All Goblins' Eve

What
Spooky happenings occur in the Baggins cottage on All Goblins' Eve...

Who
Olfo Diggle (#29680)........Balmar Grubb, Clodo Baggins
Frodo Baggins (#29612)......Rotho Baggins, Lilias Baggins, Carnation Goodenough, Basil Baggins
Midien Took (#24687)........herself
Quraoran (#26361)...........Gravo Baggins
Kifflen Banks (#???)........herself
Henna Brandybuck (#13947)...herself
Folco Boffin (#28450).......Frodo Baggins (Green_Dragon)
Tolmon Brownlock (#???).....himself
Filby Pott (#29680).........Wilby Pott
Pippin Took (#30066)........Lilly Took
Timothy Twofoot (#29051)....Willemina Took, Terabethia Brandybuck, Reynard Took

Baggins Cottage

This is the family home of the Baggins family that is descended from Ponto Baggins the 1st. As you enter from the front hall, you find that the main room is quite large and comfortable, with several overstuffed armchairs and a rather enormous (to a hobbit!) sofa. A pair of family portraits hang over the small fireplace that is the focal point of the room. This area is colourfully decorated in orange and gold, with touches of black. Large tables of refreshments stand ready - everything a hobbit might dream of - yum! Near the hearth, in the focal area of the room, stands a small chaise-lounge, spread with bright patchwork quilts as if awaiting someone.

If you proceed on down the hallway past the main room, however, you would pass a variety of colorful doors leading into various areas. . .the smells of apple cider, popcorn balls, and gingerbread escape from the kitchen - mmmm!. . .one door, left ajar, leads to what looks like a beautiful guest room, with elegant furnishings ranging from a large, comfy-looking bed to satin draperies. . .another door leads into a suite smelling of smoke and decorated in quite a gentlehobbitly fashion. . . . Off the main hall is a corridor leading both left and right, opening to the family's bedrooms and the library, perhaps a few other rooms as well. . .

Contents:
Wilby
Midien
Rotho
Kifflen
Henna
Gravo
Lilias

Obvious exits:
Out

Who?
Midien
Midien Took, a young ladyhobbit in her early tweens and just under three feet tall, is before you. Thick, well-kept locks of deep mahogany curls fall gently, though most being pinned up behind her head and accented a bit with a few small laces of bright blue ribbon, though a few tendruls find their way down from their places onto her neck and forehead. Large eyes of the same colour, so dark they may appear black at first glance, usually shine with a merry sparkle. Her skin is soft and smooth with a medium-tan colour to it, as she enjoys being out and about and is often in the sun. Her hair and expression are all that is typical of her at the moment, however, as her costume is somewhat of an oddity in itself. She wears a bright green satin waistcoat with polished brass buttons, a high-necked white shirt worn beneath it, and neat black breeches with brass buttons to match those on the waistcoat. As a jacket, she wears a dark green dress-coat with tails, accented with a bit of embroidery. A thin gold chain gives hint to the pocketwatch she carries. With her form a bit light for a hobbit, however, the costume wears a bit loosely on her. It seems she has come as... as... Her cousin Orrin!! My, my... He will certainly be upset to find his best waistcoat missing!....

Rotho
A young hobbit, still in his tweens, this was at one point a chubby little fellow even as hobbits go, though at this time he's rather on the thin side for one of his kind. He might be of average height or a little less, though you really can't tell. His head is crowned with thick cinnamon-coloured curls; his blue-grey eyes, fringed with thick lashes, peek out from a face of fair complexion and rosy cheeks, though today he looks as if he's been quite ill, his countenance pale except for a slight pink blush returning to his face. The edges of a blue suit made of the finest materials - including a weskit with large gold buttons - are just visible at times, as for the most part he remains warmly bundled in bright patchwork quilts, from his chin all the way over his otherwise bare toes.

Kifflen
At about five inches and two feet is as tall as this fairly plump hobbit lass, with a firm nature and relatively kind features, can get. Her actual appearance leads one to presume she's in her tweens though her normal air, of what could be deemed pleasant sternness and individual justification, might make one care to equate her with an elder grouch or having been around one too long. In truth, she simply has a strong will and stubborn mind, as many who know her could declare. Her eyes are an almost contradictory brown, swelling with both warm emotions and cold reasoning: the color of many a fine animal and many a fine mud puddle. The bridge of her nose curves inward like a slope and the end sprouts out in many a child's somewhat turned up, button-like fashion. Her mouth is average-sized, with the bottom lip seeming more prominent though somehow not that much thicker.

Most of the light, golden-brown curls on her head are pulled back in a loose bun; mostly unable to hide her one self-conscious blemish, even when her hair is down. Two long, flowing locks, one a piece, are left hanging in front of her ears, almost to her shoulders. A few shorter ones are left to frame her smooth, unadorned forehead as they try to shade her eyes and cover her expressive, fluffy eyebrows. A few scattered, rebellious strands try to sneak out of the bun while two of her tresses are left to gloat openly as each one hangs down behind an ear. A solitary, slightly wavy, ruddy, old scar on her rosy face is one that might be startling to some folk. It starts almost right under the lower lid of her left (her left, not the viewer's) eye, a little too close for comfort, and makes it's curving way along her left cheek. It thickens a bit as it goes and then tapers off again before halting a little above her chin and before it can greet her lips.

Her current wardrobe is much less peculiar, consisting of a plain sort of formal dress, a mask, and a shawl. Upon her face rests a short, All Goblin's Eve mask, reaching from below her eyebrows to over the end of her nose as a piece of string keeps the entire thing in place. It is covered with red-orange fabric except for a blaze of white up the bridge of the nose and spreading out a bit more along the forehead. The dark brown woolen shawl, pinned together just below her neck by a rectangular, rose quartz brooch with a silver casing, rests comfortably over her shoulders as it cascades down to the back of her knees. Tassels along the shawl's edge swish in time to nearly any motion. The shawl loosely holds the cream colored collar of the dress under siege as it reaches halfway up her neck in a warm embrace. The bodice is black with it's own, lower, scooped neckline that connects to cream colored fabric which is well acquainted with the neck band. The long sleeves that reach nearly to her wrists are flared at the ends and cream colored as well. A deep orange skirt befriends the bodice and falls over her ankles, giving the curly hairs of her prominent feet an even wilder, more patient appearance than usual.

Henna
You glance at this figure, obviously a ladyhobbit, but cannot see much of her. A dark cape covers most of her body, though she wears a long, dark dress underneath it. The cape also has a hood, which covers her head and casts a shadow across her face, where two glowing eyes can dimly be seen.

Gravo
Covered by a cloak, obsidian in colour, is this creature so ominous. Feathered wings...sprout from two holes in the cloak, each as tall as a hobbits height easily...red as crimson, blue as the sea, green as the forest, and black as the night, are these feathers. The feet of this creature is covered in the flowing cloak...the illusion of levitation made when this creature walks, for the movements of his feet, are invisible to the normal eye. A fine silken glove, black in hue, are the creatures hands. . . The arms covered in a thick black longsleeved tunic no doubt...a scarf covering the lower face of this creature...and the bangs of the creatures hair, concealing all but a bit of his eyes. A pale white is the colour, of the small bit, of the exposed skin A cape sewn to the cloak itself, cascades from his shoulders...dark navy blue it isreaching well past his feet, and resting apon the ground. For this hobbit, disguised as such a hideous beast.is none other then Gravo Baggins.

Wilby
Though a typical hobbit in form, this individual looks rather unhealthy: pale skin, faded hair, and a somber demeanor. Though he has arrived for the Goblins' Eve party he has no real costume; a plain grey cloak and waistcoat are all he wears. His face is unchanging, his face neither smiles nor frowns, and his eyes are unexpressionate pools. He is a sad sight, though one cannot really understand how...

Balmar
A small and darkly featured figure adorns the ground before you - Small like a hobbit, two beady eyes glowing beneath a hood of darkness. The hood forms into a cloak, covering all but the bare, furry feet of this litte creature. Very well, it is indeed a hobbit, though the name of this hobbit could never be known - He remains unseen. The dark clothe of the cloak is featureless, mysteriously covering this small form.

Lilias
Dressed in a simple gown and shawl of emerald green, this ladyhobbit might be of slightly less than average height. Her thick cinnamon-coloured curls and large hazel eyes give her a look of a somewhat younger hobbit, though she must be into her sixties at the least. Today, however, she looks weary and worried, with dark lines furrowing her high forehead and circling her eyes. She wears only two ornaments: an exquisite gold wedding band on her ring finger and a tiny silver ring on her pinky.

Frodo
Before you stands a four foot tall green dragon! Unlike most dragons, this one wears clothes! Sporting a fine surcoat, weskit and breeches of an emerald green, he is quite the dapper dragon. He stands on two legs and his hand rests upon a fine walking stick that is topped with a brass knob. His head is quite large, and his flame red eyes shine from within deep sockets like two giant rubies. His mouth gapes open, and a long forked tongue hangs out to the side. From deep, deep within the gaping maw... you think you see another set of eyes! How queer!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Bal*mar*, it's time!" Rotho urges anxiously. "Are you ready?" He glances toward the door. "I can hear people arriving. . . ."

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Calls a voice - Balmar's - from behind a wooden door. At last the door opens and a slumped, dark shape comes forth. "What do you think?" it askes as it takes its place beside Rotho, placing an arm around the lad for support.

Rotho gasps. "If we were in a dark room, I might be more than a bit frightened - it's wonderful! But what exactly *are* you, may I ask?"

His countenance remains unseen, but the cloaked healer replies, "I'm... I'm... Oh! I don't know.. Its the idea, Rotho!" A smile curves the figure's lips - unseen, of course - and he moves to help his friend to stand.

Shaking his head, Rotho puts his arm around Balmar's shoulder, rising cautiously. "Whatever you say. . ."

Slowly opening the door to Rotho's room, Henna appears, though the smile that she is obviouysly wearing is not to be seen. Looking across the room to see Balmar helping Rotho out of bed, she hurries over. "Need some help, Balmar, or do you have it covered?"

"I've got it," Balmar says, arm moving with swiftness, to pick up his friend, of course, and then the two travel out of the door of his room. "Yes, that's right," he agrees teasingly as they enter the sitting room. "Here we are," the healer murmurs comfortingly as he gently sets the lad down on the newly-placed sofa.

Nervously Lilias rearranges a few plates of food before spreading some extra quilts across the small lounging sofa near the warm fire crackling merrily in the hearth as Balmar brings Rotho out to it. "There now, sweetheart. . .how's that?" she asks, quickly bundling several of the warm blankets over him. "Thank you, Balmar - "

"Mo*ther*!" whispers Rotho with a trace of mild embarrassment bordering on vexation. "The guests are coming any minute. . . please!"

The guests seem to be slowly trickling in. So far one young hobbit maiden has walked in through the front door at least. Outside a pony whinnies softly and the lass in the incredubly simple costume ignores it as she looks around the room, obviously having never been here before from the look on her face. Most of her face is exposed, giving easy room for various expressions to be seen as she tries to hide her nervousness. This seems to be going well until she notices the light commotion near the fire and hastily wanders a little though not very far from the door and not very near the only other hobbits currently in the cottage.

"Come on in, my dear," urges Lilias, glancing up at the lass in gent's clothing. "You're Miss - Banks, correct? I almost didn't know you in that costume! Charming! Do get some refreshments - "

A hand...gloved in silk, and as black as pitch...comes from behind the sofa...followed by the rising form of a ghost perhaps... clothed in robes which flow beautifully, down its form...obsidian in colour...are these. For the face is hidden, by a scarf black as the midnight sky, while only the slighest bit of this creature's eyes are visible..mostly covered in its bangs...but just the glimpse of white skin can be seen as well..ghostly indeed is this. A pair of wings does this creature have, the feathers coloured crimson, navy, black, and green, illustrating the darkness from within, that this creature has..or does it? For the gloved hand...moves to touch the shoulder of Rotho from behind, like a spider the fingers move, a hissing noise from this monster of whatever it may be, or perhaps it is but Gravo Baggins in a disguise!

The door of the cottage opens--seemingly by its own accord--and a cloaked figure walks in. He makes no noise, and the door closes slowly behind him. Walking to the corner of the room he turns and watches the proceedings, speechless and motionless.

"Back in a moment," promises the cloaked figure with the voice of Balmar as he takes back in the direction from whence he brought Rotho. "Henna!" he addresses the maiden as he approaches. "You look splendid!" he notes, enlacing his arm with her's. "Shall we?"

Kifflen smiles a bit shyly at Mrs. Baggins and examines the tables of food and drink carefully upon recommendation. She decides at the moment that she isn't hungry and notices she happens to be one of the few not wearing dark robes currently.

Although her smile cannot be seen, Henna's giggle can be heard from inside the hood of her cape. Taking Balmar's offered arm, she nods.

Smiling - Unseen, of course - the cloaked healer - Balmar - begins to make his way from the hall into the sitting room, Henna politely in tow.

There is the sound of a faint knock at the door of the cottage and it creaks as it open a bit, a light breeze seeping through the crack, and the face of a young hobbit lass peeps though the doorway. Midien takes a few timid steps into the room with a small smile, indeed hoping that she is not late.

The cloaked figure continues to watch the proceedings... silently he walks from corner to corner, unassuming and quiet. He begins to remove his hood... no, it's too soon. Just wait and watch...

Seating herself on at the couch opposite of Rotho, Henna quickly smooths out the dark tangle of robes that surround her.

At a sound, Rotho turns abruptly, starting at the - thing - behind him and nearly jumping out of his seat, provoking a coughing fit. "Gravo!" he gasps, his eyes wide. "What a. . .costume!. . ."

"Midien! Do come in, sweetheart - Rotho's been hoping you could make it - " calls Lilias, motioning the Took lass over. "Help yourself to the refreshments; I don't want to see this all around tomorrow. . .I haven't room in my kitchen, believe me!"

"Grav*o*!" Balmar gasps as he comes to comfort Rotho in his quest for breath. His scowl goes unseen as he looks up to Gravo - Disguised, of course, by what but a hideous costume. A sigh escapes the lungs and the darkness of the cloaked lad and he takes a place beside Henna.

A chuckle, akin to wickedness, and the darkness that this creature that Gravo has portrayed, is. A finger to his lips, and a hissing shhh to signifie for his cousin and Balmar to not speak his true name, so that others may remain quite suprised. For the creature takes several steps back...the cloak covering his feet...and giving the illusion, that he is but a levitating spectre, of a creature long since dead. If one could see, the lips of this musician incognito, there would be a grin, equally as wicked as the chuckle, that preceded it.

There seem to be a lot of 'shy' hobbits here at present and Kifflen is currently one of them. She realizes that mingling is the whole point of a party of course and that possibly the best two hobbits to greet would be the hosts. She blinks as she notices the 'Shadow People', particularly Gravo and his actions, surrounding the lady in green all around Rotho but simply walks up to Mrs. Banks and her son. A curtsey is given to the duo and their assorted friends as well. "Good Eve, all. Eht's good to see Rotho is well enough to attend." It seems she has an accent of sorts, especially when it comes to her i's. She waves a little at the other two lurking about and smiles. "Aheh'm sorry ehf Aheh don't know everyone. Aheh've not been to many parties."

Lilias shoots a glare at her nephew. "Really, now! Didn't we have a talk about making light of things we shouldn't?" Sighing, she quickly assembles a plateful of food, taking a cup of cider as well, setting them on a small table by Rotho's sofa. "Sweetheart, just let me know if you need anything else. . .I'll try and stay out of the way a bit - "

You hear a knock from the direction of Out.

Lilias +shouts "Come in!!!"

Green_Dragon arrives from Hobbiton Lane.
Green_Dragon has arrived.

Leaning against the back of the sofa in which she is seated, Henna remains unusually silent. Her barely-seen eyes follow the guests as they enter, one by one.

Having been looking about the room for a few moments after arriving to see who is there, she turns with a wide smile as Lilias addresses her and, removing her light cloak - mostly worn to protect her costume from the elements - and draping it over one arm, crosses the floor quickly to meet her, "Hello! Oh I do hope I have not missed much. I was begining to worry that I should be late!" She turns her glance towards the hobbit-filled room again, looking at all the ...err.. shadowy people... seeing the odd, quiet fellow who seems to be rather keeping to himself, she thinks 'very good costume indeed... '

"Welcome, - oh!" Lilias gasps as she sees the beast entering. "Oh, my - what a - a - notable costume. . ." Glancing at the walking stick, she suddenly breathes more easily. "Frodo Baggins, is THAT you under there? Goodness, but you startled me. . . ."

His absent gaze falling upon Henna, Balmar leans over to her and inquires in a subdued tone, "Whatever is wrong, dearest?" For Henna is the only who can see his face beneath his hood, and he wears a rather troubled look, indeed.

Rotho nods politely to Kifflen - "Thank you - I do appreciate it - " as he pointedly ignores his mother's attempts at interesting him in the food before turning to see the spectacle entering the room. "Who in the Shire - FRODO? Cousin Frodo, is it you?" His expression broadens into a wide, hopeful smile.

The cloaked figure tenses. He had not expected so many people to attend. He tries to bring himself to remove his cowl... no, still not the time for them to see... soon, to be sure, but not now...

Stepping regall into the cozy cottage, the green dragon ducks his hideous head to avoid bumping it on the door frame. The lamplight reflects off of his ruby eyes, sending gleams of crimson light into the corners of the room. His cane planted firmly on the floor, the dragon bows gracefully and from somewhere within, a voice speaks, "Greetings fair Bagginses and guests. I hope I am not too late!" the distant voice declares, an ettempt being made to disguise it. "Greetings fair Lilias and dear Rotho!" he says, ignoring the suggestions that he is Frodo or anything other than a dragon.

Looking to Balmar as he speaks to her, Henna smiles, her calm, sweet voice the same as always. "I'm sorry for being so quiet. I just don't think I have seen this many people in one room before... at least not for awhile," she answers. "I'll try to be more talkative," she giggles.

The trouble that so creases Balmar hidden brows immedeatly fades as a wide smile tips the corners of his lips. "All is well, then?" he replies to his sweetheart with a nod. Up his sheltered countenance looks again, only to be frightened by a large green shape - Later defined by his eyes as none other than a dragon! He cowers against Henna, whimpering and pointing, though one would never see his countenance below the shadows of his hood...

Beaming, Rotho watches the dragon with interest. "Not too late at all - just in time, in fact - soon we're to have a story or two, and there are plenty of refreshments - " He winks quickly before looking around the room once more.

Kifflen smiles a bit shyly at Rotho, as if she's not used to big events, and then turns around to look at the hobbit who has just entered. She stares at the dragon costume for a good many minutes before saying anything, "Maheh goodness. Aheh hope that didn'a scare the ponies!" This seems to be all she can get out before she nervously looks around at the other guests. She looks quite amused at Miss Took's costume and glances curiously at the other fellow in the cowl. After a glance around the room she peers more curiously at the dragon than nervously. Stepping away from the hosts she wanders off to get herself a drink of something pleasent.

Manical laughter, echos from the confines of the obsiden robes, that cover this beast of the darkness. . . as he surveys the other guests. He strides swiftly...the illuion of his form floating above the ground, is given through his swooping stride, like an bird of prey, striking its victim from above, does this creature take his seat..The feathers blowing to and fro, from the swift movements of this hobbit in disguise. The laughter quieting down within a few moments, and then there is nothing but silence, from whatever beast this may be.

Turning to look at the large and very green creature that has entered the cottage, Midien cannot help but smile at all the commotion surrounding it. Far more quiet than usual - perhaps out of nervousness at the large number of hobbits at the party - she silently moves out among the hobbits gathered in the room. Almost instantly, though, she turns with a smile at Henna's voice to a shrouded figure on the couch and says rather timidly, "Henna dear? Is that you?" Her smile relaxes a bit as she says, "Indeed I hope I am not interrupting you and..." She chuckles slightly, ".. heh.. - Well, I have to admit I know not who - .. your conversation."

Looking back toward the cloaked figure beside Henna, Rotho whispers, "It's - I think - well, I hate to go ahead without Tera, but - could you- ?" He nods to the room in general, his eyes fixed inquistively on the figure.

The dark-hooded ladyhobbit looks up when she hears her name said. "Oh, Midien, is that you? I haven't seen you since - " Her voice trails away as she lays eyes on the dragon costume that Balmar points at.

Kifflen makes sure she stays on the side of the table away from the creative Gravo. The costume is.... more than interesting. She finds herself a glass of punch and drinks it for awhile.

In the most spectacular enterance that no one will ever notice, Tolmon enters the cottage. It's dramatic and poised - and, in the confusion of the crowded party, where attentions are turned elsewhere, completly unremarkable. He simply enters, hands on his hips with a lengthy pause in the doorway, as if silently announcing his arrival, and then puffs out his chest and makes his way to mingle with the crowd.

His breif glance falling from the figure - Whom insists upon speaking with Henna - Balmar's cloaked head turns to Rotho. "Ahh.. Yes.. Of course," he replies with a nod and an absent smile. Standing from his seat, he glances about the room, beady eyes cowering, of course, each time when they meet the dragon whom has entered through the front door. "Hear, hear!" he proclaims loudly. "Rotho has something to say!" he announces. As the room begins to quiet, he guestures for the couched lad to begin.

A quiet chuckling can be heard from within the dragon costume and the large green head bows to those staring at him. He gives quiet acknowledgement to Gravo and his fabulous costume and is about to speak, when Balmar calls for quiet.

Her dark eyes following Henna's gaze, Midien turns to look for a moment at the Green Dragon again, and then to the cowering figure at Henna's side, stifling a bit of a chuckle as she sees him, though she soon looks up again at the multitude of hobbits gathered in their array of costumes. Her attention is, however, diverted to Rotho at the announcement, and she turns her silent gaze to him to listen.

The cowled figure turns to the speaker further watch the proceedings.

Kifflen looks up when the announcement is made and only gives the latest arrival a glance before returning her gaze to Rotho.

Swallowing nervously at the sudden quiet, Rotho looks around a bit timidly, though he smiles brightly. "I - just wanted to - um - to thank you all for - for coming. . . . For those of you who weren't here last year - er - at the Hay Gate in Buckland, you may not realise just - just how much a small party like this means. . .and - " A cough threatens to overtake his speech, but he manages, with some effort, to stifle it. "Anyhow, I - do appreciate your presence, and all the - remarkable! - costumes. . . . Thank you all."

The Green Dragon claps loudly, his flappy green hands dangling loosely at the fingertips. A muffled, "Hear, Hear!" can be heard from within and the head bobs up and down, causing the ears to flap about comically and the bright red tongue to wag.

Kifflen smiles at the statements made, unsure of what to make of it since of course she can't realise just how much the small party means to their host. She also feels a bit silly and embarresed since her costume is nothing more than a dress and a mask. This is only made a bit more acute when she looks around to see who applauded.

The beast, nods to the one disguised as a dragon in return...but then the head of this creature, cloaked by the robes obsidian, in hue, moves to his cousin speaking to all. If not for his lower face covered by a scarf, there would be a smile quite visible, but not of wickedness. Slowly he applauds, once the dragon begins to applaud, of course, not overally loud, due to his gloves muffling the sound quite easily.

Tears sparkling in her eyes, Lilias applauds, swallowing hard as she watches Rotho, a few crystalline drops suddenly sliding down her cheeks as she vainly searches her person for a pocket-handkerchief.

Nodding proudly, the cloaked figure beside Rotho takes a place beside the other cloaked figure - Henna - and applauds quietly, smile sent to Rotho, obsucred by the lack of light within his rather foreboding costume. Back to Henna and Midien, does the figure turn.

Midien nods with a smile as she joins the other costumed hobbits in applause, though not overly loud, as she is yet a bit nervous, having been to few parties as of yet. Her thoughts silently wonder what occurred at the Hay Gate as she was not there, but it is soon passed off and out of her mind.

Tolmon's eyes go wide with the unmistakable sound of surprise, and he silently mouths 'Costumes?' to himself. Whipping his head about, he catches sight of the dragon, the hobbit lass in her cousin's clothing, and others; suddenly, that puffed up chest seems to deflate a little, and the poised, dignified posture gives way to the more natural but far less attractive hunched stance of a lower-class hobbit. A blush rushing to his cheeks, Tolmon quickly claps along with the others, to try and prevent further social blunders.

Espying Miss Baggins's consternation, the green dragon flaps his feet over to her side and bows stiffly and with a flip of his wrist, a pristine white handerchief materializes in his floppy-fingered right hand, the inititials "F.B." embroidered in the corner in golden thread.

Listening to Rotho speak, Henna glows with delight as a cheerful, yet unseen smile comes across her face.

Taking the handkerchief gratefully, Lilias dabs her eyes. "Thank you - thank you so much," she murmurs, suddenly putting her arms around the dragon as best as she can.

Rotho blushes. "Thank you all - you're - too kind - " Glancing toward the obsidian-cloaked figure who's been stalking about, he adds, "Our - special guest - " at this, his eyes sparkle mischievously, the corners of his mouth turning up in a nearly impish grin - " will regale us all with a tale of terror. . .sparing you, I might add, my endeavours, which I don't think I could muster after last year." He motions the figure forward.

Kifflen after all of the clapping, which she did join in once everyone else got started and feeling a bit bad about it for taking awhile at it. She glances around again once it dies down and doesn't feel quite as bad as she notices one fellow hasn't any costume at all. She smiles a bit at him, the most she seems to be doing tonight, and then turns again towards the crowd around the young Baggins on the chaise lounge as he explains what the first entertainment of the night shall be. Taking her drink with her, Kifflen wanders closer to the hosts again and settles herself somehow.

An interested grin spreads across Midien's face at Rotho's announcement of the tale to be told. Though she remains standing where she has been for some time by the couch, her glance is turned with a glint of curiosity in her eyes to the figure as Rotho motions him forward. Finding a small plushy chair next to where she stands, she smiles quietly as she takes a seat and then returns her gaze to Rotho and the figure he has introduced.

Rising from the seat, the wings appearing to almost stretch, as the cloaked spectre strides foward, motioning for several hobbits to exstinguish the candles about, except for one of course, which this beast grabs, between the fingers of his gloved hand. The stride appearing to be smooth, as if his feet did not touch the ground at all, a hiss of thank you to his cousin Rotho. The room growing dark, as the last of the candles are blown out, only one remaining. The free hand of this spectre pulls a table, and a chair setting the candle apon the table no doubt, and taking a seat apon the chair...a hiss to signifie silence, followed by a wave of a hand. The pale light, that stretches only a few feet, illuminates the sillouhette of this ghostly figure's form, only intensifying the terrifing scene. A pause...before a word is hissed, muffled to a degree, "A story, is to be told...of events both true, and terrifing... and for all to hear...of the gruesome reality, hidden within the dancing shadows of the night." A long pause...as the story begins.

The hooded figure in the corner watches, and waits.

As the lights of the room fall to nought, the cloaked healer shoots a glance to Henna - A teriffied glance, no doubt, though its emotion is only notable by its swift movement. Slowly the head pivots back to the winged figure - To Gravo - As the story begins to unfold.

Rotho glances toward the hooded figure, shivering suddenly and pulling his quilts more closely around his small frame.

Kifflen finishes her punch in the meantime, careful not to spill it on her chair. She suddenly wishes she had gotten something to eat before but it is of course too late now. She shivers at the darkness enveloping everyone but the odd visage of the disguised Gravo and waits for the story to come and sweep them even further down the dark road of imagination..

The emerald-clad dragon nods his head to Lilias and reaches an arm out and returns the hug, pulling her close and patting her shoulder. As the candles are extinguished, the room darkens and the last candle's light gleams in the eyes of the dragon, like two red flames in the darkness.

Tolmon looks around for an empty seat, quite ineffectively, as he listens to the narration from the storyteller. He bites his lip and folds his arms over his chest, sternly looking ahead and putting on his best expression of courage - but with the dim lighting and late hour, a small shiver escapes in spite of his efforts, and his attention does seem to be held by the speaker in nervous anticipation of the tale to come.

Henna shivers a bit at the cold feeling of the darkness, and returns the same terrified glance to the hooded figure beside her. Turning back to the storyteller, she listens in anticipation.

"Balmar - " Rotho whispers, trying to keep his voice down, "I'm cold. . .there's another quilt by the fire there. . .please. . . ."

The gloved hand, of this spectre reaches out, a long drawn out hiss, when he speaks, "7 years ago. . .on the aniversary of this night indeed, but not here. . . They say, there was 3 hobbits, whom were quite the best of friends. Veso, Iolo, and Trilo, were the three's names, taking an evening walk together, after a day of jolly smoking, and drinking and the like. There were just entering Bywater at this time, and they spotted a long beard, entering a small cottage. Oh they laughed, in ridicule of the dwarf, who seemed so horribly ugly to them, but then there was a sound of thudding from behind that cottage. Now this did not bother the three, as it was not to loud...but then there was a howl of pain, as if something was being beaten to death, with a blunt object no doubt....Well this did alarm the three hobbits, who were not use to hearing such terrifing, and shrill sounds in the night. Veso, was the one to first speak, 'And what was that friends? Do you think that dwarf was killing one of our fellow hobbits!' Trilo, responded to this absurd comment, "No no ofcourse not, it was probably just someone stubbing their toe, nothing to worry about indeed.' But Iolo did not agree, and began to walk to the cottage, motioning for his friends to follow. He knocked on the door several times." The figure taking this time, to knock apon the table loudly a few times...bang bang bang is the sound, as he continues, "But there was no sound at all. . . in response that is. Veso was the first one to speak once again, 'I do think we should check if anyone is hurt, that howl sounded terribly scary, we cannot allow a friend of ours to be left injuried with no one to care for him!' Well this time Trilo agreed, and actually was the first to scurry into the cottage, after opening the door of course. Within this cottage, there was many old fruniture, a heavy blanket of dust, as if a dozon years went by, without a good brooming of the place, spider webs all about, seemingly unbroken for years, those hideous creatures, scurrying across the floor, Trilo accidently stepping on a few, disgusted was he no doubt! Iolo, followed behind, opening a door or two, before seeing something of intrest, a something shineing in the pale moonlight no doubt, and he entered that room. For what he saw was just a pocket watch, gold was it...but he did not leave this room. . . Many minutes passed, and the search moved from searching for the hobbit who injuried himself no doubt, or the dwarf who came in, and Trilo was the next to check a few rooms, shouting his friends name over and over. There he came apon another room, a library of sorts, hundreds of books stacked to the top, searching of course through this. Until a loud thud, and a scream echoed through the house, from himself! For somehow, the books fell atop him...crushing his form with ease! Veso the only one having not gone into these rooms, hurried to his friends aid, but he found him dead...crushed by the heavyness of the books.....he began to weep, but then he ran as well, to the door...but it was LOCKED. He froze in panic, for but a second, as he felt the cold hand of the dwarf touch his shoudler, screaming he nearly fainted in shock, as this dwarf looked so pale, like a ghost of his form self. For it was indeed a ghost! The spirit before him, warned him of someone else in the house, but it was to late....a dagger plunging through Veso's heart, ended this adventure so easily. . .No one heard of these hobbits again. It took 5 years, till anyone visited this cottage again, no one seeing any use, until one child out of curiousity did...and found the gruesome scene...the three hobbits impaled apon wooden staves, all in a row, but they were but skeltons now. . .The shirrif of course was called...but the murderer was never found."

Midien listens intently as the 'beast' begins to weave the tale in the dimly lit room. Her ankles crossed below the chair as her feet barely miss touching the floor, she subconciouly leans forward, resting her arms on her knees lightly as she is enveloped in curiosity at the unfolding of the story, only bearing to part her attentions from it to occasionally glance about at the other hobbits surrounding the storyteller and the couch.

His head pivoting quickly to Rotho as he requests his quiet request, Balmar nods and stands, stumbling through the quiet darkness to the blazing fire. A soft blanket, he retreives, bringing it back to Rotho and spreading it across the lad's form. As he retakes his seat and Gravo continues the story, he shivers and pulls his feet onto the couch with him, huddling against Henna's form.

Shivering, Rotho glances over at the hooded figure once more, then at the storyteller, and at the cloaked figure nearby. As the figure brings his blanket, he snuggles under it more closely.

Lilias sighs, shuddering slightly, though apparently not from the altogether macabre tale of terror. "I'm sorry - " she murmurs to the dragon.

Gravo says, "And all that was left...within this cottage, that could be evidence, was a quilt. Much akin to the one, our host has right now, which was laid across the floor before the impaled hobbits!"

Rotho suddenly pushes the quilt away as if it were a blanket of live snakes.

"Gravo!" snaps Lilias angrily.

A grin spreads ever so slightly across Midien's face as she stifles a chuckle.

The beady eyes behind the dark of Balmar's cloaked figure turn to narrow flames as Gravo adds to the terrifiying tale. "Sir," he begins quietly, avoiding the use of the name of the obvious figure, "that wasn't necisarry." His speech carries a point with it, though only the beast best described as Gravo would pick it up.

The green dragon shudders noticeably and shakes his head at the tale. A gasp escapes his giant maw at the more gruesome depictions. The dragon hugs Lilias tighter, whether for her comfort or his own is uncertain.

Her eyes widening with horror throughout the story, Henna shudders at the end of the story, especially at the mentioning of the quilt, as she watches Rotho push his away.

Midien shifts a bit in her chair, a bit unnerved by the gruesome depictions, memories of the year's Hunt finding their way into her memory. She shuts her eyes tightly for a moment as she forces them from her mind

The figure in the cloak and cowl finally steps forward. Into the centre of the room he comes, at last revealing himself to the rest of the gathering. At last he speaks.

"I too have a tale, though more truthful than the last..." The figure slowly brings himself to remove his hood...

....and reveals himself to be none other than...

Still shivering, Rotho looks up at the figure in obvious confusion. A trace of - recognition? - flickers in his eyes. . .

...that's right, the hooded figure was in reality...

Midien looks up as the figure speaks and moves to remove his hood... The voice is so familiar...

...Wilby.

"Wilby?" asks Rotho curiously, eyeing the figure uncertainly.

"WILBY?!" shouts a rather dignified voice - Obviously Balmar - As he stands onto his furry feet, hood slightly tugged back from his face. "B-But thats impossible!" he exclaims, moving to walk to the figure. In mid-step, however, the cloaked healer sits back into his seat, incredible fear eating away at his bemused pools.

Indeed, it was Wilby, returned from who knows where, though oddly not himself... His face and hair were pale, and he was of a somber mood. "Yes Balmar, Rotho, it is me... I have come through many strange roads to come here, and I cannot stay but for a night. Now, my friends, I have a tale to tell..."

Midien gasps with a start and nearly squeaks in suprise at the suprise of Wilby's unveiling in the darkened room. The startled hobbit lass manages a word at seeing her deceased friend, "Wilby..???"

From the depths of the emerald dragon, the muffled words, "W..lby!" can be heard.

Lilias stares at the figure in confusion for a second before she turns cadaverously white, a scream escaping from her. "No! No - you CAN'T - no - "

Kifflen shivers through-out the story, eyes glittering with fear. Her fingers clutch the arms of her chair tightly at the end as she gasps softly at the quick addition of the quilt before recomposing herself a bit more, particularly when others comment on it. She looks over in surprise at the next figure to speak of telling a tale and luckily can't place the hobbit since she never really met him if at all. Still... once Rotho questions the name of who it is she becomes confused... wasn't something talked about, of a person of that name? Never found... She nearly jumps out of her seat as Balmar gets rather excited and others soon follow. She simply sinks as far back into her chair as possible and stares at.. Wilby.

Sensing something decidedly wrong, Rotho suddenly curls into a tight ball, watching Wilby with a terrified expression.

Watching anxiously as the figure reveals himself, Henna freezes at the sight of Wilby. She makes no sound other than a frightented gasp.

Tolmon, thoroughly spooked by the last story (as can be clearly discerned from the pale shade of his skin and his wide eyes), looks even more bewildered with the Wilby's revelation and the reactions of the hobbits around him - the story hasn't even started yet! However, since he doesn't have a costume and already feels out of place, he too lets out a huge gasp, clapping a hand to his mouth and looking, for all intents and purproses, shocked.

As she realises the figure has suddenly - vanished? slipped away? - Lilias gasps something about 'candles!' and starts to go to Rotho, suddenly going even whiter as she faints. . . .

Green_Dragon gasps in shock as the figure that is Wilby makes his reappearance and just as quickly slips out... like the wind.

Fright quakes Balmar's cloaked frame, huddled beside Henna still. The very fur of his feet seem to stand fully erect as the form of the - dead? - hobbit disappears into the blackest of nights. He makes no movement nor does he speak any words, save the unstoppable shiver within his muscles.

Tolmon gasps again, and whips his head about a few times - to give the impression of looking around in a frantic, panicked state, then folds his arms over his chest defiantly. "What a shock!" the little hobbit exclaims loudly, substituting volume for authenticity of emotion, and then settles back into his seat like nothing at all happened. "On with the party!"

Midien stares in shock as she realizes that there is.. a deceased.. hobbit.. standing before them, and then starts unnervedly as Wilby seems to suddenly slip away - or disappear.. she cannot decide upon which she has seen - into nothingness. She looks about nervously at the other hobbits, and sees Lilias collapse. She rises to her feet and shakily tries to hurry over to her stumbling a bit in her nervousness, "Mrs Lilias!"

Just like the others around her, Henna notices that the figure, presumed to be Wilby, is gone. Terrified, she looks around the dark room and leans in closer to Balmar.

Kifflen wriggles in her seat with nervous confusion the whole time Wilby is speaking. Before the tale is even started her feet are on the chair and her knees are drawn to her chest by the sole comfort of her own arms. And even that isn't quite enough. Her face has been buried into her skirt out of pure, simple fear. She was already shaken up by the tale before and thus this newly indicated one seems all the worse. Especially since it implies... quite a lot. Then she hears gasps and.. a thump? Raising her head to see what has happened, finding sudden courage in curiousity, she blinks as she realizes... that nothing is where the hobbit stood. Looking at the others she sees the same shock mirrored on their faces and glancing at her position feels glad most of the lights are out. Uncurling herself she glances around and notices that Lilias has .. fallen... no fainted.

Turning suddenly, Rotho gasps, "Mother!" Attempting to rise, he nearly loses his own balance and sinks back onto the couch -

Another gasp, and swiftly does the cloaked beast, which in reality is Gravo Baggins, leap from his seat, to his Aunt Lilias, who has just fainted! Shouting for others to help, of course.

A gasp escapes the dragon's lips and he rushes forward, his green hands pushing up on his jaw, his mouth opening wider and wider as he hurries forward, until the head falls right off! and lands with a thump on the floor, revealing noneother than Frodo Baggins underneath. "Aunt Lilias!" he exclaims, kneeling at her side on the floor.

"Frodo - here - " calls Rotho anxiously, attempting to hand him a small vial. "It's a smelling salt - she made me have it in my pocket just in case I - this might help - "

Midien shakily pulls off her jacket and folds it feebly as she gently places it beneath Lilias's head as she kneels next to her with Mister Baggins.

Balmar's eyes shoot over to Lilias as she falls to the ground, his brain ordering his muscles to assist her, though they disobey. Alas, he is unable to pull loose from Henna's grasp - By his own good sense - His head frantically pivoting in all different directions.

Realizing that Lilias has fainted, Henna jumps from the sofa and hurries over to Lilias. She looks at her helplessly, almost panicking.

Kifflen notices that there are three.. now four hobbits already around Missus Lilias Baggins and decides to not only give the lady some room but to leave her in their care, for better or worse. Not that she herself really could have helped much. Glancing around a little more in bewilderment she finally notices Tolmon's current lack of... what in the good, green grass is he doing? He almost appears nonchalant! Blinking she oddly enough feels like taking offense but instead approaches the bland hobbit with a few steps and her quieted voice, "Are ye not scared atall?"

Midien's dark eyes betray deep concern as she sits next to Lilias upon the floor. She looks up from her to Frodo for a moment, then to Rotho as he calls for him, her eyes soon refixing on the fallen Mrs Baggins.

"Oh, now what?" Tolmon offers, crawling up on his seat as a hoard of hobbits crowd around Lilias. He continues to mutter to himself as he stands on his toes, trying to see over the swarm and get a good view of the action. A small glance is cast down at Kifflen as soon as he's assessed the situation. "Scared? Why should I be, miss? Hobbits pass out all the time in the pubs - I don't see why this is any different! Over-drinkin' ain't frightening, just irresponsible, if you ask me!"

Rotho's pallid countenance jerks upward at this. "How DARE you?" he exclaims. "My mother is NOT drunk!!! Though YOU, I would suspect, most CERTAINLY are! Kindly apologise or LEAVE at ONCE!"

Frodo Baggins looks up and takes the vial from Rotho, "Thank you Rotho." he says, his eyes trying to be reassuring as he looks at Rotho. Quickly, he undoes the stopper of the vial and hands it to Gravo who is closer to her. "Rotho.. what is wrong? Is this common?" he asks, looking up.

Midien shoots a firey glance at tolmon as he has misjudged the situation VERY harshly.

Backing herself up to give Lilias some space, Henna glares furiously up to Tolmon, but says nothing, leaving it at what Rotho said.

Rotho shakes his head firmly. "No, no. . .Mamma almost NEVER faints. . .it's. . .I think it scared her too much. . ." Shaking, he starts to cry. "There was a - a story - and I suppose she thought he was - it was about a ghost who came to take someone's son - it upset her so much then that I suppose - "

A sigh comes from the only other hobbit not helping Missus Baggins tonight. Kifflen shakes her head at Tolmon before wandering a little closer to the others after directing her words at the Brownlock, "Ye are likely drunk as our host has said and luckily the room is dark. Aheh says ye musta been se frightened ye didn't see a thehng."

At last Balmar's form falls from the couch, body pulled tightly around its self. Gasping he crawls along the floor - Like an ashamed child - And snakes his way to Lilias. "Ohhfufhdarn," he mumbles through lips unwilling to talk. Gingerly and shakily he takes the vial from Gravo and places it below both nostrils of the ladyhobbit.

Tolmon puts his hands on his hips, and stares down at Rotho, not at all imposing and seeming, quite genuinely this time, to be at a loss. "Well, sir, I'll rightly appologize if you'll tell me what all's wrong with her if it ain't drink. He didn't even tell his story, and ran off into the dark. Strange behavior, perhaps, but it weren't exactly light enough in the room to see much." And, of course, his breath does betray a small hint of alcohol, so such accusations are justified - though he doesn't seem to mean any harm by his statements.

Deciding against giving Tolmon's unfounded remark any more attention than it is due, she turns again to Frodo, the newly approached Balmar, and others as her concerned gaze is once again fixed upon Missus Baggins.

Her eyes slowly opening, Lilias looks around. "Balmar? Where's Rotho? Is he all right? What - happened? Why am I - " She looks around. "The party - oh, by the Shire - " Her face whitening once more, she goes silent, though remaining quite conscious. "I *do* remember. . ."

Looking up, Frodo frowns, "Please.. Rotho.. calm down... our friend here obviously misunderstands the situation." he says.

An attempt to explain to Tolmon is made by Kifflen, walking a little closer to the standing fellow as it is made clear he doesn't understand the significance of the name Wilby. "Ye've just seen a lost hobbit what es consedered dead Aheh thinks."

"But - Frodo, please tell him!" insists Rotho anxiously. "That's my MOTHER he's talking about!"

Slipping past Lilias and the crowd around her, Henna goes over by Rotho, trying to calm him down. Her gaze remains between Rotho and Tolmon as they argue, yet she looks with concern toward Lilias.

A servant lass brings in a few candles, lighting the room a bit.

"I-I-I-I-Its alright M-M-M-M-Miss Baggins," Balmar stutters, his hood tossed back long ago. "J-J-J-J-Just relax here," he says, comforting as best he can. Shakily he stands to his feet, vial discarded, and falls onto the couch, form too shaky and weak to move*

The room is very dark and several hobbits are gathered about the form of Lilias who lies upon the floor.

"Really, now - I'm *fine* - just a bit - shaken up, is all," Lilias insists. "Frodo, if you'd be so kind as to help me to my room for a bit, I'll be quite all right. You really must go on with the party. . .as I said, I don't want a lot of food left about. . ."

Tolmon blinks. And simply doesn't do much else, though any close observers may notice the color draining from his cheeks and, once again, his eyes growing a bit wider. "A missing, dead hobbit? Well, that changes things a bit, don't it?" He slinks back down to a sitting position to meditate over this revelation.

Squeaking open the door just a smidge, Lilly Took enters--fashionably late. Blinking in the darkness, she flinches back toward the door, her long curls bobbing about her face. Biting her lip, a mark of sudden shyness, the Took lass takes a deep breath and re-enters the room, closing the door softly behind her. Spotting Lilias in her distressed state, Lilly brings her tiny hand to her lips. "Oh my," she whispers hoarsely. "This is the concequence of being late!"

"Lilly?" asks Rotho, turning at the sound of the voice. "Lilly. . .is that you over there?"

Kifflen is thankful for the renewed light, though it isn't a lot, and keeps her gaze wavering between everyone in the room. She hasn't noticed any additional guests just yet. She notices Tolmon's change and nods to what Frodo said earlier, though she is nodding more to herself. More a case of misunderstanding. Tolmon might consider it solemn, silent affirmation if he takes notice. Looking around she notices the movements by the door and sees Lilly enter. Kifflen can't hear the whisper of course and doesn't quite recognize the new lass even if she has simply seen her walking by before.

Looking up from Lilias's side, Frodo glances at the new arrival and gives a faint smile. His attention is immediately drawn back to Lilias and he nods his head, "Of course Lilias, here.. just lend me your arm now," he says as he reaches under her to lifte her to her feet, "and put all of your weight on me." he says, looking at Gravo and the others, "Any help would be appreciated my dear hobbits." he says, biting his lips.

Midien rises from the floor and tries her best to help support Mrs Lilias with Frodo.. as best as her small frame can. She smiles to lilly as she enters, "Hello Lilly!"

Nodding, Lilias rises carefully, leaning against Frodo's arm, balancing against Midien. "Thank you, dears. . .Rotho, sweetheart - I'm fine, just go on with the party - I'll come back the moment you need me - "

"Oh my," says Lilly again, her voice this time piping up to a high timbre, and breaking. Fanning herself furiously, though her hand trembles, she breathes heavily, blinking. "I--" she begins, swiveling her head uncertainly towards Rotho. "Yes, Rotho, dear, it is me, cousin... but... oh, I do dislike scary gatherings such as this... it evokes so many devastating memories." Lilly stills her hand, then puts it to her heart, "By the Shire, I expected--something different."

Falling back against the plush cushions of the couch, a long, shuddery sigh escapes Balmar's lungs just as a few beads of moisture smear across the green velvet of his eyes.

"It's a story I'd rather save for. . .for daylight," Rotho replies weakly. "Believe me, do you think I'd have planned this after - after last year?"

Looking over his shoulder as he leads Lilias to her room, with Midien's help, Frodo sees poor Balmar. "Whatever is wrong with Mister Grubb?" he asks her. "Is he alright? he looks simply dreadful!" he says, leading her down the hall.

Seeing that Lilias is fine and being escorted back to her room, Henna returns to her seat beside Balmar.

Midien settles her shoulders in a supportive position as she moves gingerly in step, trying as best as hobbitly possible not to jostle the distressed Lilias much as she helps to move her to her room. Turning to look behind them at Frodo's words, she catches sight of poor Balmar as the same pondering thought enters her own mind.

Kifflen isn't really quite sure what to do. Also noting that Lilias is being escorted away, the lass sits back down in her chair nervously watching everyone else now, particularly Balmar.

Propping herself up against the door, letting it absorb her weight, Lilly sighs and submits. Her face, having gone a sheet-white pallor, seems drawn and devoid of the youth and cheer it typically displays. "Of course I wouldn't think so, dear Rotho--" the Took lass says, her voice nearly inaudible. "I'm merely in a state of shock."

Tolmon scrunches his brow in the most confused manner, heads over to Kifflen, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. "What's wrong with that fellow, then?" he asks, motioning to Balmar. "He weren't looking so bad before! Did someone else come back from the dead?" He keeps his voice down this time, not wanting to be kicked out before he gets a shot at the food and drink.

Noticing the tears in Balmar's eyes as well, Henna turns to him with a troubled expression. "What is bothering you, dear?" She asks anxiously, confused by his expression.

"I didn't think you were coming," Rotho murmurs faintly in Lilly's direction.

The attention generated about him goes unbeknownst as Balmar continues to shake against the giving form of the couch. No words seem to reach him until Henna speaks. Slowly he turns and pulls the lass into a tight embrace, though no words are uttered from his mouth.

Willow Took enters into the room, her arms laiden with a basket and several burdonsome bags. "Hello everyone." she grunts as she struggles to sopport her armload. Stepping backwards, she runs into one of the beams and the basket tumbles to the ground, spilling seedcakes and strawberry tarts everywhere. "Oh dear," frowns Willow, "Now that's done it!"

Returning from the back hall, Frodo yawns and rubs his eyes with his floppy green gloves. His costume looke even more absurd sans head and he bends over and picks up the dragon head lying on the floor and tucks it under his arm. "Wull... she'll be fine. Just a bit of excitement it seems. Just let her rest. Now Rotho... she tells us we are to keep on with the party. Are you up to it?" he asks, smiling down at the lad. "I didn't get dressed up for nothing." he adds with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Henna puts her arms around Balmar and hugs him in return. "Please... tell me what is wrong." Her expression is still troubled, even though it is not seen, but her worried voice shows it perfectly.

Rotho nods. "I - I think so. . .since you're all here. . .let's do. . ." He smiles. "Perhaps someone might tell an - amusing story for a chance of pace?"

Kifflen looks up at Tolmon upon being nudged lightly. Her face tries not to mirror the confusion present in everyone else's looks and fails easily, "Aheh don't know what's a matter with that fellow, truth be told." She glances at Balmar again, hearing Henna's question if possible. She blinks as Willow appears and Frodo returns.

Lilly frowns slightly, the corners of her gentle lips turning down into a pout. She furrows her brows, and a flash of anger seems to kindle in her dark eyes, for only a moment. Then, her gaze becomes placid. "Rotho," she says, her voice more sure. "I wouldn't miss this--I know how important it is to you, you know. Why--" but she stops, and stands away from the door, as Willow comes through, and wrestles with her cloak to remove it. "Well, I'm here now--though I couldn't get a costume..." she says with a sudden look to Frodo, a shadow of a grin alighting on her face.

The sound of giggle comes behind Frodo. "Come here my pretty!" cackles Terabethia. She is dressed in a long black gown, with a matching cape and hat.

"I-I-I-I just..." Balmar's voice trails in resolve, his eyes staring deep into Henna's. He continues to quiver, his eyes telling all that his voice cannot. "Perhaps its nothing," he says after a silence, long, laying back against the couch and drawing a deep breath into his lungs.

The Took lass rejoins the gathering of partygoing hobbits, peeping out again from the hallway and looking about at the faces. She looks for a curious moment at poor Balmar, but smiles slightly as she decides against saying anything, as he appears rather attatched to Henna at the moment. Seeming to have finally regained her composure after the events of the evening, she scoops up her coat from the floor, quickly pulling it back on before looking up as Willow enters with a wide smile. "Willow! Hello there!... Oh!.. Oh dear!" She stifles a slight chuckle as she walks over to help her friend with the fallen tarts and seedcakes.

"That's all right, Lilly - I know you - oh! Can you believe Tera?" Rotho murmurs. His smile fading abruptly, he pulls the quilts more closely over himself, shivering. "My, but it's cold in here. . . ." Going strangely quiet, he leans back against the sofa-back, closing his eyes tightly, though he clearly remains awake.

Henna nods understandingly to Balmar, placing her hand on his shoulder to help calm his shakiness.

"Oh Hullo there, Lilly" notions Willemina, though for a moment, she winces. "Bruised my knee yesterday and it's been rather testy and the basket and bags o' mine haven't helped any. Thank the Shire that they're all wrapped up in birchbark, so they'll still be suitable to eat and who could refuse the cokking that the Thain himself complimented?"

A large sigh comes from Tolmon, and he sits down next to Kifflen, taking solace in the company of someone just as confused as he is. "See now, the fellow's saying nothing's the matter at all." He rolls his eyes. "That's what happens when people tell unnatural stories in the middle of the night - I'll be sticking to my ale and Inns from now on, I assure you!" And he stands and, quite promptly (and, likely to no one's dismay), marches out.

Fumbling, and finally managing to remove her cloak, Lilly sighs deeply. Her dark eyes move about the room nervously, meeting most faces with a slight grin, but the uncertainty in her gait and gaze are quite clear. She awkwardly sits down, scratching behind her ear, and folds her hands on her lap. "... it seems I missed quite... the event," Lilly finally manages.

Kifflen decides for the moment she at least partially agrees with Tolmon. She's had quite a night and it's pretty near morning now, or so it seems. Bowing to the crowd, she pulls her shawl closer about her shoulders. "Aheh think aheh'll be goeng as well. Good night to ye all." With that she hands Willow two more cakes near the doorway on her way out and closes the door behind her.

Still silent, Rotho suddenly loosens his grip on the quilts, looking decidedly pale.

"Well, perhaps the guests would like try one of my seedcakes or tarts," says Willow, though now she seems slightly nervous.

Still holding Henna tightly to his form, Balmar's breathing eases and at last he relaxes comfortably against the couch.

Pushing past Frodo, Terabethia runs straight to Rotho's bed. Her witch's hat flies to the floor as she gasps, "Oh blast not again. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to come sooner."

Smiling weakly to Balmar as he returns to normal, she turns suddenly at Terabethia's panicked voice. Rushing over to his side, she asks, "Rotho, are you alright? You are looking awfully pale.."

Rotho seems not even to hear Terabethia, though he attempts to murmur something. Suddenly he slides limply to the side of the couch, as if limp as a child's rag-doll.

"Oh dear," mutters Lilly, her voice sounding eerily like Lilias Baggins's at the moment. She watches, weary-eyed, towards Rotho, but makes no motion to move and join the acruing throng. "I--I best just stay here... ah... dear Frodo? What is going on?"

Looking up, panick strewn across his newly composed face, Balmar leaps from his seat. "Rotho?" he inquires urgently. "Oh dear - Someone get Carnation!" he shouts, gently taking the lad into his arms. Standing he begins his way down the hall..

Nodding his head, Frodo turns to the newcomers, "Ah... good.. er, morning Miss Took.. er, Tooks." he corrects himself, "And Miss Branydbuck as well!" he adds, "Yes.. quite an evening it has been I should say." he says taking an offered strawberry tart gratefully, oblivious to poor Rotho at the moment.

The tension in the room seeming to have dispelled some, Midien tugs on her sleeves a bit as she walks over to, for the moment silently, take a seat in a chair nearby the couch, making sure to be careful not to sit on the tails of her coat. The difficulties she would have if she were to return it very wrinkled. Henna's remark catching her attention, she looks up at the gathering of hobbits next to her and her mouth suddenly drops open with a gasp as Rotho falls limp. She looks to Henna with a look of concern and then back to Rotho, not knowing exactly what to do and feeling rather helpless sitting there... "Rotho??...." She looks up at Balmar, "Where is Carnation right now?"

Midien looks back to Henna after Balmar's hasty departure helplessly, wishing she knew what to do to help...

Panic-stricken, Henna hurries down the hall and knocks on the door of Reynard's room before running in. You can hear frightened voices talking quickly, then Henna and Carnation follow Balmar into Rotho's room

"Balmar, you're going to have to manage - " Carnation's voice can be heard sharply. "I wish I could, but - by the Shire - " Quickly she hurries back down the hall.

Lilly sinks into the couch, distressed, and leans against the palm of her heand. "I--" she begins, but stops short, her words finding no audience... Reaching for a tart, she eyes it boredly. "Another day," she mutters--the words sounding much like a poem.

"She's woth Uncle Reynard," replies Willemina as she sets her bundles on the floor. Rushing to the enterance, her knee gives way. "Cousin Willow, "I'll get her, you stay here with Lily and Frodo" says Tera with a wink.

"Carnation," calls Terabethia as she hears her voice, "Please come here."

The slender figure of the head healer steps back into the hall. "Tera. . .love, I'm so sorry. . .believe me, I feel torn, but - please. Go to them. I've got to be with your uncle; we aren't at a point where I can slip out without endangering him - "

Moments pass, in which no sounds can be heard, and then the urgent opening and shutting of a door echo down the hall. "Lilly?" he inquires quickly, anxiety richly saturating his tones. "Rotho wants you with him..."

"Carnation, but listen," stammers the distressed Bramdybuck, "I know not wha t to do but hold his hand. Has Uncle Reynard told you what he meant to do with that flask?"

Quickly Carnation slides it into Terabethia's hand. "It's the same stuff he always gives him - but with a bit of something that - oh, what's her name - recommended; the one related to Hagitha. . .though I believe it's very similar to what we've given him before. . . ."

Standing slowly, moving each joint with calculated grace, Lilly stands as tall as hobbitly possible. She smooths the front of her shirt, and grits her teeth. "I'll... go see him," she says evenly, but her eyes look faraway and decidedly sad. She opens her mouth to say something more, but shakes her head and heads for Rotho. When she reaches him, she kneels down by him, putting her hand on the quilt. "I'm here, cousin..."

Gathering up his dragon's head, Frodo frowns at it and then shrugs, putting back on. "Wull... I best be heading home." he says, his voice muffled by the mask. Turning his ruby gaze upon Lilly and the others left in the room, he bows deeply at the waist. "Until the next time.. " he says. "please pass a word to dear Lilias that I shall come by in a day to visit again." he says.

Balmar returns quickly to Rotho's room, following Lilly, with more urgency than her grace will allow. A moment passes before he rushes out of the room in the direction of the kitchen - Ravenous eyes in search of something on their way.

Crouching down, Willow begins to weep softly, "The poor kiddo...I know he adors me to death, but Lilly hasn't seen him for some time." Turning to Frodo, she nods, "Good day, Mr. baggins...We'll let you know how he is."

Midien rises from her chair, mostly for need of something to do in the ensuing commotion, as she turns a glance towards the hallway as Carnation's voice can be heard speaking to Terabethia. She sets herself back down again, almost plopping down in the chair, as she rests her elbows on her knees and face in her hands, feeling rather helpless and not enjoying the sensation in the least. She hears the voices in the hall, as she sits and knows not what to do but hope by all the Shire that Rotho will be well. Her eyes peeking out from over the tops of her fingers, she looks about the room as she tries desperately to find something else to think about.

His countenance eerily spectral in the dim light, Rotho finally opens his eyes. "Lilly?" he whispers hoarsely.

Patting Rotho's hand very gently, her fingers still ink-stained, Lilly forces a smile. Her eyes aglow with adoration for her sweet cousin, she whispers, "Shh, Rotho--yes, it's me... Lillianda S. Took, at your service, sir." Chuckling slightly, then sobering, she cocks her head in his direction. "What is it that you want, cousin?"

"I'll go, Caration...though is that Willow crying? Perhaps you should talk to her," suggests Tera as she heads towards the bedroom.

"I - Lilly, I'm - so afraid. . ." His eyes fluttering shut once more, he forces them open again. "I don't know - "

"Send her here - " Carnation pleads, stepping back into the room. "Tera, I can't leave him - or I'd come be with Rotho - "

"Oh, shhh, just lie still, dear, just lie still." Looking up and around her, Lilly demands, "Isn't there anything anyone can do to make him more comfortable?" Turning her attention back to her cousin, she pokes his nose gently. "I'm here, don't be afraid, my brave Bullroarer Baggins..."

"Bullroarer?" Rotho murmurs with a slight smile. "I wish. . ." His eyes closing once more, he attempts to say something more, but seems too weak to continue.

"No need, Carnation" mutters Willemina as she stands in front of the healer. "Rotho's ill, but he called for Lilly...I know he hasn't seen her in ages, but I promised to stay at his side as well...though if he doesn't want me to, then I'll just...go see Uncle Reynard." She makes a weak attempt to hide her tears and saddness.

The door to Rotho's room almost bursts open once more, Balmar entering, of course, with a basin of water and a towel in hand. "Here," he murmurs blurredly, placing the basin on the table and soaking the towel within it. Gently he begins to bathe the lad's scorched forehead, paying Lilly little mind.

Lilly even seems suddenly too weak herself. She lowers her head, and closes her eyes, her dark lashes wet with new tears. Swallowing hard, she speaks through her breaking voice, "Oh, Rotho, shh, now... shhh..." is all she can manage.

Nearly in tears herself, Carnation steps back in, saying something in soft, urgent tones before turning back out to Willow. "If he - well, Willow, just - do pay close attention, please - dear - "

"I don't follow you, Carnation," replies the Took, "Pay close attention to Rotho's condition or do you have something to tell me?"

Struggling to do two things at once, Carnation leans back out. "Precisely. . ." Pulling the Took lass closer, she whispers something to her.

Terabethia huddles on the floor beside Rotho's bed, unable to do anything but weep. The slender shape of a vixen emerges from the tent of Rotho's quilt. Climbing up the pillows, she begins to lick Rotho's pale face.

The sounds from the hall creeping slowly to the ears of the young hobbit outside in the main room, Midien draws her head down once more to bury her face in her hands, as there seems to be nothing else that she can find to think of at this time... and she cannot help but worry for the poor fellow. She ponders leaving to be out of their way, but where would she go yet? She heard earlier last night that the Green Dragon at Bywater is full, and she knows not of anywhere else within walking distance before nightfall to stay. Shutting her eyes tightly, she tries not to think of things .. long past... as it would merely make tears harder to hold back at this time. Perhaps there will be yet someting she can do to help... if in any way at all, she knows she would.

"Lilly. . .I've. . .missed. . .you," Rotho murmurs at last. At Fiona's touch, he slowly opens his eyes. "Fiona. . ."

To no avail, it seems, that Balmar bathes Rotho's face so determinedly, though he continues to do so dillegently. "Sh, shhhhh," he comforts quietly, eyes shifting to Lilly for only a moment before returning to the sick lad under his care.

"Miss - Took, is it?" asks a male voice from behind Midien. Basil Baggins stands in the entrance, glancing down the hall. "Whatever is going on? I thought everyone would be asleep at such an hour - "

Nodding, Willemina rushes off towards Rotho's bedroom. Standing in the doorway her almond eyes scan the room, though the long off sadness in them doesn't change.

"As did I," replied a voice, the other side of Midien. There stands Clodo Baggins, night-clothes worn, candle in hand. "Whatever is keeping our guests up so late?"

Terabethia's body begins to vibrate rapidly. Crying, she casts off her cape and stands. Then without saying a word, she runs out of the room.

"And, I've... missed you, Rotho," Lilly says, biting her lip ferociously... but says little more. She glances up at Basil, her eyes filled to the brim with tears, and she nods wordlessly... the look in her eyes speaking volumes of desperation, loss, and sadness.

Midien looks up quickly, her eyes darting between the two hobbits with a bit of a forced smile, her thoughts broken by the voice from behind her and she finds herself brushing the beginnings of tears from her dark eyes a bit embarassedly. She nods to Basil, "Yes... My name is Midien..." She looks at the two of them for a moment with saddened eyes, "Poor Rotho... His party was going rather well, save an odd entrance from a one deceased Wilby Pott... when he slumped limp in his chair,," Her gaze l ooking for a fleeting moment at the couch, before returning it to them, ".. as a rag doll he was... but I do not know exactly what is happening. I only know of his condition what I heard while in the Healing House..." The young hobbit lass looks down at her hands with a sigh, her eyes threatening tears again, "By all the Shire I hope he is all right..."

As Fiona continues licking his face, Rotho lifts his hand weakly. "All right, now. . .Tera? Willow?. . .Can you. . .take her?. . . Where's. . .Licorice?"

Tears never seem to wholeheartedly fall from Lilly's eyes. She bites her lip, her brows furrowed in constant struggle against the show of emotion. But her voice--her gentle poet's voice--is strained. "I'm... I'm not sure of what to do... I..." she stammers, wiping a trembling hand across her forehead. "It's been so long..."

"Oh *dear*!" Clodo exclaims worriedly, setting his candle to the stone ground and coming to Midien's side. "I - This has happened before... The poor lad... Perhaps I should go and check on him..." His voice trails as he seems to contemplate o pening the door upon which his hand rests.

A firm hand grabs Terabethia by the arm. "Terabethia, you stay here!" shouts Willow, "Rotho needs you to be there with him." Shaking her head, the young Brandybuck lass shouts histerically, "No...I can't take it...he's going to die!" Pulling her cousin aside, Willow points her right index finger at Terabethia's face, "Listen now, you don't know that for a fact and he needs you. Now come with me, allright?" Terabethia nods quietly as she follows Willow back into the room. "Licorice is beside you, luv," remarks Willow, "And of course I'll have Fiona taken to Uncle Reynard's room." Then looking to Tera, she whispers to Rotho, " You need to talk to her, she's in hysterics over what happend."

"Tera. . .what. . .is it?" Rotho asks slowly. Suddenly he looks at the others. "What. . .happened?. . .I felt so. . .strange. . .and then. . . ."

Balmar's tears come to pass as Tera and Willow enter the room. An exhasporated sigh passes his mouth as he stands and promptly runs out the door, knocking Clodo right onto his bumm as he passes. Surprisingly, though, the hobbit with the ruddy, tearstained face returns to Rotho, a steaming bowl of soup in hand. The fear in his eyes is replaced with determination and he sits beside Rotho, immeadeatly placing a spoonful of broth to the lad's unhealthilly hued lips.

Scootching over, to make more room for Balmar, Lilly watches Rotho intently, but does not say a word. She merely holds his hand tight, her index finger absently tracing the ring that sits there...

"Now, dear, there'll be quite the coterie in there as 'tis," Basil says smoothly to Midien. "Could I interest you in a hot drink, perhaps? Or something to eat? If you like, I can show you to a room for the night, though I wouldn't mind some company first. . . ."

"Rotho," stamers Terabethia, "I'm sorry...I just got scared. W-Willow knows best and can I just sit and hold your hand? No need to talk if you don't want to."

Standing and brushing off his shirt and bumm, Clodo says, "Ermph.. Yes.. Indeed." He nods with worried eyes in agreement and comes to stand beside Basil and Midien. "I do beleive much food was left over from the party," he notes with ravenous e yes in the direction of the sitting room.

Rotho nods. "Please. . ." Swallowing the spoonful of broth, he pulls the sleepy pup a bit closer, then takes Tera's hand, pressing both hers and Lilly's, though the pressure is scarcely more than a slight movement of the fingers. A bit of colour returns to his pallid countenance.

Midien starts suddenly and shifts in the chair with anxiety as she hear Terabethia shout, and she presses her fingers firmly against her eyes as tears begin to overtake her. Clumsily brushing her wrists across her cheeks, she rubs them from her face, though finding it difficult to look up. "Poor Rotho... Before?... You don't think...?" She looks down, hoping to hide that Tera's shout troubled her as it did, and the tears that she is having difficulty restraining. AFter a moment, she looks up again after brushing her eyes again, She nods slowly to Basil and Clodo, "Oh.. I do thank you so much.. Perhaps that would be well indeed..." Midien manages a small, though rather sheepish smile, and says with a bit of a shrugg, "Indeed I would not mind sitting up a bit more... I doubt that I could find sleep yet besides."

Looking across to Terabethia, Lilly smiles meekly. She then turns to Rotho, "Yes good... that's the best thing you can do now, Rotho, is to really eat something that'll build you up..." She swallows hard, splotches of red fading now on her cheeks from her recent flush of emotion. "You already look so much better..."

Fiona growls and snaps at Willow as she tries to lift her off the bed. Then she turns away and places her black booted paws on Rotho's chest. "Come on, Fiona," sighs the Took as she makes another attempt to pick up the fox.

Nodding in agreement, Clodo takes Midien's hand and leads her to the main room, food still generously strewn about the tables. "Here we are," he notes, taking a seat immedeatly and placing a seedcake in his mouth with a gulp.

Managing a faint nod, Rotho comments, "I think. . .she's trying. . .to help. . .sorry. . . ." Swallowing another spoonful of broth, he lies quietly for a moment before adding, "Do I?" Glancing back at Tera, he comments, "See now? Lilly. . .says. . . ."

"Oh by the Shire you do!" replies Terabethia in a quivering, but relieved tone.

"A silly scare," Basil smirks, picking up a popcorn ball and munching merrily. "Hysterics and the like, you know. . .that's all. . . ."

The door of the cottage opens and a hooded figure walks into the main room... removing his hood it is apparent that it is none other than Wilby! Stepping inside he mutters, "Sorry, I had to leave for a while..." Thinking for a moment he finally says, "I appologise for my absence, I was under much stress. Now... where was I?"

Looking down with admiration at her cousin, Lilly nods. "Yes, and what I say goes. Now, drink up. Eat up. Bullroarer Baggins must eat lots of broth to ride a full sized horse, you know." Lilly suddenly chuckles, her laughter splitting the tragic haze in the room. "Although I can hardly picture you on a horse, dear Rotho! Hardly at all!"

Eyes widening, Basil drops his popcorn ball. "I - I - th-th-th-that's. . ."

"Why, WILBY?!" Clodo questions, eyes wide. His surprise soon passes, though, and he stands. "You- Nooo... You can't be *the* Wilby," he notes, scrutiny running deep in his tones.

Midien slowly sits down in a chair by one of the tables and nods feebly, Basil's words indeed comforting her mind at the moment. She takes hold of a seedcake and is about to begin picking at it... when she turns with a start to the sounds of a familiar voice... and in her current state is unable to stifle a broken, squeaky scream.

Her head shakes with dark eyes wide as she attempts defiance of what she thinks simply cannot be... "No... No you're not! Wilby's dead!" The seedcake drops to the floor.

A weak smile warms Rotho's wan complexion. "A horse?. . .Not. . .on. . .your. . .life!" Still smiling, he takes another spoonful of broth, swallowing before adding, "If. . .Tera. . .if you. . .wouldn't mind. . .staying. . ." He looks at Lilly once more. "Maybe. . .would you mind. . .seeing to Mamma?. . .If she finds out. . . . Please? And. . .stay for just. . .a couple of days?. . . Long enough. . .for me to. . .well, I've. . .missed you so, please. . . ."

The hooded figure, now known to be Wilby come back from who-knows-or-wants-to-know-where, clears his throat and says, "Yes, the story... now you all stop screaming so I can talk..."

Frozen, Basil stammers something like, "W-w-w-wi-wi. . .", falling into a nearby chair.

Wilby looks sadly at the Baggins. "Basil, Basil... that's just like you. Now, if no one minds..."

"Story?" Clodo inquires, coming closer to the pale hobbit (Thought most ASSUREDLY keeping his distance). "I thought- You're not dead?"

Snatching the tempermental fox finaly, Willow dissappears with her out into the hall. Several monets later she returns beside Rotho's bed. Feint grey bagd hang under her eyes, revealing weariness and stress that somehow concealed itself until now. "Carnation's with Uncle Reynard," she tells them, though her gaze is fixiated to the wall, "He's a bit lucid at the moment..."

"My, you look so much better," Lilly says, gleefully. "I'm sure we'll take care of all that, Rotho... what is it?" She studies his face a moment.

Wilby thinks, then says, "I don't know how to answer that... but I will speak now."

Wilby says, "I have learned much in my travels, on roads I do not wish to recall to mind. Now I will tell you the history of what happened to me..."

Wilby spoke. "Long ago none dwelt in this land. The Fair Folk passed through in ages past, but none tarried long before passing into the West and South. For ages these lands were devoid of inhabitants."

"Of course I'll stay," replies Terabethis, clasping her hands over Rotho's thin hands, "Lilly, w-we could use your help, especially with Willow having to report to Michel delving, though she doesn't want to. She hates that reporter's job of hers."

Continuing to feed spoonful after spoonful of soup to Rotho - Until the bowl is empty - Balmar reamins quiet, eventually resuming the bathing of the lad's face.

Her eyes glazed as she stares blankly at the hooded figure... wilby... Midien's hands begin to shake fervently. She shuts her eyes tightly for a brief moment, as if wondering if to awaken from a dream, though reopening them for them to merely to retain their blank and expressionless stare at the.. spectre hobbit... No. Such things are not possible. How could it be...? She remains looking at him, unable to do anything but listen with her dark eyes wide.

"Could we. . .maybe. . .do something?. . .Like we used to?" Rotho manages, gaining some strength. "Please? Just. . .maybe. . . tea. . .and your poems. . .or something. . .please?" Blinking, he adds, "I know. . .Teradoc. . .wants you. . .in Frogmorton, but. . . I. . .just for a little while. . .if you could. . .stay. . . ."

Hesitating for amoment, Lilly says... "I'll... stay."

Wilby says, "All changed with the rising of the Sun. The first Big Folk to enter these lands built small villages isolated in the primieval forests."

Rotho's expression brightens slightly, and he smiles, though weakly. "Thank you. . .I promise I'll. . .be good. . . ."

Face white as popcorn, Basil shakes his head in disbelief.

Clodo slumps into a seat, unwilling to listen, unwilling to turn away. He stares and listens to each word as they are spoken from the voice of the queer obstruction - Wilby.

Lilly chuckles. "OH dear, Rotho, you'll be good, of course. You always are." She shakes her head and pokes his nose, laughing brightly.

Wilby says, "More Big Folk passed through."

"No, I shan't, Tera," says Willemina, "I quit my job at the Chronicle. I'm devoting my time to helping out here and write poetry and stories." Looking down joyfully at Lilly, she adds, "You'll be a very big help, Lilly. Oh heaven knows how difficult it's been with Carnation having to nurse Uncle Reynard and his feverish fits."

Her lips fluttering for but a moment as the figure speaks to the three of them, no words manage to come out... but it would do not good as they were forgotten in a tangled twist of thoughts and die before they rest on her tongue. She merely sits blankly and listens.

Somehow a smile graces Balmar's lips - Only slight - As Lilly makes her agreement. His heart seems to lift and his eyes dry their tears. With a bit more vigour, perhaps, he continues to bathe Rotho's face.

"Uncle Reynard is another matter," chuckles Terabethia, "You just can't keep a Took down."

Wilby says, "There they were the masters of all they surveyed. Many of the old Big Folk fled southwards The new Big Folk built larger towns -- not the least of which were the on the Downs."

"If it hadn't been for you. . ." Rotho murmurs. Smiling, he snuggles back into the pillows. "Lilly, maybe you. . .could stay. . .with me tomorrow. . .for a little while. . . .just for a day or two."

Wilby says, "Ages passed, and they lived in peace. But then the world changed. Thousands of years later the Great Men came, and took the old Big Folks' lands for their own, and ages later kingdomswere founded."

"If you don't mind. . ." Rotho murmurs, glancing to both Balmar and Lilly. . .

"Of course not," Balmar says softly - Words unhindered by lost tears. "Anything," he promises, a slight smile curving the tips of his lips upward.

Wilby says, "The Downs fell and larger barrows were built there for their kings. But disaster struck once again: Wights. The horror of these Wights led the downs to be renamed: the Barrow-downs."

Wilby says, "All of Great Men fell. Centuries passed before our ancestors settled in the lands about the Downs. Over the years we became more civilised, and took little heed of the old legends of these Downs. That is where my story begins."

"If Tera could stay," Rotho explains, "I think maybe. . .I could. . .go to sleep. . .though there's something. . .might help. . . ."

Before Terabethia can say a word, Willow leans back against the bed and closes her eyes. "Ming if I rest for a few moments?" she enquires, "I'm so very tired and you'll be well looked after, Rotho, Lilly is such a swetheart."

Clodo's countenance becomes a questioning one. "Just what *is* your story?" he askes rather plainly.

Wilby says, "After the hunt on the Tower Hills, as many of you know, I was lost on the Great East Road. I wandered for days, until I came to the Downs."

Nodding, Balmar replies, "Of course, friend.. Just tell us and I'll go fetch it for you." He smiles willingly.

Midien's only action is an ever so slight shake of her head as she stares blankly at the... Wilby... So different from the fellow she knew in life. So pale... and speaking words she has never heard. Her countenance tenses as he begins to tell of his encounter in the downs... she knows he will tell of his death.

Wilby says, "I had no idea then of what danger had befallen me. I sought a path out, but instead I fell victim to the spirits that haunt the ruins. I was taken by them, and tortured, but then I was taken away..."

"To where?!" Clodo enquires incredulously, standing. He seems to completely ignore the food - Quite queer indeed.

Wilby says, "I was sent back for a time, to keep alive the legends and to warn those that might listen... That is my tale, a sad one, but true. And now that I have done what I was sent to do... I must leave now..."

"Could you. . .find out. . .what Mamma used to make. . .with milk. . .and honey. . .and. . .I think brandy?" Rotho asks tiredly. "When I was. . .at Frogmorton. . .it helped. . .this feeling. . . ." Yawning, his lashes flutter closed drowsily. "I'd love some of that, please. . . ."

Midien breaks the silence with but one word..."Who..?"

Smiling, Lilly stands. "We'll get right to is, Rotho. I'll be here when you want... for now, I need to take a nap..."

"Certainly," Balmar says with a smile, taking a stand and quickly bustling out of the room.

Rotho nods. "Tomorrow, Lilly. . .sleep tight. . . ."

At that the door opened again, as though by its own accord, and Wilby replaced his hood and, before he could answer Midien's question, disappeared into the night,

Lilly blows a kiss... "Goodnight, cousin."

Managing another smile, Rotho raises his fingers. "Thank you. . . ."

Wilby Pott was never seen again.

"Incredibly queer!" Clodo shouts suddenly, a yawn escaping his lips. "Nonsense," he says, a seedcake thrown into mouth. "I am going back to bed. Goodnight to the two of you," he says with a bow and a step away.

"I'll be fine, Willow. . ." murmurs Rotho. "Tera. . .will stay, right?"

Midien stares blankly at the door, silent, her eyes with a seeming glaze over them.

"W-W-W-W-W-Wi-Wi-Wi-Wil-Wil-" stammers Basil, staring blankly at the door.

"I know, luv," replies Willow sleepilily, "Just so tired, Rotho and Tera will stay. She and Lilly can do more for you than I can... I voluntered to help your mum."

Sitting still.. her shakings having become reduced to cold sweats, Midien stares blankly at the place where Wilby disappeared... almost as though not staring at all... Merely sitting there.

"Lilly's napping. . .she'll stay tomorrow. . . ." Rotho nods. Opening his eyes once more, he looks up at Terabethia. "Tera - would you mind?. . .Just. . .letting me. . .you know, holding me for a while. . .please?"