The Golden Perch Inn

[Durelin]

'An inquisitive lad,' Griffo was now finding out, had been an understatement of a thought. He had never heard so many questions fly from anyone's mouth in so short a time. Then again, it was never any good trying to keep up with young ones. That was something the gaffer had learned from his own children. And now he was getting up there in age, though he would never say it was nearing time for him to give up the ghost.

"Well, Taffy..." he eyed the hobbit boy across from him, and his eyes twinkled a bit as he watched the little hands move from piece to piece. "It's not all that hard. And you've already figured out where to start. That piece you've got now...yes, that one...that's called a pawn, and it's the simplest piece on the board. And, at least in all the times I've played, they're the pieces that go first."

Then Griffo proceeded to tell the young hobbit how each piece was moved, demonstrating as he did. He was pleased to find that the lad could keep himself still, but the gaffer did his best to keep the explanations brief. He was sure that the boy would have quite enough to amuse himself with simply knowing how each piece traveled across the board.

After he explained each piece, he allowed Taffy to move them around the board as he had been shown. The young hobbit looked to Griffo every once in a while to make sure he was doing it right, and the gaffer simply nodded and smiled in encouragement. When Taffy had full knowledge of how to move chess pieces, Griffo decided to learn some more about the boy before he risked plunging into a full lesson on chess playing that he really didn't feel he was up to instructing.

"You do whittlin', lad? You do seem to have a steady hand." He nodded thoughtfully. "I bet you could do some pieces like these justice."

[Forest Elf]

Gable nodded her thanks and walked out of the barn. She hurriedly made her way through the Inn and to her room, where she cleaned up and rebraided her hair.

She came out of her room, still wearing the boys clothes, and made her way to the kitchen for breakfast, since she hadn't thought of having any before sun up. She walked into the kitchen and asked, "Primrose, can I have some breakfast?"

[Celuien]

"Primrose, can I have some breakfast?"

Primrose's head turned around to catch a view of the speaker. It was Gable. The hobbit smiled, welcoming the intrusion. Gable's appearance was a distraction from talk about Will, and Primrose was afraid that she had been placed on the spot a bit more than was good for her.

"Of course you may! Have a seat. We've biscuits with jam and honey, eggs, and bacon this morning. I was just putting on the tea - ready in half a minute!"

Primrose busied herself with putting a plate together for Gable. As she did so, she wondered about the Elf. What strange chance had brought her to live in the Shire? Hobbits were such stay-at-home folk, other than those Tooks and that Mad Baggins away in Hobbiton. How could a respectable Hobbit couple have come into the charge of an Elf-child? Though Gable had been a fixture at the Inn for years, Primrose had never worked up the courage to ask. But she would today, if for no other reason than to keep her mind off of Will.

The plate was ready. Primrose looked at Cela and Rowan. "Yes, Cela. If you could spare me, I'd like to take the meals to Will. If you can spare me." Flustered again, Primrose snatched the plate of food and hurried it over to Gable.

Primrose asked her question. "Gable. I've been meaning to ask you. How did your kin - the Elves, I mean - come to know Hobbits? I've never heard of Elves in the Shire, and Hobbits have never been great folk for adventures, excepting old Mad Baggins, of course. How did it happen that you came here?

"Now if I'm being an old busybody, never mind me. Just have your breakfast, and we'll call an end of it." Primrose laughed lightly, hoping that Gable would answer.

[Forest Elf]

"Well, to be honest, I'm not really sure how they met, or even came to know them. Just that they were old friends with the couple. But I heard that they came to the shire once, when they were young, to see what this peaceful town is like, disguised as hobbits, where they met up with Merri and Gracie, then left a couple of months later, but I've also heard that Merri and Gracie met them somewhere, but there's a lot of talk about that. . .so I can't really say for sure. . ." Tamia said, thoughtfully, her mind still on the pony that she found.

"Has anyone come in here, looking for their pony?" Gable asked, cassually. "Or have you heard of anyone looking for their pony, or of anyone who has had some. . .troubles with wolves?"

[Celuien]

Primrose sighed. Elven folk had so many mysteries. She didn't think she believed that Elves would disguise themselves as Hobbits. But if Gable said so, she wouldn't press the matter. The Elf had a right to keep her secrets. She was terribly curious, but could accept not knowing more. Other than where Will was concerned, Primrose had good, plain Hobbit sense, and she thought that the affairs of the Elves as they passed to the Sea (or so it was said) could have little impact on life in the Shire. She was content, she supposed, not to know. At least for now.

"Has anyone come in here, looking for their pony? Or have you heard of anyone looking for their pony, or of anyone who has had some. . .troubles with wolves?"

The tea kettle whistled. Primrose hurried to take it off the fire. As she poured the hot water into a teapot, she said, "Wolves? Can't say as I have. I've not heard of any lost ponies either. Why do you ask?"

[Firefoot]

“Wolves? In the Shire?” interjected Cela, who had thus far gone about her business in indignant silence, having been rather annoyed when Gable waltzed into the kitchen asking for breakfast without a word to her. Hmph. “Poppycock. There haven’t been any wolves in the Shire since the Fell Winter, and that was long before any of you were born, and almost before I was. Now, a mad dog I might believe.” For all her sometimes absent-mindedness and mischievous ways, the stolidness of her kind had not wholly escaped Cela, and while some might call Gable adventurous, Cela said fanciful – a little too fanciful. She might do well with a bit of hobbit sense, something several years living in the Shire had not yet managed to instill in her.

“As for missing ponies, I’ve heard naught.” She turned to Primrose with a slight smile. “Now, Primrose, of course I can spare you for a bit this afternoon – I’m not sure what you two lasses take me for, not being able to manage my own kitchen for a short bit on my own. Not that your help isn’t unappreciated, Primrose dear, but I’m not so old as that.”

[Undómë]

Rowan grinned impishly at Cook, biting back a small comment on Cela’s age. She ducked out the door of the kitchen with her refilled tray of breakfast platters and made her round of the customers. Her last basket of hot biscuits was set down for the new family who’d recently come in 'with honey and jam both, if you please, Miss’ from the little girl. Rowan had dipped a little curtsy to the girl, saying she would bring her an extra pot of jam – blackberry, very tasty . . . and Rowan’s favorite one.

She was just on her way back to the kitchen, her empty tray banging along lightly against her ankle when she spied a familiar face. Rowan changed course and headed to Meliot Tussle’s table.

‘I thought you weren’t coming today! Didn’t see you at your usual time.’ Rowan sat her big tray’s edge on the floor in front of her and leaned on it a bit. ‘So what can I get for you, Meliot?’ She leaned in a little closer, pitching her voice a little lower. ‘Did you hear about the Bolger boys? The two younger ones? I heard something about them getting caught by old Noakes. They were getting up before the sun was up and stealing fish out of his traps. What’d you hear?’ Rowan loved gossip, and Meliot always seemed to know things . . .