The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu looked up sharply, then he saw that it was Cree and he smiled. He shook the weariness from his head and opened his eyes as he could.

"I have not slept well for a long time," he said, "Save a few time when much ale has been drunk." he smiled as he jested. Cree smiled back and Fainu asked her if she wished for a drink. She nodded and he went to the bar for two, as he had finished his own.

He came back to the table and passed a medium sized wooden mug to Cree. It had a small green dragon carved into one of the sides and was considered by the Hobbits to be good craftsmanship.

"Dist thou sleep well?" asked Fáinu remembering his manners, "and is Hobbit hospitality as well to do as the tales tell?"

He sipped his drink almost as if he had forgotten all that had happened the previous day, almost as if he was back in mirkwood when they would sit together and talk as old friends.

[Envinyatar]

‘What a fool I’ve been! Here the sun’s come up and I’ve not had a wink of sleep.’ Falmar had snorted at this statement, shaking her head as if to agree with her rider’s assessment of himself.

Derufin had ridden all night. And ‘Falmar his willing accomplice. The grey horse had been glad to go tearing down the lanes and across empty fields, mane and tail streaming back in the wind of her own passing. Aimless at first, they headed east on The Great Road, then circled round until they had come near the little path that went up toward the old Hobbit’s house where Zimzi had gone to stay. But it had been dark, no lights within when he’d crept up to little windows at the rear. He hesitated to knock on them, not knowing which room was the old Hobbit’s and which was his Zimzi’s. Instead, he’d turned his mount away and let her have her head.

Now morning had come and Famar had found her tired way back to the Inn. Derufin had toweled and brushed her, then left her with clean water and a rick of sweet hay with alfalfa. Tired himself, he’d gone straight to his room, intending to throw himself on his bed for a few moments’ rest. Someone had put a small bouquet on the table by his bed. He picked up his waterglass, now vase, and brought the fragrant blossoms to his face. The sharper husky-sweet scent of rosemary tickled his nose. He sneezed, shaking the posy a bit as he did so, and something fell from it onto his cot. His fingers turned over the little piece of jewelry, feeling the smooth and rough surface slide between them. Mother of pearl! Zimzi’s brooch! She’d been here and he’d missed her!

A laugh welled up and burst out into the room. They must have passed each other at some point, each intent on their own little self-set task. With a continued chuckle, Derufin plucked a sprig of the flowering rosemary from the posy and tucked it into the top button hole of his leather vest. A little of the weariness had left him at the thought of dear heart having come to see him. He popped the brooch into his vest pocket with a smile.

And with a somewhat lighter step, he made his way to the Inn to break his fast with Cook’s good food and many cups of strong sweet tea to fortify himself for the day.

[Arry]

Andwise nodded his head at Derufin as he entered the common room. The man sat with a heaping plate of eggs, fried ham, and thick slices of toast slathered with butter and jam. He ate with a certain gusto, pausing now and then to take great gulps from his mug of steaming tea. The Hobbit smiled a bit at the picture as he approached the table where Derufin sat. Derufin, his mouth full of toast, pushed out a chair for the Hobbit with his foot and gave a brief nod of his own toward it.

‘You know, you keep tucking into your food like that and the lads will have you entered in the pie-eating contest at the Spring Faire!’ He looked beneath the table at Derufin’s boots and tapped them lightly with his toe. ‘Boots still, eh?’ He grinned widely at the man who bore a perplexed look on his face. ‘The day I find you with bare feet, I’ll know for sure you’ve turned into a giant Hobbit!’

Derufin put down his fork and laughed at the gentle joke. He waved then at someone across the room, motioning them to come over. Andwise turned to see who their companion might be. It was Ferdy, heading for the kitchen as his father had instructed; his tool box gripped in one hand, banged now and then against his knee. ‘The lad’ll not be joining us for breakfast,’ Andwise said to Derufin, who frowned as Ferdy waved back, but then disappeared through the kitchen’s door. ‘Mistress Bunce has plans for him this morning,’ the Hobbit went on.

‘That cabinet,’ returned Derufin. ‘Ferdy said something about it needing fixed.’ The man drummed his fingers lightly on the tabletop. ‘Though for the life of me, I can’t recall it being broken. I’m sure I would have noticed it.’

Andwise gave the man a half-smile and raised his brow slightly. ‘Cook’s plans go beyond a broken cabinet today,’ he said cryptically.

Buttercup had drawn near, wanting to see what the Hobbit would like. He could see her pretended nonchalance at overhearing the conversation and he gave a wink to Derufin. ‘Nowt for me, Buttercup,’ he said, sending her on her way. ‘I’ve had my breakfast already at home. Just come to pick up Derufin here. Got things to talk over . . . concerning the cottage and such . . .’ Buttercup nodded, giving a little sniff of disapproval at being sent off without hearing the particulars.

The Hobbit accepted a cup of tea from Derufin’s pot and drank it slowly as the man finished up his meal. The two then left the Inn making their way toward the cottage, waving as they exited to Buttercup. They walked along in comfortable silence, enjoying the fresh sights and sounds of the new day.

‘Partial to rosemary, are you,’ asked Andwise, noting that every so often the man’s hand strayed to the small sprig in his button hole. His face softened at a forgotten image and he spoke low. ‘My dear wife used to put rosemary in bottles of oil. She’d use a little each day to tame her flyaway curls. Even now I can remember the scent of it as she nestled against me . . .’

Andwise looked into the distance for a brief moment and took a deep breath. Then, gathering his thoughts about him again, he kept silent for the short way left to the cottage.

[Lalwendë]

Dressed in her crumpled clothes with her hair carelessly knotted back, Jinniver slowly walked across to the stables. Her head hurt and she felt grumpy, and she thought the sharp shock of the cool morning air would do her some good. She needed to see to her horse and let him out into the paddock for some exercise, but more than this, she needed to get out of the inn for a few minutes as the air indoors was still heavy with the smell of ale and pipeweed and she’d had more than her fill of these things last night.

She spent some time grooming her old cart horse, Nutkin, and muttered to him as she brushed his coat. The horse responded by nudging her affectionately, which helped to elevate her poor spirits. By the time she took him out to the paddock her only ailment was the sore head.

Jinniver’s spirits had picked up but soon she began to feel guilty as she thought of her behaviour the night before. She had been impolite in taking the money from Snaveling. The ale was to blame, she knew, but it had been her who had drunk it and this was no excuse. She frowned with frustration as she thought of what she had done. She wished she knew some way of leaving Snaveling the money he had given her for the pipeweed, but she did not want to face him, and she did not know which was his horse or which was his room, or she would have surreptitiously placed the money in the saddle bags or under his door. She stood and bit her lip anxiously, a little afraid of going back inside the inn; if he was in the common room then she would feel ashamed, and she did not want to return the money directly to him.

As she stood there agonising, Jinniver noticed Andwise and Derufin leaving the inn, about to start work, and she realised that she ought to be thinking of getting some breakfast before starting work. She headed back towards the inn, and the thought of work helped clear her mind. She decided to leave the money with a note of apology for Mr Snaveling; she could leave it on the bar where one of the staff would pick it up and pass it on to him.

“And while I’m about that task,” she thought, “I will write to my niece and make sure she knows to keep herself out of mischief.” The memory of the dream was also troubling her.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger rubbed her eyes sleepily as cook took the last pan of iced sugar buns from her and put them on the sideboard to be scooped out onto platters and passed round for second breakfast along with wedges of apple and creamy yellow cheese. ‘You’ve done a good job here, lass. Now take this mug of tea and a bun for yourself and go out to the garden for the rest of the morning.’ Ginger yawned widely, having gotten up early to help with the baking, and shook her head ‘yes’ at the directions.

A mug of tea sweetened with honey and lightened with cream and two buns bursting with fat raisins accompanied her out the back door. She could not help but hear the sound of a familiar voice as she stepped out onto the little landing. Ferdy, it was! Just as Cook had promised. She crossed her first two fingers as best she could between the handle of the mug and the mug itself, and screwed her eyes shut tight for a moment, making a quick wish that all would go well. A loud Ahem from Cook urged her off the landing and through the dusty back yard toward the garden.

An upturned bushel basket served for a seat as she sat down to have her snack before starting work. The bees she noted as she surveyed the garden were already hard at work. They poked their furry little noses deep into the flowering vines and bushes, dragging their fat, yellowed legs from blossom to blossom as drank deep of the nectar. And they hummed all the while, making her smile as she wondered if it were some sort of happy song they’d all learned together as children. Humming herself, her drink finished and the major part of both buns, she licked her fingers clean of the sticky frosting and went to see about the potato mound at the north end of the plot. Cook had been very particular about her heaping up the mounds of straw just so, for the taters to grow in and be plucked out easily. And after that would come the weeding and spading of the little herb plants, followed by the never-ending picking of the beans. And then lunch! Her mind working over the possibilities for that meal, Ginger began taking up great handfuls of straw from the nearby pile to work in about the tater plants.

Her cup and the morsel of bun she’d left by the basket were being worked over themselves. The ants had made a quick march to lap up the sweet sticky fluid in the bottom of the mug, with some of the more enterprising and stronger carrying off bits of the bun back home . . .

[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)

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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.

[Witch_Queen]

"Fainu, I am not afraid of what death my come upon me. I don't care what fate has planned for me. Just as long as I am with you when that day comes. The cursed must stay together." Cree laughed at the thought of curses. She didn't know why. For some reason it seemed almost impossible that her curse could become her blessing.

She could hear the hobbits of the inn already stirring about. It amazed her how much she had actually missed being around her own kind. Most of all she missed being around Fainu. She missed talking to him and most of all she just missed everything about him.