Aethelrien turns the corner and stops abruptly when she sees the familiar face in front of her. He notices right away her usual calm and quiet demeanor is gone. His brow creases in confusion and concern, unsure of what has caused her face to be filled with fury and sorrow. His eyes rake across her face and he winces at the bruise on her cheek and the small red scratches that cover her normally flawless pale skin. Her grey elven boots are caked with mud and another unidentifiable substance, blood maybe? In her hands she is holding a fluffy bunny toy, it’s clearly dirty and stained with a dark substance. Aethelrien holds it so tightly, her hand is trembling with the effort. She looks into the face of the man and her lower lip quivers, “Oh elvellon…” a tear spills over her cheek and leaves a wet path as it makes its way down her face. Her next words come out in Sindarin in a single rushing breath, “I couldn’t save them! They were too quick and clever, it seemed like they were expecting me.” Her eyes frantically dart back and forth, “…they…” She staggers, clearly weary, and leans on the wall. She clenches her hand tightly and lifts her hand up to hold the bunny tightly against her chest, “I couldn’t save them.” She bows her head and silently allows the tears she’d been holding back free. She repeats, her voice barely audible, “I couldn’t save them.”
Stunned at his friend’s appearance and her burst of such powerful emotion he stares at her in shock. Blinking rapidly, he shakes his head, and immediately steps to her side. He takes her hand and places the other hand on the small of her back, guiding her to a chair. Absently, Aethelrien lets herself be moved to the chair placed in front of the fire. She stiffly slides her body down into the chair and stares down at her lap, her eyes unfocused. He kneels down in front of her chair, gently pulls the bunny from her hand, and places it on the floor at her feet. He takes both of her hands in his, “Shh, Mellon nin.” Aethelrien lifts her eyes and looks into his face, a sorrowful sound escaping her lips, “I couldn’t save them.” His brow furrows but he remains there, holding her hands, watching her face as she grapples with her sorrow. He remains silent, determined to provide her the support and comfort she may need.
After several long moments, Aethelrien straightens up, carefully wipes the tear stains from her face and offers her friend a shaky, but thankful smile, “I am glad you are here.” She squeezes his hands, her pale green eyes shining. He solemnly nods, “I swore to you that I would be here when you need me.” He releases her hands and takes a seat in the chair directly across from her, his brown eyes never leaving her face. “First, tell me, are you okay, Aethel? That bruise and those scratches look painful.” He leans forward slightly and gestures to her injuries. Aethelrien lightly touches the scratches scattered around her face. Her brow creases, “Yes, I will heal.” She runs her fingers through her hair, suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. “What I could really use, is a drink.” She offers him another wobbly smile. With a wordless nod and another glance at Aethelrien he heads to the tavern to get both of them a glass of wine.
During his absence, Aethelrien picks up the bunny and looks at it, frowning. She runs her fingers over the soiled ears and flattens them down stroking the fur. She lifts it up, resting it on her flattened palms, and looks into its beaded eyes. The light from the hearth reflects back at her as she whispers an elven prayer for forgiveness. Her prayer completed, Aethelrien leans forward to toss it into the fire. She watches the toy as the fire begins to devour it, the orange flames dance and lick at the fur. The flames hiss softly as it catches. As she watches, Aethelrien allows her sorrow to drift away, like the billowing tendrils of smoke being pulled up through the chimney.
Her friend returns and offers Aethelrien her drink. She looks up and gives him a reassuring smile, “Thank you.” He glances at the fire and takes note of the bunny, its fur charred by the hungry flames, sparks flitting into the air as it burns. Holding the glass in her hand, she swirls the rose colored liquid around for a moment. She then takes a long drink, letting it warm her. He smiles warmly at her and takes a slow drink of his own, the sweet tang filling his mouth. He turns from the fire, concern still etched on his face he says quietly in Sindarin, “Can you tell me what happened?” He flinched slightly when the sorrow and fury briefly flashes across her face. It is replaced so quickly when she blinks he could almost believe he didn’t see it there.
Aethelrien remains silent for several moments, watching the flames, the flickering light casting strange shadows around the room and on their faces. The only sound she hears is the crackling fire, faint tones from the minstrels lute in the tavern main hall, and the rapid beat of her own heart. She wraps her long fingers around the glass, takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and lets it out slowly. When she opens her eyes she glances at her friend, his brown eyes steadily gazing into her own. Again, she inhales deeply, taking strength from his comforting presence and begins her fateful tale.
“It was a quiet night at the pony, I was at my favorite table near the bar. Just as I was about to take a bite of my bread and cheese the door to the tavern blew open. The sound was startling loud as the wood struck the wall.” She takes a quick sip of her wine and continues, “The man’s face was pale and he was breathless. I watched him, curious, as he stumbled to the bar. He leaned heavenly on the wood and spoke a single word, ‘orc!’” She looks up at her friend and noticed one hand was clenched into a tight fist, the other was tightly gripping his glass. “Immediately, I pulled my blade and bow from under the table and sprang to his side. ‘Where?!?’ I asked. He stared at me with blank eyes. I leaned closer, urgency in my tone, you know how I can be.” She chuckles lightly. He nods and responds with a knowing half-grin. Aethelrien licks her lips and continues, “‘Where?!?’ I ask again, this time he tells me a trade caravan was ambushed by 6-10 large orc on the road southwest of Bree near the border of Cardolan.” She shakes her head in exasperation, “This of course starts the folk to murmur.” He chuckles softly, in understanding of the attitudes of the Bree folk. “Of course, I swiftly left the tavern, mounted Calista and rode out of the West gate.” She takes a breath to release the building tension, “When I felt like I was close enough, I dismounted Calista and told her to silently return to Bree. Hiding behind a large piece of rubble I smelled the orc before I saw them. Among their grunts and growls I heard a soft whimper of a child and the quiet coo of a woman.” She takes another sip of her wine. The man notices the tremble in her hand, he takes a drink as well. Waiting for her to continue, not daring to interrupt. “I knew I needed to get them out of there. I couldn’t count how many orc there were from my hiding spot. As I snuck around the corner, a large orc that was rummaging through the scattered crates and wares turned and spotted me. As the warning was coming from his lips I fired an arrow into his throat, but not before the other orc were alerted. I shouted to them, ‘Let them go!’” She snorts a cynical laugh, “You think I’d know better.” She shakes her head and the man humorlessly chuckles. “So, there we were at a standoff, I looked over and met the woman’s eyes. She was so scared.” Aethelrien’s eyes fill with tears and her voice takes on a trembling tone, “The orc closest to the pair noticed my approach, he sneered at me, spittle flying from his mouth.” She paused, her whole body trembling, a few tears spilling over her cheeks.
The man watches her, concern filling his face, he stretches out a hand and says, “Do you need a moment, Aethel? You can finish your recounting this to me later.”
Aethelrien shakes her head, “No, best to get all out now.” She offers him a small smile, “He, this orc, grabbed both the woman and the child by the hair and started dragging them backward. I said, ‘No!’ This of course, brought delight to the orc. He tugged at their hair causing the woman to cry out. As I charged him and as I was swinging my sword toward his face he…” She stops suddenly and looks up into her friend’s face, her eyes wide in shock. “He killed them, Chris!” He lowers his eyes, sorrowful understanding filling his heart. A wicked smile flashes across her face, “I took his head for that.” She raises her glass in his direction and takes a long pull of her wine, nearly draining the contents. “Needless to say, they were foolish, I took care of them quickly. It was a tough fight.” She touches her bruised cheek, and chuckles, “I don’t recall how this happened.” He laughs softly in response. She finishes the last of her wine, and continues, “When it was clear they were going to lose, the last three or four orc turned and fled into the hills, the cowards.” She looks into the flames, a deep frown forming, “I didn’t give chase, instead I returned to the woman and child. The child, to my surprise was still alive, but only just. I held her head and sang to her until her light faded away.” She wipes away a single tear. “As I left their burning bodies I stumbled and fell into the brambles lining the path.” She chuckles, “So the story behind the rest of my injuries is just that.” She barks out a sharp laugh.
Feeling lighter after sharing her tale, Aethelrien leans back in her chair and motions with one hand toward her friend, “There you have it.” She lifts her hands and motions the finality of it.
The man leans back into his own chair, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, it came out in a whoosh. “Oh, Aethelrien, I am sorry I was not there to fight with you.” He smiles, apologetically.
She waves him off dismissing his apology, “You’re here now.” She offers her friend a bright smile. He smiles back, relieved his familiar star is shining once again.
They spend the rest of the evening sitting in front of the fire laughing and joking, all the while each is thinking about the orc bands that are drawing closer to Bree.
