If you’re a fan of my other hobbit romance Flowers, Gems And Estella, you might recognize a scene here from Chapter 3. Enjoy!
Larner – Thanks!
Kriszta - Don't worry, I haven't given up on it! I've just been very busy, what with work and preparing to go to college in the fall. Thanks!
> > > > >
A Light In Dark Places – Chapter IV
In the days of Beren, the nineteenth Steward, an even greater peril came upon Gondor. Three great fleets, long prepared, came up from Umbar and the Harad, and assailed the coasts of Gondor in great force – and the enemy made many landings, even as far north as the mouth of the Isen. At the same time the Rohirrim were assail –
Diamond was interrupted from her reading when the carriage, encountering a large hole in the road, gave a great jolt, bouncing the passengers all around. The book flew out of her hands and almost out of the carriage window opposite her completely, had her brother Fosco not caught it at the last moment.
“Thanks,” she said as he handed it back to her, and smoothed the hair that lay in a messy state upon her head from the disturbance, “I wouldn’t like it too much if I had lost this one.”
“You wouldn’t like it too much if you had lost any of your precious books,” her brother said.
“Perhaps – but this one,” she said, stroking the spine affectionately, “This one may be my favorite. It was quite a find, really, for being among a stack of old, decaying books at the marketplace, most of which weren’t very interesting anyways – books concerning the genealogy of the Tooks, and Brandybucks, and other prominent families of the Shire. Things that no one really cares about.”
“Father cares, as does Mother,” Fosco reminded her, “It is important to most hobbits to be able to prove that they are related to one of the more respectable families in the Shire – I’m sure Father takes it as some source of pride that we are related to the Thain, as well as being ancestors of Bandobras Took.”
“It shouldn’t be an issue, though,” Diamond said, her face contorted in a slightly annoyed expression, “Hobbits aren’t dogs, with pedigrees to be boasted of in front of others – it shouldn’t matter who our cousins are.”
“You make an excellent point,” Fosco said, nodding in agreement, “But you will convince few others – I’m sure Father has it in mind to marry you and our sisters off to well-to-do families. The Brandybucks, the Tooks, the Bolgers – even the Bagginses.”
“He would have me marry Frodo Baggins? He’s quite a bit older then me.”
“Well, Father would never force you to marry against your will, of course – but if you choose to marry, oh, say Peregrin Took – well, I’m sure he wouldn’t oppose to the idea.”
“I’m far too young to marry anyone, let alone Peregrin Took,” she said.
“True – until then, he shall have Garnet and my own twin to think of. Although I pity the lad who should marry them,” he said. Although the two were in fact twins, Fosco looked no more like Amethyst than he did to Diamond, or any of his other sisters. “So what was it about?”
“Pardon?” Diamond said, looking up from her book.
“The poem you wrote the other day – said something about the four of weary feet. May I ask what it was about, and where you got the idea?”
Diamond sighed, unsure of how to answer. “I’m not really sure who those four are, though I have my suspicions – it was from a dream I had, the night I smelled the smoke on the air. It was dark,” she said, contorting her face so as to remember the details of the dream, “There was smoke, and fire – a battle of great magnitude, shadows that rushed about the land, emotion were wild – on the crest of a hill, stood four figures, hobbits they were, but two were not. They stood taller than the others, and their chests shone like the sun. Their faces, their hair, were dirty with the signs of a long journey –” She broke off.
“Who were they? Could you tell?”
“No – their faces were blurred, with the smoke and whatnot.”
“But your suspicions?”
“I think that one of them may have been Peregrin Took – and the other three who disappeared, I know not their names.”
“Perhaps it is another one of your intuitions.”
“Perhaps,” Diamond said, and opened her book to read once more.
After some time, Fosco spoke again. “So this book of yours – what’s it about then, to have captured your attention so well?”
“It concerns the old days, of when the country of Gondor was a great and noble power in the world, before even the Shire was colonized by us, and our people lived on the banks of the Great River – it concerns wars fought between the people of Gondor, and of Rohan.”
“There must be something else in there, though,” he said, a grin still upon his youthful face, “You wouldn’t read it if there were only war and death – a romance of epic magnitude, is there not?” His eyebrows rose as he said this.
“There is,” she said, and a light blush came to her cheeks, “Between Beren, a prince of Men, and Lúthien, said to be the loveliest of all Elves – though he was a mortal being, she loved him still, and swore to give up her immortality rather than walk the earth forever when he was dead.”
“Sounds epic indeed,” Fosco said, and his eyebrows rose so far above his eyes that they camouflaged perfectly with his mop of overhanging brown hair, “Though I never really found much enjoyment in the matters of romance, being not the dreamer that you, dear sister, are.”
“And we all know what you would rather read,” she sad, grinning.
“I? If I am to read at all, which my years of schooling have certainly destroyed any interest I might have, that it would likely be for pleasure, to entertain my feeble mind – not to educate it.”
“There is entertainment to be had in being knowledgeable,” Diamond said, leaning back as she opened the book once more, “If you only know how to enjoy it.”
“So what do you think of this?” Merry spoke, picking up a leather-bound book from the stand, “It’s quite a handsome one, that is.”
Pippin looked upon it and frowned. “You know I don’t like to read, Merry – I hate it almost as much as doing work.”
“Well, there’s no pleasing you then, is there?” Merry spoke with a grin, “I suppose all you fancy is a mug of ale and a pretty lass.”
“Just the mug, thanks,” Pippin commented as he and Merry strode through the marketplace at Bywater that October morning, “Tell me again, dear cousin, why we are here in Bywater when we could just go to Tuckborough or Bucklebury – I’m sure the selections there would be much more appeasing.”
“Perhaps, but will the lasses be as appeasing?” Merry questioned, and Pippin now noticed a roguish glint in his eye as he stared forward – turning his head, he saw what, or more specifically who had caught Merry’s attention so well.
“Estella Bolger?” Pippin commented upon realizing who it was, “Fatty’s little sister? You fancy her?”
Merry scoffed. “I didn’t say I fancy her, Pip – but she is pleasing to the eye, is she not?”
“Suppose so,” Pippin said with an almost bored tone of one commenting on the weather, “Bet you can’t talk to her.”
“Bet I can.”
“Bet you won’t get one word out of your sorry mouth, and she’ll walk away, hating you and thinking you’re a terrible bore.”
“I, Meriadoc Brandybuck, a bore? For shame, Pippin, for shame.” And with that, Merry grabbed Pippin’s arm and dragged him over to where Estella was standing before a stand selling several trinkets and other jewelry.
“Say something, if you’re so charming, then,” Pippin whispered.
Merry cleared his throat, but Estella did not look up. “Um – that piece there,” he said more to Pippin instead, pointing at one particularly beautiful necklace, “That’s most likely of Elven make – probably from Rivendell, it looks like a necklace of Arwen’s.”
Estella looked up briefly, perhaps only noting that he and Pippin were merely there, and lowered her head again.
“Say something to her, not me,” he hissed under his breath.
“Estella, right?” Merry asked of her. Pippin slapped his forehead with his hand. “What do you think about it?”
“Oh,” she said, still not making eye contact with either of them, “Well, it’s very beautiful. I suppose it is of Elven make.” Her hands twisted with the handkerchief she held, slightly nervous. “I’ve never seen anything like that made by Shire hands before.” And with that she continued on her way down the busy marketplace.
“Well, that went well,” Pippin stated once she was out of earshot.
“Yes, I think it did, as a matter of fact,” Merry said, his head held high, “I’m quite the genius with the lasses, if I do say so myself.” Pippin scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, I don’t see you talking to any lass here, Mr. Peregrin Took! You may be quite the charmer at the Smials, but that doesn’t mean you’re any better than Meriadoc Brandybuck.”
“For your information, Meriadoc, I am quite the charmer at the Smials, and if you come round this time tomorrow you’ll see just how charming I can be.”
“Oh? And why tomorrow?”
“Because I have distant relations coming in from the North Farthing, and one of them, a Miss Ruby Took, has quite the crush on me.”
“She’s a lot younger than you, isn’t she?”
“Twenty-one.”
“That doesn’t count, then – sorry, Pip,” Merry said, “Say, this wouldn’t be the traditional visit from your Northern cousins that your family has every year, would it?”
“That’s the one – every year, except last, and of course that’s when I have to be gone.”
“Either way, though, you didn’t have to see them for another year.”
“True,” Pippin said, sighing, “You think maybe if I go away again, they’ll just ignore my absence?”
Merry laughed, and placed an arm round the shoulders of his cousin. “Even if they did, you’d never have quite as much fun as if you’d have stayed.”
Pippin shook his head, quite certain that Merry was either lying or drunk.