The White Horse Inn, Act III

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"Masters Falco and Eodwine, I am honored to join you, but I must warn: I have already dined on a sumptuous meal under the watchful eye of the Innkeeper. However... I would be ingratiated to you once again, Bethberry, if you could provide me with another flagon of cider? Spirits tend to leave me rather ill."

Saeryn sunk into the beginnings of a curtsy before remembering that her only gown was packed away in her bags. She stumbled before catching herself and sweeping into a dramatic bow. She grinned, unabashed, at the two males in front of her. She hesitated to think 'men', even to herself, for fear of accidentally insulting her new holbytla companion. Her desire for bed had completely evaporated at these friendly faces.

An expression of youthful curiousity played in the light against Saeryn's eyes. A hobbit? Here in Rohan?

"Master Folco, if you'll allow for a girl's curiosity, how came you to Rohan? I must admit to surprise... I have never before seen a halfling." At least not in these parts. Saeryn added silently. Stop thinking of that! She reminded herself. The past is the past.