9 Wedmath, 1255 S.R.

It was a warm day in late summer, and the eight children of Gerontius Took found themselves drawn out to the Memorial Garden, each after their own pursuits. Isengrim, the Thain's Heir, was twenty-three now, and the tween had chosen his favourite garden bench to study. The Family Tutor was his father's elder sister Opal Took, and though many lads would scorn to take advanced lessons from a maiden aunt, Isengrim knew better. Aunt Opal was a formidable hobbit matron, keeping order even amongst the most unruly of pupils. He wouldnot cross her!

He glanced at the empty space on the bench beside him, where he imagined Hildigard might have sat with him, a lad just entering the first months of tweenhood, posing a question or two about the new, harder lessons he’d been set. A wistful smile ghosted over his face, as it so often did when he thought of his lost, first brother. His eyes were drawn to the belladonna plant their little sister had planted on Hildigard’s mound, and he sighed softly.

“Oh Hildi, you would have loved her,” Isen said, and his gaze found Belladonna across the garden. She was trotting after Bard and Brand, the two youngest lads, still too young yet for lessons. Soon enough, Bard would begin scratching out his letters on a slate, but Brand had some time to go yet. They tried to run ahead of her, but Bella kept up gamely, and Isengrim chuckled at the trio’s antics. “Up!” Bella crowed as she broke away from the little lads. She bolted toward Isumbras, and Isum yelped as she collided with his legs. “Isum, me up!” she demanded again, and Isumbras raised his eyebrows at his little sister’s demands.

“Bella,” Isum said with infinite patience, “what do we say?”

“Up, Isum,” Bella said again, stamping her foot.

Hilly, Ducky and Gosling stopped their game of catch-me to fix disbelieving eyes on their baby sister. “Bella,” Ducky – Isembold – said incredulously. “You don’t talk like that. Be nice, remember? You’re a big lass, a faunt now, and you can use your manners.”

“Bard doesn’t has to,” Bella pointed out.

“Have to,” Gosling – Hildifons – corrected absently. “And yes, he has to be well mannered.”Or he should have to be. The sixth son of Thain Gerontius frowned at his next-younger brother, and Isembard favoured him with a cheeky smile. Not for the first, or the last, time, the five eldest lads mentally rolled their eyes at their seventh brother’s antics.

“Bard says he doesn’t have to,” Bella replied.

“Well, in here he has to,” Isengrim interjected quietly. “Because this is Hildigard’s special place, and I’m the Thain’s Heir, and I say so.” Isembard shot his eldest brother a jaundiced look, but he couldn’t deny any of it, and scowled.

“Kay, Isen.”

“So now, Bella, what do we say when we want something?” Isengrim asked.

“Please,” Belladonna said politely, and squealed as Isumbras swung her up into his arms. “I flying!”

Unable to resist the temptation, Isengrim put his books away and took Bella from Isumbras to swing her around in his turn. “You are a Bella-bird now, little flower!”

“I be Bella-bird! I fly!” Belladonna giggled. “Isen! Someday I fly over the Sea!”

“Like Elwing?” Isengrim asked, for Gandalf had told the lads somewhat of her story.

“Who Elwing?” Bella inquired, and Isengrim stopped spinning her, settling Bella on his hip.

“Elwing was a princess who lived a long, long time ago. Her grandfather was an Elven king, and her grandmother, some say, was of fairy kind…” And so he launched into the tale.