Merry woke up the next morning achy and stiff. He had refused to sleep in the same room with Pippin, and so his mother finally gave up and told him he could sleep on the couch. Merry had only found a single pillow, and two thin blankets to keep him warm. It had been a horrible night, filled with horrible dreams. He awoke cold and sweaty, with the sun streaming in his face. Merry winced. The light hurt his eyes. He opened them and nearly screamed. Pippin was standing beside the couch, watching him.
"You've missed first AND second breakfast. Your mama says to wake you up. It's time for elevensies." Pippin informed him. Merry sat up, and pushed Pippin out of the way. "Move!" he snapped at the younger Hobbit. Merry quickly got dressed, and stormed out of the room. Pippin hurried after him, eyes wide, but kept inconspicuous with an unreadable look.
Elevensies was a silent meal that day. Merry and his parents, usually brimming with conversation, were silent. Both Saradoc and Esmerelda kept looking from their son to their nephew. Merry was glaring at Pippin through spoonfuls of porridge. Pippin was staring at Merry, blinking twice at random intervals. This behaviour alarmed Saradoc, who took a stab at conversation.
"Merry, I forgot to tell you. Frodo and Bilbo are going to drop by this afternoon for tea and dinner." This was, apparently, the correct thing to say.
"Today? You're sure, Papa?" Merry let out an excited whoop. To Merry, Bilbo was the best Hobbit in the world, and Frodo was the second best. Merry's favourite times were when Bilbo and Frodo came by. Bilbo would tell Merry one of his stories, and after that, Merry and Frodo would spend time with one another, laughing and telling jokes.
Merry was just dreaming about what he and Frodo could do, when Pippin suddenly spoke.
"Who's Bilbo and Frodo?" He asked. Merry's dreams were dashed, then. Pippin was going to ruin everything, Merry was absolutely sure of it. Before he could protest, his mother spoke up.
"They're our cousins, Pippin. Bilbo, he's your father's and my second cousin, and your third and would be Merry's third, too. Frodo would be your second cousin, yes." Esmerelda said. When she drew a breath, Merry started up quickly.
"Bilbo? You don't know Bilbo? You should know him. Frodo, too. EVERYONE knows Bilbo. He went off on a great adventure once, and everyone says he came back with all sorts of riches, but HE told me that he hasn't any, or not that he's telling about. He's the best Hobbit there is, and he--" Merry stopped. Pippin was watching him intently, transfixed by every word, and Merry didn't want to give Pippin the opportunity to think that he would be around with him and Frodo. He defiantly didn't want Pippin around to mess things up.
"But anyway, you better not follow us, though, Peregrin. You hafta stay here, at Brandy Hall. Me and Frodo are going to go off and--"
"Merry!"
"What, Mum?"
"Don't you 'What' me, Meriadoc. First off, don't you go feeding him lies about Bilbo's treasure. Bilbo tells us that there isn't any, and no one should bother looking. And second of all, you let Pippin come with you. He's company. And he's never meet Frodo, so you take him with you."
"Oh, Mum! He's going to ruin something, I know. Let him stay here. He can have Bilbo tell him stories."
Pippin broke in. "Oh, Auntie Esme, I don't mind staying for stories."
"Well, darling, since Merry wants to be stubborn about it, you can stay and have stories with Bilbo."
At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Merry bolted from his chair and opened it, without even bothering to ask who it was. As though he needed to. Bilbo and Frodo stood on the threshhold, and Merry nearly slammed into them with an enormous hug.
"HI!! Bilbo, Frodo, come in! We're just finished with luncheon, I hope you've had it, though, because we've got to get a good start, Frodo. Bilbo, you could stay for luncheon, we've still got some food left, but, oh! Frodo, come on, we have to go!" Merry said, in one enourmous breath. Frodo clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, and Merry moved over to let them in. Bilbo went over to the table and greeted Saradoc and Esme. Merry and Frodo followed for the moment. Just then, Bilbo noticed Pippin, turned around in his chair, watching him.
"Who's this?" Bilbo asked. "Esme, you haven't had another youngling that you've neglected to tell us about! We've only been away for a month!"
"Oh, my goodness, no! This is my nephew, Peregrin Took, or rather Pippin. He's staying with us for three weeks. His family's up at Michel Delving for something, I can't remember what, but Pippin was too small to go, so we asked if we could keep him with us." She got up and leaned towards Bilbo. "Merry's not too happy about that." At that, Bilbo had a hearty laugh.
"Well, here's another I can tell my stories to! Let me get some food in me, and then we can be off, eh, Pippin?"
"Mum! Papa, we're going now!" Merry called as he and Frodo started out for the door.
"Yes, darling. Be back before dinner!"
The door slammed so hard, it didn't close. And no one noticed. Except for Pippin. He got up to close it, and then peered outside. He DID want to hear stories, but he admired Merry, even if he didn't show it. And he wanted to know where his cousins were going. So he quietly slipped outside and followed the laughing voices of Merry and Frodo, hiding behind trees if he needed to. This was going to be fun.