And so it came to pass that I parted company with the Sellswords. Though in truth the ties I have formed with them seem impossible to sever in their entirety. My Inn dwells at the foot of the village to which their hall overlooks after all.
It feels different. The conversation we had lifted a weight off of my shoulders. It feels different yet it is much the same. Why I came to have an affection for the Captain's daughter on occasion bemuses me. She is a crassly spoken mercenary with a temper I do not think I could suffer in the way her newfound husband does. She's stolen one of my wagons before without asking, smashed up one of the rooms of my Inn, even blackened one of the waitresses eyes. Oft has she come to blows with my childhood friend, and on one particular occasion in I had to step as though a skilled diplomat to calm them both and ensure that at the very least if they cannot stand each other. They will at least not come to bloody blows that would place me in an untenable position.
Despite her faults, that fiery red-haired foul mouthed oft whirlwind of rage is one of my dearest companions if I can be said to have them at all. When the knock came at my door I had stood in trepidation but it was not whom I thought it was. I will admit, a wide grin spread upon my features as she crossed over my threshold. There she was, no different to the last I had seen her. Our friendship forged in smokey taverns though they number few, late night bonding over the children we both love yet both have forsaken. Over copious amounts of rum and mead and wild nights of rutting with carefree abandon.
As stout and as formidable as it ever was. Of course to an extent she will never know all of the things I have done. There are some things I will take to the grave for she would surely shun me if she knew the true extent of what had happened with her sister. But I trust her unwaveringly which I cannot say about most. I think she of all may be more accepting of some of the more darker confessions than some as she has proven in the past.
Much remains the same but much is different. In my absence it seems she has wed that equally loud-mouthed companion of hers, prone to jest as he is unrelentingly no matter how terrible. In truth, he is a good match. I find the man agreeable, in small doses. Yet it is the most surreal of experiences to see this woman whom I have shared a bed with most intimately with a wedding band upon her ring finger, the sacred vow of marriage undertaken between them.
We will never share a bed again which sometimes saddens me. At first I struggled to adjust to the reality that she had committed herself without performing the sacrament never mind, but I have grown more accustomed to it. As well as her continued touchy feely manner which sometimes has grated with the reserve I have tried to show.
But it is her blunt and straightforward manner which continues to appeal to me, there is none of the chicanery which plagues society of men. What you see is what you get. A rare trait, one perhaps I do not share yet in her presence I find myself equally as blunt. It is one of the more refreshing friendships I have had in my day. Strange bedfellows we may seem but her friendship is one of the few that I have managed to sustain and last the test of time. Our nights together were uncomplicated, burdened not by romantic feeling expressed by one or another but the mere enjoyment of each other's company without expectation, without any commitment. Over a long period. It is for that reason that I will miss them.
I will give that husband of hers credit, he is not a man poisoned with jealousy and suspicion like another man that I know of.
But let us not make this an Ode to the Captain's daughter shall we. For that was not my intent upon the wielding of this quill.
No, I wish to reflect upon something of higher import than that. My membership of the Sellsword company itself. The sigil which rests upon my table. For once the pleasantries had subsided and our joy upon being reunited with one another initially lapsed. The conversation turned most difficult. We each in turn brought one another up to speed over a mug of the finest mead in all of the Mark, Cyningsmead, undoubtedly Théoden King's favoured tipple as reported to me in my boyhood years. She told me of her wedding, of developments with a former bedwarmer of mine and her Ranger lover. As time went on I laid plain what I had thought to be the ridiculous manner in which the Captaincy of this company is being passed around. And spoke of the irreconcilable differences between me and the new keeper of the post.
The long and short of it is that I thought this new Captain was my friend. We had shared whiskey together and good company as I had rode with the Sellswords off on their contracts earlier last year. I had enjoyed what we shared. We drank, we laughed, I heard of her troubles and she mine. I felt sympathy for this woman and for a time it was pleasant to have some company on the road and in my tent. But it was not enough for her. She wanted more. She grew infuriating in her jealousies and in time I thought it better we have some space on the return from our travels. It was around this time I believe she became acquainted with that Ranger.
I do not like Rangers, I do not trust them and I will detail why. They are meddlesome individuals to put it mildly who's only purpose that I have seen is to make my life difficult or cause some trouble or another for me. Once a long time ago when I could not move through the town or it's streets and woodlands without them breathing down my neck. Though what they suspected me of at the time I did not know. I have enough skeletons in my cupboard it was an inconvenience, to say the least. Though they eventually lost interest.
The second occasion when one tried to divest me of what he called my plunder in the Lone Lands, citing dead kings who are long gone and thus an irrelevance. As though it was his personal business and I was but a common tomb robber. Were it not for the fair Elf-maiden I had traveled with long ago. A woman if I can call her that. Whom I still dream about sometimes. That could fill a page entirely by itself though we shall not go there.Were it not for her intervention insisting that I had no relics of Arnor that may have turned particularly nasty.
Thirdly, we come to the point. That ranger. It seems the man had been courting her affections in my absence. All well and good. We were not bound together my friend, my bedwarmer and I. Never were the words spoken I am yours, and you are mine.
My friend first, my bedwarmer second she had come to my door and the woman had told me of this man's infatuation. I did not see why she had to ask for my permission in the matter but none the less I gave this man my blessing. She was eager it seems for what I could not give her and for that I could not hold against her. That I could forgive. It is only because of it's relevance to my conversation with the Captain's daughter that I even lend space within my journal to these words for it is the subject matter which has led me to the conclusion that I have come to.
I stood in the Inn in town and I bid that man to look after her. It would seem in the intervening period from what information has been divulged to me that that was not the case at all. He has scorned her. Under normal circumstances I would be angry, sympathetic to the fury that the fiery red-head under my roof displays but I am afraid that the knowledge leaves my heart as cold as the letter that came through the door in the summer.
The letter containing the knowledge that this Ranger, in his insecurity and spite had bid my friend that she was not to see me under any circumstances. And the phrasing of it's content. That although she was an independent woman and takes orders from no man she followed his word to the letter and simply vanished from my life without a word on the say so of this man, I do not cling to my friends or fleeting lovers in such a way I think it fit for them to inform me of their every move nor breath. That is not who I am. I would not compromise the freedom of another in such a way as I would not wish my own freedom to be compromised in such a fashion. No, what transpired here was quite different. The Captain's daughter rightfully pointed out my own transgressions asking how many have I left worried for my whereabouts but it is not the same. She knows my ways, she knows I cannot ignore the wind when it calls me, urging flight. It is not personal. And whether I am by the southern seas of Middle Earth or not, our friendship endures.
No, this was quite different. This was a conscious abandonment of friendship on the say so of another.
No words hastily scrawled upon a piece of parchment delivered to my door. can lead me to forgive such a slight when she cannot even deign to darken my door and look at me in the eye. There was the ever so small issue of her pregnancy to contend with also. For we had lain together frequently and I received word that her belly had swollen. Naturally I have contemplated the worst over this past year and it comes to my attention now the child has been born dark of hair. It is not mine then. It is the Ranger's. Part of the weight from me lifted. Were it not for that I might not have come back so soon but it is a relief.
Try as she might despite my listing of various concerns with the company and my grievances, the snake that our Spymaster doubtlessly chooses to spend his time with whilst vacating his office. Captains ducking out even more swiftly than that of the Watch in recent times. It has become a farce. She could not persuade me to stay in the capacity that I had.
And thus, ended my formal association with the Sellswords.
Yet I did not hand her the sigil back for she would not permit me to. Said I had earnt it many times over and that she would not even allow me to part with it. Fine, I thought. A keepsake. My promise to her father never entailed specifically that I had to be a member of the company anyway and I would certainly not take orders from the new Captain, unfit as she is. Newborn to look after never mind. Personal feelings aside. I do not let business interfere with my personal feelings. I can work with someone and indeed perhaps take orders if the situation requires it if it is personally profitable to myself. But the truth is I had never joined the company for need of coin. I had done it so that I could stay close and better fulfil my promise.
It was only when I noted the sadness in her pale eyes, oft bruised from brawling that I even began to relent in any sense of the word.
I felt the words coming to my mind and I took a deep breath.
A compromise.
It has always been a strange relationship with these mercenaries in truth, it has been an honourary membership of sorts in all but name. Yet I have lent my aid where I can when not preoccupied with my own business dealings. In battle or in the field however I have acted as a fully functioning blooded member. Taking orders and all from the Captain and fulfilling my duties. That was the arrangement we had, and it worked. So I in the end conceded to keep the sigil as a token, I will still lend my aid in a personal capacity if needed. But not under the jurisdiction of the present leader, under no circumstances. Only as outside help, as the masked man was in Ost Forod.
That, was the very most I could offer her. We spoke more of which I do not have the energy to detail with regards to my travels. Before I bid my fond friend farewell and blew all the candles out. It seems in another chance encounter since along with her husband and I have agreed to host a celebration party.
In practice this new arrangement might not be completely different after all. The sigil, the ties that bind.
Oh, but the wind whispers, the road looks so beckoning. Why had I conceded to those eyes. Promises bind a man, my promise to her father certainly has as much as I dote on her. It is still a connection, a tie. Even if a loose one. She does have her man now at least for when the wind beckons.
I do not think it likely she will fall once more into self-destruction with him around for when it does. But I would be pained grievously should my assertions be proven false.
Alas, I do seem to be very good at caring for a man that tries his hardest not to.
