Chapter Four: Nightmares

Frodo awoke in the early hours of the morning to hear quiet sobbing nearby. Groggily, he opened his eyes and sat up, for a moment forgetting where he was. He looked around and saw Sam still asleep next to him, snoring softly.

But where was Merry?

As that thought entered his mind, he hurriedly searched around the campsite for his cousin. Another muffled sob sounded from the trees to his left, and he turned to see Merry, sitting behind a tree, his knees pulled up under his chin, his face buried in his sleeves. He didn't seem to notice Frodo until the older lad had sat down beside him and placed a gentle hand on his shaking shoulder. "Merry?"

The crying hobbit-boy looked up quickly and wiped his face with a sleeve. "What’s wrong?" Frodo asked softly.

Merry sniffled loudly and wiped his eyes again. "Nothing. I’m fine."

"Oh no, you’re not. Now what is it?"

"Really, I'm all right." Merry got up and walked a few feet away. Frodo sighed at the stubbornness of his cousin, though he could guess the cause. He suspected that Merry had had a nightmare and was embarrassed that he had been seen crying over it. Frodo knew what it was like; he had done it many times himself. He followed Merry and sat down at the base of a large beech tree, patting the ground for his cousin to sit next to him, which Merry did, reluctantly.

"Do you remember the time I fell into the Brandywine, when we were catching frogs there?" asked Frodo quietly. Merry nodded, staring fixedly at the ground. "I had a terrible nightmare about it that night, and I woke up crying. Aunt Esmeralda came into my room and asked me what was wrong. And I wouldn't tell her at first because I was embarrassed about it." He paused and looked at Merry, who was starting to sniffle again, and patted his cousin on the back. "But do you know, once I did tell her, I felt much better about it, and Aunt Esme was very understanding. She helped me get back to sleep and I’ve never had that nightmare again."

He waited for Merry to respond, but his young cousin continued to stare moodily at the ground, though tears began sliding down his cheeks again. He angrily brushed them away and Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. "It’s all right to cry, Merry," he said softly. "Remember? I cried this afternoon when we almost…lost you."

At this, Merry lost control of his tears and began sobbing again. "What’s wrong?" Frodo asked in confusion and alarm. "Did I say something to upset you?"

Merry did not answer, but suddenly launched himself into his cousin’s arms and buried his face in the older lad’s shirt. Frodo could feel the younger hobbit trembling in his arms as he rocked him back and forth, trying to comfort him as best he could.

Frodo waited patiently as the sobs to died down to whimpering hiccups, and then pulled out of his cousin’s tight embrace and held him at arms’ length. "Do you feel better now?" he asked gently. Merry nodded with a sniffle. "Good. Are you ready to tell me what is troubling you?" Merry nodded again and nestled into Frodo’s lap, resting his curly head under his older cousin’s chin as he had done when they were both younger, together in Brandy Hall.

After a few moments, Merry drew a shaky breath and began quietly, "I had a nightmare. About what happened at the stream this afternoon." Frodo nodded encouragingly, his brow furrowed in concern. Merry gulped and continued, "I was playing with you in the water, like we were today, and then something grabbed you and pulled you down. I dove in after you and all I could see at first was black all around me. I heard you, you kept calling for me and I tried to find you. I found your hand and tried to pull you up, but something yanked us both down again. For some reason, I found a knife in my hands and I stabbed what felt like a snake or something. Then, all of a sudden, I could see, and I saw you being sucked down into the sand. You kept crying for me to help you and I tried to get to you but it was as though invisible people were pulling me away. I screamed…and then I woke up."

Tears were spilling down his cheeks again. "Oh, Frodo!" he sobbed, "It was awful…and so real!" He buried his face in Frodo’s shirt, once again soaking it with his tears. Frodo stroked his hair and held him tightly, unable to find words to comfort his distraught cousin. ‘Poor Merry!’ He thought sympathetically, ‘How horrible! Much like the dream I had after falling into the Brandywine…only that was about my parents…’ He shook his head as if to avoid those painful memories and turned his attention back to the trembling, whimpering boy in his arms.

"It’s all right now, Merry," he murmured reassuringly. "It’s over. There is nothing to fear. Shall I sing you the song I sang to Sam earlier?" He knew he was treating Merry like a child, but he could think of no other way to comfort his cousin.

Merry nodded. He had cried all his tears and felt exhausted now. Frodo rocked Merry back and forth as though he were holding a hobbit babe, and softly sang.

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel,

silivren penna mìriel

o menel aglar elenath!"

Merry sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. He felt himself drifting off to a peaceful sleep as his cousin continued the sweet song to Elbereth.

"Na-chaered palan-dìriel

o galadhrermmin ennorath,

fanuilos, la linnathon

nef aear, sì nef aearon!"

Frodo quietly carried Merry back to the campsite and nestled him cozily in the blankets beside Sam. He watched them both affectionately for a few moments, before settling into his own blankets. As his eyes closed, he suddenly felt Merry grasp his hand tightly. He smiled, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep, holding his cousin’s hand tightly in his own.

TBC...