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In search of a steaming cup of ginger tea, Hilde walked from tent to tent, eliciting strange looks from the bartenders until she happened upon one she knew and who took pity on her letting her see if she could fix something for herself. “I don’t have no ginger for ginger tea though, Miss Hilde.” he apologized.
“I’m sure there is something back here that will do”, Hilde replied eyeing the strange bottles with even stranger hued liquids within them. Just then a very tall man in a flowing black leather coat and an eye patch strode up, the bartender being busy with a large group this strange man asked Hilde for a pint of Dortmunder gold. “Dwarfmunder?” Hilde repeated rummaging around behind the table. “I’m sorry, we don’t have none o’ that. But we have plenty o’ Schaeffer…on tap no less!”
“No, Ach no!” the man protested muttering an extra comment or two about hobbits and Schaeffer that Hilde didn’t quite catch. “Rum then! You do have rum don’t you?” Quite flustered, Hilde ducked down and found a bottle of the stuff under the skirts of the table. With a nervous smile she handed the unopened bottle to the man, who gave her a mock bow with a flourish before stalking off. Hilde looked quickly to see if the barkeeper had seen this transaction, thankfully he was quite busy with his blender preparing some rather exotic concoctions.
Grabbing a cup of coffee and hastily splashing in some whiskey, for flavor, Hilde headed for the food. She saw her husband had planted himself at a table, and already had several empty glasses beside him as well as two plates. Having a lively conversation with a couple of dwarves, his loud laugh could be heard erupting with surprising frequency. Ah, he is enjoying himself, she thought.
Surveying the food spread out across several tables, Hilde picked up a few strips of lemon scented venison, setting them on her saucer, and spying a dish of toffee that was quickly disappearing, she picked one up and plopped it in her coffee before rejoining her husband. Walking back toward his table, the hobbit recognized Miss Pio by the stage. And catching the elf’s glance she raised her cup of coffee aloft for a toast, “TO THE SHIRE!” , she shouted at the top of her voice, where upon she felt an odd feeling of warmth trickle down her arm, as her coffee bubbled over and then quite unexpectedly exploded.
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