The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[starkat]

Gwenneth had not been amidst sucha flower garden since leaving home. The young elf was taking her time going through the flowers before choosing ones for her boquets. She smiled to herself as she worked. I know Ginger only suggested one, but I think that the Cook might enjoy a small surprise. I hope it is ok.

The young elf maid felt a momentary flash of nervousness. When she saw the next group of flowers, her butterflies disappeared. "Ginger!" she called. The flowers before her were unfamilier to her. They were beautiful though.

[Gird]

The now disheveled man watched as the actual inn keeper showed up. The hobbit that had been talking to him had now forgotten his presence completely. This might be good for now. As his first attempt at outright taking over the inn had well... not gone so well, he thought it best to lay low for a while. The hobbit leader, or the one that talked proper, had gathered the innkepper Aman in close and they started conversing in hushed voices. Interesting. The man thought to himself, and he leaned in close to the huddle to try and figure out what was going on.

What he got from the bit of the conversation was that the proper one was an official of some position in the Shire, and that he had been sent here to catch a felon of some sort. He glanced over theirshoulders and caught a glimpse of a letter, just enough to get what he wanted; a name. Tobias Hornblower.

The man stood up as quickly and inconspicuously as he could. <i>This 'criminal' could be of use for me in my schemes of domination. He must be quite cunning to have subversed capture thus far. And his acts must have been quite notorious to have the Thain's men out to arrest him.</i>

"Well, I'll be minding my own business passively now." he said to no one in particular, but as to cover up what he was scheming.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree didn't know what to say. Fáinu had caused so much of her troubles and yet she still went back to him. She didn't know what else to do. "Fáinu, I will not hearken you to do anything. I have to do things myself and I have to realize that even with you here I am alone. I can't stop what is happening to me. There is no way possible that I know of. My curse shall not become yours. If you choose to leave and not turn back that is fine. I will only move on with what ever life I have left." Cree had no-idea what she was saying. Nothing actually matter anymore.

Avalon is gone and I only now have to worry about everything else. Fáinu can't help me anymore. He never could help me. Cree sat there remembering the past. "Fáinu, do you remember the day you saved my life. It seems so long ago." Her voice seemed warmer than usual. A smile finally appeared on her face. "Fáinu, I'm sorry for what I have done to you. I should have let you leave when you wanted to. I'm not going to "force" you to stay here with me."

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger paused in her weeding. The warm sun and the heavy scents from the herbs had begun to tickle at her nose. She rubbed it on the back of her hand willing the sensation to go away. In her rush to get up and dressed and off to her work, she’d forgotten to pack a hanky in her apron pocket. For a moment, she considered using the underside of he apron, as her brothers sometimes did with the tails of their shirts. But she could just see her mother’s horrified face and hear her admonishment. ‘Ginger! Young ladies do not do such things! What would your Gammer say?!’

Well to be quite honest, Ginger thought, Gammer would probably be more practical. ‘Be discrete, my dear. And just remember next time to bring a hanky.’ Turning her back so that no one could see her, Ginger made a quick swipe at her nose with her upturned apron. She was about to pick up her little hand trowel when she heard Gwenneth calling from the front flower patches.

Ginger stood, brushing the dirt from her knees and shook the loose soil from the edges of her skirt. with a quick step she hurried to where her friend was working among the bright zinnias that poked up in clumps here and there.

‘Did you need something?’ she asked, kneeling down where Gwenneth was.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman took the scroll from the oily, pompous hobbit and unfolded the perfumed parchment carefully, her eyes narrowing as she did so. As soon as she read the first line, her heart skipped a beat.

One Tobias Hornblower, Hobbit man of Longbottom in the Southfarthing, formerly a respectable figure, is now to be regarded as a criminal...
Tobias Hornbloer...a criminal...

Aman's eyes flitted down the page as another word caught her eyes, scanning briefly the text, until she came to the acts commited - acts so vile that they would merit death in any part of the United Kingdom under Elessar's rule. The Innkeeper looked over the parchment at Fescue, finding it suddenly a little hard to breathe. The hobbit seemed unsure of what to do and tentatively laid a hand on her arm. She could feel Snaveling's complete stillness behind her, his head still near hers as he read the parchment. She did not need the elvish bond of mind-sharing to know what he was thinking.

"Amanaduial, are you quite well?"

Aman forced herself to calm down as her mind spun quickly. She regained her composure and sat down carefully in a chair pulled out by one of the other two hobbits. "Yes...yes, thank you, Mr. Bracegirdle. I...well, to know that an individual of such a criminal calibre was loose around the Shire..." she fanned herself with a hand, and gave into temptation as she shot a look of panic at Snaveling.

Surprisingly, Spurge, slow-witted as he may have been, picked up on this. He cleared his throat officiously and leant forward towards Aman, his face now at her level. "Do you...know of this individual, Miss Amanaduial?"

The rememberance of ten gold coins burned in Aman's mind, and her heart nearly stopped but she didn't show it, shaking her head slowly, thoughtfully, opening her eyes wide. "Well, with so many folk flowing through our establishment every day, folks of all sorts, I can't say I recognise the name...Hornblower, you say? Well, to be sure, it is a fine and respectable family name, there are several Hornblowers who have graced the Green Dragon..."

Fescue chest swelled out as he drew himself up to his full, if rather diminiutive height, and shook his head regretfully, his little stick of office clutched pompously by his side. "A fine name indeed, a fine name indeed - to have one so vile drag it through the mud in such a way."

"Are you quite sure this fellow is indeed the perpetrator?"

Snaveling's voice was soft and impassive as he asked the question, but there was something unnerving in it that two of the hobbits picked up. Fescue, though, was determined not to be at all intimidated, and indeed Snaveling's dark face was utterly emotionless, displaying only mild interest - even if his eyes flashed a different message. The hobbit officer-in-law turned to the man and indignantly indicated the scroll in Aman's limp hand. "The Thain himself sent a decree, sir - that which stands for all the authority in the Shire!"

Aman nodded slowly again. "I see...I just...well, I don't understand how such a criminal can have got so out of hand! I do think I recognise the name...short, fellow, dark hair, shifty mannerisms?" Fescue didn't appear to notice that Aman had simply used the description entailed in the scroll and nodded eagerly. All three hobbits leant forward in anticipation.

"Aye, I remember - but he hasn't been here for a good six months at least!"

The trio fell back, disappointed. Aman sighed regretfully. "Sorry not to be able to help, there, but I don't suppose he would be coming back here any time soon - I refused repeatedly to buy some pipe-weed from him and he stormed out in a most...stormy mood," she concluded, uninspirationally. She gave a dramatic, mock-shudder. "Oh, to think he was here, under my very roof-!"

Fescue made to lay his hand on her shoulder but a thankful but sharp glance from the Innkeeper made him withdraw his paw carefully. He cleared his throat, but Aman spoke first, determination set on her features. "Such individuals cannot be allowed to run amock around the Shire - murderers, traitors and the like will never enter this most respectable establishment, of that you have my word! Not while such fine gentlefolk as you are around, I'm sure..." Fescue blushed at the compliments and he and his assosiated shuffled their feet nervously. Aman rose briskly and turned to Snaveling openly.

"Master Snaveling, would you be so kind as to fetch the stablemaster, Mister Longfellow? You know, the old hobbit chap standing in for Meriadoc..." Snaveling nodded in recognition, his face straight as he understood her meaning. "I need to speak to him about this matter, in my study as soon as possible - imagine if he was to get into our stables, and cause chaos among the horses! Let Cook know as well."

Find Toby quickly. Bring him to my study. Cook is to know of the gentlehobbit's plight and is not on any circumstances to give him away.

Snaveling nodded once and slipped away like a shadow. Fescue watched his back nervously, then turned back to Aman, giving her a small bow that he no-doubt thought suave and elegant. "You are a fine keeper of this Inn, no doubt about that!"

Aman nodded and straightened her skirt, her fluster not entirely acted. Straightening her hair out of habit, she motioned towards one of the corner tables: it was set near the fire but in a slight enclave of it's own, a cosy, isolated corner included by Regin Hardhammer, the dwarf in charge of restoration when the Inn was half burnt down. She was now doubly glad for Regin's thoughtfullness, even if the dwarf himself could not have foreseen the circumstances: although the corner, which seemed rather grander with it's warmth, isolation and large side window, afforded the best view of all newcomers to the Inn through the front door, it was also set slightly into the wall so that the kitchen could not be seen without leaning around and deliberately looking for it, and the entrance to Aman's study was pretty much completely out of the sightline. If Tobias was to come in through the kitchen door and slip into Aman's office quickly along that side wall behind the bar, the chances of him being seen, although existant, were very slim.

Aman set a smile on her face and led the hobbit's to their table calmly. "Will you take some food, gentlemen? You must be tired after all that riding..."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"I do not wish to leave," said Fáinu tilting his head, "I went to find out some news before. With little luck I might add." He smiled; he had never been the best at getting news. Cree was not amused; she had too much on her mind.

Rising up, Fáinu collected their empty mugs. "Care for another?" he asked, Cree shook her head. Fáinu shrugged and went to the bar. He came back with a filled mug of ale. Sitting down he saw how deep in thought Cree was. There was defiantly something she was hiding, perhaps she had found something on her travels that disturbed her.

"Dragons?" came a cry form an old Hobbit at a near by table, "as some one once said, theres only one dragon in bywater and that’s green... or something like that." Fáinu jumped at the word "Dragons", Cree smirked.

"No, the memory will never go," he mumbled to himself, "How can it if it is burned deep in my heart?" Cree was looking at him again. He knew she'd either decided something, or had something important to say. He looked at her expectantly.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

What has the old fool gone and got himself into this time? Snaveling’s mind hurried through this and any number of other pressing questions like it as he rushed across the yard to the stables. Stupid old hobbit! he thought angrily, how could you have let it get to this point? Why didn’t you tell me your troubles last night when we could have done something about it?

He burst into the stables causing a general uproar amongst the horses and cast about hissing Toby’s name between his teeth. He was muttering now as well. “Ridiculous, foolish, gad-headed, numbskull” and on with more epithets than he had even thought he knew. So furious was he that he did not stop to think of the effects of his litany on his friend. The first few stalls he looked in were bare of the hobbit, and Snaveling began to fear that with no empty spaces Toby might have done something truly ridiculous and attempted to hide somewhere just outside the Inn or, worse, that he had made off entirely. Startled by the idea, he swung about and made to run to the gate to call up the road when Aman’s new horse snickered at him and bit the sleeve of his tunic. “Not now,” he began but the look the horse gave him was so clear that without another word he vaulted over the low gate of the stall and pushed past the creature to see a pair of dirty breeches protruding from between the rails into the next stall. Grabbing at the patched socks about an elderly pair of ankles, he hauled the fugitive Tobias Hornblower back into the hay demanding as he did so, now really furious, “Just where in the name of the King do you think you are going Tobias?”

The poor hobbit slumped to the ground and stared at the tall Man with quivering eyes. His nose twitched like a rat’s scenting danger on the wind, and for a terrible moment it looked as though he really might cry for the shame of his circumstances. Snaveling was immediately overcome with regret and smoothing out his countenance he kneeled down before his friend and placed his hand upon his shoulder. “I am sorry to have yelled at you Toby, but I am very concerned. I am sure you know what Aman and I have just learned from the officers, but you must know too that we don’t believe a word of it. Aman is in there right now keeping them busy with food and drink, and I am to bring you to her study where we can all talk and decide what to do next.” Toby’s mouth opened and closed, twice, as he tried to take this in. Snaveling smiled in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “Come,” he said standing and holding out his hand to help up the elderly hobbit.

But Toby just shook his head violently from side to side. “No no no,” he said quickly, “I cannot; I cannot face Aman, not now, not after what I’ve done. And you, when you know the truth you won’t be so happy to know me. You think you can trust me, that I’ve innocent of all the charges, but you don’t know, you can’t. Why don’t you just go on back and let me be. I’ll be fine. I can lay low until dark and then just slip away.”

“Absolutely not!” Snaveling said firmly. “And that’s settled. I am going to help you, my old friend, as you once helped me. Do you not remember my crimes? Nothing you have done could surpass them, and yet I was shown forgiveness and justice. You shall have the same – I swear it, by all the power that is mine to wield. Though it is not much, I have yet some potency. And as for money, if it is a matter that can be settled with gold or silver, I am well enough supplied with both.” He took Toby by the hand and hauled him upright. “Now you old rogue, let us get to Aman’s study, and let us hope that your countrymen will be too distracted by the delights of the Dragon to notice us!”