"She had ribbons in her hair."

Merry froze in place, not expecting an audience. “It’s Estella.. She..” There was no way to say this without letting their news known. “She has cravings. None of the shops are open, but I think Farmer Maggot might be agreeable. I’ll overpay him for the trouble. Pippin is at home with her and Diamond.” 

He sighed and said, “We weren’t ready to tell anybody about the baby yet, but maybe you can help me find some of this.” He held out a list of things Estella craved. 

"Baby?"

The astonishment in Rosie's eyes was evident, yet she understood completely. With four little ones of her own, she had experienced the strangest of cravings, understood just how strong they could be.

"Come on! Maybe m' Pa can lend us somethin'. He'll understand, I reckon."

======================================

“Rose Cotton, bless me how you’ve grown.” 

Fond as he was of the Shirefolk, with all his great comings and goings and tramping across the land, it was sometimes a little hard for Gandalf to keep track of just how quickly young hobbit boys and girls turned into hobbit youths and maidens; and in the case of Rose Cotton, a fair maiden no less.

Leaning on his staff he gave her upturned face a long appraising look and nodded to himself. Yes, she had spirit, that was for certain. He could remember her as a child, easily matching the lads whatever the game, and like so many Hobbit children, forever hanging around him in the hope of seeing  (and perhaps even sneaking) some extra fireworks before  a big event. Everything seemed to thrill her.  In fact, she reminded him of the several Hobbit lads and lasses who – with only the smallest amount of influence from himself of course – had suddenly upped and offed into the blue, away on an adventure…

Remembering Rosie was still waiting for an answer, he smiled at her from beneath the brim of his shady hat. “Yes indeed, it has been long – too long in fact - since Gandalf the Grey last walked the green hills and leafy lanes of the Shire, and I must say that I am very, very pleased to be back.”  Shifting his weight so that he leaned more heavily on his staff, he fixed the youngster with a friendly eye, “So tell me Rosie, how is life treating you? Does your father still keep you busy on the farm?”

"Three-foot-four, I am now. Don't reckon 'm growin' much more."

For no, Rosie had passed her coming-of-age ceremony just a year prior. Despite not feeling like it much of the time, she was grown now, a Hobbit woman in place of a girl.

Leaning against her fence, Rosie let out a small laugh, one of delight and happiness. It had been far too long since Gandalf had shown his face around the Shire! She predicted that he would have many similar conversations with other Hobbits as he passed.

"Need any company on the way?

"'Course he does! And m' eldest brother is gettin' married soon, got 'is own farm t' run. Y' remember Young Tom, don't y'?"

   Frodo nodded as he absentmindedly separated some biscuits aside for Sam. He made a mental note to make an effort to heat up the tea and biscuits for his friend when he returned home later. Though that will come later. Right now all the former Ring-bearer wanted was to retreat back in his study. He didn’t want to sound unsociable but the little break had been enough for him and seclusion called. 

   He got up from his seat taking his cup with him. “Rosie thank you for the little break, but I must return to my work. Let me know when Sam arrives and I’ll reheat everything and don’t worry about cleaning up I can handled it.”

"Y' feelin' alright?"

Eyes followed as he got to his feet, concerned for his health if anything. Being stuck in the study for so long couldn't be good for him, and Rosie cared enough to want him well.

"Y' not ill, are y'?"

The hobbit’s shriek had fallen on deaf ears, Gollum scurrying along, carrying the basket—the handle, really—in his mouth. The basket itself swung back and forth, the contents rolling from side to side, most likely sticking to each other if they were as soft and moist as the cake. An unsavory image, that nasty cake stuck to the nice juicy meat and he was quick to push it out of his mind.

Eventually, Gollum came to a towering tree, hearing the hobbit’s indignant calls in the distance, paying them no heed. Wasting no time, he climbed up the tree, stopping just about midway, perhaps slightly more, before eagerly ferreting through the basket. It contained more cake, much to the wretch’s dismay, as well as strange little rolls of a harder consistency. He sniffed and frowned, picking one up and gnawing at it tentatively.

With a cry of disgust, Gollum promptly chucked it onto the ground. Soon, it was raining rolls and cakes as he continued rummaging, desperately hoping to find something, anything, besides those horrible sweets. He paused and peered down at the hobbit, her words finally reaching him.

"What does we likes?"

"Oh, we likes fish, precious! Yes, nice fish, sweet fish!"

"Nice hobbitses too…"

Rosie had ran as fast as she could after the nasty little creature, anger building up inside of her. She didn't stop until she reached the tree, straining her eyes to look up at him. She held a hand up, shielding her face from the sun, desperately searching for the thieving little beast.

"Get down, now!"

When the rolls and cakes started to rain down, the Hobbit wanted to scream. She let out a shriek of anguish, watching her hard work go to waste. Oh, she was going to kill him! The evil, thieving, conniving little..

"I'm warning you, y' little monster!"

He debates on whether it’d be a good idea to tell her or not. Not like he was keeping it a secret. In fact, most people he knew…acknowledged his aptitude. Though, it would depend on the person should they become fearful or not. And should he proceed to doing so, as he’s done countless times in the past…would the girl be afraid? 

And as offsetting as it may, he’d in fact come across countless people who were not very fond of swordplay. Guess they didn’t seem to like the idea that one so young should be involved with such barbarities.

"You have a sword?!"

In that moment, Rosie stopped dancing, eyes suddenly clouding over. Her mind drifted then to a far off place, full of swordfights and battles and armour. A land so far from the Shire, where conflict was rarely seen.

Of course, her parents wouldn't approve of her taking part in such things. It wasn't as if Rosie wanted to become part of a war, to swing swords and sing battle cries. Yet it was fascinating all the same.

"Do you still 'ave it?"

"Oh, I didn't learn t' dance, s' much as practice. I jus' always did it really. Since I was little."

[ H ] e nodded his head, uttering a soft thank you. The King figured it wouldn’t hurt to give up the four names. There was a chance, after all, that she knew who he was talking about.

" frodo, samwise, pippin, and merry… perhaps you know of them ? " He wondered if he was too vague with the names. Last names would most likely aid her in remembering the hobbits. There seemed to be a lot of citizens living in the Shire— many of which could have the same if not similar names.

"'Course I know the lot!"

How could she not? One was her husband, and the others were dear friends. She hoped that Sam and Frodo wouldn't mind her saying it to him, yet he seemed friendly enough. He'd called them his friends after all.

"I live with a couple o' 'em, as a matter o' fact. Lovely lads, they are."

"Ahah, I’m a traveler…I just sorta wandered out here~…" The halfling purred slowly. "Hmm…" She hummed for a moment, and then laughed, in a sudden burst of energy.

Rosie raised a brow before laughing softly at her sudden outburst. It was typical to see of someone who had never touched a drop of ale before. Perhaps they shouldn't drink much more..

"Stayin' for long?"

Lou Ellen looked forward to it as well. She was very much excited. This was something she’d only dreamed about until recently! Wow. She’d really lucked out this time!

"Good t’ hear."

"Most o’ the time, yeah. But there were times tha’ I did not, truth be told."

"What d'you mean?"

Rosie raised a brow, taking a gulp of her drink. She sent a concerned look to the girl, wondering if it was just general family arguments or something much bigger. She hoped it was the former.

"D'you not like 'em?"

          “Oh no,  I would  not  dare  to  stir  up trouble! I’m            only here for a good laugh or two, and, of course            to  drink  a  fine  ale  and  eat  some  good  food!”

        And of course it was a lie,  and the mischief had almost         been written on his forehead as he spoke.   No,  trouble         will come of it, and almost everyone knew it as well. But         what he said about the ale and the food wasn’t a lie,  as         he was truly and admirer of  the  taste  of  food  and  ale!

          “I see!  But  then,  you  probably  are waiting for            especially one of them,  aren’t  you?  I  haven’t            seen Sam or his family around yet, but maybe            they’re   tending   the   flowers   around   here?”

"Good then, 'cause that's why I'm 'ere as well! And dancin' o' course."

A grin lit her face, as she pushed dark curls away from her eyes. She knew that the Took was probably lying, for it wasn't a true celebration without him and his cousin causing some trouble. If anything, Rosie was looking forward to it. It always made everything more interesting.

"What d'you mean 'especially one'? I'm waitin' f' all of 'em!"

"And its a bit late t' be tendin' t' flowers."

"It’s no problem, at all." She nodded, allowing radiating golden locks to spill over shoulder before bare feet trotted forward to become closer to the hobbit.

"I have no other plans - it is not an inconvenience." Lilliandil gestured forward, back the way the other came. She had gazed down upon the Shire for many centuries;; the Star knew the way easily.

"Tell me, what is your name?"

"M' name?"

She blinked, before regaining her composure. It was obvious that this woman was of a high standing, and it took all of Rosie's might not to curtsey at her arrival.

"Rosie Cotton o' the Shire, Ma'am. And.. what 'bout yours?"

"Sylvanas Windrunner of Lindon."

The elf maiden was visiting the Shire for the first time and she actually liked it. It seemed peaceful, but incomparable to her home. She wondered if she could fit in any of the hobbit houses because she had to stay there for quite a while.

"Umm, do you have any bigger places to stay or something for my size?"

"Fancy name y' got."

Only the wealthiest of Hobbits had names like that, with titles at the end. Rosie was just Rosie, and suddenly felt a little self-conscious of that fact. Why was she speaking so improperly to someone of such a high position?

"Bigger? Oh, 'm sure. We've got a bigger room in the inn, 'though there's jus' one."

   ”Thank you Rosie.” He managed smile. “Though a proper host wouldn’t have forgotten the biscuits.” Or tried to run out on his guest for that matter he thought. 

   ”I suppose Sam will be joining us shortly, I hope we have enough.” Frodo gestured to the tea and biscuits. “I’m sure he would like some after a hard days work.”

"It'll be 'ard t' forgive," she replied, a mocking grin on her face. She shook her head then, gesturing to the vast amount of biscuits that they had to share. Of course, Hobbits did love their food, yet Rosie was sure that they wouldn't get through them all.

"We can save 'im some, o' course. I'm sure he'll appreciate it, even if its jus' one."