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Liornung sat, his heart beating more fierce than it had ever before, even more than when they had walked the Golden Woods of Lothlorien. Could it be that they had climbed from the midst of peril and woe into the homey cottage, to sit and it whilst this fair maid tended to them, so young and beautiful, yet so kind and compassionate, as if she were an elderly mother? Was this not a sweet dream to refresh him while he lay weary upon the battlefield? It could not be real.
"Will you not eat, Liornung?" Leafa spoke softly from where she sat with Ędegard.
He shook his head. "Nay, I could not eat at this time. Soon, perhaps."
"Then will you not sing us a song of these wonders? You did so aptly in the Golden Woods."
"That I cannot do, for words are lost to me. And this fair and motherly one has sang for us; I could not best her, and I tremble to lift up my feeble voice after her pure, sweet one."
"But you must say something, Liornung!" said Leafa, with a laugh. "You look as though you are dreaming, and I hardly recognize you. You seem too young now, when before you were always like a father to us."
"Let me be young then, little girl," said Liornung, likewise laughing. "You have no need of my care when fair Marigold is tending to you. I can cast aside my duties as 'father,' as you say, and be youthful. Would that Good Secgrof were here, to sit by this fire, and also fair Blostma, to dance to this song, her golden hair shining in the lights, and her gentle eyes beaming with joy and peace."
And, with a sigh, he fell to eating.
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