Merrill doesn't believe in shoes (little_elf_lost) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-06-23 19:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, frodo baggins, merrill |
Who: Frodo Baggins and Merrill
What: An afternoon at the wrong beach
When: Saturday early afternoon
Where: Frodo's private beach. (Oops.)
Rating: G
Status: Complete
Merrill’s summer had been wonderful, so far. She’d met lots of new people, and spent the past few weeks visiting all sorts of nearby museums and zoos--even Disneyland! And she’d been having the most exciting dreams. Normally, she didn’t remember much from her dreams, but these were different. She’d signed up for a class on dream interpretation. She wasn’t sure she believed in all of that, but surely being open-minded wouldn’t hurt.
All of the Activities of the past two weeks had left a dent in her pocketbook. She didn’t regret them in the slightest, and things weren’t so dire that she worried about not being able to make ends meet. Still, it seemed smart to spend a day doing something less expensive. Something like an afternoon on the beach!
Merrill wasn’t new to the area--she’d lived here twenty years! She certainly had no excuse for getting as turned around as she usually did. Varric had given her a GPS, but it wanted her to be more specific than ‘beach’. It didn’t seem to like her much, and was forever recalculating. Eventually, Merrill decided she could find the beach on her own. Drive until you find water; how hard could it be?
The beach she found was very nice! Quiet, pretty and clean. She put on sunscreen--her skin was practically translucent; she’d burn to a crisp!--and walked out onto the soft, warm sand.
What Merrill didn't know was that it was a privately owned beach. But who could blame her? There weren't any fences. Just a poorly tended sign between two poles that had been a gate in a previous life. And who could blame her for setting up camp in such a lovely spot anyway. Certainly not the man who owned it. Certainly not Frodo Baggins.
At least, not on any regular day. But Merrill was about to encounter Frodo on what he would consider a bad day. He had quite a lot on his mind, not the least of which was the possibility that the girl he'd fallen head over heels for, might very well be another man's soulmate. The girl he wanted so much to love was dreaming of someone else. And even though the crap had yet to hit the fan, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.
Frodo trudged along the thin wooden path to his beach, laiden with more than a chair and a towel. His shoulders were heavy, his heart even heavier.
Merrill wasn't the sort that laid out in the sun, typically. She'd brought a book and a blanket with her, in case she got tired, but she'd come to the beach for the ocean. After she'd laid out the blanket and towel, she headed down toward the water, oblivious to any signs of trouble.
Frodo was so distracted, that it wasn’t until he came to the old gate that he spotted her. On a regular day, he would have been pleased to discover unexpected company. Today, however, Merrill was a burden at first sight. For the first time in his life, he considered invoking his rights as a landowner and telling her to get off his property. As he started down the beach, he began working out the wording of what he would say. He wasn’t even sure he was in the mood to be kind about it.
Merrill brightened when she saw someone approaching. It had been awfully quiet. That was unusual, wasn't it? Weren't beaches usually crowded? It was such a nice day.
She waved to the stranger, smiling. "Hello!" she called cheerfully. Then something stung her foot. "Ow!" Pain and numbness--somehow at the same time--shot up her leg, making it hard for her to kick. She started to panic. How could she swim? Or even tread water? She waved at the figure on the beach again, only more frantically, this time. "Help!" she called, trying to stay afloat.
Frodo had paused to put down his things. After all, he wasn’t going to have his hands full as he dealt with the interloper. He had every intention of punctuating his ire with pointing and other ‘you kids get off my lawn’-type gestures.
He ignored her first greeting, as he marched steadily down the sand. Oh she was going to get an earful. She was going to get a lot of misplaced anger.
A few seconds later, the surf and sand were spraying in every direction as he ran to save the woman’s life.
Frodo was very strong swimmer, which one might not expect, considering the manner in which his parents had died. He had his Uncle to thank for it: for taking him to the ocean on an almost daily basis, throwing him into the deep end at the swim club. Water was something to respect, not to fear. It was with very capable arms that Frodo pulled Merrill to the safety of the sand.
Merrill was shaking in Frodo’s arms, despite the warmth of the day. She'd taken quite a fright. The most danger she'd been in recently was on splash mountain. She coughed a few times, but she hadn't swallowed much water. "Thank you," she said, still a little breathless. "Thank you so much!"
She looked down at her leg. There were small, red welts around her ankle.
Frodo knelt beside her. He hadn't had any time to remove his shirt, and his sandals were lost in the water. He was dripping wet, his brown curls almost flat on his head. He brushed them out of his eyes and gingerly lifted her foot. "Looks like you stepped on a jellyfish."
"It certainly seemed to make him angry," she said, trying to wiggle her toes and wincing at the stinging pain that accompanied the movement. She looked up at her white knight with wide eyes. "I'm lucky you were here." She might have been able to swim back on her own if she'd stopped panicking. Still, maybe swimming alone wasn't the smartest idea.
Frodo lifted his gaze, looking at her directly for the first time. For a few seconds, he found himself unable to articulate his advice on what to do about the sting. He gulped to get some moisture back into his mouth. What remained of the ire he’d felt earlier began to drain out of him.
Because she might have been the most lovely woman he had ever laid eyes on.
“I’ve been stung before,” he finally said. He squinted back at the ocean. If he had any container, he would bring the water to her. But, as it was... “Do you mind?” he asked, and gestured that he would carry her if she couldn’t walk.
Merrill tilted her head, not quite sure how to interpret his expression. He looked like he was having trouble speaking. Had he been hurt, too? “Oh,” she said, following his gaze back to the ocean. She hadn’t done this before, but she was beginning to follow. “To wash it?”
She was just the slightest bit apprehensive of more jellyfish lurking in the water to pounce on her as soon as she set foot in again. But he seemed to know what he was doing. He’d certainly proven himself to be an excellent swimmer. “Are you a lifeguard?” she asked as she borrowed his hand to help her stand up.
She could put a little weight on the leg, but limped as she tried to make it back to the waves.
Frodo felt a bit guilty, though there was really no reason for it. He’d always been an admirer of beauty. Merry teased him by saying he fell a little bit in love with every woman he met. Frodo couldn’t argue. And there was something inarguably thrilling about a damsel in distress, leaning on you for support. But his heart, it still belonged to Rose.
“No, not a lifeguard,” he replied. “I actually own this little beach.” Suddenly, pointing that out didn’t feel like such a powerplay. He almost wished he hadn’t said it at all.
He washed her ankle with the foamy water, keeping his eyes peeled for jellyfish.
“Really?” So this was a private beach. Maybe there was a small flaw in her ‘Drive until you see ocean’ plan. “That’s why it was so quiet.” It had struck her as odd, but she’d mostly pushed it out of her head. Everything felt a little lonelier since she wasn’t around Vanyel and his nephew all the time.
“It’s a very nice beach,” she told him, seemingly unfazed by the declaration. “I suppose I’m not supposed to be here, then.”
Frodo sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to even think all the things he had planned to say only a few minutes ago. “Well, I don’t make it a point to keep anyone out.”
He’d purchased the beach only a few years ago. Not to keep out the world. He was not a solitary man by choice. But one too many mothers had carried their crying children away at the sight of his scars. Swimming alone seemed to be doing everyone a favor.
"That’s very kind of you," she said. Everything he'd done so far had seemed very sweet. She smiled. It was a bit precarious; him bending over, her leaning on him unsteadily while she balanced on one foot. A piece of seaweed slipped over her stable foot and she squeaked. Slimy! She grasped at Frodo's back as her feet flew out from under her.
She must have caught the back of his shirt or something. Her nails would leave a few welts at the back of his neck. Before Frodo realized it, he was in the water, quite tangled up with her. He began to stammer. “Oh. Oh my. I’m terribly sorry!”
“Oh!” Merrill had fallen ontop of Frodo, and was having a hard time pulling herself up. “Sorry, there was something on my foot..” The small piece of seaweed had ended up on her nose, and itched a bit. She giggled, untangling her legs from his. “Are you okay?”
Frodo felt his head go underwater. He held his breath, but not before swallowing more saltwater than he would have liked--which was any at all, really. He untangled himself and popped back up with a cough. Many coughs. He tried to say he was fine, or would be fine, but was too difficult. He could only give a thumbs up.
Merrill slid back so she wasn’t sitting ontop of him, and pulled his elbow to help him straighten up some. She wasn’t sure what to do. She knew some basic first aid for the classroom, and was certified in CPR, but this was a different situation. Heimlich? That didn’t seem right, either. She patted him on the back. “Please don’t die,” she instructed him.
Now Frodo was coughing and laughing. Or trying to. He was definitely smiling a little. Finally, he cleared his voice enough to speak. “You don’t have to drown me. I’m not going to prosecute you for trespassing.”
Merrill laughed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.” She picked a wet leaf off his shoulder and dropped it in the water. “Nice symmetry, though, both of us drowning.”
Frodo brushed back his hair. It was a little on the long side when it got wet. He pushed it away from his eyes. “Well, now we’re even. How’s your foot?”
She looked down at the foot. The welt seemed to have darkened some, and the pain wasn’t shooting up her leg anymore. “A little better,” she said. She could probably walk, though she wasn’t sure it would be comfortable to put her shoes back on. It could have been much worse, though.
She giggled when his hair fell back into his eyes. “You’re still a dashing hero, though,” she said, brushing his hair back again.
There is a saying: when it rains, it pours. Frodo felt he understood it very well, very suddenly.
He dared to flick away the seaweed that was still clinging to her nose. He thought about how indescribably gorgeous her eyes were.
“You have an accent. Where are you from?” he asked, awkwardly in that it was a sudden change of topic.
“Russia, originally,” she answered. “But I’ve lived in this area for years. We moved here when I was eight.” She giggled at the seaweed. She must have looked very silly. “I still get lost, though.” As she obviously was, today.
“So you train guard jellyfish,” she teased lightly. “Any other interesting hobbies?”
Frodo lifted an eyebrow. Train guard...? "Oh, you mean as a security force?" he finished aloud, a smile actually going so far as to brighten his face for the first time. And then it fell again. "Oh, no. Not really. Well, I run a few charities. I collect... things. Cars. Um..." He was being awkward again. It was so difficult to talk about money. But it was probably clear to her that he did have quite a bit, what with the private beach and all.
"What do you do?" he asked.
She didn’t seem uncomfortable with the discussion. She noticed his smile disappearing, but she wasn’t quite sure why. “Old cars?” she asked. She was interested in all sorts of historical things. “What sorts of charities?”
“I teach third grade,” she said, excitement in her tone. She loved working with children. “This beach would be a lovely place for children to play! Do you have any kids?”
Frodo shook his head. "No, no. Not yet, anyway," he said. "I mean, I'm not expecting any. I mean... maybe, someday."
He'd completely bypassed the charity question. But not on purpose. He was starting to think things out of order. And Rose's face kept popping into his mind. And the way she felt in his arms when they last kissed.
"Charities? Oh, there's the children's hospital at Irvine and a few others similar to that."
Oh, she’d made him babble. That was cute. She did her best not to laugh, though. That would’ve been rude. It’s not as though she would have meant it to be, though. She didn’t mean to tease, she just thought it was cute.
“Oh? Oh, that’s lovely,” she said of the charity. He liked kids, then, even if he didn’t have any. If she were more cynical, she might have noted that children's charities were the least offensive sorts of causes, so a safe route to go for wealthy philanthropists. Merrill didn’t have a cynical bone in her body, though.
Had Frodo been able to think, he could have clarified that a wealthy philanthropist would have a been a more accurate description of what he was. But he was very much unable to think. The more he looked at her, the farther she seemed beyond compare, and the more he missed Rose.
"Teaching third grade hasn't turned you off to children yet, has it?" God. Had he truly just asked that?
“Oh, not at all,” she said, laughing. “I love kids. They’re great! I don’t have any of my own, yet. I’d like to, someday.” She was talking an awfully lot, wasn’t she? He hadn’t asked for all that, but there it was. It only seemed fair to share, since he’d already talked about it himself. “I miss them a bit, actually, since school’s out. The past few weeks I stayed with my friend and his nephew. It was nice!” She hadn’t known Vanyel before they’d been attached to each other, but it seemed an accurate enough description, now.
"Well, I'm sure a girl like you will have plenty of offers." He was topping himself. What did that even mean? Offers for what? To father her children?
Frodo stood and started back towards the sand. "Do you think you can walk?"
Merrill blinked, tilting her head as she looked up at him. She was still smiling, though. His tone was complimentary enough, even if it was a strange thing to say. "Thank you," she replied sincerely, despite her confusion.
She stood up slowly, trying to steady herself. "I think so," she replied, putting some weight on the injured foot. That wasn't too bad.
Frodo looked over his shoulder and, seeing her hobble a bit, offered her his arm.
"I'm sorry, I'm a little distracted today. You haven't caught me at my best."
Merrill took his arm gratefully. "I think you're the one that caught me," she replied. Literally pulled her out of the ocean like a fish. "And then I nearly drowned you. So I'll try not to hold it against you." She smiled over at him.
"Would you like to talk?" she asked. They hardly knew each other, though. He probably wouldn't want to bare his soul to a stranger. He might even bristle at the suggestion; some men did. "Or I could go, if you like. Leave you to your beach."
He wasn't about to bring up Rose. It was more that not wanting to talk about a failing relationship with a woman he found very attractive. He wasn't a secretive person. But he was worn out. He was tired to death of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Just a bad week," he sighed.
He walked her back to where she had laid out her things, which was not very far from the pile he had created before in a huff. "You're welcome to stay, if you feel well enough. I was just planning to lie out for a while. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't mind the company."
She smiled when he invited her to stay. She wouldn't press him to talk about it, but perhaps it was good to have some company, rather than sitting alone with his thoughts like he might've planned. "I'd like that," she said.
She sat down on her blanket, grabbing the towel she'd brought. "I'm a bit lonely, too," she admitted. "I'd gotten used to having someone around all the time." She started drying off her neck and shoulders.
Merrill nodded, stretching out on her blanket. "A man and his nephew." She'd mentioned him once, but she hadn't been very clear before. She could hardly blame him for not picking up on her meaning. "It was fun! We went to museums and the zoo and Disneyland!" The last one wasn't as educational as the others, but it had been fun.
"Ah, so all my favorite places. I'm kind of jealous," Frodo said, his smile reappearing. "I made a new friend, too. I think. He was a quiet fellow. We'll see what happens now that we're not compelled to follow one another everywhere. Mostly we just ate and drank together."
Merrill smiled."It was more fun than going alone." She flexed her foot, trying to ignore the tingly-itchy feeling. It wasn't too bad, but it was best if she didn't think on it. "It's nice, making new friends. People come together in the strangest ways. I'm sure yours will call again. Maybe you'll have drinks some time."
Frodo's eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. He wasn't sure she wasn't also referring to their own chance meeting. It certainly qualified. For the first time, he allowed himself to enjoy her company without fighting away Rose's image at the same time. After all, hadn't he gone out with the purpose of putting her and his anxieties out of his mind for a few hours?
He reached into a small cooler he'd been carrying and pulled out two popsicles, both red. On another day, he might have brought wine. But he'd been drinking less and less lately. Getting to know Rose probably had a great deal to do with that. And it seemed like a bad path to take it up again, now that he might be losing her.
"Popsicle?" he asked.
Merrill rarely intentionally put a double meaning behind her words, though occasionally they would sound that way by accident. She certainly wouldn't have objected to the second reading. He seemed like a fast friend already.
"Oh! Yes, thanks," she said when he offered the popsicle.