Iswyn grinned from where she sat at a small table in the inn's Great Hall, her feet were tired and her face was smudged with garden dirt, but her eyes were riveted on a nearly empty pan on the table in front of her. Hissing and blowing on it, the girl picked the last scraps of the baked apple and barley out of the pan, eating them with her fingers. Iswyn had snatched the nearly empty pan from the kitchen after Froma had finished transferring the larger part of the dessert to an elaborate serving bowl.
Another girl about her age scurried past intent on something, and Iswyn's eyes follwed her with interest. When she passed again, Iswyn called to her. "Hey," Iswyn waved a hand in the air, geturing toward the seat beside her. The girl slid into the seat Iswyn had indicated, and Iswyn cheerfully pushed the pan of crumbs toward her, chattering all along. "I'm Iswyn, I work here, with Froma in the kitchen. Mostly I do dishes and clean and such, but sometimes I do the garden with Miz Bethberry... what's your name?"
The other girl spoke from around a mouthful of apple. "Delia, I just came to work here." Iswyn grinned, the news could not be more delightful. Scooping another bit of apples into her mouth she pushed her sleeves back up above her elbows and stood up.
"Gorgo sheckif Roma," she swallowed hard. "Gotta go check if Froma needs me to do anything." Leaving the slightly wide-eyed girl behind her, Iswyn scampered back to the kitchen, delighted to find the party in full swing.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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