The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Dunwen]

The widow looked down at her empty plate with some surprise. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she’d started eating. Now, after a delicious helping of roat chicken, gravy and mashed potatoes, she was still hungry. ‘Hobbit-life must be rubbing off on me’, she thought, amused. However, the Shire was a fine place possible to pick up Hobbit-like habits, so she decided she would indeed return to the food tables. Avoiding a newly-arrived dwarf and passing by a giant of a man sitting with a younger man with hair like fire, she made her way once more to the food tables. Even though a large gathering of hobbits had been eating steadily for some time, the redoubtable Miz Bunce and her helpers were equal to the challenge. There was still plenty of food to choose from, including several desserts. Widow Rosebank decided the hobbits had the right idea when she saw several hobbits fill their plates with two or three (or four or five) desserts at once. She couldn’t equal their appetites, but she did choose a crisp apple and slices of tangy cheese, a piece of carrot cake and one of the spice cookies made in the Green Dragon’s kitchen earlier that very day. Sitting back down, she continued to watch the crowd as she polished off the tasty sweets.

Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
Step it out, Mary, if you can
Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
Show your legs to the countryman

It was a familiar old song, and a tune she’d never been able to resist. In her youth, she'd been a fixture at any party in Bree with dancing and music, and her feet hadn't lost their urge to step and twirl to the jolly sound of a fiddle and pipe. She watched two young women, clearly strangers to Shire, get up to join the crowd of hobbit lasses dancing with the band. 'Seems like a good idea,' she thought, grinning in a most un-middle-aged way. Widow Rosebank tipped back her mug and finished off the last of her ale, then hastened to join the other dancing girls and women.

[Dimturiel]

"Whatever burdens you bear, I hope your travelling has eased them somehow."

Aniriel smiled. Hearing words of comfort was something that seemed to belong to the past, to another life, a life in which she was still Aniriel of Dol Amroth. But it brought her solace to hear the strange girl speak such words to her, even if she knew not all of her secrets. If something good had happened in all of her journey, then that was meeting Calle.

As for her burdens, Aniriel thought, they would ease as time passes. Time diminishes almost everything, good and ill alike. Few, if any, are the things that can escape its deadly breath. Her cares would surely not make any exception.

The band had begun to sing another song, one that was unfamiliar to Aniriel. She noticed Calle was filled with delight at the sound of the tune. She clearly knew and loved the song. With a feeling of amusement mingled with excitement, Aniriel let her friend lead her into the dance. Many other girls had joyned in by then. And also, Aniriel noticed, a woman now no longer very young had come to dance, too. The song must have been very well-known and loved, then. The tune was lovely, and it lifted Aniriel's spirits. What would she gain by being gloomy? She was young, and hope must never leave young and merry hearts.

When the song ended, Aniriel clapped with the rest.

"Well," she said to Calle,"this was different from anything that I have heard at home. Very lovely tune! Although the words were rather cheerless."

[Glirdan]

“This place brings back many memories,” she explained rather vaguely. “Even if my travels are few, I do rather enjoy it. It creates for rather memorable experiences, don’t you think? Though perhaps it becomes less exciting when you travel a great deal...?” He allowed her to stare off into scilence as he thought back to the many travels he had when he was younger. They were all memorable in some way or another, yet none of them greatly stuck out.

He stared around in scilence at the crowd, remembering his travel on the way here. Ever since the King had taken over, the roads have been clear of any peril. Yet Gróin still wished to have some sort of thrilling adventure. Something exciting and daring. But he knew that chance wasn't going to happen any time soon. For now, he was just a traveller, journeying to the home of his kin. He suddenly remembered his manners and turned to Lily. He noticed she was still silent, staring intently at the Inn. "Lily? Is there something wrong?"

[Lasbelinion]

‘I suppose they are cheerless, in a way,’ said Callë. ‘Though, and I know it’s quite silly, but I admire the spirit the girl Mary showed. She obviously comes from a family where the father wants to better his name by tying it to the rich man’s. And he’s the sort who’ll not take his daughter’s opinions into consideration.’

She nodded her head, thinking on some of the girls she’d known in her childhood. Some of them she had envied for their nicer clothes and such, but the envy had come to an end when they were auctioned (for want of a better word) off by their fathers.

‘Mary couldn’t have escaped him alive,’ she said. ‘Not even her soldier could have protected her. Fathers, at least where I come from, have certain rights they can exercise over their children. Nay, she couldn’t escape him in life, so she did so in death.’

‘Not a way I’d have chosen, or at least I’d like to think so, but then I’ve never been driven to that extreme, have I?’

Callë turned, intending to lead the way to the drinks table. She was thirsty after the dance and thought a cup of cool cider would taste good. For a moment, she turned back to say something to Aniriel and bumped into someone in her path. It was an older woman . . . one she had seen dancing to the last song, she thought.

‘Begging your pardon, m’am!’ she said, reaching out to steady the woman with her hand. ‘I should know better than to walk one direction and look the opposite!’ Callë look properly chagrined at the outcome of her actions. ‘We’re off to fetch some cider,’ she went on. ‘Thirsty work, this dancing. Would you like some, too?’

[Firefoot]

"Lily? Is there something wrong?" Lily dragged her gaze back to Gróin, struggling to form an answer to this question.

“No – yes – well, sort of.” She sighed. “The trouble is that I do not know precisely what is going on.” She paused, wondering whether she should go on. Gróin looked concerned, curious, perhaps. “I will tell you the story briefly, for it is rather complicated and I do not know how much of it truly matters now.

“The last time I came to the Green Dragon, I met a rather shy hobbit lad from Buckland. In short, we fell in love – at least, I thought he did, and that is the mystery which I have set out to solve. But I am getting ahead of myself. We met here, but we both soon had to return to our homes. We rode together for a time, and I stayed at his home for a few days before heading on to Bree.” She fell quiet for a moment. “There was a lad in Bree – his name is Tommy - who had asked my uncle’s permission to court me while I was away, and my uncle gladly agreed. I live with my aunt and uncle, you see. I had known this by a letter, and the lad I met here, he wanted me to go through with it – he wanted me to make sure I was making the right choice. So I did, but it was not the same. I have since tried writing back to the Shire, but only a few days ago I realized that my uncle was not actually sending my letters. Apparently, he has been wanting me to marry Tommy more than I had realized. I confronted him, but have not spoken to him since. With only my aunt’s knowledge, I left Bree and rode to Buckland… but I found that he was not there. No… the lad who said he loved me… I heard that he had come here. And I heard that he came here to find his bride – not me, obviously, since why should I be here? But I knew nothing of it.” She broke off, finding no more words to describe her feelings. She felt that if she went on any longer, her calm facade, already slipping, would slide away completely.

“But… would it not be better to talk to him, find out the truth?” inquired Gróin.

“No! No, he must not know that I am here,” said Lily fiercely. “If he truly has come looking for another girl, then I will leave and go back to Tommy. But I will not beg him. And I do not want to hear his explanations.” Her voice trailed to a whisper. “Not yet. I can’t handle it yet.”

[Kath]

The sad eyes that Tilionwen turned on her after her question made Astilwen wish she hadn't said anything. She could see the fear in the other woman's eyes, and was about to try and take her words back when an answer came.

"I intend to leave as soon as may be. Tomorrow morning, actually."

She thought perhaps it was meant in a reassuring way, to let Astilwen know her advice had been heeded, but the hobbit couldn't help but feel upset at the knowledge this new found friend would be leaving in a few short hours. She knew it was selfish, and knew that even if she were able to make the choice as to whether Tilionwen stayed or went she would still encourage her to go, but she couldn't help but think that she would miss this woman. It seemed that her reaction had been noticed, as Tilionwen spoke again.

"But I still have a few hours, will you help me make the most of them?"

Astilwen smiled then and nodded.

"Of course! What do you wish to do with the time you have left? We could join the others and dance, or find something to eat?"

[piosenniel]

~*~ GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS ~*~

The Green Dragon Inn is located in Bywater, just off the Great East-West Road.

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.

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

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, General handyman/jack-of-all-trades round the Inn; Man from southwestern Gondor (played by Envinyatar) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Zimzi (Zimziran), wife to Derufin; a skilled potter from Lindon(played by Pio) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Meri - Stablemaster

Tim Woodlock - Stableboy; Wren - his younger sister: humans, originally from Breeland (characters played by Folwren)

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

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.

_____________________________________________

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.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EVERYONE

Please be familiar with The Red Book of Westmarch which gives the rules for posting in the Shire RPG's and in The Green Dragon Inn.

Thanks!

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Lhunardawen]

"Of course! What do you wish to do with the time you have left? We could join the others and dance, or find something to eat?"

Astilwen's infectious cheery disposition once again drew Tilionwen in, allowing her to cast aside the sadness brought about by her decision to leave the next day. Somehow she was able to tell that the hobbit was torn inside - wanting her to stay yet knowing she should go - and she promised herself to make this a night to remember for both of them. The friendship they have so readily formed in such a short span of time only deserved it.

"I'm not sure if I still know how to dance," Tilionwen replied with a sheepish grin, "but it sounds like a fantastic idea! However my stomach grumbles at the moment and is demanding to be fed. It's been a long time..."

The hobbit did not even let her finish speaking when she grabbed both her hands into her tiny ones and pulled her towards the tables. Tilionwen gave in with a laugh and soon fell in step with Astilwen. She still could not keep the faint melancholy as deep inside as she wanted, but she was determined not to allow it to ruin their night.

[Farael]

" It would please me to know how a countryman found his way out here."

"Well Losse, your 'profession' does make me feel a little uncomfortable, specially because it's because of thieves that I find myself in this inn." Answered Farael, "My father is a merchant and I decided to join him after serving some time in the army. I wanted to travel yet my father made sure I was kept out of harm's way. Him and I arranged that I'd join the family business if I was allowed to travel to distant lands. He was trying to get some pipe weed from the hobbits' lands and so I came here to see if I could get a good deal. Some other merchants sent people this way and so we were a little group of men carrying two carts with some goods and a good deal of money. At one point I saw tracks that looked orkish to me and I decided to follow them. They lead me nowhere, but by the time I joined up with my group they had been assaulted by bandits. Not orcs, but humans. The others went back, I pressed forward hoping to find the thieves yet after a week of searching around I decided I had lost their track and came here for a break. Not a really exciting story, but that's why I'm here"

He felt more than 'a little' uncomfortable about Losse. He had always thought thieves were evil, wretched people that had no friends other than their illgained goods and gold. Yet this thief was both friendly and more than just a little charming. "I'm getting hungry again," said he "how about we grab some more food? I have never had such a great meal as today!"