Author’s Note: Yes, that’s Sam’s Ruby in this chapter. With all those hobbit children Sam and Rosie had, it stands to reason that one of them would marry into the Brandybuck family, too…

Estella and the cook had just set out second breakfast when they all heard the frantic knock on the front door of Brandy Hall.

"Is my father here?" they all heard Theomac shout, sounding as though he’d ridden at a gallop the whole way from Crickhollow.

"Theo?" Merry queried, moving quickly to the front hall just in time to grab hold of his son’s shoulders to steady him.

"Da, it’s ‘Bell…she’s so ill…we haven’t been able to bring her fever down since yesterday." The younger hobbit was gasping out his words in a panic. "And the healers were called to Long Cleve yesterday for something big, so they couldn’t come and…"

"Easy, my lad. Come with me while I get my things. Tell me what happened." Merry said soothingly, keeping one arm around his son as they walked.

"Bluebell was feeling poorly a few days ago, and it just got worse and worse. Ruby’s fair to collapsing herself from worry, Da. We’ve tried everything we know. Everything." Theo fell into a chair and watched Merry as the Master collected herbs from a familiar cupboard and a leather-bound book from a shelf nearby.

Quickly dropping it all into a sturdy pack, Merry absently pushed grey hair behind his pointed ears to keep it out of the way. "Theo, what else?"

Theo raised stricken grey eyes to his father. "Oh, Da, she hasn’t spoken in two days, except to cry in her sleep a bit at first, when the fever hit."

"Well, let’s be off, then. We shall see what I can do when we arrive." Merry helped Theo stand on shaky legs and hugged him close for a long moment. "Things are not always so dark as they seem."

Estella caught them at the front gate and proceeded to unlace the top of her husband’s pack so she could drop a wrapped bundle inside. "Here, you didn’t have a chance to eat and you’ll probably both be hungry on the way." She gave her son a swift embrace. "Send someone for me if I’m needed."

***

Several hours later found Merry standing in the smaller bedroom at Crickhollow, resting his hand gently on his granddaughter’s forehead. "Her fever’s mostly gone, but she’s far away from us. Can you fetch me my pack, Theo? And I’ll need some water in a basin, Ruby, as though it were for tea."

His daughter-in-law hurried off to get the water, looking mightily relieved to be able to do something at last that might help, and he thanked Theo quietly as his son handed him the well-worn pack.

Pulling out the book, Merry opened it and flipped through the pages to get to the bit he wanted. "Ah, it was two leaves, I thought so." Then, he took out a little earthenware jar and held it carefully in both hands.

"Da? What is that?" Theo asked as he stroked tangled brown curls away from his daughter’s hot face.

"Athelas…kingsfoil’s what we call it in the Shire." Merry chuckled softly. "Sam used to pull it out of the garden at Bag End all the time from in between the rose bushes, calling it a weed. We learned better on the Journey, though."

"How?" Somehow, the Brandybuck thirst for knowledge broke through even Theo’s exhaustion, and that made his father smile faintly. Merry leaned back against a bedpost and opened the jar. He tipped it sideways to spill two leaves into the palm of his hand and crushed them gently between his fingers.

"How did it…" Theo broke off as a delicate scent, familiar to both father and son, began to infuse the air in the little bedroom. "It’s what Mama uses when your arm hurts so much in the spring, isn’t it? And what I remember Auntie Diamond using once for Uncle Pippin when we visited and he was sick that time. I remember it."

Ruby came back with the basin just then, and as Merry cast the crumbled leaves into the steaming water, all three adult Hobbits found themselves breathing deeply. The athelas seemed to melt away the fear they felt. And for Merry, sharp-again memories of a quiet chamber in Minas Tirith faded away until all that was left was an impression of Pippin’s clear green eyes, and a strange combination of sunshine’s warmth and cool water.

"Talk to her, Ruby, call her back." Merry urged his daughter-in-law forward to the bed.

"Bell? Please, come back to us, love. We all need you."

The tiny hobbit-lass on the bed stirred and screwed up her face in confusion for a moment before her eyes drifted open. "Mama?"

Ruby gave a cry of relief and swiftly settled on the bed to hold her youngest child. "Oh, ‘Bell, there now, everything’s going to be all right."

Merry closed the jar and tucked it back into his pack, and gathered his things to silently creep out of the room, leaving his son’s family to their own comfort for now. After a few minutes, Theo came out and joined his father at the kitchen table. "Thank you, Da." He murmured into Merry’s shoulder in the midst of a tired embrace. "She’s all right and wanting food." Then he looked up when the older hobbit began to laugh heartily. "What?"

"Oh, Theo." Merry sighed, taking a deep breath as he calmed. "That’s what I did first thing when I woke up."

"Woke up when?" Theo asked curiously.

Wrapping one hand around the warm cup of tea he held, Merry gratefully let the sensation spread through his fingers. "In Minas Tirith, after the battle at Pelennor. When I woke, Theo, my arm was numb. It took me weeks before I could feel how hot a cup of tea was in my hand, or feel anyone’s hand in mine." He smiled at his son as the younger hobbit slipped one hand into his and gave it a little squeeze.

"I’m glad that you were healed, Da," Theo said to his father.

Merry ran a callused thumb over his son’s fingers. "It’s strong enough now, I’m strong enough. It’s only that…when I woke, I realized how much I missed the King I’d pledged myself to before the battle. King Theoden."

Theo’s eyes widened at the mention of the man for whom he’d been named.

"He and I talked of many things on the ride to Dunharrow," Merry said. "We spoke of herb-lore but little, and he’d promised we should do so again soon. I suppose I began to write down that lore as I learned it in his memory. I felt so small and…and lost as thought I were merely baggage among the Riders, alone without Pippin and Gandalf, Frodo and Sam, and he seemed to value my knowledge and opinion when we spoke."

Through a haze of held-back tears, he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip of tea. "And then he was gone. And then I almost lost Pippin, and Frodo and Sam. We were so very lucky. There was some thought in my mind that if I knew these things, then perhaps I wouldn’t lose anyone else. So I began to gather what I could."

Theo took the cup from his hand and set it onto the worn, wooden table. "It worked, Da, it worked. You’ve done it before and you did it again today."

"Theo," Merry said seriously, looking into his son’s eyes. "Someday, you will have this book." He pressed the worn leather of the book into Theo’s hand. "None in the Shire outside our families, Pippin’s, Sam’s, and ours…they don’t know the legacy we leave them. And some of the family won’t know, either, or don’t care to understand. This what I shall leave you…that will be passed down the generations."

Theomac looked down at the book he was holding, stroking a finger across the cover. "Oh."

Merry waited and watched, then took the book back to tuck it into his pack, and gave his son a gentle push on the shoulder. "Go and rest, lad. You and Ruby should sleep for a while. It seems there’s been a lack of that around here of late."

"Thank you for Bell," Theo whispered, and Merry felt his son’s kiss on the crown of his head.

He sat there at the table long after Theo left the room. Merry supposed he should send word to Estella, but he was too weary with heartache and joy together to do it now. In the morning would be soon enough. Eventually, he wandered to the window and looked out on Crickhollow’s little garden.

"As a father you were to me, for a little while," he whispered into the twilight that filled the garden with muted blues and greens. "And now I am a father, and Theo is as well. I will remember you as long as I am here, my lord. Keep Boromir company, if you’ve met him, would you? I’ll have lots of tales to tell you both someday. You’ll need to wait for your esquire and knight for a while. I’ve got things to do yet, perhaps even more books to write."

Merry murmured a goodnight into the sky and carefully closed the shutters. He fell asleep to the faint sound of Ruby’s singing from down the hall, her sweet voice carrying him into a sleep filled with the scent of athelas and pipeweed.