The Vineyard Tavern

[Esgallhugwen]

As they walked hand in hand down the stairs to the common room Thalinar lowered his head and kept close to the shaded places, mostly corners. A single nod of his head sent the young girl off towards the kitchen to fetch some bowls of hot stew.

Thalinar shook his head, disgraced by the actions he had to take to see that he wouldn't end up confronting the maiden, Ædhral, again. Ærosylle flitted back to him as fast as she had left, like some Fairy in a children's story Thalinar thought amusingly, she seemed to have that way about her.

"Why do you hide?", the question was innocent enough, but Thalinar was bothered by it none the less. He looked at her wearily and sighed. Gratefully taking the hot bowl of stew from her, "perhaps we should sit over there first", he looked across the room at the far corner, she turned and nodded her head.

They walked casually over to the table, Thalinar keeping a look out for Ædhral, and Ærosylle tip-toeing around the 'grumpy' board. Finally when they sat down he looked at the girl and smiled weakly, "I'm afraid that its a rather embarassing story...."

[Beserker_Warrior]

Umaviel walked into the Vineyard Inn looking for a nice cool drink of wine. He had travelled a long way to get here.Umaviel was 7,000 years old, a great warrior of the Sindarin elves and he was once a lord of Gondolin. Umaviel was a tall, kingly looking elf from Rivendell with long black hair. He had come here because had heard that the Goblins of the Misty Mountains were coming this way.This strange news was told to him by Gwahir, Lord of the Eagles of the Misty Mountains.Elrond had advised that he should try to find out as much as possible about the movement of the goblins. Umaviel did not doubt Elrond and so he went.

The inn was located near Laketown. It seemed nice and joyous though not nearly as nice as Rivendell. "Innkeeper, I would like a pint of wine please," said Umaviel. He needed this because it was a chilly day outside and the wine would raise his spirits." There you go. What brings you here, we don't get many of the fair folk here anymore?" replied the innkeeper. " I am here to find out the truth in rumors that I have been hearing of about the goblins of the Misty Mountains. Supposedly they are on the move." answered Umaviel. "Thank you for the wine," with this Umaviel turned and walked to a table on the far side of the inn.

[Nerindel]

Stoney’s soup was good if not a little too spicy for Ædhral. The others seemed to enjoy it immensely, especially cook, which could only be a good sign. She let Rochadan try hers that he too could offer his opinion. “Hmm very good!” he said nodding his head in approval. A knowing smile meant only for Ædhral spread across the stable masters prominent features, he knew she had not the taste for spicy foods, but also did he know that she would not say so. Especially with the proud and elated smile of satisfaction beaming on the dwarves face and he was right! With an ever pleasant smile and a nod of her dark head she thanked Stoney for the soup and told him that she was sure the customers of the tavern would be glad of such a warm and hearty soup after a hard day’s toil.

The conversation over lunch was a mixed affair with several different discussions going on at once, beginning with Stoney relating how he came to be in Esgaroth? and that he did indeed come from the lonely mountains. Then he and Nell discussed the tavern, the town and food in particular the cooking of, with Finian and Rochadan adding their comments here and there were they saw appropriate. Ædhral however had the attention of Sallie as she told her eagerly of Andhun’s singing and the song of the young woman Rochadan had brought to their table, Earcwen had sung for them, but after a time the stable masters daughter became sleepy and nestled herself into her fathers lap leaving him to pick up a conversation with Earcwen.

Ædhral sat back and listened watching the faces of her friends as they enjoyed each others company. When living with her grandfather before the destruction of lake town she had often wondered what it was like to be part of a large family and now as she sat watching her friends she thought she knew, this was her family and she was happy to be a part of it and share in their lives. A warmth of contentment settled over her heart which showed in the warmth of her smile and the twinkle in her eye, but as she looked over her family she noted that two where missing. Kannah and Ærosylle! Suddenly awakened from her reverie she sat up straight.

“You must excuse me, for Kannah has been on her own too long and will be most aggrieved that she has yet not been introduced to our dwarven friend.” she said nodding politely as she quickly excused herself.

“Wait I will come with you!” Finian said wiping the last of his bread across the bottom of his bowl and popping it hastily into his mouth as he rose. “Excellent!” he murmured again for about the fifth time as he licked his fingers and followed her into the common room.

Reaching the bar Finian drew her a mug of cider and slide it across the counter to her a mischievous glint coming to his dark eyes, “why did you not just tell him that it was too spicy for you, you know you will have to tell him sometime if he is to know?” he grinned as she took the mug and washed away the burning still in her throat. “I know” she smiled “But he just looked so pleased, I did not have the heart to tell him.” Finian just laughed and shook his head “I do not think he would be offended you know!” he said as he picked up a cloth and wiped the top of the counter. “Ok, ok, I will tell him later!” she laughed seeing that she would not hear the end of it if she did not, then sliding the empty mug back at him with a jovial wink she turned and began collecting the empty mugs and dishes of the taverns guests, leaving the innkeeper to usher Kannah and Ærosylle if he could find her off to the kitchen.

[Imladris]

Finian hastily drowned a bit mug of water to cool the tingling burn on his tongue. If anything, Stoney would bring add an interesting and spicy flair to the food. He grinned...that was exactly what the Tavern needed. Something different to make it stand out from the other Inns along the wayside...except that there were no other Inns around...Finian sighed. He wouldn't have minded a bit of competition.

He wondered where his sister was....he hoped that she had not run off again, and was pretending that she was a bird or a fish. That would be very devastating...not good at all...He scratched his scalp...it was exceedingly itchy. He wondered why. It almost felt as if bugs were crawling over his skin. He shrugged. Too many things to worry about it now.

He caugt sight of his sister with the elf. He had dried himself off, and seemed to be shrinking in the shadows, avoiding the eyes of any maidens happening to pass by. Finian grinned, remembering Ædhral's and Thalinar's first meeting. He was probably still remembering it...Finian bit back a laugh as he leaped over the counter, grabbed two mugs of ale, and strode towards the pair.

He handed the mug to Thalinar, bowed, and said, "Hopefully my sister wasn't bothering you..." He tousled her hair, and she leaned her elbow against his waist, grinning at him. "Anyway, I hope everything was to your satisfaction?"

[Ealasaide]

The rider entered the inn's yard from the direction of the center of town, having just come from a brief meeting with Esgaroth's town managers and leading merchants. He wore the livery of Gondor and carried a messenger's satchel slung across one of his broad shoulders. A sword hung sheathed at his side. Dismounting in front of the stable, he tied his horse to a hitching rail and took a quick look around for the stablemaster. Finding no one, he turned and walked toward the front door of the inn.

There was a soft clink of mail as he patted the dust from his cloak. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pausing a moment to allow his eyes to adjust from the brightness outside to the relative darkness of the common room. Then, seeing an empty table, he seated himself and looked around for the innkeeper. It had been over a year since his last visit to Esgaroth and he found the changes since the dragon's attack a bit disorienting, what with the entire town having up and moved off the platform over the lake on to dry ground a short distance away. He had heard talk in the south of the damage done by the dragon's fire and noticed a good many familiar faces were now missing, including, apparently, that of the innkeeper Aeron. Another much younger fellow, presumably Aeron's son, seemed to have taken over by the look of it. Catching the young innkeeper's eye where he stood conversing with an elf and a young girl, Bragorn signaled for an ale. Then, he sat back to look around the place.

Whoever had rebuilt the Vineyard Tavern had done an excellent job of it, Bragorn decided. He had been quite fond of the old inn and found that the new version offered the same comfortable, homey feeling as before. He glanced up as a serving girl with rather flashy good looks and dressed in brightly colored silk, paused by his table, a tray resting on her hip. "An ale for you, sir?" she asked.

Bragorn nodded gratefully for he was truly parched. "That would be splendid."

She nodded and turned to go, but Bragorn caught her wrist. She stopped and gave him a sharp look, which caused him to release her instantly. Once he had done so, she smiled rather brusquely. "Is there something else, then?"

"Yes," answered Bragorn, with a grin. "An old friend of mine used to work here as the stablemaster. I haven't seen him for some time and am hoping to discover what has become of him. Rochadan was his name." He leaned toward the serving girl with a roguish twinkle in his eye. "And while we are on the subject of names," he added. "What might yours be? I am Bragorn, a messenger here on behalf of the Steward of Gondor."


*****************************

Rochadan

Having found Stoney much more interested in discussing his cooking than the Lonely Mountain or matters of arms, Rochadan let the subject drop and allowed his conversation to drift elsewhere over the remainder of the lunch. Cooking had never been one of his strong points or even of particular interest to him, so it didn't leave him with much to talk about to the new fellow, although he did have to admit he found the mouthful of the dwarf's soup that Ædhral had shared with him quite tasty. He liked the spiciness, and was tickled to no small degree by Ædhral's manful attempt to eat it as well when he knew she had no fondness for spicy food. Nonetheless, he found it typically sweet of her to consume the full bowl, never letting on for an instant to the beaming dwarf that the soup was not to her taste. Someone would have to tell Stoney eventually, though, or the poor girl could be suffering through the dwarf's hot curries indefinitely. He figured it unlikely that Ædhral would say anything herself, her being the sort who would not want to hurt the dwarf's feelings.

Finally, as the luncheon wound down and Finian and Ædhral returned to the common room, Rochadan looked at the faces remaining around the table. Little Sallie had climbed into his lap and was sleeping peacefully with her cheek against his chest. Andhun, who sat across from him, was looking drowsy as well, his thin face drifting closer and closer to the tabletop as he struggled to stay awake. Earcwen, bright-eyed as ever, had joined into a lively conversation with Nell and Stoney over the relative merits of hot peppers in cooking. Rochadan listened for a moment, then rose quietly and carried Sallie off to finish her nap on the bed in Cook's room near the kitchen. Nell watched him go without comment as it was fairly common for her to lend Sallie her bed for her naps. That way, she could keep an eye on the little girl while her father went on about his work.

Returning, Rochadan dispatched Andhun to his room for a nap as well. The boy had had a difficult day so far and, if he had any hope of regaining his strength, would have to get plenty of rest. By the time he returned to the kitchen for the second time, Rochadan found that the conversation around the table had moved on from hot peppers to a rehash of the dragon's attack a year earlier that had led to the burning of the platform city of Esgaroth and the original inn. Thinking of Andhun's burns and the death of Finian's father Aeron, the innkeeper who had been so like a father to all of them, Rochadan felt a rush of sadness mixed with regret. The weeks that had followed the dragon's attack had also been the last time that Rochadan himself had put on his mail shirt and buckled on his sword to ride forth with the other men to fight on behalf of Lake Town. While it had been a time of great stress and sorrow for all of them, it had also been exhilarating to have a sword in his hand again, to be riding back and forth between the camps of the different armies, carrying messages and dispatches between the leaders. Leaning against the door frame, Rochadan sighed. He had been feeling restless of late, anyway, and all this talk of the dragon only dredged up memories that made him more conscious of it than ever.

Taking his leave of the three still seated around the table, Rochadan beat a hasty retreat to the stableyard where he found a few newly arrived horses tied and awaiting his attention. Running a hand idly down the neck of one of the waiting horses, he gazed longingly out toward the road that ran past the inn. How little it would take just to saddle his horse and go...

He shook his head, knowing he mustn't think of such things. He had Sallie's happiness and safety to consider and, now, Andhun's as well. Besides that, he also had a responsibility to Finian and the inn. Sighing again, he knew that he would not be going anywhere. Perhaps later, if he could convince Nell or Ædhral to watch Sallie for him, he would saddle Alydar and go for a long ride along the shore of the long lake. Still looking toward the open road, he raised a hand and pushed his dark hair back from his face. Perhaps he could work the restlessness out of his system that way. Turning, Rochadan led the first of the guests' horses into the stable and let the door swing shut behind him.

[Orual]

Kannah studied the newcomer briskly, her lip wrinkled somewhat in a visage of disdain. "Bragorn, is that it? Kannah."

"Cannot what?" the man asked.

"Kannah. My name. My name is Kannah," she snapped. The man irked her. Most men irked her. Most everything irked her, come to think of it. The corner of her mouth tugged up in what was almost a rueful smile as her dark eyes flashed warningly at Bragorn.

"Kannah is an unusual name. Where does it come from? Not Rohan, surely. Is it Northern?" Bragorn asked, either truly interested or faking it well.

"Southern," Kannah said shortly. Bragorn raised an eyebrow. "I am from Southern Gondor. My name comes from Harad."

"What does it mean?" Bragorn queried.

Kannah leaned in close to his face, a sickly sweet smile dancing on her lips. "What does it mean?" she echoed. Bragorn cocked his head to the side. "It means she who should not be bothered unless you actually intend to order something!" she exclaimed, snapping back up straight. "Now! That ale."

[Esgallhugwen]

Thalinar's eyes were cast downward as he spooned his meal into his mouth, he could feel the eyes of the curious Ærosylle on him as he had concluded his story, regretfully sparing no detail in his account of the events.

A shadow loomed over his shrunken figure and an ale was placed in front of his face. A familiar voice resounded in his ear, "Hopefully my sister wasn't bothering you..." He tousled her hair, and she leaned her elbow against his waist, grinning at him. "Anyway, I hope everything was to your satisfaction?".

Thalinar looked up at him, "No not at all, I didn't realize she was your sister, we were just discussing her ability to talk to certain objects", he took a sip of his ale to wash down the stew, "and yes you have been very accomodating, thank you kindly".

His smile was shy, as he put another spoon full of stew into his mouth, "can you please tell Ædhral that I am sorry for everything, I mean not now, perhaps later when I am away and not so much a nuisance".