The Green Dragon Inn - Part 6

[Jack]

Éofalas watched Enif as she walked away. Rest wasn't such a bad idea he desided. Later he would think about going back to Rohan now he didn't want to.

Éofalas smiled thinking about Enif's description of the Shire... it was quiet, maybe even to quiet. Beauty he hadn't knowtest yet... maybe a walk would show him that. After he had rested. Slowly standing he walked towards the stairs.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

The sound of Moon's hooves coming into contact with grass was relaxing. The elf had not been to the Shire in a long time, but she loved it here. Everyone was happy, whether they had been drinking or not. The high sun was shining down onto the elf, causing her to become hot under her cloak’s hood. Oh well, she thought. I’ve come this far without anyone knowing my identity. It couldn’t have lasted much longer. She pull back her hood. As she had expected, none in the Shire knew her, but when she got to the Inn, there would be a reunion between old friends.

When she neared the Green Dragon, the elf could hear some commotion coming from inside. She took this opportunity to slip in unnoticed. Dismounting from Moon, she let the horse roam freely, for the elf had no need for saddle or bridle. As she entered the Inn, the she-elf remembered some happy times that she’d had there. Memories kept her alive, as everyday she re-lived one of her adventures in a daydream. She remembered about when she had led a quest during the second age. A group of elves and humans, even dwarves, had travelled to the Blue Mountains to slay a great and powerful dragon there. So many memories, so little time to share them with other people at the Inn. But, then again, she intended this stay to be longer than her previous ones.

The elf looked around for someone who she might converse with. To her left were some hobbits, all very merry with many mugs of ale on their table. In front of her were some people who looked rather agitated, perhaps from the commotion she had heard, so she decided against joining them. As she began to walk toward the kitchens, to see if anyone she knew was there, she saw from the corner of her eye a girl with her hand on the windowsill she sat by. She walked to the free seat an was about to ask if she could join the girl, when she noticed the girl was not looking at her, as if she had not noticed the elf’s arrival. Elves move soundlessly at all times, and when she saw the girl’s staff she put two and two together. This was a blind girl that the elf stood before.

Being careful not to startle, the elf introduced herself.

"Greetings, young traveller. It would greatly honour me if you gave me leave to sit with you. I am an elf named Elentari."

"You may join me if you wish."

Elentari sat in the chair opposite the girl, placing her own staff next to the girl’s.

"May I ask your name?"

"You may. I am named Finduilas."

Elentari smiled as she realised that was what Finduilas ha been tracing in the dust.

"If I am not mistaken," said Elentari, "that is a Gondorian name."

"That is true," replied Finduilas, smiling at the sound of the elf’s voice. "Where is it that you come from?"

"I am from the Wood of Green Leaves," the elf answered. "You must have travelled a long way. How is it you came to be here?"

[ October 13, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[Larien Lindorenan]

Nedieth woke up to see the sun shining through the window. She stretched her arms and stood up. She felt very much better now that she had slept, she even felt a bit of happiness.

She found her self smiling as she opened her bag and drew out a simple maroon dress. She put her hair in a hair net and headed for the Common Room.

[ October 13, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Elora]

The midday rushed had slowly abated into the afternoon and Uien was permitted to quit her post at the room reservations book. There was work to be done in the stables and Derufin was preoccupied with some of the newer arrivals. Uien had watched all with interest, sparked in particular by the Dwarven woman and her axe. It had roused memories of her own time in Dwarven halls along with surprise at the presence of the woman. The Seven Fathers did not often send their women out into the wider world.

The afternoon had brought several new arrivals, but most seemed after refreshment which was capably under Aman, Ruby and Buttercup's purview. Uien slipped out the door, past the girl who spoke with a newly arrived Elf, and took in the afternoon. More rain, mayhaps, Uien thought to herself as she crossed to the day pasture. She'd need to get the horses in out of that before it struck, else there would be a stable full of unwell horses and her hide would be fit to be flayed for that oversight.

Still, Uien judged by her inspection of the sky that there were some hours of daylight left and the rain was not about to press upon them yet. There was time. She checked the water and grain troughs to be sure there was ample of both, scratched a curious horse under his chin and then made her way to the stables.

A quick review of that revealed two discoveries. The horse that had gone missing was back. Uien smiled, for Derufin would be pleased. Her second discovery was that Lira's horse was gone. Uien sighed a little. A second one lost before you've even set out. As the hours passed, Uien became more and more certain that she was only giving Falowik the reasons to turn away from her. He'd left her with an important task, and she was failing him.

Uien ran her hands over the herbs she had bundled and left tied to a rafter and nimbly climbled the ladder to the loft. She retrieved some wood and her belt knife, climbed back down, found a stool towards the back that Derufin often sat in to carve his own fine work, and settled into that. After holding her raw block for a moment in her fingers, Uien's thoughts cleared a little and she smiled sadly as she recognised what lay within the wood.

Then, she set her blade to its work, head bent over it in the afternoon rays of sunlight that reached through the open stable doors.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The Innkeeper smiled sadly after Lira as she skipped out of the Green Dragon door for the last time and into the now clear, fine day. For a moment, the elf was framed in the doorway, the green outfit and the blonde in her hair entwining with the fine strands of blonde in her hair. She had been a great help with everything in the Inn, and Aman hadn't charged her even half of what she should have done - it wouldn't have been right to charge a friend for such a stay. Aman hoped Pio didn't guess she had undercharged the other elf, but something Aman noticed in her eyes told the Rohirrim Innkeeper that she knew full well, and didn't disapprove. Then, with a jaunty wave, Lira was gone - she would go to the stables, then down the road and off.

"Excuse me I was just wondering, are there any free rooms? You see I had quite a long journey..."

Aman sighed, shaking herself away from the image of her friend which she could see in her mind's eye skipping down the lane, and turned to the other elf who had approached herself and Pio rather nervously as she was watching Lira, suddenly back to the moment. She smiled at the elf, Enif she thought her name was from earlier, who was evidently ill at ease with distracting herself and Pio from her talk, hoping to put her at ease, and her friend smiled also. Pio nodded understandingly and Aman stood.

"Of course, I quite understand, miss...?"

"Enif. My name is Enif." The elf smiled again, still seeming a little uncomfortable but a little more relaxed now. Aman nodded and went towards the bar, where Vanwe was still patiently taking down names and rooms of those who needed them. Aman relieved her and the elf gratefully scooted off with a smile, out to the stable. She still seemed a little distracted, deep in her eyes, and Aman knew the dwarf's coming would no doubt have given her something to think about - she would be carving this afternoon, at least for a while, the Innkeeper would wager. She would bring out a cup of tea to her later on; she and Vanwe hadn't talked properly in quite a while it now seemed, and the Innkeeper wouldn't wish for the elf to set off with Falowik on what could be a very dangerous trip with states left in this drifted-apart manner.

Turning the log book towards Enif, Aman handed her the pen and showed her where to sign. As the elf did so, the Innkeeper let her eyes wander around her common room once more, taking in new faces she had missed. Her eyes caught one, near the door, a girl, not quite in adulthood yet it seemed, talking to another, a woman whose hood was pulled back from her head, from which fell a mass of golden hair. There was something about the girl's eyes which Aman couldn't quite see with her turned in that direction...

The girl turned and in an instant Aman recognised what was different about the girl's slightly misted, still eyes - she was evidently blind. The Innkeeper was reminded of her mother's saying of 'you don't know how lucky you are' - it was true. This girl looked to be about eighteen, although her face seemed a litte older than perhaps it was meant to be - some time younger than Aman. And yet she would never see the Shire... Aman made a note to talk to her when she Enif had her rooms sorted and make sure she was alright with everything. But there was something about her companion which made Aman continue to look...the woman suddenly laughed, tossing her hair slightly and as she did so, her face turned slightly to the side. Aman's eyebrows shot up - surely it couldn't be?

Well, if it was, this would be an interesting reunion indeed!

[Imladris]

I listened to the elf’s voice in wordless wonder: never before had I heard anything so sweet, so pure, so lovely in all my living days; even if she had not introduced herself to be an elf, I would have known it was a member of the Fair Folk who now spoke kindly to me. “Elentari,” I said, savoring the word as I spoke it slowly, then I laughed as I realized that she had asked me what had brought me here (she was from the Wood of Green Leaves, but I was not familiar with the name). “How I came to the Shire, and to this Inn, in particular --” I stumbled slightly over these words -- “is a long story. My family are peasants in Gondor, but we have distant relatives in Bree.” I stopped, for I did not like these aforesaid relatives. Quickly, determined not to dwell upon such unpleasantness, I said, “Some time ago, I traveled here because they had suffered misfortune: the mother had died in child birth, and the other children needed a woman’s hand. So I set out on horseback, to Bree, for I was not blind then.” I frowned, for I was upset. I couldn’t really see clearly when I had departed from Gondor: I could stills see blurries of colours, and I could see large objects. Yet, even then, I had known that my sight would be taken away from me, but instead I had not thought of it, had always been seeking for things of beauty with what little sight remained to me. I had stayed on the roads, and they were considerably safer and I had reached the home in Bree, but then -- “Stop it,” I snapped out loud. I felt the elf stir, and said hastily, “Stay! Forgive me…I was not speaking to you but to myself.”

I rose quickly and promptly stumbled over a wayward stool and soon I found myself again upon the floor. Pulling my knees under myself, I crouched there on the floor so that the Elentari could not see my flaming face. I fought back the tears that insisted on coming to my eyes: of all things, why did I have to suffer this curse of blindness? I felt a helping hand raise me to my feet and guide me back to the seat: “Thank you, Elentari,” I said, assuming it was the elf. I bit my lips and, turning to where I thought she was seated, I said, “Tell me of yourself: from where you have come? How do you look? What is the colour of you hair? Of your eyes? Everything about yourself, please tell me.”

[Theoric Windcaller]

Business, or life, should I say, went on like always, people hustling in and out of the inn, having their drinks, saying their messages and then heading off.

They were wrong, Theoric thought. "If this place is peaceful than I am an elf," he laughed. Beside him, silently sat an elf. The hobbits that occupied that bar stool left only ten minutes ago.

The elf turned to him, slamming his ale down upon the bar. "What did you say?"

Theoric knew he should have just kept to himself. "Nothing, master elf. Keep to your business and I shall keep to mine."

This probably wasn't the best reply, Theoric thought, but nonetheless, it got the to turn away and continue on, drinking himself to intoxication.

He knew that he came to the Shire to settle down for good, and have nice peaceful life, but he was having second thoughts. He did not know where he belonged, where his home was. He did not mean his literal home as In Laketown, he meant where it was that he most felt comfortable in, and most peaceful there.

This had been his lifelong quest, leaving home to find another home. He even thought of the sailing west, to the Grey Havens, but he knew that once he was there, he could never come back. And that raised the question, What if he were meant to just be a nomad, like a ranger, never to truly find a real home?

His head was hurting, for the meals, though hot and delicious, did not heal his lost heart or his aching limbs.

He looked around; he recognized no one, save the beautiful bartender, patiently tending to those at the bar. Whatever his reason for coming here, he did not care for now, he suddenly felt an urging to leave, to sail to the Grey Havens. He did not know, for he had no one to consult with on the matter. He felt out of place here, more than ever, for he had spent the majority of his life with men, and he once thought to go to Rivendell, but he remembered, there were not many elves in Middle-Earth. They were all sailing west... to Valinor.

He stood up and stumbled towards the door to exit the inn.

[Nerindel]

The appearance of the heated dwarven woman had caused Taurëwen to tense slightly, she had never met a dwarf only seen the injuries caused by their weapons, but seeing Reynions indifference she relaxed, her face flushing slightly under Reynion's affectionate gaze.


She smiled as he told her that he had not even got drunk while she was gone, this was a good thing but something about the way he made light of his achievement troubled her. A healer by trade she knew the only way he would truly overcome his darkness was to talk about it, but in his own time she thought to herself.


Just then an elven woman passed with two elfings in her arms, that reminded her that Reynion, knew nothing of what had became of those who had survived the dark times.Turning back to him she told him of Ceros and Ihwesta's marriage "Thillersk and Rydian are both captains, and Lady Dorienne counsels those ill of heart," she went on.


"What about Arie?" he asked, at this her smile faded slightly and a sigh escaped her, "the weeds that I have gathered are for her, her heart and mind are not as they once were, not since....but we hope that the weed will help, we also believe that the healing properties of the weed might help the others aswell." she smiled hopefully.


"Infact someone should be arriving tomorrow to collect what I have gathered and take it back to the halls of healing in Eryn Lasgalen, but enough of my work!" she laughed.

"Surely you have some tales to tell, of the places you have visited?" she urged gently.

[ October 13, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"Surely you have some tales to tell, of the places you have visited?"

Tales to tell? Oh, he had tales to tell, but...somehow, he got the feeling that Taurewen wouldn't enjoy them. Men could be very cruel, and Taurewen was far too kind. His tales would cast a shadow on their thus far lovely day, and he was enjoying himself too much to do that. But as for the places he had visited...

"I must confess that I don't remember most of the places I've been. I was usually drunk, or recovering from a drunk. Neither state is conducive to memories." That wasn't strictly true, but the places he could remember had been the places that one didn't dare get drunk in, or risk ending up in an alley with one's throat slit. He doubted Taurewen would want to hear about those. Or rather, that he'd been to that sort of place.

"So, Ceros and Ihwesta are wed? That doesn't surprise me; they were half in love before we left..." he trailed off, wanting to avoid talking about anything that would remind either of them about that awful mission. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else to talk about. He wanted to avoid tales of his travels, for fear of some of the memories contained therein, he wanted to avoid discussions of Eryn Lasgalen as it used to be, because he didn't really want to go back, and he wanted to avoid memories, simply because most of his memories were rather...uncomfortable. So what was there to talk about?

[Theoric Windcaller]

"Aye, dark times indeed, the third age," commented a hobbit, taking another gulp of his ale.

Theoric had apparently decided to stay for a bit longer. He told himself that the ale was such an addiction that he couldn't handle it--but he knew the real reason. He didn't want to leave.

"Did you take part in the War?" asked Theoric, interested in the elder hobbit's tales.

"Nay, but I did partake in the great uprallying at the end of the Third age." His voice quieted to a whisper.

"See, not many hobbit-folk like to speak of this, but back many years ago, when the War of the Ring had finally come to an end, a great man, very wizard-like, came upon our peaceful Shire and stirred up trouble.

"He went by the name of Sharky, and he had a small little fella' with him too, nasty creature. Very pale, seemed to glare at you all of the time."

Theoric nodded. "I think I had heard of that before. I believe that men from Laketown used to call it the Scourging of the Shire.
I always thought it was just a tale, to keep us occupied instead of going and stirring up trouble in the village."

The hobbit set down his ale. "It did not much have a name, but it was when the four came back," he replied.

Theoric was now deeply interested in the tale. "The four?"

"Well yes, lad. Haven't you heard of the Company of the Ring?" asked the hobbit.

Theoric nodded his head slightly. "Aye, it was the fellowship that set out for Mordor so many years ago," he replied.

"Aye, well, four members of that company were hobbits, Shire-folk like me. In, two of them, Frodo of Nine Fingers and Samwise Gamgee were of the four, the others I cannot remember."

"So Frodo of Nine Fingers was a Shire-hobbit?" asked Theoric.

"Of course," laughed the hobbit. "In fact, Samwise Gamgee is mayor of the Shire. He used to be Frodo Baggin's gardener, down at Bag End in Hobbiton."

Theoric was silent. The elder hobbit looked at him with a warming and encouraging smile. "You seem interested in what I have to say. I tell you, if you want details about what has happened in the Shire's uprising and the War of the Ring, I am sure Samwise Gamgee, mayor of the Shire could very much help you."

"Do you know where he lives now?" asked Theoric.

The elder hobbit turned away from the dwarf to finish his ale. "Aye, he lives in Bag End, on Bagshot Row in Hobbiton, which is a little ways from here.

"Aye, he started living in Bag End ever since Frodo disappeared once again, and he never returned since. Yes, a strange lot, those Bagginses were, very spontaneous and extremely unexpecting."

The hobbit turned to the dwarf, who was already grabbing his axe from the weapons depot and walking out of the inn.

The hobbit laughed to himself. As Aman approached he smiled at her. "It is strange, the kind of people the Shire has in its inns and taverns in these days."

Aman just smiled and began to tend to another when the hobbit spoke again.

"Queer days these are, but that was the same thing I said back during the War of the Ring, and those were less queerer. It makes me wonder how much more queerer the days will be that are to come," smiled the elder hobbit.

"I'd rather not wonder," squeaked a hobbit sitting beside the elder hobbit. "I'd rather not."

[ October 14, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]

[piosenniel]

Please note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Green Dragon Inn.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Amanaduial the archer]

"It is strange, the kind of people the Shire has in its inns and taverns in these days."

Aman smiled and nodded with feeling at the dwarf's words - he'd hit the nail right on the head. She thought she recognised him, and it hit her a moment later as she departed from the table - that dwarf was the trouble maker who had stopped in her...well, it must be over a month ago now. Picked several fights so he did...she cast a glance in his direction, but Thorin seemed absorbed in his conversation with the hobbits, and he had thankfully left his axe at the door - excellent. He caught her eyeas she looked at him and smiled from beneath his voluminious beard, and Aman replied to this with a smile of her own. Turned over a new leaf then, she hoped.

There was a clatter from the other side of the room, causing Aman to look around quickly from the bar where she desposited the dirty glasses she had just picked up. Her eyes found the source in an instant, and she saw the Gondorian girl on her knees on the floor, slightly curled up as if in a protective position, evidentally having fallen over.

The noise, amidst so many others in the noisy common room, didn't attract much attention, but Aman began to move across it quickly towards the table. Elentari, if it was indeed Elentari, and the Innkeeper was pretty sure it was, got there before her though, gently helping the girl up. The blind girl said something in muttered thanks, then spoke again to Elentari, asking her to describe everything about her.

"Well, Elentari is about...ooh, 5 feet 9 inches, slim in build, clear green eyes, beautiful silky blonde hair-"

As Aman spoke, arms folded, Elentari turned around, surprised, her mouth open as if to protest, and the girl's eyes worked up to the approximate area of Aman's face.

"Aman!"

"-and a habit of making friends over a summer of travel and then not being seen for five years." Aman ended, one eyebrow raised, then smiled. "Hello Elentari."

The elf laughed and, standing, embraced Aman joyfully, and Aman returned it, patting her friend on the back and for a few moments they were simply caught up with their reunion, speaking quickly and merrily to each other, before Aman remembered the blind girl and realised she must be confused. Remembering her manners, she stopped and turned to the girl, not knowing how bad her sight was and so not knowing whether she could make out silhouettes and light and nodded her head to her.

"Good day, miss." Her voice was warm and kind, but not at all patronising. "I do apologise for not introducing myself - my name is Aman, I'm the Innkeeper here."

"The Innkeeper?" The girl smiled tenatively, nodding her head slightly to Aman, her unseeing eyes remaining in the direction Aman's voice came from. "My...my name is Finduilas. Please...sit down."

Aman did so, sitting near to the girl so her face was not far from the girl's own. Finduilas took a moment, then raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You are not one of the little folk at all."

Behind them, Elentari laughed. "No indeed. She is one of the Rohirrim - the horse people!"

Aman smiled at her friend, and Finduilas's expression remained puzzled. "From Rohan then? But why are you here?" She paused, then sighed wistfully. "Blonde hair then, maybe? And green eyes...?" She stopped, her face sad. Aman understood, or understood as much as one who couldn't truly know could. Gently and carefully, she took the girl's hand in her own and guided it up to her face. Finduilas seemed surprised, then ran her hand slowly over the Innkeeper's slim, high boned face.

"Brown hair actually, but streaked with blonde. And yes, green eyes - clear, bright and perceptive, I'm told...."

She talked clearly but softly, filling in the details of her appearance for those few moments that Finduilas couldn't possibly gather, but the girl could find quite alot from those moments. And in this gesture, Aman hoped she had put the girl at ease - that she had made a friend.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

"Tell me, Elentari," said Aman. "How is it you have returned now, after so many years?"

"Patience, Aman. You did not tell my good friend here much about me. As you know, Finduilas, I am an elf. I have long blonde hair and green eyes. For most of the time I wear a green dress, the shade of green that colours the leaves of Eryn Lasgalen, if you ever saw them, and a golden necklace with my named engraved upon it in runes. With me I carry a staff and a sword, named Star, and my mount is a white mare named Moon. There is little else to tell.

"I have been on many adventures in my time, but now the evil of these lands has been cleansed; my home forest has been renamed from Mirkwood to Eryn Lasgalen, the Wood of Green Leaves. I once protected the forest, in its darker days. After I returned from one of my adventures, one to Cirith Ungol, I was given the title Spyder Slayer, a title once owned by the brace Maia named Arawil. However, now that the forest is free from its infestation of Spiders, I have no reason to be there. I left the Wood of Green Leaves and travelled south, to the fair wood of Lothlorien. Few elves remain there, so I did not stay long. An interesting idea formed in my head – to fellow the path that Aragorn had taken years before, during the war of the ring. The elves of the Fair Wood gave me a boat so that I could travel down the Anduin. Once I got past the trees, I could see for miles across the plains of the Riddermark, Rohan the land of the Horse-lords. While I was looking out across the plains, a strong wave that I had not anticipated capsized my boat." The elf laughed, remembering how cold the water ha been, for she had travelled in winter, as the Fellowship had.

"I had to continue for a while on foot, but by the time I reached Fangorn I had sent a message to the Wood of Green Leaves attached to the foot of a swift swan, for they are my favourite of the birds. The message asked for my horse Moon to be sent to Edoras. On my way to Edoras I visited Helm’s Deep, not wishing to follow the King’s path exactly, for he went to Edoras first. I did not see any point in travelling to Edoras twice. Helm’s Deep is the largest structure I had seen that has been made by mortal folk. It is impressive, but not as it once was. The scars of battle still show on its walls.

"Edoras is a beautiful place, with the Snowbourn running from it to the Anduin. I headed straight for the stables, for a magnificent horse like Moon would not have been allowed to run free. The Horse-lords would have cared for her, wanting to keep her for themselves, but knowing they couldn’t. They ha cared for her well, and I thanked them with both words and money. I explored Edoras thoroughly, but I was intrigued by the Golden Hall, so I spent most of my stay near to it. My stay was longer here than in Lothlorien, for the mortal race fascinate me. Little time have I spent with them, yet when I have it has been in times of danger, when you find out what they can really do. I have seen mortals pass into the realm of the dead before my very eyes, and it grieved my every time to see it happen. Their lives are so sort, so they could never see the things elves see; never see how the world changes." Elentari stopped. Her words were upsetting Finduilas, and the elf cursed herself for not stopping earlier.

"Forgive me," she said to the mortal. "I should not have talked so long of sight or of death. But, even though your sight has left you, you can learn to she the world in other ways."

"What do you mean?" asked Finduilas.

"Elentari," said Aman, "do you mean through other senses?"

"Yes." Elentari looked out of the window for a moment, then at Finduilas' name traced in the dust. "Using your sense of touch, you managed to trace your name in the dust on this windowsill. You pick up your staff after you have put it down by fining it with your hands. Your sense of touch helped you find this table. Through that sense you can build up a picture in your mind of where things are and what they are like. The same goes for hearing. If I were to move to another place in the room an talk, you would know where I stood."

Finduilas smiled a large smile.

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Oh, my! I’m here already! And thanks goodness for that. Miss Bunce would have my hide if the vanilla beans and lavender water didn’t get to her in time.’

Prim’s thoughts trailed off as she flicked the reins on Poppy’s back, urging the pony, and the cart she pulled, up toward the Inn’s stable. An Elf met her as she neared it. ‘Curious,’ she thought to herself, ‘how many of the Fair Folk seem to pass through the Dragon. ‘Not like The Floating Log,’ she continued. ‘Good Hobbit folk is what we have there. Though to be truthful, it would liven the place up if a few more interesting passersby would frequent Frogmorton.’

Primrose Bolger set the brake on the small cart, and clambered down from the seat. The Elf looked friendly enough as Prim handed her the lead for Poppy. ‘Mind you now – no oats for this one!’ she instructed the Elf. ‘She’ll swell up with the bloat and I’ll be here for days nursing her.’ The Elf nodded and gave Poppy a reassuring scratch between the ears. ‘Just some hay will hold her for now. Oh, and a carrot or apple, if you will,’ she went on with a reassuring smile, seeing Poppy’s doleful eyes turned on her.

Prim took off her light, homespun, brown wool cloak and shook out the dust from the road. Hanging it for a moment on the side of the cart, she smoothed out the wrinkles of her green skirt and straightened her black vest. She rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse, and got to work – hauling several covered baskets to the door of the kitchen. It was the vanilla beans, the lavender water for faerie cakes, and several other delicacies that the Cook at the Floating Log had sent along – two honeyed hams from Budgeford, a basket of yams from Farmer Burrfoot up near Scary, and several bottles of sweet Maywine from Gammer Larkspur’s cellar in Whitfurrows.

Pushing back the brown curls from her sweaty brow and giving a hasty wipe of her hands on the backside of her white apron, Prim gave a knock on the kitchen door, and opening it wide, peeked her head in.

‘Anyone in?’ she asked in a clear, little voice. ‘I’ve some things here from the Log . . .’

[Amanaduial the archer]

As Elentari and Finduilas were discussing this, with knowledge from both sides, Aman quietly cleared away the dirty glasses which had been left on that table since before they came. Taking also the glasses she had put on the bar earlier, the Innkeeper went into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink. She snuk into the kitchen very quietly: hopefully, if Cook was distracted enough with Pio at the bar, where they were talking animatedly about the party.

Getting quickly to the sink, Aman left the dishes and glasses in and started to run the water so they would be able to soak. She would allow about four or five inches, just enough to get some water into or around all of them...just as her target was reached and she turned off the tap, a knock, however small and polite, made her jump and turn around quickly.

"Anyone in? I’ve some things here from the Log..." The clear, quiet voice was followed by a pretty, rosy cheeked face, framed with brown curls, peering around the door. Aman smiled, feeling slightly foolish at having jumped so, and walked across, opening the door wide and taking in the hobbit, who was clutching a covered basket.

"Excellent, come in, please," Aman stepped aside and, with a small smile, the hobbit came in, putting down the basket on the table. The Floating Log was another Inn not too far away, and was almost like a 'sister-Inn' to the Dragon - Aman knew the Innkeeper there, who had recently moved on, had been a good friend of Pio in her time here, in a comradely sort of way. And Pio had always laughed as she told Aman of how surprised the folk there were to see her when she occasionally had to come by - seldom did any of the big folk at all pass through Frogmorten, and elves were completely scarce, obviously.

"I'm Aman, the Innkeeper." Aman smiled and nodded courteously, careful not to look down in any way at the hobbit.

"Primrose Bolger. From the Floating Log - we heard about Miss Pio arriving and about the party and we brought along a few items like - delicacies is you may - not only from the Log, but from a few other well wishers like, you know."

Aman nodded, and her gaze strayed outside the door...and her eyes widened. What Primrose seemed to class as 'a few items' stretched to four to six baskets which now sat outside the door. The Innkeeper smiled slightly incredulously.

"Excellent," she said breathily. "Absolutely excellent. 'Scuse me, I'll just go and get Coo - sorry, Miss Bunce, and - well, you won't have seen Pio's babies yet, will you?"

Primrose beamed, her face lighting up. "Oh, that would be wonderful!"

Aman smiled and hurried outside to the common room. Pio, you have a visitor - and a very welcome one at that. From the Log.

The elf looked up as Aman sent the message, and her face also lit up. She spoke quickly to Cook, and the hobbit also grinned, as the pair stood, a baby apiece, and started towards the kitchen. Aman smiled at them as they began to come across, then ducked back into the kitchen to help Primrose start unpacking the first of the baskets.

[piosenniel]

Cook cast a critical eye at the contents of the baskets that lined the counter. Ah! There were her precious vanilla beans – come through from Bree she knew and before that all the way from Harondor. And nothing was better than the lavender from the Floating Log for flavoring cake batter. The lass who made it for them had a deft hand with the concoction. It made the faerie-cakes seem even more otherworldly and light.

Cook chuckled to herself – ‘and a touch of the scent behind the ears had been know to make certain Hobbit lads swoon with delight at the mouth-watering scent.’ She laughed a little louder, remembering the old saying, and shaking her head at the truth of it. ‘The way to a Hobbit lad’s heart is through his stomach.’

Ruby and Buttercup were enlisted to get the new supplies put carefully away. ‘And mind that Maywine!’ Cook called out after them. ‘We’ll want it for the toasts! Don’t shake up the sediment.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ came the chorused replies, followed by stifled giggling as the two traipsed down the stairs with the bottles carefully in hand.

Cook tsk’d at the impertinence but did not follow up on it. She turned to watch the Hobbit lass who was holding the little girl now, having just given the boy back to Pio in exchange. Pio had crouched down so that the Hobbit . . . now what was her name? . . . Primrose, that was it . . . so that Primrose could get a good look at the both of them.

‘Primrose Bolger,’ she murmured to herself running her list of family trees through her head. ‘Would you be Pearly and Wilcome’s daughter - Girdley Island?’ she asked, raising her voice a little to grab the lass’ attention.

[Imladris]

I held my breath as Aman's hands guided my own over her face; my senses thrilled as I touched her fine skin, while I listened attentively to Elentari. It was wonderful, that they should show much kindness to one such as I. "You do not disturb me, Elentari," I said, smiling softly as I played with a lock of her hair, which I had somehow found. "Yes, I am learning to feel and hear as I have never done before."

I frowned slightly and bowed my head when Aman again told us that she must clear some dirty dishes. I could hear the thump of glasses, the patter of hobbits feet, the coarse laughter of a rugged man...heaving a sigh, I turned to Elentari and said, "My parents were farmers in Gondor and lived some miles from the White City. When I was around five or six, I was sent to a weaver-woman who lived in Minas Tirith so that I could learn her craft." I fell silent, and recalled the buried memories: sitting before the loom, hearing the wooden shuttle clack merrily back and forth, the smooth feel of the spun wool in my fingers as the design of the blanket took shape. I remembered curding the wool, freeing it from snarls and brambles that had somehow managed to bury themselves and ensnag themselves in the soft wool. Then spinning it into fine thread, the whir of the wheel purring softly as I spun in the firelight.

But that had been when I was older, when my sight was fleeing from me. I continued softy, braiding the elf's fair hair, and said, "Then the attacks came. I did not wish to live the White City, for it impressive and so fair that I could not bear to part with it. I ran from my the Weaver-woman's charge and snuck back to the her house, which was near the wall. I could hear the sound of battle, and I could see small round objects hurtling through the air. One landed with a sickening thud before me and I saw that it was a head: severed cruelly from its body, it's fair face frozen in enduring nobility, though the shadow fear hovered about his eyes. I screamed and rushed into the house, and cowered in the middle of the floor, beside my loom. I don't know how long I stood there, but suddenly, as I was leaving (my conscience having gotten the better of me) to see if I could find the Weaver-woman, a flaming ball of fire plummeted to the house and hit the walls of the house. Flying shrapnel exploded in a fiery rain, and some landed in my eyes. I screamed for the pain was great: that was the first taste of blindness. One found me and brought me to the Houses of Healing, where they later told me that my eyes were bleeding, and that it was a mercy I could see again.

"I learned in that time the art of weaving and sewing, and of the lyre. I could do both well, but there were times when my vision blurred, and my eyes ached. Steadily it became worse until I lost it completley."

[Primrose Bolger]

‘No ma’am,’ came the courteous reply from Primrose, followed by a giggle. The baby had latched onto her finger and was bent on stuffing it in her mouth. Aman scooped the little one from her arms, saying it was her turn, and Prim drew nearer to Cook.

‘Pearly and Wilcome are my aunt and uncle,’ she said, watching as Cook took a single, long vanilla bean pod and buried it in one of the big sugar canisters. ‘Wilcome is my Dad’s older brother. My parents moved to Budgeford just before I was born, to be near my Mother’s family.’ She caught a whiff of the sweet vanilla scent from Cook's hands. Delicious, she thought, then turned her attention back to details of her family. 'It's Larkspur and Tomlin Bolger who are my Mother and Father.'

Prim’s brow furrowed as Cook took the canister and put it in the back of the baking cupboard. She was dying to know why Cook had buried the rather ugly looking bean in the sugar, but didn’t wish to seem impolite. Try as she might she couldn’t recall her Mother ever having vanilla beans.

She was just on the verge of asking the question when, of its own accord, her stomach brought up another topic of looming importance, evidenced by its rumbling and grumbling. Her cheeks crimsoned as the others took note of her. It was a long trip from Frogmorton to Bywater, she offered in explanation, and lunch had seemed hours ago, and a small one at that.

The savory aroma of roasting beef and steaming vegetables had been prickling at the edges of her consciousness, and now with the urgings of her empty stomach, became quite overwhelming. She pulled out her little coin pouch, a pretty little embroidered thing she had done herself, and fished out a few coins the Innkeeper from the Floating Log had given her.

‘Something smells delicious she said, sniffing the air appreciatively. ‘Do you think I might get a plateful and a mug of cider?’

[Jack]

Éofalas fell into a deep sleep. Suddenly a dream of such vividness jarred his mind.

"Come back me, my son..." the words echoed around him, it was a voice he knew well. His grandmother.

Then he saw her, she was lying in a pool of water and gasping. He ran towards her but she dissolved into thin air.

"Come back..." echoed and reverberated around him. He sat up in bed sweating and gasping. He had to go now! Immediately!

Getting up he, grabbed his bag and ran down the stairs (nearly running over some people in his hast). Out to the stables, he got Wyn out of his stall, saddled, and bridled in record time. In moments he was galloping away from the inn. One look back was all he gave it. Someday he would come back... someday!

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik rode into Bywater in the company of Doderic and Gorbadoc Brandybuck. The westering sun was still well above the horizon. He was tired of riding, even though the journey from Buckland was not long by horse.

The Water, just to the north of the road, reflected the intermittent sun and clouds; rain threatened. At least it had held off until they made it into Bywater. The horse and two ponies stopped before the Green Dragon Inn, not far from the stables. The man and two hobbits dismounted and led their mounts to the stables, and wrapped the reins to stable posts. Falowik led the hobbits into the Inn and was met by a commotion of activity!

Falowik was looking for one person. His face did not give away his anticipation - except for his eyes. The Hobbits passed around him and made their way to the bar, but Falowik hung back, hoping to see Uien somewhere in all this crowd of people. They had news to sahre, he was sure, and he hoped hers was good; at least better than his.

[Elora]

Uien blew gently at the shavings and pulled back to see what her carving had revealed. Ah yes, there is one petal, she thought. She had been surprised to find in this wood memory of that flower. It evoked memories sweet and sorrowful both. She stroked the newly shaped petal lightly, aware that there were horses approaching. They drew up outside of the stables. Uien sheathed her knife and set down the newly begun carving. She'd finish the mallorn flower later, when she had a moment.

Standing, the fragrant wood shavings falling from her lap, Uien went to see to the horses that had been left by the stables by the most recent arrivals to the inn. She emerged smoothing her hair back from her face and stopped where she stood. One horse she knew in particular, for she had spoken with it. Uien glanced about, looking for the man who rode it. Falowik was nowhere to be seen.

Faster, Uien drew near the horse he had riden and whispered to it. The horse flicked his ears and snorted in greeting, nudging her shoulder gently. Uien's face cleared as she learnt that the horse had returned with the rider he had set out with, her heart lightening from it's sudden weight. With a sigh of relief, Uien set about breaking the Inn's speed record for tending horses.

She had grain out and water filled for all three at a blistering pace. That done, she all but dashed across the yard to the inn and was still brushing off her hands as she entered the common room. Her eyes scanned the crowd impatiently, roving and searching. She found the one she had been looking for standing through the crowd with two Hobbits. One was Doderic, which she recognised from the night before, the other she did not know.

Uien saw Falowik look about him at the crowd. He found her as she was weaving through the throngs of people. Her eyes were perhaps as bright as her heart that he was well and returned so soon. Her skirts were still swaying around her as she stood before Falowik as Doderic struck up business.

"Ah, there you are Miss Uien. Difficult to spot you amongst so many Elves today. Have you recruited amongst your kindred?"

Before she could answer, they were joined by another who had spotted Falowik's arrived.

"She did try, I'll give her that," Falco Boffin allowed generously, favouring her with a pleased smile. "She had three, in total as of last night. But it seems two of them have thought better of an Elvish riding jaunt and have since left."

"Oh, that is unfortunate," Doderic replied. Uien felt the strongest urge to stamp on Falco Boffin's curly haired toes at the moment. Instead, she inclined her head and demurred as gracefully as she could.

"'Tis true that three did answer the call to search. Two have since had graver business yet to see to and I do not begrudge them that. One still remains." Uien's gaze returned to Falowik's then, patent regret within her eyes.

"I am sorry I could not do better," she finished. There was more she wanted to say, much more, but for now it sat within her. Falco continued his attempt at largess as far as she was concerned.

"Well, you did your best, like as not. Such things really are better left to those professionals who know their business." Uien really did like Falco better when he was being openly peverse.

"I have been able to arrange supplies and mounts for those that remain willing to set out. The horses were not cheap, but they'll serve well. There is sufficient coin to see us a good way down the road."

The hobbit unknown to Uien looked her up and down. Some curled wood shavings clung to her skirts still. All in all, she hardly looked to have the means to so much as purchase a loaf of stale bread. Uien said nothing of what she had parted with. Gorbadoc said nothing of his surprise. His expression was eloquent enough.

"Maybe we should find a table,' he suggested instead. The tables were fast filling for the evening rush and so they took his suggestion and seated themselves nearby. The three hobbits fell into a fast paced discussion of doings as they sat, who was where, which relations were about what business and anything else that seemed to fall within their interest.

That left Uien and Falowik to their own devices. Uien clasped her hands on the table lest she reach across for him now. Instead, she contented herself to drink in the sight of him.

"How do you fare, Laurëatan?"

[Esgallhugwen]

As Esgallhugwen conversed with the Dwarf, Lira took her leave, and what seemed not to far behind a blind Gondorian girl entered. She had taken up with an Elf and Aman saw to her as well,pity, she thought how that can happen to such young beings, the gift of sight taken away.

But her thought were soon disturbed, a man with golden hair entered and Uien rushed to great him; Esgallhugwen knew then and there it must be Falowik. Then the Shirrif came with his snarky remarks, yet he seemed not so demeaning this time trying to sound his fairest.

Esgallhugwen took the last of her drink and thanked the Dwarf for her kindness; saying she needed to tend to her mount. She smiled at Uien as she passed out the door to the stable.

Her graceful yet strong legs brought her quickly to the end of the stables, Morsereg whickered keenly at her arrival. She stroked him gently behind the ears, brushing his jet black mane.

Morsereg's eyes glimmered curiously at the folded piece of cloth that she held next to her side. He stamped his foot, 'a blanket newly made, I purchased some cloth from a Hobbit this morning and set to work on making it; weaving it with silver thread, for the journey ahead of us, it will become cold in the north no doubt and it may come in handy'.

The sky was dim, clouds clumped and streched above them, dripping every so often as if wringing out some wet garment trying to get dry. Esgallhugwen packed it away safely in her saddle bag, humming slightly to the joy of Morsereg's ears.

[Nerindel]

well if you have nothing to tell then I do, she laughed throwing him a mischievous wink.

"After leaving Eryn Lasgalen I journeyed to Lothlorien, Oh! Reynion you should see it even near deserted as it was it still held the beauty of the galadrim, most of those that remained moved to East Lorien, with Lord Celeborn."

Taurëwen spoke nothing of East Lorien, as this was the land where all their bad memories were born, but perhaps sometime she would show it to him. The elves of East Lorien removed all traces of the dark tower and it was a beautiful land once more.

"From Lorien I went south to look in on my Parents who went to Ithilien with prince Legolas, and Reyn it is true he really is friends with a dwarf, " she laughed lightly.

"Then I went to Rivendell, so different from the other elven realms, I spent much time in the hall of fire, listening to songs and tales of old, even adding a few of my own" she smiled.

"It was in Imladris that I was told of gallows weed and an elven ranger suggested that it might help to clear ones mind and one of the Dunedain Rangers that visited the last house recommended this inn,"

"So here I am!" she beamed.

"Oh, that reminds me I have yet to procure a room, perhaps you can help me by directing me to the innkeeper?" she smiled hoping there was a room left.

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath who had been busy mending her old and worn clothing not to mention making herself an entirely new outfit. Came down into the common room for the first time in about a week, well at least she thinks. Looking around she found Aman in the kitchen. Aman was unpacking baskets.


"Aman?" Anna said, and with out stopping she went on, " have you anymore work for me?" Then waiting for an answer Annalaliath, the elf, stood there in the kitchen in her new cloths waiting for direction.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Elentari sat in silence as her new friend recounted to her the painful memories of how her vision was lost. The elf was lucky – she had avoided the War’s worst battle, sticking to her job of killing Spyders in what was then known as Mirkwood. Finduilas had great courage, for to one so young as her, sight is everything. At that age there is still so much to see. But Elentari hoped to mentor this young woman, teaching her other ways in which she can see. She smiled as Finduilas continued to play with her golden locks, twisting and braiding them.

“Your tale is a grim one,” sighed the elf. “But, if you allow me to, I hope to mentor you, guide you in your life. I once had a mentor, and it was his wish that I should help another the way he helped me. Would you allow me this honour?”

Finduilas ceased to braid the elf’s hair. For a while she seemed to be thinking, and then she seemed on the brink of tears. She had had little or no contact with elves, and for this one, this elf she had only just met, to want to help her, it was wonderful.

“I would very much like that!” said the Gondorian, amongst happy sobs. “But I thought you had perhaps come here to sail beyond the Grey Havens, to the Undying Lands.”

Elentari smiled, laughing a little. “I will never Sail. My duty is to the people of Middle Earth. I help those that need it. I would rather stay here an assist people than sail to Valinor. It may sound strange for and elf to say that, but I will never tire of these lands, for I love them and all in it. There are now no battles for me to die in, so I shall live until Time catches up with me, and then, when I am of no use to people anymore, I shall sail.

“It is a great honour for people to allow me to help them. I have met people who have refused my help, believing that an elf can have no love for mortals. I, and many other elves, are so very different to that opinion – we savour every moment we spend with mortals.”

[Kates Frodo Temp]

Aietmen smiled. Perfect! What fools these good folk are! He felt a song coming on. A clever plan, well executed, always brought good inspiration for a song, and never had he been more pleased with a day's work. Yes, the tune was forming now.

The rest would have to wait, however. He was very busy with a steaming bowl of soup at the moment, and could not bother himself with composing. He had been allowed to stay in the kitchen for a while, and was enjoying every minute of rest. The Cook didn't seem very happy, but he kept clear of her, and there was no trouble. The last thing he needed now was them thinking he really was a thief, or simply a trouble-maker. Aman was kind, and Aietmen was confident she had given up the accusation of theft. Still, he would have to be especially careful.

Surely she can't think I'm here to beg. He wasn't sure whether he should be grateful or offended. She had grabbed him roughly, but then suddenly let go and allowed him to speak. Actually, what she did was stare at him more then listen to what he had to say. That was fine, because things hadn't really come out right when he tried to explain. After studying him, she had given him permission to stay in the kitchen to dry off and get something to eat. That was good of her, but it proved she hadn't really been listening to him.

All Aietmen really wanted was to find a place where he could sing his own songs, and dance to his own rythyms, without being hungry and cold, or having people look down on him and pity him. He deserved it, too. Wherever he sang along the road, a crowd would gather to hear him. His voice was sweet and clear, but more importantly, he sang the songs of all lands and peoples.

[Theoric Windcaller]

Theoric returned to the inn shortly after he left, a cloud of weariness over his face.

He was not successful, in finding Mayor Samwise, for when he arrived at Bag End, he found that a message was posted at the door saying that the mayor had gone on some business, and would not be back for a long while.

He walked into the inn, not forgetting to leave his weapon at the door. He knew not what to do now, and he was not the patient type. He did not take liking to the option of waiting for Mayor Samwise to return.

He came to the Shire hoping to settle down quietly, but he knew deep down in his heart he was too young to settle down. His brother once told him that adventure is not gained by those who look for it, but comes to those that it deems worthy.

He began to recount the many adventures he had, and began to dwell on the adventures he might have in the future. He did not think that the Shire was the greatest place for adventure.

The door to the inn swung open, making a loud BONK! as it hit the wall. Two men walked in, their hoods off and their faces in plain sight. Not very secretive, Theoric thought.

They walked in and noticing the sign on the wall, they laid their weapons out gently against the wall.

The first one was with the greatest arsenal of weapons that Theoric had ever seen. He pulled at two daggers from both of his boots, he unsheathed his sword from his belt on the right side, unsheathed another from the sheath on his back, took two larger daggers from his thigh pockets, and finally he unsheathed a short sword from his other sheath on the left side of his belt.

Theoric laughed to himself as the room quieted, staring at these two warriors clad in glitter chain mail, releasing a great load of weapons at the door. Who knows what they used them for. Certainly there were no orcs, goblins or balrogs in the Shire, what were they doing with such weapons here?

"Just passing through," Theoric said to himself, thinking aloud. Aman looked up at his remark with a confused face.

"What?" asked Aman, drying a wet mug with a dry towel.

Theoric only nodded his head, construing that he was only thinking aloud.

Aman walked on, for another hobbit came to the bar, asking for seven or eight pints at the table in the back right corner of the room, by the fireplace. This seemed unusual, for Theoric, because only two hobbits sat at that table, and seven or eight pints of ale was a lot to be consumed.

Theoric quickly pieced it together when another dwarf, like Theoric, had stepped through the inn door along with another man. They unloaded their large arsenal of weapons at the weapons depot, and headed over to the table in the back right corner, where three hobbits and the two men that came in earlier sat.

The dwarf and man joined the others at the tables. This brought their party up to seven members. Their laughter and boasts and their loud voices totally upped the volume of the inn by a great number.

Theoric noticed too, that there were eight chairs at the table, and an eigth pint of ale was sitting, unmanned at the empty eighth spot.

Theoric stood up and walked closer to the table, taking a seat by the fireplace. The tw, large comfortable chairs were called the 'Fireside' by Theoric. He always loved to call it this, for it was where he had always sat and drank his ale and smoked his pipe, thinking of new ways to excite his life.

As he sat down at one of the two empty chairs at the fireside, he began not the think of ways to excite his life, but to listen to the strange party's conversation. The dwarf was able to hear every word breathed from here.

"Aye, the plains of Rohan stretch far and wide, and every once in a while a traveler will get lost, and die of starvation, or maybe of a heat stroke, for that it common in those lands," said one of the humans.

"Aye, but the Shire is extremely comfortable, and next season will my favorite season, autumn," said one of the hobbits.

"I found it quite comfortable in the mountains, in the dark."

That was obviously said by the only dwarf there. There was an uneasy silence. "That reminds me," laughed one of three men.

The dwarf looked at him. "Don't you dare."

The entire group laughed. "What?" they all asked.

"Well, it was when we were all travelling through the Misty Mountains, and Tallon brought along his fiancé, and his sister, for reasons I do not know."

The entire party erupted in laughter.

“And, I think it was the fourth night on our journey, and Tallon was having a very passionate kiss with his fiancé, and Tallon stopped for a minute to go and set out his candle that was lighting the cavern. He did not know that I was awake, thus he went back to his fiancé, and kissed her.

“Well, upon feeling a rough, coarse beard, he jumped back, and realized that it was not his fiancé he kissed, but his sister.”

The party erupted in such joy that Theoric had never seen before. They laughed for a grand total of six minutes, not counting the snickers afterwards. This was the table Theoric needed.

“Well, now that you have very near driven me to hang myself,” snorted the dwarf. “May I ask a question?”

The first of the three humans, Jeramid, replied with a short chuckle. “Aye?”

“You were last seen with the elf, Elithion. Where is he now? He has yet to hear of my great mistake.”

“Alas,” replied the human, “he could not make this grouping, nor could he make it to the business afterwards. Very busy with other business, you see.”

There was a brief silence. “Well, may his mind rest when he is through, and he shall accompany us on our next adventure,” said one of the hobbits.

Theoric’s eyes widened, his smile grew, and his hair stood on end and his insides bursting with joy. What more could he ask for? An adventure had been thrown his way; he must intercept it to be able to participate in this so-called, adventure.

Theoric stood up, the table behind him still laughing and reminiscing, and the dwarf still bitter towards the story that his friend had told.

He inched his way towards the table.

“Excuse me,” he smiled. “I have overheard that a companion of yours was not able to make an appearance at this congregation; I was wondering if I might take his place.”

The party of hobbits, men and a dwarf sat quiet, some of them holding their mugs still as they were in the middle of a sip, letting the ale drip down to their laps.

The dwarf laughed. “This is quite hasty, friend. Do you know us? Do you trust us?”

“I trust everyone save those who have fallen into darkness, and it seems by the moods of your party, sir dwarf, that darkness does not hold sway upon you,” the dwarf wisely replied.

“For all you know, we could be bandits pulling a shadow over your eyes, blinding you from seeing our true selves,” smiled a human.

“For all you know, I could be the same. I could be a cleverer bandit, disguised as a dwarf, only to throttle you in your sleep one night and take your money. But I’m not. Nay, sir dwarf, trust is our only weapon against those we do not know, we can either use it or discard it, but the wise man, uses any weapon he has.”

Theoric hit the nail on the head yet again. He succeeded in making himself plentiful in wise council and he made it obvious that he has been to many places and heard and seen many things. This alone, would be enough to sway a council of orc lords towards the dwarf’s will.

“I can see, stranger, that you are not a bandit, for I can sense these things. And I can see, by your wind-worn hair and your tired grey eyes that you have been many a place; you are welcome here,” smiled the human.

With that, Theoric sat down, grabbed the mug of ale, and drank half of it in one gulp.

“My name is Jeramid, and my other two human friends are Jonathan and Damien.”

The two humans nodded their heads with a smile. “Welcome.”

“The two hobbits that you see, graciously letting their ale fall from their mugs are Heman and Deman, they are brothers,” said Jeramid.

The two hobbits greeted him and went back to their ale.

“And the dwarf, as you might already know, is Tallon Mistdancer.”

The dwarf smiled brightly, a smile that Theoric had not seen in years. “Welcome, brother.”

And finally, Jeramid stood up, motion to everyone else to do the same. “We are the Brotherhood of the Light.”

“Does this mean I am invited to be a brother?” asked Theoric, with a smile.

“Oh nay! You must prove yourself to us. This just means that we officially invite you to join our table. From now on, whenever we meet you along the road, you are welcome to dine with us.”

Theoric sat down with a wider smile than before. Theoric not only intercepted his chance for adventure, but he charged for the victory as well.

[littlemanpoet]

"How do you fare, Laurëatan?"

Falowik felt as if just the short time apart had caused a chasm that needed to be crossed with great care. Her bright eyes did much to span the chasm, for her heart was in them.

"Well enough," he replied, allowing a slight smile. Far better now that I see you again. But those words did not come to his mouth. "The Master of Buckland is a good man-" Falowik's eyes strayed to the three hobbits deep in talk. "-hobbit, if I'm any judge. He has sent Gorby, here, to be one of our party. Doderic, Gorby, and I are off to Bree as soon as Doderic deems we're ready. We wanted to come by here and see how your efforts were-" His report faded on his lips. She was giving her full attention to his words, but they were not worth her attention. There were other things he wished he could say.

He had begun to convince himself, while on the road, that she, an Elf of high birth, was too noble for him, a mere wanderer of a Man, that she deserved his adoration and courtesy, but her heart was too high to be given to him. So he had convinced himself in his mind, and he was sure that it was right to be so convinced. Meanwhile, the closer they came to Bywater, the more urgent became his need to see her again.

She waited in the silence he left while these thoughts rushed through his mind. A single line creased her brow.
"I am sorry," Falowik ventured, "I say so much and so little. It is good, aye," he nodded, "good to see you again." I felt half a man away from you. He would have said the words he thought before he had left Bywater for Buckland, but now he could not voice them. His need for her raged against his resolve.

"How do you fair, Uien?"

[Elora]

So much and so little indeed, Uien mused as Falowik spoke. An impatience fluttered through her like a summer rain storm, quickly rising and passing. She would happily beg leave of the Hobbits, indeed the world, if only to have the chance to speak as her heart wished to. To do so would be intemperate and hasty and Falowik, she had learnt this much, was a man of discreet privacy. She would not cheapen their moments with desperate haste.

However, Uien was not beyond the pull of her thoughts and emotions. At Falowik's questions, her lips curved into a soft smile that perhaps was not so discreet and her eyes were warm.

"Better, now," she said with subtle emphasis on her meaning. Something hung behind Falowik's words that she could not quite understand. She looked briefly down at her hands and unwound them from where they clasped before her on the table. No barriers, not with her love and not between her love.

"Much better now," she reaffirmed and looked up into Falowik's face once more.

"Don't see why she's so pleased," Falco commented as he noted the clear pleasure of her expression as she gazed upon Falowik. Uien merely raised a brow and bit her tongue. There was a great deal that perhaps the Shirrif did not see, but pointing it out now would not aid any of them, Falowik least of all.

"I am pleased you have returned well and so soon, with more aid what is more. I have been looking to your return before you had even faded into the night." That last statement was meant for Falowik also. There was much more she had to say to him and he her, if she guessed correctly.

"We returned as quickly as we may," Doderic assured her.

"I take it that the Master of Buckland has committed aid to this venture," Uien inquired. Doderic nodded, Gorby mirroring his cousin's response and adding, "He's sent out a notice that any who would aid are to gather at the Prancing Pony as soon as they may. Provisions, horses all are to be supplied."

Falco snorted in laughter, "Generous as ever... I take it you'll be keen to sell back your horse then, Uien, for that Dwarvish trinket you traded." At that Uien's brow furrowed once more and she took issue.

"I regret it not at all. What value a trinket or mathom when set against a man's life?" Or love, she added to herself and looking back to Falowik.

"Though I hope otherwise, it may be that we will become grateful of the extra mounts and supplies when alone in the wilds. A cleverly designed Dwarvish brooch will be of little comfort if we starve whilst admiring it's beauty."

Never mind that she'd sell the dress off her own back if it came to it, for love of Falowik. "When do we set out tomorrow," she asked, her hand moving across the table to establish some nearness to Falowik of its own accord, discretion and propriety irrelevant to it.

"As early as can be," Doderic suggested. Conversation turned to negotiations over first and second breakfasts soon after that. Falco was strongly advocating first and second breakfasts were to be had at a table, as proper. Doderic was advocating a brief first breakfast and not hint of a second breakfast. Gorby ventured a first breakfast at a table and a second upon the road, but neither Falco nor Doderic paid him any attention.

In that space, Uien dared reach the final distance to brush Falowil's fingers with her own. The warmth of his skin on her fingertips was like a sigh rushing through her and she smiled into his face. Falowik watched her hand, caught in that moment.

[elf-girl-63]

Nuinyulma looked up in surprise as Falowik, Falco, Doderic and another entered the common room. Quickly, she bowed her head, not wanting to embarrass herself. She still felt guilty about deciding against the trip, it was to help a Rohan man. Why had she decided against it? Deep in her heart of hearts, she knew. Rohan was a place of pwerful memories- memories she had not told anyone. She had meant to, meant to tell many people. But the subject had never come up so she had just spoken around it. It was true that she had left Lorien and journeyed over far and distant lands but there were events inbetween that.

She could never have gone. It would have been disasterous if the man had recognised her. She could barely speak to Aman even though she had never even heard of Nuinyulma before she arrived at the inn.

Nuinyulma looked up again, Uien and Falowik were in deep conversation and had obviusly not noticed her. So she decided to go and find Pio, maybe they could finish their conversation and maybe she could reveal the truth. She slipped through the common room and opened the kitchen door. There sat, Pio, Mithaden, Aman and some others as well as the twins. Well, she couldn't talk now. She was about to leave when Pio's voice rang out.

"Nuinyulma! Come and join us!"

She blushed and walked over to the group and sat down.

"Let me introduce you to Mithaden, my husband. I believe you know the rest."

Nuinyulma blushed again, nodded and held out her hand to Mithaden.

"Another elf. This is becoming almost like the Last Homely House Aman. How many more can we expect?" He grinned and Aman frowned, though in a friendly way. Nuinyulma and Mithaden both sat down.

"We were just discussing the party for the twins. The actual naming ceremony will be quiet but we should have many celebrations before and perhpas after."

Aman nodded in agreement and then suddenly sprung up. "My, my Pio! You would have been talking about parties and the like when I should be running this inn. Honestly! Ruby! Buttercup! Come! You need to start serving some food and drink. Folks don't come here to sit around by themselves."

And with that she left the kitchen with Ruby and Buttercup trailing behind. The three that were left smiled while the twins cooed. Mithaden smiled lovingly at them and Pio while Nuinyulma watched. He soon got up and spoke to his wife.

"I'll be back later my dear. But I wish to walk around for a little while and then may have some ale in the common room."

She nodded him away and turned to Nuinyulma who sat silently.

"So, are you going to tell me your story?"

"Well, I am originally from Lothlorien but when Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn left so did I. Since then, I have been wandering. I have passed through Rohan and Gondor and Arnor to the north. I did not visit Eryn Lasgalen for I fear there is noone there although I hope I am wrong. There is little left in my home as well. I arrived in the Shire for no particular reason. I suppose since Frodo and his companion journeyed with the Ring I have had an interest in it."

She sighed in contemplation and the elder elf stared into her eyes as if she didn't quite believe her. To break the silence she offered to take the baby girl and gladly received it. They both rocked the babies for several moments.

"The Shire is an interesting place. Much more than many believe." She turned away remembering the past.

"Now you have heard my story Mistress Piosenniel. Tell me yours."

[ October 19, 2003: Message edited by: elf-girl-63 ]

[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.

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:

Derufin, a Man from Ethring in the Ringló Vale, is the stablemaster and general handyman/jack of all trades for the Inn. (Character written for by Envinyatar)

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen (Character written for by Piosenniel)

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 and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Amaranthas Bolger – very old, crotchety Hobbit from Hobbiton, nicknamed ‘The Dragon’

Piosenniel – Elven, Innkeeper prior to Aman; married to Mithadan; has two children: a twin boy and girl; as yet unnamed infants.
_____________________________________________


It is near suppertime of an early evening in midsummer.

[ October 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Imladris]

I listened to Elentari offering to mentor me: at first my spirit rebelled against such an offering, though I knew it was offered out of kindness: never before had I need or accepted help. Even my parents did not know that I was completely blind now. But as I listened to her, a strange sort of joy rippled through me: the thought of being able to see again, though only with my ears, nose, and touch, would be a joy. I honestly could not conceive how I had managed to get from Bree to here: it had been a rather painful journey.

"Yes, Elentari," I said, groping for her hand and finally finding it. "Mentor me, help me. You have no idea how horrible it is not to be able to see the sun setting in the western sky, the green fields stretch to the horizon, the galloping of the horses, the wildflowers that are scattered in the meadows, the flight of birds winging above the earth..."

I sighed, for even Elentari could not grant me that one wish. I wondered what it would be like to be deaf: I would be able to see the bard strumming upon his harp -- but not hear the sweet, aching sounds of melody; I would be able to see the birds -- yet not hear their trills; I would see a rushing river, yet I would not hear it chuckle and laugh. But I would be able to run free and wild, climb the trees of the woods, swing myself upon a stair's banister and slide to the floor. I turned to Elentari, and, pushing such useless thoughts away, said again, "Thank you."

[Elsilda]

The sun was out, bright and warm, but Elsilda was still wet and cold. She had been riding all day, Melde was tired and had been limping for the past two hours. He was a strong horse with a beautiful brown coat and deep brown eyes. He could travel long distances, but Elsilda was pushing it and she knew it. “Oh Melde, its not far, the hobbit said that the Inn should be half an hour a way” she said in a soft voice, stroking her horses silky mane. Elsida saw something in the distance, she squinted her eyes “there it is! We made it Melde!” Elsilda exclaimed.

Elsilda rode for a while and finally reached the Inn, she sighed with relief. “Oh Melde, you are such a great companion!” she said to her loyal steed. She climed off Melde and then patted her “just wait here, while I find someone who can take you to a stable, you can then have water and hay” she said.

Elsilda looked around and found the stables. She walked into the stable and there was an elf brushing a horse he was a friendly looking elf, very muscular and about medium height, he look trustworthy. He stood up and smiled “Greetings! Can I help you?” he asked while walking up to her.
“Greetings kind sir, who is in charge of the stables?” Elsilda asked.
“Why I am, what can I do for you?” he said grinning.
“My horse needs a resting place, some food and hay” Elsilda explained “let me take you to my horse!” She was curious and wanted to know more about this elf. “My name is Elsilda! May I ask what your name is?” she said.
“My name is Derufin! Where are you from and where are you going“ Derufin asked, and smiled again.
“Oh, I am from Imladris and I am heading towards the Grey Havens” she said “I love going on journeys and meeting people on the way! I just wish I had a companion to travel with though.” Elsilda said with a heavy sigh “and you are from?”
He was silent for a moment “I am from Ethring in the Ringlo Vale” he exclaimed, admiring Elsildas blue eyes. They both took Melde to the stables and gave her water an hay. “Elsilda it was lovely meeting you and I am sure we will meet again sometime soon. You should go inside and get dry and eat something!” Derufin said.
“Thank you so much for all the help, I really appreciate it” she exclaimed. She walked outside, the sun was still shining bright but there was a cold breeze.

Elsilda entered the Green Dragon Inn. It was warm and lovely inside and had a peaceful, calm environment. She looked around and everyone was smiling or talking, Elsilda loved these happy places. She walked over to the bar and took a seat. It was soft and comfortable, something she hadn’t experienced in a while. She loved journeys but didn’t like riding for days and not having company. Sitting at the bar was a beautiful slim, brown haired young woman. The young woman glanced over at Elsilda and smiled, Elsilda liked the look of this woman and wanted to befriend her but before Elsilda knew it the young woman was walking over to her.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[Larien Lindorenan]

All afternoon, Nedieth had browsed the market tables but now it was early evening, so she headed back to the inn. By now she was smiling and looking over her new-found treasures like an excited elfling. In her hands she carried a beautiful glass bowl with flowers painted on the bottom and an ashwood box. On her head she wore a crown of white flowers that a hobbit lass had made for her. Around her neck she wore a new necklace with a flax chain and a brass charm imbedded with litte jewels that looked like stars. She chuckled gleefully, remembering what her mother had taught her about relishing in simple gifts.

As she neared the inn, she became more and more anxious to sip some warm apple cider and try to start a conversation with someone. These complete changes in mood were common in her, she reflected.
she would be sad one moment and the next be smiling sunshine.

She put the box and bowl back in her pack as she entered the inn and settled herself at a table. She glanced around the room as she waited for some to come to her and noticed an elf who sat with a women having her hair braided. Nedieth's heart beat faster as she realized the elf looked like she came from Eryn Lasgalen. She stood up quickkly and made her way over to the elf's table. As she neared, she heard the women beside her call her Elentari.

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: Larien Lindorenan ]

[OniGene]

Rain poured endlessly, never granting a moment's mercy. The skies were darkened by the clouds above, and it was almost impossible to determine whether it was day or night. It didn't matter to the traveller, however. Time was nonexistant to him. It was only the journey that had any meaning.

Water overflowed the crease in the traveller's helmet, sloshing onto his face and shoulders. His entire body was drenched and his clothes would have to be hung to dry, should the sky permit it the next morning. He didn't care, for he was used to any harsh condition.

As he walked toward the center of the village, he heard the muffling of voices within hobbit holes and inns alike. Weary from a long journey, he chose the closest inn to stay the night. The lights from within the place shone down on the ground in front and shadows of figures moving danced across his face as he stepped forward.

Stopping just outside the door, he slung a large leather bag from his shoulder and plopped it into the mud, splashing some onto his worn boots and faded red pant legs. Rubbing his bruised shoulder and ignoring the mess, he glanced up at the swinging sign of the inn, "Green Dragon Inn" it said. "Well," he thought, "This is the place she told me to come to. Let's just hope she's right..."

He gave a grunt and, hoisting up his belongings over his shoulder, he stepped through the swinging door. The lighting revealed his details as he entered the inn. Matted brown hair stuck out of his helmet. He looked not a bit over thirty, his long face sculpted to near perfection. Scars did cross his face, but a very revealing one went from his nose through his right eye, leaving one eye blue and the other a clouded grey.

Squinting a bit from the sudden brightness change, he looked around. He had noticed that the voices he has heard from the outside were now very distinct and very...loud. Drinking songs were being sung in a corner as a hobbit was standing upon a table and cheering friends surrounding him. The traveller noticed, too, that there were more than just hobbits (which he knew it was very peculiar for the Shire to have more than one full-grown being there at a time). Indeed, two elves he noticed were close to the bar (one he saw with a wooden leg). Several dwarves were present as were some humans as well.

He dismissed these facts and ignored the noise, walking straight up to the bar and sat down on a full-sized stool, caring of nothing about his clothing dripping water onto the floor around him. Food first and sleep later, he told himself. "Barkeep...mead and a loaf, if you will."

With that, the kept to himself, although he kept his ears open in anticipation.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman nodded and smiled politely to the stranger, passing the order of bread and ale onto Ruby, who was trying as quietly as possible to sneak into the kitchen. As she turned again to the front, she noticed another come in, an elven woman.

Another elf! She smiled to herself, remembering Mithadan's comment and her own thoughts. And this elf was indeed as elegant and as quietly self confident as many of them - but as she looked up, Aman noticed her eyes were the most extraordinary shade of blue. Bright, cornflower blue, and warm as well...

The elf had started to come towards the bar, and Aman jolted back awake, trying not to stare. And certainly she did not seem as melancholy as many of the elves - she had an air of warmth and friendliness about her. But she was dressed in travelling clothes - and an elf travelling this way through the Shire could only really mean one thing eventually. Aman sighed - yet another of the immortals would sail.

The elf was at the bar now, and Aman moved over to her, sweeping the top of the bar with a cloth absent mindedly. Nodding her head politely, she smiled at the elf. "Good day, can I get you anything, miss...?" She left the end open.

She was greeted in reply with a beaming grin, and an eager reply. "Elsilda. My name is Elsilda. Could I have an ale and...lets see...have you any cheescake?"

Aman smiled - she liked this elf already, with her smiles and her ready, eager air. "I'll see what I can do - I believe Cook made some very recently - there's going to be a bit of a party pretty soon. Hang on a second," she broke off, raising her voice to call to Buttercup for a slice of cheesecake please, and the server scurried off to comply. Aman smiled after her, then turned back to the elf, beginning to pour an ale.

"My name is Aman, by the way - I'm the Innkeeper here at the Dragon. May I ask how you came around this area? More and more of the fair folk are passing through...." Sliding the drink across the bar, she raised her eyebrows in askance to Elsilda.

[Elsilda]

"Good day, can I get you anything, miss...?" the beautiful young woman said. Elsilda smiled and said "Elsilda. My name is Elsilda. Could I have an ale and...lets see...have you any cheesecake?" Elsilda loved cheesecake and ale, back in Imladris her mother made her cheesecake often. Elsilda thought back, she missed her mother and her friends. The young woman smiled at her again "I'll see what I can do - I believe Cook made some very recently - there's going to be a bit of a party pretty soon. Hang on a second," the young woman exclaimed. Elsida loved parties, the fancy dress the food and the wonderful joy in the air. She hadn’t been to a party in a while.


Aman called over a hobbit and ordered a slice of cheesecake and ale. The young woman looked at Elsilda, they were both in deep thought. "My name is Aman, by the way - I'm the Innkeeper here at the Dragon. May I ask how you came around this area? More and more of the fair folk are passing through...." the young woman said.
“I am from Imladris and I am heading towards the Grey Havens,” Elsida said. Aman kept looking at her blue eyes, many were amazed by them. The servent brought some cheesecake over. Elsilda took a sip of her ale and ate a piece of cheesecake. She smiled “oh, this cheesecake is devine!” she loved the cheesecake it tasted like her mothers, maybe even better. Aman smiled “everyone loves the cakes we serve and the cheesecake a chocolate cake are the favourites around here” she said. Elsida ate the cheesecake and was soon finished. “Thank you, it was perfect” Elsida exclaimed. “This is a lovely Inn you run. I passed some strange folk on the way, do they stay here by any chance?” Elsilda enquired.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elsilda ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

"Elentari?"

Soronume noticed a familiar face in the inn, though he had not looked upon it in some time now. Not since he last left Mirkwood after the quest to Cirith Ungol.

The elf walked over to the bar and asked for a drink, which he was served promptly. He studied the maiden. She looked changed, though only slightly. Wiser perhaps. And she was not alone, she had company.

When he has last seen Elentari, Soronume was sure that she would not leave Mirkwood, or the position of responsibilty that had been bestowed upon her, and so was curious to find out what had brought her to the Shire. He walked over to their table quietly...

"Elentari?" he questionned, "What news of Mirkwood? And how have you been? Have you heard from any of the others?" Soronume felt slightly embarrassed by this last comment, but waited for a reply none the less...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman laughed quietly, leaning gently on the bar as Elsilda finished her cheesecake.

"Strange folk?" She asked amused. "Goodness, depends on what you class as strange. We do indeed get all sorts around here. From the Havens to Harad."

Elsilda's eyes widened. "From Far Harad?"£

"Indeed, and from as far as Rhun. I do wonder why so many of such variety do come here, but then, I suppose I'm not exactly one to talk - why, you, an elf, have come from closer than I." At Elsilda's questioning look, she continued, "I was one of the Rohirrim horse trainers. So you see, it really does depend on what you class as strange."

Elsilda nodded thoughtfully, playing with her fork. "Indeed, so it would seem. But dwarves...?"

Aman shook her head. "The dwarf hasn't got a room here, but many of the elves do, to name one group - as I said, strange that so many should come through the Shire, but then...but then I suppose that's the way you will all eventually go." She couldn't help from looking a little sad here. How long will it be before the fairest and wisest of all pass out of Middle Earth altogther? Even this girl in front of you is on her way...

Elsilda must have noticed her sadness, for the elf tried a smile, leaning forward. "Our time here is passing," she murmured. "The time of the elves...it is waning. The time of men is coming, and we...we will sail to Valinor. Our last home." Her smile became more jovial suddenly, and she held up her ale as if making a toast.

"But until then, I for one will make the most of the fine hobbit food!"

Aman laughed with the elf, the sudden change of mood lightening the atmosphere like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Passing a look through the kitchen door, she caught sight of Aietmen again, who was curiously examining some of the vanilla beans. Cook will blow a fuse if she sees that... Aman thought, smiling slightly at the same time as biting her lip. The little hobbit boy had been good since his arrival, but Cook was certainly making it clear she wasn't all too happy about him - Aman had told her at the time of the incident about the 'horse-thief', and she knew Vinca suspected the boy was up to no good. But he had spun Aman a story, and it seemed likely enough - and the Innkeeper had no objection to him being around here. Besides, the twins were as curious about him as he was good with them, and Aman had no doubt that Pio had rather taken a shine to him.

However, Cook really would not be happy to see him playing with her vanilla beans. Excusing herself politely from Elsilda, the Innkeeper took the elf's dirty plates and went towards the kitchen.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel

Niniel stretched as she entered the common room; lifting heavy buckets all day had been unacustomed work for her. She was more used to 'light work,' though there wasn't going to be much call for that now that she had a respectable job. She waved to Aman, who was sitting with several elves, none of whom did the young woman recognize, though that was unsurprising considering how many elves Niniel had met previously--no, wait! One of the elves turned his head, and Niniel's heart gave a little flutter as she recognized Soronume.

Studiously avoiding staring at him, she walked over towards the bar, glancing back every few seconds at the handsome elf, if that be not too redundant. She just about ran into a man during one of those brief glances and only just saved herself from catastrophe.

"I-I-I do b-b-b-beg your p-p-pardon, s-s-sir! I-I-I wasn't w-watching w-w-where I was going," she stammered in apology. What was it about strange men that brought out the worst of her stutter...

____________________________________________

Reynion

Reynion smiled at his beloved as she enthusiastically described the places she'd been. It sounded as if she'd been enjoying her travels much more than he had his. Of course, she was unlikely to have been drunk out of her wits for most of the journey and hung-over for the rest. He lost track of her words at about the time she mentioned Ithilien; he was too caught up in watching the way her eyes sparkled, and the graceful way she moved her slender hands. A thin lock of bright hair had fallen into her face and trembled with the movement of her head for emphasis.

"Oh, that reminds me I have yet to procure a room, perhaps you can help me by directing me to the innkeeper?"

Called back to himself, Reyn mused, "Well, if you want, you could have my room. I could see if there was room in the stable..." he broke off as Taurewen shook her head emphatically. "Or we could ask Aman," he added. "I'm sure she could do something about a room for you."

He gently brushed the bit of hair out of her face, and pulled himself up onto his wooden leg with the ease brough by long years of practice. He took his staff in hand and led the way towards Aman and her many companions.

[piosenniel]

‘So, you are a traveler, as am I,’ said Pio, watching Nuinyulma rock her daughter. ‘Did you not visit Lord Celeborn in Rivendell? I believe that is where he dwells now, though I have heard he will soon travel the same road as did Galadriel; going West to look never more on his fair land.’ She laid her son in his cradle, his eyes heavy with sleep.

‘And Eryn Lasgalen – the Elven people of Thranduil’s realm have reclaimed it you know. And once more the leaves shine brightly there.’ Pio poured a mug of cool cider for herself and offered one to Nuinyulma.

‘Your story is a brief one – with much left out, I would say. And painful in those parts if I read the sadness behind your eyes aright. But that is your business, not mine to set right.’ She took a drink of the sweet juice, savoring it as it ran down her throat.

‘My story!’ She laughed in delight, the sound of tiny silvered bells skittering into the room. ‘Such a long one! We should be sitting here until the Inn falls down about our ears, and all has passed into distant memory.’ Her clear grey eyes met the young Elf’s. ‘Suffice it to say I had my childhood, such as it was, in Gondolin. And it was pleasant enough in that beautiful place; until it was betrayed into the hands of Morgoth. And by an Elf, no less!’

‘I was lucky to escape with Idril’s family, and after I was fostered by the Fallinelli, the Teleri who lived along the Falas between Brithombar and Barad Nimras. Still we were not safe from Morgoth’s dark hand. And later when he came against us we sailed south to Balar.’ Pio shook her head a little, then smiled, remembering that the Dark One was now overthrown and lay, well guarded behind the Door of Night . . . at least for the time being.

'Now, here I am in the Fourth Age, that of Man . . . and to be honest, I look forward to enjoying it, as long as the years left to me will allow.’ She reached down and stroked her baby’s cheek..

‘There is peace of a sort. The world has come to some resolve and seems set on a fresh course. I will enjoy it as will my children, until time comes for me.’

Pio laughed again, and refilled her mug from the ewer on the little table next to her. ‘And you, what pleasures are you looking forward to? Are you going on this quest I have heard rumors of?’ Nuinyulma was quiet, sipping her drink. Pio leaned down to freshen it.

‘You will come to the party, at least, will you not?’

[OniGene]

The mead and bread slid over to him and the traveller nodded his appreciation and, with a grunt, drank down the sweet mead. It had been awhile since he had been able to drink such a beverage, and he gulped it down greedily. With a sigh and a slight belch, he put down the mug and lifted the loaf of bread, tearing into its warmth.

As he ate, still dripping from the rain, he overheard the conversation on the other end of the bar, "The time of the elves...it is waning. The time of men is coming, and we...we will sail to Valinor. Our last home." The traveller couldn't help but laugh to himself. "What a fool that elf is," he thought, "What a fool is any elf who believes that."

The voices had lessened to a constant murmer as it grew late and many either retreated to their rooms or went back to their homes in the village. He grew tired of listening any further to Pio or the others. Also was he tired of waiting for her. She would not show tonight, so he must wait until the next day. So, leaving a few gold coins with the emblem of the City of Corsairs, he walked to Aman and requested the keys to his room.

Deciding to wait in the hallway for Aman to finish her immediate tasks. As the traveller walked toward the hall, he bumped into one of the elves. The sudden jolt knocked off his loose helmet, it falling with a thud to the floor. Not even concerned with the elf, he quickly grabbed for the helmet and slid it back over his ears. Making sure no one saw them, he slowly stood up and turned to the elf he had accidentaly bumped into. Not knowing Niniel's name, he tried to mutter an apology, but all that came out was a raspy grunt.

Not giving the elf a second glance, the traveller turned and walked away.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: OniGene ]

[littlemanpoet]

Her hand touched his.

Falowik had been aware of Uien's hands, folded on the table, then unclasped, then one hand moving to his, acting for all the world as if it were metal drawn to magnet. The hairs on his fingers had risen in anticipation as he paid all the attention he could muster to the discussion with the hobbits. But all the while she was in his awareness. He knew where she looked, knew her expression, the meaning of her tone as well as her words, and he had felt her hand come nearer. Why not just surrender to it? he allowed himself to wonder, but knew the many answers by heart: not here, not now, he did not deserve her; and in any case, there was a life that maybe hung in the balance. The thought of Master Eodwine of Rohan served well to anchor Falowik safely between the deeps of his need and the shoals of his resolve.

He bent his fingers around hers, and smiled for her with his lips though not his eyes. He turned his attention to Doderic.

"Why wait for the morning, Master? We have learned what we came to learn here. The sun is still in the sky. Can we not make it to Bree by nightfall? Is that not what the Master of Buckland would want?" Uien's sudden frown was not lost on Falowik.

"Yes, the Master would like that best, and it could be done," Doderic mused, "though we'd not reach Bree by nightfall."

"Hold a moment!" Falco said. "If we'd not reach Bree by nightfall, what good is it to set out afore the morning? I say stay right here!"

"You may do what you like, Master," Falowik said, "but as the time slips away, Eodwine of Rohan stays lost, and maybe worse." Falco scowled.

"There's the Stonebow half way," Gorby ventured.

"What'd be the point of going half way if we can make it to Bree in just a couple hours more?" Falco protested.

Uien squeezed Falowik's hand. "She who has agreed to go with us will not be ready until tomorrow, and I should remain with her."

Falowik nodded. "So it should be, but I feel the hours slip away while I sit here, and I would be off to Bree to press on with our preparations there."

Doderic raised a hand. "I'm all for moving as quickly as we may, but one night in Bywater will not make a great enough difference, I deem. So let it be one breakfast here at dawn for Master Falowik, Gorby and me, and you also, Master Boffin, if you like, and then we're off to Bree."

Falco nodded and rose. "I have business to attend to that will keep me past the dawn, my friends, but you may expect me in Bree before nightfall tomorrow, if that meets with your approval, Master Doderic." Doderic nodded his approval, and Falco bid them good night with one last comment regarding the supposed need for Elven ladies in a search party in the wilds. Uien bit back a retort and turned her head away from the hobbit, looking to Falowik, who rose.

"The lady and I have pressing business," he told the hobbits. He nodded to Uien and she rose, and they walked out the front door of the Inn.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Primrose Bolger]

Now this was very interesting! Prim watched as the Elf slid her hand near that of the golden-haired man. She was pretty, Prim thought, but there was something in the man’s expression that signaled this was not the time for softness, though his own fingers wrapped about hers. He smiled at her, Prim saw, but the curve of his lips did not push the smile to his eyes.

Instead, the man turned to one of the Hobbits sitting near and listened with his full attention. Prim crept closer, her plate of food in her hands and sat down at a nearby table. Hungry as she was, she pushed her food about her plate with her spoon, one ear cocked toward the conversation.

One of the Hobbits raised a hand. "I'm all for moving as quickly as we may, but one night in Bywater will not make a great enough difference, I deem. So let it be one breakfast here at dawn for Master Falowik, Gorby and me, and you also, Master Boffin, if you like, and then we're off to Bree."

A few more words were spoken in a lower tone, and Prim was unable to catch them. She watched as the Elf and man walked from the Common Room.

‘Curious,’ she thought to herself, spooning up a bite of vegetables. She chewed them thoughtfully, looking closely at the Hobbit whom she had heard. ‘Now what might Hobbits be doing with an Elf and a one of the Big Folk in the Shire. And why were they in such haste to make for Bree?’

[ElentariGreenleaf]

There was silence in the Inn as the name ‘Mirkwood’ was said by Soronume. A quick glance from Elentari was enough to tell others in the Inn to continue their own conversations.

“Greetings, Soronume.” Elentari gestured to a seat next to her. “Please join us. Soronume, this is Finduilas, a Gondorian to whom I am now a mentor. Finduilas, this is Soronume.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Finduilas.

“And you.” Soronume was about to ask why the woman did not look directly at him, when Elentari elbowed him sharply in the ribs, so he said instead, “Why was there such hush when I mentioned the name of your home, Elentari?”

“The wood is no longer called by that dark name. Lord Celeborn and Kind Thranduil cleansed it more than a decade ago. It is known now as the Wood of Green Leaves, a name quite suited to the now fair place. I have been fine since we last met, though the evil things I have encountered have not fared so well,” she said with a smile. “As for hearing from the others, I have briefly spoken to a few, but have had little contact with them.”

“Ah,” said Soronume. “So that is why you are not in Mir- the Wood of Green Leaves. There is now nothing for you to defend wood against.”

“Yes,” laughed Elentari. “It seems I am out of a job!”

The three friends, some old friends, others new, laughed together and told many tales. Soronume offered Elentari and Finduilas drinks, but she would drink nothing alcoholic. Eventually Elentari decided it was time to ask Soronume how he came to be in the Shire.

“So, Soronume,” said the elf. “How did you come to be in the Shire? You have not visited here often.”

[elf-girl-63]

Pio had read her correctly but it was good of her not to say anything much. It was not the right time so speak of her past. It never really was.

"So the leaves in Eryn Lasgalen shine again. That is most probably the case but I would still not wander there. Leaves are part of the wood but the elves, well, they can move as they please. It is only when the fall, do leaves move."

She thought about the other elf's comments on Celeborn. "I had no desire to visit Lord Celeborn. I knew him in Lorien and no doubt to see me once more would sadden him. I would fear he misses his Lady and am surprised he has not left sooner."

She nodded in thanks as Pio refilled her mug and laid the baby girl next to her brother so both could take comfort and warmth from each other as they slept.

"I was to go on this quest... but I decided against it. I wasn't sure I would be useful and to be honest, wanted to spend more time at the Inn. I will indeed be a guest at the party and am looking forward to it. Mayhap, you will be telling some stories Mistress Pio, for that would be good entertainment. I'm sure your husband has some to tell by the looks of it as well."

She looked at Pio and there was a twinkle in her [Nuinyulma's] eye. "I had thought of you as a quiet one Nuinyulma but perhaps I was wrong! There shall be a fair bit of story-telling no doubt but perhaps more from others than myself. I hope you will give us some tales and some songs, since you are of Lothlorien it is to be expected."

"And you are of ages older than me or indeed anyone else in this inn, I hope you shall give us some. It is to be expected."

Both elves laughed merrily together and Nuinyulma felt a weight lifted from her heart and shoulders. The two babies stirred in their sleep and they looked guiltily at each other.

"It is a good job that I am not with my people at this moment," whispered Nuinyulma, "for we are supposed to be calm and wise."

"It is true," Pio whispered back, "but for now, we are in the land of the hobbits and laughing is one of their favourite occupations."

They both sipped their drinks once more and thought of the other.

Nuinyulma liked Pio. She was a young elf at heart though her age hid some sadness. It seemed that the arrival of the twins had renewed her faith in not only Middle-Earth but in life itself. Unless, she had always been like that.

[Geffen]

A quiet entrance was not uncommon at the Green Dragon. With the number of visitors coming and going, combined with the passion and exaggeration of the stories shared within, a lonely wanderer trudging to the bar was an all too familiar sight. Hence, no one took much notice when an average man with an average demeanor side-stepped his way through the crowd and ordered the first of what would become many pints of what was said to be the finest ale in the area.

No-one noticed, except of course, Aman, whose keen eye (and even keener sense of tension) told her that this traveller was unfamilliar. "What'll it be, sir? A pint, I assume, if you don't mind my guessing." The traveller sat silently fo a moment, then replied "I don't mind you guessing at all, my lady, as that is exactly why I'm here."

As she poured the frothy ale into the glass, without shifting her gaze from the bar, she inquired as to who this stranger was. and what brings him to the shire. As he stared into the overflowing glass he replied "My name is Ahreknun, and my reasons for for my presance will need more than a few of these before they will be told."

He took a sip, closed his eyes, and shut out all around him save for his brew.

[piosenniel]

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[Elora]

As Uien followed Falowik away, the buzz of voices fading, something revealed itself to her mind. In the late afternoon, Uien was uneasy as her mind unveiled it to her. Falowik was silent as he walked, his hand drawing her on after him. Down the steps of the front porch and out into the yard they went. Falco's parting comment was all but forgotten.

Falowik's stride was interrupted as Uien slowed, her fingers slipping a little from his. He turned, looking in askance at her and find her gaze locked on the ground. She was still, and her hand was freed. Uien felt warmth suffuse her face and she had the strong urge to twist her hands in her skirts as had oft been her habit in the days of her youth. Often she had stood, hands twined in her skirts as she grappled with her thoughts.

When she raised her head and looked back to Falowik, her face was grave and her expression difficult to read. She touched his arm and gestured towards the stables.

"If you leave this night, I would have you take what little I have managed to gather for the trail with you." Falowik frowned, nodded slowly and their path altered until the cooler shade of the stable swallowed them both. Uien made for where the bundles of herbs she had gathered with Falowik hung. She bent to retrieved a well wrapped parcel of provisions from where it leant against the stable wall with its mate.

"Doubtless the Master of Buckland will have ample provisions upon reaching Bree," she said as she offered Falowik the supplies. "There is bread, dried meat, grain and fruits, cram and cheese..." Her voice trailed off uncertainly and she sighed in sorrow. There was no hiding from the truth in her mind. Falowik took the proffered wrapped food from her in silence and her gaze dropped once more as she gathered her courage and her skirts.

Her fingers did not twine in their folds but rather she spread them as she curtsied, head bowed and remained there. In a low voice filled with regret, Uien ventured where she feared to tread.

"I seek your pardon," she whispered. "I promised aid that I did not deliver, and faithless must I seem now." Uien had seen it in his eyes when she reached for him across the table. She pushed past the ache within her and ventured to glance back up at Falowik. He stood staring ahead, jaw bunched tightly. Was it anger or disappointment? Both, Uien thought, were likely and deserved.

"If it is your will that I remain here, with my false promises and claims, you have but to say it. I will understand." Those last three words were the hardest of all to say. All she had in the world was the truth of her word, and she had failed the man she loved on that count. The prospect that Falowik would decide to take a different road that lead away from her was real and frightening. How could he place any faith in her and anything she had said?

Uien fell silent as she fought herself for control. The urge to ask him to smile upon her once more, beg him, was strong and she would shame him if she gave it voice now. Still, she could not disguise the tremor of her shoulders nor the gleam of tears unshed. Each moment of silence was like a bell tolling mournfully. Behind Falowik the afternoon light cast a golden gleam around his silhouette.

Uien remained as she was, skirts pooled around her in the straw as she gazed up at him with longing clear in her face. She hoped against hope, as ever was her wont, that somehow there was a way past her failure to find that road so bright that she wished to walk with him. Yet both the distance in his eyes within the commonroom and his silence hinted that already the road was lost and forever would she recall it's bright beckonning, paved with moments of lightness floating, laughter and a love unblemished by the woes of this world.

Oh Laurëatan, her mind sang wistfully as she gazed up at him. In that moment, her heart's longings were writ clear upon her face and all her spirit waited to reach for him across the chasm of her failure. Twilight was coming...

[Phervasaion]

The evening was beautiful and Phervasaion decided to make his way down to the green dragon after exploring the woods around it, as he did every time he came to the shire. Being a Ranger, he knew all about the wildlife and the animals in it and loved being with them.

He opened the old doors to the Green Dragon and, as usual, it was absolutly packed. He made his way to the bar noticing there was a new barmaid there since last time he came. Phervasaion was not a very talkative person but extremely polite.

"Good day," he said "one pint of ale please." After the barmaid gave him his pint he went to his usual place and sat down. He looked round the room with his keen eyes to see if he could recognise any old faces. He didnt see anyone he knew but noticed a man at the bar who seemed realy lonely except the man reminded Phervasion of the Ranger kind like himself but wasnt sure if he was one.

Phervasaion climbed out of his seat to greet this man.

"Hello friend, fine evening isnt it," Phervasaion said as he got to the bar.

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik gazed at Uien as she confessed her failure to find members for the search party. He was at a loss as she offered to let him choose whether she would come with him or remain behind. Tears came to her eyes but were unshed, and she trembled. He wondered what had made her say such words! They had parted speaking their love to each other, and now she offered to let him walk out of her life! They had just been in each other's company for no more than a few minutes. He wondered what had happened to her while he was away.

"Has someone said or done something ill to you while I've been gone?"

She shook her head, looking at the ground a moment, then meeting his gaze. "I did not keep my promise to you and found just one other to join us. That is all."

"You have done no worse than I."

His words fell flat, little comfort to her, it seemed, for her face did not change. A new thought came to him: that was not all. She was reading him and responding to what she thought must be in him. She did not know that he held himself so straightly because his need for her sang too boldly inside him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her tears away, to hold her and make the troubles of the world go away; at least for a brief moment. He could not allow himself to show his love for her; he had chosen to allow himself something. He tried to put that into words.

"Uien, Star Lady, you are a lodestone to me. No matter where I am, you will be at the heart of my world. It is not my place to tell you 'go there' or 'come here', for you are Lady and I am servant." The thought struck him as true and right, and in a motion he dropped to one knee before her, took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. "I adore you and am not worthy of you. Tell me how I may serve you."

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Lumiel]

A few last rays of warmth fell on Lumiel's fair face as she walked along the pleasant road in the Shire, not far from the Green Dragon. Off in the distance she could hear the laughter and gaiety of several young hobbits romping through the fields, finishing their honest-everyday work and now ready for play. She smiled as she listened and glanced upward to the sky which appeared in a myriad of twilight colors: deep, velvety blue, coppery orange, tawny yellow and a few pastel pinks and purples amongs the patches between the bright green leaves in the trees.

Her long brown hair was pulled back into a loose braid and her sleeves were rolled up, her cloak not present at the moment as the weather was more than temperate enough having not yet cooled from the day's heat. A child's song came unbidden to her mind and she hummed it as she began to skip lightly since she did not remember the words. The birds called clearly to one another in a rush of sounds as though trying to hurry any last messages before night claimed the land, and in her mind, they called to Lumiel as well.

After a second repetition of the simple rhyme, she realized that she had come in sight of the Green Dragon. On a whim, she decided to go inside for a drink, since she had little else to do. As she made her way forward, she saw out of the corner of her eye movement in the half-shadows of the stables. She turned to see Uien and a man, deep in conversation. Uien appeared on the verge of tears and a sudden tug pulled at Lumiel's heart, wishing to cure whatever ailed the elven woman. She turned her focus to the man and guessed that it was likely to be Falowik. Her glance hovered a moment on his features, seeing him for the first time.

At that moment he went to his knees and kissed Uien's hand, and in her mind the connection between Uien and Falowik clicked. She blushed to see the two together, knowing that it was not meant to be seen. She had no intention of telling anyone, especially since she knew very few here besides Uien herself with whom she felt a strange kinship, though she knew not if it was reciprocated.

She quickly turned her eyes away and hurried into the Inn, not wanting to intrude anymore, be it intended or not. She strode up to the counter and asked for a cider, giving a few coins to the servant in return. She found an empty table in a corner and took a seat, looking around the room.

Lifting the glass to her lips, she drank deeply, enjoying the sweet taste. She licked her lips in an almost dainty manner and smiled her approval of the drink. Crossing her legs, she sat back to relax. As she did so, she felt some part of her shirt catch onto the chair. She used one hand to try and adjust it, but to no avail. After a few more failed tries, she decided to stand so she could turn and see it better.

Although Lumiel was an elf, she had her random moments of absolute and total obliviousness and clumsiness: this was one of them. As she stood with her glass in hand, her legs became entangled with those of the chair and of the table. Her free arm waved rather comically as she tried to regain her balance. She wobbled a moment before twisting and falling to the floor, landing on her behind in a rather ungraceful manner. As she went, the glass left her grasp and made a flight through the air like that of a laden swallow (suffice it to be a European swallow) and plunged to the ground, soaking her with the cider she been enjoying only a moment before. Luckily, the glass itself did not break.

Lumiel blinked a few times as she wiped cider from her face, where it was already becoming sticky where stray hairs were plastered to her face. Looking herself over, she saw that she had doused most of her head and shirt, with a few dark spots on her pants. Realizing fully now the situation, she broke out laughing. It rang clearly through the Inn and was that of an innocent young maid, acting more the part of a girl than anything else.

Her laughter continued, and between her gasps for air, she managed to call the server to her and she asked, "I think - Ha Ha Ha Ha! - I need - snicker - a refill please!" and went on giggling to herself, receiving more than a few stares in the process, not that her previous performance a moment before hadn't attained for her a few looks as well.

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: Lumiel ]

[Larien Lindorenan]

Elentari sat with a man and a women in the corner of the inn. Nedieth gulped and walked over to her.

" My lord and ladies. Forgive me for interrupting, but you seem to be from Eryn Lasgalen. I am Nedieth and that was my original home. I was wondering if you had any news," Nedieth said timidly.

[Imladris]

I listened quietly to Soronume and Elentari converse and wondered what he looked like. Was he man, or elf? Turning to the window, I felt along the smooth glass until I found the latch, then, fumbling a little as I struggled to release it, I pushed the window open. I leaned my head on the sill, my elbows hanging out slightly, and breathed deeply. The musty scent of the wood tickled my nostrils, the faint scent of wildflowers hovered near; I could feel the pattern of the wood against my finger-tips, something crept steadily upon my arm, tickling me as it tiptoed along. The evening was utterly still, peaceful, and calm. I wanted to run, tumble around in the grass and lay still, feeling the grass prickle my back and to listen to the crickets strum. I could hear them still, but only faintly from within the inn.

I wanted to read again, to read the flowing, powerful scripts of Gondor. What I would give to play the tales and lays of generations past upon my lyre again. I clutched convulsively at the wooden sill at the memories…the memories of the loom long forsaken, of the spinning wheel as it made unruly wool into fine thread, the herbs that made the sick well again and cured the wounds of soldiers, of the fire that danced, shedding its lurid light upon the walls, creating fantastic shadows that flickered and jumped ominously.
Flashes of pain came suddenly to my eyes: they were common, but the pain did not grow less. Ever since that day in Gondor, these spells have come to me: maybe my eyes were injured, and this pain was fruit of that injury. My head throbbed, my eyes flamed, and I groaned softly, glad that no one could here. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would come to me and drive the pain away. I dimly remembered that I needed to get a room…

A voice entered into my dreamy thoughts that asked, “" My lord and ladies. Forgive me for interrupting, but you seem to be from Eryn Lasgalen. I am Nedieth and that was my original home. I was wondering if you had any news?" I almost laughed out loud, but managed to stifle it into a snicker. Me, a lady? I wondered if it was a compliment or a sarcastic insult. Certainly Elentari and maybe Soronume, but not me. I was a peasant, a lay girl of Gondor, barely eighteen. I smiled a little and thought the elf sounded rather timid. It must have been a compliment. Turning in her general direction, I smiled at her.

[Elora]

An incongruous sight they must have been, kneeling in the straw and pressed dirt of the stable beneath the bundled herbs that hung from an overhead beam. It was as though they had fallen from that present into a golden ray of afternoon sunlight. Falowik's lips brushed against her fingers lightly and her eyes drifted shut at the sensation as he spoke.

When they opened again, Falowik found them filled with many things that words could not give shape to. She made no move to withdraw her hand. Instead, Uien leaned closer. The fingers of her other hand trailed along Falowik's jaw. A heart such as his is beyond servitude, she thought.

"If you would serve, then serve your heart, my love. For from it comes that which sets you apart to shine as you do. Trust to it, for I do." Her voice was a murmur. Her hand fell to press over his chest, over his heart. She could feel its living beat through her fingers and palm. Uien smiled gently at that.

"Your heart do I serve, such is my choice Falowik Laurëatan." The words seemed to well up from within her as her thoughts spiralled with her spirit. She wondered if he knew how near she was to pulling him into her arms before the night parted them once more for a time. Perhaps he does.

[littlemanpoet]

"Would that I could serve my heart, Lady." He did not stop her from touching him, though he knew he should, for it defeated his purpose. She had laid her hand against his chest, making him aware of his heartbeat. It brought to mind words he had exchanged with the Master of Buckland.

"Uien, this heart you feel beneath your hand will stop beating in a few short years, and then you will be left alone, living for years and years, heartbroken, I fear. Master Brandybuck told me a tale I had never heard, of Beren and Luthien." Recognition shown in Uien's eyes. Emotions rippled across her face, bitter joy and sweet sorrow, and a brow written with doubt. "Ah. You know it, of course. Would you go to the Halls of Mandos and beg a boon for us? It cannot be done, for I am no Beren, and Luthien was like none other, though you would be Luthien enough for me, could such a thing be. But you know better than I what dire things have come from the union of Man and Elf. Would you deny your deathlessness for me? Could you? I would not have you do so. I can serve you in all ways but one, Lady. I can adore you, worship you, serve your every need and whim, and bring you all the joy I may, but I cannot-"

Falowik's throat caught, and in that instant knew that what he could not say he could not do, for saying I cannot love you was not possible.

"I - I can, and do-" he paused yet again and swallowed, then resumed "-and do love you, Lady, but-" the words were hard to find "-we cannot be-" Scree and slush! This is hard! "-I must not husband you." He looked into her eyes. "I am sorry."

Falowik rose, wondering whether he had too much or not enough. Uien's heart was in her eyes as she watched Falowik bow, bid her farewell, kiss her hand one last time, and leave her standing in the stables; she had the presence of mind to give him the herbs she had prepared.

Falowik returned to the Inn and prevailed upon Gorby and Doderic to leave before dusk overcame. With much grumbling they did as he asked. Before the last hint of the sun had slipped from the sky, the horse and two ponies were headed east toward Bree.

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Nerindel]

Taurëwen felt her cheeks warm as Reyn gently brushed the lock of hair that had fallen across her face aside, then she followed him as he led the way towards a friendly looking woman, a Daughter of the horse masters he whispered as they neared. But just as they reached the table and before they could she the Rohirrim woman stood up and headed for the kitchen.

"Excuse me Miss Aman!" Reyn called after her. The woman stopped and turned towards them, her friendly smile adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the inn. "We are sorry to keep you from your tasks," Taurëwen smiled seeing the dishes in the innkeepers hands. "No think not of it" the innkeeper answered, placing the dishes on the counter of the bar and wiping her hands on her apron. "What may I do for you?" she smiled

"My Love fears that if she waits any longer there will be no rooms left to be had!" Reyn laughed indicating the fast filling common room, "Ah, yes, their does seem to be a good many of our kin here this evening and more besides," she smiled hoping that she wouldn't have to spend another night under the stars, not that she minded really, watching the stars as they winked in and out sent on in to a calm and restful slumber, but the rain from the morning had looked like it might return ere nightfall.

"I'm sure we can find something, not all those here tonight are spending the night," she smiled reassuringly. They watched the innkeeper as she reached across the counter and pulled out a large book and a dark ink pot, a large green quill lay across the book. Aman carefully opened it and laid it on the counter, "If you just sign here, I will see to a room for you." Aman said indicating the next empty line on the guestbook.

"Thank you." Taurëwen smiled nodding her head graciously. Then picking up the quill she neatly added her name to the list of guests staying at the Green Dragon inn.

[Gorothlammothiel]

"What brings me to the Shire?" Soronume repeated the question from Elentari and smiled at her, "is it so odd that an elf should be in the Shire Elentari?" Elentari laughed, "well, perhaps not so odd when they are out of a job".

"Out of a job? Perhaps, but you are a mentor now, are you not." Soronume smiled at the maiden. "Forgive me, I have not introduced myself properly, the lady Elentari gave but a brief introduction. Finduilas, was it not? I am Soronume, an old friend of your mentor here. We travelled together, with others, on a quest, now quite some time ago and although I had heard of her since, I have not had the pleasure of talking to Elentari since that quest culminated."

Finduilas seemed to accept this introduction but remained quiet and did not make eye contact with Soronume. She did however look upon him. She now knew he was an elf, but his appearance seemed to suggest otherwise. He was clothed in worn, earthy shades and a dark cloak hung about his shoulders. His hair was dark and hung about his chin, his eyes deep and dark.

"Soronume, you have not yet answered my question" Elentari smiled. He thought for a moment about his answer, then quietly spoke.

"I must confess, I am rather a regular here now. To the warmth of the inn anyway, I have ventured but twice into the land around. This inn is where I was first before your company befriended Eruwen and myself." Soronume paused and raised his drink to his mouth. Slowly he placed it back down on the table.

[Elora]

Uien remained in the stables for some time, her thoughts and heart wildly whirrling around her with Falowik's words. "I cannot husband you." Of course he couldn't. She well knew why that was. The Master of Buckland knew perhaps as much of this as any could expect of a Hobbit, maybe more. She would travel anywhere to win even a brief life with Falowik. Be it the Halls of Mandos or even the pits beneath Caradhras. Yes, even there and she knew what was in such dark places for she had been there before.

Uien stood, staring at the hand that had rested over Falowik's heart and for an instant it was caked in dirt and blood, her own. That was why he could not husband her. For all she could bring was the stain of her past, the shadow of that torment, and Falowik was owed much more. Uien blinked and her hand as it was now reappeared. It shook lightly.

No, she could not bind Falowik to that. She could not change her past nor expunge the shame of the orc pits any more than she could change the course of her heart. It had chosen. Husband or no, its choice was made. So, she would love still, as strongly as her very soul demanded she would, this man. Her years would be as brief as his, husband or no, in that choice. The Master of Buckland could not know that Luthien's choice was made long before her father struck that fateful bargain with Beren.

It was a bittersweet accord that Uien came to. To love but not to bind. To shelter him in her heart always but never to reach for what she could not have. She understood and had known ever since she first stepped away from the Dwarves those years ago. She was fortunate beyond her measure to even know this love. She would not squander it by grasping for more than was to be hers.

When Uien emerged from the stables, she walked slowly with a face grave and pale. It would not be an easy road, the one she had taken in her chosing. Still, she was resolved and her will was something that had always run strong within her. Perhaps, in time, whilst she could not cleanse herself of her past she could find a different way to be something befitting of Falowik.

It was a hope that carried Uien back into the commonroom and to a table in a quiet corner. She sat, head bowed for a long while. Then, she took out a partially begun carving of a mallorn flower and took up again. Her skirts gathered the shavings and chips of wood and the carving gathered the instensity of what eddied within her.

[Beruthiel]

Lavender Took followed the muddy old track towards the Green Dragon. Her long dress was dragging on the floor and she cursed when she saw the lovely lace edging coming undone. She picked up her skirts off the ground, checking that no one was there to see of course and continued on the path. The youngish hobbitlass (as she said whenever anyone asked her age) had curly brown hair which, given the chance could be very messy, but Lavender being who she was made sure every curl was kept in place by a well hidden pin. Her chestnut brown eyes were one of the few things Lavender like about her face though she severely detested her nose (and especially the tiny freckles which were visible when you were about one hand’s length from her face). Finally Lavender reached the door of the Green Dragon Inn, but before opening it she hurried to one of the windows to check her hair was in place, and then pushed open the door very timidly.

At first the Inn took her by surprise, rather than groups of drinking hobbits, Lavender saw just as many elves and men, maybe more. ‘Well, what IS the Shire coming to. Can’t even find a decent inn where there aren’t outsiders spreading gossip and all sorts. Oh deary me, look! Even the innkeeper is a foreigner. How atrocious!’ Shaking her head she headed towards the bar, hoping no one would notice her rather muddy lace trimmed skirts. ‘Dear me, what would Aunty Esmeralda say if she saw me here!’ (Aunt Esmeralda being a distant relation and nothing of an Aunt at all but Esmeralda had stayed with Lavender’s family so often she had finally moved in and ordered everyone to call her Aunt and it stuck that way).

Lavender approached the innkeeper and introduced herself.
“Hello, you must be the innkeeper. I’m Lavender Took and I think I’ll be staying for a few days. Do you have a spare room?”

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen had fallen asleep in the large tree by the Inn. Very odd for her falling asleep, she never fell asleep, perhaps it was something in the Shire some peacefulness that enveloped around you so you could sleep.

The sleep was needed no doubt she would barely have the opportunity to take advantage of it again; when she left this place, but in her mind she could not help but feel guilty. Perhaps she should have aided Uien with gathering up people to their cause,

it would not work she thought hazily, no doubt people seek peace and refuge here not fighting and adventure that could claim their lives. The thoughts were soon taken over by older memories of fire and hate and death.

You will not have your way with me, I know this all, you've shown me before why do you plague me? She screamed at her dreams.

She looked about her, Narkir dripping black and her own hands burning from the hot blood they were laced with. Ashes stuck to her eyelashes becoming thick and wet, she tried to wipe them away but the blood got into her eyes then. It blinded her only for a moment the tears took care of that; if only I could save them all, she stood alone along the burning corpses and mass hysteria sundered from her Kin by flames and orcs. And so it was she knew of no one that survived, some did survive but she never saw them and they never saw her thinking her dead and they lament always for her, especially Calan, who loved her dearly.

[Larien Lindorenan]

Nedieth smiled back at Finduilas while Soronume and Elentari finished their conversation. Then she realized the girl was blind. That made her even more shy.

" Hello, maiden," she said. " You seem to be...uh...Gondorian? What is your name?"

[Witch_Queen]

Smani walked into the inn. She looked around to see so many strangers around. After her long journey she decided it was time to rest her tired legs and see what was occuring in the small village.
"Greetings all. The name is Smani and I come from Eryn Lasgalen."

So many people she thought to herself, I hope they aren't the type to run off travelers like me. She decided to pull up a chair and listen to what stories might be exciting to her ears. But now her throat was dry. What to do? I need to find something to drown my thirst.

[Witch_Queen]

Elves what would elves like these be here? This place isn't all to comforting but at least i'm not being questioned. Her green eyes seemed almost confused at the sight of the elves.

She decided to approach the elves. "Excuse me," she said "Anyone from the Eryn Lasgalen region of this world." Afraid that the elves might be from another place she decided to just set back down at the table and continue her rememberance of her fallen father.

Three years I've wondered without a companion. Three years its been since my father died. Now my travels bring me to this very friendly place. A tear almost came to her eyes while she was having her own little debate in her head. She couldn't hold the tear back. As it rolled down her cheek she just sat there in her own little world. The voice of her father screaming her name haunted her dreams. "Just go away!" she screamed. She looked up and heard only silence. Almost embaraced at the shout she decided it was no right. It will never leave me. I can never be left alone. My life will always be haunted with the constant memory. The silence didn't last long.

[Chathol-linn]

She opened the door and stepped out of the rainy dark.

She had traveled a long way and would travel longer still before sailing to Tol Eressea, where the Exiles now lived in peace with the Teleri. Hearing that Elves had gathered at the Shirefolk’s inn, she made her way there. If there were Elves and Hobbits, there would be Mortals too. Together they would make a congenial company for a solitary wayfarer.

She thought, It would be good to have company after so much solitude on the road.

Here it was. The Green Dragon Inn. The crowd-sound subsided as she made her way towards the bar. Pure Noldor, she was, with the great height, black hair, grey eyes, and facial bones to prove it. She saw Hobbits, Mortals, and many fair Elves. Sindar, no doubt , she thought.

“Greetings!” she said to the Mortal Woman who stood behind the bar. “Am I speaking with the proprietor of the Green Dragon?”

When the woman nodded and asked her name, she said, “Call me Huntress.” And indeed she looked the part. She was dressed, top to toe, in clothes made from the hide of the small red deer, native to the eastern forests. Her tunic and breeches fit easily and carried fringe at the sleeves and seams. Her black hair was wild and beautiful against the russet color, and it tangled around the quiver and bow on her back.

“That has been my name since I came, many long-years ago, to the House of Thranduil in Greenwood the Great. How you stare! Yes, I have lived from the Second Age to this the Fourth and seen the Great Greenwood pass through mirky shadows to the Eryn Lasgalen of today.”

The Inn’s owner seemed almost Elvish herself in her ability to anticipate a guest’s request. Huntress accepted a pottery mug of humming brown ale. She raised it first to the Inn lady and then to the gathered folk. And to their amusement, she began to sing:

By the banks of Bywater, where the water meets the road,
The Drag On Inn drags travelers in, to rest their weary loads.
The Mistress keeps a tavern there with drink so stout and strong,
The clientele all yell for ale and bellow drinking songs!

“Are you a bard, Huntress?” inquired the Inn lady, laughing. “You may call me Aman.”

“No, Aman” replied Huntress, “but I am married to Galadel, Thranduil’s minstrel to this very day. And I was the traveling companion of an Elf in whom the Teleri blood was pure, and you know no one in Arda sings like a Sea-Elf. She came with me to the House of Thranduil and we stayed there a long time. Her amilessi tercenyë [mother-name of insight] was ... Quill and she became Bard of the Elves of Mirkwood in those dark times.

Huntress’s face grew sad. “She and my husband taught me what minstrelsy I know.”

‘Why did you look sad?” asked Aman.

“When I think of my old companion, I am reminded of her unwitting part in the tragedy that befell Thranduil. But that is no story for so merry a gathering. And now, Mistress Aman, I must tell you – I have no coin to pay for this good drink.”

The smile was back on Huntress’s face. Her grey eyes twinkled like wood ash mixed with ice crystals. “Must you call for the constable?” she inquired.

[ October 24, 2003: Message edited by: Chathol-linn ]

[OniGene]

The traveller moved toward the hall, glancing back toward the female he had bumped into, making sure she wasn't looking at him. To his great surprise, she was not an elf as he had previously thought, but a human! How could he have mistaken her as one so easily?

Not knowing her name, and at the moment, not caring, he did not speak aloud to her...or to anyone else for that matter. His boots clanked along the floorboards, kicking off cakes of hardening mud. He reached his room (what he hoped to be it) and turned the knob. Before stepping in, however, he looked back into the diner and made sure that he was there or not. Seeing that he had not arrived, the traveller stepped into his room for a night's rest, closing the door behind him with a slam.

[Everdawn]

Outside the Inn, another visitor trudged along the dusty little hobbit road. It was a young woman, and she carried with her a small bag and a folio from which the appearance of several pages and pieces of canvas were escaping from their fixtures. Still the woman strode along, oblivious to everything but the colours of the darkening sky. Suddenly she stopped right in the middle of the road outside the Inn and dropped everything she was carrying to shade her face as she looked at an interesting cloud formation, light lightly by the disappearing light.

“Stunning” she muttered to herself as her hazel eyes squinted to seek out more shapes. Then form inside the Inn came two hobbits, one slightly drunk swayed right into the poor girl after tripping on all her scattered belongings. Exasperated, she tore her sun-hat (though it was now dark) form her head revealing a thick mane of burgundy hair. “Soooory’s we are madam.” The hobbit slurred before walking off, The girl watched him for a while before replying “..And a good evening to you fellow…” she was now aware of the presence of a messenger boy waiting on the road in front of her. “Well then?” she asked him bluntly. The messenger just looked at her, his horse grunting impatiently. “Your things are in the way.” He replied coolly. “Who says they are my things? I could just be standing in the road next to them, or minding them, take it how you will.” she though it stupid of him to make assumptions.

“Well, im just guessing, since the residents of the shire are mainly hobbits, and you are at least to tall to be a hobbit… and those bags are too big for a hobbit to manage, im thinking they belong to you.” The messenger frowned. “Well, your horse can jump cant he?” she enquired. “Couldn’t it just simply jump over them?” The messenger dismounted. “Not if I have to deliver this to the Green Dragon.”
“The Green Dragon?” she asked even though she was standing right under the sign. The messenger pointed to the sign above her head. “Oh, I see” she muttered. “The Green Dragon what though?” it puzzling her each second she stared at it. “Inn” the messenger said. “Who is the message for?” she asked, the man grumbled. “A Miss Sírabel Delone.”

The girl jumped in surprise. “That’s me! Unless there is someone here with that very same name!” she though for a second. “Highly unlikely…” The messenger handed her the envelope and rode away. Sírabel hastily picked up her things and walked in the door of the Inn. What met her was astounding, elves, hobbits, dwarves and people. “Well that is in the most, the most interesting thing I have seen or heard since I learned that Strider was a king! Fancy that! Strider, a king! I shan’t believe it until I see it!” she said looking around once more. Finding an empty spot at the bar she sat herself down and tapped her knees until she remembered the letter that was given to her by the messenger.

“Sírabel,
You sister has given birth to a daughter,Though we did not name her Dragon or Entey or any of the other dozens of strange names you suggested, she is called Sírawen after her mother.
Your Brother-in-law
Laon.”
“I thought Entey was a lovely name… a darn sight better than Sírawen ill say!.. Let my painting expedition go well indeed! Ill let them have it this once…” she frowned seriously. She tapped her fingers before feeling thirsty. She leaned over the bar to find whatever hobbit may be servicing it. “Hello down there!” she called but to no avail, the run was empty. “Oh Dear!” she sighed tapping the bench top with her fingernails.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Elentari smiled as Finduilas began to converse with Nedieth, who she had seen once or twice in the Wood of Green Leaves, but had never spoken to. Finduilas was making new friends, leaving Elentari to talk to an old friend.

“So you are a regular at the Dragon then?” laughed Elentari. “It seems so long ago that you and Eruwen came across our company at the borders of Eryn Lasgalen and joined us on that ominous quest.”

“Yes,” replied Soronume. “But that quest could not have been anywhere near as ominous as other ones you have been on.”

“No. It does not come close to when I lead my own mission to the Blue Mountains. A great dragon lived in a cave there, kidnapping elves from Eryn Lasgalen and dwarves from the Iron Hills to use as slaves.”

“Why did he need slaves?”

“To stoke a fire, mine precious metals from deep in the caves, and then create armour to cover the only place in his scales where a brave warrior could penetrate them, stabbing his cold heart. If it were not for a brave dwarf, whom I admire for his selflessness, then the great Wyrm may not have been defeated. Many died, but they live forever in the words of a song I sang as I returned home.”

“A song?” asked Nedieth. “Will you please sing it for us?”

“Yes,” said Finduilas, “sing it Elentari. I’m sure you have a most beautiful singing voice! I have never heard an elf sing.”

“Well,” said Soronume. “It looks as if you must sing now, Elentari. All three of us want to hear you sing!”

Elentari sighed. It was a long time since she had sung the song, for it contained memories of terrible events. Yet the memory of her friends who had perished must be kept alive, so the elf stood an began to sing:

“ Once, I fought a great beast of old,
But I returned safely, though my friends did not.
And yet again, I find I've fought,
A great Wyrm from who knows where.
And yet again I've survived,
Though not all my friends have.

I mourn the loss,
Of my dear friends.
I can only blame myself,
But yet I did all I could,
Even Elbereth could not help them,
But their deaths were not in vain.

Nalin, Alcyávëiel, Selvren, Merenwen, Callo,
You gave your lives for your friends,
And you'll stay in our hearts,
Till the end of our days and forever more.

I know I will one day face another,
My destiny is to free these lands from pain,
But when will I stop wandering these lands,
And join my loved ones in the Havens to the west?
Maybe one day I'll find my place,
And go there to be at peace.

Hear my words, O you things of the night,
I'll find where you are and hunt you down.
I'm not afraid to face the call,
That draws me and leads me to you.

Hear my words, O free peoples,
Do not fear what lies ahead,
You must learn to face the truth,
And accept it with open arms.

Elbereth, O Star Queen,
I thank you now.
You've watched over me,
And have saved me once more”

There was hush in the inn, as all turned to listen to the song. As Elentari finished, loud clapping started and many people shouted compliments to the elf, who blushed slightly and sat down.

“That was beautiful,” said Finduilas. She paused for a moment. “Would you teach me it, someday?”

“Of course,” replied Elentari. “And many other songs too. I can tell from you speaking voice that you have an excellent singing voice.”

Finduilas smiled as she lost herself in memories of singing while working when she was younger. She soon continued her conversation with Nedieth.

Elentari sat for a while in silence, and Soronume was about to ask her why she ha suddenly gone quiet when she suddenly rose from the table and walked over to an elf who sat alone.

“Greetings, Smani.” Elentari surprised the elf by knowing her name.

“How do you know my name?” Smani asked.

“You introduced yourself to those elves over there a moment ago,” Elentari said as she pointed to a group of elves. “But I have seen you in Eryn Lasgalen before. Will you join my companions and I?”

“Certainly,” said Smani politely, following Elentari back to the table where the others sat.

Elentari introduced Smani to the others who sat at the table. They talked for some time, but after a while Smani became quiet.

“Something troubles you,” said Elentari to Smani, almost in a whisper so only Smani could hear. “Do not let the past haunt you. Share your troubles with me. It often eases the pain, sharing your past with another, so that they may help you and cry with you, for I saw the tear role down your cheek.”

[Nerindel]

Taurëwen turned pulled by the melodic tones of elven song, it silenced the room entirely, but as the elf sang of a mission in which her foe was vanquished and friends lost, she felt warm wet tears roll down her cheeks as the memories of their own mission came flooding back to her mind, the dark tower on Amon lanc had haunted her dreams relentlessly until the day it was thrown down.

But the faces of Airelóme, Gilbereth, Ainemention, her own brother and those they were forced to leave behind burned in her mind, if she could she would have given her own life to save them all.

The aloud applause brought her out of her dark thoughts, she had always felt guilty in the feelings she had for Reynion during their imprisonment under that dark tower, she shuddered slightly as if a chill ran down her back and as she looked at the tall elf her face was suddenly familiar, "Spyder Slayer!" she whispered recalling the elven warrior from her home, like all warriors they often found their way to her hall, but she recalled that the elf would refuse healing till her fellows were tended.

She looked at the woman, her deeds where noted in a great many songs, but Taurëwen healer of the fair woods of Eryn Lasgalen found her self envying the warrior her strength of mind, Those had been sad times and Taurewen having lost much in that fateful mission had thrown herself into the protection and healing of the wood, killing their enemies with a ferocity that none would believe possible of the gentle natured elf.

The large spiders of the woods fared the worst by her sword, she blamed them for the fracture in her heart, if not for them she would not be alone, but each one killed by her sword brought her no comfort and even the new trees and plants that she planted to replace those damaged or torn down by the foul creatures of the dark tower did nothing but distract her from thoughts of her loss.

But with things well again her pain and emptiness had returned, but turning back to Reynion she smiled, but perhaps it was a time for healing for all she thought hopefully, she had found the one for who her heart had yearned and she had found another who had needed her help, they will be here soon she thought, but as she looked at Reynion she saw his brow was creased with concern and unspoken question played on his lips.

What is it? she urged gently.....

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Taurewen gave Reyn a glance that told him that he hadn't been hiding his confusion very well. So, he did the most obvious thing, and asked, "Taurewen, can we go up to my room? I need to ask you something."

She acquiesced, and they climbed the stairs to the room in which he was staying. It was a very plain room, and it didn't look like someone had been staying there for some days. Nothing of his personality was visible. One almost could think that he had only just gotten the room, which was not true. Reyn suddenly felt rather uneasy, afraid to ask his question for fear of her answer.

They stood in the room for a moment in silence, then Taurewen gently prompted, "What is it, beloved?"

Reyn ran his hands through his hair, trying to think how best to phrase it. Or if he should just forget the whole thing, which wasn't really an option. He had to know.

"Taurewen, I, well, I've wondered this since you arrived the first time, and--" he broke off embarrassedly. He shook his head, and started again. "Why me? I'm not wise, even if elves are supposed to be, I'm not brave, I've only one leg, I left you without a word, I'm a drunk. Why did you choose me out of all the elves in Middle-Earth?"

He shrugged. "I know why I love you. You're beautiful and wise and wonderful and kind and giving. I'm none of those things." He added, trying rather unsuccessfully to lighten his tone, "Especially not beautiful."

[piosenniel]

ATTENTION: ALL ELVES

RE: MIRKWOOD

Mirkwood is no longer called Mirkwood at this time.

At present, the Green Dragon Inn is in the 4th Age - year 12 (many years after the War of the Ring – ended 3rd Age 3019; 4th Age began at the end of 3021 of the 3rd Age.).

In 3019 of the 3rd Age, Mirkwood was cleansed. It was renamed by Celeborn and Thranduil - 'Eryn Lasgalen'- the Wood of Green Leaves. It has been called that name now for about 14 years.

It is a name reminiscent of the Forest's original name, Greenwood the Great, before the shadow of Sauron as the Necromancer fell over it from Dol Guldur (about 3rd Age 1050).

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen woke as her neck jerked forward, she still sat up in the tree. Must be on my way, there is a great need of haste things must be seen to.

She jumped out of the tree, with an effortless landing in the dry dirt; and continued to make her way over to the Inn with the intention of finding the Innkeeper Aman and paying for her stay. 'Aman', she called from across the counter 'your Inn has great hospitality, but I must be taking my leave now, perhaps I shall return after what needs to be done is done.

'There is a journey ahead of me, I can say no more, here is my pay in full' she placed the gold and silver coins in front of her on the counter with a smile, she could see a slight sadness in Aman's eyes seeing another Fair One just walk away, to who know's where.

Esgallhugwen went into the stable to ready her horse, strapping the saddle bags onto the blanket, she sprang on top of Morsereg's back. Speeding down the dirt road, clad in her green cloak with bow strung to her back and sword at her side.

Namarie for now!

[OniGene]

SAVE for edited post

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Another elf gone...Middle Earth is losing the First Born so fast... Looking away from 'Huntress', Aman smiled after Esgalhugwen as she left through the Inn door, taking the same path that Aman had seen many take since she came, never to return. Sighing, she looked back to another of the fair folk, the bard's wife, who was presenting rather a problem in front of her.

Aman raised an eyebrow at the woman who called herself 'Huntress', seeing the woman's eyes twinkle rogueishly.

"No coin to pay, hmm?" Aman fixed the woman with a steady look, and even this mischievious looking elf squirmed slightly, then patted where pockets might be on her trousers before smiling ruefully.

"I jest not, Aman. I...I haven't been to an Inn for a while." A faraway look came into Huntress's eyes once more, and Aman saw the familiar echoes of memory and regret come into them. Familiar because in the the time she had been at the Inn, she had seen so many with the same melancholy looks. Why was it such a simple, hobbit Inn came to attract so many who at the same time wished to and dreaded forgetting their pasts. Maybe it was simply the fact it was a simple hobbit Inn, so set apart from the outside world...

The Innkeeper shook herself out of her reverie and at the same time the Huntress did the same, and set on Aman a gaze of her own, silently inquiring. The Innkeeper smiled quite as mysteriously as the elf had done before, not referring to what she herself had been thinking of. "No money to pay...dear me, now I could throw you out into the road..."

A gasp rose from the onlookers around, some in earnest, some mocking, knowing full well that this Innkeeper would do nothing of the sort.

"..., leave you to wander to Bree and try to take in Butterbur..."

Some of the little gullible hobbits were looking a little worried now. Who knew how the ways of the Big Folk worked...? But Huntress still watched her, her eyes twinkling with silent laughter, the hint of a smile at her lips.

Aman paused, then smiled suddenly. "Or we could ask for a little help around this evening and tomorrow...and a song? What do you say?"

The elf threw back her head a laughed, her curls bouncing around her shoulders, before she looked the Innkeeper in the eye. "Ah, now I ask myself would I rather be thrown out in the street!" She smiled. "With pleasure, Aman. But let a girl finish her drink?"

The Innkeeper nodded her consent, returning the smile, then turned to another who had come to the bar, a man whose name she did not know but who she recognised from the night before, and if it wasn't the evening, she would suspect he had only just woken up...

"Innkeeper, I would like whatever is served best here, I dont care what it is...just as long as it is steaming and good."

"Good? This is the Dragon, sir, would it be anything else?" Aman smiled with both her lips and eyes. The elf man rolled his eyes, hitting his forehead lightly with his palm.

"My mistake, Aman, I'm sure!"

The Innkeeper returned his smile, and inclined her head. "I'll see what I can do. A drink in the meantime?"

He consented, and Aman fixed him that part of the order, before raising her eyebrows once more at Huntress and murmuring 'a performance, yes?', and slipping away into the kitchen

~*~

OCC: Nowhere near enough, I know, considering my absense. I am terribly sorry for my absense of late, I've been very busy with various events with school, and I regret to say I'll be away for another week. Play my character how you will, within reason, and I will be back with you next Sunday. Sorry again smilies/frown.gif

[Everdawn]

Sírabel noticed with great anticipation the comings and goings of the hobbits and men and elves, to which Sírabel's hazel eyes widened greatly. Well that is quite astonishing, Elves... I wonder...she trailed off on a thought for a while before noticing the Innkeeper and an elf man and woman at the other end of the bar. Trying desperately to pretend that she was observing some of her previous work she tried to spy glances of the interesting creatures that were elves. Stuffing the drying piece of canvas into her folio again, she resolved to simply speak with them instead. Besides, one of them may allow her to paint them.

"No matter" said Sírabel to herself "I dont very much feel like painting tonight, at least no yet, i am very tired." she put her foilo away and found an empty set of seats which she emptied out her paper and pastels and began to draw before falling into the deep oblivion which was sleep.

[ October 30, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

[Geffen]

A small stretch of the arm away was Ahreknun, once again enjoying the overcrowded, paced atmosphere of the Dragon, however his ale held his attention more than the conversation that engulfed him. He sat in hope of being approached by anybody to guide him; "Strong and smart, yet lacking power and knowledge" as he was described by his father, Ahrenook.

Ahreknun was relaxed, yet uneasy, as he normally was in these somewhat unfamiliar situations, but every time his mind strayed from the surroundings, he reminded himself why he was here.

Ahreknun had visited the Green dagon only once before this past week, near 20 years previous, whilst still a boy, selflessly trying to discover the whereabouts of a rare stone, believed to have caused the disease which was blamed for the untimely death of his mother.

Turning to Aman and nodding, another brew was delivered to the bar where he sat. He pondered the worth of an early sleep, then disregarded his thoughts as he downed another pint, with eyes shut, and mind quickly giving way to his inebriated imaginings.

[piosenniel]

Please note:

It is still evening in the Shire and suppertime at the Inn.

Everyone who needs to get a post on for this evening/night in the Inn needs to do so before tomorrow real time, when I will move the time ahead to a new morning in the Shire.

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

The door of the Inn creaked on its hinges and opened slowly. There stood a hooded shadow on the doorstep. The shadow stepped over the threshold and placed his sword with a broad blade in the corner. There was a skillful engraving of a horse in the scabbard of his sword and when he took off his cloak, his curly golden hair hided his face.

This man sat down at one table near the corner and took out an old and ragged map. He stared the map carefully and shook his golden head.

A young woman, the innkeeper, had walked to this man quietly.
"Good evening. It is suppertime. Would you like to have something to eat, Mr...?", asked Aman.
The man looked up from his map to the woman and smiled.
"Gorbaus is my name and rather I would prefer a descent guide namely this old map has leaded me astray", he replied courteously. "Though an ale wouldn't hurt me", he added grinning.

He sat there alone sipping his ale and fingering at a silvery brooch that was made into the shape of a galloping horse.

[Primrose Bolger]

Rose and Buttercup were busy seeing to the needs of the other customers and getting dishes cleared away in between times. The Inn seemed unusually busy this evening. Big Folk, Fair Folk, and here and there a scattering of Hobbits. ‘I wonder if old Gaffer Proudfoot brewed his own barrels of ale this year,’ she thought to herself. ‘Could be that’s where all the Hobbits have got off to.’

Prim smiled as she thought of the times her Gaffer had brought her with him to Bywater, on some business for The Floating Log. They had always broght a load of Budgeford hops with them when it was in season – to bring to Gaffer Proudfoot. He like to experiment with his ale brewing, and Prim’s Gaffer like to taste the results of those experiments!

Prim got up and cleared away her own dishes to the kitchen, going so far as to wash them up and leave them to dry in the drainer. Mistress Piosenniel, it appeared, had gone off to her room with her babies she noted with a sigh. Then smiled recalling she would be here tomorrow still and she could see the twins again then.

At a nod of assent from Cook, she grabbed a mug of tea and went back out to the Common Room. A new fellow had come in. One of the Big Folk from the Mark as far as she could see. ‘Same place as Aman,’ she thought to herself, noting the horse-figured brooch he fingered idly. She had heard a story once from her Gaffer about the wonderful horses raised there and sometimes fantasized her own little pony Poppy had some of the Rohan horse spirit in her.

Plucking up her courage, Prim approached the blonde haired man as he sat cradling his half empty ale mug in his hand. ‘Begging your pardon, Sir, but would you like me to top that off?’ She cursed herself for forgetting her manners and dropped a small curtsy. ‘My name’s Prim . . . Primrose Bolger of Frogmorton.’ The firelight glinted off the silver brooch as he looked at her, an amused glint in his eyes. Prim hurried on. ‘I couldn’t help noticing your sword and brooch, Sir. Are you by any chance from Rohan?’

Well, there, she’d let curiosity get the better of her!

She craned her neck a little, inching forward to see what that map was he had on the table . . .

[piosenniel]

Pickings had been slim since the war ended. The battle fields made such lovely buffet for the black clouds of crows and ravens that frequented them. And now they had been tidied up and that high-minded King (and selfishly short sighted, in his opinion) who sat now in Gondor had put an end to most of the strife that offered the dark winged battle field followers their easy pickings.

Even the little, bright, gew-gaws that had fallen from the slain had been cleared away, which aggravated the crow no end.

There he sat, on his one remaining good leg, his beady black eye fixed on the Inn just up the short path through the greensward. A number of passersby, visitors to the Inn, had made their way beneath the tree he sat quietly in, unaware that he was cataloguing each and every pretty, shiny bauble that caught the long rays of the failing sunlight. Silvered buttons, and ribbons fluttering as people hurried by. Stones hung about necks on glittery chains and shiny brooches called out to him. His head was dizzy with the wealth of possibilities he had stumbled onto . . .

Camlost fluffed out his feathers, appearing much like a ragged black ball, as he gripped hard the slender branch with his left talons. He preened himself with his yellow beak, arranging each feather carefully into place, before settling down for the evening.

‘Tomorrow,’ he thought, ‘tomorrow, I’ll case the place.’

[Imladris]

“My name is Finduilas,” I said, answering the elf’s question with a smile. I was about to ask what brought the elf to Gondor when stabbing pain rushed to my eyes. It was worse than the last volley and I could not help but to cry out in pain. “What is Elentari doing?” I asked softly to the elf.

“Speaking with Smani,” she replied with concern.

“I need to get a room in the Inn, and rest,” I said. But I couldn’t do it alone. I would trip over ever possible thing that was in the slightest way, I would probably stumble over my own feet, and would certainly not be able to find Aman on my own. Cringing I said lowly, my eyes fixed on the table, “would you be so kind as to help me get a room?”

“Certainly.”

Taking a tattered and wrinkled piece of paper, I wrote in what I knew was an unsightly scrawl:

Elentari, have gone to get a room. Please come visit me when un-busied.”

I wasn’t sure if “un-busied” was a word, but it sounded better than “when you are through” and it took a lot less words to write. Leaving it on the table, where I hoped Elentari would see it, I groped for my staff and Nedieth, hand upon my arm, guided me to Aman. “She needs a room,” Nedieth explained.

Dropping my hand into a pocket, I fumbled for some coins which I knew would be ample enough to pay for a couple of nights in advance. Aman assigned me to a room (her voice sounded quite cheerful) and Nedieth, kind elf that she was, patiently crawled up the stairs and turned a sharp right.

Sprawling myself upon the bed, I asked, “Thank you for your kindness, Nedieth. What brings you to the Shire?” There was a pause, and I added, “If you would prefer to talk with other elves instead with a blind girl, please do not feel obligated to visit with me.” I hoped that didn’t sound like a hint for her to leave, but I didn’t want her to feel as if she ought to stay and talk with one such as I.

[Elora]

Since afternoon had faded into evening, Uien had unfurled yet three more petals of the blossom she was carving. So intent had she been on her work in a quiet corner, that the comings and goings of the inn had passed her by like the tide. Indeed, she had even missed twilight, a fact that Falco Boffin had noted from his own vantage in the common room. Comfortably nestled behind a pint of ale, he had observed Uien carve continuously, fingers deft with her humble belt knife, pausing only to blow a shaving of wood out of the way.

Falco collected himself and his ale from his vantage and crossed the room. He set his mug down on the table top with a hearty thump, causing Uien's head to rise sharply from her work and her hands to still as she determined the nature of the thump. When her gaze settled on Falco, she nodded cautiously and examined him.

"What are you carving," he asked curiously, peering into her hands. She reflexively closed them around her work and then consciously opened them again. Uien set the unfinished flower upon the table top, well away from the small puddle of beer that Falco had deposited there with his arrival.

"'Tis a mallorn flower," she said simply, not expecting the Hobbit to be familiar with it. Falco peered at it, taking it up to turn it about in his hands. Uien folded her belt knife way.

"A mal-lorrn flower," he repeated with careful ennunciation. "Never heard of such a thing."

"They are not common here, except mayhap, at Hobbiton in the gardens of Mayor Samwise Gamgee." It was common knowledge that the Lady had bestowed him with the gift of a mallorn tree when the Fellowship had departed Lothlórien, at least amongst those who had dwelled beneath the golden boughs at the time.

At her naming of the Mayor, Falco ceased his inspection of the carving at peered at her face.

"You know the Mayor?" Uien could understand the note of incredulity in his question. Elf though she was, she hardly appeared to be consorting in such lofty circles. She shook her head, hair swaying as she reclaimed the unfinished carving and stowed it in the pouch at her belt.

"I only know of him, Shirrif." Uien thought she detected a hint of relief in Falco's face. Falco relaxed once again, at his ease. For a moment there, he'd been terribly concerned that somehow he'd gotten off on the wrong foot with someone of import. That would mean his infallible judge of character was not so infallible, an inconceivable notion up until he thought Uien was possibly an associate of the Mayor the Shire. If she had mentioned Peregrin Took, Falco was sure he would have had a fit.

As it was, Uien seemed distracted as she glanced out of the window and noted the darkened sky.

"You will have to excuse me, Shirrif Boffin. It is well past the time I should have seen to the horses for the night and there is still much I need to prepare for departure in the morning."

Falco nodded graciously. "Yes, yes... mustn't delay. When and where shall we meet?" He was being generous, hoping Uien would appreciate his largess in allowing her to choose a time and place for departure to Bree. If she did, she made no show of her gratitude. Instead, and loftily so it seemed to Falco, she deemed a suitable arranagement.

"At sunrise, from the stables, would seem well enough. If you see Lumiel, will you tell her of this?" Falco nodded a little stiffly, put out at her presumption that he, a Shirrif, was also her personal messanger, and directed his attentions to his now much neglected ale.

Uien herself moved through the growing throng of people to reach the door, through which she passed into the growing night as she made for the day pastures to return horses to their stables for the evening. In the quieter evening, Uien's thoughts and emotions could no longer be forcussed and poured into a piece of wood beneath her knife and fingers. They marked her expression, and the horses were greeted by sadden elven grey eyes. Her song, which she sang to them, was muted and melancholy, yet sweet. Singing, head bowed and mind full, Uien walked back and forth between darkened pastures and the stables, transferring horses and ponies into their stalls and seeing to their feed and water for the evening.

[Angel_Queen]

She walked in her blue eyes not able to adjust to the change in color. So dark this place seemed to her. Then the sounds of everyone came to her. "Excuse me?",she said but nobody answered her.
She took herself over to the bar. Her black hair not fitting in with all the other elves she saw. There was groups of elves but why would they be so far away from home or were they leaving and never coming back. She worried that she to some day might have to take that voyage.
"Excuse me.",she said in a louder voice, "My name is Ravon." She glanced around to see if she could notice any familar faces when she saw one that might looked familar. Its not him she thought to herself.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Angel_Queen ]

[Esgallhugwen]

A large black shadow trotted cautiously up to the tree by the Inn, refusing to follow the dirt road that lay in front of him. His massive powerful legs ended with thick jet black claws, as sharp as daggers.

Although if you looked closely, he was no harm to anyone except field mice and other such creatures, hunting farm animals was far to risky for his count, you see that's how he lost half of his left ear. And going to close to orcs, trying to pick off the tiny ones wasn't to bright either (there was always a bigger one around), so now he has a bit of a limp.

Draug, the wolf, was not accustomed to being in populated areas; but he had heard of Hobbits and Elves up in the North by over- hearing the foul talk of the orcs. And curious to find things out for himself, he has grown prone to wondering about.

Draug sat on his haunches, picking up all the various scents from inside the Inn, and the horses, he loves to watch horses, there're not usually chased with pitch forks by angry farmers and they seem so graceful, he had been graceful once before the big orc broke his leg.

But that was over now, and after a long journey, he curled about the tree and decided to have a nap.

[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

Gorbaus turned his map around so Primrose was able to see it. The map had been worn into holes an the ink had soiled part of it but she could spot at least Bree and the Old Forest in the map.
"You are keen-eyed, my lady, for from Rohan I surely am", said Gorbaus "but it is too long from the last time I saw our beautiful lands. For I'm a messenger and long and lonely has my road been."

Gorbaus sighed like under a heavy burden and closed his eyes. Primrose stood there a while fighting against her curiosity but once again she plucked up her courage. "Sir...may I ask, what is your destination?"
Gorbaus opened his eyes and a little glint kindled when he answered. "I'm going to Mithlond, to the Grey Havens and then I'm finally free to go home."

[Primrose Bolger]

‘A messenger,’ thought Prim as she cautiously took the chair he offered. ‘And bound for the Grey Havens.’ Curious, she looked at him closely, wondering what message he could be delivering and to whom. She wanted to ask more questions of him, about his mission and who had sent him and why.

The questions were almost on her lips when she heard her mother’s oft counseled words to her. ‘Don’t be so bold, little honeybee!’ her mother would say laughingly. ‘The flowers will still be there for you to drink your fill tomorrow!’

Instead she admired his map, saying that it had got him this far so it must be good. Her gaffer loved maps and was fond of showing her all that he had collected. She moved her finger westward from Bywater and showed him where the edge of the Shire was. ‘And right over these hills, the Emyn Beraid, is Harlindon. It’s a short ride, then, to the Grey Havens from there.’ She chewed on her lower lip a bit, confessing, ‘Or so I’ve been told.’

She chatted on with him through a flagon of ale on his part and a mug of tea on hers. He mostly listened, his lips curved in a gentle smile, his eyes bright with amusement as she chattered on about her family and Frogmorton and the Inn there. At the end of her mug of tea, she began to yawn midway through her sentences.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she said stifling another yawn. ‘It was an early rise for me and a long day from The Floating Log to here. And here you’ve been so kind to me to let me go on jabbering like this at you. You’ve hardly gotten a word in edgewise!’ Another yawn punctuated this last sentence. ‘I think I’d better go off to my room now. Let’s meet tomorrow morning, Master Gorbaus. I promise to let you talk then!’

Prim got up from her chair and gave a little curtsy to the man. And a wave as she hurried off to the kitchen with her cup and then up to bed.

[piosenniel]

Nerindel's post - Taurëwen

Taurëwen silently followed Reynion up the stairs, not even noticing the soft steady clunk_clunk_clunk as his wooden leg met each step. All she could hear was the rhythmic pounding of her own heart drumming in her ears. What did he need to ask? she wondered, more than a little fearful of the answer.

The soft click of a door opening brought her attention back to Reynion, he was holding the door waiting for her to step inside. The room was bare of any sign that it was in use, the only sign that the room belonged to the male elf was the sword that stood on its own in a dark corner of the room, alone it seemed, almost as if it had been discarded without care.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she turned to face Reyn, the sharp bright grey eyes that she remembered where all but dulled, by bad memories and the fire that once burned within them doused by drink. But as she held his searching gaze she perceived yet a small glimmer of light within them, a last dying ember waiting to be stoked in to life, if only she could find the fuel to re-light the fire he had lost.

"What is it, beloved" she gently urged, perceiving his increasing uneasiness.

She listened patiently as he struggled to find the words to express that which he needed to say. "Why me?" he asked finally, causing Taurëwen to step back a little in surprise.

"I'm not wise, even if elves are supposed to be, I'm not brave, I've only one leg, I left you without word, I'm a drunk. Why did you choose me out of all the elves in middle-earth?" he continued.

The question had indeed taking her by surprise, though she knew it shouldn't have. She looked at him thoughtfully a little dismayed that he thought so little of himself and he could not see what she could.

"I know why I love you. You're beautiful and wise and wonderful and kind and giving" he added as she paused, her cheeks flushed with quiet embarrassment, but before she could answer Reynion spoke more, "I'm no of those things" he went on, trying unsuccessfully to lighten his tone, Especially not beautiful, " he finished lowering his eyes.

"Are you not!" Taurëwen smiled gently raising an asking eyebrow, but she waited not for an answer.

"Was it not you who selflessly dived into freezing waters to save an elf that was not yet your friend? Was it not you who stood by his companion as they fought the spiders and orcs that infested our Greenwood? and was it not you who killed ....." her voice trailed here a little but she forced herself to go on, "the halforc Rhtalk?" A braver elf I have yet to meet she smiled warmly, though the thought of the halforc made her shiver.

"Kindness!" she continued. "Was it not you who came when my wisdom failed me? Was it not you who agreed to help me heal the lost ones, my brother included? and was it not you who watched over me when I collapsed each night with exhaustion. Her voice was soft and held only simple truth, but as she saw Reynion lower his head at the mention of her brother, she gently reached out her hands lifting his chin, "I have never blamed you for his loss, so you should not either, those who took his life have long since paid. Talas died free of the evil spell, a loyal elf of the greenwood and for that I am glad." she smiled with only the faintest glimmer of pain in her voice.

Her legs tiring from standing so long she sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Reyn to join her before continuing. "My heart had made it's choice before even I was aware," she whispered softly. "Only when circumstance threw us together did I realise what my heart already knew." At Reynion's puzzled expression she explained.
"Only once did I see you in the woods of our home, but each time after, when I walked that forest path I found comfort and safety, that I could not explain and yet did not question, content in that comfortable and safe place." Her soft eyes closing as she recalled the times she walked the green glades without care or fear. "Always did I feel your silent presence." She whispered her eyes still closed in remembering, but a warm and loving smile lit her face.

Her eyes opened and her smile faded slightly, "with the disappearance of my brother and the darkening of the woods these feeling became stifled and lost and the woods no longer gave me comfort as they once did. But that first night on our mission then I wondered to collect fire wood and you joined me, that same feeling of comfort and safety returned to me and as we journeyed this feelings grew, but in foolish pride, I suppose, I tried to bury these feelings, fearing rejection or worse I would give into my feelings only lose you to the horrors we faced." silver tears ran down her soft cheek and she trembled at his touch, as he gently brushed away her tears.

"Their was never a right time," she whispered.

"But still I have not answered your question," she smiled looking deep into his eyes. "I love your strength, your courage, your patience, the way you speak your mind, you caution and even your dry wit. It matters not to me that you have one leg less than any other, it is what is in here and here," she whispered gently touching his head and his heart.

"You are beautiful to me my love," she gently told him.

"With you alone do I feel whole." She whispered as he pulled her gently into his tight embrace kissing her softly, as the kiss ended Taurëwen found herself needing her own question answered. Gently pulling back from his embrace she asked the one question that had tormented her since he had left.

"Why did you leave me?" her voice was but a whisper, her stomach knotted with fear, but her eyes shone with silent yearning to know his answer no matter what it may reveal.

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Pre-dawn of a new day in the Shire

In that curious hour before dawn, something stirs in the hearts and souls of birds that makes them give voice to the arrival of another sunrise. The promise of light calls forth their voices and they sing the circling back of a new day with a mighty paean of chirps and twitters and full throated warbling.

Camlost opened one beady black eye with a groan, and looked blearily out into the predawn grey light inching up on the horizon. Had he fingers he would have stuck them firmly in his ears and hunkered down for another hour or two or three. ‘No use! Those birdbrains will go on twittering until old yellow-eye deigns to show her face,’ he muttered to himself.

The old crow rose stiffly on his leg and shook his feathers out. A half hearted croak escaped him, homage to his bird heritage, as he joined in with an off-key addition to the avian chorus. Light grazed the hills and treetops in the distance and wriggled its weak way over the land. Camlost settled himself on his branch, considering where he might find some breakfast. A slight stirring noise at the base of his tree, accompanied by a muffled whoof and the sounds of yawning, scratching and licking directed his attention downward.

‘What’s this?’ he squawked as the canine raised his large head to fix his yellow eyes on the crow. ‘Someone’s left a rather large, ugly mutt at the front gate.’ He turned his head from side to side and peered more closely at the now stretching form below. ‘A wolf! And a bit flea-bitten and worn out by the looks of him!’

Camlost stretched his wings and flew up to a higher branch. He wanted to be well out of the reach of those grinning jaws should the owner decide to stretch himself up the tree trunk.

‘Hey you!’ he called down in an effort to appear friendly. ‘You have a name? Or shall I just call you “hey you”.’

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Please note: TIME CHANGE

Time is moving forward now in the Shire.

It is early morning, with some clouds gathering in the west which could herald an afternoon thunder shower.

[Elora]

Uien stood with her horse, awaiting Falco Boffin who was to emerge shortly. Her horse, a roan gelding she had named Thalion, flicked his tail from side to side. The stables were quiet this early. Uien's mind was not. There was so much unfinished business and she little liked it. She had been waiting to speak with Derufin but had been unable to. He was busy with old friends and it was not her way to interrupt such things.

Aman too was busy. They all were. She felt a pang of guilt at riding away when there was plainly so much work to be done. But she had given her word, for many reasons, and her word was all she had in these latter days. So, she'd left letters that she had written in the small hours of the night whilst she made final preparations, for Aman and Derufin. All she could do was hope that such would be enough.

Falco emerged from the inn and blinked at the early light as Uien heard a crow cawing. She had little chance to pay much heed to the crow's words, for Falco's appearance without Lumiel drew her attention.

"Well, I think she must have vanished in the night like the rest of them," Falco said as he neared, studying Uien's revised appearance. The worn dress was gone. In its place were well travelled suede breeches, a leather tunic split from hip to mid calf for riding and a simple cream shirt that Uien had tied up in readiness for the day's promised heat. With her hair braided back and gleaming pale gold in the morning, she really did look like an Elf.

Uien studied the windows of the Inn. "I'm sure Lumiel will be here. Did you find her last night?"
"No, I did not," Falco said as he unhitched his pony. "I expect she's found something better to do, a boating trip instead of a riding party. Whatever has happened, it's you and I now and the day's wasting. It's a long road to Bree."

Uien made no response to Falco's gibe. She worriedly studied the inn. "It's certainly long enough for her to catch us up on." With that, she swung up onto Thalion. Falco put his heels to his pony and urged her forward. Uien trailed behind, staring at the inn. It had been her home, truly, when she had long despaired of ever finding such a thing. Her letters seemed inadequate, but she would return to make better amends.

Ahead, Falco's voice floated back to her. "Now's no time for day dreaming!" Uien caught Falco up and the pair disappeared into the dawn. Behind, in the stables, Uien had left two things.

A delicate mallorn flower unfurled it's petals as if greeting a new day, fragile beauty incandesent. The carving sat on a note that read:

Derufin,

Take this as my troth to return and my thanks. I am endebted to you for your kindnesses unnumbered and gracious care. I do not yet know how long it will take to bring Eodwine back. I only know that I will do all in power to ensure he returns, alive.

May the Valar shine upon you, my friend, until next we meet. I do not bid you namarie.

~Uien Aduial~

Inside the inn, on the large wooden table sat another folded piece of paper, written with the same even flowing hand as that left in the stables. It read:

Aman,

Faithless it seems to depart without so much as a hand raised in farewell. You deserve far more than that from one you took in without so much as knowing if I could tie my own shoes.

It is my hope that I will return, and soon, to thank you as fits your generous friendship. I give you this promise. I leave to do whatever can be done for a stranger lost, and I will return to do whatever I can for friends found.

I trust to the Valar to watch well your Inn and those within it, including Cook's pantry and the honey especially.

~Uien Aduial~

On that, Uien had drawn a Green Dragon, such as she had painted upon the inn's hitching rail and embellished it with a rune. It was the only symbol she had that her word, at least was good, for it was the symbol used by her family down the long years. It was the Tengwar rune for the letter "E" which her family had taken to represent their hope, estel that some good and peace would endure the darkness of those earliest of days. It was the rune that had been marked on her fathers and brother's shields, and she gave it now to Aman so that she may hope as Uien did that Eodwine would be found.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]

[Beruthiel]

Lavender Took followed the muddy old track towards the Green Dragon. Her long dress was dragging on the floor and she cursed when she saw the lovely lace edging coming undone. She picked up her skirts off the ground, checking that no one was there to see of course and continued on the path.

The youngish hobbitlass (as she said whenever anyone asked her age) had curly brown hair which, given the chance could be very messy, but Lavender being who she was made sure every curl was kept in place by a well hidden pin. Her chestnut brown eyes were one of the few things Lavender like about her face though she severely detested her nose (and especially the tiny freckles which were visible when you were about one hand’s length from her face).

Finally Lavender reached the door of the Green Dragon Inn, but before opening it she hurried to one of the windows to check her hair was in place, and then pushed open the door very timidly.

At first the Inn took her by surprise, rather than groups of drinking hobbits, Lavender saw just as many elves and men, maybe more.

‘Well, what IS the Shire coming to. Can’t even find a decent inn where there aren’t outsiders spreading gossip and all sorts. Oh deary me, look! Even the innkeeper is a foreigner. How atrocious!’

Shaking her head she headed towards the bar, hoping no one would notice her rather muddy lace trimmed skirts.

‘Dear me, what would Aunty Esmeralda say if she saw me here!’
(Aunt Esmeralda being a distant relation and nothing of an Aunt at all but Esmeralda had stayed with Lavender’s family so often she had finally moved in and ordered everyone to call her Aunt and it stuck that way).

Lavender approached the innkeeper and introduced herself.
“Hello, you must be the innkeeper. I’m Lavender Took and I think I’ll be staying for a few days. Do you have a spare room?”

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: Beruthiel ]

[piosenniel]

Please note: TIME CHANGE

Time is moving forward now in the Shire.

It is early morning, with some clouds gathering in the west which could herald an afternoon thunder shower.

[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

Gorbaus paced in front of the Inn. He narrowed his eyes and gazed the western horizon. "The Grey Havens!" he sighed. He knew he should leave this cozy Inn and lingering there would only delay the moment he had finished his task.
"But not yet", he said to himself, "not yet".

Gorbaus strolled to the Common Room and sat down to the table in the corner where he had sat last night. He wondered if he had a chance to chat again with that sweet though talkative hobbit girl. He leaned back in his chair and felt how weariness took over him.

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: dancing spawn of ungoliant ]

[Larien Lindorenan]

Nedieth sat in her room looking out the window. She had sat for about an hour the night before, talking to Finduilas. She had been amazed at how shy she was. (Flashback)

'“Thank you for your kindness, Nedieth. What brings you to the Shire?” There was a pause, and she added, “If you would prefer to talk with other elves instead with a blind girl, please do not feel obligated to visit with me.”

Nedieth smiled, " No it is fine. I know no one here at the inn. It is a pleasure to talk to anyone. So what part of Gondor do you hail from?"'

(End of flashback)

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Imladris]

I could feel the warm sunshine bathe my face with her gentle rays. A bird chittered quietly and I could dimly hear the screech of an old pump and the water splash within. I breathed deeply, refreshed from my night sleep. The conversation with Nedieth, though sweet, had been a trifle short, as we were both weary with our travel. She had told me of the forest from which she hailed (the strange elvish name has escaped me) and I, in turn, told her of Minas Tirith. My mind respun the evening: Elentari, Soronume, Elentari's song. It had been an enchanting melody, heavy with mournful tears, yet an undercurrent of triumph.

Rising slowly to my feet, I walked softly across the room, my balance slightly wavoring, and found my lyre. I could feel the dust upon the strings, and I reproached myself for not cleaning it more often. I nestled the harp against my shoulder, revelling in the feel of the wood. It had been so long since I had done this, since I had actually held it properly.

My fingers brushed the strings, and a jangling tinkled mockingly from them: I had lost my touch. It was not out of tune for my cousin in Bree had tuned it for me. My fingers found a string (hopefully it was the note C) and I struck it. It rang out, sharp and harsh and it was loud, as well. Not soft and gently as it was of yore. No matter. It would do so once again. I struck again and listened intently: is was A. I crawled down the ladder of strings and finally reached C. Then I stopped.

I never could read music: the stems and blobs of notes muddled me until I was as addle-brained as any hobbit. I had always played by ear and, if I may be so bold as to say it, I do -- did -- that very well. Setting my hands in position, tried to pluck out the tune. My fingers fumbled for the strings, or fell off them entirely. The notes merged together, forming a myriad of discord. Tears sprang to my eyes and my hands dropped to my sides. Of course I could not play again: it was foolish to have even tried.

[Everdawn]

The noise of the inn was what awoke Sírabel Delone from her unexpected slumber that morning. Not knowing that she had fallen asleep the previous night, she jerked her head upwards, many strands of burgundy ahir fell across her eyes.

Yauning she sat up taking in the morning atmosphere and leant her face against her hand. Sírabel then felt the familliar feeling of a chalk like substance on her fingertips. It was the remanants of the pastel. The young Woman looked down at the landscape which she had been painting the night before to discover a smudge made by her face. Hastily she removed the colours from her face.

As her eyes accustomed to the new day she felt her stomach as though it were about to cave in. "That is not good, either im diying or im very hungry." she decided that the latter was the more likely as she was sure that no one had slipped her poison during the last night.

Quietly with her moneybag she made her way once more to the bar.

[Esgallhugwen]

Sleeping, what a nice thing, you could always count on sleep, even if you didn't get that much, it was still there for you to come to. The chirping of the birds and warmth of the sun roused the large wolf into wakefulness. He glanced around with a start when he heard a strange croaking cawing noise coming from above his head.

Draug lookd up at the crow with a yawn, eyeing him with his keen yellow eyes. 'My name is Draug, I will not eat you, seems rather rude andf cruel to eat somthing that is talking to you, wouldn't you say?' He sratched at his left ear.

'Well then what be your name? and you can come closer if ye like, no harm will come I swear by my great fathers'. He picked up a scent of food baking and quickly turned his head in it's direction, an Inn, barely anyway seems awake. Draug looked up at the crow who seemed to be contemplating something himself.

'Oi', draug barked up at the tree 'let say you and me talk over a bite perhaps you can get something from that Inn, one will have to distract while the other grabs the food... sound good?' He sat on his haunches looking about the place, so very beautiful and peaceful.

[Celebnariel]

The twittering of the birds in the trees woke Eamane from her long sleep. The rumbling of her stomach reminded her that she was no longer at home and had not eaten since yesterday morning. She could smell bread baking nearby and went in search of it. The smell was coming from the Green Dragon Inn,only a step from where she had slept.

When setting out on her journey the day before,she had been in a hurry and had left her food behind. The country she had been traveling in had not provided a resting place all day. She had fallen down under a tree in fatigue and hunger at nightfall.

She went inside and was ushered to a table and brought coffee. The women who brought it said her name was Aman and she was the innkeeper of the Green Dragon. A hobbit came and took her order for breakfast.

[ October 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Camlost, the crow

Camlost would have hopped back and forth on his legs, but he had only one. So, he made do with an awkward bobbing up and down. The wolf seemed friendly enough, on the one hand. And much to his surprise had spoken quite intelligently to him. On the other hand, there were those large, sharp teeth, and the fact that he mentioned he was hungry.

With one beady black eye fixed on the wolf, Camlost fluttered down to a lower branch. The wolf backed up a pace and sat on his haunches, giving the crow a measure of assurance.

‘The name is Camlost,’ he said to the wolf. The crow looked toward the Inn, watching the smoke curl up from the Inn kitchen. ‘How about I do a fly about and get back to you. I’ll see what’ll be easy for us to snag.’

A short while later and he was winging his way back, landing in a flurry of dust in the dirt in front of the wolf. Draug had lain back down, resting his head on his front paws. He sneezed at the intrusion of dust to his snout, nearly blowing over the already unsteady crow.

'Well?' he asked, his yellow eyes appraising the wobbly bird.

'Well,' returned Camlost, 'at the back of the Inn, along the sills of two of the kitchen windows, the cook has set out four lovely, large meat pies she is cooling for lunch later.' He winked at the wolf and continued. 'I'm sure she won't miss just one . . .!'

[ October 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Buttercup and Ruby

‘Cook’s just set out the meat pies to cool for lunch,’ said Buttercup hurrying out to the Common Room with a pitcher of that southern brew that had grown popular of late in the Shire. Coffee, it was. And if truth be told she was growing quite fond of it herself. Laced with sugar and a dollop of heavy cream, there was nothing better to get your day started. Her tray also held a pot of sweetspice tea, and a pitcher of ale for those who wanted it.

Ruby walked out with her, carrying a large tray filled with platters of scrambled eggs, and slices of Shire ham, and thick pieces of toast in napkin covered baskets. Pots of sweet cream butter and sweet strawberry jam accompanied the toast, as well as honey for those who preferred it.

‘Yes,’ replied Ruby, and that will mean she’ll want us cutting up the vegetables for the soup she’s serving with it. Best we get these plates handed round and get back to the kitchen.’

Buttercup stopped at the table of the tired looking newcomer. ‘A refill, Miss?’ she asked her, topping off the young woman’s cup of coffee. ‘Looks like you could use a little food, too,’ smiled Ruby, placing a heaping plate in front of the woman. The two Hobbit servers introduced themselves to Eamane, saying they hoped she would have a pleasant time in the Shire. ‘Just call us if you need anything,’ they added as they moved on to the next table.

Here was the blond haired fellow that Prim had been talking with last night. He looked tired, too - his chin lolling on his chest as he sat in his chair. Buttercup nudged his arm, and he came awake with a start.

‘Mater Gorbaus, it’s Buttercup. I’ve brought you some coffee, or there’s tea or ale if you prefer.’ Ruby put a heaping platter before the man. ‘You look like you could use some breakfast, too,’ she chided him. ‘The day looks best on a full stomach!’ He asked after Prim, and Ruby said she would be in later she thought, she had gone for an early morning visit to the family of one of her cousins.

Another customer waved them over, and they hurried off to see to his wants.

[Witch_Queen]

After setting a while at the table with Elentari she realized that she was drifting again. "Sorry about that Elentari, that is your name isn't it? Its a long story. One that shouldn't be told here."

The voices were about to drive her crazy. "Smani you can't escape it. You are bound to it. Just give in." "Get away from me," she screamed. "I'm sorry Elentari I can't tell you for telling you could ruin what I have got now."

She tried not to remember what her troubles were when she began to drift away again. "Smani tell me. It would ease your troubles."

"I can't sorry. I can't tell you. Though you might now the face you don't know the name. Smani isn't my actual name. Tell no one what I am about to tell you and please help me keep my secret. Please." Smani didn't know what she was going to get herself into with the whole putting the secret out. She began to tell Elentari her secrets and about how she is constantly threatened with the voice of her dead father. In a low voice she said her actual name " Though you know my face, my name is..." The sound of the name Cree made the Inn go quiet.

"You've done it now. That was the wrong thing to do,"she thought to herself. The silence was about to kill her.

[ October 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Celebnariel]

Eamane started to look around the room as the good food revived her. A young fellow who looked weary sat at a table near her own. She noticed that there were many different kinds of people at this Inn. She thought of the long journey ahead of her, and decided it would be a good idea to stop here for awhile and perhaps learn more about the Shire country.

Eamane was an elf in search of a long forgotten branch of her family,they had last been known in these parts. She had traveled with her father as she was growing up and longed to return to that kind of life. A friend had come upon her and said that there were rumours of the long lost elves,she had set out right away.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"Why did I leave?" Reyn repeated. "To be honest, I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I was afraid that you would reject me. I thought this leg of mine," here he gestured to his wooden leg, "would make you pity me. I never wanted pity. I used to be proud, you know." A self-deprecating smile. "I didn't want to go live with my father--we don't, well, didn't, get along so well, and I--" he stopped abruptly, not wanting to hurt her.

"And what, beloved?" she asked, apparently confused as to why he had ceased like that. "And what?"

I saw you dancing with Orodhin, he thought, but did not say aloud. "It doesn't matter anymore. It never mattered, I only thought it did." He stopped again, then laughed slightly. "Do you know, I don't believe I've said this much at once in my entire life? Much less this much about things close to my heart."

He sighed, and pulled Taurewen close to him again, breathing deeply of her herbal scent. She fit exactly in his arms, like they had been made especially for each other. Actually, he was sure that they had.

He would have liked to stay that way forever, just the two of them, sitting alone on the plain, but comfortable bed. Unfortunately, even elves in love must care for their body, and they were no exception. "Beloved," he murmured. "It feels odd to say this," I've been living on wine for the past hundred years or so. "But I am suddenly struck that I haven't eaten for several days and I'm famished. Shall we to the common room?"

[Elizabeth Elindel]

The door opened silently, and a tall figure slipped in. A vail was drawn over her face, only her dark eyes showed, sparkling in the firelight.

A sword hung at her side, a bow and quiver of arrows was on her back. She shut the door and glanced around her, her eyes darting from figure to figure.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Imladris]

I felt hot tears roll down my face as I stroked the harp like an obsessed, deluded lover. Long had that instrument been my friend, where I could pour my feelings into a single melody. Curse my blindness!

Standing up and wrecklessly striding to the window, I pushed the shutter open and leaned out, so that the sill dug into my stomach. I breathed deeply as I felt the wind caress my face with biting sharpness and tug my hair as it tied it into mishcievous knots.

Leaves of the trees rustled softly, their singing soft and low as they were plucked by the breeze as it tripped merrily by. What was hidden in the branches, what secrets did they contain? What insects haunted the rotting wood? What lady bird warmed her egs in her woven her haven of twigs and mud? What woodland seat was molded by the twisted roots of ancient oaks?

What colour of the sun streamed through this window (if it indeed even entered into my little room)? Did it land upon the wooden floor with a golden splash of tumultous brilliance, or did it creep softly within, glimmering upon the walls as it traveled to the west?

I could feel that a splinter had wriggled it's way through my rags and lodged itself in my stomach. I didn't care. The pain, annoying and burning as it was, was a welcome distraction from my questions which only taunted me. I bowed my head to the sill, the roughened sides digging into the the thin skinned flesh of my forehead. I was weary...weary of living.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Elentari glared at those in the room who had gone silent at the sound of her companion’s true name. Cree... The name had a nice ring to it, yet this elf feared to share it. Under the intensity of Elentari's gaze the people in the inn continued their own conversations. Cree was right, Elentari knew her face but she had never known her name. Elentari sighed and looked back to Cree's troubled face.

"Smani," Elentari said. "Your past seems a dark one, and so I will not return to this subject in conversation. If you ever decide you want to share this burden, I will be here for you."

The elf's face softened slightly, though Elentari could see she was still troubled. Elentari suddenly remembered she had not gone to see Finduilas the night before, and so she gave her apologies to Cree and rushed off to find her young Gondorian friend. As she walked closer to Finduilas' room she heard a harp being played. She quietly opened the door so Finduilas would not know she was there. Discourteous as it was to sneak into her room, Elentari wanted to see how she acted alone. As the elf suspected she would, she stopped playing and walked over to the window. She was crying.

"You are merely out of practice," Elentari said, causing the girl to spin round.

"You heard me playing?" said Finduilas. "I didn't know you were there."

"Forgive me," Elentari apologised. "I wished to see how you are out of the public eye. You do not seem as happy as you were yesterday."

Finduilas turned back to the window. She could feel the gentle sunlight touch her face, but she could not see it. Elentari walked next to her and leaned on the windowsill. It was a fairly nice day, but there were clouds in the west.

"There's going to be a thunderstorm, isn't there," said Finduilas unexpectedly. "I can smell it on the air. I love that smell."

Elentari smiled. "See, you can already predict the weather. Yes, it looks as if there will be a thunderstorm, for there are clouds in the west. What else do your senses tell you?"

Finduilas took a moment take in everything her senses were telling her. "I hear some chicks in a tree over there," she said pointing. "They are calling to their parents because they're hungry. The leaves are rustling in the trees and there are people travelling down the road, one, no, two on ponies. And I can smell... I can smell breakfast!"

Elentari laughed. "You are correct in everything you say, Finduilas. Do not give up on the world yet! Come, let us go to breakfast." She led her young friend out of her room and back to the main room.

"Elentari!" said Soronume. "Did your nose tell you it's time for breakfast?"

"Not mine," replied the elf. "It was Finduilas' keen nose!"

[Larien Lindorenan]

Nedieth was famished. Breakfast smelled so good and she hurried to get dressed. Depression was on her again, though. Longing for her home. The smell reminded her of her aunt's cooking. She would cook small meals but they were always delicious.

She nearly ran down the stairs, for a moment being lost in her memories, but she slowly regained her composure. Reaching the commons, she grabbed a table.

[Elizabeth Elindel]

The valed figure halted for a moment, as if unsure what to do. She had travled all night, and into the morning. Now, she was weary, and wanted some food before pressing on. She made her way over to a table, and slowly sat down. She smiled wanly at Ruby, and requested some plain bread.

She pulled her vail to the side as she hingrily, bit into her bread that Ruby gave her, ignoring the glances of the other men and elves. Some light streamed in from the window and fell on her face, revealing two long scars, running down her left cheek.

Even as she ate, she glanced around the room anxously, as though she feared someone was watching her. She longed for company who would not look down on her, and tried not to show it.

[the real findorfin]

A cloaked and hooded traveller rose from his seat and shuffled unnoticed across the room to sit down beside the veiled figure. She looked up from her bread and nodded in greeting.
"Greetings," he said. His voice was mellow and soothing and his face was well shaped. He was an elf but did not seem to carry the aloof airs of one of the elder children.

"Hello," she replied, keeping her eyes lowered.

"You seem weary?" he suggested, trying to begin a conversation.

"I have travelled," she replied vaguely.
"Well, you certainly look non the worse for it." he smiled, a warm open smile, inviting and totally friendly.

[Elizabeth Elindel]

"Do I?" She asked, smileing. "I've travled long, I'm on my way to the havens. It's been a long time..." her eyes wandered to the window, and back again to the elf.

"My adventrues have taken me many places. My name is Elizabeth - I am an elf from Galadreal's relm. What is your name, and where are you from?"

[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.

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:

Derufin, a Man from Ethring in the Ringló Vale, is the stablemaster and general handyman/jack of all trades for the Inn. (Character written for by Envinyatar)

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen (Character written for by Piosenniel)

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 and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Amaranthas Bolger – very old, crotchety Hobbit from Hobbiton, nicknamed ‘The Dragon’

Piosenniel – Elven, Innkeeper prior to Aman; married to Mithadan; has two children: a twin boy and girl; as yet unnamed infants.
_____________________________________________


It is nearing midmorning of a midsummer day in the Shire. The weather is fair, though there are clouds on the horizon.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mantauriel]

Dimgwrthien rides up on a white horse, looking about the horizon for signs of anyone before entering the inn. She throws her head back and hopes for rain to approach later.

Entering the inn, she sees a crowd of people. Dimgwrthien sits in a corner chair, watching everyone and waiting to order. Her cloak gets cast aside along with the fingerless gloves her favored. Sighing, her eyes closed and she thought on the past.

Ruby walks up to Dimgwrthien, who just opened her eyes, trying to know rid the thoughts from the Third Age.

"What would you like?" the hobbit asks the Elf.

"Hm... just water." The dark cloak had somehow tangled on the clumsy Elfling as she tried to sit up. "Darn..." she muttered under her breath. Her voice was soft and graceful like any Elf's, but she muttered a few words that noone would be able to hear. She shook her head as the hobbit retreated and fixed her wond blown hair.

"Illuvater... Why do the Ages pass like wind?" she breathed into her soft hands. A moment later, she saw Ruby walk back up to her. "Thank you," she purred to the hobbit as she was handed the cup. Outside the wondow, the clouds remained, and Dimgwrthien opened up some random book she found in her pocket, written in Quenya. "What's this?" Without looking at the title, she read a fewpages of it, waiting to anything to happen.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mantauriel]

Mantauriel

I have edited this post onto the end of the post just above this.

Please check your PM's (Private Messages)- by clicking on the 'my profile' prompt at the top right of the page.

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

*Will remove this post once you have responded to the PM.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Everdawn]

Sírabel had been quite content by herself, as she usually was these days, with only her imagination and the sky abover her to keep her company. The young woman just couldnt remember the last time she had a decent conversation, or any conversing which had been previously done was certainly not worth of being recorded as a proper talk from one person to another, more like from Sírabel to passin horses or a pony which she might sometime have to carry her long distances.

She was managing to knot small strands of her deep burgundy hair as she drank her tea, in her dream state, oblivious to the goings on around her.

"My adventrues have taken me many places. My name is Elizabeth - I am an elf from Galadreal's relm. What is your name, and where are you from?"



Sírabel snapped her head around to the table behind her, where sat a male elf and a female, scarred elf. She then spun the whole way round on her stool facing them. She spoke first to the male elf, "You are in the company of an elf!.. Elf." Now she did not expect the man to react in any other way than confused, as the answer was obvious. To the woman elf she spoke "Galadriel's realm? I have seen the ourside of that wood, many times have i longed to venture into it and capture the image. But alas! Long has it been since the elves emptied from there, or so they say, that i fear that i may be too mortal to enter such a sacred land."

She trailed off as if in another dream like state. "It is Marvellous... Do you think?"

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

[Witch_Queen]

Alone again. Thats how it always has been for her. Now her identity out she sat there in the troubles that surrounded her life and her name. "Forgive me Father."

The place was getting a little too crowded for her. Yet she didn't want to leave. So many people here. She noticed the elf maiden setting with what seemed to be a man but she paid them no attention.

She got up from her table and began to walk towards the bar when she started hearing voices in her head again. "Excuse me. A glass of water please." she said to the man at the bar. She stood there yet the voices wanted her to leave.

Just leave me alone she thought to herself. I will be fine I just need to stop these voices. She glanced around one last time to see a maiden setting at the end of the bar. So I'm not the only one alone. Many people are alone today. Sad it is truely. My father would be proud to see how the world is with out his help. He couldn't stay here for forever. She noticed she had drifted away and only to come back and realize she was truely alone now.

"Why father? Why? Is this how its ment to be or is there a hidden something in me." She felt for her amulet she had confiscated from her fathers body. The amulet ment nothing to her anymore.

After she got her glass of water she noticed a man in the corner. She began to walk back to her table but instead went to greet the man.
"Excuse me. My name is Sma.. its Cree. May I join you? You look like you could use the company. Gorbaus is it? I over heard you and Aman I believe is his name."

She had thought he would say no thats what they always say when you ask to join them. "So what will it be set alone or let me join you and end some of the loneliness here in the Green Dragon."


[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Witch_Queen ]

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Witch_Queen ]

[the real findorfin]

"Why, I am Fin, elf lord of Mirkwood," he replied. "I have not entered the Green Dragon for a long time, and it seems I have returned at just the right moment." He smiled at her. "On to the Havens you may be, but surely you have not forsaken Middle Earth. There are many joys yet to be found within its boundaries."

He turned and waved Rose over. "Hello my dear," he began in a juanty voice. "I would like a dry white wine for myself and whatever the lady desires."

Elizabeth said what she would like and Rose asked, "would you like any food, my lord? We have a stew boiling in the pot," and with this she indicated the huge pot hanging over the hearth.

"That would be most welcome," he replied, "make it two bowls, then the lady may eat some if she has a care to."

Rose nodded and left to gather the order and Fin returned to the lovely elvish maiden before him. "How long are you here?" he inquired, "and why is it that you travel alone and unattended?"

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[Mantauriel]

When Dimgwrthien saw several converstations go on, she poised herself upright to eavsdrop. Her curious nature had, yet again, gotten the better of her. When she heard a few words of one, she noticed a growing shadow over her. Slowly turning, she saw a person, but they were covered with a cloak.

"Yes?" she stuttered. The person just looked over her and went over to the next table to where someone was talking. Dimgwrthien raised an eyebrow at this. Who was the person?

[elf-girl-63]

Nuinyulma yawned, after finishing her conversation lwith Pio last last night, she had wandered to her room and had sat humming old tunes from her homeland. Pio's words still echoed in her mind, if Eryn Lasgalen was home to the elves once more then perhaps she could visit the wood. She stretched out her arms and got up, splashed some cool water onto her pale face and looked out of the window.

The Shire sparkled in the mid-morning sun although there appeared to be some ominous clouds headed the inn's way. She looked down onto the land again and saw some young hobbits playing. Nuinyulma smiled and shook her head to awaken her properly. The stables seemed to have filled up and she thought of her own horse Lainniss. The name suited her well- independent- and Nuinyulma had been meaning to visit her.

She smoothed her dress down and stepped lightly down the narrow stairs to the common room. It was unusual for her to awake to late in the morning and she frowned in annoyance at what she may have missed. Entering, the common room Nuinyulma found an empty table and surveyed the room before her. She had been right. There were many new faces here and both Ruby and Buttercup were flying from the bar to tables to the kitchen and back.

"Good morning Mistress Nuinyulma. What can I get you this morning?" Aman looked rushed off her feet and so the elf decided to be brief.

"Some, coffee please Aman and whatever is left of breakfast. I'm a little late this morning."

The innkeeper nodded, "I'll bring it over as soon as. Though, I can't promise there'll be much left. As you can see," she waved her arm across the room, "we're rather busy today." She escaped to the kitchen to fetch Nuinyulma's order.

Meanwhile, Nuinyulma sighed. She thought of Uien and Falowik and how disappointed they would be. Doran had disappeared and she had pushed Tiruviel away who had also vanished. It was almost 15 minutes before Aman returned carrying some coffee and toast.

"I'm sorry but there were so many orders and Cook's running out of food," she placed the pot and plate on the table, "I'm afraid this is all I could find. Mind, there's plenty of coffee! Folk round here aren't so keen on it." SHe was immediately called away leaving the elf to have her breakfast alone.

Nuinyulma soon finished the toast and drained the cup. She then took leave of the inn and ran to the stables.

"Mellon!" she cried to her horse as Lainniss neighed appreciatively as Nuinylma nuzzled her mane. "You're one the few I have here as well."

Lainniss snorted and stamped her feet. SHe then poked her nose into her owner's pocket and appeared with a cold piece of toast.

"Hmmmmmm. Well you were going to have that later but it appears Rohan horses are particularly intelligent. Though maybe not as others. For example, SHadowfax."

The horse snorted again but this time in disapproval.

"DOn't worry Lainniss, I will ride you again soon. You would've been ridden sooner if it were not for..." She stopped and smiled. Anyway, I'm sure you are perfectly happy with your own kind."

She looked around the stables at the other horses and smiled. Then stroking hers one last time she left them and skipped out into the yard. She found the children and watched them for a while before returning to the inn to think.

[Elizabeth Elindel]

"Joys, yes, there may be, but there are sorrows as well, many of them, and that is why I wish to depart," Elizabeth softly said. "For a long time I lived with kin in Rivendell, and then I left on a journey to Lothlorian. That proved to be my undoing, for I was ambushed by a wandering company of yarch. I was taken captive... luckly, the group was one of the last strongholds in Moria, and not under the power of the white hand, before the war of the Ring, so I was not taken to Isengard or to Mordor, and I still shudder to think what might have happened to me, had I been taken there." Elizabeth turned her face away, and shuddered slightly.

"I walk alone beacuse no one would have me, in answer to your last question. Beacuse of my captivity - let's just say that I'm not the person that I used to be, outwardly, and inwardly."

[the real findorfin]

Fin was sorrowed by her words and tale. "My lady, you have a much grievous past, but that is behind. Remain a while here I beg, and, if your mind is still not turned away from the westerward journey then pray, let me accompany you so far as your path leads in Middle Earth. I would not see you walk alone when company thou could have."

Fin was interupted by a cough from Rose as she stood behind him. "Your food and drink," she explained, putting a tray down on the table.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said.

"My pleasure," Rose replied, "anything to help you evade Fin's exaggerated speeches."

"I beg your pardon, sweet Rose," Fin exclaimed, turning to her, "I speak nothing but the truth to the radiant elvish lady before me."

"Hmph," the serving women said and, smiling, walked away to serve other customers.

"Well?" Fin asked, slipping back into the conversation.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[Elizabeth Elindel]

Elizabeth's eyes wandered to the window, and she gazed out for a few moments. Then, she turned back to Fin, searching his face with her eyes intently. No one had ever asked her something like this before. Even at home, she had been the outcast, the person whom no one would talk to. Interstingly enough, she was an orphen, both of her parents died when she was young. As a result, she had taken up wepons to defend herself, and had lived for many years as a wanderer, going from place to place.

As a result, she was rather puzzled and suspicus when Fin asked her if she would say for a time. "Why do you care?" She asked suddenly and abruptly. "What is the reason that you ask me this?"

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Elizabeth Elindel ]

[piosenniel]

Everyone

Please note that in the Inns and in the RPG's writers are encouraged to be more descriptive and less chatty in their posts.

Try to expand your posts if needed.

Chatty posts (ones that consist of mostly dialog/monolog) with little descriptive prose, will be sent back to their writers for revision.

Let us see how your character is acting - what he/she thinks, smells, hears, feels, etc.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Imladris]

As I tentatively allowed Elentari to guide me down the stairs and to the delicious breakfast that wafted through my room, I mused upon her words. I wondered if I had been wallowing in self pity, and decided that I wasn’t, technically.

A wooden bowl was clunked unexpectedly in front of me and I could feel the steam rise and burn my cheeks. It smelled like porridge. Elentari invited Soronume to breakfast with us as she put a wooden in my hand. I carefully scraped off the top so that I would not burn my tongue and blew gently upon it. It was strange eating without being able to see your food, which was just as well since I thought that porridge looked unappetizing anyway: sort of like -- well, I shan’t mention what I thought it looked like.

It tasted good, though and very soon I was scraping the bottom of the bowl with my spoon. Then, turning to Elentari with a smile, I said: I cannot play the harp because I haven’t practiced, it is because I am blind.” Hearing her about to protest, I raised my hand to silence her and continued, “I have seen women play looking at music written on paper and only glancing occasionally at the strings. I must learn to do that as well.”

Sinking into my chair, I rubbed my eyes, hoping that the ache would go away. I realized that I had actually been sinking into a kind of despair and that it was actually kind of stupid to do that since then I would be left with nothing. If I gave into despair, then I would delude myself into thinking I could do nothing. Elentari was right, after all.

[Mantauriel]

When Dimgwrthien returned outside, she smelled the morning dew. It was around one, by the rising sun. At the stables, her horse, Maik neighed softly. Dimgwrthien felt her blue eyes slide open (couldn't help it) at she mounted the white horse, and nearly fell asleep.

The shadow approached again. Being ready, she grabbed the sword at her side and raised it to her right. Maik stepped backward a few feet and neighed again.

"Noro lim!" she whispered urgently to the horse, but he was frozen in terror. "It's only a shadow! Move!" she hissed. In her mind though, she was also fearing what could raise her hair and scare the horse. When she slowly turned to the shadow, she gasped and nearly fell off again.

"Elrohir?" she heard herself whisper. The face of the Elf she had come to know at Rivendell swam before her. Granted that she was near sleeping, she tried to beleive it was him. After all, she never heard news that he was gone. In a heartbeat, she thought she saw him slid back on her horse and they rode away, she thoughts swimming in a pool of her mind.

[Ealasaide]

As Avarlondwen stepped over the threshold into the common room of the inn, a smile touched her delicate features. It had been a long time since she last been to the Green Dragon, but she could see in a glance that very little had changed. It was almost as though time had stood still in the Shire. She liked that. So much had changed outside the boundaries of the Shire that she found this island of continuity comforting. Laying her hood back on to her shoulders, she looked around for an empty chair. Seeing one next to a very pretty, but young-looking elf, she moved in that direction.

Actually, she was surprised at the number of elves that were present in the inn that morning. Since the beginning of the Fourth Age, so many of her kind had already journeyed to Mithlond and boarded Cirdan’s white ships. She knew that she should go herself, but still felt unable to leave Middle Earth. She hoped to see Eryn Lasgalen, the wood of green leaves, and walk beneath the boughs of its ancient trees at least once more before she departed for the Undying Lands. She sighed. The Shire was a long way from Eryn Lasgalen, or Mirkwood as it was called in darker days. Perhaps one day soon...

She pushed her long, golden hair back with one hand and sat down beside the elven maiden she had noticed earlier. She believed she had heard someone call her Eamane.

“Mae govannen,” she said pleasantly. “My name is Avarlondwen. May I join you?” As she looked at the young elf maiden, she was suddenly struck by the familiarity of her features. Something about her, the way she smiled perhaps, reminded Avarlondwen strangely of her brother. She had not seen him in many, many years, not since she had left the northern woodlands and gone south to live with the elves of the Lothlorien in the beginning of the Third Age. She did not know if her brother even still remained in Middle Earth, but the face of this girl filled her with a sudden longing for family. It had been so long.

[the real findorfin]

Fin sighed deeply. He was no longer in the Woodland Realm of his birth and people did not know him. Elizabeth had every right to question his motives. He wondered why he had offered her his companionship? It was another spur of the moment decision that he was prone to making.

After taking some time to form his response, he began, "so many of my friends have left these shores in the last few years, and I did not have the chance to persuade them otherwise or to even say goodbye." His face showed the smallest signs of the sorrow buried within. "I had no right to persuade you to stay, but perhaps you may still let me accompany you. No one should take this journey alone, not their last in Middle Earth." His voice had lost its bravado and he was speaking truthfully now. "You look in need of a friend."

He dipped his eyes and returned to eating his stew with the small wooden spoon. Elizabeth was silent and also continued to eat. Fin worried his extraverted front had scared Elizabeth away and scolded himself. Not every elf he met would be a swooning maiden taking in my sweet words.

After scrapping the last of the gravy from the bottom of the bowl, he finished his wine and looked up at her. "I am sorry Elizabeth. Please forgive me."

The bustle in the inn was loud but Fin concentrated and blocked out the sounds about him; laughing hobbits, quiet elvish whispers and the talk of men. What would Elizabeth say?

[Elizabeth Elindel]

"Perhaps it has been the theme all my life of being left out." Elizabeth said. "So many people have left me alone so many." Inwardly, she thought 'and perhaps when one did ask for my companionship, I feared being rejected, so I nearly turned him away.'

The noise swirled around her, she seemed unable to block it out. The air was very warm, but still, she shivered, and drew her vail tighter around her face, as though she wanted no one else to see beneath it. The food had revived her, and she felt better, but Fin's request had startled her. But then, again, he was a kindred elf. Did all elves act this way towards each other? She was still young, even by their own reckoning, and she had never learned.

The decisions tugged at her mind. At length, she said "I will stay the night, in the morning I will decide what I will do."

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: Elizabeth Elindel ]

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Celebnariel]

Eamane looked up as the strange elf joined her. It seemed long since she had talked with someone similar to herself. The elf said her name was Averlondwen and asked if she could join her. Eamane replied: "yes of course, I am Eamane."

As she looked at Averlonwen she was amazed by the resemblance between them. She thought suddenly of the people she was in search of, could this be? was it possible that her quest would be over so soon? Thinking it unwise to be so hopeful she decided to find out more about Averlonwen.
"Do you live in these parts? I have never been here before."

[Esgallhugwen]

Draug licked his lips,mmmm meat pies, havn't had something hearty like that in a while...or ever for that matter, he looked up at Camlost a glean in his yellow gold eyes; 'well then, seems to me she won't miss one at all and theres no 'arm splitting it between the two of us'. He gave a toothy grin trotting up to the front window to have a gander at the goings on in the Inn.

Draug's ears shot up at once; why, theres little people in there with hairy feet!!, he eyes them curiously, so the orcs were telling the truth but they didn't look half as bad as the orcs mae them out to be; in fact they looked rather jovial and in good spirits. But what's this? They look like men, but they walk about as if they float and they seem to glow with fairness! ... Elves they must be. This is too much for me Elves and Hobbits!

His tail swished from side to side, stirring up the dust around him. He turned back to Camlost who was giving him a queer eye 'what's wrong, 'ever seen Hobbits before?' he croaked down at him, 'Hobbits! I've never seen nor Elves for that matter, I've heard tales and rumors but never seen them' he sat down lifting up his hind leg to scratch under his chin.

'Well?' cooed Camlost bobbing his head up and down, 'yes, yes, well you'll have to distract you can fly and are far smaller than I am not as easy to catch, I can grab the pie then off the back windowsill. Sound like a plan?' Draug went up to the window again making sure no one could see him as he continued to fancy the Elves and Hobbits.

[piosenniel]

Camlost, the crow

The two hungry creatures made their way to the back of the Inn. Draug padded silently from bush to tree, keeping in the shadows. His last hiding place was just behind the storage shed that sat at the end of the Inn garden. Hunkering down beneath a potting table that sat up against the side of the outbuilding, he was well hidden. His keen yellow eyes were focused on the window sills that flanked the kitchen door. The quarry was in sight!

Camlost was perched on the top of the shed, his head twisting back and forth as he surveyed the area. The scent of the wolf had caused a minor alarm in the chicken pen and some uneasiness in the stable that stood just across the yard. A man, the stableman the crow assumed, had come out to the yard to check for the source of the problem.

Squawking loudly, the crow flew to a perch on the edge of the stable eaves that overlooked the chicken pen. ‘So it’s you causing all this commotion, is it?’ eyeing the crow. ‘You looking for some leftover chicken feed to snatch up? Or some spilled oats, perhaps.’ Camlost bobbed his head and croaked, almost as if answering him. The man shooed him off and went back into the stables to quiet the horses.

‘Another stupid two-leg,’ chuckled Camlost circling back to the roof of the shed. ‘There’s no one about now,’ he hissed to his hidden companion. ‘And look, the Cook has been so kind as to set out the bread for the noon meal. A cooling rack with fat, fragrant loaves had been put on a table just outside the kitchen door.

‘Be quick now, Sir Wolf!’ said Camlost spreading his wings for a silent glide that would bring him over the table. ‘You grab a pie; I’ll get the bread. We’ll meet in that copse of tall trees and bushes to the south of the Inn yard . . .’

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman’s eyelids flicked up suddenly and she sat up carefully in bed, awoken by some instinct that told her something was wrong. Apparently an instinct that worked purely on gut feeling or was triggered by birdsong though, the Innkeeper thought, sleepily annoyed, for at first she couldn’t hear anything. Then the soft murmur of a man’s voice, followed by the smooth, quiet melody of another, followed by the click of the door closing and a key turning in the lock, sounds almost inaudible if you weren’t listening for them, told Aman why she hadn’t been able to hear anything, and with a jolt she came to her senses. To be sure, elves moved silently, and Uien was one of the best at it.

Now fully awake, the Innkeeper grabbed her long, loose cloak off the end of the bed and swung it over her bed-clothes as she ran across her dark bedroom, the shutters still closed. Tripping on something left on the floor (Aman had never really been a big one for cleaning up – she simply didn’t let Cook into her room now), Aman added doing a quick sweep around her room before Pio saw the state of it to her ever-growing list of things to do as she stumbled, losing a few seconds. Then, making her way by touch and by memory of where she had left things and where things usually were, the Innkeeper ran down the stairs as quietly as she could without wakening the Inn’s denizens and guests, reaching the Common Room…to the faint sound of hooves.

Aman sighed and slowed down, realising she had indeed missed Uien and Falowik. Going towards the window which looked out on the bend of the path, still shuttered in the dark room, Aman brushed past the large central table, her fingers sweeping lightly across it, before the encountered something and stopped its passage. Picking up the letter inquisitively from its neat perch between two salt shakers, Aman opened the shutters of the window she had been going towards, and in the dawn light she read the flowing, elegant hand in which her name was inscribed on the front, immediately recognising it. Fumbling in her coat pocket as and glancing after the riders, now trotting into the middle distance, the Innkeeper slit the envelope open with a pen knife, and unfurled the letter inside it, smiling slightly.

She read the letter through twice, her eyes taking in every word of the even, slanting script first quickly, then more slowly, drinking in every word with a fond sadness, a smile hovering around her lips, especially when she read the part about ‘not even knowing whether I could tie my own shoelaces’. She realised how much she was going to miss Uien, but at the same time, her heart swelled with pride for the elf in the quest that she was going to do, along with Falowik. Looking up once more at the now empty path, Aman raised a hand in silent salute, smiling sadly. “Good luck, both of you, good luck and gods speed,” she murmured, adding afterwards with a slightly wider smile, “You’re a lucky man, Falowik, take care of her.”

Although she was not sure if she would have managed to communicate to the pair in mind speech, as she and Pio could, she somehow felt that they had heard her.

Well, I’m certainly not going to get back to sleep now… the Innkeeper rose from her perch on the windowsill, disappearing into her room for a few moments, and coming out afterwards fully clothed in a soft, cotton dress the colour of cornflowers, its skirt rustling slightly with a light, efficient sound. Making her way around the Common Room, Aman opened all the windows, woke the sleepers who she had managed to miss last night, and began to prepare for a new day, humming quietly under her breath (not loud enough to wake those upstairs, of course) a tune she had heard Uien once singing to the horses to calm and soothe them…

~*~

“Cook, is there anything left of breakfast?”

Aman called this from the kitchen doorway, popping her head around into the kitchen from the rather crowded Common Room. As she did so, a great cloud of steam rose from the sink as Buttercup left the bacon pan in to wash. Cook raised her eyes skywards and Buttercup winced.

“Well, we could have some more bacon, but now…”

“Sorry, Cook – ” Buttercup started sheepishly, before it was waved away with the steam by Cook.

“Just dry up and set some more on, please.” Buttercup hastened to do so, and Cook turned to Aman, her plump face rosy. “I don’t know, so many things to do of late.”

Aman nodded, grinning, opening her mouth to start speaking…before stopping, lips still parted as she stared through the cloud of steam out of the window. Good grief, it couldn’t be, surely… Darting to the window, the Innkeeper peered out quickly, looking around…just in time to see a rather mangy, shaggy rear end disappear sharply around the corner. Getting the unnerving feeling she was being watched, Aman looked up into the tree outside the kitchen window. She almost laughed.

“Getting paranoid, Aman…thinking you’re being watched, and thinking you’ve seen a wolf….in the Shire? I ask you…” Aman murmured, feeling foolish. Cook raised her eyebrows in askance.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, nothing Cook, nothing at all,” Aman replied quickly , then, hoping to avoid suspicion of her suspicions, she added, “Just…just tired that’s all.”

Vinca nodded, satisfied, and turned back to put on the bacon and some more toast. Rubbing her eyes, Aman went back into the Common Room to deal with the customers and, she hoped, get herself a cup of coffee...

[piosenniel]

We have reached the limit for this thread, as requested by the Barrow Wight.

Please continue on The Green Dragon Inn - Part 7 (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000126)

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]