The Story of Littleman
"There, Petrilly--be a dear child and fill my teacup. Surely thanks. Oh, and just a wee splash from the bottle to give it some character. Well done, lass."
"The story, Grandmother--tell us the story!" Eyes wide, the youngsters waited impatiently until the old halfling's tea was properly mixed. She sipped, and smacked her lips, and then began.
"Yes... the story of Littleman. But it's not just a story of the first halfling--it's a story of the gods, as well. The gods of the Big Folk and the Bad Folk, humans and goblins, who dwell up in the Seven Heavens and look out over the worlds and watch out for their followers."
"And Yondalla, Grandmother? She's there too, isn't she?"
"Mercy, child! Where else would she be? All you little ones know she's the great Protector of all halflings. Of course she lives there! In fact, the tale's not just about Littleman, but about Yondalla as well. But in those days, when our story begins, she was not yet our protector. Indeed, back then Yondalla was held by most of her fellows to be an unimportant goddess and was little heeded by the great lords of Human and Elf, Dwarf and Monster.
"Not that she was weak, or meek, mind you--quite the contrary. Yondalla was bold and brave, and quick to speak her mind when the gods met together in one of their great councils. But alas, since she had no faithful worshippers, her wise words were often ignored by the other gods, deities who boasted of their multitude of followers like peacocks showing off their pretty tailfeathers. Then, too, there was the matter of her size--gods are like too many people I could mention and are quicker to give respect to the huge and awesome than the small and clever, and Yondalla barely reached to the knee of many of the mightier lords."
"But, but, Grandmother...?" Kepli spoke tentatively. "Yondalla's a mighty goddess--isn't she?"
"Aye, Sprout--that she is. But even in those days, many other gods already had the weight of worshipping legions to support them and cause others to listen to their words. Yondalla had none, and thus many of the greater lords ignored her, especially after she was banned from their councils for a time . . ."
"But why would they do that to someone as nice as Yondalla?" Petrilly wanted to know.
"Simple, lass. She'd often heard various of the gods boast that they were the wisest, or strongest, or most popular deity of them all. One time when all the gods were gathered in council, she asked 'Which of you is the greatest?' Quickly the responses grew heated, and the argument that followed lasted for a long, long time; by the time it was over just about everybody was mad at just about everybody else. And they decided to blame it all on poor Yondalla for bringing it up in the first place--isn't that just like Big Folks?
"But it wasn't just that; her questions had gotten her in the soup before, and not listening to the big gods making long speeches and trying to impress one another was hardly punishment in her mind. I think it was more that she was tired of being ignored. It seemed to her that even those gods and goddesses who were her friends often treated her with condescension, as if her size meant she had no more sense than a child! Humph!
"Also, Yondalla is a kind and tolerant goddess. She admires kindness and generosity--not traits that the other gods held in abundance. But remember, my little ones, Yondalla is also a clever god. She saw the power that followers gave to the other gods, and she determined that she would have followers of her own. Finally, the goddess decided there was nothing for it but to find some worshippers of her own."
"Kepli, the fire needs another log--Ah! there's a good lad.
"Yondalla left the Seven Heavens and came to the Worlds Below, where she searched for a long time, looking for the perfect worshipper. But it was a long, hard search: most of the folks she came across already had gods of their own. She could have tried to steal away the other gods' worshippers, of course, but that would have meant trouble, and it was never Yondalla's way to stir up trouble when there was an easy way of avoiding it. Other folk had no gods, but watching them Yondalla saw that they were cruel and savage, hurting one another for no reason. She wanted followers she wouldn't have to scold every ten minutes, and decided to continue her search.
"I don't know how long she searched--my old grandmother used to say it was 'a day and a year and a year and a day'--but surely it was a long weary time. Then one day she saw Littleman sitting on a riverbank, fishing, and at that moment her search was over."
The old matriarch stopped. There was a long, thoughtful pause as her audience considered the story. Unnoticed, Pedderee refilled the venerable halfling's empty cup. Finally Kepli broke the silence: "Grandmother? Where did Littleman come from? What was he doing before Yondalla found him?"
"Ah, child, who knows? Remember, this was in the Bad Old Days, before our folk had farms, and villages, and shires of our own. Back then we were scattered like mice when the owls are out. Each family kept to itself and had its own hidden burrow. It was a hard life: sneaking, and hiding, and getting by on gleanings and scraps, always listening for enemies at the door.
"But Littleman, he wasn't afraid like the rest. He used to boast there wasn't a monster in the whole forest he couldn't outsmart, and he proved time and again that his quick wits were more than a match for brute strength by leading enemies into trap after trap as they chased him, until finally they'd given up and decided to leave him alone. Thanks to his carrying on so, his folk were safer than they had been in a long day, for none of the Bad Folk wanted to mess with any halfling they came across, in case it turned out to be Littleman.
"Yondalla watched Littleman for a long time and decided she liked what she saw. Here was a potential worshipper who was clever, brave, kind-hearted, and full of mischief. Best of all, he was just the right size. So one day she revealed herself to him and made him a bargain: if Littleman would gather all his scattered people into villages and communities, in return for their worship Yondalla would protect them from all their many enemies and give them a life of plenty and peace.
"Now, Littleman thought this over and decided it sounded fair, so he said 'Done!' And from that day to this, Yondalla has watched over our folk and guarded our prosperity, and we have been her people."
"Now, Littleman set to work, and gathered his people together, and showed them how to outsmart their enemies, frightening most away and banding together to defeat the rest. Soon there was a small village along the riverbank. True to her word, Yondalla showered her blessings upon them and gave them a comfort and contentment they had never known before. There was enough to eat, and safe places to sleep; friends to visit, and a fire in every home.
"That was the greatest of all her gifts, the greatest treasure to show her love for her new people: the hearth you'll find today, my sprouts, in every halfling home, no matter how humble, no matter how small. Its fire kept the halflings warm, and cooked their food, and brightened their burrows, a constant reminder of Yondalla's gifts.
"So great was their love of their new life that most of Littleman's people wanted to remain always beside their hearths, till the Bad Old Days faded to a distant memory, a reminder to help them cherish their new way of life all the more."
The venerable ancestor coughed for a moment, and took another sip of her potent tea. Sighing contentedly, she leaned back in the soft chair. Kepli had climbed into her lap, and she patted the youngster's head absently.
"And what of Littleman, Grandmother? Did he settle down with the rest?" demanded Pedderee, sticking out her tongue at her privileged brother.
"Well, strange to say, all the changes that had come over his fellow halflings, changes he'd caused, didn't affect Littleman much. He was the same merry scamp he'd always been, and when he'd finished the task Yondalla had set him would have gone back to his old carefree ways, had she not had other plans for him.
"Yondalla was well pleased with her Littleman, and wanted him to do the same for halflings everywhere as he'd done for those of the Green Fields. And Littleman, he was full of wanderlust, and agreed, thinking it'd be a fine thing to travel the world and see all there was to see. So he set out on his travels, and for years he went from forest to forest, anywhere there were any of our people, and showed them how to put their fear aside and make places for themselves in the world alongside the Big Folk. And when he was done with that, Yondalla showed him how to travel the paths to other worlds, paths known only to the gods.
"So Littleman went on his way, traveling to all the worlds that were, looking for the scattered homes of our people. He noticed how people are more apt to like those who have a lot in common with them, so when he found some of our folk living nearby settlements of the Big People, he taught them how to adopt some of the Big People's ways. If he found some of the small people living in a deep forest ruled by elves, by the time he left a village of Tallfellows prospered in a nearby forest glen. Where a few families had been driven into the hills not far from a dwarven underground city, a homestead of Stouts sprang up.
"And everywhere he went, Littleman found humans. It seemed that humans could live anywhere. Even in those days their numbers were far greater than those of the dwarves or elves. He watched the humans carefully, for of all the Big Folk they seemed the closest to the small folk in nature. He saw them in many guises, in many places. Whereas the elves kept to their forests and the dwarves their mountains, humankind dwelt in temperate plains, amid lofty mountains and forbidding glaciers--even in steaming jungles and parched desert. Most of the places Littleman found any of our people dwelling, their nearest neighbors were human farmers or pioneers. Hence the Hairfeet came into being, and the long friendship between our folk and the Big Folk begun."
"And Littleman, Grandmother? Surely Yondalla rewarded him for all his work?" wondered Calkin.
"Aye, lad, that she did--but in her own way, and her own time. For a very long time Littleman traveled the worlds, meeting new people and seeing strange and wonderful sights, marvels beyond belief. Many of the folk in the villages he founded invited him to stay with them, but always he refused and set out again to see what lay beyond the next bend in the road.
"Then one day he climbed a hill and looked down into a valley, and it seemed to him that he'd never seen a fairer sight. A shady river wound its way along through well-tended fields surrounded by friendly forest. It was a small village of our folk, and just as Littleman was thinking how he'd like to sit along that riverbank and fish, he saw that it was the very river he used to fish in all those years ago! He found his old burrow, kept clean and snug all the time he'd been away by his neighbors, and sat down contentedly by his own hearth once again. He'd come back to his own home at the end of all his wanderings, and if he's not gone away I 'spect he's there still."