Who Is Killing the Brandybucks? by Kathryn Ramage

Story notes: This story makes frequent reference to events in the very first Frodo Investigates! mystery, "Death on the Brandywine," in which Frodo investigated the murder of his cousin, Berilac Brandybuck. If you haven't read it, or would like to refresh your memory of what happened then, you can find this story on the Library of Moria at Death On the Brandywine

Notes: This story takes place in the spring of 1423 (S.R.).

Like my previous mysteries, this story takes elements from the book, but also uses two key points from the film version of LOTR: the Shire is untouched, and the four main hobbits are all around the same age.

Many of the names used in this story are taken from the Brandybuck family tree in Appendix C, but the characterizations are my own.

December 2006

The Frodo Investigates! series
Since returning home last autumn following his father's death, Merry Brandybuck had assumed his place as Master of Brandy Hall and was adjusting to the increased responsibilities that came with it. It wasn't an easy transition for the formerly carefree young hobbit, but he left much of the business of managing Buckland to his Uncle Merimac, as his father had done, and when his burdens were too much for him, he slipped away to visit Frodo, who was living in the cottage at Crickhollow.

Frodo had been living in Buckland since their return from Gondor to be near Merry during this difficult time, and to finish his book in peace. The Brandybucks would have been happy to welcome him at Brandy Hall, but like other members of the family, Frodo preferred the quiet of the cottages on the property to the crowd and noise of the enormous smial. Crickhollow was at the farthest end of the lane, about a mile from the Hall.

When Merry came to visit that spring day, Milliflora, the maidservant who looked after Frodo, answered the door and informed him, "Mr. Frodo's at his writing, Master Merry," then pointed to the smaller of the two bedrooms, which had been converted into a study.

Merry went in to find Frodo seated at the table that served as his desk. The Red Book lay open and the tip of his pen was black with fresh ink. Frodo was frowning intently at the half-filled page before him, but didn't appear to be actually writing anything down.

Merry spoke his name softly, and Frodo looked up from his book and smiled. "Merry, hello! I didn't hear you come in."

"You were off in another world. I've brought you your letters." Merry stepped into the room and placed two letters on the table. "One's from Sam and the other's from Melly. How is the book coming along?" Now that he was closer, Merry could see by the wet ink on the page that Frodo had only written a few lines.

"I'm afraid I haven't done much lately. I've come to the difficult part." Frodo sighed and set his pen down. "Mordor."

"That must be most painful part of the story for you," Merry said sympathetically.

"It would be," agreed Frodo, "if my memories of it weren't so vague. It's more like a nightmare to me than something real. I'll have to ask Sam to tell me what happened. He remembers it all."

"Why don't you? You can ride over to stay at Bag End for a day or two, or ask him to come visit you here if Rose will let him."

"I'll go to Bag End," said Frodo. "Sam's far too busy these days with his own family and his new job to come all this way to see me."

That 'new job' had come as a surprise when Pippin had first told them about it: When the Chief Shirriff in Bywater had retired last summer, Mayor Whitfoot offered the position to Sam in light of his investigations with Frodo. In one of his letters, Sam had told Frodo that he'd accepted the job with the provision that it didn't interfere with his gardening--and so far, it hadn't. With his usual self-effacement, Sam also wrote that the Mayor had only offered him the job because Frodo had been away, but Frodo thought the appointment was well deserved. He was enormously pleased and proud.

Sam wrote him once a week faithfully, and through those letters as well as less frequent correspondence from Peony and Angelica, Frodo could see how much of a life Sam had gained since he'd gone. Sam's appointment as Chief Shirriff had made him a prominent person in his own right, and he and Rose had come up socially in consequence. Lad Whitfoot, the Mayor's son, and Lad's wife Angelica had befriended the Gamgees; whenever Sam went to Michel Delving on business, he had dinner with Lad and Angelica or at the Mayor's Hall. Sam had also been invited by Lad and Milo Burrows to attend the pony races with them this coming season, and Frodo's cousins were becoming regular visitors to tea at Bag End--it seemed to Frodo that they visited more often now than when he had lived there.

Frodo had only seen Sam once since his return to the Shire, when he'd gone to Bag End immediately after coming home to see the new baby and gather some of his belongings. He'd intended to tell Sam how his relationship with Merry had changed while they were away, but when it had come to the point, he'd lost his nerve. After Sam had awaited his return so eagerly, Frodo couldn't bear to hurt him more than was necessary. He only told Sam that he would be staying in Buckland while his cousin needed him.

Even so blunted, this news had been a great disappointment to Sam, but he'd accepted it. He understood the obligations of family.

Frodo spent two nights in his bedroom at Bag End, alone, and during the day between, he packed the personal possessions he'd left behind when he'd gone to Minas Tirith and made arrangements to have some of his books and heavier items carted to Brandy Hall. The Crickhollow cottage had been sitting empty since Merry and Pippin had vacated it nearly three years ago and it was in need of repair before it could be made livable. Frodo stayed at the Hall until the end of September, and moved into the cottage just after his 38th birthday.

As he read Sam's letters, Frodo was convinced that he'd done the right thing by removing himself from Sam Gamgee's life. His friend had gained so much in this past year. Since they'd been separated so long, their final parting when he went to the Undying Lands and be healed would be easier for them both.

It was better too, that he spend the time he had left, however long it might be, with his family here in Buckland. Frodo had relatives from one end of the Shire to the other, but the Brandybucks were 'family' in a special way. Brandy Hall was his first home: he'd been born there and brought up in the nursery with the Brandybuck children; they were the closest he had to siblings. Saradoc and Esmeralda, Merry's parents, had cared for him after his own mother and father had drowned. And while none of the Bagginses except for Bilbo and Dora considered him a true and proper Baggins, the Brandybucks thought of him as one of their own.

He picked up his letters and broke the wax seal on Sam's. "I'll have to read these before dinner. You're staying for dinner, aren't you, Merry?"

Merry grinned. "Of course I'm staying, if Milli's made enough for two."

Frodo returned the smile. "She always does."

He and Merry had their dinner and, afterwards, while the maid was washing up, went out to sit on the grassy slope of the cottage. It was early March, and the first profusion of fresh green leaves were sprouting on the trees and daffodils were coming up in golden clumps all over.

As he stood on top of the cottage, Frodo looked out over the hedge that encircled his garden. "Did you come up the lane past the other cottages?" he asked.

"No," said Merry, who was seated at his feet, patting his pockets for a pipe. "I came across the fields by way of Bucklebury. Why?"

"Celie and Merimas were quarreling earlier when I was at Uncle Dino's. He's teaching me how to play golf."

Since the first spring rains had abated and the days had begun to be warm, they'd been practicing in the mowed field behind Dinodas' cottage. His aged uncle used a great deal of obscure jargon, but Frodo gathered that point of the game was to hit little wooden balls with a hooked club, then spend the rest of the afternoon hunting them down in the grass. Some little red flags had been set up near holes around the field, but Frodo hadn't gotten anywhere near one so far, and Uncle Dinodas seemed to enjoy whacking his golf-balls vigorously in any direction, as if he didn't care where they went.

This afternoon, the search for lost balls had taken Frodo into the meadow behind Celie's and Merimas's cottage, which was just down the lane from Dinodas'. There, he had overheard Merimas berating his wife. Dinodas, who was hard of hearing, didn't seem to notice, but Frodo had been horribly embarrassed at his accidental eavesdropping. He'd left as quickly as he could, but from the shouted words he couldn't help overhearing, it sounded as if Merimas thought Celie was spending too much time with her friends, or one friend in particular.

Celie, along with her brothers Dodi and Ilbie, went around with a set of jolly and noisy young hobbits, distant cousins from the cadet branch of the Brandybuck family in Bucklebury, and other Buckland gentry. Frodo could sometimes hear the parties that went on at Ivysmial since Dodi and his wife Isalda had moved in, and he knew that Merimas didn't approve of such festivities.

Frodo felt sorry for Celie. He wasn't as close to her as he was to Merry and Melilot, for Celie was much younger than he and only a baby when he'd left the Brandybuck nursery, but he was fond of her. She was a lively, sweet-tempered girl who had unfortunately taken too much interest in boys too early for her family's comfort, and had been married off as soon as possible to the most respectable, eligible young hobbit available, her eldest cousin Merimas. Merimas was not a lively hobbit. Frodo wasn't on bad terms with Merimas, even though Merimas didn't entirely approve of him, but he hated the way Merimas spoke so sharply to Celie and always seemed to imply that her natural high spirits were something less reputable.

"Quarreling? Again?"

Frodo nodded. "I wondered if they were still at it." He sat down beside his cousin and took out his own pipe.

"What's the news from Sam and Melly?" Merry asked as they lay down on the grass to smoke. "Anything interesting?"

"Sam's letter was mostly about the baby." Many of Sam's letters were about little Elanor and what a remarkable infant she was. "Oh, and did I tell you Rosie's expecting again?"

"You did, after Sam's last letter. So is Estella, by the by. She told everyone this morning, when the aunties noticed how she didn't want any breakfast. They've been suspecting it the last couple of weeks. Everybody's having babies, except for us--thank goodness! And how's Melly?"

"She and Ev and their little boy are well, and so is the rest of the family. Peri and Ferdi are back from their honeymoon..." Frodo hesitated, then told Merry, "Pippin's home."

"Is he?" Merry examined his pipe and spoke with studied casualness, as if he weren't keenly interested in this news. "He couldn't have gone all the way to Dale and back since he left us."

"The troupe was going to spend the winter in Minas Tirith," said Frodo, knowing that Merry knew this as well as he did.

"Yes, that's right. I wonder if Strider was surprised to see him back again so soon. What about Pimmy? Did she come home too?"

"Melly says not."

"I suppose she's going to marry that acrobat she was sweet on." Merry laughed. "Can you imagine how Aunt Eggie will welcome a rope-walking circus performer as a son-in-law?"

"Maybe she won't mind it so much," said Frodo. "After all, all three of her daughters will have been married off successfully."

"And that just leaves Pip to find a wife for. The Tooks won't have given up on that plan, especially not now that I'm out of the way. Maybe Pip won't put up a fight this time." Merry turned his head to look at Frodo. "The aunties still haven't given up hope that I'll be getting married someday, and Uncle Merry keeps hinting that now that I'm Master of the Hall, I have duties to the family I mustn't forget. As if I could forget my duties now! At least he doesn't push girls at me the way Father used to. Mother, thank goodness, seems to understand."

"She knows about us, you know."

Merry's eyebrows shot up. "Does she?"

Frodo nodded. "She told me so one night after dinner. She said she'd guessed it when we first came home, but realized we were trying to be discreet and didn't want to embarrass us." He smiled. "She said she was surprised it should be me, but I'd always been another son to her, and always would be."

"Mother's wonderful," said Merry. "It's a pity I can't marry you, Frodo."

"I'd do it if you asked me nicely," Frodo responded, "but I don't think the family would see it as a step in the right direction."

Merry laughed. "If it weren't for the unlikelihood of us producing a Brandybuck heir together, I expect they'd say I'd made a very good match and was lucky to get you." He cast one arm out over the grass toward Frodo, hand spread to reach for him; Frodo extended his own hand to clasp it.

"Maybe I will marry someday, for duty's sake," Merry went on thoughtfully. "But if I ever do, I'll tell the girl about my past--Pip and you and the rest of it. The gossip's been all over the Shire, so she surely must have heard something about me already. I mean for her, whoever she is, to understand what sort of husband she'll have. I don't expect it to shock her. Girls aren't the innocent little lambikins we're told they are. Most of 'em know what's what even if they haven't had a chance to try it out for themselves. I wouldn't like to marry anybody who was too innocent. I've corrupted enough innocents. I wouldn't expect her to have as much experience as me-"

"I don't see how she could," Frodo murmured, teasing.

Merry pulled up a handful of grass and threw it at him. "Well, why shouldn't a girl have love affairs?" he asked. "Jelly did, and that was with the boy she wanted to--and did!--marry, and yet people whisper about it as if she'd done something awful. Or look at poor little Celie and the way Merimas carries on because she might've had a bit of fun with a boy or two before she married him. She certainly never did anything worse than I did, but they matched her with that stick-in-the-mud while she was too young to stand up for herself. They wouldn't have tried that with me!"

"What if they'd tried to marry you to Celie?" asked Frodo.

"I'm sure I'd be a disappointing husband to a girl who likes boys as much as I do, but at least I wouldn't nag her about having her own fun if she didn't trouble me about mine."

Below them, the kitchen door opened. "I'm going now, Mr. Frodo, if there's nothing else," the maid called out, unseen around the curve of the cottage.

"No, Milli, nothing," Frodo called back. "Thank you."

After a moment's pause, Milli asked delicately, "Will Master Merry be here for breakfast?"

Merry grinned at Frodo and answered, "Yes, Milli."

"I'll bring in extra eggs and milk tomorrow then. G'night t'ye both!"

"Good night!" they called after her. The gate creaked as she went out.

Frodo laughed. "I'm sure she knows just what goes on here whenever you visit."

"I'm sure of it myself," Merry agreed, "but she won't carry tales. That's why I engaged Milli particularly. She's had her fill of gossip."

Frodo wondered what he meant by this, but before he could ask, Merry pounced and rolled him onto the grass for some kissing.

They stayed lying out in the grass until dusk, when it began to grow chilly. While Merry never fussed over Frodo's health as much as Sam had, he suggested that it was time they went in. As they came down the slope by the cottage's brick front, they heard Celie shouting in the distance--"Merimas!"--and then saw a dark-headed figure, presumably Merimas, go swiftly past Crickhollow's gate a minute later.

"Still at it," murmured Frodo. "Poor Celie."

They went inside. In the sitting-room, he knelt on the hearthrug to make up the fire. Merry stood over him, watching him thoughtfully.

"You are happy here, aren't you, Frodo?" he asked. "It's wonderful having you nearby, but you needn't stay just on my account. You can go back to Bag End any time you like. I wouldn't try to stop you."

"I know, but I am happy." Frodo turned his attention to the fire, feeding the tiny blaze twigs and scraps of loose bark to make it grow. "I miss Sam, and Bag End, but when I was there last, I felt as if they weren't mine anymore. I'd been gone so long. I felt like an intruder. Bag End is Sam's and Rosie's home now. It's just as it would've been if I'd never altered the natural course of his life."

"Except they'd be living with the Cottons, or with the Gaffer in Bagshot Row or in some other tiny bungalow," said Merry, "and not in one of the pleasantest houses in Hobbiton. You don't even make them pay rent for it, do you?"

"The house will be theirs by rights anyway, after I'm gone. For the present, I prefer living here at Crickhollow. It's private. I can do as I please, have whatever visitors I please, without worrying about what the nosy neighbors will say." Frodo smiled, and Merry grinned in response and crouched down onto the hearthrug beside him. He put one hand on Frodo's cheek and they leaned in toward each other for a soft kiss. "Besides," Frodo added when their mouths parted, "I like living alone."

"You aren't lonely? You could come to stay at the Hall for awhile if you are," Merry offered. "Hardly anyone's there these days--only Mother and the aunties, Uncle Merry, Ilbie and Estella. The place feels quite empty."

"That's because they all come to visit me nearly as often as you do," Frodo rejoined. "You mustn't worry that I'm ever lonely, Merry. Your mother sees that I'm asked to tea and dinner often enough that I'm no stranger to the Hall. Ilbie and 'Stella, and Dodi and Isalda, come to call at least once a week, and Fatty and Flora drop by whenever they're in Buckland to visit their sisters. Celie sometimes brings her little boys to play with Milli's Jem. And you know about Uncle Dino and the golf lessons. When I don't want company, it's quiet here--no excitement except for a party down the lane or a domestic squabble once in awhile. Not like those days when we were professional investigators and it seemed like everyone in the Shire was knocking on the door and asking for my help."

"But don't you miss detecting, Frodo, at least a little?"

"A little," Frodo admitted. "It was gratifying to be able to help people when they were in trouble, but it was sometimes very hard to see their trouble and the ugly secrets that turned up when we looked too closely. All those things I still don't like to believe hobbits are capable of." Also, the extent of his reputation as the Great Investigator had begun to alarm him. He'd never wanted that kind of fame, nor the burden of responsibility for the lives and deaths of other people. It was all right, even fun, to have a curious puzzle to solve, but so many of his cases involved real people--hobbits, Men, Elves--in real pain. "I may take it up again one day, if it's a special case, but until then, I'm not sorry I've retired. I have what I've wanted since my quest was ended--a peaceful life with someone I love."

He leaned in to kiss Merry again. True, Merry wasn't the person he'd envisioned this peaceful life with, but he was content. Sam was always in his thoughts, as he knew Pippin was in Merry's, but they had found a measure of happiness with each other.
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