Of Hobbits and Fairies

In The Hobbit, the narrator mentioned a rumor, or a legend, that the Took family line was intermingled with the blood of fairies.  Of course, that was ridiculous.  But, isn't it true that most tall tales are based on a grain of truth?

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A very long time ago, before adventures well known to you – such as Frodo’s journey to Mordor or Bilbo’s trip to Eribor – and when the Shire was just an undiscovered piece of land home to rabbits and moles and badgers, and other such creatures that live in the ground, and more peculiar creatures known as hobbits had never set foot in it, these creatures called hobbits lived in the forest.  I suppose it could have been a leftover instinct of their ancestors the elves, who of course liked trees, but rather than live in the trees, these hobbits of old burrowed into the ground an made their homes among the roots of the forest.  Those were the days when fairies made themselves known to larger people, and despite hobbit’s small stature, they were perceived as large to fairies.  Not that fairies were particularly small; there had been occasions where rather eccentric old hobbits claimed to have seen ‘normal-sized’ fairies.  But the fact was, these tales were not entirely reliable – taking into account the people who told them – and no one else had ever truly seen a fairy.  Hobbits know, though, beyond a doubt, that fairies existed.  Though they never entered plain sight, they were notorious for stealing socks and other sorts of mischief.  Even so, you would not want to be on fairies’ bad side, and you definitely wanted to be on their good side.  Stories still circulated about that one time the family near the edge of the forest came home to find their home pillaged, or the instance in which the Old Widow came tumbling into a gathering jabbering about the terrible sprites that had tripped her, pushed her, and stolen her walking stick.  The thing that made it a sure thing to know fairies were responsible was the fact that both the family and widow had decided they had had enough fairy shenanigans and had begun to retaliate.  Hobbits soon learned to leave fairies be.  The less you bothered them, the less they bothered you.

Despite the exasperating tendencies of fairies, however, hobbits remained.  They remained, you see, because hobbits then were not too different than they are now.  They are content to live in their hobbit holes, and goodness knows not to mention unpredictability.  Relocating? Out of the question.  It was for this primary reason hobbits stayed to share the forest with fairies.   

          South of the hilly area called the South Downs, there was a forest.  It was in this forest that the small genial people called hobbits lived. These hobbits lived among the roots of these ancient trees, burrowing into the ground and crafting small underground homes and furniture and other such things from the old, large networks of roots.  Though they were small, these little dugouts were intricate, with many rooms and doorways.  There were networks of tunnels connecting each house for the purpose of collecting smoke from the fireplace in each home and carrying it to the edge of the forest.  While they lived underground, they loved the outside and the trees, and no one wanted to have to breathe smoke when they were out and about.

          It was under the mouth of one of these tunnels a certain hobbit put out his fire in a frenzy.  Hobbits are the same as the rest of us: some are always early and some are always late.  This hobbit was one of the ones that was always early, but he was very late on this date.  This day wasn’t a particularly good day for him.  His home, which was new to him, had been under a barrage of some sort from fairies of late.  While others swore fairies’ existence, this hobbit had never seen one, and his childhood home had never been infested with them.  As a result, he had never quite believed they really existed.  Then he moved into the underground house only two trees from the home of the Old Widow, and he now supposed that was a bad judgment.  Perhaps it was bad luck to live so close to one who is crazy.  Earlier, he had discovered that eleven of his socks had been bitten through.  The dishes in his cupboards had fallen out twice that week so that four mugs and three plates had crashed and scattered throughout the expanse of the kitchen.  Dishes don’t just fall out of cupboards – not on their own, at least.  Not too long ago, he had walked past the washroom to see puddles of water and suds splashed on the floor around the washtub.  They had begun to leak into the hallway as well.  The maid said she had stepped out for only a moment to put some clean clothes to dry.  And now, as he was late, soot and ash and dirt had flown out of the tunnel above his fireplace, filling the entire room with soot.  The fire in his mantel had reappeared twice after he had put it out, and it is rather foolish to leave a fire going when no one is home.  And so, he was very late for his grandmother’s hundred and forty-thirth birthday.  As you well know, birthdays, as well as any celebration, are taken very seriously by hobbits.  And now, as he was fretting over his tardiness, he finally put out the flame and rushed from the room before it could reignite.                  

Orietor didn’t like his name, and so he seldom used it.  Indeed, he seldom even needed to answer to it nowadays, because he had recently come of age, and with this honor comes the responsibility of living in one’s own home.  With his mother long dead and life on his own, he was free to call himself whatever he liked.  And so he introduced himself as Took. 

Took made his new home within the roots of a beautiful oak not far from the center of the forest that had long been envied by some families, and came to him by virtue of birthright.  It had been his grandfather’s, but because of a falling out within his mother’s side of the family, no one had wanted it until now.  Hurrying down the path, he thought that maybe there was more to the story than that.  Who in their right mind would desire to live in a house infested with something as absurd as fairies? 

“Good morning, child!” Took was startled and faced the voice to see his neighbor, the Old Widow, on her front porch.

“Er, good morning,” he replied shortly and continued to walk past her tree.  Or he would have, if she hadn’t suddenly been standing resolutely in his path, grinning toothily at him.  He pulled up.

“Excuse me,” he briefly smiled in an effort to be polite and stepped sideways to rush around her.  Except, again, she was standing in the way.  He frowned and inclined his head in confusion.  She still smiled the cheeky smile.  Took exhaled, “Can I help you?” 
“Here!” the Widow shoved a leather something into his immediate vision.  Took jumped.  Focusing on the object, he saw it was a satchel – just an ordinary bag.  His brows furrowed and he glanced at the smiling Widow, and at the bag again suspiciously. 
“What is it?” he asked. 

“For you,” she grinned.  “Careful, now.  She’s my favorite.”  Took was confused.

“Er, thank you, but I don’t really…” he stopped there because she had already slung it over his shoulder and was walking back to her tree.  He frowned at her back.  She was humming.  “Hmph,” he said. 

Deciding to not think about it, he continued even faster down the path to the party.

Took had arrived late to the birthday party, as was expected.  His grandmother had been happy to see him.  His young nieces and nephews and cousins had been expecting him to come play with them earlier, but were happy after he had arrived.  His mother had been cross with him.  He told her what had happened, and she said, “Nonsense.”

After it was over, he had hurried to depart and was now rushing back to his home.  He wasn’t looking forward to seeing what had happened while he was away.

On the path returning to his house, he found the Old Widow running toward him.  He braced himself. 

“Run!” she exclaimed.  “Run, run, as fast as you can!” she cackled.  She continued to run in the opposite direction.  Took shook his head and walked on. 

A loud noise startled him, and he looked behind him to see what had caused it.  He saw nothing immediately, but upon looking closer, he saw trees shaking.  The trees in this forest were old, and very large.  The Old Widow didn’t cause that.  She glanced at him, surprised to see him still standing there. 

“Run!” she yelled once more.  The forest shook screamed, and he needed no more prompting.  He could hear the Old Widow repeatedly yelling and telling hobbits to run as he fled.

The pounding and crashing that shook the forest seemed to catch up with Took as he sped up.  And he was running fast.  He took all the shortcuts and passes he knew would lead him to the edge of the forest as quick as possible.  As night crept closer, he could discern a glow if he risked looking behind.  Not having the time nor the energy to ponder it, he ran on toward the edge of the forest.  What had always been the safest place in the world was no longer safe, and the only safety now lay outside the borders of the forest.  It was a reversal of reality, and Took didn’t appreciate it. 

After what seemed like forever, Took could perceive an end to the enormous expanse of trees.  Beyond the edge of the forest, where the sky was more visible, the sky took on a lighter shade of dark.  He barreled toward it, propelled by the noise chasing him.  No sooner had he reached the rather abrupt end to the tree line than a pair of grubby arms grabbed him, pulling him to the ground. 

He yelped as he struggled to get away, succeeding and subsequently squinting through the darkness to see what had attacked him.  The offender was muttering and staring at him wide eyed from the ground.  Took saw it was the old and senile hermit that lived on the edge of the forest.  Boriodoc, Took believed his name was.

“What do you want?” Took demanded harshly, edging further away from the trees.  The noise was still growing louder.     

“What’s happenin’?” the old hobbit whimpered, his wide eyes glinting in the gradually increasing glow. 

Took stopped abruptly, his own eyes widening as he looked at the growing glow and pondered the question.  “I don’t know,” he said.

A particularly distinct crash jolted Took back into action, and he resumed his run.  He didn’t know how far away safe was in the Widow’s opinion, but he assumed he would need to be further from the tree line than he was.

“Wait!” the old hobbit called.  “Where are you going?”  Took glanced over his shoulder and saw Boriodoc on his feet doing a strange hobble-jog after him.  He groaned and turned back to sling his new companion’s arm over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” Took mumbled in answer.  Boriodoc looked at him. 

“Well, what do you know, lad?”  It was Took’s turn to look at the other and glare.  Together, they made their way away from the noise and strange glow as quickly as possible. 

Throughout the night, the strange glow grew and grew, but the farther away Took and Boriodoc got, the less they could see of it.  So, they still had no knowledge of what had happened to their home.  Though Took wondered of it, Boriodoc seemed not to.  He was rather… content.  After several hours’ walking Took was not too sure he wouldn’t begin complaining about the state of his hygiene and lamenting a lack of bed soon.  Of course, that seemed to not bother the elderly hobbit one bit.  It had been a full day since the Widow had shoved the satchel into Took’s possession, and as he had spent most of that time running, he had yet to look inside.  He did not know where he was going; perhaps the Widow had been kind enough to provide him with direction.  He dropped the bag, and then himself, on the ground and eagerly began to rummage through it in search of a map of some sort.  To his left, he saw Boriodoc sit out of the corner of his eye, and he could feel the old hobbit’s stare.

“What’re you doin’ there?” Boriodoc asked.  On some level, Took was irritated at having to attempt politeness (he was far too tired for that), but at the same time, he was grateful that he was not alone.  And so he answered, “Looking to see what we’ve got.”

He could feel Boriodoc’s puzzlement.  “You don’t know what you’ve got in your own bag?”

“It’s not my bag.”

“Whose is it?” Boriodoc asked.

“Well, I suppose it’s mine now,” Took said, looking at Boriodoc with and expression that said to be quiet.   “I still don’t know what’s in it.”  

Boriodoc hmpfed and continued to pay interest to Took’s bag.

Took found some food – several biscuits, some meat, a water skin, even some dried figs and raisins.  At the bottom of the bag he discovered several loose leaves of parchment, but upon inspecting them, he found they were blank.  He pawed through the bag again and flipped it upside down, hoping he had missed something.  There was nothing, although an insect had taken to crawling up his leg.  He flicked it off.  He fancied he heard a screech, but that must be the hunger and exhaustion playing with him.  He took stock of the food again and was parceling out some for both him and Boriodoc when Boriodoc nudged him.

“Hm,” he said, and looked at Boriodoc from the side.  Boriodoc’s face was dubious, but it was not directed toward him.  Took followed Boriodoc’s gaze and saw something… well, something odd.  Where there had been nothing and no one before, a young female – not a hobbit, though she was the right size – gave a great shudder.  Took’s face must have mirrored Boriodoc’s, but at the moment he was paying more attention to the fuss she was making. 

“… Rather rude to flick someone, don’t you think? So why did you do it?” She glared at him, and he winced. 

“And why have we stopped?” she asked, her face turning to confusion.   “We aren’t supposed to stop yet.  We’re still to close,” she looked toward the direction from which they had come. 

The not-hobbit took note of Boriodoc, “Who’s this?” she returned her gaze to Took, who seemed to be the focal point of her frustration.  “I didn’t think you were bringing anyone with you.  The Widow certainly didn’t pack enough for three.  So why did you bring him? I’m sorry…” she continued to say something about how they would have to make better time or they would starve, but Took got the idea that she would continue talking until someone stopped her.

“Pardon me,” he said, though his voice must not have been loud enough, because she continued to ramble.  “Pardon me,” he spoke much louder this time.  She looked at him in surprise. 

“Granted,” she said. “Now, as I was saying, we will need…” she was cut off again. 

“What?” Took asked. 

She raised her eyebrows.  “I was just about to tell you.  We need to…” 
“No.”  Took stood.  “Before that.  Granted?”

“Oh,” she exclaimed in realization.  “You begged my pardon.  I’m not entirely sure why, but of course, it is always polite to grant a pardon when it is asked for.”  She smiled generously.  His face turned to incredulity.

“I was not asking your pardon.”

“Why not?  You interrupted.  It was rude.  You were right to beg my pardon.”

Took glanced at Boriodoc, who shrugged indifferently. “No.  I was… It was only a polite way of saying I had something to say!”

“Well, it isn’t very polite if you have to interrupt someone to say it, now is it?” she responded.  

He squared his shoulders and huffed.  “What is your name,” he demanded.

“Theadora,” she smiled brightly. 

“And where did you come from?” he asked, looking around. 

“From the bag.”

“From the bag,” he repeated.  He looked at the satchel.  “Nonsense.”

“What do you mean, nonsense?” Boriodoc piped up.  Took looked at him in confusion. 

“I mean she’d never fit in the bag.”  He picked the bag up for emphasis. 

“Where else could she have come from?” Boriodoc smiled at Theadora, and she returned it. 

“Just look at her.”  Both hobbits looked at her.  “She’s too big to fit inside the bag, and I was searching through it just now.”

Theadora huffed and disappeared. 

Took’s eyes went very wide, and Boriodoc smirked. 

“Where…”  Took began to speak, but Boriodoc had moved to where Theadora had been standing.  He knelt down, and when he stood, it looked to Took as if he had a grasshopper perching on his hand. 
Took squinted.  “Is that… her?”

The grasshopper jumped off of Boriodoc’s hand, and by the time it had reached the ground, it had become Theadora once more. 

“So. You were in the bag,” Took said.

“Yes.  I was in the bag.”   

“How?” Took asked. 

“I just showed you,” Theadora frowned.  “I can show you again…”  She shifted in her stance. 
“No, no,” Took stopped her.  “I’ve got it.  But, why?”  

“Why, I’m a fairy,” Theadora said brightly, then her face clouded.  “That is what you meant, isn’t it?”

“Huh,” he said.  He turned to Boriodoc.  “This does not surprise you?”

Boriodoc shrugged and smiled again at Theadora. 

“Fairies do not exist.”  Took changed his mind at the look she gave him.   

“Shall we go then?” Boriodoc asked. 

“Yes, let’s!” Theadora exclaimed.

Boriodoc bent to gather up the items that had fallen from the satchel.  Took absently took them from him and replaced them in the bag.

Much later, after the sun had reached the high point in the sky, and the three had stopped their journey to partake in a small meal, they continued to walk. 

Boriodoc had already introduced himself and Took, and Theadora had taken to calling Boriodoc simply ‘Doc’.  Theadora was a bright soul – endearing to ‘Doc’, and a bit too bright for Took.  To hear her tell her tale was amazing to Took – he had never imagined that any hobbit entertained such pests as fairies.  That Old Widow had tricked him into carrying her beloved fairy out of the forest, he thought.  But of course that was ridiculous, Theadora would say.  “The Old Widow is too kind to be so nefarious. And as for your insinuation of her insanity, rubbish.  She is kind to everyone.  Do not fault her for that.”  Nevertheless, the Old Widow had gotten wind of what was coming from her various fairy friends, and had convinced Took to carry a satchel – with Theadora in it – out of the forest.  What was coming?  Theadora did not know. Where were they to go? Theadora knew the name of a town on a river straight to the east.  How far was it to get there? Theadora was not sure.  What she was, thought Took, was living up to the reputation fairies had among hobbits.  Mischievous, he thought.  Just like the fairies who had caused the tub to overflow in his washroom. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed.  “Have you ever been in my house?”

Theadora stopped her prancing and dancing and looked at him askance.  She averted her eyes and spoke to Boriodoc instead.  “Doc, dear.  Did you not say you lived on the very edge of the forest?  My, that must be exciting.  And don’t you like it there because the best mushrooms and poppies grew there?”

That answered that.  Took pursed his lips and continued on while they continued to chat behind him. 

Took’s head hurt.  His shoulders cramped, and his feet felt as if they were about to fall off at any moment.  He couldn’t remember walking for such a long period of time ever before.  Meanwhile, that fairy ran about and did somersaults midair.  If he were in better spirits, he might have found humor in the situation.  Theadora was having a marvelous time launching herself into the air and shrinking at the apex, so as to have quite a long fall to return to the path, where she would return to a visible size.  Her excited giggles at each new trick did nothing good for his head.  Boriodoc was shuffling behind him, mumbling about “not having seen a decent mushroom since the last…” something or other.  Of course, whining did not particularly help matters either. 

Took sighed and adjusted the satchel over his shoulder.  He tried again to think of somewhere outside the forest that was a good and safe place to go, only to remember that he knew practically nothing of the world outside, and that his companions knew just as much. 

“Took?”

“Hm,” he grunted in response, not registering completely.

“Took.”

This time he registered a face invading his personal space and jerked back.  “What is it Theadora?”  He stepped around her and she pivoted to follow closely behind. 

“I was wondering, sir, where you are planning on taking us?” she asked in what he perceived as a rather mocking tone.  Took ground his teeth. 

“Nowhere, Theadora.”  Took stopped to face her.  “I plan to remain in this enormous clearing forever, away from all things civilized, all things comfortable, without food, with filthy clothes, in the middle of a great big nowhere, and the two of you will have to stay here with me ‘til the end of this age!”  He exasperatedly returned to the path ahead of them. 

Theadora, a bit shocked that he had yelled at her, followed in silence.  It was all silence for a short time, for which Took was grateful for, until Boriodoc spoke up, “Wherever we’re goin’, they’d better have some good hot food.”

Theadora grinned, apparently past her hurt feelings, and said, “And some nice mushrooms, too, Doc?” 

Boriodoc said nothing, only looked at her with a small grin. 

When they finally reached a small patch of foliage, they decided to remain there for the night.  At least there was a bit of firewood.  Took dropped the satchel from his arm and plopped down with a grimace.  Boriodoc, being the elderly hobbit he was, sat down gingerly.  Even the chipper fairy was not so chipper anymore, having tired rather quickly after Took had yelled at her earlier. 

After some time, Theadora asked, “Are we going to make a fire?” 

“I suppose,” Took said.  “Though we don’t have anything to cook.” 

Theadora nodded and proceeded to get up and search for some wood.  Boriodoc rose as well, though he ambled off in the other direction.  “Probably looking for mushrooms,” Took muttered under his breath. 

He looked down at his side where he had dropped the satchel.  He pressed his lips together and picked it up, dumping the contents out as he did.  Perhaps there was something the Widow had left in there that might help, though he had been through it before.  Theadora hadn’t seen anything else in it either, and she had hid in it herself. 

Took sifted through the contents, taking inventory once more.  One water skin, nearly empty.  It had been a rather warm day since they had passed the last creek.  A few biscuits, some dried meet.  Almost gone.  Some loose leaves of paper.  Useless. 

Hobbits had often thought of the edges of the forest as being the edges of the world.  Though that couldn’t be the case, it certainly appeared that way.  There was nothing out here.  And yet, the Widow had forbidden him from returning any time soon.  Once again, he questioned within his mind the wisdom of following the instruction of a crazy person.  And yet Theadora (arguably another crazy person) had said earlier the Widow was more in her right mind than many others.  And to a point, her instruction had proven sound…  Whatever had happened in the forest, he hadn’t been caught up in it.  But then, that was before he had found himself in the wilderness with a fairy and a somewhat senile hobbit. 

Presently, he became aware of someone behind him. He turned in his seat to see Theadora staring at the objects spilled from the satchel. 

“What do you think happened?” she asked, looking at him with a look a little too serious than he was comfortable receiving from her.  Seriousness did not suit her, he found himself thinking. 

She walked around him to drop the sticks in her arms in the center of the little clearing he sat in.  “I mean, to home?”  She sat down across from him and began to work on starting a fire.  He stared at her.  The forest was her home too.  He had forgotten in the midst of his self-pity that she had been robbed of her home as well.  They all had. 

“I don’t know,” he answered. 

“Do you think we can go back?” She looked up at him.  “Did you hear the noises, Took? They were so loud.  Could you feel them?” 

He furrowed his brow and shook his head.  “How do you feel noise?”

“Oh, right.  You’re big.” He frowned and she went back to tending the fire.  “When I’m small, I can feel sounds.  Not as much now, but in that satchel, I could feel them really well.  And it was dark.”  She glanced at him again. 

“I didn’t feel the sounds,” he said.

She worked and he watched in silence for several minutes. 

Took took a breath, “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.” 

Theadora looked up at him and smiled brightly.  “Oh, I forgive you,” she said.

He found himself smiling – just a bit – in return.  He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a rather loud noise in the brush surrounding him and Theadora. 

“Look! You can eat ‘em!”  Took bit back a chuckle as Boriodoc shoved some nasty looking tangle of dirt and roots close to Theadora’s face.  Her face scrunched up and she pulled away from him. 

“Doc!  What is that?” she demanded. 
“What is it?” he repeated and examined the root.  “I dunno.  But I’ve seen rabbits eat ‘em!  Mm hm.  I’ve tried ‘em.  They ain’t too bad.  An’ the rabbits that eat ‘em taste good too!”  He sat down happily by the fire and began to shake the dirt off of the plant.  Took hid his smirk from Theadora, who was trying to brush the loose dirt that had fallen on her from the root from her lap with a decidedly disgusted expression on her face.  

The next night they would spend in an inn, for which Took and Theadora were grateful.  Boriodoc, however, had to be coerced into taking a bath. 

That day had been spent walking, but it wasn’t all miserable.  They had passed a creek, and so were able to refill the water skin.  That brightened their spirits some.  They ate the last of the little food in the satchel, however, and were beginning to wonder if they would find the town Theadora mentioned. 

When noon had past, Theadora heard water.  “A lot of it,” she said.  They continued to walk, and after a farther distance than they would have liked, they were able to spot a town on the banks of a river.  Once they had come closer, they began to think a little more about a plan.  What were they to do now?  Surely, they could not remain in this little town forever.  

“Nonsense,” Took said.  “We cannot plan the remainder of our lives in one afternoon.  We simply need to move one step at a time.” 

“Agreed,” Theadora paused.  “What is the step, then?”

Took thought.  “We need a place to spend the night.”

“In there?” Boriodoc asked in a skeptical way.  Took was reminded that the hermit preferred living on the edge of society. 
“Of course, Doc,” Theadora said.  “And we won’t be separated.  You’ll come with us.” 

And that was that.  They were going – all of them – to find lodging in this small town on the river. 

Once the three had come closer, however, Theadora had shrunk to her smallest size and, perched on Took’s shoulder, shouted into his ear.

“Fairies are told as children stories about how larger people take joy in quashing us.  Hobbits are frightening enough, but these large beings?”  Took tried to focus on her face, and the result was rather comical.

“I’m going to hide in the satchel,” she said, and proceeded to make her way down Took’s arm to jump into the opening of the leather bag. 

“You know,” said Took, “the bigger you are, the less chance you have of being stepped on.”

Theadora poked her head out of the opening and glared at him before returning to the safety of the satchel.

The manager at the inn frowned at the two hobbits and muttered something bout indecent beardless dwarves.  Nevertheless, he took the few coins Took had left in his pockets the morning of his grandmother’s birthday party in exchange for a meal for each hobbit and a small room upstairs.  The common room of the inn was bustled with large humans, who were largely, in Took’s opinion, lacking in the area of hygiene.  The two hobbits seated themselves at a table in an obscure corner of the room.  Their table was concealed from the rest of the room by a larger table which seated men involved in an intense discussion.

Took and Boriodoc sat quietly and ate, and couldn’t help hearing parts of the discussion that took place next to them.  Took heard men speaking of Duthion Forest and of the South Downs, of places called Arnor and Mordor, and of people with strange names.  Most of the names were meaningless to Took, but his ears perked up when he heard something about the burning of Duthion by the Dark Lord’s forces.  Why would he care about a simple forest so far north?  The men were at a loss.  A youth spoke up.

“Because fairies live there,” he said, and one could see he felt rather foolish for saying it.  Took reached down into the satchel to pull Theadora out.

“That’s nonsense, boy.  Nursery tales,” said an older man sitting next to him.  He shook his head and started to say something else.

“But don’t most stories conceal truth, Father?” the young man interrupted.  “And even if the tale is complete rubbish, it doesn’t mean the Dark Lord doesn’t take it seriously.  Even if it is false, is there any other reason he would burn an entire forest that held no significance?”

By this time, Took had persuaded Theadora to leave her refuge, and she was listening just as raptly.  People outside the forest considered her a nursery tale? 

The man frowned and looked at his son, then at the other men seated at the table.  “The fact remains, the Dark Lord is moving north – far north.  I’m afraid without the aid of the elves, we cannot stand to be stretched so far.”  He looked at the map – for that was what it was, as far as Took could tell – and pointed.  “Aiden, move your men here.  I will continue to Rivendell, and you keep yourself aware of our enemy’s movements.  We will return, and travel back to Minas Tirith,” he said as he sat back in his seat, appearing to be exhausted.  “I am sure the good regent is ready to be relieved.”

The man addressed nodded, and he and two others stood from the table and moved away.  The man addressed his son quietly, but Took didn’t care to hear what he was saying.  He was worried they might remove the map.  He was worried upon hearing of the burnt forest, and he could tell from Theadora’s mannerisms and even Boriodoc’s face that he was not the only one.

“Theadora,” Took began.  “Can you get a look at that map?”

She was too small to see clearly, but he thought she might have looked at him and huffed exasperatedly.  She did not like large people all that much.  Nevertheless, she proceeded to make her way from his hand to the boot of the son.  She climbed up to perch on his shoulder for a few moments, then made her way back to Took and Boriodoc.  The youth must have noticed something, because he squinted over his shoulder at Took and Boriodoc, as if there was something he couldn’t quite figure out.  Boriodoc returned his stare openly and unsettlingly and Took avoided his gaze, surreptitiously opening the satchel for Theadora to hop in unnoticed. 

“I think they were talking about our forest,” Theadora said after they had gotten to their rented room and she had shifted to her normal – or, at least, visible – size.                  

“Did you see it on the map?” Took asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen a map of outside the forest,” she said apologetically.  Took nodded, resigned.

“But,” she said, “I think the forest they were talking about is ours.”

“Who burnt it?” Boriodoc asked.  “Who’s this Dark Lord?”

“I don’t know, Doc,” Theadora responded and sat on the only chair in the room.

“What do we do now?” she directed the question at Took, who had been staring hard at the floorboards from his seat on the single bed.  He looked up.

“Do you think anyone… survived?”

No one responded, and all three looked ill.  None had thought of that.  If the forest had burned down, what had happened to its inhabitants? 

“Well,” Theadora started.  “The fairies…”  She was interrupted by a loud noise that came from many directions at once.  She looked perplexed for a moment, glancing back and forth between Took and Boriodoc.  The glow that had not been before was now coming through the window, and Took thought he recognized it.  He ran to the window.

“Fire!” he shouted.  “Go, go!” he grabbed the satchel from where it had been lying on the bed and rushed the other two from the room.  They ran down the stairs and into the common room, which was now on fire.  When they reached outside, Took saw enormous repulsive creatures fighting the men who had been talking at the table next to them not long before silhouetted by the flames.  Theadora shrieked, but to her credit, did not shrink this time.  Instead, she pulled Took and Boriodoc around the side of the building, only to see more combat and fire.  Took glanced at Boriodoc.  He looked ill. 

The three continued to run, not knowing where they were going, only that they needed to escape the flames.  They passed another sparring pair.  The human slew his enemy before they could leave the alley, and he yelled, “You there!”

Boriodoc continued to edge out of the alley, but Took turned and saw that their addresser was the young man Theadora had climbed on earlier.

The youth moved closer and spoke to them.  “I recognize you.  You were eavesdropping earlier this night.”  He looked at Theadora.  “And there were only two of you.”  Took, Boriodoc, and Theadora looked at each other uneasily, for they were being questioned by a stranger in the midst of a burning town. 

The youth registered something behind them, and, before they could turn, shoved them aside and struck the attacker with his weapon.  He looked at them again. 

Theadora stepped forward.  “You were right,” she declared nervously.  “Fairies exist.”  She held her head up nervously.

He examined her and nodded.  “Come,” he said simply.  Took followed him.  The others were more hesitant, but there was not time or place to argue.  They followed.

They were led onto a more crowded street on which more violence was taking place.  Theadora visibly cringed, but was pulled forward by Took.  Ahead, Took saw the boy’s father fighting in a cluster – or at least thought it was the father.  It was hard to determine in all the chaos and flickering light. The boy was fighting his way past the clusters of combat, creating a path for his small charges.  He turned back for just a moment to ensure Took and the others were following, and in that moment, the man whom he thought was the father was struck down.  Took heard himself cry out.  In the distance there were cries of “To the king!” or “Get him to safety,” or “Where’s the prince?”

The boy whirled around to see what had happened, and shock registered on his face.  He echoed Took and cried out to the man, but was forcibly pulled away from the conflict by his people, and Took and the others knew of nothing else to do but follow him.

The following morning, Took, Theadora, and Boriodoc awoke to the smell of smoke and blood and decay. 

Following the fall of the father – or king, as they heard in the midst of the conflict – the monsters that had attacked the town and burnt it had been overcome fairly quickly.  It hadn’t been a large force, one of the men told Took.  If it had been, the outcome might have been different.  Despite that, many townspeople had died, and the entire town had burned to the ground. 

As it would happen, there had been debates over the possibility of this very thing for some time.  The townspeople were divided; the location and relative defenselessness was unbecoming to many in “these uncertain times”.  Took did not know what the man meant by “these uncertain times”, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with the burning of his own home.  The people were now decided, though.  They would follow the king to Rohan, and then perhaps even Gondor.  Surely, they would be safer there.

“What king?” Theadora wanted to know.  

The man looked mournful.  “I suppose it is Isildur, now,” he said and left them to their rest.  They looked at each other.

“Are we supposed to know who Isildur is, then?” Boriodoc asked. 

“I think,” Took said slowly, “Isildur is the boy who rescued us.” 

They were silent for a time, until the youth in question approached them at that moment and joined them around their fire.  It looked as if he had wept. 

He looked at each of them in turn, and they looked back before speaking.

“Thank you, sir,” Theadora said. 

The boy, Isildur, furrowed his brow.  “For what?”

“Why, for saving us last night, of course,” she answered. 

“Of course,” he inclined his head.

They were silent for a few moments.

“If you are a fairy, then,” Isildur addressed Theadora, “might you know how to defeat the Dark Lord?”

Theadora looked at Took. 

Took asked, “What is the Dark Lord?”

Isildur frowned, perhaps at the ignorance of the hobbits.

“He is evil,” Isildur said.  “He is responsible for the burning of your forest, and of this town.”  He looked in the direction the town had stood.  “He is the cause of the terror spreading throughout these lands, even this far north.  His power reaches far – too far.”  He returned his gaze to Theadora.  “And if he destroyed your forest out of a fear that you might have the power to overcome him, there are those of us who fight him that could use your help.”

“You want Theadora’s help?” Boriodoc asked. 

Isildur nodded.  “You might come as well, considering you have no forest to which you can return.”

The three looked away.  Theadora spoke. 

“I cannot help you,” she said.  Isildur frowned. 

“All we fairies can do is grow or shrink.  Something tells me that your nursery tales exaggerate, and while we have excellent aim and can move unseen, and are excellent at causing mischief, I do not think we are a match for your Dark Lord.”  She looked defiantly at this new king, and Took thought she might have been irate with him for making her remember the state of her home and people.

Isildur inclined his head, schooling his face to have no emotion, and looked at Took and Boriodoc for their responses. 
Doc said, “I’m goin’ back to the best mushrooms I’ve ever tasted.” 

Took looked at Theadora.  It looked as if she had finally realized the weight of knowing that her home was no more.  And so it did the same within him.
“Do you know that all our people are dead?” he asked.  Isildur frowned.  “It seems to me,” Took went on, “that now that we know what is happening out here, we should return and inform those who are left.  Surely there are survivors.”     

Isildur looked doubtful.  “It is not safe here.  You cannot defend yourselves – I am doubtful if your people can either.”

Took stood up.  “Then we will have to go somewhere where we won’t need to.”

Isildur narrowed his eyes.  “There will not be any such place if our enemy is not overcome.” 

“Well,” said Theadora, “then, we will come find you if our people really are… dead.” 

“Not me,” said Boriodoc.  “I’m stayin’.”  He looked around at the people who had made it out of the fire.  “Never liked people, anyway.”

Some of the matronly women who had escaped the fire had seen to it that Took, Theadora, and Boriodoc had enough food packed in their satchel for the way home.  Or, where home had been.  Isildur’s men (for they were his now – he was king) stared and wondered at the strange small beings.  Most had heard of creatures called hobbits, but none had seen such a thing.  Took wondered what they would have done had they known Theadora was a fairy. 

Nevertheless, when Isildur and a few of his men continued to the place called Rivendell (Theadora had learned it was a city of elves), and the townspeople began their way to the south, Took, Theadora, and Boriodoc left for the west.  On this journey, they had been given a map, for which Took was grateful for.  Theadora might not mind long, endless treks, and they might not register in Boriodoc’s mind, but Took minded.  He was determined to reach the forest as soon as possible. 

Days passed during their travels once more, but they came more easily for Took.  He no longer had a short temper when it came to the fairy in his company, and having spent so much time traveling already, he did not mind the strain on his back and feet – not quite as much, at least.

They had been warned to be wary of the enemy’s forces, but they had not seen one ugly monster (whatever it was called – Boriodoc had learned the name of the creatures, but hadn’t cared enough to remember it) in the time it took to depart from the humans and to arrive at the forest – or what was left of it.

When they first saw the forest after returning, they did not immediately recognize that they had reached it.  What caused them to recognize their home was the presence of hobbits far away on the outskirts of the ashes.  They made their way to the others and were dismayed to see so few of them. 

They heard stories of monsters who had come and knocked over trees and lit them on fire, some pulling hobbits up with the roots.  They had thought Took was among the dead, and he assured them he was not. 
“In fact, I’ve been doing something extremely useful, and I know what we’ve got to do now.”

At some point, Theadora had gasped and run into the ash, shrinking as she did so, thus making it impossible for Took to follow her.  He looked after her and assured himself she would be back.

A day passed, and she was not back.  Took urgently felt that the surviving hobbits needed to move immediately, and began to organize them, using his map to plan. 

Another day had passed, and still he had not seen Theadora.  Took and the other hobbits began what they had come to call the great migration, because they had never moved before.  And now they were moving great distances.  Took led them around the South Downs and across the plains that came after, and people looked to him to make the decisions.  Even Boriodoc came along, despite having insisted he would stay in his edge of forest. 

Took and Boriodoc discovered that other hobbits now had a sort of phobia of trees.  It seemed they could not be near to trees, for fear of it being uprooted and lit on fire.  Even so, the hobbits seemed to not take seriously the threat of the possibility that the enemy’s monsters might come back. 

Took and Boriodoc had therefore taken it upon themselves to keep watch at night, taking turns throughout.  It was something they had seen the humans do when they had spent time with them.  But for Took, it was not entirely about the threat.  He looked to where they had come from in hopes that he might see a fairy running to catch up. 

The third night, he arrived at the appointed time to relieve Boriodoc.  He didn’t see Boriodoc sitting against a slight rise in the earth, but Boriodoc caught him looking wistfully at the direction they had come from. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you fancied the fairy.”  Took jumped a bit at Boriodoc’s voice. 

He turned to face the old hobbit and cocked his head.  “You obviously know better,” he said, and he moved to sit next to his friend.  

The hobbit – decidedly senile, thought Took – raised his eyebrows and turned his gaze to the dark horizon.  “And how do you know she is not already with us?”

Took snapped his head to look at the other.  “Is she?” he asked.

Boriodoc smirked, and Took rolled his eyes back to the darkness in front of him.  The two sat like that for some time.    

“Well, I’d better be goin’,” said Boriodoc presently.  Took nodded absently as his friend left him. 

Took examined the map.  There was nothing here – just hills.  The ground was nice for farming and digging, and the only trees in sight were very distant.  The other hobbits seemed to like their stopping place, and Boriodoc had already made off for the nearest patch of forest.  Why not stay here?  He looked around, saw that his people were happy to stay, and made off to find his own hill.  For some reason, he felt as if he were being followed, but every time he looked behind him, there was nothing of note. 

Eventually, he found a nice hill.  If he put the front door just there, it would face the sun in the mornings.  He could put a garden right here, and some window above it.  He stopped.  He still hadn’t seen Theadora since she ran into the ashes.  He climbed to the crest of the hill and seated himself.  Presently, he heard a voice.

“Why so glum?” Theadora asked.  He sighed.

“I thought someone was following me.”

She sat next to him.  “I like this hill,” she said.  “I think I’ll keep it.”

He glanced at her sideways.  “I already claimed it.”

“No, you haven’t,” she said.

“I’m sitting on top of it.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It means that I got here first.”

“Your point?”

“It is mine, Theadora,” he stated.  “But you’re welcome to visit if you like.”  He smiled politely.

She pursed her lips. “I don’t want to visit.  I want to live here.”

“You want to live with me?” he smirked.

“Live with you?” she exclaimed.  “You, sir are an unmarried hobbit, and I am an unmarried fairy,” she reprimanded him. 

He looked at her, and she looked back defiantly. 

“Well,” he said at last, “There is a solution to everything.”

She smirked, and they both turned back to the horizon.

Many years had passed since the fire in the forest, and many hobbits had forgotten their fear of trees.  After all, they were just trees. 

Took had dug a nice house from the hill he had claimed, and one of the two children that had run through its halls had wanted to be a fairy, and the other wanted to be a strong warrior – like the king in the stories Took had told.  

Took, Theadora, and Boriodoc settled into their new homes quite nicely.  Took planted the garden right where he first envisioned it, all those years ago.  Theadora did not shrink anymore – she didn’t want to be a bad example for the children.  (Unless, of course, there was cleaning to be done. Some of the dirt that filled the nooks and crannies of the house simply didn’t want to be removed, and it helped if one could become the size of a thumb.)

Boriodoc lived to the end of his days in that first patch of forest he saw, and to hear him tell it, you would think he had the most delightful patch of mushrooms and poppies to be seen.         

The years in the Shire were happy ones, although many grieved the people they had lost with their old home at first.  Took and Theadora lived happily.  But every once in a while, Took would find himself – and, he suspected, Theadora - looking to the east and the south and wondering what might have happened if he had followed the king.