Xena, Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I feel as if I can tackle another "Ferdi" chapter this morning, even though I don't want to... the chapter I'm writing in now is rather forlorn; I would much rather write joy, or at the very least, excitement... ah, well, that'll come.

Hai, O yes, that author's page, hadn't thought of that. I wonder if I could cut and paste my own private timeline into it. Much of what is currently going on in "Flames" runs concurrently with the early chapters of "Jewels". Of course, the Tooks would not have known about Merry's bouts with Shadow at Long Cleeve and Crickhollow, and probably not much about visits to Long Cleeve, so they are not mentioned in "Flames" though you may assume that everything in "Jewels" is still happening, in the background, out of sight of the characters at the Great Smials. I just hope I can write the intersecting points clearly enough that "Flames" can stand alone if need be. That author's page... Will have to check it out.

Pansy, the Muse thanks you. And, yes, Ferdi would have two hobbits to mind, if Merry needed minding. But he's already come "of age", so he's more likely to be a minder than need one. As it is, I'm afraid Merry's going to take over Ferdi's job and leave him at loose ends. So *now* what is a one-armed hobbit supposed to do with himself?

Dana, Lovely to hear from you again. Glad you're able to post reviews once more. I just love it when you "hit the highlights".

15. Nightscares

Merry returned to Brandy Hall for Yule, but Deputy Mayor Frodo turned up just before teatime on Last Day, to be warmly greeted by the Tooks, for all that he was half a Brandybuck. He'd given up the wild idea of living in Buckland and come back to settle down in civilised parts, not Tookland, but close, at Bag End in Hobbiton.

They forgave him his oddities and past errors in light of his sensible performance as Deputy Mayor, reducing the number of Shirriffs to the proper number, and otherwise keeping his nose out of other people's business.

'The next time you take it into your head to go off wandering,' Paladin said, slapping him on the back after he dismounted brown Strider, 'just leave our Pip at home, d'ye hear?'

Frodo laughed. 'I tried, this time, but he wasn't having any.'

The Thain snorted. 'He's a contrary one,' he agreed. 'Still, I have great hopes for the lad; he gave a good accounting of himself as we threw out the ruffians. I hope he was not a bother to you on your journey.'

Frodo shook his head, keeping a straight face with some difficulty. 'Only here and there,' he said, thinking of a certain stone dropped into a well, among other things. 'For the most part he acquitted himself well. Saved Merry's life at least once, and several others' lives along the way.'

'I have trouble believing that,' Paladin said quietly 'The lad has hardly a thought in his head, most times.'

'He's a very good head on his shoulders, indeed,' Frodo said, putting an arm about the Thain's shoulders to walk into the Smials with him. One who had faced Shelob had naught to fear from a mere Thain, after all. 'Don't you go selling him short. ...now, how about some of that ale the Smials is so famous for?'

Ferdi fully expected to give up his bed once again, but though Frodo had turned down offer of a room of his own in the well-appointed guest quarters, giving the excuse that he wanted to talk over old times with his cousin, he insisted, over Ferdi's protest, on sleeping upon the sofa just outside Pippin's room. It was hardly the place for an honoured guest to sleep, but Frodo prevailed.

When the nightly trouble started, Ferdi started up in his bed, only to see Frodo already sitting on the bed by Pippin, holding his young cousin's hand. Once he had soothed Pippin back to quiet sleep, he came to sit on Ferdi's bed.

'Does this happen each night?' he asked softly.

Ferdi nodded. 'Pretty much,' he said.

Frodo shook his head. 'I wonder...' he said. 'We weren't troubled by nightmares on the journey home, but then, we hobbits slept huddled together, rather like a heap of pups, for warmth, safety, and comfort.' He sighed. 'It still seems odd to me, to sleep in a bed, alone.'

'So are you suggesting that I get him a dog to sleep with?' Ferdi said. Frodo laughed quietly and shook his head. 'No,' he answered, 'but I think it's rather early to part him from Merry.' He looked again at his sleeping cousin. 'I know you're his minder, now, but for the past year he's had folk in plenty watching over him, the three of us Shirefolk, a wizard, an elf, a dwarf, and assorted Men.'

'Probably took that many,' Ferdi muttered, and Frodo chuckled.

'No doubt,' he said. 'But most especially, Merry minded him. He and Merry had some terrible experiences,' he did not mention his own, of course, 'and they saw each other through. Now that they're back, safe, they don't have to be on guard all the time against danger... it's when you let down your guard that the memories come back to worry you.'

Ferdi nodded. He'd had a bit of experience with that, as well.

'I would not have separated the two of them so quickly,' Frodo continued. 'A gradual weaning process might have been safer.'

'Safer?' Ferdi questioned the choice of word, but Frodo nodded soberly.

***

Merry's sleepwalking continued, not every night, but often enough that Saradoc quietly detailed Brandybuck cousins to keep nightly watch in the corridor outside his rooms. When he'd emerge from his door, the watcher would intercept him, guide him gently back to bed, and sit with him until he was once again peacefully asleep.

On the eve of Last Day, it was Berilac's turn to watch. He was sleepy from the festive Yuletide activities, and less than alert as he settled at his post. Nothing had happened the last few nights, anyhow, since Merry had returned from the Great Smials; perhaps he was settling in again, now that all the excitement of rousting the ruffians was well past.

Berilac found himself nodding, and rose to walk up and down the corridor a few times before seating himself again. There, he was awake now, he told himself. He didn't realise when reality became dream, sleep crept up on him so gradually, and since he dreamed he was sitting on watch in the corridor, he wasn't alarmed at his lack of alertness.

Suddenly, he jerked awake, and then he started to feel the first stirrings of unease. The doors along the corridor were all ajar. He peeked his head into Merry's room to find the bed empty.

Berilac worked his way along the corridor, not seeing a soul, and down into the main part of the Hall, still with no sign of Merry.

He came out the main entrance to the Hall and confronted the guard standing there. Even though no ruffians had been seen since mid-December, the Master had deemed it prudent to continue posting guards until he was sure they were gone.

'Toby,' Berilac said urgently. 'Did the young master come this way?'

'Why, yes, as a matter of fact, he did,' the other said equably. 'I thought he must be drunk. Muttered something about it being too dark to sleep. I asked if he wanted a breath of air, and he just brushed past me.'

'Which way did he go?' Berilac demanded.

'Down to the River, I think. It's right pretty this night.'

Berilac didn't answer, just took off at a run over the icy grass towards the River, gleaming like silver ribbon in the moonlight. As he got nearer, he could see mist curling up from the water into the freezing air.

'Merry!' he shouted, but there was no answer.

When he reached the water's edge, he strained his eyes, finally making out a dark shape in the River, a little further downstream. He ran along the bank, then splashed into the water. Merry was already waist-deep, and wading deeper, when his cousin reached him, and Berilac could feel the current tugging at them both.

'Merry!' he gasped. 'What do you think you're doing?'

Merry didn't answer, merely tried to pull his arm free, to keep walking.

Berilac then remembered something Pippin had said, and forcing a smile, he said as cheerfully as he could manage, 'Fine time you pick for a swim, cousin! Let us go in, now, my feet are freezing!' He forced a laugh, and to his relief, Merry turned to look at him.

'Berilac?' he said, puzzled. 'What are you doing here?'

Berilac maintained his cheerful tone, though his teeth were chattering. 'I was about to ask you the same thing.'

Merry pointed vaguely to the other bank. 'Don't you see him?' he said. 'He's there, waiting. He followed us to the Ferry, you know.'

'Who?' Berilac asked. He could see nothing but mist and shadow.

'He's calling me,' Merry said, and tried to pull away again.

'No, cousin,' Berilac said, desperately grasping at something to sway Merry from his course. A few more steps and the current would sweep them off their feet. 'No, he's turned away, see? He's decided it's too late for tonight. Perhaps he'll try again on the morrow.'

'Perhaps,' Merry said, and stopped pulling forward.

'Come, now,' Berilac encouraged. 'Help me out, my feet don't seem to be working very well.' In truth he couldn't feel his feet, or legs, either; they were numb with the chill of the icy water.

'You want some help?' Merry asked vaguely.

'Please,' Berilac said, shivering violently. He could hardly get the word out for the chattering of his teeth.

'Very well, cousin, let's get you back to the Hall,' Merry said, and turned back towards the bank. Together they waded out of the River, and Merry supported his staggering cousin back to the Hall, to the astonishment of Toby at the entrance.

'What happened?' the guard said. 'Did he fall in? And you had to go rescue him?'

'Something like that,' Berilac said. He guided Merry to his room, shucked off his cousin's freezing, dripping clothes, tucked him into his bed, and built up the fire in the bedroom hearth as large as he could manage. He warmed himself by Merry's fire for quite awhile before he was able to take himself off, tap on Doderic's door, ask him to take over the watch. Then, cold and exhausted, he fell into his own bed.

In the morning, Berilac did not come to breakfast, though the festive Last Day atmosphere throughout the Hall was enough to waken the dead from sleep.

'I believe he took a chill last night,' Saradoc said in reply to his son's query.

'How did he do that?'

'He took himself out for a breath of air,' Doderic said. 'Rumour is he'd had too much to drink.'

Merry shook his head. 'I thought he had more sense than that,' he frowned, stabbing a piece of fried bread. 'It must be freezing out there.'

'I believe you have the right of it, Son,' Saradoc said quietly, and applied himself to his own breakfast. He had sent a message off by quick post to Frodo, who was responsible, after all, for taking his son off in the first place. Perhaps Frodo would have an idea of how to bring him back again.