Author's
Notes:
Once upon a time, hobbits lived in
harmony with Men, farming the upper vales of the Anduin.
They lived so quietly, as a matter of fact, that none of the Great noticed them
at all. (The Great are more likely to notice troublemakers than folk doing what
they ought.) Times changed, a darkness crept over the land, shadowing the
hearts of Men, and some Little Folk made the dangerous crossing of the
Mountains to the West, while others were driven into the shelter of the forest,
where they passed quite a few years in pleasant obscurity once more. It is not
always a misfortune being overlooked...
Reader Poll:
Should I take out the introductory paragraph (above)? And do you prefer these
notes up front, or at the bottom of the page? I like to get them out of the
way, not to spoil any mood created by the chapter by putting notes at the bottom,
but if a majority of readers prefer the notes at the end I'll be happy to
oblige. As long as we're taking opinions, anybody got a strong opinion as to
which story my editor ought to tackle next, to make ready for posting on
ff.net? She keeps reminding me her time is limited, and I have a terrible
problem with deciding amongst so many choices...
Readers taking the time to review are muchly
appreciated. The Muse seems to run on virtual pina
coladas and reviews...
Xena, understandable that the hobbits decided to
settle in the forest again rather than crossing the mountains. Hobbits hate
change, after all, and I guess they were hoping to get away with as little
change as possible.
Angry Tolkien Purist, reviewing above and beyond the
call of duty! Thanks.
If ff.net is giving you fits and you are faithfully writing reviews, you can
always send them along to me at bljean@aol.com. The Muse will bless you.
Expect another chapter of "Small and Passing Thing" on the morrow, if all goes
well.
***
Chapter 9. A New Start
Spring came later that year, perhaps because they were farther North than they
had lived before settling here. The fields and woods took on new life and
promise. Hunting was good in that part of the wood, as if no one had hunted
there for some time. The game was plentiful and not terribly wary. It was a
good thing hobbits hunt for the pot and not for sport, or the wild animals
might have been seriously depleted, but hobbits are thrifty folk and take only
what they need.
As was their practice, they stored up food against the promise of lean times.
They smoked and dried meat and fish, dug roots, gathered berries and mushrooms
and dried as much as they ate fresh. Parties of gleaners left the eaves of the
wood to glean the grain that grew wild in the abandoned fields, and there was
bread again, real bread of wheat or barley, and honey cake for times of
celebration. There was even wine from the grapes growing wild in deserted
vineyards, and apples and pears for the taking in long-neglected orchards.
There was talk of moving onto the land once more, becoming farm folk as their
great-great grands had been. The land was rich and
ripe for the taking, and empty of Men. After much talk of this sort, Thorn went
off by himself, deep into the wood one day, returning with a sober face. The
Lady would not offer protection beyond the sheltering skirts of the trees. In
the end the hobbits decided to stay.
By the end of that first Summer, the People had grown
fat again, not fat as those who are lazy and useless, but fat with good health,
hard work, and plenty to eat. The storeholes were
well-filled against the coming Winter. The move had
been a good one, and they were at peace with the world.
For five years they lived in peace and plenty, and the treetop watch was
abandoned and nearly forgotten.
With the coming of the sixth Spring the first Men
began arriving. These were not Men like the simple, jolly folk they remembered
from the old days, but more grim, moving Northward it
seemed away from a threat to the South. The first hobbit to approach one of
these, hoping to establish friendly relations and trade, was shot down,
examined by a group of curious Men, and left for dead. With the last of his
breath he told his son Beech, who'd found him thus, that they had spoken in a
strange tongue and had not understood anything he'd said to them.
'They treated him like a beast,' Beech
said later, after the sorrowing hobbits had sung the memorial song. 'Just as
you or I might shoot a fox or stoat, a menace to our little ones. Shot him down
and turned him over with a nudge of the toe to look on his face,' he said
angrily. 'Spat on him, and left him as refuse.'
Thorn's arm around his wife tightened as she wept fresh tears for her father,
while her sisters sobbed and the Thorn children, along with their cousins the
Barks, Twigs, Nuts and Ferns mourned the loss of their gran-da.
Ches, now eldest of the Nut family, placed a hand on his
youngest brother's shoulder. 'Enough,' he said quietly. 'You only add to our
sisters' grief.'
'He had a score of good years coming to
him,' Beech muttered, 'two-score, perhaps. Cut short by ignorant giants. What
harm did he ever offer them?'
'Peace,' Thorn said, and at this word
from the head of the Fallohides, Beech finally
subsided, but he did not stop thinking about these Big Folk and what their
advent portended for the People.
The message was all too clear. These Men
were not like the others they'd known. Certainly only a few of those had been
trustworthy. Most had seen the Little Folk as weak just because they were small
and treated them badly, but a few good Men had rued the driving out of the
Little Folk and had traded fairly for what the hobbits produced from the
forest: hides and woodcarvings, berries and fish and meat. These new Big Folk
were obviously not among the good. Men who shot down a hobbit approaching them
with open, empty hands were not to be trusted.
At first the Fallohides
were able to avoid the Men who came to settle the empty farms. The best land
closest to the Great
River was claimed first,
and the hobbits seldom saw any of the new inhabitants of the land. Seldom did
they venture as far as the Great
River, and the
newly-arrived Men were much too busy ploughing and planting to be traipsing the
woods. When a Man did walk in the woods it was easy to hear his clumsy steps
and take cover long before there was any danger of discovery. The hobbits had
to be more careful about things such as smoke, however. Still, the land was
good and the wood was generous, and because they were careful another year
passed without further incident.
The following Spring
still more Men came into the land, taking up the farms between the River and
the Forest, even the land just outside the eaves of Greenwood the Great. Worse, some Men took
land in the wood for themselves and
began to work as woodcutters and hunters, cutting the trees and hunting the
game. As the Men became more numerous, game was harder to find and it was more
difficult to avoid encountering Men. Another hobbit was shot by a hunting party
of Big Folk that Autumn. The People retreated to their
holes for the Winter and it was a retreat indeed, not
just from weather but from encroaching Big Folk. Though the storeholes
were not as well filled as previously, the hobbits still had enough to eat,
thanks to the bounty of the Lady's provision.
More than once over that long cold season as families met and talked over the
growing troubles, discussion of crossing the Mountains arose. Each time after
it was brought out, talked over, turned about and examined closely, the idea
would be put back again. Dangerous as life was, they were still more secure
here in their hidey-holes than crossing the open plain to the Mountains and
braving the wind- and snow-swept heights. They did not even know what was on
the other side of the Mountains—there was only the grey one's word for it that
a fair land lay beyond. What if they made the treacherous crossing, only to
find a barren land beyond? It was better to face what they knew than take on a
whole new set of unimaginable troubles. They could bear their troubles as long
as the Lady continued to provide. At the worst, should Men prove more numerous
and troublesome, the hobbits might pick up and move further to the North, and
deeper into the wood. Surely they'd find safety and plenty there.
In the Spring that followed, more Men moved into the vale and wood, a strange
black murk appeared in the Forest stream, and Beech went out to hunt and
brought back a black squirrel amongst the others he'd shot on a fine Spring
day.
There were several notable happenings besides that black squirrel. Blackthorn
became an adult in the community, along with his good friends Oakleaf and Roughbark and several
others. When these had proven their knowledge and skill there was a welcoming
feast deep in the woods where as yet no Man walked. Groups of hobbits sat upon
hides spread on the forest floor, or stood together, eating, talking, and
laughing. The freshly-welcomed adults, resplendent in the new cloaks
symbolising their change of status in the community, moved amongst the groups,
receiving congratulations.
Beech clapped his nephew on the back. 'Nice shooting, Black,' he said. 'I do
believe I'll ask you to be my hunting partner now that you're all grown up.'
'You'll have to vie with me for the
honour,' Ches laughed, coming up to them, gnawing on
the leg of a roasted fowl. 'What do you say, Black?'
'I'll say only that I'm hungry!'
Blackthorn grinned in reply.
'Plenty more where this came from,' Ches answered.
'A wise answer,' Beech said at the same
time, pretending solemnity.
'I'd expect wise answers from now on,' Ches said in aside. 'He is a hobbit grown, you know.'
'I had heard something to that effect,'
Beech answered. 'Poor fellow, all grown up and about to
starve to death in his first day.'
'Not a chance!' Holly said, coming up
with a laden tray. 'Hail, Brother! We who are but children salute thee.'
'Bless you, child,' Blackthorn said,
taking a piece of roasted fowl. A laughing Oakleaf
came up then, and Holly blushed and dropped her eyes, but held out her tray to
him.
'Thank you, lass, I was perishing,' Oakleaf said, picking up a piece for himself and biting
into the juicy, succulent roast. 'You do not know how much work it is to prove
yourself amongst these Fallohides,' he added when he'd
swallowed the mouthful.
'I'd heard,' Holly said, raising her
eyes to meet his gaze.
'Perhaps you'd leave the tray with my
friend and his uncles, and walk with me,' Oakleaf
added. 'I've found a lovely pocket of sweet violets to share.'
Blackthorn looked up in surprise, and Oakleaf added
softly. 'I've asked your father and mother, and they've given their blessing.'
'I'll gladly go with you,' Holly said,
her eyes bright with joy.
'Here, let me take that,' Ches said, lifting the tray from her grasp. 'No use letting this go to waste.'
Oakleaf held out his hand, and Holly, with a swift
glance at the others, placed hers in it, then the two walked slowly away,
singing as they went. Others hearing the song smiled and exchanged wise and
understanding looks. Another family had been formed to add to the community, a
promise of new life and new hope.
'She's a child,' Blackthorn said in
protest. 'How could Da—'
'She's but a year younger than you are,
Black,' Ches said quietly. 'My Rose was a year
younger than Holly, even, when I took her to wife.'
'And when will you sing the song?' Beech
asked. 'Will you take up the cloak of adulthood and a wife in the same day as
your friend did?'
'I might ask the same of you,' Blackthorn
said candidly. 'When will you sing the song, Uncle?'
'I've not seen two-score Springs, yet,' Beech said easily. 'There's plenty of time to
settle down. I have to find a lass who can cook as
well as your mum before I leave your family's hole!' Blackthorn let this pass
for an answer. It was common knowledge that his uncle had had his eye on lovely
Linden of the
Leaf family, had been waiting only for her to be old enough to receive her
parents' blessing.
'Oakleaf is a
stout-hearted hobbit,' Ches said, changing the
subject. 'He'll cherish Holly and take good care of her for all of her days,
and she'll do the same for him.'
'Refuse no joy that is set before you,
lad,' Beech added softly. 'If you hesitate, it might slip your grasp and never
be.' He smiled but his eyes were sad. He took another piece of roasted fowl
from the tray Ches held and said, 'I think I'll take
myself off.'
As Blackthorn looked after him, his eyes encountered Root, laughing with wife
Ruby and eldest daughter Lily. Black and Lily had found much to talk about
through the long cold of Winter, coming to an
understanding... 'If you'll excuse me,' he said to Ches.
Following his glance, his uncle answered, 'Of course. Blessed be you both, and
may your family take root and grow long.'
