Chapter XII: In Need of an Explanation

Merida carefully scanned the meal that the servants were about to serve to her and her family- and especially to Frodo. A platter full of roasted meats and freshly prepared salmon was placed at the center of the table, along with some salads and vegetables.

She eyed the salmon uneasily. She didn't know what exactly Frodo was yet, but something told her that he was connected to the sea. Was her family about to unintentionally offend him by serving up a potential former pet or companion? Did he come from some place where sea life was revered like the will-o-the-wisps were here?

She held her breath, wondering if he would even notice what he was just served. She watched as her father prepared to take a hearty portion before her mother gave him a side glance and cleared her throat. The queen then turned to Frodo and gave him the warm, polite smile she always gave whenever she hosted the lairds.

"Guests first."

Frodo quietly took his portion. Merida couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief when he ate the salmon seemingly without giving it a second thought.

Elinor tried to think of something else to discuss in order to entertain her guest, but when nothing came up due to his muteness, her mind quickly turned back to her daughter's betrothal.

"Now, Merida- in light of your upcoming betrothal, I will need you to set aside several hours a day for training with me. It is crucial that you put your best foot forward for the big day."

Betrothal?

Frodo's heart sank into his bare feet at the word. As if reading his mind, Merida turned to look at him with a look of utter regret and dread, as though to say that she hated the idea as much as he did.

She sighed heavily.

"Merida, you know that it's your duty as a princess."

Fergus jumped in just in time to cut off the impending tension in the room.

"I'm sure our guest would like to hear the story about how I slew Mor'du!"

Merida grinned, incredibly relieved that her father came in and changed the awful subject.

Frodo looked up, curious.

As if on cue, Fergus enthusiastically retold the tale of how the monstrous bear had confronted him and taken his leg. Frodo listened intently. The triplets were on the brink of falling asleep from how many times they'd heard it.

Frodo's eyes lit up when Merida jumped in to the tale with no less gusto than her father. He couldn't hold back the smile that forced itself upon his face despite the broken love pangs that had overtaken his chest. The boys suddenly woke up from their bored stupor. The little princes always liked it when their older sister told the tale of Mor'du.

...

"Psst!"

Merida ushered Frodo on as soon as the meal had ended.

As soon as they were out of the sight of her parents and her brothers, she took him by the hand and led him to the stables where her horse Angus slept.

She sighed before speaking.

"I don't want to get married - especially not like this."

What do you mean?

"This wasn't my choice. My mum wants to marry me off to one of the lairds to keep the peace between the clans. She says it's part of my responsibility as a princess - "

She let out a loud, frustrated groan before continuing.

"I don't want to be given away like this!"

She stepped back, her voice breaking.

"Is this... what a princess is? Am I nothing more than a political pawn?"

Frodo stared at her, stunned. He tried again to formulate words, but they escaped him yet again. It didn't matter. He was mute. Along with the overwhelming wave of sympathy that had overtaken him came a wash of relief and hope. Perhaps, despite the prominent obstacle of her betrothal, he could at least have the chance to win her heart if not her hand. That, at least, would be a comforting final thought if he were to ultimately be reduced to sea foam.

He stepped forward, and, not knowing what else to, wrapped his arms around her and clasped her close.

Merida's eyes briefly widened in surprise, her mouth forming a small "o" before she buried her face into his shoulder and hugged him back. Frodo bit his lower lip to prevent himself from welling up at the sound of her soft, muffled whimpers. He smoothed his hand several times over the mass of fiery red curls that now spilled over both of their shoulders.

After a good long while, Merida finally raised her head and eased herself out of his arms.

"Thank you," she said, almost in a whisper before leaving the stable. For a moment, Frodo just stood there and watched her go. He was started from his trance by the sound of Angus neighing. Angus glanced at his owner and shook his head, as though gesturing Frodo to follow her.

He took the horse's implied advice and followed her out of the stable.

...

Merida was on the brink of falling asleep in her chair. Her head might as well have been an iron ball on the verge of crashing on to the tabletop before her. The only thing keeping her awake at this moment was the fact that Frodo had decided to sit with her during today's private lesson- taught by none other than Queen Elinor herself.

Frodo laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Despite doing his best to be there for her the previous evening, he could tell that she hadn't slept well. Merida was tempted to lean on his. She was just on the verge of indulging herself when the sound of the door opening with a thud against the stone wall announced her mother's presence.

The princess jolted awake. Frodo straightened and turned his gaze to the woman who had just walked in the room, as though he were a schoolboy determined to give the teacher his best foot forward.

The queen approached the desk in front of the room, which was strewn with varied old and worn-looking scrolls. She rummaged through them, her semi-aloud thoughts able to be heard through her muttering.

Once she found the one she was looking for, she straightened and held her head high, clearing her throat.

"Are you ready for today's lesson, lady and gentleman?"

Frodo nodded, smoothing a sheet of parchment and readying the quill in his hand.

"Um, yes." Merida replied awkwardly.

"A princess is always eloquent and precise in her responses," Elinor stated.

Duly noted, Frodo thought, applying the lesson to himself despite the fact that the remark was obviously aimed at the girl sitting next to him. Although it's impossible for me to speak at all at this point.

He looked down at the quill in his hand and noticed the feel of the parchment beneath his other along with the fine wood that supported it.

Suddenly, memories of writing his final entry in the red journal that he'd given to his old friend Samwise Gamgee in the well lived in study of Bag End flooded his mind - memories of himself clutching his shoulder and sitting in the very same chair that his elderly uncle Bilbo sat in so many times before. He'd just written the last words he'd ever write in Middle Earth. In his mind's eye, Sam was approaching him from behind, his face the picture of gentle, genuine concern.

"It's been four years since Weathertop, Sam. It's never fully healed."

Sam's gaze suddenly turned to seemingly complete book in front of Frodo.

"You finished it..."

"Not quite," Frodo responded. "There's room for a little more."

"Are either of you paying attention?"

In the literal blink of an eye, Frodo was back in the room where Queen Elinor was in the middle of giving him private lessons along with her daughter.

The only thing Merida was able to respond with was an embarrassing "Ummm..."

Elinor sighed at her daughter's thoroughly unconvincing answer.

"Merida, it is crucial that you have a working knowledge of the clans - especially since you'll be marrying into one of them."

Frodo frowned and placed his hand on his shoulder, just as he had done in his uncle's study in Bag End - except now the ache in his shoulder was accented with a painful love pang.

Not quite... There's room for a little more.

His own words echoed back in his mind.

Frodo looked down at the parchment before him, which was blank save for the noticeable ink blot where he'd rested his quill. His eyes opened wider as a sudden revelation donned on him.

He'd lost his voice - and his ability to sing and speak along with it when he'd given it to the witch. The unfortunate side effects of the spell he was given had also made it harder to walk.

He picked up the quill and began taking notes on the queen's lecture.

Despite his impediments, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his writing. His eyes darted to Merida, who was resting her face against her propped up hand and resembled the epitome of a bored young woman. His gaze turned back to the page before him. The ink blot had taken up a small patch of the parchment the way a small clan would claim its patch of land on a map. The rest was completely blank aside from the few notes he'd just jotted. Oh, yes - there was definitely room for more on this page.

He discreetly slipped another piece of parchment under the one he was taking notes on and glanced once more at Merida. Frodo lifted a corner of the page and wrote a brief note to her. His frown faded and turned into a quiet smile. He looked up at Elinor, making sure she wouldn't notice him tearing out his freshly written note and passing it to Merida.

Merida's gaze immediately shifted from space and onto the torn little scrap. She glanced at her mother in the same way the young man sitting next to her - with very similar intentions.

She grinned ear to ear at the note and gave him an enthusiastic nod in response.

Elinor looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow, sensing a change in mood. She primly cleared her throat.

"Are you finding today's lesson interesting?"

"Umm... yes!" Merida replied, giving her mother a polite smile whilst secretly admiring her own clever response.

"Good."

Frodo nodded affirmatively, giving the queen the mute equivalent of Merida's response.

The queen carried on with her lesson as usual. When it ended, Merida gleefully ran out the door as Frodo followed behind, a mirthful smile gracing his full lips.

Elinor gathered her belongings and carried on with her other queenly duties, not taking too much notice of the torn scrap of paper lying on the table. Little did she know that it was actually a note that Frodo had written it in the midst of his note taking - a very clever pretense indeed.

After she left the room, there was no one left to read the words that had been left in the open air. These were, in fact, the very words that had lifted the spirits of an extremely bored princess:

I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure. Care to join me?