Hello everyone! I should be (notice the should) getting this story up a
lot faster now, since it is my only work in progress right now. So
everybody dance! *dances*
DiamondTook3: Thank you for your kind words! Yes, I got TTTEE, and it's awesome! Well, by now you've probably seen it too. :0)
Loveofthering: Oh yes. Merry's most definitely going to have his hands full. And we will laugh when we see it. :0)
Rosa Cotton: Yes, poor Pippin suffers many embarrassing moments in this story. Lucky for him, I don't think any more are going to coming in the very near future.
Arwen Baggins: I'm sorry if you find this story unbelievable. I personally think the plot line works relatively well. Besides, Grandmother Hetta lives rather far from anyone else, as Fatty says. I think it would be possible. And possibilities are what breed stories.
KitKatz: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Here's an update!
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Yes, I am having so much fun writing her. :0) I'm glad you like her!
MLynnBloom: Yesss! We hates the nasssty teacherses! They tells us we would not have much homework, and then we stays up until the white face appears working on the nassty homework! Wicked! Tricksy! False they are! We hates them! :0)
Rosie Lemondrop: Thank you so much for the feedback! Yes, I could not get the picture of Pippin pouting out of my head for a very long time. :0)
Aragorns-gurl33: And being dogpiled by the hobbits is supposed to be a bad thing? *wink* Hehe. :0)
Concetta: Here's an update!
Okay! On with the story!
***********************************************************
Merry was a tiny bit surprised when the modest hobbit hole came into view as his pony clopped its way along the path. It would almost look like a beautiful painting, if it were not for the lingering scars the ruffians had left. One such scar was a wide tree trunk poking out of the ground near the front of the hobbit hole. Merry shook his head sadly. That was one more thing for Sam to be upset about; that tree must have been one of the old majestic giants.
If one looked past this, all they saw was a quaint little dwelling with roses in the gardens, clothes hanging out on the line to dry, and inside the round windows were curtains which were embroidered with tiny blue flowers. For a moment, Merry wondered if he had come to the right place.
Then again, what had he been expecting? A chance to reminisce back to the darkness of Moria?
He shrugged off the thought. Dismounting his pony, he tied her loosely to the corner of the fence and continued towards the door on foot. As he drew closer, he could make out someone speaking.
"What were you expecting me to have to eat, Estella?" A cracked voice shrilled, "I am not some dratted conjuring wizard! I cannot simply make my luncheon appear from thin air!"
Merry cringed. He would hate to be on the receiving end of that ire. He couldn't hear the reply, but he did now know from where Estella most likely got her attitude.
After a pause, the shrill voice came again, "Don't lie to me, girl! You must learn some responsibility if you're to take care of a poor old woman such as I! Since you seem to not have gotten the job done yesterday, please do so now!" Another pause, and then, "Well, what are you waiting for, Estella! Go!"
Merry jumped as the round door burst open, and Estella stormed out. She stood silently for a moment, clenching and unclenching her fists, before throwing a cloak around her shoulders and stomping away from the hobbit hole muttering foul language under her breath.
As she drew closer to where Merry stood she suddenly looked up, obviously seeing him for the first time. She narrowed her eyes a bit and said brusquely, "Are you lost?"
"No, miss," Merry said smoothly, ready to deliver his fabricated explanation for why he was here. He opened his mouth . . . and then promptly shut it. He had no fabricated explanation. "Uh," he began uncertainly, "Yes, actually, I am lost. I was on my way to . . . er . . . the Green Dragon! That's it! And . . . uh . . . here I am."
Estella, her expression blank, regarded him for moment, and then looked back down the only road leading to her grandmother's hobbit hole. A road that went nearly in the exact direction of the Green Dragon. She raised an eyebrow, "Are you trying to be funny, sir?" She asked sarcastically, "Or are you really that lacking in your intelligence? You sound like a fool."
Merry's gaze roved about evasively. Then he burst out laughing, "Yes!" he said between his forced mirth, "It was a joke, you see? And you fell for it completely!" He looked up quickly to gauge her reaction.
Estella eyed him suspiciously.
Straightening, he composed himself and offered his hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Estella," he said cordially, "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck." He accompanied the mention of his name with what he thought was a striking smile.
"The Master of Brandy Hall's son," She mused, glancing at his outstretched hand, but she maid no move to take it. Then, suddenly, her head snapped up and she glared at him with blazing eyes, "How do know my name?"
Merry awkwardly withdrew his hand, "Well," he shuffled nervously, unnerved by that fearless glower, "Last time I checked I was friends with your brother, Fatty."
Her face softened somewhat, "And he told you about me?"
"Of course," Merry replied, "Why shouldn't he?"
Apparently, Estella chose not to answer his question, and instead shouldered her way past him, "Forgive me, Meriadoc, but. . ."
"You can call me just Merry."
"Fine, Merry," She waved him off, "But, as I was going to say, I have to be going."
He followed her as she walked, "Where are you off to?"
If she knew he was following her, she made no sign, "I need to go to the market to get some bread and fruit for my Grandmother Hetta."
"So," Merry considered, "She was the one with the shrill voice that I heard, right? It must be difficult living with someone like that."
She whirled around, and Merry nearly tripped over his own feet to avoid colliding with her, "How DARE you say such things about my Grandmother?" She hissed, shaking with rage.
Merry backed up, holding his hands up in submission, "I'm terribly sorry, Estella! I didn't . . ."
"You should be sorry!" She spat the words at him, and then turned to continue on her way.
"Wait!" Merry called to her, groping about desperately for a way to keep where he could try and work her over with his charm, "Are you sure you want to go all the way to the market on foot?" He asked at last, nearly backing down when she did not even turn around to acknowledge him, "You may ride my pony if you wish."
"I'm not crippled," she responded tersely, "I can make it there just fine on my own."
As he watched her walk briskly away, Merry slumped against the fence, discouraged. If there was one thing that girl lacked, it was tactfulness.
He needed to adapt his strategies.
*********************************************************
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Rosamunda Bolger called out pleasantly, hustling over to the round door to her home. The person outside knocked politely once more before Rosamunda reached the door and opened it.
"Meriadoc!" She exclaimed, with almost too much friendliness, "I have not seen you in too long, dear boy!" She reached out and pulled him into her, hugging him tightly.
"Yes, it has been too long, Mrs. Bolger!" He smiled courteously.
"Oh, it seems like just yesterday," She murmured, patting Merry's arm, "When you and my boy, Fredegar, were small lads and would go off playing together," She sighed, finally pulling away from the embrace, "Sometimes, I feel like you're a son of my own,"
Merry grinned, "You were lucky we didn't usually stay at your home when we got into mischief," his eyes twinkled, "You do know that your son and I earned quite a large reputation at Brandy Hall."
She let out a hearty laugh, "Yes, yes," She gestured for him to follow her into the parlor, "So, lad, what brings you here?"
"I'm actually here to bring a message from my father,"
"Don't tell me Saradoc wants me to help cook a feast for a multitude of guests again."
"Actually," Merry replied, "He requests that you and your family be the guests."
"Oh! How kind of him!" Rosamunda said, her rosy cheeks becoming more prominent as she smiled.
"Yes," Merry said graciously, "Indeed, it has been too long. We would like to invite your family . . . your entire family. . . as in everyone . . . to come to Brandy Hall to dine with us the evening on the day after tomorrow."
"Oh, we would be delighted!" She clapped her hands energetically, "I will have to tell my husband and Fredegar!"
"Don't forget Estella," Merry reminded her.
"Yes, I will tell my daughter too," Rosamunda agreed, nodding her head slightly.
"Then it's all settled!" Merry said aloud, and then in his thoughts, a tiny voice whispered, 'Oh, I've got it all settled all right! This plan is foolproof! Well, it would be if I had a plan. It doesn't matter. I can improvise. And I'll melt Estella's heart of ice if it's the last thing I do!' The memory of her fiery glare resurfaced in his mind, 'Which it probably will be if I mess this up.'
TBC
DiamondTook3: Thank you for your kind words! Yes, I got TTTEE, and it's awesome! Well, by now you've probably seen it too. :0)
Loveofthering: Oh yes. Merry's most definitely going to have his hands full. And we will laugh when we see it. :0)
Rosa Cotton: Yes, poor Pippin suffers many embarrassing moments in this story. Lucky for him, I don't think any more are going to coming in the very near future.
Arwen Baggins: I'm sorry if you find this story unbelievable. I personally think the plot line works relatively well. Besides, Grandmother Hetta lives rather far from anyone else, as Fatty says. I think it would be possible. And possibilities are what breed stories.
KitKatz: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Here's an update!
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Yes, I am having so much fun writing her. :0) I'm glad you like her!
MLynnBloom: Yesss! We hates the nasssty teacherses! They tells us we would not have much homework, and then we stays up until the white face appears working on the nassty homework! Wicked! Tricksy! False they are! We hates them! :0)
Rosie Lemondrop: Thank you so much for the feedback! Yes, I could not get the picture of Pippin pouting out of my head for a very long time. :0)
Aragorns-gurl33: And being dogpiled by the hobbits is supposed to be a bad thing? *wink* Hehe. :0)
Concetta: Here's an update!
Okay! On with the story!
***********************************************************
Merry was a tiny bit surprised when the modest hobbit hole came into view as his pony clopped its way along the path. It would almost look like a beautiful painting, if it were not for the lingering scars the ruffians had left. One such scar was a wide tree trunk poking out of the ground near the front of the hobbit hole. Merry shook his head sadly. That was one more thing for Sam to be upset about; that tree must have been one of the old majestic giants.
If one looked past this, all they saw was a quaint little dwelling with roses in the gardens, clothes hanging out on the line to dry, and inside the round windows were curtains which were embroidered with tiny blue flowers. For a moment, Merry wondered if he had come to the right place.
Then again, what had he been expecting? A chance to reminisce back to the darkness of Moria?
He shrugged off the thought. Dismounting his pony, he tied her loosely to the corner of the fence and continued towards the door on foot. As he drew closer, he could make out someone speaking.
"What were you expecting me to have to eat, Estella?" A cracked voice shrilled, "I am not some dratted conjuring wizard! I cannot simply make my luncheon appear from thin air!"
Merry cringed. He would hate to be on the receiving end of that ire. He couldn't hear the reply, but he did now know from where Estella most likely got her attitude.
After a pause, the shrill voice came again, "Don't lie to me, girl! You must learn some responsibility if you're to take care of a poor old woman such as I! Since you seem to not have gotten the job done yesterday, please do so now!" Another pause, and then, "Well, what are you waiting for, Estella! Go!"
Merry jumped as the round door burst open, and Estella stormed out. She stood silently for a moment, clenching and unclenching her fists, before throwing a cloak around her shoulders and stomping away from the hobbit hole muttering foul language under her breath.
As she drew closer to where Merry stood she suddenly looked up, obviously seeing him for the first time. She narrowed her eyes a bit and said brusquely, "Are you lost?"
"No, miss," Merry said smoothly, ready to deliver his fabricated explanation for why he was here. He opened his mouth . . . and then promptly shut it. He had no fabricated explanation. "Uh," he began uncertainly, "Yes, actually, I am lost. I was on my way to . . . er . . . the Green Dragon! That's it! And . . . uh . . . here I am."
Estella, her expression blank, regarded him for moment, and then looked back down the only road leading to her grandmother's hobbit hole. A road that went nearly in the exact direction of the Green Dragon. She raised an eyebrow, "Are you trying to be funny, sir?" She asked sarcastically, "Or are you really that lacking in your intelligence? You sound like a fool."
Merry's gaze roved about evasively. Then he burst out laughing, "Yes!" he said between his forced mirth, "It was a joke, you see? And you fell for it completely!" He looked up quickly to gauge her reaction.
Estella eyed him suspiciously.
Straightening, he composed himself and offered his hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Estella," he said cordially, "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck." He accompanied the mention of his name with what he thought was a striking smile.
"The Master of Brandy Hall's son," She mused, glancing at his outstretched hand, but she maid no move to take it. Then, suddenly, her head snapped up and she glared at him with blazing eyes, "How do know my name?"
Merry awkwardly withdrew his hand, "Well," he shuffled nervously, unnerved by that fearless glower, "Last time I checked I was friends with your brother, Fatty."
Her face softened somewhat, "And he told you about me?"
"Of course," Merry replied, "Why shouldn't he?"
Apparently, Estella chose not to answer his question, and instead shouldered her way past him, "Forgive me, Meriadoc, but. . ."
"You can call me just Merry."
"Fine, Merry," She waved him off, "But, as I was going to say, I have to be going."
He followed her as she walked, "Where are you off to?"
If she knew he was following her, she made no sign, "I need to go to the market to get some bread and fruit for my Grandmother Hetta."
"So," Merry considered, "She was the one with the shrill voice that I heard, right? It must be difficult living with someone like that."
She whirled around, and Merry nearly tripped over his own feet to avoid colliding with her, "How DARE you say such things about my Grandmother?" She hissed, shaking with rage.
Merry backed up, holding his hands up in submission, "I'm terribly sorry, Estella! I didn't . . ."
"You should be sorry!" She spat the words at him, and then turned to continue on her way.
"Wait!" Merry called to her, groping about desperately for a way to keep where he could try and work her over with his charm, "Are you sure you want to go all the way to the market on foot?" He asked at last, nearly backing down when she did not even turn around to acknowledge him, "You may ride my pony if you wish."
"I'm not crippled," she responded tersely, "I can make it there just fine on my own."
As he watched her walk briskly away, Merry slumped against the fence, discouraged. If there was one thing that girl lacked, it was tactfulness.
He needed to adapt his strategies.
*********************************************************
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Rosamunda Bolger called out pleasantly, hustling over to the round door to her home. The person outside knocked politely once more before Rosamunda reached the door and opened it.
"Meriadoc!" She exclaimed, with almost too much friendliness, "I have not seen you in too long, dear boy!" She reached out and pulled him into her, hugging him tightly.
"Yes, it has been too long, Mrs. Bolger!" He smiled courteously.
"Oh, it seems like just yesterday," She murmured, patting Merry's arm, "When you and my boy, Fredegar, were small lads and would go off playing together," She sighed, finally pulling away from the embrace, "Sometimes, I feel like you're a son of my own,"
Merry grinned, "You were lucky we didn't usually stay at your home when we got into mischief," his eyes twinkled, "You do know that your son and I earned quite a large reputation at Brandy Hall."
She let out a hearty laugh, "Yes, yes," She gestured for him to follow her into the parlor, "So, lad, what brings you here?"
"I'm actually here to bring a message from my father,"
"Don't tell me Saradoc wants me to help cook a feast for a multitude of guests again."
"Actually," Merry replied, "He requests that you and your family be the guests."
"Oh! How kind of him!" Rosamunda said, her rosy cheeks becoming more prominent as she smiled.
"Yes," Merry said graciously, "Indeed, it has been too long. We would like to invite your family . . . your entire family. . . as in everyone . . . to come to Brandy Hall to dine with us the evening on the day after tomorrow."
"Oh, we would be delighted!" She clapped her hands energetically, "I will have to tell my husband and Fredegar!"
"Don't forget Estella," Merry reminded her.
"Yes, I will tell my daughter too," Rosamunda agreed, nodding her head slightly.
"Then it's all settled!" Merry said aloud, and then in his thoughts, a tiny voice whispered, 'Oh, I've got it all settled all right! This plan is foolproof! Well, it would be if I had a plan. It doesn't matter. I can improvise. And I'll melt Estella's heart of ice if it's the last thing I do!' The memory of her fiery glare resurfaced in his mind, 'Which it probably will be if I mess this up.'
TBC