Part 3

By the time they reached the town, darkness had fallen, and the clear night sky was filled with twinkling stars. “It is too late to go any further tonight, Lassui,” said Eowyn. “Perhaps there is an inn we can stay at.”

They found one in the market place—The Two Ways—a big, half-timbered tavern with a row of latticed windows (filled with light and laughter), and a heavy, panelled door from which, when Legolas opened it, the mingled smells of mulled ale and woodsmoke and roasted meat spilled out into the street.

“Welcome, welcome!” cried the landlord, rushing from behind the bar. “Strangers are always welcome! And it’s a long time since we saw the fair folk in these parts! Here, my Lady,”—he pulled out a chair for Eowyn—“sit beside the fire and let me fetch you a drink—a tankard of hot mulled ale is just what you need on a cold night like this.”

Eowyn sat down, and patted her lap, and Melannen climbed up onto her knee.

Legolas smiled at them. Then, “Thank you, landlord,” he said, nodding politely to the regulars as he followed the man to the bar, “but the boy will have mulled apple juice—”

“Of course, sir.”

“—and we would all like some food—pease pudding, perhaps?”

“With butter and mint sauce, sir,” said the landlord, “and fresh-baked bread.”

“Perfect. And two rooms for the night, if you have them.”

“I’ll get the wife to make them up. Take your seat sir,”—the landlord gestured towards the fireside—“I’ll bring your ale over; and your food, too, when it’s ready.”