The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Witch_Queen · 03-15-2005, 09:14 AM

Jon was surprised by the dwarf's words. "My dreams are mere children dreams. Nothing more nothing less." Jon looked down at his mug. Empty he thought to himself. "If you will excuse me I am in need of a refill. Can I get you one while I'm at it?" Jon wanted to pull the hood back over his head but didn't cause he didn't know whether or not he would see Aman. The dwarf nodded his head and Jon picked up the other mug and headed for the bar. "News you say.."Jon thought he head a very familar voice. Jon turned to see an elf setting at the bar talking to Aman.

Jon thought about going on back to the table and forget about the ale. But his throat was dry and no doubt that the dwarf's was too. "Excuse me... I really do hate to barge in on your conversation...But could I get a refill." Jon looked at the inn keeper a smile across his face. He turned to the elf, gently nodding his head.

Hookbill the Goomba · 03-15-2005, 10:54 AM

Dwaline followed John with his eyes. As he seemed to interrupt another conversation, a slight feeling of curiosity began to come over him. Avalon noted this and fluttered upon his shoulder. Dwaline glanced at her and she saw a small glint in his eye. Almost as if he was formulating a plan of action.

Avalon whispered something into his ear and Dwaline nodded. John tarried by the bar for a while, before Dwaline called over, "John, ask for the strongest stuff they have." Dwaline smirked as John cocked his head to the left and then shrugged.

Nurumaiel · 03-15-2005, 06:43 PM

Why, she acted as if she could read his mind. And that wasn't right. Of course, she couldn't... but if she could, it wasn't right. Falco had seen enough of old maid hobbits prowling around into other people's business, and what would happen if they could prowl into other people's minds? Was his face so very expressive that this new Elf woman could read his thoughts? It was annoying. He looked at the ground to keep his face hidden from further mistakes of expression.

It was an unfair question, that's what it was. "I don't mind them helping," he thought, colour mounting to his cheeks as he reflected on how honest he was about to be with himself, "but I want to be able to take care of the poor little lad. I never had any children of my own, though I always wanted them. It was my delight to take care of Marigold, but it would be wonderful to take care of a boy like Rory who will someday be a fine, upright young laddie. It helps me to pretend that I do have little sons and daughters of my own." The crimson spread further on his cheeks. That was so sentimental. How in all the Shire could he actually say that to all of them aloud, if just thinking made him feel so humiliated? And if he didn't say that, what else could he say? No, thank you very much... that would never do. Yes, thank you! would be just as bad. They would think they could continue to shove him around. They were so much taller and all that, and it was easy to brush him aside to tend to the poor hurt little children themselves. And they were so much taller than he that they wouldn't be able to see how much he wanted to take care of the children himself.

"I... don't... know..." he managed to stutter out. It sounded odd, but what more could he say? Neither yes nor no was the proper answer, the answer he wanted to make, but the proper answer... he could not say it. He wasn't a crusty old hobbit who couldn't smile for fear of being thought sentimental, but to tell them that... oh, it would be too much. Even the most open of hearts would blush.

"I don't know," he murmured again, and looked in a disappointed fashion at the ground.

Envinyatar · 03-15-2005, 11:45 PM

‘Please . . . be our guest!’ Derufin pushed back his chair and stood up. He reached out his hand to clasp that of Anyopâ. ‘Yes, welcome,’ said Zimzi, turning to smile at the newcomer. She reached for an empty mug and poured some ale for him, setting it down at the place next to her.

‘We’ve not ordered yet,’ Zimzi continued as Anyopâ sat down. Derufin held out his pouch of pipeweed. ‘Don’t know if you smoke, but if you need a pipe, there’s an extra in the outside pocket.’

Buttercup came to the table with a fresh pitcher of ale. ‘Cook says she’ll stand you lot to three pitchers for the table and dinner all around for the work you’ve put in.’ She cast a look about the table and its occupants. ‘though I doubt she knows the numbers have somehow swollen.’

Derufin gave her his best smile and pulled her to one side. ‘I’ll square it with Cook if there’s a problem. For now just feed my guests and keep their cups filled.’ Buttercup rolled her eyes at him, then laughed, and went back to the kitchen to fetch supper for the table.

As he sat back down, Derufin saw Zimzi had leaned in close to Anyopâ and was looking at something . . .

Arry · 03-16-2005, 12:23 AM

Ferdy and Aranel

‘Pardon my saying so, Miss,’ said Ferdy, laying his fork down by the side of his plate. ‘But it seems to me as if you’ve barely said enough, not “too much”.’ He handed her his napkin nodding at her tears. ‘No need to salt the soup with them, if you get my meaning.’

He watched as she wiped them away. ‘Seems like you’ve gotten to do what you felt you needed to. So why are you unhappy?' 'If you don’t mind my asking,’ he added hurriedly. He wondered to himself if she was sad because she’d been so long away from her family. He knew that he would be. But then, he reminded himself, his family had always stood solidly behind him.

The face of his Gammer rose up fondly in his mind. She’d pack him a lunch and give him a kiss and a few words of care, saying how she’d always be thinking about him. Then she’d send him off, as would his Da, saying she’d hope to see his face again. It would never happen, though, Ferdy thought; his roots were too firmly planted in the Shire.

‘Do you miss your family, Miz Aranel?’ he asked quietly.

Huan · 03-16-2005, 02:38 AM

Anyopâ drew back in his chair as Derufin sat down. ‘You have a gracious wife, Master Derufin. And to my delight I find that she bears one of the old names – from Westernesse. A name dear to my heart. Zimzirân; beloved jewel.’ He pushed the chapbook that he and Zimzi had been looking at, across the table to Derufin. He had already given her a very brief tale of where he hailed from, saying that he, too, lived near the sea. In Lond Daer Enedh, still a small harbor for ships.

‘I grew up on the old tales of those who came east from Westernesse. Tales of the men of Númenor and their landing at Vinyalondë. Aldarion and his guild of mariners, the Uinendili. The River Gwathló runs not too far a distance from my family’s home.’ A far away look shone in his eyes. ‘The forests have grown back since they built their harbor there, those Kings of Men. There would be timber aplenty once again for the great ships they built.’ His gaze softened as he recalled himself to the snug warmth of the Common Room. ‘Now only the small merchant vessels who ply their trade up and down the coast stop in at our harbor. And we, that is, I should say my family, have put their hands to other crafts. Fine metal and jewel work.’ He leaned forward, pointing to some of the sketches he had made. ‘Like these . . .’

03-15-2005, 10:54 AM	#2
Hookbill the Goomba Alive without breath Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla Posts: 5,912	Dwaline followed John with his eyes. As he seemed to interrupt another conversation, a slight feeling of curiosity began to come over him. Avalon noted this and fluttered upon his shoulder. Dwaline glanced at her and she saw a small glint in his eye. Almost as if he was formulating a plan of action. Avalon whispered something into his ear and Dwaline nodded. John tarried by the bar for a while, before Dwaline called over, "John, ask for the strongest stuff they have." Dwaline smirked as John cocked his head to the left and then shrugged. __________________ I think that if you want facts, then The Downer Newspaper is probably the place to go. I know! I read it once. THE PHANTOM AND ALIEN: The Legend of the Golden Bus Ticket...

03-15-2005, 11:45 PM	#4
Envinyatar Quill Revenant Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: Wandering through the Downs..... Posts: 849	‘Please . . . be our guest!’ Derufin pushed back his chair and stood up. He reached out his hand to clasp that of Anyopâ. ‘Yes, welcome,’ said Zimzi, turning to smile at the newcomer. She reached for an empty mug and poured some ale for him, setting it down at the place next to her. ‘We’ve not ordered yet,’ Zimzi continued as Anyopâ sat down. Derufin held out his pouch of pipeweed. ‘Don’t know if you smoke, but if you need a pipe, there’s an extra in the outside pocket.’ Buttercup came to the table with a fresh pitcher of ale. ‘Cook says she’ll stand you lot to three pitchers for the table and dinner all around for the work you’ve put in.’ She cast a look about the table and its occupants. ‘though I doubt she knows the numbers have somehow swollen.’ Derufin gave her his best smile and pulled her to one side. ‘I’ll square it with Cook if there’s a problem. For now just feed my guests and keep their cups filled.’ Buttercup rolled her eyes at him, then laughed, and went back to the kitchen to fetch supper for the table. As he sat back down, Derufin saw Zimzi had leaned in close to Anyopâ and was looking at something . . . __________________ ‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’ – Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'

03-16-2005, 12:23 AM	#5
Arry Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Jan 2004 Posts: 704	Ferdy and Aranel ‘Pardon my saying so, Miss,’ said Ferdy, laying his fork down by the side of his plate. ‘But it seems to me as if you’ve barely said enough, not “too much”.’ He handed her his napkin nodding at her tears. ‘No need to salt the soup with them, if you get my meaning.’ He watched as she wiped them away. ‘Seems like you’ve gotten to do what you felt you needed to. So why are you unhappy?' 'If you don’t mind my asking,’ he added hurriedly. He wondered to himself if she was sad because she’d been so long away from her family. He knew that he would be. But then, he reminded himself, his family had always stood solidly behind him. The face of his Gammer rose up fondly in his mind. She’d pack him a lunch and give him a kiss and a few words of care, saying how she’d always be thinking about him. Then she’d send him off, as would his Da, saying she’d hope to see his face again. It would never happen, though, Ferdy thought; his roots were too firmly planted in the Shire. ‘Do you miss your family, Miz Aranel?’ he asked quietly. __________________ If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world – J.R.R. Tolkien

03-16-2005, 02:38 AM	#6
Huan Haunting Spirit Join Date: Feb 2005 Location: Halls of Oromë Posts: 54	Anyopâ drew back in his chair as Derufin sat down. ‘You have a gracious wife, Master Derufin. And to my delight I find that she bears one of the old names – from Westernesse. A name dear to my heart. Zimzirân; beloved jewel.’ He pushed the chapbook that he and Zimzi had been looking at, across the table to Derufin. He had already given her a very brief tale of where he hailed from, saying that he, too, lived near the sea. In Lond Daer Enedh, still a small harbor for ships. ‘I grew up on the old tales of those who came east from Westernesse. Tales of the men of Númenor and their landing at Vinyalondë. Aldarion and his guild of mariners, the Uinendili. The River Gwathló runs not too far a distance from my family’s home.’ A far away look shone in his eyes. ‘The forests have grown back since they built their harbor there, those Kings of Men. There would be timber aplenty once again for the great ships they built.’ His gaze softened as he recalled himself to the snug warmth of the Common Room. ‘Now only the small merchant vessels who ply their trade up and down the coast stop in at our harbor. And we, that is, I should say my family, have put their hands to other crafts. Fine metal and jewel work.’ He leaned forward, pointing to some of the sketches he had made. ‘Like these . . .’ __________________ But Huan the hound was true of heart, and the love of Lúthien had fallen upon him in the first hour of their meeting; and he grieved at her captivity . . .

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03-15-2005, 09:14 AM	#1
Witch_Queen Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Oct 2003 Location: Pandora's box... "LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Posts: 344	Jon was surprised by the dwarf's words. "My dreams are mere children dreams. Nothing more nothing less." Jon looked down at his mug. Empty he thought to himself. "If you will excuse me I am in need of a refill. Can I get you one while I'm at it?" Jon wanted to pull the hood back over his head but didn't cause he didn't know whether or not he would see Aman. The dwarf nodded his head and Jon picked up the other mug and headed for the bar. "News you say.."Jon thought he head a very familar voice. Jon turned to see an elf setting at the bar talking to Aman. Jon thought about going on back to the table and forget about the ale. But his throat was dry and no doubt that the dwarf's was too. "Excuse me... I really do hate to barge in on your conversation...But could I get a refill." Jon looked at the inn keeper a smile across his face. He turned to the elf, gently nodding his head. __________________ And when this life is over... and I stand before the God... I'll dream I'm back here standing in my nowhere land of Oz.....

03-15-2005, 06:43 PM	#3
Nurumaiel Vice of Twilight Join Date: Nov 2002 Location: on a mountain Posts: 1,121	Why, she acted as if she could read his mind. And that wasn't right. Of course, she couldn't... but if she could, it wasn't right. Falco had seen enough of old maid hobbits prowling around into other people's business, and what would happen if they could prowl into other people's minds? Was his face so very expressive that this new Elf woman could read his thoughts? It was annoying. He looked at the ground to keep his face hidden from further mistakes of expression. It was an unfair question, that's what it was. "I don't mind them helping," he thought, colour mounting to his cheeks as he reflected on how honest he was about to be with himself, "but I want to be able to take care of the poor little lad. I never had any children of my own, though I always wanted them. It was my delight to take care of Marigold, but it would be wonderful to take care of a boy like Rory who will someday be a fine, upright young laddie. It helps me to pretend that I do have little sons and daughters of my own." The crimson spread further on his cheeks. That was so sentimental. How in all the Shire could he actually say that to all of them aloud, if just thinking made him feel so humiliated? And if he didn't say that, what else could he say? No, thank you very much... that would never do. Yes, thank you! would be just as bad. They would think they could continue to shove him around. They were so much taller and all that, and it was easy to brush him aside to tend to the poor hurt little children themselves. And they were so much taller than he that they wouldn't be able to see how much he wanted to take care of the children himself. "I... don't... know..." he managed to stutter out. It sounded odd, but what more could he say? Neither yes nor no was the proper answer, the answer he wanted to make, but the proper answer... he could not say it. He wasn't a crusty old hobbit who couldn't smile for fear of being thought sentimental, but to tell them that... oh, it would be too much. Even the most open of hearts would blush. "I don't know," he murmured again, and looked in a disappointed fashion at the ground.