Written for the Pairs Challenge, Marigold’s Challenge #47. I was paired with Pippinfan who gave me these elements:
gold locket, moonlight, a sledge, sick/injured Merry

Happy Yule dearest Pippinfan!

A Day in Time

Merry stretched a long luxurious stretch. It was the morning of Second Yule, a day for laying late abed as everyone was usually tired out from all the festivities of First Yule. He laid there, stretched out upon his back looking up at the ceiling which, for some reason he couldn’t put his finger on, didn’t look quite right.

“Let it pass, old lad,” Merry muttered to himself. “Just a ceiling, after all, and they all look pretty much the same.”

He eased his legs out from under the heavy bedclothes, not really wishing to leave their warmth, then he pattered over to the wardrobe to take his dressing gown off the hook on the inside of the door. He paused as he stuck his right arm through the sleeve.

It didn’t look quite right, much as the ceiling hadn’t looked quite right. Right . . . yet not.

Merry shook his head as he finished putting on the cuddly garment and padded off to the privy. Part way down the hall he realized that even the hall was different. Some of the paintings had been removed.

“Must be cleaning them,” he thought aloud as he continued on his way.

Back in his bedchamber, Merry went over to the wash stand. Steam rose as he filled the basin from the ewer and silent thanks to his hobbitservant rose with it as they did every morning. Then two things happened simultaneously that shattered his peace.

He looked into the mirror which hung above the wash stand just as someone behind him said:

“Gormadoc Brandybuck! Do you plan to spend all day in here?”

A sound like someone being slowly strangled escaped his reflection’s open mouth.

“Really, Gormadoc my dear, I shan’t have you making such grotesque noises at me! Answer me properly or not . . . well . . . just answer me properly. Whatever are you staring at?”

Merry was staring at the not quite Merry in the glass. Its face had gone deathly white, matching well the touches of white in its hair. A hobbitess’s scowling face appeared beside the image in the mirror.

“Gormadoc?” she half asked, half ordered.

From the far recesses of his mind a name floated up. “Malva?” he wholly asked in a shaky whisper.

“It had best be me if she’s in our bedchamber! Perhaps we oughtn’t have gone out for that sledge ride in the moonlight last night,” she added, concern now replacing the haughty look in her eyes. “It was a full moon after all.”

“And you are acting rather moonstruck,” she added in the privacy of her own thoughts. Although she knew her exterior was prickly, she truly did love the dear old hobbit and she was becoming rather worried about him.

Aloud she said, “I’m so anxious to see my Yule gift, my love. I’ve heard rumors that you’ve been seen several times at Dinodas Brandybuck’s jewelry shop. Dare I hope you have ordered that gold locket I’ve been wanting so very badly? You do spoil me so.”

She warmly, moistly, kissed the back of Merry’s neck sending a shiver of revulsion down his spine, which she happily mistook as an excited response from her husband Gormadoc. She kissed him again, this time on the check. Another shiver and another kiss and she was nearly to his lips. He had to do something! She was his great-great-great-great Grandmother!

He made the sudden fit of coughing and choking that befell him much worse than it actually was.

“Oh my!” Malva exclaimed as she rushed to the bedside nearly forgetting to unstopper the crystal flask of water that always stood on the night stand before pouring him a drink. She pushed the small glass into his hand. “Here my dear! Here. Drink this. Oh my! I shall get Nob. Drink! Drink!” All this was said in a rush as she hurried out of the room.

He knew he only had a few moments at best. Merry drew a deep breath, glared at the mirror and firmly demanded, “Who are you and what have you done with me?”

The effect was diminished by the fact that he wasn’t sure if he or his great-great-great-great Grandfather was doing the asking.

“I’m Meriadoc Brandybuck. I’m Meriadoc Brandybuck,” he was repeating to the mirror as several times great Grandmother Malva, or his wife as might be the case, returned with a dignified looking servant.

“Do something, Nob!” Malva demanded.

“Of course madam,” Nob calmly replied as he approached his master.

“Get her out of here,” Gorbadoc, tensely whispered when Nob was close enough to hear him. “I’m . . . I’m not myself and I don’t want to distress the dear lass any more than she already is.”

Nob turned to his mistress. “Madam, the Master has asked for his healer to be sent for and he has asked that I remain with him as he is in need of being helped back into bed.”

Merry took his cue well, slightly slumping against Nob who immediately put an arm about him, stuffing his hand under Gorbadoc’s arm to better support him.

“Oh my!” Malva exclaimed, though she muttered, “How rude to send me off to fetch the healer. He’s the servant for goodness sake!” as she once again scurried out of the room.

“I fear, sir, that you’ll be answering for that later,” Nob sighed while leading his master over to the bed. “Her family got called “Headstrong” for a reason, you know. She will want an explanation.”

“Just don’t let her back in, Nob, until I’m asleep or the healer arrives.” Merry heard Gorbadoc say as he shivered again. All Merry could think of was how his mother would behave when his father was ill, and there was no way in all of Buckland or The Shire that he could go through his great four times over grandmother doing that to him. He suddenly felt weary and gladly allowed Nob to help him off with his dressing gown and tuck him into bed.

Merry fell asleep wondering how he was going to explain this to the healer even as he chuckled to himself at they way the old couple showed their affection for each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Merry woke up and stretched. It felt so wonderful to stretch. He looked about then sighed with relief. There was no sign of either Malva Brandybuck nor a healer. Just a dream then. He stretched again, starting to let out another contented sigh, when his breath caught in his throat.

His bed room was looking strange again. Things were missing or out of place. And why did he feel so fat?

After a few minutes of lying frozen in place, Merry slowly and awkwardly began to move toward the edge of the bed. Moving seemed to need a great deal more effort than usual. He would just have to force himself to take a look in the mirror over the wash stand.

He didn’t make it that far.

He looked down as he threw back the covers.

He screamed.

He swooned.

“Darling! My sweet. Wake up! Please wake up!”

It was a male voice calling through the darkness, but as Merry began to waken his mind pulled away from wakefulness in terror. He had felt oddly fat. He had thrown back the bedclothes and had a momentary view of what were obviously a pair of sizable breasts and a profoundly pregnant belly, both covered by a flowery flannel nightgown.

No. He really did not want to wake up, just in case it was all still there. A pain grew and faded in his stomach. He chose to ignore it. He would lie there and fain unconsciousness until the cows came home if need be.

“Bella. Bella please wake up. She’s not responding to me, Orgulas!”

“Calm down, Gorby. For goodness sake. The healer has checked her over and there doesn’t seem to be anything amiss. She and the babe are fine.”

“Shows how much that healer knows,” Merry wryly thought, nearly smirking to go with it but he caught himself in time. No good would come of his great-Grandfather or his great-great uncle wondering why he . . . er, well she, was smirking.

“But she screamed, Gully. She screamed. I heard it.”

“Nothing is wrong. She most likely had a nightmare and swooned after waking.”

Merry, or Bella, wanted badly to move. He was lying on his back and her bladder was begging to be emptied.

A groan escaped his lips as a sudden pain seized her abdomen. Merry’s mind flooded with terror.

“There is no way in Middle-earth I’m going to give birth!” his thoughts shouted.

Unfortunately, so did his mouth.

“Bella?”

She opened her eyes. “I . . . I’m not feeling myself, Gorby. I . . .”

How could she say she felt as though there was someone else inside her? Someone other than their child that is. Worse; somehow she was certain it was a male someone.

“Don’t you want our child, Bella?”

“Yes,” she said wearily as she closed her eyes again. “I want to have our baby more than you can ever know.”

In her mind a voice kept screaming “NO! I’m not going to give birth! NO!” Bella’s thoughts kept telling it to shut up.

“Of course she does. It is why you took her out in the sledge last night, old lad,” Gully was saying. “This little one is two weeks over due, and though I do think it may have been wiser to do it tonight when Yule would be all over with, a nice bumpy ride o’er the snow in the First Yule moonlight to help bring on labor apparently was just what was needed.”

“It seems so,” Gorbadoc slowly said.

Bella reached for the gold locket that rested between her breasts. She clutched it hard as another contraction built.

“NO! NO! NO!” Merry screamed out loud. “You bloody ass! You did this to her! To me! Somehow this is all your fault!”

Gully blanched. “She’s moving along rather fast I think. I’ll fetch the healer, brother,” he shouted as he ran from the room wondering why Bella had referred to herself as ‘her’.

Merry lay panting. He was already feeling exhausted and something told him there was a long way yet to go.

Later, Mirabella Brandybuck swooned as the healer cried out, “It’s coming!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Merry woke up, but he did not stretch. He peered anxiously around at the room he was in. It looked right, or nearly so. What demanded more attention than what his sight revealed was what his sense of smell revealed.

Someone was very ill in this room.

No.

Someone was dying in this room.

A chill ran through Merry, though it lingered around his heart, as he saw himself walk up to the bedside. Yet the chill was not from seeing himself, it was because he knew where he was; when he was; who he was.

He didn’t need a mirror nor someone calling out a name this time. He knew he was the hobbit who was lying on his death bed and he knew that hobbit was his own father.

Merry looked at himself, remembering every thought and feeling he had had this dreadful day. Yule was supposed to be a joyous time, not a time of dying. Everyone had been caught by surprise when the Master had collapsed in the midst of the First Yule Feast last night.

He saw himself look down at him; at the old hobbit lying in the bed. His father looked so fragile that he was afraid to embrace him. His father’s eyes stared blankly so what use was there in looking lovingly at him. His father was not conscious so what good could there be in speaking to him. The Merry who was somehow Saradoc looked up at his other self, his real self he felt, as he just stood there, misery scratched into his face with every crease worry and sorrow placed there.

“Talk to him - me!” Merry and Saradoc shouted in unison. The dying hobbit heard himself shouting, but it was obvious that his son standing beside the bed did not. Somehow Saradoc was seeing everything; hearing everything . . . wanting desperately to feel a loving embrace.

But Merry’s heart sank as he saw the Merry standing at the bedside holding himself back.

“Father, can you forgive me for being such an ass?”

The body on the bed twitched feebly as the Merry inside talked to the Saradoc who could somehow see, hear and feel.

“It’s so much worse than any other . . . any other passing that I’d ever faced. Worse than Frodo leaving. Worse than King Theoden dying on the field of battle.” A small sob tugged at Merry’s voice. “They both said good bye.”

Silence. Then a whisper.

“I meant to, Merry. I somehow knew my time was nearly gone, but I wasn’t sure you would understand. You don’t like it when I say I’m feeling my death drawing nigh. You tell me to not speak of such things, that I have a lot of time.” There was a long, slow, whispery sigh. “Time has run out, Merry my son, and now I can’t say what you long to hear.”

“But I can hear you. By some strange twist, I can hear you and you can hear me.”

Merry felt the next sigh escaping his father’s lungs.

“I love you, Meriadoc. You will do well. You are loved by . . . the hobbits of Buckland. Loved. I’m proud of you. Hold . . . tightly to . . . Estella. Share your . . . heart with Peregrin.”

Merry felt a sudden lightness rise in his father’s heart. His father chuckled weakly then sighed.

“Young scamp!” the sigh said.

“Love your . . . children,” the next breath said.

“I learned how to do that from the best hobbit in all of Buckland and The Shire, Da. I learned it from you,” Merry said as he felt his father and himself fading away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think he’s waking up.”

Merry heard Estella’s voice saying. “No,” he thought to himself. “I just left with my father.”

“It’s about time!”

He could hear Pippin’s cheeky grin in his voice.

“The great daft hobbit went and put us all off breakfast, elevenses, luncheon and tea. Nice of him to at least have the decency to not ruin dinner as well.”

Merry heard some shuffling noises.

“Merry love, wake up. Please wake up,” Estella gently said as she kissed him before, between, and at the end of each small sentence.

“Merry, old lad. Wake up. I’m hungry,” Pippin said as he gently boxed his shoulder, though he kissed his forehead after mentioning that he was hungry.

“Do quit hitting him, Peregrin.”

That was Diamond, using her angry but not really angry voice that she used to rebuke her husband when his behaviour was improper but she knew he was teasing.

Merry finally opened his eyes.

The room most likely looked as it should, as the right people were in it with him, but it was spinning, making it difficult to tell. Merry let his eyes close. He didn’t feel pregnant, nor . . . he paused in his thoughts . . . nor did the room smell of impending death.

“I’m here,” Merry murmured with a surprised tone.

Estella, Pippin and Diamond all looked at one another.

“Where else would you be, darling?” Estella said worriedly.

“I . . . You wouldn’t believe me. Come here.” Merry pulled his wife to his chest, squeezing her tightly. It was then he noticed his right hand was clenched. So tightly clenched that it had gone numb.

“What is wrong with my hand?” he asked, looking around Estella, who he continued to hug firmly with his left arm and hand, seeking an answer from the others. He feared it was the numbness that came when the Old Shadow drew over him, yet, neither his hand nor his arm felt cold.

Merry looked at his hand. He could see a golden chain feeding up between his thumb and his knuckle then draping itself over the back of his hand.

“It’s what got you hurt, you romantic fool.”

Merry looked over at his younger cousin, one eyebrow quizzically raised. “Help me sit up, Pippin, then you can explain that to me.”

Once Merry was propped up nicely with several soft pillows, Pippin began his explanation.

“You lost Estella’s new gold locket sometime last night. You told me afterwards that you reckoned it was when you helped her up into the sledge.” Pippin was grinning merrily. It wasn’t often that he got to lord it over Merry. “I had told you to put it in an inside pocket, but you would have none of it. ‘Too hard to get at, Pip.’ You said. ‘I want to make it appear as though Gandalf himself had conjured it out of the air.’ That was how you described it.”

Pippin’s grin turned to his brightest smile. “You conjured it all right. Conjured it right out of existence!”

“It was a lovely ride in the moonlight anyway, Merry. Just like the First Yule night when you proposed,” Estella said in her sweet shy way. *

Merry sighed. “That was to be the point of it. I thought it would be a lovely tenth anniversary present. Well, an early one since it was on the proposal day not our wedding day.”

Merry looked at his hand a few moments then sighed, shut his eyes and shook his head.

“We weren’t sure we should try getting it out of your hand,” Diamond said. “We didn’t wish to hurt your fingers.”

Merry turned his doleful eyes to her husband.

“Make yourself useful and pry them loose, will you Pippin, instead of just standing there basking in the fact the you were right and I was wrong.”

He gritted his teeth as Pippin obliged him. Finally, Estella’s gift lay visible on her husband’s open palm.

“The last thing I remember was seeing it glinting at me from where the morning sun was shining under the sledge,” Merry said quietly as they all looked at the gold locket. “I had stopped it right where it been when we left. I’m surprised I didn’t run the locket into the snow with the runner.”

“You crawled under the sledge after it,” Pippin answered him. The younger cousin was no longer jesting. “It’s a wonder you both made it home last night. The one runner had dry rot and really ought to have broken while you were out and about. ‘Tis a good thing it didn’t go while you were well away from the Hall.” Pippin’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “As cold and damp as it was, that would not have been good.”

The cousins looked at each other silently remembering other times they had thought they were losing one another.

Pippin shook off the moment. “Yes, if it was going to break, it was a good thing it did it when you were here. The stable lad who had charge over the care of the ponies this morning found you. You were cold but not frozen; knocked completely unconscious though.”

Merry stared at the locket a few moments thinking of the odd dreams he had had whilst unconscious. Life and love and birth and death.

“Hold tightly to Estella. Share your heart with Peregrin. Love your children.”

His father had said those words, yet, had it really been his father? Saradoc Brandybuck had died this day six years ago.

And yet . . .

Merry spoke while still staring at the gift in his palm. “Pippin, Diamond. If you would please tell the kitchen staff that I will be there for dinner. And to make ready to serve the Second Yule Feast this evening.” He looked up at his best friend. “I’ll spend time with you tonight Pip. I . . . I’ve not spent much time alone with you this visit and I’ve missed it more than I realized. But for right now,” Merry looked at his wife and smiled. “Right now I need some time with the light of my life.”

“We’re on our way then!” Pip said brightly, taking Diamond’s hand and pulling her along with him towards the door. “I’ll tell them dinner is in an hour.” He paused in the door way, looking back at the couple with his eyes twinkling. “Will that be enough time, Merry? Although you really shouldn’t do anything too strenuous. You were unconscious much of the day.”

Merry threw a pillow at him, which Pippin easily ducked. “An hour will be fine. And send Theo and Wynda here in forty-five minutes. I want to see them and I’m sure they’ve been worried about me. Now go away!” he said grinning broadly.**

As the door shut he turned to Estella. “I need to propose again to the most wonderful hobbitess in all of Buckland and The Shire.”

Estella blushed, but her eyes were sparkling.

********************************************************************************

* See my story, “Peregrin and Diamond”

** In my universe, Merry and Estella (at least thus far) have two children; Theodoc and Eowynda.