Carantilion realised that his sister, having led the way into the inn was going to let him do the talking... which was a little unfortunate because the hobbit landlord's friendly greeting had reminded him that he would have to use the Westron for the first time in some while. He had not been the most attentive student and in recent years, since the twins misadventures had started to be regarded as borderline delinquency rather than youthful high spirits, they had been given little chance to mingle with the non-elvish visitors to Rivendell.
The boy was slightly mesmerised by the sight of the hobbit. He looked rather like the Mr Baggins he remembered with his merry round face and brown curly hair but he seemed much shorter (Cir had forgotten that he had grown well over a foot since Bilbo's visit ).
After a slightly too long pause as he gathered his thoughts and words and spoke at last "I would like something to drink, please". The Landlord chuckled to himself, told the young elf he was in the right place and asked him to be more specific, what did he normally drink?
Encouraged , the boy became more verbose - "water, wine, sometimes mead, perry or ale " he said hoping he had got the words right. "We had miruvor once but I don't want anything like that again" he added making a face and remembering a disatrous raid on the Rivendell stills.
"Mirrorwater ?, what is that? ", asked Dick puzzled.
"I don't know the word in your tongue but it burns the throat and gives a headache" answered the elf ruefully.
The hobbit chuckled again - "Ah firewater... well we have that and most of the other things you named but what we are known for is our beer - but not all ladies care for it" he added with a glance at the elfmaid.
"That isn't a lady - that's my sister" said Cir cheerfully " and if you tell her she won't like something because she is a girl, she will want it - so two beers please as long as we have enough money?" he finished anxiously showing the hobbit the assortment of coins from the little leather pouch.
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