[Nerindel]

Æöelhild stood watching the rain run down the fogged pane of her window, her room was warmed by a fire that crackled brightly in the small hearth set into the right wall. She liked her room, although smaller than she had once been used to, she found it cosy enough and more comfortable than the cold stone or rough earth of the past years flight. From the window she could see the mead halls courtyard with the stables to the right and too the left the newly constructed canvas covering that was to be the temporary mead hall.

As she looked down on the stables she thought of the week gone by and of her new found friendship with the new Stable Master, Lëof. she admired his resolve and determination to earn a living enough for both himself and his sister that they could finally move out of the shadow of their abusive father, it also gave her some hope that she too could begin anew.

‘set aside the ghosts of the past’ she quietly told herself.

It had almost been a relief to share some of what she had kept to herself for so long. That night in the stable beneath the clear starlight sky she had told Lëof about her Uncle, how he had come into her life directly following the death of her father and grandfather and taken away everything that was familiar to her, including her favourite horse a chestnut mare that she had loved so dearly, ‘We were practically raise together’ she had told him. She did not speak of her position in Gondorian society nor of the events of the night that had forced her to flee from the lands that she had always called home, but she did confide in him the abuse she had endured at the hands of her uncle. How he had locked her away from the world she had known and loved telling those that sought after her health and well being that she was sick, practically mad with grief, refusing to see or speak with anyone. He had stolen her freedom and practically made her his slave and like a slave if she did not perform to his satisfaction she was harshly beaten. Lëof had listened intently and when she had suddenly stopped not wishing to go on he had not pressed her but simply placed a comforting hand and nodded his understanding.

On the days that had followed, when she was not busy with her own chores or helping Frodide’s and Kara in the kitchen’s she would be found helping Leof in the stables, they had grown comfortable with each other and oft laughed and joked in a light and easy manner that surprised a few of the others, who until recently had only seen a quiet, introvert young girl who only on the very rare occasion allowed herself to relax enough to join in the frivolity of the hall. Her laughter was light, her smile warmly infectious that it gave her young face a more womanly glow when seen.

Of the others she had seen little except at meal times, Eodwine, Thornden, Gárwine and even Falco busied themselves in the effort to change the old common room of the white horse into a new mead hall fit for the Lord of Mid-Emnet and although she took instruction from Searyn regarding the chores that required the days attention, the young woman who was now the halls hostess spent much of her time with Linduail, the Gondorian noble woman and cousin to the Queen of this land if rumours were to be believed. This news made Æöel slightly uncomfortable in the young woman’s presence and although she was sure that they had never before met, especially with her being from Belfalas and she from Minas Tirth, there was still that niggling worry that some rumour or scandal of her sudden departure might have reached the ears of the young noble woman. So she was careful to be unobtrusive but polite in the young woman’s presence hoping to go unnoticed as just another serving girl. But Linduail’s Guardian or her fathers Steward as it had turned out, she could not avoid, three times a day as instructed by the healer she brought him the herbal infusion that would help him regain his strength. When awake he had always thanked her politely and she responded in kind, waiting only long enough to take back the empty cup. However of late he would find reasons to delay her, little things like asking her to pass a particular book from his dresser or pouring water from the pitcher next to his bed and always he would frown thoughtfully as though something she had done had puzzled him.

She looked away from the window then and turned to return to a seat set next to the fire, beside the chair was a small spindly looking table upon which sat a dusty old pouch and a few coin’s, her pay for the previous weeks work. She had not expected much as living under the halls roof seemed payment enough but Lord Eodwine had been generous and agreed to pay her coin as well as board. She looked from the small pile of coins to the sword that sat propped against the wall, the firelight gleaming off its polished surface showing clearly the dark line of damage across the flat of the blade. She frowned recalling how it had become so.

It had been several months back when both day and night had been filled with cold rains and harsh winds, she had thought to seek the shelter in the mountains, but Ered Nimrais (the white mountains) was not to be traversed easily and she soon became lost. She wandered aimlessly through the mountains for several months before finally finding her way out into the Eastfold where she was waylaid by bandits who sought to separate her from her fathers sword and what little coin she had left. But she would not relinquish the weapon and had been forced to defend herself. Being the granddaughter of a weapons master/smith she had been taught how to handle a sword, (though this was never made common knowledge). But the sword she wielded had been crafted for her fathers hand and not hers so it was heavy and cumbersome and took several heavy blows to the rocky ground causing the fracture in the metal. As it happened it was not the sword that saved her it was the rains of those past months, they had made the earth slippery and treacherous and as the bandits less light footed than her gave chase one of them lost their footing and careered into the other, allowing her to make her escape, but again she was lost she did not know these land and it was several weeks before she finally arrived at Edoras, half starved and penniless.

She looked again from the sword to the coins and resolved to save what she earned until she had enough to paid for the repair, It was more than a weapon to her, crafted by her grandfather and wielded by her father it was the only link she had left. Just watching the firelight dance of its polished surface or rubbing the oil rag across its flat brought a strange but alluring comfort to her. Gathering up the coins she placed them into the pouch and slipped them under her mattress for safe keeping. The sword she re-sheathed and propped carefully against the end of her cot.

Then dousing the flames of her fire, she quickly fixed her hair and adjusted her skirts before heading down to see if there was anything else needing done, There hadn’t been much to do all morning and Æöel was feeling slightly restless… perhaps I will see if Leof needs a hand she mused thoughtfully.

She quietly passed into the kitchen, where she was surprised to see so many people. Frodides stern faced stood wagging a wooden spoon inches from Thorndens nose telling him absolutely that they could not use her kitchens as a common room, Master Falco was helping himself to some bread and cheese, while at the table Master Marenil sat next to Kara silently peeling potatoes. Seeing her stunned expression he mouthed that he was feeling much better.

“What is going on?” she whispered taking a seat beside them, “Why is everyone in here?”