[Bêthberry]

Bêthberry, her arm draped over her long lost twin brother Iadarion's shoulder--or was it she who was long lost? who knew what that right interpretation was?-- had caught Aman's eye and noted the merriment in it at the orc's slavering over Lush. He really did not realise that here was, absolutely without question, a True Anti-Archetype, if only they could have interpreted her right. But there you have it. Orcs always doomed to be wrong.

And Bethberry had been so very pleased to see Witchie appear even at the eleventh hour of the party, so to speak. She moved to make room for Witchie so everyone could see the wonderful fireworks. Later she would offer her song of praise and thanks to the Barrow Wight but for now she was happy to enjoy the memory of the experience if not the analysis of SaucepanMan's wonderful ditties. And, yes, Bethberry did recognise the originals there, but she was a tad confused as to whether she remembered them at the time of Saucy's rendition or in restrospect. She gave up as she did not wish to break the spell of the moment. or the encorsellant.

It was difficult to appreciate the fireworks, however, much she wanted to recognise Others here, for she found herself rather too close to the firey balrog Mr. Hedgethistle, whose light and fire quite flared at times and out shone the fireworks themselves, expertly prepared by Piosenniel, Ancalimon and HerenIstarion. She coughed to clear her throat and raised her hands to cover her eyes as she turned to towards the flashing space of nothingness with the booming voice. She wondered what he might have to say to her, a denisen of Middle earth almost as old as he.