Degger blinked his eyes open.

His face was cold, wet. 

How... ? 

Ah, yes.  The branch was too low; he didn’t see it until it was upon him.  Fortunately, his reflexes were quick enough to grab hold of it, rather than be swept off his saddle and thrown to the ground.  Nothing could be worse than that for someone who already had a lame foot and arm.  No, instead he grabbed the tree branch...and then hung in the air for what seemed an eternity...before his one-armed grip slipped on the icy bark and dropped him six feet to the waiting snow.

He remembered the events!  That elevated Degger’s spirits a little.  He had learnt from his post-battle recovery that recalling what happened before losing consciousness is good sign.  To this day, he has no remembrance of what happened before his battle injuries, other than what his friends have told him.  Today, though, he had been stunned by the fall, but he didn’t black out.  This is good news! 

When Degger made an attempt to sit up he felt a familiar stab in his left side during the effort.  Well, I have been stunned, and it appears I’ve cracked a rib.  What else have I done t’ myself?

He allowed a minute or two to pass before trying to use his good foot to stand up.    Another jolt of pain! 

Degger lay back into the cold snow, almost in tears, his left foot throbbing.  “Oh, no... ,” he lamented aloud.  “Now I’ve gone and broke the other one.  She won’t want me like this.”

I can’t get t’ my feet, and I’m stranded here on the open road.  At least I have her gift!  But now...no one will see me on the road in the dark; everyone is attending Yule feasts.  Degger knew Pippin would eventually remember that he was out here and would miss him... but when?  He’ll be caught up in all the Yule festivities.  I can’t blame him.  I hope he – or someone -- comes to claim me soon, Degger said in his thoughts, and then closed his eyes to await his doom.

                                                      ~ * * * * * * ~

Pippin halted in the middle of the road; in the glow of a distant lamp he saw a dark figure lying face down in the snow.  He sent a shrill whistle up into the air before urging his pony into action, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t who he feared it might be.

Jumping down from his pony as he approached the prone figure, Pippin noticed the long trail of flattened snow the person had left in their wake, as if he (or she) had been desperately crawling toward something.  He instantly recognised the dark blue fur lined cloak and the black coat that peeked out from underneath.  Kneeling down beside his friend, Pippin brushed off the dusting of snow that had since fallen.

“Is that you, Pippin?”

The voice was muffled and unquestionably weak, but it was certainly Degger’s.  There was no doubt now.

“I’m here, Degger,” said Pippin, stroking the flushed cheek of his cousin’s face.  “We’ve come to take you home.”

“Is it warm at home?  I’m so cold.”

“It is very warm at home,” Pippin replied softly.  Looking up, Pippin saw the covered sledge round the bend with Merry holding the reins and Merimas sitting beside him.  “Hurry, Merry!” Pippin shouted, “I think delirium has set in.”

Merimas insisted on looking over the patient before they carried him into the sledge.  He and Merry removed Degger’s soaked coat and cloak, and then wrapped him in the thick blankets they had brought.  “I’ll examine his fingers and toes after we get him inside,” he said.  “Have a care for his rib,” he said as they lifted the injured hobbit.

“I’m not delirious,” said Degger, as he lay upon one of the benches inside the sledge.  After examining his toes, Merimas determined that Degger’s ankle was badly sprained, but not broken; however, the rib was definitely cracked.

“Maybe not delirious, but he’s completely daft,” Merry was quick to respond.  “What was so important that you couldn’t wait until the weather cleared up?”

“This,” said Pippin none too happy, holding up a bottle of wine. “I found it in your saddlebag.”

Merry looked at it in disgust.  “Please tell me you didn’t risk life and limb over a bottle of wine.”

“Of course not,” said Degger, feeling a bit warmer, and rather insulted at the implication.  “I said t’ you, Pippin, that I forgot my betrothal gift.  Draco gave me the wine as payment for the third copy o’ his marriage certificate, an’ I merely thought t’ bring it home with me.”  Degger actually intended to open it at the wedding... if there would be one. “Someone hand my coat to me, please.”

Degger reached for his coat, yet the hand that rendered it was slim and feminine.  And Degger wasn’t the only one flabbergasted.  “Mellie,” he said, though Degger was unsure if he should be embarrassed or elated.

“Mel, what are doing here?” Merimas demanded of his youngest sister.

Unabashed, Melilot stepped into the light of the lantern that streamed through the compartment window.  The soft, brown ringlets that earlier at dinner had been pinned up behind her head now cascaded about her shoulders.  “Did you seriously think that I was going to wait at Great Smials for word of Degger?”

“Yes, I did think that,” Merimas said sternly.

“Well, I wasn’t going to,” she replied with equal fervour.  Then turning to the amazed, and half frozen hobbit lying on the bench, she asked, “Is it true, Degger? You risked your life for my betrothal gift?”

Degger sat up and watched as the other lads rolled their eyes.  “I didn’t see it as risking my life, but my plan t’ propose t’ you tonight was of utmost importance t’ me.  You’re all I can think about of late.  I want t’ think of no one else for the rest of my life.”  At this, he reached inside the inner pocket of his coat, bringing out a small leather pouch.  He still trembled a bit from the cold.  “Will you marry me?”

Hearing Degger’s revelation, Melilot’s eyes filled with loving tears. “Oh, yes!  You’re shivering,” she said.  Taking off her own coat, she slipped inside the blanket Degger held about his shoulders.  She watched silently as he emptied the contents into the palm of his hand.  It’s was a silver necklace with a garnet stone inside a silver teardrop pendant.

Merimas, Merry, and Pippin all sat on the other bench in the sledge, gaping at what was transpiring before them.

“It isn’t as if we didn’t know they were in love,” Merimas whispered to his companions. “He asked our father for her hand in marriage the last time your family visited the Hall, Pippin.  And he gave his blessing without reserve.  I certainly approved as well.”

“Perhaps we ought to give them a moment of privacy,” offered Merry.  He’d been through this ritual with Estella and was glad there had been no prying eyes about.  Merimas might not be as approving in a few short minutes.

“I don’t think so,” said Pippin.  “If our cousin is brave enough to do this in front of his friends, then his friends should sit here and support him.”

“Be supportive, or nosey?” Merry asked sarcastically.  Pippin didn’t answer, but merely watched the situation going on across the compartment.

Melilot observed Degger struggling with the clasp of the pendant and turned to assist.

Use your left hand, Pippin urged his friend in his thoughts.

“I got it,” Degger said softly, when he saw his intended turn to help.  Smiling at his achievement, he gave a wink to Pippin as he re-clasped it around his beloved’s neck.

When Melilot turned again, it wasn’t to help Degger.  It was to kiss him fully and passionately on the lips.

“Well!  Time to go back to the Smials,” said Merimas rather hastily, pushing Merry towards the door.  “You drive.”  Merry looked at his cousin with amusement.  “Somebody has to stay here and chaperone,” Merimas quickly added.

“Are you warm, Degger?” asked Melilot, her head leaning upon Degger’s shoulder.

“Very warm, indeed.”

~ The End ~

Thank you for reading

Gray Wonderer found the link to "There's Always Hope"

http://talechallenge25.livejournal.com/1478.html

Thanks, GW!