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Fairleaf
Fairleaf encounters Uien
Fairleaf was near the bower when Lithmire was speaking with the Hobbit. The Inn’s Cook. She had seen her at the hand-fasting party. She gave a sigh of relief, hearing that Cook would help the Elf with getting the herbs he needed to ease his pain. It would save her the problem of trying to show him where they were without letting him know who she was.
The sun was pleasantly warm this afternoon. Fairleaf stretched her branches out and turned her leaves toward the welcomed rays. The wildflowers about the edges of the bower were still thick with bees, taking their fill of nectar before hiding away for the night. The conversation between the Elf and Hobbit had wound down. She watched as Cook left the bower, hurrying toward the Inn and her duties there. Lithmire lingered within.
Another of the Fair Folk approached the entrance to the bower with a determined step. A female. There were angry words from her and words of caution from Lithmire. He ran from the bower, crashing through the low lying bushes near Fairleaf. The other Elf pursued him, with a resolute look on her face, despite his request to leave him be. The female Elf’s pace was slower. She, too, passed by Fairleaf.
As she did so, Fairleaf inched out one of her thick roots and tripped her, sending her sprawling . . .
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When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown/When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town/When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West/I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
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