By: Dana
Summary: After their arranged marriage, Merry and Estella get to know one another all over again.
Characters: Merry, Estella
Pairings: Merry/Estella
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Married hobbits, het. Various implications.
Author's Notes: Written for a Yahoo Group Fic Exchange, for PipMer. Here are my original author's notes:
The request I was given was: 'Here is my request: I would like to have a story about Merry and Estella's first Yule together as a married couple. Pippin decides to leave Crickhollow for the month of Foreyule to give Merry and Estella time alone. Merry and Estella had an arranged marriage, but they find that they are becoming attracted to each other, and the story explores their growing feelings as well as coping with the holidays together.' The story does not match up exactly, but instead exact enough (this is simply the lead up to Yule, but not more than that). I was stuck a long while, as I didn't quite know what to do – my hobbits don't tend to Do Arranged Marriages – but after a bit of angsting, I figured out what I needed to do.
This is rather au to Roads Go On and Years Go By.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Foreyule, SR 1422

'I'm not quite in the mood for tradition,' said Estella. 'I hope you don't mind.' Merry gave a grave nod, but then a warm smile, and Estella thought that he must understand. He opened the front door with some care, and while he stood to the side to give her room to enter, he did not carry her over the threshold, nor did he even reach to hold her hand.

All in all, Estella thought that for the best. Holding her breath, she took her first step into Crickhollow – well, it was hardly her first visit, but she was a married hobbit now, and things did change.

Oh, things did change.

She took several more steps, folded her arms over her chest, then let out her held breath. The house was warm, the light from the parlour cheerful, golden, and from behind, she heard the front door shut. Then, the light sounds of Merry's footsteps, as he came to stand beside her.

Estella did not flinch when he put his arm around her, but instead leaned into his embrace. 'Tell me, again, how did this happen?'

Merry laughed, and turned to hug her fully. 'Your father got my father drunk.'

Estella laughed, pressed her forehead against Merry's chest, breathed in the warm scent of pipeweed and herbs that clung to Merry's vest. 'Well, that does explain a thing or three.'

She felt small, standing before him, but still she wound her arms about him, turned her head so she might press her cheek against his chest. 'I think I might grow used to this, if given the time. It took the charm out of it, don't you think, in being told that we would be married, instead of deciding so for ourselves.'

'Looking at it like that, I do suppose you're right.' She heard the smile in his voice, and turned again so she might look up at him. 'And whatever this is right now, well, at least it isn't the end of the world.'

Estella couldn't help but grin, and at least she didn't laugh. 'Well, I should hope that you'd not find marriage to me to be such a horrible thing! I don't think it is, anyhow.' And she grinned wider, and felt like a silly fool. But Merry grinned in return, and just the same, so at least Estella thought herself in good company.

They pulled apart, and neither seemed to know what to say. 'Well then, what should we do?' Estella turned in time to see Merry chuckle.

'Have a seat in the parlour, perhaps? Or I could put on some tea. Or perhaps we could both...' He dissolved into laughter, it brightened his eyes. 'Forgive me, Estella – I can't seem to get hold of myself.' He then took a deep breath, before letting it out.

'Well then,' Estella said, 'take some rest in the parlour. I'll see to the tea.'

He followed her to the kitchen instead, where he seemed to know his way around quite well, and Estella stood back and watched him, feeling somewhat content to see that Merry, somehow, was clearly in his element.

'I suppose Pippin shall leave us alone for the time being,' she said, and meant to say it with a smile, but feeling out of sorts as she did, she didn't do as good a job at that as she'd have liked. Merry stopped, then turned, and gave a small smile.

'He thought it for the best, really, and I don't doubt him. He still gets complimented far more than is his good, him being good Captain Pippin, so I'm certain he'll make the best of this free time.' Merry chuckled, then shook his head, then turned to see to the teapot, hanging it on the long iron bar above the kitchen hearth. 'He says he'll be back for Yule, but that it's likely best he stay at Great Smials until then.'

'Well, he does spend an awful lot of time in Buckland,' Estella said, and smiled.

'Well, yes,' Merry said, and grinned. 'And I quite like it that way, as does he.'

'Good. His mother must have forgotten what he looks like.'

'I tell you,' he said, going on, turning to slice bread, 'Aunt Eglantine's sharper than you might think.' He was quiet for a moment, then asked what sort of jam she would prefer. At her answer, Merry reached for one cupboard. After he'd put two platters out, two small tea cups joined them, and when Merry excused himself into the side pantry, Estella took the teapot from over the fire, and setting it down carefully on the nearby kitchen table, upon a convenient trivet.

Merry came back, and Estella looked at him, and he at her, and then they smiled and laughed. She shook her head, then, and Merry moved the plates to the table, cups and bread alike, and Estella took the jam, for he'd left the little jar of it behind on the long kitchen counter.

'You're forgetful in your old age,' she said, setting it down beside him, and him sitting at the little table. She felt herself bold, and kissed his cheek. Then Merry turned, and put his hand on hers. He looked at her, smiling as he did, and she felt foolish now, for her cheeks felt warm.

'And you are beautiful in yours,' he said. Her cheeks felt warmer still, and Merry kissed the back of her hand, gentle as a wing. Then he looked at her, again, and Estella hardly knew she moved, only felt his mouth on hers, and then the depth of his kiss.

'This isn't so terrible, is it?' he asked, when he drew away, and Estella shook her head – for all that this was unplanned, at least on their part, it was not so terrible a fate.

'I could think of worse lads to be married to,' she said, and grinned. And he grinned wider, then pulled her close again – and she ended up sitting in his lap, both of them grinning wide, their lips damp from their kissing.

Really, it wasn't so terrible, for all it had been unexpected. They kissed once more, and Estella thought it seemed more eager, but then she drew away, panting some, laughing.

'Our tea,' she said, and Merry sighed, as if deeply troubled.

'Afterwards, then,' he said. For that afterward, she hoped it might come soon.

It was the morning after, the bed warm still, and Merry even warmer, his breath low, steady. It was a very good morning after, Estella thought, for their first night shared abed. She turned, and Merry shifted, pressed closer. Really, this wasn't all that terrible, despite it having been somewhat unexpected. The learning, mostly, had taken her – and Merry both – quite by surprise.

She touched his cheek, and Merry murmured something, some indecipherable something lost to slumber. His brow creased, and with her thumb she brushed over the long dark scar. She knew a good deal of his doings, away from the Shire, but sometimes she hardly felt she knew all that she could. But then, some things were difficult to share. Estella had her own secrets still, after all, ones she couldn't tell if she planned on sharing.

She closed her eyes, and her mind drifted. She remembered, with clarity, the proper breakfast she'd attended, with her parents and Freddy also, and Freddy's intended, Ruby Boffin. Merry had been there, of course, and his parents, and Estella had thought it strange that Pippin was away, for he and Merry were as close as shadows these days. The reasoning for that was soon clear enough, and Estella had been shocked that Merry would keep something like this from her – something that would change everything, for how could they stand against their fathers, both of them only wanting what was best?

But then, it turned out that Merry had been just as surprised, for it had been a decision made long ago, when he had just come of age – and while their fathers had been in agreement, and the proper papers had been written up and signed, neither family had thought it in their best interest to inform either Merry or Estella of their eventual wedding.

Opening her eyes, Estella looked at Merry – and found that he was now looking at her. He smiled, pressed up closer, and Estella smiled even as they kissed, warm and sleepy.

'Good morning,' he whispered against her mouth, and Estella pressed up closer, grinning as she did.

'And good morning to you,' she said, moving her hand. Merry gasped, sounding somewhat breathy, and then he laughed, his eyes shining.

'So, it really isn't all that terrible, oh?'

'Not at all, dear husband,' she said, and when he wrapped one arm around her, she gave no protest, only gasping agreement, when he drew her more close than she'd even thought possible, when skin pressed warm against skin.

They left the bedroom when the time seem right, and shared a bath in one of the big copper tubs, because it seemed most efficient. After that, Merry told Estella he would prepare breakfast in bed, and kissed her soundly then asked her to return to their room: and she was charmed by this side of him that she hadn't ever known, she went without hesitation.

Of course, the bed was big and cold without Merry there to warm it, and Estella counted the empty seconds until he returned. When her stomach rumbled, she laughed, and Merry said, 'Well, I see you now have what you wanted most,' and she kissed him then took a warm scone from the tray, and his kiss tasted of butter and brambleberry, and all things warm.

Second breakfast might have been so informal, but Estella and Merry both found they had worked up a proper appetite, and laughed as they went to the kitchen. 'Tell me your favourite colour,' she asked him, and he told her 'yellow', as well as 'blue'. Estella nodded, and set the table, as Merry, dressed in his long robe, stood before the stove. 'The summer you were eighteen, and I was fifteen, you rather seemed to like to pull my hair. Tell me, Merry, however did you come to that belief?'

He didn't turn, and the cooking sausage sizzled, and Estella's stomach gave a rather hearty rumble. 'Because I liked you, I suppose. Pippin could be as impossible to be around, but at least he was a lad.'

'I daresay you never thought to pull his hair.'

'Well, that wouldn't be as fun. And anyhow, I can't say Pippin blushes twice so nice as you do once I've managed to get you mad.'

Estella stared at him, blankly shocked, and for a moment she didn't know if she would laugh or if she'd shout. Merry turned to look at her, and his smile warmed her heart, and her laugh was full of joy. She went to join him at the stove, for there was other work to be done before second breakfast would be finished, and they hadn't even started on the eggs.

Elevenses was would need to be eaten rather quickly, for a message-lad had come from Brandy Hall, by the name of Tip – he carried a message from the Master and the Mistress, that they would be joining their son and daughter-in-law for luncheon. The message delivered, and the message-lad sent home with a sticky sweetcake as thanks, Estella and Merry found the meal that followed was equally sticky, and rushed.

That called for another bath, of which there hardly seemed to be enough time – but soon enough, the water was cooling, and they were cooling too. 'Who did you first kiss?'

'A gentlehobbit doesn't kiss and tell,' Merry said, eyes glinting.

'And did a gentlehobbit tell you that?'

With a small laugh, Merry nodded. 'Actually, yes.'

Estella pursed her lips, and must have seemed very thoughtful. 'One told me that once, as well. I must say, I believed it more from him than I do from you.' And she grinned, then moved closer, and kissed him once more – and Merry eagerly kissed her in return. Then Estella did something her first kisser had done, though it hadn't been their first kiss. She bit gently on Merry's lower lip, which made Merry gasp, and that Estella feel really quite hot. Then she laughed into the remainder of their kiss, or perhaps she moaned – either way, their mouths found themselves rather occupied, after that.

'You'll still not tell me?' she asked, and Merry's eyes glinted more brightly than before.

'I tell you,' he said, and kissed her once more, slow and devouringly. 'A gentlehobbit doesn't kiss and tell.'

And Estella laughed once more, and felt better for it.

Really though, it didn't matter much that Merry'd not give her a proper answer, for Estella still had a very good idea of who it had been. And anyhow, there would be time enough for such questions, later on, for they found themselves with a pressing luncheon to decide upon, and then prepare.

And luncheon was hardly a disaster, and ended just as it ought to have – and if Esmeralda said anything telling, as a mother was likely to, at least Merry blushed harder than Estella did, and Saradoc only laughed.

Somehow, day turned to night, and they lay together in the front parlour, on the floor on a great spread out comforter, the air warm and sweet.

'What did you think,' Estella asked, as the fire popped and danced, 'when you heard that we would marry?'

'Well, I hadn't thought myself ready. But I suppose going away had a hand in that, for I've found myself ready for things I'd not ever have conceived. I've always been fond of you, you know, even when I was pulling on your hair.'

'Well, good,' Estella said, and then was quiet. Then, she went on. 'You know, with all the growing you've been doing, I'm glad you've outgrown that.'

'You know, I've dealt with orcs and trolls and other such monsters – marriage to you quite pales in comparison,' and there was laughter in his voice.

Estella of course laughed in returned, even when she pulled on his hair, which led to more laughter, as well as more play. After that, once they'd kissed and calmed down, they tangled together and watched the fire burn down.

They rose the next day, and did not distract each other so well as they had before. There was a bitter note in the air, a chill that seeped in from outside, no matter how high they piled on the wood – and Merry seemed somehow distant, and Estella thought it for both their best if they went out, and had a bit of air.

They rode to the forest, first, and Estella hadn't thought of it as such, nor planned it, but found that they raced. There was something shining about Merry, and she hadn't ever noticed it before – but now she found it difficult that she would see him as anything else than this shining bright lad, her Merry, brilliant as the Sun.

They rested by the River, a faint sheen of ice glistening as the afternoon sun warmed, a blanket spread out on the cold ground, and melted – and they had a bit of luncheon that they'd packed beforehand, and Merry told Estella of Rohan, and of his King, and of Ιomer, who was his King as well, but who would never have so special a place in his heart as had Thιoden – and of Ιowyn, whom he had ridden to battle with. Estella found she understood Merry's quietness now more than she had ever guessed, for she saw now a hobbit who had lost all hope, and would have gladly died, if only he would have died well.

She wondered if she could ever love him so thoroughly to make that darkness go away – but perhaps that darkness was a part of him. After all, there would always be shadow, just like there would always be light.

It was strange, somehow, in seeing this part of Merry that she loved him more than she had, and even just moments before. Perhaps she had been made to love him, and he to love her – it seemed now that he needed her, or at least he needed to be loved. Perhaps he would need her, too.

In any instance, she would kiss him as thoroughly as she could, and she would make certain he always knew he had her heart, most especially if they'd found some reason to quarrel.

'I'd thought I'd come to understand you as fully as I could,' Estella said on another morning, some time after that last. 'That I knew your light and your shadow, and that I knew your heart. Well, I've hardly had enough time, but some of us are born to what we know, and some of us well adapt to what is given, most especially if it is unexpected.'

Merry looked at her, and smiled. He was making breakfast, as ever he seemed to. Estella rose from her seat, took his hand. 'I thought you missed the world beyond, and I... but I see it's something more.'

Merry was distant, and yet he looked at her – she reached up, and touched his face, pressed her palm against his cheek. 'Whyever did he have to go?'

Sudden tears glistened in Merry's eyes, though he blinked them away. The smile he offered, afterwards, was shaky, and he kissed her, perhaps so she might not notice that he had not answered.

But she had noticed, and told him as much, and Merry scrubbed at his eyes and pulled away – she must have startled him, and she likely had made him cross with her, for he went out the kitchen, heavy steps on the floor, and the back door all but shook as he shut it hard behind him.

Yet there was something in the silence that he'd left behind that called to her, and once she'd straightened the mess they'd left in the kitchen, she followed him outside, and found him sitting on the cold ground, nearest to their well, yet furthest from the back shed.

She said nothing, simply knelt at his side – oh, and the ground was cold, colder than before, near as cold as Estella imagined a tomb must be – almost, though Estella hadn't ever and wrapped her arms around him. It seemed, suddenly, that it was the first time she had seen him since Frodo had gone away, and his pain now was as raw as it had been then, and he did not sob, for she could feel it in how tense he was, but he would not allow himself to grieve so openly, and so noisily.

But he turned in her embrace, and he was cold and hot all at once, and she cupped his face and kissed his tear-damp mouth, and when he, somehow, amazingly, without any sense, laughed as their kissed ended, as he pulled but a breath away, she thought it the most beautiful thing in all the world, and believed herself well-blessed to have him in her life.

He slept soundly that night, stirred not at all, and yet Estella found herself plagued by relentless nightmares, and she couldn't bear the thought of sleep. She built up the fire in the front parlour, sat before it with a glass of hot brandy. When Merry joined her, sat behind her, wrapped his arms about her, she found she felt quite complete, and hadn't thought that that could be.

She made a decision, but hardly thought it the proper time to share something so big. 'Here, have a drink,' she said, and offered it to him. He kissed her neck, his hand warm where it touched her wrist, and Estella shivered despite the heat.

It was the next day, sometime after afternoon tea, Estella feeling half-exhausted but still knowing it needed to be said. 'Merry, I've been thinking – and, well, you're allowed to invite Pippin back earlier, if you'll feel any better. It doesn't seem right, you know, you being here, and him so far away.'

Really, she thought it would make her feel better. The more she came to understand Merry, the more she felt found, and yet at the same time, somehow, irrevocably lost.

'I don't need him by my side constantly,' Merry said, but Estella hardly thought that true. If he didn't need Pippin, then he must not have needed air. He had been left too often, and Estella would not have that happen again.

'Oh, Merry, my dear, dear Merry.' She took his hands, and had to stand on tiptoe to kiss him, and then she leaned her forehead against his cheek. 'I love you, you know, and I shall love you all I can. I've no doubt Pippin misses you, as well.'

Merry said nothing, and there was something in his eyes that Estella found impossible to contemplate, yet perfectly understandable. She knew somehow that he and Merry would be together until their end, and that their end would come after her own. And somehow, in all the quiet spaces left of heart, and of the deep music that pulsed in her blood, she was quite alright with that, and her place as Merry's wife, as well as one love.

And they still had Yule at Brandy Hall to look forward to, after all that.