Author notes:
Special thanks to Ariel for betaing.

Chapter One: Encounter

Year: 1375

A handsome looking guy at no mistake. Too bad Violet kept warning her of him. A good-for-nothing, she called him, or worse. Last night he was Buckland's worst rascal, this afternoon, as they watched him boasting and making eyes at almost every girl at the river, he was an oaf. Violet was quite set in her opinion of the Master's youngest son and perhaps it was her cousin's dislike that constantly drew her attention towards him.

It might also have been his attitude. There was a twinkle in his eyes that reminded her very much of the young lad she had seen him with the other day. A beautiful child that. Violet had told her his name was Frodo, Frodo Baggins, a cousin to Merimac's and without any doubt very fond of him. The young lad did everything Merimac told him, even if it meant pouring cold river water over a sleeping lass who had dared turn down his tween cousin. A clever way of getting payback - for who could even think of being angry with the innocent child? Yet she hadn't missed the older lad's glowering when the young cousin won the kiss on the cheek he had doubtlessly hoped for.

And now said tween was about to sit down beside her in the shadow of a huge willow tree close by the river bank. She barely managed to suppress the smile that was lurking at the corner of her lips. So he was aware of her glances after all, though he had barely looked at her all afternoon. Not much of a surprise with Violet guarding her like a wolf would her cub.

His wet skin sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes shone a stunning green and blue which seemed even brighter against the dark brows and the dark, dripping curls framing his face. He had a prominent chin and dimpled cheeks but his features were not as angular as the Master's. His arms were strong and muscular, like his chest. Even his stomach was lean. A thin line of dark hair started at his bellybutton and disappeared under the seam of his trousers.

Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, she quickly averted her gaze.

"Why have I never seen you here?" he asked. Now that his voice was directed toward her and not merely a call in the distance, it seemed all the more captivating. It was a deep baritone and sounded like music to her ears. No wonder he was considered the heartbreaker of Buckland. He had even caught her cousin. Yet he would never manage to get her. She was not easily charmed and even if she were, she usually stayed alert enough to not have her heart stolen.

"You should have opened your eyes, Master Brandybuck," she replied dryly.

She could see him grin though she tried to keep her attention on the river flowing so gently below them. Children and adults were swimming in the brown stream that sparkled in the sun. Her cousin was among them. She would never understand the Bucklander attitude to the river. Hobbits were not made for swimming or boats and she would certainly not do more than cool her legs in the water.

"Well, then." He moved closer so she could feel the warmth of his body. "Who are you? What's your name? Where are you from and what brings you to Buckland?"

She did not know whether she should laugh or be shocked at his boldness. Either way, his nearness was too much. Wordlessly, she restored the distance between them and met him with a stern glance. He seemed to understand her warning immediately for, though his grin grew wider, there was an apologetic glimmer in his eyes. She smiled, content. "Does your father pay you to interrogate newcomers? Those are a great many questions and I'm afraid, Master Brandybuck, I do not know which to answer first."

He paused for a moment and she thought she had caught him off his guard but then something sparkled in his eyes and his smile, momentarily dimmed, returned to its full brightness. He accepted her game. "I'm afraid my efforts are not appreciated by my family. But I do hope I have not offended you with my questions, because I do have a purpose for asking them."

"A selfish one, I deem," she countered, feeling quite pleased with their conversation.

"Not at all," he cried in feigned dismay. She had to cover her mouth to hide her giggles. "You see, I know Buckland's folk well and I want visitors to feel comfortable. I could introduce you to people who share your interests, making your stay here all the more enjoyable."

"And no doubt you have many interests."

"I stopped counting them long ago."

She smiled at that and, giving her admirer a sideways glance, she leaned back in the grass, listening to calls of hobbits and birds and to the rustle of leaves above her head. Shadows danced over her face and, as the Master's youngest son lay down beside her, she stole another look at him.

"Scary," she said after a long while.

Merimac immediately sat up and frowned. "What's scary?"

"I am," she replied, her lips twitching at his bewilderment. She let him brood a little longer and stood up. "From Scary," she finished brushing some blades of grass from her dress. Just then, Violet appeared at the riverbank.

"Hoy, cousin!" Violet called out. "I thought I told you to stay away from him."

Merimac grimaced and paled visibly. He met her gaze trepidly. "Violet Grubb is your cousin?"

She shrugged. A smile brightened her face as she watched Merimac's disappointment grow. It seemed he had much the same opinion of her cousin as Violet had of him. A good-for nothing? Perhaps Violet was right, but even so, he was a charming one. With a brief goodbye wave, she ran to meet the other lass and did not answer to his request for her name. After all she had been warned. If this was a game to him, then she would set the rules and the degree of difficulty. If even half of what Violet had said was true, he would find it out sooner or later.