As the harvest and remembrance feast drew nearer, Sam and Rose invited the Bolgers to stay in Bag End, rather than one of the inns around Hobbiton.
"Merry and the Tooks are staying with us, so you may as well! Even with the wee ones, Bag End feels far too big for my liking. Come help me fill all these empty rooms!" Rose had said. So, Estella, Fred, and Rosamunda had accepted the invitation gladly.
Now, the day had arrived, the evening had come, and Estella found herself before a large mirror, nearly ready for the night. Laces, laces, laces, all up the back of her new dress, were being worked quickly and skillfully by her mother.
Estella looked at herself in the mirror and assessed her reflection. She thought she looked rather pretty. Well, rather pretty for her. Brown curls were pulled away from her face and tied back with green ribbons Rose had gifted her. Rosamunda had strategically pulled a few curls and let them fall around Estella's face.
Her new dress, surely the finest she had ever had, made her eyes seem brighter and her skin clear and pale. Sage greens and ivory, with many tiny florals stitched in all around, it was truly beautiful. Overbearing though Rosamunda could be at times, Estella could have cried thinking of all the tedious hours her mother had spent on this dress. Painstaking hours of cutting stitching, piecing together, all for this night, for this November feast.
The lacing now complete, Estella watched Rosamunda in the mirror. Her mother's eyes came to rest on her back, and on instinct, Estella's hand reached behind her to try and cover what her mother saw. It was the only thing she did not like about this dress; it came down just enough in the back that they were visible.
"Now, Stella," her mother chided, more gently than she almost ever spoke. "You're not to be ashamed. Those are the marks of a brave, brave lass who loves her home and her family. But here, take your shawl. No one will be the wiser."
Making sure her upper back was quite covered, Estella looked in the mirror once again. "This dress is beautiful Mam, it really is."
Rosamunda beamed with pride. "Well, my darling girl will need some fine clothes if she's to be seen by Meriadoc Brandybuck's side at all the Shire's celebrations!" Her arms came around Estella, pulling her into an embrace.
Estella held her mother tightly. She knew this feast was meant to be a celebration, a reminder of the liberation of the Shire, but she wished dearly she could have skipped it. If she hadn't been courting Merry, she may have been able to get away with not making an appearance, but that would not be her lot for this year.
She felt Rosamunda's shoulders shaking and only squeezed her tighter. "You've endured so much, my girl, you and your brother. I wish I had done more to protect you."
"No, Mama," Estella called her mother the name she only used on the rarest of occasions. "Nothing that happened was because of anything you did or did not do. Freddy and I would both do it again, you know that. No crying now, it will be time to go any moment."
Rosamunda nodded and wiped at the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. "Of course, of course." She took one more look at Estella and smiled. "Oh, Stelly dear, you do look just perfect!"
And with that, there was a soft knock at the door, and little Elanor peeked inside, eyes growing wide when she saw Estella.
"Ooh, your dress has flowers like mine!" she cried.
Estella laughed and bent to hug the child. "Yes, it does, sweet Ellie, and don't you look so fine tonight! Absolutely beautiful!"
Elanor beamed proudly swished her skirts back and forth. "Everyone is ready now, and it's time to go! Miss Diamond and Mr. Pippin already left, and Rose-mum says I can have two tarts when we get to the Party Field!"
Estella laughed and took Elanor's hand. "Well, we wouldn't want to delay that, now would we? Let's go!" And they walked to the entry way of Bag End together. Sam stood with Rose-lass in his arms, her curly little head laid on his shoulder in contentment. Rose fussed with Frodo-lad's overcoat, distressed over the fact that he'd once again, pulled one of the buttons loose. Baby Merry was wrapped tightly on her chest with a long length of fabric, to keep him warm and safe but ensure she had the use of her hands to look after the other three.
Fred came forward, taking his mother's arm and following the group of Gamgee's out the door.
As all this was happening, Merry came to Estella and bowed, offering his arm. Estella thought he looked much too grand to be escorting the likes of her to such a feast. He stood tall and proud, in his fine armor that made him unmistakably an Esquire of Rohan. His sword and horn were at his side, and he looked even taller than he was. Estella, even drawing herself up to her full height, did not even come to his shoulder. She felt small and insignificant next to him as they made their way to the Party Field.
Many large tents had been erected to keep the hobbits sheltered from the November chill, though it felt as though it would be unnecessary. It was still daylight, but there were torches placed everywhere so once the quickly approaching evening doused the sun, there would be plenty of light to see by. Vendors had their carts and wares scattered about, and there was already much eating and drinking going on.
Estella talked pleasantly as she was able to with the many, many hobbits who approached Merry, and therefore, her, as she was obliged to stay by his side. She felt his eyes on her frequently, and she didn't doubt it was because she was quieter, more reserved than her usual self.
She spoke little during the feasting, and while she listened to the speeches of honor given to those who had played special roles in liberating the Shire, she knew that anyone could see that she was not interested and would prefer to go.
After going forward for Mayor Samwise to present him with his own special recognition, Merry came to her and whispered, "You look miserable."
"Not miserable," she hissed back, "But I'd like to be anywhere but here."
"Then let's slip away for a walk, when Sam is through, how's that?"
It sounded far better than staying for the remainder of the night, so Estella agreed. She endured the rest of the speeches and recognitions dutifully, and when the crowds started their applause, Merry took her arm and pulled her from the tent. She was almost instantly relieved. The tension and anxious feelings she'd held now felt like they could be released under the late autumn sky. It was unseasonably warm, like the lull between summer and autumn. The moon was rising, large and yellow over the hills, and the stars shone brightly with no clouds to hide them.
They walked in silence for a while, down the gentle slope and through the still thick grasses that had turned brown and brittle.
Estella knew Merry was staring at her. "I don't like this feast," she said, her own voice sounding sharp to her. "I know it's silly because it's supposed to be about remembering when Bad Times came to an end. For me though, it's just a reminder that they happened at all and sometimes I don't want to remember."
Merry sighed deeply. "I understand. Probably better than most. And I think there's some wisdom in that, not wanting to remember, I mean. Strider told me before we parted ways that he believes some of the hardiness of hobbits comes from the way we fill our minds with the day to day. Always dwelling on our troubles wouldn't bode well, I think."
"I know," this reminder made her feel small once again. "I feel quite silly complaining about it at all to you. You've seen far more suffering than any of us did here. Our trials must seem so small and trivial in comparison to an Esquire of Rohan." She found Merry had directed their path towards a grove of trees, now bare of the leaves they bore in spring and summer. She let him. Anything to get away from any cloying eyes.
"Pain is pain and suffering is suffering no matter who goes through it or how much of it there is," Merry's voice was different now than his usual tone, there was no levity or mirth. "You can't know what someone has on their mind and in their heart until they tell you, and what seems small to one might be nearly more than another can bear."
The trees loomed larger in their path now, and the noises of toasts and cheers from the tents were fading away behind them. Estella watched Merry beside her in the moonlight, her eyes drawn to the brown scar on his forehead. How much pain and suffering had he endured, truly? He spoke of his great deeds, and the whole of the Shire knew he'd been captured by orcs and helped to slay one of the great warriors of the Dark Lord Sauron, but what had that cost him?
At last, they reached the grove and Merry stopped walking. Estella stopped next to him and looked up at his face, thankful for the escape he had provided her. His eyes met hers and she found herself marveling at how he looked at her. She no longer felt so small, so insignificant, when he looked at her as if she were the most delightful thing he'd ever beheld. She knew she was not. She had heard the way he spoke of the Lady Galadriel, Lady Arwen, and Lady Éowyn. And yet she could not help but smile back at him.
"You look almost elvish tonight, Estella," he told her. "Just beautiful." The familiar warmth and hint of playfulness was back in his voice now. Like he had months ago, he lifted his hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear, but this time she allowed it. In fact, she allowed him to pull her close, and before she even fully realized it, he was kissing her. She was unsure of what to do. She had only ever kissed him the day Fred had walked in on them, and this was quite different than the kiss he'd given her then. This was more urgent, more insisting, but still gentle. Estella let her eyes close and kissed him back. Hesitantly at first, but then with more confidence when he put one hand on her hip, she let her own hands climb up his chest and around his neck.
What am I doing? She thought frantically. He was less gentle now, more wanting. Should I be doing this? Will this make him think I love him when I don't? Quite suddenly, she felt Merry's hand on her back, underneath her shawl, but she was too distracted to notice at first how his fingers felt out the raised marks that were there on her skin. It wasn't until she felt he had traced them to the back of her dress that she desperately untangled herself from him, taking a step back and breathing heavily.
"Stop, please." She hated the way her voice sounded. Soft and trembling, not the kind of voice that would ensure he would take her seriously. Merry held his hands up in a show of surrender anyways.
"I'm sorry, Estella, I didn't mean to upset you."
She bit her lip and looked at the ground, taking a slow breath to calm her pounding heart.
Merry apologized again. "I am sorry. I'll take you back to Bag End now, if you'd like."
She shook her head and moved closer to him once again though, not ready to leave, just unsure of how much to share with him. "No, Merry. Not yet please. I just… I don't like sharing my scars with anyone." She turned her back to him, lowering her shawl and sweeping her hair to the side, exposing the marks, the reminders, to him for the first time. "But there they are. Some of them. The rest are worse, but they are not in places that are for you to see."
She felt the warmth of his fingers tracing the raised lines again, stopping once they disappeared under the ivory line of her dress. "You weren't just imprisoned," he said, voice low and dark once again.
"No," she confirmed.
"They beat you?"
Estella turned back around and was taken aback by the fire in Merry's eyes. It wasn't quite rage, but something equally as passionate and driven. "I… yes. I was hurt. Badly. Freddy doesn't even know how badly, and I don't want him to. He already thinks it's his fault that it happened at all and I don't think he could bear it if he knew the full extent." She pulled her shawl back around her now, the comfort of knowing things once again being hidden easing her mind a bit. "At first they thought I would tell them where he was. But I wouldn't. They knew he loved me though, and if he knew I was being hurt he would come out of hiding. And that's what happened. Once they had him locked away, they let me go. I don't know why. They rarely let anyone leave unless it was to be paraded around, talking about what would happen if you were to disobey. Then they'd put you right back. But they let me go. And Mam took care of me. She says I was nearly… Well. I'm sure she is exaggerating."
Merry closed the distance between them and folded her up into his arms. His warmth and smell surrounded her, and she closed her eyes again. He smelled of Longbottom leaf, wine, and something else she couldn't quite place, but it was fine and good and altogether him. She did not love him, no, but how wonderful it felt to be held this way, like she was cherished.
"You're far stronger than I ever knew, Estella Bolger."
Estella did not want him to let go and wrapped her arms tight around him. "You have scars of your own. Maybe you can tell me how you got them."
"Another time," he mused, his large hand pressing her head to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat and found it soothing. "For tonight, we need to get you back to Bag End. It's late, and Fatty will have my head if he thinks I've done you any harm."
"I doubt if he could reach your neck to take your head off," Estella remarked, making Merry chuckle.
"He's as strong and determined as you are, and fiercely protective. I believe he would find a way!"