The Golden Perch Inn

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

The crisp November wind gently blew passed the trotting paint stallion, the rider sitting astride his back gazing at the new land that was laying out before her. She pulled her steed to a halt at the entrance way of the small building that was built into the hillside, letting out a deep sigh before climbing off of him.

"We've done it this time, Aergolas."

The horse pawed at the ground, nipping at her grey cloak that was pulled tightly around her. Taking hold of the reins from his bridle, Aeron led the horse around towards the back of the building, smiling when she saw the stables.

"May as well stay for a while beings we're here, right?"

The paint shook his light chestnut and white mane, snorting at his rider. Chuckling, Aeron patted the side of his chestnut and white neck, leading him into the relatively warm stables. She led him into one of the empty stalls at the main end, removing his tack. Aeron smiled to herself behind her mask at the other two hobbits in the stables, pulling out a small brush from Aergolas' saddle bag, giving him a good brush down. Finishing up, Aeron closed and locked the gate to the stall, giving his muzzle one final scratch before exiting the stables, nodding her head in acknowledgment to the other two hobbits in the stables as she left.


Walking around to the front of the Inn, Aeron stepped inside, closing the door quickly so she didn't let any of the heat escape from inside the cozy room. Her eyes scanned over the relatively empty room, save for a few hobbits. The heat inside the room felt extremely good to her, not having felt as much warmth in quite a long time. Deciding to take up residence at the bar on one of the stools sitting there, she couldn't help but look at the small room with curious eyes, as if she had never seen such a sight before in her life. Her grey eyes landed on the hobbit standing beside a table for just a moment, before turning away to look at the wall in front of her. Truly she was an anti-social being and didn't mean to be, although that came from roving the wilderness of Middle Earth and being away from civilization for too long.

[Folwren]

Mr. Burrower barely noticed when the young hobbit entered the common room. He acknowledged the cold gust of wind with a slight hunch of his shoulders and that was all. But he could not very well ignore the young lady when she came and stood just by his chair, explaining that she had not meant to bring in the cold air. He turned his head and peered up at her.

“Well, why don’t you sit down and join me,” he offered. “You looked fair frozen to bits. Have you come far?”

--

“Ah, just as I thought,” Dick said to himself with satisfaction. Two new customers arrived, one after the other, in less than five minutes. He poked his head into the kitchen door and alerted Rowan and Primrose of the news and then returned to the bar where the woman sat.

“What can I get for you today? Something that will warm you up after that nipping wind, maybe? A pot of beer, perhaps? We have the finest you’ll find in a hundred miles!” That may have been an exageration, but it was certainly the finest beer she could find in the Southfarthing.

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Pulling down her forest green mask, letting the material hang from her neck, Aeron smiled at the hobbit standing in behind the bar, chuckling at his words.

"A pot of beer sounds quite inviting, my friend, I believe I'd like to try some."

She continued afterwards to examine and survey the inside of the hobbit hole, thoroughly enjoying being in a different setting other than the barren lands known as the Weather Hills. She even enjoyed it more than she did the Prancing Pony; the feeling was more homely and comforting.

[piosenniel]

Penny

‘Why thank you, Mister . . . ummmm...’ Penny’s brow furrowed as she realized she had no idea what the gaffer’s name was.

‘Burrower,’ the old fellow offered, filling in the trailing silence. ‘Mr. Burrower,’ he went on smiling as he nodded toward the empty chair across the small table. He waved a hand at one of the servers, motioning her over.

‘Oh, and I’m Penny…Penny Noakes…from Pincup.’ Settling her cloak over the back of the chair, she settled herself on the well worn seat.

‘Some sweet hot tea would be wonderful,’ she said as the server stood by the table, an expectant look on her face. Penny’s tummy grumbled, protesting its empty state; it had been a long time since breakfast. ‘Oh, and could you bring us some hot, buttered toast and maybe a pot of jam…and a plate of nice, crispy bacon?’

Penny grinned at the gaffer. ‘You’ll have a bit with me, won’t you, Mr. Burrower?’ She turned back to the server, ‘Could you make that for three, Miss? My auntie should be in soon. She’s just settling our pony with your stabler.’ Penny glanced toward the door, wondering what was taking her aunt so long.

[Folwren]

“A pot of beer, then, it is,” Dick said. He swept a mug from beneath the counter, whipped about, filled it, and finished it off without spilling a single drop of foam. He turned about to lay it before the young woman. He watched, rubbing a towel beneath his hands, while she took a sip of beer. “Eh, uh…have you been in these parts afore now?” he asked. “I doubt that I’ve ever seen a girl ranger before ‘round here, begging your pardon.”

--

Rowan nodded her head in response to Penny’s requests and turned about to repeat it to Primrose in the kitchen. Old Mr. Burrower sat as comfortably as ever across from Penny.

“I’ve already eaten this morning, but I won’t turn down a second breakfast,” he said. “Have you and your aunt come all the way from Pincup today? Mighty far piece, aint it? Are you visiting some folks and kin in this area?"

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron had to admit; this beer very well could have been the best to ever pass between her lips and slide down her gullet, albeit it was the first she had had in ages. She looked up at the hobbit when he spoke to her, sitting the mug down on the hard wood counter. She chuckled at his question, giving him a sheepish smile.

"Nay, I fear my curiosity got the better of me, this time. I've never seen the wonderous sights of the Shire before, and after tending to some business in Bree, I just could not help myself."

Truly the Shire was a wonderous place for her to visit; she absolutely loved what little she had the privilege of seeing thus far. The young woman took another sip of the excellent tasting beer, smiling in satisfaction.

[Flame of Udûn]

Walking quickly Arandon wandered the streets of Stock making for the Golden Perch Inn. The chill of winter was beginning to bite and he pulled his cloak tighter in a vain attempt to stave off the cold. As he approached the Inn he quickly and almost without thought made a mental note of it's characteristics a technique he had long ago learnt could very easily save lives with his being especially important amoung them.

He quickly mad his way to the door and noislessly opened it ducking as he entered within seconds he had noted all possible exits and where in the room the best seat was.
Without acknowledging the existence of any other being he made his way over to a small table in the corner where he sat silently puffing on his pipe whilst always keeping a careful watch on the others who were around him.

[Folwren]

“Ah, it’s from Bree you’ve come, is it?” Dick said, leaning his elbows on the countertop. “I’ve never been out that far. Are people as strange there as they say they are? I’ve heard some mighty strange tales of happenings in Bree, though not too many years back one might’ve said the same thing about our own Shire. Still, they are Outsiders…begging your pardon,” he added, realizing that he was speaking to one of those very same outsiders. “I didn’t mean to imply -”

His words broke off when another person entered the room. It was a man, apparently, but the hood was pulled up close over his face and Dick could not see what manner of man he was. The stranger took a swift glance about the room and then with a few, long strides, he took a seat in the darkest corner of the room and produced a pipe from somewhere within the folds of his cloak. It became immediately clear that he wished to see and not be seen or noticed.

“If you’ll excuse me…” Dick said, narrowing his eyes a little. He quickly passed about the edge of the counter and approached the newcomer doubtfully. He did not like shady characters and this was most certainly a shady one.

“Good morning, sir,” Dick said, coming to stand directly before him. “How can I help you?”

Primrose came out of the kitchen just as Dick was crossing the room to speak to the man. She put one hand on her hips and clicked her tongue. “He never did like it when people don’t say a proper ‘how d’ye do’,” she commented. She turned to Aeron. “It simply isn’t proper. Hullo. Can I get you anything to eat? It’s not right to drink beer on an empty stomach, you know. But I don’t believe it’s good to do anything on an empty stomach.”

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon had noticed the barman looking at him during his conversation with a young female ranger, he carefully examined him as he wandered over. He seemed unexraordinary in appearence. The halflings it was said were a jolly and carefree bunch but he always found they were distrusting of him, he had certainly never thought they were overly warm to him on his journeys through the Shire to the Ered Luin. He allowed his mind to wander and thought of the mountains it was always where he felt most at home he supposed it all started when he was little and he would explore the Emyn Uial at the foot of which he had lived round 5 leagues from the northern shore of Lake Nenuial.

He was interrupted from his daydreaming by the barman whom he had totally forgotten about 'Morning' he muttered back only half returned from his daydream.

'I have walked many leagues and require a place to rest, have you any rooms avaiable?' His mind then turned to food having not had a decent meal for the last 10 days, he asked as kindly as he could 'Is it possible to order a plate of food and a pint of Ale?'

[Folwren]

That was more like it! Dick thought, nodding to himself. He thought that perhaps if the man was willing to be a customer he might not be so bad after all.

"Yes, we've got rooms available, and we have food, too, of course. I'll get you something directly."

"Prim," he said, bustling up to the counter. "See that the gentleman in the corner gets something to eat." He grabbed another mug and began to fill it.

"Just as soon as I get this 'ere young lady's order, then I'll go," Prim replied. "You did want something to eat, didn't you?" she asked Aeron.

Dick 'humphed' and then bustled off again to take the ale to the stranger in the corner. "The food will be coming directly. You've come many leagues, you say. What's your name?"

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

The young ranger found her attention being pulled from one halfling to the other; though she never directly looked at the man who had entered. Shady character he was, but she recognized him to be of the Dunedain same as herself, for he wore the same star brooch that was clasped at her own neck. Though this did not cause her to let her guard down, her senses heightened to become more alert than she had been before the Dunadan's entrance.

"A few pieces of buttered toast with perhaps a few slices of bacon, if it's not too much trouble, friend."

Aeron gave the female hobbit a smile, folding her hands in front of her on the countertop. "But I don’t believe it’s good to do anything on an empty stomach.” The young woman chuckled to herself, resisting the urge to shake her head at the hobbit. It was one of the things she found amusing about the halflings; their love for food. Bottomless pits, she called them, though only in jest.

[Flame of Udûn]

He watched as the barman walked up to the bar he considered once again the female Ranger only a very small number of women who became rangers and he had never met one of them he was very curious about her.

'Thank you I am most grateful I've not eaten for days not properly at least my name is Arandon though many of the Rangers have decided to call me Faerandir the Ghostly Wanderer though it is a name I prefer not to use.' In a manner he hoped sounded offhand he added ' tell me what do you know of the female ranger at the bar' he hoped to conceal his curiosity at what even to his eyes (which had seen much) rather piqued his interest.

[Folwren]

"I don't know a thing about her, actually," Dick said. He turned to look towards Aeron, following the ranger's hooded gaze. "She just came in a few minutes before you. Never seen her before, and I didn't get around to asking her her name. I thought you might know her, as I thought you were one of them rangers, too, but maybe not. I've been wrong before." And he turned an even more suspicious look on the dark figure, if that were possible. If he wasn't a ranger, what was he? Why was he here? Was he dangerous?

"Why do they call you the Ghostly Wanderer? You're not a ghost, are you? You're as firm as the rest of us, surely."

--

Primrose

"A few pieces of buttered toast with perhaps a few slices of bacon, if it's not too much trouble, friend."

"Tis no trouble at all, I assure you," Primrose replied. "It's my job," she added, half under her breath as she pattered away to the kitchen. She deftly speared two pieces of bread and put them over the fire to toast. Before coming out to the common room she had finished frying up a frying pan full of bacon, and of this generous stock she drew out four thick and crispy slices and laid them on a plate. She reached across to the toasting fork, plopped the toast onto the plate and buttered the pieces generously.

"Here you are! Hope it is to your liking." She leaned her elbows against the counter while Aeron took the plate and began to eat. For a few seconds, Primose watched her without saying anything. "Mr. Boffin seems to be getting along capitally with yonder fellow. I saw you looking at him a few moments ago. Do you know him?"

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

After swallowing a mouthful of the deliciously buttered toast, the young female glanced out of the corner of her eye to the dark corner in which the strange man sat, studying him for a few moments once more. She slowly turned her head back to the food before her, taking a small sip of her beer. Eyebrows furrowing, more so with curiosity than frustration at not knowing the man's identity, Aeron looked at Primrose, shaking her head.

"Nay, I do not, which makes him that much more peculiar."

She spoke more quietly now, still trying to focus in on the stranger's conversation with Mr. Boffin. It was not as odd as it seemed though, the young ranger thought quietly to herself, because even she had not met all of the remaining Dunedain, save for the couple she had crossed paths with in the wilderness or grew up around in the Angle. This did not lessen her wariness of the man, however, it made her even more aware and alert; if that were possible.

[Flame of Udûn]

As the Hobbit spoke he noticed the gaze of the young ranger pass over him and could tell she was wary 'It is always the same whenever anyone meets me' he mused, his ways of acting always put people on their guard but that was how he prefered it he never had any wish for friendship and always found himself happier when alone.

He chuckled at the Hobbits question 'No i can assure you I am no ghost the name comes from a number of things but i suppose my love of solitude is highest amongst them along with my ability to hide myself from all but the keenest eyes when I have need.'

[Folwren]

"Indeed," Dick said, with a something like a sniff. "We hobbits aren't bad at disappearing when we need to, either. Usually you great big folk are so loud in coming that we can make off in a twinkling. Even if I am an innkeeper and may be better fed than most, I myself am not bad at avoiding people when I wish."

His words were met with another of the ranger's silent pauses. Dick felt he had been rude, and although he wasn't in a very obligatory mood and although he did not happen to like this particular customer very much (his dark appearance and quiet evasiveness put him on edge), he sought immediately to amend it.

“I do hope you find some company in there round abouts that you don’t mind being with. As my grandmum always used to say, ‘Them as sit by themselves in a corner wither away until they die by themselves.’ Why, I once knew a hobbit, Toby Harfoot, by name, who used to go off fishing all by himself. What came of him, no one quite knows, but one day he never came back. Some say a fish pulled him right into the river and he drowned. I say, it would never have happened if he hadn’t stuck around by himself all the time. It’s not healthy for a body, I say. Why don’t you come over and meet the lady ranger?”

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon mused on the words of the Hobbit before answering
'Solitude is only dangerous for those unable to keep themselves well. Yet there is great wisdom in your mother's words for one cannot spend a lifetime alone and I do, when able return to the encampments of the Grey Company away in the north and it is not only to recieve orders and give information that I go.'
He took a deep breath before continuing 'I think perhaps that my earlier words were somewhat ill considered for it is not that I love solitude but it is more that I choose to be alone for reasons I refuse to divulge.'

The ranger paused once again taking great care to consider his next move, always he was cautious ever wary of what result his actions would have. He once again let his gaze fall upon the ranger at the bar then he spoke aloud his thoughts 'Too often have I allowed caution to govern my movements and though it has kept me well enough it has also led me to miss many an oppertunity. So yes I shall go and meet her for though I have heard tales of female rangers never has chance allowed me to meet one.'

[Folwren]

Ah! Very good, Dick thought, but all he said aloud was, “Come along, then, and I’ll introduce you.” He turned and began to lead the way even before Arandon, of Faerandir, stood up. Half way across the floor he realized he didn’t know the woman’s name. Oh, well, it didn’t matter much.

“Ma’am,” he said, stopping by her elbow and looking up at her. “I’d like to introduce Arandon, sometimes known as Faerandir, the Ghostly Wanderer.” He turned and indicated Arandon with his hand. “Unfortunately, I don’t know your name, so you’ll have to give it yourself.”

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron gazed up curiously at the mysterious man who had approached her along side the innkeeper. She pushed her finished plate away from her, letting her eyes examine him more closely. His eyes said he was far older than he appeared, he had seen much more of the lands than she had.

"Well met, master Ranger," she hesitated for a moment, still wary of him. "I am Aeron daughter of Daeradan. How fairs your travels?"

Even if he was a suspicious character, that did not stop her from being polite. She began to silently give thanks to the innkeeper, this was a chance to sate her curiosity of his identity, albeit she did not expect too much from him, though.

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon was somewhat uncertain of how to act he was rarely in the company of women and the fact she was a ranger made him even more uncertain.
'Greetings Aeron, my travels go neither well nor ill for I have no specific purpose at this time.'

Arandon paused carefully examining the Ranger, he could tell from her eyes and the smoothness of her skin that she was no more than 30.
'But what brings you here to the edges of the Shire for surely there can be no need of a ranger here.'

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

"I could ask the same of you, master ranger." She gave him a small smile, turning a little on the barstool to face him better.

"Curiosity; no matter what I think of it, it is ever unsatiable."

It would be the death of her one day, no doubt. Aeron was an adventurer and yearned to see the rest of the world one day, if she could. Averting her eyes back to his face, Aeron became rather interested in finding out what had brought him here as well. She knew, however, if she had inquired the reason as to why he was in the Shire, he would never fully give her the reason; or would probably ignore the question all together. She would have done the same had her reason been more urgent.

[Flame of Udûn]

'If you wish not to answer a simple question then please say so and do not play games. I have little to tell, I was summoned from my previous mission away in darker lands than these and given a task that was to take precedence. Yet of this task I am to tell no-one, and I am afraid therefore that on this subject your curiosity must go unsated.'

Presuming the previous matter of conversation closed he decided to move past the trifling question of why she was there (for he knew that guard on the shire was being increased though he had not been informed of Rangers being sent within its borders save himself). Instead he resolved todiscover how it was a woman had come to be a ranger for though not unheard of it was exceedingly rare.

'Let us perhaps talk of things not so shrouded in secrecy (although I shall admit that there is little i do not keep secret) and turn to a subject of which I am greatly interested how does a young women of the Dunedain end up becoming a ranger? You must have had great reason to join as well as great skill with weapons to have chosen such a path.'

[Folwren]

Dick pretended not to listen to the two rangers' conversation while he puttered about behind the counter. He frowned a little at first, for the conversation was not going quite as well as he hoped. But then when Arandon asked Aeron how she came to be a ranger, a contented look returned to Dick’s face. Not only would he be interested in hearing the response, he also knew that it was a good starter for conversation, provided that she answered it straightforward.

Yet it was not to be. Before Aeron even had a chance to open her mouth to either answer or refuse to give a proper reply, the door burst open and a blast of cold air flowed into the room. Dick looked up, and any cheerful words of welcome and teasing remonstrance for letting the cold in died on his lips. The figure in the doorway made no movement to shut the door, and did not look at all apologetic for the cold he was allowing to rush in unchecked.

“Shut the door, will you?” Dick shouted finally. “What d’ye mean letting in the cold air and letting the warm air out? Do you mean to freeze us all? Make up your mind and come in or stay out.”

“Not a very welcoming reception,” the man grumbled, reaching for the door and shutting it with a bang. “I’d almost think you didn’t want my business.”

Dick looked at the man’s sour expression as he clumped over to the bar. He knew this type. This was a brawling type, and he didn’t like that type at all. “Maybe I don’t want your business.”

The man smirked a crookedly and leaned his elbow down on the counter. He let a coin clatter onto the counter top. “Give me a pot of beer, innkeeper, and make it fast.”

Dick frowned, but obeyed nonetheless. The newcomer turned to look at his neighbors. His eyes flicked past Arandon and settled on Aeron. “Well,” he said, the insolent smile spreading. “If it isn’t a female ranger. I’ll be danged. Caught any villains this last month?” He laughed. Dick set the mug of ale down before him sharply to demonstrate his disapproval, and the man turned to grasp it. “Or have you ever, I should say,” he added half under his breath and brought the flagon to his lips.

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon saw this stranger enter and despised him from the first moment his eyes laid upon him, he knew all to well this sort and though in a busier place he may have been able to avoid him here he had no such chance. It was obvious from the manner of the hobbit that his distaste for the man was great also.

The man looked past him and spoke, his words bore not the respect that was certainly due to one of the Dunedain and the scorn with which he put upon her sex he could not allow, he spoke calmly but with anger coursing through his veins and seeping through in his words.
'I shall not allow you to speak thus least of all to one who is a protector of you and your kin in Bree for with the people in the north you would be harried by orcs and much else besides I don't doubt. You speak in scorn of someone you and I know not, and why do you do this, simply because she is female?' He could not contain his anger any longer and leaned over the man shouting down at him. 'And yet I say to you that she had shown more bravery and honour by the age of 5 than you will show in your lifetime, the post of a Ranger is not a birthright it must be earned and any with sense will never to actively seek their anger. If your only words are those of poison then hold your tongue else I may see fit to remove it.'

Arandon knew there would likely be a retribution for this and yet he cared not, he had faced many a more terrible foe during his last few years he calmed himself and turned away from the man.

'Now where were we?' he said to Aeron with a smile creeping to the corners of his mouth as he baited the man who had so rudely interrupted them almost hoping he would strike and give him some chance to release an anger that had been with him for many years now.

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron had pulled her cloak around her tighter when the cold air whipped past her. She had watched the dangerous looking man enter into the once warm and cozy Inn, being none to polite to the hobbit innkeeper when ordering his pot of beer. His presence chilled her bones, causing a sour look to cross the once content and warm features of her face. She attempted to keep her focus on the male Dunadan, but found that the newcomer had unsettled her nerves greatly. She brushed off the man's unnecessary comment, and did her best to ignore him. The elder ranger had given the man quite the tongue lashing, and she hoped that it would not cause any unnecessary altercation to arise in the small Inn.

"When mother was with child, my father had hoped for a son, but instead he received me; a daughter." She paused for a moment, glancing down at her near empty mug, debating on whether or not to ask for a refill. Deciding against it, she continued with her tale,"I wanted to give my father the son he never had, which is why I became a ranger. There is no greater reason other than wanting to make my father, and my people, proud."

Her grey eyes shifted to gaze out of her peripheral vision, silently wondering if the cantankerous newcomer had any more snide remarks hidden up his sleeve.

[Folwren]

The reaction of the ranger was admirable. “I will not allow you to speak thus – lease of all to one who is a protector of you and your kin in Bree.” How did he know where he was from? “For with the people in the north, you would have been harried by orcs and much else besides, I don’t doubt.” Ha! Extremely unlikely. Possibly they would deem it necessary to save the innocent people of the north from characters like him, but nobody needed to protect Ibin Grasserby. “You speak in scorn of someone you and I know not, and why do you do this? Simply because she is female? And yet I say to you that she has shown more bravery and honor by the age of five than you will show in your lifetime.” Ibin’s lip curved in a sneer, but the ranger ignored it. “The post of a Ranger is not a birthright, it must be earned and any with sense will never actively seek their anger. If your only words are those of poison, then hold your tongue, else I may see fit to remove it.”

A threat, by gum! Ibin reached under his coat and grasped his knife hilt, but then released it. No, there could be some fun here, and it wouldn’t do to kill anybody. Not when there were two of them, anyhow. He didn’t count the hobbits. He would hold his tongue and his patience for now and see if this ranger actually backed up his high and mighty words with deeds.

But instead of seeing if his challenge were answered, the ranger turned his back on Ibin and returned his attention to the woman. Ibin’s eyes stretched with disbelief. He was actually going to leave it at that? Expect Ibin to let it rest, did he?

“Now where were we?” the ranger asked the woman.

Ibin looked at her. Surely she wouldn’t answer. Surely she would know there was a fight brewing, and would seek to escape it, like most women would.

But she did. She provided them with a sad tale of mother and father wanting a boy and getting a girl instead. “I wanted to give my father the son he never had, which is why I became a ranger. There is no greater reason other than wanting to make my father, and my people, proud."

“Ha!” Ibin scoffed from behind Arandon. “I imagine he would have been prouder if his daughter had stayed in her place in the kitchen, rather than shaming him by taking the position of a man. I would have you know that most men don’t respect women who go traipsing about the countryside, endangering their honor and their reputation by pretending to be other than they really are.”

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon listened to the tale of the young woman ever alert to the actions of the man behind him. He understood her reasons, for his sisters had wished to become Rangers they wished to .

Before he could spend do long in his memories the man once again piped up making another snide comment and Arandon turned his rage was uncontainable, but he did not draw his sword.

His tirade began calmly enough before rising to a crescendo where the full extent of his rage was sent upon the man as the waves of the see will crash upon the shore in a strorm. 'What do you know of life in the northern lands where the westernmost tendrils of Saurons forces come. None who live in the scattered settlements that are left within the once proud kingdom of Arnor are able to simply stay in the kitchen their lives become more important than honour. All must fight and many must die, as I know better than most.' His wrath cooled as the image of his sisters came back to his mind.

They had been wandering in the lands north of the Emyn Uial Arandon had been in the process of teaching them about the various herbs that they could find and make use of when a party of 15 orcs attacked them. He called his sisters to him and they fought the orcs off for a while but a wedge drove tem apart and both his sisters were killed, and the orcs joined them not long after.

He spoke again his voice a barely audible whisper 'It matters not whether they wish to become a Ranger or not the women who live in the north cannot live in the simple way you do. Does that mean they have no honour, that their reputations lie in tatters, perhaps it is so, but at least they shall be alive.'

Arandon did not turn this time, instead he stared straight into the eyes of the man with an intensity that few would have been able to withstand and he waited, ready to pull his sword should the need arise.

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron frowned deeply at the rude, outspoken man behind Arandon. Sad, her tale may have seemed to some, but it was one she was not seeking to receive any pity or sympathy from...or any unnecessary comments, for that matter. Aeron, though, was one who was not quick to anger, but she could not ignore this man any longer. She listened to Arandon, watching him while he stared at the man in behind him. She could not keep quiet though, for this time, she had something to say to the man.

"I would have you know, sir, that I could care less what men think of me and my lifestyle nor do I care if I've earned their respect." The man would have to accept and respect her for what she is before she reciprocates the same to him.


She scoffed at the man, clasping her hands in front of her once more. "I imagine he would have been prouder if his daughter had stayed in her place in the kitchen, rather than shaming him by taking the position of a man."

"A woman has just as much a right to fight and protect those she cares for as a man does. Some do not relish the fact of being caged like beasts doing cooking, sewing and other daily household duties," Aeron paused, turning fully to look at him, her head held high in defiance. "My father is not ashamed of me and what I do, he is proud of my dedication and honour to my people. I have shown the equivalent courage and valor to the Dunedain that a male Dunadan has, can you say the same for your kindred?"

[Folwren]

Ibin heard Arandon out without saying a word. He returned the ranger’s gaze with narrowed eyes and a crooked smile. He prepared to answer when Aeron began speaking, and he stopped again to hear what she said.

"My father is not ashamed of me and what I do, he is proud of my dedication and honour to my people. I have shown the equivalent courage and valor to the Dunedain that a male Dunadan has, can you say the same for your kindred?"

“Are you implying something about my courage, girl?” he asked, his voice very quiet.

“See here!” Dick piped up from behind the counter, “I think things have gone on quite long enough!” Really, he had thought that for some minutes now, but had not been able to find his voice, or even find a place where his voice might be heard. But now that he started talking, he found more courage to continue. “You’ll either go sit down somewhere else or leave this place altogether.”

Ibin never shifted his gaze from the two rangers. His lips curled in a laugh before he slowly stood up and, taking his pot of beer, he turned and sauntered off to one of the tables near the fire.

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon heard the hobbits words and suddenly realised how foolish he had been allowing his emotions to run away with him like that, he knew he must take some time to calm down. he began to move towards the door before turning 'please accept my humblest apologies master hobbit I did not mean to cause such problems for I was at fault as much as the man who riled me, I will take a few minutes to calm down outside.'

With that he pulled his hood up and wrapped his cloak tightly round his chest and walked out the door. He had intended once outside to go for a walk in an effort to clear his head yet now here it took all his strength to get around the corner into the stable where he slumped down and sat a while unable to get the image of his sisters dead bodies out of his mind.

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron did not take her eyes off of the man until he was seated at a table and away from the bar. She turned back around, her eyes now watching Arandon walk out of the warm Inn and into the cold November air outside. Aeron chose to remain where she was at, having not been as riled as the male Dunadan. She looked at Dick, offering him an apologetic smile.

"I too am sorry for adding to the trouble that was beginning to brew inside your peaceful Inn."

Aeron rested her forearms on top of the bar, her body relaxing for the time being. She truly was glad the small verbal altercation did not turn out to be a physical one.

"If there is anything you bid me to do, I will."

Aeron had, as she stated, added to the slowly growing chaos and felt she owed the halfling that much.

[Folwren]

“Please accept my humblest apologies, master hobbit, I did not mean to cause such problems for I was at fault as much as the man who riled me. I will take a few minutes to calm down outside.”

Dick nodded curtly to Arandon, though he did not hold him at fault at all. His eyes reverted back towards Ibin and the scowl did not leave his face as he made certain that the man wouldn’t try anything further now that Arandon had gone back outside. ‘I can always call him back in again,’ Dick told himself. ‘I don’t think he’s going far.’

“I, too, am sorry for adding to the trouble that was beginning to brew inside your peaceful inn,” Aeron said..

Dick’s attention snapped to her, and then his expression softened. “Don’t be, my dear, it wasn’t your fault at all. That scurvy scallywag was insulting your honor, and there wasn’t much you could do to help that, was there? You can’t very well change yourself into a man. People have no respect now adays.”

Aeron did not look completely convinced. “If there is anything you bid me to do, I will,” she offered.

“I don’t think there is anything that you could do for me, but thank you for the offer. I will remember it.” He turned away, and then paused and turned back again. “I say - did you say you have been wandering the Shire area for long? Or are you just recently visiting?”

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron had already been watching his retreating form, smiling at his warm reassuring words. When he paused to turn back around and look at her, her eyebrows jutted upwards in curiosity.

"Just recently visiting, I thought I might do a bit of traveling whilst I'm here before I return back to my duties in the wild."

Though, truth be told, the arrival of another Ranger in the Shire had piqued her interest enough to want to do more than just go sight-seeing inside the borders of the Shire. It had, in fact, began to make her wonder if the dear hobbits here were in any sort of danger. Aeron quickly pushed that dark thought to the back of her mind, still watching the innkeeper with intrigued eyes.

[Folwren]

"Well," Dick said slowly, walking back to her with reluctant steps, as though uncertain or unwilling to say what he was about to say. "I asked, because...well...as you are just visiting, I doubt you'd know anything about it."

Aeron had that look on her face that said, 'Try me.' So Dick did. He leaned his elbows on the table and leaned closer to her.

"Some weeks ago, our cook disapeared without a trace. The only thing we could figure out was that the night before she left, she had received a letter. But althogh we sent people after the letter carrier to ask him if he knew where the letter came from or what it contained, we got no news that could help us. We searched for a while and did our best at finding her, but even all the guests at the inn who were Big People and even an elf or two couldn't find her. I was wondering...hoping...that if you'd been in the Shire long, perhaps you'd heard of her."

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron began to study the hobbit closer when he drew nearer to her,"A missing cook?" So, there was suspicious activity happening inside the borders of the Shire. This was the first Aeron had heard of a missing cook, but maybe someone else whom she was recently acquainted with had more information.

"Nay, my dear hobbit, I have not heard of her, but..."

Aeron paused, her eyes shifting towards the front, round door to the Inn.

"Perhaps this is why the master ranger is here, and if it isn't, then his secretive business could very well tie into her disappearance."

She whispered, leaning down nearer to the hobbit. "Tell me, no one witnessed her leaving? No neighboring hobbits?" Surely someone had seen her leaving; in what direction she left in.

[Folwren]

“No! No, she left without a trace. None of us saw her go, and none of us have seen her since. Sure, lots of people talked about it – it was the biggest thing that had happened here since the ruffians were running all over the place – but no one saw a thing. It’s like she vanished,” he snapped his fingers, “into thin air.”

He tilted his head sideways. “Of course, she didn’t, really. There’s too much of her to vanish into thin air. But it’s sure as certain that she isn’t here anymore, and she wasn’t seen after that morning.

“So, if you haven’t been in the Shire, do you think your ranger friend, The Ghostly Wandere, has seen aught of her?”

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

She gazed in the direction of the Inn's door for a moment, before turning to look at the innkeeper once more.

"There are many different people Rangers encounter on their journeys, but surely if he has seen this hobbit and she was with any suspicious characters..."

Her voice trailed off for a moment, she scrubbed the side of her tired face in thought.

"We will just have to ask him when he returns inside, I suppose."

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill enters, walking very slowly. He does not seem to notice the people in the inn, and takes a seat in the nearest corner, setting down a large tome on the table. He opens it to a short way in, then pats his pockets.

He looks up, and a startled expression crosses his face, then relief. Almost silently, as if to avoid disturbing some sleeping beast, he says "Would anybody happen to have something to write with?"

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon sat for some time remembering the pains of his past. He soon became aware of a person moving towards the in and saw a man carrying a large book, Arandon was intrigued by this since he appeared to have travelled much and yet bore no weapon, a curious thing for a traveller especially as the power of the enemy grows in the east.
Arandon walked back to the inn following the traveller silently, watching him closely then he waited a few moments after the man entered bofore going in again himself. He walked up to the bar again casting a quick glance at the man who had so riled him earlier. then he focused his attention upon the hobbit and made another apology for his earlier behaivior, 'Please once again accept my appologies master hobbit, I should have held my temper better yet the mood has past thankfully and I should hope that nought more will rile me for I do not wish to cause any trouble here.'

[piosenniel]

Penny

Penny’s eyes were big as saucers at the goings-on in the common room. She watched as the Big Folk drew apart from each other – one to a table by the fire, one to step outside, the last keeping put at the bar. The toast she’d spread thick with blackberry jam now lay forgotten for the moment on her plate.

Leaning forward as to be nearer the elder Hobbit, she whispered as quietly as she could. “Are there always so many of the Big Folk hereabouts?” She picked up a piece of bacon and munched on it, absent-mindedly. “And are they always so . . . so, well, cranky and out of sorts?” She waved the crisp bacon at the gaffer, drawing back a bit, her voice going back to a more normal level..

“Comes from not keeping your tummy full, my gran would say. Twists you up inside if your insides don’t have something to work on.” She nodded her head, remembering her gran had firm opinions on just about everything.

Penny looked over toward the Big Folk still remaining in the room. She took another bite of bacon and mumbled around the crumbly bits. “Personally, I think it’s those boots they wear! Can you imagine walking about with feet all smunched in and your toes all pushed together?”

From a table nearby, one in the corner, she heard a voice. Another of the Big Folk, his question hanging in the air. "Would anybody happen to have something to write with?"

Penny excused herself and drew closer to the man. “Well, ummm, sir,” she said, standing out of arms’ reach. “It’s not much, but it works fine for making lists and such.” She fished about in her skirt pocket and drew out a stick of hard charcoal, most of it wrapped in yarn, its end ground somewhat to a point. ‘Can you use it?’ She held it out tentatively.

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill smiled. "Yes I can, milady. Thank you very much." With that, he returned to the book and began writing quickly, pausing every so often and staring at his work.

After a while he stopped and closed the book with a thump, looking around for the hobbit-maid who gave him the pencil. He did this vigorously for a moment, then found her and stood up, seeming uncertain. He was interrupted by the hobbit entering the room, and stopped to see what his intent might be.

[Galadriel55]

Alferad strutted to the door with a haughty air, grinning widely. He did this every time he went to the local tavern – after all, his family was relatively well off, and he never forgot to display this importance to other hobbits. He came into the Common Room, and began a greeting.

“Good day to y…” His voice faltered; the speech that he carefully planned out beforehand came to an abrupt end. His broad smile faded into a look of confusion. Every pair of eyes in the room swung to him. Al was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. The guests of the inn were not only hobbits, which shocked him. There were a few of the Big Folk. Al wasn’t used to them: he’d only seen a man once in his life, and it was long enough ago to make the impression wear off.

He cleared his throat. “Er, I mean, good day to you, sirs and ladies!” he said, recovering from his first surprise and trying to cover his confusion. The guests turned their attention to their conversations again. He looked around. In a corner, he saw a man sitting with a huge tome in his lap who was also looking around. What a queer man, he thought. Al’s curiosity got the better of his apprehension of men, so he steered himself toward the stranger, at the same time calling for a mug of beer.

[Folwren]

“Please once again accept my apologies, master hobbit. I should have held my temper better. Yet the mood has passed, thankfully, and I should hope that naught more will rile me, for I do not wish to cause any trouble here.”

Dick listened seriously to the ranger's repeated expression of regret and then he shook his head. “Bad business, sir, it was bad business. But it wasn’t your fault. No, indeed, you mustn’t blame yourself. You were only defending the lady’s honor, and that’s how it ought to be. Yes, as my grandmum always says-”

But what his grandmum always said, Arandon never found out, for at that moment, another man entered. He was another one who, like Arandon, said nothing to anybody when he entered. Instead, he made for the nearest seat (better than the nearest corner, Dick thought) and pulled out a book, and then called for something with which to write. Dick glanced around and saw another customer, a hobbit customer, get up and answer the request. Well, that was good. Dick only had one pen and he didn’t much feel like lending it out.

“As I was going to say, don’t worry about it at all. What’s done is done and no ill has come of it. Oh, look, another customer.” This said half to himself. Thank goodness it was a hobbit and not another big person.

“Good day to y-” the new customer began in a bold sort of voice. Arandon swiveled about and looked. Aeron also turned her head. The new hobbit’s confidence wavered, Dick could see it. He raised his eyebrow expectantly. “I mean, good day to you, sirs and ladies!” A momentary, awkward pause, and then Arandon and Aeron turned back to the counter, Dick refilled their mugs of ale, and the other customers went on with their breakfasts.

“A mug of beer if you will!” called the new hobbit. Dick looked quickly in his direction. He wasn’t even looking towards him or the bar, but rather going towards the man latest come.

“Hmph. One of those customers,” Dick said to himself. What exactly he meant was unclear even to himself, but he didn’t much like it when customers were too preoccupied to talk to him squarely. He filled the mug and carried it to the hobbit. “Seredic Boffin, Innkeeper, at your service,” he said, placing the ale before him. “If there is anything else you need, please let me know. And you, sir,” to the man, “is there anything I can get for you, sir?”

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon was only half listening to what the hobbit was saying since he knew what would be said and he was lost in thought when a young hobbit strode in and began to speak causing Arandon to turn and look at the hobbit who faltered, and seemed rather uncertain of what to make of the collection of people that were now assembled in the inn. This hobbit eventually gathered himself and spoke clearly but his voice was not filled with confidence.

Arandon turned away again from the hobbit who was rather uninteresting compared to the others in the Inn and he turned his attention back to Aeron and asked 'so where have you travelled to during your time as a Ranger?'

[Galadriel55]

Al came over to the table the man with the tome was occupying and sat opposite him. Very soon the innkeeper brought him the beer he had asked for. “The service here is fast, I see,” Al thought approvingly, “almost as good as in the tavern back in Brandy Hall.”

“Seredic Boffin, Innkeeper, at your service,” the hobbit who brought the mug introduced himself. “If there is anything else you need, please let me know,” he added. Although his voice was cheerful, Al noted that it wasn’t very enthusiastic, even slightly annoyed. The innkeeper also asked the man if he wanted anything.

Before the man could reply, Al butted in.
“Good morrow, Master Boffin!” after all, the morning wasn’t that bad; “Alferad Brandybuck at your service! It is an honour for me to be drinking the most bestest beer in the Farthing in your wonderful inn!” That wasn’t exactly true, for Al did not drink the beer yet; “And even a greater honour to do it with you, Master Boffin!” Or, rather, his honour to be sitting with me, Al thought: you don’t meet a hobbit like me every day!

Al paused for a moment, basking smugly in his self-importance. He opened his mouth to continue complimenting his future stay, when the man with the book cut him off. “If my muther heard him now, o will she be angry about him interrupting!” Al thought. He then recalled that the reason he was here was to get away from his ‘muther’, so he let the matter drop and listened patiently to what the man had to say.

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, thank you. A mug of beer would be nice . . . and possibly something to eat? Also, if it's not too much trouble, could you return this?" he said, holding out the makeshift pencil.

He turned his gaze to the hobbit sitting at the opposite end of the table. "By the by, did you say that your name was Brandybuck? Of Brandy Hall?"

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron watched Dick walk over to serve one of the newer patrons that had entered the Inn. One, a man who carried a tome with him on his travels; and a lofty hobbit who seemed to lose his nerve upon entering the occupied Inn. Both characters seemed interesting enough to the young ranger. When Dick made his way back to the counter to retrieve the man's request, Aeron looked down into her own empty mug of beer, sighing.

"When you've finished with the newcomer's request, master hobbit, may I please have a refill? and possibly bring the master ranger here a pot of beer as well?"


"So where have you traveled to during your time as a Ranger?" Aeron's head turned in the direction of the seasoned ranger by her side, resting her forearms on the clean counter.

"I've been no further than the wilderness of the North Downs, the Fields of Fornost to be more precise, and no further than the cold climates of Caradhras in Hithaeglir." She paused for a moment before continuing,"and what of your travels? How far have you traveled to perform the duties of the Dunedain?"

[Galadriel55]

"Yes, thank you. A mug of beer would be nice . . . and possibly something to eat?” the man asked Mr. Boffin, “Also, if it's not too much trouble, could you return this?” Well, just as I expected, thought Al; To interrupt my greeting to this admirable goodhobbit innkeeper over here – for such unimportant matters! Cabbages and potatoes! Now I can see what muther meant about the Big Folk – the bigger you grow, the less sense remains in them! Mr. Boffin nodded and went away to do the man’s request.

Al was carefully arranging his face into a faint sneer, when the man’s voice jerked his attention back to him. "By the by, did you say that your name was Brandybuck? Of Brandy Hall?" What a question! What a silly man!

Al was about to answer haughtily when he remembered that he’s talking to a man almost double his size. He tried to make his voice polite, but some annoyance still seeped in. “Alferad Brandybuck, good sir. But I never said anything about Brandy Hall.” Al considered making up a story that he traveled from Hobbiton, but thought better of it. “I am indeed from Brandy Hall, though. If I may ask in turn, what is your name, and where are you from?”

[Flame of Udûn]

"Thank you a beer would be wonderful, and please could I have some food brought?"

Arandon nodded as he listened to her talk of the places she had been he nodded as she spoke of areas he knew well enough, he had spent many years wandering in Eriador especially around the misty mountains.

"I have travelled throughout most of middle earth west of the lonely mountain and north of Harad. Though most of my travels have been north of Rivendell in Rhudaur and the Misty Mountains and occasionally I have been further north than that but not often thankfully."

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Her eyes sparkled in curiosity, especially at the mention of Haradwaith. Aeron was focusing her full attention on the elder Ranger at this point, enthralled by the sounds of foriegn lands. She dreamed of one day traveling as far as this experienced Ranger has; bringing back tales and memories of adventure in distant lands.

"North of Rivendell? You've journeyed into the Ettenmoors, then?"

It was a cold land and litte known to any save for the trolls that lurked there. It was a land her father forbade her to travel to due to it being so dangerous. Aeron was studying the Ranger's face intently, awaiting an answer. There was much this Ranger knew, and many flights he had taken. Aeron was intrigued by him, to say the least, and she wanted to hear anything he had to say.

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon was peased to talk about the places he had travelled for this was where his true enjoyment lay. The desire for travelling had been kindled in him when he was young and had stayed with him ever since and talking to someone who seemed to be truely interested in the wider world (which is something not often found in the shire) gave him great joy.

He was surprised she chose the Ettenmoors as her place of interest, it seemed very strange that that of all the places he had travelled she chose one that was so near to places she herself had been. "The Ettenmoors? Yes I have been there, though of it there is little to tell, it is not a truly evil place yet evil has chosen to reside there. Sometimes though it can appear pretty on a clear day perhaps even occasionally beautiful but those days are few and I must admit I have only been there a few times and never have I lingered longer than was needed, it is for the most part a rather bare and lonesome land. I would not have have expected to be asked about it, of all the lands you have not seen you choose one so close it seems to me that you could go there yourself if you were so inclined."

[Envinyatar]

‘Left here, Midge!’ Tolly tightened the rein in his left hand and flicked the loose right against his sturdy grey pony’s flank. Midge, for his part, twitched his ears and angled left, though his slow even pace did not increase in the least.

‘We’ll rest up here, lad,’ Tolly went on. This was his last delivery – two small casks of smoked fish, one of trout, the other perch. He was much looking forward to a pint of the inn’s fine ale and a nice feathered bed to sleep in for the night. Camping out along the road, living out of the back of his wagon was getting a bit old.

He pulled the wagon round to the inn’s side door, the one just past the garden, intending to bring his wares in. A movement on the far edge of the cabbages caught his eye and he craned his neck, narrowing his eyes to see better.

[piosenniel]

Iris

Iris knelt down among the cabbages, shaking her head as she inspected the slug eaten leaves. ‘Tsk, tsk!’ she muttered as she picked up one of the offending creatures and flung it as far away from the garden as she could. ‘This poor garden!’ She could see the glistening trails which wended this way and that among the plantings. ‘Needs some nice marigolds to keep the slimy critters away. Yes. . .’ She nodded her head. ‘That and a few hungry ducks to eat them!

The whole of the garden, really, had a sad, neglected air. What could the Cook be thinking to leave her vegetables and herbs in such a besieged and bedraggled state.

Iris stood up, dusting off the dirt from her knees, shaking it off the hem of her skirt. As she straightened her apron, she noticed some curious fellow gawking at her across the way.

‘Well,’ she said, fixing him with a steely stare back. ‘What are you looking at, good sir?!’

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Truly, she didn't know herself as to why she chose to ask the seasoned dunadan about the Ettenmoors. Perhaps it was the sole reason it was off limits to a ranger of her skill, currently, is why she was so curious about it. "I am not as skilled in the art of the Ranger as you, sir, but one day I will be, and mayhap then I will journey there." Aeron dropped it from there, too eager to linger on one place for too long, for there was many areas this elder Ranger had traveled to.

"Do tell me more about your travels, master Ranger." Aeron smiled,"I am most curious about the distant lands; you say you've been north of Haradwaith, what was it like there?"

The young woman patiently awaited his reply, hoping he had a tale to offer her.

[Bom Tombadillo]

The man smiled. "My name is Hamwill, of Bree - though lately I've been travelling across the Shire, researching. I am afraid I didn't spend much time in Brandy Hall though - there was a farmer nearby who told me a good bit about mushrooms. He had horses the size of hounds - er, hounds the size of horses - too."

He carried on, utterly oblivious to the hobbit's annoyance. "In any case, if you are from Brandy Hall, would you mind talking?"

[Envinyatar]

Tolly flushed red to the tips of his toes. Caught gawping like a loutish schoolboy! Hopping down from his cart, he burrowed his toes in the loose dirt of the yard as he pulled his straw hat down low over his brow. Did I not teach you better than that! he could just hear his Gran whispering fiercely in his mind.

At a loss for words, he went to the rear of the cart and hefted a crate of smoked trout to his shoulders. ‘Nothing, m’am,’ he mumbled as he hurried toward the door. ‘Well, not “nothing” nothing…..that is….’ Oh, I am making quite the mess of this! he chided himself.

‘Name’s Tolly…..Tolly Bramble,’ he said, as he reached the kitchen entryway, clearing his throat. ‘Are you going in?’ He opened the door with his free hand. ‘After you, Mistress . . .’ His voice rose in a questioning tone.

[Flame of Udûn]

He spent a short while thinking of the lands that lie to the south of Gondor, he had spent a long time wandering in Ithilien, especially in the easternmost parts of that land where he kept a close watch on the orcs movements.

"Much of the lands in Gondor are decaying, slowly they are falling as the blood of Numenor thins, but one land falls less sharply, or perhaps fell from a much grater height. Of all the lands that I have wandered it is second in beauty only to Rivendell. It lies near to the Ephel Duath but it is not marred by their shadow, many times have wandered through Ithilien scouting the enemies movements, but I always linger longer than I aught and I am loth to leave it when I must. It is a rolling land which in spring is filled with the sweet scents of the trees, and all the while you are within earshot of the streams as they make their way to the Anduin and these make a simple music which can gladden the heart of any who hear it.”

[piosenniel]

Iris

Now it was Iris’ turn to scold herself. He didn’t seem the rude clodhopper she’d first thought him when she’d looked up to see him eyeballing her.

Stars above! She glanced down at the crumbles of garden dirt still clinging to the hem of her skirt. Gathering it up a bit she noted the smudges on her knees and the faint dusting of soil along her shins. And her hands, they were grimy with dirt despite her having brushed them together before she’d stood up. Not a wonder he’d gawked! What a sight she must be!! Lucky you didn’t scare the poor fellow!!

Replacing the earlier scowl with what she hoped was a friendly, though not overly encouraging smile, Iris sailed past Tolly, nodding her head somewhat as she did so.

‘It’s Mistress Puddifoot,’ she said, turning to face him as he entered the kitchen after her. ‘Iris Puddifoot.’ She pulled her handkerchief out of her apron pocket and wiped off as much dirt from her hands as she could.

Iris let her gaze drift round the kitchen. It seemed somewhat bedraggled. No wonder the garden is in such a sad state! she tsk’d to herself.

‘Where’s the Cook?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Be glad to lend her a hand with the garden while I’m here.’

[Galadriel55]

The man introduced himself. He said that his business in the Shire was “researching”, whatever that meant. The closest word Al has ever heard was “search”, so he assumed that Master Hamwill’s first search was fruitless and he had to do it again. But what could be so important that a man from Bree would travel to the Shire – a thing almost unheard of - just to look for it? Al couldn’t hide his annoyance and disapproval this time. However, the man didn’t seem to notice, and went on about his travels.

“There was a farmer nearby who told me a good bit about mushrooms. He had horses the size of hounds - er, hounds the size of horses - too." Now this is something more or less familiar. That must be old Farmer Maggot – who else could have dogs the size of horses? But there is something odd about this whole thing. Either the man is exaggerating, or I have not known Maggy! Him, giving away his mushroom secrets?! He’d rather swim down the Withywindle! Al accounted the confusing part about horses and dogs for the man’s queerness and lack of hobbit common sense (hobbit, because men simply didn’t have it). If he would ever have seen a real horse in his life, he’d take the last part with skepticism as well.

Some disbelief must have shown on Al’s face, because Hamwill stopped talking. After a small pause, he added, “In any case, if you are from Brandy Hall, would you mind talking?”

At that point, Al’s head almost exploded with curses, retorts, questions, and outrage. Unfortunately, they couldn’t all come out of his mouth at the same time no matter how much he tried (which was very lucky, because the tome that the man was holding looked pretty heavy). He even turned a bit red from the effort. After a few moments he finally choked out of himself a politely-worded but rude-sounding reply: “Talking about what, Master Hamwill?”

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

A picture began painting itself inside of Aeron's head; climbing, scented woods dominated the lands before them; the gentle, sloping lands rolled out like large earthen carpets; the refreshing streams flowing over rocks to meet the rushing Anduin. The young Ranger could even hear the water and smell the wood from the trees as Arandon had described. Aeron had a distant look in her eyes, telling those who looked at her that she wasn't there; not mentally anyways. Aeron would have remained in her reverie had it not been for the sound of a hobbit's voice mingled in with the other sounds of the Inn. Her cheeks colored pink when she looked back to Arandon, offering him a sheepish smile.

"Forgive me, Master Ranger, I was envisioning what Ithilien would look like. Please, tell me more." She paused, though quickly added,"if you do not mind, that is."

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon saw the ranger drift off as he spoke but her question at the end puzzled him, there was little more to tell of Ithilien since no people lived there and other than himself he knew of none save the rangers of Ithilien who ever went into the land, he had heard of there hidden refuges he had never seen any. He wondered if she may have wanted him to talk of his own travels there or of other lands but he decided to finish his description.

"I have been somewhat untruthful in my description of Ithilien for while most of the land is free from shadow there is one place that is now totaly consumed by it, Minas Morgul. The Valley around it has become a place of great evil where few would dare to tread and fewer still would return, the Morgulduin which flows down the valley is poisoned, its waters do not sing as the others do, it is in discord with the rest of the land and has an foul smell which comes from the white flowers which are the only vegetation that grows there, it is a place I prefer not to speak of."

[Envinyatar]

Tolly stashed the crate of smoked trout in the walk-in pantry, the one farthest from the stove and hearth, the one where the foodstuffs that needed to be kept cooler were stored. There was no one in the kitchen save him and Mistress Iris; no one to answer her question.

‘Well, I’m not sure Miz Puddifoot…..about Cook, that is. But I’d heard since my last trip here that she’d gone missing.’ He shrugged his shoulders at her bemused look. ‘Vanished…..and no one knows where she’s gone off to.’

He looked round the kitchen which seemed to be in a state less tidy, less organized than Cook would have her kitchen be in. ‘I think it’s just the serving girls that are trying to keep things going for now.’ He should his head. ‘Though were it up to me I would say that Cook is just not coming back.’

Tolly turned toward the door, intending to bring in the last crate, the smoked perch. ‘Seems like the girls are doing the best they can.’ He shrugged. ‘But being Cook here at the Perch is a big job…..bigger than they can take on and do their own jobs, too.’

When the crate of perch was tucked away next to the that of the trout, Tolly excused himself from the kitchen and went to find the Innkeeper, to let him know he’d brought the smoked fish as was promised.

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill spoke eagerly to the angry hobbit, saying "Well, Brandy Hall itself for one. As I said, I was only there for a short time, and I'm interested in -" He paused, having finally noticed the hobbit's obvious frustration and confusion and mistaken it for constipation.

"Are you entirely all right, Mister Al - um - I seem to have quite forgotten your name . . ." he continued with an expression of deep confusion. "Well, I've gotten off course. As I meant to say, are you all right?"

[Galadriel55]

Al was too busy being mad to pay much attention at first to what the man was saying. Suddenly, Hamwill stopped short in the middle of a sentence, which jerked Al back to his attention. "Are you entirely all right, Mister Al… um… I seem to have quite forgotten your name… " The man said. Oh, how rude! Don’t they ever learn anything?! To forget my name, when I said it twice just a minute ago! And… wait, he said if I’m all right? I’m all right?

“Now, see there, mister, you’re the one who isn’t all r…” All begun to say, when the first part of the man’s rather short speech registered in his head. Well, why didn’t he say so right away? He could have told me that he’s interested in my town! That’s what he’s probably searching for – the most perfect town in the Shire, because he wants to move here from Bree (like all sensible people should)! He should nave spent more time at the Brandy Hall, because it is the only possible option. I mean, where else? Al didn’t notice that he opened and closed his mouth several times while his brain was slowly catching on. Hamwill stared at him as if his nose fell off, but Al wasn’t aware of it.

“Brandy Hall! Why, it’s the most bestest place you’ll find anywhere! I mean, what else could you expect from such a splendid place? Like Larry said – he’s my third cousin once removed, by the way, - so he says ‘where you live is what you are, and what you are is where you live’, you can see this right away with Brandy Hall. And my great-uncle Brisso also says this. Did I tell you Larry is my third cousin? Well, he’s also my second cousin, but either way once removed. You see, we are related from both my mother’s and my father’s side, And his brother Jack too – oh, me and Jacky used to have so much fun together! Well, Jacky’s what we call’im, his real name’s Jack, but anyways, few years back we went swimming down the River, and his leg caught on some very long seaweed, but I kept…”

“No, no, please!” the man cut across Al’s monolog, “That’s not what I meant!” Al couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with him or not.

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill seemed to have at last comprehended the hobbit's irritation towards him with the comment he had just made. "Now see there, mister, you're the one who isn't all r . . ." the hobbit's comment trailed off and Hamwill stared at him for several moments before he launched into his rapidly delivered speech, then cut him off in mid-sentence. He immediately regretted it, but his mouth carried on.

"That's not what I meant, and if you don't wish to speak with me, then have out with it! And if you do, then slow down and don't ramble so much!" At this Hamwill feared the trouble that his overly eager mouth had gotten him into; he acted contrite, saying "Er, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude . . . "

[piosenniel]

Penny

My goodness! thought Penny, watching the little scene play out between the man she’d loaned her little stick of charcoal to and the Hobbit fellow who seemed, at least in her thought, to be a bit prickly . . . and loud!

‘I don’t know about you, Mr. Burrower,’ she whispered quietly across the table to the old gaffer. ‘But things seem to be getting a bit unsettled around here.’ She nodded toward the man and the Hobbit. ‘I think I’ll just go find my Auntie Iris and see if she needs any help.

Penny pushed her chair away from the table as unobtrusively as she could and made her way to the kitchen. A stocky built Hobbit fellow came through the door, nearly knocking her down as she hurried through the entryway. ‘Scuse me,’ she said, easing her way around him.

And there was Aunt Iris, standing in the middle of the kitchen, frowning . . .

[Galadriel55]

Al didn’t think that the explanation that the man gave him was a good reason to interrupt the story. At least he apologized for it! Maybe he does have some common sense! Al’s expression of fury and anger melted into a kind smile in the matter of seconds.

“Don’t worry about it, Master Hamwill! Forgive and forget, as my muther used to say about-” Al caught himself just in time, because his mother used to say this about the Big Folk, who just don’t have any common sense to guide them. “…Er, about some, um, accidents! Yes, accidents it is! Well, if you want me to tell you something different, could you please be more specific about what you want to hear?”

[Undómë]

Rowan kept a wary eye on the Hobbit and the man, fearing at first that tempers, or at least the temper of the Hobbit, would flare up and there would be some sort of commotion. ‘Hmmmph!’ she mumbled under her breath. And just who would have to clean up after them! she thought to herself. ‘Me and Prim!’ she said aloud in a quite exasperated manner. She noted a number of those sitting near her now looked her way with questioning frowns on their faces.

Rowan busied herself piling up dishes and cups from those who had eaten and ignoring the curious lookers on she hurried toward the kitchen…only to find some strange, older Hobbit lady standing in the middle of the kitchen and the new younger Hobbit miss, the one about her age, looking at the older lady as if she, too, were wondering what was going on in here.

‘May I help you?’ she asked, setting her load of dirty dishes on the counter near the sink. ‘I’m Rowan, Rowan Muddifoot. One of the servers here at the Perch. Is there something I can do or get for you?’ She looked inquiringly from the young Hobbit to the older.

[Folwren]

Seredic busied himself behind the counter, listening in on the two ranger’s discussion about distant lands. All in all, none of them sounded as nice as the Shire, and he marveled that anyone could ever want to leave. But Aeron seemed quite enthralled and Dick didn’t have the discourtesy to interrupt and tell them his honest opinion of traveling.

Once or twice, his attention was drawn over to where Al sat with the man with the book as Al’s voice raised on occasion with anger, but he saw that Rowan was keeping a sharp eye on them as well, and until things got very out of hand, he wouldn’t interrupt. Everyone else in the Common Room seemed to be content. That trouble-making Ibin sat sulking at his table, with both hands resting on the board and looking about. He had not ordered anything. Dick wished he would, and if he was not going to, he wished he would leave.

Dick caught sight of Tolly almost as soon as he had come out of the kitchen. “Ah, I guess he’s just brought the fish,” Dick said to himself. “Tolly!” he hailed the hobbit. “If you’ve finished your work, would you like to join me for a mug of ale and we can discuss what’s been going on?”

[Envinyatar]

‘Well, I’ve finished my work, that’s for sure. One crate of smoked trout, one of perch stowed away in the kitchen.’ Tolly reached for the half-pint Seredic had drawn for him and took a good swig. ‘Good as ever!!’ he said with an affable nod toward the Innkeeper.

Tolly set his mug down on the bar and glanced toward the door to the kitchen. ‘More than just my fish tucked away in there,’ he said, motioning with his chin. ‘A Mistress Puddifoot is in there, too. Tsk-tsking over the state of your kitchen, I think, as well as the garden patch just outside it.’ He grinned at Seredic. ‘If you’re not fast enough, seems like the kind of lady be straightening up and rearranging things more to her liking.’ His eyes sparkled with laughter as he nodded his head. ‘I do believe I just got out of there before she recruited me to start some weeding.’

He lifted the mug again and drained it. ‘Wouldn’t say no to another, if you’re offering, Master Boffin,’ he said with a hopeful eye on the ale cask. ‘How’s the Missus, by the way? And the wee ones?’

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

The chattering between the man and the haughty hobbit captured the attention of the young female more than once, though she did not glance away from the older Ranger. "I have been somewhat untruthful in my description of Ithilien for while most of the land is free from shadow there is one place that is now totaly consumed by it, Minas Morgul." A shiver ran up her spine as the name slipped from his lips. "And I would prefer not to hear of it, Master Ranger."

Aeron glanced over her shoulder at the chattering table again, frowning slightly. The Inn had definitely become busier since she first arrived, that was for certain. "And you've traveled across these lands in solitude, haven't you?" The young ranger had caught some of Arandon's previous conversation with Dick when he first arrived at the Inn.

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill noticed the Hobbit's smile and felt relieved that his rapid comment had not been taken too hardly. He thought that the last part of the saying the Hobbit had quoted sounded rather queer, but perked up when he asked what he wanted to know.

"Well, what about Brandy Hall itself; its history, say. Starting with its founding, of course - I got an earful about who, but nothing too sure about when. I've got a bit of a timeline assembled for the history of the Shire, and I'd like to expand on it."

[Galadriel55]

Al noticed that some people in the room were eyeing him queerly. The closest one was a hobbit lady, about his age, who appeared to be the server: she was collecting dirty plates. Before leaving, she took one last glance at him and muttered something that sounded like mean rim. Al gave her a curious look, but right away he turned back to the man across from him, because he began to speak.

"Well, what about Brandy Hall itself; its history, say. Starting with its founding, of course - I got an earful about who, but nothing too sure about when. I've got a bit of a timeline assembled for the history of the Shire, and I'd like to expand on it."

Al didn’t understand all of what the man told him. He decided not to make an issue of it, though.

“Well, as for who, that’s easy – old Gorbadoc Brandybuck, but you say you’ve heard enough about him. When... – who cares? What does it matter? It’s built, isn’t it? So why worry about these things? It’s the bestest place in the whole world, and that’s all you really need to know.” Al paused for a moment, and then added, “Could you please tell me, Master Hamwill, what is a timeline?”

[piosenniel]

Iris

‘May I help you?’ the lass said, stowing her pile of dirty dishes on the counter. ‘I’m Rowan,’ she went on, ‘Rowan Muddifoot. One of the servers here at the Perch. Is there something I can do or get for you?’

Iris gave Rowan a measuring look. Was there a general air of tiredness about the younger Hobbit? Where were the rest of the servers and maids and kitchen help and the cook, herself, she wondered.

‘Maybe I can help you,’ Iris replied, looking again about the kitchen. ‘My niece and I will be staying in the area for a bit, I think. And . . . well, I don’t mean to be forward, or anything, but it looks as if you could stand a little help in the kitchen.’ She nodded toward the door to the outside. ‘And, my stars, that poor garden out there is in need of some weeding and spading and de-slugging!’

‘Is your cook about, Mistress Rowan? Could I have a word with her?’

[Undómë]

Rowan could feel a rather hysterical wave of laughter bubbling up inside her at the lady’s question. She tried to fight it down . . . without success. She started giggling and hiccuping as she tried to answer Miz Puddifoot.

‘My stars, indeed,’ she gasped, pulling out one of the heavy oak chairs at the kitchen’s table. Rowan plopped herself down rather ungracefully and gulped in a few deep breaths. ‘Oh how I wish I could just call for cook and you could speak with her, Mistress Puddifoot.’

With a corner of her apron she dabbed at her teary eyes. ‘You can’t speak with her . . . you see . . . she’s gone missing. And for a long time now.’ Rowan glanced woefully around the kitchen. ‘It’s just me and Prim, now, to do the cooking and the serving and the cleaning up and see to the wants of the guests, too.’ She heaved a long sigh. ‘We do our best . . . we do . . . but it’s just getting to be too much . . .’

[Flame of Udûn]

He knew that mentioning Minas Morgul in the shire was not wise. The land was blissfully unaware of the dangers that lay east of the mountains and it was nice to know there was a place that did not live in constant fear of them.

"Yes I mostly travel alone, I prefer it that way, it is much safer to travel alone when you are spying, you only have yourself to worry about then. It can get very lonely though and you have far too much time to think.”

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

Aeron nodded her head in agreement, glancing down at the counter top for a short moment, thinking of what Arandon had just said. In the first few summers of her life as a Ranger, Aeron learned quickly just how solitary a Ranger's life was, and how dangerous it could get. She found herself unconsciously massaging her upper arm nearest to the elder ranger; remembering the barbed arrow that pierced her flesh. The scar left now served her as a painful reminder of the first solo task appointed to her.

The young woman squeezed her shoulder in an attempt to brush off her previous action, after realizing what she was doing, and of how silent she had grown.

"'He may not be able to speak the same tongue as we, but he'll listen to you when the silence becomes maddening.'" She glanced back up at Arandon, "it's something my father once told me, about my companion Aergolas. Though it isn't the same as human companionship, it helps still to ward off the engulfing silence." Aeron had yet to travel on a task without the company of her equine friend.

[piosenniel]

Rowan’s sigh lengthened out into a thick sort of silence, a sort of bone tired weariness that more words would not dispel. Iris shook off the urge to say ‘There, there…’ and pat the lass’ hand saying how surely things would get better soon. Obviously they hadn’t so far; they seemed to have gotten worse. Rowan looked so worn out and to be truthful the kitchen looked so….well, jumbled up.

‘Penny!’ Iris’ voice cut through the momentary torpor that crept through the room. ‘Make us a nice pot of tea, please,’ she ordered, pointing toward the pile of tea pots and lids on a nearby counter. ‘Rowan, fetch the honey to the table here. And some cups.’

While the two bustled about, Iris found a bread knife and cut some thick slices from the brown bread loaf which looked to be at least a day old. She toasted them quickly over the kitchen fire and spread them generously with butter and some jam she’d found in a pot nearly hidden by a pile of rumpled dish towels. She piled the toast on a platter and motioned the two to have a seat at the table.

‘And you, too,’ she called to the dark haired young woman who’d just come into the room. It was Prim, wondering where Rowan had gotten to.

Over cups of sweet, hot tea and toast with jam, the four women held counsel – a makeshift sort of plan was formed. Rowan and Penny would do the taking orders, the serving, and the clearing up for now. Prim would stay in the kitchen with Iris and they’d get some sort of meal going.

Iris took down one of the aprons hanging beside the stove and tied it securely about her waist. She poked her nose in the large pantry and rummaged about for a bit. ‘Here,’ she said, tossing two large onions to Prim. ‘Chop these up and throw them in one of the kettles.’ She poked around a bit more, uncovering the remains of a ham not yet gone bad. ‘This’ll do, too. Ooh, and here’s a nice little sack of butter beans.’ Iris smiled at the thought. ‘Ham and beans…that’s always good for keeping your sides from flapping together.’

Soon there was a savory smell drifting through the kitchen – ham, beans, onions augmented by fresh herbs Prim had fetched from the garden. Prim stirred the large kettle in a contented way while Iris threw together flour and shortening and leavening and was now rolling out the dough for biscuits.

[Folwren]

“Mistress Puddifoot...” Dick said thoughtfully to himself. “I don't rightly know if I have ever met this Mrs. Puddifoot. Maybe she wouldn't be a bad replacement for Cook? I wonder...”

He was sunk in thought for a moment, and then Tolly said, “Wouldn't say no to another, if you're offering, Master Boffin. How's the Missus, by the way? And the wee ones?”

“Certainly, I'm offering,” Dick said, reaching out his hand and taking the mug. He filled it and handed it back. “Lilly is doing quite well, thank you, as well as the rest of the family. They're all as healthy as you could wish for this time of year. Lilly worries something awful about Cook missing. She says it will be a drain on the business and may cause the Perch to lose some of it's old name. I told her that couldn't be, as the ale's stayed the same, even if Cook has disappeared. She cares something awful about this place, her old dad having owned it and run it before me. If you'd like to know, it can be something of a rough ride to try to fill the old man's shoes.”

As he spoke, a whiff of air came from the kitchen as Prim came out of it. Dick turned his head and sniffed. “I say, they've got lunch already going! I'm dashed if Mrs. Puddifoot did go and take over for Cook!”

[Mithalwen]

A smart little wagon pulled up outside the inn. The liver chestnut cob that drew it raised his head as if he remembered he had been here before, but as he made to go round to the stable yard his driver gave a last gentle pull on the reins before descending from her seat with all the easy elegance of her people.

"Not today, Bracken lad, our journey is not over so soon - but your load will be a little lighter". The pony almost seemed to sigh as his mistress, the elf Mithalwen led him to the water trough and let him drink while she went to the back of the waggon and unloaded a couple of bags which she left at the inn door. She returned to the waggon's front and received carefully a large bundle from her companion, a mortal woman alike in height and build to herself - though the woman's hair was as dark as the elf's was pale. The bundle wriggled and unfolded itself into a small girl wrapped in a dark blue cloak who grizzled into her mother's skirts the second she too had stepped down from the box seat.

"You are sure then? There is an inn at Bree", Mithalwen spoke Sindarin to Elintiriel for the folk of her native Belfalas spoke it as a mother tongue.

"Yes I am sure - it is a cold day's drive away and the sooner this one has a hot bath and a warm bed the sooner she will be well won't you, Annie?". The child's only response was to hide under Elintiriel's cloak. "and it is only for a few days. The place looks homely enough"

"It is, and Mr Boffin will make you welcome - he was very good about the twins" she recalled. They had settled quite well at Mithlond, better than she had expected after the inauspicious start to their visit but she had rather hoped that Elin would have stayed at the havens while she made this trip. Having Angharad around to amuse seemed to have kindled a sense of responsibility in her feckless niece and nephew but Mithalwen was a little uneasy leaving them alone for over a fortnight. Yet the journey had to be made, rendered more important since the shenanigans over the twin's arrival had aborted her previous trading trip to Bree six months ago, and the woman had begged to accompany her. Then Annie had started to get ill and though they camped in the relative comfort of Woody End, Elin had wanted to get a proper roof over her child's head as soon as possible.

Elin coaxed her daughter out from under her cloak to say goodbye to Mithalwen and the elf crouched down to say "namárië" to Angharad and the battered one eared rabbit she clutched to her chest. She smoothed the hair from the child's hot forehead, rose and bade farewell to Elin, noticing how thin she seemed as she embraced her. Perhaps the hobbits would have more success at feeding her up than she had.

As she drove away towards the Brandywine Bridge she wondered if Elin would be there when she returned. She seemed restless, haunted or was it hunted? Mithalwen wondered momentarily what Elin was running from - perhaps the husband was not dead but violent? She dismissed the idea.. Elin had always spoken of him with love and grief. Mithalwen chided herself for the lack of charity. She of all people should understand. Had she not lost those she loved most to Mordor, and had she not run away for a while?

Elin picked up her bags and her daughter's hand and stooping to clear the lowish round doorway she went into the inn, immediately grateful for the warmth of the common room. She was suprised but pleased to see there were other "bigfolk" in the common room but she approached the bar first where a hobbit she took to be the Landlord was serving ale to another and talking about the Cook as far as she could catch -she hadn't spoken much Westron for a while and the accent here was different to in the South as were many words. She remembered Mithalwen had spoken of the Cook disappearing during her stay here and wondered if it could still be a topic of conversation so many months later.

She hesistated not wanting to interrupt but the hobbit turned towards her asking how he could help. Her speech was stilted at first as she started to speak in Westron fearing her accent would not be understood

"Mr Boffin is it? If possible, I would like a room for myself and my daughter for two nights probably three... she is ill - only a cold" she spoke sharper than she meant fearing the landlord would turn her away for bringing contagion into his house and realising this she smiled in an attempt to soften her tone, "but she needs warmth and rest", Angharad raised her arms demanding to be picked up. Elin obliged though the child was really getting too big to be carried and her daughter laid her head against her shoulder, drowsily snuffling like a piglet. Elin's own nose twitched but it was not a sneeze. She had caught the scent of the food being prepared in the kitchen. It took her back instantly to the farmhouse in Edhellond where she had spent her early childhood, the happiest time of her life save the short years of her marriage, and this time the warmth in her smile was spontaeneous. Suddenly and for the first time she could remember, she felt hungry.

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon was surprised to hear about the horse, he had not taken a horse on his journeys for many years. It would not have been fair to force any creature to venture into the places he had been to and he had always had a soft spot for horses, his sisters had ridden often when he was young.

"Your quite right there, but I would not force any creature to come with me to the places I am often forced to go, indeed no one should ever have to go there but..." He trailed off and could not think of anything else to say; he often found himself struggling in these situations, he could not hold a conversation up for long.

[Undómë]

Rowan stood to one side as the woman spoke to Master Boffin. ‘So thin!’ she whispered to Penny, drawing the other lass close. ‘Needs a bit of fattening up, don’t you think?’ Her eye was caught by the little girl who snuffled her nose as she lay on the woman’s shoulder. Her daughter, if she’d heard right.

Poor, wee mite! she thought to herself as she smiled up at the girl. She waggled her fingers at the one-eared, love-worn rabbit clutched in the little one’s hand. ‘So, Master Hop-it; or little Mistress, if I’d got it wrong . . . I’m Rowan.’ She smiled widely and dropped a little curtsy. You look a bit cold. How about a nice warm mug of honeyed milk with some little, buttered toast fingers to dip in? Makes your tummy happy, or so my Gran always said to me.’

Rowan nodded her head up at the little girl. ‘And I ‘spose we could do up another mug for your friend there . . . if she’d like one . . .’

[Mithalwen]

Angharad wasn't so ill or misled by the hobbit's dialect not to understand the offer. She had not quite believed that there really were halflings, people no bigger than herself but grown up, and not just in stories, until they had started their journey across the Shire. Now she was seeing one up close and she was fascinated enough to forget her head felt muzzy and her limbs ached.

Her mother had often said how clever and wise the Elves were but Rowan had caused Hobbits soar to far far above them in Angharad's estimation. Rowan understood about Isildur. Not like those elves who no matter how kind they tried to be were always making silly offers to replace his lost ear, as if he were a thing not a person - her constant companion all the days of her life.

"Ammë?", Angharad looked up at her mother for approval and seeing her nod, the girl squirmed down to the floor and attempted her best curtsey in response to Rowan's. A wobble or two later she straightened up and was more or less on the same level as the hobbit.

"'Sildur would like some milkanhoney" she said a little thickly "an..me too, please" her bright blue eyes looked hopefully into Rowan's hazel ones.

Elin looked fondly at her daughter, glad that she had remembered some of her manners as well as her Westron. "Well done, Annie, why don't you go and choose where we are going to sit?". She waited a moment for her daughter to focus on what she decided would be the best available table then thanked Rowan.

"You have made a great impression there, Miss Rowan, - any friend of Isildur's is a friend of Annie's. Isildur is the rabbit " she elaborated, remembering how the name had been a joke of her brother's that stuck, "after the king of old. Annie is my daughter and I am Elin". She felt instinctively that this was not a place for the formality of full names and knew that Angharad sounded harder and almost unlovely to speakers of the Common tongue while her own was simply just too long.

"Milk and honey would be perfect for Annie, but if it isn't too much trouble, might I have some tea?" she asked, keeping at least half an eye on the child who was clearly delighted to discover that a hobbit-sized chair fitted her perfectly and was installed in one as if it were a throne. Her felt rabbit lying now across her lap, her little hands grasped the chair arms as she waited for her mother to join her.

[Folwren]

It never entered Dick’s mind to turn the woman and her daughter away. He had children of his own, and his fatherly heart went out to the little one. November was miserable enough without having a dreadful cold, and it certainly looked like she had a pretty dreadful one.

Rowan seemed to know Dick’s thoughts, for without even consulting him, she made welcome to the little girl and offered her tea and toast. Dick smiled as Elin and Annie turned in Rowan’s direction, knowing they were in good hands. Annie went to search for a table and Elin asked for some tea for herself. Rowan would see to it.

Dick turned again to Tolly. “Do you have any more deliveries today, or are you going to able to stick around a while? You ought to at least stick around to try whatever it is Mrs. Puddifoot is inventing in there.”

[Undómë]

‘I had a little rag doll myself, Mistress Elin. My constant companion and holder of all my secrets. Still have her, in fact,’ she chuckled. ‘My Gran tucked her away in my satchel when I went away from the family burrow. With a little note that Buttercup – that’s what I called my dolly – had a lot of hugs from her for me just waiting for when I needed them.’

‘Looks like Annie is all settled in,’ she went on, nodding toward the table the little girl had chosen. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and join her. I’ll see to your room. And Penny here can fetch your tea and the honey milk and toast fingers for Sildur and his girl.’

Rowan sent Penny to fetch the drinks, with a whispered instruction to bring a plate of hot, buttered toast and a pot of strawberry jam. ‘Momma is too thin to my way of thinking!’

She hurried off to air out the room and fluff up the feathered pillows. The patchwork quilts were nice and thick, but just in case they got cold at night, she put two dark blue woolen blankets on the chest at the foot of the bigger bed. Fluffy towels and wash cloths were piled neatly on the wash stand next to the basin and pitcher. As a last touch, she fetched a small vase and filled it with some pretty autumn leaves and a few stalks of fragrant herbs.

Rowan stepped back toward the door. There, that looks good! she thought to herself as she surveyed the room. She hurried back to the kitchen to give a hand with the lunch meal.

[piosenniel]

Penny

Penny tapped the shoulder of the lass stirring the kettle of beans. ‘Prim? Can you tell me where the milk is . . . and, oh yes, the butter?’ Prim kept the long wooden spoon moving in circles in the thick bean mixture as she pointed out the location of each of the needed items.

In a short time the milk was heated and the honey drizzled in. Bread was toasted to a golden brown, spread generously with butter – some slices were piled on a plate, one was cut into fingers. A small pot of sweetspice tea was brewed; its fragrant steam made Penny smile as it reminded her of her mother’s kitchen.

‘This should be interesting – trying to get this to the table without spilling or dropping anything!’ she murmured under her breath. She looked over the tray loaded with teapot, honey, two small plates of toast, strawberry jam, cutlery, and cups – one sloshing a bit with warm milk and honey. ‘Oh, I’d better bring a third cup for the bunny,’ said as she eyed her load.

Don’t drop it; don’t drop it! she thought to herself as she grasped the tray in front of her and made for the common room. With a relieved sigh she set the tray on the table edge and placed the items on it on the table.

‘Now if you need anything else, anything at all, just call me or Rowan over and we’d be happy to fetch it for you.’ She flushed a bit, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself, ‘Oh, yes, my name is Penny, by the way.’

[Envinyatar]

‘No more deliveries, Master Boffin,’ Tolly said, leaning comfortably against the bar. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just stay overnight. I’ve a mind to do a little ale sampling today.’ He grinned as he raised his mug to the Innkeeper. ‘And mayhap, when I’ve loosened up a bit, I might take out my fiddle and see if I can coax a few tunes out of it.’

He took a swig of the Perch’s fine brew and looked over the mug’s rim. ‘That is, if it’s alright with you…’

[Galadriel55]

Before the man could answer Al’s question, the latter’s attention was diverted again, this time by a tall thin dark-haired woman and a girl coming into the room. The child held close a battered-looking rabbit. There was an air of sadness about them. With them came in a gust of cold November wind. Al felt the chill and shivered. The woman followed the child to a table.

Forgetting completely about the man in from of him, Al made to stand up and go over to the woman’s table. Unfortunately, in his excitement he brushed his arm against his mug of beer. It tipped over, rolled off the table, and shattered into many pieces, spraying the beer all over the place.

Al stood rooted to the spot. He stared blankly at his surroundings. His gaze traveled slowly from the broken mug, to the puddle on the floor, to the stream of ale dripping off the side of the table, to his fancy vest, now splattered with beer. Al sighed. He didn’t even taste the best beer in the Shire.

[Undómë]

As she passed through the common room, Rowan glanced over to the table where the lady and her little girl were now seated. Good job, Penny! she said to herself with a smile. That one has all the makings of a right server! Didn’t spill a drop and managed to keep the toast from sliding off the plates!!

That wasn’t true, however for the rather tall Hobbit, she noted. Somehow he’d managed to knock over his mug of ale and there it was all over the table and puddling on the floor along with the shattered mug’s shards. She fixed what she hoped was an “it’s alright” smile on her face and approached him.

‘There now,’ she said taking out a towel she always had tucked in her apron. ‘You just step away from the table before you cut your foot on one of those jaggedy pieces.’ She handed him the clean towel. ‘Here . . . Master Brandybuck, isn’t it? Just dab yourself off and go over to the bar there. Master Boffin will set you up with another mug to settle your nerves.’

Rowan surveyed the mess before her. ‘And I’ll just get the broom and dustpan and mop bucket to clean up the spill. Be right as rain before you know it!’

[Galadriel55]

A server quickly came over to Al and gave him a towel to wipe whatever he could off his shirt. She suggested that Al go to the bar while she cleaned up, but he had other ideas. He didn’t want the dark-haired woman and her child to think of him as a clumsy good-for-nothing hobbit.

“Thank you kindly. My deepest apologies about this. I will do what I can to help clean the mess I made.” Whatever has gotten into me? he thought immediately, Cleaning is the last thing I want to do at the moment! But he started already. It wouldn’t be good to back away like that. Making good impressions was a tiresome business. “I’ll wipe it up myself, if you give me a broom, Mistress… er…” Al just realized that he doesn’t know the server’s name.

[Undómë]

‘Suit yourself, sir,’ Rowan answered. ‘Just make sure, if he asks, you let Master Boffin know it’s your idea to do the cleaning up.’ She looked from the sloppy mess to the Hobbit, her eyebrows rising slightly. My stars! Doesn’t look someone who’s ever cleaned up after himself in his life!’

She shrugged and turned away to fetch the broom and mop and such from the kitchen. It was only a few moments before she returned. ‘There you go! Just dump the mug pieces in this little bucket, along with the wet rags. You can put it there.’ She pointed to a corner behind the bar, near the kitchen entryway. ‘And just leave the mop in its bucket and the broom and dust pan over there, too, when you’re done with them. I’ll see to them.’

Rowan turned away, intending to see to a local fellow who’d come in. ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ she said, stopping and turning back toward him. ‘It’s Rowan – my name – Rowan.’

[Envinyatar]

Tolly looked on with amusement at the exchange between Rowan and the tall Hobbit. None of my business really he thought to himself. Rowan did seem to be handling it all quite civilly. The fellow must not have gotten her back up. Personally, he wouldn’t want to tangle with her if she’d set her mind to something.

The savory smells drifting out from the kitchen each time the door was opened had set his stomach to rumbling; grumbling in protest of a breakfast long gone and nothing to munch on since then. Only this tasty ale was keeping his innards from collapsing altogether, or so his body was telling him. And here it was only his second mug…..or was it the third…..and his head was getting a bit muzzy.

Tolly set his mug carefully on the countertop and peeked into the kitchen. Prim was stirring a large kettle of something that smelled awfully good. And Miz Puddifoot was a vision in a cloud of flour as she mixed another batch of biscuit dough. He found a certain warmth creeping up from his collar. Get hold of yourself! You’re acting like some calf-eyed lad!!

He cleared his throat, hoping to attract Prim’s attention. ‘Could a hungry fellow get a bowl of that?’ he asked, nodding toward the kettle.

[Mithalwen]

"And I am Elin, this is Annie and the rabbit is Isildur", the woman smiled as she responded to Penny's introduction - not least because she had seen the third cup on the heavily laden tray. "I can't think what more we would want, you have brought us a feast! But thank you. "

They had only been in the place a few minutes, and the kindness of these strangers to Annie in particular was deeply touching, Elin reflected as she poured herself some tea. Not that the elves hadn't been kind - there were so few children among them now that they were liable to be too much indulged (which was Mithalwen's theory for her nephew and niece's waywardness), but a mortal child was to them so fleeting that they seemed to think that it could do no harm to give the child sweetmeats before supper and generally have her own way. Here they were treating Annie she guessed they would their own, and while a sick child was cosseted she would wager that a naughty one would be chastised. It was a taste of the normality she had craved for her, for them both.

Elin drizzled a generous serving of honey over a slice of buttered toast that and noted that Annie was making short work of her milk and "helping" the rabbit with his share. She bit in to the toast - perfection. The underside was still crisp while the top oozed melted butter and honey. Just then there was a crash. She turned to see that one of the hobbits had knocked over his mug of ale. A common enough occurrence in an Inn no doubt – though, perhaps, less so at this time of day. Clearly not all hobbits were as deft in their movement as Rowan and Penny. However the poor chap looked so mortified and forlorn that it was rather funny. Annie was giggling and even Elin had to bite her lower lip to stop herself, letting a trickle of honey run down her chin as a result.

“Stop it, don’t laugh, you’ll embarrass the poor man,” she hissed in Elvish to her daughter “you look a bit of a sight yourself “ . Annie’s upper lip was adorned with a moustache of milk and crumbs.
“So do you Ammë”, Annie gestured to the honey trail on Elin’s chin, and both had to stifle a fresh bout of giggles as they overheard Rowan speaking to the unfortunate hobbit. Clearly she was as feisty as she was friendly dependent on circumstance.

“It’s rude to point! Now Angharad, do you want jam or honey on your toast?” Elin asked trying to regain her composure and wiping her chn with her hankie.

“Djamb” said the girl happily despite her cold. Her mother usually smiled at her but her laugh was much rarer. Elin spooned the strawberry jam, jewel red and viscous over a piece and handed it over. It smelt delicious as if it had trapped the warmth and fragrance of summer. She would have jam on her next piece. But first there was the honeyed one to finish and the tea to drink. And they must try very hard not to gawp at the unfortunate hobbit’s attempts to repair the damage.

Annie’s energy was fading or the hot milk was proving sophorific as the child was curling herself up in the chair as she nibbled her toast, using her mother’s cloak as a pillow. If their room was ready, she would put her to bed for a bit. She wasn’t too worried about her now – her grandmother’s rule was that there wasn’t much wrong with a child that could eat. But sleep was the best cure for minor ailments. And she supposed she should apologise to that flustered hobbit lest he thought her rude.

[piosenniel]

Iris & Prim

Prim motioned Tolly over with a smile, directing him first to the cupboard where the bowls were and next to the basket on the countertop which held the spoons. ‘Here you go, Master Bramble!’ She ladeled out a generous portion of savory beans, making sure to include some nice chunks of ham. ‘That should do you!!’ She motioned him to the kitchen’s table, then fetched a basket of warm biscuits and a little crock of butter.

‘Here’s a knife for your biscuits, and a plate, too’ she went on. ‘Light hand she has with the biscuits, don’t you think?’ she whispered quietly as she leaned down to put the plate by his bowl. ‘You know, I love the taste of your smoked trout,’ she continued in a more normal voice. ‘It’s the best around these parts. What is it you use – oak, a little apple, maybe?’

~*~

Iris rolled out the last batch of biscuits to a large thin mat. She basted the dough with butter and folded it over on itself, repeating the process two more times. Once cut, she transferred them to several baking pans and popped them into the waiting oven.

‘I think we can move those beans off the flame now, Prim.’ Iris surveyed the kitchen as she wiped her hands on the towel at her waist. ‘Hmmm . . . well we’re ready for the hungry hordes, yes?’ she said to no one in particular. ‘Prim, let’s you and I mince a few onions, in case somebody wants to spoon a few over their beans. My Pa always liked them that way, you know. Not my Ma, though. She said they stunk.’

‘So, what do you think, Tolly Bramble?’ She turned toward the Hobbit and arched her brows as he spooned up another big bite from his bowl. ‘You favor a little onion on your beans?’

[Galadriel55]

The server gave Al a skeptic look, before leaving for a minute to bring the things he needed for cleaning. When she came back, she gave some instructions on what to do with all the things after he is done. Al looked at the already large puddle on the floor that was spreading even more with an air of one who is doomed to endless suffering.

He just resolved himself to get down to the tedious business of cleaning when the server added in a friendlier tone, “Oh, I almost forgot. It’s Rowan – my name – Rowan.” She brushed aside a lock of brown hair that was in her face and went off to help another customer. “Don’t worry, Mistress Rowan,” Al said loudly to her when she was turning away, “I’ll make the floor shine!”

Mopping the floor was truly a tedious business. Although he didn’t make the floor shine by any stretch of imagination, Al tried his best to clean up the mess. He was sorely regretting his rash decision. Oh, what would the lads say, if they saw me, me, of all hobbits, wiping the floor of some tavern! The quick glances and stifled giggles from the other guests did not make it any better.

Finally, after putting away the mop, dustpan, and bucket, utterly miserable, Al came over to the bar. “My sincere apologies about all the mess, Master Boffin,” he said in a tired voice: mopping up the beer turned out to be a very hard job indeed. “If it’s not too much trouble, may I please have another pint? And some food? It’s just the right time for an early lunch.”

[Envinyatar]

Tolly passed a few pleasantries with Prim as he enjoyed his lunch. “So glad you like the trout,’ he beamed. And yes, he did use some oak, but mostly some applewood chips in the smoker. Gave it that mildly sweet aftertaste. He kept one eye on Miz Puddifoot, enjoying the economy of motion with which she went about her job. Light and flaky, indeed! he thought to himself, agreeing with Prim’s observations on the biscuits. He settled comfortably into his chair and scraped his bowl clean. Prim offered a refill and he was quick to take her up on it.

He nearly choked on his mouthful of biscuit and beans as Miz Puddifoot finished her question. ‘Onions?’ he squeaked out. Tolly grabbed for the mug of tea on the table and took a big swig, hoping to ease the uncooperative mass down his throat.

Was this some sort of test? A trick question meant to trip him up?

Tolly cleared his throat and took another sip of tea. ‘Well, Miz Puddifoot, I’m not averse to a good onion in connection with my food.’ He furrowed his brow and sneaked a quick peek at the cook. ‘But of course, a fellow does have to take into consideration whose company he’s in.’

[Undómë]

The inn’s business this mid-day was picking up nicely Rowan thought as she and Penny busied themselves about the common room taking orders for food and drink. There was Hamish Greengage and his son Thom just coming through the doorway. Big folk from Bree way; most likely trading pigs for breeding with Gaffer Rushybanks. Best pigs in Stock – the Gaffer. In the whole Eastfarthing, really, in her opinion. Minto Bargepole and his brother, Griffo, sat at their usual table by the window. Bargemen from down Deephallow way. Bringing bundles of wool, sacks of hazelnuts from Willowbottom, and if she was lucky, a cask or two of that very fine barley-wine their cousins made. Tasty on the tongue, it was, and what a kick if you had too much. Like her Pa’s shaggy-eared old donkey.

Yes, the room was filling up - with familiar faces mixed with new. And all looking hungry and thirsty. Better throw a few chunks of wood on the fire, she thought. All that door opening was letting in the cold breezes.

Rowan thanked her lucky stars Miz Puddifoot had shown up and pitched in to do the cooking. If it were just her and Prim, the poor customers would most likely be getting nothing more than bread and cheese . . . and stale bread from yesterday, most likely.

She waved to Penny who was bustling about taking orders and clearing tables. Thanks goodness for another pair of hands out here!

‘Lunch is ready!’ She made the announcement in a clear, loud voice. ‘Beans stewed with onions and herbs and ham. And plenty of hot biscuits to fill in the empty corners!’ She smiled widely, taking in the room. ‘And for any who haven’t met her already, that’s Penny, our new server.’ She pointed to where Penny stood, a tray of used cups and plates and cutlery balanced on one hip as she wiped the table in front of her. ‘Rowan, here,’ she said, giving a brief wave. ‘Just call us over if you need something!’

Rowan hurried toward the kitchen and peeked her head in through the door. ‘Looks like we’ll have a full house, to day, ladies! Get ready to ladle out those beans!!’

[Durelin]

Reginald wasn't at all sure about his decision. He hadn't been since his legs had started to ache and he had grown tired of telling himself that he could not worry about what the darkness held. He needed only to keep his head about him. And his possessions close.

That first sleep -- which he had not settled down for until morning, so that he had a good distance between himself and Bree -- that had made him want to turn around and return home to his bed. But that would have only made things worse, and besides that, his legs had to carry him all the way back first.

He had made it into Shire lands now, and found himself slightly refreshed by the pleasant atmosphere of Hobbit holes and pastures. It was a little nice, in a way, to feel big, though he would never say that to a Hobbit. He had known a few in Bree, as acquaintances. But somehow it was different -- this was entirely the Hobbits' world that he was wandering into. He was a stranger in more ways than one, and that rather felt good.

Reginald could not stand another day without a real meal. He knew that he could not go throwing his coin away left and right, and that he had to learn to live on the road as adventurers did and such...but he deserved it today. He had made it long enough. And he could not pass by every Hobbit inn without enjoying their hospitality...this was part of seeing the Shire, certainly.

Having been directed quite flatly to the Golden Perch Inn in Stock (he apparently was rather blind to have missed the sign), Reginald gingerly stooped and entered and let his eyes adjust to the interior. He heard a woman shouting about beans and thought he would faint with hunger. He found an empty table and threw himself onto a bench, nearly ripping his cloak and bag off to unburden himself.

Glancing around the inn, he noticed at least one other woman of his stature if not necessarily his kind. "Could I have whatever it is I smell...you said something about beans?" he asked of the first Hobbit maid who came his way. Without really thinking about it, Reginald was putting on a good show of 'lost and pathetic.'

[Undómë]

Another of the Big Folk, Rowan noted, as the man in the brown cloak entered. And he looks as if he’d traveled a great distance she thought as he threw himself onto a bench and just as hastily threw off his cloak and dropped his satchel. He looked nearly done in and here it was only mid-day!

She fetched a big bowl of beans and ham and a basket of biscuits. ‘Better add some slices of cheese for those biscuits,’ she murmured to herself, ‘as well as butter and honey and jam. He might be very hungry after all his exertions!’ With a deft hand, she loaded her serving tray and hurried to the man’s table.

‘Here you go, sir,’ she said with a smile, laying his cutlery to one side and placing the food within reach. ‘I’m Rowan, by the way, one of the Inn servers. That other one over there is Penny.’

Rowan took a step back, her empty tray hanging down by her side. ‘Now, would you be wanting something to drink with that, sir? Ale, tea, milk, water…..?

[piosenniel]

The question of onions was put aside as the lunch business began to pick up. Iris helped dish out beans for the hungry customers and lined the little baskets with fresh cloth napkins ready for the biscuits.

‘Let’s grab a quick bite here, Prim,’ she said, ladling out a small bowl of beans and ham for each of them. ‘We’ll just join you, Master Bramble,’ she went on, giving him a quick nod. She jumped up from her chair, even before she’d got comfortable. ‘Now, I do like my beans with a sprinkle of onions,’ she confided as she fetched a little bowl of them for the table. ‘Remind me, Prim, to cut some parsley from the herb pot over there on the window sill.’ She gave Tolly a little smile. ‘Freshens your breath right up I’ve always found.’

[Durelin]

Reginald stared at the spread being placed before him. It looked like he was getting the works! And at this point he didn't really care how much it cost. Those biscuits looked fresh.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said to the young hobbit woman -- at least she looked young to him -- giving her a smile with as much charm as he could muster in his state. "I'm Reginald," he offered his name, hoping afterward that Rowan would not find that strange but rather polite.

He thought for a moment before settling, "Just some water, please. I think that will do me best," he grinned a little sideways. Reginald immediately started loading up a biscuit with butter and cheese.

[Mithalwen]

By the time Elin finished her tea the Common Room was beginning to fill up. Start of the the lunchtime rush she realised. No place for a sick child. Rowan had pointed her in the direction of their room when she had come to clear the table and she had shepherded her sleepy daughter across to the doorway opposite the bar.

Elin was enchanted when she saw the room, not only was the room warm and welcoming with the brightly patterned quilts and the sweet vase of foliage but it seemed all possible wants had been anticipated. As she removed her boots and helped Annie out of hers, she reflected that hobbitfolk had little to learn about comfort and hospitality. Just as well since the child was about asleep on her feet. A bath could wait til later - a lick and a promise would have to do for now.
She dampened a face flannel and wiped over her daughter's face and hands. She peeled Annie out of her frock and then realised that she had left their luggage in the main room- "I won't be a moment, sweetheart, I just need to get our stuff". It took her barely a minute to retrieve the bags, creeping in stockinged feet, but when she returned to the bedroom Annie was already asleep, curled up on the little bed in her petticoats.

[Rose]

A blast of cold air blew open the inn door sending a small covey of dried leaves skittering in along the wooden floor. Tap…tap…tap…

The sound of her yew walking stick and the flurry of leaves heralded the entrance of a rather elderly hobbit. ‘Cursed wind!’ she exclaimed, shoving her little body against the door in an effort to close it. ‘’Bout blew me over, it did!!’ For all her efforts, the large wooden door did not quite close.

‘Say!’ she called loudly in a rather put-out voice. ‘Can someone give old Granny a hand here?’

[Galadriel55]

An aged hobbit came into the inn, bringing more wind into the cosy room. But this time it was too strong for her to close the door by herself. ‘Say!’ she said to the room at large, ‘Can someone give old Granny a hand here?’ Oh bother!

However, Al stood up and strutted towards the exit, while Mr. Boffin poured him some beer. Together he and the elderly hobbit managed to shut the door. “I’m Alferad Brandybuck,” he introduced himself with a small bow, which nonetheless came out extravagant, “Of Brandy Hall,” he added with a sly glance at Hamwill. He then went back to the bar to drink his pot of ale.

[Rose]

‘Alferad, is it?’ Granny called out, tottering after the retreating hobbit’s back. ‘Of Brandy Hall, too!’ She scooted up to the bar next to him. ‘My stars and garters!’ she chuckled, as she looked up at him. ‘You are a tall drink of water, aren’t you, lad?’

The innkeeper had poured her usual half-pint of dark stout and set it near her. Granny took a hefty swig of the fine brew and set it back on the counter. ‘Now where’s my manners! I wanted to say thank-you for your kind assist. I’m Penstemon Greenhill, by the way, but you can call me Granny Greenhill – most do round here. From down south along the Stock.’

Granny took up her mug and looked up at the young fellow as she took another savoring sip. ‘Now, I know The Perch has got the finest ale in the Eastfarthing . . . but what brings such a fine looking lad from the grand Brandy Hall here to this little place. Must seem kind of back-woodsy and a little, well, slow . . .’

[Galadriel55]

It seemed to Al that the hobbit lady was making fun of every part of him that she knew. This succeeded in making him even more morose and irritated. At least she didn’t see how I wiped the floor! Al drank his beer, and had to acknowledge it as the finest that he had ever tasted. That cheered him up a little, but he was still fuming.

“Now where’s my manners!” So very kind of her to remember! She looks like she’ll actually search the room for them! Al just restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

She introduced herself, and continued with a faint hint of curiosity in her voice, “Now, I know The Perch has got the finest ale in the Eastfarthing . . . but what brings such a fine looking lad from the grand Brandy Hall here to this little place. Must seem kind of back-woodsy and a little, well, slow…” Al found himself at loss of what to say. Granny Greenhill hit it right on when she mentioned the beer, and a little more so with her remark about Stock’s rustiness compared to his home. It would not be nice to admit so, especially right in front of Mr. Boffin. He couldn’t think of a good story either: Al wasn’t prepared for such a direct question, with no way of going around it. More so because she didn’t ask; she just said it as a fact!

“Well…” he begun, somewhat lamely, “Er… Why not? Some quiet life never hurt anyone…” Al knew that his explanation didn’t sound convincing, especially because he himself didn’t believe it. To cover his confusion, he continued on quickly. “I’m just staying here for a few days, on my way to Tookbank. I am going for a visit to my family there.” Al drunk the rest of his ale in one big gulp. He noticed that Ganny Greenhill still didn’t really thank him.

[Undómë]

‘Now, Granny,’ Rowan said, coming to Alferad’s assistance. She noted he seemed just a little flustered talking with the old gammer. ‘Don’t be bothering this nice lad.’ She hooked her arm through Granny Greenhill’s and gave her an appraising look. ‘Why he even helped clean up a spill someone made – saved me or Penny from having to do it.’

‘She can be an awful tease sometimes!’ She nodded to Alferad. ‘Get you all in a twist if you don’t watch yourself.’

Rowan steered Granny to a table near the fire. ‘Keep your bones warm, Granny! How about I bring you a bowl of beans and ham and some biscuits with honey to go with that mug of stout?’ She leaned in closer to the old hobbit, whispering loud enough for her to hear. ‘Fortune has smiled on us and brought us a new cook!’

As she hurried by Alferad on her way to the kitchen, Rowan paused and took up his empty mug. ‘Looks like you could use a refill, eh? You deserve it after jousting with Granny.’

[Galadriel55]

Fortunately for Al, Rowan happened to come by. She led Granny Greenhill away to the fireplace. Al did not like how she called him a “nice lad”, though. It sounded as though she was talking about a child. And her mention of his help cleaning up was unnecessary, he thought. At least Rowan didn’t say that I made that mess!

Al didn’t know whether to be angry or thankful to Rowan; for now, he was just feeling embarrassed. He finally decided that she did him a favour. If it wasn’t for Rowan, Granny Greenhill would still be asking me these questions! Just like Rowan said, - what was it? – “you get all in a twist” when you talk to her. She’s a queer type – she seems to know what a hobbit’s thinking by looking at ‘em!

After leaving Granny, Rowan came back to Al. He truly appreciated her offer of more beer. “Thank you muchly! That would be splendid! Could you also bring me some food?”

[piosenniel]

Penny

It was Penny who brought out the orders for Alferad and Granny Greenhill. Rowan had asked Penny to do this while she and Prim readied the dirtied utensils and bowl and mugs to be washed.

Let’s see, now she thought to herself as she scanned the room. Oh, there he is – the one in the rather grand blue vest with the brown curls She hurried over to Alferad’s table and set the meal carefully before him. ‘I’m Penny,’ she said as she did so. ‘Rowan said to bring you a mug of ale, too,’ she continued, putting his drink to the side of his bowl. ‘Enjoy! And just holler out for more if you’re still hungry!’

She hoisted her tray carefully and made a beeline toward the elder hobbit lady by the fire. ‘Miz Greenhill?’ She smiled at the older woman. ‘I’m Penny. Rowan’s sent me out with your lunch.’ Beans with ham, a small side dish of onions, biscuits with butter and honey, and a pot of strong sweetspice tea were soon set out in array. ‘Now is there anything else you might be needing?’

[Rose]

Granny smacked her lips appreciatively at the feast laid before her. ‘Now there’s someone who knows how to serve beans!’ she said, sprinkling a generous helping of onions over them.

‘’Penny, you say,’ she went on, breaking open a hot biscuit and slathering it with honey and butter. ‘Did you just move hereabouts?’ She eyed the lass up and down. ‘I have a grandson ‘bout your age, mebbe a tad older.’ Granny gave Penny a knowing smile. ‘You married yet, girl? Or spoken for?’

The old hobbit took a bite of her biscuit and munched happily away as she waited for the lass to answer.

[Envinyatar]

Tolly took the instruction in stride. Take the water out to the fellow with the red-blonde hair. Man from out Bree way Rowan thought. No, he didn’t want ale, she’d said.

He stopped by the ale cask and drew himself another mug of the Perch’s finest. And what the heck, he thought, why not offer another to the man he was bringing the little jug of water. What man didn’t like ale and wouldn’t really want it over some mug of plain well-water.

‘Reginald, isn’t it?’ he asked, setting the water jug and mug down on the table. ‘Miz Rowan asked me to bring it out to you.’ He set the mug of ale next to the water and slid it closer to the man. ‘Thought you might like a drink of this, too. Goes good with those beans Cook has done up for lunch.’

‘I’m Tolly, Tolly Bramble from Willowbottom. Mind if I sit down with you and drink my own mug with you?’ He looked at Reginald and then back toward the kitchen. ‘Good to be out here with a chance to sit and sip and relax a bit. Those women in the back always have something for a fellow to do if it looks like your getting too settled back.’

[Folwren]

Seredic watched over the activity in the common room with a benign and watchful eye, refilling mugs as they came to his hand, and ensuring that all his guests were happy. He kept a particular eye on two guests – Ibin, the tall fellow who had nearly caused such a racket with the two rangers before things started picking up, and this young upstart from Buckland who seemed to take everything and everyone as an insult. He was glad that Rowan took the young hobbit lad in hand. She had such a good way with these customers that Dick never could probably manage. She would sooth their ruffled tempers and put all to rights before anyone knew quite what had happened.

Nearby sat Granny Greenhill, another faithful customer of the inn, like old Mr. Burrower, who, Dick noticed just now, had apparently gotten up and gone on his way. He’d be back the next morning, sure as certain. Granny was pestering Penny just now about whether or not she was married. Dick stepped over to stand opposite her.

“Now, now, Granny,” he said. “Don’t go asking questions like that to lassies you don’t know. You might scare Penny off, and that’d hardly do, as she’s related to our new Cook! What would become of us then! Besides, what would your grandson think of being auctioned off the first new girl you came across his age?”

[Rose]

‘Well now, that’s just it isn’t it, Master Boffin. Sometimes the young lads just don’t think. Better they’re steered in the right direction than just go willy-nilly into some romantical thing.’ She shook her finger at the Innkeeper as if he should know this by now.

Granny Greenhill laughed and clapped her hands as if to clear the air. ‘Tis a pretty young lass, Miz Penny here. And look how she’s taken on the responsibility of serving here in the Inn. What young buck in his right mind would not take a first look at her . . . . and his mother a second and third?’

[Folwren]

Seredic turned wide eyes to Penny and then back to Granny. “Well, I can hardly say, you know, I’m not a mother, and I already have a wife of my own, and wouldn’t care to take any first look at anybody else. But, if you must ask, you must, I guess. Go ahead and tell her, Penny. . .” He had no idea what Penny’s answer would be, and he didn’t really care. He stepped away to help the next customer, muttering to himself,

“Those women folk are all the same young or old, trying to pair each other up like there’s not enough hobbit pairs around to populate all the Shire and all the Shire’s neighboring lands. Well, well, if I can’t help Penny out of this mess by telling Granny to mind her own business, I guess Penny’ll have to find her own way out.”

[Durelin]

Reginald was a little slow to look up from his food. He swallowed and smiled at the seemingly middle-aged Hobbit. "Thank you, sir." He expected the Hobbit to move on to another table as he had an extra mug or two, but it seemed he wasn't a regular server.

Reginald glanced at the ale mug, hoping it was 'on the house,' but continued to smile. "Not at all, Mister Bramble," he said, grinning a little crookedly at Tolly's remark about the women in the kitchens. "Though I doubt it will be easy to hide from them for long. Women seem to have additional senses when it suits them."

He was not good with women, about all he knew to do was give them a nice smile which only went so far. It was much easier to joke about them. He should be one of those knowing men nearing middle age, who'd been married for a time and could talk about all the things his wife did, make empty complaints, and declare how a man should handle a woman when he in fact bent over backwards for his woman at home. Though there was always the less pleasant sort, as well.

Reginald took a spoonful of the soup and eyed the mug of ale. He needed some water in him, but there was no way he could snub this Tolly and ignore the drink. He took what he considered a healthy drink from the mug of ale, though he wasn't one to knock back a drink in big gulps. It did compliment the smoky beans and ham well.

[piosenniel]

Penny

Oh my! Penny bit the inside of her lip to resist blurting out a response. Think, girl! What’s the best way to answer?

The old Gran reminded her strongly of her Great-great aunt on her father’s side, Aunt Hortensia. Plain-spoken and to the point. And not unkindly meant. Penny took a deep breath.

‘Well, Granny, if you don’t mind me being forward and calling you that. The answer to your first question is “no”. I’m not married. And, “no”, I’m not spoken for either.’

She pulled out the chair nearest the elder hobbit and sat down. ‘Hadn’t you better tell me a little about this grandson of yours? I certainly can’t decide if I might like to meet him if I don’t know a thing about him . . . now, can I?’ Penny leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand.

[Galadriel55]

Al gobbled down his beans and biscuits. They were the best that he had tasted in a while. The mug of beer was not forgotten either.

“Miz Penny!” he called over to the young hobbit who was engaged in a conversation with Granny Greenhill, “Seconds for me, if you would!”

Just as the words left his lips, Al realized that interrupting them wasn’t the best idea, especially since Granny was involved. But Penny said to ‘oller if I want anything. So I ‘ollered. There can’t be anything wrong with that! She’d probably be glad to get rid of Granny for a while. She would much rather talk to me than the snide old stump!

[Mithalwen]

Elin smiled as she covered her daughter's sleeping form with one of the soft wool blankets. It wasn't that she loved Annie more when she was asleep, just that when she was awake she tended to keep her mother too busy to fully appreciate her. She smoothed a tendril of hair way from the dear little face and made sure that Isildur's ear wasn't trapped under the blanket - something he hated according to Angharad.

The toy rabbit was a poor thing really, Elin thought. She had worked it from a remnant of cloak felt to occupy her hands and distract her mind in the last fretful days before Annie's birth, when all was ready save the child herself. She had made other toys later with a more practised and less anxious hand but none had ever given the rabbit much competition for Annie's affections. And it was just as well that the child wasn't attached to many possessions given that they were travelling increasingly light. Some things had been lost when they abandoned Ithilien and most of her remaining possessions had gone back to Dol Amroth without her, while her cabin trunk was safe with the elves at Mithlond. Now they were down to a couple of bags one of which was just little satchel containing Annie's treasures.

She was tempted to stay in the little room, it was so cozy and comforting but Elin felt she should go and apologise to the hobbit who had spilt his beer. She was sure he must have noticed Annie and herself fail to muffle their giggles. Elin unbuckled her travelling bag and extracted her knitting - a half finished sock for Annie in bright blue wool and after a last check that Annie was still asleep she made her way back to the common room. With a bit of luck once she had made amends she would find a seat within earshot of the guest wing.

[Galadriel55]

Without checking if Penny heard his request or not, Al turned to the entrance of the hallway, from which the dark-haired woman that he'd seen before came out. Colour rose to his cheecks, though he knew not why. She came straight to where he sat. Al knew that he should say something, a greeting, perhaps, but he couldn't quite get the words out. Finally, when it was clear that the woman is heading towards him and not anyone else, Al stuttered, "Good day, my lady. Alferad Brandybuck to your service. Well, no one realy calls me that," he added after a pause, "It's Al. Just Al."

I sound like an empty-headed fool! Why can't I think of anything with more sense, so that she'd see that I have some?

[Mithalwen]

If Elin had any doubts about approaching the hobbit, they were rendered pointless by his salutation. She was still not sure this was a good idea - he might not want to be reminded of the incident but she had no option but to speak to him. But what should she say? Even his rather formal greeting daunted her for a moment. She wondered what she should say in the absence of a surname - should she reference relatives she no longer had or places where she no longer lived? It seemed rather futile. When he said "just Al" she relaxed.

"My name is Elintiriel" she answered making a curtsey that brought her close to his level for a moment, "But I am called Elin. I wanted to make sure you were alright after your mishap earlier - I am sure it happens all the time but you seemed rather put out" she continued feeling that she shouldn't have started this conversation and she was getting deeper in with every word.

She gazed out across the common room seeking inspiration but only saw the disparate clientele, the bar, the door to the kitchen. Something clicked in her mind. Mithalwen had told her about the cook who had disappeared. Her name was Brandybuck too and despite all sorts of investigations and enquiries noone had much idea what had become of her. Elin checked herself before she raised a topic surely more sensitive than a spilt pot of ale and stood awkwardly by the hobbit's table. She might be ready for something stronger than a cup of tea by the time she extricated herself from this.

[Galadriel55]

Al felt his ears getting redder with every word. Did she have to bring it up? Haven't I embarassed myself enough already without her talking about it, even if she's doing it nicely? Al avoided Elin's eyes and stared at his feet.

The words of comfort didn't make Al feel much better either. Elin's soft voice faded. The silence was unnatural, as if a creek had ceased it's flow. Al looked up. She seemed to be in as much confusion as he. Her thoughtful gaze went around the room. Al was overwhelmed by the aura of unconquered sorrow that radiated from the woman. He knew he should say something, to break the silence, if not to show some manners, but for the first time in his life Al could not say anything. He gaped at the woman, utterly speechless.

Finally, telling himself to stop his nonesense, he cleared his throat and pointing to a chair next to him said, "Maybe you should sit down, Mistress Elin?"

[Rose]

‘Now he’s about thirty-five. Little bit older’n you . . .’

Between generous bites of beans and biscuits and sips of sweetspice tea to wash it all down, Granny drew what she hoped was an interesting picture of her grandson. She was too plainspoken and honest to embellish his good points beyond the truth. But being his Nana Penny, she was not above polishing the positive so it outshone the negative.

‘Sure as sweet honey from a happy hive, my Rob’s a fine lad!’ Granny said winding up her recital. She leaned back in her chair and fetched the pipeweed pouch from her apron pocket. ‘’Bout covered everything, Miz Penny,’ she concluded, tamping the pipeweed down into the pipe bowl. ‘Sparked your interest, lass?’

[Mithalwen]

Elin's heart sank a little at the invitation. She felt that the hobbit was as uncomfortable as she was but she couldn't see how she could refuse - she knew noone here save the inn-staff as yet and she could hardly decline to go and sit on her own, neither could she immediately retrace her steps to the sanctuary of her room without seeming odd.

"Well if you are sure it won't incommode you", Elin lowered herself into the indicated chair reminding herself that she could excuse herself on the pretext that she needed to check on Annie. Which wouldn't exactly be untrue. She smoothed her dress over her knees and tucked her knitting by her side. She had a feeling that Alferad would not appreciate her dividing her attention between him and a half finished sock however pretty the wool. She wondered what she could do to ease the tension that had increased seemingly with every word she had previously uttered - compared to Penny and Rowan he seemed a very prickly hobbit. The name Brandybuck struck another bell in the woman's mind.

"I am afraid I have offended you," she didn't give him a chance to answer before she continued, "If I have please forgive me - I am but lately arrived in this land and its customs and courtesies are new to me - but I am told that the Brandybucks are an important family in these parts so I am sure that there is much you could tell me ..." Elin's voice tailed off hoping both that the combination of flattery and humility would appease the miffed hobbit.

[Galadriel55]

Al's heart sank. Not that he felt much more at ease after Elin apologized - Some Big Folk do have sense! - and very important at her later words, but he has been through a talk about Brandy Hall once before today. Al felt a drop of his old annoyance at Hamwill seep in. He didn't have any sense in him, that Hamwill. He's queer. He's silly.

"The Brandybucks, well, they're that," Al replied, trying to sound humble and conversational, "Brandybucks. Most of us live in Brandy Hall - the bestest place in the Shire, nay, in all of Middle Earth - if you want to know. And we got the best River, and the best Hill, and the best inns... except for this one, that is."

[Mithalwen]

Elin fought hard to maintain her composure scarce knowing if she should laugh or cry - was there nothing one could say to this hobbit that didn't get him agitated? Some devilment in her longed to ask about the extensive travels he must have made to be able to make such assertions with authority but she guessed he had little in the way of a sense of humour and even the slightest hint of teasing would be taken as mortal insult.

Dead pan she answered. "I have heard tell that the beer here is excellent - though I am no expert to judge in such matters myself - and the staff have been all kindness to myself and my daughter, for which I am most grateful. I have been much impressed by what I have seen so far of the Shire, so Buckland must be a fine place indeed. Though I have not yet seen your river Baranduin or what lies beyond". She had thought of mentioning that she had lived by a river herself - but she feared that merely to utter the names of other places might be taken as an insult to those he had mentioned so proudly. He really was about the hardest person to talk to that she had ever met. Elin hoped he would either relax a little or some opportunity for escape would arise.

[Galadriel55]

"Baranduin"... what a queer way to call our Brandywine! It sounds Elvish, and it doesn't sound like it means anything, Al thought, but he kept his opinion on the name to himself.

Other than that, Elin's reply has been most satisfactory. Al shifted himself into a more comfortable position and voiced his agreement:

"Buckland is a place worth coming to, even if it means a bit more walking. You won't find anything like Brandy Hall in the whole Shire!" Which is completely true, since we have the River! There's also the Marish on the other side of it, but Stock and Rushey are simply no match for Brandy Hall. Al grinned encouragingly. He considered mentioning Hamwill's interest in the land, but the man was better left alone. I've had enough of his nonesense!

"The beer here is truly excellent, as you say - more than that," Al continued, "It's better than that. It's the best beer I've ever tasted!"

Elin did not comment on this, so Al went on with his next idea. "Our River is the best you can find. It's the only river of the Shire - those little puddles that you might have seen aren't truly rivers, you know. They don't have enough water in them. Now we often go boating in the Brandywine, but some of us know how to swim without the boats. I tried it, and I could do it rather well... better than my cousin, at any rate," Al cleared his throat, and continued, "Have you ever tried to swim?"

[blantyr]

Goldie stepped into the Golden Perch carefully. As much as she loved spending time with the small folk, their architecture frequently had a small problem… low ceilings. This Malthenihim wasn't as bad as all that. If the big folk could handle it, the fair folk might try.

Priorities? Song? Conversation? Her research project, of course. Then there was food. Conversation, she thought. She listened, lingering briefly at the door. Ah. The mighty river Brandywine, and swimming? There was a brave adventurous hobbit here. How unusual.

Was he perhaps worth a song?

She stepped forward cautiously, trying to meet as many eyes as possible.

[Mithalwen]

Elin felt that to comment on Al's experience of beer might lead her in to dangerous territory - she didn't trust him not to infer from some harmless remark that she thought him an incipient drunkard. However his subsequent question turned the tables and it was the woman who was discomfitted. She coloured slightly until she realised that, unlike the elves with whom she had been staying, the hobbit did not seem able to see her thoughts - and perhaps just as well.

She had learnt to swim as a child living at her grandparents' farm on the banks of the Morthond and then when she had been sent to Dol Amroth swimming in the sea had provided a precious sense of freedom absent in her restricted life in the city. Her stuffy aunt had not approved of an activity carried out in, what she termed a state of near undress, but she had not forbidden it.

And it had been returning from a swim early one summer morning eight...no nine summers ago that she had first met Anborn - something else that her aunt hadn't approved of. But then the list of things that grand lady did approve of was conspicuously short. Elin momentarily wondered what would happen if the twain ever met - they would either be in perfect concord or dissolve in indignation she suspected. But her reverie had caused too long a pause in conversation,

She smiled at Al. "I have - and also with some success. More so than with boating certainly. I was shown howand can manage a punt but I was lazy and let my cousins and later my brother row or sail and never gained any skill at it. But I liked swimming and since I have lived most of my life by rivers or the sea have had the opportunity. Of course the Mor.." Elin stopped remembering that Al seemed to bristle slightly when she had called the Brandywine by its proper name, "I mean the River Blackroot , is probably not as great as the Brandywine". She had also swum in the Anduin but she wasn't going to mention something she would have to translate as "The Great River". "Maybe I shall teach Annie next summer if it is warm enough" she shivered a little a draught reaching her back from the opened door.

[Galadriel55]

What? Al was very surprised when Elin aswered affirmatively. He expected her to modestly shake her head, maybe - nay, surely - to praise him for being able to do such a thing as swimming... And anyways, are ladies supposed to swim?

Al was so absorbed in his indignation that he hardly paid attention to what Elin was telling him about her experience boating. He turned his thought to her words again when she stumbled on a word, and the melody of her speech stopped flowing for a moment.

"I mean the River Blackroot , is probably not as great as the Brandywine," Elin continued. Most definitely so! Al mentally approved, Brandywine is the biggestest river here. Hmph, the only river! How can this... Blackroot be greater? The very idea seemed ridiclous. This made Al wonder which river is Elin talking about, for he could not recall any such name - and Al prided himself in his knowledge of the map of Shire.

When Elin finished, her voice gradually fading into silence, Al asked the question that was nagging at him: "Mistress Elin, If you do not mind me asking this, where is the River Blackroot that you speak of? The name is unfamiliar to me."

Al felt a chill coming from the direction of the door and turned look what was it this time. He saw an Elven maid with long golden hair, ruffled by the wind, and eyes of deep grey. Not another of the Fair Folk! They are fair, tis said true, but they have no business wandering in the Shire! Our Shire! Yet, despite these thoughts, Al couldn't help it but gape at the newcomer. Her eyes swept the room until she looked into his. Al's ears reddened. After a long moment, very self-couciously, he made a point of turning his back on the door and facing Elin again.

[blantyr]

She had been seen. She could tell. The big eyes, slack jaw and red ears gave it away. She would have to tell the poor little thing she couldn't help it. She was Maltheniel, the Golden Girl. She was a minstrel. She was supposed to draw the eye.

But it was sadly too easy to draw someone's eye too much.

She was unknown here. She absolutely couldn't get away with imitating the hip swaying walk of the human city women who greeted the sailors newly returned from the sea. As they didn't know her, someone might take the invitation seriously. Neither could she imitate the aloof dignity of her elders, putting on her armor of detachment that would protect him from improper thoughts at the cost of distancing herself from everyone in the room. She would like to stay. She would like to sing. She would have to…

Well, that was rude. Goldie knew she was kind of scary to some sorts, more frightful than an orc perhaps, in her own way, but turning his back on her?

She laughed, spontaneously, in b flat major, not at him, but at herself. Let no one take themselves seriously, least of all, herself.

Walking up behind the halfling, Goldie met the eyes of the human woman sitting opposite. "My pardon. I am, alas, myself. Goldie. Goldie Seasong. Is this one often like this?"

[Envinyatar]

Tolly drew a long, slow sip of ale and leaned back in his chair, watching the man tuck into his food. He nodded his head approvingly as Reginald took a slow sip of ale and continued on with the beans. Good fellow! he thought to himself. Knows how to make the most of a good brew…

He turned his head at the sound of voices from a nearby table. ‘By the Old Trout’s raggedy fin!’ he muttered, seeing the mismatched trio. One of the Big Folk, one of the Fair, and Hobbit. ‘What an odd bunch! Leave it to The Perch to assemble such a patchwork meeting.’

His eyes flicked over the Elven lady. Fair, indeed, in form he supposed. But, ‘My goodness,’ he whispered, leaning back toward Reginald. ‘Not so fair in speech, I fear . . . for all her pretty laughter.’ He raised his brow and gestured with a quick shrug of head and shoulders back at the Elf.

‘Rude, my old gaffer would say. And that’s a fact.’

[piosenniel]

Iris

‘Well, Prim, I do believe we’ve got this meal whipped into shape!’ Iris plopped herself down in a chair and settled back comfortable, taking a deep, satisfied sort of breath. ‘Come sit yourself down, miss! The beans’ll do fine on the back burner for now.’

She took an appraising look about the kitchen, ticking off mentally how she wanted to re-order cupboards and shelves. It would take a bit of time to bring things round to her liking, but she had a good lot here to lend a hand and that would make the work lighter.

‘What do you say we do a simple breakfast tomorrow . . . scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, with plenty of strong, hot tea . . . and maybe a Farmer’s Plate for lunch . . . brown bread cheeses, pickle, and mustard.’ She nodded her head and smiled. ‘Give ‘em enough of the Perch’s good ale, and they’ll swear we were serving the Mayor hisself.’

‘And I figure that way, we’ll have time that way to clean out a few cupboards and start rearranging . . .’

[Mithalwen]

Elin was startled and baffled by the strange elf’s intrusion. Is this one what?...always like what? she wondered. Does she mean Al? Always awkward and self-important? Quite possibly she guessed. But whether it was she had no desire to mediate between elf and hobbit – both seemingly self-regarding but one over-stuffy and the other over-familiar. She might not quite understand the situation but she could take the opportunity it offered to escape. Pity in a way since Al had settled a little but maybe this elf would expand his horizons anyway. She smiled to herself momentarily.

She met the elf’s eyes calmly and responded in her soft voice. “Always like this? I could not say after so short an acquaintanceship – and I must leave you to decide for yourself. I need to check on my daughter” . Picking up her knitting, Elin rose, made a slight curtsey to Al “I’ll tell you about the Blackroot another time, when you are less…distracted maybe” and slipped away.

She caught what she thought was a sympathetic glance from a hobbit sitting with a man at a nearby table, half grinned half grimaced in response and retreated to the little room where Annie was still deep in snuffly sleep. Elin sank back onto her bed, glad that she no longer had to walk the verbal tight-rope that was conversation with Al but regretting that she had returned from the common room empty handed. Another cup of that nice tea would be most welcome. But she had been too eager to leave to catch Rowan or Penny's eye and to reach the kitchen she must run the gauntlet of the whole common room. She sighed and rubbed her cold feet. Never mind.

[blantyr]

“Always like this?" the woman said. "I could not say after so short an acquaintanceship – and I must leave you to decide for yourself. I need to check on my daughter”

Goldie nodded in acknowledgement. One doesn't keep a mother from her child.

The other turned to the halfling. “I’ll tell you about the Blackroot another time, when you are less…distracted maybe”

The Blackroot? Goldie listened again to the patterns in the woman's voice. Yes, she might well come from far away. She might well know something first hand about the Blackroot. Still, Goldie wasn't in the Shire to research old songs and ancient tales. She could have stayed in Lindon for that. She suspected that this woman, while she might know the river as a river, wouldn't have much to say about ambiguous old prophecies. If she had much sense, she might be no more enthused about the root of the Blackroot than the locals would be about the Old Forest.

So Goldie nodded to the woman, let her pass, and considered the halfling. She had met elves who didn't like dwarves, tame men that didn't like wild men, Fallohide that didn't like Stoor and womenfolk who didn't much like their own menfolk. Nobody liked orks. Always a reason. Sometimes a good reason. Less often did talking about it do a whit of good.

Still, sometimes lancing a boil was good healing, and those with true hate often enjoyed hearing themselves talk.

"Is 'distracted' the correct word?'"

[Durelin]

Reginald blinked at the Hobbit's expression. Raggedy trout fin? Hobbits of the Shire were certainly a tad bit odder than those in Bree. But then, he supposed, those in Bree were simply a little more like Men, living near them, even if each group kept to themselves. Or maybe that was it. They just kept to themselves.

He followed Tolly's turned head and looked to see the dark haired woman from earlier, whom he could not help but be curious about, and...who was that? Certainly there was something different about the dark haired woman, as well, but there was something far stranger about this golden haired one...one of the Fair Folk?

Reginald quickly looked away to stare at his food, and awkwardly took a drink. For a moment there he was sure he was gaping. He looked at Tolly as the Hobbit gossiped about the newest arrival. It seemed as if he was accustomed to being in the same room as one of the Elves!

At Tolly’s comment Reginald realized he had not really been paying attention to what the lady Elf was saying. But then the dark haired woman had gotten up and left the Hobbit she was speaking with, and his gaze followed her out of the common room. What had just happened?

“Did she just chase that woman away?” he remembered to whisper. “The Elf, I mean.” Reginald allowed his eyes to dart quickly to catch another glance of the Elf, who had taken up speaking with the Hobbit now…who looked extremely uncomfortable. “Yea…I would say your gaffer has the right word. Though I don’t know how those folk usually are.”

[Galadriel55]

Al jumped when a silvery voice behind him said, "My pardon. I am, alas, myself. Goldie. Goldie Seasong. Is this one often like this?" Turning around, he saw the elven maiden who had just came into the inn. He didn't hear her approaching him. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend that Goldie was referring to him, a notion that made indignation and outrage burst forth. I always said that these 'Fair Folk' aren't alright! Something queer with their minds! Just look at this one - no manners, no nothing in her! Sneaks up behind me, doesn't introduce herself to me, and talks over my head as if I wasn't here!

“Always like this? I could not say after so short an acquaintanceship – and I must leave you to decide for yourself. I need to check on my daughter,” Elin replied to Goldie. Well, this lady has more sense! Maybe it has something to do with hair colour - she's golden and me and Elin are dark-haired. Dark brown is close enough to black... However, the prospect of being left alone to face Goldie was not something he appreciated. Turning to Al, Elin added, “I’ll tell you about the Blackroot another time, when you are less… distracted maybe.” Al nodded.

Al puffed up his chest in what he thought to be a dignified manner and pointedly stared at the wall, hoping that Goldie would go away. His hopes were broken when she forced him to get into a conversation by asking him for an opinion:

"Is 'distracted' the correct word?" Hmm, I was distracted when she intruded. However, that didn't seem the right thing to say. And what business does she have picking at Lady Elin's words? As my muther said, first speak well yourself, and then meddle in others' speech!

"If Lady Elin meant to say what she did, then there is no question about it," Al said stiffly, continuing to stare at the wall. Cabbages and potatoes! What a nuisance!

[blantyr]

Ah, well. There were other inns.

"Then the best I might do is remove the distraction. A good day to you sir."

At which point she turned to walk calmly out the door.

[Galadriel55]

Good. Looks like she's finally leaving. Al resisted a sigh of relief, and, in a way, victory. He didn't respond to Goldie's goodbye, because It serves her right!

All this Fir-Folk business was making Al very thirsty, and hungry too. He felt an absolute necessity for a refill of ale and another plate of food.. "Miz Penny," he called, this time louder than the previous, just to make sure that he is heard, "would you mind bringing me seconds of both the lunch and your wonderful beer?"

[Undómë]

‘And I figure that way, we’ll have time that way to clean out a few cupboards and start rearranging . . .’

Cook’s last words were still hanging in the air as Rowan headed out the kitchen door to the common room. She wanted to avoid any further conversation on what needed to be done and who was going to do what. As far as she was concerned there was nothing wrong with the organization of the kitchen. ‘I sure hope this Cook’s here for a good, long time . . . don’t want to have to get used to another one’s whims and wishes!’

It was just as she entered the room that she saw the golden haired woman turning to leave the Inn. One of the big folk, she wondered – no, one of the fair folk by her stature and grace.

Rowan sighed. And there was Master Alferad, calling out for Penny to bring more food and beer. And where was Penny? She spotted her sitting at the table with Granny. Rowan raised her brows at the pair. Had Granny managed to convince Penny she should meet her grandson? She was a sly old fox, was granny. And poor Penny was not yet used to her ways.

With a brief stop behind the bar to draw a fresh mug of ale for Al, Rowan hurried to the hobbit’s side. ‘Here’s your drink, Master Alferad,’ she said, holding the mug out to him. ‘Now just settle yourself comfortably in your chair and I’ll fetch you your seconds. Beans, ham, biscuits, honey…..the whole spread, yes?’

‘By the way,’ she said, pursing her lips as she raised her chin toward the door. ‘Who was that Elven lady that just left? Was she looking for someone or something here at the Inn and didn’t find it? Seems like she took her leave awful quick like.’

[piosenniel]

Penny

‘Uh oh! Granny, you’re going to have to excuse me.’ Penny gestured toward where Rowan stood talking to Alferad. ‘Looks like one of the customers needs something. And I’d better see to it since I think he was calling out for me.’

She reached over and patted Granny on the arm. ‘Maybe when the lunch traffic slows down I can come sit with you again.’ She gave the old hobbit a little half-smile. ‘I have to admit my curiosity is piqued by your words about your grandson. But there are a few questions I have before I might consider meeting him.’ And there’s no guarantee he’s the least bit interested in meeting me in return! she thought soberly to herself. Penny raised her brows at Granny, her eyes twinkling. ‘So for goodness sake, don’t go planning the wedding while I’m away!’

‘Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,’ Penny said approaching Rowan and Al. ‘Did I miss something?’ she asked, just catching the last of Rowan's comments.

[Galadriel55]

Although in reality Al only had to wait a few seconds before Rowan came by to take his order, it felt like an hour, so eager was he to sink his teeth into the delicious food. She brought a mug of beer, but no plates. Al was disappointed. However, his spirits lifted at the waitress' words.

"Now just settle yourself comfortably in your chair and I’ll fetch you your seconds. Beans, ham, biscuits, honey…..the whole spread, yes?" Al nodded solemnly. The food wasquite important, yes - but did Rowan have to talk to him like a child? "Settle yourself comfortably" indeed! As if I wasn't here for the past hour and have just came in!

"By the way, who was that Elven lady that just left?" Rowan continued in a whisper, "Was she looking for someone or something here at the Inn and didn’t find it? Seems like she took her leave awful quick like."

Al didn't have to think about his reply. He opened his mouth to answer, when Penny came over, apologizing and asking what she's missed.

"Miz Rowan asked me about Goldie, the woman of the Fair Folk, who just left. And I was about to answer. I wanted to say that her name is Goldie, and that she doesn't have any manners nor a civil tongue. Of course, I ain't got no business knowing why she's here; I wouldn't know her name if she just didn't talk to Mistress Elin over my head. No introduction, no hello from her at all! She left for good is what I say." Al felt his stomach rumbling and his impatience growing, even though he finished a good plate of beans just some half an hour ago.

[Undómë]

‘Hmmm,’ was all that Rowan could manage after Alferad’s description of what had happened. She furrowed her brow and rubbed her chin as she thought through the situation.

‘Listen, Penny,’ she said, touching the other lass’ arm. Can you fetch Mater Alferad his food? And, oh, do you think you might take a pot of hot tea to Mistress Elin’s room, too? I’m thinking she could use a cup or two while she relaxes. Nothing like a cuppa to set your mind at ease my Gammer always says.’

Rowan grabbed a shawl off the hook by the door and stepped out the door. As the chilly breeze swirled in around her, she drew the shawl a little closer about her shoulders and hurried down the little path leading from the Perch.

She squinted her eyes and looked as far down the path as she could see, then to each side with as much concentration. In the soft, grey light of the autumn afternoon, she could see no evidence of the long-gone Elven lady.

'Ah, well!' she thought to herself. 'There's customers aplenty in side the Inn that need seeing to.'

Rowan hurried back to the common room, already hearing the cries of, 'Hey, Miss! Another round here, if you please!' With a quick smile and quicker feet, she filled mugs and delivered them to the thirsty patrons.

[piosenniel]

Penny

‘Here you go then, Master Alferad,’ Penny said, hurrying back from the kitchen with a tray of steaming dishes. ‘A generous bowl of beans and ham . . . and I’ve brought you a small dish of chopped onion. Wasn’t sure you like them, but thought I’d bring it anyway. And here’s a little basket of hot, fluffy biscuits. With butter here and a pot of strawberry jam and one of honey, too.’ She laid the food out before the hobbit. ‘Enjoy!’ Penny set a full mug of ale down next to the other one that Rowan had brought earlier. ‘Thought it might be a two mug meal.’

With a smile and quick curtsy, Penny left Al to his meal and made her way to Mistress Elin’s room. She rapped softly on the door, not wanting to wake the little girl if she were napping.

‘Mistress Elin . . . m’am?’ she called out quietly. ‘It’s Penny. Rowan’s sent me with some hot tea for you.’

Penny waited for a few moments, but could hear no stirring in the room. 'Well, perhaps she's tired, too, from all her traveling.' She set the thick-cozied pot and cups on the little table just outside Elin's door and hurried away quietly.

[Mithalwen]

Elin awoke with a start and after a moment of confusion as to where she was, came to her senses. Someone had been calling her name, not in her dream, not Annie who a glance told her still slept and who would have called her "mummy" anyway. Caught the wrong side of the bed from the door, by the time Elin reached it, Penny was well down the hallway.

"Penny, wait! " she called, heading after her, "I must have dozed off!" . Elin realised her hair had come unpinned and that she was still holding her knitting. She smiled ruefully at the hobbit as her longer legs caught up. "Thank you for the tea - I was just thinking I'd like some... or at least I was before I fell asleep. I don't want to keep you when you're busy but do they keep much store of herbs in the kitchen here? I won't find much growing this time of the year but there are a few things that a cook might have that would ease Annie's cold a bit - garlic, mint, thyme, licorice maybe?"

[piosenniel]

Penny

‘Store of herbs and such in the kitchen? Oh, dear, Mistress Elin!’ Penny furrowed her brow a bit and shook her head. ‘Now, I’m not saying we don’t have any of what you asked for, it’s just that Cousin Iris and I just started working here at the Inn - today.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Guess the old Cook up and disappeared on them and they’ve been having to make do – Rowan and Prim, that is, all by themselves.’

‘Hmmmm, how about I go back to the kitchen and ask Prim if we have those? I could bring them to you.’ Penny glanced back toward Elin’s room. ‘Course, if you think the wee one’ll sleep a bit more, you can come on back to the kitchen and make up your concoction there. We haven’t started making supper as yet, so it’d be no trouble.’

[Mithalwen]

"Your first day? Really? I never would have guessed - you seem a part of the place already. Though I had heard of the cook's disappearance. It must have made things very difficult." Elin paused for a moment's consideration. "I think, if I won't be too much in the way it would be easier if I came to the kitchen. I'll probably have to steep anything we find in hot water anyway. I'll just check on Annie and be along shortly." Penny nodded and Elin turned and went back to the room to find her daughter had just woken and had missed her.

"You lef'me" Annie was not at her best when first awake even when well and she looked both grumpy and accusing as she addressed her mother.

"I was only in the corridor, talking to Penny; she brought me some tea and we didn't want to wake you, my darling", Elin had knelt by the little bed and drawn her child in to her arms to comfort her. She planted a kiss on the small frowning brow. "But I do want to go to the kitchen to see if I can make you a special drink to make you feel better. You'd be alright here with Isildur wouldn't you?"

Annie shook her head firmly "Don't want you to go." She tightened her fists around handfuls of her mother's dress.

"So you want to come with me? Well if you do, remember if you are well enough to be up, you are well enough to behave. Agreed? " Annie nodded.

So Elin helped Annie back into her blue wool dress and pulled from her bag slippers and a soft wool shawl of a lighter bluewhich she wrapped closely about the child. Then digging deeper she pulled out a squarish oilcloth wrapped bundle and deciding that she would follow Penny's example rather than try to pin up her hair in a hurry, she found a raspberry pink scarf to restrain her own curls. Finally they were ready to go. She shepherded Annie along with one hand and managed the bundle and the tea tray with the other.

She managed to create enough sense of purpose in crossing the common room that no one waylaid her but she did notice that Al was once again alone save his vittles. Though she chided herself for a lack of charity even as she thought it, it occurred to Elin that things that couldn't think for themselves were perhaps the best company for that hobbit.

Reaching the kitchen, Elin tapped gently on the open door. "May I come in? I am afraid I have brought the patient with me - she woke up and didn't want to be left alone."

[Folwren]

The rush for lunch was ebbing. There were fewer patrons in the inn now. Rowan was gathering plates and mugs from the tables and carrying them back to the kitchen. Seredic wiped the newly cleaned mugs just carried out from the kitchen and stowed them away beneath the counter.

“Goodbye, Andy,” he said to a departing customer, and then he looked at the last hobbit in the room. Mr. Alferad Brandybuck. He had not spoken to him since his initial arrival, and he had not been much impressed with the hobbit then. But Seredic made it a point to try to be friendly with customers, and it looked like Al was going to stay, so he put down the last mug, threw the cloth behind the kegs of ale, and came round the counter and approached the young hobbit.

“Will you be staying long?” he asked. “In amongst the rush there, I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask you. You’re from Buckland, if I’m not mistaken, though I don’t believe you ever said. . .”

[Undómë]

Rowan shoved the tray of mugs and plates onto the counter by the sink, carefully avoiding the soapy water spilled in splishes and splashes on the floor. Prim was in full swing with the dishrag and brush, scrubbing tea stains from cups, dried foam from mugs, and the dried bits of the now past lunch from a precarious stack of plates and bowls.

‘Give it a rest, Prim!’ Rowan urged her friend. ‘Here, have a seat,’ she went on, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table. ‘I’ll just put on a full kettle for some tea. You set out the honey. And grab some of those crispy nut cookies Iris set in the pantry. Mmmm mmm, they looked good for dunking is what I’m thinking.’ She fetched water in the largest kettle, intending to use what was left from the tea-making to heat up the wash and rinse waters. ‘We can tackle the dishes and such after a bit of a treat and a rest-up.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘Besides, I have to tell you how old Granny got hold of our Miz Penny and was sizing her up to join the Greenhill brood.’

The door was slightly open to the side yard of the Inn, off to the left, where the garden was. Sounded like Cook talking. Brrrr! There was a cold draft scurrying through the opening in little gusts.

‘Making tea!’ Rowan called out in a loud voice. ‘Come in out of the cold, why don’t you and warm up!’

[Snowdog]

The waggon rolled slowly along the road as it approached Stock. Darrell Largebarrel was enjoying his trek down from Oatbarton and through the Shire. Long had he supplied the ales exclusively to the Green Dragon, but he wanted to expand. So with his original line of brews remained exclusive, he had gotten a contract to supply a tap at the Floating Log in Frogmorton. He was hoping for the same at the Golden Perch in Stock. He huddled deeper into his cloak in hopes it would turn the wind. But being from the North Farthing, he appeared under-dressed for the chill to the locals he passed in the East Farthing.

"The town is in sight old boy!"

he said to Benny his workhorse. Benny didn't seem to excited other than realizing he would be getting some oats and fresh hay. He rolled slowly up and onto the side of the road near the inn. Seeing someone working a herb garden he waved as he stopped.

"Another inn old boy. We'll likely be here for the night, and hopefully I'll get a chance to bend the ear of the proprietor. Here you go..."

Darrell gave Benny a carrot to chew before he headed for the door. Pulling it open he could hear the faint din of dishes rattling and voices mixing. He walked to the bar, giving a nod of greeting as he said,

"Good afternoon! A mug of your house beer if you please"

[Mithalwen]

Elin shivered a little in the wind - the hobbit cloak she had borrowed from the kitchen was no more than a cape on her long frame. She had found some herbs alive in a sheltered spot by the back door: thyme, sage, chives, mint, sweet woodruff and a rather leggy rosemary bush. They were mostly dormant and she had picked only a few sprigs that might serve if there were none in the kitchen - she had tried the garden first to make the most of the light on this short winter day.

Annie had been left inside - her cold had been temporarily forgotten when she had discovered the big grey tabby cat nested in a basket in the pantry. Happily the creature was good natured enough to at least tolerate the child's affection and Elin hoped that so occupied, her daughter would be no trouble to that kind Miss Rowan, while she was outside with Penny's cousin Iris. The older hobbit woman had been bemoaning the state of the cabbages in particular.

"Yes, you are right it has been let go - but there is nothing that a bit of time and effort couldn't put straight" said Elin to Iris as they surveyed the kitchen garden, forlorn in its neglect and the November wind. "The bones are here... you can tell it has been well tended in the past.. it wouldn't be like starting from scratch". She stooped down and ran a handful of earth through her fingers. "This is good tilth save for the weeds. The main problem as I see it is is that it is a bit late in the year for winter planting - my grandmother reckoned that should be done by the end of October and we were a good deal to the south. I suppose it might be worth trying unless your winters here are very harsh..." .

Iris' reply was interrupted by Rowan calling from the kitchen. It wasn't so long since the last cup of tea but another would be welcome still.

[Galadriel55]

After such a hearty meal and a pint or two of the best beer in all of Shire, Al was feeling quite drowsy - not so drowsy as to take a nap, but enough not to go looking for trouble. For the past hour he has dined alone, brooding on the injustice of the people around him and the wrongs they have done him. But it is known, in the words of his renowned grandmother, that a mug of good ale makes old grievances stale, and soon enough Al's mood cleared and he dwelt more on his drink than on his grudges.

He did not move as the other visitors steped out one by one into the wind and the room enptied. He did not even notice that he was the last customer left. His reverie ended when the innkeeper came up to him and asked politely about how long Al woud be staying.

“In amongst the rush there, I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask you," he explained. "You’re from Buckland, if I’m not mistaken, though I don’t believe you ever said. . .”

"From Buckland indeed, from Brandy Hall itself!" Al replied, content for the time being to talk about his home and his plans with Master Boffin. "You ain't going to find nothing better! You should come visit it sometime!" Al paused to take another sip of ale. "I'm on my way to Tookbank, you know. I'm a taking my time getting there. Small, drab, moth-eaten place it is. But my mother's kin has the rotten luck to live there." Al sighed and sipped his mead again.

[Folwren]

Good heavens, this chap can be long winded! Dick said to himself as Al answered in an entirely speech what would have been better answered in two sentences or less. And when he had finished answering, Dick found that he hadn’t actually answered at all.

“So that means you would be staying how long, exactly?” Dick asked again, patiently. He had seen hobbits consume a great deal of ale and Al had drunk more than two pints already since he arrived that morning. It would be understandable if his wits were a little addled by the brew.

Before Al could respond, a new customer came in through the front door. Dick patted Al’s shoulder and turned to greet the new gentlehobbit.

“Good afternoon!” the stranger said. “A mug of your house bear, if you please.”

“Certainly,” Dick replied, coming around the counter and picking up a mug. He filled it to the brim, the froth threatening to spill down the edges and handed it to the hobbit. “You a stranger in these parts?”

[Snowdog]

Darrell eyed the mug of beer as it was handed to him.

"Yes, Darrell Largebarrel is me name and I hail from near Oatbarton up in North Farthing. Never get out if that area much xcept to make special deliveries to the Green Dragon in Bywater. Someone there told me 'bout the Floating Log in Frogmorton, so when I went to visit, someone there told me 'bout the Golden Perch here in Stock."

He took a long swig from his beer after he eyed the head. Satisfying after his ride, Darrell said,

"Nice beer. Nice inn you have here too if ya don' mind me sayin'."

He sipped his beer again as he eyed the bar and pondered whether there was space for a cask of his ale and if the proprietor would be willing to give it a try.

"I can gather a sense of Oatley hops in this beer. Wouldn't mind procuring a cask for myself. Maybe you could advise me as to who the brewer of such fine amber is?"

He took another sip before swirling it about slightly in the mug.

[Folwren]

"Yes, Darrell Largebarrel is me name and I hail from near Oatbarton up in North Farthing. Never get out if that area much xcept to make special deliveries to the Green Dragon in Bywater. Someone there told me 'bout the Floating Log in Frogmorton, so when I went to visit, someone there told me 'bout the Golden Perch here in Stock."

Then this hobbit was someone who sold goods to inns, Dick said to himself as he listened to the stranger’s introduction. He would soon find out what his wares were, no doubt.

"Nice beer,” Darrell said when Dick made no reply. “Nice inn you have here too if ya don' mind me sayin'."

Dick nodded and looked about. He appreciated the old place for its integrity and well known reputation of fine hospitality and better beer. He found that maintaining such a place was not always as easy as he had originally supposed when he came into possession of it.

"I can gather a sense of Oatley hops in this beer,” Darrell observed, pulling Dick’s attention back to him. “Wouldn't mind procuring a cask for myself. Maybe you could advise me as to who the brewer of such fine amber is?"

“Why that’s the beer brewed in our own county,” Dick said with satisfaction. “That’s what’s got us our name, see? Drew Berrybanks and his family’s brewed it for the last hundred years.” Was it really a hundred years? Maybe not. Dick didn’t want to do the math just now. “You can find him popping in here sometimes on an evening. Otherwise, he lives out of town by the east road.

“So you provide the Floating Log and Green Dragon with your wares? What do you sell, Mr. Largebarrel?”

[Undómë]

Prim stood just outside the door to the pantry as she motioned to Rowan with her hand and gave a muffled, ‘Psssst…’! She could barely hold back the chuckle that threatened to escape her lips.

Rowan hurried over, her brow furrowed. What on earth was so funny back there among the crocks and jars and shelves and sacks of grains? As she drew nearer she could hear a quiet babble of intertwining voices, punctuated by the occasional muffled, guttural sound. Rowan peeked around the door’s edge, her eyes going wide at the sight.

There was Annie kneeling over the rag basket, her little hands busy wrapping a strip of rag she was using as a bandage around old Granny Whiskers’ front leg. In her own voice she was cooing at Granny in a soothing manner, asking the old cat if she felt better now. And in a lower pitched voice she was answering back as Granny, announcing that yes the leg feels better now, but some bad rat had bit her on the tail just yesterday and it was hurting something awful. Granny Whiskers was hardly able to say much else on her own behalf as there was an old woolen sock placed round her head to help mend some affliction in that area – thus the source of muffled, guttural sounds Rowan had heard.

To her feline credit, Granny Whiskers had not used her claws on the young, well intentioned healer. But, as the girl turned her focus toward the old cat’s tail, Granny mobilized her considerable bulk and leaped from the basket.

Trailing streamers of raggedy bandages like some old mouldering wraith, she sprinted across the kitchen floor making for the open door as if chased by ghastly wights. She caromed off a pair of shoes and bumped between a pair of ankles in her desperate hurry to escape to the safety of the old garden shed.

Her little fists balled on her hips, Annie shook her head at her now escaped patient.

“How rude of her!’ Rowan tsk-tsk’d in a sympathetic voice. ‘And here you were just trying to help her!!’

[Galadriel55]

Al sighed and gulped down the remains of his ale. Why was it that people always just left him by himself in the middle of an important conversation? How rude!

Feeling sympathetic for himself and very unsympathetic toward the inkeeper, Al made his way to the talking twain, his empty mug in hand. He heard the end of the conversation.

"The brewer of 'such fine amber' can go be eaten by the wereworms!" he said before the newcomer could answer the last question. "All this Drew Berrybanks can make is some spittle in a jar! This brown water's not worth the mug 't's in, and the mug ain't worth 'tself either." All paused, while the other two regarded him. Al broke the silence, handing his mug to Seredic:

"Another one of those, Master Boffin!"

Even when he was as angry as a boiling kettle, Al never forgot his hobbitish common sense and courtesy.

[Mithalwen]

"I was!" said Annie earnestly, looking up at Rowan from where she still knelt on the pantry floor There was a plaintive note to her voice and a hint of bafflement in her blue eyes. "She had a poorly tail anna hurty paw and the worst toothache in the whole world -an' now she's gone".

Suddenly the little girl rocked back and huddled against the sacks and burying her face against them trying to hide the sobs that she could no longer stifle and which had little to do with the cat's departure. "Everybody goes. Nobody stays" her little voice was muffled and forlorn. Her mother could be heard just outside the open door now - remarking on the hurtling progress of Granny Whiskers across the garden. But Annie was too full of cold and misery to find solace in it. She pulled her shawl closer around her and screwed her eyes tight shut but tears still trickled down her face.

[Snowdog]

Darrell knew Drew from a brewer's convention up in Bywater a while back. Gave him a few tips, and took a few too. Good to know Drew had some pubs locked in and he didn't want to usurp his market. Dick went on,

“So you provide the Floating Log and Green Dragon with your wares? What do you sell, Mr. Largebarrel?”

Darrell smiled and replied,

"Why I make various ales as I see fit. Could make one special to this here inn if I knowed yer tastes. Some like it hoppy, some like it malty, and some, a bit of smoke peat soothes the taste."

Hearing the ramblings of of a well-inebriated hobbit. Surely he likes Drew's brews despite his words. Darrell said to Dick,

I'd not mind sellin' to ya, but it seems Dick has things well in hand here. I'll leave a couple firkins for you to serve if you see fit, and if you should want more, send a card by Shire Post to me, Darrell, general delivery at Oatbarton. I'll see about having some kegs delivered. But I don't want to cut in on Drew, though I know he does a roaring trade in the South Farthing."

Darrell thought of leaving a firkin of the Midnight Stout and the Sunset Red, thinking it would not contest with the amber that Drew has been providing.

"I'm thinking of heading east to Bree-town. but should be back in the Shire in due time. If Drew stops in, tell him I said g'day."

Darrell had the two firkins brought in, and with a nod, wished everyone a fine day. He was off to the Buckleberry Ferry. It would be a long ride.

[Mithalwen]

Elin

Elin hearing Annie's distress rushed across the kitchen to kneel by her child and draw her on to her lap.

"What is the matter, sweetheart? Did the cat scratch you?" She stroked the little girl's face brushing away her tears as she looked for evidence.

Annie shook her head vehemently and repeated her plaintive explanation. Elin pulled a wry face at the hobbit women over Annie's shoulder but managed just to remove any trace of amusement from her voice as she spoke "Don't fret... She probably only went because she felt so much better... she certainly looked in fine fettle when she went past me." her voice cracked slightly at the end and she resisted making the observation that she had never seen a cat of that size manage such a turn of speed. She stifled any further trace of mirth by planting soft kiss on her daughter's brow. Mollified a little Annie had nodded and accepted her mother's comforting.

"I am more worried about you, you still aren't very well are you my lamb?" The child's forehead had been a little too hot and her eyelids were shadowed and drowsy.

"If Iris and Primrose and Rowan don't mind shall we make a little nest for you in this lovely big basket just while I take a look at what they have on these shelves?" she laid her borrowed cloak over the rags and Annie exhausted by her tears, curled up on top wrapping the rest of the cloak over her her temporarily neglected little rabbit clasped again in her fist. "I will make you some medicine and maybe if it tastes nasty, Penny will let us have some more of that milk and honey...." Annie half nodded but sleep was already claiming her.

Elin rose and sighed suddenly a little weary herself. "Poor child, what am I doing to her?" she said to herself as much as anyone else. Then she straightened and smiled."So shall we have that tea?"

[piosenniel]

~*~ Moving this thread to Elvenhome ~*~

To day is 5/29/2015 - last post to this thread was 10-15-2012.