Benia’s smile had had as much a calming effect on Gilly as her words. Yes, Benia’s father, Jack Nightshade was a native of Bree. And true as it was, the hobbit couldn’t imagine Mr. Jack claiming any town as home. He had lived in so many regions. But he did love tales and had a large store of them himself. Gilly had remembered sitting with Benia by the fireside listening to him tell of his time among the Rohirrim and how his patrol had captured Benia’s mother, Benia the Fair, and her brothers, a remnant of a powerful clan from the southern deserts. It was an event that shaped the rest of his life.
But Benia and her family had been living in Bree before arriving in the Shire searching for a safe haven. Gilly had brought them home to her family’s farm hoping that her parents would allow them to stay until the danger of their discovery by their southern pursuers past. It had caused quite on uproar at home but they had been allowed to stay, Gilly’s parents rising to the cause after much deliberation.
How could Gilly’s recent life compare to that? Her stories these days revolved around her children. Such as how her two sons picked all the vegetables in Primula Tunnely’s garden and she had to stay up all night helping her to can them. Or when little Sandy played postman with her love letters delivering Carl’s masterpieces up and down the street.
Gilly had returned Benia’s smile. “Oh, you might be as fond of a good tale as an average hobbit, but I’m just a good hobbit with and average tale! But still I have married and have been raising a few children among my cabbages and potatoes. I’ve three boys to keep me on my toes, and Carl, my husband. He’s a shopkeeper here in town. I’ve been a Banks for 19 years now and haven’t seen a real adventure since your family left. Well, we did have a few unwelcome visitors come calling for the Nightshades soon after your father had decided it was time to head out. They didn’t trouble us though, and we sent them on down the road.”
“ But it’s late enough without me making you doze off with my life story! How are you doing? I have heard the sad news about your mother and can’t help but wonder how your life has changed. And how is your father taking it? It was obvious they were deep feelings between them. Come let us find a quieter place to catch up on these matters.”
Having said this the old friends had adjourned to Benia’s rooms, to spend the early morning hours in private conversation.
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