[Imladris]

Lira followed the men who bore Esgallhugwen up the stairs in a daze. Never before has she seen such a terrible illness come over anyone. Folding the woman's hand within her own, Lira began to murmur in soft Elvish to Esgallhugwen. Lira knew the calming effect of her voice...many times she had sang to the dying to ease their pain and fear. She remembered her dying love, how even he had asked to hear her voice as he passed out of this world under the mighty trees of Mirkwood.

Little by litte the trembling that vibrated Esgallhugwen's diminished, until it had finally ceased. Smoothing her auburn hair from her damp forehead, Lira was relieved to feel that the fever had somewhat diminished. She breathed slowly, deeply, as if she was in a deep sleep, and Lira rose to leave when she heard turmoil erupt in the stables. Swinging herself onto the wooden banishter, she slid down and flew out the inn to help with the horses when she saw the Mirstress Innkeeper, slowly, assuredly, calming the wild steed. Lira's deep blue eyes widened in surprise and awe. The wind blue her strands of white streaked pale yellow hair into Lira's eyes, and she pushed it away in slight irritation. The love the Innkeeper had for horses showed in every gesture, every murmured word. The horse's taut muscles relaxed, his dark eyes ceased their wild roving, his muzzled dipped and nuzzled the woman's hand affectionately.

Lira smiled as she gazed upon the happy scene, but then she felt a sense a longing, a wistful remebrance of a home far away in the Innkeeper. A shrill whinny came to her ears, and Lira recognized it as the cry of her own mare, and Lira whinnied back. Softly, she made her way to the Innkeeper and asked, "That was beautiful. Never before have I seen a mortal man who was not a Ranger calm such a distraught beast."