Chapter 14. Interlude

It was not to be so simple as the little one had planned. By dint of sheer stubbornness, he managed to get Merry up onto his shoulders. Talking to Merry as he struggled, he pushed up, straining hard, got his cousin’s head and shoulders into the opening, and somehow worked the limp body far enough into the log that it stayed when Ferdi faltered; and there was Merry, half in and half out of the log, legs dangling.

‘There you are, Merry, there you are, nearly safe now,’ and a furtive, frightened look behind him to see if the fox had reappeared, ready to leap. ‘In you go, Merry, in you go...’ Merry’s legs sticking out of the log reminded him horribly of a garden snake he’d seen once, that was in the process of swallowing a mouse. Though he was panting and exhausted, he redoubled his efforts. A push, and a shove, and suddenly Merry was sliding down, and Ferdi scrambled after.

He made Merry as comfortable as he could on the bed of crumbling leaves, working by feel in that dark place, tucking his own soft blanket around Merry with a pat, much as Ferdi’s mum or older sister might do, tucking Ferdi in for a nap.

And then he looked up, to where he knew the entrance to be. He blinked hard and fisted his eyes. Yes, that was the entrance, and yes, the darkness there was slightly less dark than in the log. But it was dark. Somehow night had fallen as he was pushing his cousin to safety.

Night had fallen, and darkness had closed in, and was waiting outside the log to devour him.

Ferdi felt in his pockets for the comforting weight of a pebble or rock, but his pockets were empty.

Mum? he whimpered. Da? He gulped down his tears and tried one last time. Rosie? He would, at the moment, have welcomed his older sister’s fusses and scoldings, would have thrown his arms about her neck and wept joyous tears.

There was no answer, only the silence of the ominous dark, and Ferdi cowered against Merry’s limp form. He pulled a corner of the blanket over his head, and jammed his two fingers in his mouth, but he found no comfort there.

***

There was little point in searching the stream in the dark, by lantern-light, though Ferdinand was out there with a few of the neighbours, and Saradoc joined him not an hour after his return from Waymoot. Paladin remained with Eglantine, with what little comfort he could offer. Most of the neighbours went home, to see to their evening chores, promising to join the hunt in the morning if the lads had not yet been found.

Bilbo insisted that Frodo lie himself down and rest, if not sleep, for the tween had a bit of a rasp in his breathing--perhaps a cold coming on--and the night air was chilly.

Frodo protested bitterly. ‘But Merry’s out in that same night air! What if he’s cold, shivering, frightened...?’

There might have been something more than warmed milk with honey and a little brandy in the mug Bilbo brought the tween, urging him to sip it down until it was gone. Some time halfway between eventides and middle night, Frodo slept at last.