Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and the characters therein is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Author's Notes at the end of the chapter
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She turned away from the hobbits' table, trying to ignore how suspiciously quiet they had become when she had served them. Strange folk, those hobbits. She was pulled from her thoughts as another table called demands for food, and other things, and she scurried into the smoky, hot kitchen with a red face.
A piece of bread and ladle-full of glazed vegetables was put on each of a row of plates before she asked the cook for portions of the lamb that turned slowly over a low- burning fire. Scooping up two plates in each hand, she slipped through the door, recruiting a fellow maid into bringing out the rest of the table's order. In the main room, one of the hobbits she had served was dancing on a table, leading the crowd with a song she'd never heard. She ignored the catchy tune and shouted requests "for a dance, lassy!" and set the plates down before the men who'd requested them.
After this she went about gathering dirty dishes to be taken back for cleaning. A couple of the men grabbed at her wrist when she reached for their tumblers, saying they weren't finished drinking. Ye smell right abou' finish'd, she thought to herself at those times, and was grateful that she was free of laundry duties this week. Finally, she came to a corner where the dim light of the lanterns didn't fully reach, and lowered her eyes away from the dark man as she snatched away his empty tankard. He was one of those rangers, she had heard, a man called Strider. He scared her truly, with that hood that darkened his face, and his quiet nature, reminding her of the tavern's cats as they poised to strike at mice. She gave him a thin smile, one he didn't return, before stiffly making her way into the brightness of the main room.
There was a sudden clamor of noise; the hobbit had fallen off the table. Still shaken, she went on to the kitchen with her load of dirty dishes, uninterested in traveler's antics. Strange folk, those hobbits.
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A plot bunny nibbled on my ear, so I wrote this short bit. Not much, just looking at the lives of everyday people of Middle Earth as their lives come into contact, even in the slightest way, with main characters of the story. Note how she doesn't even have a name. Perhaps I shall write more like this…perhaps not.