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Author Topic: Over Hill & Under Tree  (Read 345 times)

Alvelin

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Over Hill & Under Tree
« on: July 16, 2020, 06:40:22 AM »
Elven travelers were not too uncommon along the edges of the Shire, but for one to venture as far as Hobbiton was a rare occurrence, certainly a sight to behold by those Hobbits who never ventured far from their holes, believing themselves safe and sheltered from the outside world and its business. 

The maiden that came riding along the East Road through the Shire was much taller than any Hobbit passerby or onlooker that happened to notice her. At first glance, she would almost be mistaken for Man, but her pointed ears and fairer features - to those educated - would recognize the telltale marks of an Elf. And yet she did not look nearly so mystical and unearthly as some tales would describe, though her face radiated with beauty, moreso with the sun bouncing off her smiling countenance. She did not come sporting any Elven regalia. Her long-sleeved blouse and riding skirt were of vibrant green, tan and ochre, bearing the style of a typical Bree-lander. Neither was her horse a majestic or 'special' creature like those renowned of her people. Chaska was a rugged yet swift bay roan, still sprightly and fit, despite being well on into his early twenties. A few more years could be squeezed out of him, after which Alvelin thought of releasing the gelding back into the wild where he and his scarred hide had come from. That seemed to be Chaska's wish, as far as she could tell…

The two of them had been on many journeys together, some rather perilous, in which Alvelin's life had depended on the length of Chaska's stride on many occasions. A trip to Bree was very much looked forward to, the North-West Road not quite so dangerous, for the both of them to relax. As usual, Alvelin had no set schedule of when to leave or where to go, guided by intuition, mainly waiting for inspiration to strike her path elsewhere.

It was a warmer day, in late spring.  Alvelin's chestnut-brown ponytail swayed with the rocking motion of Chaska's slow amble, strands fluttering as a stray breeze rustled through the canopies of verdant leaves dotting the roadside.  Eyes and ears wandering, she frequently paused to take in each sight and sound that caught her interest.  Birds warbling in the trees…  Butterflies and bees congregating over flowers…  Farmers working their fields…  Livestock and other ponies calling out and peering over fences for a curious glimpse at the Elf-maiden and sniff-greeting with Chaska…  The sun reflected off ponds and streams, where a few Hobbits fished by the shore or drifted out in their boats… 

She had seen all these sights before, and yet there was always something new to be found. Much like Hobbits themselves, whose ways were so predictable yet so surprising.  The Shire was full of little wonders.
« Last Edit: July 16, 2020, 01:50:16 PM by Alvelin »

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya

Calaminth Noaks

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #1 on: July 16, 2020, 01:24:53 PM »
Calaminth and Charisma, the duo most hobbits would prefer not to see out and about in their fields and moors, were outriding over those precise places. Cal was in a splendid mood- Charisma had recovered splendidly from the minor cold he'd had last week -and her steed seemed just as spirited. He tossed his head playfully at a pony or two he recognized, then neighed at something just over the hill. Cal couldn't rightly tell what it was, her vision blocked by the green slope, but Charisma, being of the curious sort, leapt into a gallop. Cal grinned. This was one of hers- and his -favorite ways to spook folks around the Shire, especially Hobbiton, where a specially-placed sneeze could send a fainthearted hobbit all in a tizzy or even in a dead faint.

Up the hill they went, Charisma never stumbling as most ponies and even plenty of horses would do (he'd been a traveling circus horse before Cal bought him and thus had impeccable balance), and Cal lowered herself in her seat. She craned her neck to see their victims this time and furrowed her brow- it wasn't a hobbit at all, in fact, the person was a lot taller than she'd expected. Cal gritted her teeth. She trusted Charisma to make the jump a few feet above hobbits' heads, though not a tall stranger such as this. Her hands tightening on the reigns, she communicated to her steed through a tap on his flank with her foot that he'd need to really jump this time. He snorted just as they came to the breast of the hill-

And over the head of the stranger they leapt, a good foot and a half, though if the stranger was a hobbit and not on a horse, they would have been at least ten feet over her head. Coming to land quite smoothly on the green of one of Cal's neighbors (for they were quite close to her home now) to his protests, Cal circled about Charisma as he snorted and sighed, slowing him down to a walk. She then nudged him and they trotted on up toward the stranger. Cal was curious. Not many of the Big Folk came to the Shire to begin with, and to Hobbiton even fewer, so this was rather exciting for Calaminth. She'd seen many dwarves on the road through here, truth be told, especially once last year, right before Bilbo Baggins had gone away for quite some time, but elves and men didn't come up this way very often, no, not very often at all.

Cal rode up beside the stranger (for the road was, graciously enough, wide enough for two) and turned with a bright smile. "Good morning!" she greeted, meaning she was glad to see the morning was so nice (weather-wise) and that she hoped the stranger was having a good morning. A quick glance told her the woman was not, in fact, a woman, but an elleth, and her smile widened ever so slightly. Now, what in Middle Earth would an elf be doing in Hobbiton, all by herself?

Alvelin

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #2 on: July 17, 2020, 12:52:31 PM »
In a place as relaxing and peaceful as the Shire, Alvelin half didn't believe the warning when her Elven senses alerted her that something was fast approaching, already too late as she was currently distracted - Chaska nibbling at some unclaimed grass while she chatted with Mr. Bolger, who was working his yard on the other side of the narrow road.  Caught off guard by her own sensitive reflexes, Alvelin ducked low at the last second, just as the shadow came soaring overhead - spooking Chaska, who bolted from under his rider - the surprised Elf shortly regaining her seat to spin her horse around after a few strides, facing the "shadow" that had landed in Mr. Bolger's yard, much to the older male Hobbit's protests.  In hindsight, she would be glad that Chaska wasn't as tall as an Elf horse, for surely her head would have been grazed or herself knocked clean out of the saddle, had she not ducked in time, she feared.

She wasn't the type to be easily disgruntled or upset, particularly at having her conversation rudely interrupted with a jump-scare, though Alvelin would've been more inclined to give the intruder a piece of her mind, if not for the peculiar sight that made her shake her head in wonder.

A small Hobbit lass. Sitting astride a very long-legged horse.  For a Hobbit to be seated eye-level with an Elf on horseback was quite amusing to Alvelin. And impressive. It was not often she saw a Hobbit capable of riding a full-fledged horse.

Recovering from their small fright, Alvelin coaxed her horse forward, meeting the strangers halfway, beside Mr. Bolger's yard.

"Good morning," Alvelin replied - following suit after the typical Hobbit greeting - her breath slightly taken away, after the spectacle. Ripples of shock were still evident on her face, not withholding a cordial smile in return as she glanced over the two strangers.

"Quite an impressive jumper you have," she remarked in a friendly tone, though wary with curiosity. "Is it custom for you to greet someone like this?"

She (sooner or later) would flash a look of sympathy at Mr. Bolger, whose angry chiding would still be ongoing against the horse and Hobbit that had trampled his lawn. "Sorry Mr. Bolger," Alvelin would call out an apology (regardless if it was on the stranger's behalf or not), excusing herself from his company. "We'll be on our way." Of which Mr. Bolger would wave them off with a mutter of disapproval as he turned his attention back to his yard, leaving the two riders alone on the road, if they cared to take their conversation elsewhere.
« Last Edit: July 22, 2020, 01:49:32 AM by Alvelin »

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya

Calaminth Noaks

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #3 on: July 17, 2020, 08:05:53 PM »
Calaminth chuckled at the elf's words about her horse and the shocking greeting. Although she still smiled cordially, there was still surprise evident on her ethereal face, and Cal felt a bit bad for causing the look. "My apologies, ma'am," she replied, kind of unsure of how to properly greet an elf, as she'd only met one before and it was when she was just a little girl. "Charisma took off and I assumed you were a hobbit, so we'd clear your head easily." She shrugged. "We don't get many elves in these parts, you see, so I apologize for my assumption again." She patted her steed's side and he snorted. "We didn't mean to jump over you like that, did we, boy?" Dear Charisma tossed his head and pawed the ground, staring at the newcomer's horse. Cal supposed he was curious, though she would be surprised if he'd never met an elven horse before.

"Yes, sorry, Mr. Bolger!" she called back right after the stranger did so. The older fellow waved at them grouchily and Cal gave a huff of laughter. "Old bugger," she muttered, but she did so fondly and not reproachfully. "Really, ma'am, we meant no harm," she reiterated a third time to the traveling elleth, and now Charisma seemed comfortable enough around the other horse to trot up to his side, neighing softly at the equine stranger. "And I hate to be prying or bothersome," she went on, "I just can't help but wonder what brought an elf all the way into Hobbiton, no offense meant, of course, you're welcome here. We just don't get many passerby, so I mentioned."

Alvelin

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #4 on: July 24, 2020, 03:43:08 AM »
Alvelin raised an eyebrow of suspicion.  Either the Hobbit was a poor rider or her horse had a very strong mind of its own, for it to "take off" and jump the hill against its rider's wishes.  Neither seemed to be the case, so surely the Hobbit must have had some intention behind it all.  "Kids" these days…  Alvelin maintained an amused smile, finding no reason to gripe about it.  As much as she enjoyed the calm and easygoing nature of most Hobbits, finding a lively and mischievous one was also refreshing.

"It's all right," she assured simply, in response to the Hobbit's extensive apology. 

Why she had moseyed over into Hobbiton was a difficult question to answer. There was no particular reason.  It was everything, yet nothing.  Most of her direction was simply guided on a whim, feeling inclined to tarry there.  Yet she would not have gone so eagerly, if not for her past experiences.

"The beauty of the Shire, is what called me," the Elf replied with a fond smile.  "Both land and people.  Mr. Bolger is an old friend." She looked over, back at the scene of the lawn crime. "I saved him from drowning in the Water once. Just a wee boy then. Good fifty years ago." She chuckled at the memory of the nearby river that ran past Hobbiton, where the Elf had dived in to rescue the young Bolger that had fallen off a bridge.  "If he hasn't shared that with you around the campfire yet." She glanced humoredly at the young Hobbit woman beside her.

Seeing that the stranger's horse was also interested in Chaska, Alvelin slackened the reins, allowing the bay roan to investigate at his own leisure. The gelding's even temperament made him quite approachable. "This is Chaska," she introduced.  "I'm Alvelin, of Lindon. Most folks around here call me Alvy. Either will do. No need to be formal with me, if you prefer.  And you are…?" Shortly followed with, "I take it you live around here?"  How wise of an assumption, considering Hobbits of the Shire rarely traveled far beyond their homes.

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya

Calaminth Noaks

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #5 on: July 24, 2020, 02:27:44 PM »
The elf seemed amused by Cal's long response and the hobbit was relieved to know she hadn't injured any pride or invoked any bad memories with her mischief. (Once, she'd played a joke on her neighbor that had brought up some traumatic experience and nearly gave him a heart attack. Calaminth didn't play many pranks anymore.) 'The beauty of the Shire', huh? Cal could see that. Though she'd lived here all her her life, she still appreciated the peace and nature of the place while simultaneously wishing to get out of it, to see the world.

The elf knew Mr. Bolger, it seemed. Made sense why the often-grouchy hobbit was in good spirits referring to the elf, for she was no stranger to him. And now she was saying fifty years like it was five months, or even days. Cal couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like to see the eons passing and knowing your death will never come of old age. It rattled her brain a bit, and she nearly missed the next thing the elf said, but she nodded. Mr. Bolger had told the story, though Cal didn't believe he'd mentioned his savior was an elf.

Chaska. A good, strong name for a horse. Calaminth passed some judgment on strangers with steeds on how they handled their riding and the name of their horse, and in this case, she was impressed by both. Horse and rider seemed to be quite in tune with each other, and Cal knew that only came from years of connection, as she and Charisma had.

The elf introduced herself following her naming of her steed (Cal noted the order and it made some positive impression on her, though why, she wasn't sure) and Calaminth was glad it was something easy to say, not a jumble of letters that required three trills and a barrel-roll of the tongue to speak properly. And she was from Lindon! Cal had only heard rumors that the place existed, and apparently it did, to her wanderer's heart's satisfaction. Alvelin- or Alvy, as she voiced -then asked Cal's name.

"Calaminth Noaks, at your service," she said politely and gave what bow she could while mounted on her steed. "And this is Charisma," she patted her horse's shoulder, in case Alvelin had not caught the name while Cal was apologizing a minute ago. "Most folks call me Cal." She smirked. "Some call me Wild-Child, too." She listened to Alvelin's next question and nodded. "I live just across the water, over the Hill," she replied, gesturing behind her.

Alvelin

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #6 on: July 30, 2020, 02:47:24 AM »
"Pleasure to meet you both, Cal and Charisma."  Alvelin nodded her head politely. All the while, in brief glances so as to not make it seem too apparent, her eyes had been studying the young Hobbit's face, which did not turn up a match in her memory, of all the Noak(e)s she had encountered previously, though certain facial features did make her wonder…

"Noaks… I don't believe we've met before." Cal could have very well been a little child at the time, too young for either one to recall. "Last I visited Hobbiton was about thirty years ago.  But perhaps I've met your parents? If you don't mind me asking what are their names."
« Last Edit: July 30, 2020, 02:47:44 AM by Alvelin »

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya

Calaminth Noaks

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #7 on: July 31, 2020, 02:27:39 PM »
Calaminth was pretty sure she and the elf hadn't ever met before either, but that was alright. She was glad to meet Alvelin now! She tilted her head a little at the question and nodded. Hobbits, after all, hold great pride in their family lines, and if you get one started on their ancestry, you may never see the end of the conversation! A good thing that Cal knew the right and wrong times to go on and on about her lineage. "Cerasta Noaks was my mother," she replied, "her name before she married was Cerasta Harfoot, and my father was Emmon Noaks."

Cal didn't mention that her parents had passed away a few years ago, but if it came up in further conversation, she would say so. Hopefully it would not displease the elf too much if she had known one or both of them and hadn't had the chance to see them again before they died. Cal was never too close with her parents, as she never understood their contentedness to remain forever in the Shire, sheltered away with their books and their lazy days, but she still cared for them, of course. She missed them, but enough time had passed that she'd made peace with their leaving this mortal realm.

Alvelin

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #8 on: August 04, 2020, 06:46:00 AM »
To say that Emmon's name had failed to surface would be an insult to her sharp Elvish memory, but when in the slightest doubt, it was best not to assume, though Cal's answer was all the confirmation Alvelin needed to connect the dots and say what had been building on the tip of her tongue.

"Emmon, yes!" Her eyes lit up in fond recollection. "I remember…"  It didn't take much of an encounter for Alvelin to call someone an acquaintance or friend, and she was always pleased to catch up with old faces and learn what became of them through the years. Emmon's looks were evident in his offspring, as she had suspected, though Cal had none of her father's quiet and typical Hobbitish mannerisms. "I met him at the market in Hobbiton, I saw him haggling with a book seller. Not a very long conversation, but he did talk about his garden and the roses in bloom."  A hush then befell her, brow furrowing in concern at the implication of Cal's statement.  "You said 'was'?" She echoed solemnly, searching Cal's face for answers. Had she misheard?  Use of past tense could only mean one thing…
« Last Edit: August 04, 2020, 11:46:05 PM by Alvelin »

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya

Calaminth Noaks

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #9 on: August 06, 2020, 05:07:03 PM »
"Emmon, yes!" Calaminth was, safe to say, shocked. By the fact that Alvelin knew her father, sort of, but more so that her father- bookworm, shy, quiet, simple-minded Emmon Noaks -knew an elf. Alvelin went on to explain that she'd met Cal's father in the marketplace, haggling with a bookseller, and Cal smirked. Yes, that sounded like her Pa. He'd talked about his garden, too, huh? It was kind of nice that other people outside of the Shire appreciated the same things he did, Cal supposed. She was grinning, but Alvelin questioned what she'd meant by 'was' when describing her parents, and Calaminth's smile fell.

"Yes," she admitted and gave a sigh, "both him and my mother. A few years ago." She wrinkled up her nose. "Pumpkins and broken cart wheels can be dangerous, so it seems." She didn't feel like elaborating on her parents' death, but if Alvelin asked, she would. "They left me Noaks Haven. There's a portrait of each of them above the mantel." As they turned the corner, her smile returned. "Well, would you look at that! Here we are!" And indeed, the yellow circular door of Noaks Haven, surrounded by a well-tended garden (once beloved by Cal's father), appeared in their vision. "Would you like to come in for tea?" she offered to the elf. "I have a wide pasture behind the home where Chaska can rest, if you'd like."
« Last Edit: August 06, 2020, 05:08:24 PM by Calaminth Noaks »

Alvelin

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Re: Over Hill & Under Tree
« Reply #10 on: August 07, 2020, 06:40:37 AM »
She might have only met Emmon in passing, talking with him for a brief moment, though Alvelin was no less crushed with sorrow, wishing she had spent more time with Emmon. Life was so fragile and all too soon snuffed out.  "I see…" She said quietly, eyes downcast, but didn't press further into inquiring the details about Emmon and Cerasta's deaths, feeling it wasn't the right time.  Her smile perked up again, mood lifting as Cal extended the offer of inviting her to her house.  Of course Hobbits didn't just leave it at "come in"; there had to be at least tea or food involved, to cater to company. Alvelin would have accepted either way.

"I'd love to, thank you."  She led Chaska over to the pasture, removing the saddle and head harness before turning the gelding loose into the field.  Alvelin stood beside the fence, grinning as she watched Chaska buck in glee, running a few laps to explore his new enclosure and then settle down to graze with Charisma. It seemed the two horses would get along with their own "tea party" out there, while their owners were inside.

Walking back to the entrance of Cal's house, Alvelin bent down to smell and admire the flowers, brushing her fingers lightly against their silky petals (though she didn't dare pluck any, fearing Yavanna's wrath more than any Hobbit's), enticed by the lavish spread of bright colors and wafting fragrances.  "Lovely garden," she complimented. "Do you tend to all this yourself?"  Cal didn't look the like green thumb type, at first impression. If the young Hobbit spent so much time out horseback riding, perhaps she could afford a gardener.  That, or maybe a family member or friend of Emmon's looked after the garden for free.

Speaking of family members, it begged the question (or small-talk conversation starter), once Alvelin stepped through the doorway, "No one else lives here with you?"  Hobbit families were usually large. It would be surprising if Cal didn't have any siblings. Surely other relatives must be around to check up on her, now and then, though Cal was no longer a child and could very well look after herself.

Fortunately, Alvelin wasn't as tall as most Elves, and even some Men, to be able to navigate her way around the rooms and tunnels fairly comfortably with a slight duck under some low beams.  While she could appreciate a cozy burrow now and then, finding Hobbit-holes to be rather quaint and cute (in the way all tiny things did), Alvelin preferred less walls, more open spaces in the long run. 

She halted beside the fireplace, gazing at Emmon's and Cerasta's portraits which hung above the mantel.  The artist was exceptional, capturing the likeness of Emmon she so clearly recalled, even though lines and wrinkles of age had marked his face older, since Alvelin last saw him.

It was after a moment of silence, paying her respects to Cal's parents, that Alvelin tread carefully the question:

"How did it happen, exactly? If you don't mind me asking."

Regardless if Cal was comfortable with sharing that information about her parents or not, Alvelin had no problem with sharing her own, what she felt was a small thing in common she had with the Hobbit.

"My parents are gone as well." She smiled sadly as she reminisced, wistful but not so full of grief… unable to truly relate on the same level as someone who had lost a parent, though she had experienced loss of loved ones before.  "Not dead, but they sailed away from Middle-earth a long time ago. If you've heard of the Undying Lands. The Grey Havens."  Alvelin would take a seat at the table, accepting a cup of tea and letting a few sips take her mind off the past, back to the more cheerful present.

"I'll be leaving for Lindon, once I've had my fill of the Shire. Before that was Bree, when I thought I'd take a little side-trip here, but I do intend to go to Lindon." Being at ease with Cal, she could loosen up and ramble some. "To visit my uncle. Well, not a direct uncle. More of a distant relative, but closest relative I've had, growing up."

It normally wouldn't cross her mind to ask such a question from a Hobbit, but dabbling in the subject of travels, which Cal didn't seem to protest against, Alvelin had to wonder…

"How far have you been from Hobbiton?" She asked with a playful twinkle in her eye.

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya

 


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