[Amanaduial the archer]

As the afternoon turned to evening, many of the mathoms had indeed been eagerly swept up, as Cami had predicted, and the crowds had begun to drift away, although many did so with anxious inquiries as to whether the sale would be on tomorrow. Aman, looking around at the piles of remaining mathoms- diminished but still formidable- then at the hats which sat behind her, almost bursting, and had replied yes, definitely.

Entering the Inn, she saw Vanwe, sitting alone, staring into a cup of water. She first supposed that the girl must have fallen asleep, for a peaceful smile was on her face, and the Innkeeper could not see her eyes in the swift glance she shot at her, so she proceeded into the kitchen. Cami looked up from some potatoes she was chopping and, smiling, nodded to the corner behind her. "Vanwe left in her proceeds for the sale." She explained.

Aman picked up the soft hat which Vanwe had deposited, now as full as her own pair of smaller ones. The Innkeeper could not help beaming; the three hats glinted with bronze, and even some silver, coins.

"Well, it seems that all funds that may have been needed for the naming ceremony are covered," She murmured. Turning to Cook, she raised her voice to its normal level. "Cook, do you know how much wine we have in at the moment?"

Vinca raised an eyebrow, then returned her attention to her potatoes. "I do food, not drink, Miss Aman. You still have your key to the winecellar?"

"Yes, Cook." Aman replied, with a smile- when talking to Cook, she had become accustomed to feeling rather like a forgetful schoolchild. Fumbling with the keys on her belt, she walked out of the kitchen, her head filled with thoughts of the food and drinks for the naming ceremony. With the profit from the mathoms, she would no doubt be able to catch one of the men, or hobbits, who was leaving for Bree tonight- there was bound to be one or two at least. Butterbur may be have been forgetful, and a little doddery, but Eru knows that he had some good contacts for fine wine.

As she opened the door behind the bar to go down to the wine cellar, where the 'fancier stuff', as Cook called it, was kept, she looked up again to see Vanwe still sitting there. Staring longingly into her cup. On her face was an expression of utmost yearning. Puzzled, Aman stopped, peering at Vanwe.

"Vanwe?"

The Innkeeper's voice seemed to shake Vanwe from her reverie, and she jogged forward visibly. Looking up almost guiltily, she seemed startled to see Aman. Puzzled, Aman continued.

"Are you quite alright, Vanwe?"