Chapter 1- Merry’s First, Frodo’s Last

“No, Merry, you can’t come. That is my final word on the subject.”

Little Merry’s face dropped in disappointment as Frodo delivered his final edict. Such a sombre look on the lad’s face struck at Frodo’s heart. Such a little lad, he was. No lad that size should really be tagging along with Frodo everywhere. Frodo scrunched his face up, thinking hard. Perhaps he was ready. Just maybe he could tag along this time. After all, Frodo had been younger than Merry when he first started. Perhaps it was time to show Merry how to sneak into Farmer Maggot’s fields.

With a sigh, Frodo knelt down in front of the small, pouting lad. “Merry.”

Merry didn’t look up.

“Merry, listen to me. Will you promise me to be careful?”

Merry looked up, hope dawning in his bright blue eyes.

“You have to follow my orders, yes?”

Hope seemed to be expanding the lad’s chest, as his eyes grew wider. “Oh, yes, Frodo! I promise!”

“You know where we’re going, don’t you?”

Merry nodded. “To Farmer Maggot’s fields,” he answered promptly.

For a moment, Frodo felt a little guilty exposing such an innocent lad to the time honoured tradition of “borrowing” Farmer Maggot’s crop. He knew that Merry’s innocence would not last forever, and sooner or later he would test Farmer Maggot’s patience. If Frodo did not teach the lad the proper way to slip away from Farmer Maggot now, he'd soon get himself into more trouble than he could probably handle. The feeling of guilt soon passed when Frodo remembered his own first exploits towards Farmer Maggot. Most of his first attempts ended with Frodo face to face with those vicious dogs Farmer Maggot kept. He couldn’t let that happen to his little Merry.

“Alright, lad,” Frodo said. “Let’s go. Get your coat, but not your cloak. Never go to Farmer Maggot’s wearing your cloak.”

“Alright!” Merry bounded off eagerly to retrieve his coat.

Frodo retrieved his own coat and waited for Merry outside the front door. Soon, Merry bounded out of the smial, and swung himself on his older cousin’s arm.

Not long after, the cousins were crossing hills topped with emerald trees and coated in warm sunflowers. Merry, just happy to be out of the close smial, ran through the flowers, scattering soft petals and butterflies to the wind. Frodo was content to just watch his little cousin’s happiness spill over. As they neared Farmer Maggot’s fields, however, Frodo became more cautious and called Merry over to him.

“Now, Merry,” he began. “You must be quiet. If Farmer Maggot catches us, he’ll set his dogs loose on us. We don’t want that.” Merry couldn’t tell, but Frodo was deathly afraid of those dogs. He had faced their fangs one too many times, but he was not willing to give up the mushrooms just because of a few dogs.

Merry’s boundless energy could barely be curbed. He bounced eagerly, but as quietly as a hobbit-lad could, on the balls of his feet. “Sure, Frodo! I’ll be quiet!” he squeaked out in a whisper.

Frodo nodded in approval. Merry gripped Frodo’s hand tighter as they sneaked underneath a fence. Merry wanted to climb over it to test his courage against his fear of heights, but Frodo would not let him. “No, that would make you too high; Farmer Maggot might see you!”

“Oh. Sorry Frodo.”

Frodo squeezed Merry’s hand to show there was no harm done. Carefully, oh so carefully, they crept forward. Just a little ways in front of them were the cornfields. Frodo led the way into one of the rows, avoiding the stalks so as not to make them sway as he passed. Merry, watching closely, noticed this and kept to the very middle of the row. Frodo kept a firm hand on Merry’s, willing the lad to stay quiet. He needn’t have worried. Merry was a silent as a mouse at midnight. Merry started to worry a little. He couldn’t see where they were going, and each corn stalk looked the same as the last. Did Frodo know where he was going?

Just as Merry’s fears nearly made him speak, Frodo led them out of the field and into and open space, flecked with rows upon rows of vegetables. Merry’s little eyes widened at the sight of the garden. Lettuce, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, asparagus, celery, tomatoes, and spinach. Just about everything any hobbit would love to eat. “Oh!” Merry whispered. “Oh, Frodo, look!”

Frodo nearly laughed at the lad’s reaction. “I know, Merry-lad. Why do you think I wanted to come here?”

“Oh,” was all Merry could say.

Frodo let Merry look for a moment longer, then he knelt before his young cousin. “Now, Merry. We have to be very, very careful, alright?”

“Why, Frodo? There’s no one here!”

“You see over there?” Frodo pointed past the sumptuous garden to a smial almost uncomfortably close to the garden. “That’s Farmer Maggot’s home. If he looks out one of the windows-“ and there were many windows facing the garden “-he might spot us and set the dogs on us. We don’t want that to happen.”

“Oh.” Merry thought for a moment. “No, that wouldn’t be fun, to have dogs chasing us, would it, Frodo?”

“No, not fun at all!” Frodo smiled. He took Merry’s hand again and led him towards the garden, watching the windows carefully and being as quiet as possible. Soon they were surrounded by Farmer Maggot’s prized vegetables. “What do you think we’ll need, Merry?”

Merry’s eyes were even wider now he was in the garden. “Oh, Frodo! Do you think we could have some tomatoes?”

“Of course!” Frodo said. They started gathering, whispering to each other careful of the windows. Merry’s arms were soon full of tomatoes and lettuce with carrots and cucumbers sticking out of his pockets. Frodo’s pockets were full of radishes, tomatoes and potatoes while his arms were filled with celery stalks and asparagus.

“Frodo! Frodo, look! Mushrooms!” Merry said excitedly.

Frodo smiled. “Good, lad! Pick some! We can have some for dinner!” He came over to where Merry was stuffing his arms with the delicious looking mushrooms. “Here, let me help.” Frodo started to help Merry harvest the mushrooms, taking his attention away from the smial.

“Hey! What you doin’?” came a very irate and loud voice from one of the smial’s windows. “Outta my garden, you!”

Frodo and Merry froze for a mere second at the sound of Farmer Maggot’s voice and the ensuing barking from his dogs.

“Run!” Frodo said breathlessly. He wasn’t about to tell Merry, but this was truly the fun part, escaping Farmer Maggot’s dogs by little more than inches. He and Merry were soon running through the corn stalks. Merry panicked for a moment, realizing he couldn’t see the end of the corn, but then he realized that if he just went straight, he wouldn’t get lost. He ran straight, Frodo right behind him. “Don’t stop, Merry! Just keep running, no matter what!”

Farmer Maggot’s yells and protests were growing louder by the second. Merry kept running, just like Frodo said. Keep running, he thought. Keep running. Keep running. The fence! He could see the fence, they were almost there. Almost- He flew through the fence, tumbling on the other side, and squashing his tomatoes, he was sure. “We made it, Frodo!” he squeaked, excited and frightened and happy all at once. No wonder the older lads thought this was fun! “That was close, wasn’t it, Frodo? Frodo? Frodo!”

Frodo was nowhere near Merry and could not hear his little cousin’s panicked yells. He was far more engrossed in the belt that Farmer Maggot was wielding. “This’ll be the last time I put up with this! Hope you understand me loud an’ clear, Mr. Baggins! Turn ‘round!”

Frodo, terrified, did as he was told and faced the fierce dogs who had been guarding him from behind. Knowing what was coming, Frodo squinted his eyes shut. He let out a terrified, pained yelp as the end of the belt found his rear. After a few more slashes with the belt, Farmer Maggot made Frodo stand close to the dogs. “See, lads,” he said to the dogs, “next time this young varmint sets foot on my land, you can eat him. Now see him off!” Giving Frodo a boot on his already sore rear, he set the lad flying as fast as he could to the borders of Farmer Maggot’s lands, the dogs yelping and nipping at his heals. As Frodo ran for dear life, he did not hear Farmer Maggot chuckling as he retrieved the scattered “groceries” he had divested of Frodo. “Will those lads never learn!” Farmer Maggot laughed as he watched as his obedient dogs escorted Frodo to the edge of the good farmer’s property, never harming the lad.

Frodo kept running. He wouldn’t stop, even when he heard the baying of the dogs fall away to the wind rushing in his ears. He just kept running. At least until he heard a frightened, surprised, “Frodo!” and bowled over a small someone in his path. “Frodo, Frodo, Frodo! I thought you’d gotten eaten!” Merry said, hugging his older cousin happily.

“I did,” Frodo said quietly, still wide eyed and frightened. Merry didn’t hear him.

Excitement and expectancy lit up the small hobbit-lad’s face as he looked up at Frodo, full of trust and happiness. “Oh, Frodo! When can we go back and do that again?”

Frodo simply shook his head and knew he’d never go back into Farmer Maggot’s garden for all the gold, silver, mithril, jewels and mushrooms in the world.