[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: I am so sorry

Aman stood just behind the door, one hand on the handle, ready to turn it as fast as possible. Buttercup was outside the door, positioned at the bar, awaiting the signal. Aman counted to three slowly, then yelled something incomprehensible, or if there were actual words in it, they would certainly be incomprehensible through the door. Buttercup heard this signal and immediately took a deep breath and yelled in her biggest voice across the common room:

"The mathoms display is outside in the stableyard NOW!"

There was a confused moment, then the entire mob of mathom-mad hobbits, curious men and elves, and just about everyone else in the Inn who had managed to get caught in the crowd, all turned as one and charged out the door with the air of a determined balrog crossed with an insane oliphaunt. Aman smiled at this image as she twisted the handle sharply and threw herself out of the room and straight behind the bar, hands over head to protect against the wall of the mob/deranged oli-rog, as she had begun to think of it, the door being slammed shut from behind by Ruby.

After a second in which all of the Inn was quiet, Aman's eyes popped up over the bar and swivelled furtively around. When she was sure the coast was clear, she stood up with all the dignity she could muster, brushing her dress down and smoothing back her hair. Buttercup nodded solemly, trying to suppress her smile. "Nicely done, miss."

"Thankyou, Buttercup. Thanks to my cunning plan and your bravery and faithfullness to it, we have once more evaded the oli-rog." Aman replied with similar solemnity. They shared a look for a moment, then burst out laughing together.

"Aman!"

The righteous, matronly voice cut through their laughter. Buttercup suddenly realised that she had to be very busy going back to sort out the mathoms and Aman was left to face the rage of Vinca Bunce. Never challenge the rage of Vinca Bunce. Aman turned guiltily to see the hobbit standing, hands on hips.

"I don't recall seeing you having lunch."

"I can explain-"

"You can explain that you somehow ate the sandwiches despite the fact that they are still on the table."

"Not...exactly...I was just...." She stopped sheepishly. It seemed to be becoming a habit. "Sorry, Cook."

Cook nodded, still disapproving but somewhat less so. "First Vanwe, then you..."

"Vanwe didn't eat lunch either?"

A look of concerned disapproval for Vanwe replaced the look of matronly disapproval for Aman, and she pursed her lips worriedly. "No indeed. She has been acting rather oddly lately. When I caught her looking around in the pantry and accused her of skipping meals then sneaking around my pantry- my voice was firm, mind, no mistake about that, but it wasn't a really strict firmness, more a...kind firmness-"

Aman nodded vaguely, and decided that it was best not to say anything on that score. Cook continued.

"-and she jumped to the conclusion that I was calling her a thief, and seemed awfully upset about such. I called her nothing of the sort, so you know! But then she churned out some cock and bull story about fetching sheets for you. Behind the honey, I ask you..."

But Aman wasn't listening any more. Vanwe's behaviour had been very odd before, when she had been speaking to Benia- all this 'Mistress' business. And she was so thin, and did seem awfully skittish...

"....and you haven't listened to a word I've said in the past minute, have you now?"

"Hmmm?" Aman turned, snapping back to Cook's words. The hobbit sighed, exasperated, then rolled her eyes and nodded to the kitchen. "Oh, never mind. Are you coming to catch up on lunch then?"

"I-" Aman began to make an excuse, before she heard the sound of voices outside, and in particular one sentence that would chill the blood of someone who had just pulled a very temporary cunning plan. The words, muffled from outside, of:

"Hey, the sale isn't out here!"

Aman turned back to Cook and began to propel them both towards the kitchen quickly. Cook was surprised, but glad that Aman had seen sense. Aman took in the room quickly, and even now saw the first hobbit of the Mob come through the door. She would never make it to the room of mathoms again- she had to take another way. Going quickly into the kitchen, she bypassed the table, laden with sandwiches, and the sink where Vanwe was dutifully finishing her washing up, and went to a panel in the wall. The entire kitchen was panelled with wood, but Aman had found out a few tricks since she came. Pushing on each of the panels in a certain area, just to the right of the large cupboard, she found the one she needed and pulled the panel off to reveal a tunnel into the mathom room.

Cook stared, too shocked to be outraged. Finally, as Aman pulled up a chair and, hitching her skirts up carefully, scrambled into the tunnel, Cook moved back to safer ground, brandishing the sandwiches. "What about your lunch?"

"Later, Cook. Sorry. Vanwe, come on, we have a mathom sale to run." Aman's muffled voice replied. Vanwe glanced apologetically at Cook, dipping her head, then followed Aman though the tunnel. A second later, there was the sound of feet dropping on the floor of the other side, first one pair, then another.

Cook watched them, gobsmacked, then gave a little "oooohh..." sound as she let her breath out. Still disapproving, but a little impressed now, Cook turned, broom in hand to face the mob outside.

"Right, ladies and gentlemen, there will indeed be a mathom sale- five minutes!"