The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 03-19-2005, 01:17 AM

Time in the Shire

It is now evening. Supper is being served:

Stewed chicken with taters and carrots; mushroom pie; fresh garden peas with mint and butter; big fluffy biscuits with plenty of butter and honey and jam.

Spice cake full of plump sweet raisins iced with thick vanilla frosting.

And numerous beverages to suit anyone's needs.

---

The night is clear; the stars bright points of light studding the darkness. It is chilly with the promise of a spring storm later in the night . . .

Mithalwen · 03-19-2005, 02:34 PM

Mithalwen reflected that it was the second time Aman had startled them. There was something unusual about this young woman - or else Mithalwen's senses were dulled by the hubbub and unfamiliarity of the inn. Few mortals can catch an elf off guard even if they are not consciously on their guard.

"Aman, will you join us?" Mithalwen poured three generous glasses from the bottle she had brought over. "Then perhaps we can resolve the misunderstandings and grief that have occured ... and there are one or two more trivial matters I would ask your counsel on... but " Mithalwen hesitated .. the situation stretched even elvish skill in language, and though these few days in the shire had refreshed her long unused Westron she wished she could speak in her own tongue - but while Snaveling would cope she did not think that maids of rohan were raised to use the elvish tongue. "Forgive me, what I am about to say is likely to surprise you, shock you even and I may ask questions you find intrusive after such slight acquaintanceship, but I ask that you hear me out?"

Aman took a good sip of of wine and nodded her assent, although her gaze met the elf's grey eyes steadily she could not but be aware of the tension that filled Snaveling. They formed a strange triptych in the relative seclusion of their shadowed corner. The shabby dunedain lord flanked by two women, the golden maid of Rohan, elven fair and her pale reflection, the ageless elfwoman, silver haired and grey clad. However in Mithalwen's eyes, Aman saw compassion fuelled by the memory of loss and long sorrow. They implored her to listen and understand and the words though spoken seemed to carry soothing melodies, although at first she was bewildered since Mithalwen was telling her things she already knew - of Snaveling's lost family.

" Since you spoke this afternoon, Tar Corondir, has come to a certain realisation, but only you can confirm if it is really true.... " time to utter those words which no matter how gently introduced were likely to have the same effect on Aman's mind as spring had on ice floes, words that might shatter her world - but also remake it, and Snaveling's. she laid a gentle hand on Aman's

"Tar-Corondir has noticed a ressemblance between you and his late wife, he believes you may be his lost son's child. ... There is a connection between you I deem ... I know little of your history but is it possible that it is true - or is it only that his wish sees a likeness ?"

Encaitare · 03-19-2005, 02:56 PM

Caity had slipped away from the others some time ago, in fact, just after young Marigold's outburst. She had felt terribly awkward upon hearing Aman and Snaveling's past revealed in front of the whole of the Inn, and so she had quietly taken her leave, figuring that it was best to leave those involved on their own for a while.

She had strolled around outdoors for a bit as the weather cleared up, feeling the mud squelching between her toes and grinning to herself at the oddly pleasant sensation. After a substantial amount of roaming the area and playing idle tunes on her whistle, she returned to the inn with a growling stomach as her motivation, carefully wiping her feet on the grass so she wouldn't get the floors very dirty.

The homey and delicious smell of chicken and mushrooms greeted her as she opened the door; she found herself a table and ordered a plate of chicken and taters and mushroom pie with a mug of hot cider. She dug in, trying to mind her own business but at the same time wondering exactly what had occurred with Aman and Snaveling.

Oh, don't you go poking your nose where it doesn't belong, she thought, turning her mind to what might be going on at home. Quite frankly, she did not wish to return overmuch, and people were talking of more rain -- that would make a fine reason to stay another night! She nodded in satisfaction to herself when she thought she heard someone calling her name.

She craned her neck and looked around, and then a voice came in her ear: "Caity! There you are!"

She jumped and turned, then tried her best not to groan. "Tommy, what are you doing here?"

"Mother sent me to come get you," her younger brother said, sing-song. "She told me to tell you that you've been wasting your time at the Inn long enough and you have to come back home. Or else," he added, an afterthought.

"I'm not going now," she responded, gesturing at her dinner. Tommy picked a tater off her plate and popped it into his mouth. "Hey!" she protested, drawing looks from some of the others in the room. Suddenly she felt like a very selfish person... but still... she didn't want to go.

Sighing, she said, "I take it you're not to leave without me." The lad nodded; so did she. "Then have a seat. I'll buy you some dinner."

03-19-2005, 02:34 PM	#2
Mithalwen Pilgrim Soul Join Date: May 2004 Location: watching the wonga-wonga birds circle... Posts: 9,459	Mithalwen reflected that it was the second time Aman had startled them. There was something unusual about this young woman - or else Mithalwen's senses were dulled by the hubbub and unfamiliarity of the inn. Few mortals can catch an elf off guard even if they are not consciously on their guard. "Aman, will you join us?" Mithalwen poured three generous glasses from the bottle she had brought over. "Then perhaps we can resolve the misunderstandings and grief that have occured ... and there are one or two more trivial matters I would ask your counsel on... but " Mithalwen hesitated .. the situation stretched even elvish skill in language, and though these few days in the shire had refreshed her long unused Westron she wished she could speak in her own tongue - but while Snaveling would cope she did not think that maids of rohan were raised to use the elvish tongue. "Forgive me, what I am about to say is likely to surprise you, shock you even and I may ask questions you find intrusive after such slight acquaintanceship, but I ask that you hear me out?" Aman took a good sip of of wine and nodded her assent, although her gaze met the elf's grey eyes steadily she could not but be aware of the tension that filled Snaveling. They formed a strange triptych in the relative seclusion of their shadowed corner. The shabby dunedain lord flanked by two women, the golden maid of Rohan, elven fair and her pale reflection, the ageless elfwoman, silver haired and grey clad. However in Mithalwen's eyes, Aman saw compassion fuelled by the memory of loss and long sorrow. They implored her to listen and understand and the words though spoken seemed to carry soothing melodies, although at first she was bewildered since Mithalwen was telling her things she already knew - of Snaveling's lost family. " Since you spoke this afternoon, Tar Corondir, has come to a certain realisation, but only you can confirm if it is really true.... " time to utter those words which no matter how gently introduced were likely to have the same effect on Aman's mind as spring had on ice floes, words that might shatter her world - but also remake it, and Snaveling's. she laid a gentle hand on Aman's "Tar-Corondir has noticed a ressemblance between you and his late wife, he believes you may be his lost son's child. ... There is a connection between you I deem ... I know little of your history but is it possible that it is true - or is it only that his wish sees a likeness ?" __________________ “But Finrod walks with Finarfin his father beneath the trees in Eldamar.” Christopher Tolkien, Requiescat in pace Last edited by Mithalwen; 03-19-2005 at 03:02 PM.

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03-19-2005, 01:17 AM	#1
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Time in the Shire It is now evening. Supper is being served: Stewed chicken with taters and carrots; mushroom pie; fresh garden peas with mint and butter; big fluffy biscuits with plenty of butter and honey and jam. Spice cake full of plump sweet raisins iced with thick vanilla frosting. And numerous beverages to suit anyone's needs. --- The night is clear; the stars bright points of light studding the darkness. It is chilly with the promise of a spring storm later in the night . . . Last edited by piosenniel; 03-19-2005 at 01:27 AM.

03-19-2005, 02:56 PM	#3
Encaitare Bittersweet Symphony Join Date: Jul 2004 Location: On the jolly starship Enterprise Posts: 1,814	Caity had slipped away from the others some time ago, in fact, just after young Marigold's outburst. She had felt terribly awkward upon hearing Aman and Snaveling's past revealed in front of the whole of the Inn, and so she had quietly taken her leave, figuring that it was best to leave those involved on their own for a while. She had strolled around outdoors for a bit as the weather cleared up, feeling the mud squelching between her toes and grinning to herself at the oddly pleasant sensation. After a substantial amount of roaming the area and playing idle tunes on her whistle, she returned to the inn with a growling stomach as her motivation, carefully wiping her feet on the grass so she wouldn't get the floors very dirty. The homey and delicious smell of chicken and mushrooms greeted her as she opened the door; she found herself a table and ordered a plate of chicken and taters and mushroom pie with a mug of hot cider. She dug in, trying to mind her own business but at the same time wondering exactly what had occurred with Aman and Snaveling. Oh, don't you go poking your nose where it doesn't belong, she thought, turning her mind to what might be going on at home. Quite frankly, she did not wish to return overmuch, and people were talking of more rain -- that would make a fine reason to stay another night! She nodded in satisfaction to herself when she thought she heard someone calling her name. She craned her neck and looked around, and then a voice came in her ear: "Caity! There you are!" She jumped and turned, then tried her best not to groan. "Tommy, what are you doing here?" "Mother sent me to come get you," her younger brother said, sing-song. "She told me to tell you that you've been wasting your time at the Inn long enough and you have to come back home. Or else," he added, an afterthought. "I'm not going now," she responded, gesturing at her dinner. Tommy picked a tater off her plate and popped it into his mouth. "Hey!" she protested, drawing looks from some of the others in the room. Suddenly she felt like a very selfish person... but still... she didn't want to go. Sighing, she said, "I take it you're not to leave without me." The lad nodded; so did she. "Then have a seat. I'll buy you some dinner."