[Feared Half-Elf]

A silvery horse trotted down the road, untiring, and bearing an elf. He was young-looking, just like all of his kin. His eyes were the classic silver, his hair classic ice blonde. He wasn't an extraordinary elf, just the sort you might expect to meet in one of the forests.

He rode over the crest of the hill and smiled as he saw the light from the windows of the Green Dragon spilling onto the ground, banishing the shadows from the pools of gold they created. He rode forwards, stopped, dismounted, and stared at the Inn for a few moments. It looked different somehow, to the last time he saw it. And there was something familiar about the carved dragon by the name on the front. He couldn't quite place it.

A familiar voice spilt from the shadows. He spun around, his grey elven eyes searching the dark.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle." The familiar, female, melodic voice called in greeting. There was a pause. "Brother." The elf's face cracked in a grin.

"So you are here!" Elkamia stepped out of the shadow of the nearby tree, and they embraced in a hug.

"Rouwenlar, do you come of your own will or sent?" She asked, pulling away from her younger brother's arms.

"A bit of both. Thranduril wanted to know where you were, and I voulenteered. It's a change from scouting."

"You're still on scouting duty? I thought they'dve switched you off that by now."

"Something like that. What took you so long? You said you've be back in six months, and it's gone nine now."

"The Inn burnt down the night I stayed here on my way back. I had to stay and fix it, of course. You might recognise the dragon." She nodded towards the carving. "Like in my room back home." Her eyes wandered back to years ago, to her home forest.

"Have you been back? Are you planning to?"

"Not until father sees that I don't want to rule." The two of them stabled Rouwenlar's horse in the stables, then headed towards the common room.