Chapter 3: Hiding Place

Merry hurriedly unfastened the saddle, and stabled his pony. He sent

Estella into the countrified house he and his cousin had been sharing for

nearly six months. It was March, and a brisk chill was still in the air.

He didn't want the poor girl to catch a cold from being sopping wet.

He found Estella at the kitchen table; sniffling and wiping her face with

a dry cloth she'd found lying about on the counter. A bittersweet smile

crossed his face. Estella had such an enduring spirit that he was stunned

to hear her say she wanted to take her own life. Odovacar Bolger was a

gentlehobbit and loving father. It seemed his death was more crushing

than his wife's had been to their daughter.

"Would you like to take a warm bath?" Merry asked, noticing she was

shivering slightly. "It will drive the chill from your bones."

Estella nodded. "All right."

Merry went to prepare the bath, and came back several minutes later to

find Estella staring absently down at the kitchen table. He led her to

the washroom, leaving her to take care of herself. He checked on her

every once and a while, just in case. The last time he checked on her, he

held a bundle in his arms.

"Estella!" Merry called into the door.

"Yes?" a muffled response came.

"I'm sorry I don't have any clothes here fit for a lass. I know you can't

possibly change into your wet dress, so I brought you some of Pippin's

old clothes he had before we left. I'm sure they'll fit you."

He left the bundle against the door, and headed to the kitchen to finish

cooking breakfast. He was setting the plates on the table when Estella

emerged. She looked awkward in Pippin's old breeches and button-up white

shirt, but Merry didn't take notice of it. He sat her down, and proceeded

to place bacon and toast onto her plate. Estella held up a hand.

"I'm not hungry, Merry. Please don't waste food on me," she said,

politely.

"How long has it been since you last ate?"

Estella thought for a moment. "Yesterday around luncheon I ate a

sandwich."

Merry's eyes widened. She did seem a bit underweight, at least by hobbit

standers. Estella had been working herself ragged the last couple years.

"You need to eat something."

Estella glared at him. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry."

Estella was warmed by the magnitude of compassion her old friend had

shown to her so far. Merry had always been friendly to her, even when

he'd tease her. He had never pulled her braids like some of her brother's

friends frequently did when they were younger.

Now, she was glaring at his kindness. Between the hunger burns she felt

from not eating in so long and the nausea caused from emotions, she

didn't feel she could stomach anything - and was surprised she hadn't

vomited yet from crying so much.

Merry sat beside her, his own plate curiously empty. "At least try to eat

something, even if it is just a little. I won't have you fainting on me."

"I am not sure if I can handle food right now."

He tore a small piece of toast off, and offered it to her. "This might

help. Toast always helps to calm the stomach."

Estella blew through her nose, frustrated, and accepted the piece. She

slowly chewed the toast and swallowed it, but another piece was waiting

for her as soon as she finished. She accepted a few more pieces and a

drink of water before raising a hand, saying, "That's enough. Is there a

place I can lie down?"

Merry stood, gesturing her to follow. "You can stay in one of the guest

bedrooms."

As soon as Estella's head hit the pillow, sleep took over and she was

lost in oblivion.

"Dear sister."

Estella stirred at the familiar voice. A hand cupped her cheek, and she

rubbed against it unconsciously. Fredegar smiled as his little sister

opened her eyes.

"Freddy?"

"That's my girl." He stroked her unkempt hair.

Estella drew her sleeved-arm over her eyes then sat up, looking around.

She was startled at the foreign surroundings, but after a moment,

remembered where she was.

"Fred, what are you doing here?" she asked, swatting his hand away.

"I heard you had a slip in the river, so I come to bring you home,"

Fredegar answered, slightly saddened that she had pushed him away. "I

took care of everything, Stella. Father is in good hands with Undertaker

Brownlock, and will be buried next to Mother."

Estella looked puzzled. "You took care of it that quickly? It can't be

passed noon."

"It's already dusk."

Estella followed Fred's finger to the window. The curtains were open, and

the nighttime could be seen. "Oh my, I must have slept all day." She

slipped out of the blanket, dangling her feet over the edge of the bed.

"I brought a fresh dress from home." Fred nabbed the dress from where

it

hung on the back of a chair, and handed it to her. "I'll leave you to get

changed. I also brought your pony to ride home on."

Estella paused, digesting the information her brother had just said.

Either he did not know or did not believe that she wasn't leaving. "I'm

not coming home with you, Fred."

Fredegar halted at the door, and turned sharply. "Yes, you are."

"No, I am not," Estella replied, firmly. She raised herself to full

height, eye to eye with Fred. "Didn't Merry or Pippin tell you? I'm

staying here."

"Stella," Fred's voice cracked. "I need you at home."

"Where were you when I need you?" She heaved, shaking her head. There

was

no use now, to bring up what was done. "I love you, Fred. Nothing will

ever change that. But, you had your turn to run and hide when Father was

sick. Well, now it's my turn to run and hide. I can't go home with you."

Fred's gaze fell to the floor. Estella moved to wrap her arms around his

neck, and was relieved when he returned the embrace.

"They have been in there a long time."

"Well, they need the time to work through their grief together. Pippin,

stop that."

Merry snatched the butter knife Pippin had been twirling on the kitchen

table. Pippin frowned, and shifted in his chair.

"Forgive me if I'm a bit impatient."

"What's to forgive?" Merry shrugged, nonchalantly. "You're

always

impatient."

Pippin glowered, but said nothing.

Just then, the door to the guest bedroom opened and Fredegar stepped out

alone - head hung low. He walked up to the cousins.

"Take good care of my sister," he said, gripping Merry's shoulder.

"I'll

be back with more of her clothes in a day or so."

"She really isn't going home, is she?" Merry asked, knowingly.

Fred shook his head, sadly. "She's standing her ground, and I

understand." He moved to the rack to retrieve his cloak.

"You're leaving already, Fredegar?" Pippin asked, rising to stand next

to

him. "You just got here!"

"I think," Fred started, trying to frame the sensitive situation into

the

right words. "I think it's best that I let Estella be. We haven't worked

out all our troubles, but we will, she said. She just needs time." He

flicked his gaze from Pippin then Merry then to the floor again.

"Farewell for now, lads."

He left Merry and Pippin quite speechless and motionless. They had

assumed Fredegar would convince his sister to go home with him. It was

not that they wanted to get rid of her, but they thought it best that the

family be together at this trying time. Something was there, something

between the two siblings that they did not know about.

Before either one could open their mouths to discuss it, Estella appeared

from the hallway. She still wore Pippin's old clothes, and her hair had

been comb and braided. Her face was flushed, but the tear streaks had

been washed away. They stared at her dumbfounded, though Estella paid no

mind.

"Have you eaten supper yet?"

Pippin was the first to move, carelessly bumping into a chair on his way

out the kitchen. "No, we have not," he muttered, passing her.

Estella watched him hurry into the study then turned to Merry, who had

stepped up to her. "Is something wrong?" she asked in concern.

"Am I

intruding here? Forgive me if I am. I just thought you meant…"

"No," Merry cut her off. "You're not intruding. I invited you

here, and

if you want to stay, you can."

"Why was Pippin acting like that?"

Merry shrugged. "He's not sure how to act around you just yet. Trust me,

if this were a situation with no grief involved, he'd be fawning over

you." He said the last part with a smile.

"I trust you know your cousin."

"A little too well, but I'm not complaining."

Estella nodded absently, reassured by Merry's response. She stared around

the kitchen. It was a fairly good size, though a little smaller than the

one at the Bolger home. The counter was surprisingly clean. She noted not

to underestimate menfolk when it came to cleaning up.

"What would you like for supper?"

"You don't have to make supper," Merry replied, quickly.

"It's the least I could do for you two."

"Are you sure?"

Estella stared Merry directly in the eye, trying desperately to keep

herself calm. When she was upset, her temper would usually fly off

without her and sling the first person it came in contact with. She took

a deep breath, and pleaded, "Just let me do this."

Merry nodded, backing off. He'd never gotten to be around Estella when

her mother died, so he really had no knowledge of how she handled death.

He'd only seen her at the funeral, weeping and being comforting by her

Father. Then, two months, she appeared again, seemingly all right. If he

could handle traveling thousands of miles from home, get dragged over

Rohan by orcs, and nearly lost from stabbing the Witch-king, he could

handle this lass in mourning.

"Let me show you where everything is."