[Ealasaide]

Rochadan watched nervously as Ærosylle's shoulders dropped in a visible sigh. Then she began to flap her arms in a disturbing way. "I'm a bird!" she called down to the group on the ground. Rochadan handed his poker off to Kannah and was just opening his mouth to respond when he heard a plaintive little voice crying out behind him:

"Oh, I wish you wouldn't fly away!” Then more softly, “I wish I were a bird, so I might also fly away."

Rochadan recognized the voice instantly and turned in Andhun’s direction, but the concern that had been etched into his face by the sadness of the boy’s voice, vanished at once when he saw that the child was accompanied by Earcwen. As Rochadan watched, the young woman tenderly stroked the boy’s hair and sat down beside him, speaking to him in a soft voice. Knowing now that Andhun was in good hands, Rochadan turned his attention back to Ærosylle on the roof.

“Oh, I wouldn’t recommend trying to fly, Ærosylle,” he called up to her, doing his best to maintain a pleasant and conversational tone. “You see, you haven’t got any feathers. Without them, you’ll just come plummeting down to the earth, which would be none to fun for you in the long run. How about I bring the ladder around instead?”

Behind him, Bragorn piped up. “I couldn’t recommend staying up there, either. Or flying for that matter. When I rode in this afternoon, I saw a bloody great hawk hanging about, plucking little birds right out of the air with her talons. Nothing left but a few bits of fluff floating down on the breeze. Not a happy sight, I can tell you!”

Rochadan turned around and gave Bragorn a look sharp enough to make the Gondorian fall back a step. “Well, I did see a hawk,” Bragorn muttered stubbornly. Then, thinking the better of arguing the point under the circumstances, he added: “Eh... how about I go find that ladder?”

“Yes, please,” answered Rochadan. “It’s standing against the side of the inn. I put it there this morning for a guest.”

Bragorn nodded and took off to fetch the ladder. As he did so, he gave Ærosylle a friendly wave. “Just have a seat there, love, hey? I’m going to fetch the ladder.”

“Who’s that?” Ærosylle called down as Bragorn walked away. She stopped flapping and let her thin arms fall to her sides.

“It’s Bragorn. Do you remember him? He used to come stay here from time to time when your father was alive.” Rochadan paused. Inwardly he cringed a bit, wondering if it had been so very smart to bring up Ærosylle’s father, who had been so tragically killed by the dragon, while Ærosylle was still perched on the roof. He changed tactics quickly. “Bragorn’s bringing the ladder around. Will you come down? If you like, I could even come up there for a while and keep you company. Or I’m sure Finian wouldn’t mind coming up for a spell either. We could fetch him if you like. What do you say?”