Remarks -
QTPie 2488 - Little Merry is a firebrand, isn't he? He'd jump in to help Frodo any time, danger or no. There's more Merry and Frodo to come!
Aratlithiel - Bargo and Reginard do indeed need a good whacking!
Aelfgifu - Merry is definitely a bit friendlier in this fic than he is in RATM! Poor chap is developing multiple personalities, it seems. As to the names of the other hobbits, I don't know where Bargo came from. There is a Reginard Took in Pip's family tree, but this isn't him. I just liked the name!
Iorhael - I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I know you're busy with your new fic, so read at your leisure!
Endymion - Merry and Frodo are adorable, and Bargo and Reginard are disgusting! You described them to perfection. And now, Merry and Frodo return!
Camellia Gamgee - Took - Looks like you're in agreement with a lot of people when it comes to Merry and Frodo interacting. It's so fun to write scenes for those two!
FrodoBaggins1982 - In this part of the story Frodo is about 14 years old. The memory of his parents' passing is still rather fresh, so what Bargo and Reginard did to him was really pretty nasty.
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Chapter 3 - Swimming Lessons
"It's not much farther, Frodo," Merry said as he led the way to the quiet spot he had mentioned to his cousin the day before. They had been walking for a good while and were well away from Brandy Hall and the eyes of its inhabitants.
Frodo found himself wishing their destination were miles away rather than looming nearer. The longer he could avoid the act of voluntarily stepping into those swirling waters, the better he would feel. He couldn't help feeling that he was making a big mistake doing this. Perhaps Merry could teach him to swim, but if something went awry, Merry didn't seem big enough to pull Frodo bodily from the water. As he followed behind his younger cousin, Frodo tried to push that thought from his mind.
Was he just embarrassed to be under the tutelage of someone younger, who he had thought to protect and mentor himself? He tried to tell himself it wasn't so. The last thing he wanted was for Merry to stumble across him lying washed up on the riverbank, sodden and lifeless, all because he was too proud to be taught to swim by a younger lad.
As they rounded a bend in the path, Merry led Frodo down the gentle slope of the riverbank and through more trees and bushes. When they stopped, Frodo looked up and gave a little gasp. The spot where Merry had led him was beautiful. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above to strike the calm waters of a pool in the river, cut off from the main current by a sand bar. The water was so clear that Frodo could see the smooth rocks at the bottom of the pool, and he could tell it wasn't deep.
As if reading Frodo's thoughts, Merry spoke, pointing at the water. "See, Frodo? It's only deep enough to come up to your nose if you stand flat - footed. It will be deeper for me because I'm not as tall as you, but I can swim so I don't mind."
Frodo sighed as he placed the items he was carrying in the shade of a nearby tree. "You realize, I'm only doing this because you want me to," he said as he began to unpack towels from his knapsack.
Merry plopped down beside him and started digging in his own pack. "I don't care why you're doing it, I'm just glad that you are." He brought out a flask of water and took a sip, then handed it to Frodo. "I brought something to eat for later, since we'll probably be here most of the day," he continued.
"Do you think it will take that long?" Frodo said with some trepidation. He didn't want to spend any more time in the water than was absolutely necessary.
"Well once you get the basics down, you'll need to practice," Merry said patiently. "If I get my way, you and I will be coming here almost every day for a while."
"Meriadoc the Merciless has spoken," Frodo teased, summoning a smile despite his growing nervousness. "Go easy on me, Mer. You know how I feel about this," Frodo said as he unsnapped his braces and pulled his shirt over his head without bothering to finish undoing the buttons.
Merry had nearly finished undressing already. He felt no embarrassment at his nakedness, for there was nobody around to watch, and the day was growing hot already. The water would feel good to him, and he hoped he could get Frodo to enjoy it too.
"The first thing you should learn is how to float," Merry explained as they stood at the edge of the water. Frodo didn't seem like he had heard a word Merry said. He was staring down into the water, silent and unmoving. "Frodo?" Merry poked his cousin to break the spell.
Frodo jumped and looked at Merry apologetically. "Sorry, Mer. I was just - just thinking." He looked at the water again, a sad look crossing his face. "I can't help it. Every time I get near anything larger than a small stream - "
"You'll be fine, Frodo. Trust me." Merry grabbed Frodo's hand and held on tight. "Just step in slowly with me, just up to your ankles for now." They waded in, hand in hand, Merry watching Frodo's face intently. Frodo's eyes were closed and his jaw was set in a firm line of determination. The water was cool, but not uncomfortably so. Frodo took a deep breath as it flowed over his feet and around his ankles.
"Deeper now, just stay with me," Merry coaxed. He waded in further, letting the water come up to his waist. Frodo, being taller, was now up to his hips in the pool, and stepping carefully over the slippery rocks below. He looked down at the water and back at Merry again, a hint of fear rising in his heart.
"Stay there for a moment and watch," Merry instructed. "I'm going to go in deeper, up to my chest. When I get there, I'm going to take a deep breath, lift my feet up and float on my back." Merry proceeded to do just as he had stated, wading in until he was chest deep in the clear water. He filled his lungs and lay back, floating on the surface, relaxed and calm.
Frodo watched, somewhat amazed. Merry was floating effortlessly in the pool, bobbing on the surface as if he weighed no more than a feather. He wasn't sinking like a stone or kicking and splashing as if in the grip of some malevolent force that was trying to take him down.
"Come on, Frodo!" Merry urged him. "It's easy. You'll see." Merry got his feet under him again, and stood facing his cousin. "Just keep walking until you're in a bit deeper."
Frodo gritted his teeth as he followed Merry's instructions, stepping carefully and wading deeper into the water's embrace. The only thing that kept panic from overwhelming him as the water reached his chest was the fact that he could still feel the bottom beneath his feet, firm and unyielding.
Merry's eyes locked with Frodo's as he moved deeper to stand beside his taller cousin. Now up to his chin in the cool water, Merry took both of Frodo's hands and addressed him calmly. "Just fill your lungs with air, Frodo. The air will make you float." Frodo did as he was told. "Now lift your feet up and let the water carry you," Merry said, gripping Frodo's hands tightly in his. "I won't let go, and if you're scared, just put your feet down again. Trust me, Frodo."
Through his fear, Frodo held on to his cousin's words and hands. Not quite feeling bold enough to lie back in the water as Merry had, Frodo remained upright as he lifted both feet a few inches off the bottom. His eyes grew wide in panic as he sank a little, but he held the breath he had taken a moment before. He sank no more than a couple of inches before he felt himself starting to float ever so slightly.
"Oh!" He exclaimed in surprise, reflexively putting his feet back down against the smooth rocks of the bottom. The sensation of floating was new and strange. He tried it again, waiting longer before putting his feet down this time. To his surprise, the water wasn't sucking him down greedily, but seemed to be holding him up instead.
"It's easier here, where there's no current to deal with," Merry explained. "That's why we're starting here. Once you're actually swimming well in calm waters, we can move on to the river." Seeing Frodo flinch, he added quickly, "Don't think about it now, just concentrate on this."
Frodo nodded. Taking another breath and still holding onto Merry's hands, he tried lying back in the water this time. A feeling of elation flooded through him as he realized it was working. He was floating! He wasn't going straight to the bottom like Bargo and Reginard said he would.
"Great, Frodo! You're doing just fine," Merry said with a grin, pleased at his cousin's progress. After a bit more practice at floating, Merry had Frodo change to floating on his stomach.
"You'll have to get used to getting your face wet," he explained. "Watch me," he said and repeated the floating procedure, this time on his stomach with his face in the water. After a moment, he stood on the bottom again and wiped the water from his eyes. "What you need to practice with this is remembering that while your face is in the water, you can exhale, but you just can't inhale." Merry demonstrated again, and bubbles rose around him as he slowly let out the breath he'd been holding.
Frodo tried the exercise reluctantly, not getting his face all the way into the water at first. The idea of putting his nose under was foreign to him and he fought it instinctively. Merry urged him on with patient words, and eventually, he managed to keep his face in the water for a moment or two without panicking.
"Swimming is just like floating, only you use your arms and legs to make yourself move through the water," Merry explained. He demonstrated a few simple strokes pulling himself along just under the surface of the water from one side of the pool to the other as Frodo watched. Merry swam back to Frodo's side again. "Now you try it with me. Just do what I do."
As Merry extended his right arm, Frodo did the same. He drew it back through the water as he brought his left forward in repetition of the motion. He found himself moving through the water now, instead of just being carried by it. He managed just a few strokes before putting his feet down on the bottom again.
"You're learning fast, Frodo," Merry praised him. "Now try doing that and kicking your feet at the same time. You'll go farther and faster." Merry showed him, and Frodo did his best to follow, a little clumsily at first, but with more confidence as he kept at it.
By the time they stopped to eat, Frodo was actually doing something close to swimming in the calm little pool. He could make it across the pond and back without stopping to put his feet down. He grinned at Merry as the sun dried the water from his skin and hair.
"I can't believe it, Merry! I never thought I could learn to swim, as scared as I was. You're a good teacher." He ruffled Merry's curls affectionately.
"You're a good student," Merry beamed back at him. "Now you have to practice whenever you have a chance. You have to get strong and sure with it before you try it against the river currents, and they can be tricky." Merry knew what he was talking about. The first time he had gone for a swim in the Brandywine he had been astounded by the strength of the eddies and swirls and the fierceness of the undertow. In water like that, one had to keep his wits about him. He knew he wasn't big enough or strong enough yet to swim where the currents were fastest, and he kept to the slower moving parts of the river.
After luncheon and a brief nap in the sun, Merry and Frodo returned to the water. Merry finished his teachings for the day by showing Frodo how to glide along completely underwater like a fish, skimming the bottom and rising to the top for air when needed. The more comfortable Frodo was in the water, the faster his skills would improve, and Merry tried to make sure the lesson was fun as well as useful.
To his surprise and relief, Frodo found that he had indeed had fun learning the basic skills Merry taught him. The cool water had felt nice in the heat of the summer day, and it didn't feel like the terrible enemy he had thought it to be. The river itself still seemed a frightening thought, but this calm little pool held nothing that seemed a danger to him anymore.
After that day, Merry and Frodo went frequently to the secluded spot to swim, and soon Frodo was moving confidently and gracefully through the water with strong, sure strokes. He knew that soon Merry would want him to try the river itself, but not where the current was swiftest. Even so, Merry wasn't rushing him. Frodo was learning at his own pace and would find himself ready for the next challenge soon enough.
For now it was enough for Frodo to feel the water parting for him as he swam and the sun warming his back and shoulders. It was enough to fill the afternoon with splashes and laughter, and to walk back to the Hall afterward, hair dripping and sand sticking to his feet.
~*~
Frodo wasn't expecting the assault when it came. Things had been quiet for some weeks now, and in his eagerness to continue working on his swimming skills with Merry, he had all but forgotten Bargo and Reginard.
They had not forgotten Frodo, however, and seemingly out of nowhere they appeared to block the path in front of him. Upon seeing them a few paces ahead, Frodo stopped in his tracks.
"Where have you been, runt?" Bargo taunted him. "Haven't seen you around much. Been hiding, I suppose." The older lad aimed a swing at him, cuffing him lightly on the side of his head.
Frodo glared at him. "Hiding or no, at least I haven't had to look at your face," he shot back.
"Smart mouth you've got, little rat," Reginard said, crossing his arms in front of him. "I'd be a little more careful, if I were you."
"Or what?" Frodo said resignedly. "You'll pound on me some more? Don't you have anything better to do?"
As Frodo tried to step around them and continue on his way, Bargo moved swiftly to grab him. "No, we don't have anything better to do," Reginard said, grinning nastily. "Nothing that's as fun anyway."
Frodo stomped on Bargo's foot, causing him to let go for an instant. He rushed forward, catching Reginard in the chin with his fist as he made a run for it. He managed to slip past the older boy and put a few paces between them before Reginard tackled him from behind.
Frodo went down in a heap with his arm twisted behind him and menacing words in his ear. "That'll cost you, you skinny little twit," Reginard hissed. He turned to Bargo and said, "hold onto him."
Bargo grabbed Frodo and pulled him upright, keeping his arm behind him in a tight, painful grip. As Frodo struggled to free himself, Reginard hit him hard in the midsection. Frodo doubled over, coughing.
"That'll teach you swing at me, little rat!" Each of the boys grabbed one of Frodo's arms and dragged him down the path toward the river. "It's time you learned who's boss around here, and we're gonna show you right now," Reginard said as he yanked on Frodo's arm.
The river! They were heading for the river, just as they had several weeks back. He'd been swimming often in the still waters of the pond, but he had yet to test himself against the currents of the Brandywine. As he was dragged through the underbrush Frodo prayed someone would be nearby and hear the commotion. They reached the sandy bank without anyone else emerging, however, and Frodo's heart sank as he watched the swift current flowing past.
Holding Frodo's arms, Bargo kicked his feet out from under him and Reginard grabbed them. Carrying Frodo's writhing form between them, the two lads stepped up to the edge of the bank.
"The Brandybrat isn't here swingin' branches this time, Frodo." Bargo sneered down at the frightened hobbit.
"No! Please don't!" Frodo pleaded. "I don't care if you thrash me, but - "
"We'll thrash you some other time, Frodo, bet on it." Reginard promised. "If you come out of the water again, that is." He looked over at Bargo and nodded. Frodo closed his eyes and waited in terror as the two bigger lads began to swing him between them, preparing to heave him into the rushing waters.
Back and forth, to and fro they swung him, and released him into the air at the crest of the third and last swing. In midair, Frodo drew as much air into his lungs as he could and waited for the current to take him. He hit with a heavy splash, and water flew up around him. His heart thudded noisily in his chest, as he seemed to sink forever, his foot brushing the silt of the river bottom.
He surged upward, pulling with his arms and kicking with all his might, surfacing a short distance away to the sound of rushing water and harsh laughter. He caught another deep breath just before the current tugged him under again and carried him further downstream. He broke free of the undertow with difficulty, rising to the surface coughing and spluttering.
Was it like this when the river had taken his parents? Did it seem a thing alive and willful, clutching at them greedily and pulling them down? By now the terror that had risen in him was threatening to block out all rational thought.
~Remember! Remember what you've learned!~ Frodo thought desperately. Striving to calm himself, he stopped struggling against the water and started to move with it. He pulled with long strokes and kicked hard as he made for the riverbank.
It took some time before he was able to get close enough to the bank to catch hold of a low hanging tree branch. The branch held against the current and his weight, and he used it to pull himself from the river and onto the dry sand at its edge.
No longer in any danger of drowning, Frodo lay on his stomach on the riverbank, his chest heaving and his heart thundering in his ears. He could hear voices and the sound of running feet approaching as Bargo and Reginard drew near. ~Coming to see if they've killed me,~ Frodo thought dimly.
"There's the drowned rat now," Bargo called. "Hey, Frodo! Did you swim or did the river spit you out?" Frodo was nearly ill at the sight of the immensely pleased smirk on Bargo's face.
"Take your best guess," Frodo said, fixing his gaze on Bargo's, emboldened by the knowledge that he could indeed swim. They could throw him in the river as much as they pleased, and he would swim safely away from them.
"Well what do you know," Reginard snorted as he joined Bargo. "He's a better swimmer than those parents of his."
The words stung him and Frodo could make no sharp retort. Fortunately his tormentors felt they had done enough damage for one day and sauntered off laughing at their own brilliant wits.
Frodo shivered on the bank, exhausted and dripping, chilled by more than the cold water seeping from his clothing. He dragged himself into a slightly more open area where the sun broke through the trees and shone warmly on the ground. Spent from exertion and tears, he eventually succumbed to sleep as the sun dried the evidence of his ordeal.
~*~To be continued~*~
QTPie 2488 - Little Merry is a firebrand, isn't he? He'd jump in to help Frodo any time, danger or no. There's more Merry and Frodo to come!
Aratlithiel - Bargo and Reginard do indeed need a good whacking!
Aelfgifu - Merry is definitely a bit friendlier in this fic than he is in RATM! Poor chap is developing multiple personalities, it seems. As to the names of the other hobbits, I don't know where Bargo came from. There is a Reginard Took in Pip's family tree, but this isn't him. I just liked the name!
Iorhael - I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I know you're busy with your new fic, so read at your leisure!
Endymion - Merry and Frodo are adorable, and Bargo and Reginard are disgusting! You described them to perfection. And now, Merry and Frodo return!
Camellia Gamgee - Took - Looks like you're in agreement with a lot of people when it comes to Merry and Frodo interacting. It's so fun to write scenes for those two!
FrodoBaggins1982 - In this part of the story Frodo is about 14 years old. The memory of his parents' passing is still rather fresh, so what Bargo and Reginard did to him was really pretty nasty.
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Chapter 3 - Swimming Lessons
"It's not much farther, Frodo," Merry said as he led the way to the quiet spot he had mentioned to his cousin the day before. They had been walking for a good while and were well away from Brandy Hall and the eyes of its inhabitants.
Frodo found himself wishing their destination were miles away rather than looming nearer. The longer he could avoid the act of voluntarily stepping into those swirling waters, the better he would feel. He couldn't help feeling that he was making a big mistake doing this. Perhaps Merry could teach him to swim, but if something went awry, Merry didn't seem big enough to pull Frodo bodily from the water. As he followed behind his younger cousin, Frodo tried to push that thought from his mind.
Was he just embarrassed to be under the tutelage of someone younger, who he had thought to protect and mentor himself? He tried to tell himself it wasn't so. The last thing he wanted was for Merry to stumble across him lying washed up on the riverbank, sodden and lifeless, all because he was too proud to be taught to swim by a younger lad.
As they rounded a bend in the path, Merry led Frodo down the gentle slope of the riverbank and through more trees and bushes. When they stopped, Frodo looked up and gave a little gasp. The spot where Merry had led him was beautiful. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above to strike the calm waters of a pool in the river, cut off from the main current by a sand bar. The water was so clear that Frodo could see the smooth rocks at the bottom of the pool, and he could tell it wasn't deep.
As if reading Frodo's thoughts, Merry spoke, pointing at the water. "See, Frodo? It's only deep enough to come up to your nose if you stand flat - footed. It will be deeper for me because I'm not as tall as you, but I can swim so I don't mind."
Frodo sighed as he placed the items he was carrying in the shade of a nearby tree. "You realize, I'm only doing this because you want me to," he said as he began to unpack towels from his knapsack.
Merry plopped down beside him and started digging in his own pack. "I don't care why you're doing it, I'm just glad that you are." He brought out a flask of water and took a sip, then handed it to Frodo. "I brought something to eat for later, since we'll probably be here most of the day," he continued.
"Do you think it will take that long?" Frodo said with some trepidation. He didn't want to spend any more time in the water than was absolutely necessary.
"Well once you get the basics down, you'll need to practice," Merry said patiently. "If I get my way, you and I will be coming here almost every day for a while."
"Meriadoc the Merciless has spoken," Frodo teased, summoning a smile despite his growing nervousness. "Go easy on me, Mer. You know how I feel about this," Frodo said as he unsnapped his braces and pulled his shirt over his head without bothering to finish undoing the buttons.
Merry had nearly finished undressing already. He felt no embarrassment at his nakedness, for there was nobody around to watch, and the day was growing hot already. The water would feel good to him, and he hoped he could get Frodo to enjoy it too.
"The first thing you should learn is how to float," Merry explained as they stood at the edge of the water. Frodo didn't seem like he had heard a word Merry said. He was staring down into the water, silent and unmoving. "Frodo?" Merry poked his cousin to break the spell.
Frodo jumped and looked at Merry apologetically. "Sorry, Mer. I was just - just thinking." He looked at the water again, a sad look crossing his face. "I can't help it. Every time I get near anything larger than a small stream - "
"You'll be fine, Frodo. Trust me." Merry grabbed Frodo's hand and held on tight. "Just step in slowly with me, just up to your ankles for now." They waded in, hand in hand, Merry watching Frodo's face intently. Frodo's eyes were closed and his jaw was set in a firm line of determination. The water was cool, but not uncomfortably so. Frodo took a deep breath as it flowed over his feet and around his ankles.
"Deeper now, just stay with me," Merry coaxed. He waded in further, letting the water come up to his waist. Frodo, being taller, was now up to his hips in the pool, and stepping carefully over the slippery rocks below. He looked down at the water and back at Merry again, a hint of fear rising in his heart.
"Stay there for a moment and watch," Merry instructed. "I'm going to go in deeper, up to my chest. When I get there, I'm going to take a deep breath, lift my feet up and float on my back." Merry proceeded to do just as he had stated, wading in until he was chest deep in the clear water. He filled his lungs and lay back, floating on the surface, relaxed and calm.
Frodo watched, somewhat amazed. Merry was floating effortlessly in the pool, bobbing on the surface as if he weighed no more than a feather. He wasn't sinking like a stone or kicking and splashing as if in the grip of some malevolent force that was trying to take him down.
"Come on, Frodo!" Merry urged him. "It's easy. You'll see." Merry got his feet under him again, and stood facing his cousin. "Just keep walking until you're in a bit deeper."
Frodo gritted his teeth as he followed Merry's instructions, stepping carefully and wading deeper into the water's embrace. The only thing that kept panic from overwhelming him as the water reached his chest was the fact that he could still feel the bottom beneath his feet, firm and unyielding.
Merry's eyes locked with Frodo's as he moved deeper to stand beside his taller cousin. Now up to his chin in the cool water, Merry took both of Frodo's hands and addressed him calmly. "Just fill your lungs with air, Frodo. The air will make you float." Frodo did as he was told. "Now lift your feet up and let the water carry you," Merry said, gripping Frodo's hands tightly in his. "I won't let go, and if you're scared, just put your feet down again. Trust me, Frodo."
Through his fear, Frodo held on to his cousin's words and hands. Not quite feeling bold enough to lie back in the water as Merry had, Frodo remained upright as he lifted both feet a few inches off the bottom. His eyes grew wide in panic as he sank a little, but he held the breath he had taken a moment before. He sank no more than a couple of inches before he felt himself starting to float ever so slightly.
"Oh!" He exclaimed in surprise, reflexively putting his feet back down against the smooth rocks of the bottom. The sensation of floating was new and strange. He tried it again, waiting longer before putting his feet down this time. To his surprise, the water wasn't sucking him down greedily, but seemed to be holding him up instead.
"It's easier here, where there's no current to deal with," Merry explained. "That's why we're starting here. Once you're actually swimming well in calm waters, we can move on to the river." Seeing Frodo flinch, he added quickly, "Don't think about it now, just concentrate on this."
Frodo nodded. Taking another breath and still holding onto Merry's hands, he tried lying back in the water this time. A feeling of elation flooded through him as he realized it was working. He was floating! He wasn't going straight to the bottom like Bargo and Reginard said he would.
"Great, Frodo! You're doing just fine," Merry said with a grin, pleased at his cousin's progress. After a bit more practice at floating, Merry had Frodo change to floating on his stomach.
"You'll have to get used to getting your face wet," he explained. "Watch me," he said and repeated the floating procedure, this time on his stomach with his face in the water. After a moment, he stood on the bottom again and wiped the water from his eyes. "What you need to practice with this is remembering that while your face is in the water, you can exhale, but you just can't inhale." Merry demonstrated again, and bubbles rose around him as he slowly let out the breath he'd been holding.
Frodo tried the exercise reluctantly, not getting his face all the way into the water at first. The idea of putting his nose under was foreign to him and he fought it instinctively. Merry urged him on with patient words, and eventually, he managed to keep his face in the water for a moment or two without panicking.
"Swimming is just like floating, only you use your arms and legs to make yourself move through the water," Merry explained. He demonstrated a few simple strokes pulling himself along just under the surface of the water from one side of the pool to the other as Frodo watched. Merry swam back to Frodo's side again. "Now you try it with me. Just do what I do."
As Merry extended his right arm, Frodo did the same. He drew it back through the water as he brought his left forward in repetition of the motion. He found himself moving through the water now, instead of just being carried by it. He managed just a few strokes before putting his feet down on the bottom again.
"You're learning fast, Frodo," Merry praised him. "Now try doing that and kicking your feet at the same time. You'll go farther and faster." Merry showed him, and Frodo did his best to follow, a little clumsily at first, but with more confidence as he kept at it.
By the time they stopped to eat, Frodo was actually doing something close to swimming in the calm little pool. He could make it across the pond and back without stopping to put his feet down. He grinned at Merry as the sun dried the water from his skin and hair.
"I can't believe it, Merry! I never thought I could learn to swim, as scared as I was. You're a good teacher." He ruffled Merry's curls affectionately.
"You're a good student," Merry beamed back at him. "Now you have to practice whenever you have a chance. You have to get strong and sure with it before you try it against the river currents, and they can be tricky." Merry knew what he was talking about. The first time he had gone for a swim in the Brandywine he had been astounded by the strength of the eddies and swirls and the fierceness of the undertow. In water like that, one had to keep his wits about him. He knew he wasn't big enough or strong enough yet to swim where the currents were fastest, and he kept to the slower moving parts of the river.
After luncheon and a brief nap in the sun, Merry and Frodo returned to the water. Merry finished his teachings for the day by showing Frodo how to glide along completely underwater like a fish, skimming the bottom and rising to the top for air when needed. The more comfortable Frodo was in the water, the faster his skills would improve, and Merry tried to make sure the lesson was fun as well as useful.
To his surprise and relief, Frodo found that he had indeed had fun learning the basic skills Merry taught him. The cool water had felt nice in the heat of the summer day, and it didn't feel like the terrible enemy he had thought it to be. The river itself still seemed a frightening thought, but this calm little pool held nothing that seemed a danger to him anymore.
After that day, Merry and Frodo went frequently to the secluded spot to swim, and soon Frodo was moving confidently and gracefully through the water with strong, sure strokes. He knew that soon Merry would want him to try the river itself, but not where the current was swiftest. Even so, Merry wasn't rushing him. Frodo was learning at his own pace and would find himself ready for the next challenge soon enough.
For now it was enough for Frodo to feel the water parting for him as he swam and the sun warming his back and shoulders. It was enough to fill the afternoon with splashes and laughter, and to walk back to the Hall afterward, hair dripping and sand sticking to his feet.
~*~
Frodo wasn't expecting the assault when it came. Things had been quiet for some weeks now, and in his eagerness to continue working on his swimming skills with Merry, he had all but forgotten Bargo and Reginard.
They had not forgotten Frodo, however, and seemingly out of nowhere they appeared to block the path in front of him. Upon seeing them a few paces ahead, Frodo stopped in his tracks.
"Where have you been, runt?" Bargo taunted him. "Haven't seen you around much. Been hiding, I suppose." The older lad aimed a swing at him, cuffing him lightly on the side of his head.
Frodo glared at him. "Hiding or no, at least I haven't had to look at your face," he shot back.
"Smart mouth you've got, little rat," Reginard said, crossing his arms in front of him. "I'd be a little more careful, if I were you."
"Or what?" Frodo said resignedly. "You'll pound on me some more? Don't you have anything better to do?"
As Frodo tried to step around them and continue on his way, Bargo moved swiftly to grab him. "No, we don't have anything better to do," Reginard said, grinning nastily. "Nothing that's as fun anyway."
Frodo stomped on Bargo's foot, causing him to let go for an instant. He rushed forward, catching Reginard in the chin with his fist as he made a run for it. He managed to slip past the older boy and put a few paces between them before Reginard tackled him from behind.
Frodo went down in a heap with his arm twisted behind him and menacing words in his ear. "That'll cost you, you skinny little twit," Reginard hissed. He turned to Bargo and said, "hold onto him."
Bargo grabbed Frodo and pulled him upright, keeping his arm behind him in a tight, painful grip. As Frodo struggled to free himself, Reginard hit him hard in the midsection. Frodo doubled over, coughing.
"That'll teach you swing at me, little rat!" Each of the boys grabbed one of Frodo's arms and dragged him down the path toward the river. "It's time you learned who's boss around here, and we're gonna show you right now," Reginard said as he yanked on Frodo's arm.
The river! They were heading for the river, just as they had several weeks back. He'd been swimming often in the still waters of the pond, but he had yet to test himself against the currents of the Brandywine. As he was dragged through the underbrush Frodo prayed someone would be nearby and hear the commotion. They reached the sandy bank without anyone else emerging, however, and Frodo's heart sank as he watched the swift current flowing past.
Holding Frodo's arms, Bargo kicked his feet out from under him and Reginard grabbed them. Carrying Frodo's writhing form between them, the two lads stepped up to the edge of the bank.
"The Brandybrat isn't here swingin' branches this time, Frodo." Bargo sneered down at the frightened hobbit.
"No! Please don't!" Frodo pleaded. "I don't care if you thrash me, but - "
"We'll thrash you some other time, Frodo, bet on it." Reginard promised. "If you come out of the water again, that is." He looked over at Bargo and nodded. Frodo closed his eyes and waited in terror as the two bigger lads began to swing him between them, preparing to heave him into the rushing waters.
Back and forth, to and fro they swung him, and released him into the air at the crest of the third and last swing. In midair, Frodo drew as much air into his lungs as he could and waited for the current to take him. He hit with a heavy splash, and water flew up around him. His heart thudded noisily in his chest, as he seemed to sink forever, his foot brushing the silt of the river bottom.
He surged upward, pulling with his arms and kicking with all his might, surfacing a short distance away to the sound of rushing water and harsh laughter. He caught another deep breath just before the current tugged him under again and carried him further downstream. He broke free of the undertow with difficulty, rising to the surface coughing and spluttering.
Was it like this when the river had taken his parents? Did it seem a thing alive and willful, clutching at them greedily and pulling them down? By now the terror that had risen in him was threatening to block out all rational thought.
~Remember! Remember what you've learned!~ Frodo thought desperately. Striving to calm himself, he stopped struggling against the water and started to move with it. He pulled with long strokes and kicked hard as he made for the riverbank.
It took some time before he was able to get close enough to the bank to catch hold of a low hanging tree branch. The branch held against the current and his weight, and he used it to pull himself from the river and onto the dry sand at its edge.
No longer in any danger of drowning, Frodo lay on his stomach on the riverbank, his chest heaving and his heart thundering in his ears. He could hear voices and the sound of running feet approaching as Bargo and Reginard drew near. ~Coming to see if they've killed me,~ Frodo thought dimly.
"There's the drowned rat now," Bargo called. "Hey, Frodo! Did you swim or did the river spit you out?" Frodo was nearly ill at the sight of the immensely pleased smirk on Bargo's face.
"Take your best guess," Frodo said, fixing his gaze on Bargo's, emboldened by the knowledge that he could indeed swim. They could throw him in the river as much as they pleased, and he would swim safely away from them.
"Well what do you know," Reginard snorted as he joined Bargo. "He's a better swimmer than those parents of his."
The words stung him and Frodo could make no sharp retort. Fortunately his tormentors felt they had done enough damage for one day and sauntered off laughing at their own brilliant wits.
Frodo shivered on the bank, exhausted and dripping, chilled by more than the cold water seeping from his clothing. He dragged himself into a slightly more open area where the sun broke through the trees and shone warmly on the ground. Spent from exertion and tears, he eventually succumbed to sleep as the sun dried the evidence of his ordeal.
~*~To be continued~*~