lady_branwyn

The official "Six Days of Spooky" over at

spooky_arda is on hiatus this year, so this is an unofficial effort.

Title: No title yet
Rating: G
Source: LOTR
Characters: OCs (hobbits and Men)

After a few wrong turns, he found the place again. The little bay sidled and tossed her head as he tied the reins to the hitching post, so he gave her some hay and stroked her sturdy neck. He had grown rather fond of the beast. “A dry blanket and warm oats when we get back to the stable,” he promised her as he left.

The dark green hedge was neatly trimmed, and flowers lined the well-clipped paths--daisies and roses and others with names he had long ago forgotten. Markers carved from wood and stone stood in orderly rows, and above them, a green hillside was set with round doors but no windows.

A grey-haired Halfling in muddy work boots met him at the gate. “If you’re lookin’ for Hobbiton, it’s half a league down that lane, master. Whatever yer business is, I doubt it brings you here.”

“You’re the gravedigger?” Brandin asked.

“When there’s the need, master.” The Halfling spat on the ground. Brandin stood nearly twice his height and must have outweighed him by at least six stone, yet the gravedigger seemed unafraid.

“Show me where the rich folk are buried. And don’t try any tricks, or I’ll wring your scrawny neck.” In truth, this wasn’t a serious threat-—unlike some of Sharkey’s men, he wasn’t a killer by either trade or inclination.

The old Halfling led him to a row of ornate headstones. “Here’s your Bagginses and your Proudfeet and Chubbs, here and in the hillside. They do have a pretty spot.” Scowling, he plucked a withered flower from one of the graves.

“How deep do you bury ‘em?” Three or four feet at the most, Brandin guessed. The soil looked sandy and light. It wouldn’t take long to reach the coffins.

The gravedigger showed no sign of surprise at the question. He just shook his grey head. “Best to leave them be, master. They never done you no harm.”

“Shut up and start digging,” Brandin replied.