The Golden Perch Inn

[Undómë]

The inn’s business this mid-day was picking up nicely Rowan thought as she and Penny busied themselves about the common room taking orders for food and drink. There was Hamish Greengage and his son Thom just coming through the doorway. Big folk from Bree way; most likely trading pigs for breeding with Gaffer Rushybanks. Best pigs in Stock – the Gaffer. In the whole Eastfarthing, really, in her opinion. Minto Bargepole and his brother, Griffo, sat at their usual table by the window. Bargemen from down Deephallow way. Bringing bundles of wool, sacks of hazelnuts from Willowbottom, and if she was lucky, a cask or two of that very fine barley-wine their cousins made. Tasty on the tongue, it was, and what a kick if you had too much. Like her Pa’s shaggy-eared old donkey.

Yes, the room was filling up - with familiar faces mixed with new. And all looking hungry and thirsty. Better throw a few chunks of wood on the fire, she thought. All that door opening was letting in the cold breezes.

Rowan thanked her lucky stars Miz Puddifoot had shown up and pitched in to do the cooking. If it were just her and Prim, the poor customers would most likely be getting nothing more than bread and cheese . . . and stale bread from yesterday, most likely.

She waved to Penny who was bustling about taking orders and clearing tables. Thanks goodness for another pair of hands out here!

‘Lunch is ready!’ She made the announcement in a clear, loud voice. ‘Beans stewed with onions and herbs and ham. And plenty of hot biscuits to fill in the empty corners!’ She smiled widely, taking in the room. ‘And for any who haven’t met her already, that’s Penny, our new server.’ She pointed to where Penny stood, a tray of used cups and plates and cutlery balanced on one hip as she wiped the table in front of her. ‘Rowan, here,’ she said, giving a brief wave. ‘Just call us over if you need something!’

Rowan hurried toward the kitchen and peeked her head in through the door. ‘Looks like we’ll have a full house, to day, ladies! Get ready to ladle out those beans!!’

[Durelin]

Reginald wasn't at all sure about his decision. He hadn't been since his legs had started to ache and he had grown tired of telling himself that he could not worry about what the darkness held. He needed only to keep his head about him. And his possessions close.

That first sleep -- which he had not settled down for until morning, so that he had a good distance between himself and Bree -- that had made him want to turn around and return home to his bed. But that would have only made things worse, and besides that, his legs had to carry him all the way back first.

He had made it into Shire lands now, and found himself slightly refreshed by the pleasant atmosphere of Hobbit holes and pastures. It was a little nice, in a way, to feel big, though he would never say that to a Hobbit. He had known a few in Bree, as acquaintances. But somehow it was different -- this was entirely the Hobbits' world that he was wandering into. He was a stranger in more ways than one, and that rather felt good.

Reginald could not stand another day without a real meal. He knew that he could not go throwing his coin away left and right, and that he had to learn to live on the road as adventurers did and such...but he deserved it today. He had made it long enough. And he could not pass by every Hobbit inn without enjoying their hospitality...this was part of seeing the Shire, certainly.

Having been directed quite flatly to the Golden Perch Inn in Stock (he apparently was rather blind to have missed the sign), Reginald gingerly stooped and entered and let his eyes adjust to the interior. He heard a woman shouting about beans and thought he would faint with hunger. He found an empty table and threw himself onto a bench, nearly ripping his cloak and bag off to unburden himself.

Glancing around the inn, he noticed at least one other woman of his stature if not necessarily his kind. "Could I have whatever it is I smell...you said something about beans?" he asked of the first Hobbit maid who came his way. Without really thinking about it, Reginald was putting on a good show of 'lost and pathetic.'

[Undómë]

Another of the Big Folk, Rowan noted, as the man in the brown cloak entered. And he looks as if he’d traveled a great distance she thought as he threw himself onto a bench and just as hastily threw off his cloak and dropped his satchel. He looked nearly done in and here it was only mid-day!

She fetched a big bowl of beans and ham and a basket of biscuits. ‘Better add some slices of cheese for those biscuits,’ she murmured to herself, ‘as well as butter and honey and jam. He might be very hungry after all his exertions!’ With a deft hand, she loaded her serving tray and hurried to the man’s table.

‘Here you go, sir,’ she said with a smile, laying his cutlery to one side and placing the food within reach. ‘I’m Rowan, by the way, one of the Inn servers. That other one over there is Penny.’

Rowan took a step back, her empty tray hanging down by her side. ‘Now, would you be wanting something to drink with that, sir? Ale, tea, milk, water…..?

[piosenniel]

The question of onions was put aside as the lunch business began to pick up. Iris helped dish out beans for the hungry customers and lined the little baskets with fresh cloth napkins ready for the biscuits.

‘Let’s grab a quick bite here, Prim,’ she said, ladling out a small bowl of beans and ham for each of them. ‘We’ll just join you, Master Bramble,’ she went on, giving him a quick nod. She jumped up from her chair, even before she’d got comfortable. ‘Now, I do like my beans with a sprinkle of onions,’ she confided as she fetched a little bowl of them for the table. ‘Remind me, Prim, to cut some parsley from the herb pot over there on the window sill.’ She gave Tolly a little smile. ‘Freshens your breath right up I’ve always found.’

[Durelin]

Reginald stared at the spread being placed before him. It looked like he was getting the works! And at this point he didn't really care how much it cost. Those biscuits looked fresh.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said to the young hobbit woman -- at least she looked young to him -- giving her a smile with as much charm as he could muster in his state. "I'm Reginald," he offered his name, hoping afterward that Rowan would not find that strange but rather polite.

He thought for a moment before settling, "Just some water, please. I think that will do me best," he grinned a little sideways. Reginald immediately started loading up a biscuit with butter and cheese.

[Mithalwen]

By the time Elin finished her tea the Common Room was beginning to fill up. Start of the the lunchtime rush she realised. No place for a sick child. Rowan had pointed her in the direction of their room when she had come to clear the table and she had shepherded her sleepy daughter across to the doorway opposite the bar.

Elin was enchanted when she saw the room, not only was the room warm and welcoming with the brightly patterned quilts and the sweet vase of foliage but it seemed all possible wants had been anticipated. As she removed her boots and helped Annie out of hers, she reflected that hobbitfolk had little to learn about comfort and hospitality. Just as well since the child was about asleep on her feet. A bath could wait til later - a lick and a promise would have to do for now.
She dampened a face flannel and wiped over her daughter's face and hands. She peeled Annie out of her frock and then realised that she had left their luggage in the main room- "I won't be a moment, sweetheart, I just need to get our stuff". It took her barely a minute to retrieve the bags, creeping in stockinged feet, but when she returned to the bedroom Annie was already asleep, curled up on the little bed in her petticoats.

[Rose]

A blast of cold air blew open the inn door sending a small covey of dried leaves skittering in along the wooden floor. Tap…tap…tap…

The sound of her yew walking stick and the flurry of leaves heralded the entrance of a rather elderly hobbit. ‘Cursed wind!’ she exclaimed, shoving her little body against the door in an effort to close it. ‘’Bout blew me over, it did!!’ For all her efforts, the large wooden door did not quite close.

‘Say!’ she called loudly in a rather put-out voice. ‘Can someone give old Granny a hand here?’

[Galadriel55]

An aged hobbit came into the inn, bringing more wind into the cosy room. But this time it was too strong for her to close the door by herself. ‘Say!’ she said to the room at large, ‘Can someone give old Granny a hand here?’ Oh bother!

However, Al stood up and strutted towards the exit, while Mr. Boffin poured him some beer. Together he and the elderly hobbit managed to shut the door. “I’m Alferad Brandybuck,” he introduced himself with a small bow, which nonetheless came out extravagant, “Of Brandy Hall,” he added with a sly glance at Hamwill. He then went back to the bar to drink his pot of ale.