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Chapter Two: Meriadoc

Merry pushed open the door and slowly walked inside. He dropped down into an armchair, without removing cloak or pack. He just wanted to tear everything from his head and let all memories fade. There was so much lost that could not be restored. He did not really know what to feel. Only emptiness. He could not find a way of accepting it or even realising it. Frodo was always there. That was the sort of hobbit he was. A familiar presence. How could he have gone?

Merry got to his feet and paused. Elvish words drifted through his mind. A song of farewell from Lothlórien. A silent message that he hoped might reach Frodo, wherever he sailed now. Free. But really gone? How could that be? Frodo had tried to escape his friends once before but they had followed. He had not been forced to walk alone. Yet now he was wandering the Endless Sea and there was nothing Merry could do to pursue him. His brow furrowed as an unreasonable anger pounded through him.

"They took him away! From me, Pip and worst of all, they took him from Sam! What's Sam going to do without Frodo? Answer me that!"

He stopped and shook his head. No one would hear him. And it would not bring his cousin back. But didn't he care? Hadn't he cared whether others would miss him? Just gone off so that all his pain would pass to his companions. The hobbit broke his trail of thoughts and crushed them. It took Frodo years to get up enough courage to leave. He would never want to hurt his friends, Merry knew that. He just...ran out of choices.

Slowly, Merry slipped off his gear. Then he just stood. There were no emotions. There were no tears. He just stood there, remembering all the times he had spent with Frodo. The laughter, the sadness, the secrets and tales. They were now all that remained of him on Middle-Earth. Nothing more than memory. Merry missed him. So much that it made his very heart throb with pain. He needed something to keep Frodo there. An anchor to secure those memories.

As one in a trance, he ascended the stairs and walked across the landing to the study. In quiet solemnity, Merry took a sheet of parchment from the desk drawer and plucked the quill from its inkpot.

'Dear Frodo...'