Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Shire: Beginnings  by Lindelea

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.’





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List