Merry awoke the next morning with a stinging pain in his lower abdomen. Groaning, he turned to the side to grasp a small vial from the nightstand. After taking a whiff of the contents he laid back down. The sun's rays shot through the curtains. It was going to be a clear day. Sam stirred next to him and rose stretching. He moved over to the window and drew back the curtains. Merry shielded his eyes at the intensity of the beams.

"Feeling any better?" Sam asked.

"Yes, a lot better," replied Merry. "My stomach feels tender, though, and I'm a bit weak."

"Well, that is expected," Sam said. "After all, you did quite a number on yourself last night."

"I know," Merry muttered. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"You will talk about it once we return to Crickhollow," Sam sternly added. "This is not a matter I am about to let go."

"I figured as much," sighed Merry. "I'm a bit hungry. Perhaps you could fetch me some food?"

Sam's eyebrow rose. "Oh, so I'm your servant now, eh? As far as I'm concerned you should get up and fetch it on your own Meriadoc Brandybuck, but I suppose I have no choice. The last thing I want is for you to harm yourself by merely snooping about for a meal."

Sam walked toward the door but was stopped by Orlin and Terlin. The two motioned for him to return to the bedside by Merry. Terlin lifted a portion of Merry's nightshirt to gaze at the stitching.

"Ah, a very pleasant sight indeed," he murmured. "I am amazed; you are healing quite well Mr. Brandybuck. I do believe you'll be up and about in another day or two, with precautions of course. You mustn't exert yourself or you could tear the stitching open. I also suggest that you not eat anything for at least two more hours. I do not want you upsetting your stomach so soon. Also, eat small amounts. If you gorge yourself it will only make you more sick."

"Only get up to walk about if it is extremely necessary," Orlin said. "You have lost a great deal of blood so you will be weak for awhile. Have someone to assist you at all times. My brother and I will about, working in town. If something should happen send someone out, they would find us quick enough. Good day to you. Remember, no meals for two hours."

"I also suggest that Sam help you with walking exercises," Terlin said. "It will be painful but you need to do it. Do not worry if it feels like the stitching is stretching, that is normal. Notify us if any leakage occurs."

"Yes, yes, I understand," Merry grumbled as the two men headed for the door. Once the two had vanished he turned to his friend. "Get me some food, Sam, please?"

"Now, now, you heard Terlin's orders," Sam said. "There is to be to no food in your belly for two hours."

"But.."

"Good morning sirs," Butterbur chirped, carrying a pitcher of water. "I just strolled by to see how the two of you were doing, especially you Merry. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, Butterbur, much better," Merry replied. "I am so sorry about your room. If there were any major damages to your property I will be more then willing to pay."

"I already told you that won't be necessary," Butterbur said, shaking his head. "No harm done. I must say, though, you caused quite an uproar last night and I'm not talking about your....suicide attempt. Men at The Twin Dragons were all riled up. Apparently, none had ever seen a halfling defend himself in such a manner, scared most out of their wits. There were a few, however, crying for your blood. I saw a couple of grungy fellows enter here, looking for you, but I managed to get rid of them. When you leave I suggest you travel cautiously for you have made a few enemies. I wish I could tell you a safe route to take but all have their share of dangers. Enough of that though. Is there anything I can fetch for you? Eggs, sausage, and biscuits have been made, fresh from the hearth. Perhaps I could bring you some, Merry? You are looking a bit pale."

"I would like...."

"I am sorry Butterbur but he cannot eat for another two hours," Sam interrupted. "If by then you have any left I am sure you can bring it up."

"Oh, well, would you like anything then Sam?" Butterbur asked.

"No thanks," Sam replied. "The water will do for now."

"Very well," said Butterbur. "If you change your mind you know where to find me."

With Butterbur gone Sam slid his arms under Merry's armpits. "Come, Merry, let's do some walking." Merry's body flinched at the touch and jerked back as he was pulled from the bed. "Stop squirming or I will lose my grip on you."

"I am sorry," Merry grunted, "but it is painful. Every time I move a cramp forms in my abdomen. Can we do at a different time? Maybe later in the day?"

"We really should continue but I can tell that you are still weary from the night," sighed Sam, lowering Merry back down. "I suppose exercises could wait until mid-day."

A soft knock caused the two hobbits to gaze up. The door opened revealing Nob's form.

"Sorry to bother you Mr. Gamgee and Mr. Brandybuck but I have a letter to deliver," said Nob. "It's addressed to Mr. Brandybuck."

"Who did it come from?" Merry asked, taking the letter from Nob.

"A messenger from Gondor delivered it," said Nob. "He told me it was important that you receive it. I must return to the stables. Good day to you."

Merry opened the envelope and read silently. Sam remained next to him, watching his face for any emotion but his expression stayed stonewall. Finally, he folded the letter and placed it back. His gaze averted from Sam, staring at the wall.

"King Elessar sends his regards for my loss," Merry murmured.

"How would he know?" Sam asked.

"He has the palantir, remember?" Merry sighed. "He must have been viewing it and saw the events. I am surprised he did not contact me sooner."

"Is that all the letter states?" inquired Sam.

Eyes downcast, Merry groaned. "I am set out in one month and meet him at Rivendell. Once there, I will accompany him to Minas Tirith."

"Wh-what?!" Sam yelled. "You have a son! How can he expect you to leave when you have responsibilities?!"

"Sam, please, we can discuss this later," Merry moaned. "Besides, you know he means well. He would not summon me unless it was utterly important. You know that."

"Forgive me," Sam sighed. "I am only worried about your welfare and your son's. How are you going to be able to journey that far with a newborn?"

"I will think of that when the time comes," said Merry. "Do not worry yourself over it."

For a moment the two remained silent.

"Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Could you get me some food?"

*

A day later Sam and Merry rode through the town square. Although still a bit frail, the two doctors had examined him and found that he was fit to ride. Merry spurred the pony to ride alongside Sam.

"I hope you are not still mad about yesterday," Merry said.

"You vomited on my new vest," growled Sam. "I knew I should not have gotten that food for you. Terlin specifically told you not to eat for two hours."

"Well, you were the one that retrieved it for me," Merry chuckled. "I never forced you to do it."

"No, you only moaned and whined until it nearly drove me insane," Sam muttered. "I had no choice but to please you to shut that mouth of yours. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to stay closed for long."

Merry made ready to answer but something caught his eye, a tree in the middle of the square. Men, women, and children were gathered around it, gazing up. The branches creaked and swayed in the wind but a form moved in rhythm with it. A listless body dangled from a rope tied to one of the limbs. His eyes widened when the body spun around, letting him receive a clear view of the face. The eyes of the man were still open, bulging from their sockets. Dried blood had crusted down the chin where it once flowed. Black and blue marks were riddled around the neck where the rope had dug into the flesh.

Suddenly, Merry became nauseated and immediately turned away. That, however, brought no relief for it brought back another image to Merry. The image of his wife, pale, bruised, and bloodied seeped back into his mind. Chills ran down his spine and spasms grew in his body. Merry's body tilted back and forth, close to toppling off the pony. Sam quickly stopped the ponies and pulled Merry's shaking form close to him.

"Steady, steady," Sam whispered. "I do not want you falling off the steed."

"That man....my wife," Merry stuttered.

"Keep your eyes away from him," said Sam. Merry's head began to turn. "No, I told you not to look. Rose is expecting us to return home tomorrow morning but I do not want to risk your life. It is a long way and there are no towns in between. I need to know, Merry, are you fit for travel?" He remained silent, his eyes clenching shut. "Merry, please look at me and answer, are you sure you are ready for this journey?"

Merry choked back a sob. "Yes, I can make it. I just...I want to go home but at the same time I do not. I cannot live in that house anymore. It would only bring back....I just can't. There is nothing left for me."

Sam glared down at him, digging his hands into Merry's shoulder. "I will not allow you talk like that. There is something at home for you Merry. A son waits for you or has his existence left your mind already?"

"I....I'm not sure if I can bear the sight of him," Merry squeaked. "Anger is still rampant within me and I am frightened that I may do something drastic."

"You...you blame him don't you?" Sam asked. "Tell me that I am wrong. You cannot possibly blame your son for these events."

"No, it is not that," Merry replied.

Sam looked over Merry's face and sighed. "Oh, I see now. You feel as if Peregrin should be dead, not Estella."

"As shameful a thought as is I cannot help it," Merry sobbed. "Every time my thoughts turn to him, I think of that."

"You are grieving," Sam soothed. "You just want your wife back."

"I want them both back," Merry cried.

"Yes, I know," said Sam. "Come, people are watching. We must return home."

Merry shuddered at the word.

More to follow.