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Sudden business had taken Blian to a separate destination, so it was Durein that brought the hobbits into the 'hobbit' section of the temporary refugee camp.

She waved a hand at the throng of hobbits that were doing what they could to set up comfortable quarters for them and their kin. All were weary and heartbroken, as only those that had lost everything could be. "This is where the hobbits from the outlying villages came when the Orcs attacked. It will be tomorrow before we can start moving them into more permanent quarters inside the fortress itself."

Sam looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, being dumbfounded by the number of hobbits in the small courtyard. He had always been a slightly clumsy, awkward hobbit that never really felt he fit in with his peers. The sight of so many new faces unnerved him.

"Over here, you will be given food," and she gestured at the tents that already had patrons in line. "What we still have to spare is not much, but I suppose it's better than going without," Durein added, and then folded her lips into a straight line.

Times were, before the raids, her father's and Master Blian's table was laden with more food than could be eaten by a hundred hobbits. Now it was a struggle to feed the 75 or so hobbit lads, lasses, and children still alive. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She sighed again, the back of her neck was gritty, she got the feeling the dirt and gore wasn't ever going to come off.

"It will be wonderful, whatever there is to eat. I'm sure it will be better than the food we've had to eat during our travels," Frodo said truthfully, eyeing the steaming caldrons of soup and golden loaves of bread. Lembas was filling, but rather bland. It would be a rare treat to eat something with flavor.

"Aye, missus, we're grateful for whatever you have to spare," Sam agreed. His mouth was watering at the aroma wafting his way. He was sure nothing could beat the cooking back home, but as his Gaffer would say "When you don't have anything, take what you can get." Temporarily, the sight of so many unfamiliar hobbits was forgotten once his stomach took over the thinking.

"MOMMA!" a childish squeal was heard only seconds before a small bundle of energy slammed into Durein. Behind the blur, an elderly hobbit lass trudged, a look of infinite patience on her time worn face.

Picking the hobbit child up, Durein soundly kissed him on the cheek and turned to face Isliene. "Wouldn't stay put, would he?"

"Nay, he's stubborn, just as his mother was at that age. And as stubborn as his mother still is, if I may say so."

A wrinkled up nose and a smile was the only answer to that statement and then Durein turned to face her two newest charges.

"Master Frodo Baggins, Master Samwise Gamgee, I would like to introduce you to my son, Teren," Durein said, pride evident in her voice. "Teren, can you say hello to the gentlehobbits?"

In response, Teren wound his fingers into his mother's long braid and burrowed his face into the side of her neck.

Durein chuckled, "He's usually not this shy. Give him time to become accustomed to you, then he'll talk constantly."

"Momma, you smell bad," Teren said, his voice muffled since his face was still against her neck. "Need a bath!" He looked up at her then, pinching his pert little nose closed with his pudgy thumb and first finger. "Dirty!" He proclaimed, using his other hand to wipe at the stains on her tunic.

"So I do and so I am! I haven't had time to be clean and smell sweet like you have," Durein laughed, catching his hand and kissing the palm. She could see Frodo and Samwise's shoulder's shaking with suppressed laughter and their attempt at hiding large smiles behind their hands. For the second time that day a blush crept up her throat and darkened her already warm cheeks.

Isliene took Teren from her and was wearing a deep frown…that almost always meant she was trying to dampen a smile. "You shouldn't speak so to your mother. Come, its time for your supper, willful child. Mistress, as soon as you are able, please come to your rooms. I will draw you the bath Teren says you need so badly." A faintest hint of a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth.

"I will do so, and thank you, Isliene. Teren, mind Mistress Isliene and I'll be up to see you before you go to sleep."

"Tell me a story then, momma? About the dragons and soldiers and the princess?" Teren asked, huge dark brown eyes pleading with her.

Durein smiled into the eyes and face so like her own. "Yes, a story about the dragons, soldiers, and the princess. Only if you mind Mistress Isliene and are good." She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to Teren's lips. The fat little hand waved goodbye and Isliene took Teren back into the fortress.

"Lad reminds me of Pippin, when he was younger, he does," Sam observed, "Only Pippin's hair is brown instead of black."

"Yes, he does," Frodo, agreed, smiling fondly. His thoughts often strayed to Merry, Pippin, and the rest of the Fellowship, wondering if things were going well with them.

"Pippin?" Durein asked.

"A cousin of Mr. Frodo's. We were traveling together for awhile, then we had to part company."

"I see," she said and nodded. There was more to that than a simple parting of company, of that she was certain, but now was not the time to press for answers. There would be time for that later. "I apologize for the interruption my son caused. He is indeed a stubborn child, much as his mother is, just as Isliene said."

"As I was saying, before Teren arrived, you will be able to receive food from that tent. A little further down there is a place for clean garments and bedding if you have none. We also have a part of the courtyard sectioned off where you can bathe if you wish. As for where to sleep, I'm afraid anywhere you can find a bare patch of earth will have to do. Again, I apologize for what little we have to offer." Durein folded her hands across her stomach and shifted her shoulders inside the stiff, itchy tunic. Hopefully soon she would be able to partake in a bath herself and to change garments.

Frodo reached out and grasped one of her hands. Looking intently into her eyes he said, "What you have offered is more than enough. We are thankful for your kindness and are in your debt."

Sam stepped forward and taking her other hand nodded his thanks. Words were also something he wasn't good at. He started a little at the feeling of the small, rough hand in his own. It was a nice feeling, but he let go of her hand quickly, nonetheless. 'Samwise, don't you be getting any ideas in yer thick head. You have a job to do, lookin' after Mr. Frodo. Don't be gettin' distracted.'

Durein was having thoughts along the same lines; a warm weakness was in the pit of her stomach at the touch of the calloused, warm hand in hers. The directness of his gaze, the sincerity and kindness shown there was hypnotizing. She was half glad, half upset when Samwise dropped her hand. She really wasn't sure why she reacted like that to a simple touch.

"I…if you will both excuse me, I have a few things that must be taken care of before nightfall. I will leave you both to get settled. If you need anything, please send one of the volunteers about to find me. I will do what I can to help you," Durein stated, telling herself that she wasn't running…and she wasn't lying exactly. There were things she had to attend to, and Samwise had nothing to do with her suddenly needing to leave.

Frodo watched Sam watching Durein walk back into the fortress. That was interesting.

"So, Sam, let's pick out a spot for the night, then see about dinner," Frodo began, taking his arm and steering Sam away from where he was rooted and towards an empty spot at the courtyard wall. While leading Sam to the designated spot, he wondered how to broach the subject about their newest benefactor. It turns out he didn't have to.

"You've met the Mistress Durein then, have you?" a pleasant hobbit lass asked. Her attention was divided between the pair making themselves at home next to her 'camp', and the brood of children playing nearby. "Kind of her to take everyone in, what with all that's on her plate right now. Not many would have done it, leader of us all or no."

"Very kind of her to take us in, I agree," Frodo said, unshouldering his pack and rummaging to find an extra blanket to sit on. Sam looked like he wanted to say something but only unshouldered his own pack and flopped on the ground instead.

"Pansy! Here now! Don't pull on your brother's ears! That's not lady like! If I have to tell you one more time to stop, you're going to come sit by me!" the apparent mother of the 8 or 9 children in the brood shouted.

Frodo rubbed his ear where he caught the full blast of the reprimand; maybe this wasn't such a good spot to camp after all. It appeared that no matter what part of Middle Earth you were in, some things about hobbit mothers never changed.

"Like I was saying, the Mistress has been very busy of late, what with her father being killed an all. Such a young thing to have to take on the responsibility of the whole providence with no husband to help her."

Sam quickly looked up at the mention of 'no husband', and then looked at Frodo. It was unheard of for a hobbit lass to have a child out of wedlock. Just how different were things here from the Shire? Frodo spread his hands out in front of him in a gesture that said he was as puzzled as Sam. For a strange reason though, the fact that Durein was unmarried made Sam a little glad.

Salvia in the mean time let lose another blast at her children. "Aladagrim, stop punching your sister in the shoulder! Do you not want supper tonight?"

"The Mistress," Sam hesitantly began, twisting a part of the blanket around his finger, "She's not married?"

"No! A widow now she is. Husband died before her little one was born. Sad thing to hear, even out where I lived. You didn't hear about all that in your village?" Salvia asked, giving them a queer look. It was the topic of gossip for weeks when the sad story had circulated through her town. Many wondered if she would remarry quickly to give her son a father, but so far she remained obstinately on her own. It wasn't because there weren't eligible hobbits around, there were plenty; she just wouldn't marry again for whatever reason.

"No, I'm afraid not. I believe we must have lived farther out on the borders than you did, apparently," Frodo said, making a huge understatement.

"Apparently," Salvia said, not entirely convinced. The curious part of her perked up its head then. "So, my lads, where are you from, exactly? What are you're names? My name's Salvia, in case you're wondering." It would be nice to have a nice tidbit of gossip about the new arrivals to slip in the next time she saw her friends.

"We…we're from the west, the way west. I'm Frodo and this is my friend Sam. What happened to her father exactly?" Frodo asked, trying to distract her away from asking too many questions about him and Sam.

"Her father was killed in one of the raids the Orcs made. Terrible thing, I heard. One big brute knocked him from his horse, and then beat him about a bit before finally killing him. Devastated the lass when she heard, all they could bring back of her father was the ring of office he wore. Pretty silver band she wears around her neck, you'll see it if you look hard enough. After her father fell, she took up the sword in her father's stead and led the soldiers into battle. Routed them off too, she did, wouldn't think it by looking at her she would be able to do that."

'Well, Samwise,' he thought, 'You were wonderin' why she had blood on her, guess it's plain now. Poor lass, losin' her father and then havin' to fight Orcs off her doorstep all in one stroke.' Sam still had his mother and ol' Gaffer back home, least wise he did when he left. He couldn't begin imagine what it was like to not have either of them there waiting on him to come back.





Frodo's hand crept to the golden band around his own neck, an eerie feeling making his hair stand on end. Two rings…two burdens that neither wanted to wear. He wondered if she found her ring as hard to bear as he did at times.

"Mr. Frodo, if yer not mindin', I think we should get some food before it gets much later in the evenin'. It's been a long time since we ate last, and you need to keep up yer strength," Sam broke in, seeing Frodo's hand close around the ring. Better to keep his mind off the thing and on more pleasant things---like food.

"Yes, of course, Sam. Please, if you will excuse us," Frodo said as he rose from the blanket.

"Sure enough. Better to get up there before my children get in line, won't be much left after they go through."

Sam peeked again at the small army of hobbit children and decided that it would not be a bad idea at all.

~~tbc~~

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