The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Firefoot]

Lily awoke to sunshine streaming through the window and the smell of eggs and toast wafting up through the floorboards. The final song they had performed last night was still playing itself through her mind. Mmm, breakfast, she thought. Lily felt like she was starving and realized how little she had eaten last night. She hurriedly got ready and went downstairs.

Though it was still early there were already several people downstairs, some of them helping themselves to a delicious breakfast and some helping the staff to clean up from last night's party. Lily opted to join the former group. She got a hearty breakfast of eggs, ham, and tea and dug in. The food was delicious. As she ate, she observed the other people who were in the Common Room. She saw the Elf who had played her flute with them last night for a bit - Now what was her name again? Lily wondered - talking to a Man she vaguely recognized from last night. She wasn't sure who anyone else was.

When Lily had finished her breakfast she looked around for a way to help out in cleaning up. She noted all the tables and chairs gone askew and decided to start there. She pushed some chairs back to where they belonged by the tables and righted a table that had been pushed over. It didn't look like such a mess when I went upstairs last night. But now the place looks absolutely filthy! thought Lily. I suppose there's nothing for it. These mugs need to go back to the kitchen, I suppose. She picked up the stray mugs on a table and carried them into the kitchen. The Hobbit maid smiled her thanks and said, "Those can go over there." Lily did as directed and wandered out into the Common Room, this time picking up a broom to begin sweeping. As she swept, she found herself humming a tune from last night.

Home is behind, the world ahead.
And there are many pathes to tread.
Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,
All shall fade, all shadows fade

[Eowyn Skywalker]

The sunlight streamed itself through the window, and highlighted the still sleeping hobbit's face. Birds chirped merrily as the bright sunlight illuminated the area. "Hmm..." Willow groaned slightly in her sleep, and, rubbing her eyes, tried to sit up. "Is it morning already?" she asked to the air, and continued to rub the sleep from her eyes.

Yawning, she pulled herself out of bed, and stood to look in the mirror. Her tired reflection looked back at her, rumpled and messy from the night before. She had been so tired after the last song that she had collapsed into bed, still in her dress from the day before.

The sounds of morning worked their way though the wooden cracks in the door, bringing her back to the present, and to the fact that, indeed, it was morning, and time for her to arise.

Her hair was a mess, as was normal to those who slept without removing the ribbons that she used to hold her curly brown hair back with. She knelt beside her bed, and pulled out her bags. She searched through them, and pulled out a comb. She removed the tangled mass of ribbons, and let loose her long hair.

Willow pulled the comb through, not bothering with neatness, just trying to get her hair out of the way, as it was morning, and she didn't fancy missing breakfast. A few minutes later, she had her hair pulled back into a loose braid, most befitting of her simple clothing.

She pulled her party dress off, tossing it over her head, and exchanged it for a more simple work-dress and apron, as now was not the time, she felt to be wearing fancier clothing. She tossed it into her bag, and shoved it back under her bed, along with her fiddle, still sitting on the floor from the night before.

Now ready, Willow stepped out the door, to see what was going on.

[Kransha]

A slithering beam of sunlight, bearing down through the bare slivers between wooden planks in the stable managed to pry open Toby’s single eyelid. The hobbit’s opened lid plastered closed in an instant, snapping as a trap would on a mouse. Slowly, but with a sluggish and lackadaisical sureness, the two heavy bulbs opened up, revealing beneath their wrinkled cloak a pair of disillusioned grayish orbs, watery and flanked beneath by bags of tinted red that told a tale of weariness and woe. With painful velocity, the inner workings and gears of Toby Hornblower’s brain began working as his lost faculties returned reluctantly to him.

Last night was still floating around in the murky ocean of his befuddled mind. He remembered, only fleetingly, his giving of the eleven…or was it ten, gold pieces to Miss Aman as a gift. He tried vaguely to reminisce, but found his mental and physical vision blurred as he tried to get up and failed, crumbling like so much jelly into a quivering mass covered in hay. He thought back, piecing together the events like a shattered jigsaw puzzle. He remembered the unfortunate incident in which a canine belonging to some partygoer was injured rather grievously. There was a deal of fuss made over it, which Toby and Snaveling saw when the two of them, dead drunk and stumbling with a luminous green aura of negative splendor dripping from them, had headed towards the inn stables. There were other incidents of gossip-worthy remembrance, but none that could be formed as moving images in Toby’s head. The hobbit grimaced mentally as he remembered the amount of alcohol he’d imbibed during the lengthy and lavish gala event yesterday eve.

Gradually, Toby’s stupor evacuated somewhat. The hobbit pushed himself miserably up into a sitting position, shaking his head and watching clinging strands of hay fly off his dangling brown and gray hair. He managed to shove his weak, shoeless legs beneath him and use them like great pliers to extract himself from the tawny mess of material. Yawning deeply, he became aware of a resilient and frustratingly consistent drumbeat that seemed to hammer against his cranium. The hangover was apparent, as Tobias immediately regretted every ill-aimed drop of ale from the night’s festivities. The pounding echoed more firmly, amplified now that the Fallohide hobbit was awake. Toby, beginning to flail his arms frantically to steady his unsteady balance, Tobias managed to bumble onto his feet, sliding with what could not be called agility out of the straw pile he was in, and onto the more solid, dirt ground. A nearby horse’s gaze caught his, followed by a disapproving whinny which jarred Toby’s failing senses.

Snorting indignantly, Toby examined himself thoroughly, despite the pang resounding in thunderous succession in his head’s empty halls, however empty they were. He smelled a vile smile, which permeated the air just around him. A veiled odor was dripping off his rustic-colored waistcoat and his greasy, unclean hands with their rough patches of skin soaked in an adhesive sensation from the previous night. Toby shook his two appendages over the hay, picking string of gathered dirt from the narrow niche between his jagged nails and scraggly fingers. He began walking, exercising his legs and pulling them up and down at a jogging pace as he tried to ignore the hangover. As he passed the great piles of hay and varying stalls, more horses perked up and protested the hobbit’s presence, though this particular Halfling didn’t seem to care. Toby knew the smell that surrounded him like a haze of thick smog was contrbuted to by his garb. Having brought no clothing change to the Green Dragon Inn, Toby hadn't changed his rust-brown waistcoat, evergreen breeches, or gaudy, limegreen, sequined vest in weeks. That vest, which he prized, was now bleached by dirt, dust, soot, and other debris that was magnetically attracted to it. Toby scowled again as he headed forward doggedly.

Still at a developing pace, Toby emerged from the stable and stretched, a full yawn punching out of his mouth where at had been waiting, followed by a walloping burp that had waited all night to be emitted by the previously drunk Shire resident. Toby coughed, recovering his ragged breath and forcing the wriggling frog from his throat as he gazed up, with a merry, if not slightly discomposed look gleaming in his one clearer eye. The beams freshly bathed him, soaking his shadow silhouette and blazoning it against the dull brown of the wooden stable. Letting a smile flicker over his soured lips, Tobias Hornblower strolled jollily towards the inn itself, whistling a merry tune to himself, which carried on the cool wind.

Galadel and Snaveling where within, in the Common Room, which was in severe disarray. Everything was arranged villainously in the order it should not have been. Toby had an inner sense of aesthetics, and this made his already wrenching stomach jump for some reason. He knew he was just overreacting because of the needed energy he had to vent, since he normally didn’t care how a room looked. Toby nodded an acknowledging nod to the elf and man, who had dutifully busied themselves with helping the long and tiresome process of cleaning. Most people seemed to be assisting in some way, no matter how miniscule or unnoticed in its unimportance. Toby figured he might lend a helping hand as well…a little bit later, that is.

Toby wasted no time in losing sight of the goals he’d been set on the previous sight when an enticing smell grabbed him by the collar and hauled him towards the kitchen. Shortly, beneath the noses of the few folk who’d awakened, Toby had easily appropriated (all in legal right, of course) a fully splendiferous platter splotched with the dappled, sweet-scented morning goodness of steaming ham, waiting to be eaten as eagerly as the eater to eat it. Toby sat himself down ceremoniously and prepared to plunge right in.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne slipped one foot out of bed and then the other. She was singing cheerfully as she popped her dress over her head, snatched up her gardening apron and sheers, and prepared to race downstairs to eat some breakfast.

What an utterly gorgeous day! What made it particularly gorgeous was the fact that she had survived the party the night before without any serious mishap. Despite all the rumors to the contrary, she had seen nothing of Cook, the vaunted mistress of the Inn's kitchens, whom many had said was arriving from the west and would give Hawthorne a serious going over.

The doomsayers could talk all they wanted! Hawthorne had enoyed her visit with Uncle Merry. She had danced a bit, sung a bit, and eaten an enormous array of food. She had chatted about the news from Brandybuck Hall, and made several new friends. Altogether, it had been a most pleasurable evening. Even the habitual grumpiness of Ruby and Buttercup towards her had not been enough to spoil her good time.

Hawthorne plunged heedlessly into the Common Room, offering a hearty greeting to the barely recovered Toby who was seemingly trying to drown out the memory of the night before with several ample slices of crisped ham. Hawthorne decided she would finish breakfast and then help tidy up the outside flower beds on which more than one pair of feet had trampled the evening before. After that, she would make her way down to the Water, and return with a string of fresh fish for the kitchen. That evening she hoped to go visit Master Hardhammer who had temporarily taken up residence in the neighborhood of Hobbiton; Regin was performing odd jobs involving metalwork or masonry for which he was generously rewarded by the inhabitants of the Shire who were only too happy to have their burrows improved. Perhaps she could persuade him to make her a little trinket to send back home to her sister.

With a heart more cheerful than she had known in weeks, Mistress Brandybuck sat down to a large breakfast of scrambled eggs and fresh toast....

[Kitanna]

The sunlight streamed into the window and rested on Peony's face. She pulled the covers over her head to block it out. Just a few more minutes of rest, she thought. She lay there eyes opening listening to the sounds of the morning. It was so peaceful that she wished it would stay like this all day.

Then Deva's loud almost inhuman snore broke through the silence. That was enough to force Peony out of bed. She got dressed swiftly and headed downstairs. A few people were already in the common room, some eating, some helping clean up. Peony wasn't very hungry so she grabbed a broom and started to help clean up as well.

As she went along she set chairs straight and moved a table back to its proper place. All the while she was humming a merry little tune.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia woke with the dawn, as normal. In a practised movement, she unhooked one end of the hammock strung in the tree, then hung be her hands from the branch as she unhooked the other. The hammock fell to the ground, and she let go and followed it. She gathered up the hammock, and disappeared into the stables to store it in her saddlebag.

She stepped into the seemingly empty stall after storing her hammock, to visit Arrow. The dog was asleep, bu opened his eyes when she entered the stall. Kneeling by him, she checked the wound she had dressed the night before. It was healing well, but she refreshed the bandages and herb mix to keep it fairly clean. Feeling happier about him, she scratched his ears and left him to rest further.

Upon entering the common room, a mess met her. Several early risers were righting tables and sweeping the floor. Thinking for a moment, she began to take down the posies of flowers that adorned the walls. They'd been fresh the night before, but the pretty blooms that had been used were not known for their long life after cutting. They were droopy, and had begun to look rather ugly inside the Inn. She dug them into some dead leaves outside. She returned to the common room, and grabbed a table to right it and place it back on it's legs.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
It was the next day and Adu had been thinking all night about what Isaac had to say. She walked down to the main room of the inn and saw that Isaac was already there. Adu figured it would be the best time to talk to him about last night. But she didn`t know whether or not to tell him about the forest. She knew that Isaac had a new life now and she didn`t want to jeopardize it. “Isaac, about last night... Well there was never a forest.“ I`m sorry Isaac I can`t tell you the truth. There was a forest. It was on our journey home that we fell into the forest of Lothlorien. But I can`t tell you that. If I did it would only make everything worse. I have my Hama to look after now. That was so long ago. I moved on since then.

Adu pulled a smile to her face and looked around to see if she could find some type of herb to rid her of her headache. Why couldn`t she tell him.

[Galadel Vinorel]

"Last night," said Galadel softly. She seemed to be talking to herself rather than to Snaveling, for she was not looking at him, rather her crystal clear eyes were staring within one of the glasses that she held, which was still half filled with wine. The elf thought back to the events of the night before, trying to make some sense of their events that were jumbled up within her troubled mind.

"Last night there was a party," spoke Galadel, totally absorbed in remembering, "Yes, a party in which I played my flute and you sang. You sang, Snaveling. Yes, now I remember that. It seems like only hours ago, yet at the same time, years ago." She turned, bringing her sorrowful eyes to meet with Snaveling's suprised ones. Her eyes were glazed over, as if she were not really there, but somewhere else entirely, some place that was lost within her memory. Yet she was there. "And you spilled the ale, and talked to Aman. You asked forgiveness from her, yes you did. You recieved a new pair of clothes, payed for by the money that you borrowed from Tobias. And Roa saw the amulet. The amulet ." At this Galadel looked deeper into Snaveling's eyes, hers not glazed any longer. "The amulet," she whispered to herself, and then turned away from the man to begin working once again.

For a moment Snaveling remained stunned and very suprised, starring confused at the back of the Elven maiden. Then he spoke, "My lady, you have yet to answer my question."

Sighing, Galadel turned back to him and said, "Must you know, my friend?"

Snaveling was a little taken aback by the word that she used for him, but he did not let that deter him from his want to know the truth. "Yes, Galadel, I really doneed to know."

The maiden could hear the strain in his voice, and sighed once more. "Very well, Snaveling," she said, putting down the cups thta seh held in her hands, "I will tell you a story, one that I have known all of my life, one of the lost land of Numenor." And so the elf began, telling the history of the peaceful land, of the Lords and Ladys that had onced ruled it. She told him about their lives and deaths, wonderful stories, heroic storied, love stories, and tearful ones. And then she told him about its destruction, about Sauron the deceiver, and the King of Numenor's betrayel. How long she talked neither of them know, for both were caught up withing the history of Numenor.

"I remember the beauty of that land," she said after she had told him the land's entire history, "It was filled with trees, gorgeous, tall trees that filled that land. There were items made there, jewels forged, tables and other wooden items carved wtih flowers, birds, and elven characters, that were so beautiful that you would cry when you beheld them. Some of the greatest makers that ever lived worked on that land. I remember the harbors the most, though. I saw some of the largest and most beautiful ships there. I never even knew until then that ships could be so beautiful, except for the ones that came from Valinor."

Seeing Snaveling's startled face, Galadel laughed. "You are wondering now how I could have seen Numenor, the land that was lost so long ago, aren't you, Snaveling?" she said, smiling as the man of the South nodded slowly, "How old do you think I am?"

"Um...Around your late 20's or so. At least, that is how you look, my lady, though I do know that elves never look their real age," he replied.

"No, we never do," replied the maiden softly, and then she went on, "I am not in my 20's at all. I have been alive for a long time, but for how long I will not say. That is my own little secret." Galadel winked at Snaveling, grinning, and then returned to cleaning off the cups off the tables, as teh man thought over all that she had just told to him.

[Archsage Isaac]

“Isaac, about last night... Well there was never a forest.“ Adu told Isaac as he slowly took a sip of the coffee in his mug. He was confused. That image was so real, he could smell the forest air. He swallowed the coffee in his mouth and looked at her.

"The look on your face tells me otherwise, Adu. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe that was just some fabricated image that I thought was real. I do know, however, that this 'Jack' felt something for you, something....special." he said, remembering that image and how it felt. Again he took a slow sip of coffee and found himself once again lost in his own memories.