An Autumn Interlude, Part II: Reminding
"You look so harmless when you're asleep."
Merry yawned and rolled over. He found himself staring up into a pair
of familiar hazel-green eyes, and wondered fleetingly why he hadn't
started bolting his bedroom door.
"What're you doing here? How did you get--"
"Merry-love, you sleep like a rock," Everard assured him, tugging the
covers down and slipping into bed beside his cousin. He nuzzled Merry's
cheek before planting a soft kiss there.
Merry yawned again, rolled over, and buried his face in the pillow. "If
I don't have to be up yet, then I suggest you just...just...Ev,
what--"
Everard chuckled and pinched Merry's side again. "The apples, or have
you forgotten?"
"Oh, picking. Well, maybe I've decided it won't be any fun."
"Nothing's fun for you unless it's not planned."
Merry shrugged. "Maybe. This was terribly planned,
unfortunately."
"You'll have plenty of chances to steal a few, I'm sure," Everard said,
tugging Merry to face him. "Besides, it's for your Da's grand to-do, isn't
it? You'll be eatin' them regardless. In pie. Oh, come here, you--"
"I'm not awake yet." Merry hid in his pillow again.
"You're talking." Everard ran his fingers down Merry's back in a gentle
sweep. "And besides, up at the pool last week, you didn't terribly mind me
waking--"
"I mind now," Merry snapped, scooting away. "It's what you did after
that I minded."
"If I hadn't spotted him and told him to get down from there, he
might've fallen--"
"You weren't very kind about it."
Everard groaned. "Merry, he was spying."
Merry rolled over and jabbed a finger to Everard's chest. "We
got ideas by spying."
"He's too young to get ideas."
"He has four sisters with lads in and out more often than Mum dips her
crackers at tea. He's seen worse," Merry said, allowing his forehead to
drop to Everard's shoulder. "I just...Why are you so hard on Pip?
He gets into everything and it's a terrible nuisance, yes, but he hasn't
got many places to fit in, and if we don't take him, then--"
Everard kissed Merry's earlobe. "Shh--"
Merry pushed at his shoulder. "Ev."
Everard sighed and rolled away, but not before brushing his fingers
through Merry's curls. "I'm sorry. I suppose I don't know a second chance
when I see one."
"Ten minutes," Merry grumbled. "I'll be up." He closed his eyes until
he heard the door close, then sprawled on his back and stared at the
ceiling.
You had better learn to before it's too late.
* * *
"Merry, dear, come down from here this instant. You'll take a fall
before the day's out, for pity's sake. Your head's worse in the clouds
today than Frodo's ever was."
"I'm fine, Mum," Merry grumbled, plucking another of the firm,
green-washed apples. He liked this sort. They didn't particularly match at
all, and they were certainly more interesting than straight reds and
golds.
"Tell it to Pip when he arrives tomorrow and you're laid up with a
sprain, or worse!" Esmerelda called and went back to her own knocking
apples down with the flat side of a rake.
"I won't be. I'll be keeping him from getting a sprain,
or worse." Far worse. Last year, Paladin had permitted Pippin to
help with the picking. By all accounts, after a fall like that, Pippin was
fortunate to maintain a general fearlessness of heights. They hadn't even
seen him climb the sapling at the far end of the orchard, but they
had heard him scream. Since then, he'd moved on to more challenging
targets, and with stunning success.
"I'll help. I promise," Everard said from below, scanning the ground
for fallen apples free of any rot.
"I'm sure you will," Merry said dryly, and pondered taking a bite of
his most recent pluck.
"Meriadoc, don't you dare."
"Of course not, Mum."
The morning progressed rather quietly from that point on; by then,
miscellaneous other Brandybucks and visiting relatives had joined the
fray. Once Merry had finished scouring the general vicinity of the branch
he was perched upon, he slid down a bit lower and chose an apple smaller
than most, not quite ripe. It hit Everard squarely where he had intended
it.
"Augh! Merry, you get down--"
"No," Merry replied, grinning as he pulled himself carefully back up to
where he'd been. He sat and smirked down at Everard's indignant glare,
trying not to laugh.
"Just what do you think you're--"
"Get up here."
Everard's face softened, and within a minute or two, he was more or
less level with Merry, but a bit winded.
"You don't practice enough," Merry accused, picking a leaf out of his
hair.
"You practice too much," Everard countered, brushing a few out of
Merry's. "You'll have to grow up sooner or--"
Merry burst into laughter. "Oh, cousin, with Pip growing up, I don't
see as I have much choice! Who else will keep up with--"
Everard tilted his head. "Did you bring me up here to discuss--"
"I did," Merry said casually, "and it would work a lot better if we
stopped cutting each other to the quick."
Everard leaned forward against his branch, resting his chin on his
forearm. "Merry, I really don't see where mentioning him ever gets us,
other than into disagreements. And heaven knows, disagreements aren't good
for..."
"No," Merry agreed softly. But that's what I want to...wanted
to...talk about, too. Oh, he couldn't say the words. Not yet. What if
he was just being foolish? What if all of this was just a temporary--well,
uncertainty. Merry more than liked Everard, he knew that much. Otherwise,
he wouldn't... Merry caught the onset of a blush. Sometimes, he supposed
he might love him. Then again, sometimes--
"Promise me he won't get in the way of everything?" Everard asked
earnestly.
Merry frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Will I have you to myself at all? Last week at the Smials, we
hardly--"
"You had me the whole trip here, and for the last few days besides,"
Merry pointed out, tucking the leaf right back where it had been.
Everard sighed, "Well, I mean...all right. At the dance,
mostly."
"Pip's not much for dancing. Vinca will keep him."
"I hope so," Everard said, glancing down to make Esmerelda wasn't
looking before he leaned to kiss Merry's cheek. "I'm still sorry about--"
"Oh, be quiet. You apologize too much, sometimes." Merry pressed a
quick kiss to Everard's chin.
"I suppose I do."
Merry nodded and leaned against his own branch, drinking in the breeze
as he thought, And not enough when it matters.
* * *
Pervinca tapped on the bedroom door impatiently. "Pippin, are you
packing?"
"No." The boy's response was muffled.
"What are you doing, then? Mum says she told you to pack."
"I can't find something!" Pippin shouted in exasperation. "Go away!"
Pervinca tapped the door again, in rhythm with her words.
"I--could--help--you."
"No."
"Why not?"
"You don't know what it looks like."
"I don't even know what it is," Pervinca said. "It would help if you
told me."
"Liar."
Pervinca blinked. "What?"
"Liar." Pippin sounded wretched.
"Pip, how can I be--"
"You've seen it."
"Then, let me help--"
"No! Go away!"
Pervinca shrugged and turned away. "I will. I have my own packing to
do."
* * *
"You do that," Pippin muttered, shoving his half-packed bag off the
bed.
He wasn't leaving there without it. He wasn't. He had wanted to
show Merry what he'd done, that evening all those weeks and weeks ago, but
he had fallen asleep. He hated that. When he woke up, he wasn't by the
pond with Vinca anymore, and the music was almost over. He was stuck
tucked up in stuffy Estella's arms, and he could remembered seeing Merry
and Vinca sitting not too far away, heads bent, talking under the quiet
sounds drifting up from the stage. That made him angry. Merry was ignoring
him. He had squirmed out of Estella's arms and taken off again, and by the
time he reached the pond and haphazardly shoved a bit of broken willow in
his pocket, she'd caught up and grabbed him and hauled him back. Pippin
hoped that he'd said nasty enough things. Merry would have been proud, but
he didn't particularly care. Merry was ignoring him, after all.
Pippin picked his bag back up and set it to rights, shoving the things
that he had pulled from his drawers carelessly back into it. Well, no.
Merry wasn't ignoring him all the time. Merry had wanted to pay
attention last week while he was up that tree watching him do with Everard
what he'd seen Freddy and Folco doing in a tent, but Everard had yelled at
him and made him come down. Pippin didn't like Everard, no, not at
all. Everard wasn't nice to him. Everard was nice to Merry, though,
it seemed--maybe too nice. Merry got mad at him sometimes. That
must mean...
Pippin dropped to his knees and swept his hand under the edge of his
bed one more time. If it had somehow fallen out from under his mattress,
then it couldn't have gone anywhere. Not unless his Mum had found it and
thrown it out--
Something rustled against Pippin's fingers. He jumped back and then
made another quick grab. It felt all dry and rattly, now, but there it
was, in his hand.
The piece of hair he'd tied into it was still there. And if Merry would
tie some there, too, then maybe, just maybe, Pippin's spell would work and
Everard wouldn't be mean or nice to Merry anymore. And maybe, just
maybe, Merry would stop ignoring him. Would stop...
Pippin stuffed the willow sprig in his pocket and crawled up onto the
bed. He burrowed in his pillows and shivered.
Would stop growing up.
* * *
"You said all four of us would be going?" Fredegar Bolger asked,
swilling his ale uncertainly. He glanced sidelong at Folco Boffin, who was
listening to Frodo most attentively.
"Yes, I did," Frodo replied, grinning. "I wasn't about to give you the
chance to refuse."
"Didn't give me none, neither," Sam said with a firm nod and took a
swig of his ale. Freddy and Folco laughed while Frodo lowered his eyes and
dealt out some sort of retaliation under the table. Sam jumped and
spluttered. "Well, begging your pardon, s'true!"
"You wouldn't have," Frodo said softly, an affectionate smile playing
at his lips. Sam was smiling right back, and Freddy fancied he could
imagine their fingers linked on the bench between them.
"That settles it," Folco said. "We're all four of us going, and neither
Gamgee, nor Bolger may refuse." He chuckled and raised his mug high.
"Hear!" Frodo said, raising his own. Sam was quick to raise his mug,
too.
Freddy hesitated and asked, "Will Bilbo be along?"
"No, no," Frodo reassured him. "He's expecting company next week or
thereabouts. He wouldn't dream of leaving Bag End, not when--"
"Gandalf," Sam muttered to no one in particular. Frodo touched his
shoulder briefly, soothingly.
"Well, no fire-cracking wizard shall say us nay, either," Folco
continued cheerfully. "Freddy, what say you?"
Freddy raised his glass with a sigh and cracked them all a smile. "I'm
in."
They drank a hearty toast, and it wasn't till afterward when Frodo and
Sam were caught in their own talk again that Folco leaned and whispered
with a grin, "You had better be."
Freddy glanced at Folco sidelong, swilled his ale around with a half
smile. "Only for you. Those Bucklanders make me nervous. Suppose the
dancing's got some wild custom involved, or..." Freddy set his ale down
and spread his hands, at a loss for words.
"Well, if it involves shedding a bit of cloth for each step you miss,
I'll have a fair sight on my hands by midnight. Oh, Fred, lighten up!"
Which was a difficult thing not to do when his Folco had slid an
arm around him, and it was all right, oh, more than all right, because
Frodo caught it out of the corner of his eye and smiled at his Sam all the
wider.
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