The steady clip clopping of hooves on paved road fills the air, accompanied by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle, warm wind. The air was pleasant, riding in the shade of tall fir trees to keep the sun off his back, and relaxing in the southern wind coming up from behind. Taraborn enjoyed the journey North from Bree, and he was nearing Trestlebridge, there he would stay a couple of days, gathering provisions for the second part of his journey, speaking with Taala and Eroforth who he knew to be in the area, and undoubtedly seeing Narys.
It had been weeks since he had replied to her letter, sending his response northward. Nothing had come back. Not a word from her. She may not have received it, but that seemed unlikely. Perhaps she didn’t want him, and her letter had just been lies to placate him.
He shakes his head, telling himself to stop thinking like that. He would try to avoid seeing her till had been there a little while. Maybe after he had spoken with Taala. That might be for the best, he could speak with his old friend and see what she had to say about what she knew before he risks seeing Narys. In truth, he hadn’t wanted to take the job that brought him through Trestlebridge, but the pay was worth it; half again what he would normally charge and anything he found on the targets would be his. It was certainly worth it.
Then, before he knew it, he was riding through the South gate of Trestlebridge, guiding his horse to the stables at this burnt out town.
He stops.
There she was, copper hair hanging loose down her back. Her sea blue eyes watching him with curiosity.
He slips down from his saddle, and pulls his helmet off. She gasps, whispering a curse to herself as he walks towards her. The mixture of emotions that raged through his mind in those few steps were enough to drive him to the brink of insanity. Should he hate her for what she did? Should he love her as he wants to? Should he be angry that she never wrote back? Should he be worried for her at the sight of her arm in a sling? What does he want, to pull her into his arms like nothing was wrong, or maybe to start shouting and cursing? He stops a short distance from her. Farther than he would normally stand from her, yet closer than he would with anyone else. That short distance that felt like miles.
“Looks worse ‘n just an accident.” He says simply, gesturing to her arm. He couldn’t show any weakness, he had to be stern. Till he knew what he wanted he couldn’t give her anything.
She was flustered by his appearance. He could see I in her eyes, her actions, and how she reacted to his question. “Oh! Aye! Nay! I mean… it’s… It’s almost better.” He wanted to curse her, her nervousness only made her more attractive to him, the last thing he wanted.
Their conversation continues awkwardly, he explains why he was in the town, she tells him how she has been whilst in Trestlebridge. Then he asks the important question, one that had been burning in his mind.
“Did ye get me letter?”
“I did.” She responds, licking her lips nervously, the sudden question seeming to have thrown her off. It felt cruel, but it was what he had intended. “Thank you, for what you wrote.”
“But ye never wrote back.” He stares at her, his blue eyes cold and calculating, looking for any kind of deceit or lie in her words. Part of him wanted her to be dishonest, to give him more reason to hate her, to shout at her, the part of him that was still so adamant not to forgive her. The rest of him wanted to stop what he was doing and pull her into his arms.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to.” She answers, her eyes widening at the question, no sign of a lie.
“I didn’t know if ye wanted me t’ reply.” He counters bluntly.
She grins, sheepishly, but it’s a grin nonetheless. “I wasn’t expecting you to. But I’m glad you did.” That threw him off. Why was she glad, she hadn’t written back?
“Yer glad?”
She had taken him by surprise, and now he had the poor footing, the soft look she gave him only proved it. “Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I weren’t sure ye wanted me to.”
“Well, I was a bit nervous when I saw it. Wasn't sure what you'd be saying. But it was a nice letter.”
“When ye didn’t reply I thought ye weren’t happy with it.” He gets out quietly. He’d been so annoyed, so worried, for nothing. But where did this leave them?
“You thought I wasn’t…” Suddenly she lurches forward and wraps him in a one-armed hug. He didn’t even try to stop, only wrapped her up in his arms gently so as not to crush her injured limb. She drove him crazy, yet he doubted he could ever stop loving her. He held her close, refusing to let go as he breathes softly, taking in the scent of her coppery hair, a smell that reminded him of happiness and comfort.
All of a sudden it was as though they were back to normal. The silent pauses, awkward looks and blank tones. They joked and laughed with each other, hugged and talked as though nothing had ever come between them.
In the back of his mind that small voice kept telling him to resent her, but right now, she was his world, his everything, and he wasn’t about to let go.
She took him down to her little hut that she had been living in, and they had bathed together in the nearby river, enjoying each other’s company. They lay together on the beach for a long time after the bath, talking quietly and without a care in the world for who might see. It had been a long time since he had lived in a house for a long period of time, but somehow this beach, under the stars and beside the gurgling river, was home.
