[Nurumaiel]

In the shadows of the early evening cast by the walls of the Green Dragon inn, Hamson crouched, watching nervously as Melilot, her face still bright red, ran here and there, apparently looking for him. He had received quite a shock when he went outside for an evening stroll to find she was out there looking for him, unaware that he had gone to his room rather than outside. He knew she wouldn't be able to do anything to him, for he was much stronger and swifter than she, but she might think of something clever to say and win the battle just flung into full force while he, Hamson Cotton, should have been the victor.

He watched her running back and forth in the dim light of the evening. Her black hair bounced up and down on her back and side to side as she searched in vain for him. She was a very beautiful young lass. No wonder so many hobbit lads were falling at her feet. If only she could do something to deserve all the attention she gained. If only her personality could be as striking as her looks. Then maybe some lad with a lot of sense in his head would come along and make her a good husband.

"If I know Melilot Sackville-Baggins, she'll marry the richest and the most air-headed hobbit she can find," Hamson said softly, shaking his head a little. "Then, no doubt, she'll murder him when she finds he's a fool. Melilot's the type of girl who could murder someone with ease." He suddenly felt a little fear as he saw her blue eyes flashing as they looked for him. She certainly was capable of it. Maybe he shouldn't try to fight with her.

"What she needs is someone to straighten her out," he continued, making sure his voice was extremely low. "Her parents are obviously spoiling her. Just because she's a Sackville-Baggins doesn't mean she has to be rotten for life. I think underneath all that Sackville-Baggins is real true Baggins. The Baggins have always been good, and if Melilot could just find someone to get her past her temporary madness, she could be a wonderful young lassie." The more Hamson thought about it, the better the idea seemed. The only problem now was to find someone to do that. He, of course, wasn't going to be the one to straighten her out. She might kill him.

"She needs someone who will tell her what her flaws are straight in her face, but not in a mean way. Then this person will help her get over them, and she'll be a better hobbit all around." Hamson nodded in satisfaction at this thought and smiled. However, his smile soon faded as he realized, by seeing Melilot make a wild rush at him, that he had forgotten to speak quietly. Unsure if she was angry at his words or still sore over her peppered tea and not really caring, he sprang up and made a run for the inn door. Melilot would be hindered by her skirts, or so he thought. Driven by mad fury, she grabbed her skirts and pulled them up to just above her knees and was soon running freely at him.

Gasping the word "help" every other step, Hamson ducked into an unusually dark shadow and disappeared from view. Melilot stood there uncertainly, wondering where to go next. Hamson slipped silently through the shadows along the ground and came to the stables. Opening the door quietly, he crept in and proceeded to close it behind him... only he closed it a little too loudly, and he knew immediately without needing to see that Melilot was after him again. Diving into an empty stall, he buried himself under some hay and hoped she wouldn't find him.

Poor Hamson! How the minutes that seemed like hours dragged on during the time that Melilot peered into every stall carefully. At last she gave it up, and her soft footsteps sounded down the aisle and out of the stable door. Hamson breathed a sigh of relief and scrambled out of the hay the covered him, then went to the stall of the nearest pony. The stable was quite comforting, and he had his own pony at home: a strawberry roan mare. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she was a very reliable pony. He would stay in the stables until bedtime.