The Hall of Fire, some time last month.
Her heart had leapt when he returned. She had shamelessly smiled and dropped whatever one-sided conversation had been targeted at her, the moment he appeared in the great Hall. Now, some hours later, the gathering has come to an end. The Hall is emptied, save for him and her: two figures seated on the ground, at the marble-carved feet of an Elfmaiden who dances her stationary dance.
