[Undómë]

Well, it felt very odd to be sitting there one the bed, being mothered by the Halfling. Still, strange at it was, it was comforting, too. Here, at least, was someone who wanted to listen to him.

Tindomion was in quite a peevish mood . . . feeling put upon on the one hand and dismissed on the other. His mother had bade him keep his younger sister safe on what was to have been their journey to new Ithilien and then return to sail West. An impossible task to be done, he fumed silently. Here they were, only halfway through the Shire and he had failed, miserably. And when he tried to speak with his sister of their mother’s expectations she only shook her head, ‘No’, at him, dismissing his concerns as silly, and shortsighted.

Mistress Bunce sat with her hands in her lap now, quiet, and waiting patiently for him to speak. Perhaps she might help him with his problem, he thought. Talk woman to woman with Telu, make her understand she was being quite foolish. He pursed his lips and slid his eyes sideways toward the Halfling.

‘It’s like this,’ he began, turning toward her and drawing his legs up onto the bed, so that he now sat cross-legged, elbow on knee and chin in hand. Tindo took in a breath and began to tell of how they’d left the havens at Telu’s request. She had it in her mind that she wished to see their kinfolk who had settled in new Ithilien one last time before she went West. And their mother and father, who had always doted on her allowed her to do so, giving the charge to Tindo that he was to watch over her, keep her safe, and bring her back directly. They would all then sail the straight way to Elvenhome.

‘The trouble,’ he went on, ‘began when we came to the Dragon. Oh not to say this is an iniquitous place in itself. But it is an exciting one, with many sorts of peoples, coming and going. And my sister, I fear, became more entangled with some of the . . . well, less than respectable ones.’

He shook his head as he explained her ‘friendship’ with a certain roguish sort of fellow . . . one ‘Farael’. And he thought he had gotten that cleared away with her, when some upstart Elf of suspect lineage, that one who traveled about with the players group, had come nosing about. ‘He’s a very bad influence on her . . . and now I’m afraid she been completely foolish!’


Tindo could see Mistress Bunce looking at him to go on. He couldn’t quite tell if she was in agreement with him or not, as yet, but he thought his next revelation might just clinch it. ‘She’s only known him for less than a day,’ he said, his brows raised as he shook his head. ‘And now she tells me they wish to be wed.’