The White Horse Inn, Act III

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Saeryn looked up from her tailor's seat on the floor by the bed when the heavy door swung open. Her sword lay unsheathed across her knees. Ruthven and Bethberry entered, the old woman with a tray of food and Bethberry with an admonishing look.

"My dear lady Saeryn, you will please tell me you were not awake all night! And you only just arrived yourself, and still exhausted from the trip. Off to bed with you before I encourage our heros out in the Great Hall to convince you."

Fixing her face stubbornly, Saeryn rose to her feat with an effort. "I'll have you know, Madam Innkeeper, that I am just-- I am just--" Saeryn yawned widely. "I am perfectly fine and awake."

With a cackle, the old woman spoke to her companion. "I told you, Bethberry. She's too much spirit to let someone else work when she can save them from the horrible torment of sharing labour." Ruthven winked at Saeryn, who utterly missed the sarcasm, and left the room.

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"Entirely too long, Eodwine, old friend. Let us sit and eat. Your half-sized friend has put me in longing of a hearty breakfast."

"Half-sized! Why I beg your--" Falco sputtered. "In the Shire I am known to be uncommonly tall, I thank you very much."

"Pity... have pity for the brutal headache last night's story telling has left me with, friends."

Ruthven interrupted with a stamp of her foot. "Gentlemen, whilst you chinwag, we've an innocent girl in the other room in need of your assistance."

"She's awake! Perhaps she--"

"Awake indeed, you old fool, the poor girl's been up all night whilst you shirked your duties for the excuse of too much ale."

"I--"

"You can fix it now by helping us get the lady Saeryn to bed. And her only just come from a journey herself..."

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Saeryn turned toward the door once again when it opened, this time admitting Ruthven and three men. He looks familiar thought Saeryn sleepily. Her feet were near to giving out beneath her.