Expedition: Swanfleet, Day Two
34 Tuilë in the Reckoning of Imladris
(10th of May in the Shire-Calendar)
Waymeet
As Naneth said last night, the ride from Foxden to Waymeet was much longer, but much more pleasant, and in some places, funnier!
We broke camp just after dawn, riding east and a little south with the sun in our eyes for a time. Our road took us through the hobbit hamlets of Nobottle and Needlehole, a longer way round the main towns of the Delvings. Naneth did this at Royzenberry’s suggestion, backed up by Gammer Goldflower, that it would not cause as much of a commotion by the “red Elf and her hooligans” brazenly marching through the streets.
At least, that was the idea. But as we proceeded through Nobottle, heads began turning and whispers began following as the expedition rode leisurely along. We switched up the order of our march, with Naneth leading with Auntie Berry by her side. Berry was so serious it was comical, as her head turned this way and that, staring down gawking hobbits and daring them to say anything boorish.
Needlehole was much the same, but with the added fun of a pack of hobbit-children walking behind us, giggling and calling out to see “elf-magic”! Naneth had a grin on her face the whole time and said little, but her expression changed to surprise when she was hailed by a Dwarf at the little market; Ulfar was his name, and he and Naneth appeared to be on good terms.
We stayed in Needlehole for a late breakfast and through an early lunch, with Ulfar and Naneth exchanging news and pleasantries. The best thing of all was that Ulfar had a large stock of cured pork and bacon, which we added to our provisions – much to the delight of Iyenue. At noon, we mounted up and continued on, passing through the Rushock Bog and turning south to Waymeet. As we went south along the road, the hobbits we met became more numerous, as well as more inhospitable. Travelers passing us on business of their own would look up first in wonder, then in disapproval.
It was past the supper hour when we arrived at Waymeet, and I knew that I was worn down by the long ride. Naneth bade Iyenue look again for a specific place that had a firepit and, once more, found a purple token coin in the ashes; we were following Ada’s trail. After a hearty meal, courtesy of the hobbits and Aunt Hartagil triumphantly brandishing a wineskin full of Celondim Red to share, we dozed off with Iyenue and Hartagil electing to share the watches through the night.
Just before dawn, I awoke and could not get back to sleep for the excitement of tomorrow. I built the fire up with Hartagil’s help and began to record this entry. As I wrote, I noticed she was standing over me, leaning to gaze at my pages!
“What are you doing, this is private!” I said rather loudly to which Hartagil shushed me.
“Lower your voice, you will wake the others. I was not aware you were chronicling this expedition, niece-of-mine, and I applaud you for it.”
“Well, it’s not a logbook, or anything, just my own journal – “
“Yes, I can see that: ‘Book of Secret Things’, is it?” She said as she sat next to me. “Worry not, for I am not about to pry – at least, not yet. You record your own thoughts, much like your mother did before you were born…”
“And did you ‘pry’ with her, also?” I don’t know why I blurted that out, but her face in the firelight lent a strange air, and I was surprised at her next words.
“No need for prying, when she shared her thoughts freely – with your father, at least, and that is how I know of her words. Perhaps you shall have better fortune at seeing those pages, where I cannot…” and she left it at that, turning to tend to the fire and leaving me with a mystery.
Naneth keeps a diary!?
