The Golden Perch Inn

[Mithalwen]

Mithalwen who had been at the point of putting pen to paper paused. "You're right Idhreniel! Of course! That would be the obvious place to start but I got the impression that once they had wind of the letter they followed that lead and then the sighting. If her belongings are missing it might show if she planned to leave and for how long. If nothing is missing then it is more likely some accident has befallen her. I don't know if she was in the habit of taking an early morning walk but it seems unlikely if they are looking first further afield" . She paused, deep in thought again.

"There aren't many places to walk near here though" Mithalwen continued, sketching a simple but fairly accurate map. Stock is really an island in a marsh. The cross country track to the Southfarthing goes through Woody End and there is a lane back of it to the hamlet of Wood Hall but otherwise there isn't much on that for many miles. We came from Woodhall and didn't see anything odd - not that there is much odd about seeing a hobbitwoman walking the paths of the Shire. " She added wryly.

"Then there is the Causeway." The elf added the north south route to her plan and marked where its course joined that of the river at Bucklebury Ferry. " The bridge is much nearer than the Ferry if she wanted to cross the river and much easier. I wonder if she was really in that boat - I thought most hobbits hated them and water in general. I am beginning to think therereally is more to this than some simple mishap else I think she would have been found already, but if we can find out about her room then we might be a little further on". She paused and idly doodled a garland of leaves along the edge of the paper. "We can ask maybe whoever brings us our food maybe or try to catch Mr Boffin". With that Mithalwen laid down her pencil and picked up her wine.

[Loslote]

Idhreniel sat down again to wait for the server. She was happy to help find the Cook, of course, but she dearly hoped they would have a place to start. She just couldn't justify a mindless search when she already had an obligation to deliver the message. Still, perhaps they would pass near Mithlond, and she could deliver the message anyway. The other elves were going there, too. Perhaps Mithalwen would want to leave the twins there, in safety. That would certainly ease her guilt.

Idhreniel looked over the heads of the other people in the Inn, searching for the server. Hopefully, he could show them to the Cook's chambers so they could begin this search.

[Kath]

Cir started as Mithalwen put her pencil down with a clunk and flushed guiltily. Her brother sent her a sideways glance that was at once amused and knowing. Mithalwen might not have noticed Cir sliding sideways in her seat, sending a sly foot under the table toward the mysterious case on the far side to try and lift the lid, but her nosy brother had.

"See anything?" He mouthed at her, and she shook her head in frustration. She had barely managed to get a toe under the rim before her aunt and their companion finished speaking. It was fortunate for her that the long years spent learning to take in enough of whatever she was supposed to be listening to whilst actually doing something else entirely had paid off, as it meant she had something to fall back on when Mithalwen turned to her with a question.

"Did you learn anything about the situation while you were in the kitchen? Is there anyone we could ask about the state of the cook's room?"

"I'm not sure." Cir replied, not missing a beat. "There were a couple of girls in there earlier, but they seemed run off their feet and didn't look to have any more of an idea where their cook had gone than anyone else. Still it might be worth checking with one of them. Should I go?"

[Mithalwen]

Mithalwen thought "I don't suppose it would do any harm - but they may be busy about our meal. At least we would know something definite . It may all be a storm in a teacup - and I hope it is so... we may be at leisure but Idhreniel has a message to deliver and well I must think of something to do with all the goods I didn't get to sell at Bree. Don't really want to take them back to Mithlond. Maybe there will be a market or something locally. I meant to ask Mr Boffin but this business is clearly occupying all his mind. " The older elf sighed and sipped again at her wine.

"It may be all we can do in the end is to alert the travelling companies to be on the look out but we will see. I can't believe a hobbit can disappear without a trace...." they were too solid for that she thought to herself. "

[Loslote]

Idhreniel watched Cir hurry into the kitchen. She hid a smile under her hand. The younger elf was good at fooling her aunt, but Idhreniel knew all the tricks. She'd learned them from her sister, Merkawen. Her smile faded, and she lowered her hand. Cir reminded her of the sister she'd lost. Idhreniel mentally shook herself. She had more important things to do than wallow in self-pity.

"Cir," she called after the elf, " if you can find someone there who looks like they know what they're doing, ask if we can look in the Cook's rooms." Idhreniel doubted that Cir had been paying enough attention to know what to do, but she also doubted that Cir would admit as much to her aunt. If they could get away with not paying attention, after all, most young elves wouldn't. Idhreniel herself had rarely heeded her elders when she was young. She felt a growing fondness for the elf, but turned back to Mithalwen. The Cook was more important right now.

[Mithalwen]

It was not that Carantilion did not care about the Cook's disappearance - he was quite happy to go looking for her - though he did not fancy the chances of he and his sister being allowed to do so unsupervised at the moment - exploration was always interesting. It was all this theorising and waiting for information he couldn't be bothered with, especially when it seemed to be getting in the way of a meal.

Breakfast seemed long distant - and a rather subdued affair - the atmosphere of displeasure expressed by their erstwhile travel companions had killed his appetite but now with his Aunt having forgiven, and seemingly forgotten their truancy he felt very hungry indeed. His sister's attempt to open Mithalwen's trunk while it was unlocked had piqued his curiousity about the promised presents. He really hoped his aunt would remember before she dragged them off around the countryside. He stared at the box speculatively. As he lifted
his gaze he noticed the smile leave Idhreniel's face and wondered what was the cause of her sorrow.

[SmallOne]

Amadi ambled down a quiet back street of Stock, whistling a nameless tune as his bare feet kicked up the dust of the road. He was almost out of the Shire now, and very sorry to be leaving it so soon--this little detour was his last hurrah before finding the bridge over the Brandywine and into the great unknown of the Northern world. He'd enjoyed this odd, quiet little country with its equally odd little residents. It was all dusty roads and soft rolling hills with their cozy underground cottages. The local folk were pleasant and unhurried, polite even to one of the "Big Folk", as they called him, odd as he was. The very air gave him a sense of profound peace, as if he could go to sleep any moment and not worry for tomorrow, never mind he'd spent his last copper that morning.

He broke off whistling and ran a callused hand through his dark cropped hair, gazing up at the unbroken blue sky. It wasn't a real problem, not yet, anyway. He was a decent hunter and a better forager, so as long as there were woodlands, he wouldn't starve. But sooner or later he would need boots--even his deck-hardened feet couldn't take the rocks of the mountain passes--and warmer clothes. What he needed was a job. But the chances of finding something temporary in such a small town were slim.

He shrugged, and started whistling again. It would work itself out somehow; it always did. At the moment he was more interested in the "finest beer in Eastfarthing", which he was determined to sample, by any means possible. He amused himself for a few minutes thinking of ways to sneak into a hobbit cellar--it was hard in this country for one of his stature to sneak anywhere, and the mild-mannered hobbits were surprisingly protective of their foodstuffs. Take that fellow back in Bywater. No sense of humor whatsoever, that one.

Amadi stopped as he saw the inn. To his surprise, it looked to be a fair-sized establishment, complete with a stable and vegetable garden. A large part of the building stood outside of the hill, and judging from the round windows peeping out of the verge, there was even more space inside. He grinned, hopes rising. If it was this big of a place, perhaps they would need some help, after all.

Amadi bypassed the front door altogether and stepped neatly over the garden's fence, careful not to crush the herbs and vegetables growing there. He stuck his head in the half-open kitchen door, rapping on the door frame and putting on his most winning smile.

"Hello! Could anyone here use a cook?"