The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Lalwendë]

The tears almost welled up again in Jinniver’s pale eyes as Aman offered her kindness and comfort. Sipping her tea and savouring the warmth, she smiled weakly. She did not want to tell Aman the whole sorry tale of her past. Besides she would hear it soon enough now she had told it to Andwise and Derufin. It was this past that had driven her brother to be so protective, to watch her like a falconer might watch his bird.

“Aman, “ she said, quietly, looking the innkeeper in the eyes and smiling sadly. “What it is to have a protector so keen he would wish you to be kept under lock and key.” Aman looked at her with a question formed on her lips, but Jinniver stayed her thoughts. “That is my own brother. He is pompous, he is brash and he is a fool, but I know he does it for love.”

“Yet that is something you don’t need, do you? Your brother's love is stifling your own life” said Aman wisely.

“Indeed, I am choked by his so-called care,” Jinniver stiffened a little, feeling courage as she said the words. “Am I not grown? Can I not find my own way in this world?” She looked down again. “But what can I do against such an immovable force? I even come here and he follows me, thinks I am up to no good.”

Aman nodded, and grimaced thinking of how Pegram had pushed her out of the way as he strode stormily to the door. He was a temperamental man she could see that. “Sometimes,” she said, “Those around us, who care for us, do not know how to show it best.”

Taken by these words, Jinniver smiled a little again, yet it was still a sad smile. “I must find out how I can show my brother that his caring instead causes hurt.”

***

Outside in the cold night air, Pegram stamped his feet to keep warm. He remembered the pouch of tobacco he had on him and decided to smoke his pipe. Watching the little clouds go up into the air, he thought of how his sister had almost come to grief when that southerner had tried to get her to leave Bree with him. He knew what he had been after, not his sister’s affection, but the farm. He knew the man would have come with his gang and turned his father and sister out, or worse. The thought of it still angered him.

But now he felt ill at ease. He had won the argument, but still his sister did not seem happy that he was there to protect her. She seemed to hate him. He didn’t like the feeling, but he was too proud to go back in and talk to her.

***

Jinniver and Aman finished their tea, both now feeling more relaxed. Aman tried to make Jinniver laugh by joking about Pegram’s march to of the inn, and her jesting had some effect. Jinniver now had a wide smile on her face, but her eyes were still close to tears.

“You need to sleep on this,” said Aman, pushing her chair back. “I will arrange for your brother to be found a room. Oh, it will be one of the best, mark my words.” and she gave Jinniver a significant wink as she got up from the table.

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth jumped, nearly falling off his chair. He must have dozed off. He scolded himself for falling asleep. He was far from home and didn`t dare trust anyone.

"It must be getting late," he thought to himself. He began to consider going to his room, but decided to stay up a little longer, despite his weariness. He had gladly accepted some food and drink from a kind hobbit lass called Buttercup earlier, but was thirsty again.

He stood slowy and moved closer to the tables where people sat. "No this it too close," he thought. He started to move a little further away, and then stopped himself. "Maybe I want to be noticed. It would be nice to have a friend." He pulled up a chair at an empty table and waited for a server to bring him a drink.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree

Fáinu's words lingered in her mind. Cree knew now that it didn't matter what happened on the journey ahead, she wouldn't loose the one she held so close to her heart. "Fáinu 'tis getting late. If we are to be leaving here tomorrow then perhaps we should say goodbye for the night and meet back here in the morning." Cree knew that she wouldn't sleep at all. She waited for the arrival of the next day. Dearest Avalon, I know its going to be hard staying here all by yourself, but it is what's best for the both of us.

Cree looked around the inn and didn't see her old companion. What has become of Avalon? Its been a day since I let her go away and now it seems like an eternity since I last saw her. "Fáinu I'll see you in the morning. I must get some sleep or else I won't be able to even mount my horse in the morning." Cree turned towards the stair case a proceeded towards her room for the night. She remembered clearly the last time she had stayed in that room. It had been months ago and Grimm was there with her to keep her company. But now it was just her and no one else.

Cree opened the wooden door and just waited for the sound of the hinges squeeking, but it never came. Cree stepped through the door and looked around the room. It was just the way she remembered it. The bed was in the same place, just a few feet from the window. The color of the walls hadn't changed and Cree knew that she was back to the world that she loved. The window was open and just a slight breeze was causing the curtains to move. What a lot of sleep I'll be able to get tonight. Perhaps the best sleep I've had in a long time.

She walked over to the bed and placed her pack on the wooden floor. Everything seemed the same, nothing had changed except time itself. Cree thought she heard a sound behind her. She turned only to see that her old friend was perched in the window."Avalon...." Cree's words rolled out of her mouth. Avalon was there one last time. But before Cree could touch her friend, the white crow turned a flew away. I know. I shouldn't have let you go. But you are your own bird and you don't need me to hold you back. Cree walked back to the bed to sit down only to have a tear roll down her cheek. "I'm sorry Avalon." Cree stood up and walked back down stairs. Fáinu was still seated in the same seat. How can I sleep when Avalon haunts my memories. "So you haven't left yet. Perhaps one more mug of ale before bed time?" Cree smiled as she pulled the wooden chair back so she could take her seat again.

[piosenniel]

The dishes were done; the flour and bowls were on the table, awaiting the early morning task of daily breadmaking. The staff had all been sent to bed. Tomorrow would be the start of two days of final preparations for the handfasting. The last of the baking would need to be done; the Inn decorated; the lantern lights strung in the trees about the Inn’s front yard.

Cook set out the baskets for the lasses to gather eggs from the hens in the morning, banked the little hearth fire, and placed a tea pot in waiting near it for her early morning cuppa. Last thing on her list was fresh water for the cat . . . no, she reminded herself . . . cats, now. The old grey tabby had settled into her nest of old blankets near the fire. But the other one, the new one, was still out and about on whatever rounds he’d thought up for himself. She left one of the small windows near the back door open a crack in case he chose to come in.

One last look about the kitchen, then her tired old feet slap-slapped across the clean wood floor and into her room.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger peeked in the window of the kitchen door. The room, or what she could see of it was dark, save for the banked glow from the fireplace, and the one small lamp Cook left lit on the drain board by the stone sink. It threw out a soft glow, guiding any thirsty person to the pitcher of water she left out near the stack of mugs. ‘Cook’s in bed already, she whispered to Ferdy, who’d seen her back safely to Inn. ‘Best I’d be getting in myself. There’s so much to finish before the party.’ She barely stifled a yawn, hiding it as she could behind her hand. ‘And besides, I’m quite tired really. That walk has just about done me in.’ She threw a quick smile at Ferdy. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?’

She touched his arm lightly as she asked the question, wishing quite hard that he would say ‘yes’. He smiled back at her, a quite foolish grin, really, and said nothing. Just bent toward her straight away and planted a hasty kiss on her cheek. He stepped back then, giving her a little wave and strolled off with a light step. Ginger returned the wave, then closed and locked the kitchen door securely. She leaned back for a moment against the door, hugging her cloak tight about her. Shivering, but not from the cold night air.

The old tabby raised a sleepy eye at her, and mewed in an inquiring manner. ‘Just fine – no need to worry,’ Ginger whispered with a giggle; then, collecting herself she took off her cloak and hung it on one of the pegs by the door. With a light step herself, she made her way up the dark stairs to her little room. And it was not long before she found herself settling her head comfortably onto her pillow and falling deeply into pleasant dreams.

[piosenniel]

~*~ NOTICE OF TIME CHANGE IN THE SHIRE ~*~

It is now the next day; very early morning.

The pervasive smell of berried muffins is winding through the Inn. As well as the sounds of bacon popping on their racks over the fire, and the sizzle of scrambled eggs cooking in the great iron skillets on the stove.

Pots of hot tea are being made; bread has been set to toasting.

The clouds of yesterday have cleared away, and the sun is shining brightly as it rises.

[Envinyatar]

Morning came too soon for Derufin. Late into the night, he and Zimzi had talked, enjoying the small talk of close friends. There was an easiness between them, unhindered by their time apart. But night was gone now, and they parted, each to see to their own tasks. ‘Just two days,’ she had told him. ‘And my family will be here to celebrate with us.’ He had leaned in for a little kiss, but she pushed him back with a raised brow. ‘None of that, now! We promised Miz Amaranthas there would be no jiggery-pokery, as she put it.’ He’d made a forlorn face at her, barely concealing a smile as he did so. But she would not be turned from her promise.

With a sigh, and a glance at the quickly setting moon, Derufin took his leave. He stood and offered his hand to her, pulling her to her feet, and close to him. She shook her head and sent him on his way, saying wasn’t there a house to be finishing up for them? And surely he didn’t expect her to live in his dusty quarters in the Inn’s stable, did he? Gently put in his place by her reminders, he watched her as she walked the short way to the old Hobbit’s house. She turned once and waved to him before she went in. With another sigh he mounted his horse and rode back to the Inn.

And now here he was, back at the Inn, yawning over his cup of tea, his head lolling at times over his plate of eggs and toast.

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth rose early, and went outside for a stroll around the Inn, and then went back inside for breakfast.

He took a seat at a table. He listened to the sounds of breakfast being made in the kitchen. He turned his head to look over his shoulder. A man, Derufin, he had been called sat at a table near his. He thought about going over to sit with him, and then shook his head. He looked tired, and as if he didn`t want to be bothered. Keleth turned back around and stared at the table.

[Noinkling]

The tired Hobbit had slept late. Not meaning to, really, but the bed had been so comfortable and the heavy curtains drawn over the small window in the room had kept the sunlight out. Tolly woke with a start. He’d slept so heavily that he was not quite sure where he was. He hopped out of bed, and poured a little water from the pitcher into the washing bowl. A few splashes of the cool liquid against his face and he recalled that he had traveled to Bywater on business and had spent the night at the Inn.

His stomach growled as he dressed hurriedly and ran his fingers through his hair. He could smell the scent of freshly toasted bread and eggs fried in butter. With eager anticipation of a fortifying breakfast, he ran down the stairs and headed through the door to the Common Room.

It was already getting full, he could see as he looked around. But there, to his left was one of the Big Folk, sitting by himself. Tolly walked up to him and put his hand on the chair opposite the man. Keleth, it was, the fellow said, when Tolly introduced himself.

‘Mind if I join you for breakfast?’ Tolly asked.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Strolling slowly into the inn, Fáinu peered around looking fir Cree. Her horse was still outside, he assumed she was still resting. He had expected to see her here in the inn, and complaining about having to wait for him. He ordered a light drink from the bar and sat at the fireside. He thought back to when he had first entered the inn. There he had met Adu, what a turning point that had proved, if she had not kept him there, he would not have seen Cree.

What was he to do? He had a horrible feeling that he would be leading Cree to her death if she came with him. However she had promised to stay by him, not fearing anything, not even death. All choices seemed ill fated. Was he to leave her behind, to die alone some time after ages had passed, curing his name till the end of days? Or to take her to meet death in a horrific and bone chilling way. Either way, he felt his own death would be immanent also, and not less horrendous.

[starkat]

Gwenneth reluctantly got out of bed. Her sleep had been troubled with dreams and she had not slept well. The elf decided to pass on breakfast and go riding instead.

She was pulling on her boots when she realized that her book had fallen to the floor. "I must have fallen asleep reading last night." Picking up the book, she sighed. Gwenneth quickly pulled her hair back and braided it.

Heading down the stairs, the young elf smiled at the patrons as she walked through the room. Once outside, she broke into a slow jog until she reached the barn. "Elenath!" she called. An aswering nicker came from a nearby stall.

Gwenneth greeted her night-black mare and quickly groomed her. "Let's go out for a bit, shall we?" Elenath was as eager to be off as her mistress. Once Gwenneth was astride, she signaled to her horse and they were off.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree looked up from her seat in the corner. She had prefered the solitude the corner had to give. She noticed at the bar was who she was waiting on. Fáinu had finally arrived. She drained the last of the ale she had in her mug. She knew it was still a bit too early to be having ale but she didn't care for today she was leaving. Cree hadn't been able to sleep during the night. Always she was seeing Avalon. The bird was lost to her now.

Cree stood up and walked over to the bar. She placed her left hand on Fáinu's right shoulder. She thought he would sense her presence but instead the elf jumped as if startled by her sudden appearance. "Its about time you got here." Cree had a smile on her face fathoms long. She was glad to be getting away from this place. She was finally going to be out in the world. "So are you ready to go?"

[Nurumaiel]

Up the little pathway to the Green Dragon went Posco, still yawning and rubbing his eyes. His aunt had not been awake when he had left; thank goodness for that! He wanted to have breakfast with Lily before he left, and Aunt Malva would have surely kept him working until she served her own breakfast, which was meagre fare for a young hobbit lad or, indeed, any hobbit. But he had escaped, thankfully. She would probably be angry, but she couldn't do anything about it until his next visit. Yet, he reflected with a sigh, she would remember that he had crept away without a goodbye, and only forget after she had lectured him thoroughly, be that hundreds of years away.

The Common Room was, as usual, a fine sight to Posco's eyes, as well as one that caused him to wonder. Personages of every race were there, waiting for their breakfasts and talking at their ease. Fortunately for the timid and shy hobbit, it was still early in the morning, so there was not a great crowd in the room. He cast a glance about for Lily, and did not see her; he assumed she was still in her room, perhaps just leaving, and so he sat down at their table of last night to wait for her.

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth looked at Tolly, startled. "Uh...of course!" Keleth answered, sitting up straight.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Keleth spoke. "I`m sorry. I must have sounded rude. I didn`t mean to be. It`s just that you are the first person I`ve talked to since I arrived here, save the maid, Buttercup and the Innkeeper. I`m from Gondor, though I don`t really stay put for very long. Are you from these parts?" Immediately Keleth looked down, embarrassed. Tolly was a hobbit. Of course he was from around here.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Looking up, Fáinu saw Cree. She must have been out of sight, or something had blinded him. He did not care much now. He noticed a few hobbits already involved in a drinking game.

"It’s about time you got here." Cree had a smile on her face fathoms long. She was glad to be getting away from this place. She was finally going to be out in the world. "So are you ready to go?"

Fáinu gave her a glance that suggested, "Do not speak so lightly." He rose and drained his mug. He brought forth a map from his already filled pack that had been laid carefully upon the wooden floor.

"Very soon," he said "Look here." he opened out the map on a near by table that was unoccupied. He pointed to the shire and moved his finger along the road leading to Rivendel. "This is our first destination," he continued, "if all goes well, we will need to find a way over the misty mountains and then we shall pass though Mirkwood. There we may stay a while and speak with friends of old. Then to the lonely mountain to meet with Dwaline the dwarf. And then... to the grey mountains." his voice grew in fear and foreboding, he looked at her, expecting the same emotions, but he did not see this.

Cree tilted her head in confusion; she did not quite understand the path. What was their mission, why were they going? He had told her nothing save going to Rivendel.

"i apologise Cree," he said, "I had almost forgotten. I must ask but one thing, trust me in this. All shall become clear. The aim of this journey will be clear, if you have not guessed it already. All I will say now is that lives are in danger even as we speak."

[Noinkling]

‘Are you from these parts?’ the man asked.

Tolly looked up from his plate of eggs, chewing them thoughtfully. How should he answer this question? Placing his fork down on the rim of his plate he looked up at Keleth. ‘Well, for someone whose come from as far away as it looks you have, you might say I’m from these parts,’ he began. ‘But where I’m from, the western edge of the Shire, folk don’t travel much. So, yes, I’m from the Shire, but I’ve never been here in Bywater before.’ He took a slice of toast and spread it thickly with berry jam. ‘Come here on business. That’s what got me out of Greenholm and set me down the road to the Dragon.

The Hobbit chewed off a generous hunk of toast, washing it down with a cup of sweet, hot tea. He was feeling quite relaxed after a good night’s sleep. And what with a belly food of good Inn fare, he was also feeling quite expansive. The man looked friendly enough, he decided, and not one to try to turn another’s business to himself. No harm in telling him what he planned to do. ‘My gaffer and me are thinking of getting up an Inn on the main road heading to the west hills; one like they have here in Bywater,’ he confided to his tablemate. ‘I’m here to have a look about. See what makes the place tick. How they organize things.’ He looked about at the now full Common Room, thinking how well everything was run here.

‘Oh my, here I’ve gone on and on about myself. Where’s my manners, as my Ma would say. What about you? What brings you here to the Shire? Are you passing further west? Or going east?’ Tolly took another drink from his mug awaiting his companion’s response.

[Nimrodel_9]

"Starting your own Inn? That sounds like a lot of work!" Keleth said surprised.

"As for me, I don`t really know what I`m doing here. Back in Gondor I was a messanger for King Elessar at times, but normally I worked in the stables at an Inn. I grew tired of the work. I had been working there since I was 10 years of age, when my father died. I am now 22. So, I set out out to see the world. I probably shouldn`t have. My mother died when I was very young, but I left my older sister, Taryn. She said she would miss me dearly, but was glad for me. My travels brought me here. I suppose I will go west. I would like to see what the sea is like on this side of Middle-earth."

Keleth stopped. He was surprised at himself for telling so much about himself to a stranger, but Tolly had asked. He didn`t want to seem too mysterious.

[Arry]

‘Don’t yawn so loudly,’ came the voice at Derufin’s elbow. Andwise pulled out a chair and sat down carefully in it. Derufin grinned at him and spoke softly. ‘Looks like the Dragon got hold of you, Andwise. You going to be able to do the finishing on the cottage today?’ The Hobbit nodded his head gently, wincing a bit as the headache flared for a moment. Motioning one of the servers over, he got himself a cup and poured it full of hot, strong tea. Two spoonsful of honey later and a few sips and he was ready to face the day . . . more or less . . .

‘You don’t look so good yourself,’ Andwise returned, filling the man’s cup. He sat back in his chair, fingers clasped around his cup for warmth, letting the fragrant steam clear his head. ‘But no matter how we feel, we’ve got to finish up today,’ he said, Derufin nodded his head and tucked into his meal. The man waved his fork at his tablemate, saying how Zimzi had reminded him quite firmly of the same thing, just last night.

Andwise laughed; then, sat his cup on the table and rubbed at his temples. ‘Best you get used to that, Derufin. The lasses can plant their fetching feet as solidly as any peevish pony and hold the line when they want something done.’ He raised his cup in salute to the man. ‘Oh, aye, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

Derufin raised his own cup and drained it down. Grabbing up several slices of toast from the basket on the table, the man tucked them into one of the pockets in his vest, motioning for the Hobbit to follow him out the door. Once outside, Andwise ambled alongside him, lighting his pipe as they walked along.

[Firefoot]

Lily awoke ready to leave the Green Dragon behind. It was a new day, and yesterday's tribulations seemed not so important. She got up and dressed, wearing a dress more fitted for travelling. It was early still, and thinking that Posco would not be at the Inn just yet, she lingered in her room to pack up the few posessions she had brought along. She left the filled saddlebags by the door to be retrieved after breakfast and headed downstairs.

She spotted Posco sitting at the same table that they had used last night, and went directly to the table. He had seen her as well and stood as she approached.

"Good morning, Posco," she greeted. "I didn't think you would be here already... but I'm glad you are."

"I thought we could have breakfast together before we left," he explained, smiling shyly. "Good morning, Lily."

"Breakfast does sound good," said Lily. The tantalizing scent of muffins and eggs was making her mouth water. She waved one of the hobbit maids over and ordered two breakfasts which came promptly: generous servings of bacon and eggs with large muffins and steaming hot tea. A small sample of everything proved the breakfast to taste every bit as delicious as it looked. Lily was torn whether she wanted to savor or inhale the food and thereby prolonging or hastening her departure respectively, and so the meal was over both too soon and not soon enough. They ate in companionable silence that was not uncomfortable, for each knew that there would be plenty of time in the coming days to say anything they wanted to.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger had left her door open at the top of the stairs. The warmth from the kitchen’s fire drifted up that way and kept her little room cozy. Still she snuggled under the thick quilt Buttercup had found for her in the linen closet, wriggling her toes in her warm little nest, and drowsing. Ginger heard the shuffle of feet across the slate floor as Cook left her room downstairs, followed by the meow! of greeting as the old tabby called out for her saucer of warm milk.

With the click-clack of Cook’s spoon against her first mug morning tea, Ginger threw back her covers and walked to the little table that held the basin and pitcher of water. She poured a little water into the basin and swished her face cloth about in the chilly liquid. A few swipes to her face brought her wide awake. She threw off her night dress and put on her skirt and blouse, smoothing out the few wrinkles with her hands. A few strokes with her brush pushed her curls into place; a quick twist of her nimble fingers and her ribbon was in place, holding the coppery mass back from her face.

‘Well, Ginger,’ she said grinning into her little mirror, ‘Guess you’re ready for a full day of baking pies and cookies for the festivities tomorrow. She pinched a little crimson into her cheeks and bit her lips lightly bringing a little stain of color to them. Perhaps Ferdy would come into the Inn for lunch . . . she thought to herself. Giving a last quick smile to the mirror she flew down the stairs.

[piosenniel]

Help yourself to some tea, dear,’ said Cook as Ginger came into the kitchen. ‘I hope your Fair Folk friend, Gwenneth, will be joining us. I want you two to make up the sugar cookies today – early , if you please, so they’ll cool by afternoon. You’re to use the flower-shaped cookie cutters and frost them up prettily.’ Cook ambled over to the oven and took out a several pans of blueberry muffins, letting them cool for a few moments then turning them out on racks where others were already lined up. ‘Have a muffin or two, also with your tea. T’will be a longish day, I should think.’

Cook sat down for a few moments, to have another cup of tea, herself. Buttercup and Ruby had by this time come down the stairs and had joined the two Hobbits at the little table. ‘We’ll start the soup right away, Miz Bunce,’ Buttercup said, taking a big bite of well buttered muffin. Won’t have to worry about lunch then, save for slicing up the bread to go along with it.’ She nodded at Ruby who was still in her robe and yawning widely. ‘The rooms for Mistress Zimzi’s folks are all ready for when they show up today. We just have a few personal touches to put on them . . . flowers and such.’

Several of the extra servers who’d come to help at the Inn for this week bustled in and out of the kitchen, serving breakfast to the already hungry patrons. Scrambled eggs, muffins, thick slices of ham, and toast, too were all parading out to the common room, the empty trays returning quickly for refill.

Getting up from the table once her tea was finished, Cook went to the pantry and began hauling out flour and eggs and leavening, sweet cream butter, vanilla, fine-spun sugar, and from the cold larder, a pitcher of frothy cream. She hummed a merry tune to herself as she trundled her prizes to one of the empty counters; then, fetching a stool, she climbed up to look into one of the cupboards, the top shelf. There were her round cake pans of varying sizes, the ones she used for the graceful tower cakes she made for special occasions. While the others finished their breakfasts, she buttered and dusted each one carefully with flour, then set them aside to await the batter. ‘Going to frost it all in light foamy icing,’ she said, as she got out her big bowls for the batter, along with her whisk and her wooden spoon. ‘A soft white, I think. And you remember those sugared violets you made, Ginger, your first day here?’ Ginger nodded her head, recalling there had been at least a hundred of them she’d done, now all stored safely away on racks in a cool part of the pantry. ‘Well,’ continued Cook, ‘I’m gong to put them on the frosting, all over the cake.’ She grinned and clapped her hands together. ‘It’ll look so pretty, the bees’ll be wanting to carry it off for their queen.’

[Noinkling]

‘A messenger for the King, eh? What was he like, if you don’t mind me asking?’

Neither Tolly nor any of his family had ever seen the High King from Gondor. And what stories they had heard of him had filtered down to them from their relations in Tuckburrough. He remembered hearing the King lived in a great tall building atop a high mountain of sorts and that his wife was one of the Fair Folk. And that many people came there to see him. It was told, he recalled, that the King was a fair man and just; one to be trusted to keep to his word.

Before Keleth could answer, he asked one more question. ‘Now I heard a story,’ he said, scratching the back of his head, ‘that the King used to be one of them Rangers. Is that true? My gaffer told me about the few he met, wandering about the countryside . . . almost like ghosts, they blended in so well, he said. I remember he used to get a sort of shiver when he’d talk about their grey eyes and how a certain light seemed to shine behind them. Almost like they’d look right through you, he’d say in a low voice.’

Taking a warm muffin one of the servers had just brought out, Tolly pulled it in two and slathered it with butter. Now wouldn’t that be something he thought to himself as he helped himself to a little jam, too . . . if the King and his fair lady would visit the Shire, and even better his family’s Inn! Chewing on the welcome treat, he waited patiently for Keleth to tell him about the King.

[piosenniel]

‘Whoa up, Nobby! There’s a girl!’ The little brown pony turned off the path to the Inn’s front door, making for the stables at a quick pace. The sooner the stable was reached, he knew, and the cart unharnessed from him, the sooner he’d have a warm, cozy stall to stand in and a small rick of sweet hay to munch on, And perhaps, if he looked longingly enough, there would be a crisp little apple to crunch.

Zimzi guided him up to the double doors with a deft hand. Young master Meriadoc stepped out with a grin, and leaned his shovel against the doorframe. ‘Just cleaned out a stall for you, Nobby,’ he murmured confidentially to the nickering pony, scratching him affectionately between the ears. He grabbed hold the bridle, holding the pony and cart still as Zimzi got down. ‘Nice to see you back, Mistress,’ the Hobbit said, as they made quick work of freeing Nobby. ‘I’ve made room for your family’s horses, and their wagon . . . just waiting for them to show up.’

‘Thank you, my dear Merry,’ Zimzi returned, smiling. ‘I can hardly wait to see them. It was all I could do not to set out west to meet them on the road.’ She patted Nobby on the rump as Merry turned him into the stall. ‘Of course, this old fellow was bound and determined we were headed back to the Inn, and would have none of my indecision as to whether we should turn east or west!’ The two companions laughed at the image of the stubborn pony. Nobby flicked his ears at the two of them, and nodded his head up and down as if he had understood every word.

From the stable, Zimzi could see the light from the kitchen shining through the back door’s window. Cook would be up and about the Inn’s business she knew, and welcome order would be brought to bear on whatever series of unseen events fell upon the day. Gathering up her skirt and cloak to keep them from the damp dirt between the stable and the Inn, Zimzi hurried to the door, entering without knocking. ‘Hello!’ she called to those sitting about the table. ‘I’ve done with my choosing of flowers and making the arrangements for the party tables. Miz Amaranthas and one of Samwise’s boys will be bringing them in early tomorrow morning.’ She glanced round the kitchen, looking for Cook, and found her just coming out of the pantry. ‘My hands, and legs, and strong back, if needed, are at your service, my good Miz Bunce,’ she said, running to help Cook with the sacks of flour and sugar she was lugging into the kitchen proper. She plunked the sacks where Cook directed, then took a seat at the table.

‘Just have a cuppa tea,’ Cook said, pouring more hot water over fresh leaves in the pot on the table. ‘We’ll sort out what you can help with after another round of hot muffins with butter and jam.’ She eyed the woman in a considering manner as the basket of muffins was passed round. ‘I think I’ll set you to the slicing of the ham and cheese for the platters.’ Cook poured another round of tea once she’d determined it had brewed just so. ‘And once you’re done with that, then you can wash up the small pots in that cupboard over there, and get them filled with mustards and piccalilli from the larger crocks at the back of the pantry.’

Zimzi nodded her head ‘yes’ at Cook’s request as she piled her muffin with strawberry jam. Buttercup was just waiting for her turn to talk, and as soon as cook was done, she began asking the woman questions . . . what flowers had she chosen . . . and how was she going to wear her hair . . . what was her Ma like, and her brothers and her Da . . . was there anything special she would like done for them. The list went on and on, with others of the servers asking their own little questions as one would pause for breath. Zimzi answered as best she could, but she was hard put to keep up with them . . .

It was Cook who finally brought an end to the inquiries, saying there was work to be done. Zimzi mouthed a ‘thank-you’ toward her and stood to help clear the table. Ruby and Buttercup ran upstairs to get dressed for the day and were soon back down, joining the others in the tasks appointed them.

[Tevildo]

By the time morning came, Tevildo was perched on the steps of the Green Dragon cleaning and arranging his long, fluffy coat. He was not looking especially well today. One of his ears appeared slightly chewed and was tilted at a rather unusual angle, as if he had just come back from some dissolute errand.

This cursory impression was not far from the truth. In hopes of avoiding his mistress who'd unexpectedly turned up at suppertime, Tevildo had slipped outside and slunk down the road, spending the long night hours caterwauling with a feline member of the Gamgee household named Mushroom, a mouser who resided in the Hobbit family's barn. Although the family lived several miles distant, she had curtly informed the newcomer that the entire region of Hobbiton and Bywater was under her personal jurisdiction, and that no cat could take up residence without her personal consent.

Tevildo had strenuously objected, arguing that he had been hired on as a mouser at the Green Dragon and, therefore, had no need of anyone's aproval. Mushroom had not been impressed. She contended that the two-leggeds could make whatever arrangements they cared to, but no cat was coming into Hobbiton unless she personally approved the arrangement.

Losing his temper, Tevildo had countered with a stinging comment about the 'pint-sized master' of the Gamgee household. That had not gone over well. Despite Mushroom's earlier insistence that she was a free and independent feline, one who had no affection for her two-legged hosts, she had apparently taken these comments to heart. Thirty minutes later, Tevildo found himself at the bottom of a pile of several neighborhood cats, scraping and clawing his way out. Then, he turned tail and raced back to the Inn.

Once he had completed his morning grooming and repaired the damage to his ear as best he could, he mounted the steps to the Inn and pressed his small pink nose firmly up against the front door, waiting for someone to push it open. He did not have long to wait. There seemed to be a great deal of excitement in the air, with people bustling to and fro in anticipation of some unknown event, something which held no interest for Tevildo other than a possible source of things to eat and drink. As the door swung open, Tevildo padded inside and was greeted with aloud and triumphant cry, "You naughty kitty! Where have you been? I've been here all night, worrying about what you've gotten into. Now come say hello to me right away!"

Tevildo meowed piteously as he was swept up by a firm hand and plopped into the skirts of a chubby grey-haired woman with warm brown eyes and the hint of a smile on her face.

[Envinyatar]

Derufin’s eyes often strayed to the main road as he walked along the cottage roof, checking for any remaining loose shingles. Zimzi said she would be coming in today to help with the final preparations. And most of all to greet her parents. A shower of pebbles rattled off the roof, drawing his attention downward to the two Hobbits peering up at him.

‘F’you’re done . . . uh . . . gawking up there,’ came Tomlin’s voice, a grin plastered on his face, ‘then you might want to come help us finish the last of the inside work.’ Derufin could hear Gil, standing in Tomlin’s shadow, trying to stifle a snicker.

‘Hang on a bit, you two!’ Derufin laughed, sliding down the slope toward them. Crouching down at the roof’s edge, he peered down at the two. ‘Give a poor besotted man a small measure of grace,’ he pleaded, hand over his heart, in an exaggerated manner. Tomlin and Gil looked at each other, sighing back in just as dramatic a way. ‘Come down now,’ Gil called up to him, hands on his hips for emphasis. ‘We heard what you said to Andwise at breakfast . . . Mistress Zimzi has spoken – no finished up cottage, no handfasting.’ Derufin put up his hands in mock surrender and clambered off the roof. As he did so he caught the movement of a familiar little cart and pony nearing the turn in to the Inn. He lost his footing trying to get a better look and fell to the ground with a whump.

Gil and Tomlin slapped the dust from the fall off themselves as they watched the chagrined man stand up. They shook their hands and laughed as Derufin clapped his hand to the small of his back and limped into the cottage. ‘Come on,’ he said to the two Hobbits. ‘I’m down now . . . let’s get started.’ From the front porch he heard Andwise chuckling as he applied the final sanding and polishing to the new front door.

‘I am beset by unsympathetic Halflings . . . and here on the eve of my most joyful day.’ This statement was met with loud howls of laughter and the offering of a hammer and a handful of finishing nails as a peace offering. Andwise peeked in the door as Derufin knelt down to finish securing some of the moulding. ‘Perhaps Cook will send her over with the midday meal . . .’ he offered.

Ferdy stopped his painting in mid swipe and smiled toward Derufin. ‘And perhaps my Ginger will come with her . . .’

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth also took a muffin, and chewed it thoughtfully. What was the King like?

"Well, he is a very kind and generous man. Very skilled in battle, and knows what he is doing when making decisions. Yes, he was a Ranger, Strider he was called in these parts. Your gaffer is right about a Ranger`s eyes. They are the most striking of all their traits. Whenever he looked at me I couldn`t help but look away. They seem to go right through you, searching your mind and your heart." Keleth`s own dark eyes took on a far away look. "As piercing as they seem, they are kind, and knowing. He always seemed to understand me when no one else did. If I do not return to Gondor I will miss him very much. He and his fair queen. Almost as much as my dear sister, Taryn."

"If I do not return," he said softly to himself.

[Noinkling]

Before he could help himself, Tolly blurted out his next question. He’d been following along with what Keleth was saying and could hardly believe his ears at the last statement. Or the last two statements, really. ‘What do you mean, if you do not return?’ he asked without thinking. The very thought of not wanting to be back in your homeland among friends and especially among family perplexed him. Or maybe Keleth did want to go back but something stood in his way. ‘I can’t think of a single reason why I would want to be apart from my family. Much as they drive me quite mad at times, I just can’t fathom being alone. And so far away from your homeland, too.’

‘You sound like you miss your sister already . . . and the way you speak I’ll bet she misses you, also.’ Tolly leaned across the table and spoke low. ‘Is there something awful that stands in your way from being together with her? And what about the King – he sounds like a helpful fellow. Couldn’t he lend a hand?’

Tolly leaned back in his chair, his cheeks a little red from his impulsive questions. Surely the man would think him quite cheeky for putting his nose where it didn’t belong. ‘Oh, my,’ he said in apology, ‘don’t mind me and my forward tongue. I haven’t met many outsiders. I tend to forget your ways might not be ours when it comes to various things.’ The Hobbit stirred a spoonful of honey into his mug of tea, and sat sipping it. He was rather enjoying getting to know Keleth he thought to himself, and he hoped his questions had not put the man off . . .

[Primrose Bolger]

Breakfast was done; the dishes all cleared away and washed up. Cook was busy with her task . . . the layered cake. And there, on the other side of the kitchen was Miss Zimzi, stacking the platters to be used for the slices of ham and cheese. Ginger busied herself getting together what she needed for her own cookie making. From the corner of her eye she watched Miss Zimzi. She was pretty, in a quiet sort of way. And graceful, she thought. She had a quick smile for those about her. Derufin certainly seemed to like her quite a lot, Ginger thought. The Hobbit’s eye lingered on the woman, following her movements. She ducked her head away, blushing, as Zimzi caught her gaze, and smiled.

‘Quit your gawking, Ginger!’ she told herself firmly, drawing the small bag of flour toward her. ‘There’ll be time enough to talk with her when we’re done here.’ She picked up a cup and began measuring the flour into the big crockery bowl. Her hand reached for the tablespoon she’d set out, to measure in the leavening, but only the bare wood of the table met her fingers. She turned to look at the place where she’d put it. Empty . . .

‘I saw one of the servers borrow it, when you’d gone to get the sugar,’ came the voice from behind her. ‘Here, take one of mine. I can always get another one when it’s time to put the mustard in the little pots . . .’

[starkat]

Gwenneth felt like she had not been out long enough, but she knew she had to get back. The smell of the breakfast she had missed could be smelt even from outside as she and Elenath trotted up to the barn.

"Well mellon, I guess I should return. I did say I would help again today." The elf woman lightly sprang from her mare's back and returned her to her stall.

Gwenneth realized that she needed to clean up a bit before going into the kitchen, so she went to her room. I wish I could have ridden longer, but I cannot leave them after offering my help. She laughed softly to herself. My mother raised me better then that. I really should not have gone riding at all this morning.

The young elf quickly changed out of her riding clothes and headed downstairs. She nodded to the other patrons as she walked by. The young elf slipped in through the kitchen door and saw Cook working on a layered cake. "Excuse me, Cook. Forgive me for being late. Is there anything you would like me to help with today?"

The sun was shining, Anawiel stood in the shadow of an oak tree, yet a thin ray of light had managed to weave through the leaves of the tree and shine onto the patch of green grass beneath her feet. Making up her mind Ana walked upto the door of the Green Dragon Inn, she pushed the door and it swung open with no sound.

She walked across to the bar and sat on a stool there. There was a certain contentment in the air, it looked and smelt as if everyone had just had their breakfast. Ana rose to her feet and walked across to an emtpy table -she preferred to be in the shadows it reminded her of home, oh how she missed Mirkwood, she sat down again and thought about her journey here so far.

As she was day-dreaming a sudden thought occured to her, was she the only elven female here? Then, at that moment an elven female came in and went out the back. At least she wouldn't look suspicious anymore, well as long as there were other elves around she wouldn't, but were those other elves Rangers like her?

[Tevildo]

Mistress Ellie fondled the round white fluffball that was curled up placidly on her lap and leaned over to plant a kiss on top of Tevildo's furry head, whispering in his ear, "When are you going to settle down? Out all night carrousing! Shame on you."

Ellie could never understand how a sweet looking kitty, one with eyes so mysterious and a coat of silky-soft fur, could behave in the way he had done last night. Tevildo looked like the kind of cat who should be curled up on a mat beside a roaring hearth, perhaps owned by a fine lady with soft rustling gowns who lived in a very large house. But Ellie was not such a fine lady, and did not even own a house of her own. And however fine and sweet Tevildo might look to outside eyes, he had always been a bit of a hooligan, eager to pick fights with other cats.

Seeing the deep scratch on her cat's left ear, Ellie frowned and shook her head, as she reached into an oversized canvas bag, drawing out a bottle with a fragrant smelling tincture. She gently rubbed the mixture over the tip of Tevildo's ear, making sure to cover all the injured spots. Once Ellie had done that to her own satisfaction, she took a few tidbits of sausage off her own breakfast platter and set these down on the floor to share with Tevildo. The cat had slipped off her lap and was rubbing his shoulder against her knee, purring rhythmically. Once he had discovered the sausage and begun to eat, Tevildo quickly lost interest in his owner's knee and turned his attention to the food.

At least, I still have something to share with my cat. With that thought, Ellie glanced anxiously about the Common Room. She had rented a chamber from the Innkeeper but there were only enough coins in her pocket to pay for a night or two. Her dress was neatly stitched and darned, but her threadbare cloak with its material worn thin suggested that she was pitifully near the end of her resources. She wished she had a heavier cloak to keep out the cold drafts that were circulating in the room. Her knees and back still ached from the long miles she had marched down the road. Her fingers felt stiff and not as responsive as she would like. She couldn't blame that on the open road.

Perhaps, she was too old for this kind of life. Perhaps she should settle down somewhere. But where or how was still a mystery.

Glancing over at the next table, she saw an Elf approaching. Ellie noticed it was a woman, but wearing clothes that were different from most of the other Elves she had seen......not that she had seen too many Elves. Still, it wouldn't do to be unfriendly. She smiled at the newcomer and observed. "You look tired. Have you come a long way?"

[piosenniel]

Zimzi held out a spoon to Ginger. ‘Here, take one of mine,’ she said to the wide-eyed Hobbit. The spoon gone from her fingers, she picked up several of the cookie cutters Cook had piled on the table for Ginger’s use. ‘These are lovely,’ she said looking at a tulip, a daisy, and a small, star-shaped one. She held the last one up and turned it over in her hands. ‘What’s this?’ she asked. ‘I don’t recognize it.’

Gwenneth came up to the table, having been asked by Cook to help Ginger with the cookies. She took the cookie cutter in her delicate fingers and held it up, smiling as she did so. ‘Why that’s elanor,’ she told the woman. ‘It’s a beautiful golden flower . . . sun golden. My people are quite fond of it.’ Gwenneth called across the room to Cook, asking who had made the cookie cutters. ‘My dear husband made them for me,’ Cook said. ‘A long time ago. Called them his everlasting bouquet for me, he did.’ She wiped her hands on her apron and came over to see which one they were looking at. ‘Oh,’ she said, taking the star-shaped cutter in her hand. ‘But not that one . . . t’was Master Samwise what made me that one, a few years after his daughter was born. She’s got quite the sweet-tooth, that one! Always make up a small basket of them with bright yellow frosting for her when her birthday comes round.’

Introductions were made by Cook, with an apology that it had not been done earlier. Zimzi thanked them both for helping out with the party, then went back to her meats and cheeses trays. Ginger and Gwenneth had the cookie dough done in no time and had just put it in the cooler to set up, when Cook called them over to help out with something else.

‘I’d do it myself, but I’m in the midst of the batter and the baking for the cake.’ She pointed to the middle drawer of the desk that sat near the door into the common room. ‘There’s paper in there . . . and quills. Ink’s in the larger drawer to the left. Make a few signs to put up in the common room, would you.’ Ginger and Gwenneth listened closely to what Cook said, then fixed up a couple of signs. Two for the common room and one for the porch post to catch the eye of those just coming in. It was nicely written, by Gwenneth’s Elven hand, at Ginger’s insistence, though she helped with the wording of it:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

~*~ Help Needed ~*~

** A few helpers needed for the handfasting party to take place tomorrow **

* A number of hands to gather greens for garlands to festoon the common room.

* And those willing to make the garlands and put them up, today preferably per the wishes of Cook.

* Strong backs to move the tables out to the front Inn yard early tomorrow morning.

* Several ladies to see to the ironing of the lacy table cloths for the cake and mathom tables (must have a light hand with the iron, per Cook’s request)

* A few lads to see to the hanging of the little lanterns in the trees around the party site.

* Several assistants to put out the flower arrangements on the outdoor tables mid morning tomorrow. (Miz Amaranthas will be directing this)

* Someone with a deft hand to take charge of making the punch and seeing to its serving. (see Cook for the bottles of Southron spirits she has laid by for the occasion.

*And any odd and assorted number of those who can volunteer a little time during the party to make sure the tables are kept full of food, and drink, and clean dishes and cups.

~*~ Come see Cook, in the Kitchen, to sign up for a task ~*~

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Any volunteers from hereabouts will be given free drinks and meals these next several days. And those from out of town, will also be given free lodging . . .

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginger and Gwenneth found a few nails and a hammer once they were done with the announcements, and tacked them up securely for all to see. A hastily scrawled note was put at the bottom of each one by one of the members of the local band who were to play for the festivity’s dancing.

* Flute/Penny Whistle player needed, too. Ours is down with a head cold. We’re a friendly lot, willing to accommodate your style. Or if you don’t play either of those – bring what you have and join in. – Gil

[Nimrodel_9]

"Oh, you are quite alright!" Keleth said quickly. He didn`t want to embarrass Tolly.

"You are right. I miss my sister very much, and I am sure she misses me. She will be alright though. Taryn has many friends, one of them a young man, one of the King`s guards. I suspect they will be married soon. As for asking for the King`s help, I do not want to be a nuisance to him. Also, he is not a very vengeful person."

Keleth stopped suddenly. He had nearly let his secret slip! He looked at Tolly quickly. Tolly had stopped what he was doing and was now eying Keleth. I can`t just continue the conversation casually now.

"Uh...um... I suppose my last comment sounded a bit suspicious. Well..." Keleth sighed. "There was something I failed to tell you. Tis true, I grew tired of Gondor, but that is not the only reason I left." Again, he stopped, trying to find the right words. "The truth is... I am pursuing someone."

Keleth was beginning to like this strange little hobbit very much and did not want him to think he was a criminal of some sort. He paused, waiting for Tolly`s reaction.

[Noinkling]

The truth is . . . I am pursuing someone.

‘Well now there’s something to drop in the middle of someone’s breakfast!’ the Hobbit thought to himself. Tolly put his fork and knife down and took a good look at his companion. He surely didn’t look like those shifty-eyed men who’d come to the Shire – the ones that Master Merry and Master Pippin had driven out when they’d come home from the war. Maybe he was one of the King’s Shirriff’s. Tolly scratched his head. Did the King have Shiriffs? He fiddled with the eggs on his plate, pushing them around on his plate. He was desperately wanting to know the rest of the story, but trying to be polite enough not to just ask outright.

The doors from the kitchen banged open, allowing the entrance of an interesting pair to the common room. One was a young Hobbit lass, about the age of Tolly’s youngest sister, and the other . . . the other was an Elf lady. The Hobbit, her name was Ginger he found out, nailed up an announcement nearby Keleth and Tolly’s table.

‘Well, look at that,’ he said changing the subject as he pointed the notice out to Keleth. ‘The Inn is hosting a party and a handfasting . . . and they’re asking for some volunteers. He got up and ran his finger down the list of needed jobs. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m no good at ironing. So, that’s out.’ He tapped hi finger on a couple of the tasks. ‘Now here’s something I can do – there’s a whole stand of evergreens along the Inn’s property. On the west side. Saw them as I came up the road. Bet the Inn’d loan me a small saw for the limbs, and I’ll bet there’s baling wire in the stable – for the hay, you know. Be easy to string the greens together. We do that, you know, for our barn dances . . . back home.’ Tolly looked over at Keleth. ‘How about it? You want to lend a hand for the party tomorrow.’ He grinned at the man. ‘You ever been to a Hobbit party, Keleth?’ Tolly’s eyes lit up at a sudden thought. ‘Say . . . you want to lend a hand, too? Give me a chance to meet Cook and some of the others who work here at the Inn. You can have a little fun before you have to head out after whoever it is you’re after.’ Tolly couldn’t resist asking one of the many questions on the tip of his tongue. He leaned toward Keleth.

‘Is he dangerous?’ he whispered, shivering a bit at the thought.

[Fairleaf]

One of the smaller trees that lined the hedgerow along the road to the Inn seemed to be moving . . . and not just with the morning's breeze. The little hawthorn’s branches bent to the left and then to the right, looking for any movements on the broad, wide dirt track to the north of it. Since the sun had risen, there had been an increasing number of carts and ponies trundling along the roadway. The drivers had not noticed her, their wide-brimmed hats shading their eyes from the rising sun. But often the ponies looked her way and whickered as they bobbed their heads.

Creeping amid the trunks of the trees standing in clumps along the road, the slender trunk eased itself along, hiding in the shadows of the oaks and beeches, slipping its limbs carefully through the branches of its rooted kin. Excuse me its leaves whispered as they trailed through the lower branches, disentangling themselves from the mossy limbs with their clumps of browning leaves.

There in the distance stood a sturdy wood building. The Inn she thought, wondering if the craftsmen had been kind as they shaped the frame and walls and roof of The Green Dragon. How funny! she giggled, her leaves twittering against one another. It’s neither green nor does it resemble a dragon in the slightest.

She stood quietly for a moment taking in the lovely gardens that dotted the front yard. And just at the corner round the back, she had a little view of the herb and vegetable garden. Very nice . . . well done. she nodded in approval.

Fairleaf inched forward until she stood along the edge of the trees that lined the grassy verge leading up to the Inn. It was a fair day. She stretched out her limbs into the sunshine, rustling them in delight. Her dark eyes, flecked with a green and golden light, shone out from the shadows of the other trees. With a patience learned in her long travels, she waited to see what the creatures of this place were like.

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth was surprised by Tolly`s reaction at first. He changed the subject so quickly, but then he asked another question. Is he dangerous?

Keleth sat back down at the table and took a drink of his tea. "Dangerous? Yes." he said, and a fiery look came to his usually soft brown eyes.

"In Gondor I had a very good friend. One of my few friends. He worked with me in the stables. Damon, was his name. A good man. He had a young wife too. I had known him all my life. One night, about 5 months ago, we were in an inn. It was a cold night, and it was raining hard outside. The door flew open and stranger, wearing a long dark cloak came in. His hair was black and his eyes as dark as coal. Immediately he went to the bar. Damon and I turned back to each other and continued our conversation. Suddenly, we heard a lot of clatter behind us. Apparently, the stranger had started a quarrel with a local man. The man was one of Damon`s neighbors and jumped into help him. He pulled the stranger away from him and held his arms back. By then the Innkeeper had come out, and ordered the man to leave." Keleth`s hand went to the sword that hung about his waist under his cloak, and ran it around the sheath. "I`ll never forget the way the stranger looked at my friend as he turned to leave. A cold, dark look. Very early the next morning Damon did not come to work. I took my leave of the owner of the stable and went to his small, 2 room house. Upon arriving I was shocked to see the door hanging on its hinges. I dashed in, and found the room cluttered. I went to the other room of the house. The bedroom." The fire in Keleth`s eyes went out, leaving them looking very sad, and his voice lowered. "Damon and his wife had been murdered. I stumbled to the door and went for help. I quickly found a gaurd, and told him about Damon and his wife. I then went to my empty home and wept. Who would do such a thing to such a kind man as Damon? Then I remembered the stranger and the way he looked at my friend." The fire returned to Keleth`s eyes. "A flame blazed alive in my heart. I went to the small shop where Taryn worked. I told her what had happened, and that I was going to follow the man and avenge my friend and his wife`s death. I know she did not want me to leave, but understood. Damon`s wife had been one of her closer friends. I then went to the stable owner, and told him the same. He warned me not to go, but I ignored it. I left the city within the same hour. I had learned from the gaurds at the gate that a stranger had left on foot very quickly earlier that morning. And so, I followed him. For weeks I pursued him, all the way to the Misty Mountains. Very seldom did he stop for more than one day. I knew not where he was going, nor what I would do if ever I had the courage to go to him. Not until we reached the Mountains did he discover me. I had been hiding in some rocks very close to him while he slept, debating on whether to attack him or not. I guess I fell asleep for I looked up to see him standing over me. He drew his sword, and told me to stand up. Then he held it to my chest. He recognized from the inn, and laughed at me coldly. He had guessed my reason for pursuing him. He tied me to a tree and left me alone to die. There I sat for the rest of the day, unable to escape. It was nearly sunset when a traveling man discovered me. He kindly untied me, and gave me some of his own food. He asked me to come with him, atleast until he knew I would be alright. I said no, thanked him, and he left. I retrieved my sword and pack from the small hole in the rock where I had hid them. Luckily the murderer did not discover them. Where the man went, I do not know. I do not think he came this way, but I wandered here anyway. Now, I know not what I will do. I have grown to like traveling in the wild, though before I was driven by hate. Should I go on searching for he man? Perhaps I should find the man who rescued me and thank him more appropriately. Should I go back to Taryn? Or should I take up a life like that of a Ranger?"

Keleth took a drink of his tea and sat quietly for a moment. Then he looked up at Tolly, and smiled sadly. "Now you have heard my long tale. I hope you do not think less of me. It has been nice to have someone to talk to. You are the first to hear my full tale."

"As for helping with the party tomorrow, I would gladly lend a hand."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Preparations for such a party can get strenuous after a time – especially for one who doesn’t like responsibility at the best of times. Aman could have told you that one hundred times over.

The great black Meara leapt effortlessly over a fallen log, dancing away as if it’s hooves barely touched the ground, living up to all it’s ancestry. Bent low over it’s neck, fingers entwined in it’s mane, Aman couldn’t help grinning, although she was in a rush. She was going to be late back to the Inn: despite her dislike of rising early, she had left early this morning to take a ride out on the beautiful black horse, but had gotten rather carried away. But it was hard to feel regret, even if she had meant to welcome Zimzi back as early as possible: this horse was the finest she had ever rode.

“Just think, Aman: the finest horse in the West, descended from the line of the Meeras. Given to you, by me.”

The words Snaveling had spoken when he gave her the horse came back to the Innkeeper vividly, so sharp that she could see him, hear him, smell him as the words echoed in her mind. Distracted momentarily, she jerked heavily to one side as Felarof jumped another log; but the horse seemed to move to accommodate her. She had not been able to ride him out for long since Snaveling had given him to her, but this morning they had formed a sort of bond, and the Innkeeper was almost beginning to think that the rather hostile dark horse actually liked her – even if the giver of this so-fine present had vanished, like smoke, from the Green Dragon and Aman’s life. Again.

Felarof. The horse had been a gift from King Elessar to Snaveling, but he had chosen not to name him, instead urging Aman to, and so she had. Felarof: steed of Eorl, the first king of Rohan; a might creature, whose sires were brought from the Undying Lands, it was said, by the Valar; a horse who produced the line of mearas. Wild, free, violent and intelligent.

They slowed, gradually coming to a halt as they came to the peak of one of the hills of the Shire, and from their perch, Aman could see the Green Dragon below. The Innkeeper let out a long breath and patted the dark, downy fur of her horse’s neck. “You lilive up to your name, m’darling,” Aman murmured softly into his ear. Felarof gave a whinny and tossed his head wildly and Aman smiled fondly, patting him again with the flat of her left hand, the fingers of her right hand still deeply entwined in it’s mane: she would not consider riding such a majestic creature with a bit or bridle. Once again, just like his great ancestor. Aman grinned to herself and gee-ed Felarof up again, rearing up, a silhouette against the sun behind them. Turning to the path, they began their thunderous ride down to the Green Dragon.

Hobbits, of course, are not really known for their love of horses. Not to say they don’t like the creatures, of course: but a deep affection for the majestic giants, as known by the Rohirrim, has never really come naturally to a race who generally don’t exceed four feet in height. So, although she knew straight away that Felarof would probably be able to gallop faster than any horse in the West, she also knew that to terrify her diminutive customers by thundering down the path to the Inn like Melkor in a rage would probably not do any good. Slowing down to a canter, then a trot, she approached the Green Dragon at a rather more moderate pace – and preparations for the handfasting were already evident from the front. For one thing, on any usual day, you wouldn’t usually see two hobbits, one hanging from the bedroom window on Bree side, the other from the window on the far Hobbiton side, struggling to hoik up and pin in place a banner that stretched right across the front of the Inn – a banner proclaiming the handfasting of Zimzaran and Derufin. Aman smiled widely, then was jerked forward as Felarof slowed, then stopped, tossing his head with a whinny.

Knowing he would not shy without purpose, Aman was immediately on her guard, and peered into the undergrowth suspiciously, her green eyes narrowed – to see a pair of equally green eyes peering back at her. Giving a small expression of surprise, the Innkeeper dismounted quickly and approached, one hand ready on the knife in her sleeve. Hobbits were not known, generally, for hiding in grassy verges. In fact, it was rarely that anyone was found hiding in grassy verges, and rarer yet that they had a good reason. “Who’s there?” she asked softly, but sternly. “Come out, whoever you are…”

[Fairleaf]

Lovely horse . . . one of the old ones. Aldaron’s creatures . . .

And here he was, looking at her, nodding his head, long black mane flying back and forth. Fairleaf looked toward the small cart that had just turned onto the path leading up to the Inn door. The sturdy brown pony pulled steadily against the traces bearing the rider in the cart safely to his destination. Big and little . . . little and big . . . each bearing their burdens with the dignity of their kind.

Now this was interesting. The great horse’s rider had come over to the edge of the undergrowth and seemed to have her eyes fixed on something. And she was speaking . . . requesting, really, in a soft and unflinchingly stern voice that the object of her attention come forth.

By the mossy twigged hair of old Finglas! The woman was talking to her!

Fairleaf was sure of it, though why the woman was speaking into the leafy bushes about her knees, the Entmaiden could not fathom. With a quick nudge of one of her rooty toes she’d dug deep into the rich loam, Fairleaf nudged a fat and reluctant rabbit from its snug little burrow. With a scrabbling of nails against the leaf lined floor of its tunnel, the rabbit came bounding out of the entrance, heading straight between the firmly planted feet of the rider. The woman startled a bit, stepping back as the rabbit raced on.

Fairleaf closed her eyes and stretched her twiggy limbs out slowly, as if the wind were rustling among her leaves. She stood there, treeish as she might, waiting for the woman to move on.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman stepped back, startled, as a rabbit darted out from the leaves at the foot of the trees. Feeling slightly foolish, she laughed softly to herself and rolled her eyes, turning back to Felarof, who was watching her as if with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, yes, all right," Aman said witheringly. "but just remember it was you who shyed away."

The meara tossed his head haughtily. Was not.

Aman laughed and, taking up her place by the horse's head, began to lead him back to the stables of the Green Dragon. But before she had taken three steps, she couldn't resist the temptation to turn back and look once more at those trees around the verge. There seemed to be something different in the formation of them - as if one of them had sprung up during the night. She peered hard at it's branches, then shook her head, turning back to the Inn. "Don't be daft, Aman," she murmured to herself. "Trees don't just get up and move..."

As the Innkeeper made her way back to the Inn, talking softly to Felarof and to the newcomers to the Inn as she passed them, she shook off the feeling of being watched; and did not notice how the branches of that tree shook, as if from a sudden breeze; as if they were laughing...

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Derufin, General handyman/jack-of-all-trades round the Inn (played by Envinyatar)

Meriadoc - Stablemaster

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

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

_____________________________________________

Please Note:

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

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

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

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