Disclaimer: Okay folks, we all know the spiel by now. I don't own any of the
characters or races portrayed here. They all belong to JRR Tolkien and his kin. I
don't own Carla, she is her own person, and I do own Heather. She copyrighted.
Chapter One
The first thing she noticed was the scent of the fresh autumn flowers on the cool
evening breeze and the soft velvety feel of the grass beneath he as she lie on the
ground. She opened he blue eyes slowly and saw around her a beautiful valley
blanketed in autumn splendor. The trees around her were colored with golds,
reds, and browns, and here and there squirrels flitted about the towering oaks
and maples searching for nuts. Beyond the dazzling autumn palette hung a
darkening azure sky already dotted with many evening stars. Not far to her right,
she heard the bubbling of a small stream making its way slowly through the
clearing in which she lay.
At first she could not remember how she had come to be here or where she was
for that matter, but slowly the memories came flooding back to her. She glanced
around again, seemingly looking for something. "Carla?" She called into the
growing darkness. There was no answer.
She started to breath faster and waves of panic washed over her. Calm down,
Heather! She commanded herself. It's just a dream. How could it not be a
dream?! Have you ever seen a forest like this? You're just dreaming it! That's
why Carla's not here. But have you ever smelled flowers in a dream, Heather?
No!
As the talked to herself, she had risen it her feet and was pacing back and forth
worriedly. She didn't like the conclusion her mind had drawn. Can't be a
dream…It kept running through her mind. It's too real…But dreams seem real
sometimes…Just then, her eyes caught sight of lights in the distance and at the
same time, the chill night wind of autumn began to blow. Reminded of both the
chill and the fact that she was standing in the middle of the forest at night, she
started off towards what she hoped was a peaceful town.
As she walked, she continued to think about what could possibly of happened.
Granted, she didn't fully believe that she was actually here. She looked around
again as another chill wind blew, causing her to shiver and wrap her arms about
herself. She glanced down mournfully at her snug-fitting, T-shirt and rubbed her
arms to warm them. "It sure feels real." She muttered aloud sarcastically.
As she neared the small village-for a small village it was-she could make out the
dim outlines of small houses and cobble stoned streets. "This just keeps getting
weirder and weirder," She mumbled aloud as she made it to a path, a well-rutted
and thus often used path, leading to the little village. Ruts? She thought, looking
at the ground with a confused look on her face. Like, carts…cart wheels…?
Just then, as the path turned in to a cobble-stoned street, the clop clop of horses
hooves on the stones mingled with the sound of a moving carriage caught her
ears. She looked up just in time to jump out of the way of the approaching cart,
directly into the mud on the sides of the street. She landed on her rump in the
gunk of the gutters, looking utterly bedraggled and disgusted.
As she was pulling herself up from the mire of street filth, she heard a voice ring
out from her left. "Oh, you poor dear! Are you alright?" She looked up and saw
standing there, a person that was most obviously not human. He stood about
three foot six, and was very pudgy. That would have been enough to make him
a midget, but for his larger than usual eyes, the tuanyness of his skin, and his
very furry bare feet. He had his hand on her shoulder and was trying to help her
up, but all she could do was stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and awe. The
man's features seemed familiar to her, but in her confused and utterly surprised
state, nothing registered.
After a short pause, the man implored further. "Miss, are you alright?"
Coming out of her daze with a blink, she finally met his eyes. ""Umm, yeah. I'm
okay." She looked down at herself and her mud covered shirt and jeans. "If not
a little filthy."
He sighed and nodded. "Yes, Miss. That Tom, he has no respect." His face lit
up then, and became cheerful. ""But no worries! Come along now, and we'll get
you cleaned up right good!" With that he helped her to her feet and started off
toward a small cottage near the outskirts of the village.
Heather aloud herself to be helped and followed after him, not really knowing
what else to do, and looking forward to a bath.
As they walked, the man looked up to her and smiled. "I am Fredegar Bolger, by
the way, miss. But most call me Fatty and you may also." Fatty then looked to
her expectantly.
Heather looked down at him and smiled, then, realizing that she was expected to
respond she tried her best. "Then it's nice to meet you Fatty. I'm Heather." She
paused for a short moment to get her thought in order and he did not disturb her.
Fatty Bolger? She thought. Heather, if this is a dream, it's one of your wildest…
They walked in silence for a while, and Heather's mind slowly wandered to the
tale from which the name of this…hobbit had come and perhaps the hobbit
himself. She became more and more enthralled in her thoughts and didn't notice
they had stopped.
"Ah…home sweet home! Here we are, Heather!" Fatty's voice came floating to
her though her reverie, and snapped her out of it. She blinked and looked at the
quaint little cottage that stood in front of them. It was small, and very country-
cottagish. It all seemed like a scene from some English countryside, if it weren't
for the small round door…
Fatty opened the door for her and ushered her in. She had to duck to enter, but
the house itself was rather roomy. There was a coat and hat rack near the door
which she had no use for, but found it rather attractive. As she looked around,
she began to feel as if she'd been taken to some story book cottage.
Fatty smiled as he saw her looking around appreciatively. "Yes," he said. "It's all
rather pretty, isn't it? Too bad it isn't mine. I'm only house-sitting for a while until
the true owner comes back."
"Yes, it's very pretty." Heather said, coming to her senses. No kidding, she
thought. This is awesome! "But who, may I ask, are you 'sitting' it for?"
"Oh," Fatty relied, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "You wouldn't know him
probably. You look like you aren't from around here."
Heather smiled. "Good assumption."
Fatty nodded. "It wasn't an assumption. But that we can talk of later. How does
a nice, hot bath sound?"
Her eyes lit up at the prospect. "I thought you'd never ask."
((what do you think so far? Should I continue??))
characters or races portrayed here. They all belong to JRR Tolkien and his kin. I
don't own Carla, she is her own person, and I do own Heather. She copyrighted.
Chapter One
The first thing she noticed was the scent of the fresh autumn flowers on the cool
evening breeze and the soft velvety feel of the grass beneath he as she lie on the
ground. She opened he blue eyes slowly and saw around her a beautiful valley
blanketed in autumn splendor. The trees around her were colored with golds,
reds, and browns, and here and there squirrels flitted about the towering oaks
and maples searching for nuts. Beyond the dazzling autumn palette hung a
darkening azure sky already dotted with many evening stars. Not far to her right,
she heard the bubbling of a small stream making its way slowly through the
clearing in which she lay.
At first she could not remember how she had come to be here or where she was
for that matter, but slowly the memories came flooding back to her. She glanced
around again, seemingly looking for something. "Carla?" She called into the
growing darkness. There was no answer.
She started to breath faster and waves of panic washed over her. Calm down,
Heather! She commanded herself. It's just a dream. How could it not be a
dream?! Have you ever seen a forest like this? You're just dreaming it! That's
why Carla's not here. But have you ever smelled flowers in a dream, Heather?
No!
As the talked to herself, she had risen it her feet and was pacing back and forth
worriedly. She didn't like the conclusion her mind had drawn. Can't be a
dream…It kept running through her mind. It's too real…But dreams seem real
sometimes…Just then, her eyes caught sight of lights in the distance and at the
same time, the chill night wind of autumn began to blow. Reminded of both the
chill and the fact that she was standing in the middle of the forest at night, she
started off towards what she hoped was a peaceful town.
As she walked, she continued to think about what could possibly of happened.
Granted, she didn't fully believe that she was actually here. She looked around
again as another chill wind blew, causing her to shiver and wrap her arms about
herself. She glanced down mournfully at her snug-fitting, T-shirt and rubbed her
arms to warm them. "It sure feels real." She muttered aloud sarcastically.
As she neared the small village-for a small village it was-she could make out the
dim outlines of small houses and cobble stoned streets. "This just keeps getting
weirder and weirder," She mumbled aloud as she made it to a path, a well-rutted
and thus often used path, leading to the little village. Ruts? She thought, looking
at the ground with a confused look on her face. Like, carts…cart wheels…?
Just then, as the path turned in to a cobble-stoned street, the clop clop of horses
hooves on the stones mingled with the sound of a moving carriage caught her
ears. She looked up just in time to jump out of the way of the approaching cart,
directly into the mud on the sides of the street. She landed on her rump in the
gunk of the gutters, looking utterly bedraggled and disgusted.
As she was pulling herself up from the mire of street filth, she heard a voice ring
out from her left. "Oh, you poor dear! Are you alright?" She looked up and saw
standing there, a person that was most obviously not human. He stood about
three foot six, and was very pudgy. That would have been enough to make him
a midget, but for his larger than usual eyes, the tuanyness of his skin, and his
very furry bare feet. He had his hand on her shoulder and was trying to help her
up, but all she could do was stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and awe. The
man's features seemed familiar to her, but in her confused and utterly surprised
state, nothing registered.
After a short pause, the man implored further. "Miss, are you alright?"
Coming out of her daze with a blink, she finally met his eyes. ""Umm, yeah. I'm
okay." She looked down at herself and her mud covered shirt and jeans. "If not
a little filthy."
He sighed and nodded. "Yes, Miss. That Tom, he has no respect." His face lit
up then, and became cheerful. ""But no worries! Come along now, and we'll get
you cleaned up right good!" With that he helped her to her feet and started off
toward a small cottage near the outskirts of the village.
Heather aloud herself to be helped and followed after him, not really knowing
what else to do, and looking forward to a bath.
As they walked, the man looked up to her and smiled. "I am Fredegar Bolger, by
the way, miss. But most call me Fatty and you may also." Fatty then looked to
her expectantly.
Heather looked down at him and smiled, then, realizing that she was expected to
respond she tried her best. "Then it's nice to meet you Fatty. I'm Heather." She
paused for a short moment to get her thought in order and he did not disturb her.
Fatty Bolger? She thought. Heather, if this is a dream, it's one of your wildest…
They walked in silence for a while, and Heather's mind slowly wandered to the
tale from which the name of this…hobbit had come and perhaps the hobbit
himself. She became more and more enthralled in her thoughts and didn't notice
they had stopped.
"Ah…home sweet home! Here we are, Heather!" Fatty's voice came floating to
her though her reverie, and snapped her out of it. She blinked and looked at the
quaint little cottage that stood in front of them. It was small, and very country-
cottagish. It all seemed like a scene from some English countryside, if it weren't
for the small round door…
Fatty opened the door for her and ushered her in. She had to duck to enter, but
the house itself was rather roomy. There was a coat and hat rack near the door
which she had no use for, but found it rather attractive. As she looked around,
she began to feel as if she'd been taken to some story book cottage.
Fatty smiled as he saw her looking around appreciatively. "Yes," he said. "It's all
rather pretty, isn't it? Too bad it isn't mine. I'm only house-sitting for a while until
the true owner comes back."
"Yes, it's very pretty." Heather said, coming to her senses. No kidding, she
thought. This is awesome! "But who, may I ask, are you 'sitting' it for?"
"Oh," Fatty relied, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "You wouldn't know him
probably. You look like you aren't from around here."
Heather smiled. "Good assumption."
Fatty nodded. "It wasn't an assumption. But that we can talk of later. How does
a nice, hot bath sound?"
Her eyes lit up at the prospect. "I thought you'd never ask."
((what do you think so far? Should I continue??))