2. Friends

Frodo had been holed up in that smial for two weeks now. He wasn't receiving company and was keeping to himself. Moping, Merry suspected; not that Frodo would ever admit that. Considering his situation, Frodo would insist.

Merry decided that enough was enough. Frodo could not spend the rest of his life in hiding. Confiding his plan to Pippin, the two set off for Bag End. Merry was going to get Frodo to cheer up, one way or another.

They arrived in early Winterfilth, as the days were growing shorter and the weather more chill. They had stabled their horses and were walking up Bag End's front path when they saw Sam working in a flower bed by the green front door of the smial.

'Hoi, Sam!' Merry called. 'Is Frodo in?'

'Aye, sir. But he isn't accepting visitors. He won't even let me in to see him, sirs; how am I supposed to make sure he's all fed and managing alright if he won't even see me…' Sam was becoming visibly distressed. Merry quickly rested his hands on Sam's forearms to try and calm him down.

'Sam, that's why we're here; to try and get Frodo to feel better. He can't go on hiding from the world, and we're going to make him see that.'

'Aye, sirs, that's good of you an' all,' Sam sniffled into his handkerchief. Merry and Pippin made their way up to the front door and were about to push it open when Sam stopped them.

'He's locking his front door now, to keep the folks away,' he piped up. The two cousins looked at each other. This was bad; no one locked their doors in Hobbiton…

'I can let you in the back way, but once you're in it don't mean he'll see you. He's got locks on his bedroom and the study.'

'Thank you, Sam. Just let us in, and we'll find a way,' Merry smiled encouragingly at Sam. They followed him round to the kitchen door at the back end of the smial, and entered.

'Sam, we will help Frodo; and he will get better,' Merry promised. Sam nodded, and hurriedly walked away, fiercely wiping his eyes.

Fearing the worst, Merry and Pippin tentatively opened the door and stepped over the threshold. They were pleasantly surprised by what they found in the kitchen; Frodo was not a slovenly hobbit, and the dirty plates he had used were stacked neatly in the sink, unwashed. What concerned Merry and Pippin was the small size of that stack - evidently Frodo was not eating.

Together they walked quietly out of the kitchen and into the long corridor. It was early afternoon, and they imagined Frodo would be in his study, studying old Elvish scripts and translating passages, like he used to. But the study was quiet, eerily so. There was no sound of ink pen scratching against parchment, or the rustling of pages being leafed through, or even the soft sigh of someone breathing. It was deserted.

Looking around the empty room, Merry and Pippin shared a dark glance. If Frodo was not in here and Sam had not seen him leave the smial, he must still be inside – and the only other logical place to be would be his bedroom. That made Merry a little anxious – Frodo must be feeling very low, if he hadn't even got himself up and out of bed.

The two padded softly along the corridor. As they got closer to Frodo's room, they could see that the door as slightly ajar. However they stilled in shock when they heard someone give a soft sigh in the room just ahead of them, and quiet footfalls could be heard. Merry cautiously approached the door and peered around it.

There was Frodo, in what Merry realised now was Bilbo's old room, wandering around and studying certain objects. He was certainly moping, Merry thought – Frodo grazed his hand across the mantelpiece shelf and softly touched the portrait of himself and Bilbo that sat in an ornate silver frame; he picked up some of Bilbo's old books and ran his hand along the spines, staring intently at the lines of script inside.

Merry turned to Pippin, and silently backed out of the doorway.

'He's in there,' he whispered, deadly silent, into Pippin's ear. Pippin nodded.

'What are you going to do then, Merry?'

'Watch,' Merry grinned at his younger cousin.

When Frodo was absorbed in gazing out of the window at the view his uncle's room afforded, Merry quietly slipped inside. He picked up one of the books lying around and opened it. He sat down in a well-cushioned velvet chair and arranged himself to look as comfortable as if he'd been there the whole time. He could see Pippin peering in through the gap of the doorway, the firelight casting a glint in his eyes.

'My dear Frodo, what are you reading?'

Frodo whipped round in alarm faster than a hound runs after the fox, his eyes wide in sudden terror – until he saw Merry calmly sitting in the armchair leafing through a book with a critical eyebrow raised at the contents of the book.

'Merry,' Frodo's voice was soft with relief that it was only his cousin, and then it developed a steely ring to it. 'What are you doing here? I don't want visitors, Merry.'

Merry looked up at Frodo. His eyes were ringed by dark circles, and his hair was unkempt. He looked haggard and slightly unwell.

'I've come to see you, Frodo! Word has it you've holed yourself up in here, and I came to make sure that you're alright.'

Frodo didn't smile; instead he clenched his fists and closed his eyes.

'Please, Merry. I really don't feel like talking. Not even to you.'

Merry closed the book with a snap, which jolted Frodo's eyes open again.

'Well, cousin Frodo, I'll let you in peace for now, but you will talk to me at some point. You can't keep yourself hidden away, and we've come to help you see that.'

'"We"? Who else is here?'

'Pippin. Frodo, really, do you think Bilbo would want you to sit around moping? He's always loved adventure; do you think that just because he's gone he'd approve of you cutting yourself off from everyone else?'

'I miss him, Merry,' said Frodo, his teeth gritted and a pained expression on his face. 'He was my family, and without him I feel… ungrounded.'

'Well, your roots are here to make you stable again,' Merry smiled. 'Don't forget you spent nine years of your childhood with us at Brandy Hall, Frodo. You were like an older brother to me.'

'I know,' Frodo whispered, and a tear fell down his cheek before he angrily wiped it away.

'Forgive me, Merry. But I can't…' he trailed off.

'Frodo, Pippin and I will go and sort out some lunch. Then we can talk,' Merry said softly. He took one of Frodo's hands, still clenched by his side, and gripped it gently. Frodo nodded, and then retreated back to the window, while Merry quickly left the room and shut the door behind him.

Outside, Merry began striding to the kitchen and Pippin fell into step with him.

'What are we going to do now, Merry?'

'We'll make lunch, get something in his belly – that always helps you feel better – and see if he's willing to come out of hiding. If not, we'll have to provoke him into it.'

'How will you do that?'

Merry grinned at Pippin. 'Test him, of course.'

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review - I want to know what you think :)