[littlemanpoet]

Laerdil took the leaf from the boy's hand and crushed it, then dropped it in the water. "Is that better?" he asked.

Before the boy could respond, the report of many feet could be heard coming down the stairs. The men and women of the hall rose. Eodwine did as well, and Laerdil followed their example.

A man of noble bearing appeared from out of the staircase, his lady's hand in the crook of his elbow, preceded and followed by two men at arms, a lady in waiting following them all. The man stopped and nodded, and the crowd settle back into their seats. Eodwine approached the man.

“Lord Athanar and Lady Wynflaed, good morning. We have a most singular guest this morning." Eodwine gestured to the Elf, and the lord and lady looked his way.

Laerdil allowed a slight bow and a nod of his head. “Good morning lord and lady of the Rohirrim. I am Laerdil, of Lothlorien. Your home is warm and welcoming.”