[Dairym]

The tray displayed an array of good, homely food of all sorts, light ale, bread, soup and mutton garnished with--of course--plump brown mushrooms. The next few minutes they spent demolishing the food as only the young and hungry can.

Heather sipped from her mug, studying Ravennar over its smooth brown rim. He was nearly as tall as the rangers; his long legs stretched under the table. Intense blue eyes animated a face that might otherwise have been carved of stone. But when he smiled the stone had melted, if just a little. Heather decided he could look rather nice, if he wished.

He looked tired and dusty and travel-worn, but not so much as she’d expect from someone who’d just traveled halfway across the world. Maybe he owned a horse. She sighed at the thought of that luxury.

Heather smiled ruefully at Ravennar. “My feet are wishing Bree had a better cobbler. I suppose it’s a good thing my journey is halfway over.

Not if you change your mind, a small, teasing voice whispered in her head. Not if you go to Eryn Vorn. Heather twisted a brown curl around her finger. Hobbiton was the crossing of the ways. West led the road to the Tower Hills and the sea. And south… South lay her secret hope. She would have to choose by morning.