Zandrianna lifted her head from her reading, as she looked around the room, noticing for the first time the shadows crossing the room as evening fell. Blowing a stray hair from her face, she bookmarked the page of the small tome she was reading and set aside as she stood up to tend the fireplaces.
Bending down in front of the hearth, she hummed a tune to herself - something she'd had jotted down earlier that day, and was still working on in her head. Her brow was furrowed in thought as she added a new log, poking the embers to reignite the flames. For some reason, she wasn't pleased with the melody, no matter how hard she tried and each attempt only frustrated her further. The fireplace in the main room now crackling cheerfully, she stood up and went into Althessia's room to check on the sleeping babe.
She approached the bed quietly, looking down on her daughter and smiled, kneeling down beside her bed to stroke her back as she wondered, not for the first time, how she'd gotten so fortunate to have this small wonder. Soon Althessia would wake, Zan thought briefly, and want to be fed. But for now, all was quiet in the house and so Zan went to far side of the room and sat on the windowsill, as she'd done most every night since he left.
"Where are you Kom?" she whispered to herself, looking out at the horizon, touched with the reds and purples of sunset. Reaching up her hand, she rested it against the glass, watching out the window as she waited - hoped - to see him come up the walk. She longed for him to come barreling into the house, slamming the door, as he spun her around in his arms, eager to share with her some new tale or strange tome he had discovered somewhere. The desire to hold him was a physical ache, one that only grew with each passing day. As she watched, a single tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. She wouldn't cry - couldn't - for if she started, she wasn't sure she would ever stop. And besides, those around her needed her to be calm and composed, brave and strong. No, Zandrianna thought, she simply could not give in to the urge to mourn. Composing her face into a serene expression, she pushed off the windowsill and went to the pantry to make note of what she needed for the house.
A brief chuckle came from with in the pantry doors, as she let slip a low rohirric curse. It was, she could see, some time since she'd last been out for supplies, and she was running low on everything. Quickly making a list, she began mentally preparing herself for a trip out to the shire, thinking of what she would need for herself and her daughter. A thought flickered in her mind that she could simply ask someone to go for her, but she pushed it aside. Her friends had their own worries and their own lives, and did not need to be adding her own problems to theirs. She could do this on her own. Until he returned home, she was alone and she would learn to make do.
Writing out the list, she heard the first thin cries of Althessia, awakened from her sleep and hungry as she always seemed to be. Setting down the charcoal and parchment, she hurried to her daughter's side, picking her up to cuddle her, as she went to the chair to begin her feeding. If Zandrianna was tired, she didn't appear to mind.
Her daughter was her world now
