“But, Pip, by doing these unpleasant things, we will be helping Frodo. We will be giving him help he does not even know he needs.”
Chapter 4 - Part of Merry
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Merry’s expression was inscrutable as Frodo’s suspicious eyes weighed down upon him like a physical force. At last Merry raised his eyebrows and teacup and with a smirk, took a sip.
“If you are expecting to see me slump down to the floor in a senseless heap, dear cousin,” chided Merry, I’m afraid you’re bound to be disappointed!”
Merry took another sip, and handed the cup back to Frodo. Frodo’s expression remained stony and he did not take the proffered cup.
“That won’t do,” said Frodo sternly. “Finish it, to the last drop. And if my suspicions are proved wrong, I shall treat you to all the ale you can drink in a lifetime and ten barrels worth of apologies. But now I need to put my fears to bed, as least as far as my own well-intentioned family is concerned. This is a dangerous business, more deadly than you can imagine. So drink.”
Pippin watched the exchange with a mixture of morbid curiosity and horror. How could Frodo speak to Merry like that—as if Merry would actually poison Samwise, or even lull him into slumber with strange leaves! But Pippin had to admit that Merry had been acting queer of late, even badly, and even, and Pippin hated to admit it, violently as well. All of this was naturally out of concern for Frodo, of course. And Frodo, in turn, was frantic with worry over Sam, as well as weighed down with burdens of his own. So Frodo could be forgiven too.
Pippin hoped at the back of his mind that Frodo’s implied accusations and cutting words would not descend into shoving, clouting, or worse, then realized how absurd the wish was. Were they not grown hobbits of good family and fine reputation? Not all the Took And Brandybuck blood in Middle-earth could account for the suspicions being bandied about! What manner of darkness had come over them that it should come to this!
But ‘this’ as it turned out, did not turn out nearly as horrible as Pippin had imagined. Much to Pippin’s relief, and surprise, Merry did not strike Frodo, but lifted the cup to his mouth again and sipped down every last drop.
Seconds passed, and, as Merry seemed to show no sign of keeling over into unconsciousness, Frodo heaved a tremulous sigh of relief.
“You know, Frodo, there was nothing more sinister in this cup than chamomile,” said Merry, turning the cup upside-down with a flourish, “unless your riders have taken a shining to herbal lore and gardening. On that note, I’ll take a refill; that was a stupendous batch!”
"I’m sorry I doubted you, Cousin," said Frodo as he poured. "You were acting strangely and I had to be sure. But my heart is not wholly soothed. I still do not know what is amiss with Sam, and he is no closer to waking up than he was an hour ago. All that I have done today has gone amiss. What is to be done now?"
"All is forgiven, dear Frodo," smiled Merry.
“He looks unwell,” sighed Frodo, once again regarding Sam, who was still laying face-up, breathing as slow as a winter river on the cusp of freezing. "It is not natural, I am sure.”
“Sam’s sleep is queer,” said Merry, “but you surely draw from it more dread than need be. Sam sleeps because he requires sleep; when he gets his fill, he will awaken refreshed and a better companion than if his steps were weighed down with exhaustion.”
Merry drained his second cup of tea and set it on Sam’s bed stand beside the candle holder, now filled with a moat of melted wax around a crumbling wick. The candle was no longer needed. The sun had risen as they spoke, the first faint rays followed by robust swords of light stabbing through the shadows of the room.
Frodo sank down to his knees and leaned his head against the mattress.
“What shall I do now? Gandalf has laid it upon me to steal the Ring out of the Shire. Vain was Gandalf’s trust in me!”
Frodo felt Merry’s hand, strong and cold, upon his shoulder.
”It is your trust in Gandalf that has been in vain,” said Merry directly.
Frodo twisted his head back, and Merry saw that he wept.
“Where could he be, Merry?” asked Frodo sadly. “Why did Gandalf not come? I have never needed him more sorely!”
“You expected to find Gandalf here, Frodo, I know that well enough,” said Merry softly. “But perhaps this delay is not so ill a turn. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you take mine?”
“I think I know already what counsel you would give, Meriadoc,” said Frodo. “And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning of my heart.”
“Silly old boy!” said Merry. “If circumstances force you upon the mercy of my hospitality one more day, much good might come of it! Sam will have one more day to awaken, you shall have a full day’s and night’s rest, and who is to say that your cagey wizard won’t turn up on our doorstep after all? What do you say, Frodo?”
“I say,” said Frodo drearily, “that Gandalf is not the only thing that might turn up on our doorstep.”
“You are thinking of the Riders, then Frodo?” asked Merry.
“Yes! The Riders!” said Frodo. “The elves we met upon the road counseled us to leave at once. ‘I think you should go at once, without delay,’ they said.”
“Elves! So you met some fair folk on the way here, and they deemed themselves fit to give you counsel on the fate of the Ring,” said Merry, darkening a little.
“What small counsel they gave, they gave reluctantly,” answered Frodo. “And they knew nothing of my burden. I did not tell them and they did not ask. They were most concerned of the Black Riders dogging our steps.”
“Then there was much information the elves lacked when they gave you’re their counsel!” said Merry. “Least of all, the resourcefulness of your own kin.”
“What could hobbits do against riders?” asked Frodo, a layer of doubt creeping into his tone. “You yourself said that the Black Riders were a danger, and you were aware that they were seeking, even chasing me. How you did so, you have not yet revealed; but the longer I linger, the greater risk I thrust upon you and Pippin, and the whole Shire, I am sure.”
“Trust me to arrange things better than that!” said Merry. “I have already sent a dozen sturdy Brandybucks to stand lookout at the ferry, the bridge, and the roads. None of the Riders will be let in if we can help it; at least not for a bit. In the event they come around looking for you in Buckland or across the Brandywine, I’ve spread word that you have left Crickhollow and headed down to Southfarthing on some unknown errand. So for the time being you are safe here. Linger a day and regain your strength.”
Frodo wanted to follow Merry’s advice with every fiber of his being; but somehow, he knew this would not be the path Gandalf would have advised, if he were there to advise anything; which was, Frodo supposed, part of Merry’s argument.
This is such a heavy decision!” cried Frodo. “I f only I had more time!”
“Time!” exclaimed Merry. “That is one thing you have in greater abundance than you suppose.” Merry saw the inner conflict glide across his cousin’s features. He pushed harder. “Frodo, take one more day in your new home. One more day in a soft bed. One more day to let Samwise rest and recover from whatever sickness holds him in slumber. One more day to wait for that laggard of a wizard.”
If Merry would have known it, it was his last point which sounded most compelling in Frodo’s ears. The reappearance of Gandalf, thought Frodo, was his only hope of arriving safe in Rivendell without being snatched up by Black Riders. Finally he heaved a heavy sigh and turned to Merry.
"I give in!” Frodo said, getting up and waving his arms. “I will ignore Gildor’s advice. I will take advantage of your hospitality for one more day; but I will absolutely not be swayed to stay a moment beyond that."
"Splendid!" exclaimed Merry with a loud clap of his hands.
Pippin grinned widely. He bounded to Frodo like a dog invited for a walk and embraced him in a tight hug.
"There, there Pip," laughed Frodo. "If the danger were not so dark, I would gladly take you and Merry with me, if only to raise my spirits!”
Pippin’s eyes flashed for a second in a vague memory of some former plan. The plan forged months ago. He and Merry had planned to follow Frodo, hadn’t they? Sam had told them that Frodo and he would be leaving with the Ring, and Pip and Merry were going to come too. What had Merry said back then? ‘Not take ‘no’ for an answer.’ That was it. When did these plans change? Oh, how Pippin wanted to go with Frodo and Sam. Why had Merry changed his mind? And why had he never let him in on his secret?
"Frodo—?"
Before Pip could utter a syllable, Merry’s claws were digging in his shoulders. Pippin flinched, knowing somehow, that he had erred.
"Dearest Pip," said Merry in a gentle tone totally at odds with Merry’s talon-like grip upon him. "Let us leave Frodo to himself for awhile. I am sure that he would like some time alone with his thoughts."
Frodo nodded.
"I will stay here by Sam’s side," said Frodo. "I want to be here when he wakes up."
Merry gave Frodo a warm smile and escorted Pippin from the room, fingernails still plunging viciously into Pippin’s skin. Pippin knew better than to cry out.
* * *
Merry shut the door to Sam’s room softly before violently marching Pippin into his own bedroom and slamming the door.
Merry spun Pippin around to face him, his eyes dark and menacing. Pippin shook uncontrollably. Merry’s face was contorted in anger. He roughly forced Pippin backwards until the quivering hobbit was quite literally backed up against the wall. Pippin felt his cousin’s cold hands on both sides of his face, drawing his eyes up to Merry’s relentless gaze.
"W-Wh-What did I do, Mer-ry?" stuttered Pippin.
Pippin expected a stinging slap at any moment. Instead, Merry softened. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his smaller cousin’s forehead. Pippin thought he might faint. Merry finally spoke.
"Pippin, dearheart, do you trust me?"
Pippin nodded, almost frantically, his eyes brimming with tears.
"Do you trust your Merry to take the right course of action when it comes to Cousin Frodo?"
Another nod.
"You are wondering why I no longer wish for us to follow Frodo," said Merry. "You are wondering why I no longer wish Frodo to leave the Shire at all."
Pippin blanched. Had Merry read his mind?
Pippin nodded, almost reluctantly. He did not wish Merry to think that he did not trust his judgment. But he had been curious. And with Frodo and Sam set to leave, Pippin’s longing to follow them had become well-nigh unbearable.
Merry glanced down into his cousin’s apprehensive eyes. Perspiration beaded at his temples, and Merry could detect the scent of fear. This would not do. Before Merry engaged in any game of question and answer, he must have Pippin’s absolute trust and devotion. Fear might control Pip’s behavior to a certain extent, but without devotion, it would only drive Pippin to betray him. Merry had to bind Pippin to himself, utterly and inextricably.
"Now, pet," Merry purred. "There is no need to be afraid. Your curiosity is natural. You care deeply for Frodo, just as I do."
Merry ran his finger down Pippin’s perky nose, and smoothed his wrinkled brow with soft caresses. Pippin had visibly started shaking again.
"All your questions shall be answered in time, love," continued Merry, "because I will need you. And Frodo will need you."
Pip was so lost in the inky pools of Merry’s eyes that he almost forgot to breathe.
"And I need to know you trust me, Peregrin. Completely. I love you Pip, more than a brother. You are part of me, and I am part of you.”
Pippin did not answer, but let the joy flood onto his heart.
“Do you trust me, Pippin?”
Pippin sighed and nodded. Merry drew Pippin into a fierce embrace and kissed him upon the temple.
“Good, my love! Good! I need you to! You do not know how your answer warms my heart!”
There followed a few moments of silence, Pippin rejoicing in the safety and love that he felt in his cousin’s embrace. Finally, Pippin spoke.
“Merry?” asked Pip hesitantly.
“Yes Dove?”
“Merry, do you think of me as grown up, as an adult?”
“Of course, peanut,” said Merry as he swept the unruly curls from Pip’s face in a paternal gesture and placed another kiss on his forehead.
The ludicrous grin returned to Pippin’s flushed face.
Merry smiled darkly, seeing the perfect opening to a conversation he’d needed to have with Pip for weeks now. The Frodo situation needed to be dealt with and he needed Pippin in order to do so.
"Peregrin,” continued Merry in a serious voice. “You are indeed grown up, at least in body.” Merry added a pregnant pause. “BUT being grown up in mind sometimes means doing things that are difficult…doing things we don’t like to do. But being an adult means that we do them anyway. Especially if, by doing these things, we help other people. Do you understand Pip?”
Pippin nodded, his face mirroring Merry’s serious expression, his mind swirling with confusion.
“And now, Pip, I’m afraid that I will have to do some unpleasant things concerning Frodo.”
Pip’s eyes widened
“But, Pip, by doing these unpleasant things, we will be helping Frodo. We will be giving him help he does not even know he needs. But he does need it—desperately. Do you understand Pip?”
"We need to help Frodo?” repeated Pippin.
“Yes, lad.”
“But it might be rather unpleasant?”
"Perhaps VERY unpleasant, my pet,” answered Merry, his voice weighed down with gravitas. “But I have faith that you will help me. I have faith that you will prove to me that you are actually as grown up as you claim.”
Pippin nodded, and Merry rewarded the affirmation with a teasing pat on Pips head. Pippin looked up wide-eyed at his Merry with a touch of apprehension.
"What must I do?"
TBC
This chapter has a slash version at www.geocities.com/aelfgifuemma/RATM