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When the King Comes Back ( Brandy Hall )  by Dreamflower

Merry entered Saradoc’s study. “Da, Mum said you wanted to see me?”

“Had you forgot you wished to see these messages?” He tapped the documents that lay in front of him on the desk.

“I did forget,” Merry answered ruefully. “that--scene--rather put it out of my mind.” He sat down across the desk from his father.

“I’m proud of you, son. Defending family is not a lesson I ever had any need to teach you.” Saradoc handed the first document to him. It was the letter from Rohan.

From Éomer Éomund’s son, King of Rohan

Unto Saradoc Rorimac’s son, Head of the Clan of the Brandybucks and father of Meriadoc, Esquire of the Household of Meduseld and Holdwine of the Mark are sent these greetings.

In the darkest of days when war was wont to loom upon the land, there came from the North the Holbyltla Meriadoc Saradoc’s son, strong and sturdy. Wherefore for love of the lord of the land, Théoden King, he pledged his faith and fealty. In company with Éowyn Éomund’s daughter, who bore him to battle, he followed his lord through death and destruction, and with his sword-sister the White Lady of Rohan, helped her to fell the foul dwimmerlaik, the Witch King of Angmar upon the bloody battlefield of Pellenor, before the great gates of Mundberg in the last defense of his liege and lord.

Therefore he has been named Holdwine of the Mark, a Knight of Rohan. This honor is personal, and entails no lands nor properties; withal he is yet in the service of Éomer King, and may be recalled unto his service within the Halls of Meduseld, in the land of Rohan at any time. In his person, or by messages, he shall give unto his liege such advice and counsel as may be called for. He shall also acknowledge with gifts the occasions of the marriages and births in the family of his liege.

In return for these services, each spring, upon the first day of the New Year of this Fourth Age, shall be delivered unto him one hundred silver pennies and two ponies from the Royal Stables of the Rohirrim.

Westu hal, Saradoc, father of Meriadoc

Éomer Éomund’s son, King of the Rohirrim

Merry’s jaw dropped. He had known that by the customs of the Rohirrim, the King was supposed to generously reward his retainers, but he had not thought how that would apply to him. After all, he had already received his pony, his arms and armor, and a generous stipend on his knighting. When Éomer had offered him more, he had turned down all but the silver horn from Éowyn. It never began to dawn on him there would be more after he left.

Saradoc grinned. “I take it you are pleased, son?”

Merry could only mutely nod. Although stunned would have been a better word.

After a moment, he found his voice. “I can’t imagine why they would do this--I mean it’s all very nice, but I didn’t give my oath for any kind of reward.”

Saradoc looked at his son solemnly. “Have you thought why they sent this to *me*, the head of the family? You are a very intelligent Hobbit, Merry, but it seems you have a bit of a blind spot here.”

Merry shook his head. He still didn’t see what his father meant.

“Think about the duties they require of you: at any moment you may have to drop all your responsibilities here and go off to Rohan, far away, and be gone for months at a time; any time there is a wedding or a birth, you will have to send something--and it will have to be something worthy for a royal family.”

“But Éomer would never abuse those rights. He’s not that kind of person.”

“Merry, he sent this letter to me because he wants *me* to know that the resources of Buckland and Brandy Hall will not suffer by your duty to *him*.

He wants me to know that the costs of these things will come from *you* and he is seeing that you have the wherewithal to follow through on those duties. That is part of *his* responsibility as your liege lord. Did you notice the part about 'no entails on lands or properties'? That is to let me know that he knows Buckland does not come under *his* jurisdiction, though you are still his personal vassal.”

Merry blinked. The idea that there was a material side to his oath of fealty had not occurred to him. “I never thought of it in that way before, Da. It does make sense when you put it so. But still, a hundred silver pennies and *two* ponies? It seems excessive, especially the ponies. Do you have any idea of how much a pony bred and trained in Rohan is *worth*? Especially from the Royal Stable. You’ve seen Stybba!”

Saradoc grinned again. “Yes, I have seen your Stybba, and I must say that I think two ponies like him every year will be very profitable for you and Buckland.”

Merry laughed ruefully. “I’d say my liege put one over on me. And, Frodo, the rascal, knew and never let on. I owe him one.”

“Now, would you care to see this other official document? The one from *our* new king?” He passed Merry the royal proclamation from Gondor.

It was a bit longer and more elaborately phrased than the one from Rohan, (Merry thought he detected the influence of Faramir there) but the message was clear. In gratitude for the efforts made by Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin during the War of the Ring, the Shire would be protected by the King. The old saying “when the king comes back” was coming true. And Aragorn wanted the help of the Shire leaders, in particular, the Master of Buckland, the Thain, and the Mayor, to help him in providing that protection appropriately. It meant that the Thain and the Master were going to have to cooperate with one another.

"This makes a lot of sense, Da. If Aragorn is going to be our King, then he’ll need all our help.”

“Paladin is not going to be happy.”

“Pippin will bring his father round.”

“I hope so, Merry, I hope so.” He handed his son the third letter, the one from Aragorn.

“Where did this come from, Da? I only brought two messages.”

“It was enclosed with the official one. Read it, it’s the best of the lot.”

Saradoc’s eyes were solemn, but shining.

Master Brandybuck--

I write this letter in my own hand to you now, not as a king to a dignitary, but as the friend of your son.

Merry was my dear comrade for many months of a desperate and arduous journey, and I think that over that time, I got to know him well.

Your son is very intelligent, a long-thinker, who is cool under pressure. Though like his younger cousin, he enjoys playing the prankster--Merry he is by name, and merry by nature--yet still he knows when it is time to be sober and alert. I found him the most observant and the quickest learner of all the Hobbits.

He is a modest young person, so I do not know if he will tell you of all his deeds. I tell you this: he has the heart of a warrior. Our companion, Boromir of Gondor, who taught your son much of swordplay and weaponry, told me that only a lack of reach could keep Meriadoc from becoming one of the great warriors of our age. I think that had he lived to see it, he would have been proud to know that even that lack of reach did not hamper his pupil when the time came. Merry’s greatest strength is his deep loyalty and devotion, especially to his kinsmen, whom he protects at all costs.

Briefly, I would also care to mention your kinsman, Frodo. I was given to understand that he spent much of his childhood in your home, before he went to live with Bilbo. I hope that this may give him a claim upon your affection. His road was the darkest and hardest of all. He will need much help from those who love him if he is ever to recover from what he suffered. His melancholy is a deep and abiding one, and I yet fear for him.

The truth is that all of the Hobbits who took part in this matter are accounted as great heroes by those of the lands beyond the Shire. It is no exaggeration to say that they saved the world. Please know that I also account myself personally so deep in their debt that I shall never consider it repaid. Whatsoever any of them would ask of me, I would do without hesitation if it lay in my power to grant.

I want you to know that I am proud to call your son my friend.

Aragorn son of Arathorn (sometimes known as ‘Strider’)

Merry’s eyes filled, but his face was a study in pride. To know that Aragorn thought these things about him, to have Aragorn tell them to his father, was almost more than he could understand. He had felt honored to know that he had Strider’s friendship long before he knew that his friend was a king. “Dear Strider, I do miss him, Da,” Merry murmured.

“I think that we are very lucky in our new King,” answered his father, “and that you are very lucky in your friends.”

________________________________________





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