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GamgeeFest's Keepsakes  by GamgeeFest

Written for Marigold’s Challenge #28, which required at least one naked hobbit.

A/N: At the end of “The Usual Suspects”, Frodo confesses to some of his ‘crimes’ to Esme and Saradoc. This was one of those crimes.

Beta: Marigold
 
 
 
 

In A Flash

Frodo 17, Berilac 6 and Merry 4 (about 11, 3 ½ and 2 ½ in Man years)

30 Forelithe, 1386 SR

The Brandy Hall Summer Feast of 1386 would go down in Shire history as the most unforgettable feast ever to be celebrated in Buckland for many reasons, but only one of those reasons would be largely remembered and retold year after year.

All the Brandy Hall feasts were worthy of remembrance in and of themselves, thanks to the custom begun by Gorbadoc the Broadbelt, who served so many victuals at all his feasts that it snowed food and rained drink, as they say. The feast of 1386, though Gordaboc had long ago passed, was no exception. Master Rorimac was determined that each feast be better and greater than the one before, and he kept to his father’s tradition of having only the best food and wines served to his guests. However, this was only to be expected, and so was not what made this feast so memorable.

There is also to be considered the fact that the Summer Feast was held on the eve of Lithe, and was looked forward to by all hobbits as the kickoff for the Mid-Year celebrations. It was well believed that the eve of Lithe held about it a special sort of magic, and that any promises of intention made that night would guarantee long and happy marriages. Any older tween or young adult ready to set their cap on that special someone would remember that night for that very reason alone, and as it so happened, a good handful of hobbits do remember it as the night they declared their love. Yet, this hardly explains why nearly all of Buckland and most of the Shire-proper would learn of this particular night and speak of it for ninety-nine days (and remember it for much longer).

Some say that it was so widely remembered for the costumes, and to a certain extent, that was true. Menegilda had decided that the traditional feasts had grown a bit stale and needed a bit of shaking up to make them more lively. So she announced two months prior to the feast, at the Spring Festival celebration no less, that this year’s banquet would be a masked ball. Not only were hobbits expected to dress in their best and finest, they were now also expected to create masks to wear so that people would then have to guess both who they were and what their costume was. This idea took a bit of getting used to, but after a couple of weeks, everyone was quite taken with the notion and were busily planning their attire. So this certainly did make that feast worth remembering, for it was the first masked ball ever to be held in Buckland, but as it wasn’t the last, most folk tend to forget that little bit of historical fact.

So what then made the Summer Feast of 1386 so memorable?

The day had begun normally enough and progressed the same way as any other feast day. Mistress Menegilda had all the servants and residents of the Hall hopping, cooking food to feed hundreds and setting up the pavilion atop the summit of Buck Hill and arranging the benches, tables and chairs, for the Summer Feast took full advantage of the warm weather and was held outdoors, under the evening sky. The matrons and masters of the Hall also had their assignments. They went through the tunnels making sure that the decorations were being put in place, that all the silver and surfaces were polished, that everyone would have a seat for the feast, and that all the residents had ample costumes. This last task took up quite a bit of the matrons’ time, for there were a handful of poorly unimaginative hobbits who had waited until the last possible moment to ask for help in deciding their costumes, and there was now a last-minute rush by said hobbits to the mathom closets, looking for anything that would serve as a mask to borrow for the night. This kept the matrons busy from sunup to feast time, and they had little attention to spare for anything else. So while the mayhem and frantic final preparations were a bit more harried than in previous years or feasts, that hardly batted anyone’s eye and isn’t even noted in any of the accounts for that night, save a spare few.

Even the children found nothing very spectacular about this day. Oh, it’s true enough that all children love such days, for while their mothers were out seeing to everyone else, and while their fathers were up on the summit setting things up and moving things about, the tweens and juniors were left entirely on their own to do as they saw fit. One would think that a receipt for disaster, but this was hardly ever the case, as the tweens, who were often the biggest concern when it came to unattended hobbit children, spent the majority of their day perfecting their attire, masks and hair, and speculating on who would be wearing what, who would dance with whom, and how they would go about getting their intended under the promise tree that grew at the far end of the summit. This left the juniors to fend for themselves. The nursemaids were employed to keep an eye on this remaining population as much as they could, but with only a dozen or so nursemaids and well over forty juniors, it cannot be surprising that some especially crafty and sneaky hobbit children slipped past their vigilance. Yet the worst these children ever did was raid the pantries, mathom rooms or their older siblings or parents wardrobes, and any innocent antics they got into were quickly forgotten.

Except for one, but that would be a Baggins’ tale to tell.  


“Frodo!”

“Yes Aunt Esme!”

I dashed from my room at my cousin’s call and into the study where she and Saradoc were busy preparing for the day ahead. All the elders were going to be busy today with one thing or another and so I had a pretty good idea what they were going to ask of me. Sure enough, as soon as I entered the study, Esme pointed right at Merry, who was fast asleep on his blanket on the floor, drooling slightly as he snoozed. I bent down over Merry and gently poked him in the belly. The faunt’s face scrunched up for a second, then smoothed back into deep sleep.

“Could you watch him today?” Esme asked. “The nursemaids are going to be busy enough looking after everyone else’s children. I’d feel more comfortable if you were watching him.”

I nodded happily, for I could never spend enough time alone with my little Merry Shadow, or Meadow as I’d been calling him lately. “Of course, Aunt Esme. What about Berry?” I asked, since I knew that Mac and Berylla also had things to see to and Berilac would only get in their way, for all that he was such a complacent child.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Saradoc said.

I sat on the floor next to Merry and looked fondly at my little cousin. “Of course not. I could take them to the gardens and let them play hide-and-seek.”

“I suggest you plan more games than just that, Frodo,” Saradoc advised. “They’ll soon get bored of the same game.”

“I’ll find things for them to do,” I said without concern. I was already thinking of several games to keep the children occupied. I knew all the games Merry liked to play and it was a safe bet that Berry would enjoy them also, as he was only two years older than Merry.

We ate first breakfast in the apartment, then I helped Merry into his play clothes. Since it promised to be warm out today, I dressed him in an old pair of breeches and a light shirt. He was happy to find out that he’d be spending the day with me and squirmed around a lot while I buttoned up his shirt. He was all smiles until I told him that Berry would come along also. Then his little face scrunched up and his brow furrowed.

“What’s with the frown?” I asked. “Don’t you like spending time with your cousin Berry?”

“I do, but…” Merry said, trailing off.

“What?”

“He’s better at everything than I am,” Merry complained. “He always wins anything we play.”

“Well, he’s older than you Merry. He’s going to be better at certain things. I’m older than you also, and I can do all sorts of things that you can’t,” I pointed out.

“I know, but you’re old. You’ve had all sorts of time to get good at stuff,” Merry pointed out.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said with a grin. I tucked his shirt into his breeches and snapped his braces into place. “Ready Meadow?”

Merry nodded and slipped his hand into mine. I let Esme and Sara know we were leaving and then picked Merry up once we were outside in the tunnels. The whole Hall was bustling with hobbits running about and seeing to all the last-minute preparations and I was afraid Merry might get trampled if he walked.

It was only a short way to Mac and Berylla’s apartment as they lived just a couple of doors down along the West Tunnel. I put Merry down once we were there and told him to stay close, then knocked on the door. A moment later, Berylla answered and beamed at us. “Frodo dear! Merry-lad! How lovely to see you. Is there something I can help you lads with?”

“No, Aunt Berylla. I was going to offer to help look after Berry today,” I said. “The nursemaids have enough children to look after as it is, and I thought I’d take Merry and Berry outside to do some running about. I’ll wash them both up after luncheon and then bring Berry back here so you can get him ready for the tea and feast.”

“How thoughtful of you, dear,” Berylla said and let us inside. “I was just about to take him to the nursery. Just let me finish getting him ready. Have a seat.”

A short time later, Berylla was back with Berry in tow. His clothes were newer and less stained than Merry’s, and his hair was freshly brushed, whereas Merry had fought me and wouldn’t let me untangle his curls. Merry looked at his cousin critically, then down at himself and scrunched up his nose as he considered the situation. I could well imagine what was going through his mind: Berry looked much nicer, but Merry’s clothes had seen more playtime. He eventually shrugged; he must have decided it was a toss-up.

Berylla kneeled down in front of Berilac, turning him around and adjusting his clothes and hair just so. “You’re going to go with your cousin Frodo for the day, and you are to mind him and listen to everything he says, understand,” Berylla said and Berry nodded.

“Yes, Mummy.”

Merry tugged on my sleeve and I bent over so he could whisper in my ear. “Can you tell him to lose to me?” he said.

“That would be cheating,” I whispered back.

Once we were back in the tunnels, I stooped down to pick up Merry again, but he held back and said he could walk like a big lad. I insisted that they each hold my hand, but Merry only complied after Berry took my left hand. I sighed. If Merry was going to be like this all morning, this could turn into a very long day indeed.

I led them outside to the gardens and found Iola Bolger and Posy Goold already there with our cousins Merimas and Mentha Brandybuck and Gordi Burrows. They had the children painting on several large pieces of parchment, and Berry and Merry ran to join them. I didn’t stop them, figuring that at least this wasn’t something that Merry could compete over with Berry. I took a seat on the other side of the garden, under no illusions that the lasses would want to talk to me, and made sure that Merry and Berry were playing contentedly. I thought everything was going fine until it was nearly time for second breakfast. Merry stood up and walked over to me, pouting.

“What’s wrong Meadow?” I asked.

“His hand is bigger than mine and he filled up his page first,” Merry said, and pouted more. I thought his lower lip would fall off, he was sticking it out so much.

“Well, why didn’t you make a picture?” I said. “You don’t have to do everything he does.”

“We did make pictures and his was better too.”

Just then, Berilac stood up and washed his hands in the bucket of water sitting nearby, then came over and handed me the picture he had made. I did have to admit (to myself) that it was very good for a six-year old. “That’s my mum,” he said and I nodded, for it had been obvious enough. Even though the lines were a bit distorted and the circle for her face was a little lopsided, the painting did look quite a lot like his mother. “I’m going to give it to her as a present.”

“I’m giving my mum my picture too,” Merry said then and added a bit smugly, “She hangs my paintings on the hope chest in the parlor – for guests to see.”

Berry nodded to that, then looked back up at me, completely unaware that Merry was attempting to challenge him. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m hungrier,” Merry said.

“Then go get your painting and we’ll go inside to eat,” I said and waited for Merry to return and hand me the parchment he had painted on. There was blue and green on it (the sky and grass, I assumed) and a brown line (a tree?) and then a big red and yellow blob in the middle. “This is wonderful Merry! I have never seen a painting quite like this.”

Merry beamed proudly and thankfully didn’t ask me to guess what it was like he usually did.

We went back to the Hall and I stored the paintings in the apartment for safekeeping. We entered the dining hall and the children ran to sit at the junior table with the other youngsters. I found a seat at the teen and tween table between Bordoc and Alcanas, two Brandybuck cousins of very little personality. Thankfully, their main focus was on eating and I wasn’t forced to talk to them.

After second breakfast, I took the lads to the stables and let them feed the ponies and bring them fresh water while the ostlers were out walking some of the beasts. Berry quickly found that it was easier to stack the empty feed pails together and take them in one go to the bins for filling, and then take the full pails one at a time back to the ponies’ stalls. Merry tried to do this also and I could see a little light flash in his head when he saw the way Berry was taking the pails back. Merry snickered to himself and set to stacking the full pails and carrying them back all at once, only the pails were now too heavy for him and he stumbled at one point, sending the pails careening to the floor and the oats scattering everywhere. Berry stopped what he was doing and helped Merry and me to gather up the oats and refill the pails.

The ponies fed, I decided that we might as well top off the water troughs too. Merry’s pout returned and only deepened when Berilac managed to fill up more water pails than him. It was a struggle for them both, and I had to go back and forth between them to lift the water jug and pour the water into the pails, but Merry only saw that Berry didn’t struggle as much as he did and could lift the water jug higher before requiring help.

After the ponies were all seen to, I took the lads down to the river and found some of the fishing rods that were kept in a storehouse near the ferry landing. I took them a little further downstream, to a place where we could sit with our feet in the water and keep cool under the shade of the birches that grew near the water’s edge. My plan was to occupy them in this manner until elevenses, figuring that there was no way Merry could find anything to compete over since there was little chance that any of us would catch any fish.

I was wrong.

Merry soon became convinced that Berilac was able to cast his line further into the river than he could. I sat behind Merry and took his pole hand in mine. “Here, Merry, like this,” I said and demonstrated drawing the line back and forth. “Once, twice. Keep the wrist relaxed. Then on the third time, when your hand starts to move forward, flick your wrist and let the line go.”

Merry nodded and after a few more demonstrations, he attempted it on his own. Berilac watched him intently and shook his head as Merry’s line fell in the water just inches from the bank. “Relax your wrist,” he instructed Merry. “Like this.” And he demonstrated easily, his line landing a good three feet into the river, much to Merry’s chagrin.

Really, is there anything this child can’t do? No wonder Merry’s always trying to outdo him. Even I couldn’t cast a line that effortlessly until I was nine. Then I chuckled at myself for feeling jealous of a six-year old and reminded myself that Uncle Mac was, after all, a master fisherhobbit. Of course, Berilac would have more practice with fishing than the average child. I was in the process of quietly explaining this to Merry when Berry’s line caught a bite.

“I’ve got one!” he exclaimed, but he frowned as he started to reel in his catch.

“You got one?” I asked, incredulous. “It’s the wrong time of day! There’s no fish out right now.”

Berry looked up at me and shrugged, then went back to drawing in his fish. It turned out to be a little golden fish, which Berry instantly unhooked and tossed back into the river.

“Why’d you do that?” Merry asked.

“That’s a swordtail. You don’t eat those,” Berry said, then lengthened his line before recasting it further into the river.

Merry threw me a look that said ‘See, I told you’ and went back to struggling with his line. Merry had finally cast a satisfactory line around half past ten, but he never caught anything on it. Berry’s catch was the only one any of us made.

I had brought snacks for elevenses, so we remained by the river until luncheon. When the lads tired of fishing, we walked along the riverbank looking for stones to skip across the river. As should have been expected, Berry picked up the skill with ease and was soon skipping rocks without thought. He even attempted to skip the rocks twice in a row and after a handful of attempts, he figured out the technique for that as well. Merry, on the other hand, couldn’t even get his rocks to skip once, even though I picked the stones myself and showed him several times how to do it.

Finally, our stomachs started grumbling for luncheon and we headed back to the Hall. Merry tried to race Berry the last hundred yards, but Berry was tall for his age and had longer legs. He reached the West Door well ahead of Merry and gracefully congratulated his younger cousin on a good race. The competition extended into the dining hall, as Berry even ate faster than Merry did. By the time luncheon was over, Merry was feeling thoroughly demoralized and Berry still hadn’t a clue what was going on.

I took the children to the bathing rooms and made sure they were scrubbed clean from head to toe. Berylla found us as we were leaving the bathing rooms and took Berry to have a nap before getting dressed. Esme and Sara were in the apartment getting ready when Merry and I returned. I settled him to his own nap, then let my guardians know that I was leaving for my own bath. I washed as quickly as I could and returned just as Esme and Sara were getting ready to leave; they needed to be on the summit to greet the guests.

“You look beautiful, Aunt Esme,” I said. “And Uncle Sara, you’re quite dashing.”

For they were. Esme was wearing a dress of deep scarlet with a long skirt, a white fur shawl wrapped over her shoulders. She had chosen a pony as her mask and it had a long mane of red-stained feathers down the back. Saradoc wore a white overcoat, black waistcoat and white shirt, his breeches a deep brown. His mask was a cow.

“Thank you dear,” they said.

“Merry’s still asleep,” Saradoc said. “Get yourself dressed first, then wake him up and see him dressed. Don’t be late. The Master’s speech starts right at four.”

“Yes Uncle Sara,” I said and went into my room to dress.

I had discovered early on that most people were going as either a pony, a pig, a cow or a deer. There were a few lasses going as cats and fewer lads going as dogs, but that was the end of everyone’s imagination. I had tried to convince Esme and Sara to let me go as a dragon or a wolf but they thought that was in poor taste. They wouldn’t let me be a fox or a crow either, saying that those animals pestered the farmers too much and such a costume wouldn’t be thought of kindly. Finally, I settled on being an owl and I found an old brown dress coat in one of the mathom rooms that Esme said I could paint feathers on.

After I was dressed, I went into Merry’s room to wake him up. I waited until he was finished yawning and could stand up on his own before helping him into his dress clothes. He would be wearing light brown and green, and his mask was deer.

“Berry’s going as a pony,” he announced. “I want to be a pony too. I’d make a much better pony than he would.”

“You’ve already got your deer mask,” I said. “It’s too late to change now.”

“Why?”

“Because the feast starts at teatime, which is just an hour away,” I pointed out.

“But I’d look much cuter as a pony than Berry and no one will know if I don’t go as a pony,” Merry said.

I sighed. “Look, Merry, it’s too late. You’re just going to have to make due as the cutest little deer there is. And as for this little competition with Berry, if you just stopped caring so much about outdoing him all the time, you’d have a lot more fun.”

“I just want to be able to do one thing better than him, that’s all,” Merry said, crossing his arms and pouting. “Da’s always saying how Berry’s so much more well-behaved than me, and how he’s already taking his lessons early.”

“He did start his lessons early,” I said, “but that’s hardly anything to be jealous of because while he’s stuck inside learning to write letters, you are outside playing.”

“But I’m just as smart as he is!” Merry said.

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” I said, then stood back, thinking hard. “Besides, there is one thing you do much, much better than him.”

“What’s that?” he asked, eager to know in what way he was superior to his older cousin.

Then I smiled as an idea formed in my mind, a horrible, terrible, deplorable idea that was just too tempting to pass up. I would be fibbing just a little, but Merry didn’t need to know that. He only needed to know that he could excel Berry in some way and then he would put this whole one-sided competition behind him. And if it just so happened that folk would talk about it for a while, then that was all the better.

“Well, you’re too young to remember this, but Berry has himself a sort of record, and I’m sure you could beat it without breaking a sweat,” I said and put my plan into motion.  


Everyone was gathered under the grand pavilion atop Buck Hill. Merry and I were amongst the first ones there and everyone exclaimed over how adorable Merry was in his deer costume. All the matrons pinched his cheeks or squeezed his chin and all the fellows ruffled his curls and said how big he was getting. Thankfully, he didn’t notice that Berry was receiving the exact same treatment and he was able to bathe in the praise like a plant in sunlight. Everyone agreed that my costume was quite original and I received more than a few comments from cousins saying they would have to try my method of matching my clothes to my mask the next year. Everyone was dressed spectacularly and saying how wonderful everyone’s masks were.

Just before four o’clock, everyone lined up at the serving tables and got their food, then took their seats at the various tables. At the front of the pavilion were four long rows of benches for the elders and they arranged themselves so they sat next to their spouses and closest friends and favorite cousins. The two large round tables near the back of the pavilion were for children of all ages, and I found myself once again sitting between Bordoc and Alcanas. Merry set his plate down across from me; within a space of wink, he disappeared, dashing outside. I pretended not to notice.

Soon enough, everyone was seated and served, their glasses filled with their beverage of choice, their masks in place. It was quite a sight, all those hobbits trying to look like animals, waiting patiently for the Master to make the opening speech so we could eat. Aunt Menegilda sat at the head table with Uncle Rory beside her and she looked out over the multitude with pride. Despite everyone’s earlier protests, they were quite enjoying their costumes now, especially since they had all found ways of designing or wearing their masks that wouldn’t impede their eating. Uncle Rory stood up and clanked his glass with a spoon to get everyone’s attention, not that he didn’t have it already.

“Good day, my fellow hobbits,” Uncle Rory said and everyone cheered and raised their glasses, hoping that was the end of it, but Rory continued on. “Another Mid-Year’s Day is upon us and another fruitful year is half-gone. What a delight it is to be gathered here this afternoon to celebrate our good fortune. The Lithe Day Festival, as you all know, will commence first thing tomorrow morning out at Crafter’s Field and we expect there to be many wonderful entries for all contests. Last-minute entries for the produce and animal husbandry judging contests must be cleared by myself, Saradas, Dino or Dodi; last-minute entries for the home crafts contests must be cleared by Menegilda, Amaranth, or Asphodel, no later than nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I would also like to remind everyone that—”

At that moment, a loud screech sounded outside the pavilion, cutting off Rory’s speech. Everyone turned their heads to look in the direction of the yell and a half-minute later, Merry came dashing into the pavilion and right through it from one end to the other, wearing not a stitch of clothing and screaming cheerily at the top of his lungs the whole time. I quickly covered my mouth with a napkin and watched as everyone sat in silent shock. No one moved or blinked or even breathed. They simply stared agape at the spot where Merry’s bare bottom had exited, looks of complete bewilderment on all of their faces. Esme and Saradoc quickly shot glances at each other, then at the table where Merry was supposed to be sitting, then back at the spot where Merry had run from the tent, as if they couldn’t truly believe that that had been their son.

Well, if they didn’t believe it the first time, there was no doubt the second time. Merry dashed back inside, giggling uncontrollably, and weaved around one of the tables on his way back outside to where he had entered the first time. Now some of the hobbits were starting to laugh and chuckle, and more than a few of them, especially the younger teens and tweens, were blushing furiously. Saradoc had stood up during that second run and scowled after his exposed son, still too frozen with shock to actually take any action.

When Merry ran through a third time, this time stopping to grab some biscuits from the food table and sample the frosting on the cake, nearly everyone had got over their shock and were laughing their heads off. Rory was barely able to control himself enough to signal Dodi, Dino and Saradas to go chasing after Merry and pin him down. But the uncles got the command too late and Merry had run outside again, stopping just outside the tent flap to jiggle his little bum at everyone.

It was on his fourth run that things got out of hand. All the uncles and Saradoc lunged after him but Merry was too quick for them and sidestepped them all. Then he ran underneath the first row of benches, causing everyone seated there to jump up, and trip over each other and the benches on which they were sitting. The uncles tried to grab him again when he came out at the other end, but at this point, Merry had worked up a bit of a sweat, and his slick bare skin easily slipped out of their grasp, and it didn’t help matters that there was nothing for them to grab hold of. He went dashing for the other end of the pavilion, his little face alight with glee. He was enjoying this game!

Now others were joining the effort to grab hold of Merry, but he kept easily and lithely evading capture, by dodging and dashing under more tables. Finally, Seredic grabbed a tablecloth off one of the tables, inevitably sending food sprawling everywhere, including the hobbits sitting at the next table over. Edic bent over low and dashed after Merry at full speed. Merry bee-lined for the edge of the tent but there was no opening where he was heading. He told me later that he was planning to wriggle his way out under the tent, but just at the moment that he reached the canvas, both Edic and Uncle Dodi came at Merry from different directions. They collided into each other and went careening into a couple of the supports for the pavilion. The supports gave way and the pavilion started to cave in. Hobbits went running out of the tent, afraid it would come down completely, and Merry made his escape with the rush.

It was a good long while before order was restored. The support beams were reset and the tent was fixed in a wink. The spilled food was cleared away and the benches and chairs put back where they belonged. The hobbits whose food was spoiled were served anew while the other hobbits cleaned themselves off as best they could. Then everyone retook their seats, laughing and chuckling still. Or almost everyone. Saradoc and the uncles were prowling around and outside the pavilion looking for signs of Merry. Uncle Rory didn’t bother finishing his speech and everyone was too busy talking about the spectacle to eat.

After a few minutes, Saradoc and the uncles returned, and Saradoc was carrying a half-dressed Merry under his arm. Merry had been hiding behind the promise tree attempting to button up his shirt and tuck it into his breeches when he was discovered and finally captured by Uncle Saradas. The uncles came back in laughing heartily, but Saradoc was as red as Esme’s dress. Merry was grinning from ear to ear and he winked at me as they went past. Saradoc and Esme looked like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to laugh or scold Merry right there on the spot. In the end, they seated the lad between them and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to sit there and not move an inch for the remainder of tea. To his credit, Merry did just that.

After tea, as we were all making our way out of the pavilion to the dance area, Merry came running up to me and bounced up into my arms. “Did I do it! Did I do it!” he said. “Did I break his record? Was that ten times?”

“Meadow, that was fifty times,” I said.

“It was!”

I nodded and ruffled his curls proudly. “You obliterated his record! He’ll never be able to match it even if he tries for the rest of his life.”

“Really?” Merry said, grinning even more, which I hadn’t thought would be possible. Really, his face was about to split in two.

I nodded again. “But, we should be good sports about this and not gloat over it. I’m sure Berry’s already feeling bad enough about it as it is.” I also didn’t want to explain that Berry had not actually streaked through last year’s summer feast, that streaking was not a real tradition, and that Berry had likely forgotten about his real flash run down the tunnels of Brandy Hall three years ago.

To my relief, Merry nodded. “All right! Can I do that again sometime?”

I shook my head. “Afraid not. It’s one of the rules. You can only streak once in your life.”

“Why?”

“Because any more than that would be incredibly odd,” I explained.

“Oh.” Merry settled his head on my shoulder and yawned widely. “Maybe next year, you can do the streaking.”

I laughed nervously and tried not to blush. “Oh, but I’ve already done my one time, before you were even born,” I lied quickly and hoped Merry never found out the truth. The last thing I wanted to do was bare my nether regions for everyone to see.
 
 
 

The End.
 
 
 

GF 5/5/06

 





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