14. Lost and Found

Sometime in the night, Frodo felt cold. Rain was falling gently on Hobbiton, cooling the air, and he had fallen asleep with Merry snugged up against his back. Now the blankets were thrown aside and Merry was gone. Frodo sat up and rubbed his eyes, then eased his legs over the side of the bed. Well, Pippin had given them all quite a fright today, and he couldn't blame Merry if he couldn't sleep. It had a been a long day of visiting with Eglantine Took and her children, and during the afternoon nap Pippin had decided to crawl out of his bed and go exploring. It had taken them hours to track him down again, and Bag End had been turned upside-down. Who knew that a tiny Took, barely old enough to be on his feet, would be able to go so far and hide himself so well? He had been found at last by (of all hobbits,) Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, who had been stunned to discover that she had been minding the Heir of the Tookland all day. She had taken quite a shine to the little rascal, too, if he hadn't mistook that look in her eye. Frodo laughed a little and rubbed his tired face with his hand. He would have to keep an eye on her the next time she came around the little fellow, (he told himself only half in jest,) else she might just tuck Pippin into her umbrella-as if he were one of Bilbo's silver spoons!-and make away with him.

Bag End was still and quiet as the Withywindle in summer, but for a few soft snores here and there, from Bilbo's bedroom, and the guestrooms where various Tooks had been stowed. Frodo had no need for lamp or candle; he knew every twist and turn of Bag End like he knew his own face in the lookingglass. He crept out of the room and down the hall, whispering Merry's name. He peeked into Bilbo's room. Bilbo was sound asleep, bedclothes drawn up to his chin and his furry feet exposed, and he had a book tented open over his chest. The candle on his night-table had long ago melted down to wax and guttered out, and there was no sign of Merry there, so Frodo passed by. In the second-best guest bedroom, Pimpernel and Pearl were crammed together like a two puppies in the big bed. Nell had one of Pearl's long curls clenched tight in her fist. Frodo paused and scratched his head. He came to the door of the first guest bedroom, put his fingers against the door and gave it a gentle push. The first guest bedroom was one of the largest in the smial, with a great, round window, and there Frodo could see Merry. He was curled up asleep on the rug next to Pippin's baby-basket, with one arm inside, bent at an uncomfortable angle, his palm resting on Pippin's chest. Little Pippin was wide awake with his fingers in his mouth, though lying quite still, and he smiled to see Frodo. "Fweet!" he said.

Frodo laughed silently. Bilbo tended to spoil all young visitors to Bag End with an endless supply of toffees from the depths of his waistcoat pockets, and Pippin seemed to think that even nightshirts came equipped with sweets. "And hello to you, Pip. Couldn't sleep, either, I suppose?"

Eglantine stirred and sat up, throwing a leg over the side of the bed. Her copper-brown hair had escaped from her nightcap and lay in two long braids over her shoulders. "What's this all about? Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry to wake you," Frodo said. "But I've just come to collect Merry. Looks as though he's done a little sleepwalking."

Eglantine looked down and saw that she had almost put her feet on Merry. "Ah, the poor lamb," she clucked sympathetically. "He's had a long and dreadful day."

Pervinca stirred next to her and made unhappy, sleepy noises. Eglantine patted her shoulder. "Sleep, Vinnie. All is well, all the sheep are in the fold. Go back to sleep, love." Pervinca sighed and settled again.

Frodo knelt down to lift Merry to his feet, but he tightened his grip on Pippin's baby-gown. "Pippin's lost," he said, with his eyes closed.

"He's right under your hand, pet," Eglantine said gently. "Not lost, safe and sound, wide awake and in need of a good feed and a clean nappy. Now why don't you let Frodo take you off to a nice, warm bed?"

Merry allowed himself to be lifted up into Frodo's arms, and he put his head on his shoulder. Frodo and Eglantine exchanged weary smiles, and then she bent over the basket. "There now, Mammy's little lad, let's just get you taken care of..."

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Frodo had carried Merry as far as the parlour when he started to squirm. It was easy for Frodo to forget that Merry considered himself a big lad now, and didn't care to be held so much, unless he was very sad, or very sick. Frodo let him slide down, and Merry stood swaying, still half-asleep, with his arm around Frodo's waist. Frodo led him to Bilbo's big armchair and boosted him up. "Here, my lad, get yourself off the floor. I'll just build up the fire a bit, then we can have some toast if you like. Are you hungry?"

Merry shook his head. Frodo sighed and busied himself with stirring the coals of the hearth to life. Once he had a good blaze going, he sat down in the chair beside Merry, pulled his legs across his lap and began to rub his feet. They could quite clearly hear Eglantine's footfalls, and the strong lilt of her voice as she walked to and fro, and they knew that she had nursed Pippin and was now singing him to sleep.

Sleep, my baby, on my bosom,
Warm and cosy, it will prove,
Round thee mother's arms are folding,
In her heart a mother's love...

It was a familiar lullaby. It brought back to Frodo fading infant memories of his own mother, and he found himself humming along, and combing his fingers through Merry's brown hair.

There shall no one come to harm thee,
Naught shall ever break thy rest;
Sleep, my darling babe, in quiet,
Sleep on mother's gentle breast.

Except for the cheery crackle and snap of the fire, it was very quiet. By now Merry was sitting full on Frodo's knee, his back against his chest. "I'm not a baby," Merry mumbled.

Frodo smiled. He had thought that Merry was asleep. "No, you're not." In the short time that Frodo had been gone from Brandy Hall, Merry had left the soft roundness of babyhood behind. He felt all bones and angles, and his heels as he was sitting dangled nearly past Frodo's knees. "You've grown enormously! Before too long, you'll be so huge, they'll have to make a special door into Brandy Hall just for you, and it will take every seedcake in Buckland to fill you up for Tea."

Frodo expected him to laugh, but he turned on Frodo's lap and put his head on his shoulder. "I was bad today," he whispered.

Frodo put his hand under Merry's chin and lifted his face. Merry had been a great help all afternoon, he had helped in the search and thought of many places that Frodo might never have looked, and he had never cried that he was too hot or too tired to go on, even when the rest of them had felt close to giving up. "How?"

"I wanted Pippin to go away. He's a baby and everyone was looking at him," Merry said, his lip curling just a little with unmistakeable hurt and jealousy. Frodo was reminded that for all that his legs had grown so long, Merry was still only a nine-year-old hobbit whose idol and best friend had left him. "I almost wished him away forever. I didn't mean it, I just wanted you to look at me and play with me, and have fun with just me today. I never meant to be so bad. I just missed you so."

Merry pressed his face against Frodo's nightshirt and cried a little, and Frodo put his arms around him and held him tight. "Merry, Merry, what happened with Pippin wasn't your fault. Now that our little Took is on his feet, he'll be in all sorts of scrapes-not as frightening as this one, I hope-and Eggie will have to tether him to her apron to keep him out of trouble."

Merry swiped the sleeve of his nightshirt across his eyes. "I'm never going to let something like this happen ever again."

Frodo sighed. It was a hard lesson for a child to learn, that not all promises, however heartfelt and sincerely made, could be kept. "Now Merry, that's not practical, you know that. He's just a little babe, and for years and years yet he's sure to be off in the Tookland, and you'll be at Brandyhall. There will be many times when he will fall, or catch cold, or some such thing, and you won't be there to pick him up or brush away his tears. We can't always guard the ones we love from all harm, however much we might want to."

Merry became quiet, lost in thought. "Well, I can look after him when we're together, and I'll try not to fly mad even when he breaks my toys, and I'll make him laugh, and when he's with me I'll always let him have the biggest piece of seed cake, even if I want for myself. Can I promise that?"

"Yes, you can promise that." Frodo smiled, and Merry smiled back, and Frodo was glad to see it. He patted Merry's knee. "Well, my lad, we've had a very important talk and I'm worn out. Would you like to go back to bed now?"

Merry yawned. "I'm not tired. Can we just sit like this for a while?"

"As long as you like." Frodo lifted his arm so Merry could scoot underneath and he rested his cheek on the top of Merry's head. In a moment or two he felt the low rumble of a little lad's snore. Sleep, my darling cousin, in quiet, he laughed to himself, and sat watching the fire as it sank down to coals again.

Frodo sat there so long that his arm fell asleep, and then his legs, and then all the rest of him. He dreamed that he was an old hobbit with all the ones he loved gathered around him, and the great book across his knees was the story of his own life that he had written himself, full of laughter and good times and high adventure, and not leaving out even the bad times and sadness, too, because all the best stories are like that. Turn the page, tell us more, tell us what happened in the end, the beloved voices cried, so Frodo did, and the dream wore on and there always seemed to be another page, and another adventure, and another tale to tell. Bell Gamgee found Frodo and Merry still in the chair, nestled together like hen-and-chick, when morning light was peeping in the windows.

The end

(...of this story, but more ficlets, drabbles and droubles to come.)

A little Author's Note: If it seems like I goofed up on my foreshadowing and gave Frodo a dream of Sam's life, well, I didn't. I just thought Frodo deserved some happy foreshadowing for a change, even if it doesn't quite come true for him.

Oh, and the lyrics to the lullaby 'Suo Gan' are courtesy of Contemplator.com.