Gonâd had been chattering away for a good few hours about anything an
everything, when it came to Nob that he had absolutely no idea how far he
would be travelling with his companion, and where their final destination
would be. Every now and then he would attempt to distract Gonâd from his
narrative, but these efforts were in vain. Gonâd simply had to complete his
monologue on the state of the weather.
"-very sunny for this time of year, it really is good travelling weather, don't you think, Nob? Of course you do. It's just lovely. Why, look at the colour of my skin! Beautiful. O, it's all just so nice when the sun is shining."
"Mister-"
"Please, Nob, call me Gonâd. For that is my name, after all. I absolutely insist on it. My mother gave me my name, and therefore it should be used. After all-"
"Mi- Gonâd- I have a question for you!"
"Do ask it, then. Don't feel like you can't get a word in edgeways with me. After all, you are my companion, so I think you should have the chance to-"
"Wherearewegoingandwhatarewedoing?" Nob asked in one breath. It was probably the first time since they had set out that he had managed to complete a sentence.
"Pardon? You do speak fast, Nob. I knew a lad once. Sorry. What were you saying?"
"Where are we headed to?"
It was a simple enough question. However, in response to it, Gonâd had to give the most long-winded story. What followed seemed to have been a narrative of every single event from the last year or so, and Nob desperately tried to stay alert so that he could hear of their destination. As he listened, he found that what Gonâd had to say was actually rather interesting, as long as he kept up with the confusing patterns of speech the man employed.
"Innkeeping is not an exciting business," Gonâd began. "In fact it is rather dull. So I decided to take some time to have adventures and see everywhere else. Officially I was looking at other inns to find out how they're run and if anything is better than mine. Incidentally, any inn is pretty much the same. Ale, song, and fights. That is all there is to an inn. By the way, would you care to teach me the elf-maiden song later. We could light a fire and sing around it. That's what you always hear of in tales, is it not? The heroes crowd around a fire and sing songs, and I suppose everyone is interested to know what is under an elf-maiden's skirts. I had the chance of finding out, I thought, but the lass turned out to be a shaved man in a dress. There is an inn in Rohan, Nob, which is very interesting, not that a lad like you would want to know of the depravity. Ah- depravity. This time of travelling has been somewhat depraved for me. Shocking, the things you see! But I liked it. Oh yes, it was certainly great fun. I almost lost my beloved lute in a fight in an inn in Gondor, gambling, you know. Have you seen my lute? I shall play it by the fire when we light it. I actually did lose my horse, which was a pity. Do you know how long a walk it is from The Shire to Bree? O, I've journeyed all over these lands, yet I shall be so pleased to return home at last. In answer to your question, Nob, home is the Two Sacks Inn. A small town called Testé Kûl. It's on Langstrand. By the Sea. There is a beach. I don't suppose you've ever seen the Sea before. How I missed it on my journey. There is nothing like the sound of waves lapping the shore to send you to sleep. Well, other than the conversation of men in Gondor. Crashing bores, those folk. No idea of how to have fun if it doesn't involve a risky gamble. I nearly lost my precious lute that way. O, I told you that story. How I talk! Am I boring you to death?"
"I find your conversation most interesting," Nob said tactfully. "The sun is high, it is surely time for lunch now?"
"So it is! Nothing like eating outside, is there?"
They lunched on bread and cheese Nob had stolen from the kitchen before his departure and Gonâd told more stories, of his adventures, of the people he had met. Nob discovered his companion had a nasty habit of talking with his mouth full, and thus found himself constantly sprayed with food.
After they had eaten, Nob lit his pipe and listened to Gonâd play the lute. Between songs, there would be inevitable crude interjections of, "These fingers can work all kinds of magic, Nob, and not just with music." Fortunately, Nob managed to keep his lunch in, while battling the mental image.
It really was a beautiful day. And for once, Nob did not need to clean up, or pour ale. He felt unbelievably gay as he sat beneath the sun listening to the music. If adventures were always going to be like this, he would be a very happy hobbit.
"-very sunny for this time of year, it really is good travelling weather, don't you think, Nob? Of course you do. It's just lovely. Why, look at the colour of my skin! Beautiful. O, it's all just so nice when the sun is shining."
"Mister-"
"Please, Nob, call me Gonâd. For that is my name, after all. I absolutely insist on it. My mother gave me my name, and therefore it should be used. After all-"
"Mi- Gonâd- I have a question for you!"
"Do ask it, then. Don't feel like you can't get a word in edgeways with me. After all, you are my companion, so I think you should have the chance to-"
"Wherearewegoingandwhatarewedoing?" Nob asked in one breath. It was probably the first time since they had set out that he had managed to complete a sentence.
"Pardon? You do speak fast, Nob. I knew a lad once. Sorry. What were you saying?"
"Where are we headed to?"
It was a simple enough question. However, in response to it, Gonâd had to give the most long-winded story. What followed seemed to have been a narrative of every single event from the last year or so, and Nob desperately tried to stay alert so that he could hear of their destination. As he listened, he found that what Gonâd had to say was actually rather interesting, as long as he kept up with the confusing patterns of speech the man employed.
"Innkeeping is not an exciting business," Gonâd began. "In fact it is rather dull. So I decided to take some time to have adventures and see everywhere else. Officially I was looking at other inns to find out how they're run and if anything is better than mine. Incidentally, any inn is pretty much the same. Ale, song, and fights. That is all there is to an inn. By the way, would you care to teach me the elf-maiden song later. We could light a fire and sing around it. That's what you always hear of in tales, is it not? The heroes crowd around a fire and sing songs, and I suppose everyone is interested to know what is under an elf-maiden's skirts. I had the chance of finding out, I thought, but the lass turned out to be a shaved man in a dress. There is an inn in Rohan, Nob, which is very interesting, not that a lad like you would want to know of the depravity. Ah- depravity. This time of travelling has been somewhat depraved for me. Shocking, the things you see! But I liked it. Oh yes, it was certainly great fun. I almost lost my beloved lute in a fight in an inn in Gondor, gambling, you know. Have you seen my lute? I shall play it by the fire when we light it. I actually did lose my horse, which was a pity. Do you know how long a walk it is from The Shire to Bree? O, I've journeyed all over these lands, yet I shall be so pleased to return home at last. In answer to your question, Nob, home is the Two Sacks Inn. A small town called Testé Kûl. It's on Langstrand. By the Sea. There is a beach. I don't suppose you've ever seen the Sea before. How I missed it on my journey. There is nothing like the sound of waves lapping the shore to send you to sleep. Well, other than the conversation of men in Gondor. Crashing bores, those folk. No idea of how to have fun if it doesn't involve a risky gamble. I nearly lost my precious lute that way. O, I told you that story. How I talk! Am I boring you to death?"
"I find your conversation most interesting," Nob said tactfully. "The sun is high, it is surely time for lunch now?"
"So it is! Nothing like eating outside, is there?"
They lunched on bread and cheese Nob had stolen from the kitchen before his departure and Gonâd told more stories, of his adventures, of the people he had met. Nob discovered his companion had a nasty habit of talking with his mouth full, and thus found himself constantly sprayed with food.
After they had eaten, Nob lit his pipe and listened to Gonâd play the lute. Between songs, there would be inevitable crude interjections of, "These fingers can work all kinds of magic, Nob, and not just with music." Fortunately, Nob managed to keep his lunch in, while battling the mental image.
It really was a beautiful day. And for once, Nob did not need to clean up, or pour ale. He felt unbelievably gay as he sat beneath the sun listening to the music. If adventures were always going to be like this, he would be a very happy hobbit.
