Mellon peered into Ędegard's mug, and raised an eyebrow, and then leaned forward and gave a sniff. "The Inkeeper sold you that? You're older than you look."
Ędegard took a pull at his mug. "You're not from around here."
"True enough. I'm a blacksmith from Gondor, if you must know, " he said hoping Ędegard would be satisfied with that.
"You said that already. But you look lost."
"Well, " said Mellon, "I suppose I am rather confused."
Ędegard waited.
"I can't remember much, " Mellon said.
Ędegard raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I-- I can't remember anything. Except that I'm a blacksmith, and that I lived in the city."
"Minas Tirith?"
Mellon blinked. "Is-- is that its name?"
"Osgiliath?"
"I-- that sounds familiar, but--"
Ędegard sat back and contemplated Mellon. "It's a good thing you're among friendly folk, " he said. "The elders can send word to Gondor next time someone rides that way. Somebody must be looking for you."
"I suppose that would be wise. But, Ędegard, I'm not sure I want to go back to-- to Gondor. At least, not where I was from. But I don't know why. Do you know a place called Edhellond?"
Ędegard's eyes narrowed. A fugitive? he wondered. "No, I've never heard of Edhellond; where is it? What is it?"
Mellon shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But I think it might be to the south or to the west; somewhere near the sea. I don't know why."
<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:21 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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