Root
by Lullenny
email: gutter2stars @ yahoo.com

Notes: Thanks to dana for the fic-idea-chat.

*


As he tried to sleep Merry thought about the broken carrot.  It 
was a mundane thing, a carrot, and never had he considered 
carrots or any other root vegetables beyond how they graced his 
lunch or dinner (or supper), but as he held his eyes closed 
against the light of the hearth fire the carrot and its demise 
was all he could think about.  

He remembered the sudden push out of Farmer Maggot's field, 
tumbling down the scarp, and the meaty snap that he felt from 
knees to skull.  For one awful moment, he thought he really had 
broken something, and waited for a specific and sharp pain to 
announce itself from among the bruises and scrapes.  The snapping 
of a carrot was a very odd thought to revisit as he tried to 
relax and sleep, especially after long days of hardship and 
danger, but there it was vivid under his skin, as if he had just 
fallen, even while he lay sandwiched between Pippin and Sam in an 
oversized bed in Bree. 

Pippin was asleep.  He had dropped off first, curled on one side 
of the bed with his hand tucked neatly beneath the pillow just 
under his ear; Merry glanced to his left and saw the crown of 
Pippin's head, still.  On Merry's other side Sam snored.  Frodo 
had stretched out along the foot of the long bed, so far away 
that Merry couldn't feel him even when he stretched out his toes.  
Frodo occasionally sighed, though, so Merry knew he was awake, 
but Strider's silent presence by the door daunted Merry, and he 
didn't dare say anything.  Merry again closed his eyes and tried 
to sleep. 

He no longer had the carrot, of course, just as he did not have 
the bag of mushrooms: he had thrown the mushrooms to distract the 
Black Rider and much later, huddled cold and wet in a hollow 
tree, the hobbits had eaten the rest of Maggot's liberated 
produce that survived their dash to Buckleberry Ferry.  Pippin 
still had some cabbage leaves shoved down his jacket and radishes 
in his pockets, and Merry found apples and an ear of corn in his.  

When Maggot found them in his garden, Merry had been hidden 
behind the beans on their poles, settled on his knees as he 
brandished the biggest carrot he'd ever seen.  Pippin laughed at 
him, his arms as full of tender ripe vegetables as his face was 
full of affection.  To Merry's eyes he looked like the richest 
hobbit in the Shire.  At Maggot's first bellow Pippin started, 
shocked and blushing, as if Merry had not been on his knees for 
the harvesting of carrots.  And then he pulled Merry to his feet, 
spilling some of the take into the lush garden dirt, and they 
ran. 

As the angered farmer chased them out of his garden, Merry made 
lewd jokes to Pippin about the carrot while they ran through the 
corn, making Pippin laugh when he knew they both needed their 
breath to run: Maggot was quick on his feet for someone fast 
approaching crotchety old gaffer-hood.  But laugh Pippin did, 
even as he gasped and ran; he laughed because Merry made him 
laugh.  

Chill air pressed in from the window.  A draft blew under the 
door.  Merry squirmed closer to Pippin until they were back-to-
back, sharing heat under the covers.  He wanted to spoon close 
and warm his cold nose on the back of Pippin's neck, but Strider 
still sat silently in a corner, smoking, and his eyes gleamed in 
the shadows.  Merry slowly rolled into sleep, but uneasy dreams 
of sinister riders all in black followed him.  

Thin, evil screams woke him.  Merry sat up as Sam and Pippin did, 
gasping in surprise.  Frodo sat at the end of the bed; he was 
alert and poised and Merry knew he had not slept.  Aragorn told 
them of the Nazgul.  Slowly, slowly, a tense silence returned, 
and the hobbits tucked under to rest once more, all of them sure 
they would not sleep again this night.  Merry rolled close to 
Pippin, and Pippin allowed it; he turned over to face Merry, put 
his mouth to Merry's ear and asked, "Are you scared?" 

Merry nodded.  

"I can't imagine I'll sleep for a week."  

"I wish we'd kept the carrot."

Pippin said nothing for a long moment, and then, "The really big 
carrot you stole from Maggot?" 

"Yes, that one."

"Why ever for?"

Honestly, Merry didn't know why he wanted the carrot, nor was he 
quite sure why he confessed so to Pippin, but he said, "I could 
poke you with it during the night to distract myself from being 
scared." 

"Oh, fine, distract yourself at my expense," retorted Pippin.  
Sam cleared his throat and turned.  Pippin continued, this time 
pressing his lips to Merry's ear in a near-breathless whisper.  
"Besides, it was ruined when we fell, and then we lost it." 

"Yes," said Merry sadly, "we did." 

"You've gone spare, Merry," replied Pippin, though not unkindly.  
He seemed not to care that Strider watched over them all on the 
bed and settled his head onto Merry's shoulder, though when he 
kissed Merry, he pressed it with dry lips chastely on Merry's 
cheek.   

The firewood snapped and popped; the wind blew stronger, pulling 
a harder draft so the fire roared softly.  It was a lonely sound 
in that tall room, though not so odd as the remembered thick 
crack of a broken carrot.  When Merry and his friends had huddled 
in the hollow tree, their eyes wide as they listened for the 
sound of horsemen, they had eaten raw corn and cabbage, sour 
apples and radishes.  In bed, Merry touched his cheek where he'd 
been kissed and wondered how long they would have to go without 
the taste of sweet Shire carrots and other things.

*