Two days had long since passed from the retreat of the Gwathlo' River. The trip had been strenuous on Merry for they had only made two rest stops in that time period and prepared small portions of food. Merry could hear Sam's stomach growling from time to time and even he found himself craving food. Both were being driven on without adequate amounts of nourishment and sleep.
It was now mid-afternoon but rain clouds were still increasing in the sky, blocking out the sun, but even that didn't decrease the temperature of the land. Autumn was muggy and the heat made the journey less then comfortable for the two travelers. Every minute Merry was shifting in the saddle in hopes of finding a better position, one that wouldn't irritate his raw backside.
"How much longer till we reach The Shire?" Merry asked. "I feel as if all this riding will drive me mad."
"Not far, not far," Sam answered. "We should reach The Willowcreek Inn at nightfall."
"I have never heard of that place," Merry said. "What is it like?"
"I suppose you wouldn't, since it's fairly new," Sam replied. "It was only built about three years back. The place is quite similar to The Prancing Pony; it harbors men and hobbits. Willowcreek has a good reputation though there are occasional fights amongst the guests but that happens everywhere. I've stayed there one night and feel it's as safe a place as any. Once there maybe we could even look into finding a doctor to tend to your wounds."
Merry shook his head. "I doubt one would be of any use to me Sam. Elessar has treated to my wounds the best he could and he is far greater then any common doctor. There's nothing more that can be done."
A silence came over them. Sam averted his gaze from the other hobbit and went back to staring at the horizon. Merry closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into Sam's shoulder, trying to find rest. He went into deep sleep.
Darkness swirled around his eyes and for a brief moment he was frightened but all was quickly washed away. He was no longer in a haze but back in The Shire; he could recognize the old orchard that he once played in. All was beautiful around him but he caught a far prettier sight. A young hobbit emerged from brush, long brown curls falling down her back, and deep hazel eyes shining.
"Estella," Merry muttered.
The hobbit giggled and disappeared back into the brush. With a cry Merry chased after her, calling her name, pleading with her to come back. She only turned her head to stick her tongue out at him and picked up the pace. Merry stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon a small clearing, bearing the tall tree where he had buried his beloved wife and cousin but the tombstones were no where in sight. Instead, he found Estella slumped against the tree smiling warmly at him.
"Estella, my love, is that truly you?" Merry asked, taking small, cautious steps toward her.
She laughed. "Of course it is me you foolish hobbit! My, my, are you becoming as dimwitted as your cousin Pippin? Come here and give your wife a hug!"
Merry ran to her side and buried his face in the crook of her neck, sobbing as he clung to her. The familiar scent of lilacs filled his nostrils, her old perfume, and the silky skin caressed his cheek. Soft hands ran across the back of his head in a soothing manner. He could hear her speaking to him but the words went over his head. He was too caught up in the moment to pay any heed to what she was saying. His entire body suddenly jerked in fright when another set of hands griped his shoulders tightly.
"Hope I didn't scare you too badly, cousin."
More tears spilled down his reddened cheeks. "Pippin!" Nothing had changed on the other hobbit, still appearing as young as the day he had been buried. "Pippin."
"Aye, tis me Merry," Pippin said.
A smile formed over Merry's face. "I'm finally at peace." The grins on Pippin and Estella's face vanished, leaving them with darkened features. Merry's joy also faded. "What is wrong?"
"Your time is not over yet," Pippin said. "The only reason you have been brought here was to heed a warning. Danger is still ahead of Merry and if you are not careful you shall fall, along with Sam."
"I do not understand!" Merry spat, anger swelling inside of him. "I am only here to receive such a frivolous statement?! Why do you do this to me! Every night I see the both of you yet I can never reach you! This is torture beyond anything else I have suffered!"
"Do not take the warning so lightly Merry," Pippin growled. "Men aren't the only danger that lies ahead at your destination. Although I hate saying it, you can not only be a hazard to yourself but others as well. You must be careful of your own actions or it may be Sam that will be the one to pay."
"I do not understand!" Merry wailed.
Pippin sighed. "You will in time sweet cousin. I know this isn't the best route to give you information but I can't stand to see you in any more pain, yet I know more will be coming very soon. I only wish to help you and this is the only way I know how. You all ready know that time is running short and if you do not make it Crickhollow then I fear that you will never find peace, for too much would be left undone and your soul will be heavy and torn. Choose your path carefully Merry and I would advise you not to do anything foolish though I doubt you'll listen, you never had. The past few weeks have been an example to that." Hands shook at Merry's shoulders. "Now wake up and remember what I have said!"
Merry's eyes flew open to find Sam looming over him, shaking him gently. "We are here Merry. We've finally arrived to Willowcreek Inn, where we may find a little time for rest."
The hobbit gazed at the landscape before him. The area was still heavily wooded and only a few houses were scattered about, emitting a warm orange glow from the windows. In front of him stood the inn, fairly large with a pleasant appearance. Near the right side of the inn ran a long stream, flowing fast down the land, near flooding from the rain. At the side of the building stood a stable and a man was approaching from there. His clothing was ragged and covered in muck and straw.
"Good evening sirs and welcome to The Willowcreek Inn," he chirped. "My name is Irune and as you can all ready tell I run the stables. Shall I take that steed off your hands?"
"Yes, thank you," Sam answered. "Also, is it possible to obtain a new one? This one has been pretty much run down from our long ride."
The man nodded. "Why certainly, for a price of course. Nothing comes free in these parts. See the owner of the inn, Brandel Loomis, and perhaps you can work out a good deal with him. He should be near the bar. Mind your steps though. There's some rough looking men in there and though we normally don't like their type we couldn't turn them away. You see, we're the only inn for miles and the extra money could be used. You should be pleased though. There are some other hobbits roaming around inside."
"Thank you," Sam said. "Come, let us go inside Merry. You look like you could use a bite to eat. I know your ill and all but you've got to try at least or you'll never make it to Crickhollow in one place."
"Maybe a little," Merry replied, still groggy. "I don't want to overdo it, seeing as to how I reacted to the last amount I tried to consume."
"Are you feeling any better?" Sam asked.
"A bit but that will soon pass and I will go back to feeling rotten," Merry grumbled.
Entering the inn the two hobbits found themselves in the middle of a dining room. All tables were nearly filled with men and woman drinking ale and feasting. In the far corner stood smaller tables and seated around them was a small group of hobbits.
"Finally, a group we can associate ourselves with," Sam sighed. "Why don't you have a seat while I talk to the owner?"
"Very well," Merry said.
He walked passed the crowded tables noticing glares and murmurs from the men, especially several around the fireplace. Ignoring them, he approached the hobbit table and introduced himself. The others welcomed him, offered him a place to sit along with a cup of ale. After graciously refusing the drink he told them of his long journey to satiate their curiosity, only leaving out the attacks he had suffered. Once his tale was finished most went back to their previous engagements; all save one of the hobbits by the name of Milo Bulge who had once been a childhood friend.
"My, my I can't believe my eyes!" Milo exclaimed. "I never thought I would be seeing you again! How long it has been Merry."
"Yes, it has been long," Merry replied. "One day I was playing with you in the fields of Crickhollow and the next you plum disappeared on me. Where did you get off to?"
"Adventure my friend," Milo chuckled. "I couldn't stand staying in The Shire any longer. Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful place to live but the life that was being handed down to me didn't appeal to my tastes. My father, bless his departed soul, wanted me to be a farmer and I had no interest in it. Also there were other family issues that involved me, such as marrying a certain Penelope Hardgirtle that I just wasn't ready for. So, one day I just packed up my things and left to journey to the forests near Nenuial. I had a cousin, just about as crazy as I am, who lived there at the time who took me in. For years I stayed there until I felt the urge to take off again, that and I heard my father was searching for me. I've done a lot of traveling and been as far as The Blue Mountains. Though, I always return to The Shire. I could never permanently leave it. Enough about me though, it's obvious you've done far more then I ever will."
"Yes, and a lot you wouldn't want to do," Merry muttered. "I've been gone far too long and it feels good to run into old acquaintances."
Milo frowned. "You sound depressed, as if this will be our last meeting. I know I'll be off once more but as I said, I'll be returning to The Shire. We'll meet again."
"Yes," Merry said. "Now, where is Sam? He's been gone for some time now."
"Oh dear, is that him over there?" Milo pointed.
Merry turned and his cheeks flushed. The hobbit was trying to make his way through the crowd but several of the men were hassling him. Sam turned, said a few words, and broke free from the man holding him. The hobbit stormed over to the table and stood next to Merry's chair.
"Well, I managed to work out a deal with the owner," Sam said. "He'll give us a new pony if we give him our old one and about twenty gold coins. It's a good enough deal I guess, figuring how our pony is worn out and we'll be receiving a fresh one."
Merry looked back at the men. "What was that about?"
Sam growled. "Nothing much. Just drunk men that don't know what they're doing."
Milo laughed. "I hear you. Men seem to have a hard time keeping their paws off of us."
"Whatever is the matter with them?" Sam snarled.
"Why, they must be so overwhelmed with our natural good looks that they can't help themselves," Milo snickered. "Ah, if only I could get the lasses to claw at me the way some of the men around here do. I can't rightly explain their behavior; I suppose some are just deranged. Don't judge them all the same though. There are a lot of good men out there and it seems the bad ones ruin their reputation. But, as you were saying, some knock back too much ale and grab anything in sight, especially when they can't get the women. A lot of them travel around and obviously don't get that extra attention if you get my drift. That's why you need be very cautious around here. The bad types have been coming in more frequently, which is why you don't see as many hobbits around here. I hate admitting it but in a sense we are easy targets. We're small, don't pack much of a fight compared to full grown men, and can be easily subdued."
"Anyway, I think it is time for Merry and I to turn in," Sam said. "We've had a long journey."
"Why so soon?" a voice asked. The hobbits turned to view a man in the corner with ebony hair and clothes to match. The men around him were chuckling. "You, with the sandy curls, yes you the one that's standing; why don't you come over here? We'll make it worth staying up."
"Thank you for the invitation but I will pass," Sam sneered. "Come Merry, we better go."
Milo nodded. "We can catch up some other time friend. You look weary. I can tell you desperately need rest." He shook Merry's hand before standing up to place his lips near the other hobbit's ear. "Be careful. Those are the bad ones I was talking about. Watch your back and your friend's as well. If you need anything my room number is 19. You can also reach the owner in his room just behind the bar. He's a kind man. Goodnight then."
"Goodnight," Merry said, heading out the door behind Sam.
The room was small, housing only one bed but it was comfortable and Merry feel asleep quickly on the feather mattress next to Sam's form. He woke in the middle of the night, restless and unable to fall back asleep. Sam, however, was still sleeping and snoring loudly. Gently, he placed his feet on the wooden floor and began to rise from the bed. The nagging inner voice had returned, telling him to remain in bed, but being bold and stubborn as he was he dismissed it.
He placed his waistcoat back on and ventured out of the room, continuing down the steps until he reached the dining room. There, he stepped outside to breathe in the cool night air. The clouds had dissipated leaving the sky in plain view along with the dozens of twinkling stars. In the corner of his eye he saw a separate hut near the flowing stream, a bathhouse. Walking inside he found a lit oil lamp but otherwise empty. A portion of the floor had been cut away allowing the clear water to be in plain view. He locked the door, grabbed the basin, undressed, and attempted to cleanse his ragged body.
An hour had passed before he left the tiny shack feeling a little cleaner and refreshed. He made it as far as the inn door when form burst through it. It was Milo.
"Have you seen Sam?" Milo asked.
"What?" Merry asked, confused.
"A few minutes ago I saw that group of men that had been bothering him earlier carrying something into their room," Milo said. "Whatever it was, it was smaller then them and putting up one hell of a fight. For some reason or another the poor soul couldn't get a word out, must have been gagged. I didn't want to go and investigate since it was dangerous so instead I went to your room to see if everything was all right. The door was locked shut but no one answered."
Merry dashed past Milo and ran up the steps where he opened the room with his key. Indeed, the room was empty upon entry and there were no signs of a struggle. Milo was beside him a few moments later, gazing over the room. A hobbit had ventured from his room across from theirs, curious about the commotion.
"Are you looking for the other hobbit in that room?" he asked. "One with blondish-brown hair?"
"Yes, have you seen him?" Merry inquired.
"Yes, I saw him leave the room as I was returning to mine," he replied. "Asked me if I saw another hobbit by the name of Merry wandering around. When I said no he took off down the stairs. Seemed real worried the poor hobbit."
Merry pressed his back against the wall, sweat sliding down his face. "Oh no, Sam. Those men must have taken him." His cheeks turned crimson. "He was out looking for me and they took him." He remembered the earlier warning he was given and had ignored. Anger and hate rose in him, all directed at himself. He had put his friend in danger. "I must help him before any harm is done."
"You don't mean to fight them on your own do you?" Milo asked in shock. "Please, wait. We need to tell the owner about this."
"There's no time to waste," Merry said rummaging through the packs. "If we wait too long Sam will be hurt, believe me, I know. I won't allow him to suffer the same fate as I...." He became flustered. ".....I mean I....I just need to get to him that's all!"
Milo eyed him but nodded his head. "Fine. You there, go tell the owner about the situation. Tell him that we'll probably need other men to help out if they're willing. There are five men, maybe more that must be dealt with. Then, go inform the other hobbits in their rooms as well. We need all the help we can get."
"Right," the hobbit said, taking off down the stairs.
Merry found what he was looking for in the packs. "Do you know how to work a sword?"
Milo caught the one flung to him. "Of course. You don't travel in this dangerous world without learning a thing or two about self-defense."
"Take me to their room," Merry ordered.
As he walked along the hallway his mind was filled with doubt. The injuries he had endured in the weeks had left him dreadfully weak and he wondered if he could still put up a fight. He shook his head at the thoughts.
'Weak or not I don't have a choice,' Merry thought. 'Sam will not be taken if I have anything to do about it. I have to try, even if it does mean failure.' He gazed at the room before and griped his sword while Milo did the same next to him. He was prepared to fight, whether it would result in his death or not. 'Here I come Sam.'
More to follow.