[Folwren]

Wren held the kitchen door open so that Ginger could come through, both her hands laden, one with a basket of rolls to replace the one that sat momentarily empty on the table, and another with a plate of cookies. She cast Wren a smile to thank her and the girl grinned back and skipped out before the hobbit to make sure that nothing was in her way when she arrived at the tables laden with food.

When she was relieved of her burden, Ginger turned to Wren, who still fluttered about her, and gave her leave to go and do what she would - the work, at present, was finished. Wren nodded and waved and set off in search of her brother.

She found him shortly and they stopped and surveyed one another. He had been given a clean shirt and he had had the wits to wash his face and comb his hair back from his forehead. As for Wren, Ginger had gone to considerable lengths doing the little girl up. The dress she wore fit her well, and was perfectly pressed, and they had brushed and combed her hair until it shone and then pulled back the top and sides. She didn’t have the tumbling curls that hobbits possessed, but there was a slight wave in her dark hair that couldn’t be called unattractive.

“You look very well, Tim,” Wren said coming up to him.

“Ah, I guess,” Tim replied. As most boys probably are, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about having to dress and look nice. “Where’ve you been all this time?”

“In the kitchen, helping getting everything ready to bring out here and serve. Isn’t it jolly? We’ll have so much fun tonight! Do you suppose Woody and Hanson will be here tonight?”

“Well, that’s his uncle, I think, playing up there,” Tim replied motioning towards Gil and the musicians. “He did say he was his uncle, right?” Wren shrugged, still craning her neck to look and see. Tim bent to her level and putting his hand on top of her head, turned it in the right direction. “And if he’s their uncle, then they might be here tonight, too!”

“Oh, yes, I see!” Wren said with an excited hop. “Come on, come on! Let’s go see if we can find them. P’raps he’ll know if they’re here.” She started off in the direction of the general audience. There were many people about, some dancing, some eating, some talking, and some doing two things at a time. Tim went after his sister and caught her arm.

“We’re not going to interrupt them,” he told her.

“Oh, no, I know. Not at all. But Woody and Hanson will be about somewhere.” And once again she headed off, threading her way easily through the people in search of the two hobbit children she and her brother had met the previous evening. . .