Prolouge
Humming off-key to himself, Dobby sat down with a new buncle of yarn and his knitting pins, which were way too big for the house elf-they had been designed for humans. But tonight, something was different. Dobby had found a peculiar shaped package by his sleeping mat. Resting the elongated box on his knees, Dobby's eyes grew wider as he ripped off the paper. It looked rather like a wand box. "Oh, no, no, no. Dobby's not supposed to have one of these." he whispered to himself, glancing around. Lifting carefully at the lid, he took a peek. "A. crochet hook? Fun!" Grasping the hook by the handle, he pulled it out, eagerly beginning to examine his new toy. It was only a minute before Dobby felt the sudden gut-wrenching tug, his last shriek fading away in the empty kitchen.
* * *
Times were happy in Middle-Earth. Sauron was dead, for good this time, and the Ring destroyed. And there was one little hobbit that was especially pleased. "I gots it! I gots it! Another fish for Smeagol!" Smeagol leaped onto the bank, taking his prize with him. Gollum had died with the Ring, and Smeagol had retired to a little old cave near a stream-with a steady supply of new fish and other 'delicacies'. Scrambling into the semi-darkness of his cave, the hobbit grabbed a nearby rock and tore at the salmon clutched in his grasp. "Yummy." THUMP! CRASH!
Humming off-key to himself, Dobby sat down with a new buncle of yarn and his knitting pins, which were way too big for the house elf-they had been designed for humans. But tonight, something was different. Dobby had found a peculiar shaped package by his sleeping mat. Resting the elongated box on his knees, Dobby's eyes grew wider as he ripped off the paper. It looked rather like a wand box. "Oh, no, no, no. Dobby's not supposed to have one of these." he whispered to himself, glancing around. Lifting carefully at the lid, he took a peek. "A. crochet hook? Fun!" Grasping the hook by the handle, he pulled it out, eagerly beginning to examine his new toy. It was only a minute before Dobby felt the sudden gut-wrenching tug, his last shriek fading away in the empty kitchen.
* * *
Times were happy in Middle-Earth. Sauron was dead, for good this time, and the Ring destroyed. And there was one little hobbit that was especially pleased. "I gots it! I gots it! Another fish for Smeagol!" Smeagol leaped onto the bank, taking his prize with him. Gollum had died with the Ring, and Smeagol had retired to a little old cave near a stream-with a steady supply of new fish and other 'delicacies'. Scrambling into the semi-darkness of his cave, the hobbit grabbed a nearby rock and tore at the salmon clutched in his grasp. "Yummy." THUMP! CRASH!