Young Merry in Hobbiton

Author's Note: This chapter should have been posted before the chapter here listed as Smoke and Thunder. After a brief period, I shall switch the placements so that they are more chronologically correct.
thnx! --Loth

Part One: Merry Learns a Secret

'What a fantastic day in the Shire,' thought Merry Brandybuck as he sauntered down the Road that wound through the valley of the Water. He always enjoyed walking through the gentle rolling hills and scattered clumps of trees on his way to visit his cousins. Buckland was home, and he sometimes felt uncomfortable in the wide open lands with no Hay or River to protect him. Cousin Frodo did not seem to have any trouble adjusting to the scenery, so Merry swallowed his own anxiety, preferring that as a meal to the one he would have to eat if his friends discovered his unreasonable fear. Brandybuck pride knew no fear!

Merry waved jauntily at the hobbits that he passed, working in their fields or traversing the road past him. He ignored the stares and loud whispers, such things just did not register to him. It was too fine a summer day to worry about prejudice.

Merry had just crossed the Water and was jogging down the Bywater lane when he saw his cousin Bilbo Baggins ahead of him, walking along in the same direction as the young hobbit was running. Merry was about to call out to him, when suddenly hey presto! the old hobbit vanished right before Merry's eyes!

Merry wrenched himself to a stop. He stared in stunned amazement at the spot on the road that no longer contained Bilbo. Standing there, he could then hear sounds of someone approaching from down the road, coming toward him. Harsh voices raised in argument, clumping hoof-beats, and the creak of waggon wheels. Merry dove through the hedgerow to hide himself.

He wriggled beneath the foliage until he could see the road clearly. Lobelia and Otho were riding in a pony-trap, bickering at each other, while their son Lotho sat between them and whined about being hungry. They passed slowly, and Merry sighed with relief as they disappeared. They were without a doubt the most unpleasant and rude hobbits in the entire Shire. It was very difficult for Merry to control his tongue around them when they bad-mouthed Cousin Bilbo. And the things they said about Frodo!

Merry ground his teeth. Frodo had forbidden Merry to defend him, saying that nobody listened to the Sackville- Bagginses anyway, but Merry could see that some did. Frodo could be so innocently forgiving sometimes that Merry wanted to thump him on the head, except that truly he could never raise a hand to his dear cousin. It was Frodo's kindness and gentle nature that endeared him so to his friends. It made Merry feel fiercely protective of him.

Merry was gazing into the empty road as these thoughts ran through his mind. A fleeting shadow attracted his wandering eyes, and as he glanced toward the movement, Bilbo reappeared as suddenly has he had disappeared, right before his eyes. Merry saw him regard some small thing that lay in the palm of his hand. Bilbo raised the thing to his lips and kissed it, then flipped it into the air, a glittering golden flash in the sunlight. He caught it deftly and slipped it into the pocket if his waistcoat.

Merry scrambled to his feet, and watched Bilbo walk away toward the Hill. The tales were true! And he had never more than half- believed those stories of dragons and treasure that Bilbo told. Merry felt a great consuming desire to follow and speak to him, but he forced himself to wait. It would not do, to reveal that he had witnessed this strange event.

Merry carefully schooled himself to lock it in his heart, for some voice that spoke deep in his mind said that a time would come when this secret would serve him well. He waited for about an hour before he returned to the road and jogged toward Bag End, whistling in the golden afternoon sunlight.

Part Two: Young Merry in Hobbiton
the pre-Quest follies of a 'tween Hobbit

Merry could not contain himself... the mystery was just too delicious. He found himself visiting Bag End every chance he could, even inventing excuses to his parents for chances to observe odd Mr Bilbo. Cousin Frodo was an excellent excuse.

Not that Merry was not genuinely fond of Frodo Baggins; they had been as brothers before Frodo's adoption by Bilbo. But what he had witnessed that day on the Bywater Lane germinated in his imagination, and tales of dragon treasure and magic rings were like salt in the wound of his sin. What could the harm be; just a casual inquiry or a glance in Bilbo's study?

Frodo was unusually close-mouthed to Merry's questions, delivered under the veil of fire-side tales. He openly discussed his eccentric uncle's strange deeds and stories, but in the matter of the magic ring, he offered no information. Merry sensed that he was concealing something; Frodo had always been the worst liar, and his cousin Merry could read him like a book.

Bilbo's study was harder to get into than a guarded castle, now that Merry was keen to try. The door was ever closed, and Bilbo in and out so often one was never sure if he was inside. Merry borrowed books frequently, and even wound up improving his own ciphering skills as an excuse to be inside that trove of intrigue, though he could never linger as long as he liked, and never-ever alone.

Merry was sure that he would burst with frustration, until the lucky day dawned and his long awaited chance occurred. He was on holiday from Buckland, spending a fortnight with his cousins in Hobbiton.

Frodo and Merry had been studying in Frodo's room, working together on equations that Bilbo thought would hone the skills of the future Masters of Bag End and Buckland. Numbers were a gift to Merry; he could always beat Frodo when they raced through a quiz. However, when it came to the creation of poetry and song, he deferred to Frodo. Merry found himself stuck over the preparation of even a simple couplet, and he did not sing well; only in choruses, and even then, only the loud and comical songs.

Bilbo stepped into the room, greeting Merry absently as if he had not been there for several days already. Merry smiled, used to the old hobbit's preoccupations.

"Frodo, my lad, would you mind terribly running down to Bywater? I have exhausted my ink supply, and we've only your little bottle left in the whole smial. Guy Burrows has a fresh supply, or should still have an odd bottle lying about... be a good lad and fetch some for me?"

"Of course, Uncle!" Frodo leapt up instantly; the young hobbits had been lying side-by-side on the floor, sharing the inkwell. "Want to come, Merry?"

Merry saw a glimmer of opportunity. "I bet you can't get back before I finish this sheet." He dared his cousin with a sly smile.

Frodo laughed. "I have a better chance beating you on my feet than with my ciphering! You have your bet!" And the young hobbit raced out of the hole, and Bilbo called after him, "And bring back some cakes for tea!"

Bilbo went back into his study, and Merry worked furiously to finish his paper, all the while listening with long ears for any movement from Bilbo.

Just as Merry was despairing that Frodo would be back before another chance came, someone pulled the bellrope outside Bag End's front door.

"Frodo, there is someone at the door!" Bilbo's voiced drifted through the smial, faint behind his closed door. Merry grinned; he had totally forgotten that Merry was even there.

The bell rang again. Merry heard Bilbo sigh, then his door opened with a creak, and he thumped down the hall, irritated at the interruption. The study door did not creak shut again. Merry raced silently down the hall and slipped into the forbidden room!

His eyes sought the Red Book—it was not in its usual place! Merry scanned the shelves frantically, hearing Bilbo talking with his unwelcome visitor. There were so many books...!

"No, I don't have time today, I'm sorry! Come tomorrow, and we'll discuss it over tea." A response was murmured, and Merry heard the front door close with a snick. He did not have time to get out of the room! Hastily, he tucked himself behind the door just as Bilbo opened it and came inside. He closed the door and turned toward his desk, muttering darkly about the Sackville-Bagginses.

Merry's heart was in his mouth. If Bilbo turned or if Merry moved an inch, the old hobbit could not fail to see him. His mind flew a hundred miles an hour, trying to come up with a plausible reason for him to be standing inside the study... nothing came to mind. Merry closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

Someone knocked on Bilbo's study door and then opened it; Merry was covered temporarily. He could not breathe... his heart was beating so loud he was afraid that Bilbo would hear.

"Mr Bilbo, sir?" Merry recognized the Gaffer's voice. "Sorry to disturb you sir, but I thought you ought to know... them S.B.'s, sir, they are making a row down the lane. I fear it is young Frodo that they're teething on."

Bilbo jumped up and left the room, and Merry suddenly felt very bad. Drat those Sackville-Bagginses, waylaying poor Frodo on an errand for his Uncle! But as he moved to exit the room and follow, he spied the Red Book upon Bilbo's desk, where it had been covered with a map so that he did not see it earlier.

Temptation seized him, and he was drawn to the open pages, lit clearly in the sunlight falling through Bilbo's open study window. His eyes soaked up the text, and he eagerly turned page after page, keeping his finger in the place where it had lain open.

Almost he forgot himself. When the noise of Bilbo's return, accompanied by a harassed Frodo, came to his ears, he flipped the book back to the original page and dove out of the open window into the garden behind Bag End. He scrunched himself up under the eave of the window and listened.

"Drat those two! Will they never get past the fact that I have the right to choose my heirs? They are so greedy... they shame the name of Baggins!" Bilbo's voice was angry. Merry trembled, imagining that he might become the target of that anger.

Frodo's voice was softer. "They are disappointed, Bilbo. I think I understand them... Bag End is a beautiful hole, and I am grateful that I can share it with you."

"It is not your fault, Frodo! You are much more forgiving than I, sweet boy! I am glad you did not heed their spiteful words! Come on, let's have some tea! My ideas for the book are quite driven from my head now!"

Then came the words Merry most dreaded:

"Where is Merry?

⌂

Merry crouched under the window, his heart hammering like a rabbit's. He decided that he would claim that he went for a walk and had been out of the hole and missed the excitement—when the bushes parted suddenly and Sam Gamgee's face appeared, staring at Merry in surprise.

"Master Merry! What ever are you doing under Mr Bilbo's window?" Merry was startled exceedingly, and his excuses faded from his lips. Sam was whispering, and he motioned Merry away, leading him out into the garden behind the tomato trellis.

Merry wondered if his heart had stopped beating... he felt numb, and he could not stop the scarlet flush that crept over his face. He stammered that he had heard the S.B.'s at the door, and had hidden to avoid them. He could see that Samwise was having none of his story.

The look on Sam's face clearly showed that he knew Merry was lying. He said nothing; it wasn't the place of any Gamgee to correct a Brandybuck—or a future Master at that! But Sam was very close in age to Merry, and he was smarter than most thought. He simply looked at Merry, and Merry felt suddenly very wretched.

"All right, Sam." he said with a sigh, "I will tell you the truth. I was lurking there to try to learn more about Mr Bilbo's..."

"Elves?" Sam hissed the word, and Merry winced; he was sure that the noise would carry all the way to Bywater. Sam's eyes were lit up, and then he began to blush, too. Merry guessed that Sam must have found that spot behind the rosebush under Bilbo's window for purposes of his own lurking business. Oh ho!

Merry thought quickly. "Yes, something of that indeed, Master Gamgee. I think we both have a little secret now, don't we?"

Sam looked down with a grin. "I'm sure you don't mean any harm in it, Master Merry—I don't! Perhaps we will just forget to mention this to anyone." But Sam's face darkened a little, and he was most serious. "I don't think that you did right though, sir, lettin' Mister Frodo go off alone and get tangled with those Sackville-Bagginses. No tale of Elves is worth him being hurt and friendless. It is not the place of any Gamgee to tell another hobbit what to do. You are more able than I to protect him, if you don't mind me saying so."

Merry was plunged again into shame. "You are right, Sam! That is my place." He breathed a sigh of relief, and moved to go back to the hole, but Sam stayed him with a touch on his sleeve.

"One might learn a lot from a glimpse of Old Mr Bilbo's book," he said. His large brown eyes caught at Merry; he was pleading to know something he could never ask. Merry hesitated, and Sam closed his fingers very gently around his arm. "One hears many strange things that want sharin'," he added, a smile playing around his lips. Merry suddenly saw—not Samwise the gardener's son—but another hobbit 'teen eager for adventure and friendship. He clasped Sam's hand and shook it.

"All right, Sam! But we shall not let our game become known to any other soul, and we will always look after Frodo and Bilbo first and foremost!" Sam shook his hand back with a toothy grin.

⌂

With Sam as a more plausible alibi, Merry was excused of his strange absence and after tea was taken and Bilbo had closeted himself again, Frodo and Merry sent out for a stroll in the garden to enjoy the afternoon sun. Merry could tell Frodo was preoccupied.

"I'm sorry I did not walk with you to Bywater, Frodo! Maybe Lobelia and Otho would not have..."

"They would have!" Frodo gave his cousin a smile, but it was not the usual bright, sunny smile. It was rather tired and sad-looking, and Merry felt again the wretchedness of his selfish compulsion. Frodo saw his discomfort, and thumped him upon the back.

"Don't worry, Merry! They are part and parcel of being Bilbo's heir, and I would not trade my place with any other hobbit, in the Shire or out of it! Come on... let's race to the pool! I have an urge to swim!"

Merry ran after Frodo, and he was suddenly glad to be Merry Brandybuck, friend of the Bagginses of Bag End. He promised himself that never again would Frodo Baggins go anywhere without him along to protect him.

... And when a Brandybuck makes an oath, not word, wraith, nor wide-open space can force him to break it!!