Flowers, Gems And Estella – Chapter XXXIII
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His bedroom was dimly lit, with a glow that seemed to be coming from behind him, over his shoulder – it could not have been his bedroom, though, for it was painted a different color than he remembered. His was a pale brown, the hue of a newly cut plank of wood – but this was pale pink, the color of a dying sunset on a summer’s evening. This room was strange to him, and he could not explain how he’d gotten there.
He looked over his shoulder, to where the light was coming from, as well as a sound – like the chirping of a cricket, two sharp tones that rose and fell in pitch, one after the other. He saw that it was a chair, rocking back and forth – the sounds were the result of creaky floorboards, the curved bow of the chair beating in them a steady rhythm. There was someone in the chair, he saw, someone with long, brown hair that reached halfway down their back. It was a lass, he could tell, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to ask whom she was – and where he was.
His grey eyes were met with ones of softest brown, bright with happiness and delight – below them, her mouth moved upward in a warm smile. “Hello Merry,” she said, but he heard no sounds escape from her mouth – it was like a vibration in his head, however, that he perceived the words. His ears seemed to not be working, but he didn’t need them anyhow – he heard with his eyes, and with his heart. “Hello Estella,” he said back to her, and again he heard no sound escape from his lips – but she heard, he could tell. He knew, though was clueless to explain it.
It was only when she looked down, that he noticed she held something in her arms – a wriggling bundle of blankets, with a tousled mess of light-brown hair above small, grey eyes. Below the soft nose was a chin he recognized as his, and petite arms that grasped upwards – its tiny mouth was held in an open smile, bright laughter on its face, as an infantile giggle escaped its throat. Pudgy legs reached from under the blanket, and ended in feet covered over by a soft, tangled layer of hair.
He poked at the tiny feet, which made the infant coo with glee – Estella smiled up at him, and he at her, and he reached forward, to kiss her forehead. The image, though, blurred away before him in distortion of color, fading out until all was black – his eyes shot open, and all was darkness around him, so empty and silent that he could hear his heart beating, a hurried thump in his chest. With his hands he stretched out around him, felling the softness of cloth surrounding him – he was in his bed. It was very late, he knew, judging from the pale moonlight shining through the nearby window. Around him he could see the shadowy forms of the furniture familiar to him – the dresser in the corner, a yellow vest draped over the edge of an open drawer. The door was slightly open, and a dim light shone from under it, from the hallway beyond. It’s as good a time as any for a midnight snack, he thought, and made his to the door and into the hallway, where he shielded his eyes against the bright light.
The kitchen was empty, lit only by a small lantern near the largest window – there was a plate of bread lying on the counter, leftovers from the evening’s dinner. Sitting before the small table, he munched on it, not even noticing the crumbs that fell upon his pajamas, as his thoughts were far from the present setting.
There could be little confusion at the meaning of his dream – even Pippin could have figured it out – but his brain was not striving to decipher its significance. He knew it was the anxiety of being without Estella that had caused the dream – his desires and wishes making themselves known, his troubled mind acting them out. Apologies unspoken were haunting him in the daytime – it seemed fitting that she would be the subject of his nighttime dreams as well.
He wanted to apologize, had wanted to for over a week – upon Pippin’s urging, he’d made his way to Celandine’s house, hoping to see her there. But she’d left long before that, Celandine told him – she hadn’t even told him she was leaving, though he knew that was a result of their horrendous fight.
“Perhaps she forget to tell you,” Celandine said with sadness in her eyes. But Merry knew the truth – she didn’t forget, she was right not to tell me. And he left the hole in sadness, feeling all the more sorry for himself.
I know the meaning of these dreams, what I need is the solution. Tonight’s had not been the first dream in recent days concerning Estella – a moonlit night, much like the one that he now endured alone, the two of them together, with whispered promises of love and devotion. A rain of petals that showered down before them, she in a stunning dress white like snow, with a ring of gold upon her finger – her eyes shone with joyful light, brighter than the necklace that hung about her neck – a silver chain that reached around her collar, upon which hung a pendent, a budding flower with wide spread leaves, in the center of which was a small jewel, glittering almost as brilliantly as her own face –
He awoke as his head fell upon the counter with a loud thump, shaking him from his short bout of sleep – he heard movement above him on the higher floors, as though someone were getting out of bed. Footsteps resounded on the stairs, and lead to the kitchen – the footsteps were slow, as though their owner were not completely awake – and the door creaked upon to reveal a sleepy eyed Pippin.
“Merry? What are you doing up this late?” he said groggily.
“Oh, nothing, Pip – just, needed to get a snack was all.”
“Oh, good idea,” he mumbled, making his way towards the pantry – he reached his head inside and came out, grasping a handful of mushrooms with him. Munching on them, he made his way out of the kitchen and, judging from the footsteps, back to his bed.
Once he was sure Pippin was asleep, Merry made his way back to his own room, but did not retire to his bed – he opened the drawers of the dressers, rooting through clothes both clean and dirty.
“I know it’s in here somewhere,” he said to himself, struggling to reach back behind trousers and shirts, some of which smelled as though they needed a washing. After several minutes of fruitless searching he gave up, and slumped to the floor before the dresser, running his hand through his hair dejectedly, as if in defeat. “I’ve probably lost it anyhow,” he moaned sadly, and made his way back to his bed.
He lay down on the bed, his head hanging over the edge in misery – sighing, he wretched his arms up near his head, but they instead fell over the side of the bed. Rolling over so that he lay on his stomach, he stared down at the floor, his arms coming to rest upon it – the sheets on the bed trailed over the side, and his moved his arms in boredom, fluttering them in his wake. By chance, his hands happened to swing underneath the bed, and made contact with what felt like a small box, so small in fact, that even the minute disturbance caused by his hands pushed it back further underneath the bed. He heard it rattle and shake, as though a small metallic object were inside.
“What?” he said to himself, and pulled himself off the bed and onto the floor. Crouching onto his stomach, he reached under the bed for the object – his hands felt the dusty floor, and he sneezed as a great cloud of it blew into his face. He found it eventually, though – a small velvet box that fit neatly into his palm.
Pulling himself back onto the bed, he carefully opened it – inside was a small necklace, with a pendent of a rose in bloom, with a tiny jewel in the center of the silver petals. He smiled upon the sight – it was the same trinket he’d seen in his dream, the one he’d bought nearly a year before. He’d seen it at market in Bywater, with Pippin – Estella had been admiring it, and though he would not have admitted it at the time, this may have been what prompted him to purchase it.
It may not be as good as an apology – but coupled with one would definitely be a fine present. He carefully replaced it back in the box, and planted it upon the dresser before retiring to bed at last, a giddy smile upon his face. He pulled the covers over his head, resting upon the pillow and hoping that his show of love would move Estella to forgive him – and that he might have the courage to put forth the question he longed to ask.