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Old 10-01-2006, 07:10 AM   #210
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
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Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: You'll See Perpetual Change.
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Hilde Bracegirdle has just left Hobbiton.

Carl, his clothes still damp, stood by the horses for a moment with his eyes closed. Not having had much sleep over the last few days, standing still lent the chance to rest his eyes for a space. Just the shortest time he told himself, while Athwen saw to the needs of those requiring her skill, and Lindir discussed matters with Dorran beyond the weary hobbit’s hearing. But when Carl’s nose caught the familiar scent of tobacco in the air, he thought he might go sit down while he waited, for surely he was drifting off while on his feet, dreaming of the comforts of home. Still, he could not bring himself to open his eyes in order to find a place to rest.

As his chin sank slowly to his chest, Carl imagined he was sitting at home beside the fire. His pipe was full, though his stomach felt empty as he deliberated with himself over the best way to approach Athwen regarding her stone. He knew now was not a good time to try to explain, for she was busy with more pressing things. And surely it would not be right to tell her on the road either, and so spoil her disposition in time for meeting those they would be working closely with, in the near future. There was nothing he could do, but merely wait until things settled down a bit. The hobbit’s jaw worked rolling the stem of a phantom pipe between his teeth, as he leaned back in the overstuffed chair he didn’t remember being there. He considered what might happen if Athwen discovered things on her own before he had gotten round to telling her, and wondered as he wandered in that mental haze rapidly approaching sleep, whether it would be advisable to escape to The Ivy Bush for a few days in that event. Perhaps it might be best take Dorran and Athwen to the inn tomorrow for a nice meal, and tell them there. If they wanted to, Azhar, Kwell and Shae could join them too, for the slavers would not think to find them there. And you can’t wax too sour with one of Miss Lilly’s pies under your belt, no matter how angry you are. He was smiling with fond remembrance, when he felt someone shake his shoulder.

At the second attempt to wake him, the hobbit’s eyes fluttered opened, and he found that he stood propped up against Stumps. And looking confusedly at the figure before him, Carl wondered just how long Kwell had been at The Ivy Bush, and since when did Miss Lilly allow Stumps in her kitchen!

The young man had to explain a second time that Athwen had said to ask him for bread to eat. But Carl was still foggy and it took him a few minutes to regain his bearings. Finally the hobbit sputtered to life saying, “Bread and water! You look like you could use a bit more than that, if you’ll excuse my saying so.” And rummaging though packs and bags, the hobbit produced some dried fruit as well as the items requested, placing them in Kwell’s hands. “The bread’s a tad stale, I’m afraid,” he apologized. “But a man like yourself has got to eat plenty, and it’s the best we have at present.”

But boy did not need to be coaxed, making short work the food, as Carl watched him. And the hobbit wished he had more to give, but knew that they must be careful, for their stores were running lower than he would have them. “You know,” Carl began, and the dark haired boy looked over at him. “Once we get though all this, and you and the others have a place to call your own, I’ll make you a nice meat pie that you won’t soon forget. And you can sit down and have it all to yourself, if you like. I’ll set aside a bit of flour, just for it.”

“I’ll look after myself, now I’m out of that pit,” Kwell said, handing back the water skin.

“I know that,” Carl said. “And like a foraging bear, no doubt. It’s just that you seem to like food, and I like to see folk enjoy a good meal, that’s all. Makes me happy. I suppose it’s one reason why I work the land to begin with.” Then remembering their talk in the pit, he was quick to add, “That is, if you decide to stay with us. If not, I’m sure I’ll find other takers, especially when they smell the thing cooking. Never had to trouble with leftover pie in the past.”

Kwell pursed his lips and nodded as though weighing the matter.

“Ah well,” Carl sighed, hanging the water skin back on the pony, as Lindir approached calling for them to be off. The hobbit turned again to Kwell, and cocking his head, he winked, “No need to decide that just now, is there? We seem to be on the move again.”

Last edited by Hilde Bracegirdle; 10-01-2006 at 02:24 PM.
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