The White Horse Inn, Act III

[littlemanpoet]

Falco grinned with delight.

"Oh no, now you have done it," said Eodwine, "asking Falco for a story. We'll be here all night."

Falco scowled at him. "You, my lanky lout, have no appreciation for a good story, even when you're in it!"

Saeryn couldn't help a grin of amusement spreading on her face, and covering her mouth with her hand, made as if to cough.

"Oh no," Eodwine rolled his eyes, "not that one."

"Of course, that one! It's the one that answers the lady Saeryn's question!"

Eodwine raised a hand in mock surrender and sighed hugely. "All right, all right. Just let me drown my wits first."

"Your wits have been drownded since before I ever met you," Falco retorted. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes! In answer to your question, lady Saeryn-" the hobbit stopped to take a long pull from his ale, and then took a deep breath.

"Here we go again," Eodwine mumbled.

"I saved this poor wretch's life."

"Oh! Did you!" Saeryn exclaimed.

"That he did," Eodwine said. "And he will never let me forget it. I have heard him tell the tale more times than I can count."

"It's a good tale!" Falco insisted.

"And grows with each telling," Eodwine commented into his mug.

"It does no such thing! Now, before my ungrateful cohort interrupts yet again, it all began one fair summer day back in the Shire...."

[littlemanpoet]

"...and the foul villain turned out to be none other than the Mouth of Sauron, trying to set himself up as a new dark lord in the north, if you will believe me."

"She'll believe you all right," Eodwine said over the last bits of his third helping of apple cobbler. "Quite good this repast!"

"So there we were in the farthest reaches of the Hills of Evendim, and this poor lout was tied down to the fiend's altar, and there I was, sneaking on my quiet Hobbit feet, knife in hand, and I leapt over the altar and fell upon the fiend from above!"

"You did no such thing," Eodwine smirked.

"Now don't go messing up the tale," Falco scolded.

"I needn't try, you do quite well on your own." Eodwine brought his fourth mug of ale to his lips to hide his grin.

"Don't listen to him, Lady Saeryn," Falco said, he's just sour grapes that he had to be rescued instead of the other way abouts. So long story short-"

"As if that were possible any longer," Eodwine interrupted.

"Long story short," Falco enunciated broadly, staring narrowly at Eodwine, I cut down the fiend, then cut the Big Lout loose. He proceeded to trip into the fiend as he tried to get off the altar, and knocked him into the evil spirit the fiend had trapped, and both flew into the east together, never to bother the West again."

"At least as far as we know," Eodwine commented.

"Master Eodwine! Do not scare the young lady!"

"I am sure she is quite in a state of abject terror from the frightening way you relate the tale."

"Speak Common, you Big Lout! I can't understand you when you throw all those Elvish borrowings in! Too much schooling! Nothing's worse for a body, I say."

"And what of you, Saeryn?" asked Eodwine, "What tales have you to share tonight?"

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Not quite managing to hide her smile behind ivory fingers, Saeryn giggled.

"Abject terror indeed!" she murmered laughingly. "A tale, you ask for... let me rummage through the corridors of my mind and see if I can dig up a good one."

Saeryn's pretty face disappeared behind her mug. "Ah yes..." she began, setting her drink on the table with a light clink. "Not so very long ago, there was an incredibly beautiful young lady, who looked not unlike me." Here she gave a conspiritorial wink to her companions. "She went on many adventures with her eldest brother, although he was rarely informed of her presence, him having a rather over-protective constitution toward her... On the last such adventure, they both got into all sorts of mischief, with the end result of several tavern bans, a badly ripped pair of breeches, and a very angry hobbit."

At those words, Falco leaned forward, intent. At the very first, Eodwine had sat back in his chair so as not to be unnecessarily burdened with the effort of sitting up when he could be instead listening to a good yarn.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Looking thoughtfully at her audience, Saeryn contemplated fiction. To tell the whole truth, or to tell slightly less than it? Ah... they can guess for themselves.

"And so, my friends, the girl's brother set out one night into the fiery red dusk in search of a good time. Not wishing to stay home and... dare I say it... clean... the girl set off at a quiet trot some distance behind him. Dressed in greys and greens, she and her brown mare faded into the high grasses. He never once suspected what trouble they would cause."

Time passed as Saeryn spun out her tale. The food was temporarily forgotten as she told of their arrival to the tavern and subsequent challenge at the door. By then, the girl's brother had discovered and regretfully accepted her presence.

"A challenge!?" cried out Falco jumping to his feet. "They dared challenge a lady? Her brother solved the problem, I hope." he said with indignation on the girl's behalf.

"Sit, Master Halfling, and let the lady finish her tale, or did you want to finish it for her?" Falco sat grudgingly, shooting Eodwine a look that would kill.

"And so then, if you'll believe it," Saeryn laughed, "They pulled their instruments from beneath their cloaks and outplayed every musician in the tavern!"

"They didn't..."

[littlemanpoet]

"They didn't!" Eodwine said.

"Well they should!" Falco retorted. "A perfect way to set up the tale. I'm wanting to know how playing better than anybody else gets you banned from a tavern, though."

"Mind you, Lady Saeryn," Eodwine interrupted conspiratorially but too loudly for the hobbit to miss, "Master Falco's a lawman. He'll suspect greater foul play than just playing better than everybody else."

"That's lawhobbit, if you please!" Falco retorted, then turned to Saeryn. "But I'm only a shirriff of the Shire." His chest puffed out noticeably, despite his humble words. "But I admit I'm curious about your crime, if that's what it was. Say away, and I'll ask you to forgive Master Eodwine's rude interruption seeing as he hasn't the sense to ask hisself."

"I beg your-!" Eodwine began, and stopped short, his eyes narrowing and a grin spreading. "Tut tut! You almost had it out of me, but I'll not beg your pardon for anything, Master Falco, at least not until I'm properly thanked for saving your hairy feet from that mud hole west of here. But since that's as like to happen as you telling a story straight and true, we might as well ask the fair lady Saeryn for the rest of her tale."

"Windbag," Falco declaimed, waiting intently for the young maid to continue.

"Twisty tongue," Eodwine returned out of the side of his mouth, nodding to Saeryn, who opened her mouth to continue her tale.

"Overgrown lummox," Falco said.

"Half sized showoff."

"Enough, you two!" Saeryn laughed, having tried thrice to restart her tale. "Take a draught of your ale to keep your mouths busy so I can finish my story!"

"Right you are, lady" they said as one, and lifted their ale cups.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"Banned, Master Falco, because three of the outplayed were the Owner, his wife, and their son! You see, the challenge was this: the presense of a lady was frowned upon mightily in this tavern... fools that they were... and so in order to get in, the girl had to prove her worth. First she proved her riding skills in a race with the owner's boy... winning so very easily on her spritely little mare. That horse's feet danced like raindrops on a stone walkway."

Saeryn paused again for another swallow of her drink.

"Then, if you don't mind my saying, the girl and her brother beat the Owner and his wife in a dancing competition! Oh, but to see her feet flutter... and her brother; what a trick it had been for her to calm his outrage at the challenges. But the next tavern was another hour's ride away!"

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry's sides hurt and she had to wipe her eyes dry. She couldn't remember when she had laughed so hard. In fact, she couldn't stop laughing.

"T-t-twisty tongue," she blurted out, between bouts of laughter. "H-h-h-h-halfsized s-s-s-showoff." She laughed so hard her chair was creaking and she nearly rolled off one side.

Her laughter wasn't infectious, however, for it had intruded upon Saeryn's story. And it mightily offended Master Falco, who had no desire to hear "Halfsize" reiterated. Eodwine was himself insensed that someone else had the audacity to take over his words. Both of them nearly sputtered calumnations upon the Innkeeper.

"Oh dear," giggled the Innkeeper, trying hard to gain control of a sombre demeanour, but failing completely. This time she nearly tipped into the table. "Whoops," she chortled. "Ahem," she coughed.

"My good lady, be so kind"--a sputter of suppressed mirth here--"as to repeat your story. I am afraid I missed almost all of it." Bethberry cleared her throat and pulled her tunic down, sitting up straight in her chair. "What sort of dance was it, you say?"