However,
in moving to The Shire, the agony was truly over. I found myself with
a collection of fellow hobbits who shared a common joy for the
greater things in life. We puffed from our pipes, drank plentiful
amounts of ale and wallowed in the sunshine that fell upon our
greener pastures. We all had an unspoken agreement that respect for
one another was the golden rule and what we dirtied we cleaned. It is
well known that Hobbits are partial to a good helping of finer
cuisine, therefore we could help ourselves to each other's
pantries, but only if we asked first.
One
day, unknowingly to all those in Hobbiton, the winds changed. A
shadow loomed, casting a despairing, suspicious mood over us all.
Before I knew it, food disappeared from my shelves before I got a
chance to eat it. Dirty plates were left to mess up the scullery and
breeches, and shirts and vests were continuously scattered about the
washhouse. Acres of rolling meadows were left to become unruly and
soon enough the state of disrepair was evident from those that dared
to drop by.
At
first fingers pointed towards Lodo. He seemed the likely suspect for
the trouble-stirring, for he always enjoyed the odd tipple... more an
over-indulgence of the ale. Because of this the other hobbits
wondered whether or not he could afford to buy food from the markets
each week, hence possibly thieving ours. Lodo was well-known for his
enjoyment of the jolly times, but he did not take to the menial tasks
of tidying up after himself. He gleefully boasted of the time when he
cleaned the wash tub once in a six month period. Although Lodo had
his minor flaws in an otherwise pleasant demeanour, the poor thing
did cop too much flack.
It was
then that I, T-Wise Gamgee, began to note that of all the Hobbits,
one tended to blame Lodo more so than was necessary. In the hope to
gain some wise council I spoke quietly to Gippin. After a series of
passing comments we concluded that indeed, this one particular hobbit
was notably adding to the glum atmosphere that had settled on The
Shire. In the strictest of confidence I spoke to young Lodo, begging
that he would answer honestly to my questions. It soon became clear
to me that Lodo, the lead-footed buffoon that he was, was only guilty
of making too much racket with his companions in his wing of our
abode.
It did
not explain the disappearance of food, nor did it justify the
deteriorating state of our dwellings. But I became concerned that
poor Lodo now feared the very thought of stepping foot into his own
home, one that we all paid equal amounts to live in. When I thought
about it more I realised, like Lodo, I often feared the thought of
walking too loudly down the hallways or shutting the grand, oak door
a smidge too hard. From the general mutterings of my fellow hobbits
we came to a stunning conclusion. We had a dark lord amidst the
ranks; Melron.
The Eye
of Melron surveyed Hobbiton with a wrath that would send us mere
Hobbits scuttling to cover, knees quivering, lumps in our throats and
a sickening feeling in the pit of our stomach. Fear would cripple
Lodo if he accidentally dropped a plate, as he braced himself for the
barrage of loathing revenge that would follow. In a bid to appease
the dire state of the household, Lodo, Gippin and I would endeavour
to be polite and friendly to Melron, but more often than not would
get a sour reply. We could do no right. Long gone were the days of
merrily puffing a pipe on the porch or having chums over for a pint
of ale. We were confined to the corners of The Shire in silent
misery.
One day
Gippin and T-Wise Gamgee decided enough was enough; Melron could have
her say in the dealings of The Shire but she couldn't control it.
T-Wise was particularly distraught after having to give away her
beloved companion George because it didn't please Melron to have
the creature around. On the first encounter, Gippin and T-Wise Gamgee
tried to speak in a mature manner as to how the Hobbits felt, but it
didn't go down too well. Fire and lava poured from the cracks in
Mount Doom as Melron exploded into a state of fury.
In the
weeks that followed, Gippin and T-Wise thought they may have had an
effect on Melron. Mount Doom was quieter than usual but there was
still the uneasy feeling of the Eye upon us. T-Wise thought it was
high time to do a spot of cleaning, purposefully leaving it to the
hour before noon, knowing that waking Melron was not a favourable
option. But soon enough the Eye had spotted T-Wise, steam and rocks
beginning to spill forth from the depths of the dark mountain. The
distressed T-Wise told the other Hobbits of the incident, to which
they agreed was completely unfair.
To make
a point, Gippin and T-Wise came home just before dawn broke on The
Shire, giggling raucously and jigging on the floorboards. Staring
straight into the Eye, fear had left them for sheer bravado in the
quest for greater good. The gates of Mordor opened, Melron came
striding out. Gippin and T-Wise continued to be merry, despite the
fear growing inside them.
The
battle of Middle Earth had begun as shouting, crying and arguing
echoed around the walls of Minas Tirith. Lava and sulphur continued
to pour heavily down the slopes of Mount Doom. Gippin broke into
tears in the face of fear as T-Wise tried in vain to defend their
point, but to no avail. Melron struck forth, throwing a glass of
water at T-Wise. Enraged cries were heard throughout The Shire as
Melron used her powers to throw Gippin's BMX bike to the ground.
Gippin and T-Wise stood on the battle field, T-Wise silent in shock,
water dripping from her face. Melron left Middle Earth in a fit of
angered cursing.
Lodo
was awakened by the onslaught of chaos to his beloved Shire, and
couldn't believe what his eyes could see. Not knowing whether or
not the Hobbits had won the fight for the greater good, they stood
there, arms around each other in companionable silence.
To this
day Melron can still be felt around The Shire, although not often
seen. The Hobbits still fear the Eye but are now closer than ever in
what is a common cause to not give in to evil. To help them to do so,
they sit on the front porch making up elaborate stories like this
one. It helps to take away from the fact that for some reason in a
flat of four, one has the final say as the other three actually shit
themselves wondering what is going to happen next. We're now on the
search to found our Undying Lands.
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