[Aylwen Dreamsong]

The White Horse would have a quiet Farmers Market day, seeing as how most folk were at the busy market. Aylwen felt a tad bad to leave Bêthberry alone at the Inn with only Froma and a few maids for company, but at the same time Aylwen was so glad and excited to have the chance to explore the market. It was new to her and something different to see, for she had rarely gotten the chance to visit the market in Minas Tirith, where she was from. Aylwen had originally planned on going to the market with Talan and Iswyn, but they appeared to have everything ready to be taken care of.

The first stall Aylwen stopped at was a glass blowing stall. Several people stopped as well when they passed by the stall, looking not only at the vases and ornaments already made, but also at the man that was having a demonstration. Aylwen watched, entranced, as the man blew the glass through a large reed-looking pole and watched him add glass powder to the mix. She watched him shape the molten ingredients into a lovely blue-green perfume bottle. Then she moved on, continuing to explore the stalls.

On a few occassions Aylwen thought she saw Talan or Iswyn, but the image was gone in a flash as people moved about the market busily. Aylwen passed by stalls selling mugs and goblets, jewelry and pottery, honey and beeswax products, and much more. Her second full stop was at a stall selling musical instruments from around Middle-Earth. There was even a little section full of panpipes! Aylwen had her own seven-piped set in her wasit pouch, but she picked up several sets of panpipes at the stall. One was two-rowed and tuned lower than usual. Another tenor set of panpipes had twenty-three pipes, and to be played correctly had to be played in a zig-zagged style from top row to bottom row. It was all so interesting, but Aylwen still preferred the panpipes her mother had made for her so long ago.

Aylwen watched one or two children get their faces painted one stall over from the instrument stall, quite intrigued with the accuracy and the designs chosen by the children. There were dragons and intricate leaves and symbols painted onto the small chubby children faces. The painter must've known some form of elvish to some extent, for several children walked away giddily with what looked like elvish on their cheeks.

Aylwen continued until she stopped at a jewelry shop, eyeing the items in turn as they caught her eye. One in particular looked interesting and beautiful to Aylwen; a small bracelet of weaved bronze with a thistle head at either end and a small opening to make it easier to put on. It was lovely and wonderfully made, and the stallkeeper noticed Aylwen's interest and went over to speak with the black-haired young woman at the front of her stall.

"It was made by my son," the woman who owned the stall intoned proudly, gently taking the bracelet from Aylwen's hands. "The story behind it is quite simple. My oldest son is a soldier, and the border of Gondor has been ravaged by orcs and easterlings of late. One night, a raiding party of easterlings was preparing to invade the camp my son was in. However, they crossed a patch of thistles barefoot, and they began to let out their yelps of pain. This alerted the camp, and my son said they were able to fight them off."

"How very interesting...and it is quite beautiful." Aylwen commented, and the woman nodded. Aylwen thought it would make a perfect little gift for Bêthberry, for letting Aylwen come and help at the White Horse and welcoming her so kindly. Aylwen withdrew a few coins and traded with the stallwoman, and walked away as she put the bracelet carefully into her waist pouch.

Her attention was mostly on outting the bracelet away, and Aylwen bumped into two young men who were stationary in front of a shop selling quilts. Aylwen and the two men stumbled, and Aylwen turned around, immediately ready to apologize.

"Forgive me! I was not looking where I was going!" Aylwen blurted out, not even giving the two men a chance to dust themselves off. One of them chuckled, and the other looked at his laughing companion. The chuckling one was dark-haired and had stormy grey eyes. His companion had lighter hair and did not look as confident or boisterous as his friend.

"That's quite alright, lady. At least no one fell to the ground, else they would have been trampled by the folk around here," the dark-haired man replied, his voice friendly and warm. "I am Windheneb, and this quiet man next to me is Castar. And you are...?"

"Aylwen," the young woman replied, her eyes slightly squinted. What an odd pair! Windheneb was quite confident and had an air that nearly sent him over the edge as arrogant or cocky. Castar seemed a tad more reserved, but friendly just the same. Edoras, although smaller than her old home of Minas Tirith, was a lot more thrilling and exciting than home.