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‘Well, then, we shall both have to learn to dance!’ She grinned at him and shook her head as they entered the Inn. ‘I doubt the Shire folk dance any of the steps I learned.’ She looked about at the Hobbits in the front yard. ‘They seem a merry folk. I’m thinking their tunes will be quite lively, their dances, too.’ She looked him up and down, then back at the more casual dress of the Halflings.
‘I think you might want to wear something a bit less formal for the party,’ she said, her gaze assessing his present clothes. ‘Something you’ll feel free to work up a bit of – sweat.’
The innkeeper set the two of them to different tasks. Farael was asked to help set up the tables and chairs outside. And haul the barrels of ale out and the racks of wine. Telu was asked to gather flowers for table decorations and to help string the little lanterns along the verandah and in the trees that bordered the yard.
The two went their separate ways, promising to meet that evening when the merriment began.
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Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost, her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night . . .
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