The day had been taken by the obsidian sheet of night, and the woods that protected Gelvira’s hut, grew quiet of the birds chirping as the creatures of night patrolled instead. She found herself being here less, as she took frequent trips to visit her love, at her new home, situated in a small hamlet on the outskirts of Bree. The cottage was small, but it was cosy and quaint, and the smile Faron wore because of it pleased Gelvira beyond undoubtful measures. Leaving her was something she hated, and it dawned on her every time she left her own hut to visit her, and so it is not surprising that returning to the hut that they once both shared caused an emotion even she couldn’t fully comprehend.
Loneliness? Anger? Betrayal? Heartache?
It could be one, or it could be all, yet Gelvira found herself fighting the urge to even consider it in too much depth. Her new pup, Heva, was the greatest distraction. She kept Gelvira on her toes, and since she had not cared for a pup in a long while, she found herself learning all over again. She enjoyed it, and she adored Heva, just as much as she did Alaric.
When she found herself in the hut, she kept herself busy. She cleaned, so much so that her hands have, on occasion, been left red raw and blistered. She had always been an untidy person, but now, even the faintest hint of dust irritated her. The project she found herself most dedicated to would be the carvings she had started along each wall in the hut. They were personalised to significant events in her life, and she found the process rather therapeutic, as it had helped her come to terms with some events that hadn’t made sense to her before, or events she had chosen to forget.
All the time Gelvira had spent with Faron, or busying herself with chores and projects, she had come to realise the lack of time she had spent at the Lodge, or with members of her Clan. She had made an abysmal attempt to contribute to the Clan as of late, and she was discreetly embarrassed, especially as some of the guests had probably made more of a significant stamp than she had. She had been selfish, and dedicated her time elsewhere, but even she could admit that it was necessary for her. Before the past few sennights, she had herself consumed by indescribable thoughts that had begun to overwhelm her. It was because of these thoughts that she had isolated herself from her Clan, and she had started to consider the fact that was not so significant as she had hoped, since she was left alone, no word from anyone, and so she distanced herself further by not attending the moots.
That was until Ljota’s visit. It was unexpected, but of course, it was welcomed. Gelvira held great fondest for all of the Clan, but despite that, she found herself closest to her. They spoke for a while, and it gave them both the opportunity to discuss the things they had not been able to before, given Gelvira’s hibernation. It seemed to have done wonders for her, as she had not been able to speak of her feelings for a while, and she even appreciated Ljota’s general concerns about her well-being, and of Faron and their relationship. It had given her a motivation, or willingness, that she had desperately craved for a while, and so Gelvira had already started to contemplate what she was going to do next. She knew, at some stage, another trip to the Trollshaws would be necessary. Not yet, but soon, she thought.
After she left, Gelvira undressed and moulded herself into the furs. She looked to the other side, the side in which Faron once slept, and she smiled to herself. Heva had taken the spot, as she was curled up by the pillow, whilst Alaric was laid out down her side. For the first evening, since even Gelvira could not remember, she had found her mind to be clear, peaceful, and she fell asleep effortlessly.
