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‘Please, allow me to fetch us some tea, Miz Rushybanks.’ Tavaro made his way to the tables where the food and drink had been set out and scavenged about for a pot that was still warm. Luck was with him as he managed to find a small pot with a cozy on it and the contents still fairly hot. There were no eggs left, but he managed a plate of toast and a pot of butter and one of strawberry jam.
‘Here we go,’ he said, returning to the table with his treasures. ‘I didn’t see sugar or honey or any cream for that matter, so we’ll have to make do with just plain tea.’ He poured a mug for the Hobbit and refreshed his own. ‘I thought you might be hungry, and hoped this might just take the edge off it.’ He pushed the toast toward her followed by the butter and jam.
‘I take it you know this fellow they are talking to, this Mungo. He does look a bit on the rough side. But he’s been quite cooperative from what I could see and hear. A little plain in his facts, though.’ He took a sip of his tea. ‘From what I understand, he’s not got anything to do with Mistress Cela’s disappearance, but it does seem he was out and about much of last night and did happen to see and hear something which might have some bearing on where she’s gone.’
Tavaro watched as Miribelle nibbled at a piece of toast and sipped at her own mug of tea. ‘I heard you say it was a wonder he hadn’t been outlawed from these parts. And I was wondering, what exactly you meant by that.’
A movement in blues and greys at the entryway caught his attention as he waited for the Hobbit to explain. Someone new had come in, an Elven lady. She hesitated for the moment at the door, her attention on the commotion in the common room. Tavaro wondered what had brought her to this little inn. She had brought in her own trunk, he noted; she seemed to be traveling alone. How unusual.
He turned his attention back to his tablemate. She had finished her bit of toast and had leaned in a little toward him, speaking in a low voice about the Hobbit in question. Mungo, it seemed, was a very interesting character and a notorious one it seemed in these parts. Tavaro topped off Miribelle’s mug of tea and encouraged her to go on.
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