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Old 06-22-2005, 04:44 PM   #2041
Esgallhugwen
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White Tree Esgallhugwen

"Yes, he is mine you could say. I rescued him from the Hills of Evendim, and so he has bonded to me", Eswen half smiled as she called down to the Hobbit lass, her voice lyrical and soft on the chill breeze. Such an innocent little being, like all of her kin, only guilty in taking their delight in food and drink.

"And I suppose being close to an Elf has made him grow past a normal size for his age, I have no doubts you've heard of our so called magic which is quite absurd really, perhaps that has helped him". Nimrómen sat on his haunches next to the lass swishing his plush tail to and fro.

"Does he know any tricks?"

Esgallhugwen laughed softly, "none which he cares to learn, he is from the wild, bothering little with the ways of domestication, he is quite the slob when it comes to eating", the wolf cocked his head to the side and barked in protest.

"now, now don't lie to the young lass, maybe if you would eat slower more food would be in your stomach instead of on the floor" she shook her finger playfully tsking him.

"We havn't even been properly introduced, what is your name young Hobbit lass?"
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Old 06-22-2005, 04:45 PM   #2042
Larien Telemnar
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Larien sat quietly and listened to the Bard's song. She found herself transported by the very utterances of the song. She closed her eyes and tilted her head toward the ceiling, her hood falling off in the process. When the song ended, she slowly returned to reality to find that Hearpwine had seated himself once more and was looking at her expectantly.

She blushed, ashamed at having been caught in her reverie. She cleared her throat slightly and sat upright, self consciously rubbing the hem of her cloak in her fingers.

'That was beautiful, Lord Hearpwine. I hope you will grace us with another song before the evening ends.' She smiled and looked down at her hands. 'I suppose you wish to hear my story, as well as the story of the song?' She turned to Ginger. 'You've already heard it, I believe. The child in the song was so young, she should not have remembered that fateful night, but she did. The man who found the babe was an Elf of Imladris, Lord Elrond, to be exact. The child he named Larien, who grew up as his adopted daughter, sometimes living in Imladris, sometimes in Lorien. She now sits before you.' Larien closed her eyes breifly, remember sadly that night of her parents death.

'So you see, Lord Hearpwine, this is how I know of such things. I came to the Shire to discover how my kinspeople live. I have but the dimmest hope that I might discover the names of my birth parents, and perhaps the name given me as a babe.' She opened her eyes and smiled. 'It is how I had hoped. I am welcome here, for which I am thankfull.'
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Old 06-23-2005, 02:51 AM   #2043
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Astilwen laughed at the interaction between the Elf and her wolf cub. It reminded her a little of her youngest brother, whose food rarely even got as far as his mouth most days.

"We havn't even been properly introduced, what is your name young Hobbit lass?" asked the Elf.

"My name is Astilwen. It's a bit of a mouthful for a Hobbit I know but that's what you get when you have parents who are friends with Mayor Gamgee and his companions, they liked the foreign sounding names from the tales you see. What is your name?"
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Old 06-24-2005, 01:20 AM   #2044
Arry
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‘Uncle Gil! Look what we’ve got!’

Woody and Hanson came running toward Gil as he and his companions were talking about the next tune to play. Gil was leaning toward just a jig or reel. His throat was dry and a bit raspy, and he wanted to rest it for a bit.

The band’s eyes all turned to Gil’s two nephews as they came tinkling up merrily to the little stage. Words came tumbling from the boy’s lips helter-skelter. An Elf nearly taken off and eaten; a dragon in the dark beneath the table; magic bells; the open window; the escape and the rescue. A few moments of gentle redirection and questioning and the whole story came through in a more sensible way. That is, as sensible as a dragon in the Inn could get.

Behind Hanson and Woody stood Emlin, his face drawn into a serious pose, eyes twinkling. He was nodding his head at the story the two lads told. ‘Saved me, they did,’ he declared, putting hand to heart in a dramatic gesture.

And behind him stood Rowan, a tin whistle held lightly in her hand, her brown eyes gleaming merrily.
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Old 06-24-2005, 02:19 AM   #2045
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‘I’ve brought my little pipe,’ Rowan said. ‘And Tolly’s brought his drum. We thought perhaps the brave young lads could join in with their bells.’ She laughed merrily as she lifted her pipe to her lips.

‘Something for the ladies, this time,’ Tolly went on. ‘A little jig, we thought, to set them dancing.

Rowan turned to the room and swept the crowd with her eyes. ‘Push back the tables a bit, won’t you now. We’ve a jig to set your toes tapping. Cherish the Ladies, it is. Come ladies! Choose your partners for the dance.’ She blew a note on her whistle, to let the others know the key she’d play in. She started first and the others joined in the sprightly melody.

When the last note was played the dancers crowded about the little stage and called for another. Emlin joined the others on stage and took out his own whistle, nearly a twin to Rowan's but pitched a little higher, like the song of a wee bird.

Rowan played the opening bars with the others, then held her whistle in her hand as she harmonized with her brother on another danceable tune.

♪ --- ♫ --- ♪

Oh, the days of the Shire dancing
Oh, the ring of the piper's tune
Oh, for one of those hours of gladness
Gone, alas, like our youth, too soon!


When the boys began to gather
In the glen of a summer's night
And the Shire piper's tuning
Made us long with wild delight!
Oh, to think of it
Oh, to dream of it
Fills my heart with tears!

Oh, the days of the Shire dancing
Oh, the ring of the piper's tune
Oh, for one of those hours of gladness
Gone, alas, like our youth, too soon!


Was there ever a sweeter lass
In the dance than Blossom Appledore
Or a prouder lad than Minto
As he boldly took the floor.

Lads and lasses to your places
Up the middle and down again
Ah, the merry hearted laughter
Ringing through the happy glen!
Oh, to think of it
Oh, to dream of it
Fills my heart with tears!

Oh, the days of the Shire dancing
Oh, the ring of the piper's tune
Oh, for one of those hours of gladness
Gone, alas, like our youth, too soon!


Time goes on, and the happy years are dead
And one by one the merry hearts are fled
Silent now is the wild and lonely glen
Where the bright glad laugh will echo ne'er again
Only dreaming of days gone by in my heart I hear.

Loving voices of old companions
Stealing out of the past once more
And the sound of the dear old music
Soft and sweet as in days of yore.

When the boys began to gather
In the glen of a summer's night
And the Shire piper's tuning
Made us long with wild delight!
Oh, to think of it
Oh, to dream of it
Fills my heart with tears!

Oh, the days of the Shire dancing
Oh, the ring of the piper's tune
Oh, for one of those hours of gladness
Gone, alas, like our youth, too soon!


♪ --- ♫ --- ♪

They played the chorus twice at the end. The dancers stopped as the repeat began and sang the words along with the band.
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Old 06-24-2005, 02:47 AM   #2046
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Look how they move together, and apart. Each following the other’s steps.

Lithmîrë set his mug on the table. He leaned forward a little, pressing against the edge of the table as he watched the dancers and the musicians. Sometimes, in his travels, he had heard the notes of some distant piper through the trees. But he never thought to pause and listen to the whole of the tune; instead, he’d scurried away to put further distance between himself and the chance meeting with another. And dancing . . . he could not recall it; though, he knew that in his early days there must have been music and dancing.

Some unclear song hovered on the edges of his memory . . . but no images came to flesh it out.

He looked closely at the odd assortment of players. Halfling, Elf, Man. None seemed bent on being one up on the other. Sometimes one led, sometimes another. There was a certain grace to the way they bowed to one another, inviting each to take a turn. They were as much dancers with their instruments as were those who moved about on the floor in front of their little stage.

It was comforting, this music and movements that they made. He found it put him at ease, in a way. Mistress Bunce was enjoying it, he thought. Her foot was tapping lightly on the floor to the rhythms and she had a smile on her face as she watched the dancers.

‘You don’t have to stay here with me,’ he said in a low voice to her. ‘I’ll be happy to mind the teapot and the plate of tarts . . . if you want to dance, that is.’
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Old 06-24-2005, 10:34 AM   #2047
Esgallhugwen
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White Tree Esgallhugwen

"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 smiled down upon the young Hobbit Astilwen.

"Your name holds much beauty in it, Astilwen of the Shire, you are lucky to have parents with such cultured friends, many names of the Elves can suit the mirth of your kin, but many others like my own would have your poor tongues stumbling for days"

She laughed, not at Astilwen, but at her own foolishness, she cared to forget the hurtful things of her own life, but as soon as she left the Shire she would have to come back to reality. She looked for Uien and Falowik, they lay under the Hawthorn still.

Esgallhugwen wondered if she had awoken Falowik with her rioutous laughter. however fluid and lyrical it may have been. And all the while she had heard the singing from within, both happy and sad.
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Old 06-24-2005, 01:41 PM   #2048
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Gilthalion

A horse and rider enter the yard. The horse's dark coat and the dark raiment of it's rider blend into the night. The rider slipped soundlessly from his mount and approached the grey horse standing there. To some the figure might have brought back evil memories of some years ago when the Black Riders had come searching for Baggins but this was no evil servant.

"Well met at last, Aeglos my friend, where is your mistress?" . The voice marked the horseman as one of the eldar. And he did not need an answer for he saw what he sought through the tavern's window. An elf maid in the corner hunched over some papers lit by a guttering candle. He smiled a brief smile and made for the door.

Mithalwen had nearly finished her missives - to Camille, Marigold, and even the hardest one to Uien and was debating whether to leave a note for Snaveling when she felt again the strange sensation that she had been ignoring all day. She had assumed it was merely an awareness that some of her kindred were travelling through the Shire - certainly there were several even here at the inn - and she had had no clear impression that one was trying to reach her mind. But she also knew she had closed her mind when she had caught the edge of Uien's private storm. So again she ignored it and concentrated on her script " I will be at Wood Hall soon enough" she thought. She had a clear hand and for the child recipients she had decorated her letters with drawings of flowers and animals. She had nearly finished a very lifelike sketch of Aeglos on the corner of Marigold's letter when a familiar voice spoke quietly at her shoulder: "How much longer will you let that poor beast wait while you draw his picture?" .

She could not mistake the voice but neither could she believe she was hearing it in waking life, "Gilthalion! What are you doing here? "

"Looking for you". He sat down opposite her and cast back his hood. Although his hair was raven and hers silver their features mirrored each other; they had the same aquiline nose and high cheekbones, though the maid's were finer drawn than the man's, and the same grey eyes stared at each other, one set with amazement the other with amusement.

"But you don't travel - surely the last time you left Imladris was Third Age 1975?" Mithalwen teased.. Gilthalion narrowed his eyes - it had taken about a minute for the childhood pattern of sibling behaviour to reestablish itself despite their childhood being an age of the world away.

"I do not travel often by choice that is true - but it is not so long... I went to Minas Tirith for the wedding of the Lady Arwen - and you do not seem to pleased to see your brother". He watched her carefully - even after so long the word Gondor had the same effect on her as Mordor had on him. She elided the reference but he knew something had closed up inside her at the mention.

"Of course - I am delighted - I was coming to see you, but to meet you here is so strange... there is much to explain it seems" she answered.

"Indeed but first a drink - and food if they are serving still... have you eaten?"

Mithalwen shook her head ruefully " I spent all my money trying to help people.."

" Oh Mithalwen - you too have explanations - but first we will eat and I will pay". Gilthalion rose and went to the kitchen to see if there was anything left but before he did so, his sister rose and embraced him. For although these twain had their differences and been even sundered for a time, Gilthalion and his family were the only close kin Mithalwen had in Middle Earth and the bond between them was strong.
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Old 06-24-2005, 08:21 PM   #2049
Tevildo
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Tevildo

Slinking out of the Common Room, Tevildo traced his path to the stairwell that led to the upstairs bedrooms. Daintily, he mounted the steps one by one, hiding in the shadows so that few paid him any heed. Once or twice, he directly encountered guests walking downstairs intent on joining the evening's festivities. The cat skillfully eluded the eager, extended hands of two children who came chasing after him, turning around to hiss at them, and then bounding up the the remaining steps two at a time. Finally, Tevildo came to the first landing and ran down the hall to its very end where there was a closed and locked door, only large enough for a hobbit to go through without bending over. Seemingly, the steps disappeared.

The Green Dragon Inn was the only building in Hobbiton or Bywater that could boast three floors and an attic. Although a number of hobbits now built their dwellings above ground, it was still uncommon for any structure to have stairs or an upper floor. On the rare occasions when a farmer wanted extra sleeping quarters for kin, he might build a straw loft and prop up a ladder for the children to scamper to bed. The Dragon, however, was different. It stood proud and tall, three stories high, situated on a hillside that commanded a sweeping view of the surrounding landscape. There had been times in the past when Innkeepers Piosenniel and Aman had made their way up to the very top floor and crawled into the attic just so they could get a fine view of things and a little breathing space of their own.

Tevildo knew none of these things as he ran down the hall and stood outside the small door putting up a terrible ruckus. He was frankly going on instinct. He wanted to look again at that fine carved table, which had been set outside at the wedding, and had somehow disappeared. A small voice inside his head whispered that the two-leggeds, being somewhat dense and not recognizing the value of the table, had stupidly moved the piece of furniture up the steps to store in the attic. Tevildo was intent on finding it again.

The top floor of the Inn was presently shut down. The number of guests staying on the lower floors did not warrant opening up extra rooms. When the Faire came later in the month that situation would change, and all the chambers would be filled to overflowing. For the moment, however, the only residents on the top floor were two serving hobbits who often forgot to lock their doors behind them. Tevildo heard light footsteps approaching, coming down the steps behind the locked door. The minute the door opened, he skittering underneath the young hobbit's legs as she deftly made her way into the hallway, anxious to run downstairs to help in the kitchen as she was supposed to do. The young lass did not even notice the small cat that slipped through the door unnoticed and bounded up the narrow steps.
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Old 06-25-2005, 06:20 PM   #2050
piosenniel
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‘Land sakes! Why thank you for excusing me. My feet are twitching to be up and dancing.’ Cook rose from her chair and giving a quick nod of her head and a smile to Lithmire, she hurried off to the little dance area that had been cleared in front of the small stage. For a moment, she almost turned back to ask him if he’d care to join her. Nay! Let him be, Vinca Bunce. He’s comfortable there as guardian of the teacups. Don’t prod him; he’ll bolt.

Reaching the dance floor, she lifted her skirts a bit and stepped lively to the jig the band was playing. Her knees flashed in the lamplight at times as she high-stepped. And a number of travelers from beyond Hobbiton, merchant men come to trade, looked on in approval. She did not encourage them, though she enjoyed the attention. It made her feel quite young and spry.

One poor fellow thought he might sidle in close to her, to join in. But she raised her brows and gave him a withering look. His fantasies deflated, he sat meekly back down and buried his embarrassment in a mug of ale.
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Old 06-25-2005, 07:16 PM   #2051
Huan
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‘Now who is that?’ asked Rowan, leaning in close to Gil as Cook kicked up her heels. His explanation was short and spoken with a sense of affection. ‘Why that’s Cook,’ he told her, as if the one word should be more than enough explanation.

‘Interesting!’ thought Rowan to herself. ‘I think I will have to make sure to meet her.’

Tolly came up to her, from where he’d been talking to the other musicians. ‘I think we’ve worked out the tune. It’s a new one to Gil’s fellows.’ He nodded at Gil. ‘But the tune’s simple enough, and if we play it once through, I think you’ll have it. The sung versus are without accompaniment, and there are just short, quick bars of the chorus tune done between.’

He and Gil stepped back to where Gil’s companions were standing and did a soft run through. Then they turned back to the crowd in the room and did a longer version of the verse and chorus without the singing.

It was Rowan who stepped to the front of the stage, with Emlin singing a bass harmony. Her voice rang out clear and strong in the crowded room.


When I first came to town,
They called me the roving jewel;
Now they've changed their tune,
They call me Katy Cruel,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be,
Go where I would, I can not,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

When I first came to town,
They brought me the bottles plenty;
Now they've changed their tune,
They bring me the bottles empty,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be,
Go where I would, I can not,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

I know who I love,
And I know who does love me;
I know where I'm going,
And I know whose going with me,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be,
Go where I would, I can not,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Through the woods I go,
And through the bogs and mire,
Straightway down the road,
And to my heart's desire,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be,
Go where I would, I can not,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Eyes as bright as coal,
Lips as bright as cherry,
and 'tis her delight
To make the young girls merry,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be,
Go where I would, I can not,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.

When I first came to town
They called me the roving jewel
Now they've changed their tune
They call me Katy Cruel
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.


For the very last chorus all joined in. Their voices swelled strongly about the room, overpowering the the small clusters of conversation, then stopped abruptly leaving silence.

Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be,
Go where I would, I can not,
Oh, diddle, lully day,
Oh, de little lioday.


Rowan, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed from singing, smiled impishly at those in the room and took a small bow.
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Old 06-26-2005, 01:41 PM   #2052
Mithalwen
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Gilthalion

The elf paid little heed to the music as he made his way deftly through the crowded common room focused in his task and his mind full of his own thoughts - long years of working metal, had made him broader and more strongly built than usual for an elf but still he moved with the easy grace of his people and most of those he passed did not notice him. He noticed one of them though. An elf sitting in the shadows near the kitchen door.

The elf was horribly maimed but it was the expression in his eyes that struck a chord in Gilthalion's mind. For though it was too evident that the other's suffering had been greater, Gilthalion in his own lesser way had felt the horror of Mordor. He had gone to war with his father and brother but had returned alone, burdened with anger, bitterness and guilt. Unable to cope he had withdrawn from the family that had remained to him, finding peace only in the hard physical labour of the forge. It was Amilya who had saved him, whose light had been strong enough to cast out the shadows from his soul if not his memory. A light passed into his eyes as he thought of his beloved wife distant for a while in body but ever close in spirit. So when his gaze met Lithmire's briefly it was filled not with pity but recognition. He knew better than to intrude unasked but acknowledged the other with a brief but solemn nod and passed on to ask at the kitchen as fine a meal as could be mustered from what remained.
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Old 06-27-2005, 07:59 AM   #2053
Fordim Hedgethistle
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Hearpwine’s eyes opened in wonderment at Larien’s tale. There were stories a-plenty of foundlings taken in by Elves, but he had never thought to meet with one such mortal in the flesh. And a Halfling at that! He had seen a great many wondrous peoples in his days, but this was certainly a rarity.

Standing, he bowed low. “Anyone who has had their rearing in Imladris bears with them the nobility of that land. I myself laid eyes upon the Lord Elrond but once before he left these shores, but I have many times gazed with love upon the beauty of Queen Arwen. In your own voice I hear the echoes of the piny woods that she often speaks of.” Sitting once more he began to speak of the Shire, about which – apparently – he knew more than this strange Hobbit. “I am myself but newly arrived to this realm, but my King has spoken of it often. The bonds of friendship between the Lord Eomer and Meriadoc Brandybuck are deep and abiding. Indeed, it is for the sake of that friendship that I am here, for King Eomer has sent me into this land to learn its songs so that I might amuse the lords of Rohan with them after the day’s work is done.”

Ginger smiled at Hearpwine quite prettily asking if he had learned any songs of the Shire yet. Hearpwine’s smile grew even wider and his voice boomed out happily. “All those that have been sung this night are engraved upon my heart, and there is another, truly unique song, that has this day been composed by the children of the Shire, which I will bring forth soon…but it requires still some meditation.”

“Do they sing the songs of the Shire away in the South, then?” Larien inquired.

“That we do, but only those few which were taught to us by the Great Hearts of the Shire at the end of the War. They are not much like the songs of the Rohirrim, but they are lovely nonetheless:

“The violet and the primrose too
Beneath a sheltering thorny bough
In bright and lively colours blow
And cast sweet fragrance round.
Where beds of thyme in clusters lay
The heath rose opens its eyes in May
And cowslips, too, their sweets display
Upon the heathy ground.

“Here shepherds meet at close of day
To chant their merry roundelay
And chase unhappy thought away
No discord here is found.
Harmonious notes make mountains ring
When minstrels strike the trembling string
And merry shepherds dance and sing
Upon the heathy ground.”

He sang unaccompanied by his harp, but the bard’s rich voice was a strong baritone and it did the simple tune ample justice. It was a familiar song to many there and some of the Halflings who heard it looked up in surprise that it was being sung – so loudly – by this tall Man. At its conclusion, the bard threw back his head and laughed infectiously. “It has always been a great favourite of mine! It was first brought to the Golden Hall by Peregrin Took, son of Paladin, when he sang it at the coronation of King Eomer!”

“You seem to know much of the Shire, Lord Hearpwine,” Larien said.

“Nay nay, call me not ‘Lord’! I am the son of a small house in the far west of Rohan, and heir to little more than a small green valley, which – beautiful as it may be – houses only a few dozen farmsteads. Whatever glory I may claim comes from my role as Bard to the King. If you must use a title, use that – but I would be much happier if you were simply to call me your new friend, Hearpwine!”
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Old 06-27-2005, 10:29 AM   #2054
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Avoiding the eyes of others brim entered the inn. She did not want to bother anyone with her blind eyes. The journey had been long and tough from Eryn Lasgalen she had come in hope of finding someone to train her better in the art of seeing without eyes. Her blonde hair cropped to about her waist flowing behind her. She lightly traced her feet as she walked. She attempted futilely to brush mud from her white robes. She cursed her choice as she took a seat in a darker corner of the inn.

Brim unfolded a miniature book with strange bumps for letters her mother had gotten her from her robes and began to read it. Her grey eyes like deep pools of silver flicking up ever so often as if watching all that was going on before her.
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Old 06-27-2005, 06:37 PM   #2055
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Larien listened, fascinated with the Bard's voice. It was as if Ulmo himself had blessed this man with the sound of the sea, the words flowing over his tongue and gracing the ears of all who would hear.

She blushed as he complimented her on her voice, once again rubbing the hem of her cloak. When he sang his song, one the Shire-folk knew well, she found herself smiling and humming the tune.

She was taken aback when he told her not to call him 'Lord', but rather 'friend'.

'I would be honored to call you friend, Hearpwine.' Standing, she curtseyed. As she drew herself up again, she noticed another enter the tavern.

The other seemed to float, as if carried by the very air she breathed. Her flowing blonde hair streamed around her as she gracefully strod to the back of the room. Larien noticed her try to brush some mud from her robes as she sat down. After a moment, she brought out a small book.

Larien knew it would not be polite to interupt the lady, as she seemed to want her privacy, yet she couldn't help herself. This other lady reminded Larien of her Grandmother Galadriel, who had traveled across the sea. She missed her so much, and wished to meet this golden lady. She smiled at Hearpwine, excused herself for a moment, and slowly made her way to where the other sat. She stood there a moment, then cleared her throat.

'Excuse me, M'Lady, but I could not help but notice when you walked in. I am Larien, may I sit with you. For a while, anyway.'

Larien you fool. What could such a small and insignificant one such as yourself offer one so truely graceful and stately as her? Mentally, she sighed to herself. Long have I wished to be a true Elf. Now I wish to be truely a Hobbit, yet I belong in neither world. Why am I hear, bothering this lady?

Without knowing it, she started to back away, hoping, by some chance, the lady had not heard her.
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Old 06-29-2005, 02:29 AM   #2056
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Cook took a few more turns round the floor, then as the song ended she walked back over to the table where Lithmire sat and plopped herself down in a chair. ‘Goodness, that was fun!’

She noticed he was looking a little uncomfortable and asked if perhaps he would like to go back to the kitchen. She was going to set out the supplies for making bread for the next morning.

‘I hate to be a wet blanket on our pleasant evening,’ she said to him. ‘But I have to get up quite early, and so must be off to bed.’
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Old 06-29-2005, 02:55 AM   #2057
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‘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?’
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Old 06-29-2005, 03:14 AM   #2058
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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.
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Old 06-29-2005, 03:50 AM   #2059
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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.
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Old 06-29-2005, 09:27 AM   #2060
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“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.
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Old 06-30-2005, 03:19 AM   #2061
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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.
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Old 06-30-2005, 09:35 AM   #2062
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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 ...... " .

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Old 06-30-2005, 03:23 PM   #2063
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"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.
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Old 06-30-2005, 03:57 PM   #2064
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The two children reached the fireside and Tim sat Wren gently down on a chair by the corner of the hearth, near the bright, leaping flame. He took his place beside her and lifted his legs to clasp his arms about his knees and take in the scene about him and actually get his bearings.

His eyes scanned the dark, fire and lamp lit room, noticed a newcomer enter, and a couple half hidden figures in remote corners of the place, and then his eyes fell on a small hobbit lad walking towards them. He moved his head and looked directly at the little fellow, who was also looking straight at him and his sister with dark, bright eyes.

“Hello!” the lad said, stopping before them and addressing them both with his greeting and a huge smile. “My name is Hanson. Hanson Boffin. What’s yours?” And then, without bothering for an invitation, he took advantage of an empty seat beside Tim, and made himself comfortable while waiting for their answer.

Tim couldn’t help but smile at the warm, unabashed welcome.

“I’m Tim Woodlock, and this is my little sister, Wren.” He motioned towards and turned to look at her. She was sitting stiffly in her chair with a look that made it appear that she was puzzled, but also with another that Tim knew well and that meant she was uncomfortable. “She’s really shy,” he added turning back to Hanson. “I guess you are here with somebody?”
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Old 07-03-2005, 02:33 AM   #2065
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‘He’s here with me and our Uncle Gil,’ said Woody, coming up beside Hanson and laying his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Woody pointed over to where Gil and his band were sitting with the troupe of traveling players. Someone had just told a joke at the table and all were laughing.

‘This is Tim,’ offered Hanson, shrugging off his brother’s hand. ‘And that’s his sister, Wren.’

The sound of music starting up came from the large table, and Hanson glanced over to see what was happening. Gil had picked up his concertina from beneath his chair and was letting the air stream into its bellows, playing a few soft notes as he did so.

‘What about this one?’ they heard him say, as he struck up a tune and began to sing.

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
And neither have I wings to fly.
O go and get me some little boat,
To carry o'er my true love and I.

A-down in the meadows the other day
A-gath'ring flow'rs both fine and gay
A-gath'ring flowers, both red and blue,
I little thought what love could do.


‘Ah we know that one,’ laughed Rowan, setting her pipe to her lips and nodding at the Elf, Emlin, to go ahead and sing.

I put my hand into one soft bush,
Thinking the sweetest flow'r to find.
I prick'd my finger to the bone
And left the sweetest flow'r alone.

I lean'd my back up against some oak,
Thinking it was a trusty tree.
But first she bended then she broke,
So did my love prove false to me.


Rowan sang, then, her clear, sweet voice sailing above the small crowd sitting near them.

Where love is planted, O there it grows,
It buds and blossoms like some rose;
It has a sweet and pleasant smell,
No flow'r on earth can it excel.

Must I be bound, O and he go free!
Must I love one thing that does not love me!
Why should I act such a childish part,
And love a lad that will break my heart.


Gil and Emlin finished the song, their voices twining in harmony.

There is a ship sailing on the sea,
She's loaded deep as deep can be,
But not so deep as in love I am;
I care not if I sink or swim.

O love is handsome and love is fine,
And love is charming when it is true;
As it grows older it groweth colder
And fades away like the morning dew.


There was a scattering of applause when the song was finished and the group at the table fell back to talking and to laughter.

‘Another love song!’ snorted Hanson, giving his little five year old opinion on the choice of subjects. ‘Say, I’m kind of hungry. Are you?’ He hopped down from his chair, and motioned for the other three to follow him. ‘I’ll bet Buttercup will give us a little basket of sandwiches and cookies if we ask her nice. Would you like to see the kittens that got born a few days ago? They’re in the barn, in a nice little hay nest.’ He smiled hopefully at Woody, Tim, and Wren. ‘We could eat out there and pet the kittens. I’ll show you the grey one with the pink nose that I like.’
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Old 07-05-2005, 07:41 AM   #2066
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Fairleaf watched as the Elf left the Inn and walked across the dirt yard toward the stable. She thought he might go in, that perhaps he was sleeping in the loft. But he passed on by the double doors and was lost in the darkness on the far side of the building.

She longed to see where he was going. The man near her feet was asleep. The Elf’s attention was engaged elsewhere. Drawing her rooty toes up from the soft ground, Fairleaf inched back ward, away from the Elf and Man. Into the dark shadows of a small coppice of trees near the stable.

Moving carefully, she brushed her limbs and leaves along those of the trees and shrubs, greeting them as she passed.
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Old 07-05-2005, 10:35 PM   #2067
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Tolkien Alcarillo

A new figure stepped into the Green Dragon, a tall, fair elf, wrapped in a deep grey hooded cloak. He was not quite as tall as other elves, but was tall nonetheless. His name was Alcarillo Nession, and he had ridden for many miles from Harlindon.

He had come to see the world, and had passed this way to see the land of the Halflings. After giving his chestnut horse to a stable-hand, he stepped into the warm glow of the inn. There were a surprising amount of elves, he thought. There was one reading a book, and another sitting at the bar. As Alcarillo stepped forward he hoped he didn't stand out too much. He was wearing armor underneath his cloak, and he hoped that the chain-mail would silence. But eyes were elsewhere as far as he could tell; towards a group of musicians who had stolen most chairs, and there were some children standing near the fireplace, which turned the walls a lovely creamy color.

Alcarillo sat in a corner at a table to himself, eyeing the other occupants of the inn, especially the elves. Perhaps there were more elves traveling the roads in these safer times? Whatever the reasons everybody was here, he settled down, took a small, red, leather-bound book from his cloak and began to read a tale from his childhood, one of the tales he heard from his mother about Numenor and that he had written down in his old notebook, and he began muse about where to travel to in the morning.
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Old 07-06-2005, 12:59 AM   #2068
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Having spent many days pondering and thinking and not really interacting with anyone at all in the inn Anna looked up to the door to find new patrons had flooded in. She sat in her corner watching these newcomers with interest as she drank her mead.

Munching on the good Halfling cooking that she had placed before her she watched the people stream through the early evening. Sometimes she almost forgot that she wasn't one of them but an elf wondering the land.

Anna sighed thinking on past events, her father, her mother, and basically everything that lead her being here, was it fate? She shook her head.

Taking a pull at her sweet honey mead she stared off into space. Wishing for this wonderful moment in the world of the Halflings to never end.
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Old 07-06-2005, 07:04 AM   #2069
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Silmaril

As the tune finished to the sound of applause, Aman gave her hands to the clapping also, then continued her rounds about the Common Room, whistling the remainder of the tune jauntily to herself. The night had put her in high spirits, the same as the rest of the Inn's denizens, for it had been surprisingly succesful: usually when such crowds gathered in the Inn for such a night of songs and when the ale flowed quite so freely, a sharp eye was required of Aman and her staff for any trouble or rowdiness. But tonight, nothing of the like had raised its head, and although the wind had picked up outside, blowing a chill breeze through the Common Room door whenever it opened, inside there was no sign of any such chill atmosphere inside the Green Dragon.

The door opened and as Aman chanced to look up she saw two newcomers scurry in looking windswept and rather harried. The boy, evidently the older of the two, hustled a younger girl along in front of him, and although he looked calm enough, his tight lips and anxious, flitting eyes told Aman that this lad was anything from calm. Hungry eyes as well… Aman narrowed her own eyes, looking around at those who may have been eligible relations for these two newcomers, but all the Big Folk, it seemed, had already been here for some time and many were already known by Aman. And small though the children were, they were certainly no hobbits. The Innkeeper raised an eyebrow and made a note to herself to keep an eye on that pair – the night was drawing on already, and the dark was no place for children.

Heading towards them, she accidentally nudged the elbow of a customer seated nearby. The woman gave a stifled, surprised cry and Aman turned quickly, surprised at such a reaction – after all, all she had done was jolt the woman’s arm a little. But apparently the woman had been so deep in her book that she had not noticed the Innkeeper’s approach – she much have been more startled than Aman had bargained for. Yet now that her book had fallen to the floor, the woman did not move to get it, and when the Innkeeper turned towards her, she remained unmoving, her eyes fixed pointedly on the wall, a sheet of long golden hair covering her face. Murmuring effusive apologies, the Innkeeper set down the glasses she had been carrying on a nearby table and knelt down to retrieve the book. But as she picked it up, she noticed something odd: the cover was entirely blank, totally unmarked apart from a few dusty smears now across the cover. Hastily brushing these away, Aman glanced up at the book’s owner to see that her face was still turned away and, curious, she turned the book over, frowning when she saw that the back was also unmarked. But on the spine…Aman’s frown deepened as she looked closer at the book’s spine, for dotted onto it, apparently randomly, were a series of dots and indents, a neat yet indecipherable code. But although she did not understand it, it was a code that was vaguely familiar to Aman, from a customer many months ago who had also had a series of books that bore these indentures…

She felt a hand brush her shoulder and turned as she woman drew away: she had not realised Aman was still there and so had bent to get her book. Apparently embarrassed, the woman looked away again, but this time Aman saw her face more clearly and her suspicion sparked by the unmarked book was confirmed by her pale, silvery eyes: the woman was blind. Straightening up, Aman wiped the book once more with her sleeve and then handed it back to the woman. “I do apologise, ma’am, I didn’t…sorry, I was a little distracted,” Aman amended her sentence just in time. She added, “You are new to this Inn, are you not? Can I get you anything?”
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Old 07-06-2005, 10:17 AM   #2070
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In reply to Hanson's offer of seeing the kittens

Tim and Wren’s eyes left Gil and the group of musicians half reluctantly and they looked back at Hanson. Wren’s eyes lit up at the mention of the kittens in the barn and she immediately cast a hopeful glance towards Tim. Her brother smiled gently at her and answered Hanson for her.

“Wren would very much like to see the kittens. She loves baby animals.”

A slightly troubled shadow crossed his face as he made his reply, however, and he made no mention of the food Hanson had spoken of. He had no money to pay for anything, and perhaps it was his pride that kept him from saying so. He stood up and pushed the thought from his mind as his face became clear again. He was eye to eye with the older hobbit that had just come up and he stuck out his hand in greeting.

“Tim Woodlock,” he said. “You are Hanson’s older brother, I assume, but I don’t know your name.”

“I’m Woody,” he answered, shaking hands. “Nice to meet you.”

“Your uncle is very good,” Tim went on, glancing past Woody to the musicians. “I liked that song, though it was kind of sad.” Wren got up and stepped to his side, giving him a look of silent appeal to go out and visit the kittens. “Lead is out to your kittens, Hanson,” Tim said, turning again to the younger hobbit, “in their nice nest of hay. Wren's impatient to see them.”
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Old 07-06-2005, 02:25 PM   #2071
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Larien had crept to the side of the room when another song started. After the singers were finishes, she headed back to her table with Ginger and Hearpwine.

She smiled vaguely as she sat down, sneaking a glance in the direction of the newcomer she had tried to welcome.

'So, Hearpwine, has your stay in the Shire been stisfactory?' She asked.
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Old 07-06-2005, 06:32 PM   #2072
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Cook and Hanson

Cook was humming along with the music from the common room. Gil and his boys were in good form, though she noted a number of the songs had to do with love, finding love, true love and such. Not the usual songs of drinking and good times she was used to hearing from them at the Inn. ‘I should just see what’s got young master Gil in such a mood,’ she thought to herself. ‘Not like him to be going on so.’

She gave the four big bowls of bread dough a punch down and covered each with a clean towel. One by one she carried them to the cool part of the pantry to rise slowly overnight.

The door to the kitchen banged open just as she was washing up from the bread making. Little Hanson strode in, grinning from ear to ear, a twinkle in his eye. The little scamp wanted something! And there with him was his brother Woody, looking rather exasperated. Behind him stood two of the Big Folk children, skinny little things by her reckoning. Why the young girl looked like she’d blow away in a soft breeze!

She put on her sternest face and drawing her short frame up as tall as she might, she looked down at Hanson. ‘Yes, young Master Boffin? And what are you wanting this time?’ Try as she might, she could not keep the glint of amusement from her eyes, nor the twitch of a barely suppressed laugh from the corner of her lips.

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Old 07-06-2005, 06:53 PM   #2073
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Hanson and Cook . . .

Hanson was not above batting his eyes at Cook. He found it often worked on his Gammer, though not on his Ma, much to his dismay. He put on his serious face after, mirroring hers, and took a deep breath. ‘We’re going to see the new kittens in the barn,’ he said. ‘And of course, we’ll be very careful with them,’ he piped up, forestalling a word of caution from her. ‘Master Meri showed me just how to touch them. And we won’t bother the Mama Kitty.’ He shook his head solemnly to emphasize his words.

He looked about the kitchen hopefully, his eyes lighting on the cookie jar up on the counter, and at the plate of ham and cheese sandwiches on thick slices of bread near it. He could see the golden crust of a few of the sandwiches peeking out from under a napkin laid over them. His stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of setting his teeth into one of them, followed by a fat cookie . . . or two. He knew better than to ask outright for the sandwiches and cookies. Cook would more than likely call him cheeky and send him and the others scurrying off.

Cook was glancing at his two new friends standing behind Woody. ‘Say, you haven’t met my new friends, have you? This is Tim Woodlock and his sister, Wren. They want to see the kittens, too.’
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Old 07-08-2005, 05:09 PM   #2074
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Pipe Seth Cotton

Seth walked along side the road. His feet were aching, as well as his head, and he was starving. The cold breeze was the worst on top of all and the old, green coat he was wearing didn't offer much protection against it. He gazed up at the stars. He had always been really fascinated by their beauty and the peaceful light they offered to a wanderer on a lonesome road. He sighed and sat down for a moment and looked down at his feet. He grunted as he massaged them slowly. It had been a long walk, at least for him, seeing as he, nor his poor feet, was used to these kind of walks.

After his short pause he rose and started walking again. Now a bit faster after recovering some strength and spirit to keep on. He thought about the warm tea, the scent of soup with delicious spices and some bread. Soon he heard a dull murmur, and not too far away, he could even see lights from the houses.

This must be The Green Dragon Inn, he thought for himself and walked faster, totally forgetting about his ache. Driven only by his hunger and longing for warmth.

He got closer and could see the guests inside the Common Room; drinking tea, chatting. Yet he saw a few that were dropping off, saying good night to each other and leaving for their respective rooms. He entered and felt the pleasant heat just pour over him. Seth was rather tired and decided to get a room right away so he could go straight to bed after having a meal. He was a very practical hobbit, always planning what to and how to do it. Simply to be sure that it was to be done right, the way he wanted. This might make it sound as if he was a little egocentric, but in fact he wasn't at all.

He went over to the counter and cleared his throat a little. 'Eh, ahem... Hello?' He started, a little bit modest.
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Old 07-09-2005, 08:22 AM   #2075
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Silmaril Aman

Seeing the newcomer humming and hawing, Aman excused herself from Brim and returned to the bar. "Good evening, sir, how may I help you?"

The hobbit jumped slightly as Aman greeted him from behind, and turned around, smiling a little bashfully. The Innkeeper gave him a wide smile, making her way towards where he stood, weaving between tables with her hands full of glasses. As she did so, she spied a convoy of children scurrying out of the door with a certain air of purpose - both endearing and slightly worrying to the eye that knew of the mischief that children can get themselves into. Dispelling it from her mind, the young Innkeeper turned back to the task in hand. Gesturing for the potential new customer to hang on for a moment, she opened the hinged wooden flap to the bar with her elbow - a rare skill possessed of those who often find themselves with hands entirely full of glasses - and ducked into it, setting them down. Turning back to the hobbit, her hands now free and ready to get to business, she sighed and smiled again. "Sorry - can I help you, sir?"
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Old 07-09-2005, 10:17 AM   #2076
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Hearpwine smiled broadly at Larien's question. "It has indeed! Not only have I learned a number of pleasing tunes -- and even helped in the writing of a new one -- but I have made the acquaintance of a number of new folk. This is indeed a remarkable place for the variety of peoples who come here. There's only one other Inn I've been to like it, but that was many years ago away in my home land of Rohan..."

A quiet voice from behind made Hearpwine turn in surprise. "You speak, no doubt, of the White Horse," the voice was saying. The occupants of the table and saw emerging from the shadows of outside the tall form of Snaveling.

"Aye, that I do my friend. Do you know the place?"

"I have been there," he replied quietly. "But that was many years ago, and in a different life."

Hearpwine bid Snaveling sit and then, clapping his hand to his forehead, cried out, "My old Master would have my hide for not introducing you right away to my new friends. Ginger and Larien, this is my dear companion...I'm not sure which name to use when introducing him, is it Snaveling or Tar-Corondir, for I have heard you called both?"

The dark man put out his hand to Larien, saying easily, "My name in the Shire is Snaveling, for all that it's not so fair as how I am called elsewhere. Ginger I know well," and he avoided her eye as he said this, for her look was not the most kind, "but I am pleased to make your acquaintance Mistress Larien. I must say, that if my name is odd, yours is equally out of place -- if I might be so bold. Larien is not a Halfling name."

Before she could answer Hearpwine burst out, "It is a name that she was given by the Lord Elrond himself in Imladris where the Lady Larian Telemnar was raised as foster child by the Elves! She was the close companion and friend of the Lady Arwen and knows much of Elvish magic and lore. She has returned to her homeland to seek her fortune!" Snaveling, who was quickly becmong accustomed to Hearpwine's enthusiasm, knew better than to take this recitation at face value. The Bard, he knew would rather lose his voice than to use it for a lie, but exagerations were common with the Man of Rohan. Snaveling turned to Larien, "I myself have just come from my new home in the south, where I spent time in the court of the King and Queen. If you were fostered in Imladris and the handmaiden to Arwen, perhaps you knew the Lord Elessar as well?'
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Old 07-09-2005, 04:01 PM   #2077
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Seth stood baffled, seeing how skillful the Innkeeper was as she made her way over to him by the counter. Seth stood on his toes, having both his arms up on the counter. He thought that it might appear rude to her seeing as he was leaning so arrogantly over the counter, but frankly his feet hurted so much he just had to ease the pain a little by leaning onto something.

'Can I help you, Sir?' she said again and got up to him, stroking her hair back a little with a finger.

'Ah, yes!' Seth said, now sounding more confident as he felt a sort of warm and welcoming aura . . . Or what it was, he could not explain to himself. He continued 'A room for the night, please.'

He gazed up at her again, she nodded back at him. He grinned a little, leaning back from the counter a little as he saw how she looked at him. He could not tell if she thought he was rude or if she founded it funny, but he chuckled a little and tried to ease the situation a little.
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Old 07-10-2005, 01:45 PM   #2078
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Silmaril Aman

Aman wrinkled her nose, grinning at the hobbit as he chuckled somewhat nervously. A curious little fellow indeed… The hobbit appeared to be somewhat ill at ease, shifting backwards and forwards on his toes, twiddling his thumbs and fiddling anxiously with his hair, but he didn’t seem at all objectionable. Indeed, the Innkeeper was immediately intrigued by the newcomer – he was a hobbit, yet appeared tired, as if having travelled from afar, which is unusual to say the least for any of the Little Folk. The hobbit smiled bashfully then looked away, his eyes darting around the Common Room – goodness, he was a rather jumpy little fellow. Aman found herself smiling again before answering.

“A room? Of course, sir…” the woman rummaged about a little before producing the Green Dragon log book. Fishing a pen out of an apron pocket, she slid both items across the table towards the hobbit. “If you could put your name here and sign here, please? And may I ask how many nights you wish to stay for Mr…” Aman left the end of the sentence open for the hobbit to easily enter his name.
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Old 07-10-2005, 03:04 PM   #2079
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Silmaril Uien and Falowik

She watched the Fellowship paddle down the Anduin in the elven boats they had given them, and listened to the song the Lady Galadriel sang. It was then that the sea-longing had come over her, and she knew that she must pass over sea.

Uien passed out of dream and looked down at Falowik, whose head rested on her lap in the small bower not far from the Green Dragon Inn's kitchen door. She would not be passing over sea after all. She had tied her fate to this Man, her Laurëatan; golden man.

She looked up. The hawthorn tree no longer stood before her. Uien smiled a private smile. Blessings, fair one. May your leaves ever find the sun and your roots the good drink of Ulmo; and may your gardens bloom bright always.

She bent down and kissed Falowik's brow. "Wake up, my love. 'Tis time to go."

He stirred and frowned. "Go? It is still night."

"Then let us walk in the night."

"What of Kírsul?"

"Let him walk with us."

Falowik sat up and stretched, then looked around. "This place looks a little different than it did before," he mumbled.

"The starlight is different." ...because a tree that stood here no longer casts its kindly shadow here.

Falowik rose to his feet. "Let me get my feet properly under me, then we can be off."

"While you are busy with your balance I will go to Kírsul," Uien replied.

"Very well. What of Eswen?"

Uien stopped and turned. "She shall know of our parting, and will follow us if she chooses, or follow her own road. She shall know that we go to Annúminas." Falowik nodded and shrugged, bemused as always by the ways of Elves, sure that what she said would be so.

Not long after, their fares having been paid already for board and stabling, they passed out of the village of Bywater, following the Great Road until they had passed the last outlying house, then off into the countryside to north and east. The sun was still a long way from dawn's rising, and they expected to be far away by then, with only the stars for companions.
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Old 07-10-2005, 04:37 PM   #2080
Alcarillo
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Alcarillo closed his small book, setting it on the table. He wondered where to travel to in the morning, or even if he would stay at this inn or not, perhaps instead riding through the night. His mind thought of Rivendell, where he could visit some of his kin, or he could turn south-east, and see the majestic ruins of Ost-in-Edhil and Khazad-Dûm. Perhaps he should strike up a conversation with another guest, find out their plans for travel, and maybe even find a companion for the road?

But at the moment Alcarillo realized his hunger, and so gazed across the room, looking for the server. Where was she? He could've sure used some nice wine at that time, with some fresh bread alongside. Alcarillo took off his hood, letting long, dark golden locks fall about his shoulders. He spotted the server, a halfling maiden, and made eye contact and a sort of nodding gesture. He thought she had noticed.
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