[Dunwen]

Widow Rosebank had scarcely had time to tuck into her tasty breakfast when a hobbit woman at the next table asked if she would like to join her. The widow wasn't surprised. Hobbits were generally gregarious, and never more so than at mealtimes. This hobbit looked like she might be a bit younger than the widow, and had an open, friendly air about her. She looked like she would be good company, and perhaps might be willing to talk about the Shire.

Unfortunately, the widow had just taken a large bite of egg and was unable to respond immediately. By the time she chewed and swallowed, her neighbor was speaking to one of the servers. The Bree-woman continued to eat as the little hobbit invited a somber-looking Elf to join her. She would have liked to go over then, just to get a closer look at him. She had dealt with Men of all sorts, and Hobbits and Dwarves often enough, but Elves traveling on the Great Road tended to go around the thickly populated Bree-land. She had once spoken briefly to an Elf she had met by chance a few years ago while walking through her daughter and son-in-law's fields, but that was the only contact she had had with the Fair Folk. However, he and the hobbit woman appeared to be having a private conversation, speaking quietly with their heads together.

As the Elf got up from the hobbit's table, Widow Rosebank thought she'd better get over there before the sociable stranger had to leave. She got up and slung her saddlebags over her shoulder. Picking up her mug and plate, she walked over and greeted the hobbit woman.

"Thank you kindly for asking me to join you. I do apologize for not answering you right away. I only travelled from Frogmorton this morning, but the fresh air does give you an appetite. If you don't have to leave right away, I could do with some company, not having been to the Shire before." Carefully setting her food and drink down, she shrugged the saddlebags off her shoulder and set them on the floor. "How d'you do," she said politely, once she had a hand free to offer the stranger. "I'm Ebba Rosebank, pleased to meet you."

The two shook hands. "I'm Miz Bella," replied the hobbit. "Pleased to meet you, too. Tell me how it is a Breelander finds her way to the Shire."

Ebba considered her answer for a moment. "Well, I do business with some of the farmers here who have sheep. I have a nice little store in Bree -- Rosebank's Drygoods and Notions," she said proudly, "and I sell wool for yarns and stitchery as well as cloth of all sorts, and a few things from Dale and the South, too. While I'm all for selling Bree-goods as much as I can, the wool from the Shire is as nice as I've seen, and there are more sheep here -- there would be, of course, the Shire is bigger than the Bree-lands -- and more wool. So I've dealt with some of your farmers for years through traders and such. Seeing as how my girls are old enough to mind the store for me, and as how I've never been out of the Bree-lands before, I thought I'd come myself this year. I've had customers traveling from the Shire for years talking about this tree of Mayor Gamgee's up at Bag End, and I've always wanted to see it. All gold it's supposed to be."

She stopped to take a sip of hot tea. "And then they're talking all the way to Bree about this fair you've got coming up, and I don't mind telling you that I'm mighty interested in that." She nodded significantly to Miz Bella. "I have a little business proposition for whoever is running it."

"Here now, I've run on about myself long enough. Are from you Bywater yourself?" Ebba settled back in her chair to give Miz Bella her turn to talk.