[mark12_30]

Now that's music, thought Lindo, surreptitiously studying the vaguely familiar inkeeper. He suspected Nitir could fill him in on the fellow's identity... if he really needed to know. Tapping his fingers in time on the table's edge, his sipped appreciatively at his refilled cider (the greycloaked waiters were almost ghostly, and sometimes Lindo was surprised by a heavier glass than he expected.

He turned to Amanaduial. "I don't suppose you know the dance called Falling Appleblossoms? It's quite old."

Amanaduial smiled. "Actually, I think I do remember it. Most of it, anyway."

"I'm sure it'll come back, " Lindo smiled. "Join me. There's plenty of room."

"How did you learn an elvish dance?" Poppy called after him, as the two took the floor.

"From children, " Lindo shot back, and the two swept into motion. It was rather funny to see the hobbit and the tall lady dancing. But like falling apple-blossoms they did not touch; the dance swirled and spun and it worked despite the disparity in height.

"Do you think we could learn it?" Poppy asked Talmérië.

"Yes, " Lindo called. "Come on." They stood, and watched for a few moments, and then Lindo and Amanaduial began to weave the dance around them where they stood. Laughing and bewildered at first, they soon realised that Lindo and Amanaduial were sending them subtle directions with their fingertips. They began to watch for them, and simply go where they were pointed to; the dance succeeded, although both Talmérië and Poppy felt they would like to understand it a little better next time.