I finished this chapter! ::wild cheering:: As unbelievable as it may sound, it DID take me this long, since I do the majority of my writing in class (tune out my boring History lecture Ü) and lately school has been quite busy and what tune-out time I can get has been used mostly for snatches of nap (Ü), it's been hard to buckle down and get this on paper. On the up side, I've got lots of ideas for upcoming chapters.heheh ::rubs hand together gleefully::

Oh, and thank you SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed; it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy - plus it keeps me going with new chapters! The gift that keeps on giving! Ü

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Two weeks passed in lazy Shire-fashion. And after a slight blowup with Garnet (she was murderous when she found out her dress was ruined, but since she had poured the ale on it herself, there was little she could do about it besides gripe), it was fairly uneventful. But all too soon - or so it seemed to me - the Bolger-Burrows wedding was approaching, and our entire household was drawn into the preparations.

The meadow behind the house was trimmed, tables brought out, arrangements made and provisions ordered. The day of the big event dawned sunny and warm, and the afternoon found Tulip and me ransacking the entire house for one last missing white tablecloth; Aunt Pearl scurried in and out, nearly in a frenzy, directing anyone's and everyone's activities.

"I was SURE there was another one somewhere," she said to us for the umpteenth time as she bustled by. "Keep looking!" There was a hint of panic mixed with desperation in her voice.

Tulip looked at me. "She's been telling us that for the past hour," she pointed out. "There IS no other tablecloth. She's gone mad, what with trying to put this stupid wedding together almost single-handedly."

I rolled my eyes in agreement and replied, "Yes, but as long as she thinks we're actually accomplishing something, she won't give us anything new to work on."

"But we also run the risk of causing her a nervous breakdown," remarked Tulip. "If anything turns out less than perfect..."

"...She might explode," I finished.

Tulip was opening her mouth to reply when the front door suddenly swung open. "Tulip?" Celandine Brandybuck stuck her head inside and, catching sight of Tulip and me, exclaimed, "Oh, good, Stella! I don't know what our problem with keeping eggs is, but my mum was wondering if she could borrow a half-dozen or so - "

"No! No!" cried Aunt Pearl, running across the hall toward the kitchen. "Don't throw that honey out, it's perfectly good and we haven't enough as it is!" She caught sight of Celandine. "Oh, hello, dear - sorry, we're a bit disorganized today - yes, Lily, there's more sugar in that barrel in the corner - oh, what's the use! Hold on, I'm coming!"

Celandine watched my aunt disappear into the kitchen with an expression that was a mix of amusement, disbelief, and exasperation, and then turned back to me. "Is it just me, or is this perhaps not a good time?"

Tulip laughed in reply. "Aunt Pearl might tackle us if we tried to even set foot in that kitchen, if that's what you mean. And I definitely wouldn't recommend going in yourself."

Celandine gave a crooked smile. "What are the chances of me coming out alive?"

"None," I told her wryly, then exclaimed, "Oh! Do you think we could borrow a big white tablecloth? Maybe? It would really help OUR chances of survival."

"I don't know..." Celandine's eye twinkled. "I'm not sure I can let you live...seeing as you won't lend me any eggs..."

Tulip threw herself to her knees in front of Celandine, hands clasped in supplication. "Oh, Great Celandine, spare our lives! Bestow upon thy humble servants a royal tablecloth of thy household!"

Folding her arms, Celandine regarded Tulip - who was now prostrate on the floor - with an air of superiority. "In my bountiful mercy, I shall grant thy request. Thou shalt borrow a royal tablecloth. But remember thou this: thou shalt repay me."

"Anything for our great lady!" I cried, joining Tulip on the floor. "Thy generosity has no limit. What dost thou desire?"

Celandine paused, and in that split second of hesitation, her queenly air was gone, replaced by her ordinary good-natured manner. "I'll think of something," she said, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "If you come I can find one for you right now. Come on."

Tulip leaped to her feet and I followed suit, brushing dust off my skirt. "You'll have to smuggle us out," I told Celandine. "If Aunt Pearl sees us deserting, our lives will be forfeit, you understand."

With a nod and a grin, Celandine signaled her agreement. Tulip glanced toward the kitchen and, judging it safe, eased open the front door and gestured us through wordlessly. Within moments, all three of us were safely out of sight of the house and well on our way to Brandy Hall.

It was a relief to step into the calm of the main entryway; compared to the frenetic activity of our own household, the stillness and peace of the cozy smial was blissful. As if to illustrate the point, when Celandine ushered us into the sitting room off the main hall, Merry was stretched out on an easy chair, arms folded comfortably behind his head and a smoking pipe in his mouth.

"Don't you wish we lived here instead?" Tulip asked, turning to me.

I laughed in response. Merry looked up at us in surprise. "What do you mean?...and hello, by the way," he added as an afterthought.

Grinning, Tulip explained, "Our house is chaos. Garnet's wedding is this evening and we're all expected to pitch in and help."

"Ah, I see," said Merry, raising his eyebrows. "What a shame for you. But in the meantime, I shall remain here, resting peacefully, while you toil away to prepare a joyous occasion for a relative you greatly dislike. Enjoy yourselves."

Tulip and I glanced at each other, then simultaneously seized one of Merry's arms and hauled him to his feet. A rather violent struggle ensued, in which several feet were trod upon and Merry's pipe was lost, but by the time Celandine reappeared with an armful of linen, her cousin had both his arms pinned behind his back and a handful of his sleeve held tight in Tulip's fist.

Celandine blinked, but did not remark on the admittedly strange scene. "You can borrow these," she said instead, fighting hard to keep amusement out of her voice. "But mind you bring them back within a few days or someone is bound to notice they're gone."

"Of course, madam," Tulip agreed amiably. "Merry has courteously decided to come along. Merry, be a gentleman and take the tablecloths, please."

I released my hold on his arms - though I kept a grip on his sleeve - and he obediently accepted the bundle from his now-grinning cousin. Tulip and I saluted Celandine, and we then marched Merry out his front door all the way to our own - at which point all three of us were swooped down upon by Aunt Pearl and immediately put to work.

Merry appeared a bit surprised by this unexpected turn of events, but not at all resentful. In fact, he threw a grin and a quick "I suppose I'll see you a bit later on, then" before heading off to add to the bustle of activity surrounding the tables that were being set up. Recruited to the flower-arranging team, Tulip and I soon lost sight of him, but gave it little thought from then on.

The afternoon seemed to drag on, but eventually the sunset was drawing near and, with it, the wedding ceremony itself. The tables were set, the lanterns hung, the food prepared, and guests were trickling out to take their seats in the rows of chairs arranged under a large canopy.

I had just finished placing the various bouquets of flowers in their designated spots and was about to leave the pavilion when a cousin gave the signal that all was ready, and Garnet emerged from the house with a train of attendants.

She was decked out in full bridal regalia, from her heavily embroidered skirt and bodice to her crown of flowers, and she was beaming from ear to ear as various aunts and female cousins fussed over her, adjusting her dress and whispering pieces of advice. The sight made me feel suddenly sick to my stomach, and I slipped away from the canopied gathering just as Garnet made her grand entrance.

Wandering idly, I slowly made my way to the small brook that meandered through the far meadow. I silently watched it tumble over its bed, occasionally tossing pebbles in to hear the satisfying "bloop" they made when they hit the water. I was still sitting on the bank when a low voice interrupted my reverie.

"Once again, we find ourselves apart from the crowd."

I turned to see Merry approaching. Grinning, I shook my head. "Once again," I echoed. "We seem to be cursed."

"It's a curse I'll put up with," he replied, taking a seat beside me. "Besides, I wasn't invited to this particular event. But I'm sure you were. What's your excuse?"

I sighed. "I didn't think I could stand it."

A raised eyebrow indicated Merry's desire for elaboration; I went on, "She - Garnet's so...so nasty. But she's over there, looking and acting like it's the happiest day of her life, and everyone is fawning over her. It just doesn't seem fair. I mean, look at Fred, who's never said a hurtful thing on purpose in his life, and yet he cries himself to sleep almost every night."

Merry picked up a pebble and fingered it absently. "Sometimes life doesn't seem fair. Sometimes terrible things happen to those who least deserve it. But in the end, good wins out every time."

I looked at him skeptically, but he arched an eyebrow. "I've had more experience with evil than I hope you ever do," he reminded me ruefully.

I blushed. For a moment I'd forgotten whom I'd been speaking to. "I forgot. I'm sorry," I mumbled, staring at the ground.

He shrugged. "I don't mind. It's nice to have someone treat me like a normal hobbit for once."

I shot him a questioning glance. "I never would have thought that having everyone admire and respect you was less than desirable."

"It gets tiresome," Merry replied, with a facial expression that might have been a smile but was closer to a grimace. "Especially when you think - or even know - that it's not genuine. That they're either flattering you to get something, or laughing at you behind your back. That's not pleasant."

"Don't you believe that anyone is sincere? Some of us really do respect you."

He gave a short laugh. "Some of us?"

I blushed again, but replied, "Yes. Us. Including me."

Growing serious again, he said, "I believe you. And I value that."

"But why?" I asked. "I could be insincere too. How do you know I'm different from anyone else you don't believe?"

"Because you don't treat me like a fragile spiderweb or some object to be held in great awe. And you certainly weren't afraid to tell me off when you were angry; if that's not honesty nothing is. And you've changed a lot since you were last in Buckland, but not that much. You are many things, Estella Bolger, but you are not deceitful."

Blinking, I did not reply, for I was at a loss for words. A slightly awkward silence stretched out between us, broken only by the soft burbling of the stream.

A sudden burst of music startled us both, and various cheers erupted from the canopy across the meadow. "I'm assuming the ceremony's over," Merry commented, glancing at me.

I grinned, relieved. "Finally. Time for the banquet!"

"Race you!" Merry exclaimed, jumping up. I leaped to catch up with him, but he had a good head start and I was, after all, wearing a skirt, which was a decided disadvantage. Nevertheless, I had nearly drawn even with him by the time we slowed to approach the long buffet table. He gave me a final parting grin before being swallowed by the crowd, and I returned it just as my arm was seized.

Startled, I turned to face my brother. "Oh, hullo, Fred - " I broke off as I noticed his stormy expression. "What's wrong?"

"Where were you during the ceremony?" he demanded harshly.

I was alarmed by his tone, for Fred's anger was rarely aroused. "I was just up at the meadow..."

"With Merry?" he cut in. I was taken aback, but he went on sarcastically, "And I suppose you just talked, right?"

"Right," I replied, flustered and more than a little frustrated. "Fred, know what you're insinuating, but I assure you there's no reason - "

"Stella, I'm only warning you to keep you from getting hurt," Fred interrupted with exaggerated patience. "I don't trust Merry and you shouldn't either. You can insist that there's nothing between you, but remember that I warned you now. Don't say you didn't know."

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed, anger creeping into my voice. "Fred, we're friends. For goodness' sake, you two are friends! What is this about not trusting him?"

He shook his head ominously. "There's things about Merry that you don't know and I do. Don't let yourself get hurt. I don't want you to see him."

I gaped. "Fred!"

He held up his hands. "I'm not making you do anything. I'm just saying. Now let's go get some food."

He appeared to have dropped the subject, but throughout the banquet I was thoroughly preoccupied. What was he talking about? I had no doubt that he knew Merry better than I did, but he'd never shown signs of distrust before. And yet Fred was generally on good terms with everyone, and remained so unless something drastic occurred to change his opinion. Surely there must be some reason for his reaction. And what was he worried about anyway? It wasn't as if Merry was courting me. I scoffed at the very thought. We had talked a few times; we enjoyed each other's company. What harm could come of that? And yet I trusted Fred to tell me the truth. There must be something behind his warning. But what?

I was utterly confused.

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Tra-la-la! PLEASE keep R&Ring, and the next chapter will be up much sooner than this one was!!! Ü