Magical Mystical Cave

Year: 1388 (Merry is 5½, Frodo is 19½)

Frodo led the way through the low, narrow cavern now scuttling on all fours, now slithering along on his belly. Condensed water dripped from the rocks and sometimes Frodo's hands splashed into cold puddles.

"I don't like it here, Fro," Merry grouched. "It's so close."

"We're almost through," Frodo assured his young cousin. "The air is getting better already. Can't you feel it?"

Behind him Merry took a deep breath, sneezed and with a suppressed cough in his voice confirmed: "Yes and our voices echo too, don't they, Frodo? We must be getting somewhere huge."

"An ancient hall perhaps, or a dragon's lair," Frodo suggested scrambling through an exceptionally deep puddle. This was certainly not the best way he had chosen so far but it was the only one that hadn't led further down. Besides, the other tunnel had been blocked by stones, which had left him even more concerned than Merry. His young cousin trusted him to find the way out of the misery they had somehow landed in and Frodo would not tell the child that they were lost. He supposed, though, that they were going the wrong way - moving further in instead of out of the cave.

"No dragon," a voice behind him whispered and Frodo smiled at the slight whiff of fear. Silence followed then that voice brightened. "Let it be a unicorn!"

Frodo paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. "A unicorn?" He frowned. "Merry-dear, have you ever heard of a unicorn in Middle-earth?"

"Da told me a story about them," Merry insisted. "They are white as snow and their horn shines silver in the dark. Snow-white looks like one of them."

"Is that why you named her so?" Frodo asked, and smiled as Merry nodded proudly.

"She's beautiful."

Frodo had to agree. The filly was indeed a beauty and Cousin Merimac was more than a little smug to have her. Her temper, however, was quite a bit livelier than Frodo imagined that of a unicorn to be. They were gentle creatures it was said, full of grace and natural charm. Snow-white was wild, untamed and…

Frodo stopped short causing Merry to bump into him and mumble an inquiry that was both anxious and excited. They had reached the end of the tunnel and were now standing on a cliff reaching out from an opening in the stone. Fresh, cool wind caressed Frodo's cheek, a welcome change to the stifling air in the tunnel. Wide-eyed and with bated breath Frodo glanced about him. They had indeed reached what seemed like a huge hall. Above them the walls and pillars reached into infinite darkness and below something glistened white and blue as if reflecting a non-existent source of light. It must be an underground lake but Frodo couldn't tell how far down it was.

"What happened, Frodo?" Merry asked, anxious to have a look himself.

"We've managed," Frodo informed the youngster, relief obvious in his voice. "We're through." He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "Now we only need to get down."

"Down?" Merry asked in confusion.

"Yes," Frodo confirmed, "down - or do you want to stay here?"

Merry shook his head and Frodo returned his attention to a possible way downwards. The cliff's edge was smooth and slick and as far as Frodo could tell there was no way of gaining purchase on the wall to climb down. They would have to jump and hope for the best. Frodo hesitated for a second. Merry would not be pleased with his plan of action so it would be better not to let him in on his intention and just go for it.

Carefully he crawled closer to the edge, leaned over it and let go before Merry could even gasp out his name. With a splash Frodo landed in the cold water. For a couple of seconds he seemed to float, his hair wafting about him in single strands. Then his feet touched bottom and Frodo pushed himself upwards only to hear Merry scream his name.

"It's all right," he called to the child. "Jump down. The fall is short and the lake deep enough."

"You can't just jump down," Merry told him indignantly. "I was frightened. I didn't know what was going on."

"You do now. Jump!"

"I can't swim," Merry informed him.

Frodo rolled his eyes. "I will catch you."

"Are you sure?" the younger one questioned and Frodo didn't need to see his face to know about the deep line of worry set on his cousin's forehead.

"I am," he assured. Above his head he could hear his cousin move, heard the soft trickle of debris falling down and then a shout echoed in the hall. A moment later Merry plunged into the water beside him. Frodo reacted swiftly and before his cousin could sink below the surface he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up again. Spluttering and coughing Merry reached for Frodo's shirt, almost pulling him under, then grabbed him by the shoulder and struggled to keep above the freezing water. Frodo barely managed to get a secure hold on him but after some reassuring words he was successful and quickly swam to the nearby shore.

"We need light," Frodo noted while he tried to get rid of the water in his ears.

"The candles are over there," Merry told him helpfully and pointed. Frodo followed the way his cousin's index finger indicated. Wrinkling his nose he then turned to the child once more and raised an eyebrow. At that Merry gasped and quickly corrected himself. "The torches! There are torches over there. I could see their light flicker from above."

Frodo smiled. "That's a good lad," he praised and patted the young one's head. "One day you're going to be as great an adventurer as I am."

Merry beamed from one ear to the other. "That would be nice." He linked arms with Frodo and looked expectantly into the smiling blue eyes. "What are we going to do next? Where are we?"

"Let me see." Frodo scanned his surroundings, which wasn't an easy task since it was still very dark. Yet he could tell they were in a huge subterranean hall of dark stone with pillars rising high above their heads. He could also make out several tunnels and small caverns leading into every direction. It seemed they were standing in the middle of a huge circle with arms reaching out to every side. It would be difficult to decide on one way but Frodo thought that, once he had some more light, he would know where to go.

Carefully the two hobbits walked towards the direction of the torches when the ground suddenly shook under heavy steps and a voice thundered: "Frodo! Merry!"

Merry gasped and clutched his hand. Fearful eyes met his and Frodo felt a tremor going down his spine. "We must have wakened the dragon," he whispered and ignored the widening eyes and the open mouth. "Quick! We must find somewhere to hide."

With that Frodo darted to a hole on their left dragging Merry with him. Short legs stumbled, barely able to keep up with his and Merry all but sank against him when Frodo crouched into their shelter. His heart raced, its beat drumming in his ears. Merry was not at all better off. The child trembled, pressed close against him and as the steps drew nearer he turned to face Frodo. "No dragon," he whispered and Frodo smiled.

"From the sound of its steps it can only be a dragon or a troll," he murmured back. "Perhaps it's a troll. It's going to squash us with its club and then it will have us for dinner."

"No troll!" Merry told him indignantly forgetting to keep his voice low. Frodo hushed him but the expression on the young face was determined and Merry continued in the same tone. "Trolls are tall, fat, and ugly. He isn't ugly."

"It," Frodo corrected not willing to let the fun be spoiled. He laid a hand on the young one's mouth and pulled his cousin closer as the huge feet moved past their hiding place. Merry pressed back against him as if suddenly remembering what this was all about. Both stared wide-eyed at the passing feet whose stomping steps echoed so loudly in the hall.

Luckily, the owner of said feet didn't discover them and even as both hobbits breathed a silent sigh of relief Merry turned to Frodo once again. "Maybe we can make him a centaur?" he whispered hopefully. "He wouldn't be ugly then but proud and strong. He is that, you know."

Slightly annoyed Frodo quirked an eyebrow and pondered this for a moment, one part of him still listening for the steps of the intruder. "Yes, perhaps it could have been a centaur." He pricked his ears. "At least it sounded like the steps of hooves."

"Four hooves," Merry agreed quietly. "Didn't you see them when they moved past?"

"Now that you mention it--," Frodo started but he never got to finish his comment for his ankle was suddenly grabbed by cold hands. He yelped in surprise and kicked his foot reflexively. Merry screamed beside him and backed away, yet Frodo was quicker. He was released the moment he started struggling and almost ran over Merry as he made his way into the open, almost bumping into one of the pillars.

"Easy, lads, easy!" the centaur called out and held his arms out in front of him to confine further panic.

Frodo, heart racing even faster than before, and breath coming out in short gasps, pressed back against the pillar trembling from the sudden fright. Merry clung to his leg, his expression almost as fearful as Frodo felt himself.

Slowly, very slowly the image faded. The dark cave vanished and what remained was the greatest of all junk rooms in Brandy Hall. Desks, drawers, cupboards, and old beds and mattresses were arranged everywhere. The dim light of very few lamps shone from various corners of the room. Dust lay thick on several pieces of the old furniture. His shirt and breeches were covered with fluff balls, as were Merry's. To their left were two tables, the smaller standing on top of the larger - the space between tabletop and legs representing the passage he and Merry had come from. An old, yellowish mattress lay below - the lake. In front of them, behind the desk under which Merry and he had sought shelter, stood Saradoc, brow furrowed with confusion.

"What in the Shire are you lads doing?" his cousin asked, startled.

"What in the Shire were you doing when you grabbed me?" Frodo shot back. For a long moment he held the stunned, questioning look in the eyes that met his then, as if suddenly realising whom he was speaking to, he bit his lip and lowered his head. Nevertheless Saradoc kept staring but before Frodo's guardian could rebuke him Merry recovered from his shock.

"Da!" he called out and ran into his father's arms. Saradoc lifted him up easily even while the information burst forth. "It was grand! Frodo was telling a story about an adventure and we were both a part of it. Frodo wanted to make you a troll but they are fat and ugly. But, don't worry, I told him you aren't ugly, so now you're a centaur."

"A centaur?" Saradoc inquired raising an eyebrow. He sneaked a glance at Frodo who could barely keep from snickering. "Not ugly?" This was addressed to Meriadoc who nodded vigorously. Those eyes wandered to him once more and Frodo bit his lips to hide his amusement.

"I see," Saradoc finally concluded and walked around the desk to look long and intently at Frodo. The green eyes turned stern and Frodo was suddenly unable to meet them, the smile dying on his lips. "That imagination of yours is running quite a bit wild, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Frodo replied uncertainly, worried at the tone in his guardian's voice.

"I wish you would put the same passion into your studies," his cousin went on matter-of-factly. "Uncle Dinodas missed one of his students this morning."

Frodo flinched, remembering how he had sneaked away that morning. His interest in calculations and the importance of trade between the Four Farthings and Buckland was pretty moderate. He wasn't going to be a tradeshobbit anyway. He would rather learn about history and not only about the settling of the Shire or the genealogies. He wanted to hear the great stories, the tales Bilbo would tell him whenever they met. Saradoc would never understand that. He was far too prosaic. But why did he tell Merry stories about unicorns then?

Frodo sneaked a glance towards his guardian, not sure whether he could dare to meet his gaze. To his distress his cousin was still looking and once Frodo moved his head the green eyes held his in a way that made Frodo more than just a little uncomfortable. "I expect you to meet with your uncle tomorrow and make up the time you have lost."

"Yes, sir," Frodo mumbled dutifully and distracted himself by searching Merry's gaze. The child still sat in his father's arms and looked from one face to the other in concern, not understanding the change of mood. Frodo pitied the lad almost more than he did himself. He was wishing that he could take him from his father again and return to their play when Saradoc's face unexpectedly brightened.

"So, I was an evil centaur?"

The lines on Merry's brow smoothed and his eyes shone happily. "You frightened Frodo a lot."

"I did, didn't I?" the older one smiled at Frodo and waved the lad to his side as he led the way into the corridor. "I didn't mean to scare him so much though."

Frodo stood dumbstruck for a moment listening to the conversation between father and son with open mouth. That was it? No long lecture on priorities and the importance of staying rooted to the ground? No kitchen duties where he should think over his actions? Frodo's lips twitched slightly. Saradoc must be in a really good mood today and Frodo had better not challenge his luck by questioning his reasons.

"Frodo, hurry up, lad! Dinner isn't waiting!"

That successfully roused him, and with a last look at his own mystic cave Frodo darted after his cousins and let all creatures that might still await them here rest for another night.

~THE END~