Disclaimer: As everyone knows, there is no real map of the entire Shire,
so some of the locations are just guessed at. Also, I have no idea the
real lineage of Diamond, so I'm making up most everything about her, her
family and her home. Sorry it took so long, hopefully more will be coming
out sooner. Everything except the OC's belong to JRR Tolkein, his family,
his estate, etc.
Chapter 4
Pippin and Merry were up early the following morning. They'd spent a pleasant evening filled with food and laughter and good conversation with Sam and Rose. The young Hobbits had chuckled and cooed over baby Elanor, and had given Rose the presents. She had given Merry a shrewd look after folding the beautiful, knitted blanket over Elanor's sleeping form. Merry colored, but it was Pippin who laughed and assured her that Merry had finally spoken to Fredegar about his sister Estella.
"That's wonderful, Mr. Pippin. Now we just need to find a nice lass for you!"
Pippin had choked over the mug of ale he'd been sipping, while Rose, Sam and Merry laughed.
Quickly changing the subject, Pippin filled Rose in on their afternoon and what they'd learned of Hal's experience. They had discussed their plans, Hal's story, and even some of the old stories Sam had found in his reading. Pippin commented on the obscure reference to 'treeherdesses' that he'd found, and when they'd discussed the subject for every angle, they finally retired. After a quick wash and a standing breakfast, Pippin and Merry shrugged into their packs (now made much heavier since Rose had added homemade travel bars, dried meats, and a bit of cheese). Then, with a last kiss for Elanor and wave to Sam, they bowed to Rose and took off north down the lane. The first hour went quickly as they were traveling on the road leading to Overhill. They made good time for a while, but after leaving Overhill behind, they set off northwest across the fields. The late crops were ripe, ready for harvest. Wild sunflowers, their heads drooping with the burden of ripened seeds, dotted the hedges at the borders of the fields they made their way through. They climbed over several low stone walls that marked the farm boundaries, and waded through or hopped over small brooks as they made their way in a lazy northwest direction. They kept the western branch of The Water to their left, meaning to skirt round Rushock Bog and follow the Bindbole Wood north for several miles. Then they would head due west across the North Moors toward the feet of Annuminas. Long Cleeve was located in a deep fold of land, near the borders of the Shire. The valley formed by the fold had a large stream running the length of it, which neatly divided the town into Upper and Lower Long Cleeve. The Hobbits in Upper made their homes in holes along the steep western wall of the fold. They had, at some distant time in the past, even named the long, interconnected network of holes, tunnels and caves the 'New Smials'. As more than one Long Cleeve Took had remarked, only half-joking, they would have called them the 'Great Smials' for the vast size of the network, but some jumped up southerners had already taken the name. The Hobbits in Lower Long Cleeve made their homes in long, low houses set well back from the stream which was prone to overflow with the spring runoff.
As Pippin recalled, his closest relations lived in the New Smials, so they would have to cross the bridge in the center of town and trudge up the long, narrow path leading up to the Hobbit holes. Pippin also remembered that there was a small Inn located within the connecting caves. They could probably stop there and find the direction to some of Pippin's kin.
Merry and Pippin crossed another small brook, taking care not to wet their toes more than necessary. The rain from yesterday had departed, but the chill of autumn seemed to be with them to stay. They'd been walking for almost three hours now, and the weight of their packs, along with some months of inactivity was beginning to tell. Pippin was determined not to be the first to call a halt, but he was loosing energy rather quickly. His legs weren't used to the constant walking anymore, either, since he rode his pony so much. The muscles in his calves were beginning to knot up, but he pushed on grimly. Despite the chill, Pippin could feel the sweat begin to trickle over his brow and down his back, between his shoulders. He was finally ready to swallow his pride and call a halt when Merry stopped, shrugged off his pack and threw himself to the ground.
"Mercy!" he cried, grinning at Pippin and massaging his own calves. "Have pity on an old hobbit! I'm not in the shape I used to be, my lad! Nor as young!"
Pippin let out a relieved sigh and dropped his own pack. He fell to the ground next to his friend and laughed. "Thank goodness!" he said, wiping his brow. "I thought I was going to collapse! Let's settle our breaks now, so we don't kill ourselves in our first day!"
Merry released his right leg and began to massage the left. "Good idea, Pip," he said, nodding. "I think a short break every two hours would be advisable for the first few days, don't you?"
"I actually think we should have brought the ponies, to tell you the truth," Pippin quipped. "Every two hours sounds wonderful right now. Too bad we didn't think of it an hour ago! Fancy a small bite to sustain us?"
The cousins laughed and joked as they set about making a light mid-morning snack. It was rather meager fare for Hobbits, being only bread, cheese, and some dried fruit, but it refreshed them and put heart into them. After a quick drink of fresh water from one of the nearby brooks they were ready to continue.
"I don't notice that the packs are much lighter," Pippin mused. "We mustn't have been that hungry!"
"I imagine they'll be light enough in a week or so. By then we'll be heartily sick of camping rations and looking forward to the first decent Inn we come to!"
"We won't come to one if we keep to the Moors and fields, though. Perhaps we should veer west and take the road to Needlehole?" The wistful look on Pippin's face made Merry laugh again.
"Oh, no, cousin. It was your idea to hare out across the fields, just as it was your idea to camp along the way. We're both going to be tired, but I have a wedding to shape up for, so we'll keep to our original plan!"
Pippin let out an exaggerated sigh and hefted his pack up on his shoulders more firmly. "'A fool of a Took' Gandalf always called me, and now I'm inclined to agree. Ah, well, since there's nothing for it but to see it through, let's be off! Ready cousin?"
"Lead on, Pip!"
The Hobbits set off again, talking or singing or just thinking as the mood hit them. They had grown up in different homes, but since entering their teens they had been devoted to each other and were always finding ways to visit one another. They actually got on better than many siblings Pippin knew. Pippin himself had three sisters, while Merry was an only child. They'd been like brothers for so long that it seemed unbelievable that this might be their last adventure together. Miss Estella Bolger was a good Hobbit woman; comely, talented and learned in her letters and numbers. She was pleasant and good-humored, with a placid character and not an adventurous bone in her body. She was a good match for Merry since it was usually Pippin who talked him into adventures. But Pippin knew he would grow bored in that kind of match. In fact, Pippin suspected that he would follow in Bilbo's and Frodo's footsteps and remain a bachelor. He had nothing against marriage; in fact, until he and his friends had formed part of the Fellowship and journeyed far away from home, he'd always assumed he would find a nice lass and settle down and marry. Unfortunately, his time spent with the fine ladies and gentlemen in King Elessar's court had changed his perceptions a bit. He had seen women strong and intelligent in matters beyond their own kitchens and children. He had seen women willing to risk life and limb in the defense of their lords and lands. Even Queen Arwen, beautiful and proud, the Evenstar of her people, had given up her birthright and chosen the shortened years of Men to be with the Man she loved.
Pippin was afraid that he wouldn't be able to settle for someone who's thoughts centered around her kitchen, garden and the babblings of her children. He wanted someone he could talk to about larger events than the annual harvest and who's vegetables would win the local competition. Not that he thought that those attributes were unimportant; he knew they were. But he wanted something more. And being realistic, Pippin knew that the type of mate he sought, someone smart, witty, and not afraid of the odd adventure, as well as being a 'good wife', probably didn't exist. At least not in the Shire. Pippin glanced at Merry, striding along beside him, and wondered how he had known a Stella Bolger was the one for him. Stella had been a pest, as Fredegar had said, when Merry, Pippin and Fatty had been in their teens and the early part of their tweens. Now she and Merry would be tying the knot.
"What is it, Pippin?" Merry asked unexpectedly.
Startled, Pippin felt his cheeks turn red. "What do you mean?"
Merry smiled at his best friend. "There are a lot of things you are, Pip, old friend. Quiet isn't one of them. You haven't uttered a word in almost an hour."
Pippin shrugged. "I guess I was just thinking about how our lives have changed the last few years. And how they're still changing. Could you imagine our Sam as a father? Or yourself as a groom?" Pippin shook his head. "This might be our last adventure together."
Merry nodded. "You're right, there. But we'll do other things together as we all get older. Rose is right. We need to find you a wife, too."
Pippin gave Merry a disbelieving look. How could his best friend know so little of him?
Merry reached out for Pippin's arm, bringing him to a stop. "Pippin, I know what you're thinking. But even if Rose is thinking of a nice, sweet home-body, I know you need a different kind of wife. Someone with the same sense of adventure that you have."
He grinned and cuffed his cousin on the shoulder, causing the younger Hobbit to smile back. "Come on, Pippin, buck up. I don't know if that kind of lass exists, but if she does, we'll find her!"
The cousins continued on until dusk, speaking little, both wrapped in their own thoughts again. When they finally made camp, it was chilly and growing cloudy. They might get rained on again. Building a small fire, they huddled into their Elven cloaks and fed on a meager meal of travel cakes and water. Both were exhausted and neither felt like exerting himself to make a real meal. As they sat watching the flickering flames, Pippin said suddenly, "Do you think she exists at all?"
The countryside around Long Cleeve was hilly, but covered with groves of pine, maple, and oak. The wood was very carefully harvested, the foresters never taking more than needed. The fields were rich with barley, wheat and other crops. The children grew strong and sturdy. It was hotter in the summer and colder in the winter than most of the rest of the Shire, but the folk living there wouldn't have it any other way. These hardy, northern Hobbits treasured their land, produce and children and were proud of them. They had other treasures, as well, that weren't nearly as well-known, though.
As Begrobas Took, a direct descendant of old 'Bullroarer' Took, looked around his fire at his numerous children gathered there, he felt his chest swell with pride. His offspring ranged in age from their forties to their tweens. The males were fine, sturdy lads; handsome in the manner of Hobbits and each as good a forester, farmer or herdsman as could be wished. The females were one of the less known treasures of the North Farthing. They were well versed in the gentle arts of household management, cooking, needlework, and healing. Begrobas, knowing the girls would grow to be fine Hobbit lasses, named them appropriately after the gems that their long ago friends the dwarves mined: Opal, Ruby, Diamond, Garnet and Sapphire. A small frown creased his forehead as he thought of his middle daughter, but he brushed it aside. Tonight was to be a festive occasion celebrating the betrothal of his second daughter, Ruby. As he sat in his own comfortable chair by the fire, he smiled at his family, his eyes moving fondly over them. Until he came to the empty chair on the far side of the blazing fire. The others looked nervously at one another, then back at their father. He stood abruptly, pointed at the empty chair, and bellowed, "Where is Diamond?!"
Although it was getting dark, Diamond Took, of the north Tooks of Long Cleeve, didn't notice. She was searching for a special type of root in the Bindbole woods and wanted to harvest as much as possible before the cold weather settled in for good. She wasn't afraid to be so far from home; she often wandered through the North Farthing on her own. She knew this habit drove her dear father to distraction and was considered unfeminine, but she couldn't really help it. Diamond was skilled with a needle and a cooking pot, but she didn't really enjoy doing either as did her sisters. What Diamond really loved was tramping about, seeing things, having tame little adventures.
When she'd been younger, her brothers invited her along on their tramps, laughing at the little lass who insisted on keeping up. As she grew older, however, they had begun to discourage her from going, telling her that she'd never catch a husband if she insisted on acting like a lad. No one wanted a wife who was better at camping and hunting than he was, they said.
"As though I'd want so faint hearted a fellow!" she had answered them. "My husband will have to accept me as I am!"
Her brothers had laughed and teased that she would end up an old maid, but Diamond had sniffed at the possibility. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. She was nothing like her sisters in looks, being, her mother said, a throwback to the Fallohides of the north. She wasn't plump and rosy cheeked, being more fair and slender than most Hobbits. Her mother called her 'willowish' but her detractors just said she looked sickly. Her adventurous streak was very off-putting for amorous suitors, especially when she would challenge a swain to a game darts, and win! In fact, although Diamond was now twenty-six and should be at least comfortably engaged to be married, she'd never had a serious suitor.
Diamond sighed as she pushed farther into the wood. Most hobbit lasses would be frightened to wander this wood, with all the stories and tales that had been told of it. It was said that the trees here moved of their own will. No map showed a trail through the wood because the paths changed almost daily. Diamond wasn't afraid of the wood, though. She had never felt any hostility from the trees and every time she entered, she made certain to never harm one. Even the roots she collected were carefully dug and never completely harvested. She would take what was needed and leave plenty in place for the future. Diamond sometimes even felt that she was being watched. She'd never seen anyone or anything, but she felt that her watcher approved of her even if it didn't make itself known.
As the dark increased, Diamond finally noticed. It was not a good idea to light a fire inside the wood, and she didn't have enough light to see clearly. Realizing that she would have to wait for morning to finish her collecting, she turned around and headed the way she'd come. She would return to her small camp at the edge of the wood, make herself supper, and turn in. Gathering only dead, fallen branches, she moved back to her camp and started a modest fire. After finishing her small meal and cleaning up, Diamond finally removed the cap from her head, releasing her light brown curls. As she stood and brushed the leaves and moss from the breeches she wore when tramping, Diamond thought about the family gathering she was missing.
Her sister Ruby was newly engaged to be married and her betrothed was being formally introduced tonight. Diamond did not want to be present for this. Ruby was only a year older than she, and Diamond didn't want to be around for the obvious comparisons. Especially since their younger sister, Garnet, was already 'walking out' with a young lad who seemed very serious about her. Besides, she thought as she sat down on her bedroll, she was much happier out here. Lying down, Diamond tucked an arm under her head and stared into the fire. As sleep overtook her, she couldn't help wondering if there really was a hobbit anywhere who didn't mind an adventurous, 'willowy', unfeminine wife.
Pippin and Merry had been on the road for almost a fortnight and, as Merry had predicted, they were thoroughly, heartily sick of camping. Unfortunately, with all the rain they'd had, the going had been much slower than they'd anticipated. They were barely at the Bindbole Wood. From their maps, they knew it was an easy trek from the wood to the Needlehole Road. Once on the road, they would easily find an inn. It wasn't food that concerned them, but the lack of baths. Hardy at need and able to withstand much in the way of hardship, Hobbits were also fastidious in matters of personal hygiene. Both Merry and Pippin felt filthy and foot sore. And even though they enjoyed one another's company, they were eager to hear other voices at this point. As they moved closer to the wood, Pippin remarked, "Think there're any Ents left?"
Merry gazed thoughtfully at the approaching line of trees and rubbed his chin. "I just don't know, Pippin," he said finally. "Sauron has been overthrown these two and a half years. Perhaps they all finally returned south. Or perhaps the Ents and Entwives have found that 'road that leads to the west' where both their hearts may rest?"
Pippin sighed. "It would be fine to see Treebeard again, though, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, but it would take a precious lot to get me back to Fangorn right now, my lad," Merry answered cheerfully. "I'm to be married soon, and I doubt Estella would approve of my taking a journey of several months just before we wed. Like as not, I'd return to find she'd got married without me!"
Pippin laughed. "No, never that, cousin. Miss Estella has had her eye on you far too long."
"Best not to tempt fate, though, don't you agree?"
Nodding, Pippin clapped his cousin on the back and began to whistle a merry tune. They were making good time this day. The sun had finally shown her face again and the land they were traversing was not tilled. It was grown rocky, hard and firm under their feet. The Wood was perhaps another hour's quick walking, and as if by silent agreement, the Hobbits continued on without a break.
Chapter 4
Pippin and Merry were up early the following morning. They'd spent a pleasant evening filled with food and laughter and good conversation with Sam and Rose. The young Hobbits had chuckled and cooed over baby Elanor, and had given Rose the presents. She had given Merry a shrewd look after folding the beautiful, knitted blanket over Elanor's sleeping form. Merry colored, but it was Pippin who laughed and assured her that Merry had finally spoken to Fredegar about his sister Estella.
"That's wonderful, Mr. Pippin. Now we just need to find a nice lass for you!"
Pippin had choked over the mug of ale he'd been sipping, while Rose, Sam and Merry laughed.
Quickly changing the subject, Pippin filled Rose in on their afternoon and what they'd learned of Hal's experience. They had discussed their plans, Hal's story, and even some of the old stories Sam had found in his reading. Pippin commented on the obscure reference to 'treeherdesses' that he'd found, and when they'd discussed the subject for every angle, they finally retired. After a quick wash and a standing breakfast, Pippin and Merry shrugged into their packs (now made much heavier since Rose had added homemade travel bars, dried meats, and a bit of cheese). Then, with a last kiss for Elanor and wave to Sam, they bowed to Rose and took off north down the lane. The first hour went quickly as they were traveling on the road leading to Overhill. They made good time for a while, but after leaving Overhill behind, they set off northwest across the fields. The late crops were ripe, ready for harvest. Wild sunflowers, their heads drooping with the burden of ripened seeds, dotted the hedges at the borders of the fields they made their way through. They climbed over several low stone walls that marked the farm boundaries, and waded through or hopped over small brooks as they made their way in a lazy northwest direction. They kept the western branch of The Water to their left, meaning to skirt round Rushock Bog and follow the Bindbole Wood north for several miles. Then they would head due west across the North Moors toward the feet of Annuminas. Long Cleeve was located in a deep fold of land, near the borders of the Shire. The valley formed by the fold had a large stream running the length of it, which neatly divided the town into Upper and Lower Long Cleeve. The Hobbits in Upper made their homes in holes along the steep western wall of the fold. They had, at some distant time in the past, even named the long, interconnected network of holes, tunnels and caves the 'New Smials'. As more than one Long Cleeve Took had remarked, only half-joking, they would have called them the 'Great Smials' for the vast size of the network, but some jumped up southerners had already taken the name. The Hobbits in Lower Long Cleeve made their homes in long, low houses set well back from the stream which was prone to overflow with the spring runoff.
As Pippin recalled, his closest relations lived in the New Smials, so they would have to cross the bridge in the center of town and trudge up the long, narrow path leading up to the Hobbit holes. Pippin also remembered that there was a small Inn located within the connecting caves. They could probably stop there and find the direction to some of Pippin's kin.
Merry and Pippin crossed another small brook, taking care not to wet their toes more than necessary. The rain from yesterday had departed, but the chill of autumn seemed to be with them to stay. They'd been walking for almost three hours now, and the weight of their packs, along with some months of inactivity was beginning to tell. Pippin was determined not to be the first to call a halt, but he was loosing energy rather quickly. His legs weren't used to the constant walking anymore, either, since he rode his pony so much. The muscles in his calves were beginning to knot up, but he pushed on grimly. Despite the chill, Pippin could feel the sweat begin to trickle over his brow and down his back, between his shoulders. He was finally ready to swallow his pride and call a halt when Merry stopped, shrugged off his pack and threw himself to the ground.
"Mercy!" he cried, grinning at Pippin and massaging his own calves. "Have pity on an old hobbit! I'm not in the shape I used to be, my lad! Nor as young!"
Pippin let out a relieved sigh and dropped his own pack. He fell to the ground next to his friend and laughed. "Thank goodness!" he said, wiping his brow. "I thought I was going to collapse! Let's settle our breaks now, so we don't kill ourselves in our first day!"
Merry released his right leg and began to massage the left. "Good idea, Pip," he said, nodding. "I think a short break every two hours would be advisable for the first few days, don't you?"
"I actually think we should have brought the ponies, to tell you the truth," Pippin quipped. "Every two hours sounds wonderful right now. Too bad we didn't think of it an hour ago! Fancy a small bite to sustain us?"
The cousins laughed and joked as they set about making a light mid-morning snack. It was rather meager fare for Hobbits, being only bread, cheese, and some dried fruit, but it refreshed them and put heart into them. After a quick drink of fresh water from one of the nearby brooks they were ready to continue.
"I don't notice that the packs are much lighter," Pippin mused. "We mustn't have been that hungry!"
"I imagine they'll be light enough in a week or so. By then we'll be heartily sick of camping rations and looking forward to the first decent Inn we come to!"
"We won't come to one if we keep to the Moors and fields, though. Perhaps we should veer west and take the road to Needlehole?" The wistful look on Pippin's face made Merry laugh again.
"Oh, no, cousin. It was your idea to hare out across the fields, just as it was your idea to camp along the way. We're both going to be tired, but I have a wedding to shape up for, so we'll keep to our original plan!"
Pippin let out an exaggerated sigh and hefted his pack up on his shoulders more firmly. "'A fool of a Took' Gandalf always called me, and now I'm inclined to agree. Ah, well, since there's nothing for it but to see it through, let's be off! Ready cousin?"
"Lead on, Pip!"
The Hobbits set off again, talking or singing or just thinking as the mood hit them. They had grown up in different homes, but since entering their teens they had been devoted to each other and were always finding ways to visit one another. They actually got on better than many siblings Pippin knew. Pippin himself had three sisters, while Merry was an only child. They'd been like brothers for so long that it seemed unbelievable that this might be their last adventure together. Miss Estella Bolger was a good Hobbit woman; comely, talented and learned in her letters and numbers. She was pleasant and good-humored, with a placid character and not an adventurous bone in her body. She was a good match for Merry since it was usually Pippin who talked him into adventures. But Pippin knew he would grow bored in that kind of match. In fact, Pippin suspected that he would follow in Bilbo's and Frodo's footsteps and remain a bachelor. He had nothing against marriage; in fact, until he and his friends had formed part of the Fellowship and journeyed far away from home, he'd always assumed he would find a nice lass and settle down and marry. Unfortunately, his time spent with the fine ladies and gentlemen in King Elessar's court had changed his perceptions a bit. He had seen women strong and intelligent in matters beyond their own kitchens and children. He had seen women willing to risk life and limb in the defense of their lords and lands. Even Queen Arwen, beautiful and proud, the Evenstar of her people, had given up her birthright and chosen the shortened years of Men to be with the Man she loved.
Pippin was afraid that he wouldn't be able to settle for someone who's thoughts centered around her kitchen, garden and the babblings of her children. He wanted someone he could talk to about larger events than the annual harvest and who's vegetables would win the local competition. Not that he thought that those attributes were unimportant; he knew they were. But he wanted something more. And being realistic, Pippin knew that the type of mate he sought, someone smart, witty, and not afraid of the odd adventure, as well as being a 'good wife', probably didn't exist. At least not in the Shire. Pippin glanced at Merry, striding along beside him, and wondered how he had known a Stella Bolger was the one for him. Stella had been a pest, as Fredegar had said, when Merry, Pippin and Fatty had been in their teens and the early part of their tweens. Now she and Merry would be tying the knot.
"What is it, Pippin?" Merry asked unexpectedly.
Startled, Pippin felt his cheeks turn red. "What do you mean?"
Merry smiled at his best friend. "There are a lot of things you are, Pip, old friend. Quiet isn't one of them. You haven't uttered a word in almost an hour."
Pippin shrugged. "I guess I was just thinking about how our lives have changed the last few years. And how they're still changing. Could you imagine our Sam as a father? Or yourself as a groom?" Pippin shook his head. "This might be our last adventure together."
Merry nodded. "You're right, there. But we'll do other things together as we all get older. Rose is right. We need to find you a wife, too."
Pippin gave Merry a disbelieving look. How could his best friend know so little of him?
Merry reached out for Pippin's arm, bringing him to a stop. "Pippin, I know what you're thinking. But even if Rose is thinking of a nice, sweet home-body, I know you need a different kind of wife. Someone with the same sense of adventure that you have."
He grinned and cuffed his cousin on the shoulder, causing the younger Hobbit to smile back. "Come on, Pippin, buck up. I don't know if that kind of lass exists, but if she does, we'll find her!"
The cousins continued on until dusk, speaking little, both wrapped in their own thoughts again. When they finally made camp, it was chilly and growing cloudy. They might get rained on again. Building a small fire, they huddled into their Elven cloaks and fed on a meager meal of travel cakes and water. Both were exhausted and neither felt like exerting himself to make a real meal. As they sat watching the flickering flames, Pippin said suddenly, "Do you think she exists at all?"
The countryside around Long Cleeve was hilly, but covered with groves of pine, maple, and oak. The wood was very carefully harvested, the foresters never taking more than needed. The fields were rich with barley, wheat and other crops. The children grew strong and sturdy. It was hotter in the summer and colder in the winter than most of the rest of the Shire, but the folk living there wouldn't have it any other way. These hardy, northern Hobbits treasured their land, produce and children and were proud of them. They had other treasures, as well, that weren't nearly as well-known, though.
As Begrobas Took, a direct descendant of old 'Bullroarer' Took, looked around his fire at his numerous children gathered there, he felt his chest swell with pride. His offspring ranged in age from their forties to their tweens. The males were fine, sturdy lads; handsome in the manner of Hobbits and each as good a forester, farmer or herdsman as could be wished. The females were one of the less known treasures of the North Farthing. They were well versed in the gentle arts of household management, cooking, needlework, and healing. Begrobas, knowing the girls would grow to be fine Hobbit lasses, named them appropriately after the gems that their long ago friends the dwarves mined: Opal, Ruby, Diamond, Garnet and Sapphire. A small frown creased his forehead as he thought of his middle daughter, but he brushed it aside. Tonight was to be a festive occasion celebrating the betrothal of his second daughter, Ruby. As he sat in his own comfortable chair by the fire, he smiled at his family, his eyes moving fondly over them. Until he came to the empty chair on the far side of the blazing fire. The others looked nervously at one another, then back at their father. He stood abruptly, pointed at the empty chair, and bellowed, "Where is Diamond?!"
Although it was getting dark, Diamond Took, of the north Tooks of Long Cleeve, didn't notice. She was searching for a special type of root in the Bindbole woods and wanted to harvest as much as possible before the cold weather settled in for good. She wasn't afraid to be so far from home; she often wandered through the North Farthing on her own. She knew this habit drove her dear father to distraction and was considered unfeminine, but she couldn't really help it. Diamond was skilled with a needle and a cooking pot, but she didn't really enjoy doing either as did her sisters. What Diamond really loved was tramping about, seeing things, having tame little adventures.
When she'd been younger, her brothers invited her along on their tramps, laughing at the little lass who insisted on keeping up. As she grew older, however, they had begun to discourage her from going, telling her that she'd never catch a husband if she insisted on acting like a lad. No one wanted a wife who was better at camping and hunting than he was, they said.
"As though I'd want so faint hearted a fellow!" she had answered them. "My husband will have to accept me as I am!"
Her brothers had laughed and teased that she would end up an old maid, but Diamond had sniffed at the possibility. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. She was nothing like her sisters in looks, being, her mother said, a throwback to the Fallohides of the north. She wasn't plump and rosy cheeked, being more fair and slender than most Hobbits. Her mother called her 'willowish' but her detractors just said she looked sickly. Her adventurous streak was very off-putting for amorous suitors, especially when she would challenge a swain to a game darts, and win! In fact, although Diamond was now twenty-six and should be at least comfortably engaged to be married, she'd never had a serious suitor.
Diamond sighed as she pushed farther into the wood. Most hobbit lasses would be frightened to wander this wood, with all the stories and tales that had been told of it. It was said that the trees here moved of their own will. No map showed a trail through the wood because the paths changed almost daily. Diamond wasn't afraid of the wood, though. She had never felt any hostility from the trees and every time she entered, she made certain to never harm one. Even the roots she collected were carefully dug and never completely harvested. She would take what was needed and leave plenty in place for the future. Diamond sometimes even felt that she was being watched. She'd never seen anyone or anything, but she felt that her watcher approved of her even if it didn't make itself known.
As the dark increased, Diamond finally noticed. It was not a good idea to light a fire inside the wood, and she didn't have enough light to see clearly. Realizing that she would have to wait for morning to finish her collecting, she turned around and headed the way she'd come. She would return to her small camp at the edge of the wood, make herself supper, and turn in. Gathering only dead, fallen branches, she moved back to her camp and started a modest fire. After finishing her small meal and cleaning up, Diamond finally removed the cap from her head, releasing her light brown curls. As she stood and brushed the leaves and moss from the breeches she wore when tramping, Diamond thought about the family gathering she was missing.
Her sister Ruby was newly engaged to be married and her betrothed was being formally introduced tonight. Diamond did not want to be present for this. Ruby was only a year older than she, and Diamond didn't want to be around for the obvious comparisons. Especially since their younger sister, Garnet, was already 'walking out' with a young lad who seemed very serious about her. Besides, she thought as she sat down on her bedroll, she was much happier out here. Lying down, Diamond tucked an arm under her head and stared into the fire. As sleep overtook her, she couldn't help wondering if there really was a hobbit anywhere who didn't mind an adventurous, 'willowy', unfeminine wife.
Pippin and Merry had been on the road for almost a fortnight and, as Merry had predicted, they were thoroughly, heartily sick of camping. Unfortunately, with all the rain they'd had, the going had been much slower than they'd anticipated. They were barely at the Bindbole Wood. From their maps, they knew it was an easy trek from the wood to the Needlehole Road. Once on the road, they would easily find an inn. It wasn't food that concerned them, but the lack of baths. Hardy at need and able to withstand much in the way of hardship, Hobbits were also fastidious in matters of personal hygiene. Both Merry and Pippin felt filthy and foot sore. And even though they enjoyed one another's company, they were eager to hear other voices at this point. As they moved closer to the wood, Pippin remarked, "Think there're any Ents left?"
Merry gazed thoughtfully at the approaching line of trees and rubbed his chin. "I just don't know, Pippin," he said finally. "Sauron has been overthrown these two and a half years. Perhaps they all finally returned south. Or perhaps the Ents and Entwives have found that 'road that leads to the west' where both their hearts may rest?"
Pippin sighed. "It would be fine to see Treebeard again, though, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, but it would take a precious lot to get me back to Fangorn right now, my lad," Merry answered cheerfully. "I'm to be married soon, and I doubt Estella would approve of my taking a journey of several months just before we wed. Like as not, I'd return to find she'd got married without me!"
Pippin laughed. "No, never that, cousin. Miss Estella has had her eye on you far too long."
"Best not to tempt fate, though, don't you agree?"
Nodding, Pippin clapped his cousin on the back and began to whistle a merry tune. They were making good time this day. The sun had finally shown her face again and the land they were traversing was not tilled. It was grown rocky, hard and firm under their feet. The Wood was perhaps another hour's quick walking, and as if by silent agreement, the Hobbits continued on without a break.