Author’s Note: This story takes place before the Lord of the Rings movies. Pairing: Frodo/Merry (yeah, I know, but go with it). A bit of hobbity fluff.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Diciplinary spanking.


“Oh, Merry.”

“Yes, Frodo, I know.”

“Oh, Merry…”

“I KNOW, Frodo.”

“Oh, MERRY!”

“For pity’s sake, Frodo, I heard you the first two times!” Merry snapped peevishly.

The two hobbits surveyed the surrounding devastation in silence for several moments.

“Nothing to do but clean it up.” Frodo commented weakly.

“Yes.” Merry replied, without, however, making any move to start.

“Well, come on then. I’ll help you.”

Merry sighed with gratitude. “Thank you. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“At the beginning, of course.” And with that, Frodo plunged into the disaster that used to be Bilbo’s living room, mentally reviewing the unfortunate events that had led up to this moment.

Merry, in a moment of unrelieved boredom (never a good thing when Hobbits were involved), had decided to poke around in Bilbo’s front closet. What he had found there, among the umbrellas, cloaks, and spare bric-a-brac, was a box of fireworks left over from Bilbo’s birthday party. He had dragged out the box to explore the contents when Frodo happened to return, causing Merry to stash the loose fireworks hastily and without due attention to the possible consequences. That is to say, he stashed them next to the blazing fireplace.

A stray spark had done the rest. And the result was the pile of debris that used to be a neat and tidy Hobbit living room.

“It was quite spectacular, though, wasn’t it?” Merry asked reflectively while gathering pieces of Bilbo’s favorite chair. Frodo simply glowered at him.

“Well, it WAS!” He protested. “I didn’t realize how much smoke and…”


“Oh, alright!” Grumbling, Merry hauled a bundle of trash out the door, leaving Frodo to continue scrubbing up soot in peace.

Almost an hour later, he still had not returned.

“Honestly, where can he have gone?” Frodo muttered to himself, dragging a soot-stained hand across his sweaty forehead. “Nearly destroys my uncle’s house and then disappears not ten minutes into the clean-up! Leaving me to deal with the mess, I might add!” He grumbled to no one in particular. “Hasn’t got the sense of a day-old hobbit!” He mumbled, dragging the cushions outside to shake our the smoke and soot. “If Bilbo found out about this, Master Brandybuck’s name would be ‘mud’ for certain!” He stomped back inside to try scrubbing more of the black marks from the walls.

Eventually, it dawned on Frodo that Merry was not going to return any time soon.

“Where on middle earth has that … that…PEST gotten to?” Frodo fumed, wiping some of the grime from his hands as he went outside to search for the missing Merry. “I swear, when I get my hands on him…”

It was a good deal later before Frodo DID get his hands on Merry, who was finally discovered napping peacefully in a nearby haystack. The time spent searching for him had not improved Frodo’s temper one bit, and he quite ungently grabbed a protruding Hobbit foot and yanked the sleeper from his pleasant nest.

“MERIADOC BRANDYBUCK! What do you mean napping while I’m left to clean up after YOUR mess!” He shouted with uncharacteristic force. “YOU were the one that meddled in Uncle’s closet!” He grabbed Merry’s shirt and gave him a small shake. “YOU were the one messing about with fireworks in the house!” He pulled the now wide-awake hobbit close to his face. “YOU were the one that nearly destroyed the place, and I am the one left doing the work! Why, if Gandalf were here, or Bilbo, you’d not be able to sit for a week, you wretched fellow!”

Frodo paused for breath, giving Merry another shake for good measure. Astonished, Merry could only stare at him, wide-eyed, then gave his usual grin.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing neither of them is here then, isn’t it?” He responded cheekily.

Frodo snapped. With a sound shockingly like a growl, he pulled the unsuspecting Merry to a nearby bench and sat down, yanking the surprised hobbit over his lap in the process.

“Frodo! What do you think you’re…?” Merry started, but as his breeches descended to his knees it became completely clear exactly what Frodo thought he was doing. He was giving the startled young Brandybuck the spanking of his life!

Frodo’s hand rose and fell with as much force as he could put behind it, and Merry was soon yelling lustily. “FRODO! Stop, stop! You can’t do this! Stop! It…OW…hurts!” He cried out, offended. Soon, however, the pleas and cries turned from offended to distressed, as Frodo impressed himself upon the wayward hobbit’s bottom. Merry was quite frantic by the time Frodo finally stopped and rested for a moment, his own breath ragged with both anger and exertion.

“Now, you will go BACK into Uncle’s house and finish cleaning up, is that clear Merry?”

“Yes, yes, very clear!” The distressed young hobbit replied quickly.

“Good.” Frodo released him then, and Merry hastily restored his clothes to their proper places, then stood there for a moment rubbing his behind absently.

“I never would have believed this of you,” He said softly, looking somewhat anxiously at Frodo. His anxiety was relieved when Frodo responded with a soft, almost shy, smile.

“Well, truthfully, neither would I.” He reached out and offered a hug, which was received quite gratefully. “Now, shall we finish the cleaning?”

Merry nodded compliantly, and the two made their way back to Bilbo’s house arm in arm. As they disappeared through the door, Merry said with a roguish grin, “But it WAS quite spectacular, wasn’t it?”

Frodo simply groaned and rolled his eyes. Incorrigible hobbit!

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