[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman's eyes followed Snaveling out of the door, but as it began to close, she looked away quickly, fumblinh beneath the bar. She gave a small, short gasp a exactly the same moment that the door shut, and closed her eyes, letting the breath out quickly.

It would be easier if you had a heart of stone, Amanaduial. Taking in every waif and stray... Kneeling behind the bar, her fingers searched between the glasses for some imaginary item, busying herself with nothingness to cover her upset. Straightening quickly, she smoothed her dress in a sharp movement, then glanced around to see where Ruby was. Catching the hobbit's eye, she signalled towards the bar. Something about her expression must have made the hobbit realise the Innkeeper's seriousness, and she nodded before scurrying over to Buttercup to ask her to cover the floor while she dealt with the bar.

Not casting another look back, Aman forced herself to walk only at a brisk pace out of the busy, bustling room and into the quiet solitude of her study. As she shut the door behind her, muffling the sounds of the Inn to a steady, quiet murmur, she leant back against it, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. Beren, Lúrëaelda, and now Snaveling... Too soft, Aman, too quick to love those who will only leave...and everyone leaves...

A sudden idea seized the Innkeeper and her eyes snapped open. Taking only a split second to think about it, Aman made up her mind and spun around, walking very quickly from the room and, reaching the stairs, she took them two at a time but moving quietly, so those who did not look up did not notice anything curious - although of course she must have been a rather desperate sight. She didn't care much though, not now - she had to get up as quickly as possible, before it was too late. Reaching the attic stairs, she sped up them, her feet sure on the rungs of the ladder, and it was just as well at the speed she was going. Darting to the window, she pushed it open and swung out quickly. Using the same method as before, but at about twice the speed, the Innkeeper was on the roof in less than a minute.

Steadying herself, her arms out to the sides, Aman rose slowly into a standing position. She was able to see for miles and miles all around, but her startling green eyes were fixed only in one direction, on one figure. A man, clad in fine black clothes, his dark hair falling over his shoulders, lean body held straight. Even as she watched, the sunlight seemed to glint off his amulet chain - or was that only her imagination? No matter - she knew the figure easily from his stance and clothes.

"Snaveling!"

Her voice rang out in that direction. The man didn't pause, maybe not hearing, so Aman called again. "Snaveling!"

He paused, slowing to a halt, then swivelled around the look...upwards. She grinned, glad he had guessed. Holding her hair back with one arm, she held the other hand high and steady.

"Farewell, man of the South! I hope that we shall meet again, whether on this path or that which comes after this life. Farewell, Snaveling!"

The man contemplated Aman steadily, and at this distance, even Aman's sharp eyes could not pick out his expression. Then he held a hand high back at her, and called something back, more quietly than she had, but with a voice dignified and warm, although the words were whipped away. Then, as Aman bowed carefully to him, an overdone gesture, he returned it ironically, then after a second, he turned and continued on his way, his head held high. Aman breathed deeply in the high air, watching his back, her eyes shaded against the sun. Shivering a little, she looked up at the sky and saw the forebodingly cloudy sky. It would not be an hour before the rain came, and what rain it would be to look at those clouds. Taking a last glance after Snaveling, Aman fixed this last glimpse in her memory, then descended from her high perch, her lookout, back to the Common Room. Straightening her hair, her dress and her head, Aman of The Green Dragon returned to her duties.