Disclaimer: Hobbits, unfortunately, do not belong to me, but are the creation of JRR Tolkien, and the drive for my imagination.

Written for Marigold’s Challenge #3

THE LONGEST DAY

Second Breakfast

Merry’s consciousness slowly became aware of the morning; awakening to birds chirping and the smells of an oncoming autumn that came through the open window in the bedroom at Crickhollow. When he opened his eyes he was heartened to see bright rays of sunshine glowing warm upon the floor tiles. Leaning up onto one elbow, he listened for noises in the kitchen down the hall. There was none; complete silence permeated the little house. Merry dropped back down on his pillows, rubbing his eyes and groaning in protest at having been the first one awake. He laid aside his blankets then slowly stood up from the bed, stretching his aching muscles from the day before. He padded over to the window, peering out into the lane that wound far behind a group of tall elms and oaks. Frodo, Sam, and Pippin ought to be arriving today--probably just in time for lunch.

He and Fredegar Bolger set out from Bag End in Hobbiton two days before with the last wagon load of Frodo’s belongings and furniture. Two more wagons sent ahead were waiting for them when they arrived here yesterday morning. All day long he, Fredegar, and cousins Doderic and Ilberic carried all the heavy furniture inside. They even went so far as to obtain two more tubs from Brandy Hall for the weary travelers when they arrived. There would be no starting out life with an argument between friends over a hot bath.

Merry turned away from the window and went over to the wardrobe. This was the same wardrobe that he used in “his” room back at Bag End, but the usual contents still sat inside the baskets and wooden box stacked together in the corner of the room. His sweaty clothes from yesterday lay in a heap on the floor where he dropped them last night before taking a quick bath himself. He picked up his breeches and unfastened the braces; he would need these.

As he fumbled around to find his extra shirts, his mind wandered back to when he, Frodo, and Pippin went on a walking party through the South Farthing over the summer. He recalled how Frodo kept murmuring things like, “Shall I ever see these fields again?” He and Pippin both knew about the Ring, of course, and that Frodo must leave the Shire soon.

Aha! He found a shirt! He sniffed it to make certain it was clean and then shook out the wrinkles. Now to find a pair of clean breeches--easier said than done in this mess. Once he had all items necessary, he pulled off his nightshirt and changed into his extra clothes, refastening his braces. He slid them up over his shoulders as he made his way out to the privy.

Passing by the bedroom Fredegar was using for his stay at Crickhollow, Merry saw that his friend was indeed still asleep. He smiled to himself, imagining a goose feather flitting above Fredegar’s gaping mouth as he snored. When Merry was finished with his morning routine he began preparations for Second Breakfast. He knew the smell of food would rouse his companion out of bed. They had missed First Breakfast when they slept in late, so Fredegar should be very hungry when he wakes up. After their meal they planned to finish up unpacking the remainder of Frodo’s belongings, making Crickhollow as much like Bag End as possible.

Elevenses

Merry leaned his forehead upon the windowpane watching the water splatter in a slanting pattern. He worried over his friends getting soaked in the morning rainfall--especially Pippin. Now would not be a good time for his cousin to get sick. Fortunately though, it was a warm rain. Merry closed his eyes, wondering at his own future--going off with his cousins and Sam to who knows where. Would he see a clear, blue sky in the Shire ever again? Of course you will, he told himself, pushing the dismal thought away. From what Sam said, Frodo’s purpose was to take the Ring to Rivendell, and that was as far as any of them were willing to think at the moment.

“Merry!”

Merry looked in the direction from where Fredegar’s voice was calling him from the kitchen for Elevenses.

Merry turned from where he stood at the window, wincing in discomfort. He put his hand to his neck to massage it. He and Fredegar had been cleaning and clearing things all morning long. Merry’s sore muscles were slightly objecting to his movements as he craned his neck for one last glimpse up the lane. There was still no sign of his cousins or Sam. They will be here for lunch, he assured himself before walking away from the window.

* * *

“How are the dumplings?”

Merry woke suddenly from his thoughts to arrive at the present. “I’m sorry, Freddie,” he said, “I didn’t hear what you just said.”

“I asked if you liked the dumplings,” he answered. Fredegar seemed crushed that Merry would forget to compliment his cooking. He knew that chicken and dumplings were among Merry’s favorite foods. Knowing that it would be a long time before his friend would savor the taste again, Fredegar decided to make them for Elevenses.

Merry forced a smile saying, “Delicious,” and ate another bite full to prove it.

“Are you thinking about what lies beyond the Shire?”

“Yes,” Merry answered. “and what lies within.”

“They’ll be here soon.” Fredegar finished his plate then began clearing up. They still had a few things to busy themselves with around the house. They would wait to complete the finishing touches of hanging portraits and things until Frodo arrived. It would be no good to pound nails into the wall only for Frodo to not like the angles.

While Fredegar pumped the water into the tub to soak the dishes, Merry got up and went into Frodo’s new study to stack more books on the shelves to appear exactly how it looked in Bag End. As he worked, Merry’s thoughts went to his parents. He could not tell them about leaving the Shire, yet he disliked the thought of worrying them. He had an idea to tell them that he was merely visiting extremely distant cousins in Bree, but that would be an outright lie. Merry hated lying more than not saying anything at all. So instead, he would write a note for Fredegar to give to them long after he was gone--or was found dead. He would have Pippin do the same when he arrived. They should be here any time now.

Luncheon

It was Merry’s turn to cook at Luncheon, but with the heat rising to almost unbearable, they decided to feast on cold meats, bread, and fresh vegetables with a dressing on the side. The rain had stopped and the day was now promising to be quite warm for late September.

After he and Fredegar ate lunch, Merry decided to sit on the swing out in front yard and enjoy the sunshine. He looked up towards the sky, letting the hazy sun kiss his face before she hid herself behind another bank of clouds. This moment would take him all the way to Rivendell; after that, who knows? Already Merry could feel the sun waning towards autumn. He loved the warm summer months; everything was brilliant and full of life.

Merry kept his ears trained in the direction of the lane. Any minute now he expected to hear, Sam, Frodo, and Pippin trudging up the path singing one of Bilbo’s old walking songs. Merry wanted to be the first to greet them. A childish notion he knew, but all the same, he wanted the reassurance that Sam and his cousins were safe. There had been talk of strange folk traveling through the Shire of late.

This is no good, he reasoned to himself, waiting outside like an expectant child yearning for his parents to return from holiday abroad. He got up and strolled around the low hedges that lined the front yard. After a couple of rounds, Merry found himself standing in the middle of the lane trying to see beyond the bend in the path. He thought for a moment he heard voices--someone was approaching! Before he knew it, he was running down the path towards the laughter. His heart gladdened at the sound of-- then he stopped quickly. It was his cousins Doderic and Ilberic--the cousins who helped lift the heavy furniture the day before. 

“Cousin!” Ilberic called to Merry. “What’s wrong? You look dreadfully disappointed--I’m sorry I wasn’t Estella!” The two brothers laughed at the jest.

“I’m not waiting for Estella, you gooses,” Merry answered, “I’m waiting for Frodo.” Now he was sorry that he told these two he was sweet on her.

Doderic walked up and put his hand on Merry’s shoulder. With all sincerity he said, “I’ve heard that Frodo is a confirmed bachelor. You may not want to wait for him!” Then the brothers immediately burst out into more laugher.

Merry only shook his head, turning around to walk back towards the house, but Doderic caught his arm. “Hold up, there cousin,” he said, putting a sack into Merry’s hand. “We can’t stay; our father is waiting for us up there on the road. This is from our family--you know, welcoming Frodo back to the old neighborhood and all.”

Merry opened the sack and saw a loin of salted pork and a rash of bacon. “Please tell your family they have Frodo’s deepest thanks,” he said.

Ilberic looked around part of the front yard that they could see. “They haven’t arrived yet?”

Merry was gazing up towards the road. “No, I’m afraid not.”

Doderic heard the concern in his cousin’s voice. “You know how much Frodo likes tramping around the Shire, Merry. He’s always been strange like that,” he said, desperately trying to cheer up his friend. “Perhaps Frodo made them go an extra round!” He added more seriously, “He’ll be here soon enough, Merry, and then you’ll be sorry you worried yourself into a knot.”

Suddenly out of nowhere, a distant high-pitched sound pierced the tranquility of Crickhollow. Merry’s blood ran cold to his feet; he saw his cousins stiffen as they looked warily around the tree-lined path. After a long silence, it was Ilberic who finally spoke, “I don’t know what sort of animals lurk in these parts, but I think we ought to be going, Dody.”

As Doderic was being pulled by his brother back towards the road he yelled out, “Tell Frodo to try and not eat it all in one sitting!”