Title: A Father's Reflection
Rating: G
Summary: Shortly before the birth of his first child Merimac ponders his new role as a father and husband. Adamanta unwittingly puts him to the test many years later.

Special thanks to Ariel.

~*~*~

Merimac was lulled by his wife's soft breathing. The embers had long grown cold, but the smell of wood lingered in the air like the memory of the glowing warmth that had arisen from it. Merimac buried his face in the scent of beeswax and apple, Adamanta's favourite soap, and allowed her curls to tickle his cheeks as he nuzzled her nape. Adamanta made a little noise as if disturbed by Merimac's gentle caress. He breathed a kiss on the soft skin before propping himself up on his elbow.

A silver moon shone through the small window underlining his beloved's flawless, tender features. Wild, auburn curls hung over eyes whose long lashes painted even longer shadows on high cheekbones. A slightly pointed nose led to wine-coloured lips, a pale neck, and the soft curves of her breasts. And then - Merimac stretched out his hand to place it on his wife's swollen belly - the blessing that was granted them. A blessing, Merimac realised, that filled him with as much fear as joy. Could he really be a father? Would he be able to give a child what it needed? Was he ready to care for a family?

Merimac pressed his body against Adamanta's once more and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply the scent of her hair and skin. Would she forgive him if he failed? Could he? He had not known love until Adamanta came into his life. A child was the fulfilment of that love. He was full of expectation and could not wait until he finally held his son or daughter in his arms. But at the same time, the prospect filled him with dread.

According to his mother, the new Brandybuck would arrive in a matter of days. Everything was ready, though with little Frodo being recently orphaned and causing so much trouble, life in Brandy Hall had been in a bit of a turmoil. The grieving Bagginses had stayed long in Buckland, comforting the young boy and trying to convince Saradoc to hand over his care to them, but in the end, Saradoc had won. Frodo would stay in Buckland for the time being, and would soon meet his cousin - the child Merimac would have to do for just as his brother now cared for Frodo. His child. The idea still seemed impossible. His child, growing within his wife - a product of their love.

Merimac shook his head and with a last quick kiss on his beloved's temple, slipped out of their bed. He had to clear his mind. Binding the belt of his bathrobe, Merimac stepped into the corridor and started up the corridor. Three nights ago his father had decided they no longer needed to sit watch in front of Frodo's apartments. Merimac stopped at the door, just two up from his own, and peeked in anyhow. Guarding Frodo had almost become a habit and Merimac was relieved to find his cousin curled up in peaceful slumber. The child's pale face was illuminated by the moonlight and Merimac felt an odd pain as he watched his cousin. He remembered the tears the boy had shed the past few weeks. Frodo's love for his parents was still incredibly strong. Would his child love him that much? Would Merimac be the father this baby deserved?

Heaving a heavy sigh, Merimac closed the door. He was not used to such brooding and hoped a cup of tea would ease his mind. He could see a soft glow shining from beneath the kitchen door. To Merimac's great astonishment, he found the Master sitting at table, his face contemplative and his hands wrapped around a cup of tea. "Father!"

"Son," Rorimac greeted and smiled as Merimac hesitated a moment longer. "You can't sleep either, eh?"

Merimac shook his head.

"It's the full moon, you know," Rorimac informed him as Merimac prepared his tea. "It always robs my sleep."

Merimac plopped down on the chair opposite to his father's, chin resting in his left hand while the other listlessly stirred the steaming liquid of his cup. The sourish-sweet smell of melissa tickled his nose while the candles' glow warmed his cheek. Merimac was well aware that his father was watching him but he didn't even mind. Having Rorimac at his side no longer made him feel like he was fleeing from the inevitable.

"Mac?" Merimac started at the sound of his father's voice. "You look troubled. What's the matter?"

Heaving a sigh that was far heavier than Merimac had intended, he shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm worried because I'm worrying."

"Worrying about what?"

Merimac shook his head, feeling unsure whether he really wanted to discuss such matters with his father and not knowing how to explain them anyway. He sipped his tea in silence, glad that Rorimac did not press him. But Rorimac continued to watch him and the intensity of his gaze encouraged Merimac to speak.

"I don't think I can do this, father. I don't know anything about babies. What if I break the poor child? Adamanta would…" He broke off and chuckled dryly. "Well, she's had too much patience with me to be tested further." His hands closed around the teacup he was staring into. "I'm just so afraid of where this will lead to."

Helplessly, Merimac met his father's eyes. "I've always lived for the moment. I don't know how to," He made a feeble movement with his hands and let out a breath of air, "plan ahead."

Rorimac watched him as if waiting for more. When Merimac didn't offer more, he nodded reassuringly. "You know how to, and if you don't, you will learn." His father smiled as if at a memory. He took a sip from his tea. "You think this is easy for any of us? I had the same worries when your mother was pregnant the first time."

"You?" Merimac asked, having a hard time imagining it.

"Yes, me," Rorimac answered. "I wasn't born the Master, you know."

Merimac smiled and resumed thoughtfully stirring his tea as the silence once again filled the room.

"I've never told anyone but I've always pictured myself with a family." Merimac shrugged without looking up. "It's just what is expected, I suppose, but I never considered what it would feel like, what it meant to have someone you're this close with."

Rorimac chuckled. "I remember well the nervous wreck you were days before your wedding. Saradoc had his hands full to keep you from running off."

Merimac laughed wryly at the memory before looking helplessly at his father. "I wish I could run off now."

"No, you don't," his father told him without hesitation. "You're too keen on the idea of becoming a father. Don't frown. I know you are. You wouldn't worry about it so much if you weren't."

Merimac hesitated before pointing out: "But once the child arrives…,"

"… It will get even better," Rorimac assured. "Being a father is like being on a quest. You always want the best for your child and if you work hard enough your children will give their best back to you." The fond smile on his father's face grew even more benevolent. "Some of your steps might be wrong and there will be shadows and even storms along the way, but if at the end of the day you can look back with a smile or even laugh at the folly that is life, you shall be a happy man."

"Of course, you could always look back and smile before bed," Merimac laughed.

"No," Rorimac acknowledged. "At least one of my sons made that rather difficult from time to time. But I wasn't alone, and neither are you, boy. Your Adamanta is with you and she will help you smile as your mother helped me."

Merimac smiled fondly. "She does already."

"Of course, she does!" Rorimac agreed. "And soon your child will be another source of joy, no matter how much trouble the little one causes."

His father winked conspiratorially and rose to collect their mugs. "You should've been in your bed long ago, boy."

Though Merimac did not object, a pleasant weariness was already creeping into his bones, he chuckled as he got up. "You'll never stop behaving like my father, will you?"

Rorimac smiled and laid a good-natured arm around his shoulders. "No."

Sighing in mock exasperation Merimac allowed Rorimac to lead him down the corridor. His heart was lighter now and for the first time in many days he awaited his child's arrival with only joy. Thanks to his father he would manage. And he would be a good father because he would always be able to ask his own for advice.

"Thank you," he said honestly after exchanging good nights.

Rorimac smiled and fondly squeezed his shoulder before he staggered into his own room. Merimac watched him disappear and smiled to himself. He had never realised it but Rorimac Brandybuck was the best father a hobbit could wish for. If he did half as well as his father had, Merimac would be content.

~*~*~

Blothmath, 1401

Merimac well remembered the day Berilac came into this world. Over fourteen hours Adamanta had lain in labour before his son had finally arrived - just in time for second breakfast. All wet and slippery, the little hobbitling had lain in his arms voicing his protest at the top of his tiny lungs, the already rosy cheeks colouring further from the effort. His heart had immediately swelled with love for his boy, especially when he realised how much the child reacted to him mere moments after being born. At the sound of his comforting voice, the baby had quieted, listening and struggling to open his eyes, but the long birth had exhausted little Berilac as much as it had his mother and they soon drooped again. The memory of the moment was enough to still make his eyes water. It was indeed a miracle.

Yet, it was not the only one granted to him and Adamanta. After Berilac, neither thought they would want more children for several years. In fact, the matter did not arise again until Peregrin Took was born. Adamanta admitted fancying the idea of another child and Merimac found himself delighted at the prospect of caring for a little one again.

Their efforts, however, did not bear fruit and as the years passed by they abandoned the thought of a bigger family. But then the year 1401 arrived and at Lithe it was clear that Adamanta was expecting.

Berilac had not been very excited. "But you're so old!" he had told them, looking sceptically at his mother's rounding body.

"Old?!" Merimac had huffed in disbelief. "Rest assured, my boy, that on your 59th birthday I will be at your side all day to tell you just how old you are becoming."

Berilac had not known what to answer to that and had not raised the topic of a sibling again, but he grew more and more annoyed at the prospect as Adamanta's pregnancy proceeded. Merimac could not blame him, since the following months proved to be a crucial test for everyone.

While the first pregnancy had been an easy one with Adamanta's only woes being morning sicknesses, an aching back, and swollen feet, this second one robbed Merimac of every single nerve he possessed. She was moody. Oh, she was more than that! She was a spitfire and no matter what Merimac did, nothing could please her. He spent many nights in a guest room fearing he would do something he might regret if he stayed with her. During the days he kept himself busy in the stables or took off with Berilac, who, now a tween, was his apprentice and at his side nearly all day long.

Merimac knew it was unfair of him to keep away from Adamanta and he was sure his mother would have given him a piece of her mind had she still been alive to do so. But he simply could not bear it. He did not remember Adamanta ever having such mood swings before. There were days when he seriously wondered whether the woman beside him was still the same one he had married.

Today was one of those days. Adamanta was all smiles when she told him her latest ideas for names. She had a whole list of them, not all of which were to Merimac's liking, but he knew better than to object.

But when an expanded silence stretched out between them, her mood changed. She looked at him, long and intensely, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes. "You don't like my ideas!"

"Of course, I do," Merimac quickly assured her. "Who wouldn't like to call his son...," he thought hard for a moment, "Rumil, was it? And Bonnie is really… pretty." Merimac managed a wry smile secretly entreating his wife to reconsider her choices.

Adamanta studied his face intently. At last she sniffed and lowered her head. "You think them ugly - just like me."

Merimac was caught for an answer. For seconds he simply gaped at her. "I would never say such a thing!"

"But you're thinking it!" Adamanta insisted. "You think I'm fat and ugly! The worst part is that I feel like the barrel you see in me!"

With an effort Merimac stifled the snicker which threatened to escape him. Adamanta had gained a lot more weight than during her pregnancy with Berilac. Yet he would never compare her to a barrel. An abdominous flagon perhaps, but never a barrel - and that only when he was in an ill mood.

"You look beautiful," he assured her lovingly.

"Then why don't you touch me anymore?"

Merimac gulped, unsure how much he could admit. He cleared his throat, taking the risk. "When I dared come closer last night, you were the one who sent me away because I was 'squashing you' and 'robbing you of your space'." He did not mention that that space was comparatively enormous.

His words caused her tears to spill over. Merimac sucked in a breath looking at her with a mixture of pity, helplessness, and frustration. "Don't cry," he pleaded and, after a moment's hesitation, took her into his arms and combed his fingers through her hair. "I didn't mean it."

"You still love me?" Adamanta sobbed looking pleadingly into his eyes.

"Of course I do," Merimac assured and kissed her brow. "More than anything."

Adamanta smiled weakly at that and snuggled against him in a way that told Merimac her emotional outburst was over. In fact, he was quickly forgetting all disputes himself. Mantha nuzzled his neck and nibbled his earlobe in so tantalising a manner that a secret fire inflamed within him, sending heat through his veins. His grip around her tightened in pleasant anticipation.

*******

"You're going to spare me the details, aren't you?" Saradoc interrupted when Merimac recounted the scene to him after four mugs of ale.

"That's my problem!" Merimac called out in frustration. "There. Are. No. Details. We barely made it into our room and suddenly she was again convinced that I'm 'insensitive' and 'oblivious of her needs'. Me?!" he snorted. "A mulish mare is more sensitive than she is!" Merimac sighed in defeat, drained his fifth mug and peered woefully into it. "I want my wife back."

*******

It wasn't until two months later that Merimac got to see his beloved again. As exhausted as she was, he sat by her side in their shared bed gazing down at his newborn daughter admiringly. The child watched them through grey eyes Merimac knew had yet to acquire their final colour. She was beautiful, her face as gentle as her mother's.

"She's a Brandybuck through and through," Adamanta whispered as she tenderly brushed a hand over their child's dark, downy hair. Little Bluebell closed her eyes at the touch and gave a huge yawn. She whimpered and her petal-shaped lips trembled just a little as if to protest the sleepiness.

"Wait a minute, my little one," Merimac murmured his voice thick with emotion and pride. "You still need to meet your brother."

Just then, the door burst open and Berilac stumbled in at full speed startling all three of them. Bluebell hiccupped and immediately started crying. Berilac stopped short and blushed catching the warning glances Adamanta and Merimac were giving him. "I'm sorry," he mumbled and hurried to close to door, before he slowly, almost shyly advanced toward the bed.

Cradled in her father's arms and with warm hands protectively caressing her brow and cheek, Bluebell soon calmed down. She seemed oblivious to her first visitor. Merimac smiled at his son. In spite of the lad's lack of enthusiasm about having a sibling, he now seemed utterly stunned and watched the baby with awe and wonder.

"Sit down," Merimac instructed the boy nodding to the chair next to the bed. Berilac looked almost frightened, but stumbled back anyway without taking his eyes from his sister. Merimac got up and carefully placed the child in the boy's arms. From over his son's shoulder Merimac looked at his daughter who, after a moment's contemplation, snuggled against her brother. Smiling broadly, Merimac then turned his attention to his spellbound son, frowned, and ruffled the lad's curls. "Don't forget to breathe."

Berilac gave him a weak smile and almost tentatively touched Bluebell's cheek. The baby made a small noise and waved her hand at the tween. Berilac reached for it and immediately his index finger was caught in his sister's strong grip. Merimac's heart almost melted when he saw the expression in his son's eyes. There was nothing but love in them, nothing but the knowledge that Berilac would look after and protect his sister just as fiercely as Merimac himself would. He breathed a kiss onto his son's curls before sitting down next to his wife again. Adamanta winked at him, perceiving the same love.

"She is well worth the pain she put us through," Berilac announced quietly after a while.

"Hush!" Merimac scolded, but could not help to chuckle.

Adamanta canted an eyebrow. "He has clearly been spending too much time with you."

Merimac shrugged innocently and put his arm around her as she leaned against his shoulder. When Merimac kissed her temple she frowned and turned to him once more. "Have I really been that bad?"

"Worse," Merimac winked and kissed her again. "Don't fret, love. I can laugh about it now and so should you."

Adamanta did laugh then and after another long look at her children she closed her eyes and drifted off. Merimac remained by her side, holding her close and talking quietly to Berilac who seemed unwilling to let go of his sleeping sister. Becoming a father was indeed a miracle and being one was an adventure Merimac would never regret starting out on.

~THE END~