Hello to everyone! Well, I've decided to try my hand at fanfiction, and what better way to start then by writing about anything related to Lord of the Rings? Upon reaching my decision to do this, and then further concluding to write about hobbits (Merry and Estella, in general), I knew that it was going to be a difficult and challenging task -- but one I had to take! So, please, let me know what you think; all feedback, both negative and positive, is welcomed with open arms -- after all, how are you to grow and learn without a bit of criticism, and how are you to continue writing without encouragement and support? Thanks so much for your time; enjoy!

Disclaimer: Obviously, I own absolutely nothing except for my ideas. Which, in turn, I don't fully own -- it is, after all, based off of Tolkien's work, and where would I be without that?

-Chapter One-

Estella Bolger stood before the countless stands of ripe fruit and carefully handcrafted goods, a look of both approbation and shrewdness etched upon her fair face. Her gaze wandered towards a plump peach in particular, resting near the edge and a good distance from the rest, and she crept slowly into place besides the stand, hoping her appearance took on something along the lines of one waiting for something. The owner of the stand paid her little heed; instead he was intent upon attracting the attention of the paying customers.

Quick as a wink, when his back was turn, her cunning hand flicked outwards and stole the peach away from its companions, and with a smirk that she hoped wasn't large enough to give her away, the fruit disappeared from view amongst the folds in her dress. Casually moving away, she melted into the crowd of noisy, browsing hobbits, moving along down the street.

It was as she pulled the peach again from her pocket and raised it to her lips that a hand grasped her wrist from behind and spun her around. She shrieked in sudden shock; her own wide eyes met her brother's stormy ones. "Estella," he hissed, not relenting his pressure on her wrist that clutched the tender peach, and instead greatening it as she attempted to pull away. "I thought we talked about this."

Estella's only response was a feigned whimper as she strived to free herself from Fatty's grasp. Hobbits all around made no effort to hide their stares as they strolled by, though both Fatty and Estella ignored it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Estella responded through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed firmly as they bore straight back into her brother's. Fatty merely shook his head at his sister's false claim.

"What would Mother say?" He demanded, and when Estella didn't answer, he gave a loud sigh, beginning to pull her back towards the fruit stand.

"Where are we going?" she inquired irately, doing her best to dig her heels into the dusty road or to loose herself amongst the throng. Fatty didn't answer, nor did he appear fazed by Estella's valiant, yet futile, struggles.

Fatty dragged Estella right back to the stand, where he firmly planted her in front of it. He let go of Estella's wrist and she withdrew sharply; Fatty said nothing, but simply extended a hand in silent request. Grumbling beneath her breath, Estella dropped the peach obediently in his palm, and he turned back towards the stand where the hobbit behind it was giving the two odd stares.

"This is yours, I believe," Fatty told him, and when the owner hesitated to reclaim it, Fatty merely dropped it amid the others. Offering no further explanation, he stomped back over towards Estella, but instead of grabbing a hold of her arm once more, he wrapped his arm firmly about her diminutive shoulders, leading her away.

"Don't you do that again," he hissed to her, once they were out of sight. "Or I shall have to tell Mother and Father."

Estella fumed at his threat, but didn't give him the pleasure of responding.

"I'm serious, Estella," Fatty insisted. "That's the second time this week. We have money, you know." He emphasized the word 'money', as if she were a small child that needed everything explained slowly and with care. "You don't have to steal."

Estella almost retorted at that, but held her tongue. She had learned that with Fatty, the more you said, the longer he talked. Stay quiet and he would be done soon. Besides, she thought bitterly; it wasn't the issue of money, not at all. It was the satisfaction and thrill of getting away with something, of doing something daring and against the rules.

Estella never did anything 'daring' or 'against the rules' at home, not at all. There, she was required to do chores and knit for endless hours while expected to keep up a steady chat about the most tedious and dull topics anyone could possibly dream up. Her mother made sure she learned to prepare meals, while standing behind her and breathing down her neck, making sure everything was perfect. Now and then she had to watch her younger cousins and keep them from trouble, which was a head pounding task if Estella ever knew one. If ever she complained, about anything at all, she was given even more chores to pass her time.

"One day, you will have a family of your own," her mother justified to her. "One day, you shall have to take care of your husband and your little ones. You might as well learn now." It didn't matter to her mother that Estella had barely lived twelve summers; the sooner she began to learn, the better.

Estella hated it. Her brother was given free reign; he wandered around with his grating friends, never lifting a finger inside the house. He worked outside, in the fields; something Estella envied him awfully for. She would rather work outside amongst the fresh air and copious life than inside, slaving over a hot stove or attempting to make the neatest, tiniest stitches.

Her only escape was town. She had reasoned to her mother that now and then she wished to go into town and pick up ingredients for supper; and still, her mother debated letting her go along. Much to her delight, however, Fatty had come though and suggested he be allowed to keep an eye on her, and plus, he rationalized that he needed some extra help carrying things home. She loved her brother dearly for the short amount of freedom he granted her, even he did reprimand her constantly, it seemed. She didn't mind it so much, especially since he kept it from their parents. As for his threat about telling next time she stole, well, he had also made the same threat the last few times. She wasn't worried.

"I'm going to go finish my errands," Fatty told Estella then, bringing her back to the present. "Go finish picking up supplies for dinner. I trust you still have money, since you obviously haven't *bought* anything," he said dryly. Estella smiled faintly and nodded as Fatty released her from his side, and she scurried off down the road.

"Keep out of trouble now, I'm serious!" Fatty shouted after her, but the cry was in vain, for in the midst of the noise of the rest of the crowd, it was inaudible to Estella's young ears.

Estella decided that getting chastised once was enough for her, and went about buying her ingredients. Spices, herbs, meats, vegetables; she bought all these and more. She wasn't sure what she intended to make for supper, but she was sure she could make something worthwhile with those elements. Deciding that that was enough for one trip and figuring she had a few hours before Fatty was ready to go, she decided to make the most of it. Wandering a little ways out of town, she stow her basket in a bush, making sure it was perfectly concealed before selecting a carrot (paid for, in full, she thought with an amused smile) to munch on as she hastened towards the river.

She was sure that some hobbits would be there on a day like this. It wasn't horribly warm, nor was it chilly, just a perfect, in-between temperature. A few scrawny clouds lined the pale blue sky, and the sun's rays felt pleasant and comfortable upon Estella's skin. She rambled along idly, thoughts lost in the clouds, doing nothing more than enjoying the day.

Gurgling water and the shouts and laughter of other hobbits met her ears in no time, and she quickened her pace. The trees along the side of the road grew thicker near the bank of the river, and she left the dusty road, enjoying the springy grass beneath her feet as she padded towards the inviting sounds of play. Hobbits younger, older, and around her age were gathered in clumps, splashing joyfully in the shallows of the river and shrieking in delight. Estella crept into the dim shade offered by the lofty trees, peering around at each hobbit in turn, searching for someone she knew.

"Estella!" A cry reached her ears, and she scrambled around in delight, looking for the source. Her friend, Lily, sat concealed from the sun at the base of a large oak, skirts arranged delicately around her legs, looking just as pretty and petite as ever. She was clean, her clothing free of dirt and other unrecognizable substances, much in contrast to Estella. How her friend managed to stay completely clean while seated on the ground while Estella had trouble staying blemish-free just by walking out the door, Estella would never know.

Now, with a wide and welcoming smile, Estella hurried to her friend, seating herself next to her. Lily's mouth puckered into a dainty frown as she eyed Estella's stained clothing, but she made no comment. Instead, she launched into conversation. "What are you doing here, Stella? Not that I'm not pleased to see you, mind; just curious."

"Fatty's in town picking up supplies or something," Estella explained. "I convinced Mother to let me go along to do errands of my own; I just hurried along with them and came out here when finished. There's nothing else to do while I wait for Fatty to be done with his tasks, anyway." She idly traced designs in the dust with her finger, eyeing the others splashing in the water out of the corner of her eye. She had spotted Lily's younger brothers, and guessed at Lily's reason for being present. "Have you volunteered to take your brothers to play in the water?"

Lily made a face, brushing a stray tendril of her dark hair from her face. "No, I didn't volunteer. Mother made me," she sighed, and then quickly reached out and snatched Estella's hand from the path it had been tracing on the ground. Brow furrowing, she brought it close to her face, examining her nails. Estella squirmed, biting her lower lip.

"How do you manage to get so much filth beneath your nails, Estella?" Lily demanded, wrinkling her nose in disgust before releasing Estella's arm. Estella brought her hand to her own face. They weren't that bad, she thought darkly, although she knew her mother would say the exact same thing when she returned home. Instead of disagreeing, Estella changed the subject.

"Let's go dip our feet in the water, Lily," she suggested. In truth, she wanted to be closer to the splashing match going on between some of the other hobbits, but knew she couldn't get Lily to go with her by using that notion.

"I'm perfectly comfortable here, thank you," Lily said curtly, smoothing her skirts on her legs.

"Don't be so dreary, Lily," Estella commanded at once, and Lily eyed her forebodingly. Estella sighed. "Fine," she snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "You can stay here, but I'm going."

Estella trotted towards the water's edge, before carefully inching her way into it, hiking her skirt up as she went. It was cold, and she felt a gentle tug as it rushed over her feet and around her legs. Reminding herself not to stray too deep, she waded over towards Lily's brothers, Wilcome and Anson. Wilcome was only a year younger than Estella (four years younger than his older sister), but Anson was a year older than her. They paused in their roughhousing as Estella made her way over.

"Hullo Estella," Wilcome said, bounding to his feet to greet her, water dripping off him at his every movement. Anson had had him on his back in the water, and had been tickling him mercilessly, only to cease in his actions as Estella drew near. He, however, remained seated in the water, gazing up at her. Estella ignored Anson; she had never liked him anyway, for he had always picked on her to no end. She remembered a time when they were younger that he had persuaded her that by putting a coat of sticky honey in her curls, it would soften them and make them shine and bounce with every movement she made. In truth, it had created one large mess, and not only had Estella been in serious trouble despite her claims that it was Anson's fault, but her hair was sticky for weeks after, no matter how much she scrubbed at it. Anson still occasionally looked back on that event with laughter; Estella with great anger.

 "What are you doing?" Estella asked in greeting towards Wilcome, as though she had no idea.

"Just playin'," Wilcome said, beaming at her. "Lily was nice 'nough to bring us down here, though she won't so much as get her feet wet!"

"Yes, I noticed," Estella said dryly. She shifted her hand, pulling her dress up further; she would hate to get it too wet, for it would certainly cause wrinkles, and not only would she get a stern lecture from her mother, but she would also be forced to straighten it to perfection.

"Don't want to get wet?" Anson asked then, noticing her actions. Estella smiled forcedly at him.

"Not too wet," she informed him. "I don't want Mother to get angry."

"You're bound to get wet near a river," Anson drawled, rolling his eyes briefly into the back of his head, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He stood then, stepping closer to Estella, a smirk forming about his mouth.

"Not if I'm careful," Estella said slowly. "Besides, a little water won't hurt, I just don't want to--" Her words turned into a sudden shriek as Anson, without warning, reached out and shoved her shoulders; not roughly, but hard enough to cause her to stumble backwards and loose her footing on the slippery stones beneath her feet. She felt the cool water rush up her sides as she suddenly found herself submerged in it, ice cold and shivering relentlessly.

"Anson!" she heard both Wilcome and Lily shout; Wilcome, right next to her, and Lily at a distance. She vaguely heard Anson laughing, and felt anger flutter in her chest. Wilcome pulled her to her feet, nervously eyeing Estella's dripping dress and curls as though she blamed him for his brother's actions. He helped her over towards where Lily stood waiting on shore, hopping from one foot to the next anxiously.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Estella," she burst out as soon as Wilcome handed her over. "I don't know what's the matter with my sorry excuse for a brother! O, drat, I knew I should have brought a cloak, but I didn't think I'd need it..." her rambling continued, but Estella found she no longer heard it. Anger made her head buzz, and turning her head sharply to find Anson, she saw him, still knee-deep in the river, laughing ceaselessly as Wilcome stomped back towards him, glaring all the way. Estella grit her teeth in fury, and tore her arm away from Lily's. She tread towards him, back out into the river, ignoring Lily's distressed protests.

"Did you see the look on her face?" Anson was asking his brother gleefully, looking thoroughly delighted with himself. Estella, toiling greatly to move in her wet clothes, held a finger to her lips for Wilcome to see as she approached Anson, who, caught up in his supposed brilliance, hadn't heard nor noticed her advance behind him. Reaching out as soon as she was near enough, she shoved him with as much strength as she could muster. He pitched face forward with a loud gasp, before falling face-first into the water, coming up quickly sputtering and spitting water, shaking his soaking curls form his eyes while it was Wilcome's turn to burst into laughter. Not waiting to see any further reaction, Estella turned and fled, back towards shore; she grabbed Lily's arm and dragged her off, taking no notice of her objections. Wilcome's laughter and Anson's angered and incoherent mutterings echoed in her head, only causing her to laugh harder than she had in a long time, despite her dripping clothes and freezing state.

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Okay, I just wanted to introduce Estella in that chapter. I'd like to know what you think, so leave me a review if you have time please! Thanks so much! -Kathy