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Willow
Willow paused from talking to the three other hobbit girls, and looked up at Aman. "Ah, hullo, Aman," she said, recognizing the innkeeper. Willow stood up.
"Evening ladies," said Aman, grinning. "Anyone need a drink?"
Willow still had to look up at the Rohan innkeeper, but standing, she was a bit closer to looking her in the eye. "Water?" she asked, grinning helplessly. Willow shrugged. "I am a bit thirsty, though I do not know what I'd like."
"Ah, of course," said Aman.
Willow bit her lip. "It doesn't matter, truly. Could you just get something for us, Aman?" she asked. "It would be greatly appreciated."
Willow tucked her fiddle closer under her arm, out of habit, she had picked it up. She climbed back up on the stool, and sat back down, setting her fiddle on her knees. "Ahh, but I seem to be forgetting my manners," Willow said. "Aman, this is Daisy"-- here she indicated the shorter hobbit-- "Lily"-- this time she noted the Breelands hobbits-- "And Mira"-- here Willow pointed at the last hobbit. "Daisy, Mira, and Lily, this is Aman, the innkeeper here. She is a fine woman."
Willow smiled weakly, but it was true. She had a fine appreciation of the innkeeper, even if she was one of the big people, and Willow wanted to make that clear: even if she didn't have the nerve to say it straight out.
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