[Amanaduial the archer]

The Innkeeper's eyebrows shot up as she stared down at Hawthorne, her grip tightening on the reins of Rochfalmar and the black horse until her knuckles were completely white and her nails dug into the palms of her hands. But she barely noticed this, and neither did she notice Fredgar appear beside her.

The Shirrif cleared his throat and announced authoratatively, "I am afraid I have to arrest you for causing the fire at the Green Dragon Inn-!"

"You did what?!"

Aman's yell cut over the end of Fredgar's sentence and, even in the crowded and noisy yard, it caused several heads to turn to see the Innkeeper now a somewhat menacing figure, holding two huge horses (or so they seemed to the hobbits) who were shifting their hooves nervously, her hair wild, her face white and her jaw clenched with anger. Hawthorne cowered. Fredgar cowered. The black horse snickered then even it cowered as Aman glanced at it. In front of her, Hawthorne didn't speak, and at the back of her mind a small part of Aman was warning of just how tired the little hobbit lass looked, but to the Innkeeper's tired and angry brain it seemed like an acceptance of guilt. She could see, ever-present in her vision, the side of the Common Room where the kitchen would be, now smouldering ash and smoke, and here in front of her was the culprit who had caused it, one of her own servers if-you please. She was tired. She was frustrated. She was angry. It wasn't often that the Innkeeper got very angry, and in her time at the Inn it had only really happened once...

...and as Ruby, Buttercup and some of the more regular customers were now uneasily remembering, that episode had ended with the Innkeeper drawing a sword from beneath the bar and flinging it so hard that it embedded itself in the opposite wall only a few inches above the brawlers' heads.

"Let me get this straight," the Innkeeper said, her voice now controlled, but barely - she spoke softly but through gritted teeth. "You have the cheek to say you were angry because the two servers who have worked and lived at this Inn for longer than I have, were apparently being nasty to you," she glanced at Ruby and Buttercup here, who were now standing and watching, mouths open, "and so, because of this and in return for my giving you a job, you decided to set fire to my flamin' Inn! Is that it?!" She was almost yelling by the end of this.

Hawthorne looked horrified. "Oh, Miz Aman, no - no that isn't it at all! I wasn't trying to set fire to the Inn-!"

"You just said you did!" The ferocious Innkeeper looked to be in danger of imploding so hard was she trying not to yell. As a horse-trainer, she knew she couldn't do that when the beasts were already so fidgetty, but she wasn't quite so aware that the tension flowing from her was enough already.

Fredgar didn't seem comfortable with this angry human's anger either, but the Sherrif of Hobbiton knew the Green Dragon quite well, and he was flushed with anger as well, fumbling for a pair of handcuffs he kept but had never actually had occasion to use. "Miss, I am afraid I am going to have to arrest you on a charge of-"

"Not yet you aren't!" Aman interrupted once more, her voice hard and harsh. Her head snapped up and she caught Buttercup's eye. "Buttercup, please could you send a rider or a runner to Mr Meriadoc."

The glint of hope in Hawthorne's eyes vanished abruptly and a look of utter horror replaced it. Looking down once more at Hawthorne, Aman crossed her arms and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them and spoke again, she seemed slightly calmer, but her voice was dangerously soft, which one might think would be hard to hear above all the racket in the yard, but somehow it cut through like steel through silk. "Alright then, Miss Brandybuck. Please explain why and how exactly you deigned to set fire to my Inn."