The Vineyard Tavern

[Imladris]

Finian strode back to the common room, wondering where his sister was. Hopefully she was only having a conversation with the plates and not under the impression that she was a bird and had the capability to fly. He ran his fingers through his hair and wished that there was some way he could keep an eye on her...she was always scurrying about, skulking about when she became this happy. Why couldn't she be ina normal mood more often.

The door bounced open and a short slender woman shouted, "Greetings," waving her hand furiously in the air.

Finian blinked. Usually guests would just slip in with the shadows, or stump in, shaking of their weariness for a good pint of ale and a good bit of news. Finian could see the other guests' heads swivel in her direction.

Vaulting over the counter, Finian darted down the room, bowed, and said, "And what may I do for you?"

[Nurumaiel]

Andhun sat uneasily at his table, unsure of what he should do now that Cynan was gone. He thought he might seek out Rochadan, but he did not know the lay of the Tavern and did not want to risk being lost, just in case his master was still about. Instead he betook himself to the window to watch for Rochadan, and at the same time he watched those who passed by the Tavern, gazing studiously into the face of each. His attention was directed especially to the face of every little girl, trying to decide if she were his sister or not. He remembered her only vaguely, for he did not remember very much from before the fire. Yet he had those vague memories.

When the door opened and a short woman with black hair came in, calling her greetings, and she temporarily caught Andhun's attention. It was drawn away very soon, however, for another woman entered the room, silent and reserved, but with a quick, bright eye and a firm bearing about her. Andhun started and blinked several times, for this woman was almost the perfect image of his mother. Indeed she was the perfect image, save that she was still very young, certainly no older than one-and-twenty. She called out no merry greetings but merriness flowed from her, just as with his mother, who had always been a quiet one but with a presence of cheer and good will. This young woman had, like his mother had, dark hair that was between black and brown, and soft, shining blue eyes that looked here and there with warmth, as if bestowing good wishes to all they rested upon. Her step was quick and lively, and she moved with confidence and grace. Her face was lightly freckled from the sun, but they were also rosy from some recent exercise. As she cast her glance across the room, taking it all in for thoughtful consideration (for it was always what Andhun's mother had done), her eyes fell upon Andhun, and she contemplated his burns and scars, and a cheery smile flashed upon her face, and she winked at him before moving on.

He watched her with emotions swelling up in his heart, and he felt the heat of tears rushing to his eyes and he tried to drive them away. He felt an intense longing to see his mother again, and to put his arms about her neck and feel her gentle kiss upon his head, and to look up at her and say, "Mamma." Was it only a year since the fire, since he had lost his home and family? Since then he had felt a harsh kick in the place of a mother's loving embrace. The tears would not be held back, and so he let his head sink to the table so no one could see that he wept. If his mother were there she would take him and hold him and say, "Hush, my little darling, and don't cry. What have you to weep for, blessed as you are?"

A gentle hand ran through his hair, a tender arm went about his shoulders, and his head was pulled from the table and he was held close to someone. "Hush there, darling, hush," a soft voice said, and as he looked up in amazement his eyes met with eyes like his mother's. The young woman sat beside him, and with her apron she dried his tears, and then held out her hand to him, which was full of little sweets. "I do not know if it will be a comfort to you to eat them," she said, "but I do not doubt it would give you great pleasure to keep them with you and give them to whomsoever you choose." Andhun smiled at this, took the sweets, and put them in his pockets, and looked up at her once again. "Now," she said with no little degree of satisfaction, seeing that she had cheered him at least a little, "what was the cause of your grief?"

"I was just being foolish," he said, "and crying for my mother, who has been dead for some time now."

"Foolish?" The young woman with no little surprise. "It's never foolish, m'dear, to weep for your mother. Isn't she the one closest to the heart of every young boy? So don't be ashamed of that, or think yourself foolish, or any other such nonsense." She smiled in a bright way at him, and then spoke again, saying, "My name is Eacwen, and I will be staying at the Tavern for a little while at least. I do hope we can be friends."

"Certainly we may!" Andhun cried with strong feeling. "And I will introduce you to all those who have been kind to me at the Tavern so they may also be kind to you. My name is Andhun."

[Esgallhugwen]

Thalinar took the clothes that Ædhral had thrust at him, he ensured her that they would fit as he fumbled with his towel. She lowered her haze trying to hide her ever reddening cheeks.

He was about to apologize for yet another embarrassing situation when the clothes slipped from his grasp, he reached out for them as did the young maiden and their heads met with a smack and a hard landing on their behinds. Thalinar's luck held out and he was able to keep the towel in check, barely.

He steadied his gaze to Ædhral who was rubbing her sore head across from him, twice in one day and with the same girl, he wished to get out of this humiliating situation.

I should have stayed in the river.

He thought to himself coldly and stood up from the wooden floor, he clutched his towel tightening it around his waist and gave Ædhral his hand and pulled her up from the floor, he then stooped down and scooped up the dry clothes.

His head started to throb from the impact. "I must say that I am truly sorry, for both incidents, I had no intention to cause you harm or discomfort. Thank you again for the clothes it was very kind of you" he smiled weakly but warmly and closed the door to his room.

He sighed deeply and began to dress himself in the dry clothes, everything was a perfect fit. Thalinar was all too thankful for that, it would mean he could avoid another potentially uneasy situation that he would rather not have.

And if it could be helped he would try to stay in his room for as long as possible. He opened up the window and sat next to it with his goblet of wine in hand.

[Nerindel]

As soon as the door closed Ædhral fled down the stairs, across the common room and into the kitchen, her cheeks still burning and breathing heavily she slumped down on the nearest chair throwing her head into her hands. “Oh! Cook I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life!” cook took her head from the oven were she was checking a batch of biscuits she was baking, to look up at her young assistant.

“Now what is this all about?” she asked closing the oven door and wiping her hands on her apron as she walk over to were Ædhral was sitting, sitting on a chair next to her she took the young woman’s hands, forcing her to look up. Ædhral told cook about the guest and the embarrassing situations she twice found herself in.

“How will I be able to face him again, I do not even know his name!” she sighed disheartedly.

“Oh my dear I am sure everything will be alright,” Cook comforted, “You will probably find that our guest is just as embarrassed as you are!”

“Perhaps your right,” Ædhral smiled weakly.

“Off course I’m right, I’m always right,” cook winked, “Just count yourself lucky that Finnian had not witnessed the whole towel slipping affair, he would be in fits all day!” the older woman laughed,

When Ædhral thought of it that way it did seem rather amusing, she could not help but laugh imagining the roaring laughter and mirthful glint in Finnian’s eyes, so like his father was he at such times that she almost forgot how very young he was and how much responsibility he had taken on rebuilding the inn. Her embarrassment now seemed such a frivolous thing in comparison.

“Now that is the Ædhral we all know and love!” Cook smiled, “Not that sad and unhappy thing who was here just a moment ago, come child there is luncheon to be served and it won‘t serve itself.” she winked jovially.

Nodding Ædhral rose, a broad smile on her lips and her embarrassment for the moment forgotten. She watched cook as they made the final preparations for lunch, for all the woman’s bluster, she was a kind-hearted soul and for that Ædhral was thankful.

Before long Ædhral was again her warm and cheerful self, floating about the inn helping Kannah to serve the soup that was that day’s lunch, the merry elven tune again on her lips as nimbly balanced the soup bowls in her arms.

[Imladris]

Ærosylle crawled under the tables, slowing making her way towards the stairs. "I am sorry for stepping on you," she whispered to the floor boards. "But you were made to be stepped on see, so you oughn't become angry that I am stepping on you. And don't you dare say that I tread heavier than I should," she added angrily.

A board creaked beneath her knee. Ærosylle froze then slowly shifted, putting her ear to the board. Her eyes flitted to the right and to the left as she listened to the plank's wooden whispers.

"Of course you didn't feel the elf," she muttered. "He is an elf and I am a human. He's a good deal lighter than I."

She tossed her head and continued her her turtlish way towards the stairs. Suddenly Ædhral flew down the stairs, her cheeks crimson, a look of mortified embarrassment on her face.

The bottom stair screeched as her foot landed on him and Ærosylle folled the maid with her eyes as she disappeared into the kitchen. "Yes, I too would give a good deal to know what her hurry is," she said vaguely, patting the stair on the back. With a slight shrug, Ærosylle crawled to the top of the stairs and said, "I wonder where the elf has gotten to...I would like to see more of him, you know. I've never seen an elf before.."

She went towards the eastern door because the floor had told her that the room facing towards the west was empty. Freezing in front of the door she listened. She could hear water splash and a soft murmuring. "He is freshening up," she whispered. "Do you mind if I lean against you?" she asked the wall, stroking the sanded wood. "Thank you."

[Chathol-linn]

The green-clad woman bowed in return to the man who approached her. She guessed at once that he was the proprietor; he had both an apron and a sense of authority, of belonging with the tavern. Seregon wished she had her own place, her own apron, and her own sense of belonging.

Oh, well. First things first. “Master Innkeeper, my name is Seregon. I would trouble you for a drink of water, if I may, and a confession. For I came over your back yards yonder and climbed your apple tree. While there I glimpsed a merry show through the chamber’s window, though I did not mean to spy. Who was that pretty maid and the half-clad stranger? And I ate one of your apples. I was so hungry it was like a feast, although a little on the green side.”

“What is my business in Laketown? Well, threefold. My sisters and I heard of the great undertaking to rebuild the town. We wished to have a part in it. With no dragon around, Laketown can be the best place to live in Middle-earth! Then, we have been followed for two days. Being weaponless, we thought we should find a haven, the sooner the better. I do not know who followed, but if it was a beast, it will run from a settlement.

“Finally, we can go no further. We used up our last provisions yesterday. But now we are here, and we have a plan to achieve our desires. Will you just direct me to your Lawspeaker or Mayor or what have you? For we wish to take up residence in one of those unused fields outside of town, with permission. We are from a farming clan and know how to produce the most delicious food.

“Now this is a lot to speak of on first acquaintance and may be you’ll want to take your measure of me. By your leave I will sit among your guests for a while.”

With that Seregon sat – collapsed, really - on the bench next to a young lad with a sad face. Poor lad, she thought, the world should be kinder to children. But then she felt only weariness. She could sleep standing up. Her head nodded. Her eyes had to close.

Just a nap, she thought. With that Seregon slipped onto the Path of Dreams. Her nap did not last long however. Just as the innkeeper was backing away from the sleeping woman, she jumped up with a yelp. “Something grabbed my leg! Something touched my boot! Does your inn have ghosts, sir?”

[Imladris]

It is now noon at the Tavern. A lunch of soup (veggies, left over meat, maybe a bit of barley) and tough wheat bread is being served along with wine or ale, depending on the customers preference.

It is sunny, with a wisps of clouds that scurry before a brisk breeze.

[Eruantalon]

Noticing the sweet notes that lingered once again throw the tavern he listened. He was welling up with the memories now. He had to ask her for what purpose she had sang these melodies?

Moving closer he noticed she was busy tending to her choirs for the tavern. She noticed his approach and smile. He asked her plainly as he could. “What purpose does singing this particular song have good lady?”

“If you aren’t the one I am looking for then in the end you may be of some help.’ Opening his cloak to reveal the shining on his chest. Giving her a hint at the Armour beneath. Showing her the crest of Gondor on his chest.

“I can not reveal this secret to anyone good lady. But you are singing a song I once sang myself. When I was coming back from a place, I think, that you know?”

Getting down on his knees to meet her in plain sight eye to eye now. He looked at her carefully. “You look like the daughter of some one I knew…if you are her you might be able to help me?”

Mayhap these questions can be answered when you are less busy. Pay mind that I am a patient sort. And that I can wait my turn till your work is done. I will await your answers. As you await mine.

[Imladris]

Ærosylle cocked her head at the elf and replied, "I was listening to the door." She nodded solemnly. "He was telling me you were busy...I came up here for I have never seen an elf before." Her lips curled into a grin.

The elf blinked back at her.

"Do you know why Finian put you in this room?" the girl asked her saucer eyes revolving around the walls where the noon day sun was just slipping away.

The elf shook his head.

"It is because you look so sad and solemn all the time and because he has heard rumours of your kind leaving to the western lands. The east is a new beginning. The west is an ending."

~~~~~~~~

Finian

"I have never stayed in a tavern before. You will give me a roof over my head? And board as well? I am in your debt, sir," said Seregon, bowing.

Finian blinked at her. "Well...what else would I do?" he asked, arching a brow as his face broke into a mischievous grin. "Fine Innkeeper I would make, making you sleep in some old stubby field." He winked at her. "How about a glass of the finest wine to celebrate your job? Hopefully by then my sister will have shown up somewhere..."

He led the way into the pantry and, after a minute or two of serious deliberation, selected a bottle that was relatively new, fetched a small glass, poured the red wine, gave it to Seregon, and said, "Drink up!"

[Imladris]

Let me introduce myself: I am Goldwine, Prince of cats. Some have made the opprobrious howler of presuming to think that I am of the female persuasion, but let me hasten to assure you that that is definitely not the case.

Some of you may remember me as the feline of auriferous fur with bisque saucers that have the apotheosis to serve as eyes. Some may conjure anamneses of how I glided in monarchical effulgence. Those few who do remember must now be marveling at how they find me here.

Well, my vassals, you must understand that in this fascinating world, magic can and does, happen. Thus here I am, to bathe you with my ochroidness, to be a delectation to your ocular lobes.

Is that a bit succulent muscle I insufflate? And -- horrors -- as well as quiescent, cloying, macabre, repugnant, vile, vulgar sprouts that dare call themselves aliment? I wrinkle my nose at it...but, I can pick around the vulgar stuff I daresay.

What's this? A maid is taking the pot off the fire...Joys! She's serving it!

[Esgallhugwen]

As they walked hand in hand down the stairs to the common room Thalinar lowered his head and kept close to the shaded places, mostly corners. A single nod of his head sent the young girl off towards the kitchen to fetch some bowls of hot stew.

Thalinar shook his head, disgraced by the actions he had to take to see that he wouldn't end up confronting the maiden, Ædhral, again. Ærosylle flitted back to him as fast as she had left, like some Fairy in a children's story Thalinar thought amusingly, she seemed to have that way about her.

"Why do you hide?", the question was innocent enough, but Thalinar was bothered by it none the less. He looked at her wearily and sighed. Gratefully taking the hot bowl of stew from her, "perhaps we should sit over there first", he looked across the room at the far corner, she turned and nodded her head.

They walked casually over to the table, Thalinar keeping a look out for Ædhral, and Ærosylle tip-toeing around the 'grumpy' board. Finally when they sat down he looked at the girl and smiled weakly, "I'm afraid that its a rather embarassing story...."

[Beserker_Warrior]

Umaviel walked into the Vineyard Inn looking for a nice cool drink of wine. He had travelled a long way to get here.Umaviel was 7,000 years old, a great warrior of the Sindarin elves and he was once a lord of Gondolin. Umaviel was a tall, kingly looking elf from Rivendell with long black hair. He had come here because had heard that the Goblins of the Misty Mountains were coming this way.This strange news was told to him by Gwahir, Lord of the Eagles of the Misty Mountains.Elrond had advised that he should try to find out as much as possible about the movement of the goblins. Umaviel did not doubt Elrond and so he went.

The inn was located near Laketown. It seemed nice and joyous though not nearly as nice as Rivendell. "Innkeeper, I would like a pint of wine please," said Umaviel. He needed this because it was a chilly day outside and the wine would raise his spirits." There you go. What brings you here, we don't get many of the fair folk here anymore?" replied the innkeeper. " I am here to find out the truth in rumors that I have been hearing of about the goblins of the Misty Mountains. Supposedly they are on the move." answered Umaviel. "Thank you for the wine," with this Umaviel turned and walked to a table on the far side of the inn.

[Nerindel]

Stoney’s soup was good if not a little too spicy for Ædhral. The others seemed to enjoy it immensely, especially cook, which could only be a good sign. She let Rochadan try hers that he too could offer his opinion. “Hmm very good!” he said nodding his head in approval. A knowing smile meant only for Ædhral spread across the stable masters prominent features, he knew she had not the taste for spicy foods, but also did he know that she would not say so. Especially with the proud and elated smile of satisfaction beaming on the dwarves face and he was right! With an ever pleasant smile and a nod of her dark head she thanked Stoney for the soup and told him that she was sure the customers of the tavern would be glad of such a warm and hearty soup after a hard day’s toil.

The conversation over lunch was a mixed affair with several different discussions going on at once, beginning with Stoney relating how he came to be in Esgaroth? and that he did indeed come from the lonely mountains. Then he and Nell discussed the tavern, the town and food in particular the cooking of, with Finian and Rochadan adding their comments here and there were they saw appropriate. Ædhral however had the attention of Sallie as she told her eagerly of Andhun’s singing and the song of the young woman Rochadan had brought to their table, Earcwen had sung for them, but after a time the stable masters daughter became sleepy and nestled herself into her fathers lap leaving him to pick up a conversation with Earcwen.

Ædhral sat back and listened watching the faces of her friends as they enjoyed each others company. When living with her grandfather before the destruction of lake town she had often wondered what it was like to be part of a large family and now as she sat watching her friends she thought she knew, this was her family and she was happy to be a part of it and share in their lives. A warmth of contentment settled over her heart which showed in the warmth of her smile and the twinkle in her eye, but as she looked over her family she noted that two where missing. Kannah and Ærosylle! Suddenly awakened from her reverie she sat up straight.

“You must excuse me, for Kannah has been on her own too long and will be most aggrieved that she has yet not been introduced to our dwarven friend.” she said nodding politely as she quickly excused herself.

“Wait I will come with you!” Finian said wiping the last of his bread across the bottom of his bowl and popping it hastily into his mouth as he rose. “Excellent!” he murmured again for about the fifth time as he licked his fingers and followed her into the common room.

Reaching the bar Finian drew her a mug of cider and slide it across the counter to her a mischievous glint coming to his dark eyes, “why did you not just tell him that it was too spicy for you, you know you will have to tell him sometime if he is to know?” he grinned as she took the mug and washed away the burning still in her throat. “I know” she smiled “But he just looked so pleased, I did not have the heart to tell him.” Finian just laughed and shook his head “I do not think he would be offended you know!” he said as he picked up a cloth and wiped the top of the counter. “Ok, ok, I will tell him later!” she laughed seeing that she would not hear the end of it if she did not, then sliding the empty mug back at him with a jovial wink she turned and began collecting the empty mugs and dishes of the taverns guests, leaving the innkeeper to usher Kannah and Ærosylle if he could find her off to the kitchen.