[Everdawn]

“No im fine Atharen, I don’t really get hungry very often, besides I ate at my Aunt Lysia’s.” Maén said looking around the inn. It was her won city and yet Maén had never set foot inside the place, though she knew why, her mother would never allow her around places like the Swan, now if she had been born of Lysia, that would have been a different affair.

Maén had watched Atharen’s actions at the bar intently, it was her way of sussing people out, though not only did she watch him, she watched the other patrons in the Inn. Maén was not a typical young woman of Minas Tirith, she was always asking questions when the ‘proper’ ladies held their tongues, Maén always found this odd, it was not like her at all who would willingly converse with the older women and on the odd occasion her brothers and their friends. She had always had a way of putting her finger on the pulse of someone who was diverting around the truth and an uncanny ability to quickly work out problems.

“Ive figured you out a little I think Atharen.” She spoke tapping her anils on the table as she spoke. “Violence and threats are you way of saying hello, and that attempt to cut my throat was just a “hello and how are you doing!” You almost succeeded in greeting that man over at the bar.” she laughed to herself, Atharen just sat there eating, she still couldn’t decipher what he was thinking and it was beginning to make her frustrated. “I am glad your helping me you know, I appreciate it – really. You couldn’t understand what it means to me- to Lysia. Have I ever told you about her?”

Maén thought that some idle chit-chat might make the ranger more approachable. “I love her more than my own mother, she is my uncle’s wife, He was betrayed by Guriel as well. My mother despises her because she thinks that Lysia is a bad influence upon me. I don’t care for being treated like im glass wrapped in cotton-wool as most women are, but you probably have guessed that by now. Anyway, it is Aunt Lysia who is warranting my search, which is generous of her. But it must be done, even if Gondor want to think he doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean?” Atharen spoke.

“Well, that I will disclose to the whole party, otherwise we would be here all day.” Atharen did not seem satisfied, but did not pursue the matter further. Maén ceased tapping her fingernails and clenched her fists indenting upon her palms little half-moon nail imprints.

It was then that she noticed two men watching her at the bar, she roller her eyes and looked the other direction typical man, staring at a woman as though she were a piece of meat They did not even seem to care that she was sitting at a table with another man, let alone that he was a ranger. She was slightly alarmed that the men approached her. “Aren’t you pretty” the older of the two said. big mistake the thought snapped through her mind light lightening to a rod, and in that instant she cast her glass of water upon his face, the other laughed and she glared at him. “And what is your business, Mr Stranger?”

“We are looking for Guriel Il Galoth. We have come far to seek him, for we heard that there are tiding of his whereabouts in Minas Tirith.” The colour (of what was there already there) drained form her face and she sat up straight in her chair with her breathing shallow and fast.

“Well, ive heard he is in Ithilien, Tell me, why are you looking for him?”