The Golden Perch Inn

[Undómë]

‘My goodness, now who’s knocking at the door?!’ Rowan sat her tray of dirty dishes and mugs down on a table again. Wiping her hands on her apron, she made for the door and pulled it open. She craned her head back so as to take in the very tall man who stood there.

Biting her lip a little, she stifled a giggle thinking of the first man she’d let in just a few moments ago. Though he’d been taller than her, still he was much smaller than this fellow. The long and the short of it . . . caromed about in her head as she looked from one to the other.

‘Rowan Muddifoot, at your service,’ she told him, remembering this time to introduce herself. ‘No need to apologise,’ she tried to assure him as he stood there. ‘We’re sort of off the beaten track for most of the Big Folk. But anyway, to answer your question – you’re in the Shire, the Eastfarthing to be exact. The town you’ve come into is called Stock. And this fine place is The Golden Perch Inn. Great ale, good food!’

She smiled a welcome and motioned for him to come in.

‘Another of the Big Folk just got here right before you.’ She pointed to where Robby Appledore sat. ‘I was just going to drop of my load of dirty dishes and such and then come back and take his order. Would you like to sit with him, then I can see to the both of you.’