The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Firefoot]

Lily was smiling happily in the company of the other Hobbits. Marcho appeared to her to be in a much better mood than he had been yesterday; she supposed it helped that she understood his position better now. Blanco was ever his bold self, Peony their sister was sweet, and little Donnamira was absolutely adorable. And, of course, there was Posco. It made little sense to her, logically, that she could have fallen in love with a hobbit she had only met yesterday, but she knew that she had, without a doubt.

In the few hours since she and Posco had returned, there had been some idle conversation, and the time seemed to have flown by. And, oh, what a wonderful time she was having! It was not quite the same as her ride alone with Posco, but she did enjoy the others' company very much. Presently Blanco spoke up.

"Well, we have talked of a great many things and you two have said nothing of your ride. Come now, tell us of it!" Lily caught Posco's glance, and held it for a moment. He smiled slightly at her.

"It was wonderful," Lily began. She blew over the first part, because it had been rather awkward. Neither of them had known exactly what to say or how to act. "We rode leisurely for a while... and then we let our ponies out to a full gallop." A friendly race would have described it better, she supposed. Well did she remember the thrill. Pounding hooves, the wind whistling in her ears, and best of all, it had been with Posco.

[Nurumaiel]

'Yes!' Posco cried, that oddly bold look coming to his face, though he blushed slightly when he realized how loud his voice had been. 'Well, that is to say, it was quite fun.' He paused for a moment to glance at Lily. Seeing that she was smiling at him encouragingly, he went on. 'Oh, you should have been there!' He paused again, for he felt decidely that he was very glad his brother and friends had not been there. 'Well, I do mean, it was very enjoyable.' He coloured deeply. He was becoming confused.

Lily's eyes twinkled and she leaned over to whisper in his ear, 'Tell them about that poor fellow we almost galloped over.'

'Why, yes,' said Posco. 'There was a hobbit crossing the road with his geese, and he was crossing right in front of us. We couldn't possibly slow the ponies in time so we cried out a warning to him. He got out of the way, but his geese didn't want to move. At the last moment they flew here and there, squawking madly, with their feathers flying everywhere.' He chuckled, and Blanco laughed uproariously, slapping Posco on the back 'till he was almost choking.

When he had recovered himself, touching his shoulder tenderly, he turned to Lily and said, 'Tell them of the time we just nearly got over that little river because we didn't want to take the bridge.'

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is: Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, the Stablemaster (played by Envinyatar)

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.

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About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

[piosenniel]

It is late afternoon, edging onto evening at the Green Dragon Inn. Supper will be served soon, The fragrant scent of roast lamb with rosemary is in the air, to be served with boiled and buttered taters, and fresh, glistening peas from the garden.

Apple pie is hot from the ovens and just cooling for dessert.

The evening is a fair one . . . no chill breezes or hint of storm.

[Firefoot]

Lily had barely gotten over the delight of remembering that poor old hobbit with the geese when Posco brought up the river episode. She fought with her own laughter as she began to tell the story.

"We didn't want to take the bridge? More like the ponies didn't want to take the bridge. For some odd reason both of them shied away from it, and no amount of cajoling could get them over it. The little river wasn't very wide; a couple times my height at the most. So we heeled the ponies into the water, and wouldn't you know it but that narrow river had to be at least six feet deep! It just dropped off and suddenly there wasn't any sand under the ponies' feet any more. Then when we reached the other bank I nearly fell off Clover as he tried to scramble up the bank. By the time we were on firm ground again, we were positively soaked."

Now they were all laughing, and even Marcho had a few chuckles. Lily and Posco shared a look of common understanding. The others could laugh at their eventful ride, but only they had experienced it. There was a light in Posco's eyes that Lily had become familiar with over the course of their ride. When the laughter died down, Lily said, "Now you can tell them about the grumpy old farmer who set his dogs on us."

[Envinyatar]

Derufin had gathered his tools together along with the stack of shingles and the bucket of pitchy sealant he had been using on the roof. Only the roofing for the newly added room need be finished up on the morrow; for tonight he spread a tightly woven canvas over the new beams to protect the interior.

He was just coming down the ladder for the last time, the bucket of congealing tarry pitch in one hand, when he saw Miz Bunce come stamping up the narrow dirt pathway to the cottage, a look of determination on her face. Leaning himself against the ladder, he waved to her as she looked up at him. She nodded, the brim of her calico sunbonnet dipping up and down in acknowledgement of him.

But she did not stop at the foot of the ladder as he thought she might, to wait for him. Instead, she went directly into the cottage. And as he peeked through the window he could see her looking into the rooms as she called out in a questioning voice. ‘Master Banks? Are you here?’ A few moments later and he could hear the low pitched answer from Andwise and then the start of a conversation between the two Hobbits.

Ferdy came hurrying out of the cottage carrying his toolchest and began loading it into the small cart he had brought. Derufin secured his own materials and walked over to where the young man stood. ‘About time for supper, eh?! I was thinking I could smell the lamb roasting in the Inn oven while I was up on the roof.’ He cast an eye toward the cottage where Cook and Andwise were. ‘Shall we get them out here and walk over to the Inn with them?’ Derufin went on. The four other Hoobit lads had already gone on toward the Inn, their tasks done for the day.

‘I think we should go on and let them catch up,’ answered Ferdy. ‘Cook shooed me outside . . . said she had something of import to talk over with my Da. Business of some sort – she mentioned something about a cabinet in the kitchen needing fixing . . .’

The two plodded along slowly, leading the pony and cart along between them back toward the Inn. A cabinet! What cabinet was that needed repair? Derufin had been in the kitchen for breakfast just this morning. The cabinets as far as he could recall all looked to be in good working order.

Now, what was this all about . . .?

[Witch_Queen]

Adu sat there thinking about everything and her plans for the future. "What if Hama doesn't come back? What then?" Adu looked at the elf setting at a near-by table. Fáinu had returned. She smiled and stood up. "Its nice to see that you have decided to come back. So I hope everything between you and the dwarf went well." Adu figured that something wasn't right. For some reason the elf didn't seem himself.

She forced her thoughts to the back of her mind. She didn't need to worry about anything right now. "Fáinu so now what do you plan to do? Are you going back to Imladris or perhaps you will stay here for a while. I could use some company until my friend returns." Adu remembered the last person she had talked to while Hama was gone was her dear friend Jack. Even now she still coudn't forget the man that broke her already broken heart.

Adu's mind wandered inside her head. It didn't matter how much she tried to forget about her past it always seemed to haunt her. She knew she could rest easily now knowing that Dorian was dead. Perhaps some day I will feel worthy enough to leave these lands. Yet right now is a different story. How can I leave a land that still needs me. That is what I don't understand about my kind. Why leave a land that still needs the beauty of the elves. To me leaving is only accepting a death that will never come.

Adu blinked her eyelids and realized that she had drifted from reality. Her grey eyes rested on the figure in front of her. Adu reached out her hand and placed it on Fáinu's good hand. "So what are you going to do? Will you stay here and keep me company before I decided to return to my home in Rohan?"

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Adu reached out her hand and placed it on Fáinu's good hand. "So what are you going to do? Will you stay here and keep me company before I decided to return to my home in Rohan?"

Fáinu smiled and looked up. He knew that he could not hide anything from another elf, he knew that few could hide things from him and knew that all elves have a way of seeing thoughts.

"Indeed," Fáinu said at length, "Though I may need a horse soon, Dwaline, the dwarf, told me some things that unnerved me." He looked coldly out of the window, then shook his head, "But let us not speak of it, for it concerns far off lands and I wish for rest, if but for a little while."

Adu seemed happy and content; he saw that she enjoyed the company of another elf, as did he. So far he had had few dealings with elves, Dwarves and men had been who he had dealing with when he wandered about Rhovanion.

Fáinu sniggered and looked at Adu, "You would think the Dwarves would be happy with all that gold. But no, they want more and more and so delve themselves into trouble." he shook his head, smiling.

A hobbit stumbled passed pushed the door, little did he realise it needed to be pulled. The Hobbit began to be angered with the door.

"If you don't open up!" he slurred, "I'm going to get tough on you!" then another Hobbit opened the door from outside and the Hobbit fell back. "Dang doors, you have to put them in their place." he them hobbled out.

Fáinu smirked and thought it reminded him of several elves in Mirkwood. The wine from dale was not nearly as nice as that he had received here, but the Hobbits seem to need to drink a lot more before it had any effect on them.

"Where are your friends?" asked Fáinu looking back at Adu, "coming from Rohan? How long should it be before they arrive?"

[piosenniel]

It is late afternoon, edging onto evening at the Green Dragon Inn. Supper will be served soon, The fragrant scent of roast lamb with rosemary is in the air, to be served with boiled and buttered taters, and fresh, glistening peas from the garden.

Apple pie is hot from the ovens and just cooling for dessert.

The evening is a fair one . . . no chill breezes or hint of storm.

[starkat]

Gwenneth had been so deep in conversation with Ascasir and Isilme, that she hadn't realized that time was slipping away. With the smell of apple pie waifting in from the kitchen, Gwenneth took leave of her companions and headed for the barn.

She entered and spotted Elenath. The young elf maid picked up some grooming tools and entered the stall. Gwenneth greeted her mare and began brushing her.

[Firefoot]

"Tell me, Lily, a little more about your family, especially your father," said Posco. "Is he a kind sort of fellow? And what is he like as far as you are concerned?" Lily wondered where he was going with this. "Would he consider you too good to marry a poor lad and want you to marry to someone prominent? Because if he does... I could... introduce you to someone... prominent..." He drifted off, blushing. Suddenly, Lily thought she realized what Posco was trying to get at. Oh, Posco, dear Posco, don't you realize that it is you I love? she thought.

"Well," said Lily. "Perhaps I told you last night that I live with my aunt and uncle, and it is they that are primarily responsible for me. I have seen my real parents very little in many years, but I will tell you what I can. I certainly would not call my family rich, but we got on all right. My father worked hard at his store for what we had. My earliest memories are surrounded by love and laughter. On some nights my mother would get out her fiddle and play, and my father would dance with us children. There were six of us, myself being the third. When I was only seven, though, his store was burned down by a lightning, and with the exception of my next youngest brother and me, my family moved out to Archet where my mother's family lived. After losing everything, my parents were unable to support six growing children. My brother and I moved in with my aunt and uncle who had no children of their own. In the years since my father's primary concern for us - me - has been that we were happy, which I was. All I really want from life are the things I was raised with: love and happiness. And so far, I have found both. Wealth and prominence do not matter nearly so much."

Lily thought she saw relief etched out on Posco's face. She was glad. Sometime when she was talking the thought had crossed her mind that if she said one wrong thing she might end up putting a block between Posco and her, not by design but by something that might make him feel he was not good enough. She wished she could be more open, but there were too many people around, and she would not want to embarass him.

"I think that that is all you could want to know about my family. Maybe you will meet them eventually," said Lily.

[Nurumaiel]

Blanco was not listening to Lily's narrative of her family, for he was concentrating keenly upon something else. He knew his brother's mind and heart, and he knew what those questions meant. He had known since last night that Posco loved Lily, and he had resolved then to fight so he might win her himself. Oh, he had known that ride would create difficulties for him. Posco was growing bolder. Did Lily love Posco? That was the only thing that mattered now.

'Maybe I will want to meet them,' said Posco in reply to Lily. 'I feel quite certain that I will want to meet them sooner or later.' He blushed again, for he felt the eyes of all those at the table studying him (save Donnamira). 'That is to say, if they are as good and kind as you I would be delighted to meet them as well. I enjoy having kind friends...' He trailed off in confusion.

The scent of supper drifted in from the kitchen, and each hobbit drew in a breath and let it out slowly, and Blanco murmured reverently, 'Taters!'

Peony smiled at him and glanced out the window at the evening sky, and she wondered if her own mother were preparing supper. Her eyes went back to the faces at the table, and then they quickly flew back to the window, and widened. Blanco noticed this and observed her keenly. Her eyes dropped, some colour rose to her cheeks, and she was silent for a few moments while another friendly conversation was begun. Then at last she stood gracefully and said, 'Do excuse me, but I feel the need for fresh air.'

'Would you like me to go with you, Peony?' Blanco questioned. She shook her head and replied, 'No, I would not have any of you bothered at my expense. I am just going to take a little walk about the Inn grounds. I will be back before supper is served.' And she departed.

'I don't know if I have already asked you this, Lily,' said Posco after a momentary pause, 'but when are you leaving Bywater to go home?'

[Firefoot]

Well did Lily understand Peony's need for fresh air. After spending too long inside she often felt the same way. She was pulled back to the conversation by Posco's question.

"I am not sure. I left Bree with very few plans, but I expect that I will be leaving Bywater within a few days, though I may not go straight home," she said. Secretly, she had already made up her mind to travel through Buckland. She wasn't exactly sure what she would do there, but her mind was made up. Maybe if she was lucky she would see Posco, though she supposed the chances were rather slim.

"And you are leaving soon, too," she said sadly, though there was a hint of a question in the statement.

[Lalwendë]

Jinniver woke to the rich aroma of roasting lamb drifting up from the common room to her bed chamber. She rolled from the bed, and started to wash and dress in clean clothes for supper. Her clothes were grimy as usual, and she had more dirt than ever down her fingernails. She felt groggy and splashed her eyes with cold water, which made her start. The sun was setting and the fiery glow through the window lit up her loosened hair. She fluffed it out, pulling a face into the looking-glass, and then started to bind it back into tidy braids.

It had been a long day for her, in many ways, and when she had gone back to her bedchamber intending to wash, she had sat for a moment on the soft bed and had fallen asleep. She had met Mr Proudfoot in the morning, and then had been asked to plant a little garden for Derufin's bride to be. Then, of course, she had told the tale of her dark days in Bree. The telling of the tale had not been hard, it was the thought of telling it that was the worst thing, the fear of speaking those words aloud. And yet now she had related what happened all those years ago, she felt unburdened. She was no less angry about what had happened, but the anger did not grip her when she thought of it.

Jinniver felt as though a small part of her that was missing had been somehow returned, yet she felt a little worried that she may have frightened her new acquaintances with her story, even though many of those in The Shire would have much worse to tell; Jinniver was too wrapped in her own concerns to consider this. She grimaced as she thought of the good shire folk thinking her odd.

Once Jinniver had told her tale, she had taken an hour to inspect the garden beds which Derufin wanted planting. She had been surprised to find remnants of the old plants growing there, hidden in the weeds, and she had devised a planting idea which would use the existing plants, as she always thought it a shame to rip up a perfectly good, mature specimen. The soil was rich too, and she could see that there would be little problem in growing almost anything there.

After inspecting the garden and making her delivery to Mr Proudfoot's smial, where she had discovered Mrs Proudfoot was just as round and amiable as her husband, she had written to her father.

"Dear Father, I am well. I am staying at The Green Dragon Inn, a respectable place on the edge of Hobbiton. You might have heard tell of it before. My lodgings are clean and comfortable and the food is good, and the local folks are most friendly, not at all odd. I have been asked if I can plant up a little garden for some nice young folks who are to be wed, and so I must ask you if you can send me a selection of plants. I have written you a list and it is with this message. If you send them tomorrow, as soon as you have read this, then I will get them the day after. Ask young Ashwyn about them, she has these plants are ready in the nursery house. Let's hope you are not still abed when the messenger arrives.

“I will be staying for a few more days here, until I have finished this gardening job. I may stay longer if you will allow it, as I am getting lots of names and addresses for orders. Think of all you can do with what I earn here. That is as good as any of our fireside tales that you might be missing.

While I am away, tell Ashwyn to keep up her book-learning, and make sure to lock the kitchen door up fast. "

Jinniver felt as though she had been away from Bree for much longer than a couple of days, and when she thought of her father she felt nervous, hoping he was happy and safe. Still, she knew he would be glad to have her niece about the place, even if she was a little cheeky. And besides, she had reminded her brother to look in on them at least once a day. Pulling on her long tunic, she sighed, and then the smell of the roasting lamb and the thought of the good company downstairs took her out of the room.

[Witch_Queen]

It is nice to know that if the world was to end that hobbits would continue to drink and sing. There isn't much singing going on Middle Earth since the elves began leaving. Sad really when there is so much left for them to do. The wisdom of the elves is needed so much. Yet we cannot even tell. Adu couldn't help but smile at the drunk hobbit. It didn't matter how disgusting she thought they were, hobbits always made her laugh. "Its weird how no matter what a hobbit's spirit is something you can almost never take away. They always seems so happy even in depressing times. Fáinu, thank you for everything you have done so far. I don't know why I even should worry. Its not like there is a war going on." Adu sighed when she mentioned the word war. Not everything was going as well as she hoped.

In her mind she couldn't forget the words Aduthondiel the forgotten. To her everything would all soon be a memory. She would continue her immortal life and every time she should find happiness, it is always in men. She didn't know why she couldn't find an elf that stole her heart. Perhaps it was because of her father and the way he treated her. Adu didn't want to loose herself in thought so she needed to find something else to do. She looked down at her mug and noticed that it was empty.

Adu realized that she was like the mug. It was more of her life but still she felt empty inside. She decided that perhaps she would find some water or something besides ale. She remembered the last time she drank too much ale. That was the day Jack came back. "Fáinu, where do you plan on going when you decide to leave The Shire? Will you go back home or wander around searching for some sort of meaning." For some reason Adu was asking herself the exact same questions.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

He took her hands with an odd mixture of feelings, but the smile on his face betrayed none of his ambivalence. All Aman saw in that countenance was the joy of two friends meeting once again. He looked at her closely and noted that while she played at being the same woman he had come to know in the weeks after the fire, there had been changes in her since. Something had happened that had altered her perceptions of herself. Fitting he thought, that she should alter in her own regard, as I have. He wondered if the alteration had been a happy one.

None of this appeared in his face or manner as he answered Aman. “Indeed we do!” and he laughed in an easy manner. “First you must tell me how business has been for the Inn, and of my old friend Toby.”

At first the woman refused to answer and pressed Snaveling for more information of his travels, but the man remained steadfast in his desire to hear of the doings and happenings of the Shire. Bursting with impatience, the innkeeper allowed herself to be directed to a chair by the fire where she ran through, as quickly as she could, all that had happened at the Inn since he had gone away. About herself, however, she remained silent, a fact that did not pass Snaveling unnoticed. When she finished with the gossip she once more pressed him for information. “Where have you been?” she began. “Did you see the King, and how did he greet you? I can tell by looking at you that it must have gone well.” The unspoken question was clear: what did Elessar Telcontar do to you for your attempted murder of his kinswoman?

Snaveling’s voice was grave as he replied. “I do not know if it ‘went well’ for very little in this world does, but the result of our meeting was…satisfactory. Roa presented me to the King as I was. She related to him both my crimes and the claim that I made by virtue of my birthright. At first I was greatly afraid of him, for he was stern and mighty, and I was surrounded upon all sides by his people. Their attitude toward me was clear from the moment they heard what Roa had to say, and had it not been for the King I daresay I would not be here with you now. But he stilled them and descending from his throne took me in his arms and welcomed me as a brother, exclaiming that as the descendent of Ar-Pharazôn I was like him of the royal line of Numenór and therefore to be honoured as his kinsman.” He fell silent at the memory of that moment, for the surprise of it had never quite worn thin. “He then grew stern once more, however, and turning to the assembly he said, ‘I have welcomed this Man into my house and I accept his claim to the throne of Numenór as valid. Do not think, however, that by this I mean to relinquish the right by which I hold lordship of the Numenórean kingdom in Middle-Earth, for that was established of old as a separate domain by Elendil and his heirs. This Man holds the true title to the land that is lost beneath the waves. For that we must show him the honour that is his due.’ When I heard that,” Snaveling continued, chuckling lightly, “I nearly fell over with the terror of it all. Me a King?” and his laugh grew, “Me? A vagabond rogue from a lost corner of the world who had nothing to his name but the insults and disregard of all whom I’d met…it was preposterous. And yet, something in the way the King spoke of me made it real. I suddenly found myself in the midst of a people who regarded me as a great and powerful Man. Oh, they did not trust me, and I daresay there are many still who would be happy if I were to fall off my horse and break my neck, but so great is their love of their King that they were willing to accept his judgment in this.

“When the King spoke next it was to me, but he cast his voice so that all could hear. ‘But not for this alone were you brought before me,’ he said. ‘The crimes you have committed against my kinswoman Roa must be redressed.’ I trembled then, for I feared that he had recognized my claim only as a cruel prelude to my destruction. But the King is both wise and merciful – how greatly do I lament the words that I have spoken against him in the past, ignorant as they were. Rather than ordering my instant death he proposed an exchange of sorts. In return for remitting my sentence, I was to lay down all claims that I had to the throne of Gondor. I am sure that he did not fear any rebellion that I might pose, but I could tell that he wanted the matter of my lineage and of my claim settled finally, so that none would doubt where I stood. I do not want to be King, so I happily agreed to the terms and forsook my claim as loudly and as elegantly as I could.”

Aman could no longer contain her amazement. “So you are free, then!” she said. “The King has forgiven you!”

“Yes, he has forgiven me, and more. I told him of my people and of the difficult lives we lead upon the edges of his realm. He took pity on us and granted us in perpetuity the right to pursue our game, and live our own lives on the lands that are our own. That very day he dispatched ambassadors to my people with messages of good will and allegiance. At first, they were distrustful and wary, but when the sent envoys to the King I was able to meet with them and convince them of the King’s sincerity. There is still no great love between my people and the Gondorians – and with the Rohirrim, I am afraid, there remains great enmity – but my people now have a recognized land of their own, where they are free to live free from interference.”

“So all your dreams have come true,” Aman said. “Why then are you here? Why have you come back?” There was a note in her voice that caught Snaveling’s attention, and at it his heart failed somewhat.

He became reluctant and quiet, seeking comfort in the fire as he searched his mind for a response. Aman pressed him again. Not meeting her eyes, Snaveling said to the flames, “I have come in search of Roa. The King sent her back to the North soon after our arrival in Minas Tirith, and there has been no word from her in months. My heart fears what might have happened to her. I cannot return to my people until I have found her…”

[Nurumaiel]

The company walked in relative silence, and at Blanco started up a lively, pointless, chattering conversation, a conversation restricted entirely to himself. Lily and Posco listened, and Hal began to walk faster. Peony lengthened her stride almost to a run to keep up with him, and when they reached the corner of the Inn he began to run, and with a little gasp of surprise she followed him. When he came to the kitchen door he went in. Peony tried to smooth her somewhat ruffled skirts and said, 'Whatever are you doing, Hal?'

He looked desperately at her, the look of a little boy who knows he's done something wrong but saw no way to avoid it. He put a finger to his lips, and after a few moments they heard the loud voice of Blanco. 'Why, wherever have they gone? I'm sure they went this way! Why, what could have happened here? How could they have vanished?'

'Perhaps they went into the kitchen?' It was Posco's voice that suggested this.

'Impossible,' said Blanco, briskly dismissing the idea. 'Everybody knows that nobody is allowed to go into the kitchen except the Inn staff. Those who do - ' and his voice took on expression of mystery and dread ' - will regret it all their lives. So!' His voice returned to its usual jolly tone. 'Perhaps they went around the other corner. Let's go see!' Footsteps and voices alike slowly faded away, and Peony turned once again to Hal, her eyes demanding explanation.

'I'm sorry,' said he. 'I'm more than delighted to see your brothers, and to meet Miss Lily, but I was talking with you and I really must finish.'

'What more can be said? I tell you, Hal, I will not marry you until my father gives his consent. I've told you this nearly every day since you first asked me for my hand. I have not changed. True, I love you, but without my father's consent I will not and could not marry you. Please don't worry about it any further.'

'I can't help it,' said Hal miserably, and he opened the kitchen door. They stepped out into the sunshine again, but they went in the opposite direction that the others had gone. Peony walked in sorrowful silence at Hal's side, pitying him, as well as herself, with all her heart. He had not yet spoken in the beautiful manner he often did, but when he did he would be considered drunk by those more sensible and wiser hobbits. Oh, it was bitter that a hobbit could not appreciate beauty, and speak of the sunsets and rises, and of the water rippling in the pond, without everyone thinking he had taken too much to drink. What a foolish place the world was, that something so trivial as this would keep them apart!

But it did not matter much. She trusted that if it were meant for her to be his wife, some change would come across her father. She only hoped that no change would come upon Hal. She would never wish him to cease in those beautiful speeches he would make.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"Fáinu, where do you plan on going when you decide to leave The Shire? Will you go back home or wander around searching for some sort of meaning." For some reason Adu was asking herself the exact same questions.

Fáinu looked up at Adu, "I will perhaps return to Rivendel. Although, I have little to do there, save perhaps ride abroad with Ellodan's company. but I have not done that for many a long year."

Memories began to come back to him. The house of his brothers, welcoming him, the rejecting him. If only they knew me, then, perhaps, I would not feel so unwanted. Maybe, now I know their true faces.

"However," he continued at last, "If you so wish, I could stay here, at least until word comes of Hama. Perhaps then we can keep each other company." If anything, the latter was what he wished for, and had wished for since he was left alone in Dale. Few companions he had had, and walking for long seems hard on the feet, if you are alone.

He thought of times passed when he was at peace, seeing his future, wishing revenge on Smaug, then, he waited too long, and he was left cold and bitter. Not since that day in Dale had he been truly happy, until now. Adu was the only Elf, (Save Elrond) who had listened with compassion to his story and seemed to understand the trauma he went through. This made him feel much more at ease, he felt as if a large weight of regret had been lifted and he smiled.

"How dose one see the future?" he said, almost to himself, but he knew that Adu heard him, "before he left, Elrond said something to me, 'Fáinu, Smaug may be dead, and not by your hand, be not sour. When you can see the future, you will know that it happened for the greater good.', Still I cannot see what he meant. Perhaps, he means that when all has happened, I shall look back on it in retrospect. Who knows."

He knew he was being hypocritical here, he told her not to worry about such things, and here he was rambling on about it. He shook his head and looked back at Adu.

"Ah, don't listen to me," he said, "I go on about my problems, because I have a constant reminder." He refrained his glace from his right hand and instead looked Adu in the eyes and smiled.

Fáinu glanced out side when he thought he head hoof steps, but it was his imagination. He considered getting another drink, but did not; he felt that he should stay with Adu so that she did not feel that he was avoiding her, which he was not.