[Bekah]

Morwennar woke up as the light pierced her consciousness.

The source of it became apparent as Morwennar regained awareness. A small chink of cold but bright light shone through some curtains.

She slowly realized where she was: a fairly comfortable chair in the Green Dragon Inn in the Shire. Someone else was snoring in another chair.

Morwennar got up and began to explore quietly. She had no idea what time it was, but by the position of the moon outside, it was quite early in the morning. She'd had enough sleep, anyway.

Where were her clothes and hairbrush?

Memory rushed to her aid and she recalled leaving them on the horse. She hadn't chosen a room, so of course no one would have shifted them.

Or would they? It never paid to be too trusting, in Morwennar's experience.

Only one way to find out. She winced as the cold of the frosted grass successfully numbed her feet painfully. The horse was in the stables, around the back of the inn.

Morwennar shivered in the cold air, her thin clothes rustling in the breeze.

There was Thunder. And her clothes. But her money wasn't there. Who had stolen it??

She had come here, and the stable boy - or rather man, he was a man, not a boy - had taken Thunder. The money was in a small skin in the saddlebag.

Derufin, that was the name. He must have taken it.

She strode back to the inn, her face stony as she thought over the dangers of the inn.

Once inside, she dropped onto her chair, dumping her bag of personal effects beside her.

No harm in looking for her money. He could have put it in the inn, nobody would suspect that.

The walls of the room were of a beautiful kind of wood; the Green Dragon was also in the open instead of a hobbit hole in the ground. Strange. Hobbits didn't like houses above ground. The furniture matched the walls, carved into intricate and beautiful shapes resembling certain creatures. In fact, they seemed to resemble creatures the four hobbits met on their journey. Treebeard was there, though what he would think of precious wood being used as furniture, Morwennar didn't know. Beautiful rugs adorned the floor, swirling in random but colourful patterns. Shelves with old and dusty looking books were placed here and there around the room. Comfy chairs were dotted around the place. The occupant of the chair opposite her still snored.

He stopped suddenly, and seemed to wake up; Morwennar watched him closely, uncertain as to what kind of person he was and how he would react to someone gliding around the room; then he mumbled something and sank back under the surface of sleep, starting to snore again after a few minutes.

She crossed over to him and examined his face quickly. Honest looking fellow. Most swindlers were honest looking, though. She turned back to the chair beside which she had put her belongings.

And gasped. Under the chair, a familiar looking skin bag peeped out.

So Derufin hadn't taken her money. She remembered now what had happened last night, being unable to obtain a room. The innkeeper had suggested that she sleep on a chair in the lounge, telling her that she could sleep there without receiving disapproval or charge, as she couldn't get a room.

So after buying a drink she had picked the chair she awoke on, gently kicking her money under the chair on the basis that no one would look for it there unless they knew where it was. She had temporarily forgotten.

Morwenna picked up her money and stuffed the bag and its contents into the larger one containing her clothes and wooden comb. She took this latter article out now, and began to run it through her extraordinary fire-red hair.

No creature in all Middle-earth had hair such as hers. It was the colour of live coals, glorifying her pale face. Her peircing blue eyes accentuated them both, and combined everyone looked at Morwennar twice, which was one of the reasons why she often wore her hood down low. Her name was Elvish, though she was a woman of Rohan. It meant 'Dark Fire Maiden', and she was aptly named.

OOC: I have to go now, but I will edit this yet again and follow her up to the attic, where she will be led by her curiousity and boredom, though, of course, always suspecting a trap, given her nature.

[ June 11, 2003: Message edited by: Bekah ]