Story Fragment

[Mirimaran]

Hi all,

Another story fragment, but one that might figure in a larger story later. I post it because of the heroine of the tale, one Mistress Daffodil Underhill, late of Staddle, of whom her many journals and writings were bound in a collection by her relatives called, "The Leavings of Daffodil Underhill", has quite a hidden history in the last days of the Third Age. The collection of tales, poems, stories, and remembrances was put together sometime after her disappearance, which this author has dedicated many hours over the years researching. Again, just a fragment of one of her earliest adventures.

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The wheel of the year turns slow for the young, and the younger the observer, the slower the wheel goes, but finally, after much anticipation and excitement, the days passed as the seasons waxed and waned, and on the calender of Daffodil Underhill, a proper young hobbit of the village of Staddle, the wheel turned to the end of the month of October, where a date was circled in bright red ink (very improper for a hobbit, and most certainly improper for a hobbit of the female persuasion) caught the eye like the flash of a tempting worm to the fish, unaware of the sharp hook hidden within. This date was different from most on the Hobbit calender, and while it did involve food to a certain extent (as most any day does for a hobbit) the reason for the holiday was most improper. Old Took's Night was just a day away, and for this reason Daffodil Underhill undid her bright blue bow that bound thick dark ringlets and did a most improper jig in front of her grandmother's antique mirror, said to have been made ages ago by dwarves in some forgotten delve.

"Old Took's Night just a day away!
candy and corn, hie and hurray!
Come moonless night I will be swift
and come away with the stolen gift!"

Her laughter echoing throughout the modest hobbit-hole she called home, Daffodil looked again at the gold envelope that her father, the very model of a proper Hobbit, had handed to her over second-sies, his eyes glued more to the stacks of pancakes on his plate than anything the Post could deliver. It was the name on the envelope that caught her eye more than anything...

BAGGINS.

Oh, how many times her brothers had teased her on past Old Took's Nights with that name! Bilbo Baggins, the most queer of hobbits of the Shire, her distant kin, who took off with bearded dwarves to find treasure and fame far to the East. Now she held an envelope with her name in silver script, on the eve of Old Took's Night, and she knew it only meant one thing...

OLD TOOK'S NIGHT IN THE SHIRE!!!!

Eagerly she tore open the envelope and she took out the single sheet of parchment within. Unfolding it was like discovering a treasure trove in itself. She gazed at the ornateness of the lettering, and then read the invitation,

Young Mistress Daffodil Underhill of Staddle,

You are hereby invited and requested to attend the annual Old Took's Night Observance in Hobbiton, the Shire hosted and provided by Bilbo Baggins, Esq. and to introduce his recently bereaved nephew, Frodo Baggins, to which you are asked to accompany to the forementioned event. Please excuse the lateness of the invitation.

In a fancy script she made out the signature of 'The Baggins', as her father would say, always one to be impressed by money or high social standing, and then she noticed, just faintly, strange letters. She peered closer and then noticed that they were Elvish letters. Her heart raced and she held the letter to the light and made out a message, just for her...

Daffodil,

Please come to the Party! I don't know anyone here and I want to meet you at last!

Frodo

She knew Frodo only from letters, as her mother had insisted since she was seven that a proper hobbit corrospond as much as possible, and since her distant cousin Frodo was the same age, it seemed logical that the two would become great corrospondents. They had written for 5 years now, and as luck would have it, both had many shared interests. The Yule before, with all the Mid-Winter gifts she had recieved, one was from Frodo, a small book filled with translations from Elvish that he had gleaned from his uncle and other, more sylvan sources. Daffodil had been fascinated with the Fair Folk ever since spying a Travelling Company once when she was but a child, and an Elf Queen had stopped the Rade to marvel at a child so small. She had kissed Daffodil that day, and whispered something in her ear that she could remember, and yet could not, but still could remember how the Elf's golden hair felt in her small hands...

"Daffodil! There's a carriage parked outside our door! Are you supposed to be somewhere?" boomed her father from the pantry.

"I am on my way, father!" she exclaimed, her best dresses hastily stuffed in a travelling bag. She ran by and pecked him on the cheek, and as she climbed into the carriage, looked back and cried,

"I am off for the Shire!"

2. Overhill and Underhill

As usual, nothing is ever as easy as it appears, for Daffodil's mother stood with her arms spread wide in front of the huge imposing horses harnessed to the carriage and their master, a man of the Big Folk dressed in an old battered blue peaked cap and flowing grey robes, his beard like a wild thing, his eyes bright and flashing!

"Ho! You there! Not one foot of these beasts had better move my daughter one inch from her home before I am done, mind you!" cried Daffodil's mother, as the coachman grew indignant,

"I am pressed into service for this! Diller and Daffer!" he muttered, yet he produced a pipe from within his robes and lit it without benefit of match or flint and blew smoke rings that danced over his head.

Daffodil's mother flung open the carriage door and grabbed her arm.

"Daffodil! Look at you, your hair's a mess and you aren't even dressed to go to Bree, much less Hobbiton! Into the house!"

"Mother!" cried Daffodil, but she marched back into the house, accompanied by the snickers of her brothers, who had heard the commotion of the carriage and dropped their chores to see what was what.

"My stars and garters! To think that a daughter of mine would be invited to the biggest Old Took's Night party of the season and she hasn't the good hobbit sense to pack a decent dress, or wash her face!"

Daffodil was dragged into her mother's bedroom and the door was slammed. Minutes stretched into an hour, then two, and then after lunch had been served (and even the coachman had shared a cup of blackberry tea and a biscuit or two with Daffodil's father) Daffodil's mother emerged.

"Now, my dear husband, our daughter is now presentable to our distant kin. Daffodil!"

Daffodil emerged from the bedroom, her hair tied up in a big red ribbon, wearing a travelling dress popular in her mother's youth, a heavy cloak around her shoulders. She carried two big bags.

"Now, for the finishing touch!" said her mother, as she plopped a wide brimmed hat on Daffodil's head.

"Mother! I shant be in the Wild! Fiddle and faddle!"

"Daffodil!" boomed her father, "language!"

Red-faced, Daffodil apologized. Her father then handed her a small bag of coins.

"Shire pennies, for your travel", he said, "and to buy your brothers gifts. Now, off you go, I might want to rent your room while you are away."

She smiled at his small joke and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, father", she said.

"Now Daffodil, remember these Baggins are not quite right, but have money, which makes them righter than others. You will be their guest for the festivites, so be on your best behavior, no stories or boy beating."

"Mother! I am twelve, I think I can behave. Now please, the coachman is waiting!"

Indeed, the coachman took Daffodil's bags and threw them on top of the carriage, and with one arm, gathered her into the cab of the coach and shut the door.

"My dear hobbits, goodbyes and farewells to all!" he cried and then with a strange word the horses took to hoof. Daffodil waved from the coach and her family watched till the carriage was far out of sight. Then her father said,

"Is it time for tea?"

[Eric C]

Delightful! I steal smiles wherever I can lately and that was certainly worth a smile.

[Greg]

Agreed, Eric! A fun read! I hardly ever visit other sites for short fantasy stories anymore...I can get my fill of passing readings right here! What a wonderful place!

[kaelln]

I finally had time to read this -- what fun!

[Peter Remling]

I too just read this and the other tale featuring Daffodil, excellent read. I like the little insight into the casual life of the wee folk.