Blackberries

A/N: Berilac is 15, Merry is 13, and Pippin is 5. This story was written for Lily, and the characters of Toby and Mr. Greenhill are borrowed from her. They can be found in her stories "Master's Heir, Master's Son" and "Punishment," both of which are archived at this site.

Merimac retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his sweaty brow. It had been a long afternoon of tending to the ponies and as soon as he and Toby were finished grooming and feeding them he planned on heading back to the Hall for a nice, relaxing bath.

He had just begun brushing the last pony when he heard frantic voices calling him. "Da! Uncle Mac!"

Quickly Merimac stepped out of the stall just as Berilac and Merry raced through the stable, panting for breath and their eyes full of panic.

"We've lost Pippin," Merry blurted. Berilac frowned at him before turning to his father and Merimac listened with concern as his son explained what had happened.

"It was that Mr. Greenhill," he said. "He came running after us, yelling and screaming, and Merry and I ran off in opposite directions. We each thought Pippin was with the other, and it was only when we met up at the Hall that we realized he wasn't there."

"Please, Uncle Mac," Merry said, looking truly frightened. "Please help us find Pippin. He could be anywhere."

From the berry stains on each lad's hands, Merimac had knew what had caused old Mr. Greenhill to frighten them to such distraction that they had managed to forget their cousin. However he set that knowledge aside for the moment and focused on the situation at hand.

Glancing over at the farmhand Toby, who had paused in feeding the ponies to listen to their conversation with wide eyes, he said, "I need you to finish tending to the ponies. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Yes, sir," Toby said, returning to his task as Merimac led his son and nephew outdoors.

It was not a far walk to Mr. Greenhill's farm, and Merimac thought it best if they first retraced Berilac and Merry's steps. Pippin's legs were far too short to keep up with two running teens and if they were lucky, they would find him on the road.

But the road was empty and Merimac's heart sank as he hurried along. What if something had happened to Pippin? Did Mr. Greenhill have dogs? He had not kept them in the past, but perhaps he had them now that he was older. Merimac shuddered inwardly at the memory of Farmer Maggot's enormous dogs, as well as the farmer's treatment of Frodo the last time he had been caught pilfering his mushrooms. But Mr. Greenhill never punished children so harshly…

A loud sniffle told Merimac that his nephew's thoughts were close to his own. At his concerned glance, Merry turned his face aside, furtively dashing the tears from his eyes. Beside him Berilac bit his lip, his face pale and anxious as he scanned the fields for Pippin.

But there was no sign of Pippin as Merimac walked up the path to Mr. Greenhill's smial. He glanced back to see if the children followed but saw that they both stood rooted to the ground, clearly unwilling to face the old farmer again.

"Come on, lads," Merimac said sternly. "First you are going to apologize to Mr. Greenhill and then you are going to ask him to help us search for Pippin. No one knows his lands better than he, and we could certainly use the help."

With a resigned glance at one another Berilac and Merry followed Merimac to the smial's bright blue door. Merimac knocked once and then stepped aside, leaving the children on the step together.

The door opened to reveal Mr. Greenhill, whose ruddy, cheerful face darkened into a glare at the sight of Berilac and Merry. "You," he grumbled. "Back for more berries, eh?" Catching sight of Merimac standing to the side the old farmer added, "Begging your pardon, Mr. Brandybuck, but I caught these lads picking through my blackberries this afternoon."

"I know, Mr. Greenhill, and I apologize for their behavior. But I think the lads have something to say as well," Merimac said, sending the children a sharp look that made Berilac wince and Merry gulp.

"We're sorry, sir," they said, one after another. "It won't happen again."

"That's what they all say," Mr. Greenhill replied, though the first traces of a smile began to spread across his wrinkled face. "But they don't often leave me something for my trouble."

The children glanced at each other and, much to Merimac's surprise, Berilac spoke again. "If you please sir, we would like to make it up to you."

Obviously torn between wanting to make things right and wanting to find his cousin, Merry nodded. "Berilac and I can help you with your chores or – or anything, sir, as soon as we find our cousin Pippin."

The farmer's wizened face creased into a wide grin. Stepping aside, he ushered them through the door. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in the kitchen, Master Merry," Mr. Greenhill said with a wink.

A smile spread across Merry's face and he broke into a run. "Pippin! Pippin!" he yelled, racing down the hall with Berilac at his heels. Chuckling, Mr. Greenhill followed close behind with Merimac.

Inside the kitchen Pippin was perched snugly on Mrs. Greenhill's lap. In one hand was a small cup of milk and in the other was a nearly-finished blackberry tart. Pippin's mouth was stained with berry juice and crumbs littered the front of his shirt.

"Hullo!" Pippin greeted them quite cheerfully and Merimac stifled a laugh as the child immediately turned back to his snack, clearly not realizing how worried Merry and Berilac had been.

"I noticed right away that the older lads had left the wee one behind, but they were too busy running in fright to hear me yelling after them," Mr. Greenhill told him, still chuckling. "I was going to bring the little lad straight back to the Hall but my wife was so charmed by him that she couldn't bear to send him away without a little snack."

"Thank you for your generosity," Merimac said, clasping the farmer's shoulder. "But we really ought to be going now."

Pippin seemed reluctant to leave Mrs. Greenhill's comfortable lap and her delicious blackberry tarts behind. Berilac and Merry's mouths watered as the farmer's wife quickly consoled Pippin by presenting him with a plate filled with the treats.

"Thank you!" he said, grinning and waving from his perch atop Merimac's shoulders.

With a final word of thanks for the Greenhills' hospitality Merimac left the kitchen. A quick glance behind told him that his son and nephew were following him.

"Oh no," Merimac said firmly. "You lads promised Mr. Greenhill that you would do some chores in payment for the berries you stole. I don't expect to see you two back at the Hall until supper – at least."

Shoulders sagging, Berilac and Merry nodded and shuffled after Mr. Greenhill. As Merimac closed the gate behind him he saw them hard at work already, weeding the kitchen garden. Pippin glanced back at them sadly, and Merimac thought it was a good time to have a little talk with the child.

"Pippin, you know that taking something without permission is very, very bad, right?"

"Yes, Mac." Pippin said seriously. "Very, very bad."

"And you must never do that, right?"

"Yes, Mac." Two small hands clutched at Merimac's shoulders as Pippin spoke again. "Mr. Greenhill told me all about you today."

Merimac cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Did he?"

"Yes," Pippin replied. "He said you used to steal berries from him all the time, lots and lots of berries, and your da didn't know what to do with you, and once-"

"Why don't you have another tart, Pippin?" Merimac interrupted, grabbing one of the treats and handing it to him. Pippin eagerly accepted it and fell silent, munching on the snack that had so easily distracted him from Mr. Greenhill's tales.

Merimac smiled to himself. His secrets were safe, at least for the moment.