By: Dana
Summary: In four drabbles, a progression from start to the end.
Characters: Merry (with mention of others)
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: For Marigold's challenge #19.
I had to incorporate four elements into my story – an irate Merry, a Morgul blade, Isengard, and any Healer – not only did I write this, but I also did "Beneath A Dark Sky".
Beta by Lindelea – thank you, my dear.
Nominated at the 2006 MEFAs.

Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

September 25th – Crickhollow

Merry rode, and the moon cast its light, and all the mist about him seemed to glow. The sound of his pony's steps was a steady clop clop in the night, and the damp was creeping in, though Merry had bundled himself before he'd gone out to ride. Still, he'd yet to find Frodo or Pippin (or even Sam), and he wondered what bothered him more – the wet and the darkness or his two cousins, missing. More than likely, it would be the last.

He was hungry, and perhaps he'd have more luck finding his way back to the house.

October 6th – Weathertop

It seemed the moon was devoured as terror came over him – and before Merry knew what fit had struck him, he threw himself to the ground. He was only dimly aware of Pippin doing likewise at his side, and he knew only earth and darkness as he lay there, stilled. And it was quiet. Too quiet. As though time had caught on itself and stopped.

Until there was a cry, and it was clear and distant all in one: O Elbereth! Gilthoniel! And then there was a high piercing shriek.

But still Merry couldn't find strength to lift his gaze.

March 5th – Isengard

He thought of the darkness, and of the damp, and the chill of moonless air. But the day was warm, now, and Merry felt mostly at ease. Pippin was sleeping, like he hadn't in Merry couldn't tell how long, and all about them Isengard seemed at – peace. Saruman still hid in his tower, but the Ents had been at their work. The Isen had been returned to its proper flow. The stench of evil had been washed from this place.

Merry let his pipe hang from his mouth, and leaned back against a boulder. It would be a good day.

March 29th – Cormallen

It was not night, but still it seemed that the chill of darkness lingered in the air – and the sun was low enough in the eastern sky that the moon still might have hung opalescent in the west. When the scent of athelas washed over him, he blinked against the gloom that seemed to hang in the candlelit tent. There Aragorn knelt, and Merry wondered if he watched something in dream.

He might have been still and pale as stone, but it was Pippin whose brow was bound with stark linen. And Merry wanted only to reach for his hand.