The firelight of the ovens were dwindling as no one was stoking them at this time of night. It had been an hour or two since Muirenn had finished her baking and left for home. With her chin propped in her right hand, Ellany looked dreamily at the quill poised in her left hand. A grin played upon her lips as she thought about how much had changed in the past few days.
Thinking to visit Barliman and surprise him with the news that she would be staying in town, she had gone to his tavern, the Prancing Pony. There, she came upon a young man, who had injured his hand, and his sister. She had done her best to reduce some of the swelling and wrap it carefully in bandages until the man could see a proper healer. Always traveling on the road with her father, she was glad that she had learned the basics of treating an injury until a town could be reached. How quickly she had become friends with Dwyte and Muirenn, always seeing them in town! Could she count them as friends now? Ellany's green eyes sparkled at the thought.
Muirenn and she had already had what she considered their first adventure. Looking down again, she dipped her quill into some ink and pressed it to the blank page before her. Propped in front of her was Muirenn's grandmother's cookbook, which she had just found a few days ago, thanks to her friend, Revio. Ellany began to transcribe the recipe in front of her into the newly bound book in a neat and clear script. She decided that she wasn't too concerned with being elegant as most people following a recipe would simply want it to be legible. The cookbook was particularly important to Muirenn, as she cooked for a living. And to have it stolen by some random man in the street had caused quite a panic. They had searched all over town for it and even reported it to the Watch. Now that the prized book was safely in front of her, Ellany grinned in retrospect at the whole novelty of the event.
But in truth, Ellany didn't really believe that Muirenn needed the book. Perhaps it was precious to her as it was her grandmother's but Muirenn was talented enough that she most likely didn't need to follow recipes very much. Still, in order to prevent a similar occurrence in the future, she had offered to make copies of it.
Running out of ink, Ellany lifted her quill from the page. However, before she placed it back into the inkpot, the memory of Dwyte's song resurfaced in her mind, and the quill's end feathers brushed left and right across her nose as she fell into deep thought. It had been a sad, lilting tune, reminiscent of happier memories from the past. The lyrics were about a woman with raven locks...
A blush flashed onto Ellany's cheeks abruptly. The song had been about the woman he had loved...who had died...until he replaced the line about raven locks with blonde ones. A mortified look came into her face as she dipped her head and rested the quill over her eyes instead. The confession of his feelings had come to her as a surprise. They had only met a couple times...and he still seemed broken-hearted about his lover who had passed away. What did he mean that he felt similarly with her as he had with his former lover? Was she supposed to replace her, just as her hair color had replaced the raven-hair lady's in the song? Ellany shook her head, sighing. Dwyte was a kind and caring young man, really. But she had nothing to say in response, considering how short a time they had known each other. She would like to get to know him better as a friend first. Though, in her heart, she doubted that there could be much more than that. She knew from the look in Dwyte's eyes that he still cared deeply for his wife, and that kind of love and hurt was not something to be forgotten so soon.
Ellany sighed once more as the firelight crackled and diminished. Glancing out the window at the night sky, she lay her quill aside and closed the recipe books. That was quite enough thinking and working for today.
