The White Horse Inn, Act III

[alaklondewen]

“Oh dear, here I have gone and misplaced my manners. Please forgive me, Miss. My name is Ælle, and I must say it is a pleasure to be standing in this lively inn of yours.” Ælle leaned once more on his cane as he heard the innkeeper scribbling on a paper. “I am overjoyed to hear you have a room for me, and what of these celebrations?” A friendly and sincere smile flashed across his face as he leaned forward as far as could toward the innkeeper.

As the innkeeper told him of the day’s activities, Ælle thought how beautiful and soft her voice was. Once she finished, he caught himself. “That sounds just wonderful. Thank you, Miss…” Sweeping his hand toward her he signaled for her name.

“Aylwen. My name is Aylwen, sir.”

“Oh, what a beautiful name,” he replied with a chuckle. “Now, I do hate to be a burden, but would you mind showing me where I might have a seat and a bit of food to break this old man’s fast?”

“Certainly, sir. Right this way,” Aylwen took his arm, and he leaned slightly on her still letting his cane flow in front of his feet. Truthfully, he did not need to lean on her quite as much, but her frangrance was pleasant, and besides, Ælle had always enjoyed the company of young women. “Here you are.” The innkeeper helped lower Ælle into the seat.

“Oh, thank you, my dear Aylwen. You have been very kind to me.” Ælle felt around his chair looking for a place to prop his cane. Thinking he had found it, he let the cane go and it dropped loudly to the floor. “Oh dear, what have I done?” The old man bent forward to search for his cane, but was stopped by the hard wooden table that collided with his head. “Oh!” His wrinkled hand flew to his forehead to touch the wound. He felt the warmth of blood swelling from the cut. “Goodness, I have made a mess of things.”

Aylwen hurriedly brought him a towel and some salve to care for the wound. “Sir Ælle, I believe you are as good as new.” Ælle thanked her profusely, but she dismissed them with great modesty. Finally taking his order for breakfast, the innkeeper walked away and left the old man alone.

[Nurumaiel]

Mae glanced at the old man, Ælle as he had introduced himself, sitting alone, for Aylwen had just left him, and continued to gaze steadily at him until their eyes met. She gave him her warmest smile before turning back to her uncle. "Dear uncle of mine, that song you sang is highly inappropriate for the occasion," she said in a mockingly rebuking tone. "I merely wish to go with Hearpwine and see him sing; I love him, of course, but I am not in love with him."

"Don't you wish to ever be married, Mae?" Liornung questioned her, winking at Hearpwine.

"Well, perhaps, if I meet someone who loves me and I am in love with him," she replied, "but I hardly know any young lads about, so busy I am working here at the Inn. And nobody's in love with me. Besides that, I don't need to get married. My parents will take care of me forever and ever."

"You are a spoiled little thing, Mae dear."

Her mischeivous smile vanished and a solemn look came to her face. Slowly she shook her head. "No, uncle," she said. "My parents did not spoil me. It was just that they didn't ignore me ever. They always loved me and cared for me and always showed it. They did not believe that to refrain from spoiling me they had to refrain from loving me and constantly showing me thus."

Liornung laughed and patted her cheek. "Dear little Mae, I'm only teasing you. I should know that my brother wouldn't spoil you. My mother and father raised me the same way, and if I had been married I would have raised my children that way."

"Oh, uncle, you're young yet. Don't worry, you'll still be married." Mae slid off her uncle's knee and skipped over to Aylwen. "Oh, Aylwen, say you'll let me go, please do! If you don't, however, I'll endure it gracefully and work just as hard, so you needn't fear refusing. It's just that I should dearly love to go."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Hearpwine’s face flushed at the mention of “love” between Liornung and his niece, and he made himself busy with his plate as they talked of marriage and young men. He was not sure why the conversation should make him self-conscious…yes, he though Mae was a bonny girl, and he enjoyed having her eyes upon him when he sang…but all bards enjoyed the attention of their audience, and she was so completely and innately moved by his music that it was impossible not to respond with warmth. His mind went back to their dancing together of the night before, and a slow smile crept across his face at the memory…

He felt Liornung’s eyes upon him and he looked up at his friend, and then away quickly. He could feel his friend’s smile grow wider, and fancied even that he could hear a chuckle. He looked about for something or someone to distract the minstrel from his teasing, but at that moment Mae commanded his attention as she skipped (ever so prettily) to Aylwen asking if she could go to the Contest. Before he could stop himself, Hearpwine spoke out. “Aye, Mistress Aylwen, she should be at the Contest. It’s clear that no lass enjoys music more than Mae, and my own performance cannot help but be improved by having here there to hear me!” As soon as he had stopped speaking, he heard what he had said and flushed even more deeply than he had before. Desperate now for something to turn Liornung’s smiling eyes away from him, he called out to the blind old man at the table near theirs, still rubbing his head from the assault practised upon it by the table. “Master Ælle, is it? I hope you are not too keenly hurt?”

The old man moved his head toward Hearpwine and assured him that he was fine. “You, sir,” he said, “have a fine voice. Are you a bard?”

Hearpwine’s face broke into a huge grin at this as he cried out, “Aye, sir, that I am! That you could tell so from simply hearing my voice, though, is a wonder to me – and a great pleasure!”

The old man smiled. “Not such a wonder, young master bard,” he replied, “when you consider that you have been talking about taking part in the Contest of the Bards before the King today. You could only be a very fine singer, or a very foolish man.”

Hearpwine burst out laughing, and was delighted to see that Mae was smiling too. Inspired by this, he turned to the old man once more. “Well said Master Ælle! Well said. I am a bard indeed, and although I should save my voice for the Contest, I stand debt of a song to a lass here” and, somehow, he found the courage to look at Mae as he said this, “so you can listen to me sing and then pass your judgement if I shall win the Contest this day or not!” He turned to Liornung to ask if he could accompany him, but his friend already had his fiddle beneath his chin and was smiling from ear to ear. Hearpwine began by humming the tune, which the fiddler soon picked up and within moments had made his own.

Let it be a dance we do.
May I have this dance with you?
For the good times, and the bad times too,
Let it be a dance.

Let a dancing song be heard.
Play the music. Say the words.
Fill the sky with sailing birds.
Let it be a dance.

Every body turn and spin.
Let your bodies learn to bend
Like a willow in the wind,
And let it be a dance.

A child is born. We all must die.
A time for joy, a time to cry –
So, take it as it passes by,
And let it be a dance.

Let it be a dance we do.
May I have this dance with you?
For the good times, and the bad times too,
Let it be a dance.

The morning star comes out at night.
Without the dark, there'd be no light.
Yet, if nothing's wrong, then nothing's right.
So, let it be a dance.

Let the sun shine. Let it rain.
Share the laughter. Bear the pain.
Round and round we go again,
And let it be a dance.

Let it be a dance we do.
May I have this dance with you?
For the good times, and the bad times too,
Let it be a dance.

Hearpwine finished the song, as he always did, with a laugh. The singing had done much to calm his mood and regain his natural good spirits and confidence. He gazed at Mae as he finished and bowed low to the room as Liornung let the melody settle and fade.

[Nurumaiel]

Maercwen applauded Hearpwine's song with a cheery smile, and then she turned back to Aylwen to await an answer to her request. Liornung took Hearpwine's arm and led him towards Ælle's table, murmuring softly, "You're so amusing that way you gaze at her, Hearpwine. I really hadn't noticed it until now, and I don't think she notices it yet."

Hearpwine flushed deeply. "Perhaps it would be better to save your breath for a song today," he said, and Liornung laughed loudly, saying, "Quick tongue you have still, lad. I say it only to tease you."

"And I spoke only for the same reason," replied Hearpwine with a smile. "I mind when we contested in that way when I was a boy. So much we did together though you stayed only for a short time!"

Liornung patted his back fondly before turning to address Ælle. He bowed very courtesly. "Master Ælle, would you allow us to breakfast with you? Soon we must take ourselves away to the Contest, but we would be honored to sit with you in the meantime." Ælle gestured most courtesly and they sat. A relentless light was in Liornung's eyes and he winked at Ælle as he spoke to Hearpwine once again, "Come, come now, lad... I want you to tell me honestly. Would it make a difference if it were Mae watching you at the contest, or would you do equally as well with some other village lass?"

[Bêthberry]

"Mae," spoke Bethberry not harshly as the girl flounced towards Aylwen, "because we desire to do things is not always the best reason for doing them. Consider Aylwen's need here at the Inn before you take advantage of her good heartedness. We will likely be busier here at The Horse today and will have need for all hands."

The girl frowned at the woman petulantly and strode off to see Aylwen. Bethberry watched her go, worrying that the girl lacked the maturity needed to balance her looks and attractiveness. To fall for a man for a song, well, that was an old story, yet a perilous one. She did not wish to see the girl hurt.

"You're a spoil sport, Mistress Bethberry," called out Hearpwine to her half-heartedly conveying a frown that would not stay put upon his face.

"Am I now? Or rather just cautious? I have mended the broken bones and bound the bloody wounds and healed the sore pain of those who chose something more than their own pleasure," she replied. "I do not deny the dance but merely remind that someone must pay the piper." She grinned at him. "An Inn that cannot feed its guests is an Inn that cannot pay its entertainers."

"Hearpwine will have no need of employment here,' Mistress Bethberry interjected Liornung. "He'll be paid by the Golden Hall 'ere this day is finished."

"Will he now," she grinned back. "Then there will be plenty of opportunity to hear him sing in the future. But enough of this." She turned to the old warrior.

"Master Ælle, before these musicians have every one dancing up a storm, I should clear the floor for them." She bent down to retrieve his cane that had fallen and which he had not been able to find when it fell to the floor.

He half rose to convey his thanks and Bethberry placed the cane in his hand, for his sightless eyes had been unable to take it from her hands himself. It cannot be said that he minded the touch of her hands or that he withdrew his too quickly.

[bilbo_baggins]

Rising before Finky, Oin stepped out into the Mead Hall, hoping to catch a bit of breakfast or meal before the day's happenings.

Seeing Hearpwine and Liornung already plying their trade, and of course, their instruments, he was instantly cheered by the vigorous song they played. Nodding his head to the rhythm, he obtained a loaf of bread and some water.

He also was an amused witness to the obvious flirtation of the minstrel with the young girl. Oh, that the Dwarvish women would fall for those who thought better of them. Ah, well. The world is as it is. He could see rather plainly the affection between them. It was well noted by all the Inn-goers, and many could not help but titter.

Then, Bethberry admonished Hearpwine for stealing the girl's heart so, and rather humorously too. Oin noticed her pick up an old man's cane and return it to him. It seemed that the old man was blind.

Walking over to him, Oin was about to say something when he saw the lingering touch of the man's hands and slight reluctance to withdraw. Doing a hurried about-face, Oin just barely kept his dignity intact. Oh, it would have been embarrasing indeed to step in right there. Rather embarrasing. Any moment shared with joy by two people is best not disturbed, as Oin knew from personal experience.

When his friend Ponto and Rosy, who was obviously in love with him, had been talking, he had once stepped up to them and asked why they were always talking together, and alone at that. No, he had not been naive, only a little clueless. Ah, yes. Rather embarrasing, that episode. He did not wish to repeat such an incident. This Inn deserved better from him.

[ArwenBaggins]

Reya rubbed Dela's curls once more and pulled away. "Here... how about a peppermint stick?" Reya reached into the pouch hanging on her belt of braided rope and pulled out a stick of red and white sticky candly.

"Thank... thank ya Mommy... but I don' think I can eat it now. I'm really sad 'bout Papa," tears dripped constantly down Dela's rosy cheeks, her eyes puffy and her bottom lip puckering. "I'm really, really sad," Dela pushed the candy back and buried her head in her mother's shirt.

Reya closed her eyes and tried to block everyone else out of her mind- she was suprised that no one had come by and asked what was the matter. "Delaynn dear, it's okay to be sad, just try not to believe that Papa is always with us and loves us now and forever," yes, she was finding it hard to believe herself, but she could not let Dela think that she wasn't strong. "Please... stop crying Dela," Reya pushed back tears as well; she really wished that there was an easier way to do this.