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Merry
Merry remained calm, still, and resolute, like an unmoved
figure of carven stone that is not troubled by the winds of time, or the
oncoming force of a storm. His eyes seemed pitch-dark at their surfaces, like
unclean glass that disallows the penetration of light, but beneath were lit as
though by the subtle, eerie glow of a nearly spent candle. He glanced toward
Pippin, whose expression of sudden realization as he recollected the obscure
lore of the Spells of Old was not lost on him, and Merry smiled upon Frodo with
the patience of an old but great king who has too many times seen the unfurling
of war banners on his battle realm to despair.
“I shall save him,” said Merry slowly and decidedly, “I shall save him, once
certain arrangements have been made, and you and I have reached an agreement. I
do wish to help poor Sam, and I know how much you care for his well-being,
Frodo. Now is the time to deal, and to deal quickly, so that Sam may be loosed
from his trap sooner than later. What I ask is not so much, at least not any
more than any loving relative would seek. I wish for you to come back with us,
Frodo, return to the family that loves you and places you and the importance of
your treasure ahead of all else, at the cost of life and limb if necessary.
Agree to that, and Sam shall be produced, whole and unhurt, and returned to your
side for a while; how long exactly is entirely up to you. Refuse my help if you
will, and Sam is doomed to die a slow, terrible death, and it will be on your
conscience alone. Understand this, Frodo--this is not about how badly you fear
me, or how earnestly you wish to avoid going back--this is about saving Sam’s
life, and how much it truly means to you.”
Merry hardly stirred, with arms folded behind his back, as he waited to have
what he desired before acting. Pippin obediently stood by with ropes in hand,
ready to bind his cousin once he had correctly submitted to the requirements.
There was a momentary gleeful _expression on Pippin’s face, which Merry
misinterpreted as eagerness to have Frodo subdued and their family whole once
more. Merry smiled and ruffled the Took’s hair affectionately, nearly forgetting
the huge price he would have to pay for his earlier mistakes. Yet Merry
remembered, and it brought him sadness, as the duties of a family leader were at
times very difficult, but he needed to be strong for his charge, or all would
fail. He must forge decisions with the precision of his mind, not the mercy of
his heart, and grow fully into the hobbit who would sculpt the new future of the
Shirelings, and lead them toward greatness unimagined. Merry Brandybuck
envisioned things, both good and terrible, and he alone saw how the fate of the
hobbits may be spared, though like with all lonely missions, there must be
sacrifices on the part of himself and those he loved.
"Heed my counsel this once when I say that you should consider carefully but not
too long," added Merry, with no hint of hurry. "You hold Sam's life in your
hands, dearest Frodo."
Frodo
Frodo’s heart sank as he listened to Merry’s cold, flat voice intone what
would happen if Frodo did not do as Merry asked. Merry’s "offer", though not
unexpected, sickened and made him despair all at once. Merry’s logic was so
twisted, so flawed; yet the other was convinced that he was in the right! It was
truly frightening how far gone Merry was.
And yet… Merry was right about one thing. It would be on Frodo’s conscience
forever if something happened to Sam out here. Frodo’s conscience wouldn’t care
that it was ultimately Merry who had had the power to save Sam, and did not, if
there was something, anything Frodo could have done to get Merry to use that
power, and did not. Frodo had known Sam for the last three decades; had watched
him grow from wee and exuberant lad to responsible and caring adult. Time and
proximity had made them closer than mere master and servant. They were friends.
Merry seemed perfectly prepared to sacrifice his family and friends for The Ring
and what he thought was the right thing to do with it. Frodo, now faced with
this choice, found that he could not. He could sacrifice himself, yes. He had
known when he had left on his quest that there was a good possibility he would
not come back. He could accept that. What he could not accept was standing here
and watching while some hobbit-eating tree gobbled Sam!
And Merry knew it. Merry might be mad, but he wasn’t stupid.
Frodo’s hands clenched and unclenched by his sides, and he trembled with anger
and frustration. Looking at Merry’s impassive face, he longed, suddenly, to
clout the other with all his strength—maybe that would knock some sense into the
crazed hobbit!
But… no. Merry could be dealt with later. Frodo hoped. Samwise had to be aided
now, right now, there was no doubt about that. The gardener had gone silent in
his tree prison and Frodo was very afraid that it was already too late!
"Curse you, Merry! You should help Sam because it’s the right thing to do!"
Frodo snarled. "Not so you can get me to go along with your twisted plans!"
Frodo took a deep breath to steady himself. Play along, he told himself. Just
play along. For now. Not forever. Only until Sam is safe.
"Very well," Frodo said, in what he hoped was a more reasonable-sounding voice.
"I will… return with you. But mark me, I will do so only if Sam is unharmed, as
you said, and returns with us!"
"Now get him out of that blasted tree!"
Sam
Sweat continued to roll down Sam's face and, indeed all of his skin was
slick. Though Frodo had extinguished the licking flames, the heat inside his
prison was still intense.
He felt the call of sleep wash over him again, as he closed his eyes and tried
to breathe normally. The fire had stolen what little oxygen there was in the
tree, and now his chest rose in short, staggered breaths.
Frodo's voice called to him, breaking through the tree's malevolent song and
rousing him to consciousness. Was he alright? He didn't know, it was so hot, and
he just wanted to sleep. He must have fallen asleep out in the garden at Bag
End.
It was so dark, with not even the moon or stars to cast any light. Merry's voice
rang out now, though he couldn't make out the words. The tone of his voice
brought back Sam's current state rushing back to him, and he snapped back to
full consciousness as he heard Frodo's voice, seemingly pleading with the
corrupted hobbit. But Frodo, who was standing near to the crack in the tree
could be heard.
He hoped it had been the stifling heat of his prison has caused his mind to turn
to madness, but there he heard Frodo telling Merry he would go back home with
him, in return for Sam's freedom. Now he was assured it was Frodo, and not he
that had gone mad. The quest was too important for him to be making bargains
with insane hobbits. He had to get out of this place.
Sam tried his best to take a deep, slow breath and speak out in what he hoped
was a loud voice. "Frodo! Just go! Get out of here, now! Don't you worry about
me, it's you that needs to escape now. Don't go back with him! Leave him now,
just go!"
He was surprised to see that the tree had made no further attack against him, as
if he somehow knew that he wasn't begging to be freed.
He had no doubt that Merry could hear his voice, somewhat muffled from within
the tree, but he hoped as he couldn't tell Merry's words apart, the other hobbit
would do the same.
Pippin
The first thing that came out of Frodo's mouth was wicked and
uncalled for. Pippin narrowed his eyes and clenched the rope a little. But he
could not stay angry for it would be unfair. He too had fallen to the deceiving
guiles of that insatiable gardener and now Frodo had too. He could find it in
his heart to forgive his cousin if he ever hoped Merry to find it in his heart
to forgive him... Merry's golden noble heart... Merry's merciful but stern
heart... Dear Merry....
Pippin blinked himself out of his reverie to hear Frodo acquiesce. His heart
leapt for joy. Perhaps this family can be saved. Perhaps his folly was not a
permanent sever in the cord of Merry's love. Oh but Merry could fix anything and
everything given time. This Pippin was
sure of. His dear Merry. His dear dear sweet Merry. He had only to do what was
asked of him. Only to obey Merry's orders quickly and surely and he was sure
he'd be rectified. By that piece of rope he could repent, he knew it. And then
Peregrin Took would show one and all that
he was no childish wretch. One and All and Meriadoc Brandybuck to boot! The one
who really mattered. The one opinion... the one satisfaction in the world that
would make the young impressionable heart burst with joy. Meriadoc Brandybuck.
The name itself sounded
like immovable steel and tasted like golden honey. His Merry... once he earned
him. Once he earned everything!
He was trembling with joy. Pippin felt nearly giddy with the sweetness of it
all. Now they would soon save Sam and haul him and their dearest Frodo back
where they would be happy. Where Sam would see the folly of his ways and settle
into his garden... his garden... gardening all
day long just for the joy of it. And Frodo would watch and sit in the garden
reading and conversing with Sam... laughing like he used to. And Pippin...
Pippin would share a bed with the one he desired above all else. And all
would be set to right. All would be joyous and lovely and sweet.
If only this bitterness was over and done with.
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