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Dick heard the timid elf’s ‘Sir?’ but when he turned to face her, he could hear little else above the hubbub and noise of the inn. “Laud, miss, you’ll ‘ave to speak louder in these parts,” Dick said, craning his ear upwards. “Try again.”
The poor, self-conscious elf did so, bending down a little towards his ear. “Could you tell me, please, if any elves from Rivendell are here?”
Dick stood down from tip-toes and scratched his head. He looked around the common room. There were elves enough, but were they from Rivendell?
“Mithalwen there is, I think,” Dick said, nodding towards the matronly elf in the corner. “And her niece and Nephew, Cir, are, too. They’re outside still.” He stopped, hearing a rap on the door. “Who would be a-knocking on an inn door, I wonder?” he asked, beginning to walk away to answer it. “Forgive me, I’ll be just a second!”
He came to the door and opened it. When he did, he found himself looking at someone’s belt. He looked up into the face of another elf. Her eyes were shut and one hand held a carved staff.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked.
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