She hated these wooden cells with a passion. They were small and she hardly had room to move around in. The guards were hated even more with their horrible, guttural speech that she couldn’t understand. The days passed without word of what they were going to do with her. Cerriel spent most of the afternoon, cursing their horses and straw heads, hoping for some kind of reaction. She soon realized that they just did not speak Westron, leaving the troublemaker to her mumbling curses again.
And they never kept her in one place. She would move to the next town and the next, always to be placed in another cell.
That was, until some red-haired man stopped to stare at her while she was tied to a fence post in the outdoors of some rustic town. Cerriel swore that he looked like one of the Wildmen that had first put her in this spot.
“You are not from here.”
“You did not have to tell me that.” She retorted. Her hair had grown out some and she certainly needed a bath or two. The man reminded her of it before breaking her out.
The ride across the rest of the Horse-Lord’s lands was a tricky one, but it was so long ago.
Cerriel found herself in Minas Tirith, causing some trouble for the guard there but nothing close to what she did in Bree. Sure, she used her father's name to gain a few things over other merchants, but she behaved. A lot of time was spent preparing for the moment she was facing now; the front door to her parents’ home. The one she had not seen in years.
Cerriel was no longer the goofy child she was when she first went to Bree and played around the town with her Northern-woman friend, Froeydis. Her friends Ergaric and Bilby were long gone memories of wandering in the Barrow-Downs. Dryn turning her crush down felt like eternity ago. The troublemaker was now in her early twenties and home scared her.
It was the housemaids she ran into first. They let out shrills of excitement that she had returned. The household feared the worst, that she was dead somewhere back in Dale where her father left her because she refused to marry the rich merchant offering more ships as payment for a pretty wife.
The troublemaker picked at the uncomfortable dress she had made in Minas Tirith. It was a bit tight but the tailor recommended it that way for her return. All Cerriel wanted to do was flex and tear the thing in the back.
First it was her mother that rambled on and on about her being so tall and beautiful. Cerriel cringed, knowing that would happen. She cringed more when her mother grabbed her crooked nose and starting questioning why it was not straight. She did her best to explain that it was broken, twice, in fights with others.
Her reunion with her father was much later and completely awkward. They both had things to say and Cerriel really had missed him, but didn’t want Calardan thinking he won. The arraigned marriage was still a bitter topic in her head. It was going to wait until their pride both gave in.
The next morning, the housemaids came into her bedroom with her old dresses. Cerriel did not really fit them and after throwing her shoes at them did they realize that Cerriel could perfectly well dress herself for the day. Her hair though, was braided and tugged at. How she hated her hair long. She was going to cut it as soon as her mother wasn’t around.
Breakfast was spent in the dining hall with her mother, Maeves. She got lost in her thoughts of flicking her bread at one of the younger serving boys as she went on about what they were doing that day. She let out a groan as she had been sitting in the same spot for far too long and was already full. Her head hurt from her hair being pulled tightly.
After the morning meal, she spent the day with her mother and her mother’s friends. They were also talking about something dull and she ended up reading a book. Or two, pacing the room. Something about a dinner with the same fat merchant that she was almost forced to marry caught her attention though. She looked at the small gathering as they went on about needing to get crates of goods to another city.
‘And they are boring again,’ she thought. She went back to her book. Cerriel stayed in her mind until she had to prepare for the evening dinner. She did not look forward to it.
