1. Bunny and Pony
"He's just had his breakfast so he shouldn't be hungry for at least an hour or two. But in case he wants something to eat, you can give him some applesauce, or a soft biscuit. Only one, mind you, or he might lose his appetite at elevenses," Mamma's voice could be heard behind the closed nursery door. "Are you sure you're up to this? Have you finished your chores in the stable?"
"Don't worry, Esmeralda," a strange voice replied cheerfully. "I've done it before first breakfast. Just ask the stable master."
"I will later," said Mamma with just the slightest hint of suspicion. "Oh, all right then." I could imagine Mamma's face breaking into a relieved smile. "Truth to tell, this sudden wedding puts all of us in a fix. There's none around to watch over Merry. We simply need all the lasses in the kitchen and the sewing room, working into the nights most days. We had planned a summer wedding for Hilda, but to wait for summer means we would have to make her dress rather liberally around the waist…"
She stopped suddenly.
"Well, if there is anything I can do," said the other voice, "I'd be more than happy to help. Only the ladies shooed me away from the kitchen after I dropped half a dozen eggs yesterday. I volunteered to help decorating, but every inch of the walls is already draped with hobbits, painting and buffing and festooning this and that…"
A laugh, a stranger's laugh, Mamma laughing with him. "Thanks, Frodo," said Mamma. "I love Merry to distraction, but at this moment, distraction is the last thing I need. He's a dear, sweet one, that lad, but requires constant watch. The last time I thought I could safely let him out of my sight for a moment…. Well, you know the incident in the duck pond…. He's in here now."
The door opened behind me and I heard Mamma's skirt rustling as she walked in. There was another behind her, another set of soft tread, lighter than Mamma's.
"Merry?" Mamma knelt beside me and scooped me up into her arms, burying her nose in my cheek, sniffing deeply. "What has Mamma's bunny been doing all morning?"
"Ponies," I said, pointing at my toys, scattered on the polished wooden floor.
"Oh, yes, ponies," she cooed, taking my hand and kissing it. "Speaking of ponies, Merry-love, this is cousin Frodo. He works with the ponies, you know."
I stared at you. You had crouched in front of us, smiling at me. My eyes were fixed on yours. They were the bluest I had ever seen; deep, swirling, sparkling blue. "Hello, Merry," you said, taking my hand. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Mamma is very busy today so cousin Frodo is going to play with you," said Mamma, and I looked up to see her eyes smiling down at me.
She turned to you. "Frodo?"
You were gazing at us, your eyes going slightly glassy. Then you seemed to stir out of it, and looked at Mamma. "Yes, Esmeralda?" your voice was soft, raw.
Mamma was quiet for a while, stroking my hair. Her breast heaved as she sighed. "I'm leaving you with Merry now," she said. "I'll be in the study, or the kitchen, or the main hall, if you need me."
"Yes, Esmeralda," you said, the empty stare fading and a smile dancing on your lips.
Mamma kissed the top of my head and put me down on the floor. "Be a good lad now, Merry-love," she whispered, then left with another swirl and rustle of her pale green dress.
You settled down beside me and we looked at each other.
"What're your ponies' names?" you asked.
I smiled and proudly showed you my lovely ponies. The black one was Thunder, because he scared the other ponies. The white one with the missing tail was Dandelion, because that was what he liked to eat. The brown one with only three legs was Rocky, because he was strong and brave.
"Do you have ponies too, cousin Frodo?"
You shook your head, gold tinted russet hair fluttering around your face. "I take care of ponies, though. In the stable."
"Do they have names?"
"Yes, of course," you said. Then your eyes sparkled brighter. "Would you like to see them?"
"Can I?" I gasped ecstatically. "Oh, yes, yes!"
"Well, come then," you said. "I'll show you."
We left the nursery. I swaggered, no, trotted smugly, beside you, my hand in yours. We stopped to grab some apples and carrots from the bins outside the kitchen then we headed for the stable.
"Can you ride a pony, cousin Frodo?" I asked between mouthfuls of apple.
"Yes, of course, when they are not needed in the fields, or ridden out on errands, yes. It's a lot of fun, riding."
"Can you take me on a ride?" I said hopefully. I never rode before. It had always been the secure, albeit less exciting, coach ride for Mamma and me.
"Well, we'll see," you said, smiling at me. "When the ponies let you, that is."
"They have to let you before you can ride them?" I gaped.
"Well, yes. What do you expect?" you said quite seriously. "They are so much stronger than hobbits. If they don't like you, they can easily toss you off. You need their permission."
I looked at you in awe at this new revelation. "Is it hard? Getting their permission?"
"It depends," you said. "If you know how to talk to them, it will be easy."
My eyes could not possibly get any wider, but I tried anyway.
"And carrots help. Apples too."
I nodded solemnly, secretly glad I had only eaten one of the apples we filched from the kitchen bins.
We came to the stable. It was rather empty. Most of the ponies were out, riding or working in the fields. But you carried me to a stall at the end of the stable. A lovely cinnamon-colored pony craned its neck and whinnied softly when it saw you.
"This is Daffodil," you said in a half-whisper. "Say hello to her."
"Hello," I said timidly.
You chuckled softly. "With your hand too. Like this." And you ran your hand along the pony's neck. "Touch her nose. Yes, like that. Good. Hello, Daffodil. This is young Merry."
She snorted softly and I jumped in your arms. You chuckled gently. "Pleased to meet you, young Merry, she said. What do you say to that?"
"How…how do you do?" I said, not taking my eyes off the mare's rich brown ones.
"Say it with the apple," you whispered, and I quickly fished out one from my pocket, polishing it briefly on my shirt and offered it to Daffodil. She sniffed eagerly and bit into it. A cracking sound as her teeth set into the apple, and my little hand was suddenly full of a pony's tongue and lip and teeth.
I gawked at you, an exhilarating fear creeping up my spine. It was terrifying to feel the pony's strength and her enormous size---at not quite four summers old, everything was enormous---but it was also breathtaking to feel the trust and bond that an apple could create. And your arms were around me. Somehow I felt…safe.
I loved you, Frodo Baggins, from that moment on.