Title: Merry`s Secret

Author: Anso the Hobbit

Beta: Marigold

Characters: The hobbits, including Bilbo

Timeline: Rivendell SR 1419

Summary: Merry has a secret…

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Part One: Confession

”Bilbo” Merry said, his eyes downcast and his face contrite. “May I talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course, my lad. What is it?” The old hobbit looked at his young relative with curiosity. Why did Merry voluntarily come to him with such a guilty look upon his face? Had Frodo perhaps sent him to make up for some misdeed? “Come, walk with me. It’s always nice to have a smoke after a good meal, and I’ve had no news of Buckland for ages! Tell me Merry-lad, how’s business going? Is your mother well?” He took Merry by the elbow and steered the two of them towards the gardens. Upon reaching the stairs, Merry gently took his elderly cousin`s arm and helped Bilbo descend to the gardens.

Frodo had been healed to the extent Lord Elrond could manage, and the Council was over and done. All the hobbits were enjoying the waiting time in Rivendell, although with anticipation of upcoming decisions and the journey ahead. Merry and Pippin wandered about the Elven abode and sometimes Frodo and Sam, and on a few occasions, even Bilbo went with them. Most of the talk though, had been about Frodo and the Quest to come, and Bilbo had not had time yet to talk to Merry or Pippin about the goings on of the Tookland or Buckland. So it was with a great deal of anticipation that the old hobbit sat down on a bench in a secluded corner, Merry beside him. They lit their pipes.

“Now, then. What was it you wanted to talk about?” Bilbo asked after they had discussed in depth the delicious luncheon they had just shared with the other hobbits and Merry had satisfied Bilbo`s curiosity about various Buckland business and on-goings.

“I have a confession to make.” Merry finally said. He looked at his old cousin for a moment, but saw no judgement in the warm, brown eyes.

“Is that so, Meriadoc? What have you done now?” Bilbo could not help but ask, amusement and expectations of tales about wild behaviour in his eyes.

Merry laughed and shook his head, then drew a deep breath. “Bilbo…” He suddenly stopped, gathering courage. The tips of his ears grew red and he felt like a little lad again. What would Bilbo say? Merry gathered his thoughts and plunged into it.

“I knew of the Ring before Frodo left. I have known of it since before you left actually.” Merry stopped and looked at Bilbo, trying to discern what the other one might think of this. Merry had pondered how to tell the Ring-finder about his knowledge of the Ring. For some reason he felt that Bilbo had to know. Frodo might have told him, but if he had, he hadn’t told Merry about it. And how would Bilbo react to this information, suddenly talking about the Ring so long after he had given it away? By all accounts the Ring could do strange things to the bearer, and Bilbo had held it long. He wondered suddenly if he should be talking about the Ring with Bilbo at all.

Merry remembered Bilbo as a kind, loving old relative that doled out sweets and pats on the head. Fondly Merry remembered his blackberry tarts and cinnamon biscuits. He almost was hungry again at the thought. Bilbo had patched up scrapes and dried tears, given hugs and when necessary, scolding sternly but fondly. He was an awe-inspiring hobbit that had seen the Outside and told wonderful tales full of elves and men and dragons. And he had led Merry into the secret world of understanding maps. Merry loved his old cousin dearly, and had missed him terribly when he left all those years ago. Now Merry was drawn back into the present by his cousin’s voice.

“How is that possible? How could you have known?” Bilbo said, his voice even, but there was a hint that he did not quite know what to believe before the whole tale was told. “Did Frodo tell you about the Ring?” Bilbo knew that next to himself, Merry was the hobbit Frodo would sit down and serious talk with, but he did not believe his dear Frodo would have told Merry about the Ring, secret as it was.

“No, nothing like that. He tried to hide it, but we caught him in the end.” Merry said with a twinkle in his eye. “I knew about it long ago. I saw you put it on once, and…” Merry cast his eyes down again, blushing slightly. “And I’ve read your book.” Merry cringed away a little, as if expecting a blow he knew his older cousin never had and never would give him.

Shock filled Bilbo`s eyes, before he nodded slowly. That he had known of the Ring before Frodo left, did not surprise Bilbo. He knew Merry. But that Merry had known of it before he had left himself, now that was news to Bilbo. But, he asked himself, should he really have been surprised? In his opinion, Frodo was the best hobbit in the Shire, but he had always counted young Merry a close second. The line of the Masters of Buckland were known for their sharp minds, and the lad’s grandfather, Rory, and his father, Saradoc, were Brandybucks through and through and Merry had inherited more than just the Brandybuck features. And his mother was a Took, and a very Tookish one at that. A combination to be reckoned with, and Bilbo had noticed even when Merry was very small that the lad possessed many of the best qualities of both bloodlines. No, if anyone in the Shire were to have discovered the existence of the Ring, he might have guessed it would be Meriadoc.

 “I might have known. It seems that you are quite thorough in your investigations my lad. I suspect you planned this current conspiracy too?

Merry nodded. “I had good help in Sam and Pip, though.” Bilbo had been told some of the tale about how the conspiracy came to be, but how Merry first came to know about the Ring had been left out. “I first told Frodo that I knew of the Ring at Crickhollow.” Merry continued. “He was quite shocked to learn that I knew of its existence.” Bilbo shook his head, and looked back at Merry.

“So tell me Meriadoc. How did you come to know of my old Ring then?” Bilbo said, adventure and mischief dancing in his old eyes. There was a tale to be told, and this time Bilbo was the listener and not the storyteller.