The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Lasbelinion · 05-30-2005, 01:54 PM

Uien is ill received

What tenuous feelings of safety and shelter he had felt just short moments ago now fled at the entrance of the other. Anger rode her voice and features. Her fists were clenched as if to punctuate what her words would name. It mattered not the offense, he had learned. Better to stand still and get it over.

In long learned reflex his muscles tightened as he awaited the sure to come blow; his mind shut hard against the expected pain, severing his receipt of it from consciousness. For a space of time there were two beings which stood in his place . . . waiting . . .

The air thickened with her unmouthed accusations. And still the blow did not fall. Taking a quick short breath, Lithmîrë stepped back from her trembling form. A fragment of a question she threw at him settled precariously in his consciousness.

‘What new darkness is this?’ he heard.

Harsh voices rose at the edges of his memory. ‘Thinks his kin will come looking for him.’ The voices of dark men and Orc grated against his ears; their rude laughter assailing him as sharply as the stick with which they beat him. ‘Dark and ugly as we are now to them . . . that’s how you are to your foul kin in their precious forests.’ They’d laughed again as they sent him running back to his fellows in the fields; the lashes of the overseer biting at his back . . .

He struggled up against the ghosts, to see that she was still standing there, unmoving. A small glance to his right showed a break in the bushes between the trees. He registered she had no weapon on her . . . save her mind. It was she that had tried to force her way into his thoughts. Like the others with their sullied ways . . . she was small . . .

From some hidden corner of his awareness rose a stench of revulsion at his thought that he could choose to kill her. And with it some understanding that such an act would indeed be dark and ugly. What faint hope he held for himself would be quenched in such overwhelming shadow.

Lithmîrë shut his mind hard against her. ‘Stay back,’ he warned her in even tones. ‘Look to yourself,’ he rasped, taking another step back, lengthening the distance between them. With a sudden gathering of his cloak about him, he turned quickly to his right and ran; the brutish jeers and laughter of summoned ghosts biting at his back.

Primrose Bolger · 05-30-2005, 02:15 PM

An invitation to Larien

Ginger colored at the question. ‘Ferdy. Well, he’s my fellow. Lives with his family in Hobbiton.’ The thought of him caused her to blush even more deeply. Wanted as it was, this new tie between her and Ferdy was new. And she found it hard to name it. Giving herself a breather from further consideration, she took a gulp of cider. ‘Anyways, we’d be happy to have you walk about with us.’

From the corner of her eye she caught the door to the kitchen opening. Buttercup’s voice called to her, saying they needed to set the conies and vegetables stewing for supper. ‘Oh! I’ll need to get the flour and such measured out for the biscuits,’ Ginger said, half to herself. She looked up at Larien as an unexpected thought came to her.

‘Say, if you’re not busy, would you like to help us out in the kitchen. I’m sure there are more carrots and taters to be chopped for the stew. And you can help roll and cut the biscuits with me later when it’s nearer to supper. And there’s the rest of the tarts, too, to drizzle with icing. Buttercup and Ruby will be there. they’re older than me, but real nice. You’ll like them, I think.’ She got up from her chair as she waited for her new friend’s answer.

piosenniel · 05-30-2005, 03:02 PM

The butcher is brought to mind

‘Now what is all that about?’ Cook wondered as she turned back toward the bower. There had been the sound of little branches snapping and the squawk of a hen dislodged from her perch among the branches. And there was Lithmîrë, his cloak pulled round him, running away from the bower. ‘What now?’ she thought, her brows raising. ‘Must be a snake or something as scared him from going out like regular folk would do. Course he is an Elf, and they have their ways about them. Though I can’t recall Mistress Piosenniel leaping out of the side of a room when the door would work just as easily . . . snake or no . . .’

Cook was a good distance away from the commotion, her thoughts centering on how many pans of biscuits she should have the girls get ready for baking. ‘And I think I’ll just have them pick some of the early green beans to steam up with a little butter and some cracked pepper from the trader that came through from Buckland. And maybe a few crispy bacon bits, too, might be tasty.’

She was just thinking how Master Lithmîrë could use a few helpings of stew and biscuits and beans and butter to round his stringy frame out a bit more as she pushed open the back door to the kitchen and stepped in. With an economy of motion, she hung her bonnet and cloak on the peg by the door and tied on her apron.

Pushing back a stray curl behind her ear, she surveyed her little domain. ‘Well, ladies, let’s set the conies to stewing. There’s a bigger crowd expected tonight, some traveling players up from Pincup. We’ll need an extra pan of stew and two more of biscuits, I think. And a couple of you need to go out to the garden and pick us some beans. I’ve a taste for them tonight.’

She went down the stairs, to the part of the basement where the hams and bacon were stored in a cool room. The kitchen helpers could just hear her muttering as she inventoried the supply. ‘Two more breakfasts and we’ll be out of bacon.’ Cook stomped up the stairs thinking how a nice lamb roast would be tasty . . . be a nice change from chicken and rabbit and mutton stews. The Spring Faire was coming up, too. Best to be thinking ahead to that.

‘Buttercup,’ she called out as she got to the top landing. ‘Remind me to have you go to the butcher. We’ll be needing a few things from him. See if he can come round and see me, soon.’

Cook stepped to the pans of stew ready to be set over the cook fire. Snapping off some herbs from where they were hung to dry from the rafters, she rubbed the leaves between her fingers and sprinkled them generously into the soon to be savory broth. She hummed to herself as she stirred them in, followed by pinches of salt and several grinds of pepper.

05-30-2005, 07:02 PM

Valin watched the young hobbit for some time, and was surprised that such a small person could show him that there was a place in the world where happiness could still thrive. He himeself had always led a hard life, and yet here was achild living a quite joyous one. Soon he found himself laughing out loud, and the young hobbit staring at him.

"Oh, the ale must be getting to my head, excuse me."

Valin quickly left the table feeling a little embarressed and ordered more ale.

Larien Telemnar · 05-31-2005, 05:49 PM

Larien smiled and stood, rubbing her right arm, which had fallen asleep. "I would be happy to help in the kitchen, although I do not know much about how you prepare food here in the Shire."

She looked over at the girl Buttercup and smiled shyly, then turned back to Ginger. "Would you like me to bring my mug? That way the table will be cleared off for someone else."

littlemanpoet · 05-31-2005, 06:12 PM

‘Stay back,’ warned the burned elf. ‘Look to yourself!’ He took a step back, and gathering of his cloak about him quickly, he ran away.

Look to myself? Uien stood confounded. She had purposely closed her mind, and so had no notion of what the other had thought or felt, save by his actions. And they made no sense. Then his earlier, unspoken words, came to mind: 'get out'. This burned elf acted as if he feared her, little Uien. A little smile came to her face as she laughed inwardly at the ridiculous thought. Whom had she ever caused to fear? The smile quickly disappeared as she discovered pleasure within at being feared. She was horrified.

But he had not answered her question. Or had he? Reluctantly, she thought back to her own dark time in the deeps of Caradhras. Orcs leered at her, taunting her with what they intended for her. She shuddered. It had taken Falowik's love to dispel that darkness, and that had taken time. This burned elf had been grievously used.

She felt the gem of her necklace, warming. Falowik was thinking of her. Should she go back to him, and leave the burned elf be? No. There was a new hardness within that held her to this new path. Maybe Falowik would understand, maybe give chase. She chose to let that be as it would. She followed the faint elvish shimmer of his fleeing footprints. She did not hurry. Look to yourself? What was that supposed to mean?

Azaelia of Willowbottom · 05-31-2005, 07:06 PM

Peony watched, horrified, as Valin made a hasty exit from their table. Had she done something wrong? Maybe she had been too greedy with the mushrooms. after all...Though she really had tried to be polite!

Miserably, she picked at her mushrooms without any of her usual enthusiasm, watching after him as he went and ordered more ale. Her first encounter with someone from the wide world outside the Shire and he'd gotten up and left.

"Whatever it is, I'm sorry!" she called quietly after him, but it was probably too soft to be heard in the noisy hubbub of the tavern. She sat back down and went back to her food, gradually becoming cheerful again: Peony was not someone who could stay sad for very long. She began looking around with interest at the other occupants of the Green Dragon.

Firefoot · 05-31-2005, 07:29 PM

Willy fidgeted in his seat. His thoughts had drifted during the composition of the song, mostly towards the outdoors. Through the schoolroom window he could see a beautiful blue sky, and warm sunlight streamed through the windows. The lunch break had been nice, but he really was not used to sitting in one place for such long periods of time, and his attention span had been long outlived.

It wasn't that he particularly wanted to go home (after all, what waited him there but chores?), but simply to be out of the confining schoolroom. Whether that meant playing marbles with his new friends or finding some mischief with his brother or something else, he wasn't sure.

So he echoed Reggie's thus far unanswered question. "We are done, right? We can go?"

05-30-2005, 02:15 PM	#2
Primrose Bolger Wight Join Date: Sep 2003 Location: Near Bywater Pool Posts: 196	An invitation to Larien Ginger colored at the question. ‘Ferdy. Well, he’s my fellow. Lives with his family in Hobbiton.’ The thought of him caused her to blush even more deeply. Wanted as it was, this new tie between her and Ferdy was new. And she found it hard to name it. Giving herself a breather from further consideration, she took a gulp of cider. ‘Anyways, we’d be happy to have you walk about with us.’ From the corner of her eye she caught the door to the kitchen opening. Buttercup’s voice called to her, saying they needed to set the conies and vegetables stewing for supper. ‘Oh! I’ll need to get the flour and such measured out for the biscuits,’ Ginger said, half to herself. She looked up at Larien as an unexpected thought came to her. ‘Say, if you’re not busy, would you like to help us out in the kitchen. I’m sure there are more carrots and taters to be chopped for the stew. And you can help roll and cut the biscuits with me later when it’s nearer to supper. And there’s the rest of the tarts, too, to drizzle with icing. Buttercup and Ruby will be there. they’re older than me, but real nice. You’ll like them, I think.’ She got up from her chair as she waited for her new friend’s answer. __________________ . . . for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth . . . are quick of hearing and sharpeyed, and though they are inclined to be fat and do not hurry unneccesarily, they are nonetheless nimble and deft in their movements . . . FOTR - Prologue

05-31-2005, 05:49 PM	#5
Larien Telemnar Wight Join Date: May 2005 Location: Frogmorton, The Shire, Middle-Earth Posts: 110	Larien smiled and stood, rubbing her right arm, which had fallen asleep. "I would be happy to help in the kitchen, although I do not know much about how you prepare food here in the Shire." She looked over at the girl Buttercup and smiled shyly, then turned back to Ginger. "Would you like me to bring my mug? That way the table will be cleared off for someone else." __________________ Oh look! It's a Blog!! What's it do? Pushes button Hammer zings out SPLAT! Flat Hobbit Oh! So that's what it does! Moan

05-31-2005, 07:06 PM	#7
Azaelia of Willowbottom Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Nov 2001 Location: By the Sea Posts: 446	Peony Underhill Peony watched, horrified, as Valin made a hasty exit from their table. Had she done something wrong? Maybe she had been too greedy with the mushrooms. after all...Though she really had tried to be polite! Miserably, she picked at her mushrooms without any of her usual enthusiasm, watching after him as he went and ordered more ale. Her first encounter with someone from the wide world outside the Shire and he'd gotten up and left. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry!" she called quietly after him, but it was probably too soft to be heard in the noisy hubbub of the tavern. She sat back down and went back to her food, gradually becoming cheerful again: Peony was not someone who could stay sad for very long. She began looking around with interest at the other occupants of the Green Dragon. __________________ "Wherever I have been, I am back."

05-30-2005, 01:54 PM	#1
Lasbelinion Pile O'Bones Join Date: Apr 2005 Posts: 24	Uien is ill received What tenuous feelings of safety and shelter he had felt just short moments ago now fled at the entrance of the other. Anger rode her voice and features. Her fists were clenched as if to punctuate what her words would name. It mattered not the offense, he had learned. Better to stand still and get it over. In long learned reflex his muscles tightened as he awaited the sure to come blow; his mind shut hard against the expected pain, severing his receipt of it from consciousness. For a space of time there were two beings which stood in his place . . . waiting . . . The air thickened with her unmouthed accusations. And still the blow did not fall. Taking a quick short breath, Lithmîrë stepped back from her trembling form. A fragment of a question she threw at him settled precariously in his consciousness. ‘What new darkness is this?’ he heard. Harsh voices rose at the edges of his memory. ‘Thinks his kin will come looking for him.’ The voices of dark men and Orc grated against his ears; their rude laughter assailing him as sharply as the stick with which they beat him. ‘Dark and ugly as we are now to them . . . that’s how you are to your foul kin in their precious forests.’ They’d laughed again as they sent him running back to his fellows in the fields; the lashes of the overseer biting at his back . . . He struggled up against the ghosts, to see that she was still standing there, unmoving. A small glance to his right showed a break in the bushes between the trees. He registered she had no weapon on her . . . save her mind. It was she that had tried to force her way into his thoughts. Like the others with their sullied ways . . . she was small . . . From some hidden corner of his awareness rose a stench of revulsion at his thought that he could choose to kill her. And with it some understanding that such an act would indeed be dark and ugly. What faint hope he held for himself would be quenched in such overwhelming shadow. Lithmîrë shut his mind hard against her. ‘Stay back,’ he warned her in even tones. ‘Look to yourself,’ he rasped, taking another step back, lengthening the distance between them. With a sudden gathering of his cloak about him, he turned quickly to his right and ran; the brutish jeers and laughter of summoned ghosts biting at his back. __________________ In the twilight of autumn the ship sailed out of Mithlond,until the seas of the Bent World fell away beneath it,& the winds of the round sky troubled it no more,& borne upon the high airs above the mists of the world it passed into the Ancient West… Last edited by Lasbelinion; 05-30-2005 at 02:18 PM.

05-30-2005, 03:02 PM	#3
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	The butcher is brought to mind ‘Now what is all that about?’ Cook wondered as she turned back toward the bower. There had been the sound of little branches snapping and the squawk of a hen dislodged from her perch among the branches. And there was Lithmîrë, his cloak pulled round him, running away from the bower. ‘What now?’ she thought, her brows raising. ‘Must be a snake or something as scared him from going out like regular folk would do. Course he is an Elf, and they have their ways about them. Though I can’t recall Mistress Piosenniel leaping out of the side of a room when the door would work just as easily . . . snake or no . . .’ Cook was a good distance away from the commotion, her thoughts centering on how many pans of biscuits she should have the girls get ready for baking. ‘And I think I’ll just have them pick some of the early green beans to steam up with a little butter and some cracked pepper from the trader that came through from Buckland. And maybe a few crispy bacon bits, too, might be tasty.’ She was just thinking how Master Lithmîrë could use a few helpings of stew and biscuits and beans and butter to round his stringy frame out a bit more as she pushed open the back door to the kitchen and stepped in. With an economy of motion, she hung her bonnet and cloak on the peg by the door and tied on her apron. Pushing back a stray curl behind her ear, she surveyed her little domain. ‘Well, ladies, let’s set the conies to stewing. There’s a bigger crowd expected tonight, some traveling players up from Pincup. We’ll need an extra pan of stew and two more of biscuits, I think. And a couple of you need to go out to the garden and pick us some beans. I’ve a taste for them tonight.’ She went down the stairs, to the part of the basement where the hams and bacon were stored in a cool room. The kitchen helpers could just hear her muttering as she inventoried the supply. ‘Two more breakfasts and we’ll be out of bacon.’ Cook stomped up the stairs thinking how a nice lamb roast would be tasty . . . be a nice change from chicken and rabbit and mutton stews. The Spring Faire was coming up, too. Best to be thinking ahead to that. ‘Buttercup,’ she called out as she got to the top landing. ‘Remind me to have you go to the butcher. We’ll be needing a few things from him. See if he can come round and see me, soon.’ Cook stepped to the pans of stew ready to be set over the cook fire. Snapping off some herbs from where they were hung to dry from the rafters, she rubbed the leaves between her fingers and sprinkled them generously into the soon to be savory broth. She hummed to herself as she stirred them in, followed by pinches of salt and several grinds of pepper.

05-30-2005, 07:02 PM	#4
Vardalainion Guest Posts: n/a	Valin watched the young hobbit for some time, and was surprised that such a small person could show him that there was a place in the world where happiness could still thrive. He himeself had always led a hard life, and yet here was achild living a quite joyous one. Soon he found himself laughing out loud, and the young hobbit staring at him. "Oh, the ale must be getting to my head, excuse me." Valin quickly left the table feeling a little embarressed and ordered more ale.

05-31-2005, 06:12 PM	#6
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	‘Stay back,’ warned the burned elf. ‘Look to yourself!’ He took a step back, and gathering of his cloak about him quickly, he ran away. Look to myself? Uien stood confounded. She had purposely closed her mind, and so had no notion of what the other had thought or felt, save by his actions. And they made no sense. Then his earlier, unspoken words, came to mind: 'get out'. This burned elf acted as if he feared her, little Uien. A little smile came to her face as she laughed inwardly at the ridiculous thought. Whom had she ever caused to fear? The smile quickly disappeared as she discovered pleasure within at being feared. She was horrified. But he had not answered her question. Or had he? Reluctantly, she thought back to her own dark time in the deeps of Caradhras. Orcs leered at her, taunting her with what they intended for her. She shuddered. It had taken Falowik's love to dispel that darkness, and that had taken time. This burned elf had been grievously used. She felt the gem of her necklace, warming. Falowik was thinking of her. Should she go back to him, and leave the burned elf be? No. There was a new hardness within that held her to this new path. Maybe Falowik would understand, maybe give chase. She chose to let that be as it would. She followed the faint elvish shimmer of his fleeing footprints. She did not hurry. Look to yourself? What was that supposed to mean?

05-31-2005, 07:29 PM	#8
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	Willy fidgeted in his seat. His thoughts had drifted during the composition of the song, mostly towards the outdoors. Through the schoolroom window he could see a beautiful blue sky, and warm sunlight streamed through the windows. The lunch break had been nice, but he really was not used to sitting in one place for such long periods of time, and his attention span had been long outlived. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to go home (after all, what waited him there but chores?), but simply to be out of the confining schoolroom. Whether that meant playing marbles with his new friends or finding some mischief with his brother or something else, he wasn't sure. So he echoed Reggie's thus far unanswered question. "We are done, right? We can go?"