The Seventh Star Inn

[Mnemosyne]

Alaric nodded distractedly at Bethberry's statements. Evidently he was still feeling the effects of the weather. "Yes, food and wine would not go amiss at the moment, though I doubt I'll be able to reach the counter as... Nogrod? ... did. Oh, and my name is Alaric Took, and this is my wife, Kira."

Kira stepped forward and nodded her head at each of the other two guests--for some reason, outside of the Shire and Bree few had heard of the custom of hand-shaking. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Bethberry and Nogrod."

The door opened, and another lady entered the room, helped herself to a drink, and spoke. "We do not often see Periannath in Gondor, though perhaps more than in earlier times. What brings you here?"

Alaric was at the fireplace, reaching up to follow Estelyn's example, so it was left for Kira to speak. "What brings us here? There are many answers to that, and each one's longer to tell than the last. The shortest one, though, is that we're looking for the Thain's Book, the copy of the Histories that made its way to Gondor long ago, and we want to make a copy of it, since our original perished nearly twenty years ago and none of our own copies are complete. But for now, we're just looking for a place to stay for the night, out of this dratted weather."

Alaric pressed a cup of mulled wine into her hand and she sipped at it appreciatively. "That sounds about like the whole of it. Now, what's this about food in the kitchen? I, at least, am famished, and if there are some step-stools, I'd like to rectify that shortly."

[Nogrod]

Nogrod was just mulling at what Bêthberry had said when the two halflings made their entrance. He nodded to the halflings only to be caught up with yet another person coming in. After Estelyn had took her goblet of wine and given him some more food for thought he was forced to concentrate on the two hobbits again.

It was like they were two children with the hassle and buzz about them. It was dear memories time... Oh, the energy of the young..., he thought to himself while mulling about the comments Estelyn and Bethberry had made.

He raised his goblet towards the hobbits "To the health of all Periannath..."

After taking a short sip he glanced at the two: "I know nothing about any "Book of Tháin"... and I don't know anything about this place either as this is the frist time I'm here, but like Bêthberry said, I think you could fill your appetite from the kitchen, just leaving a coin or two to the counter when you leave?" He looked at the two women who seemed to be more at ease with the place and found them nodding.

With that he turned around to the two ladies. He toyed with the goblet for a moment before getting to it.

"Well, I thank you for your reasoned words, but to be frank, I'm actually not having that kind of a problem with myself... It's actually more like the contrary - if there can be a contrary to the middle-road?" He took a deep draught from the cup and then set it down to the table in front of him.

He smiled, but in a way one was not sure what it meant - maybe not even he himself. It seemed genuine though.

"I mean, I'm more than happy about it, I'm proud of it even if I can't claim to reap the laurels there... but something bangs in the back of my head saying I should mourn it. And I actually do feel like it every now and then."

He looked at the ladies, not sure if he had made his point understandable.

He frowned and leaned back on his chair.

[Envinyatar]

‘Whoa up, now, darlins! We’re here, I do believe.’ Rusco set the brake on the small wagon and wrapped the well oiled leather reins about the brake handle. He hopped down, the water puddled up on the stone path splashing up the sides of his boots. The rain soaked his hair and dripped steadily down the collar of his now soggy cape.

He came round to where Whitefoot and Twitch stood, stamping their hooves. ‘Should have worn my oilskins and hat, eh?’ The mules nodded their shaggy heads up and down as if to agree. ‘Won’t hear the end of it from Signy, will I?’ He chuckled, picturing his wife, hands on hips as she would greet him – a thick towel for his hair, a big warm blanket to wrap him round, tsking and shaking her head as she reminded him she’d told him so, hadn’t she just! ‘Be just a bit, boys,’ he told them. ‘It’s our last delivery.’ Reaching deep in an inner pocket of his cape, he fetched out two small apples. ‘Here you go!

Rusco went to the big oak door at the rear of the inn and rapped loudly. No one answered. He tried the handle and found that it not locked. ‘Well, then, I’ll just set the two barrels in the kitchen.’

The room was dark, save for the banked fire in the kitchen hearth. He set the barrels in a corner near the entryway to the common room. There was some small light showing under the door there and he thought he heard voices beyond. Nudging the door open slightly, he peeked his head through.

‘Anyone here,’ he called out. ‘It’s Rusco. I’ve brought the late winter’s ale I’d promised . . .’

[mark12_30]

Behind Rusco, the big oak door at the rear of the inn swung open, creaking. Mellonin frowned, a little; Morien the innkeeper had always insisted on well-greased, quiet hinges. But she spoke to Rusco cheerily and gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you! Perhaps when word gets out that your ale has arrived, we'll have a few more visitors! There is room for your pair in the stable, around the side. There are some rags hanging on the last stall door you can wipe them down with. Wash the rags when you are done and hang them back on the door as you found them. Your name?"

"Rusco, " he replied, and she nodded.

She bustled past, opened a cupboard, found a jar of oil, and went back to the oak door hinges, and dripped some oil on them til they were quiet, and then replaced the jar of oil. She motioned Rusco out to the stables, and showed him where to put his cart and harnesses. "The hay is free, but if you want grain for the mules, it comes at a price."

Rusco shook his head. "No fear, ma'am, Whitefoot and Twitch are easy keepers."

"You'll join us soon, then," she said. "Do come back into the common room. I saw the loremistress headed this way. Let me know if you need anything else." She hurried back into the inn, and went inside, and through into the common room. Her dark hair, half braided and half cut short, was growing out, and she shook away the wisps that covered her grey-green-blue eyes.

Morien the innkeeper was not there; apparently he had not come back from his journey to the southen vineyards yet. But there were Mistress Bethberry, Loremistress Estelyn, a man from the north, and-- my goodness!-- two halflings! She smiled with delight as she stepped into the rim of the firelight.

"Can I fetch anything?" she said with a curtesy, as Loremistress Estelyn met her gaze.

Estelyn raised an eyebrow. "You'll join us, " she said, "when you may, for there are some questions being raised that a young loremistress might want to hear."

"Oh-- oh, yes, Milady, " said Mellonin with another curtesy.

Estelyn waved her off. "Bethberry says there is food in the kitchen?"

"Stew and bread, Mellonin. Mind you the bowls are cold."

Mellonin swept into the kitchen and put six empty earthen bowls in the hearth to warm, and then as an afterthought fetched a seventh for the man with the pair of mules. Just in time; he came in through the back door, and eyed the bowls hopefully.

"Wash your hands, " she said, waving to the pump handle. He nodded, and did a fair job of it. "There is bread in the oven; put it on this plate; cloths over there, knife there. " She ladled hot soup from the hanging kettle into the rapidly warming bowls. Soon she had a tray of four bowls, and Rusco had the bread and the knife on the plate. She fetched seven spoons, and Rusco followed Mellonin through the door into the common room. She gave the stew to the shivering halflings first, then to the man from the north, and the fourth to the slightly startled Rusco. Then she returned with the three other bowls, served Bethberry and Estelyn, picked up her own spoon, and all seven set happily to their stew and bread.

[Mnemosyne]

"Thank you," Alaric said to Mellonin, after a few judicious mouthfuls of stew. Kira, on the other hand, ate at a more sedate pace, though from time to time she stole half-smiling glances at her husband.

"This is quite good," said Alaric, after a few minutes' silent eating on the part of the hobbits. "I only have to wonder..."

"Your pardon," said Kira. "But the farther we've gotten from home, the more finicky Alaric's been, and by 'finicky' I mean 'still willing to eat whatever's put in front of him while articulating how it could have been better.'"

"Really, it is fine," said Alaric. "It just comes of missing a kitchen of one's own."

"Yes, because clearly you were cooking all the time at Great Smials..."

Alaric cleared his throat. "That's neither here nor there. What I mean to say, Miss, is thank you." He scraped the bottom of the bowl with the last bit of his bread. "Might there... might there happen to be any seconds? I don't mean to trouble you," he added quickly. "In fact, before we settle in here any further, I, at least, would like to change into some drier clothes." They had set their packs, which fortunately looked more watertight than their cloaks, on the floor out of the way of the fire. "And a room really would be helpful, since we'd like to stay here for the night."

[mark12_30]

Mellonin smiled at Alaric, and then giggled, and then composed herself again, as Estelyn hid a smile.

"Which would youl ike first? The stew or the room? The stew will still be hot when you have changed, and you might enjoy it more."

Alaric liked that idea. "The room, please."

"I'll show you the room. Your bowls of stew will be ready when you come back down." Mellonin set aside her half-finished bowl (on the hearth, to keep it warm), snatched up a lit candle, and led Alaric and Kira out of the common room. She paused at the stairs. Beyond the thumping of Kira's crutch, these were halflings, and she vaguely recalled a dislike of heights. "Would you prefer a ground-floor room?"

Alaric bowed slightly, and Mellonin turned. She led them down a hallway, opened a door, and handed Alaric the candle. "You'd like firewood?"

"Please."

Mellonin hurried back down the hall, fetched a canvas, put moss, a handful of leaves, kindling and firewood in it, and took it back to the room. They had hastily changed, and their wet things were on the hearth. She helped them prepare the fire, and they were lighting it with the candle as she hastened back to the common room. Nogrod and Rusco had finished their stew as well. She hesitated, and then wrapped a cloth around the haldle of the kettle, and brought the whole kettle out into the common room, and hung it in the fireplace there. Returning with the ladle, she served Rusco and Nogrod, refilled the halflings' bowls leaving them in the hearth to warm, and then settled happily back to her own stew.

She turned to Nogrod, between spoonfuls. "What brings you to the Seventh Star?"

[Nogrod]

Nogrod took a draught of Rusco's winter ale and felt the full taste in his mouth. It was good; the ale, and how he felt right now.

"Hah, it's a long story..." he replied to Mellonin while turning his gaze on her. "But cutting it short, let's say that when you are a child you wonder about the world as it is brand new and amazing to you every day, full of new things, things to learn and experience. When you're a teenager you feel like you own the world, you know how it is and how it should be - even if you don't know what you yourself are. Then you get children and you care for the world, you carry the burden of it for your children and the coming generations... but then, after your children fly out? Well then you become a child again and wonder about the world once more with the difference that you have slowly learned something about yourself..."

Nogrod was toying with his pint. "Although I'm not sure about that last one... maybe it is not that we have "learnt" things about ourselves as things that have already been, maybe we're just becoming someone through age and experience?"

He laid the pint on to the table next to the chair and took a spoonful of the hot stew, carefully blowing it to make it cooler. "So I'm kind of looking for things to surpise me..." he said smiling and then took the spoonful of hot stew, nodding with the taste of it. "This is good..."