The Green Dragon Inn - Part 4

[King_Elendil]

My name, good cook, is Captain Aldor, son of Freawine, and I came from many leagues on behalf of His Majesty King Eomer Eadig. His Majesty King Eomer wishes to convey his goodwill to the Halflings.

Now, Innkeeper, do you have a room? My bones are weary from much riding.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"You would be the new Innkeeper?"

Aman smiled and nodded. "Indeed I am. You knew the Lady Pio, perchance? My name is Aman. May I ask yours?"

The man hesitated, regarding Aman for a moment, and she shrugged. "Alright, alright. You have no horse, you say. But what of a room? Surely you will not be able to travel again tonight?" Not in your state, certainly, she thought, but didn't add it.

The man rubbed some sleep from eyes as green as Aman's own and stifled a yawn. "I shall find somewhere I daresay." With a sad smile and a stiff nod, he started towards the door, but Aman cleared her throat and made a small 'emmm' noise, and he stopped. The Innkeeper knew she shouldn't do this- this character did not look trustworthy, and he hadn't given a name, but she wouldn't let him simply fade away into the night, where anything could happen- despite the sword that hung at his side still (he hadn't observed the no weapons policy, obviously), and his ranger-like appearance, the man did not look in any fit state to be fighting anyone that night. She made up her mind. "I am sure if you stayed a while tomorrow, myself or the stablemaster would be able to find something for you to do to earn a room and a meal. What do you say?"

The man looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected kindness, especially after telling Aman he couldn't really pay. Aman smiled, beckoning with her head for him to follow her to the bar, where she took out the log book and the pen hanging off it by a thin red ribbon, and opened it at the last entry. As she did so, her eyes caught sight of a key hanging behind the bar- the stable key. Hadn't Vanwe locked up then. Aman sighed- she certainly had been distracted recently. Taking the key and turning back to the man, she gestured towards the book quickly, but her voice was still calm and kind as she spoke. "Come now, make up your mind. I have to see to the stables tonight, it seems, and the night grows ever later."

[Snowdog]

The breeze of the midsummer night dances with the skirts of Vanwe as she spoke, and I watched her close, my hand working the pouch about.

'Three coppers I have little need, yet there is more here than you say.

I said this to see her reaction, and her eyes lit up some. Yet I calmed her some...

'However dear lady Vanwe, you offer much for this, yet I ask little of the daughter of Naiore. You know that Kaldir will take this news to profit of himself, yet I see nor sense no malice in you as there is in your mother.'

Surely there was the possibility of malice here, but I would hold her words as true until she shows otherwise. But what do I ask of Vanwe daughter of Naiore?? I will not have her beholden to me or it is not my ways. I looked at Vanwe as she spoke further...

"You saved my life once before. You owe me no such thing now. Do as you will, Ranger. I will quarrel not. I am not strong enough for such feats"

It seemed a calm came over her though as I stared into her eyes. I held up the pouch and its outline was before her, easy for her to grab from me if she wished. The business inside t was not mine, yet could offer clues... no, it is not mine to say.

'This is yours you say?'

I asked, though knowing the answer.

'Then it is yours for the keeping, though if it is of such value, you should secure it better when you are hanging from rafters of stables. I will ask one thing of you, not for its return though...'

I swung it slightly and let it fly toward Vanwe, who snatched it from the air as it went toward her. Surely it was of much worth to her, and now since she had what she sought, she could turn and go if she wished. But I went on...

'Will Vanwe, daughter of Naiore come and sit with me for a time upon the grassy knoll yonder and tell me of her mother? The stars on this night of little moon will be bright, and in the sound of the midsummers breeze there will be rest and peace for thee, not chains and inprisonment.'

She was silent as she looked at the pouch, and finally looking at me as the candle blinked out in the breeze, she smiled and we walked the short distance to the hillside to sit for a time.

[Carrûn]

The weathered man seemed to ignore the Innkeeper's question regarding his name, nodding shortly when she asked if he had met Pio. He had half turned to leave when she called him back, offering a room in exchange for future services. He followed her lead over to the bar where she took out a log book and set it in front of him.

He saw her pause in front of a key, then turn back to where he stood.

""Come now, make up your mind. I have to see to the stables tonight, it seems, and the night grows ever later."

Shrugging slightly he picked up the pen. He stopped for a moment in front of the blank space, fingering his ring as he did so. Finally he signed a name, and closed the book. The word was a crude one in origin, 'Awyrgan,' from the tounges of the wild men of the Far North meaning condemned or strangled, but the letters were that of a refined writer of the Elvish scripts. Closing the book he passed it back to her.

She gestured towards the stairwell. "Upstairs and to your right." She picked up the key and headed towards the back of the Inn in the direction of the stables leaving Awyrgan standing alone. He watched her retreating figure for a brief moment and then turned and walked up the stairs where he found an open room, small, but more than suitable for his Spartan needs.

The door had no lock, but the man improvised and the room was soon secure enough for his taste. Setting himself down in a chair he pushed the window open, allowing the chill breeze to rush over him. Looking up, he found the North Star. Tracing an imaginary path that only he knew, he located the small, bright light in the sky that seemed to sing out to him and break through the stone surrounding his heart.

He sat smoking silently, deep in thought, with age-old lines running in deep channels across his relatively young face. After a time he rose silently and cast himself upon the bed and fell into a light sleep, for he had already slept longer than usual earlier in the evening.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman made her way to the stables out the back after assigning Awyrgan his room. Awyrgan...Aman did not recognise the name as being Gondorin or Rohirrim, or of being similar to other types. It sounded more like a name of the Northen wild men, although she couldn't translate its meaning fully. Another odd thing about this man.

Stepping out into the cold night air, the Innkeeper gasped. It was Summer, yet the night was indeed more than chilly- she hugged herself and wished she had thought to bring her cloak. Still, she would not be long- she only had to check the horses and lock the stables up for the night. Hastening across the courtyard, her feet making no noise even on the stone paving, due to the soft soled shoes she was wearing, Aman did not notice the two figures conversing, a woman and a man. But when she reached the stables, she couldn't help stopping in surprise- the stables were enclosed by two large, wooden, double doors. And one of these doors was ajar.

Lantern held high to dispell shadows and the sudden thoughts of the thing in the cellar, Aman pushed open one of the doors, and the creak seemed to echo deafeningly and eerily in the silence. All seemed to be still in the stables, but... what was that?

Aman turned quickly, her eyes searching the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye, she had been sure she had seen a sudden movement. But now nothing was there, or not in the stables. The barn joined onto them, and, curiousity winning over dread, Aman walked briskly towards the barn, shining her light as far as she could around. But there was nothing there. Or not on the ground anyway...

A shadow suddenly passed above Aman, and she barely held back a yelp and she stepped backwards and looked up, trying to shine the feeble light of the lantern into the high rafters. In the hay bales, or behind the barrels of feed, or in the many nooks and crannies of the barn, or in the rafters... there were innumerate places that a person could hide, especially is they were agile and slim enough. Aman stepped a few steps further into the barn, looking around slowly, trying to see as much as she could at once....

The young woman whirled right around this time, as something passed behind her- right behind her, so close she had felt the breeze from it, had heard the slight rustle of clothing, just as she had in the cellar. She rushed into the stables...but there was no one there- she would have been able to see them; in a few seconds they couldn't have got right out, or have got well enough hidden as to avoid her gaze. That meant they had chosen to stay in the barn. A shiver ran up Aman's spine, and she remembered Derufin's yell. Something heavy enough as to overpower Derufin, to knock that drinks thing down on him...and it could be in this deserted barn with her.

Aman forced herself to keep her nerve. "Wh...who's there?" She called, knowing it was fruitless. There was no reply and the silence was becoming crushing, ominous. That was it- for pure practicality's sake, Aman was not staying in an empty barn, alone, past midnight. Well, she knew Derufin was up- she had see him go outside and unless he had come back in by some obscure way she did not know of, the stablemaster was still outside. He too had experienced this thing- she would find him. Forcing herself to walk calmly, not to run, Aman turned and walked out of the barn to find the stablemaster, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling with the feeling that she was being watched all the way.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly woke in the semidarkness with a start, her body shaking involuntarily at being so suddenly drug up from plumbing the depths of slumber. She listened quietly while trying to clear the fog in her mind, no floorboards creaking, but the sound of a heavy door opening in the distance. It was fairly peaceful except for the occasional explosion of laughter or quickly hushed shouts from the commons room below.

Through the open window the soft murmur of a man and woman speaking could be heard, the rustle of the north wind in the trees playing with their words, chasing them away across the clearing.

Is someone smoking a pipe in here?, Gilly thought as she fancied the room smelled rather like Longbottom leaf. She couldn’t imagine it was Benia and it was too strong to have been Silvanis earlier that evening.

The hobbit unfolded herself from the chair and clutching the fire iron she had armed herself with before retiring, lightly walked to the door of Benia’s room. In the dim moonlight she could see her friend propped up in bed, but could not make out if her eyes were open or shut. As she walked closer she saw the moonlight catch a stream of smoke sifting in through her open window. Crossing over, Gilly looked out to see the yard below and the faint figures of a couple by the well. The wind carried the sound of horses as the candle on the well guttered and was extinguished. No pipe there, she thought to herself.

“What foul dragon is that smoke coming from?” Gilly sighed closing the window as gently as possible before returning to perch in her chair in the adjoining room.

She pulled up her feet under her petticoats against the evening chill and laying the fire iron across her lap she tried to sort out just what she had to do at home to get ready for Carl’s sister and family’s extended visit. Somewhere between gifts and sleeping arrangements her tired mind became saturated and sunk into the deeps of slumber once again.

[ July 07, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Kates Frodo Temp]

Aietmen woke with a start and instinctively leapt to his feet, standing protectively over Rosie's sleeping form. There had been footsteps. Just before he awoke, there had surely been footsteps. They would hesitate only a moment, he was sure, before coming in.

He scrambled to get Rosie into the deep shadows away from the door. I'm fast. I'm quiet. I can handle this. It took all of Aietmen's skill to stay one step ahead of the women who entered only seconds later.

She'll be back with help, and lights. I can't beat this! He knew there would be explaining to do, but when had he ever failed to charm all he met? Just go with it. Don't try to outrun them. You CAN beat this!

Was that a shout? They were coming. Stay calm. Just stay calm.

[Elora]

Vanwe walked in somewhat bemused silence beside Silvanis towards the hill. She did not know why he would wish to darken the beauty of the evening with her mother. Like much concerning the human folk that she found herself admist from the moment of her birth, Vanwe found herself at a loss for a reason to speak as asked. Yet, she had no reason to deny Silvanis. Indeed, the offer of company was welcome. particularly after the latest trying day.

The hill was a gentle rise towards the evening sky, the lights of the inn winking below through the trees that swayed with the summer breeze. She chanced a look into Silvanis' face as they walked, to see what little he would let her study. He was a guarded man, a trait that ran in more than one Ranger in her experience.

Her thoughts stumbled across Kaldir at that and she jerked them away. Silvanis was right in that he would sell he without question. As dread at that thought spun through her, Vanwe wondered what she dreaded most. She could not decide whether it was treatment at Kaldir's cruel hands. She had endured cruelty before and had the braided leather to remind her of her ability to survive that. Perhaps it was the thought of returning to the village, and what lay in wait for her there. Deeper still though, was being bought and sold, which reinforced yet again how little she was worth.

The stars were silent witnesses to all this, and an infinate number of other events within Middle-earth. Silvanis and Vanwe came to the hill top and Vanwe turned to study the sky once more. Nameless stars, to her at least, watched back and she was glad that she had her knife still with which to finish the carving she had started earlier. She would like to hang a star in the stable, if she could and if it pleased Derufin.

"They are beautiful," she said to the night sky and realising that she had spoken turned back to Silvanis with a faint smile. She moved to sit on the grass, settling quickly and running her hands over her skirts to smooth them. They fell into the grass which was a little cool. Smooth and refreshing, she wound fingers through the blades as she held her returned pouch in her other hand.

Silvanis sat also, somewhat of an enigma to her. She looked again into his face, as if to somehow peel back some of the mystery and he steadily held her gaze. Vanwe's cheeks coloured a little when she realised she was staring.

"I am sorry," she said, "I do not know where to begin... my mother..."

"Begin as best seems fit to you," Silvanis suggested. Vanwe nodded, gathering her thoughts and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she untied the pouch she was holding. She upended it into her lap, picking up the paper and ignored the purloined nub of a pencil and the coins that fell out with it.

"You probably know more of her than I do... she does not feel like a mother should," Vanwe admitted with sadness as she scanned the paper. Her notes, though sparse, represented a hard and dangerous road. She had risked much to gain what knowledge she had.

"Naiore Dannan is, by reputation alone, most unlike any woman," Silvanis added to soften the sadness that crept into Vanwe's voice. She nodded and smiled at him before she began.

"Some of what I know comes from the villagers I was left with. My mother fled to Harad immediately before the end of the War and there remained. She lived in small villages, moved around frequently.

Sometimes she left but always she returned. Once, she left for a long time, and returned with child. They said my father was dead, that she killed him, but I do not know for I cannot find him."

Silvanis nodded, gaze sweeping around the hilltop and coming back to rest on Vanwe as she spoke.

"His name, I think, is Menecin. She gave birth to me, left me with the villagers under the arrangement that I never leave the village, and left. She paid them well, but they were more concerned with the threats that accompanied the arrangement. She did not want me in her way. My name is a joke... I am the 'gift' she left behind."

Anger simmered beneath her words, and she shook her hair with some irritation from her eyes where the breeze had blown it. Vanwe took a deep breath and continued on.

"She never returned. When I left that place, I followed the road she was said to have taken when she left. It lead to Harondor. It was hard to find trace of her... the years since she had passed through were many in their count."

"What did you find," Silvanis asked with some interest.

"She was in Umbar. I found relatively recent traces of her there. She has a house, it is said, but I could not get into it. The City Guard mistook me for my mother and arrested me."

Vanwe continued through her list.

"Rumour has it she comes and goes from Umbar and uses the ports. She deals with buckaneers for her passage and few will refuse her. Belfalas is her home, and mine I suppose. I found her there too.

She was in Dol Amroth and Edhellond. The Rangers of Ithilien hunt her also. I could not speak to them on account of my difficulties in Umbar. Many do not wait to discern the colour of my eyes before they have the ropes ready. I could not get into Osgiliath, and her path seemed to lead north."

Vanwe went on to tick off locations where she had found some small trace of her mother. Minas Arnor appeared in the list, along with another period of incarcertaion, this time for being caught running goods for a cartel of thieves for the sake of some money. Many of the places Vanwe named were located in Rohan.

"She favours that land in particular. I do not know why," Vanwe said. She came then to her path as it led her towards Laurelindorenan.

"She was heading for Dol Guldur... an evil place as I am told. But I could not be sure, for Elves came and I could not stay," Vanwe said with a shudder.

Silvanis placed a hand on her arm to halt her.

"What is there to fear from your own kin?"
"What would my 'kin' as you say, make of me? Would they let me go on? I do not think so. Beyond that place, I have found rumour only of her and nothing of my father. I could not find his grave in Belfalas either.

Some rumours say she has gone south, and others that she is here in the north. I do not think she will be north long if she is here. It is too far from Rohan, and the south. My mother hates those lands with the most bitter of malice."

Vanwe fell silent for a long moment, staring at the view around the hill.

"Likely you have not learnt much from me at all. I make a poor spy. I will answer questions such as I can, if you think me any use. I have one of my own I would offer you."

Vanwe pointed to a bright star, the brightest in the sky to the north.

"Do you know the name of that star," she asked as it glimmered in fair beauty, casting back the shadow of her mother even as she spoke.

[Snowdog]

'No, I have not learned much of Naiore, but for her trail. She has quite a price upon her head, and I am sure my former cohort in arms either knows or will take interest in this. As for me, I have not seen her, but have heard rumor of her in Rohan, the land of my mother.'

I only led on a bit, and I looked at the star Vanwe pointed out.

'I call that one the Watcher, for it is sometimes my only friend in the days of hazy cloudcover up north.'

I looked at Vanwe and could see her pain, and also her guarding of the notes she had in the pouch. I lay back in the grass and looked at the night sky so bright in its blackness, with the only other light the dim glow of candles and lanterns in rooms at the Inn. the stars marched their paths across the sky, and little was said between them. Dreams of a grove of trees unnamed passed by in fleeting visions, and a solid rest in the chill night was found, to be stirred by the first light and the ever reaching rays of the eastern sun.

[Amanaduial the archer]

A sound again behind her, and for a moment Aman's heart beat sped up even further and she was on the verge of running, before she stopped. She felt foolish all of a sudden- imagine running away like this, running from something that might not even be very much at all. Had she not dealt with horse-thieves before in Rohan? Yes, her brain replied in a small voice, but you had a weapon then.

She hovered for a moment in the doorway of the barn, loath to run back to the Inn to fetch people from their beds at such a late hour when there might not be any need, but not altogether keen to go back in unarmed, when a thought hit her and she smiled to herself. Of course, she didn't need to go all the way into the Inn to get the sword or wooden club behind the bar- she had the choice of several prime weapons from the Inn's very customers. The keys still hung at her waist, and in them was the key to the weapons box, now locked- there were only two keys to that, one held by herself, the other by the unshakeable Vinca Bunce, from the time when Dwarin had been Innkeeper- not even Derufin held a key to this. Aman knew it was probably wrong to use the weapons of the Inn's customers when they had been entrusted like this, but, she reasoned, it was really for their protection. Or the protection of their horses and ponies at least- Aman would not allow a horse theft.

Running to the Inn door where the weapons compartment was, Aman fumbled with the keys, identifying them by touch, until she came to the small, inconspicuous silver one that opened the weapons box- it wasn't as large as some of the others so it wouldn't draw attention and if someone was to steal the keys, they certainly wouldn't guess that this one was the key to all of the weapons (bar Aman's own) in the Inn. She twisted the key twice in the complex lock, and heard the small, satisfying click as it opened. Opening the door to the compartment, Aman surveyed the wide array of weapons within, and couldn't help being surprised- the many denizens of the Inn certainly did come well armed! She didn't take alot of time to think about it though, quickly selecting a long, silver sword, elven looking in design, quite light and about the right length and weight for her; easily manoevurable, but able to inflict the damage which might be necessary.

Aman just hoped it wouldn't be necessary as she scurried back to the barn, lantern in her left hand, sword in her right, held in an expert grip. Despite her skill with a sword, she had heard of sword thefts in such large Inns before; her stomach turned over for a moment as she thought of one in Rohan, at the White Horse. That had proved disastrous, for the horse theives and the denizens of the Inn. Why the guard on duty had been murdered...

Shaking back these thoughts, Aman pressed into the Inn, lantern still held in front of her, tensed to move quickly. Taking a deep breath, she called again.

"Who is in here? Show yourself!"

[Kates Frodo Temp]

Aietmen hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the lantern light. He looked pleadingly up into the woman's eyes. She's afraid!

One small hobbit boy stood trembling before Aman. He was frightened, but his blue eyes laughed. He was defiant, yet somehow not threaghtening. Though dressed in rags, he was not a creature to be pitied.

"Y-you don't understand..." Quickly Aietmen recovered. "I'm not a theif!" He shouted, eyeing her weapon. What now? She is not heartless, surely.

"She needs help!" He pointed to Rosie, who was still sleeping as if she would never wake. "That's Rosemary Brandybuck, and she needs to go home."

[ July 08, 2003: Message edited by: Kates Frodo Temp ]

[ July 08, 2003: Message edited by: Kates Frodo Temp ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman relaxed as she saw it was only a hobbit boy, but she was more than a little angry along with the relief.

"You're not a thief? Then just what exactly were you doing creeping around these stables, hmm?" Aman strode forward, grabbing the little boy's arm as he attempted to run. He struggled for a bit, then stopped, his blue eyes pleading with Aman.

"Look, she needs help! That's Rosemary Brandybuck and she needs to go home!" He cried out. Aman looked up in the direction he was pointing, still keeping a firm hold on the boy's arm. Squinting more closely into the darkness, she did indeed see a small, still form, dressed similarly to the little boy.

"Goodness grief..." Aman murmered. She had expected a horse thief, and had ended up with two ragged, runaway hobbits. Or she certainly suspected him to be a runaway at any rate. Eyeing him critically, she resisted the temptation to go straight to the hobbit girl- she had to remain firm. She had seen the laughter in the boy's eyes, and had no doubt that, despite his protests, he was most certainly a wannabe-horse thief. "What about you? Who are you- don't you need to be home as well?"

The boy didn't answer immediately, and in that moment of hesitation, another gust of wind blew suddenly through the barn. Aman shivered, and so did the little hobbit boy- dressed in such ragged garb, he would be feeling the cold even more than the Innkeeper. She gave in, rolling her eyes and standing to walk briskly over to the hobbit lass, keeping her grip tightly on the boy's arm. She didn't want him to bolt and had very little doubt that he was lying, but who knew how bad the little girl was?

Letting go off the boy's arm slowly, Aman pushed the hay off the little girl and, carefully, she scooped her into her arms. The little girl was indeed quite thin and was sleeping very deeply by the looks of it. "A brandybuck you say? Well, Cami is not going to like this one bit..."

[piosenniel]

To refresh everyone's memory:

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.

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen

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.

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

At present it is a pleasant, clear night in the Shire. The season is mid-Summer.

[Kates Frodo Temp]

"Lemme go! I wasn't hurting anything!" Aietmen was frantic. "Get Rosie inside, and I'll explain. She's starving! Get her out of here! Gerroffa me!"

With a long, shuddering sigh he sank to the ground as Aman lifted his friend. There's no way she'll leave Rosie out here. Meanwhile, how am I to make her believe I'm not a thief? At least, not a horse thief. A tired smile flitted across Aietmen's face.

Wake up! There's no time for reflection! Quickly, his hand closed around the handle of the light sword the inn keeper had let fall as she held Rosie. He stared at it for a second before flinging it into the darkness at the back of the stable. Then, Aietmen bolted for the door.

[Elora]

Vanwe let the silence grow as seemed natural. The star named Watcher fulfilled its namesake. Vanwe wondered if a star could be a friend. When she looked back, she saw that Silvanis had stretched out. She was loathe to disrupt his peace. Perhaps he knew where her mother was better than she. She would ask him, if she could do so. It had not been easy to speak of her mother as she had.

In fact, Vanwe had never spoken at such length about her mother. Snipets of tales, told to her by villagers and those she encountered in Rohan ebbed and flowed. Rohan was his mother's land. How she must hate Naiore for what she has done to Rohan. She glanced down at her notes, which she had gripped tightly in her distress and relaxed her fingers.

A price was on her mother's head, and one perhaps on her own. Not only that, the one who may seek to claim Vanwe's gold price had reason to hate her mother also. She remembered the sense of wrongness and suffering that emanated from him with the intensity of a healer's senses. As Silvanis lay on the grass, Vanwe placed the paper back in the pouch and set it to one side. She had no stomach to further ponder such things.

The Elf maiden sighed, quietly so as not to disturb Silvanis, and looked skyward once more. The Watcher winked and gleamed, and she smiled back. A friend...

"How can she cause so much pain," Vanwe asked the Watcher in a quiet voice. "How can that not pass in turn to her daughter?"

It was a question that troubled her. She avoided all weaponry, excluding her belt knife, for that reason more than any penalty that may come from the villagers if she was discovered to be armed. She applied her skills to wood and animals most freely, hesitant indeed to extend them to people, for the same reason. She did not understand her mother's abilities, but she suspected that in some way she had also that capacity within her.

Had Vanwe the benefit of her kin, Galadriel foremost, she would know it is not the skill but the heart that determines what is done with it. But all Vanwe had was a starry sky and at that moment a Ranger who she thought was sleeping. So she whispered to the sky. When no answer came, Vanwe stretched out on her stomach, hands folded beneath her chin on the grass, legs dangling in the air.

A little more of the night passed, and Vanwe was unable to sleep just yet. Her mother weighed on her mind too heavily. So, again quietly, in a soft and sweet voice, she began to hum and then sing to the evening. It was this sort of behaviour that earnt her much condemnation from the villagers. Without them to wave their fists or cuff her, Vanwe found herself falling into song.

It was long before her eyes closed and memory converged upon her. Sleep did find her though, and she curled into it's peace with a sigh, after checking upon Silvanis, her pouch forgotten near one outstretched hand.

[Orofaniel]

It was clear mid-summer night in the Shire. Waddgo and Wadigo, the two hobbit brothers thought they'd just enterd a very fine Inn. The Inn was lightful and merry. The tables were full seated with people, men and hobbits. Elves and dwarves. Their chatting voices were loud and their laughter filled the whole room.

The two brothers seated at a table in the coner.

"Nice Inn," Waddgo said while a they were waiting to order. Wadigo nodded.

After a minute of waiting they were ordering beers and good hobbit food, or what they considered to be good food. The food soon arived and the two hobbits were having a pleasent time. Then they saw something in the door that wasn't pleasent at all. It was their mother! Well, they couldn't blame her for looking for them, they were only 13 and 14. But they looked rather old so none at the Inn could figure that they were that young.

"What shall we do?" Wadigo exclamed as soon as he'd indentified the thick hobbit woman in the door.

"I don't know," Waddgo looking rather worried. The hoobit lady, whcih by the way was called Firetty was drawing closer. Luckely the two brothers sat in the corner and wasn't easily noticed.

"Let's sneek out," Waddgo said suddenly. His brother couldn't really stop him, even though he thought it wasn't a really clever idea, beacuse his brother was already on his feet.

Waddgo and Wadigo were now leaving the table without paying, and they were sneaking themselves towards the door. Their mother didn't notice them, so she asked the maid that had taken their orders if she had seen them.

"They are both looking quite old, considering their age. They have both red hair and frencles all over their faces. The one is taller than the other and they are here without my leave!" She said stern. The brothers could hear her, because she wasn't only talking to the maid, the whole room was silent and heard all her words. The crowed turned around and started looking out for them with watchful eyes. Then the maid finally answerd the hobbit lady's question.

"Well, They just ordered, food and beer, at the table in the corner." She was pointing at the table, but the brothers weren't near it.

"Beer, you say?" the lady hobbit repeated.

Then suddenly a voice filled the air;" I've found them," it said and rushed over towards the maid and the hobbit lady.

"Where? where?" She asked quickly.

"There," the man pointed under a table.

The hobbit lady rushed over to the table, ragged the brothers out and rushed towards the door, with them of course. The whole crowd of people that had been watching started laughing as they left and neither the hobbit lady or the brothers were never seen at the Inn again.

[ July 09, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Notice of New RPG Opening ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Himaran and Carrûn invite you to take a look at their exciting new Game: FLIGHT FROM ROHAN.

The Discussion Thread is now open to take on players.

[img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] Come design a character and join in on the adventure! [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

[ July 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Snowdog]

A new day was brewing as the horizon started to light. Blackveil had wandered over to wake Silvanis with a nudge, letting him know she was getting tired of lingering and wanted to run. Nearby lay Vanwe, who seemed to stir in the first rays, and Silvanis stood stretching.

'A fine day this will be, though I must ride to Bree for a time. However, I will return soon, and wish to converse with you again Lady Vanwe.'

With a nod as he mounted Blackveil, he turned twice, once to look to Vanwe, and again toward the Inn and remembering all Lady Nightshade had said to him. He thought of going back into the Inn to see her before leaving, but knew he would be detained another day. So with a nudge to Blackveil's flanks, they were off down the road east toward the Brandybuck bridge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(I will be out of this RP for awhile, returning in the number of days it will take to ride to Bree, hang about a little, and return.. about a week of RP time.)

[piosenniel]

PLEASE NOTE: With Snowdog's post just before this - Night is done, and Day has come to the Shire.

The door creaked open, as a green-cloaked, pointy-eared maiden entered. She shook her head slightly as she entered, though not of a sign of distaste. She smiled at the barkeep, and walked over, hazel-grey eyes glinting fondly at the thought of beer... or alcohol of any kind. It had been a long time in getting here, and she had been denied the substance of her being, beer. She'd grown a love for it here, in the Shire on her visit before last.

"May I please have a pint," she asked the barkeeper, smiling friendily. The barkeeper smiled back, and went to pour her her ale.

"Thank you," Vanataurien said, as she was nodded to and got her drink handed to her. She headed to an unoccupied table, took a good, long drink of the firey liquid, then proceeded to analyse the other occupants.

[ July 10, 2003: Message edited by: Vanataurien ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume's table had become very quiet of late, over the last few days the Lady Niniel had departed their company and the star-maiden seemed quite content with the company of this new companion. Even Mardath seemed to have parted company without so much as a word.

He had left the table the night before and now Soronume was making his way back towards the inn, before the morning sun rose too high. Soronume had always enjoyed a clear summers night, though he knew many that wouldn't dream of being outside during the dark hours of the twilight sky.

Nearby the entrance to the inn he stood and called quietly to his horse. Using a bucket from the inn's stables, he filled it with water and placed it down for the creature. Patting the deep grey horse on its back as it drank he turned and made his way back to the inn's door.

Pushing the door aside he stepped again into the common room of the inn that was all so familiar to him now. Though it didn't seem it, Soronume was now becoming a regular to this inn, of sorts. He had certainly seen the inn change hands a time or two. Though currently still in the hands of the dear Aman, who he had conversed with on several occaisions, Soronume could not see the innkeeper anywhere inside. He thought that perhaps she had busied herself in the kitchen currently, she never did seem to rest.

He gazed around the room with interest, even though he had been here so many times before, Soronume never did seem to tire of the new faces the inn attracted. Looking over to a far corner of the inn he notcied an elven maiden alone sipping a drink she held tightly in her hand as she studied the room.

As Soronume made his way across the busy room a young hobbit who wasn't looking where she was going, obviously in a hurry, ran into him. She was quick to apologise to him but as she looked up she stopped with a start. Soronume realised that he hadn't yet taken down his hood from his head. He reached and unmasked his face. "I'm sorry miss, I hadn't realised. What a sight I must look in the shadows" he said with a smile. "There is no need to apologise to me, I should look also where I am walking, no?" The hobbit maiden just giggled at him and moved on across the room.

Soronume reached the table where the elven maiden had been sitting alone. "I'm sorry to disturb you miss, would you mind so very much if I were to join you?" he asked quietly. She looked up to him and seemed to study him for a moment.

Vanataurien looked at Soronume, cautiously considering him. "Very well, if it so pleases you." she said, and watched him sit down.

Vanataurien took a decidedly more ladylike gulp of her ale. Well, there is a newcomer, best be friendly! she thought.

Putting on her most polite and happy face (very hard to muster this morning, the evening had been difficult for sleeping), and said. "My name is Vanataurien Highmoon. May I ask of yours?" she said, extending a mainly bloodless hand. As she did so, she glimpsed his features more solidly. Wait, had she not made his aqcuaintance before...?

I walked down the main road in the strange place of the Shire. All the little hobbits running about, it was rather amusing. I still couldn't find an inn, so I decided to ask the next local I found. "Excuse me sir," I asked a young hobbit, "Could you give me directions to the nearest inn?"

"That'd be the Green Dragon. Fine inn indeed, that it is." he replied. "Who might you be?"

"My name is Varin," I replied. "Where could I find the inn?"

"Just continue along this road here and you'll find it," the hobbit said. "You're a dwarf, aren't you? But where's you beard?" He thought for a moment, "You must be a lady dwarf! I've never seen a lady dwarf before. What are you doing in the Shire?"

"Oh, just travelling," I replied, not wishing to say much more. "Good day, and thank you." With that I left for the Green Dragon Inn.

A bit farther down the road I saw it. It was a nice looking inn. I went inside and got a room. I placed my few things in it and went down to the common-room. I ordered a pint and sat watching all the different people here.


girl

[Carrûn]

Awyrgan awoke early with a solid thump, and picking himself up from the hardwood floor where he had fallen, rose with the morning Sun. He had had an unpleasent dream regarding his departed parents and was rather shaken until he was sure he was awake. He pieced a few of the pieces of the nightmare together, recognized them as a combination of many of his experiences, and pushed them out of his mind.

He stretched, cracking his back and cursing softly as he did so. He reached for his pipe only to discover he was completely out of leaf. This brought a more severe round of swearing from the weathered man and his green eyes flashed as his pipe soared soudly across the room landing with a "thunk" by the stool.

Slapping the sleep from his face, the man shuffled to where the basin of cold water sat on the small table. Splashing his face he managed to procure a razor from one of his pockets, and shaved. It wasn't something he did often, as a beard helped protect against insects while in the wild. He changed into a clean set of clothing, still his trademark black. Pressing his father's ring to his lips he muttered an old singsong prayer, and then moved to clear the barricade he had made in front of the door.

Opening the now clear doorway, he made his way down the stairs into the Common Room. Only a few of the other patrons were up and Awrygan found himself a seat at the corner of the bar. For some reason or another he was in a dark mood and had little desire for human interaction. Still, he made a note to locate the Innkeeper and make good on his end of the bargin. Moreover, he was rather hungry even though he would not admit it even to himself. He did not see the Innkeeper, but assumed that she was somewhere taking care of business and would be around eventually.

The smell of food began to rise from the kitchen and the man had half a mind to tour the back room and see what was available. He changed his mind quickly, remembering that most Inn horror stories had their roots in people tresspassing on a Cook's domain. He shuddered slighly at the memory of the Cooks of Harad. A brutal tale, but it made for good telling when the time was right. One server was making the rounds and Awyrgan stopped them long enough to grab a pint. He sat sipping it slowly, clearing his mind from the fog of the previous night.

[Nerindel]

The Previous Night

"I saw someone sneaking about the stable" she quickly improvised.

"some of the guests have been complaining of a shifty looking ranger and he seemed to be taking a great interest in our southern guest and a few others" she added thinking it what do well to keep the innkeeper informed of such things. but her eyes still strayed to the door with concern.

Aman had not heard a word she had said, The man who she had been trying to rouse had awoken and asked for a room, so she had took that moment to silently slip away.

As she opened the door to the inn she had seen two figures walking silently from the well to a small grassy knoll, Léspheria had smiled and relaxed as she recognised that Vanwe was with Silvanis. She had quietly slipped back into the inn, secure in the knowledge that Vanwe was in safe hand. If someone was to ask her how she could be sure, she would not have be able to express it in words, she just knew, She sensed his honour and trust.

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

Léspheria had slept well considering all the things that had happened since her arrival at the inn, as she opened her window she saw Silvanis depart and Vanwe head back to the stables, Stables! that reminded her that Lossëserme would be in need of a good run. She quickly dressed in skirts of forest green, she picked up her harp belted on her short sword and made for the stable grabbing two apples as she passed through the kitchen "I'm going for a short ride" she shouted back to cook, as she left, she was sure she could hear the hobbit woman tutting as she left.

when she opened the large oak doors of the stable she could not see Vanwe, but Lossëserme whinnied at her presence, Lossëserme nuzzled onto her as she stoked the mares snow white mane, "Ok, Ok, she laughed holding out the apple that mare was looking for, as Lossëserme ate Lespheria took down her tack and saddled her up. she gently ran her hand across Lossëserme's flank and was surprised at how well groomed she was, Lespheria's white mare had always been quiet stubborn when it came to grooming, "I hope you did not cause to much of a fuss " she laughed merrily.

"are you ready my friend" she asked taking the reigns and leading Lossëserme gently from her stall into the bright summers morning, but just as she was about to mount she felt a sharp pain in her side, she screamed and Lossëserme whinnied wildly as her mistress fell to the ground.

[Elora]

Vanwe watched Silvanis ride into the morning, and raised her hand in farewell. She gave him a smile and had nodded at his request to speak with her again, for she wished also to speak with him. There was much yet undone and just maybe she could be of assistance to another instead of a burr in their sides.

Vanwe watched the morning unfold a little more, still on the hilltop. She bent, after a time, to collect her pouch and tied it securely to her belt. Then she took to the trees and made for the stream she had found to run cool water over her face. She walked swiftly on light feet through the morning light, and though she checked, Kaldir did not reveal himself to her in the shadowed trees.

She did not have Watcher as a friend in the daylight, and so she was wary. Yet, she was also guilty at having been absent from the stables for so long. She could not avoid them forever if she was to keep the only thing between shelter and desitute homelessness. Compared to the rough hut that had passed for a home, the stable was luxuriant.

Vanwe was soon on her way back towards the inn, haste causing her to run through the trees, hair streaming behind her. Ignoring the rumble of her stomach, hunger was no new thing for her, she made straight for the stables. She slowed, caution driving her to scan the structure for the other Ranger. Yet, as she walked she heard a scream from within, and Vanwe was running forward once again.

She found Lespheria lying on the stable floor, a horse in great distress near by. It's eyes rolled at her, and it shook it's head in a wild whinny, nostrils flaring. Vanwe, cautious of the horse, rose a hand towards it. Murmuring soothing words in a sweet and low voice, she sidled towards Lespheria. The other woman lay motionless on the ground.

Vanwe saw no dagger nor wound, yet a hand was outstretched past her head as if she sought aid. Baffled, Vanwe knelt by Lespheria and examined what she could see with greater attention. No sign of injury of wound could be seen.

"Lespheria! Lespheria, it is me, Vanwe," she said to the woman. When no response came, Vanwe galvanised into action. She placed a hand on Lespheria's shoulder and extended her senses. Noone was nearby to see her, and so Vanwe worked without consideration for masking her activities.

Her eyes closed as she explored Lespheria's stricken state. Finding no injury to spine or head, Vanwe gently rolled Lespheria to her back, and brushed hair and dust back from the Elf's face. Her eyes were closed, and her face pale. Bewildered, Vanwe bent slightly towards Lespheria and again extended her senses in an attempt to heal whatever ailed her.

Naturally skilled as she was, Vanwe moved by instinct. A trained healer may hesitate to move so boldly before knowing the nature of the injury or illness to be healed. Vanwe, however, was moved by the impulse to aid as she could as soon as she could. From time to time, Vanwe's lips moved to sound Lespheria's name, as though she called to the other woman. She bent over her on the stable floor, Lesperhia's horse anxious still but somewhat quietened as it sensed what Vanwe was attempting. All were locked in silcence, bar the calling of Lespheria's name, in the pool of morning light that entered through the open stable doors. Vanwe and Lespheria were lost both to the world around them, as Vanwe struggled to find and heal the wrongness that had wrenched that terrible scream.

[Everdawn]

Madea woke late in the day, and returned downstaired to where she already saw Hathorn sitting at a table, breakfast for two was laid out in front of him.

"Hello" said Madea. Hathorn simply nodded his head to say he had seen her. He was bent over a piece of parchment. "What are you doing?" she asked, pulling her plate back in front of her. It took a while for him to answer. "I am writing to your father." Madea almost spat across the table. Her dark eyes shining. "Now! really!"

Hathorn on the other hand did not seem impressed. "Madea, this is very serious. If we want things to go as smoothly as we would like I have to take my time to explain exactly why you are not going to reside in Dol Amroth anymore and marry me and live in Minas Tirith." then he smiled.
"I know, you are right Hathorn, what if it did go wrong? no we musent think such things."

She reached for his hand. "I am very greatful to you, and the sooner we can go the better, so keep writing!"

[Gorothlammothiel]

"My name is Vanataurien Highmoon. May I ask of yours?"

"Certainly. I am Soronume" he replied to Vanataurien as he took up her hand in greeting. She was looking upon him with great interest it seemed. "Is something the matter m'lady?" he enquired. "No" she was quick to reply, "well not as such" she continued. "I cannot help but think that I have seen you before."

"Nay, I do not believe so, though my memory can serve me poorly at times. Have you rested in this inn before?" The maiden shook her head. "Then perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else?" Soronume asked with a slight smile, hoping that Vanataurien would not take this comment to heart.

"Then perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else?" Soronume asked with a slight smile, hoping that Vanataurien would not take this comment to heart.

"Perhaps," Vanataurien said, her eyes glazing over momentarily. Soronume looked much like another she had met close to here long ago... but it couldn't be him, Soronume appeared too nice, too polite.

"Do you come by this place often?" Vanataurien said, as Soronume seemed to consider how to reply. He nodded his head.

"I have been past here before, but have never stayed at this inn, it's quite comfortable," she commented, attempting to cover the awkward silence she had created a moment ago.

Eromir opened the door to the Inn and removed his dark green cape. He was very young, maybe about 25. He looked around for a seat, and found one in a dark corner.

He orderd some food and was looking around at the other that were talking and laughing around him. He looked around for someone to talk to.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel awoke, embarrassed to realize that she'd dozed off outside the Inn and it was now morning. She stretched a little, then stood and reentered the Inn. The table at which she'd been sitting the day before had almost emptied. Elwen and Dorelnar were still there, but Soronume and (for which she was somewhat grateful) Mardath had left.

No, wait, Soronume was over at another table with another elf. Bother. She didn't want to interrupt, but...

Niniel bumped into a young man about her age, who was making for the corner she'd sat in when she first came to the Inn. He looked a little lost. She murmured a quick "Excuse me," and blushed.

Eromir looked up and saw a young woman.
"Oh, hello. I didnt notice you.", he said a little bit embarresd.

"May I help you, my Lady?", he said. He saw in her eyes hat something was wrong.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

I went outside for some fresh air. The last night had been a long one. The small town was just waking up when I finally went back into the inn.

I sat down and ordered some food and a drink. After finishing, I went to find someone to speak with.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Chrestienne wandered over to where Niniel was standing. The other woman was blushing, having just bumped into a total stranger. Chrestienne smiled at the scene, so similar to one in her past. She had done just the same thing in the inn at home and-

She stopped that line of thought abruptly. Thinking about what had happened just a few months after that chance encounter was far too painful to bear. Pasting a cheery smile on her face, she tapped Niniel's shoulder.

"Good day to you," she said. She steered Niniel away from the young man. "I don't believe I ever had the opportunity to answer your question from the other night. Would you care to hear the tale now, while it is still bright and warm out?"

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: Cerulean Fire ]

[littlemanpoet]

It was mid morning when a chestnut charger galloped into town out of the west, riderless. He stopped and walked one way then another in the town square not far from the "Battle of Bywater" memorial. The saddle was still on his back, the bit in his mouth. His ears were held back against his mane and he was sweating.

He stopped and sniffed the air and looked about, and his eyes calmed as he saw a building that called to his memory with warmth and hay and the open and safe field behind. He trotted toward it and waited just outside, his ears perking to the sound of his kind breathing and eating peacably inside.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Envinyatar]

He had risen early that morning and taken the cart northwest to Rushock Bog. The skunk lilies were in bloom and he was determined to catch the first light on them. She had given him a small kit when she left – pen and ink and papers, and told him to capture the Shire for her until she returned. He smiled as he touched the roll of pictures he had done. He had believed, at first, that he did them for her, but she had known he would learn he did them for himself. His fingers lingered on the surface of the paper, its smoothness recalling the feel of his hand against her face. Even now she called him back to himself and to life.

The sight of the great horse standing patiently by the window on the south side of the stable surprised him as he turned up the path to the Inn. Urging Nettle to a quicker pace with the flick of the reins, he squinted in the bright midmorning sun, trying to discern if anyone were taking care of the beast. He could tell, even from this distance, that the horse had been ridden hard. The sweat from its exertions still shone on its flanks, and he could see its nostrils flare, as it inhaled.

‘Where’s Vanwë?’ he said to himself, frowning as he looked toward the stable. ‘Why has she left that horse standing out in the open?’

He drew up near the charger, and it shied away a few steps at the pony’s plodding approach. His frown deepened. ‘That is Eodwine’s horse, if I’m not mistaken. But surely he would not leave his horse untethered and uncared for.’ Derufin climbed slowly from the cart, and supporting himself on his cane, walked slowly to the chestnut. Speaking softly, his hands sure on the reins, he led the horse into the stable and stripped him of his bridle and saddle. He wiped him down, and put him into one of the empty stalls, a nosebag of oats for his morning meal.

‘I’ll be back directly,’ he spoke to the horse, now munching happily on the sweet grains. ‘Just let me find Eodwine, and find what brought him here in such haste.’ Walking to his quarters, he peeked in. Eodwine’s bed was bare of any traveling bags, and indeed the room appeared as unoccupied as it had when Derufin had left that morning.

He looked out the windows on each side of the stable, but still saw no sign of the man. The charger was by this time done with his oats, and he nodded his head up and down vigorously, wanting the bag off. Derufin forked some hay into the manger and taking the bag from the horse, hung it on the nail in the door post.

Locking the stall door behind him as he left, he hobbled into the Inn thinking to find Eodwine there . . .

Eromir smiled to the young woman and sat down once more in his dark corner. He started eating and looked at a elf female that was staring at him from a table across the room. He ignored the elf, but the elf just continued look at him. Maybe she recognized him. Then he would be doomed. He put his dark green cape to cover his face. He raised from the cahir and walked over to the entrance."Im going to Rohan right now." he thought. "I cant stay here any longer, they will recognize me and bring me back."

He took his sword that he left by the door and walked over to the stables across the streets. It was late, but he couldnt stay here, so jumped up on the horse and just disappeared in the darkness.

[Ealasaid]

It had been too easy. As Vanwe and Silvanis had had their little talk on the grassy hillock the night before, Kaldir had listened for awhile before growing bored. What the two of them had had to say to one another was of little consequence to him. He already knew most of what Vanwe had had to impart. Leaving them to their conversation, he had stayed in the shadows and drifted around to the side of the inn to see what access was like to the upper rooms. What he found delighted him. Ivy grew up the walls and around the window of the room that housed Benia, the desert woman. He saw Gilly, the desert woman's hobbit friend come in and close the window during the night. Once he had waited awhile for her to get settled again, he simply scaled the ivy to the desert woman's second floor window and broke the latch, letting himself in. As luck would have it, Gilly slept in the adjacent room, posing no threat of interuption.

It had taken mere seconds for him to bind the woman foot and ankle, stuffing a handkerchief in her mouth to prevent her from crying out. She did awaken and start to struggle, but, when he reminded her softly that the first person to arrive and be slain would more than likely be Gilly, she simply closed her amber eyes and allowed him to sling her across his shoulder. He left the same way he had come in, carrying her away from the grounds of the Green Dragon on foot to a hiding place he had procured the day before he arrived at the inn. He was just returning to the inn for his horse when he heard the elf woman Lespheria cry out and fall from her horse. He saw Vanwe run to her aid.

Curious, but also concerned, as he had a liking and a sort of respect for Lespheria, Kaldir went to where she lay. He knealt down beside the elf women.

"What happened?" he asked Vanwe. Seeing no visible wounds on Lespheria, he was troubled by the way she had clutched her side before falling. "Is she ill?"

Vanwe whipped around to look at him, the sharp edge of fear in her eyes. Recognition and accusation registered there as well.

Kaldir shook his head. "Nay, I had nothing to do with the lady's misadventure," he told Vanwe, thinking all the while that here was another missed opportunity. If he had not felt such regard for Lespheria, he might have left her to her fate and grabbed Vanwe right then to add to his collection of captured fugitives. But, he wished no harm to befall Lespheria. Vanwe could carry on in her efforts to aid her. "I merely wish to help you," he added. "Do you think she could be moved? She would be better served and better cared for in the inn than out here in the stable."

Still obviously apprehensive of him, Vanwe nodded and stepped out of the way. Kaldir bent over Lespheria and gathered her up in his arms to carry her back to the inn.

[ July 12, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

The young hobbit opened the door and removed his mantle and left his walking stick and shortsword by the door. The hobbit walked over to Aman.
"Good morning my friend, do you have any rooms for the night?", he said and smiled.
"Yes we got a room left in hobbit size, if you whant", Aman said and smiled back.
"That would be perfect", he said.
"Then its room number four, and here is the key. My I have your name please?", Aman said.
"My name is Halfred Cotton", he said gently.

He sat down and orderd som meat and ale. He heard a few dwarves talking about treasures and adventures at the table next to his. A lonely elf sat in another corner and talking to a human. He couldnt see any hobbits around and would love to talk to anyone, even a dwarf.

[ July 12, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

[ July 14, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman deposited the broom she had been carrying and retrived the log book from the bar. Bringing it over to the hobbit who had intoduced himself as Halfred, she showed him where to sign and took the small deposit. The little hobbit was quite genial, smiling happily, but thoughtfully, at her. She would have stayd to talk to him if more pressing things had not been on her mind, and hoped another soon would.

Exiting the Common Room, Aman went into her own quarters to the little sitting room which joined onto her room. In there had been set out a hasty bed, and on it lay a small, continuingly still form. Beside the bed, Cami was sitting in a rocking chair, watching the little figure, worry etched on her face. Aman closed the door behind her with only a soft click, and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, to Cami.

"How is she?"

Cami glanced back down at the figure of Rosie Brandybuck, then up at Aman again, standing and walking over. "Better I think. Her breathing is not so shallow as last night, but I couldn't get her to eat. She lies so still!" Cami's usually cheerful face wore a worried frown and she looked back at Rosiem, before continuing almost as an afterthought. "She said something though, last night- a name, I think. Aiten, Aymne...something like that." She paused, then seemed to say as an afterthought, "What was the name of the little boy?"

Aman shrugged. "I don't know, I'm afraid. He was gone so fast. Scared little creature, all skin, bone, and wide eyes. I don't suppose he will have strayed very far though," she added thoughtfully. "He did seem awfully worried about Rosie. Still, if he is around, no doubt he will show up." She forced cheerfullness into her voice, and was about to add more, when Rosie stirred, giving a small moan. Cami hastened to her side and the younger hobbit said something so quietly Aman didn't hear. Cami looked up, confusion and frustration in her eyes.

"Ai-yitman?"

Aman shrugged. "Cook will bring some breakfast along soon, for both of you. Did you manage to get in touch with the Brandybucks?" Cami sighed and shook her head.

"'Fraid not. By my reckoning, the messenger must have got...sidetracked...in an inn, else I'm sure we would have heard by this morning."

"I'll keep an eye out for the messenger." And for the other child, she mentally added. Ai-yitman, Aytem, Aimen....whatever his name was, Aman was worried that he had been in such a state. She intended to find him, and find out where he was from- she had been taken by the little hobbit, so small and scared, although there had been something cheeky in his eyes. And if he had nowhere to go, the Inn wouldn't regret another young helper...

Foolishness!- Aman stopped herself. He would have a home somewhere. She just hoped he would let her help him find it...