A/N: Written for Marigold's Challenge 23. Thank you to Pipwise for the beta!

* * *

"It's not so bad, really," Pippin said as he went to open the door to the pantry. The door stuck stubbornly in its frame, refusing to budge, and the knob came off in Pippin's hand.

"It just needs a bit of work," he added, smiling brightly as he set the doorknob on the ledge of a nearby window, which promptly crashed to the floor, sending up a cloud of dust.

Frodo shut his eyes. Surely this wasn't really happening and he would wake up soon to find he had dreamed the whole thing.

"Come on, Pip," Merry said, grabbing his cousin by the elbow and steering him toward the door. "Let's get you outside before you destroy the entire kitchen."

"It's hardly my fault," Pippin protested, his voice fading as they disappeared down the hall. "My dear Merry, this place is a wreck. I don’t think Frodo likes it at all."

Now alone in the ruined kitchen, Frodo agreed. When he had told his cousins last spring that he was planning to sell Bag End, he had enlisted Merry's help in finding a suitable new home in Buckland: someplace quiet and out of the way. A place where he would not be disturbed during his retirement.

It seemed that Merry had taken his words quite literally, Frodo thought, glancing around in distaste. He certainly would not be disturbed by visitors in any of the homes they had seen today – any sane hobbit would be too terrified to come in, and if one did, he would never want to come back.

Frodo sighed. They had set out from the Hall after breakfast, embarking on Merry's grand tour of his findings. It had been nothing short of a disaster. Every smial and house was falling apart at the seams; dilapidated doors hanging off their hinges, ceilings on the verge of collapse, and floors crumbling beneath their feet. Frodo's only respite had been their picnic lunch – which had been far too brief for him to recover fully from the morning’s misadventures – before they were off again, to the next miserable place on Merry’s list.

It was odd, Frodo knew, to care so much about a home that he did not actually plan on living in, but he had to keep up appearances as well as possible, and he knew that no one would believe that he would ever leave his beloved Bag End for one of these hideous homes.

In fact, Frodo mused thoughtfully, if he had not guarded his plans so carefully, he would have wondered if Merry and Pippin suspected his intent to leave the Shire, and that this was all some sort of ruse intended to trick him into confessing everything. But he had been too careful for too long for anyone, even his closest cousins, to suspect anything.

Frodo glanced up at the peeling ceiling and shook his head, grateful that there was just one more house left to visit.

* * *

Once outside Merry and Pippin shut the creaking door behind them and sat close together on the crumbling step. Pippin leaned back gingerly, careful not to put too much weight on the flimsy doorframe, and grinned over at Merry.

"Your plan has not been much of a success," he pointed out. "Our cousin is as secretive as ever. I think Gandalf is getting to him. All those close meetings, you know."

"Well, I didn’t expect Frodo to tell us everything," Merry replied. "But I had hoped to aggravate him into telling us something, now that Sam's dried up." He sighed. "I thought the third smial would have done Frodo in."

Pippin wrinkled his nose in thought, trying to remember. All the worst aspects of each place they had visited that day seemed to mingle in his mind, creating one large, horrific home. "Was that the one with the rabbit hole in the middle of the parlor?"

"No," Merry replied. "That was actually the second place we visited. I was thinking of the one with the flooded cellar."

"Oh!" Pippin's eyes grew wide. "The one with all the fish?"

Merry nodded glumly. "That's the one."

Pippin grew thoughtful. "I don't think it would be so bad having a flooded cellar, if there were fish down there as well. You wouldn’t have to go down to the river to catch your supper; all you would need to do is stand at the top of the steps and cast down your fishing line. It would be very convenient, I think."

Despite himself, Merry laughed. "Only you would think of something like that, Pip," he said, grinning for a moment before he grew serious again. "Well, there's just one house left to show Frodo – the one at Crickhollow. It was the first one I looked at last spring, and I knew immediately that it was perfect for him. That's why I kept it for last."

"It is a wonderful house," Pippin agreed, smiling fondly. "It's too bad that Frodo won't actually be living there for good. It’s the best place for him, after Bag End, of course. I think-"

From deep inside the house came a shriek, followed by a loud thump and a long string of muffled curses.

Merry groaned and stood. "Come on, Pip,” he said, leading his cousin back into the house. “It sounds like Frodo is in some sort of trouble. Let's see what has become of him.”

* * *

The waggon rattled along, and with each jarring bump in the road Frodo cringed and clutched his ankle, now wrapped in a makeshift bandage made from their lunch napkins tightly bound together.

"All right there?" Merry asked, glancing over his shoulder. Frodo grimaced again but Pippin answered cheerily enough.

"We're just fine, Merry," he replied, smiling, before turning to Frodo. "Considering how you tripped over that chair, I suspect things could have been much worse than a twisted ankle,” he said, gently patting his cousin's hair.

"Well, I feel wretched enough right now," Frodo replied grumpily, shutting his eyes against the world. "Besides, I didn't trip over that chair on purpose." He shuddered. "Finding those hedgehogs in the closet was wholly unexpected, despite the condition of that smial. They gave me a terrible fright." Feeling the waggon jerk in a new direction, Frodo opened his eyes and craned his neck.

"Wait," he cried, looking around. They had turned off the main road and were now travelling down a quiet, hedge-lined lane. "Why are we going this way? The Hall is the other way."

"Merry said there is just one more house to look at," Pippin replied, still trying to soothe his cousin. "Don't worry, Frodo. It's not much further now."

"I'm afraid I am not feeling up to looking at any more houses today," Frodo said wearily. "I would much rather put up my ankle and have a little nap."

"You can rest just as well at this house," Merry promised. "Besides, it is closer than the Hall from here. We might as well have a look around."

"Cheer up, Frodo!" Pippin said, smiling at the miserable expression on Frodo's face.

Merry glanced over his shoulder again, wearing a matching grin. "I think you’ll like this one, Frodo. It made me think of you."

Inwardly, Frodo winced, wondering what fresh horrors awaited him at this new house and why they would ever cause Merry to think of him. He leaned back and shut his eyes tightly as the waggon rattled along.

* * *

They continued down the lane for a couple of miles, until eventually they reached a narrow gate in the middle of a hedge. Merry pulled on the reins, bringing them to a stop. "Here we are," he announced. Stomach lurching in anticipation, Frodo finally opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight.

"I remember this place," he said suddenly. He glanced around and smiled. "I haven't been here in years."

"It seems you like it already," Pippin said with a grin as he helped Frodo climb out of the waggon and limp up the well-kept path while Merry took care of the pony. "Perhaps we shouldn't bother going in, since you are so tired."

"I had better see what’s inside before I make any decisions," Frodo replied quickly, his ankle a throbbing reminder of how he had suffered today. Nonetheless, he liked the look of the place. It was just as he had remembered it: the thick hedge surrounding the house kept it tucked away from prying eyes, and yet it was not an unfriendly, forbidding dwelling. Even with the windows shuttered it seemed like a warm, welcoming place, a place where one could feel quite comfortable.

Pippin opened the door and helped Frodo inside. They found themselves in a large – remarkably dust-free, Frodo observed – hallway. Merry came up behind them and ushered them both into a nearby sitting room, where he opened the windows to let in some light and fresh air as Pippin settled Frodo in a comfortable chair by the cold, empty fireplace.

"Here, Frodo, you had better put that ankle up," Pippin said, sliding over a footstool. "Now wait here while we find you something to drink," he added, turning to leave and grabbing Merry's arm along the way.

"Something to drink? Here?" Frodo exclaimed, unable to get the image out of his mind of hedgehogs having free reign over bare and cobwebby cupboards. "What could you possibly find here?"

Both cousins stopped abruptly and turned back, clearly affronted.

"I happen to know my way well enough around this place," Pippin replied, obviously insulted.

Merry stared at Frodo as if he had grown a second head. "This is one of the Brandybucks’ best guest houses, Frodo!" he said, aghast. "Surely you haven't forgotten that. We may not have fresh milk and cream at hand, but you'll find that the larder is better stocked than you'd imagine."

Frodo hid a smile as his cousins disappeared down the hall, half-heartedly grumbling about him the entire way. With a sigh he settled himself deeper in the cushions and looked more closely around the room. There was a small bookcase in the corner, already filled with books – Frodo made a note to himself to hobble over there later and see what they were – and another chair matching his own, as well as a small, cozy sofa.

In the distance Frodo heard the muffled sounds of his cousins' voices and he sighed again, content. Somehow, it seemed as if he were home.

* * *

Merry had been so confident about the contents of the larder because he and Pippin had seen to stocking it themselves just two days before, in preparation for their cousin’s arrival. There were barrels of fresh summer fruits and vegetables as well as salted meats, shelves of jarred preserves, and sacks of flour, sugar, tea and coffee. Today, however, Merry passed them by and reached for a large bottle on the tallest shelf of the pantry.

Pippin smirked at the bottle of Buckland Brandy in Merry’s hand. “Trying to make amends, cousin? Or are you just trying to get Frodo so drunk that he forgets everything?” he asked as he took down three slightly dusty mugs from a shelf.

Merry laughed. “I thought Frodo would need something a bit stronger than tea or ale today,” he admitted.

Laughing, Pippin went to rinse the mugs; a moment later he returned with them washed and dried. “I think Frodo has found his new home now,” he said, setting the mugs on the table. “I can hardly imagine him anywhere other than Bag End, though. It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, Frodo lived in Buckland once,” Merry reminded him. “I only wish he were coming to live here for good, and not just for a few weeks.”

“Is that all, do you think?” Pippin asked in surprise. “I thought Frodo would need to stay here for a few months at least, to make plans and get ready before setting out.”

“But he can’t wait too much longer,” Merry said, frowning. “Gandalf has been urging him to leave since the spring; it’s Frodo who has been delaying things. It’s already almost the end of the summer, and if Frodo waits a few more months it’ll be winter. Besides, his business is quite urgent.”

Pippin considered this for a few long moments. “Well, at least Frodo won’t disappear like Bilbo did,” he said finally. “I like that he’s pretending to move. He’ll need us to help him with his things, and we’ll be able to watch him closely.”

“It is the perfect excuse,” Merry agreed. “And once Frodo is here, he won’t be able to give us the slip as easily as he thinks. There are only two entrances to this house, and I’ll stand guard at one and you at the other, if we must. Fatty will be a help, too. We’ll just have him sit on Frodo if he tries to leave without us.”

Pippin grinned. “And we’ll give him a horn to call us with, if Frodo gives him any trouble.”

They laughed a bit at this, but after a time they grew quiet and pensive. For several long moments Merry and Pippin remained standing there in the silent kitchen, thinking about the months ahead, and wondering where their travels would take them, and how much they truly would be able to help Frodo.

“Let them have their own plans,” Merry said at last. “We have ours. Gandalf loves Frodo, of course, but we know what’s best for him.”

“He needs his family,” Pippin added. He and Merry shared a smile at this, and then Pippin grabbed the mugs in one hand and slung his other arm around his cousin’s shoulders.

“Come on,” he said, grinning now. “Let’s see what sort of trouble Frodo is getting into now.”

Merry laughed again, and hoisted the bottle of brandy, and together he and Pippin disappeared down the hall, their minds never far from their tasks in the months ahead, but their hearts taking comfort in their love for each other, and for Frodo.