The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Nogrod]

‘Come Master Reddie, Mistress Naria. Won’t you join us?’ Telu smiled at the both of them, daring them to rise and follow along.

Naria took a close look at Rían, as he hesitantly tried to look somewhere else. At last he had to face her inquisitive stare. Slowly he managed to utter a propositon that could save him: "We can't leave master Bredan here all alone, now can we?" But Bredan's answer was just chill to him: "You two just go, I have a pint here to finish off". He even made a smile after his remark.

As Naria rose and took his hand, Reddie couldn't but follow her. They joined the dance, not far away from Farael and Telu. They went along with the rhythm and the other dancing crowd; now in lines, now in rows - as a pair at a time, as a part of a larger group at another. Everyone seemed to be smiling, and the merry feeling even took Reddie Sundry over for a moment. He relaxed somewhat and managed even to smile a little, truly, not faking it.

As the piece ended, Naria looked at him, her eyes begging the question "one more?" with clarity and precision that didn't need any words to help with the delivery. Reddie took a firm grip of her waist and turned to the direction the other dancers had already turned. This was even faster paced one than the earlier: the band seemed to be playing so fast it could, just to get to their intermission a bit earlier.

Just as the dancers had reached their highest spirits, the music stopped. Tomlin announced, that it was a time for a break, and that everyone should tuck some ale and food into their stomachs so that they could dance some more later.

"For an easterling, you seem to know local dances quite well", remarked Naria with a smile. Reddie was confused. Should he pick the subject or not? At last he thought of correcting at least the obvious mistake - even though he knew, it had been made as a joke. Maybe he would still have to open himself a bit, it might be easier that way?

"Well, I'm not exactly an easterling to begin with. My father was a beorning and my mother from Esgaroth", he said and started moving back towards their table, still holding Naria's hand in his. Naria did not follow immediately, so that Reddie had to stop. "You said was?" she asked, raising her eyebrow a little. "Was, yes. Were. My mother died because of my birth, my father two years ago, trying to save me from harm." Reddie seemed to be delving in his memories for a second. He seemed to be quite moved - and was so. After a short, but victorius, battle against the tears, he continued, now with a calmer voice: "I seem to be lethal company, so watch out..." He drew Naria firmly to move with him towards their table. He let her hand go only after they had reached it.

[Naria]

The band had decided to take a short break and it's a good thing too because Naria was feeling a bit dizzy from the dancing and maybe the ale. She took a deep breath of air into her lungs thinking to herself isn't it a beautiful night couldn't have asked much better for a party. Before she let herself get swept away in her thoughts she remembered the man that seemed to have taken a fancy to her. She looked over to her right and watched him speaking to another man at the table and wondered what could make him almost come to tears during a grand time as this. She thought maybe he will come with me to the stables later so we can talk without interruption. After all, Naria hadn't checked on Flicker in quite some time and Master Sundry could come and meet her friend.

Naria's wooden cup was empty and needed some ale. She scanned the tables for the barrel and noticed that Penn was milling around aimlessly. "Gentlemen, I have spotted a friend in need of some conversation will you please excuse me." They rose too their feet and she gave them a gracious nod and took her leave from the table.

She poured herself another ale and walked over to Penn. "Where have you been this eve? I thought maybe we had lost each other." Naria said with apparent merriment in her voice.

[Lhunardawen]

Tilionwen did not really want to go back gazing at the Moon. She promised herself earlier that that would be the last time she would ever do so, lest she completely lose the will to turn away again. But seeing that she was unwanted, that nobody even bothered to speak with her, she realized that it would be better to go back to Him than to look like a desperate fool.

The Moon looked back at her in an expression that seemed to say the words I told you so. Tilionwen felt her cheeks grow warm, and her sad eyes drooped ever so slightly. Then at that instant, all the determination she previously had slowly ebbed away. She tried to fight the rising desire to give in, but her grip on herself continued to weaken...

That's when she heard a soft voice behind her. "Hello. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Tilionwen smiled inwardly and gave the Moon a look of triumph, but He was not about to give up just yet. For a few moments He continued to strive with her, but Tilionwen found new strength in that pleasant-sounding female voice. It was an intense struggle, and eventually she succeeded. Slowly she turned her face away from the Moon to find two ladies. With a grateful expression in her glazed eyes she answered the hobbit, "I think I'll be quite fine, thank you. I would not want to burden such kind people as the two of you."

[Thinlómien]

Merry tunes reached Grimhorn's ears as he walked towards the inn that he had been recommended. The Green Dragon, he thought and grinned to himself. Interesting choice for a name for an inn at these parts of the world.

Grimhorn, himself, was a beorning from the Anduin Vales. He was a big, hairy man, with long dark brown hair and a short beard. He was not a young man anymore; there were grey strips in his hair and beard and lines in the corners of his eyes. He had beady eyes and a big nose. A big scar ran across his left cheek. Grimhorn was not a handsome man.

He was clad all in green, his favourite colour, and carried a big axe with him. His clothes were a bit too warm in this mild country, so he had stripped off his warm cloak and was carrying it only on one shoulder.

The inn was clearly hosting a party tonight. Again, Grimhorn grinned. It had been a long while from the last time he had been to a party. And, he liked parties. And with all this prancing little folk, it will be even more funny, he thought. With the grin that he himself considered friendly, but some people considered scary, on his face he entered the party grounds.

[JennyHallu]

Losse viewed the lighted inn ahead of her with relief and interest. She'd not been able to find a suitable pony in Bree, and her city-bred feet were beginning to get to her. Though she had been travelling (albeit rather aimlessly) for months, she knew there were some things she would never enjoy, such as walking and passing through towns where people carefully locked up their livestock.

Even worse were the nights she was forced to camp. She didn't mind sleeping on rough ground, not having had regular access to a real bed since early childhood, and it wasn't too cold, considering the thickness of the cloak she'd filched before leaving Minas Tirith, and neither was she a bad hand at hunting...she was a natural hand with ranged weapons, and her small bow showed signs of being well-cared for and well used (not to mention the throwing knives she'd concealed on her person). In fact she rather enjoyed the clear nights, and the beauty of the stars. They were harder and harder to see in Minas Tirith, slowly filling again with people with the ascension of the King.

Really, it was her cooking. If she had to spend one more night eating squirrel she'd managed to leave half-raw while burning the rest, she'd scream. Or just go quietly mad, which she was seventy-five percent sure was worse.

But an inn...

As she approached, watching the silhouette of a large Man step into the lighted yard, she began to pick out the sounds of music and revelry within. An inn with a party! Perhaps she'd be able to replenish her dangerously low reserves of coin. She grinned to herself.

Thievery, what fun! Her grey eyes lit up with mischief. She was tall and slim, maybe eighteen years old, with long dark hair, and sea-grey eyes that spoke to a probably strong strain of Numenorean blood in her veins, but if there was, it had never done her any good. Losse was trouble: good-hearted, pretty, joyful, young, but definitely trouble, and the messes that had started this oddysey had not taught her anything. It was with that twinkle in her eye that she entered the yard and took a seat near the end of the tables to watch the patrons--and pick a mark.

[Farael]

Kind sir,’ she said, grinning impishly at him as she made a little curtsy. ‘Will you chance another stepped on toe or two?’

"What?" his thoughts were "Another dance? for the King and the White Tree she knows I can't say no but how will I manage to stay away from her toes at an even faster pace?" yet his smile contradicted his thoughts as he said "It would be a honour, my fair Teluyaviel."

It was a fast, fun song although as Farael remembered it the day after, he had the nagging feeling that some of the words were unknown to him. Specially the concept of "pistol" who the singer seemed to draw twice yet use only once. But this all had not happened yet and after successfully (although perhaps not very gracefully) avoiding stepping on Telu's toes, Farael held her hand in his and kissed her fingers. "I hope you forgive me, but this man is getting tired and it seems the band wants to take a little break as well. How about we go grab a mug of... water?"

[Nogrod]

After Naria left the table, Reddie concentrated on emptying his pint. He had almost enjoyed dancing with a female! And in the end, hadn’t even being totally baffled and shaky. But now the shakes were coming: he felt some cold sweat starting to form on his forehead, and his hands started to tremble, slowly at first. He also noticed, that emptying the pint had been relatively easy, and that every drop of the ale was indeed consumed. He would need some solitude, and need it soon.

He excused himself for Bredan, telling him, that he would need some fresh air after all the dancing, and that he would be back later on. Bredan nodded and Reddie took to the door. As he reached the door, he turned his head to see what Farael, Telu or Naria were up to, and crashed to something that was broad and hard as a stonewall. But this wall was moving, and had eyes that were looking straight to him.

It doesn’t necessarily take a beorning to know another, but when you are even half a one, it’s easier got get a hunch of another beorning’s mind. This one didn’t look angry for his tumbling him, Reddie thought to himself. The colossus grinned in a way that could even be interpreted as a smile. He might be wrong though... Trusting his intuition, Reddie smiled back, and said to this tower of a man in front of him: “Sorry my friend, I was just lost in my thoughts. Never quite saw, what hit me." Reddie produced a smile, but immediately gathered, that the pun had been a bad one, as it was. Reddie went on to safer approaches: "My name is Rían, Rían Sundry from Mirkwood. You might have known my father, the “old hermit Sundry” the people called him. I was indeed going out to have a pipeful, but if you’d care to share a pint with a fellow beorning, I would be happy to buy you one.”

Be in good relations with all the beornings that are bigger and stronger than you are. That was rule number one he had learned quite early on his life. Rule number two went: if you have even the faintest suspicion, that you have offended one of those, be quick to compensate. And after all, it had been a long time since he had met another beorning.

[Kath]

"I think I'll be quite fine, thank you. I would not want to burden such kind people as the two of you."

"Oh it's no trouble at all. We've all burdens of one kind or another and as the saying goes - a problem shared is a problem halved, or in this case cut into three! Please, won't you join us? You don't have to tell us of your troubles, but we wouldn't mind the company."

And without waiting for much of an answer, Astilwen took her hand and gently tugged, pleased when the woman came willingly. Returning to the bench with Ariane and this new woman in tow, she ran off to refill their glasses, and get a drink for their new companion.

Returning, she found Ariane and the newcomer in conversation, with the latter just telling her name.

". . . Tilionwen."

"Another pretty name! Is it Elvish?" Asked the ever inquistive hobbit, as she joined them again.

[Thinlómien]

Something tumbled against Grimhorn. He looked down to it. The creature was a young man with red hair. It was babbling something. Probably an apology. Grimhorn waved his hand as to wipe the apology away. Then the creature managed to present itself: "My name is Rían, Rían Sundry from Mirkwood. You might have known my father, the 'old hermit Sundry' the people called him. I was indeed going out to have a pipeful, but if you’d care to share a pint with a fellow beorning, I would be happy to buy you one.”

"I have never anything against a pint, or good company", he said and looked at the young man critically. Then he nodded to add weight to his words. A good beorning lad, that is. But it is a bit small, it has to have some lesser blood in it, he thought. Then he said: "My name is Grimhorn, son of Grimgor and I'm from Anduin Vales. Nice to meet you, lad." He had never liked idle pleasantries but sometimes they were needed. Then he grunted and added: "Now, let's go and have the beer. I've walked a long way today and I want to give some rest to my feet. And you can have your smoke while we sit down and drink."