*Some references to my other fic Forgotten. The age of Merry may be different compared to the books. Remember, this is AU.*

Warmth was the greeting Merry received as he regained consciousness. He ground himself lying in a soft bed draped in covers. The sound of a crackling fire drew his attention and upon gazing up he saw a lone chair sitting beside the hearth. A hand extended, jabbing at the rising flames with a poker. The figure rose, placed the poker aside, and glanced in Merry's direction. Fear entered Merry's mind while watching the stranger. He was unarmed and completely at the person's mercy. The figure stepped from the shadows, revealing a slender figure in a pale green gown.

"Do not be frightened little one," the woman said. "I mean you no harm."

"What am I doing here?" Merry asked, shivering.

"I found your body near the pond," the woman answered. "I couldn't just leave you out there drenched in the cold weather, now could I?" Merry shook his head. "I fear that you were injured as well. There was a deep gash in your leg but I managed to clean it with herbs and bandaged it also. I must say, you are pretty hardy for a hobbit. I saw the troll body floating at the bottom of the pond. How you were able to survive is beyond me."

"It wasn't easy," Merry chuckled, warming up to the woman.

"Oh, forgive my rudeness," the woman said. "I am Bremusa Orindale, former resident of Minas Tirith."

"I am Meriadoc Brandybuck," the hobbit said, "but you may call me Merry. Why are you so far into the woods all by yourself? Wouldn't you rather be in the confines of...."

"I could ask you the same thing, Merry," Bremusa answered. The woman sat again near the hearth, raking her nails through her chestnut colored hair. "It's far more unusual for a hobbit to be wandering the woods then a woman. What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I was traveling from Minas Tirith to return home to the Shire," Merry replied. "I'm going to see my son."

"Hm, I'm very surprised that the guards ever let you out at this time of night," Bremusa said. She gazed over his pallid form. "Especially someone that looks as if they could keel over any minute."

"I'm fine," Merry said.

"Yes, I'm sure," Bremusa sneered. "Your need to see this son of yours must be urgent if you risk death so freely. You need time to recuperate. It would be best if you'd stayed here for a bit."

Merry jerked and jumped from the sheets. "No, I cannot stay here! I'm very grateful for your hospitality, there's no doubt that I would have died if it hadn't been for you, but me staying in your home isn't an option. I have to admit that I'm not in the best of shape, worn down beyond my years due to stress and bodily harm. It won't be long before death comes to pay me a visit. Time is wasting; I must return to The Shire."

Bremusa stared at him with shock. "I knew you were ill but I never thought you were dying. You still look quite young, no more then thirty."

Merry blushed. "You are quite kind but I am in my fifties, which is still considered young among hobbits. The onslaught of age is starting to affect me."

"You're very handsome," Bremusa chuckled, causing the hobbit to turn crimson. "You certainly don't look old to me. Tell me of your family and perhaps I will tell a little about me."

Merry nodded and started his long tale beginning when Frodo had found The Ring. For what seemed hours Merry talked of his past as Bremusa listened near the hearth. Disbelief clouded her face as she heard his ordeal with the orcs alongside his cousin, the violent death of his beloved cousin and wife, and his departure from The Shire. With all said and done the two sat in silence until Bremusa broke it.

"I never conceived the thought that someone's life could be full of so much heartache and pain," Bremusa murmured. "Indeed, you are strong person Merry." She thought idly. "But I doubt you could ever make it home in your condition let alone deal with the dangers. There are other creatures abroad not to mention robbers lurking at every corner." Merry began to protest when the woman rose and silenced him. "I will journey with you. I may be a woman but I'm stronger then I look and have been trained with the sword. Believe me, you'll need help."

"I thank you for your offer but it isn't necessary," Merry said. "I can take care of myself."

"That type of attitude could get you killed some day," Bremusa replied. "Besides, you don't have much of a choice. I'm going with you whether you like it or not. For now, rest. We will speak more in the morning."

The woman tucked Merry back into bed and exited through a side door into another bedroom. The hobbit laid quietly until he thought the woman was asleep. He gathered his belongings and bolted out the door. The night air pierced his skin as he entered the outside. Ahead of him stood a small stable and he walked inside, finding a pony at the end of the stalls. Before taking the steed he placed a small pouch of coins on a nearby stool and then left the stable, leading the pony by its reins. The hobbit mounted the steed and rode off into the woods. He glanced once more at the disappearing house. Again, guilt was taking over him. He would be leaving another person, who cared for his well being, even though he didn't know her well.

He continued on until the morning light could be seen shinning through the trees. About to dismount from the steed a sharp blow struck his back causing him to fall to the ground. Tilting his head he found several men looming over him.

"Ugh, another wonderful find Thorine," one of the men growled. "I doubt this one carries much of value, considering he's a hobbit."

"It's not my fault Merwin," Thorine snapped.

"Shut up, the both of you," another man snarled. "Who knows, the little one may carry something." The man knelt, getting a better view of the hobbit. "And if he doesn't carry something I'm sure we can find another use for him. People are always looking for pretty slave." He grabbed Merry's curls and gave a hard yank. "Hm, doesn't appear to be all that young but he's still good looking for whatever age he may be. Search his things, now."

"Who gets to search him?" Merwin chuckled.

"Who do you think?" the leader snickered. "Take a look at his face Thorine. Tell me, do you recognize him?"

"Now that you mention it, this one does look mighty familiar," Thorine said. "Yeah, I do know him. He journeyed to The Twin Dragons to avenge the death of his wife. Can you believe he was the one that did in Haridur? I was there you know; I saw everything that little one did."

"Is that so?" the leader asked. "Well, it appears as if we have a feisty one. Perhaps we need to tame him, eh? Have a bit of fun?" He lowered his lips to the halfling's ear. "I am Nephril and Haridur was my cousin. I've been searching a long time for you my little hobbit. To think I've wasted twenty years of my life searching for you and taking innocent lives. Yes, I've come across many other hobbits and when I found they weren't the right one well, I had to dispose of them." Merry shuddered. "Yes, that's right you worthless creature; their deaths are on your hands not mine. If you had stayed in The Shire none of them would have had to die. I suppose it's nothing to worry about now. I've found you and have no intention of letting you out of my grasp. In fact, I'm not even going to kill you. I'm going to make certain that the rest of your life is a living hell. No one kills off my family members and gets away with it."

"Your cousin took my cousin's life along with my wife's," Merry yelled. "He deserved what he got."

The hobbit's comment earned him a sharp kick in the side.

"Do I look like I care what he did?" Nephril growled. "I think I'll start where he left off with you and then I'm going to let my men take a shot at you. Once they've finished I'll start all over again."

Merry sobbed as he felt cold fingers tearing at his cloak. He began to remember the time he was hauled off into the woods at the hands of the orcs. He was going to be violated all over again. As Nephril's hand tugged on his breeches a dagger shot out from the darkness striking the man's hand. Nephril let out a startled cry and released his hold on the hobbit. He gazed down at the dagger and his eyes went wide.

"Quickly, get out of here!" Nephril barked at his men. "The dagger is that Minas Tirith guard! Where there's one there is another. Move out!" He mounted the horse, nursing his hand, and giving Merry a fierce frown. "You and I will meet again hobbit. This is far from over."

The thieves took off into the darkness leaving Merry alone with his savior. The hobbit spun and delighted grin formed on his face.

"You really didn't think you could give me the slip now did you?" Bremusa asked, venturing from the brush atop a horse. "I used to be one of the Tower guards. Nothing gets by me."

"How long have you been following me?" Merry asked.

"Long enough," Bremusa laughed. She threw down the pouch of coins he had left. "Take it, I don't want it. The pony is yours for free."

"Thank you," Merry said, "for saving my life."

"I told you there were dangers," Bremusa sighed, "and it appears as if you have quite the group tracking you. I can guarantee it won't be the last we see of them. I know that man's type. He won't stop until he's succeeded in torturing you."

"You act as if you knew him," Merry said.

"I may have run into him a few times in the past," Bremusa murmured. "But we won't get into that right now. We must move on. They'll be back soon and tracking us in no time, especially when they realize that it's just a woman with you and not Minas Tirith guards."

Merry climbed back on top the steed and followed after Bremusa.

More to follow.