[Elora]

Since afternoon had faded into evening, Uien had unfurled yet three more petals of the blossom she was carving. So intent had she been on her work in a quiet corner, that the comings and goings of the inn had passed her by like the tide. Indeed, she had even missed twilight, a fact that Falco Boffin had noted from his own vantage in the common room. Comfortably nestled behind a pint of ale, he had observed Uien carve continuously, fingers deft with her humble belt knife, pausing only to blow a shaving of wood out of the way.

Falco collected himself and his ale from his vantage and crossed the room. He set his mug down on the table top with a hearty thump, causing Uien's head to rise sharply from her work and her hands to still as she determined the nature of the thump. When her gaze settled on Falco, she nodded cautiously and examined him.

"What are you carving," he asked curiously, peering into her hands. She reflexively closed them around her work and then consciously opened them again. Uien set the unfinished flower upon the table top, well away from the small puddle of beer that Falco had deposited there with his arrival.

"'Tis a mallorn flower," she said simply, not expecting the Hobbit to be familiar with it. Falco peered at it, taking it up to turn it about in his hands. Uien folded her belt knife way.

"A mal-lorrn flower," he repeated with careful ennunciation. "Never heard of such a thing."

"They are not common here, except mayhap, at Hobbiton in the gardens of Mayor Samwise Gamgee." It was common knowledge that the Lady had bestowed him with the gift of a mallorn tree when the Fellowship had departed Lothlórien, at least amongst those who had dwelled beneath the golden boughs at the time.

At her naming of the Mayor, Falco ceased his inspection of the carving at peered at her face.

"You know the Mayor?" Uien could understand the note of incredulity in his question. Elf though she was, she hardly appeared to be consorting in such lofty circles. She shook her head, hair swaying as she reclaimed the unfinished carving and stowed it in the pouch at her belt.

"I only know of him, Shirrif." Uien thought she detected a hint of relief in Falco's face. Falco relaxed once again, at his ease. For a moment there, he'd been terribly concerned that somehow he'd gotten off on the wrong foot with someone of import. That would mean his infallible judge of character was not so infallible, an inconceivable notion up until he thought Uien was possibly an associate of the Mayor the Shire. If she had mentioned Peregrin Took, Falco was sure he would have had a fit.

As it was, Uien seemed distracted as she glanced out of the window and noted the darkened sky.

"You will have to excuse me, Shirrif Boffin. It is well past the time I should have seen to the horses for the night and there is still much I need to prepare for departure in the morning."

Falco nodded graciously. "Yes, yes... mustn't delay. When and where shall we meet?" He was being generous, hoping Uien would appreciate his largess in allowing her to choose a time and place for departure to Bree. If she did, she made no show of her gratitude. Instead, and loftily so it seemed to Falco, she deemed a suitable arranagement.

"At sunrise, from the stables, would seem well enough. If you see Lumiel, will you tell her of this?" Falco nodded a little stiffly, put out at her presumption that he, a Shirrif, was also her personal messanger, and directed his attentions to his now much neglected ale.

Uien herself moved through the growing throng of people to reach the door, through which she passed into the growing night as she made for the day pastures to return horses to their stables for the evening. In the quieter evening, Uien's thoughts and emotions could no longer be forcussed and poured into a piece of wood beneath her knife and fingers. They marked her expression, and the horses were greeted by sadden elven grey eyes. Her song, which she sang to them, was muted and melancholy, yet sweet. Singing, head bowed and mind full, Uien walked back and forth between darkened pastures and the stables, transferring horses and ponies into their stalls and seeing to their feed and water for the evening.