At least Aanya's anger has subsided a little. Of course she has forgiven Seaver, I am of course to blame for it all even though it is an act performed by two. She baked him one of her pies. Since the guard who wronged her has been reassigned, the poor girl is no longer afraid to venture into that part of the village. She returned a little later, all smiles, it seems the pie never reached Seaver after all, his men, flattered her so much, she agreed they may eat the pie amongst them, and she enjoyed an hour or so in their company. It pleases me to see her smile, a spring in her step from their flattery, they are decent enough men who always have a kindly word for me, unlike that dreadful one amongst them who put a child in Aanya's belly and admonished himself of all responsibility. Aanya is baking another pie for Seaver. I promised her I would take it over later. I'm sure she'd have liked to take it herself, I cannot lie, it is a weak excuse to visit Seaver again...something I've done more often than a decent girl would admit to. So help me.
It is odd what folk put a value on. I live comfortably, yet I value loyalty, honesty, friendship and the love of my son above all else. My house has little in it in the way of furniture, but it is filled with treasured keepsakes and my son's laughter. Seaver's house is filled with the finest of things, yet I do not believe he loves any of them, he is forever changing his house, all except that bear skin rug of his. Who am I to speak of honesty, when I will not always face the truth. I digress, I write of valuables because a man had a tale to tell in Bree about a valuable, stolen family heirloom. One of my grooms had sent word to the farm that a man was inquiring as to whether he could buy one of my horses. I insist that either myself or my stable master Wil deal with all sales as I will not see any of my horses go to a home where they may be neglected or ill treated. Women are oft not taken serious in business, many men feel it beneath them to agree terms, but I am a savvy negotiator if I may make such a boast. The sale went ahead, the man was agreeable and the horse liked him. We Eorlingas have a saying that a horse chooses it's master, ha! I could write about the mearas until this candle burns away to naught.
I thought I would call at the Tavern seeing as I was in Bree, I am rather glad I did, for I had a most enjoyable evening, made all the more so because Seaver stopped by. How nice it was that there were no awkward silences, the conversation and the mead flowed freely. T'was then that the fellow entered the inn and his temper was quite something to behold, I am quite astonished how Barliman does not have some folks bodily thrown out for they are sorely lacking in manners. It turns out, this fellow could be quite forgiven for his anger as it was born out of a recent robbery of his property, a priceless family heirloom. A kindly man, who said he was a doctor, offered to kill the bandits and recover the heirloom. The stricken man refused the good doctors help, despite the doctors insistence that he was formerly a sellsword. I am afraid I listened in on this conversation. I have been around sellswords since I came to Bree, my sons father was a notorious one, and I'd never known one to lay down his sword to take up the mantle of a healer, but good for him. The wealthy man then balled his fist and brought it crashing down on Barliman's counter, insisting he would kill every last one of the robbers himself. At that outburst, Seaver suggested to the fellow he may consider engaging the services of The Bloody Dawn, a local mercenary company, a one I was a part of, albeit as their Captains lover, stable girl and then by association I was mentored with a blade myself by my dear friend Blince. Ah, how I smile when I think back to those times.To my utter astonishment, the man dismissed the notion of hiring mercenaries, despite his threats to kill them all himself, he said the heirloom was a symbol of peace and no blood could be spilled in it's recovery. Quite the turnaround.
I should know better than to enter into a drinking game with Seaver, I was well beaten, and was worse for the drink. Laden with coin from my earlier sale, I would have been at the mercy of robbers myself on the road back to Towerglan. Seaver, offered to see me safely home and hired us a carriage, I am afraid my antics made my kinsman and likely the driver blush, luckily he has more restraint than I, until we fell through the door and into his house that is.
And there I keep finding myself, arriving after nightfall and spending my nights there before creeping home at dawn afore my son awakens so he is blissfully unaware that I have been gone. Yes, opinions differ upon what folk consider is valuable. I value love. I value all that I have, all those who have touched my life, I value above all, that one of my children was blessed to live, when all others did not. I value the time I spend with this man, how his burden’s have lightened of late, I value his friendship, his kindness, his Witt, our days and our nights together.
...But there are many who would look upon this 'arrangement' of ours and question whether I value myself...
