The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[nynnd1]

Bredan was on his sixth mug of ale, and still going steady. He could feel people looking at him disapprovingly, he guessed for drinking this early and also drinking this much this early. The Hobbit lass behind the bar came near enough to him for Bredan to request what he had been requesting throughout the morning, though it was not what he really needed. A clear head would have served Bredan better, especially with his current circumstance, he was just about to find out what Miss Aman thought about him when they had been rudely interrupted, he had made up his mind, or rather the drink had made up his mind for him.

He had decided that Snaveling was an old flame of Aman’s, they had an argument, all Snaveling’s fault obviously. And now Snaveling felt jealous of Bredan getting close to Aman, for he saw the look in Aman’s eyes directed to Bredan. Bredan himself was not to sure what the look was, but Bredan after a few drinks was certain that she liked him. Bredan looked around the inn, people enjoying there selves, eating breakfast, talking about him and staring like he was some animal to be looked upon, in the corner there was a couple, laughing and kissing each other, Bredan could feel jealousy breaking down the walls of his heart and consuming him.

The door opened and a mass of morning light shot through and hit Bredan’s eyes, he squinted and turned away, blinking to try and get the light from his eyes.

“I will have another drink now please maid” Bredan directed his speech at the maid, he had started to slur his words, and his vision was no longer perfect.

“If you must” was the reply.

“Well I must, for this morning the ale is acting as a killer of pain for my heart”, or so Bredan thought all it was doing was raising jealousy and anger in his mind and heart. Bredan drank this one a lot quicker than any he had drunk before, as this thought stuck in his head.

“And another please” he slurred out to the maid.

“I think you have had enough” she said back.

“Oh ok.” His voice getting louder. “ You know when I have had enough, but is my custom not welcome here, am I not good enough for your service,” Bredan waited to collect his thought’s. “I have had enough.” He said getting up.

[piosenniel]

Please Note:

Time will move forward in the Inn tomorrow, Monday, early a.m.

At present it is mid-morning.

Tomorrow it will be moved to mid-afternoon.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Son of Númenor]

“Who am I?”

“I’ve no notion who you are, but what you are seems plain enough: a feckless vagrant, that's what!” said a voice in reply.

“Well, since you’ve no notion who I am, and I’ve no notion who I am either, I can only beg you to help me stand up, and perhaps offer me a cup of tea,” said the nameless man at length, cracking open his eyes and propping himself up on one sore elbow.

“Lor bless me, the nerve of some people these days!” cried a fat, chestnut brown hobbit. “You’ve had a good night’s rest on the top of my flower patch! Mrs. Longholes will grind you into mulch when she sees this! And you've got the boldness to ask me for tea?”

“I wouldn’t call it a good night’s rest,” said the nameless man. “Would you be so kind as to help me up at least?”

“I would,” said the hobbit, “but only because you are squatting in my wife’s favorite patch. If I saw you in the same shape anywhere else, I’d leave you for dead!”

The hobbit extended his plump, earthy hand. With more than a little effort, the nameless man lifted his much larger gloved hand and clasped the hobbit’s. Then, with a great sigh, he began to heave himself up off the ground. The task proved quite difficult, with the hobbit huffing and grunting as he pulled the much heavier Man. In the end, the hobbit’s efforts were in vain, and the nameless man had to summon all his strength to stand himself up.

“There, you’re up, and you’ve done in my back for good!” said the hobbit, glaring up at the man. “Now be off, and learn to respect other folk’s property.”

“No cup of tea?” asked the man, rubbing the back of his head and standing hunched over. He was a messy sight, his face haggard, his brown beard unkempt and his long dark hair clinging to his head in greasy disarray.

“Why you—you’d be lucky if I gave you a cup of spiders from my garden!” said the hobbit through clenched teeth.

“Very well,” said the man. “Can you direct me to an inn?”

“The Green Dragon’s just a short way down the street. Now be off, before I call Hal Whitfoot!”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” said the nameless man. Acting on some foggy recollection, he pulled four gold coins out of the left pocket of his tattered coat and handed them to the hobbit. “Perhaps that will pay for a few begonia seeds to replace the ones I slept on,” he said with a smile, and then was off.

He wandered down the unpaved road, past hobbit holes, garden patches and an old mill. The sun was still rising in the pale sky, and gusty wind was blowing from the east. Looking out from the vantage point of a small hill beside the path, he saw storm clouds brewing in that direction, riding the wind towards the Shire.

The Green Dragon was around a bend, a few yards removed from the path. The nameless man walked through the creaky front door, crouching to avoid hitting his head. Instantly, he was greeted with the smell of fried eggs, tomatoes and sausages, mingled with the stale odor of Longbottom Leaf smoked the night before.

“Good morning and welcome to the Green Dragon,” said a staggeringly beautiful and entirely unexpected woman. “Are you seeking lodging, breakfast or both?” she said, smiling pleasantly.

“Just a cup of tea,” stammered the man, feeling slovenly and intrusive.

“Have a seat at any table you choose,” said the tall, strikingly golden-haired young woman. “As you can see, we’re not particularly busy now- elevensies has just past, and lunch won’t be served for an hour or so. My name is Aman. What shall I call you?”

Unsure of what to say, the nameless man placed his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with the contents. His hand touched something strange, a hard sliver that chilled his palm even through his thick leather glove. Pulling it out, he saw that it was a small shard from a blade, with faded runes still visible on its dulled surface. A flood of images swept through his mind, with no clear pattern and no clear theme. Visions played out before his eyes of two riders on horseback, the mouth of a cave, a flash of metal and a man lying motionless on the ground, propped against the gnarly trunk of a great tree.

“Your name?” said Aman, looking rather uneasily at her guest. He came out of his momentary trance.

“Úmarth,” he replied grimly, feeling the name come to his lips from he knew not where.

“Have you been long in the Shire?”

“Long enough to be familiar with the Halflings, their land and their ways, at least, or so it seems,” he said at length. “At any rate, I think I may need to make accomodations for lodging after all. And I’ll take a pint of ale with my tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman inclined her head with a slightly bemused, polite smile. "A...pint of ale and some tea, coming up, sir," she replied, as if this was the most ordinary request in the world, before she turned towards the bar to fulfil the request.

Having come down from the roof with Snaveling about half an hour ago, Aman had been surprised and relieved that Ruby did not actually intend to skin her alive - indeed, the hobbit actually seemed gratified that Aman was still in Middle Earth, as she had been utterly unable to locate the Innkeeper. As for Aman, despite having been Innkeeper for what amounted to many months at the Inn, she was not entirely sure about who was actually in charge, her or her hobbit servers, and was strangely glad that Ruby hadn't told her off, something she had, ironically, expected.

It had taken some doing to get Snaveling down from the roof - he had been slightly worse at descending than ascending even, and once more had nearly fallen. He had certainly left the Innkeeper with a few things to muse on, anyway - for one thing, what was that secretive, knowing smile he had given her when she had said he 'couldn't be much older than she was'. Most odd.... The Man had taken his leave of her not long afterwards, vanishing, and Aman had not seen him since. Neither had she seen Bredan - and that was disquieting. She was worried about the impulsive Gondorian man...

Taking the pretty, dinky clay kettle off the stove just inside the kitchen as it came to the boil, Aman poured some into a teapot and let the brew stew for a few moments while she drew a pint of ale - this new man's second request. Taking teapot and cup in one hand and pint in the other, hooked a ready milk-jug with a spare finger before depositing the lot elegantly before Umarth and rearranging them into a neater order. "There you go, sir, some of the cook's finest Mulberry tea."

"Mulberry? Hmm." The single syllable seemed approving as the man took the cup, although his smile seemed rather worried still.

"Shall I put it on a tab, sir?"

A pause followed. Umarth seemed entirely taken up by stirring his tea.

"Sir?"

Evidently, there was something hypnotic about the stirring. However, much as it may have been Aman's heart's dearest, deepest wish to stand and watch the man stir his tea, the Innkeeper could feel her tired mind slowly being dragged into it's steamy depths... She tried again.

"Umarth?" she ventured this time. The man jerked up as if suddenly waking, looking a little confused for a split second as he peered at Aman. "A tab, sir?" Aman prompted.

"Ah yes....yes," he replied vaguely. Aman withdrew the hefty logbook from under the bar and slipped it onto the bartop in front of the man, to one side of his various beverages, producing a pen from her skirt and flicking deftly to the right page. "Alright, if you could sign here, and put your name in the Common...are you sure you're quite alright, Umarth?" The last part was added as she peered at the man's face. Frankly, she was curious - there was something very odd about this stranger. No doubt he'll fit right in...

[piosenniel]

Please Note:

Tomorrow, Monday, @ 9 a.m. Pacific time U.S., time in the Inn will move forward to midafternoon.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[SonOfBombadil]

Ferumbras looked at the little camp fire he had started with satisfaction. It had taken him much of the morning to get it going and to set up his invention. I may not be the best at starting fires, Ferumbras started, but I do know a thing or two about putting them out! He then turned towards the inn, about 30 yards away, to find Aman.

Ferumbras walked through the door, the smell of elvensies remnants, along with pipesmoke and freshly cut wood wafted through his nostrils. He scanned the room for the Rohirric innkeeper. Ah! There she is! Next to that.. um.. gentleman. The little hobbit scurried over.

Ferumbras started speaking in a business-like, yet friendly voice. "Pardon me misstress Aman, but I've set up a demonstration of my invention. If you and the other workers of the inn have half a moment, I'd love to show it to you in action." The sandy-gold haired hobbit smiled and hoped for a positive reaction.

[Gird]

Gird laughed a big and hearty laugh. "Does it ring any bells? Of course it does my dear miss. I used to work for your father, collecting stuff for his shop! I remember you now. You were only five or so last time I saw you. Now look at you, you've definitely grown up, that's for sure." Gird leaned back in his chair, marvelling at things past. He had only been a young lad at the time that he started working for Vahn. He worked for Vahn all the way up until...

"I beleive I was about sixteen when I left." Gird started. "The skills I had learned while looking for 'treasures' have certainly aided me in my life since then." A look came into Girds eyes as he reminisced about something. Or was it everything? his whole mysterious life and times before that seemed to flash all about him... He woke from his trance, and looked at Eleniel.

"They certainly have."

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon was glad to have Lewis there. After eating her breakfast Ravon walked outside to get some fresh air. It had been a while since she had gotten to walk outside without everyone else in the inn around. She turned to see that Lewis had followed her. Ravon could only smile at the only face she wanted to see. Ravon couldn't wait until she could go to Rohan with Lewis and see his home.

All she wanted to do was sit outside and enjoy nature all she could, while she could. Ravon wanted to stay with Lewis for as long as she could. "Lewis, perhaps there's more out there for us. Perhaps there is a life beyond the one we have here." Ravon's words trailed off in the wind. To her it was a beautiful day, even though she had heard that it was suppose to rain. She didn't care. The grass felt good on her elvish feet. She didn't have to worry about wearing any type of shoes.

Ravon remembered the first day she met Lewis and how fast she had began to like him. She knew that she shouldn't have done it but Lewis was there for her when she needed it. Lewis had helped change Ravon into what she was now.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"Isaac, I've told you all I know. I can't say anymore." Adu was furious since it seemed that Jack had come back into her life. "I try to forget it all. I have told you everything so now you'll have to figure everything else out on your own. I will not and I will never relive that part of my life." Adu placed the saddle on Count. She had decided that an afternoon ride would be good for the both of them.

She looked back at Isaac who was staring at her. Adu knew her words were harsh but wasn't suppose to strike him that hard. "Listen Isaac I'm sorry. Its hard for me to relive that part of my life. I can't stand it when I am forced to think of something so horrible." Adu wasn't telling Isaac the entire story.

Adu never saw his sword. All she saw was the horse at the tree. She had taken Rep back to Dorian. Jack had always talked about a brother he had, Adu had never met him. How many times will I have to remember that day. I can't tell Isaac everything. Isaac had a pleading look in his eyes. She couldn't handle it anymore. She told him about how Jack had told her that he wasn't going back to Dorian. Jack hated the way Dorian had treated Adu and wouldn't be able to see her being tormented. Adu was a great swordsman even if she was a woman but Jack didn't think Adu could last long under Dorian's command.

When she needed Jack the most he wasn't there. When Adu had returned with the horse Dorian had blamed her for Jack running away. Adu was made to clean up the stables, and wasn't allowed to join the others on the next journey. When I was punished for what Jack did, Hama was the one that stayed there to comfort me. I vowed that I would never go back to Jack or Dorian. When the day came for Adu to leave to find Crystal, Adu had decided that she needed to prove to Dorian that she could do it. She didn't have to rely on men to take care of her. She remembered being told that she was the elvish version of Eowyn.

"Isaac I only know that what Jack did after he abandoned me I don't know and I really don't care. I have had to live with the fact that when I needed him, he was never there. It's too late for him to come back to my life. I had almost banished him from my memories but you..." Adu stopped. She couldn't finish her sentence. What else can I do? Isaac will never make me remember the feelings I did have for Jack. All my emotions are dead now toward him. The day he left was the day he brought about his own down fall.