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“... I don’t know what to do.”
Pippin turned to Merry from where they were collecting fallen apples from underneath a small group of trees. A few others milled around, either doing the same thing or climbing up trees to get the precious fruit. “What do you mean, you don’t know what to do? You pick up apples and you put them in your bag, then you take them home and eat them. It isn’t a difficult task.”
“Not in regards to the apples, you dolt. I mean, in general.”
Pippin laughed. “Is that not a feeling! I am sure there is work you could do if you are feeling aimless. Are you short on funds?”
Merry sighed. “No. I just…” He looked down, gazing wistfully into the overflowing bag of apples he had collected. “... This is the first fall Frodo isn’t with us, and he had been sick around this time ever since the Ring, and… I know this is not true, but I just cannot help imagining him cold and alone and sick somewhere, poor lad. I used to bring him soup when he was sick. Who will bring him soup now?”
Pippin was quiet. “... I am sure Elrond and Gandalf are taking good care of him,” he finally murmured.
“... I hope so,” Merry sighed. “He was as dear to my heart as you are, Pip.”
“I know he was.”
If you had asked Merry, fifty years from that moment, about what happened next, he could have told you every detail.
He could have told you about the shriek that rang out, high and shrill. He could have told you about whirling around just in time to see Estella Bolger, sister of Fatty Bolger and a girl about his own age, begin falling from the tree she was in. He could have told you about the way her auburn curls streamed out above her as she fell. He could remember how her apple basket fell with her, the apples scattering on the ground. One moment, he was seeing her fall, and the next moment, he was right under her. Her whole weight collided with his chest. He had no idea how he stayed on his feet.
She looked up at him. He could feel her heart racing. He was sure his was racing too.
“... You caught me,” she said, numbly.
“... I caught you,” he breathlessly heaved. He gently set her down.
She stared at the grass for a moment. It took Merry a moment to realize she was crying, and he immediately felt terrible. “Aw, hey, you’re okay.” He knelt down next to her, collecting scattered apples and putting them in her basket. “Don’t cry.”
“I… I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I can’t stop. I don’t know why…”
“You’re in shock is all,” Merry reassured. “Here, I may have a hanky somewhere.” He rummaged around in his pockets until he found a bit of cloth. He offered it to her. “Wipe your eyes.”
She did, sitting there sniffling for a moment or two. Finally, she looked up. “...
Merry?”
“What, did you think I was Gandalf?”
“... No, I just… I did not recognize you at first. I am sorry.” She looked down, a few more tears trickling down her cheeks. “... You have done so much for me, for us, I should be able to know you blind and deaf. I am so sorry.”
Merry didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just passed her back her apples. “... Here. Take your apples. They spilled when you fell.”
Estella looked at the apples, then at Merry, then at the apples again. She put her apples aside, threw her arms around Merry’s neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Her hair was soft and tickly against his cheek; he could feel her cool tears hitting his neck.
It took a moment for Merry to shake off the shock of being held and put his arms around her. Her shirt was soft against his bare arms. It was a little big on her. “... Hey, really, there’s no need to cry, everything is fine now. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”
Estella pulled away after a moment, wiping her eyes on her shirtsleeve. She looked at Merry for a moment, her blue eyes wide and sorrowful.
Merry stood up, extending a hand to her. “Do you need help?”
She took his hand, standing up. It took her a moment to let go of it. She fetched her apple basket from the ground and managed a wan smile. “Thank you again.”
“You are always welcome,” shrugged Merry.
The next thing Merry felt were Estella’s slightly chapped lips on his cheek. Merry gasped. He vaguely heard Pippin shrieking gleefully in the background, but it hardly registered. When he came to his senses, Estella was dashing away, a streaking arrow through the apple trees.
“Why, that was the most masculine thing I ever did see you do!” Pippin chirped, clapping Merry on the shoulder. “Good job!”
“... Pip.” He drew a breath. “Tell me, Pip, did that really just…”
“You caught her! And then she hugged and kissed you!” Pippin jumped in a circle around Merry. “And that’s Fatty Bolger’s sister and everything, so you can see her whenever you want for more kisses!”
“One favor, one kiss.”
“Well, you saved her brother and broke her fall, so that’s two kisses she now owes you, by that logic.”
Merry touched his cheek. “... Her lips are so soft. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wash this cheek again--I want this feeling to stay forever. Have you ever kissed a girl, Pip?”
“Once or twice, I think,” Pippin said. “It was not as fantastic as you are making it seem.”
“You can’t kiss while drunk--it dulls your senses.” Merry slung his bag of apples over his shoulder. “Would you like to go eat some of these apples? Stri--ah, King Elessar sent me a packet of cinnamon sticks.”
“Does a bear toilet in the woods? Of course I want apples and cinnamon!” Pippin grinned.
“Come. Buckland is not far. I brought a pony and cart, so we don’t have to walk with our apples on our backs.” He beckoned Pippin along, and the two walked away from the apple grove, bags full of fruit on their backs.