The Mead Company

A blizzard thrust snow through the air upon the Misty Mountains, the whistling was harsh and the gust of the wind was like a blast upon any who sought to oppose it’s natural power. “Therwen! Where are you?

There came a day when Redwick left the Riddermark and Snowbourn that he was so fond of to return Bree-land where he wished to see his friends and companions once more. Though, what he found was more than what he expected and with Therwen tending to his daughter Erline with all her Redwick often lacked the close companionship he once had with her, though he continued to love her and Erline all the same. For he knew that there were a difference between a lover who is a stout shield-maiden and a mother.

Hunched in his woolen cloak and with the rain lashing at his features the tall Northman strode on. Looking back at Jarnsalr for the last time the pouring heavens mingled their water with a brief tear of grief
 

‘There was no time to inform everyone.’
 

*written neatly in Westron*

Greetings Knot and our friends in the Mead Hall,

We miss you folk, for it has been long since we have last seen you and much has happened since. We are parents now to a beautiful girl who we named Erline. We wish to be wed as we return to Bree and wish Knot to bind us. We will return as soon as winter has passed.

We hope you all are well.

With much love,

Red and Therwen

Within Redwick's adventures he had before encountered elves, yet not all of them were as they seemed and he seldom shares tales of it; especially amongst his own kin-folk. For he himself would call himself ælfwine, yet he would not have other men of Rohan hear of it.

A slight figure hobbled across the uneven hillside, occasionally pausing to crouch beside a tree to pluck berries off the vines. One by one, she dropped them into her cloak, which hung like a bag in her arm. With the rest of her company asleep in camp further downhill, the peace of Evendim's woodland was a welcome rest.  Yet over the sound of birds and the soft breeze of the wind, the wounded howl of a wolf is heard. 

Merys paused, straightening up to look around. The deer nearby did not move, so she returned to her picking.

With a rustle of furs and fabric, Wil pushed through the low, sloping door and entered the Forochel igloo where his love lay asleep. Just as he left her hours before, unconscious with her head bound in a bandage. He sank down beside her on the mound of furs and began to finally relax for the night.

Stirring, Merys opened her eyes and turned her head to look beside her. She smiled and reached out a mittened hand to stroke down Wil's hair.

"Oh," Wil mumbled. "You are awake."