Averyll had awakened early on the morning after the welcoming party for Finduilas. Unable to sleep, she had dressed herself and gone out for a walk through the streets of Minas Tirith, as dawn crept through the city and its residents prepared to greet the new day. Finding a bakery a few blocks beyond the residence where she and the other Dol Amroth ladies were staying, she watched as the baker opened the doors to his shop and swept the doorstep.
Seeing her, the baker turned toward her with a smile. "Greetings and a good morning to you,fair lady," he said pleasantly. "I've barely opened my doors and here you are... not even my first customer of the day. It must have been a fine party last night up at the palace!"
Averyll smiled and returned his greeting. "Yes, it was a lovely party. Everyone was so fine and amiable."
"Were they!" echoed the baker. "I hear tell that the steward's bride-to-be has made her debut now. Did you happen to see her? Is she as beautiful as they say she is?"
"Oh, every bit," Averyll smiled. Finduilas had been stunning, but there really was no reason to tell this man that she, herself, was one of Finduilas' ladies, rather than just a casual party-goer.
The baker glanced around and leaned toward her with a conspiratorial wink. "You know, they say she, the Lady Finduilas, is really not from Dol Amroth at all."
Averyll could barely hide her shock. "Who says that?" she asked, her blue eyes widening.
The baker lay his index finger along the side of his nose and nodded, winking again, as though he alone was privy to the truth. "Oh, I have my sources down at the palace."
"Do you, now!" exclaimed Averyll, deciding on the spot to play along with the man. She could decide later whether this new intelligence was something to be concerned about, or just the idle prattle of a bored shopkeeper. "How exciting! But who would say such a thing about such a lovely lady?"
The baker grinned in a cagey manner. "Oh, there are those at the palace with a fondness for my special sticky buns. Now I can't tell you who -- that would be bad form indeed -- but if you would like to try a sticky bun yourself..." The grin turned from cagey to inviting. "I just took some out of the oven."
Averyll suddenly had the mental picture of a spider inviting the fly into his web for a sticky bun. She smiled politely. "I'm sure they are wonderful, but, really, a lady must watch her figure," she finished demurely. The baker, a rather large fellow, nodded aprovingly. She took a step backward and, after a few more inane pleasantries, took her leave of the baker.
The gossip regarding Finduilas troubled her greatly. She hoped it was just the idle nonsense of a busybody, but it made her anxious to get back to the palace to do some discreet listening, to see if anyone else was saying anything similar.
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