CHAPTER 54

Mellor tossed the bones of the coney into the fire and leaned back to take out his pipe. Across the fire his comrade raised a brow. “Are you sure you would not like to try it?” he asked him politely, as he did nearly every time.

Eradan shook his head. “I cannot imagine what you Northerners see in the habit.”

“It is relaxing,” said Mellor, sending up a couple of smoke rings. “Aragorn is uncommonly fond of it. I’m surprised more of you Southerners have not tried it on his account.”

It still gave Eradan a start to hear the King spoken of in so familiar a fashion. But to the Dunadaín of the North, he was familiar, their Chieftain, leader and captain for many years. By all means they respected and obeyed him, and they loved him fiercely. But they did not hold him in awe, as a figure out of legends, the way he was in Gondor.

“The halfling who brought us that message yesterday was a charming fellow. That is the first time I had actually spoken to one, though I had glimpses of the Ringbearers and their companions in the South before they returned to their home.”

“Hobbits,” Mellor replied with a bit of emphasis on the word, “in general, tend to be a very charming race. They are friendly and trusting for the most part, though the Shirelings are wary of outsiders, and are easily moved to laughter and tears. But as you could tell from his message, like every other race, they have their share of rogues and renegades.” He tilted up his head and blew another series of smoke rings. Eradan watched in fascination. If the stuff did not smell so foul, he would be tempted to try it just to learn how to do that. Mellor looked at him. “You say you saw the Ringbearers?”

“Yes, on two very different occasions, in Ithilien.” Eradan closed his eyes briefly to remember. “The first time was before he had accomplished his great deed. We had no idea who the small one was, or his companion. We actually captured them, as our orders stood for any strangers found there. I was not one of their captors, you understand, I just saw them briefly as they were led in, and then again later when our Captain Faramir released them. None of us knew then what their errand of secrecy was, nor do I think if we had been told would we have believed it. They were so small and frail in appearance, and it was clear they had already been through much hardship ere we ever found them. Some wondered at Faramir’s decision to allow them to go free. I, myself, thought perhaps they were some spies being sent by his father the Steward, with secret orders. I shudder now to think what the consequences would have been if he had delayed their errand.”

Mellor nodded. He understood what it was like to be in the field, following orders with incomplete information. One had to trust that the leaders knew more.

“The second time I saw them was when they were honored at Cormallen, after they had achieved their goal. All of us were in awe that such small creatures had held the fate of the world in their hands. We owe them so much.” He shook his head in wonder. “It is one of the reasons I volunteered to come north, when they said they needed more Rangers to fill out your ranks for a time, and to help guard their land.”

“We were never very numerous,” sighed Mellor, “but there was a time when we could have prevented such sad things as happened here last year. It is true that other lands may have suffered more during the War, but I would have had this happy little land not suffer at all.” It had been a matter of pride among the Rangers of the North that most of the Shirelings did not know of, did not even believe in, the dangers that lay in wait along their borders. They boasted among themselves that they had kept the Shire so safe that danger was a legend in the Shire. How proud they had been, how overconfident. Mellor had lost a number of dear friends when the Nazgûl had overwhelmed this very spot and gone rampaging into the Shire.

“Yet from what I have been given to understand, much of their trouble came from being betrayed by one of their own.”

“Yes. Well, as I said, every race has its rogues and renegades. Hobbits have fewer than most.”

“I would not say so of Elves.”

Mellor laughed. “Come now, Eradan, you know your lore. Elves had more than their share of renegades; but being immortal, they have managed over the ages to purge them. We Secondborn have a new crop every generation.” His posture suddenly altered to one of wary alertness. “Someone is coming,” he said softly, gesturing with his chin to the far side of the Ford.

Eradan nodded. He had noticed as well.

They watched the hobbit on the pony gingerly picking his way across the Baranduin towards them.

Mellor rose to his feet. “Good day, little master. What brings a hobbit out of the Shire?”

The hobbit brought his pony to a halt as it came out of the water. He hesitated for a moment, and then said too casually, “My name is--Hamfast Gamgee. I am going south to find a market for my leaf.” He did not meet the Ranger’s eyes, nor express surprise at being questioned.

“Ah,” said the Man, “perhaps you are going down the Greenway to the Fords of Isen, Mr. Bracegirdle.”

“Yes, that’s it--” he stopped in sudden confusion, realizing too late that he had responded to his real name. He tried to turn the pony to bolt back across the Ford, but the other Man seized its halter.

The first Man lifted him easily down from the saddle, though he struggled. “We had word of your coming, Mr. Bracegirdle. There are some people in the Shire who would like to talk to you.”

The hobbit slumped in defeat.

“That’s better. Would you care for some roasted coney? We have already lunched, but there is a bit left.”

He nodded wearily. He was hungry. That was what had finally enabled him to gather the courage to attempt the crossing.

The other Man looked at him. “The Thain’s messenger will not be back until morning. Should we go ahead and escort him back, or should we wait.”

Mellor shook his head. “I don’t know. Let me think on it.”

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Estella had been more than a little apprehensive as she, her mother and Angelica made their way to Pearl’s apartment in the Great Smials. She was very afraid that she would meet with Merry along the way. She felt terrible for the way she had misjudged his actions; she realized now she was just too squeamish and timid to be a good match for someone as brave and bold as Merry. And she was not sure what she could say to him if she did see him. It occurred to her that she was going to have to think of something. The circles their families moved in would not allow her to avoid him forever. But maybe she could avoid him long enough for him to forget about her. And at the thought of that her treacherous heart gave a pang. Stop that, she thought, he’s better off without you, when you don’t have any better faith in him than you showed.

As her mother had said, this tea party was just lasses. Pearl greeted them warmly at her door and showed them in. Already there were both her sisters, and her Aunts Primrose and Peridot, and Rose Cotton and Marigold Gamgee, and Eglantine. And Esmeralda. She quailed a bit at the sight of Merry’s mother, but Esme greeted her warmly, as though she did not know anything was amiss.

There was another knock on the door, and Pearl opened it to greet Amethyst and Garnet, looking pale and worn. “Hullo, Pearl,” said the older sister. “We had not planned to come, but father insisted. He said he would sit with Opal until we came back.”

Garnet embraced Pearl. “Thank you for asking us. And thank you for everything else. I know we’ve been a pain to you sometimes in the past, but you’ve been so kind to us.”

Pearl shook her head. “Let’s let the past stay the past. We understand a few things a lot better now than we used to.”

She led the new arrivals into her sitting room, where a lovely tea was laid--teas and cakes and biscuits and little sandwiches, and other dainties.

They talked at first about the Ball, and the gowns and the dances, but it seemed that all too soon the talk turned to the Travellers.

“It seems such a shame that we had that unpleasantness,” said Eglantine. “I do believe that Frodo was actually enjoying himself for a while, poor lad.”

“Oh, he was,” said Rose. “Sam told me so. He said he’d not seen Mr. Frodo looking so relaxed for a very long while.”

“Well,” said Esmeralda, “I think all of them were enjoying it up to then. I hate to say this Tina, but I am glad that Merry was finally able to get that business with your nephews out of his system.”

Estella cringed.

“I don’t know why you should hate to say it. I found it very satisfying myself. And they are no longer my nephews.”

“Well, Merry is so protective. You know how he is.”

“Oh indeed I do,” Eglantine laughed “no big brother could have taken better care of Pippin when he was small than his cousin did.”

“Ah,” said Pearl, “but he led him into his share of mischief as well. Those two had more schemes for disrupting life around them than any one else I’ve ever heard of.”

Pimpernel chuckled. “Yes, and the three of us were usually the targets of their schemes. Do you remember the time that they decided to get back at us just because we had made Pippin stand in for me to pin up the hem on my new frock?”

Vinca moaned. “Do I ever! How long did it take us to get our dresses wearable again? I didn’t even know that Merry knew how to sew!”

“I don’t think I heard this one,” put in Esmerelda. “what did they do?”

Tina shook her head. “They went into the girls’ wardrobes and sewed all the openings to their dresses shut--necks, sleeves, hems and openings. The stitches were very crude, and in their haste they used long running stitches, so pulling them out did not ruin the clothes. Of course, they had already made themselves scarce by the time Pearl got up and went to get dressed. I think they had gone out around sun-up and spent the day at Pincup. They did not want to have to undo their handiwork.”

Esmeralda howled with laughter. “When did they do this?”

“Oh they were well old enough to know better. I think Merry was twenty-six and Pip about eighteen.”

Estella could not help but chuckle at this story. She had forgotten what a prankster Merry used to be.

“They are *still* not old enough to know better,” said Esme. She went on to relate the little prank night that took place just before they had all left Brandy Hall to come to Tuckborough. “At the time, I thought it was impossible, since they are living at Crickhollow, but thinking it over later, I realized that it’s only a short distance from the Hall, and Merry does have keys to every entrance in the smial.”

“Why on earth would they do such a thing?” exclaimed Primrose half-scandalized and half-amused.

“Well, I had told Pippin that young Bergil needed to learn how to have fun. I suspect that he took me very literally.” Esme chuckled again.

For a short time, the conversation veered to Bergil, and to the Men, but it seemed that after only a few moments, Merry was the topic again. All afternoon, it seemed, Estella could not get away from hearing his name.

After a while, it seemed, conversations broke into smaller groups, and she found herself visiting with Rosie. Estella asked Rose how the wedding plans were coming.

“Oh, they are coming along fine, Miss Estella. Just about the last detail was for Sam to ask Mr. Merry to stand with him, which he did, and so he is.”

Estella looked surprised. “Not Frodo?”

Rosie laughed. “No, Mr. Frodo is performing the wedding, so of course Sam had to ask someone else to stand with him, and I think that Mr. Merry is his best friend next to Mr. Frodo, more so than Mr. Pippin. Well, they’ve known one another since Mr. Merry was seven and Sam was nine, back when Mr. Frodo first came to live with Mr. Bilbo.”

“Oh.” She had not realized his friendship with Sam went all the way back to childhood. But it seemed that there were a lot of things she had not realized, and now it was too late.

“Yes, and I think that they are a good deal alike in some ways, though Mr. Merry is gentry. They both like to take care of folks, and never think twice about it.”

Suddenly Estella could not take it any more. “Excuse me,” she said to Rosie, and hurried away before the other lass could see the tears in her eyes.

Pearl had a private entrance to her apartment that led out to the north garden, and Estella made her way out.

Pearl, who had been talking to Rosamunda and Esmeralda watched Estella make her way out, and gave them a satisfied look. Then she gave a nod to Pervinca, who slipped out into the corridor of the Smials.

Estella found her way to a secluded garden seat, and put her head in her hands. She’d spoiled everything. Nothing would ever be right again.

“Estella?” said a gentle, familiar voice.

She looked up. There he stood, holding out a handkerchief with his heart in his eyes; and when she saw his face, something shifted. He was not the terrifying figure of violence she had pictured after the ball, nor the shining remote hero she had been imagining since yesterday. He was himself, Merry, with his rugged Brandybuck features and his quirky smile. She tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

He knelt down beside her. “Estella, I’m sorry I frightened you.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry for not understanding.”

He chuckled, and reached up with the handkerchief and gently dried her tears. “Well, let’s both be sorry then. I don’t think it’s terribly clever to quarrel over which of us is to blame.”

“Merry, I’m glad you are you,” she said.

“I’m glad I’m me, too, now, since you are speaking to me again.” He moved to sit beside her.

She looked up into his grey eyes, and leaned into his side as he placed an arm around her shoulders.

They leaned their heads together, and sat, not speaking again. But it was a very nice kind of not speaking this time.

Pearl watched through the door. She looked at the mothers of the young couple. “How long do we give them?”

Rosamunda smiled. “There is no hurry. No hurry at all.”

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