Tilly is busy spreading new thresh in the common room when she hears the inn door open. She looks up, and a wide grin splits her face. "Imma Tattersoll ... by all the gods, it is you, isn't it?" She spreads her arms and pulls Immalaine into an unexpected embrace before the girl can take three steps into the inn. Tilly spots the Piersons over Immalaine's shoulder. "Where'd you find her?" she asks. "Where's she been?"
"Not us," chuckles Pierson. "She found us." Suzie Pierson nods, her grin matching Tilly's. "I was in th' market jus' now, an' I look up, an' who should I see with my old man but little Imma, like it'd been just yesterday she'd come t' see me at market, only she's taller now, a real woman, our little Imma, and not dead an' burned like they said; though, I'll tell you true, I never believed it. 'Show me the body, I says, didn't I say so, 'Show me the body afore I'll believe that.."
Pierson's hand on his wife's shoulder finally stops this torrent, and Tilly sees now a small, bespectacled man bustling in behind the party. "If we could save the reunions for later, and get this affidavit completed now," he mutters in a dry-leaves voice, "I would be obliged."
Tilly frowns the the others until Pierson explains, quickly, about how Immalaine needs to prove to the Bree folk that she is who she claims to be, so that she can get her farm back. "So we'd be needing a third witness to th' fact," he concludes, "in addition to Suzie and meself, t' make th' lawyers happy."
"Why 'course I'll sign and swear," Tilly repllies immediately. She turns and gestures them to follower her behind the counter. "Here, come t' the back room where there's better light an' a clean table." She pauses half-way to take Immalaine's hand, staring at the girl. "After all this time .. an' all growed up!" she exclaims, before continuing on into the back.
After having the wind half knocked out of her due to the hugs, and being fussed over like a child, Immalaine is quite red-faced when everyone goes to the back to sign the papers. She chuckles quietly at the notary's dry tone, though she is careful not to let him know. Turning to Rastellion, she gives him a quick hug, both for reassurance and happiness at his nearness. "Ye were right after all Rastellion." she whispers to him. "It were a lot easier than I thought it'd be t' find folk that remembered me here." Squeezing him, she turned to watch the proceedings with a small sigh of relief.
As the small company moves into the back room, the door opens again. A tall figure, broad shouldered, steps into the inn, his face and dark hair mostly hidden by the deep cowl of his cloak, pulled over his head. His attention is fixed on the backs of the small party; when the door shuts behind them, he quickly moves to sit in a shadowy corner of the tavern, well away from the direct path between back room and front door. After some time, a burst of laughter is heard from the back room, and the small group troops out again. "So, I'll be off then," mutters the notary and scurries away, tucking a few coins into his pocket and clutching his copy of the signed-and-sealed affidavit. The caped man darts a look at the group, then turns away, keeping his face in shadow, but ears cocked to catch their words.
Watching the man scurry away, Immalaine turns to Rastellion, just as Mrs Pierson looks out the window. "We should be headin' o'er to Whill's house now, he'll be expectin' us any time." Mr. Pierson nods, turning to Immalaine with a smile. "Come on Imma, and you too Rast. Lety cooks a fine meal, and they'll be plenty to go 'round." Imma looks back, her eyes briefly noting the stranger in the corner, but not paying any mind to him. "Well," she says low to Rastellion. "We did promise them we'd go. An' I imagine it'll be good t' get to catch up wit' e'ery one."
Rastellion grins at her. "Oh, we're definitely going... I mean to ask to hear a bit more about a certain kiss," he says... then takes her hand and pulls her out of the door after him.
Tilly stands in the entryway, waving at the group, then returns to the bar, humming to herself, though looking about with a slight frown as she tries to remember what she'd been doing before the unexpected interruption and amazing news of Immalaine's survival.
The two guards watch them head out. Not having been invited to dinner, they're at loose ends until their services are needed on the road for the return trip the following morning. "One o' Pierson's field hands told me where there's some cock fighting t'night. Finish yer ale and we'll head over." His companion shrugs. "Yeah alright." He downs his drink, stands, and heads toward the door. The first guard has paused, looking back and then past him, a frown on his face. "So, we goin'?" asks the other. "Hm? Oh .... yeah." The first guard shakes his head and turns to head outside. "What was it?" "Probably nothin'. Fellow in there, think he might've been the one I saw this mornin', out at the farmhouse, when I was with th' horses." Then he shakes his head. "But e'en if so, no matter. C'mon. Let's go find those dice."
After the men leave, Tilly looks around the now quiet room and, deciding to do some straightening up, begins to bustle around, cleaning off tables with a damp rag. Humming to herself, she brings the stained cloth back to the bar to rinse it in a bucket of lukewarm water, before hanging it on a bar near the fireplace to dry, going back out to see about tending the fire in the common room.
The large, cloaked man sits hunched over his drink for a minute or two, then throws off his hood and turns back toward the room. He greets Tilly with an easy smile and smooth voice as she stoops down at the hearth. "Well now, seems there was a bit of excitement just now. Nothing to cause you trouble, I trust!"
Tilly turns and looks at the man, smiling and bobbing her head at him. "Sure were, mister. And it weren't no trouble at all, rather something good! One of our own, a girl we'd thought dead, showed up today alive and well!" Tilly's eyes were bright with excitement, the words pouring out of her in what almost appeared to be a single breath.
He leans back in his seat, legs stretching comfortably in front of him. The firelight gleams off the rich, polished leather of his calf-high riding boots. "Runaway, was she? Or snuck off for a three-day to see some lad in Bree, perhaps?"
She shakes her head, turning back to poke the fire as she continued. "No sir, nothin' like that. We'd thought her dead in a fire, along with the rest o' her folk. Three years back it were that the Tattersolls' farm was attacked and burned, and all this time we thought little Imma had died in the flames too." Tilly wiped her forehead, leaving a small smudge of ash that she didn't notice. "Can I get you something to drink mister? Good a pretty decent ale in the back, or if ye prefer there's a good red wine. And the bread's fresh from the oven, if yer hungry."
The stranger's feature freeze in placea for a moment when Imma's name is mentioned, but the easy smile is back before Tilly turns to him. "A glass of red would be welcome on a chill afternoon," he agrees, "yes." When Tilly returns with the wine, he asks, casually, "So, what brought this young woman back, then, after such long absence and silence?"
Setting the glass down in front of him, she bustles over to check on the stew cooking at the hearth. "Well," she called back, "Seems her fella there discovered her old farm on the books down at the town hall in Bree. So, in order for her to get her farm back, she needs some people who knew her to sign some papers saying she is who she claims to be." She sounds excited over the prospect of Immalaine getting back the farm, her enthusiasm clear on her face as she speaks. "That girl deserves what's her and I'm glad to know she'll be getting it back." Tilly gives a quick nod, and turns back to her tasks around the tavern room.
The man scowls and his fist momentarily clenches. But his voice remains calm as he says, "Get her farm back? That's what she's here for, from Bree?" He sips his wine. "Must be excitin' then, havin' her come back so unexpected. They going t' be throwing parties for her all week, I suspect. That'll be good for business, mmmm?"
Her back turned to the man, Tilly isn't aware of the sudden scowl on his face and continues chattering with him. "Stew's almost ready, if you want some. And no, I reckon the celebrations will have to wait til she comes back. I know her and that fella of hers only booked the rooms for two nights, and then they're headed back out to Bree tomorrow. Though, I expect we'll be be seeing lots more of her after she gets the old farmstead back. It'll be nice to have her around too, her pa was a good man and we could always count on getting supplies for the inn from him, when he were alive."
The fellow gives a chuckles. "Well, just goes to show there can still be a bit of good luck in the world." He drains the rest of the wine from his glass and rises. "And thank you, but no. I've some matters I should be attending to. A pleasant evening to you." He places a coin or two on the table, sketches a half-bow, and strides toward the door, pulling the cowl of his cloak back over his head as he goes.
Tilly watches the man leave, before shrugging and heading over to the table to grab the coins up. She picks up the wine glass and heads to the back with it as she resumes humming to herself.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
