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LifeWatch  by Lindelea

Chapter 11. Awakening

Merry awakened early, though he had not sought his bed until nearly dawn. He stretched, grinning. One thing you could say about Big People, as incomprehensible as their ways were, sometimes, they knew how to celebrate. He sat up slowly, meeting the watchful eye of one of the healers. Even that close inspection could not irritate him today. He felt fine. His grin brightened. Fine. So many meanings for one little word...

He rubbed his neck and stretched again, looking up in thanks for the basin of fresh water that appeared before him. He splashed water on his face and neck, dried off with the proffered towel, nodded in dismissal, and rose from the bed to walk over to the sleeping hobbits.

Staring down at Frodo and Sam, Merry said softly, 'Today's the day. O Frodo, you do not know how hard it has been to wait.'

He sat down upon the stool between the beds, placed his hands around the clasped hands of the sleeping hobbits, and said, 'I'll be on duty later today, so if we're to finish the story it will have to be now.'

Sam stirred slightly in his sleep, and Merry looked at him hopefully before resuming. 'Now, Gandalf and Bilbo were riding back to the Shire, and Bilbo was planning what to serve for tea when they got back to Bag End. It was a little awkward, you know, having been away for so many months. He really was not sure what, in the pantries, would remain edible. Of course, there were the jars of fruits and pickles, and the flour and sugar and spices would still be good, as would the dried fruits, albeit a bit hard but they could be put to soak in a little brandy; he might manage to put together some kind of cake. Hmmm, no eggs or butter or cream, and the saleratus would be old; perhaps he could borrow some essentials from the gaffer on the way past Number Three.'

Merry paused to watch Frodo take a deep breath. One of the healers muttered to another, 'I shall miss the storytelling.'

'You're not the only one,' was the response. They listened in silence as the story went on.

'And now they were in sight of the country where Bilbo had been born and bred, and Bilbo reined up his pony to take in the lovely sight of green hills, ordered fields, smoke rising from chimneys, wash flapping from lines, hobbit children playing “chase” about the yards.'

The healers smiled at this homey picture.

Merry took a deep breath and continued. 'And so Bilbo reined his pony to a stop. "What is it?" Gandalf asked, peering intently at his old friend.'

Merry smiled, looking again at the peaceful faces to either side of him. 'Bilbo answered the wizard, musing aloud, "Something that just came to me..."

‘His eyes still drinking in the rich view, he said softly, "Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea." '

As the healers listened, spellbound, Merry closed his eyes and a vision of his homeland rose before him, green and beckoning. He continued, 'Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains in the moon.' Merry stopped, choked with tears, unable to go on for the moment.

A familiar, well-loved voice took up where he had left off. 'Roads go ever ever on, Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone, Turn at last to home afar.'

Merry opened his eyes. 'Frodo!' he whispered joyfully.

His cousin smiled and continued, 'Eyes that fire and sword have seen, And horror in the halls of stone, Look at last on meadows green, And trees and hills they long have known.' Frodo released Sam's hand, gently laying it on the bed, and reached to hug Merry.

Merry was speechless with joy, tears running down his cheeks as he fiercely returned his cousin's embrace.

Frodo patted his younger cousin’s back as if Merry were once again the small hobbit tearfully protesting his beloved cousin's removal from Buckland to Bag End after the adoption. 'Shhhh. It's all right, cousin. It's truly all right again.'

Merry found his voice. 'I thought I'd lost you,' he said, muffled against Frodo's shoulder.

Frodo put him back, holding firmly to his arms, to gaze into his face, and the cousins shared a flash of memory. A small hobbit, fallen into the turbulent waters of the spring-swollen Brandywine. An older cousin, diving into the River after him, seizing him by the curls, striking for shore. Both panting upon the bank, the older fiercely hugging the younger, saying, 'I thought I'd lost you.'

Frodo remembered young Merry's reply, and looking into his cousin's eyes, he said softly, quoting the words that had stuck with him since that long-ago day, 'I'm harder to lose than you think, cousin.'

He pulled him close again, and both laughed through their tears. The healers watched, smiles and tears mingled on their own faces. This was their payment for all the days of ceaseless care, rich coin, treasure indeed.

***

Thanks to Toni at CTF for sending me the passage from The Hobbit that is quoted here, in an IM, when The Hobbit had gone missing at our house (probably under someone's bed).





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