The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Maeggaladiel]

The horse's hooves beat a slow, steady rhythm on the earth as it plodded down the road. It was in no hurry, and neither was its rider. She sat relaxed in the saddle, whistling a tune in time to the horse's footsteps.

After a moment, the rhythm was broken as the woman's whistle turned from a nameless tune to a little trill of admiration. The horse slowed.

"The Green Dragon, aye?" she mused, reading the painted sign. She tapped her chin with a finger. "What say we stop for today, hmm?" Resuming her whistling, she led the horse to the stables.


Soon after, Hallien Winterwood strode into the Green Dragon Inn. She was, admittedly, a peculiar sight. A wide-brimmed hat of a color that must have been bright red at one time was perched on top of her head. There was a long white feather tucked into the band. Under the hat was a smiling face, somewhat obscured by a pair of small wire-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of her nose. The curled head of some sort of stringed musical instrument poked out of the bag hanging across her back and a dozen or so small leather pouches were hanging from her belt. A weather-worn book was tucked under one arm.

She was indeed a sight, from the top of her hat, to the long faded blue jacket, to the crimson skirt, right down to the end of her road-weary leather boots. If she knew this, she did not show it. Instead she adjusted her glasses, shifted the book, and walked up to the bar, humming to herself.

[piosenniel]

~*~ GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS ~*~

The Green Dragon Inn is located in Bywater, just off the Great East-West Road.

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is: Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, General handyman/jack-of-all-trades round the Inn; Man from southwestern Gondor (played by Envinyatar) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Zimzi (Zimziran), wife to Derufin; a skilled potter from Lindon(played by Pio) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Meri - Stablemaster

Tim Woodlock - Stableboy; Wren - his younger sister: humans, originally from Breeland (characters played by Folwren)

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.

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About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

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EVERYONE

Please be familiar with The Red Book of Westmarch which gives the rules for posting in the Shire RPG's and in The Green Dragon Inn.

Thanks!

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[piosenniel]

It's now very late in the afternoon. In a few hours the party in the Dragon's front yard will begin.

The day remains pleasant and sunny.

[Undómë]

The flowers were easily gathered. There were many little garden plots about the Green Dragon, all of which, Buttercup had kindly told her could be used for bouquets for the tables. In the Inn’s kitchen, she put the pretty blossoms together in colorful bunches and then into the vases she’d found in the basement.

‘Oh, the tables will look so nice!’ said Buttercup. ‘Here, let me help you take them out to the front yard.’ The Hobbit took an armful of tablecloths with her and soon the tables were all set up for the party.

‘Help me find the little lanterns, won’t you,’ asked Telu, following Buttercup back into the Inn.

The boxes of them were soon ferreted out of the cupboard beneath the stairs along with the candles to put in each lantern. The two women soon had them all ready to be used. ‘I’ll carry out the boxes,’ Telu offered. ‘Can you find us a step-stool so I can reach up into the branches of the trees and get them hung?’

Buttercup brought along the step-tool from the kitchen. With the Hobbit steadying it, Telu began to place the lanterns among the branches of the trees that lined the Inn’s front yard.

[Arry]

Best we get ourselves back to the Inn,’ said Gil, watching Halfred and his men go about the business of sussing out the culprit who’d stolen the goat carcass. He picked up his red cap from the ground and dusted it off against his breeches.

Tomlin and Ferrin ran back to where they’d dropped their instruments, saying they would meet the other two in the Dragon’s front yard. ‘We’ll leave them on the porch, near the little stage,’ Ferrin said as they turned to go. ‘Come in and tip a mug with us then. I’ll bet Cook will stand us each one round!’ he added. ‘Thirsty work, this guarding of the smokehouse,’ he laughed, winking at his companions.

Fallon and Gil took their time walking back to the Inn. An idea for a song was brewing in Gil’s head. He bounced the words off Fallon, who hummed a little tune he thought might accompany them.

[Valier]

After bringing more tables outside for the party that evening,Penn noticed the large horse tied to the post,thinking that this must be Naria's she smiled at the woman who was helping Farael move tables,and cautiously approached the Stallion with some dried berries she extracted from her pocket."Well hello you gorgeous animal you!"Penn exclaimed while the horse ate from her hand.Petting his mane,Penn looked around to see how the decorating was going,to see if she was still needed.

"I must remember to change my clothing before the party,I wonder if Naria has brought a change as well,I shall ask her if she would care to dress for the party with me so I can get to know her a little better and find out if she has any news from Rohan.For surely my Father is searching for me even now!

Saying her goodbye to the horse Penn approached Naria,asking the question of clothing for the party.Smiling at Farael Penn said "Sorry my good man but you know how us women can be, with clothing and all!I thought we could get ready together after we finish setting up.Would you be interested?Have you brought a gown?"Penn waited anxtiously for a reply.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Well, late doesn't matter.

Ariane wondered, though, where the time went when situations like these pressed in. She broke through her contemplation for a bit, grabbing a person off to the side and asking what was going on in her mildly accented voice, appeased after the answer and letting him go. Some sort of party, she hadn't caught exactly what it was for.

I always end up in places like these at the times of festivity, she thought wryly. It wasn't as if it mattered, anyway. A party might serve to get a few people abnormally drunk, make things a bit louder, whirl a bit of music about the stage and perhaps from the tabletops. It would be fun, she thouht, to join in sometime. It wasn't as if anyone was near enough to give her that painfully amused and all too patronizing look for being immature. Dancing had been fun... as a child.

But it was later afternoon. Ariane finally sat down with a bowl of some sort of beefy-like stew, an early supper for her. It was warm, at any rate, and smelt like some sort of domestic meat rather than the unknown outcroppings from some creatures that made you simply eat it with mental fingers crossed. The type of food you didn't want to ask what it contained.

It tasted tolerable. She wrinkled her nose. Perhaps a bit more salt... And innerly laughed. Who was she to speak—or even think. She thought she might be able to burn a salad if she tried.

[Folwren]

Tim was busy in stables. There had been another one or two horses brought in, and he had groomed, fed, and watered them. Afterwards, he made rounds about the other stalls, making sure that all of them had water and hay.

When that job was done, he went to look for Wren, to see what she was doing. She had come into the barn directly after him, some time ago, and he felt curious to see what she had been occupying her self with. He climbed the ladder to the loft and peaked over.

There sat his little sister, with a large, cat sitting in her lap. Her head was bent over him, and her little hands both restrained and stroked his damp fur.

"Where'd you get that thing?" Tim asked abruptly. Wren looked up for only a second and then looked back down at her new 'pet'.

"He was inn the kitchen. They were being awful to it, so they gave him to me, because they didn't want it."

"I dare say he'd caused some sort of havoc," Tim replied. Wren only shrugged and went on with her gentle caressing. Tim watched her only a moment longer and then went back down the ladder and towards the door.

Stepping out into the sunlight, he glanced around the Inn yard. Tables were being set up, and many sorts of people were helping do so. He thought hard for a minute, and then remembered clearly talk of a party that night. Then a clear light entered his face and he nodded to himself with a smile. The next moment, he noticed a very tall horse standing tied to a post just beside the road. The animal stood resting its left hind foot, and its eyes blinked calmly and sleepily in the warm afternoon sun. Tim's eyes lit up with admiration of the huge steed.

After only a moment, however, he remembered his job and he walked forward. He had to find the owner of the animal and ask if he should lead him to water and food. As he approached and came to where he could see on the other side of the horse, he saw a young lady stroking the stallions mane. He quickened his steps, but couldn't catch up to her before she'd turned away and gone to speak with another woman. Tim followed her and stopping beside her, he reached out tentitively and plucked her sleeve.

"If you please, ma'am, is that your horse?" he asked.

[Naria]

"Why no I haven't my own gown," Naria replied. For you see she was so excited when she left Rohan to find an apprentice that finding a party was not in her mind. She looked over at Penn and wondered if she had an extra dress that would fit. Naria was feeling a bit giddy at the thought of a party. She hadn't been to one since her departure from Rohan one year earlier. It had taken her more time than usual because her horse Flicker had fallen ill and needed some time to recover.

Taking her mind off of the goings on, Naria realized that Farael had not needed her assistance in awhile and wondered where he had gone. While she was scanning the crowd for him she couldn't help take notice of a small boy tugging on Penn's shirt. His attire looked to be of those from a stable boy(his clothing were similar to those worn by stable boys in Rohan). She bent around her horses neck and walked over to him. "Excuse me you must be the young lad that I'm needing." Naria knew that there was going to be quite a few people at the festivities and no one would want a big horse getting in the way. She took the horses guide rope then looked down at the boy and said "Could you please show me the way to the stables? For my horse is in need of food and water." Naria whispered settling swoons in Flicker's ear and waited for the stable boy to take them.

[Undómë]

Acting in concert, the Elf and the Hobbit soon had the little lanterns hung about the front yard. All had fresh new candles within, and they swayed prettily from the tree branches. The colored glass set into the sides of the lanterns caught the late afternoon sun and flashed spots of color here and there among the leaves. Telu watched them for a while, thinking how lovely the night would be when they were lit.

She glanced about the yard. The tables and chairs were all in place, it seemed. Across the distance she could see Men and Hobbits setting up the heavy trestles in which the ale for the party would be set. And if she were not mistaken, there was Farael. He and his companions had just tapped a keg and were ‘testing’ the contents within. There were smiles on their faces as they raised their mugs to each other.

Telu laughed as she walked back toward the doorway. ‘I hope he will be able to stand steady on his feet by this evening,’ she said to Buttercup as they mounted the steps to the porch. Buttercup looked to where the Elf pointed and raised her brows. ‘Better wear some thick boots, Telu,’ the Hobbit returned. ‘He might be stepping all over your feet with his.’ Buttercup looked down at her own bare feet and grinned. ‘Advantage there in not wearing shoes!’

The two passed into the common room. Buttercup had a few more duties in the kitchen before she could put on her party clothes. ‘Bring your dress and such to my room,’ she suggested to Telu. ‘that brother of yours sounds like he’s in a sour mood. Wouldn’t want to spoil yours for the fun tonight!’

With a light heart, Telu mounted the steps to her little room and began sorting through her dresses for the one she wanted to wear.

[Maeggaladiel]

Humming softly, Hallien pulled off the wide-brimmed red hat and combed a hand through her short brown hair. It was plastered against her skull, as she feared. Hat hair strikes once again, she thought to herself with a grim smile. Fluffing her tresses with her fingers, she placed the hat on the bar.

"Looks like there's some sort of fancy to-do going on outside, hmm?" she asked nobody in particular. "Well, I can't very well be caked with road dust inside and out, can I? Not with a party on the way! It's only proper I should get myself a drink to clear out the desert that's settled in my throat." She smiled and set her book on the bar near her hat. Grunting something to herself, she dug into one of the leather pouches hanging from her belt. A moment later, a handful of coins jingled musically in her palm.

She adjusted her glasses and squinted at the kegs behind the bar. Still smiling, she ordered "just a nip of some of that," pointing at one of the kegs.

"So," she began, asking anyone who happened to be nearby. "What's this party for, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"So..."

The voice cut through Ariane's mind. Not like a knife, because if it had cut through her mind like a knife, it would've left her ultimately dead as knives plus tissue never match particularly well together. So, simply, it cut through her mind. But it did cause the human to glance over her should at the newcomer, seeing nothing of real note beyond obvious hat hair adorning her head. At least, the signs of hat hair that had been hastily straightened out without any comb to completely do the job.

So she gave the stranger (not like the entire inn wasn't strange to her) a quick glance before shooting her stew a rueful stare. She didn't really want to stir from the meal. But she felt the automatic desire to reply to the quiry as it was. It was engrained in her mind from day one. Reply.

Don't stay silent when someone needs your help.

Only stay silent when you could hurt their feelings.

"What's this party for, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"

Ariane sighed, and stuck her spoon in the dish. "Y'know, I've been wondering the same thing myself," she said with a hint of a grin, praying her early dinner wouldn't grow too cold if she got any reply. "Any special occasion going on around here, or something of the like?"

[Farael]

With the help of the ladies of Rohan and some very nice hobbits, Farael finished up setting out a good share of tables. Then chairs had to be carried for the tables. After that, some help was needed to rearrange some things that had been set-out as they had mistakenly left them on the wrong place. At last, chairs and tables were set properly.

It had not been easy work and it had taken a good portion of the afternoon, so it was only logical -at least for Farael- to have a quick taste of the good ales that would be served that night. As the saying goes, a good drink can't be taken alone and after a few toasts for the health of the High King, the people of The Shire and (many) other things, Farael and the hobbits were feeling quite cheerful yet they all decided they did not want to get drunk before the party started, so each went to their rooms to get some rest and get ready for the night's event.

[Celuien]

"Oof! My, but that's heavy!" Robin staggered out of the Inn, burdened with a stack of chairs. It seemed that a few of the tables in the yard still lacked proper seating arrangements. Atop the seats was a precariously balanced tray of flowers in glass vases. He carefully set the chairs on the ground, transferred the flowers to an empty spot on a nearby table, and scurried about, putting the chairs in their proper places. Then came the flowers, one vase to each of the small tables, two each of the larger ones. Work finished, he went back inside to rest.

Entering the Inn, Robin heard several queries about the upcoming festivities. What's this party for, if I may be so bold as to inquire? Any special occasion going on around here, or something of the like? He walked up to the two strangers and bowed. "Robin Sandheaver, at your service. We're celebrating the generosity of Fordogrim's gift of casks of ale in his mug-stacking contest." Robin was too modest to mention his own role in the challenge. "I hope you will be joining us." He smiled. Turning to the bespectacled member of the pair, he said, "That's a lovely hat."

[Maeggaladiel]

"Robin Sandheaver, at your service. We're celebrating the generosity of Fordogrim's gift of casks of ale in his mug-stacking contest. I hope you will be joining us."" Hallien smiled at the woman who had inquired about the party.

"Sounds like a grand affair indeed, hmm?" she asked, grinning. "Well, I for one don't intend to miss it."

He smiled. Turning to the bespectacled member of the pair, he said, "That's a lovely hat."

Hallien laughed, looking at the hat in question.

"Why thank you, Mr. Sandheaver," she said. She beamed down at the faded hat. "It's seen its share of years, as you can probably tell. It's of a fine vintage." She patted it.

"Seems like it's going to be some party," she said jovially, looking out at the many tables and chairs. "Is there a need for more volunteers? Setting up and the like? If so, I'd be glad to enlist myself." She picked up the hat and touched it to her head, only to sweep it off in a theatrical bow. "Hallien Winterwood, at your service."

[nynnd1]

Bredan walked to the start of the path that led to the door of the Green Dragon. A big smile came across his face and he felt something inside him, he felt that he was home. Although of course he wasn’t, he had left Gondor and decided to come to the Shire almost two years ago. But the road was not a simple one, his horse had been killed when he had been attacked and robbed, but it was all right know. Thanks to lady Aman and Master Meriadoc.

Bredan had enjoyed his time with the Brandybuck, being able to help repair the stable for him, it was the least the Gondorian man could do for the lending of a horse. Bredan continued to smile as he walked up the path to the Inn, cheery hobbits organising chairs outside.

“Good day.” Bredan said to all.

As he pushed the door Bredan remembered when he had first entered, a confused angry man, but he felt different. He couldn’t help thinking it was because he had found his assailants and taken his possessions back, along with other things they had collected. Bredan had to kill two of them or he would no longer be here, but he took one back to Brandybuck hall where he was sent to jail.

Bredan walked up to the bar and run his hands over it as if he was searching for memories, but he did not need to search, the memories were fresh in his mind.

“I acted like an idiot.” He muttered under his breath.

Bredan looked up to see if he could get served, the young hobbit maid serving looked apprehensive about serving but came up anyway.

“What can I get you sir?” asked Ruby, standing a little further away than usual.

“You can let me apologise for my rude behaviour last time I inhabited this inn,” said the Gondorian man. “I can promise that I have changed.”

“That is ok we had all wondered where you had gone.”

The Gondorian man felt the kindness sweep all over him and smiled.

“If you would be kind enough to get me a cup of tea I will tell you when you are less busy.”

“That would be great said the young Hobbit lass.” And she ran to get the tea.

[Folwren]

Tim stood for a moment in awkward silence and then he shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"Oh, no, ma'am, that's not really necessary," he said, "I can't take him if you wish. That's my job, see? If you want, I could put him into an empty stall, unsaddle him, brush him down and give him oats or hay and definitely water, if you like. . .you don't have to take him yourself."

He half extended his hand towards the reins, waiting for the woman to make up her mind. "Of course," he said, after another very, very slight pause, "I could, as you said, show you the way. . ."

[Dunwen]

Testing the top of the freshly-baked cake with her hand, Widow Rosebank found it wasn’t quite cool enough to frost. It was a lovely cake, dark brown and slightly shiny on top, and smelled richly of the molasses, ginger and other spices used to flavor it. She had been surprised and touched when Miz Bunce permitted her to bake a treat for this evening. It was a great honor when a hobbit let someone cook in her (or his) kitchen. Chasing that varminty cat around the kitchen must have formed a kind of kinship between them, for the Widow had spent the entire rest of the afternoon helping the staff out. She smiled a little at the idea of telling her daughters in Bree that she’d spent part of her journey to the Shire cooking at an inn.

She thought the cake would be well-received this evening. The recipe was very popular among Bree-folk Big and Little, who described her as “near as good a cook as a hobbit.” The frosting was in a cloth-covered bowl at her elbow, waiting to be spread over the molasses cake. The Widow was surprised to notice that she was alone in the kitchen, at least for a moment. Deciding that she had earned a bit of rest, she soberly poured herself a cup of tea and sat down, careful to face the windows and the back door. If that Orc came back, she didn't want to have her back turned.

She hadn’t minded the excitement with the cat, but when that lass Ginger had popped in and told them there was a Orc on the premises, she’d nearly dropped her mixing bowl in terror. The hobbits had simply called for the Shirriffs as if Orcs were an ordinary problem, but the Widow took little comfort from this. She knew painfully well how horrible the creatures were. Just before the King had returned to his throne in Gondor, a party of Orcs, Goblins and even some wicked Men had killed several Bree-landers, including her own husband. She’d found her poor Pennyroyal butchered in his own field. Shuddering at the grisly memory, Widow Rosebank wondered how the hobbits could just go ahead with an outdoor party. Her Pen had been one of several Bree-landers attacked before the villains had been finally routed in the Battle of Bree. Besides her husband, she’d lost life-long friends and neighbors in that black time, all cruelly killed.

“Well, Ebba, brooding won’t help anything or anybody,” she whispered to herself. She got up and drained her mug, then checked the cake again. It was finally cool enough to frost. She uncovered the bowl of creamy, slightly tangy frosting, dipped in a knife and began to cover the sides and top of the molasses cake. As she methodically frosted, she wondered if she would find the nerve to step out of doors and join the party later.

Just as she finished, Buttercup the kitchen maid came bustling in. “This is finished,” said the widow, indicating the cake. “Is there a place Miz Bunce would want me to put it?”

Buttercup cheerfully assured the widow that she would take care of the cake while the widow went upstairs to clean up and get ready for the party. Widow Rosebank, although still undecided, thought she could at least wash up after her afternoon’s work. Thanking Buttercup warmly, she left the kitchen and went up to her room.

[Naria]

"Of course you may take my horse too the stables," Naria said to the stable boy a little embarrassed. For you see she was used to doing everything on her own that it just came naturally to her to tend to her own steeds needs.

Meanwhile, Penn had stayed close by and desperately wanted to get the both of them dressed for the party. Naria followed her up to her room were Penn had already had some dresses put out on the bed. Since Naria's hair was so dark and had eyes to match, she of course chose a brilliant fuschia gown. Naria slipped the dress over her head and pulled the bustle down over her front. She looked at Penn and requested some help with the hooks that were in the back. After all of the hooks were latched together and the rest of the gown was straightened, Naria felt quite pretty as she twirled around for Penn. Naria looked around the room and found a thin leather strap and wound it around her hair pulling it away from her face. Since Naria felt that her transformation was complete she sat on the bed and wondered what dress Penn would choose.

Waiting for Penn to get dressed Naria found herself daydreaming about her travels and how exciting it would be too finally have someone to be with her to share her experiences. She also thought to herself, where and whom would want to take on an apprenticeship.

[Folwren]

Having taken the horse into the barn and stabled him, Tim gave him food and water and then went on to grooming him. He was done in time, and checking once more the manger full of hay, he left the stallion in peace. He was latching the stall door behind him when he heard someone enter the barn. He looked up and was surprised to see his sister, who he thought was still in the loft.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"I took that cat down the road a bit and set him off. Cook said that I needed to take him some way from here." Tim nodded and turned to go on to another job, but Wren trotted up to his side. "Did you know there's a party today? It's getting almost time!" She spoke excitedly, quite unaware of Tim's sour mood towards her. . .still. "And Ginger's found a dress for me and I'm about to go in and see if I can help with anything!"

"Yes, you do that," Tim said, anxious that she should leave before she took it in her head to explain the said dress. "But for goodness' sakes, don't get in anyone's way!" Wren scampered off with a very sure 'Oh, I won't!' and disapeared through the bright, sunlit doorway.

She ran across the inn yard and walked into the kitchen. The door was propped open, allowing the fresh breeze and air flow into the heated kitchen. Buttercup was the only one there, working at the counter with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hands working deftly over what appeared to be some sort of cookie dough. Wren approached her.

"Is there anything I can do to help, do you think?" she asked. Buttercup looked down, and her brown eyes twinkled. She pushed a stray strand of her brown hair back behind her ear with her floured hands.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably. Here's Ginger - ask her." She nodded towards the hobbit who'd just arrived through the door.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger and Wren lend a hand

‘Are you sure you don’t need any help with those cookies?’ Ginger watched as Buttercup floured the rolling pin and began to roll out the dough. She’d gotten Cook’s special star shaped cookie cutter down from the wall, and mixed up a bowl of sugar and cinnamon to sprinkle on the cookies as they baked.

‘No, I’ll be fine,’ Buttercup said. She stopped for a moment and pursed her lips. ‘Now that I think of it, there is one thing you can finish up.’ She pointed to the small basket of lemons the merchant from bree had left several days ago. ‘Cook wants to have some drinks for them that can’t or don’t want ale or hard cider and such. Ruby’s got pitchers of plain cider sitting in the cooler. Can you and Wren make the lemonade?’ She nodded her head toward the canister of sugar she’d set out on the table. ‘The sugar’s there. And in the pantry are some early strawberries to make it look pretty. Except for the cookies here, that’s about the last thing left.’

Ginger got out the lemon squeezer and bolted it to the edge of the table. She set Wren on a stool by the table, a cutting board in front of her and a small paring knife in her hand. ‘Just be careful and pluck off the leaves from the strawberries then slice them into nice thick pieces. Here, here’s a bowl to put them in. I’ll juice the lemons while you’re doing that . . .’

[Folwren]

Wren tucked her legs up under her and carefully sliced the strawberries. She cut around the leaves, taking out as little fruit as possible, as her own mother had shown her long before, and then did the slicing just as Ginger had asked, and placed each piece gently in the bowl.

“When does the party start, Ginger?” she asked after a long stretch of silence. “Is it going to be soon?” Ginger nodded in reply, but made no verbal answer as she put her strength into getting all the juice possible out of the lemon. Wren tilted her head sideways as she continued her work. “I think it’s going to be lots of fun, don’t you? Can Tim and I stay up late until it’s all over, do you think?”

She went on with her cutting, waiting in contented silence until Ginger had time to answer her. The hobbit finish squeezing that particular lemon and added it’s rind to the pile of others before pouring the juice into a pitcher. Wren looked up as she finished, hoping for a positive answer to her question.

[Thinlómien]

Brith's curiousness had won her tiredness, and after resting a while she had gone riding to explore the little village better. She had started to appreciate this little, careless and hard-working folk. They amazed her more every time she spoke with them. She had bought some food and eaten in a little park.

Now she returned to the inn. First she wanted to find a place for her horse, so she went to the stables to find someone who could care for her horse.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger’s arm was aching from all the lemons she’d squeezed. She was happy to stop and give some consideration to Wren’s question. ‘Hmmm . . .well, from what I saw outside in the front yard all the tables and benches are in place, the kegs are there, and that little place near the verandah where Gil and his friends play music is ready.’ She looked over to the big stove where the ovens held pans of roasted chicken and taters.

‘I think we should sugar up this lemon juice and stir in the strawberries, and get it poured into pitchers. Then let’s go get dressed. What do you say to that? Seems like the only thing really left to do is to bring out the food when it’s ready, and we can run in and help with that.’ She shivered in anticipation of seeing her Ferdy this evening and dancing with him.

Ginger washed up her hands and poured in the sugar for Wren to stir. It was Wren who stirred in the cut up strawberries, turning the lemonade a lovely pinkish color. They both got out the serving pitchers, and lining them up along the counter, they dipped big ladles into the lemonade and filled up the pitchers in no time.

‘Cmon!’ said Ginger, as they put the last of the pitchers in the cooler. Let’s go up to my room and get dressed . . .

[piosenniel]

***** Notice of time moving forward in the Inn *****

The party is just starting.

It's now early evening; the sun is low on the western horizon, giving a soft light as the party in the Inn's front yard begins.

All the decorations are now up, the tables all decked with flowers, and chairs are scattered about for those who want to sit and relax and drink the good ale Master Fordogrim has supplied. Several of the tables groan with food from the Inn's kitchens. Roast chicken with taters, baskets of rolls, pots of sweet cream butter. Cookies, cakes, lemonade, cider, wine . . . and all in enough abundance to satisfy the hungriest and thirstiest of Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, or Men.

There is a large area cleared in front of the little stage just off the verandah where Gil and his little band are setting up.

Down from their rooms and down the path from the roadway come the merry party-goers to eat and drink and talk and laugh and dance the moon down . . .

[Arry]

‘Look there,’ said Ferrin, rapping out a quick rhythm on his hand drum. ‘Isn’t that the girl that kissed Gil this morning and got him all a-bother?’

Fallon tucked his fiddle beneath his chin and tuned the strings as he looked across the yard to where the roadway met the path to the inn. ‘Yes, to be sure, and there’s the rest of her companions all come back now for the party.’ He smiled and winked at his brother. ‘And do you think she’ll be singing a song or two with us,’ he went on, nodding at Gil, who had glimpsed the woman, Rowan, and now stood watching her.

Tomlin likewise had picked up his fiddle and begun to get in tune with Fallon. His brow raised as he took in the seemingly entranced leader of their group. He was about to make a barbed remark of his own, when Gil stepped to the fore of their little stage by the verandah and began to tap his right foot in a quick, attention grabbing rhythm. His clear, tenor voice rang out across the noise of those just gathering for the party. Tomlin began to pick the tune out with his bow, but Fallon stayed his arm. ‘Nay, let him sing along. We’ll see if the wee bird is ensnared by one song . . . or will she make him work for her company.’

The three stepped back and leaned against the porch railing, amused to the man at their friend’s dilemma . . .

One morn in May the fields were gay
Serene and pleasant was the weather
I spied a lass and a very bonny lass
She was scoopin dew in among the heather
Down the moor

In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
I spied a lass and a very bonny lass
She was scoopin dew in among the heather
Down the moor

Barefooted was she, she was comely dressed
and on her head neither cap nor feather
But the plaid hung neatly about her waist
As she tripped through the bloomin heather
Down the moor

In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
But a plaid hung neatly about her waist
As she tripped through the bloomin heather
Down the moor

I stepped up to this fair maid
Tell me your name what brings you hither
And she answered me down by the bonny Bann-side
And I'm herding all my ewes together
Down the moor

In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
And she answered me down by the bonny Bann-side
I'm herding all my ewes together
Down the moor

I courted her that lee-long day and
me heart was light as any feather
Until the beams of the red setting sun came
shining down in among the heather
Down the moor

In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
Until the beams of the red setting sun came
shining down in among the heather
Down the moor

She said young man, I must away
For my ewes are straying from each other
But I'm loath for to part from you as the bonnie
wee lamb is to part their mother
Down the moor

In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
But I'm as loath to part from you as the bonnie
wee lambs as to part their mother
Down the moor

So up she got and away she went and her
place and her name I cannot gather
But if I were king, I would make her a queen
The bonny lass I met among the heather
Down the moor

In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
But if I were king, I would make her queen
The bonny wee lass I met among the heather
Down the moor . . .

[Undómë]

‘Are you coming, Tindo?’ Telu knocked softly at her brother’s door. Her question, repeated once again was met with silence. ‘Stay angry, then,’ she said. And gave as a parting shot, ‘Stuffed shirt!!’ If I’m to be packed off to the Havens tomorrow, then I will at least enjoy myself tonight.

She started for the stairs at a quick pace, wanting to put as much physical distance as she could manage beween herself and Tindo. Why must he be so cautious, so conventional! Telu pause for a moment, catching her breath, giving her angry red cheeks time to recede to a fairer color.

Telu tucked a strand of long dark hair behind her ear and adjusted the slender silver fillet that sat high on her brow. It bore a small light green stone that sparkled merrily as the light caught it. She smoothed the skirt of her leaf green dress. Caught in the moment, she twirled, pleased how the skirt swirled easily with her movements and how the sheer material of her long sleeves fluttered as she moved.

The common room was nearly empty as she crossed it. A few old codgers sat huddled near the fire with their ales, but most of the patrons were heading out the door to the inn’s front yard. Telu joined the crowd and found herself in the midst of a number of Hobbits spilling out onto the lawn.

Everything looked so pretty! And there, to her left, a young man Hobbit was singing a lovely song.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Ah, well, it's not as if I really expected people to notice me anyway, Ariane thought, a wry expression at the thought that normally she had thought it was her abnormal height (at least, so it had seemed) that drew the lack of attention.

She was an attention-getter, a bit of a melodramatic reactor, to be truthful. But at the moment, she hardly cared, simply letting the preparations for the party sweep around her as if she were only some decoration in the inn, someone only a mere decoration flickering over the wall. The day had passed swiftly, and she had finally chosen to move, sitting down on a chair off against the wall, and staring thoughtfully at the tables covered in food.

To be honest, the Calthye woman didn't feel much like partying. She had never learned to dance, as strange as it seemed for a human to lack that knowledge. And if I try drinking, I'll fall over. Just watch... So she sat back to consider the present scene, and wonder, just wonder...

I miss you, Kyrie. All too much.

So Ariane let herself try fade away and just watched the others for a while, wondering what would happen, or whether she could step out of her little nitch and consider doing anything. The music was nice, at any rate. She thought they could've been a bit louder, but it wasn't as if there was any way to change that, the wooden walls swallowing the sound with a fair lack of proper accostics.

[Farael]

...In among the heather, o'er the moor
and through the heather
But if I were king, I would make her queen
The bonny wee lass I met among the heather
Down the moor . . .

Such a beautiful song and a really nice voice singing it were not quite helping Farael's feeling of lonelyness. While he had kept himself busy during most of the afteroon, he was now standing by himself, dressed in his best clothes. Far from the soldier garments he had worn during the day, the only clue about his Gondorian descent was a little brooch in the shape of a white tree. He had hoped Telu, his newly met elven friend, would appreciate the change, yet she was nowhere to be seen.

Although the wide open space was slowly filling up with all sorts of individuals, Farael towered over most of them, just because he was rather tall for a human and most people -yes, they might not be human but they are still people he reminded himself - were much shorter than him. As the song was winding down and many of the listeners clapped their hands, congratulating the singer, he saw her at last. Telu was all the way across the place, closer to the door while he was standing fairly close to where the band was now playing. He smiled at her, hoping she would look over to where he stood and waited. Farael was not sure his waiting was out of shyness, not wanting to force himself into Telu's company or fear of her older brother. Maybe it was a little of all.

[Valier]

After helping Naria get fitted into her gown, Penn chose a brilliant blue flowing gown for herself,with a matching ribbon for her hair. Smiling at Naria, Penn felt it was her turn to twirl. She giggled at how girly the two young women were being about their dressing up.

Penn tucked the worn bag she always kept at her side under the covers of her bed.Hopefully the two rascals inside would stay put for the evening.Looking toward Naria she appeared to be deep in thought. " Would you like to go? I hear the music starting." They shut the door behind them and proceeded towards the commonroom, then out the Inn's front door.

The front yard was beautifully decorated with lanterns and other fair things.Penn sighed at the simple beauty of the place she was standing in.

Penn looked around to see many new faces,and one she knew.Farael was standing alone with a look of longing on his face.At that moment Penn did not want to disturb him so she looked around for the two gentalmenly Dwarves she had met earlier. She could not pick them out of the crowd,as of yet so in turn she looked for the man with the striking blue eyes.He was no where to be seen either.Penn decided to get an ale and wait for her friends return.

[Maeggaladiel]

"Ah!" said Hallien as the music drifted inside the inn. "And so it begins!"

Finishing her drink, she hefted the stringed instrument across her back, tucked the book under her arm, secured her hat on her head, and strolled outside. It was a beautiful evening; the perfect weather for a party under the open skies. Humming, she pulled out a char and seated herself.

[nynnd1]

Bredan went out to join the party after sitting in the common room for a couple of hours, resting after his journey, Bredan had not been as relaxed for ages. As he sat there it was as if the Gondorian man was being called by the music of the party outside.

Bredan put his large bag in the backroom by the kind permission of the Hobbit lass and walked out of the door, there he was greeted by dozens of smiling faces all enjoying the party.

“My first party at the Green Dragon.” Bredan said as he looked around the party, he was mainly looking for Lady Aman, he had wanted to say thanks since he arrived back. Bredan noticed someone that looked familiar, he was a few inches higher than anyone else at the party and looked like he was alone. Bredan trawled through his memory to see if it was best to avoid this man but could not place him, the Gondorian concluded that he could not be that bad if he was not completely in the memories of Bredan.

Bredan collected two jugs of ale and walked over to the man,

“I wondered if you wanted to have a jug with me.” Bredan said, pushing forward one of the jugs and looking into the eyes of the other man, still seeing if he noticed him. It was then Bredan got a clue about where he may have recognised the man.

“Am I to guess that you are from the White City too?” Bredan said as he noticed the brooch of a white tree. “I am Bredan of Gondor, and pleased to meet you if you are Gondorian or not.”

Farael smiled at Bredan, and took the jug of ale.

[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.

[Farael]

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?...

Farael chuckled, as he noticed his mug was empty. "No Sir, I'm afraid I will not get any more ale for the time being. I have had plenty and I would not want to force any of these hobbitses to pull me to my room if I drink too much. But I'll walk with you and get some of that lemonade. I've heard it's almost as good as the ale." They headed to one of the big tables on the side and helped themselves to more drinks. "I guess we have more in common than what I thought, Master Bredan, as I was coming here with some of my father's fellow merchants when I left them following a trail that I believed was made by orcs." His face hardened, his disgust for those creatures obvious. "The trail lead me no-where, but when I caught up with the rest of the merchants they had been assaulted. By men, not orcs. They went back to the white city, I went into the forests to find the bandits yet I had no luck. Nor I met anyone as important... what is Master Meriadoc like? I've heard he is a very smart ma... hobbit."

Farael looked up and saw Telu talking to another elf, he nodded although Bredan could not see what he was nodding at. "I have not a story about love to tell, but I am sorry you had to escape the white city for a woman..." He looked away, and added almost for himself "... most of them are not worth it"