[Aylwen Dreamsong]

There were three ravens sat on a tree,
Down a down, hey down, hey down
They were a black as black might be,
With a down.
The one of them said to his mate.
"Where shall we our breakfast take?"
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.

Down in yonder green field,
Down a down, hey down, hey down
Their lies a knight slain under his shield,
With a down.
His hounds they lie down at his feet
So well they do their master keep.
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.

His hawks they fly so eagerly
Down a down, hey down, hey down
No other fowl dare him come nigh,
With a down.
Down there comes a fallow doe
As heavy with young as she might go.
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.

She lifted up his bloody head,
Down a down, hey down, hey down
And kissed his wounds that were so red,
With a down.
She got him up upon her back
And carried him to earthen lake.
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.

She buried him before the prime,
Down a down, hey down, hey down
She was dead herself ere even-song time,
With a down.
Eru send every gentleman
Such hawks, such hounds, and such leman,
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.


The White Horse was alive with the beat as the minstrels finished their song. The patrons cheered approval and lifted their sloshing mugs in praise to the musicians. Aylwen clapped along with the rest of them, after helping one half-asleep boy to find his mother.

Aylwen had so far enjoyed the night past little snags and troubles. Aylwen thought Bêthberry had seemed all too kind with her welcoming speech, but deep down Aylwen appreciated the Innkeeper's kind words. The new assistant's slight absence had been for family matters, including much visiting and reminiscing involving a certain inn called the White Horse.

"Good to see you getting some meat on your bones!" Aylwen called to Tar, who was helping himself to some of Froma's salmon stuffed potato skins.

"Good to see I did a better job than you would on the floor!" retorted Tar cheerfully. Aylwen chuckled and sat down next to the old friend for a moment.

"It is a good time for some story telling," commented Aylwen, sneakily taking one of Tar's parsnip patties. "How about telling me the tale of your sickliness?"

Before Aylwen could continue further on the conversation, something tugged at Aylwen's skirts. Looking down, Aylwen could see a little girl who looked about five or six pointing angrily at another girl nearby.

"She took my cherry cobbler!" the first girl complained, whining as if she was too tired to pursue the matter further without help.

"I did not!" cried the other girl in defense, and Aylwen lifted a brow and shot a look at both girls that silenced them.

"I didn't see what happened. However, I don't like tattle-tales or thiefs much. Why don't you two just call it even, and see if one of the kitchen help will get you both new desserts?" Aylwen suggested, and the girls slowly nodded and stalked off towards the kitchen. Aylwen stood from her spot and rustled Tar's hair as she left the table, walking over to the children's table.

"Would you all like to hear a story?" Aylwen asked, eyeing each child at the table in turn. Some of them looked very tired, others looked alert and awake as if trying to hid their exhaust. Aylwen recieved a reply of weary nods and a chorused "Yes."

"Good. A long time ago, there was a young girl who desperately wanted to be a fiddle player. However, every time she tried to play her violin she would put her fingers on the wrong string or spot, making for a horrible sound. The old master minstrel took pity on her and gave her a magic bowstring which cured her of her affinity to play the wrong notes.

"But on the night of the big performance the minstrel company was going to play in front of the king, she left her magic bowstring at home! Without it she had to borrow a practice bowstring and she would play all the wrong notes again. That, children, is when the master minstrel told her that they weren't magic at all! The fiddle player got her confidence back and played wonderfully ever after."

The children clapped and some sighed, but Aylwen could not tell if it was from sleepiness or like of the story.

[ July 09, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]