The White Horse Inn, Act II

[Amanaduial the archer]

She seemed pleased at his courteousy, dropping a quick curtsy in reply to his equally short bow. With a slight smile, Hisimé began to move through to crowd to find a seat to watch from again and sit, before hearing her call and turning back. "Yes, miss Aylwen?"

"I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious: What is a Gondorian soldier doing here in Rohan, asking for a place to stay?" She watched him carefully, perhaps worried it might be an offensive situation, but the soldier shrugged lightly. His eyes flicking back quickly to where his seat had been and winced as he saw it swiped by a pair of avidly talking young men, unwrapping an armful of scrolls on the table and tipping a pocketful of charcoal pencils on after it. Scanning the more immediate area, the soldier settled his navy gaze on a seat at the bar, only about a metre from where he stood, about an equal distance between both him and the assistant Innkeeper, and moved towards her and it casually, not wanting to lose a second seat.

"I have some leave, a fair bit" he shrugged the comment off. "And....well, I have only once been to Edoras in more than passing. And now..."

He stopped, unsure of how to go on. The young man had made captain the year before, now in his late twenties, and he had friends further on as well - he had heard the whispers. Uneasy murmurings and unspoken words visits from strange, cloaked figures riding their steeds so hard the steam and foam poured from them...because I wasn't sure how much longer I would easily be able to see it.

"...well, now I have some time, and the Mark seemed as fair a place as any to visit in my time," he continued after a slight pause. "I have always been fond of horses, and Minas Tirith is not a city for steeds so much. I have no family tying me down either further than a sister younger by a few years, and..." he became aware he may seem to be flirting if he continued down the path his sister had indeed urged him to come and stopped with another shrug, hoping his skin wasn't reddening. Looking back at Aylwen, he returned the question, to an extent. "I guess that you are not from around here either, miss - your looks speak of Gondor also. May I ask how you came to be able to command such a rowdy lot from your throne of a bar stool?" he grinned, referring to when she had made her announcement in such a striking way.