The Green Dragon Inn - Part 6

[Beren87]

Beren laid in his in his bed, his arms folded behind his neck, propping up an ailing head. Warm, liquid, soreness reverberated throughout his body as muscles slowly unclenched themselves. It hadn't really been a long day, only a nine or ten hours out in the sun. Somehow the stress seemed more to his mind than his body. A soul crying out for...something.

He stared absentmindedly at the ceiling. Dinner had been served a while ago, cook having prepared it quickly and simply in order to save stock for Pio's arrival. He ate it down as fast as he would have any other meal, he'd known quite a few worse in his time.

Smiling to himself he arose out of bed to stand at the windowsill. The moon had barely arisen so early in the evening, it's light was barely enough to illuminate the still ground of the Shire. A part of him twinged for some home he'd never known, some love he'd never imagined..

A call from somewhere in the Inn directed his head up. Eyes pierced the night to no avail. The call wasn't for him anyway, but it did stir something in him, or perhaps it was the sight of the building. Errands all day had kept him busy enough to not have to think more than he needed, it was only at night these stray thoughts whispered among the corners of his soul. Oh how he wished it would rain. A gentle drizzle to wash simple cares away.

The bed called out to him enough to draw his eyes away from the enchantment of the window. Its nearly rock-hard matress gave some support to his back, but it was a world of comfort to him. At least, at any other time it would be. He knew tonight there would be little sleep, his thoughts lingered to much on some faraway wish. His head rested softly on the feather pillow and decided to dream one more thought before sleep. A silent thought of that greatest of emotions, a soul calling out for only one wish, his mind wandered to love.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel lost interest in the elf's story. As important as it might be, it also didn't do much for the pressing question of how she would replenish her steadily diminishing supply of cash. She looked around, half-thinking about picking a few pockets, but more out of boredom. She saw the stable-master--whose name she couldn't quite recall,Dervin...Durfin...Derufin, that was it--trudge up the stairs with a load of what looked like rugs, then he came down again, disappeared, then reappeared with a bulky rocking chair. It was a faintly amusing sight, but it also looked like the poor man needed some help.

She got up and walked across the room to the struggling man. "E-e-excuse me, b-b-but would y-y-you like some h-h-help with that? I-i-it looks h-h-heavy." Without waiting for a response, she took the quilts and picture frames from the seat of the chair and preceded him up the stairs.

"W-w-which room?" she called when she reached the top. Derufin seemed to be just slightly preoccupied with his burden and didn't seem to hear her, so she pressed her back to the wall and waited for him to pass, then followed him to a set of rooms under the eaves. He dragged the chair in and she set the quilts and things down in the seat.

"Thanks," he said gruffly. He looked tired and she wondered if his mutterings earlier had something to do with that. She had caught a few black looks in her general direction, but it was more likely that they had been cast toward Uien, who seemed to have gone completely soft-headed over the golden-haired newcomer. Falowik, or some such name.

"D-d-do you n-n-need help wi-with the horses, s-s-sir? I have-I mean, I used t-t-to trade i-i-in them. W-would I serve? A-a-at least u-u-until Uien starts w-w-work again." She refrained from telling him exactly what kind of trade she had done with horses; she somehow felt that he would not be impressed.

[ September 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Imladris]

Cold hatred filled Lira as she listened to Uien's tale. She gripped the silver knife of Esgallhugwen as she listened closely, for she was some distance away and Uien's soft voice was often muffled by the crowd of chatter that existed around them. Who could have done such terrible things, Lira mused, her blue eyes turning to ice as she contemplated. Orcs, or southern men, minions and dogs of the Enemy.

She saw a shadow come toward her, and, looking around her, she saw Esgallhugwen take her place beside her. Instantly, the cold features of Lira melted away under the bright smile of friendship. Looking away, she continued to listen as Uien asked the two at the table if they wished to partake of the quest.

[Elora]

Nuinyulma glanced to Doran, who was swallowed by thought. As Uien paused, she caught Evinytar's glance as he left the inn and felt a pang of guilt. So much to do and she was planning to leave the Stablemaster for a time in order to aid upon this search. She looked back to the pair she had been speaking to at the table.

"Perhaps you would like to discuss this amongst yourselves," Uien offered. It would certainly have taken her aback to have a stranger approach her with such a tale and request their help. She stood, smoothing her skirts and left them with one last plea.

"Please, a man could lie dying in the Wilderness. I need all the help I can find. I leave at dawn, the day after tomorrow. If you would leave with me, I can be found at the stables until then.

Enjoy your evening." Uien smiled at Nuinyulma and offered to same to Doran, without guile. She made one detour to fetch the promised drinks and left them to deliberate. Falowik would have greater success than she, Uien thought. She hoped he fared better upon the road than she presently did. The thought of him lightened her heart a measure as she espied Lira.

Perhaps, Uien thought, I could try again. Still Evinytar would need assistance. Caught, Uien decided upon a course of action. She neared Lira and ventured a smile for the other.

"I see you are much recovered from when last I saw you," Uien said as she approached. Lira blinked at her in question, mind wandering back to the tumultuous first hours of her arrival at the inn. She smiled faintly in understanding and inclined her head in acknowledgement.

"Yes, I am," she replied after a moment. It had been some time since last Uien had spoken with an Elf. Her gaze dropped to where Lira clutched her dagger and then returned to Lira's face.

"I do not wish to impose," Uien said, "But I had thought to speak with you on a matter of some importance." Lira nodded brusquely.

"I had thought the same," she replied. Uien brightened.

"Would it be too much to ask you to accompany me to the stables. I have work there that I have left undone too long and time is slipping through my fingers." In answer, Lira stood with a quick smile and they departed through the door. Uien noticed Lira look around her, as though something or someone was expected to follow her, but said nothing of it.

As they crossed the distance between Inn and stables, Uien continued on.

"A man has been attacked and abducted," she began, "and I mean to gather a party of those willing to find him to join with those already set upon this task." Lira nodded.

"I heard you speak of this at the inn. When do you mean to set out?"

"Dawn, in two days time. I dare not delay any longer."

"And where do you intend to make for?"

"Northern Eriador. It is where Eodwine was last sighted."

"Who will you travel with?"

"The Master of Buckland will likely appoint a representative. Also a man of great honour, Falowik," Uien's voice softened with her face as she shaped his name. "Also the Shirrif Falco Boffin may likely come with us..." Any softness was replaced by a subtle flash of irritation. Uien turned her face to Lira.

"I was hoping you too would join us," she said boldly as they reached the stables.

Falco Boffin, meanwhile, had watched Uien stumble with Nuinyulma and Doran. The pair sat in earnest discussion now. How in the world was Eodwine to be rescued if it was left to that Elf to raise the search party? He drained his ale with a distinct sense of renewed importance. Smoothing his vest as he stood, Falco set off to raise his own search party.

What they needed was good, stout, sensible hobbits. Uppity Elves and ruffian Men, Rangers and somesuch, could wander about all they pleased. But his search party, would get there and back again sooner. Falco wagered with himself that he'd probably have a party put together and on its way before Uien ever set out after that dubious Falowik fellow.

So intent was Falco on proving his worth and ability as a Shiriff that he was nearly out of the door by the time Ruby called out after him.

"Hoy there, Shiriff! Think you could spare us a copper or four for the vittles you've managed to work your way through tonight?" Falco flushed as he dug in his vest pocket.

"Of course I can," he spluttered as he rapidly closed the gap between himself and Ruby. He was already red cheeked and did not wish for Ruby to have cause to loudly declare her communications with him across the common room. More than a few looked assiduously away as he took care of the outstanding account.

Falco pressed the coins into Ruby's waiting hand. She batted her lashes, a smile of pure amusement on her features. "Never doubted it for a moment, Shirrif. What, a Hobbit of your esteemed stature and all." Falco scowled at her mightily, which only caused Ruby's smile to widen. He spun about and resumed, muttering about those who darken the good office of Shiriff with such foolish comments.

Ruby chortled merrily, pocketing the payment with the others and speeding along her separate way. She found the table she was aiming for, occupied by a Hobbit who had asked for a jar of ale to go.

Ruby placed a foaming tankard before him and appraised the hobbit.

"We're mighty busy tonight, but I'll do my best to see you are not left dry, good Master. However, this is an Inn of excellent standing and we do not offer take-away ale service." Ruby's voice held a hint of a sniff at the very idea. Sam eyed her and saw Ruby relent somewhat.

"So, if you've a mind to stay, do enjoy some of the fare from our kitchens. Like our ale, it's the finest around." She nodded, pleased at having gotten a pitch for Cook's work in as well. As ever though, Ruby was not standing still long before another shout for more ale went up.

[Imladris]

Relinquishing the hold upon her dagger, Lira flashed a gently smile at Uien and listened closely to Uien as she swiftly related the details that Lira had missed. She walked with Uien towards the stable and, when they neared the door, Uien turned and said boldly, "I was hoping you, too, would join us."

Fierce joy flooded Lira as she heard Uien's statement. To rescue a wounded man who may be dead or dying was a noble quest and to aid Uien would be a pleasure. That she, Uien who was fair to behold, would wish that Lira, an elf without beauty, filled the elf maid with indescribable joy. A happy smile shone upon her face and Lira said gently, "I would be honoured to journey with you." Uien smiled and Lira accompanied her and aided her with the duties of a stablemaster's assistant.

[Envinyatar]

‘Niniel, isn’t it?’

He looked up at her from the rocking chair where he’d sat down. Ruby and Buttercup had grabbed the quilts and pictures and bustled off with them. He could hear them chattering in the main bedroom about the placement of one of the pictures even as he asked his question. Silence followed, and he heaved himself from the chair, taking Niniel by the elbow and ushering her quickly out door and down the stairs.

‘If we stay, they’ll be finding more for us to do!’ he said hurrying her to a table out of sight of both the kitchen and the stairway.

One of the servers came by and he asked for some soup and bread and a pint of midsummer’s ale. ‘And what would the lady like,’ he asked, smiling at Niniel.

She made her order and they both made small talk until the drinks came. Through the open window he could see Uien and one of the other patrons making their way to the stables. The horses would be seen to that night, but what of the coming ones. Uien seem preoccupied and he had gathered from Falco’s talk that a number of the Inn’s guests would be leaving on the search party for Eodwine. ‘Uien will be among them,’ he thought to himself.

‘Tell me, Niniel’ he said leaning on the table, to look at her closely. ‘What sort of skills and experience do you have with horses?’ He was thinking he would need to replace his assistant, and soon if she left on the search party. And just how long might your services be available, if there were to be a position open up? he wondered to himself as he sized her up . . .

[Tinuviel of Denton]

‘Tell me, Niniel’ the stable-master said leaning on the table, looking at her closely. ‘What sort of skills and experience do you have with horses?’

Oh dear. Her experience with horses was mostly limited to the occasional theft; She could hardly tell Derufin that. On occasion, she had helped in Inns. The horses always seemed to like her and she liked that they didn't expect her to speak. She could tell the stable-master that; it was true enough, just not the entire truth.

"I-I used to h-h-help with th-th-them at the I-i-inns I found, in ex-exchange for l-l-lodging for the n-n-night. I-I can al-always c-c-calm them; h-h-horses l-l-like me. A-a-and I-I th-th-think I re-remem-remember helping s-s-someone with a s-s-sick one, once. I-I don't remember a-a-a lot of what I u-u-used t-t-to do." She shrugged. "I-I do t-t-take care of m-m-my own horse, though."

It didn't sound like a lot of experience to her and maybe the stable-master wouldn't think that she knew enough about horses to help him, but she could hardly tell him that she knew how to check a horse's condition. He would ask how, and she wasn't going to tell him that she knew that because a thief might have to get away quickly and a horse with bad wind or other defects would not be an asset.

[Elora]

Uien gratitude and relief was evident at Lira's reply. She reached to grasp Lira's shoulder with a warm smile.

"My thanks, Lira." Lira nodded, returing Uien's warmth in her expression. Uien glanced at the silver dagger that hung from Lira's belt.

"Tell me, are you a warrior?" Uien recalled the fierce flash of Lira's blue gaze at the inn and the way she caressed the dagger's hilt with an air of familiarity. As though the weapon gave her comfort with its presence. Lira blinked at Uien's forthright query and faint regret for her boldness coloured Uien's cheeks. She released Lira's shoulder and spread her hands in a gesture of apology.

"Forgive my curiosity," she added, "I do not mean to pry. You seen so capable with that dagger is all. It is not like any other that I have seen." Uien fell silent then, for she had seen more than her fair share of weapons and the grief that they brought. She had a healer's soul and she carried only a meagre belt knife that carved wood rather than foes.

Lira, with her air of capability, reminded her a great deal of her brothers. Their hands had wandered also to the hilts of daggers and swords when roused. She wished they were here now also, able to aid Edowine and Falowik. With a small sigh of wistful regret for their absence, for she missed them keenly still, Uien gestured through the stables to the day pasture where the horses still waited.

"I should see the horses and ponies safely stalled for the night," she said as Lira contemplated what to disclose to Uien of the dagger and herself, if anything at all. Gathering her skirts, Uien started for the pasture and the horses that waited impatiently for their stall, oats and comfort of the stables. When she heard Lira's footfall beside her, Uien shot a pleased smile at the Elf, relieved that her earlier boldness had not undone Lira's decision and pleased for the company in the absence of her love, Falowik.

[Esgallhugwen]

Uien had approached them as hopefully expected. Lira stood up from the table and looked back at her with a question on her face, Esgallhugwen nodded that she would soon follow but did not want to intrude or feel rather like an obedient dog, following wherever Lira would tread.

She had heard much of the earlier converse due to her keen hearing, and needn't be filled in on the details she already knew. But soon enough when she felt the time to be right she too left the Inn for the stable to hear Uien curiously question about the silver dagger that hung gracefully on Lira's side.

Esgallhugwen didn't speak much but decided to do so now 'the dagger is a gift from one new friend to the other, and I am curious to know if Lira has skill with her new gift,(if not I'd be more then willing and glad to teach her) and I also took notice that she carried no such item on her, so in giving it to her I gave her protection and my friendship'. Uien glanced back a little startled at the Elf's sudden appearance, Lira laughed already used to Esgallhugwen popping up here and there without being looked for.

'I was also curious to know if I too could join on this search for Eodwine, it would grieve me to part from a friend whom I have only just begun to know' Morsereg, Esgallhugwen's black steed snorted in the corral as other horses drew around him waiting for their oats, he whickered gently to greet Esgallhugwen and the two other Elves.

[Elora]

Uien gathered her thoughts in a moment and nodded towards Esgallhugwen.

"You would be more than welcome," Uien replied as one of the horses whickered in recognition. It occurred to her in that moment that she had no horse of her own, a matter that would have to be rectified quickly as well. One hand on the gate to the corral, Uien extended the other to Esgallhugwen with a smile for the mysterious Elf.

"My thanks for your generous offer, Lady..." She left the question of Esgallhugwen's name hanging a moment. Lira and Esgallhugwen exchanged a smile before Uien's hand was accepted.

"Esgallhugwen," came the reply. Uien repeated the name and studied the friends. Yes, a good beginning. These two seemed brave and steadfast, Uien concluded. She softened her open study of them with a smile.

"I think I owe your horse an apology, Esgallhugwen, for not coming sooner to release them to their stalls. He is a noble horse and should not be kept waiting for so long." Uien nodded her head at Morsereg, who regally examined her. Deeming Uien contrite enough, he accepted her apology with a flicker of his ears and a stamp of one powerful leg.

Uien, who had the halters draped over one shoulder, slipped the latch and entered the pasture. She was followed by Lira and Esgallhugwen. As they placed the halters over patiently waiting heads and gathered them to lead back to the stables, Uien continued her endeavour to understand more of both Lira and Esgallhugwen.

"It must be a fine thing," she said, "to have such a friend in each other." Again Lira and Esgallhugwen exchanged a smile.

"It is," Lira confirmed with warmth, leading five horses behind her.

"Are you also a warrior," Uien asked of Esgallhugwen, who had bestowed Lira with the dagger. Esgallhugwen led Morsereg along with several other horses and ponies. Uien herself found her hands full with no less than six ponies. All were eager for their oats and the warm, soft, sweet hay in their stalls and so presented little trouble for the three Elves.

Whilst Uien waited to learn more, her mind wandered over what she would tell them were she asked. She was not a warrior, nor a huntress or tracker. What use a healer on such a venture, or a wood carver or painter? She would instead tell them of Falowik, for that would make more sense. They would not doubt their decisions once the knew of the man they would be joining in this search, his honour. They would be as certain as she was, for they would see as clearly as she did. They were Elven also.

[Imladris]

A silvery laugh, reminiscent of a rushing river, bubbled forth from Lira. "Am I a warrior?" she asked. "No," she said, softly this time. "I do not care to fight and avoid it when necessary. However," here her eyes hardened to cold water, "I harbour no love for men who bind and slay innocent men in the woods or may be one of the Enemy's lingering allies." She breathed deeply as she led the steeds. "I hate they who have pledged allegiance with the Darkness and they I do not hesitate to fight...but I do not purposely go out of my way to hunt them. But neither can I turn my back of a man in need of aide." Her smile faded and a sadness entered and shone from her blue eyes. "I have seen much death and bloodshed," Lira said softly. "I am skilled in healing, but I am also skilled in the arts of war, but I prefer the latter. I would choose to wander in the misty darkness of the woods, to sing under the stars of twilight, to ride in wonder under the forsaken boughs of Lothlorien, to seek for healing herbs and herbs of pleasure in the meadows, to drink wine in elven halls, to sing in merriment than to wear the garb of a warrior, to slay upon the battlefields, to bathe my hands in blood. Yet, if there was need, I could do them as well, though my heart would grieve o'er the fall of man."

Lira lapsed into silence and gazed at Uien. This elf maid, too, had known hardships and deaths, probably more than she.

She filled the waiting troughs with water and replenished the oats and grains of the horses. Leaning upon a stall, she said, "Esgallhugwen, my heart is glad that you have joined us and I thank you, mellon Uien, that you have allowed us to go with you and your love Falowik" -- a smile crossed Lira's face -- "to aide the man of Rohan. But what of you, Uien? A healer or a warrior, or both?"

[ September 23, 2003: Message edited by: Imladris ]

[Envinyatar]

The words that fell from her lips did not match the fleeting expressions on her face. She was vague about her experiences with horses, hesitant. He had seen her, though, with her horse, and they seemed comfortable in each other’s company. The horse did not shy away or act uneasy when she approached.

Derufin smiled to himself, his eyes glinting with sudden knowledge. She had not always stepped on the right side of the law when it came to her dealings with horses. That’s why she kept the details hazy! What better person to bring in on the side of the Dragon’s stable than one who already knew all the tricks of the horse trade, the lawful . . . and the expedient . . .

‘Well, Niniel,’ he said sitting back in his chair and taking a swig of his ale. ‘You seem willing enough, and able bodied. Uien and a friend it seems are taking care of the horses tonight. Why don’t you come to the stables early tomorrow morning and I’ll see what you can do, show you the routine. I have several things I must get done myself, and I could use a pair of willing hands with the horses.’

He chewed thoughtfully on the whole grain bread that had come with his soup. ‘One other thing – though I wouldn’t want to take more of your time than you can give. Once the horses are seen to, we need to see to the railing on the Inn’s front porch. There’s a section of it that needs replacing. Can you handle a hammer and nails . . .?’

[Esgallhugwen]

Lira's laughter sounded like a silver bird in the night, she denied being a warrior but said she would fight if need forced it. 'I am a warrior...but I also have some skill in healing when need calls for it and there are no healers about. I hunt as well, mostly the orcs and other dark vermin that still plague this land; I am a wonderer like most of my remaining kin are...' Esgallhugwen stopped short never willing to reveal to much about her bloodshed past and the burning inferno her home had become; she had slayed many an orc that night but could not save the trees and many of her people had perished.

A flash of silver light blazed in her grey eyes for a brief moment filled with rage; such betrayal was brought upon them by their leader, some knew him by Maeglhûg others Seregtal "bloodfoot" he crushes all those who oppose him leaving trails of blood wherever he treads; without mercy, he has never slain his own kin but sends Sauron's ors to do it instead. Lucky for all peoples of Middle-Earth Sauron's reign was never accomplished, he was destroyed in the War.

I am ever seeking refuge in case my father lives and is looking for me...if he knows I live and if so I must soon stop fleeing before him, he has no sway over me.Though he thinks he has power.

[ September 24, 2003: Message edited by: Esgallhugwen ]

[Lumiel]

Sitting quietly at her table, Lumiel felt lonely. More so than she had ever been. She knew how to handle being alone for long periods of time, but being with people and yet barely acknowledged made her uncomfortable. She laid no blame on the people themselves, she was a shy, quiet young woman who was unused to socializing.

Her mind wandered as did her gaze, but she came back into focus as she heard Uien's voice telling her tale. Her heart beat faster, here was a chance for her promise! She breathed deeply and exhaled. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps it is, and perhaps not. She looked at Uien and Lira, and watched them leave for the stables. Putting a hand to the hilt of her sword, she gained courage and followed them a few minutes after.

As she stepped out, she took a relieving breath of fresh air. She much preferred the open air to anything else. Glancing about, she saw the stables nearby and quietly made her way towards them with light steps, her cloak flowing softly behind her.

As she stepped into the stalls, she saw the two women and realized that they were in conversation. Bringing a hand to her mouth, she cleared her throat and looked at them with sea green eyes. "E-excuse me, I overheard what you were saying in the Inn Miss Uien; not that I was trying to pry into your business or anything it's just that..um.." she stuttered, pointing to her elven ears in explanation of her having overheard the conversation. With a pink flush in her cheeks, she continued. "You said you needed people to help you rescue this man, and I would be honored to join you. My name is Lumiel Rovalhir. I have some skill in herbs and such, and also in swordsmanship." she laid a hand to her sword, "If you would rather not have me, I understand, but I would be forever grateful for a chance..." she lowered her voice to be barely audible, talking more to herself than anyone else as she whispered, "for my promise."

She looked to the ground and shuffled her feet a bit, feeling very uncomfortable and foolish, especially since they were elves. Bringing her eyes back up, she looked at Uien with turquoise eyes that pleaded for a chance, but held a certain pride in them too.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Amarië rode up to the inn. It was her first time here; although she had heard it was a very nice inn from her friends. Her black stallion took her to the stables, and she dismounted.

'Thank you, Eärél. You have served me well along the journey. You may rest now, for I shall not be calling upon you to travel for awhile... I hope...' Amarië said patting Eärél's neck. She led him into a stall and took an apple out of a green pouch that hung on her shoulder. He ate it and rubbed against her face in thanks. 'Namárië for now, dear friend!'

The elf maiden left him and walked into the inn. She walked up to the bar and requested a meal, and then went back to a table in the corner. There was a small fire that was set ablaze across the room, and several people of different races scattered about to room.

A young hobbit brought her the food. Amarië thanked her, and handed her two coins as a tip. The hobbit took them graciously and scurried back into the kitchen. Amarië picked at her food. She could not eat, she was still upset. Setting down the fork, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small wooden box. It was smooth wood with deep carvings.

Someone walked up and Amarië quickly hid it under then her bag, which happened to be sitting in her lap. The young hobbit walked up and disappeared into the back hall where the rooms were. Amarië put the box back into her bag, and stood up. She walked outside, leaving her food at the table. She looked around to see if there was anyone, but no one was in view.

Amarië climbed an oak tree next to the inn and climbed up onto the roof. She sat under the stars, morning drawing near. Her stone grey eyes searched the skies as the stars still twinkled so far above. The moon shone down onto her dark brown hair, which ended at her stomach. She was wearing a dark green dress that draped down to her feet, which were covered by elven boots of a dark green. She wore a black coat, the hood down.

Amarië took out the brown wooden box. She lifted the lid on it slowly, revealing a white shining gem. It’s radiance was so beautiful in the moonlight it seemed blinding. She set the box down in her lap, and lifted the jewel up into her hands. It was like a diamond, and it looked so big in her tiny hands.

Something rustled in the leaves of the oak tree, and Amarië quickly stowed away the precious gem. She snuck to the other side of the roof, and ducked down low.

[elf-girl-63]

Nuinyulma slipped away from Doran and out the back door to the stables where she had seen Uien and several others go. As they spoke another elf came out of the door and went over to speak to them as well. When she had disappeared somewhere, Nuinyulma silently made her way to where Uien was tending the horses.

"Hello, Uien. I have an answer for you- I should be honoured to come though I fear I shan't be useful. I am no warrior." Uien smiled and welcomed her, describing her own reluctance to fight. Soon, the topic turned to Doran however.

"And you friend, Mr Deroder I believe his name is?"

Nuinyulma nodded. "I do not know his decision, although he is a ranger of Gondor and I think that would be useful on such a trip."

"Yes- a good asset to have. Well, let me know his decision soon for there is much to do before we leave."

She nodded and left Uien and the others. The night was cool and fresh as no clouds littered the sky. The stars twinkled and Nuinyulma thought about Lorien once more, the image was soon banished from her head however as Uien left the stables shouting to her good night. The brown-haired elf did not moved though but instead thought of the future and future journey- the journey on which she was travelling with others.

Alone and still, she stared there for a long time, not wanting to return to the hustle and bustle of the inn. The night was too peaceful to be missed.

[ElenCala Isil]

A fairly young maiden dimounted her horse and led it to the stables. She pet the mare and walked towards the doors of The Green Dragon Inn. Looking around, she then stepped inside. Immediately she felt more at home in the inn, which she had never been to before.

The maiden's name was Túrelie. She had deep golden-toned hair and wore a raiment of dark, dark blue. Bound at her neck was a cloak or light grey, which glinted in the light as silver. Her eyes were a bright green.

She stepped quickly to the counter and asked for a room, and a bit of water. Recieving her glass from a young hobbit, she thanked her graciously and quickly drained the glass. She then proceeded outside.

Túrelie made her way to the stables, and up to her dark mare. She pet the horse lovingly and whispered to it. The horse neighed softly as in reply.

She stayed outside a bit, looking up at the stars and the moon on such a lovely night. She saw something glimmer in the corner of her eye. She looked up towards the roof of the inn, where the glimmering was coming from. She thought she saw someone but when she peered up she saw nothing. She glanced down at the ring about finger, which had a similar glimmer in the moonlight.

Placing the hand with the ring close to her heart, she looked back at her mare, and then made back for the inn.

She ordered a bit of wine and then sat herself down at a table near the corner of the inn. She took a sip, then thought about her family.

It pained her so to think about her parents, for there was so little she knew of them. As a child her parents were always off, so she was left alone or with some distant relative. She felt as if there was a hole within her, where the love of her parents should have been. She peered at the ring once more.

It was a ring wrought of fine silver. She rotated her hand to see the design flowing around the ring. It seemed as if it were a moonlit wine wrapping around the ring and ending at the middle, where inset was the moon itself. A gleaming white jewel sat there.

The ring was the only memory Túrelie ever had of her mother. She knew that it was once hers. As she thought back at her childhood, it was difficult to even imagine what her mother looked like. The only other thing she could remember was the soft singing.

She gazed down at the ring which seemed to give off a mysterious gleam of light, though no other light reflected upon it. Túrelie looked up and decided to observe the happenings of the inn, and to get to know the inn a little better.

The inn seemed to relax her, and she sat back watching the goings-on merrily as she sipped her wine.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"One other thing – though I wouldn’t want to take more of your time than you can give. Once the horses are seen to, we need to see to the railing on the Inn’s front porch. There’s a section of it that needs replacing. Can you handle a hammer and nails . . .?"

Niniel smiled. The expressions that had flitted across the stable-master's face had been a bit worriesome for a moment, like he suspected something of what she wasn't telling him. But this question she could answer well enough and without having to try to cover any of her past. A hammer and nails weren't worth enough to risk stealing, and it would be ridiculous to try to carry away lumber.

"I-I c-c-can c-c-c-certainly try, sir," she chuckled. "I-I've w-w-wandered for m-m-most of m-my life, th-th-that I-I remember at least, a-a-and I-I haven't e-e-ever needed t-t-to use them. B-b-but I c-c-c-can learn."

She stirred her soup around a bit, dipping some of the coarse bread into it and lifting it to her mouth. She was careful not to let it drip onto the table; she had an idea that the cook would have her hide for that sort of thing. Especially if she hoped to work here.

I wonder if I'll need to do heavy work like Derufin does... she thought.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Amarië stood up. There was no danger, and she knew that. A small squirrel ran down the tree as fast as his little legs could carry him. She sat back down and watched the squirrel scurry away from the tree and into the night. She lied down on her back and gazed into the stars. Her mind began to wander.

She thought of her past. Remembering what she had left, what had happened, why she had left, a tear fell down from her eye and onto the shingle roof. She sat up and reached for her green bag. Out she took a letter, written in deep blue ink. She held it to her heart and then quickly put it into her bag. It was time, time to leave all of her troubles behind and live her life again.

Amarië took out the wooden box again. It was the one thing she couldn’t let go of. Without it, she felt she would die. Even though she had to leave her past behind, she couldn't leave this.

Slowly she opened it, and the gem began to sparkle in the moonlight once again. She picked it up out of the smooth box lining, and held it in her hands. Her grey eyes shone bright in the light, as white as the gem itself. She starred deep into it, as if she was hypnotized by it's blinding light.

Amarië starred into it for a few minutes. Then suddenly, her eyes widened, and she quickly put the gem back into it's case, and the case into the bag. She climbed back down the tree and landed with a very light thump on the ground. Putting her bag over her shoulder she made her way into the inn once more.

She looked to the table in the corner where she had sat earlier to see a familiar-looking maiden wearing a dark blue raiment. She turned away and sat at the bar, letting her hood down, as not to be rude. She ordered a glass of wine and sat in hopes to relieve her mind of her past.

[ElenCala Isil]

Túrelie was sitting in the corner, with her chair tilted back slightly. She seemed much more relaxed at the Green Dragon, watching everyone go about their ways. But when she saw an elf maiden walk by, she sat upright. There was something familiar about the elf. Túrelie felt as if she had known her, long ago.

Without knowing she fingered the ring about her third finger on the left. She looked down to see what she was doing and immediately stopped. She stood, and made her way to the bar where the elf was. Túrelie was sure she the elf-maid had seen her.

She had very little friends, and always kept to herself. But the inn made her feel so calm. Túrelie sat down close to the maiden and ordered an ale. It couldn't hurt to say hello, could it? She was sure she had seen the elf before. But where?

She looked down at her ring once more. For some reason, Túrelie couldn't seem to keep the ring out of her mind. There was just some connection tied into it. She could feel it, although she didn't know what that connection was.

Túrelie took a sip of ale, and pondered whether to talk to the elf or not. It seemed as if she was in mid-thought when the words came out of her mind.

"Hello," she said to the elf.

It was too late to take it back now, she thought to herself. She waited for a reply, wondering what the reply would lead to. She took a long sip of ale this time.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

The elf took a sip of her ale, and Amarië studied her face. She knew the face. Her heart seemed to jump, but then suddenly she remembered... she couldn't tell her...

'Hello,' she said softly.

She knew the maiden, but she couldn't tell... No she just couldn't...

Amarië took a sip of her wine. A worried look grew in her eyes, and she felt as if she were going to cry, but she held her tears and glanced over at the maiden once more. She was positive it was her. Taking one more sip of her wine, she looked down at her green bag, remembering the past.

[Envinyatar]

Derufin watched the careful way she ate her soup and bread. Her glances a little furtive, as she brought the sopped piece of bread to her lips. She was one, he thought, who did not like to be noticed doing anything out of the ordinary. One who drew no attention to herself if she could help it.

Her past, he figured, had made her this way. This is how she had survived her life on the road. What he wondered now is if she were ready to settle down and take on some responsibility to something other than her own survival. It was difficult, he knew well himself, to break those old patterns of self preservation and see one’s self as part of a larger picture. Where was she on that continuum?

It was quite dark by the time they finished their dinner. Buttercup brought them some sweet, ripe pears and a wedge of sharp Shire cheese to eat with them. Derufin quartered the pears, and laid them out on a plate between them, then cut thin slivers of cheese to accompany them. He popped one in his mouth, savoring the sweet taste of the fruit against the sharp tang of the cheese.

Halfway through his third bite, he yawned widely and grinned at her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, stifling the yawn. ‘I’m not very lively company tonight. I’ll tell you what, come early – say just after sunrise to the stables in the morning. I’ll show you the routine for getting them fed and out to the exercise ring in the yard. Then I’ll introduce you to the tool bench and we’ll get started on the Inn railing.’

He called Buttercup over to the table, and spoke low to her, his glance drifting at times to where Niniel sat, apparently engrossed in her slice of pear – though he knew her ears were keenly attuned to the words that had passed between him and the Hobbit.

Derufin took his leave, saying she should stay and enjoy the rest of the pears and the drink. Buttercup flounced over and gave the Elf an appraising look. She scooped up Derufin’s empty mug and dishes and swiped the table where he had sat.

‘Best you eat up, Miss,’ she said in a friendly voice. ‘If you’re to be a new stable hand, best you get a good meal under your belt and a good night’s rest.’ She looked at Niniel and grinned. ‘And I’m supposing he wants you up with the birds to help with the horses, doesn’t he?’

Buttercup nodded her head toward the door to the kitchen. ‘You just pop in there before you go off to the stables in the morning. Cook always has a kettle of strong, hot tea and some of her breakfast pastries set out for the workers. Grab yourself a bite – once you get done with your main chores in the morning, then we all have a proper breakfast to see us through til lunch.’

Cook had stepped into the Common Room and was calling for Buttercup – something about dishes needing to be finished up before bedtime. Buttercup rolled her eyes, then winked at Niniel. ‘She’s as good a person to work for as you could hope for. Sticks by you through thick and thin. But she has her ways, Cook does, that drive you crazy. A stickler for detail and getting things done according to her timetable.’ Buttercup leaned in closer to Niniel. ‘Runs a tight ship, that one does . . . and everyone hops when she says to . . . Backbone of the Inn in my opinion . . .’

‘BUTTERCUP!’ The imperious voice of Cook cut short the Hobbit’s gossip. Buttercup winked once more at Niniel, mouthing ‘See you tomorrow!’

‘Coming, Cook!’ she yelled back, scurrying to her appointment with the last of the bowls, cups, and stray silverware . . .

[ElenCala Isil]

Túrelie looked up in surprise as the voice of the elf-maid called out to her. Her voice was so familiar. Túrelie said nothing for the moment, but sit, trying to match the voice to a voice she thought she once knew. She set down her mug of ale and placed her left hand upon the table. A beam of light shot up and in every direction, in every colour. But the one beam which called to her attention lead straight to the elf-maiden.

She strayed back into thought. She struggled to remember anything about her parents, whom she rarely ever saw. Túrelie could naturally assume some things about her past, even if something was to be hid from her. The ring, she had found it ages ago. She knew it was her mothers.

Now, now it seemed to Túrelie, that there was a new piece to the puzzle of her life. The elf before her. Inside herself, Túrelie knew that this elf could tell her something about her past. It was then that Túrelie had finally made up her mind.

She drained the rest of her mug and walked up to the seat right next to the maiden. Once again she fiddled with the ring, and this time she slipped the ring off her finger, and placed in on the counter in front of them. She slid the ring in front of the elf.

"Do you know anything about this ring?" Túrelie proceeded to ask.

The elf shook her head gently and slid the ring back towards Túrelie. Disappointed, Túrelie slipped the ring on her finger again. But she knew that the elf could tell her something, and she felt that the elf did know something about the ring.

Once more, Túrelie rose, and she walked outside once more. This time she sat close to the stables, where she could see how her horse was being kept.

She longed to be able to weep, to be sad, but she could not. All her emotions were inside herself, and she was unable to share them with anyone.

She looked up at the stars, and felt trapped. There must be some way she could find out about her past. The thought of living an eternity wondering who her parents were tortured her.

She closed her eyes and thought about the little she knew of. Softly she raised her voice and began to sing the song she had heard so often when she was younger. It was a sweet song, but Túrelie's version was tainted with pain and mystery. But as she sung, and focused solely on the song, it seemed to her she could nearly see her mother. But alas, she knew it was not so.

Inside herself, Túrelie sobbed. Forever she shed tears of pain. She had spent so long searching for any clue to lead her to her parents, but there was nothing. Until now, when she had reached The Shire. She made up her mind that she could not let this clue to her past slip past her. Slowly, she walked back inside the inn.

[piosenniel]

Please Note: the Day at the Inn is now ending -- all are going off to bed . . .
_____________________________________________

The dishes were done and all dried and put away in their proper places in the cupboard. The bowls, pans, utensils, and ingredients she would need for tomorrow’s breakfast were all laid out in a tidy manner on the counter top. All was done for the night . . . all was in readiness for the morning . . .

Cook looked about with a satisfied glance and, taking off her apron, hung it neatly over the hook by the back door. Ruby and Buttercup had been shooed off to bed, as had the rest of the servers in the Common Room. Aman, the Innkeeper, she had given a packet of willow bark powder to mix in branch water – another one of her awful headaches had come on and the poor woman was quite incapacitated.

Like a great ship on the ocean, Cook sailed out through the door to the Common Room from the kitchen, and came to port behind the bar. There were only a few guests about at this hour, and she nodded pleasantly to each one as she caught their eye.

‘Last call,’ she said in a firm voice as she motioned those who wanted one last round to come forward. ‘Drink up, my good folk!’ she called out to them as they came up, some for wine and some for ale. ‘Then it’s off to your own homes or up to your rooms.’ She topped off the wine glass of the pensive Elf and drew up a fresh mug of ale for the rather sad looking Elf who had just come back in. ‘You ladies drink up, if you will. We’ll be closing down soon. If you wish, you can take your drinks up to your rooms.’

She shooed the few Hobbit lads and the one gaffer out the door, telling them they’d best be getting back to their snug holes and families now.

‘And you Niniel . . . you should be getting to bed, girl . . . Buttercup’s told me you’ll be helping out Derufin. The horses and he are always up early . . .’ She looked the young Elf over closely. ‘Ruby and Buttercup sleep in the big room above the kitchen. There’s an extra bed up there if you need it . . . they’re both awake . . . gossiping, no doubt over the snippets of conversations they overheard today. Their eyes and ears don’t miss much!’ She watched as Niniel slid out of the chair and walked off.

‘Lights out, now,’ she said to the last few stragglers who were draining their mugs. Off home or off to bed.’

She let those out who needed to make their way home and gave candles to those making their way up to their rooms. Then Cook, locked the door to the Inn, and fastened the shutters, and made her own way to bed . . .

[piosenniel]

Posts following this one should reflect the dawn of a very early morning at the Inn.

The clouds have blown in from the West, and there is the threat of a summer thunder shower . . .

[Eggy]

With a soft push a broad red haired dwarf, opened the door of the inn. Fresh morning light beemed in behind him, pouring over his sholders and covering his due covered hair in a halo of sun light. "Ah so this is the Inn that i have heard so much about" he said to himself in a quiet mumble. Then slowly shifting his weight he began a slow periodic walk over to a table and relieved the weight of his huge bulk off his feet.

"Rest for now me thinks" he said almost in a whisper again to himself. Never looking up just staring into a small cloth which he held in his hand, he sat there counting.....

[piosenniel]

Early morning at the Inn . . .

‘Ah! The first customer of the day!’

Cook had lined the loaves of bread for the day like little soldiers in formation. Her currant scones and sticky buns were piled on platters, their sugared coatings glistening in the early morning light. The ham cut in thick slices, the eggs beaten to a froth in a large bowl were both waiting in readiness in the cooler. She had only to heat up the big iron skillets and call them forth. Pots of blackberry jam, and sweet cream butter, and Gammer Daisy’s fireweed honey sat on trays on the table near the door to the common room – they would be the heralds of promising things yet to come.

She had just taken up one of the trays with the spreads on it and stepped into the Common Room intending to put the pots about on the tables, when she spied the dwarf making his way to a chair.

Balancing the tray on her hip, she sailed over to see him. He was a large fellow, and she beamed at the size of his girth. Now here was someone who knew how to eat! A Cook’s delight!

‘Begging your pardon, Master Dwarf,’ she said setting down pots of jam, honey, and butter on his table. She waited until he had finished counting whatever it was he had in his cloth square and looked up, then she pushed on. ‘Welcome to the Shire and to the Green Dragon.’ Cook looked him up and down, smiling all the while.

‘How about a little something to slake your thirst?’ she asked. ‘You look like a little parched from your travels.’ He glanced at her, considering the question. ‘And how about a hearty Shire breakfast – we’ve eggs, and tasty Shire ham, and toast and sweet morning pastries to round it all out. What say you?’

[ September 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[elf-girl-63]

Nuinyulma yawned as the early morning sunlight gently streamed through the window. Late last night, as she had heard Cook's voice calling for the inn to close, she had slipped through the back door once more. After seeing that Doran was nowhere to be seen, she assumed he'd retired to bed and herself had climbed the stair to her small room.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and washed her weather-stained face. After finding a brush in her small bag, the elf brushed her hair while sat on the edge of the bed, humming quietly to herself.

A hungery ached seized her stomach and Nuinyulma sprightly hopped down the steps- the sleep had revived her well. There was only one other customer, a rather large dwarf, waiting in the corner of the room so she sat down to wait for signs of anyone serving. It was not long before Cook brought out a huge plate of breakfast for the dwark and on her return to the kitchen arrived at Nuinyulma.

"Good morning, Mistress Elf. What can I get you?"

"What ever that dwark over there is eating please. It looks delicious!"

Cook laughed and the room seemed to rumble in a pleasant sort of way. She was still laughing when she left the room, while mttering to herself. 'Well, well, well- a hungry elf!' Even the dwarf looked up- not for long though, he was too bust eating.

The sun was just beginning to filter through the trees as a rider rode up to the inn. She had been riding all night and she was sore and weary. She shook her head, telling herself to stay awake just a while longer, as she dismounted her horse.

Though the land around the inn was scattered with hobbit holes, the inn itself looked like an elf could stand erect inside. She hurried inside, eager to discover if the inn had any rooms available for a few days.

As she entered the inn, a maiden came over to her, " I am Aman, the innkeeper. Would you be looking for accomodations?"

" Yes, if you have room," she smiled tiredly.

" I believe we do. You are Ms...?" Aman asked.

" Nedieth. Would I be able to have breakfast here?" Nedieth asked uncertain.

Aman laughed," Of course. I will send Ruby over to get you something."

Aman turns and leaves as Nedieth sits down. She looked around. A few people were awake at the inn. She didn't know any of them. A hollow lonely feeling came into her stomach. She wished that she knew someone. She hadn't seen anyone familiar since she had left home.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Amarië left the inn and made her way to the roof again. She had to think over her worries. She needed the time to think them through. She looked to the West to see some dark clouds in the distance.

Taking out a letter from her green bag, she took it out of it's envelope and began to read it once more. It was about the maiden, what she could not say. Her heart tore, after seeing the ring she was even more definite about it being her. A drop fell onto the paper, but it was not from her own tears, a storm had grown near. She had felt it. Soon she would be drenched in water so she put away the letter and walked to the stables.

Reaching the door, rain began to fall. It clattered on the roof of the inn, and the dirt ground. Amarië opened the door and made her way in to think in the dryness of the stables. The white stallion had stomped his feet. He loved the rain. Amarië felt sorry for him, cramped up in a small stall, much like what she had once felt. A drop fell onto the dirt floor of the barn, this time not from the rain. She leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, sitting and thinking about what had happened. A lighting bolt popped outside, making all the horses and ponies go wild in their cramped stalls.

[ September 26, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[ElenCala Isil]

Túrelie looked outside. It was morning, and it had just begun to rain. A new day welcomed her. She decided to continue on her quest to find out about her past, as soon as she had eaten. She ordered up a meal, and moments later, Ruby came with a plate of food.

"Hannon le, Ruby," Túrelie called out as she gave the hobbit a tip.

As Túrelie lifted up her fork to eat, she saw a figure moving towards the stables from her window. She had a feeling who this might be. She simply could not let the only other key to her past slip by. Setting down her fork, Túrelie rose and walked swiftly out of the inn and towards the stables.

There, Túrelie saw whom she had wanted to find. The maiden was near the stables out of the rain. Túrelie approached her. This time she was determined not to leave without an answer, no matter how vague the answer may be. Túrelie was desperate for any hint to her parents, to her past.

Walking past her horse, she paused and looked at the mare. She seemed to watch the rain intently. The horse was alright, and now Túrelie set to getting her answers. She approached the maiden.

As she walked, the elf-maid turned to make a get-a-way, but Túrelie would not allow it, not this time.

"Wait," Túrelie called out. The elf halted, and turned to see Túrelie.

"Please, I know that you know something of my past. And you seem so familiar. Please, can you help me? My name is Túrelie, perhaps...perhaps you have heard it before." Túrelie was relieved to get her concerns with the elf out. As she wait for the reply, she looked at the maiden. She looked to be about the age, but seemed older than Túrelie. She had an aire of wisdom about her, and great knowledge. Túrelie was sure that the elf could be able to tell her something about her past.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Amarië looked at the maiden. A tear began to well up in her eye. She had to; she had to break the bonds that held her. She looked at the ring that sat on her finger.

'Túrelie...' she said, the name that she had spoken so long ago. She had to do it, she just had to. She would not let them win. It was time to tell Túrelie about her past. Even though Amarië was sworn to secrecy, she had to let that go, even though she may lose her life for it.

'I do know of your past, but I was unable to tell you. The gem you hold on your finger, I have the same one,' she took out the wooden box, and opened it, revealing the gem that glowed even in the darkness of the rain. She shut the box and took something else out of her bag. It was a letter. She handed it to the maiden, 'Here, this will explain it...'

Amarië turned and walked into the rain, placing her hood back onto her head, which was soon soaked from the drops that fell onto the dirt ground and splashed in all directions. Thunder roared in the distance. Amarië stood in the rain for a few moments, her head lowered and she felt a deep regret in the back of her mind. Who knows what this could lead to, but she also felt a sigh of relief. The bonds holding her prisoner had now been cut, and she only feared for her life, and Túrelie's...

Amarië went into the inn. The last thing she needed was to catch a cold.

[Elora]

Uien could sense the building of something in the scent of the early dawn air. Perhaps a storm, she commented to herself, and nothing darker. The evening before had proved an eventful one. Uien was overjoyed with those who had stepped forward and offered their assistance in finding Eodwine. She hoped that Falowik would as pleased as she.

Lira, Esgallhugwen, Lumiel, Nuinyulma all had made genuine offers, and Uien had earlier despaired of finding anyone. She'd risen early this day, filled with renewed vigour and hope. The horses had been seen to already, Uien all industrious activity after her neglect of the evening before. Her first thought had been of Falowik, as had been her last the evening before. Was he well? How did he fare?

She had sensed the storm in the air and hoped that it was not something else. A light shiver danced beneath her skin before she managed to get a rein on her thoughts. Falowik was well. He was a wanderer, skilled in survival. She shook her musings from her and bent her attention back to her task. She had yet to see Derufin and so waited for the Stablemaster so that they could speak.

Her hands were not idle though, swiftly weaving much like Uien's mind in the early morning. The herbs and plants she had gathered with Falowik the day before had to be separated, prepared and readied. She cleaned off dirt and stray material, tied and wove stems and supple branches together and proceeded to tie to a rafter where they would not be in the way. The scent of clean herbs filled the stable as she worked in a corner out of reach of hungry horses and ponies and not in the way of Derufin or Beren as well.

She hummed softly as she worked. It was a melody of the road, one she had heard her kin sing as they departed for the havens and one that had been sung around her when she herself had set off with a heavy heart. It rose and fell sweetly, a warding and well wishing for a road safe from darkness and despair and she sang it for Falowik, who was on a road far from where she stood.

Her thoughts ever and again circled. She was engrossed in her task so much that Falco Boffin's arrival was nearly unnoted by her.

"What's this business of yours then, Mizz Uien?" Uien managed to turn, a bundle of calendula in her hands, in time to face Falco and his question.

"You refer to the search party," she inquired, reminding herself that it would be better to have the Shiriff working with her. Falco cocked a brow but bit back his reponse about Elves playing the fool. Of course she knew what it was about.

"When do you think you might add a Ranger, or a warrior?"

"Those that have stepped forward have shown bravery not yet glimpsed in others," Uien returned. "They are not incapable of defending themselves." Still, Uien had to admit that a Ranger or tracker or warrior would be a wonderful addition to make. Perhaps a doughty warrior.

"I suppose you have a Great Hero tucked away somewhere then," Falco said as he noted Uien's thoughtful mien.

"Alas, I do not, Shiriff. Do you know of one?" Her question was genuine, yet Falco suspected some sort of Elvish mockery, the light, swift and fleeting kind they were so good at.

"You'll not find a Great Hero willing to do something as ordinary as finding a missing messenger, Mizz Uien, well we both know it. Not unless you have a great deal of silver tucked away." He took in her appearance and came to his conclusion.

"A fine company of Big folk you may have, but it will be me that finds the ones to get this done. Sensible hobbits who can slip quietly about without a fuss... Let me know if you find your hero. I'd pay a pretty penny to see 'im." Falco nodded with great satisfaction at his quip, tucked his thumbs into his braces and strode away.

Uien shifted the calendula in her hands. "I'll take any help that I can get, Shirrif," she said quietly to the stable, "provided that it is offered in good heart. I think, though, that you have already met a brave man who could be the hero you seek."

With a quiet smile, Uien returned to her task of hanging the herbs to dry a little so that they would keep longer on the journey.

[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.

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:

Derufin, a Man from Ethring in the Ringló Vale, is the stablemaster and general handyman/jack of all trades for the Inn. (Played by Envinyatar)

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen NOTE: Piosenniel will now be writing for this character

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Amaranthas Bolger – very old, crotchety Hobbit from Hobbiton, nicknamed ‘The Dragon’

Piosenniel – Elven, Innkeeper prior to Aman; married to Mithadan; has two children: a twin boy and girl; as yet unnamed infants.
_____________________________________________


It is early morning of a grey, rainy midsummer day. Breakfast is just being served.

_____________________________________________

[ September 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ElenCala Isil]

Túrelie never expected more than just a hint, but something sparked in her when she saw the jewel. Now she had this letter. She opened it quickly and read the letters feverently. After reading it, she paused a moment and let what she had read settle in her mind. She saw the elf leave.

Túrelie finally had something from her parents, and it was even addressed to her. But something still wasn't right. It was addressed to someone else as well. Amarië. Could the elf-maiden be her?

Now when Túrelie thought that all she ever cared about was finding out about her parents, she suddenly had another mystery before her. How could she have not known about Amarië, and moreover, why did they choose to hide all this from her?

Túrelie made up her mind, that this letter was not enough. She had to know if the elf was Amarië, and if she knew anymore about her parents. She pondered how the maiden ended up with the jewel, which so resembled the one about her finger. Túrelie gazed down at her ring, watching the same beam of light illuminate from the jewel as did from the one the maiden showed her. But the ring was her mothers, could the jewel the maiden have be from her mother as well? So many questions flooded into Túrelie's mind.

The rain let up a bit, and Túrelie ran inside the inn, searching for the maiden here and there. She asked a group of hobbits if they had seen the maiden walked by. They pointed to the table where once Túrelie sat at. There was the maiden, sitting in the corner. Túrelie stopped for a moment, then walked slowly towards the table where the maiden was sitting. She took a seat across the table.

The maiden had a tear in her eye and began to rise, but once more Túrelie spoke.

"Please, you have been so kind to share this letter with me, and so many questions have been answered. But in likeness, so many have been left unanswered. If you will, I haven't even your name."
The elf sat down once more, and they both sat for a while, in silence.

[ September 26, 2003: Message edited by: ElenCala Isil ]

[Elennar Starfire]

A man approached the inn, on foot. He was tall, and his dark green cloak was pulled tightly around him, with the hood up against the rain. He walked as someone used to stealth, a friend of the shadows, but he did not attempt to evade notice now.

He opened the door, and pushed back the hood of his cloak. His hair and eyes were dark. He looked about the room, at the faces that, having looked up at his entrance, now returned their attention to whatever had held it before. He walked to an empty table and sat down.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Amarië sat back down at table. She paused. Where to begin? How should she explain it? There was so much to tell, and she was not sure if she should tell it. Her life seemed just hopeless. She looked up from the brown box she had held in her bag.

'My name is Amarië. What is it you would like to know?' She said. There was still so much to tell.

[ September 28, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[piosenniel]

Just to remind everyone:

from: The Red Book of Westmarch - the first topic in the Shire

No violence or fighting in the Inn or on the Inn grounds. Save that for your RPG's.

_____________________________________________

Please also note - it is still morning, and breakfast is still being served in the Inn. It is not yet noon.

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[ September 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

A fair sized crowd had settled themselves in the Common Room, waiting out the rain. Today was market day in Bywater, and the yard of the Green Dragon had always served as a place for the locals to set out their wares on trestle tables from the Inn and do their weekly trading. Some brought produce from their gardens, and some brought livestock. And some offered the cloth they’d woven, while others offered their jams and jellies and soaps and lotions. And candles, and paper and inks, buttons of wood and buttons of horn . . . all sorts of things needed and things desired.

Cook fell to talking with Celandine, one of the candle makers from Hobbiton. She was the one who supplied the Inn with candles for the lanterns in the rooms. Beeswax they were made of. A lovely buttery gold color with a clean, pleasant scent as they burned. She made the ones, too, that Cook liked to use when she candled the hens’ eggs to see how they were coming along. And the pinecones, dipped in a thin layer of pitchy wax, that were often used to start the bigger blazes in the Inn’s fireplace during the winter season.

‘Rain looks as if it could go on all day,’ sighed Celandine, her two woven baskets filled with candles tucked neatly by her feet. Cook eyed the baskets and then looked round the room at the other weekly merchants, most huddled over mugs of ale or hot tea, their wet cloaks draped over the backs of their chairs in an effort to dry them.

‘There’s no reason we can’t have our market day. No reason at all.’ Cook was talking to herself, but her voice carried to the tables near her, and Celandine looked up, her face creased in a frown. ‘Not in the mud, Vinca! Surely you are joking!’

Cook laughed. ‘No, not in the mud, you ninny!’ She motioned for those near her to gather closer. ‘Some of you brawny lads can arrange the long tables round the edge of the room. The folk here with goods to trade can lay them out on the tables and there’ll be plenty of room for buyers to circulate about and see what’s offered.’ She pointed to some of the young men, indicating they should get started on the job.

‘The rain’ll be good for business. Nothing much else to do but come to the Inn for a pint. The good folk can wet their whistles and replenish their supplies all under the Inn’s roof!’

Clapping her hands, she got the attention of the others in the Inn. There was a general enthusiasm for her idea and soon there a number of patrons busy arranging the tables as she’d asked, while others ran out to their wagons to bring in the goods they’d hoped to sell in the yard that day . . .

[littlemanpoet]

Falco made the rounds of the trestle tables, eyeing the wares, and eyeing other Hobbits; not to mention certain Elves that had a knack for getting on his nerves.

It was turning out to be harder to think of a likely Hobbit or two - never mind three - for this rescue journey than he had thought. Every one he turned his mind to had a livelihood he could not leave, or a hobbit lass he was a-courting and must not leave or lose her, or no interest in foreign parts at any road.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Falco turned to peer into Halfred's homely face and calculating eyes.

"What be you a thinkin', Falco?" Halfred watched him through half closed eyes, suspicious like.

"Oh, just lookin' at these candlesticks here."

"Rubbish."

"Now, why do you got to go on saying I'm talkin' rubbish when you don't even know what I'm thinkin'?"

"Your eyes are no more on them wares than a sweet smell on a dung pile. And your mouth ain't a flapping like I know it can. Means you're thinkin', and hard. What about?"

"Oh, very well then. I'm thinkin' about the recruitment of some likely hobbits for this here rescue of the Rohan man."

"And what be you a worryin' your addled little mind about that for?"

"Now, you don't have to go callin' me names just 'cause you wish you was deafer around me than you are!"

Halfred sighed audibly. "Falco, what do you care about rescuing this man? You brought that Falowik fella here out of duty. That's all you need do."

Falco's face darkened. "I got to find me some hobbits, or-" He didn't finish, his face reddening.

"Or what?"

Falco scowled. "Or it'll be nothin' but Elves!"

"Oh. I heard about your little tiff wi' that Elf lady. Well, don't you mind yourself about no rescue party. It's being taken care of. There's been word. The Master of Brandy Hall has taken it over."

"I heard. But I got to do this."

"You don't neither."

"Halfred, that Elf is likely to mess up everything, and somebody who understands her has to be there to keep her meddling in hand."

"And you're the hobbit to do it?" Halfred was chuckling. It made Falco angry.

"And why not me!"

"Because you have no sense for nothing but hobbit lasses, hearin' yerself talk, your favorite ale, good food, and obeyin' orders. And in that order."

"Says you. I'll show you."

"We'll see. I'm watchin' you, Falco."

"Watch all you like. Just don't order me to stop, if you don't mind."

"Oh, I don't mind. It's comical to watch you try." Halfred smirked, placed folded his hands behind his back, and strolled down the tables, and left Falco fuming.