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Logs-Shire trip: A red meadow.. Stock Road ================================= +SHIRE TIME ================================= The bright beaming rays of the sun are obstructed by nothing but the fluffly white clouds. There are many hobbits out and about today, though this particular area seems to be deserted, save for a few hobbits wandering here and there. Yet there is one Halfling who is stationary. Freesia Brandybuck is sitting on a comfortable, grassy part of ground, with many assorted flowers scattered on the ground around her. She appears to be sorting them into neat little piles, and her progress suggests that she has been here for a while. She continues her meticulous work, with exact precision. Well, as much precision as possible for the undeniably clumsy hobbit. Not entirely alone is the hobbit, though it takes some moments for the new presence to show itself. Stepping through the trees from the side of the road- and some way south of where the halfling sits comes a grey shadow- one which seems to drift casually, and then appear suddenly on the road. With a pause, the hooded head is turned in all directions. Despite the weather, this stranger (for she is obviously a stranger to these lands) bears a cloak over her shoulders; fitting her tall and slender frame comfortably. Now, setting blue eyes on the road ahead, she starts off as one with a purpose- movements flowing and controlled; holding a certain unconcerned grace about them. On this beautiful sunny day, there is the sound of singing
from a short distance down the Stock road. It is the small, piping voice
of a very small and adventuresome hobbitling, singing as though she were
in a world all her own. Little Rilly Took suddenly appears around a bend
in the road, wildflowers woven in a garland around her curly head and
bunches more clutched in a small, chubby fist. The little one stops short,
falling silent at seeing the others on the road. The hobbit's face breaks into a wide grin of her own at the sight of the young Took. Freesia chuckles and raises her hand to wave at the hobbitling. Laughing good-naturedly at the sight of all the flowers in Rilla's hand, she beckons for the child to join her. "What are those flowers you've got there, Rilly?" she calls out. The Elves are unnoticed for the time being; all her attention is on her young company. Keen ears must the other cloaked stranger have, for she
stops on the road and moves across to the side in an instant- such subtle
movements merging together so that, had anyone upon the road previously
seen her, were they to look again, she would no longer be there, but by
the trees now, and hidden; remaining still and silent. The energetic little hobbitling wastes not a moment lingering
where she stands, but runs excitedly to join the elder hobbit lady, her
little furry feet pitter-patting on the road. One chubby hand reaches
up, as she runs, to keep her flower crown from falling from her head. An ear is surely attuned to the continuing conversation
between the two hobbit lasses, but the eyes of the once watched the halflings
are no longer trained upon them. Rather, the blue eyes peer out from beneath
a grey-green hood, sweeping out amidst the labyrinth of tree-boles, even
to espy the other cloak-clad figure. "Careful, careful!" Freesia exclaims, as Rilla very nearly tramples on her meticulously arranged flowers. She rises to her feet and studies the flowers in the Took's hand, analytically gazing at the flowers. Coming up with no idea as to what one of these flowers is, she stands up straight. "You know, I don't know what this one is. I'll have to get my book and tell you next time I see you..." she says, glancing at her pocketwatch. "Yikes...Yes, this will definitely have to wait. Must meet...someone..." she stops abruptly, blushing a bit and offering a wave and a muttered 'goodbye' before disappearing toward the Great Smials. And perhaps the other cloaked figure has felt the eyes
on her, for certainly her pace slows again and then diminshes so she stands
still and unmoving again. Crystalline blue eyes sweep the surrounds, though
they are unconcerned; merely searching. That gaze is drawn toward the
call and another is sung out in reply; imitating again the birds that
sing overhead though almost unbirdlike in its sound.. As the elder hobbit suddenly departs, the little one,
now all alone, sits down in the grass, mumbling to herself in a squeaky
little voice. "Bet it's that yucky boy again...." The whistle in return is surely noted, and eyes that
once lingered upon the other wandering one are removed and then returned
to the scene between the two lasses, watching as the flower-gathering
one departs and the younger-seeming one settles. Wider, then, turn the
blue eyes as they watch, as if in recognition of this little halfling. Hooded head is tilted to the side as the other figure watches the smaller hobbit sit and speak words to herself. Forward she moves now- slipping from one trunk to the other as nothing more than a fleeting shadow- a grey/blue smudge against the greens and browns of the woods. Closer now she comes, as one caught up in a game of watching and hiding.. At the words of the other she glances up and across then back again to the hobbit. She remains silent; finding no need to comment, yet. Something about the voice with its beautiful speech does
indeed strike a chord of memory within the little one, and a tiny gasp
is loosed upon the air. Peering around amidst the trees with brilliant
blue eyes wide and searching, a smile dimples the little Tookling's pink
cheeks. Dropping most of her flowers, the hobbit child clambers to her
feet and stands quite still. "In the trees I am best," replies the voice,
melodious and lilting as its wont, though its owner pauses a moment after
this, perhaps pondering if one of his words was not quite the best choice.
However, it is not long before more words follow, perhaps just after the
first have faded from the summer air. There comes a sound- one alike to song; melodious as it is, and it is laughter from the other figure. Perhaps the thought of being hurt by a hobbit caused such laughter, for in it were brief tones of mocking. Yet the laughter fades to silence again as the other speaks, and the figure clad in blue-grey lingers at the edge of the woods, though not so close to the road that she can be seen. To the flowers does her gaze move, and a sense of contemplation lingers about her, before finally her voice appears also- one considerate and gentle.. lilting as is the other's, and perhaps the words are directed not so much to the lass, but to the other figure, for presumably they are speaking of the same thing.. "I too wish to know of the red flowers.. I have seen them in this Shire before, though only once many years before." The little one squeaks in surprise as the second voice
speaks and blue child's eyes turn in its direction. A tiny hand lifts
her unfinished garland, resplendent with the scarlet blooms. "You
mean these ones?" Rilly asks in a still-quiet voice, her gaze moving
deeper among the trees. "They're my favoritest ones. I can show you..." Keen are the azure eyes of the cloaked edhel, and a frown
crosses his brow, brief and yet distinguishable, as his eyes slip toward
the laughing elleth. If her words are directed to him, he replies them
not nor lends any sort of visual answer to them. The little hobbit nods her curly head vigorously. "I
know just the ones you mean!" she squeaks excitedly. "They grow
in a big meadow! All over the place!" Bowed momentarily is the head of the grey-blue cloaked elleth, standing still by the trees. And she says nothing bit listens still- an immoving grey figure hugged close to the shadows of the trees on either side of her form and then she draws in a breath and speaks.. "Which meadow? Where is the meadow?" Comes the female voice again- from the opposite side of the road to the other; thus affirming that there are, infact, two voices. Though this one seems more comfortable with using the common-tongue, she stumbles still over certain words and now falls silent again- letting the question hang in what silence remains after she has finished speaking.. How the dark-blue eyes of the cloaked edhel brighten
at the words of the halfling lass! To a touch of motion he stirs, little
noise from it living to sound upon the air, but he does not emerge from
behind the bole, instead reining this seeming call to action. Excitement makes the hobbitling's already squeaky little
voice even more so. "In the meadow, the big one, over that way,"
Rilly tells them both. "It has a big, scary old oak tree that looks
like a monstner!" The hobbit child shivers a bit over this, but the
tiny smile returns swiftly. "I can show you, if you want!" A moment swiftly passes as the eyes of the hidden edhel
follow the direction that the little lass indicates. But, that is not
the only thing that he might note, for her demeanour and mien with regard
to this meadow he might measure as well, as best he can from his secretive
vantage. Bright childish laughter bounds again through the trees.
"No, no, no! Not very far!" the little one sing-songs happily.
"Miss Rowen.... she's a .... um... she's a healer. I help her gather
them lots of times." Rilly's bright blue eyes dance over their hiding
places and her small face suddenly becomes solemn. "But there's no
trees there for you to hide in...." "Not very far," Affirms the elleth from within
the trees; watching as the other figure departs and then toward the trees
for moments after, before shifting that gaze back to the hobbit- an amused
smile gracing her features as she watches the halfling's excitement; her
own stillness and silence a contrast to the hobbit lass' energy... The hobbit child senses the hidden one's uncertainty and seeks to reassure her. "It's okay. Mr. Frodo told me all about Fair Fo.... um... *elves*, " Rilly says straightening her tiny shoulders proudly, "After I saw that other one, an' no one believed me." The small features cloud a bit at the memory, but she adds hopefully, "Don't be scared." "He did, did he?" The stranger asks; that amused smile lingering in her voice, though only hinting at amusement now. Drawing on concern still, the figure breathes in deeply. "Very well, I shall walk with you to this meadow, to see the herbs that are red. However, I am not scared." the last words are said with an infusion of pride; as one offended by the assumption she would be afraid of a hobbit. There is a brief pause in which silence settles in the summer air, and then she steps forward in one graceful movement and out from the trees onto the road- hood still drawn and cloak concealing her frame and yet an energy enshrouds her form- one that appears almost as light. Blue eyes are fixed on the hobbit. "Greetings. Let us walk." The little halfling's gaze travels up and up and up to
rest on the tall and beautiful figure as it emerges from the trees. Rilly's
mouth forms into a soft little "Ohhh!" and she stares only a
second in awe, her blue eyes growing truly huge, and then her bright childish
chatter begins again. "Why, it's just this way!" she says happily,
pointing a tiny finger ahead of them. "Just round that bend over
there." The hood remains drawn still; shadowing her face, the
blue eyes that regard the hobbit child are the only features visible,
shining and warm and momentarily a smile touches them at Rilla's reaction.
Quickly the gaze is broken and moved to regard the road ahead. "Just
this way?" she asks- one eyebrow arching and that doubt resurfacing
in her voice. Turning around, then, the little one sets off toward the
east, in the direction of her home, pausing only now and again to make
sure the stranger is following. The figure follows obediently behind; making keen observation
of their surrounds- one eye constantly focused everywhere but on the hobbit,
and the other drifting between her leader and the woods. "So the little plants have peace to grow," Rilly
explains patiently. "Miss Rowen don't want the boys runnin an' chasin'
all over 'em." "Of course," The stranger says; nodding her
head at her own apparent ignorance. "It is good to know they are
looked after well, then. I am glad." "Okay, then, follow me!" the wee halfling squeaks, and she eagerly sets off again. The hill is steep for one so small, but Rilly determinedly leads the way, crawling, scrambling up on hands and knees all the way to the top. Once there, she looks down at the stranger, jumping up and down excitedly. "Hurry! Hurry! The meadow is here!" Up follows the Stranger without so much difficulty as her leader- her strides are longer and she seems able to spring along behind, and the hill certainly isn't so difficult a task for one of her size, and so easily she reaches the top moments after she has set off. "Here I am, and I have hurried," Though she shows little signs of such hurrying for her breathing is not forced nor strained. Now she lets her eyes dance over the scene before them- one finger extending forward; "Is that the meadow, there?" Indicating a place where a lone oak stands, gnarled and
ancient and, indeed, quite scary to the imagination of the little halfling,
Rilly directs the stranger's attention to a secluded area, lush and gently
nourished by a small, cool brook. Even from here, the ground has a deep
scarlet hue as the soft breeze tenderly caresses the fronds of the plants.
It is clear that much love and great care has been lavished upon them. For a moment, the stranger appears lost in a dream, and then she awakens- standing and observing the meadow before finally stepping forward, carefully and stooding to pluck one of the plants from the soil. "Would it be a problem if I took one of these; to bring them back to my companions. They are indeed a red herb, and I thank-you for bringing me.. though, they are not the red-herb for which I seek. This meadow is very beautiful though; I can see how well it has been kept a secret..." she says, voice calm and level; pleasent to the ears of most and containing an accent foreign to these parts. Pale and slender hands extend now from the folds of her cloak though they do not yet pull up a plant, and they will not unless given permission. Wee Rilly looks from the red plants to the stranger. Somehow,
the little one senses this one will do no harm to the small plants, and
she nods her curly head eagerly. "Of course! But are you sure they're
not the ones?" Fingers then wrap around the stalk of the plant and pull upward gently until it is free from the ground- poised now between thumb and forefinger, the stranger straightens to her full height, and lifts the plant so she can regard it and then (perhaps a little strangely), she smells it. Then, a sadly affirmative nod moves her head. "I am quite certain. And I do not doubt their quality as a herb for healing.. perhaps I shall keep it then, for often I help people feel better too.. but this is not the herb I was searching for. Still, with knowing the herb does not grow in this place, we at least have one less place in which we must look and for that, I am grateful for you showing me here." The little lass rises too, standing next to the beautiful
stranger. "I'm glad I could help. If you tell me more, I could ask
Miss Rowen!" "Hrmm.." Comes the thoughtful noise from beneath
the hood- sharp blue eyes regarding the hobbit lass at her side. "Well.
There is a certain herb.. it is red, like this... and it smells almost
like salt.. and it will only grow in the light- not where it is dark..
It is not very common, though I have seen it once before in the Shire,
that was many years ago. Perhaps your Miss Rowen will know of it, perhaps
not. It is called Caranlas." The stranger pauses her speech a moment;
thinking of what more there is to tell, but already she is interupted
with question. Bright blue eyes look up into the radiance. "It's
an awful hard name to say, don't you think?" Something about the way the names are spoken strikes the little hobbitling as a bit odd. Rilly's wee face brims with questions as she looks up into the shining visage. Curiosity now peked, the halfling smiles with mischief. "That's really not your name, is it?" she asks, though she asks as respectfully as she knows how. "I bet it's something more... um.... more pretty-sounding, because you're very pretty!" The tiny Tookling finishes with the smile becoming quite shy, uncertain, now, whether she has offended. Laughter again erupts from within the hood, and perhaps
the outline of Ailith's lips stretched wide into a smile can be seen.
Not laughter of mocking now, though partially amusement at the hobbit.
Laughter like bells; sing-song notes strung together to create such sounds
of joy that now fill the meadow.. certainly such sounds could not have
come from any human being.. The laughter does not last, however, but fades
into silence- and perhaps it is just as well, for should it continue too
long and people may begin to question... Rilly considers this solemnly, but she thinks the stranger's laughter one of the most beautiful things she's ever heard in her short life, and it nearly takes her breath away. But the curly head droops and she studies her toes. "I didn't mean to offend," she says softly. "I'm sorry..." Quiet laughter now, though it is more like whispering- perhaps she realises the effect her last outburst had upon the girl. "You have not offended me, Miss Rilly, though I have not yet been accused of making up my own name! Perhaps I should try it one day, though I don't know what name I would chose as my own. You need not be sorry; it is your nature to be curious- I see this in you certainly.." Briefly turning her eyes back to the meadow, finally it appears she has a question to ask the lass at her side. "Tell me, Miss Rilly, what do you wish to be when you are older? It seems as though you are learning much from your Rowen- will you do as she does and tend the sick?" The little one raises her head at the question, and seems to consider for a moment. At last Rilly shakes her head a little. "Miss Rowen is good and kind, but I want to visit the elves when I'm big," she says in a small and eager voice. "Just like Mr. Frodo." Great blue eyes look up, once again, into the brightness that veils the stranger's features. Unsure whether this, too, might give offense, the little halfling lowers her head again. "Hrmm.." there comes that thoughtful noise again; through pursed lips, and then momentarily there is silence- before Ailith's head is lifted and she appears to look into the distance. "I met an Elf once, when I was home...But they do not oft pass through.. Mr. Frodo- he has visited Elves, before? He must indeed be special." All the while her tone sounds rather reminiscent, until speaking of Frodo, when it turns to something of awe and quite obviously she appears impressed. "Perhaps one day, after I have returned home from the Shire, I too shall visit them, and perhaps I shall meet you there, young Rilly." Walking down a strange path a hobbit looks all around him hearing a small voice which sounds very known to him and another which doesn't. His curly hair bounces as he walks. Rotho spots a pair down the road squiting he takes a few more steps his bare feet making little sound as he goes. It can be seen he wears a small cloak as he left having not been able to sleep. As he nears he can see one is indeed his niece Rilla, but the other he can't draw even the faintest of clues. Not wanting to startle them he speaks before he gets to exactly where they are "Rilly my dear how long have you been out here?" His voice sounds almost of worry as he hadn't seen her the past night Rilly nods her head enthusiastically. "Mr. Frodo's my bestest friend," the hobbitling says again solemnly in a voice warm with affection. "He knows lots and lots about elves. He even speaks their language!" A tiny and enigmatic smile touches the child's soft lips as Ailith speaks of meeting her again while visiting the elves. Just as soon as it appears, though, it is hidden. And then, as the little one hears the voice of her Uncle, she squeaks and looks around. "Uncle Rothie?" Of course, Ailith needs no warning that another was coming
along the path. Perhaps it was the movement that intially caught her eye,
or even the sounds of his foot-falls, no matter how quiet they may have
been. Regardless, her attention was drawn there long before he spoke-
blue eyes looking him over once, slender hands moving to pull the hood
further over her head as if a chill were getting to her (and this is despite
the warm summer air, which has begun to cool due to the lengthening hour)..
The adult hobbit looks on to the both of them seeming to be confused yet he presses on till he reaches them. He nods his head fliping his hood off revealing a round face and eyes ears which slightly point to the ends and a small nose. Rotho doesn't speak for a moment, but looks at the strange tall figure. He shakes this off though answering his nieces question. "Yes it's me." He looks to the other and than speaks a warm smile coming to his face. "I am Rotho Took this youngins uncle." He lets a small chuckle come from his mouth, but than goes back to his smile and waits for a response. The little hobbitling squeaks again and blinks, uncertain
if she is about to be scolded. Slowly, she comes several steps closer
to her Uncle and hesitates, biting her soft lower lip and looking up at
him with wide blue eyes. Behind her back, a tiny hand waves secretly to
Ailith. The hooded-figure's head is tilted slightly to one side at the new introduction, though no smile finds its way to her blue eyes, and then, much inclinded still, that head is nodded. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Rotho Took, Uncle of Miss Rilly... I am Ailith..." The words are spoken cautiously as Rilly begins to make her leave.. Then, at the young lass' words, the elleth shakes her head lightly. "There is no need to be angry at her- she was doing me a service by bringing me to this meadow, and for that, I am greatly thankful..." The uncle hobbit smiles still "It is nice to meet you Ailith." The name doesn't roll off his toung yet it is said. Rotho turns to Rilla now his smile doesn't fade, but his brow lowers. "I am not cross I wish you would tell me though I worry about you so." He looks at her removing the cloak with the clasp undone he wraps it around Rilla and re does the clasp. The older hobbit looks back up to the big person, but can't find words at first. "I..." he stutters and than continues "I thank you for looking after my niece." His face is bright and still youthfull, and his toothy smile is show as he remains a pleasnt hobbit Snuggling into the cloak, the little one breathes a deep sigh of relief, her great blue eyes studying the two of them from deep within its folds. "Good-bye Miss Ailith!" comes the tiny muffled voice. "It was very nice to meet you..." And at the words, once again, the small enigmatic smile returns to the soft pink lips, though the child thinks it well hidden within the enfolding garment. A wee dimpled hand slips into the larger one of the elder hobbit, and the little fingers of the other wiggle in a wave. Another nod is directed toward the Uncle-Hobbit. "It is no problem; she has done me a great favour in her deed..I do hope I get the opportunity to see her again before our caravan departs Shire," and here her hold of the common-tongue has finally begun to slip. An appologetic smile graces her features momentarily, and she turns her attantion entirely to Rilla. "It was nice to meet you too, Miss Rilly. I hope your roads are long and your..cakes, sweet.. I too had best return to my camp, for I have lingered here much longer than I had expected..." And, with a nod to the both of them, she takes a step backward and starts down the hill, turning once more to fix those brilliant blue eyes the younger hobbit-lass as she reaches the edge of the woods, one more word escapes her mouth: "Namarie..." and this passes as bells before she has stepped aside and off the road- disappearing as a fleeting shadow into the shifting greens and browns of the woods, then, as the air stills and there is no more sounds but the distant birds, and no more shapes to be seen moving through the forest below save for those with the keenest Elven eyes, she is gone and nothing more now than a memory to any remaining there. Taking the hobbitlings hands he holds it as he has wraped her up with his cloak. His other hands pats her on the head as he look at the bigger person. "It was nice meeting you I hope we meet again as well." With these last words he turns around, and speaks to Rilla. "So did you enjoy your night?" He knows that asking a question will bring about a rapidfire answer. He smiles down to her as she begins to tell what she can of the night. Rotho and Rilla take there steps back towrds the common house. He nods his head as she speaks to him in her high little voice and they soon dissapear from view of where they had just been. |