The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[THE Ka]

Rasputina was sitting on the lawn when two of the hobbit musicians - Owen and Seamus came over and sat beside her. She could sense that Seamus was tense about something, but what?

As they seated themselves, Seamus stroke up a conversation to make an apperiance that seemed to cloak his tension. Then, without apparent notice, Seamus pulled an object out of his hand and let it fall into her palm. What lay there was the answer to a question of guilt. It seemed as the sun glint off the broach, it seem to dispell the darkness that she placed on herself.

Although it was returned - the gift was back - a slight suspicion arose. How did he get this? Where? Seamus had been out before she left her room that morning but... How? Suddenly, as if a fleeting messenger on wings, an idea or suggestion came into her mind. Was it his pet monkey? She had had an inccident with this creature earlier, whom had taken a liking to her hat. She did not know the mind of this creature, and she wondered how it could have unlucked her door, and known how exactly to open her box. Her box wasn't a simple device to open, and did cause some frustration with Rasputina, especially when she was in a hurry. The box took much patience, and consentraition to open properly. This was because of its mechanical makings. It was made to be difficult - for any one. You had to count the number of turns as a sequence of clicks emitted by the internals, and after counting them carefully you would have to put pressure at certain areas of the keylocks face.

If that monkey had opened it ( Raspurtina wondered how in Arda it had ), it would had had to listen sometime in on her to find the number of clicks. How thick were those walls? Then it struck her - What if the monkey had slipped in? She would have sensed it right away but, she was so jittered and confused that morning that a herd of cows could have stampeeded by...

Placing the words carefully, she asked Seamus about this speculation. Seamus was startled and jumped alittle. He soon regain some courage and replied that he was thinking the same thing as well, and it could have happened. Apparently, from what she soon learned about this creature, this monkey was clever as ever and curious as well.

"Great", she thought, then he must had found a way to open that box! But, how? That would have to wait until further inspection. She thanked Seamus greatly, and Owen as well, for their recovery of the gift. She felt they needed a reward but, what did she have to give? There had to be something in her Trunk or something else that was hiding (hopefully still) in her box.

[Nurumaiel]

Marigold sat in the grass, taking bites of her cake in between her adoring glances at Zimzi. What a kind, beautiful, sweet, lovely bride she was! If the perfect truth must be told, Marigold had felt a twinge of disappointment when she saw who was to be married. She had expected some blushing hobbit lass, but there was a tall Big Folk woman instead. The disappointment had been diminished somewhat when she had realised what a pretty woman she was, and it was banished to dark depths of nothingness when she was taken into those slender arms and comforted in those tender tones. Marigold smiled. Miss Zimzi was sweet, sweet, sweet! Never had anyone been so affectionate to her since her mother clasped her and kissed her for the last time.

But...

Marigold recalled something else that had happened in those few moments when the world seemed at an end because of the ruined cake and spattered dress. She had called that tall one who caused all the trouble an 'awful Man.' She blushed at the recollection. If only she had merely thought it. That wouldn't have been so bad. It was humiliating to have said it so everyone could hear, and... they had laughed. She blushed deeper. Oh, thank goodness Zimzi had come and comforted her. Marigold was firmly convinced she would have died of shame and sorrow if it hadn't happened so.

She would have to apologise to that Man, she supposed. Of course, by all rights, he should apologise to her because he had ruined her cake and spattered icing on her dress (were all Big Folk so clumsy?). But she had called him awful, right out loud. Why, oh why, couldn't she have just thought it? Then everything would be all right. The guilt would be all on his side. But she had opened her mouth, and she would have to open it again in apology. She could see him from the corner of her eye. Well, she couldn't apologise yet. She had to finish her cake, and wait until he wasn't busy talking to someone else. Maybe he would always be busy. Frankly, she didn't want to apologise. Why should she? She had called him awful because he was awful. She hadn't done anything very wrong.

Well, that was easily solved. She wouldn't seek him out to apologise. She would only apologise (very casually, as if it didn't matter) if she ran into him again. Not that that could possibly happen. He would be the one to run into her, so clumsy was he. He would probably run over her, he was that clumsy. Why had she called him awful? He was clumsy, clumsy, clumsy.

Marigold giggled a little. He had looked funny with the cake all over him. His tunic had been spattered worse than her pretty skirt. And she mustn't call him clumsy anymore. It might make her mean-minded and depressing like Mr. Headstrong.

As if that could ever happen!

[littlemanpoet]

Zimzi put her arms about the Uien, startling her a bit as she gave her a hug. "They’re lovely gifts . . . the both of you . . . thank you," Zimzi said letting go of Uien and taking Falowik’s hand to give it a squeeze.

Derufin reached out his hand to clasp Falowik’s, intending to say thanks when a gleam against the man’s shirt caught his eye. "Aah! You have one, too . . ."

"Aye," Falowik smiled. "I-" he paused, blushing "-hope we did not overreach-" he glanced at Uien. "My Lady insisted that you would not mind."

Derufin's eyebrows rose at the strange response from Falowik. "Mind? Hardly!"

Falowik smiled. "That is because you do not yet know the virtues of the gifts. My part was merely to braid the five strands of leather for each necklace. Five strands give greater strength than three, you see, while not over large."

"Virtues?" Zimzi asked, holding the clear gleaming stone in her hand.

Uien smiled. "Look in the orb. The light within has formed the runes of your name, Zimzi. See you the áze nuquerna?"

"Oh! I see!"

"Now think upon your mate." Zimzi's eyes widened as the runes changed their shape. "The ando, for Derufin," Uien said.

"It warms in my hand as it changes!" Zimzi cried.

"And Derufin," Uien said, "look upon yours."

"I see it, the ... áze nu-" he paused in confusion.

"The áze nuquerna, for Zimzi. She thinks of you, and so her rune appears in your orb. Now look upon mine, Derufin. What do you see?"

"The ando."

"Now look upon yours again," Uien grinned.

"Why, it is different! What rune is this?"

"The úre, after my name," Uien said, "for you are thinking of me. When you think of Falowik, the formen will appear."

"Yes! I see it!" cried Zimzi. "These are wonderful! But ... how?"

"'Tis the art of my kindred," Uien said, "helped by the gift of your hair. 'Twas needed to aid the linkage between us. One hair from my head, and one from Falowik's are in your necklaces, and four each from your own heads. You wear twins, as do Falowik and I. But all four are sisters."

"What do you call the gem?" asked Zimzi with eyes alight.

"They are called Tinumir in my speech, the Sindarin of the Elves, which in the Common tongue means 'star jewel'."

"The orbs," said Falowik, "hold starlight that Uien has caught in them by the art of her folk, and she embedded the strands of hair in the leather. I watched her do it, and still do not know how it was done!"

"These are rare gifts!" Zimzi said.

"Let them become heirlooms among your many children," Uien smiled. When you are far from us and we think of you, you will know that we think of you, and when it warms against your heart, you will know that you are thought of. As will we."

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Owen’s brain ground to a halt as Rasputina mentioned that the brooch Shimshin had taken had lain in a box of some sort. And a locked box at that. Surely the dear little monkey’s escapade purely on impluse! In the few months Owen had known him, Shimshin had never been know to scheme so. Owen felt crushed.

“Oh Miss,” he blurted out, snatching his cap from off his head, squashing it and the bladder pipe together with a muffled crinkling. “Thank you for taking this so well! And try not to think too badly of the little fellow. He is clever, but has a heart of gold, he does. He’d never take nothing if he thought it would hurt someone. It’s just a bit of fun for him, and his mind runs too quick, just as those small feet of his. That is my friend Seamus and my trouble, you see? But no harm done now, is there!”

Rasputina smiled benevolently at the nervous man. “No harm done, but maybe I should meet this Shimshin again so that I might advise him not to seek after such ornaments.”

“The counsel of elves is as good as gold, they say,” Seamus said, trying to smooth things over before Owen said too much. “Now if we can only convince the monkey of it!”

“If you’ll forgive me for saying it,” Owen continued with his train of thought. “I can understand him running off with your jewelry – he’s an eye on anything as sparkles. In fact, he’s a right magpie that one! But it’s the box as has me stumped, unless of course it was shiny too. He never done that a fore. Are you quite sure Miss, that no one else could have removed it?”

Rasputina fixed him with a thoughtful stare. “I am sorry that I can not answer your concerns, for I am doubtful whether anyone could have taken the brooch from this particular box.”

Owen tilted his head slightly, as if by doing so he could better line up his opinion of Shimshin with Rasputina’s revelations. Glancing blankly at the people milling about with their cake, and at the newly married couple chatting with their guests, his mind grappled with this puzzle in it’s typical herky-jerky fashion.

Suddenly he heard Seamus whistling a rollicking tune through his teeth. It was a good song, First rate for rebec, or bladder pipe for that matter. It was all about a young yeoman taken captive by raiding corsairs. Turning Owen noticed that Seamus was now standing and was nodding to the elf as though he was ready to leave. But Owen was not ready to go. He was just opening his mouth to explain the theory he and Seamus had developed, that Shimshin must have, at some point in his life, lived among pirates, when he felt the toe of Seamus’ boot strike his thigh rather sharply.

“Thank you for understanding,” the tall man was saying to the graceful elf as he towered over Owen. Then reaching down, Seamus offered him his hand. “I think we had better check on Shimshin before we get back to playing, don’t you?” he said pulling Owen to his increasingly unsteady feet.

“Aye, I do,” Owen replied. “Looks like he may’ve more talents than just his dancing. Though it break my heart to find it true.”

[THE Ka]

After his explanation, Rasputina felt relieve but, still curious that Seamus's monkey could have opened that box.

"Oh, Well" , she thought. As long as she had the gifts back was all that mattered right now. After thanking Owen and Seamus for their help and recovery of the item, she rose and strode over to the party. She had seen the wedding of the couple and the incident with the cake - somewhat, she still didn't know who caused the comotion. Whatever it was, it had blown over and a natural calm ebbed into the crowd. One thing she must do, was to find the couple.

This was not as easy as she thought. Once she sought them out with her sharp glance, they would have moved on to another call. Rasputina felt like a stalker without a match. Or a very slick one at that. She always hated crowds, even though it had been so long since she was around so many people. The cake distribution had been granted by the couple to a good judge as they went from gift-giver to gift-giver. Then she noticed something run past through the corner of her eye. It was small of stature and it was not an 'it', but a flock. A flock of hobbit children had passed her by and she was suddenly caught in a state of fasination. They seemed like an ethreal bunch, zipping from here to there completely consumed in their own atmophereric world of games and laughter. She watched as they conjurgated in one area to play a strange game. Their movements worked so fast and joinly that she wondered if they thought one thought all together. They were now playing a game that involved something of a judge and group. All but one child formed a row, while the one separate stood alone at a distance. The lone player then began to sing a ryme addressing the other players. In a question and answer sing-song they played the game out, all the while some of the once tightly knit group now dispersing in different directions.

As Rasputina watched she noticed the wedded couple finally resting at one of the tables. Rasputina saw her chance to finally give her gifts, which had gone through so many tasks and travels, finally to be given to those who were meant for them. She then strode comfident and filled with happiness over to the couple. Finally to recieve the gifts of Eryn Vorn...

[Mithalwen]

Now that Snaveling had joined his own people, Mithalwen suddenly felt very alone in the crowd. Rasputina had been deep in conversation with the people with the monkey and she could not see the diminutive Caity in the throng. She decided to seek her faithful companion. She slipped away from the party, without seeing that her gift had been passed on so quickly, and to the stable yard. Mithalwen did not bother to go and change but lited her skirt hem to avoid harming her dress.

Aeglos whickered as she entered the barn which was serving as overspill stabling for him and the horses of other latecomers. For a moment Mithalwen resolved to leave that evening. She longed for the company of her own kind - the company of many mortals made her a little melancholy. There was no point in getting interested in them she thought ... they passed so quickly ... like a spring growth of bluebells in a beech wood.. She thought of Snaveling's words about the hidden paths of her people, and while the open ways were safer since the return of the King, she would be more likely to find her kindred on the ancient routes.

But Snaveling was also a reason to stay - his story had sparked her curiousity and she wished she knew the whole tale .. perhaps it was some silly misunderstanding that had separated them and which could easily be put right. She hoped, for the man's sake that Roa had not been so superficial that she was dismayed by his reversal in fortune.

She led Aeglos from the barn so he might graze a little, and feel the late afternoon sun on his back. " Pehaps one day longer.." she whispered to the grey horse , " There would be little enough comfort or companionship on the journey ahead and she need not rush on to Rivendell. She watched the party continue from a distance until she settled Aeglos back in the barn. On her return to the gathering she rejoined Snaveling.

[Envinyatar]

The áze nuquerna burned bright in the three other gems as Zimzi looked fondly at the trio, her faced wreathed in smiles. Derufin shook his head in wonder and bowed slightly toward the Elf. ‘Thank you, little one,’ he murmured, picturing the first time he’d met the bedraggled waif. He too, smiled as the image changed to this graceful lady who now stood before him. With a wink, he took her hand and cupped it to his cheek. ‘May your journey be light from now until the end is reached, the One willing. And yours, also,
Falowik,’ he said, clapping the man, then, on the shoulder. ‘These are rare gifts, my friends,’ he continued, ‘but precious beyond all gifts is that of the bond of friendship given and received today.’

He pulled Zimzi close to him, his arm about her waist. The brief moment of grace resolved itself into the ordinary flow of life. The world, which had narrowed for a space of time, to just these four, now flooded in. Sights and sounds of the party flooded back in. Derufin and Zimzi stepped back to the mathoms’ table with a promise from the man and Elf that they would see them later for a meal and perhaps share a dance.

Zimzi curtsied to Falowik with a grin on her face. ‘I shall, of course, expect a dance with you,’ she said. Derufin raised his brows at her. ‘It is my right as the bride, to do so,’ she instructed him, citing one of the many ‘rules’ her mother had gone over with her. ‘The last dance is saved for you, alone, my dear,’ she assured him.

‘Well, then,’ responded Derufin, looking at Uien with a pitying sigh. ‘You shall have to put up with a large footed, rather clumsy person for a dance.’ He looked down at her dainty feet and shook his head. ‘Thick boots, my dear,’ he laughed. ‘That’s what I require in a dance partner.’ Zimzi, standing behind him, nodded her head ‘yes’, quite emphatically, to his statement.