The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Kitanna]

"Rohan, you must make it a point to visit there one day. It is a beautiful country. My father was born and raised there, our family often went to visit there." Peony was once again wrapped in her love for Rohan and its people.

"To have a horse bred by the Horse-lords. If only I could claim such a thing. My horse was raised by one of the stable boys in Minas Tirith and she is nothing like the horses from Rohan."

"Now about Minas Tirith, yes it is in Gondor. The capital to be exact. It has been called the White City and I cannot explain its beauty to you. It is a sight one must see on their own. It is far from here and sometimes I long to return to see my family, but the open road calls my name."

Peony thought of all the places she had visited that lay between the Shire and Minas Tirirth. "There are many places between here and Gondor and most I have not yet seen. Of course there is Rohan, the Misty Mountains, the Elven realms of Rivendell and Lorien, both of which I have never seen, only heard the tales. So many place Gwenneth, most of which I have never seen."

Peony took a breath and pushed her plate aside as Gwenneth had done a few minutes earlier. "But enough about that. I talk to much and I would much rather listen to your tales, milady."

[starkat]

Seeing Peony’s delight at her memories of Rohan, Gwenneth sighed, "One day I will make it to Rohan. It sounds like a wonderful place. You have been to so many places.”

“My father was born and raised in Rivendell. He took me there to visit when I was very young, but sadly I do not remember much.” Thinking hard, trying to recall, all she could bring to mind was a brief time of singing. “I was hoping to visit there as well.”

Smiling as she again recalled the day she parted from her family, “I have two brothers and a sister. All are older than me by several years. My brothers found wives on their journeys and have settled near the sea. My sister sailed from the Havens sometime ago. My parents still travel.”

“My main talents growing up seemed to be getting into trouble.” Laughing at herself, Gwenneth looked at Peony, “As I grew I became an excellent horsewoman and archer. When it was my turn to travel my brothers did not want me to go alone, but as I was skilled in defending myself, our parents let me go alone.”

Once again fingering the jewel around her neck Gwenneth continued, “My mother gave me this before I left. It is a tradition in my family that the one traveling wears it.” Struck with an idea Gwenneth turned to her companion, “You said you had a horse here, correct? Would you go on a ride with me this afternoon and show me around?”

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow was quite enjoying her breakfast, as was usual for a hobbit, when a woman happened by. Willow didn't recongnize her, but that was normal, as there was always new people in the area, and old people, that she didn't know by sight.

"Mind if I sit here?" the new-comer asked, a touch of brightness to her voice, and cheer.

Willow set her spoon down for a moment. "Oh no, not at all," she replied. "I'll finish eating here, if you don't mind." She smiled, and added, "I haven't ate since mid-afternoon yesterday, friend."

Willow dove back into her food, but, as she had been eating with much vigor, there was little left, and it took her a few minutes to clear her plate. She set the spoon, and knife over the plate, and pushed it aside, across the slightly stained wooden table. Just last night, Willow reflected, I was standing up on one of these tables, fiddling... with friends. She smiled faintly at the memory. "And who are you, and whereabouts are you from, friend?" she asked cheerfully. Her hunger was quenched, and no longer did it drive her to distraction. "I am Willow Overhill, of the North Moors," she added, in way of an introduction.

The sun peeked in through the windows as the day grew slightly later, and the tables were sunkissed with the brilliant light. The day would be fair indeed.

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

"Pleased to make your aquaintence, Willow," she replyed, delighted that someone was willing to talk to her, a stranger in an unfamiliar place. "I'm Farren, from along the road." This last sentence had come out rather awkwardly, as all introductions and explanations are apt to do, hanging in the air between the two women like a strange insect trapped in an eddy of air. "Well, what I mean to say is, I'm a traveler, so I'm really not from anywhere in particular."

Willow nodded wisely, indicating that this answer was not an uncommon one round these parts. Arranging her elbows on the table, the hobbit said, "We see a lot of people coming through here, and from all places."

"I surmised as much when I saw the company. Are you yourself a traveler, or do you live here in Hobbiton?" asked Farren, eager for a tale.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"I'm from the North Moors," Willow replied, an easy answer to an easy question. "I am pleased to meet you, Farren. A traveler. There are many of your type through here now." She smiled, the easy smile lighting her face, when she was friendly, indeed, she could be a fair person.

There was a wistful smile on Willow's face as she continued: "I don't travel much, yes, indeed, I have seen much of the Shire, but no where else. I am but a Hobbit, one of the Little Folk, as some would say. And even now, we still have our own world here, it's so different from everywhere else, or so I hear tell."

She spoke distantly, remembering things she had heard in the past, years ago. "When I was little," she began, "my father, my true father-- he died when I was still a tween-- he used to tell tales. He was a traveler, you see, a Brandybuck. My mother was from the North parts, which is where I grew up. But my father, before he married my mother, he used to travel a bit, even to Bree, and he would tell me things that he had seen in those far places." There was thrill in her eyes as she spoke of this, even though, to remember her parents, it hurt.

"My father brought my fiddle back from Bree," she said softly. "And when he died, before, that is, he gave it to my mother, and she to me. They were both very sick, I don't remember it well. But afterwards, when I was old enough, I chose to see the Shire, and then remained her, in Hobbiton afterwards. I've never traveled beyond Crickhollow."

There was a shining light in her eyes as she turned to Farren. "But tell me, what is it like to travel, to have no place to truly call home? I've always dreamed of such things, but what's a little Hobbit to do? I am happy here in Hobbiton now, but I still would love to hear of your travels!"

Willow smiled, and with her eagerness, showed her for the younger spirit that she had. Indeed, she was one of questions, once she had something to talk about, and Farren was someone to talk to. So she talked.

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

Willow finished the tale of her family, and turned towards Farren, eyes glittering brilliantly in the warm light. Farren felt guilty for causing her to relive painful events that she probably would have prefered to keep to herself. She swallowed and slowly said, "I'm sorry if I was prying, I surely did not intend to sadden you."

A smile, albiet a small and hesitant one, grew on Willow's face, as she replyed, "Really, it's fine. Don't be apologizing, but tell me about yourself, and tales of the road."

"You know how the stories say that travelling is exciting and dramatic? It's all a lie really. The most exciting thing that ever happened to me was camping near a lake in a lightning storm," said Ferran with a laugh, remembering how drenched she was, and how stupid she had been to pick that particular spot as a resting place when a storm was brewing. "I was born to the daughter of merchant on the coast, though I don't exactly know where. All I remember was the smell of the ocean, the salt and seaweed, and the crash of the waves on the rocks. We left that place and headed inland when I was barely a day over two years."

Ghostly images of the sun sinking into the waves, a ball of fire extinguised by cool water, days when the ocean was so still and clear that she could see down many fathoms, and watch crabs pick their way across a desert under the water, pursued by darting silver fish, flicking in and out of shadowed rocky nooks, hiding from half-imagined predators filled Farren's mind, putting her into sort of a trance, so that she barely heard when Willow asked her, "And when did you start traveling?"

Farren shrugged, coming out of her surreal nostalgia with a sort of jerk, her conciousness snapping back to the dusty warmth of the inn, and back to the voice of the hobbit sitting in front of her, chin in her hands. "A few years ago, when I was around 19, I think. I wandered around the wilds, tryed to find Rivendell, learned to ride a horse, and eventually made my way north, following tales of trees that could walk, though I never saw any. And when I came to your land," she nodded at Willow, "I didn't find and mythical creatures, but I decided to stay a while. So here I am today, talking to you."

[Kitanna]

"I do not know much of this place, but we can go out for a ride anyway and see what we can." Peony looked around for Deva. Probably still in bed. He wouldn't be up for hours.

"My silly companion. No matter how many naps he takes he still cannot rise before noon. He can be awfully lazy sometimes." She laughed to herself and shook her head.

Looking back at Gwenneth she smiled broadly. "Rivendell eh? I would love to see such a place. But you said you had only been there once, so then where were you born, Gwenneth?"