[alaklondewen]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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