Life went on as usual for Estella, albeit more awkwardly around her brother's friends. They were over to the Bolger home constantly... or so it seemed to Estella. She hadn't been able to face Merry since she'd had that dream, nor Pippin, or even Sam, for that matter. It was all just too embarrassing. Fatty invited her in enough, for sure, giving her meaningful glances when he thought his friends wouldn't notice. But she would shake her head silently, not even stepping through the doorway. She was sure to never, ever make eye contact with anyone besides Fredegar; she knew they actually had caught all his subtle gestures and winks. It was more than she could stand to be laughed at. Fredegar, however, was not laughing. He cornered her one evening after the party had made their farewell and began wandering vaguely homeward, still laughing and joking. Fatty laughed along with them from the doorway and waved until they were nearly out of sight. Then he very slowly closed the door, turning quietly to find his sister, anger and concern on his face.
She was in her room, reading. She didn't look surprised to see her brother in the doorway. She didn't even bother wondering why he looked so upset. "What," she said lazily, not even posing it as a question. Fatty sighed and dropped himself on the rug, closing the door behind him. "Estella... dear..." No, this wasn't working. He sounded more desperate than he wanted to. Frustrated, he burst out, "What is wrong with you? Do you have no manners?!" Estella looked at him, her face expressionless and even. "If I had no manners," she said calmly, "you would be running from my room with your tail between your legs." She went back to reading.
"That...is not... what... I... meant!" Fatty growled through gritted teeth. "Estella, why can't you be sociable? I can hardly believe that a silly dream you had weeks ago would stop you from talking to Merry- or anyone, for that matter. Then again," he mused, almost to himself, "you never did like them much, did you?" Estella shook her head vigorously, eyes never leaving her book. Fatty ranted on for some time, his sister barely listening to him. Finally, she interrupted him. "As you've probably noticed," she began, "I haven't really been paying attention to you blathering on about how I should show some respect for your friends. You forget that they are your friends and I am under no obligation to show them any kindness."
"You are, though!" Fatty cried, jumping up and beginning to pace in front of her window. Estella watched him from where she sat on the bed, an amused half-smile playing on her lips. A moment of silence passed, Fredegar pacing, Estella watching him, book laid aside. Fatty broke the peace with a punch of his fist into the air. "I have it!" he shouted, heedless of the late hour and open window. He went over to her bed and sat at her feet, taking one of her hands in his. "Stelly, I know what I'll do. You won't like it at first, but I promise you will enjoy it, should you let yourself." Estella winced inwardly. He only called her Stelly when he really wanted something. He hadn't held her hand in years. And his voice made him sound really, really pathetic.
She closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine, Fatty. For you." He beamed at her silently, approval and happiness written plainly in his kind brown eyes. "Now, what is it you want me to do?" His eyes suddenly shone and his grin broadened into a wide, malicious smile. "Come with me to the party at Brandy Hall next week."

Estella was paralyzed for a moment, then shrieked and pulled away from him. "A dance?! Fredegar Odovacar Bolger, you wouldn't dare!" "Oh, but wouldn't I," he said, smirking delightedly at her disgust. "It's formal, too. You'll need a nice dress, and some slippers, and new gloves, and you'll have to borrow some of mother's jewelry..." Estella looked at him in horror as he named each accessory she absolutely mustn't be caught dead without. Why was he enjoying this so much? "Everyone will be there," he said. "Sam will bring Rosie, and Frodo will come, and I think Pippin is going to take that Diamond lass, and of course, Merry—"Estella's face went suddenly stony. "No!" she said vehemently. "I will not be so much as seen in the same room with Meriadoc Brandybuck!" Fredegar's wretched grin crept back upon his face. "Oh yes, you will," he giggled. "And I will personally see to it you dance with him as well." She could only stare disbelievingly.

The next day, Estella went to town at dawn. The farmers had already set up their stands and the merchants were just starting to assemble theirs. She picked over some of Maggot's crops, constantly eyeing the weaver's stand. It was inevitable; she would have to go and ask for some cloth. After some time, she sighed and said her farewells to Lily Maggot, walking as slowly as she possibly could to the weaver's stand, heart sinking with every step.
"Estella?" a surprised voice asked from behind her. "Estella Bolger?" she cursed as she recognized the voice as Merry. Half a moment later, he was standing in front of her, smiling gleefully. "Little Stelly in town all by herself? And buying ribbons, no less." She threw the offending scraps of cotton onto the counter, startling the merchant awake from his nap.
"My name is not Stelly, Mister Brandybuck!" she said coldly. "And I will have you know that the only reason I am at this stand is because my back-stabbing brother tricked me—stop giggling, you overgrown infant— into going to your idiotic party next week." She spat the word 'party' like it was venom on her tongue. Merry's snickers escalated into snorts at her last proclamation. He stopped quickly at the look she was giving him.
"You mustn't take it like a death sentence, little Stelly. A bit of socializing never hurt anyone." She clenched her jaw but said nothing. Before she could stop him, he was pulling out a bolt of cloth and holding it in front of her. She stepped back, horrified.
"I am not wearing that!" she half-whispered. "It's...it's..." she couldn't finish her sentence. 'Pink' would have been a good adjective to use. Or 'frilly'. Or 'feminine'. But the last word she would have used was... "Gorgeous!" Merry declared. "It will look wonderful on you, Stelly!" "No, it won't, Master Brandybuck, because that...that... atrocity is not coming anywhere near me!" She ripped it unceremoniously from his hands and handed it back to the (very bewildered) storekeeper, who put it mutely back.

Merry, meanwhile, looked hurt. "Well, you must have something, you can't very well go in that." He said, gesturing pointedly to her worn brown dress and ragged green apron. She glanced at her attire and blushed deeply. Instead of looking back at him, though, she turned her attention to the storekeeper. "May I have a look at the cream muslin, please? And the green cotton, if you would." The merchant obliged and Estella saw Merry nod approvingly in the corner of the stand. She rolled her eyes, thanked the storekeeper, and fingered the cloth. As far as she could see, it was serviceable, so she asked for five lengths of the muslin and four of the cotton and reached for the pouch with her coins in it. Before she could drop them on the counter, however, Merry was beside her, calmly paying for the cloth and swinging her now-full basket of the counter. The merchant took the payment without batting an eye. Estella tried to grab at the basket and the coins at once, failing at both. "Meriadoc! I can pay for my own goods!" "don't worry about it, Estella," he said with a small smile. "It's nothing." Once again she turned to the shopkeeper, who was currently counting Merry's coins, much to her distress. "No...don't... he's not..." Apparently, sorting coins is much more interesting business than listening to the feeble protests of a young hobbit lass, for the merchant paid no heed. He finished counting, scooped the coins into his hands and bid them good day with a wide smile.

Defeated, Estella turned to Merry. What in the world...?What is he doing with his elbow- oh no. No. No no no...Sure enough, Merry was offering her his arm, the basket swinging idly from his other, grinning crookedly. Estella looked at him. Looked at his offered arm. Looked back at him. And as pointedly as she could manage without speaking, she crossed her arms, tilted her nose to the sky and walked away. Merry would have to do a lot more than just buy her cloth if he wanted to be seen in public with her. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist and pulled her off balance. At first she thought she was being attacked; her first instinct was to fight. Looking up into the face of her alleged attacker, she relaxed some. It was only Merry. Wait! What was Merry doing with her arm around her waist?! She pulled away, seething, and glared at him. "You are one of the last people I want to be seen in public with. And you are the last person I want to put their arm around my waist- in public!" She let out a little cry of rage, grabbed her basket from his arm, and stormed away, leaving Merry in the middle of the market feeling snubbed.

A/N: Eeep, you're still with me. Hooray! I realize something is wrong with my apostrophes and I am really, truly, sincerely sorry about that. I also realize this chapter was maybe not as good as the other ones, but hey, at least there's a plot developing, eh? Next chapter: The Dance!