[Firefoot]

Nick wandered about feeling lost. Willy had abandoned him, and he did not know anyone. The Big Folk everywhere scared him. In addition to it all, he was at an Inn! Ma said he and Willy weren't old enough, and he was going to get in trouble. Willy said it didn't matter as long as Ma didn't find out. Nick wasn't so sure, but he admired Willy and his daring beyond all else. Except Willy had run off. Nick was miserable. He had thought to find Shimshin, but the monkey was no where to be seen. He saw the nice man who had the monkey, but Nick was still shy of him - he was one of the Big Folk, and so Nick had studiously avoided him.

Suddenly Nick's eyes lit on the scurrying brown figure, running from a pair of hobbits. It was Shimshin! Nick started to run after them, but stopped abruptly when Shimshin made a flying leap onto a second story window of the inn and disappeared inside. Nick wanted the company of his new friend, but then he would have to go inside again - and to the second floor, no less! Nick didn't like heights either. But... there weren't so many strangers inside. All the people out here were making Nick nervous. Slowly, Nick made his way over to the Inn door, and nearly headed right back outside again. Here, all the hobbits were cheering! Nick realized it was because the mayor was here. Nick wasn't really sure what the mayor did, but he did know he made long speeches and helped run the Shire. Nick didn't want to be noticed by anyone so important, so spotting the stairs he slipped over along the wall.

He ascended the stairs slowly because he was not accustomed to them. His own hobbit-hole had no stairs, and there were very few hobbit buildings that did. At the top, Nick was dismayed to find a long hallway of doors. Shimshin could be behind any one of them! Experimentally, he tried the first door on his left. The knob turned easily and Nick peeked inside. The room was neat, but clearly inhabited - there were lumpy packages and a pack for travelling lined along one wall. This was a bad thing to do, Nick knew. These were people's rooms! But Shimshin was in one of these rooms. Quietly, Nick shut the door and tried the next one. It was locked. The next room Nick tried was open, but not nearly so clean. Luggage was piled in disarray in the corner, a dress hung over a chair, and the bed was unmade. Shimshin was not here either. At the next door, Nick heard voices and so he skipped it. He continued down the hallway in a similar manner, but found Shimshin in none of the rooms. Shimshin must be in one of the locked rooms!

Nick stuck out his lower lip and tears began to form in his eyes. Willy had left him, Shimshin had left him, he couldn't talk to anyone because they were strangers, and he couldn't go home because then he would have to tell Ma where he'd been. Nick went back to the stairs, and realized he didn't think he could get back down them! He couldn't see the bottom because of a turn in the staircase, and the railing was too high to be used comfortably. Feeling uncared-for and lonely, Nick plunked down at the top of the stairs and began to cry.

~*~*~

Willy

A quick look around the grounds showed Willy that Nick was no where to be found. He knew he would be in trouble when he got home: he was at the Inn, his coat was ripped, and Nick was lost. Willy decided he had better enjoy himself while he could, and promptly forgot about his problems.

In his fascination for the monkey and pursuit of the cat, he had forgotten about the many Elves that had originally captured his interest. At first, it seemed to him that they were little different from the ordinary Big Folk, but then he found that it was not so. They were more... graceful, or something. Other than that, Willy's close observation disappointed him. The Elves, called the Fair Folk and almost revered in many stories, did not seem so different than ordinary folk. They played their instruments with some hobbits and Big Folk, and talked like normal people (though perhaps the women's voices were slightly more musical). At any rate, the Elves soon lost his interest and Willy noticed that he was thirsty.

Spotting three old Gammers giving out punch under some shade, Willy headed over to them purposefully. By the reactions of their customers, it must be good. Unfortunately for Willy, his successful morning had dulled his caution.

"May I have some punch, Ma'am?" he asked politely. One of them laughed. "I don't think so, young mister," said one of them, shaking her spoon at him. "This is only for the ladies at the party. You can have some water, here, instead, if you like." Why only the ladies? he wondered. What's so special about it? He resolved to come back later and try to sneak a taste - these old ladies did not look so spry and he supposed he could outrun them, at any rate. Meanwhile, Willy nodded and she served him up a cup of ice water.

"You going to dazzle the young lasses tonight dancing?" teased the gammer who had given him his water. To the others, she said, "They get younger all the time." The first laughed softly again.

"Well, I'm not so sure about that," evaded Willy. This conversation was downright uncomfortable! Then the third, who had been studying him carefully thusfar, spoke up, "I know you. You're Poppy Burrows's second lad, aren't you? You supposed to be here, or has she changed her mind about letting you come to inns on your own?" Willy froze.

"Um, Yes'm, my name's Willy," he said. Then he began to improvise. "Ma, uh, sent me here to help with the handfasting."

"This doesn't look like helping to me," she answered. Willy suddenly was able to put a name to her: Granny Heathertoes. "I suppose you aren't supposed to be here after all, are you? I tell you what. I'll keep your secret, if you go over there to the kitchen and find out what you can to help right now. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Willy. How could he be so foolish? He set down his empty cup and hurried away to the Inn dejectedly. He saw, however, that the hobbit lady in charge (Cook, he thought) was quite busy greeting the Mayor Samwise himself! Willy sighed and leaned against the Inn, waiting for the right time to find out how he should be helping.