Bree

I must be getting flighty in my old age. I have only once or twice in three ages, made such rash decisions before. I am on the road once more and Imladris is behind me for now, but I shall come back soon. Hir Elrond is my lord, and my bow is in service to him, but not like others warriors. He has given me free reign to travel where I think I am needed most, as long as I occasionally return to report to him. That is all well and good for me. 

The wind had picked up, warm gentle gusts making their way down Bree’s dusty streets. The rustle and clapping of washing strung from window to window created its own rhythm above her head. Joy leant against the stone wall surrounding the market square, Hjotr nestled against her chest, bound by cloth. That rustling of linen above lulled her into distant memories as she awaited Kip, the grocer, with the parceling up of her goods.

The letter is enclosed in an envelope hastily folded, and slightly bent from where the bearer had tucked it away before its delivery to its recipient. The seal, however, a wax seal of gold color with the inlay of a swan. It was precisely pressed on, careful deliberate application taken in how it was applied to the envelope. The recipient's name was scrawled on the back with a flourished but hurried motion of handwriting.

~~The Ambitious Corsair~~

Chapter VI

Work was harder to find in Bree than she had originally thought. In hindsight, she should have known. The people of Archet still didn’t fully trust her family even after living there for sixteen years, so why should the town of Bree offer work to a shifty vagabond whom they know nothing about? 

A line of wagons extends a quarter-mile out from the eastern gate of Bree-town. At the front of the line a gate-watcher handles each of the merchants, collecting their bills of inventory and checking their trading permits. 'You're all set, sir. Now move along', he says, lackadaisically ushering the next wagon inside.