Life in the Mark II (Free RP)

[Fuin Elda]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Trewyn rested her hand on the younger womans shoulder and gave her a gentle but sad smile as Taethowen said she would like to stay with them at least for the night, the tears still fresh in her eyes even as she blinked them away. She knew what it was like to be strong when grieving she had 3 children that she still was mostly looking after when her husband and their father had passed away. She knew that it was hard, and she knew that she would have given anything to have someone she could confide in about the pain of it.

"It will be my honor, and it is not good to be alone at least too much." She said softly she smiled a bit more at the greeting.

"Aye, I am am Ceadda's mother, Trewyn. It is good to meet you Taethowen." She looked at the small bag of food and tucked it into the basket she'd been carrying with the bread and eggs. "I am glad to say that supper involves neither ham, nor sausage, nor potatoes. I do hope you like soup. I currently am making a chicken vegetable soup with some of the first young vegetables from the garden and there is fresh bread." She said as she led Taethowen back towards the Stewards House as the twins came round the corner casing each other and caught sight of their mother and the stranger.

"Taethowen these are my daughters Estrun," She motioned to the twin on the right wearing a green dress, and a big smile, and "Sigerun," Motioning to the other twin wearing blue, she made sure they were dressed in different enough colours so that Taethowen would be able to distinguish the twins at least for today. She wasn't sure about tomorrow but they would see. "Daughters, this is Taethowen Anhyrne, Lady of this estate."

Estrun for her part was happy to meet this new lady and Sigerun looked away shyly, the easiest way to tell the two apart, Estrun would bless her, eventually end up as a shieldmaiden. She was bold and fearless, and Trewyn gave the child a look that only a mother can knowing likely that Estrun would no doubt be asking about if Taethowen would teach her to ride a horse and wield a sword and now was not the time. "Go get the spare room ready for the Lady." She said motioning for them to run inside and do as she said.

"Yes mama!" They chorused and ran inside the house.

"That will hold them off for a bit, come in, I shall make you some tea." She held the door open for Taethowen, the girls foot steps were thundering upstairs to fetch bedding and blankets to make up the bed. The kitchen in the stewards house was much smaller than the main manors but it was clean and smelled of soup, and bread and herbs picked and hung to dry to preserve them for the winter. There was a nice small table with plenty of room for up to six people to sit at it, the last Stewards family had been bigger so their was lots of room for Taethowen to join the four of them.

She put the kettle on to boil and grabbed cups for all five of them as she had no doubt that the girls and then Ceadda once he finished stabling the mare would join them. "Let me know if you would like me to keep the girls from bothering you with their questions I know Estrun will want to know everything about you being the Second Marshall. Sigerun will be quiet likely as she is quite shy." She said softly so that Taethowen could make that decision before the girls finished their task and joined them for tea. For now she had no doubt that the Lady would just be happy for company but she didn't want to overstress her and make her deal with too many questions.

@Taethowen

[Taethowen]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Taethowen followed Trewyn back to the steward's house, listening closely to the woman speak, hoping it would drown out her own thoughts. "Chicken soup sounds wonderful," Taeth confessed, and then did her best to smile as she was introduced to the two young girls. Estrun, Sigerun, she thought. And Trewyn. I need to write all that down so I won't forget.

Trewyn sent them off to prepare a spare bedroom for her, though, before Taeth could verbally greet them, and then ushered Taeth into the house. "Please, there's no need to call me lady," Taeth said. "I am not of noble blood by any means. All of this--" she gestured vaguely, referring to the land and the buildings, and her fortune "--was attained by the blood, sweat, and tears of my ancestors, and myself. Nothing more."

As Trewyn put the kettle on for tea, she quietly asked if Taeth would be bothered by the girls questions later, and she quietly shook her head.

"I'm more than happy to answer a few questions," Taeth said as she set her bags down in what she hoped was an out-of-the-way spot along the wall, then retrieved her journal and pencil. Hauling quill and ink around while traveling would have been a trying fiasco. "Though the circumstances surrounding my recent promotion were... complicated, and some of it is a bit personal, so depending on the particular question, I may refrain from answering."

Taeth settled herself at the table, flipping through her journal to the last blank page, and taking just a moment to run her thumb down the creased edges of the newest addition she carried around with it--the letters Frost had written to her while Thali kept him hidden in the infirmary. Her chest tightened a little as she tried to take a breath. I was such a fool, she thought. I should have gone to see him every night, no matter what, no matter how embarrassed I might have been for Thali to see. No matter how many lectures she might have given me.

Taeth let out a quiet, weary sigh and pulled her thoughts away from yet another unpleasant subject, looking up to where Trewyn was tending the stove.

"Thank you," Taeth said, "for offering me space in your home tonight. I've been... away from the Mark for quite some time, until just recently. But just before I left Edoras to journey here, I was able to meet with a distant cousin of mine... I'd been unable to make contact with my mother and siblings for quite some time, you see. And my cousin brought news that they all apparently passed away in a fire a few years back. She had written to me of the incident, but apparently in my travels, the letter never made it to me...

"Anyway... I thought I would be all right, coming back here. But apparently not. So... thank you."

Before Trewyn had a chance to respond, Ceadda entered the house, though he stopped suddenly in his tracks at the sight of Taethowen sitting at their table. "Di-" he stammered nervously, "did you need something, Mistress Anhyrne?"

"Nothing in particular from you, Ceadda," Taeth tried to smile reassuringly. "I just... needed the warmth of human companionship for a while. I will tell you some of what has transpired later. Though... were there any letters delivered while I was on my way here?"

"Aye, mistress," Ceadda nodded, pulling a stack of folded parchment off a small desk near the door. "I have them here, was going to bring them up to you at the big house just now."

Taeth reached out a hand for the letters as he approached. "Thank you, Ceadda," she smiled, though it felt hollow, as well as the words she continued to speak. "Tomorrow morning, let's go into Coinmheadh. I'll need to hire a few more hands for around the place if we're going to get it properly up and running again."

"Aye, mistress."

"Did Gefyrst cooperate for you?" Taeth asked as she flipped through the letters, opening each to see who had written.

"She did."

"Excellent. I don't need anything else from you for now, so feel free to go about your day."

Taeth could hear Trewyn preparing the tea now, and Ceadda stepped away then. There were three letters, it seemed, though one was especially thick. One from Æthelwigend Grimthain, and she glanced over the lengthy letter, noting that he had indeed had recommendations for who might be a suitable ceorl for her once she reached the Hornburg, and noted that she needed to reply to that letter sooner rather than later. Then a letter from the dwarf lady at the jewelry shop. Taeth couldn't help but laugh softly at the number of business cards contained within it.

The last letter was from Shivased. This was the one that was oddly thick, and as Taeth opened it up all the way, a second packet of letters fell out onto the table. She picked it up, and her brow furrowed as she read a name, followed by the address of Braiarwood Estate. Curious, she picked up the letter addressed to her, skimming over the contents, and letting out a soft laugh as she reached the end of it. "I hadn't realized the First Marshal's home was so near to mine," she whispered.

There was no letter from Thali, though, and she tried not to be too disappointed.

Quickly, she jotted down the names of Ceadda's family in her journal, and the responses she needed to make for the letters in the morning, and then neatly stacked everything to the side as Trewyn brought the tea over.

@Fuin Elda

[Taethowen]

Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma


Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras

Sighard looped the reins around his mare's saddle horn, nodding as Sheemie said he would walk toward the back of the group. The mare would follow slowly behind them on her own. Bambu placed himself with Sheemie, then.

He finally learned the Fool's name, Wamba, and soon Sighard had fallen in step with the rest of the men as they traversed the river's bank. Wamba began to sing at some point, and for a change Sighard was grateful that the silence was filled. This was a terribly odd bunch of a search party, and if he hadn't felt obligated to investigate as a member of the Cavalry, he probably would have tried to bow out. But what sense of honor he had demanded that he stay, no matter how uncomfortable he might find it.

Even his own heart grew a little heavy, though, as the group grew closer and closer to the spot where he'd left the dead boy covered in his cloak, uncertain of what the fate of the rest of the children might be.

@Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Wamba_the_Fool

[Fuin Elda]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold


Trewyn tilted her head slightly and gave a chuckle under her breath at Taethowen made the comment about being willing to answer a few questions from the girls. Clearly Taeth had never been around children that she would think there would only be a few questions, perhaps if she was meaning per breath.

Time slipped by and as the sun went down and Ceadda came in just as Trewyn finished setting the table for the five of them, she also added a few boiled eggs as well as bread and butter to the table, Sigerun for her part was quiet as a mouse, not surprising at all Estrun however did exactly as Trewyn figured she would. Most of her questions were about how she could learn to fight with a sword, how soon she could join the cavalry everything about learning to fight. At the end of the meal Trewyn almost felt bad about the questions about battle, at least it wasn't about her family something that Trewyn knew would likely be a sore spot for the woman. As the girls were finishing cleaning up Sigerun came up quietly as Taethowen was sitting comfortably relaxing at the table, and Trewyn was about to shoo them upstairs to get ready for bed when Sigerun looked at her and asked her about when she would be getting more horses for the big stable and if she could help her brother with them. And Trewyn paused, she knew the girl loved horses and always was about the families two horses, one a heavier draft for work the other for riding.

Trewyn for her part let Taeth answer the question as she knew her daughter would be endlessly be wanting to join her brother in the stable, while that was getting answered she sent Estrun upstairs told her to get ready for bed and that her sister would be joining her shortly. Ceadda looked like he was planning on staying awake as well, and she shooed him off as well.

"But-" The look she gave him stopped him in his tracks, her eyes widening slightly and her head tilting up and slight to the side her eyes staying fixed on him as her eyebrows raised.. "Women." He muttered and left the kitchen, leaving the both Taeth and Trewyn along with the quiet crackle of the fire in the kitchen hearth. They sat silently for a long time Trewyn waiting for Taeth to speak, not knowing where she would want to begin.

@Taethowen

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba and Sheemie Rheus

Bambu led the column of searchers along the southern bank of the Snowbourn. His pace was sure and steady, keeping the horses at a light canter, and the Forgoils on foot at a brisk trot. The Wildman held up a hand as they neared the tree where he'd discovered Rustman's child, the ngani, Léo-inkosi.

"Sangoma," he said to the man with the silver charms tied in his hair (Wamba). "Speak with ancestors, take shape good animals. Them healer, far-seer, tracker through life and time. Like you? Go there, by willow tree. I find child in roots. Look for marks to help… Take others with you and wait… Bambu go by water, look-see if other small ones walked there."

The Wildman returned a short time later and knelt by the place he'd found baby Léo. He lowered his head to root and earth, and passed his stubby fingers gently over the ground.

"Others were here… three or even four. One big child… maybe ten summers. They go to river. There tracks in sand. They not come other side. Ground there clean. I think water take them…"

Bambu stood and addressed the Strawhead (Sighard) that had taken command of their search party. "Where you find broken child… dead ngani? Take us there."

Sheemie Rheus uttered a loud sigh, and wrung his gardening hat in his beefy hands. They was going to see another dead person - Sheemie's of the day. He found himself worrying about Beda, and the fate of the other bairns. "Please let it only be one!" he said to no-one in particular, as the little column moved off.

And then to the sköldpadda he so often dreamed of: "Just the one, for a pretty-sai!"

--
@Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Wamba the Fool

Reverently the Fool trod the ground 'neath the willow tree. Found the child in the roots, he mused. So the life-drinkers became life-cradlers, and a life-taker became a life-saver.

He did earnestly look for marks, but found nothing he thought was of any significance. And all the while his mind-fingers were turning Bambu's Sangoma over and over, feeling the ridges and age: "Speak with ancestors, take the shape of good animals... Healers, far-see-ers... trackers through life; trackers through time."

The wild-man returned, found words in the warp and weft of the earth, and then asked to be taken to the dead bairn. The Fool followed, in hopes of finding... what, Wamba my lad?

[Lail]

Lailyn’s house/vicinity with Æric
The gentle press of his hand on her arm and the warmth she felt in it chased away any last thoughts of leaving. There was a quiet strength about him, she thought, to tell her this story and to stay when she gave him the option to leave. It was encouraging if he could surpass his loss she knew she would, too. After all, life had thrown worse things her way and she was still here.

She dipped her head in a shallow nod and managed a weak smile in return. The slight curl of his lips didn’t lighten his face quite the same way the broad, carefree smile she’d seen yesterday had, the one that sent a nervous warmth through her, but she was still glad to see it.

A broken heart was never a silly thing, she might have argued, but she didn’t want to dwell on it, so she stuck to her word and took the pie from him. It was nothing short of delicious. “I'm glad I didn’t miss out on this," she said after swallowing a few bites. And that you stayed were words thought but left unsaid.

"I can tell you it's much better than what I ate earlier. The food...and the company,” she said with a shy smile after she finished the pie and brushed the crumbs from her hands. “I’ve eaten so many meals alone lately, it’s nice to share with someone,” she confessed. “Thank you..for asking me.”

[Taethowen]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Trewyn's chicken soup was delicious, and while Taeth felt she made a good soup herself, there was always something comforting about food one did not have to make for oneself.

To be honest, her appetite had waned quite a bit as she traveled from Edoras to Anorien, and while her travel foods had become monotonous rather quickly, she suspected rather that it was grief tying her stomach in knots and turning food to dust as she swallowed it.

But eating with people, and being distracted from her feelings by Estrun's onslaught of questions, helped her to eat more in one sitting than she had since, well... since Frost had cooked for her that second night they spent together in Edoras. She just wished she'd know it would be their last night before all the chaos of the fires and then... his sudden departure.

Estrun's questions had made her think harder than she had in a while, but she was grateful that it was about a relatively safe topic.

Taeth was certain she'd lost some esteem in Estrun's eyes when she confessed that her swordsmanship skills were the most lacking; that she preferred knives and arrows herself.

Taeth had faltered slightly when the topic of the questions turned to battle and war, glancing at Trewyn to judge the woman's reaction to her daughter's line of questioning. She had no qualms in answering those sorts of questions, but she knew some parents did not wish for their children to hear of such matters. Trewyn, though, seemed unphased, and when the question of have you killed someone unfolded naturally from the topic, Taeth had done her best to be tactful and age-appropriate, but still honest.

"I have fought in battle. So yes, I have killed. Killing someone is not something to be proud of," Taeth had answered. "No matter the differences between you and them, they were still a person, and you may never know what truly led them to engage you on the battlefield. But killing to protect those you love--or to protect yourself--is not a an action to be ashamed of either."

Taeth was relieved, though, when the questions at that point turned to the logistics of joining the Cavalry. Estrun's disappointment at learning one had to be at least sixteen years of age to join had been nearly palpable.

Sigerun hadn't opened up until after dinner, and Taeth had smiled--just a little sadly--when asked about the horses. "Hopefully soon," she'd answered. "One of your brother's tasks has been to start tracking down some of the horse stock that might be descended from the ones my father and I raised here. Depending on what he's found, perhaps we'll have filled some of the empty stalls before I must return to Edoras. And I see no reason why you can't help in the stables, whenever your mother doesn't mind."

It wasn't long after that when Trewyn shooed all the children to bed, including Ceadda, and the look on her young steward's face would have amused Taeth if the silent dread of night with its lack of distractions for a heart and mind churning with grief had not already started to weigh upon her.

She was a little surprised when Trewyn sat back down at the table across from her, and Taeth fiddled with her hands in her lap for a while, uncertain of what to say.

Perhaps the beginning.

"My father died when I was about your girls' age," Taeth finally broke the silence. "I don't recall why we were in the Westfold, rather than here at the estate, but I do remember that we were on our way back here when he fell ill. My sister and brother were both quite a bit younger than me, and didn't really have any memories of him.

"Sometime in the next few years, my mother remarried. She and I never really... got along well. I think I reminded her too much of my father, and then to compound matters, I did not get along with her new husband. Especially after he found out that I was the one who inherited the estate, not my mother.

"Eventually, after some years of misery, I relinquished control of the estate to my mother and stepfather, and left to join the Cavalry. While I was in the Cavalry, the first time, I ended up adopting a son from Gondor, during a time when Gondor had called for aid from Rohan again. Not long after our return to the Mark from that campaign, I was promoted to Third Marshal, and I married a young man in the Cavalry who I had grown close to."

Taeth paused here, reaching up to rub her face with her hands, unsure of why she was spilling all of this out to Trewyn, except that she'd been struggling to make sense of everything that had transpired, especially since she'd returned to the Mark. The only person she'd come remotely close to discussing this with was Frost, and now he was gone to who knew where for who knew how long, and Culfinwen had practically disappeared during the Summer Festival, and Thali... who knew what was going on with Thali, other than that the two of them seemed to not be able to find the time to actually sit down and talk despite trying to do so several times.

When Taeth lowered her hands again, her eyes were wet with tears, but she brushed them away quickly, before she took a deep breath and began to speak again.

"It feels like that is where my life began to crumble. Right on the cusp of everything that should have been good and hopeful, and instead I ended up losing... everything.

"Within just a couple years of our marriage, distant kin of the boy I'd adopted finally surfaced, and I had to return him to them in Gondor. On my return journey, I fell ill, nearly to the point of death, and while I survived mostly physically unscathed... my memory was affected. You'll see me taking notes often because of this.

"It ended up being a decade before I returned to the Mark, although I could have returned within a few years. But even then, though I maintained contact with my husband, our marriage was crumbling. He was a good man, but... I don't think either of us were truly ready for marriage at that point, and I think in the end he was intimidated by how independent I was. When I returned to the Mark, and to the house we shared in Edoras, there was no sign of him. Not even a goodbye note.

"It was also during this time that I lost contact with my family, except for my cousin. And when she and I reunited in Edoras, just before I departed for here, she told me that my mother, my stepfather, and my siblings... they were all gone."

She sighed wearily then, unsure of what else to say then. The... tumultous affair with Frost was part of what weighed heavily on her, but so much of that--especially his departure--she couldn't speak of. But it felt dishonest not to speak of it at all.

"I was... briefly involved with someone, in Edoras," she confessed. "And my heart is torn because right now I'm not sure if the greater grief I feel is for my family, or for the sudden... inconclusive ending of that relationship.

"He is someone who is probably not good for me, but he seemed like someone who would not be intimidated by my independence. But... circumstances worked against us, and I worry that I made him think I wanted too much from him, especially so soon. When all I wanted was a chance. A chance to get to know him, without any illusions or dishonesty in the way, and Bema's horn--" Taeth's voice broke here as she let out a sobbing laugh"--even as I say it, it sounds ridiculous. I know enough of who he truly is to know that my position within Rohan right now would not allow for that."

Taeth bit her lip as she fixed her gaze on the table. She was... crossing too many boundaries. And yet... there was something about Trewyn's demeanor that reassured Taeth.

"I'm sorry if this is out of line," Taeth whispered, glancing up at the other woman. "I just... I came back to Rohan because I thought this was home. And now I'm finding that I don't even know what home is anymore, whether it's Rohan or... elsewhere."

@Fuin Elda

[Fuin Elda]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Trewyn sat back quietly waiting, and eventually Taeth started, and the story tumbled out of her, like a waterfall that had been held back for far too long. She felt her heart breaking for the Second Marshall; this woman she had only met. Aside from occasionally nodding, she stayed quiet and poured some more tea for the both of them. She listened intently, leaning forward holding the younger womans hand until she continued. It was a long and painful unfolding and when she finally did finish Trewyn stood up slowly and moved over to beside Taeth and gently wrapped her arms around her and pulled her against her body and stroked her hair.

"You were not out of line," she said softly. "I can't begin to imagine what you've been through when the amount of sorrow in my life has been so much less than yours, but I can say that it sounds very much like you need a mother, and you need a home." She licked her lips and gently pushed the woman away from her and took her face in one hand and wiped away the tears and gave her a sad smile. "I am not old enough to be your actual mother, but I am going to tell you something that I would tell my daughters if they came to me with this..." She took a deep breath and looked into Taeths eyes. "Home is a lot more than just the house that your father gave you, and I am sorry for the lost of your family especially your siblings I am sure they are in the halls of your forefathers though what comfort that is to you I don't know. I was a wife, and am a mother, I tend animals and gardens and my children I make my home with sweat and laughter and a lot of tea and bread." She said with a tearful laugh her own breath shaking and raggedy from trying to keep herself from crying.

"I only know that you have given myself and my children a new home, after the death of their father our home became a house after years of it being a home. I will never have song sung of me, I will never go to those halls as a warrior, and I can't be your mother, and I--I don't know if I can help heal your heart, but if I can ease your heart at all, or make you feel like this little Stewards house that you've given us is a home where you are safe, were you know that if you need to talk you can, or have a meal, or cry, or teach my daughters how to use a blade and how to breed horses to keep your mind from its dark paths." There were tears in her eyes and she looked at Taethowen closely for several moments longer before she hugged the Second Marshall tightly to herself.

@Taethowen

[Winddancer]

Æric with Lailyn

The tension that had built up in his body at all the bad memories slowly eased as Lailyn smiled and accepted the pie. At least that was the reason he told himself, though a part of his brain niggled at him letting him know that obviously the tension was because he had been worrying that she would not stay and finish her lunch and not the memories that had made him tense. Still, he smiled wider drawing in a deep breath and taking another pie for himself, turning to face the stream as he quietly ate it.

His eyes flicked to her as she spoke, smiling once more and nodding in agreement. While his heart ached at the memories that had just assaulted him yet again, it was as if they were lessened somehow. Whether it was because he for the first time ever had shared them with someone, or if it was just her non judgemental company that did it he did not know, but either way the hurt was less than before, now actually able to breathe freely for the first time in ages. He surmised that the hurt would always be with him, however if it could lessen with time then he stood a chance at being able to live again and that in itself was something to hope for.

He caught the shy smile as she spoke of the food and the company and froze, his hand pausing just in front of his mouth with the last of his pie. Goosebumps skittered across his arms and down his back, his cheeks going a darker shade than before as they heated up. He barely heard what she said next, the image of that smile still playing in his mind and tormenting him. He had to force himself to snap out of it before he started looking ridiculous frozen in the spot like this and carelessly pushed the final bite of the pie into his mouth, chewing it slowly so that he had time to gather his confused thoughts. Why was his stomach somersaulting?

"You are welcome.." he managed, his throat tight. Trying to rid himself of the hoarseness he drank some of the water from the waterskin, coughing slightly to clear it completely. "It does also make the food taste better.." he offered with a small smile of his own that reached his eyes. "Though it does also help it isn't burnt.." like his food usually was, much to Edda's annoyance.

[Taethowen]

Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma


Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras

Sighard waited by the tree with Wamba and Sheemie as Bambu investigated the river bank. His gaze couldn't help but wander further down river, where the dead child lay. He could hear Sheemie sighing and muttering, and while he felt some compassion for the man, he had no words of comfort to offer. There were not, really, any words that would suffice even if he knew them.

"Where you find broken child... dead ngani?" Bambu addressed him then. "Take us there."

Sighard nodded, and led them downriver another quarter mile, mulling over the Dunlending's words. Others were here... three or even four. One big child... maybe ten summers. He looked ahead, relieved to see that the child's body was still undisturbed and fully covered beneath his Cavalry cloak. This one was probably the big child.

Glancing at Sheemie to judge the man's reaction, because clearly he was anxious about viewing a dead body, Sighard spoke. "When I found the items left behind at the tree, I spotted a blanket on the far river bank as well. So I made the decision to keep searching down river, and I found the boy tangled in the branches of the tree in the river." He pointed toward the tree as he came up beside the child's body.

"My guess is that this boy is the oldest one," Sighard motioned at the covered corpse. "He seemed to be around nine or ten years old."

Sighard looked over to Sheemie, then. "Can you identify him for us? I think he hit his head in the river, before he died. His face is peaceful." He waited to remove the cloak from the boy's face till Sheemie could answer.

@Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Wamba_the_Fool

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba and Sheemie Rheus

Bambu walked behind the Forgoil (Sighard) on his tall horse. The Wildman looked for signs of the small ones as they travelled a path through the sedge that lined the river bank. He found nothing of consequence, and when they reached the cloak-covered body (Almod) gave it only a cursory glance.

There were marks on the earth around the dead ngani, spoer from the feet of two horses, but none that spoke to him of the passage of children.

“Bambu look to river for signs,” he said to the searchers. “That big tree is where you found dead boy, yes? Bambu start there. He go down water and look-see. He find you here soon.”

Sheemie watched the Dunlending wade out toward the fallen tree; it was better than looking at the still shape covered by the green cloak of a cavalry-soljer. There was a dead boy under that cloak – Beda’s brother. The burly lad choked back a sob and looked over at Sighard.

“I don’t want to, sir,” Sheemie said, his belly churning at the tall Rider’s words. “Not if he’s banged his head and is all bloody and bruised – lawks, no! But I suppose I has to - identify him, I mean – for my Beda-sweoster’s sake.”

Sheemie shambled over to Sighard and the man with the bells in his hair (Wamba) He drew a deep breath as he hunkered beside the swaddled corpse, but his hands fell limp at his sides.

“I’m ready to look, sirs,” he said “One of youse will have lift the cape, Sheemie can’t do it… Let’s make it quick!”

--
@Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

Four leagues downriver of Edoras: A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPCs ~ Symond Beorma & Bran Wænnfót

Bran climbed the hill to the hut around midday. He held two damaged fishing traps in one hand, and his wet leather shoes in the other. Halfway up the green slope he caught the sign of movement on the far side of the ramshackle abode.

He frowned, and quickened his pace."Hi, onkel!" he called, holding the fishing traps up in a token of greeting.

Symond turned from the door of the woodshed and scowled at his nephew. "What you been at? You were needed here." the fisherman growled, giving the padlock another futile tug. "Why've you barred the shed?"

"Onkel, onkel!" the boy replied with a silky smile, a smile that Symond didn't much care for. "Is not the safekeeping of our valuables one of my duties?"

There it was - that smile again - a grin that creased the boy's face with good cheer, but never quite found his eyes. A sound clout would wipe the cheek from the pert cull's ruddy chops.

But, looking now at the lad that leant against the shed door, Symond deemed the trashing days were over. The boy stood a head taller than him now, and his shoulders were broad and muscled.

"It is, aye," Symond said grudgingly, "But not the only chores you're set." The fisherman wrenched his gaze from his nephew, and cast a bleary eye over the nets and tackle he'd worked on that morning.

"I cry pardon, onkel," Bran said. "I've spent the morning scouring the river for what could be salvaged from the rainstorm. Not much I’m afraid, just these two traps – and they’re in need of repair. But I’ve found something else… something I’m sure is apt to please you.”

The lad held up the fishing traps and grinned as his uncle’s dour face lit up in wonder.

“A barbel!” Symond said, taking in the fish in the trap, and his nephew’s damp clothing for the first time. “Didja harpoon him? Where?”

“Aye, just as you showed me, onkel,” Bran chuckled. "In a pool below the falls… Get yourself inside and take a load of those tired bones. I’ll make a fire-pit and cook him just the way you like!”

Symond wrenched his eyes from the fish and looked at his nephew suspiciously. But the moment soon passed, the thought of a chair beside the fire, and tasty catfish to follow, brooked no argument.

Bran waited until his uncle had vanished into the cottage, and for several minutes more while the old sot got himself comfortable. Then he grinned his special smile, slipped the woodshed lock and went to check on the sleeping girl (Lida).

---
@Eléowyn

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Wamba the Fool

Pity pooled in the pied man's eyes
Mildly he moved, moved in mien
Revealed the dead bairn's face right reverently
Showed shy Sheemie the sheen of his brow

[Lail]

Lailyn with Æric
The stream bubbled merrily along as if nothing bad had ever happened in the wider world and a soft wind rose up, lacing its fingers through the leaves of the trees. Despite the breeze, it felt quite warm all of a sudden. With an absent touch, she tugged up the ends of her sleeves. When she noticed the slight flush on his face, she pointedly looked away to give him a moment. Lailyn wondered if she had been too familiar. If he felt the same tenuous thread between them that she did...but no. That couldn’t be it.

When she looked back, there it was. The smile that made her heart flutter and squeeze tight all at once. Even after having said just moments ago that she would not repeat her mistake. But there was something that drew her in when his blue eyes lit up like that and she found herself captive to his gaze, unable to look away. Somehow she remembered how to breathe and speak.

"Well that helps, too," she agreed with a soft laugh. "I think you will have to introduce me to this Caddrick or his mother at least. I wonder if she wouldn't mind sharing her recipe with me. I'm not sure mine will be half as good but I'd like to give it a try...once I can use my kitchen again of course." She flashed him a grin and then her next words burst out before she could stop herself. "Once it's all done, I'd be happy to have you and Edda come by for dinner sometime if you like."

Her throat suddenly felt dry and she swallowed, certain her cheeks were now colouring. Her eyes drifted down and focused on the grass sweeping over the edge of the stream. Excited about her new home, she would happily invite half the city if she could and yet asking him making her stomach twist in knots. "I mean only if you want to...I'm sure you're still busy settling in and you must have a lot to do…" she mumbled in a half-hearted attempt to backtrack a bit in case she had been too bold.

[Winddancer]

Æric with Lailyn

She might not have caught how his eyes widened at the offer of coming over for dinner as she lowered hers to the ground. Looking at her profile, he caught how her cheeks seemed to suddenly glow as colour rushed to them and again his stomach somersaulted, though this time it was followed by his heart skipping a beat as well. Confused by his feelings, he raised a hand and absentmindedly rubbed at his scars, his brows knitting together in thought. He found that he wanted to accept immediately before she changed her mind, though her reaction to having asked it in the first place made him hesitate. Was she regretting having asked him? Or was she feeling.. No.. surely not.

"Uh.. thank you, that is very generous of you.." His throat locked up and prevented him from either accepting or declining, not wanting to assume either was the case in case he guessed the wrong one. If she really wanted him and Edda to come over for dinner, she would ask again. Right? And if not, she could let it lie and pretend to have forgotten if need be.

"Speaking of, we best get back. That floor won't finish itself and I would like to see if I can finish all of it today." He let out a small cough as he turned his head towards the remnants of the picnic and started packing it up, really wishing that the job would last way longer so that he had a reason to come by more. Damn his need to me quick and efficient.

Once all of it was packed he jumped nimbly to his feet and extended a hand down towards Lailyn offering to help her up, a small smile playing on his lips as he knew well that she could get up without his help.

[The Good Hunter]

Who's Your Daddy?

(Private with Moriel)

A touch on the hand. Walpurga registered to contact, but only just. Her mind seemed to go numb as soon as the tears began to fall. Soon she was enveloped in a hug. A hug. It had been years, years since she felt a hug. She tensed at first. The embrace felt unnatural, unwarranted. Her muscles tensed almost to the point of pain. It had been so long since someone showed her that kind of genuine affection that she had no idea what to do. But he held on. Slowly, the Rohir began to melt. The warmth from the hug, not just the physical warmth of his body but the emotional as well, began to thaw that feeling of unworthiness away until she nearly collapsed into his arms. She felt weak all the sudden. The nervous energy that had sustained her until now had completely exhausted itself. Her limbs felt leaden and heavy. Her eyes, too, felt heavy. Still, the tears flowed. The dam that had held for so long, for years in Benton and for weeks and weeks here in Edoras. But all it took in the end is a still, quiet question to destroy it all.

“Whatever grieves you, you can overcome.”

She felt those words more than heard them. She looked up at him (something that, with her height, was a rarity) and a flood of questions came to her lips.

Whatever grieves me? I can’t even name all the things that grieve me. I don’t understand what’s going on around me. I can’t open up to anyone. I can’t reveal the inner parts of me to even a friendly face. I can’t figure out what it is I want, or what I can do. I don’t know who I am. How can I overcome any of that? All the pieces of my life are from the wrong game board. How can I overcome something when I don’t even know what I have to overcome?

Instead of voicing these doubts though, Walpurga remained silent. She tried to take in a breath, a relief from the tears but her lungs shuddered with the effort and she collapsed back into Kamion.

Numbly, she allowed herself to be led back to the inn. She couldn’t remember the route she’d taken on her flight from the inn, but the route they now took in return felt longer. She felt like they were moving through a fog, each step she took felt like an effort, as if she was marching through molasses. The sounds of the street and the sounds of the inn were muffled. She could hear words being said, the clopping of horses, the barking of dogs, and the rush of wind but it all felt a thousand leagues away from her. The edges of her vision were tinged with red, her peripheral vision was limited to only that that was directly in front of her. Had the Dúnedain not been there, she would have collapsed on the street, but his strength held her fast.

When she sat down, she fell like a sack of potatoes. For a long moment, Walpurga couldn’t look up. She felt too ashamed, too embarrassed by her foolishness. The tears had slowed, thankfully the chest wracking sobs hadn’t lasted long. She sniffed, wiped her nose, then tried to wipe the moisture from her eyes.

Her eyes stung. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up. His face was so kind. So, so unlike most of the faces she had seen in her life. His eyes, they were blue but a different blue from hers, and they were filled with a kind of kindness. His words, too, were kind, even if they were going to lead to another flood of words she couldn’t control.

“I… I came here, to Edoras, to, to join the Cavalry. I thought it was something I wanted. I do want. Maybe. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what I want. I barely even know who I am!” She swallowed another lump in her throat. “I was wrong. I was wrong. The entire world is moving so fast around me. I don’t know what’s going on. I know just that… that I’m so lonely. I… I thought Edoras would be different. But it’s not. It’s worse that Benton. Everyone has their own lives and their own problems and their own dreams. I’ve tried to fit in. I’ve tried to make myself a part of the group but they just… they don’t see me. I’m invisible, or I might as well be. I try to live my own life then. I try to live the way I wanted to live when I was in Benton, free of burden and expectations, but even that is crushing. I can’t do it anymore. I pretend like, like I don’t need anyone, but I do. I need someone. Anyone. But… I don’t know how. I don’t know how do it. My mother… my mother hates me because I borrowed a book that “my father” gave her but she can’t read so why is it so bad that I took it? She hates him and that book but she keeps it around. Why? Bema only knows. I took it to learn to read and she said I was just as bad as he was. That I’m rude and arrogant and good for nothing. She said I was a taker and that I’d done nothing but take my entire life and I probably planned on abandoning her as soon as I could. And you know what? That part she was right about. I was stupid and selfish to try and come here, to come to Edoras where no one even bloody knows I exist! I’m the worst! I did exactly what she said I’d do. I’m a horrible daughter. I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I was going to die, waste away but, but, but I should have stayed. I should have to prove her wrong. I know that sounds stupid and idiotic and it probably is but I just don’t know anything. I couldn’t stay and I couldn’t go. I saw you today and… and… I thought it was far fetched but maybe, if you were my father somehow I could get answers. But you’re not. And I’ll never get those answers. Who knows who he actually was. Maybe he’s dead. Is that bad? I’ve never met him but I’m not sad that he might be dead. What does that say about me? Am I really as bad as he was, is? I hope not. I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be like my mother either. I just… I don’t know who I am, but I know who I don’t want to be. But I don’t know where I can do it. I can’t go back to Benton. I can’t… I mean, I have to stay here but I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I just… I feel so lost and alone. I see a sea of faces all around me and not a single one but yours has even looked at me. I’m sorry I ambushed you then ran off like a frightened goat…”

Finally, mercifully, she trailed off into silence then returned her gaze to her hands in her lap.

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

* BEWARE ~ DEAD CHILD AND EXTREME REACTION FOLLOWS *

South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPC ~ Sheemie Rheus

The man with the bells in his hair (Wamba) moved first. Sheemie was awful glad of that, for the feller had kindly eyes, and kindly eyes meant a kind heart. It was right that someone kind should uncover the face of the dead bairn. Sheemie screwed his eyes closed as the Fool’s hands reached out for the green cloak.

Maybe it's not Almod! Maybe some other poor kiddie got hisself broke by the river?

Silver bells tinkled merrily above the ceaseless chatter of the Snowbourn. Sheemie heard the swish of the cloak, and winced as a waft of sour air fanned his face. Be brave, Sheemie, it will just take a moment… Be strong for Beda, you're one of the White.

But he didn't feel strong, or brave, he could hear his tummy grumbling and feel hot sweat upon his broad forehead. "One… two… FOUR!" Sheemie's eyes flew open and he uttered a strangled gasp.

The boy didn't look peaceful at all, far from it. The lad’s face was white from his time in the water, pale like a poached fish, and a jackdaw’s egg seemed to be nestling in the blonde hair above his right brow. Worst of all were the bairn’s dead eyes: the left stared blankly into the sky, the right seemed to droop in an awful wink.

That’s not an egg! It’s a bump, all blue and motley, that’s what kilt him! Almod IS DEAD! Oh, lawks, he was only half as old as me… what if the other chillens are dead too? What was to become of the Beda-sweoster?

Sheemie’s belly gave an awful lurch, he leapt up and stumbled away from the uncovered corpse. He had the presence of mind to move back along the searchers’ recent trail, the sense to know he mustn’t disturb or defile the dead boy or any clues left on the ground.

Sheemie was brought to a halt by the tangled reeds and grasses that lined the pathway. He threw back his head. "That's him!" Sheemie howled, a beefy finger pointing at the prostate form. "That's Almod, Beda's broeder… Cover him up, quick!"

Before either of his companions could react, Sheemie doubled over, and spewed a gaudy plume of half-digested breakfast into the sedge.

--
@Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool @Sally (Taeth)

[Calimir]

Outside the Infirmary Tent at Edoras
>>> @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool @Taethowen @Aodh Hammerhelm

Cal' held Nuthatch's reins and helped Beda up onto the horse's back. He climbed up after his friend and looked down the hill to the river.

He wasn't sure which way the search party had gone. Had they crossed the ford or had they gone away up the bank on this side of the river? He thought about the conversations on the hill by the ford, and what Sighard and Bambu had said. He was pretty sure they'd found Leo and the dead boy on the town side.of the Snowbourn.

"Are you ready Beda?" he said to his friend. "If you are let's go. We'll start searching on this side of the ford."

[Taethowen]

Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma


Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras

Bambu parted from them to search near the river, and even Sighard--for all his facade of stoicism--could not help but feel a pang of pity for Sheemie. He faltered, then, for even if he'd not known either of the lads before, he'd known death.

Wamba moved before he could, bending down and folding back the cloak from the dead boy's face.

Sheemie did not react well, and even Sighard winced as the boy--close to his own age it seemed, but clearly of a gentler mind than Sighard--turned and lost his breakfast.

Almod. That's what Sheemie said the boy's name was, and Sighard tugged the cloak from Wamba's hand and covered the boy's face again. Ferthu Almod hal, he thought silently. Be at peace.

Sighard wasn't one who knew words of comfort to give--no one had ever been there to offer him comfort, and so the skill had never been learned--and he quietly stepped away from Wamba and Sheemie, turning to see if Bambu was still nearby or was returning with some new information.

@Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Wamba_the_Fool @Calimir

(OOC: Sorry for my late response folks, the last several days ended up being difficult on various fronts. Also, @Aodh Hammerhelm, seriously pretty sure Almod was not in that bad of a state when Sighard pulled him from the river. )

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

@Sally OOC: (I was a Scene of Crime Tech for 15 years and can say with confidence that Death (like beauty) is very much in the eye of the beholder )

[Eléowyn]

Outside the Infirmary, heading toward the river: NPC Beda

They were now both astride the horse, and Beda was anxious to be off. “Yes,” she agreed with Cal’s assessment of where to start. “I think we should return to the last place we saw the Wild Man and the others. The ground is still wet from last night’s rain, so hopefully we can follow their trail.”

Cal wasted no time in urging Nuthatch forward. Once they reached the mound where Bambu had held Léo aloft, Beda suggested they dismount. “I know nothing of tracking,” she said, “I have barely ever even left the city gates. But it looks to me like the grass is trampled going in that direction.” Here she pointed downriver.

The day was fair, the sky a brilliant blue, and only a very slight breeze. As they walked along the river’s edge, Beda could have sworn she heard the faint tinkling of bells.

@Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool @Aodh Hammerhelm @Sally

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

South bank of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPCs ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba & Sheemie Rheus

The Wildman made his way back toward the Forgoils. He carried in his hands the things he'd found downriver, the tokens that told that the brethren of Rustman had been taken by the hungry waters of the river.

In the distance towards the hill of the big-house-town, and behind the Strawheads by the dead ngani, the Dunlending spotted an oncoming horse. His eyes were good, sharpened by years on the hunt, but he did not need long sight to know that one of the riders was the nkosazana, the daughter of Rustman with her golden hair. Bambu quickened his pace, breaking into long strides until he reached the waiting search party.

"Hawu!" he called in greeting to the trio. "You, Moon-face! Come to Bambu, quick-quick!" Sheemie looked at the Wild feller in consternation for a moment, then hurried over to him. "You know these things?" the Dunlending said, holding out strips of a tattered night dress and a hank of blonde hair. "Bambu find them in water... by tree in river, and by place of growling rocks. They Forgoil things... ngani things. One gone with water... maybe two."

Sheemie's eyes were blurred with tears, he rubbed hard at them, which only made things worse. "Sorry Wild feller," he said. "Sheemie's eyes are all fuzzy... M-O-O-N that spells OUT OF FOCUS, don't you knowed it. Give me a moment."
"No time! Rustman-daughter she come. Bambu see her on horse. Look quick!"

Sheemie dug out has handkerchief, looked over at Sighard and Wamba sheepishly, and dabbed his eyes. Let these things be Almod's... let the other bairns still be safe... But, of course, his wish, like others that morning, was not granted.

The brawny lad's shoulders shook as he focused on the white cloth held in the Wild feller's hands. A piece of white cloth meant nothing, a strip of white cloth could be a lost sheet or a bit of sail from fishing boat. But a tress of blonde hair and a bit of cloth with a small flowers sewed on the edge meant one thing and one thing only...

"Lida!" Sheemie hooted in alarm. "That's Lida's nightdress for sure! Where is she, Wild feller? Please don't make Sheemie do another identification!"

"Sorry Moon-face! Hush-hush!" Bambu said, grasping Sheemie's shoulder as he turned his attention to the other Forgoils. "Lida-sister, gone too... Water take her. Bambu find no tracks of her or other small ones. River take them far-far. To wide fan of Entwash, nganis go - maybe to Great River and big salt water beyond."

---
@Calimir @Sally @Wamba_the_Fool
---

Four leagues downriver of Edoras: A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPCs ~ Bran Wænnfót & Symond Beorma

Bran exited the woodshed, closed the door with his foot, and reset the padlock. There was no sign of his uncle – still scoffing catfish, no doubt! – and the fire pit had burned down low.

The lad tossed a rusty pair of shears atop Symond’s untidy pile of tools and loped toward the hut. In one hand he held a bulging pillowcase, in the other two earthen quart bottles.

Bran paused at the hut entrance, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom within. He stood and watched as his uncle chowed down on his luncheon, and grinned his hatefully happy smile.

---
@Eléowyn

[Calimir]

South bank of the Snowbourn river

Beda might have had a terrible shook but she was thinking clearly. Cal' climbed down from Nuthatch and walked along behind her. You didn't have to be a Ranger to see the footprints along the river bank, the grass was wet from the rain and Cal' could see that several people had trampled it.

The lad from Gondor marched along quietly behind his friend until they reached a place thick with reeds. Cal' was quite a bit taller than Beda and he could see a group of men in the distance. One was definitely Sheemie with his shaggy blond head and wide shoulders. The other two looked like Riders. Cal's face became grim. There was something, or somebody, lying near the Riders.

He tapped Beda on the shoulder and handed her Nuthatch's reins. "Wait here a moment, Beda," Cal' said to his friend. "There are folks ahead and I want to make sure they're friends, not a bunch of no-goods or Wildmen that aren't friendly like that Bambu fellow." The lad from Gondor stepped into the reeds just as Bambu walked towards the three men. "Stay here, friend," he said over his shoulder to Beda. "I'll call you if it's safe."

Cal' hurried forward and saw he'd made the right decision. There was a body covered with a cloak by the men's feet (Sighard & Wamba) and he heard Bambu saying something about other children taken by the flood

“Beda’s in the reeds behind me,” Cal’ said to the search party. “Be gentle with her!”

>>> @Aodh Hammerhelm @Wamba_the_Fool @Sally

[Eléowyn]

South bank of the Snowbourn: NPC Beda

Beda waited, as Cal instructed, though not patiently. She thought about trying to climb onto Nuthatch’s back so she could see over the tall grass but decided against it. A light breeze parted the reeds just long enough for her to catch a glimpse of men gathered around something lying in the ground. The jingle of bells carried on the wind clearly this time.

She could wait no longer. Tugging the horse along behind her, Beda emerged from the bank of reeds and hurried her pace toward the gathered group. There was Cal, looking concerned, and the three strangers, and Sheemie, looking very pale and distraught. They all looked as if they wished they were somewhere else.

And there, on the ground, lay something, covered by a cloak. Beda looked from one man to the next, with eyes pleading for what she knew to be true to not be true. If they do not say it, then it is not real, she thought. But she knew she had to learn the truth. She steeled her heart, took a step closer, and said in a voice that was more command than request, “Remove the cloak. Please.”

@Calimir @Aodh Hammerhelm @Wamba_the_Fool @Sally

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Wamba the Fool

"Remove the cloak. Please," intoned the child - young lady, rather - and the Fool began moving instantly. He knew a command when he heard one, and he was no thane of lofty mien to gainsay his better.

The minstrel moved not quickly, for that is not the verse of the song they were in. His dancing thews had underscored chanted sagas before, and the arms in purple moved deliberately, smoothly - coiled full of life that could spring out had it wished, but content for the nonce to flow - to drift inexorably. Nearby, the river ran in its course.

The fingers of Wamba, the Fool, lit upon the topmost edge of the cloak as a harper touches the strings ere he begins to play. The relaxed tension is there; the possession, the complete dominion of the grace-beat before the first pluck sounds the first note of the first phrase of the first stanza of the first time you'd ever heard that piece before and oh, why can't you recall it to mind any more? The breathless yearning for the breathed, living words, rolling in rhythm to match the rise and fall of a boy's breastbone- ah, yes. Of course.

"Sure, are you, little one?" he could have condescended.

"You don't have to look," he could have lied.

"This is no sight for young eyes," he could have blasphemed.

Wamba, the son of Unwita, was merely a mortal. We will not here bear false witness about whether he wanted to say such profane inanities. We will only record that in this moment, he did not.

She'd said "please," after all. Words mean things.

The cloak receded, caught in the waning tide of the harpist's hands, and the deep gave up her dead.

@Eléowyn @Sally @Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

@Wamba_the_Fool

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

Four leagues downriver of Edoras: A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPCs ~ Symond Beorma & Bran Wænnfót

Symond slouched in his chair and picked at his teeth with a fin-bone; the barbel had been excellent and he didn't want to waste a morsel. The whelp, Bran, was generally a useless cull, but one thing he could do, and do well, was cook. That made him useful Symond supposed, but only just. And was the occasional bowl of good dinner enough to compensate for the aggravation his strange nephew wrought?

Perhaps the time had come to cut him adrift, leave him to find his own way in the world. Surely he'd done his duty by the boy, sixteen years was a long, long while after all. It was not that he hated the boy, or blamed him even for his sister’s untimely demise. Nay hatred was too strong a word for the way he felt about his sister-son – indifferent was nearer the mark.

Symond’s hatred was reserved for the faceless man, the fly-by-night, who’d wormed his way into Wynfreda’s heart, deflowered her and left her to face the consequences of her folly. She’d not had long for that! An eight month of pregnancy and the insults of folk up and down the river, before the brat’s howls had announced his arrival into the world. The boy had hollered fit to burst as he was delivered, but not loudly enough to drown out the shrill cries of his mother as the midwife struggled in vain to save her.

Aye, hatred was what kept Symond going – awake or asleep – and the slim prospect of retribution. Not a weregild, kennit, but quick strangling fingers around the beggar’s unsuspecting neck.

Most night’s, unless dead drunk, Symond dreamed of the stranger who’d destroyed his sister, and in those murky dreams he followed hard behind the swine’s clocking footsteps, along a seemingly endless highway.

But he never quite managed to catch up with the dim figure, and, on the odd occasion when he came within in touching distance, an unfathomable terror stayed him from grasping the fellow’s broad shouldered frame.

The fisherman was roused from his musing by a slight movement in the corner of his eye. He gazed across the squalid room and found his nephew leaning against the door jamb. The whelp's face was in deep shadow, but his eyes glittered like chips of ice. Symond shifted his frame, and belched loudly.

"The catfish was good, lad - right tasty. It’s a pity there was nothing strong to drink with it. I've been thinking, thinking we should up stakes and head down river tomorrow morn…”

The fisherman’s eyes failed to notice the flurry of worry that passed over his nephew’s face, his eyes were firmly fixed on the objects in the whelp’s hands. “What’s that?” he croaked.

“Mead,” Bran smiled, the earthen bottles clinked against each other as he stepped forward. “Brewed ‘specially for you, onkel, and saved for a special occasion.”

“Mead?” Symond gasped. “How’s that? I know you like messing with herbs and things, but I never marked you down as a grog maker.”

“There are plenty of hives down by the river, onkel. While you’ve been collecting fish over the summer, I’ve been harvesting honey. Try some, it’s nicely mellowed.”

Symond seized the offered mug and sniffed tentatively at the whelp’s brew. For the briefest moment the rank scent of unwashed feet (something Symond had more than a nodding acquaintance with) clawed at his nostrils. But the lavender and rosemary bouquet of the mead soon coated his palate, masking the tang of the valerian sleeping potion Bran had added to the mug.

Symond drained the cup in a single draught and held it out for seconds. “Very nice – delicious!” he smiled, as Bran refilled his mug, then his chin dropped suddenly onto his spindly chest and he fell away into a darkness devoid of dreams.

---
@Eléowyn

[Lail]

Lailyn with Æric
“Oh,” she murmured, feeling her stomach sink. She tried to hide her disappointment with a thin smile as she inclined her head in agreement. “I guess you’re right. There's a lot waiting for me, too…" Not that she could recall what just then.

Lailyn inwardly kicked herself for being so foolish. Where had she even found the audacity to invite him? What was she thinking? It was clear he didn’t want to accept but was too polite to say so. And then she’d gone and reminded him why he was even there at all. To repair her house and get paid and be on his way. But he had invited her to have lunch, told her about his past...something she couldn’t do in return. Not yet. Its for the best, she told herself. At least until she could reign in her straying feelings and forget about them. Even if there was something there, even if he had no wife, if she hadn't made such a foolish mistake in the past...it was too soon, those memories still too near.

But all it took to weaken her resolve was the hand he held out to her with an inviting smile. Knowing it would be rude not to take it and unable to refuse, she reached out and slid her hand into his. It felt warm and strong, roughened by hard work, surprisingly gentle. A hand that built and mended what was broken.

She allowed him to help her up and found her self standing within arms length of him. Too close. Warmth flooded through her as she risked a glance at him through her lashes. Had she noticed before how tall he was or the way his eyes and scar crinkled when he smiled...and Dear Bema, was she still holding his hand?

Releasing her grip, she took a clarifying step back and hoped she hadn’t given herself away. It had only been a brief moment right? Not too long? If she melted at the mere touch of a hand, no wonder it was so easy for Davin to fool her. Attempting to appear more relaxed than she felt, she glanced in the direction of her house and swept her braid over her shoulder.

“Do you think you will finish today?” she asked as they began walking back. “If it helps, I’ll try not to distract you with all my talking this afternoon…there are plenty of things I should be doing. Sometimes I just get carried away and lose track of time,” she told him apologetically with a shrug of her shoulders.

[Eléowyn]

South bank of the Snowbourn: NPC Beda

Beda kept her eyes firmly on the man with the bells as he swept the cloak back, in a movement that was at once both purposeful and poetic. Or so it would have seemed if Beda were in a state to make such an observation. She watched his face only, not wanting to see what lay at his feet until the man stepped back. When he had done so, she nodded a silent thank you, tried to steady her breathing, then looked down.

For a moment she did not recognize him. The boy that lay there was too pale, the face too slack, the eyes too empty. She looked around in confusion, as if to ask what kind of cruel joke they were playing on her. But she looked again, and she knew. There lay the lifeless body of her eldest brother, Almod.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to collapse, or to turn and run as if she had not seen that pale lovely face with the lifeless eyes. She wanted to throw up. But she choked back the bile gathering in the back of her throat and stepped forward, dropping to her knees at Almod's side. Taking his head in her arms, she began to rock to and fro as a sound that she did not at first recognize as coming from herself began to fill her ears. The sound grew louder until the keening wail filled the air around her.

She knew not if anyone approached to comfort her; she knew only grief and darkness and despair. But even in her pain, she understand she did not have the luxury of succumbing to darkness. At last, the rocking stopped, she lowered the poor lad's head gently to the ground, and kissed his forehead.

With great effort, she stood, almost tripping over the skirt that was too long. She tried to speak, but her words first caught in her throat. She lifted her chin and tried again. "Where are the others?" she asked. "Have they been found?"

@Wamba_the_Fool @Calimir @Aodh Hammerhelm @Sally

[Taethowen]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

As Trewyn pulled her into a hug, Taeth let her head rest on the other woman's shoulder. She felt a weariness that was bone-deep and soul-deep, and as much as she desperately wished kind words and a warm embrace would soothe all the pain away, she knew it wouldn't. Not so easily.

Trewyn's gentle hand stroking her hair as the woman began to speak made her heart ache. Taeth wished that she was receiving comfort from her own mother. She wished that their relationship would have allowed for that, at any point. As things had stood between them the last time they communicated, Taethowen would have never dreamed to confess her recent affair to her mother.

When Trewyn said it sounds very much like you need a mother, and you need a home, Taeth felt hear tears start anew. A moment later, Trewyn pushed her away, and brushed those tears from her face. As the woman continued to speak, Taeth did her best to listen despite the ache settling behind her eyes. She tried to smile, however weakly, as Trewyn expressed her gratitude with the new home for her and her own children, but Taeth feared she failed.

After several more long, silent moments, though, Trewyn pulled her close into a hug again, and Taeth let herself be held, even if the comfort felt inadequate for the aches in her heart.

"I think... if it's not too inconvenient for you," Taeth eventually whispered. "That I should like to stay here rather than in my manor house while I'm in the Eastfold. And... in a few days, would you help me to sort through any remaining effects there? I don't recall there being much from the last time I was here... but at that time, I didn't realize they would never be back again."

@CHAOS

[Fuin Elda]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

She knew there was a good chance that Taethowen wasn't going to catch everything that she said, it was just her hunch as a mother that she was too hurt right now to completely catch everything, or heal. After all healing didn't happen overnight not even for physical wounds could manage that emotional ones always took way longer. She was alright with just sitting holding the woman brushing her hair doing her best to be comfort for the Second Marshall it was all that she could do.

Eventually Taeth spoke, a soft whisper and Trewyn nodded softly at the request, seeming like a cross between a prayer and a plea for help. "You are welcome to stay in this house any time you come to the Eastfold" She responded softly continuing to hold her giving what small comfort she could. "I promise this can be your home, you will never be an inconvienience in this home." She said a gentle sad smile on her face. "and I will help you as much as as you need with sorting through the manor house." They sat for several moments longer in silence before Trewyn gently stood up and pulled Taeth along.

"I am sure that sleep will be hard but, I think over the next few days you'll need it." She led her into a room that was not in use by her family the bed was made up nicely and there were warm blankets on the mattress as well as a small basin that had water in it to wash up and her bags had been carried into the room as well by Ceadda while the girls had been making the bed. She sat Taeth down and brushed away the tears one last time. "I am right across the hall, if you need anything you can come and wake me at any time tonight, and you sleep as long as you need to." She said soft and slipped out of the room and quietly shut the door. She caught the girls door shutting quickly and headed to finish tucking them in and making sure that they would stay in bed unless they needed something. It was several minutes later before she got to her own bed. With a sigh she pulled off her apron and got into her sleeping shift and climbed into bed. She could feel her heart breaking for Taethowen, and she sat in the quiet of the house with the bugs singing their chorus outside. She did her best to sleep however as a mother her ear was open even as she slept just incase she was needed by her children, which tonight seemed to include Taethowen the Second Marshall.

@Sally

[Taethowen]

Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma


Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras

When Bambu approached, holding up a lock of hair and pieces of cloth, Sighard felt his stomach knot again. As Sheemie and Bambu... conferred (though to Sighard it seemed to be one of the oddest conversations he'd ever witnessed) he found himself looking around at the tree and the river. Something seemed... odd. But he couldn't put his finger on what.

He heard Bambu say that the girl was coming back, and he swore under his breath. That Calimir fellow was with her still, too, it seemed. Sighard kept his eyes on the river, still perusing the tree and further downstream to the rocks where Bambu said he'd found the lock of hair, as Beda approached, and Wamba uncovered the boy's face again.

Sighard flinched as a wail of grief rose in the air, and his gaze fell on the lock of hair in Bambu's hand. That. That was what was wrong. Silently, he approached the Dunlending, and took the hair from his hand.

If the river carried her away... this would have been torn from her scalp, Sighard thought, spreading the length of the tress across both of his hands. There would be skin, tissue, but this is... clean. Too clean.

Just as Beda spoke up and asked about the other children, Sighard turned back to the group and held up the hair. "I don't think the river took Lida--" that was the name Sheemie had said, right? "--this looks like it was cut from her head, not torn."

@Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool

[Eldrith]

Eldrith, human, she/her
In a quiet part of Edoras, (TIME - BUBBLE dusk on the day of the Riddermarket attack and Marshal promotions, with Allacan)




I did not attempt to kill her either...

*It was the first thing she said in full words, and the words were carefully spoken and chosen, even though her face still showed no expression. She did not ask if the attack had taken a life, as if for now she was distanced still from what happened on the edge between life and death. As if that.. mattered less than the intricate weavings of fate or plots made by hands even more skillful than her own. She could not blame anyone but herself for what had happened in the Campian, but this.. this was different.

And I do not know one who would wish to kill her, or who would find her life an easy price to make me pay in harsher coinage.


*She wasn't a fool. You'd given enough detail that she knew she was the intended culprit. But had she been the target with Pele simply being the means? Or had Pele been the target and she a convenient scapegoat.*

As to owing you one... I would owe you more if you pretended to think me the killer and then let me go, so I do not think that would be your reason to come here.*She did not speak again for a long time, not moving, not looking away, as if she was reading your face, the way she would people in her pub. The silence did not seem to weigh upon her, nor did she feel the need to break it with babbling until she had made her assesment. You do not like the rules... being broken in your domain.

*And now for the first time there was a small smile as if she equated an attack in the Riddermarket and your reaction to it, to the rules broken in the pit where honor should reign, and where chaos for a moment had taken over.*

I could not have foreseen this when I said I wanted talk.. *Or had she? If this had been a carefully plotted attack, she very well could have. After all, she had been able to sink into the weft of the Mark for years and years without anyone picking up a glimpse of steel in the thread she formed, setting something up over the course of a few weeks or months would have been child's play. And yet would she have? She might brazen face it before others, but would she before you, if her clean hands had been stained with blood earlier. And would she be so unnaturally calm? Her hand had not gone near the steel you now knew she carried. But the words that came next were as sharp as a knife could be, despite the utter.. reasonableness of that tone, as if she merely inquired idly.*

I gave.. away something in the sand. So did you. What I am, what I was.. is not a threat. *A stain perhaps, a smear on the simple honor that formed the hallmark of her new home, but not a threat, or so she claimed.* But are you? To me? To the Mark?

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

Four leagues downriver of Edoras: A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPCs ~ Bran Wænnfót (& Symond Beorma)

The stolen child (Lida) was still in dreamland; his onkel snored loudly in his chair. Bran sat on the sunlit hill that overlooked the Snowbourn, his legs were crossed and his eyes shut. His breathing was shallow but regular, the sounds and scents of the waking world were lost to him. But he was not asleep.

Harnessing the silky whisper that chimed somewhere betwixt his heart and mind, Bran threw out his hands, thumbs and index fingers touched tip to tip. His eyelids fluttered, and his knees trembled, a narrow space presented between his buttocks and the turf. "Bool!" he murmured, as his hands clasped over his dark head, and the light about him fell into swirling shadow.

The boy's right hand flew out, fingers thrust toward the valley below. Sunlight returned to the hillside as the swarm of Gorcrows plied a path towards the river. Bran fell back onto the grass and grinned into the blue fall sky.

---

South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPCs ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba & Sheemie Rheus

Bambu's broad face flushed with anger at the tall Forgoil's (Sighard) words. He gazed quickly at the nkozasana (Beda), the young horse-feller (Calimir), Moon-face (Sheemie) and the sangoma (Wamba).

The man with the charms in his hair was the eldest of the Strawheads, and surely the wisest - why did he not take command? None of the Forgoils had offered to track the lost small ones, but now the harsh-voiced, tall one was questioning Bambu's eyes.

"You say Wildman lie? You speak bad in front of Rustman's daughter while brother lie dead!" the Dunlending said, stepping close to Sighard. He reached over his shoulder, than spat in frustration at his feet. His flint-tipped arrows lay hidden on the green hill below the big-house-town.

"Let me look hair!" he said, plucking the blonde tress from the Strawhead's hand. "True, no scalp… but water very strong and stones there sharp like knives… cut clean like Forgoil swords…" Bambu glared up at the Strawhead as Sheemie threw an arm around Beda. “How old you? How many years you track?” the Wildman growled.

And here things might have gone ill, but any confrontation between the searchers was stayed by a sudden cacophony. Darkness fell over the company as a swarm of crows wheeled overhead.

The carrion-fowl uttered hungry caws and swooped upon the heads of those gathered around Almod’s shrouded body. Sheemie waved his gardening hat above his head frantically, Bambu stooped in search of stones to see off the wretched birds.

“Someone take broken child away… Quick-quick!” the Wildman yelled, as he pegged a pebble at the whirling, squawking cloud.

---
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool @Sally

[Calimir]

South bank of the Snowbourn river

It was like being back on the hill by the ford again, but worse. Beda had not listened to Cal' and had demanded to look at her dead brother. The lad from Gondor shifted his feet as she wailed. He wanted to comfort his friend but his feet seemed like they were glued to the ground. And now instead of being kind and understanding the search party were arguing about a missing girl. Sheemie was standing looking pale and scared, but he did at least put his arm around Beda.

Cal' moved at last and hurried towards the men (Bambu, Sighard and Wamba). Before he could say anything the light grew dim and a murder of crows was on them. The lad from Gondor did the first thing that came into his head, he lay over Almod's body to protect the dead boy. He saw Bambu throw a stone. One of the crows dropped to the ground and flapped horribly near Cal's head. The rest of the crows flapped around for a bit longer than flew away down the river.

The lad from Gondor jumped up and stamped hard on the flapping bird. "What now?" he yelled at the men. ''This is no place for poor Almod, or Beda and Sheemie!"

>>> @Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Sally @Wamba_the_Fool amb

[Eléowyn]

Inside a woodshed, north of the Snowbourn: NPC Leoflida

Lida thought she was still dreaming at first. A horrible cacophony of sound, cawing and the beating of many wings, broke through her deep-drug-induced slumber. Still on that cusp between sleep and wakefulness, she could not discern if the noise was right outside her door or if it was leagues away. "Mam!" she cried out, not yet realizing she was not at home. "Mam!" she cried louder.

There was no answer, and as her eyes opened fully, she recalled she was not at home. But what she did not understand was why she was in this dark place, with no light other than what shone through the chinks in the wood. Where is that strange man with the baubles? she wondered, as she sat up to look around. She tried to stand but found her legs were shaky and her eyes would not focus fully. "Hihihi!" she called out. "Lida wakeded up now!"

@Aodh Hammerhelm

[Éolath]

w/ Sigrid

He quite liked her hands. He decided this as he gently rubbed his cheek against her fingers before all thoughts were driven out of his head by her soft lips and kiss. Eo acted on his instincts and feelings, reaching up to cup her cheeks as she had done with his. His hands lingered there briefly before he slid his fingers into her hair. He wanted to be careful, to ensure he didn’t accidently hurt or upset her, but he couldn’t resist the urge to pull her closer.

Éo lifted his head finally, his eyes dreamy as he stared at her. He was momentarily speechless and could only grin down at her. More than a little overwhelmed, he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I didn’t...expect...that was...I’ve never, uhm…” he rubbed his cheek against hers, giving up on his very scattered wits. “Your kisses are nice. I probably could have fallen out of this tree and never even noticed. And I generally notice when I fall out of trees, since it usually hurts. I’m glad we didn’t fall…” he was babbling again, but only continued to grin. Playfully, he pressed his lips to hers again. He hadn’t fallen out of the tree, but he was pretty sure he’d fallen headfirst in love. “Maybe we should stay here tonight,” he said teasingly, “go to my sister in the morning.” He glanced up at the afternoon sun, then touched her cheek again.

[Taethowen]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

As Trewyn comforted her, and promised to help with the manor house, Taeth tried to silence the quiet whisper of guilt that lingered in the back of her mind. Taeth didn't really know what it was like to have a mother. And this woman was... her steward's mother. She had her own children to tend to. For all that Ceadda was, essentially, a man now, Taeth knew that even for a few more years he would need a mother's touch. It was something she hadn't even had at his age, having already apprenticed as a seamstress, and then leaving soon after to join the Cavalry.

Taeth had known her mother loved her, yes, but they'd butted heads more often than a couple of ornery goats, and eventually it just became easier to keep their distance from each other. Until suddenly there was... no contact. And then no time left.

Eventually, Trewyn led her upstairs to the spare bedroom. When she was left alone, Taeth took a few moments to let her mind calm--as much as it was able, and fortunately it seemed the socialization of the evening had tempered the need for her thoughts to wander aimlessly--and then began to strip out of her travel clothes, change into the last clean shift in her bag, and comb out wind-gnarled hair.

She jotted down a few brief notes in her journal, and then collapsed onto the bed with the combined weariness of a broken heart and an exhausted body. Hopefully, tonight, she would sleep without dreams.

~~~

The next several days passed in a blur of activity, and for Taeth it ended up being a much-needed reprieve from the silent, excruciating solitude of travel that she'd endured on the way to the estate. She'd had Ceadda accompany here to Shivased's estate, Braiarwood, while she delivered the letters to the steward there, making sure that both herself and her steward were introduced. She remembered well how invaluable knowing your neighbors could be when homes were as spread out as these were.

As she worked with Ceadda over the next week, though, Taeth eventually made the decision not to bring on many more horses quite yet. It would be better to do so later, after the fields were established again, and she wouldn't have to pay quite as much coin out of pocket for their feed. Especially going into winter. There'd been a couple horses at Braiarwood that had caught her eye, though, seeming to be of Anhyrne descent and she would be talking to Shivased about them as soon as she had the chance

With Ceadda's keen mind, Sigerun and Estrun's curiosity, and Trewyn's gentle care, Taeth found that the quiet moments between the busy-ness were not unbearable.

It was in the last few days of her stay when Taethowen and Trewyn finally stepped into the main manor house together. As they cleaned and sorted through everything, Taeth found that even if she couldn't quite think of Trewyn as a mother--though she'd certainly been motherly to her in a way that helped to soothe Taeth's heart a little--she found that she could relate to the woman as a friend, and it was that newfound closeness which finally prompted Taeth to spill some of her other thoughts and worries, beyond just the loss of her family, and--to a lesser extent--the loss of her lover.

"I fear I've been too hasty in my return to the Mark," she confessed as they paused mid-morning for a cup of tea. "I needed to return, to resolve the unfinished affairs with my former husband" --she'd explained a few days before that the King had granted her a dissolution of marriage when she'd made her plea in the throne room-- "and to find out what happened to my family... but I think I tried to shove myself back into former shape of my old life without accounting for how much I've changed in the last decade. I think I grew used to the freedom of my life on the road, and now the commitments and oaths I've made here feel... burdensome, rather than honorable.

"I think that might be part of why nothing feels like home anymore."

@CHAOS

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

Four leagues downriver of Edoras: A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPCs ~ Symond Beorma & Bran Wænnfót

Symond’s head was heavy. It was a struggle to open his eyes, and when he managed this, the familiar dimensions of the front room were misshapen and out of focus. He tried to shift his frame, and failed.

It was like he was in a dream, one that lacked the familiar clocking footsteps of a silhouetted quarry, but felt fraught with underlying dread nonetheless. There was a child - Bran? - sitting naked before the old iron stove. The colour of the bairn’s hair matched his nephew’s, but the figure was slim and short. Symond wrestled with this vision – fact or fancy? – as he slipped back into darkness.

“I’ve brought you new clothes,” Bran said, kneeling beside Lida. Despite the warmth from the stove the girl shivered, and her chin trembled. “I had to get rid of your old ones, sadly. Uncle Symo’s a filthy old beast; he’s left fleas in the bedclothes and lice on the pillows.”

The lad dressed the girl quickly, and handed her a careworn soft toy, a rabbit crafted by his mother as she waited for him to enter the world. He gave her a broad smile and squeezed one of her pudgy hands:

"You sit here quietly, Lida-deor, and stay away from that dirty old beggar, you hear! He’s not a nice man - no, not at all! Goodness knows what he’ll do if he finds you here. Sit still with wee bunny. Bran’s got some things to do, then we’ll have some lunch and a bit of playtime.”

Symond was drawn back from his drug-induced slumber by the sound of singing … gone to market, this lil’ piggy stayed home... Once more he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. The child was gone, the door of the cottage was open and the bright fall light was dazzling.

The fisherman managed to shift his face from the glare, and found his nephew eyeing him curiously from the shadows. It was a look that had often troubled him down the years, a stare that seemed to mask something below the boy’s handsome face, something dark and loathsome. The cull smiled – the smile he’d never cared for – and Symond’s heart lurched with fear.

That’s what those eyes and smile reminded him of, he realised at last - a pike lurking in the reeds, with its teeth ready to savage an unsuspecting prey. His nephew disappeared from view momentarily, and then his ruddy face filled Symond’s vision.

“Drink up, onkel!” The lad chortled, as he tilted the fisherman’s head backward and thrust a fresh bottle of mead between his lips. Symond tried to spit the liquid from his mouth, it spilled down the wattles of his suntanned neck and onto his grimy vest. But in the end his struggling ceased. The taste of the mead, and bright compulsion in Bran’s eyes, were beyond his will to resist.

“Good!” Bran smiled at Lida, ruffling her freshly cut hair. “Now we can get on with things undisturbed. Do you like adventures, Lida? Have you ever travelled? Bran’s going to take you to amazing places, show you things that will make your little heart sing. Come over to the table and sit for your lunch. I’ll tell you what I’ve got planned while we eat.”

Bran placed bowls of stew on the table, and a fresh-baked honeyed-apple pie. He looked with satisfaction at the girl in boy’s clothing. The cast-offs from his youth, that tight-wad Symo had squirrelled away, fitted her perfectly. The hair cut rounded the disguise off nicely, and the dark dye he’d applied was surely the master-stroke.

"C'mon over here from over there, Lida," Bran smiled. "Let's have our meal, then we can go out and explore... Anywhere!"

--
@Eléowyn

[Winddancer]

Æric with Lailyn

She took his hand, hers soft and delicate yet still there was strength in it alluding to the fact that she had some hidden strength from years of work and likely using a sword. He easily pulled her off the grass, though as soon as she stood before him it was as if this crazy world stood still. The noon sun hit her hair and made it seem like it was glowing, even though it laid braided and over her shoulder. But it was her eyes that paused him. Looking down into her hazel eyes he felt his heart skip several beats, his breath held as he all but drowned in them.

Throat tight and heart fluttering rapidly he was about to raise his free hand to touch her sun warmed cheek when she pulled her hand from his, taking a step away and snapped him out of it. Fool! He thought to himself, his cheeks going a dark red as he quickly leaned down to retrieve the remnants of their picnic. What on Arda made you think she would even be interested in an advance such as that? He was her employee for crying out loud. And he had just told her about his wife's betrayal and that he was still married! Of course she would want nothing to do with someone like him! Idiot! Stop being so silly and just get your work done, he admonished himself.

Though.. she had stood there for a long moment with her hand in his, had she not? Her question quickly sobered him up as she seemed to be making it clear that she wanted the work finished quickly. He gave her a side glance, pushing away his thoughts of how he would actually like to have her around to talk to, having forgotten how good it actually felt to be able to talk to another adult.

"Yes, I would think I would be able to finish it today. You should have your kitchen back by tonight."

Why was his heart aching and his stomach churning?

***

Sigrid with Éo

As new and awkward as they were with kissing, it was still the single most greatest feeling in the world. She could still feel his lips on hers as they tingled, barely able to breathe as he stayed close with his forhead on hers. She had scooted in closer as he had pulled her closer for the kiss, yet still she felt like he was too far away. Closing her eyes she enjoyed the closeness, the feel of his breath tickling her face as he babbled. Oh Eru she loved his babbling. She would happily listen to him for hours on end. Used to silence and only really talking to people when it had to do with work, it was wonderful to listen to someone talk about everything and nothing. For a moment she wondered if he could read as she found she would love to just snuggle up close to him and have him read to her, just listening to his voice. It didn't matter if he didn't know how though, she could always ask him to tell her a story.

Her heart was pounding so hard and so fast that she was sure he could feel it too, it only increasing as he shared another kiss with her. Why was her heart aching this much? His question brought her out of her concerned reverie, her cheeks going pink. Looking into his eyes she felt a twinge in the pit of her stomach, heart painfully skipping several beats. She had to swallow hard before she could answer, knowing that he was likely only half serious anyway. She wanted to say yes, her heart and body were screaming for her to say yes. Wanting nothing more than to just stay here with him forever. But his brother-in-law was ill. And while she wanted to be selfish and stay, she just couldn't as she would never forgive herself if he took a turn for the worse and she could have been there to prevent it.

When she finally found her voice it was thick with emotion, forcing her to cough a little to clear it. "I would love nothing more.. but patients have to come first." She looked at him apologetically, hoping that he would understand. Giving him a small shy smile she quickly added "We could always stay the night on the way home..", her cheeks blushing again.

[Éolath]

w/ Sigrid
Éo blinked at Sigrid. Of course a patient came first, and she was not likely to forget her duty...even if he did. “Oh. Right. Patients...my brother.” He grinned, a touch distracted. He would have a lot of time alone with her on the road to the deep and back to Edoras. And he did want her to check on his brother-in-law, even if nothing could be done for him.

He pressed his cheek to hers once again, smiling at the softness and wrapped his arms around her. They had a bit of time yet; his sister did not live far. And Sigrid was so adorable with the pink cheeks and dreamy eyes. Though he liked the serious, competent healer Sigrid as well. Truth was, he just liked her.

“I like you,” he said his thoughts aloud. He was pretty certain he’d already told her that, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to repeat that particular thought regularly. His parents were always saying things like that, just little thoughts acknowledging the other. He’d thought it a bit cheesy as a youth, but after seeing her face light up, Éo thought he understood better. “We can stay here whenever you’d like. I’ll tell Hild that you are going … uhm, that I offered the land for you to use. That way she won’t try to chase you off, if you ever come without me.”

He shifted back slightly, smiled at her though his eyes were serious. “And I mean that, you can come whenever you like. I’ll probably have to spend a lot of time in the Deep for a while, but you don’t have to wait for me if you want to come here. Even if you decide not to use the garden and stuff, you can just ...you know, come here to rest or whatever you need.” He touched the tip of his nose to hers, then kissed her again. He was growing more confident with this newest skill, daring to run his fingers down her neck and over her shoulder.

Reluctantly, he sat back after a few minutes, his breathing unsteady. “I really like kissing,” he said finally, “I’m glad I waited to learn with you.” He tried to grin at her, but he was a bit distracted with the trembling in his hands and the weird thudding in his chest. “I hope you like it too. You will tell me if...if I do something you don’t like? Promise?”

[Taethowen]

Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma


Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras

Sighard's patience was wearing thin, especially with Bambu. The Dunlending had made a show of needing to perform some sort of good deed, and yet it seemed he was determined to see the other children dead rather than maybe-alive. The hair appearing to have been cut should not have been a matter of pride it should have been a sliver of hope.

"A lie and a mistake are not the same," Sighard snapped at Bambu. "Any slight chance that any of the remaining children might be alive should be pursued. And the girl clearly said earlier that she's not Rustman's daughter, so if you're doing this to gain some sort of favor with that man, then you should leave."

Age and experience had nothing to do with that, and so Sighard didn't answer those questions. It was just as well, because the crows descended upon them, and if Sighard had been inclined to any sort of superstition, he would have wished himself away from there, but as a Cavalry soldier he had a duty to see this through.

When the crows departed, he cringed as Calimir stomped on the one that Bambu's stone had downed. Brutality as a response to frustration was never a good sign. If he'd been determined to kill the bird, the other lad should have at least been willing to wring the bird's neck. It would have been a faster death.

"What now?" Sighard repeated Calimir's whine. "Indeed, this is no place for Almod's body, but the fate of the other children is more urgent. You are welcome to take him back to Edoras if you don't want to help with the search. Sheemie and Beda can make up their own minds about where they belong."

With that, Sighard turned to Beda. He suspected that Sheemie would not want to be there much longer, but he could see a silent strength that was shaping inside the girl--and she didn't seem to be that much younger than him, if he could survive what he had in his life, then she would be fine once she found her resolve--and she deserved the right to choose for herself.

"Bambu--" he gestured at the Dunlending "--seems to think that the river has taken the rest of your siblings. If he is right, then perhaps you should return to Edoras now. We know how many we're looking for, and you can just as easily identify their bodies when we return with them.

"However, I think there's a chance--however slim--that at least one of them might still be alive. And if I'm right, I'm sure it would be a great comfort to both of you if you are with us when we find the child. But the choice is yours."


@Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool

[Fuin Elda]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

The house was kept busy over several days, chores always, Sigerun for her part was sad that there would be no new horses until the spring but understood why.

Trewyn kept a fairly steady eye on Taeth, making sure she had some time to relax but always tempered with someone to interupt her thoughts should the become to focused, and lots and lots of tea.

It was after one such tea that she confessed she felt she had been hasty in returning to the Mark, Trewyn raised an eyebrow and listend quietly sipping at her cup of tea. "Mmmm." She licked her lips putting her cup down as Taeth seemed to finally get out what was making her return to the Riddermark so difficult. She was not the same woman as when she had left, and she seemed, at least to Trewyn to be trying to force herself back into the mold of what was.

"I don't doubt it Taeth," She said softly. "You have been gone many years, first with illness, and then with work travelling as you've told me." She picked up the small kettle and poured more tea into Taeths cup before setting the kettle down and looking at her new friend, even if she was still very much motherly towards her. "Life changes people, no matter how mundane the life, even I am not who I was ten years ago, and perhaps it is easy for me, because my life has not been interrupted. It's just been continuous so I haven't tried to make myself what I was to pick up the threads that had been dropped." She took a deep breath, "Take your time find out what is important to you that you want to pick up but don't feel the need to pick up everything." She said softly.


Over the next few days their morning teas were similar talking about what exactly had happened, and about her adopted child that she had returned to his family once more. That came up more than once, some wistful dream of a family that she would never have again and Trewyn finally stopped her and decided it was time for some possibly tough love.

"You keep speaking of your son, as if he no longer exists. Just because he is with his blood family now, do you really think you had no part in shaping him into the man he is even now? Why not go look for him?" She leaned back away from Taeth. "You don't have to go and be his mother as you were before but why not see if he wants you in his life? Give yourself and perhaps him some closure, or a new thread to pick up and continue on with to make yourself a family again and perhaps find a home? You said it was his relatives not his parents that had come to reclaim him... You raised him, you are his mother not by birth but by choice, and sometimes my friend, that is a far stronger tie, and don't worry about this manor, we've cleaned out what we needed to in the main house, my son will take care of it for you and keep you informed of progress, and if you wish to sell it, then sell it. Sometimes letting go of what is burdening you lets you reach for something greater."

@WRONG LEVER KRONK!

[Winddancer]

Sigrid with Éo

"I like you." How could three simple little words when put together like that create such a pounding warmth in her very soul? She had actually never had anyone say that to her, ever. She knew her grandmother loved her, but even she never voiced it. She suddenly felt overwhelmed, panic churning in her stomach. Just a few days ago she was still actively searching for the children, alone as she had been for years. And now? Her whole life had changed. She had wanted this so badly she realised, now almost terrified of losing it or realising it was just a dream.

No, this was too real. She could feel the soft warm breeze, hear the leaves rustle around them and feel his strong arms around her. She wanted to stay here forever, in his arms. She wanted to thank him for offering her the use of his garden again, though before she could he mentioned having to spend time at the Deep. Feeling her heart sink at what that might mean for her time with him, she tried her best not to let it show. It was not that far, right?

As he kissed her again she felt her panic lessen, allowing herself to enjoy it. As always it seemed to last too briefly, staying close as he spoke. A quirky smile lit her face, glad that she too had waited to learn how to kiss with him. At his question she tilted her head, the smile still on her face. "You will never do anything I won't like Éo.. but if it will make you happy, I promise I will tell you if you do." Gently she held his cheek, her eyes serious as she looked at him. "I promise. Now kiss me again before we have to go.."

[Eléowyn]

A hut north of the Snowbourn: NPC Leoflida

Lida had not liked it at first when the man starting cutting her hair, tugging at her scalp as he worked. But when he was done, she shook her head and nothing tickled her neck or fell into her eyes. With delight she realized no more sitting still while Mam struggled to pull a brush through her tangled tresses and no more of the ridiculous braids that she hated.

Lida did not understand half of what the young man was saying, but he was nice to her and she could smell something cooking that promised to be very tasty. The stuffed bunny he had offered her held no interest for her, but she was content to sit and let him work nonetheless. She was more of a watcher; when all the other children in the house were fussing over one thing or another, she would sit quietly and wait for the opportunity to take what she wanted while they argued. She was learning at a very young age that sometimes being quiet was the road to success. Not like her oldest sister, Beda, who could talk the ears off an oliphaunt.

At last the man called her to come eat. She scrambled up onto a chair and looked at the bowl in front of her. It smelled delicious, but her skill with eating utensils was not yet perfected. She leaned her head close over the bowl, knowing that half of what she lifted with the spoon would not make it to her mouth. Mam would have fussed at her and told her to straighten up, but the man seemed undisturbed. Lida grinned and began shoveling the stew in faster.

When she had her fill, of both stew and pie (a rare treat for her), she sat back and burped loudly, giggling afterwards. “What we do now?” she asked. “When Lida go home?” Not soon, she hoped. She was having too much fun.

@Aodh Hammerhelm

South bank of the Snowbourn: NPC Beda

“I don’t think the river took LIda,” Sighard had said. Beda’s jerked her head to face him. “What did you say?” she demanded. “And what do you have there? Who says the river took Lida?”

There was no time for an answer before the cloud of crows descended upon them and suddenly all was chaos. There were flailing arm, rocks flying, people yelling, and birds falling from the sky. Beda fell to the ground next to Almod and Cal and covered her head with her arms, sobbing in terror and grief, until the danger was over.

She feared the arguments were about to begin anew. For some reason, the men appeared to be at odds with each other. Only Sheemie, who would never seek out an argument and who was looking as pale as ever, seemed apart from the disagreement. And the man with the bells in his hair. He was quieter than the others, but Beda sensed a wisdom behind the façade.

“Please. Stop!” Beda begged, rising to her feet with Cal’s help. “Why do you keep arguing? Sighard is right about this much: all that matters, to me at least, is finding my brother and sisters. And now I have an impossible choice, one I fear to make. Every choice I have made has led to tragedy.” She lowered her head and squeezed her eyes hard, both to think more clearly and to stem the fresh tide of tears. She struggled with the decision presented to her for a moment, then at last sighed deeply, opened her eyes and spoke, a new determination in her eyes.

“Sheemie,” she said, taking her friend’s hand in hers, “may I place upon you a tremendous burden? Would you accompany Almod back to the infirmary and see that he is tended there as was Mam? They can now be buried together, when I return.” She hoped fervently those would be the only two bodies to be placed into the grave that day. “I know this is asking a lot of you, but I need your help. You are like family, and it is right that family should be with him.” Beda knew that being with Almod’s lifeless body would be a sore trial for Sheemie, but she feared the possibility of his facing another body should they find one would be worse.

She turned back to the other men. “He cannot bear this burden alone,” she said. “Someone should go with him. I must be there when we find the others … no matter how we find them.”

To Beda, the best person to accompany Sheemie was the man with the bells. He had a comforting presence, and the ass that he rode could carry Almod’s body. She was trying to screw up her courage to ask the man, when something occurred to her. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement for a moment, then she asked: “Why is it that you are so sure the lock of hair belongs to Lida? It could just as well be our sister Saewyn. They are close in age, with the same golden hair. What is it you know that you are not telling me?”

@Calimir @WRONG LEVER KRONK! @Wamba_the_Fool

[Taethowen]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

"Take your time. Find out what is important to you that you want to pick up, but don't feel the need to pick up everything."

For some reason, Trewyn's words brought tears to her eyes. Taeth wished she'd heard them three months ago, when she was first stepping back into this country. Returning to the estate made sense. It had been in her family for generations, and wasn't something to be lightly set aside. And she didn't regret re-opening the seamstress shop in Edoras, especially since she could run it jointly with her cousin.

But she was beginning to regret rejoining the Cavalry. She'd never considered herself to be one swayed by glory and pride, though she did have some sense of honor, but... she feared she had been, now. She was trying not to make any rash decisions while her heart was in turmoil, though. But the closer and closer it drew to her time to return to Edoras, the greater the sense of dread grew in her heart.

But she'd made an oath. And so she would keep it.

It was only a couple of days before her planned departure when Trewyn sat her down and asked her why exactly she was not searching for her son.

"I barely had him for two years," Taeth confessed in a broken whisper. "And I did... I checked on him, after my illness. Before I left Gondor. But his relatives asked me to limit my contact with him, to... give him time to adjust. Even though it had been months since I'd last had any contact with him, while I was recuperating."

She'd never really dealt with how that exclusion had made her feel. It was something that, for a very long time, she could do nothing about, and so whenever the feelings surfaced, she'd shoved them deeper and ignored them.

"He would be a man now," she whispered, looking down at her cup of tea. "Probably your Ceadda's age, or nearly so. And... you're right. He does deserve a choice in the matter as well."

As for the suggestion to sell the estate... Taeth said nothing about that yet. But the thought settled into the back of her mind to steep. A decision like that would take a lot of consideration. She was, at this point, the last of her father's line. And this place had been passed down in her family from generation to generation since the time of Eorl. But... perhaps, also, her father would not want to her to be bound to something that was not bringing her happiness. At one point, it would have been her pride and joy to live at this estate and improve it and raise her own family here. But these days... she was uncertain if she ever would have children of her own to pass it on to.

~~~~~

And then, somehow, the day of her departure was at hand.

The nights had been long, but the days had flown. Trewyn had fixed a large breakfast that final morning, and Taeth had enjoyed a last few minutes of cheerful chatter with the twins. Now, as she and Trewyn waited outside for Ceadda to bring Gefyrst from the stables, Taeth fell silent for a few moments, a pensive nervousness about her.

Then, she stepped aside to her bags, and pulled out a folded cloth. During the late night hours she'd found that at least the distraction of some sort of handiwork made the silence pass by a little more quickly. She'd wondered if Trewyn ever noticed the lamp burning late into the night in her room, but the woman hadn't ever mentioned anything if so.

"Here," Taeth said, holding it out to her. "It's not much, just a new handerkechief with some embroidery, but it's something I could do for you without asking anything of you."

She didn't say that it was made of one of the last scraps of Haradrim silk that she had.

Taeth heard the gentle clop of Gefyrst's hooves then, as Ceadda made his way from the stable with the mare. She took Trewyn's hand and tucked the handkerchief into it, and then pulled the woman into a hug. "Thank you," she whispered. "You've done far more for me during this time than you could ever know, and I will never forget it."

@CHAOS

[Aodh Hammerhelm]

South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPCs ~ Sheemie Rheus & Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

The black cloud of crows fled down river and Sheemie’s heart returned to its normal rhythm. He mopped his brow and took his place beside his sweoster eyeing the tall Rider (Sighard) with something close to distaste.

He realised the fellow was trying to take charge of a difficult situation, but he didn’t like the man’s tone - especially how he spoke to his friend from Gondor, Calimir. Of course the fellow might be right about the missing bairns – maybe they were alive, Bema, Sheemie hoped that WAS true! – but that didn’t mean he should just try and get rid of Bambu.

The bulky lad felt his anger rising in his chest. It was something he was not used to feeling, something which made him feel sick in the pit of the stomach. “Where’s your Soljer-friends?” he wanted to shout at the man. “Where are the Cavalry when poor folks of Rohan need them? Where are the paeth-finders? Sitting comfy in their big halls talking strategy and other stuff and quaffing ale?!

Luckily the Beda-sweoster spoke first, and that was right and proper. They were trying to find her sisters and brothers, after all, not trying to show who was bigger and better than the other.

“I will take him, Beda, poor Almod. I will see him safe to your Ma’s side. It’s a long way to walk with him, but Sheemie will walk all the same. He’ll carry Almod gentle in his arms, like a wee babe, and get him to the kind folks by the hospital.

”Bambu come with you, Moon-face,” the Wildman said, bowing to Sheemie and Beda. “Him not wanted here! Forgoils too proud for Bambu… they reward Wild folk like always - with harsh words and hard eyes.

Yes, Rustman-daughter, I go with Moon-face. You say Rustman not your father… Maybe that true... But your small brother is the ngani of my cousin-brother… and your mother is ngani’s mother too. That make you family…

Do not forget what Bambu tell you. One day – soon but not soon – Rustman he must save you. How we know hair your Lida-sister? Bambu not sure, he not know her. He find straw-hair in river rocks…”

”But Sheemie does!” The brawny lad held out the strips of nightdress Bambu had found, and handed them to Beda. “This is Lida’s nightdress, I think. Sheemie remembers it from when he stayed in your house. But youse right, Beda, the hair could be Lida or Sæwyn’s. That means that maybe…”

Sheemie’s voice trailed off and he looked away from Beda’s bright eyes, biting his lip to stop the words that underscored a terrible realisation. That means maybe Sæwyn and Lida fell into the river!
___
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool @WRONG LEVER KRONK!

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Allacan, human, she/her
In a quiet part of Edoras, with @Eldrith

“You do not like the rules... being broken in your domain.”

The words seemed to have a profound effect on her. She looked up with an unreadable expression, and then she sighed and gave a small smile. “Pub-mistress Eldrith, as astute and insightful as ever.” she said with a small hint of appreciation. She placed her foot firmly on the floor - all sign of injury vanished - and shouldered the satchel while visibly considering the comment, seemingly contemplating it from every angle, before finally conceding in a bright manner. “I think you might be right you know. But it’s more than that. It’s a remnant sense of... duty... of wanting to protect what is dear to me...” she glanced sideways at Eldrith and added in an undertone meant more for herself “...what little remains of it.”

Then she straightened and thought on it a little longer, her eyes fixated on a spot in the middle distance, and her voice became airy and almost mournful. “I don’t like instability, or change. I don’t like things out of my control threatening the people I care about. I’m trying to find a balance, something solid, something...” she seemed to recall herself and the company she was with, and for a moment she looked guarded again, and her voice had a cold tone to it when she responded.

“I gave away only that which was mine to give. It was a choice. Far better to choose your own confessions and your own sacrifices than have someone choose for you.” And then Eldrith’s final words landed. She did not bristle, or defend herself. She did not flee or argue or laugh it off. She just seemed to deflate. The fight in her seemed to fade away as her shoulders dropped and her eyes closed, an expression of profound grief. She stood there for a while trying to find the words, any words, to answer that question. And when she finally made her decision and opened them again to look at Eldrith, there were tears brimming there, and a hint of desperate plea in her voice that seemed genuine, and the words spilled forth like they had been brimming beneath the surface just waiting for someone to pause and listen.

“I don’t know!” She confessed in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t want to be. I want to be your ally, Rohan’s ally, to have friends and loyalties again but... I’m scared that I cannot be that any more. I’m not like you Eldrith. I couldn’t leave my past behind and make a new life; my demons are within me and I take them everywhere I go. Every day is a battle against their malicious whims and nefarious designs. I tried for so long to put the past behind me, and for a time I did. But then I saw the evil cancer that was festering in the cells at Helm’s Deep and twisting this good land with his presence, and I knew what needed to be done, and that I was the only person who could see it done, who would not fall to his manipulations and charms. And I did it, for Rohan, for my land and my people but... it broke me. It unleashed something inside me that I had put at rest and now that demon will not sleep again. It whispers to me, it sees weakness and opportunity and my fingers itch to take advantage of them. I tried, as impossible as it is to believe me I have tried to find the honourable road again, but my feet stumble on the path time and again, because I know that is the way of fools and reckless martyrs. I want to protect my friends, the people I care about, but I don’t give a damn about valour and honour and glory any more; I realise now that all of that nonsense about oaths and duty is just a manipulative tool to lead the gullible to their deaths and stop them questioning why it must be that way. Now my eyes have been opened to the futility of it all, the pointlessness of the sacrifice and the service, I cannot shut them again. Every day people commit themselves to those vows and not once do they realise the sacrifices they are being forced to make. I made them, time and again; I sacrificed everything I had to the cavalry more than once, more than anyone could ever know, and what did it gain? These lands are still crawling with foes, malice and cruelty still persevere in the heart of our home. And I see it; every day I see the crumbling ruin of my nation and feel the urge to plunge in the knife, half hoping that if I do so first I might save them a lethal blow and let them see their folly, half thinking to put them out of their misery.”

She stopped, panting for breath like she had run a mile and eyes a little wide, reminiscent of a cornered animal. But she did not flee. There was a tactical reason she had told this person her secret, that she had come here today of all days, that she had said all of this to Eldrith of all people. She still held a glimmer of hope that perhaps this person was the right person. The person she needed. She took a few more breaths to calm herself and turned toward the other woman. Her words were short now, surprisingly empty of emotion and perfunctory “Last night I glimpsed how much of a threat I could be to the Mark, and it terrified me and grieved me. So I tried to take my own life. But someone stopped me.” She opened her palms peaceably, showing Abe held no weapons within them. “If you think me a threat, then you have it in your power to stop me here. To end this. I saw that potential in you on the Campian sands. So. Here’s your chance. I give it willingly.” Her eyes held Eldrith’s gaze, her expression a mixture of desperation, defiance, guilt, acceptance, entreaty, fear, under-shadowed by just the faintest glimmer of hope.

[Fuin Elda]

Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Trewyn was almost sad when it was time for Taeth to go, she found the woman a good friend even though she still mothered her a fair bit. She hoped that most of what she said and suggested helped her out and gave her some sense of what she could do and that she had support even if it wasn't from her traditional family. It was one of the few times she'd had another woman about that she could talk to regularly, after all homesteads in this part of the Mark were fairly spread apart so it wasn't common to have visitors regularly especially if you were only a small homestead.

She fixed a big breakfast with eggs and bacon and bread and porridge and milk. Everyone ate with gusto, it was the biggest meal they had had in a while and was their farewell meal for their newest member of their family. She even made sure to make a few extra boiled eggs into the pot and some more fresh bread as the gift that they had been going to give her had ended up being eaten in their home. These she tucked in the bag that Taeth had givent hem with the traveling rations she'd give them when she had first arrived with the salty sausage that Trewyn had stuck into a stew pot to get the salt out of it and make it a bit more palatable. The girls for their part gave Taeth hugs good bye like they were hugging an older sister she sent Esterun into the house to grab the travel bag that had been left in the kitchen, she didn't want Taeth to have time to refuse the small gift.

She couldn't stop her eyes from tearing slightly as Taeth pulled out a small piece of folded cloth and gave it to her - her a beautiful soft handkerchief she hugged Taeth tightly as the Second Marshall gave her a hug, one of the first that she had initiated. "I hope you never forget that no matter what happens you will always have a place in our home, where ever we make it." She said softly as the two women broke their hug as Esterun returned and gave her skirt a gentle tug. She wiped a tear and smiled as she tucked the handkerchief into the top of her bodice, and took the bag from the girl. "We don't have a gift for you in the same way but I've packed you a loaf of bread and boiled some eggs for your first few days of journeying, better than the salty sausage." She said with a little laugh and hugged her again and the girls gave the mare gentle strokes on her nose while the horse waited for them to tuck the small bag away in the saddle bag, Taeth tried to protest the small gift of food but Trewyn wouldn't hear it a loaf and some eggs were not a stretch for the small family.

For her part Trewyn stood and watched as Taeth left, the girls running along beside as she road away giggling and laughing and calling farewell until they turned back and ran back to their mother, it didn't take long for her to disappear over a rolling hill and slip from sight with them giving her one final wave before they got back to working on the manor, and life in it's daily grind.

@WRONG LEVER KRONK!