Part 7

“Good morning, melmenya.”

Eowyn pushed herself up on her elbows.

Legolas was sitting beside the fire, stirring up its embers, which were beginning to crackle merrily. “The landlord’s wife has brought you hot water,” he said, “and I have asked her to prepare us some breakfast.”

Eowyn yawned. “Melannen,” she said.

“I have been to see him, and he is still resting.”

“We must get him dressed.”

Legolas smiled. “We must get you dressed, first,” he said.

Eowyn pushed back the quilt, climbed out of the bed, and padded over to the wash stand. “How long do you think it will take us to walk to the Forest?” She washed quickly.

“Two hours, perhaps. Here, melmenya.” He picked up her tunic, which had been warming by the fire, and held it for her to slip on.

“Oh, that is better!”

…

To Eowyn’s disappointment, when they reached the elfling’s room they found him already up and dressed, standing by the window with his toy rabbit. “Look, Gwanur Eowyn,” he said, showing her the frosted panes.

“Oh, yes!” She crouched down beside him. “It is beautiful, Melannen! Look, Lassui,” she said, tracing one of the crystals with her fingertip.

“Like a faery Forest,” said Legolas.

…

They ate a hearty breakfast of porridge, eggs, and bread and butter and then, whilst Legolas paid the landlord, Eowyn spoke quietly to the man’s wife.

“Here you are, my Lady,” said the woman, moments later, handing Eowyn a bundle of coarse brown fabric. “It’s old, but it’s still sound, and it should do the job.”

“Thank you.” Eowyn reached for her purse.

“Oh no, my Lady,” said the woman. “Please have it. Mine have long grown out of it.”

“Thank you very much, mistress. Come Melannen, this will keep you nice and warm.” She unfolded the thick brown worsted and wrapped it round the elfling’s shoulders, fastening it beneath his chin with a large wooden toggle. The heavy cloak bunched in stiff folds about the boy’s legs, and parts of its hem brushed the floor. He looked like a particularly stout blond dwarf.

“Melmenya,” said Legolas, smiling fondly, “he is an elf. You do not need to be so protective.”

But Melannen was beaming up at his new Gwanur as though she had just given him a riding cloak of fine silk velvet.