The Golden Perch Inn

[Volo]

Colren couldn't understand why he was in bed, a real bed. Something he hadn't felt for many years, that he felt. Completely confused but happy. Everything looked safe and he was unharmed, just hungry and dirty, but not tired. Should find out where I am, and how I got here. Everything seems somehow clearer, as if a curse left me. Though clear is a wrong word, I can't find any reason to be in a room like this. Or even be at all. Who am I anyway...

Colren sat in the bed smiling and examening the room with his eyes. The only light was coming from a little window, a torch lit outside by the wall. He searched for a candle and found one beside the bed on the floor. As he was thinking how to light it it, Colren felt a pouch attached to his belt. The candle was put back on the floor and as soon as he opened the pouch the door to the room opened and a young man's head peered in. A hobbit! This is really strange. I have rarelly seen folk like this, but they did seem like good people. Still, what are hobbits doing here. Wherever here is...

The man smiled at the hobbit as nicely as he could not knowing what to say. And not really finding any need in saying anything anyway. For some reason he decided that he liked the hobbit.

[Lilly]

Seren gave the Elf a very stern look before she turned away. The tale had just gotten to the part where the little bird had whispered to the man with the bow and she didn’t want to miss a single detail. She turned her attention back to Skirvir.

The man drew back the arrow on his bow and let fly the shaft...

The little girl snuggled up closer against her brother, holding her breath as the Dwarf drew out the image. Her eyes grew side as he went on, spiraling the little crystal dragon down and down to crash splashing in the lake. Seren smiled and nodded her head at Taffy’s words that things would work out alright. ‘They did! They did!’ she murmured to herself, wriggling in delight as she looked at the ‘dead’ beast.

‘And then what?’ she blurted out. ‘Did the Dwarves move back in? And what about Mister Baggins? Did he get his part of the treasure?’

Taffy nudged her in an effort to make her be quiet.

[Forest Elf]

Gable finished up the dishes, stacking the last of the cups and plates. She wiped her hands dry on her apron before placing it back upon its hook.

Gable walked out of the kitchen, where a dwarf, was telling a tale. She listened in on the tale, picturing it taking place in her head as she listened.

[Folwren]

Dick stuck his hands into his pockets as Colren admitted to being hungry. He was glad when a fellow was honest about it. And the poor chap was worried about not being able to pay! Dick shook his head as Colren continued.

"Excuse me, but how were you called again, sir? And what do you mean by tumbling?" the man asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand.

“I’m Seredic Boffin, at your service,” Dick replied. “Mostly called Dick, though.” He cocked his head to one side and his bright eyes studied the tall, thin figure of the man. “Don’t remember your entrance, hey? Well, now, I’m right glad you happened to come into my door just before falling as you did. Aye, you fell right enough.” He nodded his head. “Came in, plopped down a coin on top the counter, called for ale, and then went out like a candle.

“That coin you paid, too, that’ll be enough for your dinner and a night here and maybe more. Depends on just what you need.” He looked up briefly at the man’s face. “Do you want me to bring you something here, or would you like to come out to the great room? We’ve got some elves and dwarves preparing a few songs for our entertainment. You might enjoy that. And you might find someone to talk to. Won’t you come out?”

[Volo]

Relieved that he guessed most of his words right, he still made a mistake, after all Colren seemed to have money. He was also starting to guess where he was, at least he now knew that this was an inn of some kind. Nice guy, this Dick. For his kindness I have to at least present myself. Ah, can't even remember my name... this tumble, I fainted. That must be the reason for this confusion. But so far all has been fine, I'll just continue like this.

"Master Seredic, nice to meet you! I go by the name..." It must be, "Krohn", I remember I've heared this many times, it's my name! "...Kro..." No, wait, it can't be, I feel that this name is lost... dead. No no no, what is going on. I'm called... "Ne", no. "Nor", yes... wait. No! "Na"? "Naren"? Yes, this is it! What's the difference anyway, I shall be called "Naren", nobody will care if I'm not really "Naren". "...Naren. As for my collapse, I'm quite fine now. I'll come to the hall, I would enjoy music over anything, exept food!"

Colren, or Naren as he now thought of himself, followed Dick to the door but then remembered. "Excuse me, I'll just arrange my belongings and tidy myself somehow. It won't take long." Dick nodded and left the room. "Thank you!" shouted Naren.

Now, some time to see more about my past. Colren sat down on the bed and took out his pouch. It was made of strong leather and by the wait and size did contain something interesting. Hmm... Surelly this can't belong to the same man who is in clothes as ragged as mine. He slowly opened the pouch with his eyes closed... As Colren opened his eyes, he dropped the pouch with and let a shout of astonishment.

His pouch was full of gold! Golden coins! By the look of them, the coins were from Gondor. But that was not all Colren's pouch contained. There were neatly put letters. Colren took the first one, an old and weathered letter and opened it. He read it once, then again, and again. A tear came down his cheak...

The letter was dated III 2937. And written by a woman called Elisi, just a typical love-letter: lots of promises and complaining how evil parents are. But of course to Colren, who still didn't know his real name, for the letter was adressed to "My Love", this meant much. He remembered something, Elisis eyes. He lived with her after her father died. Anything else Colren couldn't understand yet. He also desided to read the rest later.

Colren hid his pouch and exited the room, to confirm the house to be an inn. He walked to the door looking around and examening the smallest details, Colren literaly bumped into a younger but stouter hobbit, smelling of fish. The two fell on the floor. Colren was the first one to recover. He helped the hobbit to his feet and said "I'm terribly sorry. I was lost in my thoughts. Hope you aren't hurt." But the hobbit didn't look hurt, rather suprised. "Oh, my name is Naren." Colren added with a smile.

[Tevildo]

Tollers brushed himself off and extended a hand of welcome to the newcomer. "No bother. No bother at all, Naren . I am pleased to meet you and that your earlier tumble was nothing serious. Lucky thing I wasn't carrying any plates or flagons this time. But don't worry. This mishap was entirely my fault. I'm afraid I was lollygaggling as usual." To tell the truth, the hobbit had been ruminating on his coin and how he might find out about the room the dwarves would be occupying, wondering if he should try to ask Master Dick or do some discreet sleuthing on his own.

Masking his embarrasment, Tollers smoothed out the front of his vest, his fingers instinctively slipping inside the inner pocket to make sure that his treasured coin still rested within its hiding place. To his acute distress, the hobbit discovered his pocket was empty. A look of alarm spread instantly over Toller's face.

"Oh, dear, dear, I seem to have dropped something.....something important," he mumbled to Naren. "You go over by the bar and make yourself at home. Someone will serve you in a minute. You're not from these parts, I think, but the folk around here are quite friendly. I'll join you in just a minute. That is...unless you'd like to help me look. You see, I've lost a coin, a special coin, and must find it immediately."

With that Tollers plopped down on all fours and began crawling about the floor, nosing under tables and chairs to see if his precious gold piece was anywhere nearby. Once or twice, he managed to bump into the feet of some of the guests and apologized for his clumsiness. A number of the customers looked at him in a rather odd way. Tollers wished that someone could help him, although he was afraid that whoever picked up the coin would ask too many tricky questions for him to answer truthfully. Meanwhile, in the background, the hobbit could hear the strains of a lively tune that any lad or lass would find perfectly delightful for dancing.

[Volo]

So, this hobbit also knows me. But not well, that is good. Colren was looking as the poor hobbit started crawling on the floor. And I thought I had no money... How can a coin be so important? Coins are just cold metal. And for some reason I don't feel easy with metal around... After all Colren couldn't just stand there watching the hobbit being kicked by careless feet. He began crouching himself and looking for the peace of metal. I might not like coins because I have lots of them myself, suprisingly.

After a long and pointless search Colren crawled up to his new acquaintance and asked "I'm sorry that you lost your coin, it was really my mistake, for that I have to help. But it would be helpfull if you could describe this coin somehow... Or I could just replace it, people have to pay for their mistakes and that I will do. If you wish." Colren was rather frustrated and really wished that the hobbit would accept Colren's Gondorian coin instead of searching for his own "precious" coin. Also Colren was getting really hungry, of course he tried his best not to show his feelings. Also the music was tempting Colren leave the hobbit to his problems. What am I thinking? This lad needs help, so I'd better help if nobody else wants to. And this is partly my fault. At that Colren smiled a bitter smile.

[Folwren]

Now what was this?

Dick stood in the doorway leading into the Big People’s wing of the house. His arms were folded as he watched Naren and Tollers crawl about the floor on their hands and knees. He chuckled as Tollers emerged from a near by table, red in the face and apologetic for the sixth time as he explained to one of the customers what was going on.

As funny as it seemed, however, Dick knew it wasn’t good business to be bumping into people while they tried to talk. He walked forward to intercept Tollers’ searching and to ask what it was all about. As he drew near, he saw Naren stop near the hobbit and sit up.

“I’m sorry that you lost your coin,” the man said, “it was really my mistake, for that I have to help. But it would be helpful if you could describe this coin somehow…or I could just replace it. People have to pay for their mistakes and I will do that, if you wish.”

Dick stopped a few paces away, wondering. A coin? Where had Tollers acquired a coin? And why was it causing him to crawl over every foot of the common room to search for it? He looked towards Tollers, wondering what his answer to Naren would be.

[Tevildo]

Tollers glanced back over his shoulder at Colren and warily shook his head. Although the hobbit's words were exceedingly polite, the dour look that was spread over his face underlined just how upset he was over the loss of his dear coin, "Oh, no. You're very kind indeed, but I'm afraid this coin can't be easily replaced. You see, it's special. It's very old and has a picture of a dwarf axe on one side."

Tollers hastily bit his tongue and stopped himself from saying anything more. It would not do to give out more information. His friend Jack had told him to be quiet about their find until they could go back and look again. Still, the hobbit knew his precious had to be somewhere nearby. He distinctly remembered hearing something clink and roll away when he'd first taken his tumble.

"I just need to look harder," Tollers muttered to himself. With that, he put his nose to the ground and, like a hound on the trail, redoubled his efforts to locate his missing "precious".

[Forest Elf]

Gable thought she'd head over and talk to Cir and Cir again. She had only walked a few paces when she saw Toller's crawling about, looking for something. Then, to her left a bit, she saw something shiny. She walked over and leaned down, it was a gold coin, with a hammer on one side.

Gable walked over to Tollers, who was still crawling around; and asked holding the gold coin out, "Excuse me, Tollers, but did you loose a gold coin?"

[Tevildo]

Tollers looked up at the Elf and sheepishly nodded. His pants were covered with dustballs, and he had tripped over the feet of at least half a dozen guests. After wiping his dirty palms on the shoulders of his vest, he held out his hand to the Elf and grinned, "Errr...that does seem to be my coin. Thank you. Thank you so much for finding it. I really don't know what I would have done if I had permanently lost it."

This time, Tollers tucked the gold coin securely in the small leather pouch that he wore about his waist. He was still feeling a little nervous about the Elf. He had never seen or talked with such a graceful creature until he'd come to work at the Inn. Some of the staff seemed so free and easy about the Elves, but Tollers always felt as if he had two left feet or perhaps an extra ear stuck to his head whenever he found himself confronting one of the fair ones face-to-face. Still, it would not do to be unfriendly. Master Dick had given Tollers more than one friendly lecture on how he must make an effort to show interest in the guests, even those who might look a little strange on the outside.

Stumbling over his words, Tollers managed to stammer out an invitation, "Looks like the dinner business is slacking off. I'm going to get a little supper. Care to join me? Perhaps listen to the music? And, you too....." He glanced over quizzically at the tall fellow who'd banged into him and wondered if he'd accept an invitation to eat. "You know, I'm just a simple farm lad, but I bet you two both have some wild stories to tell."

For the moment at least, Tollers forgot about the coin and the fact that he wanted to speak with one of the Dwarves later that night.

[Folwren]

Dick felt rather curious about Tollers’ coin, but he had no chance to question him about it. Gable had come near and offered it to him and Tollers and Colren had stood up. A few words passed and Tollers and Colren walked off with each other while Gable hurried quickly from the room. Dick shrugged and decided to leave him without questioning until later, at least.

“I wonder if that’s why he wanted to know where the dwarves were going to sleep tonight,” he murmured to himself as he walked through the common room. “A coin with a dwarven axe on it. . .very old, he said. I wonder where he got it?” He ‘hmmed’ to himself as he cast a quick eye over everyone to make sure nothing was needed.

He only half listened to the songs being sung as he walked quietly about, his mind drifting from one duty to the next and considering the happenings of the day. It had been a very long day. . .Dick welcomed these calmer, more thoughtful songs, melancholy and sad though they were. When Cir and Cir had first asked him if they could play for their keep, he had thought dancing and such, but now, the singing of old songs seemed more fit.

He stopped his progress when he heard the elvish song start. The music accompanying the two voices was more sad than the other two and though Dick didn’t understand the words, the language of the harp and the voices touched and pulled at his heart.

The last notes faded and a silence filled the room momentarily. Dick finally drew a great sigh and turned his eyes away from the performers. His once more glanced around and to his surprise, saw a young woman at the counter. She leaned on it slightly and her eyes, too, were fixed on the singers. Dick hurried forward and went around the counter just as talk was beginning again around the room.

“I’m so sorry. I hope you haven’t been waiting long. Can I help you?”

[Envinyatar]

The fair voice of the male Elf was clear and bright in the smoke filled room. And that of his sister wove in and about the lament in a lovely harmony. Hithadan’s gaze swept round the room, gauging the crowd’s reaction. Not many, indeed hardly any of those gathered, would understand what the song was about. But he could read in their faces their appreciation of the great sorrow which lay behind the words.

‘Now tell me Gil-galad’s fate was not sung most sorrowfully and most fair,’ he spoke low to Tavaro. ‘Surely the songs of the lad and of Mistress Tanwen are tinged with sorrow. But that of the Elves just sung is marrow-deep sorrow itself.’

[Volo]

While the elf went to change. Colren and Tollers walked into the corner of the inn and sat down. Colren ordered some basic (but not by Naren-standards) food and beer for the three. I have money. Big money. It mightn't be such a good idea to use them rather openly, but I'm starving. Only, the origin of all this gold is strange...

"Tollers, so you got your coin back and all's well. But I would like to know more about the people here, while our companion is away, I would appriciate if you could tell me."

[Noinkling]

When Taffy had begun to sing, Skirvir had nodded at Bívor, miming as he did so that he pick up his flute. The two Dwarves played very softly, letting the boy’s words be to the fore while their little harmonies gently ran beneath it.

For the woman’s song, it was Skirvir who played along with the man’s fiddle. He had ventured once with his father and a small group of his father’s companions down to the Sea of Rhun. It was the largest body of water the young Dwarf had ever seen. And though now he knew the Great Sea was ten times ten time ten bigger, still the daunting majesty of that smaller sea stayed with him. And when he recalled stories from the older Dwarves of that great water that hemmed in the lands of their world, he was in awe of the fact that men would venture out upon it for any reason.

As the Elves began to play, Bívor once again raised his flute to his lips. But his brother, Bávor, waved him to silence as the first clear notes left Cir’s lips.

‘Now, that was a lovely song, was it not? I can’t say as I understood any of it. But someone much beloved must have died; someone held very dear,’ Bávor said.

Bívor cocked his head at Skirvir. His cousin’s hands were clasped about his ale mug, his eyes peering into it as if were a bottomless well. ‘Now you can’t say that wasn’t as fair a song as you have heard,’ Bívor said, nudging his cousin from his woolgathering.

For his part, Skirvir looked up, meeting Bívor’s gaze. ‘Oh, aye….it was fair, in it’s own way. Bit on the gloomy side. But fair enough, I’ll reckon it.’

Bávor laughed, and topped off his cousin’s mug, as well as his own and his brother’s. ‘A rare compliment from a Dwarf to an Elf!’ In broad gestures he mimed writing on the palm of his hand. ‘I shall have to put this day down in my journal of our trip and mark it with a star, I think.’

Skirvir raised his bushy brows and grumbled something at Bávor. Then shrugged his shoulders grudgingly and drank down half his mug.

[Folwren]

“I can give you a room,” Dick said, “but I’m quite sorry to have to tell you that I can’t get you any mead. I do have a very light brew of beer you might like. Would you be willing to have a go at that? I can draw you up a taste to see how you like it.”

Valesseka seemed to hesitate a moment before she slowly nodded. “That will be fine. Just a full mug.”

Dick nodded and picked up a mug and turned to fill it. He turned again, the foam rising nearly to over flowing and set it on the counter. “What about something to eat? The cook’ll find you something, even this late. What do you say?” He looked up with bright expectant eyes, waiting for her to answer.

[Tevildo]

Tollers grinned back at Colren and responded. "So you want to know what folk are like around here? That's a hard question to answer in a few words. But maybe this will help. Just take a look at those bowls." Tollers nodded towards the center of the table where a number of platters sat overflowing with food. "I slipped them out of the kitchen when the staff wasn't looking. You see, whenever I eat with friends, I prefer the food be served family style, platters and bowls lined up in the middle with everybody reaching out and scrambling to get big spoonfuls onto their plate. That way everybody shares and there's always enough for seconds. That's what my own family did. And that's the way most folk around here are. A family sticks together and shares. If you're rich you might have fancier things in the pot to share. If you're poor, you get by the best you can. Some eat more and some eat less, but nobody in the family goes hungry."

"Most folks around here make family the center of their lives. What happens to their mum or brother is the most important thing in the world. They might even live a mile or two down the road. That's what I do. But they never stop thinking about the folks back home. I'd like to work here a while and then take a little trip adventuring. But at the end of it all, I'll come back to the old burrow and maybe build myself a little house right next door. Maybe help my sisters find hobbit lads who'll be good to them or take care of my dad when he gets too old to do the farming."

Tollers sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "I guess that's not too exciting for the likes of you, but that's how most folk around here think. Now, that's enough of me. Even if our Elf doesn't get back soon, I'm going to insist you tell me where you're from."

[Mithalwen]

The song his sister had started was an old one and Cir realised it had been a good choice since some of the company at least recognised it, even if the words and tune had suffered some variation as they had passed through the years and miles from it's creation.

Those who knew not the words hummed or clapped and it seemed its sprightly, rhythmic tune might inspire the younger of heart and nimble of foot to clear enough space in the busy bar to dance. The elf's slender hands drew music effortlessly from the small harp and the easy joyful melody required little concentration. His bright eyes took in the scene, noting and older elf with a ranger. He did not recognise them but a pang of anxiety struck him wondering if he had some connection with the party of pilgrims the twins had abandoned earlier in the day.

The twins were so used to understanding each other and generally found each other's company sufficient that they had not yet developed much skill in the osanwe kenta but Carantilion knew that older elves could communicate by thought even across great distances. His father in Rivendell could, albeit with great concentration, "speak" to his sister, Mithalwen at the Havens he remembered. He realised at that moment that they had forgotten this fact when reckoning on the time it would take for their parents to find out about their truancy. He sighed and carried on playing - it was to late to worry now and if the elf was come for them he would have said something by now. And he doubted that they could be punished at a distance....

[Farael]

Swing to the left, now swing to the right
Wiggle your HEY! Just dance all night…

“No, wait… that’s not it. Oh, yeah”

Swing to the left, dancing…

“No, that’s even worse. Where am I anyway?” The landscape looked rather different than the last time he had checked. All was well, he had meant to get lost and lost he was now. A deep grumble from his stomach reminded him of his one mistake. He had always wanted to travel, to explore the world and perhaps find that elusive muse that would finally release all his creative potential. He had set out at last, his only destination to be wherever his feet lead him. Sadly, as he soon found out, feet lead nowhere on an empty stomach, and so he had been forced to rely on the generosity of a few farmers along the way. Lucky it was that his feet had chosen the way to The Shire, should they have gone the other way he might have found himself starved in the middle of the wilderness.

If he remembered properly the words of Farmer Stoor, he was now in Stock. Robby knew one thing, and one thing only about Stock. The inn there was almost as good as the Prancing Pony. Of course, no inn could be as good as the good ol’ pony, but it was still a high compliment.

Swing to the right, now swing to the left
and while you are danc…
“Still not there. Making lyrics is a hungry work! And so is all this walking. Now where is that Inn?”

At length, and after walking right by it and not seeing it, twice, the man finally found the Golden Perch. By that time it was hard to tell who was grumbling louder, his stomach or himself.

“Swing to the… Do I ever want to start my song this way? Yes, sure, swinging is good, but is it a good start? How about Tell me’ ma, when I get home… hmmm… the boys won’t leave the girls alone… hmph, well, I will have to work on that, but not until after dinner!”

With that he gently knocked at the door of the Inn. It would not be polite, he figured, to barge in uninvited so late an hour. There was no response, so Robby tried again. Getting slightly impatient, he was about to try one more time, when someone finally opened the door.

[Volo]

As soon as Tollers left, Colren wished the Elf good night and rushed back to his room. Bilbo Baggins... Hmm... This is so familiar, but what, that I don't know... Colren was tired and it was pitch black when he sat down on his bed. He couldn't wait any longer. He opened his pouch and took the next letter by time, it wasn't sent much later after the first letter, but the writer was different. It was written by a strong hand, but nervous. Colren read it carefully a few times:

Dear brother!

I must congratulate and also warn you. Elisi is a fair lass, I am happy for you. But he, our father will be furious if he hears about you marrying a woman of no high position. Father is a good man, he keeps all of us safe, his only problem is his greed. Well you know, he doesn't see any sence in a marriage just by love. If Elisi's family had any money, I'm sure father would be happy to wed you.

Don't worry too much, you can trust me to keep your secret. if you need help, I'm the first one to volunteer. I know I can't do much from here, but in three months when I return home from my study, I'll try to convince father to consider this.

Sorry I can't write more now, I'm called.

-Your older brother

PS: I got the presents you asked me to buy, here in Gondor they sell everything.


The letter was enden in a hurry. Colren sighed, still he didn't know his name. I'll have to continue being Naren... What he did know was that he had an older brother, who studied in Gondor, which must mean that Colren isn't from Gondor after all. Or just didn't live there at the time. Colren learned also about being from a rich family and having a greedy father. No memories came to him this time. He was really sad, Colren felt weak.

Colren dropped the pouch and letter on the floor beside the bed and fell down on his bed. He couldn't sleep most of the night, he was trying to analyze the letter somehow. I'll read more tomorrow, just too tired for that now. And those few lines were enough for now.

[Volo]

Colren felt quite uncomfortalbe, he had no idea what to answer. And he really wished his life was as simple as the hobbit's. I could just say to Tollers that I don't want to tell about my past... That would be better than lying. "Well, Tollers, you see..." No, no, no... This is bad. I have to invent something better. "...well, I'll tell you about myself, but first I'll go wash my hands and tell the cook not to worry about my order. I won't leave you waiting." Or this delicious looking food.

Colren searched for the kitchen. He found it, but just then he understood that there was music, it would have otherwise been a merry song, but now Colren felt as if this too dragged him to some sad memory. This is unbearable, I have to read the letters, I have to. Then I might answer Tollers question better. Thinking, Colren did walk into the kitchen. The cook wasn't there. Colren quickly washed his hands and wandered, should he search the cook to cancel his dinner. He soon desided that he didn't want to meet new people just yet.

Colren walked back to Tollers and sat down. "Now, it seems that our elven friend hasn't come back. What is her name by the way?" Colren tried to seem happy, but inside he was really confused. He began his tale. "Like I told you, my name is Naren. I come from the land of Gondor. There are giant cities in Gondor, but I have never visited them. I'm more of a farmboy myself too. I don't know how my family is doing, which is really sad, but that happens when you go on a adventure. And I don't even really know why I wandered here. I do have interest in history, at the moment I'm studying hobbit-history. If you know somebody who knows more about this or is otherwise interested, please don't keep it a secret. Books would do well." I can't really tell anything else not to be too suspicious, this I might think was a good answer. "But let me excuse me, may I have some food to warm myself." I really hope the elf will come soon...

[Undómë]

Opening the door for Robby Appledore . . .


Rowan could not quite be sure if she heard the knocking or not. The common room was noisy with the babble of many conversations; the last waning claps of appreciation for the Elves’ song; and the sound of table legs scraping across the wood floor. A number of the local men, their bellies filled with good food and Perch ale, were in the mood for dancing and had begun to push back the tables to clear an area.

She almost stepped away when the tapping came again. And this time, since she was standing quite close to it, there was no hesitation on her part. Rowan set down her tray of dishes and dirty mugs on a nearby table and opened the door. For a moment she stood looking at the figure just a few feet away.

The inn’s light swung in the light night’s breeze throwing a pale shine at the man’s back. He was taller than she was, though not as tall as some men that had come to the Perch, and seemed of a sturdy build. Backlit by the lamp’s glow, his hair was of some darkish hue she thought. She could not see his face well, though it seemed it bore a wide smile as she stepped to the side to let him in and the light from the room’s lamps and the fireplace washed over him.

‘Come in! Come in, sir! Let’s not let the night’s chill creep into the room. It’s nice and warm inside,’ she went on motioning him in with a gesture. Closing the door firmly behind him, she pointed to the pegs near the door where other cloaks hung. ‘You can leave yours there if you wish. Plenty of tables,’ she said with an inviting smile. ‘I hope you like music – some of the folk are singing and playing their instruments for us tonight.’ Rowan pointed out a table just at the edge of the newly cleared dance floor. ‘Just set yourself down and I’ll be right back to see what you’d like to eat and drink.’

She picked up her tray of mugs and dishes and made to go to the kitchen. ‘Oh, how rude of me! My name’s Rowan . . . Rowan Muddifoot.’ She flashed him another smile. ‘Be right back!’

[Arry]

‘. . . it's been a long day, wouldn't you say?' Cook said. 'I'll brew some willowbark up for you at the same time, and some for Primrose, too; even if she doesn't say she wants some, she'll probably be needing it just the same.’

Will sat himself down in one of the wooden chairs, watching as Cela bustled about making tea. ‘It has been a long day, Miz Cela,’ he said, nodding his head. ‘Don’t know if I’ll be able to stay up much longer. My arm aches and to be honest so does my head. Just a dull ache, but it’s constant. I think I’ll just have some more of your tea and head off for bed.’ He fingered the seamed edge of the quilted placemat on the table in front of him. ‘And I think you’re right…about Prim, that is. She looks tired, too.’

He shifted a little in his chair, trying to find a more comfortable position for his arm. ‘Maybe we can get her to drink another cup of tea and you can get her to go to bed herself.’ His cheeks flushed a little as he went on. ‘I mean…I think it would be better coming from you…being a girl and all…’

[piosenniel]

Rhys was humming as he plucked softly at the strings of his fiddle. Satisfied that the strings were in tune, he picked up his bow and nudged his sister with the tip of it. ‘Shall we do another?’ He nodded to the lads busy moving back the tables. ‘A dance tune, perhaps. You can play the hand drum. It’s there by the fiddle case.

Tanwen ignored the nudge and the question, making some non-committal reply, or rather sounds. Her attention was elsewhere, on a certain table across the room. She cupped her chin in her hands, her elbows resting firmly on the table-top. ‘So, who do you think that fellow is over there? That Elf, that Hithadan’s talking to.’

She twisted in her chair to look at her brother. ‘It’s interesting, don’t you think? When you look at the two of them over there. The Elf is certainly the taller of the two, by a good hand and a half, wouldn’t you say. And he’s not that thin, so he most likely outweighs the Ranger. Still,’ she went on, turning back to watch the two of them again, ‘Hithadan seems the bigger of the two, doesn’t he?’

[Tam Lin]

Tavaro chuckled as he looked from the ginger-haired woman back to his friend. Hithadan was blithely unaware of her blue-eyed scrutiny; his eyes were taking in the two newcomers to the inn. Sizing them up, weighing them.

‘Be back in a moment,’ the Elf said, rising from his chair. His destination was not the table where the man and woman sat with the elder Halfling lady, but rather the table where the three Dwarves sat.

He gave a nod to the large fellow with the reddish brown hair; the one who had neither played nor sung when the two young Elves made their music. The other two Dwarves, whether by nature or by the quantity of ale which buoyed them up, he found more welcoming. In an easy manner he complimented them on their flute playing and asked if they might accompany him in a song. There was a whispered conference among the three of them, in which a few bars of some song were hummed; the words to it spoke low and finally agreed upon.

Tavaro returned to his table and fetched the pack stashed by his chair. From it he drew out a fair sized something wrapped in a soft, sea blue, finely woven stole. His harp. The Elf’s long, slender fingers ran over the strings and with a few quick twists of the metal pins which held the various strings, the harp was brought into tune.

‘This is an old song, from an old place west of here,' he began, looking about the room. 'A lovely land of trees, hills, green grass, and rivers, that the great sea has now swallowed up. There were men and women living in that place whose fair tongue is now mostly lost in the passing years. Many of the Eldar made their homes in that land and Dwarves, too, resided there.'

‘It’s an old theme, too . . . a familiar, and oft inescapable one . . .’ He raised one eyebrow slightly and smiled as if to himself. ‘But here, let us begin it and let you good folk judge for yourself.’ He nodded to Bívor who lifted his flute to his lips and began the melody. Tavaro joined him, picking out the tune on the harp strings. His fair voice sang the old words softly as Bávor spoke the words in the common tongue . . .


Tá mé mo shuí ó d’éirigh’n ghealach aréir
Ag cur teine síos gan scíth is á fadó go gear
Tá bunadh a tí ‘na luí is tá mise liom féin
Tá na coiligh ag glaoch ‘san saol ‘na gcodladh ach mé.

I am up since the moon arose last night
Putting down a fire again and again and keeping it lit
The family is in bed and here am I by myself
The cocks are crowing and the country is asleep but me.

‘Sheacht mh’anam déag do bhéal do mhalaí is do ghrua
Do shúil ghorm ghlé-gheal fár thréig mé aiteas is suairc
Le cumha do dhiaidh ní léir dom an bealach a shiúil
Is a charaid mo chléibh tá na sléibhte gabhail idir mé ‘s tú.

I love your mouth, your eyebrows and your cheeks
Your bright blue eyes for whose sake I gave up hunting the wily fox
In longing for you I cannot see to walk the road
Friend of my bosom, the mountains lie between me and you.

Deireann lucht léinn gur claoite an galar an grá
Char admhaigh mé é no go raibh sé ‘ndiaidh mo chroí istigh a char
Ó aicid ró-ghéar, faraor nár sheachain mé í
Chuir sí arraing is céad go géar trí cheart-lár mo chroí.

Learned men say that love is a fatal sickness
I never admitted it until now that my heart is broken
It’s a very painful illness, alas, I have not avoided it
And it sends a hundred arrows through the core of my heart.

Casadh bean-tsí dom thíos ag Lios Bhéal an Átha
Is d’fhiafraigh mé díthe an scaoilfeadh glas ar bith grá
Is é dúirt sí os íseal i mbriathra soineannta sáimh
“Nuair a théann sé fán chroí cha scaoiltear as é go bráth.”

I met a faerie woman in the Rath of Béal an Átha
I asked her would any key unlock the love in my heart
And she said in soft, simple language
“When love enters the heart it will never be driven from it.”

[Celuien]

After Will left for the kitchen, Primrose leant back in her chair to listen to the music filling the common room. Despite all the folk gathered in the room, she felt lonely. Other than Will, her friends were all busy. Primrose wanted nothing more than to join the bustle of the kitchen, chatting with Rowan or Cela while ladling soup into a bowl. Except, maybe, to tease Will (with Cela's help).

Between loneliness and the sad melody played by the Elf, Primrose began to feel a little downhearted until she spotted Will and Cela heading for her table with steaming mugs in hand. Not a moment too soon, she thought.

Reaching for the mug of tea Cela offered, Primrose asked, "How are things in the kitchen?"

[Valesse]

In a somewhat lost and distant voice Valesseka heard herself saying "Yes, please." to Dick the bright eyed innkeeper. She was much busier trying to take in all of the late activity around her when her attention was drawn to a light knocking on the door.

No, it's not my place to go answering doors for an inn. Why would someone be knocking anyways? Well, I guess it is late...

Valesseka stared at the round door for a moment before lifting her mug to drink. It was a fairly good brew... a really good brew, infact! and from the smell outside the food would be savoury and delicious also. Quickly forgetting the about the door-rapping, Valesseka sat down and took another swig of the stuff only to be lured into a trance by the musical elves. She was quite happy here, and somewhere in the back of her mind decided that she needed a nice long rest before continuing on her journey home.

As the elves sang and played she could feel herself starting to hum along with their merry sound until, at last, the sound of knocking came again. Vainly she hoped someone would answer it quickly, she had far too much beer and elven music to delight in to be bothered much longer by that silly round door.

[Noinkling]

Skirvir nodded thoughtfully at Seren as she asked her questions. ‘Good questions!’ he assured her as he stroked the sides of his chin where his beard grew thick. ‘And you know, I think I’ll end the tale here with the answering of them.’

He leaned forward a little on the step, easing out his left leg where he’d bent it beneath him as he first sat down. His toes had gone to sleep and he wriggled them about in his boot trying to bring some feeling back into them. ‘Let’s see – we Dwarves did move back beneath the Lonely Mountain. Cleared the passageways of dragon filth and put the gold and gems and such into storage rooms. And Mister Baggins – well he fared well enough. One of the best paid burglars we Dwarves have had the pleasure to work with. Deserved every bit of his portion.’ He cocked his head to one side, thinking. ‘It would be interesting, don’t you think to have Mister Baggins here where we could let him tell us the rest of the story? How he fared getting back to Bag End and what adventures he had along the way. I’m afraid I only know a wee bit of it.....just what I’ve passed on to you.

Skirvir reached out for his little carving of Smaug and scooped him up along with the small pile of gold coins that had played the treasure. He stood up, shoving the coins into one pocket and the carving into another.

‘I think I see someone’s mother waiting for them,’ he said, looking toward Dorlind and Daisy. ‘And you two,’ he went on turning his gaze to Taffy and Seren. ‘Best I not keep you out too late, else your mami says no more stories for the both of you.’

He watched as the children headed toward the door of the inn, waving as they turned back to wave to him. From the corner of his eye, Skirvir saw the Elf rise up from his seat on the ground in a graceful, effortless motion. He paid him no more mind than this, and turned to follow after the children.

[Lilly]

‘Taffy, Seren! There you are now!’ Lila Sandybanks gathered her children to her with hugs as they came running in from outdoors. ‘Was it a good story?’ she asked them, smiling as they nodded their heads fiercely and vied with each other for space to make their opinions known. She listened to each, nodding her head at the appropriate times, and giving the occasional ‘Oh my!’ at the most exciting parts.

Seren had begun to yawn by the end of her recounting, though Taffy still looked wide awake. ‘Come help me get your sister to bed,’ his mother told him. ‘Bring along that little glass of warmed milk for her, won’t you?’ she said, pointing toward the little tray Rowan had left for her. At a frown of protest from Seren, Lila shook her head ‘no’; it was the girl’s bedtime. And ‘yes’ there was a spoonful of honey and just a drop of vanilla to make the sleepytime drink bring sweet dreams. It was not long before Seren had gone off to sleep, mid-grumble about how unfair it was that she had to go to bed just because she was five years old.

Taffy returned to the common room with his mother. She’d told him there was to be music tonight. And older lad that he was now, he could stay up for a bit to listen. He beamed with a certain pride at this allowance......and stifled a yawn that was trying to work its way to his mouth.

[Tam Lin]

Tavaro stamped the dirt from his boots and shook his cloak a bit, encouraging the dust from his travels to find another resting place. The others having gone in, he stood for a moment at the closed door of the inn, debating once again whether he would rather spend the night in the open, beneath the starred sky or enter the confines of the Perch.

His left hand came up, making the decision for him it seemed, and pushed open the door. A rush of warm air, flickering light, and the smells of wood smoke commingled with those of pipeweed and food washed over and around him. Voices rose and fell amidst the clink of mugs against each other, laughter wove about them. And it was a merry sound, he thought, inviting. His boots followed the entry of his staff as it tapped lightly on the wooden floor of the entryway.

Spying a small out of the way table where he could observe the goings on in the room, Tavaro made his way toward it, slipping gracefully among the other, more crowded tables. An accommodating server took his order – hot tea and honey and a bowl of that enticing stew if there were any left.

There, nearer the fire was the Dwarf he’d heard tell the tale of Smaug. With several other of his kin....and two young Elves. And just coming back into the room was the boy he’d sat next to. As he waited for his food and drink, he drew out one of his small books and a piece of hardened charcoal wrapped on one end in a scrap of cloth. He looked closely toward the table of Dwarves and began to sketch them.

[Lilly]

Taffy works up the courage to speak to Cir and Cir


Taffy grew restless on the hard wooden chair; no amount of wriggling could make it any more comfortable. His mother and father were busy discussing the next day’s business – lucky for him, really, since their attention was turned away from him. He hopped down from his seat as quietly as he could and made his way toward the table where the Dwarves were sitting.

On his way, he saw a curious sight. A hobbit crawling about on hands and knees looking for something. He had been joined by one of the Big Folk. And even with his help, it seemed that luck eluded the Hobbit. But there was one of the Fair Folk, a pretty lady. Her sharp eyes had found the little trinket and handed it back to the Hobbit. Taffy smiled and nodded his head. He liked things to turn out well.

A glance back at the Dwarves’ table put him back on his little mission. He crept closer, stopping a little ways away. He didn’t want to bother the Dwarves and their company – two Elves. He just wanted to see what interesting things they were doing.

Two of them had flutes, while another seemed to be clearing his throat and humming. Oh! I’ll bet he’s going to sing! Taffy thought to himself. Skirvir did not seem that much into the festivities. Perhaps he was just resting after the grand story he’d told earlier. The Elves, too, had their instruments. Now Taffy had heard that the Fair Folk had wonderful voices. And when they sang it was as if the wind sang through the trees.

Unable to resist, the boy stepped up to the table and looked up at the Elves. The back of his neck grew hot and he could feel a flush creeping up to his cheeks.

‘Pardon me,’ he said, his voice a little croaky as his mouth had suddenly become quite dry. He fixed his eyes on the fair faces of the Elves. ‘Are you going to sing some Elvish songs for us?’

[Valesse]

More than a bit exhausted from her travels, Valesseka had stumbled into a little establishment with curiously short beings running around in it. Completely uncertain to what they were, she was at first careful to not inspect one too closely. That was, however, until she caught scent of some savory smell waffing down from the air. Certainly this community of small beings must be excellent chefs, and Valesseka was not one to miss a good meal.

She found the Golden Perch Inn easily, but finding the door took a far greater amount of time. Who had ever heard of a round door? A round green door at that! Double checking to make sure that she was, indeed, about the enter the inn and not some curious halfling's house Valesseka ducked her way inside. Here there were many tiny folk. Several more than she had seen outside, for sure, and that excited her. When she straightened out again from navigating through the doorway, the Arnorian took in more of the commonroom. to her right the counter and before her a large fireplace which paled in comparison to the warm atmosphere the room was given by the clients.

Simply put, Valesseka felt very much at home here. Perhaps so much so that she would prefer to stay a night or two to regain her energy to head along once more toward home. Forgetting the counter for now, Valesseka sat down in a very inviting looking chair before surveying the room once more.

[Volo]

When the hobbit said "Oh, no. You're very kind indeed, but I'm afraid this coin can't be easily replaced. You see, it's special. It's very old and has a picture of a dwarf axe on one side", Colren became sad. Not understanding why, but guessing that it was some hidden memory. What do I have against coins... or dwarves? Coins are just coins and dwarves... well, they are just dwarves, no reason to dislike them. Still Colren didn't like the idea of this.

An elf came and gave the hobbit, Tollers his coin. That is that. Now, without any more messing, to eat! Though, this elf woman... Colren couldn't place an elf into his life, but he didn't feel too happy about them either. Neither elves seemed mysterious Hobbits on the other side, they are really nice. Live a happy life, what else could anyone want. He did feel that he would talk much more with the strangers in the inn.

As Colren was brushing his clothes clean and watching somewhere into the corner, Tollers managed to say something about supper, music and joining him. Corlen turned and looked Tollers into his eyes. The hobbit continued "You know, I'm just a simple farm lad, but I bet you two both have some wild stories to tell." "A simple farm lad" doesn't sound so bad. But how can I know, doubt that I would be a good farmer... I'd be happy to chat with Tollers, but the elf... Oh, I'll try... "Wild stories", I can't really be telling those, I know less wild stories than any hobbit. At the moment. The elf can do the storytelling! Colren smiled again. "It would be an honor to eat with you two. If it's fine with you, let's sit in a corner." Colren turned to the elf, "I am Naren. Rarelly meet so easygoing elves..." Huh? Why did I say that? Aargh, this hidden memory makes me mad! I might not even want to know the answer to all this. Why can't I just live peacefully? Colren's smile wasn't real anymore.

[Envinyatar]

Hithadan sat back in his chair, his hand going up to rub the back of his neck. ‘Ah, well, I did have someone I thought would need keeping watch on. A shady looking fellow I had my eye on before he came to the inn. He looked a ruffian or near enough one that I wanted to make sure he didn’t bother the good folks hereabouts.’

He took a swallow of the tea Tavaro had poured for him and watched as the Elf continued to sketch. ‘What about you? What business brings you here?’

[Mithalwen]

Cir had taken the harp for himself. He could play flutes and the like well enough but stringed instruments seemed to have more individual personalities, of course it would not provide the same excuse not to sing. He touched its strings, it was small and horribly out of tune but he could soon fix that at least and it seemed sweet voiced enough. His slender hands had turned the pegs gently trying each note gently so as not to disturb the company until they started properly. His ears were able to distiguish the harp's notes at a level almost inaudible to mortals and he finished with a pianisimmo glissando.

He was ready to begin, when a voice sounded tentatively at his side ‘Pardon me are you going to sing some Elvish songs for us?’.

Carantilion looked at Taffy, mesmerised a little by the hobbit child, "Well we thought we would mainly sing things that everyone might know and tunes for dancing" but seeing the child's face drop in disappointment he added " but we will sing some Elvish songs if you want us to but you know our songs can sound very sad ...won't you mind that?".