[Undómë]

The door to the Inn swung open just a little ways as the Hobbit entered. He stomped his feet on the rushy strewn entry way, knocking off the mud he couldn’t avoid on his early morning trek. Hob had been out at first light to the stable to see to Strawberry. She liked her mash a certain way on chilly mornings and he wanted her in a good mood. Soon as the sun was up a bit more he’d be harnessing her to the cart and going into the market place to see what goods he could get sold.

Hob shrugged his cape from is shoulders and hung it on one of the low pegs on the wall near the entry. Not many were up he saw, glancing about the room. A disgruntled looking Dwarf sat near the fire, nursing an ale. A white crow perched near him. And there was one of the Inn workers closing a window against the early day chill. The bird kept a beady eye on one of the other men in the room.

At another table were two of the Big Folk he recognized. Master Benat and the fellow who had joined their table last night to hear Benat’s story. Hob reminded himself he must be back in time for supper as Benat would be telling his story then.

Catching the eye of one of the roving servers, Hob motioned her over to the table he’d taken near the fireplace. He’d have a warmed cider and a sweetroll, and a plate of eggs and potatoes and bacon he told her. ‘Got to stave off the hunger for a long time this morning,’ he said. ‘Long day seeing merchants and setting up in the marketplace.’ She asked what he was in to sell, her face falling when she learned he had no pretties for her to buy. ‘Nay! No ribbons, lass.’ But he smiled kindly at her as he asked her name. ‘But next time, I’ll be sure to have some. And you’ll get the first pick.’

He watched her go smiling to the kitchen; then, he settled back, his feet on the raised hearth, enjoying the warmth.