This is my first LOTR fic, and only my third fic ever, so please cut me a little slack:) As usual, I own nothing. If I did I would probably...well, you don't want to know what I'd do. This will most likely not be more than a one-shot, unless you really, really want more (which I doubt very seriously you do). Enjoy to the best of your ability!

He was an odd-looking mixed breed. It was easy to tell from a distance that he was Elvish, but he was short, hardly surpassing a Dwarf. He also had a full head of curly hair. A positively odd-looking mixed breed. He was looking lost and forlorn, standing in the midst of Bywater, looking to his left and right, as if deciding which way to go. Finally, a curious young hobbit who had been watching him approached and asked if he was lost.

"I'm not sure," was his reply. This answer confused the young hobbit. When the older hobbit, Elf, Dwarf, thing - let's just stick with mutt – saw this, he smiled and tried to explain. "My father used to tell me of his homeland, and he described it much like this. At least this is how I'd always imagined it." He paused, deep in thought.

"What are you?" The young hobbit knew it was impolite as soon as he had said it. He looked down shame-facedly. The Mutt just laughed.

"To be frank, I'm not really sure myself. My father was a hobbit and my mother was an Elf. Maybe I'm a Helf?" He chuckled to himself. Just then the young hobbit's mother called him to supper. He smiled at the Mutt and scampered away.

The Mutt went on his way. A few hours later he found himself once again lost and forlorn in Hobbiton. After waiting for a while, he saw the mayor locking up. The Mutt thought the he looked like the personable type, easy to get along with, and so decided to make his presence known.

"Excuse me," The Mayor turned.

"Would you be wantin' something?" the Mayor asked kindly, though he watched the Mutt through wary eyes.

"Yes, you see, I'm new in town," the Mutt replied, " and I was wondering if someone might tell me a little about the place." The Mayor eyed him, incredulous that someone - especially someone being part hobbit, as he supposed this thing to be - would not know about the Shire! But this mutt did look like he had an interesting story, so the Mayor said,

"If you don't mind, would you join me for dinner, Master...?"

"Fearan Peredhil," supplied the Mutt. Wandering spirit half-elven? Now there's a story if ever I heard one! thought the Mayor. "You are a gracious host hir-nin. Elen sila lummen omentielvo." Fearan bowed eloquently.

"My name is Samwise Gamgee." Sam stuck out his hand a little less eloquently, and Fearan grasped it firmly.

On their way home, Sam chattered on about Rosie, Elanor, every small doing of the smallest hobbit child, and so on and so forth. Fearan just listened with interest. By the time they reached Bag End, Fearan felt as if he already knew the place.

"Of course Rosie's not goin' to be expectin' company," Sam apologized, "So if you'll excuse me..." He hurried in the door to make Rosie ready. Fearan waited respectively, then, deciding they were probably ready by now, walked in to hear the last of Rosie's rant:

"- to invite someone to dinner, and the house looking like it usually does, why, I thought you knew better than that!" Just then she caught sight of Fearan. "Oh," she blushed, "I was just going to lay Elanor down for a nap..." She hurried out, but Fearan heard her whisper to Sam, "I thought you said he was a hobbit!" Fearan smiled. He was used to being mistaken by his Elven influence.

After a supper of none other than mushrooms, some potatoes, and other various vegetables from Sam's garden, the Mayor pushed back from the table and proceeded to say,

"Well, as you can prob'ly tell, I'm dyin' to hear your story. If you don't mind sharing it, we'd love to hear it." Even Rosie settled in to hear what she thought would be a good story. Fearan cleared his throat (a sure sign of a good, long story) and began.

"My father was born a hobbit in 1354 Shire Reckoning, and until he was 25, nothing peculiar happened. However, on the eve of his 25th birthday, he disappeared. His parents never saw him again, for they both died the following year in an accident.

"Unbeknownst to him, he had a younger brother. You see, growing up, my father had always been the worst kind of troublemaker" (the thought of young Merry and Pippin involuntarily came into Sam's mind) "and his parents feared he would be a bad influence on his brother, so they sent his younger brother to live with his cousins in the Great Smials. My father didn't know until right before he passed on that he had a brother.

"Anyways, when he left on his 25th birthday, he traveled to Rivendell, and fell in love with its beauty and serenity. He stayed there for 8 years.

"In the course of that time, he met an Elven maiden called Glinloth, and fell in love with her. But, being shy and unimposing, he only watched her from a distance, and therefore she never took notice of him.

"After 8 years had passed, he grew restless, and wished to move on. So, a few days after his coming of age, he set out for Mirkwood and the kingdom of Thranduil. He had many small adventures in the forest which I do not have time to tell, but finally he reached the kingdom. Not expecting to be known, my father was surprised to have the king welcome him. The king told him that a hobbit had once come to his kingdom, and sadly the king hadn't given him a warm welcome.

"My father and Thranduil liked each other immediately, and he stayed in Mirkwood for 5 years, helping the Elves fight off enemies. Therefore he became known as "Aiohtar", small warrior. He was also friends with Thranduil's son, and they made many a brave warrior very angry, and nearly got in hot water more than once.

"Finally, though, he began longing for Rivendell again. So, bidding Thranduil a hearty thanks and farewell, he set off, and arrived in Rivendell in the year 1393. But, what he didn't know, was that his fame had gone before him, he being one of very few hobbit warriors. So when he got to Rivendell, he was made much of.

"It was then that Glinloth began to take notice of him. But she thought that, he being so popular, would never notice her, and he, Aiohtar, couldn't get up the courage to tell her he loved her. Finally, though it took two years, he poured out his feelings to her, and they were married.

"I was born in 1397, and not much else happened. His older cousin came to Rivendell in 1402, though my father didn't know it was his cousin. I found that out.

"My mother was occasionally able to see future things. When I was 10, she told me that as I got older, I would not soon be happy to settle down, and she named me Fearan.

"My father and mother sailed across the sea 9 years ago, but before he did, my father told me many things. First, that for the past few years he had been yearning for his hometown, to see it again. Second, that my real name was Brego, and third, that I had an uncle, and it was up to me now to find him. And that is why I'm here. To find my uncle."

Sam and Rosie had sat spellbound through the whole story. "Well, I never," was all Sam could say.

"I was hoping," asked Fearan, "that, you being the mayor and all, would know quite a few hobbits here?"

"Why yes, I know most everyone here," replied Sam.

"And if he doesn't know someone, they know him," put in Rosie.

"Is that so? How come?"

"Well," Sam blushed a little, "9 years ago, me and 8 others went on a quest, if you follow me, and-" Fearan cut him off before he could finish:

"Were you the ones that destroyed the One Ring and saved the world? My father told me of you." He looked at Sam with wonder.

"Well I didn't do nothin'. It was all Mr. Frodo. Anyways, you said you wanted me to help you find your uncle?" said Sam, changing the subject.

'Yes, yes, so I did. Well, my father stayed with his cousins in the Great Smials until the aforementioned disappearance. He was actually more closely related to the Brandybucks, but he didn't have as much to do with them." Sam was thinking hard.

"What did you say his name was?"

"Aiohtar," replied Fearan.

"No," said Sam. 'I know that was the name the Elves gave him, but what was his given name?"

"Oh, it was, let's see, he only told me a few times..." Fearan thought hard. "Oh! Drilo! That's it! His last name escapes me though..."

"Wait!" Sam cut him off. He was thinking, and something was coming to him. Drilo. His parents died in an accident when he was 26, year 1390. He was cousins with Tooks and Brandybucks. He had one brother, 14 years younger, which means he would have been born in 1368. His older cousin came to Rivendell in 1402...

"Half a second," said Fearan, "It's coming...Baggins! that was it!"

"Baggins!" Sam shouted and jumped up. "Baggins, you say?" Fearan looked bewildered.

"I meant no harm."

"So you're sayin' that your grandfather's name was Drogo Baggins, your grandmother's name was Primula Baggins, and your uncle is Frodo Baggins!"

Now tell me truthfully: Did it surprise you at all or did you know all along?