Page 49 of The Player in New Zealand
“I’mdriving,” he said, but he was laughing.
I turned the conversation back to the important topic. “We’re attracted to each other, but dating isn’t going to work out. Let’s just have some fun, okay?”
“Okay.” Tane’s grin turned mischievous. “So, my ass, hey?”
FIFTEEN
“Have you been here before?”I asked Tane as we settled into seats on the tour bus. We were at the offices of Hobbiton, where our group had gathered for the Evening Banquet Tour. Our cars would be left behind in the parking lot as we ventured to Hobbiton, the real-life movie set where they filmed some scenes from the Shire.
“No, I haven’t.”
“You have seen the movies, though, right?”
Tane rolled his eyes. “Of course, Claire. Who hasn’t?”
“Okay, just making sure. You don’t seem that excited.”
Putting his elbow on the armrest between us, he watched me, eyes dipping to my lower lip, which I nibbled on in excitement.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I watched the movies, but I never read the books or thought much about them.” He leaned in a little bit closer. “Why do you like them so much?”
I thought back to entire days spent playing Dungeons & Dragons and how the Lord of the Rings franchise had inspired characters and quests. Not the main ones, of course—no one named their chaotic good elf Legolas—but others. “I think the movies were a framework to build on with me and my friends. That’s one of the ways we expanded our creativity when we played D&D.” I shrugged. “It was influential. It helped give us better visuals that we could relate to.”
Tane nodded beside me. We were quiet for a moment, watching people filter onto the bus, and then Tane leaned toward me again.
“I may not be really excited for your nerd fest”—he nudged me playfully and his voice dropped lower—“but I amreallyexcited for afterward.”
A flush crawled up my neck as the bus pulled away and a welcome video started playing on the mini-screens above us, introducing the movies and giving us the history of the Shire. I watched with interest until Tane elbowed me and pointed out the window.
And there it was. The Shire. We unloaded from the bus, our tour guide walking us around and explaining everything we saw, answering questions, but mostly I just took it all in.
The hills rolled vibrant green, interrupted by the colorful hobbit doors and flowers lining the fences and paths. Little details, like Easter eggs, were sprinkled throughout: a “no admittance except on party business” sign hanging from Bilbo’s gate, birds’ nests and clothing lines and wishing wells.
Wonder rose over me, that this would be tucked away in New Zealand, a fictional world come to life right here for anyone to visit.
Some of the hobbit homes were smaller than others, something to do with scale and filming human actors. Tane posed for me, stooping low to get through one of the doors, placing his giant hand on the tiny doorknob, and I doubled over with laughter.
The best part of our tour was that it was late in the day. We were the only group there, and the lighting was soft and warm over the Shire. Paper lanterns switched on, an orange glow reflected in the still pond, while the Party Tree stood sentinel.
It was picturesque and perfect.
Our tour ended at the Green Dragon Inn, where we’d be served dinner. The warm wood gleamed, lit by the fireplaces and torches on the wall. I grabbed a beer for myself and water for Tane and returned to the corner where he was waiting, holding the table for us.
We sipped our drinks and watched out the window as the string lights switched on outside, the daylight disappearing.
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Tane asked me.
“More,” I said. “It feels real. Like there should be hobbits and magic in the world. I love it.” I turned back to the bar. “It reminds me of Haft & Hops a little bit.”
“Really? How so?”
“It’s the atmosphere, I guess. It’s warm and cozy and familiar. Wood and warm light.”
Tane hummed in agreement. “It feels romantic.”
I tilted my head and tried to muffle a smile. “If it were a date—if—it would be a pretty good one.”
Humor laced his voice. “Too bad it’s not a date.”
