For ten years you've been denied a life of your own, doomed to follow me around Arda like a good little bloodhound. And for what?
The words, spoken with such scorn and spite, had rattled around inside of her mind, refusing to fade away. It was a good question; one that she had always thought she had known the answer to. It had been her duty. It had been her mission. It had been a quest bestowed upon her by her beloved father, a man whom she had always worshipped as only a daughter could. True, by the time he had made that request, Sairona had already been gone for almost ten years. The trail hadn't just been cold; it had been dead, buried and used to fertilize several generations of grass. But if anyone could do this, if anyone could find her wayward sister, it was Varani.
She remembered feeling so proud of his faith in her, so grateful that he had put trust in her for all her tender age. At barely fifteen, she had left their house with her head held high, long red locks bound up in a braid behind her, clad in a tunic of shining white with her deceased brother's sword at her back. She had ridden away on the beautiful bloodbay steed she had been gifted for her recent birthday, back straight and heart ablaze with purpose. She would do as she had been instructed, she knew it. There could be no question of failure. It would be a long and hard road ahead, but she would walk it with alacrity. She would not falter. She would not complain. She would return home triumphant, proving once and for all that her brothers had made the right choice when they had agreed to train her against the will of their parents.
So much had changed in the decade since.
It had been lonely at first, so very lonely. She had grown up in a house full to the rafters with seven siblings and now suddenly she had only herself and her horse who, for good or ill, was not a very good conversationalist. Once she had grown used to the silence, the solitude became as second nature. She had realised quickly that she preferred it; it offered a space to think, to feel, to just be without interruption. And if she needed to visit a few taverns here and there to ask for a lead, then it was only a few hours annoyance and discomfort to further her goal. She could tolerate that. Just as she could tolerate the occasional ambush from men or orc-kind along the road; it was good practise, after all. It kept her wits sharp and her sword arm strong.
She had never expected it to be easy, yet it had turned out to be far more difficult than she had imagined. Sairona was an expert at slipping away. Every time Varani had caught up to her, she had simply disappeared again like a mirage upon the horizon, leaving naught behind but some holes in the ground and at least one man grinning from ear to ear in every town she visited. It was frustrating and yet she relished the chase.
By the time Varani had arrived in Bree-land, she had been traveling for just over nine years. She was taller than she had been, hardier, more experienced and her horse had long since been shot out from beneath her, replaced with an inferior, though no less trusty, steed. She had cut her long locks short for ease of maintenance and acquired a few scars upon her arms and torso. She still wore her white tunics however and was just as driven. She had become no less committed to her cause.
Meeting Braxdan had changed nothing.
He had been the first person she had spoken to beyond the gate guards and the tavern keeper. She had not failed to notice his attractiveness but had thought little of it. She hadn't expected to remain in Bree for long enough for it to matter. Sairona habitually passed through places in a matter of days, never to be seen or heard from again. This time, however, was different. She had lingered for weeks, months even, always just out of sight, always just beyond Varani's grasp. All through the oddly extended stay, Braxdan had been there, offering Varani company, showing her around, aiding her in any way possible. When they had kissed for the first time, she had felt something stir inside of her but had hastily pushed it away. As soon as she had fulfilled her mission, Varani would return home. That had always been the plan. That could not be allowed to change for the sake of any man.
Now, days after finally finding what she had sought for so long, Varani took to her horse once more. She had sought Braxdan several times between that day and this but he had been nowhere to be found. She had wanted to tell him goodbye, to apologise perhaps. She had never lied to him. She had never led him to believe that it could be any other way. She had done what she had set out to do and now... now it was time to return home. She would have preferred to speak to him, to at least show that much respect for what they had shared over this last half year but she had faith that he would figure it out for himself in short order.
She refused to shed a tear. She refused to feel guilty or sorrowful. She was a proud woman, a warrior, a traveler. She bit back her regret, teeth clenched, back straight, head held high and began the long ride back to Rohan.
