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CHAPTER 1: 15 September 1418 - The best news ever in Buckland!

Oh, how exciting! I don't know if I will be able to contain the joy! My dear brother, Fatty, said to stay here and do what ladies do to help their mums. Then, he went to help Merry bring Frodo's things from Bag End to his new place in Crickhollow. I find that in the middle of chores I stare out the window toward the Brandywine, watching and waiting. Mum notices it, I know, and I am sure she guesses my thoughts as she knows me better than any hobbit.

I am so excited that dear Frodo has sold Bag End in Hobbiton and is moving back to Buckland. Oh, to have him back in his homeland! I don’t have memories of him living here as he left while I was still quite young, but the memories since of how kind he has always been to Fatty and me makes this homecoming special in many ways.

Mum once told me about the sad day Mr. Drogo and Ms. Primula fell into the Brandywine and downed, leaving poor Frodo alone when he was but a child. For years it has been rumored that it was no accident, but I ignored the talk. After all, Mr. Drogo was always known to have a sense of adventure in him - "queer as a Baggins" they say around here at Bucklebury. Even while poor orphaned Frodo stayed at Brandy Hall with his cousins there was always talk about his not being like much of the rest of us, though I dare say he gets more of that in the Shire now than he ever did in Buckland. They say the "queerness" of his Baggins heritage is why Bilbo was so quick to take Frodo and raise him as his own heir at Bag End.

I am rambling again in my own journal! Mercy! So excited I am to have Frodo in Buckland! Every time he and Pip come to spend time with Fatty and Merry I long to see him and listen to his stories of Elves and Dwarves and hear him sing the sweet songs once sung by Mr. Bilbo. Merry says Frodo longs to see Mr. Bilbo again, but as he left some seventeen years ago, the year I turned 16 (well before I cared of the matters of the grown-ups), I don't imagine we will see Mr. Bilbo in the Shire again. I am sure he is off with the Elves as he always spoke so fondly of them. After many hearings of his story of the Trolls when I was a child, I always wondered if those Trolls ever really existed, for if they did surely their relatives would not be happy to see Mr. Bilbo traipsing in that neighborhood again!

I so long to see Frodo again, and I so hope that he will take a wife when he comes so I can end this misery of waiting and hoping. Mum says it is not healthy for a young woman to wait long after coming of age, but I will hold out hope a while longer that Frodo will look upon me as fair and worthy as a wife. After all, he has been such a dear friend and I love him so very much.

CHAPTER 2: 25 September 1418 – Fatty, old toad, won’t let me go!

Fatty came by the hole this morning to borrow our washtub. He told about having a wonderful evening Thursday finishing Frodo's wine with the boys. He said Frodo was very funny, and very drunk. I still can't believe he is fifty now, though he has never looked any older than Fatty and Merry when they turned thirty-three.

When I asked about the washtub, Fatty said it was so he could make Frodo welcome at Crickhollow when he got there by drawing him a bath. I was confused until he told me that he needed extra tubs for Pippin and Sam. I laughed and asked if Frodo, having so much stuff, doesn't already have two more tubs tucked away. He looked quite irritated at my jest! I helped Fatty load the tub on the garden cart he brought. Then, I hopped onto the tub and waited for Fatty to start pulling, hoping he would let me go help. He said I couldn't go because I would be in the way. I think he just didn't want his sister hanging around with the boys. You would think he was half Pip's age the way he does sometimes! We fussed a bit about it, but I let him go on before Mum came out and started asking questions about the tub.

After all, I did not have to be pulled on the cart to get there. If I want to go, I can just walk.

Why, then, am I so nervous to even go?

CHAPTER 3: 26 September 1418 – An unwelcome guest, I reckon.

Mum had me do several things to help her around home yesterday. I spent most of the time mending coats for winter. Mum said I should have done it last spring so as not to have so much to do during a harvest season. I so wish she wouldn't make me do it. There are servants in need of employment somewhere in Bucklebury, I am sure.

The night came fast as I was quite busy, but I still planned to go to Crickhollow. Long after Da and Mum retired to their room, I was still curled up in the window of my room looking toward the River. No one had brought tidings of Frodo's arrival, and I knew if I went too early Fatty would send me back. Maybe Merry would let me stay, but not if it is just him and Fatty. Eventually, I slipped on one of my better dresses and pulled my side locks into the comb that Frodo had given me at my coming-of-age party this past spring. The comb is like a good luck charm for me, and I needed good luck tonight.

I left quietly so not to wake the folks around. As I got to the house in Crickhollow, I could hear the sound of pony hooves and some voices, so I picked a stout tree to slip behind where I could stand and watch. I could see Frodo and Pippin walking around the pony and Merry saying something to them. Sam was there, too, carrying a covered basket of some sort. It must have been food for him to be handling it with such care as he did, peeping under the cover to check its contents twice within a few steps. After they went inside, I waited and watched.

When all seemed quiet again, I went up to the door and tried to open it. It was locked! All those visitors, and it was locked behind them as if to keep out some threatening stranger! Just like a Bucklander to do that, too. I could hear lots of activity that sounded like kettles and pans preparing for meal. I knocked, and in a few seconds the peephole opened and shut quickly, then Merry opened the door. There was a wonderful smell of mushrooms cooking.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He stood half through the door holding it the rest of the way shut as if to hide something behind it. I told him I wanted to see Frodo and wish him welcome to his new place, but Merry looked like I had taken his last mushroom puff. "Ya can't see him now," he said. Just then, I heard a great splash of water from another room and Pippin singing loudly. "You gotta go, Stella. The travelers are bathing and we got supper for them. They’re too tired to see anyone now." As if cued by Merry's speech, Pippin got louder and Frodo and Sam were laughing and half-singing, too.

Fatty walked up behind Merry holding two mugs and a towel. He peered over Merry's shoulder to see who it was. When Fatty saw me, he shoved the mugs and towel into Merry's arms, pushing him back in the doorway. Fatty walked out onto the stoop with me and declared, "There you go, Stella! I told ya not to be bothering us. Now get on!"

"Come Fatty!" I said. "I don't have to stay long. I can wait until the travelers are finished with bathing and just say a quick hello before they eat." Fatty looked like Da did when he used to catch us sneaking out as children. I hated that look. It made me mad and sad at the same time. Mad was winning, though, and when Fatty said I needed to come back tomorrow, I started fussing back. Merry heard us and came back to the door empty-handed. Fatty did that big brother hold on me in which he spun me round and grabbed my waist from the back with his big right arm and covered my eyes with his left hand. I wriggled around, but he is so strong now that we are older. Yet, though I couldn't see a thing, I could tell Merry was stifling a laugh.

Then Fatty said, "You can go home now, Stella, or you can stay and watch my palm all evening." Merry then spoke in my defense, "She just wants to see a friend, Fatty. Stella, you can't see him tonight, but I can send word to you tomorrow about when you can come visit."

Fatty let go of me and looked startled by Merry's offer. "What?"

Merry shushed him. "Go on back in, Fatty, I will talk to her." Fatty hesitated, but the looks that he and Merry gave each other must have said something I couldn't hear, and Fatty went back inside. I could tell there was something more going on, but I figured it was some "boy thing" and I just wasn't invited. I decided to try one more move.

I put on my most mischievous face as I looked at Merry standing at the doorway, and I said, "Maybe I should just sneak around to the window and try a peep at the bathers. I could picture them now jumping for towels and screaming like girls to cover up!" I couldn't help but giggle at the thought.

Merry stepped up to me and put his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with an urgent expression. His voice was soft and concerned. "I'm telling you, not tonight. Don't you think it best if Frodo saw you when he was more refreshed instead of just after his trip?"

The splashing and singing had died down some, but there was a lot of talking still in the other room. "It doesn't sound like he is too tired," I shot back at him. Merry looked into my face and had a gentle smile. It calmed me just to have him look at me that way.

"Stella," Merry said gently, "Go on home and rest. I promise I will send word to you tomorrow letting you know when he is ready to take guests. There is still so much to do."

Thinking back now I can't believe I let him talk me into it, but I said that I would go home and wait. "You promise to tell me tomorrow! I'll come back tomorrow night if you don't!" I said with a resigned sigh and smile, scolding Merry sternly with my finger.

"I promise you will hear from me tomorrow," he said. Oh, Merry. Such a dear friend he is. He is the only one other than Mum that I told about my feelings for Frodo, and yet he keeps it to himself at my request. I think Fatty suspects, though. I hope I won't have to hide it any longer. Merry grabbed my right hand in both of his and kissed my forehead, then watched me turn the corner to the East Road before he went back in to help Fatty. I think Meriadoc Brandybuck will make such a good husband when ever he decides to settle down.

I have been writing so frantically since I got back that my hand is quite in need of some rest. I could never have slept until I wrote all these things, though. I wanted to remember every moment of having Frodo back in Buckland. I know morning light is coming, and I know Mum might need my help in preparing Sunday's foods for the day in the morning. I am so sleepy now. Maybe I will sleep some before the sun comes up in a couple of hours.

CHAPTER 4: 27 September 1418 - Two notes and a trip to Crickhollow.

I hope I can write this journal entry in full. Thinking of the events of today makes me very weary.

When I awoke this morning, my window was ajar. The window is quite large, being as big as a door, but a foot off the floor. It has a wide sill made to lie out items for drying, so it is wonderful to sit on and daydream on an autumn day. I have a bench by the window to help me climb up to it and sit, and I had been there a lot lately looking at the Brandywine and dreaming about Frodo's arrival. That is where I was when I wrote last night, and I had laid my journal on the footstool and curled up to nap before the sun was up. Curiously, though, I woke up having been tucked into my bed. I still had on my good dress and the comb was still secure in my hair.

As I sat up I could feel something in my right hand. It was a neatly folded paper. I got up to open the window and let in the light of the morning, then opened the paper.

Stella-
Come to Crickhollow after noon today.
-Merry

I smiled, but I was still curious on its manner of delivery. If Da or Fatty had seen me asleep in the window, they would have woken me and scolded me about not pulling the shutters to. Merry must have seen me asleep in the window, come through the window, and put me into bed, leaving the note in my hand. I wonder if Frodo came with him and saw me, too! My heart was beating fast and I was very nervous.

Early breakfast had been laid out an hour before and no one had woken me, as it is Sunday. Being Sunday, all the food for the day was prepared this morning so we could graze throughout the rest of the day or take it for a picnic by the Brandywine or a visit to friends. Unfortunately, though, not being up during early breakfast cost me my stolen pinch of Old Toby from Da's pouch, as early breakfast is the only time he leaves it sitting alone on the mantle. I looked at my stashed pouch behind the bonnets in my wardrobe, though, and there was plenty to smoke when the girls next gather at Mags' place.

I freshened and changed clothes before leaving my room and going to get some breakfast. When I started getting some bread and apple butter, Mum came into the dinning parlor and asked how I slept. "Good," I told her. I think she had guessed I had ventured out, for she had a knowing smile on her face and she shook her head at my response. We sat and talked as I ate, and I let her know that I was going to visit Frodo's new place at Crickhollow today. She just smiled as said, "Wonderful! Welcome Frodo on our behalf and be sure to take some of our Sunday bread for him."

I was so nervous before I left that I paced about constantly. Everyone else on our street had packed a picnic to take to the park near Bucklebury Ferry. Normally I would be excited about going with them and making sure I got my best friend Mags to go with us. Now, all I could think about was the visit to Crickhollow and what I should talk about with Frodo. I freshened my good dress again, and I worked on my locks for a while. I put the comb back into my hair when I finished and looked long into the mirror to be sure there was not a hair out of place. The curls fell around my shoulders and down my back as they usually do, and they shined with that touch of gold coming from the autumn sun shining through my window.

I packed a basket before leaving with some bread and my journal and pen - in case we went to the River later I wanted to have my journal to draw or write in while we relaxed in the grass. Tucked under the bread and journal was the note I got that morning, in case I needed to prove to Fatty that Merry had sent word for me to come.

When I got to Crickhollow, it was a bit past noon. I knocked on the door and Fatty answered. I grinned at him and said, "Well, Fatty? Are you going to let me in or not?" He looked at me with a confused look, and then he opened the door and bid me come in. The hole was very quiet. The only sound was the crackle of the fire there in the main parlor. The room looked very neatly set up except for a mop and bucket by the entrance to the main hall.

"I guess you are here to get the washtub back before laundry tomorrow," Fatty said.

"No," I said, "but you are going to have to take it home sometime today. Where are the resident and guests? I am here to pay a visit to welcome Frodo." Fatty motioned to me to sit in a large, softly lined chair by the fire, and he sat in a matching chair in front of me. "Stella, they left."

"Left? For picnic? Why are you still here, then?"

"Not for picnic, Stella." Fatty looked very serious and concerned, but he spoke in a gentle, comforting tone like Mum often did when we were children. "They are leaving Buckland and going to the East. They have a long trip ahead of them, and I don’t suspect they will return before a few weeks’ time. I can't tell you everything, but Merry said he would write a note for me to give to you so you wouldn't have to hear me try to stumble through an explanation."

I was stunned. I sat staring at Fatty and couldn't speak. My breath felt taken from me, and my chest ached and burned. Tears of frustration welled up and the view around me was cloudy. All I could muster was, "Why?"

Fatty just got up and walked over to a small table. He picked up a handkerchief and a paper folded like the note I found in my hand this morning. He handed both to me and sat back down in his chair. I started blotting my tear-filled eyes, trying to hold back the fit of crying I felt welling up inside. I opened the note and read it.

I am crying again even now as I write. I have to stop. The note is tucked in as the next leaf of the journal here. After I read the note, I sat in the chair and cried for about an hour, not even remembering where I was or what day it was by the time I stopped. Fatty had prepared a plate with some food and put it in one of the bedrooms, and then he guided me into that room and encouraged me to rest for a while to make up for my loss of sleep last evening. I soon fell asleep on the soft feather bed and woke up an hour ago, about eight in the evening, and I noticed the basket I brought had been set beside the bed while I slept. I sat up, picked up the journal and pen, and started writing.

This is where I am now, and I think I shall eat a bite of supper, and then talk to Fatty. I have to know more.

Dearest Estella-

Even as I write this note I miss you terribly. When I left the note with you last night and tucked you into your bed, you were so peaceful. I hope that your reading this letter will bring you peace, too.

I came back here and wrote this note to you before we set out in the wee morning hours. Fatty should deliver it to you, but don't expect him to say much about the leaving. He is sworn to secrecy, and I know you don't like rumors to spread about us throughout Buckland and the Shire.

I can't tell you all about why we are leaving, or where we are going, but I can tell you that Frodo, Pippin, and I love you very much. We do expect to return, so don't be sad for our leaving. I don't know when we will be back, be it weeks or even months from now, but please go about your normal life until we return.

If you wish for our safety, do your part by keeping the secret safe within you. People will start to talk, but you don't have to act like you know anything.

While we are away, look toward the East and think of us often.

Sam Gamgee is with us as Frodo's servant, but do not tell Rosie Cotton. Don't let her think that her Sam has left her behind just as their love is starting to grow. He loves her so dearly and plans to marry her one day, as I am sure you have guessed.

I can't write more as it is almost time to wake Frodo, Pip, and Sam and start out toward the Old Forest. Please help Fatty take care of things while we are gone.

Love, Merry

CHAPTER 5: 28 September 1418 – Letting it all sink in.

When I finally climbed out of that soft bed yesterday, I walked about the place looking for Fatty. He was loading the wash tub back onto the cart to take back home. He came inside as I was eating a bit of the carrots and celery stew and the last of the Sunday bread. When he saw me, he offered to give me that cart ride with the wash tub that I missed a couple of days ago. I gave him an irritated look, and then I finished my plate of food and gathered my things to leave.

The trip home was quiet. I carried my basket with me and Merry's letter was in my hand where I had been reading it again. It was already late and mostly dark, so we were quiet about getting the tub into the house when we arrived. I made effortless motions to help, so poor Fatty was taking most of the weight. When the tub was in place, Fatty kissed me on the forehead and told me to go to my room and rest. He left to return to Crickhollow as Frodo had left him in charge of keeping his home until the travelers' return.

I sat curled in my window again for a while, fingering my hair comb in my hands. It was the second time I had worn it since Frodo gave it to me for my birthday in May. It was carved from dark red wood and cut into a curving oval shape. The detailed swirls and flowers and what looked like a butterfly carved into it made it look like something only Frodo could afford to give. Every time I held it in my hands I wondered where he was. No hobbits go into the Old Forest and come back with a happy tale.

I visited Fatty in Crickhollow today to see if I could get more answers. He wouldn't answer my questions about why four hobbits would have to travel East, especially through the Old Forest. I only got out of him that they had to meet someone in Bree first, then they would know where to go from there. Meet someone in Bree? Who would they be willing to go into that crazy town of Bree to meet?

In the afternoon, I wandered to the edge of the Old Forest just past the Hedge and just sat on the ground staring into it. As I walked the road on the way there I heard rumors coming from porches and front gates about hobbits seen going into the Forest and Frodo being part of the party. While I stared into the Forest I tried to imagine Frodo, Merry, and Pippin walking, and Sam taking care of Frodo, and I wished for their safety and quick return. The tears keep coming back, and my eyes are sore and swollen.

Mum and I sat and talked over supper about Frodo having left town. She looked at me gravely when we talked about the possibility of them not returning. The thought made me cry more, and Mum held me and comforted me for a while until I calmed my sorrows again. I love Mum so much! She asked me to visit Merry's family tomorrow and express my concerns. I am afraid if they know Fatty is left in charge of Crickhollow, they will be quite upset about his secrecy and demand answers from him at once. I will not bring up the subject of Fatty, and I hope they will not fault the messenger, either.

I am now sitting at my table writing. I had to pull my shutters closed because of wind and rain, and I have to keep the fire hot to be sure it keeps us warm through the night. Winter is coming, and it feels like it is going to be here sooner than anyone would like.

CHAPTER 6: 29 September 1418 – A curious connection.

This has been quite an interesting day for a Tuesday. Normally, we would just put away all the wash from Monday and prepare items from the garden to be used for the rest of the week. Then, on Tuesday nights, Mags and I secretly meet with the other hens at Mags' place and smoke and drink and hold our private gossip session. Mags' father is the only other occupant of their hole, and he leaves on Tuesdays to take a shipment of his hams to Hobbiton. Mum knows I go to Mags’ place for the evening, but I hope she hasn't figured out about the smoking as she insists a "lady" would not do such things.

Mum scoffs at me spending so much time with working class girls like Mags. I want Mum to be proud of me, but I am of age now and not answerable to her, and I love my friends no matter what their "class" of hobbit. After all, Marigold Bracegirdle was descendant of better families, but her father just married young working class lass who worked for my father's family. His choice was based on his love for Mags' mum despite their class differences. I do wish Mum would understand how much more important it is to simply have friends rather than to just choose friends based on classes.

I am at Mags' now waiting for the other girls to arrive. When I got here early, Mags declared, "We have got to talk about your friends and their adventure." I told her it was only fair I wait and give the account to everyone at once so each person heard the same story and didn't hate me later for leaving out a detail.

I did go to visit Esmeralda and Saradoc Brandybuck today. They suspected Merry had left with Frodo and that Pippin was with them. I was a bit teary-eyed when I confirmed the news to Ms. Esmeralda. She shed a couple of concerned tears, but kept her composure while we talked. I told her about Merry's letter, but I didn't tell her I had it in my pocket even at that moment. She hugged me and asked that I stay for early dinner.

When Master Saradoc came in to eat with us, Ms. Esmeralda told him about the news. He came and put a warm hand on my shoulder, telling me to be strong and keep hope that the boys would not get themselves into trouble. After he said that, his expression changed. He was carefully studying my hair where the side locks were pulled into hair comb from Frodo.

"I have seen that comb before," he said. I couldn't imagine what he meant, but I proudly announced that it was my birthday gift from Frodo and he probably saw him give it to me. Mr. Saradoc shook his head and gently ran his fingers over the carvings on the comb. After a few seconds, he said, "Merry carved it. He worked on that piece for months last year. Kept saying it was a wedding gift. Some of the picnics in early spring he spent putting final details in it, sometimes staying here at home instead of heading down to the River with us to enjoy the spring sunshine."

Mr. Saradoc, still eyeing the workmanship on the clip, trailed off at the end of his comments. After a pause, he pulled his hand and gaze away as if woken from a dream. I'd been sitting perfectly still and thoughts were going through my head as to why this clip must have looked like something Merry made. After all, I was sure Merry's "wedding gift" was safely tucked away in his things by now, though I hardly believe he had intentions of using it anytime soon.

Nothing more was said about the clip, but as Saradoc helped Esmeralda with some of the clean up after the meal, I crept down the hall toward Merry's room. If the clip I wore was that close to what Merry had been making, I had to see what Merry's actual work looked like. Quite a talent he has to have replicated the workmanship in my clip!

Merry's room was neatly straightened. Not one thing was out of place except for a book still sitting on his desk. Next to the book was a pipe box on which sat at small carving knife. A memory came back to me of my first smoke - it was from the first pipe Merry had carved and he promised he would let me have it when Mum finally said it was not so "un-ladylike." I was only 30 and he had just turned 33. It seemed like just yesterday.

I slipped into the chair at the desk and started carefully opening the drawers. There were little items and papers filling each drawer, but no indication of anything important being in there. I rummaged only a little, and I felt my heart beat fast as if I were about to be in big trouble for my sneaking. The only carved items I found were a small horse and a half-carved pipe. I replaced all items and closed the drawers back.

After making sure everything was in its place, I picked up the carving knife sitting on the pipe box and began to turn it about in my hands. The handle of the knife had a beautiful detail. I admired it for a while, and then suddenly I stopped and gasped.

I put the knife down and pulled the comb out of my hair, placing both items side-by-side on the table. The butterfly carving in the comb was almost identical to the carving in the knife handle! I knew that Merry was given the knife by his father years ago and his father had carved something into the handle himself to make it an heirloom of sorts. An heirloom! The design must be the Brandybuck family design Merry once spoke about! I stared at the two pieces on the table for some time. Surely the comb was carved by a Brandybuck, but was it the wedding gift? My heart was on fire. I had to know.

I put everything in the room as I found it, fixed my hair back again, and walked to the main parlor. Mr. Saradoc was just coming in to relax by the fire. I tried to make it look like I had been in the parlor the whole time to hide my sneaking. I had to know more information about the comb, so I asked, "About my comb, Mr. Saradoc, how does it look like the one made by Merry?"

Mr. Saradoc started his pipe. "The design is Brandybuck. I first carved the design for Esmee on a brooch for her cape. It was her wedding gift from me when I asked her to marry me. I made sure the design stayed in the family by carving it, in my spare time, into things we had around the house.” He stepped over to me and showed me the side of his pipe where the same butterfly was carved. “Now you see here two B’s, back to back sharing their stem, for the two B’s in our name, Brandybuck. I added some flourish of my own to the design to give it character. Merry admired the symbol for years, and he insisted to carry on the tradition. What a good hobbit he has grown to be!"

I was satisfied with this answer, but I was still confused as to why Merry would have given up such an item he had put his heart into as a simple birthday token for Frodo to give away. Was Frodo hoping to draw from his Brandybuck heritage when he proposed? I felt that Saradoc probably didn't know the answers to my remaining questions, himself seeming puzzled that I would have the comb in my possession now in the absence of any wedding proposal. I left a short time later to come over here to Mags'.

I have to go! The girls are all here, and it is time to play! I will write more tomorrow!

CHAPTER 7: 30 September 1418 – Good friends, good ale, and a little reassurance.

I haven't been able to sleep very much, and there is only another two hours before dawn. The other girls are still lying around half asleep recovering from last night. I thought I would take this quiet time to come out to the front porch with a candle and a warm blanket and write about what happened in our hen meeting. After I closed my journal last night I went into the dining room to find the usual crowd: Mags (of course), Pervinca Took (Pippin's sister that is my age), Josephine Proudfoot (Josee), and Gwenamir Boffin (Winnie). Mags was bringing full mugs of ale for everyone as we sat around the dining table tearing into bread and greeting each other with the latest events in our lives.

I could tell everyone was avoiding the subject of the travelers, so I just pretended not to be thinking about it, either. Pervinca did share an incident that had happened in Hobbiton a week ago now where a dark stranger had been less than friendly in speaking to Hamfast Gamgee inquiring the whereabouts of "Baggins." Word is he told them to come to Buckland to seek Frodo as it was no secret he had moved here, but the residents of Hobbiton wouldn't know the travelers had planned to leave Buckland. We were on our third round of ale before Mags finally broke her tension waiting for me to speak up about what I knew.

"I think we are all waiting on you now, Ms. Estella Bolger. Come, now! Tell us the story about the travelers that have left Buckland. Your brother surely told you everything." I was startled that she brought it up so openly, even among friends that I trusted. I looked between each of them with thoughts of Frodo being sought out by a dark stranger and not wanting anyone to know where they were going. I looked over at Pervinca, who was looking at me with a confused and attentive expression, and I ached at what I had to tell her about her brother.

I told them what I knew as much as I was comfortable talking about concerning Fatty at Crickhollow and the conspiracy of Frodo leaving the Shire. Pervinca, startled from the news, perked up at the mentioning of Merry's letter. "Do you have the letter with you? Are you going to read it to us?" I knew I couldn't disguise the fact that I had it in my pocket because Mags already saw me take it out earlier and would be sure to question about it. "It is here," I said, and pulled out the letter to read to them.

After I read it, I sat staring at the letter. The room was awkwardly quiet, and even though everyone was staring at me, I was in a distant thought of the events that had occurred over the last few days. Though I was not intending to cry, I felt a tear roll down my right cheek. It dropped onto the word "Love" at the end of the letter, smearing the ink slightly as it ran off the bottom edge.

Pervinca came to my chair and knelt beside me with her arm over my shoulders. I turned to look at her and we traded glances that said more than words ever could. We hugged and held each other for several minutes, crying together harder than I had cried at all until that point in fear of what the travelers may be facing. Our other friends came over and put caring hands on our shoulders. Mags stroked my hair to comfort me, and Josee fumbled to find napkins for our tears.

Winnie looked sad, but she took on a motherly countenance as she encouraged us to not think about it. "After all," she said, "we do not know that they aren't coming back. Imagine the adventurous tales they will have when they return!" Almost if awoken from a bad dream, we all smiled and warmed our hearts with the pleasant thought of their return.

"A song!" Josee shouted. We sang some great Buckland ballads. Then, Pervinca insisted on a drinking song as she packed her pipe for a smoke. The singing and smoking went on through two more rounds of ale before Pervinca announced, "I will be right back! I know just what will put Stella back on track! Come on, Mags!" She drug Mags out of the room running, and we were laughing at them staggering down the hall. Before long, Pervinca returned wearing Mags father's clothes. She had put on a shirt, suspenders, trousers, and a nice hat with her long curly brown hair half-stuffed underneath. She climbed on to the table. We were all laughing. Mags looked stunned at her boldness, but laughed with us.

Pervinca stood facing my chair at the end of the table with her arms crossed looking at me and trying to hide a laugh. Winnie was in on the joke, apparently. She suddenly stood up and said, "Why, look! It's Mr. Frodo Baggins, home from his great travels!"

Pervinca looked down at me with a smile. "Well, hello, Ms. Estella Bolger! Won't you join me for a dance?" I stared at her blushing with embarrassment, finally stammering, "How did you... know?"

Winnie said, "We all watched how you acted around him at your party, Stella. You looked long into his eyes when he dances with you. You visibly clammed up when he touched you. For goodness’ sake, we weren't born yesterday!" I just smiled and felt seemingly relieved that my closest friends knew how I felt in my heart.

Pervinca stayed in character and offered her hand to me. "Come, now, you will dance with your darling Frodo, won't you?" I took her hand and climbed onto the table. We danced and laughed and sang while Josee, Mags, and Winnie clapped and sang with us. When we were too dizzy to dance anymore, we jumped down from the table and stumbled back to our seats.

That was the best laugh ever because it healed me of hurts deep within my heart. Winnie and Pervinca, on their sixth round of ale, started talking to each other secretly while Mags was bringing the mugs back from the tap. Mags heard what they were talking about and shushed them with a glance in my direction. "What? She should know!" said Pervinca.

"Know what?" Josee and I said together.

Mags turned to go retrieve another mug, ignoring the question. Winnie looked at Pervinca as if she wanted to slap her. Pervinca would not be hushed. "I just thought she should know how Frodo feels. It's only fair, isn't it?"

Winnie covered her face in frustration, Josee gasped, and Mags came back to the table with the mugs. "Foolish Took!" Mags retorted as she slammed the mugs down in front of Pervinca. "Just like your brother always shooting off like that."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. Winnie wrapped her arm around Pervinca's head and held her hand over her mouth. "She just means that Frodo has suspected something since the party. Pippin has been telling her things."

"What things?" I insisted. Mags told Winnie to let Pervinca tell me since there was no way to keep it from me now. Pervinca told what she knew in an apologetic tone.

"Pippin and Merry were at Bag End just before Midsummer's Eve. Pip said Merry was trying to gather information about a trip Frodo had to go on. Merry was talking to Frodo about your party and Frodo was telling him how much you liked his gift. Pip said Merry looked sad, but Frodo started talking about how much he loved dancing with you and watching you laugh. 'Are you going to ask her?' Merry asked Frodo. 'Not now. I can't do it. I may never be able to do it.' Pippin asked later what they were talking about, but Merry said it was nothing. Pippin just assumed Frodo was thinking about asking you to marry him."

My heart stopped. "Go on," I said.

"That's all I know, honest! Pippin didn't know, either."

I thought it would make me sad and longing for Frodo to hear this story, but I felt strangely relieved that Frodo had not asked me such a thing. I smiled and relaxed in my chair. "He knew he was leaving. He didn't want to ask me because he knew he was leaving." The girls nodded as if I had revealed to them some great secret, but it seemed obvious enough to me that was Frodo's reason for not asking me. I am not sure why it would have saddened Merry to hear that or why Merry wouldn't have told me, but at that moment I didn't care. The travelers seemed so far away, almost like a fantasy in my head, and I just wanted to forget about it and have fun with the girls.

After one more round of ale, more smoking, and lots more singing and laughing, we all fell asleep. When I awoke, Pervinca, still in Mags' fathers' clothes, was lying across the table; Josee and Mags were asleep on the dining room floor, and Winnie had gone to sleep in Mags' bed, having had too much ale a bit too early in the evening ---

As I was writing the last word, I have heard a great sounding horn! It is quite startling! It is much like what I have heard called the Horn-call of Buckland, not sounded for a hundred years now since the white wolves came. Could that be what it is? In the middle of the night?

There are folk stirring about in the town, and I am frightened and have come back into the house. The girls are waking up now, and I hear Mags in the kitchen scolding Pervinca for sleeping on the table. We must find out what is going on!

CHAPTER 8: 2 October 1418 – Black Riders in Crickhollow.

It was the dark stranger, and apparently three dark companions, riding on horseback. The Black Riders Fatty said Frodo and Pippin had spoke of before they left, with heavy black robes on black horses. They came to Crickhollow that early Wednesday morning and invaded Frodo's home there.

Fatty had escaped through the back door, having felt them coming before, hearing them knock and demand him to open up, and then hearing the Horn-call warning of the dark presence tearing their way through Buckland. He ran fast as he could over a mile up to Trae Brandybuck's place on the out skirts of Newbury, the nearest house north of Frodo's place where he stayed secluded until he felt safe to come out again.

Frodo's home was torn open, the door off its hinges and in pieces, furniture overturned, clothes rifled through and rent by sharp edges. When Fatty returned there earlier today, thankfully before I arrived, he cried as he picked up one of Frodo's cloaks in the doorway and trudged into the home to survey the damage. Trae was with him and they spent most of yesterday setting furniture right and getting the kitchen back in order.

"I fear what Frodo will think of all this mess," Fatty said to me during a short tea break early this afternoon. "But even more I fear where those Black Riders are going. Will they find Frodo and the others?" He shook his head as stared out toward the East as if his eyes could pierce the walls and through the trees of the Old Forest.

"I can't imagine they will catch up with them," I tried to reassure him. "Such a head start they had."

"Stella, they rode fast! And hard!" Fatty slammed his hand down on the table.

"But it took them six days to get here, Fatty. Or one of them at least," I stopped and thought a moment. "Or perhaps he just took the time to leave and get his companions together once he knew to come to Buckland!" My revelation in thought did more to depress us than encourage us.

"Crickhollow specifically," Fatty sighed. "And if what you say about Pervinca's news is correct, old Gaffer Gamgee has no idea how dangerous his information was in its giving. I can't be angry at him, but I am very angry they learned what path to take."

"Those Riders pursued East on the Road, you said. They will not find the travelers there. Merry will lead them through the Old Forest, and the ponies will serve to keep their strides faster than in walking. Surely by now they have reached Bree and found Gandalf." I looked away from Fatty and down into my cup, thinking again for a moment. "Gandalf will protect them."

"But he did not come here, Stella," Fatty said. "I waited to give him the message, and he has yet to have been here, unless he came in my absence after the Black Riders left. Then, what would he have thought of this mess? What would he think of Frodo's fate? Would he have known to continue his search?"

"So many questions," I said with a frown, "and I have not an answer for any of them. I have a feeling Gandalf knows, and I have a feeling he will find them. I just don't know how."

Fatty was still distraught when I left shortly afterwards, and I wanted badly to stay and help, but he insisted I go and let him and Trae set things right again. I was emotionally spent from these last few weeks, so I agreed to come back here to Bucklebury and share the news with Mum and Da as well as to pass the information on to Brandy Hall.

CHAPTER 9: 3 October 1418 – Mags keeps my fantasies in check.

Compared to the events of earlier this week, there has been nothing worth writing about until today. I spent the afternoon at Mags' head and foot salon in Bucklebury at my weekly appointment. I only have it done Saturday during tea time because Mags has no other folks that make appointments at that time.

By the time I was sitting in the salon chair to soak my feet and let her pick out the locks of my freshly-washed hair, she had told me how excited she was about Trae Brandybuck asking her to join him for Sunday picnic. She and I talked about what she should wear and whether she should be shy and ladylike or open and friendly. She didn't even seem worried about the fact that her father and she were now considered working class and Trae was still among us of the upper classes. She did however feel a bit guilty of taking his attention away from Fatty and the cleanup at Crickhollow, though I assured her he will probably need a break by tomorrow.

As we talked, our conversation moved to why she liked Trae. I smiled as I listened to her go on about how handsome he is, and how nice his laugh sounds, and how much of a gentlehobbit he is. I had not been thinking about my own situation until she asked, "So why do you love Frodo Baggins so darned much?"

I was speechless for a moment. No one had ever asked me that before, especially seeing as Merry and Mum were the only ones I had talked to about it before this week, and I am sure they didn't care to know "why." I couldn't think of a single answer that encompassed my feelings. Finally, I said quietly, "I don't know."

Mags giggled. "Well, there must be something about him." She thought for a couple of seconds. "Okay, what things do you like about him. That must be a start as to why you love him."

I thought for a little bit before I answered. Memories flooded my mind from as far back as his own coming-of-age party when he first taught me to dance. I had flashes in my mind of the time he got franticly scared watching from the riverbank as Merry and I started cutting up on a boat and almost flipped it over, and the reading and writing lessons he gave to Pippin and I while I was in my tweens, and how generous he was at every party he gave or attended in The Shire. I thought about the soft touch of his hands in mine when we danced, though that last dance at my own birthday last spring seemed like years ago now. His gentle look into my eyes had melted my heart since I could remember.

"I just have that feeling around him," I started. "I feel like I am loved. I feel safe when he is near. I know he would take care of me and love me, and he would make a wonderful father."

"A father?" Mags retorted. "I thought you were looking for a husband, Stella dear."

Neither of us spoke for almost a minute. She finished my head and gave me a warm wet cloth to remove the mud mask on my face. The fresh evergreen fragrance mixed into the mud was so wonderful to breathe in, but my mind was still pondering Mags' question. Mags started brushing my toenails clean, and I giggled reminding her that I was ticklish there. She laughed and reminded me that at least we didn't have hairless feet to cover like the Elves do.

Mags returned to our previous topic. "Stella, don't be mad at me about the father thing. If you find the right hobbit, you want him to be a good father, that is for sure. I am sure Frodo would be an excellent father. What about being a husband, Stella? Don't you want him to be a good husband first?"

"Well, I know he would be a good husband. He would look after me and love me, and we would have wonderful times together."

Mags only looked at me with a concerned expression and said, "Stella, what about the romance? What about the joy of simply being in love? If Frodo feels the same way you do, do you think he would have left the Shire without first telling you how he felt? If he felt about you the way you say you feel about him, I am sure he would have itched to tell you as soon as you had come of age, even if he knew he might be leaving for a while."

I sat shocked and perfectly still. I had never thought about that before.

"Mags, why would he have been thinking about asking me to marry him if he didn't feel like I do?"

Mags spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. "Frodo is older now. Whether he looks it or not, you know he just turned fifty. I am sure he was looking to sire an heir to old Bilbo’s treasures, and if he already suspects that you love and care for him so much, who better to choose as a wife?" The thought of Frodo selecting me for convenience rather than love made me burn with resentment. I couldn't believe Mags would suggest such a thing.

"Oh, dear Stella!" Mags said, seeing the anger and frustration welling in my face. "Don't be angry! You know Frodo loves you very much. I know Frodo must love you more than anyone other than your family and me, and he loves you in a sense that is much deeper than any flighty romance - he is willing to spend his life with you." The thought of that eased my anger, but I was still frustrated about him perhaps not looking on me the same way I looked on him.

After Mags finished up my feet, we went out to the porch so the fresh air would dry the hairs not yet dry on my head and feet. As we sat, there was a heavy silence. After some thoughts, I asked, "What should I do?"

Mags and I looked eye-to-eye. She still looked concerned, but she smiled and grabbed both my hands in hers. "Look into your heart and think long about how you feel right now. Not only is Frodo a dear friend, but he is what we call your 'first love interest,' too. That feeling will fade over time if it is not returned to you in kind. We have heard Pervinca's sisters tell us that over and over again, Stella. If you try to pursue it, you may get more frustrated and come to hate Frodo for not returning those feelings. Meanwhile, you could be forgetting or ignoring your feelings for someone who loves you in kind."

Mags was right. I had been so absorbed into the fantasy of Frodo and anticipating romance that I had not even thought of my life outside of that fantasy. Yet I could only picture us married with children and not really in love other than a deep friendship. We already had the deep friendship, which seems essential for a happy marriage, but a husband and wife need more than that to be completely happy sharing their lives together. I fear that's something I could never have with Frodo.

I have resolved that I will listen to my feelings and let go of the fantasies until I know with whom I will be enjoying those fantasies with. It may well be my dearest Frodo, and I truly hope it is, but now I don't think it will be.

CHAPTER 10: 4 October 1418 – Taking the news to Bywater.

Last night Mum and Da were dancing and singing after supper and decided that they would celebrate their wedding anniversary with a trip to the Green Dragon where they first met. They spent half the night giggling and packing things to take to Hobbiton. Fatty and I decided to ride with them so Fatty could visit Folco concerning the cleanup at Crickhollow and I could spend time with the girls in Bywater. For once, my mother didn't react when I told her I was going to hang out with "those working class girls."

While we were riding in the wagon, Mum and I talked about her and Da meeting and falling in love. "Did you know you wanted to marry him at first?" I asked.

"Yes and no," she replied. "I wanted to spend more time with him, but I didn't know him very well yet. We became best friends and built a lasting romance at the same time. It took a few months of courting before he asked me, though, and then I was ready to say yes on the spot!"

I smiled back at her as she spoke. We had heard the story a hundred times before, but I always loved hearing it again. "How will I know, Mum? I mean, how will I know if I should say yes if someone asks?"

Mum smiled and seemed delighted to be handing out the advice to me. "Estella, you have many friends, just as I did. You know what a true friendship is all about. You have to know he is your best friend when he asks you. Not just any friend will do, Estella. A gentlehobbit worthy to become your husband will look upon you as fair and be as giddy about being around you as you are around him. In fact, we would be willing to choose courting you over traipsing off with his friends."

"Mum!" I said quickly, understanding the not-so-subtle suggestion. "Do you mean..."

She interrupted with, "I am only telling you to not be so hasty to conclude that the love of your life is someone you have to wait for. Perhaps you already know him. Perhaps you haven't even met him. Either way, a time will come when you know who he is, and you will know it to the very core of your being."

I smiled and hugged her, shedding an unseen tear or two at the uncertainty of it all. One week I am certain of what I want my future looks like, the next week I realize that my fantasies are holding me back from experiencing the joy of reality.

My folks dropped me off at the main pass through Bywater, and I walked the rest of the way to Rosie Cotton's place. It was very quiet around the house except for the sounds of her brothers and father doing some work on their roof. Rosie and her Mum were inside preparing for the early supper. They gave me a warm hug when they saw me and told me to put my things in Rosie's room where I would be sleeping. They insisted to learn what I knew about the travelers as soon as I came back. There was no use in hiding it at Merry's request now because too many rumors were floating about the Shire that needed to be resolved.

We went into the Cottons' main parlor and sat in front of their small fire. I told them simply that folks had seen them leave past the Hedge into the Old Forest, and they were not taking the Road on their way to Bree. I also told them that I knew from Fatty who the four travelers were but that no one knew why they were leaving or where they were going. Rosie saddened hearing about Sam Gamgee, and I hugged her to comfort her.

The rest of the evening, she and I talked about Sam and when the travelers might return. Her mood improved as she went on about how sweet and loyal Sam is and how she loves his kisses. She looked and sounded like what Fatty would call a "fool in love." I giggled with her for hours as she told the tales about their weekly romantic rendezvous in the gardens at Bag End. It was wonderful to hear a friend being so happy and in love.

It is time for us to rest now. Rosie went to the Green Dragon to work a short shift, and then she returned to fix me a place to sleep on the floor by her bed. That is where I am now, and Rosie is already fast asleep, dreaming about her Sam, I am sure. She is off duty tomorrow and we are going to go visit Old Gaffer Gamgee to tell of what we know. I wish I could tell her more, but I remember what Merry said in the letter, and I do so want them to come home safely.

CHAPTER 11: 5 October 1418 – A visit to the Old Gaffer.

Rosie and I got a late start and arrived at the Gamgee hole a little before noon. As we made our way up to the door, Fatty turned the corner and shouted for us to wait up. Behind him was trotting Folco Boffin looking surprisingly winded trying to keep up with Fatty. We waited for them to catch up, then let them walk up to the door with us. "Now, you just let me talk to the Old Gaffer," Fatty insisted. I didn't care to be doing the talking anyway, but I had hoped he would not take any of his frustrations out on the poor old hobbit for having pointed the Black Riders to Crickhollow.

When pleasantries had been traded between the guests and The Old Gaffer and Ms. Bell, we all went to their main parlor so that Fatty could speak of our tidings. He spoke gently, and he did not even mention the Gaffer's words to the Black Rider. He told them even less about the travelers than he and Merry had revealed to me. Then he added the news about the raid on Crickhollow a few nights ago. The dear Gaffer looked distraught and shook his head mumbling something about being a "ninnyhammer" and that he "put his foot in it" again, but Fatty refrained from scolding and just remained silent, letting the Gaffer take time to absorb the new information.

The Gaffer confirmed that Gandalf had been to Hobbiton before that looking for Frodo, so Fatty was both relieved and worried that the wizard would have indeed come to Crickhollow in Fatty's absence and seen the aftermath of the Riders. I could sense that Fatty regretted not being there when Gandalf arrived. Fatty explained that he wished Sam was at Crickhollow to help with recovering the place, but the Old Gaffer insisted Sam was right in staying by his master's side. The Gaffer continued to be distraught, but he did not seem to be taken off guard by all the news.

"If that Frodo has the same Baggins in him that Bilbo has, it was sure he'd be going off adventuring sometime," said the Gaffer. With that, he volunteered to go to Crickhollow first thing the next morning with Folco to help Fatty with recovery and cleanup of Bilbo's and Frodo's possessions that had been moved there from Bag End. Fatty and Folco insisted he needn't make the trip, but he was determined to do what he could out of respect for his old master Bilbo and his heir.

Before we left, Ms. Bell insisted we take lunch with them, so we did. After lunch, Fatty and I left to meet Mum and Da for the ride back home, and Rosie stayed to visit with Marigold Gamgee when she got back from her master's service for the day.

On the ride back to Bucklebury, Fatty and I talked about things we remembered about growing up with Merry, Frodo, and Pippin. I already missed them a great deal, and I could sense that Fatty felt the same way. It wasn't so much that they had been gone over a week as we have no idea when they might return, or even if they will return. We never spoke of the possibility of them not returning, though we knew Ms. Eglantine Took had been telling everyone in the Shire her only son would perish for sure, and the others with him.

I am home now. It is time to sleep. I look first into the direction of the Old Forest and wish for the safety of my dearest friends as they travel. If only I knew where they were and if they were all right, I could be comforted. With the possibility that those Black Riders are out there, I can hardly bear to wait here at home while my friends face life-threatening dangers for some unrevealed purposes.

CHAPTER 12: 6 October 1418 – Remembering the day with the boat.

After helping with washing today I came here to Crickhollow to see if I could be of any help to Fatty. He didn't want me to help, that was obvious, but considering the overwhelming task in front of him, he let me help pack the contents of two overturned trunks still sitting in the wide hallway.

I tried not to be nosey, but the contents of the trunks brought back another flood of memories. There were some drawings Folco had done of all us friends at one of Pippin's birthday parties. As a rest before finishing the second trunk, I decided to write here in my journal a memory I had that brings me joy to think upon.

Fatty, Merry, and I were in our tweens, and Pippin was still just a child whose Mum insisted he shouldn't hang out with the likes of Merry Brandybuck and his mischief-making. It was Pippin's birthday and he was excited about giving his friends a boat to play around in at the river. Pippin himself wanted to try this boat riding that us Bucklanders knew more about than the average Shire hobbit, and Merry and Fatty were going to teach him how. I had been on the boats myself, but unlike Merry and Fatty, I could not yet swim.

Frodo didn't like the idea much, but he helped us launch the boat onto the river. Pippin, Merry, Fatty, and I were in the boat and Frodo stayed at the riverbank with Mags, Folco, and Josee. Fatty was teasing me about being nervous, then Merry decided to start scaring me with surprise tickles every couple of minutes. Pippin was laughing so hard at one point he lost his balance and fell over the side. Fatty grabbed him and pulled him back in the boat, and we laughed at him all soaking wet. As I laughed, I accidentally nudged Merry with my elbow, and we began to nudge each other in jest, still laughing. Frodo was shouting from the bank for us to cut it out and come back before we got ourselves in trouble.

Fatty brought the boat back to the bank, and he and Pippin hopped out. Just as I was about to climb out, Merry grabbed me from behind and pulled me back into the boat. "Oh, no ya don't!" he said, and started tickling me all over. It was one of our larger tickle fights, and as I tried to tickle back he kept trying to hold my hands away. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe, and I didn't even notice that the boat had crept back out into the river while all this was going on.

Suddenly, I jerked hard to the left side, pushing the side of the boat down toward the water and tipping the boat over to one side. Merry gasped, grabbing onto me when it happened, and I screamed. Merry forced his weight backwards to stop the boat from tipping. When the boat rocked back into place and was calm again, I noticed Merry was holding me and we were panting. My heart was racing with the fear of what would have happened if the boat had turned over. We didn't say anything to each other, but Merry let go of me and brought the boat to the bank again. Pippin, Folco, and Fatty were still laughing and poking fun at Frodo and Mags for getting so worried about our safety. Josee was scolding them for poking fun, and she and Mags hugged me when they saw I was shaking when I got out of the boat. Merry shook it off pretty quickly, but I will never forget that moment. His actions may very well have saved my life that day.

At sunset that same day, I noticed Merry and Frodo sitting at the river bank alone on the grass staring at the river. They looked like they had been talking about something deep and personal. Frodo heard me come over the hill in their direction and glanced at me over his shoulder. Merry didn't turn around, but Frodo said something to him quickly and patted Merry's shoulder as he hopped up to head back to the party. Frodo smiled as he came up to me and said, "Estella. You are one lucky hobbit today! I think you scared Merry pretty good, though he wouldn't tell you." We glanced at Merry, then at each other, and he hugged me before bouncing back off to the party. I wanted to follow, but I had a friend in need of my thanks.

I walked up to where Merry was sitting and sat down on the soft grass beside him. He didn't turn to look at me, but continued to watch the beautiful oranges and reds in the sky at sunset. His knees were pulled up close to his chin and he looked deep in thought. "Thank you, Merry," I said to him softly.

He turned to look at me and smiled. No words were spoken, but he put his arm around me and pulled me closer. I rested my head on his shoulder and we watched the sunset together. After the oranges and reds all faded to blues and purples, he suddenly became his old self again. He stood up, pulled me up, and said, "Let's go dance before this party ends!" We rushed back off to the party where I danced with him and Frodo in turns for the rest of the night.

Tonight the girls meet as usual at Mags'. I think we need to talk about my chance to return a favor to a friend.

CHAPTER 13: 7 October 1418 – The plan is set to leave for Bree.

The plan is set. I told the girls last night that I was not going to sit around waiting anymore for the travelers to come home or for tidings of their travels to reach us here in Buckland. We are leaving for Bree tomorrow to sniff out information about where our friends have gone. Mags doesn't like the idea of going anywhere those Black Riders were seen, but she insists I am not going without her. Pervinca is fired up about going in pursuit of her brother. The others don't think we should chance it and are afraid of the rumors about the Big People in Bree.

I am going to close this journal entry now so I can tuck the journal into my pack. It is almost three past midnight, and I have to get my pack out of the house quietly and get back over to Mags' so I can sleep some before we set off at sunrise.

CHAPTER 14: 9 October 1418 – From the East Road to the Prancing Pony.

Very early Wednesday morning, we set out. There was just as there was enough light to find our way up to the East Road. Not a lot of traffic was going toward Bree that morning. We wore trousers and tucked our hair up under our cloak hoods so perhaps it would not draw attention to ourselves as girls from Buckland.

As we walked on during Wednesday's trek, I kept staring to our right at the trees of the Old Forest. That is where they went, avoiding the Road as to avoid being seen. Perhaps they already knew those Black Riders were past Buckland and in pursuit. I still had to find out what was going on, where our friends were, and what business was so urgent for these horrible Black Riders to so violently pursue a Baggins from the Shire.

We only rested twice as we traveled each day, and we made sure no one was on the road near us each time we stopped. I felt like I was being watched, but Mags and Pervinca chattered on as if it were just a Sunday picnic trip. Past the Old Forest are the hills of the Barrow Downs, which we saw just as the sun was setting yesterday. There are so many dark legends about those places, and my heart felt cold at seeing them.

It was well after dark yesterday evening when we reached the gate into Bree. Pervinca was frightened at how big everything looked, and Mags and I worried that the Big People might not even see us hobbits moving around the town streets at night and run over us with their wagons and horses. We camped in a secluded spot opposite the road from the gate. All night, no folks came or went from the gate, but the gate's keeper must have been on careful watch because the peepholes in the door opened and shut several times. Mags and Pervinca slept while I watched for a while, then Mags watched while I slept some. Pervinca wouldn't wake up, so Mags kept the third watch, too. Mags is still scolding Pervinca about owing her a nights' watch on the return trip.

After the sun was up, we decided to venture into Bree. People were coming and going more now, but the gatekeeper still paused and looked at us funny before he let us in. When he asked where we were going, Pervinca began to speak, then Mags elbowed her to hush. "We are here to visit relatives by the name of Bracegirdle," I announced. Warily, he let us pass.

The whole town looked very used. Crowds of people hurried back and forth on the streets with heads hung low. I was glad they hung their head or they might have tripped over us hobbits in their rush. There were other hobbits, but they looked like working class folk, and they didn't seem eager to acknowledge our presence. We kept our hoods on until we started seeing more hobbit girls and Women around, then we took off our hoods and let our hair down for a while.

"Where are we going?" Pervinca asked after we had walked a few blocks.

I thought about the times I had been there years before. "I really don't know. I know there is an inn here with a name that's something about a pony and the main pub in town is there." Before long we had eavesdropped on enough passing conversations on the street to decipher the name of the inn as The Prancing Pony. Mags mustered up the courage to ask directions of a Woman who was selling woven cloths at one corner, and she told us the way there.

When we arrived at The Prancing Pony, there were a lot of stares from the Big People coming in and out. Many Men were there with rough looks on their faces. We just held our heads up like noble hobbits and continued inside. A young hobbit was rushing by us carrying full mugs of beer. He was startled when he saw us and looked as if he had seen a ghost. His expression then relaxed, then he said he would be right back to help us.

We stood there and not ten seconds had gone by before the young hobbit returned. He introduced his self hastily as Nob, a servant there, and insisted that we not go into the pub area. We told him we intended to stay for the night. He said to follow him to a hobbit-sized room and he would make sure we were settled. We followed him to a room with four beds that had newly-made matresses and linens. Nob started a fire while we settled our things, then he said he would send the proprietor who would assure us a safe and comfortable stay.

Proprietor Butterbur introduced himself when he came with some food and drink for us, but he looked like he was anxious to leave the room after he brought it. Before he left, though, he asked "Tell me, young misses, what brings you here?"

"We are here looking for relatives," I said, trying to stay ambiguous as possible. "We mean to see them while we are here in Bree."

"Indeed!" Mr. Butterbur said as if relieved to hear that news. "Nob can help direct you to their places if you need. He knows the places where many hobbit families live between Staddle and Archet. When will you be going to see them?"

I didn't know what to say. Our intension was not to leave the inn but to gather information from folks in the pub about what news they might have of traveling hobbits. "They don't expect us until tomorrow morning," I said. I felt very devious because I hated to lie to anyone for any reason.

Mr. Butterbur arranged to have Nob take the time to direct us where we needed to go first thing in the morning, then he left us to do as we pleased. It was still early in the afternoon and the pub was not yet very busy. We stopped to make some plans about how to listen in to pub conversations without being seen. Once we finished making our plans, we took a nap and waited until nightfall when the pub would be full of folks of all kinds. I just awoke from my own nap to write this journal entry. Mags is still catching up on sleep. Pervinca is nibbling on some bread and looking out the window as if to see her brother looking back at her.

Tonight we find out about our dear hobbits. I will wait and write again tomorrow after we have a chance to question Nob, too.

CHAPTER 15: 10 October 1418 – Encounter at the pub.

Here is what we know and how we found out.

Last night we followed our plan to gather information from the pub folks. As we prepared to leave the room, I looked at us and laughed. Mags was wearing her father's clothes that Pervinca had borrowed for entertaining us last week. Pervinca was stuffed into some of Pippin's trousers and shirt, constantly trying to make the suspenders a bit longer. I had one of Fatty's large shirts and a pair of Mags' father's pants that needed mending at the knee.

"And what are you laughing at Ms. Bolger?" Mags asked.

"We just look like silly hobbits playing dress-up," I said. "Can you imagine what our traveling friends would say if they knew-"

"What? Do you think Merry didn't suspect you running off after them?" said Pervinca. "If being a Took has taught me anything it’s to recognize a stinker when I see 'em. You and Pip are the biggest stinkers I know after Merry himself!"

"I'll have you know," I returned, "Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck are sure stinkers, but I only do what is necessary to help my friends."

"Necessary?"

"Of course."

"For what? Your need to swoon over your 'Dearest Frodo' more?"

Pervinca and I were getting in a quite heated, yet humorous, exchange, then Mags stepped in. "We aren't getting any closer to finding our friends or finding out their fate by sitting here arguing about why. Remember, Pervinca, your brother is part of this crowd, too. Don't you want to know what has happened to him?"

Pervinca looked at Mags, still steaming, and replied, "I want my brother home, yes. I don't want to sit waiting at home for tidings, that is also true. But, I don't want to be gettin' all in trouble, either."

Mags reassured us. "We'll work that out when the time comes. We are all grown hobbits, not children, and we are not married with husbands to be accountable to. I think we can manage on our own without having to answer to other authorities."

Wrapping our traveling cloaks back around us, we again used the hoods to hide our hair. We walked down to the pub and snuck through a kitchen entrance, and we were able to enter unseen behind the bar. We stopped for a second in a shadow on the wall behind the bar, then ducked to floor level and crawled under a nearby vacant table. The table was just large enough to hide us from the Big People as long as shadows remained under the table and we kept the dark cloaks wrapped around us.

We listened without speaking to gather as much as we could. Here were some of the things we picked up from the patrons.

"Did you see those little Shire-hobbitesses going around today?"
"Must be more of them trouble-bringers! I hope no Black Riders show up tonight!"
"I hear that old Bill Ferny's got business with one of those hobbits. Wonder if he knows."
"I imagine someone's told him. I figure he'll be 'round asking 'fore long."
"I hear those hobbit girls are here to see family. Did you catch a name?"
"Hey, maybe we can get them to sing that song about a cow jumpin' over the moon again!"
"And maybe they'll dance for us, too! Remember that one that did that? That was so funny! HA!"
"It was right after that little one started going on about the Baggins that those Black Riders were asking about. Never did hear all that tale."
"Yeah, but if they start that disappearing act, I’m gonna start asking some questions."
"Disappearing hobbits! Ha! Did you see that Strider when they were leaving town?"
"Yeah, all four of 'em were antsy! I'll bet that disappearin' act had somethin' to do with that Strider meetin' up with 'em."
"I wonder if those awful Black Riders caught up with 'em."
"I hear those riders have got Billy Ferny keeping watch."

Pervinca gasped at the mention of the song. We both recognized it as being one of Bilbo's crazy creations. She also sensed that the "little one" was her dear little brother. Whoever was it dancing and singing, we couldn't figure, though assumed it one of Merry's stunts. We would ask Nob what he knew in the morning. Before long, the pub was quieting down and Pervinca had fallen asleep on Mags' lap under her cloak. As she drifted off, we didn't notice that her feet had been sliding out from under her cloak and out from under the table. I continued to listen to conversations of disgruntled employers and frustrated husbands sharing more than I needed to know about their troubles.

Suddenly two pairs of hobbit feet passed the table and stopped. "Well, what do we have here, Nermal?" a hobbit's voice said in a tone to call attention to himself. One of the hobbits crouched just enough to look under the table. I was in front of Mags, and Pervinca was just stirring behind me, her feet still sticking out past me.

I looked into the face of the young hobbit. He couldn't have been older than we are, but he was obviously from the working class by his clothes. He stuck out his hand as if to touch my shoulder. I threw back my cloak and charged at him. I pushed him backwards onto the floor as I came out from under the table. I drew up into a two-fisted stance to defend myself. As he got back up, he and his companion were laughing. Mags and Pervinca got up and stood behind me with a defensive look.

"Woah, little hobbit! Now, what would you have been doing hiding under a table, now? Hiding from Black Riders?"

"I'll have you know we are here to see family," I replied, still holding two fists at a ready position in front of my chest.

"Visiting family under a table? Perhaps some of the rats?" the hobbit laughed. He was a bit taller than his companion, who looked more like a pet than a friend. "Yeah, family under the table! That is funny," the short hobbit added. The tall hobbit gave him an annoyed glance and sharp nudge, then looked back at me.

"No need to be on the defensive, my friends," the tall hobbit said. "I'm just a bit curious why you needed to hide under a table. Are you afraid of us pub patrons? Or are you spying for those Black Riders?"

I relaxed just a bit, but stayed on guard. "We just want some information and we don't want any trouble from the likes of you!"

"Come now," the tall hobbit said. "Tell your friends to put back their hoods, too. We know you are misses even in yer trousers. Here, Nermal and I are good hobbits! We won't let anything happen to ya, will we Nerm?" The shorter hobbit nodded. "Sit up on the seats of this table here instead of hiding, and we'll be glad to talk with ya. Some pints for the ladies, Nermal!" Nermal got some enormous frothy mugs from the bar for each of us.

The tall hobbit introduced himself as Morton and motioned for us to have a seat. The girls and I exchanged a quick glance acknowledging that we might finally get our questions answered, and we hopped onto the benches at the table. I sat between Morton and Pervinca on one side of the table, and Mags sat next to Nermal on the other side. The onlookers went back to their normal conversations, but kept glancing over to the table periodically.

As we sat, Mags and I didn't say much and drank very little of the large mugs of beer. Pervinca drank heartily, though, and was on her second pint before the long-winded Morton started telling us anything worth listening to. We asked what he knew about the traveling hobbits.

Morton gave physical descriptions that left no doubts in our minds they were Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Sam. He told us about the ranger Strider and that he seemed to have business with the travelers here at the inn. He said that the dark-haired hobbit (that is Frodo) must have been drunk because he stood on the very table we were sitting at and sang a song to entertain the crowd. Just before, the smallest hobbit (that is Pippin) had been trying to tell about a Baggins he knew since we heard some folks were around asking for a Baggins. There was also a disappearing act where the dark-haired hobbit vanished after falling off the table. It had been the talk of the pub for days apparently, and many people assumed one of those four hobbits was the Baggins the Black Riders were looking for.

His tale then turned more grave as he announced that the travelers were last seen leaving Bree with the ranger on a west road with a pony taken from Bill Ferny. Apparently, the way Morton described it, this Bill Ferny was no one to mess around with and had been apparently helping other strange folk from the South find those hobbit travelers. He hates hobbits, the townsfolk say.

"That's about all I know, missies. What else could I help you with?" He had a sly-looking grin, and Nermal, who seemed quite drunk, was glancing all up and down Mags' body as she sat beside him trying not to reveal her discomfort. I tried to distract them with my next comment.

"Well, I guess we are just going to have to leave on that West Road as soon as we get our things together." Mags knew I was bluffing by my tone, but Pervinca seemed startled out of her third drought of beer.

"Ah, ladies! You can stay here and relax. Those hobbits will be fine. They have that ranger with them to protect them, and they were armed, after all."

"Armed?" Mags and I asked.

"Yeah, with their swords and all. They looked kinda awkward wearing them, but at least they had them. That Strider had one, too. They'll be safe."

Pervinca started giggling. "Peregrin Took? With a sword? Ha! He'd cut off his foot just drawing it from the sheath." I tried to hide my laugh. I didn't know which was funnier: the image of Pippin bumbling with a sword or watching Pervinca's drunken self trying to tell us about it.

"See there, now you can relax," Morton said. "How about joining Nermal and I at my place for a pipe of Longbottom Leaf and some excellent wine from the Shire’s Southfarthing."

"No, thank you," Mags said. "We appreciate your time and information, but we will retire to our own rooms now."

"Ah, now is that any way to thank a kind hobbit for sharing so much useful and valuable information?" Morton had a very sneaky grin, and Nermal did likewise. Nermal's hand reached out and touched Mags' shoulder, and she jerked away. "Oh, come on," Nermal said. "At least let us have a kiss and dance before you go." The two hobbits hopped up, Nermal grabbed Mags' arm to pull her up, and Morton pulled at mine and Pervinca's arms to pull us up, too.

Mags and I wrestled our arms loose, but Pervinca just jerked her other arm around and punched Morton in the face. Hard. He hit the floor, and the commotion caused laughter from everyone, even Nermal. Pervinca shot Nermal a look that caused him to shut up quick and turn to walk out of arms reach. The onlookers in the bar laughed, then applauded, but Pervinca was in no mood to appease them. She started walking out the way we had come in, and we followed her all the way back to our room.

When we got back to the room, Mags and I followed Pervinca in. She threw her cloak on her bed then went to stand in front of the fire. She stood staring at it for a while before Mags and I finally decided to break the tensioned silence and thank her for defending us. She didn't respond. In a few minutes of recalling what had happened, I realized what had sobered Pervinca so quickly: Pervinca had been assaulted before. It was the reason Merry taught her, me, and Pippin how to fight and defend ourselves against pushy hobbit boys. Poor Pervinca. In a time of sorrow about not having her brother near, she is faced with a memory that brings her equal sadness and frustration.

We slept uneasy last night hoping that no one would try to come calling. I don't think Pervinca slept at all. Nob has been to the room this morning, and we told him the truth about not seeing relatives. He didn't have any new details to share about the travelers except that the tall one (that is Merry) said other hobbits from his home might come looking for them. He also had left a note with Nob to tuck away in case some hobbits came to Bree asking about them. When Nob told us that, my heart started racing. The note is tucked away in the next leaf here in my journal.

We are ready now to check out of the inn. Pervinca is her jolly self again and is now more confident that her brother will be okay until he comes home. Mags and I were glad to hear about the swords and wondered whether Gandalf or that ranger had given the weapons to them. We still don't know why they had to go off or where they are going, but I knew we weren't going to find any answers unless we found the travelers and asked them in person. No one knew where in the West they had traveled over the past several days, but I knew there was no use trying to follow with more than ten days past since they left Bree. They say it is best to wait at home for a dog to return because he is likely find his way back home before you could find him out in the wide world.

Today, we are going home to wait.

Merry's letter...

29 September 1418

Dearest Estella,

I knew you would come looking for us or would send Fatty and Folco here to Bree. Please don't try to follow us any farther. Frodo has something with him that Bilbo once owned that is very dangerous and we are supposed to find Gandalf so he will tell us what to do. I still cannot tell you where we are going when we leave here, but I want to warn you that Black Riders are looking for what Frodo is carrying. They will look for it in The Shire before they find out we have left, so keep yourself safe and warn others to be wary!

Frodo doesn't know I am writing this note. I hope he, Pip, and Sam don't get themselves in trouble over at the pub here at this inn they insisted on visiting tonight. I know how much you love him, Stella, but I warn you not to be so attached to him now. He is not like he was. He seems so distant in his thoughts. I fear he may not be eager to return your love except as an old friend.

If the Black Riders don't bother us tonight, we will stay a while longer to wait to meet Gandalf. I am going to close this note now and give it to Nob on my way out for a walk. I miss being at home by the river and laughing with my friends about simple things again.

Send my love to my mum and da, and wish Fatty and Folco well for me.

I miss you tremendously, Stella. Promise we will dance and laugh again when I get home!

Merry