The water was ice cold as Merry hit, stinging his flesh like tiny needles as he sank beneath current. It was murky, which made it difficult for the hobbit for the hobbit to see anything. Then, beams from the moon reflected off the shimmering surface, giving Merry enough light to spot his sinking companion. He reached out, took hold of the flailing arm, and struggled to reach the surface of the creek. The two lunged upward, both gasping frantically for air while Merry attempted to keep his hold on the other hobbit to keep him from floating down stream. Merry swam diligently toward the shore but it was not easy fighting the swift current. It was some time before the two managed to reach the stable ground and they collapsed against it, completely exhausted and freezing.

"I owe you my life Merry," Sam panted, shivering violently. "If I weren't for you I would of surly drown and if you hadn't barged in before.....well I don't want to think about what could have been. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," Merry chuckled. "Besides, we aren't out of danger yet. If we do not reach the inn I fear we will freeze to death."

A low rustling came from behind, alerting both hobbits and causing them to jump upright. The tension faded when Milo's form came rushing out of the foliage, carrying several sets of blankets. He stopped and smirked at the two.

"I figured you two might need these, considering you would end up in the water," Milo snickered. "My, what a sight you are! Looking like a pair of drowned rats! Here, take these and warm up! I wouldn't want the two of you to catch your death of cold."

Merry took the soft blankets and firmly wrapped two around Sam's trembling body, only taking one for himself. After enveloping the blanket around his shoulders, Merry motioned to the inn.

"What is happening to Ralof and his men?" Merry inquired.

"Well, Brandel has called on the Marshall and he'll be dropping by to pick up Ralof and the few of his men that were captured," Milo answered. "They'll be placed in a holding cell and kept there until a proper punishment can be thought of."

"Not all of them were captured though?" Merry asked.

"I'm afraid not," Milo sighed. "There's currently a scouting party but it looks dismal that they will be caught. At least the leader has been captured though."

"Yes, I suppose," Merry groaned, feeling lightheaded. "Perhaps I should lay down for a bit. I do not feel well."

The dizziness grew, causing the world around him to spin, making a growing darkness sweep over his eyes. He heard drowning words from Milo and Sam, stumbled, and fell to the ground, allowing the gloom take over.

Merry woke to a sharp pain coursing through his side. He glanced around, trying to find the source of the jerky movements. To his amazement, he was on a pony with a firm chest hard against his back. Turning his head, he saw Sam smiling down at him. Another pony was riding alongside them containing Milo's figure.

"Glad to see you awake," Sam chirped. "I suppose you'll want to know where you are?" Merry nodded. "We've passed the Shire borders and are now heading toward Crickhollow. It will be no more then a day until we reach the destination."

"Why did we leave the inn though?" Merry asked, coughing.

A grim look came over Sam. "Because you are becoming worse and I do not know how much longer you have to live. Every hour, minute, and second is precious. We have to keep riding or we won't get there in time."

Milo pulled up beside the two, his eyes red and cheeks stained from trails of tears. "You could have told me before, you know. I am your friend after all."

"I apologize Milo," Merry murmured, "but I did not have the strength to discuss such matters at the time. I suppose it's better that Sam informed you anyway. The whole issue humiliates me so much. Please understand?"

Milo snorted, using his sleeve to rub at his eyes. "Of course I understand, old friend."

"Are you certain you want to journey back to Crickhollow?" Merry joked. "There's a possibility you could run into Penelope again."

Milo shrugged. "If I meet up with her, I'll do the same as last time: run."

Sam shook his head. "Disgraceful Master Milo. Disgraceful."

"Believe me, Sam, that if you saw her face you would run too," Milo laughed.

The rest of the journey was silent, allowing Merry to fully appreciate the landscape around him. It had been so long since he had laid eyes on the beauty of the Shire. The sight made the homesickness vanish and a slight feeling of peace entered his mind. He was almost home. The thought sent joy surging through him. He would see his son

The day drew on, leisurely growing dim with the setting sun. The three travelers had entered a pathway and were slowly approaching the homes of Crickhollow. Anxiousness swept over Merry. The land had grown familiar and he knew the Smallburrow's house was not far ahead.

"Easy Merry, you're shifting in the saddle too much," Sam warned. "I don't want you falling out and giving yourself more injuries. I doubt you could sustain much more."

The hobbit hole came into plain view. Smoke was streaming from the chimney and a warm, orange glowed through one of the windows, while two figures could be seen tending to the garden. Merry struggled against Sam's hold and, against the other's protests, jumped down to break in a sprint toward the dwelling. Both heads shot up at the sight of the oncoming hobbit. One of them dropped the rack and stepped forward, shielding the smaller one.

"Who are you?" Nad called out. "What do you want?" His jaw gapped open when Merry slowed and stepped out of the growing shadows. "Merry Brandybuck? Is that really you?"

"None other," Merry answered, chuckling cheerfully. "How good it is to see your face!"

"And yours as well!" Nad cried, embracing the hobbit tightly. "My goodness, is that Samwise Gamgee and....Milo Bulge? Greetings to you two as well. It's been too long." He turned back to Merry. "I'm glad you made it here safely, just as King Elessar promised. My wife will be overjoyed with this news." He motioned to the figure behind. "I believe there is someone here who wants to meet you, Pippin. Please step forward and say hello to your father."

The young hobbit moved forward, eliciting a gasp from Merry. The boy was handsome, containing features that resembled Estella and even his lost cousin. Tears began to weld in Merry's eyes. Bright, hazel eyes gazed up at him with uncertainty. He nearly keeled over from the look the boy was giving him. The hobbit lowered his head, clear droplets dribbling down the side of his face and splattering to the ground.

"Father," Pippin murmured.

Merry's head jerked up when he felt a warm body press against him, drawing him into a delicate embrace. Heavy sobs grew in Merry's chest and he clutched the boy, burying his face in the other hobbit's shoulder. At long last, he was home and in the arms of his beloved son.

More to follow.