The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[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?”

[*Arwen*]

Tiruviel

After polishing off her food and gratefully accepting another ale, Tiruviel decided to go and introduce herself to a couple of people. She glanced aroung the room, soaking up all the different conversations and her eyes rested on a girl sitting on her own.

She wound her way through the crowd and ended up next to the girl. "Hello," smiled Tiruviel, "is this seat taken?" The girl looked up, "No." Tiruviel sat herself down and smiled. "My name is Tiruviel, I have journied from Lothlorien." The girl looked up again and smiled. Tiruviel noted how friendly her smile was. "Mine is Adu," she said.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Tiruviel apologised, "It's just that you looked so bored and I am quite lonely myself." She smiled again. Hopefully this will be a nicer evening than i thought

[Maeggaladiel]

"Sorry if I seem kind of distracted, I'm really not used to being around this many people, I am used to being alone in my travels..." he added with a slight smile.

"That's quite all right," said Eleniel. "I feel quite overwhelmed myself." There was so much going on here, it was almost dizzying. "But I like it. It's better than tending a shop all day." Arrow gave a snort in agreement.

"Actually, this trip is one of the highlights of my year," Eleniel continued. "It's my chance to get out and see the world and everything in it. The rest of the time I spend selling what I collect on this trip." She nodded towards her bag.

Arrow yawned, growing bored. He whined once to Eleniel, casting longing glances to the door. Eleniel sighed.

"I told you to do that before you came in, dog." she said. Arrow gave her the infamous "Sad Puppy Look." Eleniel sighed. She was a sucker for the Sad Puppy Look.

"All right, go ahead. Just don't get into trouble." she said. Arrow wagged his tail and licked both Isaac and Eleniel before trotting to the door and pushing it open with his nose. Before he left, he cast a glance over his shoulder. The look seemed to say, "I'll be back. Your hand had better be ready to pet me when I return!"

The dog almost ran into a finely-dressed man. It took Eleniel a moment to recognise him as Snaveling, the man who had stolen the hobbit's coin. Apparently the coin had gone to good use.

"He looks different!" Eleniel murmured. Turning back to Isaac, she smiled. "You said something about searching for lost memories. What did you mean? I don't mean to pry," she added quickly, red showing on the apples of her cheeks.
***
Arrow sniffed the air, happy to be outside. The delicious smell of cooking food mixed with the interesting scents of livestock and evening. A bee flew around his head and a cricket hopped to and fro at his feet. This was the life.

He momentarily considered eating the cricket, just to see what it tasted like, but the notion was forgotten as something rustled a bush across the coblestone street.

A natural hunter, Arrow was instantly intrigued. His trusty nose told him that the creature in the bush was a rabbit. Rabbits were yummy, and much more fun to catch than a cricket was.

Bounding across the street and squishing the cricket in the process, Arrow was completely happy.

[Feared Half-Elf]

"Well met." she nodded to the elf named Kyria, and marvelled at how she was everything that herself was not. She was the classic 'perfect' elf, with blonde hair and classic eyes. Elkamia had brown hair, and silvery grey eyes. She'd never really cared, until she saw Kyria. "What am I thinking?" she chided herself, as the elf Tinuviel, who she had approached, wandered away and began talking ta a lone girl sat by herself. "You've always concentrated on what's going on around you, not what you look like." She shook the thoughts from her head and concentrated on the elf before her. "Where do you come from?"

She did think, however, that the wine coloured robe was a little too flamboyant for her tastes. But then, she hated dresses generally. She would have preferred to come to this party in her normal clothes, but oh well. A party met a dress, as she had thought to herself many times during the evening.