[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman bound up quickly, turning to Snaveling with her mouth open. The man did not turn. Approaching him slowly, she put one hand on his shoulder from behind. He did not stiffen, as the 'old' Snaveling would have done, but turned his face very slightly towards her.

"Well, why not?"

"Snaveling, you cannot! King Elessar...Snaveling, you obviously will have heard of the fall of men, am I right?"

He nodded slowly. "Somewhat..."

"Somewhat?!" she barked incredulously in reply. "Snaveling, you are descended from them that caused that - those that caused Numenor to sink into the sea and caused Men to fall from the favour of the Valar. Elessar...Elessar is practically sworn to kill you. And I'm sure I shouldn't like that very much," she added, smiling slightly. Snaveling only gave a small smile though, and when he turned, his face was still solemn and bore a thoughtful expression that the Innkeeper rather disliked.

"But my people...we were above his..." he replied slowly.

"You drove them into hiding, Snaveling! And yet you will go and ask him for land? For recognition? Oh, please, don't be...foolish!" Her voice was becoming more desperate now. But something flashed in Snaveling's eyes at this, some resentment or anger, and for a long, awful moment, the Innkeeper thought he would make some regal comment, remand her and make her bow before him...

But Snaveling was not stupid, and neither was he unkind and ungrateful. He still honoured Aman's kindness and, yes, her friendship. He sighed, the flash dying in his eyes, and turned to look out of the window again. It was a beautiful view, always one of Aman's favourites: the land on which the Green Dragon sat fell away in a smooth slope downwards to this side, meaning Aman's private rooms - her private parlour and room - were allowed a surprisingly farseeing view across the Shire. Of course, they were on the ground floor, so the view did not go as far as it might have done otherwise, but this window was wider than many. The ground was lower outside the Inn than inside it by about a foot, and so the Innkeeper was also afforded privacy when in her rooms: she could look out of the wide window and not be disturbed by people looking back. Suddenly, she was struck anew by how lovely and isolated the Shire was, untouched for all the strange folk that strayed through it. Turning to Snaveling, she held out a hand. "Come, I want to show you something, Snaveling."

He looked puzzled and even a little hurt. "Aman I...well, what about-"

"This is relevant, Snaveling. Well, sort of..." she added, wrinkling her nose, then became more serious. "Please?"

The Man looked a little bemused and shrugged. "If you think so, Aman..."

The Innkeeper grinned back and exited the parlour. Looking around guiltily, she noted that Brendan wasn't there - just as well, she wasn't sure how to explain. Wasn't sure she really needed to, actually, but still. Nodding back to Snaveling, she marched briskly across the Common Room and up the stairs, keeping a fair pace as the kept going up until she had reached the attic. Taking the stepladder with practised ease, she then looked back down at Snaveling as he followed more slowly. As he reached the top, he looked ready to ask for an explanation, but the Innkeeper held up a hand. "Ah ah...you'll see."

"You're being very enigmatic about this," he replied with an ironical eyebrow. She grinned back. "Yes, and probably a little childish. But please, Snaveling, I...I think you should see this," she ended carefully. Walking to the pretty round window, she deftly undid the latch and swung it open. Then, using the edge of the bed as a platform...she swung her legs out onto the ledge.

Snaveling gave a small sound of exclamation that made her look back, her feet dangling in mid-air, her hair whipped gently by the wind. He looked slightly horrified and certainly very confused now as he took an involuntary step towards her. "Aman, that doesn't look-"

"Oh, stop that. Anyway, you'd better watch how I'm doing this - you'll need to get up as well." Still sitting, she drew her feet up to her chest on the ledge and, after a silent count of three, stood, one hand on each side of the sill. The Innkeeper had done this enough times for her skirt not to get in the way significantly any more, but she was, of course, still very careful. Three stories was a long way to fall by anyone's measure. But the Innkeeper was not some dainty lady of leisure from the high circles of society in Minas Tirith: Amanaduial was something far more than that.

Turning carefully, swapping her feet over in their positions so she was facing the other way, the top window ledge coming up to her waist, she leant back, her fingers finding the easy notches some distance above the ledge that made it so easy for her to get up and placed one leg on the top ledge. With a smooth effort, she pulled herself up, moving one hand up to grasp the edge of the roof and shifting her other leg onto the top of the ledge as well, so her waist was now roughly level with the roof. After that, it was fairly easy to get onto the sloping roof, swinging herself up and sliding around.

Looking down, she called softly to Snaveling. "Snaveling, come up. It's lovely here - it's a place that's special to me. Come...look at the view, the Shire, Hobbiton, Bree...by challenging Elessar, you challenge all this. Look at my view..."