[Nurumaiel]

"Lovely!" Maercwen cried as the song ended. "Songs of heroes and battle are fine, but 'tis sweet to hear a pleasant tune of the simpler things of life that more of us know. Yes, it is something grand when thrill after thrill goes through you as you listen to tales of valour and courage but a merry, light-hearted tune that touches a sympathetic chord in the heart of a lass such as I who has never seen battle is a happy tune indeed! To weep over the courage and strength of those who rode into battle is sweet, yes, but it is also sweet to laugh over simple little things that sometimes are the loveliest of all."

"And true, kind maid," Osric said softly. "Many a time in the midst of battle I have longed to return to those simpler things of life that bring such gentle, kindly joy."

Liornung was studying Hearpwine's instrument with a keen interest. "You have some talent with your harp," he said, his voice thoughtful and pondering. Shifting in his chair a bit, he continued to stare at the harp, something evidently on his mind. "You know, I do believe you are quite skilled with it. You are not yet a master, 'tis true, but if you continue to play all the time you quickly will be."

"Encouraging words," said Hearpwine, "from you, master of the fiddle."

"I've heard it said I have talent with that which I play, and I do not deny it," Liornung replied, "but I do not say I am a master." He scowled when he saw the twinkle in Hearpwine's eyes. "Does that little light gleaming in your eye betray you, or is that some trick to hide what you really think?" He tossed his head haughtily. "No matter for I am going to sing a song now to please Maercwen. I would," he said, directing his words to his niece, "sing you a merry song of my own make, for you mustn't think I can already write about dreary battle and sad love songs. I have seen happy things in my wanderings as well. But looking into your lovely eyes now I recall a day fourteen years ago when I played a little tune for you on my fiddle reputed to be from the Land of Halflings and you sang most sweetly, telling me you were quite certain that Halflings were not mere children's stories. I wanted to believe you but I was no longer a child who could easily believe such tales, yet I was proved wrong in past years. So, ltitle Mae, in honor of that occasion and in your own sweet honor, I sing for you a song of Hobbits....."

I'll tell my ma when I go home
the boys won't leave the girls alone.
They pulled my hair and they stole my comb
but that's all right 'till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty,
she is the bell of Bywater city,
she is courting one, two, three,
please won't you tell me who is he?

And through the whole song he sang, and at the words a fair blush came to Maercwen's cheeks and she sang along with him, their voices blending kindly together and showing no objection to it. And when the words were finished Liornung played the song on his fiddle through 'till the end, filled with delight at the smile on his niece's face. His only regret at that moment was that the rest of his nieces and nephews were not also there listening. But, if he knew them at all, the rest of them be there soon, all nine from Maercwen's younger brother to the little baby... as long as Hearpwine did mind being surrounded by children, there would be no happier man in Rohan when the rest of the children came. Of that Liornung was sure, and he told himself so most positively as he played the final note and brought the song to a close.