A Torn Woman
She came alone into Edoras in distress, her heart was torn but she could do naught of it. Her dismay was heavy and her tears dripped like rain in a thundery storm, yet none would aid her. None could aid her. Who ever she spoke with felt pity for her plight but they sent her away. The torment burnt so harshly and cruelly upon her that she fell down and screamed in her suffering. Yet she was only beheld, there were none who would comfort her and none would wipe away her tears. She felt lonely, as though there folk about her but none of them had faces, they were blank and she cursed them all many times in her mind. She cursed the king and his family, she cursed the marshalls of the Riddermark and scorned their existence from that day forth. She was bitter in her ire, and spiteful in dismay. Though she was fierce for those who she loved, those who kept her from them would only feel a bitter sting of her wrathful.
When she calmed down she realized that there was no home for her in Edoras, and all she had now to her name were some coins and the clothes upon her back. There was little that she could do with that. Thus she spent some of her coin to loan a room within the Inn where she slept and lived, for she had no other choice.
She would watch the coming and goings of patrons and often gave them a bitter look from where she sat, though some would say that she was scheming, or brooding some cruel designs within her mind. Who could know the truth? As the days went she ate less and less, and her blue eyes grew more cold and her words that she seldom spoke became more bitter. Many would shun the scowl that she gave them, and those who did not give her aid would feel as though her very gaze burn them, that was how hot with ire her eyes became.
There was a day when two peculiar patrons took her attention as they came into the tavern. They were not of Edoras, and their garb was unfamiliar to her, though it was plain to her eyes that they were of the Mark, for they were blonde haired, tall, and blue eyed in the likeliness of the folk of the Riddermark. Her eyes were curious, and the bitterness in them faded as she watched them like a bird of prey waiting for the perfect moment to strike, yet this was not her moment. Instead she drew her feat upon the chair and wrapped her arms about he legs as she merely watched their conversing and eating from afar with her face hidden within the shadow her head wrap.
They were a man and a woman. A shield-maiden tall and armour clad, the man was clad in a similar manner, but he was broader. The man had seemed to notice her gaze but he thought little of it and continued his merry conversation with the shield-maiden. It was not so long ere they got up and went for the rooms that were below, and she followed. But she went no further than the top of the stairs. Thinking and wondering to herself who they might be, and perhaps wondering if she may try her chances with them.
