The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

It is noon-time at the Green Dragon Inn. Lunch is being served, The fragrant scent of lamb stew is in the air, accompanied by the tantalizing aroma of blackberry tart.

The day is proving to be a fair one so far . . . no clouds on the horizon as yet.

[Lalwendë]

Jinniver’s pale eyes had widened with fear when she heard Andwise mention the tale she had heard related in the inn on the previous evening. She had almost thought to herself that this tale had been a mere horror story, but from what Andwise said, it was plainly true. She kept hold of her knife, remembering the black dagger of the tale. Wherever this Annuminas was, it was too close for comfort. She told herself to be sure to include in her message a note to her father to remember to lock the kitchen door at bedtime.

She was shaken from her thoughts by the teasing of the hobbit lasses and welcomed the chance to giggle along with them, laughing aloud when Derufin was given a white handkerchief by one of the hobbit lads. Spotting the remains of the blackberry tart, she took another small helping for herself and listened as Derufin became serious once more.

‘Safe enough, I think. Though, as with anything as ever has been touched with shadow, it’s best to err on the side of caution.’ Jinniver nodded at what Derufin had to say. Nowhere, she thought, was this more true than in Bree.

“After those black riders had terrorised the Pony, I was been forbidden from going there alone. Certain…men…had already come to Bree, “she said haltingly, choosing her words carefully. “And they had gained our trust, difficult as that is with a Breelander. But we did not see that they were touched with shadow. And we were not cautious. It is all as the result of shadow that you see me here today.”

Jinniver gulped down a spoonful of the tart and had to wash it down with cider so she did not choke. Trying to steel herself after her awkward speech, she urgently said “But I hope there is no shadow on me. You don’t think that? Do you?”

[Envinyatar]

“But I hope there is no shadow on me. You don’t think that? Do you?”

‘To be quite honest, for I see you ask that question in all earnestness, I cannot say one way or the other. I have not known you long or seen you often enough in your commerce with others.’ He leaned back in his chair, thoughtful as he looked at her. ‘You appear fair and your speech seems forthright. But appearances can deceive even the wisest of men. And I am far from wise.’ He looked consideringly at her, noting she did not flinch under his gaze. ‘I’m one to accept you at first meeting,’ he went on. ‘I’ll assume from the first that you are as you present yourself . . . I prefer to give you that chance. And from then on, either your actions will bear that out or they will show your true nature.’

Derufin pulled the pot of fireweed honey that had been left on the table near the teapot to him, helping himself to a generous spoonful of the sweet stuff for his own mug of tea. The sound of his spoon clinking against the sides of his mug as he stirred the honey in was loud in the quiet pause.

‘In some way, we all have some shadow on us,’ he said in a soft voice. ‘Or so I’ve come to believe. It’s how we handle the temptation the shadowy part of us is heir to that proves our mettle.’ He sipped at his tea as he considered his next words. ‘I should like to think that someone who works with the growing of plants, whose fingers sink deep into the dirt to help it bring forth the beauty of flowers . . . that this sort of someone is one to be relied on for their firmness of character, their integrity.’ He nodded toward Andwise. ‘As is someone whose hands craft wood or other materials with great skill and care . . .’ Derufin laughed, recalling the oft time criticism of his more cautious acquaintances. ‘Some say it is my folly . . . but I say it puts the burden where it belongs . . . on the other to show me the rightness of my trust by their actions.’

‘What “I” think is really of little importance . . . what you “do”, is . . .’

Derufin's chair scraped back from the table, and he stood up, offering her his hand in assistance. ‘But enough of this grave conversation!’ he grinned, blowing away the previous weighty words with a laugh. ‘What do you say we walk back to the cottage – you and Andwise and I? Have a look-see at the flowerbeds. See what you want to do with them. We have about six days to get things in order. And Master Proudfoot has offered the services of his two grandsons for the digging up of things and any heavy work you require. I’ll get Aman to set you up with a room in the Inn as a worker; Cook will see to it that your meals are provided.’

‘I am curious,’ he said as they ambled back toward the cottage. ‘Curious about something you said – “But we did not see that they were touched with shadow. And we were not cautious. It is all as the result of shadow that you see me here today.” What did you mean by this?’

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal and Arty walked in to the Green Dragon, bothing hoping to see familiar faces after the long journey to and from Rohan. Crystal smiled as she saw Adu over by the fire. She went over and sat down in the chair across from her. Arty grabbed one of the chairs nearby and brought it forward.

"I had wondered why no one could find you to invite you to our wedding. You're looking for Hama aren't you?" Crystal said, catching her friend's attention.

Hama had been invited as well, but he had been too busy to come. They had been told that he was travelling somewhere. Crystal had only believed it would be to the Shire, but she hadn't been entirely sure.

"It is good to see you, Adu. How have you been?" Arty asked, smiling at her gently, remembering how she had just got up and left during the reunion some months back.

[Witch_Queen]

"I've been good. I'm glad to see you. Hama is suppose to be on his way." Adu told them about her journey to Rivendell and how she didn't see Hama at all. "I have missed Hama the past few days. Count was exhausted when we arrived. The journey was too long for him, not to mention for me.I'm not as young as I use to be." Adu began to laugh. It seemed like forever since she had someone to talk to. Finally she had Crystal and Arty to be with while Hama was still away. There is only one thing I fear. Please dont' let Hama be hurt. Adu's smile disappeared and her gray eyes looked cold.

Adu began to think of all the possible reasons why Hama was no where to be seen. Could he be hurt? What if he needs help and no one is there for him? Oh Adu quit being such a worry-wart. He's going to be ok. He's a big boy. Realizing that she had missed out on part of the conversation Adu blinked her eyes and came back to the "real" world. "Sorry about that. So I hope the wedding was lovely. Crystal you should still be careful. On the way I over heard some of your fathers still faithfull companions. Your still in danger my child." Adu recalled how her discussion with her fathers companions went. How she told them Crystal was dead and not to worry about her "ruining" her fathers name.

"Luckily, I told them that I "took care of you". Those scum would believe anything. Then they heard from someone about your wedding. Oh well to bad for them." Adu stopped there,she wasn't going to talk about it anymore. "Crystal your still in danger even if you don't know it. There is always some one out there that blames you for the death of your father."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

At that moment, an elf came into the inn. Little heed was taken of him as he walked briskly over to the bar and ordered a strong ale. When the drink was received he paid the bar tender with many gold coins, then, walking like one who has had many toils and wishes for rest, he made his way over to a small table and sat at it. He was kind of face, grey eyed, brown hair and wearing ranger like clothes. One looked at him and thought he looked well travelled, so to speak. He wore a long black hooded cloak, a sheath of odd make and a dark green tunic. On his feet were sturdy boots and on his back, a large pack laden with many things. His name was Fáinu, which is "Released" in the Qenta tong. In his left hand he held the mug of ale, but his right hand had an old bandage on it.

Always Fáinu was rather quiet, often keeping himself to himself, but would converse if approached, or it is a topic that interest or concerns him. However, most of all he enjoys jests if no one is offended.

In the past he has sometimes grown angered and heedless of peril and gone in strife with another, even if he/she was say a dragon and he would surly perish. Once upon a time he mad put down weapons when a friend and lord was grievously heart.

He was born in the year 1520 III, Dwelt in Rivendell for much of his young life, before becoming a scout and befriending many Rangers and often going abroad alone or in a small company on an errand or no. Both parents died in 2770 when Smaug descended on Erebor, destroying it and the neighbouring town of Dale as they were visiting at that time. Fáinu escaped barely by leaping into the river and hiding. Ever after regret eats his heart, but he hides it well. Leaving Dale when it was safe he came to the woodland realm and found the aid of the wood elves. Fáinu was not his right name, but he uses it thinking it more fitting, when he came back to Rivendell none recognised him, for much toil had come upon him and he named himself Fáinu and only Elrond and others with powers of perception saw in him his right name, but he bid them not speak it. His name of old was, Mánstarmin, "one who helps", and he thought it unfit.

Sitting at the table he peered into his mug and said nought. Soon he looked up and saw that many people were merrily drinking and having generally an enjoyable time, he smiled and sipped his drink.

[Lalwendë]

Derufin’s words had been wise and Jinniver gained comfort from them. She had long thought that she had been touched by shadow, tainted by the past, but as he said, it was how a person acted that was the true test, and she had strived every day to be one of the good people.

On their way to inspect the flowerbeds, Derufin asked Jinniver what her halting speech about shadow had meant. She felt comfortable enough with her two new companions to say a little more, but she kept her head down all the same. It was still a painful memory and it was not so long ago.

“Before the Black Riders came, men came to Bree. They were not unlike us, though their manner of dress was somewhat foreign. At first, we avoided them, but soon we saw they wanted work, and lodging, and that they meant to stay. My father took on one young man as a hand on the farm and he became a friend to us, so much so that though I was young, we were betrothed quite soon. I was a silly thing, always dancing and singing. My head was full of dreams.

“My father said, and I thank the stars that he did this, that we must wait until we were both older before we were married. About that time the Riders passed through, and not long after came more men. My betrothed, he started to give me many gifts, urging me to go away and marry him. Something in me made me tell my brother about this, who told my father of course, and he turned out this…man” Jinniver did not want to say his name, that would be too much. “I did not see him again for some weeks.”

“One night, in the middle of the winter, myself and my father were woken by a gang shouting outside our farmhouse. They had flaming torches, and clubs, and they were brutish and drunken. I knew who they were, he was among them. ‘We are the masters now’ they shouted. ‘If you won’t give us this land then we are taking it’. My father, he came out in a fury. ‘Get you gone you ruffians!’ he shouted, and he made a run at them. He was still a lithe man at that time, but they were too many for him. They overpowered him, and had a knife at his throat, so out I came, grabbing the first thing I could find, my old hoe. I ran and took hold of the first man I could catch, throwing him to the ground. It was the man I had been going to marry.”

They had arrived at the cottage and Jinniver stopped a moment to look about her. This was a tale she did not like to think of, but it had still haunted her dreams ever since. It was a vivid tale to her, and her blood ran cold as she told it. She looked up and straight at Derufin and Andwise, fire in her eyes.

“I was shocked but I kept him pinned to the floor, his arms trapped under him. ’Release my father or this man dies’ I said. Of course they scoffed, so I swung the hoe about me using all the strength I had. Sharpened to a knife point it was, and I soon cut one of the men. He yowled like a dog, and they all shrank back into the darkness, dropping their weapons. I sat there until their voices had retreated far away. The man I had been going to marry, he had gone limp and lifeless and I tied his hands behind his back.

“My father and I, we left him in the road and packed all we could into our cart and rode into Bree as fast as we could go. And there we stayed through the winter while our farm was occupied. I saw the fight, and all those men were involved, but I did not see…him. When all was right again, and we returned to the farm, we found our crops spoiled and our nursery destroyed, and I forgot all about any dreams I might have had and set to work. I had to make amends, and that is why you see me here today. To earn a little more, that I might be able to give my old dad the retirement he deserves, and that he’d have had a long time ago, were it not for me being a silly girl.”

Jinniver looked away, and knelt to examine the old flowerbeds, gently handling a long forgotten rose which was struggling through the weeds. “This simple flower is worth more than dreams.” She sighed with relief and looked up, smiling at Andwise and Derufin. “That’s enough of dark and dramatic tales. You can be sure I will make you a fine little garden. I can already see what will flourish here, and that this will be a fair place.”

[Nurumaiel]

'Bah,' said Marcho, after a brief pause had commenced. His eyes travelled the Common Room critically, and disapproval was written all over his face. His voice was particularly harsh, and it was enough to make even Blanco turn towards him surprise. 'Bah?' that neat and bold lad repeated.

'Yes,' said Marcho. 'What is the Shire coming to? Look, do you see all the Elves? And the Men? Do you see any Hobbits?'

'Yes,' said Blanco, more than a little surprised. 'I see you, Marcho, and I see Bingo, and Peony, and...'

Marcho interrupted him with a growl, but Peony smiled in a gentle way. 'Don't you think, Marcho, that most hobbits adore to see Elves and Men in the Inn? This is one of the only places in the Shire they can be seen; I am full of wonderment at the sight of the Fair Folk. And to see the Elves, Men, and Hobbits speak with each other, in such a companiable way! Does it not strike you as sweet?'

'You strike me as sweet, Peony,' said Blanco, smiling fondly at his sister. Marcho said nothing but he grunted his lasting disapproval. Conversation once again drifted away, and in silence they waited for the return of Lily and Posco. Blanco was beginning to fidget restlessly in his chair.

[Primrose Bolger]

Her kitchen duties were done for the moment, or at least until Cook noticed she’d gone off for a look about the Inn and called her back. Ginger Gamwich wandered out into the Common Room and nosed about here and there. Listening in a bit on conversations, watching the curious folk who had come to the Green Dragon that day.

A brown haired Elf sat at a table holding a drink in his hand. He’d thrown his black cape over the table and sipped from his mug as he looked about the room. At another table three Hobbits glanced about the Common Room, two of them with smiles on their faces and one with a quite disapproving look. I wonder what that’s all about? she thought to herself as she crossed the room and went out doors.

The day was lovely. Ginger picked a daisy from the bush at the base of the porch steps and tucked it behind her ear. The pretty, star-shaped flower was nestled in, in a fetching way, among her red curls. Following the little pebbled path around to the back of the Inn, she arrived just in time to see some of the servers clearing away a table that had been set up in the shade of the oak tree. Some of the fellows seated at table had already gotten up, among them was Derufin, whom she’d met earlier, walking along with a woman she did not recognize.

Oh, and there just getting up from the table was someone she knew. Mister Banks, it was. Andwise Banks. Ginger stepped toward him, waving as he noticed her . . .

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Peering about the room, Fáinu saw upon the wall a picture of a Dragon and was filled with sadness. He looked at his right hand and moved the fingers, looking again into his mug again he began to think back to the day when Smaug had attacked. But thence he heard the sound of laughter, a joke had been told at a nearby table and the roars of laughter startled him.

Over by the fire Fáinu saw another sitting alone. It was Aduthondiel, and he thought he had spent too long alone, and so went to greet here. Slowly he got up and drained his mug, but there was a bitter taste in it and he shook his head. Going to the fire he pulled up a chair.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, Aduthondiel made not answer but put out her arm in a gesture of acceptance. “I tire of being alone, and wish for converse.”
Fáinu looked about the room and saw that a few hobbits were looking curiously at him and so quickly he turned back to Aduthondiel.

"Greetings, I am Fáinu, and I have come from Imaladris." he said sitting down, "Whom, prey, art thou?"
He placed his pack under the chair and sat back, the fire was warm, but often he looked away from it, as there was a fear in his heart and the screams of Dale oft came to haunt him.

[Saurreg]

“Have you seen much of the Shire since your arrival?” enquired Gwenneth. Her voice was soft and elegant, yet timbre rich at the same time. It was as rich as the finest of silks.

Ascasir swallowed the contains in his mouth quickly and replied in haste,

"Nay, milady. I have not,"

Ascasir placed his spoon down on the knot-filled wooden table, picked up a piece of napkin and dabbed his lips gingerly. He then turned his head towards the Sindar and continued to talk with steely grey eyes fixed intently on her,

"I crossed the Isen and entered Enewaith but just five nights ago. From there I made a pilgrimage to Lond Daer and tarried yonder for two days, marveling at the stoneworks of the men of old. I then continued my journey north crossing Gwathló the Mighty, and transversed the wide green plains of Minhirath where the tall grass danced to the breath of Manwë; that part of my journey costed me another two days worth of travelling time. It was only last night that I entered the land of the Periannath and now, here I am."

Ascasir Culcollo ended with a slight melodramatic bow, meant to tease the beautiful elven maiden. He picked up his mug of tea and took a long sip.

[Witch_Queen]

"I am Aduthondiel, my last name I can't even remember. You may call me Adu. Everyone else does." Adu looked over to the table of hobbits. "Disgusting little critters aren't they. Oh well they have yet to harm any let them live." Adu's words were cold, colder perhaps than she had first meant them. It had been so long since she had talked with an elf. She mostly talked with Crystal, Arty and Hama when he was around. "Forgive me. I am not very good company right now."

Adu heard a familar sound as the large white crow landed on her shoulder. "Well good evening Avalon. Where might Cree be?" Adu turned around and saw Cree walked through the front door. Suddenly the pressure on her shoulder was released. Avalon gave her greeting and then left Adu and Fáinu. "Imaladris? Oh I remember my last time journeying through Imaladris. So what brings you to the Shire, Fáinu?" Adu smiled and finally set back in her chair. The fireplace gave her the feeling of being back in Rohan.

Adu leaned forward in her chair as she took a sip of her ale. She remembered the last ale she had drank was before she left the Green Dragon. Yet even now she still couldn't get use to the last mouthful and the stinging it made in the back of her throat.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Lifting his head, Fáinu took heed of that Adu was saying. He thought back to the last time he was in Imladris, that was a fair memory, as it was the place of his childhood, but now it was seldom full of bliss since Elrond left.

"I was sent to the havens with a message for Cirdan," he said to Adu, "Now my errand is complete, I came here to see if the tales are true. They do say that the Shire folk are a kind breed whom offer aid. So far I have found little but scorn and distrust."

Fáinu looked into Adu's eyes and saw some sorrow, or regret of he knew not what. A hobbit walked to the fire and put a kettle over it and then walked back to the kitchen, as he did this, he had given a queer look at Fáinu. Laughter and the sound of merriment was in abundance, yet this did not cheer Fáinu, the name of the inn and the images of dragons gave him unpleasant thoughts.

"Have you ever seen the fair valley of rivendel?" He asked breaking the silence and looking up once more, "Not many visit these days, Elrond used to be a most respectable host, and now he is gone, few see it as refuge. Indeed I have hear that the same is said of Lorien since the white lady left, if the stories are true."

Fáinu peered around the room and saw many Hobbits who had suddenly taken an interest in him. Fáinu looked at one who was whispering something to another and had an ill favoured look.

[Arry]

Tomlin, Fallon, Gil, and Ferrin had gotten up from the table and were in the process of ambling back to the cottage worksite. Ferdy hailed them with a ‘Wait up, you lot!’ and ran to catch up with them. Tomlin turned round to see who had called to them, a grin spreading on his face as he spied Andwise, still standing by the table. ‘Well, Ferdy! Look who your Da is talking to!’

The entire group, including Ferdy, halted and looked back. There was Mister Banks listening to some Hobbit lass. Blue dress and bright red curls . . . a familiar smile on her face . . . it was Ginger! A flush crept slowly up Ferdy’s neck, not unnoticed by his companions.

‘Know who Ferdy’ll be dancing with at the party, don’t we?’ chided Fallon in a good-natured way. ‘Wouldn’t mind a dance with her myself,’ he mumbled to himself. A small glare from Ferdy elicited a hasty retraction of the statement.

Gil smoothed things over between the two, and offered up his ideas for who his ideal dance partners would be – Lily and Sandy, he thought, and perhaps a dance with Primrose, if she’d have it. And if not, then Rowan or Blossom or both would do nicely for a spin about the floor. ‘Little cock-a-hoop!’ cried Ferrin. ‘You mean to have all the pretty lasses under your spell!’ Tomlin and Fallon joined in with their short list and soon the fair points of all the lasses in Bywater and Hobbiton were being discussed.

‘Ahem!’ The sound startled the five fellows as they stood in a tight ring. It was Andwise, himself heading back to the cottage at the edge of the Inn grounds. ‘Chattering like magpies,’ he commented as he motioned them to fall in with him. ‘Work won’t get done that way,’ he said in a serious tone of voice. He laughed as their faces fell at his mild scolding.

‘And if the work’s not done, the party will be put off . . .’

Andwise laughed aloud to see their pace pick up . . .

[Nurumaiel]

A little chuckle escaped from Blanco. Marcho turned sourly towards him, but he was not disheartened by the cold look. Rather he made a small gesture to the Elves sitting at a table not far from them. 'They're looking at you, Marcho,' he said. One of the Elves glanced at them again and Blanco waved with a cheery smile, winking. Marcho snorted.

'What does one think of when one looks at an Elf?' Peony murmured dreamily. Bingo's eyes were shining.

'Everything beautiful in the world,' he said. 'You think of the wind in the trees, and the sun shining on a softly rippling lake, and you think of the grass waving amid the wildflowers, and the starlight over a flowered glade, and of singing and dancing in the sun. You think of rivers running through valleys of green, and of the musical notes of the birds rising in the clear air, and of the deer standing still and graceful, and the golden glory of the sun's rising.'

Marcho bestowed a gracious look upon Bingo. Blanco ran his hand back and forth on the table, staring woefully at the door. He hadn't seen his brother since morning, and he hadn't seen Lily since last night. He wanted to see both of them again, and he reluctantly admitted that he missed Posco more. He was worried for him, too. 'When will they come back?' he said. 'What will happen to Posco, out there all alone? Back home he never went out riding unless I went with him. What if he falls and hurts himself? He's just a little child.'

'Ridiculous,' said Marcho. 'If he's a little child, so are you. You're exactly the same age.'

Blanco looked indignant. 'That is not so. One of us is a few minutes older; I think it's me.' He went back to his moaning. 'Oh, poor Posco,' he said. 'What will happen to him? I miss him so much.'

'I always heard that twins couldn't bear to be apart,' said Marcho, 'and every set I've met can manage being alone for awhile. There's something wrong with you, Blanco.'

Once again Blanco was indignant. 'There's something wrong with them,' he said. 'Who could get along without their dearest friend and brother?' And he gazed wistfully at the door. Still there was no sign of the two riders.

[the real findorfin]

The horse slowed to a trot as the inn came into sight and Fin sighed. The sign of the Green Dragon swang slowly above the door, a welcome memory to the elf after his journey. It felt like an age since he had last stepped over the threshold of this particular inn and it felt good to be back. He remembered his first visit, some years ago when it had been Dwarin who had run the establishment. His first visit had been his fondest, for he had met a good friend, a fellow elf named Celebmornie. On his subsequent journeys, the owners may have changed but the Green Dragon felt as welcome as it ever had, with its quaint setting in the Shire and its large fireplace and full common room.

Fin grinned as his horse stopped outside and he dismounted, handing the reigns to a stablehobbit. The Hobbit-folk always found time to sit and drink, whether during the harvest when crops were to be had, or when the snow sank in thick drifts and logs were needed. No, the hobbits always seemed to manage.

He pushed the doors open and scanned the commonroom with a quick encmpassing glance. Ever changing, the enhabitants of the Inn were unknown to him, but he wondered if Aman was to be found. He hoped she at least would remember him, the dashing elf of Eryn Lasgalen. He strode confidently across the room and leant on the bartop. He hailed the first maid he saw, an unknown hobbitlass and asked, "where can Aman be found? Is she on the premises? Tell her an old friend has returned, wondering if she still remembers him?"

[Envinyatar]

From his vantage point on the cottage roof, Derufin kept tabs on the work going on below. Jinniver had found the gardener’s shed near the Inn’s kitchen garden and with the help of Gil had brought back what she needed to prepare the flower beds for planting. Gil, upon his return, had resumed his place on the hammer and nail team for the new room being added. Ferrin was his partner in this, while Tomlin and Fallon did the measuring and sawing of the lumber. Below, in the kitchen area, the steady ebb and flow of conversation between Andwise and his son, Ferdy, let Derufin know that the cabinetry and window frames were coming apace.

For his part, Derufin restarted his work on the roof. The patchwork was done on the main part of the shingling over the original areas of the cottage. He’d hauled up lumber for the base roofing for the new addition, and now he began hammering it into place. Once done, he would spread a coat of pitchy tar to seal all the seams. Then, tomorrow, he would begin the shingling.

He called down to Tomlin who was just setting another piece of wood on the saw-horses. ‘Send me up a bucket of water and a tin mug, if you would,’ he said, lowering a thin rope to the ground. ‘It’s hot up here and bound to be hotter as the afternoon wears on. A little something to keep me from being parched out would be nice.’ Tomlin obliged with a grin, and soon the bucket was secured in the shade of the eaves. Derufin waved his thanks to the Hobbit and returned to the task at hand . . .

[Witch_Queen]

"I have spent the last few nights in Rivendell. Though it seems like I should not have left." Adu glanced over at the hobbits and noticed the smile one of them had on their face. "Rivendell reminds me of the home I left many years ago. I haven't seen Eryn Lasgalen long since Elessar came to the throne of Gondor. Instead I have found home amongst the men of Rohan." Adu missed her old and "new" home all together. She didn't want to think about all the years before this moment in time. She was back amongst elves even though it was only one she was still glad to be with her own kind.

"It seems like our little "admirers" can't stop looking over here. Should we go say hi?" Adu shook her head at the sight of the hobbits smile. She didn't want to associate with the hobbits but then again she didn't want to offend them. She ran her hand through her loose black hair after placing her empty mug on a near by table. It was all Adu could do to keep from laughing.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu glanced over at the Hobbits that had been looking at them. He shook his head and frowned.

"I think, perhaps, they see in me the face of my Brother." he said "He used to come here with Gandalf the grey. Although the last time he came was in 2941 of the third age. That, I am told is when the infamous Bilbo Baggins was sent on his perilous quest. Perhaps they see me as suspicious, and a causer of trouble."

Fáinu looked again at the Hobbits, one peered back at him and scowled. Another got up and left the inn muttering something, Fáinu looked down at the floor and then to the fire. However, he swiftly he withdrew his glance from it.

"Dragons," he muttered under his breath, almost scoffing, "hate them."

Adu looked intently at him when he said this, but said nought. Fáinu glanced up at here and smiled. A Hobbit came and retired the now whistling kettle and went into the kitchen shouting abuse at another.

"Pleasant creatures," said Fáinu as the Hobbit dashed into the kitchen, "Who knew they had such colourful tongs?" he smiled and then looked at his right hand, the bandage was rotten and filthy, it needed changing, but he dared not for fear that the scars he bore under it would bring back unpleasant memories.

[Witch_Queen]

Adu noticed something wasn't right. For some reason it seemed like he was hiding something from her."Fáinu, what happened to your right hand?" She noticed that the bandage was in need of desperate change. She looked up at the elf. The look on his face told it all. "Forgive me. I did not mean to be asking about something that is none of my business. I'm sorry." Adu remembered the last time she asked someone about an injury. Dorian had locked her up for a few days in her room.

Old memories seemed to haunt Adu lately. She couldn't seem to get it out of her head. Why would she remember a dead tyrant like Dorian. He no longer had a hold on her or her life. "Fáinu, you should get those bandages replaced." Adu reached to the pack setting beside her. "Here let me see it. I won't hurt you at all." While she was in her pack, Adu grab a piece of Lembas bread before sticking a piece in her mouth. She made a gesture of ofference. "Want some?" Adu smiled and her eyes "sparkled". For once in her life she was actually happy to be around another elf. Perhaps his story isn't as different from mine. Perhaps his past isn't full of nothing but torture and deception.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu looked sad and depressed. He looked at his right hand and shook his head.

"I am not hungry," answered Fáinu, "But thank you." he looked at the fire again, but did not turn away. It was as if he was trying to remember things he had blocked out.

Adu munched on her lembas as Fáinu hung his head and thought. Then he lifted his eyes and looked at her.

"Not for a long time have I spoken of this," he said sadly "This is a wound that will never heal." He began to untie his bandage and there she saw his hand was grievously burned, almost to the bone. "Many years ago I went to visit my parents in Dale. It was a joyous time until the dragon Smaug came."

Adu looked Fáinu in the eyes and she saw fear in him. She did not like the look of his hand and turned her face from it when he revealed it.

"The Dragon burned everything, but I took it on myself to aid in the battle against him." Fáinu shook his head, "That was foolish. I saw across the plain the Dragon, laughing and burning. I looked him in the eye!"

Adu was startled; she knew well that it was perilous to look in the eyes of a dragon. For oft they will place upon one, a Dragon spell.

"For a time I distracted him. Our wills strove and for what seemed to me like an age. I thought I had the upper hand. But the Dragon was too cunning. He put forth his power and I was set like one who is made of stone." Fáinu looked at his hand clenched his fist, "He then came to me, burning as he went.
'Who art thou?' he asked me, I needed not to answer, for he read my thoughts, 'thou art of the house of Elrond?' he scoffed and mocked my kin. 'One who has such strong will should not be here; thou should be with thine kin and protecting them from my fire. Or art thou too conscious of the minstrels, who would sing of thee if thou woludst defeat me?'

He laughed and cursed all elven folk. He put forth his power and said 'Now thou shalt here my curse upon thee. One who has strove with my will. Never shall any wound fully heal, and pain shall remain with you till the end of days! But I shall let you, solely of this place, live to tell of it. Yes, in this I shall be remembered, I shall be a-like to Galurng, the father of our kin, who showed mercy to Turin. I shall be remembered, never shall it be said that the servants of the dark one know not pity and respect for our foes.' then my father came and smote the dragon in the face, but it was to no avail.

"I was released from my standing place and filled with fear, and knowing not where I was, leaped into the water. Then I saw my mother and father standing together on the banks, they held out their arms to help me out of the water. But the Dragon came behind them, I tried to shout, but no sound came from me."

Fáinu held out his hand and looked at it. He sighed and then looked back at Adu.

"I put out my arm to point behind them, to try and warn them" he said, "But it was too late, the dragon blew his fire and I had to watch them being consumed by it. The fire also scorched my hand, and I have ever after born this scar. The wounds caused by Dragon fire, seldom heal, and the curse he laid on me, true or fained, seems to have held to this at least."

Adu was amazed and a few other Hobbits who had listened to this tale sat silently and peered intently at the elves. Some scoffed and said;

"Silly old tales form afar." and were met with agreeing mumbles from surrounding hobbits. Fáinu sat back in his chair and put the bandage back on.

"I have born this bandage from the Elven homes in what was then Mirk wood." Fáinu rapped it around his hand carefully, Adu saw that although the outside of it was filthy, the inside was white and seemed to glimmer in the dim light. "So far it has dimmed the pain, but not removed it."

Fáinu tried to smile and looked at Adu, he peered into her eyes and saw again the regret that was in her. At this he wondered much.

"Lady, I see that something troubles you." He said at last, "I have told you my hurt, will you not tell me yours?"

Fáinu lent forward to listen to her answer. He drew his cloak about him and looked at her intently.

[starkat]

Gwenneth smiled at Ascasir as he bowed. Temporarily at a loss for something to say, she took a sip of her cider and looked around the room. She watched a new elf come in and take a seat.

Isilmë cleared his throat and Gwenneth turned back to her companions and apologize. “I did not mean to let my mind wander like that. Please forgive me. Since it sounds like both you have not seen much of the Shire, why don’t we go riding? I have yet to take my mare out today and the weather appears to be nice."

[Witch_Queen]

Adu looked at him. My hurt? She wasn't sure which problem she should tell him about. "Its a long story. One that may take a while. Fáinu, I was fell victim to an evil tyrant which luckily is now dead. It all happened many years ago. You could almost say I was too young to know better. I allowed my heart to choose what I did. My father wasn't even as good as he claimed." She went on to tell Fáinu about her journey from what was then Mirkwood to Rohan. "I traveled at night and didn't worry about sleeping during the day. When I arrived in Rohan I had over-heard someone talking about the "shield-maiddens". So of course I just had to try something new. I hid my identity. For I was afraid of what would happen if they knew I was an elf." Adu paused. Yes but I even hid myself from me.

"You could almost say I didn't even know myself when I finished. I learned to use the sword and bow. Finally General Dorian took me under his wing. He was like the father I always wanted." She talked about the love she had for him and his children. To her they were just like her own. While Adu was in Dorian's "army" she met a man named Jack Sloll. He took control of her heart and then abandoned her when she needed him the most. "I woke up and he was gone. No note, no nothing. It was as if he was never there. Then Dorian blamed me for Jack's leaving. I ended up spending a week with the children and wasn't allowed to leave the house. It was like a prison. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months and the months became years. I fought by Dorian's side. It didn't matter, I would die for him."

Adu stopped for a moment. Her throat was dry and all she needed was to wet it a little. So she got up and walked to the counter, grabbed another mugg of ale before going back to her seat. "Finally Dorian and his daughter Crystal was at odds. She left home and came to the Shire. Unlucky me was sent after her. Dorian gave me my horse, my sword, my life and now he expected me to take the life of his daughter. I couldn't so we faked her death. Dorian was going to come to the Shire to take my horse and everything he gave me away. Fortunately he was killed. Now I am waiting on my old companion to return from Rohan. Perhaps now there will be a general in Rohan worthy of my sword." A tear rolled down Adu's cheek before she made the attempt to wipe it away. It escaped her hand and continued to roll. "There, Fáinu, now you know my troubles. Now you know my pain. Physical pain can sometimes go away but when it comes to the emotions of my kind, I would rather be dead instead of living my life knowing my life and emotions was stolen away from me."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu sat a while in silence, not sure of how to react to this tale of grief and misery. He sat back in his chair and thought, the crackle of the fire seemed to be growing to an eerie echo in his mind and he looked unhappy.

"Physical pain, can go away," he echoed, "But grief will not. Still in my dreams the words of the Dragon and the screams of Dale go on, gnawing at me. But now, I am rambling."

Fáinu smiled at her hoping to cheer her, he knew how hard it was to retrieve old hurts from afar. He knew, if a little, of the pain she bore. For he had to watch his family being consumed in flame, and that was a nightmare that marred his sleep.

"What do you plan to do now?" he asked, though he knew he could not answer if she asked the same of him, "I wish that I could go back to the house of Elrond, but something draws me away, and it is not longing for the sea."

Adu sat quite still, this slightly surprised Fainu, for on many occasions where he had mentioned the sea, elves would become mournful and regain their longing. She perhaps had too many hurts and did not believe that there was healing in Aman, or maybe, she had been told false stories of it. He could not tell.

Fáinu got up and asked for another drink form the bar, he received one and sat back down by the fire. He drank a little and then sat back, the sound of Hobbit talk seemed to be growing. A few were getting drunk and singing. Adu smiled a little at this as some acted foolishly. Fáinu leaned forward and looked at her.

"Where do you live now if not in Rohan?" he asked, "Here in the Shire?"

She at first made no answer; perhaps she was distracted a little by the merriment and silly behaviour of the surrounding Hobbits. The sounds of an argument could be heard in the kitchen, Still the Hobbit was being told off for forgetting about the kettle.

[Witch_Queen]

"Where do you live now if not in Rohan?" Fáinu asked, "Here in the Shire?" Adu sat there silent. Though she knew none but few felt the way she did. "I live no where now. I'm only staying here for a short time. Rohan is no longer my home." Her words echoed in her heart. But Rohan is everything I have now. "The sea only tells me to stay away. For I am not worthy to be around the glory of the elves. Why leave a world that still needs me?" The only thing Adu knew was that her father had left these lands and she wasn't wanting to join him. "I could never live in the Shire. Too much merriment for me. After all it only reminds me of how gloomy my life is already. Why should I be reminded of it all? Why should I be tortured everyday?" Her words were swallowed up by the sounds in the room.

What once was a whisper had become a full out right shout. Adu could choose to leave and go some where else, but where would that be. She feared staying in a place for too long. Adu slipped her hand in her pocket and felt of the ring her friend had given her. Jack had left her once and then came back to her. The only thing was... Jack had changed and Adu didnt' know him any more. Why should I suffer while everyone else gets to be happy? What is left for me in this life? Do I just stand around and do nothing but soak up my undieing defeat? I have got to do something now. I can't just setting her moping.

Adu looked down into her mug. The ale reflected her face. For once in her long life Adu finally saw the scars she had acquired. These were not physical scars these were the scars on her heart. "My heart is probably dead to everything," Adu figured Fáinu had over heard her words. "After all who can keep their own heart from withering away? I have seen my own "friends" find happiness in others. For me I do not believe that is so easily accomplished." Adu looked up at Fáinu and smiled. "Oh forgive me I am going on and on about my troubles. Few care and then again few do care at all about me."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"Come," said Fáinu, "That cannot be true, what of Crystal? For I perceive that she was a dear friend. Surely she cares for you?"

Fáinu wanted to encourage her; he did not like to see any elf so sad and gloomy, even though he knew the same was in him. She stared into the fire and Fáinu once again withdrew his glaze from it. A few hobbits began to sing and dance on top of tables; they sung silly songs about ale and climbing over hills.

"Think yourself lucky," Fáinu said at length, "You have companions, I have not known good company for a long time. Once I rode forth with Elodan and Elrohir, but that was long ago, and I have not seen them for a long time. I doubt even if they would recognise me."

Adu looked still into the fire; as if some concern had suddenly dawned on her. Fáinu wished he could help, but knew that he would probably make things worse. He knew not his place in the world, now that Smaug was dead; he saw no means to go on living. Before he had thought to gain revenge on Smaug for the destruction of lands and the murder of his family. When news of Bard's victory came to him, he was struck as one who has a stone thrown at them. The pain in his mind was dimmer when Smaug died, indeed, Fáinu knew the very hour that it happened for the pain on his mind was lifted a little.

Yea, Sorrow never dies, and if one has companions, it is dimmed to a mere flicker in the dark, but when one is alone, it grows.

His thought trailed off, as he looked about the room, the sun was streaking through the round windows and many Hobbits were leaving to get on with duties elsewhere. Fáinu became aware that Adu looked to have dimmed her sorrow for now and was smiling lightly.

[piosenniel]

NOTICE OF TIME CHANGE COMING FOR THE INN

Tomorrow, late Sunday Pacific Time U.S., I'll turn time forward a little in the Inn.

It will be nearing evening and suppertime.

Until then, please finish your interactions that take part during this day in the Inn.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[Arry]

The afternoon passed in a pleasing manner for Andwise. His small, thick-fingered hands, moved easily over the cabinet facings – taking off the old paint, smoothing out rough patches, filling in dents. Each one, when done and declared ready by him, was lined up against the side of the cottage away from where the addition was going on. Ferdy, would then take them up two at a time, to the saw-horse table he’d put together for himself, and sand them even more finely, then would come the stain and finally the rubbing of each to a soft luster.

By the end of the day, they should have the cabinets all done. Tomorrow, Ferdy could begin work on the window and doorway mouldings. They were in fair repair and shouldn’t take long. Andwise, as he worked along in his methodical manner, had begun thinking already of the main door to the cottage. It was a thick oaken door – but as plain and serviceable as its former owner. It wouldn’t do, he thought, for the stablemaster and his new bride. Andwise whistled a bright little jig as his hands moved over the wood before him and his mind moved over the design that had begun to form in his mind.

[Nurumaiel]

As luncheon ended the door to the Inn opened and Posco and Lily entered, looking well-pleased. Both had flushed faces and sparkling eyes, and while Posco's wind-blown hair didn't look too unnatural it was a little odd to see Lily's hair in such a mess. Blanco gave a cry and flung himself across the room, throwing his arms about Posco and saying, 'Oh, I've missed you so much! I'm so glad you're not hurt! I'm so glad to see you again! I'm so glad!'

Posco slowly coloured and glanced around the room, and murmured in an agitated whisper, 'Please, Blanco, don't hug me in front of everybody. I'm glad to see you, too.' He patted his brother's shoulder and carefully extracted himself from the grip. Blanco stepped back, grinning madly, smoothed his hair out of his eyes, and bowed to Lily. 'Miss Lily, I trust your ride was enjoyable?'

'Very,' she said, and she smiled at Posco. A shadow passed briefly over Blanco's face, but soon his eyes were shining again as he led them both to their table. 'Miss Lily,' he said, 'may I present my sister, Peony, and Donnamira, a little friend of ours.' There was an exchange of greetings, and then everyone sat easily at the table. Blanco sat next to Posco, one arm about his brother's shoulder.

'Well,' said he, looking from one to the other. 'Perhaps you would like a late luncheon, and then when evening comes we can sit by the fire and you can tell us of what you did on the ride. We'll let you think it over now, though.'

[Hookbill the Goomba]

After long converse about hurt, pain and much suffering, Fáinu felt reluctant to leave. It was long since he had had good company, he enjoyed to talk with Adu and did not want to leave, but he knew he must. Sorrowfully he rose and forced a smile.

"I am sorry Adu," he said at last, "I must depart now and perhaps come to Imladris, as I was asked to return after my errand was complete. Wither are you bound?"

Adu made no reply but looked sorrowfully into the fire. He had wished so long for company, and Adu seemed to have enjoyed his company.

"If you have no bonds," He said, "When your companions are here, will you consider following me thither?" He peered about the room nervously, as if he expected attack. "I must leave now and seek Dwaline. A dwarf whom I met on my way to the grey havens, I will return in the evening. Will you still be here?"

Adu turned and smiled, Fáinu smiled back and departed. He walked briskly to the door and opened it; two Hobbits rushed passed him and nudged him as he departed.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger gave a little wave to Mister Andwise as he headed off toward the Inn’s old grounds-keepers’ cottage. She turned away quickly as she saw the five lads looking her way, a small smile on her face. Ferdy had sneaked a quick look her way, then hung his head before she caught his eye. He was sweet on her, she could tell, though he barely spoke to her when her ma would send her over with plum conserve for his old gammer that lived with them.

A mumbled ‘hullo’ was as far as they’d gotten in conversation recently. But she noticed that on Highday (Friday) after market, when her ma would send her by with a basket packed with a small pot of conserve and two loaves of braided bread, that the curtains would twitch, as if someone were watching, and the door would fly open at the barest of knocks. Gammer Banks would be standing there, a smile on her wrinkled face and a gleam in her bright brown eyes. And there holding the door open, half hidden behind it, would be Ferdy, his eyes fixed on anything but Ginger. Old Mistress Banks had taken to tapping him with her cane and telling him to greet their guest. But as she’d noted earlier, the greeting was limited to a low voiced ‘Hullo’ on his part and no amount of pleasant rejoinders on Ginger’s part could urge any further words from him.

Once, on an especially shy day, when she’d worn a blue ribbon in her curls and the new blue skirt and white blouse her ma had made her, he’d been completely tongue-tied and had fled the room before she could say anything back to him. Gammer Banks had eyed his retreating form and shook her head. ‘Hard nuts to crack, these Banks boys,’ she confided to Ginger, seeing the hurt look on the girl’s face. A grin had split the old woman’s face, then, and drawing closer to Ginger has whispered. ‘But well worth the trouble lass!’

From the Inn’s kitchen back door, she heard Buttercup calling to her. Cook wanted help with supper, Ginger was told, as she trudged into the Inn. Ruby and Buttercup were finishing up the cleaning of the upstairs rooms. Ginger would have to be the one to assist Cook tonight.

Nodding her head at Buttercup, Ginger took her apron off the peg by the door and tied it round her. There were scrubbed taters from the garden to be quartered, she saw, in a pile on the kitchen drainboard.

With a sigh, she picked up the paring knife where it hung on a nail on the wall and began attacking the task with vigor.

[piosenniel]

‘Have mercy, lass! Those poor taters have done nothing to you! You’re at them like Master Peregrin and Master Meriadoc taking after those ruffians at the Battle of Bywater!’ Cook eased the paring knife from Ginger’s grip and took the mangled tuber from her other hand. ‘And what’s this,’ she asked in a gentler tone, wiping the fat tears from the girl’s red cheeks with a corner of her apron. ‘These aren’t onions you’re chopping. What’s got the wind up you?’

Now it had been quite some time since Cook had comforted a sobbing young Hobbit, but once her arms had gone round the girl it all came back to her. Words wouldn’t do now, she recalled, clucking her tongue sympathetically as the sniffling explanation came out in spurts and starts and garbled phrases. The old story . . . her own daughters had gone through it themselves. ‘Sometimes, I wonder,’ she thought to herself as she patted the lass on the back and offered her a clean handkerchief from her apron pocket, ‘sometimes, I do wonder how we manage to go on and keep the Shire populated. ‘Course if it were up to the men folk, they’d be spending all their time at the Inn, lining up their mugs instead of home tending to family things. Need handling, the most of them. Leastways that my ma taught me.’

The tears and snuffled statements were winding down now. Ginger was at the hiccoughing stage of being angry and frustrated. Cook led her to a chair and sat her down. She fetched a cold mug of water and a wet cloth to clean away the streaky tracks left by the tears. Once the girl had got a modicum of composure back, Cook fetched her a cup of hot tea with honey and sat down with her.

‘The taters can be done later,’ she said as the puffy-eyed Ginger looked guiltily toward the waiting pile.’ She took a drink from her own mug of the steamy brew and sitting it down on the table top, leaned forward resting her crossed arms on the top, too.’

‘Now, tell me, Mistress Gamwich,’ said Cook in a kindly, but firm, voice. ‘Have you discussed this with your ma? And what has she told you, girl?’

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Oh, Miz Bunce,’ sniffed Ginger, twisting the wet hanky in her hands. ‘Me mum’s too busy to sort out my problems! There’s another little one on the way and my two younger sisters to see to. And Lily, my older sister, is expecting her fifth little one, too.’ Ginger took a gulp of her water before going on. ‘I’m in half a mind that she sent me here to help you to get me out of her hair for a while . . . and in hopes that I’ll meet someone at the dance who’ll take me on in a permanent manner, if you catch my drift.’ Ginger heaved a sigh, letting her shoulders slump in a hopeless manner at the end of it.

It was not that she was a bad girl, or that her mother disliked her. If anything her mother was simply indifferent . . . overwhelmed and indifferent. Peony Gamwich, originally a Millbank from Pincup, had always been of ‘delicate’ temperament. Ten children and another on the way had simply pushed her over the edge. She had barely enough energy to deal with the demands of Ginger’s younger sisters and once the new baby was here, Ginger would be beyond her scope of reckoning altogether. There was no point in turning to her older sister, Lily, for advice and help – she’d enough on her plate with little ones of her own. And the others of her older siblings had moved away from Hobbiton and Bywater and were busy with their own lives. Ginger, it seemed, was odd man out, and overlooked for the most part.

In a way it had made her a fairly self-sufficient lass, one who took things in stride as they came up, but on the other it left her no one to fall back on for those times when she had not the experience to sort out what was happening to her. And this was one of those times.

Cook looked on expectantly.

Taking a deep breath to clear her thoughts, Ginger looked over at the older Hobbit. The old Shire adage, “Make hay while the sun shines” surfaced; here was someone willing to lend an ear, and a word of advice . . . and if she were very lucky, a helping hand. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘it really all started when I was quite a young girl . . .’

Master Banks’ wife, Lily, had died, leaving Andwise to raise his only son, Ferdibrand – or Ferdy, as he was better known. Andwise’s mother had come to live with them, her own children all grown and her dear Hamlin had passed on as a result of an unfortunate incident with a neighbor’s fractious pony he’d been trying to shoe. Ginger’s ma had been friends with Lily and had wanted to ‘help out’ as she could. Thus had begun the weekly deliveries of little things to tide the Banks over, as her mother put it. And now with Gammer Banks getting older, these had been deliveries of braided loaves for the week’s end and small pots of fruit conserve – Gammer Banks has quite the sweet-tooth, Ginger confided.

‘And where does Ferdy – for, I suppose it is young Banks who’s got you into this state – where does Ferdy fit in?’ Ginger colored at Cook’s none too subtle urging to keep on track. ‘He’s about your age, as I remember – or a few years older, but not by much.’

Ginger shook her head ‘yes’. Ferdy was a bit older than she, and those early years she’d followed him about like a puppy when her mother and she had gone to the Banks' for their brief weekly visits. ‘It was easier back then,’ she told Cook. ‘Ferdy looked forward to seeing me and we’d play some little game or he’d show me the new carving he’d been trying his hand at. He was good with wood even back then – just like his Da.’ Ginger smiled remembering a small, painted carving of a bluebird he’d given her. He’d seen one hopping about on a small branch outside his window . . . the color, he’d said, reminded him of the ribbons she liked to wear in her hair.’

‘But all that’s changed now,’ she told Cook. ‘Seems somehow we lost our easy time together as we grew up. Leastways Ferdy seemed to. Got shyer, I think, and more tongue-tied than ever. Hardly says a word to me when I make the weekly deliveries to his Gammer now. And when I catch him sneaking looks my way he just turns all red and acts as if he’d run if he could.’

‘Hang it all, Miz Bunce, I miss my old friend and I just can’t figure out how to get him back! What would you do if you were me?’

Ginger looked hopefully across the table . . .

[Sleepy Ranger]

With light and quick footsteps Melenril made his way to the inn. His grim face had a large smile on it, his dark brown eyes shining with happiness. He opened the door and made his way inside, very happy about the fact that he would soon be meeting his family again. He had gone for about two weeks without a rest and was glad that he found this inn. His beard had gone for many days without a shave and his dark brown hair constantly falling over his face. He made his way to an empty table in a corner and seated himself. "Think I'll rest a while before doing anything else." He thinks to himself. "It'll be great to see mom and dad again and the rest of the family." He thinks out loud.

He looks around at everyone in the room, his face still beeming with happiness. The fact that he was thirsty and hungry had been overcome by his happiness and he felt like singing out with joy but managed to keep himself from doing so. After a while of resting his weary feet, he walked up to the Inn Keeper, "A bottle of your best wine, if you'd please." He says in a cheerful voice. "And perhaps even todays special."

[piosenniel]

Cook got up from her chair and brought the scrubbed taters to the table along with a couple of paring knives. ‘Never mind the skins, my dear,’ she told Ginger, shoving a pile in front of the girl. ‘We’ll get these quartered while we talk.’ Ginger’s quick hands bent to the task as did Cook’s, and soon the taters were piled up in a pan and advice heaped upon the young woman.

Ginger, for her part, mostly nodded her head as Miz Bunce spoke, but she stopped her whenever she didn’t understand or when she disagreed. Soon the pan was full and Cook filled it with water to set the taters boiling over the cook fire. Two large lamb roasts that Cook had earlier tucked into a pan and set on low in the oven were taken out to be basted, and their seasonings adjusted . . . then back they went to finish their slow roasting. Finally, Cook brought out a colander full of peas fresh picked in the garden and she and Ginger set to popping the tender green jewels free of their casings and into a large pan. They would be steamed lightly, and served glistening with butter.

As they sorted and worked through the peas, Cook suggested they make a little plan . . . just a little something to get Master Ferdy reacquainted with his childhood friend. The workers would be eating at the Inn tonight. Ginger was to be the server at the table where Ferdy would sit. And tomorrow, she said, taking a butterknife to one of the hinges that held a cabinet door on, she would ask Master Andwise if he might spare his son for a bit . . . there was a cabinet in the kitchen needed fixing . . .

‘And shall I be in the kitchen then helping you?’ asked Ginger, wondering what little job Cook would set for her.

‘No,’ said Cook. ‘I think the garden will need some tending, and you’ve just the hand and eye for weeds it needs. Master Ferdy and I will have a little talk. He’s not got a mother to set his head straight on his shoulders . . . I’ll just prod him along a bit. Had to do that with my own two sons. They could be a bit thick-headed at times.’ Cook tapped her foot on the floor, as she thought for a bit. ‘Believe I’ll first have a little talk with the lad’s father, though . . . best to have all your ducks in a row before a project’s begun . . .’

Cook untied her apron and hung it on the peg by the back door. Now you just watch those taters for me. I’ll be back in time to set the peas on.’ The late afternoon sun poured low across the back yard of the Inn as Miz Bunce clapped her bonnet firmly on her head and set off for the old groundskeeper’s cottage.

[Witch_Queen]

Adu sat there staring into her mug of ale. She had no idea where Hama could be now. After all it seemed like the elves had told her nothing about seeing him. Adu couldn't stand to not no where he was. Hama where are you? What could have happened? Adu knew she shouldn't worry but she couldn't help it. Adu could hear the on going conversations in the inn. She figured it must look weird for her to be sitting there all alone without anyone to talk to. "What else is there for me to do now? I have waited for Hama and still her dare not show up. Perhaps he has forgotten about me and decided it best to forget his own friends."

Adu stood up and set her empty mug on a near by table. She figured that Count could use some company but then again he could be asleep. She walked out of the inn and looked up at the sky. It seemed all to peaceful for her. She went to the stables and found her horse still in the same stall she put him in. "Count?" Adu wasn't certain if he was asleep or not. As she got closer she noticed that the horse had fallen victim to sleep. "Rest well my friend." She placed her hand on the middle of his back before going back to the inn.

"If ever I have felt alone it is now. It seems like everyone is deserting me when I need them the most. At least I will have Count to depend on. Unless he too decides to leave me." Adu opened the inn door and walked back inside. Hobbits were all over the place and Adu figured she could endure them for a little while longer.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Fáinu was walking down the road from the south, he just went passed Cotton's farm. Next to him, riding on a pony was an old Dwarf. He looked very old, for a dwarf, he had a long but worn beard that was grey, and the green hooded cloak upon his back was battered and torn. He had some traditional Dwarf travelling gear on as well as a sturdy axe near at hand.

"I cannot say that I am surprised." Said the Dwarf, "After all, it had been many years now. And regret like that can grow and eat you heart!"

"Indeed," Said Fáinu, "These days, I know little of what I should do. Go back to Imladris, or wander around. A friend told me about Rohan today, Perhaps I shall go thither."

"Rohan?" Laughed the Dwarf, "that is a long way away, though the paths aren’t dangerous any more. I would still advise against it."

"Why?" Asked Fáinu, "What is wrong with Rohan?"

"I know not, for certain," Replied the Dwarf, "But the world has changed, the elves are leaving, and men still have little trust of them. Even the Dwarves are shunned at times."

"We all thought that trouble would be over when Sauron fell." Said Fáinu sadly.

"Hush!" cried the Dwarf, "Do not speak that name so loudly here! Perhaps tidings have not come to some who would still follow the dark one."

"Perhaps," Fáinu's voice was sad and he seemed to be half in a waking dream.

They came up the road to the Green dragon. Fáinu turned to go inside, but noticed that the dwarf did not dismount.

"Will you not join me for a cup of ale?" he asked,

"No," replied the Dwarf, "The stuff hurts my thought, and I have business to attend to, Farewell." with that he rode off down the road towards Hobbiton.

Fáinu pushed open the door and stepped inside. This time, there were no Hobbits giving him foul looks, mainly as they were drunk. He looked around the room and saw Adu, still sitting alone by the fire. She looked deep in thought, so did not disturb her. He ordered a drink and sat at a table close to where Adu was sitting, so that if she wished to speak with him again, he was close at hand.

[Firefoot]

Lily was smiling happily in the company of the other Hobbits. Marcho appeared to her to be in a much better mood than he had been yesterday; she supposed it helped that she understood his position better now. Blanco was ever his bold self, Peony their sister was sweet, and little Donnamira was absolutely adorable. And, of course, there was Posco. It made little sense to her, logically, that she could have fallen in love with a hobbit she had only met yesterday, but she knew that she had, without a doubt.

In the few hours since she and Posco had returned, there had been some idle conversation, and the time seemed to have flown by. And, oh, what a wonderful time she was having! It was not quite the same as her ride alone with Posco, but she did enjoy the others' company very much. Presently Blanco spoke up.

"Well, we have talked of a great many things and you two have said nothing of your ride. Come now, tell us of it!" Lily caught Posco's glance, and held it for a moment. He smiled slightly at her.

"It was wonderful," Lily began. She blew over the first part, because it had been rather awkward. Neither of them had known exactly what to say or how to act. "We rode leisurely for a while... and then we let our ponies out to a full gallop." A friendly race would have described it better, she supposed. Well did she remember the thrill. Pounding hooves, the wind whistling in her ears, and best of all, it had been with Posco.

[Nurumaiel]

'Yes!' Posco cried, that oddly bold look coming to his face, though he blushed slightly when he realized how loud his voice had been. 'Well, that is to say, it was quite fun.' He paused for a moment to glance at Lily. Seeing that she was smiling at him encouragingly, he went on. 'Oh, you should have been there!' He paused again, for he felt decidely that he was very glad his brother and friends had not been there. 'Well, I do mean, it was very enjoyable.' He coloured deeply. He was becoming confused.

Lily's eyes twinkled and she leaned over to whisper in his ear, 'Tell them about that poor fellow we almost galloped over.'

'Why, yes,' said Posco. 'There was a hobbit crossing the road with his geese, and he was crossing right in front of us. We couldn't possibly slow the ponies in time so we cried out a warning to him. He got out of the way, but his geese didn't want to move. At the last moment they flew here and there, squawking madly, with their feathers flying everywhere.' He chuckled, and Blanco laughed uproariously, slapping Posco on the back 'till he was almost choking.

When he had recovered himself, touching his shoulder tenderly, he turned to Lily and said, 'Tell them of the time we just nearly got over that little river because we didn't want to take the bridge.'

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

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, the Stablemaster (played by Envinyatar)

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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.