Today was a beautiful day out and, smiling cheerfully to herself, Immalaine went out to tend her fields. Now, to some the act of growing crops and harvesting them was a tedious chore at best. To her however, it was a chance to relax, contemplate and be at peace. On this particular day, she was doing a bit of all three.
The mindless work of digging for potatoes left Immalaine' with ample opportunity to contemplate Rastellion's problems with his own father. Having grown up on a farm near Trestlebridge, they were driven out of it when orcs attacked. His father, however, was the stubborn sort and refused to leave the area. Rastellion had spent the past few weeks in Bree, trying to get the deed to the family farm settled so that his father could find another plot of land out that way to start over. Repeatedly, Rastellion had asked him to reconsider and come towards Bree to live, but the old man was having none of it despite the fact that he'd lost a leg to the attack.
Biting her lip as she slowly worked the next field, she pondered this; turning it over in her mind as she looked for a potential solution that would work in everyone's favor. She paused for a moment, looking over the town of Bree and sighed. It seemed there was no easy answer.
Lost in her thoughts, and her farming, she didn't see Rastellion approach until he spoke up in greeting. Looking up, she smiled at him and waved. He sat with her for a spell, watching her tend her crops as they caught up on their day. She looked down, pleased with the produce she had gathered and decided she should go ahead and get them ready for sale or cooking. It pleased her to no end that she was so adept at farming, as one day she hoped to have a small farm of her own .... Oh! she thought, a seed of a plan forming in her mind. Working out the logistics, she carried her basket of produce down to the tables to sort out and make ready, as Rastellion continued to regale her with a rather humorous tale.
"I've been thinkin'," she started, as she carefully inspected the dirt covered spuds for damage. For several moments she was quiet as she concentrated.
"Thinkin'?" Rastellion replied, prompting her to continue.
"Aye, thinkin'. 'Bout how yer havin' all these problems wit' yer Pa not wantin' to come out to Bree, and him wantin' t'stay near Trestlebridge."
Rastellion nodded his head, sighing heavily as he thought about his situation. "He's as stubborn as ever. I spoke to my uncle about it, and he said he would speak to my Pa and see if he couldn't change his mind. But," he added, "I ain't holdin' out much hope."
Nodding at this, Immalaine continued, "Well, I were thinkin' 'bout it and yer Pa want's someone who can tend a field, but ye want t'stay near Bree. So, why not send me in yer place?"
Rastellion reached up, scratching his head as he shook it. "Bad 'nough I have to worry about my Pa up there, with the orcs and all. I'll not send you out that way too. I'd never get any sleep worrying."
"But t'is a good solution, and I'm the one offerin' t'go. Ye could stay here in Bree, and yer Pa would have someone what could farm fer him. Besides," she added, "if anything were t'happen to me, there'd not be many people that'd miss me."
"Don't say that," he said, frowning at that statement. "I'd miss you. Besides, I'd just as soon wait and see if my uncle can talk sense into my Pa, as unlikely as that seems."
Immalaine looked over the produce, now cleaned and ready to store for cooking, a nod of satisfaction. Picking up the basket, she turned to Rastellion. "Well, the offer stands, should it come to him stayin' there." She saw Rastellion shake his head again, and grinned at him, offering to buy him a drink at the tavern as they headed to the Pony.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
((Note – This was the first time I actually used parts of Immalaine and Rastellion's rp in the creation of a story. While it's not the full transcript – which is lost to time – the words of Rastellion are his own.))
