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Old 06-24-2011, 06:26 PM   #73
Mithalwen
Pilgrim Soul
 
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Join Date: May 2004
Location: watching the wonga-wonga birds circle...
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Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Mithalwen is lost in the dark paths of Moria.
Perhaps he should have said nothing. Erling Woodseaves was not particularly swift to anger, His wife was far more quick tempered and had passed the trait, in some measure, to all their children save Bryn, who was was harder to rouse even than his father. However even the most placid of men have their limits and Erling had got too close to his.

If his sons were his pride, his daughter was his joy. Sukey had craved a girl but he had been content with his fine boys. Jessamy had been born so long after her brothers that the hope had been all but deferred to the next generation. Erling had had to learn late how to raise a maid-child. Maybe he had not learnt well, having been enchanted. Perhaps he had spoiled her but it had seemed to do no harm. He had thought there was mischief but no malice in the child. And the sprite- a funny little creature all limbs and hair - made him laugh and so charmed him that when she raised her blue eyes to meet his own and said "Sorry Daddy" all was forgiven and forgotten - too quickly perhaps.

He had sent Filbert back to the farm - it would be some comfort to Sukebind to have one of her chicks safe in the the nest. For himself he couldn't face going home while the rest of his children were out on the Downs and in this snow too. He wasn't so worried about the boys - they were grown and well equipped and above all, together. And they had horses with them and beasts, Erling felt, had more sense to get out of danger and find their way home than most men. But Jessamy was a different matter - she was so young and alone (or at best in the company of the boy Edwin which was small comfort). He didn't blame the lad - from what he had learned from his youngest son, Jessamy had gone on this escapade more than willingly and her participation was premeditated. He was a little shocked by her deceit. But that was an issue to be tackled when they got her back. If they got her back.

The thought they might not was unbearable. It had occured to him at Silas' wedding that a time would surely come when he must hand his daughter over into another man's keeping and the mere idea caused a wrench years before it could become reality. But that was no loss at all to the one he now faced. He touched neither the food nor the ale offered him and despite the long day following the plough he could not keep to his seat either, pacing the room pausing only to gaze through the windows desperate for a sign of his children's return. The sight of Edwin's father was sitting in his usual spot, drinking as much as usual infuriated Erling. Yes the cobbler had lost his wife. It was a tragedy but not an unique one - Erling had lost everyone and everything but the clothes he stood up in when he arrived in Bree. Tate had drowned his sadness in his beer mug and maybe it was no wonder his boy had gone a wandering. Little enough for him at home, Erling guessed and then wondered at his own child's reasons. Eventually he could take no more of the man sitting morosely in his cups.

"How can you just sit there and drink when they are out there? " his voice was harsher than usual. As tall and lean as his elder sons still, he towered over the seated figure. Erling's hair which had once been as bright as his daughter's was now mostly grey and he was a good decade - maybe even two- older than Tate but he cut a more imposing figure at that moment.

"My boys are out there looking for yours - and my little girl - and all you can do is swill ale!". Erling slammed his fist onto the table in frustration. He was not inclined to violence but he was sore tempted to shake the man if not smite him.

Last edited by Mithalwen; 07-13-2011 at 03:32 AM.
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