The Golden Perch Inn

[Noinkling]

A small cloud of smoke hovered over the table where the three Dwarves sat. The platter of ham and cheese, the baskets of bread were empty; their bellies full. The three sat back in their chairs quite at ease, pipes in hand.

‘Well, I say from here we stay off The Great Road and head west through the Green Hills.’ Skirvir drew in a mouthful of smoke and blew out a trio of fat rings.

Bávor leaned forward, pouring himself another mug of ale. ‘Yes, but what say we stay off the main road there, too.’ He raised his mug to his companions. ‘Let’s rough it through the hills, like our fathers’ fathers did.’ He pitched his voice a little lower. ‘You know, when they were bringing that shipment east.’ He raised his brows at his brother and cousin. ‘Could be the luck runs our way with this. What say you?’

‘Fine with me,’ Skirvir agreed, topping off his own mug. ‘But I say we nose about here a bit; look and listen for anything might fine tune what route we should be taking.’

‘Sounds good!’ Bívor added. ‘There’s no hurry. Lain there for years, it should weather another few days or so without problem.’ He looked to see where the Innkeeper was. ‘Why doesn’t one of you get us a room? I could use a quick nap before supper.’

[Undómë]

Rowan hurried Meliot off the little porch and around to the side of the inn, away from the kitchen. There was a small little arbor there covered with ivy, a private sort of place. And especially now that supper was drawing near and most of the guests and workers were gathered back inside.

‘I’ve only a few moments before Cook will be needing me to help with the next meal.’ She glanced about, trying to make sure no one was about to listen in on them. ‘Show me what you found in the man’s room.’

Their voices fell into hushed whisperings as Meliot unfolded the paper and smoothed it out on the bench between them.

[Dimturiel]

Meliot followed Rowan, her heart beating with impatience at the thought of what her friend might say of her discovery. She had no doubt that she had found something very important, something that would give her weeks, if not even months of talking and of being in the centre of atention. She took the piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Rowan.

"So, what do you think of it?" she asked, pausing to examine Rowan's amazed features. "I for one find it most suspicious. And I have no doubt now that this man is up to no good. Why, he surely stole this map and the jewells. I say the sooner he's out of here, the better for us all. Why, who knows what else he is capable of?"

[Forest Elf]

“Well, at least you get to get out… Sorry about your being sent away.” Gable added, remembering the time when she too was sent away to an elderly hobbit couple, here in the Shire. She did respect them, and there were times when she missed her parents desperately, yet she loved life in the Shire, at the same time she missed Rivendell. Cir’s saying her true name, brought up a lot of memories, from when she was younger, since no one around here, until now, of course, had ever mentioned her true name.

She walked off to the kitchen to see if she could do anything, after Cir had joined in his sister’s conversation with Dick. She pictured her Mother’s smiling face, then her Father’s, and nearly walked into a wall, so focused on the memory.

She shook her head to clear the memory, and walking into the kitchen said, trying to sound like her normal self; “Is there anything that I can do to help? Since the stables have been taken care of, I can make myself useful around here. I’m good for more than taking care of horses, especially in being an elf.”

[Tevildo]

"A gold coin? Oh, Jack, are you certain? I've never found anything in my entire life, except a lost mitten that belonged to a young hobbit lad and a small purse with pennies that a Mannish peddler misplaced in the marketplace. Of course, I gave the purse back," Tollers hastily added to be sure that Jack knew he wasn't the type to walk off with someone else's money.

"But what is that hammer? I've never seen a Shire coin with a hammer on it. In fact that hammer looks a bit odd to me. Farmers use hammers to nail on roof shingles or put up a shed in their backyard, but that thing looks pretty formidable. The only folk I've seen carrying a hammer like that were two dwarves coming through the Shire on their way to visit some kinfolk."

A worried look crossed Tollers' face. "Jack, perhaps, I shouldn't keep this coin. After all, it's not mine. Perhaps I should turn it in to the shiriff, and he'll know what to do. Only I wanted to keep it all for myself, and be able to show it off to the others at the Inn. What do you think?"

Tollers reached down, picked up the string of fish, and turned back in the direction of the Golden Perch, but not before hastily grabbing the coin back from Jack and tucking it inside his inner vest pocket.

[Envinyatar]

‘You keep that coin safe, my friend.’ Jack lengthened his stride just a little to catch up to the Hobbit. ‘And if I were you, I wouldn’t go showing it about just yet.’ He put his hand lightly on Tollers’ shoulder. The coin looks really old, Tollers. I’ll just bet it doesn’t belong to anybody. I’ll bet they’re dead, whoever it was as lost it.' He nodded his head as if considering the problem. 'You know, I was just thinking…..where there’s one coin there probably are more.’

He stopped and stood looking upriver from where they’d tied up Tollers’ boat. The Stock Brook wound away, west, and out of sight. In the distance it became a thin silver ribbon that narrowed down to a faint gleam as it entered the shadows of the trees and hills.

‘Maybe this washed down the river…..maybe if we went up the Stock we could find others.’ He grinned and nodded at his companion. ‘Boy, oh boy! Wouldn’t that just be a treat to show everyone at the Inn? A whole handful of coins….or maybe even more….’

They reached the door to the kitchen and Tollers handed the cleaned fish into Mistress Brandybuck. Jack smiled at the cook, hoping she’d forgotten his misadventures with her dishes earlier. He handed over a basket of fat, thick mushrooms, all cleaned and layered in a basket with moss. ‘Thought these might taste good with those trout,’ he said. ‘Can’t beat a good fry-up of fish and mushrooms….no, ma’am!’

[Arry]

Will sat on the edge of his bed and drank down the rest of the cup of willowbark tea. A cold concoction that had started out hot when he’d first laid down. He felt much better now, he thought, as the cool liquid ran down his throat. His head had stopped throbbing and whatever he looked at was in focus now. Will stood up gingerly. The ground stayed put beneath his feet, no longer bucking and heaving like the surface of a storm tossed lake.

So far, so good, he thought to himself. His arm, too, seemed to be cooperating. His wrist ached dully and his broken finger was well splinted. As long as he didn’t try to wriggle the fingers of his left hand, the finger felt comfortable enough.

He stopped at the well and washed his hand and face as best he could. ‘’Twill have to do,’ he said to himself. He made his way into the kitchen, nodding a greeting to those there.

‘Those look great!’ he said, clapping Tollers on the back. ‘Did you catch them all yourself?’ He spied the mushrooms and grinned. ‘Can’t wait for Cela to work her magic on these!’