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Rain – torrents of rain – Dick was convinced it was his good luck. Just look – two new customers in as many minutes, if not less, and not only that, but it brought his son for a visit as well. It wasn’t Fred’s lucky day, though, poor lad. The man barging through the door and tumbling Fred over like a bowling pin had nearly given Dick a heart attack, but everything was soon set right, including Fred, as the door shut again and the warmth from the fire spread over the common room.
“My apologies, young master,” the man said to the bewildered hobbit child. “I’m afraid I mistook you for a door stop.”
Fred cast him a doubtful glance and wiped his dripping sleeve over his nose. He concentrated hard on the man’s words before a slow grin passed over his face. “Did you, really?” he asked. “Door stops must be awful large and soft in your town.”
“Haha,” the man chuckled. He reached out to rumple the lad’s head and the hat was knocked to the floor. Fred smiled a little broader and ducked to retrieve it, but his hand bounced off of another hobbit’s hand and when he looked up, he saw it was an older one, reaching for the same hat. A look of dismay flooded the boys face.
“That’s your hat?” Fred asked, trying not to be disappointed. He didn’t know why, but the large, floppy brim had made him fall in love with it, he thought. The hobbit guest didn’t have to answer, Fred knew by instinct, and tears were already gathering in his eyes.
“Here, don’t cry,” Songo said, “you can have it – as a gift. Go on, take it.”
Fred looked up, a bright light leaped back into his naturally merry face, and he received the hat gladly. Songo went off to fetch a mug of cider, but in a moment, he was back, and he captured little Fred and led him off a couple paces and launched into an outlandish adventure of his youth.
Dick’s attention and eyes were drawn away from the hobbit and his child as a new character entered the inn. Another man, by all the glories, and one just as wet and muddy and bedraggled as something that cat would drag in. Dick smiled, a little half heartedly this time (someone was going to have to clean all this water and mud up) and leaned his elbows on the bar, waiting and just knowing that the newcomer would want something to warm him.
“A bit of hot cider, if you’ve got it.”
“By all means, sir,” Dick replied. He filled it and returned it to the bar. “You’ve come far today?”
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