The Golden Perch Inn

[Mithalwen]

Cir recognised Gable but called her by her true name " Hello Nolwe, quieter since we aren't there I guess - we have been sent away" he added mournfully, remembering sadly the conversation he had overheard between his parents, the one he hadn't even told his sister about. "We are going to stay with our aunt in Mithlond but we have had to travel with some pilgrims to the Emyn Beraid - old people" he added - Gable was younger than the twins and one of the few other young elves at Imladris - until she went away that was .

Overhearing his sister's conversation with Dick he asked "Could we stay long enough for the proper food or should we get back by then? I am fed up with bread and cheese - it seems that that and lembas is all we have had since we left home." He finally tasted his beer and found he liked the taste ...darker than the ale the elves brewed.

[Kath]

Cir had noticed Gable, or Nolwe as she was, arrive but had left her brother to talk with her while she tried to work out whether they had time to eat before they would need to leave if they intended to get back before dark. She was bored of staple foods, and wanted something more interesting, this fish stew for example. She decided that since they were already going to be in trouble for sneaking off, they might as well add to the list of offences, and turned to check with Cir, but found him already speaking to her.

"Could we stay long enough for the proper food or should we get back by then? I am fed up with bread and cheese - it seems that that and lembas is all we have had since we left home."

"I say we stay." She replied, directing her words at both Cir and Dick. "I'd like to try some of this local fish. I remember Mr. Bilbo saying that the Shire had the finest cooks in the world. And while we wait we can talk with you Nolwe, you must tell us all about this place."

[Tevildo]

An hour or two had passed with pleasant conversation and a number of good sized fish hanging from the string that they could bring back to Cook. Tollers was quite pleased with himself and could not have asked for a lovlier afternoon. Jack had proven to be a good fisherman who was quite handy with both the pole and the net.

Now, however, it was getting late. He needed to return immediately and help set the table. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble with Master Dick again. Jumping out from the boat and into the shallow water, Tollers indicated that Jack should do the same and bring the fish along with him. The hobbit dragged his craft up onto the muddy shore, stowed the oars, and secured the vessel with a thick rope that he tied to a low lying bush. Then he walked along the side of the brook, his bare feet splashing in the shallow water for no other reason than the sheer joy of it. It was at this point that his eyes caught an unexpected gleem. He stooped to have a closer look and was surprised to find a small golden disc half buried in the mud, hidden among a thick strand of cat tails. Bending down and scooping up the prize, Tollers extended the object towards his friend.

"Take a look. How strange! I have no idea what this is. Jack, have you ever seen anything like this?"

[Glirdan]

The small figure walked slowly towards the Inn. The sun was just sinking behind him in the West from whence he came, casting pleasent shadows about him. As he walked, a ray of sun hit the sign above the Inn door and temporarily blinded him; for above the door hung a sign, and on the sign was a golden perch. "Hmmm, probably the name of this here Inn," he thought to himself. "Seems pleasent enough, and definetly open to any weary travaller, and I do believe that I qualify under that category." He chuckled deeply at his own joke and proceded towards the Inn.

As he walked closer towards the Inn, he noticed that the building was built into the hill behind it. "What facinating creatures these Hobbits are! They are as ingenious as us Dwarves! How I would like to meet one of them and learn more about their culture."

He walked up to the low circular door and entered into the Common Room. He looked around and took stock of his position: the fireplace made of stone ("I wonder what the blacksmiths here are like?"), the bar and counter to his right. He noted that there were people sitting about.

He walked up to the counter and took a seat. The Hobbit behind the counter was rather short ("I wonder if all Hobbits are this short?" for he had never seen a Hobbit, even on his way across the Shire for he had avoided all the bigger villages, hoping to pass through them on his back home later on in time.) but he seemed to be a merry fellow.

"Hi there!" he called out. "Could I get some ale? I heard rumour that it's supposed to be the best in this beautiful country. By the way, I'm Kár, Kár Oakenarrow."

[Envinyatar]

Jack laid the string of fish down on the grassy part of the bank as Tollers held out the gold disc. His eyes gleamed at the sight of it. Taking it gently from his companion’s fingers, he turned it this way and that in the westering light.

‘Well, isn’t this just something, Tollers!’ He held the disc up in the air, letting it catch the light. ‘You’ve found a real gold coin here!’ Jack bit on the coin, affirming, so he told Tollers, that it was gold for sure. ‘It’s an old one, too. Look here, you can hardly make out what picture is on it.’ He rubbed it with his sleeve’s edge and held it up for a closer look. ‘Can’t tell about this side, but look here,’ he said flipping it over. ‘Does this sort of look like a hammer of some sort?’

[Folwren]

Dorlind scooted right up next to Taffy and peered expectantly over his arm as he watched the knife carve away little shavings of wood. As he watched, his little mind turned over what Dorlind had said.

“Is he really going to tell you a story?” he asked after a long silence had lasted between the two of them.

“He said he would,” Taffy replied.

“I’ll be brave enough. Papi tells us all sorts of stories sometimes when he comes home. He knows lots. But he doesn’t tell about dragons very much. Mostly, they have animals that can talk. Papi’s a good story teller! I’ll like to hear about dragons. I’m brave enough, sure.” A short, doubtful pause. “You don’t think it’ll be too scary?”

There was a pause. Taffy carefully shaped the wood, bending over it as it took a gentle curve. Dorlind bent and craned his neck to see. In a moment, Taffy seemed to have gotten over a difficult part and he straightened back up and answered.

[Mithalwen]

Cir was astonished to look up from his sip of beer and find that Nolwe had vanished. He had heard his sister ask her to tell them about the Shire - but she had just gone. His face fell again. Noone liked them who knew them it seemed. He hoped their aunt would give them a chance or what would become of them?

The overheard conversation reverberated in his mind again.

His mother's voice soft, hopeful, " Maybe this visit to Mithalwen will be the making of them .. she is musical too - and she was restless in her youth..."

"But she always had her craft, she begged Cirion and me to teach her everything we knew from the day she was big enough to hold a hammer or a plane but they are near full grown and good for nothing as yet......of course they were spoiled but I despair ...."

They couldn't go home yet that was certain and they had little money - at least not at their disposal - Cir knew his father had handed a more substantial purse to the leader of the pilgims to cover any major expenses on their journey and to go towards their keep at Mithlond - and what was worse no means of making any. For the first time he regretted his laziness.

His father was one of the best smiths remaining in Middle Earth yet Cir would struggle to make a horseshoe. His mother was more studious in nature and worked in the library of Imladris as well as being a poet of some reknown - but she also had the more practical skills of a bookbinder. He wondered if there was anything they could do to make money. They were musical that was true and it was the only time the twins uncanny bond was usually appreciated by others. But they had no instruments. His father was right he was good for nothing. And suddenly as unhappy as he had ever been in his life, Carantilion Laicirith took yet another deep draught of beer.

[Celuien]

Shadows played on the grass in front of Primrose as the breeze set the leaves above her into motion. She took a deep breath, savoring the freshness of the air, and catching a hint of the cookery in the kitchen. The thought of dinner made her mouth water, and she took another sip of tea.

Though her leg still ached, the pain had dropped to a faint twinge that bothered Primrose only if she moved. She leaned against the bench, resting her back against the weathered wood, and closed her eyes. In a moment, she fell asleep to the sound of birds singing in the trees.

[Kath]

Cir had been surprised when Nolwe had wandered off without a word, but had quickly forgotten the seeming oversight as she watched her brother staring into his drink as though it held the secrets of the world. She had been a little worried about him ever since they'd left home, he hadn't been his usual cheeky self and had to be prodded into anything and everything. She hadn't pushed him to tell her what was going on, she knew he'd come out with it eventually, but she was still concerned about him, doing everything she could to get him out of his shell.

Removing the money purse from his unresponsive hand she rifled through the contents quickly, trying to make some calculations. She knew they had enough money for a good few meals yet, even after this fish stew, but not much else. Looking at Cir again she decided that what he needed was a couple of days away from the pilgrims in a place where they weren't known and could be themselves without recriminations.

Decision made she called to the Innkeeper, who had left them to deal with a Dwarf that had just entered, the fact that her brother hadn't even noticed the new arrival making her confident that she was doing the right thing.

"Dick," she began, choosing her words carefully, "my brother and I are travelling but the group we are with is taking a few days rest before we continue. They are pilgrims, and not lively enough for our tastes. This Inn, though, seems like a fine place to stay a while. We have some money and are happy to pay for everything we eat and drink, but if we do that we would not have enough to pay for a room. I don't wish to be rude but might it be possible for us to make a deal? Cir and I have some skill with music and would be happy to earn our keep by entertaining your other patrons, if you are agreeable to that?"

[Folwren]

"Hi there!" a new voice called out. "Could I get some ale? I heard rumor that it's supposed to be the best in this beautiful country. By the way, I'm Kár - Kár Oakenarrow."

Dick turned away from the female Cir and walked towards the newcomer. It was another dwarf.

“Good afternoon, sir!” he said. “You certainly can get some ale. A pint, sir? Some of the golden brew?” Kár agreed and Dick quickly served him. “Welcome, Kár Oakenarrow,” he said, as he gave it to him. “I guess you’ll find out for yourself if it is the best ale this way. I think it is, but of course any chap who owns a place will say that. Find yourself a place to sit and make yourself comfortable. Shortly, we’ll have fish stew ready to serve. Over yonder are three of your kind.” He nodded towards Skirvir, Bívor and Bávor. “P’raps you know each other? If not, you could also make a new acquaintance.”

Kár looked over towards the three dwarves and Dick smiled encouragingly. “If you’re wanting any food now to break whatever fast you’ve held on the road, then we can get you something but-”

He was interrupted as one of the elves called him. He nodded to the dwarf. “Go find a seat,” he said again. “If you want anything, call me, or find one of the servers. . .” As he turned again to face Cir and Cir he cast a glance around. No server was in sight. He gave an inward sigh before giving all his attention to Cir, the girl one.

"Dick," she began, choosing her words carefully, "my brother and I are traveling but the group we are with is taking a few days rest before we continue. They are pilgrims, and not lively enough for our tastes. This Inn, though, seems like a fine place to stay a while. We have some money and are happy to pay for everything we eat and drink, but if we do that we would not have enough to pay for a room. I don't wish to be rude but might it be possible for us to make a deal? Cir and I have some skill with music and would be happy to earn our keep by entertaining your other patrons, if you are agreeable to that?"

For a moment, Dick made no immediate response. He turned her idea over in his head and then his eyes brightened. “What sort of music are you and your brother capable of?” he asked, almost eagerly. “We haven’t had a bit of lively music in this place for some time. It would be an excellent way to pass the evening! I think that’s doable. How long do you intend on staying?”

[Folwren]

Dick’s eyes shone as Cir talked about the music. “Oh, we might find other fellows who play some music. I don’t think any of our instruments will fit you, but in accompaniment with some others, you’d make great music. Our songs are simple to what you’re used to, no doubt. Go find yourselves seats for now, though. Supper’s nearly ready to be served.”

He hurried away into the kitchen to see just how near dinner was. Passed him as he drew near the door and Dick made way.

“Hollo, Tollers! How was the catch? Never mind - deal with what you’ve got, then you can come bak to tell me.” He patted him on the shoulder as they passed each other and Tollers continued on out towards the Common Room and Dick went into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, his nostrils twitching.

“What’s that I smell?” he asked, half eagerly half doubtfully. “Not mushrooms!”

“Mushrooms it is!” Cela told him from the stove. Dick hurried to her side. His mouth watered as he looked at the frying pan full of sizzling mushrooms. “Keep your nose out of it, Master Dick. I’ll let you know when they’re done.”

Dick grinned and went away obediently. “Hello, Jack,” he said to the man standing awkwardly by the kitchen table. “How was fishing?”

[Undómë]

Rowan pursed her lips and drew in a deep breath. It was true, she and Meliot could spend a good amount of time trying to figure out just where they thought that X might be, but it wouldn’t necessarily bring them any closer to the treasure.

And just get your head out of the clouds on that! she chided herself. You don’t even know that X means a treasure at all!! The old saw of not counting chickens before the eggs were hatched flashed through her thoughts.

‘But there’s no saying it isn’t a treasure, though, either,’ she murmured aloud. She looked over at her friend, realizing her comment must have made no sense.

‘What we need to do is try to chat that Jack fellow up. See if he can give us any clue about the map. Of course without actually referring to this particular map.’ Rowan shook her head, wondering how that might be done. ‘But in order to do that, we’ve first got to get the map back to his room. He might get suspicious if he can’t find it after we’ve talked about maps and such to him. Or....maybe, just maybe he’s the sort we can flatter a bit and he’d actually show us the map.’

As they sat talking and thinking, Rowan became aware that the angle of the sun had changed. ‘Blast it! I’ll be in for it now! Supper’s ready, I’m sure. And what with Prim unable to help out, they’ll be wanting me in the kitchen and common room even as we speak.’ She stood up and straightened out her apron, brushing down the wrinkles.

‘You know, most, or really I should say all, will be in the common room for the evening meal. I’m sure Jack will, too.’ She folded the map up carefully, taking one last look at it to fix it in her mind's eye; then handed it back to her friend as she motioned for Meliot to follow her back into the inn. ‘Maybe you could sneak back to his room and put the map back.....whattaya say?’

[Envinyatar]

Jack awkwardly shifted from foot to foot in the busy atmosphere of the kitchen. Tollers had gone off and left him wondering if he should offer to help or just go out to the common room and sit down. He thought he might like to help out, it would make Tollers’ duties go more quickly, but he eyed the cook as she moved about the kitchen fixing this and that and wondered if she would even allow him to touch a plate or bowl again. He clenched his hands and unclenched them, willing the ten fingers not to be so clumsy.

Just as he cleared his throat and was about to ask her, the innkeeper sailed into the kitchen. ‘Hello, Jack,’ he said. ‘How was fishing?’

‘That Tollers is some fisherman!’ Jack returned, his face lighting up at the sight of Master Boffin. ‘He found us a good spot. And as you can see we brought back plenty of trout for supper. Along with a nice basket of mushrooms!’ He paused, not quite sure how to voice his offer. ‘Say,’ he plunged on, gesturing about the busy kitchen. ‘I noticed you’re a little short on help. Just Mistress Brandybuck for the cooking and Tollers for the serving. Think there might be something I could do...to lend a hand?’

[Arry]

Will scuttled about the kitchen, trying to keep out of the way of the others. He was somewhat hungry, needing just a little something to take the edge off. And something he could carry easily with his one good arm.

He got one of the small baskets used for gathering eggs from the hens and lined it with a clean kitchen towel. Some thick slices of bread from the counter, a small wedge of crumbly cheese from a cupboard, three apples from just inside the pantry. He had a pitcher of water back in the stable, that would be drink enough for this evening.

Grabbing the half-filled basket securely by the handle he made his way back out the kitchen door, intending to hurry back to his little room. His eye caught the still sleeping form of Primrose as she dozed on the wooden bench. Setting down the basket he reached in and pulled out one of the apples, polishing it up a bit on his shirt. He placed it on her lap, near one of her hands.

With a quick step, then, he was off with his own little supper to the company of the horses, ponies, and the goat.

[Lilly]

Taffy had assured the younger boy that the tale of the dragon would indeed be scary. Or at least he hoped so. Whatever good would a story of dragons be if it were not the sort that sent chills up your back.

‘But all you have to remember is,’ he told Dorlind, ‘it’s just a story and a long done one if I understood him right.’

He’d finished the two little whistles by the time he heard his mother call him and Seren in. They had three little holes each, and on Dorlind’s he had carved the outline of a little bird and on Daisy’s, a flower to match her name. ‘That way she can’t take yours if she’s lost her own and say it’s hers.’ He looked at Seren as she came running toward the porch. ‘Girls can be quite sneaky you know,’ he said to Dorlind, handing him the whistles. ‘And fathers always seem to side with them!’ He nodded his head in a knowing way at his friend. ‘Anyways, we’ve got to go in now and have supper.’

Taffy stood up and took his sister by the hand. As they hurried to the door he called back over his shoulder. ‘See you after the meal’s done!’

[Folwren]

“I noticed you’re a little short on help,” Jack said. “Just Mistress Brandybuck for the cooking and Tollers for the serving. Think there might be something I could do...to lend a hand?’

“Help? Oh, yes, I’m sure you could,” Dick replied, his face brightening. This Jack fellow wasn’t quite so rough and useless as his appearance had first made him seem. What was more, he was not so bad looking, cleaned up and put into some clean clothes. “We’ve got lots of customers here today,” he continued, “and Rowan just seems to have disappeared. She’ll be back shortly, no doubt. But, until then, why don’t you run out to the Common Room with me and we’ll see what needs to be done. Before hand, though, we’ve better settle if this will be done for payment for your room. I am quite willing for that to be, but if you would rather be paid in coin and then pay that right back to me for the keep, then so be it. What do you say?”

Dorlind

Dorlind stood studying the two whistles that Taffy had pressed into his little hands. They were beautiful things, he thought. And the two separate carvings on the side made so much sense.

“What’ve you got, Dorly?” asked his sister, coming up to his side. Her little friend had gone in with her brother, Taffy, and she stood, catching her breath after the game of chaise. “Where’d you get those?”

“Taffy made them for us! One for you, and one for me. See, yours has a flower on it.” He handed hers to her. “And this one, with the bird on it, is mine. We’re not going to get them mixed up that way.”

“Sure, Dorlind!” Daisy said, taking her little present with delight. “Taffy made these for us!”

“Yes, and he was also making something else and while he was there carving, a dwarf came up and said he would tell him a story about a dragon and Dorlind says it will be scary and he said I could listen to it! But he had to go in and eat supper and we should go in, too.”

Acting as Taffy had done, he took his sisters hand and led her towards the door. Daisy bounced along at his side, looking at her whistle and talking as she went. “A dwarf talked to him! I wish it’d been me! He’s going to tell a story? Can I listen Dorlind, can I, can I?”

They were coming into the common room now. Dolrind stopped just inside the door and looked over at her. “No, Daisy, you couldn’t listen! You’d be scared. Taffy says that it will be scary and whenever you get scared you always have to sleep with Mami and Papi and then I’m all by myself and I don’t know like that.”

“That’s just cause you get scared,” Daisy returned, sticking out her tongue.

“I do not!” Dorlind said, dropping her hand and stepping away. “You take that back!”

“I don’t have to ‘cause it’s true!”

Dorlind gave an angry shout and lunged towards her. Daisy let out a loud squeal somewhere between glee and fright and darted away, leading the chaise around the room. She dodged between tables, and under them a-times, and Dorlind went right after her, nearly catching her many times. Daisy popped up under one table, turned her head to see where Dorlind was, her feet still going, and suddenly –

“Oomph!” Daisy ejaculated as she ran straight into the side of a chair. Dorlind skidded to a stop three paces behind her, gasping and staring. Daisy turned her head and looked up. Her eyes became wide and her mouth opened. Looking down at her was an unfamiliar face of a red bearded dwarf.

[Noinkling]

Thunk!

Small as she was, the little girl knocked into his chair with a great deal of momentum. And large as he was, Skirvir could not help but turn to find the source of the commotion. His eyes at first saw no one, save a youngish lad standing and staring at him a few paces away. The Dwarf looked down, then, and found two bright brown eyes staring up at him.

Skirvir raised his brow and with one great hand reached down and grabbed up the wide-eyed child, sitting her down on the tabletop. ‘Someone’s let the pups loose!’ he chuckled, looking from the girl to the boy and back again.’

‘Is this how the greeting of newcomers is done here in the western lands?’ he asked.

‘Commendably bold,’ answered Bávor, nodding his head as if he’d given it his approval. ‘And certainly attention getting,’ added Bívor. ‘Though I thank my lucky hammer that it was only one of the younger, smaller folk that wished to give us such a welcome.’

‘And what might be your name, little missy?’ Skirvir asked, turning his attention back to the girl. He stroked his long red beard in a considering manner. ‘And you, little master,’ he went on, looking over toward the boy, ‘have you come to give greeting, also?’

Beneath their bushy eyebrows, the eyes of the Dwarves danced with amusement.

[Forest Elf]

Gable felt ignored, she had asked if there was any help needed and there they go on and ignore her. Gable thought back to earlier that day, when she heard Primrose cry out for help. Before that, Will had been patching the roof, but now, he can’t from his sprained wrist.

That’s it! Gable thought to herself. I can finish patching the roof! She walked outside, and over to the stables. She would finish patching the roof, she wanted to and who knows what can happen while on a roof, when supper is just being started.

Gable righted the ladder and balanced it. She started up it, noticing the fifth wrung hung loose on its spot in the ladder, she skipped it, and reached for the one over it, and stepped over it.

She was on the roof, the wind blowing her hair. Now she knew she could, so long as no one came looking for her, or saw her. She started patching the roof, and when she got to a spot on the roof, close to the edge, she tore the shingling off, and heard them land.

She put up more shingles and after the third, she reached over to grab another shingle, but couldn’t. Gable looked at her sleeve and blinked. She couldn’t believe it, already the third shingle and she had made a mistake! She had nailed her sleeve to the roof under the shingle, and the nails were too tight to just take them back out again.

Gable turned to call out for help, instead she slipped and her sleeve was the only thing holding her onto the roof. Gable grabbed onto her sleeve, like a rope now that it’s tightened as she dangled from the roof, her lower arm on the roof, and her elbow bent at the edge of it. Gable shouted, “Help! Please, someone help me!”

[Dimturiel]

Meliot agreed reluctantly to Rowan's proposal. The last thing she wanted was to talk to that person, and the thought of having to go again into his room made her shiver. Yet she hid her feelings from her friend. She had no choice now but to put the map back. Therefore, she made for Jack's room. She stood a long time listening at the door, until she finally convinced herself that the room was empty.

Meliot cautiously opened the door and looked inside. Indeed, no one was there. She entered the room, and put the map back where she had found it. She sighed with relief when that was done. "Come to think of it, you're no better than your brothers." she said to herself."Always sneaking around, searching for trouble. You should be ashamed of yourself, Meliot."

But it was too late now for any feeling of remorse for her behaviour. For one thing, she had to get out of there. She walked out, closing the door behind her, and ran all the way down the corridor to the common room, to meet Rowan.

[Celuien]

Afternoon naps were always pleasant. They were all the more pleasant when they ended with a surprise. Primrose awoke, looked around, and smiled. A shiny red apple lay next to her hand. No one was nearby, but she thought she could guess who had brought her the treat. Will. Primrose reached for her crutches and peeked into the kitchen window. He wasn't there. Her eyes drifted toward the stable, and she hopped towards the door, leaning on her crutches. As she came up to the door, she looked up to the roof and spotted Gable. Primrose shook her head. Climbing to the roof wasn't the best idea. Two accidents were enough for one day. But she held her tongue and went into the stable.

A moment later, she wished she hadn't kept silent. Before she even had a chance to say "Will", a clatter on the roof announced yet another mishap. Primrose whirled as quickly as she could with her crutches and looked back outside to find Gable dangling from the roof and shouting.

"Hold on there, lass! Don't fall. We've had enough of that today." Balancing on a single crutch, she pushed the ladder closer to Gable. "Steady your feet on the ladder. It's just next to your foot."

[Lilly]

Seren’s eyes were big as saucers as her little fist closed round one of the Dwarf’s fingers and hefted herself up to her feet. She regained her composure quickly, though, recalling the words he had used in greeting. Her chubby little fists were planted firmly on her hips and she cocked her head back, one eye considering him; her lips set in a disapproving pout.

‘Hey you! I’m not a sprout!’ she said in as forceful a way as her five year old self could muster.

Taffy sighed as he brushed off the knees of his pants and stood up straight. ‘My little sister,’ he said to Skirvir, as if those two words explained everything. ‘Seren,’ he went on, turning back to his sister. ‘This is the fellow who does carvings, too. Master Skirvir is his name, not “hey you”.’ He bent down closer to her. ‘Mind your manners or I’ll tell ma,’ he whispered.

[Noinkling]

The fiery response from the little girl tickled Skirvir no end. One of his older brothers had been graced with the birth of a daughter, a little spitfire much like Taffy’s sister. Skirvir bit back a chuckle, despite the fact that he found this display of her personality so pleasing. He was wise enough to know she would bristle again if she felt he were laughing at her.

‘Little mistress – Seren,’ he said, allowing a serious tone in his voice and a slight bow. ‘Your pardon; I did not mean to be rude. You will forgive me, I hope?’ He turned to Taffy, a renewed smile curving up just above his bushy beard. ‘What say we sit out on the porch a bit; I’m sure the innkeeper would lend us a lantern to hang from the eaves. It’s quieter out there, better for storytelling.’

He glanced up from the two young Halflings and saw another, older Halfling woman looking at them in a concerned manner. ‘Is that your mother?’ he asked the two children. ‘Perhaps we should go ask her permission.’

[piosenniel]

‘Haven’t danced in a month of Sterdays!’ the wizened old Hobbit had exclaimed. Her eyes sparkled in the light of the little candle lantern that hung above their table. ‘I hope they play some tunes to set the old feet tapping!’ Granny Greenhill grinned widely at Rhys and Tanni. 'Didn't you say you played the fiddle? And you sang?'

‘’Deed we do, Miz Penstemon!’ Rhys answered, buttering up a slice of bread. ‘Your honey, right?’ he went on spooning up a generous helping of amber colored honey from the pot Tanni had pushed near him.

‘He’ll be busy jamming his mouth full of sweets, Granny,’ Tanni said, laughing. ‘So to answer your question more fully – we do play and sing. It’s one of the pleasurable sides to our business of traveling about to find wares for our family’s livelihood….gathering up the sounds and rhythms of the places we go to.’ She pushed her empty bowl away and took a small sip of wine. ‘What about you Master Hithadan? Do you sing or play an instrument? Or are you a dancer, like Granny Greenhill?’ She raised a brow expectantly at him, a tinge of mischief playing at the corner of her smile.

[Lilly]

Taffy could see his mother motioning him to come quickly. Her hand was waving in a no-nonsense manner at both him and his sister. ‘Now just what are you doing bothering that man?’ Lilly asked her two children when they stood before her.

‘He’s here with his friends,’ Madoc continued, stepping up by his wife. ‘Relaxing, I’d bet after a day on the road.’

‘And I’m sure he does not want to be entertaining two young’uns such as yourselves,’ Lilly put in.

‘But Mami!’ protested Seren, speaking up before her parents could ssay another word. ‘He does want to ‘tain us! Don’t you?’ she added, turning to look at the Dwarf as he approached.

[Mithalwen]

‘Pardon, Cir….. and Cir…..may I bring you something to drink before you play and sing?’

Carantilion was still somewhat mournful, having heard too well the dwarvish comments despite his best attempts at courtesy. He had heard the stories of bitterness and strife of course but being a Noldo of Imladris, the refuge founded after his people had been driven from Eregion, he had also heard many stories first hand of how there had been a time when the they had worked in harmony with the Dwarves of Moria. Now they would have to prove that harmony of another kind was possible. In the mean time his sister had explained to Rowan that they had not yet eaten and were eager to try the provender before settling to their music making.

Finally Cir brightened. He had a fondness for mushrooms equal to a hobbit and the prospect of butter fried mushrooms and toast was balm to his gloomy spirits and resigning himself to whatever their fate might be when they rejoined the company of pilgrims he decided he might as well enjoy an evening of music making unrestrained by the conventions and hierachy of the Hall of Fire. Having waited for his siter to place their order for mushrooms, fish and a couple more tankards of the delicious ale, he ventured to ask of Rowan.

"Mr Boffin mentioned that the Inn had instruments but they might be too small, since we only have a whistle flute with us, do you think we might take a look and see if it would be possible. We can manage without but it would be better with... "

[Undómë]

‘Let me just ask Will where those instruments might be,’ returned Rowan. ‘He should know, as he sometimes get some of the fellows round here together to play and sing.’ She fetched a couple of large mugs of ale for the two Elves; then went to get the food they’d ordered. On her way to the kitchen, she stopped at Will and Prim’s table for a few quick questions on where she and the Elves might find the instruments the innkeeper had spoken of.

Rowan put the bowls of stew before Cir and his sister, along with two plates on which they could pile their mushrooms and their bread. In the middle of the table she placed a heaping plate of fried mushrooms and a basket of fresh, thick sliced bread. Butter, blackberry jam, and honey stood attendant on the Elves’ whims.

‘Once you’re done eating,’ she told them, ‘you can go through that door there, just to the side of the fireplace. The third door on the left is a small storeroom we tend to shove things into that only get used now and then. Will thinks the plain wooden chest where the extra band things are kept is against the far wall of the storeroom. It has an old birdcage on it, and a rather ratty looking fringed shawl we once used as a table runner for some gathering. Go ahead and poke about; find what you need. You can call me to help if you need to.’

She paused and gave a critical eye to the fare upon the table. ‘Now is there anything else you’ll be needing?’