[Elora]

She could smell soap, and she smiled. He had promised and Falowik was a man of his word as well as the honesty she had sensed the night before. She heaved the filled buckets and emptied them one by one into the trough to fill it, a smile on her face despite the weight. A burden made light by something ephemeral. The sky was rosy overhead, delicate streaks of colour stretching through the lightening sky. The clearing Falowik was in would be beautiful by that light, she thought as she emptied the last bucket. She was pleased he would enjoy it as she had.

Uien continued to sing as she moved through her tasks. She also recalled how nervous she had been of discovery. A private man, Falowik would not be at all pleased with the thought that she was about to intrude. Still the thought brought an amused twitch to her lips. Next to be done was the feed bins in the day pasture. She emptied grain into a wheelbarrow and wheeled it out with a shovel resting atop.

The bins which hung from the fence rafters were filled in short order, Uien's song shifting into a new one. Birds added their voices. They knew when the grain was set out at the Green Dragon.

"This is not for you," Uien said to the watching birdlife. A crow alighted on the fence, fat and glossy black and studied her. "Don't take too much then," she cautioned it as it cocked its head. The empty wheelbarrow was wheeled back and the now impatient horses were eager to see the birds did not steal their breakfast.

She lead them by halters to the pasture, the birds reluctantly winging away except for the bold crow who cawed as a horse snorted at it, oblivious to the blast of warm expelled air. The birds were replaced by horses, whose heads filled the bins. She'd have to wait until they'd had their fill and refill them a little later in the day.

For now, she latched the gate and dusted off her dress. The trough was the closest water, the stream being already occupied. As she passed nearby on her way to the trough, where water sparkled and invited her to wash her hands, she smiled.

"Good morning, Sir Falowik," she called lightly. "I hope your tree guarded you well last night." She wondered if he frowned or smiled as she plunged her arms into the trough to wash the grain and horses away. Nearby the stubborn crow continued to watch her, as though she very well might produce some grain from nowhere. A row of horses swished their tails in pleasure as they ate the grain. It cawed at her as she splashed water in the dawn light.

"May I not even have the trough, Master crow," she inquired. "You had the grain bins, and Falowik the stream." The crow watched, eyes bright and dark, beak sharp and agile. It cawed again, as if by reply.

"I most certainly have gone mad, talking to birds as I do. Then again, I do sing to horses," Uien mused aloud, shaking her head and splashing water on her face. She straightened, turning to watch the sky continue to lighten, she wondered what golden-haired Falowik made of the dawn and of people who spoke to birds and sang to horses. The crow cawed again.

Uien picked up her song as she drew clean morning air into her lungs and embraced the day and whatever it would hold, the clean herbal scent of soap drifting to her with the rememberance of a too brief yet warm touch. As she stood, it occured to her that it would be poor indeed to allow the road to claim Falowik on an empty stomach, if indeed the road would claim him that day.

A fluttering of dismay waved through her at the thought. No, it simply would not do. Uien took a breath and ventured cautiously towards the nearby clearing. There was silence, no splashing.

"Falowik," she called softly. Had he already left, without so much as a word? He owed her nothing, Uien well knew, but still she hoped he had not left. Hoping she was not speaking to fresh air, with her gaze trained on a spray of foliage immediately before her lest it wander to something else, Uien pushed on.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. You're more than welcome to join me if you wish." Uien heard silence and the trickle of the stream as it wandered between its banks. "Cook's making sweet buns. They're very good," she added by way of reassurance.

Uien studied the fern leaf in the pool of sunlight in which she stood intently. Perhaps she was mad, intruding as she was if Falowik was there or else inviting the uninhabited trees to breakfast. Sweet buns and lunacy. There were worse fates for an Elf, Uien mused and she smiled faintly at the thought. Valinor, for example, held no Falowik nor an inn named the Green Dragon. Perhaps she was fortunate to have become lost when she was.

It was a new thought for Uien. Until that moment, she had accounted the events of her interrupted journey to the Grey Havens as misfortunate ones. Certainly, some experiences that arose were ones she did not care to repeat. But then, some she found she had a liking for, such as the one right now.

"I'll wait for you by the well, Sir Falowik" she offered and started to turn away and leave the sunny patch that she had stood in as her mind took its wandering path, darting through memories like a silvery minnow in the tide.

[ August 21, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]