The door is a simple wooden affair with leather hinges and a rope holding it shut. The house is made of wood, too, sawn planks fitted together with dowels and caulked with mud. No magic was used here--but the inn across the road, he noticed, has metal hinges.
He knocks tentatively and hears the movement inside. The door opens--a young woman, who might be pretty, might not; it's hard to tell under the bruises and cuts.
"Greetings," she says, in a voice clogged with--what? fear? tears? desperation? She smooths her red-gold hair back and he notices the ears. Half-elf.
"Greetings," he says. "I come to ask leave to sleep in your shack. The manger."
She glances back into the darkness of the hut. Two rooms, maybe three. Dirt floor, rude furniture. Nothing elf-made. "You have no money for the inn?"
"I would rather not see too many people right now." People are confusing: they know who they are, and he does not.
She nods, probably thinking he is a fugitive.
"I can spare you some water, and a bit of elf-loaf, spiced with merrin."
"I can do chores."
"No!" she says quickly. "It would be obvious that I didn't. You don't need to pay me back."
"Fair is fair," he says, echoing Finter. "I'm no thief. I only want to do what is right."
She laughs. "So do I, but it's a long and difficult road to walk. Go now. To the manger. Wait there until after dark."
From across the road come the scents of smoke and wood and roasting meat, and the sounds of laughter and song. He does not know the words, but he knows the tune as he huddles unmoving in the shadows of the manger. If he doesn't move, his buckles and scale don't jingle, and he is suddenly cold, grateful for the warmth his padding gives. Night settles its aged bones.
He barely hears her padding across the grass, but he stands when she arrives. She thrusts a bit of bread and a wooden bowl of water into his hands. "You can use the privy at midnight, when all are asleep," she says.
And then she is gone with a sound like an oaken staff hitting flesh, and she tumbles to the ground. Behind where she stood is a giant of a man--gray-haired and fierce.
"I say who touches my woman and who eats my food!" he roars.
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