The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Nimrodel_9]

Keleth spent an hour or so helping move tables, chairs, and benches into place. After doing all that he could, he straightened and looked around. He was pleased to see the garlands he had helped cut hanging about the place.

Not knowing what else to do he wandered over to the group of men lifting kegs of ale onto the holders. "Let me help!" he called and went to lift the kegs. Some of the hobbits were now "testing" the ale. He smiled. Of all jobs he could have ended up doing, he was glad he got this one.

[piosenniel]

Cook and Uien

Cook had brought the big cake out of the pantry with the help of Buttercup and placed it carefully on the table in the center of the kitchen. They were both fussing with a number of the sugared violets that had come dislodged along the edge of one of the layers when the door to the kitchen opened. Their backs were to the entrance and there had been so much coming and going that neither looked up from their task. ‘There’s the last of the bread to be sliced and put in baskets . . . over there on the counter near the pantry. The baskets are up above on the shelf. Oh, and you’ll find napkins for liners in the last drawer under that counter.’ Cook supposed it was one of the volunteers come to finish up the last of the baskets of food for the party.

When they heard only a tentative shuffle behind them and a small silvery laugh, Cook and Buttercup looked at one another. Then Buttercup turned toward the door and seeing who had come in, laughed aloud. ‘Look, Cook! That skinny Elf’s come for the party,’ she said, poking Cook in the side.

Cook turned, wiping the frosting from her fingers on her apron, to see who Buttercup meant. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of the figure standing there. ‘Uien!’ she cried, her face beaming. The elderly Hobbit trotted over to the Elf and gave her a tight squeeze about the waist. She stepped back, smiling. ‘Well, looks like he’s been keeping you fed right,’ she said looking Uien up and down. ‘Did Master Falowik come with you?’ she asked, peering around the Elf. ‘He must have . . . Are you hungry? We’ve got plenty of food for the party.’ She offered Uien a chair at the smaller table in the kitchen. ‘Buttercup, you just go fetch him in here. Tell him we’ve food and drink and his fair Elf to boot.’ Cook sat down with a tired oomph! at the table. ‘Tell me lass, what adventures have you two got up to now?’

[Nurumaiel]

The golden-haired girl (whose name was, in passing, Marigold Baker) found many people whom she could ask, but she did not know if she should. None of them seemed personages of authority who would be able to instruct her correctly. She supposed she could simply jump into the midst of the work, but moving tables seemed too heavy a task. The sound of music drifted to her, and for a moment she swayed and thought she would go listen, but then she determined herself to help, if only she found the right one to ask.

Marigold knew a kitchen door when she saw one. It was the only door she had used at her home, because it was the only door where she would find her mother directly on the other side. She recognized this door as a kitchen door, and it occurred to her that perhaps someone inside would know how she might help. Cautiously she opened the door and peeked in, and then she withdrew quickly, her cheeks flushing and her eyes bright, yet shy. Why, there was a tall beautiful lady in there! Marigold had never seen one of the woman Big Folk before, and there was one just through the kitchen door, fairer than anyone Marigold had ever seen, and with the sweetest smile and laugh.

"I should be much too shy to go in there," Marigold murmured to herself. "It's such an odd thing; I've never been too shy before. Oh, but isn't she beautiful! She has the most beautiful face I have ever seen, except for my mother's face." She cast a look over her shoulder. "I'm glad Mr. Headstrong isn't here to see. He'd say something horribly... dampening. He doesn't seem a bad hobbit but he's so very... very... depressing. He'd moan that there were Big Folk here and never notice how beautiful she is. Why, she reminds me of moonlight and starlight and sunlight, and all the beautiful things I know of." Marigold opened the door a crack again and peered in again. "How beautiful she is!" she sighed, and, closing the door, she sat down beside it. She didn't dare go in, a bold and haughty lass who thought she had every right to speak with Big Folk, but wouldn't it be nice if the beautiful lady came out and smiled at her as she went by? "No doubt it would," said Marigold, laughing and recalling Mr. Headstrong, standing at the other door. "No doubt!"

[piosenniel]

Buttercup and Marigold in the kitchen with Uien

‘And just what are you doing here, sitting on the floor, little missy?’

Buttercup had just delivered the message to Falowik and was on her way back to the kitchen when she saw the little girl with her mop of yellow curls settle down by the door. She crouched down, so as to be on the same level as the girl and looked her over. Very pretty, she thought. She asked the lass her name.

‘Marigold . . . Baker . . .,’ came the soft and hesitant reply.

‘Well, Miss Marigold, my name is Buttercup.’ She gave the child her hand and brought her to her feet. ‘Today’s no day for Hobbits to be sitting about. There’s work to be done . . . a party to get ready for.’ She walked slowly through the door to the kitchen, chattering all the while to Marigold. ‘We’ll just get you some lunch, I think. Unless you’ve already eaten, of course. And then I was wondering if you might help me pile bread in the little baskets for the food table.’

Buttercup drew the child over to one of the empty chairs and urged her to take a seat. ‘This is Cook,’ she said in introduction. ‘Marigold’s come to help with the bread baskets.’ Cook nodded and poured the girl a small mug of cold cider. ‘And this is Uien,’ she said nodding toward the Elf. Marigold’s eyes she noted went wide as Uien smiled at her. ‘One of the Fair Folk she is. Used to work here at the Inn . . . that is til she went off adventuring with her Mister.’

Buttercup brought out a little tray of thick ham and cheese sandwiches and plunked them down in the middle of the three women, big and little. ‘Pass the cider round, won’t you Uien. And Marigold go ahead and take a sandwich. Workers eat for free today . . .’

[Encaitare]

The band by now had grown considerably, featuring all different sorts of people; however, Caity thought that they sounded pretty good, considering that they had never played together before. But then, hobbit tunes were simple and well-known, and it was easy for even those who had never heard the song to catch on shortly.

As she played on her pennywhistle, her stomach growled, reminding her that she had never eaten breakfast. She hoped she could grab some food soon. Yet the thought was interrupted as the little monkey caught her eye -- already he was dancing to the music! Caity held in her laughter as best she could as the monkey continued his antics. Eventually she had to look away so as to avoid throwing the whole group off.

Instead, her eyes settled on the elf in the large hat. Her outfit was strange, but in a good way, and she really wanted to ask her about the large instrument she was playing so deftly.

Happily taking in the beauty of the scene, with the motley band playing along, the jolly hobbits "testing" the ale, and the festive decorations, Caity did not find it surprising that Shimshin was dancing. She rather felt like dancing herself, but satisfied herself by making sure that her playing was perfect.

[littlemanpoet]

"There you are, Falowik!" a female voice as good as shouted. Falowik turned. One of the serving girls. He had never quite gotten their names. "Your skinny Elf Lady Uien is waiting for you in the kitchen!"

"Thank you!" he smiled as she motioned for him to follow her.

Uien was sitting at table across from a little hobbit lass all in blonde curls, pleased as punch to be the center of attention.

"Ah, there you are," Uien said. "Sit and be fed. I was just getting ready to tell Cook and Buttercup here what you and I have been doing these past few months, and they think I'm no longer the waif I looked last I was here, thanks to you."

Falowik grinned. So it was Buttercup. He mentally thanked Uien for the name, and she winked back at him as he took his place at table. There was a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches set before them, and his mouth watered quickly.

"You first, Uien," he said.

"Or I'll get none, is that it?"

"Hobbits do make good fare, better than we've had since we left the Shire."

"If you like man-food," Uien returned.

"Hobbit food's better!" Cook corrected. "I've 'eard of what they eat, and it don't compare to what's served at the Green Dragon."

"Of course not!" Falowik assured her.

"Are you an Elf too?" The little hobbit lass's eyes were wide, looking at him.

He swallowed his first mouthful. "Oh, no," he answered with a smile. "I'm a Man."

"Are you handfasted?" little Marigold asked him.

Falowik almost choked and coughed, and Uien snickered in her hand. He cleared his throat. "No. Men and Elves do not - um - handfast." Falowik was not used to the term.

"Some have," Uien murmured, half smiling.

"Why not?" little Marigold asked.

Falowik had all the answers to these questions firmly in mind, but not in a hobbit lass's speech. He looked at her blankly.

"It looks like you're finished with your cider and sandwich, Marigold, eh?" Buttercup asked, winking at Falowik. The girl nodded. "What do you say to helping me with those breadfbaskets now?"

"Yay!" the girl cried, and climbed down from her chair, eager to help Buttercup. Falowik made to wipe his brow in relief. Uien was half smiling.

Cook was at the stoves, chuckling, and said, "Now tell me what you two've been up to while you've been away."

Falowik and Uien related how they'd gone to Eryn Lasgalen with the Elven women, Lumiel and Eswen, who had accompanied them into the hills of Evendim, to bring home Lira, who had given her life in the quest. Then they had gone to Lothlorien, Uien's former home, and she had shown Falowik all the fair sights to be seen there, now almost emptied of Elves. They had come back across the mountains and stopped in Rivendell, then returned to Bree, where Falowik had been born. They had just been starting to have their first debate about where they would settle down when Uien had, on a whim, sent her thought to the Shire.

"An Elf from this Inn felt my thought, and it was thus that I learned of Derufin and Zimzi's handfasting."

"Ach, the ways of Elves are beyond me!" Cook said.

"I stand with you on that," Falowik said.

"Where is Derufin, Miss Bunce?" Uien asked.

[Oddwen]

Berulo had helped as much as he could with the moving of furniture when he was done eating, and was now helping to "test" the ale. It was a fine proper year, but it wouldn't do to make any mistakes and ruin the party, would it?

After the ale had been tested every which way to Sunday, Berulo walked back into the Inn to see if there was anything left to be carried out. Vaguely, he remembered a bunch of women's work needing to be done, and then there was food...lovely, glorious food.

He let his nose carry him to what he thought might be the kitchen. And he hadn't had any second breakfast, and he had been hauling tables all morning...

And imagine his suprise when he saw an Elf in the kitchen, making sandwiches!

"Er," he began. "Er, ahem, um..."

"Well?" said the hobbit Cook. "What do you want, young man?"

"Pardon me ma'am, sir, lady," he said. "Is there anything to carry out yet?"