The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Aniriuq Raevla]

Anja waved back at Tom.I need to rest.She thought sleepily.She was overcome by a yawn that cracked her jaw.She looked back at Tom,who looked very pleased about something,and the inkeeper.Anja tried to remember the innkeepers name as she taped her fingers on the table.What was it....Ah yes,Aman....i think.....She yawned once more and and looked to Ana.

"Well,it's been nice to have you for company Ana,I appreciate it. Again,i'm sorry if I alarmed you with my behavior tonight. Well,it's getting pretty late,and I need to get some rest. So if you will excuse me."Anja got up and streched."Oh,and thank you for the bread.Good night,perhaps we shall meet again in the morning."

Anja walked away from the table and towards Tom and Aman."Pardon me,"She said,nodding to Tom in greeting. She grinned at him. His face was full of delight,and whatever had happened to him to make him so happy,Anja was glad of it. She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned to the innkeeper.

"If there are any left,I would like to have a room for the night,please."

[Lalwendë]

The room was very smoky and warm and Jinniver was sitting back in her chair feeling contentedly full and very sleepy. She had bought herself two ales at the bar, to avoid going through the trauma again. She had wondered whether two would be enough, yet it was a little too much, as the ale was a strong brew. A tiny vein in her forehead throbbed and the inn seemed very noisy all of a sudden.

She had spoken to three old gaffers on their way out of the pub. They had stopped by and bought several bunches of her flowers, “Probably for their wives, so they may hope to get away with coming home so late and so merry“, thought Jinniver. They had smelled very strongly of drink, and one had held onto the table throughout, as though he might fall to the floor at any moment. With a little of the money she had made, she bought some sweet smelling pipeweed, which she was now enjoying.

A man standing by the fireside was relating a tale to a crowd gathered around him. It was not hard to hear him, but Jinniver leaned forward all the same, as it was a dark story concerning the northern lands, away up the Greenway. He told the tale with a look of horror on his face, and she was fascinated. She loved to hear such stories; her father had been fond of reciting them, particularly on stormy nights, but since the dark days he much preferred a comic rhyme or a tale of romance.

Jinniver had missed these thrilling tales and rhymes. When the man mentioned the cursed knife she jumped, and seeing her old dagger lying on the table, pulled it back towards herself. She kept tight hold of the dagger until the story ended, scared, yet excited at the same time.

She was one of many who toasted the man when his story was through. Enlivened by the toast to the kings, the crowd was soon calling for a song, and Jinniver wished she was bold enough to offer up one of the old verses she knew. She went a little red at the thought of standing up in this room, but thankfully a few of the hobbits struck up a song. She sat quietly, savouring the sights and sounds of the inn, as the time would soon come to sink into that feather bed.

[piosenniel]

‘Naught that you can protect me from,’ came the muffled reply. Zimzi raised her face and pulled a little away from him, so that she might look him in the face. A little color had come back into her cheeks, and a little warmth to her hands, now, as he took them between his own and chafed them gently.

‘Then what I might I do for you,’ he returned.

‘Help me up, if you will’ she said putting one of her hands on the banister as he stood with her other grasped firmly in his. She peered down toward the table where Eodwine and his gathered group sat, listening to the music and song. ‘Do you see that man down there?’ She directed Derufin’s attention to where Eodwine sat, a mug in hand. In quick words she gave an outline of the story he had told.

‘It should have made me glad that he was rescued by those brave companions. And indeed I do rejoice that he lives and Sauron’s minion is vanquished. But it chills me to the very bone that another being of some power, one of the maiar he said, was corrupted and still lives. And quite possibly just north of the Shire. What fell schemes might that one weave, who has all the time in Arda to concoct them.’ She shivered a little at the thought. ‘If we are to live here and raise our family, I would that our time and theirs be marred only by the little ills that come into one’s life naturally.’ She looked him gravely in the eye. ‘What could be done to make our children and their children safe? How will we know that the evil he spoke of is truly defeated?’

‘Let me speak with Uien,’ he said, taking her concerns seriously. ‘And I’ll see what I can learn from Eodwine and from Falco.’

She looped her arm through his and went down the steps. At the landing, they spoke briefly with Buttercup, who’d been called away to see to the needs of the crowd. She was relieved that what black mood had struck Zimzi now seemed to have left her for the moment.

Derufin opened the door to the kitchen, ushering Zimzi through. He was about to take a step in, himself, when the loud command stayed his entrance.

‘I just finished mopping the mess you made on your way in, Stablemaster!’ came the irate voice of Cook. She leaned on the rag mop handle, a bucket of dirty water near her feet and glared at him. ‘You keep your muck and mire in the stable where it belongs!’ She cocked her head and pointed a finger at his feet. ‘Now you just be taking those boots off now if you intend to step foot in my kitchen!’

Zimzi smiled and bit back a comment of her own. ‘Best do as Mistress Vinca says, Derufin. Or you’ll have to take the long way round for a cup of tea. And even then we’ll be sitting on the back step to drink it.’

[littlemanpoet]

Uien was seated next to Falowik. Eodwine's story had brought the memory back to her in all its painful horror. She had not been there in body, but in spirit. It was an evil memory, and the death of Lira made it more poignant. She pressed Falowik's hand and their eyes met. His looked into hers with relief and happiness. She smiled.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching from the kitchen. It was Zimzi, who made her way through the crowd and came to Uien. Uien greeted her and made room next to her for Zimzi to sit down. Zimzi sat next to her and smiled, but there was the shadow of a haunting in her eyes.

"Are you well, Zimzi?"

"Yes," she nodded. But when she met Uien's eyes, her face changed and the fear was writ there for Uien. "Master Eodwine spoke of an evil Maiar still lurking in the north. Is it so?"

"My fëa was there, Zimzi." Uien held her eyes. "With the eyes of my fëa I saw that Maiar take the Dark Lord's former servant into itself, then fade into the east. It left us. I know not where it went."

[Envinyatar]

‘There you are!’ Derufin juggled two mugs of tea, a pot of honey, and a small plate of walnut and spice cookies. ‘’Cook decided she wanted another swipe at the kitchen’s floor with her mop. So, she’s piled up “something to tide you two over” into my arms and hands, and I’ve been doing a balancing act looking for you.’

Zimzi rose from her chair and took the plate of cookies, teetering on the honey pot out from under Derufin’s chin. Next came the pot, and Uien’s hands reached up to take it. Her eyes lit up at the liquid gold hidden within, recalling her first encounter with it at Cook’s table, long ago . . . or so it seemed.

‘If I’d known you were sitting here with Uien, I would have brought another mug for her.’ Uien reached behind her, picking up her own mug of tea from the table. ‘Well, then, share our cookies with us,’ he said grinning.

‘I asked her about the maiar that Eodwine spoke about.’ Zimzi put her hand lightly on Derufin’s forearm. ‘She tells me that she saw the maiar flee into the east.’ Uien nodded her head as Zimzi spoke.

Derufin shifted in his chair so that he could look Zimzi in the face. ‘And has what she said resolved your fears?’ He put the fingers of one hand beneath her chin, tilting it up so that he might see it fully. His brown eyes considered the deep grey of hers. They held no clouds as he could see, but the shadow of a frown creased her brow lightly as she answered.