[Amanaduial the archer]

A curtain of hair fell across Aman's face as she leant over, wiping at an ale stain on one of the weary tables, and she brushed it back quickly behind one ear. As she did so, a figure caught her eye and she turned to look over at it. Aman...Bredan, the Gondorian man who had stayed at the Inn for a few nights now. He was staring at her, a small smile on his face. She was not sure she was entirely comfortable with the way his eyes lingered on her...

However, she was Innkeeper, as ever, and he as yet had no drink. Approaching, the slipped the rag through one apron string and brushed back her hair - having washed it this morning, having gone too bed very early this morning, it seemed determined to show off it's fresh silkiness. Looking up as she reached for a pen and pad from her skirts, she smiled at Bredan warmly, regardless of her unease at his persistent gaze. "Bredan, good morning."

The man beamed widely, his eyes finding hers now. "You remembered..." he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, my Lady - how can I help you?"

The question surprised the Innkeeper and she laughed. "How can you help me? Sir, I believe the situation should be the other way around."

"Call me Bredan, please." The Gondorian's voice was smooth, charming. Aman glanced at his face, then his belt - but the sheath was empty, and he did not seem to be an early morning drunk.

"Nonetheless, Bredan," she grinned back. "Will you have some breakfast?"