Author's Note: I have a lot of headcanon about all the hobbits post-quest, but Merry and his family in particular. This little one-shot is about Estella's feelings when their oldest son has an accident that ultimately cripples him.
It is there in his eyes almost from before he can truly comprehend the stories his father tells him. Estella sees it, despises it.
It is there when he plays pretend adventures with Faramir and the Gamgee children, and whenever his father wears the fine armor from lands far away that she has never seen, never wanted to see.
The wanderlust. That's what it is. The wanderlust that she sees even now in her husband, in Pippin, in Samwise at times, when the sun sinks into the West in September, when all their thoughts are turned to Frodo Baggins and elven ships.
Somehow, that accursed wanderlust has taken root in Theodoc's heart. Estella wants to stifle it, suffocate it, put it out, drive it all the way out of him and replace it with good hobbit-sense. And yet, she knows she cannot, should not. Even as she cannot and should not drive it out of Merry.
She knows that one day, Merry will leave. She does not live in fear of it, for she knows his heart well. She knows his love for her runs deep, and that he will not leave, not for good, until she is dead and gone. And she will go before him. She can feel it.
But to lose her eldest son? That was not something she had planned for. And yet as he grows, as he turns from a faunt into a teen, the day draws nearer when he will leave the safety of Buckland, of the Shire, for more dangerous places. Those will be places where she cannot protect him, where not even Merry can protect him.
Sitting awake in the dark of night, Estella reflects on all her life has become. Knowing she will never be enough to satisfy the longings of her husband's heart, knowing her child is not satisfied in the land that ought to content him makes her stomach turn in knots and tears prick her eyes.
But she resolves to be thankful, as she knows she must be. As Rosie and Diamond must be. She must be grateful for the life, the family, the time she has been given. For the time is coming when the Travelers will travel once again, but no wives or children will accompany them.
And then, the accident.
At first, they do not know if Theo will live. But he does. And the relief that floods her makes her almost weary.
Though she never speaks the feelings aloud to anyone, save for herself in the quiet hours of the morning when she is alone, Estella hopes that the accident will quell the wanderlust, quench the desire to travel the wide world.
It does not.
She can see in Theo instead a quiet, growing determination. An admiration for her son fills her, for not many young lads would have found strength to endure those first days as he did, when things were so uncertain. Theodoc never once cries, not even when the healers tell him he will likely never walk again.
Then Gimli comes, bringing with him dwarven made braces that straighten Theo's now twisted legs. When Estella watches him learn to walk again, her heart is at once thrilled and shattered. For now, his mobility is restored, at least partially. And the wanderlust? It burns more strongly than ever before.
He begs his father to take them all to Rohan, and Merry needs little convincing. He has desired to go for many years now, Estella knows, but has never asked. The time never seemed right. But her child-bearing days are behind her now, and Rory and Wyn are no longer babes. She goes with him without complaint. Because she loves him. Because Rohan is important to him. And soon it becomes important to Theodoc too.
Their first night back in the Shire is spent listening to Theo telling his siblings of his plans to leave. He's well into his tweens now, and Merry has already arranged for Periadoc to take on the title of Master, though he is not the eldest.
Estella sheds bitter tears when all the children have gone to bed. They slide over her cheeks and onto her pillow, noiselessly, as not to wake Merry.
He wakes anyways, and holds her, offering comfort with no words. He knows why she weeps, he knows what troubles her, and has no words to give, for she is right. Theodoc will leave, and one day, so will Merry.
And so, Estella weeps for what her life might have been, if Theo had never been hurt, if Frodo had never sailed west, if Merry had never gone away and come back so changed. And then, with the gratefulness fully back in her grasp, she dashes away her tears, kisses her husband's brow, whispers endearments to him, and falls asleep.