Quick, quick update!

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Merry was the first to wake the next morning. He sat up in his bed and looked out the window. It was just before daybreak, and not even Sam would not get up until the sun rose. The horizon was tinted with orange that lined the waning night sky. Birds had begun their songs, taking over for the evening's crickets. Taking his attention off of the lovely conditions outdoors, Merry noticed the condition of his stomach. Not being one to wait patiently for his morning meal, he got out of bed and quietly exited the guestroom, aiming to find Sam and wake him up.

            "Sa-am?" he whispered in a singsong tone. "I'm hung-gree…"

            Merry tiptoed into the living room and spotted Sam on the couch. He was completely hidden under the quilt, a large lump huddled to one side of the couch. Merry stepped up to Sam and poked him.

            "Hey, Sam…" he stated, giving Sam another nudge. "Wake up." He poked a few more times. Then, the lump under the quilt stirred and mumbled grumpily under its breath.

            "Excuse me?" Merry asked, shocked. "What was that you just said to me?"

            "Mmmmm…" Sam groaned, sounding less than cheerful. "…Go 'way…"

            "Now, now," Merry chided. "Is that how you treat a guest of your master…? And, his cousin, nonetheless? I presume you just let them starve and waste away into nothing. Not very polite, if you ask me." He continued prodding Sam, but Sam was a very adamant lump.

            "Well… I didn't ask you, did I…?" Sam tetchily replied from under the covers. Merry let out an annoyed growl.

            "Oh, come now!" He made a very wide grin and leaned in close over Sam. "If you don't get up," he said in a sarcastic, childish tone. "I'll go tell Fwodo that you're being aww gwumpy and mean to me because you were up cwying wast night."

            "What?!" Sam yelped piercingly, his sandy-colored head suddenly popping out from under the quilt, revealing his now scarlet face.

            Merry grinned crookedly. "I heard you." He let out a sarcastic sigh. "Yes… Bawling like a lass, you were. I'd sure hate to know why, though." He placed his chin in his hand. "Maybe Frodo might know…"

            "Oh, no you don't!" Sam growled threateningly, his face reddening even further. He quickly shot up out of the covers and loomed tall over Merry.

            Merry raised an eyebrow as he looked up at Sam, far from intimidated. "Is that so? Then why, may I ask, shouldn't I?"

            Sam's serious expression instantly turned blank. Wordlessly moving his mouth, he couldn't get anything out. "I… I…"

            Merry smiled amusedly. "Can't come up with an answer, eh?" He paused. "You know what? I'll cut you a little deal. If you make me breakfast right now, I'll forget all about your tearful lamentation."

            Sam glared piercingly at Merry. "Why, you… you…"

            "So, is it a deal, then?" Merry cut in. Sam glowered at him even harder. "I'll take that as a yes."

            "You are cruel an' heartless, Meriadoc Brandybuck," Sam muttered darkly, jutting a finger into Merry's chest as he leaned in close to him. "Cruel an' heartless."

            "And hungry, too," Merry added, casually pushing Sam away. "The sooner you get started, the sooner the two of us can forget about all this."

            Sam had no choice. "Yes, sir…" he mumbled dejectedly. "At least let me change into somethin' a bit more suitable."

            "Of course," Merry replied. "And, while you're doing that, I'll get some tea ready." He marched off to the kitchen, obviously pleased with what he achieved. Sam desperately wanted to jump under the quilt and hide again, but he knew there was no way to back out of this deal. So he took his time changing out of his nightshirt into his regular flannel one and carefully straitening out his disheveled hair.

            It wasn't long until the halls of Bag End were awake with the scent of Sam's cooking. Merry grew more and more impatient.

            "What's taking so long?" he whined, fiddling with his empty tea mug.

            Sam didn't even turn around to look at Merry. "You wanted breakfast, didn't you? This is a meal I'm makin', not your morning-time snack. You're just goin' to have to wait."

            Merry groaned at the mention of waiting. Just then, Frodo appeared in the doorway, fully dressed.

            "Good morning," he stated. Merry just nodded in reply. Sam whirled around, surprised.

            "Oh!" he squeaked, his face going red. "G-Good mornin', sir."

            "Did you sleep well, Sam?" Frodo asked. Merry opened his mouth, but before he could even get a single syllable out, he found it closed shut by Sam's hand.

            "Just fine, thank you," Sam answered, muffling the words Merry was trying to say. Frodo furrowed his brow in confusion as Sam smiled nervously. Sam let go of Merry's mouth, and Merry gasped deeply for air.

            "Wah!" Merry exclaimed as he tried to regain his breath. Suddenly, Sam grabbed him by the shirt collar.

            "You open your mouth an' all this food'll get burned, you hear?" Sam growled menacingly through his teeth. Merry gulped and nodded meekly.

            "Lads, lads!" Frodo cried, throwing his arms up. "What's all this then?"

            "Don't think I won't do it!" Sam added, ignoring Frodo's plea. Merry wagged his head more fervently and then motioned towards Frodo. Sam looked over to see his very bewildered master.

            "Mister Frodo!" He instantly released his grip on Merry's shirt collar, causing him to drop down onto the floor.

            Frodo looked down at Merry, who was in a pile on the floor. "Please don't throw around my cousin, Sam," he said.

            "Sorry, sir," Sam apologized. He helped Merry up. "And I'm sorry about that, Mister Merry."

            "I'm sure you are…" Merry rubbed at his side. "Next time, warn me, alright?"

            "Listen," Frodo stated. "If you two don't stop arguing, there will be no camping trip. And that means you go back home, Merry."

            Merry gulped. "I'll be good, I'll be good!" he squeaked.

            "But, first things first," Frodo continued. "Unfortunately, we have completely neglected the task of planning out our trip. Do any of you have any suggestions of where to go first?"

            "I say not Buckland," Merry commented. "Actually, I was hoping we would steer clear from going to far east altogether."

            "I was thinking, maybe we could take the East Road to the Three Farthing Stone and decide from there." Frodo turned to Sam, who was tending to the food. "You've never been out there before, have you?"

            Sam shook his head. "No, sir. Never even been past Bywater."

            "Well, then," Merry said, slinging an elbow on Sam's shoulder. "You're in for a real treat. The stone marker they have there was laid down by the king of Nobury who ruled these lands well over a thousand years ago. It's a grand thing to look at."

            Sam recalled the long, boring hours he spent learning about Middle-earth history from Bilbo during the uneventful winter months (Frodo also served time learning, too, although he actually seemed to enjoy it). He remembered hearing about the Numenorian kingdom, Arnor, that used to occupy the Shire before the hobbits even crossed the Misty Mountains. Eventually, the Men diminished out of the north and moved southwards to Gondor and Rohan, leaving behind ruins to be grown over by earth and grass. The Three Farthing Stone was the remains of a great watchtower that was at the meeting point of three different sections of the kingdom, those of which would later be known as the West, South, and East Farthings by the hobbits after the Men long since left the region. Typical hobbit resourcefulness took advantage of the pre-laid boundaries and the ruined watchtower served as a marker for the focal point of the three Farthings.

             "It really is," Frodo agreed. "It's certainly the closest we'll ever get to seeing anything built by Men, that's for sure."

            Sam nodded his head in agreement and turned back to frying the eggs, wondering about the ancient catacombs Bilbo had told him about that laid beyond the Old Forest.

            "I don't know about you," Merry said, shifting about in his seat. "But I say we shouldn't sit around here all day. The sooner Sam finishes making us breakfast, the sooner we leave."

            "And what does that have to do with anything?" Sam retorted.

            Frodo raised his eyebrows. "He has a point, Sam. The sooner you feed him, the sooner he will stop complaining."

            Merry nodded enthusiastically and Frodo smiled, as well. Sam hated cooking under pressure.

            "I just hope you two have everything we need to bring arranged properly," Sam sighed, idly poking at the crackling eggs. "I know I have everything I need."

            "Frodo made sure I had everything we needed," Merry stated as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Though, to think of it, I would gladly go over the trail rations again…"

            Sam groaned. "If you're that hungry…" He tossed Merry a piece of bread from off the counter.

            "Hup!" Merry barely caught it when Sam shoved a plate of butter into his hands. Ignoring the butter, Merry took an overly large bite out of the bread. "Aaa… Tha' hoo, 'Am." Sam tried offering Frodo a slice of bread, but Frodo just smiled and shook his head.

            "Unlike Merry, I can wait," Frodo remarked. "The Farthing Stone is not very far off at all. I still can't believe I never showed it to you before."

            Sam made an amused grin. "Well, Mister Frodo, I think you were too busy readin' about it than carin' to show it to me."

            "Yeah!" Merry whined loudly and reclined weightily on Frodo's back. "What a bookworm! He was just like that back in Buckland. If you ask me, some sunlight and fresh air will do him wonders." He pulled on Frodo's pallid cheek and let it snap back onto his face. "I bet that slimy little character from Bilbo's stories looks just like you."

            "Ow-- You mean Gollum?" Frodo inquired while rubbing his cheek. "I am glad you think so. But whether that was a compliment on my part or his… With you, it is only left to be assumed the former."

            "Now, now, Mister Frodo…" Sam chided shyly as he set the freshly prepared plates of food down on the table. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I think that you're a fine-looking fellow… far more handsome than any nasty, ol' Gollum, that's for sure…"

            "Still, that's probably not saying very much," Merry replied haughtily. He took a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "En-hee ways…" He swallowed. "Anyways, Frodo's been like that for as long as I could remember. He just loves to act all modest, but, deep down inside, he secretly gloats over the fact that he's the prettiest thing outside the Elf kingdoms."  He poked Frodo in the cheek. "Isn't that wight, Fwodo?"

            "Yes, and the lasses come breaking down my door everyday," Frodo rolled his eyes. " 'Where's Frodo?' they ask. 'We want to see his simply gorgeous face!'"

            "What about that one lass?" Merry asked and then scratched his head. "What was her name…? Deena? Derna…? Dree—"

            Frodo made a swift kick at Merry's leg. "Shut up!"

            "Ow!" Merry bawled. "What's the matter with you?!"

            Frodo stood up, grabbing Merry by the shirt collar while brandishing his tightly clenched fist. "I'll show you what's the matter!—"

            "Mister Frodo!" Sam intervened. "Don't start causin' trouble!"

            Frodo suddenly realized the tight spot Merry was in.

            "Ah, sorry," he apologized while letting go of his cousin.

            Merry straightened out his shirt and brushed himself off. "I think you really do need some fresh air. You've been cooped up inside way too long."

            "Well," Frodo said, sitting back down. "Just as soon as we're finished here, we can get going."

            The three hobbits managed to finish their breakfast meal without a fuss, and it was mid-morning when they set foot outside Bag End.

             "Are you sure you have everything?" inquired Frodo to Merry. Merry rolled his eyes and groaned.

            "Yes! Will you quit asking me that?"

            "Last time," Frodo grinned. "You forgot an extra pair of trousers. And then do you remember what happened?"

            "I got them torn while jumping over Maggot's bloody garden fence!" Merry replied. "In that case, yes! Yes, I do have an extra pair of trousers!"

            "Well, there you go," Frodo added, slapping his cousin on the shoulder. "See what a little afterthought gets you?"

            "Pants?"

            "No! Wisdom. And, knowing you, that's much more valuable than pants."

            "Oh."

            Frodo, sighing, shook his head and locked the front door. He turned to look at the neatly folded-up mass of tent canvas and poles that were attached to his servant's knapsack. He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Are you alright carrying that tent, Sam?"

            Sam nodded. "Aye. Barely notice I'm even carryin' it, sir."

            " 'Barely notice'?!" Merry cried incredulously. "You look like a flipping pack horse!"

            "I'm quite alright, Mister Merry," Sam replied matter-of-factly, his walking stick tucked under his arm. "Are you sure you don't want me to carry your pack for you?"

            Merry enthusiastically took his knapsack off of his shoulders, and was just about to shove it onto Sam before Frodo stopped him.

            "Knock it off, Merry! He was only joking."

            Merry, disheartened, slung his knapsack back on. "Spoil-sport."

            Frodo grinned and proceed to step out side the front gate. He followed by Merry, then Sam, who closed the gate behind himself. They continued down the Hill and off onto the road into town. As they passed through the market place, the little shops and stands were just about getting ready to open up for the business day. The shopkeepers, of course, paused to watch the strange trio of hobbits pass through; one that seemed to be carrying an entire caravan on his back, an outsider from Buckland, and a noticeably aristocratic one leading them. Once they left, the market went back to normal.

            Soon, they passed over the bridge that led over the Water into Bywater. Off in the distance, Sam could still see Bag End rising above the other smials. They passed by the Green Dragon, which Sam noted was where Rosie Cotton worked as a barmaid. The passage through the rest of town was brief, and they found themselves turning off onto the East Road. It seemed to go on forever in both directions as they stood in its center, disappearing into the rolling countryside. Above them, a bright, blue sky shone with light clouds that blew by fast in the swift summer breeze. The tall grasses ahead of them rippled like water in the wind, dappled with the great shadows cast from the clouds overhead. Far off in the distance were mountains flanked by forests that, too, seemed to disappear off into the horizon.

            It was a surprisingly short amount of time before they reached the Three Farthing Stone. Sam was amazed as he looked at the hundred foot-high white stone ruins. It seemed ancient, echoing the majesty of a long-since-forgotten age. As the hobbit approached it, Sam noticed the bits of architectural detail that he recognized from Bilbo's books. There were decorations shaped like Men, eagles, and the seven-starred White Tree. But, there were some other carvings that he did not recognize.

            "What's all that writin' around the base?" he asked Frodo, pointing at the large stone blocks that made up the tower's base. "It doesn't seem to go with the rest of the buldin', if you ask me."

            Frodo smiled. "That's not part of the original architecture." He stepped through the tall overgrowth, pushing aside the grass to reveal more writing. "See?" Sam came closer.

            "Tweenagers come here to carve their names into the rock," Frodo stated, running his fingers over the letters. "Not a very nice thing to do to something so old and beautiful, but, then again, I was never a very exciting tweenager, either."

            Sam chuckled and continued to examine the rest of the tower. The tall columns that stood upon the base supported the remains of a top story. The staircase inside was crumbling, leaving nothing but as few steps that led up to nowhere. Long, dark shadows were cast by the columns as the sun peeked in between them. Sam shielded his eyes and turned away, setting down his bulky knapsack. He stretched his arms with a loud sigh; it felt good to get that thing off of his back. Frodo and Merry had gone off to explore the ruins, but Sam reclined against its wall to bask in the sun.

            "If this is part of campin', I'm enjoyin' it already," Sam stated absent-mindedly, feeling his face warming in the sun. The breeze ruffled his ginger hair.

            "Don't be so ready to content yourself just yet," Frodo chided. "It'll get much more fun, believe me." Merry snickered in agreement.

            "Poor little Sam had no idea what he's in for."

            Sam frowned. "Surely, Mister Merry… If you keep makin' this seem like its some sort of punishment, then why do you and Mister Frodo even go on these things, if you follow me?"

            "Oh, come on!" Merry groaned. "We're just playing around with you."

            "Besides," Frodo added. "It's always nice to have a sense humor… Especially when it comes time to set up camp."

            Frodo and Merry chuckled. Sam sighed and shook his head. He couldn't help but notice how differently his master acted while around his cousin. Frodo seemed much more unrestrained and social, even to point of becoming quite cheeky. Often, when he was like that, Sam found himself often getting hurt by Frodo's uncharacteristic recklessness. Sam's naturally shy and sensitive nature was not accustomed to Frodo's new behavior. Most of the time, when Frodo had guests, Sam would be nowhere to be found. Maybe Frodo wasn't the hobbit Sam thought him to be.

            Sam let out another sigh, this time, full of exasperation. He slid lower against the wall and began to nod off. Soon, he was fast asleep. The last night had been terribly restless for him, and a nap didn't sound to bad to him at all. And, for quite a while, he was able to rest peacefully, nestled between the tall grasses that grew close to the wall.

            But it didn't take long for Frodo and Merry to realize Sam's whereabouts. They looked at each other and smiled wide, mischievous grins. Then, without a single sound they approached the sleeping tweenager. Merry impatiently shuffled up close to Sam, wanting to be the one to disturb his sleep, but Frodo stopped him from getting any closer. Frodo smirked wicked and leaned in close to Sam. He brought his face close to Sam's until their noses almost touched.

            "Sam…" he whispered. No response. "Sam… Wake up, Sam." Sam stirred slightly. Beside him, Merry was trying hard to stifle his giggles. Frodo was close to laughing, too. "Oh, Sam… Won't you wake up?"

            Frodo slipped his hand behind Sam's head and began running his fingertips over Sam's hair. "Won't you wake up for your Frodo?" he cooed warmly. "I want to see your beautiful eyes…" Sam, still asleep, stirred weakly, his cheeks slightly red. Pausing to collect himself, Frodo clenched his jaw tightly as he snickered silently. Merry was in tears.

            Frodo took a deep breath and leaned even closer to Sam. He was so close that he barely kept his lips from brushing the tip of Sam's ear. "Oh, Sam…" he whispered huskily, slowly stroking Sam's hair. "Please… Oh, Sam, please…"

            Sam blushed deeply as he felt Frodo's warm breath on his ear and his fingers in his hair. A small, shy smile set on his lips and he squirmed weakly, though still very much asleep. Frodo took his other hand to Sam's face and began to pet his burning cheek, his ashen fingers running over Sam's deeply tanned skin.

            "Please… Oooohhh, Sam… I want you…" Frodo moaned softly, breathing hot, heaving breaths onto Sam's ear. Merry was visibly dying now. "I want you, Sam… I want you…" He then pulled his face back slightly.

            "TO WAKE UP!" he yelled straight into Sam's ear. Sam nearly had a heart attack. Instantly, his eyes snapped open and he went flying the opposite direction.

            "Ack!" he screeched as he landed on his face in the tall grass. His heart was pounding out of his chest. Behind him, he could hear Frodo and Merry hysterically cracking up with laughter.

            "Holy-- Holy hell!" Merry gasped. "Tha-that was hilarious!"

            "Oh my god! Oh my god!" Frodo was doubled-over, tears streaming down his face. "I think-- I think I'm going to die that was so funny!"

            As they continued to roar with laughter, Sam felt himself flush darker with shame. He had never been so humiliated in his whole life. And, to make things even worse, he had made a complete and utter fool of himself at the hands of his own beloved master! A great feeling of despair consumed his entire being and he began to weep sorrowfully. Above all else, he felt betrayed. How could Frodo do such a thing to him?

            Merry was the first one to notice that Sam had started crying. He nudged at Frodo with his elbow. "Uh… Frodo…"

            Frodo was still trying to regain his breath. "Ah-- Ah, what? Wha-what is it?" Letting out another snicker, he wiped the tears away from his eyes. "Oh… Alright… What's the matter?" Merry pointed at the shivering lump that was Sam. Frodo looked over at him and his face went pallid.

            "Oh, no…" Frodo crawled over to Sam. "Sam… I… I'm so sorry…"

            Sam curled up tighter and sobbed harder. Frodo furrowed his brow worriedly.

            "Please don't cry, Sam…" Frodo said, his face marked with concern. "I was only having a little fun…" He softly laid his hand on Sam's shoulder. Almost instantly, Sam sent his arms sideways, knocking away Frodo's hand.

            "Go away," he growled furiously, his other hand covering his face. Frodo pulled his hand back, shocked at Sam's sudden anger. He was so surprised that he was in awe. Merry crept up to Sam and shook him by the shoulder.

            "Come on, Sam!" Merry pleaded. "Lighten up! Frodo was only kidding around!"

            "Leave me alone, damn it!" Sam's hand flew out and grasped Merry by the shirt collar. He jumped to his feet and dragged Merry up with him.

            "What the hell are you doing!?" Frodo cried, leaping to his feet. Merry let out a squeak as Sam had him dangling several inches off of the ground. Sam's eyes were hard and cold as tears still ran down his cheeks.

            "Put him down, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed again. Sam suddenly snapped out of his rage, his face going pale. He looked over to see Frodo's wide, blue eyes shining with shock. Sam quickly set Merry down and took a step backwards, his eyes frozen on Frodo's. Then, he felt his knees go weak and he helplessly crumpled to the ground. From his knees, he slid out over onto his stomach and just laid there, too exhausted to cry.

            "Forgive me, sir…" he murmured breathlessly. Frodo and Merry stared at the miserable hobbit-lump that laid on the ground. Neither knew what to say nor do.

            "I… I…" Frodo stammered. Sam stirred and sighed.

            "I want to sleep."

            It seemed like a fair enough request. So, Frodo dug out Sam's blanket and draped it over him. Sam nodded his head in thanks and soon was asleep again, this time, to remain undisturbed. Frodo and Merry watched Sam as he slept peacefully. Merry knew of Sam's restless night before, but he wasn't so sure Frodo did. He assumed that he didn't.

            "Ah, well…" Merry sighed, but fell silent again. Frodo laid over on his back and looked up at the sky. Merry did, too. And, for many minutes, they did nothing but stare up at the clouds that were sailing by.

            "Did you know he was going to do that?" Merry asked, breaking the silence. Frodo shook his head.

            "Not really."

            "Oh."

            The two fell silent again. Merry started to grow very bored. He looked over at Frodo. Unlike Merry, he seemed to be taking advantage of the situation and was deep in thought. Merry rolled his eyes and looked back up at the sky. A bird flew past and landed on the Stone.

            "I mean," Merry broke in again. "Just what were you thinking?"

            Frodo turned over on his side. "Hmm?"

            "I think you did know that he wouldn't like that," Merry continued.

            "Well… I…" Frodo thought for a moment. "I thought it would be funny if—"

            "Oh?" Merry sat up. "So you thought it would be funny, eh? I would have just, oh, I don't know… cut right to the yelling in his ear part, not moan into it!" He grunted irately. "Didn't you see how you made him feel?"

            Frodo was speechless, his eyes large and shame-filled. But, quickly ignoring the fact of his guilt, he let out an annoyed humph. "I don't think you should be the one lecturing me, Merry. You're not exactly the perfect paradigm of maturity, I'll have you know."

            "It's not a matter of maturity," Merry argued. "It's about bloody common sense! You just don't go messing around with people like that!"

            "You may be preaching that now, but you sure weren't doing anything to stop me from teasing him." Frodo crossed his arms over his chest. "Actually, I think you were taking great pleasure out of it."

            "Hey! I'm just the cousin here! I'm not the one who's his friend!"

            "Then why are you so bloody concerned about it?"

            Merry growled. "Oh, you know what I mean!"

            While Frodo and Merry continued arguing, Sam was woken up again. He blinked sleepily and reached over into his knapsack. Drawing out his weskit, he wadded it up and threw it at Frodo and Merry.

            "Quiet down, will you?" he inquired tiredly as the vest hit them in their faces. Instantly, they stopped quibbling.

            "Sorry, Sam," they both apologized at once. They stopped to look at each other confusedly, and then looked back over at Sam, who was already starting to fall asleep again. Right then, they both decided to stay quiet and not wake Sam up again.

            "Wake me up when it's time to leave, alright?" Sam requested before he pulled the blanket back over his shoulders. He let out a drowsy sigh and felt himself nod off. He secretly hoped that they would actually let him wake up by himself, because, to Sam, there was nothing crueler than a rude awakening.

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Not done yet! Another chapter!