Days

If Bree was quaint, Herne was..rustic.  Yes, rustic, she decided.  Not unpleasantly so, she was surprised to admit to herself.  The home was appointed nicely, and though not as grand as the last house she had the run of it.  The maid looked at her kindly, without rancor or suspicion beyond that she might cast on any foreigner.

They rode into Bree, together or separately, at least every few days.  Though she took several days, riding out on the lovely dark mare Es had acquired and traded her for one of the stallions, to watch the town from outside.  She did so under the guise of exploring - alone, something a lady of Gondor wouldn't do.  But she wasn't a lady, was she.

She shook the thought with a wry smile as she returned from her excursion, watching the comings and goings of the rustic yet oft-visited town.  So many varieties of people, she as fascinated.  Different styles of dress, or hairstyles.  Of speech.  Of personality.

Even the gathering that she then attended, that began with feelings that rankled for no discernible reason, and ended with the easy dissatisfaction of a failed gathering.  It happened, she knew.  When personalities somehow clashed, and one or more of the company leant themselves to emphasizing the clash instead of easing it.

Fascinating, all the same.  She went back to the house after, her mind going to the handful of people she knew now.  Settling in to life...for now.