The Seventh Star Inn - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 03-29-2004, 02:01 PM

It had been a long, hot, disgruntling day at the dressmaker’s shop. Were it up to Piosenniel alone she would simply have pointed to a bolt of some acceptable material of an unobtrusive hue; given some vague instructions to the seamstress about not making it too tight or too long. And no, she would not be needing a cloak, slippers dyed, scarves, or any fussy items for the hair.

Or better yet, she would rather have pulled some gown from her wooden chest, shaken it out, and called it ‘good’.

But Gilwen had seen the invitation and mounted a protest. ‘It’s the King’s party, ammë! You have to have a pretty new dress.’ Little Cami nodded her head solemnly, wondering all the while if there would be cakes and other sweets. Eyes sparkling in anticipation, she piped up with a suggestion for a new bag to go with the outfit. ‘A pretty one . . . and big, too,’ she murmured at the end, thinking of the treats that might be brought home in it.

Even Isilmir had his thoughts on the occasion. ‘Father’s gone away. You’ll have to be the one to show up for our family. He’d want you to go and greet the King.’ He looked at his mother with a critical eye. ‘For a mother you still look good.’ Pio raised her brows at this assessment, but he continued on. ‘A pretty new dress would be even better.’ Cami and Gilwen nodded in complete agreement with their brother.

Pio had shaken her head and burst out in laughter at their concerted effort. ‘Alright, then,’ she had said. ‘Promise me there will be no more talk of pretty this and pretty that, and tomorrow we will all go into the city to see about making me suitably acceptable!’

~*~

Now they found themselves at the Seventh Star Inn. The discussions about material, the cajolings about ‘fashion’ and the innumerable measurings were done for the day. The seamstress had promised to have it ready for a fitting in a few day’s time, further promising that it would be the final fitting. The Elf had an exasperated look in her eye by the end of this tedious process. The dressmaker wisely chose not to discuss accessories, simply tucking away in the back of her mind what would be appropriate. She would present the entire outfit when Pio returned.

‘Look, ammë!’ Gilwen’s voice broke in on her thoughts as she sipped her cup of wine. Pio turned to see her daughter standing on a chair the three had carried to the wall at the end of the bar. ‘A story-teller . . . a new one has come into the city.’

Little Cami danced at the announcement, twirling around in delight as she looked up at her sister. She fixed her mother with a smile. ‘Oh, I love new stories! We can stay to hear one, can’t we?’ she asked clapping her hands. She looked about expectantly, wondering which one of the people at the Inn’s tables might be the new spinner of tales . . .

Aylwen Dreamsong · 03-30-2004, 05:20 PM

For the first time, Aylwen stepped into the Seventh Star. She was free to practice her trade in Gondor, and accepted to join the others that were of the distinct honor of being on the list of proper Gondorians. It was a fine and happy day for Aylwen, indeed, for she had spent many, many long months in Rohan. Aylwen knew her heart was still in Rohan, but such an honor as to be admitted pass into Gondor would not be overlooked by the young minstrel.

The young lady watched as people crowded around the message left by the soldier of Gondor. Some walked off, uninterested; others searched to see what face belonged to the name on the message.

"Perhaps with the offer of a bottle of wine, she will choose cheerful songs, and we will dream cheerful dreams!" Aylwen overheard someone say, and the new Gondorian chuckled at the suggestion. Aylwen walked over to the one who had spoken.

"I do not need wine to sing cheerful songs!" Aylwen said as greeting. "If it is music you wish to hear, and music to soothe your soul, you need only ask. Wine is a temporary comfort...a good tune rings forever!"

Aylwen pulled her set of panpipes from her knapsack, and piped a few notes before clearing her throat and singing the first song of dreams that came to her. In her clear alto voice, Aylwen sang for the woman and her companion:

"Rest, rest, sweet dreamers are sleeping,
Soon the dreams will come a-creeping.
Rest, rest, your peace will come soon,
Before the rising sun and setting moon.

Forget the Haven’s bells, forever ringing,
Listen only to the dream spirits singing.
Forget the pain of the day long past,
And I promise, you will find peace at last.

Rest, rest, dream of prosperity,
Crisp and clean in morning clarity.
Rest, rest, and loathe the hour of dawn,
When you must wake to dreams forgone.

Smile in your sleep, sweet little one,
And you will find joy ‘ere all is done.
Think of the times before there was war,
And you will sleep happily, forever more.

Rest, rest, my restless child fair,
Calm in dreaming without despair.
Rest, rest, and I promise you’ll see,
The world of dreams was made for thee."

mark12_30 · 03-30-2004, 07:59 PM

Raefindan and Mellonin exchanged glances, and then Raefindan stepped back to the bar and gave Morien a coin. Morien handed him a bottle, which Raefindan frowned at, and pointed to another. Morien laughed, and Raefindan got the bottle he wanted.

He presented the wine to Aylwen with a deep and rather outlandish bow. Aylwen looked on, slightly startled, but thanked him.

"A sweet song indeed, Lady. Perhaps you'd teach it to my friend?" he said with a gesture towards Mellonin. Mellonin laughed, and quietly applauded. "I'd love to learn it. But if you sing it much more, you'll have to wake me from my dreams!"

Raefindan opened the bottle, and poured Aylwen a glass. "A sweet lullabye, and fitting for one with a name such as yours. Who taught you such mastery of your craft, lady Aylwen? Tell us your tale."

Rimbaud · 04-02-2004, 02:19 AM

Wheels moved within wheels, and even sickness passes. After some time in the Inn, Rimbaud finally descended to the common room and smiled at those present. He seemed paler and some of the laughter had left his eyes, but the grey tunic and the light blue sash were familiar.

He sat with some of the patrons for a while, talking lightly on the robust condition of the Inn. He spoke highly of the story-tellers of Gondor, who still circled the Inn. Rarely had the Innkeeper seen such healthy prose, he laughed.

He smiled at the newcomer to the List and bade her welcome to the Star. He did not know what she would make of this grey stranger with the tired eyes. Yet he made much of the new carving on the board, and shared a long pint and conversation with Mithadan, who slapped him on the back genially.

Rimbaud’s mind was not on these pleasantries, however. Much as he disliked it, he was again enmeshed in schemes of the City, and he was particularly guilty of using certain friends. There were strands running through the Inn, plans weaving together. He just wished he could see the pattern they wove.

Rising again, he adjusted his sash and winked at the barman. “Well,” he said quietly. “I’m back.”

Estelyn Telcontar · 04-02-2004, 06:58 AM

Estelyn applauded appreciatively when Aylwen finished her song. How fortunate that she should have come to the Inn at just the right time for meetings and greetings! She had bidden Mellonin and her companions farewell and welcomed the new story-teller. The Loremistress was pleased with double prospects of new tales for the archives of the White City. Now she stepped over to speak with Rimbaud, happy to see her friend on his feet again.

“I see that you have finally deigned to honour us with your presence!” she said lightly, with a hint of a curtsey and an impish smile.

“Indeed,” he replied, “I assume that you were bored without my enlivening influence! Tell me, how did your journey go? Did you collect many new tales for the city archives?”

“Yes, and you shall see and hear of them in time. But tell me first, what is it that causes your eyes to look inwards rather than seeing what is happening around you?” Estelyn queried. “You may be here in body, but your thoughts stray elsewhere.”

Her observation did not surprise Rimbaud; he was accustomed to the fact that she could see what others did not. “Come away from the bustle and the hearing ears here,” he suggested. “Then I can tell you some of what troubles my mind.”

mark12_30 · 04-02-2004, 07:31 AM

Mellonin, Raefindan, Ravion and Aeron had finished packing. Ravion was deep in thought about the immanent departure. Mellonin and Raefindan went to find Morien.

"Well, all equipped and ready?" Morien said.

"Yes, sir, " replied Mellonin. "And please, sir, I wanted to thank you again for the advance. That was very generous of you. Thank you."

He studied her. She could be perceptive, or flighty, she could be thoughtful or absent-minded. "I assume you have spoken with your parents?" he said.

She shook her head. "We will pass by their house on the way out. I planned to stop in then."

"Mellonin, how can you be so foolish? Contact them now."

"Why?"

"How can they do anything to help you if you don't give them any notice?"

Her face fell. "They have so little. I do not want to burden them."

He snorted. "Foolish girl. If your corpse rots in the wilderness, They will have even less. Where do your parents live?"

"In the lowest circle."

"Tell Ravion where it is, and have them all meet you there."

Raefindan waved her out. She snatched up her cloak and pack, the shoulder-bag, and the awkward bundle of clothes and equipment that she was gong to change into; she would have to change in her parent's room. Hurriedly giving Ravion the directions to the room her parents lived in, she hurried to the door.

She turned with a sinking heart and looked back. In such a short time, the Inn had become a comfortable place. Morien in the end had shown her kindness behind his gruff exterior. And there were so many others to whom she wished she had time to say farewell. Her eyes fell on Estelyn, who was now talking to the Inn owner, and she fervently wished her well.

Raefindan waved her out again, and she turned and left the Inn.

mark12_30 · 04-02-2004, 09:45 AM

The mouse emerged cautiously from his hole near the fireplace, and peered around the corner. Nose twitching, he sat up, eyeing the elf-lady with her children. She was enjoying the dreamy music sung by the new bard.

The mouse's nose twitched again, and his ears went forward. Her lively children were fun to watch. And the mouse was happy to see the elf-lady here at the inn.

Happy Birthday, elf-lady.

03-29-2004, 02:01 PM	#1
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It had been a long, hot, disgruntling day at the dressmaker’s shop. Were it up to Piosenniel alone she would simply have pointed to a bolt of some acceptable material of an unobtrusive hue; given some vague instructions to the seamstress about not making it too tight or too long. And no, she would not be needing a cloak, slippers dyed, scarves, or any fussy items for the hair. Or better yet, she would rather have pulled some gown from her wooden chest, shaken it out, and called it ‘good’. But Gilwen had seen the invitation and mounted a protest. ‘It’s the King’s party, ammë! You have to have a pretty new dress.’ Little Cami nodded her head solemnly, wondering all the while if there would be cakes and other sweets. Eyes sparkling in anticipation, she piped up with a suggestion for a new bag to go with the outfit. ‘A pretty one . . . and big, too,’ she murmured at the end, thinking of the treats that might be brought home in it. Even Isilmir had his thoughts on the occasion. ‘Father’s gone away. You’ll have to be the one to show up for our family. He’d want you to go and greet the King.’ He looked at his mother with a critical eye. ‘For a mother you still look good.’ Pio raised her brows at this assessment, but he continued on. ‘A pretty new dress would be even better.’ Cami and Gilwen nodded in complete agreement with their brother. Pio had shaken her head and burst out in laughter at their concerted effort. ‘Alright, then,’ she had said. ‘Promise me there will be no more talk of pretty this and pretty that, and tomorrow we will all go into the city to see about making me suitably acceptable!’ ~*~ Now they found themselves at the Seventh Star Inn. The discussions about material, the cajolings about ‘fashion’ and the innumerable measurings were done for the day. The seamstress had promised to have it ready for a fitting in a few day’s time, further promising that it would be the final fitting. The Elf had an exasperated look in her eye by the end of this tedious process. The dressmaker wisely chose not to discuss accessories, simply tucking away in the back of her mind what would be appropriate. She would present the entire outfit when Pio returned. ‘Look, ammë!’ Gilwen’s voice broke in on her thoughts as she sipped her cup of wine. Pio turned to see her daughter standing on a chair the three had carried to the wall at the end of the bar. ‘A story-teller . . . a new one has come into the city.’ Little Cami danced at the announcement, twirling around in delight as she looked up at her sister. She fixed her mother with a smile. ‘Oh, I love new stories! We can stay to hear one, can’t we?’ she asked clapping her hands. She looked about expectantly, wondering which one of the people at the Inn’s tables might be the new spinner of tales . . . __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

03-30-2004, 07:59 PM	#3
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Raefindan and Mellonin exchanged glances, and then Raefindan stepped back to the bar and gave Morien a coin. Morien handed him a bottle, which Raefindan frowned at, and pointed to another. Morien laughed, and Raefindan got the bottle he wanted. He presented the wine to Aylwen with a deep and rather outlandish bow. Aylwen looked on, slightly startled, but thanked him. "A sweet song indeed, Lady. Perhaps you'd teach it to my friend?" he said with a gesture towards Mellonin. Mellonin laughed, and quietly applauded. "I'd love to learn it. But if you sing it much more, you'll have to wake me from my dreams!" Raefindan opened the bottle, and poured Aylwen a glass. "A sweet lullabye, and fitting for one with a name such as yours. Who taught you such mastery of your craft, lady Aylwen? Tell us your tale." __________________ ...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.

04-02-2004, 02:19 AM	#4
Rimbaud The Perilous Poet Join Date: Apr 2002 Location: Heart of the matter Posts: 1,062	Wheels moved within wheels, and even sickness passes. After some time in the Inn, Rimbaud finally descended to the common room and smiled at those present. He seemed paler and some of the laughter had left his eyes, but the grey tunic and the light blue sash were familiar. He sat with some of the patrons for a while, talking lightly on the robust condition of the Inn. He spoke highly of the story-tellers of Gondor, who still circled the Inn. Rarely had the Innkeeper seen such healthy prose, he laughed. He smiled at the newcomer to the List and bade her welcome to the Star. He did not know what she would make of this grey stranger with the tired eyes. Yet he made much of the new carving on the board, and shared a long pint and conversation with Mithadan, who slapped him on the back genially. Rimbaud’s mind was not on these pleasantries, however. Much as he disliked it, he was again enmeshed in schemes of the City, and he was particularly guilty of using certain friends. There were strands running through the Inn, plans weaving together. He just wished he could see the pattern they wove. Rising again, he adjusted his sash and winked at the barman. “Well,” he said quietly. “I’m back.” __________________ And all the rest is literature

04-02-2004, 09:45 AM	#7
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	for Pio The mouse emerged cautiously from his hole near the fireplace, and peered around the corner. Nose twitching, he sat up, eyeing the elf-lady with her children. She was enjoying the dreamy music sung by the new bard. The mouse's nose twitched again, and his ears went forward. Her lively children were fun to watch. And the mouse was happy to see the elf-lady here at the inn. Happy Birthday, elf-lady.

03-30-2004, 05:20 PM	#2
Aylwen Dreamsong The Melody of Misery Join Date: Aug 2002 Location: The Island of Conclusions (You get there by jumping!)... Posts: 1,147	For the first time, Aylwen stepped into the Seventh Star. She was free to practice her trade in Gondor, and accepted to join the others that were of the distinct honor of being on the list of proper Gondorians. It was a fine and happy day for Aylwen, indeed, for she had spent many, many long months in Rohan. Aylwen knew her heart was still in Rohan, but such an honor as to be admitted pass into Gondor would not be overlooked by the young minstrel. The young lady watched as people crowded around the message left by the soldier of Gondor. Some walked off, uninterested; others searched to see what face belonged to the name on the message. "Perhaps with the offer of a bottle of wine, she will choose cheerful songs, and we will dream cheerful dreams!" Aylwen overheard someone say, and the new Gondorian chuckled at the suggestion. Aylwen walked over to the one who had spoken. "I do not need wine to sing cheerful songs!" Aylwen said as greeting. "If it is music you wish to hear, and music to soothe your soul, you need only ask. Wine is a temporary comfort...a good tune rings forever!" Aylwen pulled her set of panpipes from her knapsack, and piped a few notes before clearing her throat and singing the first song of dreams that came to her. In her clear alto voice, Aylwen sang for the woman and her companion: "Rest, rest, sweet dreamers are sleeping, Soon the dreams will come a-creeping. Rest, rest, your peace will come soon, Before the rising sun and setting moon. Forget the Haven’s bells, forever ringing, Listen only to the dream spirits singing. Forget the pain of the day long past, And I promise, you will find peace at last. Rest, rest, dream of prosperity, Crisp and clean in morning clarity. Rest, rest, and loathe the hour of dawn, When you must wake to dreams forgone. Smile in your sleep, sweet little one, And you will find joy ‘ere all is done. Think of the times before there was war, And you will sleep happily, forever more. Rest, rest, my restless child fair, Calm in dreaming without despair. Rest, rest, and I promise you’ll see, The world of dreams was made for thee."

04-02-2004, 06:58 AM	#5
Estelyn Telcontar Princess of Skwerlz Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: where the Sea is eastwards (WtR: 6060 miles) Posts: 7,500	Estelyn applauded appreciatively when Aylwen finished her song. How fortunate that she should have come to the Inn at just the right time for meetings and greetings! She had bidden Mellonin and her companions farewell and welcomed the new story-teller. The Loremistress was pleased with double prospects of new tales for the archives of the White City. Now she stepped over to speak with Rimbaud, happy to see her friend on his feet again. “I see that you have finally deigned to honour us with your presence!” she said lightly, with a hint of a curtsey and an impish smile. “Indeed,” he replied, “I assume that you were bored without my enlivening influence! Tell me, how did your journey go? Did you collect many new tales for the city archives?” “Yes, and you shall see and hear of them in time. But tell me first, what is it that causes your eyes to look inwards rather than seeing what is happening around you?” Estelyn queried. “You may be here in body, but your thoughts stray elsewhere.” Her observation did not surprise Rimbaud; he was accustomed to the fact that she could see what others did not. “Come away from the bustle and the hearing ears here,” he suggested. “Then I can tell you some of what troubles my mind.”

04-02-2004, 07:31 AM	#6
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Mellonin, Raefindan, Ravion and Aeron had finished packing. Ravion was deep in thought about the immanent departure. Mellonin and Raefindan went to find Morien. "Well, all equipped and ready?" Morien said. "Yes, sir, " replied Mellonin. "And please, sir, I wanted to thank you again for the advance. That was very generous of you. Thank you." He studied her. She could be perceptive, or flighty, she could be thoughtful or absent-minded. "I assume you have spoken with your parents?" he said. She shook her head. "We will pass by their house on the way out. I planned to stop in then." "Mellonin, how can you be so foolish? Contact them now." "Why?" "How can they do anything to help you if you don't give them any notice?" Her face fell. "They have so little. I do not want to burden them." He snorted. "Foolish girl. If your corpse rots in the wilderness, They will have even less. Where do your parents live?" "In the lowest circle." "Tell Ravion where it is, and have them all meet you there." Raefindan waved her out. She snatched up her cloak and pack, the shoulder-bag, and the awkward bundle of clothes and equipment that she was gong to change into; she would have to change in her parent's room. Hurriedly giving Ravion the directions to the room her parents lived in, she hurried to the door. She turned with a sinking heart and looked back. In such a short time, the Inn had become a comfortable place. Morien in the end had shown her kindness behind his gruff exterior. And there were so many others to whom she wished she had time to say farewell. Her eyes fell on Estelyn, who was now talking to the Inn owner, and she fervently wished her well. Raefindan waved her out again, and she turned and left the Inn.