Willow
Willow got up from her drink, and went to look at Hawthorn's list of party preparations, along with, as it seemed, everyone else in the room.
Her father had disappeared, probably left to get more pipeweed, as he was like.
She read through the list silently, hardly noticing the commotion in the other side of the room regarding Crystal, for Aman was already helping her.
Reading the list, Willow seen that there was little that she could do to help, for she was no cook, and knew little about gardening, or decorating. However, she could play the fiddle, and smiled to herself.
That was one thing that she could do, and she supposed that she could also help with aranging the tables, a simple enough job. She smiled: there were some things that she could do now.
But one thing was certain, she couldn't wait until the party that night. Maybe Ando would be there.
A warm glow spread to her cheeks as she thought about the gold-haired hobbit, though she had been cursing him but moments before.
She smiled again, and set off to find her fiddle, and get it tuned up, and playable by the evening.
"It has been a while since I've played," she said to herself. "But we shall see whether I still can play as I used to."
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