Refugees, Part 1

It was three days since the Great Migration had started. Fiesty and her assistant Maisie stood waving at the latest batch of refugees as they began their trip across the Brandy Mountains to the hamlet of Bree. They were a hearty bunch and Fiesty thought they would fare well there. Many were left, elderly, sick and those who needed help to reach Brandyfields.

The Shire was humming with activity. Hobbits rushed about trying to feed the refugees.  Tents were put up in any available spot and the Hobbit households were full to the brim with Humans and Elves trying to not smack their heads on the rafters in the burrows.

Food Preparation at the Mill

The mill, the tavern, and the lighthouse were full of stewing and baking. The infirmary was full also.  The smoke and sulfur has affected many that lived close to the Shadowlands. There were the expected ills that might come from the rapid escape to the Shire; soreness, injuries and dehydration. But there was also a deep sense of depression that was now taking the place of the initial shock.

Mothers listlessly dandled their babies while the older children kept close by, fearfully watching the new environment. Some Hobbits, like Dodric Brandybuck, tried to play with the children, telling them gentle jokes and throwing balls about, but it was tough going.

Watching Myrtle Follow John the Shepherd

As they walked to their next appointment Fiesty noticed Myrtle hurrying up the pasture to John Dawson, the orphaned shepherd boy. She looked determined, as usual. Fiesty commented to Maisie, “That could be trouble.”  Maisie nodded and wisely replied, “Yes, imagine being free ter roam and all fer a year and then wind up in Myrtle’s care. It could be tryin on both of em.”

Fiesty nodded in turn. Her instinct was the boy would be better off in a human household, but the refugees had all they could do with their own families.  “Well, I will look fer a chance ter talk with him soon. Perhaps there be a way ter fix it.”

Their goodbyes done for the morning, Maisie went down to the Mill and Fiesty looked for Berilac Tighfield, her chief organizer. Not for the first time Fiesty wished Juste was about to take over that office, but he had followed the King and had not been seen since.

She found Berilac in the assembly house surrounded by Hobbits and Humans and a few Elves. The hubbub had slowed considerably but there still was a shortage of shelter. When Fiesty came in he spoke to one of his assistants and stood up, allowing his assistant to take over.

“Archdruid Lotus, good day ter yer” Fiesty smiled and said “Now you know I want yer to call me jest Fiesty.” Berilac nodded, a sour look on his face at the impropriety, but said “Yes mam.”

Fiesty internally sighed and then asked if there was anything he had to report. “Ah yes mam, we had two fire violations and a report of a few thefts. The cattle did get into the grain and had ter be chased out with brooms by Dame Violet and her niece. The tent team managed to make 50 new tents, and 200 pallets out of chicken feathers and hay. We used up 80 bags of flour, 32 bags of sugar, 30 hens fer stewing and 56 bags of grain fer porridge this morning…

” Fiesty cut him off, “But were there any new refugees, and does everyone have shelter?” 

Berilac looked down at his notes, “Well, most have shelter. We did get a few stragglers, an elven fellow, name of Fingon, and a human, name of Silversmith. 

Fiesty Approaches Beleriac Tighfield

Fiesty cried “Silversmith, Winter Silversmith?” 

Berilac answered “Um yes, that is the name, he was right bedraggled lookin.”  
Fiesty practically shouted “And where is he now?” 

Berilac looked uncomfortable, “Well, every home was spoken for so we gave him a tent and a token ter get some food. I dunno know where he is rightly.”  With a frown, Fiesty told Berilac that someone should be sent to look for the man. He nodded and found a scout to seek him out. 

Then she turned to some of the Hobbits in the hall. “You boys go out and give the word that Market will be held tonight by the Lighthouse. Make sure everyone in the Shire gets the word. Would you do that for me?” The boys all said yes and scattered, happy to be out in the air instead of the stuffy assembly room.

***************

Later on, the Market was held in the Shire. The Lady Saphira was there along with Fae Talia, They were talking about the latest developments when they heard a welcome voice from a distance.

Winter Silversmith shouts: Halloooo

Winter Silversmith mumbles to himself “What a beautiful place, I cannot believe I have not been here before.”

Saphira Mistwalker looks over to the bridge. "Ah, there he is."

Talia.Sunsong: "Princess Lightning can teach me how to shoot. That is awful generous of you considering I might defend myself with it. I want a nickname for learning how to shoot. I want to be Princess Danger Fae"

Winter Silversmith: “Odd place for a tent sir.”

Saphira Mistwalker giggles at Lord Winter's comment.

Fiesty Lotus turns to see Winter approaching

Talia.Sunsong:  “Greetings”

Winter Silversmith: “Ahh there you be.”

Fiesty Lotus: “Greetins Lord Winter.”

Winter Silversmith:  “Blessed Be”

Talia.Sunsong:  “Princess Lightning is offering to teach me how to shoot arrows.”

Saphira Mistwalker:  “Greetings Lord Winter, and welcome to the Shire refugee camp.”

Fiesty Lotus: “How yer faring?”

Winter Silversmith:  “Well it was quite the journey but I survived.”