Many hugs to shirebound for betaing!

A Merry Beginning

It was exceptionally warm in the huge bedroom. A crackling fire flickered in the hearth, the flames dancing in honour of the newly minted parents and their child. Esmeralda lay half asleep in her bed, some of her brown curls still sticking to her forehead, when their first guest arrived. Saradoc sat beside her, propped up against the pillows. He held his newborn son in his arms, almost bursting with pride when he gave his fosterling a warm welcome.

Frodo shuffled tentatively to the bed, his eyes more on Esmeralda than on Saradoc, as if he were not sure whether he could really risk disturbing them. Yet he left behind some of his doubts when his foster mother greeted him with a friendly smile and bid him sit down on the bed.

Frodo accepted the offer thankfully, for this gave him an opportunity to peek curiously at the little bundle in Saradoc's hands. His cousin, though, had other plans. Before Frodo even got more than a brief glance, the older hobbit smiled broadly at him and instructed: "Come, sit closer. You must be very careful when you hold him."

Frodo hardly dared to breathe as Saradoc gently placed the sleeping bundle in his hands. "Here, support his head."

For a second it seemed as if the infant were about to protest, his tiny hands struggling and his brow furrowing, but before a sound left the slightly parted lips, sleep claimed him again and he settled against his cousin.

"He's so small," Frodo marvelled, almost trembling with awe.

Saradoc smiled fondly at him, and wrapped an arm around the youngling's shoulder to support both his charges. Frodo hesitated for a moment before leaning against him. Soon, a tender smile appeared on his face and he dared to stroke the newborn's small hands. "What's his name?" he asked after a long silence, not taking his eyes from the chubby, rosy cheeks and the blond down peeking through from beneath the blanket in which the baby boy was wrapped.

"Meriadoc," Esmeralda replied in a tired but contented voice. Saradoc smiled lovingly at her, and reached for her hand from behind Frodo's back to give it an affectionate squeeze.

"Meriadoc," Frodo repeated, now gently brushing his finger over the infant's left cheek.

He looks thoughtful, Saradoc mused, yet not gloomy as he usually does. This is a new kind of contemplation, a good one.

Suddenly Frodo's smile grew wider, and Saradoc saw his eyes sparkling as he had not seen them do in almost two years.

"I shall call you Merry."

It was not more than a whisper, but Saradoc felt immediately sure that his son was in good hands -- and that this was the beginning of a lasting friendship. Frodo and Merry would be brothers in heart.

~THE END~