02-18-2002
Note: I am sorry it took so long for me to upload this chapter. I have not had a chance to rewrite the first fifteen chapters like I said I would, for I have no extra time with all my homework and my social stuff. Again, I apologize. Please do not shoot any flamin' Orc arrows at me… you may get some back at ya! :P Anyway, please enjoy this chapter. I have decided to leave my plot holes and my nonsensicals in the previous chapters alone… so BAH!
Disclaimer: It is Tolkien's world, man. Not mine… I know that. Please do not sue unless you want a buncha Christian rock CDs. Jaell and the others that Tolkien never thought of [I am sure he would have too, if he lived longer… they are genius! Hah, I wish] are my characters and mine alone. Otay, that is all. Disperse.
Meet Jaell Brandybuck: Chapter Sixteen
I awoke the next morning with the sun. Plucking a bit of cheese and bread I packed the day I left the Shire, I ate and went on my way, careful not to leave a mess or to wake the other two. I went on my way towards the east. I passed Farmer Maggot's area the next day and on another path nigh the way, I heard singing and saw bits of light flashing through branches and brush. Lo! Who could that be? I wondered, almost stopping in my tracks to take cover.
The voices I heard were none other than Dwarvish voices in a tune of a song unfamiliar to my ears. I took only a bit of cover behind a bit of shrubbery and they passed by. I realized I must not have been in the Shire or very far to the borders, at the least. They were strange Dwarves, carrying no tools such as axes or picks. Curious, indeed. I counted twelve very old and heavy-bearded and seemingly wise Dwarves near the front but that was before behind a somewhat smaller, somewhat less-hairy, somewhat younger Dwarf picking up the back a bit. The Tookish Dwarf was at least eight paces short of the others and trying in vain to fall in step with them.
"Foili, do keep step. Hasten, young Dwarf, for we are nigh making our mark. Where is my lamp oil?" Ah, the young one has a name. Foili stumbled over his own heavy feet and made his way to the front, for they had slowed in his honour.
"Apologize I do, Master Tali." I watched as Foili took out a small canister and passing it over to Tali and the minions on the journey. They paused momentarily to refill their lamps and long enough for Foili to place it back into his sack. Tali nodded and they were on their way. Foili made his path to the back again and this was where I dropped my own pan, which was apparently not fastened correctly to my travel sack. In the bustle of the others' singing and rustling of clothes and packs, only Foili saw and gasped quietly. Oh…
"I have that for you, miss." Foili picked up the pan and handed it to me quietly. "We are on our way to leave Middle-earth."
"What is that? Oh… how did you know I was so curious as to your doings?" I replied in a breathy whisper for the others were ahead and I did not wish to cause a commotion.
"Why else would a Hobbittess be traversing in such rough brush?" He offered his thick, heavily gloved hand and I accepted and stood straight, surprised at how tall compared to my own self he really was. Nonetheless, I felt incredibly comfortable about these folk.
"Oh… I am on my own way to Rivendell. Finding my own heritage and past is my journey's goal." I said with a nod. His look was queer as I said that.
"Finding your heritage and past in Rivendell? You look nothing short of Hobbit mixed with good sturdy Dwarvish, if I may put in my own opinion. A bit short you are, for a Hobbit, miss. That is my humble thinking, course. Oi, I am Foili, son of Himli." And to no surprise, the queer look he had given me was replaced by my own back to him.
"Hullo, Foili, son of Himli. I am Jaell, daughter of Seradoc Brandybuck of Buckland in the Shire."
"Seems to me, you know plenty of your own self already." I could not help but wonder how his slow body could be connected to a quick mind.
"Son of Himli, it seems your company is far off without you." At my statement, he looked to where his company had gone.
"Fair enough for me, Miss Jaell. I was nothing but a servant to that kind but tough master of mine. I sat here, wishing to Elbereth that I would have a chance to escape. See, I do not really want to leave Middle-earth. The forest is fine for me." I gasped at his mention of Elbereth.
"Elbereth? But you, a Dwarf, care for the Elves?" Foili nodded in a shy manner, fingering his worn leather cloak. He proceeded to sit on a rock nigh our meeting place and invited me to sit as well. I sat nigh his place on the soft cool grass, gently placing my sack near the brush.
"I was raised by Elves as a young Dwarf, for I was orphaned at a young age." I gave a small wince at the similarities of this to another person I knew well. He took no heed to my reaction and proceeded. "A few Dwarves came through Lórien, looking for me. It seems that my father, bless his soul, had left me something of value… something of high regard to my birthpeople." I nodded in interest. He was a natural storyteller, not nearly as Bilbo was, but very closely so. "My father left me a treasure so beautiful, the Dwarves could not stand that a Dwarf with close ties to Elves had it in their care. It was a beautiful set of mithril swords with Elvish characters engraved so delicately. After that night, I was taken as was my heirlooms." He hung his head sadly as he recounted his experience.
"Talk no more, Foili. Rest now and be on your way. When you get the strength and desire, I ask that you continue your recountance. Perhaps it is something that requires two minds." Foili nodded exhaustedly and graciously, leaning his sore and tired back against a tree so old, it had the wrinkles and wear of the oldest man in the Shire. Foili quickly nodded off and I simply sat there with his tale of sadness swimming in my mind that put all my thinking into total perspective.