[Hiriel]

Crouched over slightly to avoid detection in the dusty pall of mid-morning , Lara Stonetoe trotted towards the Green Dragon Inn. She was in a state of half-elation and half-terror as she approached the window of the building from the back, not daring the door. After all, Fred’s bet had said nothing about actually going in, both of them not even near their tweens yet. She’d be in such trouble. And as bored as her mother had been lately, she did not relish the prospect of getting caught as she might have done otherwise, just to see the jumpy old busybody blast off, like the tales of Wizard Fireworks her gammer sometimes told.

Licking her lips which had somehow withered, whether from the heat or the nerves she couldn’t tell, Lara had to jump up several times, bobbing like fish bait in the Brandywine, to get a firm hold of the dusty window ledge. But even though her limbs were shaking like mad, the view inside was worth it. Oh, Fred was going to be so jealous when she told him about it! There was an elf accepting keys to a room, great gaffers alive, a real elf! Standing calm yet proud, her great ears pointed skyward, her eyes full of, well, it was something Lara couldn’t quite put words too. Starlight, but more brilliant, and more delicate. She even forgot to think how horribly jealous Fred would be, and how chicken he would feel for brushing off the bet when she got home and told him all about it.

Forgetting her earlier fear and squinting till her eyes were almost a line of wrinkles, she peered deeper into the tavern to find several hobbits taking their ease and, bless the Thain, another elf, in light conversation with a hobbit her mother knew, Miz Greenbow or Greenfen or Greengage or somersuch. Was it possible for some creature so high as an elf to be talking pleasantly to normal hobbit gentlefolk? Lara’s mouth opened slightly, struck with the wonder of it. But by now her limbs were tired and her neck wheezed, whining in complaint of the angle she was using to look. “Well, it wouldn’t be such a risk to take a peek through the door, she thought, licking her dry lips again. “ My legs are sore, and it’d put Fred right in his place, too! This seemed to be far more convincing than her still nervous feelings on peering into a place meant for hobbits twice her age, and so she crouched below the sightline of the window, and feeling increasing foolish at her care, crept towards the front door.

Her worry was for naught, however, for as she slunk towards the door, two other big folk (she wasn’t sure if they were men or elves, having never seen so many tall people together in one place before) made to enter it. Lara, gasping, clubbed, ripped her body backwards, clutching to the corner of the wall, but lost her balance in the bargain. The slighter of the two made it in the door fine, but she tripped into the big wooden frame just as the second made to enter it, knocking him flat.