[Nurumaiel]

The door of the White Horse swung quickly open and banged against the inside wall, creating a loud noise that echoed through the room, bringing many eyes to stop whatever they were doing and stare. A man dashed in and caught at it, but too late. He quickly pulled it back, studying the wall nervously for any marks it might have made, then looked sheepishly up at Bethberry, who was trying to hide her amused smile. "I hope that no damage has been done?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"I believe that none has," said Bethberry. "Just try to refrain from doing that in the future, please."

"Yes, miss," the man mumbled, running a hand through his ragged yellow hair. He was average height, around six feet, and he was dressed simply in the style of a Rohan peasant. He had kind-looking blue eyes, though at the moment they were rather worried looking as he fingers still scanned the wall. He looked as though he was in his mid-thirties, and Bethberry couldn't help but notice that he smelled of horses.

He gave a sideways look towards Bethberry, and then cleared his throat and closed the door very, very gently behind him. He had obviously learned his lesson. "Are you the innkeeper?" he asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Then I'll get right to the point," he said. "I would like to have some small job here as a stablehand, just so I can earn a little money to feed my family. I used to be a stablehand at a place in Edoras, but - " here he grew indignant " - they thought I wasn't a good enough stablehand and threw me out."

Bethberry raised her eyebrows with a silent question, and though it was most likely a question directed to her own self, the man understood the meaning of it. "I know what you're thinking," he sighed. "'Why would they throw him out?' It wasn't because I wasn't a good stablehand, because I'm very good with horses, as anyone in Rohan can tell you. They thought I wasn't good enough because some richly dressed man from Gondor came saying he wanted a job." The man's face turned bright red. "They decided that a man richly dressed was better than a man who could actually take care of a horse."

He looked down at the floor and spoke more quietly. "A friend told me that you needed some people at your stable, and so I thought I'd try my luck here, for everyone else was full. Please understand, though, I don't want to have an 'official' job here. I just want to help out with the horses a bit. I don't want to be considered one of your 'staff.' And if children would annoy your guests, I'm sure you can't let me work here, because my three-year-old daughter will be visiting often." If possible, his head sunk even lower. "If you can't possibly accept me, could you please direct me somewhere else?"