The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - The Green Dragon Inn #11

Tevildo · 03-17-2005, 06:32 AM

Camille had finished the last of the chores that Cook had assigned and had even gotten permission to join her family for supper. “Just tonight, mind you,” Cook hastily explained. “I can’t have you in the kitchen chopping and scrubbing while your family has its first meal in the Inn, especially not when Master Falco was so kind to set up everything.”

Camille had nodded in agreement and stolen a quick look at the five cakes that had been set on a sideboard in the kitchen. These were small cakes but not too small: each one just the right size for a hearty hobbit appetite. “Out with you now, Miz Camille,” Cook had chastised her lightly. “No use fixing on the end of the meal until you get through the beginning.”

Then Camille had helped to carry out a tureen of stew and a platter heaped high with biscuits to the table where her family was sitting. On one end of the table Falco presided. Rory was seated on his left and Marigold on his right. She and her mother were next to each other on the opposite end facing their benefactor.

Camille beamed brightly at her mother. “Ma, you look pretty tonight.” For her mother indeed looked far happier and more radiant than Camille had seen her for some time. She was wearing her nicest dress, a green skirt with a vest of brown and a small lace collar; she had combed back her thick red curls, and had even fastened a ribbon with a locket about her neck. Camille wondered if Master Falco had noticed how lovely her mother looked. She wondered if there wasn’t some way to get her mother to sit beside Mister Falco instead of Rory, but she didn’t know how to do that politely.

When her mother and Master Falco began discussing the arrangement with the laundry, Camille got out of her seat to give her brother a hug. She noticed he had found one of the little placards on which appeared the names of the foods that were to be served at the Inn for that particular day. Rory could not read the words but was carefully tracing the letters with the tip of his finger. He did not stop even when the stew and biscuits were set on the table in front of him. The young boy asked Camille to read the words for him, but she just threw up her hands and laughed, “I’m no good with words, Rory. Perhaps Master Falco can help you, or even Marigold.”

03-17-2005, 06:32 AM	#1588
Tevildo Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Nov 2004 Location: Curled up on Melko's lap Posts: 425	Camille: Camille had finished the last of the chores that Cook had assigned and had even gotten permission to join her family for supper. “Just tonight, mind you,” Cook hastily explained. “I can’t have you in the kitchen chopping and scrubbing while your family has its first meal in the Inn, especially not when Master Falco was so kind to set up everything.” Camille had nodded in agreement and stolen a quick look at the five cakes that had been set on a sideboard in the kitchen. These were small cakes but not too small: each one just the right size for a hearty hobbit appetite. “Out with you now, Miz Camille,” Cook had chastised her lightly. “No use fixing on the end of the meal until you get through the beginning.” Then Camille had helped to carry out a tureen of stew and a platter heaped high with biscuits to the table where her family was sitting. On one end of the table Falco presided. Rory was seated on his left and Marigold on his right. She and her mother were next to each other on the opposite end facing their benefactor. Camille beamed brightly at her mother. “Ma, you look pretty tonight.” For her mother indeed looked far happier and more radiant than Camille had seen her for some time. She was wearing her nicest dress, a green skirt with a vest of brown and a small lace collar; she had combed back her thick red curls, and had even fastened a ribbon with a locket about her neck. Camille wondered if Master Falco had noticed how lovely her mother looked. She wondered if there wasn’t some way to get her mother to sit beside Mister Falco instead of Rory, but she didn’t know how to do that politely. When her mother and Master Falco began discussing the arrangement with the laundry, Camille got out of her seat to give her brother a hug. She noticed he had found one of the little placards on which appeared the names of the foods that were to be served at the Inn for that particular day. Rory could not read the words but was carefully tracing the letters with the tip of his finger. He did not stop even when the stew and biscuits were set on the table in front of him. The young boy asked Camille to read the words for him, but she just threw up her hands and laughed, “I’m no good with words, Rory. Perhaps Master Falco can help you, or even Marigold.”