The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[Arry]

He sat sharing a pipe with Harold, their talk turning to matters of the upcoming party. Alwin motioned with his hand to the tables and chairs that now graced the Common Room. ‘I don’t think you need to worry about doing something more for the party. Look what you’ve already done.’ The tables were all polished, their smooth surfaces glinting softly in the light from the windows. Those chairs not already in use, stood ready for the influx of visitors to the Inn that would surely accompany the announcement of a party.

The door to the Inn was open, held so by one of the sawhorses. There were still items that needed to be moved back into the Inn and the workmen found it easier just to leave the door open. Harold had just fished out his pouch of tobacco, preparing to fill his pipe again, when Alwin heard the loud clip-clop of hooves against the wood of the Inn steps and porch. He stood up, frowning at the sound.

Then, there, framed in the doorway was a little brown muzzle followed by the ears and stocky body of one of the Inn ponies. Alwin glanced out the window and saw the rest of the ponies and horses milling about in the yard. Someone had forgotten to fasten them into their pen. Alwin gasped and motioned for Harold to take a look. The horses were eating the flowers from the front gardens, and through the window on the opposite side of the Inn, the ponies could be seen munching on the salad greens and scaring the chickens, who clucked loudly at the intruders.

Alwin grabbed hold of the pony who’d come in to nose through the plate of pastries on one of the tables; Harold led the way back out to the Inn yard to begin the rest of the round-up . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne had just come back from the fishing hole carrying a handsome string of perch and trout that she intended to give to Ruby and Buttercup as a peace offering. But before she could make her way round to the kitchen, she was startled to see a number of ponies who had escaped from their pen, now milling about the grounds of the Inn. Quickening her step to find out exactly what was happening, she was appalled to observe that several of the animals were standing in the midst of the gardens along the front of the Dragon, making a dainty meal out of the choicest blossoms. Her eyes widened further as she caught a glimpse of her precious garden at the rear of the Inn with a fat brown pony standing knee deep in the middle of the row, a half-eaten leaf of lettuce hanging out both sides of his mouth.

What knucklehead had let the animals out? Hawthorne looked on in abject horror and vowed to have her revenge. For the past two weeks, she had devoted countless hours to weeding and nurturing the flowers and cultivating her little plot of vegetables and herbs. Now the fences had been kicked down, and many of the lovely plants trampled into the ground. This was supposed to be her surprise for Cook, a little present so that she wouldn't be quite so angry for the damage that the kitchen had suffered.

Fighting back tears, Hawthorne frantically motioned to Harold and Alwin, and any of the other guests who happened to be walking by, begging them to help her round up the animals so that the damage to the gardens could be minimized. She ran towards the rear of the Inn, waving her arms in the air and trying to herd the animals back in the direction of their pen. Al the while she was grumpily reflecting....Why can't anything I do ever come out right?

[Primrose Bolger]

Nosed by one of the free ranging ponies, a few of the irate chickens had flown the coop. In a flurry of feathers they’d found their way to the great oak tree and now sought refuge among the branches. One of them, a particularly noisome little banty, shook his comb at Kiera, crowing loudly. Stretching his wings out and puffing his chest, he fixed her with his bright black eye and advance on her, claiming his new domain.

‘Best you not do that, little master,’ she cooed at him in a soothing voice. He stopped, distracted by her left hand as it wove in a rhythmic pattern in the air. His head bobbed at it, and he shook his feathers as if in warning. With a practiced scoop of her right arm, she grabbed him quickly by the legs. Holding him upside down earned her a few vicious pecks before her left hand caught him by the neck and held him gently. She cradled him under her arm and lulled him into quiescence with a sing-song pattern of nonsense sounds.

The hens, there were four of them, clustered close together on the branch a little ways off. They squawked at the melee taking place below and eyed the milling ponies and their pursuers with suspicion.

Quiet now, the rooster made little clucking noises, content for the moment. The hens gathered near him, listening to the soothing flow of assuring sounds. ‘You can stay until the night falls,’ she told the lot of them. ‘Then I’ll see you safely back to the henhouse and your little yard.’

One of the horses, feeling penned in by his pursuers, kicked out at that moment, catching one of the poles that held up the fencing to the hen yard. Kiera shook her head as a section of the fence collapsed. ‘This Inn is in need of a bit of good luck,’ she murmured to herself. The rooster, stretching his neck to see the source of the new noise, nodded his head as if in agreement.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia dropped her breakfast back onto it's plate and shot out of the Inn door with a speed that no-one here had ever seen before. She raced at one of the horses and leapt onto it's back, using it to round up a group of perhaps four ponies that were heading towards the herb garden. Years of warrior practise had trained her for moments like this, when animals of some sort were loose!

Trying to stifle a giggle as one of the other Hobbits raced across the yard after a particularly adamant pony, she shepharded to four ponies back into the pen, shutting the gate from horseback. Surely the owner of this grey gelding wouldn't mind?

The gelding leapt forwards, and she laid her hand on the head of another horse, this time a cheatnut. The fiery creature calmed, and she got that one back to the pen too.

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm heard some screeching. He rolled over and laid a hand over his ear. Something picked at his arm. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He yawned and looked around. His gaze was totally blurred. He heard some more screeching and he looked at his left side and found Avalon. He smiled to the bird and said "Oh, it was just you." He looked up and saw that Cree was already up. He jumped up and stretched. He yawned even louder and Cree giggled a little. "Come on now, the Inn is almost rebuilt again, let's see what Aman will have us do today." she said and Avalon flew over to her and landed on her shoulder.

It's perfect now, just as it should. He smiled to Cree and they began to walk to Aman that stood on the lawn. He felt hungry but he couldn't think of food now. The Inn was almost finished and everyone looked happy after all the sorrow that had paralyzed the people. It seemed like a celebrationparty for the new opening of the Inn was getting planned and the Shiriff from Hobbiton stood and organized things together with the Shiriff from Bywater.

Aman looked happy as they approached. "Is there anything that needs to be done, Miz Aman?" Grimm asked. It had been a lot of work, but Grimm was ready to help as much as he was available to.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling awoke to find a roan nuzzling his beard. He had not intended to fall asleep but the combination of the warm sun and his pipe had been such that he must have drifted off. He pushed the horse’s head away from his own and was surprised to see a number of ponies and horses about the yard. Hobbits were running about wildly trying to herd the animals back into their pens, and a few Elves and Men were lending a hand as well. Snaveling grimaced at the confusion. This place, he thought, if it’s not one thing, it’s another. . .. Taking hold of the roan’s bridle and clucking lightly with his tongue he led the mare back to her stall. He took a sly look round to make sure that he was unobserved before rifling through an unattended saddle bag that had been left across the pen wall. Finding it empty, he returned to the yard and helped herd a few more ponies into the stables.

By now, most of the chaos had been seen to and Snaveling was hungry. Chuckling to himself about the horses – not too unkindly – he went into the Inn to look for some breakfast. The change from the bright light of day to the interior of the Inn was abrupt, so the first thing he noticed was the smell of the freshly carpentered wood. The Common Room was spacious but not overly large, with an elaborately conceived hearth off to one side. The furniture was simply but sturdily built and came in two sizes: one for the Big Folk and one for the Little. Snaveling noticed with interest that a couple of tables had apparently been constructed with both Folk in mind, with raised benches on one side and regular chairs on the other. (If there was one thing that he had learned of Halflings, it was that they were practical.)

The Room was beginning to fill with people attending to their breakfasts, and at first Snaveling did not notice Toby and Roa at one of the specially built tables. When he did see them, his first impulse was to slink from the Inn to avoid being seen by Roa, but Toby’s eye fell on him before he could flee. The gentlehobbit called Snaveling over to where they were sitting. Reluctantly, Snaveling joined them. Toby, as usual, was talking vociferously, but there was something in his manner that attracted Snaveling’s attention. Toby is planning something, he thought. Indeed, while Toby was hiding it well, it was clear to Snaveling at least that the hobbit was quite pleased with some clever device that he was meditating upon. Snaveling thought of confronting him about it but decided to let the matter rest. Let him have his little mysteries; I’m sure we’ll all hear about it soon enough.

Snaveling avoided Roa’s gaze. She too had something on her mind, but unlike Toby, Snaveling was all too aware of what it was. How much longer could he hope it would be before she remembered? And then what would happen to him? It was as he thought this that Roa addressed him, causing him to react with startled alarm. “Toby has asked for me help with decorating the Inn; for the party tonight. Perhaps you could help us?”

Decorate? “Decorate?” he said. “Well…it will be easier than hauling around furniture. Where do we begin, My Lady,” he tried to hide – not quite successfully – his mocking tone. “I am entirely in your hands.”

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa frowned at Snaveling's tone. She knew he disliked her people, and she also knew he did not enjoy being held under her eye. Well, I suppose he has a right to dislike it. I should release him... Roa dismissed the thought. She did not know why, but she did not wish to release him, not yet. After all, he was a thief, and she did want to keep him out of trouble. However, that mocking tone irritated her. Fine then, we can settle that matter...

"You need not refer to me with such formality. Simply call me Roa. And that goes for you as well, Toby," she added as she turned to the hobbit. "I consider you both friends, now. We should address each other as such." Roa finished with genuine worth. She did not know when the change had occured, but they were both her friends now, as were Galadel and Val. Even Snaveling, though he was shady at best, had her friendship.

"Now then, where were we?" Toby continued on with his tale, and Snaveling looked rather startled. Roa smiled inwardly. It was a great deal of fun to catch him off-guard, though she could not say why.

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower smiled warmly, a facial expression he wasn’t entirely accustomed to. He fixed the odd smile contorting his faced bit his lip, preparing for another rant. He quickly leaned forward as Roa, with a very comforting and gentle look on her face, turned back to him, also smiling. He put his arms on the table slowly, easing himself into a storytelling gait and setting the atmosphere for his tale.

“Alright, I am as aware as all of you that the Shire is not exactly an imperial power upon this Middle-Earth, but we keep our share of importance. Ever since the war, hobbits have forgotten the more glorious of our days, years and years ago. In the last age, we hobbit had our share of chivalrous warriors and ferocious epics and what not. Of course, a tale hangs upon that. After the Battle of Bywater, the thoughts of old were driven from the Shire’s mentality. But there are many of our wiser folk who still remember our grandest tale, the stories of the past. As a matter of fact, a great deal of our very culture can be described in this story. Many elders tell this story to children to teach them about our ways of life. If you truly want to know about the Shire, and about all Halflings, you are surely required to hear the stories about the Battle of Greenfields.”

He waited for some kind of visible reaction. There was technically none, but he could tell that he had at least piqued the interest of one of his two audience-members a little. His smile swelled, and his stomach began to bulge with obvious pride as he leaned back, nestling himself into an epic niche.

“You see, in the year of our reckoning, 1147, (that’s Shire-reckoning, by the way) there came a great host of beastly, savage, monstrous goblin-folk from the mighty citadel of Mount Gram (very big, looming place in the Misty Mountains) into this fair land, invading our territory with utter disregard for any hobbit’s safety. They looted and pillaged ruthlessly, destroying homes and stealing livestock to devour. Of course, the hobbits of that day would never stand for such things. So they banded together, they did, and made a force to stop those boorish orcs. They were led by Bandobras Took, called ‘The Bullroarer’ because of his great strength and height (he happened to be a family relative of mine), and the other respected hobbits of all farthings. My ancestor, Tolman Hornblower (distant uncle’s cousin of my current nephew, don’tcha know), was there too alongside him, as were the heralds of every great family (at the time, not very many, but still a few). Together, they met the foul orcs at Greenfields, in the Northfarthing (quaint little place, great for picnics), and battled heroically, losing not a single life among them. Then, as the conflict piqued, the horns of the Halflings sounded, echoing through the Shire. The powerful blasts from the Hornblower Horn (which gave my ancestor our family name) and the Horn-Call of Buckland, calling hobbits to arms, pushed our mighty troops forward. Finally, Bandobras came face to face with the most beastliest, ugliest, most foul and bad-breathing orc of them all, their leader, Golfimbul the goblin (many suspect he was a troll midget).”

He paused, realizing suddenly that his cheeks were extremely red, practically radiating uncomfortable crimson tinges. He let the bulge in his stomach leak out immediately, watching as he literally shrunk in place. He took another breath, gulping and gasping for air after the voracious rant. His listeners looked like they were ready for him to continue, so he began spending the breath on more ramblings, almost completely losing track of what he was saying as the mangled words poured out of the gaping, twisting maw that was formerly his mouth.

“And?” said Roa, with more of a suggesting nature than that of real, genuine eagerness to hear the story. Regardless, Toby’s mouth had already begun to move at an impossible speed.

“And Bullroarer, using his wooden club (many are of the opinion that it was either a great spiked mace or a piece of pipe-weed stem), struck off the head of Golfimbul and it sailed through the air, landing precisely in a rabbit hole (pity the rabbit wasn’t there, would’ve like rabbit for dinner). Unnerved, the goblins fled and the hobbits of the Shire were victorious. Legend has it that Bandobras first conceived the game of golf, striking Golfimbul’s head into that hole (very few play it much, but it’s still an achievement to invent it). Also, the Hornblower’s first obtained their family name (along with several other notable namings) and the Horn-Call of Buckland (alarm bell of those Brandybucks in the Eastfarthing) sounded for the very first time in Eriador.”

Toby took a very deep breath, slamming his hands on the table. He sat for a moment, staring blankly at the space between Roa and Snaveling, and promptly belched very loudly for no apparent reason.
“Ummm…sorry about that…It really couldn’t wait….What was I talking about exactly?”

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis woke up to the fiery sunrise of the new day, and looked around himself. His cloak that he had wrapped around himself for sleeping was dew covered. The smell of freshly cut wood was in the air, and it reminded him where he was. Lewis had fallen asleep against the brand new stonework of the rebuilt Green Dragon. It wasn't unusual for him though, he was so used to sleeping outside anyways so it just came natural for him to wake up outside.

He took in a deep breath, and got up to his feet. His first thoughts went to Ravon. She was likely still sleeping though and he didn't want to wake her from her spot in the hayloft. He looked at the ring on his finger and was reminded of how close they had become over the last few weeks of rebuilding the Inn. Now it was almost over and he wondered what was in store for them. Lewis was certain however that whatever it was, it would be good. And he'd make sure of that.

Lewis smiled as he walked in through the new doorway of the Dragon. It wasn't completely finished, but it was very close, and it looked very good. New tables and chairs had been set about the inn, and it looked more and more like the cosy Inn that had been there before. He sat down in a chair, looking around the room, and also waiting for his head to completely wake up.

[rutslegolas]

As Harold Brandybuck sat in the Inn smoking his pipe comfortably with Alwin,his companion gave a gasp ,looking at the door Harold saw that the garden was filled with ponies and horses ,some foolish hoobit or man had left the stable door ajar not caring to close it and now the whole garden was full with ponies and horses munching happily on the carrots and radishshes planted in the garden for the upcoming party.

Alwin and Harold went to gather all the horses and ponies,it was a hard work for some of the horses would not listen to Alwin and he had to use some force,Harold gathered all the ponies (as horses very too big for him) and led them to the stables ,Alwin was already there waiting for him and they both carefully locked the stable door before they left.

Now even if Alwin had said that he need'ent to anything for the party, Regin Handhammer had suggested that Harold carve the board above the fireplace,with pictures of the Shire and the name of the Inn ,so Harold asked Alwin if he would help him ........

[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.

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

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.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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.

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

IT IS NOW MID DAY. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor laughed heartily at the incident that had ocurred in the morning, someone by mistake or for whatever reason had left the corral gate open, allowing all the ponies and horses to wonder freely. His horse however knew not to go very far from her friend and master, she had stayed in the front nibbling on the lush grass.

He strolled about the Inn looking into the rooms, clean and new, done well by a craftsmen's hands. But Aldor loved the outdoors utterly and soon longed for a bit of fresh air, not that he didn't cherish a warm bed and a roof over his head, he was accustomed to being outside and wondering here and there.

Soon he found himself lying on his back with his hands behind his head taking in the sweet smells and the sound of birds chirping in the light of the sun. He wondered if anyone would be needing his help for party preparations.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Cree felt better now that she knew that something had happened since she hadn't had her normal spells. After all she was just a regular elf that was only cursed at birth. Theres bound to be something Grimm and I can do. The inn is almost finished and it seems that someone is planning a celebration. Cree could remember the last party she had helped with. She giggled before she snapped back to reality.

What does Aman have that I can help with now. As long as its not sorting through burnt items I'm fine. Cree stood there almost in a trance. "Aman I want to help with something. That is if there is anything I can do along with Grimm. I can never help enough to pay back the kindness I have been shown so far." Cree looked at Grimm and smiled. Everything is how it should be. I am finally happy with someone that isn't going to abandon me.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling did not like surprises, which is why he tried to hard to avoid them. But he had already received one today and was rapidly greeted with two more. The word “friend” coming from Roa’s mouth and directed toward him, made waking up with a horse nuzzling his face seem like the most normal way to start any day. As to Toby’s tale of hobbit gallantry…the very idea of these little people fighting off a pack of wild dogs was one that he could barely entertain. The image of them standing, undaunted, against a horde of orcs was not to be credited. And yet, Snaveling was practiced enough by now to tell when Toby was fabricating and when he was not, and he spoke his tale with the assurance that comes only from an honest soul. Snaveling had underestimated Roa – had he underestimated these Halflings as well?

The Common Room was beginning to fill up with all manner of folk looking for their breakfast. As they had finished their meal, Roa, Snaveling and Toby were obliged to give up their table to another party. “Well, Toby,” said Roa. “I know that Snaveling and I have agreed to help with the decorating, but if you wouldn’t mind I think I’d like to have a bit of a look about the place first. What about you Snaveling?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing the result of our labours My…” he caught himself, “Roa,” he finished. The name felt odd in his mouth; like fine pastry might to a man used to bread.

Roa smiled at his near slip. “All right then. Toby, as this is your land, lead the way!” Toby was only too happy to oblige: leading was something he had proven to be very good at.

They walked back through the room toward the kitchen to have a look at the completed Inn. The builders had been as good as their word; everything was fit and secure and ready for full service. The bustle in the kitchen was mighty with hobbits running about amid a terrible clatter as they prepared the flurry of orders coming in from the Common Room. They moved away from the kitchen and walked back toward the front door.

As they walked through the hall, they passed the rebuilt cellar door. As Snaveling saw it, a sudden chill ran up his back, turned at the neck, and ran back down. Roa saw him shudder and before he could look away from the cellar door, her eyes followed his. She stopped in her tracks and he could see that she was working something out. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that the moment would pass unremarked.

[Roa_Aoife]

As Roa followed Snaveling's line of sight, she froze. The cellar. Her lungs tightened instinctually. The memory's were coming back again. Slowly, Roa stepped toward the doors. Snaveling tried to stop her.

"Why would you go down that way, Roa? Nothing is down there," he said casually, but Roa could read the desperation in his voice. Toby stopped walking and could only gape. Roa's face had hardened completely. Now I remember. The barrels were blocking my path becuase... becuase... Roa turned and ran. She needed air, fresh air. She inwardly cried denial, but the memories did not stop, and it could not be denied. Snaveling... he trapped me... he left me to die!

Galadel was at her side in an instant. Valthalion came running as well. Toby had followed outside as fast as his hobbit legs could carry him- which was surprisingly fast. Only Snaveling did not rush to them. He followed her out cautiously, keeping a safe distance. Galadel produced a strange liquid and forced it down Roa's throat. Immediately, her breathing slowed. Galadel muttered something to Toby, who immediately set about dispelling the curious onlookers. With some fast words, he calmed their fears and suspicions, and they left. Valthalion helped Roa to a spot under the shade to rest a minute. Roa's face lost all expresion as she looked at Snaveling, who slowly making his way to their position.

"Why do you hesitate, sir? I gave my word that no harm would come to you through me, and my word stands, no matter how I regret it." He came and stood in front of her. "Help me to stand, Valthalion." The young man pulled her to her feet and supported her.

"Has you memory returned... my lady?" Snaveling questioned quietly. Roa noted the formal address. Friend no more, then.. "It has indeed, sir. From this day forth I release you from my bond. You are free to come and go as you please. I wish for you to never enter my sight again." Her voice stayed flat, her face blank, and her eyes would not look at him. I would have burned and it would not have kept sleep from him! It was with great restraint she turned from him. Facing Galadel, she surprised to see the sadness reflected in the Elfwoman's eyes. Roa was more surprised to feel the deep sadness within herself.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman turned flusteredly to Grimm and Cree and even in her business couldn't help smiling at them as they stood there in front of her. Her arm was hooked through his elbow, she was nestled slightly into his side, he stood so close by her - they fitted together naturally like the pieces of a well made puzzle. Aman smiled, then turned back to the question asked of her.

"What to do...no, I don't think there is anything now, Cree, Grimm - you're back to being guests at the Inn once more!" She beamed at them and added inwardly with a flush of happiness and pride, and soon Mr Meriadoc will be as well, then with slight worry, and so will Cook.

Cook...what would Vinca think of the Inn as it was now? To Aman's eyes, it was beautiful now, possibly even more than it had been before, just because it had been built up in front of Aman's eyes. Tokens and gifts from several Inn members adorned the walls and Common Room - a bunch of flowers from two young hobbit lasses, sitting in a rescued and restored vase on one of the windowsills, a charcoal drawing of the Shire from one of the elves, a carving of the Inn's name, entwined with a dragon above the fireplace, the magnificent doors. Even the Innkeeper herself bore some of the kind customer's work - her hair was tied back with two long, green ribbons, which matched her eyes almost perfectly. In all the new rooms of the Inn, Aman could see the craftmanship and kindess of the volunteers who had been so selflessly helpful (although she had her misgivings about a few...), people of all sorts, helping to build back a community that several of them didn't even know well. Such kindness was more than Aman had ever expected, and it delighted her in everything she now saw in the beautifully restored Green Dragon.

But the work was not over yet, for when such an achievement is reached, the work cannot go unrewarded. And, as Aman had found out last time there had been a party at the Dragon, for the naming ceremony of Mithadan and Pio's beautiful twins, a girl and a boy, there was nowhere that did parties at quite the same scale as the Shire. Still, they had managed it last time, in only a few days; over the past ten days they had managed to virtually rebuild half the Inn, all before Cook could see the damage (the last few beams and tiles were being fixed into place even now). To work out a whole party so quickly and for everyone who had helped and more? Sure, 'twould be no problem....right?

As Aman thought this, she finished climbing the stairs up to the attic, or the guest quarters as they were now (Pio and Mithadan's room last), and then approached the round window looking out across the green pleasantness of the Shire, swinging it open easily on well-oiled hinges. Then, hitching up her skirt, she climbed onto the sill - but not to do anything drastic, of course, not on such a delightful day when all was so well! Instead of throwing herself off as some who did not know the Innkeeper so well may have thought, Aman then turned around, spinning on her heels on her precarious top floor perch, then, gripping the grooves between the bricks firmly with her slim fingers, she put her right foot onto the top of the window and pulled herself up once more, so her chest was level with the roof. Then, with arms made strong from heaving bricks these past days and from handling half-wild colts her whole life, Aman pulled herself up, spinning mid-jump to sit neatly on the edge. Then, relaxing on the perch she had made hers, the blue folds of her dress hanging down over crossed, swinging feet, the faint, pleasant breeze ruffling the loose strands of her hair very slightly, the Innkeeper gave a great, contented sigh and smiled.

[SonOfBombadil]

Ferumbras Whitfoot from Bywater

Ferumbras rode on his cart over the earthen road. He was moving slightly slowly because of the heavy load that his poor pony was hauling. But it was alright, it was a glorious day, and he had the whole day ahead of him. He rounded a corner and saw his destination, The Green Dragon Inn. He knew exactly where to go, but the inn looked so different. It was true! And the inn had been rebuilt. Then he had come for the right reason, and he was sure he'd have success.

As Ferumbras approached the inn, he noticed that a lot of hustle and bustle was going on, and a lot of people were going in and out of the inn. He slowed his cart, and then brought it to a halt in front of the building. The hobbit jumped down and looked around. He then noticed a young woman sitting on the roof of the inn. "Excuse me miss," he called up to her, "could you please tell me where I could find a Miss Amanduial?"

[Lumiel]

In her time with Fungrim, short though it had been, all traces of the willful orphan Indy seemed to have disappeared. She nearly glowed, smiling always and finding new things to learn everyday. She had clothes on her back, a roof over her head, food, and a friend.

She sat at a table with Fungrim, nibbling at some bread and cheese for lunch. At first, Fungrim had seemed somewhat distant and uncomfortable with her, but he seemed to open up more and more each day. She was proud of the work that she had done with Fungrim, the stonework she had helped with would last for longer than she would in all likelyhood. Fungrim took a gulp from his mug and Indy turned to look at him inquisitively.

"Fungrim, do you have a family?" she asked with a half-mouthful of bread.

"What?" asked Fungrim. Her words had been partially garbled, but there still seemed to be something else to his question.

Indy swallowed and spoke again. "Do you have a family? You know, a mom and dad...brothers and sisters...or were you an orphan like me?" She picked at her bread, her small legs swinging to an unknown and irregular rhythm from her chair, short of touching the floor. She seemed oblivious to the sudden discomfort of the dwarf caused by her question, a question of his past.

[Memory of Trees]

Lyra stared down at her bare, brown feet, watching the dust puff up in little clouds around her ankles as she trod along the path. Her clothes were already a dusty rust color, so it did not matter about the dirt. She wasn’t one to worry about such things, anyway.

Tall and boyish in figure, it wasn’t that Lyra wasn’t a pretty girl. Long black hair and heavy eyelashes softened her dark features, making her attractive in that simple way that is so appealing to those who cherish beauty. A firm jaw and appraising eye spoke of hidden strength, and they spoke truth. She simply didn’t care, and there was nothing more to be said.

Mid-morning always put Lyra in high spirits, and as she walked along, she began to hum softly. It was an effortless tune, a lullaby or some such song that she could vaguely recall hearing, and she improvised when the notes in her head ran out. The weather was fine, and all was well.

Lyra saw the sign, sticking up like beacon on the dusty road, welcoming weary travelers. The Green Dragon Inn. Lyra began to hum once more.

In time, she arrived at the doorstep of the inn. She stepped in without the least bit of hesitation, and blinked several times to adjust to the lesser lighting. What she saw pleased her. The inn was bright and clean, very different from the cheap taverns where she had been sleeping. The place seemed to be under construction, but it didn’t bother her – she could handle a little noise, certainly.

Lyra must have made a funny sight as she stood there in the doorway. She was dressed in cut-off boy’s trousers, with an odd, tight shirt that hung down calf-length in the back. It was black, very ragged, and she wore no shoes. She must have seemed foreign and half-wild, standing in front of the door with the sun turning her outline to gold. But as we have said, Lyra did not care.

A young woman was behind the counter, wiping them down with an air of maternal pride that gave a great deal of indication to who she was. Lyra stepped forward, her bare feet making a soft padding noise as she walked. The woman looked up.

Lyra raised her chin: her tone was oddly imperious. “I want something to eat,” she said.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Regin took a step backwards to look at the newly completed Inn. Admiring the fine handiwork, Regin felt his chest swell with pride. Everyone had done a splendid job. The work had been completed nearly a week ahead of schedule, thanks to the persistence of the crew and his own hard headed determination. What a proud day it was for the folk of the Green Dragon!

Regin had put the finishing touches on the Inn gate not a day before. A roaring dragon etched in iron now greeted all who made their way up the road. Regin had done the metalwork himself, being the only person there with such intricate skill in metal. The Dragon spread its wings and clenched its massive talons around an oak trunk. For a comedic touch, Regin had spread a broad and leering smile across the face of the beast. Below the roaring dragon, embossed letters proclaimed, “Welcome to the Green Dragon Inn.” Surely any weary traveler would not pass up an Inn with a gate as grand as this, thought Regin. Pleased with his work, the Dwarf now turned to more pressing business.

Regin slipped away to his new chamber in the Inn where he had hidden his surprise. He would need to plan when he would present this. He searched for Aman to talk with her about planning the upcoming party, but could not find her anywhere. He had just about given up looking, when he spied her perched on the sill of the attic window and later on the roof itself.

He called up apprehensively, “Mistress Aman ,what in the world are you doing up there? You'd best get down before you fall.”
In the past, Regin had saved a pair of hobbits from certain injury when a rickety rope broke as they were climbing up, so he had a healthy skepticism of places that were too far above his head.

Scrambling up the steps to the attic, he poked his head out the casement and caught the Innkeeper's eye, “I have come to ask you about the rebuilding party. During the celebration, would it be possible for me to briefly address the workers. I wish to offer them my gratitude, and perhaps a special boon I have prepared. What do you say?”

[rutslegolas]

Harold now had some food and then went on with his business ,Alwin his companinon had left him to tend the gardens almost destroyed by the horses and the ponies,and now Harold turned his attention to more pressing matters himself,Regin Handhammer had asked him to put up a board above the fireplace depicting Shire pictures and the name of the Inn.Regin had himself made the board at the entrance of the Inn ,so Harold feeling that he too should complete his own board got to work instantly.

"MY my how forgetfull i have become ?",said Harold realising that he had'nt had any wood left after he had made the chairs and tables in the common room.

'So where would i get some wood?',he thought,'of course let me ask Regin himself'.So putting out his pipe he went in search of Regin.....

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The truth was out at last. Snaveling stood silent as Roa accused him of leaving her to burn, for there was nothing he could say. As the story came out, unopposed by the silent gray Man who now stood apart somewhat from the strange company that had before enclosed and comforted him, the air of the yard began to change. Val’s eyes were once more filled with the hatred and disgust that he had felt for Snaveling upon their first meeting; even Toby turned a glance to Snaveling that was bitter and chill. The hobbit did not need to ask the Man if the accusations were true, for it was Roa who was accusing, and Snaveling who was accused. Only Galadel appeared unsurprised, but her look was one of sadness and, Snaveling feared, disappointment.

When Roa concluded by releasing Snaveling from his bond, he felt no joy and no comfort. Wordlessly, he turned his back upon his companions and walked back to the stables to collect his meager belongings. As he dragged his feet across the ground of the yard, he could feel the eyes of the curious following him as he went. He clutched the small iron amulet that hung about his neck and disappeared into the darkness of the stables.

It did not take him long to gather up his few meager possessions and put them into his ragged pockets. He took his travel-stained cloak from the nail where it had hung these past two weeks and threw it about his shoulders. He turned and faced out the door of the stable into the blazing sun. He did not move – for he did not know where he was going.

He paused. It seemed to him that he should know where to go. At least, he felt that he should know what he was seeking, but even the memory of the hunting lodge that had been his dream was now gone, leaving only a chill and barren space in his spirit. Melancholy came over him like a suffocating blanket and his vision went dark. His shoulders slumped in defeat and, for a moment, he gave way to the uttermost despair. It was perhaps the darkest moment of his life, and it almost overwhelmed his spirit completely. But he had not walked in the wild places of the world all those empty years without learning how to combat the grim defeat of the lonely man. He shook his shoulders and straightened his back. He forced himself to step out the stables and into the yard once more.

Before him lay the road that led away from the Inn and to all the lands beyond. Looking neither right nor left, he began to walk…

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Nothing to do? I guess then eveything is under control. Aman has worked so hard, just like everyone else. Cree turned to look at Grimm, her eyes fixed on his. "So now what? Do we just go back and sit down?" Cree tried to relax but couldn't. She seemed out of place in a world with so much trouble. My life is now perfect. What more could I ask for? I just want to be happy and now I am. Perfect.... Just perfect.

It was easy to see the tension building up inside her. No doubt Grimm could feel it too. Cree tried to smile but it only made matters worse. "Grimm can we go sit down some wheres. I feel almost as if I'm going to faint." Cree layed her hand over her face. She thought her world was going to implode on her. Can I have so much and loose it.

Cree could feel a tear roll down her cheek. She didn't know why she would cry over something so natural for her. "Grimm I don't want to loose you, not now, not ever." Her gray eyes reflected Grimm's face. Every feature that Cree seemed to find comforting. Her life was better now with Grimm. She layed her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to loose you."

[bilbo_baggins]

As he arrived at the hill over Bywater, he came up to the Green Dragon! Oooh! That elfen witchy character looked positively creepy with her companion! Ah, well! Shouldn't judge by appearances, howener pretty or ugly, as his gaffer tended to say of a time.

Now for an ale and maybe a bit of labor, aye that would cheer him up no end. But what ho, the Inn is near finished! The scallywags! they had gone and done it again, they had done the work without him. Oh, well. As much as can be avoided should, as his gaf... Arrghh! He must have that ale and forget certain things.

-------

Ponto sipped the ale, and stared at the others nearby, elves and hobbits; mainly hobbits. So many people, so many. He had not been near so many since the days of the fire..... Siiiip!!!! He had to forget!

All of his past, all the things he done for his love, for naught! Why must he remember! It was always too painful a thing to broach. With the stopper unplugged, it all came down on him in a flood. All, from the fire to the awakening, to all the women scorning, to his late companion Oin Stealthanvil, to his gaffer Smallburrow. Why? He nearly wept with the force of emotion pouring over his self.

He had to have come here, to this Inn, this bustling place full of so many people. He would leave soon.

[Kransha]

Tobias Hornblower wasn’t sure what to do or say. He stood, face set in stone, thinking hard. He had known that Snaveling was underhanded, but this went far beyond illicit behavior. Foul thoughts had passed between Roa and Snaveling too fast and strong for him to decipher, but he knew their bond was indeed broken and possibly never to be salvaged. In an instant, before Toby could think of anything to say, Snaveling, looking dejected, disappeared like a beaten shadow, fading as the sun’s light hit it. The hobbit didn’t move in the least, the rivers of his mind running faster than ever before.

“Is there nothing to be done?” he said at last, not quite sure why he said it. The words flowed out of pursed lips, which sealed themselves as soon as the phrase was uttered. No one responded, each person looking strangely subdued by the happenings, as was the elder gentlehobbit.

A sudden surge of unknown energy lanced through him as his feet began moving without knowing exactly where they were going. He fled swiftly from the grounds where Roa and Galadel were and heedlessly towards the stable area. He caught sight of the man directly outside, carrying both physical and mental burdens upon him. He bore his traveling cloak and his pockets and the bags that hung at his sides contained the possessions he had brought to the Green Dragon. It didn’t take Toby more than a moment to figure out what was going on. Snaveling was leaving.

Again, his thoughts raced, going in directions they had never attempted to travel in the past. He could do any number of things, follow many paths to different ends, but one path lay before him. Tobias Hornblower had to admit that he didn’t want Snaveling to go, though the fact struck harshly at his pride. He had a friend in the shady man, and friends in Roa and Galadel. He had become a new hobbit in a week, doing things he never thought himself possible of. If Snaveling left, every achievement of his would fade. Toby walked swiftly towards the man, not even having time to consider his words before them began ushering out of him regardless of his thoughts.

“Snaveling,” He said weakly, proceeding alongside the defeated man, “It is apparent to me that you and Miss Roa are not on the best of terms at the moment. It is also apparent that you may be considering fleeing from here. Though you may scorn my opinions, I beseech you, do not act so rashly. Remain here and right whatever wrongs have caused this depression. The party will lift your spirits, I promise you. Stay at least until then.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman squinted down, opening her eyes and emerging from the blissful state she had been in, and looked down to the newcomer, shading her eyes against the still-rising sun. A hot-looking, pleasant faced individual sat in the seat of a pony cart, looking back up at her.

"Can you tell me where to find Miss Amanaduial, miss?" He repeated his question. Aman smiled, her face still cast in the shadow of her hand.

"You have found her, good sir - I am Amanaduial, Innkeeper of this place, although people rarely call me by my full name," she called down. "Give me a moment - we shall talk more easily in the Common Room."

The man nodded and Aman turned quickly, sliding down agilely into the window to land with practised half-ease beside the cot that had been used for the twins and which was bathed in half light. Looking back outside, Aman let herself soak up a few more blissful moments of the calm and peace of the beautiful Shire, then turned to dart quickly downstairs and into the Common Room, and slipping under the bar as she saw a few people waiting for drinks - back to routine, she thought, with a trace of pride. Tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind one ear, she looked around again for the newcomer who had saluted her...

[SonOfBombadil]

Ferumbras Whitfoot

Well of course she's the innkeeper, anyone can see that! Ferumbras told himself as he walked up the new wood steps. It's a wonderful day, and would make anyone with such a nice new inn want to climb on a roof. He walked in and looked around. He saw people all over the place doing this and that. Most looked busy, as if preparing for something, but a few were sitting on the chairs and stools having an ale or two.

Ferumbras then noticed, who he recognized as the innkeeper from the roof. He walked over to her. "Hello Miss Amanduial, my name is Ferumbras Whitfoot." The hobbit said, in a polite, cheerful manner. "Am I correct that this inn is newly built because your last one had a bit of an incident with a fire?" "Yes, that was this inn, but..." came a quickly cut-off reply. "Well then, I just might have a proposal that should be appealing to you." Ferumbras waited for a reply, while he caught his breath.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim sighed and took another draught from his mug. This was exactly where he did'nt want the conversation to go. His banishment from the ancestral hold of his kin was like a wound he had carried for years, keeping him in hurt and threatening to drive him crazy. Talking about it was too painfull.. or was it?.

He was supprised to realize that it did'nt hurt quite so much anymore, and if he was honest with himself, somewhat dissapointed, sad even.
Yet he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that the wound was begining to heal. He had adapted to a lonely life in the wilds, and of late he had started to care less and less about his past.
He tried to tell himself that he should be happy, that he could turn a new page, start a new life. And yet, all the things he had loved and cared about, his family, his life in the hold surrounded by his kin, was sinking into the swamp of oblivion. He found that he could'nt even remember his father properly. All that was left was a dull echo of old memories, like a shadow reflected onto the wall of a cave, disstorted and unreal.
At that moment, he disscovered that he was indeed an exile. All vague hopes he had harboured of one day returning to his family were splintered.

"No, Indy. I have no family."

"Did they die?" the girl asked, her small voice filled with sympathy.

Saddly, Fungrim shook his head.

"To them, I am dead."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The party Snaveling heard Toby say. He paused in his tracks and turned toward his friend. Looking down at the fellow he stood there with his mouth agape. "The party?" he repeated.

"Yes yes yes," the gentlehobbit's words came as fast as they could. "The party tonight, to honour us for rebuilding the Inn. There's to be ale and wine and the best leaf; nobody has a party like we in the Shire, so you must stay. . ." and he trailed off into silence.

The party, Snaveling thought. The idea of going to a celebration seemed ludicrous to him, given what had just transpired. He looked across the yard to where Roa sat with Val and Galadel. Roa avoided his glance, while Val returned it with venemous bile. The Elf woman looked at him with distant pity and merely nodded to him, as though in acknowledgment of some pact or private understanding. Snaveling looked back to Toby. "You wish me. . .to stay?" The Halfling nodded his head vigorously. "But," Snaveling stammered, "I have been dismissed" dismissed? "I mean, released by Roa; I am free to go."

"But where in this Middle-Earth will you go, " Toby cried with apparent desperation. "I thought you wanted to get some land hereabouts and settle down. How many times in these past few days have I heard you talk about the lonely years you've spent alone in the Wild? I know that we Shirefolk can appear ridiculous and small to some from the Outside, but you've seen that we are a good sensible folk to live with."

Snaveling could not believe what he was hearing. "But," his thoughts were whirling. "But, I could have killed Roa, I. . ." He caught back a strange strangled knot in the back of his throat. "How could you possibly want me to stay?"

Toby looked at the ground and said very softly, "Because you are our friend." He looked up into Snaveling's eyes once more. "All of us, you stupid Man. Me, Galadel, Roa -- maybe not Val, not yet at any rate, but he'll come around." He smiled and Snaveling had to join him. "Just come to the party tonight. I'm sure that you can find a way to fix this with Roa. She's in a fury now, but as my old father used to say 'If it's breakable it's fixable'."

Snaveling looked at the Halfling in silence, then turned and looked down the Road. I have done Roa a great wrong, he thought, at the very least, I should try to find some way pay that debt. Even as he thought this, there came to him as a distant echo, like the memory of wind in the night, the sound of birdsong in a valley, and for a moment he caught a fleeting glimpse of stone patio in the sun, perfect for smoking. Where is this place? But the vision was gone. He shook his head and turned back to Toby.

"All right, Toby, I will stay for the party and try to find a way to speak with Roa. I have no hope that she will forgive me, but no-one will be able to say that I did not try."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne was hard at work trying to repair the damage that the ponies had done to the gardens. She'd managed to spruce up the flower beds, removing the half eaten blossoms and substituting others that she'd found in her walk along the banks of The Water. The herbs and vegetables were a more difficult propoposition. It had taken many long afternoons to find the stock of seedlings that she'd planted in the rear courtyard of the Inn. How would she ever replace them in such a short time?

Slowly, an idea formed in her head. Perhaps she could get some help from her former Nanny. Daffodil had been touring the West Farthing for several weeks along with several members of the Gamgee family while the Inn was being rebuilt. Now, she and the Gamgees had returned to Bag-end; Samwise wanted to come to the party at the Dragon, especially since his old friend Merry was expected to attend.

Of all the homes in Hobbiton and Bywater, Bag-end was still reputed to have the most beautiful flowers. No matter how much work Mayor Samwise had to do, he always saved time to keep his flower and herb gardens in tiptop shape. Plus, the Gamgee children were now old enough to help their father in his work, learning to plant, weed, and water the flower and vegetable beds.

Hawthorne decided that this might be a good time to visit Nanny Daffodil at Bag-end, and drop a few gentle hints about her carefully tended beds of herbs and salad greens that the ponies had trampled. A nice floral arrangement to grace the central table in the party room would also be of help. Hawthorne quickly slipped on her one spare dress -- all her others had been lost in the blaze -- and scampered out the door in the direction of Bag-end. She would need to carry out her errand quickly, since Regin had told her to be back soon to help with the party preparations.

[Lumiel]

Indy did not understand. Fungrim's family had not died, but yet he was dead to them? For her young mind this was a cryptic message beyond her understanding. Yet he had used death in his answer, so the feeling of it, if not the true reality of it, was in Fungrim's heart.

Indy looked at the dwarf with large, sympathetic eyes. She might not understand exactly what it was that he meant, but she did understand the pain of death, of losing loved ones. On an impulse, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug and kissed his cheek. Fungrim patted her head and sighed. Sitting back down, she gazed at him with fawn eyes, thinking.

"Fungrim," she started softly, her small voice serious, "will you be my family?" she asked with sincerity. Fungrim turned to her, having been shaken out of his remembrance of a painful past.

"I'm not sure you'd want a dwarf, let alone me for family, Indy." he said to her. It wouldn't be right for him to replace his own family, no matter how lost they were to him. Besides, his lifestyle could never accomadate the needs of Indy, she was too young. She needed a mother and a father, and brothers and sisters too.

"But you're the only one I've got. No one else has ever cared for me like you have. No one else ever paid attention to me." she paused. "But if you want me to, I'll leave." she added, having misunderstood the intent of Fungrim's answer. Tears came to her eyes and she turned away, brushing them away angrily. She hated tears, she hated to look weak like this.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim gently placed his hand on Indy's shoulder and pulled the child to himself. She truned to face him, tears streaming from her eyes, trying furiously to wipe them away. He picked her up easily and placed her into his lap, holding her in a tight hug. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.

"Indy," he said in a gentle voice. "I dont want you to leave. But you must understand Indy, that I cant be your family."

Indy gave another sobb and continued to try wiping the tears away from her small face and eyes.

"You need someone who can look after you proper, someone who's got a roof over their head and who can provide you with a happy and safe childhood. I cant do neither."

"My paths are dangerous ones, lassie. I have taken it upon me to never cease the battle I have taken as my own, and though I am weary, weary beyond belief, I cant stop now."

He pulled out a red silk hankerchief he had borrowed from one of the little folk. Gingerly he wiped away the tears from the childs eyes. She looked up at him sad and puzzled by his words.

"But, Indy, you are my friend, my only friend in the world. And friends are for life, eh?".

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman smiled at the hobbit, catching her breath slightly, and he was obviously doing the same. In answer to her question, she said, "Yes, that was this Inn, but-"

"Well then, I just might have a proposal that should be appealing to you." The hobbit cut her off quickly and with an air of slight triumph. The Innkeeper paused, regarding him; she didn't like interruptions of any form, especially from people who she didn't know. However, it was rather hard to dislike this hobbit, and she stuck out a hand.

"First things first, sir - I shouldn't like to take any sort of proposition from someone I didn't even know the name of. You already know I am Aman, the Innkeeper of this fine Green Dragon, but who may you be? I'm afraid I didn't catch your name before. And then we shall move onto such propositions," she finished, smiling as she waited for the man to take her hand.

[Angry Brandybuck]

"I've been the White Rover nigh on twenty year,
So come sweet lassie and give me a beer!"

That wasn't quite right, but Angry would work on it later. He was nearing the inn now and didn't want anyone to hear him singing. There had been enough talk of him being unhinged as it was. He was in high spirits, however, and he wouldn't let anyone bring him down as he guided Old McFurly's horse and trap down the road toward the inn, that when he left had been a smoking wreck.

Now, however, it was anything but! The work these people had done in such a short time was incredible. He just wished that he had not had to travel to see his parents, but all was well, it had given him a good opportunity.

He pulled up outside the inn and got down. He was just struggling to remove one of the huge barrels of Brand Oak Bitter from the back of the trap when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Hello stranger" said Crystal

[Kitanna]

A dwarf and a woman, quite the unusual pair. They had been on the road since before the sun this day and they were both tired a hungry. "What about stopping here?" The woman, Peony, suggested.

Deva stroked his long beard. "The Green Dragon? I haven't stayed here before, but it looks as good a places as any. Come on then, let's go get ourselves a room."

Peony followed Deva into the inn and it was a nice little place. The two must have looked an odd pair. A short, brownhaired, long bearded dwarf. And a tall, frail looking woman with long red hair and sharp green eyes.

"I'll get us a room, Peony." Deva said as he headed to the front desk.

Peony nodded and looked for a place to sit down. Her feet were tired and she wasn't going to be able to stand much longer. She found a table in the back and hoped Deva would find her when he returned. Meanwhile she looked around for someone to talk to.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon looked up. The sun was in her eyes and hay in her hair. Ravon stood up and began pulling hay from her hair. "Now to find Lewis." She left the barn and began her search for her friend. "Lewis!" All she could remember was falling asleep by the tree. How she got to the barn remained a mystery. She walked to the inn and noticed a familar figure.

"Lewis!" Ravon ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I have missed you. How did I get to the barn?" She had a smile on her face that seemed to stretch from pointy ear to pointy ear. Ravon couldn't remember the last time she was so happy. All her life she was always in pain over a lost friend. Now she was happy and didn't want to end her happiness.

[bilbo_baggins]

Not knowing where to go, the poor hobbit called Ponto stumbled and turned about in a slightly drunken stupor. He felt he should make a friend to help him if he should pass out, as there were things on his person he would feel better watched as he slept.

"Hello, how are you?" he asked a person walking past, "What is your name?"

"Harold, and yours?" the passerby asked.

"Ponto, sir. Ponto Smallburrow," was the simple reply, "Do you know the innkeeper?"

"Yes, urm; ah! there she is! There is Aman." Harold pointed at a young pretty woman with amazing blond hair, talking with a hobbit like himself. Ponto saw they were tense, a trifle uneasy.

"Well, thank you, Harold. I will see you later, perhaps?"

"Yes, well um, quite..." he mumbled as he walked off, speaking of finding some Regin character.

----------

As he approached the Innkeeper, he could hear snatches of their conversation, "...and then we shall move on to such propositions." She held out her hand for the other hobbit to shake.

"Eh, excuse me, miz. Aman, I believe?"

"Yes?" She replied, while hardly moving a muscle.

"I was wondering where I might find a room? I'll not be staying long." Ponto said.

"Ah, yes. They're through there." She gestured towards a corridor.

"Well, thank you, miz." Ponto started for the corridor entrance. He glanced behind and saw the Innkeeper extend her hand again to the stranger she was conversing with. "I hope it turns out alright, whate'er they're talking 'bout."

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis heard his name being called, so he stood up, and turned towards the familiar voice. Without warning, Ravon had thrown her arms around him and was smiling her big, beautiful smile. "I have missed you. How did I get to the barn?" she asked him.

'Oh, I carried you up there once you had fallen asleep, I didn't want you to get cold outside." Lewis answered with a smile. He was happy to see her, his morning had been empty so far without her. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

[Angel_Queen]

"How did you sleep?" Ravon knew the question would be asked but she didn't know how to answer him. She slept good but the dreams were what bothered her the most. Ravon smiled.
"Well I slept good but that was only between nightmares." The word made her want to run away. She didn't know what had caused the nightmares to start with. She sat down on the grass and began to think about the dreams.
"I was being chased by someone or something. I don't know what it was. When it caught up with me the only thing I remember is seeing you come in and...." Ravon looked down at the ground. "I tried to stop it but I couldn't. The beast.. the blood.. The screams."

Ravon knew her dream meant nothing. All it was there for was to make her sleep more pleasant. Yet how could it when all she could do was scream everytime she woke up. "I know it doesn't mean anything but Lewis I don't want to loose you. You have made everything better for me."

As much as she wanted to cry she couldn't. For some reason all the tears had dried up. It was either that or she had lost all sense of feelings or emotions. She had changed so much over the years of her life. She was grown now, no longer able to hide. Ravon had to face her fears and conquer them before they conquered her.

[Galadel Vinorel]

Galadel could not say anything when Roa released Snaveling from her. It seemed as if the calming words that she wished to say were caught deep in her throat. She choked baack the tears that wished to come from her eyes and looked at Roa sadly. "Oh why, Roa?" she thought to herself, "It is not supposed to appen this way." Galaadel's heart was beating very fast alll of a sudden. "What is wrong with me?" And then a memory came, one from when she was only a young adult, a memory that she had spent years trying to forget.

"Sister!" said a young voice. The voice echoed through the woods of Lothlorien as a young elf girl with flowing golden hair and bare feet ran through the sweet grass of her homeland. "Sister come back here. Mama and Papa warned us not to go tooo far away. You are going to get me in trouble. I was supposed to keep an eye on you," said the girl, searchingly from side to side as she ran desperately, with increasing speed.
Suddenly a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the forest. It was the scream of a terrified little child. Immediately the running girl halted, a horrifed look upon her face. "Yarvenel!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Then she began to run faster, with all the strength that she had towards the direction of the scream.
When she had reached one of the meadows she stopped to catch her breath, and that's when she saw her. In the middle of the meadow, her own blood staining the grass red around her, laid a small child, blonde hair also stained almost completely red by the blood streaming forth from the wound on her head. "Oh no! Yarvenel!" creid the older girl. Running to her sister, she fell upon her knees, tears streaming down her face. "What happened?"
The child's eyes fluttered open, a a tired and pained look in her eyes. "I'm sorry sister. I thought that I could climb the tree to touch the pretty bird, but I fell. I'm sorry for running away," said Yarvenel softly. "It's allright, little one. Everything will be fine now," said the older girl sadly.


"But there was no helping her," thought Galadel as the memory faded from her, "I could not save her. But I won't let myself make the same mistake twice. I must do something to heal this fued between Roa and Snaveling. Snaveling must not leave yet."

Galadel then stood up from where she had been seating. Leaving a confused Roa and Val behind her, the elf walked firmly towards the Inn's road where Toby and Snaveling stood talking.