Upon waking up the next morning, Haedley made a discovery: He was late for duty! Quickly he dressed himself back into his guardsman's armour and he could hear the sounds of the tavern maids cleaning up down stairs, laughing and chittering as they did the dishes. With haste Haedley hurried down the stairs with the thuds of his boots, and the rattle of his mail as he stepped.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
One of the maids heard Haedley coming down, and called out to him, "Haedley! Where are you off to in such a hurry? Have you had any breakfast?" she asked. However he continued to hurry towards the door, knocking a chair out of place with a light screech upon the wooden floors as it slid over the surface, "Sorry! Bah- sorry! Nay, I have little time, I must go!" with that, he flew out of the door. The barmaid shrugged her shoulders and was baffled, yet did not dwell on the matter as she continued going about her business.
Meanwhile Haedley made haste through the streets of Harwick. It was a beautiful morning, and the sun was already climbing well through the sky as Haedley hurried, nearly bumping into some folk going about their daily their daily chores. "Sorry!" He cried out as he went by one person the street, "Sorry!" he cried out again as he went passed the next, and the next, and the next!
He only stopped once, and that was at his mother's garden, with hope he picked a little flower from it, and stowed it within his satchel before he hurried off once more with that same haste. Eventually he made his way up to the guard tower where he was late, hurrying up the wooden stairs to get to the top where the other guardsman were just discussing their assumptions as to where they thought Haedley would be. They looked upon him with some confusion as he finally made to the top of the tower. Haedley was bent over with his hands upon his knees, panting and sweating in his weariness; His long flaxen locks were in a mess due to him not having taken the time to comb it. The other two guardsmen glanced between one another in confusion, yet chose not to ask anything of it. After all, they had noticed that Haedley had been strange of late, and as soon as he gathered his breath he stood up and gazed out from the tower. His eyes saw two figures of riders distancing. He took a deep breath and then cried out so loud that he startled the other guardsman, "MELOWEN!" He cried out, and if that were not enough to startle the guards, he had then drawn his sword and waved it around. The sun's light shimmered upon it, "Melowen! Melowen!" he cried and the riders stopped. One of them turned course towards the tower, the steed trotting forth.
Haedley hurried down the tower, dangerously forgetting to have sheathed his sword as he went with eagerness. Then he made it to the bottom safely, but failed to best the final step that was just outside of the door; he tripped and fell flat upon the grass, the sword flung from his hand and pierce the ground, but thankfully nobody was in its course. Before Haedley could push himself up, he felt two hands grasping him, aiding him and when he looked up to his helper he saw Melowen's familiar eyes and embraced her, even as his sore spots hurt due to his fall.
"I will miss you,"
Said Haedley
Melowen showed hesitation, yet she tenderly embraced him in turn,
"I will miss you too,"
and let a sigh pass through her lips.
"Please come back when you can,"
Begged Haedley
"I will,"
She responded and removed her helm from her head.
"And be safe,"
Haedley encouraged with a smile upon his lips.
Then without warning Melowen suddenly kissed him. Haedley's cheeks burnt red with blush. Yet he seemed not to care for any on-lookers who may wander by to witness the act, he sunk into their moment and their lips lingered together for a moment before they drew back, Haedleys cheeks seemed to blush all the more. Melown put her helm back upon her head.
"Eleven more,"
She said,
"And a flower for each day,"
he replied, smiling at her as he took her hands, meeting her gaze.
However, Melowen knew that it was time for her to go. She stepped away and mounted her steed that was nearby, "Ferthu Haedley hál," she greeted, yet before she could spur off he stopped her and hurried to her side, "wait!" He said, digging into his satchel hurriedly, lest he lose his chance whilst she observed him with utmost curiosity. Haedley brought forth a poppy flower and he gave it to her. Then for all her roughness, Melowen took the flower with the most gentle and care.
"Ferthu hál," said Haedley and he looked upon her for the last time that day. Melowen left upon her steed and Haedley was once again alone, yet there was a lingering happiness. He collected his sword and climbed the tower once more, watching as the two riders set off to further embark on their journey, still, he could not help but feel a little sad that she had to go, and there was an immediate longing to see her again.
News of Haedley and Melowen went through the town like a wildfire. Soon everyone knew of it, and then folk would ask Haedley more of Melowen, however he would merely blush and shy away the subject. The only person who had spoken much of Melowen to was his mother, and how happy she was to have heard his tales, and how he felt of Melowen. Yet, Haedley's mother knew better, even if she brought happiness to her son, she knew that if things between Haedley and Melowen shall not progress with ease, for Melowen was a shieldmaiden, and it was a passage that forbid her the chance of being both a wife and a mother. Still, Haedley was entirely smitten by her, she brought him joy and longing when ever he had thought upon her, and how much he would think of her.
He kept his promise and continued to collect a flower for her with each passing day, day after day he would collect and stow a flower from his mother's garden as he wondered how Melowen was, where she was, and if she was safe. The worst he feared was that she would have fallen in those dark days, yet he had hope and she inspired that in him with her strong behaviour.
Before long Haedley noticed that his mother's garden began to look less pretty due to all the flowers he had picking. The sight of it had saddened him, yet his mother said naught, she allowed him his longing and to keep his promise, but Haedley also loved his mother and knew that if he had continued to take flowers from her garden then she would have none left to enjoy for herself. He sighed and began to worry if he were unable to keep his promise to Melowen, and the thought pained him. He felt treacherous at the very thought of not upholding his promise, thus he had decided to obtain a flower for the woman who he loved, he had to step outside of Harwick and search the fields nearby for flowers that were so scarce in the dry Wolds of the Riddermark.
Thus he continued. Collecting a flower every day as he thought upon Melowen, and he stowed them in several placed within his room, some vases, some within a drawer, and before long it became a beautiful collection. Yet some would persist to die and Haedley would grow sad from it, even if it did not stop him from continuing his collection: Such was the manner of his hope; even when it had grown dim he tried again. He wished deeply in his heart that Melowen would return to Harwick the next day, and upon that day he wished that she would on the next, and so he proceeded each day as the spring maintained, however spring was coming to an end and summer was drawing closer with each passing day.
One day at dusk Haedley stood before the gates of Harwick. His shift in the tower had ended and as everyone about him had come accustomed to: Haedley was going out in search for a new flower. Out the gates he went, and his eyes surveyed the dry grass with careful as he wandered. The sky was painted a beautiful orange colour whilst the sunlight remained there, hanging upon the edge of the world as it waited for night to draw in.
On that particular evening Haedley seemed to have trouble in finding his flower. He feared that he may have picked all the flowers from within the fields near Harwick, and though this was an exaggerated thought, it did not stop him. He was determed and thus continued as the birds settled in their nests for coming darkness and the hoots of owls became apparent in the night. Harwick was growing more distant over his shoulder, and he was growing worried that he would lose all remaining light if he did not hurry. The ground had already began to darken and Haedley felt tense pressure to keep his promise. He glanced left, and then right, but did not know where he could found his flower. He grew sad and his hope was drawing thing when he had climbed a nearby hill and there did he finally found his flower. He smiled with utter joy and stooped to collect it with delicate fingers. The sky was a deep, dark colour of blue at that time, and many things looked like mere silhouettes.
Then suddenly there was the sound of speeding hooves. Haedley quickly lifted his head to look up, yet before he had a grasp of what was happened he felt something cold come upon his back and a shock went down his spine. He felt his legs grew weak and thus fell upon his knees, his eyes were vacant with shock, his lips were parted in surprise, and then his chest fell upon the ground, but his hand still kept the flower as his darkening eyes gazed upon its beauty, his vision became blury and movement felt difficult. What were less than seconds seemed to be minutes of a struggle to Haedley, yet he could not resist. His hand closed upon the flower and then suddenly all went black. The fields. The sky. and the flower.
It was only two days later when Haedley was back in Harwick, however there was no life in his body. His mother hastened to see him and immediately she wept as she saw him, lifeless, but peaceful. Her only son was now gone, and when she saw the flower that Haedley had last she was filled with rage. She that it was Haedleys love for Melowen that had brought her son to his death, yet even as the soldiers convinced her that it was an Easterling blade, she would not accept the answer. She held a deep grudge against the woman who took her son away from her, and that she could not possibly forgive.
She grew bitter and in the summer all of the flowers in her garden wilted and died as she had not will to water them, much less even to gaze upon a flower. Yet like the flowers she began to wilt all the more, and before summer was over she fell ill with no further will to live. She surrendered to her illness and died, hoping that she would be reunited with her lost loved ones.
In the end Haedley could no longer keep his promise, for he was no longer there to collect a flower for each day that had passed without Melowen in his company. And it seemed that the dry fields of Wolds had only become dryer, baron, lifeless meadows without hope, and in its dryness Haedley's blood still stained the blades of grass upon which he fell that day when he was so determined to keep his promise.
THE END
