Title: A Fine Plan

Author: Shireling

Rating: (G)

Genre: drama/humour/  Loving Discipline

Warning: None

Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine!

Summary: Merry has a run-in with the Sackville-Baggins'

A/N: A (slightly late) Birthday mathom for Cathleen and all those

who love a little Hobbit mischief!

A FINE PLAN

" `Scuse me sayin so, Master Frodo, but I'm fearing that somethin's up with your cousins!"

Frodo allowed his gaze to leave the page of Sindarin text he was attempting to translate and flick across to where his two cousins were currently ensconced at the top of the garden. Now that Sam mentioned it, the two had been unusually quiet all morning, especially Merry. Though it made for a peaceful change, even Frodo had to admit to himself that it was an occurrence so rare as to make it a mite troublesome.

"How long have they been up there, Sam?" Frodo asked. He had been so engrossed in his book that he had lost track of time and only realized just how much time had passed by the position of the sun

overhead.

Sam stuck his small trowel into the soft loamy soil of the rose bed he was weeding and wiped his sleeve across his brow. "Well, ever since they got back from their errands at the market. They skedaddled

off up to the tree-house just as quick as quick. . .coming to think of it, I don't reckon they've even been down for elevenses."

"Well, that is cause for concern, Sam. If they passed up the opportunity to sample your Mamma's scones there must be serious trouble!" Frodo grinned.

"You don't reckon they're brewing somethin' serious do you, Master Frodo? Only Mr Bilbo will be right upset if you catch a fever from them again, like you did when they visited at Yule."

"That was hardly their fault, Sam. Anyone can get sick, and with the number of Hobbits also stricken both here and in Tuckborough I could have caught it from anyone."

"Aye, Master Frodo, but Mr Bilbo and my Mamma were that worried about you. . .Mr Bilbo never stepped out the door for a whole fortnight!"

"You played your part, too, Sam."

"I didn't do no nursing, Master Frodo."

"No, Sam but you kept the household running and everyone warm and fed while Bilbo and Belle ran around after us."

"That's my job, Master Frodo."

"You did more than your job, Samwise Gamgee and now you are officially a salaried and much appreciated employee of Bag End. . .I saw just how proud The Gaffer was when he let the word slip in the Green Dragon. . .fair puffed up he was," Frodo affirmed making Sam blush beet red and turn back to his weeding with flustered gusto.

Frodo allowed Sam a moment to compose himself, for while Frodo would never dream of embarrassing his friend in front of others he made a point of praising his shy and diffident young friend. Sam had a hard task living up to the Gaffer's exacting standards; that he did so with diligence and good humour was a rare gift. The Gaffer was sparing with his praise, not wanting his youngest to `get above his station', but Frodo had seen the Gaffer's pride when Bilbo had suggested Sam take over responsibility for the caretaking and gardens of Bag End.

"Be that as it may, Master Frodo but what's to do about Master Merry and Master Pippin?" Sam said nodding his head towards the oak tree and its two unnaturally quiet occupants.

"If you've done there for a while, Sam, why don't you go and put the kettle on and I will see if I can coax  them down with a promise of tea and strawberry scones."

"Right you are, Master Frodo. I think I can risk leaving these last few pesky weeds till later."

"Not afraid they'll run riot, then?" Frodo teased.

"Oh, no, Sir. I've got their measure! Gaffer's got even the weeds trained in this garden!" Sam grinned, brandishing his trowel like a sword.

"Begone, Sir Samwise, vanquisher of errant greenery." Frodo teased

"At your command, Prince Frodo, herder of errant cousins." Sam saluted and trotted off to the kitchen to the echo of Frodo's softchuckles.

**********

"Well, Master Frodo, did you find out what was bothering your cousins?" Sam asked later.

"Not really, but by the way they polished off that plate of scones, I don't think they are coming down with anything contagious," Frodo reassured him.

"Well that's a blessing, what with Mr Bilbo not due back until the end of next week."

"I'm sure it’s nothing serious. Perhaps they just had a falling out with some of their pals. . .I'm sure it will blow over. Merry and Pippin never stay down for long."

"You don't think they got up into any mischief when they went to the market, do you?" Sam queried.

"Well, we've had no irate farmers or outraged stallholders seeking recompense. . ."

The words had barely left his lips when the sound of angry hammering ricocheted along the corridors of BagEnd.

"OH, NOooo!" Frodo exclaimed, going pale, "I recognise that knock!"

"You don't mean. . .?"

"Yes, Sam. I fear we are about to be blessed with a visitation by my esteemed cousins, the Sackville-Baggins'. . .and I have a horrible feeling they have not come to exchange pleasantries!" Frodo grimaced. "Put the kettle on, Sam, and lock the door to the best parlour; Bilbo will be most displeased if anymore silver spoons go missing."

Later. . .much later, Frodo leaned against the front door, thankful that he had finally managed to usher Lobelia off the premises. He had even escorted her as far as the gate, keen to make sure she had really gone. His head ached with the strain of the overly-long and acrimonious visitation.

"Cup of tea, Master Frodo?" Sam popped his head round the kitchen door and graced Frodo with a rueful smile.

"Make it a mug of ale, Sam. I need something stronger than tea,"Frodo gasped, theatrically clutching his chest, his ears still ringing from Lobelia's harping.

"Not a social visit them, Sir?" Sam asked, passing Frodo a mug of ale and pouring a smaller one for himself. By mutual consent they went out into the garden to a seat in a shady corner.

"Any idea where Merry and Pippin have disappeared to, Sam?"

"Sorry, they came in earlier but when they realised that Miss Lobelia was here they high-tailed it back out like they had farmer Maggot's hounds after them," Sam explained.

"Well that makes sense. . .apparently Merry had a run-in with Lobelia in the marketplace this morning."

"What happened?" Sam asked, not liking the worried frown creasing Frodo's brow.

"According to Lobelia she caught Merry `bullying' her dear son Lotho" Frodo explained, swigging down half a tankard of ale.

"That doesn't sound like Mr Merry, Sir."

"No. No it doesn't. But it does explain why he has been so subdued today. Apparently Lobelia boxed his ears right there in the market square and promised to write directly to Buckland to inform The

Master of the assault and of his son's rowdy and uncouth behavior!"

"But the Master isn't at Buckland, is he? He's still at Michel Delving with Mr Bilbo."

"Fortunately that fact seems to have bypassed her antennae! I will send him a message via the quick-post in case he hears of it on the gossip grapevine and will assure him that I will look into it and

that Merry is safe here with me."

"But what will you do, Master Frodo?"

"First I'm going down to the market to see if I can find out what really happened.

"You don't believe Mistress Lobelia then, Sir?"

"I don't believe I have heard the full story, no. And I will reserve judgment until I have also heard Merry's side of the story."

Frodo put on his best waistcoat and jacket, intending to make a good impression as Bilbo's representative. "If Merry and Pippin return before I do, please tell them to wait here for me. Don't let

them go wandering off again," he said before setting off to the marketplace with a determined stride.

*******

Merry was bent on revenge!

It burned inside him, tightening his stomach into hard, unyielding knots.

He was bent on revenge and it no longer mattered to him what that revenge cost him.

Frodo knew the truth of it;  his fact finding visit to the stallholders had convinced him that, while Merry had indeed felled Lotho with an impressive right hook, he had only struck out when his efforts to pull Lotho off a much younger hobbit failed.

Lotho had been laying in wait in an alley besides the baker's to waylay unwary youngsters and relieve them of their purchases. The young hobbit he accosted refused to hand over his pastries without a

fight and when Merry and Pippin came upon the scene Lotho had the youngster pinned up against the wall. Unfortunately Lobelia was not far away and heard the commotion. Upon seeing her son lying in the lane cradling his bloody nose in his fist with Merry standing over him she shrieked, dropped her basket and grasped Merry by the ear and dragged him into the square. Unfortunately Lotho's victim slipped away in the confusion and so it was just Merry's word against Lotho's; Lobelia totally discounted Pippin's protestations of Lotho's actions. Lobelia shook Merry until his teeth rattled and then soundly boxed his ears while loudly berating him The altercation quickly drew a large crowd, few of whom missed Lotho's

smirking behind his outraged Mamma's back.

With a promise to lodge a formal complaint with the Master of Buckland and the Mayor, Lobelia led her poor injured son away, only getting as far as the Green Dragon before Lotho claimed he felt feint and needed to sit down before continuing home.

To all intents and purposes life at Bag End resumed its normal rhythm. Reassured by Frodo that he considered the matter with Lobelia to be closed, Merry appeared to put the incident behind him.

Merry planned his campaign with stealth. Only Sam was aware he slipped out early some mornings before the rest of the household were awake but as Merry was always back in time for first breakfast

the young gardener didn't think it was his place to interfere, especially as there was not even a whisper of trouble.

Merry's first forays were merely to observe his target and to familiarise himself with their movements. With an idea of where to stage his ambush, he next planned how to execute his plan to best

effect. This called for a couple of reconnaissance visits later in the day, his intent concealed by offering to run errands to the village, often with Pippin in tow. In reality the plan was so simple Merry wondered why he had never thought of it before; it required little in the way of preparation and, while he had no control over the specific conditions required for the plan to succeed, once those conditions occurred implementation was simple and, he hoped, foolproof.

It was not long after first breakfast on a very grey and wet morning that Merry expressed a need to visit the market. Despite the earliness of the hour Frodo detected in Merry's manner a level of tension that set his trouble sensor twitching.

"It looks like we're in for some more heavy rain, Merry, wouldn't it be better to wait till later? The gaffer predicted that it would brighten up by luncheon, we could go then," Frodo suggested.

"Don't be such a fuss-bucket, cousin. A little rain won’t hurt me. . .and I don't need an escort!"

"Merry, what's so important that you need to go now?"

"No special reason, I just fancied a walk."

"Well, I suppose we could all do with a little fresh air. I still have to collect that new ink for Bilbo."

"Perhaps you should stay here. . .you have a bit of a sore throat, don't you, Pip!"

"NO, Merry. I'm fine, really I am," Pippin assured him, wondering why Merry had pinched his arm under the table and was flashing him a wicked glare.

"I'm sure I heard you coughing in the night, Pip," Merry growled.

"I'm fine, really, Merry," Pippin assured him with his sunniest

smiles.

"Very well, let's go then. . .but don't blame me, Frodo, when Pippin goes down with another dose of lung fever!" Merry groused.

The three cousins paddled down to the market, splashing in the muddy puddles from the heavy overnight rain. Because of the inclement weather the marketplace was brightened by brightly coloured

sailcloth awnings erected by the merchants for the comfort and convenience of their patrons and to help keep their goods dry. While the awnings of the market stalls were temporary, many of the

shopkeepers had erected more permanent ones.

Frodo grimaced as they approached the marketplace and he realized that they would have to pass close by where Lobelia was holding court in front of the bakery with her cronies, her strident voice a sour note that grated on his nerves. He bobbed his head to acknowledge her, a gesture she pointedly ignored, and pulled his two cousins away from her malevolent scrutiny.

They browsed the stalls and visited the butcher, then stopped to select some toffees. When Frodo and Pippin stopped by the bookseller’s stall, Merry slipped away muttering about a call of nature. He dodged between the stalls and scooted around behind the baker's into the alley. Once in position he reached up and loosed a string hidden in the gutter. Keeping low he inched forward until he could peep around to the front of the store and, when a group of Mamma's moved away, he gave a sharp tug on the string and after a moments resistance was rewarded when a small wooden peg shot backwards towards him. Without waiting to see the results of his action he stuffed the peg and string into his pocket as he retraced his steps. He grinned when the outraged shriek echoed around the marketplace. The whole mission had taken only a couple of minutes.

Frodo had finished his purchase for Bilbo when he happened to glance around for Merry. What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. He spied Lobelia waving off her entourage when the blue and white sailcloth awning above her gave way, releasing the large puddle of rainwater that had accumulated overnight.

Stunned by the icy deluge, for long moments she stood gasping and flapping for breath. One of the two poles supporting the awning tipped sideways and fell to the ground, causing the wet canvas to envelope the now shrieking Hobbitess. By the time the crowd of concerned citizens surged forward Merry had appeared at Frodo's side.

"Frodo, Me-merry, did ya see that!" Pippin squealed.

"Aye. . .Oh, My!" Frodo uttered.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer person!" Merry said, loudly enough that several stallholders nearby sniggered.

That started it. Frodo dragged Merry and Pippin out of sight behind a stall as they all collapsed, convulsed with laughter. Every time they tried to get a grip on their mirth one or the other would giggle and start them all off again. It took many minutes before they were composed enough to put in an appearance and by then Lobelia had been whisked away. Frodo sent his cousins on home with their purchases while he finished his errands.

Frodo made the bakery his last stop and he and the baker stood surveying the site of the `incident'. "I don't understand it, Master Frodo," Able Stonley muttered, scratching his head.

"Lobelia was most displeased, I take it!" Frodo said, unable to quite keep his countenance straight.

"Aye. . .promised never to shop here again, she did. Well, it will be no loss to me if she takes herself off and gossips elsewhere and stops frightening my customers away," the harassed merchant muttered.

"What happened? Did the canvas give way?" Frodo asked.

"No, Sir, it wasn't the canvas, that is still intact. No, it seems one of the pegs failed, though I only had them replaced a while ago." The baker pulled a broken fragment of a wooden peg from the pocket of his apron and held it out for Frodo to examine.

The awning had been dismantled and the fallen pole had been lifted away from the street and placed in the alleyway out of harms way. Frodo knelt down to examine it. The joint appeared to be whole and

undamaged. As he rose, Frodo noticed something trampled into the mud a few feet further into the alley. He picked up the distinctive round stone and flicked it up into the air a couple of times and his

mind whirred with sudden possibilities..He wiped the stone on a handkerchief and dropped it into his pocket; a last check on the pole hardened his suspicion, the joint hole was damp with a smear of goose-grease.

Frodo and Sam were enjoying a snack when Merry trailed in from the garden.

"Tea, Merry?" Frodo asked, patting the bench in invitation for his cousin to join them. "Where's Pip?" he asked when Merry's shadow failed to follow in his wake.

"He nodded off under the oak," Merry explained, pointing back up the garden.

"He's not out in the sun, is he, Mr Merry? The sun's right fierce now considering how wet it was earlier," Sam asked crossing to the kitchen window to check on the little Took.

"Not as wet as Lobelia!" Merry sniggered helping himself to a piece of seedcake. "And no, Sam, I made sure he was in the shade," Merry assured him.

"I was just explaining to Sam how fortunate it was that the accident didn't happen a few moments earlier," Frodo said, watching Merry carefully and sensing the feint spasm of tension flash across his cousin's face. Frodo winked at Sam.

"Yes indeed, a few seconds earlier and half a dozen Dames and Gammers would have been caught in the deluge," Frodo explained for Sam's benefit. "One to have had a fortunate escape was Violet Twofeet. . .with her weak heart such a shock might have been catastrophic!"

"Aye, Master Frodo. . .I hope Ms Lobelia won't take no lasting harm."

"I think I'll just go and check on Pip," Merry muttered, abandoning his tea and a plateful of cake crumbs.

"Sit still, Merry. I can see Pip from here," Frodo instructed. Merry subsided back onto the bench and stared longingly at the door.

"It's a good job it appears to have been an accident, Mr Frodo. Can you imagine the stink Ms Lobelia would stir up if it was found to have been the result of a prank."

"I dread to think about it, Sam. What say you, Merry?"

"Who said it wasn't an accident?" Merry blustered.

"No one. . .yet!"

"Aye, Master Frodo. Can you imagine Mr Bilbo's reaction to such an outrage enacted upon such a near. . .and vocal. . . relative?"

"I am relieved that I am entirely in the clear with regard to this matter. Bilbo has only ever hand-spanked me but for such a serious infraction. . .well who knows what he would be forced to resort to!" Frodo shuddered, picking up a butter paddle from hook on the dresser and tapping it against his palm.

"Yes and I've heard tell that the Master and the Thain have both been known to cut a switch at need," San whispered. "And the Gaffer. . .well, his strap still hangs on the back of the shed door."

A tense silence settled over the kitchen.

"Merry?" Frodo's voice was quiet but commanding as he pulled two items from his pocket and set them on the table in front of his squirming cousin. Merry gulped.

"Merry, turn out your pockets." Frodo ordered. Merry had rarely seen this side to Frodo and he wondered if it was worth trying to bluff his way out of trouble. A quick glance at Frodo's stern and knowing countenance convinced him it was not.

He didn't bother with the twist of toffee, the penknife, or the pouch with his fishing hook and line; he knew what Frodo was after. Slowly from the pocket of his breeches he pulled out the small wooden peg attached to a long length of sturdy garden twine. He put them down beside the stone and the broken peg and inched a little further away from Frodo.

"Did Pippin have anything to do with this?" Frodo demanded, tipping Merry's chin and fixing his younger cousin with his unwavering gaze.

"No, Sir. . .nothing.. . he knows nothing. You have my word, Frodo," Merry stammered. Frodo held his gaze for a moment longer and was convinced of his assurances.

"Merry, this was no spontaneous prank, was it? This must have taken a lot of planning and preparation." Merry nodded, miserably. "I take it this plan has been festering since your run-in with Lobelia last

week?" Merry nodded, wondering just when Frodo had turned from fellow playmate and conspirator to stern guardian. Suddenly Merry wished that Bilbo was home; the old Hobbit was a known entity but

this new Frodo was really quite disconcerting.

"When did you set it up, Merry?" Frodo asked, examining the peg.

"Last night while you were supervising Pip's bath. I heard the Gaffer earlier telling Sam that we were in for some heavy rain overnight and I thought it would be the best chance. . .!"

"And?" Frodo prompted.

"I picked up the peg and twine I'd made a couple of days before and I ran down to the village. All the shops were closed and there was no one about. I knocked out the old peg and slipped this one in," Merry explained, "then I ran the twine along the top of the pole and tied the end off to the gutter."

"So where did this broken peg come from?" Sam asked.

"The potting shed. . .I found it when I was fashioning this one," Merry explained. "I made sure to drop the broken one near the front of the shop so it would look like it was an accident.

"But what if Lobelia hadn't been there this morning?" Frodo asked.

"She's always there first thing, rain or shine. . .I heard Able complaining about her to one of the other traders, a real nuisance he called her. . .I bet he's not complaining about what happened to

her. . .I reckon it was a civic duty!"

"Merry, what did you promise your Dadda and Bilbo before they left?" Much as he agreed with his cousin, in principle, Frodo struggled to keep a suitably serious demeanor.

"That I would mind you and not get into mischief," Merry muttered.

"And what did they tell me?"

"That they were leaving you in charge and gave you full . . .authority!" said an increasingly miserable Merry.

"And you know what that means, Merry, don't you? It means that while I am responsible for your health, safety and wellbeing, I am also responsible for your behavior!"

"But she deserved it," Merry wailed.

"And I had made it quite clear to her when she came to see me that she had overstepped her authority and that not only would I be informing Bilbo and your  father of `all' the details of what happened but warned her that she could also expect to have to answer for assaulting the Master's son! I told you the matter was dealt with. . .you should have left well alone!"

"But we're even now. You don't need to do anything," Merry wheedled. "I promise I will be as good as gold from now on. . .I'll do all the chores. . .I'll be good. . .I'll be really good. . ."

"I'm very pleased to hear that, Merry, but what you did was too serious to let pass. . .I would be failing in my duty to you and your Dadda and Bilbo if I let you off. You have earned a spanking and I am not prepared to leave you waiting for it until your Dadda gets back next week."

"But no one will know! They all think it an accident."

"But we know it wasn't an accident, don't we. . .and you will never manage to keep it a secret from Pippin."

"Keep what from me?" a sleepy voice asked.

"Nothing, Pip," Merry groaned.

"Merry, I want you to go to the parlor and wait for me," Frodo informed him sternly.

"But, Frodo. . .please!"

"Merry, are you in trouble?" Pippin asked. "You only get sent to the parlor when you're in really, really, really big trouble. . .like when Bilbo's fired up for giving a spanking!" Frodo and Sam both grinned at Pippin's comment, but Frodo was in no mood to grant his cousin a reprieve.

"Merry, I won't ask you again. Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is." With heavy footsteps and a last pleading glance Merry did as he was bid. Pippin went to follow but Frodo intercepted his path and pushed him gently towards Sam.

"Sam, would you keep Pippin occupied in the garden for a little while. I'm sure he would appreciate some lemonade and a piece of cake."

"But Frodo. . .what about Merry?" the little Took asked looking anxiously after his cousin.

"Right you are, Master Frodo. Come on Master Pippin. . .Lemonade and cake in the garden, how does that sound?" He ushered the little lad away but before he left the kitchen he turned back to address

Frodo, "Will. . .will you be alr. . .will you manage, Sir?"

"Aye, Sam, thank you. I think this was probably inevitable. It will be strange to be on this side of a spanking but I cannot let this go. I owe it to Merry to give him my best attention. And don't worry, Pip, your Merry will be quite safe. . .sore but safe, just like you are when your Dadda or Bilbo have cause to heat your naughty little bottom!" Frodo assured him.

"I don't think that's very funny!" the outraged little Took huffed as he stomped out of the kitchen.

"It was a fine plan, Sir, if you don't mind me saying," Sam grinned.

"I know. . .a fine plan, beautifully executed. . .if only he hadn't dropped his lucky stone I would never have guessed he was involved."

"There are a couple of things I'm sorry about, Master Frodo," Sam smirked as he picked up the snack for Pippin

"Oh, yes, and what are they?"

"That I wasn't there to see Ms Lobelia's face. . ." Sam chuckled.

"And what else, Sam?"

"That her miserable excuse of a son wasn't standing at her side!"

Shireling. Nov 2007