She walks with purpose from the Mead Hall, her worn boots guiding her up the lonely cobbled path as different folk bustle about and tuck in for the night. Each step taken brightens his face in her mind's eye and she is reminded of the first time they parted ways...
Vallen stares up at the night sky, the snow dusted trees blocking most of her view of the stars.
Alfknutr cranes his neck a little and wanders his eyes over her exposed stomach with quiet assessment. His fingers suspiciously peruse a band of reddened skin that follows the unseen contours of her midsection. Slowly they wander down to her waist where pale bruising can be seen. 'You have taken some strain from the grip.'
Alfknutr props the side of his head back upon his balled fist and looks down at her with pity.
Alfknutr says, 'If...' He considers for a moment.
Vallen turns her head and shifts her body around again so that she could face him.
Alfknutr says, 'If you do not intend to drink your share will you part ways from the company before we arrive at the Hall again?'
Vallen stays silent for a moment and then nods. 'There is more for me to see... you know that I will return.'
Alfknutr creases his brow. 'My share will be bittersweet to drink then.' He looks over her again towards his charges and the prize. A shadow of regret plays upon his expression.
'There was nothing you wanted more than to find that mead...' She speaks lowly.
Alfknutr says, 'Time changes many things.'
Vallen lifts her hand to his chest and murmurs. 'Not all things.'
Alfknutr looks then more closely at each of his companions, as if seeing how time had changed them. He is pulled back to the present by her touch and raises his free hand to clutch hers gently.
'Think of the tale you will give!' Vallen smiles at the thought.
Alfknutr shakes his chest with a laugh that never takes voice. The amused smile lingers on his face, and his thumb slowly pushes over her knuckles. 'I want to taste my prize.'
'Taste it... no one is watching.' Vallen tilts her head for a moment to see those gathered, sleeping, by the cask.
Alfknutr looks over for a moment at the cask as his thumb continues to rove over her hand. 'Alright.' He leans forward, his eyes locked upon the cask. A smirk arises and he drops his eyes upon her face. Then he moves close to taste his prize with her lips.
She pauses along the side of the stone fence and leans against it, her breath eventually catching up with her though her heart never stopped aching.
Alfknutr looks out across the valley defiantly, though his eyes warily behold the movements below.
'Let us rest a while up here.' She leans over to catch her breath, the cold nipping at her throat terribly.
Alfknutr turns away and looks at their 'nest' with assessment. 'Vallen...' He looks this way and that, eyes climbing up the many mountain slopes.
'What is it? What do you see? What-'
Alfknutr suddenly starts laughing, unbidden, and unrelatedly. It is quiet but mirthful.
'Why do you laugh?!'
Alfknutr props his boot upon the end of the ledge and continues his warm laugh of relief. 'Ah...it is nothing, Vallen. I am merely reminded of a foolish pledge I made many years ago.'
Vallen opens her mouth in confusion and moves to wrap her arms around herself as she too looks around. 'Tell me.'
Alfknutr leans forward dangerously from his perched position, his cloak billowing. He smiles into the cold elements with closed eyes.
'Delling.. please do not... stand so close to the edge.'
Alfknutr says, 'Vallen!' He grins with closed eyes, raising both arms out slowly.
'What are you-' Her words fall flat as she watches him. She steps forward carefully, eyes never leaving his back. 'That is not funny...'
Alfknutr says, 'I...I remember the first time I ever saw the Misty Mountains, Vallen...' He leans forward a little more, his center of gravity shifting ever so slightly. The wolves upon his back flap and billow.
'Delling. Please.'
Alfknutr says, '...sunrise to the East...rays of pink light shooting across the heavens like fingers....and to the west...' He continues around her pleas and lets the whipping wind almost steady his sway.
Vallen glances downward as she closes in on him, the edge of his cloak flapping against her legs.
Alfknutr says, '...salmon pink mountains, wreathed in mist. I'd heard the stories of the Eagles. Of their legendary Eyre. Ha!...I pledged that one day I would climb these peaks to the very highest, and to find such a fabled perch...'
Alfknutr keeps his eyes closed and finds the perfect balance in his sway against the wind; but should it die down, he would jolt forwards precariously. Nonetheless he revels in this possibility, his heart pounding.
'You are cruel.'
Alfknutr says, '...no Vallen...'
Vallen could hear his words, but the sound of her own heartbeat drummed too loud to ignore.
Alfknutr says, 'Gods...have you never felt this before?'
Vallen would reach for his arm carefully as she spoke: 'Come back...'
Alfknutr raises his chin slightly, the winds nearly enveloping him into peril. But then the Sea-maiden steers him back to safer waters without any obstacle and he opens his eyes.
Vallen turns around quickly as he steps on safer ground and she wipes at her eyes, determined to hide her brief moment of weakness. 'Let us return to the camp.'
Alfknutr slowly lowers his arms, the few foot retreat already quelling the billowing of his cloak. He stares at her for some time, tilting his head thoughtfully. 'I want to know... why are you afraid of heights?'
'Do not ask me... Delling..'
Alfknutr steps forward and, with some delicacy, seeks to steer her around to regard her expression.
Vallen turns her body but she keeps her head turned to the side.
Alfknutr says, 'Look at you...unmanned by heights...you turn your ahead away as if I were something ugly.' He looks at her incredulously, his expression flushed with adrenaline. 'Look at me. Show me the will of Gondor.'
You say, 'My mother threw herself from Othram... she...' Vallen falters terribly and moves to step away, feet taking her back down the slope.
Alfknutr says, 'Vallen!' He stares, horrified.
Vallen ignores his calling and forces her legs to carry her faster, away from the height that held him.
She clutches her midsection as the memory takes her and a wave of sickness passes over her, she nearly heaves over the side of the fence. After a moment of heavy breathing, she collects herself and forces a different scene to unfold in her mind.
'Delling?'
Alfknutr says, 'Hmm?'
'Do you know what I wish?'
Alfknutr drops them in and wipes his hands, looking at her with a tilt of his head. 'What is that, Vallen?'
'I wish... that I could again bear a face so innocent as Merys'.'
Alfknutr quirks his brow thoughtfully and continues to steal a look at her whilst he stirs the pot. 'What do you mean Vallen? Do you dislike yours?'
'That is not what I meant. I sometimes forget what it felt like to be a child... or a young woman, in Merys' case.'
'The first time you yearn for another... to be untainted.'
Alfknutr looks away and busies himself, hiding whatever face he may bear. He remains silent for a moment, the sound of the embers crackling and the simmering water becomes their company.
'Surely that is appealing to you?' She sounds uncertain of herself as she asks, still thinking of Merys.
Alfknutr speaks his answer eventually, and though his expression is hidden, the kindness in his voice is obvious: 'I am unsure if I would yearn for you if you were restored to maidenhood and innocence. Perhaps were I ten years younger, such a chase would have appealed to me. But we both appreciate experience, we both know what our journeys have done to us, and we wear our toil as part of who we are.'
Alfknutr looks over at her with a warm smile. 'Vallen you are more beautiful to me now than I could waste any words describing.'
'Delling... what of your mother?'
Alfknutr looks up and a shadow passes over his face, even upside down. He remedies this by gently lowering his lips to her forehead affectionately and he never seems to answer.
'I did not mean to pry... I am sorry.' She falters slightly at his silence and she lifts her head again, the feeling of his lips on her forehead linger as she stares at the fire.
Alfknutr curls his arms around her front even more, his wise hands embraced like a knot, and he too stares over at the fire.
'I wish I knew more of my father... Desten does not speak of him.'
Alfknutr says, 'Did he know him well?'
'He left home when he became a Man... he knew him. Whenever I speak of him, he falls silent... I do not even know his name. I suppose... there is not a suitable amount of proof that Desten is my brother... but we share the same eyes. It is unusual, but I have a feeling of closeness with him, I felt it when we first laid eyes on each other.'
Alfknutr lifts his chin and looks down at her beauty, moved to pity by her words.
'My father could not have been that great a Man for sharing the bed of two and fathering separate children... leaving me. Do I get my wanderlust from him? My steady arm with a sword?' She contemplates aloud with a tone that isn't bitter, more curious.
They kept secrets, quiet heartbreak that were not hidden on purpose perhaps, for Delling would be able to speak about his mother in time. Her secrets were plenty and her own, brought to life only by firewater where she could delve into her mind and see...
Vallen licks her lips and lifts an arm to feel the air. Her feet are at the edge of the bridge and her mind wanders once more, allowing the brown and grey stone to turn white all around her.
She can feel the wind around her, her dark waves blowing up and across her cheeks as she views a woman before her with hair like her own.
'Do not leave me...'
'Not again...'
Vallen wiggles her fingers as she reaches out for the woman and breathes in deeply through her nose, exhaling out of her mouth. Her head tilts as she views the woman take her step off of the ledge. Grinding teeth sound out as the woman vanishes, her demeanor completely changing now as she stares down at the water below.
Vallen parts her lips as she no longer sees the woman, but a Man instead with eyes of her hue and hair of her brother's. He lay half within the river that started to leak red. She inhales painfully.
Her eyes close as she takes a moment to regain her focus. The visions were as clear as they were the day she had them. As her hands grip the mossy stone fence, she is reminded of words spoken between her and Skjalddis...
'I have no use for gold though I can understand your attraction to it. I have no use for mead either. No, my treasure is neither.' She turns slightly and looks to her friend.
Skjalddis says, 'What is your treasure then, Vallen?'
'To feel the winds from all directions and to hear the voices of many. My treasure lies not in possession, but in experiences.'
She had experienced much since arriving in Breeland - all of which she did not regret, not a single moment even though her journey had been long and painful at times. She had felt the bonds of friendship and the knot that tied her to Delling would not soon be cut... she had her treasure, her greatest discovery.
