((Disclaimer: If you're on a site called Fanfiction dot net and expect the characters to be original, then you should seriously get some help. Or learn how to read.

This is originally an RP post, written for a site I just joined but as it's happening outside of the current plot, it's basically mine, and a short story. So I thought I'd put it up here. So here you are. The Lord of the Rings from the point of view of those left at home. It's mainly about The Cotton Family and the Gaffer Gamgee who are often overlooked. Mix of book verse and movie verse. Mostly book verse, though. ))Chapter One: The Green Dragon

"I'm telling you he's dead!"

"Shhhhh his gaffer's right over there!"

"Ah, he's the one who said so in the first place!"

"What about those two up from the northern towns?"

"Eh?"

"You know what's-his-name-Brandybuck and the Took lad."

"Ah, I'd say the same thing."

"Who was that fellow what says they've gone and on and moved?"

"Bolger…Bolger. Ah I can't remember! You know- round fellow. Curly hair."

"Ah well that narrows it down, now doesn't it?"

Rosie stood in her spot behind the counter, her ears eager to listen but her heart less than enthusiastic.

Only a year ago she had taken a job at the infamous Green Dragon.

It was an uncommon practice for one whose family already had a trade to be involved in such things, but since her gammer had hurt her arm and not been able to weave anymore, they'd needed the extra income. Besides, she'd been more than happy to oblige. Why, any hobbit who knew anything had the sense to know that no matter what happened in what corner of what farthing, it would be talked about in The Dragon. She was glad to hear what she could, especially when it was regarding lads and lasses who she knew. Besides that, she enjoyed the company. For the Cottons were farmers and without any other sisters that meant that Rosie would be left alone during the day while her brothers and father worked the fields and her mother went to the Bywater Market. But now that there was nothing to sell, Gammer Cotton took most responsibilities of the home once more, and gave her daughter to The Dragon until she could learn to weave properly.

Were it not for such things or for the company of those who came to the pub, she'd have perhaps been much more sorrowful as of late. But so long as there were always folk around her, she could keep herself distracted with keeping them distracted.

"Rosie lass!" called Longo Foxburr from a table close to the bar "Come over and sing us a song! And bring some ale while you're at it!"

"Neh, I can't sing a copper's worth! You know that!"

"Maybe!" cried the Foxburr "But you pour more when you're worryin about us listenin to yeh!"

"Ah!" called Rosie "You bring your own glass up here and I'll pour it for you! Ain't no way I can carry a barrel that far!"

"Then bring us some wine!"

"Who's paying?"

But Longo shook his head and laughed "Cantcha convince someone to pay it? Use them feminine charms!"

"I would but yours are so much better!"

The two hobbits who sat with Longo laughed. The first was Olo Grub the farmer's son, while the second was Ponto Proudfoot who worked at the Bywater Mill.

"Come on, then! Stop hassling Miss Rosie! Get us some ale, or sing us a song yerself!" cried Olo.

"Yeh, Mr. Longo!" Rosie laughed, knowing that the hobbit was fair of throat "Sing us a song!"

"Alright, alright," The Foxburr feigned modesty "I'll do the tale of Dearie and Emerald! Give me some help, Rosie lass! Do Emerald's part!"

"Only if you want to go deaf!"

"Neh, you're not that bad!"

"Only bad enough to waken the dead!"

The surrounding group roared with laughter at Ponto's remark, yet for a moment Rosie seemed disturbed.

Only bad enough to waken the dead.

But after a pause, she grinned and slapped her polishing cloth down on the counter, pretending to look angry as she moved to stand near the three other hobbits.

"Come take a sit!" Longo laughed, patting his lap "There's a spot here just for you."

"Neh, I don't sit with customers. Let alone on them!"

"I was only jokin, don't take me seriously, lass!" he shook his head "I'm respectable, remember?"

"Yeh, not even we believe that!" cried Ponto as he finished off the rest of his ale.

"Come on!" Olo grinned "Let's hear you two sing!"

"Ladies first." Rosie smiled as she looked at Longo.

He bowed and stood up upon his chair

"Oh Daerie sits so far and shy
Along the farthest corner
He hides from Em'rald's watchful eye
And's glad he isn't closer"

And here a few others came in, singing in gruff voices:

"Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra Too-ra-la-ra
Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra

Too-ra-la-ra"

Rosie then came in, hardly singing so much as speaking, for she was embarrassed of her voice.

"Oh sweetie lass does just the same
And stares at Dearie's table
But unlike he she wants to see
And gaze upon her angel"

"Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra Too-ra-la-ra
Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra

Too-ra-la-ra"

And here Rosie smiled, leaning in close to the table and grinning as sweetly as she could manage.

"Oh Dearie won't you dance with me?
Says little Em'rald lassie"

But Longo shook his head

"He sniffs his nose and wiggles his toes
And answers to her fiercely"

"Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra Too-ra-la-ra
Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra

Too-ra-la-ra"

"Oh never will I dance with you
Oh little Em'rald lassie
For I am sixty years of age
And you are only twenty!"

"Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra Too-ra-la-ra
Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra

Too-ra-la-ra

Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra Too-ra-la-ra
Too-ra-la-ra-la-ra-la-ra
Ra-la-ra

Too-ra-la-ra"

Ponto, Olo and a few others applauded, though most (mainly the older gaffers and gammers) paid no heed.

"I like that ending!" Rosie said with an affirming nod "Much better than the one I know.

"Whyum, how does yours end?"

"Oh never will I dance with you
Oh little Em'rald dearie
For in my heart I have a lass
So round and fair and pretty" answered Rosie, reciting the lines rather than singing them.

"Ah, I like my ending too." Said Longo "Again we're in agreement. We agree on a lot of things."

"Oh?"

"Yeh, like how I deserve some more ale."

"Try again."

"Worth a shot."

Rosie laughed, returning to her spot at the bar "Alright, lads, finish up yer drinks it's long past midnight!"

"Awww come on now. You'll send me home without another glass?"

"It's the only way you'll get home! If I give you any more- dragons and fiddlesticks! You'll be getting yerself lost!"

"Fine, fine" Longo pretended to sulk "Olo, my lad, how about a sip of yers?"

But Olo shook his head and grinned "Nah, not a chance."

"Alright, alright." Longo said, getting up and brushing some crumbs off of his trousers. He walked over to the bar and laid his glass upon it, speaking quieter now "Come, lass, what do I have to do for another glass?"

"Since when has it been so important to you?" Rosie asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable "It's only a glass. I'm sure you have some ale at home. Sides, I'd be glad to give you some if you'd only pay."

Longo flinched for a moment and then smiled strangely "Alright, alright.." And he turned away, hesitating for a second before looking back at her "…tell me, Rosie lass, are you happy at all with yer job here?"

Rosie was quiet for a while, unsure of where the question came from. She nodded "Yes, quite. Why?"

"It's only that…that Lotho Baggins has been talkin about changes."

"Changes?"

"Yeh, if he gets his way, then there'll be a lot of jobs. If you're interested I could-"

But Rosie shook her head. Her family had known Mr. Frodo and respected him. He was a gentlehobbit. And whatsmore, he had always been kind to her Sam. In her mind, Lotho was not the rightful master of Bag End, and she would never want to help him in anything nor owe him anything.

"No thanks, love. I'm afraid I'll have to decline." She said.

"Why's that?"

"I'm happy here."

"You're happy with what's old." He said "I can tell you that there's no future in this. Sure, you're happy now, but just think! Mr Baggins has got visions for The Shire. If all turns out well, everyone'll be wealthy enough to live in them new wood houses."

"Why should I want to live in one of those? Too cold if you ask me."

"Neh. You only say that cause you're used to the old homes- that's what you grew up with. I'm tellin you if you would just-"

"And I'm telling you, I want who- what I grew up with, because it's what's best."

"It's a shame you're so foolish sometimes. I just thought I'd help you. You're one of my dear lasses, you know!"

But Rosie shook her head. His words disturbed her, though she did not want to protest for she could not really grasp a reason why she should.

"You're wasting your kindness on me. Sorry, Mr. Longo."

"Eh, you'll come around." He laughed, waving her away and turning around "I know you, Rosie lass, you'll come around!"

"Mr Olo, Mr Ponto!" she called, "You see Mr Longo home for me. Make sure he doesn't get hurt! I think maybe he had a bit too much to drink- he's not acting like himself."

And Rosie and Longo watched each other, saying nothing but burning with a hidden kind of frustration. It seemed even to Olo and Ponto who had heard the conversation that it was an odd reaction from the both of them. But there was so much more that was said in that minute than they really understood or knew.