Aanya

It was foolhardy to think that I could spend time with this woman and not grow attached, I knew it the night I questioned our attachment and asked what it is that we are doing here.

I knew that we could not remain friends and simply stay that way indefinitely whilst we shared one another's beds. A decision had to be made one way or another. A decision I did not want to make, a decision I knew I had to take.

“What is it we are doing here Neyaa?”  That was the question he asked that led to that terrible fight that almost cost us our friendship. And now I pose the same question, ‘What is it we are doing here?’

​The first thing the Eorling woman was aware of when she awoke was the pain in the back of her neck when she lifted her head. The pain tugged and traveled across her shoulders and shot up into the back of her head. Her throat was parched, her eyelids stubborn to open. She rubbed them both, her vision cleared before her thoughts and it was then she realized she was still sitting on the floor of her chambers next to the wall near to her door.

At least Aanya's anger has subsided a little. Of course she has forgiven Seaver, I am of course to blame for it all even though it is an act performed by two. She baked him one of her pies. Since the guard who wronged her has been reassigned, the poor girl is no longer afraid to venture into that part of the village. She returned a little later, all smiles, it seems the pie never reached Seaver after all, his men, flattered her so much, she agreed they may eat the pie amongst them, and she enjoyed an hour or so in their company.

So, Aanya, is angry with me! At last she has taken the children into the village square and given me respite from the disgruntled looks and sarcastic comments. It must have been quite the shock returning last night to the sight that befell her. I do not think she picked her jaw up for several hours. I make no apologies, all said and done, it is my home, it happened and cannot be undone. Though it is not my intention to seem unkind, but there are worse things to stumble upon.

It is two turns of the hour glass until dawn, and I have yet to find the sanctuary of sleep, peace from the endless questions that tap upon my skull. Questions, I doubt I shall ever glean the answers to. Why do I trouble myself with this? Why do I even care?  It is because I cannot help but care, he is my friend, he is tormented and troubled, convinced that he is cursed on account of dreadful deeds he has confessed he has done and in confessing them to me, I am now also burdened with them.

Part 4

The Midgewater Marshes is an ideal place to dump a body...

If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.

The agonizing pain to which she awoke was all too familiar.  Neyaa struggled to a sitting position, the fear in her eyes evident as she called out to Deredan.  The pain tore through her abdomen, instinctively she placed her hands where it hurt most and attempted to adjust her breathing to calm the torment, awaiting the inevitable.

It seems I am a failure.

All was going well in the very beginning.  You are a strong healthy lad, Branston, but I am simply not able to produce enough milk to feed you.  I feel such shame, but your woeful cries, as the days and nights passed that I could not satisfy your hunger, gave me enough cause to raise my stooped head and find you a wet nurse.