Deeper Than the Darkness

***

Part 3: Visit to Hobbiton

As the cart rolled down the hill towards Bywater, Merry was struck by just how different the view was from the stark landscape that had greeted them the previous November. Spring was coming to Hobbiton, but more than that, the folk had cleaned the place up. There were bare patches of earth, but no piles of refuse or abandoned wood. The buildings all looked lived in, and he noticed that some of the new ones were missing. He sighed. The Shire was going to make it. It would take something worse than Sharkey to defeat even the simplest of hobbits. The thought was comforting, in a way.

His reverie was broken by Pippin, who was driving the other cart. "Merry, should we take all this stuff straight to Bag End," he called, "or stop at Cotton’s farm first?"

"Go to the Cotton’s," Merry called back to Pippin. "We’ll have to keep the ponies there anyway, and I want to talk to Frodo before we take anything up to Bag End."

They turned down the lane to the Cotton’s farm, and Merry was surprised by how many young trees dotted the landscape. Sam certainly had been busy. The Cotton’s farm was bustling. There were chickens in the yard, and several children running around the house. Merry began to unhitch his pony, when Nibs came out of the barn.

Nibs waved vigorously to them, and shouted back over his shoulder: "It’s Meriadoc Brandybuck and Pippin Took! They’ve brought Mr. Frodo’s belongings along, seemingly." Then he ran over to greet them. "Good to see you! Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin." He nodded at each of them. "Let me take care of these ponies for you. I’m sure you’ll be wanting something to drink after your long ride. You can just go right in the house. Mother will be glad to see you." He paused, and since they didn’t immediately turn away, he continued, "Will you mind if I leave these carts out here, or did you want them put away in the barn?"

"Oh, you can certainly leave them there for now, so long as they aren’t in your way," Merry replied. "We’ll have to talk to Frodo first, but I don’t imagine we’ll leave them there very long. Is Frodo inside?"

"Oh, aye, he should be in the house," said Nibs.

Pippin and Merry walked across the yard to the old farmhouse. But before they could knock, the round door was flung open, and there was Frodo. He smiled as he embraced them, but Merry thought he was rather pale. The winter has not treated him well. No wonder he didn’t travel with Sam, thought Merry. He said nothing, and allowed himself to be ushered into the Cotton’s home. Mrs. Cotton was glad to see them, and greeted them enthusiastically. "Rose, please show them the wash room so they can have a chance to freshen up a bit." She immediately set herself to bustling about the kitchen.

When Merry and Pippin returned, faces washed and hands clean, they found Frodo seated at the table with an assortment of cakes and tarts in front of him. A large pitcher of water and several glasses were also set. Frodo gestured for them to take a seat, saying "I can’t eat all of these myself, you know." He wanted to hear all about their escapades, so they told him about their visit at Tuckborough "on the way" to Hobbiton.

"So, you practically ride past my door, and then turn right around to go back to Buckland to get my things?" said Frodo, laughing. "And here I have been telling people that you manage things well!"

"Well, it isn’t our fault that Bag End wasn’t ready yet," answered Pippin. "We thought it would be more convenient for you to write to us at Great Smials, so we could fetch your things when you said the word. And we used Bywater carts, which are easily returned at your convenience." He turned to Merry. "You see, cousin, this is what we get for being prepared. I don’t think that the Bagginses properly understand planning, do you?"

"Of course not. Though Pippin, you have to admit, he never did ask us to take a tour of the Shire," Merry answered. "His belongings weren’t scattered everywhere. They aren’t trees, you know."

It was almost like old times, the three of them sitting around a kitchen table, laughing and eating. Almost. Merry’s glance strayed to Frodo’s right hand, and then he quickly averted his eyes. It wouldn’t do to have Frodo suspect he was watching him. The friendly banter continued until Farmer Cotton came in to greet his guests. He greeted them heartily, and told them they were welcome to stay at his house for as long as they wished.

"My lads will be more than willing to help you with the moving. I know it can be a bit daunting unpacking a smial! Many hands make light work, I always say. It’s a shame Sam Gamgee isn’t back yet. I’m sure he would have been happy to help as well."

Pippin looked up in surprise. "You mean, he’s still traveling around looking after his trees?"

"Don’t worry, Pip," Frodo interrupted. "He wrote to me from Elmstead and said he’s almost finished. He should be back in a day or so. You won’t miss him this time."

"We didn’t miss him at Stock, either, don’t worry," Merry said. Then they proceeded to tell Frodo about their visit with Sam. "It really is quite the undertaking," finished Pippin.

"Well, would you two like to see Bag End?" Frodo asked. "We can go up there now, and still make it back in time for supper."

"Of course," smiled Pippin. Merry hesitated a moment, but then nodded. He wanted to have a word with Mrs. Cotton, but he did not want to arouse Frodo’s suspicions, either.

As they crossed the bridge into Hobbiton, Merry’s gaze was naturally drawn to the top of the Hill. From here, Bag End looked nearly the same as always. The Party Tree was missing of course, he realized. As they got closer, he noticed more of the details. Bagshot Row was gone as well, though he had remembered that from his last visit. Bag End itself had its windows restored, though they were slightly different. No shutters, he realized. The door was repaired, and freshly painted too.

Frodo turned to his cousins: "Would youlike a tour?" he asked. He then opened the door, and bowed slowly as they entered. "We’ve put pegs up in the hall, but no umbrella stand. So, of course, Lobelia won’t be able to visit quite yet."

Pippin laughed. "Why, has she been asking you when she can?"

Frodo smiled. "No, actually. I wrote to her that the work on Bag End was completed shortly after I wrote to you. I knew she would hear about it anyway, and she was gracious enough to return it to me. But, she hasn’t written back. So, I’m not sure what that means. I hope it’s just that she is still in mourning for Lotho and it isn’t the beginning of another plot."

"Wait…do you mean to tell us that you actually invited Lobelia to visit Bag End?" Merry looked shocked.

"Yes, I did," Frodo replied, somewhat defiantly. "Don’t look at me like that! You are forgetting that the only reason I have Bag End now is because she gave it back to me. Really, it should be hers."

Merry just shook his head. "No, cousin, I was not forgetting that at all. But I have also not forgotten what Lobelia has been like every other time she has visited Bag End. I think you are going soft. Pippin, what do you think?" They had reached the kitchen, and were standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room.

"That both of you are being quite ridiculous," Pippin grinned. "Frodo, you are very brave or very foolish to invite Lobelia to see this place before the paint is dry or your things moved into it. Probably both. But since she doesn’t seem interested, I really don’t think there is any cause to get all worked up about it, Merry. Maybe she has gone soft in her old age, as hard as that would be to believe."

Frodo showed them the bedrooms, which had been furnished with bed frames, and thin straw mattresses. "There is one thing I do regret," he mused. "I wish I had not sold my feather-beds."

"I agree," said Pippin. "You should have taken them with you."

"To Crickhollow?" asked Frodo.

"No, to Mordor," shot back Pippin.

Frodo laughed, but the color had drained from his face. Merry gave Pippin a jab in the ribs, and when Pippin looked up, he glared at him. Pippin must have understood, because he seemed rather subdued for the remainder of the visit. The rest of the smial looked like it was in fairly good order, though it seemed quite spacious and bare. Merry and Pippin agreed that it looked like it was ready for the furniture.

After supper at the Cotton's that evening, Frodo excused himself early. When Pippin protested, he merely waved it off. "I’m not as young as you, Peregrin Took, and if I’m to help with the moving tomorrow, I need some rest. Once the work is done, I’ll stay up as late as you like. Just don’t look for me the next morning! A good night, everyone!" he waved, and was gone.

Pippin took out his pipe, and was soon in the midst of a conversation with Jolly about the proper time to begin planting. Merry saw his chance, and slipped into the kitchen, where Rosie and Mrs. Cotton were washing up the dishes. He wasn’t quite sure how to bring this up, so he decided to be forthright.

"Mrs. Cotton, I need to ask you something."

She seemed surprised, but merely nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Has Frodo been…well lately?"

"That certainly didn’t take long, Mr. Merry," she replied. "To be honest, no, he hasn’t. He seems to be on the mend, though, so I’m hoping the warmer weather will suit him. He’s been a bit off this past month, if I might make so bold, and I won’t say but what he’s had us a bit worried, now and again, but now, he seems to be on the mend, as I said. What do you think, Rose?"

"Yes, Mum. These past few days, he’s seemed well enough, just a bit subdued, is all. Not like earlier, when he had a touch of fever."

Merry thought about this for a moment. "So, you think he’s alright now?"

"Mr. Merry, if you are worried about him moving now, you needn’t be. That Sam Gamgee will be in and out of there every day, mark my words. He’ll be taken care of proper."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cotton, I’m much obliged for all you’ve done to care for him." Before she could protest, Merry returned to Pippin. When he entered the room, Pippin looked up sharply, and Jolly shut his mouth quickly. But the conversation soon resumed, and Merry found an opportunity to bring up the weather.

"Do you think there’s any chance of rain tonight?"

"I reckon not," said Jolly, chuckling. "It’s as clear as clear, and still, too. But why do you ask?"

"Well, it probably wouldn’t be good to leave Frodo’s things out in the rain, even though the carts are covered," said Merry. "But I didn’t think it really looked like rain myself."

"If it would make you rest easier, I’d be glad to move the carts into the shed," replied Jolly. "It would be no problem, really."

"No need, really," Merry replied. "If Frodo’s things have survived a year of neglect and a few months of being minded by Pippin and me, they can survive one night in the weather."

"I’ll be off to bed myself, then, if you two don’t mind," Jolly finished. "Is there anything you gentlehobbits will be needing?"

"No, nothing, thank you," said Pippin. "Nibs already showed us our room. We’ll be fine."

"Goodnight," said Merry. "We’ll see you in the morning."

After he left, Merry turned to Pippin. "So, what were you two discussing when I came back?"

"Whatever are you talking about?" Pippin asked, trying his best to look puzzled, but Merry was not fooled.

"Come now, Pippin, I have known you too long for that. Out with it."

"If you must know, I wanted to ask Jolly how Frodo was while you and he weren’t around. But it seems I could have brought it up openly, if you are just going to pry it out of me anyway."

Merry tried to keep a straight face. "And?"

Pippin looked at his toes and said, "Jolly says he’s been sick, but he’s mending."

Merry laughed, and Pippin seemed startled. "My dear Pippin, will you believe that I slipped out to ask Mrs. Cotton the same question?" Merry asked.

"For all your teasing, we do think alike, then," was all Pippin said.

"Well then, let’s get some rest," said Merry, standing up. "It seems that we will have to resign ourselves to doing the heavy lifting if we are to contrive to have Frodo merely direct operations."

"Ever the conspirator, aren’t you?" said Pippin with a smile.

***

The next day was bright and clear. Jolly seemed to have understood the weather, at least this time. True to their father’s word, the Cotton boys helped unload Frodo’s things, so that the carts were empty and Bag Endwas in disarray in no time. The Cottons returned to their farm in Bywater and left Frodo, Merry and Pippin the task of organizing. But before they left, they promised to send over a proper meal in the afternoon, because "you can’t work without vi’tuals," said Nibs solemnly.

It was almost eerie to be putting the old smial back together, Merry thought. So many of these things he had gotten used to seeing in Crickhollow, but when they were returned to their original place, they stirred up old memories. This was where these things belonged. Bag End was their home. He was reminded of visiting Bilbo when he was a lad, wandering around the quiet smial by himself and looking at all the strange mathoms while the adults talked. And then later, visiting Frodo for grand parties, or just staying up late by the fire, talking about all of their plans. He sighed, and looked around again. It was not quite the same. Some things were missing, and not all of the damage had been repaired. The door to the second pantry still needed to be replaced, he knew. But thankfully, there were few reminders of the dismal mess they had found on their return. "We certainly don’t need to think about that," he muttered to himself.

"Think about what?" asked Pippin, coming in the door and looking over his shoulder. "Are you just standing here thinking, or are you arranging this furniture?"

"A little of both," Merry admitted. "Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on Frodo? But while you are here, would you mind giving me a hand with this bureau? I don’t want to damage it."

They had about half of the rooms in some semblance of order before Nibs returned. "It’s looking good," he said approvingly. They were more than willing to take a break, and decided to eat outside, where there was less dust. It was still a bit cool, but the Hill shielded them from any vagrant breeze.

"Hobbiton really is looking itself again," Pippin remarked, as they looked down on the town. "Though it is a bit funny not to see Bagshot Row."

"Yes, the New Row is different, isn’t it?" Nibs remarked. "Though a good deal of work has gone into restoring everything! We were lucky to have everyone housed snugly before winter really set in. Though now that Bag End’s finished, I’d say we’re about done."

"Done?" Merry asked. "I think it will be a long time before all the scars are gone."

"True enough," Nibs replied. "Like enough, some things won’t never be the same."

"But scars and all, it is the Shire again," said Pippin. "I could not have abided to have things stay the way they were when we came home, but now, things really are the way they ought to be. Why, if Sam keeps on planting his trees, we won’t even be able to tell it was ever hurt, one of these days."

"And what will happen then, I wonder?" asked Frodo.

"We’ll just have to have an invasion of dragons to shake things up a bit," said Merry with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Nibs laughed, "Oh, I’m sure that would get people’s attention. Those fireworks of Gandalf’s sure did stir things up a bit, as you put it. Even now, people talk about the dragon the night old Bilbo Baggins disappeared."

"Do they really?" laughed Pippin.

When they had finished eating, Nibs left, after being assured that they didn’t need anything. The others went back inside and continued working. Early that evening, they were finished. Frodo’s belongings were back home, and wandering through the smial, it seemed almost like it always had.

"Why don’t we stay here tonight?" asked Pippin. "I’ll ride over to the Cottons and get anything we need."

"Yes, we should celebrate your return to your home," said Merry. "Luckily, Nibs brought enough to feed twice as many workers, so we have plenty of food. All we are missing is wine and pipeweed."

"I can’t help you with the wine, but I know I have enough pipeweed for us all," said Pippin. "So, is it a party, then?"

Frodo hesitated. "It would be nice to stay here tonight. I have missed this place. But all this work has left me tired. I don’t think I could manage a party."

"Well then, a celebratory meal, at least, and the first night back," Merry conceded.

"And you are forgetting, no feather mattresses," Frodo reminded him.

"We’ll get the blankets, and camp out in the den," said Pippin, not willing to be quenched.

"Fine!" Frodo laughed, throwing up his hands. "The two of you can camp out. I’ll sleep in my own bed, and just make do. But we can at least sit down to a meal before I fall asleep on my feet."
"Agreed," Merry replied.

"But I’m warning you," said Pippin with a smile, "I will get a party out of you yet, older cousin or no." Pippin was right, though he did have to wait a bit.

***

The next morning, Frodo slept late. Merry knocked softly on his door, but there was no response. So, he and Pippin rode over to the Cottons’ to collect Frodo’s things that had been left there. They told Mrs. Cotton that the move had gone well, and that the old hole looked respectable again. She seemed happy, but expressed her doubts that the menfolk had thought to clean anything.

"Don’t you worry," Merry laughed. "That is the order of business for today. We intend to air the place out and scrub it down from front to back. You can even send Miss Rose over to inspect it, if you don’t trust us."

She just shook her head, "You can do what you like, backwards or no. Just so long as the place ends up clean."

On the way back to Bag End, they stopped and bought some food to stock the bare pantries, and placed orders for some odds and ends they knew would be wanted soon enough. When they returned, they found Frodo up and about. Merry was amazed by how much better he looked. One night in his own home really had done wonders for him, it seemed. They cleaned the kitchen as the first order of business, and were able to cook up a noonday meal. After luncheon, they moved from room to room mopping and dusting, opening windows and letting in the light and air. It was a great deal of work, but it did enliven the place. Pippin, in particular, seemed to enjoy darting about, slopping water everywhere, and occasionally singing loudly. While he was finishing up in the study, Merry remembered that Frodo had had a collection of books and papers at the Cottons. So, he went out in the hall to fetch that packet and return it to its proper place. He intended to leave the entire stack on the desk for Frodo to sort through later, but as he unpacked it, a single leaf of paper fluttered to the ground. It had been tucked away in between the letters and a book. He bent down to pick it up, and realized that it was a poem, in Frodo’s handwriting:

I will go seek my love

and take upon myself

her weariness and labors

in which she suffers so;

and that she may have life

I will die for her,

And, lifting her out of that deep,

I will restore her to you.

As he stood there puzzling over that, Frodo walked in.

"Did you find my papers, then?" he asked, before he realized what Merry was looking at.

Merry hastily put the paper down, and said, "Yes, Pippin gathered them up. I hope we didn’t misplace anything."

"Oh, good. I had some letters in there I didn’t want to lose." Frodo glanced at the stack of papers, and suddenly realized what Merry had been reading. He started, and then quickly recovered himself. "Oh, and I’ve been copying some of Bilbo’s elvish poetry," he added, as casually as possible. "I see you found that." It wasn’t a question.

"I hope you don’t mind," Merry said, wondering himself why he was nearly blushing. "It fell out of the packet when I put the papers on your desk."

"Oh, not at all," Frodo lied. "Let me know if you are ever interested in borrowing the books Bilbo gave me." Frodo’s hand strayed to his chest, and touched something under his shirt.

"Thank you, I certainly will," said Merry, though he could think of other things he would be more interested in. "I was just finished cleaning in here, so it is ready for you to move back in now." He picked up his bucket and rags and left quickly, still trying to figure out what he had done to upset Frodo. Clearly that poem struck a nerve, even if it was written by elves. But Frodo had not told him everything, of that he was sure. Now that he thought about it, maybe he did want to see those books of Bilbo’s, after all.