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Chapter Text

T.A. 3018 | S.R. 1418

In a far-flung corner of the Northfarthing there lived a hobbit-lass. Wild hair ruby red, and to the horror of others the owner of a pair of boots, many folk of the more respectable farthings called her 'queer' and 'hardly respectable.' But then again, they said that about many in her family, so Diamond did her best not to listen. Adamanda North-Took was, of course, a North-Took. And that meant adventure.

Or at least, she wished it did. Walking stick in hand, beautifully crafted bow on her back, Diamond muttered to herself as she made her way to Buckland. The absolute audacity of Peregrin Took to go on an adventure with Meriadoc Brandybuck and leave her behind was...was... well simply unacceptable.

Pippin knew better. Of the two of them, she had been the one inching beyond the bounds of the Shire, not Pip. He and Merry got into shenanigans close to home. She wandered over the North Moors and learned archery, not Pip. But somehow she'd not been on the invitation for this disappearing act beyond Buckland?

"I always invited him," she said, "But does he return the favor? No! No, why would he? Unbelievable."

An autumn breeze tossed hair in her face as she continued down the lane. But her bare feet still felt the warmth of summer under them. She wished she could hum a little walking tune but every time she tried her mind raced with thoughts of where Pippin could be, what he could be doing, how in the Longbottom Leaf he could've left without her! May his pipeweed always run out.

She was a North-Took of Long Cleeve. The blood of the Bullroarer lived still in her! Dramatic, perhaps, but Diamond justified all her quirks to him. The Shirefolk called the Tooks a bit queer on occasion too, of course, but they all but fainted at the sight of Di. She walked around with a bow and wasn't even a bounder!

Diamond smiled at a passerby. Waistcoat perfectly buttoned, quiet rotund, with a stack of letters under his arm, he was the perfect picture of well-to-do.

"Good morning," he said.

But his tone certainly did not. One glance at her bow visible in broad daylight in Stock of all places and Diamond had already been written off as someone not to talk to.

"Good morning," she said right back.

Not that her tone was any better. She was already annoyed with Pippin. Diamond didn't have time to get further annoyed with the folk of the Eastfarthing. Or the Westfarthing. Thank goodness she'd left them behind. She hated the Westfarthing and their high and mighty attitude.

As she rounded the hilly path up towards the center of Stock, she could hear the cheers and songs of happy hobbits enjoying the Golden Perch. Diamond paused. She looked over the Morning Glory decorated fence around the yard in front. It had been years since she'd tasted the best beer in the Eastfarthing. Maybe a quick detour wouldn't hurt.

The laughter of hobbit lasses sounded from the central gazebo. Diamond frowned. She clutched a strap across her chest a bit tighter. Her knuckles turned white. The beautiful golden curls of Wisteria Goodbody bounced around her shoulders as she laughed with her friends.

No Golden Perch vintage was worth putting up with that good-for-nothing stuck-up girl.

Diamond continued down the lane. The Brandywine Bridge wasn't far. Trying to put the ringing laughter of her mortal enemy out of her mind, she focused on the task ahead.

Step one, find Pippin. Step two, scold him for leaving her behind. Step three, join him and Merry on whatever adventure they had found.

Simple, really. And she knew just who to start with to find Pip.

Gossip traveled around the Shire faster than weeds sprouting up in an untended garden. News of the disappearances of the heirs to the Brandybuck, Baggins, and Took fortunes in some invasion from over the Hedge had reached her even up in Long Cleeve. Buckland had been invaded, some said. The only survivor: Fredegar Bolger.

Now it wasn't that Diamond truly believed the rumors of an invasion from the Old Forest. Nonsense drummed up by hobbits afraid of their own shadows no doubt. But as her sister Peridosia was fond of saying, even in the most outlandish gossip, a good loremaster could find the truth.

Peridot was no loremaster. She liked to pretend to be, going so far as to insist to Diamond that she was training to be a wizard's pupil. She had never met a wizard. Spying on them didn't count, as far as Diamond was concerned. But if she pointed that out to Peridot, inevitably she would have to deal with being told she was not a real adventurer either. Meeting a ranger and carrying a bow didn't count.

That's what made Pippin's betrayal all the more audacious.

The bridge rose up in front of her. It had not been built by hobbits, though its true origin could not be guessed. Peridot said Men had made it. Which was obvious, even to Diamond. If an elf had made it, it wouldn't have been falling apart. They did everything perfect.

Or, she guessed they did. She'd never met one.

But the size of the stone bricks could not have been carved out by hobbits. Even the stonemasons of Scary lacked the proper tools. And it spanned so far. The bridge reached across the whole of the Brandywine. At least the stonemasons could keep it repaired.

No other hobbits passed her on the way across. Odd. Perhaps fear of the evil Hedge attack had canceled the Farmer's Market. And indeed when she set foot on the Buckland side, she found it still in uproar.

A hobbit foreman shouted orders to his workers as they began to nail together some boards. All along the Hedge she saw built or partially built reinforcements. Torn from its hinges, yet more set to work repairing the wooden slats of the Buckland Gate.

A shiver ran down her spine. Maybe the gossip held more than a bit of truth? What had Pippin gotten himself into?

Diamond pushed through the small crowd of craftsmen. None stopped her. The bounders seemed too busy patrolling the Hedge to care about the entrance to Buckland.

If she knew Fatty Bolger, and she'd spent enough time with him to make a good guess, he would likely be at Old Bridge Inn. So she set off.

Never in all her life had she ever found an inn so empty. But the only person who matter was in the back corner, nursing a pint by himself while the bartender, old Marcho Burrows, aimlessly wiped down his bar.

"Fredegar Bolger!"

He looked up, eyes wide. Diamond almost felt bad for her shout, unable to contain her irritation at the whole situation. She apologized to Marcho with a quick smile before joining Fatty at his table.

"I don't know anything!" Fatty said. He held up his hands, scooting back. "I swear. I swear, Diamond! I told 'em not to go!"

Diamond paused. Now she really did feel bad. She saw the way his body seemed to shake from fear and she hadn't even begun to question him. Peering over the table, she realized his mug was nearly empty.

"Let me get you another one."

Fatty brightened up. By the time she'd retrieved another pint from Marcho, and one for herself for good measure, he'd stopped shaking.

"There," she said. Sliding into the chair across from him, she took a sip of her own. Pretty good, but no Gold Star from the Perch. "Now, I have a few questions."

"I don't know where Pippin is!"

Diamond narrowed her eyes. He twitched and fiddled in his seat. She would start with something else, then, if he wasn't ready to be honest.

"You were helping Merry get Crickhollow ready for Frodo Baggins weren't you?" she said. "How did the move go?"

Fatty frowned. He took another drink. And then another. "Well as can be expected."

"And then out of nowhere the whole Hedge attacked Buckland, snatching away the heirs to Brandy Hall, The Great Smials, and old Bilbo's treasure?"

"I told 'em not to go inside!"

Diamond raised an eyebrow. Then she smirked. There it was again. Fatty had heart, but wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

"So are you saying they went into the Old Forest?" she said. "The Old Forest didn't come here?"

Fatty frowned, hiding behind his drink as he took a huge gulp. No answer came. But he didn't need to answer. His silence spoke volumes. Just as she'd suspected, the attack had been gossip lies. But then, that didn't explain Fatty's terror at the questioning.

"Are you all right, Fatty?"

"No, heaven's no," he said. It came out more like a whine than a statement. "It's all too much. They came for me but I'm not him."

"Who?"

"Black Riders."

Diamond took a drink, hoping to hide her own confusion. Black riders? Perhaps it was time to see Crickhollow for herself.

She gave Fatty another few coins for his future drinks. Crickhollow wasn't far from the Old Bridge Inn. If there had been an attack, she wanted to know.

Bounders stood around the gate to Crickhollow in varying stages of concern. A few couldn't be bothered to even hold their clubs and slings, lounging on the grass or on a barrel outside the gate. But others were much more agitated.

Fear began to replace her anger at Pippin. They wouldn't let her inside. No place for anyone not a Bounder, they said. Diamond rolled her eyes. But she had no desire to push the issue. She could see beyond them just fine.

Something had destroyed the beautiful hobbit door. A window had been smashed. Hoof prints, much bigger than any pony used by hobbits, littered the ground all around the low hedge and gate into Crickhollow.

A heavy pit formed in her stomach. She gripped the wood of her carven bow. Pippin didn't know how to fight. Not unless he'd trained in the last few years, without her knowing. That seemed unlikely. He'd quickly settled for causing chaos close to home while she looked abroad.

Her bags were already packed. Food, extra clothing, even a crude map of what she guessed lay outside the Shire were all stuffed together in her backpack. She had her bow. She had her walking stick.

Diamond turned back to Buckland. Anticipation made her practically buzz as she began to wander towards the old Brandybuck entrance to the Old Forest. No one watched her. They were too busy dealing with the Hedge and the bizarre destruction of Crickhollow. Many had forgotten this little path under the Hedge from long ago.

"You shouldn't go!"

Diamond froze a few feet from the exit. When she turned, she found Fatty Bolger out of breath, fear written in his face.

"I need to find Pip."

Fatty shook his head. "It's dangerous! The stories-"

"I appreciate your concern, Fatty. But I can do this." Diamond smiled, stepping towards him. The sun beat down on her, lifting her heart a little. "Trust me."

He didn't respond. But he didn't stop her either. So Diamond turned back to the gate. Her hand trembled as she felt the cold, metal door knob. Sun never touched it, here in the shade of the Hedge tunnel.

She pulled. The gate opened soundlessly. Diamond could feel her heart pounding. Fear froze her in place. All the stories of the dangers of the living wood flashed through her memory.

But she was Diamond of Long Cleeve. Heir to the North-Tooks. Descendant of the great Bandobras the Bullroarer who both won the Battle of Greenfields and invented the game of golf. She was a hobbit of ill repute. An adventurer in the making. And her friend was in danger.

With a deep breath and not a single look back, she stepped beyond the Hedge. Diamond smiled. It was time to be a hero.

Chapter Text

T.A. 2998 | S.R. 1398

20 years ago

Diamond held her Mama's hand as they stood before a hobbit hill so large, she thought this must be what mountains looked like. Up and up it went. She strained her neck trying to catch a glimpse of the very tippy top.

How many hobbits lived there? Great Smials, her Mama called them. No, no. Not Great Smials.

The Great Smials.

This was where those Tooks lived. Mama didn't seem to like them very much. She spoke to Papa about them when they thought Diamond wasn't listening. But Diamond loved to listen. She always listened.

Who needed sleep when the grown-ups were gossiping?

So the Tooks in these The Great Smials had a lot of money. Much more money even than the North-Tooks of Long Cleeve. Which seemed to make some people in the family a bit miffed. Why did they get rich? Their lines had diverged millenia ago and the North-Tooks came from the better half.

That's what Mama said, anyways. But as Diamond stared up at the towering The Great Smials, to her seven year old heart all she could imagine was how many kids were running around in there.

So many, probably.

She held her Mama's hand a little tighter. Warnings had been given, back when they left Long Cleeve. "Remember, Diamond. We are not Tooks. We are North-Tooks who trace our line back to Bandobras himself."

Then she went on to say a whole lot of things that Diamond did not, in fact, remember. What had Mama expected? She talked about the Bullroarer. Her brain was filled with goblins and swinging clubs and victorious pony rides. And then Peridosia had started crying, which ended that conversation before Mama could ask the questions and realize that Diamond had not, in fact, been listening.

But now some of the words that the Bullroarer had driven out came rushing back in.

"They might make you feel small. They like to tell people how respectable they are compared to us, these days. Never you mind that their children still wreak havoc across the lower three Farthings to this day," she had said.

They sounded fun. But Diamond wondered if they'd gotten the same lecture she had received in their grand sitting room of the Reeve House at Long Cleeve. Or even worse, if the gossip Mama participated in was just gossip, and they were in fact much more respectable.

Diamond knew she was not respectable. Her Mama said that a lot. Funny that she defended the North-Took's adventurous streak to outsiders but not in the least to her own daughter.

She stopped holding Mama's hand. Instead, she held onto the cloth of her bright green dress. They had to wear nice things to this party. Diamond would've preferred a dress that she wouldn't get scolded too much for getting muddy but they had been invited to these The Great Smials for the first time in decades and Mama wanted to make a good impression.

"No adventures today, Diamond. Smile, be kind, and represent your family well."

Mama took her hand back. The huge bottom door of The Great Smials opened and out stepped a handful of well-to-do hobbits and hobbit-ladies. They didn't look so different from the North-Tooks but for a little rounder in the stomach. Everyone smiled wide and opened their arms up.

Mama did the same. Diamond found herself rooted alone in a small crowd of her relatives moving past her like a forest if trees could walk. Everyone sounded so happy. There was to be a wedding after all, between some cousin of the North-Tooks and a Took girl. What was her name? She should at least know that.

Diamond chewed at her nails, trying desperately to think. What had her Mama said? Ottobrand Bracegirdle and…and…Oh! Hyacinthia Took! Cousin Ottobrand and Hyacinthia. It was to be a grand affair later that year and everyone had gathered at these The Great Smials to hammer out the details.

"Come on, Adamanda!" her mother said.

Diamond looked up at the use of her full name. Eyes wide, she scurried up the path to the entrance of this lowest hobbit hole. It would not do to get in trouble right off the bat. She had to try to be respectable.

"And this is our daughter Diamond," Mama said.

Diamond looked up at the people she was talking to. They looked nice enough. Kind of boring, like most hobbit grown-ups especially outside of the Northfarthing. One had brown eyes and sandy blond hair. The other had black hair and blue eyes. The woman with her black curls curtsied to her with a big smile.

"Good morning, Diamond." She extended a hand. "I'm Eglantine Took."

Diamond took it, as her Mama had instructed. "Hi."

"Did you know, you are just about the same age as my son, Peregrin?" She smiled, turning to Mama instead. "Camellia, have you met Pippin? Usually he'd run off with Esmeralda's son at these sort of events but with the passing of Amaranth Brandybuck my poor sister and Merry are stuck across the Brandywine."

"I haven't had the pleasure, no," Mama said.

Mrs. Eglantine turned around to look back into the crowded halls of The Great Smials. Diamond watched her searching for someone. This other boy. Diamond stood on her tip toes. But there was no boy to be found.

"I apologize," Mrs. Eglantine said. "Come, let's see if we can find him."

Diamond knew that look. Mama got that look all too often, when she hid at family functions in the hopes that the grown-ups would set to talking again and she could go unnoticed a little longer with her cousin Dahlia.

Too bad Dahlia couldn't come. She'd caught a cold. Lucky.

Holding Mama's hand, Diamond allowed herself to be led further into The Great Smials. Tunnels branched off in endless directions, with rooms off of each of these. She'd never seen anything so grand in her life. These Tooks really did have a lot of money.

"Peregrin Took, get down!"

Diamond peered passed her Mama to catch sight of the boy. He stood precariously on a barrel of some sort, attempting to reach inside a crate stacked on another beside it. Blond hair kept falling into his eyes. At Mrs. Eglantine's voice, he ripped his hand down and nearly toppled over in the process.

And Tooks were supposed to be so much more respectable? Diamond smiled up at her mother. But Mama just shook her head quickly. Fine then. Be that way.

"Where's Pimpernel? She's supposed to be watching you," Mrs. Eglantine said, muttering as she hauled Pippin to the floor.

"I don't know," Pippin said. "Off doing girl stuff?"

Girl stuff? What did girl stuff mean? Diamond bristled at the thought that girls could not be just as adventurous and fun as boys.

Mrs. Eglantine whispered under her breath before turning back to Mama. "I apologize, Camellia. We're usually much better behaved than this. Apologize, Pippin."

"Sorry?"

"Deeply appreciated," Mama said.

Diamond just scoffed. Appreciated? She could just imagine how much fun Mama would have telling stories of Mrs. Eglantine's crazy Took son at the next Weavers Meeting in the Reeve House. She always spread the best gossip there.

"Pippin, this is Diamond of Long Cleeve. And her mother, Mrs. Camellia North-Took." Mrs. Eglantine pushed Pippin forward a few inches. "Say hello."

"I was going to!" With a quick roll of his eyes at his mother, he stepped forward and bowed a very practiced bow. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. North-Took. Hi Diamond."

Their eyes met. Instant sizing up. Who was this person? He had blond hair and overly dramatic manners. Very different from the North-Tooks or the Bracegirdles, Mama's family. Rich clothing. Buttons messed up. Potential friend?

"Hi Pippin. Nice to meet you," she said, when her mother placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Why don't you two run along?"

Diamond looked up first at Mrs. Eglantine for suggesting it, and then to Mama for permission. But the grown-ups hadn't waited to begin wandering off in search of food and, likely, gossip. Always with the gossip.

"So."

"So."

Pippin smirked. "I've not seen you around here. How far is Long Cleeve?"

"Far," she said. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure how far. She'd read the maps, of course. Maps were her best friend in the Reeve House. But she couldn't really read well. Just enjoyed the pictures. So she lied. "Two hundred miles."

"Wow!" Pippin's eyes lit up. "I got mushrooms from the crate. Wanna go eat them?"

Diamond grinned. Of course! Following after him as they weaved through close and distant Tookish and Bracegirdle relations, she did her best to keep up. The hobbit holes of The Great Smials seemed able to house over a hundred hobbits. A remarkable feat.

"I wish Merry was here," Pippin said.

They'd found a secluded corner of The Great Smials, a small bedroom turned storage space packed floor to ceiling with all kinds of toys and trinkets.

"He's my cousin," Pippin said, "But he got lucky and gets to go to a funeral in Buckland."

Diamond munched on another of the mushrooms. At the mention of Buckland, her heart raced. She'd always wanted to visit. That was the only other part of the Shire as filled with less than respectable folk as the Northfarthing. And then there was the Old Forest. She couldn't read very well, but she'd found old children's stories with artwork of the Hedge, a warning to never go beyond.

"He's in his teens," Pippin bragged.

Diamond's mouth fell open. He got to hang out with a teen? She was seven and none of the teens in Long Cleeve wanted anything to do with her. Fortunately Dahlia was closer in age. But beyond that, there was only Peridot. And Peridot had barely started walking.

"What's Buckland like?" she said.

Pippin's eyes lit up. "Better than anywhere in the Shire. Tuckborough is so boring. Hobbiton is even worse," he said. "Buckland has the Old Forest. Not sure if you've ever heard of it up in Long Cleeve."

"Of course!" She stopped messing around with all the toys carefully stacked one on top of the other and turned back to him. "Have you been?"

"Yes," he grinned. But then he frowned. "Well, not in it. But near it!"

Diamond skipped around the room a bit. She clambered on top of the bed, barely holding her balance. With a flourish of her pretend sword, she gestured to the sky. "When I'm older, I'm going to destroy the Old Forest. Long live the Bullroarer!"

Pippin laughed. He lept up too, drawing his own air-sword. "But the goblins will stop you."

"No they won't. I'll be just like the Bullroarer and kill them all!"

They battled hard for control of the Old Forest. Each swing of a sword threatened the stability of the bed. But Diamond had spent countless hours practicing her footing on fallen trees and wading through rushing brooks. She would not be defeated by this Tookish upstart goblin.

"Wait, wait," Pippin said, huffing. "Wait. Mushroom break."

Diamond could agree to that. They climbed down from the bed and went back to the last few mushrooms Pippin had stolen. Closing her eyes, she savored the taste.

"Break's done!"

Before she had managed to recover, Pippin had flown back to the bed and scrambled now to the top. He laughed hysterically. Fury bubbled over in her chest.

"That's not fair!" She forgot all about her pretend sword and ran to the bed to push him off. "You can't just take the top while we're doing a mushroom break!"

"I said the break was done!"

Diamond felt tears at the corners of her eyes. That wasn't fair. They should've restarted where they left off. But she didn't want to be labeled as pouty on their first meeting together. So she huffed another quick breath and settled her shaking body down.

Now she could be a goblin. He was not a descendant of the Bullroarer. This time, the goblins would win.

She drew her sword with a hiss. The blade shone in her hands. Brilliant and older than time, it would take down the foolish Took that stood between her and victory. She would win back the Old Forest.

Chapter Text

T.A. 3018 | S.R. 1418

Diamond had been in several different forests in her twenty-eight years of life, but none quite like this. The Old Forest moved. It had to move, because there was no other possible explanation for how terribly lost she had become.

As an adventurer to be, Diamond knew better than to go charging off out of sight of the Hedge without marking her trail. Only a foolish hobbit would do so. With a little slash of a carving knife she had placed a trail that could lead back home. Only the trees did not seem to like that very much.

Other forests did not seem to care quite so much when she put a little mark on their trunks. The towering oak and pine trees around Long Cleeve did not. And neither did those beyond the North Moors. But these trees in the Old Forest… well, if she didn't know better, Diamond would've said they were cross with her.

The second time a branch dropped nearly on her head after she marked a tree, she huffed. Hands on hips, she held her tiny knife up and pointed at the tree.

"Now, that is not polite. I would never have thought a tree would care that I am less than respectable. In all my years."

The tree did not respond. Diamond frowned. The air around her sucked up her voice like she'd been screaming into a pillow. Ancient branches reached across to one another and blocked out any view of the sky.

She put away her knife. "All I want to do is pass, my good trees. My friend is missing and I intend to find him."

Still no response. How foolish. They were trees, after all. They couldn't speak. There was nothing to do but go forward, seeing as the marked trees behind her were no longer marked at all.

Merry had warned her once about the Old Forest. They both enjoyed maps, and though he did not nearly have the adventuring spirit of a North-Took, he certainly had more than the average respectable hobbit. So when he told her about the time he'd strayed beyond the Hedge, she'd listened.

It had all gone fine, he said, until darkness began to fall. That's when he knew he had to get back on the good side of the Hedge. The trees were queer. They moved and whispered and conspired against any that would walk among them.

Nonsense of course. But then again…

Diamond frowned. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as a stuffy breeze rustled the trees around her. Were they talking? Were they, of all things, conspiring?

"I promise to leave you alone," she said, "but I am not leaving without Pippin. Have you seen him? A blond hobbit with the best laugh you've ever heard?"

She blushed. What a stupid description. No tree responded. The path remained difficult to traverse, with brambles and boulders and too many roots to count gnarling and tangling all around.

"He bursts into song far too often," she added. "Rarely very good ones."

Nothing. Well, there was nothing to do but go on. Diamond wasn't sure how much daylight remained but she wanted to make the most of it. Staying in the Old Forest after dark was about the most foolish thing one could do.

Then again, Diamond had never been known to make the smartest of decisions when adventuring was on the line. She chewed some salted nuts and carried on.

As darkness fell, a chill ran down her spine. The trees had herded her towards the Withywindle Valley. No amount of bargaining with them had helped. In the dark, she feared what lurked within.

Forests rarely had trees alone. Wolves, badgers, the occasional angry squirrel were all known to inhabit the woods around the Shire. Bounders dealt with any wolf brave or stupid enough to approach the towns. But out in the wild, in the cold northern moors that Diamond had explored for years unending, there were no bounders. Only rangers, and they were few and far between.

She took her bow off her back. These trees did not want to talk. She had tried to speak sense to them but they ignored her. So she would be ready.

Diamond ran her hands over the smooth, dark wood. Little designs had been carved into it by its maker. Nothing mattered more to her than this.

At least the trees felt more like home. Oak and ash had been the constant near Buckland. But here she found willows on the valley floor and pines up above. It reminded her a bit of Long Cleeve. The Withywindle river cut a great cleft through ancient rocky hills. Here in the Old Forest, though, the trees reigned. And there were far more willows than elsewhere.

"It would be quite unkind to do anything rash to me, you know," Diamond said. "I never did anything to you."

A root snagged her foot. Diamond toppled to the forest floor. Her hands braced for impact but the dirt dislodged. With a scream, she tumbled into the meandering river.

Spluttering, she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached. Twigs and mud got in her hair. Diamond couldn't help the tears blurring her eyesight. Looking down at her scraped hands, she wanted nothing more than to scream.

This was not at all what an adventure was supposed to be like.

Diamond clambered out of the lazy river. Fear shot through her. Her heart raced as she desperately combed the forest floor for her bow. Where was it? She couldn't lose it!

"Very unkind!" she said. "Awful, awful trees!"

In the dark, nothing replied. She felt tears rolling down her red cheeks. Moss covered sharp stones, roots hid behind every leaf and fallen pine needle. Diamond wanted her bow and her best friend and to carry on out of this awful forest.

"I usually am quite fond of trees," she said, between raging sniffles, "but not you! I would call you less than respectable but that would be too nice!"

She heard humming on the edge of hearing. Oh how kind of these awful trees to serenade her, like that would mend her broken heart. If these trees had broken her bow-

"Don't think you can win me back!"

There it was! There! Diamond dove to the foot of a pine tree where her bow had gotten caught among the roots. As the singing got louder, she ignored it in favor of checking over her greatest possession in all the Shire.

Diamond stared up at the pine. "You're lucky I found it unharmed! I'd have… I'd have… I'd have done something truly unbecoming of the Shirefolk!"

"What is this I'm hearing, shoutin' at the trees?"

Freezing in place, Diamond tried to cower behind the trunk. How foolish, to forget that of course more than trees lived in this wood. The voice came from further along the river. It didn't sound like a Ranger. She had not met many but they didn't tend to sound quite so lyrical.

"Is that another hobbit? Come out around the tree so I can have a look at you!"

Well, she'd been caught. And frankly anything was likely better than spending the rest of the evening and night hours with these awful trees as her only company. Peeking out from behind the trunk, she hoped to spot him before he saw her. But that was not to be.

The person staring right at her was not a man, not at least like the Men she'd met. Nor could he have been a dwarf. Well, maybe. She'd only seen them from afar. Certainly no elf.

His big yellow boots practically shone in the pale moonlight. Partially undone was his blue coat and a bit disheveled was his long, brown beard. Diamond froze. But then she took a big deep breath, took a step out from behind the tree, and tried to make herself as presentable as possible for someone who just tumbled down a muddy bank into a reedy river.

"Where be you a-going lass? Ol Bombadil will have it! There have been too many hobbits wandering in woods they don't belong in." He sighed and shook his head. "It's not safe for Shirefolk along the Withywindle."

"Well, good sir, I am Diamond North-Took of Long Cleeve, and I am on an adventure." She held her chin high and clutched her bow tightly to her chest. "Be it safe or no, I must explore the woods to find my friend."

The man grinned. He laughed, and for a moment all of her fear in the darkness evaporated like dew on the Moors. It was a good laugh. Diamond couldn't help but join in, especially as a dollop of mud fell from her face to the ground below. Truly ridiculous.

"Come then, Diamond of Long Cleeve, you will come with me back to my house for safe-keeping. Ol' Tom knows the friends you seek. They too took looking after."

"Pippin is there?"

"Questions will wait for morning, when the sun can shine among us. You're lucky you make quite the racket. My lady and I roused from sleep!"

Diamond should've felt guilty for waking this kindly man but she did not. The trees in his forest were very unkind and deserved a bit of telling off. Allowing herself to be herded along a path she's somehow missed, Diamond just looked forward to cleaning up and hopefully a little food.

Mr. Bombadil sang as they went. She couldn't really follow the tunes. They sounded nothing like Shire songs. But they were enjoyable nonetheless. By the time they reached the front door of his beautiful stone cottage, her eyes were very droopy and belly quite rumbly.

"Is that another hobbit?"

Eyes wide, Diamond looked upon the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. Tall and fair and lithe, she had yellow-blonde hair cascading about her shoulders like a waterfall and eyes as blue as she imagined the ocean must be. Bombadil bumped into her back in the doorway.

Diamond imagined she looked awful. This elf princess did not need to look upon such a horribly dirty and not respectable hobbit girl in the middle of the night. She suddenly felt very bad for waking them.

"I am terribly sorry," she said, "I did not mean to be trouble-"

"Come here, sweet child," she said. "I care not for the state of your hair nor the mud on your feet. I am Goldberry, river daughter."

The evening passed in a blur. Mr. Bombadil herded her inside and all at once, exhaustion crashed into her. Thoughts of food fell to the back of her mind. There was only need for sleep.

Diamond woke in a clean dress, not a hint of mud anywhere on her person, and most importantly, in a comfortable bed. Birds sang outside the little window. Somewhere in the cottage she heard sweet singing that immediately called to mind the babbling brooks of the Northfarthing. Home.

She tiptoed out of bed. Her carven bow sat beside the doorway with her adventurers pack. The scent of sweet cream and syrup and, opening her eyes in excitement, honey butter floated from the main room.

Goldberry stood at the sink, allowing water to flow over her hands as she hummed a lovely tune. Diamond had never seen anyone so beautiful in her whole life. This had to be an elf. All the tales she and Peridot had gathered as children of the elder race flooded back in.

"I am glad you are awake, young Diamond of Long Cleeve, adventurer and friend." She turned to face her, smiling wide. "Come! Take my hand and let us speak of fair things while we wait for the master of the house."

"Are you an elf, Lady?"

Goldberry laughed again. "Nay, child."

Diamond did not press further. She had no desire to embarrass herself again in front of such a grand queen. Allowing herself to be led to the table, she eyed the food hungrily.

"I know hobbits love food, and I prepared some just for you!"

Diamond thanked her as she dug in. Everything tasted perfect. Truly, Diamond had never eaten a single meal as good as this in her whole life. Her mother would hate to hear it. And yet, it was true.

"Have you seen my friends, Lady Goldberry?" she said.

Goldberry smiled and nodded. "Yes, many days ago. Fear not! They left safe and sound."

That was good. It made her feel less guilty for focusing on eating instead of finding Pippin. The honey butter, as she'd suspected, was particularly well done.

The door opened. Taking off his large, feathered hat he bowed to Goldberry and then to her. Diamond stood and returned the gesture. It was the least she could do.

Mr. Bombadil just smiled. "Now then, little lady, I have a quest for you. Your friends have passed beyond your reach. Yet still there's more to do!"

"But where did they go?"

"Where exactly, we cannot say," Goldberry said. "They are beyond the Master's forest, but travel not alone. We had news from Bree yesterday by way of beasts and bird."

Mr. Bombadil tossed a small tassel her way. Diamond caught it. It took no time to realize what it was; the seal of the Brandybucks, stamped onto leather.

"But I want to find them!"

Goldberry squeezed her hand. "There are more ways to help your friends than to seek for them in the wild lands."

"My lady is right," Mr. Bombadil said. He came over to her and knelt on one knee. "Still, there's much that can be done, right back in your Shire. And you can start by helping Ol' Tom himself."

For a moment she wanted to say no. She wanted to scream that he didn't know what he was talking about. She could find him. She could go adventuring. It wasn't fair that he got to leave and she and she had to stay.

But as Diamond took a deep breath, running her thumb over the seal of Brandy Hall, reality crashed in. She hadn't even made it out of the Old Forest on her own. How could she hope to travel in the lands of the Big People?

"Very well."

"Little Diamond was not the only one to show up in our forest yesterday," Mr. Bombadil said, standing back up straight. "Old friends we had made just days before came back straight a-ways it seems!"

She followed him out the door. Grazing on the great lawn, brilliant sunshine bathing the world in warmth uncharacteristic of autumn, stood six ponies. She recognized five.

"Those are Merry's ponies!"

She ran towards them, all mixed up with concern and wonder. They seemed well enough. None had their saddles on, but she had spent enough time with the Brandybucks over the years to know their steeds.

"Right you are, little lass," Mr. Bombadil said. "But they belong to other masters now. If you be looking for adventure, Diamond of the Northfarthing, you could take them far as Bree for me. Ask for Master Butterbur."

Bree. Butterbur. The excitement that had filled her chest in the tunnel under the Hedge washed over her once again. Fine then. Pippin could have his own adventure. When he got back, she would have tales to spin for him that he could only hope to imagine.

Chapter Text

T.A. 3001 | S.R. 1401

17 years ago

Of all the splendid things Diamond had ever seen, Mad Baggins's eleventy-first birthday party was the splendidest of all. Mama told her to behave herself. Diamond had no intention to do so.

She had never met Mad Baggins. Mister Bilbo Baggins, as her mother had insisted she call him. Diamond preferred Mad Baggins, as it was much more interesting a title and meant there was finally someone else a bit less respectable than her. She had never met his heir either, Mister Frodo Baggins, though Merry Brandybuck knew him and by association, so did Pippin.

The party began before elevenses. For an hour they had stood in the long line outside the Party Grounds. Mama and Papa clutched their invitations close to their chests. They had not been forgotten, much to their surprise. Diamond had checked it herself.

Mama was a Bracegirdle by birth, after all, and Mad Baggins's cousin Mister Otho Sackville-Baggins had married Mistress Lobelia Bracegirdle, Mama's second cousin once removed. Or something of that sort. Genealogy made her head spin. All she needed to know was she was related to the Bullroarer. But Mama said it helped to know such other things. And Diamond had to admit, standing there just meters from the white gate to the party, she enjoyed the benefits of the family tree.

Another family moved inside. There he was, the Mad Baggins himself. Mister Bilbo Baggins. He had brown hair without a hint of grey and looked barely older than Papa himself. Eleventy-one, indeed! Diamond let go of Peridosia's hand to slip a little closer.

Maybe the Wizard had done something to him? Diamond had heard tales of Gandalf forever. Peridot's favorite bedtime story was called One Too Many Fireworks, authored by a cousin of the Old Took and starring the wandering wizard. According to Pippin, he would be here.

It was their turn. Mister Baggins bowed politely to them and wished them all very good mornings. Diamond couldn't speak. This here was the gentlehobbit who had been whisked away on a year long adventure only to return with unimaginable riches and tremendously good luck.

"You must be Adamanda?"

He'd said her name. Mad Baggins knew her very name! Diamond straightened up and curtseyed.

"Thank you for your kindly invitation, Mister Baggins. And happy birthday," she said.

"Thank you very much," he said.

"Is it true that you saw a dragon?"

Diamond blurted it out before she even realized the thought was on her tongue. Mama scolded her at once. Blushing deeply, she shrunk back. Diamond offered a small apology. One did not ask about such things of ill repute, least ways not out in public.

But Bilbo just smiled and laughed. He assured Mama that he took no offense at the question. "My dear young lady," he said, "I can assure you, I did, and more than see one. He was as great and terrible as your imagination can conjure."

Diamond could not tear her eyes away from his. Mouth agape, she couldn't speak. She could only focus all her strength on not fainting as Mister Bilbo reached behind a curtain and pulled out a little mechanical dragon. Her hands shook as she took it.

"And you met a wizard?" Peridot said.

Mister Bilbo turned to her sister. "You are Peridosia, I assume?"

"Yes."

"Pleasure to meet you, Peridosia. I do know a wizard, yes. Have you met one before?"

"No. I met Mayor Goodbody once and Mama says he's very smart."

Mister Bilbo chuckled again and shook his head. "He is smart. But not a wizard. Wizards are much too adventurous and not at all respectable like our Mayor."

Diamond watched Peridot's green eyes light up as Mister Bilbo gifted her a wizard doll. How had he known just what to get them? How many of these gifts lay behind the curtain. But before she could ask, Mama and Papa ushered them inside the gate and away from the great Mad Baggins.

"Now Diamond," Mama said, "At least try to be respectable. I know it's nearly impossible for you but we must make a good impression. We are not often invited to events in the Westfarthing!"

Diamond watched as Papa took Peridot off to find food. The great field surrounding the Party Tree swarmed with hobbits of all sizes, ages, and shapes. Music lifted up into the air and cheers resounded through the crowd.

"Adamanda are you listening at all?"

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She turned back to her mother. "I will try, I promise."

Her mother sighed, but waved her off. And with that dismissal, Diamond couldn't help but smile. She would do her best to be respectable among these Westfarthing gentlehobbits and hobbit-ladies but that didn't mean she couldn't have fun, too.

There were many different games to play. She recognized none of the other children yet but it didn't matter. Pippin would be here somewhere, and Merry too. Though she knew Merry was caught up much more with the birthday of Mister Frodo Baggins. He came of age today.

A real shame, as Merry had said last time they met up in Brockenborings. He had grown up in Brandy Hall and made quite a name for himself among the children there. Now he was all grown and likely to become overly respectable.

Of course Merry had just entered his Tweens. He was well on his way to having to be respectable, too, though Diamond didn't point that out. Pippin was but a year from Teens…

Diamond made her way to one of the dance stages. She loved watching the musicians. Mama had gotten her flute lessons, and some day she hoped to be as grand as those on the stage. Ladies and gentlehobbits with fiddles and drums and flutes and bells played a jig as others clapped along and danced.

"Fatty!"

She recognized Merry's voice over the din. Turning away from the music, she tried to find him. Diamond pushed between the dancers. Finally, near a tent with candied apples, she found them.

Merry and Pippin stood with Fredegar Bolger. Beside them were Estella Bolger, Fatty's sister, and two of Pip's older sisters, Pimpernel and Pervincia. They were teens. Diamond grinned and ran up.

"Isn't this wonderful!" she said.

The others turned to her. Estella, Pervincia, and Pimpernel said quick hellos to her before leaving. Diamond waved after them. Off to do fun teen things, she supposed.

"Hello Diamond," Merry said. "Enjoying yourself, then?"

"Very much so! There are so many things to do," she said, "and so many people! The Westfarthing is marvelous."

Diamond wasn't sure if her Mama would agree wholeheartedly, or scold her for overly admiring the rich and well to do down south. It wasn't as though the North-Tooks didn't have their fair share of money. Her Papa was Reeve of the North-Farthing, after all. As heir to the Bullroarer he'd inherited the title. She wasn't sure it meant much in the grand scheme of things. But it was a title. And it would be hers one day.

Merry said he was glad she was having fun before quickly returning to conversation with Fredegar. A few other tweens of Buckland joined them. They moved off.

"What did Bilbo gift you?" Pippin asked.

Diamond grinned. She pulled the mechanical dragon out of her pouch. When she twisted a little bronze windup and released it, the wings flapped. Diamond almost cried. It was so beautiful!

"That's incredible! I left mine with my mother. I think she wanted to hide it. Bilbo got me a painted wooden sword with runes that glow in the dark!"

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Diamond asked.

Her stomach growled at the thought. Lanterns cast warm glows all around the party space as people began to group up for dinnertime. Before he could respond, a great whizzing noise filled the air. All eyes turned to the sky.

Explosions of color painted the night. Diamond couldn't help her gaping mouth as fireworks danced against the stars. Butterflies of aquamarine, falling leaves of emerald, leaping flames of scarlet rained down among them. Each bang brought more beauty.

The soaring eagles exploding from red fire to reach for the heavens were her favorite. But truly, there were too many to pick. She loved the silver stars. They fell among the patrons with the fresh scent of morning dawn. Roses, daisies, golden sunflowers blossomed from singing fireworks.

The party plunged into darkness. Among the shouting hobbits and scuttling party goers, she could not tear her eyes from the pillar of dark smoke filling the air. Excitement and fear all at once filled her body.

Then came the dragon. Golden-red, larger than an oak tree, with eyes as fiery as the flames coming from its jaws. Hobbits threw themselves on the floor. But Diamond couldn't look away. She couldn't move.

With Pippin beside her, she watched it soar. It roared overhead. She felt the heat of the dragon on her upturned face. Ash fell about her as it passed a second, and a third time. Diamond watched it fly over Bywater. There it fell, twisting in the air until at last, it died. The explosion shook the entire Shire. Even she curled down in fear.

Mister Bilbo's call for supper woke the hobbits at once from their stupor. But not Diamond. In that moment, she knew she would never forget that night. Someday she would travel beyond the bounds of the Shire, just like Mad Baggins.

"That was better than any story told of the Old Took," Pippin said, breathless.

Diamond smiled. She held her mechanical dragon under her chin, cradling it. But her stomach rumbled again she remembered the time.

"Dinner!" she said. "Want to join me?"

Pippin shook his head. "Sorry! I've got a special invitation to Bilbo's Twelve Dozen Dinner."

He pulled out a little white card, now crinkled from his pocket. In beautiful golden script, Pippin had been invited to a special dinner celebrating 'Bilbo Baggins's Eleventy-First Birthday and Frodo Baggin's Coming of Age'.

"Oh," she said.

Pippin was lucky, being from a more respectable family. And one of closer relation to Mister Bilbo and Mister Frodo. She would be stuck with Peridot and Mama and Papa. Unless…

"We could sneak you in," Pippin said, the same devious smirk on his face.

They laid their plans. The special dinner was to be held in the Great Pavilion with the Party Tree. No doubt many members of Hobbiton and the surrounding areas would be wandering about. All wanted to know what lay inside.

That would help, to start. But then it would become a bit more tricky. They came up with very plans on such short notice. Stealing a large coat and pretending to be one large but short hobbit. Hiding her in a crate and pushing it in as a gift for the Messrs. Baggins. But in the end those were deemed far too convoluted.

Diamond would simply walk in. Act like she belonged. She did belong, after all. She had Bracegirdle blood and, if she remembered her genealogies right, some Goodbody and Bolger as well from far back. Though how those had married into a North-Took family, she didn't know. Respectable Goodbodies did not often associate with them.

Pippin left to join his family. His sisters would be responsible for wheeling in Mistress Lalia Took, the matriarch of the family. So fat that she couldn't walk, Pearl especially resented all the days she had to spend tending to the very cross and immensely old head of the Took family.

So Diamond wandered. She could hear her Mama's voice in the back of her mind, reminding her to be respectable. Or try. She was only recently eleven and a North-Took. Why did her mother expect so much?

She found the serving hobbits. A group of young brothers were carrying plates and bowls for the older cooks to finish preparing. Calls for the Cotton boys to hurry up drowned out a lot of the chatter. This would be a good place to follow.

Grabbing a pitcher off a work table, Diamond moved from the main party to the pavilion dinner. It was heavy, and smelled of some sort of beer. She disposed of it on a table nearly immediately.

It didn't take long to find a spot to sit. Pippin located her as soon as the feasting began. He passed her some of the extras, for there was indeed a lot of extra, before heading back to his family. Quite content with her meal and a view of the action, she settled on the grass and waited.

Most hobbits, Diamond knew, did not at all like speeches. And to be fair, were it to be anyone besides Mister Bilbo, she too would have groaned and grumbled. But he had seen a dragon. So she would listen.

He began respectably. Each family that had been invited cheered when their names were called. They cheered when Bilbo celebrated his age. And they cheered, yet again, when he asked if all enjoyed themselves thus far.

Diamond moved a bit closer. A group of Took and Brandybuck children had taken up residence near one of the corners. Pippin, grinning at her approach, quickly shoved a flute in her hands.

"For the end of the speech," he whispered.

And it didn't take long. A good hobbit speech was short and sweet and to the point. So when the loudest cheers went up, Merry Brandybuck stood on a crate to conduct them. It was less music and more noise. But Diamond laughed between loud notes. Some of the hobbits began dancing on the tables. The best party ever.

But evidently Mister Bilbo had not finished. Three loud horn blasts drowned out their orchestra and all fell silent. Diamond lowered the little flute of Dale, whatever that meant, to her side. His tone set a little storm of excitement and fear in her heart that would not go away.

She hung on every word. They had been chosen for a purpose. One gross of his relatives. She saw the grown-ups mutter and mumble at the term. But Diamond didn't mind. Mister Bilbo had earned the right to be less than respectable at times.

And then, the storytelling began. Images of barrels floating down forest streams and an endless lake filled her mind. Cold-sick dwarves, and Bilbo, nose all stopped up, forgetting in the adventure of it all that it had been his birthday that day too.

No one spoke. Diamond would have cheered but even Pippin watched without a word. So she settled herself, trying so desperately to be the respectable hobbit her Mama needed her to be.

"Thirdly and finally," Mister Bilbo said, "I wish to make an announcement!"

Diamond perked up. Something was coming. Something big. She could feel it, and her feet tingled to leap up and run to him, to see what great deeds this hobbit of ill repute could command. Eleventy-one and still as adventurous as ever!

"I regret to announce that though, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you… this is the end. I am going."

He couldn't go. He had to stay. He had to tell her stories of dragons as he had to the more respectable children of Tuckborough. He couldn't-

"Good-bye!"

Diamond closed her eyes as a brilliant white light filled the pavilion. No one spoke. At last, blinking away the blindness, Diamond stood as they all exploded in shouts of anger and fear.

He'd disappeared. Mister Bilbo had disappeared!

"Where'd he go?" Diamond demanded. She turned to Pippin. "Where did he go?"

"I've not a clue," he whispered. He turned to Merry. "Where'd he go?"

Merry didn't say anything at first. But then he smirked, and shrugged. "Mad Baggins is off again, I would guess. But there's food and drink here for us still!"

Pippin laughed with him, as did the other Tooks and Brandybucks. But Diamond frowned. She didn't want Mister Bilbo to leave, not when she'd finally met him. So she slunk away. Holding her mechanical dragon close to her chest in one hand, and her flute of Dale in the other, she returned to the main party.

Maybe he would come back? She looked up the hill to Bag End. Perhaps he had done it all as a joke to scare all these silly, respectable folk of the Shire.

But deep in her heart, she just knew. She knew. He would not come back. Diamond searched through the crowd for her family. Being a hobbit of ill repute was for the rich and the old, who could afford such a moniker. For now, she would return home. There she had money already. And perhaps someday, she would be plenty old enough to be less than respectable among her peers.

Chapter Text

T.A. 3018 | S.R. 1418

Herding five ponies down the road all by herself was not the easiest task in the world. Diamond was very glad that Merry's ponies were well behaved. Otherwise, the journey could have been a quest all to itself.

But they were, in fact, quite well behaved. A lovely little brown one did not at all mind being her steed for a day. It was very exciting.

Diamond knew some particularly adventurous Brandybucks used to venture down the Great Road to Bree. Those days were few and far between, though. She had tried to convince the others of the worthiness of such a trek many times. How unfair of them to go this way without her now.

Fair blue skies opened up above her. A few puffy white clouds floated by in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Diamond allowed her mind to drift. One looked like a butterfly. Another, a soaring eagle. She'd not seen an eagle before but one of Peridot's books had illustrations.

The ponies plodded along. Far in the distance she could see Bree Hill. That was her destination. It took all her strength not to urge the ponies into a dead sprint. This was adventure. This was her dream.

Oh, how she couldn't wait to tell Peridot all about it when she got back to Long Cleeve. An attack on Crickhollow, those trees of ill repute, the mysterious not-man in the woods and his not-elf queen wife!

Diamond knew she would never forget beautiful Lady Goldberry. The way her golden hair fell about her like a beautiful veil pushed back… the way her voice filled a room with warmth and light. No hobbit could ever hope to do that. Diamond knew she certainly could not.

Bree town sat on Bree Hill not far ahead. Mr. Bombadil had given her instructions not altogether clear and yet saying enough according to him: seek for Butterbur at the Prancing Pony and return to him these five lovely beasts.

Why Merry had sold his ponies, she had no idea. Mr. Bombadil had not seen fit to divulge such answers if he had them. But it gladdened her heart to know she was following in Pip's footsteps.

Or hoofprints, really.

She found the gate not at all as she expected. Armed Big Folk stood before it, four with pikes and two with clubs. Her eyes widened at the sight of these Bree Bounders. Shire Bounders did not often stand guard at any place. They roamed, and they enjoyed themselves, stopping most frequently to escort nosey hobbits away from the Post or the occasional scuffle at one of the taverns between tweens with too much time on their hands.

For all her less than respectable status, Diamond had never gotten in a scuffle at a tavern. Nor did she pester the postmen as they went about her duties. She just asked too many questions, spoke of too many would-be adventures, and happened to live in the Northfarthing in Long Cleeve.

Long Cleeve looked the exact opposite of Bree. Bree reared up in front of her with a big wooden fence and stone wall that seemed a bit worse for wear. Though difficult to see beyond, from down the road she'd looked at the way it wound up and up on Bree Hill so that the top looked out around the fields towards Buckland.

But Long Cleeve did not sit on a hill. Long Cleeve, as its name implied, sat in a cleave (as it was more properly spelled, according to Peridot) of the rocky forests near the North Moors. So while the land around it went up, Long Cleeve went down. Streams and little brooks cut through pine and oak woods. And it was there that she had learned how to be less than respectable.

As Diamond led the ponies forward towards the gate she hoped, very much, that these Big Folk with their big weapons did not know she was less than respectable. Narrowed eyes and crossed arms greeted her. But no weapons, which she decided was quite the success.

"Good day, gentlefolk of Bree in Breeland," Diamond said. She dismounted and gave a quick curtsy. "I am Adamanda North-Took of Long Cleeve in the Shire. Diamond, if you please though. And I come with ponies for one Mr. Butterbur at your Prancing Pony."

Quite proud of herself, she smiled. That was a respectable introduction. Hopefully these Bree Bounders found it acceptable, too. After quick whispers to each other, the bounder in the center moved aside and rapped on the gate.

"Thank you very much," Diamond said.

She took hold of the lead rope of the main pony and watched to make sure the others followed behind. With day turning to evening, Bree was bathed in a warm, orange glow. But even that could not make it seem homey to Diamond.

The buildings were far too large. Doors were square and not round. Few windows had planters with the last buds of autumn flowers, All and all, things seemed very grim.

And not just the buildings or streets or footpaths. The people looked dreadfully unhappy too. Those out in the open scurried about like frightened squirrels looking for nuts and predators. Some stood in little groups gossiping. It appeared people from Bree enjoyed that past time too.

Whenever she saw a hobbit, she smiled her most polite smile. They returned it with a distrustful glare before hurrying down a lane or side street or into a nearby door. Diamond frowned. Perhaps it had not been just the Shirefolk responsible for losing contact and friendship with the Breelanders.

The Prancing Pony sat near the top of the Bree Hill. A place of great importance, the inn had a beautifully carved and painted sign hanging over the door. And above it, in big white letters, read "The Prancing Pony by Barliman Butterbur," though the Barliman paint looked to be overlaid many times on other paints below it.

Diamond preferred the one in Long Cleeve. They had "The Roaring Bull", inspired by her ancestor of course. The best hobbit to ever come out of Long Cleeve.

Stabling the ponies, Diamond walked up the couple of steps and pushed up the big door with the handle at hobbit height. At least the Big Folk welcomed hobbits here in Bree. She had been warned that was not always the case by the Rangers.

A rush of noise and the smell of alcohol and food hit her as she stepped inside. The dying light of day streamed in through the windows. The fire, roaring amidst the busy folk inside, cast a warm glow everywhere but the darker corners. Smoke settled in the air. She caught a whiff of the unmistable scent of Longbottom Leaf.

"Good evening, good evening," said a loud, boisterous voice from across the way. "Half a moment, if you please! Half a moment!"

Diamond searched for the voice. She found it in a robust man with pale skin and rosy cheeks. With an apron over plain cotton clothing, he darted between tables. The man scrubbed tables and replaced empty tankards with full ones. Barliman Butterbur perhaps?

When he at last came to stand before her, Diamond made sure to introduce herself quickly. Who knew how much time he had before he would be swept back into the sea of patrons?

"Good evening, good sir. I am Diamond of Long Cleeve, and I am here to return five ponies from Meriadoc Brandybuck. Well, technically they're from Mr. Bombadil but-"

"Bless me, another one of the Shirefolk," he said, eyes widening. "We don't want any more trouble here, young lass. But if you be returning those ponies, I'm afraid to say that little Master Brandybuck departed many days ago from Bree."

"Thank you kindly for the information," she said, though she didn't really mean it as she'd known they would be gone already. But Diamond was much more concerned by his initial statement. Why would she be bringing trouble? She was not a respectable Shire hobbit but she certainly didn't think of herself as dangerous. "I promise I do not bring trouble here. Are you Mr. Butterbur?"

"That I am," he said.

She nodded back. "Then the five ponies are yours now. Did he not sell them to you before he left?"

A dark look passed over Mr. Butterbur's face. He did not respond right away, but then he smiled. "He did not. But it would be my honor to care for them til he comes back, if he comes back." The smile had dropped.

"Would it be at all possible," Diamond said, "to get a room for the night?"

Butterbur gave her a small smile and a quick nod. "You're in luck! We've got a few hobbit sized rooms that aren't being used. I'll have Nob show you in. And take a seat at the bar whenever you'd like! Though company's a bit on edge since the attack."\

Diamond leaned in to catch his last statement before he ran off. Attack? She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Why did everywhere Pippin had gone get attacked?

Following Nob, a pleasant enough hobbit though he seemed pressed for time, she realized in that moment that she had nothing. Luckily Lady Goldberry had cleaned her clothes after that awful spill in the Old Forest. But beyond her bow at her back and a pouch of snacks and coins at her side, she had nothing.

The room was pleasant enough. Far too large for one hobbit. But Diamond didn't mind, as the pillows looked comfortable enough for an inn room outside the Shire.

She sat for a while. Outside her little window she could watch the Bree folk going about their evening routines. There seemed to be more Big Folk than Little, as she had overheard someone called a hobbit. The Little People of Bree, as opposed to the Big People. Not a bad description really. Straight and to the point.

But soon enough, she got antsy. It started in her feet. Swinging them in front of the nice wooden chair of the sitting room did not alleviate the itch. Then it was her hands. She tried folding them. She tried sitting on them. But soon enough it became clear that staying in her room was not going to work.

Who knew when she would next leave the Shire? She did not want to go home, not yet at least. Too much to explore.

She started with supper in the tavern. The only open table sat in one of the darker corners, but Diamond didn't really mind. She could keep herself out of the way. The fair was good enough. Plain and a bit small for what she was used to but this was Bree. Clearly they did not have the same standards as the Shire. Pity.

A group of hobbits animatedly told a story at one of the larger tables. It seemed most had heard it before. It seems someone named Mr. Underhill had gone and turned himself invisible, run off to tell some ruffians about how many horses were stabled at the Pony, and then left with a Ranger after the attack.

When the hobbit started placing blame on the Ranger, Diamond knew for sure he was lying. She had no time for gossip mongers. Listening to such twisted tales at the Pony would lead to nothing but trouble.

So she left. The main street of Bree was pleasant enough in the cool, autumn evening. The sun had set. A small breeze blew through the lamp lit street. When she wanted to, Diamond knew how to get about unseen and unheard. So when the name she overhead some Big People of Bree talking about one Lotho Sackville-Baggins, she dipped into the shadows to listen closer.

Her mother did not like the Sackville-Baggins, least of all her cousin some-times-removed Lobelia. They thought far too much of themselves. It was no wonder Lotho had not found a wife even unto his middle age, she liked to say. No amount of money in all the Northfarthing was worth putting up with them.

Diamond wished she could blame the rest of the Shire's poor opinion of the Northfarthing on the Sackville-Bagginses, but unfortunately, she could not. For all his insufferable whining, Lotho had a good mind for trade. He focused quite a bit on profits, too much for most hobbits. But he got the job done and had never done anything to earn the moniker of less than respectable.

How in the Bullroarer's Bracers his name had reached the ears of the Big People in Bree, she could not imagine. Three of them stood just outside the light of a street lamp. As Diamond got a better look of them, her mouth ran dry. These did not look like respectable folk at all.

The tallest one, named Devon if his friends were to be believed, had dark hair and several old scars across his face. He seemed to be driving their clandestine conversation.

"I ain't heard from the Chief in weeks. But last message we got, we was supposed to work with Lotho no matter what. So quit whining, Bert."

"But he's an idiot. Just send Keaton south for a few weeks, and we'll have enough boys to roll through that whole Shire."

Diamond's eyes widened. She did not like this Bert fellow. Talking about the Shire like that? How dare he. How could he! And Keaton, with honey blond hair and a much younger face, hardly impressed her more. Though he certainly scared her more. He had much larger arms than either of the others.

"Just say the word, Dev."

"I said the word!"

The others shushed him. Such an outburst, even in the side path, could easily be heard by anyone eavesdropping. Diamond shivered. But as they slunk further into the shadows, she tried to urge herself to follow.

Her legs turned to jelly. She did not at all like this part of the adventure. Scary Big People from Bree talking of talking the Shire. And knowing Lotho? How was he mixed up in all this. Diamond took another few steps down the lane to hide behind some barrels.

"Look. We don't wanna just take the Shire," said Devon. "That don't help us. We ain't farmers. The halflings are farmers, and they gotta make the crop. So they make the crop, Lotho sells it south, we protects the shipments. Got it?"

The other two just grumbled. But the matter appeared settled, and all three split from each other. Diamond shrunk back against the wall. She couldn't breathe. They would have to pass her hiding spot. Heart in her throat, she tried not to cry.

They passed her. Diamond tried to stop shaking. Her quivering hands grasped at her dress collar, then at the wood of her bow.

She had to get home. Pippin would have to adventure with his friends. The Shire had to know. Mayor Whitfoot had to know.

But know what? Diamond ran back to the Pony. What had she even heard? Tears pricked at her eyes as she threw herself into the bed and pulled the covers tight. Something was coming. She felt the pit in her stomach that came only from danger.

The Shire had to know.

Chapter Text

T.A. 3004 | S.R. 1404

14 years ago

Like all hobbits, Diamond loved mushrooms. But more than that, more than anything, her greatest love was strawberries. And the best of all strawberries grew in the Westfarthing.

Diamond skipped alongside Pippin down the lane to Michel Delving. He, in turn, tried to keep up with Merry Brandybuck and Fatty Bolger. All sorts of hobbits passed them on the road. Many held baskets of food that made her mouth water.

Turning her face skyward, she basked in the sun. For all her love of adventure, nothing could replace this. Mama did not always approve of her spending time with Tooks and Brandybucks, but even she saw no issue with attending the Farmers' Faire.

The whole Westfarthing had been decorated. Bywater hosted fishing events. Picnics were held at the Party Tree. But the biggest event was the Faire in Michel Delving. Any respectable Farmer of the four farthings knew to bring their best goods for sale and friendly competition.

Merry and Fatty chatted all the way from Bywater to Michel Delving. Pippin would join in here and there, when he could get a word in with the older tweens. But Diamond had nothing to contribute. She just watched the world go by, the sunflowers blooming all along the lane, thinking of her perfect strawberry.

Her Mama disliked Michel Delving. It was the most important town in the whole Shire, but Mama said the hobbits there were far too self important. Diamond didn't know about all that.

"Have you been to the Faire yet?" she asked Pippin.

"I went with Merry last week," he said, "meeting up with Frodo Baggins!"

Her eyes widened. Pippin was only a year older but he was so lucky to get to hang out with Merry and the other tweens, because they got to hang out with the nephew of Bilbo Baggins. Diamond only spent time with Peridot.

They reached the top of the hill. Music and the incredible scent of baked goods floated towards them on the gentle summer breeze. Pippin cheered as they looked down into the town.

The Mayor's Manor looked out over the town square from a hillock on the far side. She had never met Mayor Goodbody but had certainly heard stories. Mama did not like him. Said he was too busy reorganizing the Post and the Bounders for no good reason at all. But people seem to like the Goodbodys. And Mama was not the most reliable source.

A large pavilion had been erected in the center of town. There was no Party Tree here like in Bywater, but there was a main stage that remained all year long and now a lovely tent that kept it in use rain or shine through the Farmers' Faire. Stalls of various foods and goods lined the foot paths all throughout the rest of Michel Delving.

Diamond grinned. On the main stage a little band of Hobbits plucked strings on their fiddles and tuned their flutes. All about them, hobbitladies and gentlehobbits stood in small groups excitedly chattering away. Children ran through town without a care.

Diamond remembered being little. She wasn't little anymore which meant Mama let her go to such things as this all on her own with Pippin and Merry. Someday those little lads and lasses would grow up like her. It is hard to believe Peridosia had already reached the age of eight!

From up here on the hill she surveyed the goods. There were breads and sweets, meats and cheeses, vegetables and fruits. Strawberries with fruits. Diamond turned to Pippin but he had already disappeared down into the town, following Merry and Fatty.

She would surprise him with some strawberries, then. Skipping down the lane into the center of town, Diamond allowed the sights and sounds to surround her. Good music, good food, nothing but laughter. For all the fun she had going beyond the Shire, she really did love the Shire.

Diamond took a big breath in through her nose. Mama had requested only one thing from the Farmers' Faire: a tote of the Scarlet Appledores. Old Gaffer Gamgee tended to the Appledore orchard near Bag End with special magnificence. Scarlet Appledore apples made the best, sweetest apple pies.

Her mouth watered just thinking about them. She would find the apples first. That way Mama was for sure to make the pies. It wouldn't do for the apples to be all gone by the time she made her way there today. That would be a travesty.

Diamond didn't recognize very many people as she wandered through the crowds. There were some folk of the Northfarthing that she spotted here and there, running hither and thither. But they stayed mostly in their little groups.

Most folk here but probably of the Westfarthing. Or maybe the Southfarthing? Diamond didn't really know the particulars of many of the other farthings. She knew the well to do families by reputation and some by sight. But for the most part she spent time either in her home Farthing or running over fields and hills after Pip.

Mama said it was time for her to start acting her age. She would be responsible for the Reeveship of Long Cleeve one day. Diamond didn't particularly want to be the Reeve, signing off on various matters of officialness and hearing complaints about intolerable children of ill repute causing havoc. Or that's what Papa always complained about.

Either that or complaining about how the post always took too long to reach the Northfarthing. He said Mayor Goodbody didn't take his concerns seriously. Mama said it was to be expected from one of the rich Westfarthingers.

They didn't like it when Diamond pointed out that they had far more money than most of the Northfarthingers, so what really was the difference? Reputation, apparently. Good breeding. North-Tooks deserved as much respect as those Tooks of Tuckborough.

Diamond could not care less. Then again she supposed that's what Mama and Papa disliked. That she didn't care. She spent her time mucking about in the woods.

She found the Appledore stall. The Gaffer himself, whom she did recognize on site as she'd been on this errand before, stood with hands in his hips, arguing with some older hobbit in brown overalls and a big hat. It was time to be respectable. Diamond drew herself up to full height, classed her hands in front of herself, and waited.

"Can I help you, Miss North-Took?"

She startled, and Samwise Gamgee, the Gaffer's youngest son, hastily apologized. He was around Merry's age, though they didn't run in the same circles. She felt her cheeks flushing in embarrassment that she hadn't noticed him behind the stall to her left.

"Yes please. I need one tote of red apples."

He offered her a small smile before turning behind and gathering the order. Diamond stood as still as she could and waited. But there was so much. There were things to do all around and not nearly enough time before the end of the day to do them all.

"If you don't like my prices, then off with you Sandyman!"

Diamond turned back to the stall at Mr. Gamgee's raised voice. Pity she hadn't been paying attention. It would've been very interesting to listen to the grownups' spat.

Mr. Sandyman waved off the Gaffer with a raised hand before walking away. Mr. Gamgee took a deep breath. Muttering under his breath, he turned back to Diamond. He smiled.

"How are you today, Miss North-Took? Is the Farmers' Faire finding you good?"

"Very well, Mr. Gamgee. Thank you."

"Did your mother send you for the usual?"

"Yes!"

Mr. Gamgee turned away to help his son. Sighing, Diamond turned back to the sights and sounds of the Faire. The musicians had started up again. An impromptu jig seemed to have started all around the main stage.

"One tote of red apples for you, Miss North-Took," Mr. Gamgee said.

Diamond looked back. She passed over the required coin and accepted the small sack of apples excitedly. Mr. Gamgee gave her a big smile at her enthusiastic thanks.

"Enjoy the Faire!"

Time to find the strawberries. Weaving in and out of little crowds, she did her best to locate the strawberries as quickly as possible. She wasn't sure how long the band would be playing on the main stage and she wanted to go dance.

It took far longer than she liked to find the strawberries. Though in reality it probably wasn't very long at all. There they were, a whole two stalls of freshly picked strawberries. Her mouth watered as she looked at them. Red and juicy and shining in the sunlight. Mr. Farmer Cotton always had the best spread.

Only problem: a half dozen grownup hobbits crowded around his stalls, vying for attention from either the Farmer or one of his sons. Diamond didn't want to wait. There was space to squeeze in, or maybe even crawl under the table and go for some of the strawberries that were in the crates at the back.

But she heard Mama's voice in the back of her head. Be respectable. Represent the family well. Show those Westfarthingers what North-Tooks were all about.

So she waited. Hands clasped in front, mouth shut, red hair only slightly blowing into her face, Diamond waited.

And waited.

Grownups certainly didn't seem to mind cutting in front of her. A little ball of indignancy began to grow in her chest. Her face flushed. Diamond felt her leg bouncing as she tried not to get mad.

But she couldn't help it.

"Stop it!" Diamond snapped, as another older hobbitlady stepped in front of her. She'd had enough. "Stop!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was waiting here!"

With a scoff, the woman clutched at her small necklace. "Where is your mother, young lady?"

"I was waiting here, and you cut in front of me!" she said. "I'm being very respectable!"

Before the woman or any of the other gentlehobbits could contradict her, one of Mr. Cotton's sons cut in. He steered the lady towards his father before turning back to Diamond.

"You're Miss North-Took, yes?"

Diamond nodded. She didn't want to risk opening her mouth in case she started to cry. But the older boy, probably still in his tweens although maybe already of age, she wasn't sure, offered her a quick smile.

"Thank you Miss for waiting so patiently. What can we get for you?"

"I would like a dozen strawberries please."

"Give me just a moment."

She waited again. The hobbitlady who had cut in front did not spare her another glance before walking away with her own strawberries. Diamond just glared at her back. Westfarthingers. She could tell just by the accent that she was from around here.

"Here you are, Miss. A dozen strawberries." He walked to the edge of the stall before handing her a small bundle tied off with twine. "Your patience was appreciated and noted."

Diamond forced a smile. She thanked him quickly before turning away. Before she could take a step, though, he handed her one more strawberry. He said it was from his pa.

After thanking him one more time, she sped off. Diamond did not wait very long before taking a bite of the strawberry. It was incredibly sweet, just the perfect ripeness. A little bit of strawberry juice escaped her lips. She could not help but grin and pushed all bitterness away so that she could enjoy the Farmers' Faire.

It didn't take long for her to spot Pippin. He, Merry, and Fatty were in a small group with a few other girls. Diamond only recognized one of them, Saffron Took. Pippin's cousin had always been nice enough at Tuckborough. Not nearly as adventurous, but kind, and only a few years older. She had light brown hair and light brown eyes. Very pretty, and people often told her that.

The two other girls look to be about the same age. To Saffron's right stood a girl with long black hair and brown eyes. Her pink dress flowed in the wind as the breeze began to pick up. On Saffron's left, a girl with curly blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes laughed at a story Merry had just finished telling. As Diamond ran up it took a moment but she realized she did know this girl. It was Wisteria Goodbody, Mayor Goodbody's youngest daughter.

Diamond grinned, running up with the last bite of strawberry in her mouth. She barely had time to skid to half without bowling into Merry.

"These strawberries are better than ever!" she said. "Have you had any yet?"

They all turned to her. She flicked the little green leaves to the ground and wiped her hands on her apron. Diamond waved to the girls.

"Hello Saffron! Diamond of Long Cleeve," she added for the other two.

Saffron shot her a tiny smile. She turned to her friends but had no need to introduce them. Wisteria Goodbody did it first.

"Wisteria Goodbody," she said. "And this is Sapphira Sackville."

"Nice to meet you!" Diamond turned to the whole group and practically bounced up and down with excitement. "Have you tried the strawberries? They're nearly as good as the wild ones I found in the woods on the edge of the Moors! Did I ever bring those for you to try? I can't quite remember."

"Oh I know you. You're Diamond North-Took," Sapphira said. "You live in the Yondershire."

Diamond paused. Yondershire? She hadn't heard the term before and wasn't entirely sure she liked it. "I live in the Northfarthing."

"Right. The Yondershire," Sapphira said.

Wisteria chuckled. Diamond did not. Pippin seemed very interested in whatever Merry and Fatty were discussing so she turned back to the girls. Perhaps it was just the nickname down here. Fine.

"You all live in the Westfarthing, then?"

Saffron nodded with a quick smile. "Yes! Wisteria is Mayor Goodbody's daughter."

"Yes. I heard a dreadful rumor the other day, Diamond." Wisteria moved a bit closer. "My father said some of his friends said that the North-Took family's younger daughter is training to be a wizard. But that can't be true, can it?"

"Peridot's just playing," she said. Diamond felt her cheeks growing red and she stopped smiling.

"That is good to hear. I would never say such a thing, but some people say that you prefer to go off on ill conceived adventures, chasing after the sort of thing that Mad Baggins used to do," Wisteria said.

"Yes I heard that too," said Sapphira. "But I suppose such things are bound to happen in the Yondershire. I hear that those folk are all always far too queer. Such things happen when you're so close to the wilds."

Diamond drew herself up. "It's called the Northfarthing, not the Yondershire."

"My mistake," Sapphira said.

"Wisteria, Sapphira, maybe we should go dance?" Saffron asked.

Wisteria just smirked at Diamond. "Have you ever gone dancing? I'm not sure that you're good at much except for being strange."

Before she could do anything, Merry stepped in. Whether they had been listening and just not done anything, or been far too engrossed in their own conversations before her voice raised, Diamond didn't know. She hoped it was the latter.

"That's enough Wisteria! If you aren't going to be kind then you should leave," he said. "Nobody wants that around. It's ugly."

Wisteria just scoffed. But evidently she didn't feel comfortable arguing with a tween. With Sapphira beside her and Saffron following behind, Wisteria flounced off. Diamond's eyes blurred with tears.

"Don't mind her," Merry said. "She's too engrossed in her own world to care about anyone else."

"You got strawberries?" Pippin asked, as Merry walked away with Fatty Bolger.

Diamond knew she was going to cry. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of Pippin and who knows who else. She pinched herself under her sleeve and tried to turn the sadness into anger.

"I hate the Westfarthing. It's absolutely awful. I am never ever ever setting foot here again!" Her nose scrunched up. "Next time, you should come to the Northfarthing!"

She didn't wait to hear his response. Diamond knew she was mere moments from spilling over with tears and she couldn't be seen that way. Gathering her apple tote with the bundle of strawberries inside, she fled off up the hill down the lane towards her home. Towards the Yondershire, as the girls had called it.

Mama was right. The folk of Michel Delving were awful. With their stupid big town surrounded by fields and not enough forest or rivers or wilds. She wanted her home. She wanted her pies that Mama made.

Diamond swore, as she put Michel Delving behind her, that she would never ever ever set foot there again.

Chapter Text

T.A. 3018 | S.R. 1418

Even using Merry’s pony, gifted to her by the lovely if a bit scatterbrained Mr. Butterbur, Diamond did not reach the North Gate of Buckland until nightfall. Her heart pounded in her ears the entire journey. She kept running it over in her mind. Over and over.

Lotho Sackville-Baggins had friends with the Big Folk. Unsavory friends. How did he know such scary looking folk? He had been active in the Northfarthing for years, drumming up support from the Shirriffs and the Bounders. He kept the bad folk out. He kept the beasts beyond the borders.

Diamond had friends with the Big Folk. But they were kind. These folks didn’t sound kind. Their weapons looked mean and their tones fierce.

A chilly wind blew over the Brandywine. She dismounted from her pony and ran up to the Gate. They had to let her in. They had to!

She knocked so hard on the gate that her hand hurt. Three quick hits, then she stepped back. She heard shuffling feet. Quick as a flash, a mini round window the size of a hobbit’s face opened so all she could see was brown eyes in a pale face framed by auburn hair.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Adamanda North-Took, of Long Cleeve in the Shire,” she said. “Please, I must speak to the Master of Buckland. Or leastways to your Shirriff!”

“‘Bout what?”

Diamond grimaced. She knew how her claim would sound. But it had to be made. “A matter of great importance. I can say no more!”

“We don’t got no time for more troublemaking, Miss. Get a bed at the Old Bridge Inn until more respectable hours. Then we’ll see!”

She heard the latch unlock and taking a half step back, waited for it to open. To her surprise, the Gate had been almost completely repaired even in the week she had been gone. More than repaired. Strengthened. Diamond’s eyes widened. Fortifications that had only been started when she left for the Old Forest now stretched quite a ways around the Hedge.

“Have the trees attacked, then?” Diamond asked.

“Surely you’ve heard across the water!” The bounder, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips as if he was personally offended, ushered her in. “The Trees took Master Meriadoc, and what’s more, Master Peregrin Took and Master Frodo Baggins with Gaffer Gamgee’s son! A right disaster it is. Bagginses always were queer. Must be his fault.”

She closed her eyes and counted back from five. Diamond had little patience on a good day, but this rumormongering about their disappearances was trying to destroy what little remained. Tuning him out, she set off down the road to Old Bridge.

Warm light streamed out of the windows of the sprawling inn. She could hear the carousing from the green lawn out front. At least there were some having a good time in Buckland.

Diamond paid for her room quickly. The crowds inside were restless, not partying out of good fun but instead anxiety and confusion. Where had the heir of Buckland been taken off to? What evil lay in store for them from the Old Forest? Some even suggested turning to the Shire for help. Unthinkable, for many before. But not now. They needed Shirriffs, they needed more Bounders!

Her head hurt. Diamond clutched her bow close to her chest as she lay on her back in a comfortable bed. Outside, the wind blew hard against the window. The moon climbed high. Only moments before had the crowds begun to subside in the main room.

Danger would not come from beyond the Hedge. Mr. Bombadil and Lady Goldberry would never let them down. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the beautiful cottage in the glade. The scent of honey cakes and fresh strawberries made her mouth water. Lady Goldberry’s queenly voice floated a light mist in a gentle breeze through the darkness. 

No. The Hedge would protect them from the Forest. But the hobbits had to know about the ruffians in Bree. 

Unfortunately, Master Saradoc did not agree. He’d welcomed her into Brandy Hall without hesitation; she’d visited more than a few times with Pippin. But he did not at all look like the beloved Master of Buckland she remembered.

Sandy brown hair messy, rich green clothing disheveled, and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, he paced back and forth of the grand sitting room. Mistress Esmeralda, Pippin’s aunt, wore blacks and greys. She sat on an intricately carved couch with a handkerchief in hand.

“How you can say the Hedge should not worry us after my son was stolen, I cannot understand, Diamond!” Saradoc said. He shook his head vigorously. “No, no. I won’t hear it. I cannot hear such things. To say they left voluntarily!”

Esmeralda sniffled back tears. “Diamond, I know you don’t condemn such… queer activities such as adventuring as most hobbits do.” She frowned, but continued on with as neutral a tone as she could muster. “But my son and nephew would never abandon us like this! My sister is a wreck!”

Diamond frowned. Mrs. Eglantine had always been kind to her. But the truth was the truth, and Pippin and Merry had not been abducted by the Hedge. Their enemies did not come from the Hedge. The threat came from the road!

“I understand, Master Brandybuck, and Mistress Brandybuck.” Think, Diamond! How to sound as respectable as possible? “Fortify the Hedge then. But beware the Road from Bree!”

“We have a Gate, and we lock our doors,” Eglantine said, tears in her eyes again. “How else would you propose we protect ourselves?”

“With all the respect you are due, Miss North-Took, the Brandybucks have defended Buckland for generations upon generations.” Saradoc stopped pacing. He stood in front of her, folding arms over his rather large chest. “You should see to the Northfarthing, if the threat of outsiders is as dire as you propose. Your father is the Reeve, is he not?”

“He is.”

“Good. Then I bid you a good morning,” Saradoc said, “and ask that you distress my wife no further with talk of our son!”

That was that, then. Diamond drew herself up, curtsied her best curtsy, and left the bustling Brandy Hall. The morning sun blinded her as she stepped out onto the grand porch atop Buck Hill. In little windows in the hillside she saw the faces of inquisitive hobbit children, watching as she descended in winding switchbacks into the center of Buckland below. 

Winter came early. She blocked another gust of wind with her traveling cloak. It was not yet mid November and already the cold crept in. Or perhaps it was the lack of manners of the Bucklanders who ignored her attempts at wishing them good morning as the ran about with supplies for the defences along the Hedge.

Diamond swallowed the lump in her throat. It wouldn’t do to give up with Buckland. It was true, they did have a Gate. They did lock their doors. Perhaps it was time to convince the rest of the Shire to do the same, however odd the practice seemed.

She met no travelers on the Brandywine Bridge. Along the long, lonely span she tried to think of what words would spur Mayor Whitfoot to action. More than even many other hobbits he loved his vittles and his peace and quiet. That got him the Mayorship after all. No one liked a mayor who put his fingers in the pies of too many others.

The Westfarthing had no concept of danger. Only those who roamed beyond the Moors knew that. Diamond gripped her intricate bow even tighter. But a wolf or a badger were not the same as Men. Big Folk had weapons. Animals had teeth and claws and for the most part, instincts for self preservation over grudges.

Even hobbits held grudges. Diamond felt her cheeks flushing as she thought about the Westfarthing. Only a few years ago had she set foot in Michel Delving for the first time since childhood. And here she was, headed that way again. Unbelievable.

The second evening from Buckland, rain began to fall. It was a gentle rain, cold on her face as it flew in under her hood. Almost pleasant. She could see the twinkling lights of the Green Dragon of Bywater on the other side of town. Her feet ached now that she made the journey without a pony. And as she got closer, the smells of roasted meats and well aged cheeses set her mouth watering.

Diamond threw her hood back as she walked inside. A rambunctious crowd gathered inside, many hobbits gathered around with beer and good food, smiling and laughing. But not everyone laughed. Tables with sullen faced hobbits and hobbit-lasses also stood out. Diamond frowned.

She looked over the crowd. Most she recognized by face, but not name. Hobbits of Bywater and Hobbiton often stayed in their villages, content to live in the center of Shire-happenings. But she did know one. Peony Took, second or third cousin of Pip, sat with two other hobbit lasses. Their expressions betrayed their anxiety.

Diamond bought a pint from the bartender and a room for the evening. No questions were asked; Bywater seemed little perturbed except the hobbits on the fringes of the inn. Hopefully, Mayor Whitfoot would listen. Then the Shirriffs and the Bounders, far more respectable than a lone North-Took known for wandering, could investigate the ruffian threat.

As she approached the table, Peony caught her eye. The girl smiled wide, relief in her voice as she called Diamond over. For a moment, she didn’t move. It was not often anyone expressed such jubilation at her approach.

“Diamond! Diamond!” Peony grabbed her in a hug, yet another oddity. “Pippin’s come back, then?”

Peeling herself from Peony’s excited embrace, she frowned. The other two girls looked just as happy. But she shook her head. “I beg your pardon? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He didn’t go off with you, then?” Peony’s face fell. She took a half step back before sinking into her seat at the table again. “I thought…We thought…Well, you are known to, well, wander. And perhaps Pippin and Merry had gone too this time, and Frodo and Sam with them. But if you’re here. And he’s not. Then…”

“Please don’t be taking our disappointment as criticism, Miss Diamond. Sam is my brother,” said one of the other girls. She had brown hair with a tinge of ginger when it caught the light of the fires. “Marigold Gamgee.”

“Rosie Cotton,” said the last. She had the loveliest curly brown hair. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Diamond.”

Diamond frowned too. Four frowning hobbit lasses in the lively and lovely Green Dragon. She plopped down next to Peony. “No, Pippin didn’t leave with me. He should have.” As she took a big drink, she could feel the eyes of the girls around her staring. “I mean, if he was to go off adventuring he should have taken someone with some experience. To be safe.”

“Right. Yes, of course,” Marigold said. But she didn’t seem convinced. “Well, lucky for Sam he don’t have to be here with Ted Sandyman’s gloating.”

“What’s he got to gloat about?” Diamond asked.

Peony scoffed. “Don’t even get me started!”

“You ain’t heard?” Rosie sat back with a long sigh. “Sandyman went and sold the Mill to Mr. Lotho for some plan to make it bigger, more productive.”

Diamond wrinkled her nose. Lotho Sackville-Baggins again. He’d just come into the ownership of Bag End on the Hill and he was already changing things in Hobbiton? Bold of him. What did it have to do with the Big People in Bree though?

“Don’t call him Mister Lotho. He’s Pimple. Or that’s what my cousins call him,” Peony said. “If you must call him Mister, then call him Mister Pimple!”

“Anyhow, they start tearing the Mill down tomorrow,” Marigold said. “My pa says he’s five and twenty times worse a landowner than Mr. Baggins. Wanted Master Frodo to come back from Crickhollow quick. But now he’s gone and gotten himself attacked by the Old Forest.”

“No good ever came from living in Buckland,” Peony said. “That’s what Pearl and Pimpernel always say.”

For a moment, Diamond thought to correct her. But they were already of respectable, adult age and little good ever came from correct adults. Her time in Buckland had reminded her. So she just allowed them to go on complaining about the affairs of the land along the Bywater Road.

Before long, they bid her farewell and a good night. They had quite a walk to get home and the rain had finally stopped. As Diamond went to sleep in the inn, she felt her stresses redoubling. With each step towards Michel Delving she felt like the walls were closing in around her. Kind of like the Old Forest, but somehow worse being out in the open of her home.

When at last she reached Michel Delving, clear skies and bright sunshine bathed the town in cheer. Diamond stood overlooking the center of town, where gentlehobbits and hobbitladies bargained over market stalls like three of the most prominent heirs to Shire fortunes hadn’t gone missing weeks ago. She narrowed her eyes.

There it was: the Mayor House, also known as the Town Hole, up on the top of one of the hills on the other side of Michel Delving. Across from it stood the Mathom-house. Diamond always found it funny that hobbits loved their history except when it reminded them of days of adventuring and travel. As she walked through town she passed the Post, half a dozen places to eat, and dozens of hobbits enjoying the early evening.

She didn’t have time to stop and think. If she thought too hard she would just get angry at the way they could live their lives so unbothered. Even if they cared nothing for adventuring, surely the disappearances of the heirs to the Tooks and Brandybucks would raise some alarms.

Diamond stood before the door to the Town Hole. A bound lounged on a little wooden seat out front, chatting with a passerby. When she cleared and throat, they both turned her way. Diamond saw their eyes widen in suspicion at the bow on her back.

“My name is Adamanda North-Took. I would like to speak to Mayor Whitfoot please.”

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the bounder.

“No.”

He shrugged. “Stay here. I can see if the Mayor’s available but there is a way things such as these are done and showing up without an appointment isn’t it, Miss North-Took.”

It took all her strength not to roll her eyes. As he ducked inside the Town Hole, the woman he’d been talking to hurried away. No one wanted to be seen with her. Good. She didn’t want to be seen with any of them, either!

A few minutes later, the bounder returned. He eyed her up and down again but made space for her. “Mayor Whitfoot’s ready for you.”

Diamond stepped inside. It was grand for a hobbit hole, though not as impressive as the Great Smials or Brandy Hall. Rows of bookshelves lined the entrance way, filled with catalogues of histories and legal precedents that never saw the light of day. Paintings with maps of the Shire hung above them.

She took the first opening on the left, as instructed. A large room opened with a window to the town center of Michel Delving. Central to the room stood a large desk, covered in impeccably ordered writing supplies: inks, quills, parchment, and a handful of candles. Behind the desk sat a very fat hobbit: Mayor Will Whitfoot. Or Flourdumpling, as many called him when he was not present.

He smiled at her, gesturing for her to take a seat in front of the desk. All of a sudden Diamond was very conscious of the mud around the bottom of her dress and the weapon on her back. She took the bow off and held it between her knees as she tried to sit as presentable as possible.

“Miss Adamanda North-Took, what can I do for you?”

“Mayor Whitfoot. Thank you, dearly, for seeing me without an appointment on such short notice.” She smiled, willing her hands to stop fidgeting. “I am afraid I bear quite upsetting news from Bree.”

“You were in Bree?”

“Yes, sir. I was. I went looking for Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck,” she said. Hopefully that would save her a bit from the blunder she’d made by admitting that right away. His frown lifted slightly, so she continued on. “I didn’t find them in Bree, and had no desire to go any further. Much too adventurous.”

Diamond wasn’t sure he believed her lie. Doubtless Mayor Whitfoot knew the gossip around the heir to the North-Tooks. But she tried to sell it with a scowl.

“A good choice. It is very unfortunate that they got swept off, just like Mister Bilbo Baggins before them,” he said.

“Then you don’t believe the rumors?”

“That the trees in the Old Forest attacked them?” He couldn’t help but laugh, a very joyful and bubbly sound even for a hobbit. Almost contagious, if it hadn’t been for something altogether not funny. “Of course not! Trees don’t walk, let alone attack a town. No indeed. If Buckland was attack, I’d guess it to be some Big Folk who got too rowdy at the Bridge Inn!”

That was good. That she could work with. At least he saw the danger of Big People attacking hobbits.

“Mayor Whitfoot, I did hear troubling news in Bree about the Big People,” she said. Diamond leaned forward. “I heard them talking. Conspiring, even.”

“About what?”

“Invading the Shire! They were very dangerous. They had weapons, and spoke very condescendingly of us!” She frowned and gestured out the window. “I heard them talking about working with Lotho Sackville-Baggins to buy and sell Pipe Weed. And now Lotho’s gone and-”

“Now, Miss North-Took,” Mayor Whitfoot said, voice hardening. “To be accusing Mr. Sackville-Baggins of conspiring of all things. That is unbecoming of even you!”

Her heart sank. She could see the judgement in his eyes. The one she knew all too well from hobbits of the other three Farthings, especially the more well-to-do families. 

“But, Mayor Whitfoot. I spoke to some of the hobbits of Bywater,” she said, “and they said Mr. Sackville-Baggins has gone and bought up a lot of land, and is demolishing the Mill, and wants to increase profits.”

He hesitated, but then waved her off. “Miss North-Took, I am aware of Mr. Sackville-Baggins’s recent acquisitions. And I know many find him…” As he trailed off, she saw him frown before continuing. “Well, a bit rough around the edges. But he comes from a Respectable family, even if they are not the most well liked.”

Respectable. The word hung in the air like an accusation, even if he hadn’t made one. Diamond straightened up in her seat and held her head high. But she felt the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She would not cry. Not in Michel Delving, not again. 

“I trust that he will continue to be so.”

“Very well, Mayor Whitfoot.” Gathering herself, Diamond stood from the chair. She winced as it squeaked against the wood floor. “I thank you for your time. Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Miss North-Took.”

She turned, leaving without another word. Diamond spoke to no one on her way out of town. Even as evening turned to twilight and the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, she continued on. The dark and the cold were preferable to that stuffy town. She didn’t even mind when a dusting of snow began to fall. 

It was time to go home. She missed the Northfarthing, and she missed her sister. Perhaps Peridosia would have some idea of what to do. She felt anger bubbling up in her stomach again. If Pippin was going to leave her at home while he went off adventuring, leaving her to fail at saving the Shire, then she would have to find someone else who was better at thinking than her.