overzealous denial, shifting her head to rest at a more comfortable angle before settling. Sam and Merry watched intently until her breathing grew deep before quietly continuing their conversation.
"Well then, please continue. He got stick for being a Bucklander you were saying"
Sam reddened again and gave a quick nod. "Beggin your pardon Sir but yes, he did. Bucklander's have a reputation in Hobbiton Sir, no hobbit sense it's said...now as far as water goes I agree Sir, I don't reckon hobbits were meant for water, but that's as far as my agreeing goes" He looked to Merry to gage the Brandybuck's reaction, there was a faint flicker of something in his grey eyes, as if a storm swirled in their depths, but for the moment remained under lock and key and Sam did not fully understand what that meant. Sam did not back down however, he meant no insult but he stood by what he believed, and was prepared to take the consequences.
Merry laughed at length "After yesterday, how can I disagree with you. But I do ask you to consider this" he paused as he sneezed into his side of the blanket to muffle it's echo and continued with a groan, "if Frodo had not been able to swim... then he would not be alive now, that's probably what saved his life". Merry watched Sam ponder that fact; glad of his distraction he allowed his hand to lightly press against his injured rib. That cold water had done it no good at all, it ached continuously and only heat seemed to chase it away. Merry decided to change the subject to one that he greatly desired tackle. "You know I was jealous of you at first" he blurted, allowing those words to hang in the air, feeling slightly better for voicing them.
Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish several times before the shock wore off; Merry watched in amusement. This was something Sam had not expected, he knew full well that there was always...something tense when the two of them met, and time had not eased that tension. But he would never have dreamed that this was the reason, Meriadoc Brandybuck, son and heir to Saradoc Master of Buckland, was jealous of Samwise Gamgee, a gardener?
Merry couldn't suppress a chuckle that crept from his soar throat, all this talking was making his throat dry, but Sam's reaction was just too comical. "Frodo and I were practically joined at the hip as mum often said, (Esmeralda Took) but then he moved here and I couldn't come and visit nearly as often as I would have liked...and then he met you". Merry's voice held a note of sadness as he remembered what it had been like when it was just he and his cousin, and then his first introduction to Sam whilst visiting Frodo not long after the move.
"Beggin your pardon Mr Merry, but Mr Frodo always speaks very highly of you...and I can tell he misses you, even now. Not like before thankfully, before it were too much, he'd make himself sick"
The last piece of news disturbed Merry greatly, Frodo had always been a touch too sensitive for a lad; but his eyes sparkled as a wide grin spread from ear to ear. He had often wondered if Frodo missed him as much as he missed Frodo, it was comforting. "Thank you Sam, but I feel that you are closer to him now, and I do not begrudge it now, I have Pippin as he has you" He paused considering his next words carefully, he did not wish to speak out of turn. "He cares for you a great deal you realise?
If it were at all possible Sam's blush deepened and he played distractedly with the hem of his nightshirt, he nodded as his eyes found Frodo's face once more. He was beautiful awake, he was absolutely breathtaking in sleep, despite the sickness which he could just about detected around the heavy scent of Lavender that perfumed the air.
Merry uncharacteristically reached the small distance between them under the covers and drew the teary-eyed hobbit into a strong one-armed embrace. Sam dissolved into silent tears that shook the pair of them and brought Merry's side more discomfort, but he ignored it. "He'll be alright, Frodo's stronger than he looks and has come through worse" He only wished he were as confident as he sounded.
*Elbereth, please don't make me a liar*
To Merry's surprise he realised that Sam had fallen fast asleep soon after his sobs had subsided, his breathing was deep and steady, with just the hint of a catch that Merry could detect. Yes, Sam was indeed coming down with a cold. He carefully lowered him into the bed and shifted the covers from himself to Sam, tucking him in securely and gently pulling his injured arm free to rest across his broadening chest.
He could tell why Frodo held the gardener so dear; there wasn't a mean nor dishonest bone in his body.
Merry stifled another sneeze as he slipped from his bed and came to stand next to his cousins, he sighed. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed, that was new, it had to have happened just a moments ago. Merry brushed back the same renegade dark curls that Sam had been playing with earlier, and lay the back of his hand against his brow. He quickly snatched it back, startled by the heat that radiated from his cousins flesh.
*How can you endure this? *
He stood there for long moments contemplating, he hardly noticed when he himself began to shiver, so lost was he in his thoughts. He didn't even hear the bedroom door open, nor see the shadowed figure of his Uncle slip silently through as he came to stand near Merry.
Bilbo looked a mess and he knew it, to his annoyance. His braces were missing, as was his weskit and the top buttons of his shirt had been undone. Someone must have put him to bed, he was embarrassed by the thought, but even more disturbed that he had fallen asleep in the first place and left his young nephews alone.
As he entered Frodo's room he was surprised to see the figure of Merry trembling slightly against the light that poured through the window behind him. His joy at seeing his nephew awake and well enough to stand was short lived; he had many questions that needed answers as he observed Merry's right arm thrown tightly about his waist. He came to stand less than a few feet away and slightly to the side of the young Brandybuck, with stealth born not only of a hobbit, but also of a thief. His travels had taught him well, for he now stood less than an arms length away from Merry, and Merry remained ignorant of his presence.
Merry's eyes seemed dull, as they remained fixed on Frodo, it was only then in that moment that Bilbo realised how changed Merry had become. His eyes were full of contained emotion and obvious distress over his ill cousin... yet they were hard as stone and gave very little of anything else away. Not the eyes of a child in their teens at all, it was the look of someone lost to themselves. *How different you are to Frodo my lad* he mused. Frodo with eyes so full of life and love; that burned with curiosity and a lust for knowledge that rivalled his own, open and trusting. Alive.
Movement caught his eye as Merry reached out a slender hand and dipped one of Frodo's handkerchiefs into the bowl of cold water that stood on the bookshelf; just enough to dampen it and began to gently dab at Frodo's brow.
"I wish you would wake up dear cousin" he paused as he continued to mop his jaw and neck, "Sam is blaming himself for this whole mess, and you know how stubborn he is...I don't think he will believe anyone but you".
Newly formed beads of sweat were slowly trickling down Frodo's temples, as Merry brought the cloth back to rest were he started. Frodo stirred, brows knitting together as he fought for consciousness.
Merry dropped the handkerchief and laced his hand in Frodo's. "Frodo? Frodo, can you hear me?" he held his breath and leaned close, his own pain forgotten. Bilbo took a step closer and also held his breath with barely contained excitement.
Frodo's long dark lashes fluttered several times before they opened half way to reveal fever bright sapphires, glazed and unfocused. His fingers weakly closed around Merry's, "Papa?" he whispered, drawing a shaky breath and repeating himself. He turned his head slowly towards Merry, visibly annoyed at how hard it was to do just that. His throat was very dry and hurt to swallow, his lips were parched and he felt entirely miserable. "Papa I'm thirsty".
Merry felt sick and could not stifle a dry sob, his body began to shake with renewed weariness and he swooned.
Bilbo shot forward and steadied him with one arm around his waist, careful to avoid the damaged side. "Easy lad, I'll take care of him now, back to bed with you."
Merry was too tired to even be startled; he'd gone beyond that emotion as exhaustion invaded it limbs. He allowed his uncle to help lower him into the chair between the two beds. "But uncle..." the timbre of his voice broke several times "...he doesn't recognise me!"
"It's the fever Merry, it's not over yet, and he still has a way to go before it breaks." He whispered softly as he stroked Frodo's cheek.
"But I thought...I thought that he was alright now that were safe indoors." A tear ran a slow course down his cheek as he stared wide-eyed at his Uncle.
Bilbo gave Merry his handkerchief and bustled around, finding the jug of Lemon and honey and pouring Frodo a small glass. He slowly lifted Frodo's head while pressing the glass to his lips insistently, gratified to see Frodo take several lethargic swallows before gasping for breath. Merry found the strength to take over from Bilbo as the older hobbit set about finding a new nightshirt. Merry managed to get Frodo to take half of the juice before it became obvious that Frodo was unable to swallow anymore. Merry lowered his head back to the pillow and slumped back into the chair as he watched his uncle strip his cousin of the damp garment and dress him in a new one.
Frodo's eyes had closed, but from the rise and fall of his chest Bilbo could tell he was not yet asleep. "There, does that feel better my boy? Is there anything you would like me to fetch for you?" He asked as he checked his temperature with the back of his hand for a second time in as many minutes.
Frodo licked his sore lips several times before he was able to form a reply. "No" he cracked his eyes open again and for a brief moment they were focused. "Uncle?"
"Hello lad, how are you feeling?"
He blinked at him; a small frown marred his features as he tried to understand the question. "Uncle?"
"Yes?"
"I think...I think I broke your vase" Tears pooled as he worried his bottom lip, eyes becoming impossibly large as he tried to hold back the tide and suppress a sob and failing on both counts. "I-I'm s-s-sorry." He sobbed.
Merry's heart broke as he watched his uncle quietly comfort his confused cousin, after several minutes of Bilbo gently rocking Frodo he broke into a sweet elven lullaby, it was as sweet as flowers smelt in spring after the rain. The song penetrated the haze and sent Frodo into a peaceful sleep, much to Bilbo's relief; Mrs Gamgee had not stirred once throughout the whole ordeal.
*Poor Bell, and Miss Goodbody by the sound of the snoring next door*
Merry's own lids began to droop; when he opened them again he found Bilbo gently pushing him down into Sam's bed and tucking him in. He realised that he must have dropped off briefly during Bilbo's song. He yawned and sneezed at the same time as his head settled comfortably into the soft pillow. "Uncle, is Frodo going to be alright?"
"He'll be just fine Merry, now enough! You and Sam are not to leave your beds, you both have colds of your own to work through, you leave Frodo to us"
"Your not just saying that to make me feel better are you? I mean...that's what I told Sam earlier, I wanted it to be true...but I really wasn't sure. Your not just doing what I did are you Bilbo?"
"No Merry, I firmly believe Frodo will be well before we know it ...and the three of you will be back driving me barmy in no time" He held a hanky to Merry's runny nose and instructed him to blow, before lightly brushing the pad of his thumb repeatedly over his eyebrow as before. Merry smiled and drifted off to the sound of elvish as Bilbo resumed his song.
Tbc ~