Here's my birthday fic for all of you to enjoy: a bit of Young!Frodo and Wee!Merry fluff. Sorry for its late-in-the-day appearance.

(Author's Notes: This story takes place right after the flashback events described in "Dear Frodo..." during the summer of the first year in which Frodo has gone to live in Bag End. (Frodo is 20 and Merry is 7, the hobbit equivalent of human children 13 and 5½).

A Golden Summer's Day

"Merry?" Frodo walked over to his small cousin, who was gazing out through the little round window of his guest room. "Is something wrong?" Merry had been growing unaccountably quieter and quieter ever since supper.

Merry bit his lip, and turned into Frodo's comforting arms. "I don't really like it here at the Great Smials, Frodo."

Frodo nodded, and sat down in the windowseat and drew Merry into his lap. At seven, Merry was beginning to get almost too big for that. "I don't much like it here either, sprout. But it is a good chance for us to see one another again! And wasn't the bonfire lovely, and the music and dancing and the Litheday feast?"

Merry nodded. "Yes. But I don't like her!"

Frodo had no need to ask who Merry meant. There was only one "her" referred to in that particular tone of voice at the Great Smials. Lalia the Fat-- or "Lalia the Great" to those who did not wish to offend. "I am sorry to say, I don't much like her either."

"She makes Mummy and Uncle Paladin sad and angry. She says things to them and I don't think the things mean the same as what she says, and she laughs and it doesn't sound funny. And it makes Da angry, too."

He drew back and looked in Frodo's face. "And what she was saying at supper made you sad and angry, too! I know she was saying things about your Mum and Da!"

"Yes, well Uncle Bilbo made her stop," Frodo said proudly. He had no idea what his Uncle Bilbo's reference was about a "dwarf dagger" and "tongues that speak too quickly", but it had made Lalia turn quite pale, and she had excused herself coldly, saying she was tired and needed her rest.

Merry heaved a sigh. "I don't want to stay here."

"Your Mum and your Uncle Paladin have to stay. There is Took family business for them to attend to tomorrow. We will all leave the next day, and go to Bag End for you all to visit a few days before you have to go home to Buckland."

"Frodo, I wish you could come back home, too."

"Merry..." there was a stern, if sorrowful, note in Frodo's voice.

"I'm sorry, Frodo. I know. Bag End is your home now." He yawned and snuggled in more closely. Frodo rocked him a bit, and smoothed his curls, and when his little cousin was softly snoring, he carried him over and tucked him in. It was unlikely Merry would try to sneak into his bed later-- the rooms in which he and Bilbo were staying were off a different corridor, in another guest apartment altogether.

Poor Merry! This was the first visit to the Great Smials in which he was old enough to notice the unpleasant atmosphere here. Tomorrow would be a long day. Perhaps he could think of some way they could occupy themselves away from all the gossip and from Lalia's uncomfortable gaze.

Uncle Bilbo and Aunt Esmeralda were quite pleased with his idea, when he presented it to them the next morning. Aunt Esme even accompanied them to the big kitchen where she supervised the packing of a goodly sized picnic hamper, and another of a smaller size. Aunt Esme planted a kiss on Frodo's brow, and whispered "This is very thoughtful of you, Frodo! There is plenty of food to keep the both of you out until teatime! It will make me much happier today to know that Merry is in your good hands for a few hours." Frodo blushed at her praise, but the truth was it would be just as much fun for him as for Merry.

Frodo led Merry out, as he carried the larger hamper, and Merry the smaller one. The day was very warm-- it was, after all the first of Afterlithe. He thought briefly of leading Merry up to one of his favourite places to get away from folk at the Great Smials--up on the grassy meadow of the roof, with no one else there save the grazing sheep, and nothing but daisies and chimneypots to break up the scenery. Although he could not take Merry up by the steep climb by the terrace, there was a gentle slope to the west up which they could go. But the heat made him reconsider; while it would be a wonderful place to picnic, and for Merry to run and play, there was not a bit of shade up there--not even a single rooftree, like the one at Bag End.

Instead, Frodo led Merry through the South Garden, and down beyond the field where the older children would probably come to play kick-the-ball later on. through a small copse of beeches and alders to a wide pond. Ducks swam placidly on the water, which was fed by a stream that had been partly diverted and dammed to provide a place where the Tooks could fish if they wished. Today, however, the place was completely deserted. They had not brought fishing poles, though Merry was actually an accomplished little angler for his age. But Frodo did not wish to worry about dealing with a catch today.

There they put their hampers down with care, and then quickly shed their clothes and raced into the water. It was refreshing, but not so cold as the Brandywine and far less treacherous, since it was not running water. Merry reached the water first, and leapt in with a resounding splash, though Frodo was only an instant behind. Soon they were splashing and playing, as Merry dived from Frodo's shoulders, or they swam down among the startled fishes ( who had never before seen a hobbit in the water with them and did not know what to make of these strange creatures) and sought for stones along the sandy bottom. All too soon, however, their stomachs informed them it was time for elevenses.

They dried quickly in the hot sun, and put their clothes back on before examining the contents of the small hamper: there were bottles of ginger beer, and thick sandwiches of sharp cheese and spicy mustard, and a bowl of strawberries. And in a couple of twists of paper were two toffees.

After they had eaten, they spent some time at the shore, feeding a few crusts of bread they had saved a-purpose to the ducks, who had only just returned to the water after being frightened off by their sport. Merry was amused by the ducks, and the two of them made up names for them.

"I think that one over there should be named Waddles," said Merry. "See how she walks?"

Frodo chuckled. "They all waddle, Merry!"

"Yes," said Merry, "but she waddles even more."

"Well," said Frodo, "I think that particularly scruffy looking drake over there should be named...Lotho!"

Merry's jaw dropped, and then he giggled. "Frodo! You are not supposed to say things like that."

"Says who?"

"Well-- the grown-ups."

Frodo leaned down conspiratorially and whispered "Do you see any grown-ups?"

This set Merry off into gales of laughter, which only intensified when Frodo attacked him with tickling fingers. Merry, however, knew his cousin all too well, and tickled back fiercely in just the right spots to render Frodo helpless with laughter. After a while, they both collapsed back in the grass to catch their breath. Frodo would have been content just to stay there for a while, but soon Merry was up and exploring the edge of the pond, and picking up small pebbles. "Frodo! Do you want to play Stones?" he called.

Frodo smiled and sat up. "Stones" was a nice quiet pastime, and Merry was very fond of it. He was improving very quickly for a small lad. They sat there at the edge of the pond for a while, tossing their stones up in the air and catching them on the backs of their hands. Frodo kept score with a stick in the dirt.

Merry became cross, however, when he managed to drop several, and flung them into the pond, disturbing the ducks, who scattered, quacking. "Merry!" said Frodo with a frown.

"Sorry." Merry hung his head. He did not like it when he did poorly at a game.

"I've an idea, sprout! Would you like to learn to skip stones? We'll need some nice flattish ones."

Merry was thrilled at this new game, and Frodo was quite amused to watch him concentrate: holding his breath, his little tongue sticking out one corner of his mouth, and his little body tense with raptness. In fact, Merry was so engrossed with the new game he did not even notice his own tummy rumbling.

"Merry! Let's have some luncheon!" This broke the spell, and the two of them sat down to dive into the larger hamper. There were mushroom pasties, and pickles and more bread and cheese and more ginger beer and a couple of pears and cherry tarts. This time the two of them ate every last crumb. When they had finished, they waded in the shallows of the pond; Merry suggested another swim, but Frodo reminded him that they had only just eaten. The sun was high and hot, so they decided to ramble in the woods. Frodo would have gladly climbed up into the shady branches of the trees, but he had learned by now that Merry had no head for heights. Instead, they explored for a while, pretending that they were in the dark forest of Mirkwood. Merry picked up a stick, pretending it was Sting, and slashing away at "spiders". But they spotted a bounty of wild mushrooms growing near the stump of a fallen tree, and their game was forgotten, as they gathered them greedily.

After a while they had gone the whole way round the pond, and come back to where they had begun. They sat down in the shade, and nibbled a bit on the mushrooms, though they were still sated from their nuncheon. Merry leaned into Frodo's side, and Frodo put an arm around him. "Tell me a story, Frodo," he asked.

Frodo smiled, and leaned against the trunk of the tree. "Once upon a time there were two little hobbits named Tip and Tulip. They were brother and sister, and lived in a cosy little smial with their mama and their papa and their Aunty. One day, their Aunty asked them to feed the ducks. They took some grain in a pail and went down to the duck pond, and began to scatter the grain. The ducks came eagerly to gobble up the grain. Imagine their surprise when one of the ducks suddenly spoke, and said 'Thank you very much!'

For a moment, the two little hobbits could not say anything for their surprise, but then finally Tip said, 'Pardon me, but I did not know ducks could talk.'

The duck raised her beak proudly. 'Of course we can. We talk among ourselves all the time. But only I can speak to hobbits. I am the Queen of the Ducks and my name is Matilda Whitefeathers.'

'Oh,' said Tulip. "you are a most magnificent and beautiful duck!'

'I would like to reward you for your feeding of us,' said the Queen. 'Would you like to go for a ride?' And she flapped out her wings, and as she flapped she grew a deal bigger--just big enough that Tip and Tulip could ride upon her back.

'That sounds like fun!' said Tip.

Tulip was not so sure, but she nodded, and they clambered upon her back. She flapped her wings, and rose a little above the ground--but not too far, for she was a wise duck, and knew that hobbit-children would not like to go up so high. Tip gave a squeak of fear, but Tulip was surprised to discover that she did not mind it so very much at all. In fact, she thought it was fun. Then Queen Matilda glided down to land upon the pond, and sailed along like a boat. Tip thought this was wonderful, but Tulip looked down at the water, so close to her toes, and shuddered. Still, she did not say she was afraid, but held tightly onto her brother. After a while, the duck swam up to the bank of the pond, and the two stepped off.

When they turned to thank her, though, they saw she was no bigger than at first, and when they said, 'Thank you, Queen Matilda,' she merely looked at them with a puzzled quack.

When they got home for tea, they told their mama and papa all about it. Their papa laughed and their mama patted their heads and said 'Such fanciful stories!'

But their Aunty smiled at them and winked, and said 'I am glad you had a good time with Queen Matilda.'

Frodo looked down at Merry, who was dozing off, and leaned back against the tree, and thought his own thoughts as Merry drifted off to sleep.

He must have dozed off himself, for the next thing he heard was the voice of Uncle Saradoc calling from a distance: "Frodo! Merry! It's nearly teatime"

He shook Merry awake, and stood up, brushing leaf and mould from his breeches. "We're by the pond!" he called, and in only a moment he saw Uncle Sara and Uncle Bilbo coming through the trees.

Uncle Bilbo helped Frodo carry the empty hampers, while Uncle Sara carried Merry, and they made their way back up to the Great Smials and their tea.

'Da,' Merry was saying, 'we fed the ducks! And Frodo taught me to skip stones, and...'