Esmerelda Brandybuck and her son, Meriadoc sat across from each other in the parlor. Thirty-two year old Merry had no idea why his mother had called for him that fine spring morning, and he was a little annoyed at the delay in his day. His childhood playmate, the lovely young lass, Estella Bolger was expected for a visit within the hour and he was eager to meet with her. He twiddled his thumbs absentmindedly and waited for his mother to speak first.

"Don't fiddle so, Meriadoc, it's a bad habit."

He stopped immediately and sat up straighter in his chair, inwardly rolling his eyes. Was this all his mother wanted him for? To comment on his every flaw and shortcoming? He could barely resist a groan.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, indicating that she was about to launch into a long-winded speech on some dreary, dull topic. He prepared himself as she spoke;

"I want to talk about Odovacar and Rosamunda's girl, Estella Bolger." she said finally. Merry frowned and looked up from the wooden floorboards.

"What? Why?"

She sighed again and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

"I'm afraid, that you will have to...lessen your contact with her, Meriadoc. She's not appropriate companionship at this stage in your life."

Confused, he leaned forward, what was his mother really hinting at?

"Mother," he said, voice rising a little "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

She shifted in her chair and cleared her throat, another sign of an impending lecture.

"You are nearing your coming of age son," she began "It is time your started preparing to take up your father's position. Part of that privilege and responsibility is the duty of marriage and a family. I believe it is high time you look for a girl to marry."

Surprised, perplexed and a little embarrassed, Merry reached back to scratch his sandy head.

"I see," he answered "I suppose you're right, mama. But what does that have to do with Estella?"

She looked at him sharply, eyebrows raised in surprise, she gazed at him as if he were crazy.

"You don't know?" she asked, a little breathlessly. He shook his head, growing ever more curious and annoyed.

"Don't know what, Mama?" he asked, exasperated. "Speak plainly!"

Esmerelda seemed genuinely surprised by his confusion, though he didn't understand it at all. She was being vague and coy, and sorting through her words was a difficult and dreary task. His mother was usually not one to beat around the bush. She was sharp and direct, a forward thinking woman with a logically working mind. Merry understood her on some levels, he had many of the same traits. Today however, she was being just the opposite, and he was irritated by her lack of tact.

She gathered herself to speak again, looking him straight in the eye with that way she had. He was instantly afraid for what she had to say.

"Estella Bolger, lovely child though she is, is not a suitable match for the next Master of Buckland."

Suitable match? Did she mean what he thought she meant? Marriage…to her of all hobbits! He wanted to laugh, but laughter wouldn't come. Instead another feeling was welling up inside him. Doubt, mixed with trepidation and a sudden, inexplicable yearning. He tried to hide the storm of emotion from his mother and managed a small chuckle.

"A match? As in marriage?" he asked, forcing himself to sound jovial. "Really Mother, I do think that's looking a little far ahead."

"I don't," she answered with her old familiar sharpness. Now that the subject had been brought up properly she would return to normal he was sure. "As I've already stated, you are closing in on your coming of age, as is she. Tongues wag in Buckland, Meriadoc, you should know. The amount of time you spend with her has come into question recently. People are beginning to wonder, rumors are spreading, haven't you noticed?"

He hadn't, in fact. He spent little time with the sorts of folks he knew would start such stupid chatter behind his back, preferring his cousins, Pippin and Frodo among others, his friends, and of course, Estella. Thinking of her the way his mother was suggesting made his palms sweat and heat fill his face. He hoped his mother would attribute it to what she had said.

"I don't spend time with Estella to marry her, mama," he answered after a pause, unsure how to respond to her accusation. "She's just a friend, one of my best playmates. I don't think of her like…like that."

Esmerelda smirked, a smug look coming over her face. "Utter nonsense! Foolish boy, don't you think I can see right through all that rot? I am a woman, your mother besides! I can see the sparkling eyes of a young lad in love."

Blushing, Merry rose from his chair. "That's not true, mama!" he snapped, irritably. "Estella is my friend, nothing more, and I really don't think it's any of Buckland's business who I spend my idle hours with!"

Esmerelda seemed flustered by his outburst, and she was never one to sit back and let herself be trod over. She was fiercely determined and strong-hearted, a fact which had won over his father once upon a time.

Estella has that in her, Merry realized suddenly. Though not so potently and so aggressively. He shrugged the thought away as quickly as he could when he realized he was dwelling on her again.

"Really, Meriadoc!" she huffed, annoyed. "Calm yourself. Do you want the entire hall to hear you?"

"From what you're saying it seems the entire countryside already knows enough. What does it matter who hears me?"

She gave him a long, cool look. "Meriadoc, I simply think you would do better to spend time with more respectable young ladies. It's hardly proper for the next Master of Buckland to constantly hang around an orphan. She has nothing to offer you."

Merry burned, glowering from his seat across the room. How dare his mother assume so much.

"Why should I need to take anything from her? She's my friend mother." he answered, striving to remain calm and collected. She looked at him reproachfully.

"You know very well what I meant by that, son." she answered him "You're not far from your coming of age, after that comes a wife, then a family, and then you assume your father's duties. You need a woman of class, of breeding, of respectable upbringing. Estella is certainly not a bad child, but she is out of your ranking, your wife must be of noble Buckland blood, not some backwoods, wild, tomboy."

Merry had heard far too much, angrily, he leapt to his feet.

"You're completely wrong about her mother!" he cried, unable to restrain himself "Estella is as good a girl as I could wish for, why papa himself said I couldn't hope to do any better! Besides, I'm not looking to marry her, or anyone, for a good long time, so you can just forget about it!"

Esmeralda looked at him coolly, obviously angered by his outburst. She frowned.

"She's changed you, Meriadoc. You're not the same boy you were before Frodo and Bilbo introduced you that summer. You've become...oh, I don't know!" she said, exasperated.

"She's made me better, mama." he told her, fiercely.

Sighing, Esmerelda shook her head. "Your father and I are going to be discussing this with you when he gets a chance. Until then, try to keep what I've said in mind. Don't do anything foolish with that orphan girl."

Angry at his mother's careless treatment of his friend, he reined in his thoughts and words and stormed out of the room in an angry blaze. He was so furious that he didn't even notice the figure standing in the shadows around the corner until it was too late.

Knocked to the ground in his haste, the young lady before him was sporting a soft, yellow dress, patched and faded, with golden curls pulled back with a neat, blue bow. Estella looked up at him and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. Surprised and embarrassed, he reached down and helped her to her feet.

"Sorry, 'Stella, I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

She nodded quickly, avoiding his eyes as she smoothed her skirts. "I'm fine." But she didn't sound fine. Merry narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the doors of the parlor, so his mother would not overhear.

Overhear? He stopped in surprise. Had Estella overheard the conversation he had just been having? Had she stood here alone and quiet and shocked as his mother slandered her and belittled her and demeaned her? And he'd done so little to defend her, in the throes of his anger and his tight, vexing emotions he hadn't thought to speak up for her more, instead he'd only pushed aside the notion of her wiling at him as though they were the fanciful imaginings of a worried mother. He swallowed heavily and looked at her again.

"How long were you standing there?" he asked, hesitantly. Still, she stared at the ground, face downcast and eyes avoiding his. She was quiet for a moment.

"Long enough."

His heart sank and he scrambled to respond to her soft, sad tone. "Estella, she didn't really mean what it sounded like. You're a lovely girl, my mother knows that, and I know that. I'm sorry for all that, I know it must have sounded terrible."

She cut him off gently, but firmly. "It's fine, Merry. I just came to tell you I won't be able to visit today, Fatty wants me home, we're having company. I just came to let you know."

With that, she left, walking down the halls, her feet making a soft pat pat down the wooden floorboards. He stared after her, watching her leave and wanting to run after her. What she had said was an obvious lie, he knew her well enough.

Go after her, you fool!

Before he could spur himself into action, she had rounded a corner and was gone. He tried to follow, but she'd disappeared in the maze of hallways. Lost to him. Cursing, he kicked at a doorframe and stalked back to his room, angry with his mother, with himself, with her. He hated the feelings she stirred up inside him. The way he craved her attention, her time, her company, the way she made his heart flutter with just a word or a laugh. How she could crush him simply by walking away was utterly beyond him.

This unfortunate attraction had dominated his life so long. For years he'd felt this way for her, this way that his mother feared and reviled. He had long hoped the feelings would die with time, after all, who was he to love Estella? She was far too wonderful a girl for him, no matter her social status.

He hoped that she wasn't too offended. He hoped that she would want to speak to him again soon. But he knew that if he went to her, he would be proving his mother's point.

Then again, he had never been much of an obedient child. He had defied her on more than one occasion. He would do it again.

Gathering his resolve he raced down the halls and out the door into the sunshine, running down the path to catch up to the girl he was forbidden to love.