The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Toby’s gold quickly disappeared into Snaveling’s tunic, and the Man was quick to assure the hobbit that the money was entirely safe with him – and at first, he even meant it. Buoyed by his conversations with Aman and Galadel, and floating as he was on the wings of a more manageable amount of drink, Snaveling was feeling better disposed toward the world and its peoples than he had in many a year. He settled back into the cushions of the arm chair, had another warming sip of brandy, and allowed himself the satisfaction of reflecting upon his newfound virtue. I will protect this gold with my very life he thought to himself, smiling at his goodness. I am a trustworthy man; and when Toby wishes me to pass it along to my good friend Aman, I will do so happily, and then Roa will see what kind of a Man I really am!.

The thought of Roa’s commendatory amazement caused him to sigh happily. He turned to Toby and saw that the hobbit had once again decided to rest his eyes…oddly enough, this seemed to entail a certain amount of snoring as well. Out of curiosity, Snaveling removed the money pouch and opened it again. There was indeed a lot of money in there. He shook his head and put it away, before helping himself to another sip of brandy. He allowed his mind to drift back to the scene in which he handed over the gold and Roa stood admiring him for his goodness. He smiled at this scene and looked over to the Ranger where she sat by the fire. She was quite fetching in that dress, and he smiled at that, too. But then it occurred to him how he must appear to her. He glanced down at his ragged clothes and poked his finger through the holes in his tunic. His boots were more patches than leather, and his hair had not been tended to in years.

His mind turned back to the pouch that lay against his heart. Once more he removed it and opened it. This time, he took out a single gold coin and held it up contemplatively before him. He took another sip of brandy and looked across the room at Roa. Her eyes met his and he smiled, but she frowned and looked away once more. Of course she avoids your eye, foolish Man! he cursed. You are appalling to her. She does not yet know the change that has been wrought in your heart; she thinks that you are still the wretch she met all those weeks ago! Well, time will mend that! But his eyes wandered back down to his clothes, and he was dismayed. I may have changed, but my appearance certainly has not. He weighed the gold coin in his hand and thought of the new raiment that it could buy him. For a moment he sat like that poised on the edge of uncertainty, weighing the coin in one hand, and in the other his certainty that Roa would never be able to look at him as anything other than as a vagabond and a thief until he did not appear so much like one.

He took one more sip of the brandy. Toby snorted loudly and started in his chair, nearly spilling his glass. Before the gentlehobit could see him do it, Snaveling put the coin into his own pocket.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow watched as a young hobbit, a rather short one at that, walked into the Green Dragon. She reminded her of herself almost of her, the first time she had came in, and tried to play her fiddle.

The young lass stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking quite clueless, and then she went and sat down at the bar.

Willow thought for a while. She knew what it was like to be new; to just sit there. And now she was more confident, though still quite shy. She breathed out deeply, and resolved to go and talk to this newcomer.

She stood up, and tucked her fiddle under her arm; abandoning her chair to cross the room.

Willow Overhill walked over; across the common room, and went over to the new hobbit girl. No one really seemed to notice her; she blended in so well.

She wanted to go and talk to the girl; her mind screamed out that she needed a friend, but her feet had other ideas. She tripped over a chair leg, just barely catching her violin as it fell, and taking the brunt of the collapse herself.

Willow collected herself, and blushed, embarrased, as usual. After completely collecting herself well enough, she walked over to the newcomer.

"Hullo," she said shyly. "I'm Willow Overhill. What's your name?" She smiled weakly, for she was shy for a hobbit, and disliked talking to strangers, though she had began to warm up to the Green Dragon. And yet she so wanted a friend.

She tucked her fiddle under her arm; held it closer, and waited for a response from the fellow hobbit girl, hoping that she wouldn't be too shy.

[Maeggaladiel]

Torlo Hillburrow sulked through the front door of the Green Dragon Inn.

"Green Dragon!" he huffed moodily to himself. "Of all the outlandish names. Dragons, in these parts! Harumph!" Walking inside, he was not much happier. A myriad of very unhobbitish creatures patroned this particular establishment, much to his displeasure.

He wouldn't have to be here if it wasn't for Marigold. Why did his sister Marigold have to go off and marry that lousy foriegn boy, anyway? There were plenty of fine young hobbit lads closer to home, that was for certain. If she had just chosen one of the local gents rather than run off with a hobbit from across the blasted country (or so it seemed) then Torlo wouldn't have to trek all across the Blasted Shire to attend her blasted first aniversary party. And he wouldn't have to stop at these blasted foriegn inns!

In all honesty, Torlo was rather nervous about staying here. Although he wouldn't admit it, possibly not even to himself, the sight of so many strange people frightened him. They were so... so... BIG.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Torlo walked to the bar, trying to look as tall and imposing as possible. This wasn't easy for a hobbit, and it in fact just pointed out his short stature even more. His brown eyes swept across the inn, taking in the patrons. A young hobbit lass, a Man or two, and several others. Not wanting to stare, Torlo forced his gaze to the bar. Blast. Even the barstools were made for taller races.

Pulling himself into one of the more hobbit-sized chairs, Torlo asked the bartender for a drink. He had a feeling he would need it.

[Mad Baggins]

Mira sighed. Toby had wandered off drunkenly and she was once again by herself. She looked about at the chatting, laughing patrons as the party went on. As she watched them enjoy the party, she noticed a young hobbit lass step into the Inn. She sat down on a chair, looking rather lonesome.

Well. Mira thought, It looks like I am not the only one here who is lonely for someone to talk to. She rose from her seat and stretched her legs, which were starting to fall asleep after being inactive for so long. She started to walk towards the lass when she noticed another young girl doing the same. This poor girl, however, stumbled over something on the ground and fell. Mira gasped, but the girl seemed all right when she got up. She walked up to the smaller lass and began talking.

Mira weaved through the crowded room until she reached the pair. She smiled at them and curtsied, saying, "Good afternoon, girls. My name is Mirabell Baggins, and I would be much obliged if you would chat with me a bit."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow turned around as another hobbit maiden stepped into the conversation. "Good afternoon, girls," said the newcomer. "My name is Mirabell Baggins, and I would be much obliged if you would chat with me a bit."

Willow smiled as she introduced herself. "I would be happy to have you join us, Mira." Then she stopped. "I can call you Mira, can I not?"

Then Willow remembered her manners. "I am Willow Overhill of the North Moors, and as for my companion..." She stopped, remembering that the smaller hobbit girl had not yet introduced herself. "Well, I'm afraid that I do not know her name... I'll let her introduce herself, I suppose."

She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling in the dim light of the inn. "And what brings you to the Green Dragon, Mirabell Baggins?"

Willow sat down on one of the stools, to await a responce from both of the two hobbits. And then something came to her mind. "And do either of you to play the fiddle?"

Her eyes sparkled; Willow had an idea now...

[Beruthiel]

Daisy grinned as she said hello and introduced herself to the two other hobbit lasses. At least she wasn't alone now but the problem was, she feared she would forget their names within a few minutes...'Willow Overhill, Mirabell Baggins...Willow Overhill, Mirabell Baggins...' She repeated over in her head while she continued to smile at the two hobbits. She was trying so hard to remember their names she only realised that Willow had mentioned something about fiddles.

Daisy's entire family played an instrument of some kind but Daisy had never stuck to just one. She'd tried the fiddle but her small hands found it tiring holding up the wooden instrument after a while. In then end, she gave up trying to learn an instrument altogether and enjoyed singing a lot more.

Daisy turned towards Willow and noticed the twinkle in her eye. She was obviously a music lover as well.
"I don't play the fiddle, but you look like a fiddle player. Give us a tune, after all, this is meant to be a party isn't it?"

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia, still sat quietly in a corner, drained her wine glass and stood up. She'd stayed here quite long enough, and she didn't see any point in staying longer than she had to. She really did hate parties.

Her green-blue eyes swept over the common room, taking in the three hobbit women by the bar and the other people still here, and pushed open the door to leave. Once outside, she found the great tree she had taken a liking to. It would usually only have taken her a moment to climb onto some of the lower branches, but she was wearing a dress, and the action took rather longer to complete. Finally she managed, the white fabric of her gown draping over a branch along with her feet. The evening breeze stirred her long hair, and the leaves above her moved gently too.

She began to sing, a beautiful song in her own elven tongue, that had been passed through the generations. Although many would not know what the words meant, they gave a sense of wellbeing. The party was gone from her mind, and there was only the melody and the words. She lost herself in her favourite song, the song she had sung all those years ago in Minas Tirith, as Elessar began his reign.