Yet again Gwaedhiell was the victim of her own memories. Her room at the inn had been silent save the roar of the hearth. Her mind drifted to the day she had left home it was her sixteenth year, it started out just like any other morning. She had decided that once the day was over, she would leave in the night and slip past the eyes of the servants and guards alike. Young and compulsive she had no knowledge of the outside world. But to her it would be better to leave than to remain in the palms of the very people that brought her into existence. Her mother stepped in no sooner than she had opened her eyes "The day waits for no lady. Your handmaid shall be here shortly, with what you are to wear. You are to meet your betrothed again this afternoon. I suggest that you do not keep him waiting like last time. Lord Carvell is not known for his patience. While your brothers are your elders, it does not mean that you have no place in keeping order. See to it that you do not disappoint me. Your Father and I are not the only ones that look to you." Lady Hestien had left the room without so much giving her daughter a second glance. It had been her birthday but it seemed even celebrations were nothing in her eyes. With an aching heart she rose from her bed and in time the handmaiden Eleanor had arrived. She was a small woman for a Gondorian, her features plain but her heart was one of the fairest in Gondor. Soft spoken and her light brown hair had often been cropped back into a stern bun. The woman felt like a Mother to Gwaedhiell, more so than her own. When she had entered she noticed the tears on her lady's face "What troubles you my fair lady?" She inquired. Gwaedhiell began to pace the room, her footsteps light on the black tiled floor and the sun had glistened across "Is there no love here Eleanor? Why must duty always outweigh love in these halls?"
Eleanor had sighed deeply, looking to her "It is not my place to say. For I am only a handmaiden. And I dare not speak against his Lordship or Lady of the house. But one thing I do know my dear maiden is that you have love in your heart and I believe when it is your time, you will have the strength to carry on the family name. Now please dress, here is your gown where it with pride for you are no street dweller. You are Gwaedhiell Hestien, Lady of Gondor. Today you will show your guests and family alike, a maiden's mercy should things get heated." The gown had been made of fine linen and white as snow it would stand out against her bronzed skin. She found no joy or glory that day. Only emptiness as she stood amongst faces that were only interested in diplomacy and bearing. Standing with a man she hardly knew, let alone loved. She was but a symbol of beauty in Lord Carvell's eyes. She was still a girl and had little to no direction, but yet others looked to her for leadership and guidance. Ten years later she stands in a room with a roaring hearth in a rustic town. Gwaedhiell sighed looking down at her hands and then her blade, wondering who she was in the present day. In solitude she stood, in solitude she breathed.
