The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Envinyatar]

‘We should go, Derufin.’ Zimzi stifled a yawn and pulled her shawl up more securely round her shoulders. ‘We told my brothers we would meet them just southwest of Greenholm. And I still have a little packing to do.’

Derufin fetched her cloak from the pegs by the front door to the Inn and said their good-byes to friends about the room. He settled her cape on her shoulders and shrugged his own on.

Bending down to pat Cullen on the head, Derufin gave the hound a scratch between the ears and the last bit of a tart Zimzi had left on her plate. ‘I hope we’ll see you when we get back,’ he said to Benat. ‘You are staying for the Faire, aren’t you?’

[Lasbelinion]

Lithmîrë followed along behind Cook, holding the door open for her as she trundled along with the tray holding the teapot and the now empty plate of cookies. He left her to her measuring bowls and stirring spoons and flour and leavenings saying that he thought he might go off to his own rest now and then tomorrow be off to see that old Hobbit woman about laying in a stock of medicinal herbs.

He waited while Cook went to her room to fetch a stack of squares of material to bring to the old granny. And nodded as she instructed him on what purposes he was to tell the older lady the material was for. Quickly, too, Cook wrapped up a number of jam tarts in a clean linen napkin and told him to take them along with him.

With a nod to her, he left through the back kitchen door and disappeared into the night.

[Arry]

After a few more songs, Gil and his friends invited the traveling musicians to sit down and have a drink with them. The rather large group pushed three of the tables together and rounded up enough chairs for themselves.

Buttercup came round and brought them all mugs and several pitchers of cold cider. She was also persuaded by a pleading smile from Gil to fetch a basket of bread and a plate of ham and cheese. Playing music and singing was thirsty work. And being Hobbits, there was always room for a little something to fill in the empty corners.

[Folwren]

“No, it wouldn’t be right! An inn’s not for kids like us. We can’t go in there.”

“Look, Wren, we don’t have much choice. You’re always worrying about being proper, but I say that tonight, it doesn’t matter. Besides, the folks’ll be nice. Chances are we won’t even be noticed and we can sneak away to a corner by the fire. It’s going to get too cold tonight to sleep out again.”

Wren clutched her shawl closer about her shoulders and shivered as she looked up at the sky. She didn’t like the idea of going into an inn at night. But perhaps he was right. She always was shy of people, big or little, and right now, she should forget about being shy. Still...

He extended his hand to the latch again and she caught his wrist.

“Please, Tim, not tonight.” He merely shook his head, opened the door, and walked in, pulling her gently in after him.

“Just don’t say anything,” he muttered in her ear. “I’m tall enough to pass off as a grown hobbit, and if you keep your mouth shut, they might think you’re older than you are, too.”

Wren didn’t answer, but her heart sank. So much for coming in unnoticed. There weren’t as many people in the room as they had hoped, and there was no singing or dancing. It might have just ended. A large group sat almost directly in front of them a few turned their heads as they entered.

Tim halted sharply just inside the door to avoid colliding with two people leaving. He stepped aside quickly and pulled Wren over with him, muttering an apology. Then, as quickly as he could, he led his little sister towards the fire.

[Arry]

Hanson tries to strike up a conversation with Wren and Tim

Hanson had his fill of cider. The grown-ups were talking and he had grown tired of listening to them. His little five year old mind was drifting away from the conversations at the table and toward finding something fun to do. His gaze flicked to his older brother, Woody, who at the age of eleven was trying desperately to be thought of as more grown up than he was.

Woody was following his Uncle Gil’s lead and he laughed when Gil did and every so often threw in a comment when he could. He was rewarded for this by smiles from Rowan and claps on the back from her brother.

Hanson took the opportunity to slip off his chair while everyone was talking about something the Elf had done and walk quietly away from the table. He waved to those he knew in the common room as he passed and made his way to the fireplace. He liked to sit on the raised hearth and swing his legs with the heat from the fire keeping his back toasty.

A girl and a boy, bigger than she was, were also making their way toward the fire. Hanson climbed up on the hearth and looked about the room. Their Ma and Da must be outside taking care of their cart and pony. He wondered where they came from. They weren’t Elves – they didn’t look like his friend Neviel. And they certainly weren’t Hobbits. They must be Big Folk . . . like Derufin and Zimzi. But not all grown up like them.

He looked at them curiously for a moment, then hopped down from the hearth to the floor. Never one to be shy, Hanson walked up to where they were sitting by the fire.

‘Hello!’ he said, smiling at the both of them. ‘My name is Hanson. Hanson Boffin. What’s yours?’ He sidled onto one of the empty chairs as he waitied for their answer.

Halsmir Longleaf came from Eryn Lasgalen, the former Forests of Mirkwood and had travelled across many lands , and now that the threat of Sauron was destroyed he could travel across countries that he had only dreamed of and at last after many months of travelling he had come to the distant land of Shire.

He was surprised to see the little Shire-folk , such people he had not seen in any of his travels,short but courteous in speech only in tales had he heard of such people and now he was glad to meet them.

And now as evening came up behind he stood at the door of an Inn called "The Green Dragon" with his white horse Halrod. As he looked for someone a stableboy came up to him and asked in a funny tone " Please go inside Master , have some food while stable your fine horse , Ah! how white he is " and then he hurried off with his horse before Halsmir could ask him anything.

But nonetheless taking th boy's advise he went inside .

And inside he pleasently surprised not to see only hobbits but also men,dwarfs and elves, whatever maybe he had not expected to see elves in an local Inn.
He went and sat the bar all by himself as he had no one to talk with , but within a few minutes a hobbit girl came up to him and asked " Are you new to this place forI have not seen you before ? "

And Hasmir replied " Yes my Lady , it's my first visit to your little country and I am very pleased to see you folk living in such blessedness ." and then he bowed.

The girl blushed a little and the replied " Ah so very nice of you , but I am forgetting my manners , what would you wish to have , you look hungry "

And Hasmir said " Ah a ale of beer and some soup would go down preety well , and now I am forgetting my manners I forgot to ask What would be your kind name?, I am called Hasmir Longleaf from the distant realm of Eryn Lasgalen."

The girl said " My name is Buttercup , and now I will go and get you your order , please make yourself at home . "

As Buttercup hurried off to get his order , he looked around the placed and thought " A nice little Inn these Shire people have , very pleasent I wonder what kind of people come here ...... " .

[Kath]

"My name is Esgallhugwen, my friends call me Eswen, it's much shorter you see and they don't run out of breath trying to pronounce it." she said.

Astilwen blushed and smiled as the Elf complimented her on her name and grinned along with Eswen as she laughed, though not sure as to the reason for her mirth it was such a joyous sound that she could not help but join in.

Suddenly Eswen's face closed off again as she looked towards the couple that Astilwen had earlier avoided so that she did not disturb them. It seemed as though the Elf was worried that she had herself disturbed them but Astilwen thought that the music coming from inside was much louder than Eswen's laughter had been and was more likely to bother them than the pretty laughter of the Elf.

Still, she wondered why Eswen was so concerned about them, maybe she knew them? She didn't realise that she had asked this out loud until the Elf replied in the affirmative.