[Imladris]

I listened quietly to Soronume and Elentari converse and wondered what he looked like. Was he man, or elf? Turning to the window, I felt along the smooth glass until I found the latch, then, fumbling a little as I struggled to release it, I pushed the window open. I leaned my head on the sill, my elbows hanging out slightly, and breathed deeply. The musty scent of the wood tickled my nostrils, the faint scent of wildflowers hovered near; I could feel the pattern of the wood against my finger-tips, something crept steadily upon my arm, tickling me as it tiptoed along. The evening was utterly still, peaceful, and calm. I wanted to run, tumble around in the grass and lay still, feeling the grass prickle my back and to listen to the crickets strum. I could hear them still, but only faintly from within the inn.

I wanted to read again, to read the flowing, powerful scripts of Gondor. What I would give to play the tales and lays of generations past upon my lyre again. I clutched convulsively at the wooden sill at the memories…the memories of the loom long forsaken, of the spinning wheel as it made unruly wool into fine thread, the herbs that made the sick well again and cured the wounds of soldiers, of the fire that danced, shedding its lurid light upon the walls, creating fantastic shadows that flickered and jumped ominously.
Flashes of pain came suddenly to my eyes: they were common, but the pain did not grow less. Ever since that day in Gondor, these spells have come to me: maybe my eyes were injured, and this pain was fruit of that injury. My head throbbed, my eyes flamed, and I groaned softly, glad that no one could here. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would come to me and drive the pain away. I dimly remembered that I needed to get a room…

A voice entered into my dreamy thoughts that asked, “" My lord and ladies. Forgive me for interrupting, but you seem to be from Eryn Lasgalen. I am Nedieth and that was my original home. I was wondering if you had any news?" I almost laughed out loud, but managed to stifle it into a snicker. Me, a lady? I wondered if it was a compliment or a sarcastic insult. Certainly Elentari and maybe Soronume, but not me. I was a peasant, a lay girl of Gondor, barely eighteen. I smiled a little and thought the elf sounded rather timid. It must have been a compliment. Turning in her general direction, I smiled at her.