Three Years Ago
The morning was typical for Bree in the spring, the sun bright and the air fragrant. Crowds filled the courtyard outside the Pony, all going about their business....travelers, merchants, local farmers, townsfolk and na'r-do-wells, all in a teeming mass.
On the large stone fountain that graced the courtyard sat Xanderian, rich green armor standing out against the weathered stone, the bow Heartbreaker resting beside her. On her other side sat a raven-haired girl, her simple tunic and breeches covered in forge soot, as was her delicately featured face. Her profile was clearly foreign, with a soft refinement seldom found amongst the simple folk of Bree. Wherever she hailed from, it was clear that whatever garb she wore, she was not born to the life of a Blacksmith.
The Elleth held the girl's hands tenderly, gently bathing them in the fountain with a wet cloth, shaking her head at each cut and bruise that she found on the graceful fingers. "Truly my dear Fille, there must be some confusion. Is it not the metal you are meant to hammer and not your hands?"
The dark haired girl laughed but did not pull her hands away. "Haywood says the mark of a good smith is how bad their hands are...anyway I need to toughen them up. You worry too much Xan."
The Huntress let it go but it was clear she didn't approve of anything which harmed the girl as she soothed her battered hands, trying and failing not to fuss. "At any rate, there is no more news from Ingfeld concerning these strange bandits, so for now we must simply wait until...." She stopped speaking as a rider came clattering noisily into the courtyard, causing some to back away from the mighty warhorse in unfamiliar livery.
Both women looked up to see what at first glance seemed to be a boy in ill-fitting armor, a large round visored helmet and dun colored great cloak obscuring most of their face and form.
Fille stared, eyes wide..."Now what new curiosity is this?"
"A Rider of the Mark..." whispered the Elleth, "Or at least a small one..."
With a grunt of satisfaction the figure swung off the horse and dropped athletically to the ground, though the cloak was now clearly a good foot too long for their frame and sprayed a cloud of trail dust in all directions. The figure stretched as if they had been in the saddle for far too long and looked around.
Sweeping off their helmet, a cascade of golden hair flowed down the rider's back, her bright, sun-kissed features clearly placing her as a young woman of the Riddermark. "Well...so THIS is Bree! Smaller than I would have expected."
Xanderian smiled and spoke from the fountain. "The Rohirrim consider most all they see to be smaller than expected, traveler."
The blonde girl spun, and gawked...apparently seeing an Elf for the first time. I...ummm...oh....I beg your pardon...umm...Lady, I meant no offense."
Xan smiled and rose, bringing Fille with her. "No offense was taken, stranger. I have called Bree far worse things than small in my days idled here. You have ridden a long way under what I fear must have been a dark cloud, Child of the Mark. What may we call you, to welcome you to safety properly?"
The girl nodded, her fatigue beginning to show. "I have indeed ridden far with little rest...I am Cyndwin, daughter of...of noone..." Her face fell with a sudden memory and for a moment Xanderian thought she would cry, but with a force of will she gathered herself up and spoke on as if mimicking an older relation, "My family is of no matter for I have come here to seek my fortune, and that is all there is to it!"
Fille smiled and clapped her hands happily. "Well said Miss Cyndwin! We feel the same it seems about family, or the lack there of!"
The Elleth nodded and bowed to the newcomer. "My companion speaks truly, for family is often more curse then blessing. She is my dear Fillegedhiel, once of elsewhere and now of struggling Bree, an adventurer by temperament but a Blacksmith by trade which you would readily see by the ruin of her hands."
Cyndwin smiled and bowed..a heavy coat of mail clanking beneath her cloak. "Well met then, friend Fill...umm...gid hay...ummm?"
Fille laughed and hugged the girl. "Just call me Fille...it is easier and better suited to a friend."
Relieved the blonde girl hugged her back. "Fille it shall be then....And yet you have not introduced yourself, great Firstborn lady." Fille suppressed a laugh as she saw the Elleth's embarrassment. Introductions were always a chore for her in Bree.
The Huntress cleared her throat hesitantly. "I am no great lady, but a simple soldier. I am Xanderian of Belfalas, Herald before the Wrath of the West and Yeoman to the Company of the King, Silent Wardress of Orthanc, Nightwind of the Dunedain, Heartbreaker's Guide and Sworn Sword unto the Lady Arahen of the noble House of Orodreth...and I am at your service."
Cyndwin stared in wonder at both the fact she was speaking to an Elf and at the strange list of names and titles despite her claim to be but a soldier, and in the courtyard before the Prancing Pony she gave her prettiest curtsey. "And I, Cyndwin of the Westfold, am at yours....
The Present
Xanderian stood like an ancient statue in that same sunlit courtyard before the Pony, a black velvet dress hugging her boyish frame tightly. She had lost weight over the year since Cyndwin's strange disappearance and her black hair had lost a bit of luster. If she were not of the Sindar one would say she had aged a lifetime in but a year.
She had felt this moment coming. Ever since she heard Cyndwin's distant voice on the wind she had been preparing herself and now it was clearly at hand. She had felt it coming since dawn, as surely as if it were a summer storm over an arid plain. She had bathed three times since day break in her favorite spot on the river, and paced the length of her room until she could bear it no more.
She had now been standing here for hours...silently....waiting.
Finally, trudging up from the stables towards the Pony, the hilt of her greatsword clear over her the shoulder of her now properly fitted mail armor, came a weary Cyndwin, Shieldmaiden of the Westfold. As the top of the rise she stopped...almost surprised to see the Elleth awaiting her, but then...not surprised at all.
The two figures just stood, staring at one another through the busy courtyard, but to them, all was silent as no one else existed.
Slowly Cyndwin moved forward until she was standing directly in front of Xanderian. The Elleth tried to speak, and failing, began to weep. Cyndwin was stunned, but opened her arms and Xanderian fell into them, still weeping. "Rian....Rian..." the Shieldmaiden crooned to keep from crying herself.
The two stood there like that for an age, until Xanderian finally found a soft, weak voice. "Understanding how or why this happened is for another day, unlocking the secret will wait...I have torn the world and myself apart seeking you to no avail, and now my One, my Aza has finally come home. I heard your call from far-off Gladden and came to await you."
Cyndwin held the smaller woman tighter, and whispered into her hair. "I don't understand what happened either, my memories are but fragments of blue light...but I will always, always come home to you, my Elfbride. Our dooms are one!"
Some time later the two relaxed in the Chamber of Stars at the top of The House of Three Graces, lounging together as afternoon light streamed through the skylight. In the harsh light Cyndwin could clearly see the toll the last year has taken on Xanderian and felt a pang of guilt. Her always slim frame was noticeably thinner, her pale skin marred in many places by the soft pink lines of healing wounds, slowly fading bruises livid along one side from thigh to shoulder.
The Elleth noticed her concerned attention and shook her head. "Those marks are of no interest, they were my own fault. I had lost count."
Cyndwin raised an eyebrow. "Lost count? Of wounds?"
"No...of trolls. There were simply far too many of them." Xanderian shrugged, her slight shoulders resting against the sheets.
Cyndwin pushed the point. "If there were too many why did you not retreat?"
The Elleth looked away into the nearby brazier. "Because I did not care..."
The blond woman caught her breath and the silence stretched out between them...until finally she knew it was best to change the subject. She attempted to make her voice sound light. "So, what news while I slept dreamlessly who knows where?"
Xanderian looked back to the woman, noting the way her golden hair surrounding her shoulders like a cloak in the sunlight. "News? No news until I heard your call...then much news. I completed the business which Xandilif had stared to secure ownership of this Isle, fair Tol Lochul. Then I met a new friend called Addie who seeks to harass a party of 10 Angmarim along with her freebooter and another woman. I also met a woman who watches over the barrels in the Pony called Leonha who serves a local warlord called Andress."
Cyndwin just listened, smiling fondly and shaking her head...she had still not grown fully used to the way Xanderian saw the world.
"OH! I am a fool!" The Elleth smiled with excitement. "My urchin who you know as Hawke has at last consented to learn the ways of the road and to travel with us away from Bree where he has hidden all this time. And Fille is coming!"
Cyndwin stared..."Wait my love...all the rest is interesting and it will be good to get to know your friend Hawke better...but Fille? What of Fille!!!"
Xanderian smiled and reaching to her discarded gown came away with the note she had received, shoving it into Cyndwin's hands. "Fillegedhiel has written to me. She says her time with the Longbeards is over and she has regained her strength. She intends to return unto us, after the Yule snows have melted, and longs for our company. Fille is coming home!"
Cyndwin smiled and rose, her excitement overflowing as she reached for her robe. "Fille is coming home. Then I have returned just in time...there is much to do to prepare for Hawke's training and Fille's homecoming...and the adventures that will surely follow!
