Chapter 12

Knowing What He Must Do

The sunset cascaded a warm soft glow of pink across the western sky. Small puffs of clouds that flowed next to larger gray cloud trimmed the horizon by the setting sun and illuminated the pictorial sky. But still for the beauty of the evening sky, the surroundings of the old cottage long forgotten about felt desolating to the rider when he slowly approached it.

Merry pulled his pony to a halt in front of the old abandoned stable and tied the reins of the pony he rode to what was left of the deteriorated post. Looking at the door that led into the stable, he hesitated momentarily and placed his forehead against the leather saddle. Now knowing what would greet him from inside, he could not bare what he must do. Taking the bow firmly in his hand and feeling the smooth surface of the tight curves of it, he noticed his hand trembling uncontrollably.

"Get a grip upon yourself, Merry!" he said out loud to himself. "Snowclad is dying and in great misery. She needs you to end her suffering, she's counting on you!"

Daring his eyes to look upon the door again and taking one step away from the pony in front of him, he stopped suddenly. A heaviness that came from his heart of an overwhelming sadness over took him. Struggling to keep control of himself he allowed his anger to fight the tears and sorrow from dominating his resolve in doing what he felt he must. He slammed his hand against the old post feeling his will falter and failing to control his weakness. He gave into his sorrow. "I can't, Snowclad. I just can't do it!" The whisper of his words was barely audible and his tears began to flow from his eyes.

Ranking sobs shook his body as he again struggled to stop his tears from falling from his eyes. He dabbed at them with the back of his sleeve and sniffed, forcing his courage ahead of his self-pity. Trying to focus on his pony who needed him desperately he made an attempt to stand and take the few steps towards the door. With each step his courage wavered and he felt the overwhelming grief hitting him full-force and his spirit broke to tears once more. The end of the bow landing upon the ground in front of him and he lowered his head in shame. Kneeling before his bow that would end the suffering of his beloved pony, he was unable to move, while memories of his pony drifted in his thoughts from her immediate need to a time when he first saw her.

King Theoden held the reins of this pony in his hands and reached out to give them to him. This pony was now his. He could remember the sound of the king's voice that chimed in his mind when he first told him of her name, "Stybba," he said out-loud that matched the echo in his mind.

He remembered how Éomer worked with him in getting the pony to accept him as her master. Éomer's voice whispered from his memory, 'She will accept you as her friend before she accepts you as her master'. Memories of his hands shaking when he tried to reach out to the pony almost seemed silly thinking back to it now. How she intimidated him at first and rejected him at each step he tried to befriend her. He could still hear the ringing of Éomer's laughter when he would quake in front of the defiant pony.

Merry fell backward leaning against the post and lowered his head to his chest and slowly his sorrow lifted enough to stop his tears. Glancing up, he took in the brilliant sky in front of him and remembered another night such as this one. A night when everyone was asleep in their beds, when he stole out of the house of King Theoden and crept to the stable to speak with Stybba. Again she snorted at him and turned away from him while in her stall. Begging and pleading with her to befriend him, she still rejected him. Feeling defeated, he sat next to her stall and began telling her all about the Shire, all his memories of a lad growing up in the green hills of the land that he so loved. How he would care for her and run her through those lush lands. Long into the night he talked to her telling her so many of his stories and when he felt that his eyes becoming so weary in need of sleep, he felt the young pony nestle her head down upon his shoulder and accepted his friendship.

Tears from memories drifted down his eyes again while his thoughts returned to when everyone awoken the next day to find him upon Stybba's back racing her around the grounds in front of the courtyard laughing and shouting at the top of his voice. It almost felt like flight, soaring through the wind while he road upon her back. He could feel his own pride in getting the elusive pony's friendship. Seeing Éomer's who leaned up against the courtyard archway, he nodded to him as if saying, 'a job well done,' and found once more another reason to respect this hobbit.

'Stybba,' her name echoed in his mind, "Stybba!"

A small chuckle mixed in between his sobs escaped his lips when his memories took him back to the very next day after Éomer told everyone that Stybba, who once claiming a master would never allow any other upon her back. How his cousin had tried to challenge that claim and tried to ride her. He could still see the Took being flung into the air with his arms and legs wagging in all directions before he landed directly in front of him.

His laughter in that moment again turned to tears knowing that his time with this extraordinary pony had come to an end. He got to his feet and began his walk to the door that would lead him to her.

His hand touched the handle, but his will was not strong enough to turn it. Feeling his strength sway, he leaned the top of his head against the door fighting inwardly with himself. "She needs you, Merry. You must do this for her!" he said, almost shouting to himself calling for his courage. He imagined himself standing over his pony and her eyes looking into his while he held the deadly arrow in his bow. "I can't............" he sobbed to himself in despair. Letting out his tears, he covered his wet face in shame with his hands. He thought to himself how he was going to get Paladin to come and help him, but knowing the delay would take too long and she would suffer more. "Snowclad, how do I dare pull an arrow and then say good-bye to someone who I love."

He sat there lost in his anguish and grief crying into the darkness and let another image of her back into his mind and he could hear the sound of her hooves beating against the dirt ground in the Shire when the four of them returned. He saw himself climb from off her back and presented her to his father and when asked her name, he told him. Seeing his reaction to the coarse sound of her name, he decide that if Stybba would become a Shire pony that she needed a Shire type of name. Renaming her Snowclad for the white snow caps mountains in the distance that protected their lands, he endured himself to her new name.

He pulled himself up from the ground and stood drying his eyes with his sleeve. Looking at the door handle, he grabbed it firmly in his hand and allowed his anger at what had happened to this magnificent pony to pull it open and walk into the dark stables. Not being able to see very well around him and barely making out the shape of the workbench and lantern that rested upon it. He approached it searching for a match. Upon finding it, he struck it casting light into the stable and he held the lantern high above his head. He began to search for his pony.

There in the farthest corner of the stable resting upon the old stench of straw was a white pony upon her side. Her front legs were curled up almost resting next to her chest. He could just make out the deep gashes just above her front hooves. Everything that Sheffield had told him was true. He shuddered thinking how his poor pony had suffered.

She did not move with the intrusion of the light that broke the blackness of this stable and he crept closer to her. Still Snowclad did not move even when he called out her name. He could see the amount of blood that encircled his pony and it seemed that his heart stopped its beat. A cold clamminess seized him and his breath caught up in his chest. With his mind whirling, he thought he would faint. Walking the few steps to reach her, his legs felt like rubber and fell into the straw next to her. But still the pony did not move nor did her chest rise or fall.

He tossed his bow against the stall wall and pulled the straps of the quiver off of him and let it fall at his side. Crawling over to his pony, he thanked valor for being so kind and allowing this noble beast to die without his arrow to help her.

He reached out his hand and stroked her soft hair and smoothed down the length of her mane. Looking upon her face and around the black outline of her eyes that were opened, he could see thick tears still clung to them.

Lying his head down upon her neck and clutching her mane in his tight fists, he felt the strong pain of his loss and his grieving tore at his soul. Ranking sobs shook his shoulders and he cried as a young child would in his mother's arms.

Merry was not sure how long he laid there next to his pony in the old moldy straw that was around them. He was not aware of this until the door of the stable opened and he could hear footsteps coming closer to him.

Not caring whom the intruder was and being so lost in his own grief, he remained curled upon the straw with his grief for Snowclad.

"Merry, It's me, Pippin!" he said, as the smooth warmth of his voice instantly sent him sitting up looking upon his friend.

It took Pippin's breath away seeing the tears that flowed from his cousin's eyes and he rushed to him putting his arms around him.

"She gone, Pippin. She's gone and I'll miss her so!"

"I know, Merry. I know!" he cooed into his ear and held him gently.

Merry clutched Pippin tighter so he could not pull away from him and he whispered into his ear. "I lost everything, Pippin. Everything that I had ever loved in my life. They took it away from me, they took it all away. My Da is dying in his bed and I can't find my mother nor my own wife. I know deep in my heart that they are all dead by now. I want to die, Pippin, I just want to die!" and he clung onto his cousin falling deeper in sorrow.

A gentle soft hand pulled at Merry's wrist to release his cousin and Merry's eyes darted upward.

"Estella!" he cried and clutched her hand and instantly let go of Pippin who fell forward into the stench of the hay. Almost climbing over him and pulled her into his arms. His tears that once fell from sorrow now streamed down his cheeks in happiness. He stroked his wife's face and kissed her lips to make sure that she was truly standing there and that he was not dreaming.

Pippin pulled himself up from the old moldy straw feeling terribly rejected by his cousin, being cast aside so abruptly. "That's a fine thing cousin, I come to rescue you only to find myself spitting out a mouthful of straw!"

Merry and Estella turned and burst out laughing seeing Pippin's face and hair plastered with straw. Pippin slowly got up and straightened himself and smiled at the couple before him.

Merry again kissed his wife and held her closely to him.

From the darkest corner of the stable just behind Pippin, the straw began to move. First a small shifting and then a sudden whoosh.

All three hobbits turned at once and cast their eyes upon what popped out of the straw. Sitting there in front of them was a snow-white foal with a short white fluffy mane. Pippin ran over to it and lifted the small bundle into his arms and presented it to his cousin.

The newborn foal nestled her tiny head against his arm and her long thin legs dangled from under her. She let out a quick neighing sound upon seeing the hobbits. Her legs began to wildly kick trying to wiggle out of Pippin's arms.

Pippin giggled in trying to settle the young foal, but she would not have anything to do with him. Setting her down upon the straw, the young one balanced herself to stand. Trying to take her first few steps, she staggered over to Merry with the most wobbly of legs.

Seeing the newborn foal, he knelt down next to her and wrapped his arms around her small neck and nestled his head against her. He could feel the soft fluffy texture of her fur and the scent of her mother upon her.

Turning his head toward the mother and wiping his tears of emotions, he felt the grief of her passing lifted and what was once taken away, seemed to be reborn in him, yet never to be forgotten.

Estella walked over to her husband and knelt down next to him. She reached out her hand and stroked the velvety texture of the newborn foal's soft nose. The foal latched onto her fingers and began to suck them. The sound of her delightful giggle almost brought Merry to laughter that lifted any sadness that was once there. His eyes watched her intently as if he was in a dream that he never wanted to be awakened from.

Pippin sat down next to cousin and smiled at him. "It looks like your young pony is hungry and we better be getting her home and find her a bottle to feed her."

Helping Estella to stand, he placed his arms around her, "Well, Mrs. Brandybuck, shall we get our little one home?"

"By all means, my husband, we had a long day of it and I've much to tell you."

"Then please don't stop, the sound of your sweet voice is all that I want to hear," he said and bent down again and kissed his wife.

Pippin gathered the foal in his arms even though she protested profoundly, "Yes, I can tell you have your mother's spirit, she too, never quite cottoned up to me!" he said with a chuckle in his voice. "We'll give them a moment for themselves."

Pippin pushed the door opened and walked outside to where the ponies were tied up at the old post and waited for Merry and Estella to join them.

XXX

The door slowly opened and a dark shadowy figure stole into the guestroom and walked over to the sleeping lad under the covers. Striking a match and lighting the candle by his bed, the hobbit suddenly awoken and cringed seeing who stood before him.

"Faradom!" Sheffield whispered and watched his brother intently to see what he was going to do. His trust of him was limited and knew him all too well what he was capable of.

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Frodo's sister: Welcome, I love to have a new reviewer to this story. Your really made me smile...loveofthering is happy-happy! I think I answered your question in this chapter, but of course it was Pippin coming to save the day instead of Merry. I hope this surprised you. About Saradoc, thinking......thinking, we will see, Faradom is still there and will have to wait to see what he will do next!

BedTimeMonster : Now you can sorta guess who was in the crevice and what Pippin did when he found it out. Pippin is the hero of this chapter and is always there for Merry when he needs him the most! I hope you liked the chapter, it was a hard one for me to write. Merry still has one or two others to deal with when he makes it home. Faradom and Sheffield, whatever does he have planned next for the Brandybucks and the Tooks? Next chapter should tell you!

ShireElf : I wish you were here this week, I wanted to save this chapter for you, but you know that I have a problem with patience. I just can not wait for anything. I hope your having an awesome time on your vacation and looking so forward when you return. I am glad your keeping an eye on Faramir, you always could spot a surprise in my story! Oh what sharp eyes you have...... Yes, I am glad your taking your notebook, your story is awesome and I will miss your updates.....But when you come back, rested, your muse will want you to write!

Merry lad : You got it, but now you have two to read! What can I say, some days you just feel the need to write and other days every word is a struggle.....Hopefully this chapter does not read so badly! I'm still practicing and trying to do my best in writing.....yikes!

Lowri Brandybuck: I am so glad you are enjoying this story and wanting to read more. It is awesome to have reviews and makes writing the story that much more fun. You make me happy every time your review!