These are not my characters and I am making no money for this. All Hobbits, Wizards, Dwarves, Elves, and assorted humans are the creations of JRR Tolkien. I am just stealing, er, borrowing them because I have no real original characters or imagination of my own.

Thanks for reading!

G.W. 09/26/2006

This was originally posted to my Live Journal.

Butterflies I have known...

Saradoc smiled and puffed on his pipe as he watched Primula play with her little lad in the field of wild flowers that covered the far side of the garden. Saradoc could see Primula holding her little one on her lap. He could hear her laughing as little Frodo pointed to something just ahead and smiled, his large, blue eyes filled with the wonder that only a very small child can feel.

Suddenly Frodo stood and took three slow steps away from the safety of his mother’s lap and held out his hands toward something. The dark-haired five-year-old stood very quiet as if playing at statues and waited. Behind him, Primula watched and waited also. Her musical laughter had stilled and she was watching her dear lad intently. Then, without warning, there it was, landing gently on the child’s hand and flexing its brightly colored wings; a butterfly. The little lad stood transfixed and watched as the beautiful fan-like insect moved about on his hand. Most children would have become too excited and would have cried out or attempted to ensnare the little winged creature but not Frodo Baggins. This one had a gentle spirit and was possessed of the gift of wonder for all living things about him.

Even now at barely five years of age he knew that the butterfly was something delicate and fragile. As Saradoc watched, three more butterflies landed on the child and sat there decorating him with their colors. Primula smiled the smile of a mother who can see great things in her child and all the while more butterflies continued to come to the lad, landing for a time and then flying away.

***

“Mine!” Merry said, furrowing his tiny brow and frowning at his father.

Saradoc bent down level with his four-year-old and looked at the glass canning jar in the child’s sturdy grip. Merry had one rather dirty hand over the top of the jar’s lid and inside of the jar was a single butterfly flapping its wings and bumping against the glass. “Merry, you know that you aren’t supposed to take your mother’s canning jars outside,” Saradoc said. “You might cut yourself.”

“No, I not,” Merry argued stubbornly. “Mine.” He looked at the tiny winged insect in the jar and said, “Fly-fly.”

“Son, the little fly-fly won’t live if you try to keep it in that jar,” Saradoc said gently. “It needs to be out in the garden with the other fly-flys.”

Merry frowned deeper and shook his blond curls. “Keep it!”

Saradoc sighed. “Then it will die.”

“Not die,” Merry insisted.

“Yes, it will, Merry,” Saradoc said patiently. “Besides, how would you like to be trapped inside of a jar? Don’t you think you’d get hungry or want to come out and play?”

Merry’s face relaxed a bit and he peered into the jar at the butterfly. “I feed ‘him lots,” he said but he sounded less convinced now.

“Do you know what he eats?” Saradoc asked tapping the jar with a finger as he spoke.

Merry bit his lower lip and frowned. He shook his head.

“Let’s you and I go and set it free among the flowers and then we’ll get something to eat ourselves. How would that be, my lad?” Saradoc suggested.

“Can’t keep ‘him?” Merry frowned again and held the jar up in front of his dirty face so that Saradoc could see Merry’s eyes magnified through the glass as he looked at the butterfly. “I got ‘him. I catched ‘him my own self,” Merry bragged.

“Did you?” Saradoc smiled standing. “He is a beauty, Merry-lad but if he has to stay in that jar for very long then he really will die.”

Merry considered this and then reached out to take his father’s hand. “Let the fly-fly go then. Catch more after I eat, Papa.” And together they took the butterfly out to the wildflowers and set it free.

*****

“What’s he doing?” Saradoc asked looking out at the field of wild flowers and watching as his tiny nephew ran about in circles with his arms over his head chattering and laughing.

Merry shrugged. “Just playing. He’ll do that for ages if I let him.”

Saradoc listened as the tiny Took’s voice babbled on in some sort of childish gibberish that only the small lad himself knew for words. The little one jumped and spun and laughed as he ran about among the flowers. Then he began to sing in a high, childish lilt. Only some of the words were recognizable. Saradoc heard, eat and fly and go, go, go, and me, but little else that made sense. “What is he trying to sing?” he asked his son.

Merry shrugged again. “Who knows? He just makes it up as he thinks of it. It doesn’t mean anything at all. He’s only four and he’s silly.”

“That isn’t very nice, Meriadoc,” Saradoc frowned.

“Well, he is silly,” Merry reasoned with the assurance of a twelve-year-old. “Look at him flapping his arms about like that. All day long he’s been doing that.”

Saradoc cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted to his nephew. “Pippin! What are you doing out there?”

Pippin, dizzy from all of his spinning and running stopped suddenly and weaved like a tiny drunk for a minute while trying to see who might be calling him. Then regaining his balance he yelled some more nonsense and began to run toward his Uncle and his older cousin with his arms flapping up and down at his sides.

Saradoc scratched his head and watched as Pippin approached and collided with Merry knocking him to the ground. Merry let out a groan and lifted the child off of his chest, sitting up as he did so. “You got to watch where you’re going, Pip Squeak!” Merry complained.

“No Squeak!” Pippin said firmly pulling away from Merry and encircling his Uncle and his annoyed cousin while flapping his arms and singing.

“Pippin, what are you doing?” Saradoc asked again.

“No Pip!” the child giggled, his bright green eyes twinkling and the tiny freckles on his nose blending with the smears of dirt on his face.

“Then who are you?” Merry demanded.

“Bug fly!” Pippin said and then flapped his way back into the flowers amid the startled butterflies that took wing just head of the energetic, imaginative child.

*****

“They help make more flowers,” the serious looking six-year-old said pointing to a butterfly seated atop a rose bud in Bilbo’s garden.

“How do they do that?” Saradoc asked his small garden guide.

“They carry the seeds on their feet when they fly off,” the child announced. He leaned closer to the tiny insect and pointed a chubby finger at it. “See his feet?”

Saradoc knelt on the grass carefully beside of the child and looked. “Why I believe I do,” he said.

“The seeds stick to ‘em and off he flies and them seeds goes off with him and they fall off somewhere’s else and go in the ground and then the rain comes and they grow up and be flowers too,” the child explained turning his sunburned face up to look into Saradoc’s.

“So that’s why the Shire is filled with so many lovely flowers,” Saradoc smiled ruffling the little gardener’s curls.

“No, the flowers is because ‘o my Gaffer,” the little one said. “He plants ‘em. That butterfly just tosses ‘em around a bit and some ‘o them grow but not as good as the ones my Gaffer grows.”

“I see,” Saradoc grinned.

Just then a rough-sounding voice called out, “Sammy! You come over here and stop pesterin’ Mr. Baggins’s company!”

“Comin!” the lad called out in a voice that seemed too deep for a six-year-old. “Gotta go now, Mister. That’s my Gaffer callin’ and we got work to do!” As the child hurried off, the butterfly left the rose behind and sailed off into the afternoon sky.

The End

GW 09/26/2006

“Getting Left”

(Sam: age seven)

“But I’ll be good,” Sam objected. “I’ll keep up and I won’t do nothin’ you don’t say I can do.” The small lad looked up at his older brothers with an earnest expression on his face.

“Sorry, Sammy,” Hamson said gently running a hand through his little brother’s curls. “You need to stay here this time. We will be too busy to watch you.”

“Don’t be late, now. Last time I got worried about you both,” Belle Gamgee warned. “I want you here for supper, both of you!”

“We’ll make it,” Halfred grinned.

“Momma, can’t I go too?” Sam asked looking hopefully at her.

“I can’t let all ‘o my lads out ‘o the smial at once,” Belle said. “I might just need some help this afternoon. If you go off with your brothers then I’ll not have a strong shoulder if I need it.” She smiled at her youngest son.

“Can’t Halfred stay this time?” Sam frowned. “I always stay.”

Belle bent down and Sam came over to her. She lowered her voice and whispered, “That is because of all my lads, you’re the most help to me, Sammy.” She placed a finger to her lips as if warning him not to share this secret with his older brothers who stood by the door watching.

Sam smiled shyly at his mother whom he adored and then looked back at his brothers. “I can’t go this time. Momma needs me here,” Sam announced head held high and chest puffed out slightly.

Hamson lowered his head to keep from grinning and Halfred said with a knowing look at their mother, “Sometimes lasses just need a strong hand or two. Looks like you’re in demand, Sammy.”

Sam grinned. “I just gotta help out with-“ he frowned and then looked up at his mother. “What am I helpin’ with?”

“I have to start getting the tomatoes out ‘o our garden today and I need someone to help me with carryin’ them into the smial. You know how heavy ripe tomatoes in a basket can get,” Belle said rubbing the middle of her back with one hand.

Sam nodded looking serious. “You can pick them, but I’ll tote the baskets.”

“My hero,” Belle pronounced. “I knew I could count on my Sammy.”

“We’ll bring you back some candy, Sammy,” Hamson said as they hurried out of the smial.

Sam waved at them and then looked at his mother. “Who will stay and help you when I’m as big as they are?”

“Don’t you worry about that, Sammy,” Belle smiled. “We have a while before that happens. By then, you might just have a little brother.”

Sam’s eyes shone. “Or maybe two!”

Belle laughed. “Don’t you get carried away, Samwise.”

*****

(Frodo: age seven)

Frodo peered out of the window, nose pressed against the glass.

“What are you looking at, dear-heart?” Primula came over and stood beside of her young son placing a hand on his thin shoulder.

“Nothing,” Frodo sighed.

“It must be a very important nothing for you to look at it so long and so hard,” Primula said.

Frodo looked up at her suddenly, wide blue eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not a baby, am I?” he asked.

She knelt down and put her arms around him gently. “Of course you aren’t. Who said that you were?” she frowned.

“Thad and Oren,” Frodo sniffled. “They said I’m too little to play with them and that I’m a baby. Seven isn’t a baby age, is it?”

“No, it most certainly isn’t,” Primula said giving Frodo’s cheek a wipe with the end of her apron. “Seven is the age when a lad starts to grow up and to be more like the big lads. Seven is an important age.”

“Then why won’t Thad and Oren play with me? Oren plays with me most of the time. He and I played together all last week,” Frodo frowned.

“Thad and Oren are a bit older than seven, Frodo,” Primula said.

“Not much,” Frodo objected. “Oren is only ten and that isn’t much more than seven.”

“Ah, but how old is Thad?”

“Twelve,” Frodo said softly.

“Frodo, Thad is the reason that Oren isn’t playing with you today,” Primula smiled. “You see, Thad is twelve and that is quite a bit older than seven. Oren is playing with Thad instead of playing with you today because Oren wants to seem older than he really is. Tomorrow when Thad is busy with the other twelve-year-olds, Oren will be back.”

“That isn’t fair,” Frodo said wrinkling up his nose a bit. “What if I don’t want to play with Oren tomorrow?”

“Then Oren will just have to make do,” Primula smiled. “You will be the one to decide if you want to play with Oren when he comes back by.”

“I might be busy,” Frodo declared. “Then Oren will have to stand around and do nothing all day like I am.”

“You don’t have to stand around and do nothing,” Primula objected.

“What can I do?” Frodo frowned.

“Why don’t you and I walk out into the garden and read some of the new book that your Cousin Bilbo sent you?” Primula suggested.

“The one about the Dwarves and the silver mine?” Frodo’s eyes were alight with interest now.

“The very one,” Primula smiled.

“Can I read a bit too?”

“Of course you can,” Primula said. “You are getting to be very good with your letters, Frodo. I enjoy it when you read to me.”

“I’ll get the book! Oren can just go off with Thad all he wants! We have a new book!” Frodo shouted joyously as he ran from the room to get the book.

*****

(Merry: age seven)

“Please, Frodo,” Merry insisted stretching it out as he spoke. “Mum will let me go if you take me.”

“Sorry, Merry,” Frodo said mussing his younger cousin’s curls. “This time I’m going into town with the older lads. You’ll have to stay here but when I get back I promise that we’ll do something just the two of us.”

Merry folded his arms over his chest and glared at Frodo. “I won’t be home!”

“You won’t?” Frodo looked amused. “Where will you be?”

“I’m going to go and do some important stuff with my friends that you can’t do,” Merry said. “Me and Berilac will be busy when you get home.”

“You aren’t angry with me, are you, Merry?” Frodo asked.

“Go on off with those older lads,” Merry said turning his back on his older cousin now. “I don’t care. Berilac is more fun than you are anyway.”

“He is?” Frodo sighed. “I thought we were friends, Merry.”

“You’re not being very friendly,” Merry said. “You’re leaving me to go with those big lads. That’s not friendly.”

“Merry, I’m older than you are,” Frodo said gently. “Sometimes I go places with the older lads but that doesn’t mean that you and I aren’t friends. It just means that you have to do a bit of growing before you are old enough for some things.”

“Then you should wait on me,” Merry said firmly. He turned around and looked at Frodo. “I’d wait for you.”

“Merry, I promise that I won’t be away long,” Frodo said. “You’ll understand this better when you’re older. One of these days you’ll be the one going out the door and someone younger than you will be waiting for you to return. Everyone goes through this.”

“If I had someone who wanted to come with me, I’d just bring them,” Merry said. “I wouldn’t care how old they were. If they were my friends then they could come too!” He stamped one foot as he spoke.

“I think you might just change your mind when you’re older,” Frodo said. “Now, I’ll be back for supper and if you want to, you and I can build a tent in the parlor and camp out tonight.”

“If Berilac and I aren’t busy,” Merry said wavering a bit but still not willing to admit it.

Frodo nodded. “If you and Berilac aren’t busy.”

Merry nodded and watched Frodo leave. “I’m going to grow bigger than you and leave you here to wait!” Merry shouted to the closed door. He then turned and stalked out of the kitchen.

*****

(Pippin: age seven)

“Where do you think you’re going?” Merry demanded looking down at his younger cousin.

“With you,” Pippin said smiling. “I got my jacket and my scarf and I’m ready.”

“Well, you can just go back and hang up your jacket and your scarf because you aren’t going this time,” Merry said.

“Why not?” Pippin asked.

“For one thing, you’ve buttoned your jacket wrong,” Merry sighed kneeling down and unfastening the big silver buttons on the child’s jacket.

“I had one left over,” Pippin agreed. “Can you fix it?”

“I am going to unbutton this jacket and you are going to take it and hang it back up,” Merry said.

“Aren’t we going out?” Pippin frowned.

“I’m going out but you are staying here this time,” Merry said.

Pippin pulled back from his older cousin and began to try to button the jacket back up again. “I’m going!”

“No, you aren’t,” Merry said.

“Am too!” Pippin said.

Suddenly Merry smiled. “Fine, but you better go and tell someone that you’re going.”

“You wait here,” Pippin grinned and he hurried out of the room.

Merry stood up quickly and started for the back door. He had the door open and was just about to leave when he caught sight of Frodo watching him from the rocker in the corner. Merry stopped. “I don’t have time to argue with him,” Merry said.

Frodo shrugged but he didn’t say anything. He just continued to look at Merry.

“I can’t take him with me everywhere I go,” Merry hissed.

“So you’d rather lie to him?” Frodo frowned.

“He’ll follow me unless I get out before he comes back,” Merry objected. “If I just tell him he can’t go, he comes anyway. He doesn’t listen. I have to trick him.”

“I seem to recall a time when you told me that if someone younger than you wanted to come along with you, that you’d bring them. You said you wouldn’t be like me and leave them behind,” Frodo smiled.

“That was because I was angry at you and I was little then,” Merry objected. “I would have said anything to convince you to take me.”

Pippin came racing back into the room. “I can come but Nelly says that you have to fix my buttons, Merry,” Pippin said.

Frodo arched an eyebrow and waited. Merry sighed. “Pip Squeak, I’m supposed to meet the older lads this time and I really think-“

“Pippin, can I ask you to do me a favor?” Frodo broke in.

Pippin looked over at Frodo and frowned. “What?”

“Would you mind staying here with me today?” Frodo asked. “I was planning on going for a walk this afternoon but it is so much more fun with company. If you and Merry both leave than I will be on my own.”

Pippin bit his lower lip and looked from one older cousin to the other. “I promised Merry,” he said then he looked at Merry. “Will you mind if I stay with Frodo?”

“No, Pip. You stay here with Frodo. I have the older lads for company. You and I can do something tonight when I get back,” Merry said with a grateful look at Frodo.

Pippin smiled at Merry and said, “You can teach me to work these buttons.” He looked down at his jacket and frowned. “There’s always too many of them for the holes that I have.”

Merry grinned. “I can do that. Keep Frodo company and try to stay out of trouble.”

“I will,” Pippin smiled.

After Merry had gone out the door Pippin sighed and looked at Frodo. “Merry always leaves before I get back but I could have caught him. I always do,” Pippin said. “He tries to sneak out but I mostly catch him.”

“You knew he was tricking you?” Frodo frowned.

Pippin nodded. “And I know that you don’t really need company to walk.”

“You are too clever for your own good, Peregrin Took,” Frodo sighed shaking his head.

“I am,” Pippin smiled. “And when I figure out my buttons and get older then Merry won’t be able to get far without me.”

Frodo laughed. “No, I doubt that he will.”

“So,” Pippin smiled. “Where are we going?”

The End

G.W. 02/10/2007

With a Kiss

Estella Bolger didn’t resist when Merry pushed her up against the trunk of the tree. He placed one hand on either side of her head and then he looked down at her. She met his dark grey stare for a minute and then she closed her eyes and tilted her chin up toward him keeping her arms at her sides. She was standing there just waiting. Every inch of her body was tense with anticipation. She felt Merry gently lean forward and place his lips against hers. Then, just like that, he kissed her. He kissed her tenderly and softly but with a firm pressure that sent her heart to beating fiercely in her ears. He didn’t put his arms around her and she didn’t move the entire time save to kiss him back. She hadn’t been certain that she could move. Not now. Not while he was so very near.

Just as he was pulling away from the kiss he ran one hand through her silky, brown curls and then he was gone. Estella stood there not daring to move or open her eyes. She wanted to hold onto the moment for as long as she could. Merry Brandybuck had finally kissed her! He had finally looked at her and seen something more than Fredegar Bolger’s baby sister. She was twenty-five now and he was starting to notice her in the way that she had wanted him to notice her. Even more, he had been the one to make the first move. He had pushed her against the tree. He had leaned over her and kissed her. It was a fact that she had not resisted in any way, that she had offered her lips to him and that she had kissed him back, but still, it had been his doing. It had been his idea. He had wanted to kiss her.

She had been pleased enough when his eyes had lingered on her early in the afternoon as she had cut him a slice of pie at the picnic. She had been slightly giddy when his hand had brushed against hers as he took the plate from her. She’d felt a small tingling sensation pass through her when she’d found herself alone with him here at the far end of the garden but she had never expected him to actually kiss her. Her knees were weak and she ran her tongue over her lips as if trying to hold onto the taste of him for just a minute more. Merry Brandybuck had kissed her! Now, would he kiss her again?

*****

She looked at him and smiled. He was so shy and so proper. How was she supposed to get a lad with so many rules to relax and pay her some attention? Oh, he looked at her when he thought she didn’t notice. She knew that he was interested all right. As her old Gran had often said, “It’s in the eyes, Rosie lass. You can see all in the eyes.” Those light green eyes of Sam Gamgee’s certainly looked at her with enough emotion. It was the rest of him that she was having trouble with! She continued to smile at him and he blushed and looked away.

She sighed, suppressed a giggle, and made her hands busy with straightening the folds of her skirt. Music played all around her and couples danced. The stars were out and the night was warm. It was the perfect night to find yourself in the strong arms of someone that you might, just might be starting to fall in love with. Why couldn’t Sam be bold just this once? Why couldn’t he walk over and take her hand and lead her out among the dancing couples? Why couldn’t he put an arm about her waist and hold her close?

He was standing over by the tables talking to Mr. Frodo now. Sam’s back was to her. She let her eyes trace the strong lines of his shoulders. She loved those shoulders. As Sam continued to talk to Mr. Baggins, Rose allowed her eyes to gaze a bit lower. She was shocked at how brazen she was behaving. What would she do if someone caught her admiring Sam Gamgee in this way? She’d no sooner had the thought than she noticed Mr. Frodo’s bright, blue eyes twinkling in her direction. He was looking at her over one of Sam’s broad shoulders. He knew. Mr. Frodo knew. She felt her face color but she didn’t lower her gaze. There was no shame in letting folks know what you wanted was there? Besides, Mr. Frodo already knew what she wanted. She could see it in his eyes. He knew exactly what Rose Cotton wanted. Why didn’t Sam know?

As Rose stood there, nervous fingers toying with her skirt, Mr. Frodo Baggins did a wonderful thing. He winked at her and then quick as you please, he turned her Sam around and gave him a push in her direction. Rose quickly caught the tempo of the music that was playing and danced forward catching Sam’s calloused hands in her own and moving him out into the crowd of dancing couples. She laughed softly and pulled him closer and he let her, lowering his eyes a bit in that embarrassed, shy way of his.

“Dance with me, Sam,” Rose heard herself say as she quickly kissed him on his cheek.

“I’d like that,” he replied and then he carefully, as if he thought she might break, placed an arm about her waist and moved her in time with the music. As they turned and spun with the others, Rose managed to catch sight of Mr. Frodo, ale in hand, standing by the tables. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed silently. He just grinned and waved but Rose knew that she had a conspirator in her plan to romance Sam. Mr. Frodo was in her corner now and that might just be all of the help that she needed.

*****

“You’ve never kissed a lass, have you?” she teased him, looking up into those wide, endless blue eyes of his.

“I have,” he said defiantly.

“Who? How many?” she asked placing a hand on his chest and daring him to answer her. “What were their names?”

He laughed. It was a low chuckle. She shivered as if the laugh had run right through her and into the earth below. “You’re far too young to be asking so many questions,” he said and he reached over and pinched the end of her nose like he might that of a mischievous child.

She stepped back from him, anger rising in her and she glared darkly at him. “I’m twenty-three! I am not a child and you cannot treat me as such for long,” she said. “I’m growing up now, Frodo Baggins.”

She felt his eyes wander over her. “So I can see,” he said with that twinkle in his eyes that melted her heart. “But I am still eight years older than you.” He gave a sly glance at her chest and then said, “Still, I can see a few interesting changes.”

“Then kiss me,” she demanded suddenly feeling brave. “Kiss me and you’ll know I’m no longer a child.” She stepped closer to him and she felt her toes brush against his. Her short, black curls bounced as she leaned her head back and offered him her lips. She placed her hands on his shoulders and rose up on her toes. “Kiss me!”

He looked down into her face and smiled. “Maybe I will,” he said with a slightly wicked grin.

She was nervous but she didn’t move away. She’d never kissed a lad before save a quick peck on the cheek that she’d given to Falco Boffin once when she’d been fifteen and had thought that he might be the one. Now, she was twenty-three and she just knew in her heart way down deep where it counts that Frodo Baggins was the one. He was the only one. “Kiss me,” she heard herself say softly.

“You promise that you won’t run away?” he teased.

She blushed. He’d tried to kiss her once when she’d been twenty and she had run away that time. Not because she hadn’t wanted the kiss, but because she’d thought that she might die from the pleasure of it. “I’m not running this time,” she said.

He gave her one last smile, closed his eyes, and then she felt his lips on hers. She did melt a little. She melted with the pleasure of it.

*****

“And now you are one, each a part of the other,” she heard a voice say. “May you both live out your days together in joy.”

Her eyes were locked only on his. She stood holding his hands tightly in hers as if he might pull away and be gone if she let go for even a second. She entwined her fingers into his long, slim ones and looked into those, amazing green eyes of his. There he stood before her, tall, straight and proud. He looked down at her as if she were a treasure unearthed and presented only to him. He always looked at her as if she were special above all others. She felt special when he looked at her.

“May your children be many and may your home be filled with love,” the distant voice continued.

She let her eyes follow the sharp angle of his nose and the tiny cleft in his chin. She was making a memory for later. She was memorizing how Peregrin Took looked right at this very instant. She wanted to keep him in her heart and hold him there just as he looked now. Those sweet bow-shaped lips, that long, untamed tangle of auburn curls, and those wonderful eyes, so deep and so green that she thought she might drown within them.

“May you comfort one another and turn only to each other in times of need,” the voice said. “Diamond, do you give your heart to this lad who stands before you and asks?”

“I give my heart,” Diamond heard herself saying though her eyes never left Pippin’s face.

“Peregrin, do you give your heart to this lass who stands before you and asks?” the voice inquired.

“I give my heart,” he said in that delightful lilt that was all his own.

She felt a small giggle escape her lips and he grinned at her.

“Do you both now vow before this company of witnesses that you will stand together as husband and wife and that you will remain faithful to one another in the bond of love that brings you together now?” the voice asked.

“I do,” Diamond said her voice joining with Pippin’s. She liked the way their voices mingled when they spoke the words together. She felt him squeeze her hands in his.

“Then it is my honor and my privilege to present to all of those assembled here today, Mr. And Mrs. Peregrin Took!” the voice said.

There were shouts and cheers and tiny pieces of colored parchment rained down upon her but Diamond could see and hear only Pippin now. He smiled at her and said, “No, it is my honor to take you as my wife.” She was, no doubt the only one close enough to hear this in the midst of all of the cheering and that was as it should be for he must have meant the words for her alone. Then instead of turning to greet their friends as a newly joined couple usually does at this instant, she wrapped her arms about him and pulled his face down toward her. As his lips met hers, she offered a silent thank you. ‘Thank you for sending me my heart.’

The End

G.W. 02/14/2007 Happy Valentine's Day!

This is posted in four parts because each little story for each little hobbit got too long. In other words, I've written too much again. All the same I do hope you enjoy them.

GW

“Leaving Home”

Sam at age 10

They were fightin’ again. Sam could hear ‘em right enough and he wished they’d stop. He stood just out of their sight hiding around the corner of the doorframe and listened though he’d been taught better.

“There’s nothin’ for it,” his father was saying in a disgusted tone. “Them folks just don’t know a good gardener from a rusty nail!”

Sam frowned as his mother said, “Well, Ham, what will we do? That job was food for at least one month this winter and-“

Sam cringed as his father interrupted her. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I’m not up to figurin’ out that this puts us short on coin for food? You don’t have to remind me! I know I’ve let us down but there’s no way to get that job back!”

“I never said you’d let us down,” Sam heard his mother say as she placed her arms about herself as if hugging herself. “I only worry. The little ones have to eat and the coin that Mr. Baggins pays us is grand but there’s just too many of us for that to stretch to feed us all. The garden has done well this year but,” She stopped, her eyes downcast.

“You and me went and had ourselves a smial full ‘o little ones,” Sam’s father muttered. “A few less might ‘o been wise.”

Sam swallowed hard and silently hurried down the short hallway to his own room. That was where Marigold found him some time later. “What are you doin’, Sammy?” she asked.

He turned startled to see her there and frowned at her. “Go away and play, Marigold. I’m busy,” he said in what he thought was a firm tone. He must have been wrong though because she only came further into the tiny room and stood beside him looking at the rucksack he was packing.

“Why are you packin’?” she asked. “Is it a game? Can I play too?”

“No, it ain’t no game,” Sam said annoyed. “I got somethin’ I have to do now you go on and play and leave me to it.” He turned from her and quickly stuffed the last of his shirts into the rucksack.

Marigold turned her eyes up to him and her lower lip began to tremble. “You’re goin’ off like Hamson did!”

Sam was surprised that she was mentioning their oldest brother but he didn’t have time for all ‘o this foolishness. Lasses could be a real chore and no mistake. “I’m just goin’ off to find work for a while,” Sam said in a whisper. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Work? What will you do?” Marigold asked looking a bit lost.

“I don’t know yet but I might try to find work as a gardener somewhere. I been helpin’ our Gaffer since I was younger than you so I know a bit about it,” Sam said straightening his shoulders and standing tall.

“All alone?” Marigold frowned.

“I got to find work to help out,” Sam said.

“I want to help,” Marigold said smiling.

“You’re too young and you don’t know nothin’ bout anythin’ yet,” Sam said and he watched as his little sister burst into tears and ran from the room. He hadn’t meant to upset her but lasses didn’t always take the plain truth too well. He’d been workin’ on not sayin’ things so straight out but he suspected he had a way to go a’fore he got that sorted out. With a sigh he returned to his packing.

Ten minutes later as Sam was pulling on his rucksack his father walked into the room and filled the doorway. It always seemed to Sam that his father was the biggest hobbit in the Shire. He looked up at him and waited. He could tell that his Gaffer meant to say somethin’ and there’d be no stoppin’ him.

“I hear you’re off to find work,” Hamfast Gamgee said.

Sam nodded, his earnest little face still turned up toward his father. He could feel his resolve lessening at just the sight of his father. Sam respected his father and loved him dearly. That was why he just had to find a good job to help with feeding the family.

“So, you don’t like workin’ with me no more? Think you’ve learned your trade in not but a few summers do you?” Hamfast frowned.

“I don’t want to go but I got to,” Sam said. He pulled at the straps to his rucksack nervously.

“Oh, you got to do you?” Hamfast sighed. “So I’m just supposed to find help just like that am I?”

Sam wrinkled up his forehead and tried to figure this new thing out. He hadn’t thought about this. Who would help his father if he went out on his own?

“Here you are fixin’ to go out on your own and givin’ no thought to the rest’o us,” Hamfast said.

“I was thinkin’ about the rest ‘o you,” Sam objected. “I was thinkin’ that with me gone then there’d be less to feed and if I got a job I could send back money the way Hamson does.”

Hamfast nodded. “I suppose that’s so but I don’t think you thought this one all the way through, Sam lad.”

Sam scratched his head. “I thought I had.”

“You getting’ a job as a gardener might be all well as far as it goes but you’d not get paid much for your effort. You’d most likely be apprenticed to a gardener who’d been workin’ longer at it. Apprentices don’t make much in the way ‘o money lad. They’d let you work for food and board, which would be all well and good for you. You’d not go hungry this winter if you earned your keep,” Hamfast said.

“And you’d not have to worry about feeding me at least,” Sam spoke up. He was disappointed that he would not be makin’ any money but he would be helpin’ his father some just by earnin’ his own meals.

“No, I wouldn’t but I’d have to have myself an apprentice if you did that,” Hamfast said. “I’d have to take on a young lad to help me with Mr. Bilbo’s place and the gardens that I have over near town and then there’s our own garden and Daddy Twofoot is still goin’ to need our help this year like he always does.” Hamfast shook his head.

“He ain’t much of a gardener is he?” Sam sighed.

“No indeed and if we don’t see to him his lot will go hungry this winter,” Hamfast said. “I could find an apprentice I suppose but I’d have to start over fresh with a lad that didn’t know nothin’ at all. Most lads have got work by now. It’s the middle of the growin’ season, Sam.”

Sam nodded.

Marigold, who had been listening just on the other side of the doorframe hurried into the room and tugged at her father’s trouser-leg. “I can ‘prentice you father. I can be your new help in the gardens,” she said hopefully.

“That’s lad’s work,” Sam objected feeling jealous for some reason.

“No, it ain’t all work for a lad,” Hamfast said smiling down at his youngest child as he spoke. “Marigold here might make a fine apprentice but the trouble is that she ain’t got no experience yet and then what would your mother do for help if I was to take Marigold to train?”

“Poor mum,” Marigold said suddenly conflicted.

“So I’ll be needin’ a lad to help me and I expect we’ll have to feed and board him like your new master will be doin’ for you,” Hamfast said.

“But that won’t help out,” Sam frowned.

“Now you begin to see what I meant when I said that you ain’t thought this all through, son,” Hamfast said.

“But there’s too many of us,” Sam said his voice shaking with emotion.

Hamfast bent down and held out his arms and both of his little ones came rushing over. “No there ain’t. Why I still miss Hamson now and again. I wish we could have all stayed right here in this one smial together but your brother got it in his head to go off and learn a trade and when a lad makes up his mind you gotta let him have a try.” He held them close to him in a rough hug and Sam pressed his face against his father’s shirt.

“Why your mum and me would’a had a whole bunch more ‘o you little rascals if we’d thought to do it sooner. As it is some days there just aren’t enough ‘o you.” He chuckled and ruffled Sam’s hair.

“But I heard you and mum talkin’,” Sam murmured. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be listening but he supposed that his father knew that he had anyway.

“You heard part ‘o things but you’re too young yet to know what grown ups discuss and as I’ve always told you, Samwise, if you don’t hear all then you don’t know all. I lost one garden and so I’m a might upset about it but you know what?”

“What?” Marigold chirped before Sam could reply.

“I’ll work twice as hard on our garden and we’ll grow ourselves extra,” Hamfast said. “And I’ll ask around. I’ll find something more to replace that coin I would’a got for that garden.”

“I have two pennies,” Marigold offered.

Hamfast smiled at her and kissed the top of her head. “And you’re to keep them pennies for lithe fare this year, Missy,” he said. “A lass needs money for sweets now and again.”

Sam pulled reluctantly out of the hug and said, “I want to stay here and work with you, Gaffer.”

“Good lad,” Hamfast smiled. “You and me got extra planting to do now and we also gotta get into busy makin’ them stakes for the younger plants. Then there’s weedin’ to do over at Mr. Bilbo’s and poor ole Daddy Twofoot’s got slugs in his garden again.”

Sam shook his head in an imitation of his father and sighed. “It just ain’t right that a hobbit know so little about growin’ things. Even Mr. Bilbo knows more about plants and he don’t have to.”

Hamfast smiled. “We’ll see to ‘im so he gets to put food on his table won’t we lad?”

Sam grinned brightly, his round face glowing as his father said, “I got me the best apprentice in the Shire and I don’t intend to lose ‘im.”

The End

GW 06/23/2007

“Leaving Home’

Frodo at age nine

The Wizard peered though the trees at the small hobbit that was standing in the clearing with a large piece of parchment in his hands. Hobbits were very entertaining and today seemed to be a fine day for adventure among the little folk. The Wizard had already seen several hobbits engaged in one activity or another. He was on his way to visit his dear friend, Bilbo Baggins but he supposed that he could make time to satisfy his curiosity. Bilbo wasn’t expecting him really. There was no danger of his being late. He watched as the child peered at the parchment intently. The lad didn’t look old enough to read really but sometimes even after all of these years he still had trouble telling the ages of Hobbits.

They were a merry folk and even the elder ones looked young of face when they smiled. This was a child but the Wizard wasn’t certain what age the child might be. He was tall but he was slight. The hair was very dark and he was well dressed for a youngster at play. This lad must be gentry or perhaps a child on his way to a special event.

Careful not to startle the child, the Wizard walked slowly over and knelt down so as not to look too imposing. Most hobbit children were more curious than they were frightened by him. It was rare for him to find a child that actually ran away in fright. Some hid behind trees or parents and peered at him but eventually they all came over to see the grey giant. Hobbit children were very trusting for the most part and because they had lived for so long in peace they didn’t really consider that one of the big folk might mean them harm unless they had been schooled by their parents to think this way.

This lad was so engrossed in his parchment that he didn’t even look up when the Wizard addressed him. “What have you got there, my lad?”

“My map,” the child said still puzzling over it.

“Are you going somewhere?” the Wizard asked with a slight chuckle in his voice. Hobbits didn’t really go anyway most of the time unless they were uncommonly adventurous.

“I’m going to Dale,” the child announced and he looked over at the Wizard then his bright blue eyes dancing with excitement. “I’ve made a map and I plan to go to Dale and visit with the Dwarves and bring back all sorts of things.” The child’s voice and manner made him seem older than the Wizard had suspected.

“How old are you?” the Wizard asked looking at those blue eyes and wondering if perhaps this child had some elvish blood within him. The eyes were not at all hobbit eyes. There was a light to this one that spoke of the fair folk.

“I’m nine,” the lad proclaimed. “I’ll be ten in a while.”

“I see. Isn’t that a trifle young to be going off to Dale on your own?” the Wizard asked lifting his bushy eyebrows with the question. It was also a trifle young to be reading and writing so well. Hobbit children often did not become well schooled in reading and writing until they were twelve or so and some Hobbits chose not to learn at all.

“I have this map that I made,” the lad said ignoring the question in favor of different information. “I copied it from my older cousin Bilbo’s maps.”

Ah, now it made sense. This was one of Bilbo’s relations. That explained the adventurous nature as well as the interest in maps. Most hobbits were not keen on maps unless they were detailed maps of the Shire proper. “So you made this map yourself?”

“I did,” the child grinned proudly and he proceeded to stretch it out on the ground at their feet for the Wizard’s inspection. “See, there’d the border of the Shire and that’s the road to Bree and that, way over there is the Misty Mountains. My cousin, Bilbo saw those when he traveled with the Dwarves.”

“This is very good indeed,” the Wizard said and it was a very passable map. It was quite detailed. “That must be the stone trolls there,” the Wizard said pointing to the place on the map.

“It is!” the child said delighted that his new friend had recognized one of his favorite portions of the map. “Do you know the story of the stone trolls?”

“I do,” the Wizard replied.

The lad studied him and then suddenly he said, “Frodo Baggins at your service and at your family’s service.”

“And I am at your family’s service also. I am Gandalf,” the Wizard said.

The lad’s eyes shone and he said, “You’re Bilbo’s friend! You are the Wizard that went on Bilbo’s adventure. I’ve seen you before.”

“You have?” This surprised Gandalf, as he was certain he would have recalled this bright-eyed child is he had ever met him before.

“I saw you talking to Bilbo once in his kitchen when I was very small,” Frodo smiled. “I was hiding under the table.”

“You must be excellent at hiding because I don’t recall seeing you,” Gandalf said.

“You didn’t but I saw you. You weren’t wearing your hat,” the child observed. “But you looked much the same as you do now so I am certain that it was you.”

“It must have been,” Gandalf said with a chuckle. There was more to this hobbit than others might know or expect. This lad was quite uncommon. Gandalf turned his attention to the map again and he said, “When do you leave for Dale?”

“Well, I was going to go today but I think there are a few things missing on this map,” Frodo frowned. “I think I’ve left some of the roads out and I have forgot to mark the way to Beorn’s home. I’ll need to stop there if I am to make it to Dale.”

“Yes, you would be most welcome in Beorn’s home,” Gandalf smiled. “He was very fond of Bilbo and as soon as he knew that you were one of Bilbo’s relations then I am quite certain that he would welcome your visit.”

“But I must get there before dark and I mustn’t bring a great many Dwarves with me all at once. If I do have Dwarves with me and I might meet a few along the way, then I must bring then in a few at a time,” Frodo said.

Gandalf chuckled. The child knew Bilbo’s tale very well indeed. This youngster was a scholar in the making it seemed. This child was ready for adventure so there must be more than a bit of Took blood in this child. Gandalf decided to ask about that indirectly. “Who are your parents, lad?”

“My father is Drogo Baggins and my mother is Primula Brandybuck Baggins,” Frodo said proudly.

“I see,” Gandalf nodded thoughtfully. This was that uncommon mixture of Brandybuck logic, Baggins stubbornness, and Tookish adventure. The Took blood was from Bilbo’s side of things as well as from Primula’s mother. There would be plenty of adventure in this one with enough logic to keep him well grounded and enough Baggins stubbornness to keep him determined to see things through to the end. This was indeed a very uncommon hobbit child. “I know your family well.”

“Since you were there, can you help me with my map?” Frodo asked. “Bilbo is in Hobbiton and I’m here in Buckland and so I can’t get a look at his maps just now. The trip to Hobbiton isn’t on my way to Dale or I would stop in and fix the map and have tea with Bilbo.”

The Wizard nodded. Tea with Bilbo would be interesting. When he saw Bilbo he would have to tell him about this encounter with young Frodo Baggins and his map. “I might be of some use to you with your map,” Gandalf said. “Have you prepared for your trip in other ways?”

Frodo’s face shone now. “I have my pack ready. I’ve two clean changes of clothing, mum says clean clothing is very important.”

“Quite right.”

“I have bread and cheese and apples and mushrooms. I have a knife. I have flint and a couple of candles. I have my bedroll and my coat. I don’t need my coat now but by the end of the journey I shall be glad to have it.”

“Yes, I suspect that is so.”

“I have a real spy glass like the ones used on ships that Bilbo gave me for my ninth birthday and my money and this map of course.” Frodo waited for the Wizard’s approval of his packing.

“Very well thought out,” Gandalf said and watched the smile widen on the child’s face. “No biscuits?”

Frodo frowned. “I did have but I’ve eaten them on the way here from my home,” he said looking slightly distressed by this. “Biscuits don’t last very long do they?”

“Not in the company of hobbits,” Gandalf smiled. “I suppose that you might manage without them since you haven’t any at present.”

“I could stop and buy some along the way or perhaps Beorn’s animals will make me some,” Frodo said with a hopeful smile.

“They might,” Gandalf nodded. This one was always thinking. One could tell. Clever children are very difficult to watch over as they are always thinking which often leads to trouble. “Let us turn our attention to your map, Master Baggins. Do you have anything with you to make the corrections that I am about to suggest?”

Frodo pulled two fresh sticks of charcoal from his trouser pocket and held them up as if they were jewels.

“Those will do quite nicely,” Gandalf said and for some time the two of them busied themselves with the corrections to the map. It was a very odd scene that would have met any passers by had anyone come along to this place. The parchment was spread upon the ground and the young hobbit lad lay on his stomach carefully drawing in the roads and details that the Wizard, who was seated tailor fashion suggested. The two of them worked for several hours and finally Gandalf looked up at the sky and frowned. “Oh, dear.”

“What’s the matter, Gandalf?” Frodo asked looking up also.

“We’ve let it get late,” Gandalf sighed. “I’m afraid I have kept you from your adventure with all of my corrections. Now, I fear that it is too late for you to begin your journey.”

“Bilbo says that it is quite pleasant to walk at night under the stars,” Frodo said with a shrug. “I like walking after dark.”

The Wizard resolved to tell Bilbo that perhaps some of his words of wisdom were causing a bit of trouble for his younger relations and that a bit of caution might not go amiss. “All the same I fear we have seriously depleted your stores. Between us we’ve eaten most of your apples and all of your cheese,” Gandalf pointed out.

“You did enjoy the cheese,” Frodo said in a slightly accusing tone with a frown.

Gandalf shrugged. “I am uncommonly fond of good cheese.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be wise to begin with so little to eat in my pack,” Frodo sighed.

“No, I suspect that the wisest course would be to go home and begin again at a later date,” Gandalf said. “Do you live far from here?”

“Not too far,” Frodo said. He stood and brushed the dust from his trousers. “I shall have to wait to leave for at least a week now.”

“Oh?”

“My mum will want to wash these trousers when I get home and she only does the wash once a week. These are my very best trousers. In fact if she knew I was wearing them today, well, when she sees that I have them on she will not be pleased,” Frodo sighed.

“Do you always travel in such finery?” Gandalf asked amused.

“I want to look my best on the road to Dale,” Frodo said. “It is always wise to make a good first impression if you want to remain on the right side of folks.”

“Sound thinking indeed,” Gandalf said. “I will walk you home as it is on my way.”

“Are you going to see Bilbo or the Elves?” Frodo asked curiously.

“Bilbo this time,” Gandalf smiled. “But one never knows who one might encounter. I may perhaps see an Elf or two along the way.”

“They come into the Shire sometimes,” Frodo nodded. “Bilbo says that’s so.”

Gandalf made a show of straightening his hat and said, “I shall try to look my best for them.”

Frodo frowned. “Are you teasing me?”

“Perhaps,” Gandalf smiled.

Frodo smiled. “I didn’t know that Wizards did that sort of thing.”

“My dear lad, Wizards do indeed,” Gandalf said returning the smile and including a wink.

Later at the evening meal Frodo told his parents all about his visit with the Wizard and all about his aborted plan to travel to Dale. When he had gone to bed that evening after having talked himself out completely, Drogo said, “Out lad has an imagination equal to his love of biscuits. It seems Bilbo’s stories have the child thinking outlandish thoughts of Wizards and travel.”

Primula smiled. “I think he did meet the Wizard.”

“He might have at that. Frodo isn’t one to lie even if it makes a better tale,” Drogo said. “But traveling out of the Shire! Not our Frodo.”

For some reason this gave Primula a chill and it was some time before she felt warm again.

The End

GW 06/24/2007

“Leaving Home”

Merry age eight

“Will you look there? If that lad’s not a caution. I don’t know how the Master and his Missus will keep him in line,” Lavender Grubb sighed as she pointed toward the lad in question.

“Stars!” Eglantine said looking over toward her nephew who was riding a pony that was much too big for him.

The lad was leaning forward across the broad back of what must have been one of the Brandybuck’s plow ponies and holding onto the animal’s mane with his fists. The animal, obviously a gentle beast, was plodding along at an even, slow pace placing one large hoof in front of the other carefully as if it might know that it carried precious cargo. The pony wore no saddle.

“Surely the Master doesn’t know that his lad is out riding on that large pony,” Lavender said. “No one in their right mind would allow a lad of that age to ride all on his own.”

“Of course not,” Eglantine said. “Why Merry isn’t even allowed to come into town alone and yet here he is.” She sighed and ran a hand across her swollen stomach and felt a tiny foot kick hard against her palm. The baby was anxious to be born she suspected. She was still far from her time to deliver but some days she felt as big as a barn and ready to have this over and done with. Still looking at what young Merry was doing just now made her think that perhaps her new little one was safer and less trouble where she was.

This would probably be her last trip away from home before the birth. She and her husband and three daughters had come to Buckland to visit for a few weeks before the weather turned and the ride here had been pleasant enough but she knew she was getting too far along for any more trips. The return ride home might actually be a bit uncomfortable for her.

“I suspect that someone should fetch the Master,” Lavender sighed. “I honestly thought that when young Frodo left to stay with that strange Baggins relation of his that things might calm down a bit but it looks as if little Merry means to follow in his cousin’s footsteps.”

“I’ll see to it,” Eglantine said with a boldness that she didn’t really feel. She was the mother of three lasses after all and little lads were something of a mystery to her. Merry had visited the farm in Whitwell and she adored him but she was not at all used to dealing with the problems of lads. She raised her skirt slightly to hold it above the mud and stepped toward the approaching pony and its rider.

She had just reached the pony when Merry pulled tight on the mane and the large animal stopped. He peered down at her with his serious grey eyes and said, “They know where I am. It’s fine really. I do this all of the time.”

“You do?” Eglantine asked looking startled at how easily the lad had lied to her.

Merry nodded. “I’ve been riding since I was two.”

“Only two years old? Before you could walk?” Eglantine frowned.

“Well, I might have been three,” Merry reconsidered. “And I’m eight now so I’m very good at riding now. You don’t have to worry and you don’t have to tell anyone or try to stop me or anything.”

“I might be able to tell someone but I seriously doubt that I could stop you,” Eglantine said patting her stomach. “I have a small baby to think of and I can’t be wrestling young lads off of ponies just now.”

“Oh,” Merry said thoughtfully. He stared at her stomach for a minute and said, “Does it hurt having a baby inside you?”

“Not really,” Eglantine smiled. She didn’t know exactly what Merry knew about babies or the process of delivery but she wasn’t about to appoint herself his tutor in this area.

“When will it come?” Merry asked leaning forward over the side of the patient pony.

“Well, I am to expect it sometime within the next four months,” Eglantine said.

“Why doesn’t it come now? It looks big enough,” Merry observed still staring at her stomach.

She supposed that she did look large enough to give birth already. She certainly felt large enough. This was probably going to be a very big baby. Pervinca had been a large baby and had looked as if she were six months old when she was born. Eglantine had nearly died giving birth to Pervinca and so she tried not to think about how large this baby was growing. She cleared her throat and turned her attention to her nephew. “It may be large enough to come now but with babies it takes time for them to be ready for the world. This little lass isn’t ready just yet,” Eglantine smiled.

“How do you know it’s a lass? Mum says that you never know until they come out,” Merry said.

“Well, I suppose that I don’t know really,” Eglantine said. “I am only going by what has happened before. I have had three babies and all three of them have been lasses and so I am just guessing that this is also a lass. I could be wrong.”

Merry nodded seriously. The child had such a serious look to him at times but when he smiled his eyes danced and he lived up to his name in every way. He was a merry little lad. Just now he was deep in thought and he said, “If it’s a lad will you let it ride ponies?”

“When he’s old enough,” Eglantine said. She thought this was a good opening and so she pressed on. “And might I ask where you are going on this very large pony?”

“I’m going to Hobbiton,” Merry announced.

“All the way to Hobbiton by yourself on this pony?” Eglantine said looking startled. It hadn’t occurred to her that Merry actually had any one place in mind. She had suspected that the lad had merely taken the pony for a ride without permission. She never really thought that he might be going anywhere.

“All by myself. I packed my things that I need in my rucksack and got on this pony and I’m going to Hobbiton and no one is going to stop me,” Merry said firmly. He looked at her now as if daring her to try.

“I see,” Eglantine said. “Why are you going to Hobbiton?”

“I’m going to go and get Frodo,” Merry said with determination. “Bilbo has had him long enough and I’m getting him back. No one else will go and get him and so I have to do it.”

Eglantine saw it all clearly now. Merry was missing his much-adored older cousin. Merry’s mum, Esmeralda had told her about how much difficulty they were having with Merry since Frodo had made the decision to go and live with Bilbo. Now she realized just how determined Merry was to get his cousin back to Buckland. “Do you think that Frodo will want to come back now?” Eglantine asked gently.

“I don’t care,” Merry said. “He’ll come. I’ll go and get him and he’ll know that I need him here more that Bilbo Baggins needs him.” Merry looked fierce now.

The baby kicked again and Eglantine winced a bit but put her attention back on Merry. “So you need him here more than Bilbo needs him?”

Merry nodded. “Frodo teaches me things. He takes me places and he tells me stories and, and I had him before Bilbo did!”

“That’s true,” Eglantine said. “Still, you have your parents and your other cousins in Buckland and your friends but I don’t think Bilbo has anyone at all living with him except Frodo.”

“I don’t care,” Merry said childishly. “I need Frodo here. Bilbo can come and live with us too but I have to have Frodo here.”

“I don’t think Bilbo will leave his home,” Eglantine said softly as she rubbed her stomach absently.

“Then he will just have to live alone,” Merry said. “I’m taking this pony to Hobbiton and I’m getting Frodo.”

Eglantine sighed. “You do seem determined but this is a rather dangerous thing that you’re doing riding all the way to Hobbiton on your own. It’s a very long way and that is a very large pony. What if you get lost?”

“I have a map,” Merry said proudly. “It’s in my pack. Frodo taught me that you always take a map if you go anyway very far away. I’ve been to Hobbiton and it takes a very long time to get there so I brought a map.”

“Can you read maps? I never was very good with them,” Eglantine said.

“Frodo showed me some of it,” Merry said a bit uncertain for once. “I think I can.” He paused and then said quickly, “But I’ve been to Hobbiton once or twice and so I can find it without a map, probably.” In fact the map that was inside of Merry's pack was actually a map of the farming fields of Buckland. It had been the only map that Merry had been able to locate. He'd been certain that Hobbiton must be on the map somewhere because Hobbiton was nearly as important a location in the Shire as Buckland and so he had brought the map along. Merry could read from children's books but he was not yet well schooled enough for maps.

The baby kicked again and she winced. Merry looked down at her worriedly. “Is the baby trying to get out?”

“No, the baby is just moving around a bit,” Eglantine sighed. “This little baby is going to be in constant motion if its beginnings are any hint at its behavior. She moves all day long and sometimes all night long.”

“How do you sleep?” Merry asked.

“Sometimes I don’t,” Eglantine laughed.

“Do you get angry at the baby?” Merry asked. “I would. I would tell it to keep still and I’d have none of that.”

Eglantine grinned at him. It was true that lads knew nothing at all about having babies and it was a very good thing that they didn’t. “No, I don’t get mad at her. She’s very tiny and she doesn’t know any better yet. When she is born then she will learn,” Eglantine smiled.

“If I were a lass I wouldn’t have any babies,” Merry said wrinkling up his nose.

“I think this one will be the last one that I have and that makes it very special,” Eglantine smiled.

Merry looked confused by this remark and so he changed the subject to something he understood well. “I can't stay here and talk now. I have to get to Hobbiton before dark.”

“I’m afraid that you won’t get there before dark, dear,” Eglantine said looking up at the sky. “It’s after one now and it takes a while to get to Hobbiton. You’ll have to stay overnight somewhere. Did you bring money?”

“I have all of the coins from my coin box,” Merry said. “I’ve been keeping them for a long time now and so I know I have enough. I haven’t spent any in two whole weeks.”

“My, that is a long time,” Eglantine said. “So you’re going to get Frodo and bring him back then?” She was stalling because she had no idea at all how to dissuade Merry from his mission. The lad looked very determined.

Merry nodded. “He’s my special cousin. He takes care of me and I take care of him.”

“I hope this baby has a special cousin too,” Eglantine said.

“If it’s a lass then it won’t need a special cousin cause it will have all those sisters,” Merry sighed. He didn’t like lasses very much just yet. He played with Pervinca sometimes and other times he would play with Pimpernel but mostly he was polite to them and he went off with his own friends. Her daughters didn’t interest Merry too much and they usually visited more with the other lasses at Brandy Hall.

“What if it’s a lad?” Eglantine asked.

“Then he’s in trouble with all of those sisters,” Merry sighed rolling his eyes in genuine sympathy for the poor child. “He’ll get bossed around and have to play games that lasses play all the time.”

“Then he’ll need a special cousin, won’t he?” Eglantine said hopefully.

“I suppose,” Merry said. “But he can’t have Frodo. Frodo is my special cousin. Everyone knows that except Bilbo and I’m going to Hobbiton to tell him right now.”

“What if you were to be the lad’s special cousin?” Eglantine said quickly in an effort to keep Merry from riding away. “Do you think you could do that?”

“I’d have to leave home and come live with you,” Merry frowned. “And all those lasses.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Eglantine said. “You could be his special cousin without moving away from home.”

“It’s better if your special cousin lives with you like Frodo lives with me,” Merry said.

“But Frodo is still your special cousin now isn’t he?” Eglantine asked.

“I guess so,” Merry said.

“I know he send you things. You get mail from him all of the time. I have seen two packages from Bag End since we’ve arrived and a couple of very long letters as well,” she said.

Merry grinned. “He sends me lots of things. He mailed me a box of rocks this week. He said so in his last letter. I should be getting it soon.”

“Rocks?”

“I collect them and Frodo knows the kind I like so he says that he’s found me a whole bunch of them and that he mailed them,” Merry said brightly.

Eglantine felt sorry for the poor post hobbit that would have to carry a box of rocks out to Brandy Hall but she said, “That’s a very nice thing for him to do.”

“If I have a lad this time then you can mail him special things too. You won’t have to be right there all of the time for him to know that you are his special cousin,” Eglantine said. “He’ll know you care because you send him things and visit him and because when you are with him you look out for him. He will be a lot younger than you and so he will need lots of looking after.”

Merry wiped at a tear in his eye. “But it’s better if your own special cousin lives with you so you don’t have to miss them all the time.”

“I know,” Eglantine said. “But sometimes we have to make the best of things.” She rubbed his stomach. “It would be better for me if this little ball of energy would stay quiet at times but this baby isn’t going to and so I have to make the best of it.” She handed Merry her lace handkerchief. He looked at it thoughtfully as if finding it too frilly to use but then wiped his nose with it. “Frodo is a very special lad and maybe Bilbo needs him for a while. It doesn’t mean that Frodo isn’t your special cousin anymore. It just means that for now he is helping Bilbo. Bilbo is old and all alone, Merry.”

“Bilbo is very, very, old,” Merry agreed. “But I wish someone else were helping Bilbo and that Frodo were here.”

“I know but you have responsibilities too,” Eglantine said.

“That baby isn’t even here yet,” Merry frowned.

“I meant you have to look out for your parents,” Eglantine said smiling. “You are the only lad they have. They don’t have any lasses or any other children at all. They love you very much and if you go off to Hobbiton they will worry.”

“I’m coming back after I get Frodo,” Merry reasoned.

“But it is still a long way and you will be gone for a while. I’m certain that you will have to talk Bilbo into letting you bring Frodo home with you and that might take several days,” Eglantine said. “Bilbo is quite the talker. He’s part Took you know.”

Merry nodded. “I am too but you can’t tell it.”

Eglantine smiled and wondered how many Brandybucks would be adventurous enough to get on a pony at eight and ride to Hobbiton. Merry was more Took than he let on she suspected. “Merry, you have to trust Frodo, do you?”

Merry nodded but said nothing.

“Then you have to trust that he still loves you more than anyone and that he will always be your special cousin. You have to let him do this thing that he needs to do. That’s part of being someone’s special cousin. You have to trust them and let them do what they have to do. Frodo needs to know that you love him but that you want him to be happy,” Eglantine said.

“So I have to let him live with Bilbo?” Merry frowned.

Eglantine nodded.

“He’s going to visit soon,” Merry said as if trying to talk himself into feeling better about it all.

“Of course he is,” Eglantine said. “And you will visit him but I do think that you should let someone know about it before you go.”

“I guess,” Merry relented. He turned suddenly and slid down off of the pony and landed on his feet. He grinned up at her. “Now I gotta get this big pony back in the barn before anyone knows it was me that took it.”

“I’ll help you if you promise not to do this again,” she smiled. “I’ll get my carriage, we’ll tie the pony to it and we can ride back to the Hall together.”

“That’s good cause my bum is tired of riding that pony,” Merry said.

Later that week Frodo get a very long, very entertaining letter from Merry all about stealing a plow pony from the barn and about how much trouble it is to have a baby. Frodo wasn’t certain why Merry was so interested in babies and he didn't believe that Merry had jumped several fences and ridden across the Brandywine Bridge on the pony but the letter was very entertaining all the same. He was also skeptical when Merry wrote about Eglantine Took having lied for him in his efforts to cover up the adventure. This didn't sound at all like the very prim Eglantine Banks Took that Frodo knew and he was certain that Merry was making that protion of his tale up. He and Bilbo particularly enjoyed the part of the letter that contained Merry's views on childbirth.

The End

GW 06/24/2007

“Leaving Home”

Pippin age 6

“No more biscuits, Peregrin Took,” Pimpernel said sternly as her younger brother reached for another handful of the warm treats.

“I need more than this for my sack,” Pippin objected holding out the sack in question for his sister’s inspection.

Pimpernel frowned.

“I’ll be gone a very long time and all on my own. I could starve before I get where I’m going,” Pippin urged with pleading eyes.

Pimpernel sighed and put three more biscuits into the sack. “That’s enough. If you think you are in danger of starving then maybe you shouldn’t be running away from home today.”

“I’ll be fine,” Pippin said pulling the sack closed. “I have my pack and Errol and my food.”

“Well you just be careful,” Pearl said as she entered the kitchen followed by Merry Brandybuck. “The last time you ran away you scraped both of your knees and one elbow.”

“I’ll be careful, Pearl,” Pippin said looking up at her and smiling. The scabs on his knees were still healing.

“I tried to talk him out of running away today but he has his mind set on it and you know how stubborn he is,” Pimpernel sighed.

“I’m not stubborn,” Pippin frowned wrinkling up his nose which was dotted with tiny freckles. “I’m running away on a’count of all of the hard work and the way they treat us here. But I'm not stubborn.”

“Of course not,” Pimpernel said grinning over at Pearl. “Not you.”

“Hullo, Merry!” Pippin said smiling brightly as his older cousin entered the kitchen. “I’m running away from home. Want to come?”

“Why are you running away from home?” Merry yawned. He and his parents had arrived the night before for a visit and Merry was still only about half awake. Pippin had kept him up most of the night chattering. The youngster had been so excited when Merry had arrived that he'd insisted that Merry sleep in his room. This might have been all right *if* Pippin had allowed Merry to do any sleeping. Instead Pippin had told Merry one story after another until the child had finally drifted off to sleep in mid-sentence.

“Cause I got to,” Pippin said. “If I don’t then I’ll be locked up in my room and have to clean the whole smial all by my ownself. I might even be beaten.”

“Twice,” Pearl said knowingly.

Merry looked at her to try and see if she were serious. He sometimes couldn’t tell with Pearl. She could be hard to read. Pippin interrupted his thoughts by tugging Merry’s sleeve. “You better come too or they’ll make you work and they won’t feed you anything but a crust of bread,” Pippin said.

“I’m not doing any work. I’m visiting,” Merry objected with another yawn.

“It doesn’t matter. They don’t give you any choice. You just have to work all day in the hot sun in the garden or in the kitchens,” Pippin said. “Not me though. I’m running away and no one will ever catch me will they Pearl?”

“No they won’t,” Pearl smiled. “You’ll be far, far, away and you won’t have to work here any more.”

Pippin nodded. “Errol’s coming too. Don’t you wanna come, Merry?”

“Pip, they’re teasing you,” Merry said frowning at Pearl and Pimpernel. “You don’t have to work. You’re only six years old.”

“They make the little ones work too,” Pippin said looking very sad. “It’s awful. Some of them die.”

“Pippin!” Merry objected horrified.

“Two died only last week,” Pearl sighed calmly.

“They were so young,” Pippin said wiping at his eyes as if he were crying but he didn’t appear to be. “That’s why I got to leave quick. I’m too clever to die that young.”

Pimpernel snorted and Pippin glared at her. “I am clever, Nelly,” Pippin said looking annoyed.

“Like a fox,” Pearl assured him.

“Bye, Merry. Don’t work too hard and die,” Pippin said as he started for the door.

“Stop him,” Merry hissed at Pimpernel. “He really means to do it.”

“Of course he does,” Pimpernel said. “He’s spent the morning packing. You should go with him.” She gave Merry a thoughtful glance. “You don’t want to die in the garden.” She raised her eyebrows at him as she spoke.

Merry swallowed. Pippin's older sisters were rather odd and it was too early in the morning to deal with this sort of thing. The poor little lad must lead a dreadful life. “That’s rubbish!” he said but he wasn’t entirely certain that these two lasses weren't up to something. Lasses were always up to something.

Pippin waved and smiled and then turned suddenly serious as he opened the door. “I’ll miss all of you and I hope you get away before it’s too late,” Pippin said biting his lower lip. “I’ll bring back help if I can!”

“Good-bye, Pippin,” Pearl said dramatically. “You’re so brave going out on your own this way.”

“I know,” Pippin said looking impressed with himself. “Bye, Merry!” And with that the tiny lad hurried out of the kitchen door nearly knocking his sister, Pervinca down as he went.

Pervinca glared at him and shouted, “And don’t come back!”

“I won’t!” Pippin called out.

Pervinca entered the kitchen and slammed the door shut. “I hope he goes further than the barn this time.”

“He isn’t allowed to go further than the barn,” Pimpernel said.

Pervinca reached across the table and took a biscuit. “Well, if he’s taken any of my things in that pack of his then he better keep running. The last time he went he took one of my bears. He said that Errol wanted a friend along.”

Pearl giggled. “I think he has taken most of our food this time so I doubt that he has room for any of your things.”

“Silly twit,” Pervinca muttered as she munched her biscuit. “Lads are dreadful.”

“Doesn’t anyone care that he is going off on his own because he’s afraid he’ll be worked to death in the garden?” Merry objected looking upset.

Pervinca snorted. “What game are you playing?”

“What do you mean?” Merry frowned. “I’m not playing anything. I think I’m the only one who cares about Pippin around here. I’ve half a mind to take him back to Buckland with me since none of you are watching him. He’s only six! He shouldn’t go to the barn alone. He isn’t old enough to go anywhere alone.”

“You’re absolutely right, Merry,” Pearl smiled. “You do have half a mind.”

Pimpernel laughed and Merry glared at all three of Pippin’s sisters. “I’m going after him.”

“He asked you to come along,” Pimpernel pointed out.

“Well someone has to watch him,” Merry said.

“Watch who?” Paladin Took asked coming into the kitchen.

“Pippin,” all three lasses said.

“What’s he done now and how did he manage to do it before I've had my first breakfast?” Paladin demanded.

“He’s running away from home and these three are letting him go,” Merry said. “I think they told him that he’d be worked to death if he stays. He thinks someone’s been killed here already.”

“Two little lads,” Paladin nodded lighting his pipe. “They died from the work and the heat and because they didn’t have enough food to eat but one brave little lad managed to escape. He was clever and ran away and got help for all of those that were being worked unfairly in the fields. Quite a story really.”

Merry’s mouth fell open. “It’s a story?”

“Of course it’s a story. I didn’t think it was a proper story for a lad Pippin’s age mind you. I would never have permitted him to hear it had I known before hand. Your cousin, Frodo read it to him,” Paladin said frowning slightly.

“Frodo read Pippin a story about little lads dying in the fields?” Merry looked even more stunned.

“He did and I had a word with him on the subject but apparently I was wrong. It seems that I over reacted,” Paladin sighed. “Pippin has enjoyed himself very much because of that story. He doesn't seem to dwell on the deaths or the other unpleasant portions of the tale. Instead he has become very keen on running away from home to get help. It is the rescue that he enjoys and the rest of the story seems not to have troubled him in the least. This is the third time this week that he’s run away from home.” Paladin Took said this as if this were a normal activity for a child of six.

“Fourth,” Pearl corrected.

“You mean he is playing as if he is a character in the story?” Merry said feeling foolish.

“He is the clever lad who escapes,” Pearl smiled. “Apparently Frodo renamed the character from the actual story. He called the lad Peregrin or Pip for short. The clever lad saves up his food and waits for a chance to escape for his evil captors who are working him and lots of others nearly to death. He packs up all of his belongings.”

“But he doesn’t have much because he’s real poor,” Pervinca sighed. “That’s what I can’t understand. Pippin always leaves here with half of the smial! The lad in that story doesn't have anything. That isn’t at all like the story is it?”

“No, perhaps not,” Paladin smiled. "I do believe that Pippin gets rather creative with the lesser details."

“And he goes off in search of help, which apparently is in the barn,” Pimpernel grinned. “Every time he runs away he brings back one of our farm workers at about tea time and announces that the poor farm hand is here to rescue all of the over-worked lads from the fields.”

“You wait, Merry,” Paladin grinned. “You’ll enjoy that part of it. I believe that portion of the story is the reason I forgave Frodo for reading the thing to Pippin. It’s very dramatic. Sometimes Pippin passes out in the doorway from hunger, sometimes he makes a grand speech, and depending upon which field hand he coaxes into doing the rescue we get treated to varying degrees of acting skill as our farm hands each take a turn at saving the day.”

“Then they usually stay for tea with our brave, clever lad,” Pearl said grinning. “In fact if you want to be the hero of the day then go out to the barn just before tea time and I am certain that Pippin will let you be the one who does the rescue.”

“This is barking mad,” Merry moaned still slightly embarrassed that he hadn't realized what was going on.

“Actually, if gives Pippin an adventure,” Paladin smiled. “It also entertains him and keeps him out from under foot for a portion of the day. In fact if I had known that Pippin would enjoy such a thing so much I might have read him a few violent books myself.”

“But he’s in the barn all by himself. He could get hurt,” Merry objected. He still wasn't certain that the Tooks were taking this seriously enough.

“No, he isn’t alone. He may think he is but one of the farm workers is lurking about close. We all take turns watching after him and he knows not to venture any further than the barn,” Paladin said. “I believer Tucker is on watch at present isn’t he Nell?”

“Yes, he’s the one,” Pimpernel smiled. “I do wish Tucker were doing the rescue at the end today. He’s very good. He yells loudly and charges into the parlor with such a racket that you’d think he really was doing a rescue.”

“I thought I was very good. Better than Tucker,” Pervinca objected.

“You were quite splendid,” Paladin offered smiling at his youngest daughter.

“You fell over the edge of the carpet,” Pimpernel pointed out.

“That wasn’t my fault!” Pervinca objected.

“What does he do in the barn all afternoon?” Merry wanted to know.

“Silly little lad stuff,” Pervinca sighed. “He walks all over the barn like he’s going somewhere but all he is doing is walking in circles talking to himself. Sometimes he plays in the hay or pets the cows and sometimes he gets very dirty and he smells when he comes in for tea.”

“And all of this is Frodo’s fault?” Merry sighed.

“It is,” Paladin said. “That lad has a way with a tale and Pippin enjoys play acting so this was the result.”

“Madness,” Merry muttered but later Merry laughed the hardest and played his part the best when Pippin dragged one of the farm workers into the parlor for the rescue. It was indeed Tucker and Merry could certainly see that Tucker had acting ability. In fact Merry found out later that several of the farm hands actually competed with one another by drawing straws in order to be the one that got to do the rescue and come to tea. It seems that Frodo’s story was entertaining the entire farm.

***

“Pip,” Merry whispered as they lay in the bed in Pippin’s room that night.

“Yes?”

“You won’t really run away from home will you?” Merry asked.

“Of course not,” Pippin said hugging his stuffed rabbit tightly in his arms. “I wouldn’t be afraid to go but everyone would miss me too much and they’d be lost without me.” Pippin yawned.

“I suppose you’re right,” Merry agreed when he could speak without laughing.

The End

GW 06/24/2007