[Imladris]

Forty-one...forty-two...forty-three...forty-four… Faran counted. Only forty-four buckets since he had arrived and it seemed as if he had been passing buckets his entire life. Amazing. Sweat streamed from his brow, and his skin tightened as it was dried by the scorching heat of the fire. He sniffed deeply, appreciating the rustic scent of the smoke that spewed like a dragon from the stables. Fire: what a beautiful thing it was and thrilling to the last. “Forty --” he said absently aloud. Bother. He had lost count in his musings. He shrugged: One…two…three…

A slim girl inserted herself between himself and another man. Forgetting to keep count, Faran studied her out of the corner of his eye: she had a single plait of hair falling down her back with little wisps fluttering from the main braid: the results of a hard day’s work. Her delicate face was smudged with black soot, marring her pale features. Her blue eyes looked a trifle nervous. Leaning back, he scrutinized the man beside her and heard him say, “Only that you’re a pretty girl and I’m sure you could find work.” He also saw the wink.
She was pretty…he got that right. Faran looked again: the guy was actually flirting with her…he shook his head. He saw the girl flush crimson as he handed her a bucket full of sloshing water and was surprised when she said, “They’ll probably need some good carpenters to rebuild the stable.”

He stared at the smoldering mass with the flames still leaping out of it and said, “I think that they’ll need some good carpenters to build a completely new, refinished and better stable.”

The girl smiled and he said, “What’s your name, girl? Mine is Faran.”

“Sigrid.”

“So, what do you do?” he asked. As he handed her another bucket he said, “Careful on the handle there…there’s a stray nail that could poke you.”

“I’m a weaver,” she replied. “Too bad I’m not a carpenter.”

“My mother could spin and weave,” he said softly. “She was kept busy always making new clothes for us. I remember her spinning the sheep’s wool into fine thread. I can almost hear the purr of the wheel as it spun and see the spokes blur together as it whirled and whirled.” To demonstrate, he rolled his eyes violently and grinned at her. “I would make myself dizzy watching it. As for not being a carpenter,” he added casually. “I’m sure I could teach you, if you wanted.”