The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[starkat]

Pulling Elenath to a stop, Gwenneth thought for a minute. I wonder which way to go. I haven't seen much of the Shire at all.

Realizing that she had been quiet for a couple of minutes, she looked at Peony and said, "Any direction would be great." The two of them headed off on the nearest path.

[Firefoot]

"Lily! Willow! Good morning to you both!" Lily grinned at the familiar voice. Willow waved her over and spoke Lily's exact thoughts before she had time to speak: "Good afternoon is more like it, Mirabell Baggins!" Lily never could understand how other people could sleep so late. She was an early riser by nature, and almost always rose shortly after the sun even after a late night. And to think Daisy is still asleep! It's almost noon already, Lily thought with a glance outside. She frowned briefly noting the clouds on the horizon. It was such a beautiful morning, too. Out loud, she commented, "Well, that's three of us hobbit girls. Wonder where Daisy went."

"Yeah. I do wonder. It's nice to be with friends. So where were we?" Willow asked. Friends, thought Lily. Yes, friends. It seemed strange that she could spend less than a day with people and consider them friends, yet that was how she felt about the three hobbits she had spent last night with. She was feeling much more open with them than she had felt last night. She wasn't quite sure about Ferran yet, but Lily had an open mind.

"Hobbies," answered Lily after a moment. "And as to your question concerning writing, I prefer to read. In Bree, I would often spend hours with a good book from my uncle's library. He has several books, but never enough. My reading is one of the things that caused me to decide to explore, so I figured I had better start with the Shire." She ended with a soft sigh of happiness remembering the many wonderful stories adorning the shelves of her uncle's library. Her favorites had always been the ones about far lands and old heroes and valiant deeds, but those were the hardest to come by. Maybe she would find more if she decided to travel farther than the Shire. She hoped so.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu was shocked at Isaac's response. She didn't know what else to say. She couldn't bear the thought of it anymore. She turned to Isaac. "It was only a few years ago. We were traveling through Eryn Lasgalen. I know I told you there was no trees but there was. When we got to Fangorn Forest he disapeared. We was on our way back with a few supplies from my homeland." Adu lost all contempt in her voice. It was as if all she was, was a hollow shell with a voice. Adu motioned Isaac to follow her to where Count was.

"A few days later I found his horse and sword. The only reason that was found is because they were tied to a tree." Adu went on telling Isaac about how she had returned to Rohan companionless. "No one has traveled with me since." Adu had always been told that she was cursed with all her companions deathes. She didn't know what else to do.

Count was happy to see her. Yet it looked like Count didn't know what to think of Isaac. Adu placed her hand on Counts neck and began stroking his mane. Adu turned to look at Isaac who seemed startled. She didn't know what was wrong. "Isaac whats wrong with you? Count isn't going to hurt you." Her words didn't seem to reach Isaac. Adu snapped her elvish fingers but nothing happened. To her it seemed like he was in some sort of trance. Adu had neve been around someone like this before. She tried shaking him but nothing happened. "What do I do now?"

[Archsage Isaac]

I remember... everything. It's as clear as if it happened yesterday. Adu and I were traveling through Eryn Lasgalen when we were seperated. I had only left her side for a second. I tied my horse to a tree near the path and then pointed my sword in the direction I was going. I was attacked by that beast and knocked unconscious. But how did I kill it? How could I have, I was unconscious! Isaac's eyes were trained on a spot between Adu and Count. His amnesia was gone, but he was still as confused now as he ever was. Without warning he quickly reached and took hold of Adu's hands, slightly shocking her.

"Adu, I can remember the forest as clearly as if it were yesterday. The scents, the sounds, the sights. Everything. I still don't remember anything else though. Perhaps if you told me more then my latent memories will resurface, that is if you
don't mind helping me..." he said, still with that pleading look in his eyes. He was much to proud to say it, but he needed to remember and he needed her help in doing so.

[piosenniel]

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[Mad Baggins]

"Hobbies, eh?" said Mira. "Well, I love to read. And play my flute, of course. Riding my pony is lovely as well. I love riding in the morning; the way the sun gently warms the grass, melting the frost and lifting it away from the tender blades. The birds awake slowly, filling the air with soft chirps and sweet melodies; the sky becomes a magnificent, brilliant blue. Riding in the morning and watching the world wake up..." she trailed off, her blue eyes staring off into space dreamily.

Willow touched her shoulder gently, saying, "Mira? Wake up, Mira."

Mira shook herself out of her reverie, smiling at her comrades. "Sorry...sometimes I become lost in my thoughts. Where were we? Ah, yes, hobbies. You say your uncle has a library, Lily? I love reading all sorts of different books. What is your favourite? Mine has to be Far-Away Tales. It is quite a beautiful book; full of wonder and excitement."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

An uncharacteristically genuine smile came across Snaveling’s face at the mere thought of an attempt to claim the throne of Gondor as his own. He chuckled in a manner that was almost merry as he reassured Aman, “I do not intend to challenge the King, my friend.” He suddenly saw himself before the throne of the King, flanked on all sides by Elessar’s doughtiest warriors and the splendour of his court, and he saw himself hurling a challenge at the King and demanding that the Man who reigned in Minas Tirith step down from thence and yield to Snaveling of the Hunting Folk. His chuckle became a laugh, and his head fell back against the chair in his mirth as he contemplated the picture he had created for himself. When he looked back at Aman he could see confusion and amusement in her eye, so he explained what had made him laugh.

Aman smiled in turn to hear Snaveling describe the scene of his threatening. “Indeed,” she said, “I did not ask if you meant to challenge the King with any hope that you might succeed. But there are those yet in the world who would flock to the banner of one descended from last King of Númenór – although I doubt that you would find any of them to be trustworthy allies.”

“I am still learning of such matters,” Snaveling replied lightly, “so I will take your word for the truth and good sense that I know it to be. But I have yet to answer your true question, although you took care not to ask it as bluntly as perhaps it needs to be: why can I not keep my secret? There are two answers to that. The first is that there are already at least three people who know – Roa, Galadel and Toby. Roa is bound by her oaths and her duty to reveal what she has learned to her lord, and I would not ask her to deny those oaths, even if I thought there was a chance that she would. Galadel is an Elf and thus I do not know what she will do with the knowledge – but you can be sure that if it is a weighty matter she will take it to those among her kin who yet remain in Middle-Earth who possess the wisdom she deems necessary, and they will take counsel on the matter. As for Toby,” and here he smiled again, “I doubt not that if I asked the rogue to keep my secret he would…for as long as he could. Wine or age or forgetfulness would loosen his already infirmly fastened tongue and he would spread the tale of his friend the True King of Númenór to the patrons of the Inn. No, Aman, I am afraid that it is impossible to keep this as a secret now.”

Aman took this all in with a nod. She paused for a moment before speaking carefully. “You said that there were two answers to my question.”

Snaveling settled back into his chair with a sigh. “Yes,” he said slowly, “the second answer.” The sounds of people gathering in the Common Room mingled with the birdsong that came through the open window of Aman’s private lounge. Snaveling noted for the first time how different this room appeared in daylight. No longer was it the close and faintly foreboding place that it had seemed the night before, when it had been the scene of his confrontation with Aman. In a way, it seemed smaller in the light – certainly, much less threatening. The furniture, before solid and dark, was now comfortable and well-made. It occurred to the Man that perhaps the change had not been in the room, but in himself…

“The second answer,” he said again slowly as he fingered his amulet. He stood suddenly and strode to the window and stood there, looking out at the dawn of a new day as though he understood what it meant. “That’s a more difficult answer to explain, but I shall try. All my life I thought I knew precisely who and what I was – and what life was like and what my place should be in it. I had my dreams, but I never really believed in them; not in the way that people with a home and a safe place to call their own can believe in their dreams. But now I find that perhaps I am not the person I thought I was – that perhaps, just perhaps, I am more than that lonely Man who stumbled into this Inn all those weeks ago, with naught but malice in his heart and a gnawing hunger in his belly.” He turned to face Aman, and his eyes blazed with a cold flame. “I do not wish to deny who I am, not any longer. I may find the price of my new self-knowledge to be high, but I shall not shirk from the debt I owe my ancestors. I do not make any claim upon the throne of Gondor – but I will demand recognition from the one sits upon it.”

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

As the conversation meandered through the topic of hobbies, Farren felt a tad lost among the hobbits, until books were mentioned. Farren was on friendly terms with books, an imagined comrade to the heroes and next door neighbors, thrust into adventures that would ordinarily be out of the question. The transmutation of simple black ink into palaces of marble and ivory, creatures of unspeakable terror and sweeping vistas of unspeakable beauty was entrancing. "I love to read," said Farren abruptly, feeling that one of her favorite topics did not deserve to linger on the tip of her tongue, unspoken and soon forgotten.

"Really?" said Mira enthusiastically. "What kind of books do you like to read?"

"Anything is fair game, though poetry is a bit beyond me," replyed Farren, chuckling a bit as she remembered trying to get through a volume of particularly dull verse, becoming so bored that she had found herself reading the same line for the third time. "I have to say though that fairy tales are some of my favorites."