Epilogue
The leaves sprinkled us with dew as we rode slowly under the trees. Your arms were around me, keeping the cold of early morning at bay. But the wind whistled softly, and where it touched my cheeks where tears had trailed, it was freezing.
Up the Hill, Daffodil's sturdy feet clip-clopping wetly on the moist grass. We stopped and stared beyond the Hedge, beyond the Old Forest, eastward. The Sun was climbing up majestically, the sky a million shades of red and blue. I wondered if morning would look that glorious in Hobbiton, or indeed, as lovely, when seen without you.
"A new day, Merry," you whispered against my hair. A new day for you. For you and Bilbo, in Hobbiton. I choked back a sob.
A new day for me too. New and strange. Buckland would be totally foreign without you and the magic of your tales and the tender-teasing sparkle of your eyes and your rich, ringing laugh. Pony rides would be different. The river, summer swims and fishing jaunts, they would change.
I looked up and saw the sun flaring brightly in your eyes. You were smiling, your mouth half-open in joyful wonder. You looked so radiantly happy.
And it was solace enough.
~the end~