(Originally posted 6/26/17)
At last, we approach the final leg of our adventures. Tomorrow, we set our feet south for the Golden Wood, the homeland of my dear friend, Cesistya. But, let me step back a little and talk about where we are now!
Now then, where did I leave off – ah, yes! Hrimbarg, the dwarven keep in the mountains. So much snow, so much wind, so much cold! I will not miss that place, though I apologize to anyone who loves a frigid, winter climate. I was more than happy to have Baldmar lead us on from there, though we trudged through more of the same blustery, frosty stuff for quite a while before the mountains released us. I watched the ground closely, praying for it to begin sloping downwards, giving me some hint that we were getting closer to the eastern side! And, at long last, the inevitable relief appeared, and no longer did we have to climb, and the wind was finally at our backs rather than our faces, as we began making our way down from the high plateaus and into the gentler foothills. I know my step grew lighter as I went, and I felt myself smiling, talking more freely, holding my beloved Conrob’s hand, knowing that warmth and sunshine was ahead!
We spent the better part of a day making our way through the foothills. The snow grew thin and then vanished altogether, and we were surrounded by majestic evergreens and tall grasses flooding the channels between the rocky bluffs. We paused to watch the sun set at our backs, over the mountains, and for some reason, the sight was so breathtakingly beautiful, I know I shall never forget it.
As the sun made its way towards the horizon, Baldmar drew us to a halt, and pointed out a curious, towering formation in the distance. The Carrock. A sacred old watchpost of sorts for his people, high over the Great River, or Anduin.
The next morning found us down along the river, wading through waist-high grasses, and breathing air so fresh and fragrant, it felt like a new spring day rather than midsummer. The river was wide and brown, and as we passed closer to the base of the Carrock, I could see a path of stones leading through the water. Baldmar said that mystical things could take hold of one’s mind if they climbed the old stone steps and stood atop it. Conrob seemed to think it an uncomfortable thought, but oh, I was so fascinated! What has my friend seen and felt from that great height, looking over the mountains and the river?
We turned inland, and soon were passing through wide meadows, thick with wildflowers and absolutely covered in butterflies and bees! Enormous bees, I might add! I would’ve been nervous had we not been led by Baldmar, for I knew the sight of the bees meant we were getting closer to our destination.
We approached a wall of dark, towering oak trees, and before them was a hedge of some sort of thick, tangled vine, full of thorns, with a great, wooden gate, and we could glimpse some thatched-roof buildings beyond.
Before we arrived at the gate, a group of large dogs came running out suddenly, barking like mad! We all startled, and Conrob pushed me behind himself, but at the same moment that I felt a cold, wet nose inspecting my hand, I heard a loud and merry laugh from none other than Baldmar! I looked and saw him embracing several of the dogs at once, and they were licking and pawing at him with great affection. The animals around me, Conrob, and Cesistya did not linger, but took off running through the gate, apparently to “announce” our arrival! I grew immensely excited, having heard so much about this place and its…Well, “enchanted” isn’t the right word, for the animals here are not under any spell. To be truthful, the rapport that they have with people is like that of the Mearas with their human companions. And, I think, such an understanding could be had by almost anyone, with any creature, if they were patient and insightful enough to nurture it. But, I’m getting off on a tangent now!
Baldmar led us along a short path through a wide yard, filled with stables, outbuildings, and countless beehives, all a-buzzing. A low, wooden house was at the far end, and on the porch was a man, rivaling Baldmar in size and gruff appearance.
He rose and greeted his kinsman warmly, and with his booming voice, beckoned us to enter the house with him, giving his name to us as Grimbeorn. Inside, we were led into a long room, glowing with the light of an immense hearth, and invited to sit at a long, wooden table. Our host sat opposite us and looked on each of us in turn, speaking an individual greeting as we said our names. Darling Conrob, he quickly doffed his hat and mumbled some sort of formal title when he addressed Grimbeorn, introducing himself so proudly as my husband, and I could’ve died for how much I loved him in that moment.
Imagine our surprise when Grimbeorn clapped his hands, and from various doorways came animals bearing trays and baskets of food! Yes, animals! Imagine taking your bread from a basket tied to the back of a sheep as it peers up at you with as much intelligence as any serving-maid in a tavern. Oh, it was utterly fantastical! We indulged on bread with butter and jam, and endless mugs of rich cream, and enjoyed each other’s company until the daylight began to fade, and I felt my eyes growing droopy. Grimbeorn stood and bid us to find our beds, while he invited Baldmar to join him for what sounded like some sort of…nighttime patrol of the property. Conrob, Cesistya, and I were bid not to wander outside the hedge, nor even outside the house at night. A mysterious request, but one does not question the ways of these men.
The three of us who were left together sat and talked for a time amid the lowering firelight and emptied platters. Eventually, Conrob took my hand and we discovered a cozy set of rooms that had been prepared for us. After so much travel, and with full bellies, we laid in each other’s arms and slept more soundly than I can recall in recent memory. I used to dream of traveling the world and becoming an adventurous shieldmaiden. And who knows? Perhaps, one day I shall be. But for now, I cannot imagine wandering these wild lands and strange places without my husband at my side, nor without his strong arms around me each night. And though we’re gathering countless, incredible memories every day, I do believe I will be glad beyond measure to step foot in our humble Bree-land cottage again, and have a cup of tea at the Prancing Pony.
Alas, today we must bid this enchanting place farewell, and carry on towards our next stop. Béma guide and protect us.
