[samsmyhero]

Denegal had worked with a good spirit all the afternoon, enjoying the comradery with which hard manual labor can endow a group of strangers, fast now becoming friends. By evening, they had accomplished more than was to be expected and they headed off to the inn for a well deserved rest and supper. Denegal had stopped long enough at the stable to ascertain that Falowik and Uien had left, the stall in which they had been working tidied up and the tools gone. Perhaps they have taken themselves off for a break and a moment alone, Denegal thought to himself. He was brimming with pleasure at the thought of the new boots. His slippers, now much begrimed and with a tear in one toe, leaving it dangling in a woe-begone fashion, would not take much abuse as work shoes. They were meant for finer things! He smiled to himself as he thought of the assuredly once proud owner sashaying around in them.

Derufin and Zimzi played host to Benat and Denegal, and the four made a merry party as they ordered their food and then had a relaxing smoke, at least the men. Denegal had not had much experience with pipeweed, it still being somewhat of a luxury in Minas Tirith, and even scarcer in the southern provinces where he had grown up. But the scent was pleasant, even if he felt the need to cough. He was just settling down to it, when Falowik and Uien appeared.

Jumping up from the table, Denegal nearly upset Benat’s mug of ale. Cullen, who had wrapped his enormous frame as best he could around his master’s feet under the table, gave a start and whined inquiringly as to the cause for the commotion. “It’s alright boy!” Denegal said cheerfully. “They’re my friends.” Cullen thumped his tail expectantly, thinking they might be the bearers of a nice bowl of that delicious smelling coney stew. Denegal himself had a similar air of expectancy, and he stared intently at the two.

Falowik and Uien apparently had the acquaintance of the groundskeeper and his wife - his new wife from the sound of things. As Uien proceeded to introduce herself and Falowik to Benat, Denegal was practically hopping from foot to foot, wondering about the boots. But he politely waited until greetings were exchanged all around. Falowik, sensing the young man’s impatience, was tempted to drag things out even longer. However, seeing the moist sheen of Denegal’s eyes, indeed like a dog awaiting a bone, he took pity on him, and, stepping forward announced “We have a small gift for Denegal.” He pulled the boots from behind his back and held them out. “Try them on, Denegal.”

A wide smile split Denegal’s face, as he sat and quickly removed the outrageous slippers from his feet. Lovingly, he ran his hands over the supple leather of the boots and then placed them on the floor. He slipped first one then the other onto his feet. They fit perfectly! He grinned up at Falowik and Uien, who smiled back. “Perfect! They’re perfect!” he proclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of those seated nearby. “How can I ever thank you?” Denegal stood and strode several paces, feeling the fit and give of the leather. Coming back to the table, he gripped Falowik’s hand and gave it a mighty shake. “Thank you, friend! And you, Uien.” He turned to the gracious elf, and then hesitated, not knowing if it were proper to shake her hand. Sensing his uncertainty, Uien smiled at him and stepped forward, giving him a warm hug. “It was our pleasure, to help you out. And I still expect to hear a tale this evening.”

Denegal was completely flabbergasted at this unexpected embrace. Falowik smiled to himself, completely understanding the young man’s confusion. “We enjoyed the making of them. It is good to be able to work with the hands, creating something out of nothing. They are not fancy, but they will wear well and should last a good while.” He clapped his hand on Denegal’s shoulder. “Now, Uien, shall we order some supper?”

“Well, young man, seems you have acquired some new footwear. And Cullen here has adopted the old!” Benat chuckled and pointed under the table. All looked and saw the dog resting his huge head on the worn slippers as if on a down pillow.

“He’s most welcome to them!” Denegal laughed. “I daresay they’re more fit for a dog than a man.”