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Thornden
Thornden considered Elfthain with a slightly keener glance after the young man’s greeting, and his eyebrows went up a little in surprise. Until then he had merely looked on the lad as a new friend for Javan, but now he thought perhaps this Elfthain son of Théomund may be more than just another soldier in training. He clearly had a more gentile upbringing than Thornden and Javan had ever had; indeed more than any of the men-at-arms that currently worked in the hall.
As Elfthain bowed and proceeded to speak, Thornden reflected that perhaps this young man would be a good asset to the hall.
“I don’t suppose you know, sir, when we are leaving, that is,” Elfthain said.
“No,” Thornden said. He smiled briefly, his eyes twinkling a little. He liked Elfthain, he decided. He liked him a lot. “Have you been long from home, Elfthain son of Théomund? Or is this your first experience as a soldier?”
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