The Green Dragon Inn - Part 9

[Fool Of A Took]

When he sat down again, Cree ran outside. Grimm thought he had said something wrong so he followed her out. When got out he saw her throwing up that medicine Crystal gave her. "Are you okay, my Lady?" Grimm said and walked closer. Cree nodded and tried to clear her throath. Grimm walked inside and got a glas of water to her. She drank it slowly and they went inside again. Cree seemed tired and almost worried of something.

Grimm took another sip of his ale, but it didn't taste that good as before. "You dont want anything to drink, Lady Cree?" Grimm asked and looked at her. I really feel sorry for her, she must feel terrible, he thought and looked with a concerned gaze at her. It was getting late and Grimm thought about maybe go to bed soon. It had been a long journey to reach The Shire.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled at the woman lightly. She was glad to help, but watched as she ran outside to throw up the medicine she had given her. Crystal's eyes dimmed sadly and turned back. Another cough racked her body. There was only a small amount of blood that didn't expell out of her mouth. She swallowed and unconsciously made a face. She picked up her cup and drank to get the metallic taste out of her mouth.

"Please tell the woman that I helped who I am when she gets back," Crystal said to Hama as she put her head in her hand. The dizziness had come back now and she felt as if she would fall off the tall stool that she was perched upon. Her breathing became eradiact and she tried to even it. It was becoming harder to breath. She prayed that she hadn't punctured her lung or had gotten a disease that was making her lungs bleed. She was convinced that the blood that was coming up was from inside her stomach from the alcohol that she had been drinking. She closed her eyes against the swirling world.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree shook her head. "No I believe I've had enough to drink for the day. If I drink too much I won't be able to leave tomorrow." Cree knew she hadn't mentioned the fact that she was leaving the next day.

She could tell that Grimm was tired. It must have been a very long journey for him to come to the Shire. She stood up and walked to stand behind Grimm. "You need to get yourself some rest."

She reached into her side pouch and pulled out some type of herbs. "Here if you want to stay awake for a little longer and not feel so tired take these. I'm not much of a medicine-elf. But I do know somethings about staying awake."

"I'm sorry about earlier." She could feel herself becoming sick again but kept it in. She didn't need anyone to worry about her anymore. All she needed was to feel independant and not have anyone to worry about or have anyone worry about her. The least of my worries would be to have something to worry about.

[Kransha]

Tobias Hornblower hopped up from his place, still muttering quietly, and walked over to bar. He propped himself up against and, with a similarly splendid flourish, whisked the pipe back into his coat pocket. He leaned against the bar for a moment, his half-closed eyes overlooking his surroundings, and finally turned to the innkeeper and looked her over too. After a second of that, he snorted rather indignantly and spoke up, as humbly as could.

“Madam,” he said, murmuring in a gruff but meek voice, “Would you by any chance be willing to accept credit for some refreshment, or perhaps a trade? I’ve got collateral aplenty and my word should be good here.” He seemed confident enough as he spoke, even though he was obviously nervous and thirsty.

Of course, he was lying. His word wasn’t good anywhere. He was a relatively well-off hobbit financially, but he had a tendency to forget the paying of his bill. He did have collateral, though, in the form of a large pouch brimming with Longbottom Leaf. He hoped it would serve, since he had no other items of value with him. He hadn’t been in the Green Dragon Inn since before the Great War, and he distinctly remembered “accidentally dropping his hat outside the door.” He fervently hoped that this incident had been forgotten with the arrival of a new innkeeper.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:26 PM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: Kransha ]

[Lumiel]

The sun had already cast its dusky rainbow palette across the sky and given way to the soft purples and pinks of early night. Though not cold, the air had a slight chill, and it was the kind more noticeable to a hungry child than to an adult. Along the dirt road, a young girl trudged onward. She wore a faded pink dress with a dirtied apron on the bottom half. The sleeves were rolled up on arms wrapped around a small body no more than three feet high. She wore no shoes on her feet and had dirt smudged on her feet, legs, hands, and face leaving her skin tone to only be guessed at. Her hair was a darker shade of blonde, just short of dirty blonde. It lay in a mess down to her shoulders, having been neglected for some time. Two large brown eyes peered from within the small framed face, liquid and inviting when lit with joy, but at the moment were stubbornly closed to outside influences yet open and alert for any chance at food or warmth. She had a small, pouted mouth and her body language gave the clue to a willful child.
She had walked the entire day as well as the day before that, with little food or sleep. She was hungry, tired, and cold. As alert as she had kept herself, she was wearing down. She didn't even notice the Inn until she was within sight of its stables. The horses whinnied at each other and their breath made small puffs of air, almost like they were dragons, tamed from the wild and...the child shook her head. No time for nonsense like that now.

The Inn cast a pale but warm light on the ground around it, and she could hear voices within and shadows to give bodies to them. The smell of food and the crackle of a fire reached her nose and ears and she inevitably found herself heading towards the door. She hesitated a moment in front of the threshold and then stepped within to her place of respite.

Her eyes opened in surprise at what she saw; people everywhere, of all sorts! Hobbits and Men and Elves...and here she was, a little girl in the way. She gasped and quickly found her way to the darker corners, where she went unnoticed by the patrons. Her momentary fear gave way to her seemingly indominatable spirit as she felt the luxury of warmth caress her skin and the tantalizing aromas of home-cooked meals waft her way. One problem was solved, but there were others.

She watched the people, what they did and how they did it. There seemed to be food aplenty here, and she wanted some of it. But how could she get some? She watched a woman at a table. She was almost finished, when a commotion occurred across the room. The woman went to help, and the girl saw her chance. She scrambled across to the table and snatched at the half-piece of bread that was left and snuck away before anyone noticed. In another dark corner, she devoured the bread, eyes darting this way and that, daring anyone to try and take her prize. None sought her out, for her existence was not known as of yet. She did this several more times, even daring to take food from under people's noses when their heads were turned. It caused some confusion, but none of the customers could tell what was happening, so they ignored it, most of them.

But there was one man, a big man to the young girl, who did notice. She avoided his attention and waited until he turned his head. She reached out a hand with confidence and gripped the bread in her hand. Before she could snatch it back, the man had her hand in an iron grip and called out loudly. "Thief! Thief! There's a thief in this Inn, and it's stealing my appetite." He sized her up and then called for a servant, anyone who would deal properly with this nuisance. "What a nasty creature you are, filth and muck and no shoes! Bah, probably some unwanted brat of some of the locals." The girl answered with a fierce glare and a small growl as she tried to twist her hand away. She couldn't be caught! But even more serious was the insult of this man! "Got some spirit I see, eh?" the man laughed. "A good belt would cure that for you!" He lifted his hand as if to cuff her across the head and she cringed instinctively. He thought better of his actions and growled in annoyance.

As she struggled in the man's grip, she wondered what they would do with a "thief" like her. She had seen other children face dire consequences when caught, but this place seemed to quiet for the things that she imagined. As the man used his other hand to lift a mug to his lips, she wrenched her arm as hard as she could, jarring the man's grip on the mug so that some of it spilled on his shirt. In surprise, he momentarily lessened his grip on her arm and it was enough. In fear, she turned to run only to find chairs and people in her way and tumbled unceremoniously to the ground amid the crash of chairs and the disapproval of the older hobbits. Refusing to face defeat without some sense of honor, she turned to face whoever it was that she was sure would be looming over her, ready to beat her for what had been an act of desperation, and gave her darkest, most defiant face she could. But what she saw surprised her.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:07 PM January 28, 2004: Message edited by: Lumiel ]

[Kransha]

Tobias turned from his leaning to look upon the new commotion. He caught only a glimpse of the fray, watching as an anonymous girl clamored about the room, fell, and got up again. He’d heard the loud and obnoxious voices behind him, so he had a relatively good idea what was going on. He took a brief glance at the newcomer and her oversized foe and relaxed again against the bar. He hoped that the brief chaos and distraction would give him enough time to snatch up some food for himself. He knew that, if caught, he would not be so frowned upon as such a vagabond, considering his status in the Southfarthing.

He pulled off his heavier cloak, which had been tightly wrapped around his sagging shoulders, and neatly folded it into a cloth bundle which he tucked studiously under his arm. He took another impatient breath, sitting down on an aging stool. He laid his hand out on the bar, slowly moving towards a loaf of bread, his fingers practically tip-toeing across the wooden surface. With his free hand, he adjusted his shirt collar and smoothed the wrinkles from his bright green vest ceremoniously, maintaining a façade of dignity. His head leaned sideways, towards the woman.

“Do things like this occur here often?” He whispered out of the corner of his mouth to the innkeeper behind him as he watched the girl and the man. He didn’t hold a very high opinion of such boorish and rude men, such as the one in front of him. Even though she had obviously tried to steal something from him, undignified behavior wasn’t justified by that. It momentarily occurred to Tobias that he was thinking hypocritically, but he ignored the thought and continued inching his hand towards the bread loaf.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:56 PM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: Kransha ]

[Eorl of Rohan]

Activity and conversation raged around the inn, and the maids bustled around taking orders. In fact, some strange thing seemed to be going on, involving a strange man and a girl. However, Ferethor was too deep in his sad thought to take notice.


"Even though the time of Darkness is past, orcs, Wargs and other evil creature prowl around the borders." Ferethor thought. "If soldiers of Gonder, in disguise, does not patrol the gates and defend this simple country, there would be no peace for these holbytlans to remain merry. Whither shall they flee from the oncoming dread if we did not protect them?"


But he was not appeased. He longed for the Gondor, and the majestical city of Minas Tirith where he was born. True - he had nothing there, only broken fragments of memories and the graves of his parents, but it was home.



He was immersed in his thought, keeping silent, that he did not notice that someone was talking to him.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:47 AM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis looked into her eyes more. Normally, he would have looked away blushing, and said something to ease the silence. But at this occasion, he did not feel that words were needed, and he did not feel embarrasment either. He and Ravon had gotten along very well, since he met her, this morning, and he now felt very strongly for her.

Suddenly Lewis' human instinct took over, and he turned his head. He looked at the venison, untouched on his plate getting cold, and he took a bite. He noticed that there had been some disturbance nearby, and he noticed that there were some Rohirric men nearby who he thought might have been involved.

"It's a shame that we must still fight against forces of darkness now, but it's a bigger one that we fight amongst ourselves." Lewis said to Ravon, commenting on the situation. He continued "Uh oh, that looks like Cree coming in the door looking kind of ill."

[Eorl of Rohan]

Ferethor, who haven't paid attention to anything that was going on, rose in some confusion and surprise as chairs crashed in a sudden turmoil. A little girl was trying to twist herself free from the wreckage of chairs and disapproving gaffers disturbed in their evening beer.


Ferethor guessed, from her clothing and unkept hair, that she must be one of the orphans left on the street to make their own living by her folk, as many children often are in hard times. Her purpose wasn't tooo hard to discern - hope for warmth and fod. Even as he approached, she turned her eyes upon Ferethor - defiant, unquenchable, the sorrowful expression of one introduced into the harsh world too soon.


Ferethor suddenly vividly recalled his own childhood. His mother, slowly fading from the desease that swept over Gondor. His father, once a famed healer, vowing that he will never heal again... And his death in the field of Calehedron, or Rohan, the land of Horse-lords.


Then, his makeshift to stay alive. Instead of thinking of only next meal and sleeping place, as too many orphans often did, he remembered his ancestry. Ferethor's only heirloom, slender elven-bow of his father, he never sold. Even though Illuvatar knows he had gone without food many days... Later, when his archery skill was sufficient enough to hunt for his life, the life was better. When he was admitted into Guard of the citadel, it was better still. But he has never forgotten his childhood days.


His face softened by the pain of remebrance and pity, he reached down and took her little hand. "Little girl, are you all right?" She did not seem very comfortable, but she made no effort to pull her hand free.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:48 AM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm took the herbs and bowed. He tasted them, they didn't taste very much. It tasted like eating grass. He took up his pipe and leaned back into his chair. He drew a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. Pictures of Rohan and the battle's he had been in came back to his mind. All the death and sorrow, and the fear. He could see his brother. Standing on the outer wall and commanding the archers to aim. Grimm thought it felt like having a nightmare, yet he wasn't dreaming.

Somebody shook his shoulder and he came back to reality. He opened his eyes and saw that it was Cree. He smiled to her and then lightened his pipe. Grimm then got reminded that Cree was about to leave next morning. He felt sad and his mood sank like a rock to the bottom of the ocean. "Lady Cree?" He asked slowly. "Why are you leaving tomorrow? Where will you go? Back to Eryn Lasgalen?" Cree looked up and said "Well..."

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

'Oh no!' shouted the man, 'I'll 'ave none o' that mollycoddling. She's got to LEARN!' He seized the little child again... Hama turned around just in time to see this. He stood up so quickly his stool crashed to the floor. He strode over to the man and caught his next aimed blow.

The man turned and looked daggers at Hama, but Hama had his wrist in a vice-like grip. He tried not to show his pain as he jerked free of Hama, and muttered as he slumped off to another corner of the inn. Hama stood there watching him darkly...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:08 AM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: Hama Of The Riddermark ]

[Eorl of Rohan]

Activity and conversation raged around the inn, and the maids bustled around taking orders. Ferethor was too deep in his sad thought to take notice.


"Even though the time of Darkness is past, orcs, Wargs and other evil creature prowl around the borders." Ferethor thought. "If soldiers of Gonder, in disguise, does not patrol the gates and defend this simple country, there would be no peace for these holbytlans to remain merry. Whither shall they flee from the oncoming dread if we did not protect them?"


But he was not appeased. He longed for the Gondor, and the majestical city of Minas Tirith where he was born. True - he had nothing there, only broken fragments of memories and the graves of his parents, but it was home.


He shook off his thought, dismissing them as 'brooding', and called for another ale. He'd stay the night, and then head for Eryn Lasgalen.


"Eryn Lasgalen..." He silently voiced the word. "It was named once Greenwood the Great. Then evil lurked in it's shadows, and it's new name was Mirkwood, a word to strike fear into all who heard it. Now it is named Eryn Lasgalen in Quenya."


Even though he was young, he felt his age slipping away. Elves played no more by the Greenwood the Great, and dwarves were few and seldom seen, adn even holbytlans avoid us with dismay.


Maybe, as the name of the forests were changing, so does the time. It was now the Age of Men.


"By Illu, I'll never get out of the habit of brooding." he said cynically, when he noticed that his mind was going in circles again.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:20 AM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: Eorl of Rohan ]

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal couldn't contain the coughs that were coming more rapidly now. She coughed, blood spurted out into her hands. She looked at them in horror and looked around for something to wipe them off on. She just couldn't let anyone see. She looked around frantically, but she couldn't find anything. She sat there with her hands out, not know exactly what to do.

Hama would find out. So would Angry now that she was sick. She hadn't wanted this. She wanted to be healthy. She had wanted to pretend that she was alright. She wanted a new beginning. She had finally found herself here, she didn't want to die.

But thoughts of dying, thoughts of seeing her mother and Arty again flew through her mind. Memories of her life began to flash. She just couldn't die now. Not when she had finally found the Shire, found Angry, found happiness once again. She didn't want to loose it. Everytime she became just a wee bit happy she lost it everytime and she didn't want that to happen now.

[Witch_Queen]

"Well I'm leaving tomorrow to try to find my actual father. Or atleast the person that killed the man I knew as my father. I had hoped that I would find him so long ago. But I gave up on hope the day he died. The day a part of me died." Cree began feeling sadness again. She had found someone she could talk to and now the next day she was leaving. "I'm never going back to Eryn Lasgalen. Though I miss my home, it wouldn't feel very home like anymore." She turned as she saw what seemed like Hama fighting with someone.

"I wonder what that is all about. Will you excuse me." She walked over to Hama and brought him back to the table. She noticed that the girl who tried to help her seemed in some type of pain. Soon very soon if she doesn't find any medicine she will die. I can see it in her eyes.

There was so much she could tell about someone just by what their eyes say. "Is it troubling that we must live life like it would end the next day." She knew who she had meant it for. Yet deep down inside she knew it was true.

All that is love can be taken away, yet the memories made will seem to stay. She who is dieing will not fade away,f or she is the daughter of many kings. Cree could feel a hand touch her. To her it seemed like some type of trance. She wasn't sure. "She's dieing." Cree knew that she was right. "If only my father was still alive. He would have known what to have done." Her voice was full of meloncholy. Her words seemed so far away.

Her gaze dropped to the floor and she thought another spell was coming on. I have to fight it. "I have many demons to fight. But she has only one and he is mightier than anything." She sent a glance at the girl. "For all that you hold precious you shouldn't give up yet."

Cree knew that she must have been sounding crazy. She figured that a bit of her "father" was coming out of her. She tried to force a smile but it was becoming hard for her to do that anymore.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon looked at where Cree was. "Indeed it does appear that she is in the middle of it all." She could figure that Lewis felt embarrassed or something. "Whats wrong? You seem as if your distant."

She was use to the feeling. Always she seemed far away from what was happening. She noticed Cree was saying something. She has a bit of her mother in her. Always talking in riddles was her father's traits. But he wouldn't kill anyone.

[Angry Brandybuck]

As Angry spoke to Mr Hamfast he seemed distracted by something. He kept on looking up with a worried expression on his face at someone who Halfred could not see. "Well, erm...Mr Hamfast, sir, I was just sat over by the bar with a friend of mine you see, and, well, I just thought to myself that it would be a mighty fine time to maybe, erm, sit and have a smoke, like"

Halfred eyed him suspiciously and indicated for him to continue. "But, you see I have already smoked the last bit of weed that I had and as a result, if you see what I mean, I didn't have anything left to put into my pipe. And then I saw you over here and I thought to myself 'Now, Angry, theres a man as discerning and respectable as the day is long. I'm sure if I ask him nicely, despite it not bein' his regular trading hours as such, he may have a pouch of Toby, or Longbottom an him that he might wish to share with you, for a price"

He hoped that Halfred would not notice where he kept on glancing and then look and see who he was so concerned about. He wished now that he had never come over here and stayed with Crystal, who obviously needed his help. It was too late, however, and any move of his to try and help her would mean Halfred seeing what he was 'up to'.

He waited in agony while Halfred thought about what he had asked.

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm looked down in the wooden table. He now felt sad as he knew that Cree was leaving tomorrow. Yet he shouldn't stop her trying find her father. He gasped deeply and was getting dizzy. He leaned back and looked at Cree. She didn't seem tired at all. Grimm saw Crystal standing and coughing. She really seemed ill. He didn't know what to do. Maybe he should see if she was allright. He leaned back in the chair thinking of what he should do. He looked at Cree and but he didn't know what to say. Poor woman, Grimm thought and his gaze turned to Crystal again. She was coughing and Grimm saw that she had blood on her hands. Grimm rose up and said a short 'Excuse me' to Cree.

He walked to Crystal and layed a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and Grimm could see that she was really ill. Her eyes was red and her gaze was sad. A tear slowly ran down her cheek. "Are you allright, my Lady?" Grimm said with a worried look. "You seem very sick." Grimm looked at her and she looked dizzy now, just like she was going to fade. She started coughing again and Grimm got more worried. Her hands were shaking.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:45 PM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: Fool Of A Took ]

[Witch_Queen]

Cree watched as Grimm walked over to the girl. It was becoming difficult to bring herself to leave the next morning. But she knew she had to. She finally got tired of setting there so she walked over to where Grimm was. "Its like I said a bit ago."

Cree couldn't remember what she had said. It was almost as if someone or something had talked through her. But the only thing was what was it. Crystal
She remembered the name. "She's in trouble. Someone get her something to drink." Cree looked to where Aman was.
"Aman does this girl have a room?" She saw the woman nod her head. Cree decided to take Crystal to the room she had stayed in. She turned to the men that followed and told them to wait outside.

"Crystal you have to tell me whats wrong with you. That way I can figure something out."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman raised an eyebrow at the hobbit leaning on the bar in front of her, although the gesture was, of course, lost on his back. And some instinct told her that he might be about as good at paying off credit as the scores of other hobbit men who had passed within the last two or three years and were thereby a blot on the Inn's accounts.

In answer to the hobbit's question, she figured she had to give some sort of reply. "Well, not so you'd notice mind, sir. But then, the Dragon isn't exactly your conventional Inn."

As she spoke, although she faced the commotion on one side of the room, her eyes were taking in Crystal, still seated with Angry, the hobbit she had taken a shine to, and now with Cree as well. Even as Aman watched, Cree stood, leading Crystal to the bar.

"Aman, does this girl have a room?"

The Innkeeper shook her head. "Not yet, but 't can be arranged." Crystal seemed about to say something before she coughed again, her handkerchief held over her lips, and Aman saw the speck of red appear on the other side. Her eyes widened for a split second and she handed Cree a key. "If you want somewhere to sit, here's the key to one of the empty maids' rooms, just down the side corridor."

Cree nodded and gently led the dazed Crystal away. The Innkeeper watched, concerned, but it was best not to get involved; Crystal had another to look after her for now, and as the saying goes, too many cooks...

Turning back to the hobbit still leaning nonchantly on the bar, she cleared her throat and he finally turned to face her. "Now...you offered to trade in exchange for a room? May I ask what?"

[Kransha]

The aged hobbit suddenly realized that he was being spoken to. He responded as quickly as he could by turning and continuing to search his person for something to bargain with. He only had one commodity of any value with him and had no idea how much it was worth.

“Pipe-weed,” he said very bluntly, “and lots of it. I’ve got best of the Halfling’s leaf in all the Southfarthing that I’d be willing to give up for some food and rest. I don’t know how much t’would be worth to you, but I assure you, there are many frequents of this fine establishment who would pay well to have some.”

Tobias Hornblower swelled with pride as he spoke, still fishing out various satchels filled with different varieties of pipe-weed. That, he supposed, was the one advantage of being a respectable member of the Hornblower family. His family back in Longbottom were the leading producers of Longbottom Leaf in the Shire, and he always carried around a surplus. He had roughly five or six small sacks filled with each kind of pipe-weed for every occasion and was known in the Southfarthing as someone who smoked at least a little too much, if not more.

He continued on before the woman could respond, “If that doesn’t work, I’m sure I have credit enough to serve for a one-night stay. A Hornblower never goes back on his word, after all.” Another lie, but he didn’t falter. Honesty wasn’t a virtue of his, but he was telling the truth about his word, which he valued (even though he often tried to find some loophole that would allow him to honestly shirk his bill).

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm nodded to Cree and went back to his seat. Cree and Crystal slowly begant to walk to Crystals room. Grimm took a sip of his ale and saw them walk away. Now what to do. Maybe he should go to bed. He didn't know if Cree would be back soon. He gasped again and then leaned back. He looked around him to see where Huan and Hama was, but he couldn't see them anywhere. He drew a deep sigh and fell into daydreams.

Grimm was getting more and more sleepy and could barely keep his eyes open wide. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus at staying awake. I can't stand this anymore, he thought, I must have some rest. He rose up and walked to the over to the counter where Aman stood and talked a hobbit. Grimm passed Hama and said 'Good night' to him. Grimm sat down on a stool and waited for his turn to talk with Aman so he could have a room for the night.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal coughed again, her hands in front of her mouth. She couldn't stop the blood. The people she had aided were asking her what was wrong, but in all honesty she had no idea.

"I do have a place to stay. With Mr. Angry Brandybuck," Crystal made out before she started coughing once more. The fit of coughing brought more blood out of her mouth. She showed her hands to Hama and blinked furiously, her world started caving into darkness.

"Tell Angry that I love him," Crystal said before her eyes rolled back and she started falling towards the ground.

The deep blackness held her, but she fought. Her mind kept moving like a fish upstream.

Her eyes flittered back open as she held on to the life that she could feel was trying to leave her.
"Angry?" Crystal asked, her unseeing eyes darting around the room. She couldn't see nor hear anyone that surrounded her.

A trembling hand grasped the necklace around her neck. The once beautiful metal was covered in her blood, glistening like an unspoken prophecy of what was to come.

[Eorl of Rohan]

Passing a hand over his brow, Ferethor was about to head to his room when he noticed a vaguely familiar person staring at him. Ferethor approached, and said pleasantly, "Can I help you?"


Off guard at the moment, he was striken with sudden shock and fear as the stranger asked bluntly, "You must be one of the guards of Gondor in stationary here." The holbytlan gaffers chatting by him suddenly put down their mugs, fell silent and looked at him in wonder.


Ferethor swore silently to himself. "By the Lady Varda Elbereth and Lord Manwe Sulimo, who is this stranger? How could someone in Bree, in Prancing Pony of all places, recognise me?"


Outwardly, he smiled. "What a ridiculous claim. What business will the tall soldiers of Gondor have to do with Shire, and Prancing pony? I'm just one of the southfarthing shriffs here." The hobbit gaffers went back to their mug, mumbling "1420s, this is!"


"I was about to head to my room, do you wish to accompany me?" Ferethor said. "Surely." He said.


"How did you know I was a soldier of Gondor?" Ferethor turned on him as the oak door closed behind them. "What do you know of my errand to the Shire?"


"I would know, since I'm one myself." He said, with silent laughter. "You've not already forgotten me, Thor?" IT was his tone, both wristful and merry, that betrayed his identity as much as the nickname.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:13 PM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: Eorl of Rohan ]

[Linnahiril Tinnufinwen]

Asphodel smiled, though she tried to conceal it, as her father gave Angry Brandybuck a glare as hard as steel. She knew him well; Halfred Hamfast never turned away a fair business proposition.

"Your mighty young to be smoking so much," said Halfred. "But business is business. How much are you willing to offer?"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" exclaimed Belladonna Boffin suddenly from the other side of the table. "He's a family friend, Halfred. Just give it to the lad!"

"Without any payment?" said Halfred incredulously. "Give him some of my fresh Longbottom Leaf, home grown on my plantation, hand picked just this morining..."

But he was too late. Hanna, who had removed the leather pouch of leaf from her father's coat and had been showing it to her aunt, walked shyly up to Angry, opened the pouch, and held some out to him with her small hand.

Asphodel watched as Angry quickly took the leaf, mumbled a bit of thanks, and left to go back to his table. Hanna had now retreated back to her own seat, face red as a ripe tomato, and hid herself behind her aunt's cloak. Asphodel smiled. Her sister definitely had a fancy for young Mr. Brandybuck.

Halfred said nothing. He simply grabed the pouch, which had been left on the table, stuffed it in his jacket, and shoved his pipe discontently back into his mouth.

"Well," thought Asphodel, "at least he didn't see Angry with the Big Folk."

"Perhaps," said Belladonna after a moment, "you should try growing vegetables, Halfred." She smiled. Halfred scowled.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:13 PM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: Linnahiril Tinnufinwen ]

[Eorl of Rohan]

"Hir? No it couldn't be. You are dead." Ferethor said, slowly and in wonder. "You perished in the passing of the marshes of the Dead." Ferethor realised that his fist was clenched upon the knife hilt and slowly undid it.


"Not yet," And Hirifilen grinned. "Though it was the merest of chances that brought me out alive." He went on, "This is a poor welcome indeed for your brother, Thor. but you've never had much of a curtsy."


Ferethor gasped, was about to speak, but only stared at his lost brother. "Thor, you've done well, I see. Captaincy of a regiment in one so young - and the trust and friendship of the king."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:47 AM January 28, 2004: Message edited by: Eorl of Rohan ]

[Imladris]

Finduilas: blind girl of Gondor

I set my lyre aside, my fingers brushing the strings. I didn't want to cease my practice, but Elentari had told me that the blisters on my fingertips had broken and that white water, mingled with blood, oozed from them.

A chill settled in my bones as a cold wind crept through the window. Crickets chirped, the coo of an owl on the hunt, the squeak of a rat scratching about in the walls.

I yawned and said, "I don't know about you, but I am goin got bed, Elentari."

She said goodnight to me and I heard the door softly close as she swept from the room. Groping my way to my bed, I curled up on the covers. It had been a good day...I had actually plucked a simple tune...an elvish tune

Snuggling under the covers, I wondered where Iris was. She could not be alone, sleeping under the branches of a tree with the dead leaves as a coverlet. I should go after her, and brave the stairs and the swarms of men still dizzy with drunkness of wine. But Iris could take care of herself: if she wanted to be here she would have been in the room already...

[SonOfBombadil]

"Whats wrong? You seem as if your distant." Lewis looked up to the question. "Oh, I am sorry. I must be getting tired." Lewis said in reply. Now that he thought about it, he was a bit tired. It had been quite a while since he had last slept. The amazing company of Ravon, had kept him going throughout the day.

He returned to the conversation. "I guess it is coming time for me to rent a room," he said, "and you too I suppose, you are staying for the night?"

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Crystal's eyes opened for her to find that she was lying on a bed in the sleeping quarters of the inn. Hama was in a chair next to her and was smoking a pipe. The rich smoke curled upwards from his mouth to the ceiling. "Where is the horse and the rider?" he said as he breathed out another mouthful of smoke, "Where is the horn that was blown? They have passed like rain on the mountains."he sighed. " The days have gone down in the West, into shadow"as he said the last words he looked up at the ceiling. He looked back at her and saw she was awake.

He smiled widely as he put a hand on her forehead. "Sleep, little one. I will be here" Hama unpinned his cloak pin and put it on the dresser, the then fastened his cloak to the two buckles on his armour. He reached out and attached the pin to her clothes at the neck.

" If it gives you half the luck it has given me, you will be safe for a terrible long time to come." He smiled again and then returned to his chair. He put the pipe back into his mouth and puffed on it again, letting the smoke curl slowly up about his face...

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal couldn't see, her eye sight was fuzzed. She only felt a hand of a man on her forehead and heard what he said.

"Thanks," Crystal breathed as her eyes darted wildly over the room.

"The hobbit, Mr. Brandybuck. Has he left?" Crystal asked as tears fell from her eyes. Her coughing started up again, adding to her sobs.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree left the room. It seemed that Hama had everything under control. "Hama I'll go fine this Mr. Angry. That is if she would like for me to do that." Cree walked out of the room and headed strait to find Grimm. She saw that he was waiting for a chance to talk to Aman. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "So your going to stay the night?"

She knew that everything for her would be fine. Once again she felt herself becoming dizzy. Now what? The room was beginning to spin and she didn't want it to happen again. Suddenly she felt what seemed like the floor of the inn hit her. Cree you shouldn't go on that journey alone with just him. You need others to go with you.

She began to cough almost as if she was choking but nothing was there. She came to and reached to her side where she noticed that she was bleeding. She could taste the blood in her mouth but it didn't want to leave. She looked at Grimm. "I'll let you find yourself a room." She began to stumble back to her set but felt the room spin.

Her knees became weak and she fell to the floor. She could hear a voice coming from somewhere but she didn't know where from. She was back in Eryn Lasgalen. She rememebered the council meeting she had snuck in to hear. But instead she wasn't herself. She was her father. She was reliving the day he died. Cree quickly tried to wake herself up. But she couldn't.

This isn't normal. Whats going on with me?

[Angel_Queen]

"Yes I'm going to stay for the night. First I need to find myself a room." She looked at Lewis. "So I guess we both should be finding ourselves a room. But I have enjoyed talking to you so much."

Ravon was beginning to feel tired. She had had a long journey from Eryn Lasgalen and it brought her this far. "I am almost afraid to go to sleep." She knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. "I just don't want to stop talking to you." She felt her cheeks becoming warm. "I'm sorry."

Ravon felt a cold chill go up her spine. Evidently I'm not the only one who doesn't want to end this conversation.

[Angry Brandybuck]

Angry ran quickly away from the Hamfast family, saying a quick thankyou, forgetting all worries he had about being villainised for talking to Crystal. AL he was worried about was Crystal.

Where was she? What was wrong with her? Why hadn't she said something to him earlier? Where had they taken her? What had they done to her?

He thought Hama, the Riddermarker, had gone to look after her so he was calmed a bit by that thought; he was a trustworthy man. Aman told him where they had put her and he quickly found the room (evidence of a long, mis-spent youth in all the inns around the Shire). When he entered the room was thick with rich smoke and lit by a single fallow candle.

"how is she?" he asked Hama in hushed tones, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

[Lumiel]

There was no man standing over her, ready to make her "learn" a lesson. There was no harsh-eyed woman ready to toss her out again into the night. Instead was a man with an extended hand, a friendly hand, that took hold of hers. As she looked into his eyes, she was struck by the intensity of them. Somehow, he knew her, or at least understood what it was like to be her. Her defiant face wavered for a moment as she was helped to her feet. As much as she disliked having to be helped, she knew when she should be thankful. "Thank you, sir." she said loud enough for him to her.

Then she disappeared amongst the crowd once more and watched from a distance. Curiosity of the man who had helped her overwhelmed her fear of retribution from any of the patrons and she stayed. Besides, it was warm. The man seemed lost in thought of something, and she wondered what he was thinking about. Later on he began a conversation with another man and she turned her attention elsewhere.

The lady who was ill, Cree was her name she discerned, seemed to have many who cared for her. Blessed and Cursed, she thought. Will I ever be Blessed? Or only Cursed? She pitied the woman. Whatever she was sick with was not a pretty thing. It seemed similar to what had taken her mother. But she didn't like to think of such things and crawled a little closer along the wall to the fire and curled up. The warm air and the a stomach with food in it made her drowsy and she tried to resist the embrace of sleep. She had no money and she was sure that she would be forced to leave when the Inn closed up for the night. Yet fight as she might, sleep overtook her and she dreamed of a home and memories taken too soon from her. When morning came, she would know the outcome of her stay and face the consequences. But perhaps she could find a place for herself here.

[Linnahiril Tinnufinwen]

"Where is that server maid?" said Halfred in an irritated voice. "I ordered our meal nearly an hour ago." He removed his pipe from his mouth and placed it on the table next to his empty ale mug.

"The Dragon is busy right now, father," said Asphodel. "I'm sure Miss Brownlock will be around shortly."

"Well I hope so," said Halfred, "for we've been here longer than any of these strange blokes!" He waved his hand around the room to indicate the Big Folk.

Asphodel signed. She wished now that she was back at her house, with her mother Primrose and her youngest sister Marigold. Primrose was probably making her Shire-famous sweet corn cakes right now. Asphodel closed her eyes and tried to imagine it; the warm, cheerful glow of the fire in the kitchen's iron stove, her mother in a pretty yellow dress and apron, removing the cakes on a wooden slab so she wouldn't burn her fingers. Primrose's sweet cakes were usually golden brown squares the size of a Hobbit's fist, and smelled like baking bread, except sweeter.

Primrose, however, was not the most famous cook in the Shire. Though her sweet cakes were always the best, Halfred's sister, Hilda Brown of Bagshot Row, could cook anything well. Asphodel rather envied her cousin Tolman, and her Uncle Holman, because her Aunt Hilda could take the simplest of recipes and change them into masterpieces. Asphodel half suspected she was magic.

"Well," said Asphodel's father suddenly, "it's about time. Thank you, Miss Brownlock. And could you bring me another ale?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:03 PM January 28, 2004: Message edited by: Linnahiril Tinnufinwen ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Pipe weed?" Aman replied, skeptically. She wasn't sure that this hobbit wasn't still bluffing. But he glanced around, and for a moment, the Innkeeper thought she saw some sort of truth there, or he was a better actor even than most of the customers who had tried to blag a stay.

She nodded once, smiling slightly. "Lets see a sample of what you have then. Good pipeweed never goes amiss in the Green Dragon Inn."

As the hobbit fumbled in his pockets, standing straighter now to allow him to do so, Aman glanced at him, taking him in briefly. She liked to have a face to talk to; it was easier to trust than the back f a head. As the hobbit was preoccupied, she turned to the man who had sat down on a stool a moment ago, patiently waiting his turn (a rare and welcomed pheomenum), and smiled warmly at him, her eyes absorbing him quickly. A soldier by his bearing and clothes and, if she wasn't very much mistaken, that was the crest of Gondor he wore on his clothes. He also looked almost dead on his feet.

"Good evening, sir, would you be wanting something to eat or drink or, as I suspect, a meal?" The Rohirrim Innkeeper grinned at him, tipping her head slightly to one side as she asked the question. Talk of Rohan could wait; this man looked ready to drop.

[Kransha]

The hobbit quickly drew several satchels of pipe-weed, each with a label that told what variety it held, and set them down on the bar as the innkeeper turned her head towards the man behind her. He didn’t wait for the woman to turn back, hopping off of the stool and inching his way backward. He assumed that he had put forth enough payment for a night’s sleep and some food. There were still plenty of pouches with him, to be used for his own devices, and he didn’t need the others.

Humming quietly to himself, he avoided getting too near anyone as he made his way into the depths of the inn to find a room. It had been a long day for him and he would look forward to some rest after the journey from Longbottom. As he passed, he took notice of the other inn residents in their various situations. Though some of these folk piqued his curiosity, he thought it better to avoid contact with them. Even though the innkeeper was nice enough, he stood by his belief that men from the south had no place in any of the four Farthings of the Shire. He grumbled about this under his breath as he tried to find an empty room. He would get something to eat after some well-deserved sleep.

Tobias Hornblower was a simple hobbit with the flaws that all hobbits had, as far as he knew. He was overly lazy, though his family business made up for that, and could be a bit buffoonish at times, usually after the event of smoking for too long. He did know, however, a little more about tact and cunning than many other hobbits in the Southfarthing, which had led his family and friends to believe that he might be a Brandybuck or a Took in disguise to get at all the weed in the Hornblower family stash. He had a particular disliking of outsiders which had surfaced within him after the Great War. He, being one of the older members of his family at the time, was the hobbit most angered when the Hornblowers’ pipe-weed was commandeered by the Shire’s “new management.” After that, he never showed any inclination of caring about foreigners and tried to associate with them as little as possible, even though they seemed to be everywhere nowadays.

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm gasped more loudly now and his head felt heavy and he would love to have pillow behind his head now. Grimm looked at the hobbit that stood by the counter. The hobbit fumbled in his pockets for something and he saw that Aman looked at him and smiled. He rose and walked over to the counter. "Good evening, sir, would you be wanting something to eat or drink or, as I suspect, a meal?" She said and smiled again. Grimm smiled to her. Then he suddenly remembered that she was rohirric. "Well..." he started but suddenly paused.

"No, I have already been eating and drinking a lot and now I am tired, I would like to have a room to stay in for the night, Lady of Rohan." He said and smiled. Aman's face now had an amazed look, he thought he was Gondorian but he talked to her in rohirric. Many rohirrims here, he thought, I never knew there would be so many.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman's smile creased her eyes as the man replied in Rohirric. She didn't speak the language much, even to the Rohirrim customers; the hobbits obviously didn't understand it (why would they? What need would they have to learn Rohirric of all things, really?), and the Innkeeper tried not to exclude others in cliques - she was just about accepted by even most of the older hobbits who were more set in their ways. But still, the fact that he had recognised her as one of the Rohirrim and used the her own language gave her a sort of absurd happiness.

"As you wish," she replied in the same tongue, still smiling, and retrieved the log book from under the desk. "Your name here please, along with a signature if you have one, the number of nights here - this can, of course, he altered - and your homeland, if you so wish." She shrugged. "It's mainly for interest's sake."

She pushed the thick, leather-bond book across the bar to him along with a pen from her pocket. As he began to write, she caught sight properly of the little pouches on the bar and fingered them idly, looking around for where on earth that hobbit had got to...

[Orual]

Rie, Erulon, and Irewnath

Rie sat down with Eruantalon and Irewnath, balancing three plates precariously. She set them down on the table with no little relief, and wiped her forehead dramatically with the back of her wrist as she sat down.

"I'm famished," she said, though it probably wasn't necessary. She ate about half of her food before she stopped and sat back in her chair.

She glanced at her companions, who were trying to look casual, but were probably a little impressed by the small woman's display. She laughed, sounding more than a little sheepish. "So, Erulon, it's, uh, been a while," she stammered. "Any interesting stories you've gathered?"

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal heard the reassuring voice of Angry waft through the smoke filled air. Her fuzzed vision cleared as she smiled.

"Angry," Crystal whispered as she held a small hand towards him. She felt secure and felt as if she would make it through whatever had taken hold of her. She was safe now and that's all that mattered.

And he was here, he had been worried. She could tell that in the features of his face. She smiled as she felt the tremble in his hand.

"Why Mr. Brandybuck I do believe you are trembling," Crystal said softly.