2060 Late evening
As he settled down beside Orneth, a friendly smile crossed Raynamo's face. The gentle warmth of the sun danced across his features, highlighting the twinkle in his eyes. "How are you, Lady Orneth? I recall you once called this place a wasteland, but I find it to be rather beautiful. It's just a shame that someone as lovely as you is hiding away from civilization." Orneth couldn't help but smile at his words. "I like it here," she replied softly, "this is where my heart is. This is where my closest friends and family reside. The villagers and traders are friendly, and it's a diverse community. I learn so much from the Eldars who live here." "I remember you mentioning your daughter," Raynamo interjected. "I can only imagine how happy she was to see you when you returned from our last conversation." Orneth felt a wave of warmth from Raynamo's kind words. "She was overjoyed, truly. Her smile lit up the whole village, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment knowing that she was well taken care of." Raynamo nodded approvingly, "That's wonderful to hear. I assume her father was around to watch over her?" Orneth's expression softened. "She's quite fortunate, actually. She has both a godfather and a father by blood who love her equally. They may not be my husband, but they are my dear friends, and I couldn't ask for better companions."
His presence exuded a special warmth and radiance that she couldn't resist. "I shall soon leave, though," he said with a tinge of regret. "I couldn't help but come after accidentally catching sight of you." Another pang of loss filled Orneth's heart. Just when she thought a friendship was beginning to bloom, it was already time for him to depart. Yet he was a welcome respite from the heavy thoughts and complicated feelings she had been struggling with regarding Falchon.
"I actually have a small errand in the village. There's an inn by the pier—it’s usually quite peaceful there. Would you care to talk a bit more?" He looked at her quizzically, but then a smile slowly spread across his face. "It would be my pleasure to keep you company, Lady Orneth," he replied with a smile. "Is there a chance your friends will visit the inn? I would not want to intrude or stir up gossip." Orneth laughed, shaking her head. "Not at all."
As the sun began to set, Orneth emerged from her home and set out for the village. She had already informed Giril of her plans to meet an old friend, and although her curiosity was piqued, Giril refrained from asking too many questions. Instead, she kindly offered to take care of Falchiel, knowing that Orneth needed some time to herself. As Orneth made her way towards the village, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her. Demdor was out at sea, gathering his fishing nets, and Falchon was nowhere to be found, likely lost in the woods honing his sword skills or escaping from the burdens of the real world. It was a peaceful walk, with the only sounds being the rustling of the leaves and the occasional chirping of birds. Orneth found solace in the stillness and the beauty of nature, which seemed to come alive as the sun sank lower in the sky. As the sun descended into the horizon, Orneth made her way towards the quaint tavern known as 'Nyelnil'. The stunning sight of the sun's golden rays reflecting on the surface of the sea captured her attention, but she managed to pull herself away and arrived just in time. The tavern was different from the grandeur and extravagance of the elven realm, as it was rough and rustic, built with basic materials and minimal decoration. However, the lively atmosphere of the bustling inn was infectious, with elves of all genders mixing and laughing over drinks. The mellifluous melody of a lone flutist added to the warm and lively ambiance
Upon entering, Orneth nodded to a few familiar faces from the pier, and the tavern keeper, wearing a simple hauberk with braided hair, greeted her warmly. "Welcome, Lady Orneth, the kindred of Lord Naerchanar's family," he said. "I heard he has left Middle-Earth and travelled to the blessed realm Aman. It is sad and joyous news at the same time." Orneth smiled, acknowledging the keeper's words. "Indeed, he left with a few of my friends. We will all depart from this world someday," she replied thoughtfully. The keeper nodded in agreement, his smile never fading. "So, what may I serve you? We have some exquisite honey-wine from one of our yards, called Nénlissë. Which essentially means sweet water," he offered. Orneth's face lit up at the thought of tasting the delicious honey-wine. "I would love a bottle of that and two cups," she responded eagerly. The keeper bowed his head and accepted the coins she offered for the wine. "Excellent choice. Find a suitable table, and I'll bring it over to you," he said, beaming with hospitality.
She skillfully navigated through the busy crowd, her gaze scanning for a suitable table. At last, she spotted a small, secluded table tucked away at the very back of the tavern. It was perfect - Orneth preferred to observe rather than being in the center of attention. As she settled into her seat, the tavern keeper approached with a warm smile. "Ahh, the table of deep conversations. Enjoy the honey-wine," he said as he placed two silver cups and a bottle of the sweet Nénlissë on the table before departing.
As Orneth sat in the crowded room, she suddenly caught sight of him. Her face lit up with joy and she rose from her seat with excitement. He shed his cloak and looked around, appearing slightly nervous in the midst of such a large gathering. His eyes roved about until they settled upon Orneth. "Lady Orneth, it is a delight to see you again," he said, a smile spreading across his face. Orneth returned the gesture and poured him a glass of wine. "I am very glad to see you around. I am glad you had the time to come," she replied, basking in his presence. The candle flickered warmly, casting a soft glow on his countenance. Orneth let out a small sigh of contentment. "It is truly my pleasure, Orneth. I could not ask for better company this evening," he remarked, gazing at her with a fondness that set her heart racing.
"Did you see the sunset outside?" Orneth asked, her voice calm but her emotions carefully guarded. He nodded, his gaze growing distant, as if caught in a memory. "I did. It reminded me of the evening we last spent together. Do you remember the camp by the Tower Hills?" he said, a wistful note in his voice. Orneth's face brightened as the memory surfaced. "Of course I do. I felt so sad when I had to part ways with you," she confessed softly. He studied her with a curious expression. "Why did you feel sad?" he asked, his interest genuine. Orneth lowered her gaze to the table, pausing to find the right words. "You were so kind to me. I wasn’t prepared for it—it caught me off guard," she admitted, a faint blush warming her cheeks.
He took a sip of wine, his eyes widening in surprise. "This is quite strong—and sweet!" he exclaimed, his reaction drawing a laugh from Orneth. A smile lingered on her lips as he gently placed his hand over hers, concern flickering in his expression. "But tell me, Orneth, what truly troubles you? You mentioned something at the hill by the lighthouse… about having a complicated relationship with someone?" His voice was soft, patient, and filled with care. Orneth’s heart swelled with gratitude for his understanding. She hesitated for a moment before replying. "The father of my daughter," she began. "He’s been away in the army for so long that it’s created this distance—between him and me, between him and everything, really. But he does seem to grow more and more fond of our daughter, and I can’t deny how much I appreciate that." Her voice carried a bittersweet undertone, tinged with sadness.
He tilted his head slightly, his expression a mixture of sympathy and quiet admiration. "How could he ever distance himself from you? He seems like a fool to me," he remarked bluntly, catching Orneth off guard. She chuckled wryly, shaking her head. "He’s… not like others," she explained. "He carries a great deal of turmoil within him—like his mother, Manyamë."
Raynamo looked down, his brow furrowed, but Orneth caught the subtle twitch in his eyes, the faint glimmer of something unspoken that danced behind them. For the briefest moment, she could have sworn his eyes shifted—first a deep grey, then an electric blue, before settling back to grey. The strange sight left her both intrigued and unsettled. Breaking the silence, Orneth spoke again. "I apologize," she said softly, her tone tinged with guilt. "I shouldn’t burden you with my problems."
Raynamo lifted his gaze, and in that instant, his eyes were once again their usual, warm grey. "I did ask," he replied gently, his voice laced with understanding. "Why is he so troubled?" With a heavy sigh, Orneth began to speak of her daughter's father. She spoke of his difficult childhood, of the pain and neglect he had suffered at the hands of those who should have loved him, and of the deep scars that still haunted him to this day. "He thinks he is being chased," Orneth said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "He hides in the army, hoping to escape his demons. But they always seem to find him." Raynamo listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. When she was finished, he reached out and took her other hand in his own, his touch gentle and reassuring.
"I truly do not think he is avoiding you because his feelings are not mutual. I do think he avoids you because he does not want you to be a part of his dark past, and perhaps even his present.. also what he sees in the future" For a long moment, the two of them sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
Picture AI-generated from Microsoft Bing DALL·E
