Rosie had done everything in her power to make Bag End as safe and as alluring a home as that cottage in the woods. Smials were too solid and sensible for fairy-tales, really, but they'd do in a pinch. Rosie was skilled at improvising.
So when her sleep was disturbed one night by a frantic banging on the window, she threw open the shutters and pulled her shawl in close around her shoulders against the wind. Frodo and Sam shifted irritably in bed at the sudden drop in temperature but didn't wake, thank goodness.
"We were playing down where the old mill used to stand," Rose-lass told her mother through chattering teeth. "The others are still down there."
Rosie paused on her way towards the front door, stopping to pluck one of the long-coveted silver teaspoons from the draining board in the kitchen before joining Rose-lass outside.
"What on earth were you doing out at this hour, anyway?" she snapped, worried, hurrying down the hill to Bywater. Rose-lass bit back a sob.
"It was a treasure hunt, we'd buried some mathoms in the soft mud last week and we were going to dig them up."
"You're twelve, girl, surely you've more sense in your head than that. Who else was with you?"
"Elly and Fro and Merry and Pip... they told me they play this every year at this time, and I was finally old enough." The girl gulped unhappily.
"Are they all right?"
"I don't know! I couldn't find them, my candle went out, and there was howling, Mum. I fell over and knocked my head and scratched my elbow, and then I got so frightened I ran home."
Rosie stopped mid-stride. "Are you all right?"
"What? Yes, I'm fine, I just got a bit stunned from the fall."
"Let me see your elbow, then."
Puzzled, Rose-lass held her arm out, her brown play-dress damp with dew. The fabric of her sleeve was torn, revealing bloodied skin. To the eye of a child, it did indeed look like a nasty fall, perhaps onto a sharp stick.
Rosie drew out the little silver spoon and pressed it to the wound. Rose-lass recoiled with a hiss of pain, drawing her arm back sharply.
"Ouch! That was hot!"
Rosie closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and seemed to reach within herself for some peace or strength.
"Your brothers and sisters are all right, Rose, don't worry about them anymore. There's never been more than one attack in a night, not in all the years folk round these parts remember. Now you go back up home while I dig them out of whatever hiding spot they've found, and wake your Sam-dad and Uncle Frodo. In the morning, you're going to have a talk with your Uncle Nick."
~