"I have rode all over the place in search for someone to talk to. I spent the past few years on my way from Gondor where I spent time with my dear cousin." Cariâthwen finally looked up from her hands to see that Seleven's eyes were still open. "Agh! My tales must be boring you. All I know is loss and suffering. Nothing more nothing less."
"Oh, not at all," said Seleven with a smile, "you've had a rough time, that is clear, but as you said, there is still so much of life left for you to live." He placed the pipe on the table and cleared his throat. "So Thorn is a horse, but with a Dwarvish name, is he? A Nice name, I like it, much better than Linú, my horse, he seems to think I'm some kind of extra baggage the way he throws me around. Good grief!" He laughed at the memories.
Cariâthwen smiled at him as he told her of these things, but Selven continued, "So, you have been to Gondor? I lived there for most of my life. Delightful country since the fall of Sauron, still a little unrest with what remain of the Haradrim, but that is so small, very few tales are told of it. I used to be a captain of a watch tower on the south of the Anduin, good solid job, very little trouble till that wretch Smilog came along." he grumbled and picked up his pipe again.
The smell of hobbit food was drifting through the air, soon, even those who were not hungry felt the need to buy some of the Green Dragon's fine food. Even Seleven felt that he should at least try it, if it tasted half as good as it smelled, then it would be fantastic. "Would you like some food?" he asked Cariâthwen with a smirk.
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