A/N: Sam and Merry are not friends at this point in my universe, due to a prank that Merry played on Sam in “Under the Harvest Moon” and various subsequent misunderstandings that followed it throughout the years.
 
 
 

A Day in the Life

Frodo is 39, Sam 28, Merry 26, Pippin 18 (about 25, 18, 16, and 11 in Man years)

Afterlithe 1408 SR

Part I
 
 

7:00 AM

Sam whistled as he made his way up the Hill to Bag End. The sun was already shining brightly and warmly, but a cool breeze kept the heat at bay. This would be a good day for gardening and for getting to that stone pathway his master wanted laid down between the smial’s back door to the well. The request seemed an odd one to Sam, but as his master can tend to be odd from time to time – though of course Sam would never say such to anyone – he didn’t put too much thought into it beyond what he would need to do the job. After all, if that was what his master wanted, then that’s what he would get.

Knowing that Mr. Frodo’s cousins were visiting, Sam became quiet as he approached the garden gate and slipped through. He did not want to awaken the young masters, who had arrived late last night and likely did not get to bed until the early hours of the morning. Normally, Sam would let himself in to start first breakfast, but knowing that his master preferred to do such things while there was company, he bypassed the smial’s front door and headed for the back of the gardens.

Sam padded silently to his tool shed – or Mr. Frodo’s tool shed as it was – and unlocked the shed door. He had been locking the door for many years now, ever since Master Merry and Master Pippin snuck in one time and sabotaged his tools, and while he figured it was safe now to leave it unlocked while unattended, he thought it better to err on the side of caution. There was no telling what those two might attempt from one moment to the next, and Mr. Frodo was fair certain that Master Merry would attempt to extract revenge on him for what had happened during Master Merry’s previous visit.

Sam pulled open the shed door, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips as he remembered Master Merry passed out drunk, wearing that pretty yellow frock with the flower print and delicate lace fringes. He knew it wasn’t proper to think so, but he had to admit that seeing Master Merry so perfectly hoodwinked had been more than a bit satisfying to him. It wasn’t often that Master Merry was bested in a prank, and that Mr. Frodo was able to pull it off without a flaw only made Sam admire his master all the more.

He stepped into the shed, chuckling softly. He would have to struggle to keep a straight face in Master Merry’s presence today, so he allowed himself to have his laugh now when there was no one about to witness it.

Sam rummaged through the shelves and drawers, looking for the tools he would need to complete the day’s work. He needed to water the lower gardens, weed the vegetable garden, deadhead the roses and trim back the berry bushes before turning all the compost heaps. Then he would be ready to start on the stone pathway.

He picked up the watering buckets and yoke first, locked up the shed and made his way to the well. Sam hummed softly to himself as he winched the water, poured it into the buckets and shouldered the yoke with practiced ease. He strolled down to the lower gardens, content and happy, complete with plans for the day to come, having no idea just what the day would be bringing him.

At the same time that Sam was preparing for his day, Merry was slipping out of bed and preparing for his own. He had a score to settle with Frodo and he needed to get started on his plans as soon as he could. He quickly stepped into some day clothes and, after checking next door to make certain Pippin was still asleep, he snuck down the tunnel and into the second pantry.

He had thought long and hard on how he would go about exacting his vengeance on Frodo and had even gone so far as to ask every lad in Brandy Hall for their best prank stories, refraining from mentioning who the pranks would be used on, of course. He didn’t want to explain why he had it in for Frodo. He had so far been able to keep knowledge of the prank away from Buckland ears and he wanted to keep it that way.

Doderic and Ilberic had come through nicely, both of the brothers having a variety of ideas, and Berilac was as sneaky as they come when he put his mind to it. Marimas wasn’t much help, however, and Gordibrand wouldn’t know a prank if it hit him on the bum. Still, Merry had many good ideas before spring’s end and he had spent the first half of the summer fine-tuning them for his own use. Any one of the pranks, or even any combination of them, were fair game. Frodo himself would be the main determinant of which ones Merry attempted. Knowing Frodo would likely be on his guard, Merry had accounted for that as well and was prepared to change his plans at a moment’s notice if necessary.

Merry reached the second pantry and searched the shelves for the things he would need for the day’s work: castor oil, jam, cream, honey, baking soda, butter. He made his way down to the cellar and selected an inexpensive bottle of wine. Next, he went into the sitting room, to hide his things while he went to fetch water, shampoo and soap. As he was making his way back to the sitting room from retrieving those items, he checked the small wardrobe in the kitchenette that Frodo used for his storage closet. Yes, broom and washing bin right where they belonged. Oh, and string too. That would come in handy later. He left those items where they were, then got down to business.

In his bedchamber, Pippin yawned and stretched, wrapped his arms around his pillow and fell back into deep sleep.

In his bedchamber, Frodo lay staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to get up but knowing he needed to. He had seen the unassuming and too-innocent look on Merry’s face the night before when he and Pippin arrived from Whitwell and Frodo knew he was in for a long day. He needed to get up before that cousin of his and try to keep on top of his every move as much as possible. It was no easy task staying one step ahead of that Brandybuck, but as Frodo was half a Brandybuck himself, he felt he was up to the task. Now, if he could just get up. Frodo forced himself out of bed, got dressed and went to check on his cousins.

Merry heard the knock down the tunnel and he swore silently under his breath. What was Frodo doing up so soon? Knowing it would just be a matter of time before Frodo found him, Merry quickly hid his loot in the linen chest and tiptoed into the tunnel as though he were coming back to his bedchamber from the bath, never mind that he wasn’t wet.

“Oh, good morning Cousin,” he greeted Frodo in the tunnel.

“Good morning, Merry. Up already?” Frodo replied.

“You know I’m an early riser, Frodo.” Unlike you.

“Yes, you never could sleep in late.” Not when you have something up your sleeve, at any rate.

“What can I say? I rise with the sun.” Oh that just sounded lame. Now Frodo’s going to suspect something.

“You do indeed.” Just what have you been getting into already?

“Well, I better go check on Pip. I’m sure he’ll be hungry when he awakens.” Maybe he’ll go make breakfast and leave me alone.

“I’m sure he will be. After you’re done checking on him, come into the kitchen and help me make breakfast.” There, now I can keep my eye on you.

“Of course, Cousin.” Drat it!

Merry then had no choice but to slip into Pippin’s bedchamber next door. He waited until the door was firmly closed behind him before swearing again, this time out loud. This was going to be harder than he thought. Why was Frodo awake already?! All his preparation time had just flown right out the window.

He waited until he could hear Frodo in the kitchen, then he snuck into his bedchamber and went over to his wardrobe, where he pulled out his satchel and study things. He could take these into the sitting room and use the excuse of studying to get some time to finish his preparations. He slipped out of his room, not wanting Frodo to know that he was finished “checking” on Pippin. He tiptoed silently down the tunnel, slipped into the sitting room, and placed his things on the tea table there.

“What are you doing in here?”

Merry whirled around, caught off guard. He had not heard Frodo’s approach. For his part, Frodo stood framed by the doorway, his face was a study of unassuming curiosity. Merry knew better.

“I was just putting my study things in here for later,” Merry replied, honestly enough. “Uncle Dino wants me to write an essay on Bucca of the Marish. It has to be ten pages long. Ten pages! I know he was the first Thain and all that, but doesn’t ten pages seem a bit extreme to you?”

“Dino made me write twenty pages. Consider yourself lucky,” Frodo said, not about to be sidetracked. “Come along, Merry. Let’s get breakfast started before we have our hands full of an extremely hungry Took.”

Merry smiled and nodded, then followed Frodo grudgingly. Frodo would come back to this room as soon as he could to try to find out what Merry was really doing in here. Frodo’s suspicion would make this all the more difficult, but Merry was not one to back down from a challenge.

They entered the kitchen and stepped around each other effortlessly as they prepared breakfast. When Merry went to the pantry to retrieve eggs, Frodo went with him to get flour. When Frodo went to fetch milk, Merry went with him to grab a basket of fresh blueberries. They didn’t let each other out of their sight for a moment, until breakfast was nearly made and Pippin came in, dragging his feet and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Good morning Pippin,” both cousins greeted in unison.

“Morning,” Pippin said as he stifled a yawn and sat down to await his food. “That smells ever so good.”

“Thank you,” Frodo replied. He reached for the plates in Merry’s hands and nodded out the window. “Go fetch Sam for me, will you, Merry? I’m sure that he’s hungry and would appreciate a bit of breakfast. Pippin, you need to wash and get dressed, lad.”

Pippin yawned again and Merry clung to the plates for dear life. “But, who’s going to set the table?”

“I’m perfectly capable of setting my own table, Merry,” Frodo said. “Now get. Tell Sam to hurry or we won’t wait for him.”

“Does Sam really need to breakfast with us? I’m sure he has things to do and being the sensible hobbit that he is, he would have already eaten,” Merry pointed out.

“I told him yesterday I’d invite him to first breakfast and not to eat anything beforehand,” Frodo explained coolly.

“Couldn’t Pippin go out to get him?” Merry said. He did not want to leave the smial. The moment he did, he knew Frodo would be running to the sitting room.

“Pippin has to wash up and get dressed,” Frodo reminded smoothly. “Don’t be rude, Merry. Go on now, there’s a good lad.”

Merry sighed with a huff and relinquished possession of the plates to Frodo. Then he was down the tunnel, out the door and searching for Sam as quickly as his feet would carry him. As luck would have it, Sam was far down in the lower gardens and by the time Merry found him, he was winded from all his running and had difficulty delivering the message.

“Frodo wants you to come up for breakfast,” he finally got out. “Come quick before it’s all gone, but please do take as much time as you wish to eat. Frodo could use the company, you know.”

Sam nodded, a crinkle of confusion showing on his brow. Company? Isn’t that why Master Merry and Master Pippin were here? “Of course, Master Merry. I’ll be right up,” was all Sam said. He stooped down quickly to retrieve his watering buckets, and Merry could swear he had seen a smirk on the gardener’s lips.

Not having time to waste on what that could mean, Merry dashed up the hill back to the smial and only managed to slow himself down in time to keep from slamming into the door. He paused for the briefest of seconds, calmly opened the door, then ran into the kitchen, where Pippin sat, washed and dressed, and Frodo was easily and casually dishing food onto Pippin’s plate. Frodo looked up when Merry entered.

“Is he coming?” Frodo asked, the perfect picture of innocence.

“He’ll be right up.”

“Wonderful.”

“Delightful.”
 

8:00 AM

Sam did come right up and he noticed immediately the tension running between his master and Master Merry. So, Mr. Frodo had been right to worry, for here it was their first day and Master Merry had already been up to something from the look and feel of it. Sam refrained from shaking his head and sighing dramatically. It wasn’t his place to go judging his betters after all. Besides, Mr. Frodo was as sharp and sturdy as they came. He would be able to handle whatever it was Master Merry had up his sleeves.

“There you are Sam,” Mr. Frodo greeted with a smile. He waved the gardener toward the table, where Sam noticed that Master Merry had invited himself to sit in Sam’s usual seat. “Sit and I’ll serve you.”

“Now, Mr. Frodo, that wouldn’t be-”

“Sit, and I’ll serve you,” Frodo repeated, firmly but kindly.

Sam sat in the only chair available, the one at the head of the table, opposite of Mr. Frodo, and tried not to feel too out of place.

Conversation at breakfast would have sounded normal enough, if not for the glances Mr. Frodo and Master Merry kept throwing at each other. Oh, they weren’t hostile or nothing, not even what anyone would call suspicious or untrusting. No, rather they were overly interested and uncommonly engrossed.

“So, what are everyone’s plans for the day?” Mr. Frodo asked.

“Well, I have that essay,” Master Merry said. “Do you have any accounts on Bucca, Frodo?”

“I do, in the library. You’re welcome to go in there and read them.”

“Oh, I think I’ll just take them into the sitting room. More room to move about, you know.”

“I rather that you didn’t, Merry. You tend to lose books and scrolls when you take them from the library.”

“I’ll put them back. Have no worries.”

Mr. Frodo smiled tight-lipped, then turned to Master Pippin. “And you, Pip? What are your plans?”

“I thought I was going to play with Merry,” Pippin said, frowning a little, “but I don’t want to watch him writing all day. Can you take me into town?”

Master Merry held his breath and was clearly trying not to appear too eager for Mr. Frodo’s answer. Mr. Frodo nodded. “Of course. When Merry takes his break, we can all go into town together.” Master Merry’s face turned sour. He stabbed at a piece of his omelet and shoved it into his mouth.

“And you, Sam? What are your plans?”

Sam quickly swallowed his milk. “Oh, just the usual, sir. And I was going to start on that path you’ve been wanting to put in.”

“Excellent. Well, let me know when you’re going to start on the path. Merry and I can go out to help you.”

Sam nodded slowly, masking his own feelings at this suggestion. Master Merry instantly jumped at what he thought was an opportunity. “And leave Pippin to watch himself? He’ll just raid your pantries and eat all your chocolate again.”

“I will not!” Master Pippin protested, blushing slightly. “I wasn’t going to.”

“Someone will have to watch him,” Master Merry went on. “You help Sam and I’ll watch Pippin. You know how he tires you out.”

“I can take care of myself,” Master Pippin insisted.

“Pippin can help also. I’m sure Sam can find a task for him that won’t be too daunting,” Mr. Frodo said. “Right, Sam?”

“Oh, well, actually, Mr. Frodo,” Sam stammered. He could just see the scene now, with all those extra hands, untrained at that and trying to catch each other off their guard to do who knows what. Sam would never get the path finished, or even started, with that sort of help. “Begging your pardon, sir, but there’s no need for you to be putting yourself out so. My friends Tom and Jolly’ll be coming up to help me.” Which was perfectly true, thank the stars.

“Oh,” Mr. Frodo said, a bit deflated. “I see.” Master Merry smiled triumphantly.

Sam sighed under his breath and quickly finished his food. “I’ll wash up,” he offered and stood to do just that.

“No need, Sam. Get back to your work. Merry and Pippin can make themselves useful for a change,” Mr. Frodo said. He beamed down at his cousins and Sam took his opportunity to escape before his master could change his mind.

Sam stepped outside and breathed in relief, then quickly made his way back down to the lower gardens. He would keep himself low and out of sight as much as possible today, and think of some way to politely decline any further invitations to mealtimes.

Merry gamely went to the wash basin and started washing the dishes, as Pippin stood next to him and waited to dry. Merry looked back as Frodo strolled casually out of the kitchen, through the kitchenette and into the tunnel. Frodo acted like he was going to his study, but Merry knew better.

He washed the dishes as quickly as he could, but Pippin was not cooperating. Pippin’s job was to dry, but he kept pointing out bits of food that Merry had failed to wash away in his haste to finish. Realizing that he was taking twice as long, Merry forced himself to slow down and take his time, all the while craning his ears to the rooms down the tunnel. He could not hear if Frodo had entered the sitting room or not but he did hear when the door to the study closed. Far too much time had passed for Frodo to have gone directly there.

Merry tried not to panic at this, reminding himself that he knew Frodo would be watching him carefully, and went over his other schemes in case he had to switch gears. Finally, he finished with the washing and was obliged to help Pippin put away the dishes, as many of the dishes belonged on shelves too high for Pippin to reach. Merry suspected that Frodo did this on purpose.

Finally, the job done, Merry dashed down the tunnel to the sitting room, leaving Pippin to fend for himself. He glanced around the room, noting that nothing appeared to be disturbed. He went to the linen chest and lifted the lid to peer inside. Everything was still as he left it. That meant one of two things: either Frodo had not found them, or he had found them but had left them there so Merry would think he hadn’t found them. Which option was more likely?

Merry closed the lid and sat on the chest, trying to noodle this out. Now, it was quite likely that Frodo would never think to the look in the linen chest. True, Frodo was sharp as a tack but he did tend to overlook smaller details like that. However, Frodo was clearly suspicious and had come to this room to look it over. When Frodo put his mind to things, very little was overlooked, if any at all. So, it was also equally as likely that Frodo had looked in the chest, which meant he would have seen what Merry was hiding in there. Being the devious Baggins that he was, he would leave those items in the chest and let Merry go on his way, assuming that Merry wouldn’t think to guess that Frodo had seen them. Which meant that Frodo now knew what was in the chest and also knew that Merry didn’t know that he knew. Unless he didn’t know.

Merry groaned and rubbed his temples. This was going to take a while.

Outside, Sam was continuing with his watering, having already forgotten the oddness of first breakfast. He hummed quietly and serenely as he tilted his watering bucket over the morning glories and went back to figuring out just how he was going to lay that stone pathway Mr. Frodo wanted. A moment later, his quiet world was shattered by two tiny words. “Hallo Sam.”

Sam turned from his watering and looked down at Master Pippin, who was standing on the grass and watching him intently.

“Hullo, Master Pippin,” Sam greeted back. “What brings you down here, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m bored. Merry’s studying and Frodo’s doing his writing, or at least, they’re pretending to,” Master Pippin answered. “If you ask me, they’re both acting very odd today. I don’t have anything to do. What are you doing?”

“I’m watering the plants,” Sam answered.

“Why?”

“Because they need it.”

“How can you tell?”

Sam pointed to a bush near where Master Pippin was standing. “See the dirt just there, how dry it is? Now wriggle your finger into the dirt a lit bit. It’s still dry, ain’t it?” Master Pippin did as he was instructed and nodded. “That’s how I know.”

“Oh. Can I help?”

“I’ve only the one bucket left, sir. Besides, they’re a mite heavy for you to be lifting,” Sam said with a smile. He liked Master Pippin well enough, but he didn’t fancy having the lad’s help. Master Pippin tended to be a bit overenthusiastic from time to time and that would only slow Sam down. He had too much to be doing today for delays.

“Oh. Well, maybe I can find the plants that need watering for you so you won’t have to get your hands all dirty. Your hands are always dirty. Wouldn’t you like to keep them clean?” Master Pippin asked.

Sam smiled again. “Gardener’s always have dirt on their hands, Master Pippin,” he said. “There’s no getting’ around it no how.”

He saw the sinking look of disappointment on Pippin’s face. The young Took lowered his head and looked up at Sam through his auburn curls, his green eyes forlorn and lonely. “You don’t want my help.”

Now Sam understood why Master Pippin was always getting his way with Mr. Frodo and Master Merry. Sam had seen that same expression on his own little sister many a time and while he had learned to tell her no, he couldn’t very well do the same with Master Pippin, not without Mr. Frodo’s say so anyhow. Sam sighed softly, his plans for the day shattered. “Well, all right,” he said, and Master Pippin instantly cheered up. “If you want to, but be careful not to get yourself stuck in a thorn bush. I’ll not be cutting you out if you do.”

Master Pippin beamed up at Sam. “Thanks!” he said and he dashed off to find the next plants that needed watering. Sam didn’t bother to tell him that he already knew which plants were needing the water; he simply waited for Master Pippin to point one out to him, and if Master Pippin skipped past one, Sam watered it while the lad was searching for the next plant.
 

9:00 AM

In the smial, Merry gave up trying to decide whether Frodo knew what he was doing or not as he was giving himself a headache going back and forth on the matter, and simply continued on as planned. He kept an ear trained to the study so he would know when Frodo left the room and came down the tunnel, and started making his preparations.

In the study, Frodo sat staring out the window at the garden and the clear blue sky. He had seen Pippin go down to the lower gardens and was content to know that Sam would be looking out for the lad, for a little while at any rate. Sam had patience immeasurable when it came to Pippin and there was no one better to keep the teen preoccupied for an hour or two.

Unfortunately, this meant that Merry wasn’t watching Pippin, which meant Merry was alone. No matter. Whatever Merry was getting up to in the sitting room, at least Frodo knew that Merry wasn’t planting any tricks for him, not yet at any rate. Frodo would let him be for a while, then sneak down the tunnel and surprise his darling cousin when he least suspected it.

Merry heard the footsteps only just in time. He quickly put the few items he was working with away – he knew better than to keep it all out at one time – and spread out his pages on the floor. He pulled his quill and inkwell from his pocket, and uncorked the inkwell and dipped his quill without a moment to spare. He just barely managed to plaster a confused and contemplative expression on his face when Frodo entered the room. He looked up, innocent as you please.

“How is the essay coming?” Frodo asked, the picture of cousinly interest.

“Well enough,” Merry said, glad that he had started the essay while at Pippin’s the day before. If the page had been blank, he would have had some quick explaining to do. “Do you remember if Bucca was forty or fifty when he became Thain?”

“I believe he was sixty-seven,” Frodo answered, staring at the pages spread out in front of Merry. “You’ve gotten that much done?” He seemed surprised and more than a bit caught off guard. He looked at the parchment critically and Merry wondered if Frodo could read upside down. Frodo hummed noncommittally, so softly Merry almost didn’t hear him. What did that mean?

“Could you look it over when I’m done?” Merry asked on impulse, pretending to return to his assignment with dedicated concentration. He had to keep up the pretense that he was the studious pupil. “I’m not certain at all I’m capturing him well enough to do him justice. What with the twenty pages you did, you would know more on the matter than I would.”

“Of course,” Frodo answered. Merry looked up just in time to catch Frodo glancing quickly around the room, a frown on his face. He looked down again when Frodo returned his gaze to him. “Let me know when you’re done, or when you could use a break. Pippin did want to go into town, and there’s no need for you to finish that today. You have all week to complete it.”

Merry nodded. “Oh I know. I just don’t want to put it off to the last minute like I did with that report on Great-Grandfather Gorbodac. The ink was still wet when I handed that to Uncle Dino. He was not pleased.”

“Still wet?” Frodo asked with a lift of his eyebrow. “This ink dries fairly quickly then.”

Merry’s heart quickened. The ink! Silly Brandybuck, of course the ink would be dry! “Well, I’ve been reading over what I have so far.”

That same noncommittal hum. Then Frodo shrugged and left the room. “I’ll start second breakfast.”

Merry watched as Frodo walked away. From that small exchange, it was difficult to tell if Frodo was onto him or not. He was inclined to believe that Frodo was suspicious at the very least, but he had already guessed that much. He thought again about pulling the plug on this particular prank but then decided to forge ahead anyway. If Frodo did know and eventually caught him out, Frodo might back down, thinking the game over. If Frodo didn’t know, well, it would be silly to give up so quickly.

He waited until he could hear pots and pans being moved about in the kitchen before returning to the chest. He only had a few more traps to prepare. Then would come the even more difficult task of planting the traps where they needed to go. It was hard enough not being caught while staying in one room, but it would be nearly impossible to go unnoticed once he started walking about. He would have to think of a way to distract Frodo while he went about his business.

He pulled out the bottle of wine next. Uncorking the bottle and lacing it with the perfect blend of castor oil and baking soda would take some time, so he listened to the sounds from the kitchen. If it grew too quiet, he quickly put the bottle back in the chest and returned to his essay, scribbling a word or two so it looked like he was making progress. When the sounds started up again, he took the bottle back out and commenced working on his concoction.

By the time he was satisfied with his work, it was nearly time for second breakfast and he would have to finish the last few steps quickly. He never moved so fast in his life and only just managed to finish pounding the cork back into the bottle using a rather hefty paperweight of an eagle in flight when he heard Frodo’s footsteps out in the tunnel. He nearly threw the bottle back into the chest in his haste and closed the lid.

“What are you doing? What was that pounding?” Frodo asked accusingly as he entered the room.

Merry turned sheepishly, his hand slightly raised and still holding the paperweight. “There was a spider,” he said.

“And you killed it?” Frodo asked, aghast.

“It startled me,” Merry said. “Don’t worry, it got away.”

“It got away? After all that racket?”

“Yes.”

“You better not have damaged anything while you were trying to kill it,” Frodo warned.

“Only my pride.”

Frodo hummed at this, considering the situation. His eyes darted down to the essay lying on the floor, and Merry wasn’t certain if he imagined Frodo lingering over the chest or not. Frodo studied the parchment intently. “You don’t seem to have got much accomplished.”

“I ran into a bit of a snag,” Merry said.

“I told you to use the books and scrolls in the library,” Frodo reminded.

“Right. I’ll move in there after second breakfast.”

Frodo nodded. “Then run outside and fetch Pippin. I think he’s with Sam,” Frodo said. “I’ll move your things to the library and pull down the books you’ll need.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Merry said. “Here, how about this – since you set the table for first breakfast, I’ll set it for second breakfast. You can fetch Pippin.” If he could only get Frodo out of the smial for a few minutes, he might be able to get some of the traps hidden.

“The table’s already set,” Frodo said smoothly. “Go on, you need some fresh air after all your hard work.” Frodo ushered Merry out of the room and down the tunnel. “Invite Sam up again, will you? Don’t take no for an answer.” And before Merry knew how it happened, he was standing outside on the porch.

Frodo chuckled softly to himself as he walked back to the sitting room. He took Merry’s things into the library, where the scrolls and books were already laid out next to the chair. Then he went to look inside the chest again and see how much progress Merry had made. He didn’t worry to hurry – after the discomfort of first breakfast, Sam wouldn’t readily agree to another meal. Merry would be gone for a while.

Merry quickly made his way to the lower gardens, only to discover that Sam was no longer there. Trying not to feel too frantic, he made his way back up to the main garden and jogged his way around the smial, looking about every which way as he went. Eventually, he found Sam and Pippin at the very back of the grounds. Sam was showing Pippin how to deadhead the rose bushes.

“Pinch and snap, Master Pippin,” Sam was saying as he demonstrated pinching a dead rose head and snapping it off with a quick twist.

“But it won’t snap,” Pippin said, doing the same motion but failing to get the same result. The rose head he was working on only drooped sadly on its damaged stem.

“Then use these here clippers. Keep your fingers clear of the edges.” Sam offered the teen the tool and continued his work without them. Pippin cut off a few of the dead roses and looked up at Sam for approval. “Very good, sir.”

“Pippin,” Merry called, interrupting the lesson. “Get inside and wash up for second breakfast. See if Frodo needs help with anything while you’re at it. Sam, you wash up too. Frodo wants you to join us again.”

Pippin instantly dropped the clippers and dashed off for the smial. Sam, however, only stooped down to pick up the clippers before turning to Merry and saying with a nod, “I thank you kindly, Master Merry, but I’ve got my own food.”

“Now, Sam, Frodo said I wasn’t to take no for an answer,” Merry replied. “I must insist that you come along and not tarry.”

“Begging your pardon, and Mr. Frodo’s also, but I’m a bit behind this morning, what with watching over Master Pippin and all,” Sam said. There was the slightest hint of irritation in his voice. He couldn’t say anything against Master Merry, but he didn’t appreciate being ordered around in such a manner.

“You don’t need to watch over Pippin,” Merry said flippantly, missing the gardener’s wary tones. “Just tell him to scamper off. He’ll find some way to occupy himself.”

Sam didn’t reply to this for many long moments, but by his expression it was clear that he thought this to be very bad advice indeed. At last, he cleared his throat and said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but I’ll choose for myself the best way to deal with Master Pippin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to be finishing this.”

Merry bristled at this. Was Sam telling him how to manage Pippin? As if Sam would know better than he did. Sam acted as if Merry were neglecting Pippin, when Pippin hadn’t even asked to spend any time with Merry at all. And what was all this talk about work? Frodo would hardly care if Sam took the entire day off, yet Sam acted as if the world would come to an end if the roses didn’t get pruned, and he said it like he didn’t believe Merry understood the value of a day’s honest work. Was Sam trying to imply that Merry never worked or did anything of service?

Merry narrowed his eyes at the gardener. “I think you’re getting a bit too comfortable in your position here, Sam. I know how to handle my cousin.”

Sam froze, then slowly turned back to Merry. “I didn’t say as you didn’t, sir,” Sam said, looking confused and startled by this heated statement. “I just have my way of handling things. I don’t need instruction, is all.”

“I’m the one responsible for Pippin,” Merry said.

“Aye sir, but he was out here with me,” Sam said, still not understanding why Master Merry was getting so upset. Sam had thought he was doing Master Merry and Mr. Frodo a favor by keeping Master Pippin out from under foot.

“Merry!” Frodo suddenly called from the smial. “What’s taking you so long? Get in here so we can eat.”

“Sam won’t come,” Merry called back. Now Frodo would tell Sam to come and Sam would have to listen.

“He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to,” was the cheerful reply.

What?! “But you said-”

“Merry, I’m not calling to you like cattle. Get in here, now.” The door closed.

Merry huffed in frustration, and after a final slanted glance at Sam, he turned on his heel and returned to the smial. He slammed the door behind him and marched into the kitchen, where Frodo was laying out the toast, eggs and sausage.

“Thanks for that,” he said to Frodo. “Now Sam’s going to hate me more than he already does.”

“Sam doesn’t hate you,” Frodo said. He glanced quickly at Merry and noted his cousin’s agitation.

“He does too. Do you know what he just said to me? He said that I was neglecting Pippin and mistreating him, and that I’m lazy and coddled and never do anything useful,” Merry said.

Frodo lifted an eyebrow at that and somehow managed to repress his laugh of disbelief. “Sam said that? My Sam? Are we talking about the same hobbit?”

“Well, he didn’t say exactly that, but it was very heavily implied.”

“You know, Merry, if you tried being a little nicer to Sam, he might not be so formal with you,” Frodo suggested softly.

“Formal?” Merry said. “He’s hardly formal now with all his back talk. That’s hardly proper for someone of his station to say such things. And why is he so stuck on propriety and formality anyway? The servants at Brandy Hall aren’t nearly as serious as he is.”

“So, are you angry because he’s too formal or not formal enough? You’re not making any sense, Merry,” Frodo said, irritated himself now. He could see he would have to talk to Sam and find out exactly what had happened, but that would have to wait until after second breakfast. “Go wash up, and bring the jam and butter on your way back. I couldn’t find them in the pantry.”

“Butter and jam?”

“Of course, Merry,” Pippin said now. “We can’t eat our toast dry. And you were rude to Sam, I heard you.”

“How?” Merry exclaimed now.

“You said, ‘Sam you wash up too’ like he was my age.”

“I did not! And if I did, I didn’t mean it that way,” Merry blushed.

“Merry,” Frodo interrupted, his tone stern. “Wash up, please, and don’t forget the condiments.”

Merry turned and left to wash up. He was in such a mood that he didn’t bother to sneak into the sitting room on his way back from the bathing room. He simply walked right in, grabbed the butter and jam, and continued to the kitchen, where he slammed the requested items onto the table.

“What happened to the butter?” Pippin asked, frowning down at the pale white pad.

Merry paused in horror, realizing too late his error or, more accurately, Frodo’s ploy. He looked down at the pad of butter which he had painstakingly shaped and perfected. Frodo came to stand next to him and though he said nothing, Merry knew what he was thinking. At last, Frodo patted Merry’s shoulder.

“It never would have passed as soap anyway,” he said. “It would have melted from the steam of the bath water.” He slid the butter over to Pippin, who cut into it with his knife and slathered his toast, all the while looking up at his two older cousins as though they were amusing faunts playing in the pen.

“You knew?” Merry said sheepishly.

“I knew,” Frodo answered. “Put everything back in its proper place after you finish eating, will you? Except the wine – just dump that out. Whatever you did to it, I’m sure I don’t want to drink it.”

“Yes, Frodo.”

The only one to talk at second breakfast was Pippin, who was eagerly telling his older cousins everything he had learned from Sam in the last hour.

“And then he showed me the difference between a weed and a baby flower. They look a lot alike. They’re both green and have leaves, but the leaves are different and that’s how you can tell because the weeds have long thin leaves while the flowers have round fat leaves, and the weeds also have longer roots which is why you have to be careful to get the whole root or the weed will grow again and again and…”

“Breathe, Pippin,” Merry interjected.

Deep breath. “And when they regrow, there’ll be more and that’s bad because they can take over the garden and kill the flowers but I don’t understand that because weeds have flowers too and I think some of them are very pretty but Sam says they’re all bad, except that you can eat a few of them if you get hungry while you’re working and he said that there are flowers you can eat also, but I don’t know why you would want to eat either one.”

“Is that it?” Frodo asked after an unexpected pause.

Pippin nodded and stuffed half his toast in his mouth.
 
 
 

To be continued…