Gone was the order, replaced by chaos. She now had to climb over, walk around, duck beneath things in her work room, her worktop just as problematic as stacked books met toppled pots, atop of them bunches of dried and fresh plant matter, yet where her chair was, was her journal, laid open with the ink drying, seeping into the fine, smooth pages. Yet she was not there, for her bare feet sunk into a bed of grass, clover and chamomile. A drink in one hand, she sat before the small bonfire, her head tilted back enough to watch the bright spiraling embers meet the diamond like stars above.
I was prepared, as prepared as I could be given my circumstances. I've even dabbled in a little flirtation, of course nothing serious for I still have hope of someones return, though that hope fades with each passing day. My only concern is that he is well, without pain, and that by some chance word will return to me soon.
Recent company. I have enjoyed several days in the company of many people, men, women and children alike, though three have returned to me so seek out more than a brief greeting or mention of the weather.
Geswine. A charming man, a man of words and wonderful stories, dare I say fair of face too. He and I have spoken twice now, the first occasion he told me a tale of a giant and a chieftain, a tale spun so well that a tiny audience gathered at our side, it brought me a child like glee, a carefree moment. His payment? A tale of my own, rather, of me. I have rarely shared that tale, for it is miserable, and in truth I did not tell it in its entirety. We learnt more of one another, and true to my own experiences, what first appears to be perfect is often marred. He spoke of the real reason for venturing so far from home. I look forward to our next conversation, likely a mixture of laughter, tall tales and honest truths.
Calum. I do not know what draws you to my side. The colour red? It does stand out amongst the rain soaked, muddy streets of Bree. To me you are intriguing, for you certainly have something to hide, but not your smile which seems to peek out every once in a while like the sun on a cloudy day upon that roguish face. As promised I have made certain that the space you require is available in the wagon to transport your goods, though it is becoming terribly crowded. You have a different charm to you than the bard Geswine, a more, rugged one. A man of several trades and I am not entirely certain you have been forthcoming about them, time shall tell.
Efram, Davick, Hobnobleg or whatever it was you called yourself. You sir, are a fly in the ointment! To think under my very nose, tricking me? Leading me into another blood splattered scene? Why come to light now? You claim you have been watching, that those who have caused the recent chaos are inconsequential. I am glad they do not interest you, for all the love you have professed for the town in the past, if their actions toward it did irk you, then chaos would ensue. I know your chaos, I know your ways, a mad king sat upon a throne in the mud splattered streets of Bree, blood at your feet and yet the poor thanking you. I will make your poison, though a vast sum you ask of me. I know you enjoy suffering, therefore it shall rot the gut as if they had swallowed a thousand shards of glass, yes, I listened to your tale about the glass embedded pole to be used upon those who would force themselves on a woman, an image I wish I could wipe from the mind. The blood will boil, they will beg for their mothers before meeting a death that will not come quickly enough.
I must take pause now though, my work has doubled and I am yet to complete the shipment to Trestlebridge, but my mind slows, I tire, and I cannot afford mistakes. I was gifted a bottle of wine from one who I helped recently, she claimed it came from the Shire, though how she obtained it I do not know. I think it shall be my treat for this eve.
