1.  The Bitter And The Sweet

October 1420 -- The Shire

            “Well now Meriadoc Brandybuck, have you forgotten me then?”  Her voice called through the heavy air of the stable.

            Merry silently continued packing his saddlebags.

            “You were not so shy when last we met,” she said softly, now standing only a few feet behind him.

            “Hello Estella,” he replied as he turned to her with what he hoped was a friendly smile.  Her frown said not.

            “A year I waited for you, off adventuring.  And then another while you set the Shire to rights…  You rode often enough by my father’s house.  Why did you never stop?”

            ‘Oh but I did.  Just not where you could see,’ he almost answered, thinking of the many times he had stopped to watch her simple day.  He knew that she liked to watch the sky lighten in the morning with a cup of tea on the back step; that she laundered in the early hours and weeded the kitchen garden later in the day.  He now knew why she had always smelled of rosemary and sunshine when they used to sneak off after tea, and hold each other shyly behind the barn.

            ‘It seems so long ago….’ He thought.  He shook his head, banishing the memories.

            “I’m not the person I used to be Estella,” he said quietly.  “The things I’ve seen, and done….  There were hard choices, choices that had to be made…”

            Their eyes met in the dim light, and each saw reflected in the other the pain and guilt and fear of souls who’d seen too much.

            “The Shire saw dark times too while you were gone, Merry.  And we all had choices to make,” she answered, voice trembling with emotion.

            He reached out to cup her cheek gently, and she leaned into his caress.

            “I would protect you from that darkness…  It’s what we tried to do.” His eyes were full of unshed tears.  “I’m sorry I was late.”

            “Oh, Merry!” She threw herself into his arms, weeping quietly.  After a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her dark curls.  He breathed in the sweet smell of rosemary and sunshine, and started to cry.  Great wracking sobs shook his frame, and she pulled him to a bench and held him close.

            “So many times I thought I’d never make it back, never get out alive…” he whispered, voice cracking.  “We all feared we’d not return, so much death all around and we were so small, so young, so stupid….  There was so little left of me there at the end, falling in a dark dream….  And knowing all the while that I would have to return to tell their families that the others were dead….”

            “But they are not dead, Merry.  And neither are you,” she whispered, kissing the dark scar on his brow.  “And for that I am very glad.”

            He looked at her then, her face washed with tears, and her eyes and mouth sad yet hopeful.

            “It is time to live again, here, at peace,” she said softly.

            “I cannot forget….” He started, shaking his head.

            “No, never forget the trials and the pain, the price of that peace.  But don’t let the bitter bury the sweet.  Live.  Laugh…”

            “And love?” he finished in a whisper.  “Can you love these bloody hands and darkened eyes?”

            “More happened here than you could know, Merry,” she said, eyes downcast.  He noticed that she had started to absently wring the fabric of her skirt.  “You can get blood off of most anything, you know, save silk….” She murmured, distracted by some inner vision or memory.

            He reached out to still her fingers, and she seemed to return to herself.

            “Two small candles together can better light the darkness than each alone.  I love you, Merry, and no word or deed can stop that.”

            He leaned close and gently kissed her.  Her soft sigh brushed against him and she returned his embrace.  He moved his mouth upon hers, tasting, rediscovering her soft sweet breath.  Her lips parted slightly, inviting, and he let his tongue find hers and lost himself in her warmth.

            “Will you share your light, your life with me, always?” he whispered against her cheek.

            Her voice breathed softly across his skin.  “Always…”