The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

It is night time in the Shire. The weather is fair; the stars are out

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Time has moved forward:

It is now a new day, early morning in the Shire.

[Lalwendë]

As soon as her supper was placed in front of her, Jinniver fell upon it greedily. She crammed a few chunks of the warm bread into her mouth and took a mouthful of the ale, spilling it onto her white scarf. She looked down at the new stain, annoyed with herself, and gulped down the food she had stuffed into her mouth so quickly. She coughed, straightened up, and began to approach her meal more delicately, remembering she was in company.

The ale was delicious, fruity with a strong scent of hops, and as good, if not better, than any she had ever tasted. She finished the drink before the meal, and looked over at the bar, wondering if she dared go up and buy another ale. She felt sure her father would not have approved; he had said so often that she ought not to go to The Prancing Pony in Bree alone, that she had convinced herself that he did not approve of her going into any inn alone.

The smell of the ale all around her was strong and yet again, that nagging little voice inside her, made more insistent by the addition of the beer, was goading her on. “It’s alright. Nobody knows you here. And besides, if those fine people can go and buy a drink then so can you”. She was worrying about leaving her table unattended, and now she had also convinced herself that the bar may close and she would be refused another drink, and then she would look stupid into the bargain. Laying down her fork for the moment, she stood up suddenly and in a rushing movement, went to the bar. She turned her head anxiously to check that the table was as it had been a few seconds before, and she almost stumbled into a weary looking hobbit who was waiting at the bar, and she felt her cheeks flush. “Oh, I am dreadfully sorry, sir” she said, then realising he might think she was drunk she turned to the bar herself, puffed her cheeks out and made a point of standing soberly, as upright and stiff as possible.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco Boffin had stood by his word, or run around, would be fairer to say, for a crowd gathered near the hearth fire to hear the tale Eodwine had promised to relate. The Rohirric king's messenger's cup had been refilled, and the crowd quieted. Eodwine began.

"The Mouth of Sauron was not destroyed at the end of the War of the Ring. He was wounded and weakened, but he survived. He fled Mordor and traveling north, passed Rhun to the east, the Iron Hills to the north and east, and the Grey Mountains to the north. He snuck past Carn Dum and settled among the northernmost of the Hills of Evendim. There he built his keep, and gathered hirelings, and spread his influence and power, such as it was.

"He spread his influence as far as the ruins of Annuminas on Lake Evendim, and Fornost to the east, and toward the Misty Mountains, the Ice Bay, and Ered Luin to east, north, and west. When the builders and masons came north from Gondor to rebuild King Elessar's home in the north, they were captured and imprisoned, serving as slaves to keep the Master's fields tilled and beasts fed. The Master he styled himself, but he kept another name closer to hand in his fortress. And if his slaves became useless or tried to escape, they were sent to the Master where a fate worse than death awaited them."

Eodwine took three swigs from his ale mug and glanced from face to face among the crowd, his own face dark with memories he was about to relate.

"I was the last of those captured, and my fate would have been the worst, for I tried to escape and failed, too weak to get far from my captors.

"And what fate could possibly be worse than death, you ask? I shall tell it this way. The Mouth of Sauron was no Ring wraith, but he had his life from the sorceries of the Dark Lord, for he was thousands of years old. When Sauron passed from Middle Earth, the Mouth of Sauron weakened almost unto death, but at last discovered a means by which he could survive, for lives of men. He drank the blood of living men. He built himself a black temple after the manner of the one his Master had erected on Numenor during the Second Age.

"In this temple he called himself Herugor, Lord of Horror. On a black altar he laid down his victims. He cut them at both wrists and ankles with a knife poisoned with a curse as well as potions to keep wounds bleeding open. The blood would flow and gather in a moat around the altar. Herugor collected the blood in a chalice, and drank the full cup down once each night. With spells, this drink gave him life for another day.

"The curse in Herugor's knife tied the ghosts of his victims to that temple. Herugor had enslaved a fallen Maiar, whose power was unguessed; but this evil Maiar fed upon the ghosts of the slain. This was the fate worse than death.

"And I was spared, for on the night I lay on the altar, Herugor's knife at the ready, Falco Boffin and Falowik Stonewort and Finëwen and others came to my rescue. Through Falco's cunning and stealth, and my desperation, and through the courage of these others, Herugor was wounded by his own knife and was himself devoured by the evil Maiar. Maybe that being dwells there still, we know not, for we did not stay. Dark is my tale, but it has a good ending, for Herugor, who was known as the Mouth of Sauron, has passed, as did his Master before him. Drink your ale cups with a good heart, for the Kings of the Fourth Age rule now, and another evil has been smitten to the core."

"Hear hear!" members of the crowd yelled, and raising their cups, drank a toast to the age of the Kings.

[piosenniel]

Drink your ale cups with a good heart, for the Kings of the Fourth Age rule now, and another evil has been smitten to the core."

"Hear hear!" members of the crowd yelled, and raising their cups, drank a toast to the age of the Kings.

Zimziran shivered in the shadow of the steps. She had come half-way down from her room at the top when she heard the man called Eodwine telling of his rescue from horrors unimaginable. And if his tale be true then to the north evil still lurked. Too close for her comfort. The fire’s soft shadows that danced round the room below her became darkened and sharp as small blades jabbing into the light. She closed her eyes and hugged her knees tight to her chest.

‘There were other Kings,’ she murmured, rocking herself gently to and fro, ‘now lost beneath the western sea.’ Images of tales her mother had told of men’s folly and greed returned to her. ‘Great Kings of men . . . and they were no proof against shadow when it had gathered its strength.’

Buttercup had come softly down the stairs and now crouched beside the huddled figure. Her hand reached out to the woman’s arm, drawing her attention outward from the dark reverie. ‘You look half scared to death, Zimzi! What’s got you all at sixes and sevens with yourself?’ The Hobbit peered down through the posts lining the edge of the steps; she had heard nothing of the story by the fire, but gathered that something had been said to frighten the poor woman. Taking Zimzi’s cold hand in hers she gave it a pat and called to one of the serving lads who passed by the bottom landing.

‘Matty, you run and fetch Mister Derufin . . . and be quick about it. Tell him his Zimzi has need of him.’

She leaned close to Zimzi, saying she would just sit here with her ‘til her Mister arrived. Then, standing up, she peered over the stair railing toward the fireplace and called in a loud voice to the crowd swigging their ales below.

‘Enough dark tales for a dark night, you lot! Has anyone a cheerful song to share with us now?’

[Amanaduial the archer]

"What about you, Buttercup? Let's have a song from you!" Aman called out over the sound of the ground, grinning at the hobbit. Buttercup whirled around to glare at the Innkeeper where she leant on the bar, but Aman simply winked at her. "Ah, g'on, Buttercup!"

The crowd soon picked it up. "She sings?"
"Aye, she sings. A fair sweet voice, Miss Buttercup Brownlock..."
"Let's hear a pretty song from a pretty hobbit lass - go on, Buttercup!"

The hobbit server cast a despairing look at Aman and her eyes flicked downwards as she inclined her head minutely towards the step below her. Aman frowned slightly in askance, and in reply Buttercup mouthed a single word. Zimzi.

Aman raised her eyebrows and turned to the crowd, straightening and holding up her hands as she came around to the other side of the bar until they fell quiet, the ready crowd ready for some event. "Hey, hey, all of you - 'fraid Miss Buttercup won't be singing then..."

There was a great 'awww!' from the crowd and laughter, along with occasional whoops of encouragement. Aman paused, catching the eager eye of her victim, then continued, and held the crowd in her steady grasp for a moment longer, a ringmaster of the highest degree. "...but don't forget, she isn't the only one in the Green Dragon who can beat out a fine tune."

"What, you'll be singing for us, Mistress Aman?"
"Well, that's one thing Pio never graced us with!" More laughter followed and Aman grinned and laughed with them, shaking her head.

"Not me! Why, have all of ye forgotten one of the fairest voices to this side of the Shire? For shame, all of y'!" Turning, she gave Ruby a boost onto one of the tables. "Ladies and gents, I present to you, Miss Ruby Brown!"

The clapping and sprinkled whoops from the crowd doubled and someone with a fiddle was jostled forward. After hasty whispered conversation with the fiddler, Ruby nodded, satisfied, and began to clap out a beat for the crowd, and Aman noticed the number of eyes she was deliberately catching in the crowd and the shameful amount of winks she was sprinkling over them - Cook would have her guts for garters if she could see! As the fiddler, a round face, basful looking hobbit tween took up his place next to Ruby and, readying the rather battered and patched darkwood violin, he began to play tentatively the first few bars of the song, the crowd sounded their approval again. The fiddler paused, then started up again with more conviction.

With all eyes on the musicians in the centre of the room now, Aman was safely out of the spotlight and she took a curved route around the side of the room to the stairs where Buttercup had sat down beside Zimzi, her little face creased anxiously. Aman folded her skirts up and took a seat on a few steps below, looking up at Zimzi as she reached out a hand towards the woman's where it lay limply in her lap. "Now, what's the matter, darlin'?" The woman's glazed, sad expression worried Aman and she rubbed the other's hand gently. "Zimzi?"

"Miz Aman?"

Aman turned at the voice to see Tom Cotton standing behind her unsurely. When he noticed properly that she was not alone, and took in Buttercup's worried expression, he flushed. "Oh...oh, s-sorry, I'll...I didn't realise you were busy, I was just wondering about...sorry, I'll go-"

"No, Mr Cotton, it's ok. One moment, please." She turned back to Zimzi and looked concerned into the woman's eyes again, then glanced at Buttercup and nodded approvingly. Standing, she straightened her skirts and came down to Tom, beckoning him over to the bar.

"You'll be wanting a room for the night, Mr Cotton? Aye, well, I think I may have something else to offer you..." Ducking behind the bar, Aman turned and straightened up, looking Tom up and down again as she withdrew the logbook from underneath the bar. Laying the thick, leather bound ledger carefully on the bar, she she leant forward onto the bar to be more at his level. "Tom, you said you had been looking for work as a gardner recently, and Uien was impressed with your knowledge - and she is someone who knows. And, well, we haven't had a steady gardener for some months now, although there is much that can be done with the Inn garden, so I was wondering - what would you say to becoming gardener at the Green Dragon Inn?"

[Umwë]

“What would you say to becoming gardener at the Green Dragon Inn?" Tom didn’t know what to say, he was both surprised and happy. Aman stood leaning over the counter looking down at him and smiling. He looked up at her and smiled. He stuttered “W-well, that w-would be an honor to b-be a gardener, f-for this Inn, m-miz Aman... t-thank you!” He blushed and looked down in the floor. This was maybe the best thing ever happened to Tom so he sat down on a stool standing close to him.

“I c-can start a-at any time, miss, I mean...” He paused and looked up, his hair tickled in his eyes again and puffed shook his head a little. Tom thought of his old father that once was a gardener, and Tom couldn’t wait to tell him. His hands were shaking and he felt a tear rolling down his cheek, he quickly removed it, he didn’t want Aman to see it. He snuffled and picked up his handkerchief, but noticed it was red of blood. He put it back in his pocket and snuffled again.

“Thank y-you, miz Aman. This means a lot to me... Aye..” He said and bowed deeply and almost hit is head in the counter. “I will not disappoint you!” He looked up and smiled to Aman and then bowed quickly again. This time he didn’t watch out and he hhit his head in the counter. “Ouch!” he exclaimed and took two steps backwards and rubbed his head. He giggled and walked to the counter again.

He took a look around himself and saw that many now were returning to their rooms, as it was getting very late now. And the common room was almost empty. He waved over to Anja and Ana that still sat in the corner together. They waved back, but Anja still looked concerned. Tom couldn't stop wondering what was wrong. He tried to not think so much about it and turned back again to Aman.

[Envinyatar]

‘Miz Zimzi needs you,’ panted Matty, quite out of breath. He had run from the Inn and spent several frantic minutes in search of Derufin.

Derufin grinned at the lad. His Zimzi needed him, did she? There was something in Matty’s face, however, that made the smile slip from the man’s face. And now he crouched down, a frown creasing his own. ‘Did she send you, Matty? What did she say?’

‘Oh. It weren’t her Master Derufin. It was Buttercup what sent me to fetch you. Miz Zimzi is sitting on the stairs. Had a spell of some sort I think. Miz Buttercup is sitting on the stairs with her.’

With no ‘pardon me’, Derufin took off sprinting for the Inn. Cook growled at him as he left muddy tracks across her kitchen floor and banged opened the door to the Common Room in his haste. The music and Ruby’s song barely registered as he made for the stairwell. Aman and Buttercup stood up and made room for him as sat down beside Zimzi. His arm slipped about her and he drew her head against the comfort of his shoulder, his free hand seeking hers.

‘What’s frightened you, my own dear heart,’ he whispered, pulling her into the circle of his protection.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

Anja waved back at Tom.I need to rest.She thought sleepily.She was overcome by a yawn that cracked her jaw.She looked back at Tom,who looked very pleased about something,and the inkeeper.Anja tried to remember the innkeepers name as she taped her fingers on the table.What was it....Ah yes,Aman....i think.....She yawned once more and and looked to Ana.

"Well,it's been nice to have you for company Ana,I appreciate it. Again,i'm sorry if I alarmed you with my behavior tonight. Well,it's getting pretty late,and I need to get some rest. So if you will excuse me."Anja got up and streched."Oh,and thank you for the bread.Good night,perhaps we shall meet again in the morning."

Anja walked away from the table and towards Tom and Aman."Pardon me,"She said,nodding to Tom in greeting. She grinned at him. His face was full of delight,and whatever had happened to him to make him so happy,Anja was glad of it. She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned to the innkeeper.

"If there are any left,I would like to have a room for the night,please."

[Lalwendë]

The room was very smoky and warm and Jinniver was sitting back in her chair feeling contentedly full and very sleepy. She had bought herself two ales at the bar, to avoid going through the trauma again. She had wondered whether two would be enough, yet it was a little too much, as the ale was a strong brew. A tiny vein in her forehead throbbed and the inn seemed very noisy all of a sudden.

She had spoken to three old gaffers on their way out of the pub. They had stopped by and bought several bunches of her flowers, “Probably for their wives, so they may hope to get away with coming home so late and so merry“, thought Jinniver. They had smelled very strongly of drink, and one had held onto the table throughout, as though he might fall to the floor at any moment. With a little of the money she had made, she bought some sweet smelling pipeweed, which she was now enjoying.

A man standing by the fireside was relating a tale to a crowd gathered around him. It was not hard to hear him, but Jinniver leaned forward all the same, as it was a dark story concerning the northern lands, away up the Greenway. He told the tale with a look of horror on his face, and she was fascinated. She loved to hear such stories; her father had been fond of reciting them, particularly on stormy nights, but since the dark days he much preferred a comic rhyme or a tale of romance.

Jinniver had missed these thrilling tales and rhymes. When the man mentioned the cursed knife she jumped, and seeing her old dagger lying on the table, pulled it back towards herself. She kept tight hold of the dagger until the story ended, scared, yet excited at the same time.

She was one of many who toasted the man when his story was through. Enlivened by the toast to the kings, the crowd was soon calling for a song, and Jinniver wished she was bold enough to offer up one of the old verses she knew. She went a little red at the thought of standing up in this room, but thankfully a few of the hobbits struck up a song. She sat quietly, savouring the sights and sounds of the inn, as the time would soon come to sink into that feather bed.

[piosenniel]

‘Naught that you can protect me from,’ came the muffled reply. Zimzi raised her face and pulled a little away from him, so that she might look him in the face. A little color had come back into her cheeks, and a little warmth to her hands, now, as he took them between his own and chafed them gently.

‘Then what I might I do for you,’ he returned.

‘Help me up, if you will’ she said putting one of her hands on the banister as he stood with her other grasped firmly in his. She peered down toward the table where Eodwine and his gathered group sat, listening to the music and song. ‘Do you see that man down there?’ She directed Derufin’s attention to where Eodwine sat, a mug in hand. In quick words she gave an outline of the story he had told.

‘It should have made me glad that he was rescued by those brave companions. And indeed I do rejoice that he lives and Sauron’s minion is vanquished. But it chills me to the very bone that another being of some power, one of the maiar he said, was corrupted and still lives. And quite possibly just north of the Shire. What fell schemes might that one weave, who has all the time in Arda to concoct them.’ She shivered a little at the thought. ‘If we are to live here and raise our family, I would that our time and theirs be marred only by the little ills that come into one’s life naturally.’ She looked him gravely in the eye. ‘What could be done to make our children and their children safe? How will we know that the evil he spoke of is truly defeated?’

‘Let me speak with Uien,’ he said, taking her concerns seriously. ‘And I’ll see what I can learn from Eodwine and from Falco.’

She looped her arm through his and went down the steps. At the landing, they spoke briefly with Buttercup, who’d been called away to see to the needs of the crowd. She was relieved that what black mood had struck Zimzi now seemed to have left her for the moment.

Derufin opened the door to the kitchen, ushering Zimzi through. He was about to take a step in, himself, when the loud command stayed his entrance.

‘I just finished mopping the mess you made on your way in, Stablemaster!’ came the irate voice of Cook. She leaned on the rag mop handle, a bucket of dirty water near her feet and glared at him. ‘You keep your muck and mire in the stable where it belongs!’ She cocked her head and pointed a finger at his feet. ‘Now you just be taking those boots off now if you intend to step foot in my kitchen!’

Zimzi smiled and bit back a comment of her own. ‘Best do as Mistress Vinca says, Derufin. Or you’ll have to take the long way round for a cup of tea. And even then we’ll be sitting on the back step to drink it.’

[littlemanpoet]

Uien was seated next to Falowik. Eodwine's story had brought the memory back to her in all its painful horror. She had not been there in body, but in spirit. It was an evil memory, and the death of Lira made it more poignant. She pressed Falowik's hand and their eyes met. His looked into hers with relief and happiness. She smiled.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching from the kitchen. It was Zimzi, who made her way through the crowd and came to Uien. Uien greeted her and made room next to her for Zimzi to sit down. Zimzi sat next to her and smiled, but there was the shadow of a haunting in her eyes.

"Are you well, Zimzi?"

"Yes," she nodded. But when she met Uien's eyes, her face changed and the fear was writ there for Uien. "Master Eodwine spoke of an evil Maiar still lurking in the north. Is it so?"

"My fëa was there, Zimzi." Uien held her eyes. "With the eyes of my fëa I saw that Maiar take the Dark Lord's former servant into itself, then fade into the east. It left us. I know not where it went."

[Envinyatar]

‘There you are!’ Derufin juggled two mugs of tea, a pot of honey, and a small plate of walnut and spice cookies. ‘’Cook decided she wanted another swipe at the kitchen’s floor with her mop. So, she’s piled up “something to tide you two over” into my arms and hands, and I’ve been doing a balancing act looking for you.’

Zimzi rose from her chair and took the plate of cookies, teetering on the honey pot out from under Derufin’s chin. Next came the pot, and Uien’s hands reached up to take it. Her eyes lit up at the liquid gold hidden within, recalling her first encounter with it at Cook’s table, long ago . . . or so it seemed.

‘If I’d known you were sitting here with Uien, I would have brought another mug for her.’ Uien reached behind her, picking up her own mug of tea from the table. ‘Well, then, share our cookies with us,’ he said grinning.

‘I asked her about the maiar that Eodwine spoke about.’ Zimzi put her hand lightly on Derufin’s forearm. ‘She tells me that she saw the maiar flee into the east.’ Uien nodded her head as Zimzi spoke.

Derufin shifted in his chair so that he could look Zimzi in the face. ‘And has what she said resolved your fears?’ He put the fingers of one hand beneath her chin, tilting it up so that he might see it fully. His brown eyes considered the deep grey of hers. They held no clouds as he could see, but the shadow of a frown creased her brow lightly as she answered.

[Eruantalon]

Beginning to feel hungry he realized he hadn’t eaten yet. A young boy plops down off his hoarse and walks into the Inn. Leaving his horse at the rear of the Inn he tied her up to a tree branch. He had to remember to get it water later.

Finding a table by an open window he sits down into his new seat. With his hands held together patiently he saw food being served all around him and waits. Eye brows perking up with each tray that passes. Cheese, bread, meats, and all types of drinks are being served.

The boy is wondering if he has enough money for something. If he hadn’t been in town spending his hard earned money all day he would have had something left. Tomorrow was his mothers birthday and although they where humble farmers. He saved up for an especially beautiful present for her.

[piosenniel]

A small frown creased her brow as she considered his question. Perhaps she was just being foolish in her concern over the escaped creature. Still Sauron had been a maiar, a creature of light at one time, and look at all the suffering and destruction he had caused with his evil ways. ‘It is the lot of us Younger Children of Iluvatar to struggle against wickedness,’ she said, half to herself. ‘We are more easily swayed by its promises, I think.’

She shook her head lightly, the lines of worry slipping from her face as her gaze slid over Uien’s sweet face and came to rest on Derufin. ‘I’ll take Eodwine’s story as a reminder to remain watchful. That’s how I will resolve those fears. They are real enough, I think; shadow will always grow larger where light does not shine on it. This last war was only one battle in a long line of struggles, and not the last. That’s how I will think of it.’ She placed her hands in his. ‘We will have a pleasant and long life in the Shire, you and I. With many children and scores of grandchildren to lean on when we are bent and old. A pleasant life . . . but we will stay watchful . . . and teach them all to be watchful, too . . .’

Uien laughed, a clear bright sound, and gave both Derufin and Zimzi a quick kiss on their cheeks. ‘A promise to you both,’ she said, ‘wherever I find myself, I will be watchful, also.’

A firm voice broke in on their little pact . . .‘Your tea’s a bit cold, you three . . . Cook’s sent me round with refills. Buttercup gathered up their cold mugs and placed them on her tray. ‘Here’s a fresh mug for each of you. Now eat those cookies or Cook’ll think something’s gone wrong with them!’ She passed the plate to each, eyeing them until they’d each taken one. ‘Things always look better with a full stomach. Or so my Gran always said. And I’ve found it to be true!’

The Hobbit hurried on to the next table, her skirts swishing around her legs in her retreat. Behind her came the sound of laughter as they watched her go . . . and the sound of teeth crunching on cookies . . .

[starkat]

After a period of silence, Gwenneth realized that her companion had fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake him, she pulled out a sheet of paper. The elf wrote him a short note telling him good night and then got up from the table.

Gwenneth walked over to an empty table and signaled to the hobbit. The elf maid asked for another glass of tea and then turned so she could watch the others in the room.

[piosenniel]

Notice of Coming Time Change in The Green Dragon

Everyone please begin to wrap up your night-time posts – day after tomorrow (about 36 hours from now), I am moving the Inn onto the next day’s morning.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[starkat]

Gwenneth had finished her second cup of tea and was just thinking about her visit from her brother. Realizing that she was about to fall asleep where she was, the elf maid stood and stretched.

She headed out to the stables for a quick check on her horse. After seing that Elenath was happy, Gwenneth headed to her room. Her family still on her mind, she tossed and turned for a few moments and then fell asleep.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine looked around at the others, and at the thinning crowd. "Friends," he said after a moment of deep ale-belabored thought, "has anyone bothered to check to see if there were rooms available?"

Falco Boffin gave Eodwine a stricken, wide eyed look. "By my old gaffer's last eye tooth, I think not!"

"Perhaps we should see to it," answered Eodwine, his tongue massaging the words lazily.

"Be my guest," said Falco."

"Master Falco," Eodwine leaned forward and gave him as steady a look as he was able, "that is my point. We are nobody's guest, just eaters and drinkers so far."

Falowik chuckled, having kept a more or less clear head until now. "Uien and I will see what we can find out, my friend."

"My thanks, Master Falow-hic! 'Scuse me."

Falowik and Uien left Eodwine, Falco, Gorby, Anson and Finëwen in various states of drowsing, and sought out Aman.

[Envinyatar]

The night was quiet as he walked toward the stables. An occasional nighthawk’s cry could be heard against the dark sky, and the pattering of small feet through the grasses near the garden as some small animal helped itself to the Inn’s bounty. Derufin reached the stable doors and stepped into a soft puddle of muted gold . . . the light from the small lamp, turned low, hanging just inside the entryway that Merrimac had left for him.

‘No need for this, now,’ he thought turning the wick down and blowing gently across the glass chimney. The moon had risen, waxing halfway to full, and shown in through the open skylight above. It was enough light for him to find his way back to his old room. And, indeed, were it dark as pitch, he could have walked the way through the stables without stumbling . . . so familiar was the place to him.

To his right, set along the long wall were the work areas – tools, shoes, nails, leather, medicines; all manner of things to make the stay of the horses and ponies a good one as they waited for their masters. To his left were the stalls, only half-filled this evening, most of the patrons at the Inn being locals. Horses moved in their stalls as he passed; he called out in a low voice to them, calming words of reassurance. Young Merrimac, the stable-boy, was already asleep in the right hand room at the back of the stable. He turned, sighing in his sleep, lost in some dream.

Derufin turned left into his rooms. Ruby had obviously come out and tidied them up for him while he was in the Inn. There were fresh linens on the bed and a small post of flowers from the garden on the table where the lamp stood. Towels were on the dresser top, as were a clean cup and a small ewer of water. He sat wearily on the bed – it had been a long day of travel. Stripped down to his small clothes he tucked himself beneath the covers, relishing the feel and smell of fresh sheets. Light scents of lavender clung to them from the lavender sprigs hung in the linens’ closet each week.

His window, to the left of the bed was opened, and he could just hear the far away croaks of the frogs at The Pool. One arm tucked beneath his head, he lay staring into the darkness. ‘Only a week,’ he smiled, ‘and I will have my dear heart here beside me . . .’

[piosenniel]

Notice of Coming Time Change in The Green Dragon

Everyone please begin to wrap up your night-time posts – tomorrow (about 12 hours from now, my time), I am moving the Inn onto the next day’s morning.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[Lalwendë]

Jinniver tapped the ash from the bowl of her pipe into an earthenware basin on her table, and took a scrap of old cotton from one of the pockets on her belt. She carefully wiped the pipe clean, and yawning, put it away. She had already been out for a few minutes to see that her cart horse, Nutkin, was stabled comfortably for the night, and finding him sleepily chewing what looked like the finest hay in The Shire, she was content. After taking a canvas bag from her cart, she had gone back indoors to enjoy a little more pipeweed before bed.

It was now very late, but she had been enjoying the stories and music of these strangers and had been resolutely fighting the urge to sleep. Now she could fight no longer and decided to make her way to bed. As she stood up, her knees cracked and she winced. This was the result of many years spent kneeling on the cold ground to tend plants and although she was used to the cracking noise, when she stood up after a long time sitting, there was also pain.

Her room was easy to find, and going through the door she ducked, expecting it to have a low ceiling, to be built for hobbits. She was surprised when she found that the room was as high as any she was used to, and that the bed was larger than any she had ever seen. Pressing it lightly with her hand and finding that it was even softer than she had hoped for, Jinniver pushed the door to and began to change into her nightclothes quickly. She removed the yellow rose from her hair and loosened the four thick braids so that they fell down her back, but she did not undo them any further, as she was now too tired for any more fussing about.

Blowing out her candle, she crawled between the cool linen sheets. A moth that had fluttered into the room with her, following the dim candlelight, flew madly about, now trapped for the rest of the night. He made for the window where the moonlight was streaming in, his wings beating uselessly against the glass. Jinniver didn’t notice the creature and she stretched out, savouring the feeling of comfort for a moment before she turned over and fell into a deep sleep. Under her pillow she had placed the black dagger.

[Eruantalon]

A farmer’s life was not an easy one to say the least. But all this going about town didn’t seem any easier. Never in his life had he seen so many different people around him. He was filled with excitement and wonders at all the faces.

There seemed to be an Elf in the inn. This was a miracle to him. He kept trying to see who was coming and going. “People seemed so busy that a small boy could go unnoticed here!” He thought to himself. But now as the time waned and the day took its toll on him. He found he didn’t need food or rest as much as the faint soft breeze from the window.

The fragrance was sweet and mild and put some enchantment on him. Because soon it seemed he had fallen asleep. There he lay no more than fourteen years old. He was two thirds as tall as an average man. But he had wispy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He was pale and thin but not from a lack of food. It seemed he ate all the time but never really got any heavier.

Lulled by a soft breeze and twinkling stars. He drifted into a wonderful dream. It would be a surprise if he didn’t start smiling in this state. But for now he seemed content.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

"You know what?On second thought,I desire to sleep beneath the stars tonight."Anja said to Aman.She nodded to Tom and the inkeeper,and walked away. As she walked towards the door,she noticed a young boy,about three years younger than her,asleep on a table by the window. She stared at him for a while,then continued to walk outside.

A few minutes later,she layed on her back on the lush grass outside of the inn,near the stables. Her pack was lying next to her and she took out a blue handled dagger. She couldnt remember where she got it,but whenever she saw it,a proud feeling rose up in her.She put one arm behind her head and the other under her cloak,which she placed over her as a blanket,holding onto the dagger. She was a little frightened sleeping outside,she felt like something bad had happened to her on a similar occasion,but her father had always said to overcome your fears.....

He had said that?.....YES!He had!She had remembered something else!
With a smug smile on her face,and the stars smiling down on her,she fell asleep.

[piosenniel]

Cook, of course, was the first one up in the morning. It was good to be back in her own kitchen! Up early, she had started the dough for the day’s bread, and made the apple pies that would grace the tables for lunch. A large pot was set on the hob to bubble away as the stacks of chicken and taters and vegetables, fresh from the garden, all cut bite size, were put into it. Chicken soup, it would be, with hot, thick crusted bread for lunch. The pies and clotted cream would round out the menu.

She was just dropping a bouquet of bay and rosemary into the soup, when Buttercup came stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing her still sleepy eyes. Without a word she began to set up the trays to be taken out to the tables for the first meal of the day – breakfast. Plates, mugs, and eating utensils first. Then, pots of sweet cream butter, pots of blackberry jam and those of honey were set out first, along with small silvered pitchers of cream for tea. The teapots, themselves, were all lined up along one counter in the kitchen, fresh leaves awaiting the hot water, just off the boil, to bring out their aroma and flavor.

Ruby, by this time, had dragged down the stairs, mumbling as she entered the kitchen that she needed a cuppa strong, sweet tea first . . . then she would start the thick sliced, Shire ham and fried taters in the big iron skillets all greased and waiting. Several dozen eggs were cracked and whipped to a frothy concoction, ready to be scrambled for the hungry patrons.

Even Derufin did not escape the direction of Cook after he had come into the kitchen seeking some tea before he saw to the horses. ‘The horses can wait a bit,’ she told him. ‘I’ll just slice the bread. You get it onto the toasting forks and fill up these baskets here.’

The kitchen soon was humming with a quiet energy. Eggs, ham, and taters sizzled in their pans; toast turned a golden brown; tea from the southlands sent its steamy fragrance sliding among the others.

When all was ready, the serving girls working that morning loaded up platter with plates of the various foods and distributed them to the tables. Eager customers helped themselves to the bounty and ate until they were well satisfied; then, sat back and sighed, and ate a little more.

[Firefoot]

Lily awoke refreshed and relaxed after a deep restful sleep. She was ready for the day to begin. She pulled on a patterned blue dress, simple but well made. Her hair was pulled into a secure braid. She then headed downstairs, quietly so as not to wake those still asleep.

There were a few people in the common room already, despite the early hour, eating breakfast that was set out on the tables. Lily's mouth watered at the scent of eggs, ham, and taters. She selected an empty table and sat down. She tried not to eat too fast, but she was incredibly eager to get out to the stables and begin her planned ride with Posco. Just the thought brought a smile to her face. When she was quite full, she pushed back her chair and walked outside. The day was beautiful: warm, with dew still coating the grass, and golden beams of early morning sun covering the land. She enjoyed the short walk to the stable, and once she got there found her pony, Clover.

"Hey there," she said to him, stroking his soft nose. "Ready for a ride today?" Clover nickered as if in assent and tossed his head. Lily smiled. She walked down the aisle and found her tack much more easily today, now that she knew where it was. She saddled up Clover and walked him outside to wait for Posco.

[starkat]

Gwenneth awoke to the sounds of birds outside her window. Being one who woke early and easily, she got up and got ready for the day.

Instead of wearing another dress, the elf maid had chosen to wear her riding clothes. They consisted of a dark, forest green tunic and tights to match. Her high boots were a rich brown colour and extremely comfortable. Gwenneth spent a few moments braiding her hair and headed downstairs.

Before she reached the bottom, Gwenneth could hear the sounds of cooking in the kitchen. Wonderful smells were coming from the same area. The elf avoided the common room for the moment and headed ouside to the stables.

Since it was still early, Gwenneth opened the stable door quietly and headed for Elenath's stall. Seeing that her mare was happily munching on hay, she walked back to the inn.

She entered the common room and found an empty table.

[Kitanna]

Peony was up before Deva the next morning. She dressed and went down to have some breakfast. The two were making plans to leave sometime before lunch. Hopefully Deva was up sometime before lunch.

Peony took a seat at a table in a far corner. She would sit there, eat, and think for a little while. There were few other people in the common room. That suited Peony just fine, she would be able to hear her own thoughts better.

In a few minutes Peony would go get some breakfast. She felt it too early to eat and she wasn't even all that hungry.

[littlemanpoet]

The seven travelers gathered in the common room for breakfast. Eodwine held his head in both hands, his elbows on the table. Falco was snickering at him.

"Master, Eodwine, you need to learn to handle your ale better."

"What would you expect, Master Falco, of one who has been starved and almost gutted in recent weeks. Ow! And keep your voice down. Heavens above, I do not even know where I slept last night."

"Nor do I," Falco replied, "come to think of it. What of the rest of you?"

"I cannot remember a thing about sleeping," Falowik admitted. "We must have done so, for here it is morning! And I feel refreshed!"

"And there Ruby and Buttercup are already about the day's business," Gorby put in.

"We must break our fast soon," Uien said, "for we must be off to catch up with Eswen and Lumiel."

"Aye."

"What," groaned Eodwine, "do they have for a strong morning drink to calm one's throbbing scull?"

Falco rose. "I will have a talk with Buttercup," he announced, and walked off to the kitchen.

[Envinyatar]

Cook was sitting at the small table in the middle of the kitchen when Derufin returned from the stables. He’d set Merrimac to cleaning out the stalls, after leading the horses and ponies out to the large fenced pen beneath the oak tree. Breakfast was well under way, and he grabbed a plate for himself, filling it with eggs and four slices of toast. He plopped himself down in the chair opposite Cook and poured himself a steaming mug of tea.

‘You eat like a Shire lad!’ said Ruby, nudging him on the arm as she passed through the kitchen with a tray of eggs and ham for those coming into the Common Room. Derufin grinned at her, mumbling around a mouthful of eggs, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you!’ He reached for the pot of gooseberry jam and spread it thickly on his toast.

‘Imzi’s not come down yet?’ he asked Cook, who sat with her feet up on a nearby chair. She was busy making a list of some sort, her quill flying over the paper. ‘What?’ she asked, looking up with a frown on her face. ‘Oh, Imzi . . . no, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her this morning.’ She gave Derufin a considering look. ‘Leave the poor lass alone, you hear. Let her sleep in. I’ve plans that will keep her busy for the rest of the week.’

Derufin gulped and craned his neck trying to see what was on Cook’s list. Naught but to do it, he cleared his throat and spoke in a firm voice. ‘I hope my name is not on your list, Mistress Vinca,’ he began in his most charming manner. ‘I have my own plans for the week. The old caretaker’s cottage at the end of the property . . . I was hoping to . . .’ His explanation was brought to a halt by an exclamation of approval from Cook and the sight of her crossing off a section of her list near the beginning.

‘Excellent, my dear,’ Cook said, patting him on the arm. ‘I’ve sent for some of the local lads – the ones good with hammer and saw and that sort of thing. They should be here just before second breakfast. A promise of food and drink and a dance with Buttercup at the end of the week and they were more than willing to come.’

‘A dance with Buttercup? End of the week?’ It was Derufin’s turn to frown.

‘Why, the handfasting. As soon as Zimzi’s family arrives we’ll get to it! I have it all planned and well in hand.’ She stood up and whisked away his nearly finished breakfast. He started to protest, but one look at her steely eyes was enough to know it would be no use.

‘Now out you go,’ she said, pushing him toward the back door. ‘Get your tools and ladders out to the cottage; the lads are bringing a wagon load of lumber. We’ll need to get the repairs done in the next few days – the girls and I will be wanting to do a bit of decorating, you know . . . before you and the missus move in.’

Derufin’s head was awhirl with Cook’s instructions as he strode across the back yard of the Inn, heading toward the old cottage near the pond at the edge of the Inn property. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of four strapping Hobbit lads in a long wagon turning up the path to the Inn. Two sturdy Shire ponies pulled the lot, the bells on their harness jingling merrily.

[Eruantalon]

The sound and sent of fresh food lingered in the air like a dew greeting the boy. He awoke with a smile hearing and smelling ham, tatters, eggs, toast and all manner of breakfast being made. He quickly rushed off to his horse who he had forgotten the night before.

Stumbling into the summer morning sun, he found his way around the back of the inn. His horse seemed tired from the long ride the night before. He took it to the stables where he saw an Elf maiden caring to her horse as well. She didn’t even notice him around the stable. He could be quit and quick when he wanted to be. He thought she looked so fair in the morning light. Now he saw her more closely than he did the night before. He set his horse into the stabl,e and made his way out after he got the water he had promised the animal.

He was almost out of money this morning. Just then he remembered! His mom made him put some gold coins into a little pouch in his boot. Just incase he was robbed he could at least get back home. He only had one gold coin, but that would be enough for a large breakfast. He must have forgotten it in his weariness the night before.

Entering the inn he saw inn keepers going back and forth. He sat down at his old table and waited. This time as soon as he got there he was greeted with good food. And there was so much of it! He set the gold coin on the table and got ready to eat. The girl smiled at him and asked his name.

“I’m Boffer Hornbottle. Thank you so much for all this wonderful food. I really did need it! Be sure to come out with toast and sweet tea when you can? Thank you again.”

Eating away he saw all different kinds of people around him in the common room. A lady who it seemed was even hungrier than him! She kept trying not to eat quickly but it seemed a lost battle. One lady seemed so lost in thought at her table. He wondered what was in her mind while he ate.

Then there was the cook hurrying around so concerned on getting the food out to everyone. There where several men at a table. One who it seemed drank too much ale the night before. He finished his breakfast with aplomb. Smiling all the while he ate away all the food on the large dish. Bite after bite only seemed to make him happier.

When he was done he waited for the lady to bring him sweet tea and toast. While he waited he thought about how happy his mother would be when she saw his extra special present. She didn’t know about him helping out the miller on weekends. He would run off to the mill and help him carry thing from here to there. Just taking orders and doing what the miller told him. But at the end of the day he had four copper coins. After a whole month he now had enough for what his mother always deserved but never got a taste of.

He had a little corner of luxury for some one who gave so much. She never thought of herself and always gave even when she didn’t really have it. All these things ran through his head while he enjoyed the sunlight stream down on him and his breakfast.

A tall figure walked down the towards the inn. He paused a bit as he took note of the morning activities. Brushing a hand through his long brown hair, Mulawin opened the door. The smell of food greeted his nose and he realized he was famished.

Having only paused to rest along the road at night, he'd travelled from the Ford of Loudwater to meet up with Thanatos. He had dallied a bit along the road and had been unable to reach the Inn last night. Looking about the common room, he did not find the person he was looking for.

He sighed, so unlike a ranger, thought Mulawin to himself. He smiled slightly as he walked over to the corner and sat at an available table. Thanatos would likely arrive if not late in the afternoon, then tomorrow.

Mulawin placed his traveling bag and unslung bow to one side. The serving maid approached with a smile and promptly gave him his meal, pausing to ask his name and welcoming him to the Green Dragon Inn.

He slowly began to eat as he took note of the inn's patrons.

[starkat]

Gwenneth was just about to order when she noticed a newcomer with long brown hair. She thought about getting up to say hi, but a group of seven drew her attention.

She watched them for a few moments. Gwenneth then got up and walked over to the newcomer. "May I join you?"

[InklingElf]

SAVE for reworked post.

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InklingElf

Check your PM's please.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[littlemanpoet]

"Strong tea will have to do," Falco announced as he came back and sat down at table next to Eodwine.

"Oh, very well," Eodwine moaned.

"Come come, Master Eodwine," said Uien, "the tea here is very good! It will do you well."

"Master Eodwine," Falco said, "if you keep up this caterwauling, I'll make sure King Eomer himself hears of it."

Eodwine grinned sourly, pushing his blonde hair away from his brow. "Right you are, right you are. I am behaving in a very bad manner for a veteran of the Rohirrim. So, then, where are we all off to once we have broken our fast?"

"I'm with you, Eodwine," said Falco. "I want to see the world."

Gorby and Anson were looking forward to getting back to Buckland to be reacquainted with family. Uien and Falowik would be following the East Road toward Rivendell, hoping to catch up with Eswen and Lumiel on the road.

"And what of you, Finëwen?" Eodwine asked. "You have been quiet as usual. Will you join Falco and me on the road to Rohan?"

"I said I would. I keep my word."

"Very well then!" Eodwine smiled. "And once we are back, I am going to buy myself a new lyre! Ah! Here come the vittles!"

Sure enough, Buttercup came carrying a wide platter full of breakfast fare. Rose came right behind with tea and milk and butter and pastries. The breakfast was relaxed and long. At least, so thought the humans and elfwoman. The hobbits felt that it had been cut a bit short by the Big People. So all were satisfied, but none were over filled or under, either.

In a matter of a half hour more, their bags were packed, horses fed and saddled, and the seven made their goodbyes to friends and crew, and to each other. It is not told in any tale whether they met again, but each brought fond memories and tales to be told wherever they went.

[Eruantalon]

Finishing his tea and toast the boy felt new life in him. While he sat there he didn’t notice a man that had come in. Fair skinned and tall with dark hair and piercing blue eyes this man seemed to be looking for something….or some one. The boy sat quietly and ate not noticing a single thing going on around him. That’s when he felt a hand on his collar pulling up.

“Boffer Hornbottle what are you doing here?! You should have been home last night! I don’t know how your parents get any thing out of you! Your very absent minded and never do exactly what your you’re told!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Mandrill!” He said with a choke from the tug. “It’s just that I was so tired and the food here is so good. I didn’t mean to make everyone worry.”

“Well you have now haven’t you?” He sat down beside shaken boy; he felt for a moment he was being a bit harsh. He knew that the boy only meant well. Looking around he realized that they where were only a few miles from his home. Maybe no more than a few hours ride.

“Get yourself together and get ready I need you at the mill. There are things to take care of. You’ll need to get home soon although its morning your mothers mother’s birthday party is tonight. Although I’m sure you could probably sit here and eat all day long. We don’t seem to have that time.”

“Yes sir I will be ready in a bit. Would you mind if we sat for a bit while I filled in the corners here for a few moments?”

Nodding in agreement the miller sat closer to him. The boy told him all about the day before. He asked the miller how he knew he was there. What he told him next made sense in a way. The miller didn’t know that the boy was there. He thought he had gotten home the night before. But he went into there to see if he could get something for lunch for them. He was looking for some one to help him when he noticed the boy.

“So I was getting you and me something to eat for lunch. I figured you where were tired from the big day in town and needed and wanted to treat you to some of Vinca’s cooking.”

The boy reached into his pocket and showed the miller one of the gifts he had gotten. The two smiled and enjoyed their tea. Looking at how late it was getting the two made no haste to get going. It was almost lunch time now. The boy must have put the in inn into debt with how much he ate. Paying one of the girls that worked there the two got up and went through the door.

The miller promised he would take him to lunch there once in a while. He seemed to love the food there and they could enjoy a good cup of sweet tea from time to time.

[Firefoot]

A grin lit Lily's face as she saw Posco ride up the lane, and her heart sped up more than just a bit. She wasn't sure whether she was surprised or not that he was alone. She swung herself up into her saddle, riding astride as she always had, and not really caring that her dress lifted to show her legs to just below the knees.

"Good morning, Posco!" she called.

"Good morning, Mi-, er, Lily," he replied, smiling shyly. He rode confidently, Lily noted, and sat his pony easily. The fastest pony in Buckland he had said yesterday. She patted Clover's neck. He was no slowpoke either. Perhaps we will see who has the faster pony later, she thought.

"I am ready to go, if you are," said Lily. Posco nodded, and nudged his pony forward. Lily and Clover fell into step beside them, and they rode off up the lane to enjoy the morning in the Shire together.

[Lalwendë]

Shut in the inn all night long, the moth that had followed Jinniver into the room had settled on her pillow. Starting to wake, she turned her head and dislodged the creature, which fell onto her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw the moth and gently scooped it into the palm of her hand, closing her fingers around it. She stumbled out of bed and opening the window, released the moth, who dozily fluttered around outside for a moment.

Jinniver rubbed her face and absent-mindedly started to dress. She had a slight headache and felt confused, remembering the dream she had woken from. There had been a wide open land, uncultivated, and she was alone in it, shivering. She had tried to shout for her father but the words had stuck in her throat. Suddenly she had felt much warmer, and realised that a pair of strong hands were placing a beautiful soft cloak about her shoulders. The same cloak she had dreamt about the night before last, made of plush grey velvet with a red silk lining. Then she had woken to find the moth.

Jinniver pondered over her dream as she dressed, choosing yesterday’s green breeches but a clean lavender coloured tunic, with a fresh white scarf for a collar. She left yesterday’s stained one soaking in the basin of water on the dresser, and hurried down the stairs for breakfast, managing to stub her toe on the way out.

She was halfway through her plate of ham and eggs when she remembered she had not yet brushed and dressed her hair, and embarrassed, she gathered it all up and tied it into a rough knot at the back of her neck. She hoped it would hold, as she had left her belt, with it’s useful ball of string, up in her room. Jinniver exchanged a few words about the fine weather with one of the hobbits who served her up with a huge pot of hot tea, and started to plan out what she might profitably do with her day, once her headache had gone.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

"I remember!" Anjareen sat up quikly. She could remember! She had had a dream about that night,the night she had forgotten everything.....
She had left her home on her seventeenth birthday,finally being the age at which her parents would let her go on her own. She had wanted to see the world outside of the small village in which she had lived. She rememberd waving to her mother and father,Anit and Yillib,goodbye, she remembered her little brother hugging her leg,her reaching down to ruffle his hair and pull him loose. She remembered walking up the grassy hill near her house,taking one last look at her family and home,and turning away,already thinking of where she should go first.Wherever the road leads,and beyond.She remembered thinking.

A week later,she had found herself in a dark forest. The previous seven days had been full of adventure. She had gone through the most beautiful fileds of flowers she had ever seen,and she could have sworn she had seen some faries. The day before she had found a campsite,which obviously belonged to a thieft. A large,dusty,brown bag,full of jewels,pottery,and clothing lay near a pile opf firewood. A man was snoring from beneath a dirty blanket. Abja had been hiding behind some bushes,and was about to walk away when a blue sparkel caught her eye. It was a dagger ,its' blue handle gleaming temptingly in the bright sun. It lay atop the bag full of stolen items,and called to Anja,telling her to take it,take it away from the ugly idiot who had stolen it.She thought for a while,battling with herself whether to take it or not. It wouldnt be wrong,she told herself,it doesnt belong to him,so it wouldnt be wrong to take it.

BUT,argued her good side,what if the man wakes up? He'll kill you! Or worse,he could-...Hey! What are you doing?STOP!Anja had gotten up slowly,and made her way towrds the dagger quietly,The man twitched a couple of times,but other than that,he didnt move. Anja finally made it to the bag. She snatched the dagger from its place,and began to run away,when she tripped over a rock and fell.

"OOF!"

The man jumped up, and looked for the cause of the noise. With his small,black eyes,his bony face and body,and his pale skin,he looked like a corpse. He turned to Anja,who had got shakily to her feet,and raored
.
"Who the 'ell are you?!"He said in an all too familiar voice.

""I'm warning you!"Anja had said pointing the dagger at him."Dont come near me!I'm armed and dangerous!....Believe it!"

The man stared stupidly at the dagger,and his eyes got wide with anger."'Ey! Thas mine,ya little booger!"He lunged at Anja,who screamed and ran away.The man followed her,and had been for the rest of that day and into the next,trapping her in the dark forest she was in.

She had leaned against a tree,gasping for air,thinking:I've lost him,ha cant have followed me all the way here!

"Where are you 'ittle gul? Come 'ere,I wont 'urt you much!"Came the voice of the man,laughing as he came closer
.
Before Anja could run againg,his hand came from around the tree and wrapped its fingers around her throat.She gagged as he cam around and wrapped his other hand around her throat."Gotcha!Now,time to show 'uo wha' 'appens when ol' Dilly get mad!"

He bent down and picked up a large,jagged rock."Buh bye."He raised the rock over his head and brought it down to her forhead,at the same time Anja,who still had the dagger in her hand,had stabbed Dilly in the stomach.Everything had gone black for Anja as the rock connected with her head,and the last thing she heard was a grunt and a curse coming from the man.

In the present time Anja gently touched the bruise on her head,wincing from the throbbing pain which had just suddenly started.And his voice...it was the voice in her head that had been mocking her,making her talk to herself,looking crazy....

The next few days after the attack,she had wondered around the forest, disoriented, and had stummbled onto the Green Dragon.

Anja laughed and stood up. She rolled up her cloak and put it into her pack,and placing the dagger lovingly into one of the side pockets.She started to hum a happy little tune and danced her way back to the inn.She was happy,no matter what had happened to her a few nights ago.She couldnt help it,she could remember!

She reached up and scratched her head,and stopped dead in her tracks, She could feel her hair,it was wild,sticking up here and there,her curls fluffy,hardly looking like they used to.

I cant have that,now can I?She thought.Within a few minutes,she had her hair more behaved,and with just that little adjustment,she looked much better. Her eyes shone gleefully in the suns' light,her lips looked full and nolonger chap,she looked much healthier.

She skipped into the inn,still humming,greeting other costumers with a smile and a wave.She sat at a table in the middle of the room,One of the maids came to ask her order.

"Ay,a nice large mug 'o ale would do me fine miss,thank you!"She said in a loud merry voice,which was no longer harsh.She leaned back and propped her feet on the table,still humming and smiling at passing people.

Mulawin watched a group of men getting ready to depart it seemed. The other patrons were still busy with their morning meal, and the serving maid was busy attending their needs.

A young boy was at another table. The young lad seemed oblivious to his surroundings and didn't notice the figure walking towards him.

That was when Mulawin noticed the elf maiden coming towards him with a polite smile. She was tall, her long hair braided and she was attired in a green tunic. Although he had seen elves before he'd never seen one this far from Loudwater, or Bruinen as the elves of Rivendell called it.

"May I join you?" She asked politely.

He had to catch himself from staring too long at her. Mulawin was thankfully glad his friend was not around just yet. His friend had an irritating way of teasing him when it came to "mingling with females"- as Thanatos would term it. As if being a ranger gave him time to do that.

He stood and politely offered the empty chair.

"I would be quite honored, my Lady", he said, clearing his throat.

As they both sat down, curiosity got the best of him. Before he could stop himself he asked, "What brings you to these parts?"

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is: Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, the Stablemaster (played by Envinyatar)

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.

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About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.