[Arry]

They were waiting for Buttercup to get the fresh linens from the laundry and make up their beds, when the door banged open and a man with fiery hair blew in with a gust of evening breeze at his back and the fragrance of the evening blooming phlox rushing in around him. Alwin looked with interest at the new fellow, wondering if he were another adventurer come to The Green Dragon.

Little Jack slipped his hand from Alwin’s and climbed up on one of the stools near the bar to catch a better look at the newcomer. ‘Look, Grandfather,’ he said, grinning at Alwin. ‘He’s as hungry as I was from our long walk to get here!’ The two watched as Buttercup, having asked them to wait just a bit while she helped Ruby bring the man’s meal out, toted platter after platter of food to the new fellow’s table, along with Ruby who brought him a pitcher of ale.

Just as he was finishing his meal and pushed his plate away looking tired, Jack scurried over to his table and pulled on the sleeve of the man’s tunic. ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but my grandfather’s sent over a little pouch of pipeweed from the Southfarthing.’ Jack smiled and held out the little leather pouch.

Alwin had by this time come over to the table. ‘It’s true – finest weed in the Shire.’ He chuckled as he thought back on the farmer who had given it to him. ‘We passed through the Southfarthing on our way up to the Green Dragon. Spent the night with one of the farmers in Longbottom. He was very proud of his crop this year and pressed a goodly quantity on us. ‘You just show those Hobbits up north how good the Southern leaf can be!’

Jack put the pouch onto the tabletop, then sat in one of the empty chairs. ‘My name’s Jack,’ he said. ‘What’s yours?’

Alwin shook his head and smiled indulgently at the boy. ‘Eleven years old and not one to beat about the bush.’ He bowed slightly to the man, then nodded at Jack. ‘We’re just traveling through the Shire. My name is Alwin. We’re bound for Bree next. How about yourself?’