[Child of the 7th Age]

For the tenth time that afternoon, Hawthorne had excused herself from the other partygoers and gone out onto the steps of the Dragon. She'd peered off down the road to the east, looking for any sign of a pony and cart. For one moment, her hopes had risen as she caught whiff of a cloud of dust and heard the distant rumble of wheels, but that had turned out to be a Hobbiton farmer who was bringing his wife and children to the handfasting. In any case, the cart was far too small. She was looking for a mid-sized wagon that had come an extraordinary distance to be here today.

Hawthorne had retreated back inside the Inn, and threw herself into other chores, trying to keep her mind off the expected delivery. For, as all hobbit lasses know well, a watched pot never boils, and he who looks for a delivery too impatiently is apt to get no delivery at all. She assured herself that the cart would soon be here. Uncle Merry had promised to send some extraordinary gifts for the happy young couple: things that were rarely seen in this portion of the world. And if he had made such a promise, he surely meant to keep it.

She busied herself with cleaning and polishing the glasses that had been returned to the kitchen for refills, when she suddenly saw a group of children scamper inside, giggling wildly. The youngest of the group, Lilac Goodbody, ran up to Hawthorne and began pushing her toward the door: "Come with us. It's the funniest thing. There's someone else here for the party. Only he's pretending to be a mule dragging a cart! He's ever so stout and funny looking. Not only that, but he's "in-between"---taller than a kuduk and shorter than the Big Folk, and his beard is almost as long as he is."

Hawthorne stared quizically down at Lilac as the meaning of the girl's words registered inside her head. This could only be one person: the dwarf Fazi, a resident of Dale who'd known Uncle Merry for some time. To the outside world, Fazi looked to be a very harmless individual. Indeed, he gave the impression of being a little inept and liable to fall asleep in odd moments. But, in reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Fazi was a dwarven trader who could beguile anyone with his cheerful ways and still come away with a better part of a bargain. He had excellent relations with all the dwarven craftsmen in Dale, those who worked in metals and springs and such, and could find the most amazing things. On top of that, he was a virtual repertory of dwarven lore and stories and someone who truly appreciated a party. She sprinted out the door to the courtyard, where Fazi had finally managed to drag both the cart and the donkey up to the stables, and was now asking to see Hawthorne.

She ran forward and gave the dwarf a curtsey, greeting him warmly. Then she immediately sprang to the business at hand. "You've brought it? The presents for the handfasted couple that Master Merry wanted sent?"

"Oh, yes," assured Fazi, wiping his brow with a handkerchief that was enormously large. "Here is the packet from Buckland: presents for the young couple and letters as well. One for you, and one for the Mayor."

Hawthorne reached out and took the packet. "And the other thing as well?"

The dwarf nodded at Hawthorne, "Come take a look yourself." He retreated to the back of the wagon and pulled back the edge of a canvas that had been tied down to hide what was underneath. Hawthorne's eyes widened as she got a look at the present. How extraordinary and how generous of Merry! She doubted there was anyone in the Shire with something quite like this. Even Mr. Bilbo had not seen the likes of it. Hawthorne's fingers impulsively strayed down to the large brass key, but Fazi reached out and pulled back her hand.

"No, you don't. That's all we need! To have this thing blaring out in the middle of the ceremony! Uncle Merry says we're not to unload or wind it, until after the handfasting is finished. It has to be done properly. I'll show you how. But for now, leave it alone. No one will bother it if we simply leave the cart under the eaves of the stable."

Hawthorne nodded contritely, but still tarried at the back of the cart, standing on tiptoe, and looking more closely at what was contained in the the bottom of the wagon bed. "What's this?" she queried. This time Fazi did not stop when she bent over and picked up two objects."

"Oh, that's a surprize. It's all explained in Master Merry's letter to the mayor. Toys for the children, all the way from Dale. And quite amazing toys, if I may add. Master Sam is to pass them out this evening. He'll know best which children would enjoy which toy."

"And these will remain in the cart, too?"

"Yes, till later."

"That may not be so easy." Hawthorne nodded at the row of children, all wide eyed, who had crept closer to the cart and were determindly trying to get a peak inside.

"That's easily dealt with.....," mused the dwarf. "Anyone who touches the toys ahead of time, won't be given a single one." He looked sternly round cluster of small faces. At the mention of this dismal consequence, several lads and lasses dropped back, and Hawthorne was free to resume her conversation again.

"You will join us for the handfasting and party then? There's good kegs of ale and tables loaded with food. You must stay a day or two." With that invitation, she led Fazi inside. There were a number of eyes fastened on them as they stepped inside the door. Dwarves had been relatively rare in the Shire in recent years at least when compared with the number of Elven and Mannish visitors, and the children were especially curious.