The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Firefoot]

"Thank you. What you have said is everything I would have hoped for," said Lily. "And I think you are right about waiting a while. We have plenty of time." Lily was absolutely blissful. To think that he would love her too...! She gazed over at Posco. She wanted to kiss him, though she knew it would be better in the end if they went slow, and more pertinent at the moment was the fact that they were sitting on separate branches. Patience, again. She reckoned she would be the most patient hobbit in Middle-earth before all this was done with. Well, maybe not quite, she admitted.

"There is at least one big difference between us and your parents, though," said Lily seriously. It was not a pleasant prospect she was bringing up, but it had to be discussed. "We live many leagues apart. I will have to return to Bree eventually, until we were to get married, if that is the way things are to come. What will we do then?"

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Ginger, ma’am. Ginger Gamwich. From Bywater. My Ma’s sent me down to help Miz Bunce for the week. Lots of things to be done for the big party. And like my Ma always says – Many hands make light work.’

The Hobbit took a gulp of her tea to wet her now dry throat. My goodness! Here I am talking to one of the Fair Folk! she thought sneaking a look at the Elf’s face. I wonder if I should call her ma’am? Truth be told she looks hardly older than me. But didn’t Da say they lived a long, long time and didn’t age like us other folk do? Ginger pushed back the stray red curls from her face and twitched her little freckled nose as she thought.

Curiosity overcame her. The Elf looked a little lonely, she thought, as she watched her sip her tea. ‘Pardon my asking, ma’am . . . and you can tell me to mind my own business if you want to . . . but what’s a young one like you doing so far from home? Are you heading to the Havens, like my Da told me about? Or are you meeting someone here?’ Ginger’s romantic inclinations had grabbed hold of her imagination – perhaps some handsome Elf lord was looking for her and would carry her away on some great horse . . . She sighed dreamily, and reined in her fantasy as she looked over at the Elf again.

‘Or maybe you’re here for the handfasting. Is that it? Do you know Mister Derufin and his lady. Have you come to help?’

She looked down at her hands and sighed. They were grubby, despite her washing of them, from her work in the garden. Embarrassed, she folded them in her lap. The Elf’s hands she noted were lovely, the fingers long and tapered. No garden dirt clung to the fingernails.

‘I’m nattering on too much, aren’t I?’ she said in a low voice, her cheeks a little red from the realization. ‘One of my many faults, or so my Ma says.’ She took another sip of her tea as she collected her wits about her, then smiled at Gwenneth. ‘I’ll be quiet for a bit, I promise. Go on now – you talk, and tell me about yourself.’

[starkat]

Gwenneth listened as Ginger spoke. When her companion paused, the elf smiled. "First, please call me Gwenneth." Gwenneth became shy , "I actually come from my family's home near the Havens. I am traveling for awhile. The Shire is my first stop. I have only been here for a few days."

She noticed Ginger's dreamy look. "I am afraid that I am not meeting anyone, but the people I have met here at the inn have been wonderful. I have learned much through my conversations." Gwenneth pushed a loose strand of black hair back behind her ear. "Tell me more about the handfasting? Is that what you called it? Derufin is the stable master correct? I have a mare in the stables. I have seen him work with the horses. He seems nice."

The elf maid looked down at the table for a moment, slightly embarresed at all of her questions. "I would love to pitch in and help with this handfasting if I could. May I?"

[Lalwendë]

Jinniver worked steadily at clearing the first of the borders all through the morning. She had made it her aim to finish weeding the borders and making them ready by the time evening came. With a little luck, the plants should arrive next day, and she was eager to make sure the borders were tilled and free of unsightly weeds. The work was doing her good, as she thought it might; she thought of little but the task at hand and whistled an aimless tune as she laboured.

As the morning went by, she found several little rose bushes which had been choked by the nettles and docks. She felt sure that even as she cleared the weeds away from them they began to stretch their heads up towards the sun; there were buds on some of them and she breathed in the faint but already heady scent hungrily. Jinniver had also uncovered some small foxglove seedlings, and transplanted them to the centre of the border where they would soon make a fine, tall centrepiece to the display as they grew taller.

Most of the border was now free of weeds, and just the few roses and foxglove seedlings remained. Jinniver decided to take a rest before she started to hoe the soil. Looking at her hands, she noticed they were covered in the black soil of The Shire and before she stopped to wipe them, she put her fingers up to her face and breathed in the scent of the earth. It was a rich and moist smell which she found comforting and she stood for a few minutes just breathing it in until she heard one of the hobbit lads in the cottage snorting with laughter. Turning around to see what the mirth was about, she saw he had been laughing at her strange behaviour and her face flushed red, all apart from the smut of black soil which remained on the tip of her nose.

The hobbit ducked back down from the window, equally embarrassed, and Jinniver scuttled off to the side of the inn where she sat down to smoke her pipe, unaware of the dirt on her nose and the twigs in her hair.

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Handfasting is a Shire custom . . . Gwenneth.’ Ginger stumbled over the name slightly, hardly daring to believe she was talking to one of the Fair Folk. ‘I’m sure in other parts they’ve grander names, as my Gammer would say, for it. But it’s just a little ceremony where a man and woman give a pledge to each other to stick together . . . husband and goody-wife. Thick and thin and all that sort. And of course there’ll be babies coming along. Nice, chubby cheeked little ones to fill up the house.’ Gwenneth’s pretty brow was puckered a bit and she asked why did they call it ‘handfasting’.

‘Well, now, that’s the ceremony part, isn’t it,’ said Ginger, thinking about the word. ‘You see, their names get put down in the big book where all that gets recorded. But at the ceremony, the person who the couple’s asked to do their handfasting, well he or she comes forth once they make their pledges in front of the big crowd that’ll be gathered and ties their clasped hands together at the wrists . . . binds them together like . . . and they keep ‘em that way til they’ve danced the first dance together. Then the couple gets drinks raised to their new life and the party begins.’ Ginger’s eyes lit up at the prospect of the party as she explained it to Gwenneth. Music and food, drinks and dancing . . . and little lanterns lit in the trees when the sun goes down.

‘There’s lots to be done still,’ she told the Elf. ‘That’s why all us lasses have been sent to help.’ She eyed Gwenneth wondering what sort of work the Fair Folk do. ‘I’m helping out in the garden right now . . . still got the flower beds around the front porch of the Inn to do. That’s where we’ll have the party. Out there under the trees with tables all set up and a little band playing on the porch. It’s all got to look pretty. You could help me with that if you’ve a hand that’s good with flowers and such. Or . . . later on I’m going in to help Cook work on cookies and sweets for the party. Do you want to help there? What sorts of goodies do the Elves have when they are wedded . . . could you make some for Mister Derufin and his lady?’

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu looked about the room. The silence was beginning to disturb him, Cree sat there staring into her mug. She seemed to be collecting her thoughts, although she seemed to be sad.

"Fáinu, you may think this an unexpected turn of fate," She said, "To me it is more so. I had only recently given up hope that you would be yet alive. Elrond said he did not think you were dead, but then other said that they had heard of the death of one named ifáinumen. I later found this to be a name carried by you. So, how much of a surprise do you think it is for me?"

Fáinu did not quite know how to react to this. Cree seemed to have yet another tear in her eye, she did not seemed to have been happy since she had found him. Fáinu tried to explain why she might have heard of his death.

"IFáinumen, the released one, is the name I took when I lodged with my brothers," he said, "When they threw me out one shot an arrow at me. I was hit in the shoulder from behind. I recovered; they perhaps thought I was dead. Or wished it. They were truly wicked. It seems their lies have done more harm than I thought."

He smiled at her and wiped her tears away with his handkerchief. He wished not for her to be saddened. He knew that since he departed form her, he had had brought hurt upon her. He wished to heal it, but knew he would only bring more in his attempts.

"Do not weep, Cree," he said once again," Thou hast shed more tears than are due. Be glad that thou hast found me alive, and not fallen into despair."

[Arry]

‘Ferrin Muddyfoot!’

Derufin could hear the exasperation in the voice of Andwise. He moved to the edge of the roof to see what was happening. There was the older Hobbit, hands on hips, shaking his head at one of the lads. The others, Derufin could see, had gathered at a distance intending to chide their companion. Their words and mocking laughs and hoots died on their lips as Andwise threw them all a withering look.

‘Bad enough one of you,’ he said looking directly at Ferrin, then swiveling his head to take in Tomlin, Gil, and Fallon, ‘bad enough one of you has to show his poor manners to a newcomer to Bywater and a guest at the Inn. And one who’s volunteered from the goodness of her heart to help out.’ He tsk’d, in that certain way that parents have. ‘Now, Ferrin, I know your Ma will not be wanting to hear how you were rude to a guest at the Inn. And her a gardener herself. Sure touch with the hedge roses, your Ma.’ There was a slight cough as a snicker was cut off. ‘And you lads, you’ll be wanting to support your mate in this, I’m certain.’ He motioned them all to draw up nearer, then pointed to where Jinniver had gone to gather herself together and smoke a pipeful. ‘You’ll be wanting to tell her you meant no harm, I’m sure,’ he said with a considering look at Ferrin. ‘And you lot can go with him. You're almost done with the main part of your work on the extra room for the cottage, I can see. How about you ask if she’ll be needing any little fences or borders or window boxes built? Be glad to do that, won’t you?’

He nodded up to where Derufin looked on the little scene with interest. ‘Time’s wasting to get all these projects done. You lads go over and mend fences, so to speak with Mistress Jinniver. Almost time for second breakfasts, too, I think. See if you can help Mistress Buttercup with bringing over the basket of food and drinks once you’re done.’ The lads faces lit up in anticipation of this task.

Andwise watched the four walk slowly over to where Jinniver sat. Noting how the three pushed Ferrin forward first and then gathered in around her their hands gesturing toward the cottage, and her looking up to answer them. Good lads! he thought to himself, nodding his head affectionately at the little scene. I wonder how my Ferdy’s doing?

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention and he turned to see Derufin . . .

[Envinyatar]

Derufin gave Andwise a clap on the back, smiling widely as he nodded toward where the four Hobbit lads could now be seen speaking with Jinniver. ‘Nicely done!’ he said. ‘I’ll have to stow that in my cap for when my sons act up a little bigger than their britches.’ Andwise looked up at him, a questioning look on his face. ‘When we have our sons, that is,’ Derufin said winking.

‘And what might be happening if all those sons you’re dreaming up turn out to be daughters, laddie?’ inquired the Hobbit, a grin on his face. ‘Tis not up to you, you know. It’s pot luck as far as that all goes!’

Laughter welled up from the man. ‘Oh, I think then my sweet Zimzi will have to take a firm hand with the girls if it’s needed. I’m afraid their Da will be silly as a goose around them, and think they can do no wrong.’

Andwise joined in the laughter. ‘Led by the nose, eh? With their dimpled smiles and big eyes . . . you think you’ll be lost, eh?’

Derufin’s face clouded for a moment, his grey eyes darkening. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Lost for certain.’

Andwise made no comment on this brief change in mood, instead he drew the man over to where he was working on the front door for the cottage. ‘What do you think of this, Derufin? I’ve just finished sketching out most of it, but I needed to ask a question or two before I finish it.’

Around the border of the oak door were drawn small, twining vines of ivy with sprigs of holly interspersed throughout. ‘Faithfulness, friendship, and happiness round the door to your house,’ the Hobbit said. Andwise traced his finger round the seashell with the smaller engraving of a five pointed star on it. It was drawn just slightly off center to the middle of the door. ‘Now Cook’s told me Mistress Zimzi’s from up north, by the sea, and she said she had it on good authority that her family traced itself back to those sailors who fled east when the Star Isle fell.’ Derufin nodded, saying it was so. ‘Her name is one of the old ones from that place,’ he confided to the Hobbit. ‘It’s Zimziran. Beloved Jewel, her mother told me.’

‘But what about you, Master Derufin? There’s not much known about you before you set foot here in Bywater. I heard when you were a much younger man, you fought for the King in the War. But beyond that . . . well you’re a fair cipher.’ Andwise pointed to the blank space next to the star. ‘What shall I put here . . . for you?’

Derufin was taken aback at the question, and sat down on an upturned bucket for a moment to think it over. There was one he’d told his whole story to, but she was far gone. The war, the good friends and neighbors he’d marched off with in youthful abandon . . . the little band who’d come back . . . and they to losses of their own. Derufin’s young wife and little toddling daughter killed by Orcs just before the brave few of Ringlo Vale had returned home. His son, born when he was away, dead, too . . . and only the charred foundations of their little house remaining, where the valley winds sifted through the ashes at night leaving only the fired bones. He could look at it now, after all these years, without a great feeling of empty despair threatening to undo him.

With a gesture toward a nearby bench, Derufin bade Andwise sit with him a moment. And with an economy of words, he spoke of where he’d come from and what had happened. ‘I’ve laid that part of my life aside. Worried it to the marrow for a long time,’ he spoke low, ‘and now I’ve made my peace with it.’ Derufin shook his head as he gazed to where the door lay on the trestles, waiting only to be finished. ‘I cannot think what you might put for me. But it cannot be that place from where I came. That sad, lost man’s gone, and I’ve come through to be here . . . right here. And my Zimzi at my side.’

[Nurumaiel]

'Why, Lily,' said Posco, rather surprised at her question, 'there will be nothing for you to do but come home with me, if we get married. What else could you do?'

'But what about the meantime? How will we see each other?'

'Oh,' said Posco, and he put his back to the trunk of the tree and gazed thoughtfully down at her. A soft breeze rustled the leaves and the tree branches gently rose and full, brushing against her face and catching her hair. The bright sun made her cheeks rosy, and the quavering shadows of the leaves danced over her features. Her eyes were sparkling with joy, and her red lips were turned up in a smile. Posco leaned forward, and said, 'Lily, I have something: when you leave you can come to my home for a time to visit, so my parents can meet you and all those necessary things. My mother would delight in taking care of you, and you would love my home. It has trees, and hills, and the Brandywine isn't far away at all. When nighttime comes you hear the crickets chirping, and then a fiddle will be taken out and we dance by the fire, and late in the night everyone goes a-bed. When morning comes each and every bird sings, and we go down to the Brandywine to fish, or just to sit amid the wildflowers and watch the water flow by. Oh, Lily, you'd love it so very much.'

[Lalwendë]

The hobbit lads came over slowly with uncertain steps and Jinniver too felt a little foolish and pretended to be busy fixing an imaginary chip in her pipe at first. The lads pushed Ferrin forwards and he coughed so that she had to look up. Her face was still red, if not even more so. But the lads were kind enough not to comment on the unseen soil smudged on her nose.

“We um…we come to ask you if there’s anything you need doing like. Um, you know, anything that needs building or fixing for the garden?” Ferrin stumbled over his words and gave Jinniver a hopeful smile.

She felt relief, and out of the corner of her eye, she spied Andwise on the roof, watching. “He must have got them to make amends,” she thought to herself, which made her a little more nervous. She wasn’t sure what to say about the offer, and had to think for a moment if there was anything she needed doing. “I wouldn’t mind if you could get me some old logs and make a border,” she asked Ferrin, who looked a little confused “How do you mean, miss? You’ll have to show me what you want by that.”

Jinniver stood up and walked to the borders and the hobbit lads followed her, apart from one, who had gone to help fetch the second breakfast. The smell of freshly brewed tea and warm scones wafted all the way across from the kitchen as he opened the door, and several stomachs, large and small, rumbled all at once.

The border she had worked on that morning was now clear of weeds, but the raw edges met the grass and Jinniver could see it would benefit from being made neat and tidy, at least until the plants she was going to put in were more mature. She had an idea for an edging made from old logs cut into short pieces; each small segment would be cut in half, and then they would be laid along the border, making a scalloped edge. This would, she thought, give the flower beds a neat shape, and the plants could trail around and over the logs as time went on.

She explained her idea to Ferrin and his pals, who stuck out their bottom lips and nodded in agreement. It was not a big job at all, the only snag was where they would find some old logs.

“ I’ve found just the thing, if you can help me”, said Jinniver, moving to the back of one of the borders where a tree stump laid half-covered by earth. “It’s long dead, and the roots go down a long way. They’ll provide some useful timber for this, I’m sure.”

Ferrin shook his head “But how are we going to get that great brute out of the ground? It’s stuck fast as far as I can see. Been there a long time and it doesn’t look like it wants to go anywhere now”.

Jinniver had thought of this. “I can get my horse and harness him to the stump, and he can pull it out, he’s strong. Only thing is, I would need some help. Either to make sure the rope stays on while I’m doing it, or to guide Nutkin, to guide my horse. I can’t do both at once, you see.”

The hobbits all nodded when they saw how it could be done. “Let’s try right now! And then for some tea and cake,” said Ferrin, heading towards the paddock.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume had been absent from the Shire for some time now yet it's paths felt so familiar under his feet, he could walk it's lands in the darkest of nights and find his way back to the Green Dragon's warmth without hesitation. With the inn in his sights up ahead, Soronume questionned as to why he decided to leave the place that always welcomed him with open arms at all.

Stones shifted under his boots as he trod, creating that unique sound that only ever presented itself when you knew you weren't far from resting, at least, that was the only time at which Soronume noticed it. He turned to see his path behind. Not prints in the ground as they weren't disernable as definate markings, more just disturbed earth where he had walked. He smiled. It was nice to be back in familiar surroundings.

As usual, Soronume stopped short of the Inn. His appearance was never as it should be for such a fine place, but this time it was further from acceptable than it should have been. His dark tunic was soiled, but a light dusting improved that to some degree, which was more than could be done about the state of his cloak. Tears were perhaps more common place on it than the fibres it was originally woven from. It's green colour almost disguised entirely behind various other stains which had accumulated during his travels. His boots alone showing the distance he had covered of late.

Under his hood, Soronume's piercing grey eyes could clearly be seen, and wisps of dark hair fell about his face from the hood that cast many of his features into shadow. His face though was not a unwelcoming one, his smile was full of warmth even though his expressions may be troubled. He smiled to himself again as he made way to the door. Pushing it aside he stepped into the inn, bowing his head slightly as he passed through.

Only a few heads turned around the inn at his entrance and even they promptly went back to their own business. Soronume headed towards the bar in the hope of something to quench his thirst and a friendly face for company...

[Firefoot]

Lily listened raptly to Posco's brief discription of his home. In many ways it was very different from Bree, and they appealed to her. In town, it was fairly noisy, and there were people all over the place, both Big and Little. Instead of crickets, nighttime noises consisted of shouts in the street or the clip-clop of hooves on the stone roads.

"Your home sounds lovely," said Lily. "Please, tell me more about it." She looked up into his eyes and saw a reflection of her own feelings therein: peace and happiness, and love. The things that she had always treasured most, those simple things, and she found them here with Posco. Hearing about his farm made her enjoy the Shire even more, and she knew that she would love making it her home with Posco when that time would come.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree couldn't believe it, she finally had what she wanted. "Fáinu, I have spent many years searching for you. I knew that you couldn't be dead. There was a feeling in my heart telling me you was alive. After the death of my father and your mysterious dissapearance I felt alone. I didn't know what else to do. So I wandered around Middle Earth looking for you or the missing piece of my puzzle."

Cree figured that Fáinu wasn't going to leave her again. Without any warning Cree's eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her eyelids closed and her body went limp. Cree knew waht was happening, her episodes were back to normal. Despite her appearance of being dead Cree could still hear Fáinu.

Avalon turned to look at the male elf beside her. The crows eyes told everything. No matter how hard she tried, Avalon knew Fáinu couldn't understand her. Staring into his eyes she suddenly saw a glimmer of hope.

Fáinu, this is your friend's curse. For Cree there is no escape. No one can save her. She ahs her actual parents to thank for that. You must be there for her in this her time of need. Even I dont' know if this spell she will survive.

Avalon hopped over to the pack Cree carried. With her beak, Avalon pulled out a piece of parchment. The white crow began unravelling the piece of writing covered parchment. Out of all the symbols the only word taht could be made out was his own name, Fáinu.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu looked at the parchment, he recognised his own name and none of the other words. He realised it was written in enchain Quenya, sudenly he remembered something Elrond had said. When he first returned to Rivendell after the incident with Smaug, before he even opened his mouth, Elrond chanted these words;

i fáinu men, falócë rohta, elyë inde firin. Umbar valin elin mén. Utú i quácocolindo! Utú i quácocolindo!

The released one, cursed by the dragon. Fate smiles upon thee. Find the crow bearer! Find the crow bearer!

Now it seemed to all make sense. Cree was the crow bearer. He saw her, she looked to be asleep. He shook her and she did nought. He called to her and her eyes opened a little, she smiled and fell back to sleep. He had seen others fall into a trance of this sort before. He remembered how he had woken a friend the last time.

He drew Falokrist from its sheath and the blade rang. A few hobbits looked over in curiosity.

"Forgive me Cree," he took the blade and made a small cut on her hand. Instantly she leaped up, dew a blade and swung it. Luckily, Fáinu stopped her sword with his. She then dropped her blade to the ground and sat back down. Fáinu sheathed his sword and held Cree's hand.

"What happened to you?" he asked, "Where did you get this parchment? What-" he stopped and looked her in the eyes. Avalon flew up and landed upon Cree's shoulder holding a bandage from Cree's pack. Fáinu rapped it about her hand and looked her in the eyes.

[Firefoot]

"I cannot wait to see it," said Lily. It did sound beautiful. Beautiful... like the flowers in her hair. She did not know why she thought of it then, but it brought another idea to mind. She paused, and continued.

"I do not know how long you will be staying at your aunt's house, but this morning I was thinking. Soon, I will need to be going home. Tomorrow morning, maybe. When I do leave, I am not sure how soon I will be able to return to the Shire to visit you. I will try to send word, but it might not be possible. I will think of you though." She reached up subconsciously and touched the wreath of blossoms about her head. "I will keep these flowers forever, I think-" This said with a slight blush. "-and I thank you for them. In return, I would give you this." She undid the knot of the leather string around her neck, unnoticed for she wore it close to her skin. On it was strung a small golden stone. She was unable to think of anything else that she might give him, though the stone seemed somehow fitting. She was not exactly sure what she thought he would do it, but she hoped he might treasure it. "I was given it, when I was younger. Always I have worn it, but now I ask you to take it." She held it out for him to take, looking at him somewhat expectantly.

[Arry]

Andwise put down his mug and stood up as Ferdy called out to him. ‘Son!’ he said smiling as he walked over to see what the lad needed. ‘I thought you were working on those little projects Cook had lined up.’ The smile faded from his face. ‘What’s the problem, son?’

Ferdy was about to answer when Cook came wheezing up the little path toward them. She’d hiked her skirts up to free her legs for moving fast and the dust was flying from each stride. ‘Whoa up there, Ferdy Banks,’ she gasped, her hand on her heaving chest. Andwise walked toward her and put his hand on her elbow, guiding her over to the patch of shade beneath the tree. Jinniver offered the woman a mug of cold cider as Derufin made room for her on the blanket they’d spread out on the ground. Tomlin, Ferrin, Fallon, and Gil, sitting a ways away, looked on in interest wondering what had gone on to put Cook in such a state.

‘Now Miz Banks,’ said Andwise once he’d seen her set down the mug and push back the untidy hair that had fallen about her face. She held up her hand, looking as if she wanted to speak first. An odd series of wheezy sounds, though, burbled out from Cook’s lips. Her shoulders heaved, and she shook her head.

‘Are you alright?’ Derufin asked, crouching alongside the Hobbit, his hand on her shoulder . . .

[Nurumaiel]

A queer choking rose in Posco's throat. Tomorrow morning! He had thought she would stay for at least a week. How could it be that she was leaving so soon? He drew his sleeve across his eyes so she would not see the tear that sprang to them, and then he closed his hands over the stone, taking her own little hands at the same time. He contemplated kissing them for a moment, but he decided it was too bold, so he just fixed his eyes on her and said: "Lily, I will take it, and I will treasure it all my life, to my dying day. I wish that I had as much to give you."

"Why, Posco!" she said. "You have given me these flowers. Would you have me ask for more?"

"Flowers are sweet and beautiful," said Posco, "but soon they'll be faded. I want to give you something that will last forever, as my affections for you, for that love will never wither."

[Firefoot]

Lily felt her breath catch in her throat. Softly she said, "Posco, your love is all I could ever want from you. For the stone, the flowers, in and of themselves they mean nothing. It is the meaning behind them, the feelings of their givers, that make them worth something, and in the end, things such as these will not matter. It is the love that matters." He had her hands in his, and though his hands somewhat rough from hard work, his touch was gentle. She knew what he had said earlier about going slow, but she could not help it. She leaned over and kissed him on his cheek.

"I regret that I must leave so soon," Lily said. "But I will return to you, Posco. As soon as I may, I will come back." Her face shone, and she could feel the warmth of love bubbling up inside of her. She wanted to kiss him again, but this time she held back; he wanted to wait a while, and she respected that. The time would come soon enough.

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Well, then, come with me,’ smiled Ginger finishing up the last bit of her sticky-bun and swallowing the final gulp of tea. ‘I’ll start you out on flowers that grow along the front verandah of the inn. Mostly they need a little weeding and watering, and of course you’ll want to pinch off the dead blossoms.’ Gwenneth nodded her head in understanding. ‘Now I’ll be working on those climbing roses that grow up the trellises on each end of the verandah,’ Ginger went on.

As Gwenneth finished the last of her little meal, Ginger ran to fetch an apron and a small basket from the kitchen. ‘Here,’ she said, handing the full-length apron to Gwenneth, ‘this will keep some of the dirt off your clothes.’ She placed the basket on the table, waiting for the Elf to finish tying the apron’s strings round her. ‘Let’s go out to the little garden shed in back, by the main garden. We’ll fetch you some gloves and flower snips to use out front. And it might be nice if we made a bouquet for Miz Aman. She’s been awfully busy seeing to things. Do her good to have something pretty to look at and sniff, don’t you think?’

She motioned for Gwenneth to follow her.

[starkat]

Gwenneth followed behind Ginger. Happy to have something to do, she followed the hobbit to the gardening shed. Ginger gave her a pair of blue gloves and a small pair of snips and they headed for the main garden. The young elf maid came to a stop.

"What's the matter?"

"I had yet to see this garden. It is lovely. The flowers are wonderful!"

Ginger merely smiled. "Why don't you start on the flowers for Miz Aman?"

Gwenneth nodded and began looking through the flowers. Being outside amongst flowers, the elf felt her lonlieness fade completely. A thought struck her and she began to create not one but two boquets.