The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Noinkling]

‘A messenger for the King, eh? What was he like, if you don’t mind me asking?’

Neither Tolly nor any of his family had ever seen the High King from Gondor. And what stories they had heard of him had filtered down to them from their relations in Tuckburrough. He remembered hearing the King lived in a great tall building atop a high mountain of sorts and that his wife was one of the Fair Folk. And that many people came there to see him. It was told, he recalled, that the King was a fair man and just; one to be trusted to keep to his word.

Before Keleth could answer, he asked one more question. ‘Now I heard a story,’ he said, scratching the back of his head, ‘that the King used to be one of them Rangers. Is that true? My gaffer told me about the few he met, wandering about the countryside . . . almost like ghosts, they blended in so well, he said. I remember he used to get a sort of shiver when he’d talk about their grey eyes and how a certain light seemed to shine behind them. Almost like they’d look right through you, he’d say in a low voice.’

Taking a warm muffin one of the servers had just brought out, Tolly pulled it in two and slathered it with butter. Now wouldn’t that be something he thought to himself as he helped himself to a little jam, too . . . if the King and his fair lady would visit the Shire, and even better his family’s Inn! Chewing on the welcome treat, he waited patiently for Keleth to tell him about the King.

[piosenniel]

‘Whoa up, Nobby! There’s a girl!’ The little brown pony turned off the path to the Inn’s front door, making for the stables at a quick pace. The sooner the stable was reached, he knew, and the cart unharnessed from him, the sooner he’d have a warm, cozy stall to stand in and a small rick of sweet hay to munch on, And perhaps, if he looked longingly enough, there would be a crisp little apple to crunch.

Zimzi guided him up to the double doors with a deft hand. Young master Meriadoc stepped out with a grin, and leaned his shovel against the doorframe. ‘Just cleaned out a stall for you, Nobby,’ he murmured confidentially to the nickering pony, scratching him affectionately between the ears. He grabbed hold the bridle, holding the pony and cart still as Zimzi got down. ‘Nice to see you back, Mistress,’ the Hobbit said, as they made quick work of freeing Nobby. ‘I’ve made room for your family’s horses, and their wagon . . . just waiting for them to show up.’

‘Thank you, my dear Merry,’ Zimzi returned, smiling. ‘I can hardly wait to see them. It was all I could do not to set out west to meet them on the road.’ She patted Nobby on the rump as Merry turned him into the stall. ‘Of course, this old fellow was bound and determined we were headed back to the Inn, and would have none of my indecision as to whether we should turn east or west!’ The two companions laughed at the image of the stubborn pony. Nobby flicked his ears at the two of them, and nodded his head up and down as if he had understood every word.

From the stable, Zimzi could see the light from the kitchen shining through the back door’s window. Cook would be up and about the Inn’s business she knew, and welcome order would be brought to bear on whatever series of unseen events fell upon the day. Gathering up her skirt and cloak to keep them from the damp dirt between the stable and the Inn, Zimzi hurried to the door, entering without knocking. ‘Hello!’ she called to those sitting about the table. ‘I’ve done with my choosing of flowers and making the arrangements for the party tables. Miz Amaranthas and one of Samwise’s boys will be bringing them in early tomorrow morning.’ She glanced round the kitchen, looking for Cook, and found her just coming out of the pantry. ‘My hands, and legs, and strong back, if needed, are at your service, my good Miz Bunce,’ she said, running to help Cook with the sacks of flour and sugar she was lugging into the kitchen proper. She plunked the sacks where Cook directed, then took a seat at the table.

‘Just have a cuppa tea,’ Cook said, pouring more hot water over fresh leaves in the pot on the table. ‘We’ll sort out what you can help with after another round of hot muffins with butter and jam.’ She eyed the woman in a considering manner as the basket of muffins was passed round. ‘I think I’ll set you to the slicing of the ham and cheese for the platters.’ Cook poured another round of tea once she’d determined it had brewed just so. ‘And once you’re done with that, then you can wash up the small pots in that cupboard over there, and get them filled with mustards and piccalilli from the larger crocks at the back of the pantry.’

Zimzi nodded her head ‘yes’ at Cook’s request as she piled her muffin with strawberry jam. Buttercup was just waiting for her turn to talk, and as soon as cook was done, she began asking the woman questions . . . what flowers had she chosen . . . and how was she going to wear her hair . . . what was her Ma like, and her brothers and her Da . . . was there anything special she would like done for them. The list went on and on, with others of the servers asking their own little questions as one would pause for breath. Zimzi answered as best she could, but she was hard put to keep up with them . . .

It was Cook who finally brought an end to the inquiries, saying there was work to be done. Zimzi mouthed a ‘thank-you’ toward her and stood to help clear the table. Ruby and Buttercup ran upstairs to get dressed for the day and were soon back down, joining the others in the tasks appointed them.

[Tevildo]

By the time morning came, Tevildo was perched on the steps of the Green Dragon cleaning and arranging his long, fluffy coat. He was not looking especially well today. One of his ears appeared slightly chewed and was tilted at a rather unusual angle, as if he had just come back from some dissolute errand.

This cursory impression was not far from the truth. In hopes of avoiding his mistress who'd unexpectedly turned up at suppertime, Tevildo had slipped outside and slunk down the road, spending the long night hours caterwauling with a feline member of the Gamgee household named Mushroom, a mouser who resided in the Hobbit family's barn. Although the family lived several miles distant, she had curtly informed the newcomer that the entire region of Hobbiton and Bywater was under her personal jurisdiction, and that no cat could take up residence without her personal consent.

Tevildo had strenuously objected, arguing that he had been hired on as a mouser at the Green Dragon and, therefore, had no need of anyone's aproval. Mushroom had not been impressed. She contended that the two-leggeds could make whatever arrangements they cared to, but no cat was coming into Hobbiton unless she personally approved the arrangement.

Losing his temper, Tevildo had countered with a stinging comment about the 'pint-sized master' of the Gamgee household. That had not gone over well. Despite Mushroom's earlier insistence that she was a free and independent feline, one who had no affection for her two-legged hosts, she had apparently taken these comments to heart. Thirty minutes later, Tevildo found himself at the bottom of a pile of several neighborhood cats, scraping and clawing his way out. Then, he turned tail and raced back to the Inn.

Once he had completed his morning grooming and repaired the damage to his ear as best he could, he mounted the steps to the Inn and pressed his small pink nose firmly up against the front door, waiting for someone to push it open. He did not have long to wait. There seemed to be a great deal of excitement in the air, with people bustling to and fro in anticipation of some unknown event, something which held no interest for Tevildo other than a possible source of things to eat and drink. As the door swung open, Tevildo padded inside and was greeted with aloud and triumphant cry, "You naughty kitty! Where have you been? I've been here all night, worrying about what you've gotten into. Now come say hello to me right away!"

Tevildo meowed piteously as he was swept up by a firm hand and plopped into the skirts of a chubby grey-haired woman with warm brown eyes and the hint of a smile on her face.

[Envinyatar]

Derufin’s eyes often strayed to the main road as he walked along the cottage roof, checking for any remaining loose shingles. Zimzi said she would be coming in today to help with the final preparations. And most of all to greet her parents. A shower of pebbles rattled off the roof, drawing his attention downward to the two Hobbits peering up at him.

‘F’you’re done . . . uh . . . gawking up there,’ came Tomlin’s voice, a grin plastered on his face, ‘then you might want to come help us finish the last of the inside work.’ Derufin could hear Gil, standing in Tomlin’s shadow, trying to stifle a snicker.

‘Hang on a bit, you two!’ Derufin laughed, sliding down the slope toward them. Crouching down at the roof’s edge, he peered down at the two. ‘Give a poor besotted man a small measure of grace,’ he pleaded, hand over his heart, in an exaggerated manner. Tomlin and Gil looked at each other, sighing back in just as dramatic a way. ‘Come down now,’ Gil called up to him, hands on his hips for emphasis. ‘We heard what you said to Andwise at breakfast . . . Mistress Zimzi has spoken – no finished up cottage, no handfasting.’ Derufin put up his hands in mock surrender and clambered off the roof. As he did so he caught the movement of a familiar little cart and pony nearing the turn in to the Inn. He lost his footing trying to get a better look and fell to the ground with a whump.

Gil and Tomlin slapped the dust from the fall off themselves as they watched the chagrined man stand up. They shook their hands and laughed as Derufin clapped his hand to the small of his back and limped into the cottage. ‘Come on,’ he said to the two Hobbits. ‘I’m down now . . . let’s get started.’ From the front porch he heard Andwise chuckling as he applied the final sanding and polishing to the new front door.

‘I am beset by unsympathetic Halflings . . . and here on the eve of my most joyful day.’ This statement was met with loud howls of laughter and the offering of a hammer and a handful of finishing nails as a peace offering. Andwise peeked in the door as Derufin knelt down to finish securing some of the moulding. ‘Perhaps Cook will send her over with the midday meal . . .’ he offered.

Ferdy stopped his painting in mid swipe and smiled toward Derufin. ‘And perhaps my Ginger will come with her . . .’

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth also took a muffin, and chewed it thoughtfully. What was the King like?

"Well, he is a very kind and generous man. Very skilled in battle, and knows what he is doing when making decisions. Yes, he was a Ranger, Strider he was called in these parts. Your gaffer is right about a Ranger`s eyes. They are the most striking of all their traits. Whenever he looked at me I couldn`t help but look away. They seem to go right through you, searching your mind and your heart." Keleth`s own dark eyes took on a far away look. "As piercing as they seem, they are kind, and knowing. He always seemed to understand me when no one else did. If I do not return to Gondor I will miss him very much. He and his fair queen. Almost as much as my dear sister, Taryn."

"If I do not return," he said softly to himself.

[Noinkling]

Before he could help himself, Tolly blurted out his next question. He’d been following along with what Keleth was saying and could hardly believe his ears at the last statement. Or the last two statements, really. ‘What do you mean, if you do not return?’ he asked without thinking. The very thought of not wanting to be back in your homeland among friends and especially among family perplexed him. Or maybe Keleth did want to go back but something stood in his way. ‘I can’t think of a single reason why I would want to be apart from my family. Much as they drive me quite mad at times, I just can’t fathom being alone. And so far away from your homeland, too.’

‘You sound like you miss your sister already . . . and the way you speak I’ll bet she misses you, also.’ Tolly leaned across the table and spoke low. ‘Is there something awful that stands in your way from being together with her? And what about the King – he sounds like a helpful fellow. Couldn’t he lend a hand?’

Tolly leaned back in his chair, his cheeks a little red from his impulsive questions. Surely the man would think him quite cheeky for putting his nose where it didn’t belong. ‘Oh, my,’ he said in apology, ‘don’t mind me and my forward tongue. I haven’t met many outsiders. I tend to forget your ways might not be ours when it comes to various things.’ The Hobbit stirred a spoonful of honey into his mug of tea, and sat sipping it. He was rather enjoying getting to know Keleth he thought to himself, and he hoped his questions had not put the man off . . .

[Primrose Bolger]

Breakfast was done; the dishes all cleared away and washed up. Cook was busy with her task . . . the layered cake. And there, on the other side of the kitchen was Miss Zimzi, stacking the platters to be used for the slices of ham and cheese. Ginger busied herself getting together what she needed for her own cookie making. From the corner of her eye she watched Miss Zimzi. She was pretty, in a quiet sort of way. And graceful, she thought. She had a quick smile for those about her. Derufin certainly seemed to like her quite a lot, Ginger thought. The Hobbit’s eye lingered on the woman, following her movements. She ducked her head away, blushing, as Zimzi caught her gaze, and smiled.

‘Quit your gawking, Ginger!’ she told herself firmly, drawing the small bag of flour toward her. ‘There’ll be time enough to talk with her when we’re done here.’ She picked up a cup and began measuring the flour into the big crockery bowl. Her hand reached for the tablespoon she’d set out, to measure in the leavening, but only the bare wood of the table met her fingers. She turned to look at the place where she’d put it. Empty . . .

‘I saw one of the servers borrow it, when you’d gone to get the sugar,’ came the voice from behind her. ‘Here, take one of mine. I can always get another one when it’s time to put the mustard in the little pots . . .’