The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[littlemanpoet]

"So, tell us, Falowik," Denegal smiled, "how have you been so lucky as to find that elusive sentiment - love?"

Falowik had taken an immediate liking to this rather young man in his odd footwear. He smiled back. "May I sit down?"

"Of course!" said Denegal. Thenergal and Sherman grunted their willingness as well, and Falowik sat down among them.

"Lucky? Nay, I was blessed. I did not look for love, had no thought for it. An accident brought me to this very place months ago. I was a wanderer north of here, an exile from Bree, which is a tale for another time. I lived in the wild, for there was no one there to mistrust. One day I stumbled upon a foul deed, and witnessed a man taken against his will by ruffians. He saw me as he was being taken away, and with his eyes begged me to do what I could. Almost, I did nothing. But I came to the Shire and reported the crime, and was brought here by one of their shirrifs. That night I met Uien the Elf lady, and straightway she became as a loadstone to me; she drew my mind, my eye, even good words came from me ... a rare thing in those days. But I did not seek her out. I was rough-spoken and thought all folk were untrustworthy and troublesome. I left the inn and stayed outside. I do not know to this day what sent her out of the inn to me where I sat under the night sky. But come she did, and touched me who shrank from another's touch. Somehow she was drawn to me as much as I was drawn to her, and to this day it is a wonder to me."

As Falowik had sat and talked at greater length than he ever rememberd having done, the Tinumir hanging from the necklace he wore could be seen glinting with its own light in the afternoon shadows. Falowik noticed their eyes drawn to it.

"She gave me this, and wears its twin. I braided the five strips of leather that form the neckpiece; she made this by her Art, capturing starlight within the stone. Even now she knows through hers that I think of her, and she of me. So yes, Denegal, I am lucky. I deserve none of it."

[peral]

Sharya sighed, feeling guilty for what she had done earlier. It was a wanton show of violence and was uncalled for. She tugged at the knife embedded in the wood and pulled it out. She sheathed it and got the attention of Ruby.

"Excuse me, could I possibly get some lunch?" Ruby seemed more than happy to oblige Sharya, but before she managed to leave to fetch the aforementioned lunch, Sharya caught ahold of her sleeve. "I'm sorry, for my behaviour earlier, slamming the knife into the table like that. I just don't know what came over me. I also seem to have damaged the table somewhat, but I can pay for the repairs. Just please," she looked pleadingly at the hobbit, "please don't throw me out."

Ruby smiled. "I don't think you need to worry about that, miss. I'll just speak to the cook about that. Meanwhile, I'll go get you your lunch, with...would that be cider, ale, tea or water, miss?"

Sharya looked relieved. "Cider please."

Ruby nodded and smiled and went to get Sharya's lunch for her. Almost instantly, it appeared in front of her and Sharya thanked the girl. Glancing out the window, she noticed as if for the first time, the rain steadily beating down.

"What a day," she sighed.

She dug into the warm soup and bread, and soon lost herself, in the delicious meal.

[samsmyhero]

"Yes, that seems to be true to form for love and all the romantic sentiments." Denegal grimaced and shook his head. "Whether one deserves its blessing or its curse, love seems most capricious in handing out its favors. Those who seem most undeserving somehow manage to come out the winners." The young soldier's tone had a bitter ring to it.

A slight frown passed over Falowik's face, and Denegal, noting his companion's look, hastened to add, "Not all who win it are undeserving. I didn't mean to imply that. I have known many couples, good men and women, who were well suited for each other and who were both good people, deserving of happiness. My parents were such. Until . . . until my father died. Perhaps it's just my own misfortune that makes me see the world thus." He fell silent and brooding, his face a dark study in self-pity. The heavy rain that was now falling in sheets outside the snug inn reflected the heaviness of his mood.

Thenergal and Sherman shifted about uncomfortably in their seats. This love lorn Gondorian was certainly not improving the grey weather outside with his sighing and moaning. Sherman, bored with all this talk of love, leaned over to look once more at Denegal's feet and asked "But I still don't see how it is that your losing a girl would make you want to wear those fancy slippers?"

"I don't want to wear them!" Denegal replied, with some exasperation. "I lost my left boot some days back, and had to leave the place where it was . . . lost in some haste. I had no other choice but to journey on, and the road has been a hard and rocky one. My left foot, as you can see", here he removed his foot from the slipper and held it aloft for all to see, "has suffered greatly. That kind little woman over there" he pointed out Ruby who was bustling about bringing out lunches from the kitchen, "Allowed me to make a search of a wardrobe upstairs and I found these discarded amongst other unwanted items. I assure you, they were the only shoes that fit. If I had the means, I would seek out a cobbler and have a new pair of boots made. But, alas, my purse will not allow for such luxuries."

Sherman looked somewhat reassured by this explanation, at least that Denegal was not wearing the slippers voluntarily, exactly. "Uh, you can put your foot down." He pointed at the foot still dangling in the air by his face.

[Mithalwen]

It was unfortunate that Mithalwen was on the far side of Snaveling or her swifter elvish reactions might have been enough to prevent the situation escalating. As it was she had to make the split second decision of whether to follow the horse and his most vulnerable rider on foot or on horseback. The latter would cause a delay but if the great steed had not chosen to bolt rather than explore the Inn's grounds, even she would not be swift enough on foot. She blamed herself already. she should have made clear to Marigold that all horses were not as Aeglos, trained to respond to the mind of the owner as well as the movements of the rider. This horse of Aman's was not elf trained and had responded to the kick as most of his kind would.

To the elf each moment seemed and eternity, but to Snaveling the elf movements were a blur as she sprang on to her own horses back. With no harness other than the head stall and lead rope, she was in pursuit of Marigold and Felarof and dreading what she might see when she found them. She trusted Aeglos absolutely, though the yard stones were treacherous in the the rain, that was falling steadily once more. she attempted to reach the other horse also with her mind.

Now it was Snaveling's turn for each moment to pass as an eternity. It seemed forever but it was a matter of minutes before he heard returning hooves. Felarof, riderless was following Aeglos, docile as anything, but Mithalwen bore Marigold in her arms and to Snaveling, the child was ominously still.

[Nurumaiel]

It was at this moment, when Marigold lay limp in Mithalwen's arms, that Falco Headstrong came hurrying up the path to the Inn, his head bent to keep the rain from his face, and his arms encircling one or two packages to keep them from being soaked. His eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, and he did not look up until he reached the door to the Inn, and so he saw nothing of what had occured. He entered the Common Room, triumphantly brandishing the packages, and he saw at once that both Marigold and the Big Folk fellow were no longer at the table. He looked about thoughtfully, and concluded that the one was with Miss Buttercup or one of the other serving maids, and that the other had gone about his own business, have wearied of entertaining a small hobbit lass.

Falco took himself to Marigold's room, where he proceeded to unwrap the packages and spread their contents out upon the bed, picturing to himself all the while what Marigold's face would look like when she saw this surprise he had prepared for her. Upon the bed he had laid a fairly simple yet very pretty blue frock, with a large diamond-shaped ruffle at the neckline; a white blouse, with buttons up the front and a ribbon to tie up the very top, and trimmed with lace; an eight-paneled green skirt with a pattern of darker green flowers woven in; a red dress gathered at the waist; and a simple white gown with a very slight waistline, accompanied with a blue sash. He knew very little about dresses and skirts and such things, for he had never paid much attention to his sisters' and mother's shopping, and had never had any little girls of his own to care for (and even then he had little doubt that the mother would be in charge of choosing the clothes), but the young hobbit girl at the counter had assisted him very cheerily, and he could tell even with his limited knowledge that the clothes would be very good for Marigold.

He returned to the Common Room, and wondered anew what could have become of Marigold. He questioned one of the maids who was passing by, and she said she had not seen the girl since she had been talking with Snaveling. Falco regretted that he had not yet made the acquaintance of the girl he had just questioned, for that would have advanced this a little farther. Have a slight acquaintance with Buttercup, it would have been much easier to question her about the matter, as she would already know what Marigold looked like, and where she would be apt to go.

"She is probably with Miss Buttercup," Falco murmured. "I don't know where else she would go, and that Big Folk fellow wouldn't kidnap her in broad daylight with all these people about. She'll probably returned for her lunch in good time." And so he sat down at the table to await little Marigold's return.

[Atarah]

Tulip was drenched from head to toe in water. After Sharya left she had gone outside, being careful to go the opposite way to her friend lest the temptation to follow her became too strong. Tulip had walked quite a long way by the time it started to rain and she tutted at herself for not remembering the clouds above. She turned back toward the Inn, but didn't change her pace as she was already soaked through anyway. Something in the corner of her eye made her stop and turn. Could it be? Yes! It was an enormous puddle, one of the biggest she had ever seen. Forgetting her constant want to act grown up, she ran full speed at the puddle and jumped at the last moment. There was a large splash as she landed in the puddle and muddy water covered her white dress from the waist down, turning it a dull brown colour. Tulip laughed as she played in the puddle some more, then skipped back to the Green Dragon Inn, jumping in every puddle she set her eyes on.

When Tulip got back to the Inn her dress was caked in mud and she was incredibly cold, but happy none the less. She stood in the doorway for awhile, taking in who was there and what was happening. By the looks of things it was lunchtime, and her good friend Sharya was back. She walked to her friend's table and took a seat, noticing an odd mark on the table surface.

"Hello again friend," Tulip said with a smile. She looked at Sharya's food and decided she'd order some food after she caught up with Sharya. "So, did you get everything done you needed to?"

[Mithalwen]

Snaveling look anxiously at her and Mithalwen, shook her head. Seeing that she had increased rather than alleviated his anxiety, Mithalwen spoke. "She isn't dead Tar-Corondir, and she has no broken bones or I would not have moved her thus. She fell only when Felarof stopped, tempted by the plants in the kitchen garden. But it is a long fall for such a small child and she fell on rough and stony ground - she hit her head I fear" the child's sweet face was marred by scratches and already there were signs of bumbs and bruises forming. "Take her from me - we need to get her inside ".

Mithalwen passed Marigold into Snaveling's arms, and slipped from Aeglos's back. she found that her legs were unsteady beneath her, so frightened had she been for the child's safety and was glad that the stableman, Meriadoc, emerged from taking his lunch opportunely and she entrusted both horses to him.

She was glad to hear a murmur from Marigold as Snaveling carried her into the inn. the child was coming around. Snaveling set her down on a long padded bench under the window and Mithalwen gently examined Marigold's wounds. "Wake up miss Marigold, you are safe and sound" ..she was rewarded by a faint and slightly groggy smile.

Mithalwen reckoned that the child would need a hot bath, a good meal, and yarrow to treat her wounds. Then an early night would probably put her right. She sent Snaveling to ask the kitchen about hot water and if they had the herb though its use was more medicinal than culinary and when she sensed a presence behind her she thought it was him returned.

[Sett]

A horse trod along the east - west road with a man of gondorian origins jumped off as he pulled the horse to the front yard of an inn called the green dragon. He then noticed a stable and walked up to it.

“Hello there”

“why hello there strange one I am Meriadoc the stable keeper.”

The gondorian gave the horse up and threw the stable master some gold coins. He walked up the inn via the path. Upon entering the inn he was instantly greeted by Sherman and Therengol who shot up from their seats like lightening at the sight of this man.

“my fellow kinsman I bring word from Gondor” replied the man

Sherman and Therengol speeded up as they approached him and dragged him to the bar. They both were eager to speak with him but the others could tell that they were below him in terms of rank.

“This is an urgent visit. I must warn you that the ship is a trap set up by the corsair. They thought we were going send more than you four but alas we have not and you are going to your death.”

“tell me where is Galither for I wish to speak with him.”

The two men shared blank expressions which quickly turned to guilt. In which time Falmir came down the stairs as well.

“Earlingthor!” exclaimed Falmir

The engaged a conversation between the four of them about their mission and the dangers they were facing. The two men revealed that Galither had left earlier on and had said about scouting the area. Earlingthor grabbed the three of them and brought them out of the inn. He was not impressed by what had been going on and forced them all onto the horse and to find Galither.

“I am going back to gondor now and have no more to say on the matter. You are not to go near the extraction site nor are you required to stay in this area once you have found Galither which you will do if you value life then you shall bring him back alive.” Earlingthor revealed

“But but” cried the three men

“go now! More orders will be waiting for you at bree. Goodbye and count yourselves lucky I have come to stop you or you may be riddled with arrows but a few days from now

[Child of the 7th Age]

Miz Bella was looking decidedly better than when she'd first been carried inside the evening before. Her unruly curls were firmly pushed behind her ears and held in place by a bright green ribbon. She was wearing a maroon dress with a grey sash tied around her waist, a garment that Cook had kindly deposited on one of the armchairs for her to try on earlier that morning. Although a bit pale, Miz Bella was beginning to regain her strength and good nature. Still, she was extraordinarily slender for a hobbit. It looked as if a good wind could blow her away.

Bella had been seated at the table leafing through a number of books when she head foorsteps approaching in the hallway. She called out a welcome and scurried forward to open the door.

Seeing the large tray of goodies in Cook's hand, she quickly made space for the teapot and toast on the table and pushed a chair over for her guest to sit down. Then she poured two cups of honeyed tea and offered one to Cook. "You are too kind. You really needn't have done all this. I'm quite sure you have plenty of guests and duties to keep you busy. I just don't know what to say. But I at least wanted you to know that I do have money to pay for my room and meals, and that I certainly don't want to push you out of your own parlor."

Before Cook could open her mouth or ask another question, Bella had whisked over to the corner where some of her clothes from the previous night had been haphazardly tossed onto the floor (an occurence that was quite unusual for Cook's parlour). She picked up the ragged skirt out of the pile and began to work at the threads with her nimble fingers. She undid one seam and a number of coins that had been hidden came bouncing out. "There's more where this comes from," assured Bella, pointing to the other clothes on the floor, "but I hope this will hold me for a while."

"Hold you?" piped up Cook. "This will do more than hold you. It should keep you comfortable for quite a while."

"I'm no good with money. It's all looks the same to me," Bella shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "You see most of my life I lived with folk who traded goods in an honest manner but had no coins at all. But before my parents sailed west, when they were still trekking over the wide earth, Mother had several Dwarf friends who taught her how to dig in caves or quarries or abandoned mines and come up with gemstones. She was so good at it they would tease and say she must be a dwarf in disguise. Father had no feel for the thing. He would spend the day hunting and digging and wind up with nothing. But he did learn how to cut and polish the stones that Mother found. She kept one or two for herself but they sold the rest as they passed through the towns. Over the years, they traded for a number of gold pieces that eventually passed to me. I try not to use them except in very tight times."

"But I've talked too much. And I haven't explained the reason I wanted to speak with you. I am thinking of settling here for a bit. I've never lived in the Shire so perhaps it's time for me to come home. I need some honest work so I can make my own way. I have no kinfolk at all, or at least if I do, I don't know them and they have never met me, and probably they would prefer to keep it that way. Ginger said something to me this morning that started me thinking. Father told me about the dame schools: how hobbit ladies would teach the little ones in their homes their basic numbers and letters, and keep them occupied while the parents were off doing other things. I'm wondering if you have a school like that in these parts, or if you think there would be a need for such a place. I would not expect to make a great deal, just enough to keep a roof over my head and a meal or two. The parents could pay me with pennies or some produce from their gardens."

"The only problem is," added Miz Bella with a sigh, "is that I have no burrow of my own. And I have no idea where I could find suitable lodgings for such an undertaking...."