[Bêthberry]

Light from lanterns and candles and fireplaces flickered out from the latticed windows of The White Horse and illuminated patches of the ground almost in time to the music that emanated from the Horse. Cheers and voices and laughter competed with the sounds of flute and harp as well. Bethberry could almost imagine the sign of the Horse swaying in time with the entertainment. She could not see any sign of the nightwatchman she and Aylwen had hired, but for the time being she satisfied herself with the thought that Osric could well be making his rounds on the other side of the Inn. She stabled her horse quickly and quietly, the ostler himself likely having dinner with his family or seeing the bairns to bed.

Lifting the heavy iron latch, Bethberry swung the front door open and stepped inside, her eyes temporarily blinded by the light and her senses overcome by the heady aromas and warm air of the inn. No one had as yet caught sight of her, so she quietly strode in, leaving her bags near the front desk, by her old room which now was Aywlen's room. Maercwen caught sight of her and nearly called aloud, but Bethberry, with a grin, but her finger to her lips and cautioned silence. She gave the girl a hug and whispered to her that it was good to be back and then walked calmly into the Great Hall with a tankard in her hand.

"What's this covering of the same song over and over?" she asked with mock sterness, as she caught the eye of new bards. The older children ran to her, crying out her name and jumping up on her nearly as if she was a tree to climb.

"Hold your horse, Deman and Fierlan," she laughed as she gave each a tight hug and a ruffling of their hair. "It's a good thing I at least am still steady on my feet."

Osric the old warrior harrumped at this and attempted to rise to welcome her whereas Lianda, Umwë, Eodwine and Korik seemed to reel around each other and stared at her blinkingly. It could not be denied that the sound of a belch or two punctuated the welcome.