Morwyn dashed the tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand and followed Annalaliath to the washbasin. "Of course I'll tell you what's wrong," she said, with a wry smile. "But we must be brief, for I was terribly rude to that man downstairs." Annalaliath nodded, unsure of whether this was a cover on Morwyn's part, or if she was truly concerned about the stranger they'd met in the common room.
"My husband, Alric, died in the spring of last year." Morwyn said in a level tone. "I've just recieved a letter from his brother Osric and his wife. They are lonely and work hard to carry on Alric's farm and good name. I've just realized how selfish I am in running away from them and all my responsibilities." The woman paused for breath in her rapid narration. She was afraid if she slowed or gave more detail that she wouldn't be able to continue. "You see, I left very soon after Alric's funeral. I left Osric with all the expenses, all the memories, and even deprived them of my company." She bit her lip. "I cannot stay here much longer, I'm afraid, I must get back to them." She let out a long sigh, and Annalaliath hugged her friend close. "Thank you." Morwyn whispered.
As Annalaliath relinquished her hold on Morwyn the woman headed on wobbly legs back toward the doorway. Nahai was standing bemusedly in the entrance, twirling a strand of her reddish hair around one finger. Morwyn slipped an arm around the Beorning's shoulders and together the three headed back down the stairs toward the common room.
When they reached the table they'd so recently abandoned they found the travel-worn elf turning Morwyn's flute absently in his fingers.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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