[Frodess]

The elf laughed when they received their food. Champignonne glanced at him: he was almost as hungry as a hobbit. As the others crowded around the bar, he took what was left of the food and headed to a table in an obscure corner. Champignonne slowly followed him.

"Did you not want to hear the story?" she asked.

"No, I am tired of sadness, and all that comes with it." He smilled, and for a second, his eyes seemed to glow. "I am sure it is a good story though. If you want, you owe me nothing. Go on, I am not holding you back."

"Thank you, but I would much rather stay here." Champignonne was shocked that this answer had come from her lips. She did not want to admit that this particular elf intrigued her. He was so unlike what her mother had told her of elves, and he was from Rivendell, her destination. He interrupted her thoughts.

"So, Miss Champignonne," he said, a smile playing on his face. "You never did tell me why a young hobbit 'lass' like you was out in the dark of the night. Might I ask now?"

Champignonne blushed a deep crimson. She did not know this Tiquandel! She fervently wished someone would come to their table and interrupt this interrogation.