It was a night for experiments. Curiosity and a sense of adven-ture drove them on to find new and more inventive ways to give each other pleasure; there were a few mistakes--and more than one startled yelp--but, by trial and error, they learned. When they slept at last, it was in a tangle of fully gratified exhaustion. They woke early the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the window, still wrapped up together, dark curls mingling with fair on the same pillow.
After an enormous breakfast to match their dinner of the previous night, they resumed their hike. Instead of staying on the main road, however, they turned as soon as they left the town onto a southward path that cut many miles off their journey.
The first part of the path led them through woodlands. As they went along, Frodo glanced over his shoulder once, then again. "I thought I heard something in the underbrush," he said after turning the second time.
"Probably a squirrel or rabbit."
"No, it was larger."
"A deer then." Merry peered into the trees that crowded either side of the path, but he saw nothing. He stooped to pick up a rock and flung it with his usual accuracy into a nearby clump of brush, but there was no startled movement in response. Not even a bird took flight. "Whatever it was, it must have gone."
They walked on. By the time their path crossed the broader road to Stock, the land was clear again; the woods had ended and they walked between open fields of oats and corn.
Merry stopped at a gap in a hedgerow. "There's a short-cut here," he announced. "If we cut across this field, we can go around by the Maggot farm."
"Is old Farmer Maggot still there?" Frodo asked nervously.
"Yes, he's there." Merry smiled, guessing the reason for his cousin's apprehension. "You're thinking of the time just before you went off to live with Bilbo, when we stole those mushrooms, aren't you?"
Frodo nodded, a little embarrassed to admit it. "And old Maggot set his dogs on us to chase us off the property. I've never dared to set a foot on his land since."
"I wouldn't worry," Merry assured him. "That was more than ten years ago, and I doubt he'd remember you after all this time. Besides, we don't have to go near the farmhouse. I know a path that goes along the Stockbrook, and comes out at the lane to Bucklebury Ferry. We needn't run into old Maggot at all. It'll be all right, and much quicker if we go this way. We'll be in Buckland in time to join them for dinner at the Hall, and we can settle down at the cottage tonight."
He went through the gap in the hedge and into the half-mowed cornfield beyond. Somewhat reluctantly, Frodo followed. Merry slipped an arm around his cousin's waist as they picked their way through the stubble of cropped stalks. They had just passed by a weather-worn scarecrow when he went on, "Mind you, it's a good walk before we get there. If you feel a bit peckish, we can pick up something to nibble on."
"Merry, no."
"Old Maggot won't grudge us a carrot or two, or some of those mushrooms-"
"Merry, no. No stealing."
"You're no fun, Frodo," Merry teased.
"Aren't I?" Frodo teased back. "You felt differently about that last night! If you behave yourself this once, Merry, I promise I'll make it up to you when we get to Crickhollow."
"You mean, if I'm good now, you'll be naughty later on?" Merry grinned at the prospect of another night--perhaps a half-dozen nights!--like the one they had spent at the inn.
"As naughty as you like," Frodo answered, and gripped Merry's coat-collar to draw him close for a kiss.
As they kissed, there was a sudden, violent rustle of leaves in the hedgerow behind them. With a cry of outrage, Sam burst through and rushed toward them. "You get your filthy hands off him!"
Before Merry knew what was happening, Sam tackled him and knocked him to the ground. They rolled over the cropped corn stalks, Sam shouting incoherently and pummeling him with both fists.
"Sam!" Frodo stood staring, eyes wide with horror, then he plunged in to try and separate them. "Sam, stop it! What do you think you're doing!" Grabbing Sam by the shoulders, he pulled as hard as he could to haul him off of Merry and, once he had gotten Sam down, sat on him. "What's all this about?" he demanded. "Have you been following us from Hobbiton?"
Sam was still huffing angrily, but he would not fight Frodo. "I left right after you did," he said. "I wanted to find out what he was up to with you--no good, I was sure of that. I stood under your window at the inn last night." He glared at Merry, who sat gingerly touching his bloody and rapidly swelling lower lip.
"Spying on us!" Merry shot back. "Just as you were at Bag End!"
"I heard it all!" Sam responded unashamedly to this accusation. "I know what went on, what you did with him!" Then he turned to look up at Frodo, eyes filling with tears, and sobbed, "Why'd you let him touch you?"
"What business is it of yours?" Merry retorted. "You didn't want him anymore. You've got someone else."
Sam bellowed and struggled to get up, but Frodo firmly held him down. "Sam, stop this ridiculous behavior right now! I won't put up with it! Merry, will you please leave us alone? You're only making him angrier. Let me try to calm him down."
Merry retreated to the edge of the field to straighten his rum-pled clothes and nurse his injuries. He watched Frodo lean down over Sam and speak to him softly--too softly for Merry to hear. Whatever he said, it had a soothing effect, for when Frodo let Sam up, Sam no longer seemed eager to fight. Merry kept his distance, just to be safe, while the two sat together beneath the scarecrow, Frodo with one arm around Sam's shoulders, head close to his. They went on talking quietly. Sam began to cry.
After awhile, Frodo placed a gentle kiss on Sam's temple and gave him a handkerchief to blow his nose and dry his eyes, then came over to speak to Merry.
"Sam's very sorry he hit you--aren't you, Sam?" Frodo raised his voice at this last, and looked back toward Sam.
"Sorry," Sam mumbled sullenly, but the glowering look on his red and tear-streaked face made Merry doubt that the apology was sincere.
"He lost his temper when he saw us together," Frodo explained. "He's jealous. We've had a little talk, and said a few things that ought to have been said some time ago. We've come to an agreement." He met his cousin's eyes. "You said one true thing last night, Merry: I'm not in love with you. I know where my heart lies." And he glanced back at Sam again.
Merry had guessed as much already, but he was surprised at the pang of sadness he felt in hearing Frodo say it. It looked like he cared more than he wanted to admit.
"I'm going back to Hobbiton with Sam," Frodo continued. "I don't know how this will end. Maybe Sam will marry his Rosie someday, but he's sees that he can't think of it as long as he feels this strongly about me. We'll enjoy whatever time we have together... just as you and I did. I'm sorry, Merry, that I won't be going to Crickhollow with you."
"Think nothing of it," Merry assured him. "You'd only miss out on a bit of fun. That's all."
Frodo smiled. "At least, I've had one night away from Bag End. Thank you, for that." Under Sam's scowling gaze, he gave Merry a swift peck on the cheek. "Will you make my apologies to your mother? Tell her I'll come for a visit some other time." Then he stepped away slowly and returned to his friend. He took Sam's hand, and they headed for home.
Merry sighed, then went on in the opposite direction, toward his own home. He decided he'd pick up some of Farmer Maggot's mush-rooms after all, and maybe ride down to Tuckborough in a few days to see what Pippin was doing.
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2553 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Lerina.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
