The idea of this fic came about when my mom saw the EE of Rotk, and saw Merry say “And many who love you…” and she said “Does he like her?” and…so..yeah…my thought train…interesting, no? Point is…there is nothing meant to be explicit in this fic, but on CoE, they are STRICT..and need to be. But, please, don’t take offense to any of this..it is meant to symbolize the outcome of too much emotion at once. This is my first ever fic, so be gentle..and…enjoy!

The cool morning was dawning over the camped-out riders. The army of the Rohirrim were laying about on the grass, still groggy, not wanting to move from the only comfortable spot they were able to find in the night. Still, the horn rang out clearly, and all were summoned from their beds of earth, prompted by honor to climb atop their horses, and looking into the morning sun, their thoughts rested heavily on Gondor…and what awaited them there. Among the weary horsemen, were two who did not belong. Meriadoc Brandybuck, of the Shire, and Lady Eowyn, of Rohan. Together, they had kept warm during the night, and their presence had luckily gone unnoticed. Each determined to fight for the people they loved, they had made the journey together from Edoras, to Dunharrow, to the vast plains they rested in , only hours ago. Though they both had a lot to think about, now that they had gotten themselves into this…it was young master Merry, whose thoughts were deepest.

Merry knew he was only a hobbit, a shireling, barely reaching Eowyn’s waist….yet he, despite himself, had become attracted to her. In the few days he had spent with her, her glowing hair, fair skin, and unbreakable will had seduced him…and he found himself worrying about his appearance to the sheildmaiden…even more than about his friends…wherever they were.

Merry stood quickly at the sound of the horn, pulling on his helmet, smoothing the hair on the side as nonchalantly as he could. Wrapping his cloak about his shoulders, he drew himself up to full height, which, much to his dismay, made Eowyn giggle. The sight of the little hobbit standing so ridiculously…quite laughable.
“How tall you’ve gotten, Merry!” giggled Eowyn.

‘Hmm…I suppose” mumbled Merry, most downhearted.

Eowyn bent and straightened Merry’s helmet.

“Soon, we will be in Gondor, Merry. War will be rushing upon us…our minds will race…we cannot have tilted helmets, can we?” She smiled at Merry, making him blush and look at the earth under his hairy feet.

“No…” he breathed. Once Eowyn had turned away to load the horse, Merry tilted his helmet again…ever so slightly, in hopes it would prompt Eowyn to adjust it again, allowing him the rush of euphoria at her touch.

The time came to climb atop the noble beasts of the Rohirrim, and ride to Gondor…and to war. Merry’s thoughts, however, could not have been further from the mess they were riding into. His thoughts rested on Eowyn’s arm around his slight frame, holding him close. So close, he could hear her anxious breathing…each breath blowing warmly on Merry’s neck, sending a pleasant rush throughout his body. Eyes closing, Merry lifted his right arm to grab onto Eowyn’s. He could not help but feel sneaky. The long horse ride came finally to an end when the army was only a few miles from the grand city of Minas Tirith.

In a reasonably secluded area, Eowyn helped Merry off the horse, her arm around his waist, she hoisted him out of the saddle. Once on the ground, Merry remembered how short he really was. The men and beasts rested, ate, slept and slowly regained strength. Merry felt miserable. Head in hands, he sat near a large rock, hoping to avoid all contact with Eowyn. But, the maiden of golden hair could not be deterred.

She asked him the inevitable question. “What’s wrong, Merry? You’ve not said a word for days…your not eating either, when you sleep, you are not truly at rest. I am beginning to worry.” She kneeled to level with Merry, who could see the genuine concern in her endless eyes.

Pulling his legs up to his chin and looking to the side at a patch of dying grass, he answered. “Nothing is wrong, dear lady. I have much to think about,” he paused. “I wish I could enjoy the peace..” he whispered solemnly. Looking now at his gloved hands, holding his knees, he continued. “I want to savor this last bit of silence…for all things must end. This quiet will be broken by the cries of war, the voice of the blade cutting through flesh, the song of the arrow as it flies from the string…..war is upon us Eowyn. That is what is truly wrong. I am also quite saddened to know there is a chance I may die. A chance I may never see my friends again…a chance my love for you will never be confessed.” Blushing deeply and wishing he had shut his mouth sooner, Merry looked again at the browning grass.

Eowyn’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in a small gasp. She had known this small, yet mighty warrior for only a few days. Yet together, they had weathered so much. And wise was this Halfling, and fair of face, with piercing eyes, and soft, somewhat inviting lips. She had thought these things of him upon sight, quickly banishing all thoughts of romance long ago, in Edoras. She knew a time when war was imminent, when her people, and the fate of Middle Earth was threatened, she should not linger on thoughts of loving the hobbit. Though beautiful he was, that was all he was. He was after all, a hobbit. Short, and not too inclined to exercise, yet still young, he was not as round as he had the potential to be. He shared her feelings, but still…. A hobbit.

Gathering her thoughts, she acted before she could will herself out of it. Leaning over, she put her hand on the side of Merry’s soft face, which was turned to the right, avoiding her eyes. Turning his head around to face her, she looked, for a moment into his large, blue-gray eyes. Then, leaning over, she placed a feather-light kiss on Merry’s silken lips. Taken aback by her sudden action, Merry could only close his eyes, keep them closed and let out a shuddering gasp when he felt her lips on his. Eowyn thought while doing it, she would regret it, but, strangely, it felt o.k……even right.

Not moving her head from its position of barely inches from Merry’s face, she put another kiss on his welcoming lips, harder this time, with more feeling. Merry reacted this time, pushing his lips against hers, but gently, and caringly. Her emotions now in control, Eowyn slipped her hand behind Merry’s head, resting it on his neck. Pressing her lips on his again, she let slip a small moan, though it sounded uncertain…nothing at the time felt more right. Merry reacted, overjoyed, pushing his lips on hers, harder still. He almost stopped in shock when he felt the tip of Eowyn’s tongue lightly touch his lips. But, he only sighed, and went with the flow of the moment…the one moment race did not matter, nor height, nor anything else that had kept him from her on this trip. For the next hour, it was only Merry, Eowyn, and a secluded spot on the plains surrounding Gondor, city of Kings.

The battle raged, only hours later, and though they became separated several times amid the chaos, Merry and Eowyn found each other. When the fight was won, and the victorious celebrated, after Merry was found by the last person he expected to see , the connection he and Eowyn shared did not matter. In both their minds, that afternoon was a result of pent up and misplaced emotion. Emotion from war, from being so far from home and from knowing there was nothing either of them could do about it. And they both agreed, even if silently, that what ever that afternoon had been, an outlet of emotion, a true display of affection, or the one thing they could control, they both knew it was beautiful.

Time went on and on. Eowyn married Faramir, and Merry had a family of his own, but never did the events of that day reach the ears of anyone. All those involved in the war of the ring had secrets they never told…moments they shared that made them who they were.. that were never spoken of. Sam, Frodo, even Pippin.

They all had their secrets, and Merry had his.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email