48. In Memoriam

The Thain arose early as was his wont. He loved the silent softness of the predawn air, when the stars had not yet dimmed in the sky and the land seemed to hold its breath.

As he stood in the yard between Hall and stables, eyes closed, breathing deep, he heard the ring of pony hoofs on the stones. He opened his eyes to see Merry swinging down from his flame-coloured pony.

'Good morning,' the Master of Buckland called. 'You're about early.'

'I might say the same,' Pippin returned, stretching.

'Ah, well, 'twill be a busy day, and I must needs get Jewel's outing in before breakfast if at all,' Merry answered, stroking the sleek neck. 'Poor lad's old enough, I don't ride him out on Hall business anymore, so I have to work in his outings whenever I can.'

They walked together into the stables, where Merry proceeded to untack and groom the old pony as they talked.

'Aye, but you oughtn't neglect your poor bed,' the Thain answered. 'Poor things get cranky without regular attention.'

The Master shot him a startled look, then laughed heartily. 'No, I suppose not,' he chuckled.

'I'm on a first-name basis with mine, you know,' Pippin continued. ' 'Twas that difficult to part with it, this trip, I had to make Diamond promise to keep it company each night whilst I was gone.'

'You'd best watch out or you'll have it quite spoilt,' Merry warned.

The Thain laughed in his turn, then sobered. 'Merry...' he began.

The Master held up a warning hand, then resumed his diligent brushing. 'Now don't you start with me, Pippin, I get enough of it from everyone else.'

'But evidently you're hard of listening,' Pippin said dryly. 'Else there'd be no need for so many to repeat the same words.'

'I know, I know,' Merry said, keeping his voice even with an effort. 'I work too hard, I sleep too little, I worry too much. There,' he nodded decisively. 'I've saved you the trouble. Now save your breath.' His tone was final, and Pippin shook his head. There was no arguing with Merry in this mood, he knew. He took up a cloth and began to rub the parts of the pony where Merry had already brushed, polishing the chestnut coat to a high gloss.

They finished grooming the pony in silence, then put the tools away. Merry produced from a pocket the apple he'd grabbed earlier from the bowl by the bed, as he'd kissed his wife good night. He offered it to the pony with a last pat, and the two hobbits walked out of the stable.

Merry looked up at the dimming stars. 'There'll be a bath drawn for you, in the bath room across from your rooms, about dawn,' he said.

'Dawn?' Pippin asked, astonished. 'You Bucklanders arise early.'

'Ah, well, cannot lie slugabed when there's so much to be done.' Merry slapped Pippin on the back, and added, 'I must go, my own bath ought to be awaiting me.' Pippin shook his head as he watched his cousin stride towards the Hall, no sign of weariness in his step.

Merry checked on Estella first, still sound asleep in their bed, then went to the bathing room in the Master's private quarters. A steaming bath waited, as he'd ordered, and he quickly shed his clothes and sank into the hot bath with a sigh. It did not take long to soap himself all over and lather and rinse his hair, and then he sat back, resting his head on the back of the tub, letting the steaming water soak away the tension in his muscles.

As he relaxed, the weariness that he'd been holding off returned to try to seize him, to carry him off into sleep. He thought idly how easy it would be to fall asleep in the bath, and snorted at the thought, how it would all look in the Official Record of Buckland someday:

Meriadoc Brandybuck ("Meriadoc the Magnificent")
xxth Master of Buckland, S.R. 1432-1443
Primarily remembered for drowning in the bath, causing his son to become the youngest Master in the history of Buckland, under the Regency of Berilac Brandybuck.

He could almost hear Pippin saying, 'No, cousin, you've got it all wrong! A proper hobbit is supposed to die in his bed, after an outstanding meal and a satisfying smoke.'

'I'm sorry, Pippin, it just would not work in my case. You see, my bed and I are not exactly on speaking terms at the moment.'

A soft cough roused him as his chin was slipping into the water, and he looked up to see a deferential servant holding ready a heated towel. He nodded thanks, rose from the bath, said, 'Thank you, please get Mistress Estella's bath ready and call Glory to attend her ladyship.'

'Very good, Sir,' the servant nodded, and started to add more heated water to the tub. Merry dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for him.

Entering the bedroom again, he sat carefully on the bed and leaned down to kiss his wife. She smiled in her sleep, then opened her eyes to meet his as she returned the kiss. 'Good morning, beloved,' she said. 'You're up early.'

'We have a busy day ahead of us,' Merry said. 'Your bath is ready, milady.'

She sat up, eyes going to the untouched pillow beside hers. 'Merry,' she said sternly. 'Did you keep that poor old pony out all the night?'

'We are both all the better for the exercise, my dear,' he smiled, but she frowned at him.

'Merry, beloved... you must sleep.'

'I rested,' he said stubbornly. Riding a pony under the starry heavens was certainly more restful than staring at a ceiling through the dark night.

'Well,' she pouted, 'I insist upon seeing it myself.' She patted the bed beside her. 'Come, show me how to rest, I could use a lesson, I think, for I hardly slept a wink all night. Put a dent in your pillow, at the very least, or the servants will gossip.'

Fully clothed as he was, he lay obediently upon the bed. 'There you are, my dear.'

She regarded him solemnly. 'Ah,' she said. 'I see. Head upon the pillow, just so.'

'Exactly.'

'And what do you do with your feet?'

'Well, if you are not fully dressed, you can bury them beneath the covers, very cosy, I assure you.'

'Mmmmm,' she said, leaning down to kiss him. 'And this is resting? What about closing your eyes?'

'That would be more sleeping than resting, my dear,' he said.

'Why not sleep, then?' she teased, but he could see the worry in her eyes and it disarmed him.

'I don't know that I remember how to do that,' he whispered.

'Let me help you, then,' she murmured, fingertips lightly closing his eyes, then soothing his forehead. 'Just let your eyes close, breathe deeply, and drift.' She continued to move her fingers in circles and swirls on his forehead as she murmured sweet nonsense. It did not take long for his breathing to become even, and his face to relax. She continued the massage a few moments longer, then cautiously arose from the bed. If she had her way, he would sleep until it was time for the festal breakfast, mid-morning. She tiptoed out of the room.

Returning from her bath, she was glad to see him still sound asleep on the bed. Quickly and silently doing up her damp curls, she was about to exit the room when a soft tap sounded on the door. Instantly, Merry was awake and rising to his feet, combing back his hair with his fingers. Cursing silently to herself, Estella said in as calm a voice as she could muster, 'Come!'

'Begging your pardon, Mistress,' a nervous servant bobbed in the doorway, 'but head cook's that upset, and asking for you in the kitchens.'

She sighed, shot a look at Merry. 'It's just as well,' he said, 'I need to go out and walk the racecourse, make sure no little creatures dug holes overnight to trap ponies' feet. I will see you at the breakfast, my love.' He kissed her and brushed past the servant.

'Very well,' she said to the hovering servant. 'Tell Cook I will be right there.'

'Yes'm,' the servant said with a last bob, and was gone. Estella dashed away the tears of frustration, finished putting up her hair, and headed down to the kitchens to see what was upsetting the head cook on this fine festival day.