The Green Dragon

[Envinyatar]

He was growing weary, and charming as his companion was, he longed for the simple comforts of a wash up and a warm bed. A yawn escaped him, and he asked her pardon, that he did not mean to be rude. ‘Would you excuse me, m’lady.’ he asked as he stood up, saying that exhaustion was near to claiming him and would she pardon him if he went to his bed. ‘Perhaps we shall see each other again tomorrow.’ She raised her mug to him and waved him off.

Derufin picked up his pack and walked slowly to where Pio sat with two of the Inn’s guests. He approached quietly and stood silently near, waiting for the opportunity to speak. It was not long in coming. Her Elven ears had heard each step of his approach. She turned her grey, appraising eyes to him, her eyebrows arched.

‘A . . . a room.’ he stammered, like a small boy caught out at some naughtiness. ‘If you will, Mistress Piosenniel.’ He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he hoped that in the dim light it would not be noticed.