The Night's Wanderer

36. Small Folk of Arda

The night slipped away and Morel woke up in a warm embrace. 

Letting her eyes adjust to the golden light filtering through the curtains of the room again her mind registered who the pale gold hair in the corner of her sight and warm arms belonged to. This would be something she could get used to, in time. 

Dressed in a loose shirt and plain trousers Morel insisted she would be fine for the few minutes it took Legolas to change into his own clothing. He remained skeptical, but with reason. She had assured the same thing last night and he returned to her having an emotional breakdown. 

Once he slipped into his own room a small knock on her door made itself known, Morel calling out for the person to come in.

Two curly haired heads popped through the door, wide grins forming on Merry and Pippin's faces as they scurried in. They had received word from Gandalf that Morel had risen from her long slumber yesterday and would be fit enough for visitors as early as the following morning, the pair not wasting time with the tales they wished to tell the Night Wanderer, unaware she had already been caught up by Aragorn and Gimli. 

Legolas returned to the room in a fresh tunic and trousers, braided hair clear of any knots, to find himself tackled by two small Hobbits as soon as he stepped into the room. The pair of Troublemakers overlapped their out of sync speech while Morel chuckled at their antics. 

Eventually the quartet settled down for breakfast as maids brought in fruit and bread, warm bowls of oats accompanying tea on a second tray. It had been a quick observation that dried leaves in boiling water was a favourite beverage of the elven Prince, not that he would likely admit that himself. Nevertheless the brew arrived unrequested, and the pot became empty in passing hours. 

Merry and Pippin told Morel all that she missed while asleep. They went into a lot of detail of their heroic feats in battles, carving tales of the monsters they defeated as well as acting how they swung their blades in such battles. By Morel's guess they were preparing to tell their great feats to the Shire, an audience of a quaint and eventless life. 

It still brought a smile to her lips. 

The pair had changed greatly in the past year. No longer were they two juvenile Hobbits seeking mischief and trouble, instead they had learnt the circumstances of the world around them. Learning there was a lot more outside the Shire.    

After breakfast the Troublemakers left Legolas and Morel to retrieve their other companions. Their voices echoed down the hall, joy filling up the cold stone building as the lively bustle of the day thrived. 

Morel basked in the content silence of the room, Legolas sat drinking his tea as he watched over Morel. Her social battery drained slightly with the early morning visit, and her emotional state still wavered since the night before. He had started mentally noting the small tell tale signs; the wringing of her hands as she wanted to leave social situation, the blank face and twitch of her nose as Morel registered stronger emotions that got pushed aside, and the lingering gaze tilted to the sky when she wanted to hear the voices ever present in mind speak. 

Pulled from his observations by a faint knock at the door the wood creaked while opening. Another curly haired hobbit, although with a more rounded face, peered into the light room.

Offering the two elves sat by the unlit fire a smile he peered behind his shoulder.

"Mr Frodo, Miss Morel is awake and looks rather well, shall we go in?" 

Sam's words had been a whisper but the two elves heard them with Morel's ears involuntary twitching. Her gaze moved to the door, taking in the face peering in.