Written for Anso, in answer to the drabble challenge on LJ:

SEVEN ( GOING ON THIRTY-NINE )

The small figure slowly padded into the dim passage, and pushed open the door, which screeched mournfully. The moonlight from the room behind streamed into the windowless space, casting a shadowy silver glow over the bed, stripped bare, the furniture, empty, its inhabitant clearly gone for good.

Walking across the bare floor, putting his hand on the mattress with a sigh, he crawled to the middle of the bed, curled up, and gave way to tears.

Esmeralda found him there. “Merry? Come back to your bed. Frodo is at Bag End.”

“I miss him, mum.”

“I know you do, love.”