Change the Name, but not the Letter
...Change for worse and not for better.
There were flowers everywhere. Bright posies were carried by the bridesmaids and colourful garlands adorned the canvas tent set up to house what would be the food hall at the celebration later. Someone had even thrown little bunches of daisies into the slow-moving Brandywine, the little flowers bobbing along sedately with the current.
People were gathering along the eastern bank of the river in the spring morning, the air crisp with the promise of bright sunshine to come. Overall, an auspicious day for a wedding.
But not everyone was quite so optimistic.
In her room in Brandy Hall, fussing mothers and little flower girls getting in the way, Primula Brandybuck prepared to become Mrs Drogo Baggins. There was giggling and high spirits among the women, aside from one.
'You know the saying,' old widow Rumble said heavily as she passed the soon-to-be bride a hair pin. 'Change the name but not the letter, change for worse and not for better.'
Primula pressed a kiss to the old hobbit's cheek. 'You know that's just superstition,' she said lightly as her mother pinned up her dark curls with dainty bridal roses. 'Nothing ever comes of these silly sayings.'
And the words were forgotten, lost in the memories of vows and smiles and the smell of flowers and good food.
Only one hobbit shook her head knowingly one day fifteen years later when they stood on the very same bank, the lifeless bodies of Drogo and Primula Baggins, née Brandybuck, found tangled in the reeds.
A/N: (I just needed an old hobbit and Widow Rumble fit; she's probably not canonical for this time period. Also I couldn't find when exactly Drogo and Primula were married.)
Also a big thank you to Dreamflower02 for pointing out the problem with timings!
I'm sorry it's kind of depressing! I hope you enjoyed anyway. :)