[Lalwendë]

The noble looking man who she had been stealing glances at left his position and made his way over towards her table and to her great surprise, he introduced himself. Jinniver took in the beautifully tailored clothes and the dark eyes of the man and felt a lump rise in her throat. She was glad of the courage the ale gave her as her nerves started to tense; she was not accustomed to noble people introducing themselves to her. She had seen many unusual folk passing up and down the Greenway and into Bree, but there were few who gave the impression of being important, and these imposing people never deigned to talk with a mere nurserywoman beyond buying flowers from her. Yet this man had smiled at her in a friendly way and was courteous, and her false courage and respect for courtesy urged her to return his warm greeting.

His formal greetings were so refined that she would have blushed when he took her hand were her face not already reddened by the merriment and the ale. Bolstered by the beer, she immediately pressed him with a veiled question as to how he knew the innkeeper but he merely indicated that he was known at the inn. She rephrased her question, and was more direct this time. Instead of any mention of the innkeeper, he instead began to press her for knowledge of another young woman.

He was looking for a young ranger woman he described as having red hair. That was clearly not Aman, but why all the knowing glances between the two of them? How many young women were there who had an interest in him? What was his game? She perceived that there was more to his questions than met the eye. The man had an earnest look about him when he described the woman. Jinniver had seen rangers, it was unavoidable if you lived by The Greenway; sometimes they would stop by to obtain supplies from their farmhouse, but she could not recall having seen a red-haired woman. She laughed a little as she thought about the situation. A nobleman, sitting in a hobbit tavern, asking a nurserywoman about rangers?

Her lack of an answer seemed to disappoint the man, and he looked towards Derufin, who was stealthily watching him from the corner of his eye. Jinniver felt a sudden rush of disappointment that she could offer no help to the man. She did not want him to get up so soon; she was finding this situation all very intriguing, and, she had to admit, he was interesting in himself.

“Well I am sorry to hear that, but I am sure that she will turn up. I wonder if I might thank you for your pains by buying you a pint of ale, or perhaps some wine? I have been away for a while and would very much like to know about the people staying at the Dragon.”

"Mr Snaveling," she looked into his dark eyes and smiled. These eyes had held a little suspicion at first, but there was a lighter sparkle to them now that he had spoken. The name seemed to belong to someone other than a lordly man. "An ale would be my choice, if you are so kind as to offer."

Snaveling made to get up and go to the bar, but Jinniver stayed him with her hand. She started a little as she realised she should probably not have made such a gesture. "I am sorry. But do not trouble yourself. I am sure that Aman or one of the hobbit lasses will be by in a moment." She felt sure that Aman would not be coming by, but she could see a hobbit making her way over, as the lads were noisily shouting for more ale.

"What would you like to know?” she asked, thinking about the curious glances that had been thrown between Snaveling, Derufin and Aman. "I am but staying here a while, until a task is through, but these fine folk have made me welcome." She motioned towards the company at the table. "At the end there, that is Master Andwise, and these are his lads, and there is Derufin."

Snaveling looked across, barely moving his head as she motioned towards the man who had been watching him. He waited until she continued talking, not wanting to make it obvious that he was enquiring about people who for all he knew may be her friends. She did not continue straight away, but paused and gazed expectantly at him, as though waiting for him to ask further. He did not ask, so she carried on cautiously.

"He is the stable master. And a good man too. He is to be married soon and I am working for him, preparing a garden", She halted, aware that she had maybe said too much. She had been about to say that Derufin seemed to be held in regard by those at the inn, including Aman, but now she guessed that Snaveling would be able to put the pieces of the puzzle together for himself. She thought about changing the subject, not feeling comfortable with being asked questions herself, and then a memory struck her.

"Mr Snaveling," Jinniver blurted out, "I have remembered something." His eyebrows raised and he turned his attention from Derufin back to her. "There is, or was, one red-haired ranger. At least, my niece saw one some weeks ago, amongst the trees at the edge of our land. Whether it was a man or a woman, I don’t know”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then she asked, out of concern, for he looked troubled, “Who is this woman to you?”