The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Thinlómien]

Brith knew she was drunk. She had taken a bit more than the one beer she had originally decided to take. There were people coming in and being warmly welcomed. But one lonely young woman sitting on the yard drinking beer had been totally ignored. Why me? No one loves me. No one in this world. That's why he left me. He didn't love me. There's nothing to love in me. I'm an unloveable creature.

Drinking had never been good for Brith's mind.

There's one person in the whole world who doesn't hate me. And he happens to be a horse. How great. Brith laughed bitterly. And he loves me only because I give him food. Brith bought an apple. She wanted to feel loved. And the only one to offer it for her here was a gray stallion who happened to love apples.

Brith headed to the stables. She found her horse Grayday easily. She went to him and patted him. The horse let her even hug himself, but it's interest was focused to the apple in Brith's hand. Sighing, she gave it to him. "There you go, my love. I hope you're happier than I am tonight."

[Farael]

"My desires, hm? Why, so you can laugh at me too? everyone does." He sighed, remembering the times when being just a little more than a boy, he dreamt about fighting in the great battles of old time. If Losse had asked him the same question back then, he would have simply answered "I want to become a hero". It was no longer so easy, as even though he had joined the army and quickly risen through the lower ranks, his father had made sure he was always away from danger. And only in dangerous situations can a man really show what he is made of.

"I just want to protect my country and My Lord, as many did before me and many will after. But my father ruined that, so I guess I will be a merchant then. Just like him." He sighed again. It couldn't be that bad, being a merchant. At least he would always have money, and he would not be as likely to be killed. The life of a soldier had gotten easier after the fall of the Dark One, but there was still a lot of work to do. Lots of thieves to eradicate.

"I wish you were not a thief, Losse... you seem to be a very skilled and smart woman. With your smarts you could manage your own inn... but you shouldn't waste your time! We are no elves," He looked around for Teluyaviel, hoping she would not hear him talk like that "we will not be around for ever. "

[Huan]

‘You are certain you do not wish me to come with you?’ Emlin had delivered Teluyaviel to the back door of the Inn, the one that opened into the kitchen. He was loath to let her speak with her brother alone. Yet, it was her wish that she do so.

He opened the door and offered his hand as she stepped up to the little porch and then went in. The kitchen was well lit and he watched her as she hurried through the doors to the common room and passed beyond his sight. Emlin sighed and began to push the door closed when a voice from within hailed him.

[Lhunardawen]

"Don't you know exercising is the best way to avoid indigestion? Come on, I promise I'll be just as bad as you, it's been years since I danced to a good band."

Tilionwen's stomach gave a gurgle of protest as she attempted to stand, and her cheeks flushed instinctively. She hoped that Astilwen had not heard the sound, but the hobbit turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you even trying to get your tummy to make excuses for you?" she asked with mock disgust, yet despite her attempts at seriousness the two broke into a fit of laughter. After a while they found themselves clutching at their stomachs in pain.

Having catched her breath Astilwen abruptly pulled the much taller woman to her feet and towards the area for dancing. "Astilwen -" Tilionwen started to protest, but she was not listening. Tilionwen frowned. She didn't really feel up to anything yet - more so dancing - when she was afraid that her stomach would burst any moment. She dragged her feet to hamper the hobbit's efforts, but Astilwen was clearly stronger than her height (or her lack of it, it must be said) led Tilionwen to believe. Soon the hobbit realized what she was trying to do and stopped walking, then turned towards her with pleading eyes. Does she have to do that? No eloquence - if Tilionwen possessed any - could argue with her expression. Sighing in resignation, Tilionwen said, "Okay, okay, you win. But all I'll be doing is sway in place until this," she looked at her abnormally bulging tummy, "stops complaining. Good enough?"

[piosenniel]

Vinca had just come out of the pantry when the Elven lady passed into the common room. A curious entrance she thought wondering why someone, and an Elf to boot seemed to be sneaking through the back way. ‘Wonder what that’s all about?’ she murmured to herself.

Cook sat the bowl of dried beans she’d brought out from the oaken barrel in the pantry down on the table top. From the braid of onions that hung near the stove she selected three of the bigger ones, bringing them and her knife and a cutting board over to the table, too.

She was just about to begin peeling and chopping the onions when she noted the kitchen door seemed to be closing by itself . . . and sighing, too!

Had the Elven lady enchanted it, she wondered, her brow furrowed. But no, the slender fingers of a real hand were slipping from round the door.

‘You!’ she called loudly, walking quickly to the door. ‘Get yourself in here, why don’t you?’ She pushed the door back open and motioned him in. ‘Tea?’ she asked, getting down the pot from the shelf over the stove. ‘You sound as if you might need a hot cuppa and a ready ear.’ She bustled about getting cups and the canister with the nut cookies.

[Folwren]

The night had been long and merry, and Wren was completely worn out. She had eaten and danced and eaten and played with the children who’d come about and eaten some more. Tim kept up with her fairly well, but he knew that had they anyone really looking out for them Wren, if not also himself, would have been put to bed long ago. He wasn’t feeling tired yet, though, and continued to remain out with the main party. However, after some time of not seeing his sister, he began to wonder where she’d gone off to. He quietly got up to search for her and before long, found her curled up on a bench, just about asleep.

“Wren,” he said softly, shaking her by the shoulder. “Wren wake up.”

“Is it morning?” she asked, her eyes dull with sleep and her voice heavy with tiredness. She slowly lifted her eyelids. “Tim, it’s still night. Let me sleep.”

“Of course I’ll let you sleep, but not here. Come on. Let’s get you to the hay loft where we slept last night.”

“I don’t think so,” Wren replied with a cavernous yawn. She readjusted her hands under her head and closed her eyes. “I’ll just sleep here.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and took her by the arms and hauled her to her feet. “Come on,” he said, chuckling at her suddenly roused fiery look. “You’ll be much happier up there.” He hurried her through the people who were still about and towards the dark barn. She didn’t mind the blackness of the inside, for her eyes were too closed to see much anyway. Tim, having learned his way around quite well that day, navigated them both safely to the bottom of the ladder. He set Wren’s hands on it, and bent to whisper in her ear. “Now go along,” he told her. “I’ll be up sometime.”

“Oh, alright,” she replied, too tired to argue that if she had to go to bed, he should, too. “G’night, Tim.” And she slowly made her way up the ladder to the loft. There she crawled forward, prepared to drop down in the hay farther from the edge and sleep until way past morning light.

It was dark there, and she did not see the sleeping form of the girl in front of her until she had practically crawled on top of her leg’s. Mirelle moved slightly, startled, drawing herself up into a sitting position - and Wren screamed.

“It’s a ghost! Tiiim!” She shrieked again. There was no doubt that Wren was wide awake now.

[Kath]

As Tiliowen rose to her feet the gurgle that emanated from her stomach struck Astilwen as particularly amusing. The previously lithe and agile woman had eaten so much that she was now moving like a heavily laden cart, and the hobbit couldn't help but tease her a little.

"Are you even trying to get your tummy to make excuses for you?"

She tried to keep her words serious but the natural twinkle in her eye was soon noticed by Tilionwen, who stopped blushing and set about laughing instead. Taking advantage of the other woman's distraction Astilwen took her hand and tried to lead her on to the dance floor. Strangely though she found her way impeded, first by other patrons of the Inn and then by a dragging feeling from behind. Frowning she turned, and realised that the latter was caused by Tilionwen dragging her heels in attempt to avoid dancing.

Having learnt already that talking wasn't likely to get the woman to do something she didn't want, Astilwen stood in silence and stared up into Tilionwen's eyes, using a dirty trick she had perfected, with practice, on her mother, who could no more say no to the look Astilwen was using right now than she could go a day without a meal. It seemed to have the deisred effect on Tilionwen as well, for she sighed and reluctantly acquiesced.

"Okay, okay, you win. But all I'll be doing is sway in place until this stops complaining. Good enough?"

"Absolutely."

Astilwen replied with a smile and was pleased to see Tilionwen move ahead of her onto the dance floor. She kept her word though, simply swaying from side to side. Wondering how on earth she could get the woman to dance properly Astilwen took up position in front of her and began to copy the movements. Tiliowen tried to ignore her, resolutely looking the other way. Astilwen exaggerated the swaying, refusing to move either foot so that she was almost falling every time she moved. A few of the younger hobbits nearby were pointing and laughing, and she could see Tilionwen's eyes flicking between her and the floor, knowing the woman knew the pain of being mocked and knowing she wouldn't wish it on another person. Astilwen felt a little guilty for using what the woman had told her in confidence in such a way, but she knew that if Tilionwen would only let go of her worries and her past the night would pass much more easily.

Finally it seemed that her scheming had paid off, as Tilionwen took her hands and stopped her swaying with an amused glare. Astilwen simply grinned and waited for the other woman's attempt to argue her way out.

[Firefoot]

“Of course,” answered Lily. Something had happened to Gróin while getting their drinks, but if he preferred not to talk about it, Lily didn’t want to push. She took a sip of her ale, more for politeness than because she actually liked it. In fact, she did not much like ale at all and would have preferred cider. But once more she did not say anything. She forced herself to take a second and a third swallow before setting the mug down. At any rate, if she drank much more she knew that it would go straight to her head, and she doubted that getting drunk would help in any real way.

Gróin did appear quite eager to return to dancing, and Lily did not disagree. She had too much time to think while standing around, and she did not want to think. Not of the sweet rides through the Shire countryside, nor of the flowers Posco had once woven in her hair, nor of anything.

But when she returned to the dancing with Gróin, she could only feel as if she were simply going through the motions. She smiled as brightly as ever, and her feet were light as silvery moonbeams upon the ground, yet her eyes lacked that special sparkle. The lively song sounded torrential to her ears. She wished that her carefree attitude that had fooled everyone, even herself, would become real, that she could cease to care, but she was too honest for that. She could put on a magnificent show for everyone else, even for Gróin, so attuned to everyone else’s problems, but she could not do the same for herself.

If only her heart could be as light as her feet.

[Huan]

‘You sound as if you might need a hot cuppa and a ready ear.’

Emlin smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table. He watched the Halfling bustle about the room gathering up mugs, a plate of cookies, the honey jar, and a small pitcher of rich cream.

He found himself hungry after his long walk and took one of the nut studded cookies without much prompting. ‘Delicious!’ he mumbled round a mouthful of crumbs. She poured the good, strong tea into each mug and at his nod followed it with a generous pouring of cream.

‘Tis a new thing I’ve learned I like,’ he said as he swirled his spoon about in the milky-colored brew. He reached for the honey and put in a generous spoonful of it. ‘And with good Shire honey, too!’ He took a long swallow of the steaming brew. ‘Ahhhh! Good Shire tea.’ He reached for another cookie.

They made small talk for a leisurely while. She talking about her gardens and the Inn; he about his travels with the little group of Players who were staying at the Dragon. The sort of talk done between people who did not wish to speak of any deeper or more personal things. At least he did not wish at the moment to speak of them.

About Miz Bunce, he could not be so sure . . .

[Lhunardawen]

Glad that she was somehow able to appease the eager hobbit, Tilionwen walked on towards the dancing area with Astilwen at her tail. She was quite relieved that her stomach was not really as full as she thought it was, as the dull pain that had been bothering her started to subside. But she did not want to risk moving too much yet and end up throwing up - in sight of a lot of people, too - so she did as she told Astilwen she would and swayed from side to side, standing in place.

To her surprise the hobbit began to mimic her, so exaggeratedly that Tilionwen was afraid she would fall on her side to the ground. She tried to ignore her at first, yet she was unsuccessful. Astilwen looked completely ridiculous, truth be told. Tilionwen was about to tell her exactly that when she heard laughter from some way off the dance floor. She froze, and so did the words in her throat.

Her mind slipped back to those dreadful days of scorn, of ridicule, and of shame and fear. Her eyes darted to Astilwen, then to the ground, and back and forth. She knew only too well how horrible it was to be laughed at, and right now her new friend is probably finding it out for herself - only she did not seem to care. And why not? Tilionwen froze again.

Astilwen was mocking her. Perhaps in an attempt to get her to dance, but she did not really care about the reason.

An odd mix of annoyance and mirth welled up inside Tilionwen which manifested itself in an amused glare, and she held the hobbit's hands to make her stop swaying. With a look of innocence in her eyes Astilwen flashed a grin of triumph. Tilionwen narrowed her eyes further, then laughed. She thought thankfully that the swaying seemed to aid digestion somehow; her stomach felt less bloated than it did before.

"Goodness, Astilwen, must you always have things your way?" The hobbit replied with another innocent smile.

A few moments of awkward movements, steps on Astilwen's foot, and the hobbit's forgiving responses later, Tilionwen was dancing like she had been doing it her whole life, casting a few grateful glances at her little friend as she went.

[Thinlómien]

Brith was patting Grayday there at the back of the stables, in one of the darkest places. She wasn't making any loud noise either, her quiet, drunk sobs were too silent to reach over the gentle nightly noise of horses.

So she didn't wonder that she wasn't noticed by the boy and the girl who entered the stables. Though she was tired, sad and drunk, her curiousity won over everything else and she let her eyes follow them.

It was difficult to see in the dark barn, but Brith's eyes had adjusted to the darkness. The boy escorted the girl to ladders and she climbed up. Surely going to sleep, Brith thought and turned her back to the people. At the moment she preferred her own misery to strangers' goodnights.

She was just about to sit down at the floor, when someone screamed: "It's a ghost! Tiiim!" Her heart pounding fast, Brith turned her teary gaze to the ladder and the loft, waiting to see what was happening.

[Salacia Deloresista]

Mirelle sucked in a sharp breath and slowly, very slowly, let it out. A little boy's head popped up over the top of the ladder, and the little girl scrabbled towards him. Mirelle could only sit wordlessly and stare.

The very much awake, very excited little girl chattered away to the boy on the ladder, but he paid her only enough attention to shush her gently before turning back to Mirelle. "Who are you?"

"Mirelle. Who are you?" The words came out as a sort of croak. So she tried again. "Mirelle. Who are you?"

"I'm Tim, and this is my sister, Wren. You new here?"
Tim smiled. Mirelle smiled back.

"Yes," she answered. Then she burst into tears.

[JennyHallu]

"We aren't elves; we won't be around forever."

Losse sighed. "Oh I know, but building an Inn takes something I rather consistently haven't got. If I had the money, I would build it tomorrow. Here--" She paused, an absurd, mischievious look in her eyes. "I'll make a deal with you. You become a great merchant prince, I'll help you however I can, with information and the little oomph having a pretty girl along can give your negotiations, and I'll entertain clients for you, and help you with my arrows if you're attacked...it would keep me out of trouble..." she wheedled, in her sweetest voice, trying to seem innocent and winsome, but excitement and mischief shone from every pore.

Farael laughed at her. "And what's in it for you?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't be ridiculous, it's obvious, to me at least." She leaned forward conspiratorially across the table. "We'd be partners, Farael. And when we'd earned enough, we could build my inn. You'd be established by then, you could hire men to watch your caravans, and much more beautiful women than I would entertain you. And then...you'll have half-share in the best Inn west of the Anduin. What do you say?"

[Farael]

It started as a smile. The smile turned into a chuckle. The chuckle into laugh but it soon died away when Farael saw she was not joking. "Well Miss Losse, you do have a nose for opportunities, that's for sure." He smiled "Yet while your company sure is pleasing and your help appreciated, don't you think it's a bit of an unfair deal? I mean, I only have to get the money to start as a merchant myself, then find a profitable item to trade. After that I must get some luck and find important clients to buy my merchandise... and if it all goes well, in ten years I will have amased quite a fortune. Then I give you the money to start an Inn and get half the earnings of that Inn"

He waited for her nod to go on

"yet I only get half? it sure sounds as if I would be running the most risks, my friend" Farael shook his head in disbelief "If you had at least some money... earned as money is meant to be earned... I'd consider starting up a business with you, but until then we better keep on drinking and dancing, my friend"

[JennyHallu]

Losse smiled with real honesty, disarmingly, pleased that he was taking her seriously. "We're in the Shire, right? Pipeweed and potatoes, Farael! 'Tis said the King himself has a taste for produce from these hills...And as for money..."

Impulsively, she pulled the purse out from the folds of her skirts, emptying its contents out on the table with a loud clanging. She rapidly stretched her arms around the edges of the table, catching the coins that tried to roll away before they fell. They were an odd mixture of mints and denominations, and she quickly grabbed up about a third of the pile, and pulled it toward her in a smaller, neater stack. "These, I stole. The rest is honest. All I had saved when I left. I don't really know how much it would buy, but it's workable, Farael, it really is." She had the excitement of a child, looking up at him from her really rather small pile of coins. It was not an insignificant amount, but not enough, by itself, to jump-start any venture.

[piosenniel]

Cook lowered her rolling pin and craned her neck a bit to see who had spoken so plaintively. Unthinking, she moved nearer the door and pushed it open a little more with the tip of the rolling pin’s handle. She could see Tindomion, now. He looked as if the wind had all gone out of his sails and so sad that her heart went out to him.

‘Here, here,’ she said, sitting down on the bed beside him. One hand instinctively went to rub his back sympathetically, as she had done for her boys when they were in a cheerless, despairing mood. ‘It can’t be bad as all that, now can it? Tell me what’s happened and perhaps we can sort it out together.’

She looked up toward where Teluyaviel and Emlin were standing and motioned them out of the room . . .

[Folwren]

Tim still stood on the ladder, his knees resting against the floor of the loft and keeping himself up as Wren leaned heavily into his shoulder. He looked with surprise at the girl who had frightened his younger sister and now sat weeping herself. Then he shook his head with a sigh. Girls were impossible and made absolutely no sense at all.

“Look here,” he said, “there’s no call for this. What’s wrong with you?”

Then, before Mirelle could answer, a voice called from below. “Can I help?”

Tim turned his head and looked down. At the foot of the ladder stood the form a woman. He could not really see her face in the dimness. “Probably not,” he answered. It was too late to bother about sounding interesting or very polite. “I don’t even know what the problem is yet. Say, Wren, do dry up and quit being such a rag. Sit up and get over it.” He half gently pushed her away and then finished climbing the ladder. “You can come up, if you’re wanting to find out what the problem is,” he called down. He turned his attention back to the girl. “What’s the matter?” he asked, and this time, his voice was softer. “Should we go and get Cook? She might be able to help, you know.”

[Thinlómien]

First she was dismissed and she waited. Then the boy said: "You can come up, if you’re wanting to find out what the problem is." Somehow, he had the skill to make Brith feel stupid. Actually, most people had the skill. Brith felt herself stupid very often.

"I - I'd rather not", she said embarrassed. She knew she wasn't in the condition to climb up ladders. She cursed by herself. I shouldn't have put my nose in this thing. Now I only seem more stupid.

"I'll wait here, and if you need any assistance ...erm... from below, I'm glad to help", she said. Then she thought of another thing: "If I somehow disturb you or if you want privacy, please tell me and I can leave." Her voice betrayed a tiny bit of her feelings, though that was what she had tried to avoid. Again, unwanted. Needless.

She bit her lip that she wouldn't start crying. The girl probably had more severe problems and she was younger than Brith was. Her mom had always told her big sister and big brother to put Brith's worries higher in their priority, because she was smaller. And that was actually just what Brith decided to do with that crying girl. Help her, and put her own worries aside. And just then, she had to sound pitiable and attention-desiring.

[Undómë]

‘Emlin?’

Teluyaviel’s eyes peeked through the small gap of the opened door. There he was, indeed, looking angry, his fists still balled from where he’d beat against the door. And next to him stood a Halfling, with a rather formidable wooden club of sorts held ready in her hand.

‘Cook?’

Oh, did she feel foolish now. She stepped through the door closing it firmly behind her. ‘So sorry to cause all this trouble,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t Tindo who was breaking things; it was I.’ She looked from the one to the other of them. ‘He was going on so when I told him my news that . . . well, I’m afraid I picked up the water pitcher and threw it at him to get his attention. Luckily, I missed him, but I’m afraid it shattered in a million little pieces when it hit the door.’ She colored slightly and sent a sorry look toward Cook. ‘We’ll pay to have it replaced of course.’

From beyond the closed door came the sounds of a few curses in Elvish and then a long moan of exasperation. Telu opened the door to check on her brother, and through the opening the trio could see him sitting on his bed. He was bent over and his face rested in his hands. He was shaking it, all the while murmuring, ‘And now what shall I tell Mother? She set me one simple task and I’ve failed completely . . .’

[Glirdan]

As Gróin and Lily danced, he noticed that he wasn't having as much fun as he normally would. "And I think Lily is feeling the same way," he thought to himself. "We're both trying to enjoy ourselves, putting on a show for others to make it look like nothing was wrong, yet we can't convince ourselves with that mask."

After the next song finished, Gróin stopped and clapped with everyone else. "Well Lily, it was a pleasure to meet you and to dance with you. I had a great time, but I'm rather tired and need rest. I hope that we'll meet again tomorrow, before I depart for the Blue Mountains. Good night my friend, and thank you... for everything."

[Firefoot]

Lily could hardly bear to listen to Posco going on about how he ought to have had faith in her, not when she had ridden the whole way here from Buckland convinced that he had come here to marry another lass. She let him continue, though; he would want to have it all out. There would be time for her own explanations later, if it came to that.

"Now, then," said Posco. "I have a proposal to make..." Lily’s breath caught in her throat; did he really mean…?

“Lily! Lily! Help! I think someone is after me!” Her head jerked unwillingly towards the sound, and she saw Gróin rushing towards her. Her spirit sank; No, go back to bed! she wanted to cry out. Let time backtrack five or ten seconds! No, Gróin, not now! She had not talked with Posco in months!

“What do you mean, someone is after you?” she asked, a trifle more harshly than she intended. He had interrupted them for this?

“Someone is after me!” he repeated breathlessly. “I heard footsteps in the hallway, so I went to have a look, and someone was running towards me!”

Lily glanced in the direction from which Gróin had come; she saw nothing but a dark and apparently empty hallway. “I don’t see anything… Are you sure it wasn’t just someone else going to their room? And why would someone be after you?” She refrained from saying what she really had in mind about him imagining things and simply going back to bed… like a child seeing ghosts. And truly, unless he had left something important out of his tale, why would anyone be chasing him? Nonsense, all of it. Now, that wasn't quite fair, Lily realized; she had been quite happy for a friend earlier in the evening. But Lily didn't feel like being fair, at least not in her mind. A pity that what she wanted and what she ought to do were so different!