The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The night air came over Snaveling like a clean blanket, fresh and cool from having just been laid on the bed. The sounds of the party drifted out to him through the open windows, but out here the raucous outcry of joy was much reduced and more manageable. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smelling the cleanliness of the yard with its small copses of trees, and the well-tilled earth of the Shire. There was a stiff breeze from the West this night, and for a moment the Man fancied that he could almost smell the Sea, but he knew that was impossible. He had grown up on the shores of the Sea, and his first skills had been learnt on it. But it had been many years since he had seen her shining like gems in the morning light, and burning with her watery lights of infinite colours in the evening.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the stars. The Mariner was almost directly overhead, and so brightly did he shine that even without a moon Snaveling could see his own form lightly shadowed on the neatly trimmed grass of the yard. “Flammifer of Westernesse,” he muttered under his breath, remembering an old tale, long forgotten. “How long has it been, I wonder since I last looked on your cold beauty and did not curse it? So long have I walked in the dark, but now I feel the need for light.” He slid his hand into his pocket and fingered the coin that he had taken from Toby’s pouch. He felt an odd twinge at the back of his mind, but he shook it away. “Besides,” he said aloud, as though speaking with another, “Toby would not mind loaning me the coin!”

A small voice spoke out to him from the shadows, asking “Who’s there?” Snaveling spun about but the voice came from a small hobbit lad whom he’d seen loitering about the yard the past few days.

“It’s nobody,” replied Snaveling. “And who might you be? And what are you doing out here so late at night?”

The hobbit stepped forward into the light of the Star and replied eagerly. “Begging your pardon, sir, but please don’t tell my father on me. Or Miss Aman, either sir, if you please. She’s been told not to let me hang about here in the dark. My name’s Pimpernel Brandybuck, and I’ve just come by to have a look at the party.” He turned back toward one of the windows. “There’s such an awful lot of odd folk in there. From all over Middle-Earth and all! Why, there’s even Elves in there Sir. Elves!”

Snaveling could not prevent a smile. “I know, lad, I know. One of those Elves is even my friend.” The lad’s eyes grew wide and he demanded to know which one. Snaveling carefully pointed out Galadel and Pimpernel let out a low whistle. “Why I’ve seen her. She’s one of those Noble elves, or I’m a dragon.”

“Well, you’re not a dragon, but she’s not a Noble elf, either. She’s of great nobility, but if she’s anything she’s one of the Noldor.”

Pimpernel’s tone when he spoke next was full of admiration. “Why, Sir, you’re a regular Wizard for what you know.”

“Far from it,” Snaveling answered, suddenly bitter. “I know nothing.” His eyes had fallen on Roa once more. With a sudden determination he turned to the lad, holding out the gold coin that he had taken from Toby. “Here lad, take this and do me an errand. There must be a tailor hereabouts?” Pimpernel nodded dumbly as he took the money. “Well, good,” Snaveling continued. “I want you to run and fetch him as quick as you can. I know how late it is, but I daresay he’ll be willing to come out for that kind of money. Tell him that there’s a Man who wants a new set of clothes. They need to be handsome, but not too fine. Have him bring along some samples. When he arrives, tell him to wait for me in the stable and run into the Inn to let me know. Do you understand all that?” The boy nodded. “Good. Then off you go. If this works out, then I might have something for you, too!”

Pimpernel looked at the gold in his hand and just like that, was off running down the lane. Snaveling watched him disappear around the bend in the road before heading back inside to the light and roar of the party. He quickly settled himself down in the chair next to Toby’s and reached for his snifter once more. “Well Toby,” he roared out, loud enough to break through the gentlehobbit’s snores and bring him back to wakefulness. “You’re being a right bore, sleeping the night away. Let us talk about the joys of the simple life: food, smoke and friendship!”

[Beruthiel]

Daisy was rather dazed. Everything had happened so quickly. She'd made friends with three other hobbit lasses; Willow, Mira, and the newest one, Lily. Willow had played a short tune on the fiddle and Daisy tapped her fingers on the table continuing the beat. She knew the song very well, being in a family who all played instruments meant she knew almost every song there was out there to know. Before she could tell the others this however, the innkeeper introduced herself.

Daisy wasn't afraid of the woman or anything...she was just wary. What else is a hobbit supposed to do when they meet a big person for the first time? She nodded and managed to smile at the lady who offered them all a drink. Daisy nodded along with the suggestion of water, knowing very well that it was unlikely she'd get away with asking for anything stronger.

When Aman was called away by another customer, Daisy turned back to the little group of hobbitlasses. "Who hasn't heard that tune?" She said rolling her eyes. It was known as the walking song and she'd heard it thousands of times.

[*Arwen*]

Tiruviel entered the inn with a smile. Wow had it been a long time since she was last here. Must have been nearly a year. She had really missed this inn and the comforting atmosphere that it always brought with it.

Scanning the room for any faces that she knew, her face fell. Oh well she thought - a chance to make new friends.

She wandered over to an empty table and collapsed into ther chair. She had walked a long way and was shattered.

Maybe she would stay here for a while...

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Check your PM's, please.

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia shivered, the evening air had turned chilly. Her thin dress was no match for the breeze. Back to the party? the air there was warm at least, and she could sit by the fire. Or then again, back to the stables? Her other clothes were there, the warmer layers all in green, brown and grey. The inn seemed a nicer option, though she was quiet and not known to party.

She dropped off the branch, glad that the man and the hobbit lad had gone now, as her skirts billowed out like an umbrella. She giggled when she landed, how long was it since she limbed a tree in a dress? She chided herself for the folly of it. You should know better than to drop from a tree in a dress. Particularly at your age! She giggled at her own thoughts, and then settled her skirts and hair. With strangers she seemed quiet and cold, like a mountain stream in spring. Give her a group of friends, or solely her own company, and she relaxed and smiled a lot more.

Having settled herself and painted the calm facade back on her face, she headed towards the common room. The warmth hit her like a smack in the face, and she was glad for it after the breeze outside. The party was still going strong. Noticing a woman sat at a table alone, she decided to introduce herself. She wasn't usually so bold, but the woman looked like she would appreciate some company.

"My name is Elkamia." She said politely to the woman. "You look like you could do with somebody to talk to, if you'll excuse my frankness." She paused, her elven green-blue eyes intent as she waited for a reply.

[Maeggaladiel]

Torlo Hillburrow shouldered his pack and stood. He had tarried here long enough; Marigold would be expecting him at her party. In higher spirits than he had arrived in, Torlo left the Inn.

He turned around and stifled a yell, finding himself face-to-face with a huge, wolfy-looking dog. The mutt wagged his tail and licked Torlo's face, finding it the same height as his silvery muzzle.

"Arrow," commanded a voice from behind him. "Leave that poor fellow alone!" Arrow, as the dog seemed to be named, whined once but obeyed. The voice had come from a woman seated on a brown horse.

"Sorry about that," she said apologetically. "Arrow can't help himself sometimes." Torlo nodded, too shaken to speak. I'm safer back home! he thought as he walked away.

"Now look what you've done," the woman scolded, brushing a strand of brown hair from her face that had come free of her thick braid. Arrow didn't seem to mind the fact that he had practically shaken the lunch from the unfortunate halfling.

Arrow's ears pricked up, hearing the sound of music. It was coming from an inn, The Green Dragon, it seemed. He looked up at his mistress, pleading with his black eyes to stop for something to eat.

"I just fed you this morning," the woman grumbled, but the smell of roasting meat was making her own stomach rumble. She sighed.

"You're quite spoiled, for a guard dog," she said with a laugh. "But I'll stop for lunch, just this once. Then we're back on the road." The dog let out an excited yelp and bounded to the door in a whir of silvery puppy energy.

Eleniel (for this was the woman's name) led her horse into the stable and removed its heavy pack saddle. Its strange assortment of contents rattled noisily inside.

"Rest a while, friend." she told the horse. The beast sighed as the weighty saddle was removed, glad to comply.

Eleniel entered the inn, taking in the music and merriment. Arrow had already made himself at home, trotting here and their and licking unsuspecting patrons. She snapped her fingers and the dog bounded to her.

"Hello," she said to the inkeeper at the bar. "Fine day, is it not? Allow me to introduce myslef: I am Eleniel Goodchild of Laketown, purveyer of fine merchandise from across Middle Earth. Could I buy something to eat for myself and my canine companion? He eats anything." she said, remembering the leather glove that mysteriously disapeared two nights ago.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow grinned at Daisy. "Yeah, I know nearly everyone knows that song. It's one of our songs, after all. A true song from the Shire. And you would know many songs, if you sing. But not all songs have words."

She scoured her mind, searching for one without words. And one came to mind swiftly, as there was nothing to keep her mind befuddled: she had, after all, only been drinking water. Come to think of it, she thought, I haven't been eating anything, or drank anything really today.

She smiled within. It was ironic: her being a hobbit and all.

A more challenging, and dancible fiddle song came to mind, and she picked her fiddle off her knees, and stood up to play.

And she played. It was a faster song, at least by those she had heard play it, and was challenging as well. It was called Down Yonder. The song sounded as one that needed words, but she did not know of any. All she knew as the tune seemed to fit into the merry airs of the Green Dragon Inn.

And she played.

Willow let herself be conscious of nothing but her fingers playing over the strings, and the pull of the bow's horsehair threads. And there was nothing there but her, and her fiddle in the world that she had for herself, where she could play, and nothing stood between her and the violin.

When the song ended, she was able to slip herself out of her-- almost trance, one might say-- and sat back down.

"And do you know that one?" she asked, her face twisted into a wry smile.

[Kransha]

The gentle roar of Snaveling was more than enough to wake Tobias Hornblower. He was perked up within instants, color returning to his face, his bloodshot eyes widened orbs of light, and his features buzzing with movement. His drunken trance was lifted like a morbid cloud flowing away, leaving only a warmth and sunlight in the gentlehobbit’s visage. He heard the finality of Snaveling’s words and turned, sitting upright in his chair as he regained a finer posture.

“By the Shire, you’re right, Snaveling. I do apologize for being such a dreadfully dreary fellow, but I swear by all the pipe-weed in Longbottom that I’ll make up for it. Tonight is a night for partying, Snaveling, and I intend to show my worth on the subject. You and I are going to have something that, I believe has oft eluded us of late…fun. Yes indeed, my friend, we are going to make the best of this.”

The elder hobbit was about to rise, pushing up on the ample arms of the chair, but sagged back down for a moment and raised a halting finger before Snaveling could ascend. He reached slowly into the crenellated corners of his vest and coat, stabbing about in unseen darkness with his knobby fingers.

“But first, Snaveling, I must compose a brief letter. Just a moment, if you please.”

From his prodigious inner vest, Toby drew out a fine quill and a narrow scrap of parchment, which he lay down ceremoniously on the nearby table. He leaned over, hunching his back, and pulled a protective arm around to shield the letter from view. Even though he knew Snaveling was aware of the purse’s contents, he wanted the letter itself to be unknown. He quickly began slashing away at the parchment with the quill pen, dipping it curtly in an ink pan which he also produced, popping off the lid and setting it beside his newly arranged work desk on the table. He began to write.

Dear Miss Amanduial, most fair innkeeper of the Green Dragon,

As is my knowledge, over the course of the last weeks, you and the valiant denizens of the Green Dragon have gone through many hardships and woes, but have strived enough to get us all where we are this jovial night. Though I am ashamed to admit it, I have not been a great help during these hard times and, in fact, have acted more as a hindrance. I could merely apologize, but that would be no more than a weak gesture on my part. Instead, I have mustered together this, a gift, to be used however you see fit to help the Green Dragon in the future. The purse you hold contains no more and no less than eleven coins, one for each letter in ‘Green Dragon.’ I pray you take this gift and consider my debt at least partially paid. I wish you good fortune for as long as you require it.

Sincerely, Tobias Hornblower the Third

Concluding the note with his signature execution of a intricate flourish, scribbling his name in larger, heavily inked calligraphy and pulling up the quill swiftly. He admired the stylish cursive before rolling the note into a miniscule scroll and sealing it with a slim piece of crimson ribbon that he’d produced from one of his many pockets. After tossing the scroll in his hand momentarily, he took it between his index finger and thumb as he handed it, holding the note like a fine porcelain cup, to Snaveling.

“Now, good Snaveling, do me the great favor of giving both note and purse to Miss Aman, and then return so that we may begin reveling in the merriness and jollity of the surrounding festivities.”

[Firefoot]

Aman walked away shortly afterwards, and the conversation quickly resumed. Daisy directed her comment to Willow's question: "Who hasn't heard that tune?" Willow admitted it was well-known, and then she picked up her fiddle and played a lively tune. It was one of Lily's favorites, though she had never heard it played so well. Lily knew that she certainly couldn't play it so well and with such life. To Lily it seemed that the music came quite easily to Willow; she wished that she could play like that. Lily loved her fiddle more than just about anything, and enjoyed playing, but she had to work hard to get it right. Once she knew the song well it was easier, but she still had to think about it. Presently, the music stopped and Willow sat down.

"And do you know that one?" asked Willow. Lily thought for a moment before she answered. "Yes," she said. "I know the song. But I sure can't play it like that. Sometimes I have trouble with a part towards the end." She let the other three hobbits reply, and then she said, "Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I'm going to get my fiddle from my room." She got up from her seat and walked across the common room and up the stairs to her room.

"Now where did I put it?" she muttered. She had been in such a hurry to get down to the common room in the first place she had paid much attention to where she had put her things. Probably in a drawer somewhere, she figured. She went through the drawers and finally found it. She looked with pride on the fiddle for a moment. It wasn't the nicest one in the world, but it was it good condition and gleamed softly in the low light. They're probably wondering what's taking me so long, she thought smiling. I was only going to get my fiddle, afterall.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow smiled, taking Lily's comments as a complement. Lily excused herself to go and get her fiddle too, as she didn't have it with her at the moment, seemingly.

And that was true enough. She had only just came in when she had walked over, and introduced her to Mira and Daisy. Willow noted that Daisy had seemed a bit more wary around Aman, seemingly. And she had enough right to be. Wilow remembered the first time she had met with one of the big people...

Being hobbits, and all, it was... well, different than talking to other hobbits, that was for sure.

How ever far the road draws on,
Long and cold, when you are gone.

In darkened forest I shall wait,
For when you pass the secret gate.

Our starlit eyes shall meet again

The words that Mira had whispered quietly before playing her flute came to her mouth unconsciously. But Willow continued the song, with her voice and violin softly singing as one.

...Our starlit eyes shall meet again,
Beyond the mist, and beyond the rain.

The day draws near when as before,
I shall pass through the hidden door.

The road goes on; leads to the seas,
And back again, through the trees.

And by that hidden path, all elves pass,
Down to the fair seas of silver glass.

We shall meet again someday,
And may that day show no delay

The tune that Willow had fit to it was slower; it came to her as her music did: from the heart, from within. None had heard it before, it had came to her mind as the words to the song came also.

She hoped that Mira wouldn't mind, and that her tune was simple enough that Lily, Daisy, and Mira could pick up on as well.

She picked up her violin once more, and played the tune that she had created for the song of Mira's.

[Beruthiel]

Daisy flicked back her curly brown hair back behind her shoulders and, while she adjusted one of the pins holding the curls up, she scanned the room for the innkeeper. She was standing behind the bar and seemed to know that the hobbits were ready to perform. She was preparing for the the entertainment by getting out some more ale. Always a good way to prepare for anything in the Shire. The group of musicians had been joined by two elves, one of which was a flute player. This band was getting larger by the minute. Daisy was quite shocked by the two elves, mainly because she had no idea what to expect. She'd heard of elves being tall and beautiful but she'd majorly underestimated their beauty.

Both of the newcomers had commented on the hobbit lasses music and Daisy hadn't realised that people had been listening to them. The look in Lily's eyes suggested she felt the same way. She was quite please with herself and the group with the compliments but then a thought entered her mind.

"But wait, you haven't actually done anything yet have you?"

Daisy sighed to herself. It was the same sort of feeling she'd had just before she'd entered the inn earlier that night. Just when she thought she was getting people's attention, she realised it was only because of the talents of Willow and Lily that she'd been noticed at all. The little hobbit lass took a sip of her drink and swung her especially short legs under her chair.

She sat silently for a moment before realising how pathetic she looked, wallowing in self pity. Everything was happening so quickly she hadn't realised that she was getting quite tired. She managed a small smile at the elf sitting next to Lily with the flute and said a quiet 'Hello' to her.

"Dont worry Daisy," She thought, "Just wait till they see you dance..."

She hoped that she wouldn't regret wearing her sister's dress later, the one which was far too big for Daisy...