The World\'s Clumsiest Hobbit?

The sun has not yet risen in Bree, but the sky in the east is already a pale yellow colour, in contrast to the rest of the sky, which is a glorious dark blue. The moon shines bright and full in the west. The marketplace is settled, and Bree\'s inhabitants are just stirring, and beginning their days, or at least, the brave ones are. The air is still, but bitingly cold, so that sensible people remain tucked up in warm beds or next to hot fires.

A strange noise echoes around the otherwise still marketplace. It is the sound of the wooden remains of a wagon, being broken up, coming from the front of Lemuel\'s woodwork shop. He is not the one on smashing duty, however. That benefit falls to an older, taller man. Lemuel watches on, and pulls stray pieces of wood from the wagon, and places them on the roaring fire he has burning in the market square. Sitting next to the fire is an old man, and a woman in her thirties, who are talking and sharing a hot drink.

Amazingly, Brandebras is up before the sun. The young hobbit puffs through the market-place, his breath sending up little jets of frosted air. He\'s well-wrapped as always, with knitted yellow woolly hat and scarf tucked into a dark green overcoat that looks a little too big for him. Today, over his shoulder is a sack - clearly not a heavy one, for it bounces behind him as he moves. He turns his way this way and that, seeking the source of the commotion ...

\"Oh, it\'s you! Good morning, Mister D- Mister Miller.\" For some unknown reason the hobbit\'s cheeks, already pink with cold, become a little pinker. \"Whatever are you doing?\" He moves closer, into range of the fire\'s warmth.

Walking through the market is a tall man, flaxen-haired, cloaked, hooded, leaning on a staff, with a silken-coated grey wolfhound at his side. He shivers a little, and though his cloak is thick and fur-lined, it is covered with snow. It is the foreigner Hraefengar, and his steps meander, hesitant, towards the fire. He stands some bit away, swaying a little, his head turned towards the light.

Lemuel (whose right arm is still in a sling) awkwardly pulls a shard of wood from the wreckage, and tosses it into the fire, before turning to Brandebras, and smiling grimly. The older man rests his axe on the ground for a moment, and in spite of the cold air, wipes his brow. He looks at the hobbit, but not recognizing him hefts his axe once more and plunges it roughly into the side of the wagon.

Lemuel turns from the fire to face Brandebras, and says, \"Morning young \'un. What\'s it look like we\'re doing? I told them hobbits I\'d have it done in a week. Well that\'s not going to happen now, obviously, but I\'m doing the best I can.\" He sees over the top of Brandebras, the foreigner, and then quickly looks away, awkwardly.

\"But ... but ...\" Brandebras stares at the carnage that was once a wagon, and his mouth falls open - his entire expression is one of horror as he jumps to his own conclusion. \"But I thought you were going to /fix/ the Shire visitor\'s wagon? There\'s nothing left!\"

He sees Lemuel look over his head and away, and turns to see who\'s behind him. He jumps, and edges closer to the fire. \"You don\'t - uh, think it\'s hungry?\" he asks worriedly, then adds more charitably, \"Maybe he\'s just feeling cold.\"

The dog nuzzles the foreigner\'s hand, then nudges him, as if it is the dog guiding the man towards the warmth of the fire. And the scop moves without a word, coming closer until the dog steps between him and the heat of the burning. The man blinks, then turns his head left and right, dazedly, still silent.

\"Well, I don\'t know if you saw it after that beastie got to the wagon,\" Lemuel explains, \"But the top\'s about as useful as a book to a blind man, so we\'ve got to take it off and build a whole new one, see?\" He holds up a hand in salute to the newcomer, and says, \"Hullo there, stranger. Come to warm yourself?\"

Brandebras shudders involuntarily at the mention of the \'beasty\'. He nods at Lemuel, homely features screwed up in perplexity and murmurs politely, \"Yes, I see.\" Then honesty compels him to add, \"Well, no I don\'t. But maybe I could help? I was thinking, that since it was- uh, since I was there when you broke your arm, I\'d like to help fix things.\" He beams innocently at the carpenter.

At Lemuel\'s invitation he shifts uneasily - that\'s a very /big/ dog between himself and the dazed-looking Outsider - then murmurs in a stage-whisper, \"That\'s the Outsider who came with the folk with swords. He tells stories. And sings odd songs sometimes. Mister- Mister-\" If Brandebras ever knew a name for the foreigner, it\'s clearly gone right out of his head. His cheeks flush a little more.

The stranger stands utterly stull, swaying, and then he blinks, and stares about him, confused. The dog whuffs softly, and the southerner nods his head, as if understanding. He rubs his hand across his brow, then begins to speak. His voice is rich and resonant, and the syllables he utters are rolling and expressive, but unintelligible. \"Hraefengar,\" he says at last, then sighs. \"Fire, yes. I am... cold...\"

Lemuel smiles at Brandebras\'s offer, and can\'t help but laugh a little. The tall man hacking away at the wagon rolls his eyes at the offer, and looks a little less than pleased about it, but for now he says nothing, though he does look interested at Hraefengar. After staring just a little too long to be polite, he turns back to his work.

Lemuel extends his left hand to Hraefengar, and smiles warmly. He says, \"Well met then. I\'m Lemuel. This\" he points to the woman sitting next to the fire, \"Is my wife, Cath.\" He goes on to introduce the old man as his uncle, Carrick, and the tall man doing the chopping as his cousin, Andrick.

\"If you\'re that cold, why don\'t you come and sit a while. Cath will give you some tea, I\'m sure, won\'t you Cath?\" The woman nods, and disappears into the shop.

Lemuel turns back to Brandebras, and says, with a grin on his face, \"Of course. If you\'re really keen to help. Why don\'t you get up in the wagon there - don\'t worry, the bottom\'s safe - and chuck out some of the smaller bits that are loose, into the fire?\"

\"Mister Heffingar,\" Brandebras repeats, smiling politely up at Hraefengar, though there\'s a little nervous twitch as his gaze shifts to the wolfhound. \"Nice to meet you again.\"

At Lemuel\'s suggestion he nods eagerly. \"Of course, Mister Miller, I can do that!\" Dumping his sack down on the ground, he trots toward the remnants of teh wagon and starts to climb nimbly up, looking over his shoulder as he does. Wolfhounds can\'t climb, can they? He\'ll be quite safe ...

Hraefengar shifts the staff to his left hand, which twitches some, and takes Lemuel\'s hand in his. The Rohir\'s hand is icy, clammy, nearly frostbit-cold. He nods his head, then goes to the fire, and he seats himself. \"You have my thanks,\" he says, speaking the Westron fluently, but with an accent strange even for people of the South. He sighs, lowering his head at the warmth.

Lemuel smiles as he watches the young hobbit clambering around the wagon, then says, \"Watch for splinters on your feet there!\" He recoils at the coldness of the hand, and says, \"Goodness, you\'re freezing, aren\'t you?\" At that point, Cath returns, carrying a well-crafted wooden mug, which is steaming with a brown liquid, which she offers to Hraefengar.

Brandebras, having reached the top of the wagon-side, drops down with an oof and a thud, only the very top of his curly head visible from outside now. \"I\'m fine, Mister-\" A yelp indicates the point at which one furry foot indeed finds a splinter. The next few moments are quiet as he concentrates on pulling it out. Then speech continues. \"There\'s some loose bits here ...\"

The next instant, a lopsided, splintered piece of wood comes whirling toward the fire - which, of course, means toward the group of people gathered round it.

Lemuel meanwhile chides Brandebras, saying, \"Here, watch where you\'re throwing it!\" He softens a little, then says, \"Now why don\'t you just drop it off the side there, away from people, and we can stick it in the fire later?\"

The old man sitting by the fire is none too impressed by the flying wood that hits him in the knee. He shakes his walking stick gruffly at the young hobbit, then rises slowly to his feet, leaning heavily on the stick. He mutters something about going where its warm and free from raining branches, then walks away, pointedly ignoring Hraefengar.

Lemuel meanwhile chides Brandebras, saying, \"Here, watch where you\'re throwing it!\" He softens a little, then says, \"Now why don\'t you just drop it off the side there, away from people, and we can stick it in the fire later?\"

He turns his attention once more to the seated man. Lemuel\'s wife gives Lemuel a worried look, eyebrows raised.

Brandebras, unable to see the effect of his throw, nonetheless hears the mutterings and - worse - Lemuel\'s scolding. \"Sorry!\" he pipes up. \"I\'ll do that.\" There is the sound of shifting as he moves warily across what\'s left of the wagon floor. \"You mean the other side, over he- aaah!\"

The word ceases midway as the entire wagon begins to list - fortunately away from fire and those gathered round the dazed-seeming stranger. The splintered ediface sways gracefully and then, with the creak and groan of wood and a sudden snap as a wheel-axle gives way, the whole thing topples onto its side.

Then there is silence. Peace, perfect peace.

Hraefengar has not reacted to the flying wood, though he does leap to his feet at the hobbit\'s cry, leaps and almost falls. He staggers, clinging to his staff, and the hot liquid sleams where is splashes, onto the ground, onto his hand. He winces, but starts to move towards the toppled cart anyway.

Lemuel looks aghast as the wagon collapses, then he groans loudly. Andrick leaps back, dropping his axe, but twists his ankle doing so, and swears, loudly. Cath leaps to her feet, and starts looking anxiously into the wreckage. Lemuel calls out, \"Brandebras, lad, are you all right?\"

The stranger loooks down, then whispers to the dog. She bolts into the wreckage, and moments later, is dragging the hobbit out of the wreck. Hraefengar, meanwhile, is tugging off his cloak, as if to wrap it about the hobbit despite his own chill. He shivers as the cold air wraps about him, but says no word of complaint.

Brandebras does not protest as the dog drags him out - does not even move. His yellow hat bobs up and down as he is pulled toward the concerned onlookers. He is still breathing, but his eyes are tight shut and there is a bruise on the side of his face. Hit his head on something, likely. He should be grateful for his Ma\'s knitting - likely that thick woolly hat has saved his life.

As Brandebras emerges from the wreckage, a look of fright comes over Lemuel\'s face, and Cath runs over, and bends over the hobbit. After ascertaining that he is breathing all right, she looks up at Lemuel and makes a sign with her hands, tapping them together twice. A look of relief comes over Lemuel\'s face. He looks at the stranger, and says, \"Here, don\'t worry about that - you\'re cold enough already. We\'ll take him home to his Ma. I think that\'s best.\"

Hraefengar nods his head, fumbling with his cloak to get it back on again. His right hand is clumsy with cold and holds the staff, but his left arm seems week, and he has difficulty moving it. Finally he manages to drape it awkwardly over his shoulders, though he cannot manage te brooch. He watches the hobbit for a moment, then lets his head droop.

Lemuel says to Andrick, \"Here, would you mind, we can take him back to ours for now, then I\'ll send for his Ma, and we can get him seen to.\" Andrick mutters something offensive under his breath, but then lifts the hobbit up, and begins to walk away from the marketplace with it.

Lemuel goes into the shop and emerges with a bucket of water, which he pours on the fire, quickly reducing it to a steaming pile of ash. Cath picks up the mugs which lie around the fire, and carries them with her as the trio begin their walk home, after Lemuel has locked the shop.

Before turning away, he holds out his hand once more to Hraefengar, and says, \"Listen, sorry about all this. Tell you what, why don\'t you come with uS? We\'ll put something hot in your belly, and you can warm up a little, and perhaps help us with this young fellow?\"