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Old 04-22-2006, 01:26 PM   #259
Undómë
Shade of Carn Dûm
 
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Join Date: Mar 2005
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Undómë has just left Hobbiton.
Away -- Wistan's farm - Dunstede


Rose saw to the topping of everyone’s mug; then, sat down herself, cradling her own in her hands. She sipped now and then, more to be sociable than because of thirst, her eyes roving about the little gathering.

Her mother sat at the head of the assemblage; much like a little queen, she thought, a light smile curving her lips. Mayda and Ardith sat one to either side of her, her ladies in waiting. They took in every word, and every nuance, too, she thought of how Thornden delivered his answers. There were so few visitors from beyond their farm that such a conversation would be savored for some time; told and retold in all its detail.

She wondered sometimes if her mother and sisters in law might have been happier had they lived closer by a bigger town. Rose could just imagine a weekly trip in to the marketplace, all nicely dressed, their baskets swinging from their hands. And not for that they could buy, really, but for the gossip and the news of other people’s lives. Oh, she loved them dearly, she chuckled to herself . . . but their ways were not hers. More to her liking was the company of her bees and their day to day business; or the goats and sheep as they vied for position and chatted in their own ways among themselves; the chickens, too, now, they were as much the busybodies as she needed; and even the pigs, those self satisfied beings who lived for their next meal and a good roll in the mud.

By the time she had finished her ruminations, the conversation had passed through a discussion of the weather, the crops and which fields they planned to use this year for oats while the others be planted with a resting crop for the soil, horse beans, most likely; one they’d plow under the next planting season to feed the land. Rose glanced at Thornden, wondering how much this detail might intrigue him, or was he one who could easily school his features to reflect interest. It mattered not, as long as her mother enjoyed her little time of hospitality and holding court.

A shift in subject was adroitly brought about, preceded by a refreshing of the mugs and another round of sweets.

‘And you, Master Thornden,’ began her mother, an inviting smile, an encouraging smile, on her face. ‘It seems that we’ll be seeing you now as you make your rounds of the new lord’s tenants. What might you tell us of yourself? Is your father’s family from Edoras? We have a number of friends we see there once or twice a year . . . might we know them?’

Mayda, all pretty smiles, continued Cwen’s line of inquiry. ‘And your goodwife, Master Thornden, will we meet her at Lord Eodwine’s Hall when we come to town? How proud she must be that her husband has gotten such a position! I know I would be were I in her place.’ She colored prettily, her eyes, gone wide for a moment. ‘Oh, here I’ve gone and got you married and perhaps that’s not so. Still, a young man as handsome as you must at least have someone for whom he is intended.’ She laughed a little as if to make it but a lightly given observation.

Rose choked on her swallow of tea at this last sentence. So this is what they were about! ‘Sorry!’ she gasped, noting the quick, arch look on Ardith’s face. ‘Please, carry on. I’m quite recovered now,’ she went on, clearing her throat of the wayward liquid.

And you’ll be sorry, too . . . she thought to herself as she glanced at Thornden quickly and then away. Especially sorry if they find you “available”!

Poor man! He looked, to her eyes, ever so much the fox among the hounds . . .
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