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Minas Tirith Forums » The Green Dragon » The Lost Inn (Page 4)
Author Topic: The Lost Inn
Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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Fëanáro did not look particularly flattered by her praise of his translation. After all, he would have been suprised if he had actually made a mistake in it. Surpised, and angry. He, Fëanáro, did not make mistakes, especially in things like this.

The squirrels, however, mystified him. The young lady looked normal enough, but he had heard that sometimes those who were sick in the mind showed no outward manifestations of their illness. Yes, she must be of that type. Squirrels did not speak, not even in Valinor.

He sat back in his chair a bit, not visibly trying to get away from her, but certainly stretching the distance between them.

"Yes," he said shortly, "I was quite certain that I had translated it correctly. It is not that terribly difficult, actually, despite the fact that your sounds do not translate perfectly."

He said it matter-of-factly, almost bored, as if he did feats like that on a daily basis.

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Roll of Honor Braeden Fireheart
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 1953

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If she had known the shack she saw on the outside would actually be the common room of an inn, Lóridrê would not have entered it. Yet had she known she would see two familiar faces within...?

Barufiniel's expression at her arrival was one of surprise and delight. Lóridrê looked like she had seen a ghost.

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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Across the room, the golden-haired Elf looked up as the door opened and another maiden entered. He saw her look of suprise as she recognized the maiden he had just finished sketching, and cocked his head slightly, leaning forward a bit in the hope that he could catch more of their conversation.

Like a cat, he knew that he was too curious for his own good, but his mother - who had doted on him almost to distraction - had refused to see that as a bad trait.

'It is through curiousity in the world that we learn of its greatest glories...' she would tell him. And he had believed her.

Standing and putting the parchment back in his pocket, he crossed the room, standing beside the table where the two maidens sat, attempting to ignore the piercing gaze of Fëanor.

'Ladies, is this seat taken?' he said in his soft voice.

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Roll of Honor Braeden Fireheart
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 1953

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Lóridrê had only just sat down beside Barufiniel, and only just glanced at the slightly-miffed expression of that very tall elf seated opposite the very odd looking human. She had only just gotten over the shock of seeing the younger version of her father at the other side of the room. Lóridrê was so thankful to have Barufiniel with her; one companion who could understand some part of what she was going through.

So who was this new visitor? He was softly spoken, or at least he had spoken softly to them then perhaps to appear different to the other males in the room. Lóridrê turned to Barufiniel, wondering if she knew the elf, then she remembered how Barufiniel had arrived in Middle-earth and desperately wanted to speak to her alone. Why did this golden-haired elf have to interrupt them now?

Lóridrê snuck another glance at her father. He was looking at her, but he didn't seem to recognise her. What age was he? Where were they? Was she sleeping?

Lóridrê stared at the table.

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Amárië
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The golden-haired Elf looked at the newcomer in dismay.

Have I interrupted something? he thought. But she has just arrived...

He clasped his hands behind his back.

'Forgive me,' he said in Quenya, 'I do not mean to intrude.'

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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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Barufiniel smiled at yet another newcomer. "You are welcome to this Inn," she said. "I just need to talk to my friend here first ..."

She turned to Loridre.

"Good to see you here!" she exclaimed. "But -" and suddenly she was uncertain "- have you been here before? This is a very strange place, you see, where all times can meet together. Here" - she nodded towards Feanor - "is the greatest craftsman of the Noldor ever. I mentioned the Silmarils to him, and he is just about to finish them. For that reason I need to ask you - when do you come from? When I left you this morning, we were both in Tharbad, waiting for the winter to go away."

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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The golden-haired elf looked a bit uncomfortable. It seemed that he was not wanted here, and he did not like to be where he was unwanted. On the other hand, he was curious of this place, and these people, and wanted very much to know more about what they had to say.

Yet...

He nodded.

'Forgive me, I am intruding.'

With a polite and courtly bow to them, he returned to his table across the room.

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Hamfast Gamgee
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Whitesnake took a look around the rapidly expanding table. To be honest, he felt that the most interesting of the characters he saw was Feanor. Well, it was no contest really. The other Elves might have things of worth, but this was Feanor, the creator of the Silmarils.
A brilliant Elf in some ways, someone who had knowledge and skills of craft which Whitesnake had to admit he wasn't in the same league. But not so brilliant in one or two other ways. Whitesnake pondered if a mutually profitable deal was possible here. His boss wouldn't like it, but, never mind. He would sort that out later.
So, he approached Feanor and said, 'Mr. Feanor, I presume? I'm a great admirer of yours. Well, from the future really. The creater of the Silmarils, the greatest living works in history and the swearer of such steadfast oaths. Your deeds will live in memory for all of time. However, if a lowly mortal could speak to you if only for a short while, I might have some useful information for you.'

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Roll of Honor Braeden Fireheart
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 1953

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All times can meet together? Lóridrê's memory flashed back to something Kelvatano had told her... But when the realisation that she was in company with the great Fëanáro hit her, Lóridrê suddenly became all the more uncertain. Yet he was still to finish the Silmarils, Barufiniel had told her. That would mean he was yet to show his violent side. Could she then feel less intimidated? Despite loving one of the Noldor - one who had held Fëanáro in high regard, if only for his craftsmanship - Lóridrê still kept some of her father's prejudices. Yet if it hadn't been for Fëanáro's sons, Naróbe would never have met Olsari, and Lóridrê would never have been born.

She glanced back at her father at the other side of the room. Could he possibly know her? She was still a child when he passed, just after Beleriand fell. Could she talk to him? Could she warn... No. Just as speaking to Fëanáro about any of his deeds (past, future) could change history. Lóridrê wondered how much he had been told already, as she turned back to speak to Barufiniel.

"Tharbad? Yes, I was there. But it was afternoon when I came to the marshes - Swanfleet - and I found this place looking oddly among the trees." Lóridrê whispered, "Is this like the portal you spoke of? Have we come to a world between worlds? Or is just a time between times...?" Her voice trailed off, and she looked towards the golden-haired elf who had returned to his table. "This is too confusing."

[ 03-26-2008, 01:23 AM: Message edited by: Braeden Fireheart ]

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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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"A world between worlds was indeed the first thing I thought of," Barufiniel answered. "A kind of waiting room between portals, where you can leave by other portals - I've read of another such place. Only here you cannot leave by any other portal than the one you entered by. So perhaps this is only a time between times."

She pondered what Whitesnake had told her earlier.

"And it really is independent of both time and geograhpy," she said. "I found it earlier in the day than you did - and I found it in a small valley betweeen two low hills somewhat west of Tharbad, not at the Swanfleet marshes."

[ 03-26-2008, 03:12 AM: Message edited by: Varnafindë ]

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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Fëanáro looked at the human through narrow and uninterested eyes. He felt rather like sneering, but restrained himself, simply leaning back a little in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest and resting his booted feet on the table.

It was strange, really, how ungainly they were - these second children of Eru. They lacked the grace of movement and of speech of the Eldar, and appeared rather like beasts. But it could speak, and had the nerve to address him.

He quirked an eyebrow as he listened to what this 'Whitesnake' had to say without comment, then remained silent for a long moment after he had finished, when his sneer intensified.

'What possible information could you have for me? And at what cost? Leave me be.'

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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Listening to the words of the two ladies who spoke, the Golden-haired Elf felt himself terribly curious.

A place between worlds - between times?

He blinked.

Fascinating.

He stood, pausing for a moment before crossing the room again.

"Please, forgive my intrusion," he said in educated Quenya, his voice soft, but very refined, "but I must speak. Both of you have stated that you found this place from distinctly different locations? I did, as well. I was wandering the hills near Taniquetil, when I came across this inn and stepped inside." He paused. "If you do not consider it too presumptous, may I ask from where and when you came?"

[ 03-26-2008, 08:47 AM: Message edited by: Amárië ]

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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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Taniquetil? Barufiniel wondered. That's not a place my father told me about having seen. But he did tell me about it, I'm sure ... Yes, in the old tales of Valinor!

This elf came from Valinor? Well, so did her great-something-grandaunt, that she met a few minutes ago. In this place, anything could happen. And this handsome young man had the aunt's hair color, she noticed. Perhaps he was another Vanya. Or perhaps even a descendant of Finarfin?

"We come from Middle-earth," she answered. "We live in the year 2758 of the Third Age. Are you one of those who left Middle-earth to go back to Valinor? I don't know how much you would know about Middle-earth geography in the Third Age - but for what the information is worth, Tharbad is situated just north of Rohan. Which again lies between Gondor and the old kingdom of Arnor."

She smiled at him.

"If that means anything to you at all."

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Amárië
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Citizen # 5498

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The Golden-haired Elf frowned.

'I fear it means very little, my lady. I have never been to Middle-earth - I was not yet born when the Host of the Noldor crossed the sundering seas. My father accompanied the Host of Fingolfin, although my mother stayed behind. I have spent my whole life in Tirion, with my mother and grandfather.'

He listened to her, his frown deepening.

'Forgive me, I do not understand what you mean by 'Ages.' I was born in the First Year of the Sun, and it is the Eightieth Year of the Sun in my land right now...' he paused. 'Although if you come from such a distant year, you must be from far in the future. Are you Noldor, Vanyar or Teleri? I admit that I am baffled, for do you do not seem to me to have the features of any single race.'

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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[ooc - SORRY, computer problems this morning]

[ 03-26-2008, 09:40 AM: Message edited by: Amárië ]

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Roll of Honor Braeden Fireheart
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 1953

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How terribly odd. Lóridrê wondered back to what Kelvatano had told her – his mysterious meeting with... who was it now? His grandfather? Lóridrê had passed the story off as some kind of dream. She regretted now not taking him seriously.

The golden-haired elf had returned. Taniquetil? In fair Valinor? Where her mother should be now... Lóridrê smiled. Then frowned again as she glanced at her father. She would need to find out from where and when he came to this inn, if only to sate her curiosity.

But first, this stranger. Barufiniel had answered his questions, and asked one of her own. Yes, what time was it for him? And had he taken the same journey as Olsari? So many questions, yet she had barely spoken. Lóridrê listened to his answers:

I have never been to Middle-earth... it is the Eightieth Year of the Sun in my land right now...

Lóridrê smiled. She was so much older than he. She didn't know why this relieved her.

Are you Noldor, Vanyar or Teleri?

Lóridrê couldn't be sure if the question was directed at Barufiniel only. But, oh... How much information she knew now about her own heritage. Most of her blood came in the form of the Nandor; a race that perhaps this elf did not know. The rest was a mix of elven, human and maia. Lóridrê decided that second half should remain secret for now.

She turned to Barufiniel, and then answered. “You would not know of my heritage. I was born and raised into the Laiquendi, the green elves. They were Nandor, the Telerin elves who did not make the Great Journey to your land. So I am unfortunate to not know the wonders of Taniquetil, other than the stories I have heard.”

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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The golden-haired elf looked at her curiously, his eyes gleaming with the light of Aman.

'Not the people of Elwë, but others?' he asked carefully. 'I had heard that there were others who did not obey the summons, but their reasoning is beyond my understanding...'

He furrowed his brow, an bit uncomfortable with the idea.

Suddenly he stood, making a deep bow to them.

'Forgive my manners, my ladies. I am Finamatírë, of the House of Arafinwë.'

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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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"Arafinwe?" Barufiniel exclaimed. "But I am of his house, too! I am Varnafinde - Barufiniel in the Sindarin tongue - daughter of Rameldir. On my mother's side I'm a mixture as well, but my father's mother was the daughter of Angarato, Arafinwe's son."
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Amárië
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'I know of Angaráto,' he said slowly. 'He is my father's brother, although I never met him. Perhaps you know my father? He is Findaráto, the eldest son of Arafinwë.'
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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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"You are the son of Findaráto?" Barufiniel asked. "But then we are close kin! We are first cousins - let me see - first cousins twice removed. But I'm afraid I don't know your father. I know about him - he died several thousand years ago. And I've got a book with a story about him - he talks to a mortal woman about the fates of Elves and Men. It's a beautiful story."

For a few seconds, Barufiniel looked like she was dreaming. Then she focused on him again.

"But I do know your mother!" she said. "I know her a little bit, at least. I met her in here - she was sitting right over there less than an hour ago. I'm not sure exactly when she came from - but she said that her husband never met his son."

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Amárië
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Finamatírë's face darkened as she spoke of his father's death, and he clasped his hands tightly behind his back.

He did not know it would be possible to feel grief for a father he had never met, and yet this news affected him deeply. He had always heard so much of his father, and he hated hearing that he had met such a dark end.

'These are evil tidings,' he said softly. 'Evil tidings that are the result of the Morgoth and his marring.'

He stopped, and looked down for a moment, his expression softening a bit as she spoke of his mother, then he looked up sharply.

'I hope you did not tell my mother of what befell my father?'

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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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"I'm afraid I had to," Barufiniel admitted. "She asked, you see, I couldn't really avoid the question ... And he died an honourable death. He died defending a friend - a mortal, actually. He only spent a short time in Mandos and then went back to his family in Valinor."

She hesitated, wondering whether she should tell about Finrod's oath to Barahir.
But glancing over at Fëanor, she decided not to speak about oaths.

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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Finamatírë's face darkened, and he sat slowly in a chair beside the other, more quiet Elf. He said nothing for a moment.

'And still, despite my father's honour, these tidings are evil. What is this place, that friends must be protected with such a sacrifice? I suppose it is the Morgoth and his minions who threatened? I have sat at the feet of Manwë and heard his counsels. I have listened to the words of the Valar, and read their judgements in times and deeds past. And still I do not understand how they can allow such evil. Why do they not act?'

He sighed, and ran a hand over his long, blonde hair that was falling out of the queue. He looked very much like his mother, but in his intense blue eyes there was that of his Noldor blood, as well.

'I do not question the wisdom of the Valar. That is not my place. And yet sometimes I wish that I could understand their reasons for letting things happen as they do. For while I know that they would never do anything that would lead us to evil, I fear that our patience for Darkness is not as strong as theirs.'

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Roll of Honor Varnafindë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4097

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"They did act in the end, though," Barufiniel said, deciding that she should indeed tell him something of the future. "Some Elves tried to sail back to Aman to petition for the Valar's help, but Valinor was closed to them, and their ships never found it.
But finally one arose who could petition on behalf of both the First-born and the Second-born, because he was of the blood of both of them. His name was Eärendil."

She realised that she was getting into the style of the lore her father had recited to her.

"His father was a mortal man, strong and mighty," she continued, "and his mother was the daughter of Turukano, son of Arafinwë's brother.
His wife also was of both races, descended both from Elwë, Olwë's brother, and from the man whose life Findaráto, your father, saved.
Eärendil was allowed to carry his petition into Valinor - but never to return to Middle-earth - and his petition was heeded."

She prudently omitted the part about 'a Silmaril on his brow'.

"The host of the Valar, the Elves of Aman in it, came to Middle-earth and fought against Morgoth and his minions," she went on.
"This war - the War of Wrath - was fought at great cost to Middle-earth, though. Many lands were broken down, and now rest under the sea.
But Morgoth was finally thrown down and cast into the Void."

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Amárië
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 5498

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'But why so long, and after so much suffering?' he countered, his eyes pained. 'Why did they let so much evil occur before they acted?'

He ran a hand through his hair, obviously uncomfortable with his own thoughts.

'I perhaps am guilty of evil myself, for questioning them so. But why did they let Melkor free in the first place? Why did they show Melkor - who has done irreperable and lasting evil to Arda - such mercy, and yet withhold mercy from the Exiles? Are they, the Children of Eru, to be held to higher account than one of the Valar?'

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