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Old 04-04-2006, 09:34 PM   #188
Celuien
Riveting Ribbiter
 
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Join Date: May 2005
Location: Assigned to Mordor
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Celuien has just left Hobbiton.
Garstan stood beside his cart, looking to see if anyone would respond to his inquiry, and wondering how he should behave if they did. Never at ease among strangers, Garstan felt doubly uncertain now that he was forced to ask for aid. He'd little money with him, and begging charity was outside his sense of decorum. No, he would not be asking charity. Any aid given would easily be repaid by good solid work.

A small group – a man, woman, and a child – approached. Were they the family in charge of this place? Garstan looked again and realized his mistake. The third was not a child, but a halfling. He was filled with wonder; everyone in Rohan had, of course, heard of the famous halflings of the War, but Garstan didn’t expect to meet a Shireling in person. Amazement banished some of his injured pride, and Garstan found himself able to speak. He addressed the man, all the while stealing glances at the halfling.

"Hail, friend. I am Garstan. I come from the North. I…I…" Garstan’s voice trailed off. "My cart is damaged and I cannot go further on my journey until it is repaired. Might I stay here for the time? I cannot pay you, but I can work." His eyes glinted. "Garstan is a shaper of stones, craftsman, and builder. I will work. A better man cannot be found easily. What say you?"

Garstan bemoaned his reemerging vanity. Even if justified, this was not the proper time to show it. Not while asking a stranger for help. And he didn't even know who this man was. For all he knew, he might have insulted some noble of the land by inappropriate familiarity and seeming arrogance.

Before a reply could be given, an eager voice interrupted the conversation. "No sir! You'll never find a better stone-shaper. Not if you sent all the way to Gondor!"

"Hush, Garmund! Go back and wait. I'll be with you soon." Garstan looked behind the boy to note a small girl about to complete her descent from the cart, eager to agree with her brother about Garstan's merits. "And take Léoðern with you."

"But father…"

"Do as I say. I won't be much longer."

The children hesitantly climbed into the back of the cart, bright faces peeking out from the canvas in anticipation.

Garstan spoke again. "Forgive me. They are good children, but over eager in manner sometimes." He laughed. "As is their father. But come! Tell me. May we rest here?"
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