[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman rushed in from outside, closing the back door quickly behind her, holding her cloak hood over her head with the other hand. Leaning against it, she tipped her head back against the smooth, polished wood and sighed, maybe from relief, letting her now sodden hood fall down onto her shoulders, her hair, left down this morning, unwinding freely with it.

She had sat it the barn for a goos half an hour, having slipped out with the excuse that she was looking for Derufin. In the high, dark, cool space of the rafters, the young woman was free to think with only the rain as a backdrop to her thoughts. She needed time alone sometimes, and her mind had had plenty to feed on. Hurt, stress, anxiety...these turbulent emotions had been embedding themselves in her brain for several days, until she thought they would threaten to take over entirely. Falowik's news over Eodwine had been a surprise, both welcome and unwelcome to the Innkeeper - now they had a lead on the trail of her kinsman, something she was infinitely grateful for, but something nagged at her mind:

Why had Falowik not said something before?

The thought worried her, no doubt, but she hadn't said anything. After all, Uien seemed truly happy, and the grimy, suspicious newcomer that had been Falowik had settled into a glowing, quite charming young man, and so all in that quarter was well. But still...

And their quest. What if it should fail? What if an ambush should take them by surprise, causing Aman to lose several good friends, including Uien herself and Lira? What if they didn't find Eodwine, or...no, Aman resolved she would not finish that thought. The rohirrim messenger was a fighter, one of her people to his bones, to his mind, to his soul; he would not have gone down. Of that she was almost sure. But still the unfinished, unanswered questions came from all sides...

And there was Pio. Gracious Vala above, there was Pio. So strong was Aman's wish to live up to what her glowing, organised, excellent friend had been to this Inn, so fervent was her wish to show her predecessor she was doing it right...but now Buttercup's comment, unwittingly insulting, not meant for Aman's ears came back to her from the previous day, the hobbit's whisper so fresh in her mind that the waitress seemed to be sitting on the rafter beside her:

‘Runs a tight ship, that one does . . . and everyone hops when she says to . . . Backbone of the Inn in my opinion . . .’

Aman smiled bitterly. Not talking of Aman, of course. Never would be, with a description like that...

Still, the quarters for Pio, Mithadan, and their as yet unnamed twins were looking every more splendid with each passing evening in which Aman would look into them. Ah the twins...Aman remembered with a fond smile the expressions of awe and wonder and puzzlement on their tiny, perfect faces, their amazement at the world and everything in it, and the smile of perfect love and the tears of happiness on Pio's face as she looked down at her babies, holding them at first as if she would never, ever let go of the precious, perfect, living gems she had given life to. As she had looked up at Mithadan, Aman remembered the love and wonder which they had shared, and the way he had come to her side, a smile creasing his usually stern face.

The love and wonder which they had shared...the thought brought Aman onto that thought, that feeling, that tenative realisation which had kept her going, its smooth, flowing song sweeping through the dischords of worry in her mind. In her mind, another face replaced Pio and Mithadan's, a younger one, grinning ruefully as he rubbed his head with a hand, yet from the end of his pale skinned chin to his tousled hair, and from side to side of his grinning, handsome face, this face seemed, in a different way, in that instance, to be every bit as perfect as Pio's twins...

The realisation of what she felt hit Aman once more as she sighed again, her damp hair warm against her neck as she still leaned against the kitchen cum back door of the Inn. The realisation which had come to couples throughout millenia and would continue into the mists of time, that Uien and Falowik felt, that Pio and Mithadan felt, that she felt towards -

"Penny for your thoughts, Aman?"

The voice shook the Innkeeper and she almost visibly jumped, her eyes snapping open as she looked quickly forwards, straightening up. Her green, startled eyes met the amused gaze of...Beren.

Flushing deeply, Aman hoped her colour could be put down to the rain, and she recovered as best as she could. "I...well..Pio!" She grasped this straw. "Yes, I was just thinking about how, um, how Pio and Mithadan, and the twins, you know, how they would, um..." she stopped herself, almost clicking hr fingers in frustration. So busy was she trying to hide her thougts, she had forgotten even to wish to poor boy good morning. Closing her eyes, she laughed quietly for a second, then opened them to see Beren was laughing also. Inclining her head, smiling ruefully, Aman started again. "Good morning, Beren."

"The same to you, Aman," the gardener replied, still grinning mischieviously. They hesitated for a second, before both beginning to speak at once.

"Will you-?"
"Can I-?"
"Oh, sorry, you first."
"No, really, I insist."
"It doesn't matter, I was just..." Aman motioned past Beren, through the door, and the gardener started in sudden realisation.

"Oh! I'm sorry I-"

"Forget it." Aman's voice was softer, calming, and she smiled at Beren again. This time he blushed, and in his case it could not be put down to the rain. Smiling back, slightly flustered, Beren stepped aside to let Aman float into the Common Room, where she barely even noticed Ruby, Buttercup, and Derufin studiously minding their own business...