Time to Make a Change
“Théoden
King, Théoden King! Farewell! As a father you were to me, for a little while.”
- The
Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, “Many Partings”
“Meriadoc,
called the Magnificent, becomes Master of Buckland. Great gifts are sent to him
by King Éomer and the Lady Éowyn of Ithilien.”
- The
Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, “Appendix B – The Tale of Years”
4: Master of Buckland (Saradoc Brandybuck)
Meriadoc
Brandybuck often wondered if turning fifty would have any profound effect on
his life. After all, fifty had been the age that both Bilbo and Frodo Baggins
had embarked on their adventures. Peregrin Took was always quick to point out
that Merry’s life had become quite more exciting a long time before he
turned fifty.
But
the age of fifty would bring change to Meriadoc’s life, just not in the way he
expected (or, perhaps, hoped for). On the day of his actual birthday, Merry was
given his title. It had been tradition in the Brandybuck family for the Master
(or future Master) of Buckland to be given a title. Merry’s father, Saradoc had
been named “Scattergold”, for his grand generosity. Rorimac “Goldfather” had
been named for almost the opposite, for his shrewd business manner, and before
him, Gorbadoc “Broadbelt” had been famous for his feasts, and his love for his
own food.
Meriadoc
was given the title of “the Magnificent”, for a great many reasons. Firstly,
his family recognised the great things he had done on his “adventure”. He was
the Knight of a distant land, something only his cousin Pippin alone had
equalled. Then, of course, there was his involvement in the Battle of Bywater
and the freeing of the Shire from Sharkey’s rule. Merry (along with Pippin,
once more) had beaten Bullroarer Took in height, an incredible feat (though
rumour had it, he had acquired assistance in this. Some form of outlandish
potion was the general belief). It seemed only fitting for a hobbit of such
grand stature to wear lordly clothes, and Merry’s mail-shirt was certainly
that.
A
lesser reason for his title came from Merry’s younger friends. Both he and
Pippin had become quite famous for the parties they held at Crickhollow. Even
after they had both married (and now, Peregrin had a son), the parties
continued, and they were no less wonderful. One such party was held after the
Title ceremony. Neither Merry nor Pippin remembered much of that party.
Sam
and Rose Gamgee had been unable to attend the birthday party at Crickhollow,
due to the imminent birth of their seventh child. Rose was due any day, and
they thought it unwise to travel, even to Buckland. Merry was, however, not
going to leave one of his closest friends out of the celebrations, so a week
after the actual birthday, Merry and Pippin, along with Estella, Diamond and
Faramir, travelled to Hobbiton and had another party for Merry’s birthday
(though this one was far less grand).
Their
stay at Bag-End was extended when the newest Gamgee child decided that he
wanted to join in whatever fun his family was involved in. Little Hamfast
Gamgee was born on the twenty-ninth of April, 1432.
Merry,
Pippin and their families finally made their way back to Buckland. They took it
fairly slow, but Merry could not help but feel anxious. There was something in
his heart telling him to return home.
Night
was beginning to fall as their carriage drew up to the West-Gate of Buckland.
The hobbit on duty looked up at them and started.
“Oh,
Master Merry!” he cried. “You’re back.”
“Yes,”
Merry replied, somewhat confused.
“Begging
your pardon, sir, but I think you should head to Brandy Hall.”
“I
did plan to, but…”
“Sorry,
sir, it’s not my place to explain.”
Merry
looked upon the hobbit in complete confusion. He glanced at Estella and Pippin,
both of whom, simply shrugged. Merry muttered his thanks and urged the pony
onwards. His feeling of anxiety had now very much increased.
A
message must have been sent from the Gates to the Hall, though Merry and his
companions saw no one take it, for Merry’s cousin Berilac was waiting for them
at the entrance. With him stood his wife, Pippin’s sister, Pimpernel. Both had
grave looks on their faces. Merry assisted his wife from their carriage, before
making his way to the door of Brandy Hall.
“Hullo,
Berry,” he greeted, almost hesitantly.
“Welcome
home, Master of Buckland,” Berilac returned, in an almost emotionless voice.
Merry’s
eyes widened. He searched Berry’s face for any trace of fallacy, despite
knowing that there was no way Berilac could lie about this. Not finding what he
searched for, Merry pushed his way passed Berry and Pimpernel and into the
Hall. He ran straight to his father’s room. Merry’s mother, Esmeralda, had
passed away a few years back. Merry had been distraught – his mother had always
been one of his closest friends. Fortunately, his father had been there to
share the pain. But Berry’s words had brought a new wave of grief. Master of
Buckland…
The
room was empty. Fighting back tears, Merry continued through Brandy Hall,
vaguely aware of the sounds of his cousins and family following him. Someone
called him name, but he could not figure out who the voice belonged to. Pimpernel,
or Diamond? Merry was making his way to his most hated room of Brandy Hall.
Being so large and with so many inhabitants, Brandy Hall had its own mortuary.
It had always been a favourite pastime of young Brandybucks to dare one other
to go inside. Merry had been unfortunate enough to have entered the room and
see his grandmother’s body waiting for burial. Since then, he had always
avoided the mortuary, but now he knew it was where he needed to go.
The
door creaked open, and Merry stared inside. A coffin sat in the centre of the
room. He slowly edged towards it and peered into it. There lay Saradoc
Brandybuck, as if in a peaceful sleep.
From
behind him, Merry could just hear a hushed argument between his cousins.
“You
could have thought of a better way to tell him!” Pippin’s voice hissed.
“What
do you suggest I should have said, Peregrin?” Berilac returned. “‘Welcome home,
Merry. And by the way, your dad’s dead’?”
But
the voices soon faded away as other noises filled Merry’s ears. He heard horns
blowing, and the desperate cries of the dying. In the distance, he could hear
the strange calls of the mûmakil. The stench of death wafted into his
nostrils and seemed to surround him. Looking upon Saradoc, he no longer saw the
coffin of oak. Instead, he saw Saradoc dressed in the livery of Rohan. A white
horse lay on top of him, but it then rolled away. Merry cried in pain as his
right arm chilled and went numb. He stumbled towards his father.
Merry
started sobbing. No, not again! He did not want to face this again. Saradoc no
longer looked like Merry’s father. He had completely changed into Théoden,
former King of Rohan. His elderly face was twisted in pain, but his eyes shone
brightly.
“Never
shall I sit with you in Meduseld, as I promised, or listen to your herb-lore.”
Amidst
his tears, Merry finally found his voice. “No, not again! I don’t want to lose
him again!”
Behind
him, Merry’s family looked upon him in concern. They saw none of what Merry
had. Only one of them understood what Merry was going through. Pippin shook his
head, pitifully, knowing that his beloved cousin was reliving the events of the
Pelennor Fields. Estella must have seen the look of understanding on Pippin’s
face, because she turned to him.
“Peregrin!
What’s wrong with him?” she cried.
Pippin
did not know where to begin. They had told their wives of the adventure, but
for the most part, the painful and difficult parts had been omitted. The
cruelty of the Uruk-hai, the battle on the Fields of the Pelennor, the Pyre of
Denethor – these were the memories that Merry and Pippin kept to themselves,
and the memories that haunted their dreams.
“This
isn’t the first time Merry has lost his father,” Pippin said at length, and he
said no more.
Estella
looked away from Pippin and ran to her husband. She cried out. Merry had fallen
to the floor, holding his right arm against him. When she touched it, it was
icy cold.
“Gandalf?
Where is Gandalf? Pippin!” Merry cried, then he fainted.
* *
* * * *
When
Merry woke, he half expected to be in the Houses of Healing. But he was not. He
was in a room in Brandy Hall. His own childhood room, he realised, as he saw
the portrait on the wall of himself and his Took cousins. Someone was holding
his right arm. Merry was thankful to realise that the feeling had returned to it,
and it was no longer cold.
“Merry?
Are you awake?” asked Estella.
“Stella?”
he murmured.
“Yes,
my love, I am here. You gave us quite a scare, Meriadoc.”
“Pip?”
Estella
smiled. Both she and Diamond had known, when they wed their respective husbands,
there were something that they could not comfort them for. There were some
times when Merry or Pippin needed one another. Merry had just given them all
another example of the more painful moments of their journey.
“Yes,
Pippin is here too.”
“Decided
to join us, again, have you Meriadoc?” Pippin said, trying to be light-hearted.
“Oh,
Pippin. I…I was…” Merry stammered, new tears spilling from his eyes.
“You
were back on the Pelennor Fields. I know. It’s happened to me too. You know I
can’t stand to have a blanket over my face, and the site of a house burning
makes me retch.” Pippin managed a smile. “But you are back with us now.”
“But,
it was as clear as day. Everything! The smell, the sounds, Théoden…”
“I
know, Merry. It always is. Here, drink this.”
Merry
allowed Pippin to place a mug to his lips. The cool water felt good as it slid
down his throat. At last, he felt himself one more. He looked over to where
Berilac and Pimpernel were hovering at the end of the bed.
“Why
didn’t you send word to me?” he asked, in a quiet voice.
“If
you had not returned today, we probably would have,” Berry replied. “He passed
away only three days ago.”
“But
I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye!”
“Nobody
did,” said Pimpernel. “He must have died in his sleep. Berry noticed that he
hadn’t arrived for breakfast. When we checked his room, he looked to be asleep,
but he did not wake.”
Merry
just nodded. So that was the end for Saradoc Brandybuck. No glory in battle,
just a peaceful never-ending sleep. Merry shook his head. Perhaps he had not
left his dream completely yet. He had been thinking of his father like he was a
great captain of the West.
“We
waited for you to return before holding the funeral,” Berilac continued. “If
you are not well, we can postpone it for longer.”
“No,
no, I am fine,” Merry said, sitting up as if to prove his point. “I just need
some rest. Can we stay at Crickhollow for tonight.”
Once
they were convinced that Merry was well enough to travel (even such a short
distance), Merry, Pippin and their families returned to Crickhollow. Merry ate
little for dinner, and even less for supper. He excused himself from the table
and headed to bed. On the way, he noticed a bundle of letters that must have
arrived while they had been in Hobbiton.
“Mail’s
here!” he called. He flicked through the letters, taking those addressed to
him. The last letter he found bore the seal of the Mark. Forgetting the rest of
the letters, Merry went to his study.
He tore
the letter open, though he knew exactly who it was from. The firm, but messy
script on the envelope could only belong to one person.
Dearest
Meriadoc,
It
has been far too long since we last wrote to each other! I have often found
myself anxious to hear word of the Shire, even if it is only to tell me that
all is peaceful and perfect.
As I write, I sit in my room at Edoras, having taken Meriwyn, Éohir and Peregond to visit their uncle. Peregond has recently started speaking. Your cousin may be pleased to know that one of little Peregond’s first words was “Pippin”, so he has also inherited that nickname! My nephew, Elfwine, is trying his best to corrupt Éohir. I don’t have the heart to tell that all of my children have already been corrupted by you and Peregrin!
And
what of you? Is your home yet filled with the laughter of children? By that, I
mean your own. How goes Peregrin’s young lad? Faramir is still honoured that
the future Thain of the Shire has been named after him!
Alas,
I am afraid I must leave now. I hear the distant sound of my son’s cries. I
dread to think what his cousin and brother have done to him. I hope this letter
finds you well.
Your
loving friend,
Lady
Éowyn of Ithilien
(Éomer also asked me to extend his best wishes)
A sad
smile graced Merry’s lips. Completely forgetting that he needed rest, he took
out pen and paper, and started writing.
Dearest
Éowyn,
* *
* * * *
Merry
settled into the seat of his desk. His desk. He was still having
difficulty accepting that he was really the Master of Buckland. It had
been almost a month since Saradoc had died, and it had taken that long for
Merry to be officially named the Master. He and Estella had moved back into
Brandy Hall, and Peregrin was in the process of moving back to Tookland.
He
heard a soft knock at the door. “Yes?”
Berilac
and Pimpernel’s daughter, Garnet, peeped inside. She was carrying a very large
box, and seemed to be having some difficulty. “Uncle Merry, this came for you.”
Merry
walked over and took the box from the lass. “Thank you, Garnet.”
Garnet
curtsied and left. Merry looked at the box, finding a letter on the top. He
tore the letter off. The seal of Rohan was once again on it.
Dearest
Meriadoc,
Our
deepest sympathy for your loss. We both understand the pain of losing a father.
And having to experience that pain twice. Your father’s memory will live on as
long as you do not forget it.
We
also wish to congratulate you on becoming the Master of Buckland. Both Éomer
and Faramir certainly know the bittersweet feeling of inheriting such a title.
We hope that you shall accept the gifts we have sent with this letter.
Once
again, congratulations, Meriadoc the Magnificent, Master of Buckland.
Your
loving friends,
Merry
looked inside the box and smiled.
* *
* * * *
A/N:
This was probably the longest so far, but I knew I had to involve Merry’s
experience with Théoden. Pippin comes next.