The Choices of Master Meriadoc
Title: The Choices of Master Meriadoc
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Summary: At Bilbo's infamous Eleventy-First Birthday Party, Meriadoc Brandybuck comes to his own conclusions.
Disclaimer: Hobbits are my inspiration, not my property. The characters and themes discussed in this work were created by the esteemed Prof. Tolkien and are being used with the deepest respect and love.
Summary: At Bilbo's infamous Eleventy-first Birthday Party, Meriadoc Brandybuck comes to his own conclusions.
Dedication: To marigoldg, without your challenge I never would have been inspired to explore this particular idea.
Author's Note: This story is not the one I was going to write. Frankly, Merry took over the process and I've been desperately trying to keep up ever since. Those Brandybucks, much too intelligent for my own good;-).
A/N 2: Everything in italics is memory/flashback.
Meriadoc Brandybuck was nobody's fool. The moment that dear old Cousin Bilbo disappeared in a flash and a bang Merry knew that something more was going on than just another one of Mad Baggins' tricks. The lack both of surprise and shock mirrored on Cousin Frodo's face only confirmed this suspicion. Frodo was not, after all, devoid of emotion and the sudden loss of his guardian, benefactor, and dear relative was bound to cause more reaction than merely a calm sip of wine. Though Frodo's face showed no surprise, it did wear a melancholy little smile that, when he noticed it, drove a spike of loss through Merry's heart. Abruptly he knew that he would most probably not be seeing Bilbo ever again, an idea that seemed absolutely unimaginable. Even though Merry had sometimes thought Bilbo was half ready to jump through the door and run down the road at a moment's notice, it had never seemed remotely possible that the eccentric hobbit would actually do so. Merry realized, with a start, that he was going to desperately miss the old fool.
"And that's Lake Town, isn't it, Cousin Bilbo?" Merry answered with a smug grin, he knew he was correct, he tended to always be correct. His finger unerringly pointed at a large-ish dot settled snuggly between the rather large lake and the solitary mountain expertly rendered on an exquisite example of the map-maker's art. The map was mottled with both the muted rays of sunlight that shone into the shadowed smial and with the accumulated wear of many years of use and love.
"Exactly, my lad," Bilbo responded with an indulgent smile. It was difficult to dislike the young Brandybuck, as Bilbo had found to his frequent amusement. The lad's unique combination of Brandybuck cunning and Tookish inquisitiveness had been known to send more than one relative, and even his own dear parents, into near conniptions at times. It was no secret that Bilbo himself was known to elicit the same types of reactions from the esteemed members of his extended family and at times Bilbo wasn't quite sure whether he was fond of Merry for the lad's sake alone, or whether that fondness was heavily influenced by his personal amusement at the ordered chaos he frequently left in his young wake.
"Cousin Bilbo, could you tell me about how you arrived in Lake Town, again? Please?" The lad's eager request broke through Bilbo's reverie and with a shrug of his shoulders he pulled himself out of his internal meanderings. With a grin and a wink Bilbo looked down at his young relative, a plot quickly forming in his own clever mind.
"I've a much better idea, Master Meriadoc." Bilbo replied, "What do you say to going down to the Water and re-enacting that auspicious chapter of my illustrious adventure with me?"
Bilbo couldn't help laughing at the mischievous twinkle that appeared in the lad's eyes and the clever smile that curved his lips in excitement and approbation. That lad was going to astound the Shire one day, of that Bilbo was absolutely certain.
An image of Bilbo, standing in the doorway at Bag End, framed by the verdant hill rising behind him, grinning in either welcome or farewell, passed quickly through Merry's mind. With a smile and a silent toast Merry drank old Bilbo's health and wished him the best on his journey. The road was long, as both Bilbo and Frodo delighted in singing, and if there was anyone who could conquer it at his advanced age it would be Bilbo Baggins.
The grin passed and Merry sobered rapidly as he was struck by a terrifying thought. Frodo shared much more with Bilbo than simply a family name and a love of the elvish language. Frodo was more like Bilbo than most sons were like their fathers and it would not be inconceivable at all for Frodo to quietly follow Bilbo on his journey. Merry suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe, for if Bilbo's disappearance was unimaginable then Frodo's would be absolutely impossible. Frodo had been a part of Merry's life for as long as there had been a Meriadoc to plague the lanes of the Shire, and Merry was not eager at all to discover what a life without Frodo would be like. It didn't bear contemplating.
"Oh Frodo, you should have seen the look on old Fatty's face when he noticed the mess that 'someone' had made of his dear, impossible kitchen. I was nearly certain that, if I had tapped his head at that very moment, it would have popped just exactly like an over-ripe tomato. I'm not quite certain how I kept a straight face, for every time I looked at Estella I was certain that I was simply going to die from all of the laughter I was holding in. It was brilliant, absolutely brilliant." Merry was on the edge of tears, his laughter ringing through the copse. He had already fallen over onto the ground and he was staring up at the lush foliage above them, completely overcome by the hilarity of the memory.
Frodo was sitting beside him, trying very hard not to allow his own amusement at the recounted situation to show on his face. He could well imagine Fatty's consternation at Merry's well-executed prank. There were few things that flustered the dear hobbit more than an attack on his perfectly ordered kitchen.
"Now Merry," Frodo began, desperately hoping that he could retain the 'I am your responsible elder cousin and you must listen to my advice' tone of voice that he was sure he was employing. "It is rather reprehensible that you talked Estella into such an attack on her brother. You are already completely hopeless and I don't want you to go about corrupting the lass."
"What!?" Merry squawked in response, tears of laughter still running down his face, making his eyes shine brilliantly. "Me corrupt her? I believe the girl was corrupt the moment she took her first breath! The whole thing was practically her idea in the first place!"
"That is not the point, Meriadoc," Frodo rebutted, but was not allowed to finish his remonstrance as Merry had already taken ahold of his side of the argument and had not yet had his full say in the matter.
"And another thing, as if you have any right to chastise me for a harmless, good-natured prank. I have heard more stories about the incorrigible Frodo Baggins than any hobbit should have to endure. You're still that 'infamous Frodo Baggins' in Brandybuck Hall and if you have the nerve to try and tell me-" Merry trailed off as he noticed the look in Frodo's eyes. He had seen that look before, that impossible, 'I want to fall over laughing but I can't because I am supposed to be setting an example for impressionable, young hobbits' look that Merry had only ever seen him employ when trying to keep Pippin in line during his visits to Bag End.
"Why Frodo, you're laughing at me!" Merry observed, his expression changing from self-righteous indignation to glowing self-commendation.
"I most certainly am not!" Frodo countered, desperately trying to draw around himself an illusion of dignity. It wasn't working, Frodo could already tell that he was losing this battle, the hilarity in Merry's eyes was pulling him down from his moral height.
"You most certainly are!" Merry responded with a knowing smirk. "You think my prank on Fatty was as brilliant as it most obviously was, don't you?" Merry slowly edged his way closer to his cousin. He was absolutely confident of his eventual victory as he saw Frodo's face grow redder and redder with his valiant attempt to suppress the laughter that was nearly ready to bubble over. His eyes were becoming shinier and shinier with tears and, if Merry was correct in his observation, and he was positive that he was correct, that look on Frodo's face came not from indigestion but from a desperate attempt to retain his dignity as the older and wiser cousin. "Really, you should have seen the look on Fatty's face," Merry continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "An over-ripe tomato simply doesn't do it justice. And the way his eyes bugged out, it wasn't to be believed."
Frodo couldn't hold it in any longer. He erupted in laughter, the force of the blow sent him flying onto his back, his whole body convulsing in a fit of hilarity. Merry smiled in triumph and then he too was pulled under into a shared moment of complete and reckless abandon. They lay side by side under the leafy boughs, sending their combined laughter into the atmosphere around them.
"Oh Frodo," Merry gasped as their laughter wound down. He turned over and wrapped his cousin in a back-breaking embrace. "Never, ever change."
Merry knew Frodo would one day leave, it was a truth that, if he were being completely honest with himself, he had always known. With a grim and sober determination, two characteristics many who knew him would deny he could ever possess, Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Saradoc, resolved that when Frodo left he would not leave alone.
*****
It was generally agreed that the joke was in very bad taste, and more food and drink were needed to cure the guests of shock and annoyance. 'He's mad, I always said so,' was probably the most popular comment. Even the Tooks (with a few exceptions) thought Bilbo's behaviour was absurd. For the moment most of them took it for granted that his disappearance was nothing more than a ridiculous prank.
But old Rory Brandybuck was not so sure. Neither age nor an enormous dinner had clouded his wits, and he said to his daughter-in-law, Esmeralda: 'There's something fishy in this, my dear! I believe that mad Baggins is off again. Silly old fool. But why worry? He hasn't taken the vittles with him.'
A Long-Expected Party, The Lord of the Rings p. 30
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Summary: At Bilbo's infamous Eleventy-First Birthday Party, Meriadoc Brandybuck comes to his own conclusions.
Disclaimer: Hobbits are my inspiration, not my property. The characters and themes discussed in this work were created by the esteemed Prof. Tolkien and are being used with the deepest respect and love.
Summary: At Bilbo's infamous Eleventy-first Birthday Party, Meriadoc Brandybuck comes to his own conclusions.
Dedication: To marigoldg, without your challenge I never would have been inspired to explore this particular idea.
Author's Note: This story is not the one I was going to write. Frankly, Merry took over the process and I've been desperately trying to keep up ever since. Those Brandybucks, much too intelligent for my own good;-).
A/N 2: Everything in italics is memory/flashback.
Meriadoc Brandybuck was nobody's fool. The moment that dear old Cousin Bilbo disappeared in a flash and a bang Merry knew that something more was going on than just another one of Mad Baggins' tricks. The lack both of surprise and shock mirrored on Cousin Frodo's face only confirmed this suspicion. Frodo was not, after all, devoid of emotion and the sudden loss of his guardian, benefactor, and dear relative was bound to cause more reaction than merely a calm sip of wine. Though Frodo's face showed no surprise, it did wear a melancholy little smile that, when he noticed it, drove a spike of loss through Merry's heart. Abruptly he knew that he would most probably not be seeing Bilbo ever again, an idea that seemed absolutely unimaginable. Even though Merry had sometimes thought Bilbo was half ready to jump through the door and run down the road at a moment's notice, it had never seemed remotely possible that the eccentric hobbit would actually do so. Merry realized, with a start, that he was going to desperately miss the old fool.
"And that's Lake Town, isn't it, Cousin Bilbo?" Merry answered with a smug grin, he knew he was correct, he tended to always be correct. His finger unerringly pointed at a large-ish dot settled snuggly between the rather large lake and the solitary mountain expertly rendered on an exquisite example of the map-maker's art. The map was mottled with both the muted rays of sunlight that shone into the shadowed smial and with the accumulated wear of many years of use and love.
"Exactly, my lad," Bilbo responded with an indulgent smile. It was difficult to dislike the young Brandybuck, as Bilbo had found to his frequent amusement. The lad's unique combination of Brandybuck cunning and Tookish inquisitiveness had been known to send more than one relative, and even his own dear parents, into near conniptions at times. It was no secret that Bilbo himself was known to elicit the same types of reactions from the esteemed members of his extended family and at times Bilbo wasn't quite sure whether he was fond of Merry for the lad's sake alone, or whether that fondness was heavily influenced by his personal amusement at the ordered chaos he frequently left in his young wake.
"Cousin Bilbo, could you tell me about how you arrived in Lake Town, again? Please?" The lad's eager request broke through Bilbo's reverie and with a shrug of his shoulders he pulled himself out of his internal meanderings. With a grin and a wink Bilbo looked down at his young relative, a plot quickly forming in his own clever mind.
"I've a much better idea, Master Meriadoc." Bilbo replied, "What do you say to going down to the Water and re-enacting that auspicious chapter of my illustrious adventure with me?"
Bilbo couldn't help laughing at the mischievous twinkle that appeared in the lad's eyes and the clever smile that curved his lips in excitement and approbation. That lad was going to astound the Shire one day, of that Bilbo was absolutely certain.
An image of Bilbo, standing in the doorway at Bag End, framed by the verdant hill rising behind him, grinning in either welcome or farewell, passed quickly through Merry's mind. With a smile and a silent toast Merry drank old Bilbo's health and wished him the best on his journey. The road was long, as both Bilbo and Frodo delighted in singing, and if there was anyone who could conquer it at his advanced age it would be Bilbo Baggins.
The grin passed and Merry sobered rapidly as he was struck by a terrifying thought. Frodo shared much more with Bilbo than simply a family name and a love of the elvish language. Frodo was more like Bilbo than most sons were like their fathers and it would not be inconceivable at all for Frodo to quietly follow Bilbo on his journey. Merry suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe, for if Bilbo's disappearance was unimaginable then Frodo's would be absolutely impossible. Frodo had been a part of Merry's life for as long as there had been a Meriadoc to plague the lanes of the Shire, and Merry was not eager at all to discover what a life without Frodo would be like. It didn't bear contemplating.
"Oh Frodo, you should have seen the look on old Fatty's face when he noticed the mess that 'someone' had made of his dear, impossible kitchen. I was nearly certain that, if I had tapped his head at that very moment, it would have popped just exactly like an over-ripe tomato. I'm not quite certain how I kept a straight face, for every time I looked at Estella I was certain that I was simply going to die from all of the laughter I was holding in. It was brilliant, absolutely brilliant." Merry was on the edge of tears, his laughter ringing through the copse. He had already fallen over onto the ground and he was staring up at the lush foliage above them, completely overcome by the hilarity of the memory.
Frodo was sitting beside him, trying very hard not to allow his own amusement at the recounted situation to show on his face. He could well imagine Fatty's consternation at Merry's well-executed prank. There were few things that flustered the dear hobbit more than an attack on his perfectly ordered kitchen.
"Now Merry," Frodo began, desperately hoping that he could retain the 'I am your responsible elder cousin and you must listen to my advice' tone of voice that he was sure he was employing. "It is rather reprehensible that you talked Estella into such an attack on her brother. You are already completely hopeless and I don't want you to go about corrupting the lass."
"What!?" Merry squawked in response, tears of laughter still running down his face, making his eyes shine brilliantly. "Me corrupt her? I believe the girl was corrupt the moment she took her first breath! The whole thing was practically her idea in the first place!"
"That is not the point, Meriadoc," Frodo rebutted, but was not allowed to finish his remonstrance as Merry had already taken ahold of his side of the argument and had not yet had his full say in the matter.
"And another thing, as if you have any right to chastise me for a harmless, good-natured prank. I have heard more stories about the incorrigible Frodo Baggins than any hobbit should have to endure. You're still that 'infamous Frodo Baggins' in Brandybuck Hall and if you have the nerve to try and tell me-" Merry trailed off as he noticed the look in Frodo's eyes. He had seen that look before, that impossible, 'I want to fall over laughing but I can't because I am supposed to be setting an example for impressionable, young hobbits' look that Merry had only ever seen him employ when trying to keep Pippin in line during his visits to Bag End.
"Why Frodo, you're laughing at me!" Merry observed, his expression changing from self-righteous indignation to glowing self-commendation.
"I most certainly am not!" Frodo countered, desperately trying to draw around himself an illusion of dignity. It wasn't working, Frodo could already tell that he was losing this battle, the hilarity in Merry's eyes was pulling him down from his moral height.
"You most certainly are!" Merry responded with a knowing smirk. "You think my prank on Fatty was as brilliant as it most obviously was, don't you?" Merry slowly edged his way closer to his cousin. He was absolutely confident of his eventual victory as he saw Frodo's face grow redder and redder with his valiant attempt to suppress the laughter that was nearly ready to bubble over. His eyes were becoming shinier and shinier with tears and, if Merry was correct in his observation, and he was positive that he was correct, that look on Frodo's face came not from indigestion but from a desperate attempt to retain his dignity as the older and wiser cousin. "Really, you should have seen the look on Fatty's face," Merry continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "An over-ripe tomato simply doesn't do it justice. And the way his eyes bugged out, it wasn't to be believed."
Frodo couldn't hold it in any longer. He erupted in laughter, the force of the blow sent him flying onto his back, his whole body convulsing in a fit of hilarity. Merry smiled in triumph and then he too was pulled under into a shared moment of complete and reckless abandon. They lay side by side under the leafy boughs, sending their combined laughter into the atmosphere around them.
"Oh Frodo," Merry gasped as their laughter wound down. He turned over and wrapped his cousin in a back-breaking embrace. "Never, ever change."
Merry knew Frodo would one day leave, it was a truth that, if he were being completely honest with himself, he had always known. With a grim and sober determination, two characteristics many who knew him would deny he could ever possess, Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Saradoc, resolved that when Frodo left he would not leave alone.
*****
It was generally agreed that the joke was in very bad taste, and more food and drink were needed to cure the guests of shock and annoyance. 'He's mad, I always said so,' was probably the most popular comment. Even the Tooks (with a few exceptions) thought Bilbo's behaviour was absurd. For the moment most of them took it for granted that his disappearance was nothing more than a ridiculous prank.
But old Rory Brandybuck was not so sure. Neither age nor an enormous dinner had clouded his wits, and he said to his daughter-in-law, Esmeralda: 'There's something fishy in this, my dear! I believe that mad Baggins is off again. Silly old fool. But why worry? He hasn't taken the vittles with him.'
A Long-Expected Party, The Lord of the Rings p. 30