The Golden Perch Inn

[Rose]

Penstemon’s ears were quite sharp for a woman of her ripened age. And, too, her curiosity had not dimmed with the passing years. While the Big folk passed a few pleasantries, her attention had drifted from her food and drink to the table where the Dwarves sat, and standing near them, Elves.

Three of the Dwarves did not seem all that pleased to be speaking with the nearest of the Fair Folk. But the fourth Dwarf, who did not bear a family sort of resemblance to the others, seemed unphased by the Elf. And in fact was smiling up into the fellow’s face as he spoke.

‘Oh what a treat!’ she said aloud, clapping her hands together. ‘The Dwarves and the Elves,’ she hurriedly explained, her hands fluttering toward the group she’d spied. ‘I believe there will be music tonight.’ Her eyes gleamed as she informed the table of what she’d overheard.

‘Haven’t danced in a month of Sterdays! I hope they play some tunes to set the old feet tapping!’ She grinned widely at Rhys and Tanni. 'Didn't you say you played the fiddle. And you sang?'