RP:Peasantly Surprised

SUMMARY: Lanara happens upon Bastion in the land of the hobbits, while stealing some potatoes to assist Talyara in her job at Emilia's farm. The two are an odd match, but perhaps the beginning of a beautiful friendship is forming. The two talk about life after death, horned beasts, religion, and heritage. All in a day's work on a plantation!

Lanara exits the small house, which smells heavily of carrot soup, with a smile on her pretty face. Rose was an old friend, and the hobbit loved her tiny greenhouse and working in the field. The elf was here primarily to pick up a sack of potatoes for her sibling, Talyara, though she had come up short, and only held half a sack of russet potatoes in her grasp. The woman stands at about 5’5” and is of slight frame, with appropriate curves in the appropriate places. Long, chestnut waves cascade to the middle of her back, and dark chocolate hues take in their surroundings with a look of intrigue. As she meanders through the land of the Burrows, she finds herself on the Delicate’s Farm, and keeps a close eye out for more potatoes. The last thing she needed was for her sister to lose her job on Emilia’s farm! If she didn’t fill the bag of spuds soon, it may not bode well for Taly’s employer. So, this is where Lana climbs the fence, drops into the field, and cautiously prowls through the rows of carefully planted vegetables. A large crowd of peasants sits in a wide circle around a bonfire to the far left, and though she is trying to be wary about her surroundings, she’s intent on filling her bag, and isn’t being as alert as she should be. So it’s no wonder that she finds herself a mere six feet from the gathered group of hippies, and eyes them chewing tobacco, singing songs, and swaying to an imaginary beat while gazing into the fire. Lana quirks a brow, hugs the sack to her chest, and takes a gander at the flames herself, before sneaking into the next row of crops.

Bastion was a peasant monk, and sworn against mind altering substances like alcohol, and drugs of any nature. Fortunately, his hobbit companions understood well his limitations after so long with him, and knew that to take care of their hard working boy; they had to practice a little deceit. Bastion was still trying to figure out where all those days and nights disappeared off to in his memory. Also perhaps quite fortunately, the 'fun' hadn't started for him yet, as he was still working the vegetable gardens of quite a few of the Burrows denizens. Hands covered in dirt, yet oddly still soft, and wearing simple white linens which showed great wear and stains, he was wrist deep in the ground pulling potatoes when Lanara happened upon him. He froze watching her with her sack of potatoes, the only other human around. Except, she wasn't quite human, was she? He noted some differences in her bone structure, certain angles and features uncommon to humans, and her ears. Quite pointed. He quirked a brow, and rose, with a smile, dipping a small, polite bow. Soft, gentle pink eyes took her in, and the black ram horns on his head might confuse one as to what he was, though nothing else suggested he was anything other than human. "Good morrow, madam. Can I help you?" Whether he knew whether or not she was supposed to be there, remained a mystery.

Lanara shrieks, as she’s so startled by the sudden goat-boy, that the potatoes tumble from her sack and land with a thud on the ground. “Wh-What are you?” She stammers, those chocolate hues widening in surprise as she takes in the black horns on the male’s head, and the dirt splattered on his clothing. She had never laid eyes on such a being before, and not wanting to come across as a complete dolt, she clears her throat and drops to her knees to place the potatoes back into their rightful sack. In doing so, she tries to engage in polite conversation, for more than one reason. The first being that she was stealing, and if he were employed on the farm, she didn’t need any trouble from the hobbit folk, or from Miss Rose. The second reason being that she didn’t know if this man was a friend or foe, a boy or a beast, and she wasn’t going to take any chances. The animal lover in her seeks to inquire about the horns, to seek knowledge. Though the elf in her urges to proceed with caution, and to keep her guard up. Lush lips form a smile that reaches to her tapered ears, and she maintains eye contact while taking a few of the potatoes he had pulled recently from the ground. “Hello. I was just looking for some potatoes to fill the rest of my sack… I purchased the first half from Miss Rose, the owner of this farm.” No mention was further made as to the rest of the bag, however, though the elf is no major threat, and a few missing potatoes would hardly be noticed. “I’m Lanara, though my friends call me Lana. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Bastion gave her a soft smile. It wasn't the first time his horns had evoked fear and confusion. "I do hope you'll forgive me my appearance. I am but a humble man of labor." Boy, really, but if he wanted to pretend to be a man, that was ok too. A black lamb would brush up against Lanara's leg, having come from behind her, oddly possessed of black ram horns as well. It tried to stick its head in her potato sack and eat some of her potatoes. Bastion laughed at the scene. "Forgive her! She's a silly creature. Here, let me help you fill your bag the rest of the way, mhmm? I've a very good eye for potatoes. We'll find you the best of the bunch. Oh, and I'm pure human, as far as I know. I'm not sure the source of these horns. I was an orphan, you see, and it's been suggested that my mother was a satyr, perhaps." It was suggested far more often that she was a goat, but Bastion didn't appreciate such insinuations overly much. He'd move about, bringing forth potatoes from a rather large wagon not too far from him, picking out the best of those he'd unearthed this day. Cherry blossoms fell around him, from nowhere, it seemed, though once the petals hit the ground, they stayed, as real as could be. Bastion tended to focus well on his work, and his spirit shone forth in his efforts.

Lanara returns the smile and finds herself calming down, her shoulders relaxing, and the bag opened wide so that he could fill it with potatoes. As the black lamb approaches and tries to snatch a spud from the bag, the woman throws her head back and laughs, before extending a hand to gently rub the lamb’s back. “You are so cute, you know that?! Here…” Plucking half a carrot from her pocket, she brings it to the creature’s muzzle and coo’s over the small lamb. Giving Bastion a sidelong glance, she studies the male as he explains his orphanage and his guess at his heritage. The cherry blossoms earn an appreciative smile as their scent fills the air, and the woman assumes that the flowers are a mere hint to the horned one’s magical abilities. Having been stripped of her magic recently, she gets a faraway look in her eyes, but quickly returns to the task at hand and continues their conversation. “I’m sorry… That must be awful to not truly know your parents. I grew up with my mother and step-father, though I hadn’t come to know my true father until recently. Sometimes it’s best to remain oblivious to the past.” There was much more to her story than she let on, though, and had she known him better she may have opened up more. For now she merely strokes the black lamb at her side, and helps him in filling the bag. “Have you worked here long? Were you raised amongst the hobbits? I come from an elven kingdom, Kelvar, which is very far away. I have lived all over Hollow for the past three or so years.”

Bastion watched the little lamb, with a smile. She bleated when the potatoes were pulled away, but quieted down when a carrot replaced them. She ate the carrot down, soft lips nuzzling Lanara's hand as she reached the end of the orange treat. "Ah, I have not worked here long, no. A few weeks, off and on. I travel, you see, and offer my aid in labor wherever I go. I'm quite fond of the company of hobbits, but I've many vows to keep, and settling here permanently would ill suit me." He worked while he spoke, filling up her sack with only the best. "I was raised in a monastery far from here." Among all women, and as a woman, though he didn't tell her that. His gender had been kept secret until he came of age... it hadn't been difficult, given how pretty he was. "I am a peasant monk, on a pilgrimage of great labors. There is much yet for me to do, but I am content to follow my path slowly. I do not know if knowing my heritage would be bittersweet for me, but even if it were so, I'd still wish to know." He'd always wanted a mother, not unlike the dozens of other orphans he'd grown up with.

Lanara sits back on her heels, the lamb momentarily forgotten as she ties up the sack, carefully. Her sister would be so pleased with the quality and quantity of the potatoes, and Lana would be certain to tip Miss Rose heavily the next time she visited. As to Bastion, she studies the male with inquisitive eyes, the elf known for having a rather curious type of nature. He was younger than she originally thought, perhaps in his mid to late teens, and he was rather beautiful for a boy, though she didn’t outright say that, as most men wouldn’t want to be referred to as a ‘pretty’ boy. The horns were startling at first, but they didn’t appear demonic or anything, and as he speaks of the monastery, she arches both brows. “Oh… So you are the religious sort? Well… Or course you are. You said you are a monk… So your life is devoted to the powers up above? I am not religious, exactly… I am what your kind would refer to as an abomination or heretic, though I truly am not an evil elfess, at all. I am a very spiritual elf, a ‘witch’ if you would… I practice white magic. Though… As of late my magical abilities have left me, due to a pact I made when visiting the otherside, after I died… It’s all very confusing and a –very- long story… But, I know what it’s like to devote your life to a God or Goddess, and I think it’s awesome that you take it so seriously!” The lamb nudges her wrist, as though informing her that he desires more pets, and she happily obliges, though her attention is given primarily to Bastion. “So… Full disclosure! I have never met anyone of your kind, and I have to know… Were you born with the horns? Or did they sprout as you grew up? Was it painful? I hope I’m not offending you in any way, I’m just… Very curious… Which often gets me into trouble…” A half-smile would be given to the male as she peers at the group of peasants through the row of crops, before she shifts her gaze to Bastion once more. She appears at ease now around the peasant monk, and she’s thankful that the others aren’t interfering in her interview of the horned one.

Bastion didn't seem to take any offense to her inquiries, but arched a brow in some puzzlement when she mentioned herself being a 'heretic or abomination'. "You're beautiful, and whatever magic you practice, if you can do so in good conscience, and bring no harm to others, none have the right to judge you but your own Gods or Goddesses. I, however, do not follow any Gods as of yet. I'm a peasant monk... my fate is one of self realization, and perhaps enlightenment, but most importantly, my life is dedicated to the less fortunate, the masses of the land. I am vowed to Poverty, Peace, and Truth, and those are my dogma. I pay respects to all the Gods of a land, but I do not yet find myself following any one in particular. If you've lost a connection with part of yourself, you are unlikely to find one better suited to aid you than myself. The path of self knowledge is my greatest expertise. Ah! The horns. I am told that as a swaddled babe, I had them, fully grown, just so with mine sweet eweling, Kyrie." He pointed to the she-lamb, who nuzzled Lanara, and looked up at her with curiously bright red eyes. "She's a sweetheart, and I've made some of the most amazing woolens from her wool." Not that she ever stayed shaved... it grew as quickly as he could cut it, but the natural, undyed black wool was quite popular, and by gifting it, he'd garnered good will on entire village's behalf’s from their lords. "You cause no offense, and I'm not easily offended, good madam." He had such a gentle, patient demeanor... it was hard to imagine what he might be like without that gentle, confidant smile on his face. "It's quite a feat to die and return. I've never heard of such a thing, save from sailors who drowned, and were breathed new life in time."

Lanara blushes slightly as the young male referred to her as beautiful, and she gives a slight shake of her head, as she tucks an errant chestnut lock behind her pointed ear. Yes, she is stunning, but clearly compliments either make her uncomfortable or she doesn’t find herself very attractive. Whatever the reasoning, she is quick to change the subject, and tilts her head to the side, dark hues widening. “Oh! You are a –monk- not a paladin… For some reason I thought you were the religious sort… Its better this way, for you, I mean… Religion has a whole set of rules you’re supposed to follow, and some of them are a bit crazy. Sorry. I’m easily confused about all of the professions of the lands… But… I do respect what you are. Not many would devote their lives to helping others, aside from educators and healers. You are a bit of both, I think…” As Kyrie nuzzles her once more, she scratches beneath the lamb’s velvety chin, and smiles into those crimson eyes. “I bet you do make beautiful scarves, pretty lamb. But you best hold onto that fleece, as the winter nights can get rather chilly in this part of the lands.” A faint chuckle is given, as Lana rises to her feet and hoists the heavy bag of potatoes over her shoulder. The remark about returning to life is heard, though she doesn’t give a comment at this time. Maybe if they were closer friends she would be a little more open, but only time will tell. “I can’t thank you enough, Mister…” Only now does it occur to the brunette that Bastion hasn’t give his name and she pauses, waiting for the appropriate introductions before continuing. As his name is given, she smiles and extends her free hand, giving it a gentle shake. “Thank you. You have saved my sister, Taly, her job, and you saved me from having to learn how to plant and grow potatoes overnight! I hope we meet again. I have enjoyed meeting with you and Kyrie.” The woman’s words are sincere, as she gives a final nod, and turns on her heel to exit the fields.

Bastion dipped a small bow. "My name is Bastion, no surname, I'm afraid." That was an orphan’s lot, after all. He gave a knowing smile when she mentioned Kyrie needing her coat. Perhaps he would tell her, sometime. He shakes his hand, and watches as she leaves. "I do hope we'll meet again, as well." He felt he'd learned something important, something to bear in mind when he went to Larket to learn the truth about the turmoil there.