Part Two

Liddia walked quietly next to the stranger-lad who offered to carry the bulky box to the burn site. His curling light brown hair wafting in the breeze made her smile. “What is your name, boy?” she asked him.

Merry was in his own little world, gawking at the artistic details of the mountainous architecture that seemed to stand a mile high in comparison to his small stature.

“Helloooo!” Liddia giggled, waving her hand in front of the boy’s eyes. She noticed they were bright blue saucers that twinkled when he smiled back at her.

“Sorry,” replied Merry, smiling. He shifted the box in his arms, then responded, “My name is Merry--and yours is Liddia?”

The girl smiled, “Yes, how did you know?”

“Your grandmother said that you were busy cleaning indoors today--and that my cousin and I couldn’t play with you,” said Merry with a wink.

The jesting wink went over Liddia’s head; the lass didn’t realize she was talking to a grown hobbit just out of his tweens, though they were relatively the same height. She asked him, “Where is your mother and father?”

Liddia’s question threw Merry off for a second. “My parents?” he asked. “I suppose they’re back in Buckland celebrating in the spring fairs. I haven’t seen them since last September.”

“How terrible!” exclaimed the girl, “I cannot imagine not seeing mine for such a long time. I have never heard of Buckland--where is it?”

Merry looked wistfully towards the north, “Far away.” He sighed deeply remembering his mum sitting in her chair by the fireplace reading her favourite book. He then elaborated, “Far away in the north; a province of the Shire.”

There seemed to be too many new places and names for young Liddia to remember, so she took the conversation to another subject. “Why did you knock on my grandmother’s door?”

Merry explained his and Pippin’s assignment for that day. As he spoke, Liddia was thoroughly charmed by this boy’s thoughtful demeanour, his face, his hair--all very captivating for a young eleven-year-old girl. After they dropped off the box of refuse, they immediately started back to her grandmother’s house. Along the way, she pulled Merry to a shop window. “Look! He’s making pastries!”

The sight of food made Merry’s stomach growl. Since returning to the city, he and Pippin were once again eating meals at the normal hobbit times, however, they missed elevenses in their haste to arrive at the house on time. Embarrassed, he put his hand to his tummy asking, “You didn’t hear that, did you?” He stood on his toes looking through the windowpane, “I’ve never seen pastries made like that before--what’s sort of dough is he folding inside the pan?”

“Let us go and look,” Liddia laughed. Taking him by the hand, she led him through the door of the Confectioner’s bakeshop. “Hello, Master Pelarmir!” she greeted the baker. “I have a new friend who has never seen nor tasted Honey-nut pastries before.”

“Never??” asked Pelarmir in mock surprise, humouring the young lad standing on the other side of the counter.

“No, sir,” answered Merry, watching the food-artisan at work. His mouth began to water when he sniffed in the scent of more pastry baking in the ovens.

“Well, then, laddie, I have just the cure for that ailment!” Always willing to entertain children, Pelarmir invited the pair inside, taking them over to his baking table. “Come and see how this special pastry is made!”

Merry wasn’t too keen on Liddia and the baker referring to him as ‘boy’ or ‘laddie’, though Merry decided to hold off on correcting everyone on that issue--at least until he got a taste of the baker’s confection.

Pelarmir explained every step to the “children” as he performed the task. Merry watched in fascination as the baker folded layer upon layer of a paper-thin dough into a baking pan. The baker took two spoons, scooped up a bit of mixture from inside a bowl then handed a spoon to each “child”. Merry swirled it around inside his mouth before deciding he tasted honey, cinnamon, cloves, and lots of chopped walnuts.

Next, the baker brushed the thin dough with melted butter, then evenly spread a portion of the nutty mixture throughout the pan before adding more alternate layers of the thin dough. The baker repeated this effort several times more until he was finished. Then the master baker shoved the pan inside an empty oven to bake. After that, he led the children over to the cooling racks. Pelarmir took a pan of a syrupy concoction, carefully pouring it over a pan of pastry that had recently come out of an oven. He then sliced off a bit of the delicacy for the youngsters to sample, grinning as he waited for Merry’s response. He had yet to witness someone not liking his confection.

Wide-eyed and smiling like the boy that they thought he was, Merry took the offered piece of Honey-nut pastry. They watched in amusement as he sniffed it first, then bit off a tiny corner. His countenance went from curious…to elated. He devoured the rest of his pastry then smacked his lips together as he licked them and his fingers clean.

“That was delicious--and so sweet!” he said, complimenting the Confectioner. “Thank you.”

“Come along now,” Liddia playfully tugged on Merry’s shirtsleeve, “my grandmother will have luncheon on the table when we get back. We do not want to spoil our appetites.”