[littlemanpoet]

While Falowik listened to the back and forth between Derufin, Benat, and all the others, quite happy to sit back and listen as he supped a brew, Uien stood before Falco Headstrong, horrified.

She was horrified by her own presumption and paternalism as the thoughts of the hobbit slid by her percipience.

Is my face so very expressive that this new Elf woman can read my thoughts? It is annoying.

Uien turned to Mithalwen and asked her mutely, Have I been that unsubtle? Mithalwen gave the slightest sympathetic shrug, unnoticed by Falco, who was looking at the ground, his face hidden; but not his thoughts. It is an unfair question. I don't mind them helping...

Uien went cold inside. Of course, the poor hobbit was right! It had been the height of arrogance for her to barge in and take charge, treating this hobbit like an inferior, speaking to him as if it had to be obvious that what she thought was right, was indeed the only way that could be. She did not withhold her thought from Mithalwen.

Falco blushed, for he was being more honest with himself than usual. I want to take care of the poor little lad. I never had any children of my own, always wanted them. It was my delight to take care of Marigold, but it would be wonderful to take care of a boy like Rory who will someday be a fine, upright young laddie. It helps me to pretend that I do have little sons and daughters of my own.

Uien laughed inwardly at her own earlier words, "There is more healing to be done here than one pair of legs." Falco needed to be needed. It was a simple thing, really. So wise, Uien, she scolded herself, as if you could possibly know best!

Falco's blush deepened as he accused himself of sentimentality. Now he was wrestling with what words to say, words that would not place him in the very kind of impossible situation that her own words had oh, so wisely, forced upon him! He was intimidated, of course. Who would not be? Uien scolded herself roundly and insisted to herself that she must stop being intimidating.

"I... don't... know..." he stuttered.

Uien was relieved. Wise hobbit. He had given her the only answer left to him that would not put him in virtual servitude to her "elf-knows-best" arrogance.

"I don't know," he murmured again, and stared at the ground.

Uien dropped to her knees before him, so that they were eye to eye. "You are a wise hobbit, Master Headstrong." The hobbit's head came up in surprise. The hobbit lass and lad watched, eyes wide. "I spoke thoughtlessly and placed you in a most difficult position. Forgive me! Mithalwen and I are pilgrims, passing through, and soon on our way. You will always be here with Rory and Marigold. The children look to you, not us. Please, tell us what you would have us do."