The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

It is late evening in the Shire. The weather is fair; the stars are out

[Rinfanawen]

The night seemed to drag on forever. It was like an endless void from which she could not escape. Soon Ana felt her eyes begin to grow heavy and her head sink low. Before she knew what had happened, she was being awakened by Miss Brown, the Hobbit woman.

"If you want, miss, I can ask Aman to get you a room for tonight," the server said.

Ana nodded with a gestured smile and within minutes the Hobbit woman had returned with directions to the room. Ana rose slowly from her place at the bar, raising the hood of her cloak as she stood. She began her slow walk towards the stairs. The floor creaked. No matter how light her feet might have been before, in this drowsy mood nothing could keep her feet from gliding heavily across the wooden floor. She walked once again with her face towards the floor. Her mind began to focus directly on the warmth of the bed in her room, but just as she longed for the blankets and wished she could feel them presently, she began to feel as if she could sense the warmth already around her. She stopped her slow, meaningful walk towards the stairs and stood solemnly still on the wooden floor. The warmth was real. She could feel it swarming at her from a certain point in a room that was close by.

She opened her eyes slowly. They searched the room around her until they met the blazing flames of a crackling fire, and they eyes of a mysterious figure that sat close by. The stranger's piercing, green seemed to reveal a fire of their own as they reflected the flame from the fireplace. Whether invited by the stranger or not, Ana seemed to be captivated with just the look of this traveler, and she took a seat in a chair that was near the fire. Her pale, yellow dress was long, but it was not long enough when sitting to cover her unsightly large feet that she has inherited from her Hobbit mother. She tried her best to avert away from her feet, though it was indeed a hard task, considering her height to be above five foot.

A few moments passed by without any words spoken, but Ana soon was engulfed in starting a conversation between herself and this dark-headed stranger.

"Greetings," Ana said quickly. "My name is Anabell Took. Most people just call me Ana though. I glad that I have the pleasure of speaking with this you late night. What might your name be?"

Ana had admitted at many occasions that she sometimes had the tendency to talk repeatedly, and she didn't always know when to stop, but this was not always a bad trait, as she seemed to find this night in the Green Dragon Inn.

[Bombadil]

Eryndil's sorrow was forgotten with the graceful laugh of Araréiel. She had been dancing, and her free spirit had lightened his heart again. He took the time to look back upon the stars and realized why Legolas had claimed it hers. Her movements were swift and flawless, and she moved like a butterfly. Eryndil noticed her looking at him again, with a look like she wasn't satisfied with all he had told her. "Now that I've made myself a thorough fool, I'm going to ask of you what I was not going to: Will you please tell me what I know it is you are keeping from me?" She asked.

Eryndil smiled at her, slightly enjoying the game the two were playing, and he decided he'd tease her some more to keep her mind off her troubles. "In time, dear Araréiel." Galendor looked away from her as she gave him a scowl, and she tested his stubbornness several times, but he would not yield. Finally she gave up for the time being and asked, "I still do not understand the reasoning behind you hair... the color of elven hair is dark, save in those from golden house of Finrod?"

Eryndil looked at the stars and replied, " It is an entish dye made from the very leaves of the trees in Fangorn. It does not go over very well with those who do not know me, and I thank you for not judging me."

Eryndil looked softly below him and felt a sudden longing for the forests of Fangorn. He had suddenly been disheartened and did not know why, but did not feel like carrying on with their walk here, or anywhere near here for that matter. "I...have an urge to leave my lady elf. Around many in this place I feel unwanted and constricted, and I wish to be around the trees again. Now I depart for Fangorn, but if you would, I would travel further south to the very woods of Ithilien to deliver you to the one you love."


Araréiel seemed concerned with his sudden change of heart, and could not decide whether to leave with him or not. In that hour Eryndil Galendor looked southward and departed in a daze. With every step he took Araréiel was again pressed for her decision. He stopped after many paces and said to her, "I will leave this place, and I don't believe I shall return. If you come with me, let it be now, for I travel in haste and yearning. If no, then It was a pleasure my lady, and namarië!"

It was at that point she made her decision.

[Crystal Heart]

He wasn't what anyone else would call normal in anyway. In fact he was never considered normal. He had run away long ago, but he had never found his way to this portion of the world, the place they called the Shire. It was an interesting place, but he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to be here for very long. There was a little problem with money, he needed some but it didn't matter to him as of right now. He had enough to rent a room and have a couple of meals for a couple of days, but he wasn't sure where or when he would manage to find more. He was beginning to think that running away from his problems wasn't the best thing nor the best idea.

He walked into the Inn and hid in one of the farthest corners of the room, trying to hid in the shadows. He wasn't wanted, nothing of that sort, he was just shy. Very shy. Incredibly shy. It was kind of embarssing how shy he was, but then again he never could get away from it. He just, was... there wasn't anything to do about it.

He hid in the corner with the hood of his long gray cloak up, covering his face. He watched as people came and went, happy or not.. it didn't matter much to him. It was the life of any Inn. He was starting to get use to this sort of life, even though he had never spoke a word to anyone ever, but that wasn't the point at this moment in time.

He could feel the weight of the necklace that his mother had given to him shortly after his birth. It had been his father's-which just happened to have his name on it because he was named for his father. He knew what it said on it, scrolling across the rare silver metal. Their was the name, his father's and his own, and a promise. It was an odd saying, and only half of a promise, but his mother said to search for the other half. Then he would know what his father had left for him.

The name was Samuel Arthur and the promise said this: When you find the thing I've left, you'll know that I've promised you

And that's all it said. He had no idea what else it could mean or who could have the other half. It was senseless to look really, but he couldn't help but feel as if he wanted to know who had the other half, who had his father given the other half of the promise to? And what was the end of the promise?

He sat in the corner, pondering his thoughts and his questions.

[piosenniel]

Bombadil and Araréiel

Please check your PM's before proceeding with your characters' interactions.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Alaksoron]

SAVE for reworked post

Please check your PM's

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[nynnd1]

After having conversations with a few of the characters in the inn, Bredan decided that he would have one more drink and then go off to bed ready to go and see Master Meriadoc in the morning about borrowing a horse, Bredan finished this thought with a yawn, which made him change his mind about the last drink, he ate the last bit of bread left on his plate and departed. As Bredan pushed through the crowd to his room, and the crowd was probably the biggest at the inn since he had arrived, Bredan must have said ‘excuse me’ a thousand times, each with a reply from the friendly customers of Lady Aman. As he pushed through saying excuse me he heard a variety of voices and each accompanied by a different smell. But after he had said one ‘excuse me’ he heard the voice and smelt the smell that comforted him.

“Ah, Lady Aman, may I have a word, once more tonight?” Bredan said not wanting to look in to her eyes to much as he knew she could not be his and did not want to get caught by her beauty again.

“Certainly Master Bredan” the loveliest voice in the room replied.

“Well in the morning I am going to Master Meriadoc’s to see about the use of one of his steed’s, and I am already a bit nervous about meeting the Gentlehoibbit, I was wondering if you would accomapny me, or at least write me letter telling him that you sent me, or even direct me in how to act, as you know him.”

Bredan looked at the floor, for a second, he then glanced at Lady Aman. She looked as if she was thinking, of an excuse or if she had anything planned Bredan could not guess.

[Umwë]

The sky was clear and the stars lighted up Tom’s walk down the small road to the Inn. He sighed and picked up and handful of the most beautiful flowers you can imagine from the little lawn beside the road. They glistened in the dim light from the crescent moon and the twinkling stars. He loved flowers, his dream was that some day he could get a job somewhere as a gardener. He had learned a lot about flowers from his old father that was a gardener in Hobbiton. The flowers smelled wonderful and he wished that moment would last forever. At least the smell of the flowers. He straightened his back and grumbled, his back had started to hurt more and more the last two months. He started to freeze a little and started to run to the Inn as he saw the lighted windows in the dark. He really wanted to sit in a nice comfortable armchair that they had in the common room, and a tiny little stool for his feets that had started to sore.

He stopped outside the door and rest before he entered. Now he felt thirsty after the little run to the Inn. He hanged his hat on a hook beside the door and his face turned out in a big smile and he said “Good evening everyone!” He decided to first of all have an ale in the bar before doing anything else. He felt his feets sore again. Ouch, I really need to rest, he thought and looked down at his feets. On the way to the Inn he had stumbled and a bush with thorns had scratched his right foot. It was bleeding a little but Tom had taken his handkerchief as a bandage around his foot. It looked funny but Tom didn’t care much, and he felt annoyed at a dwarf that stared more than anyone else. He snorted and sat down a few barstools away from the dwarf, the dwarf looked down in the counter and tried to look like he didn’t care. Tom ignored the dwarf and ordered an ale. Ah, the ale here must be the best in the Shire, I’ve never tasted anything like it, he thought and took another sip. As he sat there watching people he saw that it was quite many elves visiting the Inn today. I like elves, they seem nice, I wish I could talk to someone of them, he thought and fell into thoughts about the stories he had heard about elves when he was a little lad. He finished his ale and was just about to take up his handkerchief to clean the foam from the ale he had around his mouth when he realized that his handkerchief was tied around his foot. He mumbled something and made swift move with the back of his hand to clear away the foam. He jumped down from the stool and made his way to the common room.

He sat down in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. The common room was quite empty and Tom cleared his throath to say something but he didn’t say antyhing. He removed the handkerchief from his foot and saw that he was about to get a scar. He sighed and put his handkerchief in the pocket. He laid his feets on a tiny stool in front of the fireplace to warm them. He glanced at an elf that stood a few meters away from his chair.

He felt bored and wanted to talk to someone that could tell him news and other stories and adventures from all around Middle-Earth, cause Tom had never left the boarders of the Shire. But some day I will, he thought.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman nodded obligingly at Bredan, smiling at him. "Of course, Bredan. I will write one directly - please, just give me a few minutes to deal with some of the newer customers."

The Gondorian nodded hastily, mumbling something in reply and still avoiding Aman's eyes. The Innkeeper sighed inwardly - so she had made him feel awkward. It wasn't surprising, she supposed - indeed, she had expected that he may have felt embarassed or, more likely, angry - but currently, she rather wished it had been angry. At least then it would have been over more quickly. Still, she knew she had done the right thing: Bredan had to be set straight. And as he had hopefully said before, maybe if he came back to the Inn another time, and she was able to get the know him better, maybe they would become better friends.

And maybe someday if Snaveling returns.... Aman cut off the wistful thought before it could develop into anything more, dispelling thoughts of the Numenorian. Bad case of rose-tinted glasses, that is, she rebuked herself. He was hardly the perfect customer now, was he?!

Rounding the counter, the Innkeeper came to the fireplace to where a newcomer had sat down, positioning himself with apparently a great deal of relief in one of the chairs, carefully propping his feet up on the footstool in front of it and giving a small sigh. Aman smiled slightly at the hobbit's contentment and strategically ignored the odd way in which one of his feet was bandaged - the hobbit was inspecting it critically himself already from his chair.

"Good evening, sir, can I get you anything?" Aman asked politely, taking her notebook out from a deep pocket in her skirt. The hobbit jumped slightly at her voice, looking across at hobbit-level, then up to the source of the voice, his eyes widening as he realised the woman addressing him was one of the Big Folk. Aman smiled back and continued. "We're still serving supper and drinks, of course, if you intend to stay simply for the evening - or maybe you would like a room if you mean to stay longer?"

[Umwë]

”Good evening, sir, can I get you anything?” a voice behind him said. Tom turned around and saw that it was the Innkeeper, Aman, herself with a smile on her lips. He jumped up but blushed, he had never spoken to anyone of the Big Folks before, and he had hard to find the right words.

“Well, hrm, n-nothing, every thing i-is just fin, t-thank you!” He got quiet for a second and looked down at his feet. He noticed that his wound was still bleeding. He tried to hide it by putting his left foot in front of his right. He looked up at Aman again and he thought it felt like his face was burning. Oh, why do I always blush, he thought and then took a deep breath and said very fast “After all a room for the night could be nice! If that’s.. possible... m’lady!” He blushed again and looked at Aman.

For the first time in his whole life he actually spoke to one of the Big Folks. He was so excited about that he jumped up and down a little of exitment, he hoped she didn’t notice that. He had already made the whole situation very embarrassing for him. He also hoped she wouldn’t laugh or get insulted for his bad manners.

After all she smiled to him so it couldn’t be that bad. Tom relaxed and felt that he didn’t blush anymore and he started to smile too. He felt much better now after all, except for his foot. Suddenly it began to stung in his foot. It still bled quite much. He hissed a muffled Ouch as he put a hand over his mouth. He slowly moved backwards and sat down in the chair. He pinched his eyes and when he opened them he could barely see. His gaze was blurred of tears. “M-maybe something that could h-help my foot, p-please, m’lady” he said and felt how he blushed a little again. Hope it won't get infected!

As the night drew on, Faeradel Aramdial grew weary and decided it was time for a break in his journey. Faeradel was a human, but a tall one at that. Infact one could almost mistake him as an elf at first glance. His frayed, tattered leather over coat dragged behind him, sometimes catching on his tough black boots. The rest of his garments didn't exactly give him a welcoming, nor a wealthy look. Infact he barely had a penny to his name.

He noticed a small sign for a place called 'The Green Dragon' and decided to rest there for the night. He proceeded down the worn foot-path until he came across a junction. Through the ambient darkness he could see a dim light, which he assumed was of The Green Dragon. he paused to consider his options. Should he stop at the Inn and rest his tired legs, or would it be better for him to continue his journey, stopping as little as possible as he had been ordered. Part of him wanted to continue with the journey, but in the end his blistered feet won the argument and he decided to spend the night at the inn. After all, what harm could come to him in a place like The Shire?

Faeradel silently entered the Inn, and after a quick glance around the room he walked to the corner on his right and sat at a bereft looking table. He swiftly avoided the Inn keepers gaze. Until he'd had a chance to reflect on the days events he wanted nothing more than a quiet drink. However to his dismay, he was attracting a lot of attention from a hobbit sat by the fire. Ignoring this, he began to contemplate that evenings events.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman glanced openly at the hobbit's foot for the first time, being as now he had brought it up as she couldn't be counted as being rude. Or...not as rude, anyway. She winced slightly at it - the hankerchief was rapidly being soaked through with blood, and she could see the swelling underneath.

"Good gracious, whatever did you do to it?!" she exclaimed, but not too loudly - the hobbit already seemed quite embarassed enough without any more attention being attracted to his injury. She held up a hand as he blushed even further, twisting his hands slightly. "No, wait - it doesn't matter. I shall get you someone to look at that directly."

Half turning, Aman stopped herself suddenly and turned back to the hobbit. "Sorry, sir, but may I just ask your name? So I know what to call you by."

"M-my name?" the hobbit stammered, as if the question was the most unusual on earth. Realising the absurdity of his pause, a fresh wave of blushing overtook him fervently and he replied quickly. "Cotton, miss. My name is t-Tom Cotton."

Aman smiled politely, pretending not to notice his pause, and bobbed her head slightly. "Right you are, Mister Cotton. I'll be back as soon as I can." Turning away, she finally allowed herself a little grin, although not an unkind one at the hobbit. Why, one would think she was the first Woman ever to be seen in the Shire!

Pushing open the swinging door into the kitchen, Aman waved aside the steam as Ruby opened one of the oven doors to take out a back of buns. Coughing and clearing the air in front of her with a few frantic waves, Aman peered through at the others in the kitchen - Ruby, one of the hobbit waitresses, and Cook. As Ruby was busy with her buns, she turned to Cook, looking over at the matronly hobbit who had positioned herself in the rocking chair wedged between one corner of the cupboards and the side of the oven, a few sheets of parchment on her lap. The Green Dragon's newly returned cook looked over her half-moon glasses at Aman in a scholarly fashion. "Good evening, Aman - what's the matter?"

Aman grinned. "Ms Bunce, have you seen Uien? There's a delightfully absurd little fellow in the Common Room who may need her help."

[Pippin Pondlily]

Pippin Pondlily was taking careful inventory of the books as they were unpacked into shelves on her father’s library in her family’s new burrow in Hobbiton. She etched tally marks with her quill next to the names as they were identified and shelved. Towards evening, Balbo, her father, walked into the new library with his hands in his pants’ pockets. He was a very chubby hobbit of about fifty plus years of age. He had an incredible pile of thick curly brown hair and long ears that dipped nearly to his shoulders. His eyes were blue and merry and there were laughter lines all about his eyes and mouth. Renowned for his sense of humor, Balbo had been loved dearly in Binbale Wood and undoubtedly would be so here in Hobbitton.

Now he pulled absently at his chin and glanced out the window. The sun was dropping down behind the distant trees and soon it would be supper time.

“You should get out this evening to a pub or something and meet some of the other young hobbits, eh? You go get dressed up for dinner, we’re going to the Goldworthies for there’s not a thing to eat here, well, nothing proper anyways and afterward you can have the evening to yourself. How’s that Pip?”

Pippin smiled gratefully, “That would be wonderful!” she said and kissed him on the cheek on her way out of the library, pushing the book and quill into his arms.

Back in her room where most of her things were unpacked she was contemplating what to wear. She looked in the mirror. Her long wavy blond hair was braided down her back with flyaway bangs hanging down to the left side of her face, covering one full, arched brow. She raised her other brow and winked her long lashes, catching flashes of an intense blue that was the color of her eyes. She smiled enchantingly.

“Hullo Pip,” her mother announced walking in with another trunk of Pippin’s things. “Just a few dresses in this one.” She set it down and looked at Pippin. “Getting out tonight my dear?” Pippin nodded in the mirror. “Well have fun dear and be ready to go over to the Goldworthies in a couple minutes, your aunt is so excited about us living so close again.” Mrs. Pondlily shut the door quietly and Pippin could hear her giving instructions to one of the neighbors who helped them move in about the chairs for the dining room.

Pippin opened the trunk her mother had brought in. She flitted her fingers through the folds of dresses and decided on a nice, dark blue colored one with brown and cream embroidery. This she slipped on over her white chemise and laced up the sides to fit her figure. Taking a look in her glass she undid her hair, brushed it thoroughly, and braided it down her back again. About her neck she clasped a leather chord from which hung a disc with the etching of a wood: Binbale Wood.

After dinner that night she walked down the narrow road to the town’s main circle, looking for a pub. There was one that caught her eye immediately with light pouring out over the flower pots in each window and lots of music and laughter coming from within. She looked up at the sign swinging about the door: The Green Dragon. It seemed just as fine a place as any, maybe better, and she let herself in.

Inside there was a great crowd of people. Though there were mostly hobbits, Pippin was amazed at the number of men, dwarves and elves there were also. She wandered up to the long wooden counter that served as bar and check-in and got the attention of one of the inn maids.

“Good evening!” the woman replied cheerfully. “What will it be then for you Miss? Dinner? Room? Both perhaps?” Her eyes were very bright and her smile was pretty. Pippin felt quite at ease.

“Actually, I’ve just moved in about three days ago, just moved to Hobbiton that is--” she pressed up against the bar as a hefty dwarf pushed past her to a chair at the counter. “And I thought I would come down to an inn or pub and have a hot tea and maybe meet some locals.” She paused and looked around at the strange diversity of patrons. “Well, or non-locals, apparently…”

The hobbit woman laughed pearls. “What’s your name, then, lass?”

“Pippin Pondlily,” she said, extending her hand over the counter.

“Pippin?” the woman said, shaking her hand. “Usually a boy’s name wouldn’t it be though?”

Pippin nodded. “Aye, but my father was set on naming his first child regardless of gender.” She winked and the woman chuckled again.

“It’s lovely. I’m Ruby Brown. I’ll be getting your tea then. Feel free to sit where you please. I’ll find you.”

“Many thanks.” Pippin looked around the crowded room before deciding on an empty chair pulled up to a small round table against the wall. From here she decided she could best see the room and the interesting people within as she waited for Ruby Brown to bring her tea…

Having looked back on his days events, Faeradel took out a relatively old looking parchment. To a stranger it was barely recognisable, as it was a map of Eriador, drawn and annotated completely by Faeradel. Marked with a curious symbol was little known village, to the West banks of the Gulf of Lhûn. Also marked with this symbol was Rivendell. Faeradel began plotting the route which he planned to embark on come sunrise. His expedition hadn't been at all challenging as of yet, other than losing his horse there had been no trouble. Faeradel decided the next stop in his journey would be Bree, where he could set about finding a new horse. After all, he was already three days behind schedule.

Faeradel returned the parchment to his backpack, and looked around the bar at some of the locals. He was generaly a sociable person, so he decided it was time for a drink. He got up from the table leaving his backpack by his chair, and approached the bar. stood behind the counter, smiling graciously was a respectable looking lady, who Faeradel assumed was the landlord.
"Good evening ma'am, are you still serving dinner?" Asked Faeradel, politely as possible.

"It's been a long day, and my horse ran off with what little food I had left still tied on his back." said faeradel, trying to initiate a conversation. As if the bar maid wasn't already rushed off her feet.

"One moment please, I'll take your order as soon as I've dealt with this poor hobbit." She replied solemnly.

"Of course." Said Faeradel, expecting such a response. He glanced around the room, when the hobbit he'd noticed earlier caught his eye again. The gash in the poor chaps foot was secreting blood, and soaking the handkerchief wrapped around it. Faeradel almost walked over to him, but thought it better to wait and order his drink and meal first. Afterall, he didn't want to appear impatient or rude to the bar maid.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

A tall,cloaked figure stepped into the Green Dragon,unintentionally slamming the door behind it.It turned its' head slowly from side to side,taking in its' surroundings.After a while,seeming satisfied of what it saw,it lowered its' hood to reveal a young woman.

She was in her late teens,and her appearance was that of a beggar.Her tanned face looked as if it had endured many years of tragidies all crammed into one.Bags sagged under her dark brown eyes,which were in a way that always made her look sad.Her long,light brown hair lay in curls about her head,and looked as if she had not bothered to care for it in days.Her cloak,a dark green,was torn in many places,and looked five sizes to big for her.But the thing that people took the most heed of was a large,livid bruise on her forhead.It looked as though someone had banged her head on a stone floor.

She took a seat at an unoccupied table in a shadowy corner and started to pick at her fingernails.The server came to her.
"Can I get you something to eat or drink miss?"

The young womans head jerked up at the sound of 'eat'.
"Eat?"She said quickly.Her voice was harsh,as though it pained her to talk."Eat?Drink?....Yes,I would be much obliged if you were to bring me some chicken...alot of chicken,and water...alot of water.Please."

The hobbit stared at her for a moment."May I ask your name miss?"She asked.

The young woman looked confused for a moment,staring at the hobbit with eyes that suddenly looked as though they were trying to remember something far off.....Then her body jerked slightly,and she was back at the present.

"My name?"She finally said,"Name?....Ah yes,my name.....I know my name,it's not like I dont!"She said angrily,as though the hobbit had occused her of not."It's Anjareen,but you can call me Anja.Thats what my friends call me."

The hobbit nodded and walked away quickly to get the order. Anja stared at her for a while.....My friends.....I DO have friends...right?

Ofcourse you do.Said a sly voice at the back of her head.Well,atleast you DID have friends.....

Did?She asked the voice.Why 'did'?Where are they?Are they not my friends anymore?

Dont you remember?The sly voice said,plainly amused.

No,I dont remember.She answered,angry that the voice was amused while she was still confused.

"I dont remember anything. I dont remember leaving home,I dont remember not having friends.I cant remember a single thing....."In fact,the only thing she could remember was that four nights ago,when that terrible thing happened.....The voice just laughed at her.

"Why are you laughing?"Anja said angrily."Stop laughing at me.....Stop it.Stop it I said!"

It was a while before she realized she had been talking out loud.People had paused their consversations to stare at her.She stared back at them for a while,then turned her attention back to picking at her nails.

The hobbit broght her food,and she began to wolf down the chicken.She didnt care about the stares she was attracting at the moment.She hadnt eaten since that night....

[Amanaduial the archer]

Cook shrugged lightly, shaking her head. "Sorry, Aman, I haven't seen her since she went out with Falowik some time ago-"

"Haven't seen who? Someone I should know about, I trust?" Uien's cool, smooth voice was followed by the sound of the kitchen door closing with a light click. Aman turned to see the beautiful elf standing wraithed ghost-like in the steam from Ruby's buns and smiled openly at her, moving forward to take the other's hand.

"Come Uien, I have someone I need to show you..." Uien smiled back widely, and Aman noted the dreaminess in it, and the way she simply couldn't have helped herself - whether Aman had given her reason to or not, she would have smiled. The Innkeeper raised an eyebrow as they moved out of the kitchen and Uien laughed, wagging a mock retributary finger at the other. "Now, now, Aman, what was that look for?"

Aman replied with all innocent eyes, holding a hand to her chest as if deeply wounded. "What, me? Oh, but Uien, I didn't say a word..." she let her facade melt into her more usual grin and beckoned with a tilt of her head. "There is a hobbit who needs your help - he has-"

"Wounded his foot?"

Aman stared at the elf for a moment, flabbergasted, until Uien laughed once more and pointed over towards the fire. "Not psychic, Aman - there are these things called eyes..."

The Innkeeper replied with her eyebrow raised again and the pair made their way over to Tom Cotton. As Uien seated him in the armchair again (he had risen, for some reason) and lifted his foot to the footstool once more, Aman felt a hand touch her arm and turned inquiringly, then looked up to the new customer, a tall...gentleman? The rough looking man seemed almost elven in his appearance, because of his height and some other aspect in the way he carried himself, but his unshaven appearance and tattered longcoat made him look a sight more roguish. Still, when he inquired as to whether dinner was still being served, his voice was perfectly polite, and manners would do just fine for Aman.

"It's been a long day, and my horse ran off with what little food I had left still tied on his back." The man's second comment seemed a little random, but he was evidently trying to start up a conversation. Aman shot him a quizzical glance, then excused herself. "One moment please, I'll take your order as soon as I've dealt with this poor hobbit."

"Of course."

Tom will be fine with Uien for a few moments... Aman turned away from the elf and hobbit and back to the man. "My apologies, sir - you would like to eat? And a drink as well...pardon me, may I ask what your name is?"

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik watched as Uien was whisked away by Aman. He excused himself to Cook and ambled back into the Common Room. He returned to Eodwine and company, and settle back next to his half finished ale mug. He turned to Eodwine.

"Master Eodwine, it is getting late, and I recall a tale you promised for late in the night."

"Ah, that I did," Eodwine smiled, "but only if there are ears willing to hear the tale, and no young and innocent ears must hear, for it is a harrowing story."

Falowik nodded and drank from his mug.

Falco Boffin spoke up. "What do you s'pose that thing what killed him was, Master Eodwine? The thing you pushed him into?"

"Don't be giving away the tale before it is told, Master Boffin!" laughed Eodwine. "I'll tell what I think when the time comes, which will be soon. In fact, why not go round up a few bodies who might want to hear the tale, Master Falco? And grab Ruby or Buttercup while you walk, for my mouth is just about dry and could use a wetting before I begin."

"So it shall be, Master Eodwine." Falco got up and moved to the bar.

[Umwë]

On distance Tom could see Aman coming back with an elf on her side. He rubbed his eyes and looked again to be sure that it was an elf. As he realized that his eye’s wasn’t wrong he started to feel nervous again. He tried to not blush and tensed himself so much that his body started to shake. He took a deep breathe just before they approached him.
“This is Uien, Tom. Uien, this is Tom.” Aman said and smiled to them both. Uien looked scary to Tom, she looked ghostly in a way he couldn’t describe. Uien’s face yet looked warm and kind but Tom still couldn’t get the thoughts about her being a ghost out of his head. Tom could see how Aman suddenly disappeared and helped another customer.

“M-my foot...” he said with a low voice. His throat felt dry and Tom squirmed and started to sweat.

“Don’t worry. It will be fine.” Uien said with her beautiful elven voice and tried to calm Tom down.

She picked up a plant with long leaves and crushed it softly in her hands and it spread a delightful fragrance in the room. He sniffed and tried to remember the smell from the plant. “I know t-that smell... It is...” Tom started. He began to feel exhausted and he just got more tired. “It is Athelas“ Tom said and closed his eyes and sniffed again to be sure. Uien looked at him and her face turned into a surprised look. “You know about this herb?” she said softly and tried to not sound too surprised. “Well... Yes, I know quite a lot about plants and herbs.. This plant is very useful when it comes to healing, yet not many know’s about it’s healing powers.” Tom paused for a few seconds. “My father was a gardener and I’ve been his apprentice for a time now, in hope that I could settle myself somewhere and work with gardening.” Tom said and closed his eyes again. He sighed deeply and looked at Uien again that still looked at him and he could see the shape of Aman coming up behind Uien and looked at Tom too.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Brief introductions having been made between the pair of them, Aman brought out a meal for Faeradel, a trencher of rabbit meat and potatoes. The man gratefully recieved it and tucked into it eagerly, whilst poring over a rather withered piece of paper - a scroll of some sort. As she passed, Aman let her eyes flicker surreptitiously down towards it and sneaked a quick glance at the paper and found it was a map of some sort - she recognised several names from around Eriador, also noting Rivendell on the map. Intriguingly, the Last Homely Home was crossed neatly with charcoal.

Pushing aside her piqued curiosity - alright, nosiness - the Innkeeper moved over to where Uien knelt beside Tom's foot, and saw the elf was regarding her hobbit 'patient' with a curious look.

"...father was a gardener and I’ve been his apprentice for a time now, in hope that I could settle myself somewhere and work with gardening." Aman caught the end of the hobbit's words, and noted that something seemed to come over him as he spoke about this, a sort of quiet confidence in what he was saying

"Well, that sounded like a flat out hint," Aman laughed, and the hobbit looked up to her, a stricken look on his face, all politeness once more

"Oh, Miss Aman - I didn't see you there-"

Aman waved it away, handing the hobbit the refill of ale that she had brought. "Don't worry, master Cotton, I wasn't offended. No, but what you are saying is interesting - you say you have been looking for work around about here as a gardener?"

Tom's face lit up very slightly. "Aye...aye, Miz Aman, that I have," he replied carefully.

Aman nodded, her head on one side contemplatively. After all, since Beren had taken off some months ago, having to see to some business with family somewhere in the region of Gondor, they had been without a full time gardener. There had been Hawthorne in the past few weeks until a few days ago, of course, but she had gone back home to the Brandybuck family seat, Brandybuck Hall, a few days ago - and with the best wishes of Aman, Ruby and Buttercup, of course, for she had been invaluable since the fire, throwing herself into everything with great enthusiasm. It had been a pity to lose her in many aspects - gardening being one of them, for Miss Hawthorne Brandybuck had turned out to have surprisingly green fingers. But now...well, it was always useful to have the garden well tended, especially the vegetable garden, and Hawthorne had often said that it would have been excellent to keep chickens there, if there had been someone to look after them on a more full time basis...

"I will speak to you later, Master Cotton," Aman said at length. Then, with a smile, she took his empty glass and went away on her rounds, caught up in thoughts.

[Rinfanawen]

Anabell was engulfed in the moment at the fireplace, though the stranger remained silent for quite some time. Ana felt almost a shy quality come over her, which was strange indeed. Never before had she spoken so quickly to someone and not have the person reply with at least a shocked statement about her tendency to keep talking. This stranger just sat there. He was quiet, and yet Ana saw a thousand words spring forth out of this man's intense, green eyes. The stranger did not tell his background or story, but Ana found a history of tales from merely the scar on his right cheek. For once, Ana was silent as well.

Many moments passed by without word or movement by either character. Just as Ana felt as if she could stay silent no longer, her first word was interrupted by a scream in the other room.

"Why are you laughing?" a voice yelled angrily. "Stop laughing at me.....Stop it. Stop it I said!"

Whether just out of curiosity, or if for some reason she was concerned for the person who yelled, Ana found herself deserting the silent stranger she sat with. She wandered quickly back to the main room in the inn to see almost everyone who was present staring at a particular table in the corner. The small table was occupied by a young woman, who seemed to be a bit troubled. She sat fiddling with her fingernails, while also engulfing a piece of meat faster than anyone Ana had ever seen. Ana walked up to the bar but kept her eye on the woman at the table. Ana ordered a drink. She began to walk towards the table, but she felt something was telling her to return to the bar. The Hobbit woman, Ruby Brown, walked by, and Ana stopped her to order one last thing.

"What can I do for you, miss Ana?" Ruby asked in her usual pleasant voice.

Ana ordered the food she wished and made her way towards the lonely table at which the woman sat. As Ana approached the table, she could tell that this young stranger was troubled by some great event; The tattered clothes and discoloring of her skin seemed to show that themselves. Ana sat in the chair opposite the woman, though she had not even been seen sitting down. The woman was concentrated hard on the large piece of chicken. Ana waited. She waited for a moment that the stranger would possibly stop eating for a moment, but the moment seemed to not be coming until the whole chicken had been eaten. Ana thought for a moment, and then spoke.

"I...I brought you a small loaf of bread," Ana said in an unusually slow tone. The woman looked up at her in curiosity, and Ana continued, "I thought you might be hungry, so I decided to see if I could join you. My name is Ana, I...you're not from around here are you?"

Ana waited for a reply.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

Anja stared up at the woman,Ana.She took a gulp of water and cleared her throat.

"Yes,please,have a seat."She said to Ana.The woman sat down and laid a piece of bread near Anja.

"Thank you."Anja said tearing it in half and stuffing a peice in her mouth.The hunger died away as she swollowed the bread,in fact,she was feeling pretty full at the moment.

She looked back to Ana,who stared at her curiously."I am sorry,I have forgotten my manners.My name is Anjareen.But please,call me Anja.And no,I am not from around here.I am from...."
Where am I from?She thought.She couldnt remember....

Ana continued to stare at her. Anja,with out realizing what she was doing,began to pick at her nails again. It was her stradegy to relieve stress.
Change the subject,She thought quickly.Change the subject.....

"I notice I have been acting strangly,and I apologize if I alarmed you. Pay no attention to my...uh...hysteria."She laughed."If you do,you will be constantly worried."

When did it start?She thought to herself.I suppose that night....When it happened....She shuddered and took another drink of water.

[Umwë]

Uien laid a bandage around the foot and the salve that she ahd made out of Athelas. She smiled to Tom and helped him up. Tom felt nervous when she touched him and took his hand. Now he had actually touched an elf too. This night really started perfect, except for his wound. He carefully walked around in the room to check if he could walk as Uien looked at him and smiled. He stopped in the middle and jump up and down a little and it didn’t hurt at all. He almost screamed of happiness but instead he ran over to Uien and gave her a hug.
“Thank you so much.” he said and smiled.

“Your welcome.” Uien replied and smiled back.

Tom saw two women sit in a corner, one of them looked really stressed and nervous. Maybe I could do them some company He walked over to their table and stopped. He bowed deeply and grinned. “I am Tom Cotton from Hobbiton, may I join you ladies?” The other woman looked up at Tom, but the other still picked her nails and Tom felt like he had interrupted them in the middle of something, so he blushed and mumbled “Ehrm... If you... don’t mind... of course.”. He gulped and hoped that they didn’t got offended by his forward manners. As he blushed he bowed again and tried to hide it, I must look so stupid, he thought and looked back at the ladies and awaited their answer.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

Anja stopped picking at her nails and looked at the hobbit,Tom.She nodded.

"Yes,please have a seat Tom.My name is Anja."

Tom took a seat while Anja drank some more water.She looked at the two people sitting with her,Ana and Tom.She smiled wide.I'm actually having a consversation with someone,the first time since that night.....What ever DID happen that night?I only remember bits and pieces....Oh stop it,She thought angrily,Stop thinking about it.There are people who want to talk to you,so do it!

"So...."She said to her two companions."The weather is nice,no?"

[Umwë]

Tom looked at Anja that still seemed to be thinking of something. Yet Tom felt uncertain about what to say, did she expect him to agree. Tom grinned to Anja and tried to not blush and then looked out of the window. It was dark and the stars still twinkled as they seemed to be filled with joy and happiness. As Tom looked at it he couldn’t avoid to smile, it was very beautiful actually.

Finally Tom replied “Well, it’s very beautiful when all the stars are out like tonight, it’s not very often you see them like this.” Tom hoped it didn’t sound too naive and added a grin after his reply. The other woman, which he didn’t know the name, intended to be very quiet and calm, actually Anja did seem to be it too even if she tried to come up with a conversation. After all we don’t know each other, he thought and glanced around the Inn. Their conversation, if you could call it that, stopped and it got silenced around the table.

Tom cleared his throat several times and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead he started to tapp his fingers to the wooden table. He saw Ruby passing by, so he stopped her and ordered an ale for himself. As she left again Tom finally said “Oh, silly me, maybe you want something too?” He felt embarrased and blushed a little. As Tom now had broken the silence he continued; “Well, where are you two from? And what brings you here?” Tom got more and more curious about Anja and her nervousness.

Tom got quiet again and Anja seemed to be thinking of what she would answer. He could almost tell that she were hiding something.

[Aniriuq Raevla]

"Where am I from?"Anja laughed nervously."Well,you see,i'm from...uh...i'm from...."She stared at the table,trying to remember.....

Anja....Are'nt you going to answere him?The voice was back.

Go away,Anja thought angrily.Just leave me alone!She started to pick at her nails again,there wasnt much left on either finger,as she had already picked at them all.

"Ouch!"She had picked one of her nails to the flesh,and it was bleeding slightly.She put pressure on it against her shirt.

The voice laughed evily and died away.Anja looked back up to Tom,who was staring at her,waiting for an answer.She cleared her throat.

"I am from...a far away place,and I came here...for adventure.To see the world."Yes,She thought happily.THAT is why I left home,for adventure.To see the word....She had remembered something.

[Lalwendë]

A Late Arrival

Out of the darkness a black horse approached, pulling a rickety cart. The cart wheels were off balance and they caused it to lurch as it went. The horse was large and heavy, and he moved along stoically. There were many brasses on his harness, but it was no matter to him, he was used to heavy work, pulling wagons, tilling fields, bearing people, it was all the same. He plodded on faithfully.

Driving the cart was a small woman, almost asleep. Her eyelids were drooping with weariness and her body slumped in the seat. She had not stopped for several hours and was half dreaming about a cool pint and a soft bed. As the lights of the inn came into view she lifted her head and straightened up.

“Nutkin, an inn! Oh for an ale and a featherbed!” She jingled the reins to urge the horse to speed up a little. “Come boy, a little haste and we may get a lodging here yet, and maybe the finest bale of hay in all The Shire for you.” The horse nodded his huge head and he went a little faster.

Soon they had reached the inn and stopped at the side of the road. The woman drew up the reins, climbed down from the cart and stretched. She gave a wide yawn and smoothed down her clothes. She was a small woman, and dressed modestly. Her tunic was simple, made of leaf-green linen with a round neck into which she had tucked a white cotton scarf, forming a collar. The scarf was slightly food stained, as she was not the most delicate of diners. From the hips down her tunic was split into four, and hung almost to her feet. The splits made it practical, and the length, respectable. Underneath she wore dark green breeches, tucked into a pair of knee length brown leather boots, old and cracked from wear. Over this she wore a plain brown cloak, which she had pushed back from her shoulders as the woollen fabric was irritating to her. Around her hips was a leather belt with several pockets and pouches attached, stuffed with all manner of things she couldn’t be without, including some money, and the long black dagger she used in her work.

She kept her russet coloured hair in four long braids, tied up on top of her head using string, which she hoped would keep it in neatly place, but a few strands were escaping, as always. She frowned slightly as she pushed them back, a habit she had. Rummaging in the cart, she drew out a yellow rose, and pushed into the knot of braids on her head. This, she hoped, would give her a little femininity, yet without detracting too much from what she considered her respectable appearance. She did not think herself much of a beauty, but there were those in Bree, where she travelled from, who did admire her, especially on those rare times she allowed herself some fun and her pale blue eyes sparkled with laughter.

When she was a young girl, during the troubles with the Southerners who had assaulted Bree, she hadn’t had much chance to smile. And since then, there had been little time for it, as she had been too busy building back up the family business. She and her father lived in her mother’s old farmhouse by the Greenway, among the fields and orchards they had spent all these years tending since the ruin wrought on them by the troubles. They grew the flowers that were given as gifts, the plants to fill the window boxes and borders of the homes of Men and Hobbits alike, and the herbs which she and her family made into sauces and ointments, following the recipes in her mother’s old notebook. They had worked hard, and now her niece was old enough to work the little farm while she made for The Shire to drum up some new business.

She still carried her trusty garden hoe with her. Sharpened to a knife edge, she had once wielded it at a gang of ruffians who had attempted to carry her off, back in the dark days. She had swung it at one of them and cut his arm, making him run away, yelping in pain. She had slept with the hoe under her bed ever since, and it was in the cart with her now. The black dagger she paid no heed to as a weapon. That was just used for deadheading plants and cutting string.

Jinniver Cornthrift had come to The Shire to make a little money. Maybe some of the Shire folk, who loved their gardens so much, would want to buy some of the seeds and cuttings she carried in her cart, or they might be tempted by the jars of sauces, mint, apple or horseradish. She hoped to sell a few of these things, perhaps some of the Shire folk would want regular orders from her. Who knew, one day she might have a shop here, several shops. Then she could maybe buy the soft velvet cloak she had dreamed about last night.

Peering into the window, she noticed that the inn was very busy, lots of beautiful creatures, elves by the look of it, and handsome men, and carousing hobbits. She thought of the bunches of flowers in the cart and went back to get a few in a small bucket. Surely there would be someone who wanted to impress a lady in here? Well, they wouldn’t go far wrong with the fragrant flowers from Cornthrift Farm. As she turned back to the inn, she tutted to herself.

“Tch, Jinniver, all you need right now is some supper and a bed, get a hold of yourself”, said the voice of the carefree girl she could have been. “But how else are you going to be able to afford to buy a soft velvet cloak?” replied the hasty voice of her normal, sensible self. “Or a better wagon”.

Jinniver pushed open the door a little clumsily, and steeling herself, for she only felt truly comfortable when on her own in the fields, made for a table in the middle of the room. She thumped down heavily onto a stool, and biting her lip, looked up and around her with a false look of confidence.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"From what I've seen, seems adventure is much less desirable than it is cracked up to be," Aman said matter-of-factly as she passed the table where Tom was sitting with two women, sweeping a few dirty tankards off the table and giving the table a quick wipe as she did so. Looking around at them, she gave the two women a smart smile. "Alright, ladies? Can I get you anything?"

The pair regarded her as if lost for words, and Aman took careful note of one especially - a young woman, maybe of about Aman's age, but so weary looking that she could be five times that, a sad and troubled expression on her face as she nibbled at her nails, avoiding Aman's eyes. The Innkeeper made a mental note to keep an eye of this beggarly wander - not for any reason stemming from prejudice, but because when one seemed so depressed, you could rarely be careful enough. Still, Tom had proved himself to be a cheering enough prescence as yet - Uien had come away beaming from ear to ear a few moments ago, and had laughed when Aman asked her why, shaking her head and saying that the little fellow had actually given her a hug. In a world of Big People tainted by their history, a history they were still trying to mend, and so many wrestling with private demons, such sweetness in anyone out of childhood made the Shire a pleasant, sweet surprise.

The door swung shut, a cold blast of night air rushing in with it and Aman looked up to see a newcomer. But although this woman, like most who came into the Green Dragon, was a stranger to Aman, the Rohirrim Innkeeper knew well enough straight away this woman's profession. Excusing herself from Tom and his two companions, she crossed the room to the young woman and smiled politely.

"Good evening, miss - come, have a seat." She ushered the unresisting young woman to a table by one of the windows, outside which night was falling fast, but did not offer to take her cloak. The woman, she guessed immediately from her appearance, was some sort of peddlar, and there were two main rules when it came to such people: firstly, don't try to take their cloaks - much was often stored inside them; secondly, always be polite. It was the same rule Aman applied to everyone, but merchants of any type were a special case - for when you're buying from someone, it is always best to get on their good side.

"Can I get you anything, Miss....?" She left the end of the inquiry open, in the hope the woman would fill it with her name, but didn't press.

[Lalwendë]

Jinniver had been offered a comfortable seat straight away by a woman who appeared to be the innkeeper. “Can I get you anything, Miss…..?” she asked, smiling. Jinniver recognised the business like smile of the trader, but something in this woman’s eyes was a little more honest, as though she was used to welcoming strangers. As though she enjoyed meeting strangers. Jinniver relaxed a little. It was always difficult to enter an inn alone, no matter how hungry and tired she was.

“Miss Cornthrift. Jinniver. You may call me Jinniver”, she extended her arm to shake the hand of the innkeeper and gave a warm, broad smile. Jinniver did not notice the dirt in her fingernails, and the innkeeper pretended not to see it, out of politeness.

“Am I late for supper? If you would be so kind enough, I could eat just about anything. And an ale, perhaps?” Jinniver was particularly looking forward to the ale she had heard so much about. Was it done for a woman to order ale in The Shire? She didn’t want to upset anyone. “Oh, and would there be room in your stable for a hungry cart horse? He’s a very placid animal,” she asked, thinking of her most faithful companion, Nutkin. She did not ask about the bed for herself, for she thought she had already asked for far too much at once.

Almost forgetting herself, she sniffed at the bunches of flowers, as if to emphasise how lovely they were. She hoped that it had been subtle, and she did not appear like any common trader. It was a trick she used often in Bree, and it seemed to work. She looked at the innkeeper, smiling.

“And what might your name be?”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman inclined her head, pretending not to notice the woman's barely subtle sniff of her flowers. Flowers, seeds and cuttings then were probably this woman's wares - my, suddenly everyone seems to feel the need to pay attention to the garden!

"My name is Aman - I am the Innkeeper here at the Green Dragon. You are...somewhat late for supper," she paused momentarily, casting a glance outside the window at the now dark skies, then looked back to Jinniver. "-but I can arrange something for you. And your horse will, of course, be stabled - I will go and mention it to Merimac now." She half turned, then paused, eyeing Jinniver herself. "And you, Miss Cornthrift - will you be staying the night?"

Anunsew

Please check your PM's.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Lalwendë]

Jinniver felt relieved and sighed lightly. Aman, as she now knew the innkeeper to be named, had asked her about whther she wouldlike to take a room for the night. The sensation of falling into a soft featherbed and sleep briefly passed through her mind, and she said that yes, she would like to stay at the inn.

“Aman, you have been most kind. I must give you a little something.” she said, reaching into the bucket of flowers. She pulled out a bunch of bright red poppies, allowing the drips of water to fall onto her own lap, to avoid making a mess of the table. Aman made to refuse the gift politely, but Jinniver spoke before she could say any more.

“I have had a difficult day. Another inn I passed along the way was not able to give me lodging. I fear I might have been a little too….rustic for them. So you must have these in token of thanks. They are grown from seed brought all the way from the Rohan,” she said, her smile fading a little as she remembered the man who had given her the seeds from which she now grew these delicate nodding flowers. “They are unlike ordinary poppies, they will brighten your parlour for some days, if you wish to place them there.”

She grew these flowers now not just for their beauty, but also to remember the life she had lived years before. It gave her joy to see them nodding in the grassy meadow she kept for their nursery, and others also loved to see them in full flower. Many of the Breelanders came asking for bunches of them. Once a handsome dark-haired elf on his travels had stopped to paint a picture of the poppy field. He had allowed her to stand by and watch as he worked. She did not know what was more wonderful, the poppies, the smooth hands of the elf or the painting he made.

As she was handing the flowers to Aman, Jinniver noticed that the stems of the poppies were a little straggly, and drew her dagger from the pouch on her belt, to trim them, so they would be perfect. She swiftly nicked the uneven inch or so from the bottom and then passed the flowers to Aman, who thanked her kindly for the gift.

Jinniver relaxed back into her seat, and removed her old brown cloak. Much as she disliked the cloak, she carefully folded it as it was the only one she had at the moment. She looked around at the interesting crowd of people. She saw finely dressed elves, a stern man, and a hooded figure sitting furtively in one corner. Two women sat with a hobbit. One of the women wore a cloak that seemed much worse than her own and she told herself sternly that she was very fortunate and shouldn’t dream so much of fine things.

She still felt as though people may be staring at her, wondering what could have brought a rustic like her into this inn, so she pushed her chin out a little more firmly and tried to look as though she belonged there. But if anyone had been looking at her, it might have been the dagger which she had carelessly left lying on the table that caught their eyes. Its handle was wrapped up in webbing - which Jinniver had wound around it as it was finely carved, and she did not want to spoil it - but the blade was made of an unusual shining black metal which glimmered like a dancing black spark in the firelight.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman took the flowers tentatively, surprised and pleased at the token, and turned to go into her parlour, where she could leave them off before going out to see Merimac about Jinniver's horse. As she pushed open the door, the light reflected suddenly on them from some shiny surface in the room, and the poppies were caught, suddenly illuminated. Aman paused, letting the door close behind her, studying them carefully. Poppies weren't a particular favourite of hers, or hadn't been until now, but looking at these delicate, blood red specimens, like soft shaped rubies, she could suddenly see beauty in them, tiny and understated as they were. She remembered a pony back in Rohan, the pet of one of the daughters of Edoras 'high society', who went by the name of these flowers - a beautiful creature, with a coat as soft and velvety as the petals of these flowers, and tinted with a red tinge that shivered across it's body and legs when it walked or ran. She rubbed one of the petals between her thumb and forefinger gently, feeling the silky surface that so many flowers had, and found the way the petals were so short and rotund, yet so pretty, rather lovely as well. So much expression in something so small. Rather like the little pony Ruby as well, she smiled to herself.

Not having an actual vase handy, Aman rinsed out a cup sitting on her desk from last night at the sink at one side of her room, and placed the little bunch of flowers inside it. Putting it on her desk, she stepped back and admired them momentarily, a smile hovering on her lips before she turned with a content sigh and returned to the bustling Common Room, somehow much heartened even by such a small and unexpected gift. Crossing the room, she opened the front door and stepped outside into the cool air of the night. Shivering at the sudden change in temperature from the warm room, she folded her arms around her and shrugged against the air, turning towards the stables. As she entered the courtyard, she saw a dark, bulky silhouette move by one of the walls and paused. It moved again, and she heard a quiet snort as the horse tossed it's head, shifting one foot and shaking itself. By it's size, Aman guessed that that would be Jinniver's carthorse.

One of the tall, wide doors of the stables hung open a crack, letting soft lantern light from inside creep out in a defiant ray across the cobblestones of the courtyard along with the soft sounds and comforting smell of satisfied horses. Pushing it open a little further, Aman edged in and looked around for the hobbit stable lad. "Merimac? Merimac, are you there?"

[starkat]

After meeting with her brother, the young elf maid decided to return to the Green Dragon. She knew she wouldn't be able to stay long. Gwenneth rode into the stable yard at the inn and dismounted. Reaching the stables, she heard a voice calling out “Merimac? Merimac, are you there?”

Gwenneth dismounted and entered the stable. Seeing that it was the innkeeper who had spoken, the elf maid went up to her after tying Elenath up. “I was here earlier and was wondering if you had a room I could rent for the night.”

[Envinyatar]

Merrimac made no immediate answer. But there was a rustling from inside the stable, coming from the end where the stablemaster’s quarters were. A familiar voice called out along the row of horses and ponies.

‘Is that you, Aman?’

Derufin walked down the earthen track between the rows of stalls, a small lantern in his hand. ‘Haven’t seen Merrimac this evening,’ he said, hanging the soft glowing light from a hook on one of the posts. ‘Is there something I might do for you? I think I can still find my way about the stable if there’s something you’re needing.’ He grinned at her, as she looked behind him to see if Imzi might also be there.

‘She’s getting settled in the Inn for the night. Under the watchful eye of Cook.’ He nodded back over his shoulder toward his old quarters. ‘I’m just displacing a small family of field mice from my mattress at the moment. Thought I’d see to getting the room habitable at least for the night.’

Derufin looked expectantly at her. ‘What can I help you with?’ he asked again.

His gaze was drawn, then, just beyond Aman's shoulder as someone approached and spoke to her.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"He arrives later sometimes - honestly, you just can't get the staff nowadays!" Aman rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then smiled back at Derufin, cocking her head to one side. "Still determined to stay the night in the stables, hmm, Derufin?" She grinned and opened her mouth to continue before the clatter of hooves alerted her.

Hearing another horse arrive outside, she turned around and slipped out of the stables through the crack between the doors in time to see a rider dismount. Aman couldn't see her face immediately, but as she tossed her head, the Innkeeper noted the pointed ears and oddly ageless face - and strangely familiar that face was as well.

"I was here earlier and was wondering if you had a room I could rent for the night." The elf got straight to business and Aman snapped her fingers in recognition.

"Ah! 'Thought I knew your face - sorry, miss, your name evades me though. As for a room - I shall see what we can sort out. I presume you would like a stable for your horse as well?" The rush of questions and statements allowed the elf little time to reply and she simply nodded at first. The Innkeeper flashed her a smile and held up a finger as she saw a small, familiar figure arrive from the shadows of the courtyard. "Please - give me one moment please, miss." Turning to the new figure she put her hands on her hips as she walked hastily over to him. "Merimac!" She addressed the newly arrived figure this time, not the elf.

A handsome hobbit face topped with a mop of dark curly hair grinned up at her from chest height "Ah, Miz Aman - just as well, too: and here was me thinking I was hearing voices from around that corner..although very lovely voices, of course." The hobbit stable hand gave a cheeky wink and clicked his tongue.

Aman grinned back at him, rolling her eyes. "Just as well for me as well - here was I, thinking I had dreamed that I ever had found a new stable hand, bearing in mind this one had mysteriously vanished..." She stuck her tongue out at Merimac and he returned the gesture, thumbing his nose for good measure. The Innkeeper laughed and inclined her head behind her to the elf and her horse. "There are two horses out here, one with a new customer and the other tied up one of the rings on the left wall - got free stalls?"

"Aye, of course - although we are filling up rather fast tonight. At this rate I'll be bunking the fine steeds of Gondor, Rohan, Lorien and all the fine lands in the rafters by midnight..." Merimac grumbled light heartedly, stepping forward and wiping his hands on a ragged cloth produced from his pocket as he smiled at the elf and her horse, the former looking up from the latter as the Innkeeper returned. Merimac briefly shook hands with the elf and bade her good evening, and took hold of her horse's reigns, reaching up to rest a hand upon it's nose to let it get used to his smell. Nodding politely to both Aman and the elf, he disappeared back into the stable building, the horse dwarfing him but still following obediently. Aman poked her head back into the stable building and smiled apologetically at Derufin. Give me a few minutes, Derufin? she mouthed. The man nodded, smiling faintly, and ushered her back outside.

Turning once more, the Innkeeper smiled brightly at the new elf. "Right - a room you say? If you would follow me then..."

[starkat]

“Hennaid. I greatly appreciate this. My name is Gwenneth.” As she prepared to follow the innkeeper out of the stables, Gwenneth looked back at her horse with a smile. The elf maid turned quickly when she heard the sound of the stable door opening and followed Aman into the inn.

Aman gave Gwenneth a room key and then left to talk with a patron. Alone, the elf maid looked for a seat and spotted an empty table. She walked over and removed her cloak. As she removed her cloak a richly coloured dress was revealed. It was deep blue with silver trim. Gwenneth sat down and asked for a glass of water.

[nynnd1]

Bredan was looking around the Inn, he was not looking for anything in particular, or anyone, but then there was no body looking for him, or was there. Bredan knew that there was always a chance of somebody coming from Gondor to try and look for him, Iolet’s husband looking for revenge on Bredan, they all knew of his fascination of Hobbit’s and the Shire. Bredan could feel the expression on his face, a worried look, not so much for fear of the danger to himself, he did not want any danger to come to the Land he was in, he would be ashamed if his blood was spilt on the Shire and stained the grass. Bredan then thought what would happen if Iolet herself would come and live with Bredan, but there was next to no chance of that, Bredan had always known in his heart that she would not live her husband. Bredan took the ring and looked at it for a while, although he knew that him and Iolet were finished for good, the ring always gave him memory of his happiest times, though his days in the Shire looked promising, if he could get back the stuff that the wildmen had stole.

Bredan then saw Lady Aman walk in, being followed by an Elf maid, Bredan finished his drink as the maid was bought over a glass of water, he ordered a tea and walked over to her table where she was sitting alone, looking round the Inn, just had Bredan had done before.

“You are only drinking water Lady Elf, may I recommend the Tea, it is the best I have had in all of Middle Earth.” Bredan extended a hand and gave a smile.

“Bredan of Gondor.” Bredan gave a small bow, he did not know why, there was something about the Maid that gave Bredan the feeling that she was of noble status, perhaps it was her elfish sparkling eyes that seemed to pierce right through to your soul or her beautiful dress of deep blue and silver trim.

[starkat]

With a soft smile, Gwenneth looked up at man from Gondor. She shook his hand and gestured for him to take a seat. “I usually don’t drink much besides water. Since you recommend it so highly, I will give it a try.” The next time the server walked past, Gwenneth ordered a glass of tea.

She swept some loose strands of black hair behind her ears. “Forgive me for not introducing my self. My name is Gwenneth.” The elf woman fiddled with a small, blue, jewel hung on a gold chain around her neck. “Tell me about Gondor, please. I have not been there yet.”

Brendan was momentarily delayed as Gwenneth’s tea was delivered. She took a sip of the tea and smiled. “This is good tea. Thank you for your recommendation. I am sorry about the interruption, please go on.”

[Umwë]

Tom hummed and looked down in the wooden table. Anja acted very nervous to him and Tom didn’t know what to say, instead he ordered another ale and looked down in the wooden table. As Anja didn’t come up with any clear answer where she came from made him quite perplex, he actually didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat to comment the ale, but he decided to not do that. He started to feel tired and he layed back in his chair. His curly, long fringe tickled him in his eyes and he frequently rubbed his eyes or tried to puff it away. He gasped, but remembered that he had company now and forgot to put an hand to cover his mouth. He found that quite embarrassing and blushed. Anja looked up and smiled but then looked down at her hands again. Tom noticed she barely had any nails left and the she actually bled on one of her fingers, caused of all her picking.

He stretched out his arms and gasped again. He finished of his ale and thought That’s it for tonight, and rose up and took his mantle that he had put on his back of his chair. He bowed deeply to the two ladies and said with a soft voice; “Thank you for tonight, but it’s getting late, and I’d better find myself a room for the night, I don’t think my legs will carry me the way home, I am too tired.” He bowed again and pulled his mantle around him and walked to over to Aman that stood by the counter talking to an elf. He waited for his turn and fell into his thoughts. His gaze was fixed on Aman as he stood thinking of what he should do tomorrow, he actually didn’t have any plans. But he didn’t care very much, he just enjoyed days when didn’t have to think of important things he had to do. He began to smile as he thought about it. Then he came back to reality and noticed that he stared at Aman. He blushed and looked down and awaited his turn.

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is: Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, the Stablemaster (played by Envinyatar)

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

_____________________________________________

Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About Elves in the Shire:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for crafting your Elven character’s appearance.