The Golden Perch Inn

[Forest Elf]

Gable felt ignored, she had asked if there was any help needed and there they go on and ignore her. Gable thought back to earlier that day, when she heard Primrose cry out for help. Before that, Will had been patching the roof, but now, he can’t from his sprained wrist.

That’s it! Gable thought to herself. I can finish patching the roof! She walked outside, and over to the stables. She would finish patching the roof, she wanted to and who knows what can happen while on a roof, when supper is just being started.

Gable righted the ladder and balanced it. She started up it, noticing the fifth wrung hung loose on its spot in the ladder, she skipped it, and reached for the one over it, and stepped over it.

She was on the roof, the wind blowing her hair. Now she knew she could, so long as no one came looking for her, or saw her. She started patching the roof, and when she got to a spot on the roof, close to the edge, she tore the shingling off, and heard them land.

She put up more shingles and after the third, she reached over to grab another shingle, but couldn’t. Gable looked at her sleeve and blinked. She couldn’t believe it, already the third shingle and she had made a mistake! She had nailed her sleeve to the roof under the shingle, and the nails were too tight to just take them back out again.

Gable turned to call out for help, instead she slipped and her sleeve was the only thing holding her onto the roof. Gable grabbed onto her sleeve, like a rope now that it’s tightened as she dangled from the roof, her lower arm on the roof, and her elbow bent at the edge of it. Gable shouted, “Help! Please, someone help me!”

[Dimturiel]

Meliot agreed reluctantly to Rowan's proposal. The last thing she wanted was to talk to that person, and the thought of having to go again into his room made her shiver. Yet she hid her feelings from her friend. She had no choice now but to put the map back. Therefore, she made for Jack's room. She stood a long time listening at the door, until she finally convinced herself that the room was empty.

Meliot cautiously opened the door and looked inside. Indeed, no one was there. She entered the room, and put the map back where she had found it. She sighed with relief when that was done. "Come to think of it, you're no better than your brothers." she said to herself."Always sneaking around, searching for trouble. You should be ashamed of yourself, Meliot."

But it was too late now for any feeling of remorse for her behaviour. For one thing, she had to get out of there. She walked out, closing the door behind her, and ran all the way down the corridor to the common room, to meet Rowan.

[Celuien]

Afternoon naps were always pleasant. They were all the more pleasant when they ended with a surprise. Primrose awoke, looked around, and smiled. A shiny red apple lay next to her hand. No one was nearby, but she thought she could guess who had brought her the treat. Will. Primrose reached for her crutches and peeked into the kitchen window. He wasn't there. Her eyes drifted toward the stable, and she hopped towards the door, leaning on her crutches. As she came up to the door, she looked up to the roof and spotted Gable. Primrose shook her head. Climbing to the roof wasn't the best idea. Two accidents were enough for one day. But she held her tongue and went into the stable.

A moment later, she wished she hadn't kept silent. Before she even had a chance to say "Will", a clatter on the roof announced yet another mishap. Primrose whirled as quickly as she could with her crutches and looked back outside to find Gable dangling from the roof and shouting.

"Hold on there, lass! Don't fall. We've had enough of that today." Balancing on a single crutch, she pushed the ladder closer to Gable. "Steady your feet on the ladder. It's just next to your foot."

[Glirdan]

‘The line of Dain; isn’t that what you asked about?’ Bávor looked at his brother and cousin. ‘I suppose you could place us there. . . sort of. More like a small fissure off another a fair sized vein branching off the mother-lode.’ Bívor and Skirvir laughed at the analogy. ‘And how about you, Kár? How do you trace your family line?’

"Well, I really do-" he was interrupted by the Hobbit Tollers as he came over to ask if they wanted ale. He awaited patiently as the others rumbled for more ale. 'Now Kár, what were you going to say?' Skirvir asked.

"Well, as I was say-" Thunk! Just then, a young Hobbit lass ran into their table. He chuckled quietly as the Hobbit lass popped out from under the table. "Well hello there young one! Don't mind these three, they're just teasing you. They really do like you," he said and smiled broadly. "Go on. Tell us who young un's are."

[Rose]

‘Now there’s a sight you don’t see every day!’ exclaimed Granny Greenhill as the cart turned up the short path to the inn. Someone, an Elf it looked to be, was hanging from the roof of the stable. And ‘Land sakes!’, if that wasn’t some lass on crutches trying to help the Elf down.

Penstemon Greenhill clasped onto Tanni’s arm and pointed over to the unusual scene. The ride into Stock had been fairly uneventful until now. And she’d felt she and the two young Big Folk had gotten to know each other a little better as the cart had rolled along. Now she urged Rhys to hurry over to where the double catastrophe was about to occur.

‘Hurry and get out and help those two!’ she directed in an anxious voice, as Rhys brought the cart to a halt nearby and set the brake.

[piosenniel]

Rhys ran to the ladder and asked the Hobbit with the crutch to step out of harm’s way. He moved the ladder to where the Elvish woman was suspended from the roof and climbed up a few rungs, bringing one of her feet to bear on one of the ladders top rungs. He climbed down quickly then and steadied the ladder for her.

‘Can you get down now, Miss?’ he called up to her. ‘Is there something else we can do to help?’

[Firefoot]

Cela was already working herself into a right temper by the time Dick walked in. Not asking my input, as if this isn’t my kitchen as much as – even more than – his. Sending the clumsy giant in to handle the dishes. Could have put him out in the stable – or to finish repairing the roof, there’s an idea – instead… And now he walked in, wanting to know what the problem was, as if it wasn’t as plain as the nose on his face! She was not bothered by the thought that he could not, of course, easily see his own nose.

“I’ll tell you what’s eating me,” she said, glaring at him. “That fellow you’ve had in here, that’s who – Jack. Broken more dishes in a day than have been broken in the past month.” As if to accentuate the point, she heard another crash just outside the kitchen door and winced. “There’s another. You might have asked him if he’d ever worked in some sort of kitchen – any sort! – before sending him in here to work with dishes,” she accused, jabbing her spoon in Dick’s direction and not even minding the little bits of broth that flew from it. “As if I don’t have enough else to deal with right now!”

She spun back around to her stew and in doing so caught sight of the very last people she would have chosen to hear that: Will and Primrose, coming in from outside.

[Undómë]

Two bowls of piping hot stew, a basket of warm, sliced bread, honey, butter, and a pot of plum conserve (for Will; it was one of his favorites as she recalled), a heaping plate of fried mushrooms, and two nice, full mugs of the hard cider from the cellar – that was the savory burden Rowan had balanced carefully on her tray.

‘There you go, you two,’ she said, smiling at the both of them as she deftly placed the food, drink, and condiments before them. ‘Now you let me know if I can fetch anything else.’

She paused for a moment, looking to where the man was disappearing through the door to the Big Folk rooms. She shook her head, turning back to Will and Prim. ‘I swear – we should mark this day on the calendar. Two injuries, one of the Big Folk gone all fainty, and an Elf who managed to nail her sleeve to the roof! Next year maybe we should shut the doors tight and just keep to our beds tile the day turns anew.’

‘Say!' she went on. 'I heard those two young Elves over there were going to sing and play for us.’ She looked hard at where Cir and Cir stood. ‘Can’t say as I see any flutes or pipes or such. Course maybe they’ll just magic something out of their sleeves or even the air.’ She chewed on the edge of her lip. ‘Maybe I should offer them some wine or ale or something to wet their whistles before they begin.’ Rowan made her way to where the two Elves were.

‘Pardon, Cir….. and Cir…..may I bring you something to drink before you play and sing?’

[Folwren]

Dick had scarcely put his head in at the door before the stranger turned his eyes towards him. A short pause followed and then the man smiled. Dick returned it and came in.

Colren looked peaceful where he lay. He was not afraid, and he had a friendly look in his face. Dick felt he liked him almost at once. The trusting sort of people were always easy to get along with.

“Good evening, sir!” Dick said in a quiet voice. “You had quite a tumble walking into the common room, I must say.” He smiled broadly as he came by the bedside. “How do you feel now? Do you think you could eat something?”

[Folwren]

Before Daisy quite knew what was happening – before she had even overcome the shock of running into the dwarf in fact – she had been swept up by powerful hands and placed on the tabletop. From this perch she could straight into the dwarf’s face, and for a few moments, her entire attention was locked on those eyes. He and two other dwarves were speaking, but none of their words registered until he asked her what her name was.

“And you, little master,” he went on, looking over toward the boy, “have you come to give greeting, also?”

The siblings glanced at each other, their eyes wide and their faces confused – both unsure quite how to answer.

“Don't mind these three,” a fourth dwarf said. Daisy turned her head to look at him. He was smiling kindly. “They're just teasing you. They really do like you. Go on. Tell us who you young un's are."

“Daisy,” she said, shyly shrinking back. She looked around again at the dwarf holding her gently. “Daisy Boffin, sir. I’m sorry I ran into your chair. Dorlind was chasing me.” She waved her hand towards her brother.

“I woulda caught her, too,” Dorlind said, walking forward the last few paces. He stood right by the table now and stared around from one dwarven face to the next. “I’m Dorlind Boffin. Daisy's my little sister. Are you going to tell us a dragon story tonight?”

[Forest Elf]

“Actually, I can’t get down… When I was patching the roof, I accidentally nailed my sleeve under the shingle. So, I’m kind of stuck up here, for awhile.” Gable replied, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Gable climbed onto the roof awkwardly, from her sleeve still being nailed to the roof. She sat down, next to the shingle that she had accidentally nailed her sleeve under, and the nail was too tight for her to remove.

[Undómë]

Rowan was so distracted as she waited for Meliot to replace the map and hurry back out that she mixed up a number of orders. Ale had gone to a table who had ordered tea and fish stew to a Hobbit from Stock who’d only wanted some bread and butter to go with his fried mushrooms. Red-faced, she had busily explained she’d had some rather bad news that day and just wasn’t herself. When pressed for details, though, she simply looked solemn and sighed and shook her head in a grave manner.

She had just finished righting her mistakes when Meliot came hurrying toward her. ‘Done?’ she whispered to her friend as she drew near. Meliot’s face seemed white as a sheet, and Rowan feared the worst. That somehow Jack or someone else had caught Meliot out in her burgling. though it’s not really burgling, is it, if you’re putting something back . . . she reasoned to herself.

But Meliot shook her head in the affirmative, and Rowan let out the breath she’d been holding. She took her friend by the arm and led her to a table. ‘Enough excitement for today, eh? You just sit right down here. I’ll bring you a nice mug of nut brown ale to steady your nerves and a plate of fried mushrooms and bread.’ She raised her brow in question. ‘I could manage a bowl of fish stew, too, if you’d like.’

The attention of the two lasses were drawn to the kitchen door as it opened out into the common room. There was Jack! With Master Boffin! Rowan looked away quickly not wanting to appear to be staring their way.

[Envinyatar]

Jack recalled a few of his manners and opened the door to the common room, allowing the innkeeper to pass through before him. ‘I think,’ said Jack, having given some brief consideration to the offer Master Boffin had made, ‘that I’d like to work for my room. Though, I was wondering if we might come to some agreement about having a bit of food, too.’

He looked round the common room at the guests, noting that the server lass who’d seen him to his bath earlier . . . Rowan, that’s what she called herself . . . that she’d been glancing his way and then away quickly. ‘Now I wonder what that’s all about,’ he murmured to himself. He shrugged it off and turned back to his conversation with the innkeeper.

‘So, what would you like me to do? Shall I bring the folk drinks?’ He was really hoping that he would not be asked to go into the kitchen to get food. Cela was in the kitchen, and as he’d noted before, she scared him.

[Noinkling]

‘Well now, I suppose we could manage a story for you tonight...’ Skirvir nodded, looking towards his cousins. ‘But dragons?’ He moved his head from one child to the other. ‘They’re great, fiercesome creatures, you know. Not given to niceties. And they’ve great long teeth, very sharp. And claws to match. Their great bellies hold a burning fire and sometimes they breathe out those flames, setting whatever is in their path on fire.’

He leaned back a bit in his chair and measured the girl and boy with the length of his thumb. His eyes gave them each a considering look. ‘Why the both of you would make barely a toothsome snack for some hungry wyrm.’

Skirvir lifted Daisy from the table and set her down gently by her brother. ‘You’re young pups, little mistress, little master. And I’m not wanting to get in any trouble with your mother or father. Perhaps you should see to asking them first about whether they want you listening to stories about dragons first. Agreed?’

He laughed and pointed to Bívor before they could answer. ‘My cousin, here, Bívor, used to get so scared when one of his uncles would tell stories that we’d have to leave two little lanterns burning at night where he slept – to drive away any scary shadows!’

Bávor chuckled at his brother’s expense while Bívor simply huffed and puffed a bit and shook his head as if to say it was all a grand lie.

[Rose]

‘My, my! Now wasn’t that exciting!’ Penstemon’s bright eyes looked from Rhys to Tanni. ‘Not that I would want her to get hurt; but it’s not often you see a young Elf hanging from the roof by her sleeve, now is it?’ She stumped up the step of the porch leaning on her walking stick, and nodded at Rhys as he opened the door for both herself and his sister.

The heat from the fire washed over her as she entered the common room, along with the rise and fall of voices, the clatter of spoons against bowls, and the savory smells that came in bursts each time the kitchen door opened.

‘Mushrooms! And trout!’ Granny exclaimed. Just then a young Hobbit passed by with a tray of mugs foaming over with ale. ‘And I believe I’ll have one of those, too,’ she said pointing to the tray as it passed by. She craned her neck looking about the room.

‘Lots of Big Folk here. Can’t see over them. Can one of you see a good table for the three of us?’

[Arry]

‘As if I don’t have enough else to deal with right now!’

Will’s mouth dropped open at the sight of Mistress Brandybuck jabbing her cook spoon at Master Dick; that and the loud angry tone in which her words were couched.

He was just about to close the door and suggest to Prim they walk around to the main entrance when Master Dick spoke up. ‘It seems Miss Brandybuck and I have some things to discuss. Will, Prim – you do not mind if I ask you to step out for a few minutes? Unless you would like to put your input on the matter. I don’t know that it’s all that serious, but our dear cook seems to think it is.’

‘Input? No, I don’t think so.’ Will looked toward Prim, his brows raised. ‘Just looking for a bite to eat. Perhaps Prim and I will just follow up on your request and go off the common room.’ He gave Prim’s arm a little squeeze. ‘Shall we go?’

[Lilly]

Taffy pushed his spoon about in his bowl; moving the chunks of fish from one side to the other. Stews, and especially fish stews, were not his favorite sort of food. He looked up to see if his mother or father were watching. They were not, and so he reached for another chunk of bread, slathering it with butter and honey.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Seren, who’d sidled up next to him, wanting another piece of honey bread herself.

‘I don’t like it either,’ she whispered, climbing up on his chair to kneel beside him. She took the spoon from him and made a few passes in the rapidly cooling stew. ‘Glop!’ she mouthed at him, making a face at the gooey mess that rolled off the spoon she held and plopped onto the surface the bowl’s contents. She shuddered a little and wrinkled her nose. ‘Doesn’t it look like somebody already ate it and then upchucked it?’ She pinched her nose shut as if the smell disgusted her.

Taffy’s giggle was cut short as he heard his and his sister’s name called. He looked up guiltily and there was his mother giving him her steely eyed stare. ‘Don’t be rude, you two! Just push your bowls away from you if you’re done.’ Taffy could see his father shaking his head at him.

‘No dessert for you two!’ his mother went on. ‘Now get down from the table and get your hands and faces cleaned up. And no more remarks about the good food that the cook worked hard to make for you.’

Taffy tried to look contrite as he helped his sister down from the chair. Taking Seren’s hand, he hurried her back to their room. A few quick swipes with a washcloth to her face and likewise to both their hands and he declared it good enough.

‘Hey, let’s go see if that storyteller Dwarf is done eating,’ Taffy said as they left the room. He held Seren back for a moment before they entered the common room; making sure his parents’ attention was elsewhere. The two inched around the edge of the room, making for the Dwarves’ table . . .

[Tevildo]

By the middle of the supper hour, Tolers had lost all count of the number of bowls of fish stew and flagons of ale that he'd served up to the customers of the Golden Perch. He felt that his dedicated service in the common room definitely made up for any small shortcomings earlier in the day. But no matter how hard he worked, Tollers could not get his mind off the gold coin with the hammer and anvil tucked inside his vest pocket.

Still, Tollers was careful to pay attention to his duties and, with a wide grin plastered on his face, responded promptly when Dick spoke to him. "Oh, yes, sir. That's exactly what I was trying to do......to keep Jack out of the kitchen. You see, it's as much for his own good as for Cela. Jack is a wee bit afraid of Cela's bite, and he'd rather not step inside her den. For one of the Big Folk, he's got a good head on his shoulders, I'd say, and knows what's best for his health."

Remembering the dishes that he'd stacked up halfway to the ceiling on Jack's tray, Tollers silently promised that he'd be more careful in the future. He did not say anything to Dick about that part. Thank goodness, Jack had managed to keep all the bowls from toppling over onto his customers....at least so far.

Fishing into his vest pocket, Tollers fingered the silver shilling that Skirvir had given him in payment for the ale. He could not keep himself from checking on it every five minutes. Earlier that night, he had deposited twelve pence in the Inn's money box from his own leather pouch so he could keep the silver shilling for himself. Holding the golden coin in one palm and the silver shilling in the other, Tollers had noticed that, although the pictures on the coins were not an exact match, they were very, very close. Looking at the two hammers, he had almost squealed in delight.

It was then that a bold plan had begun to form in Tollers' mind. He must be extremely careful. He mustn't tell the Dwarf or anyone else where he'd found the coin. But perhaps if he spun an imaginative tale he could get more information out of Skirvir or one of his fellow Dwarves so that he could learn what this thing was. It would have to be a wild and wooly tale with no connection to the Inn, the Stock Brook, or even the Shire. And he would need to speak with the Dwarf in private, not here in the middle of a crowded room with so many nosey hobbits milling about who loved to pry into their neighbors' business.

The first place to start was to find out what room the Dwarves would be occupying in the Inn. Tollers' eyes darted back to Master Dick. Trying to sound as casual as possible, he queried, "Those nice Dwarves, especially the one named Skirvir....you wouldn't happen to know what room they have for tonight?"