Author's note: This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so please be kind! I greatly appreciate any constructive criticism you have. I'll warn you, though, grammar and spelling have never been my strong suits.
They call me a bitter woman. Perhaps they are right, but I have reasons to be bitter. Oh! I have my reasons. Since I was a child, I was never good enough for anyone; it was my sister Lily who had everyone's attention. She was truly a lovely child, and when she was born, I was quite fond of her. Then things changed, things became different.
From the start mother and father spent all their time with her, while I sulked under the watchful eye of my nurse. I had been told that it was often like this at the beginning, but that my parents really did love me. I believed it, with childish naïveté and innocence.
For the first few years I got along in relatively peaceful co-existence with my sister. She would follow me everywhere, screaming "Lia! Lia!" and would try and do everything I did. After a while, she realized that she could get far more attention from adults and other hobbits then she could from me. She would go to anyone who would listen to her, and chatter away in childish babble. I could rarely understand a word out of her mouth, but everyone though it was charming and sweet.
There was another thing about Lily. She was beautiful. With curly blonde hair, (an incredible rarity) bright blue eyes, and a charming smile, she was truly an exquisite beauty. I on the other hand, was quite unremarkable looking. Dark hair and eyes were a sharp contrast to my fair complexion. Everyone would exclaim how good-looking Lily was, and as to me, they would say "what an unusual looking child."
As I grew older, Lily became more popular, and I grew more aloof. I was a wild one, I liked to run with the boys, but they shunned me, so I escaped into stories and songs. I liked nothing more than to hear the stories of old, and relive the tales in my mind. The years raced by, until I was of age, my parents were beginning to look for suitors, although none seemed very interested. Lily had what seems like hundreds of possible suitors, and she wasn't even of age! Boys seemed drawn to her, like flies to a picnic. She was equally drawn to them, always decked out in fancy dresses and hair ribbons, hanging on their every word.
I thought I would never find a husband. All the "possible suitors" were dull, boring, and seemed to want only ale, and fine lass to serve it. I did not want to be a personal barmaid to some thick- witted, heartless oaf of a hobbit. I wanted a good husband…and true love. I though I would never find that true love, so I set out to live and die an old maid. But fate was kind. In my 35 year, when all (including myself) had assumed I would live out my life in bitter celibacy, lady fate sent me what I had wanted for so long…true love