Rosie awoke bathed in sunlight. She rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. She could smell bacon being cooked downstairs. Her beloved sister Polly sure could whip up a good cooked breakfast. Hurrying out of bed Rosie’s mouth began to water. She jumped down the stairs three at a time and rushed into the smoky kitchen.
”I thought this would get thee up young Rosie!” laughed her sister.
”I just love bacon! How can any hobbit live without bacon? Its surely is divinity!”
Polly just smiled and replied ”Well, fill your stomach and then hurry on down to Mr Brumble’s. There’s work to be done.”
Rosie devoured her bacon slowly, wishing to save every last taste. Rosie and Polly Bywater lived in Hobbiton. Their mother had died giving birth to Rosie twelve years ago and the young girls father had died shortly after of fever. Polly had looked after and raised Rosie alone. The Sisters were so close and would never be separated.
The young Bywaters earned their keep by helping out down at old Mr Brumble’s. He was a sour old hobbit and never had any anything better to do than complain about this and that. Rosie grew tired of hearing Mr Brumble’s complaints and loathed working for him. But Polly would not listen to her sister. They needed the money for food. Polly spent the days doing the housework and making the meals. She was like a mother to Rosie.
Rosie dashed out of the house. Not wanting to be late for old Mr Brumble. Polly called goodbye through the open kitchen window. She watched her little sister scurry down to lane. Times were hard for the children. Polly felt guilty about sending Rosie off to earn some money. She knew her sister pined to go out and play in the fields and wood of the Shire like the other small hobbits. She truly loved Rosie. But what could she do?
Rosie turned the corner. Suddenly she bumped straight into a tall figure. Looking up Rosie noticed the stranger was not a Hobbit. She gasped as she met eyes with an elf. The eleven maiden was extremely beautiful and a warm, sweet fragrance surrounded her. She was wearing a flowing silver gown and a shining crystal rested on her chest.
Rosie glanced down at her shabby, tattered dress which Polly had sewn for her feeling sullen. The elf spoke with a soft voice. ”I am sorry if I frightened you little one. My name is Aranel.”
”W… w… why are you here? Why is a beautiful elf like yourself in hobbiton?” questioned Rosie, a little afraid. She had never seen a real elf before. She often begged Polly to tell her of the elves when they were chatting in bed, but she had never actually seen one. Elves rarely came to the Shire; they mostly left the hobbits alone. Hobbits, you see, like to keep themselves to themselves and don’t like to know about the goings on in the rest of Middle Earth.
Aranel answered, ”I am looking for Polly Bywater. Do you know where I may find her?” Rosie was shocked. An elf looking for her sister? It was absurd. What was going on?
”She… she… she is my sister.” Replied Rosie still a little stunned. What did the strange eleven maiden want with her sister?
”I see. And do you know where I might find her? I know this may seem as a bit of a shock to you but this really is important. I need to speak to your sister as soon as possible.” Said Aranel urgently. Rosie didn’t know what else to do. Her heart was pounding beneath her stained dress. She starred into the strangers beautiful elven eyes and saw the pleading look. ”Follow me.” Rosie whispered.
Rosie turned and led the elf back along the path towards her house. She thought to herself feeling a little scared. She sensed something bad was going on. Why would an elf appear in Hobbiton asking for her sister if there wasn’t? The young Hobbit opened the stiff gate and walked back up the path to the front door. Polly opened the round door and stared wide-eyed at the elf standing outside the door.
”Aranel!” She gasped in amazement.