[Undómë]

Seeing the look on her brother’s face, Telu thought the better of taking Farael’s arm. She knew Tindo’s limits, and knew also that he had been pushed very near them. She clasped her hands behind her back and walked between the two of them.

The man cheats! he spoke to her mind. And for no reason than to gain your favor. Tindomion looked coldly at Farael. And who is he to put on the High King’s garb? I shouldn’t wonder if he’d stolen it off some unfortunate guard in Gondor.

‘Tindo!’ Telu gasped aloud. ‘Your words are cruel. You have no right to judge . . .'

I have every right, Teluyaviel. His reasons cut off her further speech to him. It was our parents who charged me to take care of you on this trip. To see that you came to no harm. Mother, especially, who said I was to keep you close until we both could return to the Havens and sail West. And you also promised that you would defer to me to make the best decisions for you . . . on this, this hare-brained trip of yours. Here we are less than a fortnight’s ride from the pier our parents sailed from and you begin to tread down a dangerous road.

All color fled her face at his words.

I have nothing more to say to you. Save that it is too late to set out now from the Inn, else we would pack up and do so. He stopped and shook his head at her. Make your good-byes this evening. I trust you can do so without compromising yourself completely. Tomorrow early we leave.

Tindo turned on his heel and headed back to the barn, intent on giving the stablemaster instructions to have their horses ready at day break.

Telu watched his retreating back. A curious look was on her face. A mingling of both regret and decision. She turned back toward Farael and took his arm. ‘I think I’ll pass on the ale,’ she said, her steps quickening toward the Inn. ‘But a glass of wine would be most welcome. A large glass. Red. And from Dorwinion if the Dragon has some.’ She glanced back once to where her brother had gone, but he was lost to sight. Telu put a smile on and looked at Farael. ‘Your intentions were admirable,’ she said, ‘but perhaps next time you can let me win or lose on my own.’ She sighed, speaking low, as if to herself. ‘I don’t think I could stand one more well-intentioned male trying to run my life for me . . .’