The Green Dragon Inn - Part 6

[piosenniel]

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.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

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. (Character written for by Envinyatar)

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen (Character written for by Piosenniel)

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.
_____________________________________________


It is near suppertime of an early evening in midsummer.

[ October 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Imladris]

I listened to Elentari offering to mentor me: at first my spirit rebelled against such an offering, though I knew it was offered out of kindness: never before had I need or accepted help. Even my parents did not know that I was completely blind now. But as I listened to her, a strange sort of joy rippled through me: the thought of being able to see again, though only with my ears, nose, and touch, would be a joy. I honestly could not conceive how I had managed to get from Bree to here: it had been a rather painful journey.

"Yes, Elentari," I said, groping for her hand and finally finding it. "Mentor me, help me. You have no idea how horrible it is not to be able to see the sun setting in the western sky, the green fields stretch to the horizon, the galloping of the horses, the wildflowers that are scattered in the meadows, the flight of birds winging above the earth..."

I sighed, for even Elentari could not grant me that one wish. I wondered what it would be like to be deaf: I would be able to see the bard strumming upon his harp -- but not hear the sweet, aching sounds of melody; I would be able to see the birds -- yet not hear their trills; I would see a rushing river, yet I would not hear it chuckle and laugh. But I would be able to run free and wild, climb the trees of the woods, swing myself upon a stair's banister and slide to the floor. I turned to Elentari, and, pushing such useless thoughts away, said again, "Thank you."

[Elsilda]

The sun was out, bright and warm, but Elsilda was still wet and cold. She had been riding all day, Melde was tired and had been limping for the past two hours. He was a strong horse with a beautiful brown coat and deep brown eyes. He could travel long distances, but Elsilda was pushing it and she knew it. “Oh Melde, its not far, the hobbit said that the Inn should be half an hour a way” she said in a soft voice, stroking her horses silky mane. Elsida saw something in the distance, she squinted her eyes “there it is! We made it Melde!” Elsilda exclaimed.

Elsilda rode for a while and finally reached the Inn, she sighed with relief. “Oh Melde, you are such a great companion!” she said to her loyal steed. She climed off Melde and then patted her “just wait here, while I find someone who can take you to a stable, you can then have water and hay” she said.

Elsilda looked around and found the stables. She walked into the stable and there was an elf brushing a horse he was a friendly looking elf, very muscular and about medium height, he look trustworthy. He stood up and smiled “Greetings! Can I help you?” he asked while walking up to her.
“Greetings kind sir, who is in charge of the stables?” Elsilda asked.
“Why I am, what can I do for you?” he said grinning.
“My horse needs a resting place, some food and hay” Elsilda explained “let me take you to my horse!” She was curious and wanted to know more about this elf. “My name is Elsilda! May I ask what your name is?” she said.
“My name is Derufin! Where are you from and where are you going“ Derufin asked, and smiled again.
“Oh, I am from Imladris and I am heading towards the Grey Havens” she said “I love going on journeys and meeting people on the way! I just wish I had a companion to travel with though.” Elsilda said with a heavy sigh “and you are from?”
He was silent for a moment “I am from Ethring in the Ringlo Vale” he exclaimed, admiring Elsildas blue eyes. They both took Melde to the stables and gave her water an hay. “Elsilda it was lovely meeting you and I am sure we will meet again sometime soon. You should go inside and get dry and eat something!” Derufin said.
“Thank you so much for all the help, I really appreciate it” she exclaimed. She walked outside, the sun was still shining bright but there was a cold breeze.

Elsilda entered the Green Dragon Inn. It was warm and lovely inside and had a peaceful, calm environment. She looked around and everyone was smiling or talking, Elsilda loved these happy places. She walked over to the bar and took a seat. It was soft and comfortable, something she hadn’t experienced in a while. She loved journeys but didn’t like riding for days and not having company. Sitting at the bar was a beautiful slim, brown haired young woman. The young woman glanced over at Elsilda and smiled, Elsilda liked the look of this woman and wanted to befriend her but before Elsilda knew it the young woman was walking over to her.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

All afternoon, Nedieth had browsed the market tables but now it was early evening, so she headed back to the inn. By now she was smiling and looking over her new-found treasures like an excited elfling. In her hands she carried a beautiful glass bowl with flowers painted on the bottom and an ashwood box. On her head she wore a crown of white flowers that a hobbit lass had made for her. Around her neck she wore a new necklace with a flax chain and a brass charm imbedded with litte jewels that looked like stars. She chuckled gleefully, remembering what her mother had taught her about relishing in simple gifts.

As she neared the inn, she became more and more anxious to sip some warm apple cider and try to start a conversation with someone. These complete changes in mood were common in her, she reflected.
she would be sad one moment and the next be smiling sunshine.

She put the box and bowl back in her pack as she entered the inn and settled herself at a table. She glanced around the room as she waited for some to come to her and noticed an elf who sat with a women having her hair braided. Nedieth's heart beat faster as she realized the elf looked like she came from Eryn Lasgalen. She stood up quickkly and made her way over to the elf's table. As she neared, she heard the women beside her call her Elentari.

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: Larien Lindorenan ]

Rain poured endlessly, never granting a moment's mercy. The skies were darkened by the clouds above, and it was almost impossible to determine whether it was day or night. It didn't matter to the traveller, however. Time was nonexistant to him. It was only the journey that had any meaning.

Water overflowed the crease in the traveller's helmet, sloshing onto his face and shoulders. His entire body was drenched and his clothes would have to be hung to dry, should the sky permit it the next morning. He didn't care, for he was used to any harsh condition.

As he walked toward the center of the village, he heard the muffling of voices within hobbit holes and inns alike. Weary from a long journey, he chose the closest inn to stay the night. The lights from within the place shone down on the ground in front and shadows of figures moving danced across his face as he stepped forward.

Stopping just outside the door, he slung a large leather bag from his shoulder and plopped it into the mud, splashing some onto his worn boots and faded red pant legs. Rubbing his bruised shoulder and ignoring the mess, he glanced up at the swinging sign of the inn, "Green Dragon Inn" it said. "Well," he thought, "This is the place she told me to come to. Let's just hope she's right..."

He gave a grunt and, hoisting up his belongings over his shoulder, he stepped through the swinging door. The lighting revealed his details as he entered the inn. Matted brown hair stuck out of his helmet. He looked not a bit over thirty, his long face sculpted to near perfection. Scars did cross his face, but a very revealing one went from his nose through his right eye, leaving one eye blue and the other a clouded grey.

Squinting a bit from the sudden brightness change, he looked around. He had noticed that the voices he has heard from the outside were now very distinct and very...loud. Drinking songs were being sung in a corner as a hobbit was standing upon a table and cheering friends surrounding him. The traveller noticed, too, that there were more than just hobbits (which he knew it was very peculiar for the Shire to have more than one full-grown being there at a time). Indeed, two elves he noticed were close to the bar (one he saw with a wooden leg). Several dwarves were present as were some humans as well.

He dismissed these facts and ignored the noise, walking straight up to the bar and sat down on a full-sized stool, caring of nothing about his clothing dripping water onto the floor around him. Food first and sleep later, he told himself. "Barkeep...mead and a loaf, if you will."

With that, the kept to himself, although he kept his ears open in anticipation.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman nodded and smiled politely to the stranger, passing the order of bread and ale onto Ruby, who was trying as quietly as possible to sneak into the kitchen. As she turned again to the front, she noticed another come in, an elven woman.

Another elf! She smiled to herself, remembering Mithadan's comment and her own thoughts. And this elf was indeed as elegant and as quietly self confident as many of them - but as she looked up, Aman noticed her eyes were the most extraordinary shade of blue. Bright, cornflower blue, and warm as well...

The elf had started to come towards the bar, and Aman jolted back awake, trying not to stare. And certainly she did not seem as melancholy as many of the elves - she had an air of warmth and friendliness about her. But she was dressed in travelling clothes - and an elf travelling this way through the Shire could only really mean one thing eventually. Aman sighed - yet another of the immortals would sail.

The elf was at the bar now, and Aman moved over to her, sweeping the top of the bar with a cloth absent mindedly. Nodding her head politely, she smiled at the elf. "Good day, can I get you anything, miss...?" She left the end open.

She was greeted in reply with a beaming grin, and an eager reply. "Elsilda. My name is Elsilda. Could I have an ale and...lets see...have you any cheescake?"

Aman smiled - she liked this elf already, with her smiles and her ready, eager air. "I'll see what I can do - I believe Cook made some very recently - there's going to be a bit of a party pretty soon. Hang on a second," she broke off, raising her voice to call to Buttercup for a slice of cheesecake please, and the server scurried off to comply. Aman smiled after her, then turned back to the elf, beginning to pour an ale.

"My name is Aman, by the way - I'm the Innkeeper here at the Dragon. May I ask how you came around this area? More and more of the fair folk are passing through...." Sliding the drink across the bar, she raised her eyebrows in askance to Elsilda.

[Elsilda]

"Good day, can I get you anything, miss...?" the beautiful young woman said. Elsilda smiled and said "Elsilda. My name is Elsilda. Could I have an ale and...lets see...have you any cheesecake?" Elsilda loved cheesecake and ale, back in Imladris her mother made her cheesecake often. Elsilda thought back, she missed her mother and her friends. The young woman smiled at her again "I'll see what I can do - I believe Cook made some very recently - there's going to be a bit of a party pretty soon. Hang on a second," the young woman exclaimed. Elsida loved parties, the fancy dress the food and the wonderful joy in the air. She hadn’t been to a party in a while.


Aman called over a hobbit and ordered a slice of cheesecake and ale. The young woman looked at Elsilda, they were both in deep thought. "My name is Aman, by the way - I'm the Innkeeper here at the Dragon. May I ask how you came around this area? More and more of the fair folk are passing through...." the young woman said.
“I am from Imladris and I am heading towards the Grey Havens,” Elsida said. Aman kept looking at her blue eyes, many were amazed by them. The servent brought some cheesecake over. Elsilda took a sip of her ale and ate a piece of cheesecake. She smiled “oh, this cheesecake is devine!” she loved the cheesecake it tasted like her mothers, maybe even better. Aman smiled “everyone loves the cakes we serve and the cheesecake a chocolate cake are the favourites around here” she said. Elsida ate the cheesecake and was soon finished. “Thank you, it was perfect” Elsida exclaimed. “This is a lovely Inn you run. I passed some strange folk on the way, do they stay here by any chance?” Elsilda enquired.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

"Elentari?"

Soronume noticed a familiar face in the inn, though he had not looked upon it in some time now. Not since he last left Mirkwood after the quest to Cirith Ungol.

The elf walked over to the bar and asked for a drink, which he was served promptly. He studied the maiden. She looked changed, though only slightly. Wiser perhaps. And she was not alone, she had company.

When he has last seen Elentari, Soronume was sure that she would not leave Mirkwood, or the position of responsibilty that had been bestowed upon her, and so was curious to find out what had brought her to the Shire. He walked over to their table quietly...

"Elentari?" he questionned, "What news of Mirkwood? And how have you been? Have you heard from any of the others?" Soronume felt slightly embarrassed by this last comment, but waited for a reply none the less...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman laughed quietly, leaning gently on the bar as Elsilda finished her cheesecake.

"Strange folk?" She asked amused. "Goodness, depends on what you class as strange. We do indeed get all sorts around here. From the Havens to Harad."

Elsilda's eyes widened. "From Far Harad?"£

"Indeed, and from as far as Rhun. I do wonder why so many of such variety do come here, but then, I suppose I'm not exactly one to talk - why, you, an elf, have come from closer than I." At Elsilda's questioning look, she continued, "I was one of the Rohirrim horse trainers. So you see, it really does depend on what you class as strange."

Elsilda nodded thoughtfully, playing with her fork. "Indeed, so it would seem. But dwarves...?"

Aman shook her head. "The dwarf hasn't got a room here, but many of the elves do, to name one group - as I said, strange that so many should come through the Shire, but then...but then I suppose that's the way you will all eventually go." She couldn't help from looking a little sad here. How long will it be before the fairest and wisest of all pass out of Middle Earth altogther? Even this girl in front of you is on her way...

Elsilda must have noticed her sadness, for the elf tried a smile, leaning forward. "Our time here is passing," she murmured. "The time of the elves...it is waning. The time of men is coming, and we...we will sail to Valinor. Our last home." Her smile became more jovial suddenly, and she held up her ale as if making a toast.

"But until then, I for one will make the most of the fine hobbit food!"

Aman laughed with the elf, the sudden change of mood lightening the atmosphere like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Passing a look through the kitchen door, she caught sight of Aietmen again, who was curiously examining some of the vanilla beans. Cook will blow a fuse if she sees that... Aman thought, smiling slightly at the same time as biting her lip. The little hobbit boy had been good since his arrival, but Cook was certainly making it clear she wasn't all too happy about him - Aman had told her at the time of the incident about the 'horse-thief', and she knew Vinca suspected the boy was up to no good. But he had spun Aman a story, and it seemed likely enough - and the Innkeeper had no objection to him being around here. Besides, the twins were as curious about him as he was good with them, and Aman had no doubt that Pio had rather taken a shine to him.

However, Cook really would not be happy to see him playing with her vanilla beans. Excusing herself politely from Elsilda, the Innkeeper took the elf's dirty plates and went towards the kitchen.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel

Niniel stretched as she entered the common room; lifting heavy buckets all day had been unacustomed work for her. She was more used to 'light work,' though there wasn't going to be much call for that now that she had a respectable job. She waved to Aman, who was sitting with several elves, none of whom did the young woman recognize, though that was unsurprising considering how many elves Niniel had met previously--no, wait! One of the elves turned his head, and Niniel's heart gave a little flutter as she recognized Soronume.

Studiously avoiding staring at him, she walked over towards the bar, glancing back every few seconds at the handsome elf, if that be not too redundant. She just about ran into a man during one of those brief glances and only just saved herself from catastrophe.

"I-I-I do b-b-b-beg your p-p-pardon, s-s-sir! I-I-I wasn't w-watching w-w-where I was going," she stammered in apology. What was it about strange men that brought out the worst of her stutter...

____________________________________________

Reynion

Reynion smiled at his beloved as she enthusiastically described the places she'd been. It sounded as if she'd been enjoying her travels much more than he had his. Of course, she was unlikely to have been drunk out of her wits for most of the journey and hung-over for the rest. He lost track of her words at about the time she mentioned Ithilien; he was too caught up in watching the way her eyes sparkled, and the graceful way she moved her slender hands. A thin lock of bright hair had fallen into her face and trembled with the movement of her head for emphasis.

"Oh, that reminds me I have yet to procure a room, perhaps you can help me by directing me to the innkeeper?"

Called back to himself, Reyn mused, "Well, if you want, you could have my room. I could see if there was room in the stable..." he broke off as Taurewen shook her head emphatically. "Or we could ask Aman," he added. "I'm sure she could do something about a room for you."

He gently brushed the bit of hair out of her face, and pulled himself up onto his wooden leg with the ease brough by long years of practice. He took his staff in hand and led the way towards Aman and her many companions.

[piosenniel]

‘So, you are a traveler, as am I,’ said Pio, watching Nuinyulma rock her daughter. ‘Did you not visit Lord Celeborn in Rivendell? I believe that is where he dwells now, though I have heard he will soon travel the same road as did Galadriel; going West to look never more on his fair land.’ She laid her son in his cradle, his eyes heavy with sleep.

‘And Eryn Lasgalen – the Elven people of Thranduil’s realm have reclaimed it you know. And once more the leaves shine brightly there.’ Pio poured a mug of cool cider for herself and offered one to Nuinyulma.

‘Your story is a brief one – with much left out, I would say. And painful in those parts if I read the sadness behind your eyes aright. But that is your business, not mine to set right.’ She took a drink of the sweet juice, savoring it as it ran down her throat.

‘My story!’ She laughed in delight, the sound of tiny silvered bells skittering into the room. ‘Such a long one! We should be sitting here until the Inn falls down about our ears, and all has passed into distant memory.’ Her clear grey eyes met the young Elf’s. ‘Suffice it to say I had my childhood, such as it was, in Gondolin. And it was pleasant enough in that beautiful place; until it was betrayed into the hands of Morgoth. And by an Elf, no less!’

‘I was lucky to escape with Idril’s family, and after I was fostered by the Fallinelli, the Teleri who lived along the Falas between Brithombar and Barad Nimras. Still we were not safe from Morgoth’s dark hand. And later when he came against us we sailed south to Balar.’ Pio shook her head a little, then smiled, remembering that the Dark One was now overthrown and lay, well guarded behind the Door of Night . . . at least for the time being.

'Now, here I am in the Fourth Age, that of Man . . . and to be honest, I look forward to enjoying it, as long as the years left to me will allow.’ She reached down and stroked her baby’s cheek..

‘There is peace of a sort. The world has come to some resolve and seems set on a fresh course. I will enjoy it as will my children, until time comes for me.’

Pio laughed again, and refilled her mug from the ewer on the little table next to her. ‘And you, what pleasures are you looking forward to? Are you going on this quest I have heard rumors of?’ Nuinyulma was quiet, sipping her drink. Pio leaned down to freshen it.

‘You will come to the party, at least, will you not?’

The mead and bread slid over to him and the traveller nodded his appreciation and, with a grunt, drank down the sweet mead. It had been awhile since he had been able to drink such a beverage, and he gulped it down greedily. With a sigh and a slight belch, he put down the mug and lifted the loaf of bread, tearing into its warmth.

As he ate, still dripping from the rain, he overheard the conversation on the other end of the bar, "The time of the elves...it is waning. The time of men is coming, and we...we will sail to Valinor. Our last home." The traveller couldn't help but laugh to himself. "What a fool that elf is," he thought, "What a fool is any elf who believes that."

The voices had lessened to a constant murmer as it grew late and many either retreated to their rooms or went back to their homes in the village. He grew tired of listening any further to Pio or the others. Also was he tired of waiting for her. She would not show tonight, so he must wait until the next day. So, leaving a few gold coins with the emblem of the City of Corsairs, he walked to Aman and requested the keys to his room.

Deciding to wait in the hallway for Aman to finish her immediate tasks. As the traveller walked toward the hall, he bumped into one of the elves. The sudden jolt knocked off his loose helmet, it falling with a thud to the floor. Not even concerned with the elf, he quickly grabbed for the helmet and slid it back over his ears. Making sure no one saw them, he slowly stood up and turned to the elf he had accidentaly bumped into. Not knowing Niniel's name, he tried to mutter an apology, but all that came out was a raspy grunt.

Not giving the elf a second glance, the traveller turned and walked away.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: OniGene ]

[littlemanpoet]

Her hand touched his.

Falowik had been aware of Uien's hands, folded on the table, then unclasped, then one hand moving to his, acting for all the world as if it were metal drawn to magnet. The hairs on his fingers had risen in anticipation as he paid all the attention he could muster to the discussion with the hobbits. But all the while she was in his awareness. He knew where she looked, knew her expression, the meaning of her tone as well as her words, and he had felt her hand come nearer. Why not just surrender to it? he allowed himself to wonder, but knew the many answers by heart: not here, not now, he did not deserve her; and in any case, there was a life that maybe hung in the balance. The thought of Master Eodwine of Rohan served well to anchor Falowik safely between the deeps of his need and the shoals of his resolve.

He bent his fingers around hers, and smiled for her with his lips though not his eyes. He turned his attention to Doderic.

"Why wait for the morning, Master? We have learned what we came to learn here. The sun is still in the sky. Can we not make it to Bree by nightfall? Is that not what the Master of Buckland would want?" Uien's sudden frown was not lost on Falowik.

"Yes, the Master would like that best, and it could be done," Doderic mused, "though we'd not reach Bree by nightfall."

"Hold a moment!" Falco said. "If we'd not reach Bree by nightfall, what good is it to set out afore the morning? I say stay right here!"

"You may do what you like, Master," Falowik said, "but as the time slips away, Eodwine of Rohan stays lost, and maybe worse." Falco scowled.

"There's the Stonebow half way," Gorby ventured.

"What'd be the point of going half way if we can make it to Bree in just a couple hours more?" Falco protested.

Uien squeezed Falowik's hand. "She who has agreed to go with us will not be ready until tomorrow, and I should remain with her."

Falowik nodded. "So it should be, but I feel the hours slip away while I sit here, and I would be off to Bree to press on with our preparations there."

Doderic raised a hand. "I'm all for moving as quickly as we may, but one night in Bywater will not make a great enough difference, I deem. So let it be one breakfast here at dawn for Master Falowik, Gorby and me, and you also, Master Boffin, if you like, and then we're off to Bree."

Falco nodded and rose. "I have business to attend to that will keep me past the dawn, my friends, but you may expect me in Bree before nightfall tomorrow, if that meets with your approval, Master Doderic." Doderic nodded his approval, and Falco bid them good night with one last comment regarding the supposed need for Elven ladies in a search party in the wilds. Uien bit back a retort and turned her head away from the hobbit, looking to Falowik, who rose.

"The lady and I have pressing business," he told the hobbits. He nodded to Uien and she rose, and they walked out the front door of the Inn.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Primrose Bolger]

Now this was very interesting! Prim watched as the Elf slid her hand near that of the golden-haired man. She was pretty, Prim thought, but there was something in the man’s expression that signaled this was not the time for softness, though his own fingers wrapped about hers. He smiled at her, Prim saw, but the curve of his lips did not push the smile to his eyes.

Instead, the man turned to one of the Hobbits sitting near and listened with his full attention. Prim crept closer, her plate of food in her hands and sat down at a nearby table. Hungry as she was, she pushed her food about her plate with her spoon, one ear cocked toward the conversation.

One of the Hobbits raised a hand. "I'm all for moving as quickly as we may, but one night in Bywater will not make a great enough difference, I deem. So let it be one breakfast here at dawn for Master Falowik, Gorby and me, and you also, Master Boffin, if you like, and then we're off to Bree."

A few more words were spoken in a lower tone, and Prim was unable to catch them. She watched as the Elf and man walked from the Common Room.

‘Curious,’ she thought to herself, spooning up a bite of vegetables. She chewed them thoughtfully, looking closely at the Hobbit whom she had heard. ‘Now what might Hobbits be doing with an Elf and a one of the Big Folk in the Shire. And why were they in such haste to make for Bree?’

[ElentariGreenleaf]

There was silence in the Inn as the name ‘Mirkwood’ was said by Soronume. A quick glance from Elentari was enough to tell others in the Inn to continue their own conversations.

“Greetings, Soronume.” Elentari gestured to a seat next to her. “Please join us. Soronume, this is Finduilas, a Gondorian to whom I am now a mentor. Finduilas, this is Soronume.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Finduilas.

“And you.” Soronume was about to ask why the woman did not look directly at him, when Elentari elbowed him sharply in the ribs, so he said instead, “Why was there such hush when I mentioned the name of your home, Elentari?”

“The wood is no longer called by that dark name. Lord Celeborn and Kind Thranduil cleansed it more than a decade ago. It is known now as the Wood of Green Leaves, a name quite suited to the now fair place. I have been fine since we last met, though the evil things I have encountered have not fared so well,” she said with a smile. “As for hearing from the others, I have briefly spoken to a few, but have had little contact with them.”

“Ah,” said Soronume. “So that is why you are not in Mir- the Wood of Green Leaves. There is now nothing for you to defend wood against.”

“Yes,” laughed Elentari. “It seems I am out of a job!”

The three friends, some old friends, others new, laughed together and told many tales. Soronume offered Elentari and Finduilas drinks, but she would drink nothing alcoholic. Eventually Elentari decided it was time to ask Soronume how he came to be in the Shire.

“So, Soronume,” said the elf. “How did you come to be in the Shire? You have not visited here often.”

[elf-girl-63]

Pio had read her correctly but it was good of her not to say anything much. It was not the right time so speak of her past. It never really was.

"So the leaves in Eryn Lasgalen shine again. That is most probably the case but I would still not wander there. Leaves are part of the wood but the elves, well, they can move as they please. It is only when the fall, do leaves move."

She thought about the other elf's comments on Celeborn. "I had no desire to visit Lord Celeborn. I knew him in Lorien and no doubt to see me once more would sadden him. I would fear he misses his Lady and am surprised he has not left sooner."

She nodded in thanks as Pio refilled her mug and laid the baby girl next to her brother so both could take comfort and warmth from each other as they slept.

"I was to go on this quest... but I decided against it. I wasn't sure I would be useful and to be honest, wanted to spend more time at the Inn. I will indeed be a guest at the party and am looking forward to it. Mayhap, you will be telling some stories Mistress Pio, for that would be good entertainment. I'm sure your husband has some to tell by the looks of it as well."

She looked at Pio and there was a twinkle in her [Nuinyulma's] eye. "I had thought of you as a quiet one Nuinyulma but perhaps I was wrong! There shall be a fair bit of story-telling no doubt but perhaps more from others than myself. I hope you will give us some tales and some songs, since you are of Lothlorien it is to be expected."

"And you are of ages older than me or indeed anyone else in this inn, I hope you shall give us some. It is to be expected."

Both elves laughed merrily together and Nuinyulma felt a weight lifted from her heart and shoulders. The two babies stirred in their sleep and they looked guiltily at each other.

"It is a good job that I am not with my people at this moment," whispered Nuinyulma, "for we are supposed to be calm and wise."

"It is true," Pio whispered back, "but for now, we are in the land of the hobbits and laughing is one of their favourite occupations."

They both sipped their drinks once more and thought of the other.

Nuinyulma liked Pio. She was a young elf at heart though her age hid some sadness. It seemed that the arrival of the twins had renewed her faith in not only Middle-Earth but in life itself. Unless, she had always been like that.

A quiet entrance was not uncommon at the Green Dragon. With the number of visitors coming and going, combined with the passion and exaggeration of the stories shared within, a lonely wanderer trudging to the bar was an all too familiar sight. Hence, no one took much notice when an average man with an average demeanor side-stepped his way through the crowd and ordered the first of what would become many pints of what was said to be the finest ale in the area.

No-one noticed, except of course, Aman, whose keen eye (and even keener sense of tension) told her that this traveller was unfamilliar. "What'll it be, sir? A pint, I assume, if you don't mind my guessing." The traveller sat silently fo a moment, then replied "I don't mind you guessing at all, my lady, as that is exactly why I'm here."

As she poured the frothy ale into the glass, without shifting her gaze from the bar, she inquired as to who this stranger was. and what brings him to the shire. As he stared into the overflowing glass he replied "My name is Ahreknun, and my reasons for for my presance will need more than a few of these before they will be told."

He took a sip, closed his eyes, and shut out all around him save for his brew.

[piosenniel]

Everyone

There are new rules in effect for all the forums which will be enforced by the administrators and moderators. Please familiarize yourselves with them here:

NEW POLICIES

[Elora]

As Uien followed Falowik away, the buzz of voices fading, something revealed itself to her mind. In the late afternoon, Uien was uneasy as her mind unveiled it to her. Falowik was silent as he walked, his hand drawing her on after him. Down the steps of the front porch and out into the yard they went. Falco's parting comment was all but forgotten.

Falowik's stride was interrupted as Uien slowed, her fingers slipping a little from his. He turned, looking in askance at her and find her gaze locked on the ground. She was still, and her hand was freed. Uien felt warmth suffuse her face and she had the strong urge to twist her hands in her skirts as had oft been her habit in the days of her youth. Often she had stood, hands twined in her skirts as she grappled with her thoughts.

When she raised her head and looked back to Falowik, her face was grave and her expression difficult to read. She touched his arm and gestured towards the stables.

"If you leave this night, I would have you take what little I have managed to gather for the trail with you." Falowik frowned, nodded slowly and their path altered until the cooler shade of the stable swallowed them both. Uien made for where the bundles of herbs she had gathered with Falowik hung. She bent to retrieved a well wrapped parcel of provisions from where it leant against the stable wall with its mate.

"Doubtless the Master of Buckland will have ample provisions upon reaching Bree," she said as she offered Falowik the supplies. "There is bread, dried meat, grain and fruits, cram and cheese..." Her voice trailed off uncertainly and she sighed in sorrow. There was no hiding from the truth in her mind. Falowik took the proffered wrapped food from her in silence and her gaze dropped once more as she gathered her courage and her skirts.

Her fingers did not twine in their folds but rather she spread them as she curtsied, head bowed and remained there. In a low voice filled with regret, Uien ventured where she feared to tread.

"I seek your pardon," she whispered. "I promised aid that I did not deliver, and faithless must I seem now." Uien had seen it in his eyes when she reached for him across the table. She pushed past the ache within her and ventured to glance back up at Falowik. He stood staring ahead, jaw bunched tightly. Was it anger or disappointment? Both, Uien thought, were likely and deserved.

"If it is your will that I remain here, with my false promises and claims, you have but to say it. I will understand." Those last three words were the hardest of all to say. All she had in the world was the truth of her word, and she had failed the man she loved on that count. The prospect that Falowik would decide to take a different road that lead away from her was real and frightening. How could he place any faith in her and anything she had said?

Uien fell silent as she fought herself for control. The urge to ask him to smile upon her once more, beg him, was strong and she would shame him if she gave it voice now. Still, she could not disguise the tremor of her shoulders nor the gleam of tears unshed. Each moment of silence was like a bell tolling mournfully. Behind Falowik the afternoon light cast a golden gleam around his silhouette.

Uien remained as she was, skirts pooled around her in the straw as she gazed up at him with longing clear in her face. She hoped against hope, as ever was her wont, that somehow there was a way past her failure to find that road so bright that she wished to walk with him. Yet both the distance in his eyes within the commonroom and his silence hinted that already the road was lost and forever would she recall it's bright beckonning, paved with moments of lightness floating, laughter and a love unblemished by the woes of this world.

Oh Laurëatan, her mind sang wistfully as she gazed up at him. In that moment, her heart's longings were writ clear upon her face and all her spirit waited to reach for him across the chasm of her failure. Twilight was coming...

[Phervasaion]

The evening was beautiful and Phervasaion decided to make his way down to the green dragon after exploring the woods around it, as he did every time he came to the shire. Being a Ranger, he knew all about the wildlife and the animals in it and loved being with them.

He opened the old doors to the Green Dragon and, as usual, it was absolutly packed. He made his way to the bar noticing there was a new barmaid there since last time he came. Phervasaion was not a very talkative person but extremely polite.

"Good day," he said "one pint of ale please." After the barmaid gave him his pint he went to his usual place and sat down. He looked round the room with his keen eyes to see if he could recognise any old faces. He didnt see anyone he knew but noticed a man at the bar who seemed realy lonely except the man reminded Phervasion of the Ranger kind like himself but wasnt sure if he was one.

Phervasaion climbed out of his seat to greet this man.

"Hello friend, fine evening isnt it," Phervasaion said as he got to the bar.

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik gazed at Uien as she confessed her failure to find members for the search party. He was at a loss as she offered to let him choose whether she would come with him or remain behind. Tears came to her eyes but were unshed, and she trembled. He wondered what had made her say such words! They had parted speaking their love to each other, and now she offered to let him walk out of her life! They had just been in each other's company for no more than a few minutes. He wondered what had happened to her while he was away.

"Has someone said or done something ill to you while I've been gone?"

She shook her head, looking at the ground a moment, then meeting his gaze. "I did not keep my promise to you and found just one other to join us. That is all."

"You have done no worse than I."

His words fell flat, little comfort to her, it seemed, for her face did not change. A new thought came to him: that was not all. She was reading him and responding to what she thought must be in him. She did not know that he held himself so straightly because his need for her sang too boldly inside him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her tears away, to hold her and make the troubles of the world go away; at least for a brief moment. He could not allow himself to show his love for her; he had chosen to allow himself something. He tried to put that into words.

"Uien, Star Lady, you are a lodestone to me. No matter where I am, you will be at the heart of my world. It is not my place to tell you 'go there' or 'come here', for you are Lady and I am servant." The thought struck him as true and right, and in a motion he dropped to one knee before her, took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. "I adore you and am not worthy of you. Tell me how I may serve you."

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Lumiel]

A few last rays of warmth fell on Lumiel's fair face as she walked along the pleasant road in the Shire, not far from the Green Dragon. Off in the distance she could hear the laughter and gaiety of several young hobbits romping through the fields, finishing their honest-everyday work and now ready for play. She smiled as she listened and glanced upward to the sky which appeared in a myriad of twilight colors: deep, velvety blue, coppery orange, tawny yellow and a few pastel pinks and purples amongs the patches between the bright green leaves in the trees.

Her long brown hair was pulled back into a loose braid and her sleeves were rolled up, her cloak not present at the moment as the weather was more than temperate enough having not yet cooled from the day's heat. A child's song came unbidden to her mind and she hummed it as she began to skip lightly since she did not remember the words. The birds called clearly to one another in a rush of sounds as though trying to hurry any last messages before night claimed the land, and in her mind, they called to Lumiel as well.

After a second repetition of the simple rhyme, she realized that she had come in sight of the Green Dragon. On a whim, she decided to go inside for a drink, since she had little else to do. As she made her way forward, she saw out of the corner of her eye movement in the half-shadows of the stables. She turned to see Uien and a man, deep in conversation. Uien appeared on the verge of tears and a sudden tug pulled at Lumiel's heart, wishing to cure whatever ailed the elven woman. She turned her focus to the man and guessed that it was likely to be Falowik. Her glance hovered a moment on his features, seeing him for the first time.

At that moment he went to his knees and kissed Uien's hand, and in her mind the connection between Uien and Falowik clicked. She blushed to see the two together, knowing that it was not meant to be seen. She had no intention of telling anyone, especially since she knew very few here besides Uien herself with whom she felt a strange kinship, though she knew not if it was reciprocated.

She quickly turned her eyes away and hurried into the Inn, not wanting to intrude anymore, be it intended or not. She strode up to the counter and asked for a cider, giving a few coins to the servant in return. She found an empty table in a corner and took a seat, looking around the room.

Lifting the glass to her lips, she drank deeply, enjoying the sweet taste. She licked her lips in an almost dainty manner and smiled her approval of the drink. Crossing her legs, she sat back to relax. As she did so, she felt some part of her shirt catch onto the chair. She used one hand to try and adjust it, but to no avail. After a few more failed tries, she decided to stand so she could turn and see it better.

Although Lumiel was an elf, she had her random moments of absolute and total obliviousness and clumsiness: this was one of them. As she stood with her glass in hand, her legs became entangled with those of the chair and of the table. Her free arm waved rather comically as she tried to regain her balance. She wobbled a moment before twisting and falling to the floor, landing on her behind in a rather ungraceful manner. As she went, the glass left her grasp and made a flight through the air like that of a laden swallow (suffice it to be a European swallow) and plunged to the ground, soaking her with the cider she been enjoying only a moment before. Luckily, the glass itself did not break.

Lumiel blinked a few times as she wiped cider from her face, where it was already becoming sticky where stray hairs were plastered to her face. Looking herself over, she saw that she had doused most of her head and shirt, with a few dark spots on her pants. Realizing fully now the situation, she broke out laughing. It rang clearly through the Inn and was that of an innocent young maid, acting more the part of a girl than anything else.

Her laughter continued, and between her gasps for air, she managed to call the server to her and she asked, "I think - Ha Ha Ha Ha! - I need - snicker - a refill please!" and went on giggling to herself, receiving more than a few stares in the process, not that her previous performance a moment before hadn't attained for her a few looks as well.

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: Lumiel ]

Elentari sat with a man and a women in the corner of the inn. Nedieth gulped and walked over to her.

" My lord and ladies. Forgive me for interrupting, but you seem to be from Eryn Lasgalen. I am Nedieth and that was my original home. I was wondering if you had any news," Nedieth said timidly.

[Imladris]

I listened quietly to Soronume and Elentari converse and wondered what he looked like. Was he man, or elf? Turning to the window, I felt along the smooth glass until I found the latch, then, fumbling a little as I struggled to release it, I pushed the window open. I leaned my head on the sill, my elbows hanging out slightly, and breathed deeply. The musty scent of the wood tickled my nostrils, the faint scent of wildflowers hovered near; I could feel the pattern of the wood against my finger-tips, something crept steadily upon my arm, tickling me as it tiptoed along. The evening was utterly still, peaceful, and calm. I wanted to run, tumble around in the grass and lay still, feeling the grass prickle my back and to listen to the crickets strum. I could hear them still, but only faintly from within the inn.

I wanted to read again, to read the flowing, powerful scripts of Gondor. What I would give to play the tales and lays of generations past upon my lyre again. I clutched convulsively at the wooden sill at the memories…the memories of the loom long forsaken, of the spinning wheel as it made unruly wool into fine thread, the herbs that made the sick well again and cured the wounds of soldiers, of the fire that danced, shedding its lurid light upon the walls, creating fantastic shadows that flickered and jumped ominously.
Flashes of pain came suddenly to my eyes: they were common, but the pain did not grow less. Ever since that day in Gondor, these spells have come to me: maybe my eyes were injured, and this pain was fruit of that injury. My head throbbed, my eyes flamed, and I groaned softly, glad that no one could here. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would come to me and drive the pain away. I dimly remembered that I needed to get a room…

A voice entered into my dreamy thoughts that asked, “" My lord and ladies. Forgive me for interrupting, but you seem to be from Eryn Lasgalen. I am Nedieth and that was my original home. I was wondering if you had any news?" I almost laughed out loud, but managed to stifle it into a snicker. Me, a lady? I wondered if it was a compliment or a sarcastic insult. Certainly Elentari and maybe Soronume, but not me. I was a peasant, a lay girl of Gondor, barely eighteen. I smiled a little and thought the elf sounded rather timid. It must have been a compliment. Turning in her general direction, I smiled at her.

[Elora]

An incongruous sight they must have been, kneeling in the straw and pressed dirt of the stable beneath the bundled herbs that hung from an overhead beam. It was as though they had fallen from that present into a golden ray of afternoon sunlight. Falowik's lips brushed against her fingers lightly and her eyes drifted shut at the sensation as he spoke.

When they opened again, Falowik found them filled with many things that words could not give shape to. She made no move to withdraw her hand. Instead, Uien leaned closer. The fingers of her other hand trailed along Falowik's jaw. A heart such as his is beyond servitude, she thought.

"If you would serve, then serve your heart, my love. For from it comes that which sets you apart to shine as you do. Trust to it, for I do." Her voice was a murmur. Her hand fell to press over his chest, over his heart. She could feel its living beat through her fingers and palm. Uien smiled gently at that.

"Your heart do I serve, such is my choice Falowik Laurëatan." The words seemed to well up from within her as her thoughts spiralled with her spirit. She wondered if he knew how near she was to pulling him into her arms before the night parted them once more for a time. Perhaps he does.

[littlemanpoet]

"Would that I could serve my heart, Lady." He did not stop her from touching him, though he knew he should, for it defeated his purpose. She had laid her hand against his chest, making him aware of his heartbeat. It brought to mind words he had exchanged with the Master of Buckland.

"Uien, this heart you feel beneath your hand will stop beating in a few short years, and then you will be left alone, living for years and years, heartbroken, I fear. Master Brandybuck told me a tale I had never heard, of Beren and Luthien." Recognition shown in Uien's eyes. Emotions rippled across her face, bitter joy and sweet sorrow, and a brow written with doubt. "Ah. You know it, of course. Would you go to the Halls of Mandos and beg a boon for us? It cannot be done, for I am no Beren, and Luthien was like none other, though you would be Luthien enough for me, could such a thing be. But you know better than I what dire things have come from the union of Man and Elf. Would you deny your deathlessness for me? Could you? I would not have you do so. I can serve you in all ways but one, Lady. I can adore you, worship you, serve your every need and whim, and bring you all the joy I may, but I cannot-"

Falowik's throat caught, and in that instant knew that what he could not say he could not do, for saying I cannot love you was not possible.

"I - I can, and do-" he paused yet again and swallowed, then resumed "-and do love you, Lady, but-" the words were hard to find "-we cannot be-" Scree and slush! This is hard! "-I must not husband you." He looked into her eyes. "I am sorry."

Falowik rose, wondering whether he had too much or not enough. Uien's heart was in her eyes as she watched Falowik bow, bid her farewell, kiss her hand one last time, and leave her standing in the stables; she had the presence of mind to give him the herbs she had prepared.

Falowik returned to the Inn and prevailed upon Gorby and Doderic to leave before dusk overcame. With much grumbling they did as he asked. Before the last hint of the sun had slipped from the sky, the horse and two ponies were headed east toward Bree.

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Nerindel]

Taurëwen felt her cheeks warm as Reyn gently brushed the lock of hair that had fallen across her face aside, then she followed him as he led the way towards a friendly looking woman, a Daughter of the horse masters he whispered as they neared. But just as they reached the table and before they could she the Rohirrim woman stood up and headed for the kitchen.

"Excuse me Miss Aman!" Reyn called after her. The woman stopped and turned towards them, her friendly smile adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the inn. "We are sorry to keep you from your tasks," Taurëwen smiled seeing the dishes in the innkeepers hands. "No think not of it" the innkeeper answered, placing the dishes on the counter of the bar and wiping her hands on her apron. "What may I do for you?" she smiled

"My Love fears that if she waits any longer there will be no rooms left to be had!" Reyn laughed indicating the fast filling common room, "Ah, yes, their does seem to be a good many of our kin here this evening and more besides," she smiled hoping that she wouldn't have to spend another night under the stars, not that she minded really, watching the stars as they winked in and out sent on in to a calm and restful slumber, but the rain from the morning had looked like it might return ere nightfall.

"I'm sure we can find something, not all those here tonight are spending the night," she smiled reassuringly. They watched the innkeeper as she reached across the counter and pulled out a large book and a dark ink pot, a large green quill lay across the book. Aman carefully opened it and laid it on the counter, "If you just sign here, I will see to a room for you." Aman said indicating the next empty line on the guestbook.

"Thank you." Taurëwen smiled nodding her head graciously. Then picking up the quill she neatly added her name to the list of guests staying at the Green Dragon inn.

[Gorothlammothiel]

"What brings me to the Shire?" Soronume repeated the question from Elentari and smiled at her, "is it so odd that an elf should be in the Shire Elentari?" Elentari laughed, "well, perhaps not so odd when they are out of a job".

"Out of a job? Perhaps, but you are a mentor now, are you not." Soronume smiled at the maiden. "Forgive me, I have not introduced myself properly, the lady Elentari gave but a brief introduction. Finduilas, was it not? I am Soronume, an old friend of your mentor here. We travelled together, with others, on a quest, now quite some time ago and although I had heard of her since, I have not had the pleasure of talking to Elentari since that quest culminated."

Finduilas seemed to accept this introduction but remained quiet and did not make eye contact with Soronume. She did however look upon him. She now knew he was an elf, but his appearance seemed to suggest otherwise. He was clothed in worn, earthy shades and a dark cloak hung about his shoulders. His hair was dark and hung about his chin, his eyes deep and dark.

"Soronume, you have not yet answered my question" Elentari smiled. He thought for a moment about his answer, then quietly spoke.

"I must confess, I am rather a regular here now. To the warmth of the inn anyway, I have ventured but twice into the land around. This inn is where I was first before your company befriended Eruwen and myself." Soronume paused and raised his drink to his mouth. Slowly he placed it back down on the table.

[Elora]

Uien remained in the stables for some time, her thoughts and heart wildly whirrling around her with Falowik's words. "I cannot husband you." Of course he couldn't. She well knew why that was. The Master of Buckland knew perhaps as much of this as any could expect of a Hobbit, maybe more. She would travel anywhere to win even a brief life with Falowik. Be it the Halls of Mandos or even the pits beneath Caradhras. Yes, even there and she knew what was in such dark places for she had been there before.

Uien stood, staring at the hand that had rested over Falowik's heart and for an instant it was caked in dirt and blood, her own. That was why he could not husband her. For all she could bring was the stain of her past, the shadow of that torment, and Falowik was owed much more. Uien blinked and her hand as it was now reappeared. It shook lightly.

No, she could not bind Falowik to that. She could not change her past nor expunge the shame of the orc pits any more than she could change the course of her heart. It had chosen. Husband or no, its choice was made. So, she would love still, as strongly as her very soul demanded she would, this man. Her years would be as brief as his, husband or no, in that choice. The Master of Buckland could not know that Luthien's choice was made long before her father struck that fateful bargain with Beren.

It was a bittersweet accord that Uien came to. To love but not to bind. To shelter him in her heart always but never to reach for what she could not have. She understood and had known ever since she first stepped away from the Dwarves those years ago. She was fortunate beyond her measure to even know this love. She would not squander it by grasping for more than was to be hers.

When Uien emerged from the stables, she walked slowly with a face grave and pale. It would not be an easy road, the one she had taken in her chosing. Still, she was resolved and her will was something that had always run strong within her. Perhaps, in time, whilst she could not cleanse herself of her past she could find a different way to be something befitting of Falowik.

It was a hope that carried Uien back into the commonroom and to a table in a quiet corner. She sat, head bowed for a long while. Then, she took out a partially begun carving of a mallorn flower and took up again. Her skirts gathered the shavings and chips of wood and the carving gathered the instensity of what eddied within her.

[Beruthiel]

Lavender Took followed the muddy old track towards the Green Dragon. Her long dress was dragging on the floor and she cursed when she saw the lovely lace edging coming undone. She picked up her skirts off the ground, checking that no one was there to see of course and continued on the path. The youngish hobbitlass (as she said whenever anyone asked her age) had curly brown hair which, given the chance could be very messy, but Lavender being who she was made sure every curl was kept in place by a well hidden pin. Her chestnut brown eyes were one of the few things Lavender like about her face though she severely detested her nose (and especially the tiny freckles which were visible when you were about one hand’s length from her face). Finally Lavender reached the door of the Green Dragon Inn, but before opening it she hurried to one of the windows to check her hair was in place, and then pushed open the door very timidly.

At first the Inn took her by surprise, rather than groups of drinking hobbits, Lavender saw just as many elves and men, maybe more. ‘Well, what IS the Shire coming to. Can’t even find a decent inn where there aren’t outsiders spreading gossip and all sorts. Oh deary me, look! Even the innkeeper is a foreigner. How atrocious!’ Shaking her head she headed towards the bar, hoping no one would notice her rather muddy lace trimmed skirts. ‘Dear me, what would Aunty Esmeralda say if she saw me here!’ (Aunt Esmeralda being a distant relation and nothing of an Aunt at all but Esmeralda had stayed with Lavender’s family so often she had finally moved in and ordered everyone to call her Aunt and it stuck that way).

Lavender approached the innkeeper and introduced herself.
“Hello, you must be the innkeeper. I’m Lavender Took and I think I’ll be staying for a few days. Do you have a spare room?”

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen had fallen asleep in the large tree by the Inn. Very odd for her falling asleep, she never fell asleep, perhaps it was something in the Shire some peacefulness that enveloped around you so you could sleep.

The sleep was needed no doubt she would barely have the opportunity to take advantage of it again; when she left this place, but in her mind she could not help but feel guilty. Perhaps she should have aided Uien with gathering up people to their cause,

it would not work she thought hazily, no doubt people seek peace and refuge here not fighting and adventure that could claim their lives. The thoughts were soon taken over by older memories of fire and hate and death.

You will not have your way with me, I know this all, you've shown me before why do you plague me? She screamed at her dreams.

She looked about her, Narkir dripping black and her own hands burning from the hot blood they were laced with. Ashes stuck to her eyelashes becoming thick and wet, she tried to wipe them away but the blood got into her eyes then. It blinded her only for a moment the tears took care of that; if only I could save them all, she stood alone along the burning corpses and mass hysteria sundered from her Kin by flames and orcs. And so it was she knew of no one that survived, some did survive but she never saw them and they never saw her thinking her dead and they lament always for her, especially Calan, who loved her dearly.

Nedieth smiled back at Finduilas while Soronume and Elentari finished their conversation. Then she realized the girl was blind. That made her even more shy.

" Hello, maiden," she said. " You seem to be...uh...Gondorian? What is your name?"

[Witch_Queen]

Smani walked into the inn. She looked around to see so many strangers around. After her long journey she decided it was time to rest her tired legs and see what was occuring in the small village.
"Greetings all. The name is Smani and I come from Eryn Lasgalen."

So many people she thought to herself, I hope they aren't the type to run off travelers like me. She decided to pull up a chair and listen to what stories might be exciting to her ears. But now her throat was dry. What to do? I need to find something to drown my thirst.

[Witch_Queen]

Elves what would elves like these be here? This place isn't all to comforting but at least i'm not being questioned. Her green eyes seemed almost confused at the sight of the elves.

She decided to approach the elves. "Excuse me," she said "Anyone from the Eryn Lasgalen region of this world." Afraid that the elves might be from another place she decided to just set back down at the table and continue her rememberance of her fallen father.

Three years I've wondered without a companion. Three years its been since my father died. Now my travels bring me to this very friendly place. A tear almost came to her eyes while she was having her own little debate in her head. She couldn't hold the tear back. As it rolled down her cheek she just sat there in her own little world. The voice of her father screaming her name haunted her dreams. "Just go away!" she screamed. She looked up and heard only silence. Almost embaraced at the shout she decided it was no right. It will never leave me. I can never be left alone. My life will always be haunted with the constant memory. The silence didn't last long.

[Chathol-linn]

She opened the door and stepped out of the rainy dark.

She had traveled a long way and would travel longer still before sailing to Tol Eressea, where the Exiles now lived in peace with the Teleri. Hearing that Elves had gathered at the Shirefolk’s inn, she made her way there. If there were Elves and Hobbits, there would be Mortals too. Together they would make a congenial company for a solitary wayfarer.

She thought, It would be good to have company after so much solitude on the road.

Here it was. The Green Dragon Inn. The crowd-sound subsided as she made her way towards the bar. Pure Noldor, she was, with the great height, black hair, grey eyes, and facial bones to prove it. She saw Hobbits, Mortals, and many fair Elves. Sindar, no doubt , she thought.

“Greetings!” she said to the Mortal Woman who stood behind the bar. “Am I speaking with the proprietor of the Green Dragon?”

When the woman nodded and asked her name, she said, “Call me Huntress.” And indeed she looked the part. She was dressed, top to toe, in clothes made from the hide of the small red deer, native to the eastern forests. Her tunic and breeches fit easily and carried fringe at the sleeves and seams. Her black hair was wild and beautiful against the russet color, and it tangled around the quiver and bow on her back.

“That has been my name since I came, many long-years ago, to the House of Thranduil in Greenwood the Great. How you stare! Yes, I have lived from the Second Age to this the Fourth and seen the Great Greenwood pass through mirky shadows to the Eryn Lasgalen of today.”

The Inn’s owner seemed almost Elvish herself in her ability to anticipate a guest’s request. Huntress accepted a pottery mug of humming brown ale. She raised it first to the Inn lady and then to the gathered folk. And to their amusement, she began to sing:

By the banks of Bywater, where the water meets the road,
The Drag On Inn drags travelers in, to rest their weary loads.
The Mistress keeps a tavern there with drink so stout and strong,
The clientele all yell for ale and bellow drinking songs!

“Are you a bard, Huntress?” inquired the Inn lady, laughing. “You may call me Aman.”

“No, Aman” replied Huntress, “but I am married to Galadel, Thranduil’s minstrel to this very day. And I was the traveling companion of an Elf in whom the Teleri blood was pure, and you know no one in Arda sings like a Sea-Elf. She came with me to the House of Thranduil and we stayed there a long time. Her amilessi tercenyë [mother-name of insight] was ... Quill and she became Bard of the Elves of Mirkwood in those dark times.

Huntress’s face grew sad. “She and my husband taught me what minstrelsy I know.”

‘Why did you look sad?” asked Aman.

“When I think of my old companion, I am reminded of her unwitting part in the tragedy that befell Thranduil. But that is no story for so merry a gathering. And now, Mistress Aman, I must tell you – I have no coin to pay for this good drink.”

The smile was back on Huntress’s face. Her grey eyes twinkled like wood ash mixed with ice crystals. “Must you call for the constable?” she inquired.

[ October 24, 2003: Message edited by: Chathol-linn ]

The traveller moved toward the hall, glancing back toward the female he had bumped into, making sure she wasn't looking at him. To his great surprise, she was not an elf as he had previously thought, but a human! How could he have mistaken her as one so easily?

Not knowing her name, and at the moment, not caring, he did not speak aloud to her...or to anyone else for that matter. His boots clanked along the floorboards, kicking off cakes of hardening mud. He reached his room (what he hoped to be it) and turned the knob. Before stepping in, however, he looked back into the diner and made sure that he was there or not. Seeing that he had not arrived, the traveller stepped into his room for a night's rest, closing the door behind him with a slam.

[Everdawn]

Outside the Inn, another visitor trudged along the dusty little hobbit road. It was a young woman, and she carried with her a small bag and a folio from which the appearance of several pages and pieces of canvas were escaping from their fixtures. Still the woman strode along, oblivious to everything but the colours of the darkening sky. Suddenly she stopped right in the middle of the road outside the Inn and dropped everything she was carrying to shade her face as she looked at an interesting cloud formation, light lightly by the disappearing light.

“Stunning” she muttered to herself as her hazel eyes squinted to seek out more shapes. Then form inside the Inn came two hobbits, one slightly drunk swayed right into the poor girl after tripping on all her scattered belongings. Exasperated, she tore her sun-hat (though it was now dark) form her head revealing a thick mane of burgundy hair. “Soooory’s we are madam.” The hobbit slurred before walking off, The girl watched him for a while before replying “..And a good evening to you fellow…” she was now aware of the presence of a messenger boy waiting on the road in front of her. “Well then?” she asked him bluntly. The messenger just looked at her, his horse grunting impatiently. “Your things are in the way.” He replied coolly. “Who says they are my things? I could just be standing in the road next to them, or minding them, take it how you will.” she though it stupid of him to make assumptions.

“Well, im just guessing, since the residents of the shire are mainly hobbits, and you are at least to tall to be a hobbit… and those bags are too big for a hobbit to manage, im thinking they belong to you.” The messenger frowned. “Well, your horse can jump cant he?” she enquired. “Couldn’t it just simply jump over them?” The messenger dismounted. “Not if I have to deliver this to the Green Dragon.”
“The Green Dragon?” she asked even though she was standing right under the sign. The messenger pointed to the sign above her head. “Oh, I see” she muttered. “The Green Dragon what though?” it puzzling her each second she stared at it. “Inn” the messenger said. “Who is the message for?” she asked, the man grumbled. “A Miss Sírabel Delone.”

The girl jumped in surprise. “That’s me! Unless there is someone here with that very same name!” she though for a second. “Highly unlikely…” The messenger handed her the envelope and rode away. Sírabel hastily picked up her things and walked in the door of the Inn. What met her was astounding, elves, hobbits, dwarves and people. “Well that is in the most, the most interesting thing I have seen or heard since I learned that Strider was a king! Fancy that! Strider, a king! I shan’t believe it until I see it!” she said looking around once more. Finding an empty spot at the bar she sat herself down and tapped her knees until she remembered the letter that was given to her by the messenger.

“Sírabel,
You sister has given birth to a daughter,Though we did not name her Dragon or Entey or any of the other dozens of strange names you suggested, she is called Sírawen after her mother.
Your Brother-in-law
Laon.”
“I thought Entey was a lovely name… a darn sight better than Sírawen ill say!.. Let my painting expedition go well indeed! Ill let them have it this once…” she frowned seriously. She tapped her fingers before feeling thirsty. She leaned over the bar to find whatever hobbit may be servicing it. “Hello down there!” she called but to no avail, the run was empty. “Oh Dear!” she sighed tapping the bench top with her fingernails.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Elentari smiled as Finduilas began to converse with Nedieth, who she had seen once or twice in the Wood of Green Leaves, but had never spoken to. Finduilas was making new friends, leaving Elentari to talk to an old friend.

“So you are a regular at the Dragon then?” laughed Elentari. “It seems so long ago that you and Eruwen came across our company at the borders of Eryn Lasgalen and joined us on that ominous quest.”

“Yes,” replied Soronume. “But that quest could not have been anywhere near as ominous as other ones you have been on.”

“No. It does not come close to when I lead my own mission to the Blue Mountains. A great dragon lived in a cave there, kidnapping elves from Eryn Lasgalen and dwarves from the Iron Hills to use as slaves.”

“Why did he need slaves?”

“To stoke a fire, mine precious metals from deep in the caves, and then create armour to cover the only place in his scales where a brave warrior could penetrate them, stabbing his cold heart. If it were not for a brave dwarf, whom I admire for his selflessness, then the great Wyrm may not have been defeated. Many died, but they live forever in the words of a song I sang as I returned home.”

“A song?” asked Nedieth. “Will you please sing it for us?”

“Yes,” said Finduilas, “sing it Elentari. I’m sure you have a most beautiful singing voice! I have never heard an elf sing.”

“Well,” said Soronume. “It looks as if you must sing now, Elentari. All three of us want to hear you sing!”

Elentari sighed. It was a long time since she had sung the song, for it contained memories of terrible events. Yet the memory of her friends who had perished must be kept alive, so the elf stood an began to sing:

“ Once, I fought a great beast of old,
But I returned safely, though my friends did not.
And yet again, I find I've fought,
A great Wyrm from who knows where.
And yet again I've survived,
Though not all my friends have.

I mourn the loss,
Of my dear friends.
I can only blame myself,
But yet I did all I could,
Even Elbereth could not help them,
But their deaths were not in vain.

Nalin, Alcyávëiel, Selvren, Merenwen, Callo,
You gave your lives for your friends,
And you'll stay in our hearts,
Till the end of our days and forever more.

I know I will one day face another,
My destiny is to free these lands from pain,
But when will I stop wandering these lands,
And join my loved ones in the Havens to the west?
Maybe one day I'll find my place,
And go there to be at peace.

Hear my words, O you things of the night,
I'll find where you are and hunt you down.
I'm not afraid to face the call,
That draws me and leads me to you.

Hear my words, O free peoples,
Do not fear what lies ahead,
You must learn to face the truth,
And accept it with open arms.

Elbereth, O Star Queen,
I thank you now.
You've watched over me,
And have saved me once more”

There was hush in the inn, as all turned to listen to the song. As Elentari finished, loud clapping started and many people shouted compliments to the elf, who blushed slightly and sat down.

“That was beautiful,” said Finduilas. She paused for a moment. “Would you teach me it, someday?”

“Of course,” replied Elentari. “And many other songs too. I can tell from you speaking voice that you have an excellent singing voice.”

Finduilas smiled as she lost herself in memories of singing while working when she was younger. She soon continued her conversation with Nedieth.

Elentari sat for a while in silence, and Soronume was about to ask her why she ha suddenly gone quiet when she suddenly rose from the table and walked over to an elf who sat alone.

“Greetings, Smani.” Elentari surprised the elf by knowing her name.

“How do you know my name?” Smani asked.

“You introduced yourself to those elves over there a moment ago,” Elentari said as she pointed to a group of elves. “But I have seen you in Eryn Lasgalen before. Will you join my companions and I?”

“Certainly,” said Smani politely, following Elentari back to the table where the others sat.

Elentari introduced Smani to the others who sat at the table. They talked for some time, but after a while Smani became quiet.

“Something troubles you,” said Elentari to Smani, almost in a whisper so only Smani could hear. “Do not let the past haunt you. Share your troubles with me. It often eases the pain, sharing your past with another, so that they may help you and cry with you, for I saw the tear role down your cheek.”

[Nerindel]

Taurëwen turned pulled by the melodic tones of elven song, it silenced the room entirely, but as the elf sang of a mission in which her foe was vanquished and friends lost, she felt warm wet tears roll down her cheeks as the memories of their own mission came flooding back to her mind, the dark tower on Amon lanc had haunted her dreams relentlessly until the day it was thrown down.

But the faces of Airelóme, Gilbereth, Ainemention, her own brother and those they were forced to leave behind burned in her mind, if she could she would have given her own life to save them all.

The aloud applause brought her out of her dark thoughts, she had always felt guilty in the feelings she had for Reynion during their imprisonment under that dark tower, she shuddered slightly as if a chill ran down her back and as she looked at the tall elf her face was suddenly familiar, "Spyder Slayer!" she whispered recalling the elven warrior from her home, like all warriors they often found their way to her hall, but she recalled that the elf would refuse healing till her fellows were tended.

She looked at the woman, her deeds where noted in a great many songs, but Taurëwen healer of the fair woods of Eryn Lasgalen found her self envying the warrior her strength of mind, Those had been sad times and Taurewen having lost much in that fateful mission had thrown herself into the protection and healing of the wood, killing their enemies with a ferocity that none would believe possible of the gentle natured elf.

The large spiders of the woods fared the worst by her sword, she blamed them for the fracture in her heart, if not for them she would not be alone, but each one killed by her sword brought her no comfort and even the new trees and plants that she planted to replace those damaged or torn down by the foul creatures of the dark tower did nothing but distract her from thoughts of her loss.

But with things well again her pain and emptiness had returned, but turning back to Reynion she smiled, but perhaps it was a time for healing for all she thought hopefully, she had found the one for who her heart had yearned and she had found another who had needed her help, they will be here soon she thought, but as she looked at Reynion she saw his brow was creased with concern and unspoken question played on his lips.

What is it? she urged gently.....

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Taurewen gave Reyn a glance that told him that he hadn't been hiding his confusion very well. So, he did the most obvious thing, and asked, "Taurewen, can we go up to my room? I need to ask you something."

She acquiesced, and they climbed the stairs to the room in which he was staying. It was a very plain room, and it didn't look like someone had been staying there for some days. Nothing of his personality was visible. One almost could think that he had only just gotten the room, which was not true. Reyn suddenly felt rather uneasy, afraid to ask his question for fear of her answer.

They stood in the room for a moment in silence, then Taurewen gently prompted, "What is it, beloved?"

Reyn ran his hands through his hair, trying to think how best to phrase it. Or if he should just forget the whole thing, which wasn't really an option. He had to know.

"Taurewen, I, well, I've wondered this since you arrived the first time, and--" he broke off embarrassedly. He shook his head, and started again. "Why me? I'm not wise, even if elves are supposed to be, I'm not brave, I've only one leg, I left you without a word, I'm a drunk. Why did you choose me out of all the elves in Middle-Earth?"

He shrugged. "I know why I love you. You're beautiful and wise and wonderful and kind and giving. I'm none of those things." He added, trying rather unsuccessfully to lighten his tone, "Especially not beautiful."