Fastred stood in the dim antechamber with Legolas, Bandobras, and Himbaláth, awaiting the porter's signal.  From without they could descry the muffled voices of people gathered in the Hall, and now and again heard someone walk by the closed door of the antechamber, speaking excitedly.  Fastred felt sick.  His stomach was roiled and racked with knots, and a sour taste tickled the back of his throat; he felt by turns hot and cold, and the collar of his good doublet was unbearably tight; even his hose felt itchy.  He fidgeted and twitched, straightening his shirt and doublet, buffing the tops of his shoes against the backs of his calves, patting his hair, and looking with ill-disguised impatience at the door.  Bandobras was fussing about his Master, brushing down his splendid silver robes and standing upon a stool to smooth the flaxen fall of hair beneath the bristly circlet; the opals and gems upon the mithril leaves and branches sparkled in the lamplight.  Himbaláth stood quietly by holding Fastred's standard; he was clad in a simple mail tunic covered over with a green cape, and bore upon his golden head a low iron cap.  Now and again he would look at Fastred and smile with sympathy; however neither Elf nor Hobbit spoke, and Fastred did not trust his own voice to break the silence.

At last there was a rap on the door, causing Fastred to jump; and the porter's voice spoke through the lock: "It is time, gentles all!  The King awaits his heir upon the dais."  Then Legolas turned to Fastred, and smiled; it was however a sad smile, as though he did this out of duty and not desire.  "Remember, O Little One," he said, laying one long white hand upon Fastred's shoulder; the boy's heart beat unnaturally fast, and he was quite pale.  "Wait behind me 'til I have greeted the king, then step forward when I beckon."

Fastred swallowed hard.  "I shall, Lord Lassah," he said shakily, and smiling at Fastred Legolas opened the door.

They stepped through the portico and thus up to the great carven doors of Meduseld.  Standing before them were the two royal guards, tall and marvelously arrayed; they opened wide the doors and stood to attention, their bejeweled swords held high above Legolas' head.  Legolas glanced down at Bandobras who bore his standard; the crossed oak leaves glittering with metal threads in the rich velvet ensign, and the crest gleamed with gems.  Bandobras grinned up at his Master and took his place.  Then walking with measured grace and studied step Legolas entered the Hall.

He walked through the throng, which parted to let him by; the people bowed or curtseyed or saluted as he passed, and some of the children in the assembly reached out their small hands to touch the gems upon his robe.  But the Green Knight looked to right nor left, keeping his shining eyes upon the King of the Mark, who sat upon his great throne.  Éomer watched his friend approach, and when Legolas reached the edge of the dais he rose to his feet, his hand upon his breast. 

"Legolas of Dol Galenehtar," he said, inclining his head; the heavy gold crown glinted dully in the lamplight.

"Éomer of Rohan," Legolas answered, returning the gesture, and ascended the steps.  He stood beside Éomer, radiant as the sun newly risen, and Bandobras his esquire stood behind him, holding aloft the standard; Legolas turned and cast his eye upon the crowd.  All watched him, silent and expectant; after waiting a few heartbeats Legolas proclaimed in a clear voice that rang to the rafters:

"From the sun-drenched valley of the Anduin, the verdant hills of Ithilien, and the river-girt city of Osgiliath, I bring to you Fastred son of Faramir, of the line of Éomund of the Mark; he comes in answer to the call of his mother-brother, Éomer King, to fill his house and supply the security of his line upon the most venerable and sovereign throne in this land.  Will you take him as your heir?"

"I so take him!"  Éomer's voice boomed throughout the Hall, and his knights drew their swords with the hiss of steel.  "Let all present know that Fastred sister-son is my chosen heir and the right and proper Prince of the Mark."

"An it please you, O Fastred Faramir's son," said Legolas, his eyes fixed upon the dark entryway at the far end of the Hall, where Fastred waited in the shadows.  "Come forth so that your people may know you, and give you the honor and veneration that is your just due as their lord, protector, and prince."

His heart in his throat, Fastred walked the gloomy length of the Hall.  He kept his eyes fixed upon Lassah, who amongst the men and warriors at the dais looked more like unto a tall white birch tree crowned with snow and gleaming in the sunshine; the lamplight reflected off the gems upon his robe, and on the jewels on his torc and circlet, and cast light all round him.  In fact it seemed to Fastred then that he was surrounded by darkness; the peat fires set up murky smoke, and the shadows brooded and lurked in corners and doorways, and even the people in their bright raiment were cloaked in shade.  But Lord Lassah's fair face gleamed as abalone, and his eyes like the light of the moon; frosty gems sparkled upon his epaulettes and lapels, and the satiny white cloth of his garment shimmered and shone.  Feeling very light-headed, and reassured not only by Lassah's tender face but by Himbaláth's stout presence at his heels, Fastred approached the dais, and taking Lassah's proffered hand ascended.  The Elf kissed him upon each cheek, then set him before Éomer and said:  "Here, O Éomer King, is your promised heir; give unto him the pledge of his inheritance, and take him as your own son, and you his father, for the furtherance of your house, and the well-being of your kingdom."

Fastred turned to his uncle; Éomer looked very dim indeed standing beside Legolas, for he was clad in dark raiment, and though fair was muted by the Elf's splendor.  But when Fastred looked up into Éomer's eyes he saw tears there, and perceived the king was filled with joy to have him, despite his deep griefs; this so turned his heart that when Éomer leant to kiss him in greeting Fastred put his arms about his uncle's neck, and embraced him; surprised by this Éomer stared down at him, his careworn face soft, and he smiled. 

"Fastred sister-son of Éomer," he said, his great voice hushed and husky; "all I have is yours, and you shall possess everything in due time.  Be you a good herdsman to our people; valiant, and wise, and gentle, and just.  Be you first to draw sword, first to battle, first to raise a goblet, and first to dance.  Be impartial and loyal, deliberate and steadfast, generous and careful, strong and courageous.  Take unto yourself the staff of kingship over our people and guide them well."

Fastred felt very small then, and quite beneath the superlatives his uncle had asked of him; however he glanced at Legolas, shining and white and gazing tenderly down upon him, and he said in a clear voice that despite his fears did not crack at all:  "I will, my Lord."  And he drew his sword, turning the hilt to his uncle; Éomer took it and raised it aloft; the fuller gleamed, and the braided wire upon the guard threw back the light upon the tapestries around them.  Then the king touched Fastred's head with the flat of the blade and said:  "Now you are a man of the Mark; now you fulfill your oaths to our people."  He gave Fastred back his sword, and turned the boy so that he faced the assembly.  "Behold Fastred Prince of the Mark!  Westu Fastred hál!"

"Westu Fastred hál!" cried the people as one, and the guards and knights shook their swords and shields; the clatter and ring of it filled Fastred's ears so that he was near deafened.  He looked out at the assembly all bemused, and saw near the foot of the dais the Elves with whom he had traveled, arrayed in their finery; even Andunië had donned her dependable green dress, and regarded him with sober approval.  Gimli and several other Dwarves were also there, richly garbed and shining with gold and gem; there were even Dwarf-women, bearded and no less fearsome than their menfolk.  And filling the Hall were the people of Edoras, all who could fit within the building; the merchants and farmers and members of the minor nobility, knights and esquires and warriors and servants; all strangers to him, yet he was now their prince.  He looked round for someone like unto his own age but saw no one; he felt quite alone despite the crowd, and not for the first time that evening wished he could simply go to his room, shut the curtains round his bed, and hide beneath the coverlets.  But he looked back at Éomer then, standing proudly before the assembly, his hand heavy upon Fastred's shoulder, and thought of Lothíriel languishing sonless in her room; it was a heavier burden than Fastred had expected, but he knew he was strong enough to bear it.

************************************

The banquet-hall was lit by great swinging chandeliers filled with tallow candles which smoked and dripped, and the trestle-tables were rough-hewn and possessed an irascible tendency to rock.  The floor was of wood and not the stone pavers to which Fastred had become accustomed, not only in his own home but in Dol Galenehtar and Minas Tirith both; and the high table though filled with the visiting dignitaries was every bit as noisy and boisterous as the tables used by the rest of the folk.  But the food was not the elaborate, fanciful stuff he was used to picking his way through at grown-up functions; there were sizzling sausages, and big smoking joints of meat, and great platters of hot brown bread, and huge wheels of yellow cheese; there were even plates of steamed graylings in butter, which seemed to Fastred near as nice as the trout from the Anduin, though that thought felt traitorous to him.  He sat amongst his uncle's own men, advisors the king called them though to the boy's eyes they were more like unto warriors and not the smooth, well-read men who surrounded his father and Elessar.  The men for the most part laughed and sang and spoke amongst themselves, but at one point as Fastred took a second helping of sausages Éothain thumped him on the back and said in a loud cheerful voice:  "So the new Prince of the Mark does not turn up his nose at our fare!  How do you find it, O Fastred Prince, compared to the lavishly appointed tables of the King of Gondor?"

"O this is much better," said Fastred, surprised into honesty; "I do not care for such fancy trifles; I should rather a chop and a potato than all the grand subtleties in Minas Tirith."

This answer seemed to please Éothain and his companions, for they laughed, and pressed upon him a glass of sweet mead; Fastred had never tasted mead before and he was finding it rather richer than he had expected, and certainly far stouter than the ales he had sampled at his Lord Father's table.  He glanced down the table to Lassah, who was turned away from him, carrying on a merry conversation with Gimli's Lady Mother Frera; the halfling however caught his eye, and seeing Fastred held in his hands a cup of mead his eyes widened, and the Hobbit shook his head slightly.  Feeling disappointed but trusting Bandobras' judgment implicitly Fastred set the cup down and drank no more.

He looked longingly over at Lassah again, wishing he could have been sat beside the Elf Lord; the men were talking over his head, of border disputes and grazing rights, and he sighed.  He let his gaze wander over the assembly and it rested upon a gathering of young folk, about like to his own age – clustered together, chattering and laughing and dressed in their finest; they seemed supremely disinterested in the fate of the newest member of their monarchy.  Only one sat apart; it was the dark girl he had spoken to in the hallway outside the royal bedchamber: her gaze was fixed upon her trencher, and she pushed the food round discontentedly with one finger.  Unlike her companions she wore dull black, which made her pale skin to look sallow; she took no part in conversation, but sat a little apart from the boys and girls round her.  It reminded Fastred somewhat of Andunië, though that lady were more rigid and cold; perhaps that was cultivated merely through practice.  He looked down the other end of the high table to where Andunië sat between Himbaláth and Romastáldë.  Her copper hair shone brilliantly in the lamplight, and her eyes glittered green; to Fastred's surprise she was speaking earnestly to Himbaláth, whose face was turned away from Fastred so that he could not see it.  Fastred wondered what topic could have so enflamed her that she would speak at a public function; to his knowledge he had never seen her do so.  His eyes sought the girl in black again, but whilst he had watched Andunië the girl had apparently gotten up; her place was empty, and her trencher gone.  None of her compatriots seemed to have even noticed.  He wished she were still there; she had been the only person in the Hall who had looked as out of place as he felt.

"Fastred!" boomed Éomer's voice; Fastred jumped, startled, and turned to the king.  Éomer had leant forward, his pewter goblet in one hand.  He looked a little red in the face.  "Tell me – Arúlf, Marshall of the Mark – he performed his function well, in bringing you here?  You have no complaints against him?"

Fastred's heart started to beat very fast.  No, Arúlf had been rather insulting – yet – what would happen to the man, should he say that very thing unto his uncle?  Censure, surely; demotion, possibly.  And anyway Arúlf had been doing only what he thought was best in these troubled times; with all the treachery surrounding Rohan it was not to be wondered at, if its men regarded strangers with suspicion.  Firmly fixing his smile in place Fastred said:  "O no, Lord King!  The Marshall executed his duties with perfect comportment, as I should have expected from one who serves the Mark so faithfully.  I have no complaints at all."

Éomer regarded him suspiciously; he had apparently heard otherwise.  Several of the men, Éothain included, had ceased their conversation, and were attending to their words; Fastred determined he should protect Arúlf from disgrace if he could.  "No?" asked the king, cocking his head at Fastred; "for he is a stern man and given to brusqueness; offense is a by-product of that betimes.  You are certain; he gave no cause for affront?"  And he fixed Fastred with a cunning eye.  But Fastred was used to this from his Lady Mother, who frequently would ask her eldest for information on certain upsets in the nursery or the buttery; now as then Fastred was an adamant advocate.

"Certainly not, my Lord!" he said drawing himself up.  "I commend Arúlf to you most highly; he is a fortunate king who possesses so steadfast a Marshall to patrol his lands."

Éomer did obviously disbelieve the boy, and stared hard at him; Fastred however was equal to this, and did gaze ingenuously back; at last Éomer smiled and said:  "Very well!  Then I shall dismiss other reports as mere rumor, gleaned in error, as my prince has taken Arúlf's welfare upon his shoulders."  And he turned back to Lassah who sat upon his right; the Elf met Fastred's eye, and he winked.  Taking a deep breath Fastred returned to his trencher; upon his other side a man leant low and muttered to him:

"Well done – and my thanks.  Arúlf is my cousin."

Fastred turned to the man; his face was far friendlier than it had been before.  Fastred smiled and said simply:

"Thanks are unnecessary – " O what was his name … ah yes, Éodor … "Éodor; Arúlf as Marshall of the Mark is now under mine authority and therefore my protection, and I shall bear no ill spoken of him, for he performed his duties well."

The men round him seemed to be pleased by this, and spoke to him in a pleasant fashion then of horses and tack and fishing (there was apparently a prime spot north of Edoras, where stream met pond and the pike were ferocious) which carried Fastred comfortably through the end of the meal; then when the trenchers were gathered up for the dogs the minstrels came out, and Fastred, with a wholesome dread of having to ask one of those strange girls for a turn about the floor, slipped quietly from his seat, and hugging the shadows escaped unnoticed into the back passageway.

It was cooler there and far more pleasant, and the tumultuous voices did not press at him so; taking a deep breath he determined to visit Karakse, before whom he had no need to hold his tongue, nor to feign equanimity in the face of close scrutiny.  At that moment he felt more sympathy for Andunië than he ever had before; she at least understood the company of beasts to be far less trying than that of her fellow men.  So he pattered down the hallway and out the door, turning the corner past the outer wall of the armory, ducking beneath the opened windows so he would not be seen; then he gained the entrance of the stables, and slipped inside.

He smelled sweet hay and dusty straw, and the indefinable scent of warm contented horses; one raised its head over the nearest stable door and whuffed at him.  He stroked its velvety nose absently, and went in search of his Karakse. 

The stables were long, and very full; he went down the first corridor admiring the sleek pale horses of the Mark, and turned the corner to the next; then he heard Taruku bellow up ahead, and he smiled.  Meivel's horse was not used to being kept in a loose-box, and it sounded to Fastred that he protested his confinement; however Fastred knew that to loose that stallion would be to invite more trouble than he was worth.  He started down the dark corridor, then stopped suddenly; someone was standing in the shadows before him.  The figure gasped and leapt back.

"Who's there?" they both cried at once, and then Fastred with relief realized it was the dark girl from the feast.  "O it is you," he said, stepping into a square of light so she could see him; she shrank back further into the shadows.  "Fear not!  I shall not give you away, if you in turn promise to keep my presence here a secret as well!"

The girl paused, then in the dimness Fastred thought he could see her relax; when she spoke her voice was wary:  "You … you have escaped the feast too?"

"Yes; it is tiresome, is it not, to celebrate when one feels no joy, and knows no companion?" said Fastred, thinking to himself:  "Surely she is a stranger here too; surely she is as lonely as I."  The girl paused, then answered softly:  "Yes."

"I am Fastred," said Fastred, holding out his hand; he realized this were foolish of him, for surely she knew him, and he was glad the darkness hid his blush.  But she only gave a breathless giggle, and placed one thin cold hand in his own.

"I know," she whispered; "I saw you ride in – and I was at the presentation."

"Well I did not know how else to continue our conversation," admitted Fastred with a laugh; "nor did I know the rules of courtly behavior hereabouts, if it were unseemly or no to speak to one to whom one has not been formally introduced."

"I know not," she said; "I am unused to the court."

There was a pause, during which Fastred realized he was still holding her hand; he let it go quickly, and said, "Well I have told you my name, though you knew it already; will you not give to me your name, so that we may be the properly acquainted?"

She hesitated, and Fastred saw her shift uneasily upon the straw floor.  Behind her Alfirin raised her golden-white head over the stable door and snuffled into the girl's hair; she reached up with practiced hands to the mare's head and stroked her gently.

"That is Alfirin; she is Hirilcúllas' palfrey," supplied Fastred; "and beside her is Ronyo – she belongs to Andunië.  There; you know two more of my friends; will you not tell me your name?  For I am a stranger here and know no one; I desire greatly to become acquainted with someone, especially one mine own age; I get so weary of speaking with grown-ups."

"I am Léodwyn," said the girl; she turned away from Fastred and hid her face in Alfirin's neck.  "I am a stranger here too; I have been here but one week and know no one."

"A week!" exclaimed Fastred.  "Why have you not made friends with the other children then?  Seven days would seem to me time aplenty."

She was silent again, and when she spoke her voice was muffled by Alfirin's neck.  "I shall not stay here; I am only here for a short while."

"A visitor then," thought Fastred, a little disappointed.  "And then you return home?" he asked.

In the darkness it was hard to see, but Fastred thought perhaps she was wiping at her face with her hands; his heart turned, wondering what it was he had said that hurt her so, and wishing he had not spoken.  "Please, do not answer if you like it not," he begged; "I am churlish to hammer at you so – there is no need to reply to mine impertinence."

"It is no impertinence, my Lord," she said; her voice was sad.  "I came here from the Westfold.  My mother died when I was very young, and I was raised by my father; he was killed last year by the Dunlendings, and so I went to live with my mother-sister and her family.  But they have many children, and not much money, and so I am being sent into the service of your own Lady Mother, Éowyn of Osgiliath, who is a distant relation of mine, and who had enquired of Éodild my mother-sister of a suitable girl to be companion to her own daughter, and a lady-in-waiting in her court."

Fastred felt disappointed that she would be quitting Edoras so soon, but her disaffection pricked at him, and forcing his voice to sound cheerful he said:  "O but that is good news!  Good news for you I mean; it is not so good for me, because now I see I shall have little time with which to become the better acquainted with you."  She turned to him, and her face fell into a shaft of light; Fastred could see her looking at him, puzzled, though her cheeks were still streaked by tears.  "You are going to Osgiliath, mine own city," he said smiling.  "You are fortunate indeed; it is wonderful there … "  He sighed.  "Wonderful," he repeated sadly.

They were silent a moment; Fastred stood ruminating over his old city, and how much he missed it; and she watched him, stroking Alfirin's nose.  After a moment she said, her voice a little bolder: "Tell me of it."

Fastred asked no better; it was as though a floodgate had been opened, and all the things he loved about Ithilien came pouring out.  He told her about his home and the nursery where he had grown up; he told her about his nurse, and his brother and sister, and the toys they had, and the games they played; he told her about the citadel, the winding passageways and secret doors and hidden courtyards to be explored; he told her about Halgond and their skiff and fishing in the estuaries; he told her about his Lord Father and Lady Mother, of their nobility and wisdom and love; he told her about Minas Tirith and King Elessar and Queen Undómiel and the Tower of Ecthelion; he told her about Dol Galenehtar and the Elves and Lord Legolas and how lovely it was to visit there.  And Léodwyn stood, holding Alfirin's head and listening silently, now and again posing a simple question when it seemed the flow of Fastred's narrative began to go dry.  Soon Fastred realized he had been speaking nearly half an hour, and stammered to a halt, abashed.

"Forgive me, Léodwyn," he said; "I have spoken overmuch, and given you no room to reply!  Again that is ill-bred of me – O how Bandobras should scold me for my manners!"

"I mark it not," smiled the girl; "it is well simply to have someone speak to me.  I have been so lonely here."

"Well you need not be now," said Fastred.  "For you know me passing fair, and I hope that I shall know you too; besides you go to mine own sister Hísimë, and I know she shall love you, so you have that hope at least."

"Think you so, that she shall love me?" asked Léodwyn wistfully, reaching back to play with Ronyo's ears.  The palfrey whickered and nuzzled her neck, and she smiled.  "I should like to be loved; I have not been since my poor sire died."

"O Hísimë will love you," said Fastred confidently; "also Théodred too; and you shall love them I am certain, for they are so lovable.  Why Hísimë is the most tender-hearted creature who lived, and Théodred is so funny and so loyal.  Even Halgond shall love you I think."  He thought then of his friend Halgond, taking Léodwyn out upon their little skiff, of them drifting lazily through the reeds and feeding the ducks, and suddenly he hoped Halgond didn't like Léodwyn quite so much as that.  It was a strange feeling and it puzzled him, for he had never wished ill upon Halgond before.  But Léodwyn was considering his words, and looked more hopeful.  "And of course you shall have my Lord Father and Lady Mother, and shall also become well-known in Dol Galenehtar; why Elves love you even when you are not lovable you know; that is why I enjoy their company so."

"Do they?" she asked; she looked comforted.  Fastred smiled.

"Yes, they do," he said.  "Would you like to see my horse?"

"I have seen him," she said, "but I should like to meet him."

"He is here," said Fastred, and led her to the loose-box where Karakse shifted impatiently upon the hay.  He snorted and tossed his head when Fastred opened the gate, and the boy laughed and threw his arms about his horse's great neck.  "Hello, my friend!" he said, looking up into Karakse's bright brown eyes.  "I have missed you; I am so sorry I cannot bring horses into the Hall, for you should have been a better companion at table than many of the others."

"Aye; I wished for mine own horse too," said Léodwyn, stroking the piebald neck.  "He is so big!  Are all the horses in Osgiliath so big?"

"Nay!  There are few horses in Osgiliath, save those of my Lord Father's household," said Fastred; when he saw her face fall he assured her:  "Do not fear!  You may bring your horse; my Lady Mother will be glad you have it."  He and Léodwyn petted Karakse a few moments more, then Léodwyn stepped out of the stable and said:  "Now I shall show you my horse."

Fastred followed her to the back of the stables.  He had not been there yet; the stalls were smaller, and some held donkeys or even goats; at last Léodwyn came to a little stall in a dark corner and called out.  A grizzled muzzle thrust itself through the bars, and Léodwyn with a glad laugh ran forward, and opened the gate.

"This is Falafód," she said, stepping into the narrow stall.  "He was my father's horse, and he is very old; it is for that reason I am allowed to keep him."  She kissed the whiskery nose.  "Save this dress he is all I have."

Fastred ran his hands over the curved neck and broad withers; he said, "He is old but a fine steed still.  How wide is his poll, and how straight his forelegs!  How is his action?  With such pasterns I am sure it is quite springy."

Léodwyn seemed pleased with his praise, and spoke of Falafód with far more animation than Fastred had seen her yet display; he smiled and nodded, and watched how her dark eyes glowed with eagerness, and how her hair caught the torchlight, spilling round her high white forehead in honey-brown waves.  Her black dress was plain and unadorned, and she wore no jewels nor lace to so ornament her, but he liked the way her slender neck met the stiff collar, and how her long hair shifted upon her shoulders.  He knew he was not marking her conversation, and that he was displaying the worst of manners in this; he could not pinpoint however the cause of his sudden dearth of comportment, and thought perhaps he were simply fatigued.  He had just promised himself he would atone for this by attending her words when he heard voices behind them; he turned, and Léodwyn faltered to a halt.

"Ah!  And there is the miscreant!" cried a merry voice; a light illuminated the dark corridor, and several Elves came toward them; Hirilcúllas was first, smiling, her splendid lilac gown afire with embroidered silver, and purple gems sparkling in her black hair.  Behind her were Malinadulin and Fionim; Malinadulin held a jug, and Fionim two wood cups; both were laughing and singing.  Fastred blushed, but was immeasurably relieved it were Hirilcúllas who had found him; he did not dare think what Andunië might have said.  "My Lord sent us in pursuit of you, Prince Fastred; he told us to seek you in the stables, and so we have found you!"  She came up to them, her great sleeves sweeping the straw and her skirts rustling stiffly.  She kissed Fastred upon the crown of his head, and his cheeks flamed; but Hirilcúllas turned from him then and smiled upon Léodwyn, who shrank back into the shadows, her eyes downcast.  "And I do think me I might put a name to this face," she said, gently taking Léodwyn's chin in her fingers, and tipping the girl's face to the light.  "You are Léodwyn daughter of Fengel, and you go back to Gondor with us.  Why do you skulk about in the stables here, when there is wine to drink and music to dance to?  Come and make merry with us, O children; on the morrow shall we take to horse and gallop through the grasses, but now is the time to celebrate in more homely fashion, for this is the will of the King of Rohan."

"O do not press them Hirilcúllas," said Fionim with a laugh.  "After all dances can be awkward affairs, especially when one knows few to partner.  And certain it is that Prince Fastred here shall be much sought-after, for the girls with whom he dances shall vie to be his favorites."

"Ah, ah!" said Malinadulin wagging his head; "but see you here he has his solution; he has naught but to return to the Hall with Léodwyn upon his arm and he has a partner ready-made."

"But he cannot dance with one girl the whole night," protested Fionim, refilling Malinadulin's goblet.  "That smacks of permanence."

"No need," said Malinadulin.  "He keeps her for the first dance, and the gavotte, and the final reel, and can beg out the other dances if he desires.  And mark this, little maid – " The Elf grinned at Léodwyn, whose cheeks were scarlet.  "Once it is seen that Fastred Prince has chosen you for a partner all the other boys shall contend for your hand in the reels; it is royalty by association."  The two scouts laughed, and Hirilcúllas shook her head at them.  Turning back to the two children she said:

"Ignore them, dear children, I beg of you; they are deep in their cups, and care not for the insults they might fling about.  Let us leave them here in the stables – the horses speak a far more rustic tongue, and I hope shall not be so offended as we."

"Besides which," laughed Fionim, smiling at Léodwyn, "should you take them to the Hall they shall see our Lord dance the Bariz-Sigin; the Dwarves are all excited, and have taken over for the King's minstrels – 'tis a sight worthy to behold, little maid!"

Fastred brightened.  "Lord Lassah will dance the Bariz-Sigin?" he said, growing excited.  "But that is fine news indeed!  O with whom shall he dance?"

"Andunië, of course," said Malinadulin taking a deep draught.  "Who else gives unto him such stiff competition?  For certes it is with a face set as hers none might cause it to crack!  He has not won against her yet, and he has challenged her every Mereth en’Ehtelé since he first made acquaintance of Gimli of Aglarond, bless his beard."

"O let us go Léodwyn," said Fastred excitedly, taking her hand.  "The Bariz-Sigin is a marvelous Dwarvish dance and Lord Lassah dances it so well.  I cannot dance it myself for I am a poor student of mathematics, but I can follow the numbers in my head.  Come, come!"  He tugged at her hand, but she hesitated; she glanced down at her plain gown, and over to Hirilcúllas; she looked wistfully upon the Elf's marvelous vestments, in particular the bejeweled silver belt about the slim waist.  But that lady laughed and brushed the girl's hair back and said:

"It is naught but fine feathers upon a very simple bird!  The crow can fly better than the peacock, and is far more useful beside."  She smiled at Léodwyn and Fastred and said gently:  "Go; go.  Dance what dances you like, and when you are weary of that sport sit you upon a bench and laugh at the men who drink too much.  Go!"  So Fastred took Léodwyn and they ran off to the Hall; Hirilcúllas shut Falafód's door, murmuring softly to the horse; and turning to her two brothers said:

"For shame you two foxes!  I had in mind to let them sit upon the high wall and look at the stars; there is no reason to tease them so."

"No, Hirilcúllas, there is not," laughed Fionim; "save for our own entertainment."

"Well if that is your object I pity all children who cross your path," said Hirilcúllas shaking her shining head.  "Keep you here tonight, villains!  I do not wish to see what havoc you might wreak in the hall."  She turned to go and Malinadulin called after her:

"Where are you going?"

"To look through my baggage for a dress fitting that poor child," Hirilcúllas said.  "It is only feathers perhaps, but the finer the plumage the happier the birdsong."  So saying she quit her brothers and went to her chambers, thinking of a plain blue gown of hers that might be sufficiently altered.