[Kath]

Cir was bored, and the sidelong glance at her brother confirmed that he was feeling the same way. They were sitting by the fire in the Woodhall, staring into the flames as though they would offer some excitement. For a place exclusive to elves there wasn’t much light-hearted singing or dancing going on, and the twins had even been frowned on for making their own music.

The journey from Rivendell had been spent in a similar quiet, subdued state, unsurprising since they’d been stuck with this group of pilgrims travelling to the palantir of the Emyn Beraid. She could only assume that her parents had thought the experience might calm the two siblings down a little before they reached their aunt’s house in Mithlond. Enhiriel especially had not been pleased when the twins had taken it upon themselves to reorganise the library to what they thought was a better system. It seemed that neither Erestor nor Elrond had not been quite so appreciative of their efforts, and it had been quietly but firmly suggested that perhaps they go out to see the world a little. Their father, Gilthalion had been the one to decide that they should go to visit Mithalwen, certain that she would be able to cope with their boisterous nature.

Cir was beginning to think that their reputation had preceded them, and possibly one that was undeserved, as the pilgrims were keeping such a close eye on them that she wondered if they’d been told that their activities might lead to genuine harm rather than simple annoyance. Their few nights in Bree had been spent under the watchful gaze of at least 4 of the pilgrims at any one time, so they’d had no chance to go and explore, and both were feeling frustrated with the restrictions being placed on them.

Now at least they were being allowed time on their own, but the delights of the Woodhall had faded once every tree and bower had been explored. They had heard from the hobbit Bilbo of his adventures in the halls of King Thranduil in Mirkwood, but to their disappointment the woodland halls of their own people were little more than a glorified campsite, and music or noise of any kind were discouraged during the day when they might be a disturbance to the local inhabitants out and about their business. Only when the stars rose did the music start and might pass as an echo into hobbit dreams.

A sigh from Cir caught her attention.

“Bored?” She asked, knowing the answer, and his nod confirming it. “So let’s get out of here!”

Cir looked at her, a grin slowly appearing on his face.

“Got a plan?” He asked.

“Of course.”

Half an hour later the twins were up a tree, watching the comings and goings at a place called “The Golden Perch”. They had come out of the woods and had simply started walking across the fields in the general direction of the building in the near distance, Cir complimenting her brother on his excellent distraction skills. She never could work out how he got even much older and wiser people to fall for his tales, but she was very appreciative of his talents none the less.

“What do you think?” Asked Cir, ready to go inside and explore but, for once, waiting for his sister to give her opinion.

He had done his part by technically informing one of the older elves that they were going without them fully realising the significance of his words. The secret, he found, was to find someone who was so much more interested in something else and give them a rambling explanation which contained vague references to something worthwhile such as collecting firewood until they said "Yes?” The enquiry was taken as permission and the pair disappeared before their hapless victim could quite work out what they had been thanked for. It had been easier than expected, and now they had reached Woodhall, which pilgrims regarded as home territory. He knew his sister would insist on the final decision, using the prerogative of her extra 20 minutes of age. He also knew she was just as curious as he and was sure she would want to go in. Might as well let her think she has her own way, he thought, easier for me to win next time.

Able to see through the windows, Cir had seen the warm welcome given to every person who had entered since the two of them had hopped up the tree. The hobbit at the bar looked to have an easy-going and kind nature, even seeming comfortable chatting to the elf they had observed sitting at one of the tables. She had also seen what looked very much like a ranger being almost interviewed by two members of the race of Men, and she was itching to get inside and find out what was going on. Cir’s comment in her ear had startled her, not least because it seemed that he was actually going to listen to her opinion.

“I think it looks good.” She replied, lithely dropping from the branch she’d been perched on, closely followed by Cir. When they were full grown the boy would surely be a little taller and broader than his sister and his features a little stronger but for now, clad in similar clothes they were as alike a pair of bookends at first glance certainly - and at second and third too for all but the most observant.

Pausing only to check on the safety of the purse of coins their parents had given them "for emergencies", the two made their way inside carefully, ducking to get through the door with heads still intact. Once in they were able to straighten up again, and took a few moments to just look around. Their experience of hobbits was limited to the brief exposure they’d had to Bilbo, and they’d been told that he was a great exception to normal hobbit behaviour. Those seated round the tables stared at them as they entered, but Cir felt no ill will directed at her or her brother, and smiled at the frank curiosity on many of the faces turned toward them.

Nodding politely to those they passed, the twins made their way up to the counter Cir had seen what appeared to be the Innkeeper standing behind, and waited for him to reappear.