Chapter 2: Memories, Concern, and Admiration

"This is the last," Pippin declared a bit breathlessly as he and Folco carried the final trunk to the wagon. Frodo watched from the doorway. Fatty was in the seat ready to be off as soon as the trunk was packed away and Merry showed up.

While he watched the hobbits with a look of calm, Frodo wrung his hands, feeling anything but calm at the moment. He had been hoping that Gandalf would show up momentarily, but the morning was waning without a trace of the wizard. He wondered and worried over his friend's whereabouts.

He had stayed up after all the others had retired for the night, packing away the last of his possessions which Merry and Fatty would take to Crickhollow. Many of the things he quickly packed away, for he was only half-interested in what he took with him from Bag End. How strange it felt to him – to pack off everything to Crickhollow; yet who knew when he would get to use these things again…if ever? He had been tempted to leave behind things which he had never really cared for, but that would make others very suspicious, and gossip traveled quickly throughout Hobbiton. However, Frodo examined carefully the final items he packed.

The last items did not seem that special to an ordinary observer, but they were to Frodo: a short poem written by his mother; several locks of hair saved from a haircut Bilbo gave Frodo, Merry, Sam, and Pippin one summer day; a small wooden dragon given to him by Gandalf years ago; a few framed drawings in simple blackberry juice of his friends. A lump had formed in his throat as he gazed and touched each item in turn.

After he had carefully packed them away, Frodo had sat on his bed and wept. He wept for his parents, of whom he had neither memories of their appearance nor times he had shared with them. He wept for his dear cousin Bilbo, whom he missed terribly. He wept for Sam, in gratitude of his coming with him on this quest. He wept for Gandalf, filled with anxious worry of where the wizard was, and uneasiness at the thought that he and Sam would have to go on without him. He wept for Pippin and Merry, who were so excited over the fact that he now would reside in Crickhollow, where they could visit him more often. He had nodded and given a strained smile as they talked about what they could do when they stopped by. He had felt a great pang in his heart at his cousins' excited eyes and bright smiles. How he would miss his favorite cousins! He hated thinking of how he would sneak out of Crickhollow, how he would say goodbye. He hated the thought of having to lie to his cousins. But he also wept with relief, for at least a few of those dear to him would remain safe in the Shire, out of danger. He had spent the rest of the night feeling restless, sleeping a little only to wake up suddenly in the middle of the night. Now, however, the time for weeping was over, and worry and concern swam in his head – for what the future held, for Gandalf. And then there was Merry…

The cousin in question at that moment breezed through the door and would have gone down the steps had not Frodo grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Half a minute, cousin," Frodo said in a slightly questioning tone.

Merry turned to him and blinked curiously. "Oh, yes, cousin Frodo?"

Frodo lifted an eyebrow. "All right there? You have seemed a bit…oh, I don't know. You have been rushing about all morning, and you have been talking to yourself, something you never do."

A light frown settled on Frodo's face. He had been shocked when he had gotten up early today and found Merry already up and having a cup of tea. He had seemed preoccupied, deep in thought and very serious – quite unlike himself. While Fatty, Folco, and Pippin had filled Bag End with song, laughter, and merriment, Merry was silent, observant, seeming to disappear only to reappear, and a bit jumpy. Frodo turned his attention to his cousin.

"I have, about what?" Merry's eyes widened, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Had he been that obvious?

"I do not know, but whatever it is, you frown deeply and you would glance around with a bit of unease." Frodo studied Merry carefully.

"Oh, well, I did not realize. I…there has just been a bit on my mind, I guess. I didn't get much sleep," Merry stammered. "When are you and Sam and Pippin leaving?" he asked hoping to switch attention away from himself.

Frodo was caught off guard by the question. "At nightfall, if Gandalf does not show."

Merry pursed his lips. Who knew if nightfall would be too late? He sighed. It would have to do. If he begged Frodo to leave sooner, that would lead to questions he did not want to answer. He had told no one about the dream he had all those years ago. "Very well," he nodded and resumed going down the stairs.

Frodo followed closely behind, not at all satisfied that Merry had avoided his question. Folco and Pippin jumped out of the back of the wagon, satisfied with the packing of the luggage. Sam gave the pony a few lumps of sugar, while Merry took his seat next to Fatty, taking up the reins.

"We shall have the house warmed up for you when you arrive," Merry told Frodo, who looked up him. "We will hopefully see you day after tomorrow if you do not sleep more than you walk," Merry said it in a teasing tone and with a playful smile, but inside he was anxious, praying that the hobbits would not waste time traveling to Bucklebury Ferry. Hurry, cousin! he silently shouted.

With a final round of good-byes and waves, Merry flicked the reins, and the wagon rumbled down the road. Fatty started singing a popular tune, but Merry was completely silent, lost deep in his thoughts.

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Folco gave a last wave to his friends as he closed the gate behind him and started to head for home. He had bid farewell to the three hobbits, wishing them safe travel and looked forward to seeing them again. He had hugged each one in turn, exchanging meaningful glances with Pippin and Sam. The silent exchange had an air of finality, for who knew when they would meet again?

Folco had come to carry a new sense of respect towards Sam, Merry, and Pippin. They were leaving behind everything that was familiar and comforting – their home, family and friends, their safe haven – to see that Frodo would not have to face the future alone. That act of selfless love showed Folco how deep the four hobbits' friendship ran.

Yet he could not say he envied them. Tramping out of the safe borders of the Shire was not for him. A journey which could last for months and possibly end in tragedy was not to his liking. He only hoped that what he had done would be enough. He would keep this great secret to himself and hope for his friends' safe return.

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TBC…