Grover
Welcome to Hearthside.
Hobbits have been living and farming in the Hearth for many hundreds of years quite content to ignore and be ignored by the world of the Large Folk. Olympus, after all, is full of unusual creatures beyond count. Hobbits seem of little importance being neither renowned as great warriors nor counted among the very wise. In fact, it has been remarked by some that Hobbits' only real passion is for food. A rather unfair observation as we have also developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales and the smoking of pipe-weed. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good, tilled earth. For all Hobbits share a love of things that grow.
And life in Hearthside goes on, very much as it has in this past age. Full of its own comings and goings, with change coming slowly — if it comes at all. For things are made to endure in Hearthside, passing from one generation to the next and there's always been an Underwood living here, under the hills.
This is where Grover comes in. A hobbit, just like any other, sitting on a rocking chair in the comforts of home and smoking a lovely pipe of Hercules Huff. It's everything a hobbit could want. But that all changed, with a wizard…
Grover rested on a log, far away from the hustle and bustle of the Hearthside, being at peace with the nature. He sat in silence, writing his book of stories to come. It currently had no stories but rather recollections of his life. He looked down at the pages to see only three of them filled, the rest being blank. It wasn't much, but what could he do? Life in Hearthside wasn't exactly exciting. Grover shrugged at the thought and touched the paper with his quill. As he wrote, the great sounds of the wild buzzed around him; the chirping of birds and the rustling of animals. Even the faint sound of a river rushing. Though there was one sound that he didn't quite expect; the sound of horse hooves and the squeaking of a cart. His head perked up at the unexpected sound and turned to the direction it's coming from. It must be coming from the road nearby, Grover thought. The road he spoke of ran through the forest and was one of the entrances into Hearthside. But as convenient as it was, not many used its path.
Out of curiosity, Grover decided to investigate. He closed up the book, making sure to dry the ink and packed his quill and ink bottle, placing them in to a little satchel. He started to move rather quickly, to the point where he was almost skipping. He ran to the little opening of trees that made way for a road. As he got closer, he heard more sounds and this time there was whistling. And the closer and closer he got, the more excited he became. Grover was about to meet a very old friend. Once he reached the opening, he waited for his guest to arrive. Looking down the road, which turned right at the end, he saw a horse, than an old man sitting on a cart.
The man wore a long black robe, but not too baggy. It seemed to fit his shape perfectly and his black boots almost reached to his knees. At his side was a long, pitch black sword and at the end of the hilt was a skull. At a first glance he looked terrifying and grumpy. The old man was slumped over and had the most blank expression on his face. His eyes had bags underneath and his hair was all over the place. He had slight wrinkles on his forehead and at the edges of his eyes (but don't tell him that). He didn't even have a full grown beard like most Wizards, but he had some scruff. The man pulled up next to the hobbit.
Grover crossed his arms over his chest, making sure to look serious. The two tended to play this game whenever they met, acting like they were on official business.
"Well, strange to see you in these parts, Nikolan," Grover said, puffing his chest.
The old wizard looked at back at him sternly, "Likewise, Mister Underwood."
"Are you here for the Annual Campfire Festival?"
"Why, of course," Nikolan replied.
Grover frowned, "Well, you're late. The festival was yesterday, maybe you should work on your timing."
"Impossible," Nikolan grunted, "A wizard is always precise with his timing."
The wizard glared at Grover who glared back. The confrontation goes on for a good couple of seconds, but soon enough, the ends of Grover's mouth started to twitch, curling into a smile. Before they knew it, both were bursting with laughter. However, while Grover 'rolled on the ground', Nikolan only had the energy to… chuckle. After a good amount of laughing had passed, Grover jumped from the ground and onto Nikolan.
"Ah, it's good to see you Niko!" He shouted while wrapping his arms around him.
Nikolan leaned back with a stiff smile. "Please. No hugging. And don't call me Niko, Nikolan is fine thank you."
Grover immediately stopped his affectionate attacks and moved his hands in an apologetic way. "Right… sorry. Not a hugger."
Nikolan then curled his mouth into what looked like a smile and ruffled his hand through the little hobbit's hair. "But yes, my dear Grover. It is good to see you too."
For the next hour, he rode with Nikolan through the hills of Hearthside. They talked about many things and looked at many gorgeous views. The colourful green of the hills and trees, the shining of the lake and the wonderful flowers that littered both the fields and residents alike. Grover wasn't as impressed as Nikolan for he had seen it all before, but Niko always said he loved coming back here. He tended to travel alone but Hearthside was always the exception. He preferred the company of hobbits over others.
"Are we going to see any of your famous shadow tricks, tonight?" Grover asked the wizard.
"Tricks?" he replied, slightly offended, "I can assure you, that they are more than just cheap tricks."
"Oh my apologies, I didn't mean to insult you," Grover teased.
Nikolan just smiled back and nodded.
"May I borrow some of what you are smoking?" he asked.
"Sure, it's the best Hercules Huff this side of the Hearth," Grover stated proudly while handing Nikolan a bag of it.
Nikolan took the bag and inspected it, "I'll be the judge of that."
He grabbed the bag with one hand while keeping the other on the reins. He proceeded to try the Hercules Huff, puffing out a few smoke clouds here and there. He didn't say anything but Grover could tell from his reaction that it was good. After, Grover managed to demonstrate some of his smoking skills, like forming some of the clouds into certain shapes. But Nikolan easily surpassed the hobbit, creating things like ships, animals and even people. He was a wizard after all.
They continued to travel across the countryside until they reached the town. The people gave them a variety of looks, some welcoming, some disapproving. But the children were swarming the cart like flies, and Nikolan had to shoo away. Nikolan was not a fan of kids, especially a swarm of them. After they passed the first town, they crossed into another forest. But it was a lot smaller than the one before. The canopy of the trees blocked the sun, only letting a few rays of sunshine through the gaps.
"How is Hestia doing?" Nikolan asked, still looking straight ahead.
The question made Grover hesitate. The thought of Hestia had been popping many questions in his mind, as of late.
"She's… alright," he replied half-heartedly, "But — Hestia's been a bit strange lately."
Nikolan didn't reply, rather he looked into the distance, the odd side glance here and there. But Grover doesn't notice.
"Well, more strange than usual," Grover added.
He couldn't tell but he thought Nikolan's expression changed somehow, almost to a more scrutinizing face.
"She's been more private now, keeping to the fireplace and looking deeply into it. She seems to fiddle with this little pouch when she thinks I'm not looking."
Again, Nikolan didn't say anything.
"Hestia is up to something," Grover concluded, "I know it."
This time he looked at Nikolan to see him quickly glance away, still smoking his pipe. Looking away as if ignoring him.
Grover smiled. "Well alright then, keep your secrets."
Nikolan looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Well I'm sure you're grandmother has a very good reason."
Grover was sensing that Nikolan no longer wished to speak of the topic, so he no longer spoke of it. Instead, he sat back and enjoyed the peaceful ride back home with the quiet wizard.
They finally stopped in front of their destination; Grover's home. It was a quaint place. A small bench at the front and little steps that lead to a large circular door that was the entrance to the house. There were windows on either side of the door with flowers on the frame.
Nikolan and Grover both entered through the little fence gate, parking the cart just outside and walked up the little steps. Grover then knocked on the front door.
Nobody responded…
He knocked again but still no response, just silence. Grover sighed.
"I'm sorry, Niko, she's probably caught up in her own thoughts."
"No need to apologise… and what did I tell you about calling me Niko?"
Ignoring the comment, Grover grabbed the steel key in his pocket and unlocked the door, making a little clicking sound. He slowly opened the door and stepped inside. He walked over to the coat hanger and hung his little jacket on one of the hooks.
All of a sudden Grover jumped, startled at the sound of a loud bump behind him. He turned around to see Nikolan rubbing his head in pain. Hobbit houses are a lot smaller than full grown men. It's almost natural for them to hurt themselves.
"Are you alright?" Grover asked, slightly concerned.
"I'm fine, thank you."
Grover passed through the living room, not even acknowledging Grandma Hestia who's sat by the fire. She didn't even acknowledge him. She just stayed completely silent, looking endlessly at the flame. Entering the kitchen, Grover looked into the cupboard for any drinks.
"Wine or tea?" he called out to the other room.
"Oh, wine would be fine thank you!" he heard Nikolan call back.
He took out the bottle from the wooden shelves and poured two glasses of wine. He picked up both of them and carried them back into the living room where Nikolan just stood by the table (for the chairs were too small), watching Hestia very closely. Grover saw Nikolan quickly avert his attention away from Hestia and gratefully take the wine Grover served . Grover then took a seat next to him and enjoyed his own.
"How long has she been like this?" Nikolan asked, staring at the blank woman by the fire.
Grover thought for a moment, "I'm not quite sure, maybe about a month ago. She has just been very quiet and silent then here usual storytelling self. Just sitting by the fire and tending to it. And like I said, sometimes fiddling with a small pouch."
Nikolan scratched his chin and thought, already finished with his wine.
"Does she say anything?" asked Nikolan.
"Sometimes… but not directly to me," Grover replied, "more like muttering to herself."
"What does she say?"
"I'm not quite sure. She says things like, 'rumblings in the earth', or 'the seed', whatever that means."
Nikolan put down his glass and let out a deep sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment as if in deep thought.
"But… Niko, what could it mean?"
After a long silence he said: "Nothing, it's nothing," giving Grover a reassuring smile. Though Grover doubted him.
"Anyways…" Nikolan said quickly trying to change the subject, "Don't we have the Annual Hearthside Campfire Festival? Shouldn't you prepare?"
"Yes, and it's always the Underwoods' job to set it up... but Hestia usually hosts them," Grover replied, clearly gesturing to her current state.
But Niko just smiled, "Bah, it'll be fine, you're an Underwood are you not? And now, with the help of a wizard, you'll do even better."
Grover gave him a smile in return and got up from my seat. He began to gather papers and books, all related to the Campfire Festival, and slammed them onto the table. He looked through vast collection of pages to find the best decorations, setups, how to create a massive fire, etc.
"This is going to be tough work," he realised, "I honestly don't know how grandma was able to do this."
"Well, she always did have a flare for festivities," Nikolan chuckled, "especially for the Hearth."
"She sure did…"
They continued to look through their source materials, coming up with amazing ways to put on the best lights show. They also arranged a good seating arrangement for the different families. Making sure that the Hedges had a good amount of things to smash (however no clubs are provided), they also double-checked there was enough vegetables for the Greenwoods and also made sure that there was enough food for everyone. The hobbits tended to be very hungry folk.
"Well, I guess that should do it," Nikolan stated, "I have a feeling that this will be a night to remember."
Grover watched as the wizard grabbed his things and started heading for the door and having to crouch for the low ceilings. However, there was one thing on his mind still poking at the back of his thoughts and just before Nikolan left he asked him one more question.
"Nikolan, what does granny Hestia mean by 'the seed'?... I know you know."
The wizard stopped dead in his tracks, his hand inches away from the door handle. He took a deep breath and looked at him, his face very stern. The light of the fire began to dim.
"My dear Grover," he said but in a more serious tone, "some things... should be left alone."
And before Grover could say anything more, Nikolan exited through the door and slammed it shut. Leaving the hobbit alone in the room with his grandmother. All he could hear was the distant sound of a horse, clip clopping away.
Greetings All! This was the first chapter of my Fantasy AU of Percy Jackson.
If you couldn't already tell, this is very Lord Of The Rings esque Setting.
Anyways, I hope you guys like it and the next chapters to come!
And don't forget to leave a review! :)