The Green Dragon Inn - Part 3

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel picked up the drinks and turned to make his way back to their table, he noticed that Estella was now sitting on her own he scanned the room to find Wean. He found her sat at a table with four other women, three of which were distintivly Elven.

"Evening ladies" he said inclining his head and smiling warmly as he set down Weans ale. " I am going to keep Estella company, it was nice meeting you and maybe we will speak again Ere I leave," he whispered to Wean. She thanked him for the drink.

He returned to the table were Estella was sitting alone, "I hope you were not alone long" he said to her setting down her soda.
He sat down beside her and took a long sip of his wine, waiting for her to reply.

[Elora]

Vanwe shot out of her room and hurtled down the hallway on the second floor with considerable haste. She had lingered late the evening before, lulled by the warmth and ease of the common room which had been a comfort rare upon her road and indeed within her short life. When the soft bed and coverlets were added to that score, Vanwe had settled into a deep rest that had resulted in her squandering a goodly portion of the next day away. She descended the stairs into the common room on feet made fleet by her dwindling purse, having further loitered to brush the road out of her dress. In her experience, free lodgings generally only extended to one night at best and she had been surprised to have not been tipped out on her ear. As she glanced out the window she was also relieved.

A quick inspection of her pouch found she had only 3 coppers left. It was certainly not enough to cover meals or another night. The only other things she possess was a thin cloak, a nub of a pencil she accidentally purloined from it's rightful owner and a scrap of paper with potentially incriminating notes. As a result, Vanwe arrived in the common room with a healthy determination to avoid drawing attention to herself.

The elf maiden tucked strands of hair behind her ears that had been dislodged in her flight from over-sleeping and more calmly moved through the tables which were filling. Many preferred a dry roof and victuals to the weather that was closing in without. She certainly would to, if she had the means. Aman smiled at her brightly, which Vanwe returned as she wandered through the room. Some faces she recognised from the night before. Still more were new to her, yet noone had arrived in a uniform and relief skated across her senses at that small mercy. Vanwe was still expecting the owner of the pencil to catch up with her.

"Good day, Aman and my thanks for a night's rest in a warm and dry bed," Vanwe said as she approached. Her face was earnest and shone with gratitude that said more about her vagabond status than perhaps the maiden would have wished. Despite what she could see through the window, Vanwe kept her smile in place as she continued on. "I am sorry to leave, but my road carries me on and I cannot impose upon your hospitality any longer."

Aman blinked at her wording, a reaction that Vanwe had not expected. She had heard someone else say that, and it had sounded good and been well received at the time she observed it. She still had much to do if she was to learn the easy interaction of the wider world and not make herself conspicuous. "Perhaps next time, I can stay longer," Vanwe finished. She spread her cleaner and less dusty skirts in a curtsy which she executed with grace as Aman studied the young Elf. "May your road be safe and kind, Vanwe," she kindly responded. Vanwe fervently wished it would be so.

She collected her cloak from where it hung by the door and cracked it open a notch. It was just enough to catch a water logged gust of wind. Vanwe reluctantly shrugged her cloak around her shoulders, pulled it tight with one slender hand and pushed her way out the door proper. She shivered, for the drop in temprature was sudden. The rain was heavy, piercing through her cloak and dress effortlessly as she stepped off the covered porch of the inn. Aman's words circled in her head and the elf sighed.

Then with a determination that belied her tender years, she stepped away from the inn and into the storm proper. She managed to remain upright until she arrived at the stables, some 20 paces. The sanctuary of the partially opened door dragged into that and she stood just within the stable and peered at the heavy clouds. Vanwe felt a trickle of icy rain water course down her spine and sighed ruefully. Behind her the warmth of stabled horses glowed and she turned to breath them in. The straw looked soft.

She would not find a hedge thick enough to bunker down under in this weather. Surely noone would object if she waited out the storm in the stable. She would do no harm. Vanwe drifted further into the stable with each passing thought, the breathing and nickering of the horses surrounding her. She pushed her sodden cloak back from around her shoulders as she walked, curiosity pulling her from stall to stall as she examined the horses.

How wonderful it would be to own one of these to save your feet and give you warmth and company on the road. Her face was wistful as she surveyed each horse. Some tossed their heads imperiously as she passed them by. Others twitched ears and studied her in return. She extended a hand to stroke a velvety nose and a smile came unbidden to her face. She wouldn't hurt anything if she shared a stall.

Vanwe slipped through the stall gate and along side the horse she had stroked. Liquid eyes calmly inspected her young, rain soaked visage and nuzzled her for an trace of food. Her stomach made the absence of any such treasure audibly known and the horse abandoned its search. It heaved a sigh as her hands ran lightly over it's coat. Vanwe sank into a corner near a front fetlock, soft straw cushioning her. The horse bent to sniff her golden hair and it was the drumming of the rain on the roof that finally lulled her into a restive sleep once more. She ignored concerns of what would unfold if she was found near a horse that was not hers. There were no soldiers and noone knew her mother's name. She had establshed that last night. All she would do is wait out the storm. That's all. Vanwe sighed nearly as heavily as her equine stall companion had as her eyelids flitted down to veil sapphire eyes.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn's eyes widened as she heard the last notes of the song emerge from the wooden flute. She pulled it away and looked at it. Had she really just played that herself? Nahai was still smiling, and she shook the little garland of bells around her wrist. The glad tinkling sound made other patrons of the in glance up and smile. Even the normally somewhat downcast elf Nannaliel was looking more cheerful.

A soft but clear Elven sounding voice spoke from beside Morwyn's shoulder. She turned to see a very small petite elf woman standing there. Morwyn thought she was the same woman who'd come in earlier with a hawk on her shoulder. She looked a little uncomfortable. "Certainly, you may play for a bit!" she answered Waen. "But do be gentle with it, it was a gift from a very dear friend." She shot Nahai a meaningful glance.

As she passed the wooden flute to the tiny elf woman, a male elf came by and dropped a drink off for her. The woman of Rohan nodded to him, then raised her eyebrows jokingly at Waen. "My, he's handsome!" The four women laughed, and Waen began to play.

[alaklondewen]

After some interesting communication with Aman, the sweet music from the flute could be heard throughout the common room. Estella mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ to Aman and then turned around to enjoy the music.

The melody seemed to have a positive effect on Waen, because she excused herself and went over to try her hand at the flute. Estella was glad to see that she looked like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Smiling at this positive turn of events, Estella turned back toward the table and began searching for Lothaniel. He must have passed behind her as she turned around because she didn’t see him until he appeared from behind her and placed her drink on the table. "I hope you were not alone long," he said and sipped at his wine.

“No, not long at all. Thank you for the drink, kind sir,” she took a sip of the soda and put the glass back on the table. “You’ve had a long journey from Rivendell…What brings you to the Shire?” She knew she’d talked his ear off about the Shire and was interested in hearing about a journey. This kind elf may have an interesting tale to tell.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel watched Soronume come back with a stranger, though she barely noted his presence before returning her gaze to Soronume. The stranger seemed more interested in Elwen anyway.

Soronume introduced them to the stranger. Niniel's heart beat very fast when he called her fair. She could hardly keep from staring at him, as rude as that would be.

As the stranger started to talk, Niniel paid no attention. She had eyes only for Soronume. Had anyone asked, she could have numbered the breaths he took and how many times he blinked his eyes. Had she the ability, she could have drawn every movement he made. She watched the way his eyes stayed on the speaker, giving the man his full attention. She memorized his unconcious grace and the way he turned his head.

Niniel was well and truly infatuated.

The people in this inn were indeed friendly.

"I am Dorelnar, may the star people bless and guide you." smiled the man nodding his head as a gester of greeting. Soronume noticed he named the star people, what dealings had he had with them he wondered. Soronume glanced at Elwen, she was listening to the stranger, never taking her eyes from him. "I have travelled over many mountains in search of someone i lost long ago. She was a star maiden, but few remain so upon this earth that is why I was surprised by the lady's light. seldom do people of the stars retain what is theirs, most become simple elven people."

Te stranger paused to take a breath and noted that the other maiden had not taken her eyes from Soronume since he had returned to the table.

"This maiden i was searching for went by many names. She was in the sky a brillant star and her people were sad to let her leave but you see they had no choice. For she was dieing. She had fallen in love with a spirit tied to the earth and the pain she was carring was slow killing her spirit from the inside." Dorelnar smiled, he glanced at Elwen but she avoided his eyes, tears forming in the corners of hers.

"I met her when she had first fallen but she had lost much of her memory of the sky."
Dorelnar sat back sighing. "And so you see, i have travelled ever since looking for this maid."

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Dorelnar ]

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Now Gilly was not in the habit of frequenting the Green Dragon, so upon entering she thought she had stepped into some more exotic place like Bree. Flutes playing…so many strange folk had been passing through lately! What their business was in the Shire she just couldn’t figure, but Benia was another matter. True, she looked the stranger’s part, but she had a noble heart, as good as the best of hobbits. And her family had paid for their principles, more dearly than Gilly cared to recollect. They were a good lot, even if they were decidedly different.

So what is all this silly nervousness Gilly? This panic? She lectured herself. Do what you’d come for, you goose, before you work yourself into a jabbering fool, as you’re like to do soon enough!

The room was crowded as the hobbit worked her way around trying to discover which person might possibly be Benia. A cursory inventory of the patrons showed two likely candidates, a slight dark haired woman seated in a group to one side and a veiled one who somehow seemed solitary despite the crowd round her. Although the former looked more like the girl Gilly remembered, but she knew it was the later she sought. The evident reserve betrayed her history and lineage. And it was for her that Gilly made, ernstly hoping that no evil would befall as a result.

[ May 23, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Nerindel]

“You’ve had a long journey from Rivendell…What brings you to the Shire?”

"yes, indeed it was long," he said smiling at Estella who was sitting patiently waiting for him to speak. " Myself and my twin sister have come from Rivendell bringing a shipment of Miruvor to the inn, it is a gift from the Lords of Rivendell to the Lady Piosenniel to celebrate the birth of her new born twins." He took another sip of his wine before continuing "My sister is to stay and be a representative of our people at the naming ceremony of the twins, But I myself am here for other reasons."

Lóthaniels gaze shifted to were Fawain was seated her long dark hair held back by an emerald clip that he had once given her, as he looked at her fair slightly tanned features he could see the worry of the burden he had laid apon her. His usually sparkling eyes were full of guilt and worry of his own and his smile faded away, with a heavy heart and a sigh he turned back to Estella and continued his tale.

"I came here to tell my very dear friend Fawain Isilmeleo a ranger from Ithilien, that I knew of her father and had kept it from her per his wishes, Do not think badly of him he had many enemies and wished only to keep his family safe. But I also had to tell her that the same Orc that had killed her mother now held her father." Lóthaniel sighed again " and tomorrow we must leave to meet up with the Rangers of Annúminas to attempt to rescue him, for not only is he her father he is also a captain of the Rangers." as he spoke his heart grew heavier and heavier, He had fought beside Fawain many times and knew her to be a competent fighter, but some how he felt that this time would be different.

He took another sip of his wine and looked to the hobbit woman trying and no doubt failing miserably to put on a warm smile, to stop her from worrying too.

[Ealasaid]

"Where is it that you are from? asked Aman as she poured Benia's ale.

Benia hesitated an instant before answering. Was this a friend or a foe? Wary of strangers' questions, Benia studied Aman's face. The eyes seemed kind and the expression one of merely friendly interest. Benia decided that Aman was probably a friend and in the long run could prove a valuable one at that. Initially she had been wary of Aman's two companions, war-toughened, the both of them, but as soon as she had spoken the two men had left. Benia instantly felt more at ease. Lowering her veil, she revealed a dark-skinned oval face with arched black eyebrows and kohl-lined dark amber eyes. Her left nostril had been pierced and a fine silver chain ran across her cheek from the stud in her nose to her filigreed silver earring. Tiny silver coins ornamented the chain.

She smiled at Aman. "I was born in the land of the shifting sands, but now I am from nowhere."

After a short pause, she continued. "I've only been to The Shire once before, in what I would call another lifetime. Someone here, a hobbit, rendered me a great kindness. I was hoping to find her. Do you know a hobbit called Gilly? Gilly Burrows was the maiden, but I imagine that name has long changed."

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai felt as though she would swell up like a baloon with happiness. Morwyn had called her a "very dear friend", a title she had not held in many long years. She looked around at the small group of unlikely friends; a Beorning, a Rohan woman, and now, two elves whom she hoped she would soon be able to call friends.

Beaming, she patted Morwyn on the back as she finished her song.

"I told you that you could do it. You're a natural. All you needed was to believe in yourself." Yes, it sounded very hokey, but Morwyn didn't seem to mind. In fact, she looked as though she felt as happy as Nahai did.

The Beorning watched as Morwyn handed the flute to the elven woman who had recently joined them. A hawk perched up in the inn's rafters watched her intently. It was a beautiful creature, an animal of both grace and power.

"Is that hawk yours?" she asked the elf. The bird regarded her as though to say, "Nay, SHE is MY elf. Not the other way around." Smiling to the fair elven maiden, Nahai waited for her to reply.

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

Along the road of life, one faces many challenges. The road of an immortal life is agonizingly long and painful, paved with thorns and tears. The lone traveller did not need anyone to tell him that. His boots worn and mud-spattered, the signs of his true age showed plainly on his fair elven face, making him look strangely like an elder mortal trapped inside an ever-young form.

His tattered green hood cast a despairing shadow across his handsome visage, warping his stoic expression into one mixed with the same sadness and pain that dwelled deep in his heart. He seemed tired, as though he was forcing his body to walk when it had not rested in days. Fatigue did not worry him any longer. Neither did pain, he reminded himself as his bandaged calf sent shocks of white fire careening up and down his leg every time he walked. He touched the scar that decorated his right cheekbone. The sweat running down his face had made it sting and smart. This mere physical pain could not match that which he felt tearig apart the very depths of his soul. She was gone. He had lost her forever.

Biting his lip, he adjusted his quiver of arrows to divert his thoughts from her deep green eyes. His bow, after which he was named, was made of a highly polished wood and inlayed with mithril, giving it the impression of being a weapon wrought of silver.

He forced his mind to the road ahead. He was somewhere in the hobbits' lands now. The little folk had given him several odd glances, but seemed to be used to 'Big People' coming through these parts. A kind farmer had directed him to an inn where he could spend the night, the "Green Dragon."

"Plenty o' your types there, Mister elf," he said. Whether "His types" meant elves or dirty strangers, the traveler didn't know or care. The road goes ever on and on, he thought, and I shall follow it until I find her, whether in this life or the next.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The woman seemed to relax as Soronume and Lothaniel left for their own reasons, and to Amans relief, she lowered her veil, showing off her exotic face, silver shining from her nose and ear, her skin olive and face oval. Two deep amber, kohl rimmed eyes looked back at Aman and the Innkeeper smiled. To her relief, Benia smiled back.

"I was born in the land of the shifting sands, but now I am from nowhere." She carried on after a pause, seeming to be putting her trust in Aman. "I've only been to The Shire once before, in what I would call another lifetime. Someone here, a hobbit, rendered me a great kindness. I was hoping to find her. Do you know a hobbit called Gilly? Gilly Burrows was the maiden, but I imagine that name has long changed."

"Gilly...I can't say the name rings a bell-"

"My name was called?"

Benia spun around to see a cheerful, if a little nervous looking, hobbit standing behind her. Aman grinned. "Well, talk of the devil- a hobbit that appears when you speak its name, like a genie of the sands! Can I get you a drink, miss Gilly?"

[Arestevana]

Her response was cut short as the door creaked open, revealing a young, wide-eyed hobbit lass. Many of the guests, disinterested, returned to their discussions. The young hobbit crept up to the inkeeper, who was chatting with a guest near the fire. She stood silently, nervously, for several minutes.

When he saw her, the inkeeper crouched down to look her in the eye. In response to his gentle query, she whispered her name, Hannah. She handed him a small brown envelope with her mother's name penned in blue ink on the front. Hannah tailed along as the innkeeper crossed to the bar. She thanked him shyly when he handed her a mug of warm milk. Moving back to the hearth, the young hobbit crouched in a corner, sipping at her drink.

Hannah watched the other guests from her look out by the fire. She, naturally skittish, flinched whenever one of the "big folk" sauntered past. She could see all sorts of people at this inn, obviously a very popular one. She stared, awed, at each person. Listening to their stories, she soaked up the words. She loved the travelers' tales of adventure, but shy, remained alone.

[Snowdog]

Silvanis looked about the innas the din of converse and the soft caress of the flute drifted about. He nodded toward a woman inquiring at the bar and sipping an ale, with a carfully placed veil upon her.

'Lady Léspheria, see the one who stands at the bar with the veil, it is a land where ones such as she comes. I was there to a place amid the sands, called the Oasis. it was at times filled with people, and at others none. The dancers were captivating and the traders both tough and fair, yet one such as I from the north was watched warily. I would go through Ithilien on my way there, for it was easier to cross the Poros than the mouth of the Anduin.'

Silvanis drained his ale and stood again, looking about and noting the stablehand had not done as he asked, so he nodded to Lady Léspheria and said,

'I have to tend to my horse and give her free range for the night, for there will be trouble if left in the stables. It has been pleasure to converse with thee, and I will return shortly, and if you are still free I will return the favor of refreshment.'

He bowed to the lady and made way toward the door, looking over at the veiled woman who had taken to converse with a hobbit lass. Silvanis turned away when her eyes saw his, and he pushed his way out the door.

Silvanis made way to the stables, and Blackveil was being antsy and troubled. It was her way not being used to the enclosed spaces. Coming to her and taking her free, he paused, listening to the sounds of the stables...

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Snowdog ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

An elf appeared over the horizon as the sun was setting over middle-earth. Another day gone by, Alatariel thought, her dark blue shawl was towering above her face. She rode up to the Inn on her mare, which was pure white. Climbing off, she lead her into the Inn's stables. Making sure she had a decent stable, she left her there. "Be back shortly, Aranel," Alatariel said, calming the mare. She walked towards the Inn leaving Aranel behind.

Walking back to the entrance, she looked up to see the Inn's sign, The Green Dragon Inn. She walked inside. She saw several people sitting around tables and at bars. They were all lost in conversation, except for a few, who sat by themselves. She saw all different kinds, from elves, to dwarves, to hobbits. She walked over to the bar.

"Hello, may I have a glass of wine?" Alatariel said. The person walked away for a second. They came back with a glass of wine. "Thank you."

Alatariel walked over to an empty table in the corner. After settling down in the chair, she began sipping her wine while contemplating over life. The fire light was crackling as it bounced off the walls. Alatariel got something out of the pouch that was her mother's. It was a gold chain, with a pendant at the bottom. She was thinking over her life, her journey in life, how far she had gone, how far she has to go.

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel rubbed her finger along the heart locket. A lovely pattern on the locket. All of the sudden, a breeze blew across her face, which was pleasant compared to the heat of the fire. Someone had opened a window to let in the cool night air. Alatariel put her hood down on her back to feel the cool air, which let you see her long, dark brown hair that shined in the firelight. Her soft, green eyes gave off a glint of light. The breeze blew across her soft. fair skin, which reminded her of some of her good times in the past, soft summer breezes, warm sunlight.

She looked to see who it was that opened the window. A young hobbit-lass, who had apparently thought it was a bit too stuffy in here. Looking back down to the locket, she opened it, revealing a picture of a beautiful, woman with soft, green eyes and flowing brown hair. Alatariel knew that what once was, is now lost. She was left to wandering middle-earth, but she did not mind. She felt something special in this place, a warm welcoming feeling.

She saw a bit of a ruckuss over near the open window. The young hobbit-lass' mother came over. "Don't open that window, you might give some of the other guests a chill." The mother said, closing the window.

Alatariel, disapionted in the window being closed, put her hood back over her head, leaving her face to be covered in shadows. She sat back in the chair and watched the other guests.

[ElenCala Isil]

The wind rustled in her ears, her vision keen as ever. By now the young elf-maiden could see the inn, and she sped up, longing for rest for a while. "Noro lim" she told her mare, dark as a whisp of midnight. As the time wore on, she had finally reached the inn. She slowed down, and dismounted her horse.

Eruanna drew her cloak of the most magnificent hue of silver about her, and strolled swiftly into the inn, her long dark hair flowing as she walked. As soon as she had entered, she slowed down. Scanning the area with her eyes, she looked on at the people all around her. Hobbits, and elves, and men all intermingled enjoying themselves. She was pleased with the sight, and decided to sit a while and rest, watching the others.

She drew back her cloak, revealing her raiment of deep majestic blue. She was a fair elf, with brilliant gray eyes, and light skin.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: ElenCala Isil ]

[alaklondewen]

As Estella listened to the elf her heart was moved by his tale. She didn’t know the places he was talking about, but she was filled with compassion and wanted to reach out and comfort him. Although she had never had children, her maternal instinct was strong and she wished she could help. With a soft smile, she watched is eyes and followed his gaze to the blond woman across the room. Before he continued and told her, Estella knew where his heart was.

She picked up her mug again as he finished and drained it. Poor fellow, she thought. He was putty on a brave face, but Estella could see right through it.

“I am sorry you are going through this. You are such a nice man…elf…person,” she stammered. This brought a smile to his face and he chuckled. “You know this reminds me of story. Old Seredic Boffin, who’s now well in his 80’s, was orphaned as a young hobbit lad. Sad it was. First his mother was trampled by a mad cow, and then his father was bucked by the same cow when he tried to put it down for killing his wife.” She nodded as in agreement with her own words. Thinking this was a comparable event to what was happening to poor Fawain, Estella waited politely for Lothaniel’s approval.

[Kates Frodo Temp]

The pair entered the inn, smiling and laughing merrily. "Not boisterous," Elhor thought as he watched from his corner, "just full of happiness!" He couldn't imagine how anyone could be so completely content; he would watch, as always, and learn their secret.

They continued in their own world, standing in the doorway chatting pleasantly. Finally the young hobbit mentioned something to her companion about letting in the night air, and they moved to a table.

Elhor couldn't hear them anymore, but that didn't matter. They weren't saying anything of importance, just enjoying each other's company. The boy had said the name "Rosemary" when they first came in. He could have been talking about anyone, but the name certainly fit the blue eyed hobbit lass.

While he waited for a chance to move closer, (Elhor didn't want to seem as if he were eavesdropping) he busied himself by noting every detail concerning the new arrivals. Rosy cheeks, large blue eyes and reddish-brown hair for the lady...no, not a lady: she could have been no older than fifteen summers! She was wearing a sky blue pinafore, dusty from travel, and looked eagerly up into her companions face.

Mostly the boy returned her gaze with an indulgent expression, but his mind was elsewhere. He managed to keep up a steady flow of small talk, so the girl, Rosemary, was satisfied. His raven black hair, which badly wanted cutting, contrasted sharply with pale skin and blue eyes. Everything about him was small, but not in a way that made him look frail or sickly. Quite the opposite! He was the picture of health and beauty.

He was no older than Rosemary, but was, Elhor could tell by his look and collected manner of speaking, very "old for his age." A smile hovered constantly on his lips, and glinted in his eye.

Rosemary did most of the talking, but one could tell that she would have been silent if not for her friend. The looks he gave her, the few words he spoke, were full of the things she longed to here, and as she talked she was soaking up his pleasure.

Elhor could tell she adored him, and that he relished it, but they were only friends, partners in some childish frolic that had brought here, and would take them right back out the door.

"Why should it matter to me?" It didn't! Surely he was only watching them to occupy his mind! Why, then, did his heart ache for them to stay?

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath tired of waiting for the new one walked over to Morwen," what do you have in mind?" she asked. Looking at he in a quisical way because of the flute that Morwen had Annalaliath laughed, "What have you two been up to?"

Then pushing her hair behind her ear again she sipped at some more coffee and looked from Nahi to Morwen. "Mischief is the word of the day and mischief it shall be."

[Elora]

Vanwe woke somewhat confused and startled. She had no idea how she came to be in possession of the horse blanket that was presently wrapped around her. Nor could she rightly say how she had come by a partially stale loaf of bread. Nearby rested an open saddle bag that did not belong to her. She stared at it in befuddlement until again she heard a sound that came from nearby. Through the cracked stall door she had tucked herself behind she peered into the darkened stall. The storm had lent a murky cast to what little light managed to struggle through their veil.

She could make out boots, a man's if she judged the size correctly and her heart sank a little further into her stomach. Daring not to push the blanket or saddle bag from her and beneath the straw, Vanwe did as best she could to uncurl her legs from beneath her. The comfort of being dry was now distant from her mind. This was all too familiar for her liking. Eyes fixed on the pair of boots she could see, Vanwe crouched as her mind spun. She could be quiet. It was a skill she had come to depend upon when she found herself in such predictaments. She had chosen the stall furthermost from the door so as to avoid any rain blown through the door. It meant no likely route past the man that stood in the stables.

Vanwe dared glance around her. There was no door in the back of the stables. Her cheeks coloured faintly at her foolishness. What had she been thinking to move into the stables and appropriate other people's blankets and stale bread. Where she came from, theft brought a harsh and sudden penalty and she flexed the fingers of her right hand as she recalled witnessing such justice as a child. Another sound of boots moving in the straw brought eyes that gleamed with finely honed fear sharply back into focus.

Above her was a ladder which lead to the overhead hay loft. If she was fast, and she could be, she could climb and use the upper loft as her path to the door. The drop to the door could be managed if she rolled correctly. The man circled as he looked around the stable, his horse nickering softly. She had not time to disregard the blanket, and so with it still hooked over her shoulders Vanwe rose when the man had turned away to examine the other corner.

She fled lightly up the ladder in a swirl of hair and skirts and dove behind the nearest bail of hay. Dust plumed towards the rafters above her and tickled her nose as she landed. But what was worse than that was the sound of a faint thunk as her pouch dropped to the stable floor. Vanwe sucked in a startled breath and froze. Below, the sound of feet crossing to her pouch sounded and she risked crawling forward on her stomach to peer from the loft. She got to the edge just in time to see the man bend and retrieve her pouch.

Her eyes went wide as he straightened, for within it was all her worldly possessions. She watched him open the strings and tip the contents into his outstretched hand. The pencil fell to the floor, her three coppers landed on top of her notes and a sick feeling spun in her stomach with the bread. She could not leave without the notes. The coins she would make do without.

She glanced towards the stable doors through which freedom tantilisingly beckonned and then back at the man below. With shock she realised he was staring up at her. Their eyes met in a flash. Vanwe opened her mouth and then closed it again as she shook her head lightly in dismay, blonde hair swaying around her face in a pale curtain dotted with straw.

"Please," she began.

There was nothing else for it. She could not go without the notes for they represented all she had. The names of her parents were everything she could call her own. Not even could she call the village in Harad her own home, for it had never been. The villagers themselves had seen to that. With memories of desert hardened men pressing close to her, Vanwe sighed and slowly got to her feet. Not so quickly did she now descend the ladder and she hesitantly turned to face the man who waited below.

Her dress had lost any advantage of the airing of the night before, and tousseled and dusty Vanwe slowly advanced to stand just out of his reach as best she could judge. She knew better than to speak first. Wide eyes in a grave youthful face steadily watched him as she waited for him to speak.

Her left hand was wrapped around her slim right wrist as though to guard against the axe's bigght which would surely follow, for she was thief, she had no kin to buy her reprieve and worst of all she had been foolish enough to allow herself to be caught. It was never as safe as it seems, even at nice inns like this, when you had no business in the wider world. As he studied her crumpled appearance, Vanwe braced herself for what would follow.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"I met her when she had first fallen but she had lost much of her memory of the sky."
Dorelnar sat back sighing. "And so you see, i have travelled ever since looking for this maid."

Niniel started at this apparent end to the stranger's tale. She had only caught bits of it. Why was Elwen weeping? She shook her head, as though clearing it of cobwebs. She looked between Dorelnar and Elwen. There seemed to be some sort of rapport there, one she envied.

She felt out of place again. There was no real reason for her to remain, but she did. Idly, she began writing on a scrap of paper that someone had left on the table.

I was alone in a cold, cruel world.
And I feared to have my story told.

Then the Moon stepped down from the sky,
And I tried so hard to catch his eye.

But I couldn't see very far.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

“Can you get me a drink! You know your moneys no good with me Miss Benia!”

Gilly’s fears quickly subsided as she saw the familiarity of gesture and glance. Perhaps the face was broadened by age, but the young girl had grown into a woman possessing the strength and elegance of those who carry a their troubles in silence. It was good to see her again, and under less pressing circumstances.

The hobbit reminded herself, caution would be wise. She had noticed a man look at Benia and quickly depart. It was likely nothing but served as reminder. The war was long since won but those seduced by the power of corruption still remained, and a dwindling number of refugees. Taking the tattooed hand in hers Gilly guided Benia to a table facing the door.

“I don’t expect you’d have eaten yet?”

“No. No not yet.” Benia replied.

We’ll soon fix that now won’t we? Make your self comfortable and just give me a minute.” The hobbit said as she went to see about some food.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Katt b]

Waen finished playing the small flute and handed it back to the maiden."Thank you I have not played an instrument in at least..Oh 3 years,the sound always puts my mind at ease."

Is that Hawk yours? The maiden asked."Yes,she is mine so to speak,just as I am hers.We are kindred spirits,our lives are intertwined,we were ment to find each other."

"Would you like to met her?" The young elven maiden smiled and nodded. Waen let out a short whistle and the bird flew to her shoulder. "Her name is Kitathas, I found her hurt when she was young and unable to fend for herself. I took her and cared for her,now we are life long friends. She comes with me to give me strength."

Kitathas began to get restless."Please excuse me ladies but Kitathas tells me she needs some fresh air." Waen strode back to the table where Estella and Lothaniel were deep in conversation. "Sorry to interupt." Waen said with a smile. "but would either of you care to join me on the steps outside for a breath of fresh air?" Waen smiled again and waited for a reply.

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Katt b ]

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel lifted his mug it his lips trying to hide the grin that spread across his face, he didn't wish to offend the hobbit. He of course knew what she was trying to do in her own hobbitish way, but hearing Skaikrish the maimer being compared with a cow almost made him burst out laughing. Composing himself he put down his mug and nodded for her to continue.
--------------------------------------------

Fawain had grown tired, It was getting late and they still had to finnish packing. She thanked Daethaur for his help and said "If you still wish to come with us you are more than welcome, we leave at dawn." Daethaur nodded his understanding, so she folded up the map carefully and looked around the room for Lóthaniel.

She spotted him sitting at a table with a small Hobbit woman, so she walked over and placed her hand on Lóthaniel's shoulder, turning to the hobbit woman she smiled pleasantly saying "I am very sorry but I am afraid that I have to steal your company from you, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, the hour is late and we still have much packing to do." The hobbit woman nodded her understanding, smiling knowingly at Lóthaniel. Lóthaniel then spoke to Estella saying "It looks like your story will have to wait, perhaps you could tell it to me the next time I pass through? It has been a great pleasure speaking with you my dear lady." He then took her hand and kissed it gently.

As he was about to stand to leave Wean had appeared and was asking if either of them cared to join her for some fresh air, he turned to her saying "Alas dear lady I am just leaving, but I'm sure that Estella would love to join you." and with that he took Fawain's arm gently and escorted her to her room.

[Nerindel]

After Silvanis had left, Léspheria suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be helping the inkeeper. She lifted the empty mugs and silver tray from the table and made her way back to the kitchen.

The two hobbits she had seen before were now busily trying to tidy up. As she entered the cook looked up from the floor were she was busy scrubbing and glaring at Léspheria's dirty boots she said "Can I help you miss?" Just then the other hobbit, who she remembered had been called buttercup turned around to look at her and recognising the elf from earlier she said "Oh, you didn;t find miss Archer then." Léspheria smiled and slipped out of the boot saying "Indeed I did find her and I shall be helping out around the inn for as long as I am needed or until my brother returns which ever comes first" she laughed warmly.

The two weary hobbits were now beaming and looked more than a little relieved to have a fresh pair of hands. Cook got up from the floor and literally dragged the elf across the room to the sink, next to this sink was a large pile of very dirty dishes. Léspheria's smile faded as she realised what the cook wanted her to do, "Cami has been promising us dishwashers all week but as yet none have arrived, so do you mind," the hobbit said smiling hopefully up at her. How could she refuse these two hobbits looked exhausted, her smile returned as she looked to the cook saying "not at all, not at all, it shall be my pleasure to help you out," and with that she pulled up her sleeves and plunged her hands into the warm soapy water and began washing.

[alaklondewen]

Lothaniel seemed to understand Estella’s story about the Boffin’s, and that satisfied her. It had been a long while since she’d had a willing participant in listening to her talk. Taking a deep breath, Estella realized that she almost didn’t leave her hole that evening. She had felt anxious at first, and was now filled with relief at how the evening had taken shape.

Being always thirsty, Estella looked around again for the Innkeeper. What a nice girl, she thought as she watched the pleasant woman behind the bar. She was beginning to feel quite pleasant herself after three drinks.

When she looked back at Lothaniel, the beautiful woman from across the room was approaching their table. It look as though her wonderful company was going to leave, but she understood in her own hobbit way. All of these adventures to go on…why, they should just stay here in the Shire, she thought as she smiled warmly at them. Lothaniel reached out and placed a kiss on her hand. Estella was not used to being treated like a lady, and she blushed turning her eyes away from him for a moment.

“Would either of you care to join me on the steps outside for a breath of fresh air?” Estella heard a voice behind her and was startled a little. Turning around in her chair, she found Waen. This was a pleasant surprise and Estella answered, “Fresh air sounds wonderful.”

She pushed her weight off the edge of the chair, then smoothed her dress before saying, “I heard your flute playing. Very nice. Very nice.” She nodded up at Waen giving her approval and a little admiration.

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~*~ [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] The Summons RPG Discussion Thread is now open [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] ~*~*~*~*~

You may post your Character Descriptions WITH your First Posts to the Thread for the Owner, Burzdol, to consider.

Check it out! Have fun!

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Envinyatar]

Elora

Please check your PM's.

[Ealasaid]

"My name was called?"

Benia recognized the voice instantly. She whirled so quickly in the direction from whence it had come that her elbow barely missed the fresh pint of ale that Aman had just placed on the bar for her.

"Well, talk of the devil - a hobbit that appears when you speak its name..." Aman chuckled behind her, but Benia barely heard her.

"Gilly!" she exclaimed. "It's been so long."

"Can I get you a drink, Miss Gilly?" asked Aman.

"Anything she wants." Benia told her excitedly. "Please. It's on my bill."

"Can you get me a drink! You know your money's no good with me, Miss Benia!" Gilly scolded her cheerfully. She then took Benia's tattooed hand and led her away to a table near the door. Benia found herself following, or rather allowing herself to be led, all the while wearing an amused smile on her face. How little Gilly had changed!

The last time Benia had seen Gilly, the hobbit lady had been but a mischievous lass, barely out of pinafores. Now she was a rosy-cheeked and no doubt respectable hobbit matron, but the warmth of her heart and the generosity of her soul were exactly as Benia had remembered them. She had needed that warmth and generosity so desperately back in the old days when she and her parents had been on the run, so closely pursued and so close to death. She wondered if Gilly ever imagined how much her friendship had meant to her. Tears of remembrance glistened at the corners of Benia's exotic eyes. She, herself, had never forgotten.

Gilly, however, was preoccupied at the moment with settling Benia into a chair and, in true hobbit fashion, obtaining supper. Benia watched her bustle away toward the kitchen. She hadn't really even had a chance to say hello! She had had so much she planned to say to Gilly when she found her again. In fact, she had been writing speeches in her head for years, but now that the time had come to deliver them, she was at a loss for words. She simply watched the retreating back, thinking to herself, friend. This is my friend.

As Gilly vanished into the kitchen, Benia found herself alone again on the fringe of the crowded common room. She glanced toward the door. Had she imagined it? It seemed to her that just as Gilly had appeared and spoken to her, she had turned and seen a man standing in the doorway, watching her. As soon as her eyes lit on him, he had turned and vanished. She wished she had paid closer attention. The old question began gnawing at her again. Was he a friend or a foe?

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel saw several of the guests, get up and leave to the rooms. Looking towards the entrance she saw a few hobbits walk in. They seemed very jolly folk, very happy. She looked down at the gold locket, then quickly put it away in her pouch after seeing a person walk closely behind her. She took the last sip of her wine. She pulled her hood down more over her face, which hid her face almost entirly, then slowly dozed off, leaving one eye partially open like a cat.

Something startled her, she fluttered her eyes open. Someone, apparently an innkeeper, had walked by and noticed the empty glass.

"Shall I refill this, or would you just like me to take it away?" she said.

"Oh, yes, you may take them away. Thank you," Alatariel replied with a smile.

She looked up again to watch all of the people. She saw that many of them had left to go to their rooms. Wondering how long she had been asleep she got up out of the table. She yearned to feel the fresh air, so she decided to take a walk outside.

She kept a quick paste, until outside. Relieved to have some fresh air, she drew back her hood. Her soft, green eyes shone in the moonlight. She looked up at the moon to see how long she had been asleep. The moon was straight above her head. Alatariel was amazed at the time. She felt Aranel was getting lonely, so she walked over to the Inn's stables.

She walked in to see Aranel wide awake. Alatariel took her out of her stable to calm her. She walked her out into the moonlight. Her coat shone bright in the light. The wind rustled their hair slightly "You will be alright by yourself," she said to Aranel, stoking her soft, silky mane.

She left her there and walked back into the Inn. Strolling back to her table, she saw a few hobbits chatting together at a table. They continued to talk about a birthday party they had attended the other day, how it was one of the best birthday parties they had seen in a few years. Alatariel reached her table unoticed by the several groups. Her hood still hung down from her shawl. After sitting back down again in the wooden chair, she put her hood back over her face, then slowly dozed off, keeping one eye partially open, a trick she had learned in her younger days.

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Katt b]

Waen smiled at Estella."Thank you,Kit needs some fresh air and I think I do too!I thought you might like to join me."

As the hobbit woman rose off her seat, Waen noticed she was not too much shorter than herself,she could not help but smile.She liked this Hobbit and hoped they would become friends.She stroked Kits feathers as they made their way to the door.

As she opened the door the fresh evening air blew her hair out from it's tie,Waen stepped out and held the door for the hobbit."Thank you"she replied. Waen walked down the steps and held her arm out.The hawk flew majestically from her shoulder off into the evening sky.

Waen turned then to the hobbit."I love the outdoors in the evenings, so refreshing,so full of life." Waen tipped her head back and inhaled deeply."I love this place,Estella will you tell me more of your people and this beautiful land,Kit will be gone for a while,she was hungry.If you would like to sit for awhile till she comes back I would love to hear about them.

Waen pulled her bow off her shoulder and fiddled with it while she sat on the steps beside the hobbit and looked at her waiting for a reply.

[Envinyatar]

‘So, the sleeper awakes at last. Fortunate for you, you chose ‘Falmar’s stall. Her mistress is Elven, too.’ His grey eyes flickered with pleasant memories.

Derufin kept the patter going, soft phrases, soothing tones. He half expected her to bolt like a wild filly as she stood there before him, one hand clasping the wrist of the other. Her dress was rumpled, travel stained, and worn. Bits of straw clung to it. In the tangles of her hair were pieces of grey threads from the horse blanket he had placed over her.

‘May I be of some small service to you? I have some small skill with healing.’ He reached for her right hand gently, bringing it close for inspection. ‘You’re wrist, m’lady, have you injured it?’

He let it go, feeling her hesitancy at his touch . . .

[ElenCala Isil]

As she sat, she slowly began to sing a sweet melody. There were no words to it, moreover a mere vocalization. She sung it only to herself, and it became a sad, sad lullaby. It came natural to her, and yet seemed as though she was singing from afar, watching herself sing, if such a thing were possible.

A young hobbit lass walked up to Eruanna “My, what a lovely song,” the hobbit started, “but,” she paused “but it sounds so sad.”

Eruanna awoke from her trance, and looked upon the hobbit. She felt a tear welling up in her eye. “Yes,” she said slowly, “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” and with those words, a tear tore down her silken complexion. The hobbit proceeded in asking what the matter was, but little words could Eruanna think of, without producing another tear. Eruanna drifted off again, reaching within herself, and thinking of her homeland. Never before had she missed it so much, until now.

The hobbit prepared to leave Eruanna, in her sulking, but stayed. For once again Eruanna lifted her voice, quietly, and began her melody again. Her voice did not break, but remained strong, as if tainted with anger, except for another tear that was streaming down her face. As she sung, she felt a chill run through her, and draped her cloak close about her, once more hiding her royal blue raiment. Before she knew what she was doing, the hobbit had asked her why she had stopped singing.

“If you’ll please excuse me,” she said, her voice faltering, “I must go” She immediately began to run out the door, and stopped just outside the inn. Eruanna sat for a moment on a nearby bench, crying.

Eruanna felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up, there was no one there, but there was a letter addressed to her. She opened it slowly, and read it. It had been a letter from the love of her life. Upon reading the letter, she understood her sorrow. She was in love, and she was separated from the one she loved. One day, I vow to thee, one day, I shall return, she promised secretly, but for now she was stationed in The Shire, at the inn, and she had decided to make the most of it.

Once again, she walked into the inn, and ordered herself a drink. Yet again, she sat, not sure whether she felt relieved, or stressed, and watched again- she searched. The hobbit lass was no where to be found.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Mardath strode into the inn, brushing at his cloak and hair and muttering something incoherent under his breath about the rain. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, black-bearded and weathered. His eyes were a surprisingly bright and merry green, the color of new leaves.

He stopped just inside the door and surveyed the tables, as though the inn and all it contained were just a part of a kingdom. His kingdom. Mardath clumped over to the bar and loudly called for ale. Then, when the innkeeper looked at him rather sternly, he sheepishly repeated his request, much more quietly.

When Aman delivered his drink, he tapped her arm and gestured to a table in the corner, where two men and two women were seated. One of the women looked familiar, like an old friend of his. Or maybe an old friend's daughter.

"D'ye think they'd mind 'f I were to join 'em?" he asked, still quietly. That , where had he seen her before?

"I don't think they would, but ask them," Aman replied.

"Think I will."

He strode over to the table in the corner and grinned. Without bothering to ask, he sat down next to the . "Heyla, miss. I'm Mardath." He extended his hand.

He didn't notice the way she shrank from him, or the way one of the men frowned at him. What he did notice was as near nothing as makes no difference.

Now, Mardath was not really the sort of person a mother would approve of her child bringing home. He was a hunter, coarse and rough. But he had a good heart and wouldn't hurt a fly. Unless someone attacked him or someone whom he considered under his protection.

[arelendil]

Elwen smiled and brushed the tears away. She looked up at Dorelnar. He smiled at her waiting for her to speak. Elwen sighed, slowly untying her hair, shaking the now free waves back into place and smoothing down her midnight blue tunic.

She sighed again, moving forward in her chair. "Yes." she began, "I have indeed heard that tale before. But though i was she, i can not claim that her name to myself anymore. I am Elwen, i was named that long ago by someone." Elwen smiled, placing her hands on the table.

Dorelnar looked deep into Elwen's eyes, searching them. A silver ring flashed on his finger as he placed his hand on top of hers. "i can only apologise for that. My knowledge of your people was then limited and you took me by surprise." He laughed.

Elwen shook her head. "Don't apologise. it was the name I was destined to receive."

Elwen glanced at Niniel and Soronume and then back at Dorelnar. He squeezed her hand, then let it go. The others at the table seemed bored. Others, someone new had joined them.

Elwen laughed, she been so consumed she hadn't noticed him. Elwen smiled at him asking, "Who are you?"

[Gorothlammothiel]

"Who are you?" asked Elwen noticing a stranger had sat himself at their table. "I'm Mardath," he repeated extending his hand a second time, "did you not hear my first introduction?" he asked with a chuckle.

"On the contrary Sir," replied Soronume, "you spoke so loudly I would not be surprised if the entire inn hadn't heard your name." he finshed without a smile, staring straight into Mardath's eyes. Soronume noticed the appearance of this man had made Niniel quite uncomftable. "If I spoke so loudly, elf, why'd the lady ask me my name again?" Soronume's eyes narrowed at this last remark from Mardath.

Before Soronume could say anything back to the man who sat comfortably at their table, Dorelnar spoke. "Perhaps, Mardath, the lady Elwen did hear you, but was busy enough in her own thoughts not to realise that you had introduced yourself?" Mardath took his gaze off Soronume and towards Dorelnar. "Aye, maybe" his voice softened.

"Well," Mardath continued, shrugging away the tension that had consumed the table, "you now are all aware of my name, but I only the fair Lady Elwen's." He extended his hand and took hers. "Will you not introduce yourselves to me?"

"Yea, Mardath" Soronume was the first to reply and he forced a smile onto his face as he reached out and shook Mardath's hand. He did not take kindly to being called 'elf'. "I am Soronume, sir, and would rather the use of my name than that of my race"

[alaklondewen]

“Estella will you tell me more of your people and this beautiful land,” Waen asked her sincerely. “Why, I would be delighted,” Estella replied. She pulled her skirt up just enough to sit down on the step beside Waen, then smoothed and arranged it appropriately. The air had a wonderful fragrance this evening, and Estella took several deep breaths enjoying it thoroughly.

“Well, hobbits are simple folk. Yes, simple is the right word,” she nodded in agreement. “We don’t go on adventures, or at least the decent folk don’t. The old tales say we used live with the big folk, like they do in that Bree.” She threw her arm out it a vague direction that was supposed to be toward Bree. “Old Marcho and Blanco’s the ones that founded the Shire. That was a long time ago…” Estella continued to tell the elf all about the history of the Shire, or at least as much as she knew and if she didn’t know it…she made it up. The story, of course, included precisely how she was related to everyone she named.

After an inappropriate amount of time talking, Estella finally stopped and turned back to Waen. Putting her hand to her mouth, she coughed twice. “Please, tell me how you found the Shire?” She figured she’d talked the poor elf’s ear off and wanted to hear some of her tale.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

It struck the foreigner as amusing to have a small and relatively sheltered hobbit adopt the self-appointed role of her protector in Bywater's inn. It was very much like her friend though, to rush out and take up a project with out thinking it through properly. Their friendship been a direct result of the trait.

Benia rose to lend assistance to Gilly after she spied the hobbit threading her way around the myraid tables, arms ladened with a dish, cutlery and a tea cup.

"Oh that cup is hot!" exclaimed Gilly. "I thought I'd save some time by providing our own service" she explained with a wink. "Hope you like the food, it's not like Mother's, but I hear it's quite good." She began wiping off the cutlery carefully examining each piece. "But like they say, 'best way to stay well is to eat at home'. I guess you never know who might be washing the dishes at a place like this...."

After her ritual was completed, Gilly seated herself behind the teacup and gazed at Benia not knowing how to begin. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but she was acutely aware of the cultural differences, and dearly did not wish to offend Benia by bring up anything that might be concidered delicate.

[ May 23, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel was suddenly awoken by the sound of a plate hitting the hard wooden floor. She jerked open her eyes and looked towards the place the noise had occurred. She saw a young hobbit-lad. He had apparently been taking the food back to his table when it slipped out of his fingers. He was exactly 24 and a half, with short, curly brown hair. Alatariel could sense his age. She had always been able to sense things, ever since she was little. She felt his embarrassment as several people turned and chuckled. She felt sorry for the young lad, and decided to help him. She got up from the wooden table, and walked towards him. She bended down onto her knee, her dark brown hair tumbling over her shoulder, “Here, I will help you,” she said starting to pick up the food on the floor.

“No that’s okay, you don’t have to. I’m fine,” he said. He looked up at Alatariel’s face. His dark brown eyes met hers. Suddenly there was a flash of light only visible to the both of them. They saw into each other’s lives, knowing all the pain both of them had been through. Then, they were suddenly jerked out of the daze.

“Please, allow me,” Alatariel continued to help pick up the food. They soon had all the food on the plate. Alatariel stood up back on her feet. She reached out her hand gently, “Here, let me help you up.”

The hobbit grasped her hand firmly. His hands were damp from sweating. They were very warm. She pulled him up gently. “Thank you,” he said gratefully, still embarrassed about the incident.

“It’s no trouble, just helping out,” she replied.

“Well, thank you. See you around,” the hobbit said taking the plate up to the bar.

Alatariel was pleased at the thought of helping someone out. She walked back up to the bar, feeling quite a bit thirsty. She looked out the window to see what time it was. Rain poured outside, making her unable to find out what time it was. She put her hood down, and then put back her shawl, revealing a sky blue gown. It flowed all the way down to the floor. Strolling to the bar, she saw several people leave the Inn. She walked up to the bar, and sat on a stool next to what appeared to be an elf. She had dark, brown hair, and soft grey eyes. She seemed to be enjoying her drink, which Alatariel could not recognize, but it looked tasty. The bartender walked over to her, “May I help you?”

“Yes, I’d like what this lady hear is having,” she pointed to the reddish liquid in the container.

“Okay, I’ll have you one in just a second,” the person said walking away. She arrived back shortly with a glass of the reddish liquid.

“Umm, excuse me, but what is this called?” Alatariel asked.

“It’s a homemade thing. Fairly knew. No name yet.”

“Oh, okay,” Alatariel began to sip at the beverage. She slowly drifted away from reality. She was thinking back to her past. She reached into her pouch, and pulled out the gold locket, and then began to feel the patterns along it.

[ May 22, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Elora]

When Derufin stepped past Silvanis and changed the odds considerably, Vanwe had all but abandoned her strategy to try to talk her way out of the predictament. Her expression became one of startlement as he stepped forward and took her wrist into his hands. He held it easily and gently probed. There was no anger in his hands and confusion whirled around Vanwe.

"No," she softly replied in surprise. At least, not yet. Derufin released her and she grasped to make some sense of events. Why had he named her a lady when it was clear to see her rank was far from such lofty heights? He had given her the blanket and food? Perhaps she would not loose her hand.

"I... I can pay for the bread," Vanwe added as he studied her. Her eyes slid to where Silvanis still held the contents of her pouch. He was watching intently, having read the names and notes on the pape he had. Self consciously, she plucked at some of the straw that had remained with her after her tumble through the hay in the loft above. The idea that a beggar had anything of value with which to pay for food should have had Derufin amused or puzzled.

"I have three coppers," she said in a firmer voice, straightening a little. They were her last three, but if it kept her hand attached to her wrist then it was a small price to keep herself whole. "And I would not have left with your blanket."

In demonstration of that statement, she removed it from her shoulders and noted the state it was in. Vanwe's cheeks coloured faintly as she shook at it and she offered it to Derufin with an earnest smile, taking a small step forward. Silvanis still had not moved. He was looking carefully at her face and fear lanced through Vanwe that like many others he had mistaken her for her mother.

Yet even as she stood uncertainly in the stable with two men who could easily haul her away for squatting, theft and her mother's crimes, something else occured to Vanwe. He had given her the blanket and bread. Puzzled, she gazed at Derufin with her head cocked to one side. Such kindness mystified Vanwe.

"Thankyou, sir. I really can pay," she said. "If three coppers are not enough, then I can work."

Vanwe had no idea how much bread cost, for she had never purchased it before which was why she had thought she had not purchased the current loaf in question. And she could indeed work. Despite her slender size, the villagers had soon learnt how their elven fosterling could be put to use and so kept from the mischief her mother found.

She tried as best she could to smooth her hair into some semblance of order, remove the straw and dust from her cloak and dress and somehow create the impression she was more reputable than her appearance may suggest. From beneath the detrius of the stables and a hard road from Harad, Vanwe endeavoured to smile as best she could for sometimes people responded well to her smile and Derufin did not seem angry. That little she could understand. Yet her eyes slid to Silvanis who had remained silent and motionless. He had an intent expression on her face and Vanwe could not but wonder whether she was again to run afoul in a wide world that was no longer an elven demense and dangerous for the cast off daughter of one of Sauron's most notorious allies.

Perhaps, if all else fails, she would need to run. In storm she could try to loose them. Another study of Silvanis faded that hope somewhat. He did not look to be someone easily lost in storms or wilderness. How could she have come all this way to be cornered in a stable? She should never have left the village.