Diamond clung to the shadows as she neared the center of Hobbiton. The blazing bonfire cast strange and fleeting shadows on the surrounding buildings, giving the atmosphere an unearthly touch.

Hobbits—there must have been at least a hundred, young and old—were gathered around the blazing fire, counting out weapons, talking amongst themselves. The tone of the gathering was solemn and matter-of-fact, yet the air buzzed with excitement.

Diamond cautiously left her vantage point from the shadows, and stood outside of one of the small clusters, eavesdropping—a small shadow from the outside, trying to look in.

"What do you have on you?" one of the hobbit lads asked, addressing the fellow next to him.

"I managed to grab my bow, but I only have twelve arrows," came the reply.

"I've got a knife—but I don't know what good it'll do."

"How do we know this'll work?" one of the lads suddenly piped in, doubt in his voice. "I mean, they just came riding in today. Are they really going to get rid of the Big Folk?"

Any response was interrupted by the trampling of ponies' feet. "See you soon!" a voice rang out, bold, almost flippant. "It's only fourteen miles or so over the fields. I'll bring you back an army of Tooks in the morning."

A group of riders suddenly appeared, and Diamond's jaw dropped. A half dozen lads on ponies were riding hard, lead by a solitary hobbit in the front.

The hobbit in the front was larger than the others, and the way he bore himself as he rose, with his cloak streaming out from behind him and his chain mail burning dully in the bonfire's light made him seem…seem…

"Well, don't that just seem lordly," one of the hobbit's mumbled in awe, putting the right words to Diamond's thoughts.

'Just like one of Grandmum's tales,' Diamond thought as her eyes followed the group as they rode out of town. For an instant the hobbit in the lead was none other than the Great Bandobras Took leading his kin north to drive out the Orc invaders. 'Bullroarer' Took, riding out of her grandmum's tales to fight once more for the Shire.

A horn rang out, loud and clear, and every hobbit cheered wildly. Once again, the horn's called stirred Diamond's heart into action, and she boldly pushed her way towards the fire, inspired to do whatever needed to be done, even if death was the reward. "We'll show them Big Folk," she muttered, a dangerous grin on her face, "To finally fight! I'll show them, for what they've done to the Shire, I'll show them Big Folk—"

So intent on her own thoughts, she didn't realize she was speaking out loud until a hand clapped onto her shoulder and spun her around.

"Though it was a lad until I heard it mumbling!" a voice boomed out. "Then I knew it could only be one Long Cleeve!"

Diamond tried to squirm out of the hobbit's grasp. "Let me go, Andwise," she grumbled.

"And where did you think you were going lass?"

"I was looking for the fellows who are in charge," she shot back, still squirming in his grasp.

This only made the hobbit laugh. "And what were you planning to do? Ask them if you could save the Shire from the Big Folk?"

Her glare only made him laugh louder. "Goodness, you thought you were!"

"I said let me go," she said again, this time through clenched teeth.

Andwise let her go, and looked down at her. "A young lass like you shouldn't be here—"

"I'm not a child!" she retorted.

"And you're not of age and you're a lass!" was his cruel reply. "The women and children are being kept and a hobbit hole just outside of Hobbiton, to kept them safe. Stay here and I'll get a lad to escort you—"

"I will not go and hide with the women and children! I will fight!" she shouted in rage. "I will not be treated like an fragile egg!"

So loud and angry was her cry that silence fell around the fire. Andwise glared at her. "Learn your place, lass," was his order.

"Us North-tooks never took to learning what our 'place' was," she said, thumbing her nose at him.

"Is that why they all up'ed and settled so far north? Cause they figured living as poor as rabbits and breeding as fast suited them fine?"

"Diamond! Diamond, is that you?"

Farmer Cotton pushed his way through the crowd. "Come on lass, I need a word with you," he beckoned, glancing between Andwise and Diamond. Diamond glared one last time at Andwise, taking note to show him next time they ran into each other.

"Diamond, lass, over here."

Diamond walked over to Farmer Cotton, the heat of the fire warming her cold feet and arms.

"Lads, this is Diamond North-took of Long Cleeve."

Three hobbit lads looked at Diamond, and she suddenly felt very shabby and dirty. They all wore the most beautiful chain mail, and swords hung by their sides. Even from where she stood she could see that their cloaks were of a finer stuff, and their faces were noble and grim. Diamond felt like a slip of a hobbit in their presence, like a little grimy child. These were warriors—and Diamond was horribly jealous.

"G'day," she mumbled, noticing a bit to late that it was the dead of night.

"Diamond's made of tougher stuff lads, and trustworthy as anything," Farmer Cotton boasted. "Her and her family have been right up there, preparing the way for this day."

Diamond grinned, her proud heart making her straighten up. Her family didn't need shiny chain mail or swords—they were North-tooks, and of Long Cleeve for that.

"Good to hear that Cotton!" Diamond turned towards the voice, and stepped back. She had just noticed it, but…how did hobbits get so tall?

The hobbit laughed heartily at her reaction. He towered over her, at four and a half feet. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service," came his reply.

"G'day," she repeated.

"Anyway, her family has got a stock pile of weapons hidden away—"

"And Milo's gone to rally the hobbits in the north—they're probably be here tomorrow morning," Diamond interrupted.

Meriadoc looked enormously pleased at the news. "Well, Miss Diamond, your news has made me a very happy hobbit!" he exclaimed, patting her shoulder.

However, the good news was short lived.

"They're coming!" Some hobbits suddenly came running towards the fire, frantic. "A score or more. But two have gone off west across the country."

"To Waymeet, that'll be," said Cotton, "to fetch more of the gang."

"Waymeet? They'd be coming from Waymeet?" one hobbit voice suddenly asked.

Cotton shrugged. "They'll be marching from the west, I'll grant it. But it's fifteen miles each way. We needn't trouble about them just yet."

"But Farmer Cotton—we sent the woman and children west. They're five miles from Hobbiton," the one hobbit continued.

Farmer Cotton paused.

"Well…that proves to be a problem," Merry said, his eyes grim.

"What if we send some one to warn them?" asked one of the 'lordly' hobbits. He was a thin hobbit, and his eyes held great wisdom—and a greater sadness.

"Frodo, I can't spare any lads—it's too dangerous to go off along, with all the Big Folk lurking about," Meriadoc explained.

"But someone's got to warn them."

"Diamond."

She looked up at Farmer Cotton. His gaze was steady.

"Will you go, lass?"