(OOC - Having been in the Bree-lands for a month or so, Angrinc has seen and learnt much that is new to him. In particular, he has come to know hobbits and their ways, and the scholar in him has demanded that he set down his observations and feelings for posterity. As he comes to meet more of the peoples of Middle-earth, he may well continue to chronicle his perceptions of each….)
As I find myself ever drawn to the Western lands of this Middle-earth, I have, for the first time in my life, met the strange people called hobbits.
I have, of course, heard of hobbits. Oft would Foresire Angrekkr speak of how he had seen Sir Baggins slay a dozen orcs, the Arkenstone bound to his brow, at the Sudden Battle, appearing suddenly from beneath them as if he were not there, so small was he and swift was his movement that they perceived him not. Yet I confess, oft had I believed these tales to be mere fancy or exaggeration, half-remembered musings on some beardless Dwarf in the fray or similar. Yet, as I travelled ever closer to Bree, so too did Hobbits appear ever more oft in rumour, in story, even in trade. And now, patrolling these distant watches, I find myself before Hobbits for the first time, and I confess amazement at them - amazement that has prompted these half-considered musings.
What is a Hobbit? A Hobbit is, in truth, either far smaller or far larger (and more solid) than I had ever pictured. Larger, for in my childhood dreams I had conceived them to be not of greater height than voles or birds, pixie-folk on errands of adventure. Smaller, for my right thought was as I described before, that Sir Baggins was merely a Man or Dwarf of unusual stature who had attracted legend by virtue of his strangeness.
A Hobbit is neither Man nor Dwarf nor pixie, though they bear some resemblance to all. I would guess them to be of kindred with us, closer than Dwarves or the Fair Folk, yet they are near in height to Dwarves, and share with them a love for the practical, for handiwork, and for good food. Yet they are shorter than even Dwarves, and far slighter (though prone to appearing overfed in their middle years), and possess a way in the wood and field that Dwarves do not. Perhaps they are to Dwarves what the Fair Folk are to us, but I know little enough of the latter and cannot proceed further than this guess.
A peculiarity of the Hobbit folk is that near all go barefoot, a habit exceedingly strange yet of no concern to them. For certain tasks they do wear boots or soles, but these are rare indeed, and even in heavy labour or engaged in travel will a hobbit refuse shoes.
Hobbits, despite their height, have an astonishing appetite and are able to consume much (for their size) and often (for anyone). They enjoy song, music and dance though of rustic and rural provenance, and are handy with craftsmanship, farming and the forge. Their houses and halls are of strange make, appearing to be little more than dug-out hillsides from the outer, yet within they are often finely (though simply) furnished and richly stocked with all manner of provisions and luxuries.
To their manner, the Hobbits may be the most close-minded folk I have yet encountered, in a way that borders upon the absurd. The Dwarf peoples too, are close-minded, yet in a very different sort. For the Dwarves are admittedly secretive, and do not change their minds willingly, yet they are keenly aware of what passes around them, even as they lament being a part of it. Yet for the Hobbits, they steadfastly refuse to engage in any discussion beyond their fields and woods, have scarce heard of Dale or the clouds of war; they are a small people bent solely upon their small world, and all that passes beyond it concerns them not.
Due to this wilful unconcern, I should feel scorn for them, I have scorned folk before for less. And yet, I find I cannot with these people. Nay, rather than be frustrated by them, I find that I enjoy them. Not merely as simpletons to be mocked (though to be sure, their antics and views often cause me great private mirth), but for being worthy and true and peace-loving folk in their own right. Perhaps it is for this reason that I have elected to record my impressions of them here - because I myself do not fully understand them. I do not fully understand why I like them so, and yet like them I do, exceedingly so.
Perhaps it is because of the peace which their lands hold, a deep and abiding innocence. Perhaps it is due to their own full concern with maintaining that generational tranquility. Perhaps it be their open joy, and their willingness to share in that joy with all and sundry. Be it what it may, I have discovered a deep and sudden love for these folk. Oft will I walk the gentle hills of one of their towns, Staddle, breathing the sweet air of their farms and seeing the rolling grassy slopes stretch away before me, like a forgotten corner of the Lost Lands.
Staddle in particular has become dear to me, and I will be content to remain in its bounds for now. It is not my home, nor are the Hobbits (and Men) that inhabit these lands my people. Yet their worth is great, and their tranquility a blessing to be protected. Were they my people, I could not do so, but they are not and so I can - and can in turn share in some portion of their happiness and content, if only for a season, as I make possible for them what was denied to me. It is ironic, and yet. And yet I now wonder if I would have it any other way.
