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Galither's sudden departure from the table surprised Denegal. He assumed Falowik's reference to his love had something to do with it, but he respected Galither's obvious need for privacy. Galither's two companions confirmed what Denegal had surmised. Well, perhaps Galither would speak of it when, and if, he wanted to.
Denegal turned all the possible answers to Falowik's question over and over in his mind. Had he been in love? He had been so sure - at one time. But now . . . well, it really all came down to your definition of love, didn't it?
"Well, Falowik, I thought I was in love once. Not so very long ago. You see, I fell in love with a beautiful face. But, perhaps I was more in love with the idea of being in love, than I was actually 'in love', if you know what I mean." He could see by the confused look on the others' faces that he wasn't making much sense. Then again, wasn't that just like most aspects of love - it never made any sense. "What I mean is, I had this idea that love was a very noble thing. You know, lords and their ladies, rescuing fair maidens from evil dragons, all that nonsense. My father had told me such tales when I was a little shaver, and so I guess I grew up thinking that's what a soldier would do - find a pretty maid, win her heart with his brave deeds, and live happily ever after. But, it's not really like that is it?" He sighed deeply and looked down at his ridiculous footwear.
"And in one sense, Falowik, that's why I'm wearing these idiotic looking slippers. If I hadn't 'fallen in love', I would never have been jilted, and thus would not have set out from Minas Tirith, as I did these eight months past. And I would not have lost my boot and thus have come to be sitting in an inn in the Shire wearing these things. My fellow countrymen here were wondering about my choice of shoes and thus we came to a contemplation of love. Confusing, I know!"
Like love and life, he thought to himself. Perhaps if his father had survived the siege of the white city he would have been able to impart a little more wisdom to his son. What with Denegal's uncle having left shortly thereafter for the north to help eradicate the last of the orcs and settle the old lands, there hadn't been any other men in the young boy's life from whom to learn the mysterious ways of women. Well, there had been grandfather, but Denegal had never felt too comfortable discussing such things with the old patriarch. And Mother had been no help whatsoever! She hadn't even wanted him to become a soldier. She didn't want him to go back to Minas Tirith. Well, perhaps after all, she had been right. Things certainly had not ended up the way he had planned.
Coming out of his short reverie, Denegal saw Falowik and the other two still looking at him. "So, tell us, Falowik" Denegal smiled "How have you been so lucky as to find that elusive sentiment - love?"
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