'My sons, are you telling me that you and the Rangers lost the trail of the orc band? Despite there being five hundred of them, led by a Great Goblin the size of a Stone Troll?'

'Yes Father.’ Elrohir fixed his attention on Elrond's smooth polished floorboards.

'So you went after and caught them before they could do any harm?'

'Well, the truth is, we assumed that they would head due south making for the Breelands. And the thought of what might happen there really spurred us on, so we took a short cut.'

Elladan's voice sounded as if he'd been caught shaving Glorfindel's eyebrows for the first time in two thousand years.

'And Chief Arassuil was doubtless concerned about the Prancing Pony and its contents,' commented his father in the kind of neutral voice it had taken 2 ages of the world to perfect.

'But we never dreamed they'd head south-west towards the Halflings, the Periannath,' Elrohir sounded slightly desperate, 'I mean's there's just a few fields there - why would they go that way?’

'They call themselves hobbits...' muttered Elladan irrelevantly.

'You are telling me that 500 orcs have invaded the Shire?' Six thousand years of practice could not keep Elrond's voice neutral now. ' Erestor, we're going to have refugees. Glorfindel, what kind of a force can we raise in the next few days to face that opposition? Can we get word to Cirdan and co-ordinate our attack?’

'Father,' Elrohir's voice was nearly a whisper, but it served to interrupt Elrond's flow of commands, 'there won't be any refugees.'

'What do you mean?’

'Well, when we got to Bree and everything was quiet, the Rangers tried to retrace their steps to find the orc trail, and Elladan and I headed along the west road to see any sign of the orcs. We got beyond the Baranduin, and thought we'd warn the halflings they'd need to flee. But somehow they'd heard about the orcs before we got there.'

'So they'd fled already?'

'The villages were full of children and the elderly, but all the males and many of the women had gone away.'

'Gone where?' Elrond's voice sounded strangely rough, his throat suddenly dried like a raindrop in the Harad sun. 'Surely, they didn't flee south and abandon their children. I know they are not warriors but this would be a cowardly act beyond telling'

'They hadn't gone south, they'd gone north' Elladan took up the story.

'But that would take them right into the path of the orcs.' Erestor sounded both puzzled and worried.

'Oh yes,' said Elladan, 'they knew where they were going and what they'd find there. They meant to fight.'

All other sounds seemed to cease as Elladan continued. Moisture seemed to form around the eyes of Elrond and Erestor. Glorfindel sat utterly upright, staring at the twins, but gently nodding his head.

'So we raced after the halflings..er hobbits and tried to catch them. We knew they'd be utterly slaughtered by that number of orcs, and we were desperate to get there and persuade them to flee, and let us and the Rangers deal with the orcs.'

'But they wouldn't, would they,' said Glorfindel quietly, 'don't you remember the Battle of Fornost?'

'Easy to be brave when you've got a Balrog-slayer on a white horse posing next to you.'

Erestor suddenly realised he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. 'Still, I suppose you and Elrohir had the same effect.....' Erestor tailed away as his heightened elvish sensitivities told him he was only making matters worse.

'We had no effect. We got there too late. We saw the battle from a little way away but it was all over by the time we were close enough to talk.' If Elladan's voice was neutral before, it had become utterly toneless.

'What happened? Did you have to cut your way clear of the orcs? Are you all right? Should I call for a healer?' Elrond’s paternal anxiety overcame his irritation with his sons.

'We were in no danger from the orcs,' Elrohir sounded almost as if something was amusing him, 'only from a thousand hobbits with pitchforks, slings and bows, all intent on slaughtering the next 'big person' that trespassed on their fields.'

'What? You mean.....' Erestor looked as if he would faint. Glorfindel was already smiling.

'The orcs came across the open country north of the Shire, but slowed up when they got to the small fields. If you’ve ever tried to walk across a wet field where cows are grazing you’ll know how their hooves cut up the grass and turn it into an exhausting boggy morass. Anyway, once the orcs got through this they thought they had the hobbits cornered in the next field, a large cow pasture between two woods. The Great Goblin roared and jeered when he saw two hundred hobbits and a carthorse just a few hundred yards across the grass. And well he might - it was Golfimbul from Mount Gram near Angmar'

'Golfimbul this far south....' whispered Erestor ' we are in for difficult times. We may need help from Lorien or Thranduil'

'Err, maybe, maybe not…' Now Elladan seemed more composed and took over the story.

Elrond looked puzzled 'I thought you said a thousand hobbits?'

'I did. As I said, we got there in time to see this but not to participate. It looked to us, and Golfimbul, as if the hobbits were horribly outnumbered. Golfimbul pointed at them and commanded a charge. Then everything went completely mad!'

'The other hobbits were in the woods weren't they?’ Glorfindel's smile was increasing by the second.

'Yes. And the second Golfimbul called the charge, the orcs were engulfed from both sides by arrows, stones, rocks, slingshots, anything you can think of. I swear I saw a young hobbit in a tree felling two orcs by throwing cooking apples at them.'

'Cooking apples...' After thousands of years, Elrond's famed self-control was possibly going to be lost for the second time in a few minutes.

'Yes, they were definitely hard and green. Apparently a specialty of the Blacksmith's Grandmother I was told afterwards. And the hobbits are astonishingly accurate with any arrow, stone or apple.'

'Just like at Fornost,’ smiled Glorfindel, 'nearly as accurate as us, just not quite as fast to re-load.'

'But you can't defeat five hundred orcs by throwing apples at them!' Erestor sounded as if the twins were telling one of the famous stories of their youth, usually after being caught doing something they'd been told expressly not to.

‘Well, quite a lot of them were distracted by the herd of cows, especially when there turned out to be an angry bull in there with them. Apparently some of the farmers can control the animals by imitating their cries and the leader of the hobbits was one of these. The orcs were slipping and falling everywhere and a good many were trampled by the bull. Some of them tried to shoot it, but that just made it angry – it charged them and the archers were all crushed underfoot … I mean under hoof.’ Elladan paused for a moment before continuing.

‘But the best is yet to come. Remember I said there was a cart-horse? A huge great thing they've specially bred for pulling ploughs through rough ground. Well, the leader of the hobbits climbed on top of it - it took a ladder and three of the others to help, but he got up there and could ride it!'

'A hobbit riding a Shire horse…' Elrond's self control was back in place by the closest of margins.

'Yes, and he rode it straight at Golfimbul. You see when the arrows and, er 'missiles', started, the other orcs turned to see where they coming from and left him standing in the middle of the field by himself. And the hobbit rode the horse straight at him, brushing the other orcs out of the way.'

'And trampled him?' Erestor looked both relieved at the demise of the infamous Golfimbul, and pleased to have anticipated the climax of Elladan's story.

'Not quite,'

Elladan had lost his composure now and Elrohir intervened, 'the hobbit leader was carrying a strange weapon - he called it a club but it was about a yard long with a thin shaft and a great wood and metal lump on the end. He said he was going to use it to drive the goblins from the Shire. He literally smashed their heads with it as he rode towards Golfimbul. We must have been four hundred yards away and we could hear him shouting as he hit them. One, Two, Three, and FOUR! as he hit Golfimbul right flush on the side of the helmet.'

'And that was a stroke worthy of the mightiest warrior! I know Tuor could cut an orc's head with a single blow but that was with an axe not a club or 'driver' or whatever. And Tuor was the mightiest of the Edain of the Elder days not a hobbit farmer. I've never seen anything like this....'Elrohir paused

'You mean he clove the Great Goblin's Head right off?’ Even Glorfindel looked slightly surprised now.

'Yes, and it didn't just fall there, it flew through the air, across the field, bounced a couple of times and rolled into a rabbit hole - it seemed to go a hundred yards or so!"

'Surely not that far?’ said Elrond shaking his head

'Well it looked like it to us. The hobbit said it was a new club he'd just got and he was striking really well with it. Anyway, when the other orcs heard the noise of the blow they turned just in time to see a mad hobbit on a Shire horse shouting 'Got him! Down the hole in one stroke' charging at them. At first they just stood there in utter astonishment looking at Golfimbul’s body. When he started knocking more orcs, with or without heads, into the air like birds, they started to panic. But what really finished them off was a voice from the back of the hobbit army calling ‘the Eagles are coming’ – which was a complete bluff as far as I could see.

Anyway it was too much for the remaining orcs and they just about all turned and fled. Of course that took them past the woods where the archers were and through the part of the field where the bull was. So hardly any got clear away. We met some of the Rangers in Bree on our way home. They told us that Arasuill had intercepted a small band of 30 or 40 orcs heading north and had finished them off. Apparently he thought that was the main band and we'd been making a fuss over nothing - when we said there were 500 orcs we were clearly exaggerating.'

'So you didn't tell him about the hobbits?'

'Well we tried but we'd hardly got into the story when we saw him looking at us as if we were mad and so we decided not to insist....'

'How surprising,' muttered Erestor, 'I mean halfling farmers defeating five hundred orcs from Mount Gram, killing four fifths of them, and knocking the Great Goblin's head into a Rabbit Hole. You make it sound like some sort of game! I suppose all the hobbit children are going round pretending to knock goblin heads into holes....'

'Funny you should say that..' started Elrohir, and then winced as his twin kicked him under the table.

‘Did you meet this remarkable hobbit?’ asked Elrond

'I now think they're all remarkable - but we did talk to him eventually. As I've said it was a little tricky because at first they thought we were more 'big people'. And we said we were elves, but they said they knew elves were tall blonde creatures, wondrously fair, who rode white horses, and who could drive enemies away just by going all bright and shiny. And we just looked ordinary so we couldn't be proper elves.'

'Glorfindel, what exactly did you do at the Battle of Fornost?' Elladan interrupted his twin. They'd known something had happened but their father and Erestor had never told them the details.

'So how did you stop the hobbits ah, 'driving' you?’ asked Glorfindel, ignoring Elladan.

‘We had to say that we were only half elves and that our sister got all the good looks in our family and we spoke some words of Quenya to them… “Elen sila lúmen omentielvo”… but they didn't really believe us until a stunned orc woke up and Elladan shot it before it could kill one of the young hobbits. Then they wanted to know if it was one of those magic bows that never ran out of arrows. We said only fair blonde elves have those and we needed to get our arrows back after firing. Anyway the hobbit showed us his 'driver' and we got talking about apples and things became more friendly.'

'So tell us about the hobbit.' said Erestor.

'Well, the nearest thing the hobbits have to a king or lord is called the Thain. He's the head of the most important family in the Shire - their family name is Took. And although they are basically simple rather rustic farmers, for some reason they all have rather splendid forenames like Isengrim and Ferdibrand. Its hard not to smile when a three foot six red faced hobbit with a handkerchief tied on his head to keep the sun off, tells you he is the third cousin twice removed of the Thain and his forename is Hildigard. At least it would be if you hadn't just seen him kill three orcs with a pitchfork. Anyway, the leader of the hobbits is the younger brother of the Thain and he is called Bandobras Took - although some of the others were already laughing and calling him ‘Bullroarer’. He's the tallest hobbit I've seen, and he seems to like wearing rather bright and garish clothing (checked trousers and a pink waistcoat!) but he's otherwise quite ordinary. You would never dream, to look at him, what he could do to those orcs! I mean he killed 18 of them by himself! And when I said that was a feat worthy of some of the mighty warriors of old he just said, "Oh no, master it took me 72 blows to get those goblins and I'm sure I could have done it in less than that." ‘

'You know I think we could learn from these hobbits,' added Elladan, 'we Elves do tend to think that mighty warriors have to look magnificent, you know, white horse, green banner and everything...’

'Careful…' came the voice of Glorfindel.

‘...and yet when the enemy thinks you look ordinary, or contemptible, it's a real shock to them when they discover there's 'more than meets the eye'. Part of the reason the orcs fled so quickly was that they were expecting an easy victory. And then they discovered their mistake. Too late! Perhaps we should look more like farmers and less like 'wondrous beings' when we go to fight orcs.'

'You mean Glorfindel in checked trousers and a pink waistcoat,' said Elrohir catching on quickly, 'and we could give him a 'driver' to fight with, make his face all red with hobbit apple brandy, and make him ride a carthorse. And then see whether he could beat 18 orcs in 72 strokes...'

'I'm sorry,' said Glorfindel, 'I can see you think it would be a great sport, but its just not going to catch on... I mean, clothing like that. Really!'

'Oh, I wouldn't be certain about that,’ came a new voice,' there's a lot to be said for disguising your true capabilities.'

'Mithrandir!' The elves had not heard the grey figure walk softly into Elrond's office. 'Did you hear this ludicrous but amazing story of my sons?’

'I did indeed, Lord Elrond,' came the reply, 'and it intrigues me. I haven't even thought about the hobbits for many a year. I remember helping them when they first came to Arnor, and I remember Glorfindel telling me about them at the battle of Fornost, but I haven't stopped to talk to any in their lands on the West Road for a thousand years or more. But you know, now I think I might just do that...'

'Well, just be careful when you approach these rather dangerous creatures, Mithrandir,' laughed Erestor, 'you have to admit you look even less like a certain Golden elf than the twins do. Beware of pitchforks and the like!'

'Oh don't worry about me,' replied Mithrandir, ' I can look after myself quite adequately. Ah, what's the phrase? Oh yes, 'more than meets the eye' that was it! A most apt expression, really, most apt.'

I’ve been fascinated by hobbits ever since I first read The Hobbit more than 30 years ago. For me that first reading had a bigger impact even than my subsequent encounter with LOTR. I think it was the ‘unexplained vistas’ as Tolkien put it (Moria, the Necromancer, the Bright-elves and Deep-elves) that the story went past so fleetingly and tantalizingly. As the professor intended, he’d written an entire mythology not just a simple novel.

While fan-fiction has explored many of the unexplained vistas from LOTR, there are still a few in the Hobbit that no one has touched on – who was King Bladorthin? But my biggest interest lies in Hobbit history. How did Gandalf become friendly with Gerontius? What happened to the ‘Tooks who went on adventures’? How much did the ‘serious’ races of Middle-earth (the Elves, Dúnedain, Dwarves etc) know about these small farmers west of Bree?

I’ve particularly enjoyed the ‘hobbit-based’ stories of Larner, Dreamflower, Jay of Lasgalen, and Anglachel. And I was delighted to see the depiction of hobbits in Zimraphel’s story about the Battle of Fornost Not for Pride Alone, which is indirectly referred to in my story. To my mind, the glaring omission in hobbit based fan-fiction is Bandobras Took. Now I know that the Good Professor may well have put in the story about Bullroarer and Golfimbul as a light-hearted aside in the story. And I guess we’re not really supposed to take the invention of Golf all that seriously. The fact remains that it is canon and Bandobras is mentioned in LOTR (as the hobbit that Merry and Pippin surpass in height). But it is intriguing that the Tale of the Years mentions nothing in hobbit history for almost one thousand years until the Battle of Greenfields followed just eleven years later by Gandalf helping the hobbits in the Fell winter. Surely these two events must have been linked? After all we don’t know when Gandalf first started to notice the hobbits, just that he was friends with the Old Took.

So I set out to write a story about the Battle of Greenfields from a non-hobbit point of view. This is long before any elves, men or wizards suspected there might be anything unusual about hobbits or the Shire. There was no guard around it like there was in Aragorn’s day. And while the Rangers and the sons of Elrond felt a duty to protect ‘simple folk’ their main focus might well have been on Bree and the lands there about. Elrond knows the hobbits are there, but many of the others have forgotten or never known much about the Shire. Only Glorfindel remembers them at the Battle of Fornost.

And I tried (I really did) to keep it serious and not too flippant. When Elrond hears that a force of Orcs has invaded the Shire he is bound to expect that the hobbits will be terrified and must flee or be massacred. But of course that’s not what happened. So I tried to construct a battle scenario that would allow hobbits to defeat much larger and more war-like orcs. Some kind of ambush (like in the Scouring of the Shire) seemed likely. And then having the sons of Elrond witness the battle but to be unable to help and be somewhat embarrassed about it might explain why the battle wasn’t widely known outside the Shire. (Un)fortunately humorous elements just kept creeping in when I tried to describe the Battle – and I’m really sorry about the golfing references…… And I implied the Chief of he Dúnedain of Arnor likes his beer too much. (Well, they can’t all have been perfect like Aragorn…) My only defence is that I must have been reading too much Terry Pratchett lately.

So perhaps someone will take up the challenge of writing a ‘non-flippant’ account of the Battle of Greenfields. Perhaps from a hobbit POV? Could get quite angsty and dark as they decide to fight, and then have to deal with the consequences (bereavement, post traumatic stress etc). Reviews and feedback much appreciated!

We move forward in time to late in the year 3019. Elrond has just called his sons into his office.

‘My sons, I’m afraid we’ve had some rather serious news from the Shire….Do you remember that we saw Saruman and Wormtongue in Dunland, on our return from Gondor this summer?’ Elrond’s face was gravity itself.

‘Of course, father. Why, what has happened?’ The twins’ features showed curiosity rather than alarm.

‘Well after seeing us, he seems to have diverted North West and headed straight to the Shire’

‘But why?’ Elladan sounded puzzled ‘ he didn’t really have much to do with the hobbits did he? I mean we know he was jealous of Gandalf, and despised the Rohirrim, but all the hobbits did was…’

‘Destroy the one thing he wanted in all of Middle-earth, and instigated the destruction of Isengard by the Ents.’ Elrond completed the sentence for his son.

‘Oh’ Elladan’s characteristic verbal fluency evaporated, like a raindrop in the Harad sun, as he considered the implications of Elrond’s comment.

‘Saruman and Wormtongue’, Elrohir almost seemed to be thinking out loud. ‘Gandalf said he could do something small and mean. But they are both aged in body now, they wouldn’t be capable of doing too much harm, would they, Father?’

‘Aged indeed, but given strength by malice, and determined to inflict as much revenge on the hobbits as he could, on them, and on their houses and their land. And especially on the ‘Travellers’ Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin’

Elladan’s face suddenly brightened. ‘But its all right, the travellers returned to Bree and the Shire with Gandalf. We know he can master Saruman, we saw him break his staff at Isengard’

‘Gandalf did not go to the Shire. He left the four hobbits after Bree to visit Bombadil. They returned to the Shire alone, not knowing Saruman was there.’

‘And not knowing that Saruman had a group of about two hundred ruffians, thugs and worse, lurking in and around the southern edges of the Shire’ came a new voice. A tall dark haired Elf appeared carrying a sword. It took the twins a moment to realize Erestor was dressed for warfare.

‘Worse?’ queried Elrohir.

‘Worse. Some of them are black blooded. Saruman bred orcs and men somehow to make half breed creatures, filled with evil and greed, but able to stand the light.’ Erestor’s seriousness easily matched that of Elrond.

‘200 orcs in the Shire! And the Dúnedain are still in Gondor - the Ringbearer is unprotected! Father, we will deal with this right away. Erestor, will you ride with us? Where is Glorfindel? How many horsemen can we muster immediately? To arms, Riders of Rivendell!’

A few months of peace could not slow an Age of instinctive reactions to the word ‘orcs’. Chairs flew across the floor, as the twins leaped up shouting orders and instructions. Startled Elves started to appear from the corridors of Rivendell, some carrying hastily gathered swords or bows. Elrond’s office filled quickly, and soon the throng overflowed to the corridor outside.

Somewhat curiously, Elrond sat impassively during this display of military urgency, while a close observer might have noticed the tiniest twitching around Erestor’s mouth. Perhaps fortunately for Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir could not be said to count as ‘close observers’ at that precise moment.

As the noise of questions, explanations, orders and acknowledgements, filled his office, the Lord of Rivendell calmly raised his hand. Slowly, the room became quiet.

‘Please everyone, compose yourselves for a moment; it is important you hear the rest of the message – you haven’t even asked who it was from, or how it ended. There were two messages, one from the Shire itself, and one from Gandalf. I believe you may be interested in his words in particular.’

‘Yes, father, tell us! Does he have news of the hobbits? Did he go to help them fight Saruman and the orcs?’

‘Well, my sons, Gandalf sent us a short message that instantly told us the outcome of events in the Shire. A short message indeed, of just five words. A simple phrase, but you might just remember the circumstances when it was first used. I recall two riders of Rivendell giving Erestor, and me, rather the wrong impression about the outcome of a battle involving hobbits, and causing a certain amount of consternation. The only difference today is that the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, unlike then, and unlike some of you now, is unlikely to be sceptical about the news that hobbits are perfectly capable of dealing with problems in their own land. Indeed, they are warning us about escaped ruffians and offering us help in tracking them down! Let me see, when was it, that previous battle? Nearly two ennin past now, I believe?

‘Two ennin ago? That’s around 2730, or 2740?... A battle with hobbits? Five words? Oh…’

Elladan’s perfect Elven memory caused his fluent speech to dry up for the second time in a few minutes.

In the silence, nearly fifty acute pairs of Elven ears could hear Elrohir muttering quietly (but not nearly quietly enough):

‘More than meets the Eye, more than meets the eye……..they’ve done it again haven’t they!’