Flowers, Gems And Estella - Chapter XII
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Light rains started once everyone was situated under the tents for the wedding feast – they could hear the patter of tiny drops on the white canvas above them. There was no wind to speak of, so they stayed dry as they feasted in celebration. White candles burned on long tables covered with linen tablecloths, and there was a nice little dance floor where people could dance if they were so inclined. Most everyone was seated at the tables though, listening as several of the guests made speeches to toast the new couple.
“I’ve known Samwise for years, long before we were tweenagers,” Merry said at one point, standing up with a mug of brandy in hand, “We grew up together, and there’s few hobbits who know him better – and I have to say, Rosie, that if you can find any lad in the world more devoted and loving than your dear husband – well, I’ll be amazed. I’m not much good at giving speeches, which is why I’m surprised I’m actually doing this at all, knowing how I am about this sort of thing, what with the rambling I tend to do when I’m –” Merry stared out over the sea of faces staring at him and blushed. “Right, well, I’m doing it again. Anyway, good luck to you both, and I wish that every day of your lives together you’ll remember today, and how we all came together to celebrate how very much the two of you love each other. Right, I’m done now. Cheers!”
The crowd repeated the last word, each one taking a sip from their own mugs – Rosie, who was sitting at the front table with Sam, smiled as her face turned a light red. Her older brother Tom stood next.
“Right, well, there are probably a million or so stories about Sam and Rosie as a couple, some of which may not be appropriate for those assembled here.” The crowd laughed. “I’m joking, though, I really don’t know any stories like that. However, none of the stories that I do know accurately capture the way they look at each other and smile like they know something secret from the rest of us, and I think that secret is exactly what it feels like to be in love. Sam, Rosie, I wish you all the luck in the entire world and more, although I’m certain you won’t need it at all. Cheers to you, Sam, and to you dear sister.”
The crowd clapped as he sat down, taking a drink from his ale – Rosie dabbed at her eyes with her quilted handkerchief. Estella, who was in the wedding party and therefore seated at the bride and groom’s table, was taking a sip from her mug of cider when Rosie, who was beside her, nudged her in the side with her elbow. “Get up and say something,” she whispered. Estella looked around at the faces of the crowd.
“Do I have to?” she whispered back.
“Sam’s gotten Merry to say something – you need to say something now, as my best friend.”
“Fine,” she grunted, standing up. The crowd looked to her next. “I’m speaking now as Rosie’s best friend – she told me too, at least – but I have to admit, I’ve known Sam longer than I’ve known her. But I guess as long as I’ve known Sam, in a way I’ve also known Rosie – as far back as I can remember, he’s always been infatuated with her.” Sam’s head, which was staring down at his plate now, was turning blood red – a grin was still plastered on his face though, as Rosie pecked him on the cheek. “I suppose that kind of devotion cannot go without recognition – so I’ll finish up by saying good luck to you both, be happy with each other – um, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, I guess – and cheers!”
“Cheers!” the crowd repeated, who decided that Estella’s speech would be the last and headed to the dance floor.
A wide berth was made for Sam and Rosie, who danced together beautifully as husband and wife. Pippin, who Estella noticed had grown quite tall, was a good foot-and-a-half taller than the lass he was dancing with – throughout the dance she was forced to crane her neck upwards to look at his face. Frodo was sitting off from the rest of the crowd by himself, his arm clutched at his chest in slight pain – there was still a light of anguish in his dark eyes. Sam called to him from the dance floor, inviting him out – the pain disappeared from his eyes as he shook his head, grinning happily.
“And why aren’t you out there dancing?” a voice from behind her said. She turned around to see Merry, with his hands folded behind back, looking down on her. He’s also gotten very tall. “Is it not customary for the wedding party to join the bride and groom on the dance floor?”
“I could ask you the same question, Merry Brandybuck – as one of the groomsmen I should think that you would find a bridesmaid to dance with.”
“Which is exactly what I’m doing, Miss Bolger,” he said as he extended his hand, “You and Celandine Brandybuck are the only ones not already partnered – forgive me for not wanting to dance with my cousin, but I often find myself fearing for my life when around her. So it is down to you – do you have the heart to break a wedding tradition by, as a bridesmaid, not dancing with a groomsman?”
“You know, there will come a time when that sweet talk of yours will get you nowhere,” she smiled, and said, taking his hand, “But I guess it’s not today.”
Merry seemed to be even taller than Pippin, for he also towered over his partner on the dance floor. But Estella had always been a bit taller than most lasses she knew, so her height only lacked in a few inches.
“That was a nice speech you gave – I heard Pippin say he liked it,” Merry said.
“Oh?” she said, raising one eyebrow.
“Yeah – it was quick and to the point, and since he’s impatient, it was less time that he had to tear himself away from his plate of food – and from the lass he’s currently dancing with.”
“Oh, her? I only met her today – name’s Diamond Took. She’s from up in the North Farthing, near Long Cleeve I heard – doesn’t have as thick an accent though,” Estella remarked.
“Hmm – wouldn’t have known she was a Took. So soft-spoken – when Pippin asked her to dance, she just whispered a tiny, ‘Yes,’ in response – like a little deer, or something.”
“Well, I remember I didn’t even notice her this morning. She must not have been one the lasses making a fuss about their hair, and their dress – and during the ceremony, when all of us bridesmaids were sobbing openly, I looked back to see that she was crying too, but rather quietly – silent tears were streaming down her face. She’s a shy little thing, that’s for sure.”
“Not like you, eh?” Merry chuckled at this – the smile from Estella’s face disappeared as she looked up at him, which he noticed, “I didn’t mean it! I was just joking – good fun and all, you know?”
“Yeah – like the time you pushed me in the river? Was that good fun too?”
Merry scoffed, pretending to be offended. “When did I ever push you into the river?”
“When I was eight, and you were eleven – you and Fredegar took great pleasure in tormenting me, and I recall one day when you pushed me down a hill and into the Brandywine!”
Merry fell silent for a while. “Well then, I must apologize – at such a young age as you say I was at, I must have been a reckless little thing, and quite annoying too.” He looked down at her once he finished. “Is that good enough for you?”
Estella sighed. “You’ll never really grow up, will you?” she said, shaking her head. By that time the party had started to wind down – several guests were donning cloaks and heading out in the darkening evening, making their way home.
“I guess this is the end of our dance,” Merry said, releasing his hand from hers and removing the other one from her side, “It has been a pleasure, Miss Bolger.” He drifted away from her into the crowd to find Frodo, who was planning a visit with him at Buckland.
“I’ll let Sam and Rosie stay at Bag End for the wedding night,” he’d said a couple weeks prior, “And I’m long overdue for a visit with my Brandybuck cousins.”
Merry found him sitting amongst the few remaining guests, and sat down next to him.
“Having a good time?” Frodo asked.
“Yeah, up until just now,” he said.
“Problems with a lass?”
“Sort of – she won’t forgive me for something I did when I was eleven, that I don’t even remember anyways.”
“Well, that’s a long time to hold a grudge – I don’t think, Merry, that she’s really mad at you. Perhaps she just enjoys quarreling with you.”
“Why is that?” Merry said, looking at Frodo.
“Well – maybe she likes you.”
Merry scoffed at the thought – Frodo snickered, saying nothing.