|
As anyone in their position would, the two men turned around instinctively to see at whom Fíriel gestured...and Hyarmenwë drew a sharp gasp.
"Morliniel!"
"Who?" Maika stopped looking at the stranger, who appeared to be in her later thirties.
"My wife," explained Hyarmenwë. "She looks exactly like my wife."
"Well, that was easy," said Maika. "I guess we've found your daughter."
Hyarmenwë shook his head. "She's too old. My daughter wouldn't be quite twenty."
"Oh, Bobawen isn't as old as she looks," said Fíriel. "She's not been here for quite twenty years. She was Assigned as a baby. We assume it's because of her accelerated growth. She looks closer to forty than the actual twenty that she is."
Hyarmenwë looked a bit perplexed. He had always thought his daughter had been assigned for her name, nothing more. But there was no denying that this woman, this "Bobawen", was close kin to his dear Morliniel, bless her memory.
"Bobawen!" Fíriel called, as he mulled it all over, "come over here!"
But Bobawen had not quite reached the table when a loud POP rocked the tavern from outside. As everyone rushed to the doors to see what had happened, Elrogorn swaggered it, looking a little shaken. He was soaked from head to toe, and stank somewhat.
"What is all that?" Hyarmenwë asked.
"This?" said Elrogorn, casually flicking some of the water off the end of his arm, and wiping his hair back out his eyes in a most dashing manner. "Dirty bathwater. Those Wereducks are full of them."
Through the door, Hyarmenwë could see large pieces of yellow rubber scattered around the ground.
"I'm not so sure that was a Wereduck..." Aleksandur began, but Fíriel cut him off.
"Gondorians don't know anything about Wereducks, remember dear?"
"Well, it was a duck anyway, and it was threatening our lives," said Elrogorn nonchalantly. "And it's dead now. Now, good pubkeeper," he addressed the bar, "I'll have a pint of your finest brew."
Settling himself down at the table, Elrogorn took the pint from the pubkeeper and swiftly downed it in one long, manly, chug. Though the normal thing to do at that point would have been to let loose with a long, manly, belch, Elrogorn retained his dreamlike cool and did nothing of the sort.
Instead, he turned to Hyarmenwë, pointed at Bobawen (who had still not been properly introduced) and asked.
"Tell me, good sir, who is this stunning youngish lady?"
|