A pleasant voice at Eodwine’s shoulder asked Aman about supper. It belonged to a maiden, but not just any maiden; no mistake, she was Elvish. Eodwine’s eyes went wide as she smiled up at him, a comely blush coming to her exotic face. Everything about her was exotic, not least the hawk on her shoulder, unhooded and unstrapped, that gazed at him pointedly as if saying, Well, where are your manners? He bowed deeply.
“Fair lady, I greet you. Master Eodwine of Rohan at your service.” Her eyes went wide and he feared he had said something wrong, what, he could not imagine, but her smile did not fade. She began to speak when the stableman appeared at the door with a loud invitation for supper.
“That answers your question, does it not, lady? After you.” He asked her name and she identified herself as Waen from Lorien. Now he had all kinds of questions, for he was a student of the War, and the Fellowship had passed through that land.
They were early in line, having been at the bar, and filled their plates full. Waen fed a few pieces of chicken to her hawk, who took care not to stab her fingers with its beak. Smart as Eagles, I suppose, he said to himself.
[ June 02, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]
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