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Frodo poured out more tea for Bilbo, and leaned back to take a sip of his own. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the sea-tangy air, and felt the Sun on his face. He was on the verge of dozing off, when a voice jerked him awake.
“My dear Bagginses!”
The two hobbits turned in delight to see their old friend, a frequent visitor to their little home, and were startled into silence at the sight of the one who accompanied him.
She was lovely, of course, more beautiful than any Elven maid, tall and radiant.
Gandalf gestured. “Frodo, Bilbo, my ‘sister’ Mirimë.”
She took one step towards Frodo, staring at him in astonishment, and said: “Tûk? But his eyes were brown.”
Frodo had risen without knowing it, and now felt his breath catch. He had not noticed Bilbo struggle to his feet, and was surprised to hear him speak.
“My lady, we are of Tookish descent. How do you know this?”
She gave a blinding smile, and then she grew smaller and smaller. Without losing any of her beauty, she grew rounder, her glistening dark copper hair grew curlier, and Frodo noticed that her feet were those of a hobbit.
He watched in speechless astonishment, as her curls became shot with silver, and lines of laughter appeared on her face, and those of sorrow as well. Her eyes were changing as the sea, turning from grey, to green, to blue. There was something very familiar in her face.
She took a second step, and held out her hands to them both.
“My name is Mirimë. Tûk called me ’Adamanta’; but you may call me ‘Grandmother’.”
Gandalf’s laughter rang out.
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