[piosenniel]

It was late in the evening when the grey cloaked Hobbit trudged up to the Inn's rear entrance, her shaggy brown pony ambling slowly behind her, head down.

She tied the pony's lead to a post near the watering trough, and freed him of the packs he carried. He shook his head and mane, glad to have the weight of even her meager possessions off him. She placed a small blanket over his broad little back, and scratched him thoroughly between the ears.

'I'll be back in a short while, Peri. You wait here and I'll find us some food.'

She opened the door cautiously to the kitchen. Miss Violet ran it with a firm hand, and if she decided she didn't like you that day, then out you'ld sail with nothing but your backside to cushion your fall.

'You there, Miss Violet?' she called out in a clear voice, standing one foot inside the door and one foot outside in case a hasty retreat was called for. 'It's Holly . . . from Pincup. My Pa worked for you one summer when we were passing through on our way south.'

The sound of pots banging and someone muttering imprecations came from the darkened room. Holly fumbled for the candle she knew was just to the side of the door in a small lantern. Her fingers remembered where the matches stood, in a holder just to the right of the ledge where stood the lantern.

*snick*

One scratch of a match and a small light sprang up in the gloom soon followed by a larger pool as she found the candle's wick. 'Miss Violet, are you there?'

She found the woman nearly in tears, in front of a stove she couldn't get lit. 'Holly!' she said, in exasperation. 'That Dwarf has dragged this new fangled contraption into my kitchen and I can't figure out how it's to work for the life of me. Supper's due out in an hour and I've nothing to offer but bread and pickles to the guests.'

Holly crouched down and peered at the stove. 'I think we have to open the flue here, and then the wood seems like it should go over here and be lit.' She had seen one of the Dwarvish 'conveniences' once before on her travels to Dale and the Lonely Mountain.

Soon the two women had the stove working properly and Miss Violet hauled out two large skillets, putting them on the burners to heat. A dollop of butter skittered around in each, melting. 'Holly,' she cried, 'you're a gift tonight to be sure of it. Now put on that apron over there, and slice up that ham while I grate the potatoes and onions.'

'Let me just feed my pony then I'll be right back.' She ran to the trough and untying Peri, led him to the Green Dragon's stable. 'We're in luck!' she said to him, 'Miss Violet needs someone to help her, so we've got a place to stay at least for the night. Explaining to the stable boy that she was the new kitchen help, she gave him the pony's lead and left him to his care.

Food was cooked and platters filled with it all within the space of the hour.

Holly put on a clean apron and pushed her unruly mop of black curls back from her face, securing it with a scarlet ribbon.

The booming voice of the Dwarf preceded him through the kitchen's doors. 'We've got some hungry guests out here. Is the food coming?'

'Miss Violet shooed him from her domain, saying, 'You tend to their thirst. We'll see to their stomachs!'

'We?!' said Dwarin, a frown creasing his Dwarven brow.

'Good evening, Master Dwarin!' said Holly sweetly as she hefted a large tray filled with platters of ham and potatoes and bread cut in thick slices and crocks of butter and dishes of fat pickles on the flat of her hand, and held it shoulder height. 'Holly, it is. At your service, tonight.'

She winked saucily and sailed past him, crying in a loud voice for such a small Hobbit, 'Who's hungry?!'