[Amanaduial the archer]

As Hawthorne rattled on good-naturedly and proudly, from the moment she pronounced Brandybuck lengthily, Aman was unable to keep a half-smile from her lips, try as she might, as she recalled the relaxed, mischievious and often scruffy Merry. A flash came to her, of catching him one day, as he and Pippin entered through the tradesmens' door of Brandy Hall, tiptoeing carefully on muddy feet, and freezing as they saw her leaning against the door, before both shamelessly tried a 'winning smile'. Aman grinned inside herself, then sighed almost inperceptibly; both were now bound to such high fates, Pippin in line to become Thain, Merry now Master Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Brandy Hall.

All the time, Hawthorne kept up her cheery chatter, and Aman snapped back to the present guiltily, relieved when she realised she hadn't missed much, but was flattered at the hobbit's next words.

"...Master Merry spoke highly of you."

Aman was unable to stop her smile spreading slightly, foolish though she knew it was: the idea that the highly born little hobbit, always ready to talk and joke to all, had remembered her, and favourably, was indeed flattering. Passing a 'letter of reference' to Aman, Hawthorne took a second to beam again, clasping her hands behind her back as she watched the Innkeeper slit the fine, velvety-green parchment with a small knife from her pocket (not with the larger knife hidden in her skirts - not many of the customers would ever get to know that as there, and that was best. It would not do to terrify one of Merry's little cousins.

Bringing her hands back out, Hawthorne began to count her virtues on her fingers, and Aman rightly guessed that, despite her cheery demeanour, Hawthorne was indeed nervous, needing something to do. Aman listened before she started scanning the letter, first simply taking in the fine paper and writing, pleasing to hand in eye. She was beginning, despite trying to keep an open mind, a rather skeptical feeling about Hawthorne but sure, she seemed a good sort anyway, and a reference in the girl's speech to 'Nanny Cami' made Aman think (or hope, she wasn't entirely sure which) that she couldn't be entirely senseless.

My dear Aman...

Aman paused suddenly, looking sharply up at Hawthorne, realising what she had indeed just said. She hesitated, then started rather hesitantly, "Good with...servants?"

Hawthorne nodded enthusiaticly, her curls bobbing sweetly. "I should think so, yes."

"And..." Aman's slight sinking feeling was know becoming a deep-river diver. "...help me...run the Inn?"

Hawthorne didn't seem to notice her discomfort, nodding again. "Absolutely, Aman, I would be glad to help in managing the Inn." Aman couldn't help but notice the lack of the almost obligitory 'Miss' she had become so used to, and the word 'managing' creeping in. Strange, how she wouldn't have minded in Rohan, but this could be a bit of a handful...now how to handle it tactfully...

"You haven't held a paid position before though?" Aman queried gently and seriously, as if in a real interview. Hawthorne paused but only for the space of an eye-blink. "I'm sure that wouldn't be too much of a set-back," she hazarded. "After all, for someone of my upbringing and family..." she trailed off, and her hands had vanished behind her back again. Aman saw the sleeves of the dress twitching slightly, as if the girl was twisting her hands nervously. She regarded the hobbit for a moment, then held up a serous finger.

"I think," she began, looking Hawthorne in the eye. "I think maybe that a slightly lower position would be better at the beginning? Not to insult you, of course, Miss Hawthorne," she added hastily. "But I'm sure someone of your teaching and family will be able to understand. After all, there may be room for promotion, hmm? I don't suppose I need any help actually running the Inn at the moment, per say...but there is always help to be done around the place."

Hawthorne seemed thunderstruck, and opened her mouth to begin, but Aman got there first, as quickly as she could without being rude. "Excuse me one moment; I'll just read the letter. Have a little think about the idea, hmm?" Smiling briefly, she looked down to the fine hand, a voice forming in her head as she read, the voice of Master Merry.

My Dear Aman,

It has been years since our paths last crossed. I so enjoyed your visit and Pio's to Brandy Hall.

So much has happened. My dear father recently passed away and I have now taken on the duties of making sure things run well in Buckland. Sometimes I long for the old days, when my greatest headache was deciding whether to steal mushrooms or cabbages out of Farmer Maggott's gardens!

I am afraid I have a great favor to ask of you. The bearer of this letter is my cousin Hawthorne Brandybuck, also of Brandy Hall. She is a sweet, good-natured hobbit who has decided to go "adventuring". Hawthorne is a bright lass, but unfortunately has long been under the influence of parents who do not exhibit a shred of common sense. I am ashamed to admit that they too are my relatives!

Hawthorne’s own mother Hornbeam Proudfoot Brandybuck is a silly and frivolous lady whose only concern is how many fancy clothes she can cram into her wardrobe and how she can advance her children’s social standing. To this end, Hornbeam has schemed and plotted to attract half the landed bachelors in Buckland and the Shire as suitors for her daughter. Her father is a timid sort and goes along with Hornbeam's schemes.

Yet I believe there is still hope for Hawthorne. She has turned up her nose at the lads and longs to journey to 'distant' places. As a first step in that direction, I have taken it upon myself to encourage her to move out from under her parents' roof and try her luck elsewhere.

Although I could certainly supply her with funds for such a journey, I have purposely refrained from doing so. Instead, I have impressed upon her the necessity of finding suitable employment, although I am undertain if she understands exactly what that entails!

From my own experience, I can say that journeying to a distant place and having to stand up on your own two furry feet can have a very good affect on a hobbit's character. So I would beg you to consider hiring Hawthorne to help in the Dragon. You will find her eager, if a bit bungling. However, should she do any serious damage to the Inn, I will, of course, reimburse any and all costs..... After all, she is a Brandybuck!

Incidentally, she brings with her a servant and companion, one Dandelion Greenhand, who is a most sensible hobbit. Dandelion will keep an eye on the lass, but will give Hawthorne the illusion of freedom. She is a former nursemaid and will stay with the Gamgee family, helping Rose with the children.

I hope you can return to visit us sometime in Buckland. Please give my regards to Mistress Piosenniel if you should speak with her.

With Best Regards,

Merry, now Master of Brandy Hall
(How strange it seems to write that!)

The sound of Ruby's voice, telling her it would be ten minutes until lunch, came at almost the exact moment when Aman finished reading, her eyes lingering on the writing. Folding the fine green paper and replacing it in its envelope, Aman looked back at Hawthorne thoughtfully as she put the letter into one voluminous pocket, her head on one side.

"Hawthorne," she said thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about food?"