[Mithalwen]

Angharad wasn't so ill or misled by the hobbit's dialect not to understand the offer. She had not quite believed that there really were halflings, people no bigger than herself but grown up, and not just in stories, until they had started their journey across the Shire. Now she was seeing one up close and she was fascinated enough to forget her head felt muzzy and her limbs ached.

Her mother had often said how clever and wise the Elves were but Rowan had caused Hobbits soar to far far above them in Angharad's estimation. Rowan understood about Isildur. Not like those elves who no matter how kind they tried to be were always making silly offers to replace his lost ear, as if he were a thing not a person - her constant companion all the days of her life.

"Ammë?", Angharad looked up at her mother for approval and seeing her nod, the girl squirmed down to the floor and attempted her best curtsey in response to Rowan's. A wobble or two later she straightened up and was more or less on the same level as the hobbit.

"'Sildur would like some milkanhoney" she said a little thickly "an..me too, please" her bright blue eyes looked hopefully into Rowan's hazel ones.

Elin looked fondly at her daughter, glad that she had remembered some of her manners as well as her Westron. "Well done, Annie, why don't you go and choose where we are going to sit?". She waited a moment for her daughter to focus on what she decided would be the best available table then thanked Rowan.

"You have made a great impression there, Miss Rowan, - any friend of Isildur's is a friend of Annie's. Isildur is the rabbit " she elaborated, remembering how the name had been a joke of her brother's that stuck, "after the king of old. Annie is my daughter and I am Elin". She felt instinctively that this was not a place for the formality of full names and knew that Angharad sounded harder and almost unlovely to speakers of the Common tongue while her own was simply just too long.

"Milk and honey would be perfect for Annie, but if it isn't too much trouble, might I have some tea?" she asked, keeping at least half an eye on the child who was clearly delighted to discover that a hobbit-sized chair fitted her perfectly and was installed in one as if it were a throne. Her felt rabbit lying now across her lap, her little hands grasped the chair arms as she waited for her mother to join her.