Chapter Four - The Comfort Zone

Merry had barely finished escorting his Aunt Eglantine to the dining hall for a hot cup of tea when he was summoned to the Master’s office. They both had stood outside in the cold waving farewell to her family as they drove off back towards Tuckborough in the West Farthing. Eglantine was staying behind to look after Pippin until he was well, and then they would take the coach back home.

Knowing where his father would be, Merry excused himself from his aunt and immediately went to his study. On the way there he wondered about what he was being called for. Saradoc had told him just the day before that he would receive no more lessons. Merry stood in front of the door and smoothed out his shirtsleeves and vest before he knocked and walked in.

“You called for me, Dad?”

Saradoc sat on the sofa near the bookshelves. “Yes, I did. Come here and sit down, please.” He laid aside the book he was reading as Merry took the seat next to him.

“Merry, as I said yesterday, your lessons in the study of being Master are over. Today begins your first full day as my shadow, if you will.” He watched his son’s face for the effect of his words, but there was none. Merry’s eyes were still fixed upon him in a serious manner. “Your first duty is to see to the comfort of your aunt and cousins.”

A slight grin played on the corners of Merry’s mouth, “You’re jesting.”

Saradoc gazed in return the same seriousness, “I am serious, son.”

Merry replied, “But that’s absurd! I had always intended on seeing to their comforts.”

“Of course, you did,” answered Saradoc. “However, now those duties are in a different light. Before, it wasn’t an obligation--now it is. It will be one of your duties as my assistant to see to a visitor’s comforts.”

Merry happily sighed, “Then this shall be the easiest of tasks.”

“This time,” Saradoc cautioned. “Indeed, that is why I enjoyed giving you your first task. Try seeing to the whims of hobbits you don’t necessarily care for.”

“That’s happened to you?”

“Not often, but it’s happened once or twice--and it’s not enjoyable in the least. So what do plan for your charges?”

“I don’t know yet,” Merry shrugged. “I really haven’t put a lot of thought into it other than seeing that none of them are left alone for long.”

Saradoc leaned forward in thought, “Dividing your time like that without a plan can be treacherous. Do you mind if I make a few suggestions?” Merry shook his head, listening intently. “Your cousin, Peregrin, and your Auntie should be your priority. Peregrin is ill and his mother is looking after him. He will require at least one more visit by the healer before he departs Brandy Hall. You will see to it. I don’t want him leaving Brandy Hall and then fall sick during the trip home because Mistress Salinda wasn’t called for, understood?” Merry nodded. “Your Aunt, though very capable of watching over her own son, will require frequent spells of relief. Arrange teatime for her with your Mum or with one of the other ladies in the Hall. Frodo will be the most challenge. He is quite the gentle-hobbit, and old enough to see to his own wants and desires, and I daresay he is still familiar enough with the Hall and it’s residents from when he lived here as a youth. Yet he is here specifically to visit you, and you must inform him that some of your time will be spent seeing to others as well.”

“Frodo will understand.”

“He may,” Saradoc replied, “but you must give him an explanation as to why you will be occupied elsewhere at times. You owe him that as his host.” He smiled as he saw his son’s expression. Merry had absorbed all that was said and looked as if he were about to explode. “Do you have all of that in your head?” Saradoc knew his son was taking all of this very seriously.

Merry sighed heavily this time, “Yes, I think so.”

“Well, you may want to write some of my suggestions down on paper--in your own office.”

Merry looked up suddenly, “My office? Where is it?”

“Why, its in your apartment, lad.”

Merry was dumbfounded, “My--my own apartment?” He held out his hand and took the key his father handed to him.

“You’re nearly a grown hobbit now, Merry,” his father explained. “It’s time you moved out of your parent’s quarters and learn to become your own master. When you feel ready, you may remove your belongings to your own rooms.”

Merry swallowed hard, “I don’t know what to say.”

His father patted him on the back and laughed, “Now that’s a switch!”