AUTHOR’S NOTES: Frodo is 23, Merry is 9 ( About 14 ½ and 6 in Man years ).  The date in the title is of some significance.

DISCLAIMER: Middle-earth and all its peoples belong to the Tolkien Estate. I own none of them. Some of them, however, seem to own me.

BRANDY HALL, 28 HALIMATH, S.R. 1391

“FRODO!”

The terrified yell was followed by the thud of a small body landing on him. Merry was sobbing and trembling.

“Frodo, please be all right.”

“There now, Merry-lad, it was just a bad dream.” At nine, Merry no longer sought his cousin’s bed whenever Frodo came to visit, but tonight he was terrified. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“You were so cold, Frodo, and so white! And I couldn’t move, and it was coming to get us. It was so wicked, and said cruel things!”

Frodo knew Bilbo shouldn’t have been telling them stories about Barrow-wights.