Post by fellrod on Jun 19, 2010 17:46:01 GMT -5
The thirteenth day of Winterfilth in the year 1398, by Shire-reckoning, was an averagely fine day in the Bridgefields, a quite land conveniently nestled between the Brandywine River to the east and Hobbiton to the west. On that day hobbits all through the area were even busier than average with the gathering of crops, the bailing of hay, preparing and canning preserves, jams, jellies and all manner of consumables, and of course, with the brewing of ale. Fall was in the air and everyone knew that soon they would have rest and there was the Fall Festival in Bywater to look forward to.
On one particular farm there was even more activity than usual. Marlissa Widefoot was expecting her fourth child and it looked like this would be the big day. Her husband, Barston Widefoot, a well respected farmer and brewer of justly deserved local renown, had called for the midwife who arrived not a second too late, and conveniently between Second Breakfast and Elevenses.
And so came into the world Tessra Widefoot, who announced her arrival loudly and with gusty persistence. Later her parents would often comment that they hadn’t slept that whole winter, nor well into the spring for the crying of young Tess, who only seemed to stop when she was suckling. This, Marlissa shared with some of her women friends, was particularly unpleasant as the lass had been born with a full set of teeth. Fortunately for her, this enabled Tess to begin taking solid foods long before her first birthday, and she would often go for at least a short while after feeding without crying.
To make certain that everything was done according to proper custom; Barston dispatched his eldest boy, Barstonson, mounted on one of the family’s two ponies, to report the birth for recording in the official records kept in Michel Delving. And, out of appropriate respect, a report was also delivered to the Thain in Tuckborough, since Marlissa was born a Took. Later, some would point to this relationship nodding and saying Tessra was “more than half a Took.” And this was quite true since all agreed that Marlissa was Took through and through, and Tooks turned up as often as any other single family in the Widefoot family tree, which Barston had framed and hung in the sitting room, and to which Tessra was duly added.
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As time passed young Tess grew into a stout and cheerful lass, always somewhat tall for her age, thus showing the Fallowhide in her linage, and sporting red hair, freckles and feet that did the family name proper justice being both wide and quite hairy for a lass even at a young age.
Barston did his best to teach young Tess the ins and outs of the family farm and of the art of brewing ales. This, of course, included an understanding of the relationships of various grains and the careful roasting thereof prior to the actual brewing process. In addition, he shared his secrets to nurturing the small Hop field close behind the house and the introduction of those herbs to the brew at the proper moment. However, Barston was frustrated that, though Tess learned these things readily, she seemed to have less interest in them than his three sons did and tended to wander off whenever an assigned task was complete, and sometimes even when it wasn’t.
Barston’s frustration, however, was nothing compared to that of Marlissa. In her youth she had been considered one of the best cooks to come out of the Great Smials in some years, and when, after bearing three sons, her fourth child was a girl she had been very pleased. Unfortunately, young Tess seemed to care no more for the art of cooking than that of brewing, and to have even less natural aptitude for the task.
And as Tessra grew into her teens Marlissa’s concerns grew even greater. Though Tess was as pretty a young lass as could be hoped for, and though she had an ample stream of young lads calling on her, she showed no inclination to select a ‘favorite’ nor to think of marriage and starting a family of her own. In fact, as time went by, she seemed to be going in completely the wrong direction for a proper young hobbit lass.
When Tess was fifteen she began spending as much time as she could manage with her uncle, Thaddeus Took, a hunter and trapper who lived not too far outside Bywater. Thaddeus, known to all as Thad, particularly those who often frequented the Green Dragon Inn, was less than the picture of a respectable hobbit and was known to meet with both Dwarves and Elves wandering the woodlands. It was also widely suspected that some of his longer ‘hunting’ trips involved actual adventures of the sort respectable folk would naturally go to great lengths to avoid. And by the time she was seventeen Tess was, herself, a regular in the Green Dragon, and though she enjoyed dancing with the ample supply of lads from the Bywater area, her real interest was in the stories of far places and strange things that could often be heard there.
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In one particular way, Tess was rather different from most hobbits, and that was in the matter of her feet. Like most, the soles of her feet soon became sufficiently tough that the occasional sharp stick or stone was of little concern. However, she had a particular aversion to stepping on, and in, things that one often found when wandering the woods. On a number of occasions, to her uncle’s dismay, game that they were stalking was frightened away by one of Tessra’s outbursts upon feeling a large beetle or night crawler crunch under her feet.
To this was added her fear of snakes, and it finally brought Thaddeus to take her on her first trip to Breeland. There, not far outside the town of Bree, was the little village known as Staddle. And in Staddle Thad knew an old hobbit named Walt Lowbanks who was a cobbler, a profession not commonly practiced among hobbits, and which Walt primarily pursued for the benefit of the Big Folk, as the local hobbits called the Men who also lived in the area.
Old Walt listened to their story nodding and puffing on a stubby little pipe and then carefully measured Tess’s feet before telling them it would take him a day or so to make up her new boots. They spent the time exploring Bree.
Tess had never before seen the homes of Men and to her eyes the stonework was harsh and unattractive, but it was the sheer size of the buildings and the town as a whole that was most impressive. Her favorite place in all of Bree was the Prancing Pony where the worthy Inn Keeper, Mr. Barliman Butterbur by name, made them feel welcome and where Tess spent that evening and the entire next day in near ecstasy listening to the tales of both the locals and those travelers who were taking their ease before continuing their journeys.
When they returned at last to Mr. Lowbanks’ shop he had a fine pair of boots prepared. They had stout uppers that reached well up Tess’s calf and appeared substantial enough to turn the bite of even a large snake. The soles were substantial, but not so heavy as to prevent her from moving quietly through the woods. And best of all, the fit was perfect and they were comfortable from the first moment she buckled them on.
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Things finally came to a head with her parents during Tessra’s eighteenth year, that being the spring of 1417 by Shire reckoning or 3017 as accounted by Men and Elves. It was then that it became known that she had skipped the Spring Festival in favor of a hunting trip that was rumored to have included several days in the Old Forest. There were harsh words on both sides with her parents insisting that it was time for her to ‘settle down’ and focus on finding a husband before all the best lads were spoken for. For her part, Tessra accused her parents of meddling and interfering with her life. In the end Tessra stormed out and left the Widefoot farm with a bulging pack and her hunting bow slung over her shoulder and only the vaguest idea what she was going to do next.
A few days later, however, much to her parent’s consternation, word reached Budgeford that Tessra had joined the Bounders and had been seen passing on the Stock road with the signature green hat and feather proudly displayed.
Now, it wasn’t unheard of for young people to join the Bounders before they were even into their tweens, nor were the Bounders a strictly male organization, but Tess was, nonetheless, rather unique. However, over the past year or so pressure on the Bounders had increased considerably. More and more strangers of an increasingly unsavory nature were starting to pass through the Shire. Wolves were threatening livestock in many areas. And there were even reports of goblins being seen away north past Scary. With all of these pressures there was little surprise that a skilled huntress was gladly added to their ranks with few if any questions.
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For more than a year Tessra was fairly content with her life, though as time passed she felt more and more as though she were waiting for something; something that she couldn’t put into words, even in her own mind. But the life of a Bounder was full of wandering about the Shire, hunting wolves one day, chasing loose pigs another, and spying on encampments of strange travelers to avert brigandry.
So it was that as she was serving her second year with the Bounders she earned her second feather as an honorary sheriff. And still the feeling of waiting and anticipation grew, perhaps fueled by other events. Her uncle Thad was missing for one thing. He had told her he was going to Bree, a relatively safe trip that she had now made with him several times. But that had been in July, and it was now getting well into September and nobody had seen any sign of him. And all of Hobbiton and Bywater were astir because Frodo Baggins, the heir of the old Bilbo Baggins, had sold Bag End, arguably the finest home in all the Shire, to his generally detested relatives the Sackville-Baggins’.
It was against this backdrop that she trudged along the Stock road, not very far past the turnoff for Budgeford. She had chosen to press on toward Stock even though the sun had set several hours previous; partly because she still avoided her parents, but mostly because the feeling of tension and waiting was gnawing at her more than usual. It was the night of September 25.
As she trudged along she heard the sound of heavy hooves behind her and coming on fast. She barely had time to turn and step aside as a black horse and rider raced by, and in its wake she felt a chill run through her and a senseless fear she really didn’t understand, but as soon as she regained her composure somewhat she hurried on, bow in hand.
When she finally reached Stock the entire village seemed to be awake and out in the road, though the hour was quite late by then. Everyone was abuzz with talk of the rider who had passed her and of another that had come up from the Marish in the south. Dogs were still barking and terrified Bounders reported the riders had crossed the Brandywine toward Buckland.
As the sun came up the next morning Tessra stood looking at the Brandywine Bridge and felt a strange foreboding; things were changing that went far beyond her personal troubles. But suddenly she realized that she no longer felt the sense of waiting nagging at the corners of her mind. Things were happening in the world that she wanted to understand and to be a part of. Slinging her pack she set off at a brisk pace; perhaps someone in Bree would know what was happening.
On one particular farm there was even more activity than usual. Marlissa Widefoot was expecting her fourth child and it looked like this would be the big day. Her husband, Barston Widefoot, a well respected farmer and brewer of justly deserved local renown, had called for the midwife who arrived not a second too late, and conveniently between Second Breakfast and Elevenses.
And so came into the world Tessra Widefoot, who announced her arrival loudly and with gusty persistence. Later her parents would often comment that they hadn’t slept that whole winter, nor well into the spring for the crying of young Tess, who only seemed to stop when she was suckling. This, Marlissa shared with some of her women friends, was particularly unpleasant as the lass had been born with a full set of teeth. Fortunately for her, this enabled Tess to begin taking solid foods long before her first birthday, and she would often go for at least a short while after feeding without crying.
To make certain that everything was done according to proper custom; Barston dispatched his eldest boy, Barstonson, mounted on one of the family’s two ponies, to report the birth for recording in the official records kept in Michel Delving. And, out of appropriate respect, a report was also delivered to the Thain in Tuckborough, since Marlissa was born a Took. Later, some would point to this relationship nodding and saying Tessra was “more than half a Took.” And this was quite true since all agreed that Marlissa was Took through and through, and Tooks turned up as often as any other single family in the Widefoot family tree, which Barston had framed and hung in the sitting room, and to which Tessra was duly added.
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As time passed young Tess grew into a stout and cheerful lass, always somewhat tall for her age, thus showing the Fallowhide in her linage, and sporting red hair, freckles and feet that did the family name proper justice being both wide and quite hairy for a lass even at a young age.
Barston did his best to teach young Tess the ins and outs of the family farm and of the art of brewing ales. This, of course, included an understanding of the relationships of various grains and the careful roasting thereof prior to the actual brewing process. In addition, he shared his secrets to nurturing the small Hop field close behind the house and the introduction of those herbs to the brew at the proper moment. However, Barston was frustrated that, though Tess learned these things readily, she seemed to have less interest in them than his three sons did and tended to wander off whenever an assigned task was complete, and sometimes even when it wasn’t.
Barston’s frustration, however, was nothing compared to that of Marlissa. In her youth she had been considered one of the best cooks to come out of the Great Smials in some years, and when, after bearing three sons, her fourth child was a girl she had been very pleased. Unfortunately, young Tess seemed to care no more for the art of cooking than that of brewing, and to have even less natural aptitude for the task.
And as Tessra grew into her teens Marlissa’s concerns grew even greater. Though Tess was as pretty a young lass as could be hoped for, and though she had an ample stream of young lads calling on her, she showed no inclination to select a ‘favorite’ nor to think of marriage and starting a family of her own. In fact, as time went by, she seemed to be going in completely the wrong direction for a proper young hobbit lass.
When Tess was fifteen she began spending as much time as she could manage with her uncle, Thaddeus Took, a hunter and trapper who lived not too far outside Bywater. Thaddeus, known to all as Thad, particularly those who often frequented the Green Dragon Inn, was less than the picture of a respectable hobbit and was known to meet with both Dwarves and Elves wandering the woodlands. It was also widely suspected that some of his longer ‘hunting’ trips involved actual adventures of the sort respectable folk would naturally go to great lengths to avoid. And by the time she was seventeen Tess was, herself, a regular in the Green Dragon, and though she enjoyed dancing with the ample supply of lads from the Bywater area, her real interest was in the stories of far places and strange things that could often be heard there.
-----------------------------------------
In one particular way, Tess was rather different from most hobbits, and that was in the matter of her feet. Like most, the soles of her feet soon became sufficiently tough that the occasional sharp stick or stone was of little concern. However, she had a particular aversion to stepping on, and in, things that one often found when wandering the woods. On a number of occasions, to her uncle’s dismay, game that they were stalking was frightened away by one of Tessra’s outbursts upon feeling a large beetle or night crawler crunch under her feet.
To this was added her fear of snakes, and it finally brought Thaddeus to take her on her first trip to Breeland. There, not far outside the town of Bree, was the little village known as Staddle. And in Staddle Thad knew an old hobbit named Walt Lowbanks who was a cobbler, a profession not commonly practiced among hobbits, and which Walt primarily pursued for the benefit of the Big Folk, as the local hobbits called the Men who also lived in the area.
Old Walt listened to their story nodding and puffing on a stubby little pipe and then carefully measured Tess’s feet before telling them it would take him a day or so to make up her new boots. They spent the time exploring Bree.
Tess had never before seen the homes of Men and to her eyes the stonework was harsh and unattractive, but it was the sheer size of the buildings and the town as a whole that was most impressive. Her favorite place in all of Bree was the Prancing Pony where the worthy Inn Keeper, Mr. Barliman Butterbur by name, made them feel welcome and where Tess spent that evening and the entire next day in near ecstasy listening to the tales of both the locals and those travelers who were taking their ease before continuing their journeys.
When they returned at last to Mr. Lowbanks’ shop he had a fine pair of boots prepared. They had stout uppers that reached well up Tess’s calf and appeared substantial enough to turn the bite of even a large snake. The soles were substantial, but not so heavy as to prevent her from moving quietly through the woods. And best of all, the fit was perfect and they were comfortable from the first moment she buckled them on.
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Things finally came to a head with her parents during Tessra’s eighteenth year, that being the spring of 1417 by Shire reckoning or 3017 as accounted by Men and Elves. It was then that it became known that she had skipped the Spring Festival in favor of a hunting trip that was rumored to have included several days in the Old Forest. There were harsh words on both sides with her parents insisting that it was time for her to ‘settle down’ and focus on finding a husband before all the best lads were spoken for. For her part, Tessra accused her parents of meddling and interfering with her life. In the end Tessra stormed out and left the Widefoot farm with a bulging pack and her hunting bow slung over her shoulder and only the vaguest idea what she was going to do next.
A few days later, however, much to her parent’s consternation, word reached Budgeford that Tessra had joined the Bounders and had been seen passing on the Stock road with the signature green hat and feather proudly displayed.
Now, it wasn’t unheard of for young people to join the Bounders before they were even into their tweens, nor were the Bounders a strictly male organization, but Tess was, nonetheless, rather unique. However, over the past year or so pressure on the Bounders had increased considerably. More and more strangers of an increasingly unsavory nature were starting to pass through the Shire. Wolves were threatening livestock in many areas. And there were even reports of goblins being seen away north past Scary. With all of these pressures there was little surprise that a skilled huntress was gladly added to their ranks with few if any questions.
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For more than a year Tessra was fairly content with her life, though as time passed she felt more and more as though she were waiting for something; something that she couldn’t put into words, even in her own mind. But the life of a Bounder was full of wandering about the Shire, hunting wolves one day, chasing loose pigs another, and spying on encampments of strange travelers to avert brigandry.
So it was that as she was serving her second year with the Bounders she earned her second feather as an honorary sheriff. And still the feeling of waiting and anticipation grew, perhaps fueled by other events. Her uncle Thad was missing for one thing. He had told her he was going to Bree, a relatively safe trip that she had now made with him several times. But that had been in July, and it was now getting well into September and nobody had seen any sign of him. And all of Hobbiton and Bywater were astir because Frodo Baggins, the heir of the old Bilbo Baggins, had sold Bag End, arguably the finest home in all the Shire, to his generally detested relatives the Sackville-Baggins’.
It was against this backdrop that she trudged along the Stock road, not very far past the turnoff for Budgeford. She had chosen to press on toward Stock even though the sun had set several hours previous; partly because she still avoided her parents, but mostly because the feeling of tension and waiting was gnawing at her more than usual. It was the night of September 25.
As she trudged along she heard the sound of heavy hooves behind her and coming on fast. She barely had time to turn and step aside as a black horse and rider raced by, and in its wake she felt a chill run through her and a senseless fear she really didn’t understand, but as soon as she regained her composure somewhat she hurried on, bow in hand.
When she finally reached Stock the entire village seemed to be awake and out in the road, though the hour was quite late by then. Everyone was abuzz with talk of the rider who had passed her and of another that had come up from the Marish in the south. Dogs were still barking and terrified Bounders reported the riders had crossed the Brandywine toward Buckland.
As the sun came up the next morning Tessra stood looking at the Brandywine Bridge and felt a strange foreboding; things were changing that went far beyond her personal troubles. But suddenly she realized that she no longer felt the sense of waiting nagging at the corners of her mind. Things were happening in the world that she wanted to understand and to be a part of. Slinging her pack she set off at a brisk pace; perhaps someone in Bree would know what was happening.