[Mithalwen]

A waggonette drawn by a liver chestnut cob approached the inn from the direction of Woody End. Not a remarkable event in intself save that the passengers the Laicirith twins and the driver their aunt, Mithalwen, returning them to what she had drily referred to as the "scene of their crime". It had been useless to point out that if their aunt had let them explain that they had an arrangement with the inkeeper when she had recaptured the truants, they would not now have needed to have to come and apologise for breaking it. But they had grown used to apologising. Until this morning Mithalwen had silenced with a glance just about any utterances that did not start with "sorry" yet it had seemed to have done little to placate the group of pilgrims they had been travelling with until they had slipped off and made their way to the Golden Perch.

Only as their aunt had prepared to take her leave of the pilgrims, who would remain a little longer at the Woodhall, Carantilion had tentatively explained that they had been meant to be earning their keep at the inn by providing music and that they might have been missed. A tart comment about "letting more people down" was followed by the turn east to Perch rather than westwards towards Lindon. It was not the happiest party. Both twins could still sense their Aunt's wrath and it did not help that they still had not made up their differences.

The elfwoman had found her nephew Carantilion first and his attempts to warn his sister had been foiled by fact that she had ignored his attempts at osanwe kenta thinking he was merely trying to apologise. Since then the twins had been kept under close supervision and had had little opportunity to converse even if they had had the inclination. Carantilion, already haunted by the memory of their father's damning opinion that his children were good-for-nothing wastrels, and the knowledge that their escapade had only confirmed this in the eyes of his aunt and the company they had journeyed with had taken the harshest wound from the righteous anger of his twin. He wasn't used to her being cross with him and had found refuge from his misery only in sleep during their time at Woodhall. Curled up in his cloak he could wander the paths of memory where his sister was a genial companion and usually the leader of the mischief.

He sighed and gazed at Enpauriel who sat beside their aunt on the box seat. Her back gave no indication that her fury had abated and he tried to settle himself more comfortably amongst the many boxes and packages that filled the back of the waggonette. He poked into a couple of them and found various items clearly of his aunt's manufacture - all kinds of stuff made from metal or wood - household items and trinkets. His curiosity got the better of his caution.

"I have all this "stuff" with me because I was on my way to Bree to meet a trader and sell it when I got a message that my beloved nephew and niece had gone missing and would I please come directly and deal with it ... so I turned back and found you and consequently the merchant is unmet and my goods are unsold...and the reason I am selling it was that I needed to clear our space for my visitors - It is amazing how much clutter one accumulates over the yeni... These are oddments and experiments. " Mithalwen was a maker of musical instruments by preference but crafted also whatever of life's more mundane necessaries were required and was particularly skilled in delicate work. "I am not sure what I shall do with them now" . She continued as they reached the inn yard.

Mithalwen handed the girl some coins. "Enpauriel, go and find Mr Boffin and apologise, pay him for the room if he held it and arrange for rooms for us all for tonight and stabling for Bracken - and storage for the trap. Oh but offer him his pick from this lot by way of an apology too" she added inspired by the idea that there were some wooden plates that might make fine serving platters for halflings.

"Carantilion, take Bracken round to the stables but first help me down with this" - she indicated a long but suprisingly light trunk .

"We're staying here?" asked the twins united in thought and voice again at last.

"Why yes, I don't think I am quite ready to go home yet but I couldn't pretend to be shocked, disappointed and outraged a moment longer so I really had to get out of Woodhall".

"So you aren't angry?" The Cirs responded amazed.

"Well I can't say I am pleased exactly ...and while some of your party are very old friends of mine, they do seem to have forgotten what it is to be young. Compared to what your uncle Cirion and I used to get up to it all seems quite harmless - though quite inconsiderate. Besides I want to hear you play" She said having replaced the stern expression fixed since their meeting with a wide grin.

The twins exchanged glances forgetting their quarrel for a moment as they realised that there was some truth in the tales of Mithalwen's wayward past.

"But I will tell you about that some other time - Oh it is so lovely to see you again! When did you get so tall?" she added , embracing her nephew and niece - " Go and do what I have asked and I will order some food and you can tell me why you aren't talking to each other - I can understand why you didn't talk to me but that is harder to fathom."

The twins glanced at each other again and went about their separate errands leaving Mithalwen to enter the inn alone.

It had been near deserted when she had gathered up the Cirs but now there was a whole host of folk- including a ranger and one of her own kindred as well as several hobbits. Something was clearly going on and she drew less attention than she might . She put her trunk down softly by the wall and lingered by the door wary of interrupting something she didn't yet understand.