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Logs-Shire trip: Saving a Hobbit Child At
the Three Farthing Stone Perhaps not quite as lonely as the place must seem on such a dark night, another figure stumbles across the fair, grassy meadows that lead towards Tuckborough, and the Great Smials, her eyes stained red from tears as she makes her way slowly along, her tiny, trembling hands tightly fastened about a small sack which she struggles to hold above her waist - Her height, if nothing else, marks her as extremely young for a hobbit, and, in fact, she's a scant four years old, something that would be more or less evident to anyone learned in such things as the holbytla. In any case, she stumbles along the soft grass for a moment more, not taking the slightest notice of the silent figure resting in the trees above her, particularly as she catches sight of the large obelisk in the distant gloom, and, almost immediately, she sets towards it with renewed fervour, her steps quickening, just a little.. However, she doesn't quite seem to make it before tiring out, and, with an exasperated sigh, she plops herself down in the grass and immediately begins to sob, not the least bit quietly, without much apparent fear of discovery. Azure eyes glance up through the darkness... Sounds of feet... sounds of crying all cause her momentarily alarm. In her tree the figure tenses and that gaze searches out the small hobbit. Further into the shadows she sinks, as one not wishing to be found.. Carving knife and wooden flute disappear into the folds of material that cover her body and yet.. she does not draw her hood.. this one below is no more than a child, and surely she has disappeared enough now that she will not be seen, except for those with the keenest eyes... Sympathy registers on her fair features at the weeping, and curiosity alights in her eyes and yet, for the moment she says nothing, but quickly scans the surrounds for any hobbits that would accompany one so small, and seeing none, her gaze is turned back to the one nearby.. To any observant of such things, perhaps they would have the feeling of being watched.. though it could be from an owl, or a rabbit hiding away somewhere.. who knows? Besides not having been gifted with the keenest eyes in the Shire, it would appear the the young child has more pressing matters on her mind that distracts her from observing the darkness-enshrouded figure observing her, as she doesn't waver, nor even flicker her eyes in the other's direction, instead focusing her gaze, such as it is, tear-obscured, on the ground in front of her.. Carefully, she opens the sack which she's rested in the soft grass at her side, and, one by one, she takes out two dolls, one a bright shade of purple, in hair and in dress, while the other is an equally dark shade of emerald green.. Tightly wrapping her arms about them both, embracingly, she then puts them back into the sack, and, although she doesn't smile, she manages to turn up her lips into a straight little line on her chubby, tiny face, and, standing up again, she makes her way towards the obelisk - The Three Farthing Stone - with slow, measured steps.. Not once, does she seem to notice any sort of observer, and she keeps her eyes low, her head bent so that her gaze touches the ground by her feet more than anything else. The tree-hidden stranger watches the going's on below very carefully, as if it were the most important ritual she would ever hope to witness.. and once it is finished, a very silent "Hrrmm..", one that is little more than a release of breath escapes her lips. Not yet noticed, and perhaps not content in that way (for certainly curiosity seems to be getting the better of her,) the figure shifts, so she is more hidden, but in a better position to view the young hobbit from. And then, in the most kind, gentle and non-threatening (and hopefully most hobbit-like) voice she can muster, she speaks as a whisper, or a gentle half-imagined murmur from the trees: "Why, little-one, do you cry so? Are you lost?" As she finally
arrives at the long-sought-after rune-covered obelisk, the tiny Tooklette
finds herself plopped down in the grass again, peering up at it with rather
a strange intensity for one so young.. Though, her attention seems to
waver, and her eyes become more and more distant, obscured by an ever-growing
misting of light tears that settle over them as she continues to peer
forward, no longer at, but through the large stone in front of her.. As
a voice calls out through the darkness, with a gentle, lilting, murmur,
the tiny holbytla lass' eyes widen.. Only faintly.. And she hastily opens
up her little sack again, pulling out her small dolls - Turning towards
the one dressed all in light purple, she addresses it somewhat blearily, Lips curve
upward in something of a cross between a smile- one sympathetic, and an
amused smirk as that gaze holds on the young hobbit; watching this show
with faint amusement, though concern, also. Her brows furrowing tightly together as she listens to her 'doll' speaking, Mint frowns, ever so faintly, the thin corners of her lips turning downwards, though, of course, reamining tightly pursed together - Only very faintly separating as she whispers out a reply to 'Amethyst', ".. O-oh.. I d-.. we don't know where she's gone.. Re-.. remember? We all had a me-.. Meeting.. And.. And we said we'd go out to-.. Tonight.. Because.. Because mama would.. She wouldn't let us g-... Go looking.. And.. And she wouldn't go looking herself.. That.. That was odd.. I .. I don't know why.." Seeming to be talking more to herself than anyone else, Mint sighs finally, and places the doll down on the grass in front of her, next to her green-clad 'sister', as she continues in a quiet, strained voice, ".. Any-.. anyways.. You're three sis-.. Sisters.. And my fri-.. Friends. My best-... Best friends. How c-.." Trailing off, the little Tooklette lass degenerates into sobs again, covering her eyes with her hands to dry them quickly, as she sniffles, looking terribly forlorn and alone in the chilly night. "Hrmmm..." Again that noise of deep thought, though no more than a breath. Attentitively she listens to Mint's sobbing, and the story she formulates from jumbled words... "She would not let you go? Still, I do not think it wise to be here, alone.." A pause now as the hobbit child breaks down crying again, and through the darkness the stranger almost winces; she hated suffering under normal circumstances... "Perhaps you should return home tonight, and search in the morning, when it is light. Tonight; it is much too dark to see very far, anyway... Even if you search and search I doubt you shall find.. Chrystal.. and I fear for your saftey.. Do you know the way home? Will you go there?" The last question is asked with a faint hint of hope amidst desperation and fear for the young-one... As if still talking to her doll, and, in particular, to 'Amethyst', Mint gives the purple-dressed on a little bit of a nod, continuing quietly, "N-no.. Of.. Of course not.. S-.. She said it was too-.. Too dangerous.. And.. and we didn't know.. Know where she'd g-gone too.. Of course.. B-but.. But that's okay.. We'll.. We'll find her.." Still blubbering just a little, and with her sight obscured by tears, the lass slowly regains her feet as home is mentioned again, and she picks up the green-clad 'Emerald' as she does so, apparently addressing her now, as she turns about and peers towards the meadows she came from, with the doll in front of her, her eyes widening, just a faint little bit, and her soft tones laced with fear, ".. Oo.. Ohh..! I.. I'm not sure.. Exactly.. That way, I guess.. B-but.. But I can't see h-.. Home from here.. I've gone t-.. Too far.. But.. But you know the way home, don't you, Em.. Emerald..? R-right...?" From within
the darkness, the figure nods- regardless of the fact that she can be
seen or not. "I think it is too dangerous... I do not wish to frighten
you, though, but I have heard stories of wolves in the Shire before..
I only want to do what is safest for you, little-one, and I think that
the safest thing is returning home..." Softly does the croon, softly,
gently, comfortingly... As wolves
are mentioned, the tiny Tooklette, Mint, gasps sharply, and her eyes widen
enormously as she shifts her attention from side to side, to side, before
peering down pointedly at the green-clad doll in her hands, ".. T-that's...
That's mean.. Mama.. Mama said there weren't wol-.. Wolves.. only mean
people say there.. That.. That there are... T-.. To be mean.. T-hough..
Though maybe.. Maybe it's okay... B-but.. but I haven't found.. Haven't
found Crys-.. Crystal yet..." There is
a hesitant pause from the tree-hidden elleth as she observes the reaction
of the small-one upon mention of the wolves.. "I do not wish to be
mean, nor frighten you, and I am certain there are no wolves in the Shire
at this time, but my point remains that it is not safe for you to be out
this late... And I am aware that you have not yet found Crystal, but perhaps
tomorrow you can speak to your mother, and she will take you out to search
for her..." Another pause follows the words, as the figure gathers
her thoughts about her again. Noticibly, the word 'we' is carefully avoided. As she listens to the hidden voice go on about real wolves, Mint begins to tremble a little, and, to a degree, fear begins to become the most dominant emotion on her tiny little features as she darts her gaze about her, this way and that, in a seemingly random fashion, though she continues to speak quietly, and softly, apparently to her doll, ".. D-.. Don't be silly.. I mean.. Of.. Of course if .. If we go out again.. Even.. Even though I don't.. Don't think that mama will let us.. again.. We.. we snucked out, rem-.. ..." Trailing off, however, as the voice admits to not being either Amethsyt or Emerald, little Mint peers about herself somewhat suspiciously, her eyes wide with quite obvious fright, "O-oh.. Y-.. You're not Amethy-.. Amethyst or Eme-.. Emerald..? But..." Her face contorting in mild confusion as the voice seems to change identity, referring to the mysterious 'friend' in the third person again, Mint finally, after a few moments, seems to make up her mind, to believe that Amethyst is again speaking, and addressing the purple-dressed dollie, she nods very slowly forwards, "O-oh.. Oh, don't worry.. I ... I'll trust any-.. Anyone you'd have as a friend, Ame-.. Amethyst. You're my best-.. Best friend.. Except for Eme-.. Emerald who I like best too.. B-but.. but I've known you long-.. longer... I.. I guess.. If there are wo-.. wolves out here... And.. And I am cold.. And chilly.. Okay.. We.. You can lead us home, okay?" Perhaps
sensing the fear from the young hobbit, the stranger performs a quick
scan of the area herself, before reassuring; "Do not worry. There
are no wolves here, and my friend shall protect us from them all, if there
were any. But there are none." Now her voice fades to silence, and
she is left with the difficult matter of how to continue the conversation;
as mysterious friend, or as doll... Seemingly
reassured by the words of the doll, the little Tooklette relaxes, ever
so faintly, and, standing to her feet again, she takes her dolls in her
arms and wraps them tightly to herself, peering longingly across the meadow
that leasd to the Great Smials, "I.. I guess that's good.. I.. I'd
be a-afraid if I didn't have you, and Eme-.. Emerald.. I'm glad you're
s-.. So smart.." As the friend is mentioned again, Mint gives a small
nod of her head forwards, and though she does allow her glance to peer
about herself a little searchingly, she doesn't make any real effort to
locate the mysterious 'friend', ".. huh.. I.. I guess.. I'm pretty
tired.. I.. We.. We started out last night, reme-.. Remember? Right..
Right after.. Af-.. After mama put us to sl-.. Sleep.. Except.. Not real-..
Really sleep.. B-but.. But I don't want to be eat-.. Eaten.." Sighing
quietly, the lass peers down at the purple dollie in her hands for several
lengthy moments before comingto a decision, ".. O-.. Okay.. I'll
.. I'll take a rest before I g-.. Go back.. Here, against t-.. The rock..
If you pro-.. Pro-mise, I guess I'll be okay.." All the while, the stranger in the tree has busied herself with pulling out her flute in order to play the child a lullaby and help her sleep... Apparently no tune was needed, for now the young hobbit is asleep. Carefully she draws her hood up over her head and descends the tree- landing on the ground with silent feet, and then drifting over to the young hobbit- ducking again behind a trunk... "Are you asleep, little-one? For my friend will take us back to the Smials, if you sleep soundly and do not wake..." The voice is obviously much closer now, and the volume raised slightly. The wooden flute is still clutched in one hand- spinder-like fingers wrapped around the wood as she falls still and silent, and awaits a reply, or no reply, as the case may be... Not seeming to notice the descent of the darkness-enshrouded stranger, Mint only stirs a faint bit, and, as she's addressed in a quiet voice, she murmurs out a quiet little reply, "O-oh.. N-.. not yet, Amethyst.. Shh.. W-.. We have to be quiet or.. Or we can't sleep.." That seems to be about the extent of her consciousness, however- She's lulled, but not quite in a deep sleep as she rolls from side to side, restlessly, apparently discomforted by the hardness of the rock, and the scratching of the grass against her arms as she slowly descends into a deeper state of sleep. The hidden stranger nearly starts as Mint's voice reaches her ears- perhaps having not expected any reply at all... "It is fine, little-one... My friend shall play a quiet tune that will help you to sleep...Do not worry, for you are quite safe." The voice is again gentle and soothing and, after a moment or two, in which the last ring of the words fade to silence, the flute is raised to her mouth, and she begins to play. Softly and almost inaudiable to any except those in the immediate area, the song is obviously a lullaby; each note sweet and ringing; lulling the little-one into sleep if she follows its call... Apparently not quite conscious enough to give any sort of a serious reply to 'Amethyst's' comments, the Mintish tooklette merely contents herself to shifting in her semi-sleeping state, seemingly attempting, in vain, to find a comftorable position, crouched as she is, at the foot of a large stone, without any sort of a blanket for protection from the chilly night air, her lips, seemingly unconsciously curling down into a thin sort of a frown. As the first, delicate, chiming tones come from the stranger's flute, however, Mint immediately begins to relax, her tiny ears perking up, only a little as she sighs and mumbles in her sleep, the tension in her chubby little form slowly fading as she descends into a deeper, more certain sleep, her arms still wrapped tightly about her two dollies as she sits, all curled up, against the obelisk. The stranger plays for a few moments more; the tune repeating once and then again until she re-emerges from behind the tree, playing still. Slowly she stops- the notes fading into the stillness to become nothing but a fading memory... But still she does not move, but looks down on the sleeping form to be sure she is well asleep before moving any more- the flute poised to continue playing; her own body a tense and alert contrast compared to the peaceful sleeping form of the little hobbit... She watches, and waits.. The relaxing, gentle nature of the flute's soft tones seem to have done their job well, when coupled with the exhausted little hobbit lass, and, except for a gentle movement of her chest, as she breaths in and out, shallowly, the child doesn't stir in the slightest, her arms wrapped tightly about her legs, and her dolls nestled gently against her as she lays against the standing stone, innocent, and, of course, entirely vulnerable. "Sleep now little one, and you shall be home shortly; safe and warm where you belong..." And, like a drifting shadow, the elleth moves forward to carefully gather the child up in her arms- graceful movements making this as smoothe as possible. The hobbit is so tiny in her arms, they it seems she would only need one arm to carry her- the other takes up the sack which the small-one had been carrying... And then, she seems to cradle the child there like a mother would, perhaps. The warmth from her body would radiate off her now and, taking a last glance around, and reassuring herself that the child is asleep still, she makes to set off south... Seeming to do just as her protector asks of her, although Mint shifts a little, as she's lifted from the ground, she doesn't seem to be anywhere near waking up, her arms unconsciously tightening about her two little dolls as she continues to soundlessly slumber, unaware, of course, of what transpires around her, and of the delicate creature carrying her across the meadow, to the warmth and friendliness of hearth, and home, and family. Onward does the stranger go; drifting on light and silent feet, and though she nearly runs, each step is as smoothe as the next; flawlessly carrying her precious bundle, neither tripping nor stumbling on the ground beneath her booted feet... As a fleeting shadow they cross the road and move onto the southern-bound road.. To any watching, perhaps they would see a blur of silver; a flash of purple or emerald, though little more; so well is she camoflaged. "Do not fear, little-one... for we draw near your home, and all those good things there..." You travel
south along a narrow trail. Despite the closeness of home, the young lass cradled in the arms of her protectoress seems unaffected, lost in the dream-filled slumber of an exhausted hobbit child, as she does little more than stir, very faintly, barely at all, even, such is the gentle movements of she who carries her - The precious bundle undisturbed by how swiftly she's carried across the meadow. Perhaps it is a proud smile that briefly finds the face of the elleth; pride that the young hobbit has stayed asleep? Though she tenses momentarily at the stirring, she does not stop but flies on swifter, fearing that she should be caught out by the frightened and exausted lass.. "Onward and onward through the night; sleep you little child and let no fear find you..." Softly she begins to sing in Sindarin- words that would not be understood even if Mint awoke, and the tune follows the gentle lullaby of the pipe-song played earlier...Into the meadow they go now, and cross- nearly reaching the entrance to the Smials, now.. You head
northwest toward Great Smials, crossing from the Southfarthing into the
Westfarthing on your way.. But far and away the most impressive thing about is right before you: a great round doorway is carved straight into an enormous hill. The door itself is stout, oaken, and ancient, bearing the scars of many years' peering out onto the hills. A blackened iron ring is set in the centre of the door. On either side, the hill is spotted with round windows, allowing glimpses of hallways and corridors and bedrooms. The lawn
is carpeted in a broad expanse of bright green grass and the trees are
thick and full of leaves. Wild flowers dot the meadow in scattered patches
and the colours coming from the garden are dazzling. To the right of the door, suspended from an elaborate looking iron hook, is a pretty silver bell hanging with a cord. You might RING the BELL and let the Tooks know you've arrived. Her features contorted in relaxed weariness, Mint doesn't appear to be anywhere near waking, even as she unconsciously shifts about in her sleep.. And, even that, after a few moments, stops, as she finds a more comftorable position, nestled in the arms of her protectoress, and the lilting tones of the gentle song wash over her, in a reassuring fashion.. Still deeply in slumber, she is carried across the meadow, and towards the entrance of the smial, still a place of great quiet in these, the earliest hours of the morning, the windows darknened, and mostly with drawn shades, closed against the darkness of the surrounding night. Finally reaching the door of the Smials, Linnelei pauses there.. not coming to an abrupt stop but slowing gradually... Kindly she looks on Mint and seems almost reluctant to set the young hobbitling down... And then, composing herself again, she very gently lowers her to the ground before the door, and places the sack just beside. "Sleep you here, little-one, while your parents wake to come find you..." More words spoken in Sindarin- a tongue she is obviously more comfortable speaking...Now she reaches to the bell, and rings it vigorously. Hesitating a moment more to regard the sleeping-one by the step, she turns and sinks into the shadows nearby to wait- making sure she is recieved by her family before she will disappear completely... As she's
placed at what is basically the doorstep of the Great Smials, Mint stirs..
Just a little.. And, as the bell is rung, several times, so vigorously,
she, unsurprisingly, wakes up, her eyes blearily opening, and only slowly,
giving her protectoress more than enough time to get away before being
spotted.. In fact, the lass hasn't quite regained her wits, even when
the door itself opens, having been pulled open by a young hobbit lady,
quite obviously adult, but still not far out of her tweens, quite dressed,
despite the hour, and with a look of worry etched across her features..
Which, however, fades away, the moment her eyes fall upon Mint, and, wrapping
her arms about the bleary, still half-sleeping child, she draws the Tooklette
into a tight embrace, her eyes misting a little with relieved tears, "..
Oh, thank goodness, Mint..! I went to bring you a glass of water, because
I knew you weren't feeling too well, and then I noticed you were gone,
and we were terribly worried about you..! Your father went off to find
you, with a bunch of other lads, but they haven't come back yet.. You've
given us an awful fright, miss..! Anyways, come inside, quickly, before
you catch cold.. Poor darling.. You must be half frozen..!" Not the
least bit of annoyance registering in her features, Mint's mother, Saffron
Took, carefully plucks her sleepy daughter from the ground, arms wrapping
about the child as she carries her into the warmth and safety of the Great
Smials.. Home, once more.
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