Raedda

Aeruthuil sat down in front of the fire, the ground soggy. As he glances over towards one of the men tending to another he sighs before muttering to himself, ''At least Brandant returned, fairly in one piece. Physically at least..'' Something which was surprising to him, after all not many had returned from the Moors.

My hands have held many things.

A moth-eaten book, as I sat in a large tent, surrounded by people whose names I can't recall, while an old man pointed out the letters on the pages to me.

The side of a rickety old wagon as we bounced along endless, nameless foreign roads, and I cried for not knowing where I was going, or where I had been.

A stale loaf of bread as I sat beside an ice-covered stream, wondering how and where I'd find my next meal. 

My days continue to be perplexing and strange, though not in unpleasant ways.

Why he had gone there, he did not know. But there Aeruthuil sat down on his knees, surrounded by water and green, and in front of him a grave.
Aeruthuil had loved his wife and his daughter with all of his heart, being and soul..-But when he lost his best mate the already empty hole in his life had grown five times it's original size it seemed.

There was a particular spot on the edge of the stream that she had now chosen as "hers". The gravelly bank jutted out into the water beneath a tall, broad-limbed tree, and across the creek, the bank was stony and green, thick with reeds as it climbed a little rise and tumbled off into the fields beyond. It was pretty, here at this spot. Dawn and dusk were the best times to stand here, she had concluded. Fewer passers-by. Less clamor from the nearby village drifting through the air. Just the wind, the birds, the crickets.

I have found work at last. It is nothing consequential, really. But it should allow me to remain in Bree for now, as I have somewhat settled here, and found the place to be charming and quaint, despite its occasional ignorance and narrow-mindedness towards outsiders. I will remain at the inn, or perhaps find a rented room, as that may be a little cheaper. The urge to leave is still present, and I make no promises that I will not give in to it at some point.

She didn't know how long she had sat there on the edge of the bed. The solitary candle on her bedside table seemed to capture and hold her attention. The flickering little flame, a hypnotic, writhing creature of gold and white, reflected in her emerald eyes. The rest of the small, sparsely-furnished bedroom, one of a dozen in the Prancing Pony inn, was bathed in shadow.

Thoughts drifted through her mind as if they, too, were shadows. One following another, each one slightly different and unique. A strange, internal argument.

It was reckless to care for someone.

It had taken almost all day and all night, but Aeruthuil finally got to see Laurëa again..and finally the worries had gone. She had acted differently, from how she had done previously.
In a way she seemed warmer than before, perhaps less in control of her emotions it almost seemed like.

My feet are so weary. I walked far today. I don't know what it is that I look for every day among the sunlit fields and shady trees. I only know that I cannot keep still. My mind will not let me. 

I passed over the little stone bridge beyond the west-gate. I turned and looked along the stream. I appreciated the way the sunlight glinted off the water. And, fool that I am, I looked for a tall, dark shape to be standing in the grass along the bank. He was not there. And I was glad. 

Aeruthuil stares away in to the distance near the all too familiar creek. It wasn't clear to him how long he had waited, but they had been many hours for certain. Laurëa hadn't shown herself this evening..-He had seen her in a flash of course, but he had quickly gotten distracted by the rather clingy healer girl Edelinia. The young girl had followed him, for too long and too far.