Flowers, Gems And Estella - Chapter XXIV
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Merry’s birthday party came on a balmy summer evening, one of enchanting moonlight and mild breeze – the leaves on the trees wafted gently, like graceful, pristine dancers. There was a slight chill in the air that meant the autumn months were not far off. Harvest would be coming soon, and with it the Harvest Festival, when hobbits from all over Buckland would gather to sell and trade the crops that were the result of several months’ work, and stock up for the cold winter ahead. It would not be long after that – a week at the most – that Estella would leave for home.
Brandy Hall that evening was decorated to the extreme – paper lanterns hung from trees, making them glow as if inhabited by hundreds of fireflies. Colored streamers made the place look fancier than Sam and Rosie’s wedding – the occasion was hardly as festive though, and none were dressed in outfits of frilly, white lace. The mood was jolly, and the guests were dressed little more than casual. Several lasses there had outfits that would have put Mentha and Melilot to shame, perhaps to impress a lad that evening.
Estella and her company arrived in horse-drawn carriage, with Celandine’s parents sitting up front, and the rest of them in back. Several hobbits were gathered in the pavilion behind the large hole, through the door of which a line of guests were parading while being by greeting by Merry and his parents.
“Glad you could make it,” he said to the lads, eagerly shaking their hands, and to Estella, “You look – nice,” with a rather nervous tone, “How’s your ankle doing?”
“Oh, it’s doing all right, gotten much better,” she responded, smiling nervously herself, “Yes, thank you – um, happy birthday,”
“Thanks – so, I guess, you should go on in, and enjoy yourself – go easy on the ale, Celandine,” he joked. She smiled, and punched him in the shoulder before heading inside behind Estella.
“How can you not see that he has feelings for you?” she gasped once they were inside and away from the lads.
Estella only sighed, and pushed Celandine toward the pavilion out back, saying, “Let’s get some punch,” leaving Fredegar and the others to chat with Frodo, who was sitting idly in the living room, sipping from a mug of ale. He smiled to them before they disappeared outside, giving an encouraging wave to Estella. She smiled back, wondering not the reason for it, but how he knew such a reason in the first place.
There was dancing going on in the pavilion under the tents, and much eating from the tables laden with two bowls of punch and several pre-dinner treats, as well as kegs of ale from which the lads were continuously drinking. It reminded her of the magnificent party given for the one-hundred-and-eleventh birthday of Bilbo Baggins so long ago, only lacking the fireworks that had come to be so well known afterwards. She and Celandine sat at a table by themselves, watching the festivities while making sure to watch their mugs carefully, for fear of having them be switched for something else.
Several more guests continued arriving, and only when they stopped did she see Merry himself enter the pavilion. The audience clapped at his entrance as he made his way to the front of the tent where the head table had been placed. Joining him were his parents, as well as Pippin, and once everyone was quieted down he began to speak.
“I’d like to welcome you all here, to this party held in honor of my thirty-eighth birthday.” A grand applause met his ears, before he continued speaking again. “So, just enjoy yourselves, and be happy, because none of you have to pay for this party – or clean up tomorrow!” A great wave of laughter resounded after he said this, and he waved his arms for quiet once more. “But, really, have fun tonight, and remember, dinner commences at eight-thirty!”
He exited the table, Pippin walking behind him as he mingled among the gathered guests – Fredegar joined Estella and Celandine, with Frodo, Sam and Rosie in his stead.
“Estella!” Rosie exclaimed once she saw her, and they embraced in a heartfelt hug, “Hello Celandine,” she said, patting her warmly on the shoulder.
“It’s so great to see you,” Estella remarked once she had sat down, noticing that Sam held onto her arm as she did such.
“Sam, really, I’m fine,” she said, looking up to him with shining love in her eyes.
“Are you sure, Rose dear? Can I get you something? Punch, cake – surely not ale, right?”
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m all right – you go enjoy yourself, Estella and I must talk,” she said, waving him away towards the food tables along with the other lads.
“Okay, what’s going on? Something’s up, I can tell,” Estella said once Rosie’s attention was unobstructed, eager to hear the news that she knew Rosie had, “I haven’t heard anything since your last letter.”
“Well,” she said, smiling big and happily, “About that letter, remember how I told you I’d been feeling a bit under the weather at the time?” Estella nodded. “And then I didn’t write again for a while, after I said I was going to visit the doctor. Well,” she said pausing slightly, “I went to the doctor, and it turns out that – I’m expecting,” she said finally, and a great smile broke over her face when she finished.
Estella and Celandine gasped excitedly, so much that the guests over at the next table turned their heads at the disturbance. “Oh Rosie, that’s wonderful! When’s it due? Who all have you told? I assume that’s why Sam was worried about you!”
Rosie waved her arms for silence, and remarked, “Yes, Sam’s been quite worried about me lately, as you can see – mine and his parents both know, as well as Frodo, who seemed to know before I even told him – and it’s due in March, by the way. Sam wants to name it Frodo, if it’s a boy.”
“What if it’s a girl?” Estella asked, but her question went unanswered, as Merry was once again standing at the head table, announcing the initiation of the evening’s dinner, which was so delicious that Estella forgot her question soon after.
Halfway through the meal, Saradoc stood, calling a silence over the large dining room before making his announcement. “Though my memory may not be what it used to be, and though my wife may object otherwise, I can remember very well the events that occurred thirty-eight years ago this day – though not much, having been asleep through most of it,” he said, shrugging sheepishly as laughter broke over the entire room, “But I do remember the nurse coming to me, waking me up to tell me that I now had a son – and my wife, threatening me within an inch of my life to stay far, far away from her.” His audience laughed once more, Esmeralda’s face turning red as she nodded, smiling as well. “But I think even through all that, she was incredibly happy, as was I, and those feelings have only increased over the years – and though you haven’t always done us proud, Meriadoc,” he looked down at his son as he said this, Merry smiling proudly back, “I don’t think your mother and I could ask for a better son than you – happy birthday.”
The guests all repeated the last words, raising their glasses in a commemorative toast before getting back to the meal at hand, after which all the guests returned to the pavilion for more dancing and drinking. Merry now joined Estella, Fredegar and the rest instead of sitting with his parents at the head table – they all sat around a table, drinking merrily and enjoying themselves. Soon, a band had taken the stage in front of the dance floor, and was playing lively tunes for the guests to dance.
“May I have this dance?” Pippin asked of Celandine, who took his hand and joined him on the floor. Sam and Rosie also went out, Sam holding Rosie carefully in his arms while she hastily danced to the fast-paced song. Frodo remained alone, as Doderic and Ilberic each found their own lass to dance with. Soon enough, Merry, Estella and Fredegar were the only ones remaining – Fredegar excused himself after a while, leaving the two of them alone.
“Nice band, don’t you think, Estella?” Merry asked of her, fumbling with his hands. After she nodded wordlessly, he continued, “Bit loud, but they’re quite good.”
“You want to go somewhere more quiet?” she asked pensively.
“Yeah! I mean, if you don’t mind,” he said, and taking her hand to lead her away from the throng, their exit noticed only by Fredegar and Frodo.
Estella recognized the willow tree under which they sat, looking up at the darkening sky – it was the one she had met him under the last time she’d visited Brandy Hall, where she felt she had been insulted by him and stormed off. Interesting, that this is where I told him I hated him, and hopefully where I will tell him I love him.
“Lovely night,” he commented, for lack of anything better to say.
“Yes, it is, and a lovely party as well,” she said, also short on conversation skills at the moment. She sat down on the moonlit grass, sitting cross-legged while Merry stayed standing, his arm leaning against the bark of the tree.
“I hope you’ve have a good time tonight.”
“Oh yes,” she said, turning around to face him, “Yes, it was very lovely, seeing everyone and being together – it was quite nice to see Rosie again, so I suppose I should thank you for inviting her.”
“Well, I couldn’t invite Sam and not her – did she tell you the good news?”
“That’s she’s expecting?”
“Well, I guess that answers my question – so she did, then.”
“Hmm, must be nice for her, to have Sam and all – to have someone to look out for her.”
“A husband’s not the only person who’ll look out for you, you know – even friends will do that.”
Estella chuckled slightly. “I bet you’d look out for me.”
“Of course, how could I not? Though I must say, you hardly need looking out for most of the time – except when you get yourself barred up in the Lockholes. Good thing we came back when we did.”
“I don’t think I ever did thank you for that – so, thank you, I guess,” she said quietly.
He left his position beside the tree, walking over to her and leaning down to look her in the face. “You’re welcome, then – I would hate to ever see you in pain, and would hate even more to see what you would do to the one that caused that pain.”
“I’d tear them limb from limb, wouldn’t I?” she said, grinning.
“Yeah, but not before I got to them, and made them reconsider ever hurting another hobbit again. We’re strong, you and I, two of a kind.”
“Like we’re from the same mold?”
“Something along those lines, I guess – we don’t let anybody get in our way.”
Estella nodded, understanding what he meant. “My father always said I was too headstrong, unable to be tied down by any restrictions – though he thought it was an admirable trait, he said it would hinder my getting married.”
Merry stared straight ahead, looking at her face but not focusing on it, his eyes deep in thought. “I don’t see why you couldn’t just marry someone like yourself – someone as strong, and admirable as you.”
“You think I’m admirable?”
“I do.” His voice no longer held the humorous tone it had earlier. “I think you’re one of the bravest hobbits I’ve ever had the good fortune to know, and though you’ve done no great deeds in the ways of war, I believe you are worthy of remembrance among the Elven warriors of old, and those of Rohan and Gondor, not for the acts of bravery, but for the hardships you have overcome – your enemies instead are loneliness, and pain, and no great warrior could have defeated them any better.”
By this time Estella was blushing, and lowered her head timidly. “I – I’m glad that I have at least one admirer.”
“Forgive me if I’m embarrassing you, I don’t mean for the truth to be mortifying.”
She only smiled, and taking his hand, said, “Thank you.” He also smiled, and gripped her hand in his.
“Estella, you might as well know this,” he said, sighing wistfully, “I – I can’t keep my feelings to myself, and I can’t deny you the knowledge of those feelings – since they involve you. I know that they can no longer be kept from you, and you deserve to know how I feel for you.”
“Are you – trying to tell me – that you love me, Merry?”
Merry looked to her with surprised eyes, then chuckled to himself. “Well, I guess it’s true then, that I wear my heart on my sleeve. Was it really that easy to guess?”
She avoided the subject of how she had come to know, saying, “Well, not at first – but even Pippin would have gotten it, from what you were saying.”
“Pippin already knows, anyway. So – yeah, I guess you know – that I love you.” He looked down at his feet, refusing to meet her eyes.
“With a passion that will never die?”
“Tell me, Estella – is there anything about me that you don’t know?” he said, amused laughter in his eyes, “I feel like such a thickhead.”
“Why?”
“Well, I try to tell you something I think you don’t know, but you’re way ahead of me, as usual – and you could probably tell me anything about yourself, and I wouldn’t have the slightest clue about it.”
“That’s true – you don’t know that I love you.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I don’t know tha –” He stopped short, looking to her with surprised eyes the expression of which his previous reaction held no candle to. “Did you – say what I thought you did?”
She smiled, looking away for a moment. “You know, I think I did.”
A smile broke over his face, and he grinned, saying, “For real?” Estella nodded. An even bigger smile dominated his features as he slowly leaned in towards her face, asking, “May I?” and brought his lips to hers after she nodded again.
If admitting her feelings had released a great weight from her conscious, then being kissed by Merry felt even more so – he moved to hold her face in his hands, to caress her cheeks. She shivered at his gentle touch, and moved closer to him as evening winds blew a quiet breeze, the tendrils of willow leaves drifting softly about them. Nestling up to him, she deepened the kiss, nuzzling into the comfort of his warmth. Needing life-giving breath, their lips parted, but they stayed together, their heads leaning against one another, his arms about her waist, with hers around his neck.
“Wow,” Merry whispered – Estella felt his breath close to her lips, “Well, I’d have to say this is one of the best birthday presents I’ve ever gotten – not as good as the handmade pipe that Pip got me, quite the collector’s item that was – but it comes close.” Estella laughed, and punched him softly in the shoulder before drawing in for another kiss.