The Green Dragon Inn - Part 4

"So, where do you come from, Miss...?" she asked. Anything to change the subject.

"My name is Chrestienne," the young newcomer said. She eased down into a vacant chair. "I am from near Pinnath Gelin." She looked about the mixed group a little nervously. So many new people at once frightened her, but after so long on the road, company seemed like quite a good idea.

Niniel was speaking to her again. Chrestienne pulled her eyes off of Mardath--he seemed so oblivious to the discomfort he caused--and refocused on Niniel, smiling shyly. "I'm very sorry, I didn't catch that last part."

[Theoric Windcaller]

The Dwarf finally finished his mead. Two men stood at the bar, talking to the beautiful maiden innkeeper. The two were Gondorian from the looks of it, thought Theoric.

"Urrgh, Elves," Theoric mumbled. The fire had calmed and the pint of mead was gone when he looked down at it again, taken by the innkeeper.

Theoric began talking to himself. "Should I stay another night here?" "Maybe I should make conversation with a Hobbit." At that moment, he felt a sudden tap on the back of his head, like the one on his shoulder only twenty minutes earlier.

He turned and expected to see his brother and Baylin, but he saw only a Hobbit, wrapped in a hooded cloack like Theoric's and hooded, his face shadowed.

In a dark, sinister voice the Hobbit spoke to Theoric. "Have you any gold for a poor Hobbit?" asked the cloaked Halfling, staring into the Dwarf's hazel eyes.

"Aye, Halfling," said Theoric. "Come and sit with me a while."

The Halfling nodded and sat down on the chair next to the Dwarf. "A wanderer?" asked the Dwarf. The Hobbit gave no reply. "Well, you seem to be in a cheery mood," the Dwarf chuckled sarcastically.

The Halfling still said nothing. The Dwarf turned to the bar as he saw another pint of mead set before him. Songs erupted from a table near the door. "Maybe I was wrong about this place," the Dwarf mumbled. "I will stay a night or two, as long as I don't have to share a room with an Elf," the Dwarf grunted and went straight to his pint.

[Gorothlammothiel]

"I didn't catch that last part..."

Mardath broke in at this point, "Ah, now that would be 'cause the lady here don't speak loudly, she a shy maiden" Soronume cotinued before Mardath could add another sentance to his speech, "The lady Niniel" Soronume glanced over at Mardath as he continued, "had asked how it was that you came by the inn."

Chrestienne seemed a little phased by this, reminding Soronume slightly of Niniel when she first spoke to him. "It is no bother my'lady, do not let us trouble you with a question that can wait for an answer when you have a meal in front of you." She smiled and took another bite. Niniel too seemed pleased by Soronume's latest remarks. She looked onto him and smiled then caught his glance and blushed. Soronume smiled back.

Elwen and Dorelnar who had been silent at the table for some time now introduced themsleves properly to Chrestienne, though letting her eat all the while. Elwen played with the strands of her hair about her face. Soronume looked upon her and noticed how she had changed since he was last in the inn.

Mardath put his empty cup down with some force on the table top, causing Chrestienne to jump a little. "Sorry bout'that lady" he apologised to her with a chuckle and she smiled akwardly back at him. "Well, Mardath, you are obviously in need of another drink, no?" Soronume asked with a sigh. "Aye, t'would be nice of ye to offer, Soronume." He noted the use of his actual name this time and picked up his cup. "My'lady" he asked Chrestienne, "you've had a meal with no drink for company? Would you like something?" she nodded in reply. Elwen and Dorelnar both also nodded and Soronume stood pushing his chair away from the table. "Niniel, would you care to accompany me to the bar?" She smiled and stood. As they made thier way to the bar Mardath continued to chuckle at what he saw as an odd couple...

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

"That was wonderful!" exclaimed Aleia after Benia finished her song. The common room was suddenly filled with applause as everyone clapped their hands for Benia. She blushed and said "You're welcome. I had a feeling that we all needed a song."

"Yes, we did. Thank you for that, it was beautiful," said Aleia. Gilly, who had been woken up by the applause, nodded and smiled blearily. As Aleia sipped her mug of tea, she surveyed the room and saw that it was full of people enjoying their drinks, some in front of the fire and some at tables. She yawned a little and asked,"So where do you think your travels will take you next, Benia?"

[Theoric Windcaller]

The Hobbit sat still, like an apprehensive statue, glaring the crowd of Hobbits as they cheered, laughed, drunk and sang.

Theoric was extremely uncomfortable. He turned to the Hobbit. "Look, I have no money for beggars," said the Dwarf, as politely as a Dwarf could say it.

The Hobbit turned to him. "You are a pathetic Dwarf," the Hobbit rudely boasted. The Dwarf slammed his mug down on the bar with anger. His eyes were fiery, his hands seemed to yearn for his axe.

"What did you say?!" Fire was in his voice.

Never make a Dwarf angry. "I said that you are pathetic, you dirty pig," replied the beggar.

Theoric reached for his axe, but there was a problem, it wasn't on his back. It was across the room, in the weapons storage.

"Urrgh, curse the no weapons policy in this inn!" he shouted. "I'll kill you with my hands," said the Dwarf and he wrapped his enormous fist around the beggars small neck and lifted him off of the ground.

The Dwarf then felt the sharp point of an object roughly poke his back. "Drop, the Hobbit!" yelled the bartender from behind the bar, holding a sword to his back. It was then that Theoric realized all attention was turned to him.

The Dwarf slowly put the Hobbit down as the innkeeper retracted the sword to behind the bar.

"Get out of here Rumto," she shouted. The Hobbit charged out the door. "I don't want to see anymore trouble," replied Aman.

"Thank you, m'lady. If you don't mind, I would like to finish my mead and get a room."

"Think naught of it. You will have a room when your mead is finished," said the innkeeper from Rohan.

[ June 06, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]

As Soronume and Niniel walked toward the bar, Chrestienne turned to Elwen. "Milady, pardon me for asking this, but you have an unearthly grace about you. Mayhap you are a maiden of the stars?"

Elwen started a little, and Chrestienne immediately blushed and looked down at her plate. "I'm sorry for asking. My curiousity got the better of me. I did not mean to intrude upon your privacy." She glanced up and met Elwen's eyes.

[Nerindel]

As Léspheria smoothed out the skirts of her simple forest green dress to sit next to the Rohirrim man, she felt and heard the dull clunk of metal hitting metal. Raising an Eyebrow she slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out two dragon headed keys.

Suddenly Buttercup's words came back to her, "Miz Aman and Cami are tryin' to find more rooms." She quickly excused herself smiling apologetically, "I will try to come back" she added as she rushed of to find Aman.

As she looked around for the Rohirrim woman, she scolded herself for forgetting that Fawain had given her the key to her room when she left this morning, she had asked her to return it to the innkeeper with her thanks.

Busy reprimanding herself and wondering how she would explain, she wasn't fully aware of the goings on of the common rooms occupants. But as she neared the bar she looked up and suddenly stopped short, her elven grey eyes opened wide at the sight before her. An angry Dwarf was holding a scrawny Hobbit beggar by the neck, but that was not what had suprised her, it was the speed with which Aman had pulled her sword from behind the bar.

Holding her sword to the dwarf's back, The Innkeeper Calmly yelled "Drop, the Hobbit!"
The dwarf immediately complied.

"Get out of here Rumto," Aman shouted after the Hobbit as he charged out the door. "I don't want to see anymore trouble," Aman said turning on the dwarf.

Léspheria didn't hear the rest of the conversation, she was again looking down at the keys in her hand, she was debating weather she would be better of waiting till a bit later to tell the innkeeper about her lapse of memory regarding Fawain's key.

But as she looked up the innkeeper caught her eye, she cocked her eyebrow wondering what was troubling her elven helper.

Léspheria seeing the womans gaze, Put her own key back in her pocket and gripped the other tight in her hand, determinedly she walked over to were the woman was waiting.

She would make no excuses the fault was hers and she would humbly accept any reprimand given.

[ June 06, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[Theoric Windcaller]

The Dwarf finished his last pint of mead for the night. His tolerance of alcohol was very strong, so he was fine. He was not intoxicated and was in control of everything he did thereafter.

He gazed to the side. At the bar sat a Rohirrim man, and beside him a young woman straightened out her forest green skirt and sat down beside him. She was an Elf. To his dismay, Theoric had many dealings with Elves, and seen his share of Elven beauty, but this one was different. She was pale and her face gleamed and her eyes twinkled his the stars. She looked as though she was from Imladris, or more commonly referred to as Rivendell.

He eyed her, inspecting her, judging her. Theoric had a habit of doing that since he was a young Dwarf-lad, always inspecting, always judging. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two small peculiar looking keys. They were dragon-headed. Theoric thought for a moment. Of course! The Green Dragon! Maybe the mead had an affect on him after all.

A look of shock appeared on the Elf’s face. She must’ve forgotten something, the Dwarf thought, and then, suddenly, something dawned on him. OF COURSE! I forgot, Aman was to get me my room; maybe this woman can aid me.

Theoric stumbled to him feet from sitting down and slowly made his way to the Elf. He didn’t mind dealing with Elven women, because they had no intention of fighting with him, it was the Elven men he could not deal with.

She turned away and began going towards the Aman but Theoric caught her arm and swung her back around. “Greetings, Elf. I am a weary Dwarf, hailing from a long journey. May I ask you for your name? I shall give you mine. I am Theoric Windcaller.”

She stopped with a small smile on her face. “I am Lèspheria, how can I aid you?"

He smiled as her soothing voice flowed into his ears and rang throughout his head. “Of course, I am no stranger here, we are all companions,” he replied, smiling at his remark.

“How can I aid you sir?" “I seek accommodation,” said the Dwarf. She chuckled as she remembered that the only room left that can be spared is a room with two Elven males. This will be a very peace less night. She shuddered and feared telling him, but she had to.

“Dwarf, Ask Aman at the bar for key to a room, she will give you one as soon as you ask her,” the Elf replied, walking off, sneering and laughing.

[ June 07, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]

[Nerindel]

As Léspheria made her way to the bar to return the forgotten key. She found herself suddenly spinning around, as someone roughly grabbed her by the arm. She was a little concerned although it didn't show, when she saw the stout young dwarf before her. The dwarves and her fellow kin felt no love for each other, but she herself held no judgement having never meet one before.

“Greetings, Elf. I am a weary Dwarf, hailing from a long journey. May I ask you for your name? I shall give you mine. I am Theoric Windcaller.”

She smiled as she replied “I am Lèspheria, how can I aid you stranger from a strange land?”

“Of course, I am no stranger here, we are all companions,” he replied, smiling at his remark. “Weren’t you choking that Hobbit earlier?” Lespheria frown recalling the encounter.

“Nay, he was verbally attacking me,” replied the Dwarf, Trying to sounding heroic.
“Dwarves take insults seriously then,” she Laughed.
“Well, when someone calls you a dirty pathetic pig, wouldn’t you be angry?” the dwarf replied. She chuckled. So that’s what happened, she thought.

“How can I aid you sir? Tonight is a busy night.”
“I seek accommodation,” The dwarf told her.
She chuckled as she invisioned the dwarf having to share a room with an elven traveller. Her hand then tightened around the key she held in her hand, she thought to give it to the dwarf then thought better of it, for she didn't know if Aman had any other guests waiting afore the dwarf.

“Sir Dwarf, Ask Aman at the bar for key to a room, she will give you one as soon as you ask her,” she replied instead then went to return the key to the innkeeper, she would be the best one to decide would was to be done with it.

[Bekah]

Morwennar cantered down the long, dusty road. The light was failing fast, and she had been instructed to stay in the Green Dragon Inn several miles away while she attended to her task in the Shire. Her father had honoured the inn with his presence some years ago when he had business there, and had returned with favourable impressions of it.

But that was twenty five years ago, and Morwennar did not believe the inn would have stayed the same. However, there was no shelter in sight, and she knew the way to no inn nearby save the Green Dragon in Bywater.

"Faster now, my darling. Come on now, Thunder," Morwennar urged her horse. The chestnut-coloured horse broke into a gallop.

************************************************** ***********

The light had gone, and the road was hard to see. Thunder slowed to a trot, as he and his mistress tried to keep to the track.

************************************************** ***********

A rosy glow in the distance was finally seen, and Morwennar again urged her horse to go faster along the pale track. There was hope now, and the chance of shelter. Warm though it was, it would likely turn colder as the night went on.

The light was nearer now. She could see the outline of the inn, which grew clearer every moment. Soon the sign swinging outside was readable, and Thunder slowed to a canter for a few strides and then started trotting, surprising Morwennar for a little and discomforting her until she found the rhythm again. The inn was a few yards away now, and Morwennar reined Thunder in, smoothly swinging out of the saddle.

There was no one around to take the horse to the stables.

"Hail! I am a stranger from afar, and my horse requires nourishing!" Morwennar shouted to the dark. "Could someone please help me?" She had opened her mouth to cry out again, when a dark figure emerged from the building and walked towards her.

"Hello. Shall I take your horse to the stables, then?" The man took the horse by the halter and started to lead him in the direction of the inn as he spoke.

"Yes. Thank you. His name is Thunder," Morwennar gasped, slightly surprised by the man's swift action.

"My name is Derufin, and I'm a jack-of-all-trades, so to speak." He twisted his head around to talk to her while his feet still strode on, quickly obscuring him from her view.

"Oh. I'm known as Morwennar." With that, she walked towards the inn; then she realized that her money was still in one of the saddlebags on Thunder, and ran after Derufin.

************************************************** ***********

Morwennar finally walked into the lighted inn with her money, reassured that her other belongings would be taken to her room when she was given one.

She asked for a meal from the bartender after her stomach grumbled at its neglection; the stew she was given smelled heavenly.

She stumbled over to a table occupied by some other persons of various heights and asked for permission to sit there. Having received it, she put her bowl of stew down, pulled out her dagger, and proceeded to eat.

A strange thing to do, she thought. Why did that man start to lead Thunder away before I'd answered his question? A more alert part of her answered her own question immediately. Because it was a rhetorical question, you nitwit, and you'd already asked for assistance. Another troublesome query emerged out of the turmoil of her thoughts. Why did he not ask me to retrieve my money first? The answer popped up quickly; he let you have the money when you remembered. If you'd remembered earlier he would have given it to you earlier; he didn't know it was there. Don't be such a suspicious fool.

Fancies. Cobwebs in your head, that's all, Morwennar. These people are fine. Look at you; you're sitting at a table full of people, and you've barely said hello. Socialize. And get yourself a room.

Morwennar knew she had to get a room soon and that it was rude to sit sullenly among others, so she smiled politely at the people surrounding her and excused herself from their company. So noisy and bright...I need to sleep.

She waded through the sea of people to the bar. "Excuse me!" The sound of her own voice roused Morwennar from her state of drowsiness. "I need a room!"

A young woman walked over to Morwennar. "We have no spare rooms, I'm afraid."

"I am tired. I am cold. I have ridden far today. I need a room. A stable will do. But I need somewhere."

"The stable is already being occupied. But perhaps I can find you some place..."

[ June 08, 2003: Message edited by: Bekah ]

[Theoric Windcaller]

Theoric slowly walking through the halls and up the stairs to his room. He had no knowledge of what waited for him on the other side of that door.

Theoric finally noticed what was going on when he opened the door to his room. Lo! and behold, there were two Elves, both dressed alike, in forest green apparel.

Theoric was dumbstruck and angry. Theoric slowly walked in, everything was silent. The Elves eyed him, judging every move he made.

Dwarven humor and jokes were not that appropriate at most even. They would say what came out of their mouths at times. Here is a perfect example.

Theoric came up to the Elves, their fists clenched. He parted his lips and said, "I get the bed, you two get the floor."

[ June 07, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

When Gilly’s consciousness began to rise back to the surface, she became aware of the drone of many voices and clapping. It was a pleasant sound, punctuated by the tap of mugs and cups returning to rest on the tables. In her fog, the hobbit was trying to find a pattern to these accents, finally realizing she didn’t need to.

This isn’t home, she thought. Ah, I have fallen asleep, but for how long?

Opening first one eye then the other, the hobbit struggled to wake fully. She nodded and smiled, moving her limbs against their stiffness. Benia was still there as was Aleia, so she couldn’t have been dozing over long.

She notice the innkeeper escorting a rather rough looking hobbit out the door and wondered if there and been any trouble. Then pulling out the handkerchief in her pocket to dab the corner of her mouth, Gilly heard something small and hard hit the floor. At Benia’s stricken expression, she saw that in her hand she held the desert woman’s handkerchief and not her own. Immediately perceiving that the unknown object Benia had wanted her to see had dropped to the floor, she set about retrieving it. Searching around her chair she was looking for something, though she didn’t quite know what it might be. It was certainly not the peas and biscuit crumbs she was coming across. Ah, there it was! She rolled the small dark stone between her finger and thumb. It didn’t look like any stone from around here. Perhaps it was a memento from travel to a far off land. Gilly hoped that was all! She quickly wrapped it in her own clean handkerchief, and passed it back to Benia, before rising to her seat once again.

Aleia, was looking at her quizzically, but with a grin. “ Dear me, I thought I had dropped it!” she announced with a laugh, holding up the letter in her left hand, for her fellow hobbit to see. “Very clumsy, you know?” Aleia nodded sympathetically.

The group was quiet for a little while, taking in the crowd’s activities. Aleia gave a small but contented yawn, and drew their attention back to the table, “Where do you think your travels will take you next, Benia?”

This was a question Gilly was also keen to know. She wondered if Benia herself knew the answer.

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath ran up to towards the Inn and Morwen, her friend, who was framed by the light of the door.

" I am sorry that I took off like that, " she said looking from Morwen's eyes to the ground, " I didn't want to spoil the moment."

She looked at her friend, "Morwyn," she asked, " what is wrong with me?" The anger, tears and old wounds began to seep through her soul again...

[ June 07, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Envinyatar]

If it's all right with everyone, I am going to move us forward to the new day. If this is a problem for anyone, let me know and I will move my post.
_____________________________________________

‘Falmar would have run all the way to Mithlond, so great was her desire to see her mistress once again. Her hooves struck the ground at a rapid pace and the thick muscles of her loins and shoulders drove her legs with such an energy that her gait ate up the miles.

Derufin leaned low along her neck, the night’s air in the wind of their passing rushing through his hair, tangling it in its wild, swift fingers. His own desire matched that of the great beast beneath him, and he had no thought but to see her once again.

They had passed the crossing at Waymeet and were on their way to the White Downs when the light of reason met the pale fingers of first light that now spread softly behind him. The sun had not yet risen, but darkness had fled the skies above, taking the stars and moon with it.

‘Whoa up, ‘Falmar,’ he called loudly, as the horse ran on, though now at a slower pace. He pulled back on the reins, bringing his mount to a halt. ‘Falmar shook her head as she stood there, her muscles trembling from the effort given and from the desire to run on. ‘We cannot hope to find her running madly to the west like this,’ he murmured softly, calming the horse. He turned her around and headed back to the Inn at a slower pace. Leaning down along her neck, he laughed, saying, ‘She is coming to us. We can be patient.’ ‘Falmar shook her head at this last comment as if denying it.

It was early morning when they finally turned up the path to the stable. Smoke rose from the Inn’s chimney into the cool air of early day. ‘Aman is up and the Dragon’s day begun,’ he said with a tired voice, the fall of the horse’s hoofbeats echoing the exhaustion he felt. He saw to ‘Falmar once they made the stable, wiping her down, laying a blanket across her back, and leaving her fresh hay and water.

Taking off his boots before he entered his rooms, he walked quietly past his new room mate, heading for his own bed and sleep . . .

[Envinyatar]

Everyone look at my post above - I moved the time in the Inn forward to the next morning.

See if that will work for you. If not, let me know.

[Theoric Windcaller]

The Dwarf had fallen asleep the night before on the bed, but when he woke up the next morning, he was on the floor.

Theoric looked around. The Elves were gone and a little parchment was left on the door, "Sleep well, Dwarf."

He grunted and then mumbled to himself, "The Elves did it." Well, at least I didn't have to kill them, he thought, with a smile.

The beautiful scent of eggs and bacon floated down the hallway and into every room in the inn. Theoric was mesmerized. He struggled to get up as he tried to recount all the events that took place the night before. He held his head, which was pounding with a great head ache. "Maybe a little breakfast will clear this up."

He struggled to the door and down the stairs, the sun beaming through the open window at the end of the stairwell. He reached again for his axe that usually was strapped to his back, but he remembered it was at the weapons storage downstairs. He kenw a great weight had been lifted off of him, but he remembered naught what it was until now.

As he came upon the lower portion of the inn, he saw a great crowd of people, the same people as the night before.

"Maybe I should find someone to talk to this fine morning," he said as he headed towards the bar to retrieve a hardy meal.

[Nerindel]

Léspheria awoke to the first rays of the morning sun rising over the horizon. She opened the small window in her room and closing her eyes she inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smells of the new day. She then lifted the large Water jug from the dresser and poured the clear crisp water into a floral wash basin.

As she washed she thought of the previous nights events. The innkeeper Aman had not been mad with her for forgetting about her friends key, infact she was relieved to have another room for the many guest that kept arriving. Then there was Eodwine, it had gotten so busy that she had'nt been able to get away, to speak with him as she had promised.

As she searched her trunk for something to wear she remembered the soft sound of a harp filling the common room the night before. She lifted a soft powder blue short sleeved dress and slipped it over her head. She then took a deer bone comb and sitting in front of the mirror she combed the tangles from her soft dark hair, then she tied it in a braid that sat over her right shoulder. She then lifted a silver and blue Butterfly slide that matched her dress and slid it carefully in her hair just above her left ear.

As she returned her comb to the trunk, her hand brushed something cold. She raised her eyebrows as she pulled out a small silver harp, her Eyes then lit up. She raised the harp and sat by the window to play in the new day. As she played she closed her eyes letting the music flow through her.

When she finnished, she smiled pleased with the music that she had just played. she put the harp down and went down stairs to have breakfast. Maybe Eodwine would join her she thought as she walked gracefully down the wooden stairs.

The delightful smells of breakfast whafted through the inn from the kitchen. bacon, eggs, warmed bread and many other delights that Ms Bunce had cooked up for the guests.

Some of the other staff where already sitting at the long wooden table in the kitchen. "Good morning all" she grinned as she lifted a few slices of the warmed bread and put then on the plate that buttercup passed to her, she then lifted the spoon from the jam pot and put a large dollop on the side of her plate, putting a knife on top she turned to get a cup of the fennel tea she could smell brewing on the stove. Vinca poured her a large mug of the brew and pushed it into her hands, Léspheria nodded her thanks, then made her way into the common room.

Léspheria sat down at a vacant table by the bar and lightly spread the jam across the bread, she took a large bite savouring the sweet taste of the jam combined with the warmth of the bread. Hmmmm Vinca is a most talented cook she though as she took another bite and washed it down with a sip of her tea.

[ June 07, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[ June 08, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[Theoric Windcaller]

Theoric turned to see Lèspheria, the Elf from the previous night, entering the room and approaching a table full of the Green Dragon staff.

I was lucky I even got a room, thought the Dwarf, remembering his and Aman’s conversation. ‘No! She gave you a room with two Elves, purposefully judging from the look of her eyes,’ contradicted his inner self.

But then, Theoric looked upon Lèspheria’s graceful face, still glimmering like before, and her dark flowing hair, tied in a braid sitting over her right shoulder. I can’t get mad at her, the Dwarf argued. After all, she’s an Elf and I’m a Dwarf, we have no likenesses for each other.

The plate in front of the Dwarf was empty and breakfast was probably going to be over in a few minutes. “I’d best be on my way,” the Dwarf said to himself. Where am I going to go? He thought. Ah, maybe I could visit Bag End, maybe I could still see Samwise Gamgee and ask about his adventures with the legendary Frodo Baggins!

Theoric smiled as he planned his day out. The Dwarf stood up on his feet and bowed before Aman as he saw the Elf lady walk into the common room.

The Dwarf stepped into the common room. He saw the Elf, Lèspheria, sitting at a vacant table alone.

Approaching the Elf, the Dwarf took a deep breath. “Good morning, m’lady.”

The Elf looked up with a smile. “I came over to ask you if you know where to find Bagshot Row?” The Elf lady nodded her head from side to side. “Thank you, I’ll ask someone else, goodbye!”

Lèspheria lowered her head and began to finish her meal. Theoric turned out of the common room and out of the door to the day outside and he never returned to the Green Dragon until a few nights later, or so he thought.

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine had slept in worse quarters by far. He stretched and yawned as his thought wandered back to the night before.

"Play for me!" The Lady Waen's anticipation had been hard to deny, but there had been many folk making merry, and others had been singing good songs. And it was not his way to pull others' eyes and ears toward himself. He had played before lords and ladies, but only upon request. He doubted he needed a request from the Innkeeper, but his songs and tales could wait. He had declined with the most courteous words he had known, and she had appeared crestfallen, as if there were more his refusal than he had meant. She had left the Inn to find her bed in the trees. He sighed and rolled over.

And Lespheria had remained busy with the doings of the Inn. Eodwine chuckled. Now that had been a surprise indeed! Not only the hobbit lady Camelia, but the Lady Lespheria of Rivendell, showing up in the same inn, in the Shire! No great stretch for Cami, but What, pray, lady, are you doing here?

There was whinnying and stamping and human voices below. Eodwine's eyes came open. I shall have to ask her just that! Maybe there's an adventure in it. That was, after all, the real reason for his visit to the Shire. His fellows back in Rohan had asked how he could expect to find any adventure in such a quaint and quiet place. He had let them have their laughs.

The King had blessed his journey before them all, and having taken him aside, had winked, saying there would be adventure aplenty if any of the likes of Masters Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took were to be found. "They've awakened something in their kin and country. See if it is not so." Eodwine had thanked his king for both blessing and good speeding words and went on his way.

He rose from bed, washed and clothed himself, and made his way to break his fast. He noted that the sun was well above the hills already, and he wondered if he was the last to rise. He went inside.

[alaklondewen]

Fanyahir bounced lightly on the back of his muscular black horse whose hooves kicked the still dust from the road into the air. Coming from Rivendell he was on his way to Mithlond where he was not expected for another two weeks. Being a friendly acquaintance of an old hobbit who had once lived in Imladris, Fanyahir had heard of the peacefulness of the Shire, so he made arrangements to spend a couple of nights at a small inn called the Green Dragon, and then he would be on his way to Mithlond. One of his elders, Kanothinion, is to meet with him at the havens about his future training as a shipwright. Fanyahir was both nervous and excited about his future.

The dusty road bent to the right and as Fanyahir followed it the inn came into view. A sigh of relief escaped him. After traveling all night, he was more than ready for a hot meal and a bath.

When he reached his destination, Fanyahir jumped lightly from the steed and guided him around the side to the stables. No one was in sight, so he looked about until he found an empty stall. “Here you are, Mornisul.” Fanyahir affectionately rubbed the horse’s nose. “I’ll be out to check on you soon.” With that, he turned and left the stables heading for the front door of the building.

The morning sun flashed in his eyes and his hand instinctively rose to block the rays. Turning the corner, Fanyahir leaped up the steps and opened the door to the inn. The common room was dark and his eyes needed a few moments to adjust. Looking around he noticed the room was relatively empty with the exception of a few folk.

An empty table sat to Fanyahir’s left, and he weaved his way around the other tables and took a seat with his back facing the door. In just a moment a small woman approached the travel worn elf. “How do you do this morning, sir?”

“Well, I’ve had a long journey and could use a nice hot breakfast,” Fanyahir leaned forward across the table and smiled brightly at the hobbit. He was glad to see a friendly face.

“Do you have something specific in mind?” Fanyahir shook his head and said, “I will put in your hands…” “Ruby,” she finished his thought. “My name is Ruby. I'll put your breakfast in and bring it out as soon as it’s ready.” Grinning back at the handsome elf, Ruby hurried off to the kitchen.

Fanyahir sat back in his chair and pulled his long dark hair off his shoulders to his back. The inn had a warm and friendly feeling which made him glad he decided to take the detour into the Shire.

[ June 08, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: The night before.

Aman was keeping a careful eye on the dwarf. The hobbit beggar, Rumto, was renowned for being a troublemaker, but shouldn't the no weapons policy have dealt with such problems of violence? Nay, this dwarf could indeed be a problem...

The Innkeeper made her way across to the other side of the room, near one of the large window seats, where the hobbit was looking actually quite terrifying, her hands on her hips as she glared at a pair of men who had refused to share rooms earlier. As Aman came up, her hands held behind her back quite innocently, the two men couldn't help suddenly thinking of how those hands had very recently taken the sword from beneath the bar for the second time that week. Under the carefully innocent eyes of Aman and the matronly and fierce ones of Cami, the two men hastily made up, making their apologies and agreeing to share the room. And thank goodness, for now there was another guest.

"We have another, Cami," Aman murmered to her friend. "The dwarf wants a room."

The hobbit looked at her friend despairingly. "He wants a room as well?!"

"Well, we could let him share with one of the hobbits, couldn't we? How about Rumto? We would be able to rid ourselves of one guest." Aman replied cynically. Cami grinned and tapped her lightly on the arm.

"Now, now Aman. Anyway, if that dwarf attempts to disturb the peace once more, he will be out on his ear immediately, as will anyone else who tries to cause any more trouble."

Aman gave a large, dramatic sigh. "Oh, mores the pity. My hand is beginning to wear quite a nice hold in the handle of that sword. Anyway," she continued on a more serious note, turning her eyes from the common room to Cami. "What are we to do about our noble messenger friend, and his lack of friend? Is there anyone else who can share? I don't know how long he intends to stay here, and come to that, I'm not sure he is either."

Cami sighed. "Oh, I don't know. He assured me that he was happy enough to stay in the stables tonight, but we must think of something better."

[ June 08, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Ealasaid]

For the second time in as many days, Gilly had spent the night in Benia's room at the inn. This time, Benia awoke early. When she peeked in on Gilly, she found the hobbit still sleeping. The night before had been a wild ride of ups and downs for Benia between the success of her song and the near loss of the mysterious red stone when Gilly had accidentally flipped it out of her pocket and on to the floor. Then, there was the touchy moment when Aleia, the hobbit from Tookland, had asked Benia where she was off to next. Benia had managed to sidestep the question then, but now found it staring her in the face. Time was getting short. It was all too easy to lose track of time around the Shire, laughing and drinking and exchanging stories, but there was a whole other world beyond the borders of the Shire. She was needed out there.

Regretfully, Benia opened her pack, taking out her traveling cloak and laying it across a chair. Soon, her hood and a pair of soft leather gauntlets joined it. She carefully folded and repacked her scant other belongings, being careful to leave enough room for a goodly supply of food. She reached into her skirt pocket and took out the little pouch that held her finger cymbals. Weighing it in her hand, she hesitated. Then she reached in and removed from it Gilly's clean handkerchief and the stone. She shook the stone out into her palm and gave it a long look. Maybe it was good fortune that she had come by the stone. It could prove beneficial to have one where she intended to go. Frowning, she tucked it carefully into a hidden pocket in the lining of her bodice. She tossed the pouch with her finger cymbals into her pack. The time for songs was over.

[Nerindel]

As Léspheria finnished her breakfast she saw Eodwine enter the room, smiling she raised her hand, beckoning for him to join her. He he tipped his head to Aman and Cami before taking the seat across from her.

Ruby then came to the table, "Would you be caring for some breakfast Sir" she asked, Eodwine grinning like a young lad then proceeded to order. once Ruby had taken Eodwine's order she turned to Léspheria "an can i be gettin you anything more miz Léspheria?"

"Just more tea, please" She replied politely handing her empty cup and plate to the hobbit woman. Ruby took the dishes and hurried of to the kitchen to prepare Eodwine's breakfast.

"so what Errand has brought you to the Shire Master Eodwine?" she asked. she sipped quietly at her tea as she waited for him to reply.

[Himaran]

Bali awoke the next morning to find that he had slept at his seat. Embarressed, as he knew that patrons were required to rent a room, he looked around once more for the inn keeper.

Still not finding her, he decided that it would be in his best interests to have breakfast. He ambled over to the bar and ordered several fried eggs with toast and bacon on the side. The dwarf soon forgot about his illegal over-night stay, and enjoyed his hearty breakfast.

Most others weren't up yet, and the inn was still and quiet. Bali enjoyed a long and peaceful breakfast, before heading outside the inn for a breath of fresh air.

The cold morning breeze stung his cheeks, but reomoved any drousiness left in him. Taking out his hand-carved pipe, the dwarf read the words on it, carefully engraved in gold: To Bali. It had been made for him by one of his dearest friends, an elf named Burzdol. They had met once at the Green Dragon, and the dwarf somehow knew that they would meet again. Soon.

Waenchamior walked through the shire. Seeing the Green Dragon Inn in the distance. He pushed his greasy, curly, red hair out of his face. As he approached he noticed two women standing outside the inn. One was obviously Elvin, the other of the race of men.


He smiled to himself, his tall frame wrapped loosely in his mud-spattered cloak. He was well built and had a sword strapped to his side. On his back he kept a bow and a quiver of arrows.

He looked back from the road to the women standing in front of the Green Dragon’s round door. His eyes were blue and they were quick and alert.

He noticed that the Elvis woman was distraught. So he asked, “Are there any orcs about”, thinking that is why she was distraught.

[Burzdol]

Burzdol was riding up to the Green Dragon Inn when he spotted a familiar dwarf outside the Inn. As he rade closer, he saw what he thought was a dream. Bali.

He hopped off the horse and handed the reins to a stable boy. "Bali, Bali is that you?"

The two exchanged greetings that had waited to come out. They then went inside. Burzdol bought malt beers and they sat to talk.

"How's oyur family?" Bali asked.

"Well," he started, looking down almost embarassed, "We now have a young boy. Guess what his name is."

"Burzdol Junior," Bali said laughing.

"No, we named him after you. His name is Bali."

"Well, never thought I'd hear that," the dwarf said. They then started to exchange stories of times they loved.

[Theoric Windcaller]

The Dwarf returned to the inn sooner than he had expected, the same morning to be exact. No sign of Samwise Gamgee at his hole and Frodo Baggins had left quite some time ago.

He sighed, opening the door to the Green Dragon once more. This land, ripe and green, full of little rivers, creeks, brooks, hills, prairies, was not the adventurous land that he had hoped. Maybe it was only luck that adventure came to the four Hobbits of the War of the Ring, Frodo, Peregrin, Samwise and Meriadoc.

He didn’t mind too much though, he was off to Rohan soon enough, hopefully to join his brother and Baylin there. It had been a while since he had tasted ale at The White Horse: an inn in Rohan. It had been a while since Rohirrim men had shared their adventures with him in front of a nicely lit fire, smoking pipes and such.

That reminded Theoric that it had been quite some time before he had a pipe. Oh aye, he remembered, my pipe had been misplaced when I came upon the Misty Mountains. I must’ve dropped the thing.

Theoric got to thinking. Maybe there was a store where he could buy some new apparel, and even a new pipe and some tobacco or pipe-weed. His clothes right now were worn and torn from journeying and his boots had holes in their soles, making the Dwarf’s journey uncomfortable on the rocky roads. “Only if I were a Hobbit with leathery soles on the bottoms of my feet,” he said to himself, walking through the door.

He noticed that the inn was a bit more crowded than it was earlier in the morning. He looked around, scooping the room for his Elven friend, Lèspheria. After his futile attempts to find her, he went to the bar and sat in the same seat he had sat in the night before. Aman stood at the bar, dealing drinks and lunch for those who were hungry.

It was strange. The Dwarf, and Dwarves are hungry most of the time mind you, was not. He pushed aside the thought of more food in his stomach. The pain of his blistered soles and his weary legs made him forget about food, which was a rare thing to forget about for a Dwarf. But, alas, this Dwarf was quite different, well, this Dwarf and his brother were quite different from the rest, and he liked it that way. He wanted no ale of mead either; he had gotten his fill of those things the night before. He smiled as Aman approached him from behind the bar.

“No trouble this morning, or… nay, I mean this afternoon, m’lady, as long as you make sure Rumto has gone away,” said the Dwarf, trying to make amends to the event that had taken place the night before. “Rumto is gone, have no worries,” she said, walking off to accommodate another guest.

He sighed.

“Maybe I will stay here, just another night. And, tonight I will plan out my route and buy supplies for my journeying to Rohan,” he said to himself.

“Oh! I better get a room now, or else I might have to sleep in the stables tonight. I wouldn’t want to wonder what that’s like,” he added, rolling his eyes.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

OOC: The previous evening

Niniel followed Soronume to the bar. Her face glowed, almost, and she fair danced as she walked. She didn't notice, and might have laughed had anyone commented.

Unaware, she was humming, an old ballad that she couldn't remember when or where or why she'd learned it, nor who'd taught it to her. It was very romantic, not to mention appropriate, at least to her mind. After all, it was about love between an Elf and a Man. That was another of her favorite stories.

Aman gave the two of them trays for the drinks. Was it merely coincidence, or did Soronume intentionally brush his hand against hers when he handed her one of the trays?

Niniel suddenly realized the direction her thoughts were heading and quickly headed them off. It didn't matter whether Soronume had or not. A thief couldn't afford this sort of thing. She couldn't deal with it. But his eyes were so deep, and he was so kind...Stop it!, she told herself. There could never be anything real between them, so the idea was completely and utterly moot.

Still, dreaming was nice.

"Soronume?"

"Yes, my'lady?"

"Nothing. I--I--it was nothing."

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Everdawn]

It was a cool day in the shire. And a peaceful one, all except for the distant thunder of hooves. Suddenly they slowed as a figure on a horse came into view and stopped outside the house of a halfling. The figure, dressed in black dismounded.

"Hello" said the voice of a young woman to the halflings in the house. "can you tell me where exactly i am, you see i havent much sense of direction you see." And it was, a very young woman.

"You is in the shire lady, there is an inn if you is wanting to rest." The raven haired girl smiled. "Thankyou" and rode again until she reached it.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked her horse, who nodded. "well, ok but you will have to stay in the stables." The girl's dark eyes stared up at the sign. " The green dragon" she repeated to herself before making her horse at rest. "does not sound bad." she laughed, and picking up her belongings strode into the doors.

So many people Her eyes looked up in surprise. But still she smiled. And stood in the middle of the hallway. "They would never think to find me here, ive struck gold!" the girl was excited, but at the same time a little nervous.

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

[arelendil]

Elwen had been deep in thought. Soronume and Niniel had returned to the table. Elwen wondered what had happen there, but it seem okay now, what ever had happened. Elwen glanced around, and someone new had joined the quiet corner table. Wow, Elwen thought to herself aren't we popular all of a sudden.

Elwen looked around the table trying to catch up what she had missed. They all seemed to be waiting for the new maiden to speak. Elwen smiled at the maiden and waited like the rest of the table.

[littlemanpoet]

Ruby took the dishes and hurried of to the kitchen to prepare Eodwine's breakfast.

"So what errand has brought you to the Shire Master Eodwine?" Lespheria sipped her tea.

“I brought a message from King Eomer for Master Meriadoc Brandybuck, which I brought to him two mornings agone. That duty done, I am on an errand of good will here, to befriend and learn what I may from the Holbytla, and to return to Edoras after a year and a day.”

Lespheria smiled and sang,

“My friend, you’re on a holiday!
To make merry and to play!
Be sure to risk no deed unkind
And an adventure you shall find!”

Eodwine’s eyes went wide, sleepy winks notwithstanding. He rubbed them out, for they itched, and shook his head. “What do you mean, adventure? Do you know something, Lady?”

Lespheria sipped her tea. “I know what Elves know, my dear.” Eodwine slumped in his chair, shaking his head, looking down, then up again. A sideways grin came to his mouth.

“I know but one Elf, and that is enough for me.” Lespheria laughed. “But how do you know such things?”

“Humans and Hobbits are not hard to read, nor are Dwarves though less easy. You, my dear Eodwine, are an open book to any Elf.”

His eyes were wide as coins. “Is it any wonder I hold the lot of you in awe?”

Lespheria laughed again. “I’ll keep my oracles to myself if you like.”

Ruby came with Eodwine’s breakfast and he dug in heartily.

Between mouthfuls he said, "You've guessed my course well enough, Lady, but I've no such skill. Pray, what be you a-doing in the Shire?"

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[steve]

(sry for takin so long to continue posting my dad fried the electric in the house and I lost all of my files)

(since it is a new day i will compensate for time)

Reaching over the desk, which is still cluttered with papers, Cygnus gently runs his hand down the back of Tran'oul, his cat (a young scottish fold if u want to be percise). Turning away from Tran'oul he pushes some papers out of the way and clears a space on the desk. Then taking the letter he had recieved the day before he undoes the twine and unrolls it upon the desk. He starts to read the letter...


Dear Brother,
I have done some searching through the record of the keep as you had asked me. I could not send it in this letter for fear that it will fall into the wrong han... The writing trails off and is followed by blood stains.

Standing up and hurrying over to a chest in the corner of the room Cygnus opens it and begins to take out articles of clothing and some armor. He then puts some food into the bag and rushes out of the room heading downstairs. He throws some gold coins onto the counter as payment for his room and rushes out the door

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: steve ]

[Elora]

Vanwe woke into the early light of the summer morn from a deep rest. Two nights on a mattrass was an unprecedented decadence for her. Silvanis had not spoken the night before, and she had left him with an undertaking that she still remembered as she blinked at the sky through the loft doors that she had kept open so as to see the night stars.

"Please, if I may ask this of you, do not leave before we have spoken," she had asked. The need in her voice she still recalled. "I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but there are things I must talk to you of." Still beneath a horse blanket, Vanwe rolled to where her pack lay in the loft. She had left Silvanis in the night, and after seeing to the horses, had made herself at home in the loft upon discovering what was up there.

Vanwe had expected her rest to be interrupted, either by the person for whom the loft had been made ready for or Silvanis. Neither had happened. Delicate pink shaded the sky, the faint silvery glimmer still visible to charm the senses as she turned back to gaze at the sky. The night had been warm enough to leave the bay doors open. Yet after a lifetime of southern summers, Vanwe had still needed one of the grey blankets she had found on the bed.

In the morning hush, she rolled from the bed and stretched. The timbers of the stable creaked around her, and the sound of horses below wafted up to greet her. On light feet, she padded to where she had draped her cloak and dress across the drawers and pulled the dress back on over her shift. She would leave the cloak there. Vanwe considered putting her pack in the drawers, and after a little uncertainty at such temerity soon had done so.

She barely filled a single draw. All she had to show was a comb, a cheap book of badly drawn maps, a length of braided leather, a battered water bottle and some odds and ends of wood, carvings at varying stages of completion, unlike the crane she had not put in the draw with her other scant belongings. She studied the crane one more time, noticed the way the wind seemed to ruffle wings outstretched in glorious, free flight, and tucked that behind her belt knife to give it to Derfuin later in thanks and gratitude.

After pulling on battered boots and combing her hair, she folded the horse blanket and scampered down the ladder from the loft. At the back of the stable was where Derufin kept the implements. She picked up a rake and shovel, dropped them into a wheelbarrow she found there also, and was soon busily raking out the stables. The straw had to be changed, water and feed seen to, before any guests came. It would not do to have them find their prized horses hungry and thirsty, and they could not eat in a dirty stall.

Vanwe worked with an effortless, unthinking grace, singing a distinctly Haradian song as she raked, shovelled, watered and fed. Her voice was soft, the song occassionally breaking as she greeted a horse or pony and then taking up again. Despite the uncertainty and isolation that marked her precarious life, as she sang Vanwe revealed a joy and lightness of spirit that was rarely to be seen in the presence of others.

It was good honest work. There had been a roof over her head the night before and plentiful food. She'd had a comfortable bed, and there had been no beating nor anything to shrink away from. There had been nothing to make herself feel small and hide, and so she sang as she worked in the stables, whilst the sun dawned upon a new day.

--------------------------------
OOC- Apologies to Snowdog. I moved us along a little and hope I have not confused you. I'll be happy to edit if you need me to.

The wind had picked up, and sped young Braladan, Brawly to his friends, along the road to the Green Dragon Inn where his hosts had told him he could find a drink and perhaps a song, "Not to mention a good number of outlanders, lad, so be wary."

Brawly found the door and stumbled inside. The wind blew in after him, ruffling the clothes of the other patrons and causing them to stare at the newcomer. Brawly felt himself blush and hurried to the bar.

He ordered his drink and sat down. He was surprised to see so many other types of people. Brawly was from a small settlement a good ways from the main roads and had only ever seen Dwarves and other hobbits before. Truth be told, he was a little intimidated. Sipping his beer, he looked around for friendly faces.

[Everdawn]

Well, now that your here Madea, what will you do? The girl thought to herself. "I cant go home" she answered herself.

"I guess i should find someone to talk to, yes, i think i will be here a while." she laughed but was almost knocked over by a man rushing out of the inn. Picking herself up off the floor she stopped. A hobbit who had just sat down was looking at her. "Im ok, really i am..."

No, she wasnt really. Her head hurt. "Just my luck, i come here unarmed and on the one time I stop for a proper break i hurt myself." she laughed and flicked her black hair over her shoulder. The young woman walked to the bar. "Hello, um, im loking for something to eat. Anything will do, i could eat a horse!" The unknown girl was given a bowl of soup and sat down at a near by table.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn awoke the next morning, the events of the night before still troubling her. As Annalaliath had come out of the shadows and collapsed weeping into Morwyn's arms, a man had approached up the road. His eyes were alert as he glanced about the road, pushing the two women into the light and out of the shadows. "Are there orcs about?" he asked them in a quiet voice, his eyes taking in Annalaliath's distress.

Morwyn laughed. "No, sir. You must not have travelled here before. Welcome to the Shire, a land that is well protected from orcs and other creatures of darkness. The King Elessar is very fond of the Halflings who live here. No harm will come to you while you stay at the Green Dragon."

The man's eyes widened. "This is the Shire then?" he asked. Annalaliath nodded, her tears subsiding. "I am Waenchamion." he told the women.

"And I am Morwyn." the woman introduced herself. The three had moved inside then, and found Nahai and Celecu ready to retire as well.

Now Morwyn stretched and yawned, wondering how Nahai was dealing with the return of her dead love. If she saw Alric again, she wouldn't know whether to burst with happiness or weep. If she saw her family again... Morwyn's head pounded as she took out the letter from Osric and read it over. Baby Eadric would be so big now! She sighed, folding the pages and tucking them under her pillow. She must start planning to return home.

Dragging herself out of bed and putting on a fresh skirt and blouse, Morwyn trudged down the stairs in search of Nahai, Annalaliath, or any familiar face.

[Envinyatar]

He had forgotten to draw the curtains when he went to bed. The sun streamed in, a bright sharp, merciless blade of light, hitting him squarely in the face. He threw his arm over his face and groaned. His head was pounding from the ale he’d had last night, and the night, or what there was of it for him, had been spent in restless sleep.

Derufin could hear the horses stamping in their stalls. By the Stars! It sounds as if we have a pack of mûmakil quartering here! The soft refrain of some eastern melody broke through his complaint, and he wondered if indeed a troop of Haradrim had come to the Inn with their great beasts. He listened for a while as it became softer and then faded away.

He sat up carefully, massaging his temples as he did so, willing his stomach to quiet down. What had possessed him to think he could take in so much last night without consequence!

Staggering to his feet he felt his way out to the stable, keeping his eyes half closed, seeking the deep shadow of the interior. Derufin dared to open his eyes when he reached the middle of the building. Bright light flooded his sensitive sight and he snapped them shut once again. ‘Who left those bay doors open?’ he asked, then remembered that Vanwe was bunking in the loft, and had probably wanted to have the starlight admitted access to her quarters.

He opened his eyes gingerly once again, stepping into the cool darkness of one of the empty stalls. Someone had been at work already, cleaning them out. And he could see the horses had been fed and watered. Vanwe! She was proving a useful person to have around.

He winced as he walked down the aisle between the stalls, unlatching each door to bring the occupant out. His headache was beating an insistent tattoo on the interior of his skull, but the horses and ponies needed to go out to the large pen in the Inn yard. ‘Falmar was the last he let out, and she eyed the man with disbelief as he shooed her from the comforts of her stall. ‘Come on, girl. The fresh air will do you good, and you can sleep out there as well as in here.’

Once done, and the gate to the pen secured, Derufin walked slowly to the back entrance into the kitchen. Cook eyed the haggard face of the unkempt Man and shook her head at him.

‘No lectures, please!’ he pleaded, sitting down heavily at the kitchen’s table. ‘Just a cup of strong tea, if you would.’ His voice trailed off and he looked at her with a sheepish expression on his face.

‘And a dose of that willowbark powder, too, if you please, Cook. My head is pounding . . .’

[Elora]

Vanwe hung back, Derufin painting a familiar picture as he did as best as he could to cope with the morning light. Her singing was silenced as he winced at the sunlight. She did not notice how tight her hands were around the haft of the rake she had been holding when he entered the stables. Nor did she realise just how quiet and still she had become. It was instinct. Men, she had learnt, could be dangerous at such times. Derfuin had not shown anything other than gentle kindness, but it was better to be cautious. That was why she kept with her that small length of the thong used too often across her back. It helped her to remember.

It wasn't until she sighted him moving back to the inn that she realised her hands were aching with the force of her tense grip. Vanwe took a breath again, and glanced at white knuckles. She should not forget, and she nearly had that morning. Her fingers shook a little as she unwound them from the rake. The horses had been taken out to the pen and their stalls were mucked out. She set the rake back where it was kept, new caution in her movements. Now was not the time to stumble and make a mistake like forgetting where the rake was supposed to be stowed.

Vanwe then took up the handles of the wheelbarrow and pushed it out to where she had noticed a compost heap. Soiled straw was valuable, she well knew, and she duly emptied the used straw out onto the heap, using the shovel to turn it over and areate the rich castings that would in turn be used to aid the garden. The barrow emptied, Vanwe pushed that back to be stored where it belonged too, with the shovel.

The stable was quiet now, and she stood in the doorway gazing at the inn. Her stomach let her know that it could smell breakfast inside, but wariness prevailed. It was always best to present a low profile. It was after a heavy night that she had found life more difficult and Vanwe was not about to sully the small oasis of peace she had found with an error in judgement.

Instead, she turned away from the inn and made for where the lumber was kept behind the stable. Vanwe eased back the oiled cover that kept it dry and whole and studied it for a moment. It would help her, she decided, if she knew what manner of things were held within the timber she presently observed. With that in mind, she folded to kneel beside the timber store and started to work her way through it.

Eyes closed and the warmth of the morning sun on her face, head and shoulders, Vanwe laid her hands gently and reverently on the timber, piece by piece. Her brow lost the faint furrow that had marked it, and she sighed as though she were speaking to the timber.

"Ah, a fine chair you would make," she would say. "Wonderful," sometimes she would exclaim softly or merely laugh quietly as though she heard something that pleased or amused her. "Mmmmmm, a door, or perhaps shingles... you do not know?"

That the timber would not answer her did not occur to Vanwe, for in a manner it did, through what she felt held within each length through her hands pressed against them. In time, she had explored the timber at length and her hands came to where the crane sat behind her belt. Vanwe opened her eyes and looked down to where it was cradled in the palms of her hand. It resonated it's shape, spoke of the freedom of the air and of soaring over plains and seas.

Perhaps, when Derufin was in a better frame of mind, she would give it to him then. For now, though, she would leave him in peace. The very idea of running afoul of a rare kind person was more distressing than any beating she had received from those she so despised. Vanwe studied the crane a little longer, nodded and tucked it back into her belt.

She scraped long blonde hair back behind her ears, hair that had always marked her strange and different, and wiped her face of the tension that had started to gather there once more. Some of the plants looked like they were in need of water, and she had spotted a pail in the stable. Sitting idle by the wood pile would not make things smoother should Derufin venture back outdoors.

[Nerindel]

"You've guessed my course well enough, Lady, but I've no such skill. Pray, what be you a-doing in the Shire?"

"Ah, Two things bring me to the Fair lands of the Shire. One joyous and one not so." She sighed slightly as she spoke the last words.

"I know not if you knew the Elven Lady Piosenniel, the previous innkeeper of this fine establishment, but she has recently given birth to twins and the time of the naming ceremony of our people is near at hand."

Eodwine's head bobbed up and down as he eat and listened to her words. "The good lady innkeepers name is much used in Rivendell. The hospitality that she has shown many a weary elf that has travelled these parts is sung in many a song. Therefore in gratitude and celebration of the birth, the Lords of Rivendell have sent gifts" a light twinkled in her eyes as she recalled the present innkeeper's astonishment at their gift.

"And what gift would the Lords of Rivendell send a humble innkeeper" Eodwine couldn't help asking.

"Miruvor! my friend the drink of the Elves." she laughed, Eodwine joined in her mirth.

"And for the children" he asked

"Ah" She took a quick glance around the room to be sure that no one was eavesdropping, then she leaned over and whispered softly in his ear, "Circlets of the finest Elven craft, Each set with a silver star, That they may always guide their way."

Smiling she sat back taking a long sip of her tea. "A fine gift indeed m'lady," he said smiling broadly. "And what of the other reason you mentioned for being here?"


At his words she slowly lowered her cup, She looked deeply in to his eyes wondering if he would know any of the people that she would be naming in her tale. As Eodwine looked back at her he could see the the sparkle had gone from her eyes.

"I am awaiting word from my twin brother Lóthaniel. He is on his way to the rebuilt city of Annúminas on a mission most urgent and personal to him. Skaikrish the Maimer is holding Halwain The Dunedain Captain of the guard" at the mentioned of the Orc cheif's name she clearly saw a fire in the usually warmed natured mans eyes, She wondered if he knew this Orc or if it was just memories of old.

"Skaikrish and a band of his kin escaped from mordor but as they passed through Ithilien they killed a female ranger, they were then persued by the Ithilien Rangers into the misty mountains and there they hid and laid an ambush. The Ranger's were reluctantly force to retreat back to Ithilien with many injured men, but not before the Ranger Fawian Isilmeleo had killed Skaikrish's favourite mate. Now the Ranger that I mentioned that Skaikrish had killed was Fawains mother and the Captain of the Guard of Annúminas is her Father."

As she paused to take another sip of tea she noted Eodwine's puzzled expression as he tried to figure out how the Elves were involved.

"After the ambush in the Misty mountains Fawain had been injured and separated from her companions she managed to make it to the passed were she was set apon again and that is were the elves come in my friend," she smiled as she had yet again correctly read the man's thoughts.

"Lóthaniel and I drove of her assailants and took her to Rivendell to be healed, at once my brother recognised the young lady to be of the same blood as his good friend Halwain. When he quiz his friend he told him that Fawain was indeed his daughter, he asked him not to tell Fawain of her heritage for it would only bring her grief. At the time we knew not what he meant by this, but we know belief that he many have some of the foresight of is kin. Halwain has dedicated his life in the persuit of Skaikrish and his evil band, he found them hold up in the blue mountains but their numbers had multiplied and Halwain was captured, but some how Skaikrish found out that Fawain was the one who killed his mate and that the man he captured was her father so he sent messengers to Annúminas calling for them to bring Fawain to him or he would hang Halwain on the top of the mountain torn and broken for all to see." She sighed as she took another sip of tea, then continued...

"Word was sent to Lóthaniel and he immediatley sent word for Fawain to meet him here. He asked the Lords leave to take their gift to the Shire and then join Fawain and the Ranger of Annúminas in the rescue of their Captain, the Lords agreed then sent their own messengers to Gondor to inform the king of the situation."

"So, it was that two day's ago Fawain was told of her father and his peril, they left but yester morn with heavy hearts. I fear for my brother as he is deeply in love with this young woman but she knows it not. His love for her is so great that he would gladly die in her stead. A single tear fell down her soft pale cheek as she spoke.

In different circumstances she would be happy for the pair for Fawain and Léspheria are great friends and she is a perfect companion for her restless brother, but they weren't so she would have to just sit here to wait and hope that they would stay safe and well.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman woke with the sunlight softly warming her eyelids, even through the closed curtains. As she got up, she could hear the birds singing cheerfully, and the sound of the horses shifting in the yard, neighing softly and moving around. The sound of quiet, smooth singing sweetened the morning air even further, and Aman smiled, taking a moment to just look out over the yard before she got dressed.

Coming down the stairs, Aman saw that some of the Inn's earlier risers and new arrivals already in the Common Room. Cami would no doubt already be up- the efficient hobbit was always up before Aman, a point on which she delighted in teasing the Innkeeper about. Aman was certain she was getting better though- she certainly wasn't the lie-in-until-noon Aman that she had been before at any rate, no matter how much she might like to be. Something about thin curtains- the way Aman's bed lay, the early morning light woke her early but pleasantly. Certainly there were worse methods of waking up- she remembered with a rose-tinted glassed induced smile how she had been woken up often when training horses for the Rohirrim; generally a bucket of water or a cold, wet face cloth was used.

The woman walked briskly into the kitchen to see that Cami wasn't yet there, but Cook was, standing over the kettle and a sizzling saucepan, and so was Derufin, slumped over the table in a most un-characteristic manner.

"Morning Cook," she greeted Vinca cheerfully. "Morning Der- vala in an ale-house, what happened to you?"

The red-eyed Derufin sniffed, looking miserable and more than a little sheepish. "Not a vala, just me. Please, no lectures," he added quickly, holding up a hand, then wincing as he rose his voice. "I'm just going to sit over my tea- thankyou, by the way Cook- and feel sorry for myself." Saying so, he closed his eyes again and took another gulp of the tea. Cook placed a small shot-glass of powder in front of him with a thump, her lips pursed disapprovingly. "Thankyou, Cook." The sheepish reply came.

Cook turned to Aman. "Seems our stable master was at the ale."

"Mistake!" Came the hasty reply. Aman laughed. "Well, do you feel well enough to do some work?"

One suspicious, red eye took in Aman. "Does it involve lots of noise?"

"Probably not."

"Probably not? Oh, that'll do. What did you have in mind?"

Aman smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Derufin. The attic needs clearing- its more than a one person job, take my word for it. Have you seen it?"

Derufin nearly coughed up his tea as he turned quickly on Aman, then winced as a headache struck once more, before turning a baleful, shocked gaze on her. "The attic? Its a jungle!"

Aman smiled, all wide, innocent eyes. "A jungle? Oh, just think of it as a challenge. Come on, I want to get started before Cami is up. Have you had breakfast?"

Derufin opened his mouth, but Cook got there first. "No he hasnt, and neither have you, Miz Aman. Or Vanwe. Seems to be becominga trend. Go and fetch her in, would you Aman, there's a dear."

Aman nodded, but couldnt help murmering to Derufin as she passed. "Fancy stomaching a bacon butty, Derufin?"

Leaving the shuddering man behind, Aman went out to find Vanwe.