windswept

Marganil could not decide what was most suffocating, the heat or the loneliness. She had spent all morning wandering among the Bree-fields, the golden wheat her only companion. She had no right to feel lonely; living in a full house again alleviated a lot of her pain. And yet, today she could not find what there was needed to fill her soul.

She was walking home alone, the stars her only companion. How was she supposed to go? It did not feel right, to go back without him. Who was she if she just let him go like that? Was she not abandoning him, if she let go so easily? She had him close to her heart and it did not feel quite right to let him face the grief all alone.

Daurrie, the youngest of the sons of Gurni, had once more forgotten to pick up the order of fresh cheese that was awaiting them at the markets of Bree. Lunch was served and the young Silvan handed over the rest of the tavern business to Dal, hoping to be able to rush to Bree and pick up the forgotten crate before the inn would close for the day.

A continuation of this story, meaning it is entirely unreliable and biased.

This story is an account of certain events that transpired in recent weeks, written from the perspective of Theothar. Since all is written from his (completely insane) point of view, there is a high chance none of the following is at all accurate.

Prince Theodred studied her letter and she studied his facial features. He was a handsome man, his face was tanned from his extended time on horseback. His shoulders were broad and his hands harder than Altor's.

The Prince placed the letter in front of him. "I do not think you need my assistance, lady Adiwen! This letter is written in impeccable grammar and spelling.

She picked up the piece of paper. "What do you think of this part?" She proceeded to read aloud a piece of her text. "I am not sure of the use of 'ambigious'..."

Altor pressed his lips. He was uncharacteristically silent. Adiwen could not tell why he didn't answer; sometimes he was hard to read.

Today was one of those days. "Will you say something?"

"What do you wish me to say?"

"Am I ready? Are my skills impressive enough?" She asked, waiting not so patiently for his assessment.

He took his time to answer. "You can read and write well enough".

"Well enough to impress the Prince of Rohan?" She pressed on.