A WEE BIT OF FALLOHIDE

The Bolger clan were a practical lot. Prior to the establishment of Buckland, their land was closest to the Brandywine, and the Shire's first line of defence against invaders from the east. Their ancestry included Fallohide blood, so they were supposed to be taller, fairer and bolder than other clans.

Fredegar considered that bold Fallohide blood rather dilute in his case. Not for him, the dangerous trek across Eriador, pursued by Black Riders. Then Fredegar Bolger surprised himself. When faced with danger he ran, but not before bravely raising the alarm. Perhaps he was a wee bit Fallohidish after all.

END

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BAG END BEASTIES

Bell stomped upon a particularly large spider which, disturbed from the rafters by her sweeping brush, had been scurrying for safety beneath Mister Bilbo's dresser, the percussive sound drawing startled looks from Daisy and Sam Gamgee.

Their mother sniffed, as she swept up the remains of her hapless victim. "All them roof rafters and the like look pretty enough, but tis clear the Baggins family have always paid folk like us to clean 'em."

Daisy and Sam smiled, returning to polishing the parlour window. Although Ma's opinions on 'good, plain, hobbit homes' was one oft expressed, she loved Bag End.

END

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Elves sang trees to sentience. Could they do the same with building stones?

GRANITE MEMORY

I remember becoming.

We were whole.

There was pain.

Then I was I.

Metal picked like water and ice.

I was less but I was still I.

I was joined with others; part of a whole again … a different whole.

We were strong together.

There was being.

Less than before the becoming.

Being was good and then came the soft ones.

Fleeting, their touch; singing of things beyond our knowing.

We became more together.

Hard and soft. Ancient and old.

Then came the fading.

The unmaking.

Sleeping.

"Hey, Joe. This stone looks dressed. Told you these looked like foundations."

END

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HOBBITON HILL

As the highest point in Hobbiton, many considered Bungo rather pretentious for building his grand smial atop the hill, but Farmer Cotton scoffed, pointing out that he received a good price. Tom had only used it for spare sheep pasture.

Opinions shifted when Mister Baggins also built three workers smials, rented out at very reasonable rates. They came complete with a shared privy, wash house, and later, workshop, barn and pigstye. Bagshot Row became a desirable address for the poorer folk of Hobbiton.

The Baggins' reputation faltered with Bilbo, but never among those fortunate enough to live in Bagshot Row.

END

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SILENCE HOPED FOR

"How long before the river subsides, do you think?" Gandalf matched Elrond's ground eating stride, as they returned to the house.

"An hour perhaps. A group of my household rides to meet them."

Gandalf had guessed at a silent exchange when Elrond's gaze grew distant. At the courtyard entrance, they leapt aside as a group of riders sped past, trailing several spare mounts. "Do they know what Frodo carries."

"I deemed silence the wiser course at present. Some here are ancient and powerful warriors."

"Then let us hope that the Ring also chooses to remain silent."

END