The story of my life is nothing of excitement like that of my husband. I was born into a quiet life in the Shire. My family was small and hard-working. We were also full of laughs and love. Every day we tended to our garden and farm animals, or whatever else required our attention at the time. In the evening we enjoyed good food, good ale, good smoke, and good company...as do almost all hobbits of the shire.
it just so happened that I was wrestling with the family cow, Gerda, for some milk, when I saw my future husband riding into town on his small horse. He was wearing clothes that were unusual in the shire, and an elvish cape that draped handsomely over his shoulders. I had seen Meriadoc Brandybuck countless times during my life, but he somehow looked different now. He seemed calm and confident, and perhaps a bit taller, but maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. He had been gone for over a year, after all. There was something else about him that seemed different. His once broad, smiling face now carried a bit of sadness along with it. I saw it written on his face and in the faces of his companions as their horses carried them past me, and toward their homes.
I couldn't help myself, I gazed at him and his friends as they glided past me. I had almost forgotten myself when I noticed Merry had looked my way. I quickly ducked down behind Gerda, embarrassed that he had caught me staring at them. I quickly got back to milking, I mean wrestling, with Gerda until they had passed far enough down the road for me to stare again. I imagined the places they had been and the things they had seen – things I would never see from my family's farm in the Shire.
It was right in the middle of my daydreaming when I heard my mother. "Estella! Bring the milk! Hurry, child! We're waiting on you!" I quickly snapped out of my daze and finished as best I could. I grabbed my bucket of milk, patted Gerda on the back and said "See you in the morning, old girl." I hauled the bucket into our old, rustic hobbit hole. Our door was round, as were most doors in the shire. Our hole was a bit older than most, and was in need of a few repairs, but it had much character. A home that was clearly filled with love and good memories. Our walls had no paint, just the bare wood. We had a few drawn portraits of family members; my grandparents, Herugar and Jessamine Bolger, a few aunts and uncles, and there was a beautiful portrait of my parents on the day of their wedding. Other various doilies and hand made quilts were strewn around our hobbit hole as well. It was a very homey and comfortable place to grow up.
I took the bucket of milk to the kitchen and helped my mother prepare our supper. I sliced and diced countless vegetables while my mother prepared a bird my brother, Fredegar, had snared. No matter how many times I reoriented myself to my current task, I couldn't stop thinking about Merry and his friends. The looks on their faces were ones of relief to be home, but I couldn't shake the feeling that they were still at unrest about something. I couldn't imagine what had happened to them in the last year to change them so.
It didn't take long for word to spread across the Shire about the return of the great adventurer hobbits. We had three visitors before we even sat down to eat. None of them knew anything useful, just that the men were back.
When we finally got rid of our company and ate our supper, the four friends were all my brother could talk about. He asked endlessly about them, wondering where they had been and why they had been gone so long. I could see that my mother was getting tired of hearing his rambling, but to her credit, she said nothing. After eating, my father and brother went to the Green Dragon for drinks, where they hoped to see Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam to inquire about their absence. I longed to go with them, to catch a glimpse of Merry, but I knew my father would never allow it. "A pub is no place for a young girl," he would tell me. I tried arguing with him once, telling him that Rose Cotton was a young girl and she was allowed in the pub, but my father would hear none of it. He said Rose had a job there, whereas I would just be easy prey for a local drunk.
While the men were at the pub, my mother and I cleaned up the mess from supper. Then we sat near the fire, while my mother mended the holes my father and brother had put in their clothes while tending to our garden that day. I mindlessly followed suit and mended holes of my own. My imagination ran wild with visions of Merry and his friends slaying dragons and battling unknown evils.
I was curled up under my blankets by the time my father and brother returned from the pub. I quietly hopped out of my old, squeaky bed and tiptoed across my room to put my ear to my door, in hopes of hearing some news of Merry's whereabouts for the last year. Much to my dismay, I heard nothing discernible. Just the sound of two sloshed hobbits wobbling through the house, trying to make their way to their beds without breaking anything. A little disheartened, I returned to my bed and crawled under my covers. I let out a long sigh and settled back in. It didn't take long for my imagination to carry me off to the place where dreams rule.
Morning starts early for farmers in the Shire. I arose before the sun, and headed out to fight with Gerda again. She was just as feisty today as she had been the day before. She swayed and kicked at me as I tried to thief her milk. After the wrestling match with Gerda, I headed to the kitchen to help my mother with breakfast. My father and brother were rising as we finished cooking. As we sat down at the table to eat, my heart begged for them to talk about their night at the pub, but I couldn't bring myself to ask out loud. The last thing I wanted was for my brother to know that I had my eye on Merry. With a mouth like Fredegar's, it wouldn't take long for everyone in the Shire to know my secret. And less than that, I wanted my father to know. There aren't many things in this world more frightening for a girl than having her father find out she's is in love for the first time.
After eating, the men headed out to the garden. My father asked me to check on our picket fence, as it seemed to need some attention. Sure enough, the fence was desperate for some repair. The wood at the bottom had rotted and needed to be replaced. Women in the Shire were no delicate creatures. We all worked hard on our farms, and the work never seemed to end. So I knelt down on the ground and started pulling out the old posts. It was warm out and it didn't take long for me to work up a sweat as I pushed and pulled on the posts to loosen them from the dirt. After the first five posts or so, I didn't pay much attention to where I tossed the old posts behind me. All of a sudden I heard one of the posts make a loud thunk noise and I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Ow!" The voice bellowed. I quickly turned around to see Merry behind me, knocked on the ground and rubbing the side of his head, above his ear. The spot where I assumed the post I hurled had hit him. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I turned blood red and gasped.
"I'm SO sorry, Merry! I didn't see you!" I quickly stood up and rushed to his side. "Are you okay? Are you bleeding? I'm so sorry!" I tried to inspect the damage I had done, but Merry held his hand over the wound. I could see he was trying to keep his composure, but was clearly in pain. He sat there for a minute, silently rubbing his head. I waited anxiously for him to get angry and start yelling at my carelessness, but he didn't. He regained his composure and slowly stood up. I reached over and brushed the dirt and grass off of his cloak. I couldn't help but notice the leaf shaped clasp that held his cloak together around his neck. It was deep green with silver veins. I could tell by it's simplicity and beauty that it was an elvish creation.
"I'll be fine," he said as he held his hand over the spot where my post hit. His eyes slowly rose to meet mine and he gave me a halfhearted smile. He took a few steps, walking away. I grabbed his arm to stop him. "Wait, I can't just let you go. You might be really hurt. Please come in and rest for a spell. We're just about to have second breakfast," I offered. He smiled again. "I can't. I was just out getting some air before I went on my way to see Frodo Baggins," he told me. A small ping of hurt ran through me when he told me he couldn't stay. I wondered to myself if he really had some place to be or if he just wanted to get away. I'm sure I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to get away from the girl who just tried to bludgeon him with a fence post. Even still, I wanted to help.
"Are you sure you're okay? I feel terrible. Is there anything I can do?" I offered again. He looked at me kindly, and grinned. "I think I'll live. I must be going." He took a few steps, then turned to me with a genuine smile. "Be careful with those posts, now." He said. I was grateful that he turned quickly and started walking down the road so he wouldn't see how red my cheeks and ears became. I couldn't help but smile though, at this small interaction.
I slowly made my way back to the fence, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Merry as he walked down the road toward Bag End. As soon as he rounded the corner and I couldn't see him anymore, I got back to work on the fence. The task went by much faster now that I was able to relive the smile he had given me over and over again. A smile so sweet for someone who could have just as easily been bitter and rude over the clumsiness of a young girl
