Pippin Pondlily was taking careful inventory of the books as they were unpacked into shelves on her father’s library in her family’s new burrow in Hobbiton. She etched tally marks with her quill next to the names as they were identified and shelved. Towards evening, Balbo, her father, walked into the new library with his hands in his pants’ pockets. He was a very chubby hobbit of about fifty plus years of age. He had an incredible pile of thick curly brown hair and long ears that dipped nearly to his shoulders. His eyes were blue and merry and there were laughter lines all about his eyes and mouth. Renowned for his sense of humor, Balbo had been loved dearly in Binbale Wood and undoubtedly would be so here in Hobbitton.
Now he pulled absently at his chin and glanced out the window. The sun was dropping down behind the distant trees and soon it would be supper time.
“You should get out this evening to a pub or something and meet some of the other young hobbits, eh? You go get dressed up for dinner, we’re going to the Goldworthies for there’s not a thing to eat here, well, nothing proper anyways and afterward you can have the evening to yourself. How’s that Pip?”
Pippin smiled gratefully, “That would be wonderful!” she said and kissed him on the cheek on her way out of the library, pushing the book and quill into his arms.
Back in her room where most of her things were unpacked she was contemplating what to wear. She looked in the mirror. Her long wavy blond hair was braided down her back with flyaway bangs hanging down to the left side of her face, covering one full, arched brow. She raised her other brow and winked her long lashes, catching flashes of an intense blue that was the color of her eyes. She smiled enchantingly.
“Hullo Pip,” her mother announced walking in with another trunk of Pippin’s things. “Just a few dresses in this one.” She set it down and looked at Pippin. “Getting out tonight my dear?” Pippin nodded in the mirror. “Well have fun dear and be ready to go over to the Goldworthies in a couple minutes, your aunt is so excited about us living so close again.” Mrs. Pondlily shut the door quietly and Pippin could hear her giving instructions to one of the neighbors who helped them move in about the chairs for the dining room.
Pippin opened the trunk her mother had brought in. She flitted her fingers through the folds of dresses and decided on a nice, dark blue colored one with brown and cream embroidery. This she slipped on over her white chemise and laced up the sides to fit her figure. Taking a look in her glass she undid her hair, brushed it thoroughly, and braided it down her back again. About her neck she clasped a leather chord from which hung a disc with the etching of a wood: Binbale Wood.
After dinner that night she walked down the narrow road to the town’s main circle, looking for a pub. There was one that caught her eye immediately with light pouring out over the flower pots in each window and lots of music and laughter coming from within. She looked up at the sign swinging about the door: The Green Dragon. It seemed just as fine a place as any, maybe better, and she let herself in.
Inside there was a great crowd of people. Though there were mostly hobbits, Pippin was amazed at the number of men, dwarves and elves there were also. She wandered up to the long wooden counter that served as bar and check-in and got the attention of one of the inn maids.
“Good evening!” the woman replied cheerfully. “What will it be then for you Miss? Dinner? Room? Both perhaps?” Her eyes were very bright and her smile was pretty. Pippin felt quite at ease.
“Actually, I’ve just moved in about three days ago, just moved to Hobbiton that is--” she pressed up against the bar as a hefty dwarf pushed past her to a chair at the counter. “And I thought I would come down to an inn or pub and have a hot tea and maybe meet some locals.” She paused and looked around at the strange diversity of patrons. “Well, or non-locals, apparently…”
The hobbit woman laughed pearls. “What’s your name, then, lass?”
“Pippin Pondlily,” she said, extending her hand over the counter.
“Pippin?” the woman said, shaking her hand. “Usually a boy’s name wouldn’t it be though?”
Pippin nodded. “Aye, but my father was set on naming his first child regardless of gender.” She winked and the woman chuckled again.
“It’s lovely. I’m Ruby Brown. I’ll be getting your tea then. Feel free to sit where you please. I’ll find you.”
“Many thanks.” Pippin looked around the crowded room before deciding on an empty chair pulled up to a small round table against the wall. From here she decided she could best see the room and the interesting people within as she waited for Ruby Brown to bring her tea…
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