Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 4 |
| In the Wild |
For the "Bequeath" prompt. |
| There's a thread of smoke rising from the clearing; Bilbo tiptoes around its edge, unwilling to show himself till he's taken a good look. But the figure hunched over the fire calls, without turning round: “Come, Master Hobbit; there is warmth and food here for two.” “Far too quiet for Dwarf or Man, and I'd know were you an Elf,” the shaggy-haired stranger explains. “My people have guarded the Shire-borders for many a year, and know Hobbit foot-falls.” Fine lines around his eyes, bequeathed by years in the open, crinkle as he smiles and proffers tobacco. “Where are you bound?” |
'I have often kept watch on the borders of the Shire in the last few years, when [Gandalf] was busy elsewhere. He seldom left it unguarded.' The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 10, Strider. |