The first day’s ride on our Bridal Tour brought us to Hobbiton-Bywater, after we dallied for a time in Needlehole. My bride Seregrian and I had a reserved cottage as our destination, arranged by our very good friends and House members Lancogard and Appleciderblossom. I understand from them that the transaction required quite a bit of cajoling since the occupants would be we two Big Folks, as hobbits refer to Elves and Men collectively, and these local folk regard us with great reservation. My bride explained one reason for this; apparently the House had gathered quite a party to come find me in the Wildwood and made no effort to pass through the Shire as quietly as the hobbit residents may have liked. The rescue party earned the moniker “high-hipped hooligans”.
Being ever the diplomat and artist, my beloved was determined to salve the irritation the House may have exacerbated by uncasing Her Harp, recently gifted to Her at our wedding, and leading me into Bywater to attend Her as She played and sang for the Farmers Faire attendants. I would have to wait to inspect the kitchen and larder in our cottage, as I have learned that Her Ladyship’s leadership is both firm and wise.
Of course, I brought along Her “Mortals: A Case Study”, thinking that continuing to read it while witnessing Her enchant the crowd would be all the more rewarding. Her case study has become my constant companion, for as much as I desire to be physically close to Her, I would also understand Her as completely as a mortal could an Elf.
We strolled hand in hand down into Bywater, garnering sidelong glances and wide berths from the hobbit crowd that thickened as we approached the village center. It bustled around the booths selling all manner of farm bounty. At every opportunity, She led me into courteous nods, and if She curtsied I would bow. Thus did a path open before us to my beloved’s obvious destination, a frozen confection vendor frantically trying to keep up with urgent demands for the cold, sweet treat. My bride played at tuning Her harp, which it did not need, and as the crowd’s attention drew to Her she struck one loud, joyous chord followed closely by a lively jig. Conversations quieted, eyes widened, and large, hairy, naked feet found the beat and began to tap, then stomp, and soon many of the hobbits began to dance. She winked at me, and I bowed to Her, smiling, with Her book held before me. She gave me an approving nod and I retreated to a nearby shade tree. Thus, did I begin to read the next entry in Her study, “A Full Retreat”.
This entry picks up almost immediately from where the last one left off, with her entering the Pony where She saw me “sitting alone in the common room absently picking at a plate of bread and cheese.” I recall this moment quite vividly, for my most recent encounter with Her still filled my thoughts, my mind busy with pointlessly trying to resist heartfelt stirrings.
She relates a self-conscious concern about her appearance, as if She worried that I would find her unacceptable, which even then was impossible. My reaction to Her seemed to prove that. I dashed about finding Her acceptable food and drink, and we fell into conversation that was both delightful and infused with an urgency. We exchanged our views for having departed the Company, and then….
…” touched on the subject of why it seemed we each made the effort to contact the other. I simply told him (quite honestly) that I considered him different from the other members of that company, and worth the effort to keep in touch. Cutch explained, in quiet but serious tone, that he was compelled by something he hardly understood, that he needed to find me, or any news of me. I pressed him for a reason as to why this was so – the answer he gave was this:
‘Because if I were an Elf-lord, I would ask for your hand in marriage. ‘ “
I remember saying those words, as startling to hear them issue from me then as they are to read now, for here She has written them with flawless accuracy, with bolder nib and in larger and more beautiful strokes than the rest of the entry, and with different ink in the closest approximation possible of the blue I prefer in my garb.
My heart had called out, and Her writing answered, even if at first Her heart was reluctant. I had shocked Her, which seems unlikely to see from one so scholarly and powerful. Her confession of being unable to muster a response belies the ages long conflict between her cloistered heart and its deepest desire; to love and be loved. This conflict did not immediately resolve itself, for she promised she would return to me to speak of it more. I tried to reassure Her that, as I am no Elf-lord, She owed me no answer, but She seemed to not want to hear that. We embraced (the first time I experienced time stopping in Her arms), and she left, and penned the following as the conclusion of this case study entry….
…” Later, as I rode west towards Falathlorn in full retreat, that was what I asked myself: what was I thinking? What possible reply could I make to this? How do I extricate myself from this situation?
Do I even want to?”
Questions, alive in Her, not yet slain by the fatal edge of refusal, followed Her into the next case study entry: “Hour of the Wolf”.
Here, She compares the dilemma in her heart with the Anduin tale of the same name. It is an advisory for those who are kept awake by thoughts of unresolvable doubts and regrets, recommending strong drink to keep such a she-wolf, as She writes:
“…from your door. And then, one takes three smaller draughts – in case She left cubs on your doorstep.”
For Her, the turmoil has resulted from my declaration to Her, Her own knowledge of “the pestilence called the Firimar” (as she refers to we mortals), and the “tragic and bitter unions of Elves and Mortals”. Had I known at the time the discomfort it would have caused, I would have more reluctantly confessed my love for Her, but that was also a time before I knew what shameful hurt my ignorant fears would later cause Her. I offer a humble bow to my own she-wolf for lessons learned the hard way…
She relates the stories of several unions of Men and Elves, moths and flames, each tale swelling the turbulence within Her. Her dark thoughts sought relief from a third draught of the rather heady Duillond Gold wine, and she wondered how I might react to her discomfort, by perhaps laughing at Her or comforting Her. She compared us to the flame (Her love) and the moth (me) and wondered what the moth’s reaction would be if the candle were extinguished; would the moth mourn the dark or rejoice in the freedom. She closes by regarding the nature of Her powerful staff, Dondangol, which She sees as moth and the flame – joined. With a sigh of relief, She has found an answer.
Applause and cheer lift me up from my studies, and She stands before the hobbit crowd she has enthralled, the males captivated, the females a bit jealous, but all thoroughly entertained by her music. She offers them a gracious stage-worthy curtsey and turns to me, ignoring pleas for an encore, beaming at me and my dutiful examination of Her work. Evening has approached and even though my eyesight, mysteriously sharpened since The Healing, would allow a few more minutes of reading, the darkening sky and Her presence bid me to close Her case study and rise to greet Her, arms open and kiss prepared. She takes them both with ease.
Many in the crowd continue to escort us around the market, some offer gifts, others offer advice on who to haggle with and how, or who to avoid, all of them completing the trade of giving appreciation for the unexpected musical event She had just presented. She humbly accepts their tokens, and I follow suit less dramatically to keep their attention on Her. And, thus, did She complete the first of many transactions She would offer across the Shire to mend Her reputation and that of the House.
Fair trade.
As I witness Her interactions with them, I am mindful of the relationships She is building with these good folks. Among other things, She is as remarkable a trader as she is a bride, and is well versed in the pre-eminent difference between trading and sharing. The first must involve the respectful heart, the second must have an intimate one.
I love my wife and all She is, and I am resolved to share all I am and all I have with Her.
