"Punishment, Merry? I don't want to punish you. I've forgiven you!"
Oh, that vicious circle again, Merry groaned. He of course did not know that Frodo had actually punished him even though it was only in his mind. Merry had left the room when that happened. But Frodo could not enlighten him for Elrond had made him forget. What was left were two less sensible hobbits cleaved to each other.
"But I do want to do something for you, Merry!" The hobbit tensed as he saw almost mischievous glint in Frodo's eyes.
"What's that?" he croaked.
Frodo smiled widely.
"I want to make you fresh and relaxed. You said you wanted me to take care of you. Now how about a bath with your dearest friend Frodo?"
"A – a bath?" Merry gasped.
xxx
Aria e Memoria – Chapter 16 – Merry is May-time
Summary: Frodo bathed him, lulled him, coddled him, but what Merry saw was different.
For longer than a moment Frodo froze in his place, eyes widening in awe as he was taking in the beauty beyond beauty of the voluminous bath chamber within which he and Merry were. Two broad windows were stretched from the floor reaching up to the ceiling, facing out to the valley, which was covered with dense forests. Frodo moved to the end of the room to look out from the window, and his breath caught when his sight perceived the thread-like spectacle of the Bruinen River far afield below him. Frodo's hand reached for the glass panel as if he were to touch the foamy water he recalled was within his reach when he was carried aloft by a warg. Only his hands had been tied behind his back so grazing into the water had been a mere wistful thinking.
Sighing deep in grief-stricken reminiscence and being reminded at how he had been lucky for living through the nightmare as he turned back, Frodo was still heedless of the presence of another being with him, Merry. His eyes now swept around, first at the soft milky-white curtains draping on each side of each window, then to the short drawer and mirror hanging above it on the left hand side of the room, all embellished with golden leaves and vines ornaments. And eventually, Frodo set eyes on the piece in the middle of the room, the one that had been the purpose of his coming to this chamber. A bath. A hefty bath made of marble. It looked so opulent and shiny.
And roomy.
Frodo's eyes sparkled as he turned to Merry for the first time, almost predatory in Merry's opinion, with an unspoken "That will be enough for us both!"
Merry flinched due to an inexplicable reason, face contorted as though he had just received a physical blow, and all of a sudden everything seemed to spin and blur. Then he was not in the same room where Frodo was, yet his cousin was still with him.
He was back to the dank foul-smelled back room in a nameless inn in Bree. He was not seeing it but somehow he knew that on the other side of the wall there was a dilapidated wooden chair and some scattered length of ropes he had used earlier to bind his cousin's arms and legs. Sprawling forgotten several feet away on the floor was his leather belt with which he had lashed Frodo, making him bleed and breaking him. Then he remembered dragging that cousin of his with Pippin here, where he had put together a bucket of icy water. There was some more lessons he wished Frodo to learn, or simply to compel him to submit even more. To drown him with a new realization of who owned whom. Who owned what. Or in Merry's contemptuous words, who loved whom.
But looking about, Merry could not find Pippin. The bucket of water was still there, as well as Frodo. Merry realized something uncanny, though. It was not Frodo who was kneeling down before him. It was him who was down on his knees, and Frodo was standing, looming over him, and leering cruelly at his cousin. Merry gasped and began to tremble. He raised his hands to – to do whatever he could do to deter what Frodo intended to bring upon to him, only to find that his arms had been wrenched backwards and tied securely. His eyes shot wide, and he let out a scream.
"No, Frodo. NO!"
The tense shriek started Frodo and he grasped his cousin's upper arms. "Merry, what is it?" He shook the other hobbit but the latter seemed to be lost and unreachable. Merry's eyes were not vacant but full of terror, yet they still did not really look at Frodo. The Baggins immediately dived into panic himself because no matter hard he clenched Merry, the Brandybuck remained stiff and unyielding. Frodo stared wildly around, huffing desperately, and closed his eyes in a silent plea to Eru to help him. Shifting agitatedly, Frodo veered to wrap Merry into his embrace. At first he thought Merry would not budge but then he found his cousin had turned limp.
Frodo brought Merry closer to the tub, back to his initial intent to bestow his dear one with a nice, invigorating bath. He could not tell why Merry was behaving strangely but he hoped the bath would help the younger hobbit retrieve his usual self. Frodo flinched despite himself at the thought. His usual self – undoubtedly the one Frodo got to be familiar with and to love.
Half carrying a flaccid figure almost the same height and weight as he – or mayhap even heavier, had left Frodo breathless. He stood Merry with the Brandybuck's rear thighs leaning against the cold edge of the tub, relieved that it was fabricated for the elves so it was quite high for the hobbits. Standing close before his cousin, still full with wonder, Frodo struggled to keep Merry standing. "Merry, oh, what's happening to you?" He let Merry's head loll forward and rest on his shoulder. It seemed that now he was dozing, or unconscious. Frodo had meant to get the chair in front of the mirror to seat Merry but it seemed as though he was stuck with him. Frodo could barely move, and Merry felt heavier every time. Eventually Frodo decided to get to the action right there and then. If Merry did not allow himself to feel comfortable or to let Frodo know what had come upon him, then Frodo had better get Merry into the water without more ado. Frodo glanced into the softly rippled surface of the water, feeling thankful that Sam had immediately seen to it that his master got what he wanted: a bath full of warm water. His hand inching slowly to Merry's shirtfront, Frodo started to unfasten the buttons.
Merry never felt Frodo's firm but affectionate grip on his arms. He could not see concern shadow his cousin's lovely eyes or sense it through the arms holding him close. In Merry's mind eyes Frodo was still standing over his bound, kneeling form, and now moving forward to him, a hand stretching out, swaying up only to descend as flash as a lightning, slapping Merry square on his left cheek fiercely.
The Brandybuck rocked and crumpled to his side, landing hard upon the uneven ground of the inn's chamber, chafing the outer part of Merry's right arm. The hobbit sobbed loudly, pleading and begging for Frodo to spare him before his pride silenced him and biting his lower lip, Merry folded his thighs close to his body, trying to curl up but in vain for the trussed up hands behind his back. He dared not look up, which had seemed to infuriate Frodo even more. Unbeknownst to Merry, a hand shot down, grabbing a tuft of his hair forcing him up back to a kneeling position.
"Stay!" snarled Frodo curtly. When Merry made to move backwards, Frodo's vise-like claw squeezed Merry's throat. "Don't you dare…"
Merry rolled his eyes up a little, and sniffle, croaking out a "I won't – please…" He saw Frodo nodded with satisfaction, and reached for the bowl to get the water, and doused Merry before the once Ring-rapt hobbit had the chance to gulp a lungful of air.
Frodo's eyes were as big as a saucer when all of a sudden Merry begun to twist and turn as he started to undress him. It was such a contrast with his condition not half a moment ago when the hobbit was as limp as a rag doll. He made Frodo unable to complete his job and grab him instead, pulling him into his arms again.
"Merry, stop it! I was just to help you remove your clothes before you get into the bath. Merry!" Frodo glanced at his cousin's eyes, now wild with fear, identical to how they were some time ago. Frodo frowned and shook his head slowly. Merry's manners were beyond his comprehension at all, and now the hobbit's mouth gapped open and he made a sound as if he were drowning and incapable of breathing. The hobbit struggled for some time more but he was wearing out fast so now Frodo could easily manhandle him and after all clothes had been stripped off of Merry, all Frodo should do was just laying his cousin into the bath.
"There," murmured Frodo, coddling Merry and ever so softly resting his head onto the hard rim of the tub. Frodo's smile shone across the Ring-bearer's content face, and noticing that Merry was looking at him, no matter how impassive the eyes were, Frodo moved and stroked the other hobbit's cheek lovingly. 'You will love it, Merry," purred Frodo, his eyes roaming at his younger cousin's body, and he detected Merry's stiff posture.
"Ah," Frodo shook his head. "You won't be like this once this is over, Merry." And he turned and ambled away to the vicinity of the drawer, sighing happily as he saw what was in it. There were countless numbers of small decanters of bath oil in it. Frodo took one of them and brought it close to his nostrils to sniff at the fragrance and he smiled. "Vanilla. So sweet." Frodo squinted at Merry, who was still lying motionless in the tub.
"You know," Frodo contemplated. "I should've prepared the water first. I'm sorry, Merry. I should've put the oil and bubbled the soap before I got you to the water." The hobbit shifted his attention to those tiny bottles again, took the vanilla flavour and picked two more after carefully choosing the fragrance, popping open the soft buds of the cover of each flask while trying to remember the use of each scent. Frodo walked back to Merry, almost bouncing with joviality, after grabbing a piece of washcloth from the drawer as well.
The Baggins, who acted rather strangely than he usually did, even compared to the days when he was still in Bag End, kneeled beside the tub and began pouring in the content of each decanter. First, rose.
"'Tis to dispel all the knotted muscles you have, Merry. Rose is very good to bring comfort."
Next, lavender.
"More so, so that you feel anxious no more. I need you to forget everything you've done to me, Merry, and to stop getting disheartened by the memory of it. Lavender is the best."
And lastly, the vanilla.
Frodo stooped closer to Merry's ear, a hand lifting high while pouring the oil into the water about Merry's legs, whispered softly, "Remember me, Merry. Remember me when I was still in Brandy Hall. When you were a mere lad and I was your big Fwodo. You couldn't say my name proper, Merry, and we both used to play by the pond in the garden. You would shriek gleefully every time I tickled you and I would laugh and laugh." Frodo dabbed a tear that was unexpectedly trickling with his index finger. "You were the only one who could avert my mind from thinking of my parents. I love you, Merry. I've loved you since those times. Don't you ever think…"
"Merry!"
The small hobbit crawled out of the pond, coughing and spurting water out from his nose and mouth, eyes reddening, and for some time unable to talk at all. Merry was on his hands and knees, struggling to draw air into his chest. "Fwodo…" He bleated weakly.
His older cousin was by his side in an instant, shame and remorse shadowing his ashen face. "Oh, Merry, forgive me! I must've been dozing off while I should've been watching over you." He patted the part between Merry's shoulder blades to help him let out all the water. The Brandybuck winced at the sharp pain in his chest, coughed some more, and the fit eventually subsided. He looked up at Frodo's sky-blue eyes.
"Not you," Merry stuttered in his small voice. "I – I walked around while you were not looking. That made it my fault." He plopped down on the grass, leaning into Frodo, his small legs splaying across Frodo's thighs, and his arms made it to wrap around Frodo's upper body. "I'm so sorry, Fwodo. I'm so sorry." The sniff and sobs seemed to be fully unbefitting, since he was the one who had just been very close to drowning. Or mayhap they came from the relief of being spared from danger.
Yet that was not what Merry felt. Or did not feel. It was just… everything seemed like floating as if he did not belong here. As though he had just experienced something in a different time and space, and his cousin, Frodo, did not act like himself at all. It was true that he was with Frodo and Frodo had laid his hand on him as well, but in a way that was far removed from the way he soothed and cuddled Merry just now.
Merry had also felt as if he was unable to breathe, but that was not because he drowned in a pond behind Brandy Hall. In fact, he had not been anywhere near his dwelling at all…
A hand smoothed his hair and Merry closed his eyes. Oh, he cared not. He cared not if he was not where he had been or if he could not make sense of what was happening with him or with his mind. He felt safe and loved – that was what mattered most.
"Merry." A whisper was calling his name, and his eyes fluttered open. There was Frodo, his most beloved cousin, and he had a stem of a rose in his hand. Where did that come from? Frodo brought the flower to his face. "Smell it. Smell the sweet scent of it, Merry. I know you love roses."
Merry nodded and sniffled deeply. He did love roses. They brought tranquility into his mind. And he drifted away into a peaceful slumber.
Frodo could see that Merry was not as tense as he had been, and for that he was grateful. Merry needed not be, and he was not supposed to be scared of Frodo, of all people, or drenched in his own guilt. Frodo realized Merry might have nightmares from the times when he had been consumed by his yearning for the Ring just like Frodo having been plagued by the dread and incomprehension toward Merry. Easing away the crinkles on Merry's brow with the wetted cloth, Frodo hummed a tune usually sang to him by Bilbo when he was still a child.
Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.
Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!
Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!
Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!
Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!
Fall Moon! Dark be the land!
Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!
Hushed be all water, till dawn at hand!
Frodo glanced out of the window and his eyes softened. It may not be dawn and the day's light of the Sun seemed too dazzling as it descended onto the sheer terrain of the valley. Still the light was soaked up by the trees, leaving a more somber glow that breached into Frodo's understanding – brittle still – mind. He wiped over Merry's face, his closed lids, small and delicate nose, silken cheeks, and his slightly parted lips, breathing in the alluring aroma of the mixed scents.
Love.
That was all what one needed to forgive another.
Merry is May-timeNow was October, but he knew they both could work it out together and turned it to May. With a loving gesture Frodo bent forward, brushing his lips to Merry's damp and sweet-smelling forehead. Then with a determination to complete the task in hand, Frodo proceeded to his cousin's exposed throat, lean shoulders, lanky arms…
fin
I can't believe this is just the second series of mine that is completed! OK. I promise, promise, promise to continue the others.
Would like to thank my forever beta, Aelfgifu, for being there for me always.
And to my lovely readers and those who took the trouble to give me comments and feedback. I treasure them so much!
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My wettest kiss and tightest hug,
Iorhael
