Sections in italics are taken directly from The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter 3, “Three is Company” ( Except in this chapter, Merry’s letter is also in italics. )

xxxxx 

CHAPTER 22

After luncheon, Merry decided they should take the remaining items down to Brandy Hall. Esmeralda had also selected a number of items that had belonged to Primula and Drogo that she thought Frodo might appreciate having. After they unloaded the items for storage, they would bring those heirlooms back to Crickhollow with them.

“While we’re there, Mum, can we pick up a couple of extra bathing tubs? That bathroom could easily accommodate three tubs.” Merry thought it would be a capital idea to be able to offer all three of the travellers a chance to clean up after their long walk, instead of having to take turns. It would please Pip, at any rate.

“Certainly, son, that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Esmeralda was so pleased to have Frodo coming back to Buckland, though she was more than a little puzzled. She knew how he loved Bag End, and she also knew that the money was not really a problem. Buckland held so many sad memories for her husband’s cousin. But it was his childhood home, and his closest family were here, now that Bilbo had left. Maybe he had just beome lonely, rattling around that great hole all by himself. He had not always been so much a loner as he later became. When he was a small child, he had been such a delight, open, loving--the pet of the Hall. But after his parents’ death, all that had changed--he was still loving, but he was no longer open, and he did not want to be the pet of anyone except the mother and father he no longer had. It was not until Merry came along that she had again seen any joy on Frodo’s face; but even afterwards, he still had bouts of melancholy that only Merry could erase.

Perhaps she could talk to him, get him to confide in her. She had been the closest thing to a mother he had, after Primula was gone.

When they pulled up at the Hall, Merry’s cousins Berilac and Doderic were there to help them unload and load.

Esmeralda had chosen out only a few special pieces to be sent over: two nice side tables, Primula’s rocking chair, Drogo’s pipe table, a mantle clock, a small carved chest; the silver cutlery that had been a wedding gift from Bilbo, Primula’s wedding dishes, and quite a lot of soft items--tablecloths, blankets, quilts, coverlets--most of them either gifts or made by Primula herself. She had been very gifted with a needle.

Merry found himself getting teary-eyed. Though he’d never known Frodo’s parents, he knew how much his cousin loved and missed them, even now. What a shame it was that Frodo could not stay here among these things they had loved.

He heard someone approaching the cart, and hastily scrubbed at his face with a sleeve. Wouldn’t do to have someone wondering why he was blubbering.

It was his mother. “Merry, would it not be a good idea if you and Fredegar return here for supper, and stay the night here at the Hall? Once Frodo and Pippin arrive, you will be much too busy to spare any time for us.”

“Yes. Yes, mother, that is a good idea.” Now he felt like blubbering on his own account--this might be the last night he would spend with his family, and he couldn’t even let them know it. He had to stop this. If his parents guessed something was wrong, and pressed him, he was not sure he could lie effectively.

Fatty came to the cart, carrying an armload of linens. “This is the last of it, Merry.”

“That’s good. Mum, we’ll take this to unload and put away, and then we’ll be back in plenty of time for supper.”

Esmeralda watched them drive away. She had a sudden feeling that something was amiss. Well, if it was, Merry would confide in her or his father. He had always done so in the past, sooner or later.

 xxxxx

Near the Woody End of the Shire, Frodo, Sam and Pippin were discussing the strange rider that had seemed to be searching for someone or something. Pippin had at first hoped it might be Gandalf, but no such luck.

“I wish I had waited for Gandalf,” Frodo muttered. “But perhaps it would have only made matters worse.”

“Then you know or can guess something about this rider?” said Pippin who had caught the muttered words.

“I don’t know, and would rather not guess,” said Frodo.

“All right cousin Frodo! You can keep your secret for the present, if you want to be mysterious. In the meanwhile what are we to do? I should like a bite and a sup, but somehow I think we had better move on from here. You talk of sniffing riders with invisible noses has unsettled me.”  Actually Pippin was more than a little unsettled, he was scared, and he daren’t show it. He glanced at Sam, who shook his head. It was some comfort to have Sam know what he was thinking.

“Yes, I think we will move on now,” said Frodo; ’but not on the road--in case that rider comes back, or another follows him. We ought to do a good step more today. Buckland is still miles away.”

A good many miles, thought Pippin. We should have made a much earlier start yesterday, instead of waiting until dark. We’d be nearly there by now.

xxxxx

Fatty found he was quite enjoying the hospitality of Brandy Hall. Saradoc set a generous table, and he had discovered that he had mutual acquaintances in common with some of Merry’s cousins. He was particularly taken with the charming Celandine, who was flirting outrageously with Fatty, and putting some very interesting ideas into his head.

That is, until Merry walked up and said “Hullo, little cousin. What are you planning on giving me for your twenty-fourth birthday next month?”

Fatty blanched.

Celandine glared daggers at Merry. “Spoilsport!” Stalking off, she bestowed a swat to the back of her cousin’s head.

“Ow!” Merry rubbed his head.

“Twenty-four?” squeaked Fatty.

“Twenty-four going on thirty-three. She leads her father and brothers a merry chase, the way she carries on. I don’t envy the hobbit who falls for her wiles. It’ll be a miracle if she makes it to her majority unwed.”

“Thank you,” said Fatty.

“You are welcome. She is my cousin, after all.”

xxxxx

Three hobbit voices sang softly in the deepening dusk of the Woody End.

Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower and leaf and grass
Let them pass! Let the pass!
Hill and water under sky
Pass them by! Pass them by!

This was one of Pippin’s favorite walking songs, one of Bilbo’s, sung now to a rollicking old tune perfect for a brisk walk. But the Tooks sometimes sang it to another ancient melody, soft and melancholy, better for around the fire at bedtime.

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
Apple, thorn and nut and sloe
Let them go! Let them go!
Sand and stone and pool and dell,
Fare you well! Fare you well!

It was a good song for this trip. He began to know how Frodo had felt, saying farewell to the Shire all these months. It was really beginning to sink in that he would be leaving everything he knew, and maybe never come back. But there was going to be so much more to see out in the wide world, in spite of the danger.

Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We’ll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp and meat and bread,
And then to bed! And then to bed!

The song ended. “And now to bed! And now to bed!” sang Pippin in a high voice.

Suddenly Frodo hushed them, and hustled them into the shadow of the trees off the path. There was a sound of hoofs in the lane, some way behind, but coming slow and clear down the wind.

Pippin huddled back beneath the shade of the foliage with Sam and Frodo, as they watched the figure of a black shadow that seemed to seek in their direction. Pippin stifled a gasp, as he noticed the expression on Frodo’s face--his eyes were glazed and unfocused, and his face had gone slack. Sam had noticed as well. Looking alarmed, he started to reach for his master.

But at that moment there came a sound like mingled song and laughter. Clear voices rose and fell in the starlit air. The black shadow straightened up and retreated. It climbed onto the shadowy horse and seemed to vanish across the lane into the darkness on the other side.

“Elves!” exclaimed Sam in a hoarse whisper. “Elves, sir!”

xxxxx

Merry struggled with the letter--what had Pippin said of his own attempts? “Too much or not enough”? He was having the exact same problem as he tried to write a farewell note to his father. He glanced at the crumpled remains of his previous attempts. This was his last try; it would have to do.

Dearest Da,

By the time you find this, I will be long gone. Pippin and I are leaving the Shire with Frodo and Samwise Gamgee.

Please know that this is not a whim or looking for excitement. Frodo is in peril of his life, and rather than bring that peril here to the Shire, he is leaving. You know that I cannot let Frodo walk alone into danger, and Pippin feels the same way.

I cannot promise we will be able to come back, but I promise I will try my best to get us all home safely if I can. I have no idea how long that might take.

I am taking my four ponies, as well as the two cart ponies. You will find a purse with the price of those two beneath the pillow of my bed.

Try to reassure Uncle Paladin and Aunt Tina that I will take the utmost care of Pippin. He would not be stayed, and I thought it better he travel with us than to follow behind alone.

I love you Da, and Mum. That’s part of the reason I go, to help draw the danger away. Please try to understand.

Ever your loving son,

Merry

Merry folded it in thirds and slipped out of his room, down the hall to his father’s study. Carefully he took from Saradoc’s desk the ledger in which he kept an account of wages paid, and opened it to the twenty-eighth of Winterfilth. That would give them a little over four weeks head start. But he would also tell Fatty where the letter was located, in case it was needed sooner. Although he still thought Fatty’s idea a good one, he was well aware that the deception could be discovered sooner than they wished.

As he sat in his father’s darkened study, breathing in the smell of leather and paper and pipeweed, the tears that had threatened him all day found him. He clutched the ledger to his chest and wept as silently as he could, homesick before he had ever gone a step.

Finally he wiped his face roughly with his hand, and replaced the ledger. In his bleary-eyed state, he did not notice that it was not exactly the way he had found it. Then he made his way back to his room and bed.

xxxxx

Gildor Inglorion, of the House of Finrod, had been more than a little amazed to discover the three hobbits in their path that night; and three such remarkable little hobbits at that, though one was the close kin of his friend Bilbo Baggins. For such small mortals, their fëa burned especially bright, and Frodo’s brightest of them all.

Then, to compound his amazement, the smallest, youngest, and apparently boldest, of them had demanded explanations as to why they were being pursued and by whom. This was very distressing, to know that Nazgûl were after these small ones. He had decided to take them under his protection for the night at least.

And just as distressing was the news that they should have been under the protection of Mithrandir. While it was true one did not meddle in the affairs of wizards, he had said that mostly to avoid answering Frodo’s questions. That one of the Istari had seemingly not kept his word was unheard of.

Now that all three of the little ones were finally asleep--really asleep, he thought with amusement, at how one of them had feigned sleep in order to overhear his conversation with Frodo--he could take some action.

He beckoned forth three of his people. “It does not bode well that these innocents are traveling without guidance through the wild. Though I do not know all that Mithrandir had in mind, he was sending them first to Imladris. Novhir and Firré , you will go there to let Lord Elrond know of this news, but take the paths that lead through the forest, for on your way there, I would have you speak to Iarwain Ben-adar, for they may pass his way, and his protection would be valuable. Niledhel, you I would have seek out one of the Dúnadain, Estel or Halbarad if possible, if not, any of their people will do as well; speed is of the essence. These tidings are ill. I would wish we could break our own journey for their sake,” and he looked down with concern at the three sleeping forms, “but at the least we will see that those who can help are forewarned of their peril. Take care, but do not delay.”