Disclaimer- LOTR is not mine. This story and all characters Tolkien didn't mention are mine.
A/N- Hello again! I know, I know, my posting has been- shall we say sporadic? I never know exactly when I will find a chapter is finished, I try to be quick but also make it a good story. Oh, and if any of you were wondering- this is NOT going to become solely a romance story. Romance is not even going to be one of the main themes. There will be some romance, but not a lot (and certainly nothing above PG). On that note, please enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 9- Of Recoveries and Surprises
'Ninnyhammer, ninnyhammer,' Tru thought again as he walked back through the dark copse. He had not been much surprised to find his father leaning against a tree by the Brandywine, still holding his fishing rod and snoring loudly. It had taken a while of Tru alternately shaking and calling his father's name before the young hobbit lost his already strained temper. "WAKE UP!"
"Huh-what? Tru? No need to shout, m'boy, I'm wide awake. What's your trouble?"
Tru told him about Theo's illness, and, as with the cooks, Cousin Tunneler had been alarmed. After gathering the bucket of fish and his rod, the older hobbit ran toward Brandy Hall at a fair clip. "Slow down, Pa," Tru panted. "The healer said brullia wasn't that bad of a disease."
"Brullia?" said Cousin Tunneler, stopping abruptly and causing Tru to nearly crash into him. "Look out there, lad. Did you say young Master Theo has brullia?"
"Aye."
"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Here I thought the boy was mortal sick, and all he's got is brullia."
Tru's eyes widened in astonishment. "You've heard of it before?"
"I should say so. You probably don't remember it, but once half of the young hobbits in the Great Smials had it- and all at the same time! You had it, so did Dandelion Took- you remember her, don't you?"
Tru was glad in the partial dark his father could not see his unusually pink ears. "Yeah."
"She's here, y'know." Half-chuckling, Tunneler turned to his son. "Now, I don't want the pair of you fighting like cats an' dogs, got me?"
"Of course not, Pa- we're not teenagers anymore."
Now Cousin Tunneler was leading the way out of the trees, and still Tru repeated to himself, 'Ninnyhammer, ninnyhammer.'
'See,' said that voice from before. 'I told you that you liked her.'
"Oh, shut up," Tru growled in response.
"What was that you said, Tru?"
"Nothing, Pa, nothing."
Upon reaching the hall, Cousin Tunneler disappeared to the kitchens with his fish. Tru wandered aimlessly for a while, half hoping to run into Dandelion and the other half desperately wishing not to. He decided to see if he could find out if Theo's health had improved and ambled through the complex hallways of the smial until he reached the passage with Theo's room. Had he been looking where he was going, his ears would have changed their color, but as it was he did not see the hobbit lasses peeping into the door of the younger hobbit's room until he ran into them.
Dandelion turned, the sharp remark on the tip of her tongue quickly swallowed as she realized who it was. "Oh! Tru! Where-what are you doing here?"
His ears making up for their delay in color change tenfold, Tru replied, "I was just, er, seeing if Theo was any better."
Noticing that Dandelion was too flustered to say anything, Poppy answered, "Mrs. Hazelwood just got back with some medicines for him. She took some leaves out of her bag and put them on the fire. They smell really nice, sort of foreign and familiar all at the same time. That's why we were looking in, to see if we could figure out what they are." A low bark from their feet made the three look down. "Oh, yes, she made Scamp leave the room. 'It's not good for animals to be around children when they're sick,' she said."
"Come here, boy," Theo said, relieved to have found a distraction from his confusing thoughts. The puppy obediently walked to the young hobbit who had been his owner and Tru picked him up. "I'll take care of Scamp while Theo can't, if that's all right," he offered.
"I'm sure that will be fine," replied Poppy. Dandelion nodded wordlessly.
"I'll- be in my room." Tru turned on his heel, walked down the hall to his room, and entered, shutting the door behind him.
"That went well," said Poppy as she looked sideways at Dandelion, now blushing furiously. "You actually managed to talk to him."
* * *
And for a few days, that was how it went: Dandelion and Poppy constantly checking up on Theo, who grew progressively healthier, while Tru tried to avoid Dandelion altogether. On the few occasions they did meet- usually when Tru checked on the youngest hobbit- both would stare at each awkwardly, then mumble a greeting and hurry on to a newly remembered task. Poppy coaxed Dandelion to do more than just say 'hi' to Tru, but the young Took felt that was the limit of her vocabulary whenever the boy was around. As to Tru, his thoughts were still an enormous mess and he did his best to ignore them. The most relieving thing that was happening was Theo's steady recovery.
"Ugh, more soup?" the lad whined pitifully. Eomer nodded regretfully.
"Sorry, son. Mrs. Hazelwood's orders. It's mushroom soup," he added, as if that would make up for the fact that so far, soup- and bowls of it- was all the patient could have.
"When I get healthy again, I'm never, never eating soup. For the rest of my life."
"We'll see about that," Dandelion said as she walked into the room, followed by Poppy. Both smiled at the sight of the Brandybuck's scowl, glad he was finally awake and feeling well enough to do so.
"Father, can't I get out of bed? I don't even have a fever."
"No."
"Please?" Theo spoke pleadingly.
"Now, Theo, you heard Mrs. Hazelwood. No getting out of bed for at least--"
"A week. I know. But I don't feel bad at all, Father, really."
Eomer sighed and turned to Dandelion, his son's favorite cousin. "Dandy-lass, can you get some sense into him?"
"Oh, Theo." Dandelion sat on the bed next to where he sat, propped up by pillows. She ruffled his curls fondly. "There's nothing we'd like more than for you to be able to get up, but we'd rather you be in bed against your will for a while than you getting sick again. Surely you can see that, my silly cousin?"
Blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes, Theo leaned back in resignation. "All right, fine. But no more than a week!"
Dandelion winked at Poppy. "Of course. One week from tomorrow, you can be out of bed."
"What?!"
* * *
Barely two miles from the joking hobbits, a dark figure, easily twice the size of any of the hobbits, sped on a fast horse toward Buckland. A cold wind suddenly slapped his face, and he shivered involuntarily and pulled the hood of his cloak more securely about him. Though the land around him was filled with hills- unnaturally so, he thought- now and again when horse and rider crested one he could see an ancient looking forest and the sparkle of the sun's reflection on water. He knew this would be where he would find the halflings.
Another stinging wind, a reminder that autumn was nearly upon this land, struck him. He sighed. To keep his mind off the growing cold, he repeated his instructions. Upon reaching the boundaries of the land of the little folk- the Shire, he remembered the king had called it- he was sure to be stopped by the halflings' border patrol. He was to tell them he needed to see at least one of the king's Counselors in the North-kingdom*. If none were there, he would wait until they could be found. He was not to tell any of the halflings his news before them.
The thought of the grievous news he bore filled him with sorrow. Not that he had really known the Lord Faramir; he was only an errand runner of Gondor, not one of the more important people in the kingdom at all. Still, as with all of the subjects of the South-kingdom*, the death of the steward* had hit him hard. The lord Faramir had been steward for all of this young man's life and for all the lives of most of the other citizens of Gondor. He could hardly believe it himself, and now he not only had to believe it but tell it to these halflings who had actually known Faramir.
He sighed again and peered up at the sun that was scarcely to be seen through the thick cloud cover. Past lunch time, he thought. His stomach gave a loud rumble and he urged his horse to go faster. Surely these halflings would have some food for a weary traveler? The majority of his supplies had been ruined a few days before when a bridge he had been riding across collapsed. He had been hard pressed to escape with his life and his horse, much less his food. Fortunately, the valuable scroll with the king's message to his subjects in the north had not been damaged. The young errand runner was glad that the queen had the foresight to put her husband's message in an Elvish waterproof satchel. Too bad he had not put his stores in it as well, but it was no use crying over spilt milk, as his mother was prone to say. Besides, he was nearly in the halflings' land and they could not deny him some food, now could they?
The sun shone with little warmth on the black speck of the man and horse, now less than a mile from the border of the Shire.
* * *
Rolo Reeds was not used to being as bored as he was now. The hobbit had held the misconception that being a Bounder would be a thrilling job, filled with fighting off orcs, wargs, and worse as daily tasks. When he confessed this thought to his father, Rogo, the older hobbit could hardly breathe from suppressed laughter. Rogo had been a Bounder for a great deal more time than his son, and the most trouble he had seen was a group of drunken hobbits.
'What I wouldn't give for some excitement,' Rolo mused as he gazed over the gate marking Buckland's border to the road beyond. Hardly had the thought crossed his mind than excitement came charging at him, in the form of a great black horse carrying a tall figure, cloaked in black. "Pa," Rolo said slowly, then more urgently, "Pa!"
"What now- Great Smials! Hurry, boy," Rogo hastened his slightly dazed offspring as he pushed the reins of a pony calmly eating grass nearby into the hands of the younger hobbit, "Ride to the Master at Brandy Hall and tell him to come quick!"
"Wait!" the rider shouted, and to both hobbits' surprise it was not the menacing, hissing voice of a half remembered evil that called but the clear ringing tone of a young Man. The rider pulled off his hood to reveal a pair of piercing gray eyes and a dark head of hair. "Wait," he repeated as he slid off of his horse. He approached the hobbits slowly, careful not to frighten them. "I am not here to harm you. I come from the king of Gondor, bearing a letter from His Majesty to his friends in the Shire. Er," he looked around, "are they here?"
Rogo puffed out his chest and did his best to sound in control of the situation. "Are who here, young Man?"
"I'm sorry, I did not introduce myself." The rider gave the hobbits a low bow. "Hedor, messenger of Gondor, at your service."
"Rogo Reeds and my son Rolo at yours," the hobbit replied, though he wasn't sure if he intended it to be much more than a formality to this strange Man.
"His Royal Majesty, King Elessar Telcontar, and Her Royal Majesty, Queen Arwen Undomiel, would like to send their greetings and a message to their Counselors in the North-kingdom. That would be," Hedor pulled a mostly wet piece of paper on which he had scribbled his instructions from a pocket in his cloak and, with some difficulty due to the smudged letters, read, "the Thain of the Shire, the Master of Buckland, or the Mayor of Hobbiton."
"Well, that's Master Eomer you'll be wanting. Go on now, Rolo, send the Master his message. And get him here, double sharp mind!"
Rolo was finally able to stop gawking and climbed on the pony, which looked somewhat perturbed at being taken away from its meal. As he left, Rogo turned back to Hedor, who was looking decidedly unsure about this turn of events. The hobbit cleared his throat, casting around for something to break the uncomfortable silence. "Would you like somethin' to eat?"
* * *
As Rolo quickly approached Brandy Hall, Eomer, Cousin Tunneler, and a few of the other hobbit adults sat near one of the Hall's front doors, quietly smoking on their pipes and enjoying the short time from luncheon to afternoon tea. Tunneler broke the silence with a question to Eomer: "How's your son doing, Master? He feeling better now?"
Eomer nodded at the other hobbit. "Yes, thank you, Tunneler. He's much improved with Mrs. Hazelwood's medicines. Not that he likes them much, nor her list of approved foods!" The hobbits chuckled and added their comments.
"That tends to be the way with youngsters."
"Don't know what's good for 'em!"
"Hmm, my wife said the same about me the other day."
Amid the general laughter at the last statement, Rolo came riding up in great haste. "Master Eomer! Master Eomer! There's a Man at the east gate, says he has a message to you from the king himself!"
* * *
*Counselors of the North-kingdom- According to 'The Return of the King' Appendix B, Shire Reckoning 1434 (Fourth Age 13): 'King Elessar makes the Thain, the Master, and the Mayor Counselors of the North-kingdom' i.e., Arnor.
*South-kingdom- Another term for Gondor.
*Death of the Steward- According to my copy of 'The Complete Guide to Middle-earth' (by Robert Foster), Faramir died in Fourth Age 82 (Shire Reckoning 1503), the year our story takes place.
A/N II- Oooh, the plot thickens! Sorry about all the little footnotes, just 'brain candy' as one of teachers call them. I hope you liked this chapter, I'll try to hurry with the next one. Oh, yeah- be a responsible reader and review. Okay? Okay. :)
cheerleader15- I like Tru, too- but don't tell Dandelion, or she'll get mad! LOL. I'm glad you liked that line. I'm updating as soon as possible!
GreyLadyBast- 'Completely hobbity'? You think so? Good, because that's what I was trying for. You guys are so nice! :)
On a side note, [looks at calendar] it's almost my birthday! It's almost my birthday! [calms down] Sorry, but it isn't every day a gal turns sixteen, now is it? Anyway, in the spirit of 'hobbity'-ness I've decided to give all of the poeple who review this chapter a virtual mathom- since I can't afford real ones. [smiles sheepishly] Toodle-oo!
A/N- Hello again! I know, I know, my posting has been- shall we say sporadic? I never know exactly when I will find a chapter is finished, I try to be quick but also make it a good story. Oh, and if any of you were wondering- this is NOT going to become solely a romance story. Romance is not even going to be one of the main themes. There will be some romance, but not a lot (and certainly nothing above PG). On that note, please enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 9- Of Recoveries and Surprises
'Ninnyhammer, ninnyhammer,' Tru thought again as he walked back through the dark copse. He had not been much surprised to find his father leaning against a tree by the Brandywine, still holding his fishing rod and snoring loudly. It had taken a while of Tru alternately shaking and calling his father's name before the young hobbit lost his already strained temper. "WAKE UP!"
"Huh-what? Tru? No need to shout, m'boy, I'm wide awake. What's your trouble?"
Tru told him about Theo's illness, and, as with the cooks, Cousin Tunneler had been alarmed. After gathering the bucket of fish and his rod, the older hobbit ran toward Brandy Hall at a fair clip. "Slow down, Pa," Tru panted. "The healer said brullia wasn't that bad of a disease."
"Brullia?" said Cousin Tunneler, stopping abruptly and causing Tru to nearly crash into him. "Look out there, lad. Did you say young Master Theo has brullia?"
"Aye."
"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Here I thought the boy was mortal sick, and all he's got is brullia."
Tru's eyes widened in astonishment. "You've heard of it before?"
"I should say so. You probably don't remember it, but once half of the young hobbits in the Great Smials had it- and all at the same time! You had it, so did Dandelion Took- you remember her, don't you?"
Tru was glad in the partial dark his father could not see his unusually pink ears. "Yeah."
"She's here, y'know." Half-chuckling, Tunneler turned to his son. "Now, I don't want the pair of you fighting like cats an' dogs, got me?"
"Of course not, Pa- we're not teenagers anymore."
Now Cousin Tunneler was leading the way out of the trees, and still Tru repeated to himself, 'Ninnyhammer, ninnyhammer.'
'See,' said that voice from before. 'I told you that you liked her.'
"Oh, shut up," Tru growled in response.
"What was that you said, Tru?"
"Nothing, Pa, nothing."
Upon reaching the hall, Cousin Tunneler disappeared to the kitchens with his fish. Tru wandered aimlessly for a while, half hoping to run into Dandelion and the other half desperately wishing not to. He decided to see if he could find out if Theo's health had improved and ambled through the complex hallways of the smial until he reached the passage with Theo's room. Had he been looking where he was going, his ears would have changed their color, but as it was he did not see the hobbit lasses peeping into the door of the younger hobbit's room until he ran into them.
Dandelion turned, the sharp remark on the tip of her tongue quickly swallowed as she realized who it was. "Oh! Tru! Where-what are you doing here?"
His ears making up for their delay in color change tenfold, Tru replied, "I was just, er, seeing if Theo was any better."
Noticing that Dandelion was too flustered to say anything, Poppy answered, "Mrs. Hazelwood just got back with some medicines for him. She took some leaves out of her bag and put them on the fire. They smell really nice, sort of foreign and familiar all at the same time. That's why we were looking in, to see if we could figure out what they are." A low bark from their feet made the three look down. "Oh, yes, she made Scamp leave the room. 'It's not good for animals to be around children when they're sick,' she said."
"Come here, boy," Theo said, relieved to have found a distraction from his confusing thoughts. The puppy obediently walked to the young hobbit who had been his owner and Tru picked him up. "I'll take care of Scamp while Theo can't, if that's all right," he offered.
"I'm sure that will be fine," replied Poppy. Dandelion nodded wordlessly.
"I'll- be in my room." Tru turned on his heel, walked down the hall to his room, and entered, shutting the door behind him.
"That went well," said Poppy as she looked sideways at Dandelion, now blushing furiously. "You actually managed to talk to him."
* * *
And for a few days, that was how it went: Dandelion and Poppy constantly checking up on Theo, who grew progressively healthier, while Tru tried to avoid Dandelion altogether. On the few occasions they did meet- usually when Tru checked on the youngest hobbit- both would stare at each awkwardly, then mumble a greeting and hurry on to a newly remembered task. Poppy coaxed Dandelion to do more than just say 'hi' to Tru, but the young Took felt that was the limit of her vocabulary whenever the boy was around. As to Tru, his thoughts were still an enormous mess and he did his best to ignore them. The most relieving thing that was happening was Theo's steady recovery.
"Ugh, more soup?" the lad whined pitifully. Eomer nodded regretfully.
"Sorry, son. Mrs. Hazelwood's orders. It's mushroom soup," he added, as if that would make up for the fact that so far, soup- and bowls of it- was all the patient could have.
"When I get healthy again, I'm never, never eating soup. For the rest of my life."
"We'll see about that," Dandelion said as she walked into the room, followed by Poppy. Both smiled at the sight of the Brandybuck's scowl, glad he was finally awake and feeling well enough to do so.
"Father, can't I get out of bed? I don't even have a fever."
"No."
"Please?" Theo spoke pleadingly.
"Now, Theo, you heard Mrs. Hazelwood. No getting out of bed for at least--"
"A week. I know. But I don't feel bad at all, Father, really."
Eomer sighed and turned to Dandelion, his son's favorite cousin. "Dandy-lass, can you get some sense into him?"
"Oh, Theo." Dandelion sat on the bed next to where he sat, propped up by pillows. She ruffled his curls fondly. "There's nothing we'd like more than for you to be able to get up, but we'd rather you be in bed against your will for a while than you getting sick again. Surely you can see that, my silly cousin?"
Blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes, Theo leaned back in resignation. "All right, fine. But no more than a week!"
Dandelion winked at Poppy. "Of course. One week from tomorrow, you can be out of bed."
"What?!"
* * *
Barely two miles from the joking hobbits, a dark figure, easily twice the size of any of the hobbits, sped on a fast horse toward Buckland. A cold wind suddenly slapped his face, and he shivered involuntarily and pulled the hood of his cloak more securely about him. Though the land around him was filled with hills- unnaturally so, he thought- now and again when horse and rider crested one he could see an ancient looking forest and the sparkle of the sun's reflection on water. He knew this would be where he would find the halflings.
Another stinging wind, a reminder that autumn was nearly upon this land, struck him. He sighed. To keep his mind off the growing cold, he repeated his instructions. Upon reaching the boundaries of the land of the little folk- the Shire, he remembered the king had called it- he was sure to be stopped by the halflings' border patrol. He was to tell them he needed to see at least one of the king's Counselors in the North-kingdom*. If none were there, he would wait until they could be found. He was not to tell any of the halflings his news before them.
The thought of the grievous news he bore filled him with sorrow. Not that he had really known the Lord Faramir; he was only an errand runner of Gondor, not one of the more important people in the kingdom at all. Still, as with all of the subjects of the South-kingdom*, the death of the steward* had hit him hard. The lord Faramir had been steward for all of this young man's life and for all the lives of most of the other citizens of Gondor. He could hardly believe it himself, and now he not only had to believe it but tell it to these halflings who had actually known Faramir.
He sighed again and peered up at the sun that was scarcely to be seen through the thick cloud cover. Past lunch time, he thought. His stomach gave a loud rumble and he urged his horse to go faster. Surely these halflings would have some food for a weary traveler? The majority of his supplies had been ruined a few days before when a bridge he had been riding across collapsed. He had been hard pressed to escape with his life and his horse, much less his food. Fortunately, the valuable scroll with the king's message to his subjects in the north had not been damaged. The young errand runner was glad that the queen had the foresight to put her husband's message in an Elvish waterproof satchel. Too bad he had not put his stores in it as well, but it was no use crying over spilt milk, as his mother was prone to say. Besides, he was nearly in the halflings' land and they could not deny him some food, now could they?
The sun shone with little warmth on the black speck of the man and horse, now less than a mile from the border of the Shire.
* * *
Rolo Reeds was not used to being as bored as he was now. The hobbit had held the misconception that being a Bounder would be a thrilling job, filled with fighting off orcs, wargs, and worse as daily tasks. When he confessed this thought to his father, Rogo, the older hobbit could hardly breathe from suppressed laughter. Rogo had been a Bounder for a great deal more time than his son, and the most trouble he had seen was a group of drunken hobbits.
'What I wouldn't give for some excitement,' Rolo mused as he gazed over the gate marking Buckland's border to the road beyond. Hardly had the thought crossed his mind than excitement came charging at him, in the form of a great black horse carrying a tall figure, cloaked in black. "Pa," Rolo said slowly, then more urgently, "Pa!"
"What now- Great Smials! Hurry, boy," Rogo hastened his slightly dazed offspring as he pushed the reins of a pony calmly eating grass nearby into the hands of the younger hobbit, "Ride to the Master at Brandy Hall and tell him to come quick!"
"Wait!" the rider shouted, and to both hobbits' surprise it was not the menacing, hissing voice of a half remembered evil that called but the clear ringing tone of a young Man. The rider pulled off his hood to reveal a pair of piercing gray eyes and a dark head of hair. "Wait," he repeated as he slid off of his horse. He approached the hobbits slowly, careful not to frighten them. "I am not here to harm you. I come from the king of Gondor, bearing a letter from His Majesty to his friends in the Shire. Er," he looked around, "are they here?"
Rogo puffed out his chest and did his best to sound in control of the situation. "Are who here, young Man?"
"I'm sorry, I did not introduce myself." The rider gave the hobbits a low bow. "Hedor, messenger of Gondor, at your service."
"Rogo Reeds and my son Rolo at yours," the hobbit replied, though he wasn't sure if he intended it to be much more than a formality to this strange Man.
"His Royal Majesty, King Elessar Telcontar, and Her Royal Majesty, Queen Arwen Undomiel, would like to send their greetings and a message to their Counselors in the North-kingdom. That would be," Hedor pulled a mostly wet piece of paper on which he had scribbled his instructions from a pocket in his cloak and, with some difficulty due to the smudged letters, read, "the Thain of the Shire, the Master of Buckland, or the Mayor of Hobbiton."
"Well, that's Master Eomer you'll be wanting. Go on now, Rolo, send the Master his message. And get him here, double sharp mind!"
Rolo was finally able to stop gawking and climbed on the pony, which looked somewhat perturbed at being taken away from its meal. As he left, Rogo turned back to Hedor, who was looking decidedly unsure about this turn of events. The hobbit cleared his throat, casting around for something to break the uncomfortable silence. "Would you like somethin' to eat?"
* * *
As Rolo quickly approached Brandy Hall, Eomer, Cousin Tunneler, and a few of the other hobbit adults sat near one of the Hall's front doors, quietly smoking on their pipes and enjoying the short time from luncheon to afternoon tea. Tunneler broke the silence with a question to Eomer: "How's your son doing, Master? He feeling better now?"
Eomer nodded at the other hobbit. "Yes, thank you, Tunneler. He's much improved with Mrs. Hazelwood's medicines. Not that he likes them much, nor her list of approved foods!" The hobbits chuckled and added their comments.
"That tends to be the way with youngsters."
"Don't know what's good for 'em!"
"Hmm, my wife said the same about me the other day."
Amid the general laughter at the last statement, Rolo came riding up in great haste. "Master Eomer! Master Eomer! There's a Man at the east gate, says he has a message to you from the king himself!"
* * *
*Counselors of the North-kingdom- According to 'The Return of the King' Appendix B, Shire Reckoning 1434 (Fourth Age 13): 'King Elessar makes the Thain, the Master, and the Mayor Counselors of the North-kingdom' i.e., Arnor.
*South-kingdom- Another term for Gondor.
*Death of the Steward- According to my copy of 'The Complete Guide to Middle-earth' (by Robert Foster), Faramir died in Fourth Age 82 (Shire Reckoning 1503), the year our story takes place.
A/N II- Oooh, the plot thickens! Sorry about all the little footnotes, just 'brain candy' as one of teachers call them. I hope you liked this chapter, I'll try to hurry with the next one. Oh, yeah- be a responsible reader and review. Okay? Okay. :)
cheerleader15- I like Tru, too- but don't tell Dandelion, or she'll get mad! LOL. I'm glad you liked that line. I'm updating as soon as possible!
GreyLadyBast- 'Completely hobbity'? You think so? Good, because that's what I was trying for. You guys are so nice! :)
On a side note, [looks at calendar] it's almost my birthday! It's almost my birthday! [calms down] Sorry, but it isn't every day a gal turns sixteen, now is it? Anyway, in the spirit of 'hobbity'-ness I've decided to give all of the poeple who review this chapter a virtual mathom- since I can't afford real ones. [smiles sheepishly] Toodle-oo!
