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Athwen looked after Dorran, shaking her head a little at his shy way of going on. She smiled a small, faint smile and nudged her horse into a faster pace and once more pulled along Dorran. For a while, she rode in silence, thinking on what he had said to her.
Creide sounded nice. Grown up for her age, no doubt, but that was only in her favor, so long as she wasn’t too grown up. Athwen wondered slightly if she had lost her childhood dreams and feelings. She could not blame her for it if she had. Dorran was a nice brother, too. It was very kind of him to want to buy something for his sister. She smiled again at the thought. She could just imagine him looking at what there was to be bought with wide eyes of wonder. She had heard stories of Edoras from her older brother and sister, a couple years ago, when one of them had gotten to go with their father to the great city. But that was a long time ago, it seemed. Things might have changed now. They probably had, what with wars going on.
Athwen quickly turned her mind away from the thoughts that came with the word ‘war’. Dorran had asked her if she might go with him to pick something out. She had to admit to herself that she would probably be just as useless in a large market place as he. She knew how to buy vegetables and cloth from the small market that Skyfold had had, or to buy them off of traveling pedlars who passed every now and again. But in her mind’s eyes, Athwen was imagining Edoras to be thick with merchants, all selling numerous items, all as beautiful as the next, and she thought she’d never be able to make any choices quickly.
They had to make it to Edoras first, though. Ah, yes. To reach their journey’s end. Athwen sighed heavily and then thanked the noise of the horse’s hooves for not allowing Dorran to hear it. With so many wounded, would they be able to reach it in any short time? And the longer they were out in the open, the more chances they had of being attacked again. Would they ever be able to succeed? Yes, they must succeed. One of them must. To bring word to the king, to prevent more villages to meet the same end as hers, and to save the people. The only way to reach the city quickly was to progress quickly. . .
A thought entered her head which made Athwen smile more broadly than she had in days. She looked at Dorran and then brought Parith closer to his horse’s side.
‘I’ll bet you anything I can beat you in a race,’ she said, breaking the silence between them abruptly. She stood up in the stirrups to stand above the saddle so that she could talk clearly and steadily as she looked at Dorran. She posed quite a mischievous picture just then, an impish smile on her face, her hair loose and fluttering behind her on the wind of Parith’s speed, and her eyes glittering with the thought of another, faster run than earlier. ‘Of course, your horse is carrying more than mine. Can’t we stop and even it out a bit? It won’t take long, and the gallop will make up for it. Please?’
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