The White Horse

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion had seen those who came and went passing in and out of the inn. His mind was no longer focussed on the card game, but rather on those people that he had seen walking into the White Horse. The young hobbit was clearly a lone traveller like himself; he had sympathised with her greatly, but she had appeared perfectly capable of looking after herself, if a little naive. And then there was the 'business transaction' as he thought of it - the two men still lay outside, their moans long silenced by their attacker. He wondered if she would try and take advantage of some unsuspecting patron during her stay. The other woman he had never seen before in his life, yet she seemed strangely familiar.

"Are you all right?" asked Adanedhel. His new friend had seemed strangely quiet, as though he was not focussed on the game. It did not seem right that he was back on a winning streak again; the Gondorian appeared far too strong that he would allow himself to be beaten so easily.

Laitalathion nodded. "It is nothing. I am just thinking on something that came to me in my dreams whilst watching new patrons come into the inn. Forgive me if I have not been concentrating on this fine game." He glanced down at his hand of cards, and then at Adanedhel's, which were spread out on the floor before him. "Although this time I believe I have beaten you," he said, smiling a little as he threw down his set.

Adanedhel collected up the cards and begam to deal them out again. "So tell me," he said eventually, "what made you come to Rohan? We rarely see travellers choosing not to go further west in these times of trouble. Why did you decide to remain in this borderland?"

Laitalathion shrugged. "Let me put it to you in this manner. If I were a country, I would be Rohan; were it a person, it would come in my form. We are alike in personality - neither wanted nor rejected, neither necessary nor dispensable. I am seeking to join the army of the Horse-lords and then settle down to a life in Edoras, for although my heart belongs to Ithilien my soul settles in the Riddermark.

"But I would like to hear some more about yourself, good sir. Those wood carvings I saw you working on in the inn were of exceptionally fine quality. They say silver talks mightily in this day and age, and I am willing to part with the little I have in exchange for one of your works. Tell me, how did you come about discovering your gifts in this matter?"