Another addition to my weird hobbity stories. In this story, a group of hobbits (probably from the Took clan) moved away from the Shire in the Second Age and ended up in Gondor and……well, you’ll have to see what their descendants get up to, won’t you? The song is from the book Holes, which is v good.

Lord of the Rings doesn’t belong to me. Only the characters that don’t appear in the book or film (don’t worry, you’ll recognise them). The others have just been borowed.

In the Second Age……

They said the family had meant it to happen. That they had meant the Thain’s youngest to drown, they had meant Anna Bryer to trip, and push her into the water, letting her best friend to drown. That they had meant the huge scandal to appear when Nicholas Took spent the night in a barn with Zenya Bryer, and nine months later a scrawny babe was born. That they had caused the first Grass Fever plague, they had meant the attack of men from the hills, that they were responsible for the great fire in Tookland, killing seven. That the family had caused all these things, and many more.

The Bryers pleaded their innocence. But the loss of his daughter, the scandal of his son, the illness of his wife, the slaying of his brother and the terror of the fire, had hardened the Thain’s heart against all Bryers. He ordered them to be cast out from the Shire, ne’er to return.

And that’s where the story starts………

“Zenya! Zenya!” Nicholas sped through the Great Smials like a wild horse. Several of the cooks sighed and shook their heads. But none tried to stop him. The son of the Thain had a mind of his own when it came to his own feelings.

As Nicholas barged into one room, a black haired lass lifted her head. It was obvious she had been crying.

“Oh, Zenya,” Nicholas murmured. He held his arms out and the girl half collapsed into them, struggling to fight back tears. Nicholas bent his head down and whispered to the girl, “Don’t worry, Zenya. Let me talk to my father, he will let you stay…”

Zenya lifted her head, and once again Nicholas was struck with the beauty on her face. Her sparkling green eyes stared at his brown ones.

“You can’t,” She told him, “Your father would punish you for taking our side, and I will not have you beaten.”

“But…”

“Also, if we did stay, who would care for us? We would be scorned and driven away by the people of any farthing. Word spreads around this Shire.”

Nicholas gently stroked her hair, “I would not.”

“I know you wouldn’t. That’s what makes you different to all the others…..” Zenya took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. As Nicholas deepened the kiss, he was reminded of the night in the barn. The night he made the worst decision of his life. Or maybe it was the best.

Zenya pulled herself away, and Nicholas felt something being pressed into his hand. He looked, and saw a slim chain of gold, with a star of emerald hanging from it.

“I know that one day, we will meet again,” Zenya explained, “I know that I am not the one for you, that you will marry and have children. But either us two, or our children’s children shall meet again, I know it. And when they do, I want my child to recognise yours. By this.”

Nicholas forced his tears back into his throat, and dug into his pocket, withdrawing a round white gem, “And mine will recognise yours by this,” He told her, “And they will meet, I know it.”

“So do I,” Zenya was crying openly, “Nicholas, I will always love you. No matter if my parents make me marry the king of Gondor, or if you marry the prettiest lass in the Shire and have a thousand heirs, I know in my heart I shall never forget you, and never stop loving you.” Nicholas grabbed her hands and pulled her into a passionate kiss, their tears intermingling. He withdrew, pressing the gem into her hands.

“I shall never forget you, or stop loving you, Zenya Bryer. And I shall never forget our night together.” His gaze travelled over to the two month old child sleeping softly on the bed, “And I shall never forget our child either.”

“Zenya Bryer!” An old, wizened lady came tottering into the room, “The cart must leave in five minutes!” She looked at Nicholas, not with anger like the rest of her family, but with a mixture of love and pride. She loved the lad like her own, “Eru bless you, my lad,” She whispered softly, “May good fortune and luck be given to you and your heirs for the rest of your days,” She smiled suddenly, a beam of light smoothing away the woes on her face, “And we can’t have you catching a chill now, can we?” She withdrew from her bag a scarf, draping it around his neck, “Remember us with good will, and think of us with a friendly mind?” It was a question, not a statement.

Nicholas bowed low, “I have never done anything contrary to that,” He walked over to Zenya’s bed, picking up the baby, and handed it to her mother, “Goodbye, Zenya.”

Zenya choked back her tears, “Goodbye, Nicholas.” She burst into tears and ran from the room, still crying. The old lady squeezed Nicholas’ shoulder and followed her granddaughter, leaving Nicholas standing there, helpless.

Zenya jumped onto the cart, letting her father start the horses up. She cooed to her waking babe, “Hush, my precious, my only,” She half sang, half said, “I will always care, always look after, always love you, my daughter. My gem, my Moonbeam.”

************************************
If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply;
Reflecting the sun, and all that’s gone by,
Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly.
Fly high, my baby bird,
My angel, my only,
**************************************

In the Third Age, somewhere near Osgiliath, in a ranger encampment behind a waterfall……(sound familiar?)

Alanya fingered the white gem in her breast pocket. Life in Captain Faramir’s section of rangers left little time for reflectment. Yet here she was, reflecting on her family history. Namely, the story of Zenya Bryer and Nicholas Took……

It was a long time ago, apparently. In the Second Age. Completely irrelevant to her life. The “holder of the necklace”, as she liked to call the lad she dreamed of, probably didn’t even exist. The old Thain would have destroyed the necklace, had he found the merest trace of it. Or it may have been stolen, by a girl who fancied it for herself, or a merchant, using it to earn just that little extra for his food. Or maybe even by something like that wretched frog-like creature she was meant to be looking out for……Nah, the holder probably was nothing like she imagined. Even if it was a lad, he was probably spiteful, or stupid, or evil…But she couldn’t stop thinking….. ‘What if it’s me? What if I find the holder?’ And even worse, ‘What if I fall in love with him?’ She snorted. Her, fall in love? That was a laugh.

“Penny for ’em.” Alanya spun round, coming face to face with Jonathan, her cousin, “You shouldn’t let your guard down you know. One swipe and ,whoosh, your gone. Head cut of, heart stabbed out, lungs pierced….”

“Ok, ok!” Alanya put her hands up to stop the flow of ideas, “Keep it down, or we’ll get in trouble. One of those sneaks from up front’ll report us to Denethor, and he’ll take us out for sure. You know he’s still angry because we are ‘evil halflings’ that he now hates because of that riddle thing…”

“Which caused his bloody beloved son to go to Rivendell, and probably get himself killed,” Jonathan grabbed a piece of stale bread and began eating it grumpily, “Stupid idiot.”

“Jonathan! It wasn’t his fault! You know as well as I do Denethor is a raving loony, so Boromir couldn’t help being favoured. And it isn’t his fault what happened to you either…..”

“Enjoying a good gossip are we, mates?” Alanya and Jonathan sprang up to face Faramir. Surprisingly however, he did not look too angry, just wearied, “You two will be the death of me, I can promise you that.” He shook his head, a small grin on his face. “I don’t know what I would do without you though.”

“Fara – Captain, are you okay?” Jonathan asked. Faramir shook his head.

“Not really, but thanks for asking. The prisoners aren’t too happy with being captured. I reckon the larger one would have taken a swipe at me with his sword if the men weren’t there. That thing looked deadly.”

“What were they? Men? Dwarves?”

Faramir smiled again, “No…hobbits.”

Alanya almost fell of her stool, “Hobbits! What are they doing so far away from the Shire? And so near to Mordor?”

“That, Alanya, is a very good question, and one that I intend to find the answer to.”

“Can we see them? To talk to?”

Faramir groaned. If his father found out…. “Fine! Fine! But not together, Eru only knows how much damage the two of you could cause…”

“Cheek,” Jonathan muttered, “Can you believe it Al? Hobbits outside the Shire again….Al?”

The only reply he got was a sound of pattering feet as Alanya ran of to confront the newcomers…

“Mister Frodo, you really should eat something. You haven’t eaten for days, and if you don’t at all…..” Frodo groaned, and tried to blot out Sam’s voice by closing his eyes. Sam was a good servant, and even more a good friend. You could come to him with a problem and get a brilliant solution, he would help you in times of need, or care for you when you were sick. But how he went on and on…..

“…..You can’t go on like this you know…..” Frodo’s eyes snapped open in panic. He hadn’t stopped!

“Sam! Please shut up for ten seconds!” Frodo snapped, and Sam’s eyes welled up in hurt. Frodo mentally kicked himself for hurting his friend, and tried a different approach, “I’m sorry Sam. But I’m really not hungry, I don’t need any food, and you’re just tiring me by going on….”

“Sorry Mister Frodo. I’ll try to keep quiet.” Frodo nodded thankfully and closed his eyes in relief. But….

“Are you sure you can’t manage a little something?” But this time it was not Frodo’s voice that snapped.

“Please! Will you please be quiet! He may go insane if you keep on like that! I may go insane if you go on like that! You may go insane if you go on like that!”

Sam jumped to his feet, “Where are you?” He shouted. A ring of laughter was his only answer, “Show yourself!”

“Come on, Master Traveller, use your eyes.” There was a sound like pacing around the room, and Frodo stared around like a startled rabbit, “Now if I were me (which I am) where would I hide?” It was obvious the voice was taunting them, “Would I hide behind the door? Up in the roof? Behind these crates?”

“Sam,” Frodo muttered slowly, “I don’t think he’s going to show himself.”

“So all of your good sense hasn’t gone with his badgering, eh?” Sam growled under his breath, “Easy, Master Samwise!” Sam’s face must have shown surprise, for the voice laughed again, “Yes, I’ve heard all your talk. And, Mister Baggins, I am going to show myself, to show you how badly you could recognise a girl’s voice.”

Before either of them could turn or speak, a head popped up behind them, “Hello!” It was only when they had regained their breath that Sam noticed something.

“You’re a girl!” He yelped in surprise.

“Who? Where, when, how, why, what!” The girl gasped in surprise, looking around the room at invisible people, peering for the girl, “No! You’re talking to me? Well I never! All these years and I never figured out I was a girl? Well, well, well!” Sam looked at her uneasily, “Of course I’m a girl you ninny-head.”

Frodo took another look at her, “And you’re a hobbit!”

The girl raised an eyebrow, “I should come to you two for wisdom and guidance, asking you questions that are painfully obvious. Although some of the men may need that sort of help.” She grinned, “So; what are two hobbits doing miles away from any particular civilisation, leagues away from the Shire, with a frog as a guide?” She snorted with laughter, and Sam was inclined to grin, “Oh, come on, that’s what he looks like.” She protested at the look Frodo gave her, “All that hopping about and making odd noises.” She imitated Gollum for a bit, until Sam was laughing and even Frodo was smiling, the imitation was so accurate and funny at the same time. She sat on her haunches and grinned up at them, “So, I’m intrigued. Come on, tell me why you’re here! I love a good story.”

Frodo narrowed his eyes, “If we tell you, will you tell Captain Faramir?”

The girl looked at him slyly, “Maybe. But why are you so worried. He’s a good man, and he’ll only kill you if you’re in league with Sauron. You’re not, are you? I’m enjoying our little chats, and chatting with two corpses just doesn’t seem to be the same.”

“Before we tell you about ourselves, why don’t you tell us a bit about you?” Frodo was intrigued by this lass, though a little disturbed by her last comment, “You haven’t really chatted with corpses have you?” There was a note of panic in his voice.

“Oh well, if I have time after a battle I will occasionally sit down by the orcs’ severed bodies with a mug of ale, offer them a drink and chat ‘genteelly’ about the weather, how their family is doing since I killed them last and how wolf flesh tastes. Though they never seem to reply, and I can’t begin to think why that is.” Sam spluttered with laughter, and the lass giggled at the sight on Frodo’s face, “Joke! Well, you want to know a bit about me. Well, my name is Alanya Bryer, I’m twenty-six, I’m a ranger here and I’ve lived in Gondor for all my life. So, what about you?”

But Frodo did not answer. The name had rung a bell in his mind, “…Bryer….” He muttered. The name was familiar. Even Sam was pulling a face, trying hard to remember the name he had heard once, in a story a long time ago beside the fire.

For the first time Alanya’s good natured face darkened, “Let me jog your memory,” She muttered, “Second Age, Tooks, thrown out of the Shire?”

Sam snapped his fingers as the tale came back to him, “That’s it!” He suddenly noticed the girl’s dejected face, “Sorry, miss, but I knew I’d heard that name from somewhere!”

She grinned again, but this time it was a forced grin, “No doubt you didn’t hear about us in a very good light, eh?”

Frodo shrugged, “Well, not from the way that Uncle Paladin tells it,” He said, “Though I am willing to bet that if one of your family told it, the story would come about in quite a different light!”

Alanya smirked, “No doubt, no doubt indeed!” She laughed, “But you may remember me personally. Do you remember, about twenty years ago, when an unknown family came to the Shire, supposedly from Bree?”

Frodo looked confused, “Yeah, but their name was Tunnelly….” He trailed off, looking at her, as if in a different light.

Alanya burst out laughing, “Let me tell you, when your family has been hated since the Second Age, it’s a good idea to invent fake names,” She stuck out her mitt, “Camielia Tunnelly, at your service, sir.”

Frodo took the hand and shook it eagerly. Sam looked perplexed, “Camielia Tunnelly?” He muttered, “Wasn’t she the lass that punched Master Pippin in the face?”

Alanya pouted, “Only because he tipped spiders down my dress!”

“Sam, rejoice!” Frodo laughed in mock celebration, “For we have found an ally against Meriadoc Brandybuck (you remember him, don’t you?) and Perigrin Took!”

“I shall be glad to have that honour bestowed upon me, kind sirs!” Alanya told them, laughing and bowing, “So, how are those two, anyway?”

Frodo and Sam looked at each other and grinned. Alanya seemed to be the only lass who liked Merry and Pippin purely for the reason that they were her friends, and not the heirs of the Master of Buckland and the Thain, “If you count making as much mischief as possible, ‘doing extremely well’ then they are beyond that, they are abundantly well, they have never been better!”

Alanya grinned, “Still the same, eh?”

“Yes miss,” Sam nodded solemnly, still unsure of what to call Alanya, “In fact, if you’ll believe it, they’ve even joined the quest we’re on, and I wouldn’t know why they did that. Too dangerous for young ones, in case we’re caught, carrying the enemy’s ring.”

“Sam!” Frodo cried out, horrified, but it was too late, Alanya was already staring at them intently. At the panicked look from Sam she averted her gaze and her glazed stare rested on the fire. For a moment she seemed to have gone over to another world.

“Alanya?” Frodo shook her shoulder. She batted his hand away, then, almost shaking herself, snapped out of it. She looked at them with a small smile.

“Your pardon,” she explained, “But I have a tendency to do that. Did you really mean that about the One Ring?” she asked the terrified Sam.

He groaned, “Oh, me and my mouth! I have put my foot in it!”

“You certainly have,” Alanya agreed, a grim smile on her face. Sam turned white, then flushed and turned to her.

“Now miss, don’t go thinking my master’s a fool because his servants no better than one. You put me off my guard, so’s to speak, and now you’ve what my master’s carrying, and what’s to be done I don’t know.” He sat down and looked utterly dejected.

Alanya sighed and patted him on the back, “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” She comforted him, “I’d probably have found it out anyway.”

Sam looked confused, “How?”

“Captain Faramir was going to question you about why you’re here, what your business is, bla, bla, bla. You’d probably have spilled then, one or the other.”

“I would not have!”

“Okay, okay, you wouldn’t have. But anyway, if you hadn’t noticed, (which I hadn’t till just now) your master’s ring is sitting there on its chain, bold as brass! Or, bold as enchanted metal, if you will.” She laughed, and the two hobbits realised, too late, that what she said was true.

“I guess you’ll be telling Captain Faramir then.” Frodo muttered.

“Me! No! But I would like to know a bit more about this Ring. For interests sake, if that’ll put your mind at rest.”

“I don’t know…..” Frodo started, but Sam had already decided.

“With your leave sir, I’d say yes. She already knows we have it, and what’s the harm of telling her a bit about it.”

Frodo looked at Alanya doubtfully. She sighed, and placed a hand on her heart, saying, “I promise that I shan’t breath a word of this to anyone, man nor beast, till I die or you two say I can.” She looked up, “So can you tell me? Please?”

Frodo groaned. No good will come of this, he thought. And he was right.

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