Chapter Six: The Importance of Love

Summer moved on and slowly turned into autumn. Trees were crowned in red and gold and mist covered the meadows in the morning like a thin, white blanket. It was an eerie season. No children collected chestnuts and acorns to create tiny animals which would decorate their rooms at least until Yule. Few tweens were seen gathering the last of the windfall and this year no end of harvest cheer would come up. As the days grew short no lanterns were lit to make the grey hours of evening more pleasant and no young couple was seen enjoying a walk on the last balmy days.

Instead a ghostly silence settled on the land and the stink of smoke hung in the air. Doors were kept locked all day and curtains were drawn before sunset. Wind rustled in dead leaves nobody cared to sweep from their front gardens, and went whining through eaves and chimneys. The first frost was not far and already dewdrops hung on the grass in the first hours of morning, but no hobbit was out to feel their cool wetness on their feet. No one left home until the sun was high end even then they only went if they had to. The Master had not gone to inspect the High Hay and the fires that so often burned close to the hedge as a warning to the trees were not lit. Buckland was robbed of its life and it was only in Hall-land that some lanterns burned and workers were out from time to time. Yet they always travelled in groups and the securing of boats which was usually accompanied by rhythmic song was done in silence and included many a nervous glance over one’s shoulder.

After the nightly raids were over, spirits in Brandy Hall rose considerably. Esmeralda’s new food calculations showed that it would be a tough winter with no morsel to spare, but the immediate danger of starvation was, for the time being, forgotten. The sense of utter exhaustion disappeared and for a while tautness and strain went with it. But this peace of mind did not last long. The silent oppression from outside their haven was not easily forgotten especially when the inns were closed and one and all were stuck at home every evening. Brandy Hall’s main parlours were crowed, and though the hobbits pretended not to notice the air was stiff and stifling Adamanta came to fully appreciate Bluebell’s feeling of being caged. Every time she entered one of the stuffed common rooms her heart beat fast and she broke into a sweat. Her breathing quickened and before long she felt like choking and had to leave. Never had Brandy Hall been that packed with entire families of four and five or even more, sharing a single room simply to have somewhere to stay – a place where they did not feel threatened.

Adamanta pitied them and wholeheartedly approved of Saradoc’s open door policy, yet she had never been that glad to live in the Brandybuck’s family wing on the upper level. This was her refuge and it was there, in one of the smaller sitting-rooms, she spent almost every evening with her husband, her children, and her daughter-in-law.

This night was no different. She sat by the window, as had become her habit, and listened to the rain clattering against the glass and the howling of the wind. The sound made her shiver in spite of the flickering fire that burned in the hearth. It reminded her of whispered voices, bearers of news, but what they said was unclear and Adamanta doubted she really wanted to know.

It was Esmeralda who had first mentioned voices. At the beginning of last spring her friend had advanced her all smiles and in high spirits. She had spoken of good fortune and a new hope rising. The wind had told her, she had said, and Adamanta sometimes wondered whether her sister-in-law possessed that same gift of Seeing her brother had inherited. Yet neither good fortune nor hope had come and Esmeralda had never again spoken of the wind. She had lost weight and these days she hid herself in Meriadoc’s room whenever she was not needed as Mistress of Buckland. Adamanta would not blame her for a single look at her own son was enough to remind her of the despair she had felt when he had been wounded.

She looked over her shoulder as if to make sure he was indeed with her and smiled when she saw him engaged in a board game with Bluebell. They sat by the fire. Their faces glowed golden and the tip of Bluebell’s tongue furiously licked over her lower lip as she considered her next move.

“Take the very left one.”

Adamanta almost jumped at the sound of her husband’s voice. He stood by the door. Wet curls hung into his face. He had been with Saradoc and stood watch at the border. Hall-land felt the pressure at all sides and Saradoc had doubled and tripled the guards. He was out most of the time as well and Merimac usually went with him.

“No taking sides!” Berilac complained, but smiled at his father, who in turn winked at Bluebell.

“Nel is all but eating your pieces with her eyes and I’m sure she whispers in your ear too, so I guess it is all right if your lone opponent gets some support.”

Pimpernel who sat next to Berilac with her head on his shoulder, blushed a deep shade of pink while Bluebell broke into a badly concealed snicker.

Adamanta smiled. It did well to hear his humour had not completely left Merimac although it rarely showed these days. She got up to welcome him with a kiss and noticed with regret that his eyes were more troubled than his comment had suggested. “Is everything all right?” she wondered nervously.

“Not worse than it had been,” Merimac replied quietly, but when Adamanta tried to kiss him again he pulled away and retreated to the far corner of the room where he sank into a chair and closed his eyes wearily. He was not aware that four pairs of concerned eyes were turned towards him. They had all noticed a change in him. Dark lines of worry had carved themselves onto his brow and he detached himself from them even when he sat in the same room.

It frightened them, especially Bluebell who feared it was an aftermath of their many quarrels. It was Berilac who consoled the girl and it had also been Berilac who had first spoken to his father. Adamanta could well remember the argument she had overheard from the adjoining room knowing in her heart that if Berilac did not reach him she hardly would.

“I know your relationship has not been the best of late and I saw your point, but now you hurt Bluebell without reason.”

“I’m sorry.” Merimac’s voice had been uncommonly low. “I had a bad day.”

“You only have bad days of late,” it was an accusation, yet his voice softened and became almost gentle. “Please, pull yourself together for her sake and mother’s if not for anybody else.”

Adamanta knew that had hit a nerve even though she could not see him. A long silence followed in which she had to fight the urge to press her ear against the wall and listen.

“Father,” Berilac’s voice was entreating him now. “You know Nel is with child. I need you to guide me.”

She never saw the expression on Merimac’s face and yet she thought she knew it. He was shocked and pained to realise he denied his son what he so frequently sought when he was in the same situation: the supporting words of his father.

“I can’t,” he replied and the haunted tone of his voice sent a chill crawling down her back. The next thing she heard was the door being pulled open and hurried steps down the corridor.

Merimac never mentioned that conversation to her although she was sure he knew Berilac had told her. His sorrow went deeper than anything she had ever witnessed in him, but he would not confide in her, would laugh even, and that was what felt the wrongest among all the wrongs in Buckland and the Shire.

They had little news from outside Hall-land. What did reach their ears was bleak and made them even warier. Men now beat up folks without reason and no father or husband left his family alone anymore too afraid that Big Folk might show up at his doorstep unexpectedly. Even within their refuge everybody seemed to wait for an assault they had expected while they were still raiding the fields. Merimac especially; at least that much he had let on.

She sighed and sat back down. Berilac now looked at her and she nodded. Yes, she would talk to him again.

~*~*~

Adamanta still heard the wind when she got ready for bed. The fire in their room had burned low and the glowing embers offered just enough light to distinguish shapes. The comforting smell of apple wood teased her nose as the bed creaked and she nestled into her pillows. Merimac had his back turned to her which pained her even more than his silence.

“Merimac?” she whispered hesitatingly and placed her hand on his arm.

He flinched as if burned and Adamanta quickly drew her hand back. Her heart beat fast and her throat was tight but she swallowed the pain she felt at his rejection. “What is the matter?” she asked instead, concerned.

“Nothing,” Merimac replied coldly. “Just leave me.”

It stung. Never had he spoken to her in such a voice and for a painful moment she was tempted to, indeed, draw away from him as he wished her to. Then she remembered the look on her children’s eyes and her determination awoke. Her eyes glistened as she pondered her husband’s motionless form and it was deep love rather than anger that lead to her next move and perhaps made all the difference.

She slid closer to his side of the bed, put first her arm around him and when he tried to pull away she pressed the entire length of her body against him. For a moment Merimac froze as if in shock. Every muscle tensed. He stopped breathing.

“Please,” Adamanta entreated him and was surprised to find she spoke out loud. A tremor went through Merimac’s body and she closed her eyes not knowing that he had done the same.

“I can’t.” his voice sounded like the sighing of the wind. He took hold of her hand, gentle at first, and then pushed it from him with determination. Before Adamanta could do anything else he had hastened out of bed. His eyes were full of pain with no hint of the coldness that had been in his voice. “Don’t you see that I can’t?”

Adamanta pushed herself up on one elbow. “Can’t do what?”

Merimac took a deep breath and held it. He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes shut and turned his back on her. His shoulders shook and to Adamanta he suddenly seemed painfully young and insecure. Her heart wept to see him so.

After a few breaths he regained his composure and his back straightened. He stared at the wall, a dark shadow against the greyness of their room, and the callousness returned to his voice. “I cannot bear to love you.”

It was her turn to hold her breath. The arm on which she leaned threatened to give way and tears sprang to her eyes. If he had slapped her it could not have been more painful. A thousand memories rushed into her mind: the birth of their children, their wedding day, his visits to Scary, walks on the riverbank, dances at Yule and Lithe, and a thousand occasions he had surprised her with just being himself; the twinkle in his eyes, the laughter, the love, the comfort of his touch, his smell. Of course, there had been arguments, but together they had overcome all obstacles. They were meant to spend their lives together – or so she had thought. And as if from a distance she heard his voice.

“When the time comes, will you let me go?”

“No,” she whispered but Merimac no longer heeded her.

He walked up and down the room and talked to himself, his tone becoming more and more agitated with each word until she no longer recognised her husband’s voice. “Something is going to happen, should have happened already. How I wish there was a battle! It would take away the tension and fear and give us something to do even if we just die in an attempt to save our home. If only we had more bows like the Tooks and could shoot from a distance.”

“Stop it!” Adamanta’s voice was shrill with fear. Her heart drummed in her head. A chill had taken hold of her and her every limb trembled even as tears of pain and fear streamed down her face. “Stop talking such nonsense and listen to me!”

But he would not. To Adamanta it seemed as if he was no longer with her. A ghost, a shadow paced from one end of their bed chamber to the other. It looked like her husband, but everything that was Merimac was gone. She could not feel his presence and still that figure rambled on.

“When the time comes, will you let me go?”

“No!” Before she knew what she was doing she jumped out of her bed and ran after him. She only realised she had slapped him when she noticed the red mark on his barely illuminated face. Shocked by this deed she stumbled backwards and covered her mouth with her hands.

Merimac looked at her, stunned and wide-eyed. His breathing was laboured and hitched. For a long while his eyes seemed to stare right through her. Even in the scarce light of their room his face looked ashen apart from the red mark on his cheek. After what felt like a lifetime his left hand moved to touch his cheek and his expression became one of wonder.

“You are no murderer,” Adamanta said quietly and tentatively advanced him, “so don’t speak as one.”

At that his eyes cleared fully and if her heart had not broken before the agony she saw in them now was destined to shatter it to pieces. “But I am,” he whispered and walked shakily towards the bed where he sat down and stared at his hands as if he had never seen them before. “There is so much blood on my hands already. I can smell it even now.” He grimaced in disgust and turned away from them.

“The ponies?” Adamanta wondered and swallowed the lump in her throat. “You can’t compare that.”

Merimac shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t, but it aches nonetheless.” He looked at her almost apologetically. “They were good beasts.” He sighed heavily and clenched his fists once more. “They should not die because that cursed Lotho Pimple has gone power-hungry. No one should even have to fight!”

Adamanta looked at him. “This is not about the ponies, is it?”

Again Merimac shook his head but to Adamanta it seemed as if for a second time that night he was no longer aware of her. His voice, weak and trembling before turned grim once more. “I always knew he was a fool but what possessed him to believe he could control Men once they are in the Shire? Folk get hurt and die because of his greed and stupidity!”

Adamanta watched and listened with concern before she sat down beside him and gently took his hand into hers. “Merimac?”

He flinched, but then he lifted his head to look at her and his eyes were full of grief and a love that betrayed his earlier words. As if by impulse he kissed her hand before he laid it back into her lap. “I’m sorry, but I can’t love you any longer.” His voice was soft and after a long look into her tear-filled eyes he lowered his head. “I’m too afraid already and if I love you the fear will be even greater and so will the pain should anything happen to you, Berilac or Bluebell.”

Being rejected had been painful but to learn Merimac kept his distance not because he did not love her, but because he loved her too much to let her go set her heart to bleeding. She was numb and confused and for a long moment neither of them spoke.

"You think it will be better when you push me from you? When you pretend not to love me?” she said at last and Merimac winced and closed his eyes as if in pain. She was tempted to force him to look at her but his trembling stayed her hand. Instead she put what she meant to say with her eyes into her voice which suddenly was stronger than it had been all evening. “No, Merimac. It will make all worse. Should anything happen, and I don’t think the battle of life and death you and so many others go on about will come,” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Should anything happen you would suffer even more if you draw back now. You would wish that you had spent time with your family while you still could.”

She touched his shaking shoulder and this time he did not withdraw. She swallowed hard but her tears overwhelmed her. “Do you remember how, many years ago, you told me you did not want to become as your father had been after your mother’s death?”

Silence. Adamanta’s skin prickled as she listened to their shaking breathing. Part of her was afraid of losing him again to that shadow-like ghost he had become, but her senses told her he was with her.

“You remember that?” he suddenly asked in wonder and turned to look at her. His eyes glittered with unshed tears and on his cheeks were the traces of those that had escaped.

She nodded. “And so should you, for you have become like him, but unlike him you have your wife with you, as well as two wonderful children who trust in you and count on you.”

His eyes widened with a mixture of fright and guilt, but he made no reply. Instead more tears trailed down his cheeks and Adamanta reached out her hand to brush one away and comb her fingers through his hair. “Don’t give up now,” she entreated him softly. “I will lose my strength if you do.”

A sob escaped his lips that seemed bemused and helpless at the same time. He looked at her apologetically and his tears made his words even more poignant. “I don’t think there is any strength left in me.”

“There is,” Adamanta replied earnestly and secretly wondered how much strength and willpower he had needed simply to make up his mind not to show them his love anymore. He had meant to protect himself – and them – and had ended up breaking his own heart for Adamanta now knew that the deep sorrow she had noticed was the heartache and suffering he had brought upon himself. “I know there is,” she repeated.

Merimac looked at her with such pitiful eyes Adamanta had to restrain herself not to kiss that sorrow away. This was his decision. The next move was his. Only he could take away their pain.

And he did. After what felt like hours he kissed her tentatively, as if afraid she might draw away. He broke into more tears when she did not and flung her arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve been a fool. I thought it might be easier if…” he gasped for breath. “It wasn’t. It made everything worse, but I couldn’t tell.”

Adamanta did not reply but began to kiss away every single tear on his face while Merimac stuttered on about how afraid he was and how he could not bear to lose any of them like he almost lost Berilac. And as she kissed his face over and over again and whispered soothing words of assurance, he slowly calmed down and she felt her own fear weaken. Never had she seen him like this and she hoped she never would again.