The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Kath]

Astilwen was a friendly soul, and had a natural instinct to go to those who looked unhappy or ill at ease. She had come wandering back into the Inn, after spending a few pleasant hours sitting amongst the flowers outside, to search for some food. She was on the way to find one of the girls she had seen serving here the night before, but was distracted by the sight of a woman sitting in the corner alone.

She had a funny half smile on her face, as if amused but saddened by something both at the same time. She was also staring at the large plates of food, but from this distance it was difficult to tell whether it was with longing or she was just staring off into the distance. Deciding to find out which it was, Astiwen set about weaving her way through the crowd of people. She planted herself in front of the woman, leaning forwards so her words could be heard above the music.

"I was just headed over to the buffet, would you like me to fetch you anything?"

[Farael]

Farael was still trying to catch a glimpse of Telu's eyes when he felt a mug of ale all but pressed against his hands. Smiling broadly to hide the fact that he had been really surprised he managed to listen to the man who was talking to him

... I am Bredan of Gondor, and pleased to meet you if you are Gondorian or not.

Farael smiled again, this time happy to find someone from his city "And I am Farael of Gondor, always pleased to meet another soul from the white city". The man looked familiar. Unsettlingly so as he was all but sure he had not seen Bredan before at the Inn.

Still, the mood outside was merry and Farael felt himself relax as he enjoyed the music (and another sip of his ale). "So tell me, Master Bredan, what is a fine man from Gondor doing so far from our city? For it was all but luck that lead me into this city and this Inn"

[Huan]

The Elf drew near Rowan, his eyes sparkling merrily. ‘And shall you answer him, dear Rowan,’ Emlin asked, pulling out his silver fife. He blew a few sweet notes, his brows arched at her expectantly.

‘Well, then,’ she answered, giving a considering look to where Gil stood on the little stage, where he had turned round to talk to his companions. They had just put fiddle to chin and were about to begin themselves, when she sang out from the edge of the space cleared for dancing. Her voice ran gaily along the words as Emlin piped the tune behind her . . .

There were three gypsies a come to my door,
And downstairs ran this lady, O!
One sang high and another sang low,
And the other sang bonny, bonny, Lindon, O!

Then she pulled off her silk finished gown
And put on hose of leather, O!
The ragged, ragged, rags about our door,
She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

It was late last night, when my lord came home,
Enquiring for his a-lady, O!
The servants said, on every hand,
She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

O saddle to me my milk-white steed,
Go and fetch me my pony, O!
That I may ride and seek my bride,
Who is gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

O he rode high and he rode low,
He rode through woods and copses too,
Until he came to an open field,
And there he espied his a-lady, O!

What makes you leave your house and land?
What makes you leave your money, O?
What makes you leave your new wedded lord?
To go with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money, O?
What care I for my new wedded lord?
I'm off with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

Last night you slept on a goose-feather bed,
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
And to-night you'll sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for a goose-feather bed?
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
For to-night I shall sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

'And are we to be the gypsies you've run off with?' asked Talan, laughing, her arm about the Hobbit's waist. 'Or do you mean to give challenge to that poor besotted boy?'

'Perhaps so,' said Rowan, her eyes glinting mischievously. 'I think he will not be caught so easily. And I know that I won't. So let us see how the evening will play out.' She turned away from the stage heading toward the casks of ale. 'Half pint, if you please,' she told the server.

[Undómë]

For a moment she thought she had caught his eye, but Farael turned away even as she raised a hand to wave to him. A man had engaged him in conversation. ‘Later, then,’ she told herself. ‘He is sure to have other interests than merely waiting for me.’

Her attention was engaged by the woman’s voice that rang out across from where she stood. The musicians on the stage had turned to listen to the song. And the one who had sung the first song seemed to listen to the Hobbit lass most intently.

There, behind the woman singer, stood an Elf in a motley of greens and browns. The colors reminded her of her former forest home as did the sweet piping she heard him playing. Telu worked her way around the edges of the crowd standing about the dance area and approached him.

‘Master Piper,’ she called, bowing slightly to him as he turned to her. ‘That was a lovely accompaniment. Where did you learn to play so sweetly?’

[Huan]

Emlin speaks with Teluyaviel

Emlin turned to face his questioner. The soft evening played about her as would a shadow – save shadows were dark and this one light. He bowed to her, a look of pleasure at her greeting on his face. ‘Emlin, at your service, m’lady,’ he said, tucking his fife into the waistband of his breeches. ‘And to be truthful, I have been playing so long, I cannot recall a time when I did not know how to do so.’

He smiled at her. ‘If I might, and if you will not presume me too bold – a bit of an old poem came to me, when first I turned and saw you.’

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

He took her hand without asking leave and twirled her about in front of him. Her dress swirled about her legs and her dark hair lifted as she moved through the light evening breeze. ‘Enchanting,’ he thought to himself.

And then again aloud as she stopped, facing him, ‘What brings someone so fair so far from . . . . the Greenwood, is it. Or do I mistake that certain lilt you have in speaking?’

----

(With respects to Lord Byron for the borrowing of his poem)

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"I was just headed over to the buffet, would you like me to fetch you anything?"

And Ariane snapped out of that melancholy mood that had seemed to swallow her for a moment, taking her away from the inner shadows and the corner she had somehow worked her mind into. It was as if something broke. She blinked hard, then looked up at the face hanging above her.

For a second she almost drifted back, but forced the music and the smells to pull her back to reality. "No, it's all right. I can get myself something. Besides, I don't know what they have." Ariane pulled herself from the chair, brushing her skirt back down and gazing around absently for a moment.

[nynnd1]

"So tell me, Master Bredan, what is a fine man from Gondor doing so far from our city? For it was all but luck that lead me into this city and this Inn"

Bredan looked at him, going straight to his eyes trying to measure if the fellow Gondorian may be told. It is all in the past for me and I have changed, Bredan thought.

“Than you do have the best of luck Farael, for I can not think of many better places for a Gondorian to end up by luck.”

Farael nodded in agreement, and the noise of laughter that came from him made up Bredans’ mind, he may be told.

“I left the great white city two years ago, heading here. I had fallen in love, or rather, I thought I had fallen in love with a lady of Gondor called Iolet, but she was already married, her husband found out and rather than risk confrontation I thought it would be better if I left, she of course did not come with me.”

Bredan than had a terrible thought that maybe he had come to find him, for most people that Bredan knew in Gondor knew how Bredan loved the shire and stories about Hobbits. Bredan looked down to see if Farael was carrying a weapon, he was not. Don’t be silly Bredan, you’re being paranoid.

Bredan carried on,

“I had of course been told many stories about the shire and had wanted to come here. On the way I was attacked by bandits, they killed my horse and robbed me of everything I had, I managed to escape with only my sword, I managed to find my way here to the Green Dragon. I then went and borrowed a horse from Meriadoc Brandybuck and found the bandits to get back my possessions, and I found a lot more besides. So I returned here just today.”

Bredan realised that he had changed the mood slightly with his quite long story, he also realised that his fellow Gondorian had drunk all of his ale whilst listening,

“What say you that we go and get some more ale and you can tell me about your good fortune to end up in Hobbiton?” Bredan said flashing a big smile at Farael.