“Are you all right, Merry?”
Merry nodded, swallowing hard. He felt terrible, actually. The effects of the sickness still clung to him and he had to lean heavily on Freddy’s arm. But Freddy didn’t say anything more. He didn’t try to argue with Merry about being here, only gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Freddy had been the one to get Merry here today. He’d helped him out of bed and into some clothes. Merry was grateful to his friend--his brother--and he was grateful the sickness had missed the Bolger’s farm.
Celandine stood on Merry’s other side, sniffling into her handkerchief. They were the only immediate family here. The boys were still too weak, and their Granny Bolger had stayed with them. Ivy and Pippin’s family were safe at Crickhollow, thank the Valar. Merry had forbidden anyone from going near Crickhollow until this sickness was gone. Freddy had volunteered to ride out there in a day or two. They needed to know...
Merry flinched when the first clod of dirt was dropped into the grave. Each scrape of the spade cutting into the loose soil was like a cut into his heart. How would he live without Estella?