CHAPTER 23

When Merry had finished talking with Odovocar, the head of the Bolger clan had agreed to go back with him and meet the envoys from Gondor and Rohan.

But first Merry wanted to talk with Freddy. His friend’s father directed him up the passage to Fredegar’s room. He rapped upon the door briefly, and called out “It’s Merry Brandybuck.”

A listless voice replied “Come in, Merry.”

Freddy lay on top of his bed, fully dressed. He looked up at Merry, and shook his head. “Looks like things are going well for you,” he sighed.

Merry was very disturbed by his friend’s reaction. This was not like Fredegar at all. He looked him over--he was no longer skin and bones, but Merry doubted that anyone except his little sister Estella would ever call him “Fatty” anymore; the bruises and signs of abuse that Merry had seen when he had been taken out of the Lockholes were gone; but something was missing. The intelligent interest that he would show to his friends was gone, and even the look of fatuous humor that was his face to the world at large was no longer there. Instead there was an air of melancholy and deep grief and the sense that he no longer really cared what happened.

And Merry was quite sure he knew why. It had come far too close to happening to him as well. Pippin had survived the troll, but Fredegar’s dearest friend Folco had not survived the ruffian’s abuse.

“I heard about Folco.”

Freddy’s eyes filled with tears. He turned on his side. Merry noticed that on the small table by the bedside lay the flute that Frodo had given to Folco before he left the Shire. It would be the first thing Freddy saw in the morning and the last thing at night.

“You know, you and I never believed it, but it really is made from an oliphaunt’s tooth, or tusk rather.”

This surprised Fredegar into sitting up. “How would you know that?”

“Why because I saw oliphaunts, of course, and because I saw some other similar things carved from their tusks.” Merry sat down on the foot of Freddy’s bed. “It came awfully close for Pip and I. Close enough for me to know how hard it is for you.”

“No one seems to understand. We were together from the time we were faunts. We were like brothers, not just friends and cousins.”

“I understand.” And Merry did. “It’s like two halves of the same heart.”

Freddy began to sob. Merry took him in his arms. “It’s all right to grieve; let it come out.”

After a few minutes, the sobs slowed, and Freddy took a deep breath. “I had to take care of him; he was so innocent, and so thoughtless of what he said. Do you know what sealed his fate?” Freddy’s mouth twisted in a ghost of a smile. “It was a joke. The carp joke about Lotho. I was always telling him not to tell jokes, that he didn’t have the knack for it. But he never listened.”

Merry nodded. “Curiosity. With Pip it’s curiosity. He never listens either, and it nearly got him--and other folks--killed more than once.”

“Estella has told me a little.”

Merry smiled at the mention of Freddy’s sister. “I tend to leave a lot of unpleasant details out of what I tell her.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I think, though that you deserve to hear the whole story, if you still care to know.”

Fredegar looked surprised. “You know, I think that I do. Care, I mean. I haven’t cared about anything for a long time, except getting revenge for Folco--and even that I couldn’t do.”

“I don’t think even you would have wished on Lotho what came to him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. But what about Sandyman? No one will talk about him to me.”

Merry shook his head. “I can’t say. For the first few weeks, people were naturally shunning him. But as the time approached for the collaborators to be sentenced, he vanished. He’s gone from the Shire--I know that, because Uncle Paladin has a reward out for news of him, and there has not been the least bit of it. I think he probably took off with the last of the ruffians. Either that or he’s dead. Saruman’s people were always cruel and treacherous.”

“Saruman?”

“Sharkey’s other name. It’s part of the story. Do you still want to hear it? It will take a lot more time than I have here today.”

“Yes, I do want to. What are you proposing?”

“Come with us, with the King’s delegation, to Tuckborough. As many as there are, I don’t think Aunt Tina will mind one more.”

“Travel with Men?” he looked incredulous.

“These Men are as different from the ruffians as night is from day. You need to see that for yourself.”

“I haven’t been anywhere at all since I came home. I don’t know if I can face people.” But his tone was speculative, rather than dismissive. Merry had hope.

“Come with your father and me, to meet the envoys, this afternoon. Then make up your mind. If you decide to come, you can catch us at Frogmorton tomorrow morning before we leave.”

“I think--” and Freddy sounded surprised at himself, “that I shall do that, at least. Tell Father I’ll be down in just a few minutes to join you.”

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Odovocar was pleased. This was the first interest that his son had shown in anything since he had come home from his ordeal in the Lockholes. Rosamunda was not. She feared that Fredegar would once more become embroiled in something that was none of his business. But one look at the hope on her husband’s face, and on the determination on Meriadoc’s, made her keep her thoughts to herself. She had no intention of antagonizing such a promising future son-in-law.

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The three pulled up at the sight of the group, noticing a certain amount of commotion. They were just in time to hear Saradoc, Paladin and Frodo finish putting Gil Chubb in his place. Merry grinned and shook his head. “Listen at my Da,” he said proudly. “That Chubb is such a loud-mouthed fool. I wish I’d been here to see the rest of it.” He dismounted, and turned to the Bolgers. “Come on, and I will introduce you to everyone.”

 Merry, Freddy and Odovocar dismounted. The elder Bolger was immediately claimed by the Thain and the Master, who took him to be introduced to Targon and Éothain.

Fredegar found himself greeted with cries of joy by Frodo, Sam and Pippin, who all wanted to embrace him, for none of them had seen him since he had been saved from his imprisonment.

“You are definitely looking much better than the last time I saw you!” exclaimed Pippin.

“It’s very good to see you out and about, Mr. Freddy,” said Sam.

“Fredegar, I have missed you,” Frodo said simply, as he gave his friend a sturdy hug. “I’m so sorry, for everything.”

In his grief at losing Folco, Fredegar had forgotten he had other friends who loved him and cared about him. He was surprised to remember that he loved and missed them as well. It was not the same, and never could be, but still, it felt good to have friends again.

Merry was tugging at him. “Freddy, there are some people I would like you to meet.”

He turned to see standing before him a Dwarf--and an Elf. An Elf. Never had he thought to see, much less meet, one of the Firstborn. He distantly heard the name of the Dwarf--Gimli son of Gloín--why did that sound vaguely familiar? He made the appropriate response without thinking about it.

“Legolas of Mirkwood, this is my friend Fredegar Bolger.” The tall and beautiful being knelt down to Freddy’s level, looking at him with ancient eyes.

“I am pleased to meet you, Fredegar; I have heard good things about you.”

Freddy gaped, searching frantically in his brain for the words of Elvish greeting Frodo had taught him years ago. He knew he was making a tongue-tied fool of himself, and yet seemed helpless to stop it. The Elf was smiling at him in kindly amusement.

The Dwarf laughed. “Laddie, you’ve done it again. You have got to stop striking these mortals dumb.”

Freddy felt Merry’s elbow in his ribs, and Pippin gave him a light blow on the shoulder, and he finally found his tongue. “I am pleased to meet you, Master Legolas,” he croaked.

Frodo laughed lightly. “It’s all right, Fredegar. He is quite real.”

Sam leaned forward to whisper in his ear “Mr. Freddy, don’t worry about it. They *are* kind of overpowering at first.”

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Freddy and his father rode with the party of travelers as far as Frogmorton, and then turned back for home. Odovocar had been given a great deal to think about; he had to admit that these Men definitely made a better impression than any he had met before. But the thing that made him most hopeful was the dawn of awareness and hope in his son’s face. It was not until Folco was gone that Fredegar’s parents had realized how deep the bond was between the two friends. They had always known that Folco needed Fatty to look after him; they had not realized that he needed Folco as well. Then after their son’s ordeal in the Lockholes, they had simply feared for his physical health. Only since his return home had they understood that something in him was forever gone. Maybe, just maybe, they might see a little spark of it return.

“Father, do you think I should accept Merry’s invitation to ride with them all to Tuckborough?” Freddy had not given Merry a definite answer, but told him that if he were going, he would come back to Frogmorton in the morning before they departed. He was still not sure about it.

“Yes, son, I do. And we will be following soon after, for the conclave.”

“Mother will not be happy.”

“Let me deal with your mother.” Odovocar chose his moments of opposition to Rosamunda with care. He gave her her own way on almost anything--until he thought it important enough. She knew when he did oppose her, he was nigh immovable, and so she seldom argued.

“Very well, I will go with them. At least it will be interesting to speak to an Elf.” He gave a small chuckle.

Odovocar was overjoyed. That was the first thing even resembling a laugh he had heard from his son since the Troubles began.

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