The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 09-10-2004, 11:49 AM

It is a fair evening in the Shire.

The lamps are lit in The Green Dragon.

Supper is now being served - roast lamb, taters, garden fresh green peas with butter. Apple-Brown-Betty for dessert.

Plenty of ale, wine, tea, and cold, clear water from the Inn well for parched throats.

Primrose Bolger · 09-10-2004, 11:54 AM

‘Oh Sir!’ returned Ginger, seeing the gentleman was certainly eager for news of his friend. ‘I’m sorry to be of no help to you. But I’ve only just come to the Inn for this week.’ Rebalancing the tray of Apple-Brown-Betty on her hand, she hurried on with her explanation. ‘There’s to be a handfasting here at the Inn, come the end of the week. Many of us lasses have been sent in by our mums to help Cook out.’

She saw his expression fall at this bit of news. ‘There’s Ruby . . . there by the bar – pulling half-pints for the thirsty fellows. Ask her. If anyone should know about who’s come and gone through the Inn it might be Ruby Brown.’

Fallon and Gil, a few half-pints themselves under their loosened belts, had both taken their napkins from their collars and were waving wildly at her as their tablemates cheered them on. ‘Sorry, Sir,’ she said again, giving him the briefest of bobs as she stepped away from his table. ‘I’ve some lads with sweet-tooths wanting their dessert.’

Firefoot · 09-10-2004, 05:02 PM

"Miss Lily," said Blanco. "Would you tell me exactly how you feel about my brother?" Lily felt herself go cold. The question was not completely unexpected, but it hit her hard just the same.

"I... I love him." The words, though not loud, were easily audible in the silent barn. Lily did not wait for his response. She had been almost to the door when he had called her back in, and a few steps she was outside. Letting the door swing shut behind her, she fled. She did not return to the inn, but rather around the other side of the barn. There was a large tree, with branches low enough for her to swing herself up among the leaves. She sat there in a fork in the branches, gasping for breath. She was not sure why she had reacted so strongly, but somehow the question had seemed so bold, so personal. Had she really been so afraid of his reaction that she had needed to get away that quickly? Deep inside, she knew the answer was yes. Then, being so flustered she could hardly think clearly, she had offered the bluntest answer she could now imagine. The words were true, of course, but admitting them out loud in such a way had awaken something deep inside her.

Lily wasn't sure how long she sat in the tree, but she knew if that Blanco and Posco would come looking for her if she was away any longer, if they hadn't already. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she pushed off from the low branch and landed lightly on her feet. Lily knew her only real choice was to return to the inn, and she steeled herself to walk around the far side of the barn. Neither of the twins were in sight, so she went alone up to the Inn and prepared to walk inside.

Nurumaiel · 09-10-2004, 07:22 PM

As the evening shadows fell, Lily left the stable and left Blanco alone. He stared blankly at the door, and he then he promptly sat down on the ground. Oh, he had known it, surely he had known it, and he had known it for some time. But he had always dared hope that perhaps she did not love him yet, for maybe then there would be a chance. There was no chance now, for she loved him. And when a lass loved a lad, she did not change her heart. Love did not change. Was it not so? Yet... at one time, had he not loved the brown-eyed lassie, the sweet little Marigold Hilldweller, who loved him well? No, but he just had a fickle heart, and as the realization came to him that very heart sunk. He was fickle. Maybe he would love another girl tomorrow, and forget Lily. He could never be happy in marriage. He would love a girl and marry her, and then he would one day stop...

Oh, oh, oh! but hadn't Lily been the sweetest, kindest, gentlest little thing he had ever seen? But Marigold was sweet, and kind, and gentle as well, and he had brought her flowers, and she had lifted her large brown eyes up to him, with the golden-brown curls falling on her rosy cheeks, and his heart had beat fiercely, fiercely! Flittings of a song came to his mind then, a song he had sung of Marigold as he sat in the moonlight by the Brandywine dreaming of her, and they pained him....

Dear are her charms to me,
dearer her laughter free,
dearest her constancy...

Her constancy! Marigold was the very soul of constancy! She had loved him for so long, and had more than likely always trusted that he loved her, and small blame to her for that. He had gone off before, and she had always been there to see him off and wish him well, and the first to run out to greet him at his return. Would the most charming hobbit lad in the land come to sweep her off her feet, she would continue to gaze unwaveringly at him, at Blanco Brandybuck, loving him as much as ever.

When, like the dawning day....
Love sends his early ray....

What makes his dawning glow
changeless through joy and woe?
Only the constant know...

Only the constant know. Oh, he would never know, for he was not constant. At this time he should be thinking of Marigold, and Marigold alone, even though Lily was beautiful and kind. Marigold was probably thinking of him this very moment, with all trust, and he was weeping that Lily loved his brother!

Truth is a fixed star...

Yes, but what was the truth? Did he love Lily? Oh, yes, yes, he did! Did he love Marigold? He had loved her, yes, but he did not any longer. Then why, why did she keep coming to his mind? Constant Marigold! Oh, would not everyone be happy if he could find it to be true that he loved Marigold? Lily could marry Posco, and he could marry Marigold, and all would be well. But he did not love her, not any longer. And as he thought of this another song came to his head, and it said:

In constancy to her I love -
the girl I've left behind me.

'Would that I did,' he moaned, 'would that I did love her!' And he bowed his head and sat in silent misery.

Envinyatar · 09-11-2004, 01:44 PM

Pushing back his chair from the table, Derufin smiled as he looked at his Hobbit companions. ‘You would think,’ he murmured to himself, watching them hail the new serving girl, Ginger, ‘that as big as I am in comparison to them, that I could out eat them.’ He chuckled as the lads hands went out for the bowls of dessert, and at their clamor for the thick sweet cream to pour atop it. ‘By the One, I’m no match even to keep up with them!’

Andwise, too, had moved his chair back from his place and waved off the offer of something sweet. Interesting, though, thought Derufin, how his voice gentled as he spoke his refusal and gave his thanks for the offer. Something was going on, he mused. Since Cook had had her private little conversation with Andwise, he seemed more thoughtful. And the man could not help but notice how his gaze often went from the girl to his son and back again, as if her were considering something in a new light.

The Hobbit pulled out his pouch of tobacco and offered the Stablemaster a pipeful. Filled, tamped, and lit, the smoke from the pipes curled upward together in lazy spirals. Derufin’s eye fell on the fellow who had spoken to Ginger, wondering what he was about – what did he want of her. His gaze lingered long on him, watching as the man’s eye swept round the room, then was cast downward as if brooding.

Derufin pulled his attention away from the man and watched the others in the Inn. There was Buttercup, flirting outrageously with some of the regulars; there was Ruby, smiling as she filled the mugs for thirsty Hobbits and Men. And there, a bit pale behind the fading red stains on her high cheekbones was Aman. She moved through the crowd as always, that certain air of self-possession evident in her actions. Or so one who hadn’t known her long would see . . . but the laughter at some Hobbit’s witticism seemed a little forced tonight; her eyes too bright . . . and he wondered if it was that she held back tears . . .

Amanaduial the archer · 09-11-2004, 04:50 PM

The Innkeeper grinned widely at one of the regulars as she delivered another ale to him, and he attempted drunkenly to flirt with her hopelessly. Aman laughed with him and pretended to scold him. Luckily, he was too drunk to realise that her laugh was slightly strained. Walking back to the bar, Aman cast her eyes around the room lightly, checking that the denizens of the busy room seemed content, for now at least. Her eyes caught on Snaveling and her step faltered slightly, before she looked away, holding her head high. As she avertd her gaze from the raven haired man, her eyes caught those of another: Derufin. For a moment, they held, and he cocked his head onto one side through the haze of pipe smoke in front of his face, his dark eyes searching hers. Aman returned the gaze for a second, then turned away, walking back to the bar, ignoring his concerned look.

What does he know? From the look of Snaveling now, he would think him a respectable man, as they all do: when he came first he was nothing of the sort, a ruffian, mistrusted by all...nearly all... Aman recalled how she had listened to Snaveling and shown him kindness, where Roa had shown him only spite. Did that count for nothing?

Ringing the bell at the bar, she called, "Supper ending now, ladies and gents, last orders for food now please!" Closing her eyes for a few moments, she felt the ache in her limbs and her head: she had not rested since she had come in from riding from the East Road, and from several hours riding her limbs were stiff and protested. She needed to sleep...

No. He might see it as defeat. He would not defeat her, he and his precious ranger woman. And so she kept on, not aware of how far she was pushing herself, mentally and physically - but it was noticed by the stablemaster, watching her with his still eyes, and the black Numenorian on the other side...

09-10-2004, 11:54 AM	#2
Primrose Bolger Wight Join Date: Sep 2003 Location: Near Bywater Pool Posts: 196	‘Oh Sir!’ returned Ginger, seeing the gentleman was certainly eager for news of his friend. ‘I’m sorry to be of no help to you. But I’ve only just come to the Inn for this week.’ Rebalancing the tray of Apple-Brown-Betty on her hand, she hurried on with her explanation. ‘There’s to be a handfasting here at the Inn, come the end of the week. Many of us lasses have been sent in by our mums to help Cook out.’ She saw his expression fall at this bit of news. ‘There’s Ruby . . . there by the bar – pulling half-pints for the thirsty fellows. Ask her. If anyone should know about who’s come and gone through the Inn it might be Ruby Brown.’ Fallon and Gil, a few half-pints themselves under their loosened belts, had both taken their napkins from their collars and were waving wildly at her as their tablemates cheered them on. ‘Sorry, Sir,’ she said again, giving him the briefest of bobs as she stepped away from his table. ‘I’ve some lads with sweet-tooths wanting their dessert.’ __________________ . . . for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth . . . are quick of hearing and sharpeyed, and though they are inclined to be fat and do not hurry unneccesarily, they are nonetheless nimble and deft in their movements . . . FOTR - Prologue

09-10-2004, 05:02 PM	#3
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	"Miss Lily," said Blanco. "Would you tell me exactly how you feel about my brother?" Lily felt herself go cold. The question was not completely unexpected, but it hit her hard just the same. "I... I love him." The words, though not loud, were easily audible in the silent barn. Lily did not wait for his response. She had been almost to the door when he had called her back in, and a few steps she was outside. Letting the door swing shut behind her, she fled. She did not return to the inn, but rather around the other side of the barn. There was a large tree, with branches low enough for her to swing herself up among the leaves. She sat there in a fork in the branches, gasping for breath. She was not sure why she had reacted so strongly, but somehow the question had seemed so bold, so personal. Had she really been so afraid of his reaction that she had needed to get away that quickly? Deep inside, she knew the answer was yes. Then, being so flustered she could hardly think clearly, she had offered the bluntest answer she could now imagine. The words were true, of course, but admitting them out loud in such a way had awaken something deep inside her. Lily wasn't sure how long she sat in the tree, but she knew if that Blanco and Posco would come looking for her if she was away any longer, if they hadn't already. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she pushed off from the low branch and landed lightly on her feet. Lily knew her only real choice was to return to the inn, and she steeled herself to walk around the far side of the barn. Neither of the twins were in sight, so she went alone up to the Inn and prepared to walk inside. Last edited by piosenniel; 09-10-2004 at 06:43 PM.

09-11-2004, 01:44 PM	#5
Envinyatar Quill Revenant Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: Wandering through the Downs..... Posts: 849	Pushing back his chair from the table, Derufin smiled as he looked at his Hobbit companions. ‘You would think,’ he murmured to himself, watching them hail the new serving girl, Ginger, ‘that as big as I am in comparison to them, that I could out eat them.’ He chuckled as the lads hands went out for the bowls of dessert, and at their clamor for the thick sweet cream to pour atop it. ‘By the One, I’m no match even to keep up with them!’ Andwise, too, had moved his chair back from his place and waved off the offer of something sweet. Interesting, though, thought Derufin, how his voice gentled as he spoke his refusal and gave his thanks for the offer. Something was going on, he mused. Since Cook had had her private little conversation with Andwise, he seemed more thoughtful. And the man could not help but notice how his gaze often went from the girl to his son and back again, as if her were considering something in a new light. The Hobbit pulled out his pouch of tobacco and offered the Stablemaster a pipeful. Filled, tamped, and lit, the smoke from the pipes curled upward together in lazy spirals. Derufin’s eye fell on the fellow who had spoken to Ginger, wondering what he was about – what did he want of her. His gaze lingered long on him, watching as the man’s eye swept round the room, then was cast downward as if brooding. Derufin pulled his attention away from the man and watched the others in the Inn. There was Buttercup, flirting outrageously with some of the regulars; there was Ruby, smiling as she filled the mugs for thirsty Hobbits and Men. And there, a bit pale behind the fading red stains on her high cheekbones was Aman. She moved through the crowd as always, that certain air of self-possession evident in her actions. Or so one who hadn’t known her long would see . . . but the laughter at some Hobbit’s witticism seemed a little forced tonight; her eyes too bright . . . and he wondered if it was that she held back tears . . . __________________ ‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’ – Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age' Last edited by Envinyatar; 09-11-2004 at 04:53 PM.

09-11-2004, 04:50 PM	#6
Amanaduial the archer Shadow of Starlight Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: dancing among the ledgerlines... Posts: 2,347	Aman The Innkeeper grinned widely at one of the regulars as she delivered another ale to him, and he attempted drunkenly to flirt with her hopelessly. Aman laughed with him and pretended to scold him. Luckily, he was too drunk to realise that her laugh was slightly strained. Walking back to the bar, Aman cast her eyes around the room lightly, checking that the denizens of the busy room seemed content, for now at least. Her eyes caught on Snaveling and her step faltered slightly, before she looked away, holding her head high. As she avertd her gaze from the raven haired man, her eyes caught those of another: Derufin. For a moment, they held, and he cocked his head onto one side through the haze of pipe smoke in front of his face, his dark eyes searching hers. Aman returned the gaze for a second, then turned away, walking back to the bar, ignoring his concerned look. What does he know? From the look of Snaveling now, he would think him a respectable man, as they all do: when he came first he was nothing of the sort, a ruffian, mistrusted by all...nearly all... Aman recalled how she had listened to Snaveling and shown him kindness, where Roa had shown him only spite. Did that count for nothing? Ringing the bell at the bar, she called, "Supper ending now, ladies and gents, last orders for food now please!" Closing her eyes for a few moments, she felt the ache in her limbs and her head: she had not rested since she had come in from riding from the East Road, and from several hours riding her limbs were stiff and protested. She needed to sleep... No. He might see it as defeat. He would not defeat her, he and his precious ranger woman. And so she kept on, not aware of how far she was pushing herself, mentally and physically - but it was noticed by the stablemaster, watching her with his still eyes, and the black Numenorian on the other side... __________________ I am what I was, a harmless little devil

09-10-2004, 11:49 AM	#1
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It is a fair evening in the Shire. The lamps are lit in The Green Dragon. Supper is now being served - roast lamb, taters, garden fresh green peas with butter. Apple-Brown-Betty for dessert. Plenty of ale, wine, tea, and cold, clear water from the Inn well for parched throats. Last edited by piosenniel; 09-10-2004 at 11:53 AM.

09-10-2004, 07:22 PM	#4
Nurumaiel Vice of Twilight Join Date: Nov 2002 Location: on a mountain Posts: 1,121	As the evening shadows fell, Lily left the stable and left Blanco alone. He stared blankly at the door, and he then he promptly sat down on the ground. Oh, he had known it, surely he had known it, and he had known it for some time. But he had always dared hope that perhaps she did not love him yet, for maybe then there would be a chance. There was no chance now, for she loved him. And when a lass loved a lad, she did not change her heart. Love did not change. Was it not so? Yet... at one time, had he not loved the brown-eyed lassie, the sweet little Marigold Hilldweller, who loved him well? No, but he just had a fickle heart, and as the realization came to him that very heart sunk. He was fickle. Maybe he would love another girl tomorrow, and forget Lily. He could never be happy in marriage. He would love a girl and marry her, and then he would one day stop... Oh, oh, oh! but hadn't Lily been the sweetest, kindest, gentlest little thing he had ever seen? But Marigold was sweet, and kind, and gentle as well, and he had brought her flowers, and she had lifted her large brown eyes up to him, with the golden-brown curls falling on her rosy cheeks, and his heart had beat fiercely, fiercely! Flittings of a song came to his mind then, a song he had sung of Marigold as he sat in the moonlight by the Brandywine dreaming of her, and they pained him.... Dear are her charms to me, dearer her laughter free, dearest her constancy... Her constancy! Marigold was the very soul of constancy! She had loved him for so long, and had more than likely always trusted that he loved her, and small blame to her for that. He had gone off before, and she had always been there to see him off and wish him well, and the first to run out to greet him at his return. Would the most charming hobbit lad in the land come to sweep her off her feet, she would continue to gaze unwaveringly at him, at Blanco Brandybuck, loving him as much as ever. When, like the dawning day.... Love sends his early ray.... What makes his dawning glow changeless through joy and woe? Only the constant know... Only the constant know. Oh, he would never know, for he was not constant. At this time he should be thinking of Marigold, and Marigold alone, even though Lily was beautiful and kind. Marigold was probably thinking of him this very moment, with all trust, and he was weeping that Lily loved his brother! Truth is a fixed star... Yes, but what was the truth? Did he love Lily? Oh, yes, yes, he did! Did he love Marigold? He had loved her, yes, but he did not any longer. Then why, why did she keep coming to his mind? Constant Marigold! Oh, would not everyone be happy if he could find it to be true that he loved Marigold? Lily could marry Posco, and he could marry Marigold, and all would be well. But he did not love her, not any longer. And as he thought of this another song came to his head, and it said: In constancy to her I love - the girl I've left behind me. 'Would that I did,' he moaned, 'would that I did love her!' And he bowed his head and sat in silent misery.