Work Text:
Nora Tiller, like all the lads and lasses in Bree-land, grew up with the tales of the Little Folk.
Hobbits, as they liked to be known, were no stranger to her. When she clutched onto her mother’s skirts at the Market, they too would be out in full swing along with the other Bree-folk, bartering among the merchants or bustling through the towering crowds with the day’s errands. When the festivals arrived, she could always count on a hobbit to be the first to dance, or to be milling by the food table discussing the intricacies of proper vegetable harvesting with the cooks.