Disclaimer: Sadly, Sam is not mine. *sigh* Neither is anything else. It belongs to the Professor, I’m just borrowing.

Friends You can Trust

Chapter Two: Here’s Our Collector of Information
In which Sam is uncertain, Merry already knows something, and Pippin's eyes gleam.

It didn’t feel quite right to tell Mr. Merry about Mr. Frodo’s ring. But I had promised to tell him if Frodo looked like he was going to leave. Never mind that I was leaving too. I would have gone even if Mr. Gandalf hadn’t told me to. I wrote Mr. Merry’s letter right after I found out, and meant to send it right away, but something always stopped me. But finally, I did send it, and it made me feel worse than ever.

“You’re a fool and a ninnyhammer, Samwise Gamgee,” I told myself as I started another beer at the Ivy. “‘Naught good’ll come of it’, the Gaffer’d say if he knew.”

“Oh, Sam, I hardly think that’s fair!” A laugh came from behind me. I twisted ‘round in a hurry, and nearly spilled my mug. Mr. Merry was there, a smile on his face, and young Master Pippin next to him. It hardly surprised me that Pippin was there. He had a way of findin’ out about things, and Mr. Merry could rarely refuse the younger lad.

“H-hullo, Mr. Merry,” I stammered. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Mr. Merry’s smile faltered a bit.

“Well, you can’t say that you didn’t expect to see me at all. What’s going on with Frodo?” I sighed, and motioned them over to a small booth in the far corner of the room. When they had their mugs and were sitting down, I spoke.

“Now mind,” I began, “I don’t rightly understand lots of it, and it’s a wrench to go behind Mr. Frodo’s back, but you’re his friends and he can’t do this by himself.” Pippin cocked his head.

“You’re going to have to explain yourself better than that, Sam.”

“Well, see, it all has to do with Mr. Bilbo’s ring.”

“The one that he got on his adventures?” Mr. Merry asked. “The one that turns people invisible?”

“Aye, that’s the one,” I wondered how he knew about it, and seemingly Pippin did, too.

“How did you know, Merry?” Pippin raised an eyebrow. Merry flushed a little.

“I saw Bilbo use it once. We were both walking down the road at Bywater—though I was a ways behind and he didn’t see me—and the Sackville- Bagginses turned up coming the other way. Bilbo just...disappeared all the sudden. I got suspicious, so I poked around after and got a glance at his book,” Merry shrugged, “And there you are. Anyway, Sam, continue.”

So I began. I told them everything I had overheard and learned from Mr. Gandalf since April. About the Dark Lord, and the battle, and Isildur, and Gollum. Even with my short re-telling, over an hour had passed when I finished.

“Now Mr. Frodo’s planning to leave the Shire, and me with him, to take the Ring away.” Pippin and Mr. Merry were quiet for a few minutes, their mugs unnoticed in their hands.

“But...where will you go?” Pippin finally asked, a child-like worry in his eyes. A worry that I certainly felt. I shrugged.

“Rivendell, Mr. Gandalf said.  Where Elves live.” I couldn't help but be excited about the prospect of seeing Elves, but my worries overcame my joy once again.  "But it's a fair long journey, so it seems, and through places where no one lives."

"Very well, then,” Mr. Merry nodded decisively. “Very well. Sam, you must keep me informed. When you know when you’re leaving, send word and I will come with you,” I noticed an odd light come into Pippin’s eyes, but he kept quiet. Mr. Merry’s face softened, and he smiled a bit. “I cannot let my dear cousin go off into the Wild with only you, however stout-hearted you may be.” I flushed to the tips of my ears at that.

“Well, no, Mr. Merry, I don’t know about stout-hearted. But I’d never be so cowardly as to let Mr. Frodo go into danger alone. I’ll be right glad to have you, though, if you follow me.” Mr. Merry laughed.

“I do indeed. Now off with you! We’ve kept you far later than we meant to.” So I stood off and, taking my leave, left for home. The stars seemed brighter than they had the past few weeks, and I felt lighter, somehow. But still, there was a twinge of guilt that I had told what Mr. Frodo had trusted me to keep secret, never mind that it was for his own good. As I closed the gate to the garden behind me, I silently wondered why, of all the Hobbits in the wide world, it had to be me.

((Huge thanks to Wil and Mirrie for encouraging me and pointing out certain things...like that Sam usually calls himself Samwise Gamgee when giving himself some of “the Gaffer’s hard names”. And if you would like a definitive explanation of why Sam doesn’t say “Mr. Pippin”, e-mail me: Rosie@councilofelrond.net))