[Imladris]

Lira watched Reynion and Morlathion from a short distance as she sipped her wine. She had seen Morlathion cut himself and, as she watched Reynion bandage the wound, she remembered that she had lost her own healing herbs as she had travelled from Ithilien. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall how she had lost them: she had had them on the way from Ithilien and when she had visited Minas Tirith. And then a band of wounded men had come in and she had given them to the Hourses of Healing. How could she have forgotten. The men had run into a small band of orcs; unfortunately, the were still a nuisance in Middle-earth. Lira wondered why she had never replenished the precious herbs; it was strange, she did not normally forget to do such things. As she pondered the events before she arrived at the Shire, she remembered that she had been warned to carry a dagger. Not that she could use it...she had not carried one for ages. "I should probably buy one or see if Esgallhugwen has a spare, considering these rumors of orc-men about," she mused to herself. "Or..."

A crash woke Lira from her reverie, and, glancing instinctively towards Morlathion, she saw that he and a chair had tumbled to the floor. She smiled and wondered what had brought him from Rivendell. "So, Morlathion," she said in her haunting musical voice, "what brings you to the Shire?"