Chapter 4: Brandy Hall

Merry sat down to second breakfast with a smile. It was good to be back at his own kitchen table, in his own quiet corridor of Brandy Hall, where he could enjoy his meal without the fear of being attacked at any moment. He was home, safe and sound.

Of course, there was still work to be done. The occasional thief popped up here and there, the occasional man or half-orc stirring up trouble for the sake of it. But these were all tasks he could handle. Already, he'd scared out a dozen lingering Ruffians and buried half as many. In the past week, the reports of unsavory incidents had been reduced nearly to none, and for the past three days, Merry hadn't received a single complaint. It seemed the Ruffians were getting the message at last: the Shire was not to be overtaken.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. He answered amiably, calling his guest to come and join him. The door opened slowly and a rather fit (for a hobbit) finely dressed woman stepped in. The top of her hair was gathered at the base of her neck, while the bottom layers hung freely to her shoulders. While the first strands of gray were beginning to creep down her dark curls, her face showed the faintest lines of wrinkles.

"Mother!" Merry stood and pulled her into a hug. "Care to join me for breakfast?"

"Tomorrow, perhaps. Though I wished you'd asked me before, Meridoc! Sometimes, with all your orc slaying and Ruffian purging, I think you quite forget about your poor old mother! Today, it seems you have another guest." Here she turned and gestured to someone in the hall, beckoning them forward.

To Merry's surprise, Samwise Gamgee stepped in, looking as if he was walking on mithril. His eyes widened so large at the embossed archways and golden trim that Merry nearly laughed aloud. "Sam! Don't look so impressed! I should think, after Rivendell and Lothlorien, Brandy Hall should seem quite dull."

"Oh no, sir!" Sam blushed. "I mean, of course it isn't anything like visiting the elves, but I've never seen anything like it in the Shire. Even Bag End doesn't come close."

"Don't let Frodo hear you say that." Merry laughed, offering his hand to his guest. "Really Sam, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Begging your pardon, but it won't be so pleasant once you hear what I've got to say. Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but I've got something that can't wait."

"What is it?" Merry stiffened. He felt a chill down his spine at the thought of what might have brought his cousin's loyal servant and dear friend to his doorstep. "Frodo?"

"No!" Sam assured him. "Mr. Frodo's fine, last I left him three weeks ago. This has got to do with those Ruffians."

"Ah." At once, Merry felt relieved. So his cousin was settling down just fine after all. He had to admit it came as a bit of a surprise, though a pleasant one. Of course Frodo was resilient, Merry knew that even before the quest, but he had suffered so deeply, Merry worried how long it would take him to heal. In Gondor, Frodo had seemed distant, with fits of melancholy that would leave him shut inside for days, then pass as if nothing had changed. The Shire, Merry had thought, would cure that. Frodo himself seemed to agree; though he never said as much, he pressed their return to be as swift as possible. It wasn't until they arrived that Merry began to doubt its affect. It was something Frodo had said. What was it? That coming back was like falling asleep again? Merry tried to understand what he'd meant, but he simply couldn't relate to it. Here in the Shire, with Ruffians to round up, trees to plant, smials to fix—why, he was more awake than ever. And Frodo, with his role as Deputy Mayor, must surely feel the same?

But this was not the time to dwell on Frodo. This was the time to worry about Sam and his pressing matter. Merry returned to his chair, refreshed his cup of tea, and shoved all thoughts of his cousin aside. "Have a seat, Sam. Tell me all about it."

And so Merry listened patiently as Sam told him all about the night before and the sullen conversation he heard between the red-haired siblings. When he finished, Merry remained silent.

Sam, not wanting to press him, squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. When at last he could stand the silence no longer he said, "You will help, Master Merry, won't you? I know you're busy and all, but I hoped—"

"Oh Sam, you silly old fool, of course I'll help! I'm just trying to piece things together. This red headed girl, Fern, I think I saw her last night. I mistook her for a boy, but now that you mention it, I'll bet anything it was her. I caught her stealing from Farmer Maggot and secretly followed her to see if she met up with any of the Ruffians. She met up with Briar, alright, whom Pippin was tracking. We managed to catch him, but the girl got away."

"Well Briar won't do you no good now. Fern and Tommy just paid him to find out who killed their father."

"So it seems. I questioned the lad last night, and he said he was paid to give them food and that was all. He spent the night under watch by one of the Sheriffs, to be released in the morning." With a glance at the window, Merry saw the sun was high overhead and knew it was nearly mid-day. Briar would surely be released by now, but tracking him down wouldn't be too difficult, though it would take some time. Time, it seemed to him, that they didn't have. If they were to ensure Farmer Cotton's safety, they had better start with the greatest threat. Briar was merely the informant. It was the siblings they needed to worry about. He stood and stretched. "Well now, if Farmer Cotton's in danger, we best see he gets out of it. Where was it, exactly, where you last saw these Ruffians?"

Sam led Merry to the edge of the Old Forest. It was easier to navigate in broad daylight, when the weeds and branches were clearly visible. Sam found the entrance he had trampled through the previous night. Many branches still hung askew while many vines were flattened or bent. They found the campsite in no time, or what was left of it. It was deserted. The only sign of last night's visitors was a pile of ashes stomped into the mud.

Sam looked crestfallen. Merry placed a hand on his shoulder and offered an encouraging smile. "I expected as much. If they had any sense, they wouldn't stick around the same place two nights in a row. But we know where they're headed and who they're after. We'll see to it we get there first. How about we pay Farmer Cotton a visit?"

A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the rest (and that it took me so long to put up). Life has been filled with unexpected (and some expected) hectic-ness. But I promise I'll get more up soon! What do you think of the story so far? Anything you're looking forward to seeing?