Emberwood shouldered open the door to the gaol, careful to not spill any of the food she'd gotten from the mess hall. Her poor father had to leave his supper to help break up the terrific row that happened at The Prancing Pony earlier that evening. It had been several hours and she knew his belly was as empty as the drunk tank at the gaol was currently full.
I miss all the fun. I bet it was exciting! Da'?" She set the basket down on the table. She could hear men muttering and swearing in the main holding cell and women crying in the smaller one.
Two human women were sitting on the bunk, their arms around each other's shoulders, loudly having a weepy conversation.
"Right in his smug face! The dark haired woman was slurring."Boom! The arm on you! Legendary! And that other prick, too, the one that grabbed you. I could kick both their Elven asses! Drunk! I could do it drunk!"
"I know you could!" the redhead said, her voice wailing with sobs. "You kicked that one guy right in the balls for me. You're my best friend!"
"You're my best friend!" the dark woman howled, sniffing loudly. "I'd do it again! I'll kick everyone's ass in that place!"
"I know you would! I love you so much!"
"I know! I love you too!"
Emberwood walked over to the cell. "Were you two in that fight at the Pony?" she asked, awestruck.
A slurring male voice drifted over from the main cell. "They fookin' started it, lassie!"
Emberwood's mouth dropped open. These girls were some hardened adventurers if they were breaking up taverns so bad the Watch had to be called. "Really? Wow!"
The redhead sniffed, rubbing the bruise on her cheek. "It's a long story," she muttered. "They hiring little hobbit girls for the Watch now? You a Bounder?"
"No," Emberwood admitted. "Not yet. My Da's a Shirriff. I'm bringing him supper."
"Oh. The dark-haired woman nodded.
"But I'm learning how to fight, though," she said quickly, feeling a desire to appear as something other than a young country Hobbit to these tough and interesting women. "I'm pretty good at it."
The redhead smiled. "Well, little hobbit girl that knows how to fight, we sure coulda used your help a little while ago. What's your name?"
"Emberwood Hayward," she said, her cheeks flushing.
"I'm Aubren, and this is Rhusty." Aubren gave Emberwood a friendly squint. I've heard that Shirriff Hayward has a kid named Emberwood. I didn't expect..."
"My Da' wanted a boy," Emberwood said sheepishly, trying desperately to hide her delirious pleasure that this woman had heard of her.
"Well, we're friends now, you know," Rhusty said, her cheeks beginning to turn a sickly shade of green-grey behind the cinnamon sprinkling of her freckles. "We girls that don't take any shit need to stick..."
Aubren deftly kicked the chamber pot out from beside the bunk and Rhusty fell forward, depositing several mugs of Blind Troll Stout and half a bowl of watered-down stew into it with a loud, ripping barf. She was breathing hard, trying to control her gorge. "...together," she gasped.
Emberwood agreed, pumping her fist in the air. "Hell yeah, we do!"
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