The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Fairleaf]

Mari hurried out to the wagon where Wilfrid sat waiting. ‘They’re all taken care of, dear,’ she said as he gave her a hand up to the seat. She adjusted her thick wool shawl about her and smiled fondly at him. ‘I told Miz Bella we would bring her a pair of little banty laying hens and a rooster. And I spoke with Gil Tussock, asking if he could make her a little coop outside the classroom. We have some of that wire mesh fencing to put up for a little pen I said he could use.’

Wilfrid flicked the reins lightly against Larkspur’s flanks and urged the pony forward. ‘Best get to the lambing pens now, Mari. I’m worried about that black ewe.’ He rubbed his jaw as he thought on it.

‘Well, if she still hasn’t dropped, Wilfrid, by the time the children need to be picked up, old Larkspur and I can come to the Inn and fetch them.’

‘You’re a right treasure,’ he said, giving a relieved sigh, and looking at her with a fond grin. He flicked the reins once again and clucked to the pony to pick up her pace.

[Huan]

It was only after a second thought that Anyopâ took Benat up on his offer. There was only so much one could do in an Inn, and he did not relish the idea of spending a day inside. The view from the window in his room when he’d first gotten up was that of a cloudless day in the making. It would be good, he thought, to stretch his muscles with a bit of hard work.

‘Go on over to . . . the cottage, is it? I’ll just change into some clothes more suitable for hard work and join you there.’ Anyopâ rose from the table and headed for the staircase.

‘And we’ll see you later, won’t we?’ he called out to Hob, who was heading to the door just after Benat. ‘Good luck on selling your wares!’

[Undómë]

Hob nodded at Anyopâ, then hurried out the door after Benat. He made his way to the stable and checked all his merchandise in the wagon stored under the stable’s eaves. One of the stable hands helped him pull the wagon into the open and brought Strawberry out of her stall. Hob noted she’d been well groomed and gave the lad an extra penny for the effort. The pony was hitched to the wagon and the two moved down the lane toward The Great Road.

With any luck, Hob thought, he’d have most of his business done by mid-afternoon. He’d be back in plenty of time to have a late lunch and relax before supper.

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik sat at the trunk of an aged tree by the road, just outside the Green Dragon. Morning was getting on toward noon, and Uien had not been back yet. The tree he sat by was the one he had sat beneath those months and months ago, the day he had first met Uien. He thought back fondly to that night and the following days. She had changed him. He had been a cold hearted exile from Bree, wandering the roofless wild just north of the Shire, from the Blue Mountains to the Trollshaws. For twelve years he had roamed and lived off the land, until he had chanced upon the capture of the man of Rohan named Eodwine, and reported it to folk in the Shire, the closest habitations to where the crime had been committed. It had been a strange adventure, and Uien had chosen to be a part of it with him, rescuing Eodwine from the villains.

Falowik's necklace lay warm and bright against his chest: Uien was thinking of him. He looked up to see her walking toward him from beyond the Inn. He stood.

"What news?" he asked.

"I found Mithalwen busy at work with the smith of Bywater, one Toby Flaxman. She is making braces for Rory, the lad with the weak legs."

Despite her simple report, Uien's face gave away her disquiet. "What is wrong, fair one?"

She came a step closer. "Maybe-" She was looking at her hands, aimlessly working the folds of her skirt. She looked up at his eyes. "Maybe I have no business poking my nose in the business of Rory."

"Why not? Did not Mithalwen invite your aid?"

"Aye, but she does not need my aid. All she needed was help with Master Falco Headstrong, and so I spoke with him, and all was well enough thereafter." Her hands worked frettingly with her skirt, her eyes downcast again.

Falowik took her hands in his and stilled them. She looked up into his eyes again. "What more would you do if you felt it was good to do?"

She looked away, frowning. "Only to make the braces supple enough to grow with his legs as they change."

"That is a great thing!"

She shook her head vigorously. "But unneeded! Mithalwen is making the braces adjustable; they will be enough without my aid."

"Fair enough," Falowik said, "but something lies deeper than that. Does it not?"

Her eyes were large and haunted, looking back at him. Falowik wished that he knew what lay on her heart, but he did not feel that he could force it from her. She must speak what she could when she was ready to.

"I - I do not know. I know not what is wrong with me!" She broke from him and grabbing her skirt, fled across the courtyard to the stables. Falowik's jaw bunched. He did not know what to make of this. She had just fled from him. Maybe being in the presence of other Elves reminded her of what he was not, being a mere Man. Falowik heaved a sigh and chose to leave Uien to her own thoughts for now. If she needed him, the necklace lying against his chest would tell him that she thought of him. He hoped it would not be long before she did. He walked along the side of the Inn, to the horse pasture, and walked a circuit around the fence, hoping to calm his own unruly thoughts by lunch time.

[Envinyatar]

The day advanced toward a warm midday. Anyopâ and Derufin had removed their tunics as they worked with the splitting mauls. Cook had come to fetch Benat earlier to see the Mayor, leaving the two men to work their way through the large log pile.

‘Ah! You’re a sweet sight for a thirsty man!’ Derufin grinned at the approaching figure of his wife. He wiped his face and hands on his tunic and took the flagon of cold, sweet cider from her hands along with the cups. Her arm came up toward him as she lightly thrust against him with her splayed hand. His intended hug fended off successfully, she turned her cheek up toward him for a kiss.

‘A wash-up first, I think, before you have me smelling like a woodsman, sir!’ Zimzi laughed as she stepped back. Handing one of the cups to Anyopâ, she took the flagon and poured each a cup and then another. On her arm was a small basket, filled with thick cheese and ham sandwiches and some cookies from the Inn kitchen. ‘These should hold you over for a while, don’t you think?’ she asked as the two crowded about the basket, dipping their hands in for the sandwiches. ‘Cook will send Meri over in a bit with the big wagon. We’re to keep as much wood as we think we’ll need, she said. And the rest pile in the woodshed.’

Derufin nodded his head and mumbled something through his mouthful of food. Zimzi took his cheesy mumble as an agreement. Bidding Anyopâ a farewell for the moment, she left, telling them she would leave some towels out for them on kitchen table. And could they meet her later at the Inn for supper, she was taking the cart to The Water to dig some clay. Tomorrow she said she would make some pots and use some of their sweat hewn wood to fire them. Derufin waved his sandwich at her as she turned to go and nodded his head, yes.

[Saelind]

Where was that schoolroom anyway?

Thalion was having little luck in finding the small door at the back of the Inn that led to Miz Bella's school, the place where his son had probably gone. After mistakenly burgling his way into a locked storage shed and then nearly twisting the knob off the kitchen door in his impatience to locate his missing boy, he had issued an embarassed apology to Cook and made his way around to the small green door on the left where he could hear children laughing and playing, their voices wafting through the open windows into the courtyard.

He thrust his head through one of the openings and saw Neviel down on his hands and knees surrounded by other lads about half his height, doing something with a pocketful of little clay and glass balls.

Neviel leapt up with a broad grin as he saw Thalion come inside, "Oh, father. I am sorry but you were asleep. I know I should have waited, but I didn't want to sit in the room all day. And then I found Miz Bella's class. These good lads are teaching me to play marbles. They say I am doing alright." The last words were spoken with considerable pride.

Thalion fixed a stern eye on his son and was about to reprimand him when he noticed the happiness and cheerful anticipation shining in Neviel's face and eyes. It was something he had seen far too infrequently. "Please, father," the young Elf implored. " I didn't mean to run off. But I like it here. Can't we stay a while and I can go to school? You always said it would be good for me to learn to read and write Westron. I only know the runes now. Maybe you could talk with Miz Bella and see if I could stay." The boy looked up expectently at his father. Just then there was a slight rustling sound, the kind of sound made by the swirl of hobbit skirts. The noise was coming from across the room. Miz Bella had slipped in unnoticed while they were talking and was now standing just inside the doorway deep in thought.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Miz Bella stood beside the open door, carefully listening to the conversation that was going on between Neviel and his father. At first, she could scarcely believe her ears. A young Elf wanted to come and join her little school! In all her years travelling about Middle-earth, she had never heard of an Elf attending a classroom with hobbit or mannish children. In fact, she had never even encountered an Elvish child before in all the places she had journeyed. Fewer Elves were having families, and, of that small group, most had already trekked to the Havens and sailed away across the seas. Miz Bella wondered how many young Elves still remained in Middle-earth, and whether this lad might possibly be a little lonely, since he would have had few playmates of his own. She was proud, however, of the way the other hobbit lads had gently taken him under their wing and taught him to play their game.

For one moment, Miz Bella considered the problems of having an Elvish lad in the classroom. She simply did not feel qualified to teach such a youngster. For all she knew, the lad had probably heard a thousand ballads and poems about the early history of Arda and would be bored by the few little stories she could bring to the class. And how could she teach the alphabet to someone who already knew how to read and write runes, a skill that she did not even possess? And what about his father? The older Elf had a distant and slightly disdainful look on his face that suggested he was less than pleased with the idea of having his offspring in a classroom full of young rough and tumble hobbit lads.

For a moment Miz Bella hesitated and then, just as quickly, she decided. No matter who this was or what he already knew, she could not turn away a child who was eager to learn. The only problem would be persuading his father of that important fact!

Turning to face Neviel's father, she bobbed a curtsey in front of the Elf and addressed him politely, "We should be honored to have Neviel join us. I am sure we will be able to learn as much from him as he will from us."

Thalion shook his head and seemed to be going to say 'no' when Miz Bella sidled up to him and spoke in a whispered voice, "Please, give us a chance. Leave him here for the first day and see how things go. Then you can come back this afternoon to fetch him, and we can talk. I promise to take good care of him." With that final assurance, Thalion nodded, glancing back at Neviel who was beaming with excitement, and then headed reluctantly for the door.

Miz Bella turned to the other newcomer, an adult who was seated near the girls on the far side of the room. He evidently had something to say to her. "You wanted to speak with me?" she politely asked him. Miz Bella walked over to where the gentleman was seated, and was about to start a conversation, when she caught a glimpse of the way the school books were arranged on the shelf. Despite all her efforts to suppress a chuckle, she found herself giggling. With an effort she put on a straight face, cleared her throat , and looked kindly at Camille and Marigold, "Well, girls, this is most unusual. Either before or after our visitor speaks with me, you must tell me how you have arranged these books. It looks quite ingenious. The rest of you...., " Miz Bella added, "Please go ahead, take one of the slates, and sit down. We'll be starting our lessons shortly." Miz Bella looked at the stranger and the young hobbit lasses, waiting for one of them to reply.