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Farahil followed only as far as the doorway and watched from there. The lad, for lad he was to Farahil, was ill at ease, though he seemed practiced enough at pretending otherwise. Farahil thought back to a lazy night on the dock, sipping ice cold cider as an old friend drank mead and enjoyed a smoke. A gaggle of youths had found their way near as the two men watched the stars begin to show in the faded night-blue sky. They laughed riotously, possibly drunk, and Farahil had looked at them in vague disdain. His companion had thought to inform them of their rude loudness, but Farahil had motioned for him to remain silent. Why waste a perfectly good moment of peace by chasing children along the water?
He couldn't be sure, but this lad's lanky frame seemed to match one from that night. He'd certainly seen him... somewhere... Farahil could not remember where and was loathe to assign the boy, Trystan, he reminded himself, an identity not his. He may have been one of the young men on the wharf that night... but just as easily he may not have. Farahil pondered the smallness of Middle Earth that he could travel anywhere and spot a familiar face.
He went back to his horse, rubbing her soft nose pensively. Why did the boy seem familiar? Perhaps it was merely the interest of finding one from Dol Amroth so far from home.
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Degas saw Cnebba watching him with what appeared to be wistfullness and beckoned him close. He leaned in, gesturing as if for secrecy, and the children leaned in with him, fascinated.
"My lord, my lady," he bowed at the waist over his crossed legs and they giggled. "I would have you do me a great favor..." Anything, they assured him, in all seriousness. "My mind is tired... I can think of no more rhymes. Would you spend a moment, perhaps two, and find me rhymes to sing about?"
Excusing himself from their activity, he brushed the dirt from his clothes and looked at Linduial. He smiled and nodded to Cnebba's parents, and waved casually to Leof, and he looked at Linduial once more. He walked to her, nervous; she might say anything.
"My lady." he spoke the greeting softly. "How did you sleep?"
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