[mark12_30]

Mellon

Night slipped by, and morning approached, but the Inn was still dark and quiet when the young blacksmith from Gondor rose, gathered a towel, a change of garments, and slipped out of the building. He went to the nearby river, washed himself and the clothing that he had slept in, dried and dressed in the clothing that he had brought, and hung the rest on nearby branches. Then he stood, silent and still, gazing northward, and waited and watched while the sun rose.

As the town began to stir, the young blacksmith watched the Inn, and when it became busy again, he approached it. His refined manner belied his rough hands. His neglected, shaggy hair was now combed back, held by a thin leather band; by the blacksmith's mien the headpeice might have been golden. He entered slowly, and looked for Bethberry; not seeing her, he quietly stepped out again, and waited, gazing ever northward.



Mellon-Amroth
Eothain stirred in his dreams, his eyes darting from side to side beneath their lids. His lips moved a little, and he murmured slightly.

As he dreamt, a tall elf-lord faced him; regal, golden-haired, powerful, and perhaps a little frightening. Eothain 's lips tightened, and he stood taller, stiffening. You need fear no man, he thought to himself.

"A good morning to you, " Eothain said.

The elf-lord nodded slightly. "The dawn promises to be bright; may your future be like it. Tell me, where is Bethberry? I require her presence."

Eothain 's eyebrows went up, and he shrugged. "She should be up at dawn, " he said.

"Bring her to me when she has risen, " the elf-lord replied.

"Very well, " Eothain answered, glad that Bethberry was a generally agreeable sort. The elf-lord faded from view, and Eothain struggled out of the dream and into the dawn.

Frowning, Eothain rolled over and sat up. It was morning. He got up, dressed hurriedly, and went to find Bethberry. He could not find her. He knocked on the door to her room, and there was no answer. He went to find Aylwen.

"She has left me in charge, " Aylwen replied. "I do not know on what business she travels, but she has indeed departed."

Mellon-Amroth

Eothain went looking for the tall elf-lord, but found only ayoung Gondorian man ligering outside. "Where is the Innkeeper?" he asked Eothain.

Eothain shrugged. "She is gone; on travel, they say. Where is the elf-lord?"

The young Gondorian man raised an eyebrow, but otherwise made no sign, holding Eothain's gaze.

"Answer me, " Eothain said impatiently.

The man frowned, his eyes hardening. "Your impertinence does your town little honor," he said, and after a moment he dismissed his displeasure. "It matters little. I must find a horse. In whose care was the Inn left during the Innkeeper's absence?"

Eothain 's jaw dropped. "What do you need a horse for? And why do you think we'd give you one?"



Aylwen Dreamsong

Afternoon had faded into night, and night had faded into a bright morning with no consequence, only indifference. Aylwen had stayed in the main hall the entire night. She'd taken the keys and was finishing papers at one of the tables the night before, and as the hours had worn on Aylwen gradually became more and more tired. Before long, Aylwen had fallen asleep at the table with a candle still burning and her coffee still steaming.

When she awoke the next morning, it was to the chatter of little birds outside and the recently risen sun streaming through the window into her eyes. Her coffee was cold and the candle had burned out silently, leaving beads and drizzles of wax on the table. Aylwen groaned and cleaned up the messes just as the maids and patrons began waking up and leaving their rooms. Eothain was one of these workers, and he came down quite feverishly as he stopped only to ask Aylwen where Bethberry was.

"She has left me in charge. I do not know on what business she travels, but she has indeed departed-" Aylwen supplied, wondering about the urgent tone in Eothain's voice. Aylwen was about to ask if she could do something in Bethberry's stead, but Eothain was off and outside the second Aylwen took a pause for breath. Aylwen stopped before bothering to speak and sighed instead, getting back to work.

Things were indeed becoming quite strange around the inn, or so it seemed to Aylwen. A fire burned the stable to the ground, Bethberry had up and left with little prior warning if any, Eothain was beginning to act strange, and all in all things were not normal around the White Horse.

The volunteers that had helped the day before to start rebuilding the stables started getting ready to continue their job. One man left to go find Talan, but Aylwen insisted that the builders go on without him, just in case he'd be gone for most of the day or if the man could not find Talan. Taren was hesitant, imagining the arguments and debates that would ensue without Talan to guide and lead, but dismissed this and went out to help build.

littlemanpoet

Ædegard walked into the inn and headed straight for the innkeeper at the bar. He didn't exactly want to be there, but he had made a promise. "Mellon will need a friend." Why me? was the question that kept playing through his mind. I'm just a wheelwright. Sure, Mellon was friendly enough during the snowball fight, but his illness and the strange things he had been saying had set Ædegard's teeth of age. Promises were to be kept, however, so he leaned on the bar, wondering what to think of everything.

"Good morrow, Aylwen. Do you know if Mellon is awake? Does he remain ill? I-" he looked away and coughed, embarrassed "-I am asked to look after his wellbeing."

Aylwen Dreamsong

"Good morrow, Aylwen. Do you know if Mellon is awake? Does he remain ill? I -- I am asked to look after his well-being," Aylwen looked up at the man before her, lifting a brow in confusion. Things were getting strange around the Inn, and they got stranger every time Aylwen stopped to point it out to herself. But the Assistant Innkeeper pushed these thoughts away for a moment and put her attention back on her inquirer.

"Excuse me? What are you talking about? Mellon?" Aylwen spoke for clarification, and the man rolled his eyes at her discreetly. Aylwen continued on anyway. "Please explain and maybe I will be able to help you find this...Mellon."

"There is a young, sickly blacksmith of Gondor upstairs. Bethberry said she was taking care of him!" the man exclaimed frantically, and Aylwen struggled not to smile at his tone. Then Aylwen calmly explained that Bethberry was out at the moment. The man rolled his eyes. "That's not the point. I just wanted to know where Mellon was and if he was still sick!"

Aylwen sighed and checked the listings of rooms for a Mellon. Sure enough Bethberry had left a little note about which room Mellon occupied. Aylwen led the man upstairs and to the room, using the keys Bethberry had given her earlier before she'd taken off. Unlocking then opening the bedroom door, Aylwen and the man looked in to find no sign of any occupant. Aylwen sighed and led the man back downstairs.

"Maybe Eothain knows where Mellon is," Aylwen consoled to the man, who didn't really seem to care about . Aylwen went to the front door and opened it to the fresh morning. "Yes, Eothain knows everyone..."

The man who'd asked for Mellon gasped and whispered lightly, "Mellon!"

Yes, things have become thoroughly confusing here at the White Horse, Aylwen thought, and not for the first time.




Mellon- Amroth

The young blacksmith surveyed the group, and turned to Aylwen with a nod. "Greetings, madam; may your joy outshine the rising sun." He then looked at Ædegard, and the right corner of his mouth curled upward in a slight smile. "Again we meet, Ædegard."

Ædegard coughed. "Mellon-- how did ... how are you feeling?"

The smile broadened. "I am feeling well... Friend, " replied the blacksmith, and his eyes twinkled merrily. "And you? How are you feeling?"

Ædegard blushed. "I'm fine. Listen, Mellon. Do you remember where you are from? Have you remembered your name?"

"Ædegard, my Friend, I had not forgotten it; not today, not in many centuries. But it seems that many others have. I had often heard the memory of men was not like the memory of the elves. Nevertheless, Amroth I was, and Amroth I remain, whether men remember it or not." Despite his wry tone, he smiled. The young man did not trust him, but he liked Ædegard nonetheless. He wondered why.

Aylwen curtseyed, looking uncertainly from Eothain to Mellon. "Good morning, Amroth... sir, " she said, hesitantly.

He returned his gaze to her. "Where is Bethberry? I desire to speak with her."

"She has departed, lord, " replied Aylwen, "and I am left in charge of the Inn."

"Bid her farewell for me; alas that I did not waken ere she departed. Nevertheless: I require a tireless mount; pray see to it, lady."

Aylwen's jaw dropped.




Aylwen Dreamsong

"Wait a minute. The Elf-Lord is tall and yellow-haired. I've seen him. This-- this upstart is not the elf-lord. He's up to something; he must be. He's just trying to steal a horse." Eothain cried, and Aylwen sighed before looking over at the man called Amroth...what a name...and smiling kindly.

"It does not matter if he were trying to steal a horse or not, Eothain." Aylwen murmured softly, looking over her shoulder at the construction going on behind the group. "For we lost all horses belonging to the Inn during the fire two days previous. If Amroth should be requiring a horse, he shall not be getting it from us, I fear..."

Eothain smiled a satisfied grin for a moment.

"That does not help me much, Miss," Amroth persisted, glancing at Eothain but otherwise ignoring the stablehand. "Perhaps you can redirect me to someone who might have a horse that I might use."

Eothain opened his mouth to protest again. Aylwen hushed him and turned to Amroth. "I shall see what I can do." Aylwen led the men inside and to the counter where the ledger was. She flipped through the pages. "Perhaps one of our patrons would be gracious enough to lend you their horse. Perhaps you could see another stabler in town. However, if a tireless mount is what you are seeking...I apologise sincerely, for you will not find it here."



Mellon-Amroth

The young blacksmith nodded to Aylwen, and turned to Eothain.

" This morning you saw an elf-lord in your dreams, did you not?" Pressing into Eothain's mind, Amroth gazed at him, and thought, "You see, young one, it is indeed I. "

Eothain took a few steps backwards, eyes widening.

Amroth began to release his mind. "You see that I bear you no ill will. But do not mock where you have no understanding, young one. Perhaps my looks belie my age? Yet I knew your ancestors in their ancient homes, along the banks of the river." He withdrew sadly from Eothain's mind. He turned to Aylwen. "Lady, if there are no horses to be found hereabouts, then I must proceed northwards on foot, and all the sooner. For I have need of haste." He bowed, and gestured towards the river. "The garments loaned to me by Lady Bethberry hang upon the banks. Give her my blessing. And now farewell."

And with that, he nodded to each in turn, and with shining eyes and head held high, walked northwards.

Ædegard said, "Wait. No supplies? No food, no blankets, nothing? You are crazy. Mellon, wait. Mellon?" He hesitated, watching the young blacksmith walk away.