Life in the Mark II (Free RP)

Where now are the horse and rider? In here, probably.
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At the gates of Edoras: @Aodh Hammerhelm @Taethowen

The lad from Gondor sat in the shadow of the gatehouse of Edoras. Nuthatch, his horse, was ready to ride. She stamped at the ground and snorted, but Cal' sat a bit longer. He had his errand satchel and some food for the journey. The day looked good for travelling , it was bright after the rain and he could see the river winding away into the distance.

Still he didn't move. He had wanted to say a goodbye to Sheemie and Beda, and find out if the search for her brothers and sisters had been successful. He looked over his shoulder up the path that led to the old town and the Riddermarket. He saw something pink above the heads of the people on the street. A lady's pretty hat, he thought. For walking on a sunny day.

Well, it was no good waiting. Cal' had left a message for Sheemie with Mal & Amethyst, their Dwarf friends. He would see everyone in three days.

"Off we go, Nutters," he called to his horse. "But not too fast, I want to enjoy the view, and we have a long way to go." The horse cantered down the hill towards the river.

As they travelled Cal' heard a loud wailing sound. He looked over at a tall hill that stood in the burned party field. The lad from Gondor thought he saw a person on top of the hill. A Rider (Sighard) was moving up the hill towards the sound of crying.

The Gondorian wondered what to do. Travel on to Minas Tirith or investigate? The crying could be one of Beda's family!

Cal' turned Nuthatch away from the river and rode to the hill. He rode halfway up and stopped. He could hear a voice now. The crying had stopped and he waited to hear what was going on.
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Ford of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

The Forgoil's (Sighard) voice rang out over the hill. Bambu lowered the screaming baby (Léo), and cradled him in his arms as his eyes swept over the Strawhead and his horse.

“Westu Pale-Rider, hal!” he said, summonsing up the words, and manners, his cousin-brother had taught him. “Bambu, am I, of Kalumba’s tribe. We Wildmen, but good-men. We mean no harm, we never served White Hand or Red Eye.”

The Dunlending’s gaze flicked towards the big-house-town; another Rider-man (Calimir) was coming across the plain. He turned his dark eyes back on the nearest Strawhead, and rocked the child in the crook of a brawny arm.

“Bambu come in peace,” he said, lifting his free hand in a gesture of goodwill. “He not see boy in river, only this ngani by tree roots on bank. Business? I know not what you mean. This boy he my cousin-brother’s, I take him to your big-house-town. Bambu do good deed so his chief’s son will also live!”


--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

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Æric at Lailyn's house

He was having none of it, immediately waving it off, as of course he would break it down to useful firewood. To him it wasn't even an option to just leave it. He was on his third run to move the boards when she re-emerged from her room causing him to stop in his tracks for just a second. Only barely did he manage to swallow the comment that immediately sprang to mind as he realised that was far too familiar given that she was a customer and one he had just met as well. Swallowing hard instead, he gave her a nod as she told him where to find her should he need anything, quickly tearing his eyes away before his cheeks warmed too much.

Reaching the pile of boards outside he took a moment to take a deep breath after dropping his armful, one hand reaching up to scratch his head. What on Arda had gotten in to him? Why was he acting like a smitten youngster around her? It was not like he had never interacted with other women or had female customers. So why was this any different? Looking back at the house as if he could see her, his brows furrowed though no easy answer sprang to mind. However as he rubbed his eyes he could not help but picture her stood there with her hair down and bare feet, forcing him to shake his head to clear his thoughts and having to make a concious decision to keep his mind on his work and not on her.

Shoulders set, he walked back into the house, quickly clearing it of the boards now that she was out back in the garden working. He decided to add those extra nails now while she was outside, hanging his bag of nails from his belt and pulling out his trusty hammer that been handed down from father to son over the past one hundred and fifty years. Half crawling, half squatting he shifted across the remaining floor, hammering in nails to add extra support, again shaking his head at the shoddy work of whomever had laid the floor in the first place.

It took him no more than an hour to finish with the nails and he allowed for a brief break to drink some of his water and try one of her honeycakes. He was not a good cook, by any sense of the word and he definitely could not bake. Which meant that any baked goods he had had was usually something gifted to him or to Edda where she would take a few bites and not want the rest. But as he took his first bite his eyes went wide at the taste as he let out a grunt of approval at the delicious taste. "Wow.." he mumbled, quickly eating the rest of the small cake. He eyed the rest on the plate, but managed to control himself, even though they did receive a few more looks before he headed back to work.

For the next few minutes he measured up the hole so that he knew how many boards he would need to cut. He would have to head back to his shop to do that, however as he looked out to let Lailyn know he was heading off for a bit, he could not quite see where she was so he left her to it, making sure to close her front door as he made the short trek home. It only took him a few hours to saw the boards into the sizes he needed as he had already cut the long logs into planks the day before. Gathering all the new boards for her floor on a pull cart so that he did not have to go back and forth several times, he made his way back to Lailyn's house.

He did knock on the door, but seeing as she was out back he pushed the door open and bundled all his boards into the house, ready for use. The heat of the day had hit it's peak and he wiped the sweat from his brow before he took another long swig of his waterskin and allowed for another of the delicious honeycakes. Pulling his shirt off, he laid it to one side as he grabbed a board and set to work, occasionally having to sand a bit off before hammering it into it's new home. As soon as he got going, he lost all track of time which he tended to do when he got stuck into his work, making sure each of the boards were flush with the remaining floor with the barest amount of crack between each.

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Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
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Fords at the Snowbourn, Outside Edoras


Sighard watched closely as the Dunlending answered his questions, searching for any sign of deceit or ill-intent, but saw none. Not in the way he stood, or cradled the babe in his arms. When Bambu looked back toward Edoras, Sighard was surprised to see another rider (Calimir) heading in their direction as well. It seemed the infant's cries had not gone unheard otherwise.

"Westu Bambu hal," Sighard nodded, but did not dismount yet. "Do you know the name of the man you seek? If you are hesitant to enter the city, perhaps I can take the child instead."

Sighard didn't think the man meant any harm for the child, but he didn't know anything about the man either. He wasn't going to ride away and leave him with alone with the child. Not if something else might spook him, and cause him to run away with the child altogether.


@Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool

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North bank of the Snowbourn: NPC Leoflida

Lida did not like naps; in fact, she liked sleeping very little in general. Too much might be happening without her there to participate or watch. Bedtime was always a struggle with Mam, one which Lida usually won. Mam would go off to bed, leaving Lida singing softly or playing quietly on her cot. Naps were all but nonexistent now.

But she had slept very little the night before and the morning’s adventure had worn her out. She was not aware of being laid on the cot, nor of the blanket that covered her completely. As she slept she dreamed again of the voice calling her, but now it was the dark bird calling in a voice that was almost human.

The aroma of food awakened her. The blanket covered her eyes and she had a brief moment of panic. She flung the covering from her face, half expecting to be in her own cot with Mam stirring up a bowl of porridge for their breakfast. Instead she found herself in a strange room, with strange smells. She slipped off the cot and toddled through the curtain into a larger room.

There was the man with the bracelet that she coveted, fussing over a fire where she hoped something good would be cooking. Not that horrid gruel they usually had.

Lida waited on the far side of the room and called out, “Lida hungry!”


Worthy Cottage, Auld Town, Edoras: NPC Beda

Sheemie was gone before Beda had a chance to protest. But even as the door closed behind him, she was glad. A moment or two alone was just what she needed, a chance to gather her thoughts and make a plan.

She sat down, picked up the bread, pulled off a small chunk, and popped it into her mouth distractedly. Little by little she managed to eat what Sheemie had left her, though she had no care for food. Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she ate, but she had at least formed a plan. If the children were inside the walls, they were safe. They should search beyond the gate first, then double back to town to go door by door inquiring, if necessary.

Beda wiped her cheeks, swept the crumbs from the table, made a mental note to come thank the Hammerhelms when they returned to Edoras, then headed off to the North gate to find Sheemie.


@Aodh Hammerhelm

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Wamba the Fool

The Fool had pushed his shaggy-coated mountain ass as fast as he could go at first, well-knowing he'd never be able to keep up with the dryhtguma's mount, but he slacked off when things didn't immediately end in steel and blood. (The ass would never let the Fool know it, but he rather enjoyed the run, generally getting little opportunity for such things in the Fool's service.) Eventually Wamba drew up by Sighard, staring curiously at Bambu's appearance and the seeming incongruence of the babe in his arms.

Ah well, the Fool thought to himself, The wildman probably didn't expect a forgoil with bells in his hair wearing motley, and riding a stubby-legged thing, either.

Wamba nodded at Bambu and appended to Sighard's last statement: "Indeed, we have no quarrel with you - will you let us aid the child?"


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Lailyn’s house with Æric
Lailyn armed herself with a pair of thick leather gloves, a finely woven veil and a smoker to help calm the bees while she checked their hives. She didn’t always take such measures but with them settling in their new home, it was worth a bit of caution. Her worries were unfounded. The first colony was doing just fine and there was already more honey in some of the frames she checked. Some would be fully sealed with wax soon and ready to harvest one last time before winter while ensuring they had enough honey to survive the cold months.

She tried to work efficiently to prevent them being too disturbed but mostly they didn’t seem to mind. They buzzed happily about without a care in the world and hovered around the garden moving from one flower to another. Daisies and roses and a burst of yellow poppies. It was strangely peaceful with the steady hum of the bees and when she finished, she peeled off her protective gear and took it all in. The sun was pleasantly warm on her face and she breathed in the sweetness of the roses and the soothing scent of lavender. She felt a bit of pride then. Maybe she could really do this.

After she finished with the hives, she popped back inside for something to eat and found the house empty. She peeked outside the front door and just glimpsed Æric disappearing down the street. His work must be going well if he was already heading back to fetch the planks for the new floor. Before she closed the door, she glimpsed the pile of old flooring chopped in a neat stack. Somehow, it did not surprise her and though she was perfectly capable, and proud, of the fact that she mostly took care of herself, it was nice of him to do.

But she told herself there was nothing more to it, he was just doing his job. After the Lake-town disaster, meeting decent people was a breath of fresh air and that was all. She sat down for a quick bite of lunch; a slice of cheese, bread slathered with berry preserves followed by a honeycake before she returned to work in the garden.

The afternoon wore on while she dug up weeds and managed to get a few more plants and seeds sown into the ground until the heat and sun and hard work drove her seek a rest. Wiping the dirt from her hands, she made her way to the house to fetch some water. When she opened the back door everything she had just convinced herself about what she was feeling completely disappeared.

Apparently she had forgotten the missing floor was right next to the back door. Exactly where he was working. She hesitated with one hand still on the doorknob as she took in the sight of him in her house, without a shirt on (again), sweat glistening… No. She had firmly told herself not to make eyes at him and she would try not to. It wasn’t like she'd never seen it before. Still, I am a horrible person, she thought.

Releasing her grip on the door, she took a hesitant step forward and glanced down at the floor. It was looking much less like a mess and more like an actual floor. “It looks good,” she offered, then suddenly realised that he could quite possibly misinterpret her words. “The floor, I mean,” she added quickly, feeling her cheeks warm and hoping the summer heat would account for it. “Um, I just came to get some water, but I’ll just go around front if it’s easier…I don’t want to get in your way," she spoke in a quiet voice and felt her throat tightening with nervousness. Meanwhile, her mind yelled at to tell her to get it together already.

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The North Gate, Edoras: NPC ~ Sheemie Rheus

Beneath the shadow of the City gatehouse Sheemie waited patiently for Beda. He stood musing on how lucky he had been, tucked up in his bed, when the fires came to Edoras. He didn’t even know they’d happened; he’d slept through all the excitement, even though there must have been all sorts of noise going on.

Where had the bairns gone, Beda’s broers and sweosters? Edoras was not a very big town, and people there were friendly. If the wee ones had stayed in the city walls someone would have found them by now. Unless they was sleeping in a barn, or hiding in a ditch!

No, Sheemie concluded, as his sweoster had over her breakfast, if the children were in Edoras they would be safe, if they had gone out beyond the walls, maybe not. The burly lad’s head swivelled east to west, taking in the vista below the town.

They couldn't have gone east, not unless they were crazy. There’d been a big fire there, the grass by the party field was all burned and brown. The flames would have chased them that-a-way... over the road, where the grass was green and sweet, all the way down to the Snowbourn.

That’s were him and Beda should explore, down by the river!

Sheemie doffed his gardening hat, and fanned his broad face with the pink sombrero. Beda would be glad of Missy Eléo’s nice cool dress - it was hot already, even in the shade.


-- @Eléowyn

A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPC ~ Bran Wænnfót

The pottage was almost ready the wortels, kol and grain tender, and the sauce thickening nicely. He’d add the fish-paste after the girl had eaten. The gloop would please his uncle, but it was fierce stuff, an acquired taste and apt to upset a delicate belly.

Bran placed sides of gammon into a frying pan and gazed out of the hut’s door. There was still no sign of onkel Symo’. But he’d not be long in the coming, he had to work quickly, get the girl squared away before the old sot got home. Bran stirred the bubbling pot, flipped the sizzling ham, and thought of how best to conceal the child.

“Good morning!” he chimed, grinning his winning smile as he turned to face Lida. “Up all ready, and just in time for breakfast. It’s almost done, I hope you like veggie stew with bacon? I need you to sit quietly while I finish up. Come over here, sit in this nice armchair and enjoy the fire. I’m just stepping out… I’ll be back soon.”

The boy hurried from the hut, over to the woodshed around the back of the rude abode. This was his secret place, a space safe from the prying eyes (and work-shy hand) of his uncle. Bone collecting was Bran’s hobby, but plants and tinctures were his passion – his calling, do you kennit.

Hidden from view, in a niche along the back wall of the shed, stood a line of clay jars and phials; they bore no markings, no names or cautions, but Bran knew them all well and their purpose. He selected a thin green vial, slipped it into a pocket, and placed three logs carefully over his secret apothecary.

“Here’s Bran!” he said, as he stepped back into the hut. “Is Lida ready for her breakfast? Good, the gammon’s ready…” He placed a slice of bacon onto a wooden board, casting a furtive glance at the girl as he found a bowl for her pottage.

Two drops would do the trick… two and no more. He’d tested the potion meticulously during preparation; first on himself, in the yard beside the crude sundial he’d erected, and then on his uncle, when the beggar’s mood became fey, and his whip-hand overeager.

Yes, two drops and she’d be off to dreamland until late evening. That would give him time to gauge his uncle’s mood and figure out his next move.

“Here you are, sweet-heart,” Bran said, crouching beside Lida, his eyes bright with anticipation. “Eat it all up, then we can go out and find you some nice shiny trinkets - or, if you’d like, your family.”


--

Ford of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

Bambu eyed the Forgoil keenly, (Wamba), not the one on his left (Calimir), the one downhill on the horse that smelled different to the Strawhead mounts, or the one who had spoken first (Sighard).

The Forgoil seated on the stub-legged ass had a wise and noble face, bright charms were tied in his hair. The Man reminded Bambu of Ilco, the tribe’s sangoma. Here, surely, was a Strawhead of power and authority, a shaman and a leader.

But Bambu had to be certain - Kalumba’s child’s life was tied to his decision.

A deep fleeting shadow fell over the hilltop. Bambu‘s heart quickened. Behind the Riders a dark swirling cloud scudded down the length of the River and descended on a wood on the northern shore.

Crebain! Gorcrows! It was time for palaver!

Bambu keep child,” he said to the Riders, gazing firmly at the sage-feller. “Bambu child’s uncle, him like blood-family. I give to father only, or mighty captain.

Where Rust-man? Bring him to me from big-house-town. If he not there, bring King to Bambu - bring him quick-quick!”


--
@Taethowen & @Wamba_the_Fool

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Æric at Lailyn's house

He slowly pushed the sharpened plane over the board to ensure that the board was level with the one next to it. He was just running his fingers over the two boards to feel if there was still any difference when the door behind him opened. Sitting back on his legs he twisted to look at her, pausing for a moment as she stood there framed by the door, the sun shining brightly behind her and setting her hair alight so it shimmered like gold. Without even knowing it he smiled as he took in her sunkissed cheeks only then realising that she had spoken.

"What? Oh! No, feel free to come in this way.. " Coughing to clear the tightness in his throat he shifted aside slightly to allow her to pass. "They are good enough to walk on now" he added as he looked down at his work, half of the floor done. Had he not been so attentive to making sure each board was perfectly level he would be done by now, however he took great pride in making sure all of his work was as good as it could be, not just because he wanted to make it as good as possible for her, he would have done that regardless.

Still on the floor, he pulled his own waterskin to him and took a long swig of it, realising that he had not been remembering to drink in this heat. Aware of the silence, he cleared his throat again, wondering if he should say something or not, though eventually blurted out "Those honeycakes are really good!" Feeling self-conscious at his outburst he quickly added "Edda would love them too, but then she loves almost all cakes. She doesn't get that many. Or well she didn't used to, though she has been geting more here in the city than ever before.." His voice petered out as he realised he was rambling now, giving his face an embarrassed scratch.

Looking down at the board in front of him, he ran the plane over it once more as he was completely at a loss as to why this woman was making him feel so out of sorts and self-conscious. He hadn't even been this way with.. Kara. A wince crossed his face, his mood darkening at the thought of his wife, giving his head a slight shake as if to rid himself of those thoughts.

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Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
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Fords at the Snowbourn, Outside Edoras


Sighard saw the Dunlending's eyes shift to the man he'd met by the river (Wamba), and focus on him. Clearly, there was something there which Bambu was connecting with, and if the other man could help alleviate the tension, Sighard would welcome it. He hated negiotiations.

Something caught Bambu's eyes behind them, though, and Sighard glanced over his shoulder. Concern filled him as noticed the swarm of crebain descend upon the woods, and wondered what part it might play in all this. What could be happening in Edoras that children were getting mixed up in Dunlend happenings?

"Bambu keep child," Bambu said, then followed it up with demands for someone he called Rust-man, or to have the King brought to him. Sighard kept his face calm, but his thoughts were whirling, unsure of what action to take, glancing over at Wamba to see if he might glean some insight from the man.

"This... Rust-man. Do you know what name he might be called here in the Mark?" Sighard asked Bambu. "I do not know how to find him without it."

@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool

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Frost
Returning from Meduseld to Taethowen’s House

His mood was black and stormy, a contrast to the bright light outside. Frost did not like dealing with royalty. In one way or another they always seemed to come down to the same thing: wealth and prestige. The King of the Rohirrim was less so, but he still had that stink about him. The bag of coins hung heavy on his belt. He was aware of every clink the coins inside made. It was not a large purse, but it was enough. Problems could not be solved with money. Problems must be solved by action. If he had to hunt this Marshal, or ex-Marshal as it were, down on his own, then he would, by the fathomless depths he would find her and then justice would be served. He let out an angry, frustrated sigh. He was, however, impressed with Taethowen’s rage. He had not expected that to appear within a private audience with the king. Now there was a woman with fire! If only she would learn not to be so embarrassed by it. That was the only thing that marred her performance within the Throne Room was the regret she seemed to display once her rage had been spent. She should have reveled in it! Frost would have.

The wound on his hand pulsed and throbbed with a strange life. Sensations moved through him arrhythmically, separate from the beating of his heart. There was a life to this wound that was all its own. The Númenórean flexed his hand. There wasn’t much pain. It itched like any other superficial cut but there was something else to it. He would have brooded on it further, but they arrived at Taethowen’s house soon after and he embraced her in a passionate kiss.

She broke the kiss to confirm that he was okay and tried to extract another promise from him. He smiled lazily and hooked a finger under her chin. He was about make an excuse when suddenly something within him began to burn. His chest felt like it was about to burst with heat. He staggered back from Taethowen, slamming into a wall to keep himself from toppling over. The heat crawled up his face like a dragon’s fire. He only managed a grunt of surprise and pain before the sudden feverish onslaught abated. He was left breathless, gasping for air. He looked at the Rohir across from him, his countenance a mask of confusion, anger, and sudden fear. His hand throbbed wildly. A sick feeling surged in his stomach. He only just kept from puking as the wave passed over him and left him woozy. The room was spinning as he looked around.

“What…” he tried to say when suddenly his stomach seized and bend him double. He crumpled to the floor, unable to withstand the sudden onslaught. His breathing was shallow, and his hands shook. Heat crawled up his face and turned him a bright red. His extremities tingled like tiny needle pinpricks. His stomach seized again, and he growled his pain. Again, he looked up at the Rohir as if in search of an answer, but she seemed as confused as he was by the abrupt change in mood. “What… the hell…” he said breathlessly.

Then his eyesight clouded, and a vision passed over his eyes like a veil. There was a figure, a woman perhaps but it was hard to tell. Any distinguishing features were blurry and fuzzed. The only thing he could see clearly was her flaming red hair. She stood before a burning ship. The great three-masted lugger roared and crackled as red, orange, and golden flames devoured it. The sight was something to behold. Before he could even register it though, it dissolved and he was back within Taethowen’s house.

Something moved in the shadows. A massive black shape detached itself from the inner darkness. He was tall. Huge. He was so massive that Frost’s great height was outmatched. The man stood nearly a foot taller. His eyes were a poisonous and luminous yellow. Despite the lack of moving air within the confines of Taethowen’s house, his hair moved and shifted, borne about by some magical means. His mouth opened. A vast, yawning gulf accentuated with fangs. Frost’s skin prickled into gooseflesh, he gulped hard as all his previous pain was forgotten. He stood on shaky legs; his chest heaved with exhaustion.

“You are the one they call Frost, no?” His voice boomed like thunder and left an uncomfortable ringing in Frost’s ears, a screeching high-pitched sound just on the edge of his hearing.

Frost squeezed the bridge of his nose as a headache began to rapidly form and splinter out behind his eyes. His eyes remained open as he watched the vampire warily. His hands felt as though they were made of lead. He tried to reach for the sword that hung on his hip but his movements were far, far too slow. The keen eyes of the vampire saw it and before Frost’s hand even close about the hilt, the vampire’s own massive blade was ripped from the shadows and pointed at Frost’s throat. The blade was long, at least five feet with a tapered. The blade itself seemed expertly crafted but remained unadorned by jewels or engravings. It was a killing weapon.

“Don’t,” his words were simply but impossible to disobey. Frost’s hands went limp at his side. He tried to find Taethowen in all the sudden movement but she was obscured. The vampire took nearly all of Frost’s vision. “I’ve come to escort you to the Iron Queen, I am Arioch. You have tarried overlong here in the lands of the Horse Lords. Your absence has been noted.”

Frost inhaled sharply. He nodded. What else could he do? A sudden heaviness weighed on his chest. He blinked and the vampire disappeared, moving through the portals of the shadows. He was once again left in the room alone with Taethowen.

“I had hoped,” he said after a tense, sad moment, “that we would have had more time.” He pulled her in for a deep, final kiss then broke away, his face a mask, hiding the surging feelings of regret. “I must away. As you heard, I have tarried here in this place for far too long. Goodbye, Taethowen.”

He moved away before she could respond, not trusting himself not to do something foolish. He exited the house and made haste to the stable where his black destrier was waiting for him, saddled and ready. The vampire stood next to the horse. Frost did not marvel that the beast was not shying away from the vampire because he had trained the horse specifically to be at ease around the creatures of the Black Lands. He neighed and stamped his foot impatiently.

“Even your steed chafes to be away,” he said, his voice booming and ringing in Frost’s ear.

Without a word, and without looking back, Frost mounted the large equine and nudged him silently into a trot. They moved through the city like ghosts, silent and ethereal. The vampire was nowhere to be seen, not a marvel with the sun still ablaze in the sky. Frost knew he was close though. His hand throbbed still. The Númenórean passed through city gates and turned to the horse north.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Who's Your Daddy?
(Private with Moriel)

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Walpurga blubbered, trying to fight off the flaming embarrassment that threatened to overtake her. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably and her field of vision seemed to narrow so much that all she could see was the man’s, Kamion’s, face. He looked so genuinely concerned, or at least what she thought was genuine concern, it had been so long since she’d seen it. The sun appeared right behind, giving him a halo. Walpurga, if she were not on the edge of a panic attack, would have found that hilariously appropriate.

“Am I alright?” She repeated the question and thought it was the most ridiculous question he could ask, but he had no way of knowing that. “Am I…” she slumped against the wall behind her. It was a ridiculous question but it still pierced the carefully crafted armor she put on every day over her clothing, the armor that kept the creeping loneliness from making itself too visible. The mask of happy serenity slipped from her face and her eyes began to well. “I… I… I…” her mind refused to form words. She tried to swallow the massive lump in her throat.

She wanted to disappear into the crowd of people passing by. Scores of blonde and brunette Rohirrim passed them, not even one stopped or even looked at them. They were all either so wrapped up in their own conversations or were too busy looking conspicuously away from the pair to even notice something existing outside of their world. A gaggle of women passed them, one sizing up Kamion’s considerable height before getting dragged away by her fellows. A few men looked darkly at the Gondorian but also hurried along, taking in his massive size.

“No… I’m not alright,” Walpurga finally managed.

Hold your tongue girl! Why would he even care? It’s not like he actually wants to know!

She took a deep breath, shuddering and shaking as she did. She squeezed her eyes shut and wiped the single tear that made its way passed. She needed to put the mask back on, need to shore up the chink in her armor. Why did she have to go and think this random passerby was her father?! Blasted fool! Galloping stars but what her mother would say!

“It was nice to meet you Kamion, son of Darellon Balakân. I’m… never mind I already told you my name,” she tried to laugh but the sound was hollow and squeaky. “I’m so sorry for that back there… I don’t know what came over me.”

Silently, she prayed that he wouldn’t press further. But she knew. She knew the mask had slipped. It had nearly come clean off. It still didn’t fit right, the tall Rohir could still feel the well of tears ready to overflow at the slightest provocation.

Why hadn’t she opened up to him? Probably for the same reason she realized it was a foolish, gallopingly dense idea that this random stranger from Gondor might be her father. Because there’s no reason he would care. Kind though he might seem on the outside, he had no stake in her happiness or her inner thoughts. Still the lump in her throat would not go away nor would the well of tears recede. Why couldn’t something come and swallow her whole and let her avoid this embarrassment? She wanted nothing more than to cuddle little Brocktree.

And then the damn broke.

Tears. All of them.
Last edited by Akhenanat on Sun Jan 17, 2021 4:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
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A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPC Leoflida

Lida was torn between beginning to feel a little homesick and wanting something to eat, with a promise of shinies afterwards. The mention of gammon sealed the deal. She nodded her head then clambered onto a chair and put out her hands to receive the bowl.

The food was different from the way Mam cooked, but then they rarely had meat, so it tasted delicious to Lida. She ate it all without saying a word, then slid off the chair and put out her hand. “Lida want shinies now,” she said, taking Bran’s hand and tugging him toward the door. She made it just outside the hut when her eyes became heavy. Lida no want to sleep more, was her last thought before her hand slipped free and she slid to the ground.


Heading to the North Gate, Edoras: NPC Beda

Beda had pulled the door carefully closed behind her as she left the abode of the Hammerhelms and was now hurrying through the streets toward the North Gate. She hoped Sheemie had not tarried along the way and would be awaiting her where he said.

He was easily spotted, the pink sombrero was like a signal amidst the usual grays and browns and greens of the city. Her pace quickened as soon as she saw him, and she had to lift her skirt to avoid tripping as she ran the final yards toward him.

“Sheemie,” she said, then pausing a moment to catch her breath. “Sheemie, we need to look outside the city first. Do you think we should search separately, or should we stick together? I … I have not been outside the walls in, well, I cannot remember when!” She straightened up her shoulders, afraid of being thought cowardly. “But I am not afraid! I will go wherever I need to go to find my brothers and sisters.”


@Aodh Hammerhelm

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Who's Your Daddy?
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Private with Frost)

There seemed almost to be a laugh in her voice as she repeated his question, but it quickly faded into gulping distress. “No... I’m not alright,” she said, and though it was surely true, Kamion had not been expecting her to say it. It was rare to receive a genuine answer to that particular question, and precious when one did. Walpurga did laugh then, dashing away a tear, but there was no mirth in it. He tensed ever so slightly in preparedness at the past tense of her phrasing, thinking she might try to run again. But instead, the young Rohir’s face broke, and crumbled. Loneliness and despair rolled off her in waves as she sobbed, the tears flowing freely down her face now. Kamion might not have been her father, or anyone’s, but he had been mentor and father figure to many young soldiers trying to find their way in the world- and you didn’t need to be a father to understand when a person needed help and comfort. With a hesitation born of caution and respect rather than fear, the Dúnadan reached out and took Walpurga’s hand. When she did not pull it away, he stepped closer, close enough to gently pull her to him.

At first, she seemed to freeze, tension filling her body like a fearful rabbit. But then, miraculously, she relaxed, sagging against him as the sobs wracked her body, and Kamion’s strong arms went around her: one wrapping around her torso to press a hand against her back and support her against his chest; tall though she was, her head burrowed against his shoulder. His other arm came around her shoulder, and his large hand gently cradled the back of her head. For what seemed a long time, he merely stood and held her, heedless of the passers-by. At length, she began to quieten, and he murmured, “Walpurga, whatever grieves you, you can overcome.” Kamion took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. “I won’t tell you it’s all going to be fine. Because it might not, and it obviously isn’t now. But you can come through whatever it is.” He slackened his grip and stood back from her, far enough to look her in the face. “Come back with me to the inn, and let me buy you a meal.” He inflected the sentence up at the end, turning it into a question rather than a command. On receiving her affirmation, Kamion led Walpurga back to the inn, one arm still about her shoulders.

The doors fell open easily before his hand and they re-entered the busy inn, and Kamion cheerfully ignored the brief drop in the noise level that greeted their arrive. They had exited in rather a dramatic fashion, after all, but apparently the room’s occupants decided they weren’t about to get any answers, and went back to their business as he and Walpurga crossed the room. His sword and his meal were right where he had left them, and he gestured to the young woman to take her previous seat across from his, before sliding back onto the bench himself. Bergljót came bustling over, bristling with curiosity, but Kamion merely smiled at her. “Another of your incomparable pies for my friend here, please, and maybe some more of those tartlets? Anything else you would like? A drink?” he asked Walpurga, and when she had answered, continued to Bergljót, “And please add anything from earlier this evening to my account as well. Thank you.” The Dúnadan turned back to the Rohir across from him as Berglót moved away, meeting her gaze with soft eyes. “Would you care to tell me what led you here tonight? Or what is causing you such pain? If you would prefer just to sit and eat,” he added with a smile, “that’s fine too. You have no obligation to me.”
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On a hill by the Snowbourn near Edoras:

Cal' listened carefully to the men's conversation on the hill top. There were three of them now: Sighard, a Rider, Bambu with the baby, and just arrived the man from the night of the fires, the man Cal would always think of as Mr Bells (Wamba).

The baby (Leo) had stopped crying, so the Gondorian could hear most of the men's talk. It seemed to be getting nowhere. This Bambu fellow seemed like he wanted to keep the child for someone named Rust-man. The name wasn't quite right, Cal had heard one like it recently but he couldn't place it.

A cloud made the light on the hill darken. The lad from Gondor watched a flock if crows whizz overhead. They landed down the valley by a wood. Something over by the city caught his attention. Something pink. Like most of the men of Gondor Cal' had good eye sight.

That's Sheemie and he's got someone with him. A girl.

Cal flicked Nuthatch's reins and galloped her back to the gates.

"Hey Sheemie! Hey Beda! I think we've found one of the children… A baby boy!'

Cal' leaned down from his saddle and held a hand out to Beda.

"You'll have to run after us, Sheemie, we're going to the hill by the river," the Errand-rider said to his friend.

>>>>>>>

@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Taethowen and @Wamba_the_Fool
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Lailyn’s house with Æric
Taking care to step lightly, Lailyn shuffled inside past him and gained a better appreciation for the new floor. It really did look good. She crossed the room to pour herself a cup of water and took her time with it, grateful for a moment to try to collect herself. After a generous sip of water, she summoned the courage to turn back around and face him just as he said, "Those honeycakes are really good!"

“Thank you,” she replied, pleased he had helped himself to them. “It was my mother’s recipe. I’m sure she’d be glad to know I remembered something she taught me.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “If Edda likes cakes, why don’t you take some home for her? They keep fresh for a while, but I made too many for just myself.” She cast her gaze around the house as if looking for something. “I’ll find a nice basket or something to put them in for you to take home.” Anticipating a possible protest, she met his eyes with a determined look. “And I won’t take no for an answer.” Her voice softened. “These things are meant to be shared. If you really don’t want them, then you can pass them on to someone else.”

She had not seen the sense in unpacking the kitchen just to move it all again, so most of the inessential cookware was still packed away. She turned away to rummage through a few boxes in search of something appropriate to pack them in but found only some pots and pans and herbs her aunt insisted she take with her. Drumming her fingers on the side of the box, she tried to think what else might do. If she couldn’t find a basket, then a simple cloth would have to do.

She stepped into her room and knelt down at a large chest that had been rather difficult to get inside past the broken steps. After pulling open the lid, her eyes widened and she took in a sharp breath. Her old bow sat on top of piles of folded clothes and other textiles. She had packed this chest herself and knew she had not put it there. Her aunt was well-aware, and very supportive, of her intentions never to use a weapon again. So how had it come to be here?

Just looking at it brought back old memories and her heart thrummed in her chest remembering what it was like in the midst of battle. The fear, the blood, the pain. The old panic she thought she was past threatened to break through. If she picked the bow up, she knew what would happen. She couldn’t fall apart again. Not here, not now. Not with someone in the next room.

Someone in the next room...The pounding of nails coming from the kitchen helped bring her back to the present. What was she doing again? She blinked her eyes and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. A cloth for the honeycakes...that’s right...her hands shook more than they should have as she reached in and pulled out a thick handkerchief. It would do nicely.

The lid fell back down with a thud and hid the bow from sight. But now she knew it was there, she could only put it off for so long. She would have to deal with it later. Clutching the handkerchief in her fist, she looked down at the chest. It looked so innocent now. No one would know it held haunted relics of the past.

She stood still for a few moments, waiting for the last of the shock to subside before she returned to the other room. Taking her time, she carefully and quietly wrapped up a few honeycakes, but her thoughts were still clouded by the sight of her old weapon. How many lives had she taken, how much blood spilled? She wondered and paused to rub her forehead as if it might somehow erase the thoughts.

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Ford of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

Bambu’s broad brow furrowed and his eyes darkened with suspicion as the first Forgoil (Sighard) spoke. He heard the horse of the man on his left (Calimir) clatter away towards the big-house-town. The sangoma-feller (Wamba), the one with the scraggly haired ass, seemed to pay him no heed.

“You!” he said, pointedly ignoring his inquisitor as he wagged a finger at the witch-doctor. “Why you no listen? You think Bambu lie?” The Wildman’s strident accusations stirred the baby (Léo) from its rest. The child began kicking and howling once more.

“This child, Rust-Man’s!” Bambu said, rocking the babe to and fro. “You know him! Must do! Rust-man mighty warrior – slay many bad Dunmen at big battle by Horn Rock. He give gifts to good Wildmen. He walk on water of Entwash. Him mighty chief in Forgoil Land. Why you not bring him?”

The harsh rattle of crow calls reached the hilltop. Bambu hawked loudly, and spat at his feet as turned to face the first Forgoil (Sighard).

“You ask of child in river! Him dead? Must be, Gorcrows come… They pick him clean - like tongue and eyes especial. Why you not look to dead, ngani? Gorcrows take his spirit to black land on far side of morning!”


--- @Calimir @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool


A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPC ~ Bran Wænnfót

Lida succumbed to Bran’s potion quicker than he’d expected; they’d barely stepped through the doorway when he felt her hand go limp. The bleached weasel skull he’d intended to lure her with spun away from his palm. The lad dropped to his knees beside the stricken girl and placed an ear to her chest.

Colour returned to his face as he heard the sound of her heart beat; the slow regular rhythm of sleep rather than the erratic flutter of impending death. He glanced back over his shoulder, down hill toward the river. Still no sign of onkel Symo’!

Bran lifted the girl in his arms and trotted over to the woodshed. She’d be warm enough here for now, snug as a bug until he’d time to think things through carefully.

The boy hunkered, and lay Lida over his legs as he prepared a space in the far corner of the shed. He built a wall of logs carefully around the stricken child, stood back, then added a few more for good measure. He’d return with blankets to make her comfy later, for now she was out of sight.

He closed the door behind him and latched it. As he made his way back to the hut he caught sight of movement in the valley. He hurried to the stove and placed a kettle next to the breakfast pot.


--- @Eléowyn
Last edited by Aodh Hammerhelm on Sun Sep 20, 2020 11:48 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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Outside the North gate: NPC Beda (Open RP)

Beda did not even hesitate. As soon as the boy (Calimir) said they had found a baby boy, she took his hand and jumped onto the back of the horse behind him. She had only been on a horse once, many years ago, with her arms wrapped tightly around her Pa’s waist, holding on for dear life. Just as she was doing now with Cal.

As they approached the hill, she peered around Cal and saw three men, but her attention was focused immediately on one. Standing atop the mound, with Léo in his arms, was a man unlike any she had ever seen. He would have been a frightening sight to her in other circumstances, but she felt no fear, only a need to get her brother in her arms safely.

She did not wait for Nuthatch to come to a complete stop. As soon as the horse had slowed enough for Beda to alight safely, she slid from the horse’s back and ran up the hill. “That’s my brother! Give him to me!” she demanded. “And where are the others? What did you do with my brothers and sisters?”


@Calimir @Aodh Hammerhelm @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

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Edoras, The Ride to the Ford:

Beda grabbed Cal's hand and he lifted her onto Nuthatch's back. When she had her arms around his waist, Cal' turned Nuthatch away from Sheemie.

"Hold tight!" he yelled to Beda. "Away Nutters!" Nuthatch took them quickly downhill and Cal' steered him at the green hill were the three men (Bambu, Sighard and Wamba) were facing off. Cal' could hear a baby shrieking as they raced closer.

They climbed the hill and Cal' pulled lightly on the horse reins. He aimed to steer Nuthatch between the men. But when he slowed Beda's hands loosened from his waist. Before he could stop her she was off Nutty's back and running to the top of the hill.

The lad from Gondor brought Nuthatch to a stop and climbed from the saddle. The horse was excited , stamping his feet and snorting. "Hush! Hush!" he said, stroking Nutty's mane. He held the horse still so it wouldn't rush forward and knock Beda (or the man with the baby!!!) over.

As Beda stood shouting Cal's eyes brightened. Rustman... Rustbucket... Of course!

>>>>>> @Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool
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Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
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Fords at the Snowbourn, Outside Edoras


Sighard hid his irritation and frustration as Bambu began to give agitated answers that he could not quite decipher.

"I am a young warrior," Sighard answered. "And there are many mighty warriors and mighty chiefs in this land. I myself have never encountered one called Rust-man.

"I have tended the dead as best can be done for now, and the living child is more important," Sighard continued, but before anything more could be said, the third rider (Calimir) finally reached them. A girl (Beda) slipped off the horse behind him, and at her words, a chill slowly crept up Sighard's spine.

"That's my brother! Give him to me! And where are the others? What did you do with my brothers and sisters?"

Two boys... there were two boys accounted for, then. The babe in Bambu's arms, and the dead child in the river.

"Girl!" Sighard barked at Beda. "How many are there? How many children are missing?"

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(aaand forgot to tag *everyone* lol: @Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool)

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Æric at Lailyn's house

He should have known that this would be the outcome, why did he never learn? Already poised to object, she sternly shot him down before he could even utter the words and he merely sighed and sat back on his legs again. He was not going to win this one so he let it go, though as Lailyn turned around to look for something, he chastised himself for even mentioning it. It was not like he did not appreciate gifts, in his old village everyone would share if they had too much of anything. He just felt awkward when it was with people he did not know and with people he hadn't already got a give and take situation going. He did not like feeling like he owed someone. He knew it was silly, but it was still something that he avoided when he could. Or when he wasn't acting like a smitten youngster around a pretty woman.

As Lailyn stepped into the other room, he returned to his work, his thoughts moving from the work itself and to why he was acting like he was these past couple of days. What was it about this woman that had him acting so differently, especially seeing as she did not seem like she was interested in him. But then why would she be? For all he knew she would be thinking he was married. Which technically he still was. For the umpteenth time he wondered what he was meant to do to annul the marriage, or if he had to stay married until either of them died. But again he shook his head and muttered "Why does it even matter.." as it was not like he was ever going to allow anyone into his heart again as first of all it was shattered to pieces but also who would even want someone who was still married and had a child.

Caught in the middle of his depressed thoughts, he coughed to clear his throat as Lailyn re-emerged from the other room, quickly returning to hammering the nails into the board that he had merely been staring at for several minutes. He could be happy without a woman in his life, he had the only joy he needed, his little girl. Without realising it, a small smile crawled on to his lips at the thought of her, trying his best not to think of her growing up and moving away to start a family of her own, clinging desperately to the image of her staying four forever, despite how stupid that notion was.

Almost hitting his thumb twice in a row, he decided it was probably a good time as any to take a lunch break, though he finished with the board he was working on before he slid the hammer into his belt and stretched his back.

"I am going to head out and eat my lunch.." he said as he got off the floor and headed over to pick up the basket of food Caddricks mother had made for him. Another woman being too kind. "Do you.. uh..umm.. want to join me? There is enough in here for both of us, Caddricks mother was really generous.. I was going to go to the stream, it seems a bit cooler there.." Feeling awkward, he slipped his shirt on and headed to the front door, waiting there for her response, part of him desperately wanting her to join him and part wondering why she even would.

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Ford of the Snowbourn: NPCs Sheemie Rheus and Bambu

Sheemie was surprised to see Cal' on horseback, and even more surprised by Beda's sudden burst of energy. His head was still making sense of his friend's news, but his sweoster wasn't so slow on the uptake. Before Sheemie could say "Lawks!" Beda had clambered onto Cal's horse and the pair were racing off toward the river.

Sheemie was big and bulky, and folks called him slow. That was true, he knew, but only in his head! He knew how to run, run quite fast, and he did so now. Turning on the burst of speed he'd used to help save Missy Eléo in Hostellers' Row once upon a when, he dropped his head, pumped his arms and legs and thundered down the road to the ford like a runaway wain.

As he huffed and puffed up the hill he heard several things through the blood thundering in his head. Rust-man… Gorcrows… Sheemie skidded to a halt beside Cal' and his horse. He saw a big, wild looking fellow (Bambu) holding a wailing baby on the grassy summit, and two Riders (Sighard and Wamba) sitting on horses. Beda stood between these men and she was yelling fit to split the sky.

"Youse got to get those two fellers away from here, Cal'," Sheemie whispered to the lad from Gondor. "They's talking of dead bairns… and hungry crows. Beda mustn't hear that. Make them take you to the river and see if you can find the other kinders - dead or alive!"

His friend whispered something in reply. Sheemie nodded and stepped onto the crest of the hill.

"What's going on‽" he hooted angrily at the two Riders. "Why hasn't you come to told us you found one of the bairns? Why didn't you bring this Wild-feller to us immedite like?

He's a friend of my boss, Arthur Heath, doncha knowed it? Some folks call him Goldwhæt, my boss, I mean, not this Wildman - or Rustbucket Dooley. M-O-O-N that spells Rustbucket, anybody knowed it! Are you Cavalry-soljers or a pair of…"

An image of the letter he and Cal' had been tasked to craft, flashed in the brawny lad's head, and the dread word Grima had taught him to write to Old Lady Sæmple.

That word nearly flew out of his mouth now, but he bit hard on his tongue and stopped it. Sheemie shook his head, gave the two Riders a hard look and said:

"The babbie is Beda's brother, he's safe now… We'll take good care of him, thank you very much. And this Wild-feller! Why don't you go along the river with my friend, Cal', and see if you can't find the other wee children?"

Sheemie turned his broad back on the Riders. He held his hands, palm up, toward Bambu, then tapped the base of his throat thrice. He stood alongside his sweoster, feet spread apart, eyes squinting in the sunlight, the pink sombrero pushed back on his head. There were no weapons hung upon his broad hips, yet he looked for all the world like one of Will Dearborn's last gu tet.

"Westu, Nkosi, I am Sheemie, son of Stephen. This is Beda, she's that baby's sister…"


"You Rust-man's daughter!" Bambu beamed at Beda. He knelt and held Léo out to her. "Come take brother, Bambu no hurt you!"


--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

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Fords of the Snowbourn: NPC Beda (Open RP)

Beda wasted no time snatching Léo from the Wild Man’s grasp. She snuggled the babe tightly against her shoulder, giving him a once over as she did so to make sure he was unharmed.

“Rust-man’s daughter?” she replied at last to Bambu, feeling confused. “No, I am Beda, daughter of Alman. But this is my brother, Léo.” She was relieved that the man had handed over Léo without a struggle, though she still did not trust him. But with the bairn now safely in her arms, and four men nearby to protect them, she was not afraid.

She turned to the man who appeared to be a Rider of the Cavalry (Sighard) to answer his question. “Five. There are five of them. They should have been all together. Léo here is the youngest. There are two other boys and two girls. They disappeared last night, during the fire.”

She turned to each of the men now surrounding her and the Wild Man, pleading with each in turn. “Can you help me find them? This man,” pointing to Bambu, “surely he knows something. How did he come to have Léo? He must have seen the others as well! Léo would not have been on his own! Please, make him tell me where they are!”

She was desperate now, happy to have the baby safe in her arms, but frantic to know why he was not with the others.


@Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

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On a hill below Edoras by the Snowbourn River:

Cal' swung his head left and right. And left and right! There was so much going on. He felt like he was watching a game of stick ball on the courts by Pelennor market. He was quite shocked by the way Sheemie shouted at the Riders (Sighard and Wamba) but supposed thats how you reacted if someone close to you was missing or dead.

At least the baby was safe in Beda's arms, but that didn't stop her excited shouts. Cal' looked over at the Wildman, Bambu then back at the Riders. We need a scout, he thought as he took a tethering peg from his belt and pushed it in the ground with a boot. Olimir or Sofia! They'd be perfect though they'd only gone to Ranger camp in Ithilien in spring to learn tracking. But they were miles away!

Cal' finished tying Nutter's reins to the peg and walked onto the hill. He stood right next to Beda and Sheemie and looked over at the Riders and spoke (to his own surprise) in a confident loud voice.

"Hile, Riders! I am Calimir an Errand-rider of Gondor. Beda and Sheemie are my friends. Leo is Beda's sister. I think they should take him to the infirmary to be checked over!

Are any of you scouts - we need a tracker, don't we? Bambu could do that. He is to be trusted... I know him from the Tub Race, where he worked for Rustbucket Dooley, Silaes and @Elarith. Isn't she also in the cavalry? I'm sure she is. Is she a scout? You can ask her to speak up for Bambu.

Cal' didn't mention that Elarith had worn a fake beard right through the days of the Tub Race, and acted like a pirate most of the time. That was just weird and might make the Riders even more suspicious and edgy.

>>>>>>>> @Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Taethowen & @Wamba_the_Fool
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Wamba the Fool

The Fool had been tense, confused, apprehensive, relieved, and amused, and had eaten his salad of reactions without the desired dressing of clarity gently drizzled overtop.

When there's a fire, he ruefully remonstrated himself, one generally knows what to do.

So after being asked where an unknown man was, and after being upbraided (ha!) for not knowing said unknown man, it was frankly a relief to the motleyed Wamba that the child's sister had him in her arms. Relief! What a delicious feeling!

Then she informed the surrounding humanity that there were four others missing and dismay was tossed on the salad. Sadness too, when the Fool recalled the encloaked bundle by the river.

Take another bite, Wamba my lad, the day's not over yet. 

The Fool's spirits rose with the arrival of the keen Gondorian lad who had acquitted himself manfully during the fire, especially since he vouched for some of the personages gathered 'round that were unknown to the itinerant rider.

"Westu Calimir hal," the Fool returned with a nod, "Your words about the boy sound good to me - I've no doubt they will come to no harm with this doughty fellow protecting them," he indicated Sheemie gravely.

"I've no formal training in pathfinding," he continued, "But I've got eyes, and the willingness to use them, Fool's eyes though they be."


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Taethowen's House, Edoras

Taeth shivered as Frost smiled, her head tipping back slightly as his finger slipped under chin. And then everything changed in an instant. The expression on his face shifted from seduction to confusion. His gaze broke away from hers, and he staggered backward until he slammed against the wall, a pained grunt escaping him. He looked up at her, gasping for breath, and for the first time since she'd met him, she saw true fear in his eyes.

She scrambled to pull her feet out from under her, to move from the table to the floor, as Frost doubled over, clutching at his stomach, before he crumpled. Not again! Her thoughts turned to panic as the image of him collapsing outside the burning pub pushed itself to the forefront of her mind, and her vision blurred, a trembling overtaking her that made her limbs freeze.

"What... the hell..." Frost's breathless gasp pulled her back from the edge of panic, at least for the moment. Just as she'd found her legs, feet slamming to the floor, something moved in the shadows. From them emerged a creature of the likes she'd never seen before. It seemed man-like for the most part, but was so tall the top of its head nearly scraped against the ceiling. Its sickly yellow eyes practically glowed, hair swaying and floating despite the stillness of the air. It didn't even look at her--fixating instead on Frost--and yet she stilled, her left hand clutching the edge of the table behind her, and her right hand ready to reach for the sword that still hung at her side. When the creature's mouth opened, a single word passed through her thoughts, the name of a creature she'd only heard about in myths and legends. Vampire.

"You are the one they call Frost, no?" Its voice rolled through the air and she couldn't help but flinch as the weight of it seemed to press upon her mind, pain echoing through her skull. Slowly, as quietly as she could, she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts despite the pain. Despite the panic swirling in her chest.

Her gaze shifted back to Frost. He was standing once more, though obviously weary. His face was twisted in pain as he pinched at the bridge of his nose, and then he reached down, too slowly, fumbling for his sword.

The vampire stepped between her and Frost then as it withdrew its own blade, surely pressed against her lover's throat. "Don't," the creature spoke, and even she felt the urge stop what little she was doing as the command reverberated through the room.

Taeth didn't have the room to draw her own sword. Not without endangering Frost. But the vampire was speaking again, and she listened, clinging to each word, desperate to remember them.

"I've come to escort you to the Iron Queen. I am Arioch. You have tarried overlong here in the lands of the Horse Lords. Your absence has been noted."

Then, as quickly as before, everything changed. The vampire vanished back into the shadows, and atmosphere of the room lightened, until Taeth's gaze met Frost's again.

There was a long quiet moment where she just watched him, and her hand finally released the table's edge. A knot shaped itself in her throat, and she found she couldn't find any words to say. The only ones that echoed through her thoughts were He's leaving. He's leaving before we even get the chance to see what there might be between us and all the time we might have had here was stolen from us.

Her eyes began to sting, and she blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. She did not want to lose what might be the last sight of him for... a long time. She refused to consider that it might be the last time. It was more than she could bear at that moment.

"I had hoped," he spoke at last, and it was his voice that finally caused the tears to spill down her face, "that we would have had more time."

Then he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. Strength surged through her then, and she pushed herself up on her toes to meet his kiss, her own arms twining around his neck, holding him as close as she could for whatever time she had.

This kiss was different from all the others they'd shared. Deep, slow, and while there was still heat, it was tempered rather than blazing. She tried to pour everything she felt for him into that kiss--the passion he'd woken in her, her regret at how little time they'd actually managed to share... her affection, which had overtaken her with such intensity so quickly but was still so new she didn't dare to call it anything more than fondness.

He ended the kiss all too soon, pulling back, his face already a mask, hiding whatever he felt from her scrutiny. "I must away. As you heard, I have tarried here in this place for far too long. Goodbye, Taethowen."

Frost broke away from her embrace then, and was out the door before she could respond. Despite the summer heat seeping through the walls, a coldness began to creep through her limbs, and with a gasping sob, she sank to the floor. Clutching her knees to her chest, she wept.

~~~

Taeth was unsure of how much time had passed when her tears finally ran dry, and a quiet numbness began to curl its way around her. When she pushed herself back to standing, she realized that it wasn't just an emotional numbness, but that her feet and legs were numb as well, and she leaned heavily against the table.

As she waited for sensation to return to her lower half, Taeth's gaze wandered around the room. At the far end of the table, closest to the door, she caught site of a familiar-looking coin purse, and she gave a weak snort. "Of course he left it," she whispered. "He was probably offended when the King gave it to him."

She tested her legs then, wincing as pins and needles crawled from the soles of her feet up into her thighs with each step. But she made it across the room, pausing to remove the sword and scabbard belted around her hips and to unpin the military sash draped across her shoulder, letting the sash and Marshal insignia fall the floor.

Taeth retrieved her journal, and quill and ink, from her private study and returned to the table in the kitchen, pulling open the window drapes on her way, desperate to banish the shadows for just a little while. The sun was still high in the sky. It hadn't even been midday yet, though it was not far off, when they'd left Meduseld, and she guessed now that it couldn't be more than an hour past it, if even that long.

Before she sat, though, Taeth retrieved a cup of water, an apple, and a hardboiled egg from the larder. She didn't want to eat--her appetite was long gone--but she needed to do so anyway.

After a few moments staring at the journal, she opened it, and began to write.

~~~

Several hours later, just as the sun is dipping low on the horizon, Taeth no longer sat at the table. She had put her journal, and the coin purse from the King, safely away, changed into a loose linen skirt and blouse, combed out her hair, and washed her face. She'd just finished eating a quick supper of fried potatoes and eggs--though it had seemed mostly tasteless--when a knock sounded at the door.

With a sigh, she stood, pausing just a moment to pick up the Marshal's sash, sword, scabbard, and belt from where she'd dropped them earlier, and hung them all on the hook by the door.

There was another quite rap-rap-rap, and Taeth opened the door, and there... stood her cousin.

"Eldreda!" Taeth smiled, hoping that it didn't seem forced. "Please, come in. Do you have many bags? Or did you bring a trunk?"

"My trunk will arrive tomorrow," Eldreda answered with a warm smile, and for a brief moment Taeth felt like she was not a shattered, broken form of herself. But the moment was too brief.

"Have you eaten supper?" Taeth asked, quickly turning away before her cheerful façade cracked, gesturing for Eldreda to come inside.

"I did," Eldreda answered, setting her bag down by the door. "I knew I would be arriving late, and didn't want to burden you with adding a second plate for supper at the last minute.

"Taeth..." the way Eldreda spoke her name was hesitant, worried. "Did you truly not receive the letter about your family?"

Taeth turned back then, and dread beginning to knot in her stomach at the look in Eldreda's eyes.

"I didn't," she whispered. "I truly didn't."

"Taeth... we should sit down and talk."

~~~

"I'll be leaving in the morning," Taeth whispered, quite some time later, face tear-streaked once more. "To check on the new steward at the estate. I've a few weeks of leave that the King granted me today."

She sat on the floor, leaning back against Eldreda's legs, her cousin's fingers gently combing through her hair and brushing soothingly over her brow. Her head was pounding.

"Must you go so soon?" Eldreda spoke in quiet tones.

"I should," Taeth answered, her voice hollow, flat, and a bit hoarse from the anguished cries that had escaped her earlier. To learn of her family, on the heels of her lover being torn away from her side... her heart had never shattered in quite this way before. "I'll need to report to the Hornburg on my return, and I shouldn't tarry any longer."

They both fell silent for a while, then. Taeth watched the flickering lamplight play against the walls, eyes inevitably drawn back to the darkest corner, where the day's nightmares had started despite the midday sun. She shivered.

"Taeth..."

"I'm fine, Eldreda," she whispered, then remembered one more question she needed to ask. "Where... where are they buried?"

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Lailyn’s house/vicinity with Æric
She was so wrapped up in her task, tying the handkerchief into a knot to make it easy to carry, that she barely heard his footsteps approach. Whatever he mumbled, she did not hear. When he spoke suddenly from somewhere beside her, she started slightly. After she finished tying the knot, her eyes stared down at the neat little package of honeycakes. She wished she could fix everything so easily. What kind of Rohir was she, afraid to even touch a weapon again?

Her thoughts were interrupted when he invited her to lunch and she looked up to see him mercifully donning his shirt again. “I already ate a little myself…” she said, giving herself time to consider. Hadn’t she promised herself she wouldn’t say no again? “But I’m not sure I’d call it a proper lunch,” she admitted. “I guess a break isn’t a bad idea.” Not to mention getting out of the house was a very welcome thought if it would help her forget what was looming there out of sight.

Since he was waiting and she had no wish to go back and get another cloth to wrap food in, she grabbed a bushel of grapes and a wedge of cheese from the table. “I know you said there's enough, but just let me bring something,” she implored him before stepping outside and following along with him toward the stream. If it was unusual to eat lunch with a hired carpenter, she didn’t care, but she wasn’t going to be rude and eat too much.

She briefly wondered who Caddrick’s mother was, thinking she’d heard the name before but was unable to recall when. It seemed she no longer had the heart or mind of a warrior, unable to remember such details. Gone were the days when she could memorise troop numbers, positions and other important details like identifying marks on leaders while out scouting.

The thought only unsettled her more and she was unusually quiet while she ambled along beside him. The sun and the short walk lightened her mood a little and she felt some of her edginess ebb away by the time they reached the stream. The lazy water glistened beneath the sun and a breeze stirred the branches of nearby willows. Houses dotted the landscape on the other side of the stream.

“I think I see what Edda liked so much about this...I’ve been so busy since I moved, I haven’t taken any time just to appreciate this place.” A thin smile appeared on her face but didn’t quite reach the corners of her eyes. “I could almost forget I’m in the city here. I like living in Edoras, but part of me will always love the countryside…” Settling down on the bank of the stream, she began to unwrap the cheese but paused to glance at him. “Where did you say you moved from?”

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w/ Sigrid
Éo followed, slightly surprised as she tugged on his hand. But he was smiling as she dashed off and he eagerly swung up next to her on the branch. The light was gently dappled through the green leaves, playing over her smiling face. The expression made his own smile widen, happy that she was happy. “You're not going to race me to the top and beat me with a stick?” he asked teasingly. Slowly, watching her face, he gently brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. He liked the feel of it, so very soft. “A few branches higher was a small hollow where I used to hide my treasures, bits of things that I suppose most boys find useful. An old knife blade, a bit of my favorite soap that mother made once. It wasn’t manly to smell of lilacs, or so the village boys said, but it was the only time my mother had made it and I loved the smell of spring.” He grinned a bit, deciding not to mention the fight that had ensued to prove his manhood despite the flower scent.

“I think I secreted my first bottle of whiskey up there as well, woke up to my father dumping well water on me the next morning not far from where we are sitting. He made me work all day, never said a word about me taking the whiskey. He just said that if I was going to act like an idiotic man, then I needed to work like one to see the consequences. It wasn’t long after that I ran away.” Éo peered up into the tree.

After a few moments he sighed, then grinned shyly at Sigrid. “You know, Sigrid, I’ve never courted anyone before. I never wanted to before, I always thought I’d have time to do it when I was older. And now…” he took her hand again, “and now there is you and I don’t really know what to do. I’d like to kiss you, but I’ve never done that either and … well…” he trailed off, feeling rather inept.

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Æric with Lailyn

As soon as she said she had already eaten, his heart fell. Though he had barely any time to process why he felt that way when she changed her mind and agreed to join him. Without realising it a smile had crawled to his face and the wrinkles around his blue eye were testament to the fact that he did occasionally allow himeself to. He had to stifle the chuckle as she grabbed some food to bring, feeling the need to share just like he did, though he remained quiet his smile broadened even more as he stepped aside for her and followed her out of the door. Making sure it was closed behind them, he followed after her, his long strides quickly catching up with the short headstart she had and he easily fell into the same pace as her as they made their way over to the stream.

The short walk there was slightly odd, he could sense there was something on Lailyn's mind though he respectfully remained quiet and left her to her thoughts. As they reached the stream he took in the beauty of it, breathing in deeply as he nodded in agreement to her statement. He caught the smile, one that did not quite make it to her pretty eyes and for a moment his brows furrowed as his heart twinged with sympathy and a small amount of guilt. Was she regretting having come along?

"Hm?" Lost in his own thoughts he did not immediately catch what she had said, having to think back for a moment. "Oh.. we lived in a small village.." Setting down the basket of food, he lowered himself to the ground as well. "It's called Coinmheadh, in the Eastfold?" He looked to see if it rang a bell, though he doubted it as it was quite a small village.

Opening the basket, he brought out a fresh baked loaf of bread, four small pies and some cheese, laying it all out on the cloth it had been wrapped in. Nodding towards the food to let her know to help herself, he grabbed one of the pies and took a bite, unwittingly letting out a sigh of pleasure at the taste. His eyebrows rose as he looked down at the pie with appreciation, doubting he had ever had one this good before. But then he reminded himself how long it had been since he had had food made by anyone other than himself and that he was not a good cook in any sense of the word.

Finishing the bite he had taken, he looked over at Lailyn, blurting the question out before he even had a chance to think of whether it was an appropriate one to ask her or if it was the cause of her mood. "What brought you back then?" Regretting the question as soon as it was asked he quickly added "if you don't want to say, that is fine.." before stuffing another bite of the pie in his mouth as he looked back at the stream.

***

With Éolath

Her chuckle at his question faded as his hand moved a lock of her hair away. Her face tingled oddly where he had touched her, though not unpleasantly and she found she wanted him to do that again. Her own hand rose to touch his, but he had already pulled it away, his eyes moving from her as they climbed higher into the branches as he shared his childhood memories with her. Her eyes briefly flicked up in the direction he was looking, but they immediately returned to his face where they stayed as he spoke. She was only paying half attention to what he was saying, her mind instead focusing on the way the wind rustled his curly hair, the glint he got in his eyes when thought of his treasures and the tinge of sadness as he shared with her how he had been caught drinking.

She wasn't even aware that she was staring as he turned to her and smiled, her heart skipping several beats as he gave her that shy smile of his, her stomach doing a violent somersault that took her breath away. Mouth slightly open, her eyes darted back and forth between his to decifer what he was trying to tell her, wincing as her heart tightened almost painfully. However when he finally got around to what he was trying to say, she let out the breath she didn't even know she was holding and let out a small relieved laugh. For an unbearable moment she had thought that he was going to tell her that he had made a mistake, that he did not want to court her afterall. Shaking her head at her own foolishness and for having doubted him, she looked up a him and smiled.

"Well me either.." she offered on all the same accounts as him, though she only had to look into his eyes for her heart to flutter painfully, telling her that he was someone she wanted to be with. Lifting both hands to his face, her thumbs caressed him softly before she pulled him in for a kiss, this one allowing for more time than the first they had share, allowing for their inexperience and awkwardness.

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On a hill below Edoras by the Snowbourn River:

Cal' smiled his thanks at Mr Bells (@Wamba_the_Fool) and had a quick look over at his friends, Beda and Sheemie.

"How does that sound Beda? Will you go with Sheemie, while we search for your brothers and sisters? We are on horseback so you will slow us up if you come with. Also Leo needs food and a look at by a healer."

Cal' climbed on Nuthatch and rode up next to Sighard and Mr Bells.

"Bambu, will you come with and help us? We aren't scouts, I'm sure you can read tracks, and also you can show us where you found the baby..."
man of gondor < Image > heart of rohan

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Sorry, @Aodh Hammerhelm , @Eléowyn , @Taethowen
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Sighard
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Fords at the Snowbourn, Outside Edoras


Sighard's eyes narrowed as yet another person (Sheemie) showed up and began to issue ridiculous demands and questions. Did those in Edoras--and from outside the Mark--truly think that the whole country was small enough that everyone knew each other?

He breathed a sigh of relief, though, as Bambu willingly handed the child over to the girl (Beda), but the relief did not last long when the girl turned and answered his question. "Five. There are five of them. They should have been all together. Léo here is the youngest. There are two other boys and two girls. They disappeared last night, during the fire."

Sighard quickly schooled his face into a neutral mask. He'd never had family to lose, himself, but knew the blow could be devastating to those with family. One boy dead, he tallied silently. That means another boy and two girls yet are missing...

The girl continued to plead with him and the other men, casting some suspicion on Bambu as well, but Sighard was withholding judgement so far. There had been too many strange coincidences with all present to automatically trust anyone, though at least the babe--not that he knew much about them--had settled in the girl's arms right away.

The other young man (Calimir) spoke up and introduced himself then, and Sighard couldn't quite hide his skepticism this time as Calimir attempted to vouch for Bambu, listing off random names once more as if every Bema-damned person in the Mark knew each other. There wasn't time to call people back and forth and vouch for everyone present. The more time that was spent rambling and arguing, the less time they had to find the rest of the children before further tragedy struck.

The first gentleman (Wamba) spoke up then, offering his meager skills, and Sighard nodded gratefully, but before he could respond, Calimir interjected again.

"How does that sound, Beda?" (so that must be the girl's name) "Will you go with Sheemie, while we search for your brothers and sisters? We are on horseback so you will slow us up if you come with. Also Léo needs food and a look at by a healer.

"Bambu, will you come with and help us? We aren't scouts, I'm sure you can read tracks, and also you can show us where you found the baby..."

"No," Sighard spoke up. "Sheemie should come with us, and you should take Beda and her brother back to the city, Calimir. If we're scouting, we'll have to move slower anyway, and it seems that Sheemie knows the children?" --with this statement, he looked over at Sheemie and Beda to confirm this-- "And when we find them, it would help to have a familiar face with us. It would take quite a while for Beda and Sheemie to return to Edoras on foot. As for where the infant was discovered, I already know. It's about a quarter mile downstream from here, near a tree.

"Bambu, you should come with us," Sighard stated. "Perhaps there is opportunity yet to fulfill that good deed you mentioned."


@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool

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Ford of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPC ~ Sheemie Rheus & Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

One of the Riders (Sighard), not the one with the silver bells in his hair (Wamba) suddenly took command of the situation on the hill. Sheemie’s face, hidden in the shade of his gardening hat, scowled.

He didn’t like the way this fellow was speaking to Cal’, but he supposed he made sense. Cal’ didn’t know what the bairns looked like! His friend from Gondor had never even see’d them before, but Sheemie had. They would have growed a bit since he stayed with them, in their little cottage in the fall, but he would know them if he saw them.

Still, he was reluctant to leave Beda, and pretty scared about having to see a dead bairn. Who was it he wondered, which one of the chillens? How would he tell his sweoster the bad news when he got back?

“Sheemie will come with you,” he said to the Rider-feller. “And Arthur’s friend, Bambu. You will come, woncha, Wild-feller? We really needs you to help find those missing bairns!”


Bambu considered Sheemie’s question for what seemed like a very long while. He turned and looked west, arms held high over his head, and closed his eyes. At last he stepped towards Beda and knelt by her side.

“I go with Pale-Riders, Rustman-daughter. You take ngani, your brother, and keep safe. Bambu try find others, he ask favour. Your father not here, Bambu need help. Chief’s son sick, bad-bad. Green snot from nose and mouth. Tribe make strong songs and dances. Him no better. You get Forgoil muti for Bambu? You bring medicine to this place when sun go and come back again?”


--

A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPC ~ Symond Beorma

Wonder of wonders, the boy had set a fire. The hut was warm, even if the door had been left open. There was a pot of something bubbling on the battered stove, a bowl of chopped fruit and a pitcher of milk sat atop the rickety table.

Symond frowned. What was the whelp's game? This wasn't like him, not like him at all.

But the promise of a hot meal drove this thought from the fisherman's tired head. He shucked off his sodden oiled-cape, it sloughed from his lean frame like a flayed eel skin, and kicked it across the hut floor. “Bran!” he called. There was no response, Symond crossed to the stove and served up his breakfast.

There was still no sign of his nephew when he’d done with his meal, and of that he was glad. The lad vexed him, always had, and he’d had enough vexation to last him for the day. Near drowning and lost equipment were only the half of it…The swarm of crows that had materialised, as he trudged home, had frightened him badly.

Why? He couldn't say exactly, they were just crows after all - shabby creatures with stubby beaks and harsh calls. But there’d been something about the way the birds had hovered and swooped over him, something in their bright eyes and raucous voices, that had set him to thinking of his dead sister, and the night she'd died.

He needed a drink, something harsh and strong to settle his nerves. There was work to be done - traps to make, nets to repair – that required patience and a steady hand.

--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

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Lailyn’s house/vicinity with Æric
Coinmheadh in the Eastfold...she couldn’t even pretend to have any idea where it was, so she shook her head in response to his question. The only time she’d spent in the Eastfold was travelling through it or in battle. She laid the cheese and grapes down beside the food he unpacked and though he welcomed her to it, she only ate a few grapes for now.

"What brought you back then?" he asked and she felt something in her chest squeeze tight. Her face fell into a frown and she knew a shadow passed over her expression that she could not hide. This was the one question she did not want to be asked, did not want to explain. When she returned to her aunt’s house with no warning, she gave a heavily abbreviated version of the story, leaving out the unsavory details and therefore most of the truth.

He kindly offered her a way out from answering and while she desperately wanted to grasp the chance to talk about anything else, she knew someone else might ask eventually. So far, she’d been lucky. There hadn’t been time to catch up with old friends and she hadn’t been forced to lie or avoid the topic yet, only mentioned it briefly to Shadowfox.

Twisting her hands in her lap, she willed herself not to look at her palm and the fresh scar that crossed it, but her gaze turned down anyway. She remained silent for a few moments and tried to gather her thoughts. “I’ve been gone...for a while. Too long, I think. I travelled all the way north. To Dale and Lake-town…” She paused and let out a shallow sigh. How to explain without outright lying or casually admitting she unwittingly had an affair and a rightfully vengeful wife threatened and robbed her? “I made a mistake that I can’t take back,” she finally said in a soft voice, feeling her stomach twisting in knots. “So, I left...” she mumbled. “I guess I came home to start again.”

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Æric with Lailyn

Oh.. shoot. He could immediately feel the atmosphere change and though he was looking at the stream, he could see enough of her out of the corner of his eye to see that this was not the question he should have asked. He cursed himself vehemently, angry with himself that he did not have more sense to know that this was not a question to ask. He should never have invited her along, what was he even doing!?

Swallowing the bite of pie he had taken before she answered with difficulty, he let out a small cough as it got stuck, reaching out for his waterskin. He took a quick swig and coughed again before he set it aside, his appetite now completely gone along with the memory of the delicious pie. Awkwardly he rubbed his scars as he tended to do when he did not know what to say and do, struggling to think of something he could say as while he felt awful for having asked the question, he also felt sympathy for her.

"Sorry.. I shouldn't have asked, that was way too forward of me. I did not mean to pry.." He risked a quick look at her, his face crestfallen at having caused her distress. Not wanting to eat anymore and sure she was not wanting anything either, he looked back at the stream, his mind going through tons of options and things to say, all of them discarded immediately. Feeling that the silence had gone on too long, he suddenly blurted out "I came here to start over too.."

He had no idea why he said that, but he hoped it would take her mind off of her own troubles. "We all make mistakes, some that are harder to live with than others. But the good thing is, one can always start again and hopefully this time around know not to make that mistake again." Giving her another look, his expression offered an apology as well as understanding of difficult life changing mistakes.

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Ford of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPC Beda

When she had seen her baby brother being held aloft by the Wild Man, Beda had been emboldened by concern for his safety. Now, with Léo safely in her arms, and surrounded by all of these men, she felt like a child again.

She was confused with all of them talking, and sometimes disagreeing. But this much she understood: Sheemie seemed to trust the man called Bambu; Bambu still thought she was the daughter of Rust-man; she was to bring some sort of medicine back the next day; and Léo did need to be taken back to the city to be checked over. She wanted to help in the search for the others, but she could not be in two places at once.

Reluctantly, she turned to Calimir and asked, “Will you take us back? The infirmary is right outside the gate; we should stop there to see the hæland. Could I ride in front of you? I do not feel safe trying to hang on at your back with Léo in my arms.”

Holding Léo out, she asked Sheemie, “Can you hold him while I mount?” Once she was settled, she took the babe back and snuggled him closely and waited for Cal.

It was only then the thought struck her: How did Sighard know where Léo had been found? The question would have to wait. Léo was wailing again, and it was apparent he needed a change of clothes.


@Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

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On a hill below Edoras by the Snowbourn River:

Cal' wasn't sure he liked the Rider's (Sighard) plan, but he'd had enough of the chatter going on. He would take Beda to the infirmary and leave Sheemie and the Wildman (Bambu) to help search for the children.

"I will see you when I see you, Sheemie," the lad from Gondor said as Beda climbed on Nuthatch's back. When Leo was safe in his sister's arms, Cal' put an arm around the girl's waist. "Bambu! Help these men and I will try to find Rustbucket and medicine... Beda, Sheemie and me will not forget your service!

Are you ready, Beda? I'll ride slowly, Nutters is a gentle soul and he'll go carefully knowing there's a baby on his back. Which way is it? West or east of the gates?"

The lad from Gondor rode Nuthatch slowly of the hill and back across the burned fields. He saw some white tents and followed Beda's pointing finger. Soon they came to a fence and the gate of the infirmary.

>>>>>> @Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool

@Eléowyn OOC > Do we carry on things in the infirmary page?
man of gondor < Image > heart of rohan

High Lord of Imladris
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Anhyrne Family Lands, Eastfold, Riddermark
The Stewards House


Trewyn sighed as she finished cleaning up the stewards house that they had moved into recently, she looked about their new home with a small amount of pride. It was beginning to feel more like home finally now that it was clean and their family heirlooms were up and the entire estate was slowly starting to come back together. There was bread baking and the house, was beginning to feel like home. Perhaps this would be well for her and her daughters the farm had held so many memories of her husband and their father. She was happy that her son was doing so well, and that he could as it were make sure she and his sisters had a roof over their heads and plenty to do. She disliked being over idle, she set aside her broom beside the door and she headed out to tend to the livestock and the garden that would help them make it through the winter. They had brought most of their hens with them as well as a few roosters and a few pigs once Ceadda had repaired the sty well enough to keep the animals contained from their own farm which they has sold, short of the live stock that they felt they would need to make it through the winter comfortably and still have animals left for spring.

As she stepped outside her eyes winced shut at how fantastically bright it was compared to the inside of the house and she put her hand over her brow to give them some shade as she took in what was going about, Sigerun and Estrun looked like they were finishing their portion of the chores feeding the animals and collecting and washing the eggs by the basket just outside the door, she was about to bend to pick it up and bring it into the kitchen when there was a loud sort of growly clucked scream from a very unhappy chicken as it sprinted by followed closely by one of her daughters.

"Estrun stop chasing the chickens or they will peck you or the roosters will get you." She scolded shaking her head and picking up the basket of eggs. The chickens were use to the girls for the most part but sometimes the birds would just have enough and she did not want to be mending dresses or flesh if their fighting talons caught purchase. The little golden hair girl laughed and did stop and came running to her mother for a hug landing hard against her legs bringing a smile to the older womans face, making the wrinkles that were just hinting at the corners of her eyes and lips seem much deeper. While she had not smiled often in these last few years first with her husband being ill and then passing away, much of her life had been spent smiling. The when she had not been smiling she'd been chasing children around; which to her accounting, had kept her young, there were only a few grey hairs to be seen on her head and with her fair hair they were hard to spot pulled back in a loose braid that trailed well down her back.

"Have you and your sister weeded and watered the garden yet?" She asked softly looking down warmly at the beaming face looking up at her.

"No mama."

"Run and do that now before it gets too warm, I will get the chicken coop and the pig sty cleaned, and the we shall have to clean up properly as Lady Taethowen should be arriving later today, we do want to not be covered in dirt and muck for that yes?" She said and off the twin ran off after giving her a nod to tell her sister their last chore for the day. They were making sure that the livestock areas were nice and clean the house already cleaned of dust and dirt and cobwebs, though not back to it's full former glory. There was plenty more work to be done and Ceadda likely was tending the family's horses that they had brought for transportation and to help work the garden that had not been turned or worked in so long. Trewyn knew there was little food in the Anhyrne House, so she had made extra bread and had set aside some eggs to gift to the Lady on her arrival a meagre but heartfelt gift from the small family.

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Image
Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
Image

Fords at the Snowbourn, Outside Edoras


Sheemie and Bambu both agreed to go with them, and Sighard was relieved when Beda seemed too as well, since she turned to ask Calimir to take her and her baby brother back to Edoras. Once they'd departed, Sighard dismounted his horse, then turned back to the others.

"Introductions are probably in order," he said. "I'm Sighard, a Dryhtguma of the Eastmark. I was on my way to Edoras from the Aldburg to collect the most recent news when I heard an infant crying in the fields. My investigation led me downriver, where I found evidence of the baby, but no child--apparently because you" --Sighard nodded toward Bambu-- "had already retrieved it. But further down river, I found a boy who was already deceased.

"If, as Miss Beda said, her siblings disappeared from Edoras during the fires last night--even I saw those from where I camped--then it's possible the rain washed away some signs of them, but we should probably start tracking from here. It's likely that they stuck close to the river. It seems we are looking for another boy and two more girls, is that right, Mr. Sheemie? Is there anything you can tell us about them?

"And I have not gotten your name yet, sir," Sighard spoke to the first man he'd encountered out here (Wamba). "You said you have at least some minor skill with tracking. I at least am grateful for your aid. Would you and Bambu take the lead?"


@Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool

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Lailyn’s house/vicinity with Æric
As the silence stretched and she heard him cough, she immediately regretted her candor. He was just here to work, to support his family, to fix her house and here she was telling him things she’d barely mentioned to anyone else. He invited her for a pleasant lunch and she was sure she’d just ruined it. She was about to apologise to him when he said the words first.

At his sudden confession he was starting fresh, too, she looked up at him and glimpsed some sorrow in his expression. Whatever it was that caused him to leave home, to understand the feeling of wanting to start over, her heart twinged in sympathy. And it was her fault he'd been reminded.

“You’re right. I...I hope I don’t,” she agreed in a quiet voice. The irony of his words struck her and her gaze faltered. She couldn’t look at him while claiming not to repeat her mistake. Not with the way she seemed to feel as he sat beside her radiating warmth and kindness to someone who didn’t deserve it. It was clear something troubled him, too, and if there was one way to pull her out of her own troubles, it was reaching out to someone else.

“I’m sorry...for whatever happened that led you here.” Without giving it a thought, she reached out and laid a comforting hand on his arm. “I don’t know if you have friends or family in the city, but- well, if you ever want to talk about it, I would be happy to listen...And if you want to talk about something more pleasant, or anything really, that’s fine, too…” She paused, suddenly feeling hesitant. “Or if not, I'll understand seeing as I'm sure I've ruined your lunch.” He probably never wanted to talk to her again after this but she offered him a faint smile anyway. “Either way, I just hope you find a way to move on, too.” Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him, hoping she hadn't been too forward with her words. Regardless of how she felt, she would have offered the same to anyone else.

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Ford of the Snowbourn, near Edoras: NPC ~ Sheemie Rheus & Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

Sheemie watched Cal', baby Léo and his Beda-sweoster ride off to the city. His heart was heavy at their going, and troubled by the task that lay ahead. He squared his broad shoulders, and marched over to the Riders (Sighard & Wamba).

“Sheemie will walk at the back of our column,” he said. “He’s got good eyes, but clumsy feet. He don’t want to tramp on anything important, lawks, no!”


Bambu hesitated before following Sheemie. His bow and dirk were still hidden in the hawthorn. Should he fetch them out? What would the Strawheads, with their bright swords, make of an armed Wildman? He would collect his weapons later, when the tracking was done and he came here to meet Rustman’s daughter.

The Wildman shambled across the hill top and took up his place beside the trio of searchers.

“You keep eye on ground as we go, we not want miss signs,” he said to Sheemie, then to the Forgoil with the charms tied in his hair (Wamba). “What you name, sangoma? You follow Bambu - look good left and right as we go!”

The Dunlending strode down the hill. He hunkered for a brief time on the near shore then, taking up the trail he’d walked earlier, began jogging upriver.


___

A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPC ~ Symond Beorma

Symond took a pull from the demijohn at his feet; the flagon contained the last of the poteen stilled in early spring, and was now near empty. But he deserved a drink, he deemed. He’d been hard at work all morning, with no help from his nephew, and his brain and fingers were numbed with cold.

A trip to Edoras was called for - an excursion to obtain supplies. But the town was five long leagues away and Bran, the feckless cull, had still not appeared.

The supply run would have to wait till the morning. There was no way, even for liquor, he was trudging the weary miles to town... Not with that pack of crows lurking along the way!

The brat would do it on the morrow, first thing. And if he said otherwise, he’d be up for a thrashing.

___

The Snowbourn,four leagues downriver of Edoras: NPC ~ Bran Wænnfót

Symond’s nephew had not been idle while his uncle worked. After checking on the sleeping child (Lida), and making sure the woodshed was secured against intrusion, Bran had made his way down to the darkling wood.

He backtracked along the route he’d walked with the girl, brushing aside any trace of their footfalls with his soft leather shoes. When he reached the shore of the Snowbourn, he was relieved to see the girl’s footprints had been erased by the flow of the river.

He crossed a row of stepping stones to the far bank, and moved on down river. In time he spotted a fallen tree lying in the river. Hoof marks pocked the wet soil above the bank.

Bran frowned, and gazed back in the direction of the ford and the distant city of Edoras. He did not discern any sign of movement along the valley, but that was sure to change. If a child was missing people would come to find her…

And he was not prepared to give her up – not yet!

He waded carefully into the water, and moved east for several miles. A second tumbled tree barred his way; he furled a piece of Lida’s nightdress around one of its branches, and swam under the trunk.

Further along the river's course he came upon a set of rapids, debris from the recent flood was snagged amidst the rocks. He tossed the rest of the nightdress into a tangle of splintered foliage and wedged the tress of hair he’d taken from the sleeping child between two stones.

The river current was strong, but the boy, unlike his uncle, was a decent swimmer. Bran struck out for the north shore and swam upriver for a mile or so. He took hold of the roots of a willow and dragged himself from the water.

Let's see you find her now!

Bran smiled his happy smile, the one he favoured while preparing samples for his collection, and began to make his way home.


--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool
Last edited by Aodh Hammerhelm on Sun Sep 27, 2020 7:13 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Æric with Lailyn

It was such a simple gesture, however when Lailyn put her hand on his arm he felt a shock go through his body. Unbidden it brought up thoughts of his wife, how devoted he had been to her, how much he had adored her and her confident ways. But it was quickly followed by a soul crushing sadness, betrayal and outright anger. Unknowingly his fists had clenched tightly in his lap, his gaze hardening as he stared out at the beautiful stream, the serenity of the place doing little to calm his fury. It took all of his strenght to draw in a ragged breath, forcing the anger out as he let the breath go. It had been over four years and still he felt as if it had just happened. Should he ever come across the man he was not sure he would be able to hold the fury back and would likely get hurt trying to gain some sense of retribution to pay for all the hurt the man had caused. That it was likely more his wife's fault was something he would still not entertain, despite feeling angry with her as well.

Looking down at his hands, images of the last day with her flashed before his eyes. Of how she had hurriedly packed her things while he had followed her around with the babe in his arms, pleading for her to stay, assuring her that he could forgive her for what she had done with the man from Umbar. What was the man's name again? Ice? Snow? He shook his head slightly, as it did not matter. They were both gone long ago. Slowly he rubbed his scars as he thought of the following years where he had waited for her to return, though when he recently found out she was carrying the man's child he knew it was over for good, not knowing the news was years old. Coming to that realisation had both been devastating and a huge relief, though he came to the conclusion that he could not live in that house a minute longer, shutting it down and taking his meagre savings and taking the trek to Edoras to seek out a new life for him and his little girl.

A smile crawled slowly to his lips at the thought of Edda, knowing she was the real reason that he had not fallen into the pit of despair. She had forced him to continue, to keep going and to enjoy the small things in life again. Though his heart hurt and he still felt betrayal and anger towards his wife and the man, the feelings had started to lessen a bit with each day that passed and it was only when the topic came up that he even thought of them now. It was a huge relief as it had filled his every thought, all day every day for a long time after she had left.

With a small sigh, his eyes moved from his hands to the stream again, once more able to appreciate the simple beauty of it and gave a small nod. "My wife left me four years ago, when Edda was just a babe, to be with another man. She has now started a family with him." His voice was tinged with sadness and embarassment as it felt embarassing to have been dumped for someone else, like he was not good enough or had not been a good enough husband to her.

"As soon as I had heard she was with child, I left my home and came here. In hopes to start fresh.." He shook his head slightly, wondering why he was saying all of this as he had only just met Lailyn, but he found he could not stop now that he had started. "Edda doesn't know and I still haven't made up my mind if I ever will tell her, though I might have to think of what to say soon as just saying her mother is "away" is not going to be enough for her for much longer, especially not now when she can see other children have mothers and she doesn't."

He offered Lailyn a quick glance, a sad smile on his lips, the hurt shining in his eyes. "She doesn't deserve the feeling of not being wanted by her mother, you know?" The question was rhetorical, turning his gaze back to the stream. "I did think to tell her that Kara was dead.. but I guess I always hoped that she would one day come back." He nervously wrung his hands as he winced at the thought of Kara returning now. "Now my fear is that she will return.."

His face turned hard, his body almost steeling itself against the thought of losing Edda to Kara should she come back and demand her daughter back. No.. he would never let that happen.

"Sorry.." he murmured, giving a slight cough to clear his shaky voice. "I guess this lunch was more than either of us bargained for.." he said with a self-conscious chuckle.

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Wamba the Fool

"I'm a fool - or THE Fool, depending - hight Wamba, son of Unwita," he responded to the queries, with a shake of his bells and a flourish of his cape, as if to show off the motley to its best effect.

"There's not many Riders go 'round clad like I am," he added for Sheemie's benefit. He didn't think the "Don't call me a soljer" subtext got through, but maybe the purple jerkin, red-and-yellow-legged breeks, and red cape would. Eh... More important things needed doing.

He agreeably dismounted and followed along behind Bambu, sweeping his gaze left and right as he went. But it was a beautiful day, and Fools being what they are, he found himself humming, then singing a snatch of a scrap of a stanza:

"Sheemie, Bambu, Sigherd, Wamba,
See me, can't you? We'd heard sommat
Down by the banks of the-


"What does sangoma mean, friend Bambu?" the Fool suddenly asked. (His trusting ass brayed derisively, and was just as derisively ignored by his master.)

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Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold
north of the Firien Wood, just west of the Mering Stream
(continuation from here)

It was late afternoon of the eighth day when Taethowen finally rode Gefyrst onto the Anhyrne lands. She'd spent one more night in Anorien, then stopped briefly at the Cavalry outpost just inside the border around midday, to let them know she'd returned safely, before heading north to her family lands.

The last time she'd been here, she made the journey afoot. It went much quicker on horseback, and also more smoothly. The mare's footing was more sure than her own, especially through the Firien Wood. The trail that had once existed here was overgrown now, and while the Firien wasn't completely on her land, the family had always maintained the trail. She would need to speak with Ceadda about that.

"You were born here, Gefyrst," Taeth began to talk to the mare, because silence afforded too much chance for her thoughts to wander back to too many unpleasant topics. "I don't know how long you stayed here on these lands after that, but perhaps you will find some familiarity here."

They broke out of the trees then, and after cresting a hill top, Taeth paused to survey the estate. Golden sunlight glinted off the Mering Stream far to the east where it caught the waning light of the day. The land here was not terribly hilly, but there were just enough of them to partially obscure the Fenmarch between the meadows and the Mering.

She could see the manor house in the distance, barely north and east of her, and she saw small figures running around between the steward's house and the stables. The distance was too great for any noise to carry, though. Then her eyes moved westward, though the boundary line of the land was invisible at this distance.

All of this will be yours one day, Taethowen, the memory of her father's voice whispered through her mind. Then, even as clueless as she was at the tender age of seven, it had brought her comfort and pride. Now, the thought felt more like a millstone tied to her neck. She had some sense of familial pride, and she didn't want to abandon this land and everything she'd loved before, but if she thought she'd known what she wanted when returned to the Mark, now she was discovering that her time outside the Mark had changed her in ways she had yet to fathom.

Perhaps she'd tried to put roots down here again too quickly. Especially in Edoras.

Gefyrst snorted beneath her, stamping an impatient hoof. "Sorry, girl," Taeth whispered. "You must be getting hungry, I'm sure. Let's go." Then, Taeth nudged Gefyrst into a gallop, and the distance to the manor sped quickly by.

Taeth heard excited shouts as she reined the mare in a short distance from the houses. She remembered that Ceadda said he had two young sisters, and she didn't want to risk trampling them if either should dart out when she didn't expect it. And speaking of the lad, she saw him emerge from the stable moments later, jogging up to greet her with a smile as she dismounted.

"Mistress Anhyrne!" he called. "Welcome home!"

Taeth barely suppressed a flinch. Home. But he couldn't know what all had transpired, and so she schooled her face into a more cheery expression, then turned to greet him. "Westu hal," she smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes despite her best efforts. "I see you've been hard at work."

And he had, truly. Repairs had been made--or were being made--to the livestock pens, and it seemed that he was getting the stables in order as well. Perfect.

"This is Gefyrst," Taeth gestured to the blue roan mare, then continued to speak as she removed the bags that held her personal belongings and the remaining foodstuffs. "Once I've acquired a proper Cavalry mount, she'll be a breeding mare here. I recently reacquired her. She's of Anhyrne stock, a line that my father started and I continued, until I left the join the Cavalry the first time many years ago. I trust you can properly put her up for the night?"

"Aye, mistress!" Ceadda nodded, and then led the mare away.

Taeth glanced at the steward's house, saw two small blond heads running about and squealing a bit, but turned away before she saw Ceadda's mother step out the door. Hefting her bags up, she approached the main manor house, and she was fine until she reached out to push the door open, and she was assailed with memories of the past.

Memories so vivid that she thought that maybe, just maybe, if she actually opened the door, she'd be greeted by her father's smiling face. Her mother's ever-pensive expression, though fondness had still been visible in her eyes before Taeth's father's death. The screeching laughter of her younger sister and brother as they made up excuses to get out of chores again--chores Taeth would inevitably have to pick up the slack on.

She didn't dare to open the door, knowing that none of that would be real.

Slowly, the bags she carried slipped out of her grip and fell to the ground. The quiet thud of them pulled her out of the memory, but not the emotion, and she stared at the closed door as if it might burn her, biting her lip as if doing so might keep the tears at bay. She was so tired of crying.

@Fuin Elda

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A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPC Lida

The man (Bran) had miscalculated when he administered the sleeping draught to Lida, not accounting properly for her youth and size. She had fallen asleep quickly and slept deeply, but not untroubled. Her life was too short and her experience too limited to provide much fodder for dreams, but she had always been a very imaginative and strong-willed child. The dreams that came to her in her drug-induced sleep were filled with people and places she did not know, and though there was a sense of danger, she herself did not fear.

There was a man in a doorway, cackling with laughter. And crows, always crows. They made her laugh in the dream, and once she even giggled aloud in her sleep. She rolled over, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and slept on.


@Aodh Hammerhelm

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Lailyn’s house/vicinity with Æric
Before he even began to speak, she felt the muscles in his arm tense, saw the hint of pain in his face and she wanted nothing more than to ease his worries. Whatever it was she had expected Æric to say, it was not a story that echoed her own. She sat in a sort of stunned silence for a moment as she tried to process it all. What were the chances only a few days after coming home, she would meet someone who was a victim of her own wrongdoing? Whatever they were, she felt sure she deserved this. Maybe it was some kind of cruel justice to glimpse the pain and wreckage she might have left behind.

While she listened, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts moved through her. Selfish gladness she hadn’t told him her story, certain he would hate her if he knew, disgust with herself for being just as awful as this other man and a new thread of worry...Did Davin and his wife have children? She wouldn’t have known if they did, having left without explanation. It didn’t matter why he’d done it; nothing he could say would justify his lies.

But beneath her own worries, her heart ached for Æric and Edda, for how much it must have hurt to watch his wife move on with someone else. Both of them deserved better, to be wanted. Not just Edda but Æric, too. She just didn’t understand how this woman could leave them. Maybe some people just couldn’t keep their promises.

“I’m so sorry…” she breathed. It was all she could think to say for a moment. Her words were heartfelt but tinged with some of her own remorse. “This other man who came along…he is to blame for this.” There was a hard edge to her voice even as she bowed her head in shame, feeling the weight of her regret. But this wasn’t about her so she took a deep breath and forced herself to look him in the eyes.

“But I can’t understand why she would leave you or her own child…" Her expression softened as she continued, hoping the truth might do something to assuage his pain, that she wouldn’t make him feel worse."I mean, anyone can see how much you love Edda. I’m sure you were as good a husband as you are a father and I think anyone would be a fool to throw that away.” The words spilled out with an intensity that surprised her. Whoever this Kara woman was, she was worse than a fool and Lailyn felt a stirring of anger toward her. To leave her husband, her own flesh and blood, what kind of person would do that?

“You should not have to lie to your daughter. I don’t know what I would do in your place and I don't know much about children but I think someday she deserves to know the truth. I'm sure you want to protect her from getting hurt and she’s too young to understand now..." She paused to shake her head. "I’m sure I'm not being very helpful,” she acknowledged, “but it seems like you’re doing fine on your own. It can't be easy but Edda is...well she’s just delightful and that must be because of you.” It wasn’t hard to give him an encouraging smile and her voice brightened just thinking of the little girl.

"Please don't apologise,” she insisted. “I said I would listen, didn't I? And anyway, its my fault. You invited me for lunch and I started all this...and here I am saying you should tell the truth when I can’t even do that myself." She let out a deep breath, releasing some of her frustration.

Despite his attempt at levity, he still sat with rigid shoulders, his tension palpable. He was obviously still troubled and she knew it would take more than a few words from a near-stranger to ease his mind.

"Look...if you want to go, I'll understand. You can come back to finish the house any time,” she offered though she didn’t want to end the conversation on a sour note. “But if you want to stay, I promise I’ll try to eat something. Maybe we can still salvage something good out of this day and maybe it’ll be a step in the right direction...for both of us.”

She gave him a questioning look, trying not to feel too hopeful he would stay even as part of her was nervous that he would. If she felt confused about her feelings before, she felt even more conflicted now as part of her wanted to get up and run away, to leave it behind, and part of her felt rooted to ground where she sat beside him. But she couldn't walk away this time. She remained sitting still right where she was.

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Æric with Lailyn

Should he just get up and go? She had offered him an easy way out, a way to leave and not have to think about the heartache he had carried for more than four years. Breathing in a deep breath, smelling the grass, the mud near the banks of the stream, even the pork pies next to him, he closed his eyes for a brief moment and looked up towards the sky, appreciating the feel of the sun warming his face. The seasons were changing, soon it would be too cold to sit by the stream, the rains and the winds would drive everyone inside where they would gather around their fireplaces, with their families. Sighing he opened his eyes, looking down at his hands. Rough and calloused from years and years of hard work, they had done everything from turning the soil to killing orcs, to wiping his baby's bottom.

No, at some point he had to stop running. He had run from their life, uprooted his daughter and dragged her across Rohan just to get away from the difficult memories and yet here he was, hurting just as much as he had been back at his own house. No, it was time to take a stand, to face his fears and his regrets and create a good life for him and Edda. She did not deserve to grow up with a father who would run every time things got too hard. He did not want to teach her that she needed to run from her mistakes. You had to own them, to face them and promise yourself to do better. How else could you truly live?

Reaching out, he placed his hand on her arm in turn and looked at her, a small smile on his lips. "No, let's finish our lunch. These pork pies are too good to let go to waste over something as silly as a broken heart and Caddricks mother would have my head if she knew that we had not eaten every last bite.." With that he chuckled softly, picking the cloth up with the pies and offering her one. "Please.. join me.."

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Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Trewyn finished up cleaning the animals bedding, she went to check on the girls they were well on their way to being finished their task. "Pull a few of those carrots so that they are thinner, they should be good to eat so bring them in when you are ready to wash up." She said to receive a sing song voices of her daughters agreeing to the task, good hard working girls she was proud of them. She headed in and began heating the water to wash up she had no doubt her daughters would need a proper bath with their playing, and pulled out clean dresses for them, knowing full well they'd be covered in mud from gardening, they were still not little ladies. And she was in no rush to try to turn them into such, children often needed to grow up far too fast.

She finished pouring water in their small bathing basin, the girls came in a handful of small carrots and small baby peas and beans. That she took and set in the kitchen, and chased both the girls to go bathe. She could hear them splashing a bit and quickly went to work on the vegetable turning them into a soup that they would be able to eat that night with the left overs from yesterdays supper scant but in a soup it would be plenty. The pot on to simmer away throughout the day she told her daughters dry off and go play outside, but to avoid getting too dirty. More giggles and laughter but shortly they came running out and it was her turn. She took much less time then they and quickly dried off and dressed not wanting to smell like a sty when she met the Lady of their new home. She glanced out the window as she put her hair back in it's lose braid and peaked out the window at her daughters, and she spotted a rider coming and headed down stairs grabbing the basket holding the families little gift of food for Lady Taethowyn. She grabbed a fresh apron and slipped it over to her head and tied it about her waist as she headed downstairs.

She slipped out the door just in time to see the young woman striding for the main house, Ceadda leading away a beautiful mare away to the stable, her parcel for the lady a small basket she slowed her walk wanting to let the woman a chance to at least get into her house. She glanced back at her daughters chasing each other about the house giggling and laughing. She turned back to follow Taethowyn and stopped her brow creasing with concern as the young woman stood before the door of her hall her hand held out as if to push the door but frozen. The older woman bit her lower lip and stayed in place waiting to see what Taethowyn would do. It wasn't until the bag she was carrying hit the ground beside her making her jump slightly and Trewyn shut her eyes, knowing that feeling, perhaps not exactly for her husband had passed away of illness and at first every time the door opened she was looking for him. When she didn't move even after Trewyn continued to her her foot steps were soft, but she did not try to hide her approach.

She cleared her throat softly as she was a step behind Lady Taethowyn just in case she had been too deep in her grief to hear her. "I know that this is your hall, but if--" She paused thinking of the right words "if you would be more comfortable in the home you've given my family even if just for the night to avoid the memories a short while longer you are welcome. I know sorrow when I see it." She said standing slightly back from Taethowyn her one hand holding the basket of food for her the other half reaching out nearly touching the womans shoulder.

@Taethowen
Sereg a Dîn

Thain of The Mark
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Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

Taeth heard the soft footfalls behind her, but even the instincts she'd honed as a pæthfindian in the Cavalry all those years ago could not break her out of her sudden, overwhelming grief. She'd thought it would be easier, at least, coming back here. She'd been here twice before already, after all, with the manor empty. But that was before she'd known they were gone. All of them.

The person cleared their throat, and then spoke. It was a gentle, voice--a woman's--and Taeth realized it must be Ceadda's mother.

"I know that this is your hall, but if--" there was a short pause, and during it Taeth finally released her lower lip from the grip of her teeth and took in a deep, shuddering breath "--if you would be more comfortable in the home you've given my family even if just for the night to avoid the memories a short while longer, you are welcome. I know sorrow when I see it."

A knot formed in her throat, then. She'd spent the last week hiding her grief from strangers or trying to ignore it on her own, not knowing if she could pick up the pieces of herself by herself. Or if she even cared to.

After another shaky breath, one which loosened the tightness of her throat and seemed to stem the tide of threatening tears, she let the tension in her slowly fade away, shoulders softly collapsing forward. She felt a hand settle on her shoulder then, and the warmth of it made her realize how much she'd missed human touch the last week.

"I would like that," Taeth answered as she turned around, blinking back the few tears that were insisting on sticking around. "I've been alone too much the last several days, and I'd like the company, if it's not an inconvenience."

Ceadda must have taken after his father more in appearance, Taeth noticed, taking in the fair hair of the older woman, rather than the darker locks of her son. (Though she was probably not too terribly much older. She'd be surprised if the woman had even a decade on her, for Taeth tended to look younger than she actually was.)

Taeth tried to smile as she introduced herself. "Westu hal. I am Taethowen. I assume you are Ceadda's mother?"

She bent down and retrieved the bags she'd dropped a moment before, shuffling through them quickly before holding one out. "I have some cured ham and blood sausage left from my journey, as well as a couple potatoes," she offered. "I'm rather sick of it by now, so if you can use them you're more than welcome to them."

@Fuin Elda

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