Cailiawen listened to the woman she had sat with, and though she did not give her name, Cailiawen listened intently to what she said about a looted cart on the East West Road. So the Hillman bandits come even farther south now, threatening the main road … Cailiawen saw the approach of the woman who kindly invited them both to join Arthalion for breakfast. Cailiawen have her a nod of assent.<br/><br/>Arthalion, that was the name of the Steward of Arnor. Yes, she would attend to this man, for she had questions… many questions of him. His curiosity as to how and why she came to be in Rivendell will be rewarded, though she would most likely choose her timing to when he is not surrounded by so many people of the lands. Cailiawen’s heart was not settled on a path, though she had vowed to hold allegiance to the Dunedain. The traces of Dunedain blood mingled throughout her line from the days of the last Dunedain prince of Rhuadur is not written in the records of elves or men. Any trace of early Rhuadurian records were destroyed when the Library of Fornost was sacked and burned by the armies of the Witch King nearly a millennia before. But the stories were told from generation to generation, and Cailiawen held to her heritage.<br/><br/>Cailiawen arose with the taller half elven woman she had sat with and said,<br/><br/>“I too will accept this generous offer I will hear what he has to say, and will see what he wishes to do.”<br/><br/>Following the woman to the table where others were gathering. Cailiawen heard the last words spoken by the hungry dwarf and tapped the woman she was following and pointed where she was going to sit.  Cailiawen rounded the end of the table to find a place to sit across from the steward Arthalion. Maybe she was out of place to be so bold, but she wanted to sit close to him to hear his words and see his face. Did the tales told at the inns do this man justice, she would find out. Before she sat, She lowered her eyes when he looked up at her, and she curtsied slightly before looking again to him. Their eyes met and read each other even as Cailiawen said,<br/><br/>“I am Cailiawen of Rhuadur, Arnor of old. I should consider this an honour to meet you Arthalion.”<br/><br/>She again lowered her eyes and curtsied, and sat down at the table. She looked over and saw another elven woman looking back She gave a nod and briefly looked at the others. All but the halfling and dwarf were taller then she. Her olive-coloured skin did make her stand out as one of the hill folk, and she could not help feeling awkward, especially dressed in such a fine silken gown the elves had lent her. She smiled and looked over to where the food was. She was quite hungry.