Indie & Selective
Nienna
In the Music, she took little part. But listened intently until the end.
All her love is mingled with ᴩɪᴛy.
For she is the mighty who cries for all the unjust and terrible things that happen in the world, but she is also the one that teaches endurance and wisdom through adversity.
≺ ڿ❀ڰ ≻ 〈 He knows their amusement most of all, from Thorin to Thranduil and even from Smaug. It is a quick and fleeting thing—- a sparkle in the eye, a quirk of the lips, a chuckle that is not because the more important, much revered people of Middle Earth think so little of a his race’s abilities that it throws them off-guard when they are gifted enough to see it. Bilbo never says a word, because he knows it. He knows that compared to the others they are seen as idyllic and often naive. He himself has experienced it firsthand, but it’s still a curious thing to behold.
Yet, he can’t find it in himself to fault her, for she looks more upset by something else. There is something on this woman’s mind and he wonders what thiat must be, to involve a simple creature such as himself. With a brief tilts of the head the Hobbit lowers his pipe, more inclined to politeness now that he has acertained that she is no threat. This woman is a gentle and kind soul—- he sincerely doubts that she means to cause him harm.
❝ Have you, now? And what does your observation of my kind tell you, I wonder? I’m sure you know by now that I am not the most typical Hobbit in the Shire. Well. I used to be—- quite popular, respected, invited without question to all the best parties seen in all the Farthingwood. Now I am loved for my gold but… I believe I’ve become something of a pariah in these parts. I’m not exactly a model Hobbit. I’m not sure about that ‘wise’ bit, though. Surely half of middle- earth would agree with me on that one.
〈 And if that is what she’s looking for, then he ought to send her on her way. It’s quite the unfortunate thing, he says outwardly. Quite unfortunate, a simplistic way to placate his peers as he mourns the loss of adventure in his life and the warmth which greeted him from every Dwarf around the campfire. He is elf-friend, guest of eagles, beloved by dragons; and all those things are terribly wrong in his society. He mourns it, but he wears these titles as badges of honor. He doesn’t want to be a normal Hobbit, anymore.
Still… Wise? Wise is a term for Gandalf, who knows beyond anyone the value of sentiment. Wise is for Balin who used to be able to read Thorin like a book. Wise is for Thorin— the Dwarrow who commanded respect with militaristic precision. Wise is not for a simple soul from the Shire—- at least, he never thought so.
❝ Oh. Oh, no, of course. I haven’t gone walking for ages and I fear that if I don’t my legs will get too stiff. Terrible thing, that would be. Besides, I’d hardly deprive someone of company. Please, after you, madam.
♕ } He is a thoughtful thing, isn’t he? And that in itself brings a semblance of a smile to her face. She is fond of him already. It is clear to her why Olorin found him to be of interest. A trustworthy creature indeed. She wishes for a moment that she had picked a small form for it brings her no pleasure to be taller than the other. She would much rather walk as his equal. She takes his sentiments about his own kind into consideration. It is difficult for Nienna to simply allow things to pass without putting any thought into them. Each word is worthy of inspection.
« You are not a typical hobbit, you say – I find that to be a falsehood. A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps. What I feel is that you show more flexibility than the rest. Do not misunderstand, my dear Bilbo. You are unique. Every living thing is. You are different than any other hobbit. But that can be said for any hobbit. Are you not all different than one another?
Instead it is more like I believe that… you have more experience than most. What is wonderful about you is that you made the decision to be more. Every hobbit is capable of that. Albeit it may be a jarring experience.»
Well, decision or coercion; Nienna cannot be certain. Her expression taking a rapid turn towards sympathy. Her thoughts are many. It is not that her focus is lacking, simply that she can be thinking of many things at once. And with Bilbo there is much to think about. His inevitable corruption has not gone from her thoughts. That she might reach out and take the ring from him —-
But she is not capable of it. To take what has not been given to her. To go against decisions made by the other Valar, she must remain a neutral party. Difficult, so difficult for her already heavy heart. Each move she makes is both thoughtless and well-planned. Even the Valie has no certainty as to what she has predetermined and what she was not. Be it on a whim, her arm extends and graceful fingers spread to gently brush the skin of his cheek. She is so overwhelming sad for him it takes her much effort to stem her tears.
Her hand retreats as quickly as it invaded and she leads the way with footsteps that seem to seldom touch upon the ground.
« I am doubtful you have heard my name.. but you do know my friend. Now he is.. called Gandalf. He has had so many names. I myself know him by another. I apologize if I startle you. It isn’t my intent – but I have spent very little time in the study of semantics and manners. »