[Undómë]

‘My brother, I think, will not forgive you, Farael. And, in truth, I will be lucky if I am forgiven.’ Telu started up the steps to the Inn’s door, shrugging her shoulders slightly as if to shake off unpleasant thoughts.

‘Pardon us, lady!’ The door banged open and two Hobbit men came through bearing a large table between them. When she looked at them, surprised, the one at the back grinned and nodded toward the front lawn. ‘Going to be a party tonight, Miss. Food and drink and music and dancing! Just setting up for it.’ They hurried past her and down to the grass where a short argument ensued. ‘She told us to put it over there, Minto!’ the one in the back said. ‘Oh, that she did,’ the one in front returned, pulling his companion along. ‘But I’m thinking it’ll do better over there by those bushes.’

‘A party, Farael!’ Telu leaned on the railing of the porch and watched the Hobbits maneuver the table into position. ‘Perhaps our stars are lucky today . . . perhaps this is one of your “possibilities”.’ She turned and regarded him thoughtfully. This might be one of her last pleasant memories of Middle-earth, she thought. That is, if Tindo had not had a change of heart and allowed her to stay a little longer. A light flush tinged the fine bones of her cheeks. And she managed a smile at the boldness of her request. ‘You’ll be free, won’t you? I should like to go with you to this . . . party.’

Her courage seemed to flee her. She could just hear her brother saying she was ‘reckless’, once again. And what would Farael think of her request? She had only known him for a little while. She had no rights to make demands upon him and his time. The fingers of one hand rested lightly on his forearm. ‘That is, if you are going . . . would you mind my tagging along, too? I promise, I won’t be in your way.’