How does it feel to be the last of one’s kind? After my grandmother died, I knew. The feeling is not one that any hobbit, man, elf, or dwarf should have to go through.
I buried my grandmother as far away from the Anduin as I could possibly carry her. I could not bear to be alone but for a week; I was driving myself mad. My parents and relatives departed from the Gladden Fields when I was young and left me to care for my grandmother, whose line had been cursed with long life. She was frail and unable to make the journey.
With no money and no contacts, I set off westward. My parents hoped to join the rest of my kin who had
Whispers of Fate
“Are you sure he has to go all the way to Hobbiton?” Primula Baggins asked her husband, Drogo. They were going on holiday for a few days and needed to make arrangements for their son, Frodo. The lad was only twelve years old, which is rather young for a hobbit, and he was an impish little fellow at that. He was beginning to make mischief wherever he went, much to the dismay of Primula and Drogo, who considered themselves respectable individuals. Which presented them with a problem.
Frodo’s reputation as a troublemaker was spreading among his relatives in Buckland. Whispers of the Baggins