In the East reaches of the Shire a few miles from Bywater is the Blue Pine, the friendly retreat for many a weary traveller. Quite often as not, strange rumours are heard from abroad, businesses brought from foreign lands by outlandish folk, and stories are told in the grey candlelight while the wind outside howled by many a veiled stranger. The local hobbits often preferred to drop in after a day of toil, and much is the chatter and merrymaking in the inn during day. Folk often liked to put on quite a show, some bringing with them their music and songs, and sometimes with the learned, poetry. Only the knowledgeable knew about the occasional comings of weird folk. But the merriment and cheer, people knew quite well, was enough to bring in anyone from the Shire to the Misty Mountains, and the distant lands beyond…

The friendly owner is an old hobbit named Fard Loamsdown and his two helpers, Dimple and Haysend Bumbleroot. Fard (known many as just Loamsdown) is a good hearted hobbit and forever helpful, and sometimes too helpful, with recent inn news and troubles, and various comings and goings. Dimple and Haysend are entertainers and love listening to news or stories from abroad, so if you were ever in need to talk, they’re the ones to find, unless of course, they're busy answering to the calls of various inn customers.

So come on in, stranger, step into the eaves of the Blue Pine, where there are not often moments of silence. Folk come and go everyday as they may, some even just to say hello.


--Inn Staff--
Fard, Innkeeper.
Dimple & Haysend, his two helpers
Dubb and Gem, the Gatekeepers
Anyone can play/ add to these characters if their parts are not taken up by people.

[You do not need to sign up at a OOC thread to post here, unless you would like to be one of the above staff. This place is a resting spot for characters on their journeys. Here, they can pick up some provisions and have a well earned rest before continuing on. Just make sure that if your character decides to pay the Inn a visit, that you don't leave them there and forget about them!
The Golden Pigeon Inn OOC Thread]

Twas a cloudy and overcast day in the East Farthing. But nonetheless, in the cosy confines of the Golden Pigeon, folk were seen chatting animatedly, sprawled in squashy chairs by the crackling fire, or laughing merrily with empty beer mugs forgotten on the table beside them.

It was a typical wintry morning at the Inn. The torrents of hail and icy wind banging endlessly on roofs and windows did nothing to quell most spirits, for the noise and hustle and bustle drowned out the weather and engaging music floated by, struck from the strings of an invisible lute by some regular lodger in an unseen corner. Many were too preoccupied to care.

But there were some who were restless and ill at ease. A cloaked figure sat by the fire, unseen by others. He had arrived late the night before with a wrapped parcel clutched in his shaking arms as if he was dependent on it. He had been silent for what remained of the night, slinking in the shadows as if to keep from being seen. Those who did notice him kept their distance. Most didn’t like mixing with mysterious strangers, and afraid of trouble.

A middle-aged hobbit, one of the regular visitors, out from Hardbottle out on family business, noticed him. He left his seat among a table where a group of hobbits were talking to the Inn owner about strange events they had heard, and approached him.

‘Oy, mister,’ he said, taking a seat next to him. He was a friendly soul, and disliked odd encounters, but this fellow didn’t appear all too harmful.

‘What do you want?’ said the stranger in a gruff voice.

‘I couldn’t help noticing ye,’ replied the hobbit. ‘You don’t look like you’re from these parts, what business brings you out here?’ he asked in a curious tone.

‘What business?’ repeated the stranger in his rough voice, ‘just exploring, out and about…’ He hesitated.

‘Alright then,’ said the Hobbit, sensing more to the man than the simplicity of his answer. ‘I go by the name Harley, but most just called me Muff, goodness knows why.’

Harley reached out his hand, and after a moment’s hestitation, the stranger took it.

‘I go by the name Esther,’ said the stranger.

‘Nice to meet you, Esther,’ said the hobbit in a friendly tone. He was about to say something else when there was a loud banging noise outside. Everyone in the Inn fell silent as if the sound had just been sucked out.

A bent figure stood in the doorway, rags folded roughly around him. He clutched a strange walking stick, and slowly hobbed in through the door. It was strange why this old man had seemed to cause so much attention, aside from the loud noise, but it seemed as if whatever they had been doing before had been eluded at the sight of the figure.

Fard, noticing immediately the change in atmosphere, stepped through the crowd and was about to open his mouth to speak when a strange sound came from the bent old man.

‘Eeeee…’ he said, in what was almost a squeak.

‘What is it, sir?’ asked Fard, bending to help the man through the doorway.

‘E…E…Esther!!’ The man bellowed suddenly, waving his walking stick in the air with such force that Fard almost got knocked off his feet in his attempt to step out of the way.

[... *waits in suspense for someone else to continue*...]

Gide was sitting in the darkest, farthest corner of the inn, simply watching the fire blaze in the hearth. She saw a figure sitting there, and knew that the figure was burdend with something, but Gide couldn't quite figure out what. She watched as the hobbit went over and talked to the stranger. Gide knew the stranger wanted nothing to do with the hobbits or anyone else there. The stranger was merely there to gather her thoughts. Something has happened to the stranger that was scaring to her, and she needed to rethink things. Gide heard her name uttered.

"Esther." Gide thought to herself. She had heard the name somewhere before, but coudln't quite remember where exactly, and the importance of the name. She hoped that maybe talking with the stranger would refresh her memory. Gide got up to move towards Esther, when suddenly the door was opened, and the Inn was muted. Gide turned her head to see a hunched figure standing in the doorway. Gide looked back at Esther. She knew that she had relations with this man, and they were most likely bad. Gide quickend her pace towards her, and suddenly the man shouted,

"E...E...Esther!" Gide ran quickly to Esther, who now was filled with fear. Gide grabbed her by the shoulders and said to her quietly so only they could hear,

"Come on. I can get you out of here and far away. Just follow me." Gide waited for a tiny second to see if she would run with her or stay stunned and montionless by the fire.

Esther twitched, startled at the sound of a female voice and turned to behold a fair young lady, it seemed at first glance. Yet in her eyes was a dark twinkle that shone with depth untold in that brief moment when their eyes met. Dimly, Esther was aware of the danger that threatened near the doorway, and ignoring all sense of suspicion at the appearance of this seeming stranger, he followed her. With surprising agility, the stranger wove her way past the surrounding crowd, now caught up in the commotion at the doorway, and led her to a shadowy corner of the hut. They could not leave the hut, not yet, not while there were so many attentive eyes watching.

Several eyes, Esther saw, had followed him as she crossed the space and made his way out of the limelight, but they darted back to the space near the doorway when he melted into the shadows, unnoticed by all but the most intentive eyes. They, he realised with relief, did not yet know who he was. Nor had the bent man that threatened his very identity noticed where he hid. He was safe, for the moment.

Now he turned her eyes back to the maiden that sat beside him, willing her to deny what Esther had just seen, willing her to tell him that it was only in a dream, but she did not. To keep her mind off her worries, Esther motioned at a hobbit who stood nearby, Dimple, he thought his name was, and asked him to fetch two mugs of hot chocolate, which he gladly did, thankful for the distraction.

[*welcomes your character to the thread* Hm, I seem to have unknowingly turned Esther into ‘my’ character when I was only supposed to be an onlooker. Well, if anyone happens to join this one, I’ll happily give away a character ^_^ By the way, I did mean Esther to be male, but since I realise it is also a female name, I guess we can change that and make her female. ]

OOC:I figured that he might be a male becuase of his gruff vioce you said he used. He can be a male, thats fine.

IC: Gide led him to the dark dorner she had been sitting in a while ago. She knew that hobbits were ever watching them, but knew that though they could see, the old man couldn't. Gide sat the man down in one chair, and her across the table.
"I see that you have a nice budle in your hands." Gide said to the man. She didn't wnat to mention the old man, not yet. "You don't have to tell me what it is, thats fine. But what does that man have to do with anything?" She smoothly spoke, not wanting to agitate the man, she knew how to swindle her way to get things. She saw the hobbit walking over with drinks. Taking one for herself she handed one to the man. She looked him in the eyes and waited for a response to her original question.

Esther was hesitant with an answer, not yet knowing if he could put his trust into the stranger who sat in front of him. He sipped his mug, biding time for thought. At last, he spoke.
‘The stranger at the doorway… he is no one. I do not know him or his purpose here, and do not know why he is looking for me, if indeed that is his intention. Please do not draw attention to us by your talk. It is best to stay out of sight.’
Esther saw her open her mouth to speak, but hastily put a finger to his lips, bidding her to stay silent.
‘WHERE IS HE?’ bellowed a raspy voice unnatural for a man so elderly, making Esther flinch. He sank deeper into the shadows, for the silence that followed could mean only one thing. The crowd parted to let the hobbling stranger through.
‘I need to disguise myself!’ muttered Esther under his breath urgently to the lady, ‘And fast! I must not be found, do you hear?’
Though his tone was contrary to the answer he had given before, she could not ignore a man in need.

[K, a man he is ^_^ I'll edit my previous post.]

Gide wanted to help the stranger in any way she could, so she thought hard and quickly about what could disguise him. Something finally came to her mind, causing her to take her cloak off with speed.
"Here," She said quietly "Put this on and it shall disguise you well." She said to him. Esther quickly put it on , and Gide waited as the old man hobbled up to their table. She leaned back into her chair against the wll, so she disappeared with the darkness. She simply waited to see what the old man had to say.

He did not appear to see either of them at first, but after a moment’s pause, just as they thought he was about to leave, he spoke, ‘Who’s there?’
‘I?’ Esther heard her speak through the folds of the cloak, hoping the words were indeed not directed at him. ‘I am a traveller. Is that anything to you?’
‘No…no…’ muttered the man, recognising the voice to be female. He turned the figure beside her, ‘And who is this?’
Esther uncovered the cloak slightly, but not so his face could be seen in the dimlight, and looked up. Guessing that it was best he did not speak, he held up his hands in gestures to his helper, hoping to communicate silently to her that he was a mute.

Gide got the hint quicklt and smiled slightly, but knew the old man couldn't see her through the darkness.
"My friend here is a mute, sir." She said to the man, still low allowing her face to be shown through the shadows. "Well, arn't you going to be leaving now?" She didn't try to be rude, though she thought she came across that way,, but really didn't care too much anymore. She just waited for the man to leave, for Gide needed to be leaving soon as well, and thought that Esther might be wanting to come with her, just to get out of the trouble he was in.

Seeing the stranger take a last, brief glance at him, Esther heard the man move off and head back towards the doorway of the inn. For the moment, the immediate danger had passed.
He took off his cloak and offered it back to his helper.

‘Thank you for aiding me,’ he muttered. ‘There was no reason for you to do such a deed. I am called by some, Esther. Though you do not seem to have not yet told me your name, or your business here…’

For the first time, he clearly noticed that his supposed companion was an elf, though she somewhat differed in appearance too, but how he could not tell.

[If you’d like them to leave the inn… we’ll make a new thread for this somewhere. I’ll leave that up to you ;) ]

OOC: Hmm...seems fine to me to leave the Inn, and go out into Middle Earth and stuff. I say we go far it.

Gide sat back reluctantly. Which name would she chioce to tell? The lass known one that was her own: Gide, or the one that she more commenly used: Belothien. She made her decision quickly.
"My name is Belothien, Esther. My buisness here is nothing other than the buisness of vacation, or a break." Gide sat back a little bit, not letting Esther know why she was here on "vacation" so she said. Gide suddenly thought back, as they sat in silence, about the first time hearing Esthers name. She knew that she had heard it before, but still wasn't sure where. Gide leaned back into the table and asked,
"So, Esther, where have your travels been? I have heard of your name before, but I am not sure where." Gide stopped talking for a minute and looked around the Inn. There were many hobbits around, and Gide knew that they would come asking Gide and Esther questions that Gide didn't want to answer. She waved to Esther and started standing up.
"Come on, we need to be leaving before we get bombarded by hobbits" She waited to see what Esther would do, and hope he would leave with her.

Seeing that it were better for him to be on his way once more, Esther stood and followed Belothien as she led the way through the milling crowd towards the entrance of the Inn. After the brief one night stay had brought signs of uncertainty, he did not like to think of the possibilities of other unwelcome visitors searching for him here. Besides, it did not do good to the business of the Inn. It was best that he leave. Pausing, he glanced around at the owner, apparently shaken by the unexpected visit, but leastways everything was back to normal. The crowd had dispersed and were once again resuming their merrymaking.

As the two made their way to the doorway and stepped out into the cool midday atmosphere, Esther turned to Belothien. ‘Where do you intend to go from here?’

[Okay, fine with me :)]

Erelith approached the Inn with her face cloaked, eyes averted to the ground, away from the stinging of the afternoon sunlight. She was concealed entirely by her long, dark colored cloak – all except one spot. The shoulder of her cloak was torn, and the fabric of it had limped over like a wilted flower, showing her slightly blue-tinged skin. She took little notice of anyone around her, letting the door to the inn creak shut behind her.

“Please -” Erelith said with an almost inaudible tone to her voice. “I need refuge.” Digging into a pocket she pulled out what was probably twice the worth of a room and laid it on the table in front of the Inn keeper. The man nodded, and looked on at her for a moment in curiousness wanting to see her shadowed face. He pulled out a small key for her room, instructing her as to where she could find her accommodations. Erelith slowly made her way towards the room, slightly favoring her left leg over the right as she began up the stairs. Her pale fingers began to tremble, and everything around her began to spin. She leaned in close to the wall, and waited as her head returned to normal. Erelith felt paler than usual, almost sick to her stomach. Taking a few steps up the stairway she began to walk down the hall. She took in a breath of air, only to find herself cough it back up. Her heart was pounding, and her leg throbbing with pain. Reaching a slender hand out she took hold of the handle nailed to the door of her room. Having kept it unlocked, the door swung open easily for Erelith and she stumbled inside.

The gentle light of the afternoon streamed in through the window over the bed, and stung Erelith’s unaccustomed eyes. The sounds of merry-making and other commotions seemed to fade from her ears as she found herself growing light-headed, feeling around for the support of the wall as she faltered to the rough wooden floor. Hot tears stung their way down her thin face, and the pain from her leg consumed her. Roughly she attempted to pull the constricting boot off her wounded leg, but only let out a cry of pain as it was pulled off. Blood had stained through her leggings and make-shift bandage. Her pale hands were quivering more than ever now, and everything began to grow dim as she passed in and out of consciousness.

Dimple watched cautiously out of the corner of his eye as first the odd stranger and his new found companion left through the doorway, and another figure enter moments afterwards. He did not like meddling in other people's affairs, but this new stranger, a woman, was clearly in a desperate state. His eyes followed her as she spoke briefly to Fard, her barely audible voice was the manner of someone who was in need of aid, then left, hobbling uneasily up the creaky floorboards on the stairs which headed to the lodging rooms.
Abandoning his silent position behind the counter where he had just finished dealing out orders for drinks, he made his way to where Haysend was talking animately to a couple of lodgers, men with gruff voices out of the lands nearest Bree, and motioned to him that he needed a word. With strange urgency, he pointed out to his companion the maiden who had just entered. She was making her way haltingly up the staircase as her hands gripped unsteadily at the handrails for support.
At first not sharing his brother's concerns, Haysend merely returned Dimple's unease by saying, 'It is most probably nothing of major concern, likely an elderly visitor weary from a day's toil.'
'If she were an old lady, I would not be so concerned, and would but simply aid her in making her way up the stairs, but she was young, or so I thought. Her voice was clear though soft, and reminds me of youth in the summer fields like those in our childhood. Something seems not right.'
'If it is as you say, what then do you propose we do?' said Haysend.
'Let us follow her and cater for any needs she may have this night, and maybe something may be learned,' decided Dimple.
Without another word, the two left the chattery crowd behind them and made for the stairs the maiden had passed just moments before. The lodgings were at this time of night largely empty but for a few rooms, their doors fast closed to stay unwanted visitors. Her door was ajar, and the soft light of a flickering candle came from the confines of the room. Haysend knocked softly on the door and pushed it gently open.

Erelith forced her eyes open, almost looking around wildly at the door swinging open. Her hood fell to her shoulders, and she tried her best to back into the shadows of the room. She dragged her wounded leg with her, trying her best not to move it as much as she could manage. Her heart was pounding, and she held in her breath to see if they might go away. Erelith looked to the stars shining their way through her window, and tried propping herself up against the wall a little. Feeling around for her weapons she remembered she’d taken them off earlier and were now lying across the room. She already didn’t trust whoever it was, even though she had no right to. She knew if they even saw who she was, they’d probably attempt to kill her. It was uncommon already for an elf to be passing through the Shire and probably even more uncommon for Moriquendi to have passed through. Perhaps if they were only a few hobbits she could defend herself, but nothing against an elf or a man.

“Who is there?” Erelith called out finally, an almost terrified tone to her voice. She bit her lip and held it, thinking of what would happen next. Erelith only could hope that they’d be accepting of her, and willing to help. Wincing Erelith looked down at her leg and the trail of dark blood she’d left across the rough wooden floor. It was a slightly unusual color, darker than the average color of an elf or a humans, though still had a red hue to it. Erelith awaited fate, knowing her weak state wouldn’t allow her to fall back on any magic she might have been able to do.

'It is only us,' said Dimple, turning his head slightly to notice that Haysend, too, was apparently taken aback by the shaky reaction of their visitor. Trying his best to hide his surprise, he continued. 'We're escorts of the inn, Dimple is my name, and this is my brother, Haysend.' He gestured vaguely at his companion. 'We only came here to see to whether you needed anything for the night.'
Erelith said nothing to this for the moment. 'You seem mighty tired,' observed Dimple, 'You must have been on the road awhile, and could probably do good with a hearty meal, which we would be happy to give you. Is there anything you prefer? Wine and fresh fruit and newly baked bread? Or a pint perhaps?'
'Or if you would prefer to join the other guests downstairs during tea, you're welcome,' added Haysend, though the state of the maiden, elf, he thought perhaps she might be, suggested thatthis seemed something unlikely. 'Even if you don't want to have anything now, simply give us a call whenever and Dimple and I will come running.' Here, Haysend paused, judging the situation. Beside him, Dimple wondered whether it was the right time to start asking questions. She was limping, that was for sure, which surely meant she was hurt in some way. For the moment, he said nothing.

“No –” Erelith said hesitantly, turning down the offers. She paused, not wanting to turn them away so quickly. Leaning up against the wall for support, Erelith struggled herself to stand. The candlelight was enough to show them who she was, even through the dirt and blood stains across her hands and face. Her dark eyes looked up at them momentarily, waiting for a reaction. She felt awkward asking for help, because of the fact she’d most likely never done it before. Gripping the end of her bed post she limped over to sit on the large chest at the end of her bed, more in the light.

“I am one of the Moriquendi.” Erelith stated, which probably obvious observance by now. “..a dark elf.” She dug through a pack leaning just against the corner of the bed and the chest, pulling out a vial of clear liquid. She pulled the cap open, letting its pleasant fragrance spread throughout the room before taking a sip of it. It made her feel a little better, more rejuvenated – and a bit of her strength came back to her.

“Thank you for the offers though.” She laughed lightly, “You are most kind.” Erelith paused for a moment, coughing hard. She felt a little trickle of blood come from her mouth, and she quickly wiped it away, hoping they hadn’t noticed how bad she was getting. “I think I’m going to need a few stitches, and probably some bandages.” She said, forcing a smile.

(Silly Elf! I posted back. Didn't you see? You Posted the same thing twice.)

[Whoops. Sori. I had it in my folder thing and didn't think I'd posted it because I didnt delete it. :wacko: Oh well, no time for it now, I'll post back tommoz (I hope :) ) I must be tired... *yawns*]

Dimple hesitated, looking curiously sideways at Haysend before saying in a heartily reassuring tone, 'That can be easily arranged.' He turned and spoke quickly in his companion's ear, issuing an instruction as to fetch what their guest needed, and Haysend left the room, leaving the door wedged open. The sound of his light footsteps on the stairs could be heard as they faded away into silence. The still air like a heavy veil, as Dimple shifted uneasily in his position by the door, surveying the elf with growing curiosity. Plopping himself down in an armchair beside the blazing fire, forgotten tales told only by outlandish folk in the dim light of hazy days in the Inn stirred in his mind.

'A Dark Elf, did you say? We don't often trouble ourselves with folk from far off, but that name seems to stir some distant thought I can't readily recall.' He scratched his head. 'I've often heard tell of Elves from travellers that come in now and again who've been to those distant places we folk here seldom now travel... But Dark Elves, now. That is a different matter. I can't say I know much about matters concerning them. A rare folk, maybe. How comes you here, and what might your businesses be? I'm curious to know. I do know the small pockets of land around this area, having been a fairly adventurous fellow myself, and as sure I am that it is mighty rare to be seeing folk such as yourself come by. Your arrival's struck a fair strand of curiosity, if you don't mind me saying.'

Dimple paused with a chuckle. The light outside the window was slowly failing as the day wore away. Soon, the first specks of stars would be the only lights that lit the dark sky. He shivered and shifted his chair closer to the fire.

Erelith turned her dark eyes to the window, watching the sun slowly sink behind a pale horizon. For some reason, she found comfort in the shadows of night, though she didn’t know why. She listened to the voice of Dimple, letting it fade out as she thought of an answer to give him. Melethron. Erelith thought to herself, her eyes watched the floor but a smile crept across her face at the thought of him. It faded quite quickly though, returning the often expressionless look on her face. Her heart felt heavier than a thousand stones, and she didn’t know what hurt more.

“Wood Elves.” Erelith replied simply, though it wasn’t a lie. “That’s how I got my wound.” She didn’t feel right to tell him her own business, nor did she exactly feel like hiding it either. “No doubt they’ll be looking for me.” She finished off grimly, looking to where Dimple was sitting.

Dimple was taken aback. Realising he had let himself wander elsewhere, he turned his attention back to the pressing matter at hand. Quite obviously, the Elf was grieviously hurt, if not simply physically, but emotionally as well, and that was a greater wound than any.
'I am sorry to hear that,' he said to her. He hoped against fear that those who had attacked her would not find their way to the inn. For, sure a riotous commotion it would cause, but from the pain in her voice, it seemed her wounds were not small. Barbaric, the attackers seemed, that Dimple felt he would certainly not wish to meet them. The name Wood Elves was, of course, also unknown to him. It was simply to him a name, and an unwelcome one.
'I will alert the gatekeepers to watch for any signs of odd foreign folk about, so you need not worry about that for the moment. Though we have no fighters among us, If these people you talk of decide to stage a fight, I fear you will not be safe here for long. At least tonight, you shall have some rest. If you want to turn in early rather than listen to my talk, you can do that.' He gestured at the bed near the windowsill. 'You look worn out,' he added.
At that moment, Haysend returned with a bundle of rolled bandages. 'I brought what I could find,' he said as he entered. He held them out. 'I will dress your wounds if you are willing.'

Her long silver hair was disheveled from all she’d been through before getting this far. Several locks curled around her shoulders in ringlets, though her pale-grayish ears still found their way out of the mess, sticking out as they always seemed to. She shivered a little, the draft of night creeping its way into the room and giving Erelith a cold chill. She put a slender hand along her arm, thoughts drifting off to other things. Her dark eyes were like black voids, emotionless – though her lips conveyed a slight quivering sadness. She bit her lip to retain it, looking down at the floor so it wouldn’t be noticed.

She was surprised Dimple seemed to not know about wood elves, though he seemed to know of her own race. “Every elf – “Erelith started to explain to him, and then broke off to correct herself, “Most elves, normal ones that is, hate Moriquendi.” She hesitated to tell Dimple why Moriquendi were hated, if he hadn’t already known. She bit her lip, dark eyes wandering over to meet his. She knew she’d endure an odd look, Dimple would wonder for even a moment perhaps if she was evil. “Mostly it is for the evil personality of most.” She finished off, thinking of perhaps that was the best way to word it. “Wood elves aren’t all that bad, you wouldn’t want to meet one if you were me though.” She said, before thinking it made her seem as if she was evil. “Well, I meant if you were evil.” She said, once again correcting herself. She looked over to Dimple to find his reaction – if any.

“Oh, no – “Erelith started to say as Haysend offered to bandage her. “I couldn’t – “She broke off, feeling guilty she’d burdened them so much already with her own matters. “I mean, you’ve both been kind enough to me already.” She finished off, attempting to take the bandages from Haysend. She was hiding something; it was apparent, though Erelith said nothing and remained to herself.

When it was apparent Erelith was reluctant for Haysend to touch her wounds, he handed them to her so that she could put them on on her own. Obviously, something was hidden inside her that she was unwilling to yet tell them. He stepped back, pondering the Elf's words, unsure as to how much she would say.

She reminded Dimple of one who purposefully made sure to speak warily as to conceal matters greatly, not unlike many of the travellers who lately came from afar, bearing secrets that mattered little, it seemed to Dimple, to those that lived in this quiet corner of the world. As if by some sign or whisper that stirred the restless atmosphere, a wave of wind from the eaves of the open window wafted into the room. The candles by them flickered dangerously for a split second, and went out suddenly, sending the room into momentary tenebrosity.

'No matter,' said Haysend's voice through the semi-darkness, 'I'll relight the candles.' He got up and, retrieving a matchbox from in his coat, struck a match. Soon, the room was blazing with light as the candles shone fiercingly once more from their position on the mantel. In that brief moment of half light, Dimple, always the observant one, noticed Erelith fumble for something. What it was, an object or merely the bandages, he could not tell. Nor could he catch her overshadowed face until light once more flooded the room.

'These wood elves that you mention,' said Dimple, taking care to hide his inquisitiveness. He wondered at what he would say to her to stem the flood of questions that filled his mind that moment. 'Why are they hunting you?'
'Also,' added Haysend, sitting back down again, 'I don't believe you have told us your name as yet.' He looked at her inquiringly.

Erelith’s dark eyes met Haysend’s momentarily; giving him a brief look of disbelief she hadn’t introduced herself. The night air rustled Erelith’s moonlit hair, breathing its way through the slight crack in the window.

“It’s Erelith.” She put simply, giving a gentle smile at him. Looking down at her leg she noticed the blood had come close to stopping, and staining most of her bandage. She laid the one’s she’d been giving just across from her and began to slowly unravel the makeshift one along her leg. The grief was all too near for Erelith, and she fell silent, afraid to answer Haysend’s first question. She felt slightly bitter, wishing there was something more she could have done for Melethron, feeling her eyes start to burn from the tears she was forcing back. He was the only one who she felt ever understood her – and now he was gone, for eternity. She smiled, remembering the first time they’d met. She’d been changed since then – he’d always push her to the best he knew she was capable of.

“They think I’m evil.” Erelith forced out a half-truth, though came to tell him the full story. She didn’t feel right keeping a secret about someone she loved. It was something she was used to doing all her life, and she felt shameful doing it now. She turned toward Dimple, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I went to say goodbye to a friend. I received a letter from someone telling me he was injured badly, and they were sending him off to the Grey Havens.” Erelith began to choke, forcing down the tears, and refusing herself to cry.

“I loved him so much - I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” She bit her lip, eyes slightly watering up. She let out a small sniffle, and then wiping away the brimming tears forcing a nervous smile.

“He was a wood elf, so it’s not exactly accepted that I even associate with one by either race.” Erelith finished off. She felt so awkward for telling complete strangers her feelings, but she knew for the sake of Melethron he wouldn’t want her to go through this alone.

“I can not follow him to Valinor. I’m cursed to stay here.” Erelith said with a slightly bitter tone to her voice. She fell silent finally, beginning to wrap her now bare and wounded leg in fresh bandages trying to ignore the fact her heart felt like it was a lump of coal in her chest.

Haysend continued to look directly into the sheltered face of Erelith, trying to see her full face, to see why she had to keep hidden. When she smiled he returned it, but haysends smile was more sympathetic then he would of liked. However, as Haysend continued to watch Erelith, the empathy for her came back as she struggled to unwind the dirty cloth she had around her leg already. Haysend wished he could do more for her; concentrating on her wound, he thought it needed a good bathing and in some proper light a good bandage, but he would not go against her wishes, and chose to remain seated until she needed something more.

Haysend looked sadly at Erelith, he could hear her struggling to keep her voice normal, he wondered at what could cause her so much sorrow, from what he could hear it seemed that this 'Friend' was more than what she was letting on. But no more questions on that topic, if it caused her too much pain to talk about, although he wanted to know more. Why would anyone think her evil, he thought, she seemed safe enough, not likely to cause him and Dimple any harm.

At the mention of Valinor, he stole a quick glance at dimple to see his reaction. Haysend had many questions floating round in a circle, he thought what will happen if i let curiosity get the better of me?

As if haysend was talking to a customer downstairs he said "I can't see why anyone were to think you evil, all i see in front of me is a woman who can take care of herself. Personally, there doesn't seem to be much evil in you! Why would those wood elves, if thats what their called, say something like that?"




(OOC: hope it all makes sense - first time i've posted in a RPG in a while - i need to get to grips with the character.)

Dimple looked upon Erelith with renewed compassion in his eyes. In the very confines of the little room, he sensed the Dark Elf’s deep sorrow and her longing for what to her was now forever lost. It was an emotion that stretched further than the circles of the mortal world and lay far beyond what his simple comprehension could take hold of. Reaching within himself, he tried to find some words to say. Words of sympathy, reassurance, words of comfort to cheer Erelith, but nothing left his lips. All he found were the clumsy and light hearted words that were prone to his people. But such words seem too cheery and ill-suited for the heavy atmosphere that had now fallen upon them.

He said nothing. Instead, he tiptoed lightly to a wedge near the doorway and retrieved a lute. Then, laying it upon his lap, he began to play. His fingers danced upon the strings as a light, simple tune floated across the room to gently break the silence. As the music reached their ears, and Dimple himself felt himself released, and he relaxed. He tried to think of words that might fit the tune, but none came to him. So instead he sat, content to just listen as the music wove within itself its own unpronounced message.

Dimple’s thoughts drifted, and in his mind, he saw played out before him an open sea stretched far into the distance. Brilliant sunlight touched the space where the water met the horizon, and he thought he saw a white ship sailing through calm waters, on its way to lands unknown to the mortal eye. How he perceived this, he did not know, for like many others, he had never before beheld the sea in its glory. But here in the still room as he sat, he was met with a sudden wave of understanding as his eyes fell upon Erelith once again.

[Oddly wise he is, don’t you think? You’re doing well, Lucy. Just remember, he’s a hobbit, so hobbit-talk ;) I’m taking awhile to get used to that ^_^ I’m more used to being an Elf!]

Erelith found nothing to say after that, and it seemed neither did the Hobbits. The crackling of the dying fire was the only sound to be heard after the sound of Dimple’s instrument faded from their ears. She felt weary, though she didn’t expect to get much sleep tonight. She felt so bitter for losing the only thing she held dear to her, biting her lip to make a somewhat sour expression upon her face. If only I’d gone with him, Erelith thought, maybe I could have stopped all this from happening. She began to feel guilty for something she felt she might have been able to prevent. Countless thoughts raced through her mind, not knowing where or what to do next. Her eyes glazed over, becoming distant as all the memories played through her head of him.

A small sound outside Erelith’s window made her snap back to reality. Quietly she eased up along the side of the window, looking down cautiously. Her dark eyes studied the streets below her window for several minutes before hesitantly going back and sitting on the bed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until she avenged whoever had injured Melethron that was for sure. She heard almost inaudible footsteps coming up the stairs, it seemed neither Dimple nor Haysend had heard it at first. She stood up quickly, eyes darting around for her cloak. She grabbed it, throwing it on and listening intently to the footsteps coming closer. She threw up the hood of her cloak, hiding her white hair from view. She stuffed the bag she’d brought in under the bed and brought herself over to the darkest corner of the room.

“Please, pretend I was not here.” Putting the cloak over her entire body she crouched and it seemed she was lost in the shadows, and hidden from sight. There was a slight creak of the floor as the footsteps stopped outside Erelith’s room for a moment. The door handle began to slowly turn, and swing ajar. An elf stood there clad in a long green cloak and a silver tunic, overlaid with another green one atop. She saw the two Hobbits sitting there peacefully, and knew there was something odd happening. She could have sworn she saw the dark elf up in this very room moments ago. Seeing the hobbits were probably thinking her crazy she quickly excused herself for barging in and closed the door behind her. She walked away down the hall and down the stairs a little ways outside the Inn, and waited quietly for Erelith to make her escape.

Erelith pulled back her cloak and came from out of the cover of shadow, digging her bag out from underneath the bed. “I should leave.” She said favoring one leg over the other as she made her way across the room to get her knives. She set them down next to the wooden chest at the end of the bed, pulling her boots near her to lace up. She was exhausted from lack of sleep, and it was apparent she was trying to keep herself awake.




(I made her cloak like a Lothlorien one, only err – more suited for dark elves? I suppose it’s an evil version? That works, right? I have such a bad time figuring what sort of dark magic would be in Middle-Earth. Also I started writing Erelith's death for no reason. XD)

Dimple started as he heard the door creak open unexpectedly. As the intruder hastily excused herself after carefully surveying the room, Dimple’s brief glimpse of her face brought him under the impression that this was someone of like kin to Erelith. He was troubled. It was not in the nature of visitors to disturb other lodgers unless it was within their purpose. As Erelith made to leave the room, he got to his feet and made to stop her. Beside him, Haysend opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again. Dimple pretended to ignore Erelith's motion as she picked up her weapons.

‘Were you not planning to stay the night? You are weary. Perhaps it would be well if we left you to rest now? Any plans you have may best be left till morning…’ Dimple asked her with the best of intentions. ‘… Unless there are urgent things you want to attend to,’ he added, feeling it best to not be a hindrance in other people’s businesses unless it was their will. ‘It is already dark,’ he reminded her, ‘Night is coming on, and it is often unsafe out of doors, folk regularly say, until it is light. But your businesses no doubt you keep to yourself, I daresay.’

He did not feel it was his right to stop her outright, but all the same, he could not help feeling unsure. He suspected that perhaps Erelith knew the intruder and it seemed also that it was not unlikely that that someone had been expected. A trigger or sign to action, maybe? he muttered to himself. What the Elf had mentioned before made him wonder. It may have been a wood elf? and then, some distant thought awakened in him that said, Melethron? Convinced though, that the voice he had heard was indeed female, he dismissed this thought and turned back to Erelith.

[Erelith's death?? :wacko: She's gunna die? Wait, has she just decided she's going to leave the inn or is she about to commit suicide, or murder someone?! Don't tell me if you don't wantta :rolleyes:]

(Ah no...I meant I was writing it on my computer, lol I finally figured out how I want her to die. :unsure: Not done with it yet, I still have a few kinks to work out. Perhaps about a year after this occurs (the rp) she dies. XD)You know...if we got the Mirkwood rp idea going, XD ....er yeah she'd die. For sure.

[No one's died yet so this should be interesting, if we ever get there, that is. I would start that Mirkwood RP, but I'm not sure how you'd want it, or what character I'd be. The first thing that's got to be decided is when it is set, because my character's not been alive through all the ages. She hasn't reached that age yet. Is Erelith about to leave? Because if she is, it might be a good idea to start that RP ;) Up to you.
Reminder: All this might be well off in an OOC thread, as we're off topic. Not the OOC to this thread, though.]

Haysend gave a very unnoticeable nod, and as his hobbitish instincts kicked in to help those in need, he sat silently with Dimple on the floor. As the intruder left, haysend, waited until footsteps could no longer be heard, before struggling to get up on his feet. I must stop eating so many meals aday he thought to himself. As he balanced on his feet, he saw Erelith moving towards them. He opened his mouth, but thought better of it, he wasn't going to be able to stop Erelith with words, so closed his mouth, and continued to watch with interest as Erelith moved towards her weapons. Curious of what she was doing, he remained focussed on what she was doing, not taking much notice of everything else happening.

Haysend looked at Dimple, nodding slightly, he agreed, it is not safe for folks of any sort to be travelling out alone at night. He had heard stories, some not so nice about the outside. He gazed out the window suddenly noticing how dark it had become. He turned his attention back to Erelith, she looked as if she could collapse with exhaustion and sleepiness. He looked directly upon Ereliths face, with genuine concern. Haysend did not speak in these moments, he found no words to say that could help the situation, all he did was stand there and observe, nothing more and nothing less

Caution: Never, ever under any circumstance piss Erelith off. You don’t want to see the result. When she snaps, she really snaps. You’ll be really screwed over. I think I just learned this through posting… *hides from Erelith all scared like* Can someone say anger management? Holy crap I really think she’s turned to the dark side :unsure: Okay…no she’s just majorly pissed off. I think that’s an understatement on my part though. :blink:

“I would rather risk my life to the darkness than to be silently killed in sleep without warning.” Erelith was more at comfort in the darkness than most seemed to know, the sunlight was always too heavy and bothersome on her eyes, unless it was overcast. She tried to shove her thick boot over her wounded leg, ignoring the pain. Her stubbornness didn’t even let her think twice that the elf possibly was waiting for her to fall into a trap.

“Thank you for everything.” Erelith said, dark eyes looking from Haysend to Dimple. Surprisingly Erelith bent down to Haysend’s height and hugged him, doing the same for Dimple. “I should get going before whoever it was finds me again.” She gave a half-smile, a little reluctant to leave. She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, heading down the stairs, light footsteps barely audible. She looked out to the empty street, listening quietly before shutting the door behind her.

“Make one sound and I slit your throat.” Erelith heard a voice behind her, and the edge of a blade just prodding into the back of her pale neck. Erelith obeyed them, standing silently as they moved to have a look at her. The elf before Erelith had long brown hair, clad in a long cloak and a green and silver lined tunic. Erelith kept her chin up in almost an arrogant fashion, eyes following every move the female elf made before her.

“Drop them.” The elf motioned to Erelith’s knives around her waist. Like that will stop me. Erelith thought as she threw them down to the ground carelessly. The elf walked towards Erelith with the edge of her blade still against Erelith’s neck. Backing up Erelith found her back against a wall. The elf gripped Erelith’s neck tightly, and she struggled silently for a breath of air. Heaving she gave the elf a swift kick in the gut with her good leg, sending them forward on the ground.

“Your responsible, don’t deny it.” The elf choked, taking a minute to recover from being winded.

“How dare you accuse me.” Erelith hissed at the elf madly, leaning down at them to grab them by the throat, showing them the same treatment they had just showed her. Gripping at the elf tightly she threw them up against a wall aggressively. The elf thrashed against her grip, struggling for freedom. Erelith’s’ eyes burned with black fury at the elf, finally on the edge of snapping.

The elf looked as if she were struggling a smirk between trying to gasp for breath. Letting out an irate cry at the elf she shoved her head against the wall again. The elf stared into Erelith’s eyes, locking on them as she slipped out a small knife from behind her. Feeling the shift in her weight Erelith moved back, spotting the knife in the elf’s hand. The elf grabbed her before she could escape, stabbing the knife just above her heart, near her left shoulder. Erelith staggered backwards as the knife was pulled from her. The corner of her mouth was dripping blood, and she fell to her knees. The elf laughed enjoyably at her, watching as she backed towards the wall to prop herself up. Walking towards her she grabbed her by the throat again, lifting her body up against the wall, forcing Erelith to try and stand. Tears of pain streamed from her pale face, feeling as is she was going to be sick from pain.

“Don’t lie to me.” The elf hissed in her ear, “I know you did it.”

“I would never hurt him.” Erelith choked out between the pain in her shoulder and the hard grip of the elf. “I don’t know who it was – I swear it.” The elf gripped her even tighter around the neck, beginning to cut off Erelith’s air supply completely. Her heart began to throb in her chest, lungs ready to burst for air. Struggling only made it worse for Erelith, and she felt herself struggling to keep consciousness. Blood stained Erelith’s already torn tunic, as well as soaking her blue-grey skin. Finally the grip on her was let go, and she felt herself falling to the ground. She heaved for air, rolling on her side in pain. Hot angry tears streamed from Erelith’s face, and began to try and get up with her one good arm in a mad attempt, refusing to lose that easily. She heard a laugh, and then felt a swift wave of pain in her gut. Erelith grimaced from the pain, the force of the kick rolling her on her injured shoulder.

“You got what you deserve.” The elf said, remembering Erelith’s injured leg, putting a hard foot to it. Erelith let out a cry of pain, feeling her first wound being torn from its stitches. The pain was surging its way through her entire body, and her chest heaved as she coughed up a little more blood. You can’t give up this easily she thought as she lay there, unmoved on the ground. She felt her eyes close slowly, and her breathing became slightly shallow in her chest. The elf stood over her, noticing the change and gently giving a small kick with her foot to roll Erelith over. She smiled upon seeing Erelith’s seemingly unconscious body roll over limply in the street and turned to leave her there without a second thought.

A low, wicked laugh could be heard as she turned, as Erelith gripped the elf by the leg, tripping them over onto the street as well. Erelith’s dark eyes gleamed with a vengeance on the elf. A cruel grin spread across her face as she grabbed one of her knives she’d carelessly dropped earlier and stabbed it into the elf’s leg to return the favor. There was a painful loud cry from the elf as they struggled for escape from Erelith’s hard grip. The pain was searing through Erelith’s wounded shoulder as the knife had made its way into the elf’s leg. Finally the elf thrashed its way out of her one-handed grip, limping away as fast as her good leg would carry her. Erelith had wanted to follow the elf, but knew she could hardly even get up from where she lay. With a struggle she gripped the other knife still lying on the ground, throwing it with all her might at the back of the elf limping away. She knew if she didn’t finish it off, the elf would only come back for her later. Erelith rolled herself over just enough to see if the knife had made it, watching as it pierced the elf’s backside. The elf felt with a loud cry face down on the ground, and lay unmoved.

Letting out a groan Erelith rolled to her backside in pain, cupping a hand around her wounded shoulder. It was bleeding quite fast, but all she felt she could do was lay there in the street, feeling the consciousness slowly slipping from her. She took no heed of anyone who might have been watching her, letting her head slump to one side as her eyes slowly closed.

The moment Erelith had left the room, Dimple felt conciously somewhere deep down that letting her leave alone, injured and possibly vulnerable to unfriendly prowlers may have been a mistake on his part. Struggling to ignore his unease, he turned to his companion, who seemed to be lost in thought, staring blankly through the doorway the Elf had been just a moment before. 'Let's go back downstairs,' he said. 'Fard will be wondering where we have got to.'
*space* Dimple made a notion to leave, and made his way across the wooden landing towards the stairs. A small click behind him, followed by matching footsteps told him that Haysend had closed the door of the guest room after him as he left. Soon, the all too familiar musical chatter of the crowd met their ears as they descended to join the main commotion. Dimple had not long to reflect upon the strange happenings he and Haysend had met that night, because he was immediately called upon by a group of regular lodgers to fetch some mugs of ale. *space* Dimple made his way through the crowd towards the counter, where, not unexpectedly, Fard greeted him with the regular, 'Hullo, Dimple! Packed this place is, tonight, ain't it?' Nodding his agreement, Dimple gladly received the mugs passed to him by the elderly hobbit, and made his way back across the inn to the waiting guests. The hobbits thanked him with approval and Dimple left, now seeking for a word with Haysend.
*space* As Dimple had went about his business, he had not paid attention to where Haysend had gone and they had become separated. Now, as he scanned the crowd, he could not spot sign or glimpse of him. He wondered at this. Haysend looked across at Fard, but it was apparent he had not noticed anything amiss, because he was now telling a pair of travelling Dwarves about some amusing event or other that had been brought about by his comical nephew. He's probably attending to some guest or other back upstairs, he decided dismissively, Or maybe he's gone to the stables. If he knew in truth that this was not the case, he would not have gone back to what he had been doing before so undisturbed, or indeed, have been able to have remained calm.
*space* The inn was a specially noisy place to be that night. Somewhere nearby, a man struck up a chord on this instrument others called for songs. As his voice rang to an oddly placed tune, people got up and danced. At least these festivities, Dimple thought, could not be disrupted.
*space* He was wrong, for at that moment, he heard a heart stopping scream from just outside the doorway of the inn. Immediate hush fell upon all, and eyes darted towards the door. Dimple, fearing the worst, ran flatout towards the sound and yanked open the door. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he beheld what was afoot, he nearly fainted.

[Creeepy. *shivers* There's no reason for any of our characters to disturb Erelith though ^_^ Great plot, too. Do one of you two (or both) want to change colour, so we can distinguish between those two different characters?]

Varsis stood afar from Dimple, in the corner of a shadow just as shocked as Dimple seemed. It was not unexpected though for him to come upon such a sight, for he expected nothing less to come of this. He looked to Dimple, who seemed not to notice his presence. He waited almost impatiently to see if Dimple would leave from where he stood, though was disappointed as the minutes passed and he was still there. Inaudibly he walked over to where Erelith lay, slipping his arms around her limp body, ignoring the presence of the hobbit standing a few feet from him. He forced a half-smile, saddened all this had happened, and he had not been faster to save her from it. He sat on his knees, holding her there in his arms not knowing what he should do.

“Oh Valar…” He whispered, “Don’t leave me Erelith.” He held her in his arms, tears forming in his eyes; there was no chance he’d reach her to Elrond in time even if he had a horse to ride. “You can’t let go now.” He pushed her silver hair back from her face; the expression across her made it look as if she were sleeping peacefully. His grey-blue colored hands were now stained with her fresh blood, and he looked to Dimple, seeing no other option but to stay at the Inn until she had recovered even a little. He let Erelith slip from his grasp, gently leaving her on the ground where she’d been laying moments before.

Varsis walked over and knelt down to the dead elf, pulling the knife out of its back. If only I’d been faster on my feet I could have stopped all this from happening. The thoughts that ran through his mind for the next few minutes were guilt-filled and flooded with anger and remorse. He lifted the dead elf up in his arms, steel grey eyes showing no sign he even felt bad the elf was dead. He took an idle horse someone had left just outside the Inn, and lifted the elf up on the back of it sending it swiftly on its way with a hit on the rear. He felt it was no matter that Hobbits should have been concerned of, and the less they saw of everything, the better. Erelith’s arms and head were rolled back and she lay limply in the arms of Varsis.

“Is there another way in?” He asked the Hobbit, reluctant to go in through the front. He stood there with her in his arms, towering over the hobbit. There was hardly any emotion in Varsis’ face, and he was attempting to not show it. He doubted she would make it through the night unless he was able to tend to her soon. There would be no grey ships to carry Erelith west, though he knew how much she would have wanted it. “Erelith, lasto an nin,” he spoke to her determined; “gero an hebin maeth.” His words seemed firm, as if they would have woken her up and everything would have been better. Oh Valar, please make it. “We need to get her inside.” He said to Dimple, hoping inside this was all just a bad dream. “I will pay you twice the amount of a room for your troubles.” He said, focused on the matter at hand rather than how much a room was.

Numbly, Dimple nodded in answer to the stranger. The cold night air bit into his face as he watched the unknown Elf stumble to his feet with Erelith in his arms, but he was unaware of his senses. He felt the feelings of premonition come home to him as he recalled the situation an hour earlier. He should have barred her way, never let her venture forth unguarded as she was. All his mind now was fixed upon her limp form as she lay unmoving. A wilted figure stained with the blood of her and her cursed foe, and a horror to his sight. Her still face gave no signs of what had happened. Dimple tried to compose himself as he tore his eyes away from her and led the around the back of the inn.

Silently, the stranger followed him as the hobbit led him towards a second entrance. He spoke no word, and Dimple felt altogether uneasy in his presence. Whoever he may be, friend or enemy, he was harmless for the moment, and seemed to care genuinely for the Elf that lay in his arms. Dimple was too tired to consider the possible consequences of leading a stranger into the inn after what had happened any further. He yawned.

It was indeed late, and soon the common room would empty as the guests made their way back to their rooms. He did not want to think that he had just witnessed the aftermath of a scene of brutal murder, or that bitter hatred had tainted the walls of the inn that night. Never had so many disturbances come to the inn in all the time he had been there than it had in that single day.

They reached the rear doorway, hidden from careless sight by a tangle of bushes and weeds that had grown there. Dimple took out the rusted key and brushed the cobwebs away. They seldom came around the back, and the door had not been touched for so long that the metal doorknob had become rusty. He carefully inserted the key, and pulled the squeaking door open. The Elf ducked and stepped inside with caution. The doorway was not one made for everyday access, and was almost three quarters his height. Dimple followed him and gently pushed the door shut behind him, reaching to turn the lock back into place. Without the dim light from outside, they were plunged into darkness.
*space* ‘Not to worry,’ said Dimple, ‘I’ll soon find the switch.’

This was, he supposed, some old storage room that was no longer used. He had not used the back way in so long that he did not recall having been in this room. Muttering, he stumbled across the room, accidentally knocking aside what he thought were empty cardboard boxes, until finally, he found the light switch. Relieved, he flicked it on.

The Elf was standing directly opposite him, and at his feet, he had laid Erelith. The seriousness of her injuries Dimple noticed clearly for the first time now that they were under full light. The day felt like a dream. What is to be done? He wondered to himself. Now where is Haysend when I need him the most?
[You're playing a different character I see. Someone new? I think you mentioned a third character somewhere...]

Through all of what had been going on outside Haysend had sat in the furthest, darkest corner the inn contemplating what was happening, he ran through it again she, Erelith, a Dark Elf, a stranger, far away, injured... All in one night, how did this happen. He was a simple Hobbit, tending to the needs of the people that came in, minding his own buisness, chatting to the people, doing what is needed of him, and this night changed that. He shook his head, and took note of the people around him. Erelith had left, Dimple was no where to be seen and customers were queueing up. oh dear he thought, what am i doing, i've forgotten all about this, being upstairs and all. Haysend picked himself up and dusted him self, he looked at the window, it was covered in dust so that he could see his reflection, he also spotted a flash of silver. Closing his eyes he thought he had gone mad, he must be tired. But he looked closed, using a cloth he had in his pocket he dusted until he could see, he put his hands to shade off the light from inside and stared out into the dark. His eyes scanned the outside, but he didn't see anything. His eyes lingered on one spot.

"...pale skin..." he muttered, a quick image of Erelith came into his head, and he looked even close as he saw a thin strip of light pass her even paler face, he noticed her eyes close and that was it. A tall shadow had blocked his view. He tried to put two and two together but it was all too much for Haysend. He thought back to the strange elf, the incident upstairs, the flash of silver, a blade perhaps? Erelith laying on the ground. What is happening, why now, in so little time.
Dimple was missing from the room, Haysend guessed he was helping Erelith, and so must I, his replied to himself. What might she need. He left the inn, to go and get as much as he could carry to help them.

Haysend stumbled out with two bottles of their cleanest water, a bowl in which he had put bandages in as many different shapes and sizes he had, portion of food, needles, twine, and the rest he had thought of. Now, where can i get out without being noticed. He decided going out through the door they use to take out the rubbish. He checked before leaving each room, he had to be even more careful.

He stood outside, and jogged round the side, being careful not to drop anything he was carrying, he had got to the front of the Inn, but they weren't there any more. She couldn't of ran out, she was too injured. He stood where he was and looked around, looking for any sign. There it was a small drop of blood, it was unusual and he walked towards it, deciding to carry on in that direction. Now, where to go? Theres nothing here?

"Or is there?" he thought aloud. He thought back to when Dimple and he had to come out this way. A Door. Yes, he remembered the back room, they used as storage, but it was out of the way that they didn't use it any more. He began jogging around the corner. Aha, there, he noticed the bushes and weeds had been disturbed. He reached out to brush the weeds off the very rusty door knob and tried it, it wouldn't budge. Locked. He banged on the door. "Dimple" he half shouted remembering he could be putting them all in danger, "Dimple, open the door, Haysends here. Come on. Quickly."

Starting at the sharp knocks seeming to be coming from outside the door, Dimple was interrupted from his thoughts. Now who could be outside this door at this time of night? He pondered to himself, And we hardly ever use this door, to be sure, or I don’t know things around here. The Elf stood stock still, surveying the door with sharp eyes. Dimple almost hesitated on his way to the door. How many surprises and disturbances could he take in one night? He felt certain that if he were visited by a rotten corpse at the entrance that very moment, he would not be overly shocked. After several painstaking seconds, he finally retrieved the key again and turned the lock. Then slowly, unsure, he wedged the door open once more, ready to take on the visitor, whoever they may be.

Dimple almost fell onto his companion with relief when he discovered that it was, after all, only Haysend. He had miraculously answered his call after all. When Dimple had once more closed and locked the storeroom door, he turned back to the room at large, uncertain of what Haysend’s reaction to the complicated situation would be. Dimple noticed that the Elf was unmoved, now kneeling down, and had showed no sign or sound that he had noticed someone just join them. Instead, he was cradling Erelith’s unconscious head in this arms, her damp hair splayed over his shoulder. As Dimple turned to Haysend, to notice that his cheeks had turned from flushed to pale white as he gradually took in the situation.

Dimple felt that an explanation was due. Steadily keeping his eyes away from the figure of Erelith, he tried to find some words. ‘I heard a scream from the common room, and rushed outside, to find…’ He did not want to revisit the scene, ‘Erelith unconscious, a still, maimed form lying some feet away, and him. He seemed to take to her as a friend, though I don’t know what he intends to do, and asked for a place to stay, away from commotion. So to his wishes, we took this back way. Hasn’t been used for an age.’ He broke off.

(holy hell this is long)

Varsis kneeled in front of Erelith, laying her gently on the floor. He listened to the Hobbit’s conversing as if he weren’t part of the room, smiling a little. Gently he pulled back some of Erelith’s shirt, tearing it along her shoulder to see the extent of the wound. He cursed himself in his mind for not being there sooner for her. Varsis smirked a little to himself, listening to Dimple finish and remained silent, although he knew they both were wondering about his intentions. It faded quickly when he realized he traced the outline of the deep wound.

Varsis took her gently into his grasp again, lifting her to lay her on the countertop. He tore the sleeve right off Erelith’s tunic in one movement throwing it aside. He continued to tear along the shoulder to the neck, folding what was left of it back. He took some of the cloth he’d tore from her sleeve and dipped it into the water jar sitting a little ways down from where he had rested Erelith. He dabbed the area with the cloth and began to wipe the dried blood clean from her pale skin.

Without warning there was a sudden cough and groan within the room. Erelith stirred along the countertop, head rolling over just enough to see Varsis standing there. She gave a weak smile and coughed again. “Always cleaning up after me, ‘eh?” She laughed lightly as a pain surged through her ribs. Varsis smiled back but said nothing to her at the moment, only continued to wipe her wound clean. Erelith’s head was spinning and her eyes grew distant as if looking far of at something. A pain surged through her chest, and she felt as if she wanted to gasp for air. Erelith’s gaze fell back to Varsis when she saw a glint of silver out of the corner of her eye. He had pulled a small needle and thread from his bag and was preparing to give her stitches. He’d hoped she wouldn’t be awake for it, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now.

“Oh no you –” Erelith started, moving away from him slightly. Varsis yet again said nothing, only held her down with a firm hand and moved to lace in the first of many stitches.

“A little help here?” Erelith said to the Hobbits, wishing she’d escape from the grasp of her friend. At this, Varsis scoffed lowly and smirked, piercing the needle into her skin. “Perhaps to hold you still, yes.” He gave a short laugh at her, lacing the first stitch. Erelith’s grasp tightened on Varsis’ arm as she felt the needle go in. “Thanks for ruining my shirt, by the way.” She said, gritting her teeth at the pain. “Your own fault,” Varsis replied without hesitation, eyes concentrating on lacing the stitches along her wound. She narrowed her eyes at him, irritated. Varsis let a scolding noise escape his lips and finished, “And you didn’t want me to follow you.”

“I’m just fine.” Erelith scowled at him, heaving at the pain in her ribs. “Sure you are.” He scoffed again, ignoring her protests to get free. “You know, you can never be easy about this, can you?” He stopped stitching her momentarily to shove her against the countertop to stay still. Erelith cursed lowly over the pain, and had nothing to say back to Varsis for the moment. She was glad he was here for her, though her words didn’t show it. “Thanks.” Erelith gave a genuine smile at him.

“It’s my job.” He said, jesting with her as to how many times he’d done this before. “If I’d been here sooner - ” Varsis started, only to be cut off quickly, “Don’t even start.” Erelith gritted her teeth as Varsis began to voice his guilt. Gathering strength Erelith forced herself up a little ways against Varsis’ grasp, only to curse again from the needle jabbing deeper than it should have. “Again,” Varsis said shoving her to the counter almost roughly. “Your own fault.” He pulled the needle from her shoulder and continued to finish off the stitching. Erelith felt like she might pass out from the pain surging through her body, and she stopped pushing against Varsis. Her head rolled over and she groaned from the pain. He let his hand up as he finished the last stitch pulling it through and breaking the needle off the thread as gently as he could.

Erelith’s eyes became distant, as if looking off across the room. “Melethron,” She whispered as she seemed to think he was in the room. Varsis didn’t even look behind him; he knew all too well she was starting to see things. Cursing loudly he tied off the thread as quickly as he could, trying to coax Erelith back to reality. “She’s going into shock.” He said to the hobbits, unsure as to what he should do next. He knew how to treat a wound, but not anything like this. He began to feel helpless as she laid there, a vacant look in her eyes. He knew there’d be a bad outcome if he didn’t do something fast. Putting a few fingers to her neck, he felt her heart racing, as well as she was starting to burn up. Her chest was heaving and struggling for a breath, and Erelith took hold of the edge of the counter. “Wake up Erelith.” He said holding a hand to her jaw so she would look at him properly. Her eyes still remained open, but she was barely there. Varsis began to curse repetitively in front of the hobbits, feeling so helpless. “Oh Valar…” He found himself saying, voice faltering as he watched her pass into unconsciousness.

The hobbits watched, dazed, as the Elf placed stitch after stitch along the edge of Erelith's wound. She groaned and spoke with effort. Seeing this, Dimple hurried forward and placed a hand on Erelith's shoulder, hoping to keep her still while the stitches were being done. For a few minutes, he listened to their struggled exchange, half comprehending and yet not comprehending their words. At last, as if all the strength that remained left in her had ebbed away, she finally drifted away again. He tore his eyes away from the helpless figure and said finally to Haysend, 'We had better get them out of this danky storeroom and find them a safe room to stay for the night.' She was already in shock and seemed already to have lost too much blood. If they did not get her some medical help soon, she was likely to die.

Getting to his feet, Dimple followed Haysend towards the doorway to at the outer end that, from his shrouded memory, he knew led into the main part of the inn. As they left, he closed the storeroom door gently behind him and turned the lock. Who knew when that room would be next entered? Behind them, the Elf man carried the wounded maiden, edging along the passageway slowly as to not disturb her. They came to a gap in the passage that opened towards the common room, from which the now dying noise of the evening chatter had been resumed. Dimple was relieved that none of the guests had been disturbed by the scream. Perhaps half of them had forgotten it already, he presumed, as he watched a gaffer clank his tankard down upon the tabletop with uttermost vigour.

He turned to the Elf and bid him cross the space with haste, and hoped no one would spot them. He did not what to think about the commotion it would cause if they were. The Elf darted up the wooden steps leading to the second storey with surprising agility, and Dimple followed closely at his heels, trying not to look as if he was possibly concealing something. Once upstairs, Dimple went in search of an empty room. The room they had been in before and met Erelith, at least a day now it seemed to him, even though it had only been a few hours in reality, had been taken over by a newly arrived guest. Many of the people who had been left in the commonroom were now making their way upstairs to their lodgings, and his strange companions would find it difficult to be passed by unnoticed.

No sooner had these things run through Dimple's mind, than he heard the light footsteps of a couple of men heading up the stairs, lighted candles blazing in their grip to light their way up the dim stairway. A few feet ahead, Haysend had been holding ajar the door of a room in the act of checking whether it was vacant, and now he gestured madly at Dimple and the Elf, still holding Erelith, to enter it. Breathing with relief that Haysend had found a room vacant, they ushered into it and closed the door behind them, just as the men reached the top of the stairs and made their way to their separate places to turn in for the night. At least... they thought at first that the room was empty. As Dimple, with his back turned, lit the candles near the side of the room to provide themselves with some light to see by, he heard a sharp intake of breath from the Elf standing next to him.
[Long= B) ]

(I think you should listen to “When you say you love me” – Josh Groban for this post :D *nods head*)

Varsis listened intently as the sound of two men conversing grew ever closer to the room they were now standing inside. His dark eyes looked around the room for any signs someone may have been staying in it. He spotted a small bag lying in the corner, something the hobbits would have overseen from their poorer vision. It lay there, almost completely concealed in shadow the top flap had been left open carelessly.

With only a few more moments to act, Varsis lay Erelith gently on the still made bed and went to the door, shutting it and holding a foot and hand strongly against it so they could not enter. It most likely looked quite strange at first how Varsis seemed to know the men were coming to this room. “Don’t make a sound.” He whispered to the hobbits, falling into an uneasy silence.

Sure enough, the door knob began to turn, and the man behind it tried to force it open as if it were stuck. “Strange,” the man said to his friend, “The door seems to be stuck.” Varsis held it steady, trying not to let his feet move along the old floorboards. The door handle shook a little more and then the force of the man was applied to it. “Leave it,” the second man said to his friend, “We can deal with it later. You don’t want to be paying for a broken door.” There was a sense that the man hesitated at the thought, and then followed his friend to another room. Varsis let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in as the footsteps faded into the distance down the hall. He locked the door to the room and went to dig through his bag again. He pulled out two sacks of coins and threw them to the hobbits, making sure they were aware of it at first. Varsis had kept to his word and paid the hobbits twice the amount of a room. “I hope that covers the amount well enough.” He replied in a low voice, watching as both the hobbits peered inside the small tied bags.

His gaze moved to Erelith, who lay completely unmoved from where he had rested her. His memory rested on how they’d first met, and how the seasons had passed since then. Varsis went to the edge of the bed and sat there reaching a hand out to move her hair from her pale face. There was a sheet lying at the foot of the bed, which Varsis pulled over Erelith to keep her comfortable. It was unknown to him if she had any other injuries besides her shoulder, and he grew red at the thought he should probably check.

If only you knew…Varsis pulled his hand back from hers, as if hesitating on the thought he should hold her hand. He let out an anxious breath; all he could do was wait now.

Melethron? Erelith said, seemingly moving from her bed to have a look at him. He stood at the side of her bed, holding her hand. This is all just in my head….she thought to herself, I’m only dreaming. Wake up, shake it off. She could feel herself throwing her arms around him, knowing it was all just pretend.

What I really mean...Varsis started in his head, but found himself faltering. He took her hand, embracing it in his own pale grayish colored one.

She pulled away to lock eyes with him. “I miss you so much,” she whispered to him. “As do I,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. She felt bitter tears welling up in her eyes, cursing whoever could have parted them like this. “I love you.” Erelith said suddenly, her eyes not parting with his.

Varsis felt shy about holding her hand while she rested there, and so he pulled it back and watched as beads of sweat were formed on her forehead. He put the backside of his hand to it, and felt her beginning to burn a fever. To love you is to suffer, but to not – I would be in the same place I am now. To avoid suffering I shouldn’t even love you, but then I would suffer of unhappiness for my eternity. Even a broken heart can keep beating. He scoffed at the thought of what clarity envy could give sometimes. Dipping a cloth in the basin of water near the bed, he wrung it just enough so it wouldn’t drip and set it across her forehead to keep her cool.

Melethron motioned to Erelith to look to the foot of her bed. Varsis sat there looking concerned for her, and leaned in to place a cloth on her forehead. “I think there’s someone who loves you too.” For the first time Erelith realized how much Varsis had been by her side, even if she didn’t think she needed it. How he had always been there for her when she was down and weary. Her forehead creased, realizing how much she’d over looked the fact he cared for her so much more than just a friend. “But - ” Erelith started to say to Melethron, looking back at him. “You’re never going to see me again. You can’t linger on that feeling forever, can you?” He questioned to her. Erelith felt as if she didn’t want to let go of her feelings for him, though he had a point – even if he was only part of a dream.

Varsis fought with himself, though took her hand again feeling as he grew slightly red from it. Rain began to beat against the window pane softly, and the clear light of the moon shone through to the room. I have always loved you and no matter what happens, or where your feelings lie, mine will always be with you. Varsis thought as he hoped she would wake from her sleep; and though Erelith lay there unmoved he felt her take his hand in a little tighter.