Warnings: Minor gore.

The morning had changed drastically since Merry had left. The bright, blue sky had turned gray and the birds fell silent. He steered the pony on, coming into view of Sam's housing. A smile formed on his face as he saw smoke puffing from the chimney. When he approached the door a young hobbit, who he recognized as Sam's sister, scampered out beating the dust out on a rug. She waved politely to him and resumed her chore.

"Marigold, what are you doing here?" Merry asked. "Where are Sam and Rose?"

"Oh, you just missed them," Marigold replied, never looking up. "That doctor, Brombleburr, stopped by and asked that they accompany him on an emergency run. They needed someone to watch the children so Sam asked that I do it. Most distressing now that I think on it. Apparently, there was a robbery in Crickhollow that went sour. Some hobbit was attacked and left for dead."

"Who in Crickhollow was attacked?" Merry inquired, sweat beginning to form on his brow.

"I do not know," Marigold answered. "Mr. Brombleburr would not tell us, although, he seemed very stressed on the matter of finding you. He said that if you were to stop by to give you the message to return home at once. I cannot imagine why---"

Merry never gave Marigold the chance to finish. Steering the pony around he took off at high speed down the path. The hours went by slowly and the closer he came to his home, the darker the sky became. He could soon see it in the distance.

As Merry pulled up to his home a pang of fear entered him. He could see the empty space where the door had once been, now busted off the hinges; three sets of footprints trampled in the earth; two ponies tied to the rack. The dream was almost coming to life. Merry dismounted, dashing for the entrance when Rose cut him off. Her face was pallid and weary.

"Merry...I...I...we..." she stuttered, before turning away to run to the bushes.

He darted in only to stop in shock at the sight of man, unconscious but breathing, lying on his kitchen floor. A bloodied bandage covered a wound over his abdomen and with every breath the red coloration grew darker. A soft crying caught Merry's ears. It was coming from the bedroom but it was not the voice of his wife. His eyes burned while stepping through the hall. He already knew what awaited him beyond that door. As he reached for the knob the door flew open to reveal Sam.

"Sam?" Merry whimpered, reaching for him.

Sam jerked away from Merry's hold, staggering into the hallway before collapsing against the wall. He returned his attention to the room, where he could see Brombleburr's form hovering over the bed. Merry forced his feet forward, each step feeling like deadweight. Brombleburr turned, gave him a panged glance, and moved aside. What Merry saw made his head spin. There, tangled among the bloodied sheets, lay Estella. Merry rushed over taking her in his arms, gently rocking her, her eyes half open and staring blankly. Cool air and tears brushed his neck.

"Oh, my Estella," Merry murmured. "My love, I thought you were dead. Thank goodness you are alright. Everything will be fine, dear. Everything will be fine...."

His chant soon ended at the sound of Brombleburr's voice. Merry could only look on in confusion as the hobbit shook his head. It dawned upon him then. His dear wife was not alive. The tears were nothing more then cold, stale sweat. The breaths nothing more the gusts of air from his persistent rocking. He gazed down into her eyes, dull and lifeless. His hand cupped the bruised eye, gently caressing. In a fit of anguish he pressed his lips roughly against hers in hope that it would bring her back to life. Soon, he was trailing light kisses over her cheeks, eyes, and nose. When done, Merry looked down at her in vain, praying for any movement but none came. Tears streamed down as he buried his face in her damp curls.

"No, no," Merry whimpered. "It is not supposed to happen this way. She talked to me.....she talked to me....I will never hear her voice again...."

Merry's thoughts were interrupted as a loud squeal rang throughout the room. The baby, he had forgotten about the baby. At the foot of the bed lay a small bundle with a form flaying and screaming. A deadly thought ran through Merry. Steaming rage replaced it. Unwittingly, he moved down the bed with his arms stretched out toward the baby. Brombleburr, catching Merry's intentions, snatched the baby away.

"No Merry," Brombleburr said. "I do not think it would be wise for you to hold him until you are sound of mind."

"He is my son," Merry growled. "Give him to me at once."

"Merry, please," Brombleburr pleaded, "You are grieving....."

"I said give him to me!" Merry screamed.

Lunging forward, he lashed out trying to take the baby from Brombleburr. The other hobbit ducked and turned his back in a desperate attempt to shield the little one. He winced as Merry clawed at his back.

"Merry stop!" he yelled. "You will hurt Peregrin!"

"Peregrin...." Merry said, stepping back. "Pip...."

Shame clouded over him when he realized what he had almost done to his son, his Peregrin.

'Gods, what am I becoming?' he thought. 'There is no excuse for my behavior. What would Estella think? What would my dear cousin think?'

His back hit the wall and he slumped to the floor clutching at his hair. Sighing, Brombleburr left the room with the little one in his arms. Merry gathered himself up from the floor and slid next to his wife's still form. There, he wrapped his arms around her waist and snuggled his cheek against her cold neck, weeping bitterly. Hours passed before he was seen in the kitchen. Sam and Brombleburr were waiting for him, watching his every step. He seemed strangely calm, no emotion, only tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. A low whimper drew his attention, causing him to move over to the fallen man. Blind rage was swelling in him once again. Uneasiness swept over Sam, watching Merry kneel before the man.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my home?" Merry snarled, glaring into the man's eyes. "Were you the one that beat and stabbed my wife?"

"No, no!" the man cried, avoiding Merry's eyes. "I swear I never harmed her!"

"You are lying," hissed Merry.

The hobbit drew out the tiny blade sheathed at his belt. A startled gasp came from the others as Merry brought the blade to the man's throat, slowly pressing it in. Sam slowly rose from his seat.

"No, no I swear that I speak the truth!" the man wailed, tears seeping from his eyes.

"Liar," countered Merry.

"Please," he stuttered pitifully, "please give me a chance to explain!"

"A chance?" Merry asked, a mocking tone in his voice. "Why do you deserve such a chance?! My wife never had a chance!"

Before he could slice the man's throat a hand grasped his and pulled him back. When he spun around he came face to face with Sam. The hobbit looked upon him sternly and tightened his hold, but Merry would not yield.

"Merry, put the sword down," Sam said, his demeanor softening. "When Brombleburr and I arrived we found him tending to Estella the best he could, even with his gut wound. If it weren't for him little Peregrin would not be breathing."

Merry scowled, throwing down his sword. "If you are not the one who touched my wife then who did?"

"Haridur Pits and Delton Granggle," the man coughed. "I am known as Briggs. I worked with the two robbing paths and recently, homes in the Shire. Sir, if I had known your wife was home I would have done everything in my power....."

"What did they take?" Merry asked.

"What?" Briggs stuttered, wide eyed.

"What did they take, that was worth so much, that my wife had to pay with her life?" Merry inquired.

"A gold pendant from around her neck," Briggs whispered.

"That is it?" Merry laughed. "You barge into my home, demolish it, only find a golden necklace, and decide that is not enough, so you torture my pregnant wife?!"

"I tried to stop him!" Briggs screamed. "I tried! I tried! I saw him in the kitchen hovering over her with his sword, pulling it out of her belly. I tried to fend him off but he was a better fighter than I. He left us both for dead. None of the robberies had ever turned fatal except for the one eight months ago...."

"What did you just say?" Merry snapped.

"We robbed a hobbit going through the trails eight months ago," Briggs replied. "Haridur beat him badly and left him to die out in the wilderness. I heard he was found, and lived for a bit. I feel nothing but remorse for the hobbit that found that mess...."

"You are looking at him," Merry growled. "That hobbit you left to die was my cousin."

"He....was a relative? I...I...I am so sorry," Briggs sputtered. "Oh....oh Gods. Your wife....now your wife...."

The man turned his head and vomited. Merry turned away in disgust, looking down at his hands. The blood of his wife was all over his flesh, now dried and crusted over. Wincing, he wiped at his shirt vigorously to remove it but to no avail. He walked toward the opening, something catching his eye; the man could be dealt with later. Outside the sky had grown dark and in the distance the thunder boomed as the lightening cracked. Rose hustled by him, thoroughly drenched, into Sam's arms. He walked out in the rain, ignoring the pleas and rants behind him. This seemed familiar to him; he had done it before. His thoughts ran back and forth. Pippin. Estella. Pippin. Estella. The weight of anguish brought him to his knees, forcing him to the mud. He lay down on his side, embracing the cool earth and the damp wetness around him. His hands clenched, his eyes hardened, and he came to a realization: he could cry no more.

"Merry?" Sam murmured, gazing outside.

He jumped back as Merry stalked through the opening, muddied and wet. Overall stone faced, there was a glint in Merry's eyes that sent a shiver down Sam's spine. Not saying a word, Merry bent down to pick up his sword and sheathed it. He glared back down at Briggs.

"Where are the other two headed?" Merry asked.

"Bree," Briggs answered.

"Thank you, for what little help you have provided," Merry curtly said. "I do not wish for your blood to stain my hands. I only want the one that touched my wife...and my cousin. No doubt you will pay dearly when you pass into the next life."

"Indeed, I deserve whatever punishment awaits me," Briggs sobbed, spew dripping from the sides of his mouth. "I am sorry...."

"Save your breath," Merry hissed. "Apologies mean nothing to me right now."

"Merry, wait, where are you going?" Sam inquired, trying to grab his friend's arm.

Merry shook his hand off. "To Bree."

"To Bree? Why?" Sam asked.

Once he reached the doorway, he turned to look back. "Retribution."

Merry left his friend wide eyed, mounting the nearest pony and took off in the pouring rain. All too late did Sam run after him.

"Merry wait, wait!" he cried. "You cannot go to Bree alone it is too dangerous! Come back! Please, at least come back for your son's sake!"

But Merry could not hear Sam's words. His form disappeared in the gray haze.

More to follow.