March of the Mumakling
See Chapter 1 here.
See Chapter 2 here.
See Chapter 3 here.
See Chapter 4 here.
See Chapter 5 here.
Chapter 6. Better Than Lembas: Bingo Bolger-Baggins
[All the usual disclaimers apply. Some of the characters and places mentioned herein are based on those of J.R.R. Tolkien, though I hardly think he'd want them back when I'm finished with them, and as Bingo reminds me, he wasn't even wanted in the first place. Many images here are inspired by Jackson/Walsh/Boyen's film adaptation of LotR. This journal at times contains same-sex pairings, multiple-sex pairings, and whatever gender combinations suit the storyline, and slides between earnest romance and ironic raunch, ironic romance and earnest raunch, at the touch of a toggle switch. There's no money in this, so don't even think it. I bet every kid would like to get paid for playing dolls, but life's tough. Credit lavendertook, if you will, because the following text and pictures are nobody else's damn fault, but my own.]
Saffron and I do seem to have the knack of this riding business now. She's been taking us on a southwesterly route; I've seen no trace of Elf or Elven habitations as we've made our way through the wilds of Eldamar, but the birdsong has been a true delight.
I suppose we've been riding for hours now with no further mishaps to trouble us, though it must be high time for nuncheons, or even noonsies. How about the grassy stream bank ahead for a short rest, my friend? It looks like a promising spot for mushrooms, don't you think?
*stretch, yawn* Oh, I surely needed to dismount, as my joints feel most creaky. What a lovely glade this is! Saffron, dear, your kin are known for their memory. Would you kindly remember the way to this place? I'd love to take Samwise here one day. He'd marvel at its beauty. A delightful spot for a picnic, at the very least.
Ah! *startles, while a shiver runs up his spine* It's only a fox. I'm not all together sure why they frighten me. Such wonderful creatures, really. It's no wonder they are to be found in these lands as well.
"A hobbit?" wondered the fox. "Here? I never thought I'd see a hobbit in these lands. Most queer indeed! Now I have a tale to tell the others!" *scampers off*
And look at this--roseberries! Wonderful roseberries! Oh! The roseberry is a most delectable fruit. The flesh is less crisp than an apple, more like a peach, even, but less runny with juice--sort of like a firm jam. A delightful texture. And the flavour and aroma is unmistakably the purest, richest rose.
Oh, I am in luck; they're all ripe! This fruit is incredibly filling and energizing--better than lembas, really. Cram's not even in the same farthing. But it has such a rich flavour, it fills up all the corners and you'll be satisfied still without supper, tea, or dinner, even. And that's saying an awful lot. They grow only here in Aman.
Some of the Eldar say this is due to the virture of the soil, others say it is due to the light of the Trees, but roseberry bushes simply wouldn't take root in Middle-earth, no matter how carefully the Noldor tended them when they brought them hence. Galadriel says that for her, cartelyave is the taste of Elvenhome.
Cartelyave is Quendian for roseberry, well, rosefruit, really. Though dear Bilbo likes to call them Aman Apples. And since there is a faction of the Eldar now who
*munch* Mmmm, they're so tasty. *munch* The murmur of the waterfall makes this such a peaceful place. *munch* It's the light here in Eldamar, with the mingling of Galathilion, Celeborn, Sun, and Moon. *munch* There's a quality to the colors you don't quite find in Middle-earth, excepting Lothlorien
And because of that mingling from varied directions, there are vales where it is summer all year, while in the next vale the leaves are falling and the full range of seasons march in parade. The variety in close proximity is wondrous here. *munch* But as for this quiet glade, I could sit here for ages, even without book, pen, and paper.
But I suppose it's time we were on our way, so onward we go. I'm anxious to find out where Saffron is leading us. So, dear Saffron, lead on, but don't forget this spot, my friend. I can't wait to describe to Bilbo all that I've seen thus far. He'll want to know everything.
And perhaps for our next "Quarter"--that's what we call our gatherings when Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, and Celebrian sup with us every quarter moon--perhaps then I'll have a good tale all my dear friends will enjoy. But for now, Saffron leads on, and I do not know where this tale shall end . . .
Click on any picture for enbiggenment.
To be continued . . . here.