The news had reached her while she was washing up the supper dishes that Benia had been seen in town. It had been so long ago, another lifetime really since Gilly had any dealings with the foreigner. She didn’t particularly want to become ensnared again in the world outside the Shire, but still she was curious, though with deep reservations.
By the time she had reached the common room she was in an agitated state, hoping that she might go by unnoticed. She was a middle-aged hobbit now, respectable, married, graying. Benia represented the wilds, something dangerous, a way of life that still held an inexplicable draw to Gilly.
But she had traveled so far to reach Hobbiton. Gilly simply couldn’t let her own misgivings interfere with Burrows hospitality. It wasn’t right. After all the past was the past. What could happen?
[ May 19, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]
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