The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

Tolly’s expression changed from one of delighted thanks to one of confusion. Cook had begun to laugh, first at his mistaking her for one of the servers, and second for calling her ‘Miss’. ‘I’d be delighted,’ she said stifling back another chortle, ‘to extend your compliments to the cook.’ She poured him a bit more cream for his cobbler. ‘Enjoy your dessert, lad. And there’s plenty more where that came from.’

She walked slowly back to the kitchen, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter at the situation. Pausing to take a critical look at herself as she passed the shiny bottomed baking pan hung on a peg on the kitchen’s wall, Cook turned her head this way and that. She pushed pack a few stray curls, a bit of grey threading through them, and smiled widely, noting now the collection of crinkles at the corners of her eyes had gotten more pronounced. Cook polished the erstwhile mirror with the elbow of her sweater, and peered in once more.

‘Not bad, Miz Bunce,’ she said in approval. ‘The years have been generous. There’s an adventure or two left in you!’

The cat on the hearth winked up in agreement before settling back to sleep.

~*~

Ruby came by with a pitcher of cider to top off Tolly’s mug. ‘Now isn’t that something,’ she mentioned in passing, as Cook passed through the kitchen’s doors, laughing still. ‘You must have told her some funny joke to set her off like that.’ He raised his brows at her comment. Ruby pointed toward Cook’s retreating back. ‘Her,’ she confirmed. ‘Cook.’

[Lalwendë]

He had done it to her again, driven everyone away. Jinniver felt hot tears rise up in her eyes; she could hold them back no longer. She put the corner of her shawl to her face to catch the tears as they started to run down her nose. Hunched up, she tried to avoid the angry stare of her brother.

Pegram softened as soon as he saw his sister’s tears. He had won. He reached for the jug of stout and poured himself a large tankard full. He did not pass it down the table towards her.

She didn’t want it anyway. “Why do you do it?” she said in a quiet voice, not looking at him, but studying the wall instead. “These are my friends. They are good people. Why do you have to be so…horrible?” She finally turned to face him, her face red with tears of frustration.

He did not answer straight away. He was choosing his words carefully; now he had won, he didn‘t want to set himself back again. “You know why,” he said, softly, with a small and hopeful smile. “I care for my sister. After. You know what after. There are still bad people out there, Jinniver. Bad creatures.“ He emphasised this last word. “You can only trust your own people, you know this.”

She may have finally burst into the tears which had threatened, but inside, Jinniver was not beaten, not this time. The tears were for the thought of the upset her brother had caused to her new friends. She felt their hurt, and what was more, she felt ashamed of her own brother. Coming to The Shire had helped her lose all her nervousness, and she found herself laughing more than dwelling on the long distant past. She no longer felt like the awkward young woman she had felt a few days ago. Here, she didn’t feel sad about the past that had caused her whole future to be cast into shadow. It didn’t matter any more.

Feeling a little braver, she moved closer to her brother, and snatched up the jug of stout, pouring herself a full pint. Savouring the scent, she drank deeply before wiping her mouth with satisfaction. Then she took up her pipe and began to pack it full of tobacco. Pegram watched her with his mouth open, aghast. “What are you doing?” he said in a shocked whisper.

“What does it look like?” she said, bitterly. Then, forcing a smile, she lit up her pipe, puffing out a great quantity of rich, earthy smoke right into the face of her brother, who coughed and had to move his head out of the way.

“I…” he did not know what to say. This was shocking behaviour, a well brought up woman to drink pints of stout and make a show of smoking her pipe. In public. In an inn. He grunted and stood up. He felt as though he needed some air.

[Nurumaiel]

"Be yourself, Lily," said Posco. "They'll love you more if you are presented to them as your honest self, not as a shadow trying to conform to what it thinks they would like best." Her face seemed a little cleared of worries at this, and she smiled at him as she put aside her plate. She had finished her supper, and so had he. The evening shadows were beginning to fall, and each moment brought morning closer. Was it not wonderful that he would escort her to his home, and bid farewell to her only when she went on from Buckland! Morning was not a dreaded thing now, for it did not bring their separation closer.

He stood, and went to her to pull her chair out from the table. Gallantly, and with a smile, he offered her his arm, and she took it, her smiled pleased but her face wondering, for this was not at all like the shy hobbit lad of only several days previous. He felt as though he would always be shy, but in her presence he could not be anything but open and honest, for he had no fear of speaking in her presence. He led her to the door, his face calm, but his heart in turmoil, for he wondered if Tommy Banks would be the hobbit to always have her upon his arm, smiling up at him with love and tenderness. Posco hoped with all his heart that she would come back to him, but he would not say anything, for he did not want to influence her, but let her choose honestly.

They went out into the cool evening air, and Lily's face fell when she saw they were going to the stable. Posco saddled his pony and led him out, and they stood in the fast-fading light, both unheeding of the chill wind that swept over the rolling hills. "I must return to my aunt now, Lily," said Posco, simply, "but I will be here in the morning to bring you home." He bent, and he kissed her hand, hoping it was not too bold a thing to do. "Good-night, my Lily of the valley."

[Rochelle]

The grey mare trodded into town, stopping at the stable opposite the inn. Her head drooped from exhaustion, mimicking the posture of the cloaked figure on her back. A gentle whicker caused the form to awaken, casting brown eyes around before offering the mare a pat of thanks. Dismounting, the figure threw back the hood of her cloak, revealing a cascade of red-blonde locks. Her fairness gave little doubt that she was from anywhere but the Mark, the faraway lands of Rohan.

She tied her mare to the post before stepping into the dimness of the inn. As her eyes adjusted, she quickly moved to a vacant table, slumping into the chair. Her fingers danced around the leather bag tied to her waist, a collection of coins, stones and artifacts she'd found along the way. Looking around, she noticed many happy faces and fervent conversations...

[Arry]

Ferdy found the mop and began cleaning up the spilled cider. The momentary scrutiny of the patrons in the Inn had died away, and most had gone back to conversations with their tablemates. The cider splattered Hobbit, a Master Rowley Chubb of Girdley Island, had come back out, dressed in a clean dry outfit. Ferdy ducked his head down to avoid the fellow’s glance toward him. He was surprised when the Hobbit came over to him, saying that now as he considered it, he saw it was just a foolish accident on Ferdy’s part . . . ‘and haven’t we all done foolish things,lad,’ he said with a good-natured wink, ‘when we first start courtin’, eh?’

Again, Ferdy stood gawping at the man, wondering what sort of wizardry this fellow had to have sussed out the particulars of the situation. But Rowley simply clapped him on the shoulder and nodded toward the kitchen’s door, where Cook’s face could just be seen withdrawing . . .

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Three pints of black stout and a tea with milk, Innkeeper!"

Aman took down the order with a flourish and grinned at the good looking hobbit lad - Andwie Greenhand, a popular chap and always very polite to Aman, although his friends could be quite rowdy when they stormed the Inn at every possible occasion - and winked at him as she raised her eyebrows in the direction of the delicate looking girl beside him. Andwise winked back saucily and, at some comment from one of his friends, laughed loudly and turned back to conversation. Aman grinned and turned around again - only to be nearly knocked over by a young man as he pushed aggresively past her. Rather than turning to apologise, he simply ignored the Innkeeper as she staggered, and kept on walking, heading for the Inn door.

Aman raised her eyebrows but contented herself with glaring at his back venemously then righting herself. As she looked around the Inn, momentarily flustered, she caught sight of a the peddler-woman turned gardener, sitting on her own, her scarf over her face, her eyes following the young man with a look quite as hostile as Aman's own. Catching the Innkeeper watching her, Jinniver looked down, embarassed, her pale cheeks flushing, but even from where she stood several tables away, Aman could see that the other woman had been crying. Pursing her lips, she turned away towards the bar and made up the order for Andwise and his friends, adding to the tray two individual pots of rose tea along with two extar cups and saucers. As a grudging afterthought, she pulled out a pint of ale, then wove through the Common Room back to the young hobbit party table of four and, depositing their drinks with a few jovial comments to Andwise and his friends, she changed course towards Jinniver.

Smiling anxiously as she approached, Aman tipped her head onto one side questioningly. "Tea, Jinniver? And if you don't mind my joining you, I need a break as well - I've been on my feet since lunchtime!"

Jinniver gave Aman and watery smile and gestured for her to sit, hurriedly pulling out a chair and muttering her acceptance of the tea and the company. Aman smiled gratefully and sat, placing the tray on the table. As she poured herself a cup of tea and added the milk, she saw Jinniver glance at the ale and shrugged lightly, her eyes returning to her cup. "I figured your hostile friend might like something to cool him down. If all else fails, I can always just throw it at him." Jinniver gave a sniff of laughter at the comment and grinned gratefully at Aman, before the Innkeeper, after a strategic pause, continued. "May I ask what his business here is, Jinniver? I cannot help noticing that he has hardly been particularly friendly towards any here so far - your own self included. Is he upsetting you? I will not stand anyone to upset one of my staff..."

[Witch_Queen]

Cree

Cree looked around she didn't know now what to do. She was going to be leaving the next day. Should she find Avalon and let the bird know or just go on through-out the night and not tell Avalon. Cree couldn't force herself not to tell the friend she let go. The day had been good to her so far. Now it was time for her to move on with her life and not let the days linger in her mind. "Fáinu, should we tell Avalon that we are leaving? Perhaps she would like to know that we are leaving." She turned her gaze back on Fáinu. The elf's expression was blank. Cree could tell nothing about the elf setting across from her.

It was still a few days until Cree would end another year of her life. She couldn't wait until she was roaming the wild with Fáinu. The last adventure Cree had been on ended up with only failure. She sat there thinking about what the future may have in plan for her. The next day she would help Fáinu end his curse. Perhaps she would find a end to her curse as well.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Looking up, as if awoken from a deep sleep, Fáinu forced a smile. "Do what you feel is right by your friend," he said, "I shall not hinder it." Cree thanked Fáinu but felt it best to await a later time. Cree seemed to see some foreboding in Fáinu's eyes, as if he knew that some horrid thing were to happen.

Fáinu shook the terrible images from his mind, and looked back at Cree. She seemed to be stareing into his eyes, so he closed them. When he looked again she was peering into her mug, though it was empty. Fáinu tried to break the silence,

"I think I should find some new bandages in rivendell," he began, "This one has served me well, but I feel it is time I had a new one." He smiled at Cree, she did not return it, "Something troubles you?" Cree looked up, Fáinu could not quite put his finger on what it was in her that he saw, fear, love, or anger. She seemed to show all trades.