The Golden Perch Inn

[Lilly]

‘I can make whistles, Dorlind.’ Taffy paused for a moment and looked at the younger boy. ‘In fact, if you fetch me a nice thick twig, say one about as thick as your daddy’s little finger…and about as long, too, then I’ll make one for you.’ He looked over to where Seren and Daisy were chasing a grasshopper. ‘Best you get one for your sister, too. If she’s anything like mine, then she’ll whine until she gets one.’

Taffy went back to his whittling. He stopped again and showed Dorlind the roughed out form. ‘It’s not a bird. Though it does have wings.’ He leaned close to Dorlind as if sharing a secret. ‘It’s going to be a dragon.’

[piosenniel]

‘I’ll meet you out front,’ Rhys called to his sister as she stood in front of the little polished mirror that hung on the wall. They’d excused themselves earlier from Hithadan’s company, saying that they had some business to attend to.

Tanni smiled at her brother as she fastened back her thick red hair with a beaded clasp her mother had made for her. ‘Go on, now. Let me just change my blouse and I’ll be ready to go.’ She shooed him out the door, promising she would hurry.

Rhys nodded to the two young fellows sitting on the porch and smiled at the picture of the little girls engaged in their giggling pursuit of the grasshopper. The ostler was nowhere to be found when he got to the stable, which was of no concern really. Nia and Olwen nickered softly as Rhys whistled. ‘Come on girls!’ he called to them, opening the doors to the stalls. The familiar routine of harnessing them to the cart took little time, and soon he had pulled up in front of the inn.

‘See, I told you I’d be ready!’ laughed Tanni, running down the stairs. She climbed into the cart and sat down. The warm afternoon breeze tousled her hair; she pushed back a stray strand, hooking it behind her ear. ‘I hope it’s as Rowan said…that Granny Greenhill won’t mind if we just drop in on her.’ Tanni untied her cloak and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it fall over the back of the cart seat. ‘How long do you think we’ll be gone on our errand?’ she asked in an offhand manner, flicking her eyes toward him and then away.

He raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth curving up in an impious grin. ‘Well, I’m thinking we’ll be back in time for the evening meal. Why do you ask?’

‘Oh, no reason, really. Just making conversation.’

‘Mmhmm…’ he murmured, flicking the reins lightly against the mares’ haunches. And noting, as he did so, she had begun to sing softly to herself.

[Noinkling]

‘Tis a nice piece of work there, laddie!’ Skirvir threw back his hood and crouched down to watch the boy as he whittled. ‘Fiercesome creature though. Be glad you never had the chance to see one.’ He tipped his head this way and that regarding the form that was slowly taking shape. He was a craftsman, himself, though his preferred medium was quartz. He too liked to make small carvings of animals, many of which he gave to his younger cousins.

‘If you’re around this evening, you might get me and my cousins there,’ he said pointing to Bívor and Bávor, ‘to tell you the story of the great winged beast that stole our clan’s treasure and drove us from our home.’ He stood up with a mild groan and the cracking of tired knees; it had been a long journey since sunrise. ‘’Twas red, that beastie was. And he breathed fire out when he was angered.’ A smile creased the nearly hidden lips beneath the wild reddish beard. ‘Hobbit, it was, as tricked that odious and tricksome wyrm!’ His eyes crinkled and glistened from beneath his bushy brow. ‘’Pon my word, it was so.’

‘Skirvir! We’re dying of thirst here!’ cried Bávor, his hand on the handle of the door.

‘And hunger!’ growled Bívor, motioning for Skirvir to come along.

Skirvir nodded to the boy and to his younger companion. ‘We’ll see you later, eh? Looking forward to seeing how that piece turns out.’ He turned to follow after his cousins. ‘Oh, and remind me, if you will.’ He said turning back toward the Hobbit lad. ‘I’ve some pieces of my own, little animals like that. Perhaps you’d like to see them.’

^*^*^

The trio of Dwarves stood in the entry way of The Perch and looked about in a favorable manner. Savory smells issued from the kitchen, and large mugs of foaming ale passed nearly beneath their very attentive noses.

Bávor closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. ‘Southern Star,’ he murmured appreciatively. ‘Ahhh, and Longbottom Leaf, as I live and breathe.’

‘There’s a table. Over there by the fire.’ Bívor led his companions toward it and motioned one of the servers over. ‘Couple of pitchers of ale, yes?’ he said to his companions as the server approached. ‘And a large platter of ham and cheeses and bread to wrap it in.’

‘And mustard,’ chimed in Skirvir. ‘And maybe we ought to make it three pitchers of ale. Been a long dusty road today.’

The other two considered the suggestion for less than a second and nodded in agreement.

Bávor leaned toward the server and spoke in a low voice. ‘If you could find us a bit of Longbottom Leaf, I for one would be eternally in your debt.’

[Kath]

“Enough? Why that’s far more than enough! You could buy yourselves dinner and still have left over! I’ll get the beers. Where’re you two from?”

Cir had left her brother to do the ordering, not wanting to look like she didn't know what she was doing, which she certainly would have as beer was as new a concept to her as it was to him. She watched in fascination as the liquid appeared, a white foam on the top of it, and took over the conversation. She'd had a little more practice with Westron than Cir had, or at least had concentrated on learning it better.

"We're from Rivendell. My name is Cir and this is my brother, also called Cir."

She caught the look of confusion on the hobbit's face and laughed.

"Yes our names are the same. Don't worry, most people get used to it in time."

The Innkeeper didn't look convinced but handed them the beers nonetheless. Warily Cir took a sip, rememebering the taste of miruvor as well as her brother, and hoping she wasn't about to experience a similar sensation of disgust. She was pleasantly surprised as the drink slid down her throat. It was bitter but didn't burn, and had an aftertaste that lingered in the mouth. Noticing that Cir had been watching her to gauge her reaction she smiled at him and nodded for him to try it.

"Thank you." She said turning back to the hobbit. "You said that we have enough money to buy food as well, what do you serve? Oh! And what is your name? It is hard to talk with someone when you haven't been introduced."