Chapter 18
Seeing Her as I Have
They could hear the padding of their feet that echoed down the corridor as Tom and Tulsi walked arm in arm. Her eyes would wander from the direction of where they were going to the lad she walked beside watching him wordlessly. Shyly their eyes would meet periodically and he would casually smile and then quickly look away. She noticed the flittering of his eyes that went from one door to the next and he seemed rather excited in his anticipation to see the young foal. Knowing Tom as she did, from the first day that he arrived at Brandy Hall, some fifteen years ago and just shortly after his thirty-third birthday, he had begun working with the older hobbits in the stables. Everyone could tell even then of his talents.
Tom had a rare gift with the ponies of Brandy Hall. They seemed to immediately trust him, even the most timid of them. Tom only had to walk up to a pony, reached out his hand, and softly speak to them to win their trust.
Being a stable lad, Tom had rarely seen the need to visit folks who lived at Brandy Hall. In fact, the farthest that he had ever been in the manor was the great hall, the large common room, the Master's study and of course the kitchen. He had never wandered the halls for the residents and did not know which room Tulsi was leading him. But he trusted her and followed her willingly.
It amazed him to see how many hobbits strolled through the halls at any given time. They made their way to the many areas and gathering rooms where they socialized and contributed their many manners of gifts. The residents of Brandy Hall seem to meet each other's needs as they sold, bartered and gave away many items of their wares. He recognized many of the Bucklanders that walked to and fro and nodded politely to them as they passed them in the long hallways. There were many different corridors that turned to the left and to the right. Tom quickly looked down the lengths of them as he traveled with Tulsi. He knew how huge Brandy Hall was from the outside, but it looked all the larger from within. All their voices seemed to combine into a single loud noisy mass and it made him cringe. The doors that constantly snapped opened and then banged closed as each hobbit found their place that they needed to go blended into the chaos of these halls. For Tom, he preferred the quietness of the stables with the songs of the birds to entertain him.
He was a simple hobbit of very simple means. A bed of straw and a warm blanket was enough for Tom to find a good night's rest, but thinking about Tulsi, who walked beside him, he wondered if that was enough for him. Master Merry's words came back to him and remembered the last thing that he had told him. Knowing that the stables had to be rebuilt, he was going to add an additional room to make a permanent home for Tom. This thought made him smile as a daydream filled and floated within his mind. He could see a fine room with a small hearth in the center and a warm comfortable sofa where he and Tulsi would sit together holding hands in the evening. There would be a warm woven rug upon the floor and homemade pillows to make it cozy. He could see the flicker of candlelight that would add to their comfort and a wooded framed bed with a soft feather mattress in the far corner.
He drew himself from his daydream when he felt his cheeks becoming warm and glanced nervously at the lass by his side. The palm of his hand that rested in the crook of her elbow began to sweat and he wished he could borrow it back to dry it. Tom was thankful when Tulsi suddenly stopped in front of the door labeled Berilac Brandybuck and let go of her arm. She smiled up at him just before she knocked upon the door. He could hear a voice call out to them to enter and Tulsi, turned the handle and escorted him in.
Upon their first appraisal it had appeared the white fluffy ball of delicate fur that rested upon the floor in Berilac's lap could have been a dog, but the closer they approached was the smallest foal that Tom had ever seen. She was white as snow and the delicate outline of her small features of her face made him smile as he knelt down upon his heels. She had a small rounded nose and tiny nostrils that slowly fluttered taking in slow puffs of breath while she was lost in her sleep. The dark outlines of her eyes and long eyelashes that rested in a soft coat of fine newborn fur endured the foal to him. An empty baby bottle was cast aside and gave evidence to the gentle care that Berilac gave this foal. He slowly ran his hand across the softness of her fur not wanting to leave her side, but for Tom, he did.
The foal opened her eyes and lifted her head when Tom stretched out his hand to her and let her take in his scent. His soft gentle voice called to her and her ears stood straight up. The foal rocked upon her knees to stand to greet the voice that she had heard constantly from inside her mother's womb.
Berilac scooted himself away from the foal to stand next to Tulsi. Smiling, they watched Tom put his arms around the foal's small neck, resting his cheek against the fluffy, snow-white baby fur. She stood just above his knee and about four or five hands tall. His fingers gently traced down her back and knelt down again next to her. Seeing the small foal brought images in his mind of her mother. He remembered the day when Sheerimac was born and then Shimmering a couple years afterwards of a mother nestled closely with her newborn foal at her side. This is how it should have been for this little one before him. Now no mother would rest beside her or ever know the feelings of her love.
Tears instantly filled his eyes as he pulling back and gently held the foal's little head in his hand and spoke ever so softly to her. "I'm sorry about your mama, little one. If'n I'd 'o been there, I'd 'o done my best to save her fer ya!"
Her sweet small face and trusting eyes watched Tom carefully. It brought his tears flowing down his cheek as he too remembered losing his own mother as a young lad and the pain that remained forever etched into his heart. He wiped his sleeve of his nightshirt across his eyes to clear the tears that kept falling so he could see her clearly and sniffed. Looking into her deep dark eyes that stared back at him he could see the intelligence within them. His fingers touched the soft silky texture of her newborn fur that would someday be a long white mane and his eyes rested upon it. Tom lightly smiled as a name came to his mind. "Yer as white and soft as the first falling snow upon a cool winter morning," again the tears swelled in Tom's eyes taking in how small and delicate she appeared. His words choked within his throat and he fought to get them out. "Ya may have been born without yer mama to tend ya, but ya can count on Tom fer everything ya be needin', my little sweet Snowmane!"
His tears fell thickly from his eyes while Snowmane nuzzled up against him and her soft nose stroked and lightly tickled him. Tom let out a small giggle after being so welcomed by the little foal that he had named.
Berilac put his arm around Tulsi after seeing her cry from the touching scene before them.
"Snowmane is it, Tom?" The familiar voice came from behind them and they quickly turned to see Merry and Estella standing in the doorway of Berilac's room.
Tom's face felt hot again as the redness crept back into his cheeks. "Beggin' yer pardon and all, Master Merry. But seeing her as I have, I couldn't help myself none. If ever a foal was ta be called Snowmane, it's this foal here," stated Tom as he rose to his feet so his master could take a good look at her.
Merry shook his head indecisive as his own memories of a horse that bared that name and a king that rode upon her and treasured her. He could still see in his mind of them being killed that day upon the battlefield of Pelennor by the Nazgûl king. A memory that he wished forgotten in his mind, but always to be remembered from the pain in his arm on the anniversary of that day.
Tom had tried to convince Merry when Shimmering was born to call her Snowmane, but when Merry looked upon the newborn foal and he had said that she shimmered like the sun on the Brandywine River. Tom instantly loved the name Shimmering and thought that suited her perfectly. Merry had never told Tom about the death of King Thèoden nor the horse that he rode that day in battle. It was uncanny that Tom kept pressuring him to name one of his ponies Snowmane.
Merry bent down and petted the small foal as he grappled in his mind to find the perfect name for this little foal. But everything that came to his mind did not suit her. He looked up to the four hobbits who watched him wordlessly and then noticed Estella's petulant face angry and set. He could tell that she was going to use her wifely influence to convince him differently if he chose another name. All though the others could not see the battle that was taking place between husband and wife, Merry already knew the war was lost and stood in defeat before her. "You're right, Tom. Snowmane it is. I've never seen a whiter foal such as this one here."
Snowmane walked up to Berilac and nestled her head next to him. Merry's eyes lifted in astonishment seeing how the foal had taken to him. His eyes twinkled mischievously and wink at his wife. He knew how much this meant to Berilac and quickly commented, "Looks to me that Berilac has found himself a loyal friend who will one day take him upon her back to race the length of the Eastfarthing."
Berilac's eyes widened and looked down upon the little foal. A bright beaming smile crossed his lips and he bent down to pet her.
"That, or she is just wanting another bottle to fill her empty stomach!" Merry added to get his goat, so to speak.
Berilac's eyes snapped up towards Merry and scowled at him. "Snowmane and I are real friends, Merry, and she'll always be. Someday we'll race you and Sherimac and I know Snowmane will win the both of you!"
"That, dear cousin, remains to be seen!" said Merry and joined the others as they all gathered around the young foal to pet and spoil her.
XXX
The servants filed into the hallway, each one carrying a tub of dirty dishes to the kitchen for them to be washed, dried and put back for the second breakfast within a couple of hours.
Pippin's stomach growled and pitched feeling the emptiness with in. His lip fell into a pout and had wished that his son could have woken him up just a little earlier. He knew if he missed first breakfast, that he had no choice but to wait until the second breakfast as there was no handouts in between. Then knowing how he had messed the kitchen last night, Hatty was not going to be too receptive of feeding him an extra meal. If the scoundrel that he and Faramir were trying to find was hiding in the kitchen, he had found the perfect spot, because Pippin had no intention of entering the kitchen and facing the cook.
His eyes darted from one guard to the next and then to his son's face to see if he recognized them. But little Faramir kept walking and looked at each guard he came across. Down one hallway and then turning into the next, Pippin led his son. Not only did Faramir look for Faradom, he was also looking to find Estella. His eyes went from guard to lasses faces of each Bucklander whom they passed.
Pippin yawned as the minutes ticked by without finding a single guard that matched this illusive scoundrel they were trying to find. Faramir pulled at his father's hand when he wanted to go down the hallway that led to the kitchen. When his father pulled back and would not follow his son, Faramir questioned him. "Are you afraid, Da?"
Pippin looked apprehensive at his son and winced while he shook his head. "No, Faramir. I've faced many menacing foes in my younger days, from trolls to orcs. Besides there are many guards here in Brandy Hall that will protect us," Pippin told his son confidently, but he was not too sure about an angry cook in the kitchen. His eyebrow lowered at one end and raise at the other in trepidation as his son continued to pull him down the hallway. He could feel the doom fast approaching with each step that he took. The hallway was empty, but he could hear the clanging of pots and pans being washed and clicking of plates being stacked coming from the kitchen. He kept his eyes focused upon the kitchen door in fear that Hatty would suddenly appear through them. A sheen of sweat began to form upon his brow and slowly dripped off the side of his face. His heartbeat raced in his chest and his breathing in short fast gasps. Slowly he crept down the hallway making sure each step was a silent one.
Faramir looked up at his father and felt that they were upon the scary hobbit that they were searching for. Copying his father's strategy, he began walking on his tiptoes sneaking down the hallway and just past the door of the kitchen.
Suddenly the doors swung open and Pippin jumped straight up in the air followed by a high-pitched scream of fear. Faramir immediately fell to his knees and covered his head thinking the battle was upon them and the enemy attacking from all sides.
A loud shrieking voice that would match any banshee in the most horrifying dark corner of a hallway sounded just behind him, "Mister Peregrin Took!" it shouted.
Faramir raised his head from his crouched position upon the floor to see his father being pulled by the ear and brought into the kitchen by old Hatty, the cook. Faramir straightened himself to stand and shook his head in astonishment of why his father was so afraid of a simple cook. Shaking his head he turned sharply and ran face first into a hard impenetrable form of a hobbit dressed in green trousers and matching green vest. There was a thick belt about his waist and a sword hung in its sheath. Faramir closed his eyes in fear as he heart raced pounding in his chest. He knew the moment he would raise his eyes to look upon his face that there would be a yellow streak of hair showing just under the band of his green cap. His eye would be hardened and mean and he would snatch him and carry him off away from his father. A deep tremble shook the little lad from each fiber of his being and he almost froze completely in his place from the fear, but ventured to slowly raise his eyes upon the guard.
"You should not be out wandering around the halls by yourself, little one," commented the friendly voice of a hobbit with long curly brown hair that hung well passed the guards shoulder and tied with a leather band. His eyes were kindly eyes that matched the gentle smile upon his lips while he bent down to talk with Faramir.
A sigh of relief escaped the small lad's lips and he smiled towards the guard. "I'm not alone, my Da is in the kitchen with the cook. I think he is afraid of her!" Faramir told the kindly guard.
"I think I know which cook your Da could possibly be afraid of. He is not alone in his feelings," the guard said with a bit of a chuckle in his voice. "Come, let's go see your Da and this fearful cook!"
Quiet, silent feet crept down the remaining part of the hall and up to the door of the kitchen just after a guard and the small lad walked in. Carefully he slowly opened the door and peered in. As quick as a rat, he made a dash away from the door and into another hiding spot just off the kitchen area and behind the wooden column by the back doors of Brandy Hall, as a servant made her way out of the kitchen.
Cursing to himself, Faradom knew he had missed his chance, but he knew from his past experience that a small lad sleeping in his bed was a very easy target.
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ShireElf: Faradom knows from his past what his capabilities are and will use whatever means that presents themselves to him in order to win his outcome. In the next upcoming chapters he will do what it takes to win. Hehehehehe....Looks at Faradom and then the much taller cliff that ShireElf is talking about...thinking and thinking. Loveofthering smiles back to ShireElf.
BedTimeMonster : I cannot give too much away in answering your questions, but your eyes are sharp and can spot out the possibilities. You are most welcome and you can ask ShireElf, I am a very loyal reviewer when someone takes their time to read and review one of my stories. I love to read FF stories and review each one that I have read. I really enjoy your stories they are awesome! You write very well and I love your ideas you bring to them. Keep writing and I'll keep reviewing them!
Seeing Her as I Have
They could hear the padding of their feet that echoed down the corridor as Tom and Tulsi walked arm in arm. Her eyes would wander from the direction of where they were going to the lad she walked beside watching him wordlessly. Shyly their eyes would meet periodically and he would casually smile and then quickly look away. She noticed the flittering of his eyes that went from one door to the next and he seemed rather excited in his anticipation to see the young foal. Knowing Tom as she did, from the first day that he arrived at Brandy Hall, some fifteen years ago and just shortly after his thirty-third birthday, he had begun working with the older hobbits in the stables. Everyone could tell even then of his talents.
Tom had a rare gift with the ponies of Brandy Hall. They seemed to immediately trust him, even the most timid of them. Tom only had to walk up to a pony, reached out his hand, and softly speak to them to win their trust.
Being a stable lad, Tom had rarely seen the need to visit folks who lived at Brandy Hall. In fact, the farthest that he had ever been in the manor was the great hall, the large common room, the Master's study and of course the kitchen. He had never wandered the halls for the residents and did not know which room Tulsi was leading him. But he trusted her and followed her willingly.
It amazed him to see how many hobbits strolled through the halls at any given time. They made their way to the many areas and gathering rooms where they socialized and contributed their many manners of gifts. The residents of Brandy Hall seem to meet each other's needs as they sold, bartered and gave away many items of their wares. He recognized many of the Bucklanders that walked to and fro and nodded politely to them as they passed them in the long hallways. There were many different corridors that turned to the left and to the right. Tom quickly looked down the lengths of them as he traveled with Tulsi. He knew how huge Brandy Hall was from the outside, but it looked all the larger from within. All their voices seemed to combine into a single loud noisy mass and it made him cringe. The doors that constantly snapped opened and then banged closed as each hobbit found their place that they needed to go blended into the chaos of these halls. For Tom, he preferred the quietness of the stables with the songs of the birds to entertain him.
He was a simple hobbit of very simple means. A bed of straw and a warm blanket was enough for Tom to find a good night's rest, but thinking about Tulsi, who walked beside him, he wondered if that was enough for him. Master Merry's words came back to him and remembered the last thing that he had told him. Knowing that the stables had to be rebuilt, he was going to add an additional room to make a permanent home for Tom. This thought made him smile as a daydream filled and floated within his mind. He could see a fine room with a small hearth in the center and a warm comfortable sofa where he and Tulsi would sit together holding hands in the evening. There would be a warm woven rug upon the floor and homemade pillows to make it cozy. He could see the flicker of candlelight that would add to their comfort and a wooded framed bed with a soft feather mattress in the far corner.
He drew himself from his daydream when he felt his cheeks becoming warm and glanced nervously at the lass by his side. The palm of his hand that rested in the crook of her elbow began to sweat and he wished he could borrow it back to dry it. Tom was thankful when Tulsi suddenly stopped in front of the door labeled Berilac Brandybuck and let go of her arm. She smiled up at him just before she knocked upon the door. He could hear a voice call out to them to enter and Tulsi, turned the handle and escorted him in.
Upon their first appraisal it had appeared the white fluffy ball of delicate fur that rested upon the floor in Berilac's lap could have been a dog, but the closer they approached was the smallest foal that Tom had ever seen. She was white as snow and the delicate outline of her small features of her face made him smile as he knelt down upon his heels. She had a small rounded nose and tiny nostrils that slowly fluttered taking in slow puffs of breath while she was lost in her sleep. The dark outlines of her eyes and long eyelashes that rested in a soft coat of fine newborn fur endured the foal to him. An empty baby bottle was cast aside and gave evidence to the gentle care that Berilac gave this foal. He slowly ran his hand across the softness of her fur not wanting to leave her side, but for Tom, he did.
The foal opened her eyes and lifted her head when Tom stretched out his hand to her and let her take in his scent. His soft gentle voice called to her and her ears stood straight up. The foal rocked upon her knees to stand to greet the voice that she had heard constantly from inside her mother's womb.
Berilac scooted himself away from the foal to stand next to Tulsi. Smiling, they watched Tom put his arms around the foal's small neck, resting his cheek against the fluffy, snow-white baby fur. She stood just above his knee and about four or five hands tall. His fingers gently traced down her back and knelt down again next to her. Seeing the small foal brought images in his mind of her mother. He remembered the day when Sheerimac was born and then Shimmering a couple years afterwards of a mother nestled closely with her newborn foal at her side. This is how it should have been for this little one before him. Now no mother would rest beside her or ever know the feelings of her love.
Tears instantly filled his eyes as he pulling back and gently held the foal's little head in his hand and spoke ever so softly to her. "I'm sorry about your mama, little one. If'n I'd 'o been there, I'd 'o done my best to save her fer ya!"
Her sweet small face and trusting eyes watched Tom carefully. It brought his tears flowing down his cheek as he too remembered losing his own mother as a young lad and the pain that remained forever etched into his heart. He wiped his sleeve of his nightshirt across his eyes to clear the tears that kept falling so he could see her clearly and sniffed. Looking into her deep dark eyes that stared back at him he could see the intelligence within them. His fingers touched the soft silky texture of her newborn fur that would someday be a long white mane and his eyes rested upon it. Tom lightly smiled as a name came to his mind. "Yer as white and soft as the first falling snow upon a cool winter morning," again the tears swelled in Tom's eyes taking in how small and delicate she appeared. His words choked within his throat and he fought to get them out. "Ya may have been born without yer mama to tend ya, but ya can count on Tom fer everything ya be needin', my little sweet Snowmane!"
His tears fell thickly from his eyes while Snowmane nuzzled up against him and her soft nose stroked and lightly tickled him. Tom let out a small giggle after being so welcomed by the little foal that he had named.
Berilac put his arm around Tulsi after seeing her cry from the touching scene before them.
"Snowmane is it, Tom?" The familiar voice came from behind them and they quickly turned to see Merry and Estella standing in the doorway of Berilac's room.
Tom's face felt hot again as the redness crept back into his cheeks. "Beggin' yer pardon and all, Master Merry. But seeing her as I have, I couldn't help myself none. If ever a foal was ta be called Snowmane, it's this foal here," stated Tom as he rose to his feet so his master could take a good look at her.
Merry shook his head indecisive as his own memories of a horse that bared that name and a king that rode upon her and treasured her. He could still see in his mind of them being killed that day upon the battlefield of Pelennor by the Nazgûl king. A memory that he wished forgotten in his mind, but always to be remembered from the pain in his arm on the anniversary of that day.
Tom had tried to convince Merry when Shimmering was born to call her Snowmane, but when Merry looked upon the newborn foal and he had said that she shimmered like the sun on the Brandywine River. Tom instantly loved the name Shimmering and thought that suited her perfectly. Merry had never told Tom about the death of King Thèoden nor the horse that he rode that day in battle. It was uncanny that Tom kept pressuring him to name one of his ponies Snowmane.
Merry bent down and petted the small foal as he grappled in his mind to find the perfect name for this little foal. But everything that came to his mind did not suit her. He looked up to the four hobbits who watched him wordlessly and then noticed Estella's petulant face angry and set. He could tell that she was going to use her wifely influence to convince him differently if he chose another name. All though the others could not see the battle that was taking place between husband and wife, Merry already knew the war was lost and stood in defeat before her. "You're right, Tom. Snowmane it is. I've never seen a whiter foal such as this one here."
Snowmane walked up to Berilac and nestled her head next to him. Merry's eyes lifted in astonishment seeing how the foal had taken to him. His eyes twinkled mischievously and wink at his wife. He knew how much this meant to Berilac and quickly commented, "Looks to me that Berilac has found himself a loyal friend who will one day take him upon her back to race the length of the Eastfarthing."
Berilac's eyes widened and looked down upon the little foal. A bright beaming smile crossed his lips and he bent down to pet her.
"That, or she is just wanting another bottle to fill her empty stomach!" Merry added to get his goat, so to speak.
Berilac's eyes snapped up towards Merry and scowled at him. "Snowmane and I are real friends, Merry, and she'll always be. Someday we'll race you and Sherimac and I know Snowmane will win the both of you!"
"That, dear cousin, remains to be seen!" said Merry and joined the others as they all gathered around the young foal to pet and spoil her.
XXX
The servants filed into the hallway, each one carrying a tub of dirty dishes to the kitchen for them to be washed, dried and put back for the second breakfast within a couple of hours.
Pippin's stomach growled and pitched feeling the emptiness with in. His lip fell into a pout and had wished that his son could have woken him up just a little earlier. He knew if he missed first breakfast, that he had no choice but to wait until the second breakfast as there was no handouts in between. Then knowing how he had messed the kitchen last night, Hatty was not going to be too receptive of feeding him an extra meal. If the scoundrel that he and Faramir were trying to find was hiding in the kitchen, he had found the perfect spot, because Pippin had no intention of entering the kitchen and facing the cook.
His eyes darted from one guard to the next and then to his son's face to see if he recognized them. But little Faramir kept walking and looked at each guard he came across. Down one hallway and then turning into the next, Pippin led his son. Not only did Faramir look for Faradom, he was also looking to find Estella. His eyes went from guard to lasses faces of each Bucklander whom they passed.
Pippin yawned as the minutes ticked by without finding a single guard that matched this illusive scoundrel they were trying to find. Faramir pulled at his father's hand when he wanted to go down the hallway that led to the kitchen. When his father pulled back and would not follow his son, Faramir questioned him. "Are you afraid, Da?"
Pippin looked apprehensive at his son and winced while he shook his head. "No, Faramir. I've faced many menacing foes in my younger days, from trolls to orcs. Besides there are many guards here in Brandy Hall that will protect us," Pippin told his son confidently, but he was not too sure about an angry cook in the kitchen. His eyebrow lowered at one end and raise at the other in trepidation as his son continued to pull him down the hallway. He could feel the doom fast approaching with each step that he took. The hallway was empty, but he could hear the clanging of pots and pans being washed and clicking of plates being stacked coming from the kitchen. He kept his eyes focused upon the kitchen door in fear that Hatty would suddenly appear through them. A sheen of sweat began to form upon his brow and slowly dripped off the side of his face. His heartbeat raced in his chest and his breathing in short fast gasps. Slowly he crept down the hallway making sure each step was a silent one.
Faramir looked up at his father and felt that they were upon the scary hobbit that they were searching for. Copying his father's strategy, he began walking on his tiptoes sneaking down the hallway and just past the door of the kitchen.
Suddenly the doors swung open and Pippin jumped straight up in the air followed by a high-pitched scream of fear. Faramir immediately fell to his knees and covered his head thinking the battle was upon them and the enemy attacking from all sides.
A loud shrieking voice that would match any banshee in the most horrifying dark corner of a hallway sounded just behind him, "Mister Peregrin Took!" it shouted.
Faramir raised his head from his crouched position upon the floor to see his father being pulled by the ear and brought into the kitchen by old Hatty, the cook. Faramir straightened himself to stand and shook his head in astonishment of why his father was so afraid of a simple cook. Shaking his head he turned sharply and ran face first into a hard impenetrable form of a hobbit dressed in green trousers and matching green vest. There was a thick belt about his waist and a sword hung in its sheath. Faramir closed his eyes in fear as he heart raced pounding in his chest. He knew the moment he would raise his eyes to look upon his face that there would be a yellow streak of hair showing just under the band of his green cap. His eye would be hardened and mean and he would snatch him and carry him off away from his father. A deep tremble shook the little lad from each fiber of his being and he almost froze completely in his place from the fear, but ventured to slowly raise his eyes upon the guard.
"You should not be out wandering around the halls by yourself, little one," commented the friendly voice of a hobbit with long curly brown hair that hung well passed the guards shoulder and tied with a leather band. His eyes were kindly eyes that matched the gentle smile upon his lips while he bent down to talk with Faramir.
A sigh of relief escaped the small lad's lips and he smiled towards the guard. "I'm not alone, my Da is in the kitchen with the cook. I think he is afraid of her!" Faramir told the kindly guard.
"I think I know which cook your Da could possibly be afraid of. He is not alone in his feelings," the guard said with a bit of a chuckle in his voice. "Come, let's go see your Da and this fearful cook!"
Quiet, silent feet crept down the remaining part of the hall and up to the door of the kitchen just after a guard and the small lad walked in. Carefully he slowly opened the door and peered in. As quick as a rat, he made a dash away from the door and into another hiding spot just off the kitchen area and behind the wooden column by the back doors of Brandy Hall, as a servant made her way out of the kitchen.
Cursing to himself, Faradom knew he had missed his chance, but he knew from his past experience that a small lad sleeping in his bed was a very easy target.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
ShireElf: Faradom knows from his past what his capabilities are and will use whatever means that presents themselves to him in order to win his outcome. In the next upcoming chapters he will do what it takes to win. Hehehehehe....Looks at Faradom and then the much taller cliff that ShireElf is talking about...thinking and thinking. Loveofthering smiles back to ShireElf.
BedTimeMonster : I cannot give too much away in answering your questions, but your eyes are sharp and can spot out the possibilities. You are most welcome and you can ask ShireElf, I am a very loyal reviewer when someone takes their time to read and review one of my stories. I love to read FF stories and review each one that I have read. I really enjoy your stories they are awesome! You write very well and I love your ideas you bring to them. Keep writing and I'll keep reviewing them!