[Amanaduial the archer]

It's amazing how much can be seen from not very far up: you do not have to pass through the clouds with the eyes of an eagle to see an entire world. Another night had passed without rain in the run of good weather, and the neat hills and lazily sprawling fields were visible for impossible miles, vivid emerald with occasional splashes of azure lakes or ponds. Above the sleepy, slouched figure of the Green Dragon Inn, birds sang, and one, an amiably scrawny little sparrow, had perched on the edge of the roof some ten minutes ago, preening itself busily. It took little notice of it's spectator, sprawled motionless on her back some two feet away, her bright green eyes shaded lazily against the sun with one raised arm.

Aman was happier than any windlord as she lay there in the warmth of the morning, dress and light brown hair spread out around her figure as if she was suspended underwater, eyes halfclosed as she watched the little sparrow with the backdrop of the Shire. Her domain. She smiled secretively. A land where the Big Folk had been banned for years, and yet it had become her home.

The sparrow paused suddenly and turned it's head at an almost 180 degree angle, it's whole being seeming to perk up. Cocking it's head on one side, bright eyes like ebony hatpins, it regarded the Innkeeper for a second, then flew away, the scrawny herald to the nobly clad figure whose head appeared on the roof a second later. Aman sat up, but didn't turn her head, a smile creeping across her elfin features.

"Good morning, Snaveling," she said, her voice one with the soft, warm morning breeze. "I see you remembered the way up."

Snaveling gave an ungentlemanly snort as he hefted himself up onto the roof's ledge. "Nearly broke my neck, more like..." he muttered, edging his way with care across to Aman. The Innkeeper allowed her smile to turn into a lazy grin which she flashed at him as he sat down beside her before turning back to the view.

"You found me."

"Of course," he replied instantly, smiling back. Then it wavered and he frowned in mock seriousness and cast a hand around. "Can't you find a less…” the man’s words failed. Aman looked across at him through half closed eyes then drew his eyes outwards again. “Less what? Snaveling, from here…from here, I can see my entire world.”

“Your world? Surely you cannot see as far as Rohan from this roof!” Snaveling jested, peering outwards as if he would be able to see to Eriador all the way to the rooftop of the White Horse and beyond. Aman shook her head. “Nay, Master Snaveling: the ‘Dragon is my home now, my home and my world.”

Even a lonely one.

The Innkeeper could feel the man watching her and hung her head slightly. She knew what had to be said. Looking up then across at Snaveling, her lazily sun-warmed expression became slightly more serious. “Snaveling, I must…I must apologise for my behaviour yesterday. I was…I suppose I just…” She stopped, unsure of how to end the sentence. “Well. I apologise, anyway, if you will accept it.”

Giving him a small smile, the Innkeeper brushed her hand across Snaveling’s as it rose to her face to brush away a strand of hair, and waited.