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The horse slowed to a trot as the inn came into sight and Fin sighed. The sign of the Green Dragon swang slowly above the door, a welcome memory to the elf after his journey. It felt like an age since he had last stepped over the threshold of this particular inn and it felt good to be back. He remembered his first visit, some years ago when it had been Dwarin who had run the establishment. His first visit had been his fondest, for he had met a good friend, a fellow elf named Celebmornie. On his subsequent journeys, the owners may have changed but the Green Dragon felt as welcome as it ever had, with its quaint setting in the Shire and its large fireplace and full common room.
Fin grinned as his horse stopped outside and he dismounted, handing the reigns to a stablehobbit. The Hobbit-folk always found time to sit and drink, whether during the harvest when crops were to be had, or when the snow sank in thick drifts and logs were needed. No, the hobbits always seemed to manage.
He pushed the doors open and scanned the commonroom with a quick encmpassing glance. Ever changing, the enhabitants of the Inn were unknown to him, but he wondered if Aman was to be found. He hoped she at least would remember him, the dashing elf of Eryn Lasgalen. He strode confidently across the room and leant on the bartop. He hailed the first maid he saw, an unknown hobbitlass and asked, "where can Aman be found? Is she on the premises? Tell her an old friend has returned, wondering if she still remembers him?"
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