[Child of the 7th Age]

Do you know anything about food?

Hawthorne gazed warily over at the Innkeeper, uncertain how she should respond. Like most young hobbits, Hawthorne knew a great deal about the consumption of food. She never missed a second breakfast and would normally load down her supper plate with all manner of interesting things to eat. But surely this was not what Aman had in mind.

How could she possibly give a truthful answer? Her mother had neglected to teach her anything about what goes on inside a kitchen. Most young hobbits, even the lads in the family, have assigned chores that require them to help out at suppertime with a whole range of tasks from peeling vegetables and skinning conies to learning how to build a blazing fire in the grate and turning a batch of mushrooms into a tasty pie. Hawthorne did not know how to do any of those useful things. Her mother employed several Harfoot servants to cook the meals and serve the food and keep their apartments at Brandy Hall neat and tidy. Hornbeam considered her daughters to be above such mundane tasks and made it a point to tell that fact to everyone she met.

Yet if Hawthorne confided the truth to the Innkeeper, she would never secure employment and, lacking funds, might even be sent home in disgrace. Nor did Hawthorne care to fabricate a past she'd never had. She had a basic sense of right and wrong and did not like to go against that.

There was a long pause in the conversation as the lass desperately fidgeted with her fingers and searched for something to say that would gain her an offer of employment while still containing just a smidgeon of truth. Hawthorne promised herself that, once she actually secured a position, she would figure out how to do the cooking she needed. All the young servants at Brandy Hall helped with dinner preparations. Surely a bright Fallohide lass, especially one with the last name of Brandybuck, could do as good a job as any fourteen-year old Harfoot scullery maid.

Hawthorne's eyes brightened as a tiny seed of an idea blossomed inside her mind. She turned to Aman, curtseyed, and smiled, "Oh, yes, Mistress Aman. I do love a variety of foods, but my specialty is fish." At this point, the lass launched into a long tirade on the merits of various fish, where and how to catch them, and delicious dishes that could be made from each variety.

Like many youngsters growing up in Buckland, Hawthorne had spent more time at the local swimming hole than anywhere else. On many a summer afternoon, she could be found splashing about in the water or rowing out in her little boat to try and catch some fish. The river Brandywine was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Yet with all this fishing and having fun, she had never learned to clean a fish in her entire life and knew nothing about how to prepare the dishes she'd described. Hawthorne merely presented her string of fish to the servants, and they took care of the rest. Yet, however misleading an impression she had created for the Innkeeper, technically, Hawthorne had not told any lies.

"I am sure I can help you, Mistress Aman," Hawthorne added, sounding confident and knowledgeable, "There's a lovely pond out in back of the Inn and the Water itself runs due east. I could use my nets and lines to catch an interesting mess of fish and prepare them for all the guests at the Dragon to enjoy." She beamed over at the Innkeeper, waiting for her response.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:49 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]