Upon the Grass Untroubling by StarSpray

Upon the Grass Untroubling

Read Upon the Grass Untroubling

Shire Reckoning
100

 

After several rather miserable days of rain, Faramund Took was very glad to wake up to the sun rising into a cloudless sky. The breeze was brisk, and though everything was still damp, the day promised to be unusually warm for spring. That would dry everything out quickly enough—and if the breeze kept up, Faramund thought, it would be a very nice day for walking.

His roaming had taken him south and east, skirting past the Barrow Downs. He was rather curious about them, but there were evil tales that came out of them, and he wasn't curious enough to disturb whatever lingered in the misty hollows between the downs, or in the darkness of the barrows.

So Faramund had gone on until he came to the crossroads just outside of Bree, and turned south, passing between the Barrow Downs and the South Downs, which were his destination. Now as the sun climbed higher into the bright blue sky he left the Road and sighed in contentment as his feet sank into soft green grass and clover that was not quite ready to bloom yet. Cardolan was a lovely land, though a desolate place ever since the Great Plague had swept through the land some sixty years before.

He climbed to the top of the nearest hill; when he began he would have sworn that there was no one else atop it, yet when he reached the summit he discovered a slender figure there dancing through the clover, and singing a wordless song. She was barefoot, with very pale skin and hair so fair that it was almost white; she was clad in blue, the fabric almost sheer as it floated around her in the breeze. Faramund halted, nearly tripping over a tussock, and found himself staring, and thinking that he had never seen someone so lovely.

She turned and saw him, but did not seem surprised. Perhaps she had glimpsed him coming up the hill. “Well met, traveler!” she said, her voice like bells chiming and like leaves in the wind and raindrops on still water, all rolled together. “It is a beautiful day; won’t you dance with me?”

It was impossible to refuse. Faramund dropped his things and sprang forward to join her, and they spun and laughed and she sang her high wordless song again, and Faramund felt so light that he half expected the breeze to pick him up and sweep him away, far over the fields and downs, and if it had he would not have cared at all.

At last he couldn ’t dance any more, and fell, laughing and breathless, onto the grass. The lady sank down beside him, skirts billowing gently around her. Her hair seemed to float about her head, caught up in the breeze. Faramund sat up. “I am Faramund Took,” he said, “at your service. What is your name?”

She seemed to think about it for a moment. “I have had many names,” she said. “But the Elves have called me Súlindiel, and I like the sound of it best.”

“Súlindiel,” Faramund repeated. “That’s very pretty.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Súlindiel said. “Where do you hail from, Faramund Took?”

“From the Shire, out beyond the Brandywine there.” This began a much longer conversation about the geography of the Shire and lands surrounding it, as, while she seemed to know all the lands well, Súlindiel did not know any of the proper names for either the realms of the Sea Kings, or of the Hobbits, or even of the most prominent landmarks. The only river whose name she knew with certainty was the Withywindle, because she had a kinswoman, “you might call her a cousin,” who lived beside it.

Before Faramund knew it, evening was setting in. He made his camp, and S úlindiel joined him; they made a small fire and he shared his food, and they continued talking long into the night.

The next morning it seemed natural to continue traveling together. They visited Bree, and passed on to the north to catch a glimpse of the towers of Fornost in the distance. By then Faramund thought it was time to be getting on home—and by then he and S úlindiel had an understanding, so back to the Shire and to Tuckborough she went with him.

Rumors raced before them as soon as they crossed the Brandywine, and when they finally reached Faramund ’s home, he found his family in a state of alarm. “There you are!” his mother exclaimed as he and Súlindiel came up the lane. She abandoned her laundry and hurried over to embrace him. “We’ve been hearing all sorts of strange things about you! That you’ve taken a fairy wife, and that you’re going to leave us and sail away off to Faerie over the Sea—”

“I haven’t taken a wife yet,” said Faramund, “but when I do we aren’t going to sail away anywhere.”

“I do love the Sea, though,” Súlindiel said dreamily. “The breezes off the water are lovely, especially in summer.”

“Mama, this is Súlindiel,” Faramund said, ignoring his mother’s shocked expression. “Súlindiel, this is my mother, Daisy. Where’s Dad, Mama?”

“Off in Michel Delving. Some new messages came from the King in Fornost and he went to talk them over with everyone. Faramund, are you planning to take a fairy wife?”

“I’m planning to marry Súlindiel,” said Faramund, and turned to her. “Would you call yourself a fairy?”

She laughed, merry as spring breezes in the flowers. “You may if you wish! I call myself only myself.”

Faramund and S úlindiel caused an even greater stir when they married that Midsummer than when Faramund had first brought her home. In Hobbiton and elsewhere there were murmurs of disapproval and many matronly shakes of the head, but that didn’t stop anyone from attending the celebrations, where Súlindiel dazzled them with her singing and dancing, and where in spite of even the stuffiest hobbit’s intentions, everyone had a wonderful time.

Things settled down after that. It was not in S úlindiel’s nature to linger anywhere for very long, but she and Faramund had an understanding—and she always came back from wherever the winds took her.

His sisters took more after their staid Sackville mother than he did, and were sometimes appalled by what they called S úlindiel’s “flightiness”. “Why, you’re doing half the raising of your children all by yourself!” said Diamond.

Faramund, watching his young Rowan toddle about the garden, while Snowdrop bounced on his knee, only laughed. “Hardly! Not with you and Ruby here to watch over my shoulder. One might think you didn’t each have your own families to look after.”

“At least my boys don’t try to climb trees every chance they get,” said Diamond primly. “When is Súlindiel coming back this time?”

“Whenever the winds change.” Faramund lowered Snowdrop to the grass as she began to squirm. He added, just to see Diamond’s scandalized face, “Just wait until the children are old enough to go adventuring with us!”