"Well, darn and tarnation." she muttered, opening up the map again. Her brown furrowed in concentration, as she marked another spot off the map. She'd traveled hard to get to Trestlebridge before nightfall, and had taken a room there for the night, before continuing her journey. "Ain't no way it's that one," she muttered to herself, as the house was occupied and the man that answered had rudely told her that, no, he didn't know Rastellion's father or uncle, before slamming the door in her face.
Undeterred, she rolled up the map and headed on down the road. Half the day she'd spent so far, going from place to place, and so far she had failed to find what she was seeking. "Mebbe I shoulda paid more 'ttention t' where Rastellion said his uncle lived," she said to herself, with a rueful chuckle. But she'd spent so much of that evening sighing over the handsome farm boy, that she'd barely paid a mind to everything he had said.
'Well,' she thought sadly. 'Dun matter anyhow, since he ain't got any interest in me no how.' She wiped a tear from her face, feeling rather foolish that she'd fallen for him, only to find out she'd misunderstood his intentions. Mentally she told herself to shut up, it was all her fault, and looked around the road to see if there were any more places nearby. At least, by coming out here and helping his family, she could do something for him and stay away from him all at once. Better than the alternative, she thought. Besides, he seemed like he was at a loss for what to do, despite the fact she'd offered several times to take over the farming for him. Wasn't it what she was good at anyway? She thought men fools, not for the first time that day, and continued her travels.
Up ahead lay a campsite and, curious, she went up to see who was there. She found a strange group of people around the site - a ranger, an elf and a man sitting down. As she stood, speaking to the ranger, the tallest man she'd ever laid eyes on showed up at the campsite, his intent stare on her. She looked back at him in curiosity and, to her surprise, he bowed to her.
She smiled back, and turned to quickly finish talking to the ranger and his companions. He, in the meantime, seemed to take the opportunity to examine Immalaine, his eyes taking in the tiny redhead. Finally he greeted her, asking what a lady like her was doing out that way.
"I ain't a lady," Immalaine replied with a grin. "I'm jus' a farm girl."
"Milady," he replied, smiling down at her. "I live in the woods. To me, you being a farm girl -is- a lady."
She looked up, and up, as he was very tall compared to her. Soon she found herself happily chatting away with the tall man, who's name he told her was Holt. He told her he was from a place called Anduin, though she shook her head, never having heard of it. And, upon mentioning that she could cook, he brought forth a small loaf of bread, which he broke off a piece to share with her. It was, she thought, the most moist, sweet bread she'd ever eaten, and she told him so. "Was made with honey from the flowers of my homeland," he replied, obviously pleased that she had liked his food.
He remained near Immalaine for some time, until evening fell and he looked over. "I must go," he said, "But I hope to see you again." Immalaine grinned and nodded, herself noting how late it was. She decided to pull out her bedroll and sleep at the camp, rather than continuing in the dark.
Soon, she was fast asleep ...
1 Year Earlier -
The graveyard was empty, save a lone young woman staring down at a nondescript gravestone, a bag and bow resting at her feet The sun's rays bounced off her long, auburn hair, causing little streaks of vivid red to appear. In her hand, she held a single white flower,stooping to lay it on the stone, as she'd done every day for the past 3 months. Straightening up, she continued to look down.
A passerby noted the young woman standing alone, slender and straight, her dark purple dress and dark red hair the only colors against the gravestones and grass. Shaking his head, he wondered at her dedication, for he'd seen her there each day on his way to the fields from home. Whoever it was, he thought, she must have loved them greatly. Continuing up the road to his home, the image of her slowly was replaced by thoughts of the evening meal and his work for the day.
She wrapped her arms around herself, staring down in quiet contemplation. Her clear green eyes scanned the ground below her, as though looking for some answers; answers that would never come. However, it was not sadness shadowed in the depths of her eyes, but anger, fierce and hot - and guilt. The dual blades of emotion tore at her; she tried to make sense of both as tears trailed down her cheeks unchecked. After awhile, she let out a deep sigh, and looked up at the sky above. It was still early enough in the day, she thought, the weather cool but not yet cold. Reaching down at her feet, she lifted the heavy bag on her back, before grabbing the bow from the ground to sling over her shoulder.
Looking down one last time, she uttered a single word - a whisper, carried on the breeze. 'Goodbye.'
Turning away, she headed up the road alone ...
