Mrs. Bass showed them to two well-appointed guest rooms. The housekeeper brought Haleth to her room. She then led Inglor the length of the hall to another room and hovered inside the door, straightening the perfectly straight paintings, whisking away imaginary dust and asking him if there was anything, anything at all, that she could get for him.

Inglor was beginning to worry he would have to be rude to the woman before she would leave when Haleth unexpectedly rescued him.

"Excuse my intrusion, Inglor, but I need to speak to you privately," she said, entering the room without invitation.

"I am so sorry, Mrs. Bass." she truthfully said to the housekeeper.

Mrs. Bass sniffed her opinion of the urgency of any matter Haleth could possibly have to discuss, but she left the room, pausing in the doorway.

"Now Inglor," Haleth said as she placed her hand on his arm. "You told me to tell you if I noticed any ill effects from the poison."

Inglor immediately covered her hand with his. He searched her eyes and face for any sign of pain or weakness. He was still staring intently at Haleth when the door snicked closed with Mrs. Bass on the opposite side.

"What do you feel?" he asked suspiciously.

"I felt that you needed some help with Mrs. Bass," Haleth said honestly.

"It was that obvious?" he asked, sinking onto the bed.

"Oh Inglor, it happens all of the time," Haleth said, putting her hands on her knees and bending so that she was at his eye level. "I hardly need magical abilities to know it."

"I can wait a few minutes to be certain she is gone before I leave," she offered.

"No," he said, "Please stay."

"For protection?" she asked, a wry smile on her lips.

"No, for company," he answered sadly.

Haleth seated herself cross-legged on the floor and looked sadly at Inglor. Since the episode in Dale he had taken on the melancholy air of the rest of his kindred and this bothered her to no end. She tried to think of something that might lift his spirits.

"This is where we met," she said softly.

"We actually met on the lake," Inglor corrected her.

"Inside of the lake, if you want to be completely correct," said Haleth.

"Technically, yes," Inglor agreed, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Though it was not possible to make introductions at the time."

"Yes, well having one's lungs filled with water tends make conversation difficult," Haleth observed.

"That and being perilously close to the falls," said Inglor.

"It's a good thing one of us is a strong swimmer," said Haleth.

"It's a good thing one of us had the foresight to have used a well anchored rope," he added.

"That was the first time you saved my life," Haleth said. "Who was to know it was the beginning of a bad habit?"

Inglor's face fell. "I see nothing bad about it," he said quietly.

"I'm only teasing, Inglor," Haleth said quickly, biting her lip and regretting the poorly chosen words.  The banter had lightened Inglor’s mood but now he grew pensive again. Haleth quickly cast about for a way to brighten his mood.

"You've also landed me in some difficult situations," she said. He looked at her with one eyebrow raised in question. "You threw me into that pit in the cold drake's lair and then landed on me."

She spent the next two hours trying to coax a smile to his face. Even when she succeeded his smile seemed a pale imitation of its former self, as the sun seen through a thick layer of enveloping mist.

Their strained conversation was interrupted late in the afternoon by a firm knock on the door.  Inglor sprang gracefully to his feet to answer the door, leaving Haleth to stretch her muscles which were stiff from several hours of sitting on the hard wooden floor. She heard Mrs. Bass'es voice in friendly conversation and approached the door. Her movement caught the housekeeper's eye and Mrs. Bass’es manner immediately became stiff and formal with her disappointment in the discovery that Inglor already had company.

"I hope that I am not interrupting anything," Mrs. Bass said with barely stifled bitterness.

"Not at all," Inglor said, surprised that her manner could change so rapidly and not understanding the cause of it. "Thank-you for taking the trouble to bring such a sumptuous feast."

"I won't be staying," she said, handing the tray to Inglor and flashing Haleth a look that left no uncertainty as to what respectable, decent people thought of women who remained in a man’s room without being properly chaperoned. It hardly mattered that Mrs. Bass had been planning to do exactly the same thing, her schemes and careful preparations had been thwarted and Haleth was to blame. Haleth accepted the judgement with a blink and a mental shrug. If only the housekeeper knew the truth of the matter. She would likely still be jealous, but not nearly as jealous.

Haleth caught a last glimpse of Mrs. Bass as she marched down the hallway, disapproval and disappointment etched in every rigid movement. Then Inglor handed the tray to her, closed the door and the housekeeper disappeared behind the solid panel of oak.

"That was kind of her," Inglor said, his dulcet voice expressing true gratitude and bafflement at the same time.

"She was disappointed to find me here," Haleth said shortly, hoping that Inglor would not require further explanation.

"Where else would you be?" he asked, his mystification growing with this new revelation. "She saw you come into my room earlier and she has undoubtedly been watching the door most of the time since then.

"She must have had some other duties to perform and hoped I had left in the meantime," said Haleth as she placed the tray on the floor and examined the feast.  The tray was laden with what was undoubtedly the choicest foods the pantry could provide; delicately prepared and seasoned fish, sweet breads, fresh berries with thick, rich cream and a flask of very fine Dorwinion wine. All of this was accompanied by a set of silver service, fine china, linen napkins and delicate silver goblets for two.
As Haleth took note of all this she made a quick mental note that Inglor was noticing more about human behavior than he had in the past; either that or he was admitting to noticing more. She was trying to decide which was more likely and which delicacy to sample first when he interrupted her thoughts.

"Then why did she bring enough for two?" he asked.

"I believe she was hoping you would invite her to join you," Haleth said with a sad smile. "Humans, especially women, enjoy being your presence, Inglor. Please don't tell me you haven't noticed. I know you have."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Inglor recognised a topic that always led to an argument. They had quarreled a great deal in the past few weeks and he had no wish to endure another tongue lashing. Anything he said in his own defense would be twisted and returned as an attack. Admitting defeat without bothering to defend himself, Inglor sank to the floor, his golden head bowed, his hands loose on the ground by his sides, and awaited the inevitable.

"Inglor," Haleth said, stepping over the tray and kneeling at the side of her stricken companion. "What is wrong?"

He slowly raised his eyes to hers and read the concern there. He cautiously searched her face for the signs of the fury he seemed able to inspire.

"Inglor?" Haleth repeated with growing apprehension. She pushed a strand of hair out of his blue eyes and, with trembling fingers, gently caressed the side of his face. "What is it? Should I fetch someone?"

"No," he finally answered and he favoured her with a small smile, caught her hand and squeezed it gently. "I believe it will be fine."

"Maybe it will pass if you eat something," she said with forced brightness, though the worry remained in her eyes. "What would you like to try first?"

Haleth went back to her own room after they had finished the feast Mrs. Bass had provided, intent upon preparing herself for the gathering that evening. It seemed whenever she met anyone of importance she either looked like a vagabond or an invalid. The fact that she essentially was a homeless wanderer was no excuse. She would have to settle down some day and needed to reacquaint herself with the proper ways of men. Not that she had any illusions of marrying wealthy and retiring comfortably, she simply wanted to know all of the rules on the off chance she ever had the opportunity to play the game.

An unexpected surprise awaited her. Someone had laid out a dark green gown upon the bed. Haleth smiled crookedly at the thought of Mrs. Bass, sniffing with disapproval, bringing the dress to the room of the Master's unwanted guest.

She bent to examine the gown. It was made of soft, finely spun wool. It seemed rather odd to Haleth that Beregnil would just happen to have something like this in his home, waiting in case a guest of this exact size with no proper clothing should happen upon his doorstep. Perhaps it had belonged to someone else. Haleth had seen no evidence of Beregnil having a wife; Mrs. Bass seemed to be the only female presence in the formal part of the house. It could be that Beregnil’s wife was deceased and that the dress had belonged to her. Haleth ran her fingers over the soft fabric.  She was not comfortable with the idea of wearing a dead woman's clothing.

She decided to put the dress aside for the moment. Intent upon washing herself, she approached the washstand where a bar of soap, a basin and a ewer of water awaited. There was a note propped against the ewer. Curious, Haleth took the piece of fine paper and opened it.

Dear Lady

Haleth almost put the note down, thinking it had been meant for someone else and she had stumbled upon it by accident. She had been called a great many things, but lady was not one of them. Dear was simply an adjective she never considered as being applied to herself. She quickly realised how ridiculous she was being and continued to read the flowing, steady script.

Dear Lady,

I apologise for not being available to dine with you and your companion this evening. The duties of the Master of Laketown are not heavy, but they often require attention at the most unfortunate times. I have instructed Mrs. Bass to provide food for you both.
Please forgive my forwardness in the following matter. It is my sincerest hope that it does not offend you, as that is the furthest thing from my intentions. I could not but help notice that your pack is far too small to hold garb for a more formal occasion. The people whom I have invited this evening are wealthy merchants and I do not wish them to believe themselves better than you. Please consider making use of the gown, if you so desire. It has never been worn and was made by the spinners and tailors of Dorwinion, who have some reputation of skill.
Again, forgive my impertinence but I have taken the liberty of choosing a pair of combs to ornament your hair.. I have requested that Mrs. Bass leave them on the bureau. She may not comply with my request. She seems to disapprove of you for a reason I can easily fathom.
Again, I apologise if these offers offends you. Rest assured that I would be glad to have you in my company regardless of how you are attired, and will understand if you chose to not use these paltry things.

Your Servant

Beregnil, Master of Lake Town

Haleth read the note carefully a second time and then sighed. Beregnil obviously had to maintain appearances with his colleagues and housing a rag-a-muffin would not be proper. It was a small thing to ask in return for his hospitality, though, and it would be impolite to refuse. Not that Haleth would have been likely to refuse in any case.

She refolded the letter and carefully placed it on the bureau. Mrs. Bass, who had undoubtedly read the note, had thought better of withholding the combs. They glittered golden in the late afternoon light. The spines were of ivory. Graceful deer exquisitely carved in the fashion of the northmen leapt over a fallen tree trunk while looking back over their shoulders, every line depicted the light-footed agility and motion of the animals. The details of the carvings were outlined in delicate lines of gold. Haleth had seldom seen anything as beautiful that had not been made by elves. She grimaced when she thought of how to put them into her hair to best effect; hairstyling was not one of the skills she had cultivated.

Haleth frowned at the gifts and decided that she would at least need to have a bath to do them proper justice. She went in search of Mrs. Bass, who would undoubtedly be unhappy to see her.