Okay, so I lied. This chapter took even LONGER than the last one. Go sue my teachers that give me too much work to do. Ü I apologize, and THANKS SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed! Chocolate kisses all around!

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Though I needled Fred for days after Garnet's wedding, he would not say another word regarding Merry's mysterious faults. He knew me far too well; he was fully aware that my curiosity would plant enough doubt in my mind that he wouldn't NEED to say another word.

Realizing quickly that I had gotten all I was going to get out of Fred, I gave up on trying. He did not seem angry with me; but on the other hand, I myself displayed none of my considerable internal frustration, so his appearance was not a good indication of whether or not he was actually upset. In any case, we managed to neatly avoid the subject altogether for a full month, while the particular Brandybuck in question was sent on some errand of his father's. I was both grateful and a little disappointed; I wanted to ask Merry about Fred's unexpected warning, but I was afraid of his answer. I trusted Fred. He would never condemn someone without good reason, and he certainly would not lie to me. Which had to mean that Merry was hiding something, and whether it was because he didn't trust me or because he had even less wholesome motives, I wasn't happy about it.

As if to mock my black mood, the weather was absolutely glorious. It was only late spring, yet the sun shone in fine summer fashion, the sky was a brilliant azure, and fields of wildflowers, delighted with the sudden warmth, sprang up almost overnight. While I did my best to obscure the sun with a dark scowl, the rest of the household was, predictably, overjoyed.

"Stella, you MUST come on a ride with me today," sang Tulip one gorgeous morning at breakfast.

Abandoning my toast, I turned slowly in my chair and fixed her with a long, wordless stare.

Her laugh was as bubbly as the brook in the back meadow. "You've been surly all week. A nice long ride will do you good."

I tried my very best to freeze Tulip's cheerful brook with my icy gaze. Unfortunately, my efforts were in vain - and Tulip was not backing down.

"I don't care WHAT look you give me," she said, hauling on my arm. "You're coming."

"Why is it," I grumbled, "that every time you insist I do something, something bad happens?"

Tulip gave an exaggerated shrug. "Don't ask me. You're the one who attracts trouble."

With a gasp of mock indignation, I let her pull me to my feet. "Well, then, I'll show you."

"I don't know," Tulip replied with a wry smile. "I don't think you can spend more than an hour outside without getting into some sort of scrape or argument with someone."

I stuck my nose in the air. "And since when does your humble opinion count for anything?"

"Since the day I was born. Let's go." She trotted toward the hallway, beckoning for me to follow. I rolled my eyes and did so.

Fifteen minutes later, both of us were whooping with delight, galloping across the meadow astride two stubby ponies who were considerably distressed by the unexpected exertion. They were blowing hard by the time we slowed them to a walk, entering the outskirts of the woods. Tulip was still giggling with elation from our headlong rush across the field, and I was grinning as well.

"I told you it would make you feel better," Tulip managed to get out, once her hiccups of giddy laughter had subsided.

"Well, yes, considering the fact that I won the race."

Tulip sneered at me. "I let you win."

I sneered back. "Of course you did."

"I was right though. You're more cheerful now."

"So you were right this time," I conceded. "Don't get used to it."

She flashed me a grin. "So now are you going to tell me what's been eating away at you?"

All traces of amusement vanished from my face. "Oh...it's nothing." Tulip raised a skeptical eyebrow and I sighed. "I don't know. Fred's just been acting...strangely lately."

Her brow furrowed. "You know, you're right," she said slowly. "I've noticed it too. Do you know what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "No," I lied. "But last week we got in an argument. I'm a little worried."

The look on Tulip's face was of genuine surprise. "You two fought?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"I had no idea. No wonder you've been upset - you two NEVER fight."

I pursed my lips. "I know. That's the problem: I'm not sure what's going on."

"He won't tell you?" Concern was clear in Tulip's voice.

I shrugged and replied, "Not really."

Tulip peered at me closely. "Now I know you're upset. You've been using gestures instead of words for the past five minutes."

I started to shrug, then caught myself, giving a short laugh. "It's not a huge issue." I drew in a deep breath just as my mount's ears, which had previously been drooping in exaggerated fatigue, perked up. Tulip's pony quickened his gait and my own pulled against the bit.

"Hullo," commented Tulip, speaking directly to her mount. "What happened to the I'm-so-exhausted-I'm-about-to-collapse act? Slow down. We're not going to the river." The pony snorted in protest as Tulip guided him to the left.

My mare, whose mouth was about as sensitive as a rock, ignored my hold on the reins and broke into a trot towards the unmistakable sound of rushing water directly ahead of us.

"She's not going to pay attention to me," I called over my shoulder to Tulip, whose gelding was straining at the bit but remaining on the path. "You'd better come along."

Tulip sighed and eased up on her pony's reins. He leaped forward, all traces of former weariness gone, to catch up to my own mount. Soon both of them were up to their knees in flowing water, thoroughly pleased with themselves.

Tulip glanced at me. "Well, it's a beautiful spot, anyway."

I had to admit it was. The river's - or, more accurately, the large stream's - banks sloped gently up toward the trees beyond, covered with a generous carpet of thick grass. The sun filtered through the leaves above, dappling the ground with patterns of green and gold.

I tugged on my mare's reins. "Come on, girl, out." She ignored me, dribbling her muzzle in the water as it coursed between her front legs. Sighing, I dismounted with a splash and hauled on her bridle. She followed me amiably ("Now, why couldn't you do that when I was nice and dry up in the saddle?") up to the bank and I secured the reins to a sturdy tree branch. Tulip did the same with her gelding, and the two of us flopped down on the soft grass.

We both lay there for a few minutes, staring silently up at the blue sky, until Tulip abruptly asked me if I had, by any chance, heard that Berilac Goodbody had asked for Myrtle Burrows' hand in marriage, and that Myrtle had turned him down. My gasp of surprise was all the initiative she needed to launch into a detailed and decidedly juicy account of the entire tale, and it was not long before both of us were thoroughly wrapped up in what should have been the private affairs of half of Bucklebury. It was delightful.

We were both startled, therefore, when a sudden shrill whinny jolted us back to the present. Turning, we saw my mare looking on in bemusement as Tulip's gelding half-reared, ears laid back and eyes rolling in terror. Tulip also rolled her eyes, but in exasperation.

"He's gone and spooked again," she muttered. "I swear, that animal...he sees a twig and thinks to himself, 'Oh no, look, it's a SCARY stick! It's going to bite me! Panic! Run away!' ...Honestly."

She approached the pony's side, making various soothing noises and reaching for his bridle. He violently snapped his head away, straining to break his reins that were still tied firmly to the branch. And since the reins were admittedly of rather poor quality, they tore almost immediately. Tulip did not even have time to grab for a trailing end before both bridle and pony were crashing away into the trees.

Tulip turned to me, and I just barely managed to stifle a giggle at her pathetic expression. "I suppose I'd better go and get him," she said, resignation in her tone.

I got to my feet. "I'll come."

She shook her head wearily. "No, you'd better stay." She jerked her head at my pony, who was now happily chomping on her bit. "She'll probably strangle herself if we leave her alone, and we can't both ride her."

"I can ride and you can walk," I suggested helpfully.

"Just let me go alone. I'll be back soon," Tulip said, grimacing.

I shrugged. "Fine. Remember, it was your choice."

She waved me off and disappeared into the trees. I lay back down with a sigh. It was not the first time Tulip had had to track down and retrieve her remarkably nervous gelding, and I wondered idly why she kept him. It had to be simple attachment. I certainly wouldn't put up with him for as long as Tulip had. On the other hand, I put up with a hard-mouthed, stubborn, and rather stupid - though good-natured - mare, something Tulip would probably never endure.

My rambling and altogether pointless musings were interrupted by the sound of hoof beats. Was Tulip back already? I sat up in time to see a pony and rider appear on the opposite side of the creek, but it was not Tulip and her neurotic gelding. As the mounted figure raised a hand in greeting and called out a cheery, "Well, hullo there, Miss Estella!" I realized, with a mixture of horror and some other positive emotion I could not name, that it was Merry Brandybuck himself.

I leaped to my feet, brushing stray twigs and leaves from my hair. "Master Brandybuck!" I called back. "I thought you were still in Hobbiton!"

Merry laughed as he guided his pony a short distance downstream to a shallow ford. "My business there finished early, I'm happy to say. The road was dusty and rather crowded, so I decided to cut through the forest here for some solitude. You seem to have ruined my plans." He dismounted and looped his reins over the same branch my mare's were.

"Yes. Well," I stammered, uncomfortable and unsure of how to act. Now that I was face to face with Merry once again, all my convictions that Fred was right in calling him some sort of villain were quickly evaporating.

His eyes twinkled. "You really should start interacting with other hobbits, Stella. This is the third time I've found you all by yourself, as far away from everyone else as you can get."

I blushed and studied a particularly fascinating beetle crawling by my feet. "Well, I'm really here with Tulip, only her pony got loose. She's looking for him now. She'll be back. I spend lots of time with her." This somehow seemed to me to be a satisfactory reply.

Merry's hand touched my chin, turning my face back toward him. Startled, I flinched away. "What?"

"Is something wrong?" He peered at me with concern in his dark eyes.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I replied, a little too quickly, and then added hurriedly, "No, there isn't."

Merry said nothing but raised his eyebrows. I raised mine right back. "What?" I repeated.

"I'm not even going to try," he said, shaking his head with what looked like a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Last time I got a tongue- lashing I'd not like to repeat."

I blushed again. "I already said I was sorry."

"I know," he answered. "I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying I'm not going to try to get you to talk."

I shrugged. A heavy silence fell that somehow seemed to muffle the splashing of the stream.

"Look, do you want to be left alone?" Merry asked suddenly. "Because I'll leave, I'm sorry if I - "

"No! No," I interrupted. "Nothing like that." I forced a laugh. "I've just been a little out of sorts lately. Please, sit down," I added, taking a seat myself and indicating the grass. "It's not the most dignified of chairs, but it's comfortable."

His expression was of relief. "Why, thank you, I shall." He settled himself down on the ground and peered at the sky. "It's glorious."

"Yes, it is. Tulip convinced me to go for a ride today, and we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves until her stupid gelding spooked and bolted off."

He grinned, then passed a hand across his forehead. "It's a bit warm, though," he commented. He glanced at the stream, then at me. "That pool there would make a fine swimming hole."

I made a face. "No thank you, Master Brandy-Mad-Buck. I like to keep my feet on solid ground."

"At least come and put your feet in. It feels wonderful on your toes."

I rolled my eyes but followed him as he got up and trotted upstream to the base of a large willow. Its roots secured a section of bank that dropped off into a wide, calm pool. Merry plopped himself down on the knobbly roots and slipped his feet into the water with his eyes closed and a sigh of contentment. Opening his eyes, he glanced at me as I stood, hesitant, a few feet from the edge. "Come on," he urged. "It's nice and cool."

I forced a laugh, trying to keep my voice light. "Actually, I'm fine."

Merry scrambled to his feet. "No you don't. Come on then, just put your feet in."

I backed up a pace. "No, thank you. I'd rather not."

"Don't be such a baby," he teased. "Water on your feet is a long way from swimming."

I twisted my face into a smile, feigning nonchalance. "At least I don't act like a baby all the time, unlike certain hobbits I could name."

He laughed. "Come on," he repeated, giving me a playful shove.

With my tense posture, I was unprepared for even the slight push. I stumbled back a step - and slipped on a loose stone among the roots. With a shriek and a splash, I tumbled into the dark water of the hole.

As water closed above my head, my first thought was of absolute panic. Flailing my arms, I managed to break the surface long enough to scream before disappearing beneath the water again. I gasped in terror and inhaled a mouthful of water; convinced that I was going to drown, I suddenly felt a strong hand grip my arm and haul me into the bright sunshine once again.

I coughed and hacked and gasped, clinging to Merry's wet sleeve. I was sobbing and choking at the same time, while Merry was talking a mile a minute. "Stella, I had no idea - I'm so sorry - the water's shallow enough to stand, you silly - but you didn't know that - I'm so sorry - "

He half-guided, half-carried me to the bank and helped me climb up onto the grass. I lay there, hiccuping, fighting for control of my sobs. When I was finally able to speak, I managed a weak smile at Merry. "I'm sorry."

"YOU'RE sorry?" he asked incredulously. "For goodness' sake, lass, I'm the one that pushed you in, even accidentally!"

"I must have given you a scare."

He nodded fervently. "You did that. Why didn't you just stand up?"

"I didn't know it was that shallow. I panicked."

He fixed me with a curious stare. "Why does water scare you so much?" He was surprised as my eyes filled with tears again. "You don't have to tell me," he said hurriedly.

I shook my head. "No, it's all right. I thought you knew. I thought you were there..."

"Where?" he asked, obviously confused.

"That's right, you weren't. We were in Tuckborough - some sort of family gathering. There was a lake..." I paused, trying to recall the details. "It was so long ago. I was only nine. Practically a baby. There was a lake, I think. We were all playing on the beach, all of my cousins and I, with some of our parents within earshot. And there was an old rowboat, dragged up onto the sand. Garnet was there; she said I was too afraid to go out on the water in the boat. I said I wasn't, so she told me to prove it. I would only do it if she'd come along, so we both pushed the boat out onto the water and climbed in. We paddled out where the water was well over our heads, and then Garnet stood up and started waving at everyone still onshore." I paused and shivered, remembering. "I yelled at her to sit down. She told me I was a baby and began rocking the boat side to side, more and more. I kept yelling at her, and soon most everyone on the beach was yelling at her to stop too, but she just laughed and rolled the rowboat more. And then...then she lost her balance and the whole thing capsized. Neither of us could swim. Garnet managed to keep a solid hold on the boat, but I lost my grip and started to go under. I screamed, and Garnet screamed, and all my cousins on the shore screamed, and within seconds my father had burst out of the trees surrounding the lake and was charging out to us. He couldn't swim himself, but he flailed his way out to me and pushed me far enough to cling to the boat. But he wasn't able to get that far himself. I tried to grab him...but he was gone. The lake took him." I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and tucked my knees up to my chin. "That's why I'm afraid of the water."

Merry stared at me silently, then slowly put his arm around my shoulders. I buried my face in his shoulder as tears pricked at my eyes again, and for a full minute I sat motionless, fighting to regain control of my emotions, and then pulled away, wiping at my eyes. "Thank you," I said quietly. "I appreciate it."

When he didn't answer, I glanced up at him questioningly, only to see him gazing at me with an expression I could not name. It was a mixture of, among other things, sorrow, and pity, and respect, and gentle amusement and - was it affection? I was confused for a moment, until Merry slowly reached out, cupped my cheek in his hand, and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

I melted for a split second - then roughly shoved him away. "You - you brute!" I cried. "Fred was right! You ARE a monster! You just couldn't stand it, could you?"

"What?" exclaimed Merry. "What are you talking about?"

I shot him a look of utter scorn. "Don't play dumb with me, Master Brandybuck. I'll spell it out for you, to remind you. You just couldn't stand the fact that there was a lass in the Shire who didn't throw herself at you. I suppose it was just too big a blow to your puffed up ego. So you push me into a water hole, knowing it would terrify me, and then try to seduce me while I'm still traumatized! Really, I thought the Brandybuck name had more value than that!"

Merry's face flushed with anger. "What? I had no intention of seducing you! How dare you insult me so lightly?"

I snorted derisively. "Of course, deny it now that I've rejected you."

"Yes, I DO deny it!" he cried, eyes narrowing. "I have no intention other than to court you, Miss Bolger, though I'm having second thoughts now - perhaps I should leave a short-tempered, rude lass well enough alone!"

"Excuse me?" I shot back. "I am not the one who takes advantage of others' fears and weaknesses."

"Neither am I. You, however, are a disrespectful hussy who, instead of being ashamed of herself, tries to shift all blame, real or not, onto others!"

I gasped in indignation. "Must you deny everything that you bear responsibility for?"

"I deny everything I do NOT bear responsibility for. I do NOT bear responsibility for your fevered fantasies and imagined motives. I do NOT bear responsibility for your refusal to listen to me. In short, I bear responsibility for nothing besides that one kiss. Which, I might add, I take back. And now, Miss Bolger, I bid you good day!" He whirled and practically tore his pony's reins off the branch.

"You - I - you can't take back a kiss!" I yelled at him, utterly flustered, as he mounted and wheeled the mare.

"Oh, can't I?" he returned, his voice dangerously low and challenge glinting in his eyes.

I stared back at him, and in my effort to remain expressionless bit my lip so hard it bled. Merry shot me one last scornful glance before giving his mount a dig in the ribs with his heels and disappearing among the tree trunks.

As soon as he was out of sight, I collapsed on the ground, sobbing. Everything had gone wrong. I was devastated; Fred had been right. Merry was self-serving, self-centered, and - oh, who was I fooling? Something had gone wrong, not with Merry, but with me. I'd been so surprised and so taken aback that I'd managed to drive off the hobbit I least wanted to offend.

I caught myself. The hobbit I least wanted to offend? I gave a short bark of laughter. Yes. Ironic, wasn't it? I only realized that I loved a hobbit after I had insulted and rejected him. Fine way to gain admirers. Garnet had been right: marriage was never something I would have to concern myself with; I'd never get that far.

I'd lost Merry before I even knew I needed him.
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Ick. Cheesy. I needed to get that chapter over with. Now it's done! Now we can move on to more interesting plot developments!! (Everyone looks at each other. "Plot? What plot?") ANYWAY.please press that fascinating little button right there on the bottom left. The 'review' one. Well, if you want. Thank you! ::passes out more chocolate kisses::