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Léof had contributed little to the discussion of the Elf, instead listening to the others and occasionally sneaking glances over at him. He had never seen an Elf, much less spoken with one, and he was more than a little intimidated. But when Eodwine came over to the table and said, "Laerdil has asked me to fetch him bread and water. He will eat where he sits. He invites any who would share his company to go to him, by the fire,” and none of the men seated there seemed inclined to move, Léof’s curiosity finally outweighed his nervousness.
“It’s not right that a visitor should sit by himself,” said Léof, standing up. It took a great deal of will power not to look back as he made his way over to the fireplace, and only the thought that he would make a total fool of himself if he backed out now kept him walking as he drew nearer.
The Elf was even fairer to look upon up close, and for a moment Léof’s tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. His mind scrabbled for words, and seized upon the first that seemed appropriate. “Welcome,” he said. But of course, the Elf had already been welcomed by far more people than him! Foolish word. “I – I am called Léof.”
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