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Autumn 9 Fourth Age 1430 Shire-reckoning 
the ashes of a black sleep scatter fell {{ WORDS on {{ HOWLING winds |
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| Epitaph the Second; something wicked YOUR way comes | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 21 2009, 03:05 AM (133 Views) | |
| heatherbee. | Oct 21 2009, 03:05 AM Post #1 |
Andrea's Grasshopper
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A shadow passed over the blank windows of the Great Smial, but no nightly creature stirred in Tuckborough. At the door to the ancestral home of the Tooks, the shadow halted. A single unnatural boom, like a tree crashing to the earth, echoed around the Shire. A candle ignited driving away the gloom. The figure vanished. In the low light, the inquiring Hobbit could not make out the letter nailed to the door. He brought it into the Smial and examined it under the flare of a chandelier. His cheerful face fell. He ran down the corridor, shrieking for Pippin to rouse from his sleep.
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| Andrea | Oct 22 2009, 10:11 AM Post #2 |
Master Storyteller of Arda
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Pippin awoke to the shrieking, sitting upright immediately as the door to his quarters opened, the small flames from a chandelier winking in the darkness. “Thain Peregrin,” the hobbit began, but stopped as he saw the other make a small gesture of silence. His voice was shaky with startling revelation. The Took slipped out form under his covers quietly, making sure not to wake anyone else in the house. Carefully he made his way over to the newcomer, his footsteps falling lightly. He shuffled out the door, the hobbit following him from behind. At last, when Pippin shut the door, he turned to tonight’s messenger. Although he was somewhat embarrassed about his appearance (for he was still in his evening garb), he gave no inkling to this particular reason of unease. Rather, he was far more concerned with the other reason: the fearful shriek he had just heard this hobbit manifest. “What has happened?” he whispered, still cautious of waking the others. He could sense how late it was; the way his body seemed to totter on his small feet, and the way the night air seemed to cling to his skin unrelentingly. He watched as the hobbit opened his mouth to speak, and then close it for lack of words. After a few moments of silence, he managed, “This is… something you must see.” He extended a small piece of parchment, and adjusted his hold on the chandelier so that a good amount of light would fall upon the words. Pippin took the small piece of paper from him and huddled closer to his messenger, his eyes squinting, then widening at the words clearly scrawled on the page. Unwillingly he let out a small shiver. His first night home and now… “This…” he began, a bit shaken. Yes, he was aware of his renown from being one of the Fellowship, and yet… and yet he couldn’t bring himself to understand. Why had this envoy addressed him specifically? Who wrote this? Why? The Took’s thoughts wouldn’t settle. Did the enemy know of his part in Edoras? Were they watching him, spying on him at this very moment? Were they laughing at his reaction now? His mouth, which was previously partly opened in surprise, closed, creating a thin line. He took the notice and folded it. “Please do not mention this,” he requested, looking at the other hobbit with sudden seriousness, though his eyes were earnest, still soft with compassion. “I shall address this… in the morning.” He faltered his last words, still unable to fully grasp what had just happened. He watched as the hobbit gave a nod and a small bow. “Rest well, Master Took.” Pippin managed a half-hearted smile. “I shall,” he answered, and gave a small wave of farewell as the hobbit left—more quietly than the way he had entered. But although he answered as such, the Took went into the kitchen to boil water, taking a cup and adding a few tea leaves in it. He suspected that he could not go to the shores of sleep even if he tried. [ OoC: My response is still open for anyone who wants to jump in. ] |
   " V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| heatherbee. | Oct 22 2009, 04:23 PM Post #3 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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A voice disturbed her dreams, and Pearl Took started awake. She froze in her bed, straining her ears to listen. Had she dreamt the shriek? It was sometimes difficult for Pearl to separate fiction and reality. It was her profession, after all, to seamlessly merge the two together. Deciding it was not her imagination spinning yarns while she slept, the Hobbit rose from her bed. Pulling on a warm housecoat over her sleeping shift, she padded into the corridor. There was no one in this section of the Great Smials, but there usually was not at this time of the night—or morning, more accurately. Pearl passed through patches of round moonlight cast onto the floor as she searched for any sign of the shriek she might have heard. If anyone had disturbed the night for any significant reason, Pippin would have been roused from his sleep. Pearl, therefore, beat a path down the hallways around the Thain’s quarters. When she found no light shining from under the door, she abandoned her quest and headed back towards her own rooms. Stopping off at the kitchen for a late night snack being the natural thing for any Hobbit, Pearl took a short detour. She was surprised to find Pippin and a kettle at work. “So I didn’t imagine someone screaming?” Pearl asked, perching herself at the table. “Nothing too serious I hope.” |
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| Andrea | Oct 24 2009, 04:26 PM Post #4 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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Pippin blinked at the sudden sound of his sister’s voice, and he turned to her, his mouth opening to say something, although what, he did not know. But as he did so, the kettle fumed, letting out a shrill noise to signal that the water was done. Hurriedly, and glad for the distraction, he got up from his seat to remove it from the fire. “Ah… well…” he managed, pouring himself a cup of tea carefully. His movements were slow as if he were delaying something… but what? In any case, he was relieved that despite the threatening message he had just received, his hold on the hot object didn’t shake or falter. The Hobbit paused once he had finished pouring and he looked up at Pearl, the kettle still in his hand. “… Would you like some tea?” he asked weakly, hoping to distract her (and maybe even himself) from her inquiries. But even as he spoke, his eyes wandered and ultimately settled on the folded piece of paper lying upon the table. At once he was at a loss of what to do. Should he reveal it to his sister? … Or keep silent? He didn’t want to trouble anyone from something that clearly pertained to him… or did it? Did it not use the plural “Hobbits” in its message? Once again, the question of who “it” was resurfaced. Look away! he told himself urgently, yet his eyes stared at the missive dumbly. At last he placed the kettle upon the table and lifted his cup to his lips, making a tentative sip. The tea scalded the insides of his mouth, seared his lips, yet the Took seemed to pay no mind. At last he spoke. “Someone… delivered a message tonight,” he said lamely, inwardly berating himself for such a pathetic beginning to the perilous situation at hand… but he couldn’t think of any other words to use. |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| heatherbee. | Oct 26 2009, 04:14 PM Post #5 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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Pippin was not behaving like himself. Pearl noticed it immediately, and she began to doubt if she really had heard someone screaming. Pippin? Surely not. But her brother had lived through horrors unimaginable. How could she – who had never heard the shriek of a wraith nor seen a bloody battlefield – fathom the ways such things might linger in the mind. “Yes, please,” Pearl accepted the tea. A minute ago, she had a slice of strawberry pie in mind, but concern had driven food from her thoughts. “Two sugars.” Pearl’s eyes followed Pippin’s line of sight to the parchment on the table. A letter. It was uncommon for post to be delivered so late at night. Whatever message it was, surely it was important news. Curiosity stole over Pearl. To her knowledge, the only Hobbits who might have sent an urgent letter were Merry and Sam. “Someone?” She blinked dumbly while the word sunk in. Someone. He didn’t say Merry or Sam, which surely he would have done if the letter came from one of his friends. And if the letter was not from a friend, then … “Oh!” Pearl couldn’t find any words. She felt like she was at the climax of a story, writing a line and crossing it out time and again because the right phrase would not come to her. She gestured at the paper. “What does … May I read it?” |
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| Andrea | Oct 31 2009, 03:31 AM Post #6 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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"Someone?" "Yes," he managed, somewhat awkwardly. "A someone." Steam rolled out in small wisps from the kettle’s spout as Pippin poured a second cup, absorbed in the duty so as to better gather his thoughts. Part of him was wondering how she managed to enter the kitchen at such a precise moment, but, by now, he conceded that the reason for her being here no longer mattered. He dropped a sugar in but, upon hearing her request, hesitated to drop the second. It was a minute pause as he weighed the odds. When he had been returning to the Shire, the Took had refused to bring any dark tales or truths to his home, family, and friends (even irritable neighbors here and there). But now he was not so sure. He glanced up at Pearl; she was family and his reasonable older sister. Unnecessary and uncontrollable panic was what he feared upon revealing the missive, and he knew in his heart that Pearl was most likely bound to do… well, neither. “Yes,” he said finally, dropping the last sugar cube in and handing her the mug. “… You may.” He positioned himself on the stool by the small hearth, his back leaning against the wooden walls as he sipped his drink, his eyes watching his sister and waiting for what she would say… or could not say. |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| heatherbee. | Nov 2 2009, 06:57 PM Post #7 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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Pearl lifted the letter gingerly from the table, as if it was a fragile heirloom. Her brother’s reaction to the note had startled her. Slowly, she unrolled the curled paper. No reaction showed on her frozen face as she laid down the paper again. Her fingers pushed away the vile letter. She had been prepared for the worst—or whatever scenario her mind had construed as the worst. It would have been much better to read some description of pain, torment, and death than this mocking declaration. Pearl lifted the mug to her lips. The strong aroma of the tea warmed her sluggish thoughts. She was surprised to find her hands were shaking, and she put the cup down without taking a drink. She had, up until now, avoided looking at Pippin. Her eyes had moved from the sideboard to the stove and back to the tabletop. But now, she stared at her brother. “I assume the Hobbit who found the letter has been sworn to secrecy?” What else was there to say? Middle-earth had defeated a great evil, but its remnants refused to fade into the darkness. To dwell on it would not change it. Yet Pearl knew these words and the safety of her brother would never be far from her thoughts. |
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| Andrea | Nov 6 2009, 01:36 PM Post #8 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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Pippin, whose eyes had been lingering on the contents of his cup, shot up at the sound of his sister’s voice once more. He blinked at the curious question, but he eased just a bit. He hadn’t known what to expect from Pearl, but at least the conversation did not sway towards panic. That he was much thankful for. He cupped his mug between his hands and gave a small nod of reassurance. “Yes, he has,” he answered. “But…” He fell silent as he reconsidered his words. “We must mind ourselves,” he said at last. “I don’t suppose waiting is a very wise decision… What… what shall we do?” He fidgeted a bit in his seat, a perplexing frown on his features. “What could they do?” was the true question, but even the answer to that was hidden from him. Despite everything, he was glad that he was no longer bearing the burden alone; he hated bringing Pearl into his own predicament, yet he couldn’t think of anyone else better to fit the position at the moment. Merry and Sam were spread out in the Shire in different directions, and while he would be glad for their advice, he was not exactly compelled to go out to seek them… The darkness of night seemed to come fully upon him until he was no longer sure if the Shire was still safe. |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| heatherbee. | Nov 6 2009, 03:04 PM Post #9 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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Pearl sucked in a breath and tried to think. Though she was scared beyond imagining, Pippin needed her to keep her wits. As an elder sister, it was her responsibility to look out for her siblings. It was so rare that Pippin needed her help, and she wasn’t going to waste this chance. “We are under the protection of the King, yes? Shouldn’t we also send word to the Rangers? I know they have done so much for us already, but if the Hobbits have an enemy in the world, then so does the King who granted us this land.” It wasn’t enough to cry help and hide behind the protection of old friends. The Shire had spent centuries doing just that, and what had it earned them but vulnerability which Saruman had exploited? “But first thing, we should tell Sam and Merry. Whether they decide to heed my advice or not, I would … increase the number of Sheriffs and send them to guard our borders.” It pained Pearl to say this. The last time anyone had made more sheriffs, the Shire had been crawling with ruffians. The decision would dredge up old memories, something she was reluctant to suggest. |
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| Andrea | Nov 8 2009, 06:40 AM Post #10 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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“Yes,” Pippin agreed with a firm nod of his head. “I suppose alerting the Rangers would be the best thing to do… After… after telling Sam and Merry first.” He hesitated at the last suggestion, remembering the utter calamity he had returned to after the Ring’s destruction. “I suppose… I suppose we’ll have to talk about that as well.” Like his sister, he was reluctant to choose—or even consider—recruiting more Sheriffs. While it was an ideal choice in an average situation, this was most certainly not an average situation. It would only stir up misgivings and doubt. While the Scourging was years ago, the memory of having something so close to home—so close to them—be utterly destroyed was painful, and it had made an everlasting impact on the hobbits. The slightest change would create a sense of dread, even if the change was for their utmost safety which—to him—was always of the greatest importance. In the dark, in the darkest time of night, he could not help but have a sense of doubt in himself. Even so, the hours of dark began to wear thin, the sky outside becoming lighter with each passing second. It surprised him, how much time had passed in their fear. Already there were the beginnings of a rosy dawn bordering on the horizon, and he turned to the window, eyes following the hilly, green slopes of the Shire. How strange it was that everyone else seemed to be sleeping peacefully amidst their worry… How uncanny it was that the sun could still be shining even in this moment of dread. Despite his anxiety, the Took released a small chuckle, surprising himself as it better soothed his spirits. That’s right, he thought as a moment of golden silence passed. There was a time to fear, a time to worry… but it wasn’t now. Not when the grass was still green, the air still fresh, and the sun still shining on what he knew to be and would always be his home: the Shire, among true family and friends. “Ah, sister,” he said at last, his voice quiet, yet capturing a slight sense of merriment. “It is a wary thing to be so down at dawn with naught to eat and drink.” His gaze focused on her now, his face set in a determined, yet hopeful expression. A small, and perhaps shaky, smile appeared. “We shall face this danger together… But our first duty is to our stomachs.” |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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edge created by tiptopolive of ifsz
Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
