The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Saelind]

Retreating from the window and standing beside the bed on the far side of the room, Thalion was not surprised to see that Neviel had already dressed and left. He had slept longer than he intended; the lad was undoubtedly hungry as well as tired of being cooped up in a single chamber. Throwing on his own shirt and breeches, Thalion bent down to retrieve his boots. Then he checked to make sure his healer's kit was safely stored at the foot of the bed. Since he saw no need for a bow or dagger, he left these items inside the chamber, lying on top of the chest where blankets and pillows were stored.

Briskly striding out the door into the corridor, Thalion headed for the Common Room where he hoped breakfast was still being served, and he would find Neviel. He had no trouble finding the serving area, but was surprised and a bit alarmed that his son was nowhere in sight. Where had the boy gone off to? Neviel was a sensible Elf; it was not like him to disappear without a word to his father. Glancing around at all the tables to make sure he hadn't overlooked the boy, Thalion couldn't help but be surprised by the wide assortment of folk sitting in the Dragon and eating breakfast. The place seemed to be a hodgepodge of every race and people in Middle-earth: a preponderence of hobbits, but also Men of Gondor and Rohan, traders from Bree and Dale, as well as a sprinkling of Elves and even a dwarf or two. Thalion was especially surprised to notice how many Elves, both male and female, were apparently staying at the Inn or living in the neighborhood. There seemed to be more Elves here than he had seen since leaving Rivendell.

Questioning a pair of men at an adjoining table, Thalion discovered that a young Elf had come in about half an hour before and wolfed down a bowl of porridge but had then heard some hobbits discussing a new school in the neighborhood. Some of the hobbits were very much in favor of the school, while others argued against it, saying that there was no need to put nonsensical ideas into young empty heads. The Elf lad had listened intently, asked where the school would be meeting, and had then disappeared.

"And where exactly might this new school be?" Thalion echoed the words of the men.

But the two only shrugged their shoulders, noting that such matters did not concern them. Seeing Thalion's bewilderment, a hobbit lass serving the meals came over and spoke up, "I'm Ruby. Remember me from last night? Maybe I can help. The school will be on the first floor along the rear of the Inn. There's an outside door that overlooks the back courtyard and garden. You can enter from there, if you'd like." Ruby pointed him in the right direction. All thoughts of his own breakfast pushed aside and eager to track down Neviel, Thalion stood up and thanked her, trotting off in the direction that she had pointed, before Ruby could say anything else.

[Fairleaf]

Daisy and Reggie come to sign up and help out; Reggie puts a question to Neviel

Wilfrid Chubb pulled up his cart to the front porch of the Inn. ‘Whoa up, there, Larkspur!’ he called to the pony, pulling back on the reins. ‘Now, Mari,’ he said to his wife as she got down and helped the children off. ‘I’ll just wait to the side of the path while you get the two signed up. You find out about when we should pick them up. Remember, we got to move some of the ewes into the lambing barns; the late bloomers.’

Mari nodded at his request saying she’d be right back. She reached in beneath her seat and pulled out two little lidded pails and handed one each to Daisy and to Reggie. ‘Now you’ve both got an apple and some honeyed corn fritters if you get hungry. I’m sure Miz Bella will have some water for you to drink if you get thirsty.’ She brushed back Daisy’s curls with her hand and wiped a smudge off Reggie’s cheek. ‘Let’s go and find Miz Bella and get you settled in.’

Directions were gotten and the three Hobbits made their way to the classroom. Daisy and Reggie went into the classroom itself, while their mother went to Miz Bella's little office.

There were a number of Hobbits already milling about in the classroom. And to Daisy, it looked as if the order for the day was to get the classroom all put together. There were still a few books to be sorted and Daisy pitched in after asking one of the older girls what they were doing. She admired the shelf of red books saying they looked kind of like a little range of hills all lined up like they were with the tallest in the center.

Reggie was not quite so interested in the tidying up that was going on. Neatness had never been one of his stronger points. But over in one corner he had found a small box filled with pieces of nice fat chalk that just fit his chubby little fingers. No one was paying any attention as he squatted down and drew a good sized circle on the wooden floor. From his pocket he took a small worn leather, drawstring pouch. Inside it were his marbles. He looked about for someone who might want to play. The girls were all talking and sorting and putting stuff on shelves. But there just at the doorway peeking in was a boy . . . one of the Big Folk, and kind of skinny. He looked about the same age as his sister. Maybe he would want to play.

‘Hey, you want to play?’ the five year old asked, going over to where the boy stood. ‘My name is Reggie.’ He looked up hopefully at the boy. ‘I’ve got enough marbles. We could share.’

[Mithalwen]

Mithalwen had ordered a hearty breakfast by elf standards for she had not eaten the previous night what with one thing and another, but by the time the meal arrived she found she had lost her appetite. Back in the common room she could not avoid the memories of last night as she had when absorbed in her designs or during her morning ride..

Aman's anger was understandable, and she had expected it... but she did not expect it to have pained her so much. I must learn not to get involved, ever, with anyone, especially mortals, she thought. She had not seen either the inn-keeper or Snaveling since they had left the common room the previous evening and perhaps that was a good thing. The woman's ire had been impressive. She would get these braces made for the crippled child and leave as soon as possible. All her best efforts were misunderstood.

She ate her meal for it was paid for with her room, and it was substantial enough that she need not bear the expense of further meals that day, but the fare gave her no pleasure. The fresh, wholesome dishes might have been dry crusts for all the joy the elf took in them; her spirits had not been so low for a long time. Lost in her own thoughts she barely noticed the other customers.

As soon as she had finished she collected her tool bag and left the inn. The village smith, Toby Flaxman, had been helpful and courteous two mornings ago when she had taken her horse to be shod but she did not know how he would react now that she was asking for help.

[Arry]

Gil speaks with Miz Bella

Woody and Hanson make friends

Gil leaned casually against the door frame, his cap in his hands. His older sister Laura had sent him in early to the Inn to see about getting her two younger sons into the new school. Gil was groaning at the early hour and chiding himself for telling her about Miz Bella at all. ‘Never mind that you had a bit too much of the Dragon’s ale last night. Call it a bit of payment for letting you stay here, Gil Tussock, until your own place is done,’ Laura had had told him. ‘You can explain to Mister Banks what made you a bit late.’

Woodruff (or Woody as he was mostly called), eleven, and Hanson, five, were not as unenergetic as their uncle. They had promised him they would be good, but could they please, please go in and have a look around. ‘G’wan, then,’ he’d told them both, taking a quick look in at the schoolroom. ‘I’ll just wait here ‘til Miz Bella is done talking to that other woman; then, I’ll get the both of you signed up.’ As an afterthought, and because he thought he should do it since he was after all their uncle, Gil called after them as they ran into the room. ‘Woody and Hanson Boffin, you be good now.’

---

‘Hey, look, Woody!’ Hanson pointed to the back part of the room where someone had drawn a circle on the floor. There were two boys there, one a Hobbit who looked to be about Hanson’s age. And another, taller, boy. One of the Big Folk, he thought. The younger boy held a bag of marbles and had taken one out to show the other boy.

‘They’re gonna play marbles,’ Hanson said, tugging on his brother’s shirt. ‘Let’s see if we can join in.’

[littlemanpoet]

As Uien was walking around the side the Green Dragon, a stray thought came to her.

<I must learn not to get involved, ever, with anyone, especially mortals.>

Uien frowned, and tried to calm her mind, sensing the textures of relation running from Mithalwen to others. I really have no business probing her thought. She resolved to stop, but it was much harder to sever the link than not to begin them in the first place. So she sensed the braided and chafed linkage between Mithalwen and the man, Snaveling, and between Mithlawen and Aman. Uien's brow rose. Fair Aman? What trouble could be brewing there? Had not Snaveling had a sudden revelation? Uien shook her head. So much could be read, but very little could be learned from it. And most of it is none of your business.

When Uien entered the Common Room, she looked around to find that Mithalwen had already left. Uien wondered if she should go speak with Aman, but thought better of it, turned, and left the Inn in search of Mithalwen.

[Nurumaiel]

Marigold nodded and dropped to her knees next to Camille, and began to pick up the books one by one, sorting them as she had been instructed. Occasionally she would stop and study the title, and then open the book and turn the pages. She looked at the pictures, silently mouthed a few words, and then, with a shake of her head, closed the book and set it up on the shelf.

The door opened and Marigold looked up with a bright smile, expecting to see Falco Headstrong, but her smile fell not upon him, but upon a young hobbit lad with a little girl at his side. He appeared to be in his teens, and she about eleven or twelve. They were obviously of the same family, and looked so much alike that it was comical. Friendly but rather shy brown eyes; rather ruffled brown hair; skin a little browner than Marigold's own. The boy's hair was a little bit lighter than the girl's, and of course hers was longer, but it was the only real difference in their features.

Camille and Marigold stared at the boy and girl, and the boy and girl stared back, and then, after a few moments of silence, the boy tipped the cap that was on his head and said: "Good morning. Is this the new school?"

His manner was very courteous, but very 'manly' (though, of course, he was a hobbit). Camille and Marigold were perhaps too young to see it, but an older hobbit who was accustomed to children, such as Falco Headstrong, would have made a reasonable guess that this young boy had been instructed in manners by a good father who upheld the practice of gallant behaviour to the ladies. This boy had none of the feminine touches in his manner that might have been a result of a ladylike mother's instructions.

"Yes," said Marigold, getting up from her knees. "Miz Bella is over in that room, if you want to go talk to her. But, if you like, you could just stay here and help us, and talk to her when she comes out again."

"Let's do that," said the little girl quickly, and looking urgently up at her brother.

"Very well!" he said, with a laugh. "But you needn't be so very frightened... Miz Bella is going to teach you, not eat you."

"Do you know any of your letters?" Camille asked.

"No," he replied. "That's why my sister is so afraid of Miz Bella. We don't know anything about learning, and we're not quite sure what to expect. I don't even know how to spell my own name. And, of names, mine is Haltred Hedgeworth, and this is my sister Estella."

"Marigold Baker is my name, and this is Camille," said Marigold, giving a little courtesy. "And we can't forget to mention Ginger, who works here." She wondered if it was relevant to mention in the introductions that one of those boys Mr. Headstrong was always hanging about with was really very fond of Ginger, and decided against it. They had work to do. She gestured to the pile of books. "We're organising these books by size," she said. "Come and help us."

With shyness, but pleasure at being invited, Haltred and Estella Hedgeworth joined the little group.

[Saelind]

Neviel glanced uneasily at Reggie who had asked him to play as well as Woody and Hanson who had wandered over with the obvious intention of being let in on the fun. The Elf picked up one of the marbles that Reggie had taken out of his small leather pouch and examined it more closely. He had seen mannish boys playing marbles in Rivendell, but only from a distance. The shape and appearance of the little balls intrigued him. Some were a simple brown or gray, evidently made from smooth clay. A few of Reggie's were true beauties fashioned of glass and sparkling with color. It was these that caught Neviel's eye. Tentatively, as if handling a very special treasure, he fingered the smooth texture of one of the glass balls.

"Oh, how lovely!" the young Elf noted with approval. "Such bright colors all swirled together!" Neviel glanced down nervously at the circle that had been drawn on the ground and gazed over at the hobbit who had first addressed him. "I'd love to play marbles with you. But I have no idea what to do. My father and I have been on the road, and I don't get to do such things." What he did not mention was that with so few Elven children about, having a playmate was a rare treat. "Sorry, Reggie, I've never played marbles. But if you can show me I'll try to learn."

Neviel shifted uneasily from one foot to the other wondering what the hobbit lad would say. Bending down to get a closer look at the circle that had been chalked on the floor, the young Elf thought he saw the two brothers dart a surprised look between them.