The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[Kransha]

The gentle roar of Snaveling was more than enough to wake Tobias Hornblower. He was perked up within instants, color returning to his face, his bloodshot eyes widened orbs of light, and his features buzzing with movement. His drunken trance was lifted like a morbid cloud flowing away, leaving only a warmth and sunlight in the gentlehobbit’s visage. He heard the finality of Snaveling’s words and turned, sitting upright in his chair as he regained a finer posture.

“By the Shire, you’re right, Snaveling. I do apologize for being such a dreadfully dreary fellow, but I swear by all the pipe-weed in Longbottom that I’ll make up for it. Tonight is a night for partying, Snaveling, and I intend to show my worth on the subject. You and I are going to have something that, I believe has oft eluded us of late…fun. Yes indeed, my friend, we are going to make the best of this.”

The elder hobbit was about to rise, pushing up on the ample arms of the chair, but sagged back down for a moment and raised a halting finger before Snaveling could ascend. He reached slowly into the crenellated corners of his vest and coat, stabbing about in unseen darkness with his knobby fingers.

“But first, Snaveling, I must compose a brief letter. Just a moment, if you please.”

From his prodigious inner vest, Toby drew out a fine quill and a narrow scrap of parchment, which he lay down ceremoniously on the nearby table. He leaned over, hunching his back, and pulled a protective arm around to shield the letter from view. Even though he knew Snaveling was aware of the purse’s contents, he wanted the letter itself to be unknown. He quickly began slashing away at the parchment with the quill pen, dipping it curtly in an ink pan which he also produced, popping off the lid and setting it beside his newly arranged work desk on the table. He began to write.

Dear Miss Amanduial, most fair innkeeper of the Green Dragon,

As is my knowledge, over the course of the last weeks, you and the valiant denizens of the Green Dragon have gone through many hardships and woes, but have strived enough to get us all where we are this jovial night. Though I am ashamed to admit it, I have not been a great help during these hard times and, in fact, have acted more as a hindrance. I could merely apologize, but that would be no more than a weak gesture on my part. Instead, I have mustered together this, a gift, to be used however you see fit to help the Green Dragon in the future. The purse you hold contains no more and no less than eleven coins, one for each letter in ‘Green Dragon.’ I pray you take this gift and consider my debt at least partially paid. I wish you good fortune for as long as you require it.

Sincerely, Tobias Hornblower the Third

Concluding the note with his signature execution of a intricate flourish, scribbling his name in larger, heavily inked calligraphy and pulling up the quill swiftly. He admired the stylish cursive before rolling the note into a miniscule scroll and sealing it with a slim piece of crimson ribbon that he’d produced from one of his many pockets. After tossing the scroll in his hand momentarily, he took it between his index finger and thumb as he handed it, holding the note like a fine porcelain cup, to Snaveling.

“Now, good Snaveling, do me the great favor of giving both note and purse to Miss Aman, and then return so that we may begin reveling in the merriness and jollity of the surrounding festivities.”

[Firefoot]

Aman walked away shortly afterwards, and the conversation quickly resumed. Daisy directed her comment to Willow's question: "Who hasn't heard that tune?" Willow admitted it was well-known, and then she picked up her fiddle and played a lively tune. It was one of Lily's favorites, though she had never heard it played so well. Lily knew that she certainly couldn't play it so well and with such life. To Lily it seemed that the music came quite easily to Willow; she wished that she could play like that. Lily loved her fiddle more than just about anything, and enjoyed playing, but she had to work hard to get it right. Once she knew the song well it was easier, but she still had to think about it. Presently, the music stopped and Willow sat down.

"And do you know that one?" asked Willow. Lily thought for a moment before she answered. "Yes," she said. "I know the song. But I sure can't play it like that. Sometimes I have trouble with a part towards the end." She let the other three hobbits reply, and then she said, "Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I'm going to get my fiddle from my room." She got up from her seat and walked across the common room and up the stairs to her room.

"Now where did I put it?" she muttered. She had been in such a hurry to get down to the common room in the first place she had paid much attention to where she had put her things. Probably in a drawer somewhere, she figured. She went through the drawers and finally found it. She looked with pride on the fiddle for a moment. It wasn't the nicest one in the world, but it was it good condition and gleamed softly in the low light. They're probably wondering what's taking me so long, she thought smiling. I was only going to get my fiddle, afterall.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled, taking Lily's comments as a complement. Lily excused herself to go and get her fiddle too, as she didn't have it with her at the moment, seemingly.

And that was true enough. She had only just came in when she had walked over, and introduced her to Mira and Daisy. Willow noted that Daisy had seemed a bit more wary around Aman, seemingly. And she had enough right to be. Wilow remembered the first time she had met with one of the big people...

Being hobbits, and all, it was... well, different than talking to other hobbits, that was for sure.

How ever far the road draws on,
Long and cold, when you are gone.

In darkened forest I shall wait,
For when you pass the secret gate.

Our starlit eyes shall meet again

The words that Mira had whispered quietly before playing her flute came to her mouth unconsciously. But Willow continued the song, with her voice and violin softly singing as one.

...Our starlit eyes shall meet again,
Beyond the mist, and beyond the rain.

The day draws near when as before,
I shall pass through the hidden door.

The road goes on; leads to the seas,
And back again, through the trees.

And by that hidden path, all elves pass,
Down to the fair seas of silver glass.

We shall meet again someday,
And may that day show no delay

The tune that Willow had fit to it was slower; it came to her as her music did: from the heart, from within. None had heard it before, it had came to her mind as the words to the song came also.

She hoped that Mira wouldn't mind, and that her tune was simple enough that Lily, Daisy, and Mira could pick up on as well.

She picked up her violin once more, and played the tune that she had created for the song of Mira's.

[Mad Baggins]

Mirabell sat, chatting with the other hobbits. Aman came and went, and Lily left to go get her fiddle. Mira and Daisy chatted quietly, while Willow readied her fiddle to play it again. When she touched the strings with her bow and began to play, Mira recognized the tune as the one she had sung softly before. She sang it in her head, and when Willow was finished she smiled.

"That was lovely, Willow. I couldn't think of the words to finish it off, but you did a beautiful job," Mira told the hobbit, who blushed at the compliment. Continuing, she said, "And I was thinking; we should let Aman know that we are thinking of playing tonight. But I suppose we should agree on a song first? I agree with Lily; we should play some lively songs. Like that one you played a few moments ago. I enjoyed it. When Lily returns, we all should make a decision and tell Aman. I can't wait to play!"

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling accepted the parchment from Toby and, to prove to the elderly hobbit how trustworthy he’d been with the purse, withdrew that from his tunic and hefted it in his hand. “Very well my friend,” he began. “I shall do as you bid. But you are not the only one with a surprise in store this night – perhaps you shall see something surprising yourself before the evening is through.” Toby looked at the Man quizzically through his drink-soaked eyes but Snaveling said no more. He could already see himself resplendent in his new clothes and showing all the world the new man he had become.

He took one more careful sip from his glass before standing, albeit a little unsteadily. His emotional confrontation with the Innkeeper earlier had gone a long way to clearing his head, but the advancing night and the extra snifter (or had it been two?) of brandy had undone some of the good. He moved through the crowd, this time not avoiding the table where Roa and Galadel sat chatting amicably. As he passed them by he nodded courteously to Galadel’s friendly words of hello, and did not feel the sting of Roa’s look too deeply, for she was about to see a Man she’d not before. He just hoped that she would have a good view of what was about to happen with Aman, for he did not want to be forced to tell her of it later – that would seem too much like bragging.

He saw Aman moving about the Inn tending to the requests of a number of vociferous hobbit lasses who were exchanging songs. Their music had a happy feel and it made Snaveling think of home, and drew his mind thence to the golden image of his hunting lodge, so recently returned to him. He allowed himself the luxury of a moment behind his eyelids, wandering the halls of his lodge, wearing the new suit of clothes that he would buy this night.

When Aman next came close to him (this time, without a tray laden with food and drink) he touched her lightly on the shoulder and bowed deeply to her before speaking. “Mistress Aman,” he began, in as courtly a manner as he could, “I have been requested by my good friend, the inestimable hobbit Tobias Hornblower to present you with a small token of his appreciation for what you have done for us all in overseeing the restoration of the Green Dragon Inn!” He raised his voice somewhat at this, catching the attention of many who stood and sat nearby. They could tell that something Official was about to happen, and waited with breathless anticipation to see if it would entail more food and drink. “I would that I could match his gift with one of my own, but – alas! – I am but a poor Man with little but the clothes on his back.” A sudden thrill of panic moved through Snaveling as he said this: how was he going to explain the new suit of clothes? Worry about that later he told himself through the brandy. “Here is a small purse in which, I believe, he has handed over to the Inn a nice little sum. And here” he said, suddenly remembering, “is a letter that he wishes to accompany it!”

He handed both to Aman, who stood there rather overtaken by Snaveling’s manner.

[Firefoot]

Lily was just leaving her room with her fiddle when she heard more music coming up through the floorboards. She smiled, knowing Willow had taken up her fiddle again. She hurried downstairs, and the music ended just as she entered. She walked back across the common room, fiddle in hand, to where the other three were seated.

She took her fiddle and played a few scales, adjusting some of the strings so that it was correctly in tune. She hadn't played it since she left Bree a few days ago, and it felt good to be playing again. To warm up, she played a lively tune, simple and fairly common in Bree. One of my father's favorites, she realized with a start. She had never thought of it before, but she realized it was true. When she had been little, he had played it quite often. She cleared her head, and looked at the other hobbits. Before any of them could say anything, Aman came by with their drinks. They voiced their thanks and Aman went off again.

Mira spoke up. "Willow and I were saying that we should decide what we were going to play and tell Aman."

"Well, it seems as if we have found three songs that we all know. We could play those three, and see where we're at after that," Lily suggested. "The one I just played, do you know that one? It is quite common in Bree, but is it known in the Shire?"

[*Arwen*]

Tiruviel looked at the new comer with interest. Another Elf? very interesting. She indeed was very pretty.

"Thankyou. I was in need of company."

The Elf smiled. Tiruviel suddenly became very interested in her. After all, they were both elves.

"So, where are you from?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

After giving Kyria her meal and leaving her to it, Aman turned to the sound of another shout of "Innkeeper!" and went to see to the imminent request. But as she did so, she felt a light, purposeful touch on her shoulder and turned...to see a rather fine figure in front of her. Snaveling nodded courteously then began, with the all the splendour and drama of a courtier of Elessar.

"Mistress Aman," he began, like a ringleader. "I have been requested by my good friend, the inestimable hobbit Tobias Hornblower to present you with a small token of his appreciation for what you have done for us all in overseeing the restoration of the Green Dragon Inn! I would that I could match his gift with one of my own, but – alas! – I am but a poor Man with little but the clothes on his back. Here is a small purse in which, I believe, he has handed over to the Inn a nice little sum. And here" he added, withdrawing a piece of parchment from a pocket with an extra flourish, "is a letter that he wishes to accompany it!"

Aman took the gifts dumbly and looked over towards Tobias, who was beaming slightly in a sleepy, drunkenly good-humoured sort of way and smiled gratefully at the gentlehobbit. He returned this, then slipped importantly towards Ruby to order another drink. Aman unfolded the letter and scanned it...and despite all her usual capability to hide surprise, her eyebrows did jump a little as she saw the sum, for she had glimpsed the coins in the purse - not eleven silver, but eleven gold coins.

For lack of Tobias himself, Aman looked up at Snaveling. "Well, a fine sum indeed, Snaveling! Eleven gold coins..." Was that a spot of shiftiness she saw on the Man's face? She continued anyway. "A fine gift, and I ask that you thank Mr Hornblower again for me, as he appears to have absented himself," she smiled, scanning the crowd, spotting the hobbit coming towards them. Another entered through the Inn door and Aman looked over to see a hobbit-boy, who immediately started over to Snaveling. Aman raised her eyebrows as she recognised the boy.

"Pimpernel Brandybuck? I trust your father does not know of your being here," she said. The hobbit looked horrified and avoided her eyes, mumbling some excuses.

"Just wanted...not fair that...come on..." he looked up imploringly at the Innkeeper. "Miss Aman, I just wanted to see the party! You know, all the different...people," he finished carefully, catching up with himself just in time. Aman smiled, waving away the excuses.

"Ah, sure it's a party! I can't be expected to see every individual that comes through those doors..." she winked and lowered her voice. "I won't tell him if you don't."

Pimpernel beamed widely, thanking her, then turned to Snaveling. "Mr Snaveling, the tailor is here, in the stables where you asked him to wait."

Here Aman could not help but glance at Snaveling sharply, an almost inperceptible frown appearing on her brow. All you have, hmm? What about not being able to pay earlier... Aman remembered the gold coin she had seen earlier in Snaveling's possession, and wondered once more whether this was a satisfying explanation. Outwardly though, she smiled, if a little enquiringly. Nearby she could see Tobias approaching. "Ah - Tobias was generous to you as well, Snaveling?" she asked.

[Beruthiel]

Daisy flicked back her curly brown hair back behind her shoulders and, while she adjusted one of the pins holding the curls up, she scanned the room for the innkeeper. She was standing behind the bar and seemed to know that the hobbits were ready to perform. She was preparing for the the entertainment by getting out some more ale. Always a good way to prepare for anything in the Shire. The group of musicians had been joined by two elves, one of which was a flute player. This band was getting larger by the minute. Daisy was quite shocked by the two elves, mainly because she had no idea what to expect. She'd heard of elves being tall and beautiful but she'd majorly underestimated their beauty.

Both of the newcomers had commented on the hobbit lasses music and Daisy hadn't realised that people had been listening to them. The look in Lily's eyes suggested she felt the same way. She was quite please with herself and the group with the compliments but then a thought entered her mind.

"But wait, you haven't actually done anything yet have you?"

Daisy sighed to herself. It was the same sort of feeling she'd had just before she'd entered the inn earlier that night. Just when she thought she was getting people's attention, she realised it was only because of the talents of Willow and Lily that she'd been noticed at all. The little hobbit lass took a sip of her drink and swung her especially short legs under her chair.

She sat silently for a moment before realising how pathetic she looked, wallowing in self pity. Everything was happening so quickly she hadn't realised that she was getting quite tired. She managed a small smile at the elf sitting next to Lily with the flute and said a quiet 'Hello' to her.

"Dont worry Daisy," She thought, "Just wait till they see you dance..."

She hoped that she wouldn't regret wearing her sister's dress later, the one which was far too big for Daisy...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman regarded the man in the dimlight, her eyes bright even in the darkness of the cellar, trying to formulate the words for the thoughts she needed to express.

"You did not bring me here simply to help with the ale, did you my Lady." Snaveling spoke before Aman could. The Innkeeper remained silent for a moment more, then smiled thinly.

"You see more than you let on, Master Snaveling," she replied quietly.

"The same could be said for you, my Lady," came the quick reply. The Innkeeper gave a small, silent snort of laughter, looking away for a moment as she leant on her hands on the bannister, one side of her face illuminated by the light. When she looked back up at the Man, her gaze was very clear and direct, twin emeralds boring into Snaveling.

"Snaveling...I would like to think that all who pass through the Green Dragon are as honest as my day is long - and that's bloody honest," she added. "But...well, wouldn't that be a little naive. Like yourself I am of the race of men, although of a line less ancient than you, if what I have heard Roa say is correct." She was referring to the rumour that Snaveling was a Dark Numenorian, a rumour that she well knew that he himself had started. The Innkeeper allowed this a moment to settle in, then stood and continued. "And because of this, because of the things I have seen people do...I am not beyond believing, or hoping, that everyone can change. I wonder will my hope be rewarded?"

She let the sentence hang in the air, an abstract notion with a very direct point. Snaveling didn't reply, although he looked like he wanted to, but the fact that he held her gaze told the Innkeeper enough. Aman smiled and gave a small nod. He understood that she knew, and for the second time in one night she had chosen to ignore it in favour of the good side she believed in. Why, Aman couldn't have said, but nonetheless there it was. Standing again, the Innkeeper took the lantern from Snaveling and, standing up on her tiptoes slightly, she hung it on an ornate metal bracket about a foot above her head. Turning back, she motioned to the sturdy oak barrel Snaveling stood by.

"Come along then, there will be parched throats when the music begins," she said, briskly, rolling up her long sleeves.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa stared after the retreating backs of Aman and Snaveling. Why do I feel as though I've just been snubbed? It was rediculous of course, and she turned a questioning look on Toby. The hobbit squirmed and then, "Why, Roa, I have a great thrist. Would you care for a drink with me?" The Ranger sighed. It was clear that Toby would not reveal anything. The lie was obvious to Roa, and, she suspected, Aman.

"I believe you have had enough, Toby, but would you care to sit with Galadel and myself?" she asked with a smile. The hobbit considered this for a moment, and then agreed rather enthusiastically. Returning to the table, Roa noticed that Galadel had left. Toby seemed confused as well, but they soon head flute music and saw the their friend was thoroughly enjoying herself with music. Nodding to each other, Roa and Toby took their seats.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
She sat back in the chair with her arms crossing each other. Crystal had left to find Angry and Adu wasn't sure what to do now. The party was marvelous and all she could do was sit there and drink ale every chance she got. She looked around and noticed that Aman had disapeared. Adu was bored so she stood up and decided to see what she could do.

She discovered that Aman and the man called Snaveling was getting ready to serve drinks. "Miss Aman, would you like some help?" Adu knew that she was being straight forward but that was the way she was. She didn't want to set around and watch everyone else have fun. Adu wasn't use to celebrations. Usually if some thing good happened back under Dorian's command they would all be dismissed for the day. But that was long ago. She wondered how Hama was doing on his journey. It was lonely without him.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling hurried through the yard of the Green Dragon to the stables. He felt as a child did before a celebration, so excited was he by the thought of the new clothes that he would be purchasing. His brief conversation with Aman remained clear in his mind, but it was quickly moving into the background as he thought ahead to what was to come. He had been too terrified to speak with Roa after carrying up the barrel, even after her manner had made it clear that she was ready to accept him into her company again, if not to forgive him entirely. He wondered if Aman had chosen a barrel of ale consciously, to remind him that his crimes were not forgotten. The weight of the barrel lingered in his lean arms, but he shook them lightly to drive away the strain.

He paused before the door of the stable and took a deep breath of the night air to clear the last of the cobwebs from his mind. He was still light-headed from the drink, but so much had happened this night that the fog which had enveloped him earlier was all but gone.

Inside, Pimpernel was waiting for him with an extremely fat hobbit whom he introduced as Otho Bracegirdle. The tailor bowed to Snaveling deeply and immediately began pulling his wares from a small valise that he had brought. “I don’t often get requests for clothing from the Big Folk, but I do have some that might suit you nicely. Yes,” he said, evaluating, as he held up a bright tunic of red velvet, “this might be what you need.” Snaveling shook his head and glared at the hobbit darkly. Immediately, another tunic, this one a rich blue appeared, but Snaveling did not like the look of the tassels that adorned the shoulders so it too was soon replaced.

It took a while, for the valise at the hobbit’s side was remarkably full, but eventually Snaveling was satisfied with his new clothing. He quickly removed his rags and placed them gently on the straw of his stall – he was tempted, as a gesture, to throw them away, but he knew that the fortunes of those who dwelt in Middle-Earth were never so certain that one could toss away their old cloaks heedlessly. Mr. Bracegirdle helped him get dressed and spent a few minutes adjusting the cloth. It was a surprisingly good fit, requiring only a few stitches under the arms to tighten it up. As the fat tailor worked on his suit, Snaveling put Pimpernel to work coming out his long black hair with an iron comb that the Man borrowed from a nearby saddlebag. When they were finished Snaveling stood and looked at himself in the small mirror that the tailor had brought. It had been so long since he had seen himself in a mirror, or – for that matter – anyone in fine clothing that he hardly knew what to make of himself.

“Thank you Mr Bracegirle,” he said. “These clothes will do nicely. Now, I have no idea what this might cost so I will ask you to take what you require from the coin Pimpernel brought you, and to return the change to Mr Tobias Hornblower. Oh! Make sure that Pimpernel here gets one or two silver pennies as well.” Both hobbits, the young and the fat, bowed to him deeply and started into their extended hobbit thank you’s, but Snaveling was already out the door and heading to the Inn.

The moment he stepped into the light he knew that the transformation was as profound as any he could have hoped for. Those who knew him stared with open surprise, while those who did not assumed that there was a new arrival at the Inn. Several weeks at the Inn, and the company he had formed and kept there, had done much to improve his manner and bearing. Where before there had been a cringing sallow fellow, there now stood straight and tall a Man of the South; his face, previously bearded and cragged, was clean shaven and the lines of his face were no longer vicious but patrician and severe. He was much taller than any there remembered, but in truth, he had merely found the strength to stand upright. His dark eyes flashed with glee, but there remained in their depths a hardness unassailable and inviolate. He was a dangerous Man still, but no longer in a petty and mean way. His new clothes were of dark material, richly woven. They were simply cut and made, as were all the clothes of the Shire, but they were worthy of a powerful lord, and indeed he did not seem out of place in them. On his chest, glittering in the light of the party and bright against the black of his tunic, was his amulet, freshly polished.

Snaveling recoiled somewhat from the stares of those who turned to look at him, but his eyes sought out the table where Toby and Roa sat. Both of them were looking at him in amazement. As he strode toward them he caught Aman’s eye from across the room and saw something in her expression that was at once unreadable and thrilling. He could hear Galadel’s golden voice somewhere in the Inn. He stepped up to where Roa and Toby sat and looked down at them. “Tobias, Roa – might I join you?”