[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman looked up to the sound of the strange and outlandish song. Benia's voice was beautiful, and hearing it was somehow like being in a desert, or having the sun softly warming your face.

As it ended for a moment, the Inn seemed frozen as all were quiet, basking in the silence that comes after every good performance when all take a moment to just revel in what they have just witnessed. Aman sighed, breaking the spell, and looked out the window to see that it was already dark. It seemed such a strange contrast to the warm song from Far Harad, that Aman couldn't help staring, although the skies were clear and the stars shone crisply. She began to collect glasses, going to the table where Benia sat first.

"That was beautiful." She murmered as she passed. The woman looked up, surprised and gratified, and smiled in acknowledgement.

As Aman went back to the bar, she nodded to a newcomer, a dwarf with a mildly put out expression on his face, and a large battleaxe on his back. The dwarf looked up, surprised, but also apparently relieved. Aman smiled inquiringly, but he didnt reply as to his relief, but instead cleared his throat and asked for a drink.

"An ale please...?" He stopped, unsure how to address her.

"My name is Aman. I'm the Innkeeper here." Aman began to clean out the glasses and put them away.

The dwarf didn't hide his surprise. "You are the Innkeeper? But...but this is the Shire."

Aman smiled, it wasn't the first time she had been asked. "The old Innkeeper, Piosenniel, left when she had her twins. I am an old friend of hers."

"Piosenniel...that, erm, that doesn't sound like a hobbit name...?" The dwarf had a small smile hovering around his lips, but also seemed a little nervous, and suddenly Aman felt even more concious of his axe. Aman laughed. "No, she was an elf."

A frown from the dwarf. The battleaxe suddenly looked even more obvious, and Aman wondered whether there was a polite way she could remove it from him. Ah well, lets just go straight for it. She smiled charmingly, smoothly changing the subject. "Will you be staying? If so, are you intending to take off your cloak?"

The dwarf smiled sheepishly. "Oh, oh yes..." He did remove his cloak, but as he took it off, he kept hold of his axe. Bother. Hey, just dive in then... "Would you mind if I took that? We have a policy of no weapons. There are storage units at the door."

The dwarf gripped his axe slightly harder and looked around quickly, scanning the room for an exception to this rule.

"Really, weapons are not allowed." Aman tried not to feel guilty as he hip brushed the sword under the bar and she pushed it in slightly further under. "Please....?"

The dwarf shook his head. "Yes...yes, I suppose so. My name is Theoric, by the way."

They talked for a while, then Aman excused herself, seeing Cami enter. Cook opened the kitchen door, releasing wafts of tasty smelling air, and searched with her eyes for Aman. The Innkeeper nodded, and inclined her head towards the kitchen at Cami. As they entered, Aman breathed in deeply, letting the smells of supper fill her nose, and she realised she still hadn't eaten. Cook seemed to guess and in her matrobly way, placed a deep plate of stew in her hands.

"Come on, Miss Aman, you can eat while we talk. Can't have you skipping meals." Cook tutted.

Aman smiled as she fished in a drawer for a fork. "Would I miss one of your meals, Cook?"

Cook smiled, gratified at this, and took a seat by the stove, warming her hands. Buttercup came in, unsuspecting- she hadn't worked here for as long as Ruby, and therefore didn't know of the washing up which any unsuspecting hobbit could be pulled into, and Cook immediately did pull the little waitress into washing up. Cami also took the other seat by the stove, while Aman contented herself with leaning on the side of the table, stew in hands.