The Golden Perch Inn

[SmallOne]

Amadi didn't need to be asked twice. Setting his pack behind the door and draping his leather coat over it, he shut the door behind him. The kitchen boasted a beautiful array of cookware, with wide open spaces and an oven big enough to broil steaks from a mûmak. And it was very well stocked, Amadi thought, mouth watering as he peered into the pantry. The wealth of goods dried and fresh sent his mind racing through all of the recipes that could be made. And if the rest of the Shire was any indication, this was only a small portion of the inn's food store. He brought himself back to Master Boffin's words with an effort.

"There's no rightful reason why something should 'ave happened to her," the inkeeper was saying. "What I always says is, them as keep out of trouble, stay out of trouble. But it ain't so this time."

Amadi shook his head. "If you pardon me sayin' so, everyone's got troubles. For your cook's sake, I hope it's the kind that she's found to remedy, and not one that's found her."

He looked at the many plates on the table. Even with the loss of their cook, they seemed to have managed well on their own. "Nevermind the tour," he said. "I'll find my way round in here fair enough, and you can show me the rest before I start on supper. Let's get these plates out first. I assume since it's all the same thing no one's special ordered, then?"

Amadi picked up three plates, deftly balancing two on one arm, and pushed through the inner door which he guessed would lead him to to the main area of the inn. He was correct, finding himself in a pleasant, open room with a huge hearth and many smaller tables and chairs. The door swinging to behind him got the attention of several guests, who (especially the hobbits) seemed relieved that food was finally on its way. It wasn't terribly crowded, but there were enough guests to give the room a constant murmur of noise.

He moved toward the nearest occupied table--a booth with three elves seated together. The silver-haired one had turned away from the door to say something to the one across from her, but as she turned and Amadi caught sight of her face, he stopped in his tracks.

Amadi muttered some less than savory Haradric under his breath. "That one? Here?" He couldn't believe his horrible luck. One of the other elves had caught sight of him; he couldn't turn to another table without drawing even more attention, and if he backed into the kitchen, what would he tell Master Boffin? He could put his newfound job in jeopardy. But if she recognized him, and was one of the ones who held a grudge, it might be even worse. It was a terrible dilemma.

Maybe she wouldn't recognize him, he tried to calm himself as he slowly resumed his walk to the table. His arm protectors were covered temporarily by the plates in his hands; if he just dropped off the food and nipped right back into that kitchen for a very long tour maybe she wouldn't remember him. Yes, and perhaps while he was at it he could wish himself a pretty little sailing ship with wings and fly all the way to Gondor.

Stars, had he been born under a luckless sky?

[Loslote]

Idhreniel glanced up as a young man walked towards their table. I thought they had only hobbits as staff here, she thought. She was about to shrug the thought off, however, when she saw the man stop, staring as though seeing a vision of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. His eyes darted from Mithalwen down to the plates in his hands and back again. Far tenser than before, the man started walking again.

Idhreniel raised her eyebrow. There was history there, she was sure of it. Her lips tugged upward in a hint of a smile. She was sure this would be a great amusement to liven up an otherwise altogether too serious trip. She covered her smile with a hand as she thought of ways to draw out any possible shred of entertainment. Glancing at the twins, she thought to herself, I'm sure they would help me with this. They look like the sort who would love this kind of thing. I can help with plotting, and they can take care of the actual interactions. The man was far too new for her to talk to, and far to intimidating. Yes, the twins would be a huge help in this plot.

[Mithalwen]

Mithalwen turned just inclined to get a glimpse of the young man's face as he turned away. She recognized it immediately as being of the lad who had passed the winter at Mithlond and had left there shortly before her own departure.

Her momentary suprise at seeing him was soon rationalised - few roads led out of Mithlond and the Shire was one of the few populated areas on the way to - well anywhere really. She had a fair guess at why he had feigned not to recognise her for she had no doubt that he had done so - their ways had not crossed much but Mithlond was a small enough place these days. It suggested that suspicions had been correct, that the adan had been a little lightfingered as well as charming; that it wasn't just coincidence that more things than usual had gone missing during his time with them.

Nothing particularly valuable had disappeared and circumstances were usually such that the bereft owner could not be certain that there was no other explanation for the disappearance. She herself had mislaid a pair of leather arm guards. Not precious but new from the leatherworkers. She was sure that she had hung them in her forge but she had done so much clearing out and moving around in preparation for the twin's visit that she couldn't be sure she hadn't just misplaced them. So not something she could make a fuss about but it was a little galling since the Elves had been welcoming to the vagbond and she doubted he would have been denied anything he had truly needed. Maybe it was just the way of a different world - that anything not locked up was up for grabs and few in Mithlond would think of locking their doors against neigbour or guest.

If his behaviour was the mark of a guilty conscience well then maybe he deserved to suffer a little. Her face was as deadpan as when she had chastised her nephew and niece as she spoke:

"Master Amadi! What ill have I done you that you refuse to acknowledge our aquaintanceship?"

[SmallOne]

Amadi nearly dropped his plates in response. “Na, If it’s Mithalwen, I didn’t never see y’ther,” he stammered. The Northern accent he’d worked on for nearly a year flew out the window. He tried to hide his fluster as surprise. “Welcome t’ the inn, if ye haven’t been yet.”

It wasn’t as hard to smile as he thought it would be; Amadi really had liked the woodworker. She was kind and seemed more down-to-earth than most of the fae folk. Mithalwen was the only one he’d felt sorry for “borrowing” from, but he could never have let them know why he needed to cover his arms before rejoining the world of men. The marks had meant nothing to them.

Besides, it was only after he’d been escorted out of the Havens that any elf had said anything to him. How was he to know that such little things would matter?

[Mithalwen]

Despite her resolve, Mithalwen found it impossible not to return Amadi's smile. She had a high tolerance for the follies of the young and there was something about the boy that made it easier overlook his misdoing even though his placing the plates on the table revealed the evidence. Should she say something? If she did it would not be now in public. She doubted there was any malice in his scavenging though it seemed a strange thing to take - there was no real value in the arm guards, and there was things in her workshop of much greater value that he might have taken and did not. So there must be a reason but without knowing it she must be a little cautious, hoping above all that nothing would be "mislaid" at the inn or she would be hard pressed to explain why she had kept silent. . To know all is to forgive all she thought but for a moment she half thought she had spoken aloud and this roused her to answer, realising that her companions had started to stare.

"Mr Boffin has not be remiss in his hospitality but another welcome is still...welcome. I must thank you for bringing our meal - I understand they are a bit short staffed - which reminds me ... is there anymore news on the cook?"

[Loslote]

Idhreniel's eyes flitted between Mithalwen and Amadi. She faked a yawn so she could discretely cover her growing smile with a hand. She knew her eyes were crinkling, but hoped the others would be too entertained or involved in the almost confrontation taking place before them. Carefully smoothing her face into something that she hoped showed no sign of mischievious intent, Idhreniel leaned forward to address Mithalwen.

"Do you know this man, Amadi?" she asked, even though it was extraordinarly obvious. She didn't pause for an answer. "Mithalwen, you did not mention you had friends at this Inn. Perhaps he can be of use to the search for the Cook."

She could not quite bring herself to look into his eyes - he was still a stranger. Under normal circumstances she would have let Mithalwen do all the talking, and tried to fade into the background. A chance for amusment, however, could drive her to almost any lengths. Almost. Actually making eye contact and talking to a stranger she would not do.

[Mithalwen]

Know... now that was a loaded word. Yes she knew him in the superficial way that elves knew the few mortals that tarried briefly in their lands, but Mithalwen had been a tiny child when Elendil and his sons reached Lindon from lost Westernesse and a season in mortal lands was such a brief spell for an old elf - could an ancient yew know a spring crocus that brightened the wood for a few weeks before disappearing for ever? It seemed too much effort now to try.

She had known some mortals well, one too well perhaps - but that was at the dawn of the age when she was young and the blood of Numenor strong, and she had seen the White Tree new planted in the court of the King in Minas Anor. Now she had such dealings with mortals as was necessary for trade. Always civil, sometimes affable but did she know them. No. But she must reply more simply.

"We are acquainted. Master Amadi spent the Winter in Mithlond but I did not know he was here til this minute. He must answer for himself if he knows anything of Miss Brandybuck's disappearance". It was a somewhat terse response but it had been a slightly impertinent question.