This story was written for Marigold's Challenge #12.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Merry is 19, Pippin is 11 (equivalent to 12 ½ and 7 in human maturity.)
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.

THE BRANDY HALL INCIDENT

CHAPTER 1

“I don’t have the slightest idea where we are, do you Merry?” Pippin asked apprehensively.

“Of course I do,” said Merry. “I’ve often been in these old back tunnels. Frodo and I used to explore them when I was just a little sprout, younger than you are now.” Merry spoke with the slightly superior smugness of one on the cusp of tweenagehood, confident that he has left his childhood behind.

Pippin ignored the tone. He was used to it by now, and took no offense. “What are all these for?” he asked. In the Great Smials at Tuckborough, where Pippin and his family often visited, tunnels never really fell into disuse; when new ones were dug the old ones were either converted to new uses or filled in. But here in Brandy Hall, there was this whole maze of tunnels that hadn’t been used for ages.

“Well, this part we are in now are just used as mathom rooms--all the stuff we don’t use any more, or only use infrequently.”

Pippin nodded. They had lots of mathom rooms at the Great Smials. “I’ll bet there are some splendid things down here.”

“There are,” grinned Merry. He ducked into one of the rooms at the side. “Here we are--this is the room I wanted to show you.”

Pippin’s eyes grew wide. To one side of the room were stacks and stacks of things: old furniture, chests and boxes, piles of discarded linens and clothing, and piles of what could only kindly be called junk. But on the other side a wide clear area had been made, about eight feet square. It contained two rather old and battered armchairs, whose seats sagged in an alarming state of dilapidation, two boxes, turned on their sides, and stacked to make a sort of bookshelf, complete with about half a dozen books, and a couple of flat boxes. A low table that had seen better days stood between the chairs. Everything was liberally coated in dust and cobwebs.

Merry put the lantern down on the table, and picked up one of the boxes from the “shelf”. He blew the dust off.

“What’s that?” asked Pippin.

“It’s ‘Rule the Shire’,” Merry said. Holding it out for Pippin’s inspection, he could see it was a board game. “It used to be popular years ago. It was Frodo’s when he was a little lad.” Merry’s voice grew a bit sad, as it often did when he spoke of Frodo before they had ever known him, before they had even been born, when he had his own parents and his own life.

“Anyway,” he continued briskly, “we used to come down here to get away from everybody. We’d play the games--” he pointed to the other box, which Pippin discovered held a draughts game “or Frodo would read to me.”

Merry gave him a lop-sided grin. “This is where we’d hide out when we raided the larder, or when we wanted to get out of doing work. Frodo called it our ‘retreat’.”

Pippin looked at his older cousin, green eyes alight. “Oh Merry! This is ever so grand!” He touched the dusty box Merry held. “Could we play? Is it a hard game?”

“I don’t see why not.” Merry looked around. “But first we need to do something about all this dust. We used to keep a broom and a duster handy--there they are!” He went over to the side with the piles, and retrieved a decrepit broom and a somewhat moulty duster.

They soon had cleared the little “sitting room” of its accumulation of the ages, and Merry set forth the game. He stopped when Pippin had a coughing spell. “Are you all right, Pip?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m fine, Merry, really. It’s just the dust. How do you play this?”

Soon Merry was involved with the intricacies of explaining the game, which involved tiny wood hobbits, cleverly carved, as playing pieces, little imitation coins, and dice. “You roll the dice to move around the board, and do as directed on the squares where you land. You get rewarded with the coins, which you can use to buy ‘property’; the first person to buy up all four farthings wins.” Merry frowned. “I used to tell Frodo I thought it was awfully unfair that the game did not include Buckland.”

“What did Frodo say?” asked Pippin, curious. He always enjoyed hearing Merry talk about those days before he was born, when Frodo had still lived at Brandy Hall.

Merry laughed. “He said ‘the hobbits who made the game knew better than to think anyone but Brandybucks could rule Buckland.’ And of course he was right.”

They played the game until their stomachs told them it was time for luncheon.

“Next time we come, we’ll have to bring some food with us,” said Merry.

“Can we come back after luncheon?” asked Pippin hopefully. He had been doing well on this round of the game--he already owned the Northfarthing, and had bought up about half the property of the West Farthing.

“No, I’m afraid not, Pip. I have to go see Uncle Dinodas after luncheon for lessons.”

Pippin’s face fell. He was still young enough that he only had lessons from either his sister Pearl when he was at home, or from Merry when he visited here. So far, all he’d had to do was learn to read, write and cipher. But in a couple of years, he’d have to start having some harder lessons, probably from his father, as they’d no older uncles or cousins living at Whitwell. Now that Merry was almost a tweenager, he had to have his lessons almost every day. His great-uncle Dinodas had tutored most of the younger Brandybucks, including Merry’s father Saradoc.

“That’s all right, Pippin. We’ll come back tomorrow. It’s Highday, then, and no lessons.” Merry picked up the lantern and held it up. As he did so the light gleamed briefly on a partially boarded up door.

“What’s that, Merry? Where does that door go?”

Merry glanced over at it. “Oh, that just leads into the really abandoned part of the tunnels. There’s nothing back there at all anymore. They were found to be unsafe. That’s why this whole wing is unused now.”

“Do you think maybe there could be treasure or something hidden back there?” Pippin’s voice was avid. His curiosity had been aroused.

Merry looked down at him. “Pip,” he said sharply, and in no uncertain terms, “there is *nothing* back there. It is dangerous and unsafe and a hazard. Do *not* even think about going back there. Do you understand me?”

Pippin looked up at his cousin. “I understand.” But in his mind he was thinking, I’m not promising. There might be treasure back there or all kinds of other interesting things. He was a Took, and curiosity was not an itch he liked to leave unscratched.

xxxxx

The cousins went to luncheon in the main dining hall, where they sat at one of the children’s tables and applied themselves seriously to the food.

Merry was nearly finished when he heard his name. He looked over his shoulder to see his cousin Berilac, who was a couple of years older.

“Merry, we’d better be going. Uncle will be waiting.”

Merry stood up. “I’m coming Beri.” He reached down and ruffled Pippin’s hair. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Pip.”

Pippin broke off from his teasing of little Cousin Celandine. “All right, Merry!” He turned back to the lass; it was fun watching her squirm and make faces as he described in gory detail the squashed frog he had found by the pony paddock.”--and it was flat as a griddlecake, and its insides were all oozing out…”

“Oooh, yuck!” Celandine screwed up her seven year old face in disgust.

Merry and Berilac chuckled as they walked away. “Evil-minded little beast, isn’t he?” asked Beri.

“Weren’t we all at that age?” smirked Merry. “Celly’s not half so horrified as she sounds, either.”

The two made their way to one of the upper levels, where Dinodas Brandybuck had his apartment. Berilac rapped on the door.

“Come in, lads,” came his voice.

They went in. “Good afternoon, Uncle Dinny,” they chorused.

“Take your seats. No need to waste daylight.”

The two young hobbits sat down at either end of a wide oak table that stood by the window. The room was filled with bookshelves overflowing with books and papers. The only room Merry had ever seen to compare with it was Cousin Bilbo’s study at Bag End.

Dinodas placed some papers in front of each of them. “Here is your work from yesterday, with your mistakes marked. Please re-copy it correctly. Meriadoc that is excellent work; when you finish, take down the “History of Buckland”, and read the chapter on Gorhendad Oldbuck, and then write an essay about why he changed the family name. Berilac, when you have finished your corrections, I have some sums for you to work on. You need a good deal of work on your mathematics.”

The two lads buckled down to their work in silence. Soon the only sound heard was that of pages being turned, and quills scratching on paper. Dinodas sat down in an armchair with a book, but every so often he would put it down and go to check over their shoulders, and murmur some advice or corrections. These two were his brightest students, and needed very little in the way of supervision.

xxxxx

After luncheon, Celandine’s brothers Doderic and Ilberic asked Pippin to come play kick-the-ball with them. Pippin went out with them, but the game quickly deteriorated into a row between the two brothers as to which one got to have Pippin on his team. Disgusted, Pippin solved the problem by leaving. Pippin decided cousins were better than brothers. He and Merry never had rows or quarrels. Sometimes he got cross at Merry if he treated him too much like a baby, but Merry was never angry at him--well, that one time, when he was eight, and got stuck up a tree. But he was too young then to realize what he knew now: how Merry was afraid of heights.

And they would never row over something as silly as games.

Pippin felt a bit bored. Yesterday after luncheon he’d had his fiddle lesson from Aunt Esme. But she was busy today with the head cook, planning out next week’s meals. And tomorrow there were guests from the East Farthing, so it would be Sunday before she could give him another lesson. He supposed he could go practice playing his fiddle, but so far he only knew three songs, and that got a bit tiresome after a while.

Heading back into the Hall, Pippin thought of the game he and Merry had left unfinished in the old mathom room. Perhaps he’d go back down there for a while, just until Merry got done with his lessons.

 xxxxx

Uncle Dinodas dismissed Merry and Beri as soon as they had completed their assigned work for the day. “I will see you both after luncheon on Sunday,” he reminded them. “Merry, please finish reading that next chapter in the history before then, and Berilac, I want to see those corrected sums when you return.”

As they left their tutor’s room, Berilac asked Merry, “Do you want to come down to the River with me? We’ve time for a swim before tea?”

Merry nodded. “Let me check and see if Pip wants to come; I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Beri rolled his eyes behind Merry’s back, but did not say anything. As fond as he was of Merry, he just did not understand why his cousin always wanted that child to tag along everywhere he went. But he had learned not to say anything. If Merry had to choose between young Pippin’s company and Berilac’s, he’d choose the younger every time. And Pip wasn’t so bad, really, even if he never seemed to shut up.

Merry went down to the main hall, and began asking around about Pippin.

“Oh, Merry,” said his cousin Seredic’s wife Hilda, who was Celandine’s mother, “I saw Pippin going off to play ball with Dody and Ilby right after lunch.”

Merry nodded, “That’s all right then,” and took himself off to the River to meet Beri. It was just as well Pip had found someone else to amuse himself with for a while. Berilac never said anything, but Merry knew he sometimes got tired of Pippin tagging along. Still, Merry was a bit disappointed; it was unusual not to find his little cousin waiting for him after he finished his lessons.

 xxxxx

Merry and Berilac had an enjoyable time in the water, and when their stomachs told them it was nearly teatime, they gathered up their garments, got dressed and headed back to the Hall. On the way, he saw Doderic and Ilberic.

“Dody, Ilby? Where’s Pip?”

The two of them stared at him. “We don’t keep him in our pockets, Merry,” said Doderic impertinently. “He went off on his own, right after lunch.”

“Your mother told me he was with you!”

“Well, he came out with us, but then he took off.”

Merry looked worried. That was a bit strange.

“Come on, Merry!” said Berilac, “you know he’ll turn up at tea. That lad would never miss a meal.”

Merry nodded, relieved. Pippin’s stomach was more accurate than any clock.

 xxxxx

Merry made his way to his family’s private sitting room, where they usually took tea together. Pip always had tea with them when he came to stay.

His parents were already waiting for him.

Esmeralda looked up, and said “Merry, where’s Pippin?” simultaneously, Merry asked “Mum, where’s Pip?”

The three Brandybucks looked at one another in alarm. It was unheard of for Pippin to miss a meal.

Merry pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “I think I know where he might be, Mum. I’ll go look for him.”

Saradoc nodded, and Merry turned and headed back out. He was sure that Pippin must have gone back down to the “retreat”.

 xxxxx

Sure enough, one of the lanterns kept by the entry to the back tunnels was missing. He took another and lit it and headed unerringly for the little room. He was more than a little annoyed at Pippin for this. He had really not thought the lad would come down here without him.

But when he entered the mathom room, there was no sign of Pippin--no, the game was not as they had left it. He had been back. Merry raised the lantern higher and cast its light around the room, with a sense of foreboding.

A set of dusty little footprints led directly to the boarded up door. One of the boards was pulled loose. There were no footprints coming back out.

Merry went over and bent down, stuck the lantern in and called: “Pippin! Pip!”

His heart plunged; there was no answer but echoes.

More frightened than he could ever recall being before, he turned and raced to find his father.

CHAPTER 2

Pippin sat down in the armchair and studied the game. They had left it out to finish; he did not disturb the game pieces--that would be cheating--but he did turn it around so he could see it better. He studied the board a bit; if he could just roll a five when next they played, he’d be able to purchase Bywater.

But just looking without playing was not much fun. For a few minutes, he amused himself by counting and stacking the “coins”, and pretending it was gold from a dragon’s lair. Someday, he thought, I won’t just pretend. Someday I will have an Adventure, just like Bilbo. In spite of himself, his eyes strayed over to the boarded up door.

Merry had told him no.

But he hadn’t promised.

But Merry would expect him to do as he said--he always minded Merry, though it never stopped him from wheedling to get his own way, he had never out and out disobeyed his cousin. His parents, his sisters, yes, but not Merry.

But he *hadn’t* promised. He had only said “I understand.”

Almost in spite of himself, he got up, took the lantern, and went to peer in through the gaps in the boards. He couldn’t see very far.

Maybe if he pulled one of the boards loose, he could see better. If he pulled one of the boards loose and saw something interesting, maybe Merry would come with him to explore. But he probably wasn’t strong enough to pull down one of the boards, with all those nails.

He gave a tug to the lowest one.

It came loose immediately. He almost fell over when it gave way.

Holding the lantern up, he stared into the darkness. It only illuminated things for a short distance. Maybe he’d just go in a short way. That wouldn’t really hurt anything, would it?

The tunnel sloped downward, toward a lower level, which surprised Pippin. He had thought the level they were on was the lowest. He went in about twenty feet, and looked about him. There didn’t seem to be anything of interest yet, so he went just a little further, and then realized that the passageway forked.

Which way should he go? He had completely forgotten his resolution to only go a short way, and then return and get Merry.

Pointing his finger back and forth, he recited the old counting rhyme hobbit children would say to make a choice:

“One, two, three, four, five,
I caught a fox alive;
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
I let him go again.
One will win and one will lose
A birdie says that I must *choose*!”

His finger was pointing to the left, on the word “choose”. He turned and went in that direction, feeling very much like he was on an Adventure.

______________________________________________

Merry raced through the corridors, ignoring the exclamations of protest from the adults he passed, and crashed unceremoniously into the sitting room, where his parents had already begun to take tea without waiting for the lads to return.

His father’s rebuke died unspoken as he took in Merry’s white and terrified face and the fact that Pippin was not with him.

“Da! Pip’s gone into the old back tunnels! The ones that were closed off for being unsafe!”

Esmeralda made an exclamation of dismay, and Saradoc sat forward. “How do you know that, son?” he asked sharply.

Merry took a deep breath. Voice shaking, he said “We were down in one of the old mathom rooms this morning before luncheon. I thought he might have gone back there, so I went to check. His footsteps go up to the boarded up door, and one of the boards has been pulled off.”

Saradoc stood up, and glanced at his wife. “We’ll have to see to this, Esme.”

Pale, she nodded.

“Come, Merry, let’s go get your grandfather and then you must show us this place.” He took Merry’s trembling hand and they went to find the Master of the Hall.

_________________________________________________

Rorimac was taking his own tea in his study, as he sometimes did, when there came a knock on the door.

“Enter,” he called.

Saradoc came in with Merry. Rorimac’s first thought was that the lad had done some transgression that warranted his punishment by the Master instead of his father. It had happened once or twice, after all.

But that did not explain the worry on his son’s face.

“Merry, tell your grandda what you told me.”

So once more, Merry repeated the information. “I *told* him not to go in there, Grandda, I did! I *told* him it was dangerous!” His eyes were swimming in unshed tears, and he bit his lip. He didn’t want to cry. It wouldn’t help Pip if he cried.

Rorimac stood up. “I believe you, Meriadoc,” he said gently. “Let’s go down and see what we can find out.”

Merry led the way. They went silently, Merry almost afraid to talk, lest he burst into tears. He showed them the little room.

Rorimac raised his eyebrows at the sight of the little “retreat”, but did not say anything. “Show me the door.”

Merry pointed, and they went over. Only the lowest board had been removed. Pippin’s footsteps were clear in the dust.

Saradoc reached out, and tore down the remaining two boards, and held the lantern up. The little footsteps led down as far as the light would reach.

Rorimac held up his own lantern. “Go in as far as this light reaches, and see how much further you can see.”

Saradoc walked down about fifteen feet, and held up the lantern again.

“No sign.” He called out “Pippin! Peregrin Took!” But there was no answer.

“Come back out, Sara. Merry, I want you to go and fetch your Uncle Merimac, your Cousin Seredic and your Cousin Marmadas. Tell them to come at once, and to bring lanterns and rope. A lot of rope.”

Merry flew to do his grandfather’s bidding.

_______________________________________________

Pippin had come to another intersection of tunnels. At first, he went straight on, but he did not see anything new, so he turned back and went into the turning on the right. That passageway had doors. That was promising. He went on to open the first door on the right. It smelled dank and musty, and there was *nothing* in the room, scarcely even any dust. The smell made his eyes water and his nose and throat itch. Disappointed, he backed out, though he did not shut the door.

Crossing the hallway, he opened the first door on the other side; it, too, was bare, and one section of the room had caved in. With a sigh, he retraced his steps to the spot where he had first turned, and went down the other passage. He stopped for a moment as his stomach growled. Teatime.

He started to head for the exit, then hesitated. Maybe he could take just a few moments to go down the other passage. After all, Bilbo didn’t go home just because it was teatime--and what difference would just a *few* minutes make?

He headed into the right-hand passage--just a few minutes, really. As he walked, he noticed that this passage was not dusty, and it smelled very musty indeed. In fact, the floor felt somewhat damp beneath his feet. His eyes began to burn, and he sneezed a few times.

There was a door on his right. This was it, then--Merry was probably right. If there was nothing in that room, he’d leave and go on up to tea. He was hungry anyway.

Opening the door, he held the lantern out. This room was very large--larger than the other two rooms he had explored, but just as empty, and some of the beams were broken, and one side of the room was collapsed. He waved the lantern back and forth.

And heard a sound. Something skittering in the darkness; out of the corner of his eye, he caught a slight movement! Heart in his throat, chest pounding, he backed out, pulling the door shut. Panicked, he began to run--

Further in, not out.

_________________________________________________

Once more, Merry went pelting through the Hall. He found Cousin Hilda immediately. “Grandda wants to see Cousin Seredic right away, down in the old tunnels by the last mathom room. It’s an emergency! Where is he?”

“I’m waiting for him to come in now, Merry, we were going to take tea with your Uncle Merimac.”

Merry gasped for breath. “He wants to see him, too! I’ll go let him know.”

Racing on, he got to Merimac’s apartment. It was close to his own family’s quarters. He pounded on the door, and it was opened by Berilac.

“Beri, where’s your father?”

“Merry? What in the world?” his cousin looked perplexed.

“I’m right here, Meriadoc,” said his uncle from inside the room. “Whatever is the matter?”

“Pip’s lost in the old abandoned tunnels. Grandda wants you, Seredic and Marmadas down there right away. He said bring lanterns and lots of rope! Please hurry, Uncle Mac! Pippin could be in all kinds of trouble!” He felt the tears threatening him again, and dashed them away with an impatient hand.

Merimac nodded sharply. “I will take care of it. Beri, you go back with Merry and tell your grandfather that we are on the way. Merry, try not to worry too much. I’m sure we will find Pippin soon.”

“Thank you, Uncle Mac! Come on, Beri!” He turned to run back, with his cousin right on his heels.

____________________________________________

Pippin’s heart was hammering so hard he could hear it. He stopped running as he began to get a stitch in his side. He held the lantern up. Where was he? He must have gone around several curves, for he could not see anything back in the direction from which he came. He turned around, and was going to go back, but then he realized he’d have to go past whatever it was that had made that noise. Tears sprang to his eyes, and leaning against the wall, he slid down to the floor, and cried. After a few moments, he realized he was getting damp and cold sitting there, so he sniffed, wiped his eyes, and got to his feet. He coughed a bit, as well.

Oh, lovely! he thought, now I’m getting sick on top of it. He held up the lantern once more. But he could not seem to get his bearings. Which way had he come?

Now, under normal circumstances, hobbits do not get lost underground. They have an excellent sense of direction and are not easily confused. But Pippin was young, tired, hungry and frightened. Perhaps if he could have rested and relaxed, he would have got beyond his confusion, but he was beginning to get even more frightened. And now he had no idea of which way he had come.

With a determined gulp, he picked a direction and started.

_____________________________________________

Rorimac looked at the hobbits he had summoned to help him. All of them wore determined and grim expressions.

“The reason these tunnels were closed off years ago is that they had a tendency to flood when the River was very high. It happened rarely, but it was still a hazard. A result of that is that many of the support beams and structures will have rotted; the ground has settled in many places back there, I am certain. My father always wanted to fill those tunnels in, and so had I, but we never seemed to find the right time.”

He spoke grimly. If those tunnels had been filled in they would not be having to worry about young Peregrin now.

“Saradoc has been in, and checked the footprints Pippin left. Unfortunately, he seems to have backtracked and crossed his own trail, for the footprints go in more than one direction. Saradoc will take one end of the rope, and check the branch off to the right; Merimac, I want you to take the other end and go in the opposite direction. If they have to go very far in, Seredic and Marmadas, you will have to follow and add to the rope.” He cast his glance at the anxious faces of his grandsons.

“Beri-lad, I would like for you to go up to one of the kitchens and see to having some warm drinks and some food sent down. Merry, you keep close at hand. Little Pippin will need you when we find him.”

Merry nodded; Berilac headed off to do his grandfather’s bidding.

Merry went over and slumped down in one of the armchairs; he reached over to the game, and picked up the little playing piece that Pippin had been using. He turned it over and over in his fingers. Rorimac looked at the lad with compassion. Merry was as taut as a bowstring. He hoped they found Pippin before Merry snapped.

___________________________________________________

Hours had passed.

Esmeralda, unable to stand waiting any longer, had come down, and she now sat in one of the armchairs, holding Merry in her lap as if he were half his age. He was still fingering the tiny hobbit.

Just then, Saradoc and Merimac came out, followed by the other two.

Merry jumped up, and Esmeralda stood up as well. But Merry’s eager face fell when he realized there was no sign of his small cousin.

“We came out to get something to drink and eat,” said Merry’s father. “We are fairly certain that he took the right-hand passage at the end. But there aren’t any footprints down that way; not enough dust.” He looked at the Master. “Those are the tunnels that flood. We are going to have to go deeper, Da. You will need to tie on more rope.”

Rorimac nodded. “Esme, my dear, would you go up and see if you can find us some more rope.”

She nodded, and went out.

The weary searchers drank their tea, and took a few bites of bread and cheese, and headed back into the passageway.

They had not gone very far, when they heard the awful sound of a terrified shriek echoing through the tunnels, followed by an agonized

“MERRRRYY!”

“merrymerrymerrymerry…..” came the mocking echoes.

It was only his grandfather’s firm grip on him that kept Merry from dashing in himself, though he struggled mightily.

CHAPTER 3

Pippin wearily moved along, one hand on the wall. He was so hungry, and he was coughing more. And he was very frightened.

Suddenly, he found himself at a dead end. This tunnel went no further. He turned around, and started back. Somewhere *one* of these passages *had* to lead to a way out. But he was so tired. He saw a door looming to one side. Another room. He opened it, and went in. Maybe he could sit down and rest. There was a pile of rubble and dirt at one end, with a decayed beam laying across it. Boards and lathes from the wall leaned out, looking as though they could fall at any time. He sat down by one end of the beam, and slumped against it. He started to cry; his head hurt from hunger. Why hadn’t he listened to Merry? All the wonderful Adventure he thought he would find was just--nothing.

Just then, he heard that skittering noise again. He held up the lantern. Its flicker was beginning to weaken, but Pippin didn’t want to think about that.

There were eyes looking at him. Red eyes. He held the lantern forward a bit. It was a rat.

A big one, staring at him. Another skitter, and then another. Eyes all around.

He shrieked, loudly. And for all the good it did him, he called for the person who always came for him.

“MERRRRYY!”

His scream just echoed back at him mockingly.

The rats had retreated at the first of his screams, but now they moved forward again cautiously. Terrified he scrambled back, up the rubble pile.

Dirt and pieces of wood slid back.

The boards and lathe came tumbling down, boxing him in. He suddenly found himself effectively caged. The good news was, the rats could not get at him.

The bad news was, the lantern suddenly went out.

He was alone in the utter dark.
________________________________________________

Merry jerked in his grandfather’s firm hold. “Let me go! Let me go! He needs me!”

“Meriadoc!” Rorimac gave the struggling lad a hard shake by the arm. “Stop it! You cannot go to him! We do not yet know where he is!”

Merry collapsed weeping into the strong old arms. “He needs me, he needs me, Grandda!”

“Shush, lad, now.” He began to rock him back and forth, patting his back. “You have to calm down. I do not want to send you away.”

Merry stopped crying and looked up defiantly. But before he could say anything, his grandfather repeated, “I do not want to send you away; I will not, if you will just calm down. But if you try to go in there again, then you will be taken back and locked in your room. Do you understand?”

He took a few shuddering, deep breaths, and not trusting his voice, nodded.

About that time Esmeralda returned. She had the rope; behind her came Cousin Hilda with a tray, and some more food and drink, and there were also Uncle Dinodas and Cousin Marroc with extra lanterns.

Esmeralda took in Merry’s tearful face, and summoned him to her side, where she placed a comforting arm around him. To Rorimac, she said “Here’s the rope, and I brought some more help, to spell the searchers.”

“Good thinking, my dear,” said her father-in-law. Rory looked at Merry. “You know, lad, hearing Pippin like that is not a bad thing.”

Merry looked up at his grandfather sharply. “How can you say that? He must be in awful trouble!”

“Perhaps.” The Master of Buckland shook his head. “But think about what this shows, Meriadoc. He has the use of his lungs, and he is somewhere near enough the entrance that we were able to hear him. It shows we are not searching in vain.”

Merry nodded, very slightly reassured. He had not thought of it in those terms, but his grandfather was right. Still, he could not get his mind away from the sheer terror in Pippin’s outcry. It broke his heart that his little cousin needed him and he could not go to him.

______________________________________________________

Saradoc moved methodically through the passages, the rope trailing behind him, to keep him tethered to the entrance, so that he would not lose the way. Pippin’s scream had terrified him at first. Then he hoped that perhaps they could locate him now, if they could get him to cry out again. He had given up on calling the lad’s name, but now he re-doubled his efforts. “Pippin! Peregrin!”

It was the echoes that were defeating their hopes of that, however. It had not been possible to locate from whence the outcry had come, and now it did not look as though it would be repeated.

Still, it was encouraging to know that whatever had frightened the lad, he still had the use of his voice.

And it brought tears to his eyes to realize whose name it was his nephew had called. Any other child in such a situation would have called for his parents.

It was unthinkable that they not find Pippin. If Merry should lose his cousin, they might very well lose Merry.

He heard a noise, and held the lantern out hopefully, heart leaping. But he was dismayed to realize it was just a rat. It darted away from the light.

Rats. They would have to do something about that when this was over. An infestation here could spread to the inhabited part of the smials if they did not deal with it soon. Putting it out of his mind, he resumed the weary search.

_________________________________________________________

Pippin’s scream had taken the last of his flagging energy. He had lapsed into a welcome unconsciousness afterward.

He missed hearing the sound of his uncle’s call, and the brief gleam of light as the lantern passed the room.
_________________________________________________________

To the weary searchers and helpers in the mathom room, time had ceased to have much meaning, but dawn had broken over Buckland and a new day had begun.

Esmeralda had finally coaxed Merry back into one of the armchairs, where he had huddled, silently sobbing while she soothed his brow, until he had drifted off into exhausted sleep.

Piles of blankets had been unearthed from the heap of mathoms and placed as pallets on the floor, so that the searchers could take a brief rest.

Rorimac snored lightly in the chair next to Merry’s.

Esmeralda was perched on a box, and only her precarious seating kept her from dozing off as well, for each time her head nodded, she drew up with a jerk. Saradoc lay upon one of the makeshift pallets, but sleep eluded him.

Menegilda came in just then accompanied by Hilda, and Merimac’s wife Cicely, as well as a maidservant pushing a laden tea trolley. She had brought a more substantial breakfast than the tea, bread and cheese that they had been snacking at through the night.

In addition to eggs, sausages, bacon, ham, scones, fruit, and butter, there was also the welcome smell of that exotic treat, coffee.

The smells immediately roused the sleepers.

“Coffee?” Rory asked his wife, as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Yes. I know that it is usually saved for parties and for Yule. But you know that it is very stimulating when one is tired and sleepy, so I thought that it might not go amiss to use some of it now.”

He nodded at his wife approvingly, and sat forward to take the plate and cup the maidservant handed him.

Merry’s mother handed him a plate. “I’m not hungry, Mum,” he muttered. But just then his stomach rumbled.

“Well, son, part of you is hungry. You need to eat. You will do Pippin no good by starving yourself.”

Tears came to Merry’s eyes. “Pip’s going to be hungry. He hasn’t had anything to eat since luncheon yesterday.” He tried once more to push the plate away. But his mother shook her head, so he took it, and began to pick at the food.

Once he began to actually eat, his appetite returned, and he ended up cleaning his plate. But he had no interest in seconds.

Esmeralda was worried. Merry normally ate three servings at a meal. He was going to make himself sick at this rate.

______________________________________________

Milo Burrows drove the pony-trap over the Bridge. He and his brother Aldo were on their way to Brandy Hall for a bit of business, and he had brought along his wife Peony. It was a chance for her to get away from their active children, whom they had left in the care of her sister. He turned his head and grinned at the fourth passenger.

“They are going to be quite surprised to see you there today,” he said.

“Well, I am surprising myself a bit as well,” said Frodo. “But when I stopped by to see you on my walking trip, I could not pass up the chance to drop in and see Aunt Esme, Uncle Sara and Merry. I can count on Merry at any rate, to be glad to see me. I had no idea that you were heading this way.”

He sat back and closed his eyes, enjoying the early summer sun on his face. Bilbo had been very busy with some mysterious preparations for his upcoming party this fall, which he had decided was to be especially magnificent. He had encouraged Frodo to take one of his little walking journeys.

Frodo had no intention originally of going to Buckland, but when he passed near Frogmorton, he decided to pay a courtesy call to his cousins Milo and Peony Burrows, only to find out that they were preparing to leave for Buckland. On impulse, he asked to join them. He usually visited only in the late fall, and Merry and Pippin had just concluded their annual springtime visit only a few weeks before. They would be mightily surprised to see him. He grinned in anticipation.

“Well,” said Peony, “with the good time we are making, we should be at Brandy Hall in time for luncheon.”

______________________________________________

Esmeralda had made Merry lie down on one of the pallets, with the threat of making him leave if he did not, and though he resisted, he had done so, finally falling into a light and uneasy doze.

Saradoc had rejoined the searchers, his energy renewed by the meal and the coffee.

She sat in one of the old chairs, exhausted. She had been putting it off; if they had not found Pippin soon, she was going to have to ask Rory to send a messenger for his parents. She dreaded the thought of what she could possibly say to Paladin and Tina.

Just then one of the servants came in, looking for her. “Mistress Esmeralda, your guests from the East Farthing have arrived, and I didn’t want to send them up to your apartment with you not there.”

Esmeralda sat up with a start. She had forgot completely that the Burrows were supposed to arrive today. “Where are they?” she asked.

“We are right here, Esmeralda,” said Milo, coming in behind the servant.

“Hullo, Aunt Esme,” said a familiar and welcome voice solemnly. “They told us about Pippin. How can we help?”

Merry sat up instantly. “Frodo!” With a great cry, he sprang across the room and into his older cousin’s arms. “Oh, Frodo!”

He was sure things would be all right now. Frodo was here.

_____________________________________________

CHAPTER 4

Merry clung to Frodo, trembling. His cousin held him tightly, patting the lad on the back, and dropping an occasional kiss on the sandy curls, while the story poured out of him. Frodo let the words wash over him, not truly listening, for he had already heard the most important fact from the servant who had showed them in.

Until he heard the words “--and it’s all my fault!”

He pulled Merry back and looked him in the eyes. “Why would you say that, sprout?”

Merry did not even notice the use of the old baby-name Frodo’d had for him, something that in recent years had made him bristle.

“Because I brought him down here in the first place!”

“Merry!” Frodo’s voice was stern but fond. “How many times did I bring you down here?”

“I don’t know, I never kept count, but a lot of times.”

“And it never occurred to you to go back there into the closed off tunnels, did it?” Merry shook his head. “And if it had, and I had forbidden it, would you have disobeyed me?” Again, a shake of the head. “I am sure you warned Pip to stay out of there.” An emphatic nod. “Did you have any reason to think that he would disobey you?”

Merry’s head shot up. “No. No,” he said slowly, “no, I *trusted* him He’s never disobeyed me before.” A slight glint of anger appeared in the smoky grey eyes. “I trusted him with our special place, Frodo.” His face fell. “He’s been missing since just after luncheon yesterday. I’m so afraid for him.”

Frodo sat down in one of the old chairs, and drew Merry into his lap, though he was very nearly too large for that anymore. “Merry, what is the rule about someone who gets lost in the Old Forest?”

“We search three days, hoping to find them alive and well. We search three days thinking to find them injured or ill. We search three more days in case the first six were not enough. And then we search three days for—“ his voice dropped to a whisper, “the body.”

“But you see, Merry, that this is very much a similar situation. And we have not even searched the first three days yet. It has only been one day, so far.”

Milo had been speaking with Saradoc, finding out what the situation was. “Of course, Aldo, Frodo and I will help in the search,” he said.

“I know that you will.”

Rorimac came up to his son. “We are going to have to change our approach to this search. I have sent Dinodas after the old plans of the smial, that includes these tunnels.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Uncle Rory,” said Milo. Though he was a Burrows, his mother had been one of Rorimac’s sisters.

Frodo, having calmed Merry, left him to speak to the others. “I want to help in the search as well, Uncle.”

Rorimac nodded at him. “I know you do, lad. And we will resume the search soon. But we are going to need to do it in a much more methodical way, if we hope to have any results.” He looked over and summoned his daughter-in-law. “Esme, dear, would you please see that every possible spare lantern or lamp in the Hall is brought down to us?”

“Certainly I will.” And she left to do his bidding.

Merry got up and came over to lean against Frodo’s side. Frodo draped an arm about his young cousin’s shoulders. “Frodo, why aren’t they looking?” he asked.

Rory glanced down at his grandson. “We are still looking, Merry. Merimac and Seredic are in there right now. But we will need to change the way we are looking, since we have not yet found him.”

“What are you planning, Uncle Rory?” asked Frodo.

“As soon as Dinodas comes back with the plans, we will know just how extensive an area we have to search. Then we are going to send in two teams of two searchers together, and the rest of us will begin passing in lanterns and lamps. We will place one in each room as we come to it, and then search the rooms as they are lit. I am hoping that the extra light will make it easier.” He turned to his son. “Sara, has Dodinas Younger returned?”*

Saradoc’s cousin Dodinas (called Younger, as he was named after his father) was a healer, one of the few male healers in the Shire or Buckland.

He was the family healer for most of the residents of Brandy Hall. He had gone to Bree to pick up some special herbs that he had ordered.

“He is due to return today, Da. I can check and see if he has arrived.”

“Please do so. I want him on hand. I am very much afraid young Peregrin will at the very least be ill from lack of food and water when we find him.”

Merry made a tiny whimper, but he bit his lip and kept silent. He did not want to be sent away from the discussion. He very much wanted to know how they were going to find his Pippin. Frodo gave his shoulder a squeeze.

_____________________________________________

Pippin woke for a few moments. It was dark, and he was so uncomfortable. It took him a few seconds to remember his situation, and the tears began to run down his face. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was so very thirsty. He shifted his position, and dirt and stones rattled, sliding down from the rubble on which he lay.

The slight noise sounded like thunder in the silence.

He wondered how long he had been here, and whether anyone would know where to look for him. He was sure they would search for him, but how would they know where he was? Merry had told him to stay away from here, and he’d have no reason to believe that Pippin had not listened to him.

Oh, Merry, he thought, I’m so sorry. He sobbed as silently as he could, until he once more fell asleep.

________________________________________________

Uncle Dinodas returned to the small room with an armload of rolled up papers. He moved the game quickly from the table on which it still lay, and spread out the first of them. Rorimac and the searchers came over to see what he had found.

They looked at it, and Saradoc pointed to several areas indicated on the plans.

“We have searched here, here, and here fairly thoroughly already. Here, here, here and here, we have only searched fleetingly--those areas need to be checked more carefully, especially as Pippin may not be able to call out, if he is sleeping or unconscious. I do not believe--” and he ran his finger over a wide area on one side,”--that we have searched any of these tunnels or rooms at all. I had no idea that these old tunnels were so extensive.”

Rorimac shook his head. “Nor I. This portion of the delvings were abandoned several generations ago.

"According to what my father told me, they were some of the earliest parts of Brandy Hall. After a very wet spring one year, parts of them were flooded. Attempts were made to find ways to keep the water out, but every few years, parts of that area would flood once more. So it was decided to abandon them. By that time the more recent areas had begun to be dug out. I do not know why they were not filled in at the time, but it’s not so easy to fill in abandoned tunnels when they are this large.”

Merry had wormed his way up next to the table in front of his father, so that he could see the map of Brandy Hall as well. He was very fond of maps and he had never seen this one before. His eyes widened in dismay as he realized what a huge area was left still to be searched. He glanced up at his father’s face. He wanted to beg to be allowed to join the adults in their looking, but he knew they’d say ‘no’, and he might even be sent away if he tried.

Then his mother returned, carrying a large box filled with lamps and lanterns. “This is just the first load.” She gestured, and three servants came in with three more boxes, just as large. “There is one more box at the entrance to this level.” She looked at Merry. “Merry, could you fetch it for me?”

Happy to at last be doing *something* to help, Merry dashed off. His mother watched him go. “That is the first time he’s moved from this room since he brought us down here. I’d like him to go to his room for a bit of rest, but I don’t believe he will do it.”

Frodo looked at her. “Aunt Esme, I will try to persuade him. But he’s going to need to feel useful afterward, or he will never agree to it.”

Merry’s parents and grandfather exchanged a look, and then Rory said, “I think I know what he could do. If you can get him to take a break now, Frodo, I will be very grateful.”

________________________________________________

Merry grabbed the box of lanterns. It was not quite so large as the ones the servants had carried, but it was still awkward, and there would be no running to take it back. He carried it carefully, having to stop every few steps to shift the box into a more comfortable position. It was with a sigh of relief that he brought it into the room and put it on the floor with the others.

“Meriadoc.” His grandfather called him.

“Yes, Grandda?” He looked at Rory warily.

“It is going to be quite some time before we are ready to start the next phase of the search. We want to be very organized, and as it looks to be a long night, we will have supper first. I have a job for you to do: we will need someone to fill the lamps and carry them in to the searchers. I think that you could do this. But it will be a long and hard job. Do you think you are up to it, lad?”

Merry’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, yes, Grandda!”

Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. “In that case, you need to get a little bit of rest. Why don’t you come up to the apartment with me, so you can wash up and have a bit of a kip before supper? I promise I will not let you sleep too long, and that you will not miss anything that happens.”

Merry looked up into his older cousin’s blue eyes. Frodo gave a little nod. He had never yet broken a promise to Merry, and he was not about to start now.

“All right.” But he was not happy about this.

________________________________________________

They went up to the family apartment. Instead of going to Merry’s own room, they went to Frodo’s old room, which was always kept ready for his visits. He had not been expected, so there was no water in his ewer. Frodo took it and went to fetch some. He was soon back, but while he was gone, Merry had sat upon the bed, and was now crying.

Frodo sat next to him and took him in his arms, and let him weep. When he began to subside into little hiccups, Frodo said “Why don’t we let you wash up now?”

Merry took up a flannel that lay folded on the washstand and washed his face and hands. Then he let Frodo persuade him to lay down on the bed. Frodo lay down alongside him, and smoothed his brow until he fell asleep.

Frodo, on the other hand, lay wide awake, thinking about poor little Pippin, alone in the dark.

_______________________________________________________

“Merry?” Frodo gently roused him. “Your mother has had supper sent up on a tray. She’s in the sitting room, now. As soon as we’ve eaten, we can go back down.”

Merry sighed and nodded. He did feel a bit better for the sleep.

He joined his mother and Frodo, and they had a light supper: chicken soup, bread, cheese and as a treat, strawberry pie. Frodo and Esmeralda had tea, but there was a cup of Merry’s favorite beverage, cold buttermilk, for him. He only ate one serving of everything, for he still had not much appetite. Every bite he took made him think of poor little Pippin hungry and thirsty in the dark. Even the strawberry pie did not have much flavor. Still, his mother was pleased to see that he did eat all of what he took on his plate.

They ate quietly, without much conversation, and when they finished, Frodo put the soiled dishes on the tray and set it in the hallway for the maidservant to retrieve.

“Merry, it’s a bit damp in those tunnels. You’re going to need a light jacket,” said Frodo.

Merry went to fetch his jacket without a word. Esmeralda watched him with worried eyes. “Thank you, Frodo. I don’t know what we’d have done with him if you had not turned up.”

“It was just an impulse, Aunt Esme. But I’m glad to be here. Are *you* all right?”

Tears swam in her green eyes. Not for the first time, Frodo was struck by how much she and Pippin looked alike. Some people, meeting them the first time, often thought she was Pippin’s mother rather than his aunt.

“We have to find him, Frodo.”

“We will Aunt Esme. I’m sure we will.”

Merry came back, buttoning his jacket, and he and Frodo left to return to the search.

___________________________________________________

Not only Merry was to help with the lanterns; Berilac was also going to help. The lads were to fill and light them one at a time, and carry them in to the parties of searchers. This time, two would search together, and they would carefully inspect every corner of each room as they came to it, in case Pippin was asleep or unconscious in a dark corner of some room they had already searched. There would be teams of two going down each tunnel, so when a tunnel branched, two more would go in, and search the branching tunnel.

There was not much talking or conversation. It was the beginning of a very long night, and no one wanted to give voice to desperation.

Moving carefully, so as not to spill or douse the lantern, Merry carried the first one in, going to the right, and giving it to his father and Frodo, who were searching together. Then he turned and went out, and fetched another one to them, as they placed the light in the first room they had found.

Both of them also carried lanterns, and they went all around the room, before going out, and leaving the lantern Merry brought them in the doorway. Then they went on to the next room.

It was a slow and tedious task. Fetch a lantern and go a little further in.

The night wore on.

____________________________________________

*The healer, Dodinas Brandybuck the Younger, is a tribute to Ariel’s wonderful story, “Fear”. Though he is not actually the same character, the name is used with her permission.

CHAPTER 5

The constant going back and forth for hours on end had finally wearied Merry to the point that he was willing to admit he needed rest. His father and Frodo were also tired. They came out of the tunnels, and found Esmeralda waiting for them with food and drink. Other searchers went in to take their place, knowing that they would begin the search where the light left off.

“Where’s my father?” Saradoc asked his wife.

“Menegilda came and fetched him away about an hour ago, insisting he go and rest a while. And I am going to insist on the same for the three of you.”

Merry started to cry softly. They should have found Pippin by now. They had been looking forever. He didn’t care if someone thought he was being a baby for crying, he was so tired. He did not even know which of his family picked him up and carried him over to one of the pallets. But when the familiar form lay next to him, he realized it had been Frodo.

He could hear his parents talking softly.

“It’s nearly morning, Esme.”

“I know. Sara, when Rory comes back, I am going to ask him to send for Paladin and Tina. We can’t wait much longer for that…”

But he was too tired to listen further. As he drifted away into sleep he thought, stupid little hobbit, why did he have to go in there? Why?

____________________________________________

Pippin stirred, coughing. Where was he? Why was it so dark?

Then he remembered. He was so thirsty. His head hurt; his stomach burned, he was so hungry. He tried to sit up, and couldn’t. He felt around him, and touched the roughness of the boards and lathe that had surrounded him.

He coughed again, and then started to cry. He was going to die, here all alone in the dark. He just knew it. What would it be like to die? He thought of Merry, and his parents, all sad because he was gone forever.

He wished he could go back to sleep again, and get away from the horrible thoughts, but now he was afraid if he did he would never wake up again. And he’d be here forever, and no one would ever know.

And what was that sound? Were the rats returning? His terror overcame his despair, but he was too weak to scream.

______________________________________________

It was mid-morning when Merry woke up again. He no longer felt so tired, but he was still horribly discouraged. In just a few hours, it would be two whole days since anyone had seen Pippin. He turned and sat up at the touch of Frodo’s gentle hand upon his shoulder. His cousin held out a mug--it was warm milk, sweetened with honey and cinnamon, and he sipped it gratefully.

“Are you up to continuing, Merry?” Frodo asked softly.

Merry nodded. He got up and went over to where the lamps had been. But they were out of lamps and lanterns, and were now on candles.

Frodo and Saradoc took several unlighted tapers with them, as well as a lighted one apiece, and started in. Merry picked up another bundle and followed. They retraced their steps through the areas that had already been searched, until they came to the darkened tunnels that had not.

Merry took the tapers as they were lit, and found cracks or crannies where he could place them, then would move forward to join his father and cousin once more.

Suddenly Frodo stiffened, and held his candle up. So far they had been needing to open doors to search the rooms, but just ahead-- “Uncle Sara, is that door open?”

Saradoc looked startled. He had been distracted by thinking of the signs of rats he kept coming across. Several times he had heard the animals skittering away as their lights approached. He had held his tongue. It didn’t do to think of little Pippin troubled by rats. And if the thought had not yet crossed Merry’s mind, he was not going to put it there.

The two searchers darted ahead. Merry was trying to place a candle in a crack that was too large. The candle just would not stay upright, and there was no smaller or more suitable spot to wedge it nearby. He saw them speed up, and forgetting about standing the candle in place, he snatched it up to follow.

Half a dozen large rats scattered at the approach of the light, one of them darting past Merry’s foot, startling a cry out of him as it passed.

They heard the whimper, and the slight cough, before they saw him.

“Pip!” Merry cried, dashing into the room past his father and Frodo. All of them held the candles aloft and glanced about the large room. It was large and barren, making it hard to tell from which direction the sounds came.

Then the light from Frodo’s candle caught the edge of the rubble pile.

“M-mer?” came a weak little voice.

“I’m here Pip!” Merry called.

“Pippin, can you come to us, lad?

Frodo’s light finally found the area near the top of the pile. “He can’t move, Uncle Sara--see?”

Two broken boards, leaning against one another over Pippin’s head were supporting a framework of lathes, which were also partially supported by the broken beam. Any sudden movement was likely to dislodge the whole structure down upon Pippin’s head. Even his slight stirring caused one of the boards to shift.

Merry stood there, pale and trembling. They had found him alive, but they couldn’t get to him easily.

“Pippin, be still, dearest!” called Frodo.

Saradoc shifted his candle about, and then picked up another broken board. “If we can wedge this up between the front two boards--”

“--it should support them enough to get him down.” finished Frodo. “Here, let me try.” For it was clear that the pile of dirt and stone would not support Saradoc’s greater weight.

Frodo took the board, and set foot on the edge of the mound of debris. Dirt, stones and small pieces of wood came pelting down. “I’m afraid even my weight is too much,” he said.

“I can do it,” said Merry.

Saradoc looked at his son’s set face, and nodded. “Go ahead. Frodo, don’t hand him the board until he gets up there.”

Very slowly and carefully, Merry began to clamber up; there were splinters of wood and old nails sticking out, and he had to rely on the candles that his father and Frodo were holding. Finally, he was nearly up to where Pippin lay trapped. He planted one foot onto a sizeable piece of rock that seemed to be fairly well lodged in place. He put one end of the board there, holding it in place by the side of his foot, he wedged the other end up between the lathe and the two supporting boards. The whole structure shifted slightly, and he stopped, holding his breath. Carefully, he took his hands away. It held.

Pippin’s eyes glittered in the candlelight, and Merry could see he was pale and bruised. “’m glad you’re--not--a rat,” the lad said breathlessly. He coughed.

“Sshh. So am I. Be still.” With his hands, he broke away part of the lathe, and reaching through the framework, tucked his hands up under Pippin’s armpits and pulled forward. Pippin slid free, but so did everything else.

With gasps of horror, Saradoc and Frodo watched as the whole flimsy stack of debris collapsed. But somehow, Merry, holding firmly to Pippin, skidded down the outside of the falling mass, and rolled to the floor.

A quick check showed that the lads had suffered no more than small abrasions in their fall.

Saradoc took Frodo’s candle. “Frodo, there is plenty of light lining the way back. Take Pippin and go as fast as you may!”

Frodo nodded, and Merry reluctantly let loose his grip on Pippin. With the little Took bundled protectively in his arms, Frodo raced down the tunnel, back the way they had come.

Merry looked up at his father. “We found him,” he whispered.

“We did. I am very proud of you, Merry. You kept your head.”

“I’m so tired, Da.”

“I know, son.” He picked Merry up. “I’m carrying you out.”

Merry had no intention of arguing. He was weary to the bone.

_________________________________________

Rorimac looked at the white face of his daughter-in-law. “All right, Esme, you are right; I will send for your brother now.”

“I know you wanted to wait a bit longer, Rory, but really, Paladin and Tina have the right to know. I hate to send bad tidings as well, but--”

Just then, Frodo burst through the entrance, calling “We have him! And he‘s alive!” Esmeralda turned to see the limp form of her little nephew in Frodo’s arms.

With a glad cry, she reached for him. Heaving for breath, Frodo passed his burden over.

“Dody!” Rory called out to his nephew the healer.

Dodinas, who had been speaking with Merimac turned to see they had found the lost lad. He went over and took Pippin from Esmeralda, and laid him down upon one of the makeshift pallets. He took off the torn and soiled little shirt, and placed his ear to Pippin’s chest. Pippin gave a little cough. Then the healer took his small fingers in his and examined his hands, and pinched the skin on the back of his wrist. Finally, he took off his pendulum--a piece of amber, set in copper wire, and hanging from a cord of leather, and dangled it over the child’s prone form. He breathed a sigh of relief at the calm circular patterns it made in most places.

“We need to get water and nourishment in him right away. Water, juice and broth, a little at a time, but as much as he will take. He has a bit of a rattle in his chest, but it is not deep or settled. I think it mostly a reaction to the moldiness and mustiness of the air in there. As soon as he’s had a bit of water--thank you, Frodo--” he held Pippin up, holding the cup to his lips, as the little one took thirsty sips. “Easy, lad, easy. Not too much at one time, now.” When Pippin had finished drinking, he lay back down. “As I was saying, take him upstairs and give him a warm bath. I want to check his scratches, and put an astringent on them, to avoid infection. I’ll bring a tonic for the cough, as well. Pop him into bed, and start making sure he drinks plenty of nourishing fluids. He is probably going to spend a couple of days a-bed.”

Just then Saradoc and Merry exited the tunnels. Merry hurried over to where Pippin lay.

“Is he going to be all right, Cousin Dody?” he asked anxiously.

Dodinas placed a reassuring hand on Merry’s head. “Yes, Merry-lad, he’s going to be fine.” He looked down at Merry. “You need to take a bath as well. You have some cuts and scrapes too, I see. I’ll tend them also.”

Merry flushed. He had not even noticed them.

Frodo picked Pippin up gently, and he, Esmeralda and Merry headed back up to their own quarters. Saradoc lingered. He wanted to talk to his father about the rats.

CHAPTER 6

Now that they had found Pippin, and knew he would be all right, Merry was very quiet. A feeling that he had not wanted to acknowledge was coming to the fore. While Pippin was still in danger, he had pushed it to the back of his mind, but now he could not help but to admit it to himself.

He was furious.

Pippin had endangered himself, could have lost his life, because of his curiosity. He had disobeyed Merry, and gone where he had been told not to go. Two days of fear and misery, because of it. Two days of wondering if Pippin was alive or dead. And worst of all, was the feeling that he could not trust Pippin anymore.

He went into his room without speaking to anyone, and got ready for his bath.

His mother knocked on his door. “Merry, do you want to take your bath with Pippin?”

“No. I’ll wait.”

Surprised, she said, “All right. I’ll be finished with him in about twenty minutes.”

Merry did not think he could stand to be around Pippin right now. Not with this feeling of anger, sitting like a great heavy lump in his stomach.

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Cousin Dody had tended Pippin’s scratches, with something that stung at first, but then made them feel better. Pippin had taken another cup of water, and a cup of fruit juice, and was then spoon-fed a bowl of chicken soup by his relieved Aunt Esme. He had not been so eager to take the tonic that the healer brought, but under Dody’s stern eye, he wilted, and with a wry face, swallowed it down.

Merry had come out of the bath, and had his own scratches tended to. Then he had retreated to his own room and gone to bed.

Esmeralda and Frodo fussed over Pippin, and tucked him up. But the lad kept looking past them, seeking in vain for the beloved face and grey eyes. “Where’s Merry? I want my Merry!”

His mother and Frodo exchanged a puzzled glance, wondering themselves at the absence of the usually solicitous Merry. Esme went next door to Merry’s room and knocked softly.

“Merry? Merry, Pippin’s asking for you.” She cracked the door slightly and peered in.

But Merry was turned towards the wall, and he pretended to be fast asleep. Esmeralda shook her head, perplexed, and went back to Pippin.

“I’m sorry, Pippin, but Merry is asleep right now.”

Pippin looked disappointed, but he was drowsy and sated from the first nourishment in two days, and he allowed his heavy eyelids to close, as he drifted off to sleep.

Merry lay awake for a very long time, trying to sort through his feelings of resentment and betrayal. He had never been this angry at Pippin before in his life, and the unaccustomed emotions twisted in his stomach and made him feel sick. Finally, sheer exhaustion caught up, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

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Later that night, Pippin awakened. At first, the dark frightened him, remembering. But he knew he was in his bed in his aunt’s apartment, and he soon calmed the hammering of his heart. He climbed out of his bed and padded into Merry’s room, and made his way into Merry’s bed.

Merry woke up. He stiffened, but lay still, and didn’t say anything. As soon as Pippin was asleep, he got out of his own bed, and made his way to Frodo’s. Frodo didn’t wake up. He seldom did when Merry joined him, but would automatically turn in his sleep to put a protective arm over his younger cousin. Merry finally relaxed in Frodo’s presence.

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The next morning, he felt persistent little hands, pushing at him. “Merry! Merry! Wake up.” He ignored it.

Frodo sat up. He could see Merry’s eyes were squinted shut and he was biting his lip. For some reason, Merry was turning his back on Pippin.

Pippin gave another impatient push. Exasperated, Merry twisted over, glared at his younger cousin, and then twisted back.

Pippin took a step backwards, frightened at an expression of fury that he had never before seen aimed in his direction, and cried “Merry!”

Without turning over again, Merry spoke his first words to Pippin since he had been brought out of the tunnels. “Go away!”

Frodo was shocked. What on earth had got into Merry? He had never heard Merry speak to Pippin that way before.

Pippin burst into tears.

“Leave me alone!” Merry shouted. He jumped from the bed, and fled back to his own room, slamming first one door and then the other, behind him.

Frodo took Pippin into his arms to comfort him.

“Merry hates me!” he cried.

Frodo rocked Pippin back and forth, patting his back. “Merry doesn’t hate you, Pippin. Truly he doesn’t. But you frightened him very badly.”

“I frightened *me*, too, Frodo,” he sobbed. “I’m really, really sorry! I am!”

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Esmeralda saw Merry shoot into his room and heard the bang of the door.

She pushed open the door and went into his room without knocking. He had thrown himself on the bed, and was weeping his heart out into his pillow with great gulping sobs.

She sat down next to him. “Merry, what is the matter? Pippin is safe now.”

Merry did not at first answer, but she persisted. Finally, he turned over and burst out: “Until the next time he does something stupid! I *told* him not to go in there! I trusted him with mine and Frodo’s special place! I trusted him to do what I said! I can’t trust him anymore! What if the next time, he is hurt really bad, or even dies, because he would not listen to me?”

Merry sat up and looked his mother in the eye. “How can I bear to be around him, when I might lose him again?”

“Oh, Merry!” she said, and enfolded him in her arms. “Can you truly say you don’t want to be around him ever again?”

Merry was silent for a moment, contemplating the idea of being without his Pippin. But he was too near having come to that already. It could have happened. It very nearly did happen.

“Maybe it would be better. He doesn’t listen to me anymore. How would I keep him safe?” For that was what lay at the root of his anger--the feeling that he had failed to keep Pippin out of danger.

Frodo and Pippin stood in the half-open door. Pippin’s little face was ashen. He raced over to the bed.

“Merry, please don’t hate me! Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t *mean* to disobey you! Oh, please, please love me again!” He put out a trembling hand, but did not quite touch his cousin, afraid it would be rejected if he did. The tears rolled down his face.

Merry stared at him. This was not like the mock sad faces Pippin made when he wheedled; this was true misery, and he couldn’t stand the sight of it on his little Pippin’s face. His anger broke and melted. He reached out and took the hand with both his own. “I still love you, Pip. But don’t scare me like that, ever again--please.”

“Oh Merry, I’ll try ever so hard not to scare you again.”

Pippin leaned into Merry’s embrace, and Esmeralda and Frodo exchanged relieved glances, glad that this storm was finally over.

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The next day, Merry was sitting on Pippin’s bed with him, telling him silly stories. He had reduced his cousin to helpless giggles with them, when Frodo entered the room, carrying a familiar box.

“Hullo, cousins.” He held the box out. “Anyone up for a game of ‘Rule the Shire’?”

Merry and Pippin grinned at one another. “Of course,” said Merry, “but you know Brandybucks are the masters of that game!”

“Only Tooks can ‘Rule the Shire’!” Pippin crowed.

Frodo sat down and placed the box between them on the bed. “Well, why don’t we just see how well a Baggins may fare?”

THE END