COMPLETE THE STORY: The Hobbit Estate

[Eledhwen]

The writer's guild is just chatting, so I thought I'd start something. This is a modern-day story of a well-kept secret, that Hobbits really exist and are living in a secluded woods on a private country estate in Oxfordshire. What will its new owner do when he discovers their existence? Here goes:
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The doctor's face was grave as he leaned over the old man struggling for breath. "Can you hear me, old boy?" he asked, not really expecting a response. An old retainer crept in and stood near the great four-poster bed, cleared his throat and spoke; "Begging your pardon, doctor; we have news." The doctor looked up just as the family solicitor strode into the room, flush-faced, waving a plastic document wallet.

"We've found Lord Hemmington's heir!" he exclaimed. "Young man, early twenties. Works in the City."

The doctor bent close to the old man's ear. "Did you hear that, Walter? You have an heir; they've found him!"

Walter stirred and opened his eyes. He looked blankly at the doctor, then turned to his retainer, who knew by instinct and years of service that Lord Hemmington wanted to speak to him. He moved quickly to the old man's side.

In a last rally of strength, the old man grabbed his retainer's collar and pulled him close. "Peterson, I'm dying and I don't know this heir of mine. You know what to do. The secret....". Exhausted, the old man slumped back onto his pillow. He looked again at Peterson. "Don't let them down!"

"I won't, m'lord. I won't."

Satisfied, Lord Hemmington, the fourteenth Earl of Beckley, breathed his last.

"What was all that about?" asked the doctor.

"Ramblings of a dying man, sir." answered Peterson.

The doctor recorded the death and left. Peterson turned to the solicitor. "When can he get here?" he asked.

"He's on his way now. A bit in shock, I think. He was brought up by foster parents and knew nothing of his, er, noble background. I suppose he's the new Lord Hemmington now."

"That's right, sir" answered Peterson. "But don't you worry about anything. I'll see he's ok".

[Nenya Evenstar]

OOC: Please forgive me for taking such a long time to post in here - it really is a wonderful idea.

The solicitor nodded and left the room. Peterson was left with the deceased Lord Hemmington. He stared at the corpse with grief plainly written accross his face, and thought of the last words his Lord had spoken.

"Don't let them down!" the echo raced through Peterson's mind as he reflected on the words. Let them down? Never! It would not happen and he, Peterson, would see to that. They would be greived and worried to hear the news, but they must hear it soon before too much change happened. A knock on the door brought Peterson out of his reverie, and the plump face and white cap of a house maid poked into the door.

"Peterson," she said quietly, "you may want to come out now. We should leave the deceased for a time." Her voice was greived and sad, but she spoke urgently and Peterson understood. With a sigh he got up and left the room. So many memories, such a wonderful man. The maid looked up at him over her cheeks, "The new Lord will soon be here," she said, "and he will not know what to do. I suggest that you take him into your hands for the time being as you were the closest to Lord Hemmington."

Peterson nodded. "I will do that." His mind was still not functioning, and it was clouded with sadness. "Alas! What a sad hour!" he cried, his voice cracking and grief overcoming him. He and the maid walked slowly down the hall in silence, letting the quiet bring them whatever comfort it could.

[Dragon]

The crunching of gravel outside, and a resounding series of knocks on the oldfashioned door brought Peterson out of his daze, and back to reality. Katherine, one of the older house maids, bustled past to answer the door, but he shooed her away. He wanted to be the first to see this "heir," and make sure that he was not confused by the nonconformance of the servants, who tended to gather at the sight of an unfamiliar visitor to the estate.
Careful not to frighten the newcomer, peterson slowly opened the 10 foot tall rosewood door. The sweet spring air, though replenishing, brought little consolation, but plenty of happy memories dulled by the pain of death. Peterson could not focus on facial features, for the tears in his eyes, so he looked instead to the trees in a nearby field which he did not have to see, for he knew them so well from years past.
"Come in, we have much to speak about."

[Nenya Evenstar]

The young man walked into the large old-fashioned entryway slowly and looked around him. Peterson made an effort to clear his eyes and upon doing so surveyed the new heir. The boy was strongly and muscularly built yet thin; he had reddish-brown hair, flashing black eyes, and a well-featured face. He had the very look of someone who knew how to carry himself in situations like this, but Peterson thought he sensed something... perhaps an incredulity about the boy, for a boy he was in Peterson's eyes.

"Welcome to Hemmington Estate!" Peterson told the boy, extending his right hand and trying to sound cheerful.

The boy only nodded and shook the offered hand looking around him as though trying to see every nook of the grand place in the first moment.

The large oak door closed with a crash leaving the two individuals staring at each other as though trying to figure each other out.

[Dragon]

Eledhwen, this really is a great idea, but I'm afriad to post another segment, or it might just be us three going back and forth. By the way, beautiful writing, both of you.

[Eöl]

Ok, I will try my hand. I'm a new member by the way so hi everyone.

Peterson led the boy upstairs to the master bedroom. "This will be your bedroom, if you would like. Otherwise there are plenty more rooms to choose from." He then asked the boy in a questioning voice "By the way, what is your name? I don't think I have got it yet." "My name is James."

[Nenya Evenstar]

Dragon, don't worry about us going back and forth excessively - at least the story will be going, and anyway, we've got another person! Welcome Celebrien! :) And thanks for the compliment Dragon - I would say the same of your wonderful writing!


"James," said the young heir, "James Harlton."

The difference in last names startled Peterson. For some reason he had been expecting the boy to have the same last name as the late heir. "Do you know how you were related to the late Hemmingway?" Might as well kill the boar in one shot.

"Yes," the boy still seemed uncomfortable. "The man who informed me of my noble background said that my real mother was the Lord Hemmingway's sister. She died when I was only two and suposedly had no contact with my royal relatives, hence leading to their not knowing of my exsitence. I never knew my father. I was brought up by foster parents all my life, and they have become to me as real parents. I had no idea that I had other living relatives, much less relatives of this stature." He looked around himself at the rich surroundings of the master bedroom; the brown velvet drapes, the mahagony furniture, the large four poster bed, the rich atmosphere of charm and wealth. It took his breath away.

"Ahhh... I see!" but Peterson was not quite finished yet. "So you must have taken on your foster parents last name?"

That got an inquisitive look. "Yes, as a matter of fact I did," James explained, "I was not even told of my real parents until a few years ago, a fact about which I am none too pleased."

"You do know that your real mother's maiden name was Hemmingway and that your real father's name was Vardune?"

"I am aware of that now," the young man did not seem too disposed to talk of this anymore. Peterson sensed something almost like anger when the man talked about his past. Or perhaps it was bitterness?

[Dragon]

ok then nenya, here goes:

peterson gave james a complete tour of the house. Even the servants quarters seemed lavish compared to the cramped housing in the city.
"don't be afraid to get too aquainted with the kitchen, the servants will not be angry to find you helping yourself to lunch or perhaps dinner," he warned as they ventured through it. By the time peterson had shown off all the extravagant rooms in the country dwelling, night had crept into the sky, scattering star-colored gems across it to better see the pathways in the dark.

[Nob Boffin]

I was lurking through this forum when I chanced upon this thread, after I read it I registered, so as to post on it. If it is inappropriate send me a PM, and let me know.
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"Will you take your dinner in the dining room sir," asked Peterson as the tour concluded.

"Do you mean that huge room with the massive sideboards, I think not. Is there a smaller scale place I can eat in, that I could feel a bit less overwhelmed." As the young man said this he looked around and moved his arm in a gesture of helplessnes.

"There is the breakfast room, it is somewhat more intimate, and perhaps more to your liking," answered the old retainer as he looked intently at his new employer.

While they are having this debate the plump housemaid comes up to them, and waits patiently for a lull in the conversation.When her chance appears the maid says,"Begging your pardon Mr Peterson, there is someone outside the kitchen door that requires your attention, I could attend to the new Earl's dinner if you like, sir." She raises her eyebrows in question as she says this.

"Yes I had forgotten that there was something I had to attend to, show the Earl to his room to tidy up and dress for dinner and set the meal in the breakfast room. I will return in time to serve." Then turning to James, Peterson says," I will take care of this matter and return, if there are any questions, and I am sure some may come to mind, any of the servants will be happy to answer them for you, now if you will excuse me," and Peterson turns and leaves at a surprising pace considering his age.

"If you would come this way sir I will show you to your room," and with no further ceremony the maid walks off towards the stairs.

[Nenya Evenstar]

You are more than welcome to join for such a reason, Nob! Welcome!:)
BTW, I have been picturing this as being in the 1800's for some reason... so that's how I made parts of this post - if anyone wants me to change that and make it more "modern" please tell me and I will.


Peterson ran to the kitchen and opened the little side door which led out of the house and onto a walkway which went towards the carriage house. The air was crisp and chilly, the stars were numerous, and the walkway was lightly dusted with the colored leaves of Autumn.

"Hello?" Peterson whispered. No one could be seen.

Suddenly from under one of the tall shrubs that lined the path stepped what appeared to be a little man no more than four feet high, if even that. His entrance was so quiet that Peterson jumped at the sound of his voice, "I'm here," the little man said.

Peterson wheeled around on both heels, "Can't you be a little less inconspicuous? I mean... make a little noise at least! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The little man grinned, "Well, you couldn't have possibly made any more noise than you did running through the kitchen... everyone for miles around must have heard you!" He shook his head.

Peterson looked around at the moonlit walk towards the carriage house, "No one saw you come this way, did they?" he asked hurriedly.

"No, no, no!" the little man shook his head, "How could you even suggest it? We Hobbits pride ourselves in our stealth... no one saw me - trust me!"

"I should hope not! You shouldn't have come all this way by yourself!" Peterson scolded.

"I couldn't wait... I heard..." the Hobbit stopped unable to continue.

[Nob Boffin]

As Peterson looked at the Hobbit, the diminutive fellow's eyes seemed to mist over somewhat, as he was finding it hard to speak.

"You do not have to say it Lord Hemmington has passed away. Things are different now, but hopefuly not bad," said Peterson, with a calming voice.

" It may seem selfish," began Will, "but my greatest concern is what will happen to us, us wee folk."

"I hope, no, I believe that things are going to come out alright in the end," answered the butler.

"How will they be alright," asked the Hobbit with a puzzled and somewhat nervous expression?

"I don't know, it just will," replied Peterson," and now you must get back home and do not worry for now, things are alright for the time being."

" Thank you Mr Peterson, I will get myself home, and await what news, you will send," said Will.

" John Gardiner will bring you news when I have some, but please stay away from the house for the next few days, there will be all sorts of comings and goings, and all manner of strange people, until after the funeral." Then Peterson patted the little fellow on the shoulder, and he was gone as quick as he had come.

"Then looking back toward the house Peterson says half to himself," and now to the new master," and he walked back through the kitchen garden te the servant's entrance and went back inside.

[Nenya Evenstar]

James was found eating his dinner in the large cheery kitchen quite content with his new surroundings. Already it seemed that he was adapting himself to the people and wealth around him, and for that Peterson was glad. At least he would not need a lesson about everything!
After bidding the servants to see to it that the new Master got proper treatment his first night at the Estate, Peterson found some time to flee into the barn and curl up in his favorite corner in the attic where there were some un-inhabited living quarters. Lighting his candle and wick grabbed hastily from the kitchen, Peterson made his way up a short flight of rickedy stairs into the tight little sitting room of the attic. There was not very much furniture - only one little chair stuck far away into the corner of the room away from the darkened doorways of the tiny kitchen and bedroom. It was in this chair that Peterson sat to try and collect his overworked mind and bewildered thoughts. His mind touched first on the things nearest to his heart, and he thought about his deceased Master, but thoughts such as those were uncomfortable in a deserted barn in the dark late at night even for a man who has seen many years, so Peterson skipped onto other matters rather quickly. He thought of his conversation with the little Hobbit just minutes ago, and wondered how far the new Master of Hemmingway Estate could be trusted. Would it be safe to tell him the secret? Or should he attempt to find a different way? What was the new Master like? Would he simply wish to make a show out of the little men? At this point in time Peterson at least was sure that it was not safe to tell him - not yet anyway. He would have to test the waters first.

[Eledhwen]

The New Earl retired early that night. What an exhausting day! Yesterday he had been a clerk in the city. He had been in the middle of a seemingly endless mass of accounts when he was called into the bursar's office to meet the dour man who was to change his life forever - a solicitor's clerk telling him he was a nobleman, no less!

He wandered to the slightly open leaded window and lazily scanned the darkening evening landscape. A vast manicured garden, its last greens fading into moonlight, ending at a tangled woodland, mainly of mixed conifers and oak. "What's that?" He peered long at the woods, for a small flickering light seemed to be moving in them.

"Gypsies or vagrants, I expect." He muttered to himself; "No wonder, with that tangled mass. I must speak to Peterson about getting it tidied up."

[I don't want to steer this story, Nenya, but I'd like it to be late 19th century, so the Red Book can be discovered and (maybe) handed to a small boy from South Africa

[Eledhwen]

Doctor (present at the old Earl's death)

Walter, the Lord Hemmington, 14th Earl of Beckley (deceased 1st post)

Peterson - Old Retainer (Butler?)

Solicitor

Solicitor's Clerk - Elwood Gramby

first House Maid (name?)

Katherine - Older House Maid

James Harlton, 15th Earl of Beckley, son of 14th Earl's sister, lady Hemmington and the Honorable Terence Vardune who eloped and are both deceased, raised by Mr and Mrs Harlton (made a bit up here).

Will (a Hobbit)

John Gardiner

The household will have had a cook, a valet and other serving staff.

[Eledhwen]

The solicitor's clerk, one Elwood Gramby, added some coals to the fire to warm his office. He slumped back into his chair and picked up the file in front of him, reading it for the ninth time. "I'll get round him. The days of nobility are over. Guests, that's what that place needs. Make it like a nice hotel, but not calling it that, of course. Make 'em feel special."

Elwood's father had worked on the Beckley Estate; he had been Peterson's assistant, but had been dismissed when caught red-handed with a selection of small but valuable antiques belonging to the Estate. Some paperwork had also gone missing, but that could not be traced to Gramby. He was lucky to receive no greater punishment than to lose his job, but his son still bore great resentment against Peterson and the Earl, choosing instead to believe his father's lies. It looked like the Estate would be disbanded until James Harlton arrived. Elwood would have to make himself into James' friend, but he'd have to do something about Peterson first.

Tipping his chair back, he smiled to himself secretly.

[Nob Boffin]

The following morning James Harlton awoke early, strange but he had not slept very well, it was too quiet in the country, and he was used to the noise and bustle of London. The sun was well up and so the new Earl elected to join it.

First things, first what to wear today, and while he pondered this concept, there was a knock at the door and Peterson called out softly, "Mi Lord are you up and stirring?"

"Yes, I am and I could use your assistance," answered young James as he stood in his dressing room.

"How may I be of service sir," asked Peterson as he walked into the room.

"What would you suggest I wear on my first day in the country," asked James.

"Did you bring a mourning suit when you came from London, sir," asked the butler.

" Yes I did but why, ohh of course, I forgot, is the funeral today?"

"Yes it is sir, may I suggest you breakfast in your room, and then a bath and into the appropriate dress for the occasion," said Peterson in a kindly but capable manner, much the way an old retainer would talk to a poor relation come to visit.

"Very well you probably know best, I would like only a light breakfast, as I did not sleep well. By the bye Peterson who would be out wondering around after eleven o'clock with a, oh I don't know, a child's lantern of some sort, gypsies perhaps?"

The butler stood silent as if framing his answer, which is exactly what he was doing," I suspect you saw Gardiner out checking for foxes, the cook gets anxious about her live poultry."

"I see" said James in a tone that seemed to indicate that in fact he did not see at all.

"One other thing sir, the solicitor Mr Gramby will be down today as well for the funeral, and he wants to arrive somewhat early to conduct some business or other with you,"says Peterson just as he is about to leave.

[Eledhwen]

"Yes, I met Gramby. He's the Solicitor's clerk isn't he? I wonder what he wants." answered James. "Oh, and Peterson?"

Peterson paused for his Lord's command. "Yes sir?"

James continued: "I should like to take a walk through the woods tomorrow. Sort me out some suitable attire, would you?"

Peterson looked troubled. "Of course, sir." he answered, bowed, and left.

Mrs Nythe, the cook, was busy with breakfast as Peterson entered the kitchen. "His Lordship up yet? You alright Mr Peterson? You look well troubled, so you do."

Peterson slumped into a chair "I am troubled, cook. His Lorship wants a walk in the woods - tomorrow!."

Cook stopped stirring some porridge and looked at Peterson "Well, it would have to happen sooner or later. What are you going to do?"

Peterson sighed. "Organise a mourning breakfast. I'll deal with tomorrow when it comes. I've got Gramby to worry about before then."

Mrs Nythe frowned; "What's he got to do with anything? Nasty piece of work!"

"My thoughts exactly, cook, my thoughts exactly!"

[Nob Boffin]

With the hearty breakfast, that cook has prepared, Peterson returns to the new master's room." There you are sir, a fine hearty country breakfast."Peterson said this with a lot more self assurance than he felt at that point.

"Thank you Peterson, you really very competant," says James cheerfully.

"Thank you sir," says Peterson out loud, and then to himself," You don't know the half of it mate."

"What time will that oily fellow from the soliciter, be arriving, and how should I greet him?" says the young man as he tucks in to his breakfast.

Peterson raises an eyebrow, without realizing it and says to himself, "he is already beginning to trust me, that is good news," and then out loud" he will be arriving if all goes according to his telegraph, on the 9:39 this morning, which means he should be here by 10:00 or so"

"With regards to how to greet him I would not, presume to tell your lordship what to do, however I might suggest that you treat him with mild disdain lest he should try to direct you some way or other. You are the lord now, or will be when her majesty acknowledges you, and you should, I feel remain independent of such as Mr Gramby. I have heard terrible stories about people being denied their birhtright by lawyers and such." Peterson paused to see how James would take this advice.

"The very thing," replied James, " treat like the underfootman's wayward son."

To himself Peterson says," right again, young sir," and outloud "that will I think suffice sir, though there is never a reason to be rude to anyone."

" Very well Peterson I will dress, and harden my resolve to this soliciter chap, and treat with him accordingly."

"Very good sir," and as Peterson closes the door behind him, he swiles as he walks down the hall, and says quietly, " that went rather better than expected."

.......................................

On the express from London Mr Gramby contemplates life's twist's and turns and the concepts of retribution amd nemisis.

[Eledhwen]

James Harlton felt like a stranger at his late uncle's funeral; indeed he was a stranger. There was no-one there he had known more than a few days. He felt for Peterson, who grieved more than anyone for the late Earl, but had to spend his time serving the gathered crowd.

Gramby arrived early as promised. He was warm and cheerful, which was a relief to James, but Peterson was disturbed; Gramby was usually so dour and mournful, yet here he was for a funeral behaving like it was Christmas. "He's weedling his way into the young master's trust. I'd better watch him, and close!" he thought.

After an interminable afternoon of being introduced to a confusing host of strangers dressed in black, none of whose names James ever hoped to remember, it was time to retire for bed. "What an exhausting day" he thought as he stood once again before the window.

It was a clear night and the moon shone full across the estate's gardens, glinting in its ornamental pools. He was about to turn away when he saw a small silhouette moving behind one of the pools. "Fox?" he wondered. If it was, it was on its hind legs. A child? surely not. The whole estate was surrounded by what James thought to be unnecessarily high walls. Access was through a huge wrought iron gate topped with perilous spear-shaped prongs. A determined poacher would be put off, let alone a child. The silhouette had disappeared into the shadows.

Chapter 2 - The Woods

Next morning, the sun was shining as James leaped out of bed. Peterson was surprised to find him up and dressed in the walking clothes he had laid out the night before.

"Morning Peterson! I'll have breakfast in the kitchen if that's alright with Mrs Nythe. I'd like to make an early start for the woods in case the weather turns."

"Very good, sir!" Peterson nodded and left. "Time for a chat with Gardiner - and Will Proudfoot too." he thought, somewhat grimly. How would the new Earl take it, he wondered?

[Nob Boffin]

James is enjoying his breakfast very much indeed, "I shall have to walk for hours to wear off this fine meal Mrs Nythe."

"Thank you sir it is so good to see one enjoy their food, his lordship, your late uncle was unable to eat much of anything for the longest time, but he has gone to a better place I will warrant." After saying this the cook resumed her duties, which were somewhat more than she had been used to of late.

" If it please you sir John Gardiner will show you about, just so you can get your bearings," says Peterson as he enters the dining nook off the kitchen, and then he adds," do you intend to take all your meals in here sir?

"I suppose I might, that dining room seats twenty at least, and is larger than my entire flat in London," says James," have I met this John Gardiner, and does he garden."

"Yes sir last evening after the guests had departed, and actually Mr Gardiner is in fact our gamekeeper, the gardener is named Fletcher, and you will seldom see him about he is getting on in years."Peterson fusses over the table as he waits for James to finish, he wants to ask about the conversation yesterday with Gramby but cannot find a suitable entrance to bring it up.

"Well I am ready for a ramble,"says James as he gets up from the table, with a certain gusto," where is this gardiner who doesn't garden I would like very much to be off, on an exploratory mission."

Stepping out the back door off the pantry, into the walled garden where Mrs Nythe gets her herbs and vegetables from James takes a sharp intake of air,"This is the first time I have been outside since I got here, and it is high time too."

He takes about three or four steps, and without any warning John Gardiner is beside him, though James can not tell where he came from, "you get around rather quiet like , don't you," says the young Earl in surprise.

"It doesn't pay to have a noisy gamekeeper about the place, it would be an occupational liability.Shall we go sir and I will show you the principal paths and points of interest." With that the gamekeeper who like Peterson seems a lot more spry than his age would suggest.

They go out the gate to the walled garden, and into the estate proper, "perhaps,we could go over toward those treees," says James questioningly.

"Whatever for sir, there is little there but leaf litter and toadstools," answers Gardiner hurriedly.

"I was wondering what lay beyond the woods, you will probaly think I am a lunatic, but I could have sworn I saw a child with a lamp moving in the trees last night." After he says this james looks at Gardiner to see how he reacts.

Gardiner chuckles,'given the average age of the staff in this place,sir, a child is the last thing I should think you would see."

"Be that as it may, I would like to start there, with or without you," says James firmly, as Gardiner raises his cap and scratches his head.

"If that is where you will go then that is where we will go," and replacing his cap, Gardiner leads James in the general direction of the trees.
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I see you lurking out there jump in and contribute to the story, no one will mind one bit.

[Eledhwen]

The sun had risen quite high in the sky by the time they reached the woods, and its rays penetrated the canopy so that a dappled light played on the undergrowth.

James stood silently for a moment, as if studying a great work of art. "It's really quite beautiful and very peaceful here" he whispered finally. "And look! There's a path."

"A fox run, I'm sure sir. Shall we go this way?" John made to pull James' arm but thought better of it.

"No, I want to follow the path, or fox run if you will. I want to see where it leads. I've never seen a fox hole." James started out along the narrow path.

John looked anxiously back towards the house. Peterson was standing at the head of the formal garden peering towards them against the sunlight. John took out his handkerchief and waved a pre-arranged signal. "Coming sir!" he called after James, who was now some way ahead.

James was fit for a city dweller, and John had a struggle to catch him up along the narrow twisty path, though he knew it was unnecessary for James could go no further than the bourne. John arrived at the edge of the fast-flowing water where James stood scratching his head under his cap. "Will you look at that? I never knew foxes could swim. The path just ends at the water's edge".

Another voice from behind startled him. "You need to call the ferryman." James whirled round. It was Peterson.

"What? Oh it's you Peterson. What are you... What do you mean?" Without another word, Peterson took a small whistle out of his pocket and blew. There was a rustling in the undergrowth across the river. "Coming!" shouted a small voice.

"Who's that? Who's over there?" James now felt like the stooge in some game. "Gardiner can whistle with his fingers. I never could." answered Peterson. James watched silently as a rope was raised from under the waterline and a flat-bottomed boat appeared from a hiding place across the river.

"Too fast for oars or a punt." said John, nonchalantly, as James looked from Peterson to Gardiner, then back at the boat. His jaw dropped as he saw two small figures pulling the boat along the rope to the near side of the river.

[Nenya Evenstar]

"What is..." James stopped mid-sentence. He could see the figures clearly now, though his mind did not want to believe what he saw. Two little men sat in the boat, one behind the other. Men was not even the right word, for there was something about the two that spoke of a difference to the Race of Man, but James could not put a finger on what it was. They were so small! The young Earl strained his eyes to try and get a better view of the little mens' legs so that he could estimate their height, but he couldn't see well enough. So he contented himself with studying what he could see. Both had dark brown curly hair, unnaturally jolly faces with beaming cheeks looking prone to laughter, and what appeared to be rather round stomachs. James's mouth still hung open, but he did not even heed it - he was far too puzzled.

The other two men studied the James. His reaction here was important, and if a good first impression was not made, then no one could tell what the outcome would be. This was the life-long secret of Hemmington Estate, and one that needed to continue being kept. Just at that moment the little boat reached the bank in front of an astonished James, who was now stooping over the water looking altogether dazed.

"Good day, Sir!" said one of the little men quaintly jumping out of the boat. The other little man did the same, and then they both bowed together. It was at that moment that James noticed their feet - they were hairy! All thoughts about height left the Earl's mind, and he simply stared, mouth wide open.

[Nob Boffin]

The new earl continued to stare, somewhat at a loss for words, here before him stood incarnate the sort of thing he had read in fairy stories, or been read to, when he was a child. It was as if he was in the middle of a dream of incredible realism the like of which he had never eperienced.

Looking at Peterson, James says " ar-ar-are these two er fellows tenants?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes sir they are," answers Peterson carefully, still trying to gauge the reaction of the young Earl.

"Well that's nice," says the larger of the two Hobbits," tenants, we are rather more than that, I would say."

His gaze returning to the small fellows before him, looking as if he is in a state of shock because the apparitions before him speak and are therefore real.

"Hold your tongue Tom you will get his lordship all in a state, and we will end up late for second breakfast," says the other Hobbit," and seeing as everyone is so tongue tied, allow me to introduce myself, and my abrupt cousin," here Will looks at the other Hobbit who looks as if he is going to say something, but thinks better of it.

"My name is Will Longbottom, and my rude cousin is Tom Sallowfoot, we are here to welcome your lordship to the estate and to ask if you would care to come to second breakfast, and if that goes well then you can linger in the kitchen,I understand you like eating in the kitchen, and perhaps take luncheon with us. We can then discuss matters of mutual interest. May your digestion be ever amiable," and so saying the Hobbit bows to James.

"I would guess ," says the Earl slowly as if he is trying to get his wits about him," that it would be rude to refuse, so yes I will take, second breakfast, is that what you called it?"

"Indeed we did sir," answers Tom," and if you just want to hop onto the ferry we will get underway, will you join us Mr Peterson, John?"

Peterson beginning to feel a bit more at ease with the situation, answers," I think not today Tom but I am sure John Gardiner will be happy to come along."

"Indeed I would, master Tom, " replies John enthusiastically.

Still feeling somewhat uneasy James gets on the ferry behind John Gardiner and the two Hobbits.

"See Tom a little bit of manners, a cheery disposition, that's what is wanted,"says Will as he pulls on the rope to get the raft in motion.
________________________________________

Miles away in London Mr Gramby is sipping a cup of tea as he examines the probate documents, and smiles to himself.

[Nenya Evenstar]

The boat glided lazily across the waters as the Hobbits pulled it using their stout arms. James looked like he was in a trance, not knowing what to do or say, and unsure of how to act around these creatures - whatever they were. John was merely enjoying the feel of rushing water underneath him, and thanking his lucky stars that things were going so well.

With one last pull Tom heaved the boat up to the awaiting shore. "Well, here we are!" He said hopping out of the boat onto the green grass. "Welcome, my Lord!"

James climbed slowly out of the boat followed by Will and John. "Now, if you'll follow me," Will said walking up a path and over the lip of a small hill. James followed drawn after the curious little fellow. Up the little path his feet took him and to the lip, and he was opened up to a world out of the past - a world that was not known to exist and should logically not have existed, and yet there it was right before his eyes. A little valley opened up before the Earl's feet filled with sloping tussocks and hilly vales still green from the past summer though accented with the auburn colors of Autumn. The path extended down the other side of the hill, into the open valley, and on over a wooden footbridge which crossed a bubbling brook laughing in the sunshine. The path wound on between the sloping hills, and what was this? The faces of the hills had what appeared to be doors peering out of them like so many faces in a row all painted different colors: red, green, yellow, blue. Bright and cheery they looked, and the little brass knobs in the middle only confirmed their doorishness. Out of the tops of the hills could be glimpsed chimneys with whiffs of smoke coming out and curling up into the air, and upon the sides of other hills could be seen perfectly round windows with four panes each. Clothes lines hung outside the little doors, gardens filled with late-coming flowers filled the air with the lazy scent of a summer long past, tidy rows of vegetables in carefully cultivated earth spoke of prosperity and a love for food, and golden-yellow fields of growing things extended in all directions making the vale a place of green-golden prosperity. Peace seemed to surround the hilly countryside in a never ending and protective vale, and the path which finally ended its course in a great wide open field, grass cut short and stubby, seemed to speak of great things and forgetfulness as though one who chanced on its way would suddenly be swept onto its course and into things never dreamed of before. And there! What was that? There in the fields, there in the garden, there smoking a pipe under a spreading tree were little people exactly like Will and Tom, both male and female, going about their daily activities with a bustle and love for activity. The little round doors opened and children ran out laughing and playing into the sunshine, mothers scolded, fathers teased, and everyone laughed and forgot it all.

"Who are they?" James asked quietly.

[Eledhwen]

"We call ourselves 'Hobbits', if you please, sir." answered Tom. We once had lands which covered all of what you now call Oxfordshire and much besides, under the protection of the King. This valley is all we have now, and that thanks to the Earls of Beckley. They've kept us hidden here, even before they got called Earls, and there's been fourteen of them.

"Yes, I'm the fifteenth." said James, dreamily, for he was still gazing out across the wonderful, living faerie land before him. A small tributary to the river they crossed wound its way through the valley. Hobbit children were leaning over an arched stone bridge, dropping sticks in to the water on the upstream side, and running across to watch them emerge from under the bridge. Suddenly, James frowned.

"This secret must remain. The world of men would swallow this place up for their own amusement, not realising what a treasure they were destroying until the deed was done." He turned to John: "How many people know about this place?"

"The staff all know, sir, but the secret's never gone beyond the walls of the Estate. We never mention it outside, even to one another, lest we be overheard."

"How, then" asked James, "do you choose such staff? It seems to me that with one small error of judgement this valley would have been laid bare to the world."

John thought before he answered: "They are here a year, normally, before we let them in on it. If they show any sign of indiscretion, greed or malice before then, Peterson finds them another post away from the Estate. We had, begging your pardon sir, planned to do likewise with your good self, keeping you away that is; but we couldn't stop you surveying what's yours, now, could we?"

"Yours by the Laws of men, at any rate." said Will. "But there's no denying that if this land was deeded to anyone but the Hemmingtons, then we would have been long gone. But all this talk has made me hungry. Daisy will have cooked second breakfast by now; would you care to follow me?"

Will and Tom jogged along the narrow path towards a large round red-painted door. The smell of bacon grew more enticing the closer they got.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Will reached the door first and swung it open with a cheery cry of, "Welcome to my home, my Lord!" James had to duck in order to fit through the little doorway, but he was able to straighten up as soon as he had stepped through for the entryway had a high ceiling to accommodate people of his own stature.

"Thank you!" James replied and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a little room the very atmosphere of which emanated cheeriness and glee. A fire was burning merrily in a little hearth and speaking of warm things, a braided rug was on the floor at his feet, and two well-warn sofas were on either side of the fireplace. What caught the young Earl's eye, however, was the fact that everything seemed to be done in curves instead of lines. The windows were round, the pictures were round, the door was round, even the furniture had a curvaceous feel about it. Even more odd than the curves was the fact that everything seemed to be out of another century, for it was all old-fashioned and carried no taint of modern life.

At that moment a rosy and round little hobbit dame came into the room with flour on her hands and an apron around her waist. "Why you must be the new Earl!" She said clapping her hands together regardless of the cloud of flour which burst up at every hit. "I am Daisy Longbottom, wife of good ol' Will here." She grinned.

"Nice to meet you, Daisy!" Said James stooping down to shake her floured hand as such an action was the only thing he could think of to do. He could feel John's eyes boring into his back and new exactly what the man was thinking. He felt that he had to make a good impression here.

"Come, come!" Daisy's voice broke through his thoughts. "We must get you to the kitchen - you must be starving! Will here has been waiting patiently for his second breakfast ever since nine-o'-clock this morning!" She bustled to the door and peered out. "Patty! Opal!" She called. "Time to come inside for a bit!" And turning around without skipping a beat she said, "Follow me now, this way, this way - oh! And watch your head!" James noticed a little delighted smirk on Will's face, but did not have time to ponder it long, for at that moment the door swung open and in tumbled two rosy hobbit-lasses. Thus it was that James began his first eventful meal in the house of Will Longbottom with his happy wife, two rosy delightful daughters, and John Gardiner.

[Eledhwen]

James, John and the Longbottom family were tucking in to their breakfasts; for a long while they were getting on with the business of eating rather than talking. James had to concentrate - the cutlery was very small, and more than once he managed to dip his knuckes in his egg yolk while trying to cut his bacon. He was leaning back in his seat, supping a cup of tea, when he finally spoke: "So, tell me Will, What do you call this place?

Will wiped his mouth with a napkin and answered: "This here's called The Farthing. Over yonder up the high road is Myrtle Top, which leads back round to The Delving and on down to The Ford, further downstream. But if you take the right fork, you enter Lower Farthing, then further down is Woody End, and if you keep on going along the water's edge, you reach The Fords again by the lower route. That's about it really. The forest all around is much smaller than it used to be, but when it fell to the first Earl of Beckley's ancestors they walled the whole forest about and encouraged thorny undergrowth around its edges to keep the men out."

"So, how long have they ... I mean my family ... known about, er, you, that is, the Hobbits?"

"Why, they've always known!" answered Will. "Many ages ago, the Beckleys had an ancestor who promised protection to the Hobbits. That promise they still keep, though kingdoms have come and gone, and even The old Shire itself was taken. This forest which surrounds us is no ordinary forest. It's more friendly than it once was, but its master still lives within it. There's a road branches off between Woody End and the Fords back into the forest to his house, though it's unwise to travel that way lightly. It was the forest's master who told the trees to move back so we could have this place."

James frowned. "Who is he, this forest master? Is this land not mine?"

Will took his pipe out, took a brand from the fire and started to light it, until he caught Daisy's disapproving glance and set it aside again. "Well, yes and no, my Lord." he continued, "The forest is older than anyone knows, and so is old Tom, its master. Older than your family line, no doubt!"

[Nenya Evenstar]

James shivered. He could feel goosebumps covering his arms and a cold chill running up his spine. What an eerie sound this Tom had! He ordered the forest to move and it moved? "I don't understand!" James managed. "This Tom... he's older than anyone knows - but that isn't possible! And my family line extends back for generations! Surely this man cannot have lived for so many years."

Will shook his head. "That is where you are going wrong. You see, Tom (Tom Bombadil his full name is) is. That's all. He simply is. We don't know much about him but that he has been around for ages and ages. He supposedly has some beauty living with him... Goldberry I've heard tell her name is. But we tend to stay clear of him - he's tricky. But we owe him a lot, that's for sure! If it weren't for him I'd bet this land would already be overrun with machines!" Will grimaced.

James sat silently for a moment. "Tell me, John," he began, "have any of my ancestors had any run-ins with the man?"

John shook his head. "No, he tends to avoid us, I believe. However, we do know that he is there for everyone can see his footpaths plain as day. Also, the hedges around this property are well-kept though we do not touch them. It's as though some power is out there working for the good of the Hobbits."

"Yes," Daisy stuck in, "and don't you be forgettin' that he's not a man! At least... I don't know. He can't be a man even though he looks like one. It's all very confusing, really!"

Will smiled at her. "Yes, that's a fact!" he said. "This here Tom's a regular good chap and keeps us Hobbits protected and out o' harm's way. But who he is I really don't care! Give me a good plot of land, a bit o' the South Farthing Leaf (though indeed it doesn't come from there anymore), and a wonderful family and I'm content! Leave these other mysterious creatures out of it and I'll be happy!"

"I would like to meet this man," said James suddenly. Everyone at the table seemed uncomfortable at the remark.

"Ahhh... gosh, My Lord!" Will began. "I don't know if he'd be very hospitable! The last time I believe he was ever uncommonly hospitable was many, many ages ago during some great war, I believe. And then it was for some great cause that I forget. You won't catch him very easily, I'm afraid - he tends to keep to himself. Sure, we see him now and then, but we choose to leave him alone. He's too unpredictable."

[Eledhwen]

A man with a name like Tom Bombadil can't be that frightening, surely! Is there no-one who can lead me to him? asked James

"Well," answered Will, slowly "There is old farmer Maggott. I don't believe he's ever spoken with old Tom, nor his father, nor even his grandfather for that matter.."

"Oh, do get on with it, Will" said Daisy who was bringing more eggs and toast to the table "The food will go cold at this rate!".

"Sorry Daisy. Where was I? Oh yes, old Maggott. It was many generations back, in the Great Years, that Old Tom Bombadill used to row downriver to chinwag with farmer Maggott; and when he passed on, Tom still visited with his sons and their sons for some few generations. I don't rightly know when it stopped, or even if it did, but there's always been a Maggott at the farm."

James and John were tucking in to more breakfast and chatting about the old days in "The Shire", as the Hobbits called their hidden valley; "Not the real Shire of old, you understand sir, that's gone" cautioned Will, "But if it pleases you, I have a map of hereabouts." Will reached into a cupboard and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. He laid it out on the table and everyone crowded round to study it. They sat, pointing and discussing the detail when the sun began to beam in through the small round window into James' face. He took out his pocket watch and checked the time.

James leapt up, hitting his head on a beam which curved to the ground. The Hobbit children giggled as he rubbed his head. "Good gracious! we must be getting back. Thank you, Daisy for a most delicious second breakfast." Daisy blushed and curtseyed.

In his excitement, James had not realised how long it took to get to The Shire. The sun was already setting by the time he and John Gardiner set foot once again on the formal lawns of the Beckley Estate.

Katherine was pacing up and down the lawns, dressed in a cloak. She stamped her feet occasionally against the cold. As she saw the two emerge from the woods she ran towards them. "Oh, I'm so glad your back, sir. You have a visitor. He's been waiting for hours. We've fed him twice, but he's not much company I'm afraid, a sour chap. Peterson has put him in the drawing room."

[Eledhwen]

Click the attachment to see the map Will spread out before his guests.

[Nenya Evenstar]

"A visitor...." James said, "Mr. Gramby, I presume?"

"Yes," Katherine answered, "one and the same!"

"Alright!" James finished, "Let us get this meeting out of the way then!" James followed Katherine into the kitchen. John disappeared somewhere, undoubtedly to discuss the happenings of the day with Peterson. "So he's cranky, you say?" James whispered to house maid at his side.

"Yes, Sir! He's been cranky since he arrived... only now he's worse!"

James grinned. He was for some reason not dreading the meeting with this cranky solicitor - in fact he was looking forward to it. After what he had been through in the past days and after all the wonders he had seen today he was beginning to doubt that anything could go wrong. Life was beginning to look like a fairytale.

"Here you are Sir," Katherine opened the drawing room doors with a curtsey, and James entered.

"Why hello there, Mr. Gramby!" he said cheerfully.

Mr. Gramby stood up from a comfortable easy chair with much less than a cheerful expression on his face. "Hello," he said shortly, "is it your usual custom to make visitors wait for all hours of the day until you receive them?" He scowled, his lower lip sticking out like a knife.

[Eledhwen]

James thrust his hand out to shake Gramby's hand. Gramby could hardly refuse, but made heavy work of it.

As if overtaken by a realisation, Gramby seemed to suddenly remember that he wanted to ingratiate himself with the new Lord. A cheesy grin suddenly cracked the lines of his frown and forced them unwillingly upward.

"Never mind! I've been well looked after" he said cheerily. This change took James by surprise, and he had some trouble closing his mouth. Quickly regaining control he replied "Good. Now then, what is it you have come to see me about?" James waved a hand at Peterson which the latter somehow knew meant 'bring a tray of tea'. He nodded and reluctantly departed.

"It's getting harder, these days, is it not, Mr...er...Lord Hemmington... that is, are you calling yourself that?" stuttered Gramby.

"After much deliberation I can say 'yes', I intend to be known as Lord Hemmington, 15th Earl of Beckley, and not Harlton or Vardune.

"Very sensible, my Lord" answered Gramby. "As I was saying, the cost of running an estate like this must be enormous, and I thought to come and offer my assistance to you, should you be thinking of, er, diversifying." Gramby rubbed his hands together as he sought for appropriate words.

"What do you mean, 'diversify'? This estate has been well maintained, and is not running outside of it's income. Why would I want to change things." James gave Gramby a piercing look as he sat and waited for his reply.

"It won't always be that way, the world is changing. Get ahead of the crowd, my Lord. It would be well for you to establish a reputation for, er, hospitality, before others take the lead." Gramby's eyes were alight with anticipation.

"What lead? What is it you are suggesting? This house has always been as hospitable as is appropriate." James was becoming annoyed with Gramby's beating about the bush.

"Paying guests, my Lord, paying guests. They'd pay a princely sum, mark my words, to stay in a place like ... " Gramby paused as Peterson entered with a tray of tea.

"You want me to turn the Beckley Estate into a Hotel, is that it? Have the place overrun with strangers and goodness knows who? I think not, Mr Gramby. I'm sorry, you have wasted your time, quite a lot of it too, if I've heard right. I bid you good day." James stood and raised his arm again to shake hands with Gramby, who reluctantly stood and responded. "I'm sure we'll speak again on the matter, my Lord. Good day."

"Please make an appointment next time you call, Mr Gramby. Good day to you." James answered, ignoring Gramby's last remark.

James was pouring himself a cup of tea when Peterson entered the room again. "Sit down, Peterson. Join me." James poured a second cup. Peterson sat on a firm chair nearby, feeling a little out of place as he meekly replied, "Yes sir."

"That man's up to something." James eventually concluded. "We'd better watch him.

"Yes, sir!" agreed Peterson.

Meanwhile, back in The Shire, the Hobbits were discussing the new incumbent of Beckley.

[Nenya Evenstar]

"He was so polight!" chattered Patty eagerly to her mother as she swept the kitchen floor. "You can tell that he is direct descendant of the past Earls!"

"Yes, my dear," Daisy said softly from the baking board, "he does seem to know a thing or two about how to make one comfortable."

"But it was more than that!" Opal chimed in, swinging her feet merrily from a stool, "He liked what he saw! I know he did! Momma? Can I go tell Jennie Marie about the visit? I hardly think that she'll believe I ate with the Earl!"

"Yes, dear!" Daisy laughed, "But don't you go bragging too hard! I don't want any high and mighty talk now." She gave the beeming Opal a floury kiss on the forehead and sent her outdoors into the evening air.

"And don't be gone too long!" came Will's voice from the sitting room. "Daisy," Will said coming into the cheery kitchen where a fire was crackly merrily on the hearth, "I really do believe that we will be alright! Hobbiton will survive! I just know it! And we will survive untouched by the miserable thing called technology!" He made a wry face.

"Oh daddy," Patty said tip-toeing onto a stool and planting a kiss on his forehead, "that may be true! And mommy is making us a pie to celebrate!"

"As we should be celebrating!" Will smiled down at his dimpling daughter with love and adoration, "and so will all of Hobbiton be celebrating as soon as the sun has arisen tomorrow. The news has already passed that this storm is over! We are safe for the time being! And the new Earl... I am beginning to think that he will be giddy by morning considering all the health wishes he has been given by the hobbits!" Will broke out into a hearty chuckle and swung Patty around the room. Such a scene was not uncommon in Hobbiton that night, for in each and every house there was rejoicing. Life would remain as normal!

[faila]

Feel free ignore my post on this story, im truly just trying to bumpit up so i can find out what hapens next.

Gramby was sitting in his parlor, trying to figure out a way to make money off of the estate. The hotel idea had already been shot down, he must think of anothe idea or approach. A frown appeare on his face and he whispered "I must think of something"
He then repeated it louder and louder until he was screaming "I must think of something".

He slamed his fist down on the table. "Their has got to be away to do this thier must be away" he whimpered, the frown slowly grew into an evil smirk. He had contrived a plan.

[goldmare]

Sorry if I steal the show for a bit here. Please excuse me if I take the story in the wrong direction (I hope not) and tell me if you think it should be deleted or rewritten.

By the way, great writing, everyone!

"First, I must investigate a bit more," Gramby pondered to himself. He had sent in spies before, usually maids or such, to scout around the estate and see what might be developed there. The reports had been exceedingly boring; to their eyes, it was a large, charming place with plenty of room to spare for guests, etc, etc, much like many of the estates in that area; thus, he had come up with the hotel idea. But he knew there was more to the place. One of his more intelligent spies had reported that the staff was very nervous about letting people walk about the estate. Oh, the fear was well concealed, but it was there, as she haddiscovered when she tried to explore the grounds. She had tried to find out more, but was unfortunately fired soon after when they had found a great number of stolen items in her room. Gramby snarled to himself. You couldn't get a good spy these days, they all had some flaw or another that eventually got them caught, or, in this case, fired.
But this time it would be different. He would be sending in one of his best. He had trained her himself, and she was the perfect maid; they would have to keep her. And she would be the one to discover the secret that was kept there.
Leaning back in his chair, he smiled an evil smile. Soon, he would know everything about the Beckley Estate...

[goldmare]

By the way, how long is this story going to be? And will Gramby be the only antagonist (bad guy)?

[Eledhwen]

Peterson was waiting behind the front door when the bell rang. A watch was always kept on the front gate, and no-one arrived without a signal being sent to the house first.

He opened the door on a young woman of slim build and simple atire. "You're from the agency?" he asked. "Yes, sir! My references, sir!" She held out a white envelope with the familiar wax seal of the best agency in Oxford. Peterson opened the envelope and scanned the contents. "Come in, Iris. I just have a few questions to ask of you." Iris smiled. "Of course, sir." and stepped smartly past Peterson.

Peterson rarely had to turn a prospective employee away; the agency was all to aware of the exacting requirements of Buckley's butler.

----

Iris proved to be a good employee; she never gossipped or spoke out of turn, and showed no tendencies to unhealthy curiosity. As the months went by, she became liked by all. Unlike the other staff, Iris always took her one day off a fortnight away from the Estate.

----

Gramby poured two cups of tea and handed one to Iris. "So, you've been there almost a year now. What can you tell me?" Iris took a sip of tea and paused. "It isn't easy, you know. I've never been anywhere where there's so little gossip. And that Lord - he disappears for days on end, sometimes weeks."

Gramby frowned. "That's not so unusual, is it?" he asked.

"It wouldn't be if he left the grounds, but he takes his pack and stick, and trots off out the back, then comes back two weeks later as if he's just been out for a stroll round the garden. Strange, that's what I call it."

"Strange indeed! I want you to find out where he goes. Careful, mind; you'll be out of there if they think you're snooping." Granby headed for the door. It was time for Iris to leave.

"I'll be careful, but careful takes time, and you're not paying me as prompt as you did at the start." She stood waiting for his answer.

"You'll get your money and more, or none at all if you fail me. Be off with you!" Gramby held the office door open as Iris strutted past him in a huff.

[goldmare]

For weeks, Iris watched and waited. She had to find a time when the master was planning on leaving AND the rest of the staff was busy or away. Just for a cover, she took to roaming the garden, night and day, smelling the flowers and actively participating in the weeding and planting. If she wasn't in the house, she was in the garden, and Peterson eventually got used to her absence, not knowing that that was what she had been aiming for the entire time. Pleased with herself, she waited for the right time to act...


One night, James readied himself for another trip to see the hobbits. The past few months had been the best he had ever experienced, and he was happier now then he had ever been. The manor had started to manage itself ever since that new maid, Iris, had arrived, and whenever he felt he needed a holiday, he didn't even have to leave his own estate to find one. Chuckling to himself, he slipped outside and into the garden, heading for the ferry. In his good humor, he didn't notice the slim figure that slipped away from the shadows after him.

Iris followed James from a distance, always making sure to keep near the trees and to follow his lantern. Focused on the light ahead, she did not notice the rustling in the trees around her until it was too late. Tripping over a tree root, she sprawled on the ground and started to get up when she realized the roots had a hold of her. She thought about screaming, but realized this would compromise her mission, and instead began to struggle and fight the trees. However, they would not be subdued. When all hope of getting out by herself was gone, she opened her mouth to scream, but closed it when she saw who was in front of her.

A strange old man had stepped out of the trees before her, and at once he began to sing in a low voice. The tree began to lose hold of her, and in a few minutes she stood up and brushed herself off. "Just who do you think you are?" she demanded of the old man.

"The name is Tom Bombadil, young lady. But I have a question for you," he said, glaring at her fiercely. "A good many questions, in fact, having to do with the reason you are following the Earl. Why don't you come with me and we'll discuss it?" he said pointedly. Catching her malevolent stare, he added, "Oh, and I can make those trees do that again."

She glanced fearfully around at the trees, who seemed to tower in even closer, and reluctantly followed him away through the woods.

[Eledhwen]

Soon, a terrified Iris was staggering along after Tom, faster than she wanted to walk; but it was not safe to go back. She felt the hosility of the trees. Soon she was standing alone inside a long, low-roofed room in a simple cottage. Tom had trotted off, singing a ditty, as he went about some chores. A voice behind her, musical as a soft waterfall in a forest brook, caused her to turn in amazement, "Lady, you have the name of a fair river flower. Why then is your heart so stirred to evil?"

Behind her stood a young woman, more beautiful than any she had seen, with flowing yellow hair and dressed in a simple, yet lovely green-blue dress which seemed to sparkle like a spring in the sunlight. Iris struggled to speak: "Who are you?"

"I am Goldberry, Riverdaughter and Lady of this house. Tom Bombadil is master. You should know, fair Iris, that you cannot touch the roses of the garden while you carry evil thoughts, that Tom Bombadil does not get to hear of it; and you have been gardening much of late, have you not?"

"I have," answered Iris. "And it has brought me much peace. But I have a job to do."

Goldberry looked straight into Iris' blue eyes. "Well we know it, Master Tom and I; but your employment is a deceit, and your true employer a deceiver. Know you not that you cannot serve two masters? And you have chosen to despise the one who is honest and good."

Iris could not bear Goldberry's gaze, but cast her eyes down, "I have learned that well, Lady Goldberry. But I have no choice in the matter. I must report for I am in his pay, and will suffer much hurt otherwise."

"You shall return this pay and redeem yourself of your debt, Iris, but first, stay awhile. You have travelled long to reach this dwelling and I see you are ready for refreshment. Will you eat with Tom and Goldberry?

Iris was not keen to meet Tom again, but she was both hungry and thirsty by now, and Goldberry was already bringing all manner of choice foods to the table. She need not have worried, though. Tom was a perfect host and made no reference to the manner of her capture, for though she had forgotten it at that merry table, she was not there by choice.

After dinner, Goldberry invited Iris for a walk along the banks of the small river that ran through the forest. "This is the Withywindle - last of the enchanted brooks" said Goldberry. As she spoke, she walked into the shallows of the brook up to her ankes, and Iris noticed that Goldberry was now barefoot. She turned and beckoned. "Will you join me, Iris?" The sun was warm and the whisper of the trees seemed to be enticing Iris into the water. She hesitated a moment, having learned that she could not entirely trust the trees; but the whispering and the heat seemed to draw her towards the water, and she stepped in. Immediately, she felt a great drowsiness come upon her. She looked up at Goldberry whose smiling face seemed to be dissolving into blackness.

The sun's rays were dancing between the branches of the tree, playing spots of light on Iris's face. She awoke to afternoon birdsong on the lower lawns of the Estate. Fletcher the gardener was digging a nearby flower bed. "Hello young lady; I hope you've slept well, because you're on duty in an hour. The Lord is home and a dinner must be prepared."

"But he's..." Iris checked herself; she didn't want to reveal that she had been taking an interest in James' comings and goings, though she wondered at her strange dream and how she had come to fall so soundly asleep. She stood, yawned and dusted herself off. As she walked towards the great house she noticed a weight in her pocket. She took out a small green purse. She counted the exact amount that Gramby had paid her. She remembered the words of Goldberry in her dream; "You shall return this pay and redeem yourself of this debt, Iris."

Iris stood still and stared at the small fortune in her hands. She thought about all the things she could buy, or maybe she could leave and set up her own small business - a shop maybe? But what if Gramby found her? What if Tom Bombadil found her? Who is Tom Bombadil anyway? Is he real, or a dream? The money was real, and Lord Hemmington was real and good, and a master worth serving, not like the wicked Gramby.

"What on earth should I do?" she asked herself out loud.

[goldmare]

I think we're running a two-person show here, Eledhwen. Please, people, join in!


Iris thought about her decision day and night. When she could, she watched Lord Hemmington and his behavior. The more she observed, the more she liked him and felt guilty for ever betraying him, yet she kept putting the decision off. She didn't want to make a decision, fearing the consequences of either one. If she did what was right, she would suffer the wrath of Gramby. If she continued to spy on the master, she would not be able to live with herself, and who knew what Tom Bombadil would do? After a few weeks of confusion and indecision, she finally chose what she knew to be right. But she would give Lord Hemmington something in return for her former betrayal.

Wrestling with guilt, she knocked on the door to Peterson's room. "Come in," he said, and she turned the knob and found him turning away from his desk. "Yes?"

"Sir, I have done something that I think you need to know about. And I would like to offer you some information that could prove invaluable."

With a wary look on his face, he said, "Please continue."

"Since the beginning of my employ here I have been a spy for someone who wants to learn the estate's secrets. No, wait," she said hastily, seeing his enraged look. "Before you reply, please hear me out. Gramby has wanted to make money off this place all along, and he sent me to scout around and find out how.

"After spending such a wonderful time here, I have undergone a change of heart, and I have decided to return the money he has paid me and stop spying. Of course, now that you know, you will probably fire me anyway. But I first want to say that you could keep me here and instead use me to spy on him, if you have it in your heart to trust that I have truly changed. This offer stands before you, although I know what I deserve. Let me say that if I were you, I would want to know everything about his designs. Especially because of the fact that if he knew about my decision, he would simply send in another spy. But that is up to you." She looked expectantly at him, and he opened his mouth to answer.

[goldmare]

Hello? Is anyone out there? Eledhwen? Faila? Nenya Evenstar? I don't want to lose this thread, it's such a good story. Still, maybe we'd better finish it. Come on, people!

[Eledhwen]

James was in his study when he heard the quiet knock accompanied by Patterson's familiar throat clearing. "Come in, Patterson. What can I do for you?" Patterson stood near the door, awkwardly. "It's Iris, my Lord. She's, well, she's.... She's in the pay of Gramby, that is, to find the secret of this Estate. She came and told me herself."

James frowned. "Told you herself? Why, she would only do that out of remorse. Send her to me; I want to talk with her at once. I must know what she has discovered."

Still standing in the doorway, Peterson shuffled awkwardly; "That will take a little time, my Lord. You see, the policy has always been to dismiss any staff as might compromise the, er, the Shire, so to speak. She left this afternoon. Mr Gardner has driven her to town; he got back about an hour ago."

James stood. He looked angry. "I'm sorry, Peterson, that won't do at all! This girl has come to you to for help to disentangle herself from Gramby's web and you have dismissed her! Do we have an address for her?"

"I don't rightly know, sir, though I suppose...."

James slammed his books and reached for his jacket. "Get a horse and trap ready. I need speed." He looked angrily at Peterson; "You have given her no option, Peterson, but to return to Gramby's clutches - along with whatever else she has discovered since her last visit. Did she not tell you? She has met Bombadil!"

Peterson looked alarmed. "Gracious and mercy, sir! I had no idea. Why, Bombadil only acts when..."

James opened the door himself, interrupting Peterson "When one comes whose destiny is to become the Lady Hetherington. I know, Will told me all the history. Let's go."

"What, me too sir?" asked Peterson, following James quickly down the hall.

"Yes, you too sir! First, you have an apology to make; and second, you know the area better than me if she is not in the obvious places."

--------------------

Iris stood outside Gramby's office, wrapping her shawl tightly around her face against a chill wind. The door was locked. "I'll just have to try again tomorrow." She thought. But where to stay the night?

[goldmare]

Once in town, James and Peterson split up. They had decided that the two most likely places for Iris to go would be Gramby's office or a hotel. James began to inquire at the three hotels in the area, while Peterson hurried to Gramby's office in hopes of intercepting her. The office, however, was closed for the day, and peering through the window, Peterson couldn't see anything moving in the darkness. Sighing with disgust, he turned away and spotted street constable at his post. Striding over, he asked politely, "Excuse me, my good man. Did you happen to see a young lady come by this office anytime within the last few hours? We were supposed to meet here, but I was late and I'm afraid I've missed her."

"Oh yes, sir," supplied the constable. "She seemed very distressed, and stood in front of that window for a long time before turning away to call for a cab. There weren't many on the street, so she had to do with a shabby cab pulled by a tired, plodding old horse. I believe she gave directions for the cabby to take her to the Cobb Street Hotel, and so off they went."

"Thank you very much, I am in your debt," Peterson replied with relief. Without a second's pause he turned sharply away from the constable and started for the direction of the hotel.

James, in the meantime, had tried the first two hotels and was entering the doors of the third. Discovering from the desk clerk what room Iris was in, he went up and knocked. "Who's there?" came the strained reply.

"It's James. Please let me in." After a moment, the door hesitantly opened, and James found himself face to face with a tired and guilt-faced Iris. She immediately began to speak. "My lord, please don't make this any harder on either of us. I already discussed this with Peterson, you really didn't need to come out here--"

"Iris, I haven't come to berate you for what you did. I have come to offer you something." James' eyes bored into her's as he built up the courage for what he was going to do. "Iris, I have come to ask you to marry me."

She gasped, delighted yet utterly confused. "But my lord, I'm just a servant...and after what I did...what about Gramby?"

"Oh, don't worry," he said, a far away, devious look in his eyes. "We have ways of dealing with the likes of him. Now that he's been exposed, we'll be able to do something about it. He won't be able to go behind our backs like before."

Her thoughts whirled, and she shook her head incredulously. "But why marry me?"

He again focused his eyes on her. "Because, Iris, you did the right thing, even though it meant giving up money and facing Gramby's wrath. Also, it took a lot of courage to admit what you did to Patterson. But the biggest reason..." James struggled with his words, trying to make sense out of what he was about to say. "Iris, I am not fickle when it comes to love, and after a great deal of thought and reflection, I have decided that...I love you, and I would like you to be my wife." He watched her conflicted features for a few moments, saw them clear, and with a big smile, she launched herself into his arms. "Of course I will, my lord!"

He laughed merrily, and set her down. Gazing into her eyes, he said softly, "Call me James." And with that, he passionately kissed her, celebrating the new life they would have together.

(Is this the end, or do you want to add more? I just thought this way was fitting, especially since it's Valentine's Day. But feel free to add what you wish.)

[Eledhwen]

... and they lived happily ever afterwards to the end of their days.

Epilogue:

They had the usual society wedding, of course. Everyone loved Iris, and soon forgot her previous lowly status. A grand ball was held at the house, but for sheer delightfulness, it could not match the party held in The Shire. Even Old Tom Bombadil and Goldberry attended, and a merry time was had by all.

In the course of time, James and Iris had a son, Andrew. As the boy grew, he had some small friends round from time to time, and they explored the gardens together. Andrew's best friend was John. One day, they were exploring some cellars under the main house and stumbled upon a small wooden door. It had been a priest hole, but was older than that.

Inside were piles of old books. John loved books, so he and Andrew returned to the hole often to look through them - many story books, diaries, and even some old parchment scrolls. But John's favourite was a thick red book. The first words written in it were in a very spidery hand. The language was strange, but John had a gift with language, and was soon reading the stories to Andrew.

And so it was, when Andrew was old enough to learn about the Hobbits, he already knew more of their history than they themselves did, having read the great Red Book written by Bilbo and Frodo Baggins of The Shire. John, of course, remembered all he had read.

[HobbitGirl]

Yay! Fantastic story! I love the epilogue. :D