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AStephens
Orangeblossom of Willowbottom
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Location: The Land of Enchantment
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Re: Orangeblossom Bramble of Willowbottom: A History
I'm guessing Orangeblossom is in her early- to mid-30's...
I read on some site that's about when Hobbits got married... if that's not right, I can always adjust it....
I imagine Siagrin--another name given to me by that name generator (and yes, Cheers, the name generators are great! :yes: )--is about two to three years older...
I had trouble coming up with Siagrin's name....it seemed every combination I tried wasn't right....
The funny thing is, I nearly hooked Orangeblossom up with an elf (Glorfindel)!  Not that it would be all *that* bad, but I'd much rather see her marry a fellow Hobbit!
Last edited by AStephens (Local user), 9/21/03, 10:06 pm
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9/21/03, 10:04 pm
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AStephens
Orangeblossom of Willowbottom
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Re: Orangeblossom Bramble of Willowbottom: A History
Meanwhile, back in Michel Delving, Orangeblossom had departed the bath, feeling much rested and cleaner. Throwing on a robe that had been laid out for her, she walked out of the bath area and found herself in another room—a bedroom with candles aglow and the bed sheets turned down.
Darkness fell upon Michel Delving as she slipped under the covers and fell fast asleep.
She was jolted awake by the furious pounding of hooves around her. Just what was going on?
She peered out the door in amazement. “Siagrin,” she called. No answer. Hmmm. Very curious.
She tiptoed out of her room, wondering what was going on. She searched every room for a sign of Siagrin or anyone else who might be able to explain what was happening, but all she heard was the sound of her own voice and footsteps.
It was only after she approached the very front door that she got her first real taste of the happenings outside. The sky was peppered with arrows, spears, and torches—with every race—hobbit, elf, dwarf, wizard, and even human—running or riding on horses.
In the confusion, she thought she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she saw Siagrin running toward her.
“You’d better go back where you came from,” he instructed. “It isn’t safe for you to remain here.”
Orangeblossom reluctantly agreed. “But,” she wondered, remembering the trouble she’d had in even coming, “how can I get home?”
Siagrin seemed to have the answer, for soon a gentle paint appeared by his side. It was just short enough for Orangeblossom to mount.
“Goodbye,” Siagrin said, as she mounted and took the reins, “and good luck.”
Orangeblossom only had to kick the horse’s sides to get it to start at a quick gallop, back toward Willowbottom.
“Goodbye,” Orangeblossom called, just before she was out of sight. “Thanks for all your help.”
In no time at all, the familiar scenes of Willowbottom surrounded her once more. She looked around at all the places she’d enjoyed—the little area where Sam and Frodo had taken her to discuss her situation with Merry and Pippin—the field where the three often ventured—
She was home.
Last edited by AStephens (Local user), 9/23/03, 8:14 pm
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9/22/03, 5:21 pm
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AStephens
Orangeblossom of Willowbottom
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Re: Orangeblossom Bramble of Willowbottom: A History
Dismounting the horse, she watched as it turned and galloped away—as if it knew where it had come from.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of galloping horses—the same sights and sounds she’d heard in Michel Delving.
Ducking behind a tree, Orangeblos-som peered out to see what was going on.
Three horses soon approached the hobbit hole. Its riders dismounted—but without the arrows, spears, or torches she’d seen before.
It was only when the three approached the door of the little dwelling that she was able to discern their identities.
“Father—Sam—Frodo—”
She could hear their voices as they approached the door.
“A rough war,” Oriothon was saying, “but at least we made it out alive.”
“That battle at Michel Delving was the roughest of all,” Frodo agreed.
Michel Delving! Orangeblossom gasped. So what she had seen was part of the war! No wonder Siagrin wanted her to get away as soon as possible!
But, she wondered, what about Merry and Pippin? Had they been involved as well?
Suddenly, she heard more horses Two more riders dismounted.
Orangeblossom’s curiosity got the best of her. Was it—
“Sorry we’re late,” a familiar voice said. “Peregrin here decided we just had to have a bath,” he added, elbowing his friend, but with a twinkle in his eye.
“You know you enjoyed it, Meriadoc,” Pippin laughed, poking his friend in the chest with his elbow.
Merry! Pippin! So they had survived!
But—there was still one more unaccounted for. Had Siagrin himself survived the battle? Was he even involved?
Another horse approached—at a slower gait than the others. Once again Orangeblossom peered out.
“Hello,” its rider said, dismounting. “I trust you are Oriothon?”
“Yes,” Oriothon said, draping an arm around his horse’s back. “I am Oriothon.”
“Siagrin,” the rider said, extending a hand. “I believe I took care of your daughter for a few days.”
Bariathan, who had heard the conversations from afar, approached at the mention of Orangeblossom’s name. “We sent her off not long ago,” she disclosed, hesitant to reveal the exact nature of the journey. “We’re all a bit worried about her,” she said, motioning to the little quartet that had surrounded them. They all nodded in agreement.
Suddenly, Orangeblossom got a gleam in her eye. She was going to give them all the surprise of their lives!
A small cluster of orangeblossoms grew near the tree where she had ducked. Quickly, she found a runner of grass and laced several of the blossoms onto it. Twisting the ends together, she placed the little headwear onto a nearby stump.
“She is near.” Sam suddenly looked around. “I can sense her presence.”
“Now, Samwise,” Frodo said, taking hold of Sam’s hand, “you’re letting your imagination run away with you. You know we set her free to clear her mind—and possibly find a suitable mate for herself.”
“No,” Sam insisted, breaking away from his friend’s grasp. “She’s around here somewhere. I just know it.”
Orangeblossom peeked around the trunk of the tree as Sam approached. He started to sit on the stump.
Orangeblossom slipped the little wreath off the stump just before he sat down. Silently, she placed it on his head—just as she had in days of old when they went out together.
“What is this?” Frodo reached up and took the wreath off Sam’s head. “Orangeblossoms,” he whispered, examining the well-constructed wreath.
“Orangeblossoms… Orangeblossom…” Sam, with much the same determination in his eyes, started circling the tree. He was within inches of her when ever so softly, she slipped behind him and put her arms around his waist.
Sam’s eyes grew as wide as saucers as he looked to see what the source of this little invasion was. Could it be…could it possibly be?
At the very last minute, Orangeblossom stepped out in front of him, with an excited, glad-to-be-home-again smile on her face.
“Orangeblossom,” he whispered, taking her in his arms. Tears—this time tears of joy—welled in their eyes as they collapsed in each other’s arms.
“Dear, dear Sam,” Orangeblossom said, the words choked by her own tears. “I missed you so much.”
She had missed this—missed being in the arms of the ones she loved, as one by one they joyfully—and at times even tearfully—welcomed the prodigal daughter home.
“I thought we’d lost you for good,” Frodo said, as he hugged her again, since it seemed he could never get enough of the sweet young maiden who had won his heart from her birth.
“Now whose imagination is running away with him?” Sam turned to Frodo, at the same time allowing Orangeblossom back in his arms. The smile seemed plastered on everyone’s faces as they settled down right then and there for a homecoming feast.
“All right,” Frodo laughed, conceding to his friend. “You win that one.”
Last edited by AStephens (Local user), 9/27/03, 11:29 pm
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9/24/03, 5:39 pm
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AStephens
Orangeblossom of Willowbottom
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Re: Orangeblossom Bramble of Willowbottom: A History
The feast was abundant, as they all dug in. “I’d like to propose a toast,” Oriothon suddenly said, getting up.
“To Siagrin,” he said, raising his glass. “To the one who so unselfishly took our daughter in.”
Orangeblossom, who had been seated to one side of Siagrin, turned to him and smiled her thanks once again.
“I can think of no other person,” Oriothon continued, “who is more worthy for my daughter’s hand in marriage.”
A collective gasp went around the table as they realized what was happening. Siagrin suddenly fell to one knee.
“You heard your father,” he smiled. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Siagrin.” Orangeblossom’s eyes welled with tears for the second time that day. “It was when I couldn’t find you this morning that I realized I loved you.”
It was so quiet they could hear a pin drop.
“I would be honored to be your wife.”
The feast, originally set out to welcome Orangeblossom home, quickly became one of betrothal.
“You see?” Sam said, as he approached. “I knew there was someone out there waiting just for you.”
“We all knew it,” Frodo said, taking Orangeblossom in his arms one more time. He stroked that sweet face—looked into those hazel eyes that had captivated his heart so long ago.
“Don’t leave us, Orangeblossom,” Sam choked on the words as tears rolled down his face. “We love you.” Frodo had a similar reaction.
The words Sam and Frodo had said when it was decided she had to leave Willowbottom for a while echoed through her mind.
“Don’t worry,” she laughed, taking them in her arms one last time. “I’d never forget you two. Never in a million ages.” She kissed each one on his forehead, wiping away stray tears that had fallen. “You know I love you, too.”
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9/27/03, 11:30 pm
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Cheers
Cailinn of Lorien
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 Re: Orangeblossom Bramble of Willowbottom: A History
:laugh:
---
Nai i silme o i Valar kalla ree N'hrive
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9/28/03, 6:27 pm
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Thea
Shieldmaiden of Rohan
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 Re: Orangeblossom Bramble of Willowbottom: A History
So sweet, Blossom. Great writing!
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9/29/03, 1:29 pm
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I don't believe any Hobbit has yet married an Elf in the Company, so that would be something new. Great writing so far.
