Disclaimer: I do not own them. If I did, I wouldn’t use them to right a story for you, I’d use them for my own naughty purposes. *evil grin*

Friends You Can Trust

Chapter Three: Take Them as was Willing
In which Frodo makes a plan, Pippin is brave, and Merry is unwittingly usurped.

“It is awfully expensive to keep up such a large hole as Bag End. And what do I need all this space for, Merry?” Frodo leaned forward in his arm chair by the fire and looked pleadingly at me. “Will you help?” I smiled at him, hiding the conflicting emotions that were running through me.

“Of course I will, cousin Frodo! Just tell me what you need.”

“I need you to magically make Bag End smaller and more manageable!” Frodo laughed, and I did with him. “A little hole in Buckland, maybe even a house, with a nice garden for Sam, that’s all. Do you think you can find it?”

“My dear Frodo, I will have a house for you by next week, if I am not... delayed at the Smials.” I said confidently.

“Meaning young Master Peregrin, I suppose,” Frodo’s eyes shone, but whether from mirth or tears I couldn’t tell.

“Yes indeed,” I tried to stifle a rather large yawn and put out my pipe.

“Oh, Merry-lad, I’ve kept you up too long!” Frodo glanced up at the clock and stood up. “And with you making an early start and all.”

“Never fear, Cousin,” I yawned again, “I am quite able to function on low amounts of sleep.” We paused before the door of my room. Frodo looked at me for a long time, as if he were memorizing my face, and then pulled me into a tight hug. The familiar Frodo-scent of basil and vanilla-sweet tobacco washed over me, and I felt like a little child for a moment. Then Frodo pulled back and headed to his room.

“Sleep tight, Merry-lad,” he called back. I entered my cozy room, got into bed, and put out the light. Frodo didn’t realize that I knew his plan. Sam had caught me before I reached Bag End the day before and told me everything. Frodo was going to move to Buckland, on the edge of the Shire, and then, when the time came, slip away without anyone noticing. An admirable plan, to be sure, but one that I was not going to let him get away with.

Though we had talked late, I got an early enough start in the morning that - with a steady walking pace combined with a few rides hitched on farmers’ carts - I made it to the Smials by suppertime. Pippin, of course, was the first to notice that I’d arrived.

“Merry! Merry!” he burst out the door, bowling over a few of his resident cousins as he ran towards me. He reached me and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I laughed and hugged him back.

“Careful, Pip, you’re going to crack my ribs!”

“Oh, sorry.” Pippin let go, and I clutched my side and groaned in mock pain. Pippin just rolled his eyes and lightly smacked my arm. “Don’t be silly, Merry, I didn’t hurt you.” He grinned at me. “And you’re just in time for supper! Mum baked three apple pies this afternoon, and they smell wonderful!”

“Well, lead on, then!” I winked. My aunt made some of the best apple pies in the four farthings of the Shire, and Pippin and I were notorious for wheedling entire pies out of her for just the two of us to share. It looked to be a good evening.

“I thought you said she only baked three.” I commented lightly as Pippin and I took our bounty outside to eat in the cool evening. Apparently, Aunt Elgantine knew I would be stopping by, and had made two extra pies that she gave to us as soon as supper was over. And, Pippin being a tweenager and myself just recently having come of age, we figured there was enough stomach between us to hold the pies, some tarts (pilfered from under Aunt Tina’s nose), and some ale from the cellar.

“Well, I thought she only baked three. That’s how many I saw.” Pippin shrugged. “Now, Merry, tell me what Frodo had to say!” I raised my eyebrows and took a slow bite of the pie, savoring the cinnamon and buttery crust. “Merry!” Pippin pouted rather crossly, and I swallowed quickly.

“Fine, Pip, hold on to your britches!” I took a swig of my ale and sat back. “Well, Frodo’s looking to move back to Buckland, it seems, and wants me on the lookout for a place for him and Sam to settle down in.” Pippin blinked in surprise.

“You mean he’s goin’ to sell Bag End?” I nodded and took a bite of raspberry tart. “But...but... why?”

“Well,” I pulled my pipe out and lit it, “Frodo says that it’s too expensive to keep up that large of a hole for a single Hobbit.”

“But he’s got plenty of money.” Pippin laughed. “Surely he doesn’t expect us to believe that he’s run out?”

“That’s what he wants everyone to think, I’d wager.”

“So, then, he’s really selling it because...” Pippin looked at me curiously.

“According to Sam, Frodo wants a place in Buckland because it’s on the edge of the Shire, and since he has relations there, it wouldn’t seem out-of-place if he decided to move there.” I leaned towards Pippin. “He’s going to try to sneak out of the Shire, without anyone noticing.” Pippin laughed.

“Oh, that’s just rich!” he said breathlessly. “Does he think any sensible Hobbit wouldn’t notice an empty house that’s supposed to be lived in?” I smiled.

“That’s where we come in. He obviously hasn’t thought about that. I think you should stay in the house for awhile after we leave and keep up the pretense that Frodo’s still there as long as you can.” Pippin fell silent and gave me a disbelieving look. “What?” I asked, confused.

“Merry,” he said quietly, “I’m going with you.” I was taken aback, and it took me a minute to respond.

“Pip, I will not, under any circumstances, let you come.” I said authoritatively. “It’s far too dangerous, and you’re not even of age!” Pippin’s eyes glinted with determination.

“I am going.” He said. “Whether you will let me or not. If you try to leave me behind I will follow you, the only way to get rid of me would be to lock me up until you get back.” he bit his lip and looked at me seriously.

“But, dearest, it will be so dangerous...” I tried to find some excuse, some reason for Pippin not to come.

“I love Frodo just as much as you.” he said calmly. “And I understand the danger just as much as you. And I have as much right as you to make the decision to go with him. I am scared, but I’m going.”

“But...who will stay at the house?” I asked hopefully. It was my last attempt, and I felt sure it would fail, but who ever said that Brandybucks won’t try last-ditch efforts? Pippin grinned.

“I think we can find a good friend of Frodo’s who wouldn’t be even the slightest bit inclined to leave with him.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

“Surely you don’t mean Freddie?”

“Yes,” Pippin nodded. “Freddie.” I sighed in resignation. Somehow, however unwittingly and unwillingly, I had been usurped, and Pippin had taken charge.

“Well, I suppose he would work well enough, if he didn’t get nervous and tip Frodo off that we know.” I chuckled, and Pippin smiled widely.

“Freddie? Get nervous?” he asked. “Oh, heaven forbid!” And with that we both burst into peals of laughter that carried over the hill with the breeze.

((Many many MANY thanks to my dear Willow for putting up with my griping over this chapter. It was a long time coming, and a painful process, but finally here it is! I could not have done it without her support and insane IM sessions, however little they had to do with this project. *wink* Through them, I found that A) you can be creative if you have to be, especially if B) you have a down-right insane friend; and that C) I play a boy rather well, which helped this chapter come! Thank you Wil!))