The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

We had reached the limit of pages for the last incarnation of the Inn - Part 10 (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=10341&page=10).

Welcome to the Green Dragon Inn Part 11! Carry on, Shirelings!

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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.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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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.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
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IT IS NOW VERY LATE EVENING. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

THE PARTY CELEBRATING THE REBUILDING OF THE INN IS IN FULL SWING - PLENTY OF FOOD, DRINK, MUSIC, DANCING!

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis looked around, trying to spot Ravon. He had just left for a moment, and when he looked back, she wasn't where they had been sitting. He scanned the room. Oh! There she is! Lewis saw Ravon. She was on the dance floor, motioning for him to come out.

"Care for a dance?" Ravon asked. Lewis smiled. "I'm not too sure how great of a dancer I am. Being the son of a blacksmith and all." Ravon smiled big. "Well come on, lets' find out!"

Before Lewis could do anything, he was pulled into the dance and had gotten right into it. It didn't matter to him what he danced like anymore. He was too busy getting lost in Ravon's beautiful eyes and entrancing smile.

[Firefoot]

When Daisy and Lily returned from the stable Lily was amazed at how much the party had picked up. When she had left there had been several people listening to their music, though few had been dancing. Now there were quite a few people out on the dance floor, and many that weren't dancing were clapping their hands or tapping their feet in time to the music.

Lily quickly picked up the song that Willow had started. She hadn't heard it before, but it was catchy and had a good beat. She immersed herself into playing, no longer worried about how Arrow was doing out in the barn. Her fingers flew over the strings, easily keeping time with the fast rhythm of the song. They played the song all the way through without a hitch, and at the end she heard some applause and even a few whistles.

Lily yawned. She couldn't believe how late it must be getting and everything that had happened that night. Just keep playing and you won't feel so tired, she told herself. Now what to play next? A song came to her mind, one that she hadn't played in quite a while but was so familiar that it was as if she had only just played it. It was a tune that was "as old as the hills", as her uncle would say, and was so well-known that she had heard countless versions of verses that went with it.

"How's this?" she asked, picking up her fiddle once more and striking up the song. Dimly she was aware of Willow and Mira joining in with their instruments, and Daisy's voice soaring over the music. This is great! I hope we get the chance to do this again some time was Lily's last thought before she was once again completely lost in the music.

[Gird]

Gird stumbled out of the bushes. He looked at his hand and realized that he was still holding the small blade that he had been using the past month, far more often than he would've liked. I wouldn't want anyone to see me with that. They might think I'm a savage. he thought, quite oblivious to his own physical appearance at the time.

Gird looked down the dirt road he had stumbled upon, and noticed a familiar, yet somehow different sight. The Green Dragon! he smiled, then frowned, But something seems different from the last time I was here. Gird looked closely at the inn. Ahh, I see! They've re-painted the sign! Contented with this answer, Gird walked on to the inn.

Gird walked in the inn. It sure is busy tonight, I wonder what's up? Gird puzzled. Ahh, there must be a special deal on the meal and drink tonight! Gird thought that the brew must be really good tonight, to have so many people singing and dancing, and the... Gird spotted something else that was amiss. They've scrubbed and polished the floors too! Must be someone's birthday. He shrugged it off.

And, to keep with the lively atmosphere, Gird started 'dancing' while he walked, by bobbing up and down occasionally in time to the music.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"Isaac, you just look like the warrior from Rohan that went missing so many years ago. Yet his name wasn't Isaac. Oh never mind. I sometimes let my memories get ahead of me." Adu didn't know now if Isaac could be one of her long lost friends or not. It was now a game of chance. Even now as she looked at him she could see her old friend. Nothing had even changed.

Could he actually be Jack? No, its not him. I never should have mentioned it to him. "Isaac just forget that I ever mentioned it." She knew now that if he was Jack he would have so many questions that she wouldn't be able to give an answer for. That was unless her friend had changed alot over the years.

[nynnd1]

Bredan walked back into the inn, he had had a quick rest and washed, he felt a lot better. He looked around and could not see anyone he recognised. A man was at the bar bobbing to the rhythm of the music. He was smiling, though from the look of him he did not have much to smile about, he looked like a savage.

‘Now you can’t go saying that Bredan, you didn’t look much better when you entered the inn’ he thought to himself.

He decided to walk up to the man, thinking he may be in the same dilemma Bredan himself was in, and what a dilemma that was. Though he had recognised the beauty of Lady Aman that still did not compare to Iolet, the love he had left in Gondor. He knew it was wrong to fall in love with a married woman, but acting upon that love was worse, but he had learnt. For the whole of the journey from Gondor to The Shire he had thought about it. Could he ever go back to Minas Tirith, that was something he had still to think about, but he was happy being away for the while, maybe Gusin, Iolet’s husband would forget, but Bredan doubted he would, what man could forget, or forgive such an act.

“I am Bredan, would you mind if I join you in a drink, I am new to this place.”

He realised that he sounded quite odd, but drinking with company is always better than drinking alone.

‘Anyway, he may be able to give some information on this place’ Bredan thought. Just then Bredan’s eyes caught sight of Snaveling.

“And some people” Bredan muttered under his breath so nobody else could hear, his eyes still fixed on Snaveling, before he realised and looked back to the smiling savage.

[Feared Half-Elf]

"I thought I recognised you from somewhere." She told Cree. "It's not your father I remember, though. I wasn't born in Eryn Lasgalen, I was born in a small forest far to the east. I moved to Eryn Lasgalen several years ago, and after a while got involved in the War of the Ring. But then, who didn't? I got called away to Gondor's aid, and since then I've been running between lands, seeing places I never thought I'd see, and making new friends from other cultures. Eryn Lasgalen is still my base and home, though. I just like to see the world. I pick up new things as I go, different weapons, and ways to use them. New herbs and their properties, that sort of thing. I'm a warrior at heart." She stretched, catlike. Not a delicate stretch like a high lady would execute, but a great yawn more like the warrior she was. She stood up, excusing herself to her companions. "If you'll excuse me, friends. It has been a busy night. I'll check on Arrow before I sleep. I hope I'll see you tomorrow." She inclined her head to them, and left.

She slipped out of the door, into the cool evening air, heading for the stables. Arrow still slept soundly, and Elkamia smiled at the silver dog, in the throes of another thrilling dream, by the look of him. She moved along the stalls, greeting Annufin, the silver mare she rode. She changed from her dress into her usual forest greens, drew a length of green fabric from her saddlebag, and bade her mare goodnight.

Stringing the fabric between two branches of a large tree, she settled down. The cool breeze stirred the branches. She preferred to sleep outside, though nobody could call her a trespasser on Inn land as she insisted on paying Aman for the use of her tree. A room was fine for a night or two, but when she spent a few weeks in one place, she definatly preferred the branches of a tree.

[Maeggaladiel]

Eleniel scratched Arrow behind his ears. There was nothing left for her to do but let the dog sleep. He snored on. Loudly.

She felt bad leaving him alone in the stables, but it was getting late. He was locked in a stall, and would probably sleep until tomorrow morning. She would check back in on him later, but now the excitement and fear had worn off, leaving dull hunger in her belly and exhaustion everywhere else.

She stumbled back into the inn. Isaac, Cree, Adu and Elkamia were talking together. She nodded to them before going to the bar and ordering a drink and something to eat.

Two people sat at the bar, both males. One seemed to be rocking in time to the music.

"Good evening, sirs," she said with a smile.

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac watched Adu intently, he could see the emotion on her face. Her genuine concern that he was actually her long lost friend. He was confused, he wished he could remember his past, he wished he could remember her. All the wishing in the world wouldn't help him. "I'm truly sorry, Adu. I don't remember you." he said, his voice full of sorrow.

He was about to continue when a jumble of images ran through his mind. Fragments of his memories. He could only decipher one of them. His minds eye caught a glimpse of it. He saw himself standing beside a large tree. Obviously a dense forest was the setting of his memory. Beside him he saw Adu. They were smiling happily at each other. As quickly as the memories had came, they left him sitting with a perplexed look on his face. "Adu, I don't know if I am this Jack you speak of or not, but did the two of you ever visit a forest with each other? I don't know what you were doing, looked kind of important though..." Isaac said, his voice trailed off as he found himself staring at her...

[Dragon Elf odin Ragnorock]

Aildwen walks in the door and sees everyone talking, eating, and dancing to the music. Aildwen walks over to the bar and sits down:

“What can I get you?” said the bar tender
“ Well I will just have an Ale if you don’t mind.”
“Well I will have Ruby bring it over to you.” Says the bar tender in a happy voice.”
“Thanks I will be sitting in the corner.”

Aildwen walks over to the table and takes off his cloak and puts his sword and knives by the table and takes off his gloves. For a couple of minutes he sits and listens to the music and watches the other people talking. He signals to Aman and askes her for a room.
“Sure, but it will cost you 20 Silver peaces a day.”
“Fine, and Thank you.”

[Kitanna]

"Well Aldor," Peony said, covering her mouth as she yawned, "It's been a long day and I am ready for bed. I enjoyed this time spent with and I hope to see you tomorrow morning so we can talk some more." Peony looked around, the party was still going. but it was far too late for her.

"Good night Aldor." Peony gave Aldor a friendly hug and headed to her room. Deva was already asleep and snoring loudly.

She sat on the bed and removed her shoes. Deva turned over and grumbled something in his sleep. His eyes opened slowly and he saw Peony getting under the covers on her bed. "You're awfully late." He joked.

Peony threw a pillow at him. "Hush you! Go back to bed!" She laughed and laid down in her bed. She drifted into a deep sleep.

[Gird]

Gird went on bobbing for a while until he was unexpectedly approached by another man. “I am Bredan, would you mind if I join you in a drink, I am new to this place.”

"Huh? Oh, me? Why of course?" Gird managed to get out. He then flashed a toothy grin, remembering his manners. "Bartender! Oh, Miss Aman I mean. I would like a warm milk, and this young man will have.. an ale, sir?"

"Oh, yes thank you" came the man's reply.

"And to pay.." Gird started. He then pulled out a small gold statue of an eagle from under his cloak. Well, this will be too much certainly. He thought. So Gird promptly smashed the statue on the counter, breaking off it's wing. "There we are." he mused with a grin. he picked up the wing and then lay the bigger part on the counter as payment. He then turned to the man."Very nice establishment, eh?" The man didn't have time to answer, when someone else came up to them.

"Good evening, sirs," the newcomer said with a smile.

"Oh! Hello!" said Gird with a smile. "Come on, take a seat. Would you like a drink?"

"No thank you, I just ordered"

"Fair enough," Gird started. "But may I be so bold as to ask both of your names? It wouldn't do at all for me to call you two 'male' and 'female' all night long. And you can call me Gird"

Gird reached forth both of his grubby hands, never one to forget his manners.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled faintly, shaking herself out of her revere, as Lily started up the nexy song. It was lovely to be up there, standing on the tables, with friends, though in truth, she hardly knew the two other hobbits.

She was faintly aware that there were more people reacting to their music, and that the other girls were doing much better. They all were, as the time grew later.

Willow yawned. It was growing later, obviously, and the fact threw her slightly off tempo, though she knew the song well, all the verses, and three versions of the tune too. But night was falling-- growing later, and that in itself would take it's toll on her, if she had to continue too much longer. She only hoped that she could stay awake long enough to finish a few more tunes.

She noticed Lily yawning too, and realized that the others were probably as tired as her.

The song drew closer to its end, and Willow figured that it might be smart to take a few slower songs now that the day was drawing ever nearer to it's inevitable conclusion. There was no way to escape the blackness of night.

But in the meantime, they played their fiddles, and flutes, and sang as if night would never completely fall.

The song ended, wherein Willow allowed herself a long yawn before suggesting another song. "It's a slower song, but well known. I think it'll fit," she said, smiling tiredly. It had been a long day.

[piosenniel]

Buttercup came down the stairs to the kitchen, her shawl pulled tight about her shoulders. The morning air was chilly, and she could not wait to get into the warmth of the kitchen. Ruby was already up; she had started a small fire in the cooking grate and hung the kettle over it to boil.

While Buttercup made a pot of tea for the two of them, Ruby got out the basket of fresh eggs from the chicken coop and set out the ham from the pantry on the cutting board to be sliced. Tea warming their bellies as they worked, the two Hobbits began slicing the morning’s loaves for toast, and heating up the great cast iron skillets for frying the thick ham slices and the scrambled eggs.

Two of the Inn’s early morning servers had come in, and Buttercup handed them the trays filled with pots of jam and honey, the crocks of sweet cream butter, and the salt and pepper mills. They went into the common room and set the tables with them, then brought out the eating utensils in a large basket and began setting the tables for breakfast.

Soon the Common Room was filled with the scent of a sturdy Shire breakfast. The enticing smells of crisped ham and fresh toast wafted from the kitchen and up the stairs to the guests’ rooms. And soon the sounds of boots, shoes, and bare feet came trudging down the steps, their owners following their noses to the food.

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Please note: It is now morning time in the Inn and breakfast is being served.

The party is over and the tired staff of the Inn would appreciate any who might want to grab a broom, a mop to clean the floors; move the tables and benches back where they belong, take down the decorations, whatever you can ‘see’ that needs to be done.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[bilbo_baggins]

Ponto didn't remember going to sleep the night before, but that was probably because he had drunk too much ale.

Some of the other Party-goers were up and about, helping to clean the enormous mess everyone had made the night before. He knew he should probably help them, so he came out into the Common Room.

It was littered with ale mugs, party decor, and scattered tables and chairs. He set a chair upright, and began to help clean up the mess.

Sweeping up some of the spilt ale and righting some of the chairs, Ponto came across a hastily scrawled message on one of the tables.

"Look to it in the morning....[something undecipherable]... take care... once and for all..... the long sleep."

"Very sinister," Ponto muttered to himself, "What can it mean?"

[Galadel Vinorel]

The soft sound of a gentle flute was heard floating through the empty grounds of the Green Dragonn Inn in the early morning hours. It was a very peaceful sound and calmed everyone who heard it as it traveled like a gentle breeze through windows and open doors all over the area. Those who were awake became very happy, tilting up their heads every so slightly to try to hear the music more clearly as they wondered where it came from, yet it remained an eluisive, soft melody, as if the music itself were the incarnation of that wonderful time and state of mind that exists between sleeping and waking; that peaceful time that all people love. And those who were sleeping suddenly began to dream of far off and mysterious lands through which they constantly heard the gentle meldoy. Their dreams were filled with golden-leafed trees, with some of the leaves delicately falling off ever so often to glide gently through the air and rest upon the smooth flowing stream below. Places in Middle Earth that they had never seen or had never even known existed before then filled their dreaming minds, leaving with them a peace that would last through the hours to come, even after they had awaken.

And there, in the midst of it all, leaned Galadel against one of the outside walls of the inn, her hands wrapped gently around her wooden flute, from which the peaceful music was flowing out off. She was wearing her worn traveling clothes, her dirt-stained cloak thrown over this to keep away the soft morning breeze that threatened to chill her. Her hood was pulled far over her face, so that all that could been seen of her was her mouth, blowing through the flute, as her fingers moved up and down on it, to make the sweet noise that was flowing through the air.

A few minutes passed by, and then a half an hour. The end of her piece drew near. Some folks must be awake by now, she thought to herself, I will see if they need some help. The melody that the elf had played was over then, and so she dropped the flute slowly away from her mouth, her hands falling to her sides like the final flap of a bird's wing as it reaches the ground from its long flight home. Placing her flute careful back into the pouch that hung at her side, Galadel stood up straight, raising her face up slightly to see the rising sun. As she did this the hood of her cloak fell off her head to rest upon her shoulders, and her face was shown, the shining, crystal blue eyes looking out at the garden around her, her lips forming a gentle smile, her golden hair falling from her head down her flowing shoulders.

Walking around to the entrance of the inn the elf entered the building. She was confronted with a rather messy hall where the previous night's celebrations had been. That night seemed to the elf to have only been a few minutes ago. She almost expected to see the four young hobbit lasses to come running in and hop onto some tables to dance and sing once again or for Snaveling to enter into the room with Aman at his side, his face once more alight with some deep, inner fire that was mainly left locked up in his soul, though he let it out occassionaly, a suprise to all. Yet, they were not there, only a few people were in the quiet room, cleaning and righting tables and chairs. Smiling to herself, Galadel grabbed a broom that was resting, unattended, against the wall beside her and began to join the others in cleaning the common room, as she thought over the events of the night before. And so the sun rose over Bywater, and the life within the town and the Green Dragon Inn awoke slowly to greet the new day.

[Maeggaladiel]

Eleniel took Gird's hand and shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Gird," she said. "My name is Eleniel of Laketown. What brings you to the Green Dragon?" She turned to the other gentleman.

"And may I inquire as to your name, good sir?" she asked him.

Waiting for his reply, Eleniel looked around her. It was morning already. She had spent the entire night in the stables with her wounded dog, but strangely, she did not feel like sleeping. Probably on account of the coffee that she was drinking. She raised her mug in a silent salute to the rising sun and drank.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling awoke to the sound of an oliphaunt stamping the side of the stables. Prying open his eyes a crack he was assaulted by the violence of sunlight and he once again forced them shut. But the stamping of the oliphaunt was more than he could bear and as having his eyes open seemed, somehow, to quieten the beast he once again forced apart his lids. It wasn’t so bad this time, and the roaring – which he now realised was inside his head and not outside the stables – quieted some. He stood, tentatively, for the stables were spinning slightly, although they were no longer doing the pirouettes that they had last night. The Man steadied himself against the side of his stall and held a hand to his head. It had been a long time since he’d been hungover and he was beginning to remember why.

At his feet, Tobias snored like a donkey and for the hobbit’s sake, Snaveling hoped that he would sleep a bit longer. Snaveling thought back to the evening and managed to reconstruct how he and his friend had made it to the stables. There had apparently been a thick fog of some kind that had made finding their way through the yard very difficult, and then the lantern had not worked very well, for they had tried three separate stalls before finding Snaveling’s, disturbing a number of irate horses in the process.

There was the gentle sound of a flute from outside and Snaveling recognised it immediately as the music of Galadel. The tune did much for the pounding in his mind, but there are limits even to Elvish magic, and the amount of alcohol that Snaveling had consumed last night had taken him well beyond that limit. He dunked his head into a bucket of ice-cold water and came up spluttering: this did even more to clear his mind. As he got dressed his mind wandered back to one of the last things that he could remember clearly from the night before. There had been that strange Gondorian who had spent a deal of time staring at Snaveling from the bar, and whispering with another disturbing looking Man. Snaveling fingered the amulet about his neck and slipped it beneath his clothes. That amulet had brought him enough grief last night.

He left Toby snoring in the straw and moved toward the Inn to find some breakfast. His mind turned back to what had occurred last night but it was still a mystery to him. He gathered now that somewhere in his ancestry there was a figure of great power and renown, but that this person was, for some reason, disliked and even feared by his companions. Primarily, he admitted with trepidation, by Roa herself. He had been reluctant to ask more as he feared what he might find, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to determine who his ancestor had been…and what that meant for him.

The Common Room was in a state of shambles, but already the Inn staff was up and about laying on breakfast and making a few stabs at cleaning up. The smell of bacon came from the kitchen, but it turned Snaveling’s still whirling stomach. Galadel was, of all things, sweeping the floor as he entered but she paused and smiled at him. “Good morning, Snaveling,” she said brightly, but still there remained the faint shadow that had come over them both last night.

Snaveling mumbled a greeting. “It is morning, my Lady, but I’m not so sure it’s a good one. My head and my stomach are not happy with what I did to them last night. I don’t suppose you have one of your rare Elvish medicines for my ailment?”

Galadel laughed and replied, “Aye, that I do, but for some ills I find that the best I can do for the patient is to let him suffer the consequences himself.”

Snaveling managed a pale smile at this. “Fair enough,” he said. “As I do not want any breakfast, and the best thing for me would be to get my blood moving, give me that broom so that I might sweep the floors – such work is not right for you my Lady. Nay, if you insist on doing something, I’m sure Aman would appreciate having some of these glasses cleared away.” He paused for a moment as Galadel passed him the broom. “And as we work together my Lady, perhaps you could explain just a bit more clearly what happened here last night. I think that my life’s story is connected in some way to matters far beyond my ken…”

[Firefoot]

Lily awoke to sunshine streaming through the window and the smell of eggs and toast wafting up through the floorboards. The final song they had performed last night was still playing itself through her mind. Mmm, breakfast, she thought. Lily felt like she was starving and realized how little she had eaten last night. She hurriedly got ready and went downstairs.

Though it was still early there were already several people downstairs, some of them helping themselves to a delicious breakfast and some helping the staff to clean up from last night's party. Lily opted to join the former group. She got a hearty breakfast of eggs, ham, and tea and dug in. The food was delicious. As she ate, she observed the other people who were in the Common Room. She saw the Elf who had played her flute with them last night for a bit - Now what was her name again? Lily wondered - talking to a Man she vaguely recognized from last night. She wasn't sure who anyone else was.

When Lily had finished her breakfast she looked around for a way to help out in cleaning up. She noted all the tables and chairs gone askew and decided to start there. She pushed some chairs back to where they belonged by the tables and righted a table that had been pushed over. It didn't look like such a mess when I went upstairs last night. But now the place looks absolutely filthy! thought Lily. I suppose there's nothing for it. These mugs need to go back to the kitchen, I suppose. She picked up the stray mugs on a table and carried them into the kitchen. The Hobbit maid smiled her thanks and said, "Those can go over there." Lily did as directed and wandered out into the Common Room, this time picking up a broom to begin sweeping. As she swept, she found herself humming a tune from last night.

Home is behind, the world ahead.
And there are many pathes to tread.
Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,
All shall fade, all shadows fade

[Eowyn Skywalker]

The sunlight streamed itself through the window, and highlighted the still sleeping hobbit's face. Birds chirped merrily as the bright sunlight illuminated the area. "Hmm..." Willow groaned slightly in her sleep, and, rubbing her eyes, tried to sit up. "Is it morning already?" she asked to the air, and continued to rub the sleep from her eyes.

Yawning, she pulled herself out of bed, and stood to look in the mirror. Her tired reflection looked back at her, rumpled and messy from the night before. She had been so tired after the last song that she had collapsed into bed, still in her dress from the day before.

The sounds of morning worked their way though the wooden cracks in the door, bringing her back to the present, and to the fact that, indeed, it was morning, and time for her to arise.

Her hair was a mess, as was normal to those who slept without removing the ribbons that she used to hold her curly brown hair back with. She knelt beside her bed, and pulled out her bags. She searched through them, and pulled out a comb. She removed the tangled mass of ribbons, and let loose her long hair.

Willow pulled the comb through, not bothering with neatness, just trying to get her hair out of the way, as it was morning, and she didn't fancy missing breakfast. A few minutes later, she had her hair pulled back into a loose braid, most befitting of her simple clothing.

She pulled her party dress off, tossing it over her head, and exchanged it for a more simple work-dress and apron, as now was not the time, she felt to be wearing fancier clothing. She tossed it into her bag, and shoved it back under her bed, along with her fiddle, still sitting on the floor from the night before.

Now ready, Willow stepped out the door, to see what was going on.

[Kransha]

A slithering beam of sunlight, bearing down through the bare slivers between wooden planks in the stable managed to pry open Toby’s single eyelid. The hobbit’s opened lid plastered closed in an instant, snapping as a trap would on a mouse. Slowly, but with a sluggish and lackadaisical sureness, the two heavy bulbs opened up, revealing beneath their wrinkled cloak a pair of disillusioned grayish orbs, watery and flanked beneath by bags of tinted red that told a tale of weariness and woe. With painful velocity, the inner workings and gears of Toby Hornblower’s brain began working as his lost faculties returned reluctantly to him.

Last night was still floating around in the murky ocean of his befuddled mind. He remembered, only fleetingly, his giving of the eleven…or was it ten, gold pieces to Miss Aman as a gift. He tried vaguely to reminisce, but found his mental and physical vision blurred as he tried to get up and failed, crumbling like so much jelly into a quivering mass covered in hay. He thought back, piecing together the events like a shattered jigsaw puzzle. He remembered the unfortunate incident in which a canine belonging to some partygoer was injured rather grievously. There was a deal of fuss made over it, which Toby and Snaveling saw when the two of them, dead drunk and stumbling with a luminous green aura of negative splendor dripping from them, had headed towards the inn stables. There were other incidents of gossip-worthy remembrance, but none that could be formed as moving images in Toby’s head. The hobbit grimaced mentally as he remembered the amount of alcohol he’d imbibed during the lengthy and lavish gala event yesterday eve.

Gradually, Toby’s stupor evacuated somewhat. The hobbit pushed himself miserably up into a sitting position, shaking his head and watching clinging strands of hay fly off his dangling brown and gray hair. He managed to shove his weak, shoeless legs beneath him and use them like great pliers to extract himself from the tawny mess of material. Yawning deeply, he became aware of a resilient and frustratingly consistent drumbeat that seemed to hammer against his cranium. The hangover was apparent, as Tobias immediately regretted every ill-aimed drop of ale from the night’s festivities. The pounding echoed more firmly, amplified now that the Fallohide hobbit was awake. Toby, beginning to flail his arms frantically to steady his unsteady balance, Tobias managed to bumble onto his feet, sliding with what could not be called agility out of the straw pile he was in, and onto the more solid, dirt ground. A nearby horse’s gaze caught his, followed by a disapproving whinny which jarred Toby’s failing senses.

Snorting indignantly, Toby examined himself thoroughly, despite the pang resounding in thunderous succession in his head’s empty halls, however empty they were. He smelled a vile smile, which permeated the air just around him. A veiled odor was dripping off his rustic-colored waistcoat and his greasy, unclean hands with their rough patches of skin soaked in an adhesive sensation from the previous night. Toby shook his two appendages over the hay, picking string of gathered dirt from the narrow niche between his jagged nails and scraggly fingers. He began walking, exercising his legs and pulling them up and down at a jogging pace as he tried to ignore the hangover. As he passed the great piles of hay and varying stalls, more horses perked up and protested the hobbit’s presence, though this particular Halfling didn’t seem to care. Toby knew the smell that surrounded him like a haze of thick smog was contrbuted to by his garb. Having brought no clothing change to the Green Dragon Inn, Toby hadn't changed his rust-brown waistcoat, evergreen breeches, or gaudy, limegreen, sequined vest in weeks. That vest, which he prized, was now bleached by dirt, dust, soot, and other debris that was magnetically attracted to it. Toby scowled again as he headed forward doggedly.

Still at a developing pace, Toby emerged from the stable and stretched, a full yawn punching out of his mouth where at had been waiting, followed by a walloping burp that had waited all night to be emitted by the previously drunk Shire resident. Toby coughed, recovering his ragged breath and forcing the wriggling frog from his throat as he gazed up, with a merry, if not slightly discomposed look gleaming in his one clearer eye. The beams freshly bathed him, soaking his shadow silhouette and blazoning it against the dull brown of the wooden stable. Letting a smile flicker over his soured lips, Tobias Hornblower strolled jollily towards the inn itself, whistling a merry tune to himself, which carried on the cool wind.

Galadel and Snaveling where within, in the Common Room, which was in severe disarray. Everything was arranged villainously in the order it should not have been. Toby had an inner sense of aesthetics, and this made his already wrenching stomach jump for some reason. He knew he was just overreacting because of the needed energy he had to vent, since he normally didn’t care how a room looked. Toby nodded an acknowledging nod to the elf and man, who had dutifully busied themselves with helping the long and tiresome process of cleaning. Most people seemed to be assisting in some way, no matter how miniscule or unnoticed in its unimportance. Toby figured he might lend a helping hand as well…a little bit later, that is.

Toby wasted no time in losing sight of the goals he’d been set on the previous sight when an enticing smell grabbed him by the collar and hauled him towards the kitchen. Shortly, beneath the noses of the few folk who’d awakened, Toby had easily appropriated (all in legal right, of course) a fully splendiferous platter splotched with the dappled, sweet-scented morning goodness of steaming ham, waiting to be eaten as eagerly as the eater to eat it. Toby sat himself down ceremoniously and prepared to plunge right in.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne slipped one foot out of bed and then the other. She was singing cheerfully as she popped her dress over her head, snatched up her gardening apron and sheers, and prepared to race downstairs to eat some breakfast.

What an utterly gorgeous day! What made it particularly gorgeous was the fact that she had survived the party the night before without any serious mishap. Despite all the rumors to the contrary, she had seen nothing of Cook, the vaunted mistress of the Inn's kitchens, whom many had said was arriving from the west and would give Hawthorne a serious going over.

The doomsayers could talk all they wanted! Hawthorne had enoyed her visit with Uncle Merry. She had danced a bit, sung a bit, and eaten an enormous array of food. She had chatted about the news from Brandybuck Hall, and made several new friends. Altogether, it had been a most pleasurable evening. Even the habitual grumpiness of Ruby and Buttercup towards her had not been enough to spoil her good time.

Hawthorne plunged heedlessly into the Common Room, offering a hearty greeting to the barely recovered Toby who was seemingly trying to drown out the memory of the night before with several ample slices of crisped ham. Hawthorne decided she would finish breakfast and then help tidy up the outside flower beds on which more than one pair of feet had trampled the evening before. After that, she would make her way down to the Water, and return with a string of fresh fish for the kitchen. That evening she hoped to go visit Master Hardhammer who had temporarily taken up residence in the neighborhood of Hobbiton; Regin was performing odd jobs involving metalwork or masonry for which he was generously rewarded by the inhabitants of the Shire who were only too happy to have their burrows improved. Perhaps she could persuade him to make her a little trinket to send back home to her sister.

With a heart more cheerful than she had known in weeks, Mistress Brandybuck sat down to a large breakfast of scrambled eggs and fresh toast....

[Kitanna]

The sunlight streamed into the window and rested on Peony's face. She pulled the covers over her head to block it out. Just a few more minutes of rest, she thought. She lay there eyes opening listening to the sounds of the morning. It was so peaceful that she wished it would stay like this all day.

Then Deva's loud almost inhuman snore broke through the silence. That was enough to force Peony out of bed. She got dressed swiftly and headed downstairs. A few people were already in the common room, some eating, some helping clean up. Peony wasn't very hungry so she grabbed a broom and started to help clean up as well.

As she went along she set chairs straight and moved a table back to its proper place. All the while she was humming a merry little tune.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia woke with the dawn, as normal. In a practised movement, she unhooked one end of the hammock strung in the tree, then hung be her hands from the branch as she unhooked the other. The hammock fell to the ground, and she let go and followed it. She gathered up the hammock, and disappeared into the stables to store it in her saddlebag.

She stepped into the seemingly empty stall after storing her hammock, to visit Arrow. The dog was asleep, bu opened his eyes when she entered the stall. Kneeling by him, she checked the wound she had dressed the night before. It was healing well, but she refreshed the bandages and herb mix to keep it fairly clean. Feeling happier about him, she scratched his ears and left him to rest further.

Upon entering the common room, a mess met her. Several early risers were righting tables and sweeping the floor. Thinking for a moment, she began to take down the posies of flowers that adorned the walls. They'd been fresh the night before, but the pretty blooms that had been used were not known for their long life after cutting. They were droopy, and had begun to look rather ugly inside the Inn. She dug them into some dead leaves outside. She returned to the common room, and grabbed a table to right it and place it back on it's legs.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
It was the next day and Adu had been thinking all night about what Isaac had to say. She walked down to the main room of the inn and saw that Isaac was already there. Adu figured it would be the best time to talk to him about last night. But she didn`t know whether or not to tell him about the forest. She knew that Isaac had a new life now and she didn`t want to jeopardize it. “Isaac, about last night... Well there was never a forest.“ I`m sorry Isaac I can`t tell you the truth. There was a forest. It was on our journey home that we fell into the forest of Lothlorien. But I can`t tell you that. If I did it would only make everything worse. I have my Hama to look after now. That was so long ago. I moved on since then.

Adu pulled a smile to her face and looked around to see if she could find some type of herb to rid her of her headache. Why couldn`t she tell him.

[Galadel Vinorel]

"Last night," said Galadel softly. She seemed to be talking to herself rather than to Snaveling, for she was not looking at him, rather her crystal clear eyes were staring within one of the glasses that she held, which was still half filled with wine. The elf thought back to the events of the night before, trying to make some sense of their events that were jumbled up within her troubled mind.

"Last night there was a party," spoke Galadel, totally absorbed in remembering, "Yes, a party in which I played my flute and you sang. You sang, Snaveling. Yes, now I remember that. It seems like only hours ago, yet at the same time, years ago." She turned, bringing her sorrowful eyes to meet with Snaveling's suprised ones. Her eyes were glazed over, as if she were not really there, but somewhere else entirely, some place that was lost within her memory. Yet she was there. "And you spilled the ale, and talked to Aman. You asked forgiveness from her, yes you did. You recieved a new pair of clothes, payed for by the money that you borrowed from Tobias. And Roa saw the amulet. The amulet ." At this Galadel looked deeper into Snaveling's eyes, hers not glazed any longer. "The amulet," she whispered to herself, and then turned away from the man to begin working once again.

For a moment Snaveling remained stunned and very suprised, starring confused at the back of the Elven maiden. Then he spoke, "My lady, you have yet to answer my question."

Sighing, Galadel turned back to him and said, "Must you know, my friend?"

Snaveling was a little taken aback by the word that she used for him, but he did not let that deter him from his want to know the truth. "Yes, Galadel, I really doneed to know."

The maiden could hear the strain in his voice, and sighed once more. "Very well, Snaveling," she said, putting down the cups thta seh held in her hands, "I will tell you a story, one that I have known all of my life, one of the lost land of Numenor." And so the elf began, telling the history of the peaceful land, of the Lords and Ladys that had onced ruled it. She told him about their lives and deaths, wonderful stories, heroic storied, love stories, and tearful ones. And then she told him about its destruction, about Sauron the deceiver, and the King of Numenor's betrayel. How long she talked neither of them know, for both were caught up withing the history of Numenor.

"I remember the beauty of that land," she said after she had told him the land's entire history, "It was filled with trees, gorgeous, tall trees that filled that land. There were items made there, jewels forged, tables and other wooden items carved wtih flowers, birds, and elven characters, that were so beautiful that you would cry when you beheld them. Some of the greatest makers that ever lived worked on that land. I remember the harbors the most, though. I saw some of the largest and most beautiful ships there. I never even knew until then that ships could be so beautiful, except for the ones that came from Valinor."

Seeing Snaveling's startled face, Galadel laughed. "You are wondering now how I could have seen Numenor, the land that was lost so long ago, aren't you, Snaveling?" she said, smiling as the man of the South nodded slowly, "How old do you think I am?"

"Um...Around your late 20's or so. At least, that is how you look, my lady, though I do know that elves never look their real age," he replied.

"No, we never do," replied the maiden softly, and then she went on, "I am not in my 20's at all. I have been alive for a long time, but for how long I will not say. That is my own little secret." Galadel winked at Snaveling, grinning, and then returned to cleaning off the cups off the tables, as teh man thought over all that she had just told to him.

[Archsage Isaac]

“Isaac, about last night... Well there was never a forest.“ Adu told Isaac as he slowly took a sip of the coffee in his mug. He was confused. That image was so real, he could smell the forest air. He swallowed the coffee in his mouth and looked at her.

"The look on your face tells me otherwise, Adu. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe that was just some fabricated image that I thought was real. I do know, however, that this 'Jack' felt something for you, something....special." he said, remembering that image and how it felt. Again he took a slow sip of coffee and found himself once again lost in his own memories.

[nynnd1]

“I am Bredan from Gondor, and I am here,” Bredan thought of what he was going to say now, he couldn’t be bothered to lie.

“I am here because I am running away.” The pair seemed shocked of his reason.

“Do not worry, I have not broken law or anything, I am running for my own protection.”

He felt the weight lift from his body and soul, talking about it was the best way to get over the problem, but then again his weary non trusting self came back into his mind. I do not know either of these people, they could be hunting me down, in which case I am no longer safe in the Shire and have to escape, and blood would probably have to be spilled to escape, he hoped that they were not there to get him. He did not recognise either of them, but that did not help the paranoia of Bredan. He had always been weary, a loner, not trusting anyone to get to close to him, apart from Iolet, but that all ended in tragedy.

“And what brings you two to this pleasant land?” he said trying to learn more of them.

Bredan saw from the corner of his eyes lady Aman cleaning up and being busy, it amazed Bredan how she still looked so good. He knew that people would see him staring but could not tear himself away form the lovely lady. There was then a rumbling sound that came from his stomach, his thought soon changed to his stomach, he had not eaten for days and was really starting to feel it.

“Would you like to carry on this conversation over breakfast, for I am so hungry I could eat,” he thought for the right thing to say.

“I could eat my shoes”, it seemed to fit well enough.

[Maeggaladiel]

Eleniel blinked in suprise. This Brendan was running from something. What? she wondered. Regaining composure, she smiled and shook his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Brendan," she said. "I am here on business. I am a merchant, and I travel Middle Earth to gather merchandise from foriegn artisans to sell." She reached down to scratch her dog's ears, but remembered that the beast was in the stables.

"Excuse me," she said with an embarrased laugh. "I usually am accompanied by a dog named Arrow, but he is in the stables at the moment. I guess I'm used to having him around. He was hit by a carriage yesterday evening, and he is being healed by that woman over there." She nodded towards the elven woman Elkamia, talking with a group of friends.

"But what of you, Master Gird? What brings you here?"

[Gird]

"Hmm? Oh, of course. What brings me here..." Gird said in reply. He had been quiet for a while, just taking everything that was said in. "Well, as for myself, I go around all over middle earth, pittering here and there. I just came here because I knew it was a good inn." Gird gave a friendly smile and then yawned big. He had been up all night, but he wasn't going to let it make him into poor company. He scanned his short term memory for something that was said that would make conversation.

"So Eleniel, you said you were from Laketown? I am originally from Esgaroth myself, long ago!" Gird was delighted to meet someone from his homeland, as it had been a while. "Who was your father?" Gird asked.

"I might just know him."

[Maeggaladiel]

A large smile spread across Eleniel's face.

"So," she said. "You too come from Esgaroth! Small world, hmm?" It was strangely comforting to find someone from home in this distant land, even though she enjoyed traveling and meeting new people.

"My father was named Vahn, but he was called Raven or Crow by many, because of his dark hair. Also because he spent a lot of time hunting for trinkets to sell, like a raven hunting shiny objects for his nest." she said with a laugh. "He owned a shop called 'The Raven's Nest,' if that rings any bells."

She leaned forward in her chair, excitedly waiting to see if this gentleman knew of her father.

[Amanaduial the archer]

A curtain of hair fell across Aman's face as she leant over, wiping at an ale stain on one of the weary tables, and she brushed it back quickly behind one ear. As she did so, a figure caught her eye and she turned to look over at it. Aman...Bredan, the Gondorian man who had stayed at the Inn for a few nights now. He was staring at her, a small smile on his face. She was not sure she was entirely comfortable with the way his eyes lingered on her...

However, she was Innkeeper, as ever, and he as yet had no drink. Approaching, the slipped the rag through one apron string and brushed back her hair - having washed it this morning, having gone too bed very early this morning, it seemed determined to show off it's fresh silkiness. Looking up as she reached for a pen and pad from her skirts, she smiled at Bredan warmly, regardless of her unease at his persistent gaze. "Bredan, good morning."

The man beamed widely, his eyes finding hers now. "You remembered..." he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, my Lady - how can I help you?"

The question surprised the Innkeeper and she laughed. "How can you help me? Sir, I believe the situation should be the other way around."

"Call me Bredan, please." The Gondorian's voice was smooth, charming. Aman glanced at his face, then his belt - but the sheath was empty, and he did not seem to be an early morning drunk.

"Nonetheless, Bredan," she grinned back. "Will you have some breakfast?"

[starkat]

Riding up to the stables, a young women cloaked in grey and wearing dark blue and dark green, dismounts from her horse. Leaving her horse at the stables, she heads over to the inn. Stepping into the main room and removing her hood, Gwenneth looks around the room. Tall, slender, and with long black hair, the elf maid looks around for the innkeeper.

Being uncertain of where to look, Gwenneth sees an empty table near a wall. Heading over to the table she smiles at the others in the room.

[Firefoot]

Lily, though she would be embarrased to admit it to any but herself, was getting bored of cleaning up. She also felt somewhat stifled for having been indoors for so long except for her brief sojourn out to the stables last night. She decided to go for a ride. After all, that is what I came to the Shire for in the first place, right? To explore new places? she thought. I don't really know anyone in here right now anyway. She leaned the broom she was using back up against the wall and headed for the door.

Once outside, Lily broke into a jog and then a run. It felt so good to stretch her legs! She couldn't see anyone nearby, and even so she really didn't care what people would think if they saw her. It was only a short way to the stables, so Lily wasn't even winded. Many of the horses still looked drowsy, but her pony Clover stamped his foot impatiently as if to say, "What took you so long?" Lily pulled an apple out of her pocket to give him, which he munched happily.

"Just a short ride today. I'll be right back," Lily assured him. Now, where to find my saddle, she wondered. She wandered up the aisle, looking around for any sign of where her riding gear might be. Ah, there!, Lily realized with a smile. It was a small room with the door slightly ajar. Inside she could see some saddles. She slipped in and found her saddle and bridle easily enough, and walked back to Clover's stall. She saddled him up for the ride and led him outside. Lily mounted.

"Ready, boy?" Clover shook his head, eager to go. Lily urged him into a canter and pointed him at a low fence, and was gone, off to explore the Shire.

[Kitanna]

Peony hated the idea of wearing her hair tied back, but her red locks were constantly falling into her eyes. She quickly tied her hair back and picked up her broom again to finish her sweeping job.

In the corner of the room she notice an elf woman with long black hair sitting there who had not been there a minute ago. Peony laid the broom aside and headed over to the woman's table.

"Good morning stranger," Peony said. She was such a peppy morning person it was almost scary. "I did not see you here last night, did you just arrive?" Peony waiting for Gwenneth to answer.

[starkat]

Gwenneth smiled at Peony. "Mae govannen. Yes, I just arrived in town. I rode in this morning." Gesturing for Peony to sit, Gwenneth pulled her hair from her face and tied it back. "Who do I need to see about getting a room and stabling my horse, Elenath?"

Waving her hand around at the room she asked, "What went on last night? It looks like a party of some kind. Is there anything I can do to help?"

[Kitanna]

"A party indeed," Peony laughed. "A sort of re-opening party I guess. Some sort of fire destroyed the inn or something to that extent. As for checking in I think the innkeeper's name is Aman."

Peony looked around at all the things that still needed to be done. She'd eat first and then finish helping clean up. "Would you care to join me for breakfast, Miss..." Peony stopped, she did not know this elf's name. "May I inquire what your name is?"

[starkat]

“I hope no one was injured. Goheno nin, forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Gwenneth." Reaching around her neck, she fingers a small jewel on a chain. "May I ask what your name is and what is the name of this area?” Gwenneth smiles and again beckons for Peony to sit. “Please join me.”

“Could you point out the innkeeper after we finish?” Realizing how hungry she was, Gwenneth decided not to seek out the innkeeper until after breakfast.

[Kitanna]

Peony took a seat across from Gwenneth. "My name is Peony." She waved down one of the Hobbit lassies who worked in the kitchen. The two ordered and the Hobbit was off.

"Now, pardon me for not introducing myself sooner, my name is Peony. And if I may ask, Gwenneth where do you hail from?"

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

A young woman was walking up the road to the inn. Her cloak was a dusty gray, heavily patched and stained from past travels. Freckles were sprinkled across a hawkish nose; her rosebud mouth curved up at the corners with a mischievous air; seaweed colored eyes set deeply in the very pale face darted around, taking in every sight; kinky brown hair that would not be contained completed the picture, raveling down her back. In a few minutes, she stood in front of the doors to the inn, eyeing the emerald dragon painted on the wooden sign, which was swaying ever so slightly in the soft western breeze. After a moment, she had come to the decision that this inn was quite acceptable, and pushed open the doors. Instantly, smells of ale and hearty food drifted out, accompanied by the sounds of laughter, conversation, and the occasional argument.

Walking inside, the young woman plunked herself down on a wooden barstool, and spoke the words that many before her had uttered on that very spot: "Barkeep? I'll have a pint of your finest." As a sort of afterthought, she added, "And would you have some roast chicken?"

[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

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

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.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

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.

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

[piosenniel]

It is a lovely Spring morning in the Shire.

The time is midmorning and breakfast is still being served, as well as second breakfast.

[starkat]

Pausing to gather her thoughts, Gwenneth began, “I am, what I my family likes to call, a bit of a wanderer. I rarely stay in one place for very long and I love traveling. I haven’t been very far yet since I just began recently.” Pausing again Gwenneth hoped she was explaining herself well. “In my family it is a tradition that once we reach a certain age we leave our family home and travel for a time. That way we learn more about the world than just what we read in our books.”

Once again fingering the jewel around her neck, she smiled as she remembered the day she headed off on her travels. “I will travel for awhile and then return to my family at a meeting place near the Lonely Mountain." Realizing that she had been talking for several minutes she turned to her dining companion and asked, "Would you please tell me more about yourself and this land?”

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia helped with the cleaning of the Inn for a while, then saw to her mare, Annufin. The large silvery horse stood still as she was groomed and spoken to. The elf always preferred to look after her own horse.

A check on Arrow found him awake, and sitting up. He was in some pain, but obviously refused to stay lying down. "You really should rest, Arrow." Elkamia told him. The silvery dog just stared at her. Reminds me of myself. she thought, smiling. Leave him to it. I don't think he can get out of the stall. Funny thing, most dogs that get hit by a carraige and two don't sit up for several days. She shook her head, and ventured back out into the sunshine.

She ate, and then disappeared into the nearby trees with her weapons. She didn't think that Aman would appreciate her practising archery, swordfighting and knifework too near the Inn.

[Kitanna]

"I just arrived last night with my companion, a dwarf named Deva. He has been here before, but I have not. It is called the Shire and it is home to those delightful Hobbit creatures." Peony recalled the party last. It seemed the Hobbits had a certain fondness for such a gathering.

"As for me, I am from Minas Tirith. My father would go out on his travels and I would beg to go with him. Very rarely was I permitted, but I always had a wonderful time when I could follow. That's how I met Deva. When I turned twenty-one I set out with Deva for our own travels. That was nearly a year ago, how the time flies."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow stepped into the main room. As she seen, the morn had passed, though the sun was still bright in the morning sky, showing that it was not yet noon-time. Breakfast was still being served in the room, as well as second breakfast, for those who had been up bright and early, though Willow doubted that there were many of those, as the party had gone on late into the night; the moon had been high in the starlit sky when at last, she had stumbled into bed, tired beyond mortal thoughts.

Ah, the blessed realm of sleep, Willow thought wistfully. But indeed, the night had been fair, and something that she would remember for the rest of her days, standing up there, with her fellow hobbits, playing the fiddle for all to hear...

Speaking of which, she wondered in her mind, I wonder where Dasiy, Lily, and Mira are?

Not that it really mattered at the moment, though it had been nice to have companionship, as she still tended to slip off into dream-worlds at times. But at the moment, it was not that she wished to be alone, it was just that she was rather hungered.

"And, now that I think of it," she said, out loud, though not meaning to, "I didn't eat a thing last night!" Willow grinned to herself. "Now, that's an interesting thought to figure!"

She wasn't going to go without food for much longer. Willow walked across the room, and picked up a plate containing bacon, eggs, a muffin, and an apple from the hobbit in the kitchen. Willow took a place at one of the tables, and began to eat without abandon, though she normally curbed her morning hunger when staying at an Inn.

Willow wasn't worrying about that now, though, as she was starved; or so it seemed, and at the moment, attacking her plate full of food eagerly seemed the only thing to do.

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

Farren sat back in the barstool, almost tipping it over, before she righted herself. A plate sat in front of her, it's silver rim embracing the remains of a large breakfast. Full and content, she began to hum to herself softly, a tune that she made up on the spot, weaving in and out of the natural noises of the inn. For a few minutes, she simply looked around, and seeing everyone engaged, decided to keep silent. Out of force of habit, as she observed the inn, she began to kick her heels against the seat, tip-tapping out a beat that she could hum to more comfortably.

Someone looked round at her, staring pointedly at her feet. The bump-a-dump, bump-a-dump ceased abruptly as Farren realized that she was fidgeting, an old habit from her childhood that had never really been eradicated from her arsenal of Very Annoying Behavior. Crossing her legs beneath her, she resumed her silent staring. Ha, there was someone new on the radar! A young woman, apparently from upstairs, tucking into a plate of breakfast with vigor. Standing up, Farren walked over, and sat herself down from across the woman. "Mind if I sit here?" she asked brightly.

[starkat]

“You are lucky to have a traveling companion. My horse Elenath, is my only compaion right now.” Gwenneth pushed her plate back since she was through eating. “The Shire. What an interesting name for so lovely a country. On my way through the Shire I noticed how green everything is. The amount of different things that grow here is wonderful. Are the Hobbits gardners?”

“Minas Tirith! I have heard of it. It is in Gondor is it not?” the elf maid exclaimed. “Can you tell me more about it and the areas between here and there? When my parents gave me Elenath, they said she was from Rohan. I hope one day to visit there.”

[Kitanna]

"Rohan, you must make it a point to visit there one day. It is a beautiful country. My father was born and raised there, our family often went to visit there." Peony was once again wrapped in her love for Rohan and its people.

"To have a horse bred by the Horse-lords. If only I could claim such a thing. My horse was raised by one of the stable boys in Minas Tirith and she is nothing like the horses from Rohan."

"Now about Minas Tirith, yes it is in Gondor. The capital to be exact. It has been called the White City and I cannot explain its beauty to you. It is a sight one must see on their own. It is far from here and sometimes I long to return to see my family, but the open road calls my name."

Peony thought of all the places she had visited that lay between the Shire and Minas Tirirth. "There are many places between here and Gondor and most I have not yet seen. Of course there is Rohan, the Misty Mountains, the Elven realms of Rivendell and Lorien, both of which I have never seen, only heard the tales. So many place Gwenneth, most of which I have never seen."

Peony took a breath and pushed her plate aside as Gwenneth had done a few minutes earlier. "But enough about that. I talk to much and I would much rather listen to your tales, milady."

[starkat]

Seeing Peony’s delight at her memories of Rohan, Gwenneth sighed, "One day I will make it to Rohan. It sounds like a wonderful place. You have been to so many places.”

“My father was born and raised in Rivendell. He took me there to visit when I was very young, but sadly I do not remember much.” Thinking hard, trying to recall, all she could bring to mind was a brief time of singing. “I was hoping to visit there as well.”

Smiling as she again recalled the day she parted from her family, “I have two brothers and a sister. All are older than me by several years. My brothers found wives on their journeys and have settled near the sea. My sister sailed from the Havens sometime ago. My parents still travel.”

“My main talents growing up seemed to be getting into trouble.” Laughing at herself, Gwenneth looked at Peony, “As I grew I became an excellent horsewoman and archer. When it was my turn to travel my brothers did not want me to go alone, but as I was skilled in defending myself, our parents let me go alone.”

Once again fingering the jewel around her neck Gwenneth continued, “My mother gave me this before I left. It is a tradition in my family that the one traveling wears it.” Struck with an idea Gwenneth turned to her companion, “You said you had a horse here, correct? Would you go on a ride with me this afternoon and show me around?”

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow was quite enjoying her breakfast, as was usual for a hobbit, when a woman happened by. Willow didn't recongnize her, but that was normal, as there was always new people in the area, and old people, that she didn't know by sight.

"Mind if I sit here?" the new-comer asked, a touch of brightness to her voice, and cheer.

Willow set her spoon down for a moment. "Oh no, not at all," she replied. "I'll finish eating here, if you don't mind." She smiled, and added, "I haven't ate since mid-afternoon yesterday, friend."

Willow dove back into her food, but, as she had been eating with much vigor, there was little left, and it took her a few minutes to clear her plate. She set the spoon, and knife over the plate, and pushed it aside, across the slightly stained wooden table. Just last night, Willow reflected, I was standing up on one of these tables, fiddling... with friends. She smiled faintly at the memory. "And who are you, and whereabouts are you from, friend?" she asked cheerfully. Her hunger was quenched, and no longer did it drive her to distraction. "I am Willow Overhill, of the North Moors," she added, in way of an introduction.

The sun peeked in through the windows as the day grew slightly later, and the tables were sunkissed with the brilliant light. The day would be fair indeed.

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

"Pleased to make your aquaintence, Willow," she replyed, delighted that someone was willing to talk to her, a stranger in an unfamiliar place. "I'm Farren, from along the road." This last sentence had come out rather awkwardly, as all introductions and explanations are apt to do, hanging in the air between the two women like a strange insect trapped in an eddy of air. "Well, what I mean to say is, I'm a traveler, so I'm really not from anywhere in particular."

Willow nodded wisely, indicating that this answer was not an uncommon one round these parts. Arranging her elbows on the table, the hobbit said, "We see a lot of people coming through here, and from all places."

"I surmised as much when I saw the company. Are you yourself a traveler, or do you live here in Hobbiton?" asked Farren, eager for a tale.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"I'm from the North Moors," Willow replied, an easy answer to an easy question. "I am pleased to meet you, Farren. A traveler. There are many of your type through here now." She smiled, the easy smile lighting her face, when she was friendly, indeed, she could be a fair person.

There was a wistful smile on Willow's face as she continued: "I don't travel much, yes, indeed, I have seen much of the Shire, but no where else. I am but a Hobbit, one of the Little Folk, as some would say. And even now, we still have our own world here, it's so different from everywhere else, or so I hear tell."

She spoke distantly, remembering things she had heard in the past, years ago. "When I was little," she began, "my father, my true father-- he died when I was still a tween-- he used to tell tales. He was a traveler, you see, a Brandybuck. My mother was from the North parts, which is where I grew up. But my father, before he married my mother, he used to travel a bit, even to Bree, and he would tell me things that he had seen in those far places." There was thrill in her eyes as she spoke of this, even though, to remember her parents, it hurt.

"My father brought my fiddle back from Bree," she said softly. "And when he died, before, that is, he gave it to my mother, and she to me. They were both very sick, I don't remember it well. But afterwards, when I was old enough, I chose to see the Shire, and then remained her, in Hobbiton afterwards. I've never traveled beyond Crickhollow."

There was a shining light in her eyes as she turned to Farren. "But tell me, what is it like to travel, to have no place to truly call home? I've always dreamed of such things, but what's a little Hobbit to do? I am happy here in Hobbiton now, but I still would love to hear of your travels!"

Willow smiled, and with her eagerness, showed her for the younger spirit that she had. Indeed, she was one of questions, once she had something to talk about, and Farren was someone to talk to. So she talked.

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

Willow finished the tale of her family, and turned towards Farren, eyes glittering brilliantly in the warm light. Farren felt guilty for causing her to relive painful events that she probably would have prefered to keep to herself. She swallowed and slowly said, "I'm sorry if I was prying, I surely did not intend to sadden you."

A smile, albiet a small and hesitant one, grew on Willow's face, as she replyed, "Really, it's fine. Don't be apologizing, but tell me about yourself, and tales of the road."

"You know how the stories say that travelling is exciting and dramatic? It's all a lie really. The most exciting thing that ever happened to me was camping near a lake in a lightning storm," said Ferran with a laugh, remembering how drenched she was, and how stupid she had been to pick that particular spot as a resting place when a storm was brewing. "I was born to the daughter of merchant on the coast, though I don't exactly know where. All I remember was the smell of the ocean, the salt and seaweed, and the crash of the waves on the rocks. We left that place and headed inland when I was barely a day over two years."

Ghostly images of the sun sinking into the waves, a ball of fire extinguised by cool water, days when the ocean was so still and clear that she could see down many fathoms, and watch crabs pick their way across a desert under the water, pursued by darting silver fish, flicking in and out of shadowed rocky nooks, hiding from half-imagined predators filled Farren's mind, putting her into sort of a trance, so that she barely heard when Willow asked her, "And when did you start traveling?"

Farren shrugged, coming out of her surreal nostalgia with a sort of jerk, her conciousness snapping back to the dusty warmth of the inn, and back to the voice of the hobbit sitting in front of her, chin in her hands. "A few years ago, when I was around 19, I think. I wandered around the wilds, tryed to find Rivendell, learned to ride a horse, and eventually made my way north, following tales of trees that could walk, though I never saw any. And when I came to your land," she nodded at Willow, "I didn't find and mythical creatures, but I decided to stay a while. So here I am today, talking to you."

[Kitanna]

"I do not know much of this place, but we can go out for a ride anyway and see what we can." Peony looked around for Deva. Probably still in bed. He wouldn't be up for hours.

"My silly companion. No matter how many naps he takes he still cannot rise before noon. He can be awfully lazy sometimes." She laughed to herself and shook her head.

Looking back at Gwenneth she smiled broadly. "Rivendell eh? I would love to see such a place. But you said you had only been there once, so then where were you born, Gwenneth?"

[starkat]

"That would be wonderful. Hennaid." Gwenneth paused a moment to take a drink from her glass, "I need to remember to talk to the innkeeper before we go. If your companion comes down before we go, do you think he would like to go with us?"

Leaning back in her chair a little, Gwenneth thought about the question, "I was born in Mirkwood, amongst my mother’s family.” Blushing as she realized that she had forgotten to mention where her mother was from earlier, the elf maid continued, “My mother was visiting family at the time, but most I spent most of my years by the sea in the same town as my brothers. Since I was so young, my parents would leave me with one or the other while they traveled.”

[nynnd1]

“Breakfast would be delightful Lady Aman, I would take anything for my hunger.”

Bredan was not sure how she felt but Aman was smiling at him, and what a smile she had. He thought how inconvenient it was right now, to produce feelings for another person. But he could not help himself.

“Breakfast will be with you shortly, Bredan.” Aman said.

“Excuse me for awhile” he said to Eleniel and Gird, he guessed that they knew where he was going, although Bredan himself did not know what he was going to do when he got there.

Bredan walked to the end of the bar, determined to know right know if Aman liked him, or if she didn’t, he hoped anyway that the answer would help him. She was there looking busy, but she always seemed to look her best. The butterflies were working overtime in his stomach as his lungs and vocal chords got ready to work.

“Lady Aman, you may think me forward and I am usually not, but your beauty is so great that I have need to be forward, I like you a lot, you have came like a ray of sunshine that has pierced the black abyss that is my life, I do understand if you do not feel back like this. And if there is someone who your heart already belongs to then I would like to meet him and proclaim him the luckiest man in the world.” He had a suspicion that if there was another man it was Snaveling, he just sensed tension from them.

“So my Lady, what do you think?”, he eagerly awaited the reply.

Bredan felt drained by his dialogue, but Aman seemed to give him energy. He looked around seeing who had just heard what he said, nobody looked like they had heard.

[symestreem]

The door to the Inn was pushed open by an unseen hand, and a cloaked head poked itself around the corner. Then the door opened all the way, and a form stepped inside. It threw back its cloak, and the woman beneath it blinked against the dimness. She looked like she had some grotesque deformity, but when she took off her cloak the odd bundles strapped to her back were revealed. In addition to a pack, she had a fiddle and an accordian tied across her back. She carried what looked like a miniature harp in her hands, and a slate dangled from her belt.

She looked around and walked over to the bar, pushing the slate across the countertop. I'm looking for a room, it said, and also a glass of lemonade. Might I find either here?

[Kitanna]

Deva woke up only to find Peony already awake. That was no surprise to him she was almost always up and moving about before he was. He quickly got dressed and headed downstairs. The dwarf looked around and spotted Peony sitting at a table with an elf woman.

Deva wandered over to say good morning. "Deva!" Peony exclaimed, "Join us?"

"No, no, I will leave you to your friend, Peony." He nodded to Gwenneth to acknowledge her. "I will take my breakfast and meet up with you later in the day."

"Would you like to join us on a ride?" Peony asked.

Deva just shook his head and walked off.

Peony returned her attention to Gwenneth. "Both your parents are travellers? My mother would never travel the lands, she has never even set foot outside of Gondor." Peony pulled her hair out of its ponytail letting it fall back into her face.

"Sorry about Deva being so unsocialable. Once he's eaten he'll be in a better mood."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"Indeed," said Willow, thinking over what Farren had said.

"I didn't find any mythical creatures, but I decided to stay a while. So here I am today, talking to you," finshed Farren, as Willow thought deeply over all that had been said.

Willwo distantly heard the door open as someone came in, but she was deep in thought with what had been told to her. "Then," she began, "it seems that your life was as hard as mine. A life by the seas, and then to traveling. Seemingly though, your's was harder than mine." Willow smiled, and allowed herself time to think over all that had been said. "No, there are no mythical creatures here, unless us hobbits could be called that to you, and your people."

Farren smiled. "No, your folk are not mythical to us." She smiled, and Willow smiled with her.

"I hope that I did not bring up memories that were too painful for you," Willow said softly. "I know how much the past can hurt."

Memories. In the sunlight dancing with her mother, suntouched plants around them. Her father swinging her up into his arms, laughing as she giggled away. At night, her father fiddling as the stars rose up over the black velvet sky...

Willow wiped away the memories. They were too painful for her to think of now, with both of her parents dead from a strange sickness, and her now here, in Hobbiton, among friends. There was no need to go running off, crying, in fear, and from shyness that had set in since they had gone. "Do your memories pain you to recall?" Willow asked softly. "Is there a hollow in your heart, that in the black of night pains you to the bitter core." A bitterness was in the hobbit's voice as she spoke, she knew first hand that of which she spoke.

[starkat]

" Avaro naeth. Don’t worry about it. My oldest brother can be pretty grumpy until after he has had his breakfast.” The younger of my brothers can be pretty grumpy too, she mused.

“Yes, my parents are travelers. My mother weaves rugs and my father is a wood carver. They travel so that they can sell their goods.” Taking a drink of water Gwenneth paused for a minute. “If they were able to stick to their traveling schedule, they should be in Rohan by now. Unless of course they stopped somewhere along the way,” she smiled.

“Do you have any siblings? You told me about your parents, but you did not mention any brothers or sisters.” Gwenneth looked across the room at where Deva was eating, “How did you meet Deva?”

[Firefoot]

Lily returned a couple of hours later. She was slightly flushed from the activity and Clover had a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. When she reached the stable she dismounted and removed her saddle. She walked Clover around for about five minutes so he could cool off and left him in his stall with fresh hay.

"Eat up, boy. You earned it," she said. Lily walked back towards the Inn. I wonder if Willow, Mira, or Daisy is up yet?, she thought. She went inside and looked around for her friends. She smiled, spotting Willow talking to a woman at one of the tables. But before she walked over there, she went to get second breakfast. She didn't get a lot, just enough to tie her over until the next meal. Then she made her way over to where Willow and the woman were sitting.

"Good morning, Willow," she said cheerfully. "And good morning to you too," she said to Willow's companion. "My name is Lily Thistlewool." Lily sat down next to Willow, and noting the serious expressions on both their faces wondered vaguely what they had been talking about. She hoped she wasn't interrupting.

[Kitanna]

"I have two older brothers. One is a guard of the Citadel and the other has moved to Rohan and become a farmer. I do not see them as often as I would like, but I guess that's the way the world turns."

Peony looked over her shoulder for a second to see Deva eating his breakfast. "As I said my father is a wanderer and he met Deva on one of his adventures years before I was born. Deva is a close family friend and volunteered to take me across the lands. Though one day I'm hoping to be able to go out and explore on my own.

"My mother would have me return to Minas Tirith and marry, but I can't say good-bye to the open road."

[starkat]

“My mother has similar hopes that I will find someone on my journey as my brothers did and settle down. I don’t know though. At the end of my sister’s journey she had decided that she no longer wanted to remain in Middle Earth and sailed from the Havens." Looking down at her hands, Gwenneth continued, “That to is one of my choices, but I hope to travel for many years and make many new friends along the way.”

With a slightly embarrassed look on her face, Gwenneth pushed a stray strand of her hair out of her face. “Would you tell me more about your horse? You said that he was raised in Minas Tirith. Did you know him as a foal or after he was trained?”

[Kitanna]

Peony smiled, she loved her mare Surefoot so much. "Her name is Surefoot and she is about three years old. She was a present from my oldest brother. I raised her for the most part, but my brothers would help me every now and then." Peony remember breaking Surefoot. Such a fiesty horse who was almost impossible to break. No man could do it. Surefoot only trusted Peony to ride her.

Peony hoped Surefoot was alright in the stables over the night. "And your horse? You said he was from Rohan? How did you come across him?"

[starkat]

“Surefoot sounds like a wonderful mare," Gwenneth said. “I did not raise my horse from a foal, but we have been together since my father brought her home.”

Thinking back to the day her father brought Elenath home she continued, “Elenath, my mare, is five now. I first saw her when she was two years old. My father had made a journey to Rohan and when he returned he brought back three horses. He gave me first pick of the horses. I went out into the pasture amongst them and Elenath came directly up to me and wanted to play.”

Giggling at the memories of her first days with her horse, Gwenneth smiled. “You might say that Elenath chose me. We were together from that day on. She will not let anyone else on her back but me.”

“My father let me name her and because of her night-dark coat with a small sprinkling of white hairs, I named her Elenath or stars.” Smiling again at Peony, Gwenneth asked, “What does Surefoot look like?”

[Kitanna]

"She's a lovely shade of brown with a few white hairs in her tail. My oldest brother always said the only thing more stubborn than me was Surefoot." Peony thought of all the places she had seen with Surefoot. Aside from Deva that mare was her best friend.

“Elenath," She said, "That's a beautiful name and I have no doubts she is a beautiful horse." Peony couldn't wait to go for a ride. "I love horses so much, they make great companions. They can keep you warm on long cold nights and are always there when you need them the most. Don't you agree?"

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling noticed how Galadel managed to avoid answering his most pressing questions. What she revealed of Numénor astounded him for it gave detail and life to a land that he had been raised to believe was little more than a fairy-tale. That she had been to this land was almost beyond belief. He of course knew of the immortality of the Elder Race and he had seen enough of Galadel to know that she was an ancient being, but such age as she spoke of now he would have thought would be more clearly written on her face. Her laughter as she swept away with the glasses dashed his concerns like brittle glass, however, and he resumed his sweeping. He thought over what she had said and tried to piece out of it his own fragmentary story. The King who has assailed the West had been presented in her tale as the villain, and those who rebelled against him as the heroes. But he had ever been taught to regard the supposed Faithful as traitors to the young prince – his ancestor – who along among all Men of Middle-Earth was the rightful heir…

He paused in his work as the full import of what Galadel had told him thundered into his mind. King Elessar, the very king he had agreed to face with Roa, was the descendant of those rebels. And Snaveling, if the tale told by his amulet were to be believed, was the descendant of the true king of Numénor. He leaned lightly against a table to gain his equilibrium. No wonder Roa had reacted so strongly! He and her beloved King were competitors to the same throne, and claimants to the same royal right. He sat heavily, the broom now clutched loosely in his hand. He had no illusions about his claim: he knew that he would never be recognised as the heir by any Man in Middle-Earth, nor did he want to be! He groaned and closed his eyes. Why did I ever come to this place? he demanded of himself. All I’ve ever wanted was a lodge of my own, with a part of the world where nobody would task me or tell me how to live my life. And now I am to be called to account before a High King who will consider me a rival and enemy? Despite the gravity of his situation he could not help but smile at the irony of his situation. Two months ago he had been a lonely, pathetic and starving beggar: friendless and hopeless. Now, however, he had a home, friends and hope. But the price of these was proving to be a high one.

His thoughts flew, as always, to Roa. He must see her and explain to her that he did not wish to press any claim against anyone. The enmities of the past did not concern him, nor would he trouble any one about them. At the same time, though, if his claims were legitimate, perhaps there would be some way to negotiate with this King of Roa’s… He paused at this thought, and for a moment the idea of his hunting lodge became a wild reality in his imagination. What is a single isolated valley to the King of Gondor? he thought. Especially when it is granted in return for a competitor’s refusal to stake his claim to the throne? He looked about for Roa to see if she had descended yet, but there was no sign of her. Dropping his broom and rushing from his chair he went to Aman to seek for Roa. The Innkeeper was locked in what appeared to be an intense conversation with the same Gondorian who had been casting such odd looks at Snaveling since the party, but Snaveling was too preoccupied to notice that he was interrupting. “Aman,” he said, taking her by the hand. He had intended to ask if she knew were Roa was, and to seek her advice on how to proceed immediately, but as he saw the alert – and unfriendly – look on the face of the Gondorian (Bredan! His name is Bredan) he decided that he would rather have this conversation in private. Adopting a more calm tone and manner, Snaveling asked “I’m sorry Aman, but I have something that I must speak to you about. Could we step into your study for a moment?” He looked at Bredan pointedly and then added, "Alone?"

[starkat]

Gwenneth didn’t respond right away. She was too busy wool gathering about her horse. Realizing that Peony had finished talking, the elf maid looked over at her, "Yes, I do. Horses are also great friends.”

Gwenneth stood up from the tables and stretched a bit. Returning to her chair she apologized, “Sorry about that. I tend to get pretty restless after sitting in one place too long.”

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"Your face tells me otherwise." Adu didn't know what to say. She had moved on and forgot about Jack. She had Hama now and didn't want to go back to the terrible life she had before. Everything was better now. Adu didn't need to remember the painful memories of her loss. She knew that Hama would be returning with some good news. That is news of Hama's new position. She couldn't wait until he returned. Perhaps then she can move forward with her life like Crystal did. "Isaac, I know what I remember and there was never a forest. As far as feelings between Jack and I. Those died out the day he left. I haven't had any feelings for him since he decided that it was best that he quit General Dorian's riders and go out on his own. I'm sorry if that makes everything a little bitter but that is how I have to be."

Well its how it has to be. You made your choice and I have made mine. Hama and I will reunite Dorian's riders. You will only be another memory. A memory I am all too happy to get rid of. I will not go through the same heartache again. I will never be a victim to what you did to me. Dorian took advantage of my skill in combat and you took advantage of my heart. NEVER AGAIN!

Adu placed her right hand on the hilt of Nehema. Her sword was tucked safely under her elvish cloak. She thought she heard Count out in the stables. "Isaac if you will excuse me. I need to go see if Count had a nice night in the stables. We can talk a little later perhaps. That is when I am able to relax a bit." She picked up her mug of ale and began to go to the stables when she saw that Cree was headed there too. Avalon was the only crow she had ever seen that was so calm around people. Perhaps it was just Cree's calmness that Avalon liked.

Adu felt a hand touch her shoulder. It wasn't everyday she had someone touch her. She turned around to see that Isaac was there. Adu needed to be alone for a bit with her horse. She had to calm down about the whole Jack and Isaac thing. She didn't need it any more.

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac was taken back. No one had spoken to him like that, ever. After placing his hand on her shoulder, he thought carefully about what to say. "Adu, I'm sorry if I have offended you in any way. I thought that maybe what I saw was real, I merely wanted to try and grasp at any thread from my past. I knew it was a longshot and I once again apologize."

After saying this, Isaac removed his hand from her shoulder and turned to walk back for the table where he'd been sitting. I must be losing my mind... he thought to himself as he sat back in his seat. Without any warning, Isaac recieved another jumbled mass of images. What he saw disturbed him far more than anything else he'd ever experienced. He stood up again and ran for the stables. Upon his arrival and with some difficulty, he began to speak to Adu. "Adu, when was the last time you saw Jack?" he asked, trying to hide what appeared to be the horror in his eyes.

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

"Do your memories pain you to recall?" asked Willow, her voice barely above a whisper, the question almost losing itself in the noisey room. "Is there a hollow in your heart, that in the black of night pains you to the bitter core?" Farren sat silently, gathering thoughts that had scattered far and wide like spent storm clouds when the sun detroys any vestige of of watery blackness. "They don't hurt. They make me dream though. I wish I could find that place by the sea, and go back and live there, sailing out for days, only coming back when I needed provisions." Farren sighed. "But I can't."

Willow looked puzzled. "Why not?"

Her face stiff and sad as a cold iron poker, Farren replyed, "Because I can't swim." She giggled madly, enjoying the look on Willow's face. "Fooled you." Willow rolled her eyes, chuckling a bit. But even as a few rays of light cannot totally break up a downpour, a poor joke did not entirely break up the sad, wistful mood that pervaded the table. The storm clouds were on the horizon again, shading everything the soft, misty gray of memories.

At that moment, another hobbit sat down, her face slightly flushed, and a wide smile spreading across her lips. She greeted them cheerily, introducing herself as Lily Thistlewool. Taking in the downcast expressions on their faces, she looked nervous that she had disturbed them. Shaking of her dark mood, Farren smiled back at Lily. "I'm Farren."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman simply stared at Bredan for a second, her mouth open - this can't have been very attractive, but the Gondorian didn't actually seem put off.

"So, my lady, what do you think?" he inquired again. Now, reasoned the Innkeeper inwardly. We already know his is not drunk, and he seems quite sane...can it be possible that he is serious? Good gods, Aman, every race in Middle Earth seems to pass through your Inn and a Gondorian announces out of the blue that it is not some fair immortal or mysterious Easterling he fancies for himself, but you!

"Bredan, I am..." she trailed off. Frankly, she hadn't really had a clue what she was going to say in the first place. Maybe a metaphorical phrasing would be better? "There is someone who-"

"There is someone, then," Bredan murmured softly. Aman's eyebrows shot up. "What? Well, not-"

"Aman.”

A soft voice and the touch of warmth on her hand made Aman turn her head to see Snaveling. A chord of irony struck inside her to see his face... Apparently oblivious to the Innkeeper's dilemma, he took her hand, looking into her eyes about to speak...then he paused, glancing at Bredan. Someone who had spent no time in the company of sentient beings and knew nothing of emotion could have detected the hostility practically pouring from the Gondorian in waves. Snaveling paused, then turned back to Aman. "I'm sorry Aman, but I have something that I must speak to you about. Could we step into your study for a moment?" Another glance at Bredan and he added, "Alone?"

And in a split second, several things flew through Aman's head.

One, she realised the reason for Bredan's suspicious glance around after he had spoken.

Two, the complete surprise that he had suspected that.

Three, with the look currently starting to brew on Bredan's face and the way his fingers were beginning to curl, it was highly likely that in a few seconds Snaveling was about to be punched.

"Of course, sir, come with me please," she gushed quickly, careful to stress the formality rather than using his name. However, Bredan was not fooled.

"Luckiest man in the world..." he growled menacingly. Aman paled and Snaveling, his humour ever dark, actually raised an eyebrow. Bredan rose quickly at this, knocking the bar stool from beneath him. Aman returned Snaveling's grip on her hand and pulled him away towards her study, apologising with utmost haste over her shoulder to Bredan as she marched away.

Aman didn't look back until they had entered the study. Closing the door, she let go of Snaveling's hand and collapsed into one of the two soft chairs by the fire, her head in her hands. The man seemed worried. "Are you alright, Aman?" she heard him ask conceredly from somewhere above. Taking a deep breath, she sat up and blew out her cheeks, looking up at him.

"Hmm. I'm afraid someone has just declared undying love to me, which is..." she sought the right word. "...inconvenient." It wasn't the word she had been looking for, but it would have to do. At the look of surprise on Snaveling's face, the Rohirrim Innkeeper grinned briefly. "Indeed." She paused, looking him up and down now that she had time to do so as he lowered himself in a more dignified fashion into the other chair. Aman had been too busy the night before to take much note of Snaveling's change other than the plain fact that it had very certainly happened, but now she began to realise the extent to which he was...transformed. His previously sallow face now seemed dark and smooth, the proud bone structure noble, framed with what was evidently hair that had been washed for the first time in a while. And that suit... the like was rarely seen passing through Bree casually, and yet it was not showy - it was quietly elegant, the suit of a refined gentleman. And that...talisman...that glistened over it...

"Snaveling, that is really a remarkably fine look for you," she commented suddenly, then sat forward and motioned to the decanter on the table beside them. "Wine?"

[Maeggaladiel]

The silver dog whined. He was trapped in a stall and his human was nowhere in sight. The elf woman had visited him several times, but he was otherwise alone.

And that meant that his human was alone! Grunting with the exhertion, Arrow stood on shaking legs. He wasn't in pain; that nasty liquid that Isaac made him drink must still be working. Either that or the elf maid's healings worked very quickly. He sniffed his clean bandages. They reeked of herbs and dried blood, almost overpowering to his sensitive nose. He sneezed.

Time to find his Eleniel.

Standing on his hind legs, the dog hooked his forepaws over the door to his stall. As he had guessed, the lock on the other side was a simple latch. He bent his neck as far down as he could and grasped the latch with his teeth. Wagging his tail gleefully, Arrow unlocked the door and trotted to the Inn. He butted open the Inn door with his head and looked around. Isaac and the elf woman were in one corner, but Eleniel was not with them. She was talking with two other gentlemen.

She was talking to strangers without him?!?! He growled and ran to her, plopping himself down on her feet. His injured leg gave a painful flare of protest, but he ignored it, drooling on her shoe to get her attention.

"Arrow!!" Eleniel cried. "What in Middle Earth are you doing in here!?" Arrow gave her a smug look. If SHE could be here, HE could be here.

[Kitanna]

"If I have learned nothing else from my mother I have learned how to sit still for long amounts of time. I used to become restless, but my mother went nuts when I was restless so I had to learn otherwise."

As Peony spoke Deva came up and whispered a few words into her ear. Peony nodded and the dwarf was gone.

"He feels it is nessacary to tell me exactly what he is doing. He said he's going for a walk. He'll probably fall asleep somewhere and return at supper."

[starkat]

Gwenneth smiled. “I hope he enjoys his walk.” The restless feeling continued growing and she started fidgeting a little.

“Peony, would you like to go out to the stables with me? I feel a need to check on Elenath.” Blushing a little, the elf maid looked over at her companion, “I get a little antsy when I haven’t seen her for a while.” Suddenly another thought struck her, “Oh! Could you introduce me to the innkeeper please? I need to see about getting a room and stabling my horse.”

[Kitanna]

Peony pointed to the innkeeper Aman. "See that woman over there? She is the innkeeper." Peony thought for a moment. "Why don't you check in and I'll go wait for you out in the stables. Sure foot is probably wondering why I haven't come to visit her yet."

Gwenneth nodded in agreement and went to get a room. Peony walked outside and was refreshed by the morning air. She took the path to the stables and entered.

In a far stall Surefoot neighed gladly to see her master. "My dearest friend." She patted the mare on the head and ran her hand down Surefoot's face. "Want to go for a ride?"

The horse neighed and nudged Peony's chest. "First we must wait for my companion, do not be so anxious." Peony began to brush Surefoot off as she waited for Gwenneth.

[starkat]

Having seen the innkeeper walk into a room and close the door, Gwenneth knocked on the door and opened it. She apologized for interrupting and asked about a room.

With a room key in hand, Gwenneth headed out to the stables. Seeing Elenath tied by the water trough, the elf maid walked over to her. “Suilaid mellon,” she whispered. Elenath shoved her head into Gwenneth’s hands. “I missed you too my friend. I made a new friend inside the inn and we are going to go out on a ride. Would you carry me?” The horse nickered in agreement, eager to be off.

“Hennaid, thank you.” Untying her mare, Gwenneth led her into the stable and looked around for Peony.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling declined the wine – the memories of what drink had led him to the night before too fresh in his mind. He was surprised and a bit confused by Aman’s manner. She was regarding him as she had not before…in fact, she was regarding him as no one ever had before. He did not know what to make of it, but decided that she was still made uncomfortable by what Bredan had said to her. He had seen the threat in the young man’s eyes, and the too easy twitching of his fist, but he had been unafraid. Snaveling had been a man alone not to have learned how to care for himself, even if it had come to that, and somehow he doubted that anything like the sort that Aman had feared would happen at the Green Dragon. Still, he made a mental note to be cautious around the young Gondorian.

Aman’s attention to his clothes made him suddenly self conscious and he half wished that he could be back in his robes…but then again, the thought of appearing before Aman in those rags seemed wrong now, in a way that he could not identify. He pulled himself upright in his chair and absentmindedly brushed a lock of hair from his face. He then placed his hand on his chin with one finger draped loosely across his lips. It was an old habit that he took on when thinking of something elusive. He had no idea how regal it made him appear. “Aman,” he began slowly, dropping his hands and clasping them between his knees as he leaned forward slightly. “I need your advice.” The Innkeeper seemed surprised by this but remained silent. Made suddenly bold, Snaveling pressed ahead. “I have recently found out some interesting things about myself that have come, well, as something of a shock to me. I rather suspect that you might find it hard to believe – in fact, I’m not sure that I believe it myself yet – but according to My Lady Galadel, I would appear to be descended from royalty!” He told Aman about his amulet and about the tales of his people that claimed he was descended from the young prince of now vanished Númenór. Her eyes grew wider and wider as he spoke, and when he finished there was a long silence.

“In truth, my friend,” she began carefully, “I do not know what to make of your story. If you are indeed the lost descendant of Ar-Pharazôn then you are a mighty figure indeed!”

Snaveling winced at this. “Please!” he interrupted, but then dropping his tone he said with an apologetic smile, “I do not wish to be mighty. All I wish in the world is…a place…a special place to call my own. A place where I can” and in his mind he saw Roa’s hair streaming out from them both in the wind of morning, “where I can be alone and live my life as I see fit” he concluded lamely, and he could see in Aman’s eyes that she knew he had held something back. “You know the people of Gondor far better than I. I am bound by Roa to appear before her King Elessar where I am to face his justice for my crimes. When he finds out who I am supposed to be, is there any hope that I will receive justice? Will he not rather have me killed on the spot rather than risk that I might make a claim on his throne, no matter how hopeless and dream-like that claim might be?”

Aman gazed at him and asked, “If you fear for your life at the hands of the King, why have you agreed to go before him?”

Snaveling looked away, suddenly self-conscious once more. “I am bound by a promise,” he said quietly. “A very important promise to one whom I dare not betray again – even if I had the heart to do anything against her.” And as he spoke, he could not meet Aman’s eyes for fear that she would read there what he was feeling.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"When was the last time you saw Jack?" Adu needed to answer this question but decided that if she answered it truthfully then it would only make her look bad. She had to tell Isaac some type of lie that will not hurt her in the end. She was suprised that Isaac had followed her into the stables and then after leaving he ran back into the stables. Isaac was a strange person even if he may or may not be the Jack she has been looking for.

"Isaac, it was many years ago. Back when I had first became a warrior for Dorian. That was the good days. You seem scared. What happened?" Adu turned when she heard Count. She needed to check on Count and see how he was but right now Isaac was there.

If Isaac sees Count then everything will fall in on me. I will no longer have Hama instead I will be stuck with Isaac again. That is something I never want again. Hama is far better a man than Jack ever thought about being. "Isaac I need to check up on my horse. He's getting a little shaken since he isn't use to staying in the stables." Adu always had Count attached to a tree of some sort. Times had changed and if Adu was going to stay here for a while then she needed to get Count use to staying in the stables until she got her own place to stay. Adu turned to go to Count but stopped. "Isaac, tell me one thing. Why do you persist on finding more out about Jack? It was a long time ago and he's lost to me now."

Adu's voice trailed off into the wind. What else was she suppose to do? All she wanted was to get to her dear friend and see what else she could find out about this Isaac.

[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

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

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.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

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.

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

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

It is now midmorning, inching toward noon. The weather is pleasant though there are clouds on the horizon and by afternoon there may be rain.

[Archsage Isaac]

"Isaac, tell me one thing. Why do you persist on finding more out about Jack? It was a long time ago and he's lost to me now." Adu told Isaac, sounding a bit angry. Isaac blinked several times before replying.

"I got a new memory, one of Jack being attacked. It was not a clear memory, but I do know that the beast he was being attacked by looked exactly like the beast that I was by in my first memory." he said, slightly annoyed that she woud not answer his question. "Just please, answer that one question and I'll leave you to your horse." he finished, a pleading look filled his eyes.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman watched Snaveling for a long moment after he said this, noting the way he looked away. "I am bound by...a very important promise to one whom I dare not betray again – even if I had the heart to do anything against her."

Roa.

Aman would have had to be blind and far from the astute, sharp-eyed watcher that she was to not have noticed the way he looked at her. But then, she wondered how close he had looked at her - her expressions, the way she watched him for a little longer....either she had noticed or there was something going on from that side as well.

Blowing out her cheeks in a sigh, the Innkeeper leant back into her chair, regarding the man carefully under her eyelids as he turned to look back at her. One arm was draped across the arm of the chair, the wrist following the chair as it curved down, the other rested at the elbow, the forefinger curling under his bottom lip. As he straightened up, he looked properly back at the Innkeeper, his back straight against the chair, his arm falling into the same position as the other one as his dark eyes met hers, his chin held up proudly, although he probably didn't know it. He was, in a single word, even without any knowledge of his history...regal.

Leaning forward, she unwittingly copied his previous posture, her hands draped across her knees. "I must as you, Snaveling," she asked softly. "And do not be angry with me but...do you have any intention of making a claim for the throne? And if not...well, why should the King ever know?"

[Kitanna]

Peony saw Gwenneth enter the stables with her horse. "There they are." She said putting on Surefoot's reins. "Let us greet them."

She led Surefoot out of the stall and called to Gwenneth. "Gwenneth, I'm over here." She walked over to where her friend stood. She patted Surefoot's nose. "This is my beloved mare Surefoot."

Peony looked at Gwenneth's mare, filled with awe. "And this must be Elenath."

[starkat]

Blushing a little, Gwenneth smiled, “Yes. This is Elenath." Turning to Surefoot, the elf maid held out her hand to let Peony’s mare get accustomed to her sent. “Surefoot is beautiful,” she breathed as she reached her hand up and stroked Surefoot on her neck.

Turning to Peony, “She is only three? You have yourself a wonderful mare.” Seeing Peony still looking at Elenath, “Come, you are welcome to pet her. I can tell she likes both you and Surefoot.” After Peony and Surefoot had greeted Elenath, the two women turned their minds to the task at hand, getting ready to ride.

[piosenniel]

Let's try to get a little more descriptive writing into our posts.

Dialog is fine - but it's a little too barebones for gaming in the Barrow-Downs. It begins to sound chatty.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Firefoot]

Lily was quite relieved when the woman who introduced herself as Ferran and smiled. Lily felt much less like she was intruding on their conversation. So, she thought, Now what? Lily realized that though she had spent several hours with Willow last night, she knew virtually nothing about the other hobbit and, of course, having just met Ferran knew absolutely nothing about her, leaving Lily at a loss as to where to begin conversation. She brushed a stray wisp of chestnut colored hair behind her ear out of habit and straightened her light blue dress. The silence was starting to make her uncomfortable. She decided to start with what she knew.

"So, besides playing the fiddle, what else do you enjoy doing?" she inquired of Willow. "And Ferran, what are your hobbies?" She had her fingers crossed under the table that they would have enough common ground that they could carry on a conversation.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled. Indeed, she understood how the other hobbit felt, neither of them knew a thing about the other, though they had spent the night fiddling together. And now they did not even have that common ground to shed light on who they were, and what they could possibly converse about now. The bright light shone upon the floor, and the sun rose to meet the mid sky. It was now reaching afternoon hours, and Willow realized that the day was passing quite quickly indeed.

She grinned broadly. "Well, Lily, this is a new friend of mine, Farren. Farren, this is Lily, though she already introduced herself. A friend of mine as of last night, she is, and Lily, Farren I just met today. I suppose it would be best to aquaint ourselves as of now."

Willow thought hard, trying to come up with something that could make enough of a conversation starter, beyond music, as that was something that she knew the other hobbit liked, though she knew nothing about Farren's likes for music. I must ask her that sometime, Willow thought. Music was one of her stronger likes in life.

"Well, I do some writing," she said, trying to find a starter point. "Poems, stories, and such. What of you, Lily, Farren?"

Willow sat back in her chair, and hoped that there would be something to talk of on this subject. All the while the sun rose higher in the day-lit sky.

[Kitanna]

Peony stroked Elenath's velvety neck. "Such a fine horse." She still stood there in awe. It was a more amazing horse then she envisioned. Shaking herself from her own little world, Peony said, "Enough of this chatter. Let's go for that ride."

She took down her saddle from the tack and slung it on Surefoot's back. Making sure everything was in order she and Gwenneth led their horses out. It was late morning and soon noon would be upon them.

Peony mounted Surefoot and Gwenneth mounted Elenath. Peony took in a deep breath and stroked Surefoot's neck. "Nothing like a good ride to start the day off." She smiled as the horses walked along the trail.

The birds were chirping and many Hobbits were bustling about. A cloud moved across the sun throughing the land into shadows for a moment. No sooner had the sun disappeared that it came out from behind the clouds and shed light onto the path. "Anywhere you would like to go today, Gwenneth?"

[Mad Baggins]

Golden sunlight streamed in through the window. Mira yawned and opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the brightness gradually. When they felt good enough, she opened them all the way and sat up. When she turned her head and glanced out the window, she saw that the sun was already high in the sky. Mira slid out of the bed and stumbled over the the mirror that was hung on the walls. She looked at her reflection and saw a rumpled dress and messy, tangled hair. Mira felt in her pinny pocket for the comb that she had shoved in there. When her hand closed upon it, she drew it out and ran it through her hair quickly.

After combing her hair and braiding it, Mira smoothed her dress as best she could and walked briskly out of her room. Walking down the hallway to the Common Room, she was barraged with a multitude of smells; most of them made up of cooking food. Upon entering the room, she made straight for the bar where she ordered a plate of eggs and biscuits and a cup of coffee. After sampling her food (and finding it delicious), she scanned the room for any familiar faces. She spotted Lily and Willow sitting at a table with a newcomer, a woman. Picking up her dish and her cup, Mira sang out, "Lily! Willow! Good morning to you both!"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow paused in the midst of her conversation with Farren and Lily, as she heard a voice call out her name from across the hall. It was Mira, she recognized the hobbit from the night before. "Lily! Willow! Good morning to you both!" Mira called out.

Willow grinned, a wry smile on her face as she motioned for the other hobbit to join them. "Good afternoon is more like it, Mirabell Baggins!" She smiled broadly as she waved her over. "Mira, this is Farren," Willow said, introducing the other hobbit to Farren. "Farren, this is Mira Baggins, a friend of mine."

Mira took a seat, her rather late breakfast tipping dangerously as she sat it down on the wooden table. Willow half-smiled. She had thought that she had awoken late, but seemingly, Mira was an even later sleeper, thought it may've had something to do with the late night party. They had all been rather sleepy. And, Willow thought with a yawn. It looks like I could've used the sleep!

"Well, that's two of us hobbit girls," Lily commented casually. "Wonder where Daisy went."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, sitting back down. "I do wonder. It's nice to be with friends. So where were we?"

[starkat]

Pulling Elenath to a stop, Gwenneth thought for a minute. I wonder which way to go. I haven't seen much of the Shire at all.

Realizing that she had been quiet for a couple of minutes, she looked at Peony and said, "Any direction would be great." The two of them headed off on the nearest path.

[Firefoot]

"Lily! Willow! Good morning to you both!" Lily grinned at the familiar voice. Willow waved her over and spoke Lily's exact thoughts before she had time to speak: "Good afternoon is more like it, Mirabell Baggins!" Lily never could understand how other people could sleep so late. She was an early riser by nature, and almost always rose shortly after the sun even after a late night. And to think Daisy is still asleep! It's almost noon already, Lily thought with a glance outside. She frowned briefly noting the clouds on the horizon. It was such a beautiful morning, too. Out loud, she commented, "Well, that's three of us hobbit girls. Wonder where Daisy went."

"Yeah. I do wonder. It's nice to be with friends. So where were we?" Willow asked. Friends, thought Lily. Yes, friends. It seemed strange that she could spend less than a day with people and consider them friends, yet that was how she felt about the three hobbits she had spent last night with. She was feeling much more open with them than she had felt last night. She wasn't quite sure about Ferran yet, but Lily had an open mind.

"Hobbies," answered Lily after a moment. "And as to your question concerning writing, I prefer to read. In Bree, I would often spend hours with a good book from my uncle's library. He has several books, but never enough. My reading is one of the things that caused me to decide to explore, so I figured I had better start with the Shire." She ended with a soft sigh of happiness remembering the many wonderful stories adorning the shelves of her uncle's library. Her favorites had always been the ones about far lands and old heroes and valiant deeds, but those were the hardest to come by. Maybe she would find more if she decided to travel farther than the Shire. She hoped so.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu was shocked at Isaac's response. She didn't know what else to say. She couldn't bear the thought of it anymore. She turned to Isaac. "It was only a few years ago. We were traveling through Eryn Lasgalen. I know I told you there was no trees but there was. When we got to Fangorn Forest he disapeared. We was on our way back with a few supplies from my homeland." Adu lost all contempt in her voice. It was as if all she was, was a hollow shell with a voice. Adu motioned Isaac to follow her to where Count was.

"A few days later I found his horse and sword. The only reason that was found is because they were tied to a tree." Adu went on telling Isaac about how she had returned to Rohan companionless. "No one has traveled with me since." Adu had always been told that she was cursed with all her companions deathes. She didn't know what else to do.

Count was happy to see her. Yet it looked like Count didn't know what to think of Isaac. Adu placed her hand on Counts neck and began stroking his mane. Adu turned to look at Isaac who seemed startled. She didn't know what was wrong. "Isaac whats wrong with you? Count isn't going to hurt you." Her words didn't seem to reach Isaac. Adu snapped her elvish fingers but nothing happened. To her it seemed like he was in some sort of trance. Adu had neve been around someone like this before. She tried shaking him but nothing happened. "What do I do now?"

[Archsage Isaac]

I remember... everything. It's as clear as if it happened yesterday. Adu and I were traveling through Eryn Lasgalen when we were seperated. I had only left her side for a second. I tied my horse to a tree near the path and then pointed my sword in the direction I was going. I was attacked by that beast and knocked unconscious. But how did I kill it? How could I have, I was unconscious! Isaac's eyes were trained on a spot between Adu and Count. His amnesia was gone, but he was still as confused now as he ever was. Without warning he quickly reached and took hold of Adu's hands, slightly shocking her.

"Adu, I can remember the forest as clearly as if it were yesterday. The scents, the sounds, the sights. Everything. I still don't remember anything else though. Perhaps if you told me more then my latent memories will resurface, that is if you
don't mind helping me..." he said, still with that pleading look in his eyes. He was much to proud to say it, but he needed to remember and he needed her help in doing so.

[piosenniel]

Please remember the Shire is a Tolkien based RPG site. Characters and their actions are to be Tolkien-friendly and within the realm of possibility that Tolkien might have allowed.

There is to be no use of 'magic' in Shire Games.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel Shire Moderator

[Mad Baggins]

"Hobbies, eh?" said Mira. "Well, I love to read. And play my flute, of course. Riding my pony is lovely as well. I love riding in the morning; the way the sun gently warms the grass, melting the frost and lifting it away from the tender blades. The birds awake slowly, filling the air with soft chirps and sweet melodies; the sky becomes a magnificent, brilliant blue. Riding in the morning and watching the world wake up..." she trailed off, her blue eyes staring off into space dreamily.

Willow touched her shoulder gently, saying, "Mira? Wake up, Mira."

Mira shook herself out of her reverie, smiling at her comrades. "Sorry...sometimes I become lost in my thoughts. Where were we? Ah, yes, hobbies. You say your uncle has a library, Lily? I love reading all sorts of different books. What is your favourite? Mine has to be Far-Away Tales. It is quite a beautiful book; full of wonder and excitement."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

An uncharacteristically genuine smile came across Snaveling’s face at the mere thought of an attempt to claim the throne of Gondor as his own. He chuckled in a manner that was almost merry as he reassured Aman, “I do not intend to challenge the King, my friend.” He suddenly saw himself before the throne of the King, flanked on all sides by Elessar’s doughtiest warriors and the splendour of his court, and he saw himself hurling a challenge at the King and demanding that the Man who reigned in Minas Tirith step down from thence and yield to Snaveling of the Hunting Folk. His chuckle became a laugh, and his head fell back against the chair in his mirth as he contemplated the picture he had created for himself. When he looked back at Aman he could see confusion and amusement in her eye, so he explained what had made him laugh.

Aman smiled in turn to hear Snaveling describe the scene of his threatening. “Indeed,” she said, “I did not ask if you meant to challenge the King with any hope that you might succeed. But there are those yet in the world who would flock to the banner of one descended from last King of Númenór – although I doubt that you would find any of them to be trustworthy allies.”

“I am still learning of such matters,” Snaveling replied lightly, “so I will take your word for the truth and good sense that I know it to be. But I have yet to answer your true question, although you took care not to ask it as bluntly as perhaps it needs to be: why can I not keep my secret? There are two answers to that. The first is that there are already at least three people who know – Roa, Galadel and Toby. Roa is bound by her oaths and her duty to reveal what she has learned to her lord, and I would not ask her to deny those oaths, even if I thought there was a chance that she would. Galadel is an Elf and thus I do not know what she will do with the knowledge – but you can be sure that if it is a weighty matter she will take it to those among her kin who yet remain in Middle-Earth who possess the wisdom she deems necessary, and they will take counsel on the matter. As for Toby,” and here he smiled again, “I doubt not that if I asked the rogue to keep my secret he would…for as long as he could. Wine or age or forgetfulness would loosen his already infirmly fastened tongue and he would spread the tale of his friend the True King of Númenór to the patrons of the Inn. No, Aman, I am afraid that it is impossible to keep this as a secret now.”

Aman took this all in with a nod. She paused for a moment before speaking carefully. “You said that there were two answers to my question.”

Snaveling settled back into his chair with a sigh. “Yes,” he said slowly, “the second answer.” The sounds of people gathering in the Common Room mingled with the birdsong that came through the open window of Aman’s private lounge. Snaveling noted for the first time how different this room appeared in daylight. No longer was it the close and faintly foreboding place that it had seemed the night before, when it had been the scene of his confrontation with Aman. In a way, it seemed smaller in the light – certainly, much less threatening. The furniture, before solid and dark, was now comfortable and well-made. It occurred to the Man that perhaps the change had not been in the room, but in himself…

“The second answer,” he said again slowly as he fingered his amulet. He stood suddenly and strode to the window and stood there, looking out at the dawn of a new day as though he understood what it meant. “That’s a more difficult answer to explain, but I shall try. All my life I thought I knew precisely who and what I was – and what life was like and what my place should be in it. I had my dreams, but I never really believed in them; not in the way that people with a home and a safe place to call their own can believe in their dreams. But now I find that perhaps I am not the person I thought I was – that perhaps, just perhaps, I am more than that lonely Man who stumbled into this Inn all those weeks ago, with naught but malice in his heart and a gnawing hunger in his belly.” He turned to face Aman, and his eyes blazed with a cold flame. “I do not wish to deny who I am, not any longer. I may find the price of my new self-knowledge to be high, but I shall not shirk from the debt I owe my ancestors. I do not make any claim upon the throne of Gondor – but I will demand recognition from the one sits upon it.”

[Quicksilver_Sprite]

As the conversation meandered through the topic of hobbies, Farren felt a tad lost among the hobbits, until books were mentioned. Farren was on friendly terms with books, an imagined comrade to the heroes and next door neighbors, thrust into adventures that would ordinarily be out of the question. The transmutation of simple black ink into palaces of marble and ivory, creatures of unspeakable terror and sweeping vistas of unspeakable beauty was entrancing. "I love to read," said Farren abruptly, feeling that one of her favorite topics did not deserve to linger on the tip of her tongue, unspoken and soon forgotten.

"Really?" said Mira enthusiastically. "What kind of books do you like to read?"

"Anything is fair game, though poetry is a bit beyond me," replyed Farren, chuckling a bit as she remembered trying to get through a volume of particularly dull verse, becoming so bored that she had found herself reading the same line for the third time. "I have to say though that fairy tales are some of my favorites."

[Firefoot]

"Far-Away Tales is a good one," Lily agreed. "But my favorite? Hm. I love stores about the old days, about old kings and valiant deeds. I suppose my favorite book would have to be A Collection of Tales Concerning the Elder Days. My uncle, he said it was a real find because it had Elvish tales that weren't written in Elvish." Part of the reason Lily loved the book so was not because of the content, however. The book was beautiful, with a black leather cover and wonderfully crisp pages, and in and of itself held enchantment for Lily. "However, I will read anything that is a book," she said grinning. Lily's eyes were sparkling, as they had a tendency to do whenever she was enjoying herself or excited about something. "And yes, my uncle has a library. He has been collecting books for several years, sometimes travelling if there was one he particularly wanted, but more often buying them off of the many different people that stay in Bree while going through town."

Lily sat back with a sigh, and at once noticed two things. One was how different the Inn looked during the day with sunlight streaming in through the windows, and the other was how much cleaner the common room looked than when she had first come down that morning. Most of the tables and chairs had been put away, and there were no longer empty mugs sitting on the tables. She tuned back into the conversation, waiting for someone else to speak.

[nynnd1]

Bredan marched into his room and picked up his sword, he ripped it out of it’s sheath and the sound of the metal swiping through the air rang in his ears, suddenly all the anger, jealousy and frustration in his body bubbled up to the surface and he blew, letting out what he thought might have been the loudest roar ever heard in the shire, his lungs emptied upon the deep sounding thunderous voice that shook everything in his room. ‘Thud’ his sword ripped in the wood of the door frame. He sheathed his sword still angry as he run out of the room towards the bar, his heart telling him to get revenge upon Snaveling, his brain telling him to calm.

He did not like the fact that after getting over Iolet he was straight back in love……

Was it love, it felt like what he felt for Iolet, but was that love, or were they both infatuation, he did not really care at the moment, he was an angry man. He ran marched into the bar with his heart still willing him to find Snaveling, but his body seemed to take him to the bar. He summoned young Hobbit lass.

“One strong ale.” he said rather loud, and not exactly in the most pleasant way it could have been said

“Please” he added with after thought.

The Hobbit Lass seemed insulted by the way Bredan spoke.

“Sorry” He said as she placed the drink on the bar.

Bredan drank it all with no pause.

“And another, please.”

Bredan’s mind was thinking of what he should do now, he could always leave, go some other place.

“No, I like it here, I will not run again.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman bound up quickly, turning to Snaveling with her mouth open. The man did not turn. Approaching him slowly, she put one hand on his shoulder from behind. He did not stiffen, as the 'old' Snaveling would have done, but turned his face very slightly towards her.

"Well, why not?"

"Snaveling, you cannot! King Elessar...Snaveling, you obviously will have heard of the fall of men, am I right?"

He nodded slowly. "Somewhat..."

"Somewhat?!" she barked incredulously in reply. "Snaveling, you are descended from them that caused that - those that caused Numenor to sink into the sea and caused Men to fall from the favour of the Valar. Elessar...Elessar is practically sworn to kill you. And I'm sure I shouldn't like that very much," she added, smiling slightly. Snaveling only gave a small smile though, and when he turned, his face was still solemn and bore a thoughtful expression that the Innkeeper rather disliked.

"But my people...we were above his..." he replied slowly.

"You drove them into hiding, Snaveling! And yet you will go and ask him for land? For recognition? Oh, please, don't be...foolish!" Her voice was becoming more desperate now. But something flashed in Snaveling's eyes at this, some resentment or anger, and for a long, awful moment, the Innkeeper thought he would make some regal comment, remand her and make her bow before him...

But Snaveling was not stupid, and neither was he unkind and ungrateful. He still honoured Aman's kindness and, yes, her friendship. He sighed, the flash dying in his eyes, and turned to look out of the window again. It was a beautiful view, always one of Aman's favourites: the land on which the Green Dragon sat fell away in a smooth slope downwards to this side, meaning Aman's private rooms - her private parlour and room - were allowed a surprisingly farseeing view across the Shire. Of course, they were on the ground floor, so the view did not go as far as it might have done otherwise, but this window was wider than many. The ground was lower outside the Inn than inside it by about a foot, and so the Innkeeper was also afforded privacy when in her rooms: she could look out of the wide window and not be disturbed by people looking back. Suddenly, she was struck anew by how lovely and isolated the Shire was, untouched for all the strange folk that strayed through it. Turning to Snaveling, she held out a hand. "Come, I want to show you something, Snaveling."

He looked puzzled and even a little hurt. "Aman I...well, what about-"

"This is relevant, Snaveling. Well, sort of..." she added, wrinkling her nose, then became more serious. "Please?"

The Man looked a little bemused and shrugged. "If you think so, Aman..."

The Innkeeper grinned back and exited the parlour. Looking around guiltily, she noted that Brendan wasn't there - just as well, she wasn't sure how to explain. Wasn't sure she really needed to, actually, but still. Nodding back to Snaveling, she marched briskly across the Common Room and up the stairs, keeping a fair pace as the kept going up until she had reached the attic. Taking the stepladder with practised ease, she then looked back down at Snaveling as he followed more slowly. As he reached the top, he looked ready to ask for an explanation, but the Innkeeper held up a hand. "Ah ah...you'll see."

"You're being very enigmatic about this," he replied with an ironical eyebrow. She grinned back. "Yes, and probably a little childish. But please, Snaveling, I...I think you should see this," she ended carefully. Walking to the pretty round window, she deftly undid the latch and swung it open. Then, using the edge of the bed as a platform...she swung her legs out onto the ledge.

Snaveling gave a small sound of exclamation that made her look back, her feet dangling in mid-air, her hair whipped gently by the wind. He looked slightly horrified and certainly very confused now as he took an involuntary step towards her. "Aman, that doesn't look-"

"Oh, stop that. Anyway, you'd better watch how I'm doing this - you'll need to get up as well." Still sitting, she drew her feet up to her chest on the ledge and, after a silent count of three, stood, one hand on each side of the sill. The Innkeeper had done this enough times for her skirt not to get in the way significantly any more, but she was, of course, still very careful. Three stories was a long way to fall by anyone's measure. But the Innkeeper was not some dainty lady of leisure from the high circles of society in Minas Tirith: Amanaduial was something far more than that.

Turning carefully, swapping her feet over in their positions so she was facing the other way, the top window ledge coming up to her waist, she leant back, her fingers finding the easy notches some distance above the ledge that made it so easy for her to get up and placed one leg on the top ledge. With a smooth effort, she pulled herself up, moving one hand up to grasp the edge of the roof and shifting her other leg onto the top of the ledge as well, so her waist was now roughly level with the roof. After that, it was fairly easy to get onto the sloping roof, swinging herself up and sliding around.

Looking down, she called softly to Snaveling. "Snaveling, come up. It's lovely here - it's a place that's special to me. Come...look at the view, the Shire, Hobbiton, Bree...by challenging Elessar, you challenge all this. Look at my view..."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling paused for a moment on the window-ledge unsure if it were wise to follow the far more agile Innkeeper on to her precarious seat. But the prospect held by the excitement in her voice was irresistible, so holding his breath he followed her as best he could. His movements were far clumsier than hers had been, and had it not been for Aman’s quick reflexes and ready hand he would have fallen. But after much scrambling he was on the roof and looking out at the land as he had been directed.

It was, indeed, a breath-taking sight. He had scaled the White Mountains in his youth in pursuit of prey, but had never taken the time to enjoy the view that it afforded of the low lands between them and the Sea. Once, many years ago, he had crossed the Misty Mountains and seen the lands of Eriador laid out beneath his feet, but that land – for all its beauty – had been wild and empty, with only the occasional ruin to mark that any had lived there. This land, however, was full of people and cultivation. As far as his eye could see there were the signs of industry and harvest, of happily ordered villages and sensible roads. He understood then what Aman meant when she warned him against his chosen course of action. For this land, as remarkable as it might be, was only a small portion of the world over which the King Elessar ruled; it reflected only in the smallest part the order, wisdome and might with which he ruled his lands. Far to the South he knew that there were more and more lands like this, peopled with Men who would regard Snaveling and all that he represented as a threat to the well-ordered industry and society that they had built.

He turned to Aman. A gentle wind stirred their hair, lifting and mixing the strands together. The sun shone bright, but Snaveling could see on the horizon, and fast approaching, clouds that threatened rain. “I believe I understand what you are trying to tell me with this view, my friend. But I am afraid that I will not be deterred from this. One way or another, word of me will reach the King. If he is, as you fear, sworn to my destruction, then will he not send for me? If I am to die for who I am, I would rather that it come at a time and place of my own choosing, and not at the end of an assassin’s blade on a lonely road, unseen and unremarked. I know what you will say next, that I should present myself to the King in humility, and beg his indulgence. This is, I admit, something that I have done before, when pressed. But I will not do so now. I have told you already, and I will tell you again, that I will not seek to press my claim to the throne. But I will not deny who I am, nor will I give up on the dreams that have been my reason for living, now that their realisation stands so near at hand!”

Aman saw the determination in his face and sighed lightly in apparent defeat. “Snaveling, my friend, I do not think you do understand fully…but I see that you are not to be deterred.”

“No,” he said, “I am not. But do not despair for me – and strange it is indeed to me that you should! The crimes that you speak of are long in the past, and were practised by Men about whom I know practically nothing. Surely that will matter for something in the eyes of the King? The past means little to my people, and while I know that this is not true for other Men, I will continue to hope that I will be judged for what I have done with my own life, and not for who came before me. But there, Aman, if you wish to despair of my fate, then there is much that I have done for you to worry about. Am I not bound to Roa to appear before her King for judgement of my attempt upon her life? While such a matter may appear trivial to a High King when set alongside the enmities of history, I assure you that it is a far weightier matter to me than all the ancient tales put together!” The mention of Roa drove his mind back to his purpose in seeking out Aman. Looking back out upon the landscape, he began carefully. “It was about Roa that I wished to speak with you, Aman. I am afraid that she feels much as you did – that I wish to challenge her King. I fear, in fact, that she sees me now as a blood enemy. This causes me…regret – and I do not wish to feel such, regret. Do you think there might be some way for me to reassure her of my intentions? For as I am bound to her, I feel it my duty to be clear and honest. And,” he paused for a moment before resuming, “it is important to me that Roa understand my mind fully.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman glanced at Snaveling from behind her wind-whipped hair, before pulling it back and twisting it over her shoulder in one hand. "Bound to Roa..." she murmured. Snaveling looked sharply at her and she gathered her wits quickly.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that you are...bound to her. Her promise certainly. But-" she stopped, debating whether to tell him what she suspected the ranger woman felt. What if she raised a false hope, only to be dashed? She wasn't sure he was ready for that - when depressed or drunk, she had already found Snaveling to be dangerous. And besides, what was to say she wasn't wrong.

"But..."

"But...well, have you discussed it with her, Snaveling? No, don't dismiss it immediately. How do you know what she feels unless you have asked her?" The Innkeeper paused, looking back at Snaveling until the man looked away, his dark eyes roving over the hills far away. Shifting slightly, the Innkeeper drew her knees up a little on the sloping roof, rearranging her skirt as she thought then placing them carefully together on top of her knees. She looked back at the Man. "Snaveling, you must discuss it with her. And if nothing else...well, at least there will no longer be this fear and doubt. You will know her mind clearly, and that, at least, is something, if not something much.

"I am glad you understood why I took you up here, although I regret that you will not be swayed. But to march up to the king and ask for..." she trailed off, looking away. It was true that she understood Snaveling, but somehow she still feared for him. Strange, Aman - he is of the Hunters, more than capable of looking after himself. But still: Aman had seen something in Snaveling in the evening in her study when he had poured out his heart to her, and it was something that others did not see, something behind the hard-faces villain or mysterious figure in gentleman's clothes that others saw. Maybe Roa had seen one side but, whatever Aman felt, she wished for Snaveling's sake that Roa had seen the same side as Aman.

"Still, what do I know of kings and ancients?" she grinned cheekily then became more solemn again, her voice soft and sincere. "Talk to her, Snaveling. Tell her truthfully, do not hide behind riddles and mystery - you are apt at it, and that is not an insult! But...but you need to give her something more. Talk to her alone, as you have talked to me on here - tell her what you told me. If she does not believe you..." she shook her head, shrugging. "Go to Gondor with her anyway. If words will do nothing for her, actions will surely speak louder."

Resting her head back against her shoulders and neck, Aman spread her arms against the wind, her sleeves, wide skirt and hair blowing back in the wind as she closed her eyes. The tantalising smell of cooking food swept up in the breeze and the Innkeeper opened her eyes slowly, turning to Snaveling, who was watching her. "Ruby is going to skin me alive if I tarry for very much longer, my friend. Listen, bear in mind my words, please - all of them, Snaveling," she added meaningfully. He contemplated her for a second with that dark, enigmatic gaze, then nodded slowly. She smiled, then rose, holding out her arms to balance as she walked towards the edge of the roof with the confidence and agility of a cat.

"Then come, Snaveling - you just managed to get up, lets see how you manage getting down again. You cannot be that much older than me - lets see how one of your position can rival a horse-maiden of Rohan," she teased.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon
Ravon woke up and pushed the covers off of herself. She was glad it was the next day. With her eyes still covered in sleep she began to walk around the room until she tripped over someone. She rubbed her eyes to see that Lewis was still asleep. Ravon wasn't sure if she should wake him or not.

She quickly got dressed and decided that it was time for Lewis to get up. She walked over to him and gently shook the sleeping figure. Memories from the party still lingered in her head. Ravon could remember the dance they had shared together and how wonderful she had felt being in his arms. Even though her mind wanted to pass it off as a dream Ravon wouldn't let it.

"Lewis, dear wake up. It is morning already and you don't want to sleep all day now do you?" Lewis rolled over and Ravon began to smile. No matter how many times she had seen him wake up, Ravon still loved that part the best. She layed her hand in his as his eyes began to open. "Good morning, my dear Lewis of Rohan. I hope you sleeped well."

It had been a while since Ravon had her nightmare. Even though it had been a long time she still felt that it would haunt her for forever. Her life was at the best time she had ever had it. She had Lewis with her now and nothing or no one was going to take him away from her. At least thats what she thought. Ravon ran her hand along the ring she had given him the day that had met. Ravon never wanted her life with Lewis to end.

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis woke up. And when he opened his eyes he could see sunlight coming throught the window. He could also see the most beautiful face looking into his. He smiled. "Good morning, my dear Lewis of Rohan. I hope you slept well." Ravon said to him in a happy voice.

"Well yes, I did sleep well. Until I was so rudely woken up just now." Lewis said, jokingly. Lewis then shot a devilish little smile up at Ravon, and then he pulled her down to where he was. They play-wrestled for a minute, laughing all the while. "Well I guess I'll get up." Lewis said after a while. "If you wish it so."

"Well I do." she answered with her gorgeous smile.

"Alright, I'll get up." he said, "If you want to head on down and get some breakfast, I'll be down in a minute." She gave him a look. "I promise! How could I fall back asleep with all this sun streaming in here!" Satisfied, Ravon left the room. Lewis got up and got dressed, all the while thinking of how wonderful Ravon is.

[nynnd1]

Bredan was on his sixth mug of ale, and still going steady. He could feel people looking at him disapprovingly, he guessed for drinking this early and also drinking this much this early. The Hobbit lass behind the bar came near enough to him for Bredan to request what he had been requesting throughout the morning, though it was not what he really needed. A clear head would have served Bredan better, especially with his current circumstance, he was just about to find out what Miss Aman thought about him when they had been rudely interrupted, he had made up his mind, or rather the drink had made up his mind for him.

He had decided that Snaveling was an old flame of Aman’s, they had an argument, all Snaveling’s fault obviously. And now Snaveling felt jealous of Bredan getting close to Aman, for he saw the look in Aman’s eyes directed to Bredan. Bredan himself was not to sure what the look was, but Bredan after a few drinks was certain that she liked him. Bredan looked around the inn, people enjoying there selves, eating breakfast, talking about him and staring like he was some animal to be looked upon, in the corner there was a couple, laughing and kissing each other, Bredan could feel jealousy breaking down the walls of his heart and consuming him.

The door opened and a mass of morning light shot through and hit Bredan’s eyes, he squinted and turned away, blinking to try and get the light from his eyes.

“I will have another drink now please maid” Bredan directed his speech at the maid, he had started to slur his words, and his vision was no longer perfect.

“If you must” was the reply.

“Well I must, for this morning the ale is acting as a killer of pain for my heart”, or so Bredan thought all it was doing was raising jealousy and anger in his mind and heart. Bredan drank this one a lot quicker than any he had drunk before, as this thought stuck in his head.

“And another please” he slurred out to the maid.

“I think you have had enough” she said back.

“Oh ok.” His voice getting louder. “ You know when I have had enough, but is my custom not welcome here, am I not good enough for your service,” Bredan waited to collect his thought’s. “I have had enough.” He said getting up.

[piosenniel]

Please Note:

Time will move forward in the Inn tomorrow, Monday, early a.m.

At present it is mid-morning.

Tomorrow it will be moved to mid-afternoon.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Son of Númenor]

“Who am I?”

“I’ve no notion who you are, but what you are seems plain enough: a feckless vagrant, that's what!” said a voice in reply.

“Well, since you’ve no notion who I am, and I’ve no notion who I am either, I can only beg you to help me stand up, and perhaps offer me a cup of tea,” said the nameless man at length, cracking open his eyes and propping himself up on one sore elbow.

“Lor bless me, the nerve of some people these days!” cried a fat, chestnut brown hobbit. “You’ve had a good night’s rest on the top of my flower patch! Mrs. Longholes will grind you into mulch when she sees this! And you've got the boldness to ask me for tea?”

“I wouldn’t call it a good night’s rest,” said the nameless man. “Would you be so kind as to help me up at least?”

“I would,” said the hobbit, “but only because you are squatting in my wife’s favorite patch. If I saw you in the same shape anywhere else, I’d leave you for dead!”

The hobbit extended his plump, earthy hand. With more than a little effort, the nameless man lifted his much larger gloved hand and clasped the hobbit’s. Then, with a great sigh, he began to heave himself up off the ground. The task proved quite difficult, with the hobbit huffing and grunting as he pulled the much heavier Man. In the end, the hobbit’s efforts were in vain, and the nameless man had to summon all his strength to stand himself up.

“There, you’re up, and you’ve done in my back for good!” said the hobbit, glaring up at the man. “Now be off, and learn to respect other folk’s property.”

“No cup of tea?” asked the man, rubbing the back of his head and standing hunched over. He was a messy sight, his face haggard, his brown beard unkempt and his long dark hair clinging to his head in greasy disarray.

“Why you—you’d be lucky if I gave you a cup of spiders from my garden!” said the hobbit through clenched teeth.

“Very well,” said the man. “Can you direct me to an inn?”

“The Green Dragon’s just a short way down the street. Now be off, before I call Hal Whitfoot!”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” said the nameless man. Acting on some foggy recollection, he pulled four gold coins out of the left pocket of his tattered coat and handed them to the hobbit. “Perhaps that will pay for a few begonia seeds to replace the ones I slept on,” he said with a smile, and then was off.

He wandered down the unpaved road, past hobbit holes, garden patches and an old mill. The sun was still rising in the pale sky, and gusty wind was blowing from the east. Looking out from the vantage point of a small hill beside the path, he saw storm clouds brewing in that direction, riding the wind towards the Shire.

The Green Dragon was around a bend, a few yards removed from the path. The nameless man walked through the creaky front door, crouching to avoid hitting his head. Instantly, he was greeted with the smell of fried eggs, tomatoes and sausages, mingled with the stale odor of Longbottom Leaf smoked the night before.

“Good morning and welcome to the Green Dragon,” said a staggeringly beautiful and entirely unexpected woman. “Are you seeking lodging, breakfast or both?” she said, smiling pleasantly.

“Just a cup of tea,” stammered the man, feeling slovenly and intrusive.

“Have a seat at any table you choose,” said the tall, strikingly golden-haired young woman. “As you can see, we’re not particularly busy now- elevensies has just past, and lunch won’t be served for an hour or so. My name is Aman. What shall I call you?”

Unsure of what to say, the nameless man placed his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with the contents. His hand touched something strange, a hard sliver that chilled his palm even through his thick leather glove. Pulling it out, he saw that it was a small shard from a blade, with faded runes still visible on its dulled surface. A flood of images swept through his mind, with no clear pattern and no clear theme. Visions played out before his eyes of two riders on horseback, the mouth of a cave, a flash of metal and a man lying motionless on the ground, propped against the gnarly trunk of a great tree.

“Your name?” said Aman, looking rather uneasily at her guest. He came out of his momentary trance.

“Úmarth,” he replied grimly, feeling the name come to his lips from he knew not where.

“Have you been long in the Shire?”

“Long enough to be familiar with the Halflings, their land and their ways, at least, or so it seems,” he said at length. “At any rate, I think I may need to make accomodations for lodging after all. And I’ll take a pint of ale with my tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman inclined her head with a slightly bemused, polite smile. "A...pint of ale and some tea, coming up, sir," she replied, as if this was the most ordinary request in the world, before she turned towards the bar to fulfil the request.

Having come down from the roof with Snaveling about half an hour ago, Aman had been surprised and relieved that Ruby did not actually intend to skin her alive - indeed, the hobbit actually seemed gratified that Aman was still in Middle Earth, as she had been utterly unable to locate the Innkeeper. As for Aman, despite having been Innkeeper for what amounted to many months at the Inn, she was not entirely sure about who was actually in charge, her or her hobbit servers, and was strangely glad that Ruby hadn't told her off, something she had, ironically, expected.

It had taken some doing to get Snaveling down from the roof - he had been slightly worse at descending than ascending even, and once more had nearly fallen. He had certainly left the Innkeeper with a few things to muse on, anyway - for one thing, what was that secretive, knowing smile he had given her when she had said he 'couldn't be much older than she was'. Most odd.... The Man had taken his leave of her not long afterwards, vanishing, and Aman had not seen him since. Neither had she seen Bredan - and that was disquieting. She was worried about the impulsive Gondorian man...

Taking the pretty, dinky clay kettle off the stove just inside the kitchen as it came to the boil, Aman poured some into a teapot and let the brew stew for a few moments while she drew a pint of ale - this new man's second request. Taking teapot and cup in one hand and pint in the other, hooked a ready milk-jug with a spare finger before depositing the lot elegantly before Umarth and rearranging them into a neater order. "There you go, sir, some of the cook's finest Mulberry tea."

"Mulberry? Hmm." The single syllable seemed approving as the man took the cup, although his smile seemed rather worried still.

"Shall I put it on a tab, sir?"

A pause followed. Umarth seemed entirely taken up by stirring his tea.

"Sir?"

Evidently, there was something hypnotic about the stirring. However, much as it may have been Aman's heart's dearest, deepest wish to stand and watch the man stir his tea, the Innkeeper could feel her tired mind slowly being dragged into it's steamy depths... She tried again.

"Umarth?" she ventured this time. The man jerked up as if suddenly waking, looking a little confused for a split second as he peered at Aman. "A tab, sir?" Aman prompted.

"Ah yes....yes," he replied vaguely. Aman withdrew the hefty logbook from under the bar and slipped it onto the bartop in front of the man, to one side of his various beverages, producing a pen from her skirt and flicking deftly to the right page. "Alright, if you could sign here, and put your name in the Common...are you sure you're quite alright, Umarth?" The last part was added as she peered at the man's face. Frankly, she was curious - there was something very odd about this stranger. No doubt he'll fit right in...

[piosenniel]

Please Note:

Tomorrow, Monday, @ 9 a.m. Pacific time U.S., time in the Inn will move forward to midafternoon.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[SonOfBombadil]

Ferumbras looked at the little camp fire he had started with satisfaction. It had taken him much of the morning to get it going and to set up his invention. I may not be the best at starting fires, Ferumbras started, but I do know a thing or two about putting them out! He then turned towards the inn, about 30 yards away, to find Aman.

Ferumbras walked through the door, the smell of elvensies remnants, along with pipesmoke and freshly cut wood wafted through his nostrils. He scanned the room for the Rohirric innkeeper. Ah! There she is! Next to that.. um.. gentleman. The little hobbit scurried over.

Ferumbras started speaking in a business-like, yet friendly voice. "Pardon me misstress Aman, but I've set up a demonstration of my invention. If you and the other workers of the inn have half a moment, I'd love to show it to you in action." The sandy-gold haired hobbit smiled and hoped for a positive reaction.

[Gird]

Gird laughed a big and hearty laugh. "Does it ring any bells? Of course it does my dear miss. I used to work for your father, collecting stuff for his shop! I remember you now. You were only five or so last time I saw you. Now look at you, you've definitely grown up, that's for sure." Gird leaned back in his chair, marvelling at things past. He had only been a young lad at the time that he started working for Vahn. He worked for Vahn all the way up until...

"I beleive I was about sixteen when I left." Gird started. "The skills I had learned while looking for 'treasures' have certainly aided me in my life since then." A look came into Girds eyes as he reminisced about something. Or was it everything? his whole mysterious life and times before that seemed to flash all about him... He woke from his trance, and looked at Eleniel.

"They certainly have."

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon was glad to have Lewis there. After eating her breakfast Ravon walked outside to get some fresh air. It had been a while since she had gotten to walk outside without everyone else in the inn around. She turned to see that Lewis had followed her. Ravon could only smile at the only face she wanted to see. Ravon couldn't wait until she could go to Rohan with Lewis and see his home.

All she wanted to do was sit outside and enjoy nature all she could, while she could. Ravon wanted to stay with Lewis for as long as she could. "Lewis, perhaps there's more out there for us. Perhaps there is a life beyond the one we have here." Ravon's words trailed off in the wind. To her it was a beautiful day, even though she had heard that it was suppose to rain. She didn't care. The grass felt good on her elvish feet. She didn't have to worry about wearing any type of shoes.

Ravon remembered the first day she met Lewis and how fast she had began to like him. She knew that she shouldn't have done it but Lewis was there for her when she needed it. Lewis had helped change Ravon into what she was now.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"Isaac, I've told you all I know. I can't say anymore." Adu was furious since it seemed that Jack had come back into her life. "I try to forget it all. I have told you everything so now you'll have to figure everything else out on your own. I will not and I will never relive that part of my life." Adu placed the saddle on Count. She had decided that an afternoon ride would be good for the both of them.

She looked back at Isaac who was staring at her. Adu knew her words were harsh but wasn't suppose to strike him that hard. "Listen Isaac I'm sorry. Its hard for me to relive that part of my life. I can't stand it when I am forced to think of something so horrible." Adu wasn't telling Isaac the entire story.

Adu never saw his sword. All she saw was the horse at the tree. She had taken Rep back to Dorian. Jack had always talked about a brother he had, Adu had never met him. How many times will I have to remember that day. I can't tell Isaac everything. Isaac had a pleading look in his eyes. She couldn't handle it anymore. She told him about how Jack had told her that he wasn't going back to Dorian. Jack hated the way Dorian had treated Adu and wouldn't be able to see her being tormented. Adu was a great swordsman even if she was a woman but Jack didn't think Adu could last long under Dorian's command.

When she needed Jack the most he wasn't there. When Adu had returned with the horse Dorian had blamed her for Jack running away. Adu was made to clean up the stables, and wasn't allowed to join the others on the next journey. When I was punished for what Jack did, Hama was the one that stayed there to comfort me. I vowed that I would never go back to Jack or Dorian. When the day came for Adu to leave to find Crystal, Adu had decided that she needed to prove to Dorian that she could do it. She didn't have to rely on men to take care of her. She remembered being told that she was the elvish version of Eowyn.

"Isaac I only know that what Jack did after he abandoned me I don't know and I really don't care. I have had to live with the fact that when I needed him, he was never there. It's too late for him to come back to my life. I had almost banished him from my memories but you..." Adu stopped. She couldn't finish her sentence. What else can I do? Isaac will never make me remember the feelings I did have for Jack. All my emotions are dead now toward him. The day he left was the day he brought about his own down fall.

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac stood looking at Adu. He had listened to her story, listened to what she had told him about their past. "Adu, I'm sorry that I hurt you in the past, I shouldn't have. But you have to understand. I don't remember it, what I did to you or why I did it." he stopped and placed one hand on his sheathe. He turned his back to her and began to walk back to the inn, but stopped after taking a few steps.

He looked over his shoulder back to her. "Do you remember where you were born? Where you grew up, your family, your friends? All I was trying to do was possibly remember my past. I see now that I should have never tried to regain them. I should have kept my mouth shut and taken comfort that I have no memories but something drove me to try and find out. I'm sorry, Adu. Enjoy your ride, old friend." As he said these words, he turned and walked back to the inn.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The cellar was cool but still his efforts made Snaveling sweat. He had set
aside his outer garments before getting to work for fear of soiling them
overmuch. He had done some damage to them in his clambering about the roof
with Aman, but he was not yet so vain as to mind the slight snags and an odd
bit of dirt. It was just that he had spent a good amount of Toby's money on
the clothes and he wanted to protect them for as long as he could. And so he
worked, hauling empty barrels and casks up from the cellar and rearranging
the rest, in nothing more than a simple white shirt and breeches. He had
always been strong and lean - his life in the wild had seen to that - but
the last few weeks of good food and hard labour on the reconstruction of the
Inn had given his muscle both mass and tone. He was amazed by his own
ability to lift heavy barrels, and once, or so he thought, he had caught one
of the halfling lasses gazing at him with open admiration as he pulled a
huge barrel up the cellar stairs before slinging it onto his back and
carrying it into the yard.

Aman's words to him atop the Inn remained with him throughout his morning's
labour. He smiled several times as he remembered his reference to his age.
All of his people were long-lived, his own father had been well over a
hundred when he died, and Snaveling knew little of other Men, so it had
never really occurred to him that his 78 years was so much out of the
ordinary. His mind pursued this thought and connected it with what Galadel
had told him about Númenór and its descendants. If what she had said were
true then Roa, too, came from a long-lived people. He had assumed that she
was no more than a score of years of so, and this had added to his despair
of ever telling her how he felt - but if she were of the same kind and
manner as himself, she could easily be much older. This thought gave him
some comfort.but not enough to convince him to seek out the Ranger and open
his heart to her.

After a couple of hours’ hard labouring he paused in his work and went up to the
kitchen for a bite of food. He had eaten no breakfast for the swimming in
his head from the night before, but the air that he had breathed at the top
of the Inn and the sweat he had shed in its cellar had cleared his mind, and
settled his stomach. The serving maids, who had, among all the folk in the
Inn, been the most suspicious of him when he first arrived, had become used
to his presence. His time spent alone with Aman had also gone a long way to
calming their fears about his nature, as had - he could see - his
transformation of the night before. Buttercup had even taken a bit of a
shine to the Man, for he loved her cooking and would eat prodigious amounts
of whatever she gave him. "Good morning Master Snaveling," she said as he
puffed his way into the kitchen, still breathing hard from his exertions.

"Good morning Mistress Brownlock," he replied politely. "I have been slaving
away in that cellar for two hours of back breaking, arm-straining labour - do you
think you could give me somewhat to eat by way of breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" the hobbit gasped. "My my, but I'm afraid that breakfast is
well out of the question; so too is second breakfast and elevenses and dinner! But you're just in
time for an early tea!" And within moments, Snaveling was seated at the little
kitchen table with a plate before him, upon which was piled warm bread from
the oven, two large apples, a large wedge of a creamy yellow cheese that
smelled like clover, half small cold meat pie, and enough butter and honey
for three loaves of bread. Snaveling set to, and much to his surprise
finished the lot, chasing it all down with a small ale from what he was
assured was the Innkeeper's own private stock. He stood up and stretched his
tired arms out as far as they could go, "Thank you Mistress Brownlock," he
said. "That was a wonderful breakfast, no matter what you call it. But to be
honest I can't believe I ate as much as I did - now that was a labour to
match what I've done this morning in the cellar!" The hobbit lass merely
smiled at him before whisking away the plate and cup.

Snaveling still had work to do in the cellar and yard, but decided to take a
look into the front room to see if Toby were still there (which he suspected
he was) and if he wanted to join Snaveling in a bit of a smoke (which he
knew he would). He left the kitchen and walked into the Common Room looking
about for his friend, but there swam into his vision Bredan, who had clearly
had too much to drink. As soon as the Gondorian youth saw Snaveling his eyes
narrowed into a look of intense dislike and his fist began to twitch as it
had when Snaveling had interrupted Bredan's discussion with Aman earlier.
Snaveling knew that common sense, not to mention common civility, dictated
that he move away from the young man and avoid a confrontation. But
Snaveling did not feel like giving way to the man, the boy, really. For too
many years Snaveling had done just what he should do now: turn away, hide,
pretend to be chastened. And he was tired of doing that. Tired, and a bit
proud, now, of his ancestry, and of the mighty line to which he stood heir.
It occurred to him that this man was a subject of the King Elessar, and that
he would undoubtedly hate and fear Snaveling, if he were to find out who he
was. This brought Snaveling's back to rigid attention, and set his eyes in
his skull like glowing coals. When he spoke, he did so with disdain and cold
authority. "You seem to be in my way," he said, his voice like steel drawn
through fine cloth. "Stand aside so I may pass!"

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu noticed that the sky began to look like it was going to rain. She leaned down to Count and told her horse that plans had changed. Adu thought about where Hama was? It had been a day since he had left and she was already worried about him. She led Count back into the stables and took off the saddle. Isaac had returned to the inn and Adu thought she owed him a sort of apology.

After brushing Count Adu walked back to the inn to find Isaac. She saw him setting at a table all alone. "Isaac, I'm sorry about a few minutes ago. You don't understand what my life has been like since you left. I'm not even sure if I should call you Isaac or Jack. I'm not sure of anything anymore." All she knew was that her heart was with Hama and he would be returning to her with the position Dorian took for granted.

She told Isaac that he shouldn't be sad about finding his life. There was nothing he should regret. Adu had always felt bad about Jack leaving unti she met Hama. "Isaac, Jack, who ever you are. There is nothing to regret. There is a life somewheres for you but there isn't one here with me." Adu's tried to make her words sound sincere but didn't know how they sounded in the end. Adu still wished to go out for a ride but decided since the weather was getting bad perhaps she should just stay inside until the next day.

[Maeggaladiel]

Eleniel smiled as Gird spoke.

"Why sir," she said, "I believe I remember you! Forgive me, it has been many years and I did not recognise you at first." She remembered this man working in her father's shop, coming by to drop off goods and showing them to the his boss' brown-haired daughter. She had loved talking to him as he worked, although she was probably more of an annoyance to him than a partner in intelligent conversation.

"You should come back to Esgaroth some time, sir, and see the Raven's Nest. I've long since inherited it from my father, but it has changed very little since he retired. He has seen to that!" She gave a little laugh. The dog that had appeared at her feet wagged his silver tail, making a "thumpthumpthump" noise as it hit the wooden floor. Eleniel reached down and scratched his ears, and the thumping sound intensified.

"This is Arrow, my dog," she said. The silver wolfy-looking beast appraised Gird with a long stare. Then he struggled to his feet and licked Gird's fingers, showing his approval.

"Why did you leave Laketown, Gird, if I may be so bold as to ask? We have missed you."

[Archsage Isaac]

"Isaac, Jack, who ever you are. There is nothing to regret. There is a life somewheres for you but there isn't one here with me." Adu told Isaac. He could tell she was struggling to sound sincere. He looked out of a nearby window and watched the clouds. He thought it was slightly ironic. It had looked stormy the day they were seperated and now it looked stormy the day they were reunited. Isaac smiled for several moments but soon stopped and turned back to Adu.

Isaac shook his head before speaking. "Adu, I never planned on leaving you permanently. I was going to return to you as soon as I could, but I was attacked...I don't know. It's easy for you to say that there's a life for me somewhere. I'd wager that I could say that as well if I knew my past. I have no life, I've nowhere to go." He leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

It's true. I have nowhere to go, I have no one. I shouldn't stay here any longer, I should leave. I must leave, perhaps when the weather is better... he thought as he stood back up. Before Adu could reply to what he had said, he began to speak again. "Adu, you're right. I have no life with you now and I will pester you no longer. I will be leaving in two days, until then I will be around here. If you wish to talk, you're welcomed to try and find me." he walked out the door of the inn after he said these words. His eyes traveled and looked once again to the sky. Despite the impending bad weather the sky brought him a small feeling of comfort. Isaac walked over to one of the trees. It would do. The lowest branch was still quite a ways out of his reach. Isaac crouched down and jumped with all his might, quite easily catching hold of the thick branch and pulling himself up onto it. It was here that he sat, watching the patrons inside the inn.

[starkat]

Having noticed the changing weather Peony and Gwenneth arrive back at the stables. Dismounting and heading into the stables, Gwenneth turned to Peony, "That was a wonderful ride. Thank you for going with me."

At that moment Elenath stumbled inturrupting Peony's reply. Quickly checking over her horse, Gwenneth noticed a loose stone on the ground and realized it was the cause of the stumble.

[symestreem]

The rain drove symestreem inside from where she had been walking. As it was, her cloak was wet through. She hurried up to the bar, scribbled a message on her slate, and slid it across.

Can I have a glass of whatever hot drink you have back there?

In a moment, a cup of hot tea was slid across the bar to the mute woman.
Thanks.

She looked for a seat by the fire where she could dry her cloak. Was that one next to the dwarf? Holding her tea with one hand and her slate with the other, she wove her way through the mass of tables. Was that a fortune-teller? He was staring at his teacup intently enough, and he certainly looked disreputable enough. Or perhaps he had imbibed too profusely of the glass next to him.

A drunken hobbit lurched in front of her and she dodged to avoid him. In the process, she bumped the man's table rather heavily. His cup of tea went over and spilled down her back, but the man grabbed the bottle before it could join the fun. Luckily, the tea was cool enough that it did not scald her.

I'm sorry! she scrawled, and placed the slate on the table. Here, take my cup, I think we have the same thing. Her cup joined the slate on the table. He seemed to not even notice. After watching his face for a minute, she retrieved her slate.

At least she was warm. She might as well put the cloak out in the rain to wash out. As symestreem headed back towards the door, she received some odd looks from the other people.

[Kitanna]

Peony and Gwenneth returned from their ride. Peony had enjoyed the ride
with Gwenneth and the conversation that had occupied it. They spoke of
many things, from the weather to the passing of the Elves to the Grey
Havens.

The two returned their horses to the stable. Peony removed Surefoot's
saddle and began brushing her off. Gwenneth did the same. The elf
whispered elvish things into her mare's ear.

Peony just talked to Surefoot like she was a person. "Been my friend
all this way Surefoot. I hope you enjoyed the ride." The horse nudged
Peony's chest. "Be good and I'll bring you back an apple."

She looked over to Gwenneth, "I'm starving. Want to go and get
something to eat?"

[starkat]

"That sounds good," the elf maid replied. Turning to her horse, Gwenneth made sure the stall door was securely fastened. Following Peony, the two of them went into the inn.

On their way down the path, they noticed a woman hanging out her cloak to wash clean in the rain. Calling out to her Gwenneth asked, “We’re headed inside for something to eat. Would you like to join us?”

[symestreem]

Symestreem turned as she was addressed. She realized she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and nodded her head to indicate assent. She tried to write Yes, thanks on her slate, but the water washed away the words and dampened her slate pencil.

So she ducked inside and handed the slate to the two as they passed her. Then she followed them to a table, being careful not to lose her balance.

Drat, she was soaked again. Well, it was warm in the common room. She'd dry off soon. She cast a strange look at the one she thought was a fortune-teller- he was still staring at his cup. Then the mute musician felt hunger pangs and hurried to catch up with the others.

[starkat]

Gwenneth pulled out a chair for the woman. As she and Peony sat down she introduced herself, “My name is Gwenneth. This is my new friend Peony. What is your name?”

As the other woman dried her slate off, Gwenneth looked around the room taking in the scene. Fingering the jewel she wore around her neck, she realized that her companions were trying to get her attention.

[Arwen Eruantale]

Niara walked in silently, her black rangers cloak leaving small drops behind her; it had been too long since she had been in human company, or any company for that matter. She slipped across the room, straining to seem as comfortable as she was not, and seated herself in a corner near a window. The sound of rain outside soothed her, she loved it, so real, quieting and constant. She asked for an ale.

When it arrived, Niara thanked the server, who smiled, then pulled back her hood as the maid left. She undid the knot that held it fast when she traveled, and her deep brown hair tumbled down, far past her shoulders, in swirls and ringlets; a few rested against her ruddy cheeks, and some landed over her shoulders and rested on her breast. She closed her eyes and sipped her ale. Trying to melt into the shadows where she belonged. But something would not let her.

As the only daughter of a ranger, she had learned by example how to use her senses at heightened levels. And then the war had come... everything had been destroyed. Her home, her life, she was alone. Left with nothing but the love she held for those that had kept such sorrows as her own from overthrowing the whole of Middle Earth. The great king himself had been a ranger, Niara wondered often whether he had known her father.

The liquid blue spheres of her eyes stared blankly about as she pondered these things, having long since given up trying to forget them. She saw her brother, her father, so handsome both of them. And her mother... They were all gone. She was filled with regret for the spitefullness she had shown them, yet they had all praised her other virtues, patience, dignity, courage... none of which she could herself see. She was too late to stifle the single tear that slid down her cheek.

All at once, as reality filtered in through her visionary daydreams, she noticed that her ale glass was empty, and there was someone watching her...

[Kitanna]

"Symestreem," Peony said, reading the off the slate. "Very nice name indeed." Peony looked around the inn for a moment trying to find Deva, but no sign of him anywhere.

"So, where do you come from Symestreem?" While Peony waited for Symestreem to scribble down an answer she turned to Gwenneth, "What shall we have for lunch." She waited patiently for both to answer.

[starkat]

"I'm in the mood for some soup since it's so wet outside." Gwenneth leaned back in her chair. "What about you?"

Hearing the door open, the three companions turned and watched as a woman in a dark cloak entered the room. Realizing that symestreem had finished, Gwenneth and Peony returned their attention to her.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu was alone once again. Isaac had walked outside and she didn't have an idea of what to do now. She could tell that she had struck a nerve. Adu decided that she shouldn't have any hard feelings toward Isaac or Jack. She had to give him another chance to be her friend. Even if it meant going through the trouble again. Adu got up and walked outside. She noticed that Avalon, Cree's crow, was flying around a particular tree. "What have you found bird?"

Adu walked over to the tree and saw that Isaac was sitting on a branch. Adu didn't know if he had seen her or not so she began to shake the bottom of the tree. Before she knew it Isaac was laying on the ground beside her feet. Adu did everything she could to keep from laughing but her laughter couldn't be contained. First it was just a giggle then it became a full out laugh. She felt someone grab a hold of her ankles and the next thing she knew she was laying on the ground.

Adu wasn't use to having her friend back so she just looked at Isaac and saw that he found it funny. Adu didn't know whether to laugh or get angry. "Isaac you don't have to leave. Stay here for a while. Our dear friend Hama will be back in a few days. He will be relieved to see that you are alive. Then if you wish to leave you can. After all I will have a new General to look after. General Hama of Rohan. Oh how I missed those days." Adu went on talking about the past and thinking about what would happen when Hama did get back. Would he be angry with Isaac because he left me alone and never came back.

Oh Hama I wish you could have waited a little bit before leaving me. All I want is to have you back. Perhaps some day I can forget my past and start everything over anew. Oh wouldn't life be so much better. She looked at Isaac, everything was better now that she had her friend back and Hama was going to take over Dorian's position.

[Arwen Eruantale]

There were two of them. Just watching. What did they want?

She requested another ale, and tried to absorb herself in it. But they were still watching, and now they were talking. A third, presumably another of their companions, now turned. Niara dared not imagine what she would do if they approached. If only she had a magic ring, she could be invisible, float out of the room like a cloud...But that was impossible.

Her right hand strayed down to the hilt of the knife that hung at her side. A comfort, though she would not dare use it. Surely the occupants and visitors of so pleasant an inn could not be unfriendly. Her left hand swept softly across her lightly freckled complexion, removing the droplets left by the rain. She took another drink.

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac looked at Adu and slightly shook his head. "Adu, you know I don't remember who Hama is, nor do I know what you mean by a new general to look after." he said, lying back on the ground and looking up at the sky. He turned his head and looked at Adu and smiled, but soon stopped again and was just as serious as he ever was.

"Adu, you might want me to stay but why? You said it yourself that I have no life with you and that your life wasn't so goodd after I left. Why would you want me to stay and then leave again? Would that not cause you pain again?" Isaac asked. He reached over and took hold of one of her hands in his. "I don't want to cause you anymore pain, Adu. However, if you honestly want me to stay then I will stay, for you..." he added, staring deep into her eyes, "...because I get the feeling that some of your old feelings are resurfacing."

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama looked up at the sky, he had been riding for nearly a day, nearly non-stop. He was at the misty mountains, the halfway point in his journey and had already started riding along them...he sighed and strolled over to his horse that he had been letting drink in the river. He saddled up once again and started riding, he hadn't far to go now, maybe he would reach Rohan even this evening, then a day of rest and recuperation, then two days back to the Dragon. He smiled and wondered what Aduthondiel was doing now, probably enjoying herself, he mused.

He set off at a gallop, pressing his horse harder and harder to ride. He whispered "Come on, come on" in Rohirric into its ear as he bent forwards to its neck. He looked up and saw mountains running down his left for miles, all he could see were mountains...it was a long way to go...

[symestreem]

Soup is fine. Everything they have here is good. Then she remembered Peony's other question. I come from west of here. My family has a small settlement in the empty lands.

She looked around and signaled for one of the servers. And where do you two hail from? It is strange indeed to find an elf on the borders of the Shire. One of the merry hobbit lasses came up and took their orders, returning shortly with steaming bowls of soup.

Are either of you musicians, by chance? She pushed the slate over to her table mates and started on her soup.

[starkat]

One of the servers came over and as they placed their orders, Gwenneth fiddled with the jewel around her neck. "I am from a little of everywhere. My parents travel and my brothers live near the sea. In my family when we reach a certain age, we set out and travel for a few years. I am just beginning my travels."

"In answer to your music question, I am afraid I do not play an instrument. I wish I did. My brothers both play flutes and my mother the harp. I do sing a little. What insturment do you play?" Turning to Peony the elf maid asked, "What about you? Do you play an instrument?"

[Kitanna]

Peony smiled, "Yes, I play the flute." She remembered the first time she picked it up. She could not put her father's flute down so he finally gave in and gave it to her. "I have been playing for some fifteen years. As for your other question, I come from Minas Tirith."

Once again Peony scanned for Deva. She saw him sitting in a corner eating. "Do you travel alone Symestreem?"

[Firefoot]

Dark clouds had moved in front of the sun, and Lily was feeling a little bit chilled. She was also stiff from sitting in her chair for so long. She stood up, stretched, and said, "I'm going to go get some tea. Would any of you like some?" Willow, Mira, and Ferran all politely declined. Lily wandered over to the bar. She was in no hurry, and it felt good to stretch her legs after sitting so long.

"I would like some tea, please," she said to the Hobbit server. Lily grasped the cup that was given to her, and it instantly warmed her hands. She took a sip. It was nice and hot. "Thank you," she said. She carried her tea back over to her table, being careful not to spill. She sat down at the table again. As when she had first sat down, silence had taken over the table. Now what do we talk about? Lily tried desperately to think of something. The silence was getting to her. She took another sip of tea.

"How long do you all expect to be staying at the Green Dragon?" she asked at last. "And Willow and Mira, how long have you been here?"

[symestreem]

I usually travel alone, because not many go where I go. I have traveled with others before, she wrote as she ate her soup. It seemed to be some sort of vegetable stew, with fennel added. I play the pipe, the fiddle, the accordian, and the piano. If I can ever find another one of those she wrote, wishing she could put emotions into the impersonal letters on the slate. And you? Do you two travel alone?

She frowned as she focused on a woman in a ranger cloak who was sipping a drink and staring around the room suspiciously. Was that a knife she was reaching for? But the woman's hand came up empty. Her gaze continued to roam the room, and symestreem did not miss the fact that she was sitting with her back to the wall, not far from the man absorbed in his tea.
Who is that over there? she mouthed to her companions, as they were still reading the slate.

[starkat]

Looking up from reading, Gwenneth looked over where Symestreem had gestured. Seeing the woman in the dark cloak, the elf maid took a closer look. “I have not seen her before, but isn’t she dressed as a ranger?”

Taking the final sip of her soup, Gwenneth sighed, “That was wonderful. I travel alone right now, because I have just begun my travels. I have always assumed that when I made friends along the way and if we were going the same way, we would travel together for a time.”

All of a sudden, a small man scurries up to Gwenneth. "A letter for you my lady," he said before he ran off. Opening it Gwenneth's face went pale. Her companions looked at her. "What's wrong?" Peony asked.

Looking up from the letter, Gwenneth said, "It is a letter from my oldest brother. My mother needs me for a few days. If you will excuse me I must leave." Turning to Peony and handing her the room key, she asked, "Would you give this back to the innkeeper and explain that I had to leave. I will return, but right now I must go." Smiling at symestreem, she bowed and then took her leave.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow nodded sharply as a rumble of thunder hit sharply. She jumped, realizing that Lily had been talking. "Oh!" she said, sitting up sharper. "I'm so sorry, Lily, I'm afraid I must've dozed off. What were you saying?" she asked, wincing. It wasn't exactly a pleasurable thing to fall asleep in one of the hard wooden chairs, and Willow founf herself to be quite sore now.

"Who long have you been here," Lily repeated, a hint of frusteration underneath her friendly air. The other hobbit sipped at her tea as she looked at Willow.

"Oh." Willow stopped, counting in her mind. Thunder rolled in the distance, and there was a feel of rain in the air, she noted. "I've been in Hobbiton a few days, I had stayed with a cousin of my father for a few days, and then here, for two days. I arrived the day of the party, and didn't know anything about the fire until then."

She sighed, straighened her hair which had falled into quite a mess-- she hadn't braided it very well that morning, and it was into the afternoon now. There was a faint sound of rain tapping on the roof as the clouds began to break fourth. And it was well, they did need some of the rain, the land always could use it. It was gray outside now, and the clouds were thick, hiding all trace of the eariler sunlight that had lit the area.

"And what of you, Lily?" Willow asked. "How long have you been here?"

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Hama please hurry. Adu couldn't stand it any longer. "Go Isaac if you must. Its like I said my feelings for you have died away." Adu was angry and did her best to hide it but felt that it wasn't enough. She pushed herself up and went to the inn. Adu knew that if she had stayed any longer something bad would have happened. Her sword was still at her side and even though she wasn't one for an arguement she wasn't goign to sit there and let him tell her about herself. Adu got herself a mug of ale and went to sit all by herself.

There are so many things I need to sort out. I'll never have feelings for Isaac. He's not my Jack. For all I care Jack is dead. No matter what she tried she couldn't calm herself down. She really needed the ride with Count but the weather still didn't look real good. Adu wondered where Crystal could be. Perhaps she's with Angry and their life is so much better than mine is now. Adu got lost in the reflection her ale was giving off. She sat there staring at her ale and didn't pay attention to what was going on around her.

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac stood and watched Adu go back into the Inn. He'd struck another nerve. He thought about going into the inn to try and apologize, but decided not to. He'd spoken his share already, there was really nothing left for him to say. Her words had cut him like a knife. He walked back over to the tree he was sitting on earlier. He layed his head against the tree and closed his eyes, trying to think.

"What have I done? I've got to make things right before I leave." he said as he walked back into the inn, more precisely over to Adu. "Adu, I'm truly sorry. But take joy, you'll not see me again. I've decided to move my departure up to tonight, that is unless you have some specific reason for me to stay. I'll leave you to Hama. Good bye, Aduthondiel." he said. He slightly bowed and turned, walked back out the door, and sat near it, silently awaiting nightfall's approach...

[symestreem]

Symestreem looked after the departing elf maid. I hope everything's all right with her, she wrote. There's not much that will alarm an elf....
May the winds speed you on your journey she thought, although Gwenneth was not sailing. The sentiment was the same.

She caught the server's eye and, through signs, asked for something to drink. Then she excused herself to go retrieve her cloak.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Having followed Arrow into the Inn when he refused to stay in the stables, and explained to Eleniel why he was wandering about, she had returned to her horse. She'd not bothered with a saddle and rein, like ever. Annufin had never taken to them. Instead she had gone bareback, using her legs and spoken commands. Years of practise rearing and riding horses had taught her to ride without a saddle and rein.

Now she returned to the Inn, the rain gliding off her waxed black cloak. She groomed her mare, fed her, and went into the Inn.

As soon as she was in, she flicked off the black cloak and hung it up, revealing the warmer one underneath. The waxed cloak was fine for the wet, but for warmth and comfort she had to have the other. She then sat on a stool by the bar, and ordered an ale. Unusual for her, as a rule. She preferred a clear head, but she was confined here by the weather.

Noticing the woman in the black cloak a little further down the bar, she shuffled along a few stools. "Care for some company? Though you look like a loner, so feel free to tell me to get lost. The name's Elkamia, by the way." She hoped she'd get a reply, and not sit there feeling like an idiot.

[Firefoot]

Lily was puzzled by her own frustation. Why am I so irritable all of a sudden? she wondered. Another peal of thunder rolled in. Lily shuddered almost imperceptibly. She hated thunderstorms. That must be it. The rain. And the late night yesterday evening. Willow's probably as tired as you. No wonder she dozed off! Lily took another sip of tea, hoping the warm drink would help. Tea was usually very soothing, but her mood was still a bit cloudly, like the sky. Still, she tried to remain friendly and not let it show.

"I left Bree, oh, 10 days ago," said Lily, smiling. "I only arrived in Hobbiton yesterday evening. I'll probably be staying for a week or so. Maybe longer or shorter. I really don't have any plans for my trip to the Shire. What about you three? How long will you be staying?" Lily asked, as if she had not already. She figured Willow hadn't heard that part either. She took another sip of tea and brushed back the same wisp of hair that she had gotten out of her way earlier. Calm down she told herself. No need to be so edgy. It's only a little thunder. Just relax, and enjoy your chat.

[Kitanna]

Peony found herself sitting alone at the table. She finished off her soup and leaned back in the chair. She looked around the room, Deva had left, probably to take a nap. Lazy Dwarf, she thought.

Looking over she saw the woman ranger who Symestreem and Gwenneth had been watching. She smiled and gestured to the seat across from her. Maybe she could talk to Niara. Or maybe the ranger would ignore her and Peony would be stuck sitting alone in the common room.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu didn't like what Isaac had to say to her. Even though she was a little angry at him she couldn't stand to see him leave again. She slowly got up and walked outside to find Isaac. She knew he hadn't noticed she was there.

"Isaac, I didn't appreciate what you said. I don't want to loose you again." The coldness in her voice was enough to freeze his bones. All Adu wanted to do was keep her friends close by. "So what do you say. Stay a little bit."

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac looked up at Adu, he looked as if he was staring into her very soul with those cold blue eyes of his. "Adu, you sound sincere enough, but just please tell me why you want me to stay." he said, more like pleaded, to Adu. He looked back into the forest, more precisely the tree he'd been sitting earlier. Avalon was perched there, the crow seemed to be shifting it's gaze between Adu and Isaac. Isaac brought one of his legs closer to him and rested his arm on it.

Isaac shook his head and almost laughed. He quickly stopped himself though for fear of Adu thinking he'd gone mad. "Adu, if you insist on staying out here with me you may as well have a seat." he said then brushed off an area beside him and smiled, inviting her to sit. At first she refused but then changed her mind and accepted his invitation. "I used to often wonder what I was like before I lost my past. How I acted, what I used to do, if being your Jack had any affect on who I am now or not. I finally realized that I'm not who I am because of my past, I'm who I am because it's what I want. Now I'm beginning to think that I'd give almost anything to be Jack once again..." As he said these words he looked over to Adu, who was watching him intently, she had a look on her face like she didn't know what to do about anything anymore, a confused look. "A penny for your thoughts? I'd offer more, but I don't have anything else." he said, slightly chuckling. It wasn't meant to be funny, but it brought a slight smile to Adu's face...

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled at Lily, her soft brown eyes seeming to look right through the walls, and to the land beyond the inn, where rain was softly falling. The skies were now gray, and clouds were even thicker, a light rain falling, and thunder heard in the distance. "I do not know how long I will be staying," she answered softly. "I may stay on longer, but then again, I may not. Actually, I intend on leaving for a while, and then to return later if possible, I have to return to the North Moors for a while, in a few days."

Her face remained friendly, though there was a hint of tiredness in her eyes, and her smile faded from her face. She looked longing, almost, wishing for something, maybe. She bruched her hair back, and sighed, looking around, her eyes still soft, and her expression unreadable. "Who knows," she said softly. "Maybe I'll be able to go to Bree some day, and see your town. I do indeed wish that I could."

Willow smiled faintly, thinking of the parts of the Shire that she called home, and of the rain. Her mind was cluttered up with so much, and her thoughts led her everywhere. She fidgeted with her hair mindlessly, as she smiled. Willow shifted slightly; her leg cramped from sitting so long, and even falling asleep.

She yawned. The later nights were catching up to her, and the rain called for laziness, just sitting around and idly talking. Willow was actually quite shocked to see that someone had left, even in the rain, though she herself quite liked the feel of raindrops splashing down from the sky, to hit her gently on the face.

She was almost too tired to think of even going outdoors now. Yawning, and brushing her hair back again, she turned to Lily, and asked: "Why is it that you came to Hobbiton anyhow?"

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu didn't know what to tell Isaac. It seemed like she wanted Jack back but didn't want a close friend like she did before. "It tore me up the last time you left. I didn't know whether or not I was going to see you again." Adu moved her hand up to place her hair behind her ear. "What else do I have to do to prove to you that our friendship is still very strong. I don't care if you can remember who I am and what happened after you left. All I want is to have my closess friend back." Adu couldn't change the way her words came out. The cold-heartedness still remained.

Adu thought she heard Avalon shriek but noticed it was just the wind. Perhaps a crow had just captured its dinner, Adu wasn't sure anymore. Adu could have left with Hama, but she didn't. Hama wanted her to stay here. Even though her thoughts rested on Hama she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Isaac when he left her. Anything could have occured but yet again someone could be playing a trick on her. The only thing she could do was to believe Isaac and believe that what he was telling her was true. Adu stared at the tree line and began to get lost in each different leaf.

What if what he says to me is all a lie? I can't think of that now. It would kill me to know that somewhere out there is my Jack. I would love it if this was Jack's brother and not Jack. Everything would be ok then.

[Arwen Eruantale]

Perhaps due in part to the ale, though such things had never had much effect on her, Niara began finally to relax. Two of the Watchers at the bar had departed, in haste that should have caused wonder; but by the look of she who left first, it was a personal matter. The last glanced her direction, but seemed disinterested--or perhaps troubled. She decided not to bother about it, she was safe here.

She leaned forward, her delicate, weatherworn fingers tracing the knotted patterns of the wooden table. The light shining through her glass of ale projected intricate, translucent patterns that played on its surface. She began an invisible outline of an eye... his eye. Warm and brown and deep... She concentrated, her dark ringlets falling and creating a thin curtain on either side of her face. Shielding her from as much of her lonliness as she could concievably imagine.

Suddenly she realized someone was speaking to her. And it wasn't the server. She looked up, the strangers eyes were questioning, nervously. Niara hadn't been listening, what had she said? She searched her memory...Chiding herself-- if this maid had been an enemy, she would be dead. Ah, there it was...

Now to answer.

"Please, stay." she said. "I am Niara." She wished she could smile.

[Archsage Isaac]

"What else do I have to do to prove to you that our friendship is still very strong. I don't care if you can remember who I am and what happened after you left. All I want is to have my closess friend back." Adu's words hit him like a brick wall. He wasn't suprised by her tone, he deserved nothing less than that. He couldn't help but smile though.

"Adu, I'm right here. I may not be the Jack that you knew, but at least I'm here." he said. Isaac was as truly sincere as he could be with what he said next. "I won't leave you again, I promise you this. Unless, of course, you want me to leave." He laugned again, this time it was more of a nervous laugh than anything else. Adu looked at him in dead silence. "I take it from your silence that I told you that once before?" he said as he once again found himself staring at her...

Isaac looked away and back at the clouds. From the look on Adu's face she didn't fully trust Isaac. "Adu, I sense that you don't think that I'm sincere when I say that I am... was Jack. No, I guess that I am Jack, just with a new name. You can trust me, I'm not lying to you, Adu." he said once again looking to his left at her.

[Feared Half-Elf]

"Nice to meet you, Niara." Elkamia smiled, pleased that she hadn't been completely ignored. "Are you staying here long?" She didn't usually speak to many people like this, but had loosened up when she had realised that not everyone in the world, particularly in the Shire, was out to slide a knife between her ribs. She'd relaxed, and had the courage to speak to strangers.

She sipped at her ale, savouring the alcohol. She was usually one for wine, but so many things had happened here, so many things were done differently, that she'd felt like ale tonight. And wine sometimes made her look like a pansy, so to speak, when she was anything but. If some of the people who'd ridiculed her for drinking wine in the past could have seen her on the battlefield, they'd soon change their mind. Elkamia's attention returned to the woman next to her.

[Firefoot]

As the conversation drew on, Lily became more and more curious about Willow. It seemed to Lily that for all of her friendly, positive exterior Willow had experienced a lot of sorrow. And then there was the comment last night about the fiddle... Hm. I guess I'll just have to wait and find out, thought Lily. "Why is it that you came to Hobbiton anyhow?" asked Willow, yawning again.

"Well, my uncle travelled quite a bit when he was younger. He told lots of stories. No one ever knew if they were true or not, but they were good stories anyhow," Lily began, chuckling. "I guess I always sort of wanted to see the places he talked about. And the places in his books. It got to a point, I suppose, that Bree seemed too familiar. Like there was nothing new to see. So I decided to see the world, or some of it, anyway. Uncle Longo, he said I should start with the Shire, to see if exploring was really for me, and he recommended the Green Dragon as a good place to start. So here I am," Lily finished. She took another sip of tea, and ruefully realized it was nearly gone. It was good tea, too. I'll just have to get some more later, she decided.

"And you? What brings you to Hobbiton?" Lily asked. She glanced at Mira and Ferran. Lily felt kind of bad for excluding them, but they didn't appear to be listening anyway. Not my problem, she decided. They can join in if they want.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling moved away from the scene of his confrontation with Bredan with something like victory in his eye. He was glad that it had not come to blows with the young man, for he had come to value the good opinion of Aman and would have…regretted doing anything that could earn him her approbation. As he came into the Common Room he saw Toby at his usual table, leaning his head back against the wall and smoking his long and elaborate pipe. The old fellow’s eyes were closed but Snaveling could tell from where he stood that he was not asleep. For the first time since he was a child, Snaveling felt something stir in his breast that was akin to genuine affection. Of all those who had given so much to the Man in his time at the Inn, it was the friendship and good humour of the gentlehobbit that had perhaps done the most good. With Galadel and even Aman, he had been the recipient of good will and wishes from those who stood above him in some way. As for Roa, his feelings toward her – as different as they were now than when they had first met – continued as the feelings that one gives to one’s better. But with Toby there had been genuine comradeship from the beginning. Rogues and thieves they had been when they met, and rogues and thieves they remained, perhaps, but they had learned much together, and from each other.

Snaveling smiled to look upon his friend, but a gentle touch on his shoulder called his attention. He turned to find Roa standing before him, dressed once more in her travelling clothes. Her red hair was bound back into a braid and her pack was strapped securely beneath her cloak. Her eyes were hard and business-like as she spoke. “Snaveling,” she began formally, “I have received word from my King that I am to return to Minas Tirith immediately. I have been looking for you all morning to say that you must be ready to depart ere the evening, and now that time is almost upon us. If we do not leave now we will not have a chance to reach Bree before night and will be forced to spend a night upon the cold ground.”

Snaveling looked at Roa with a mixture of longing and despair. His heart beat out its indecision in his chest, torn between the desire to leap upward at the prospect of weeks spent in the close company of the Woman, and the need to fall for the loss of the Inn where it would ever be home. He stared at Roa in silence for a time, searching for the words he needed. “Snaveling,” she prompted him, “Did you hear what I’ve said? We must leave, now. I have obtained a horse for myself from the Thain but I have yet to find you a mount. I’m afraid that your reputation has spread through these parts and there are few who are willing to loan you their animal, even on the assurance of a Ranger! I am off just now to speak with the Thain – I am sure he will lend me another horse on the surety of King Elessar, on whose authority I can speak. I will be back within this half hour – you must be ready to depart by then.”

Snaveling nodded dumbly, trying to take in the flood of information. Roa moved away, but paused for a moment and looked back at him, “I know you are loath to leave this place. I am too. But I am bound by my duty to heed my King, and you are bound by your oath to accompany me before him, where you shall receive justice at his hand. Justice, but also mercy, I think.” She looked at him for a moment more and then left the Inn.

Snaveling’s mind swam as he rushed to the stables. He quickly removed his rich new cloak and gently folded it into his pack. He threw over his clothes the only sturdy piece of clothing that he had upon him when he arrived: his ragged, travel-stained cloak. The rest of his rags he left where they lay. It did not take him long to pack up his few belongings and put them into his pack. With one last look around at the stall that had become his home, he left the stables and went back to the Inn to make his farewells.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman watched Snaveling as Roa talked at him, noticing how his face suddenly fell - or rather, how his expression seemed to totally freeze up. Same thing with Snaveling, she observed mentally. It is a shame - all who pass through the Dragon eventually move on. But maybe...maybe some will be tempted to stay awhile...

The hopeful thought was cut off as Snaveling nodded dumbly, then almost stumbled to the Inn door, surprisingly undignified bearing in mind his usual regal posture. The Innkeeper couldn't see his face, but she knew something was wrong. Roa suddenly turned to look directly at the Innkeeper, her red braid swinging slightly. Aman looked away, busying herself with some glasses and a dishcloth. She knew then what was going to happen, although she pushed it aside, wishing it wasn't true. He loves her, yet she will be the one who will tear him from this peaceful niche he has dug for himself...

As Snaveling re-entered, he caught Aman's eye and seemed to hesitate. The Innkeeper held his gaze for a second, then served the two elves at the bar quickly, her curiosity at the way one appeared mute irrelevant for the moment. Opening the flap into the bar, the darted through, crossing the room to where Snaveling stood. His face....the expression still seemed frozen, and yet at the same time it was alive with a strange mix of emotions that Aman could barely begin to define. Reaching out a hand, she touched his gently, speaking softly. "Snaveling, what is the matter?"

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

He had intended to take his farewell of Toby first, but Aman’s touch commanded his attention – and he was relieved somewhat to be able to put off the painful duty to disturb his friend’s rest with such unwelcome news. He looked into Aman’s eyes and noted, for the first time, what it was that had captivated Bredan so. He took her hand in his and looked down at it, not knowing what to say. He could feel the eyes of the room upon them, but it was as though they were back in her study, hidden from everyone. His heart belonged to Roa, but for the first time since he had realised this, he wished it were not so, and that he was free to give it to another…

He looked at the Innkeeper once more. “Roa has received a message that she must return to her King, and I am bound by my oath to go with her. Strange,” he said thoughtfully as he looked about the room, “I had not thought that this parting would pain me so, but it does. This is the first place I have known in a very long time that I could call home – and home will it be to me for evermore! I know not when I shall return to this place, but I promise you, I will come back, to renew our friendship.” He clasped her hand to his heart and stood straight, his eyes fixing her with their intensity. “I have enjoyed our conversations more than I think you know, Aman. I thank you for the counsel you have given me, and for the faith that you have shown in me. I am sorry that there is nothing I can do to repay you for all that you have done.”

Aman smiled and returned the pressure of his hand. “You can repay me, my friend, by learning to trust others enough to show them what you have shown only to me. I have indeed given you much advice, perhaps too much! – but perhaps you are willing to hear a bit more?”

Snaveling smiled down at her. “Aye, my friend,” he said. “Between us, there will ever be the ability to speak our minds to the very limit – and the heart to listen.”

“I am glad to hear you say so. Then listen – you are proud, and rash and prone to act without thought in the heat of your anger or passions. When you are before the King, do not speak without first taking counsel with your sense and your heart. He is wise and merciful and fair, but he is still a Man, and a mighty and passionate Man at that. He will not take kindly to an heir of Ar-Pharazôn claiming his birth-right before the Throne of the King, nor will he look kindly on one who attempted harm to one of his kin.”

“I will take care, my friend. When I appear before Roa’s King, I will pretend that you are with me, and speak only as you would have me do.” He let go her hand and made to turn away, but he stopped himself and looked at her once more, as though in contemplation of her face. When he did act, it was with an authority and grace that left Aman breathless with wonder. Seizing her by the shoulders he lowered his head and kissed her gently upon the brow in token of the friendship that had grown between them. And when he spoke, it was as though Aman beheld a King of the elder days, so stern and mighty was his aspect. “May the light of Earendil guide you to your home, my friend. When you look upon it as it sets in the West that is now fallen beneath the waves, think of me!” And with that he left her and strode to the table where Tobias Hornblower sat in quite contemplation of the inside of his eyelids.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled faintly as Lily spoke of her reasoning to coming into the Shire. The Green Dragon being a fine place to start. Willow allowed herself to smile, it was a fine reasoning, and indeed, she would agree that the Green Dragon was as good a place as any to start, certainly for a hobbit from out of the Shire. What hobbit with any sense would travel to say, Gonder on their first trip from their hone anyhow? "And you? What brings you to Hobbiton?" asked Lily, finishing up with her words as to why she had left Bree.

Willow glanced over at Mira and Farran, both of whom were talking quietly, and she shrugged, and begin softly, ingoring the the rain pattering on the walls, driving her insane to step outside into the fair mists of the rainfall.

"I was from the North Moors," she began quietly. "I spent much of my childhood there-- I am older then I look, by perhaps five years, or so."

Her voice was soft as she spoke, trying as hard not to bring up painful memories, just the ones she had no choice but to recall. "When my parents both died from some strange sickness, I had no choice but to away, and stay with other family members. I went to stay with some cousins for a while, bit it was hard to impose on them, with their large family, so Hobbitton seemed the best choice, as I had some family here, and the Green Dragon was here to stay at. It was death that brought me here, Lily, sadness, and sorrow. I came here to try escape that which I knew happened."

Willow sighed, and shifted, trying to get her mind off that past. Her parents in bed, coughing.... rain falling outdoors, no way to escape the inevitable... darkness and shadows haunting the house as the fire flickered out... she was too little to rekindle the flame... her grandfather falling ill next, when she went to stay with them... her mother, handing the child Willow the cherrywood fiddle... Willow shook her head hard, trying to get the memories out of her mind.

Outdoors, the rain continued to fall, and the gray skies reminding her all too well of that one day. Willow breathed out hard. "Would you like to get more tea?" she asked, trying her best to keep the tremor from her voice, and cheer in her voice as she remembered everything all too clearly. She put her hand to her mouth to stiffle a slight cough as she stood up, and smiled the best she could, trying to hold back the memories...

[Kransha]

Tobias Hornblower’s eyes were closed, but they began to drift open, his heavy eyelid uplifting to allow his clouded eyes to look up at his compatriot. He saw the look on Snaveling’s face, a look he’d seen from the start of the brisk morning till this rainy portion of the day. He was not blind, nor deaf to the words and the thoughts of his newest friend here, and he knew what was occurring. He had heard what snippets he needed to of the surrounding conversations, and did not need further prompting. Though he was usually, more or less, in the dark to anything and everything going on around him, he knew, and Snaveling knew he knew, what was going to happen soon enough. With a more solemn air than Snaveling had ever seen on the rodent-like features of Toby, the Halfling spoke first.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he said, oddly cold as his voice faded. Snaveling nodded soberly, having already deduced Toby’s educated guess, “Yes, Toby. I wanted to say goodbye. Toby-” The hobbit cut him off before he could continue, slowly standing from his seat, looking three times as old as he was as he seemed to sluggishly struggle to his feet, but stood fully upright, still considerably shorter than his counterpart. Snaveling’s farewell oration faded and fell back in his throat as, forcing the words, Toby began to speak again, his usual droning voice replaced by one of strength and warmth within.

“My friend…my dear friend, Snaveling…From the first moment I saw you I knew, as you knew when you look upon me, that it was not a good man…or, in my case, a good hobbit at heart who you looked upon. We were thieves, we were rogues then…but, as much of that still lives in us, we have grown much since that day…If I have not already, I wish to again thank you. Snaveling, even though I do not believe you were trying to, you taught me something, which I never expected to learn from a man such as yourself, or any man. I did not know I was capable of befriending foreigners, or much of anyone. The only real companions I’ve had were back in Longbottom, and we were all comrades there, so I held no special bond to them.”

The Halfling’s gaze flinched, almost involuntarily, turning down from Snaveling, who tried in vain to follow it down. Toby had always looked merry to him, at least somewhat, or extremely suspicious, but very rarely this stern. The little being, stuffed so foolishly into his twinkling outfit with the smoke-wreathed pipe still wedged into a side pocket, looked almost philosophical as he pondered his next words, hesitating over each one.

“You…and Roa, and Galadel, and Miss Amanduial as well have all grown in my eyes. You were a scoundrel and a thief, Roa a mysterious and suspicious maid, Galadel an shady elf, Aman a rustic horsemistress, but the shroud over my eyes has been lifted, Snaveling. I don’t see you that way any more, any of you. I see an upstanding man with the first good dreams he’s ever had, I see a fair maiden, noble, kind, I see an elf, beautiful and majestic, and a good friend who happens to have a say in how much ale I get in the morning. I thought I could never look on any of you as such, but now I do…and, Snaveling, I have you to thank for it.”

“My friend, do you see what I see in this room? I see, now more than ever, people who have come together, united, to talk and to sing and to be happy together. These people don’t care about the gold in their pockets or the weed in their pipe, they care about merriment, about happiness…and even, some, about each other…" he drifted off, his phrase withering as he shot the last fiendish glance, tempered with a friendly grin, at Snaveling, considering his 'plight', "Snaveling," he continued, the grin dissapearing as he returned to marble-stiff seriousness, "today I can say, beyond the mystic shadow of a doubt, that I am one of them! When I return in a week or so Longbottom after my stay here, I won’t care about my money, my fields of Longbottom Leaf, my grand estate in the Southfarthing, oh no. When I return, I’m going to call all my young cousins and nieces and nephews together around me, and I’m going to tell them about you, Snaveling, and about Roa, and about all the rest. I’m going to tell them the story of the great fire of the Green Dragon and of the heroes who made all right again. Until today, I’ve known countless tales of hobbit heroes, but I’ve never known any man or woman with the courage I saw. I was honored to be with them, and with you, and I was happy to be there because I saw you and all my friends changing, coming together, and I knew that if I spent one more minute of my short life wrenching for a couple of gold coins, I’d die a miserable old fool without a care for the world around me, unloved and uncared for by anyone on this Middle-Earth.”

He looked up, slowly but surely, looking at Snaveling, a delicate sparkling glint evident in his left eye. Just as they always did, his sharp ears were quivering very meekly as a smile crossed his lips. It seemed to Snaveling that his distinct protrusion had faded, and he looked more a hobbit than he ever had before. Something more than the withered glint was shimmering in Toby’s eye, but Snaveling did not bother to guess as to what it was, since he already knew better than any, though he’d never expected to see such a thing from the roguish Halfling. Toby's face at last broke again into a soothing smile, which crested his face like a new sunrise on a dark night, and Snaveling could not help but smile back.

“Snaveling, I don’t know how many friends you’ve ever had in your life, or how many you have now, but I want you to know, if you ever return to the Shire, you will have a friend there, ready to except you at his door. I wish you as luck as I can and hope your journey will be a safe and good one…And, Snaveling, there will be, in the Southfarthing of the Shire, just a league north of Longbottom, a small house surrounded by trees…empty…waiting for the man who owns it now. Three weeks ago, I promised you a house of your own in Roa’s tent after the fire…I am a hobbit who keeps his word.”

[Firefoot]

Lily could hardly believe what she was hearing. She had thought there was something behind Willow, and that was it. She was sorry she had asked, as it obviously pained Willow immensely to remember it. Willow finished with the words, "It was death that brought me here, Lily, sadness, and sorrow. I came here to try escape that which I knew happened." It struck Lily to the core. Hastily Willow stood up, asking if Lily would like some more tea.

"Yes, please," Lily murmured. She looked up at Willow, unsure of what to say. Sometimes, she supposed, saying nothing was best, but her dark brown eyes were full of sympathy and sorrow for Willow. Willow turned to get the tea, leaving Lily alone with her thoughts. Hard times had fallen on Lily's family as well, but nothing like what Lily had heard from Willow. Lily had had a dog die once, but that was as close to death as she had ever been. She couldn't imagine what Willow had went through. She decided that unless Willow brought it up, Lily wouldn't mention it. No need to give Willow more grief than she was obviously experiencing.

Lily's thoughts turned to the pitter-patter, pitter-patter of the rain on the roof. She could hear the claps of thunder in the distance, moving ever closer. Lily shuddered again. Oh, how she hated thunder and the memories that came back with it! She wished she could forget that day twelve years ago when her father's shop had burned down because of a lightning strike and all their troubles had started. She could forget about every day of her life - except for when rain fell.

Willow returned with the tea, handing a cup to Lily. Lily accepted gratefully and took a sip of the hot tea. Hot tea can soothe anything, Lily thought. Now if only this accursed rain would stop!

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling gazed at Tobias in wonderment, but not surprise, for he had come to expect the unexpected from his small friend. Still, the gift of a house to call his own was beyond his wildest imaginings. He fell silent before the gift, not knowing what to say. But in that moment there arose in his mind’s eye once more the image of his hunting lodge in its secluded valley. All his life he had sought this place, looking for a way to retire from the world and cut himself off from all human contact. That had always been his greatest wish and most fervent desire, but somehow, the idea of neat little home in the middle of the busy, populated land of the Halflings did not seem quite so bad… Even as he thought this, there was a rustle in the leaves about his lodge as of a great wind blowing through the valley. A storm of dust and dead leaves was blown about the scene, obscuring the lodge and the patio, the valley and the distant hills that gave their shadowy protection. Snaveling closes his eyes the better to see the home that he had carried in his imagination all the long years of his wanderings – and to bid it farewell.

When he opened his eyes again they were clear and happy. “Tell me,” he said through the thickness of his throat, “how many rooms does that house have?”

Toby looked at him and twitched his nose like a curious rat. “Five,” he replied. “Why?”

Snaveling smiled. “It’s perfect. I cannot thank you enough my friend, so I shall not try.” He sighed deeply and fought back the prickle that he felt at the corner of his eyes. “I have spent my life leaving one place for another, but never before has departing brought such a sadness. It is as though I would weep for joy – I am saddened to leave, but it gladdens my very heart that I have cause for such sorrow.” Toby smiled at him and bit back his own tears. In silence, Snaveling knelt to the floor and hugged the elderly hobbit to his chest. He held him like that for a long moment before pulling away. A sudden impulse came to him, and acting upon it without thinking he took the small amulet from about his neck and handed it to his friend. “Take this,” he said, thrusting it into Toby’s hand. “It is the only truly precious object that I possess. I gather that it is worth quite a bit of money. I can never repay your kindness and friendship, but I can replace the money that I…borrowed from you, and it should go some way to deferring the costs of that house.”

Toby tried to hand the amulet back. “No, no; I cannot accept this. It is the only thing you have of your home land!”

“This is my home,” the Man of the South replied. “Keep it, in token of that, and as my oath that I shall return for it someday.”

From behind him, he heard a small voice calling out his name. Turning, he saw young Pimpernel at the door of the Inn. “Mister Snaveling, sir,” he said breathlessly as he rushed forward, “begging your pardon, sir, but I’ve been sent by the Ranger Woman Roa. She says she’s found a horse for you sir, but that it will take time to saddle it. She’s eager to leave as soon as can be, so she’s bid me tell you to meet her at the bridge as soon as you can!”

Snaveling looked at Toby once more, and then across the room at Aman. The Innkeeper smiled at him and Snaveling bowed to her in response. He swept his eyes across the Common Room and saw the signs of the recent labour, some small portion of it his, that had gone into making this place. “Run back lad and tell Roa that I am on my way. I am ready to leave.” Pimpernel ducked his head and flew out the door.

Snaveling bent and picked up his pack, then strode from the room without looking back. He crossed the yard quickly, but when he got to the gate he paused for a moment, his hand on the gatepost, and then turned to look back. The Green Dragon Inn was lovely. It’s freshly carved and fitted timbers glowed with the warmth of the place and from the little chimneys all about its gables and eaves there poured the smoke of its happy denizens. Through the windows he could hear the sounds of the people inside as they carried on their conversations. But a wind came up from the south, stirring his cloak and beckoning him away. Turning once more he walked down the Road and soon left the Inn behind him.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman's eyes followed Snaveling out of the door, but as it began to close, she looked away quickly, fumblinh beneath the bar. She gave a small, short gasp a exactly the same moment that the door shut, and closed her eyes, letting the breath out quickly.

It would be easier if you had a heart of stone, Amanaduial. Taking in every waif and stray... Kneeling behind the bar, her fingers searched between the glasses for some imaginary item, busying herself with nothingness to cover her upset. Straightening quickly, she smoothed her dress in a sharp movement, then glanced around to see where Ruby was. Catching the hobbit's eye, she signalled towards the bar. Something about her expression must have made the hobbit realise the Innkeeper's seriousness, and she nodded before scurrying over to Buttercup to ask her to cover the floor while she dealt with the bar.

Not casting another look back, Aman forced herself to walk only at a brisk pace out of the busy, bustling room and into the quiet solitude of her study. As she shut the door behind her, muffling the sounds of the Inn to a steady, quiet murmur, she leant back against it, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. Beren, Lúrëaelda, and now Snaveling... Too soft, Aman, too quick to love those who will only leave...and everyone leaves...

A sudden idea seized the Innkeeper and her eyes snapped open. Taking only a split second to think about it, Aman made up her mind and spun around, walking very quickly from the room and, reaching the stairs, she took them two at a time but moving quietly, so those who did not look up did not notice anything curious - although of course she must have been a rather desperate sight. She didn't care much though, not now - she had to get up as quickly as possible, before it was too late. Reaching the attic stairs, she sped up them, her feet sure on the rungs of the ladder, and it was just as well at the speed she was going. Darting to the window, she pushed it open and swung out quickly. Using the same method as before, but at about twice the speed, the Innkeeper was on the roof in less than a minute.

Steadying herself, her arms out to the sides, Aman rose slowly into a standing position. She was able to see for miles and miles all around, but her startling green eyes were fixed only in one direction, on one figure. A man, clad in fine black clothes, his dark hair falling over his shoulders, lean body held straight. Even as she watched, the sunlight seemed to glint off his amulet chain - or was that only her imagination? No matter - she knew the figure easily from his stance and clothes.

"Snaveling!"

Her voice rang out in that direction. The man didn't pause, maybe not hearing, so Aman called again. "Snaveling!"

He paused, slowing to a halt, then swivelled around the look...upwards. She grinned, glad he had guessed. Holding her hair back with one arm, she held the other hand high and steady.

"Farewell, man of the South! I hope that we shall meet again, whether on this path or that which comes after this life. Farewell, Snaveling!"

The man contemplated Aman steadily, and at this distance, even Aman's sharp eyes could not pick out his expression. Then he held a hand high back at her, and called something back, more quietly than she had, but with a voice dignified and warm, although the words were whipped away. Then, as Aman bowed carefully to him, an overdone gesture, he returned it ironically, then after a second, he turned and continued on his way, his head held high. Aman breathed deeply in the high air, watching his back, her eyes shaded against the sun. Shivering a little, she looked up at the sky and saw the forebodingly cloudy sky. It would not be an hour before the rain came, and what rain it would be to look at those clouds. Taking a last glance after Snaveling, Aman fixed this last glimpse in her memory, then descended from her high perch, her lookout, back to the Common Room. Straightening her hair, her dress and her head, Aman of The Green Dragon returned to her duties.

[symestreem]

Symestreem returned with her cloak. As she opened the door, the old fear hit her.
People. They were everywhere. The room was full of them.

Her legs seized control of her and she turned, stumbling as she ran. The wet cloak tripped her up and she fell on her face. Fire lanced through her forehead, and blood from a gash dripped into her eye. She picked herself up and ran.

I have to get away. I have to get away. Must get away. She felt hunted like she had so many times before. The cloak tripped her up again, and she dropped it. She was still running, blinded by her fear. Her legs burned, and her breath rattled in her chest. She had to keep running. Away, always away.

She tripped over a tree root and fell again. The air was knocked out of her like someone had punched her with a giant fist. The blood on her face mixed with dirt to make a grotesque mud that stung like strong brandy. She rubbed her eyes clear and looked around. No one was after her. At least for now... Could she get far enough away by nightfall? Could she ever get far enough away?

She got up and kept running, ignoring the stitch in her side and the pain in her leg.

[Mad Baggins]

Mira started and looked up. Dear me, I've dozed off! she thought, rubbing her eyes. She looked over at Ferran and saw her nodding off as well. My, these late nights are getting to all of us, it seems, she mused. Lily noticed her startled look at grinned mirthfully. Mira winked at Lily and yawned, stretching. She got up, going over to the bar for some tea. When she got back, Lily and Willow were chatting. Mira sat down and took a sip of tea.

"Well, Lily, Willow, what were you two talking about while Ferran and I took our little nap?" she asked, smiling. She drank some tea and felt the smooth, hot liquid course down her throat. It warmed her stomach and woke her up even more. Taking a look out the window, Mira saw the rainstorm had subsided and the sun was peeking out through a break in the clouds.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled at Mira, who had awoken. The late nights had been catching up to them, she thought with a yawn, happy to have something to take her mind off of the painful memories that she had forced herself to recall when speaking with Lily. Lily was sipping on her tea, and they had been talking quietly, about really nothing much, just enough to keep her mind off of the past. "I'm sorry, Mira," Willow said, with an appology in her voice. "Did we wake you?"

"Oh no," Mira answered, going to get herself some tea, fitting for them, as the day was chilly. Listening, Willow became aware that the rain had paused, with a break in the clouds, seemingly. It would be good to see the sun again, perhaps, if it stayed with the pause in the cloudburst. And besides, Willow had noticed that the rain seemed to rather bother Lily, though Willow didn't mind it, even though it had been raining when her parents had died...

Willow shook her head hard, getting the sudden thoughts from her mind. Fear and shadows and darkness... they always seemed to jump up to haunt her at the worst moments, causing her to act different, and startle anyone who could ever be a friend...

In fact, she was rather startled to find that she had slept peacefully that last night, with the fair taste of sunlight on her face wakening her, and not the old nightmares, and fears. They were all too often, she thought, stiffling a cough with her hand, and feeling up the pretense that nothing was wrong.

"Well, Lily, Willow, what were you two talking about while Ferran and I took our little nap?" asked Mira, smiling, and sipping her tea.

"We weren't really talkng about anything," Willow answered. "How was your nap?"

She regretted the words the moment that they had came out of her mouth, the mere stupidity of them hitting her hard. Willow sighed, and rested her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, Mira," she said softly. "I guess I'm just not thinking today."

Oh well, at least the rain had stopped for the time. Outside, there was a silence, and that bothered Willow nearly as much as the steady rainfall.

[Firefoot]

Lily sighed with relief as soon as the sun came out and the rain stopped, for a time anyway. It put her in a much better mood. I really should start trying to change that. The weather shouldn't have so much affect on my mood, she thought. Mira awoke, and got herself a cup of tea. Everybody dozing off was starting to make Lily even more tired. She wasn't very accustomed to such late nights.

Mira returned with her tea and asked what they had been talking about. Lily followed Willow's lead and said nothing of what most of their conversation had really been about. Lily was still thinking about it. Suddenly something Willow had said came back to her. I arrived the day of the party, and didn't know anything about the fire until then.

"Earlier you said something about a fire. Is that what the party was about? I was wondering this morning, but I completely forgot about it," said Lily. She remembered the new-painted sign outside, and it made sense now. "What happened?"

[nynnd1]

Bredan awoke, his eyes bleary and head in pain, to much ale to early in the morning, but then he remembered why he had started to drink in the first place, he remembered well talking to Aman, and then Snaveling interrupting and spoiling the moment. He remembered the confrontation that he had with Snaveling, the man seemed a lot taller and dignified to Bredan then he had before, but then again he couldn’t see straight, but that didn’t matter, he could have just hit him, but where would that get him, in the Shire and with Lady Aman, he could tell that she was requesting him to back off, so back off he did, to his room to lay down and sleep it off.

Bredan swung his legs round to the side of his bed, his body felt slightly numb. He held his head in his hands, thinking of his journey from Gondor, till he got attacked and robbed, all he had left was his sword and sheath, his clothes and the ring hung from the chain that Iolet had given when he left Gondor, there was only one way they would get that, and that was if Bredan was dead, which he wasn’t, although he felt it right now. Bredan felt the ring hanging from his neck, he took it out and looked at it, remembering Iolet’s dark beautiful eyes, set in her beautiful face, he wiped the tear from his eye. He had argued so much when she told him that her husband had found out about them, she cast him away to save him, this he only really understood on the long journey from Gondor to the Shire, and although he loved her, Iolet’s heart belong to her husband, it would never be Bredan’s.

Bredan looked out the window, his eyes were hurt by the beams of sunshine that shot straight to his eyes, he looked away, slowly getting up he undressed and went to get washed and clean. Coming back to the window after his wash and clean he felt a lot better and happier, and cleaner about himself, coming to terms with his trouble and his heart just mending, but the view from the window, the countryside of the Shire rolling on for what seemed for ever, with the odd structure breaking the landscape and casting shadows from the sun, the view was so different to that of Minas Tirith, it reminded him of Lady Aman. His mind went back again to the morning, during his drinking binge, he had a lot to apologise for, and an apology would probably have to go to Snaveling, if he got an apology from Snaveling first, for interrupting his conversation with Lady Aman, and if Bredan could know more of this Snaveling then perhaps his mind would be made up whether to like him or not.

Walking into the Inn Bredan felt some stares coming his way, strolling up to the bar he saw the young Hobbit lass, the one that had served him during the morning, he strolled up to her and leant on the bar to make the comment personal to her.

“Hello, I am Bredan of Gondor,” he said with an apologetic look on his face. “I just wanted to apologise for my attitude and behaviour this morning, I had no right to be so impolite, I promise it will never happen again and hope you will receive my sincere apology” he shot a smile to her at the end of the sentence.

“Your apology is accepted, Bredan of Gondor.”

“Do you know where I may find Lady Aman, I wish to have words with her.” Bredan asked extremely politely.

“I believe she has just popped out the back she will be back in a moment.” Replied the Hobbit lass, equally politely.

“Will you tell her that I would like to see her in my room, and may I have a Tea to take there please.” Bredan asked

“Certainly” the Hobbit said.

Bredan waited for his tea, thanked the Hobbit lass again and retired to his room, to wait for Aman and work out what he would say to apologise to her.

[Alaksoron]

A tall, cloaked figure enters the inn. His black cowl shadows much of his face, but his eyes are clearly visible as they dart back and forth across the inn. He does not appear to see what he is searching for and murmurs something unintelligible under his breath.

Silently he takes a seat in the corner, lights a pipe, and orders a pint in a raspy, grating whisper. He appears to wait, most patiently, and his seldom movements are executed with a certain wolfish grace, like a coiled viper about to strike.

[Kitanna]

Peony saw the man come into the inn. He looked mysterious and he took a seat in the corner. She rose from her own seat and headed over.

"Hello there," She smiled reaching out one hand for a handshake and using the other to wipe a strand of red hair out of her, "May I sit with you?"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Lily had asked a question, something about the fire. Willow sighed, she was too tired to really think straight, the overly late nights had caught up with her. Slowly she got her bearings straight, and sipped at her tea. "I really don't know what happened," she answered, stirring her tea throughtfully. "I wasn't here, though I was in Hobbitton while they were rebuilding. So, I'm afraid I cannot answer that."

The girl sighed, and looked around. The rain had stopped, that much was sure, at the sun had peeked out from beneath the dark, and heavy clouds, though they still hovered at the edge of the horizon, threatening, and looming, a darkness ready to strike. It bothered her in a manner, though Willow was quite happy that the rain had receeded for the time.

She sat back from looking out of the Inn, and sighed. She was tired of being cooped up, though she would never let it show, not when she was as tired as she was, and yawned. For a moment, her eyelids threatened to fall shut on her, and Willow wouldn't've minded. No, not minded, but she was in an Inn, during mid afternoon. It wouldn't look good for her to be a-sleeping the day away.

Willow forced herself to smile through a yawn. "Yes, the fire was what the party was about, though," she answered to the earlier question. "T'was indeed."

She smiled, and quirked her head, as her sleepiness continued to work it's way up on her.

[Arwen Eruantale]

The maid seemed nice enough, obviously of Elven descent. Her grey eyes matched the still billowing sky, but held a kind earnestness that it did not. A few almost golden strands of her long hair slipped over her shoulder as she bent her head to her ale.

Niara was still ashamed that she had been caught unawares, and struggled to let it go...The maid new nothing of this internal struggle. And Niara answered softly, still praying for her long dormant smile to waken. "I--"

A tall figure, bathed and hidden in a cloak so black it could hide him from even the moon herself, swept across the room-- and into the corner directly across from her. His piercing eyes had met hers for a split second as he passed..

Regardless of this distraction, she continued without pause, her eyes never leaving the lady before her long enough to warrant disinterest. "I know not how long I shall stay." She said. "I may leave tonight... But for the moment, any traveling I might do is purposeless."

The Man in the corner sat, now with a pipe. Much as she had always imagined the great King Elessar had sat once, as a Ranger. She watched the server bring him an ale. His eyes were all that was visible from the black inside his cloak. Cold. Yet he was alone, much like herself.

But for the company of the lady with her, Niara would at once have retired into the shadowy comfort of her own cloak and hood. But she could not. She missed such times as she had had long ago. Parties around fires with cloaked figures....Mugs of ale...pipes and smoke...stars....

She pushed back a dark strand of hair, it had strayed across her forehead and caught itself on an eyelash. She had always lamented that they were so long, and almost unnaturally dark, they framed her blue eyes almost as if she had painted them like the evil men of an age past.

She took a sip of ale and, pulling her cloak closer around her, returned her attention to the lady --and The Man-- across from her...

[Sirithheruwen]

Twylight stepped tentatively into the Green Dragon Inn. Even though it was none too bright outside, she still had to blink several times to get her eyes adjusted to the smoky interior of the inn. She was very much alike to the elves in appearance: She had a tall, slim frame and long light-colored hair. Her eyes were speckled gray set in a fair, unblemished face. But there was one difference. The inner light that seemed to shine forth from within the skin of those of the fair Elven race was missing.

She eyed the many people sitting around, laughing, conversing, and generally having a good time. No one noticed her entrance, and for that she was happy. Twylight had never welcomed the attentions of others; instead she loved more silence and peace and solitude.

Taking a seat by the door, she wrapped herself tightly in her midnight-blue cloak, as if to evade the eyes of everyone in the inn. With a jolt, she realized that the eyes of a man across the room were on her. He was wrapped in a black cloak, slightly weatherstained at the bottom. It seemed as if he were talking to the red-haired woman standing next to him, but his eyes were upon Twylight. She shivered and turned away.

[Firefoot]

"Oh. Okay," Lily said. A fire. She knew firsthand the terror of fire, and was glad she hadn't been there to witness it. In fact if Willow hadn't mentioned it, she never would have known. She had hoped Willow would have some more information for her, but she didn't push it. Willow looked awfully tired, almost ready to doze off again right where she sat. Mira, too, seemed only seconds away from dropping off. Lily stifled a yawn. Actually, a nap didn't sound so bad right now... If I don't do something now, I'll probably be the one to fall asleep. She hardly thought falling asleep in the middle of the Common Room would be the best idea in the world. Lily took another sip of tea, even though she figured it would just make her more tired.

She sat back in her chair lazily, surveying the other patrons of the inn. Mostly they were chatting in groups of two's and three's, but there were a few who seemed happy to be sitting by themselves. The whole general mood of the Inn was much more quieter than it had been yesterday, as if everyone else was also still recovering from the party last night.

Lily leaned forward again toward the table, not even bothering to hide her yawn this time.

"I'm awfully tired," Lily said. "And you look it, too. I'm thinking we're not going to be getting much in the way of intelligent conversation right now. What do you think? Perhaps a walk would be nice, as long as the clouds have cleared?"

[Lhundulinwen]

Lalanie knew she shouldn't stop at the inn; she had so much farther to go, but it had been many weeks since a good pint... Pushing her way through the door, she was surprised that no one even looked up; the Shire really was absorbed in its self, she thought with a smile. Most everywhere else, especially in Bree, her green cloak and honey eyes usually attracted unwanted attention. Her boots made a small clicking noise against the floor, but it seemed rather loud in the subdued inn.

Sitting down in a corner booth, Lalanie kept her hood up and her clock on. She ordered a pint, and eyed the small groups around her. No one paid attention to the dusty women in the corner, which was perfectly fine with her. Putting her feet up, sipping her pint, Lalanie decided that maybe it was time to spend a little bit of time in the Shire.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal walked into the Inn. She had been away for a while, but not for reasons anyone but possibly Adu would understand.

Angry was no where to be found. All of his belongings still remained at his residence, but not him. If he had left on his own, his favorite pipe would be missing but it was still exactly where he had left it. She had been searching and living alone once more. She had finally given up.

She realized now that a human and a hobbit would never have the same point of view. They would never be together, never have children, and never marry. It was only a silly, worthless dream of hers.

She knew that Hama was still away, heading towards Rohan to take over her father's position as General. He would be a better general then Dorian was. Yet, it didn't explain Adu. She thought that she would be here, but there just wasn't any sign of her.

The gloominess of the now breaking storm had caught up with her heart. She just couldn't come out of it and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

All of her dreams, all of her happy thoughts, everything that had happened since the death of her father had all gone away. Her hopes and dreams of starting a family and marry a man that she loved was out the window. But she would not leave the Shire. She would maintain Angry Brandybuck's house, but she would not stay once he returned. She would move on in that aspect.

She wondered if the Shire people would allow her to build a home of her own. She pondered the thought as she sat down at one of the tables.

[Alaksoron]

The stranger gulped down the last of his ale and set down the mug with a heavy thud. He raised his head slowly to regard the red-headed hobbit standing over him. Belatedly he said "Certainly. Be my guest. I do not mind at all. Can I buy you a drink? I don't believe I caught your nam-......."

His attention was diverted by a new arrival to the inn. Not bothering to finish his question he took a long drawl at his pipe and fell once again to mutterings. No one else seemed to notice the weather-cloaked Elf-like apparition that so raptly held his attention.

[Alaksoron]

So. At least two others than the red-headed woman standing by his table (she still had not taken her seat) had noticed him. The Elven woman (he assumed she was Elven, though the light of the Valar had left her face) had immediately turned away, wrapping herself in a midnight blue cloak that had undoubtedly cost too much to be used for traveling long distances. His stare had that effect on many people, unfortunately. He was aware that his eyes were cold, a result of the violent life he had led.

The dark-headed woman with long lashes, however, was different. She met his lingering stare with an equally intent one of her own. "Easterling?" he wondered.

He turned to the red-haired woman still tarrying at the corner of the table. "Are you going to stand there forever? You asked to sit here. Sit." Without waiting to ask her he ordered two mugs of ale.

[Mad Baggins]

Through the frowziness of her sleepy state, Mira heard someone (it sounded like Lily) say something about going for a walk. With a great effort, she roused herself and said sleepily, "Walk? That'd be good right now. Just thing to wake me up." After rubbing her eyes and yawning, she opened them to see Lily looking at Willow, waiting for her response.

"Pardon me...going for a drink," Mira mumbled, still half-asleep. She got up and walked slowly to the bar. Once there, she asked for a cup of coffee. "Strong coffee, please," she added. She was served a steaming black cup, and she drank it in a few gulps. It flowed down her throat, a scalding, wonderfully energizing liquid that woke her up almost instantly.

Mira ambled back to the table where the others sat and plopped down in her seat. Looking expectantly at Willow, she said, "Well? Are you coming?"

[Kitanna]

Peony slid into the chair across from the man. "Sorry, I was waiting for you to finish your thought. You ended your sentence so aruptly. Is everything all right?"

Peony smiled and thanked the hobbit lass who brought the ale for them, "Thank you for the ale sir, but I do not even know your name." She smiled to him and took a small sip out of her mug. Peony waited for him to answer.

[Alaksoron]

"I am a friend. For now you can call me Jean. True, that is not my name, but you could hardly expect me to give my name to someone I just met in a tavern on foreign ground. And I suppose it is useless for me to ask you your name?"

The stranger, or Jean as we should call him now, seemed to be feeling more comfortable now, or maybe it was the ale, but he tossed back his hood. His complexion was dark, with the front of his head shaved and a single long braid in the back as thick as a child's wrist falling down his back past his shoulders and disappearing down his cloak.

He glanced briefly in the direction of the blue-cloaked Elf-woman while putting out his pipe with his thumb before turning to face his companion.

[Kitanna]

Jean drew back his hood, revealing a long braid down his back. "Useless to ask my name? Never! I give out my name because it makes people seem like friends instead of strangers." She smiled and took another sip of ale. "My name is Peony Minyatur."

Jean took his pipe away from his mouth for a moment and took a sip of his ale. "And may I ask where you are from Mr. Jean?"

[Bombadil]

Iadarion smiled as he read the sign for The Green Dragon. He had heard much of this merry place. It would be a perfect destination to end his day after travelling through the rain during most of it.

He had been on an errand to the Old Forest, from his current home in Eryn Lasgalen - and decided to explore the lands of the Shire before his return. As he stepped in, the few who noticed his odd appearance were thrown offguard by his graceful movements that modelled the quiet stream flowing through the endless forest. But this image was quickly shattered as Iardarion jumped in the air to click his heels and give a cheer for the Shire. Some gave the green-cloaked, yellow-booted creature disapproving looks, while others laughed and applauded his joy.

"Hey dol, to all!" he yelled and at last sat down in an empty booth. He drew the long blonde hair from his face, and glanced around the Inn with a smirk on his face - delightfully smoking the Old Toby pipeweed he had purchased on his way up from the South. He thought for a moment of buying a pint for all, but decided not to possibly come off as intrusive to the halflings around him. Folk in these parts weren't as accepting of such queer behavior.

[Sirithheruwen]

Twylight could still feel the man's gaze burning at her back now and again, like the sun racing in and out of the clouds in the outside world. She was beginning to regret turning away so hastily. He hadn't meant her any harm, as far as she knew of anyways. What if he had also noticed her shudder? Her fearful glance? But her secret...that was too dangerous. If the news of her secret spread, she could fall into the wrong hands and she could do nothing about it.

She sighed, summoned up all of her courage, preparing herself to turn around and meet the man's eyes. Just as she was about to turn around, a cheerful female voice spoke out beside her. It was a hobbit lady, one of the serving maids.

"Is there anything I can get you m'am?"

Twylight stared blankly. Finally, as the maid was beginning to look a little nervous, she held up a slender finger, motioning for the hobbit to wait one moment. Rummaging in a little bundle at her side, Twylight came out with a scrap of parchment and an odd rock that had not before been seen in the Shire. Putting rock to paper, she wrote:

My name is Tw- she paused, and abruptly crossed it out. She tried again:

I would like to arrange a room here at the Green Dragon. Do not worry, I can still hear you. My throat...it hurts. I cannot speak at the moment.

The maid nodded, still looking a little unsure. But all the same, between writing and speaking, they got something worked out and Twylight secured her room. She just hoped that no one else had noticed her odd behavior. With another rubbing of the rock, she finished off the last bit of parchment with this closing:

Thank you very much. I'll motion to you when I am ready to go. Do me a favour, miss, and don't tell anyone about this okay? Thank you.

[Alaksoron]

"Well. Peony. Where am I from? I have spent the last twelve years in Rohan, but I was born in Rivendell. And where are you from? Are you native to here?"

'Jean' finishes his second ale but does not bother to order another. Gradually, too slowly to be noticeable, the raspiness had worked its way out of his voice till only a slight grate remained. He begins to drum his fingers on the table.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia noticed Niara glance at the cloaked man in the corner, but chose not to react. Sometimes that was best, as experience had taught her long ago. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and thought for a moment.

"I know what you mean." She replied. "I was travelling aimlessly for a while. I've developed a liking for the road after all that business with the Ring. But I was heading back to Mirkwood, and stayed some time at Minas Tirith on my way back. I'm fairly good friends with Elessar, in a way. I turned up here two weeks ago, but the Inn caught fire that night and I've been here since then, helping to rebuild it. I'm thinking of moving on soon, I get bored staying in one place for too long, unless I'm in Minas Tirith. I could never get bored of that place." She sighed, remembering the white walls when they were almost destroyed by orcs in that huge battle, and took another sip of her ale.

[Bombadil]

Iadarion had noticed a piece of parchment slowly drop to the ground beside him. He picked it up and it read:

I would like to arrange a room here at the Green Dragon. Do not worry, I can still hear you. My throat...it hurts. I cannot speak at the moment.


Thank you very much. I'll motion to you when I am ready to go. Do me a favour, miss, and don't tell anyone about this okay? Thank you.

He became very interested in this mysterious parchment, and looked to the table where it had dropped from- to see a fair lady, who he thought to be an elf, sitting quietly and looking very nervous.

Although Iadarion was worried about his intrusiveness before, he couldn't resist but to sit down with this lady and buy her a pint.

"Here you go lass." He said, not sure whether her look of surprise was of good or bad nature. "Maybe this will help your throat. The name's Iadarion, you?"

[Kitanna]

Peony raised an eyebrow to Jean. Did she really look so small to be taken for a Hobbit? "A native of here? No, I was born and raised in Minas Tirith."

Jean was drumming his fingers on the table and she found it quite annoying, but she didn't want to seem rude so she tried to ignore it. "You say you spent time in Rohan? I love it there, very beautiful country."

[Lhundulinwen]

Lalanie knew that she was going to get drunk if she didn’t stop on this pint, and she’d feel it the next morning. She may be able to stay in the Shire for a little while, but no longer than a week or two, or she wouldn’t have time to make it back to Rivendell, and from there winding through small villages and towns back to Gondor.

She let the hood fall back. Her brown hair looked odd, she knew, with her pointy ears and hazel eyes on such a medium height, slightly stocky, frame. Her ancestry was, politely put, slightly odd. Only a drop of elven blood wound through her veins, from somewhere in the very distant past, somewhere in the forgotten elderdays, but she had inherited the trademark ears. She never met her parents, but that had never bothered her. Why should it? She thought to herself. Her father had died in battle as knight of Gondor, shortly after her mother had died giving birth to her in Rivendell. Her first, most found years, were spent at Rivendell. She was taught with the other boys since there were few girls her own age at that time there. She had learned sword play and how to use a bow and arrow. Of course, she was forced to learn how to sew, and the ‘womanly arts’ too. She was happy at Rivendell, even if she did have to sew.

But when she was about twelve, her father’s family had decided that she shouldn’t be raised in “the wilderness,” so they took her to Gondor. But they weren’t exactly the kind of people who liked children. Whatever the reason, she was sent to The House of Healing to be raised there. She hated it. Lalanie was never the gentle type; but working there she learned some gentleness. But soon she missed her friends and being able to just run. Or maybe it was the ugly dresses; then again, it was probably the simple reason that she felt like she couldn't be herself.

Lalanie sighed. She picked up her small satchel and her green dusty cloak and went to get a room for the night, ignoring any eyes that happened to follow her. No one moved to follow, but just in case, Lalanie fingered her curved blade under the cloak.

[Nurumaiel]

"How fortunate can a poor hobbit get? It stops raining when we reach the Inn! Couldn't it have been sunny while we were walking and then started raining when we were indoors?"

"You're always complaining. At least we got here."

The voices could be heard from outside, and as the door swung open four wet hobbits were revealed. Two of them stopped just outside to wring the waters out of their cloaks outside the Inn; one wrung the rain from his cloak inside the doorway, glaring defiantly about him; and the fourth walked innocently in without wringing his cloak at all, his round face brightening at the sight of the warm drinks. The first two stepped inside, frowning in disgust at the third. Those first two looked almost exactly alike in features, but were almost opposites after that. Both had brown curls, but one had neatly combed his while the other had left his in tangles. Their faces were similiar... jolly and cheerful, but one had round, red cheeks while the other's cheeks were thinner (though not overly thin; he was a hobbit). Another distinction was that the second's face bore a thoughtful, shy expression while the first looked open and entirely sociable. They were dressed very nicely in bright colors, but one had kept his clothes in very neat condition while the other's outfit was splattered with mud and torn in several places. Their twinkling blue eyes, however, did not differ in the least.

The third hobbit had a grouchy expression on his rather handsome face. He seemed older than the other two, at least by a little. Brown hair of a dirty color fell over his face and he smoothed it back in an annoyed fashion. His eyes were also brown and he gazed about him in a hawk-like fashion. He seemed to come from a family of considerable wealth, judging by the richness of his clothing. The clothes were dirty with mud and rain, however. It seemed to aggravate him, for whenever he looked down at himself he frowned. His nose was long and sharp, his eyes narrow and also sharp. He was rather tall for a hobbit, and he had an altogether frightening air about him.

The fourth hobbit, now sitting contentedly nearly the fireplace with a mug of beer in his hand, warming his toes, was very odd to look at. His hair was a very light brown, so light it was almost gold, and his blue eyes were vacant and expressionless. Nay, that would not do. It was not as if he were a half-wit, but there was something entirely innocent about him. He radiated gentleness and kindness, and the look on his face clearly told he expected everyone to do the same. He smiled brightly whenever he saw anyone looking at him, and a very lovely smile it was. His features were almost feminine. His hair was longer than the other hobbits, his face pale and pretty with a little pink in the cheeks. How often his features had gained laughter from the other hobbit lads. He seemed younger than his companions, perhaps just barely out of his tweens. His innocence and simplicity were attractive and strange.

"Hello, everybody!" cried one of the hobbits in a loud voice. Many eyes turned towards them. It was the first hobbit, the sociable-looking hobbit who had groomed himself so well. The second hobbit, the shy and mud-splattered hobbit, blushed deeply and murmured softly, "Please, Blanco, don't be so noisy. There are people here."

"I know." The first hobbit, called Blanco, turned a rather surprised face to the second. "If there weren't people here, Posco, why would I say hello to them? It doesn't make sense."

The other hobbit shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the many beings. "Yes, I know, Blanco, but they aren't all hobbits." His eyes widened considerably and he dropped his voice even lower, saying in a barely audible voice, "Big Folk."

"I like Big Folk," said Blanco in the same loud voice. "I'm going to make friends with them all, just you wait and see."

"You two are absolutel fools," said the grouchy looking hobbit. "If you had any sense you'd go get yourselves a drink and sit by Bingo. Go now." He scowled fiercely at the two hobbits until they went, muttering about 'Old Grouchy Marcho.' He scowled at their backs and then went to sit by the the fourth hobbit, who had called Bingo. His face softened when he was greeted with a cheerful smile. "Hello, lad," he said.

"Hello, Marcho," the gentle hobbit said. "It's so lovely here. The fire is very warm."

"I don't know if that walk in the rain was good for you. I know you get sick easily."

"That's all right; I don't mind. It doesn't make me unhappy, so you don't need to worry. As long as everyone else is pleased, so am I." He smiled that sweet, innocent smile and sipped at his drink. "This is quite delicious," he said. "Would you like me to go get you one?"

"No, no, it's all right, Bingo. I can get one myself. Sit and rest a bit. You were quite tired after our walk."

"It was good exercise," said Bingo, but he obeyed and sat quietly, gazing about him and sipping thoughtfully at his drink.

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' abruptly stopped drumming his fingers on the table and started to rise to leave. "Rohan. Yes, beautiful land and excellent horses."

"If you'll exscuse me, I'm going to check on my horse." He rose to go to the stables. "Care to come along?"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"Hmm?" Willow shook her head sharply, to clear out the sudden mist that had taken over her mind. She glanced over at Mira, who was looking at her, with a question, or something in her eyes. She struggled to stand up, her tiredness not helping her in the least.

Trying to remember what had just been said, Willow rubbed her eyes. "Oh yes. A walk." She blinked hard, struggling to regain control over herself; her body pleading for nightfall to take her. "Yes, I think a walk would indeed be what I need," she replied.

Steadying herself by grabbing the table, Willow stood up, and stretched herself out, as she normally would when tired. Looking around the Inn, she noticed that they were not the only tired ones out there. Seemingly, night would have to fall quickly, for the slight rainfall hadn't done much for the tired folk around. "All right, Mira, Lily, let's go," she added, even in her state of tiredness, a sense of command taking in over her. She was, at times, a leader, though not all the time. More rightly, she was stubborn, and thick-headed. She wasn't about to let herself fall asleep there, not again. It was bad enough to drift off into a slight nap, but to actually fall asleep wasn't nice.

Willow led the way to the cloak room, knowing well enough that the other two hobbits would follow quick enough anyhow, as Mira had waken herself enough with another hot drink, and Lily was the least sleepy of the bunch anyhow.

She picked up her cloak, and pinned it around her shoulders, looking around for the others to follow her out the door, and into the cool mists that still hovered outdoors, though the clouds had cleared, and the rain was gone. The day had fallen into a shadowy mist, and through the sunlight, piercing rays would light the darkness, and highlight the shadows. Willow couldn't wait to see what the day would offer in the misty grounds of the Inn.

[rutslegolas]

Harold Brandybuck had gone out of his little Shire to a far off country called Rohan and now he was back after much time,he was sore and needed a drink so he went to his local Green Dragon Inn after perhaps a year or so he thought.

It was mid-afternoon he went and sat at the bar and ordered a pint of ale ,he wished he had never gone to Rohan but now he was back and he nedded news about his dear Shire .

So he started talking with a nearby Gaffer about what was happening in the Shire ,the Gaffer wasa most amused when he heard that Harold a Hobbit had gone to a far off country called Rohan.

And they talked over a pint of ale about the happenings in their beloved Shire.

[Kitanna]

Peony smiled, rising from her own seat. "Of course, I promised a visit to my own horse after my ride this morning. If you do not mind I have to get an apple. I will be right back."

Peony left Jean for a moment and caught one of the hobbit lasses as she was heading for the kitchen. Peony asked her to bring back an apple for her. She only had to wait a moment before the young hobbit returned with a shiny red apple. Peony thanked her and returned to Jean. "Shall we?"

[Kransha]

The usually jocund, emerald green eyes of Tobias Hornblower the Third, were suddenly immersed in a frosty silence, a reserved melancholia. His sharp, hooked nose was turned down as he let his stubbly head of long, unkempt strands of mahogany hair tempered with aging gray fall without heed onto his face. He nursed his dented tankard daintily, caressing the rim of the cup with his scrawny, gnarled index finger, emitting a very slight, whirring hum that filled his quivering, sharp ears. He sighed deeply, his ridiculously clothed just puffing out majestically before slumping back in upon itself, deflating the area that occupied the roomy confines of his sequined golden vest, the last thing that had actually remained intact since his arrival. His breeches were torn, tattered at the legs, his shielding frock was covered with the caked blotches of dried mud and all the miscellaneous straw that could cling to them. His overcoat was covered, for the most part, with the saliva of the homicidal animals who inhabited the Green Dragon stable, who were apparently out to get him.

It had barely been a day, not that Toby cared, since Snaveling and Roa left the Green Dragon Inn for the south, headed to the grand white city which Toby had only heard about. He vaguely remembered his withered fingers tracing the etched pictographs of old lore volumes unearthed from the chasms of library shelves that dotted the innards of his ample plantation back in the Southfarthing, most dusty relics that had survived since the age of his distant relation, Tobold Hornblower. He had read those tales with sagging eyes, festooned with wintry tedium as he left the records absent-mindedly behind. How he’d hated those things back then, the grandiose cities, looming with their terminating, towering pinnacles far from Eriador, tales of daring folk he’d never meet battling incomprehensible monsters he’d never see. But now, now he wanted all that. Light came at a price, and that price was more than curiosity, it was necessity. Toby Hornblower did not want to leave the Shire, he needed to leave the Shire, and yet both conflicted. He would be loath to leave his newfound home, but he had to, he simply had to.

But what was his home, anyway? When he arrived for a ‘brief’ stay at the inn of the Green Dragon, an unimposing little structure with a warm, flickering hearth-fire and plenty of ale all about, he’d hoped to leave the place as soon as his stumpy little legs could carry him. But now, now he couldn’t even tear himself from here to return to his sisters, brothers, cousins, nieces, and nephews in Longbottom. If he relocated yet again, would he find a new home away from them too? He could still remember, though, the days when he was with them, sitting in a swaying old seat of gilt oak wood on the porch of his pipeweed plantation, watching with a skeptical scowl as his younger relatives frolicked vivaciously through his crops. He’d almost taken a cane to them once for stepping on a surplus of his favorite Longbottom Leaf. The hobbit had been a monstrosity, an old coot who only his sisters and brothers could love. He remembered their faces, some tanned from days in the sun, some pale with the smooth complexion of polished porcelain, some a mixture of each. He missed them. He hadn’t even realized he really missed them until now. But, he was home.

As Toby’s gaze managed to yank itself sideways, he looked drearily upon the new arrivals. There were hobbits, men, elves, all the same. Toby saw the same familiar glow reminiscent in their looks and did not hesitate to scowl again. He was not antisocial, though the look of him spoke otherwise, he had seen what there was and life was a monotonous regularity, but he loved it all the same. Slowly, as he looked down at his murky reflection in the ale, his mouth opened, as barely audible words began to form on his lips. He’d never sung a song, Toby Hornblower, never in his life. He’d only heard a few worth remembering. One had been sung by Snaveling, but he felt unworthy to recite that beautiful, preternatural ode. The only other tune he’d ever committed to himself was something sung in tandem by his eldest niece, still young. He could see her, sitting on the lap of her father, not yet of age herself, and reciting back to him the song she’d just learned, her own gentle hazel eyes and fiery hair sparkling with the residue of pure, untainted happiness. He knew the words, he knew the tune, and he finally knew what it all meant.

Hey-ho, where e’er the wind blows,
The ships, they may come, the ships may go,
But e’er there’s a log to make the fire glow,
Wherever I am will be home.

Hey-hum, t’were the moon or the sun,
And the trees they may sway and the rivers may run,
But e’er there’s a pipe and a tankard of rum,
Wherever I am will be home.

Hey-har, in the light of the star,
‘Neath the blackest of skies and the mountains afar,
But e’er there’s a smile and some ale on the bar,
Wherever I am will be home.

Hey-hee, oh, whatever I see,
If ‘tis Bywater, Tuckborough, Buckland, or Bree,
As long as warm faces are looking on me,
Wherever I am will be home...

[Firefoot]

Lily got up, stretched, and followed Willow to the cloak room. She was relieved to be getting out of the Inn's common room, which was getting more and more crowded and was starting to seem a bit stuffy to Lily. She was more accustomed to the fresh air of nature than the close quarters of an Inn. She found her dark blue cloak among the others and put it on as she walked over to where Willow and Mira were waiting.

When they got outside, Lily took a deep breath and let it out. The air had the fresh, newly-washed feel of the end of a rainstorm. It was cooler than it had been earlier, though not unpleasant, and everything was wet from the shower. Dark clouds in the distance held the possibility of more rain later, but for now the sun was shining, causing the droplets on the grass to glisten softly. Lily felt refreshed and more awake already.

They wandered down the path in comfortable silence. Lily heard a bird singing happily somewhere nearby. She smiled. She wasn't headed anywhere in particular and was content to just enjoy the companionship of friends and the pleasantries of the outdoors.

[Dîm Silverrage]

Dîm Silverrage

Just as Lily and Willow heard the bird singing the content morning tune, another entity heard the the same cheerful song. The grass surrounding the dirt road was wet and green, and the trees were humming with cicadas. From aways off, could be heard the sound of cart wheels rumbling along the rough track and the clickity-clockiting of mule-hooves.

As the cart's noises slowly advanced on the two lasses. Just bearly over the sound of the cart and donkey, a baritone voice humming a foriegn tune could be heard from the same direction.

Finally the cart rounded the last vegitation-covered mound and came into sight. Clicking along the road tetiously, the sad-looking mule pulled the rickity cart along. Exhaling a long negative grunt, it grueled along. The driver, a dwarf puffed on a pipe with some newly added weed all the way from the Iron Hills.

By the looks of the dimunitive being, he was very young for a dwarf, maybe sixty years at the most. His eyes were young and icy blue, and no signs of age (not including the blond beard hiding his chiselled features) were upon his face.

The dwarf wore a worn green tunic with a soft leather-armor vest studded with dull metal forged in Eriador. Upon his head sat a torn grey warg-hide-lined cap. The traveler wore a dark brown cloak coated with a thick layer of wax to repel water and large black boots crusted with dry mud.

In the cart was a few packages covered by canvas a circular wooden sheild with an iron band surrounding it. In the middle was painted a red dragon flying in a circle. Below it was a lone mountain. The Lonely Mountain to be exact. Sitting next to the shield was a dirty sword with a bit of black blood stained upon it. At one time, it might have been a beautiful elegant weapon, but now it was only a tool for flaying, hacking, and slicing. Adjacent to his melee weapons, stood a quiver with arrows and bolts, and a small crossbow and a crude bow. If an elf would even get a glimpse of these long-range weapons and he or she would pale in horror.

This particular dwarf was named Dîm Silverrage, son of Janoin and Isilda Silverrage. Dîm was always a dwarf who had a lust for travel, adventure, and violence. Growing up in the Iron Mountains, defending his home from Orcs and men allied with Sauron, he was a well seasoned warrior, but with an optimistic and kind side to almost everything and everyone.

Dîm left home about three years ago for travel and adventure, promising to bring home treasures and stories the dwarves of the Iron Hills have never heard or even thought of before. He had travelled for a long time and now had many stories and plenty of treasures. The downside was Dîm had wander-lust, a disease diagnosed in many travelers. The dwarf had forgotten the meaning of home and family. Now he contently roamed Middle Earth, going and travelling as he pleased.

As the cart met up to Willow and Lily, he tipped the faded and torn blue cap upon his head and smiled with his pipe to one corner of his mouth, showing off his cheery dimples.

"Good day to yeh, lasses" Dîm exclaimed happily to the two ladies, puffing a few in the statement.

[Sirithheruwen]

Twylight was staring off into space. The door to the Inn beside her banged again and again with people coming in and out, but she didn't notice very much. Every now and again the voices in the crowded room would swell up in a shout for another ale or a call for a song, but by the time the words reached her ears, they meant nothing.

Shaking her head, Twylight began to reach for that spare piece of parchment. With a low gasp, she realized it wasn't there. Her suspicions were immeadiatly pinned on the dark man in the corner, but when she turned, he was still sitting in the exact same place with the red-haired lady.

Gazing around the Inn, she noticed a man with a stocky frame sitting not too far away. He had a merry face with roundish red cheeks. He reminded her of a song sung to her long ago about a man by the name of Tom Bombadil. But that was impossible, if the song was true, for Tom never left his little area of land.

All of a sudden he stood up and began to walk over in her direction. Belatedly, she saw a scrap of parchment in his hand - her scrap of parchment. Frantically, she motioned to the serving hobbit, but the man seemed not to notice. Her eyes got wider and wider as he sat down at her table. He said something about hre throat and introduced himself. Just then the hobbit lass walked up.

"M'am?" She questioned, gazing at the new arrival curiously.

"Two ales, please!" the man said without a pause, sending the hobbit on her way.

Twylight's lifeline was gone, and she was left alone with the man.

Gulping visibly, Twylight stared at the man, her face was set impassively in stone.

[Mad Baggins]

Mira sniffed the outdoor air, crisp and clean, and her head cleared instantaneously. She, Lily and Willow ambled down the path, none of them speaking, just enjoying the rainwashed grass in silence. She shivered a little and pulled her cloak closer about her, the air chilled by the rain.

How beautiful the land is after a rainfall, Mira thought, letting her mind drift away upon the cool, misty air and sunny sky. Her reverie was interrupted by a young-looking dwarf who greeted them: "Good day to yeh, lasses."

Mira shook her thoughts away and looked at the dwarf, whose blue eyes twinkled merrily. She considered his cart and the mule towing it and curtsied, saying, "Good day, sir. How are you liking this lovely morning? Beautiful, isn't it?" As she awaited his reply, she unconsciously moved toward the mule and began stroking its forehead and its whiskery muzzle.

[Nurumaiel]

Blanco and Posco joined their friends by the fireplace, chuckling in delight over their newly-acquired mugs of beer. Blanco peered into Bingo's mug and shook his head in a gesture of despair. When would Bingo learn how good ale was? He never would drink it, but was forever sipping at hot tea. Hot tea was good, of course, but when you were at a bar... It was funny the way the two of them had met. Blanco had been walking along by the Brandywine and had seen the oddest little hobbit sitting by the water. It had been Bingo, who confessed he couldn't swim. Blanco had pointed out to him the dangers of sitting so close to the water when he couldn't swim. Bingo had been quite surprised. Bingo had always been ignorant and innocent. Blanco had invited Bingo to come have tea with him. They had just become friends after that. That had been a year ago.

Posco nudged his twin brother (for Blanco was his twin brother) and pointed across the room with wide eyes. "See, Blanco, there are Elves here."

"How interesting," said Blanco. "Perhaps we should make their acquaintance."

"Oh no!" Posco cried in alarm. "They're Elves."

"Then we'll just sing a rousing song, shall we? What was that song I just heard? Very good song... hum dee dum... it went like so...

"Hey-hee, oh, whatever I see,
If ?tis Bywater, Tuckborough, Buckland, or Bree,
As long as warm faces are looking on me,
Wherever I am will be home."

Posco buried himself deep into his chair next to Bingo, hoping not too many people were looking at his brother. When the song ended he breathed a sigh of relief that the ordeal was over, but Blanco paused a moment, drew his eyebrows together, then smiled and kept singing.

"Hey-hood, this ale is good
and puts me in such a cheery mood
all I lack is a fine plate of food
and then wherever I am will be home."

He looked immensely pleased with himself when he finished and Bingo applauded him with a wide smile. Marcho scowled deeply. "How many times have I told you this... you are absolutely no good at writing songs." Blanco frowned back at him and then smiled at Bingo. At least someone appreciated his fine talent. What was Posco looking so embarrassed about? Really, his friends were all quite hopeless! Even Marcho, who was the eldest of them all. And Bingo, the youngest, was the one with sense. How odd the Shire was.

Posco crouched miserably in his chair and hoped none of the Elves had heard the song. Blanco was constantly humiliating himself in front of hobbits, and that was bad enough, but with Elves it was unbearable. What about the poor hobbit whose song and been so brutally mutilated by his foolish brother? Bingo was the only one in their little company who was safe to be around.

[Arry]

Ah! There it was!

The sun had broken through the clouds as he neared the path that would take him up to the Inn. A fine mist shimmered about the building and its grounds. Alwin blinked his eyes in wonder at the sight. Something out of faerie, it looks . . . he thought, leaning on his blackthorn stick. He had been gone a while, taking a friend to her homeland, and now was traveling through, bound north beyond the long river.

‘Wotcher lookin’ at, Sir?’ piped up a small voice at his side. Clive, it was. Or rather, Jack as he preferred to be called, thinking it made him seem more manly. Eleven years old and full of himself . . . Jack squinted hard at the building down the little lane. Ordinary enough, he thought. He looked up at his companion; the old fellow had that faraway look in his eyes, same as when he told Jack stories.

‘Come, Grandfather!’ he urged the old man. ‘Kiera said I was to watch over you. Keep you safe and the like.’ He tugged on Alwin’s grey cloak, smiling as the old man focused his blue eyes down on him. ‘Here you are, all standin’ in the mud and mist and such. The air’s still chilly from the rain. And I’m hungry. Aren’t you?’

Alwin chuckled at the boy’s insistence, reaching down his gnarled hand to ruffle the sandy-haired head. Looking back at the Inn, he saw the spell was broken. The Green Dragon stood sturdy and shining after the rain’s washing. Smoke angle up lazily from the main chimney giving promise of a cheery fire within. A sudden breeze brought the smells of the afternoon’s meal. The heady aroma of some rich soup enticed his nose and set his stomach rumbling.

‘Right you are, then Jack! I’ve a mind to put my feet up by the fire – a mug of spiced wine in one hand and a bowl of soup by the other. You run ahead, if you will, and find us a table close to the hearth. I’ll be there directly.’

The old man smiled fondly as the boy trotted off, calling out to him as he neared the Inn steps. ‘Mind you knock the mud off your boots, lad!’

[Kransha]

Oddly enough, Toby suddenly felt belated. Drowning in the irksome angst of his surroundings, hearing what sounded like an echo of his barely audible tune was at first startling. The hobbit realized that someone else was singing, but had transferred the key of the song to a more jaunted, brisk verse. The middle-aged Hafling wasn’t entirely sure whether this other, jocund fellow knew the Southfarthing song, or had simply picked it up from him. The way he went through the piece, jovial and brimming with a frothy confidence, but obviously stumbling over some of it, indicated the latter. He turned his head swiftly, snapping to one side and sending his hair flying as he caught sight of the new arrivals, who had taken up temporary residence by the dancing flames of the fireplace, bathing themselves and their drinks in its constant light.

Amazingly, Toby Hornblower actually felt the unaccustomed twinge of a grin creasing over his wizened features and a chuckle rumbling deep in his broad throat. Then, to his own great shock and muddled horror, he laughed aloud, watching as the bubbling foam in his ale tankard bubbled and shrunk from the sound of his voice, apparently protesting at the laughing Halfling. He pulled himself up on the rickety stool, almost tipping it and his ready mug, and hopped off onto the furnished floor, feeling strangely renewed. Sitting at the origin point of the festive verse was a quartet of Halflings, two looking exactly alike each other, save for their gaits and standings. One of the two identical hobbits seemed swollen to the point of explosion, while the other looked reserved, quieted by something. The other two were different, one more stern and well-postured were he sat, the final one similarly meek, but fervent in youth. The youngest bore a mild resemblance to Toby’s elder cousin, the thought of whom made Toby melt back into faded reminicense. But, he overlooked his mournful memories and jogged his way over to the hobbits resolutely. He was extraordinarily eager to see a good, plain group of simple Shire hobbits. He no longer had anything against foreigners, but he hadn’t seen the calming visage of a genuine Halfling before unseen in too long. The Dragon may have had its share of little folk, but elves, men, dwarves, and every sort of creature upon Arda save hobbits seemed to be slowly populating the place on Bywater Road, in this little region pockmarking Eriador.

Hurrying along through the murk of the crowd, gentle light that glowed luminously in the hearth flickered as soothed shadows danced over Toby’s face and eyelids. He proceeded at last to them, noting duly that they barely noticed him at first, or at least most did not. One looked up, his face almost slated with an expression of fear, which managed to amuse Toby. The hobbit began to leap up, looking apologetic for some reason that had escaped Tobias, but the Longbottom hobbit cut him off, gaining the attention of all four with his more typical, grandiose manner of speaking.

“Excuse me, good sirs. I couldn’t help but here your merry tune, and wanted to say that it was indeed a rousing verse. It’s been quite a time when hobbits have sung a song in this inn and yours most certainly did justice to the old tune. Well met, my friends.” Extending his gruff, dirt-clothed hand, Toby tried to widen his weak excuse for a smile. The one who’d been singing let his own hobbit hand shoot out and shook Toby’s with vigorous resolve, who was forced to yank his hand from the Halfling to extract it from his tight and energetic grip. He didn’t pull back, though, as he would’ve under most other existing circumstances. He gave the hobbit a swift and obligatory nod before turning to the others. “Tobias Hornblower the Third of the Southfarthing, Keeper of the best Pipeweed in all the Shire, at your service.”

[Nurumaiel]

"Blanco Brandybuck at yours!" Blanco took Toby's hand again and shook it. Posco gently pulled his brother away, blushing and murmuring inaudible apologies. He put his own hand out and shook Toby's with a shy little smile, and Blanco said, "This is Posco Brandybuck, my brother." He put a firm arm about Toby's shoulders and put him in front of Marcho. "And this is Marcho... Marcho Brandybuck, who is my first cousin once removed... I think. He might have been my second cousin." Blanco turned and began questioning Posco about it. Marcho shook Toby's hand and managed a gruff little smile. "It's good to see another hobbit here," he said.

Bingo stood of his own accord and approached Toby with that beautiful smile, his large blue eyes shining with friendliness. Blanco thought again what an odd-looking hobbit he was. A whole year and he still thought of it. Bingo took Toby's hand, gave a queer little bow, and said, "Bingo Cotton of Buckland. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, sir." He paused for a moment to let Toby take in his name before speaking again. "I'm very glad you enjoyed my friend Blanco's addition to your song. It was a lovely song, I think." Whether Bingo meant Blanco's addition or the original words Toby could not tell.

Bingo pulled a chair out from their little table and gestured for Toby to sit down. "Please, sir, if you would, sit, and I will go get you a drink."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow turned at the sound of wheels grating over the rough dirt road, and grinned at the sight of the dwarf coming down the road to the 'Dragon in his heacy cart. Dwarves had been a common enough sight in the Shire before, it didn't shock her to see him arive. "Good day to yeh, lasses," the dwarf greeted.

"Good day, sir. How are you liking this lovely morning? Beautiful, isn't it?" asked Mira, smiling softly, as she moved over to stroke the mule that pulled the dwarves cart.

Willow smiled, and bowed slightly. "Good afternoon, master dwarf," she said, a smile on her face, as the coolness from the rainfall waking her fully though, in the back of her mind, a sleepyness still tugged, and threatened to cause her a yawn, and again, she wished that night would come all the more swiftly. "I am Willow," she said, in way of an introduction. "These are my companions, Mira, and Lily. Welcome to the Green Dragon."

There were birds in the distance, though Willow listened to them only faintly, as they were still away in the distance, and she had other things to worry over at the moment. The clouds had cleared away, though, if one was to look beyond the trees that clustered near around the Inn grounds, they would see that the dark clouds still loomed on the horizon, threatening once again to release their contents upon the land. But for now the day was fair, and flowers began to peek their way from little crevices, and birds hovered in the sky, searching for the worms that would be drawn to the ground by the dampness.

There was still a chill though the rain was gone, and Willow found herself tucking in her green cloak around her, to keep the warmth in, and the chill out, though on her face, the mist was refreshing indeed. The walk had been a fine choice.

"And what do they call you, master dwarf?" she inquired politely.

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' walked briskly to the stables and made his way to a stall where a fierce-eyed gray stallion was prancing. Once again 'Jean' began to mutter under his breath, sounding angry. The stableboy had not even bothered to remove the saddle! Jean did so, dusting off a new blanket before draping it across the gray's back. Amongst a few frustrated expletives, Peony heard 'Jean' call the boy "little Curufin".

'Jean' produced a brush from inside his saddlebags and began to groom the horse expertly. After a moment he began to speak, almost as if more to the air than to Peony. "My father was a marvelous equestrian. He taught me horsemanship, including to ride barebacked. His name" referring to the horse "is Storm. I purchased him in Rohan. He has carried me safely for many years, and there is no truer horse in the Riddermark."

'Jean' put the brush away and dumped out the bucket of dirty water the stableboy had shoved in the stall, refilling it with a fresh flask from his bag. 'Jean' fed Storm an apple, and began to caress the stallion's long face, whispering to him softly in fluent High-Elven. It seemed to have a calming effect on the fierce prancer. Peony was sure if anyone else had come near that horse they would have benn bitten- or trampled.

[Dîm Silverrage]

Dîm cracked his neck on impulse. No longer something he did when he felt like it, it was a habit. Icy blue eyes shimmering in contrast to his golden beard he puffed a cloud of smoke from the mahogany pipe resting in the corning of his full lips. Watching it rise up into the moist cold sky, it was swept away from a cool breeze, chilling the dwarf.

"Some call me Silverrage, others Dîm, but you may call me Dîm Silverrage, or Dîm for short. Doesn't really matter to mehself really." the curious-acting humanoide riddled.

Dîm Silverrage snuggled down into the seat of his cart and shuffled his toes around in his leather boots, trying to remain comfortably warm. The breeze that blew one of his recent puffs of smoke(seven more were already made and gone in the mild gail after that) blew through the trees, yielding the cicadas buzzing tune and the solo of the songbird.

Turning back to the women below him, he let out another burst of smoke and shifted his face into a quizzical smile, eyebrows cocked up ward. His dwarven facade looking amusing, he spoke in the raspy and deep, but young sounding, voice.

"And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this fair day?", The dwarf questioned(with two more puffs)

[Kitanna]

Peony looked at Jean's stallion, Storm. It was a fine horse indeed. She went over to Surefoot's stall and fed the mare her apple. "I wish I could say Surefoot here was a horse of the Riddermark, but alas she was bred in Minas Tirith."

Peony stroked Surefoot's face. "Not one of the fine Rohan horses, but she has been a true friend to me for many years."

[Firefoot]

"And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this fair day?" asked the Dwarf. Lily frowned so briefly that unless one had been watching her they would have missed it. Didn't Willow already introduce us? she thought. Oh, well. Maybe he didn't hear.

"Nice to meet you, Master Dîm," Lily said, smiling once more. "My name is Lily, and this is Willow, and Mira." She surveyed Dîm up and down. He looked young for a Dwarf, but well-travelled. His cloak was worn and travel-stained. His cart was heavy-laden, presumably with packages from his travels. Lily had met several Dwarves in Bree, most of them journeying to and from their mines in the Blue Mountains. Some of them were good and polite folk, but others of them were down-right rascals. She deemed Dîm to be of the former group. Lily felt rather sorry for his mule though, pulling that heavy cart all by itself, and probably for long distances. She scrached the mule's whiskery nose, and when she stopped, he nudged her for more. Poor guy. Hopefully Dîm will be staying at the Dragon for a while - then he would get some rest, she thought.

"I suppose you will be staying at the Green Dragon, Master Dîm? Will you be staying long?" asked Lily. As she waited for his answer, she wrapped her cloak around her tightly against the chilly breeze that came up, bringing a heavier mist with it. I suppose it will rain again soon, she thought sullenly. It's not raining now, be thankful for that.

[Bombadil]

After Iadarion purchased the drink for the mysterious woman he turned back to see her acting very uncomfortable.

"Oh hey dol, look at you! You must be sweating you're so nervous! Fear not, shy one, I am not here to cause you any harm!"

Her untrusting eyes did not settle, but she pointed to his boots of yellow.

"Oh come now! Do you think I am Tom Bombadil? Last I looked, good ole Tom didn't have long blonde hair! No, i got these strands from my mother! For I am the son of the river and the forest!" He smiled and watched as the server placed 2 mugs on the table. "In my home of Eryn Lasgalen, they call me Iardarion, and so I have come to live by it! Now what be your name!"

He thought he saw a smile on the woman's face, but he was not sure whether it was good-natured or because she was nervous. He took the parchment that he had picked up and dropped it in front of her on the table.

"So," Iadarion said, "tell me of yourself."

[Arry]

Jack scraped the mud off his boots as best he could, then pushed on the heavy oaken door with both his arms. He turned for a brief moment and waved back at Alwin, grinning broadly as the old man motioned him on with a shake of his walking stick. He paused for a moment in the entryway, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light of the Inn.

There to his right along the wall was the big stone fireplace. Two large logs crackled and popped against each other, driving away the earlier dampness of the day. To one side he saw a number of Hobbit men, five in fact. There were smiles on their faces, and a sense of camaraderie in the way they greeted and spoke with each other. At one point one of them began to sing, his efforts greeted with a range of acceptance by his mates. And over there was an interesting looking fellow, green-cloaked and yellow-booted. A big smile wreathed the man’s features, hidden now and then by the generous cloud of smoke from his pipe.

‘Well, this looks like a pretty fair place old Alwin’s brought us to!’ he said out loud, to no one in particular.

A polite cough at his elbow drew his attention, and turning he found himself face to face with one of the serving lasses. Buttercup, she said, smiling sweetly at the young boy. And what would the young master be wanting at the Inn she continued.

‘That table over there by the fire – the one with the chair by the hearth. And cider for me please,’ he said, his eyes lighting up at the thought of the sweet drink. ‘Oh and a bowl of that soup I can smell all the way out here from the kitchen . . . and bread with some honey.’ Jack blushed as Buttercup as she laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘Will that be all, little master,’ she said grinning as she took him to the table and settled him in. ‘Or will you be saving any room for a slice of the apple tart I just saw Ruby take from the oven?’

‘Apple tart,’ he squeaked, his eyes gone wide. ‘Oh, yes please! I’m sure I’ll have room.’

The door to the Inn opened wide, and Alwin stepped in, blinking like an old owl. Jack stood up on the seat of his chair and waved him over. ‘Why it’s Master Alwin,’ said Buttercup, smiling as the older man approached. ‘Nice to have you back, Sir . . .’

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal got up from the table and headed out to the stables. She just didn't know if she could stay anymore. She wanted to look at the horses, to get a sense of freedom.

She walked in and noticed others, but didn't give them much thought. She went over to a horse that she had seen before and stroked its face softly. She over heard someone talking about a non true Rohan horse, but she didn't care. She had no other reasons to fear people from Rohan since her father's death. It just wasn't important any longer.

The disappearance of Angry Brandybuck made her incredibly sad. She had to wonder if he was with his parents and his parents-whom she had already met-had taken him and brought him back home. She was sure that it was it. They hadn't been very happy with the thought of a human woman staying in his hobbit hole, but they had been furious with the fact of their love for each other. Or that is what Crystal had originally thought. She had thought that they did love each other, that they would marry and live happily ever after. She had been wrong.

"Crystal?" A deep voice asked her as she stood there. She turned, her eyes widening. Arty, her Arty was standing there. Alive! There was no way possible. She had seen her father kill him when he was just a lad, almost pushing Crystal over the edge of sanity. Yet, there he stood all grown up.

"Arty?" She asked him, not wanting to believe what her eyes saw. He nodded. She stepped backward and hit the wood of the stall.

"How can it be? My father killed you!" She said in shock. He smiled and stepped forward. He took her hand in his.

"He didn't kill me. He wounded me. He thought he killed me as well. Bartholomew even thought I was dead. He has no idea. I heard you were residing in this place, this Shire as they call it. I had to come and find you since your father was killed by me." He said quickly.

She swallowed hard. The death of her father had come at the hands of her love? The man that she had always thought about each and everyday.

"How did you pull off being supposedly dead. And how did you kill my father?" She asked him, totally bewildered.

"I don't know how I pulled off being supposedly dead, but I saw him and decided to take out my revenge. He separated us, I shall never forgive him for that."

"Do you have any idea what I have been through, Arty? Do you? I have been grieving your death for years. I still have. I continuously think about you and wish that my father hadn't done what he had done. You don't realize how angry I am at you. Besides I have moved on."

There was a deep silence that came over them. He looked at her in shock and there was the thread of hurt that she knew all too well. His eyes were the same shocking blue that they always had been and his hair that chestnut brown she loved so much. He had become a man in the time that she had thought he was "dead." He had grown up and she had to wonder if he was thinking the same things about her. She had changed, had grown up during his absence. She had gone through so much since she had thought her father had killed him, and yet here he was in front of her. And she had just told him she had moved on.

In actuallity she hadn't in her mind. Yes, she and Angry had talked about getting married and things of that nature-but she had always had to fight to keep Arty from her mind. Two men, both named Arthur and both with a nickname -she had no idea what to do.

"Who is the lucky man?" He asked her softly.

"A hobbit."

His eyes widened, "A hobbit?" She nodded.

"Why a hobbit? Why?" He asked her angrily.

"He acted as if he loved me."

"As if he loved you. Where is this hobbit. I'll fight him for your hand."

"He is not here, Arty. He has disappeared and I can not find him."

"Why? Did he leave? Did he decided that you were not good enough for him?"

"I don't know. There was nothing taken from his home."

"And you know that how?"

"I live with him."

"Unmarried?!"

"Yes."

"That's blasphemy against all your morals, Crystal!"

"Well I thought you were dead! Besides I had an illness. He saved me from dying!"

"But he's a hobbit!"

"What do you care?!"

"I care because I love you still, Crystal!!"

"WELL MAYBE I STILL LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!"

The arguement stopped. They stood in front of each other, just looking at each other. Tears welled up in Crystal's eyes. Arty took her in his arms and held her as she cried. He kissed her forehead gently.

"I love you, Crystal."

"I love you too. Don't leave me again." He nodded as he just held her. They were together once more, nothing would drive them apart not even the hobbit if he ever returned.

[Sirithheruwen]

Twylight was already beginning to feel less uncomfortable around the strange man. The blood had stopped pounding in her ears and she was able to catch the man's name - Iadarion. He also mentioned something about being the son of the river and forest, but she didn't quite catch all of it because she was thinking. She decided to trust Iadarion, and she treated him with a smile.

She came out of her reverie to hear him say, "So, tell me of yourself."

Twylight didn't know what to do. She couldn't speak, but she didn't know how to get that across. She pointed to the piece of parchment full of her long, loopy handwriting with a question in her eyes. She hoped he knew what he was asking for. She couldn't communicate with him any other way. What if she pretended not to understand...no...she trusted the man, even though her brain was telling her not to. She felt comfortable around him, like she had never felt around anyone before.

With a grin, he pulled a large sheet of parchment out of a pack on his back Twylight hadn't noticed before. She took out her rock and began to write, smiling as she did so:

My name is Twylight. It's very nice to meet you, Iadarion.

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Buttercup looked the old fellow up and down. A little worse for wear, she thought, too long on the road. But nothing that a bath, a soft, warm bed, and a change of fresh clothes couldn’t cure. And Jack . . . where had Alwin picked up the little urchin, she wondered.

‘We wondered where you’d gone off to, Sir,’ she said. ‘Some saw you on the edges of Hobbiton heading south I think they said, with some little companion. Is this he?’

[Arry]

Jack had scrambled down from his chair to pull out the one nearest the fire for his companion. Alwin lowered himself with an oomph and a sigh onto the seat, then handed his walking stick and pack to Jack to stow in a nearby corner. His grey, stained cape he unclasped and let drape over the chair’s back. ‘I must look a sight!’ he said, crinkling his brow at the Hobbit lass. ‘Been traveling up from Kiera’s homeland for weeks now . . . not many Inns for travelers in that wild country.’ He saw the look of puzzlement in her eyes at the mention of ‘Kiera’. Kiera’s the one with whom I traveled south. Long journey that, but she proved an interesting companion. One of the Drughu. She was here at the same time I was, but hid herself away . . . a shy people, they are, not given to contact much with others outside their kind. Anyway, she was safely delivered to her people’s old homeland and I took my leave of her. Heading for parts north and east to see what’s there.’ His gaze drifted off with a faraway look. ‘Had to rough it, we did,’ he said turning at this last part and winking at Jack. ‘Kiera sent him,’ Alwin explained. ‘To see to me.’

Buttercup looked at the scrawny lad, her brows raised in assessment. He met her gaze steadily, his expression guileless.

‘And a right help he’s been!’ continued the old man. ‘Master Fire Builder, I’ve named him.’ Jack puffed up with pride. ‘And don’t forget The Great Hare Huntsman, Master Alwin!’ he chirped, pulling one of his little corded snares from his pocket to show Buttercup.

‘But for now, I think we’ll just rest easy in your good hands, little mistress,’ he said smiling at Buttercup. ‘Some hot food for us, if you will. And a mug of the Dragon’s fine spiced wine . . . steaming! To warm up these old bones of mine.’ He fished into his little coin purse and drew out several old coins, pushing them toward her. ‘And a room, with a soft bed and plenty of quilts for me . . . with a little cot for Jack . . .’

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' gave a farewell pat to Storm, promising to return early in the morning. Then he stepped over to Surefoot's stall.

He looked Surefoot over well, up and down, looking in all the right places, like a seasoned horseman. Bending down to feel the horse's ankles, he remarked "This is a fine horse indeed. Bred in Minas Tirith, you say? Not many horses there. The Gondorians always were ones to favor infantry above calvalry. Whence the name Surefoot?"

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac began to grow terribly uncomfortable from the silence between Adu and himself. He didn't know what to make of it and, being the shy one, didn't know what to say to start any kind of conversation with his old friend. He had never been good at that, even back when he was known as 'Jack'.

"You know, you always did sit to my left. Even back when we would go riding you would stay on my left. I even remember one time when we were sparring, you landed a nasty blow to my left side. You bothered me about tending to it for days until I finally just decided to allow you to. I've still got the scar that that blow gave me..." Isaac began to babble on about the past and how he felt that his memories were returning to him because of her. It was true and he believed it. Just being around her again was restoring all of his memories from his past. Just then, he stopped talking and got a wierd feeling, like he was being watched by someone...or something...

[Kitanna]

"It is true," Peony said, stroking Surefoot's mane, "We from Gondor favor an infantry battallion over a cavarly. But we are proud of the horses we have."

Surefoot nudged Jean's hand, perhaps hoping he'd pett her. "As for the name Surefoot, it is pretty self explanatory. She always seems sure of where she is going. And why the name name Storm and is he a descandant of the mearas?"

[Dîm Silverrage]

Dîm looked to the grey sky. As Lily thought of the soon coming rain, the dwarf did the same. Rain! How wonderful. My favorite kind of weather.... Although this was a lie. His favorite kind of weather was no weather. Like all dwarves, this one liked the dark and damp caverns of the mountain halls. Though, Dîm really couldn't remember what the halls were like since he had been absent from the Lonely Mountain for some time now. The last time he had been in a hall was a year ago when he passed through the desolate mine of Moria, the king: Dain attempting to keep the mine up and productive.

"Nay, Lady Lilly only for a night then it's off on the road again for me. I'm travelling up North, to see if I can get my hands on anythin of the Laiquendi." he said dreamily, he always wanted to meet the Green Elves, also called the Laiquendi. Mystical remote elves that never made any settlement or fortification. They prefered the woods for a home instead of a house or castle. He admired them for their constitution....

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' smiled at Surefoot's nudge and in response began to stroke the mares face. "As for the name Storm, I chose the name because I like it. I do not know why else except his gray color reminds me of a harsh storm. Perhaps it is also his stormy nature.

"No, Storm is not descended from the Mearas as far as I know. Sometimes I believe it is possible. But I know horses and I know he is bred from the best blood on the market. His parents were both prime racers, so he is both fast and powerful."

'Jean' looked hard at Peony, perhaps seeing something he had not before. "The storm is gathering again. We should return inside. Are you hungry?"

[Bombadil]

Iadarion watched as the girl loosened up and scribbled her name on the parchment.

"Oh hey dol!" he exclaimed, annoying some around him. "It's very nice to meet you, Twylight!"

Then Iadarion broke out into what seemed to Twylight like a never-ending tale. It started out catching her interest, as he talked of his father Tom, and of the river daughter. But as his anecdotes grew longer and longer she grew very weary and impatient.

As the server was passing Twylight got her attention and scribbled:

another pint please!

It was going to be a long day.

[piosenniel]

Ruby and Buttercup marched out from the kitchen, bearing trenchers laden with bread and cheese, two bowls of stew thick with taters, fat carrots, and chicken, and two mugs - one of cider, one of hot spiced wine. They set it before Alwin and Jack, beaming as the two hungry travelers set to with a will. Ruby hurried back to the kitchen for two generous helpings of apple tart, and set them on the raised hearth, near enough the fire to keep them warm.

‘I’ll bring you a pot of hot tea when you’re ready for it,’ she said nodding toward the two bowls of dessert. 'And a pitcher of clotted cream to pour over the tart.' She glanced at the old fellow’s pack in the corner, noting the odd bulges in its contour. Not one to be shy about asking questions, she pointed toward the pack as she topped off Alwin’s mug. ‘I’m thinking there’s still a harp stuck in there, Master Alwin. And if memory serves me, you still owe a song or at least a story from your last stay with us.’

She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice. ‘I met Kiera, you know . . . well, not really met her . . . she brought us some healing herbs she gathered to replenish our supplies, during that awful fire. That and she tended the kitchen garden a bit while we were busy with the injured. Shy little thing, she was. Scarce taller than me! Had a way with the plants, that one. They never grew so lush before – and that despite the ash and smoke. We never spoke, and I half wondered if she were mute. But we nodded and smiled as we went about our business.’ Ruby broke off speaking, remembering the dark haired, olive skinned woman with the kind brown eyes. ‘Still waters run deep, or so my gran used to say. I always wanted to say how much we appreciated her help – but she was gone before we could do so.’ Ruby drummed her fingers on the table, as Alwin chewed on a thick slice of bread and spooned up his stew.

‘Maybe you could tell us a little story about her and her people?’ she urged him, picking up a slice of cheese to nibble on. ‘I never quite figured out where she hailed from.’

[Crystal Heart]

Arty and Crystal walked back to the Inn after putting his horse away in one of the stalls. She saw Adu and led Arty over there. She sat down as Arty pulled up a chair.

"Hi Adu. This is Arthur Newson, better known as Arty. He's the boy I thought Dorian killed. But he didn't!" Crystal said happily. Adu looked at the boy, as if she was trying to place him.

Arty put his arm across the back of her chair, as he always use to do. She knew that even though they still loved each other they hadn't seen each other in years. They would need to get to know one another again. That would take time, but time that Crystal was willing to spend. She asked the waitress for two pints. They came swiftly. Arty looked down at it and then back at her confused at what the drink was. She just smiled and watched as he lifted the tankard to his lips. He sipped and looked at her in surprise. She just smiled and tried to keep from laughing. His expression was something that she remembered from the years past. Even though he had grown up in appearance his personality hadn't changed-much to Crystal's relief.

[Sirithheruwen]

The afternoon with the man had started well. He had bought her a drink, which she politely sipped. Truth be told, Twylight didn't care for drinking much.

For a while she was contented to just look at the man while he told a very long and involving story, to just explore his habits. Twylight had never been in contact with many people before, so she was very interested. Eventually though, he was beginning to get to her. He was talking incessently.

Catching one of the server's attention, she scibbled down an order for a beer. She pushed it over in front of Iadarion with a note saying:

Here. Take a little rest. I don't mind. You can finish your story later.

She watched him as he drained his mug. Before he could launch himself into his tale again, she hastily scribbled:

So, what brings you to the Green Dragon Inn? It is very far from your home.

[Kitanna]

Peony shrugged, "No, I just ate not too long ago, but don't let that keep you from getting something to eat." She gave Surefoot one more friendly pat on the head. The horse whined a little as Peony and Jean turned to leave. Peony went back for another good-bye pet. "You big baby." She said, turning once again to leave.

Jean and Peony returned to the inn and took their seats back at the table. "So tell me Mr. Jean, how long have you been in the Shire?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Passing by Crystal, two pints in each hand, held above her head to stop her spilling them on anyone, Aman bumped into the other woman as she passed, and heard the woman's words.

"Hi Adu. This is Arthur Newson, better known as Arty. He's the boy I thought Dorian killed. But he didn't!"

Aman's eyebrows shot up but she gave a small whoop of laughter. "Gracious me, sounds like celebrations are in order, Crystal!" she said gleefully as the woman turned to beam at her happily. The handsome young man beside Crystal draped his arm across the back of her chair casually, looking up at Aman with a clear, direct gaze, his eyes dark and kindly, flashing with some sort of mystery, as if he knew something that the Innkeeper didn't.

"Two pints please, Aman," Crystal asked politely.

"Two? Nay, doesn't seem to me that coming back from the dead is something that happens ever day. Pints all around, and on me!" Aman was in good humour and feeling generous - and besides, the Inn was very busy tonight, and she was kept busy. The atmosphere was cosy rather than oppressive, as it so often was at the Dragon, and snatches of music and stories flitted around the Innkeeper from all directions as she wove through the croweded Common Room, depositing her drinks and picking up new orders as she went, and such was the atmosphere that Aman wouldn't be surprised if there was dancing before the night was out. Pulling a few drinks, she deftly served the few new customers at the bar and darted back across to Crystal, gracefully off-loading the pints on the table to Crystal and those around her. She winked at Arty as he picked up his pint. "I've heard a fair amount about you, sir!" she said in a stage whisper. The man laughed and Crystal blushed a little, giving Aman a playful glare. She was still beaming away though, and her hands lay on the table close to Arty's. Aman couldn't resist.

"Will you be staying a night or so, Mr Arthur?" she inquired politely, then continued, "And, sorry, I can't help asking - how is it that Crystal mistook you for dead? If you don't mind my asking, of course," she added quickly, so as not to appear brazen or rude.

[Crystal Heart]

Arty smiled at the Innkeeper as she brought pints all around.

"Well here's the story. If you have time to listen, I'd be glad to tell it. Here's the story. General Dorian, Crystal's father found out that I was courting the wonderful Miss Heart. He was furious for you see I took her out at night to show her what life was like outside the confinds of her home. He never let her out. He had found out while Crystal's mother-Sandrina was still alive. Sandrina, even though weak and ill still had some control over her husband's temper. She died suddenly, when we all believed and were told by the doctors that she would survive. Suddenly, mind you. Creating suspicion in the minds of Crystal and I that Dorian had posioned his wife."

He paused momentarily to take another drink from his tankard and continued:

"I was just a lad then, not much older then fifteen. I became angry at the sadness that had finally taken control of my lovely Crystal. So I confronted the man. I accused him of killing his wife. He became angry and fought me with his swords. I wasn't as skilled as he and was slashed in the stomach. I stopped breathing and laid so still that he thought I was dead. He didn't even come over to check if I really was. He left with Crystal crying. Now, by the time any strength had come back to me I had already fallen to unconsciousness. Some travellers who had saw the fight took me far away for they knew the dangers that Dorian could present to a young man who was wounded as badly as I was. They travelled a lot while I recovered. By the time I was fully recovered I returned to Rohan with a band of travellers. But by that time Crystal had fled Dorian and he had started up the search for her. I decided to start a search of my own."

"Crystal is a sneaky little thing. When she wants to be found she can be, and it was obvious she didn't want to be found by anyone. I followed her trail, but I couldn't find her. I was always days behind or even weeks behind her at some points. Bartholomew-my brother had no idea I was on this quest. This journey lasted three years before I finally lost her trail. So I decided to take my revenge on the man that had sent her into hiding and the one that had tried to kill me. I went after Dorian. I was the one that killed Dorian. That quest took another year and a half to complete."

"Now I'm about to turn twenty soon here in a couple of weeks and finally found out that Crystal has been hiding here in the Shire. I decided to come and find her. That's why I'm here. To save her once again."

He looked over at Crystal and smiled at her lovingly. She was the one thing that had kept him going even though she had no idea he was alive. He never was going to leave her side again.

"What about Angry, Crystal?" Adu asked her softly. Arty looked at her in confusion.

"Arty, Angry is the name of the hobbit I have been residing with. Adu-he has disappeared. I have no idea where he is. I had given up hope that Arty was alive, but I have always loved him. His family didn't agree anyway. It relieves pressure off of him now." Crystal answered quickly.

Arty took her hand. He had waited so long in trying to find her. He had even purchased several items that he knew that she would love once he found her to give them to her. But there was one item in his pocket that he could never have found in any store. He had traded it with a family that he had helped on his journy in looking for her. A valued item that she would never have believed could still exist. An item she had treasured as a child, but he knew that she thought she had lost.

He pushed back his chair and knelt down on one knee, right front of these people that he had no idea who they really all were. But it didn't matter to him now. As he had retold his story he knew that now was the best time, during this time of celebration.

"Crystal I've searched for you for quite a long time. I ask you now if you'll consent in marrying me." He asked her as he slipped onto her left ring finger her grandmother's wedding ring that her mother had wore and had passed onto her before her death. Dorian had taken it away from Crystal and traded it sometime afterwards. He hadn't known when they had traded, but the name in the band was all he needed to know that it was really her heirloom.

Crystal sat in shock, not speaking and not moving. She barely blinked. She suddenly swallowed and started to cry.

"My grandmother's, my... Where did you?"

"I found it on my journey to finding you once more."

She continued to cry and shook her head in disbelief. Finally she answered in a soft whisper, "Yes, I do consent to marrying you."

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu was suprised by what both Crystal and Isaac had to say to her. "Crystal I'm so happy for you. I knew Dorian was never good at killing someone thats why I was always the assassin. Isaac this is Crystal, I've known her all her life. She's like a daughter to me." Adu didn't want to show it but she was glad that it was over with Angry.

She looked over at her two friends. Everything was better now. All she needed was Hama.

[Bombadil]

Iadarion was delightfully drinking his ale purchased by Twylight. He already grew very fond of the girl, and the pint made his feelings stronger. Right as he finished off his last drop he looked down to see the parchment again, this time what was written said:

So what brings you to the Green Dragon Inn? It's very far from your home.

"Oh so yeh want to know do yeh!?" It seemed the ale had made th man a little tipsy. "Well - Aye have ben put in charge of the Old forest since meh father Tom and his lady disappeared- to where? Oi! Aye can't tell you! 's a secret! Baht anyways, aye decided aye shood go and check up on the trees in there. Mek sure they're not cawsin too much trooble."

Iadarion hicupped which provoked a parched laugh from Twylight who, not being a drinker herself, could handle more nectar than this man. Iadarion smiled and continued.

"Sue aye dee-cided to come en 'ere and tek a small vayy-cation."

Hiccup

Then, all of a sudden Iadarion leapt on the table and broke out into song:

Oh! Welcome all you halflings past the borders of your Shire!
To a place of green and brown and things, but never that of fire!
They say it's dark, and dangerous, and all the trees're to fear!
But my grand old home in the forest of Old, oh I say it's not so queer...!

But his embarrassing drunken song was cut short as he fell to the ground. ( To the delight of some) Twylight tried to wake him up for awhile after, and just as she gave up and was ready to leave, Iadarion sprang up and said, "So! tell me of yourself fair lady!"

All she thought of then was of what an odd fellow he was.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled brightly as she wiped her tears away.

"Adu do you remember Arty at all, the young man that accompanied me while I toured the city at night?" Crystal asked her. Arty reached over the table to shake her hand.

"If she doesn't remember me, I sure remember you. I never saw Dorian without seeing you somewhere nearby. It's nice to see once again," He said as he shook her hand.

"It is nice to meet you as well Isaac," Crystal said as she shook his hand.

Arty knew that what had just happened had flustered and surprised Crystal. What many people didn't know was if he did something so sweet in front of people she became shy, so unlike herself but at the same time exactly like herself. He had seen her blush, cry, and smile so many times in the past that he could still almost time her reactions down to the second before they happened. He smiled at his thoughts.

[Sirithheruwen]

As Iadarion told her of his home, all Twylight could focus on was how drunk he was getting. No more ales for you! she thought with a vocal laugh. The man smiled; the laugh seemed to have provoked him in some way. With a shout, Iadarion broke out into song, which startled both the local hobbits and Twylight alike:

Oh! Welcome all you halflings past the borders of your Shire!
To a place of green and brown and things, but never that of fire!
They say it's dark, and dangerous, and all the trees're to fear!
But my grand old home in the forest of Old, oh I say it's not so queer...!

With that, he collapsed into a pile on the Inn floor. Twylight gasped and fell down to her knees next to him. She shook him and shook him, but he didn't answer. Despite the fact that she couldn't speak, she still tried to call out to the other hobbits, but no sound came out. They seemed not to want to have anything to do with the eccentric stranger.

Just as Twylight was going to run for help, he jumped up and said, ""So! tell me of yourself fair lady!" She would have screamed if she had her voice.

The man seemed startled to see her pale white face and shaking hands.

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' ordered some roast chicken and cold ham as well as a third ale before answering Peony's question. Despite having three mugs of ale already, not small, he did not seem even the least tipsy. Ale apparently did not effect him like it did other men.

"I only just arrived in the Shire tonight, and I leave again in the morning. I will probably be passing through again in three days or so and I very well may stop in again. The Green Dragon is a fine inn, and I regret that I am not able to visit it more often."

'Jean' cast an annoyed, even disgusted, glance at the man sitting at the table with the Elf-woman, the one who had so loudly introduced himself as Idadarion. He seemed to be getting very drunk which seemed to vex 'Jean' a great deal.

[Nurumaiel]

Toby's answer was drowned out by the loud singing from another part of the room.

Oh! Welcome all you halflings past the borders of your Shire!
To a place of green and brown and things, but never that of fire!
They say it's dark, and dangerous, and all the trees're to fear!
But my grand old home in the forest of Old, oh I say it's not so queer...!

Marcho scowled furiously and Blanco raised an eyebrow, muttering to Posco, "Is he talking about the Old Forest?" The singer had collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor. A little cry escaped Bingo's lips and he sprang to his feet. Marcho caught his arm. "Don't go over there, lad," he growled. "It might be dangerous."

Bingo gently pulled free of Marcho's grasp and gazed sorrowfully at his friend and then at the rest of the people in the Common Room. All seemed disgusted and made no move to help. Bingo felt an urge to weep at the faces of some, but he composed himself and turned back to Marcho. "He might need help, Marcho." Oblivious of what others might think of him, he left his table by the fireplace. The singer had jumped up and began talking again. The fair young woman of the Big Folk looked terrified; Bingo hurried forward, his eyes full of compassion. He gently but firmly took the singer by the arm and sat him down. He turned to the woman of the Big Folk and said, "He's very drunk. He's in no condition to be walking about. You needn't worry about it; I'll take care of him."

Marcho heard these words and snarled viciously. What a fool Bingo was, offering to help that drunkard!

Bingo had put a hand on the singer's forehead and frowned gently. "He's going to make himself sick if he doesn't stop and sleep off his drunkeness," he said. Once again he addressed the woman of the Big Folk. "Tell me, miss, does he have a room?"

[Arry]

Jack stood up on his chair once again as the man across the room began to sing. It was the fellow he’d spied earlier in the green cloak and yellow boots. Jack’s eyes went wide as the song slurred off at the end and the man crumpled to the floor. ‘He’s sick, Sir!’ he said in a breathless rush as he jumped from his chair to the floor. Grabbing Alwin’s sleeve, he urged the old fellow to bring his pouch of healing herbs to help the stricken singer.

Alwin turned round in his chair, and was about to rise, when Ruby laid a hand on his forearm and bade him sit again. ‘Not sick, little Jack,’ she snorted, hands on hips. ‘The man’s had one too many ales if you ask me.’ Hmmmph! she muttered under her breath. ‘Maybe the fall will knock some sense into him.’ She started toward the place where the man lay. Iardarion – that’s what he had called himself.

‘Here!’ called the old man, motioning her back for a moment. Jack had brought him his little packet of herbs, and Alwin had fished out a few dried strands of willow-bark from one of the pockets. He crushed them over a half mug of steaming tea, and thrust the infusion into her hands. ‘This will help with the achey head he’s bound to have.’

[Sirithheruwen]

It seemed Twylight had been wrong about all of the hobbits of the room being disgusted. A hobbit that looked young even by hobbits' standards bustled up. "He's very drunk. He's in no condition to be walking about. You needn't worry about it; I'll take care of him."

Without stopping to think about the stranger's reaction to her parchment-writing, she wrote:

I don't know...I feel responsible for him.

She tried and failed to attract the hobbit's attention. He just continued to examine the man with concern. "Tell me, miss, does he have a room?" He looked at her anxiously. Taking up the parchment again, she scribbled quickly:

No, not that I know of.

Seeming to stop and think for the time being, she quickly crossed that out.

Yes. Yes, I do believe he does.

While the hobbit was reading her note, she motioned to the serving maid who had helped her before. "Are you ready to go to your room, miss?" she asked, looking down her nose at the man,which wasn't too hard now that the hobbit lad had just convinced the protesting man to lie down. Twylight nodded firmly, and wrote:

Take this man to my room please. I'll be along to see him later.

Helping the man up, the two hobbits hustled their whining patient out of the common room. Twylight sighed heavily and plopped herself down at her table. She was sitting alone again.

[Nurumaiel]

In the room, Bingo and the young hobbit maid lay the man out on the bed, and Bingo studied the drunkard with deep concern. "I confess," he said at last, "that I do not know how to keep him here if he tries to leave. He matches me for strength... no, he excels in me in strength. He is one of the Big Folk and besides that I am not very strong." He leaned against the headstand of the bed, staring down at the man and thinking deeply. Time went on. The hobbit maid stood uncertainly by, wondering if she should go or if he wanted her help. At last he nodded, slowly, and then a little smile came to his face. "I think it might work." He turned to the hobbit maid. "Excuse me, please, but would you tell me your name?"

"My name is Ruby Brown," said she.

He gave that queer little bow he was so apt to give. "And mine is Bingo Cotton, at your service. I am most pleased to meet you." He paused, took a breath, and was about to continue on the original subject when he saw the cup of tea in her hand. "What is that?" he asked.

"One of our patrons, Alwin, gave it for this man," she said. "He said it will help the aching head he will most certainly have."

"That's good," said Bingo, "but there is something else we need. I have to leave for a little while now. You can leave too, but please lock the door behind you, and might I have the key?" He led her to the door and had her lock it before acquiring the key. "Thank you very much," he said. "I must speak to Master Alwin."

When they reached the Common Room Ruby pointed out Alwin to Bingo and he approached him. He bowed when he was sure he had his attention, saying, "Master Alwin, my name is Bingo Cotton. You gave Miss Brown some herbs to help that man's headache. Seeing that you have herbs and I do not, I wondered if you would be so kind as to inform me if you have any herbs that would quiet the man down a bit? At the moment he seems quite disposed to jump up and sing and talk loudly and I will have difficulties watching after him, seeing as he is one of the Big Folk and I am but a weak little hobbit."

[Kitanna]

Peony followed Jean's stare to the man, Idadarion. The man was most likely drunk, judging by his behavior. "I would just ignore him." She said, looking away.

She began fiddling with a napkin near her. "So, what brings you to the Shire, Jean? Family? Just because?" She looked up and turned to see if Deva was still hanging around the inn. Nope, nowhere to be seen.

[Kransha]

Once again, life in the Green Dragon had become strange, as it always one. One big fellow after another stumbling through the Common Room after too many ale quaffs. Toby shared a conservative laugh with himself, reminiscing rather dumbly about his own unfortunate incident with a tankard of ale at the party the other day, in which he required the stout Snaveling to quell his drinking streak. He hadn’t exactly broken into song, but he’d come close. He could’ve sworn he saw an oliphaunt lurking in the flickering shadows played off by the Dragon’s hearth-fire, nestled in the cracks of the neatly cropped floorboards and somehow flitting up into a hover above the decked tables. But, that had been an error of his, one he would not repeat anytime soon, or so he hoped.

Feeling madly giddy at his new ‘find’ aged Tobias Hornblower sprung to his feet like an excited child and hopped across the grounds of the inn, trailing after Bingo Cotton, but halted abruptly when Bingo, accompanied with pomp and ceremony by Miss Ruby as the two Halfling dragged a comatose, but still blathering oaf with a jolly gait from the common room and ascended to the rooms of the inn. Smiling half-heartedly, Toby swiftly spun upon his leathery sole of a heel and pranced back over to Posco, Marcho, and Blanco, alighting with supreme agility upon a wobbling stool, instead of the sturdier chair that the hobbit companions had provided for him.

“So…do folks like that come here often?” queried Blanco, still noticeably eager as he posed the question, despite mild hesitation. Toby again chuckled in his full throat, emitting a noise that sounded somewhat like a bullfrog, and replied, nodding his head in an overly energetic fashion. “Oh, you’d be surprised, Master Blanco. One could say you’re one o’ the lucky few who came here after the ‘incident’ last week. There were many more queer sorts than there are this day. I’d ‘ave sworn that we had a couple of trolls at the tables in the back, but that’s just speculation on my part. We had a good many of the fair-haired big folk, and the ones with pointy ears, and the dark sort from the south, the light sort from the north, and the sort that’s sorta in between from the south that’s not quite as south as the other south I mentioned and-”

Toby cut himself off. He was babbling like an idiot, but he couldn’t find it in his stony heart to care. It was a very good feeling, as a matter of fact. The last time he’d done this had been with Snaveling and Roa. He distinctly remembered his zealous, reasonless tirade about the Battle of Greenfields, a rant with no start or end; yes, that had been quite a memorable experience. Toby laughed, sounding noticeably less like a bullfrog, and leaned back, nearly keeling over as his brimming chest swelled.

“Dear me, I think I’ve gone and started being a fool again. But, that’s not important now. Tell me, good Brandybucks of the Shire, what business brought you to the finest establishment for the procuring of fine ales that Eriador has to offer, hmm?”

[Alaksoron]

'Jean's grimace directed at the man in the corner abruptly became a grateful smile when the server arrived with his food. He pressed five thick gold coins into the hobbits hand and set to his meal with a will. With his first mouthful he leaned back in his eat, closed his eyes, and gave a satisfied sigh. "I have not eaten in two days. Tell Mistress Aman she has out-done herself again."

Turning to Peony, he said "I have been........recalled...........after a very long retirement.........to.......re-affirm........my allegiance....to a Lord.......into whose service I was born." He took a long swallow of his ale and sighed again. "The Green Dragon"

[Kitanna]

Peony raised an eyebrow at Jean, unsure of what to make of what he just said. "Um..." She forced an smile onto her face. "Say that one more time. I am a little slow and what you just said made no sense to me what so ever."

She continued to play with the napkin, tying it in knots and then untying it only to tie it again. Peony waited for Jean to give his answer. She wondered if Deva had gone out for another walk or if he was asleep in the room.

[Nurumaiel]

Blanco grimaced horribly, twisting his mouth, scrunching his nose, and squinting his eyes, which made Posco grinned in an embarrassed way. "Relatives," Blanco groaned. "What business do folk from Buckland have moving to Bywater, anyway? Of course it was good to get her away. I'd rather have to go visit her once in awhile than have her at my doorstep every day."

Toby smiled in an amused, puzzled way. "Who is this 'her?'"

"My aunt Malva. She's terrible and hideous. The way she finds fault in every thing a poor hobbit does. I can't begin to express my annoyance when she sniffs and turns up her nose when we go out to our local inn. 'How hideous to go to a filthy inn and drink filthy ale!' she cries. Poor Posco here can't get on her good side. He's always getting dirty; perhaps you've noticed. She loathes it. 'Posco dear...' by the way, it is awful the way she says 'dear.' 'Posco dear,' she says, 'you digust me with your filthy habits of wallowing in the dirt like your uncle's pigs!' Isn't that awful? Comparing dear Posco to a pig! We recently got a letter from her saying that she desired her 'dear and beloved nephews' to come visit her here in Bywater. We've been in misery for three whole days and we decided to run away for a night or two. Oh, and you must wonder why Marcho and Bingo are here. Marcho is because our mother, despite our very experienced age, didn't want us going all the way from Buckland to Bywater alone, so she had Marcho who is very old and wise take care of us. As for Bingo my aunt took a fancy to him because he's alway so sweet and polite. She enjoys making life miserable for him and seeing that he isn't in truth very miserable. At least she doesn't get upset when he bears all her unjust words patiently like she does with us. If I just smile at her she flies into a terrible rage." He rolled his eyes and buried his face in his mug, glowering.

Marcho grumbled almost inaudibly, "At least a cup of ale stops him from talking." Posco thought about their other aunts who were indescribably sweet and gentle. How did that one aunt get to be so awful? Let Blanco take care of the talking about it, though. Marcho was right; he did talk a lot, but ale did stop him.

He soon returned to his talking however, before Toby could put in a word of comment about the dreadful aunt. "Well, Mister Toby, what do you think of that?" he said. "She's awful!" He emphasized his point by slamming his mug on the table. "Do you have any aunts like that?"

[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

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

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.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

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.

[piosenniel]

IT IS LATE AFTERNOON IN THE SHIRE.

THE WEATHER IS FAIR - BUT THE RAINSTORM MAY BE GATHERING ONCE AGAIN ON THE HORIZON.

[piosenniel]

~*~ :) Notice of New Game Opening :) ~*~

Durelin invites you to look at the discussion thread for Bloodstained Elanor.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=10735) to view it.

The Discussion Thread will open to take on players on June 5th.

Until then, read the proposal carefully, design a well-crafted character for the game, and write a First Post for your character to accompany the character bio.

It should be a fun game to play in.

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[Firefoot]

Lily shiverred. She was starting to feel chilled from standing in one place, and she wanted to start moving again to warm up. She did not yet want to go back to the Inn; she was enjoying the fresh air and was not eager to go back inside, cozy as the Green Dragon might be.

"I suppose you will want to be moving on towards the Inn, Master Dîm," said Lily. "Perhaps we shall talk later." Dîm nodded and tipped his blue hat. "Good day to you, ladies," he said. He flicked the reins and his poor mule pulled the cart down the road.

As if by some unspoken agreement all three hobbits began walking again. "Interesting character, that Dîm," said Lily. "But then he's a Dwarf, and all Dwarves are a bit queer. There are some strange people that come to Inns, and no mistake." As she walked her limbs were warming, and she began to enjoy the brisk temperature. The sun, though still high in the sky, was moving on towards the clouds in the west, reminding Lily of the brooding storm. Lily grinned suddenly, inspired. However awake she might feel, she was still tired, and she was starting to think in somewhat nonsensical ways.

"Who's the strangest person you ever met?" she asked. "He or she could be from an Inn, a distant relative, anything."

[nynnd1]

Bredan was pacing up and down his room, it had not been as long as his mind was portraying since he spoke to the hobbit maid, asking her to tell Lady Aman to come and see him, but it felt so long. Bredan started to feel trapped, he glanced to wards the window. He looked out at the beautiful landscape, it had changed colour since he last glanced upon the majestic land of the Shire. Bredan than noticed the mass of dark cloud forming in the sky. His heart started to feel heavier.

He started to think that maybe she would not forgive him, and surly, if someone was in the bad books of Lady Aman, whom everyone in the land respected and loved, than everyone would follow suit. Just as Bredan had been chased from Gondor, he would be chased from the Shire.

Bredan was thinking of packing when he realised that he had no stuff to pack, all he owned was about his person, his clothes and deeply treasured items. He looked at his clothes and his heart was weighed down yet more, his roomer got darker, and it seemed to him smaller as well.

He looked at the ring Iolet had given him when they parted, and Bredan fled. Many times on his journey it had comforted him but it’s power seemed to had left it now as it made him feel worse than he already felt. Bredan than picked up the sword, it was the only thing that he had from his parents, he did not know who his father was and his mother died at child birth, nobody else seemed to know either, or they did not want to know, but he had always felt that people were weary of him, there was so many questions that Bredan wanted to be answered, and the only lead was a sword that had been given to him at birth, and Bredan still remembered clearly all that was said of the sword, ‘this sword has been handed down to you through lineage’, that was all Bredan had known.

He looked back upon his forming years and remembered joining the army of Gondor as soon as he could for two reasons, so he would have shelter and food, and he wanted to be like the heroes in the stories he used to eaves drop on when other children’s fathers used to tell them. But he had lived through the time of his favourite tale, the destroying of the ring, he had been eight at the time and his favourite was Sam the brave. But once again Bredan looked out of the window and saw the dark clouds, his heart dropped.

He lay on the bed and tried to relax, until he drifted into the world of sleep, maybe he would find comfort there.

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' looked up suddenly. He had been looking at the Elf-woman again. "Oh. I'm sorry. What I say rarely makes sense at all, and sometimes I do not understand myself. You asked why I was in the Shire? Well, I suppose it is sort of family:

I am going to visit my father. He is not really my father, but he raised me. I was orphaned at a young age. Then I am meeting my wife up north."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Balancing the tray on her hip, Aman knocked on Bredan's door, then shifted into a more comfortable position again, holding the tray with both hands. The evening meal she held on the tray smelled delicious - the Inn's shire-famous meat and vegetable stew, with a hunk of crusty bread beside it, made earlier by Buttercup. Aman had only just managed to scrounge a decent sized piece of bread before the two hobbit servers lavished the whole lot on the little boy, Jack, who Ruby especially seemed to have taken a shine to. Aman breathed in the fine, homely scent of the stew - she could probably snatch some quickly downstairs in a quick five minutes. She hoped so anyway - otherwise she would have to wait until far later that night.

Knocking once more on the door, as it seemed Bredan hadn't heard (and the room was terribly quiet), Aman mused on what the man wanted to speak to her about. She was slightly bemused and a little embarassed at the way he had first proposed his affections and she had then reacted in a horribly sissy way, by getting flustered and beating a hasty departure. What was she, some fine lady of society in High Minas Tirith?! She wondered anxiously whether Bredan was still angry - he had seemed fairly murderous when Snaveling had come to speak to her, and Aman had thought he would chop off the man's hand when he touched her wrist.

Still, Snaveling was gone now, so there would be no aggravation from that direction, Aman thought in a business-like fashion. Turning, the tray once more precariously balanced, the Innkeeper tapped lightly on the door once more, her head close to the wood and called quietly, "Mister Bredan?"

[littlemanpoet]

As the sun continued down the western sky, four horses and three ponies, with riders mounted, came into Bywater from the east.

"Ah," sighed Eodwine, "it is good to be back here again. It has been too long."

The horses and ponies walked to the stables of The Green Dragon, and their riders dismounted.

"After a good ale here," said Falco, "I must go and tease ol' Halfred!"

Falowik Stonewort smiled. The first time he had come here, in the company of Falco, there had been no reason to smile. Now there was none to frown! He reached his hand to Uien, fair Elven woman, who had dismounted from her horse, and hand in hand they followed Falco toward the Inn.

Gorby Brandybuck and Anson, his best friend, protested at being left behind by Falco, and ran to catch up. Eodwine waited beside Flíthaf as Finëwen, the young woman who had been raised in Rivendell, took her time with her horse. They hardly knew each other, but she had agreed to join him in friendship when he returned to Rohan. She looked up at him, her face unreadable, and nodded once, and walked by his side toward the Inn.

It turned out that Falco had the door blocked until all seven of them stood together just outside.

"We must go in all at once, together! We must make a scene! We bring news, do we not? Follow me!"

"Do you really think that they will remember where we went?" Gorby asked. "The Hills of Evendim are beyond the Shire, and they will not care. You will see."

Falco Boffin entered the Great Room of The Green Dragon, his chest puffed out, taking big strides, followed by the others. Heads turned.

[Arry]

‘Oh, I’ll fetch your pouch for you, sir!’

Jack bounced from his chair and was back in less than a wink, holding out the rolled up pouch for herbs to Alwin. The old fellow untied the pouch and unrolled it, his fingers making for one of the pockets on the left near the bottom. ‘Ah, here it is,’ he said with satisfaction as his thin, tapering fingers extracted the dried flower, stem, leaves, and root from its hidey-hole. He motioned for Jack and asked that he fetch a pot of chamomile tea from the kitchen.

‘This is Valerian (http://www.naturalhorse.com/archive/volume3/Issue7/graphics/valerian%20root.jpg) , Master Cotton. We’ll add just a small pinch of it to the chamomile, needs a bit of honey, too. To make it more drinkable. The combination should relax the tipsy fellow and let him have a restful sleep.’

He looked up from the dried piece of vegetation to see the Hobbit lad smiling brightly at him, his blue eyes filled with a deep merry gentleness. Alwin could not help but smile back. For one brief moment the image of the young lad seemed to shimmer; his pale-skinned face caught the light from the fire making it seem fairer still; his hair glistened all spun gold as it danced along the shoulders of his tunic. Blinking his eyes to clear the image, he focused on the lad’s features. Shiny light brown hair, long it was; clear blue eyes; fine featured, fair skinned, his cheeks just touched with a certain rosiness; young seeming, artless.

The fire hissed and popped, drawing the old man further back to a surer vision of figure before him. A pleasant looking Hobbit lad . . . Still, he thought to himself, seeing the firelight play on the planes of Bingo’s face, he seems fey; as if the light glimmered from within . . .

Jack was back, then, holding a small teapot out to Bingo, along with a cup. ‘She’s laced it with honey already,’ he confided, smiling at the Hobbit lad who was just his height. Bingo held the warm pot in his hands as Jack took off the lid for Alwin. The old man crushed a small pinch of the dried plant between his thumb and fingers and dropped it into the fragrant yellow liquid. ‘Slosh it about a bit,’ he told the Hobbit, putting the lid back on securely. ‘That’s what Master Alwin does to get it all mixed up right.’ Jack looked up at his companion for confirmation, and beamed as Alwin nodded his head in agreement.

Further conversation stopped as the Inn door burst open. A shaft of westering sun shone in, backlighting the seven figures that entered. They were difficult to see, their faces in shadow. Heads turned to gaze at the puffed up one who led them in with a swagger.

'Falco Boffin! As I live and breathe!' Alwin heard heard some old gaffer at a nearby table mutter. 'Now what trouble is he dragging in to Bywater?' He took a long pull on his half-pint, his rheumy old eyes fixed on the entering party.

'Whatever it is,' cackled a wizened Hobbit mistress sitting next to him, 'he'll be sure to have a big, big story about it. And one with him at the center of it, I have no doubt . . .'

[Kitanna]

Peony nodded, "For your father eh? I hope that everything is all right with him." She would probably be leaving in a few days to go back home to her own father. "And your wife? Why is it she does not travel with you?"

As soon as Peony asked she regretted it. It was really none of her business, but it was too late to take it back now. She blushed a little and put her head down as she waited for Jean to answer.

[littlemanpoet]

"You didn't even miss me, did you, Ferdi, you old codger!" Falco went over to Ferdi and gave him a resounding slap on the back. Ferdi steadied himself with both elbows on the table and coughed hard. Falco turned his gaze to Ferdi's red cheeked wife. "Bedelia, what kind of thing is that to say about your long lost third nephew, twice removed?"

Bedelia puffed to as tall as her three feet and inches could make her. "I'll twice remove you, if you start bragging to the lasses about whatever it is you're fixing on bragging about!"

Falco shook his head, suddenly serious. "I am a changed Hobbit. It is true that I have seen things that one only hears in tales, but so have my friends here, and if not for each of them, I would never have returned." Falco gestured to the others, who had gathered at the next table.

"The same could be said of you, Falco," said the shorter of the two golden haired men, smiling. The Elf woman sitting next to him smiled and held his hand.

"That may be, Falowik, and you're the one who will have to say it, because I shan't. Now, where's that serving hobbit lass when you need her?" Falco turned back to Ferdi and Bedelia. "It's good to see the both of you as alive and curmudgeonly as ever! Good day to you both!" Falco sat down with his friends.

Ferdi and Bedelia exchanged surprised glances, and Falco just barely overheard him say to her, "Something's crammed some humble pie into his addled head." And her to him, "Maybe he'll finally make the good shirriff he shoulda been all this while."

Falco grinned and winked to Falowik.