[Undómë]

Rowan hurriedly put down the tray of mugs she’d brought from the kitchen, sighing as she did so. She’d hoped to have a leisurely sit-down as she wiped the last of the rinse water from the just washed cups; some time to look about the common room and see who was about.

Ah well...best laid plans... she heard her old Gran’s voice whisper at the edge of her thoughts.

She wiped her damp hands on the dishtowel she’d slung over her shoulder and laid the cloth wadded on the stack. Best see to the new guest, she thought, get her settled in...then, perhaps there would be time for a more leisurely task.

Perched precariously on the edge of the table just outside the kitchen’s door, the mugs gave a dull clink-clunk as the Hobbit’s foot knocked against the near table-leg. No, you don’t! she muttered. Pausing midstep, Rowan reached out her right hand toward the teetering pile. She slid the tray deftly toward the middle of the table top, turning slightly to steady the stack with her left hand.

Taking note that the mugs were no longer in danger of toppling, Rowan hurried over to where Master Boffin stood with the gold-haired lass. She gave the new guest her best smile, motioning for her to follow along.

‘I’m Rowan,’ she said, glancing back as she opened the door to the hallway which led into the hallway that wound into the hill. She picked up a fat candle from the wooden box just inside the entryway and lit it from the lantern near the door. ‘I think this room might suit,’ she said, smiling as she opened the door to the fourth room down the hall and gestured for the lass to enter.

There was a cot against the far wall with a colorful, thick quilt covering it and a fat, soft looking pillow resting against the plain headboard. A woven rag rug ran alongside the bed. On the left wall was an oaken chest of drawers with a pitcher and washbasin sitting atop it, and next to them a clean white towel and wash cloth. A little clay jam-pot perched on the edge of the chest nearest the bed, its riot of flowers from the Inn’s garden making a final welcoming statement.

Rowan lit the lantern on the bedside table. ‘There’s a bath room just at the end of the hall...shared. Let me know if you want a bath. Otherwise,’ she went on, picking up the pitcher from the chest, ‘I’ll just fetch you some nice hot water and you can have a quick wash up here in your room.’ She swept her glance about the neat little room. ‘Is there anything else you need? I’d be happy to get it for you...Miss...??? Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.’