"Motherhood is the thing in a woman's life that catches her by total and complete surprise"
The Note from Rossethor puzzled her greatly, why would he wish to meet with her by the pond in Staddle of all places? Rossethor had endured much of late, Neyaa feared for his sanity but was no longer in a position to offer him comfort as she once did, she had to look on from afar hurting at his dissolution. He was sat by the pond beneath an old tree when she arrived, "Ello Darlin' his familiar greeting, she could refuse him nothing. Rossethor wasted little time or words on Neyaa these days, it was as if neither would allow feelings to linger, or at least that was the case for Neyaa. He came directly to the purpose of summoning her there, he had business in Angmar of all places and asked that she would look after his wife Nimeway whilst he was gone. Neyaa was unsure why out of all the more capable people he would entrust the welfare of his dearest with her, could it be because he knew Neyaa loved Nimeway despite all that had gone before?
When Ross spoke of the possibility that Nimeway was with child, she knew then, that this was what he required her help with. Neyaa had been present at enough births and reassured him Nimeway would have everything she needed. This prompted her to worry that he may never return, his tone eluded to that which then led to Neyaa's terrible admission to him. She had not meant for it to happen, reflection can be painful, but reflection can also be productive, and this would release a burden she had carried for some time. Her words tumbled forth of the desperation she had felt at losing a child of her own, one that had never grown to full term, took their first breath nor opened their eyes. Ross comforted her, ah but despite the grief of the memory, Neyaa was clever in what she revealed to him, in the time she was with Rossethor there had been no other men, yet he did not seem to realize that it was also of his child she spoke and she would prefer it to remain that way. The baby still grew within her when he had left her, but she would not speak a word of it to him in case it would have influenced his decision to stay, knowing it was Nimeway his heart belonged to. Fate intervened regardless, the child did not live, there was a hole in her heart where the child would have been and she was a wicked selfish woman for wishing for it back. She punished herself as always by drinking herself into a stupour every day, until she became so sick the threat of an early grave shook her to her senses.
And what of fate? By some cruel twist yet more tragedy struck, for that very night the most terrible of things happened in the Dawnhall. Rycroft, a young lad of The Bloody Dawn, had strode into the Hall and in his anger Rycroft had revealed contempt at the knowledge that he may be the bastard son of Hardoleth and made threats to end his life for the torment Hardoleth had caused to his Mother whom had never recovered from the grief of him leaving her. Hyrien had tried to reason with Rycroft, as had Embeth, but in one harrowing moment, Rycroft had swung his sword at Hyrien, and she was left without any choice but to plunge her dagger into him and end the life of someone else's child.
Neyaa coiled into a ball, the voices and movement around her slowed and nebulous, uncertainty rising, her heart reaching out to Rycroft and Hardoleth. How would he take this news when word reached him? Would he feel as bereft as she did at never having known her child? Would Hardoleth regret the lost time? Why had Rycroft's rage blinded him towards his father? Neyaa could not even guess what his reaction might be for Hardoleth was the most unpredictable man she knew.
Neyaa would not leave the hall that night, she begged Nimeway for a potion that would aid her sleep, however the turmoil of the day fought the potion at every turn until exhaustion and grief consumed her and she decended into a pit of blackness.
