Title: A Special Yule
Rating: G
Summary: An illness has Adamanta miss the Yule festivities. Her husband keeps her company and sees to her well-being and happiness.
Year: 1400

Special thanks to Ariel for betaing.

~*~*~

It was unusually quiet in Brandy Hall. In various fireplaces, the fire burnt low, but hardly anyone sat before them to warm cold fingers or weary bones. They had all gone to the riverbank. Every year the First Yule was celebrated there. Food and mulled-wine were offered a-plenty, music played, couples danced, friends and family conversed and children laughed until they became too tired to keep their eyes open. Torches and candles burned, golden and red ribbons danced in the cold winter-wind and bundles of evergreen decorated every table. But what made every First Yule special was the huge bonfire that was erected at the shore. Red and orange, its flames reached for the black sky, their light reflected on the equally dark water of the Brandywine. The smell of wood mingled with that of food and drink and sometimes a lone hobbit would stand close to the fire with a sheet of paper in his hand. It contained all the sorrows and woes of the past year and, eventually, it would be handed over to the fire's care in hopes that the new year would be a better one.

Adamanta stared wearily into the dancing flames of her own little fire. Her face glowed in a dark red and gold and her eyes glistened as they reflected the only source of light. She had been ill for ten days and this was the first time that she had set foot out of her bedroom.

It had begun a harmless cold that would not keep her from the Yule preparations. Brandy Hall was exceptionally busy during Foreyule and every helping hand was needed. But then the fever had come and rendered her utterly useless. For a time, so Merimac had told her, she had been so far gone that even he had not been able to reach her. Adamanta remembered none of it except for the ache in her throat and head, and her inability to breathe properly.

The fever had broken two days ago and glad as she was, Adamanta loathed the lingering weakness. She could not be up for longer than thirty minutes before her limbs would begin to tremble and could no longer carry her weight. She felt dreadful about the situation especially since Merimac had said that he would skip the festivities and stay with her instead. Adamanta shook her head, sighing quietly as she pulled the blanket further up. Her husband was terribly pigheaded and, not only that, but ever since the rest of the family had left, he had fretted over her like some old mother hen.

"You look thoughtful." Adamanta smiled inwardly as Merimac came to her, a tray in his hands and an exuberant smile on his face. "Is there any trouble you want to burn in the fire? I could hurry down and do it for you, you know. The flames won't mind whose hand throws your paper in."

Adamanta chuckled hoarsely. Mother hen, indeed! "I wish you would go," she said at last, thankfully accepting the steaming cup of tea Merimac offered her. "At least one of us should see the bonfire and dance in the new year."

Merimac plopped down on an armchair with a teacup of his own. "And who should I dance with?" he asked. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to speak. "Nay, lass, my heart and love are here and I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the last hours of the old year with than you."

A blush rose to her cheeks and Adamanta looked away, flattered by his words. Merimac had always known exactly what to say and when - a fact he knew all too well, judging from the wanton look he was giving her. She sipped at her tea and suppressed a smile as she thought of a perfect reply to such provocating words. "That's very sweet talk for one who used to have such a questionable reputation."

Merimac grinned, half hiding his smirk behind his cup. The sheepish expression made him look young, even though the first silver threads had already streaked his hair. Fine lines gathered around the corner of his eyes and mouth making his laughter all the more fetching - it was the very smile she had once fallen in love with. "I'm afraid you've foiled any reputation I might have had, but I am sure your son will have one soon enough."

"Let us hope he is my son in that respect at least!" Adamanta countered. "It wouldn't do Buckland any good to have another Merimac Brandybuck to deal with."

Her husband chuckled and pondered this for a few moments. "No," he agreed at length, "it probably wouldn't."

Berilac had always been very like his father, but Adamanta hoped that he had not inherited that particular trait. As much as she loved her husband, she didn't even want to guess what a handful he had been to her late mother-in-law. Merimac canted an eyebrow as if knowing her thoughts, but when she did not offer a reply, he sank deeper into his chair and stared silently into the fire. Adamanta followed his example.

The merry tunes of the distant feast drifted into the small parlour and Adamanta closed her eyes imagining the people dancing to them. She could all but see Esme and Saradoc following the rhythm of the music, Hanna being twirled around by Marmadas - skirts brushing against ankles, billowing, and long curls, shawls and warm coats fluttering in the wind. And somewhere in that seething bustle, her son and nephew would hopefully be keeping themselves out of mischief.

It took her a moment to realise that the new air; a low, mellow sound, wasn't being carried here from the riverbank. It was her husband playing one of his whistles. Merimac preferred the higher pitched instrument since it lent itself perfectly to the lively tunes he so loved to play. Tonight, however, he had decided to play the lower pitched whistle that produced such a deep and rich sound - just what she liked to listen to most. The melody Merimac had chosen was sad - and yet it wasn't. Adamanta found her mind drifting even as she watched her husband.

Merimac had a faraway look as well, but then he always lost himself in his music. His eyes were dark and distant, his cheeks flushed from the firelight, and his fingers moved without conscious thought. From time to time, his features would be lit by a sudden gleam of firelight and then they would darken under a fleeting shadow as the flames fell again. Adamanta closed her eyes, keeping that picture in her mind as she let the melody bear her away.

Instead of carrying her far away, the music held her to the little room. Smells she had barely noticed before filled her nostrils: apple wood, herbs, Yule biscuits, pipe-weed, and the sickness that still clung to her body despite her efforts at washing. The crackle of the fire startled her - a rough interruption of her husband's soothing melody. Yet it gripped her mind and drew her to the river. Though she could hear her own hoarse breathing and the constant stream of music that Merimac breathed through his instrument, she could see the bonfire in her mind's eye. It stretched into the night, like long blazing fingers reaching into the sky and sparks flew into every direction. It smelled of smoke and ashes, of death; yet its glow was the life she felt drawn to.

"I wish I could see the fire," she whispered, her voice filled with longing.

The music stopped immediately and with it the odd feeling of floating ended. When Adamanta opened her eyes, she found her husband studying her intently. He raised an eyebrow in silent question. Adamanta looked back at him helplessly, unable to find words for a yearning she had not recognised until that moment. The fire had been her favourite part of Yule since early childhood.

All of the sudden, Merimac got up and hurried out of the room. When he returned, he was dressed in his dark-green coat and carried two blankets which he laid on her feet before carefully unfolding one. Adamanta followed his movements suspiciously, but only found her voice when he started tucking the blankets around her and packing her in. "What are you doing?"

"Making you happy," Merimac replied and grinned at her like a boy up to mischief. Taking the half-empty cup of tea from her hands, he continued his ministrations folding the second blanket about her in the same way.

Curiosity held her tongue. Whatever Merimac had in mind, he looked determined to do it. The sleeve of her robe slid off her shoulder and he clucked in disapproval as he pushed it back up and continued to "dress her properly" as he put it. Adamanta finally protested when Merimac drew the blankets well over her chin and tucked her in so tightly that she couldn't even move.

"Whatever you're planning, you will suffocate me if you don't allow me even a little…"

Her complaint was silenced by a deep and fiery kiss. It stroked her surprised lips and left her breathless and dizzy. Adamanta looked up at him, gasping, another, until now unnoticed longing awakening in her. Merimac grinned, smug in the effect he had on her and then paused as if reconsidering his course. He bent and gave her another kiss, as full of passion as the first, but with more promise of things to come and gave her bindings a final tuck.

"So, are you going to kidnap me bundled up like this?" Adamanta asked, still not quite sure what her husband had in mind.

Merimac's grin broadened. "That would be tempting, but I'm afraid tonight I have other plans." He winked conspiratorially causing a thrill of excitement to course through her. Adamanta let him hoist her into his arms, even though she felt a little unsure of her husband's intentions.

"Where are we going, Mac?" she asked, wriggling her arms free so that she could wrap them around her husband's neck.

"If you don't keep yourself warmly covered," he said, nodding at the corner of a blanket which had slipped from her shoulders, "we're not going anywhere."

Adamanta sighed but complied nonetheless. "As you wish, mother hen on duty."

The look of confusion on his face was so endearing that Adamanta could not help sniggering. Merimac probably didn't even realise that he was waiting on her hand and foot. He couldn't have been more attentive if it had been Berilac who was ill. Leaning contently against his shoulder, she waited to see what Merimac had in store for her.

They passed several dimly lit corridors - empty, for once. Merimac's steps echoed and his breathing was just a little strained. Adamanta felt guilty but knew that Merimac would not allow her to walk herself. Once he set his will, nothing and no one could dissuade him.

Her cheeks tingled as they stepped into the open. The night was cold and dark, the few lamps at the Hall's western entrance provided the only source of light. Adamanta closed her eyes, savouring the freshness of the air which seemed to chase away all weariness.

But Merimac had not yet reached his destination. Taking a deep breath, he stepped across the frozen grass and ascended the small hill west of Brandy Hall. There he sat her down on the wooden bench beneath the great oak that grew from the crest of it. The wind whistled through bare branches and bent the leafless twigs. Adamanta shivered a little, suddenly chilled, as Merimac shook out his arms, but when he sat down behind her and drew her body against his, she warmed immediately. She smiled fondly at him as she snuggled against his chest. "There was no need to carry me here."

"Wasn't there?" he replied. He drew her even closer, absently putting her blankets back into place and took her hands into his own to keep them warm. "Then, my love, you should not only start to listen but also look."

He nodded toward the north-west. At that moment, the musicians at the feast struck up their instruments and far off in the distance, shining brightly between the barren trees, there shone a red and golden glow. Adamanta gasped in surprise. Flames licked into the sky like dancing fairies, their blurred reflections on the river imitating their every move. Occasionally a shadow would disturb the pattern of light - the celebration was in full swing.

"Are you warm enough?" asked Merimac, breathing a kiss onto her hair.

Even had she been chilled to the bones, Adamanta would not have cared. Her heart ached with joy and her eyes were fixed on the fire, enthralled by its light. She felt as if she was young again - a child beholding the wonders and delights of Yule for the first time. She clasped her husband's hand tighter as if afraid of losing herself in something she had thought out of reach. She did not realise she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips. She turned to face her husband but her voice failed her. Silently, she formed the words 'thank you'.

Merimac smiled down at her lovingly and kissed a tear away. "Merry Yule, my love."

A merry time it was! It would not have been Yule had she not been able to see the fire. How could she ever thank the one who had gifted her with this sight? "Mac," she whispered and struggled to sit up. Her husband tightened his grip.

"Don't fret, my love," he said. "Take in the sight while you can. We shouldn't stay too long," And then he added in a lower voice, "though my arms would be glad if we did."

"I can walk," Adamanta assured him with a slight smile.

"Yes, and catch your death from it," Merimac playfully chided her. "I'd rather carry you back inside."

"Stubborn Brandybuck," she muttered and stretched to kiss his cheek. Merimac caught her lips instead. Adamanta closed her eyes savouring his warmth and nearness as if it were the first time she had been so close to him.

At length, she leaned back contently against him, her eyes wandering to the bonfire once more. "Thank you," she whispered. The music still drifted up to them, but Adamanta's mind was with her husband and the love that filled her. The fire might be the icing on the cake, but now she understood that all she needed for a perfect Yule was her Merimac.

~THE END~