The Unlikely Ones
Chapter One: Letting Go
a Lord of the Rings fanfiction
by Van Donovan
joy@crackerboxpalace.com

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Notes: This is a sort of strange story, set 25 years or so after the end of Return of the King. As so the entire story is somewhat of a gigantic spoiler. This is not to be considered an alternate ending story. I have tried to stick to accuracy as far as possible, but if you notice anything amiss, please let me know.
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A faint knock sounded on the large round door that opened up into the hole of Bag End, and although it was faint, it was anticipated and so the door opened from the inside. Merry stood there looking in but his eyes did not seem to see. Outside the drizzle of rain showered down, and the hobbit standing before the door was wet and cold looking with his coils of curls pressed into flat spirals on his brow and his eyes were dark and haunted, as though he had not slept in far too long. He wore a heavy pack that was as drenched as he was and his bare feet were black with mud. "Merry." It was Sam who had opened the door, and the look of his dear friend tore at his heart. He stepped out and put his hand on his friends shoulder, guiding him inside the warmth of Bag End.
Rose stood down the hall and came forward with a flurry of skirts and pity in her eyes. She didn't mind Merry's wet state or the mud about him as she took him into a warm embrace. Merry closed his eyes and held her back for a moment and when they pulled away he smiled sadly at the tears that glistened in her eyes. Sam took Merry's wet pack from him and his coat and Rose lead him into the main room and sat him before the fire. Frodo came and brought him a blanket he had been warming, draping it over his shoulders, and young Rose brought him hot tea, which he took with steady hands. "Thank you," he murmured and sipped it, closing his eyes as he did.
Sam entered the main hall and ushered his children out, for he wanted to speak to Merry alone. Rose followed Sam, looking on in sadness as her husband crossed the floor and sat beside his old friend. "I've heated the bath for you, and have a change of clothes," he quietly said and Merry nodded, but did not answer. "We'll have dinner in a hour or so, but if you'd like to sup alone, no one will mind."
Merry looked to Sam, and his eyes finally seemed to have a little life in them as he took in the old face of his dear friend. "I didn't come all this way to be alone," he said with the faintest traces of a smile. He sat his tea down on the table and rose up. "Show me to the bath, and I will join you all for supper." Sam nodded and smiled softly back and led Merry down the hall, deeper into Bag End. He stopped before one of the rooms closest to the main hall and opened the door. There was one bed inside and the sorts of things that appeared to be young hobbits' things. "Frodo is staying with little Merry and Pippin while you're here," Sam said, entering the room where Rose had already brought the older hobbit's pack to. "So this is where you'll be staying."
Merry nodded, looking around the room. Normally he would have felt guilty usurping the room of the eldest son, but these weren't normal circumstances. "Thank you."
"And the bathroom is this way," Sam added, leading Merry out of the room and down the hall. The bathroom was filled with steam and mist and it was warm and wet. "Go on in and make yourself comfortable, and I'll bring some dry clothes for you to change into." Merry nodded and Sam turned to leave but Merry's arm caught him before he could.
Their eyes met and Sam smiled tightly at him, raised a hand and touched Merry's cheek. Merry smiled faintly at the touch and raised his hand too take Sam's hand in his. "Thank you for everything Sam," he said and released the older hobbit. Sam stood there a moment then nodded and departed, leaving Merry to bathe.

An hour later, Merry, feeling very much better filed into the dining room. It was quite a sight seeing the fifteen of them lined up at the big table in two large columns. Sam sat at the head with Rose on his left and Frodo on his right and seven seats filed down the table before him. Beside Frodo was an empty chair, Merry assumed was for him and the rest of the children in age order filled in the rest of the seats. Beside Rose sat the younger Rose with a baby in her lap, who Merry supposed was little Tolman, the thirteenth of the Gamgee children and one he had not seen since he was a baby. Tolman looked about two and certainly too big for pretty Rose's lap, but if one child had not giving up their seat then Merry would have had to stand.
Fourteen sets of eyes turned to look at him as he entered into the room. "Quite the warm welcome I do say," he said and crossed the room enjoying the soft laughter and babbling of the many children before him. The room smelled heavy with aromas and Merry realized how hungry he was as he sat down. To his right he had little Rose and across the mother Rose and Tom and before him was heaped great many plates of food. They began to eat, and there was much coming and going from the table as seconds and thirds were brought and taken and by the time dessert had come Merry felt he should explode.
"Was the journey hard?" one young voice asked and Merry's eyes scanned the children before him finding the one who had voiced the inquiry. It was none other than his own namesake and so he smiled, for little Merry was quite a handsome hobbit and although he did not quite yet look in his twenties, he was showing signs of how dashing he'd look when he reached them.
"It was not too bad, although it rained the whole time," he answered simply.
"Did you ride a pony?" came another voice and Merry leaned forward for this time it was little Pippin asking and he was to Merry's right, past little Rose.
"I did Pippin," he said looking down at the younger hobbit son, "but I left him in Bywater for he was only borrowed." Pippin looked both excited and crestfallen at the news.
"How is the weather in Buckland Uncle Brandybuck?" Young Rose asked, her voice soft and sweet and too mature for her young age.
"Oh, just call me 'Merry' please, Rose," he said with a smile and sighed for he was already feeling better in the company of so many people who admired and cared about him, and the hot bath had done his weary bones good. "Still, the weather in Buckland is as wet as it is here in Hobbiton."
"Let's leave dear Merry alone for now, and let him eat his supper," mother Rose said with a smile and while some of the children protested Merry nodded his thanks and set about eating happily. By the time the meal was done, the younger children were ushered off to bed. Tolman had fallen asleep in Rose's arms and she had put him to bed. Ruby and Robin had both nodded off early on as well and only stayed for dessert before retiring, and although little Bilbo did not want to go to bed, he was yawning so profusely that little Merry had to get up and carry him off.
Daisy then left with Goldilocks, to have their bath and that left Hamfast, Rose, Primrose, Pippin, Merry and Frodo at the table with Merry and Sam. "It's been a long day for Merry," Sam said, getting to his feet. "we should let him get to bed now." There was much protesting, especially from the younger ones still about, for in times past visits from 'Uncle' Merry were always met with exciting stories of Gondor and Rohan and epic battles of good and evil. "Come on boys," Sam said, and ushered little Merry, Pippin and Hamfast off. Primrose stood and smoothed her skits and crossed to Merry.
Merry looked at her curiously as the young girl studied his face. She wasn't quite ten years, but her eyes seemed to look at Merry as though they could read to his heart. She beckoned to him with her finger and he stood up. She barely came to his waist but she put her arms out as though she wanted to be hugged and Merry smiled and knelt to embrace her. She was tiny but her hug was strong and she held him for a long time. "If you get sad, you can come stay with me," she said in the sweetest of little voices. Merry let her go and stood back up, smiling. He was deeply touched and held back the twinkle of tears in his eyes.
"Thank you Primrose," he softly said and reached a hand out to pat her head of curls. "I just might." Primrose smiled at him and nodded and then ran off into the halls again, perhaps to her own room, or perhaps to bathe with her sisters.
"Dear Uncle Merry," young Rose said and Merry and Frodo looked to her as she stood. "It pains me so to see your eyes so full of sadness," she added and crossed to him, following in the steps of her younger sister she embraced him and kissed his brow. "If there is anything I can do to help you, please don't hesitate to ask." Merry held her softly and then let her go with a grateful nod. Rose wandered to the fireplace, where she sat and began to sew, working on some bit of embroidery.
Merry looked to Frodo who was the only child left by now and sighed, "I'm sorry for putting you out of your room, Frodo-lad." Frodo looked to him with a soft smile and stood.
"Don't worry about it," he said, looking up at the older hobbit before him for Merry stood at least a head taller than any one else in the Gamgee family. Sam was the tallest, and even he was considerably shorter than Merry. All the children knew the tale of the Ent Draught that Merry and his cousin Pippin had drunk that had so increased their size and although Frodo knew once Merry had been as short as he, he had never been alive to see it, so he was always in awe at Merry's height. He glanced about the room and opened his mouth as if he were going to say something when Sam came back in.
"Are you bothering Merry, Frodo?" he asked in his light voice and Frodo knew he was teasing.
"No father," he said and backed away from Merry a bit, "just bidding him goodnight." And with that Frodo smiled at Merry and said, "Goodnight."
"Goodnight Frodo-lad."
Frodo stood there a moment longer, simply looking, then turned down the hall. He started to go into Merry's room, which was really his own, then turned back around and moved further down the hall to where his little brothers room was.
"I don't know how you can be Mayor and keep this brood," Merry said with a wry smile at Sam. Sam chuckled and shook his head, gathering plates off the table. Merry took notice and helped and soon they were washing them all in the kitchen.
"It's easier now that the older ones can help out. Rose is such a dear, although I do miss Elanor something fierce," Sam said softly, scrubbing away, for his eldest had been serving as the Queen Evenstar's handmaiden the past four years up in Gondor. The smell of soap soon filled the kitchen.
"Thirteen, Sam, you devil. Do you plan on anymore?"
Sam chuckled. "We didn't even plan on Tolman, but we do love him. Still, thirteen is enough for me, and I think Rosie is content." He laughed softly, then looked at the water and sobered. Merry sensed the mood change and glanced around the room. "Don't feel you're imposing, Merry," he said coolly, setting aside a plate to dry. "Frodo doesn't mind being displaced for a bit. You're welcome to stay with us in Bag End as long as you'd like."
"I know Sam," Merry replied softly, drying the dishes as Sam set them aside. "I'm not sure what I'm doing yet. Staying here for a while seems like a good idea. I hate leaving Buckland like this, but they'll do all right without me, I'm sure."
"Of course they will, Merry. And I'll send some of my council there if you need more men," Sam said softly.
"Pippin should be able to handle everything Sam, but thank you." He dried his hands on the towel as Rose entered, looking weary from the toils of the day having had to mind thirteen children but also appraisingly at the men doing the dishes. Still, she swept forward and put a hand on Merry's arm.
"Now, now, in later days you may help with the house chores if you want, dear Merry, but for tonight you've traveled long and hard and need your rest," Rose said, and smiled. He looked at her gently, then to Sam and nodded. How could he protest these two lovely people? They didn't understand how much he needed personal comfort right now, so he turned and left with a thanks and a smile and went into his room.

It was dark when he shut the door and he left the lantern unlit. His pack sat against the bed he was to sleep in, dried a little by the fire, but still damp. He moved to it and opened the flap, pulling out things in the darkness. Clothing that was wet and books he couldn't leave behind. At the bottom was a flat piece of wood wrapped tight in waterproofed leather and tied with twine about it. He moved onto the bed and brought the parcel with him. Moonlight lit the room and his eyes adjusted to the dark as his nimble fingers untied the knotted bow. The twine fell aside and he unwrapped the leather that was protecting the small portrait wrapped inside. It was done by someone with only mediocre talent, but the face painted on the canvas bore enough resemblance that it tugged Merry's heartstrings to look upon it.
Estella Bolger, not yet dead a week.
"My dear," Merry murmured to the picture, looking at the painted face and unseeing eyes sadly. They had only been married ten years before she'd fallen ill. Merry had been torn because he was Master of Buckland by then and was often needed away from home and so Estella faded. Within a year she was bedridden and Merry had asked Pippin to take over most of his duties as the Master while he took care of Estella. There were no children between them, for they always seemed to think they'd have forever; and then one cold night in January she passed away in his arms.
He had been beyond crying by that point. He had just held her until morning and then when the sun had risen he had called Pippin over and they had all set about taking care of things. Pippin had held him and hugged him and tried to make things right again, but Pippin had Diamond and Faramir to go home to and hold at night and Merry could not take comfort from his dearest of friends. Why had he wanted to spend a week or more with the Gamgee's then? They who had thirteen children when he had had none? They who had a loving deep relationship and money and happiness and security?
It was because he wanted to be surrounded with joy.
The Gamgee's had always loved his visits, both Sam and Rose and the children. They called him 'Uncle' Merry and he'd told all of them stories of their world and ones he'd made up ever since little Elanor was a baby. In a way, he felt like they were his second family, even like his own children, and he took a lot of comfort in them. Still, it had been ten years since he'd come to Bag End alone: Estella always came with him. It pained him to think that the little ones would grow up never knowing her, or unable to remember her. He shuddered and hugged himself as he sat back on the bed. It was so lonely here, even with so many people present. He choked back a sob as heavy tears dropped off his nose onto the portrait. He murmured and set it on the nightstand beside his bed and grabbed the pillow and clutched it to himself and buried his face into it as he let out all his pain and wept.
Five minutes passed when there came the faintest knock on the door. Merry held his breath suddenly, not wanting to be seen in this state by any of the members of the Gamgee family. He was going to pretend to be asleep when the door cracked open and someone slipped inside, looking around. "Merry?" It sounded like Sam, and Merry exhaled. If there was anyone who had to see him this torn apart, Sam would be the one he would choose.
"I," but his voice cracked and trembled and he couldn't say anymore.
"You're crying," the other said and crossed the space of the room easily in the dark and soon was standing before him. Merry looked away, ashamed of his lack of emotional control despite the darkness that he probably couldn't be seen anyway. "It's okay to cry," he reassured and before Merry knew it he was being pulled into strong arms and his head was resting on a soft breast and gentle hands were stroking his greying hair.
He stiffened for a moment, unable to comprehend the kindness being shown to him and then his heart trembled and he gave in, putting his arms back around those shoulders and burying his face in the warm neck and he wept. He cried until the shirt beneath his face was wet, but still the hands on his back rubbed gently and comfortingly. He wept until he could weep no more and then he just took comfort in not being alone. He didn't know how long he sat there but he knew when he was done he felt relieved and considerably better than before. He had needed to mourn for Estella and he had not let himself really do it. He wasn't over her by any means, but he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
He lifted his head finally, feeling weary and longing for sleep. "Thank you," he said softly, expecting to look up into those dark kind eyes of Sam and see gentle compassion. But it wasn't Sam who was holding him, and he stiffened realizing what he'd just done and who had been the gentle patient one holding him as he wept. "Frodo." He could tell by Frodo's soft smile that the younger hobbit had known all this time Merry had thought he was someone else. Merry pulled back, suddenly uncomfortable. He felt betrayed. "That wasn't nice, Frodo." His voice was raw, hardly a whisper.
"I couldn't let you cry alone," he simply said, in a voice too similar to his father's. Merry's brows beetled as he looked at Frodo in the darkness. Frodo was still just a tweenager, but he had a heart as noble and strong as his father's. He hadn't just let Merry cry on his shoulder because he wanted to gloat about it: he actually cared. Sam was asleep by now; he never would have come comforted Merry. There was no doubt in his own mind that the cry had helped him a lot, so why did it matter if it was Frodo or Sam who he had turned to?
Receiving no reply from Merry Frodo sighed and released the older hobbit and moved to his feet. "I'll let you sleep now," he said fondly, as though Merry were a younger sibling. He turned to go and Merry watched him with a surprised expression.
"Frodo?"
Frodo looked over his shoulder at Merry.
Merry looked at him and his expression relaxed into a peaceful one. "Thank you."
Frodo smiled at him then nodded and departed, shutting the door softly behind him.