[maikafanawen]

Tharbad may not have been Minas Tirith, but it suited Wren just as fine. The inn the ranger had led them to be a fine inn settled near the river with stables in the back for the occupants’ horses and wagons. The floors were neatly swept and the tables and chairs were clean and polished. One window was slightly cracked towards the rear but that was the extent of damage in the common room. Candles were lit around the room giving off a comforting display of light patterns.

Upon arrival she had immediately requested a chalice of Dorwinion wine. She laid a silver penny on the counter, and the innkeeper pocketed it with a smile. The noblewoman took her chalice over to the table where the company had seated themselves and joined the conversation—which was recently turned towards humorous comments concerning Turthôl’s new part-time job.

“Yes, well, you shouldn’t poke fun,” said Wren defensively. “Thanks to him we’re all staying in a fine inn, eating fine meals, and enjoying cozy fires.” Then she turned to Turthôl, fighting back a smile and said calmly, “Now I believe I’ll have the deer stew and some potatoes, and why don’t you refill my glass while you’re up.”

“Yes, I’ll just have a salad with some rabbit on the side, what would you fancy Bregand?” asked Carmalita playing along. Bregand laughed and began to respond when Turthôl cut in.

“That does sound good. I’ll just call the waiter when you’re all ready.” The group shared a laugh and decided on their suppers. Turthôl beckoned towards a cute waitress who came quickly over to their table, giving a special wink at the ranger. “Hello Gina,” he said acknowledging the tipsy waitress. Good to see you again. I believe we’re ready.” Nods were passed along the table and the company called out their orders. Gina scratched them down on her little pad and swished her skirts as she walked back towards the kitchens. Turthôl muttered something about a charming young lady as he turned back to the conversations.

When the waitress returned, she was carefully balancing two trays of steaming food in her hands. She passed around the different plates and refilled the mugs and chalices.

“Will that be all?” she asked, directing the question to Turthôl. The ranger nodded appreciatively.

“Yes, thank you so much. Remarkable how fast you were, Gina. I never could get that down,” he pressed a silver piece into her hand and she curtsied before taking the empty trays back to the kitchen, blushing furiously. What a ditz, thought Wren as she watched her go. The Gondorian immediately cursed her jealousy and tucked into her dinner.

Rangar & Co. talked for a while after their suppers before retiring to their rooms. They were all thankful for the comfortable night before them. Wren had downed three chalices of the famed wine and was three silver pennies poorer. The noblewoman had always been known to be able to hold her liquor well and she made it to easily to her room up the stairs that looked out over the street. A crackling fire had been lit in the stone fireplace and the covers on her bed had been turned down. Two bedside candles had been set on the end-table and a candelabra sat on the desk in the corner. The window on the far side of the room had been opened and its shiny ebony panes caught the light from the waxing moon; the curtains blew in the breeze.

Wren walked across the room, taking the blue scarf out of her hair. She pulled the chair away from the desk and sat it before the window, sitting down. For a second she just sat there staring down to the cobble stone road below. Shop owners doused candles, and switched open signs to read closed before locking their doors. A few children were being called inside and animals were being shut in fences. The sky was cloudy, hiding from view the previous night’s beautiful constellations, and it wasn’t long before a light rain began to fall, quenching the earth’s thirst. Wren smiled to herself and moved away from the window, changing into a loose-fitting tunic to sleep in.

The rain began to fall harder and she eventually had to close her window, though she left the curtains parted. The noblewoman blew out her candles and lied down in the soft feather bed, falling asleep instantly.

* * *

Wren woke the next morning blinking into the ray of light that poured in from her open window. She remembered closing it and sat up quickly looking around. The noblewoman saw that her clothes had also been folded and the fireplace swept out. Deciding that an inn-maid must have done it she stepped lightly out of bed stretching. She walked over to the window and down into the street. People were just coming out of houses and blankets were being shaken. Good, she thought. It’s still early morning. She dressed quickly in her blue jerkin and red scarves. On her way out of the room she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and gasped. Her clothes were wrinkled and dirty. The noblewoman narrowed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. The unattended to curls popped back up in place. She grunted in frustration.

“Well,” she said out loud. “This is certainly unacceptable.”

“Something wrong with your room miss?” asked an inn-maid as she peeked into Wren’s room. The noblewoman’s expression didn’t change as she turned to face the inn-maid. It was Gina.

“No,” she said flatly. “But just because I’m not at home under the scrutiny of my parent’s friends and their children doesn’t mean I can’t look nice just the same!” She grabbed her bag of filthy clothes, and leaving the rest of her things on the desk and on the bed she ran down the stairs and out into the street.

The road by now was full of merchants had set up their kiosks and were selling a variety of things from jewelry to pots, and from rugs to weapons. Wren walked down the left side of the road, scanning the buildings for a formidable looking clothe shop. Her eyes settled on a swinging sign with the words Ribbons and Frills: Filauriel’s Clothe Shop. She entered the store and was immediately greeted by a plump woman wearing so many yards of lace she looked as though she’d gotten in a fight with her loom. The woman took one look at Wren’s ensemble and grimaced conspicuously.

“Oh my,” she declared, taking her bag and rummaging through it. “Well no matter, we can fix all that in no time. Did you have something in mind?”

“As a matter of fact—yes. I’m traveling at the moment and need something appropriate for the occasion. A few shirts, some pants, and a jerkin or two,” said Wren as she absently looked around the store. “I’d like some color and decoration too, not just drab things.” The woman nodded excitedly and led her to the right side of the store. She picked out five different jerkins, holding them up to Wren.

“Here you are. Just your size too.” The noblewoman took them to the back of the store and stepped behind a changing wall. The first jerkin was purple with orangish rick-rack around the sleeves and down the front. She discarded it and pulled out the second one. This one was a deep maroon that had gold trimmings and tiny clasps. It fit nicely and was thick enough to offer protection. She draped it over the rail and chose a third. After she had gone through that pile and the others Filauriel handed her, she had chosen three new jerkins—one maroon, one rust colored, and one gray.

“Now for shirts—oh yes and pants.” An hour past and the morning was edging on towards eight o-clock. Wren sat all the things for her purchase on the counter and Filaruiel looked through them quickly, adding up the prices in her head. “Let’s see that’s twenty copper pieces each for the two shirts, thirty each for the pants and fifty a piece for the jerkins, that’s two and a half silver pennies. Right then, we have five copper pennies each for the scarves, that’s fifty copper pennies plus these boots too?” Wren nodded as the woman held up a new pair of knee-high black leather boots with extra-tough soles—her others had thinned tremendously. “Ok then dear that will be precisely one silver piece. Thank you.” Wren put the silver piece along with an extra ten coppers for the woman’s help and left the store.

“Oh your other clothes!” called Filaruiel after her, holding up her bag. Wren thought a bit then waved it away.

“Do what you will with them, however I will keep the bag.” After emptying its contents, she folded her new clothes into it and swung it over her back.

By the time she got back to the inn, the company was down in the common room, sharing breakfasts. Wren hid her face and ran up the length of stairs to her room to change into one of her new and clean outfits. She decided on a rusty colored jerkin with wavy bronze trim. It tied up the front with matching delicate bronze thread. The Gondorian tied a pumpkin orange scarf around her waist and donned a new pair of light brown pants. Then she gathered her hair into a low ponytail and tied a second pumpkin colored scarf to keep it in place. A knock on the door startled her and Carmalita’s voice came from the other side.

“Are you up Wren?” she called.

“Yes, just coming down. Be there in a moment.”

“Would you like me to order your breakfast for you?”

“Sure!” called Wren as she straightened in front of the mirror, looking splendid in her new ensemble.

“What would you like?” The noblewoman stuffed her things into her bags, and sat back down to pull on her boots.

“Surprise me.”

“All right.” Carmalita’s footsteps disappeared down the stairs and Wren placed her two bags by the door, and buckled her belt around her waist. She looked once more around her room for anything she might have left. Her bed was partially made and the chair was out of its usual place. Wren tossed a pillow on the floor to spite the inn-maid and nudged the end table so it was crooked. Satisfied at her own childish mischief she left the room, leaving the door open behind her, and walked down the stairs.

“There she is,” said Tareth looking up at her as she came to join her companions at the table.

“Sleep well?” asked Rangar.

“I did thank you, and the rest?” They all nodded and most were just finishing their hearty breakfasts. Carmalita came back with hers and she ate it quickly, thanking the healer.

“Turthôl has gotten horses and tack for those of us without them so we can all ride now. We should head out soon, within the half hour.” Meals were finished and paid for and the company left the inn. Wren caught a glimpse of Gina saying something to Turthôl before Rave brought the noblewoman’s new horse around. It was a regal looking horse with white and orange splotches and an auburn colored mane.

“Looks like you’ve picked the right outfit to go with your mount,” commented Rave. The noblewoman smiled and tied her packs to the saddle and pulled herself up. Rangar & Co. rode out of Tharbad and “headed at a quick canter towards Rohan”, a cool breeze playing around them.

[ May 24, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]