[Aylwen Dreamsong]

The Innkeeper continued her work at the front desk, calculating revenue and filling out papers. Looking up, Aylwen smiled as the maidservant Aedre continued her work. The Innkeeper was always glad to have such a dedicated worker who didn't whine or complain. Aylwen hoped that the job wasn't too horrible for Aedre. It was tiring, yes. Always tiring. Then Aylwen sighed and corrected herself, remembering how life seemed to get more tiring with each passing year.

As she looked about the Inn, Aylwen also saw Ruthven and Bethberry. Bethberry was the owner and former Innkeeper of the White Horse. Aylwen and Bethberry had known each other for many long years, but Aylwen still remembered the circumstances of their meeting so long ago. Aylwen remembered when she first came to the Inn, and she recalled Ruthven and the little being called Madi. Aylwen laughed at the memories of the little man and his funny way of talking.

Aylwen watched, intrigued, as a little Hobbit man began to converse with Aedre. It was interesting and surprising, to say the least, seeing a Hobbit in the Land of the Horse-Tamers. Other customers went about their day, and in one of these groups came a slightly peculiar man who proceeded to sit down with a dwarf nearby. They began to speak with each other, and all seemed fine despite the sly nature of the man-sized companion to the dwarf. But Aylwen had no reason to suspect anything of anyone…

Noon was fast approaching, and though the sun continued its journey across the sky the air continued to stay cool and did not seem willing to change any time soon. Decorative flowers and banners were going up, minstrels were practicing jigs outside the inn, and many locals waited for the sun to drop and the festivities to begin.

Aylwen’s favorite parts about the March celebrations were the stories about the war that patrons told. Some were bloody and gruesome; others were heartwarming with the relationships between fellow soldiers. Many were sad, others were happy with what had occurred because of the defeat of Sauron. The best part about the stories, though, was that they were never exactly alike. After all, not many people with stories to tell stayed in the Inn long enough to tell them twice.

Snapping out of her reverie, Aylwen got back to work with a smile on her face as more customers entered or exited the Inn.