Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, Frodo, Pippin, Merry, Sam (though I’d like to), or anything else in this chapter. Except the word order. That’s pretty much mine.

Friends You Can Trust

“‘It does not seem that I can trust anyone,’ said Frodo. Sam looked at him unhappily.

‘It all depends on what you want,’ put in Merry. ‘You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin—to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours—closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo. Anyway: there it is. We know most of what Gandalf has told you. We know a good deal about the Ring. We are horribly afraid—but we are coming with you; or following you like hounds.’

‘And after all, sir,’ added Sam. ‘You did ought to take the Elves’ advice. Gildor said you should take them as was willing, and you can’t deny it.’” ~The Fellowship of the Ring, chapter: A Conspiracy Unmasked

Chapter One: It’s Coming Out in a Minute
In which Pippin makes a discovery, Merry receives a letter, and the Ivy Bush is quiet.

Merry says that I move too fast to notice subtle things. Either that or I’m too thick. I notice plenty of things, though, even if I don’t realize that they’re important. Or if I don’t understand why they’re important. But I do notice them.

It took me nearly a month to realize what was so important about Frodo’s odd behavior. He would go off into the country by himself and be gone until morning. He spent a lot of time in his study, looking over Bilbo’s old maps. He spent an awfully large amount of time with me and Merry, and even though he would laugh and smile, his eyes looked sad. It finally fell into place when I heard him whispering to himself one May evening when he was visiting the Smials. “Will I ever look down into this valley again, I wonder?” he said quietly. And I understood. Frodo, my dear cousin, was going to leave. Just like Bilbo. After he left for Hobbiton the next day, I set off for Brandy Hall, with only a few meat pies and no jacket.  Despite the distance, I managed to reach Buckland before luncheon the next day, and when the Hall came into view, I ran as if my life depended on it.  When I finally reached Merry's rooms, I was flushed and panting.  “Merry!” I gasped when I could finally speak. “Frodo’s...going to...leave!”

“I know, dearest,” Merry said calmly. “I’m glad you finally figured it out.” I gaped openly at my favorite cousin.

“You...you knew?” And you didn’t tell me?” Merry gave a half-hearted laugh and I suddenly realized that he was dressed to go out, and had a small pack in his hand and a worried look on his face.

“I didn’t know anything for sure until this morning.” He handed me a letter, written in Sam Gamgee’s sensible hand. “Sam promised a few years ago to let me know if Frodo looked like he was going to take off.” I quickly scanned the letter, then set it on Merry’s reading desk.

“But Merry, all Sam said was that you should come talk to him,” I said slowly, not sure what to think.

“Yes, but something’s worried him, Pip,” Merry snatched up the letter and pointed. “And look: it’s dated April 14th, that’s right after Gandalf came to Bag End.” He put the letter in his pocket and strode out the door. I followed him closely.

“But, Merry, why did you only just get that? It’s already May, and—”

“Look, Pip, I don’t know!” Merry paused in the doorway that lead outside. “The only way to get answers is to ask Sam. I’m going into Hobbiton tonight for Da, and I’m going to track Sam down tomorrow evening.”

“Well I’ll come too!” I happily burst out the door and climbed into the waiting cart, startling Merry’s cousin Seredic, who was holding the pony’s head. Merry ducked back inside and came out a moment later. He climbed onto the cart and tossed an extra cloak at me.

“Wear that so you don’t get chilled,” he said, a note of unwilling resignation in his voice. “Ser, could you get someone to tell Pippin’s folks that he’s with me?” Ser nodded, and with a flick of the reins, Merry and I were headed to Hobbiton. As we drove, we talked, for a while, but it was a long run from the Smials to Brandy Hall, and soon my eyes were drooping. Merry must have noticed, because he scooted me closer to him and laid my head in his lap.

“You just rest. I’ll bet you wore yourself out coming to the Hall in such a hurry.” Merry laughed softly and combed his fingers through my somewhat wild tangle of curls.

“A story, Merry?” I pleaded sweetly.

“Pippin, you silly-goose. You’re getting too old for bedtime stories.” But all the same, he began telling me of Bilbo’s adventures, and I fell asleep with his voice falling over me. When I woke up, it was dark all around, and we were just nearing the Ivy Bush, in Bywater. “We’re staying here tonight, Pip,” Merry said, seeing that I was awake again. I sat up and pouted a little.

“The Green Dragon has better rooms.”

“Aye,” Merry laughed, “But the Ivy has better beer! Besides, it’s less expensive, since I’m putting down a room for two.” He looked pointedly at me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Merry!” I rummaged desperately in my pockets. “I can pay for my own bed, truly!” But a thorough search of my pockets revealed only lint, crumbs, and a forgotten toffee.

“Oh, I was only joking, dearest.” Merry ruffled my curls. “But you must behave, understand?”

“Yes, Merry,” I nodded solemnly.

“Promise me, and promise me right,”

“I’ll be a good boy, all day and all night!” I giggled and placed a smacky, childish kiss on Merry’s cheek, sealing our childhood ritual as we pulled into the courtyard of the inn.

“Good evening, Master Merry!” Reggie Boffin called cheerily as he came out to see to the horses. “Hullo Pippin!”

“Hullo, Reggie,” Merry answered as he shooed me towards the door. “Has it quieted down?”

“Aye,” Reggie affirmed. “Most folk are in bed, but you can still put down for a room.” Merry gave his thanks and steered me through the door; I was already falling asleep again. Soon, I found myself in a room with Merry, and a dying fire in the hearth.

“Here now, sleepy-head,” he murmured, “You can sleep in an extra shirt of mine.” Before I knew it, I was bundled into my bed, and Merry put out the lights. I woke up a few hours later, after the moon had gone down. My thoughts were on Frodo, and his apparent plans, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I needed comfort, so I climbed out of my bed and slipped into Merry’s.

“Oh, dearest, what’s wrong?” Merry questioned sleepily.

“Do you really think Frodo will leave?” I asked. Merry wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead.

“He might, dearest,” he said after a while. “But not because he doesn’t love us.”

“Mmm...” I mumbled noncommittally into Merry’s nightshirt. He tucked the blanket around me and rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Go to sleep, sweet-heart,” he whispered. So I did.

((I first saw the promise ritual in Baylor’s story “I Always Know You”, from the chapter “The Tiniest of All”, and I have only borrowed it. Credit must be given to her writings, because they have very much influenced my views and portrayal of Merry and Pippin’s relationship. And a big thank- you to ALL my beta-readers! *huggles*))

Disclaimer: Sadly, Sam is not mine. *sigh* Neither is anything else. It belongs to the Professor, I’m just borrowing.

Friends You can Trust

Chapter Two: Here’s Our Collector of Information
In which Sam is uncertain, Merry already knows something, and Pippin's eyes gleam.

It didn’t feel quite right to tell Mr. Merry about Mr. Frodo’s ring. But I had promised to tell him if Frodo looked like he was going to leave. Never mind that I was leaving too. I would have gone even if Mr. Gandalf hadn’t told me to. I wrote Mr. Merry’s letter right after I found out, and meant to send it right away, but something always stopped me. But finally, I did send it, and it made me feel worse than ever.

“You’re a fool and a ninnyhammer, Samwise Gamgee,” I told myself as I started another beer at the Ivy. “‘Naught good’ll come of it’, the Gaffer’d say if he knew.”

“Oh, Sam, I hardly think that’s fair!” A laugh came from behind me. I twisted ‘round in a hurry, and nearly spilled my mug. Mr. Merry was there, a smile on his face, and young Master Pippin next to him. It hardly surprised me that Pippin was there. He had a way of findin’ out about things, and Mr. Merry could rarely refuse the younger lad.

“H-hullo, Mr. Merry,” I stammered. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Mr. Merry’s smile faltered a bit.

“Well, you can’t say that you didn’t expect to see me at all. What’s going on with Frodo?” I sighed, and motioned them over to a small booth in the far corner of the room. When they had their mugs and were sitting down, I spoke.

“Now mind,” I began, “I don’t rightly understand lots of it, and it’s a wrench to go behind Mr. Frodo’s back, but you’re his friends and he can’t do this by himself.” Pippin cocked his head.

“You’re going to have to explain yourself better than that, Sam.”

“Well, see, it all has to do with Mr. Bilbo’s ring.”

“The one that he got on his adventures?” Mr. Merry asked. “The one that turns people invisible?”

“Aye, that’s the one,” I wondered how he knew about it, and seemingly Pippin did, too.

“How did you know, Merry?” Pippin raised an eyebrow. Merry flushed a little.

“I saw Bilbo use it once. We were both walking down the road at Bywater—though I was a ways behind and he didn’t see me—and the Sackville- Bagginses turned up coming the other way. Bilbo just...disappeared all the sudden. I got suspicious, so I poked around after and got a glance at his book,” Merry shrugged, “And there you are. Anyway, Sam, continue.”

So I began. I told them everything I had overheard and learned from Mr. Gandalf since April. About the Dark Lord, and the battle, and Isildur, and Gollum. Even with my short re-telling, over an hour had passed when I finished.

“Now Mr. Frodo’s planning to leave the Shire, and me with him, to take the Ring away.” Pippin and Mr. Merry were quiet for a few minutes, their mugs unnoticed in their hands.

“But...where will you go?” Pippin finally asked, a child-like worry in his eyes. A worry that I certainly felt. I shrugged.

“Rivendell, Mr. Gandalf said.  Where Elves live.” I couldn't help but be excited about the prospect of seeing Elves, but my worries overcame my joy once again.  "But it's a fair long journey, so it seems, and through places where no one lives."

"Very well, then,” Mr. Merry nodded decisively. “Very well. Sam, you must keep me informed. When you know when you’re leaving, send word and I will come with you,” I noticed an odd light come into Pippin’s eyes, but he kept quiet. Mr. Merry’s face softened, and he smiled a bit. “I cannot let my dear cousin go off into the Wild with only you, however stout-hearted you may be.” I flushed to the tips of my ears at that.

“Well, no, Mr. Merry, I don’t know about stout-hearted. But I’d never be so cowardly as to let Mr. Frodo go into danger alone. I’ll be right glad to have you, though, if you follow me.” Mr. Merry laughed.

“I do indeed. Now off with you! We’ve kept you far later than we meant to.” So I stood off and, taking my leave, left for home. The stars seemed brighter than they had the past few weeks, and I felt lighter, somehow. But still, there was a twinge of guilt that I had told what Mr. Frodo had trusted me to keep secret, never mind that it was for his own good. As I closed the gate to the garden behind me, I silently wondered why, of all the Hobbits in the wide world, it had to be me.

((Huge thanks to Wil and Mirrie for encouraging me and pointing out certain things...like that Sam usually calls himself Samwise Gamgee when giving himself some of “the Gaffer’s hard names”. And if you would like a definitive explanation of why Sam doesn’t say “Mr. Pippin”, e-mail me: Rosie@councilofelrond.net))

Disclaimer: I do not own them. If I did, I wouldn’t use them to right a story for you, I’d use them for my own naughty purposes. *evil grin*

Friends You Can Trust

Chapter Three: Take Them as was Willing
In which Frodo makes a plan, Pippin is brave, and Merry is unwittingly usurped.

“It is awfully expensive to keep up such a large hole as Bag End. And what do I need all this space for, Merry?” Frodo leaned forward in his arm chair by the fire and looked pleadingly at me. “Will you help?” I smiled at him, hiding the conflicting emotions that were running through me.

“Of course I will, cousin Frodo! Just tell me what you need.”

“I need you to magically make Bag End smaller and more manageable!” Frodo laughed, and I did with him. “A little hole in Buckland, maybe even a house, with a nice garden for Sam, that’s all. Do you think you can find it?”

“My dear Frodo, I will have a house for you by next week, if I am not... delayed at the Smials.” I said confidently.

“Meaning young Master Peregrin, I suppose,” Frodo’s eyes shone, but whether from mirth or tears I couldn’t tell.

“Yes indeed,” I tried to stifle a rather large yawn and put out my pipe.

“Oh, Merry-lad, I’ve kept you up too long!” Frodo glanced up at the clock and stood up. “And with you making an early start and all.”

“Never fear, Cousin,” I yawned again, “I am quite able to function on low amounts of sleep.” We paused before the door of my room. Frodo looked at me for a long time, as if he were memorizing my face, and then pulled me into a tight hug. The familiar Frodo-scent of basil and vanilla-sweet tobacco washed over me, and I felt like a little child for a moment. Then Frodo pulled back and headed to his room.

“Sleep tight, Merry-lad,” he called back. I entered my cozy room, got into bed, and put out the light. Frodo didn’t realize that I knew his plan. Sam had caught me before I reached Bag End the day before and told me everything. Frodo was going to move to Buckland, on the edge of the Shire, and then, when the time came, slip away without anyone noticing. An admirable plan, to be sure, but one that I was not going to let him get away with.

Though we had talked late, I got an early enough start in the morning that - with a steady walking pace combined with a few rides hitched on farmers’ carts - I made it to the Smials by suppertime. Pippin, of course, was the first to notice that I’d arrived.

“Merry! Merry!” he burst out the door, bowling over a few of his resident cousins as he ran towards me. He reached me and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I laughed and hugged him back.

“Careful, Pip, you’re going to crack my ribs!”

“Oh, sorry.” Pippin let go, and I clutched my side and groaned in mock pain. Pippin just rolled his eyes and lightly smacked my arm. “Don’t be silly, Merry, I didn’t hurt you.” He grinned at me. “And you’re just in time for supper! Mum baked three apple pies this afternoon, and they smell wonderful!”

“Well, lead on, then!” I winked. My aunt made some of the best apple pies in the four farthings of the Shire, and Pippin and I were notorious for wheedling entire pies out of her for just the two of us to share. It looked to be a good evening.

“I thought you said she only baked three.” I commented lightly as Pippin and I took our bounty outside to eat in the cool evening. Apparently, Aunt Elgantine knew I would be stopping by, and had made two extra pies that she gave to us as soon as supper was over. And, Pippin being a tweenager and myself just recently having come of age, we figured there was enough stomach between us to hold the pies, some tarts (pilfered from under Aunt Tina’s nose), and some ale from the cellar.

“Well, I thought she only baked three. That’s how many I saw.” Pippin shrugged. “Now, Merry, tell me what Frodo had to say!” I raised my eyebrows and took a slow bite of the pie, savoring the cinnamon and buttery crust. “Merry!” Pippin pouted rather crossly, and I swallowed quickly.

“Fine, Pip, hold on to your britches!” I took a swig of my ale and sat back. “Well, Frodo’s looking to move back to Buckland, it seems, and wants me on the lookout for a place for him and Sam to settle down in.” Pippin blinked in surprise.

“You mean he’s goin’ to sell Bag End?” I nodded and took a bite of raspberry tart. “But...but... why?”

“Well,” I pulled my pipe out and lit it, “Frodo says that it’s too expensive to keep up that large of a hole for a single Hobbit.”

“But he’s got plenty of money.” Pippin laughed. “Surely he doesn’t expect us to believe that he’s run out?”

“That’s what he wants everyone to think, I’d wager.”

“So, then, he’s really selling it because...” Pippin looked at me curiously.

“According to Sam, Frodo wants a place in Buckland because it’s on the edge of the Shire, and since he has relations there, it wouldn’t seem out-of-place if he decided to move there.” I leaned towards Pippin. “He’s going to try to sneak out of the Shire, without anyone noticing.” Pippin laughed.

“Oh, that’s just rich!” he said breathlessly. “Does he think any sensible Hobbit wouldn’t notice an empty house that’s supposed to be lived in?” I smiled.

“That’s where we come in. He obviously hasn’t thought about that. I think you should stay in the house for awhile after we leave and keep up the pretense that Frodo’s still there as long as you can.” Pippin fell silent and gave me a disbelieving look. “What?” I asked, confused.

“Merry,” he said quietly, “I’m going with you.” I was taken aback, and it took me a minute to respond.

“Pip, I will not, under any circumstances, let you come.” I said authoritatively. “It’s far too dangerous, and you’re not even of age!” Pippin’s eyes glinted with determination.

“I am going.” He said. “Whether you will let me or not. If you try to leave me behind I will follow you, the only way to get rid of me would be to lock me up until you get back.” he bit his lip and looked at me seriously.

“But, dearest, it will be so dangerous...” I tried to find some excuse, some reason for Pippin not to come.

“I love Frodo just as much as you.” he said calmly. “And I understand the danger just as much as you. And I have as much right as you to make the decision to go with him. I am scared, but I’m going.”

“But...who will stay at the house?” I asked hopefully. It was my last attempt, and I felt sure it would fail, but who ever said that Brandybucks won’t try last-ditch efforts? Pippin grinned.

“I think we can find a good friend of Frodo’s who wouldn’t be even the slightest bit inclined to leave with him.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

“Surely you don’t mean Freddie?”

“Yes,” Pippin nodded. “Freddie.” I sighed in resignation. Somehow, however unwittingly and unwillingly, I had been usurped, and Pippin had taken charge.

“Well, I suppose he would work well enough, if he didn’t get nervous and tip Frodo off that we know.” I chuckled, and Pippin smiled widely.

“Freddie? Get nervous?” he asked. “Oh, heaven forbid!” And with that we both burst into peals of laughter that carried over the hill with the breeze.

((Many many MANY thanks to my dear Willow for putting up with my griping over this chapter. It was a long time coming, and a painful process, but finally here it is! I could not have done it without her support and insane IM sessions, however little they had to do with this project. *wink* Through them, I found that A) you can be creative if you have to be, especially if B) you have a down-right insane friend; and that C) I play a boy rather well, which helped this chapter come! Thank you Wil!))

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Except for a shadow of Pippin that is part of my soul and a shadow of Merry that is part of my Mer. But I don't think those count.

Friends You Can Trust

Chapter Four: Do As You Think Best
In which Freddie is given a scare, Pippin has no pipeweed, and a conspirator is gained

"I dunno, Pip, I think that if you're out of leaf that's your problem." Merry sat, smugly puffing away on his pipe, with Pippin next to him trying to look as pitiful as possible. They had asked me to meet them at the Plow and Pitchfork to discuss something important. Pippin's lack of pipeweed was certainly not what they meant, but as they were buying the ale, I decided to let them take their time.

"How about you, Freddie?" Pippin tried to hit me up. "Have you got any extra pipeweed on you?"

"No, sorry Pippin." I chewed on the mouthpiece of my empty, unlit pipe.

"Don't you remember, my dear Took? Fatty's trying to give up smoking." Merry said with a twinkle in his eyes. Using my childhood nickname (though affectionately) did not, at the moment, improve my view on my attempt.

"Bah." I snorted. "'Trying' being the important part. But it's more trying when I'm trying, if you know what I mean. Really it's closer to 'failing miserably'." I stared at my pipe for a moment and sighed. "Oh, eggshells, Merry, just give us both some leaf." Merry laughed and handed his pouch to me.

"Glad to see you can hold to your resolves, Fredegar."

"Go suck eggs, Meriadoc." I replied with a grin. We fell silent then, alternately nursing mugs of good South Farthing ale and puffing on our pipes. Pippin fidgeted in his seat.

"So," Pippin said finally, "We need to ask you for a favor."

Ah-ha, so that was it.

"I'm sorry to say that I'm quite low on money," I commented.

"Oh, no," Merry said quickly. "It's not like that. It's...well..." he paused for a moment. "Well, it started with Bilbo's adventure. He picked up, in one way or another, a magic ring that turns the wearer invisible. When he left the Shire again, at the Birthday Party, he left the ring to Frodo."

"Ah," I nodded. "So that was how he disappeared?"

"Yes. But now..." Merry trailed off, apparently unsure of what to say.

"Well, you see, Freddie," Pippin picked up, "Mr. Gandalf has found out some things about the ring since then. It was made by the Dark Lord thousands of years ago, but he was beated and the ring got lost, and then Gollum found it and had it for hundreds of years before he lost it and Bilbo found it, but now the Dark Lord is trying to find it a'cause he wasn't really beated and now it has to be destroyed so Frodo's taking it out of the Shire!" Pippin ran out of breath, finally.

"Frodo's going to Rivendell, maybe even to Mordor, and Sam Gamgee's going with him." Merry said seriously. "And Pippin and I are going, too, even though Frodo doesn't know it yet."

"In short, we want you to join our conspiracy!" Pippin declared, slamming his mug down for emphasis and sending most of his ale sloshing down the sides. I took a deep breath and a long drink of ale. I was not the type of Hobbit that would find it exciting to go on an adventure, like Merry and Pippin, though it wasn't too bad hearing about them.

"Well," I said after a moment's deliberation, "I can't say I'm keen on the idea, but Frodo is my friend. If he's going into danger, he should have friends alongside him." I took another deep breath. "When do we leave?" To my immense surprise (and slight indignation), Merry and Pippin (after gaping a moment) burst into - of all things - laughter.

"Oh Freddie!" Merry chuckled, "Oh dear, brave Freddie! We're not asking you to come with us." My relief was immediately evident to my two friends.

"What would you have me do, then?" I asked, a small laugh bubbling out of me.

"Stay in Frodo's house." Merry explained, still laughing quietly. "Keep up the impression that he's still there for as long as you can. That's all."

"That's all, indeed, Master Brandybuck," I sighed good-naturedly. "And you had me thinking you were asking me to leave! Honestly!"

"Indeed, Master Bolger," Merry mimicked my tone. "But you rose to the ocassion, if I may say so." he sent a smoke ring into Pippin's face, starting an all-out smoke war between the three of us.

"If you lads would pause in your competition," one of the innkeeper's daughters came over with another round, "Perhaps I could get you something else?"

"Ah, no thank you, Miss Diamond." Merry smiled cheerfully at the lass. "How fares your sister?"

"Oh, she's doing fine. But a bit large - she can't even bend over!" Diamond giggled. "It won't be long, now."

"Well, give your family my regards."

"Indeed. Good evening Mr. Merry. Mr. Pippin." She smiled shyly at Pippin and strolled back to the kitchen. Pippin watched her go with a sort of dazed look on his face.

"When did Dia get so pretty?" he asked. Merry and I just laughed. Merry then raised his mug with a mischievious smile.

"To conspiracies!" he said. "And pretty lasses!"

"Cheers!"

((Yay! I finally typed this and I'm SO glad! Many thanks to my Nenna for helping me with spelling, as I sometimes have questions. Or, as my beta, Wil, said: "Warning! The server to Nenna: Walking Talking Spelling Guide, may be slow or unavailable as currently the bandwidth has been exceeded due to an overwhelming demand for service."

Very funny, Mer.))