Now it may be that you're altogether familiar with the village of Hobbiton. The more read amongst you may even be aware of the hilly acreage to the south known as Tookland. But it is naught but the most deeply inquisitive who know of the little woodland town of Wreath, built into a tiny mountain in between.
Wreath was not a terribly unique locality as far as the Shire was concerned, save for the abundance of mighty pine trees which sat, untouched for years on account of the small population of mostly hole-dwelling folk. Where buildings were erected, it was mostly Tooks from the south or hobbits of high standing from Hobbiton who greedily wished for a more secluded and peaceful lifestyle than they already had.
A single quiet brook babbled it's way into the eastern edge of town, then quietly sank underground to meet up with it's mother, the Brandywine, some miles to the north. Now it was that one day, a stranger could be seen wandering about the bank. He wore a green cloak and a bluish silken hat. In his hand he bore what looked to be a walking stick, though it was notably taller than him and almost wide enough he couldn't wrap his hand around it. He stood tall over the local population, but not nearly as tall as an elf or a man.
Now I'll briefly divert to indulge the less informed; almost all notable shire-families share unique characteristics. As a completely arbitrary example, Baggins' have been well understood to be quiet, peaceful, lovers of peace and quiet. They like when nothing particularly out of the ordinary or interesting takes place in their day-to-day lives, and begin to grow somewhat uncomfortable at the indication that they may well be about to learn or experience something unusual.
Rosa Baggins nearly fell over as she carried her bucket down to the brook and noticed a stranger (not even a hobbit) sitting atop a boulder next to the bank. She considered postponing her routine trip to the brook, but then considered that postponing her trip to the brook would mean postponing the washing up, which meant postponing the cooking, which meant, of course, postponing supper. There are very few things hobbits will not do to have supper ontime.
Underneath her curly brown hair, Rosa's brain became a record with a most dreadful scratch as she approached the water: "please don't say hello, please don't say hello, please don't say hello, please don't say hello-" "How do you do, madam?" came a voice from atop the rock. She winced. As she looked she saw the young, hairless face of the stranger before her lit up joyously.
Once more I feel I should divert for a moment to share some more context. While a Baggins may well be understood to shy away from any and all affairs hitherto unknown, they are exceptionally and compulsively polite, least to any who are polite first. If a Baggins was to run you out of their house, you need only hold the door open for them on the way out to get invited back in for tea.
"I'm well, thank you." She said. She looked about for any sign of friend or foe, his or hers, but Wreath is a sleepy town. Naught but a couple larks gave a sign of life besides the happy fellow sat before her. "Who are you?" She asked reluctantly. Suddenly the little green stranger jumped down before her. With a flourish he said: "My name is catnap, the wandering green wizard!"
Rosa looked almost through him. She'd only ever heard of wizards in stories she didn't think true. She didn't know those things actually existed, or came in green. "You don't much look like a wizard to me." She said. "Aren't wizards men of elder years, with long white hair and beard?" "I don't even think you are a big person. I've met big people before, and they're bigger than you." Catnap looked as though he could cry. "FIRST of all," said he, "I have met plenty of men- GROWN men who were this small." "And while I may not look like the great white wizard, I assure you I am every bit as much of a wizard as he is." Rosa blinked. "So are you a man?" She asked. "NO I'm not a man!" he shouted.
The red-cloaked damsel chuckled as she bent down to fill her bucket. She thought it was funny and cute that one of the big people were out playing dress-up in the shire. "So I guess it was worth coming down here after all?" Said catnap. She was taken aback. "Excuse me?" "You thought it'd be miserable talking to a stranger down at the brook. Do you still feel miserable?" He asked. "How did you-" he looked at her knowingly. That was the instant the last inkling of doubt she had at his narrative faded away.
After a moment's thought she said "I'd best get this pail back up the hill." But catnap stopped her. "You could take it over to Old Took's." he said. "I hear his knees aren't so good for it anymore." She looked down the road at the stone brick house covered in pine needles. "I don't know, I sort of have a whole routine, and I-" "Rosa Baggins." he said. "You have but one pot in your entire hole."
It is true that, due to circumstances beyond her control, she'd sometime ago abandoned her home and more or less anyone she could consider family or friend. Without getting any visitors or living with anyone, she hardly needed a whole bucket of water to wash her dishes. But she'd long ago began to feel like other people were the source of all her problems.
"What's so bad about that?" She asked. "I want this water more than I need the affection of some old gaffer." Catnap didn't say anything. Rather, he raised his staff towards the bucket, and the gemstone on the end began to glow. Slowly the water rose out of the bucket. "Hey what are you doing?" Rosa yelped. The bucket was now empty as the water rose to head height. Suddenly, tiny blades of water began to shoot out and pelt her in the face.
"Ah! Hey!" She yelled. "Stop that!" catnap laughed uproariously. "Some joker you are!" She said as she started up the hill. "Wait, wait!" catnap called. "I want to show you something." He reached his free hand forward and poked the bubble in the air. As it floated towards the young hobbit, she heard a mysterious tone emanating from within. "Poke it!" catnap said as it came to a halt in front of her.
She carefully reached out and pushed her finger into the warbling mass of water. From it sprang a harmony, sweet and delicate, as nothing she'd heard before. The more she poked and prodded, the more complex and novel the song became. Until at last the ripples on all sides began to crash into each other and turned to cacophony. Then catnap held out the bucket and let the water fall back in.
"Such is the order of this world." He said, setting the bucket down at her feet. "Do you get it?" She paused to look at the water continuing to ripple in the bucket. She could almost hear the symphony fading out as it drew still. She looked up at his hopeful eyes. "I think so." She said. Then she took up the bucket, and walked down the road to the Old Took's house.
The ornate circular door of the Old Took's brick estate was almost an entire hobbit thick; thusly it made an enormous noise when even the little Baggins dared to knock. Of course, that wasn't the noise young Hildigrim was ever distressed by. Rather it was the awful sound of his elderly father, Gerontius Took (otherwise known as "the Old Took"), screeching for him to answer the door. Often he wished dearly that life had been better to him.
Truth be told, life had been very sweet to the lanky blonde. The pantries of Old Took's house were literally never empty, as the greater tooks and all the old man's many children were liable to visit at any time. Wreath had an exceptional library (by hobbit standards) and while not technically a part of South Farthing, was still well thought of for it's crop of pipeweed. So while the Old Took was exceptionally difficult to deal with much of the time, and being selected as his heir could certainly not have been considered spectacular luck, Hildigrim would've been a fool to consider himself unfortunate.
The old man's raspy voice assaulted his ears once again. "The door boy, the door!" he yelled from upstairs. The young hobbit rolled his eyes. One of these days he'd run off to sea like his brother, he swore it. Carefully setting down a small carving project, he made for the foyer. Opening the door with a mighty creak, he was somewhat startled at the sight of the unexpectedly young and beautiful caller of the Old Took's property.
"H-hello!" He stuttered. Rosa blushed. "Is old mr Took home?" She asked. "Of course he is." Said he. "Never goes anywhere, the old artifact." The pair shared a laugh over that remark. "..Whom should I tell him is calling?" he asked. She hardly felt sharing her name to be an important step for sharing a pail of water. "My name's Rosa" she said. "And who should I happen to be calling?" It was Hildigrim's turn blushing.
But before he could get another word out, old man Gerontius was over the railing. "What is it you want, young lady?" His words were like nails on a chalkboard. "I just popped in to see if you need a pail of water from the brook!" Rosa called innocently. The artifact lit up. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd come by magic!" He said. "Come, Hildigrim, bring the pail! I was just about to take my bath and-" He continued babbling as he shuffled off to his chambers. Rosa handed the bucket over to the handsome hobbit. "It was good meeting you, Hildigrim." She said with a smile. As she turn to leave, her young host's face was red as the morning sun.
Rosa had dinner late. As a matter of fact, the entire ordeal with the bucket had mucked up the entire neat order around which she lived (more or less) her entire life. She'd taken dinner and a bath and had an hour of reading time before bed every evening for as long as she cared to remember. She'd had to put a bookmark in her book mid-chapter, because bedtime was upon her too soon to read any further.
But somehow, none of this bothered her. She'd also never had a feeling in her stomach like the one with which she now climbed into bed. It felt like anxiety (which hobbits cannot stand), but kind of a tickling, giggling anxiety. She felt like a world of things she never had happen to her could happen, and that thought scared her. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't escape the nagging feeling of joy in her heart as she fell asleep.
It was very very late in the Dancing Falcon. Hildigrim didn't quite know how late. He couldn't read the clock, and as far as he could tell that still made him the sober one of the bunch. Isembold was asleep in the corner with a black eye. Gorbradoc muttered something that seemed to suggest he was going home, then started for the door and passed out. Hildigrim started laughing heartily at the poor fellow.
Little miss, little miss iron pot!
Pot's too heavy while its filled with draught!
Little miss, little miss, one more dollop
Into the pot and watch her drop!
Then all of a sudden came a voice unfamiliar. "Hildigrim Took!" he turned to see a most unintimidating figure of the little green wizard looming over him. "I wonder if you're quite aware of what time it is." He said. "Mm, no-" "You know you're going to have a hangover tomorrow, drinking well into the night like this." The wizard continued.
"Hmph. Who even are you?" the hobbit hiccuped. "As far as you're concerned, I may as well be a wizard." Hildigrim's eyes lit up. "A wizard! Can you make Rose Greenhand love me?" "Wha- Rose Greenhand?" Said the wizard. "No, no, no. That'd be no good, you and her. Besides, her heart has long since been taken." The poor sap fell dejected to the table. "I bet a real wizard could do it…"
"A real wizard!" Catnap scoffed as he stood up. "Hobbits!" he snapped frustratedly as he stormed out of the pub.
As the sun rose the next morning, Rosa awoke still feeling quite different than she had before. Of course, now the euphoric feelings of the night before had somewhat worn off, so she had less difficulty considering her feelings of dread. She got herself together and set about busily tidying her hobbit hole as was routine.
Dust the mantlepiece, clear the fireplace. Sweep the pantry, put away last night's clean dishes. Dust the window seals and look at the view. There was that wizard from the other day on the front lawn. Tidy the blankets, water the flowers, beat the rugs- "Wait." She thought, all of a sudden considering her front lawn again. "Is that wizard sitting on my front lawn?"
As a matter of fact, the wizard was sitting on her front lawn. He'd been there for quite some time now, and he whistled a happy tune while he poked thru a comically thick and utterly ancient leather book. Before long, the hobbit was upon him. She cleared her throat as she stood over him, blocking the morning sun with her hands on her hips.
"What are you doing here?" She asked. The brim of the wizard's soft hat lifted as he wearily looked up at the homeowner. "Ah!" He said with a sudden smile, slamming his massive book shut with a great thud. "Miss Baggins! Just the lady I wanted to see. Such a charming coincidence I should find you here." He stuffed his book into a satchel that was maybe half it's size, and after a small struggle the entire thing was swallowed up.
"At my house?" Said the hobbit. "Where else would I be? Who else would be here?" "Nevermind that." Replied the wizard. "I have a favor to ask of you." Rosa hated favors. In fact, so did most hobbits. "You see," He said. "I'm beginning to run low on pipeweed. And seeing as it's a most lovely day at the peak of the season, I was going to make a trek south a ways and see about harvesting some." He looked contemplatively towards the wilderness. "Thought you might be interested. Besides, it's generally considered a bad idea to venture off into the woods all alone."
The hobbit tried desperately not to be interested. But as it happens, she was also running low on pipeweed. As well, it'd been a terribly long time since she'd enjoyed a good stroll on a lovely day. "Has anyone ever told you," she asked. "That you're really weird?" catnap made a hearty chuckle. "Not a day goes by." He said happily.
The pair made their way over paths built by nothing more than ample foot traffic through wooded backlands. "You know, I've never actually had the pipeweed of this region before." Said the wizard. Rosa shrugged. "Neither have I." catnap looked at her with confusion for the first time. Rosa thought that made him look very funny. "No it's just-" she said, giggling. "I brought a lot from home when I moved here."
"That's right," Said catnap. "I forgot you used to live up in Hobbiton. Silly me, really. All the baggins are from there." He looked at his partner. She'd somewhat clammed up at the mention of her old home. "What happened?" He asked. Normally she'd have politely declined further comment, but somehow she felt she could open up to him.
"It was just-" She said, shakily. "They didn't understand me." "And I don't think I'm a particularly difficult hobbit to understand." Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. Catnap swiftly produced a handkerchief and handed it over. "Which is fine, really. I know it's not my fault if people don't understand me. But after my mom died I just-" She let out a sigh as she wiped her entire face in the massive hanky. "I just didn't see the point in staying anymore."
Catnap put a hand on her shoulder. "Consider this one step closer to putting it all behind you." He said. That didn't very much cheer her up, but she appreciated the thought. Soon however, she was very much cheered up as the brush gave way to a massive field of nothing but tall stalks of mature pipeweed.
The pair stood on a hill at the edge of the field. A most beautifully untouched crop sprawled across the landscape before them. "I'll tell you what" said catnap. "Let none say hobbits can't grow plants." Truly it was a magnificent sight. Even to the wizard, immortal and exceedingly well travelled and read, it was something to behold.
Soon, the pair were amongst the great crop, stuffing as much as they could carry into their sacks. The wizard, seeming to become excited, began to move quicker through the stalks. At first, in her own excitement Rosa barely noticed. But soon she was struggling to keep up with him. His green attire only made it harder to see where he went every time he disappeared behind the stalks.
"Catnap, slow down!" She called. He zig zagged and spiralled and crossed and darted this way and that through the field. "What are you doing? Hey!" Soon she'd lost him. She turned about in all directions for any sign of the wizard amongst the plants. "Catnap?" She yelled. Nothing. A penetrating silence filled the air around her.
"That low-down, good for nothing-" Rosa fumed in place. This was how it always went for her. Every time she'd placed her trust in someone for even a moment it'd come back to make sure she regret it. Never again. If she made it out alive she swore she'd never trust another living soul as long as she lived.
She decided to try and do something about that first part (the whole "making it out alive" thing seemed very important at the moment) And simply picked a direction to start walking in. Of course, as happens to Baggins she luckily picked the direction that took her right out at the edge of the field where catnap had left her. But it wasn't the same edge they'd strolled into.
As it happened, she'd actually came out the westernmost edge of the field. She couldn't exactly tell though, because the forestation around the westernmost edge of the field is particularly dense and sky-covering. She was all of a sudden overcome with a terrible anxiety the likes of which she had never known. All at once she was considering that she had been abandoned and left god knows where in the middle of the woods, alone. But before she could break down, she was snapped back to her senses by the sudden SNAP!
Hildigrim was starting to rethink carving. He'd taken it up as a trade a few years back and ever since was almost constantly inundated with requests to carve random trinkets for hobbits all over the shire. Some of them seemed to go out of their way to make his life troublesome. Many asked for patterns and engravings far and away beyond anything he knew you could carve. Some of them were supposed to "withstand great heat" or "hold up in battle".
The particular contractor he'd received an unsigned letter from on this occasion had asked him to use 'specifically beechwood' Which only grew, to his knowledge, a number of miles south in the backwood. Completely ridiculous. What manner of drama hobbits would cook up over such little things as what material their pipe is composed of made Hildigrim scoff.
Soon though, he spied a beech tree just before a clearing. "Finally!" He thought to himself. "What a walk this is. And to think it's for a material I'd never make a pipe out of. Strange, strange fellow must've requested it." He spied a branch with good shape and a perfect amount of material for the shaping of a pipe. He paused for a moment to consider how perfect of a branch it was. Of course, not being particularly bright, he couldn't come up with any questions to ask about it that sounded interesting.
SNAP! The branch had taken a bit more force to snap than Hildigrim expected, and he found himself on his back in the clearing. He groaned as he looked up to see (upside down in his pov) The beautiful lass who'd called at the Old Took's the day before. "Oh god" He thought. "I've died!"
Rosa was altogether bewildered as she could barely stand, yet still overcome with a sense of relief as though a great injury had suddenly slammed itself shut. Before long she had processed what took place before her, and darted to the carver's side. "Heavens, are you alright?" She said. "Mmph." He groaned. "Are you a valar?"
She wasn't ready for that. Her face turned bright red and she started to giggle compulsively. "No," She said. "I don't think you're in Valinor just yet." Soon, Hildigrim had come to his senses and frantically got up, brushing the dust off his green overcoat. He was flustered and blushing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I was-" "It's okay," Rosa told him. "I saw you tumble on out of that tree over there. Are you okay?"
"Ah it's nothing for the likes of me" He replied, puffing his chest out a little. "What are you doing here?" He asked. "I followed an annoying little wizard out here and he disappeared!" She replied angrily. "Hoho!" laughed Hildigrim. "You let that crackpot give you the runaround? I had him made for a fraud a mile off." He said proudly. "You must be really very smart, then." Rosa said sarcastically. "You don't happen to know the way back to town, do you?" She asked. "Of course, m'lady." He said with a bow. "Follow me."
As the hobbits made their way thru the brush, Rosa thought about the wizard. Was this his plan all along? Surely not. All of a sudden a question that'd escaped her a moment ago returned to the forefront of her mind. "You met catnap?" Hildigrim looked at her dubiously. "Have I met who?" Her brow furrowed. "Urgh. Catnap, the wandering green wizard!" He laughed. "Oh, is that what the crackpot calls himself?"
Rosa was going to explain to him all the ways in which the green wizard was very much as he claimed to be, but soon neither of the hobbits had him on their minds. That is because, as they'd been speaking, something else had been watching. And though neither of them saw it, hobbits have strong instincts.
"Get down!" Yelled the Took. He tackled the maiden to the grass as a great wolf came bounding overtop of them. Hildigrim scrambled to his feet. He picked up the branch and put himself between the wolf and the woman. "Go on, run back to town!" he said. The wolf started to circle. Rosa crawled backwards and ran off.
The wolf started to growl at the lone hobbit. "You think you scare me?!" He cried. The wolf snapped at him. He jumped back and whimpered a little. Soon the wolf was charging. Oft underestimated, the hobbit was able to punish it with a powerful SMACK! From the branch.
Shaken, but not stirred, the agitated wolf began growling fiercely as it approached the warrior. He gulped as he realized his branch would not be enough to save him. Suddenly, a baseball-sized rock whizzed out of the forest and pelted the wolf in the eye. The noise it made in response was truly horrifying. A guttural, rage-filled wail filled the nearby forest as the wolf turned towards the offense.
Hildigrim looked to see Rosa standing off the path a ways, holding a bundle of baseball-sized rocks. She started to throw more and more as the wolf started to run after her instead. As it reached the friendly hobbit, it was suddenly tackled from behind by her handsome hero. The two hobbits attacked the beast with stick and stone, all the while yelling hurtful things, just in case.
Soon, the wolf was too tired to fight any longer, and upon finding a window, ran scared from the two little hobbits. They sat huffing and puffing together, just off the path. "Are you alright?" Rosa asked. "You came back for me." Said he. They looked at each other. Despite that they were drenched in sweat and mud and had tangled hair and torn clothes, they had never quite realized how good the other looked to them.
"Would you maybe," Hildigrim said through huffing breaths. "Wanna go out for a drink sometime?" Rosa laid down on her back. "Maybe." She said. "Maybe."
Sometime later, well after a couple long baths and extra suppers, the much revitalized pair of hobbits sat together merrily in the Dancing Falcon. Isembold and Gorbradoc were arguing in the corner, and Hildigrim could read the clock. Informing Rosa of this, she agreed that another round of drinks were probably a good idea.
As the blondie made it to the crowded bar, a familiar green cloak and silken hat took a seat across from the lass. "You're late." She said. Catnap scratched his chin innocently. "Yeah I guess so, huh?" He said. "Still, it seems like you got along pretty well without me." They looked up at the bar and saw Hildigrim waving his arm wildly at the bartender. "Yeah, I guess we did." She giggled.
"Where did you go?" She wondered. "Surely, Rosa Baggins, you don't think you're the only hobbit for whom I'm making trouble?" He replied with a wink and a grin. Just then, the handsome one returned with three flagons. "Here you go, 'magic man'" He said as he placed one in front of catnap.
Catnap chuckled awkwardly. "Oh I don't drink." The hobbits went wide-eyed. The pub hushed. The music stopped. He looked up to realize the entire patronage of the Dancing Falcon was staring at him. "What?"
As he rushed out of the building, he spied a poster with a crude drawing of himself, labelled 'KATNAP - WANDERING GREEN TROUBLEMAKER' and snatched it off the wall. "Wandering green troublemaker!" He thought angrily. "Troublemaker!" He ducked an airborne flagon as he ran off into the night.
"What a strange man." Hildigrim said as he poured the third flagon into his own. "But I don't think he'll be turning up around these parts any time soon." He started to empty the flagon down his throat. Rosa giggled. "I hope he will." The blonde hobbit looked at her with visible confusion, but did not stop drinking.
"I mean," Said she, "He's very strange, no doubt. But I think strange can be fun sometimes." Her date agreed. He'd, in fact, had a great deal of fun at (apparently) the crackpot's expense. He still didn't believe the man was a wizard. Yet that did not stop him and Rosa from living, to the best of my knowledge, happily ever after, until the end of their days.