Author notes:
Special thanks to Ariel for betaing.

Chapter One: Encounter

Year: 1375

A handsome looking guy at no mistake. Too bad Violet kept warning her of him. A good-for-nothing, she called him, or worse. Last night he was Buckland's worst rascal, this afternoon, as they watched him boasting and making eyes at almost every girl at the river, he was an oaf. Violet was quite set in her opinion of the Master's youngest son and perhaps it was her cousin's dislike that constantly drew her attention towards him.

It might also have been his attitude. There was a twinkle in his eyes that reminded her very much of the young lad she had seen him with the other day. A beautiful child that. Violet had told her his name was Frodo, Frodo Baggins, a cousin to Merimac's and without any doubt very fond of him. The young lad did everything Merimac told him, even if it meant pouring cold river water over a sleeping lass who had dared turn down his tween cousin. A clever way of getting payback - for who could even think of being angry with the innocent child? Yet she hadn't missed the older lad's glowering when the young cousin won the kiss on the cheek he had doubtlessly hoped for.

And now said tween was about to sit down beside her in the shadow of a huge willow tree close by the river bank. She barely managed to suppress the smile that was lurking at the corner of her lips. So he was aware of her glances after all, though he had barely looked at her all afternoon. Not much of a surprise with Violet guarding her like a wolf would her cub.

His wet skin sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes shone a stunning green and blue which seemed even brighter against the dark brows and the dark, dripping curls framing his face. He had a prominent chin and dimpled cheeks but his features were not as angular as the Master's. His arms were strong and muscular, like his chest. Even his stomach was lean. A thin line of dark hair started at his bellybutton and disappeared under the seam of his trousers.

Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, she quickly averted her gaze.

"Why have I never seen you here?" he asked. Now that his voice was directed toward her and not merely a call in the distance, it seemed all the more captivating. It was a deep baritone and sounded like music to her ears. No wonder he was considered the heartbreaker of Buckland. He had even caught her cousin. Yet he would never manage to get her. She was not easily charmed and even if she were, she usually stayed alert enough to not have her heart stolen.

"You should have opened your eyes, Master Brandybuck," she replied dryly.

She could see him grin though she tried to keep her attention on the river flowing so gently below them. Children and adults were swimming in the brown stream that sparkled in the sun. Her cousin was among them. She would never understand the Bucklander attitude to the river. Hobbits were not made for swimming or boats and she would certainly not do more than cool her legs in the water.

"Well, then." He moved closer so she could feel the warmth of his body. "Who are you? What's your name? Where are you from and what brings you to Buckland?"

She did not know whether she should laugh or be shocked at his boldness. Either way, his nearness was too much. Wordlessly, she restored the distance between them and met him with a stern glance. He seemed to understand her warning immediately for, though his grin grew wider, there was an apologetic glimmer in his eyes. She smiled, content. "Does your father pay you to interrogate newcomers? Those are a great many questions and I'm afraid, Master Brandybuck, I do not know which to answer first."

He paused for a moment and she thought she had caught him off his guard but then something sparkled in his eyes and his smile, momentarily dimmed, returned to its full brightness. He accepted her game. "I'm afraid my efforts are not appreciated by my family. But I do hope I have not offended you with my questions, because I do have a purpose for asking them."

"A selfish one, I deem," she countered, feeling quite pleased with their conversation.

"Not at all," he cried in feigned dismay. She had to cover her mouth to hide her giggles. "You see, I know Buckland's folk well and I want visitors to feel comfortable. I could introduce you to people who share your interests, making your stay here all the more enjoyable."

"And no doubt you have many interests."

"I stopped counting them long ago."

She smiled at that and, giving her admirer a sideways glance, she leaned back in the grass, listening to calls of hobbits and birds and to the rustle of leaves above her head. Shadows danced over her face and, as the Master's youngest son lay down beside her, she stole another look at him.

"Scary," she said after a long while.

Merimac immediately sat up and frowned. "What's scary?"

"I am," she replied, her lips twitching at his bewilderment. She let him brood a little longer and stood up. "From Scary," she finished brushing some blades of grass from her dress. Just then, Violet appeared at the riverbank.

"Hoy, cousin!" Violet called out. "I thought I told you to stay away from him."

Merimac grimaced and paled visibly. He met her gaze trepidly. "Violet Grubb is your cousin?"

She shrugged. A smile brightened her face as she watched Merimac's disappointment grow. It seemed he had much the same opinion of her cousin as Violet had of him. A good-for nothing? Perhaps Violet was right, but even so, he was a charming one. With a brief goodbye wave, she ran to meet the other lass and did not answer to his request for her name. After all she had been warned. If this was a game to him, then she would set the rules and the degree of difficulty. If even half of what Violet had said was true, he would find it out sooner or later.

Chapter Two: Checkmark on the List

"Adamanta Goodbody," a voice called out triumphantly, "only daughter of Togo Goodbody and Maybell Grubb."

She turned around in surprise to find Merimac Brandybuck emerging from behind a huge oak. He was smiling from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling in the bright sunlight. He had obviously known that she was going to collect berries in the wood that day and, from the tousled look of him, had waited for her quite a while. She straightened, not letting him know how much he had startled her. "I'm amazed, Master Brandybuck. You're quick."

"I have many abilities," he told her dryly and produced a yellow rose from behind his back.

Adamanta took it with a word of thanks and brought it to her nose, smiling. She had first met Merimac personally only ten days before, though she had seen him from afar many times since arriving for the Lithe festivities last month. "I don't doubt that," she said looking up at him. "Yet I don't think you found out on your own."

"Why do you insult me every time we meet?" Merimac asked, offering her his arm nonetheless. She accepted it after a moment's hesitation. He had good manners and even Violet could not wholly blemish his reputation in that respect.

She shrugged, unsure herself why she did, and so said nothing. She was relieved when the smile, which never seemed to falter, returned to his face. "Never mind," he said waving the question aside. "You're actually correct. I did have some assistance, but I'm afraid my sources don't wish to be named."

"Very well. Keep your secrets."

She had some of her own, too. She had not been idle since their last meeting and had learned a lot about Merimac Brandybuck. He was regarded as a big child. He took nothing seriously; not physical danger nor affairs of the heart. Life was a game to him. She had heard talk of him and his cousins comparing girls' kisses at the inn, not caring that the topics of their conversation sat two tables down and overheard everything they said. All that mattered to him was the competition and the fun to be had. Most of the lasses knew to be wary of him, but a few were too naive and others enjoyed the thrill. Still others considered his family's money.

Adamanta twirled the rose in her fingertips, studying him. Merimac's elder brother was considered the catch in Buckland, but was rumoured to be engaged to a Took from Whitwell. She almost felt sorry for the youngest Brandybuck. As cavalier as he seemed, she somehow doubted he liked being the object of avaricious interest. In a way, she could understand why he didn't take anything seriously - especially women. Violet had made a valid point in her warning, but Adamanta wondered if she might be being unjust to him.

She found herself wondering if there had yet been a girl who had wanted him and not his heritance. And then she wondered what such a girl would need to do to gain his attention - and not just to become just another checkmark on his list. Glancing up at the sun-tanned face, she asked: "How did you know I would be coming here?"

"That's another secret," he replied with a wink.

Adamanta raised an eyebrow, checking her laughter. "You're full of them, aren't you?"

"I told you I had many abilities."

"And secretiveness is your best skill?"

Merimac chuckled. He looked entirely too pleased with himself as he led her along the narrow path between the trees. The light breeze, the swirling leaves and the dancing shadows gave him and even more rakish, and titillating, appearance. Adamanta found herself looking over at him more often than she might have wanted to. He noticed, and caught her gaze more than once, smiling winsomely whenever he did so. He knew precisely what he was doing and she had the sinking feeling she was going to be no match for this charming rogue.

"Now that I have found out your name, will you tell me more about yourself?" Merimac was still blunt, but Adamanta felt relieved. She could handle questions more easily than she could the feel of his arm linked in hers. She told him, unperturbedly, that it would depend on what he wished to know.

Merimac pondered that for a moment. "Very well. Perhaps I should let you decide what you want to tell me, Miss Goodbody."

"And if I don't want to talk?" She was rewarded with a grin.

"Then I will, though I can assure you, you will be bored beyond belief. At least that's my brother's opinion. He thinks I am the talkative one of us, but once he gets started on his…" Merimac checked himself, and blushed. He cleared his throat and continued in a much less excited tone. "I'm sorry. I fear I have just put my brother's opinion to proof, haven't I?"

Adamanta smiled in amusement. It was said that even the Master had given up on his son's ever growing up and leaving behind the irresponsibility of tweenhood. Yet, she found herself quite taken by him. She wondered how much truth there was in all the gossip she had heard about him, for, no matter what the common opinion was, she was enjoying his company very much.

~*~*~

She would never forget the night she had first seen him. The bonfire's red and golden flames had reached high into the sky, the long fiery fingers stretching out and drawing back. The wood sizzled, the air was a-glimmer, and all of it was mirrored in the Branywine's dark water. Her heart danced that night, though she was not among the couples moving sprightly to the merry tune. That was her first Lithe in Buckland and she had been enchanted by it.

She had only known him as the Master's son before that night. Saradoc and Merimac had appeared among the dancing hobbits, neither with a female partner and both deep into their mugs. They came onto the makeshift dance floor together, doing an energetic dance that no one but they understood. Yet the brothers were perfectly matched; each aware of the other's movements even when they danced back to back. She had not been able to take her eyes off Merimac. The grace of his moments, the twinkle in his eyes, the humour and joy on his face had won her heart then and there.

"You're thinking of him, aren't you?" The mattress protested as Violet plopped down beside her and roused her from her memories. "Of all good lads in the Shire, for you to fall for Merimac Brandybuck. It's a pity, really."

Adamanta crooked her head. "Pity? From what I've heard, you've succumbed to his charms as well."

Even in the dim light of the candles, Adamanta could see her cousin blush. "Well, he is handsome." Violet twisted the sheet between her fingertips. "Besides he kisses well."

"Violet Grubb!" Adamanta gasped. "I never thought you were that forward. So, is that why you dislike him? Because he turned you down?"

Violet huffed. "Nonsense. He's an oaf. I want a husband who will wait on me hand and foot. The day Merimac Brandybuck does that for a lass, I shall bathe naked in Brandy Hall's rain barrel."

Adamanta laughed out loud and threw her pillow into her cousin's face. The younger girl giggled, but did not counter. Instead, she handed her the hairbrush and Adamanta positioned herself to comb her cousin's hip length, black curls. She had beautiful hair; long, thick and silky, and Adamanta often envied her. Her own hair was auburn in colour, at least that was what her mother kept telling her. She thought it looked rather like the colour of sand and felt more like straw, full of knots and tangles that only long and patient combing could eventually tame.

"I've heard you're being talked about," Violet said after a while. Her face glowed in the candlelight. "Rumour has it you're 'witty' and 'not easy to charm'."

Adamanta chuckled. It seemed Buckland's ladies' man had found her a hard nut to crack.

"If only they could see what I do every evening," Violet went on, turning round and sighing dramatically, then rolling her eyes with exaggerated languor. Adamanta shoved her so she almost slipped from the bed. "You're pining away for a lad who's really is not good enough for you, Mantha, dear. You deserve better than Mac."

"Oh, you mean that Bolger-lad my father's so fond of, do you?" Adamanta shuddered at the thought of Olo Bolger. He was a nice enough fellow, able to answer for a family working on his father's farm as he was. But there was nothing about him that interested her in the slightest.

"Why not?" Violet inquired.

Adamanta gave her a doubtful glance. "Have you seen him? He's round and small and he stinks of goat. You have one look at him and you know him inside out. There's nothing captivating about him, nothing mysterious."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "So, Merimac is mysterious now?"

"No," Adamanta shook her head, feeling at a loss to explain herself. "Well, actually he is - in a way. He is sharp-witted, humorous, decent, and…"

"Decent?!" Violet choked. "Merimac?! You're sure we're speaking of the same hobbit?"

Adamanta smiled, knowing full well the expression Violet had mocked her for was taking possession of her face. Merimac might behave the tween with his friends, but in her company he had always shown himself a very decent fellow.

A cushion in her face brought her back to the present. Violet seemed ready to make her pay for almost knocking her over earlier. Adamanta pushed her younger cousin away and gave her a stern look which told the girl that she was not in the mood for a pillow fight. Violet shook her head. "You're hopeless, Mantha, really."

Sighing heavily, Violet lay her head on her shoulder and put an arm around her. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Adamanta leaned against her cousin. Was she putting too much trust in an incorrigible fool? She hoped not. But she needed to know if he was serious or if she was destined to end up like the other lasses - forgotten after a single kiss just so he could remain true to his doubtful reputation. She would have to find some way of testing him, of seeing how much he really thought of her. Only then would she allow herself to give in to his charms as she so wholeheartedly wished to.

Chapter Three: Advice

Marmadas said she was leaving by the middle of Winterfilth - that very month! Why was he always the last to learn that kind of news? Merimac had had to act quickly. He knew she would be at the river that afternoon and he had tried everything to get there before sundown, but at the last minute, the chump of a stallion he had been working with had considered his unprotected foot a right nice place to stomp. Hard. That had delayed him even further.

When he finally arrived at the river, it was almost evening, but Merimac was relieved to find Adamanta still there, thankfully without that Grubb-lass. But then--

Though he had not felt shy around her all summer, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. She asked him whether he wanted her to stay and Merimac found he was incapable of answering her. He couldn't understand it. Why should he care if she stayed? She was only a girl, after all. He could have had any other he wanted, but why was it Adamanta alone he wanted to spend his time with?

"And if I do?" he replied eventually in a seemingly casual manner. His words provoked her to smile the smile that always made a thrill run up his spine. A soft wind came up and played with the washed-out, frayed end of a scarlet ribbon she had braided into her hair. Merimac was entranced by the way the piece of fabric fluttered across her neck.

"I might be able to prolong my visit," she said and something in her expression took his breath away. She looked at him differently now; with a strange but not unpleasant openness. "Do you believe you could think of me on your birthday?"

Merimac was surprised that she knew about his coming of age and even more astonished by the effect of her question. It was considered impolite to ask for presents and Merimac usually reacted with irritation to such requests, but coming from her mouth, with her tone so shy and humble, he felt moved somehow. He immediately felt inclined to not only think of her but give her the best present of all. His present might even convince her to stay longer, for though he would never admit it, he didn't want her to leave. She was such good company and shared his sense of humour. This might be the only way to tell her so.

*******

"Shall I get you a pillow or are you comfortable enough?" Saradoc's sarcastic voice interrupted his train of thought. A moment later a painful slap on his back caused Merimac to stumble from the trunk he had been leaning against. "We're supposed to pick the windfall, lazybones, and I'm not going to do your share as well. Hurry up now!"

Merimac glared at his brother and grumbled a curse under his breath. However, his thoughts quickly returned to Adamanta's gift as he threw handful after handful of apples and pears into his crate.

"Having trouble?" Saradoc asked after a while. The older hobbit had changed places with him and was now leaning against the trunk munching an apple.

When Merimac made no reply, his brother blew the breath through his teeth. "It's worse than I thought, then."

Merimac ignored him, though he knew Saradoc would be able to think of an excellent present to give a girl, and was least likely to tease him about it afterwards. What annoyed him was that his brother seemed to know exactly what he was going through while he could not even think of a simple present. He did not like the fact that his thoughts were so transparent to his brother. "You're going to marry Esme in spring!"

Saradoc stopped chewing and furrowed his brow. "I am, but that doesn't bother you, I hope." His face turned stern. "Esme's mine, Mac."

"I don't want Esme!" Merimac told him grumpily. "I want…" He fell silent. The problem was he did not exactly know what he wanted except that Adamanta should stay. And that was a problem in itself. So was the question as to what he would do once she did stay. He looked helplessly into his brother's confused face. "Tell me, what should I do?"

"What do you want to do about what?" Saradoc asked trying to get the essence of what his brother was talking about. "Don't say you want to catch yet another one?"

Merimac's heart sank further. "No!" he cried out, then muttered "yes" and eventually concluded with a miserable "I don't know."

"That lass from Scary?" Saradoc asked without hesitation.

He nodded. "Her name is Adamanta. She is Violet Grubb's cousin and she's only staying for another week. Yet, she says she might prolong her visit if I give her a present for my birthday."

Saradoc pondered that for a moment. "A present? Rather blunt of her, don't you think?"

"No it isn't!" Merimac told him, offended in Adamanta's stead. "She's just trying to see if I am sincere. Oh, she's wonderful, Sara. Her hair is like gold and her eyes are as the dark of night but still shining with the light of a hundred stars. Her smile is warming your very soul and when she speaks…"

"Mercy!" Saradoc cried, waving his hand at him. "Save your flattery for her."

"It needs to be something special," Merimac went on, oblivious. "Something that impresses her."

Saradoc smiled at him. It was the smile Saradoc always smiled when he thought he knew something Mac did not. Merimac ignored the goad. It was Adamanta's present that mattered, nothing else.

His brother shrugged. "I don't know," he confessed. "It's usually not difficult to find a little something for Esme, after all I have known her for quite a while. Perhaps you should ask one of your girls."

Merimac looked at his brother doubtfully. "I'm not stupid, Saradoc. They won't help me with this."

"Try them," Sara suggested chuckling as he bent down to pick the last apple. "I can't help you."

"Why not?" Merimac insisted hoisting one of the cases. "Come on, Sara. What do you give Esme?"

Saradoc shook his head laughing. "Ask one of your lasses, Mac."

~*~*~

"Come in!" Menegilda called, looking up from her stitching.

The hinges protested with a low moan as her son entered the room. Merimac pulled a face as if pained. "When will you get that repaired?"

Menegilda smiled. "You may do so whenever you wish."

Merimac offered her a wry smile, closed the door and sat in a chair. His face glowed red in the firelight. His eyes were sparkling good-humouredly but there was a thoughtfulness in them that belied his mirth. Menegilda put her needlework aside. "What's the matter, lad?"

"I need your advice."

His request came as a surprise. Merimac was not usually one to ask his mother for advice. In fact he hardly ever asked anyone for it. "So?"

"I still need another present for my birthday," Merimac explained curtly, "But I have no idea what I could give."

"Why don't you look in the mathom-room?"

Merimac shook his head. "I don't want a mathom."

A smile grew on Menegilda's face. "Who is the girl?"

Merimac grew stiff. His cheeks lost their rosy colour and for a moment he simply stared at her utterly speechless. Menegilda shook her head in amusement. "Don't stare so, lad. I am your mother. I know what's going on even if you don't see fit to tell me. Who is she? How long have you known her?"

Merimac opened his mouth, closed it again, averted his eyes and - Menegilda smiled benignly - was he blushing? She could not remember when she had last seen his face colour.

"It's nothing," he assured her quickly. "Her name is Adamanta. She stayed in Buckland during the summer, but she is going back to her family in Scary next week and I want to give her a little something to remember me by."

Menegilda leaned back in her rocking chair, her smile unwavering, but her face was serious. She knew her son too well to trust what probably was nothing more than a transitory ardour. New toys were only interesting while they were just that - new. She suspected that once the lass was back in Scary, Mac would forget all about her.

"Why?"

Merimac frowned in confusion. "I want to."

Menegilda nodded though her expression remained critical. "Why do you want her, Mac? Because she is a challenge or because you love her? If it is the former, giving her a present isn't going to buy her favour."

Merimac stared at her flabbergasted. His lips twitched, his eyes narrowed. Menegilda could see the anger well up inside him. "She does not…"

"So, she hasn't succumbed to your irascible charm?" Menegilda cut him short. "Rosa tells me that several of her roses have mysteriously disappeared. No, don't deny it. I'm afraid you have been seen, son. I don't know what you intend to gain by giving a present, Merimac, but I hope you do. You are aware I'm not happy with how you treat the girls."

"Mother," Merimac rolled his eyes but Menegilda did not allow him to interrupt.

"I don't mind sacrificing a few roses, but before you make her a present that is more than a mathom, I want you to think about what you expect of her, especially since you know she is leaving. If you're just going to forget about her as soon as you've got your kiss, you might as well forget about her now."

Her words obviously stung Merimac, for he did not talk back. Instead he looked away. Long dark curls fell into his eyes keeping her from seeing the expression in them. The crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room. Menegilda watched her son for a while, but he did not move, except for an occasional twitch of his fingers. Eventually he lifted his head, his eyes apprehensive. "How would I know?"

She smiled fondly at him. "You will know. The answer is in your heart."

"Mother," he pleaded, almost desperate, "my birthday is in three days!"

"Then you had better start listening."

Merimac looked at her helplessly but Menegilda just sat up and kissed his forehead despite his protest. Her son had grown into a fine young hobbit. He was a good lad and never meant ill to anyone. He just didn't always think before he acted.

~*~*~

"Merimac!" Sally Bunce gasped in surprise as the older hobbit grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall. "If you want any help at all, you will release me now!"

He let go of her immediately and stepped back. Sally rubbed her wrists and glared at him accusingly even though his pitiful eyes awakened far different things than anger. "I won't help you to beguile another lass and you know that quite well. I've already done so once. It didn't last. It never does. Leave the poor girl in peace."

His eyes turned stern. "You know nothing!"

"I know you well enough, Merimac Brandybuck," she replied coldly. "You're not one to end up in a relationship. You're not serious enough."

"Neither are you," Merimac told her matter-of-factly.

His eyes remained fixed on her and for the first time in her life, she felt uncomfortable under his stare. There was something in it that made her nervous. Her father would kill her if he knew that she flirted with most of the Hall's lads and Merimac new that quite well. She did not doubt he would use that information to his advantage should she give him reason to.

"All right," she relented. She hated to lose. Her eyes stared daggers at him and the smug grin that appeared on his face fed her rage even more. She turned her back on him, thinking for a long moment before finally voicing her thoughts. "You need a present. Nothing usual, of course, after all it's a present for a girl and you want to show that she means something to you. Yet, you shouldn't spend a lot of money on it. It might impress some girls, but money won't buy her heart."

She couldn't believe she was telling him all this. If she had to give him advice, she should have made up something horrible, made him spend all his money or get a present that would horrify the girl and drive her miles away from him. But the problem was she actually liked Merimac and really didn't like to lie to him. Clenching her fists, she bit her lip to hold back the anger and sadness that welled up inside her. She thought she was trembling but if Merimac realised it he said nothing. After another long moment, she forced herself to turn around. His face was almost completely dark; the light from the main corridor barely reaching this side strake.

"Her heart is the key," she said finally, her voice revealing more emotion than she had intended. "It needs be something from the heart that shows her you've been thinking of her."

"But what should I get her?" Merimac asked hopefully.

She shrugged, not revealing how much his anticipation pained her. "It's something from your heart, not mine."

Merimac did not answer, but she could see he was already thinking over the new possibilities. There was a sparkling in his eyes, an as yet unfamiliar determination that stung her even more than his hope.

"This time it's for real. She really means something to you, doesn't she?" Sally remarked and was convinced that he would notice her sadness now. Sneaking a glance at him, she saw that Merimac remained oblivious. "Who is she?"

Merimac smiled broadly. "That, my dear, is none of your business." He kissed her playfully on the cheek before hurrying down the corridor.

"Mac!" she called after him. "It's not fair kissing me when you're after another girl."

Merimac shrugged apologetically and a moment later disappeared behind the bend. Sally looked after him. She reached carefully for her cheek where his lips had just touched her. Her heart was beating fast, her chest was tight. She knew she had lost him to another, yet she did not know how to feel about it. Slowly, she let herself glide down the wall her eyes still resting on the corridor he had disappeared in. The twinkle she had seen in his eyes caused her to smile nonetheless. Whoever the girl was, she must have been something special. She had caused a change in him. Perhaps he would grow up after all, and perhaps it was for the best.

Chapter Four: The Present

"He didn't invite you, did he?"

Adamanta did not like the smug tone in her cousin's voice. She put the last fork into the drawer and glanced out of the kitchen window, heaving a heavy sigh. Rain splattered against the glass, wind bent the trees and sent the red and orange leaves flying. Grey clouds further darkened the already gloomy autumn evening.

Adamanta could not help thinking of Brandy Hall. She had never seen the huge smial inside Buck Hill, but somehow she knew the splendidly decorated rooms would be filled with light and merriment. The Master's youngest son celebrated his coming of age tonight, but she was not among the guests.

Violet stepped beside her and followed her glance. "I told you he'd disappoint you."

Adamanta glared at Violet, her frustration turning to anger in light of the fact that the younger appeared to have been right. For a moment, Violet faced her cousin's ire smugly, but then lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, love."

"Mantha!" Adamanta turned at her aunt's excited call. Camelia Grubb hurried into the room, a bustle of voluminous skirts. Her face was all smiles. "I didn't know you had a sweetheart here in Buckland. Handsome lad, good manners. Too bad he didn't want to come in." She turned to her daughter. "If only my Vi could find someone so agreeable."

"Merimac was here?" Adamanta cried, stopping her aunt's flood of words. Sadness and resentment evaporated into exuberant joy.

"That was Master Merimac?" Aunt Camelia furrowed her brow, concentrating. "Well, now that you mention it, beneath that huge cloak he did look very much like the young Master. The poor lad was soaked through and in a hurry from the tone in his voice, but he left you this."

Her aunt handed her a small parcel wrapped in crimson fabric and bound with golden cord. Adamanta grinned at her cousin before she thanked her aunt. Package in her hand and Violet at her heels, Adamanta hurried to their room.

"So he is going to disappoint me?" Adamanta mocked her cousin. "He is no good. I deserve better."

Violet closed the door behind her and shrugged. "He might have grown up a little since I met him last but…"

"But you had better shut your mouth before you say anything you regret."

Violet was appalled. "You would take his word over mine?"

This time it was Adamanta's turn to shrug. "That depends on what you said."

Adamanta had not thought her cousin could be so easily offended. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Violet plopped down on her bed and sent unfriendly looks her way. Adamanta rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Violet! Don't be such a spoilsport!"

"Spoilsport?" Violet snorted. "What would you do if your cousin kept talking about some daft hobbit for months?"

"He isn't daft!"

"Oh no, of course he isn't!" Violet mocked. "He is decent, mysterious, and, oh, so wonderful! Well, what are you still doing here, then? Go to your fantastic Merimac, but don't bother me about it. I don't care to hear any more about him. In fact, I never cared to at all!"

"I might just do that!" Adamanta told her coldly. "He is far better company than you."

"Go on, do as he pleases!" the younger shot back. "That's what he wanted all along anyhow! Fall victim to his charms and you will see how quickly you're forgotten. But when you're down in the pits don't come to me for comfort; I told you all along."

With that, Violet turned her back on her, and that was fortunate, for Adamanta did not know how much more she could have borne without lashing back. She was crushed that her cousin was not happy for her and could only insult the one she had lost her heart to. Clutching Merimac's present to her bosom, she went stiffly out of the room. There she leaned heavily against the wall and waited for the tumult within her to quiet.

She looked at Merimac's present, turning it carefully in her hand like some fragile treasure and smiling despite the evening's events. He had thought of her after all. This parcel was proof he cared for her no matter what Violet might say. Adamanta heaved a sigh of relief feeling a load she had not known had been there dropping from her heart. She could trust his words and perhaps give herself wholly to what Merimac stirred within her.

Stuffing the parcel securely in her skirt's pocket, Adamanta straightened and after one last look at the door behind her, she shook her head and went into the parlour to sit with her aunt and uncle.

Camelia assured her that Violet would calm down and get over it eventually.

"It's hard for her," her aunt said. "She hasn't met any decent lad, as far as I know, and to see you with the Master's young son, well, I suppose she's feeling left out of things."

Adamanta nodded but did not reply. Her mind was busy thinking of ways to prolong her stay in Buckland. It had seemed foolish to build up her hopes for such a brief visit, but now that she had a proof that her feelings were not one-sided, she did not want to waste a second. It was so unfair that they had only a couple of days left. If she could but stay a few more weeks!

*******

Adamanta had longed to unwrap the present ever since her aunt gave it to her, but felt that she must be alone when she did so. She waited until after midnight. Violet was fast asleep and she was alone with the silent flicker of a single candle.

Almost affectionately, she took the parcel from her pocket and carefully untied the golden cord. The soft, red fabric slipped down to reveal a small, polished box of dark cherry wood. Adamanta held her breath, savouring the anticipation before daring to open the brass twist lock. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside the box were two carefully folded, dark blue, silken ribbons. She hardly dared to touch them, they were so fine. Tears welled up inside her. She had needed new ribbons. Her old ones were hardly of any use anymore, as battered and faded as they were. That Merimac would notice such a detail and buy her new ones was beyond imagining.

The gift suggested Merimac was far from the insensitive and irresponsible hobbit folk regarded him as. In fact, it said he cared more than even she had thought. She needed to see him again. She would go to Brandy Hall tomorrow, even if only to give him a most painful farewell.

~*~*~

Merimac brought the hammer onto the dowel with a grunt. It was a fresh autumn morning, the last dewdrops had dried in the sun and a thin mist covered the meadows south of Brandy Hall. A few strands of barely combed hair hung damp into Merimac's face. He was tired and sore, and all because of his father. It was customary for the Master to give presents to the byrding and Rorimac's present to him had been an entire bottle of Buckland's best brandy. Of course, his father had probably intended the bottle to last longer than the birthday had. But unfortunately for Merimac, his brother, cousins, closest friends and he had drunk it all during the course of the night. Merimac had awoken with the most dreadful hangover.

"Replace the rotten dowels yourself," his father had said. "The cool air and hard work will help clear your head."

All they did was make things worse. A thousand hammers seemed to echo every beat of his. Only three more to do, but each seemed an insurmountable obstacle. At least he could rest after luncheon. And he would not lift a finger when he did. Dropping his tool, he brushed the sweat from his brow and tested the footing.

"That was a wonderful present, Master Brandybuck."

He turned around with a start to find Adamanta standing before him. She was clad in a dark blue skirt, a bodice of an almost brownish yellow, and a blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders. In the pale light of the late morning, with mist curling around her feet, she was stunningly beautiful. It took Merimac a moment to realise he was ogling her and another one to become conscious of what he must have looked like this morning; more some stable hand than the Master's son.

"Adamanta," he greeted clearing his throat to sound at least a little like himself. "You're wearing them!"

That was not quite what he had intended to say. 'Good morning' or 'what are you doing here?' were much closer to what he had had in mind, but seeing his ribbons carefully braided into her hair had diverted this attention.

She blushed and gifted him with a shy smile. "One of them, yes."

Merimac held his breath for, unexpectedly, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek and whispered a quiet 'thank you' into his ear. His heart skipped a beat and he was glad that the hammer was no longer in his hand for he was sure he would have dropped it. An excited shiver ran down his spine. He had not realised how much he had longed for Adamanta's kiss and could not keep a grin from claiming his face. If he had ever received a better response to one of his presents he could not remember it. Indeed, this reward was worth the price of talking to his mother and begging for Sally's help.

Adamanta seemed as surprised as Merimac and a bright blush rose to colour her cheeks. Forgetting his former awkwardness and the headache, he raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't going to fall for my charms."

"I didn't," said Adamanta quickly, but her blush deepened when she saw the smug grin on his face. "Well, not quite. It's just a thank you and," she hesitated, "and a goodbye."

Merimac felt his smile fade. "I thought you were going to stay."

Adamanta shook her head. "I'm afraid not this time. I'm sorry; but I promise to be back at Yule."

Merimac did not know what to say. He was crestfallen. Yule was nothing to him. He wanted her here now and he was about to tell her so when Adamanta suddenly took his left hand into hers and produced the second ribbon from her skirt's pocket.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she fastened it around his wrist.

"I have learned a lot about you this past summer, though I still hardly know you. People say you're a scoundrel, but I'm not so sure anymore." She smiled, albeit sadly. "I will return at Yule but I shall not come to you unless I see you wearing this." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "Don't put it on if you aren't serious, Master Brandybuck."

Merimac frowned, gazing first at the ribbon then at her. "So, you want me to make a fool of myself?" It was meant as a joke, but the pain he felt at her leaving made his voice harsher than he intended.

"Not at all," Adamanta quickly assured and averted her eyes. "I just…" Merimac could not make out the mumbled words but they sounded suspiciously like 'want to be sure'.

His confusion must have shown in his face, for after an uncomfortably long silence, she grinned weakly. "I told you before that I'm not like other lasses, though I'm not without…," She broke off and shook her head. "I leave it to you whether we will meet again."

Merimac was silent. Disappointment welled up inside him as did anger and even fear of what her words suggested. "You're expecting quite a lot," he said trying to sound cheerful.

"No more than I would of any other lad who courted me."

"I wasn't courting!" Merimac told her, but regretted his words immediately. He did want her to stay, but he had a sudden feeling of being trapped, unable to get away. He didn't want to push her from him, but he wasn't yet ready for her to be so close either.

He looked into her doubtful face, suddenly feeling guilty and helpless. "I… well… I at least hoped I wasn't." Merimac stammered trying to salvage his comment. "A friend of mine is courting a girl right now and making a complete fool of himself. My brother was no better. If that is the only way to win a girl's heart, no thank you."

"You don't want to, then?" Her voice was insecure and her eyes, which sought his, were slightly troubled. Merimac fidgeted, almost pained by the way she looked at him, and finally averted his eyes.

Once again an uncomfortable silence grew between them and it was Merimac who ventured to break it, though hesitatingly. "May I write you?"

Adamanta's face brightened. "Whenever you wish, Master Brandybuck."

Merimac felt his heart beating faster and he found an answering smile on her lips. "Please," he said, "Call me Mac. Master Brandybuck makes me feel so old - like my father."

Adamanta nodded, chuckling. "Farewell, then, Mac."

She looked at him for a very long moment, as if pondering her next move, then turned around and hurried away northwards. Merimac watched her until she was almost out of sight feeling suddenly sad and empty. His eyes wandered to the ribbon on his wrist and the memory of her slender fingers tying it there.

"I leave it to you whether we will meet again."

Chapter Five: Yule

The choice had been his, but that Merimac had not realised until weeks later.

It all began when, two weeks after she had left, he received Adamanta's first letter. She had not written anything of import; just an account of her journey home, the observation that nothing had changed there over the summer and how glad she was to be with her family again. Yet Merimac had found himself strangely enchanted by her words. She spoke openly and with familiarity, as if she had known him all her life rather than having held him at a distance that summer.

Merimac, though not as skilled with words as she was, wrote back in a like manner. There was nothing awkward in it, and though he had enjoyed the bantering that usually accompanied each of their conversations, he liked this new way of communicating even better. Each letter grew a little more personal and every couple of days Merimac found himself waiting impatiently for the messenger.

That was when his mother first observed the change in him. Soon after his friends did as well. While Saradoc remained silent, being engaged in correspondence of his own, Milo and Marmadas did not hesitate to tease him whenever they met. Merimac took it with good humour, denying every claim of his being tamed with a wave of his hand. In private, however, he had to admit that he had got himself into something far more serious than his usual flirtations.

Adamanta mattered to him. His heart beat faster and he felt delighted shivers run up his spine whenever he thought of her. He had even stopped pursuing other lasses; whenever his eye began to rove, he felt strangely uncomfortable, and his thoughts returned to Adamanta's ribbon on his nightstand.

One night, as he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, the ribbon gliding through his fingers, he came to understand the choices Adamanta had put into his hands. It was up to him whether they would meet again, and whether it would be more than a simple visit. Though he had been cavalier about their relationship at first, he now realised that things had progressed much further than he had realised.

On the night of his birthday party, he'd stood in the rain outside her aunt's smial for a quarter of an hour, his eyes fixed on the kitchen window watching her do the dishes and talk to her cousin. He hadn't dared more than to come to the Grubb's door, for that would have meant seeing Adamanta. And then he would have had to explain why he had not invited her to his party. Even he was not certain whether he was simply too proud, or too shy, to ask her. He'd felt like a fool.

"I just want to be sure."

That morning Adamanta had bound him to her and now he understood why she had given him the ribbon. She was as afraid as he, though in a different way. She did not want to lose her heart to someone she could not trust and he had not exactly proven himself trustworthy the last couple of years. The ribbon was her way of getting him to ask himself what he wanted from her, while at the same time leaving the choice whether to wear it or not up to him. Now he needed to decide whether he dared venture into a future with Adamanta.

~*~*~

The Hall's ballroom was flooded with light. Chandeliers on the ceiling and sconces on the walls gave the room a warm, golden shimmer. Fir-sticks, mistletoe and cinnamon-sticks were bound into small bundles and adorned with red or golden ribbons. They lay on the tables, hung from the walls or hung from several of the lights. Their smell mingled with that of pipe-weed, cider, mulled wine, glogg and the inviting scent of baked goods.

It was the Second Yule. Dinner was long past and the guests and dwellers of the Hall met in the ballroom for music, dance and conversation. The musicians - Merimac, for once, not among them - played a merry tune though there were only a few children on the dance floor.

Merimac's eyes never left the main entrance. He had expected for Adamanta to arrive yesterday, on the First Yule, though he had been on tenterhooks ever since the celebrations began four days ago. The dark blue ribbon was once again fastened around his wrist. He had thought long about it and even talked to his mother again.

"You will know. The answer is in your heart."

He had made his decision. There were no more doubts, no more insecurity, except for this one fear that Adamanta, or Mantha as he now addressed her in his letters, would not show up.

"You look sad," a voice noted beside him. "You know, for a few marbles, I could find more stuff out for you. And then you would be happy again."

Merimac looked down with a smile to find Frodo sitting beside him. His young cousin stayed at the Hall for Yule. He had grown taller since last summer, but other than in height he had not changed much. The boy nibbled on a biscuit and Merimac noted that he had several more of them tucked in his trouser pocket.

"Not this time, scallywag," Merimac replied ruffling the already tousled curls. "Tonight, I fear, I can do nothing but wait."

With that his eyes wandered once more to the room's main entrance, though his lips twitched at the memory of the last time little Frodo had come to his assistance. Without his young cousin it would have taken him far longer to discover Adamanta's parentage. The boy's innocent charms had plied the information and from, of all people, Miss Violet Grubb herself.

"Why are you wearing that?" Frodo asked, touching the ribbon around Merimac's wrist. "It's for girls."

"It belongs to a girl, in fact," Merimac told him. "I am waiting to give it back to her."

Frodo smiled, not letting go of the ribbon. "I'll keep you company until she comes."

Without further explanation Frodo took Merimac's arm into both his hands, laid it around his shoulders and snuggled into the crook of it. A huge yawn claimed his cream smeared mouth. The child smiled up at him and put a finger to his lips. "Don't tell mommy I did that. She'll think I'm tired," he whispered conspiratorially, "and will put me to bed."

Merimac smiled and his eyes flickered to where his aunt stood with aunts Asphodel and Amaranth. The child definitely had a way of getting what he wanted. If only Merrimac would evince such a skill, if and when the object of his desire finally turned up.

~*~*~

"You look as if you are in your cups, son." Rorimac asked as he sat down beside his boy. "And you haven't danced a single dance all night."

Merimac chuckled without humour. "I'm not in any 'cup', though I might be by the morrow."

It was past midnight and the room had become less crowded. Children had been put to bed and most of the older folk had followed their example. The music still played, but the light was dimmer now, some candles had already been extinguished.

Merimac's heart sank lower with every passing minute. Adamanta had not come. Perhaps she never would. Perhaps she had played with him the way he had played with so many others. Perhaps he had a fool's hope. In the next two days, the festivities would slowly die down. There would be no bonfire like last night and no extravagant dinner as they had had tonight. If Adamanta did not turn up this night, she never would. And why should she? He had not told her that he had made up his mind, that he wanted her to come back and stay, that he would even formally court her if that was what she wanted.

"It's that lass who turned your head, isn't it?" his father asked after a long moment of silence. A strong arm laid itself over his shoulder and Merimac found himself in an almost too tight embrace. If he had not been in his cups, the Master had had one mug too many at the very least. "Let me tell you a thing, boy. Women, as comfortable as life with them can be, mean naught but trouble. Look at your brother." Rory made a dismissive gesture. "He's run off to Tookland for Yule, as important a celebration as it is, and all for a woman. Not that Esme isn't worth pursuing. A fine young lass, as I've said many times. But I'll be glad when they're finally married and under my roof again." Rorimac shook his head dolefully and had another draught from his mug. "There he sits in Tookland when he should be here for the celebration. As my heir he ought to be at my side to assure the people that Buckland will be in good hands even into the next generation. And now I see you staring holes in the bottom of your mug while you should be enjoying yourself. And what's this?" The Master glanced disapprovingly at the ribbon. "The colour matches your waistcoat nicely, but I can't say it suits a strapping lad to go about wearing a lady's ribbon."

Merimac did not reply. He knew that Rorimac would just continue rambling if he did. Instead he glanced from the ribbon to the door for about the thousandth time that night and wondered whether he should get himself an ale. At least then, he and his father could converse on the same level. There were quite a few things about women that might need to be said when this Yule was over.

Merimac blinked. His heart leapt into his throat before he was even aware of the reason for it. He jumped to his feet. Adamanta Goodbody stood at the entry, looking more beautiful than ever before. Her hair, which she wore loose for the first time since they met, hung over her shoulders, the long, luxuriant curls shining an almost golden colour. She had fastened the locks that would have hung in her face with his dark blue ribbon. Her skirts were of the same dark blue tint, her blouse was crimson, and she wore a white bodice, which had been lovingly embroidered with blue yarn. Her choice of dress beautifully accented the tender curves of her body. She looked stunning.

Merimac could hardly believe his eyes. He did not dare breathe as he walked slowly towards her. His hands were shaking, his knees were weak. She had come and if he hadn't been sure if he loved her before, he would have known he did now. His mouth was dry and for a split second he didn't know whether he should laugh or cry with joy. Then she smiled at him and he found himself doing the former. He had butterflies in his stomach and was more nervous than he had ever been before and yet unbelievable joy filled him.

"I see you're wearing my ribbon, Master Brandybuck," she noted tenderly.

Merimac hadn't realized how much he missed hearing her voice. His blush rose to the tips of his ears, and if his cheeks had ever felt warmer, he could not remember it. He smiled shyly, without taking his eyes off her for fear she might disappear. "I thought we had agreed on Mac," he said.

"You're quite the impatient one, aren't you?" Adamanta asked with a smile.

Instead of answering her, Merimac said what was in his heart at that moment.

"You have come."

"Of course. I keep my promises."

Merimac's heart felt like bursting. His lips twitched with emotion. How he had waited for this moment! If only he could, he would fling his arms around her and hold her tight. She would never escape him again.

"So do I," he replied finally, nodding at the ribbon around his wrist. His voice was trembling, and he almost stumbled over his next words. "I've thought long and hard and I've decided." He reached for her arm anxiously . "I've been trice a fool. I should never have let you go in the first place. I promise that you can trust me to," he swallowed hard, his eyes holding hers as if they were the only things that kept him on his feet, "to love you."

Adamanta smiled at him, her eyes watery with emotion. She had probably not expected his pronouncement, in fact, Merimac did not believe what he was saying either. He had made his decision long ago. He knew what he wanted and he didn't need to think anymore. If he hesitated now - and thinking always made one hesitate - he would lose this chance forever. Unable to look into her face again, he loosened the knot on the ribbon and refastened it onto Adamanta's wrist with clumsy fingers. "Will you…" he stammered fighting for the words he had wanted to tell her for so long. He took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to find his insecure and beseeching expression reflected in her eyes. "Will you stay, then? Here, with me?"

With his hand still holding her wrist Merimac could feel her heart was racing. So was his. Adamanta seemed at a loss for words. She simply looked at him with the most incredulous expression, her head slightly tilted to one side, her eyes never leaving his. "I - I think I will," she finally stammered with a timid smile. "For the time being."

For a moment Merimac simply stared at her, his mouth open, unsure what to make of her response. Adamanta shook her head and placed one finger on his lips. A warm smile illuminated her lovely face silencing his protests far better than her finger could. "Violet was right. You really are an oaf."

Merimac grew stiff, feeling more frightened than indignant. Helplessly, he searched her eyes.

"I'm not of age," Adamanta explained softly. "Even if your parents allowed me to stay at the Hall my father would not allow it."

"I could send him a letter and explain myself," Merimac told her with the hint of a grin.

Adamanta shook her head, her eyes sparkling. "He'd never agree, and would probably be ready to rip your head off before he got to the end of your letter." Merimac's heart swelled at the sight of her and the sound of her laughter. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, and then all conscious thought failed him. Her lips found his in a tentative kiss which quickly turned into something far deeper and more intense. It warmed him from the inmost part of his soul, kindling a secret fire that spread through his body until he was tingling all over. This was the first step into his new life. He knew what he would be giving up, but this… Merimac pulled her close and responded to her with rapt eagerness, not caring where he was or who might be watching. This was what he would gain. Adamanta was his future, of that he was now convinced, and he would do everything to hold onto it.

~THE END~