The Glen

[Dream Loxley]

She did not interrupt but listened intently to Gerrad as he told his tale.......all the while he watched her, but she found often that her eyes would leave his, she could not hold his gaze, but allowed her imagination to create a picture of her Robin and his men....the surroundings, the situation. She nodded in understanding as he spoke further.

Robin had told her he was to seek help, such would not be an easy task for him...proud and stubborn, it was not often he would have to ask for aid, and yet he was not too proud when he knew the time had come, and the people of Windstorm were in need. She had smiled a little when his image came to her.......but soon her features had become more etched with worry and concern, for it was obvious Gerrad had more to tell, and with his men coming home with such atrocious injuries, the outcome would not bode well, she was sure.

The tea she had given him was surely cold by now......but she felt she could not leave him just now to fetch more.......her heart went out to him, she felt his pain and suffering, and such of the other men.......and her Robin....just where was he and how had he escaped the battle that must have ensued.

The turmoil within her was fast becoming too much to carry.......had she been too quick with her assumptions.........with Letha......with the kind and faithfull man sitting before her...........she closed her eyes for a few moments, holding her shawl tighter about her shoulders and breathed in deeply.......willing Gerrad to continue........

[Halethala]

She’d paused before leaving the Loxely’s quarters, thinking perhaps by now her brother could use a refilling of the tea Lady Dream had brought him, and fetched up a nice large mug of it. She returned, padding as quietly as possible along the clever walkways, straining an ear to hear whether Gerrad had yet finished his telling . . but no, the soft rise and fall of the conversational flow between them still continued, the sounds carrying easily on the still night air. She’d not intended to intrude, yet the few words that she caught even at a distance soon found her swept up in the unfolding tale.

Standing apace of the threshold, she watched the strain crease his features as he waded through the memories. She could see it was costing him dearly to retrace the events that had led to the carnage that lay on the forest floor beneath them . . healing, yes, or at least for the most part . . could sense his fears that the Lady Dream would take it upon herself to seek out her husband, endangering perhaps both of them . . How it must have eaten at not only their physical beings to be on their guard for days upon days, but their spirits as well . .

Forgetting herself entirely as he paused, his eyes fixed so completely on Lady Loxely, she edged into the room again and settled down on the bedding beside him, mutely handing over the steaming mug . . unprepared for the eyes that turned to her and hands that covered not only the handle of the mug, but also encircled her own . . Letha swallowed hard, realizing that something had shifted between them, thoroughly perplexed and bewildered at what could not be easily ignored . . though wishing more than anything at the moment that he continue his explanations . . nodding as calmly as she could manage, “And so the King’s promise proved true, Gerrad?”

[Gerrad]

Gerrad paused and looked at Lady Loxley as she wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders… He decided then that he would spare her the details of the battle and reassure her again that Her husband was alive and well…

As he was about to continue when he felt Halethala enter the room and sit beside him again… He turned and looked at her, his deep blue eyes holding hers fast within his gaze. He instinctively reached for the mug she was carrying but his hands enveloped not only the mug but the soft hands of the ones offering it to him. He let his eyes drop momentarily to the mug and the gentle hands holding it, and as his hands enveloped hers he wondered at their smooth softness. As he raised his eyes again to Halethala’s …he knew that at least he, had crossed the line from brother to something different and he tried hard not to show it…..Finally he replied to her question….

“No Halethala, as it turns out the Kings promise was not true at all”

He released her hands and raised the mug to his lips….closing his eyes as he did so, then looked back to the Lady Loxley and continued his story.

“The next morning we broke camp and were about to leave when a rider came and beckoned Robin and the Rangers with steeds to come to the Castle…some sort of treat for the horses to aid their journey the rider said. M’Lord Robin refused at first but the rider insisted that the King would be insulted if we did nae accept such a generous gift and that it would be poor form amongst old friends. So after acknowledging that we would, Robin sent the rest of the men onwards with the 500 men gifted to us…. With instruction to Ranger Little to march in good formation and to be ready to draw bows at an instant.

We were held up by the king for most of the early morning and M’Lord Robin was getting more agitated by ther minute and when we finally left the stables of the King, he had us ride a full gallop to catch up with the others. As we came up to the others at mid day, the Rangers were traversing a gully. They were almost at the bottom of the gully when I noticed the Kings contingent were on higher ground and along their flank. I motioned to Robin and pointed to show him the maneuver but he had already seen it, and the heavy Horsemen to the other flank that I hadn’t yet noticed….

Ranger Little had seen it too for even as we rode hard towards them, he halted the men and formed a square….two rows deep each side….”

Gerrad stopped and looked at Lady Loxley and Halethala ….his eyes now sad with the loss of life on both sides and muttered some almost inaudible words about Robins eyes, blowing horns, some of the enemy dropping their weapons and running, and paid mercenaries that tried to hunt them down and of good village and forest yeomen that came to the injured Rangers aid.

He was spent, and again in pain but hid it well from his audience.

“Lady Loxley….M’Lord Robin is with people that are at one with him, they will never let anything happen to him … as sure as night comes after each day… he will return soon and I believe that there will be many more coming with him than left Windstorm with him…. Ye have me word on it”

He looked at Lady Loxley ….. and saw that she knew the truth of his words and then reached deep into a pocket and pulled out the second of the scrolls he had been carrying for so long, having given Ranger Todd the first some time ago.

He handed it to her, without telling her that the seal was broken because he had read it before almost destroying the scroll after nearly being captured. He had not wanted any enemy of Lord Robin’s to know of the Lady Dream nor his family whereabouts so was prepared to commit to memory the words within.

“This is for you to read when ye get back to yer Castle M’Lady. Ye need to leave here now and go back to the Castle with Halethala, you have been more than patient and fair with your time and caring.

I’ll organize an escort and if yer don’t mind I’ll send the worst wounded back on the morrow for care at the Castle. But mind ye nae tell any of what has really happened, for it may encourage our enemies to try something foolish.”

He then turned to Halethala and placed an arm over her shoulder and said in an even voice whilst looking deep into her eyes and soul.

“Thank ye Halethala for looking after me and me men so well…”

He looked at the letter in Dreams hand.

“What M’Lord Robin says to M’lady Dream in that scroll … well …i… anyways yers had better get along now”

He rose stiffly and walked out to the walkway amongst the trees and whistled loudly … a Horse and cart for the ladies lads and a dozen escort…

Gerrad went back into his room after the Ladies had left….. and sat down for a bit…..contemplating the simple words that he had read over and over again in the scroll whilst coming home to deliver it.

*Have Faith…….. Ahh Love Ye*

Pulling on his Leathers he made his way down to firm ground and had a horse readied and after checking on the men, especially ranger Little……..he headed the horse back along the way he had come from……..each mile traveled another emotion left him until all that he was focused on was getting back to Lord Robin and helping his men.

[Dream Loxley]

((What a fabulous post, the whole thread has been superb and it has been both an honour and privilege to be part of what will, I am sure continue in other threads for a long while yet. Going back in time just a little shall enable me to reply and see both ladies safely back within the walls of Windstorm Castle.))

Dream felt her mouth try to open several times, both to speak and in awe of what Gerrad was telling her. She clasped her hands together as she listened, her hear thumping within her breast, each beat ringing in her ears as fear and emotions found their place, even if he was safe, what had he endured, what had they all endured......in the name of peace and trusting. It was so difficult to comprehend how another could betray......could use their honesty, their faith in one another. Sigh after sigh left her lips, nodding to him in silence, she felt Gerrad's pain and anguish, simply shaking her head in disbelief.

When he mentioned them returning home, she had almost spoken, her heart was here within the glen, where her beloved spent so much of his time......how could she leave. Her children, the answer was simple.....Ellissia and Thomas, they missed her, she missed them and it was her duty as a Mother to be with them, even though part of her would always stay here in the forest. She had nodded again, understanding completely his motives and not questioning them at all.

She could see how tired Gerrad was as he handed her a scroll.......'read it when ye get back' he had told her.....how she wanted to unfurl it and savour the contents, she saw the seal was broken but once again did not question why. Her trust in Gerrad was almost as much as her Robin's trust in the man who was still fighting his own demons as he looked upon Halathala. The woman he had taken on as a Sister when she was in need of a true friend and aid, now had to deal with the consequences of seeing her as more than a Sister. Dream did not envy them at all, she knew only too well how difficult and tormenting love could be.

How she stood from the stool without wavering, she did not know, but she found the strength somehow to reach out to Gerrad and squeeze his arm. It would break her heart to leave him, as it would Letha's she was sure, but he would do that which he needed to and it was their duty now to follow his orders. She thanked him and held his arm slightly more then was needed, willing him to be safe and to return soon with her Robin. Just to take care of him, of both of them.....was all she wished for now, more than anything, it would take every part of her being not to stay.

The ladies made ready their belongings and Dream was helped up to her mount, Biscuit had been well cared for and was more than ready for the ride homewards. Without looking at the well worn scroll, she tucked it inside her jacket and pulled her cloak tighter as Letha prepared to leave. With a heavy heart she took one last look around the glen and allowed Biscuit to take them gently along the track that would lead them through familiar and unfamiliar places, how the men ever found their way back to the Glen she would never know for she was lost almost the instant the small group had moved off.

It was nightfall by the time they were back within the Castle, lights flickered from the wall sconces and welcomed them home......Guards quick to aid them and see them safely to their rooms......it was then that Dream finally took the scroll and held it tightly within her hands. Slowly she allowed the parchment to unfurl, waiting until words and letters appeared, expecting far more than she saw. Just one short sentence, five precious words stared back at her......her eyes misting over, quickly filling with tears, she could not read them again as she began to cry. She whispered as she cried "And I love ye my Robin" . Nodding in agreement as if he were standing before her. Gradually her shoulders slumped over and she sat heavily upon the bed, curling her form around the parchment already wet from her tears. She sobbed deeply, her emotions getting the better of her........until exhaustion and worry took her to find peace within her sleep. There she found him and laid within his arms.......there she would know his words were true.

[Halethala]

A very large part of her surged up with the unreasonable wish to capture those warm, stalwart hands between her own as he spoke . . to attempt, in so doing, to bear some portion of the obvious pain that enveloped him . . both of heart and body. There was a sadness that settled over her, like a fresh blanket of snow that muted all the world, kindled by the look in his eyes . . a look that most women would willingly welcome, and all the more from such a man as he. She shook her head inwardly . . No . . she was surely mistaken. She had to be. She did not wish this into being . . she needed him as friend . . brother . . confidant . .

It took little effort to become thoroughly lost in his telling . . trying vividly to imagine the scenes he painted with his descriptions. Embellishing, as was her wont, the spaces he left unsketched . . purposely, she guessed. Her head wagged from side to side as he spoke of the King’s tretchery. Surely justice would not allow such a man to go unpunished! But then . . many such men had before . . many more would in times to come. She felt an almost strangling sense of frustration rise inside her . . but quelled it by swallowing back her passions as one might sit upon an overstuffed trunk to latch it shut . .

**“Thank ye Halethala for looking after me and me men so well…”** He was bidding them farewell . . and that was all he said to her?? She had a hard time meeting his eyes . . wishing for all the world to sweep him into a tight embrace . . realizing she no longer trusted herself to do so with a pure heart . .

She looked at Lady Dream’s scroll with a mixture of sympathy, envy . . and more unreasonable still, anger. Not at her friend’s husband, but at a nameless, faceless . . aye, even heartless essence that ruled their destinies . . keeping apart those who should not have to bear parting . . She knew her thoughts were driven by weariness and worry . . and they were not the kind of thoughts becoming a lady, so she choked them to silence.

**“What M’Lord Robin says to M’lady Dream in that scroll … well …i… anyways yers had better get along now”** She’d stood mutely for several long moments as she watched him call for their escort . . roiling inside, deeply inside, deeper than she wished to delve . . before turning stiffly to begin her descent. Turning one last time, she watched Lady Loxley grip his arm, and quietly speak her heart to him. At a safe distance, Letha added her own wish as well, pouring a gallon of love into a teacup of scant words . . “Be safe, dear . . dear Brother . .”

She hardly remembered a thing about the return journey, and the ladies exchanged nary a word, each shrouded in their own dim thoughts. Letha sat with exaggerated erectness on her Vardian, each jostled step seeming to shake down her emotions as if packing flour into a measuring cup. Numb, she wished to be numb and not feel anything for a time . . to give the weight of what she’d seen and heard and felt these past days to someone stronger than herself. To lean upon another who would not snap beneath the burden of it all . .

Their arrival was not heralded with fanfare, being so late in the day. She followed along as if to stay in the castle as well, but emerged immediately only to leave once more. She had to go home. Home to the cottage. Home to her husband. Hesitant guards were not happy with her adamant determination, though at least reasoned with her to accompany her there. She was not thinking clearly, but at least clearly enough to know there were dangers about the realms she dared not flaunt.
No cheery light greeted her as they neared, no fire kindled in the hearth, not a stick of wood molested on the pile. Not a thing seemed disturbed since she’d left, save the scrabblings of the tiny mice that had delighted in the feast of molding bread she’d left out on a cutting board in her haste to depart. She’d acquiesced to the guard’s insistence on starting a goodly fire in the fireplace before leaving her, though not without reservations. She’d insisted Sinold would surely be back soon. She’d be safe enough . .

As she leaned against the door after bidding the good man godspeed, the exhaustion and chill swept over her like the light that was growing in the little house. If ever she needed the warm loving arms of her own husband . . it was now. She reached to pour a measure of mead from the blue crockery jug, catching a whiff of telltale sourness as she did so. It had spoiled. She set it back down with deliberate care, her eyes roaming across the room, though not really seeing what was before her . . not until they lit upon the ravaged bread. Something finally snapped inside her, and with fury she grabbed up the crumbling chunks, flinging handful after handful in the general direction of the fire . . the rhythm of the accented words pierced through with rasping sobs, as if pointedly aimed at . . something . . someone

“Ye give . . and ye take again . . . . our peace . . our King . . our friends . . my Sinold . .

my . . my brother . . .” Exhausting her ammunition, she wrapped her hand around the rancid mead, reaching back to aim it with anticipation of the satisfying crash that would result . . a flash of sanity finally returning to stay her movements mid-swing and causing the contents to slosh onto her skirts . .

She slumped to the stone floor before the cheery fire, and began to laugh . . . mingling the hiccupping titters with her wet tears . . spent and aching. The frightened mice watched the incomprehensible human from the shadows as she curled herself around the jug to fall into a dreamless sleep.

[Halethala]

The morning sun pierced a tiny square through the cabin’s window, probing deliberately across the floor until it brushed across Letha’s cheek, waking her with gentle brilliance, sweeping the former night’s madness and gloom from her spirits. Stiffly, she stirred, sending the foraging mice scurrying back to the corners. Her cloak hadn’t given either much cushion or warmth, but she felt measurably better for the resting. Eyeing the fire, she decided not to prod it to life again, and untangled herself to rise. Retrieving a fresh change of clothes, her nose wrankled at the fetid smells she exuded, she paused at the threshold and went back to fetch a small wooden box. She also bent over a scrap of parchment, and left a brief note for Sinold. Just in case . .

“Dearest . . We are back. Come find me in the castle. I miss you very much. Love, Your Letha”

The steaming mists of the Hot Springs seemed to further cleanse the knotted frustrations from her as she sank into the welcome waters, dozing several times in the comforting embrace of the refreshing bath before reluctantly dressing. Unlike her body, she would not allow her thoughts to become submerged too far below the surface. With each layer she put on, she began to tick off from a mental list that began to form . . .

She would write to him, let him know they were back and safe, and that Lord Loxley’s children were well. She would remain cheerful in her writing, encouraging . . carefully so.

“Dearest Brother,

Our journey back was without hazard, I’m sure in great part to our excellent escort. Of course our hearts, in so many ways, have not left those of you to whom we bid our farewells. Their faces will adorn our fondest thoughts, with wishes that we could have done more for them.

The Yule approaches, though your circumstances may not allow for any special markings of the season this year. I would wish for peace, especially now, to reign over the hearts of all. Most especially those who seem bent on your harm. And I wish above all that you could each be with us to share at our tables.

Until such a time, I wished to send this small gift. Promise you will not set aside your own needs always in the face of so many that depend upon you.

The stars, and your own great heart, guide you well, Gerrad.

Your Loving Sister,
Halethala”

Four times she shredded her attempts, still not entirely happy with what she held. She curled the parchment into a leather pouch, and carefully slipped the gift in after it, hoping he would not find the small charm, an intricate, tightly compressed tangle of silver wire that held captive several clear, colorless crystals, too effeminate. She paused then, unrolling the scroll once again to add.

“P.S. May the gift be reminder that even in the most inexplicable of circumstances, there is continuity . . . and the pure sparkle of hope.”

Pulling the cloak’s hood over still dampened hair, she set out for the castle and found a willing courier. Pressing twice the usual payment into the grateful man’s palms, she stood watching his retreating back for a time before drawing a very deep breath.

She was determined to keep the darknesses within at bay, finding simple joys in the mundane. The days drifted by pleasantly enough, catching up on tasks unfinished. Very often her thoughts would wander back to the things Gerrad had spoken to them, perhaps more often that she should. **“What M’Lord Robin says to M’lady Dream in that scroll … well …i… ”** Would it be right to ask her friend exactly what her husband had said in the scroll? Surely not . .

Yet at last her curiosity overrode her good manners . . . and there was, afterall, good reason to visit her friend ~ the Yule preparations. And so she found herself in the Loxley’s quarters, sincerely glad to be near her again. At a small lull in the ease of their conversational flow, Letha screwed up her courage to form the words she’d rehearsed with extra care, “I wondered, dear Dream . . the scroll, from your beloved’s hand . . it seemed to have been unsealed, and not unread before being delivered to you. Gerrad said . . . . well . . .”

So much for rehearsing. She stumbled over her words, a flush of color creeping unbidden into her cheeks and look of apology clearly on her face for having asked . .

[Dream Loxley]

“I wondered, dear Dream . . the scroll, from your beloved’s hand . . it seemed to have been unsealed, and not unread before being delivered to you. Gerrad said . . . . well . . .”


Letha's words suprised her, and yet......... Dream stood from the chair she had been sitting in whilst speaking of the coming festivities with her friend. She did not hesitate as she lifted the lid of one of two large oak chests that were placed along the wall of her chambers. Taking the latest scroll from its resting place, she closed the lid and let her hands stroke the parchment as she turned towards Halethala. The question asked was one she had already pondered long and hard......the seal had been broken, but only Gerrad had been privvy to what was written by her beloveds hand. One day perhaps she would ask such of him, for there surely must be a genuine and goodly reason if he did indeed break the Loxley seal and read the contents. Brushing those thoughts from her mind she moved to where Letha sat and offered her the scroll, speaking gently as she did so.

"To have opened this, yer Brother..........Gerrad..........he must have had goodly reason to do such........the words be few and yet simple and true in their meaning from my Robin's heart to mine own. Have faith. I love ye."

Dream sat down again and watched the face of this woman who she trusted dearly, one who shared so much with her of late, since they were so often alone. She recalled what Gerrad had spoken quietly before she had left his room.......his words directed to his Sister who he had obviously lost his heart to. Dream swallowed and wondered again of the consequences.......what the future held for them all.

[Gerrad]

Gerrad had ridden hard and fast, in both a bid to get back to Lord Robin to aid Him …but also to leave behind a feeling of love and hopelessness that had not plagued him for a life time it seemed….

He stopped and after scouting an area, he hunted, caught and skinned a rabbit, then lit a small fire and placed it over the fire on a green stick. Whilst sitting with his back to the way he had come, an odd feeling came over him and breaking with the “Ranger” tradition… he stood and turned …looking back from where he had come….

The cold air hit his face….. as did a sadness that he could not determine along with tears and anguish……. He recoiled slightly as he took the feelings in, imagined or not they were real to him as he stood there……

He put a hand up to the air as if testing it…. And instantly thought of Lady Loxley ….. Bringing his hand back towards him and placing it over his heart… tapping twice then raising it again as he knew Lord Robin would do, he sent his reassurance to her as best his heart could …but would she know …. he wondered….

He turned his thoughts to the tears and anguish……. And his heart knew it was his sister…so angered ….. so anguished … it was all his doing he thought quietly to himself…. If only he had ..if only he could … if only he had the courage to tell her that he thought she was more than a sister to him … *he sighed* if only she had given some indication that she felt the same way………. But maybe she had *he thought*… maybe he had missed something..maybe… maybe ….

It was sometime after eating his meal that the rider came…..alert once more……. he swiftly reached for his bow and notched an arrow……. Then relinquished it when seeing it was a rider from Windstorm
*had he squandered that much time he wondered*

The Rider handed him a parchment and stood mutely by as he opened and read it…

As he open it and discovered it was from Halethala and he devoured the words instantly…

“Dearest Brother,

Our journey back was without hazard, I’m sure in great part to our excellent escort. Of course our hearts, in so many ways, have not left those of you to whom we bid our farewells. Their faces will adorn our fondest thoughts, with wishes that we could have done more for them.

The Yule approaches, though your circumstances may not allow for any special markings of the season this year. I would wish for peace, especially now, to reign over the hearts of all. Most especially those who seem bent on your harm. And I wish above all that you could each be with us to share at our tables.

Until such a time, I wished to send this small gift. Promise you will not set aside your own needs always in the face of so many that depend upon you.

The stars, and your own great heart, guide you well, Gerrad.

Your Loving Sister,
Halethala”

He looked further down the page and saw the PS:

“P.S. May the gift be reminder that even in the most inexplicable of circumstances, there is continuity . . . and the pure sparkle of hope.”

He caught the small charm within his hand as it slipped from the parchment, a small intricate, tightly compressed tangle of silver wire that held several clear, colourless crystals……

He smiled….. and then turned his back on the messenger lest he see that his eyes were clouded and watering somewhat………He cursed the fire and its smoke then turned back to the messenger….

“Tell M’ Lady Halethala that I too would wish for peace and that I wish also that I could be with her to share at her table.”

He stopped and thought before continuing…taking in her words…

“Promise you will not set aside your own needs always in the face of so many that depend upon you” she had said….

He then looked at the messenger

“Tell her that I can not hold such a promise but I hold her gift close to my heart and I hold close the spark of hope”

The messenger left and Gerrad sat and thought……he read the missive again and again……there was no more to read……..no defined words of ... just a sisters letter to a brother mayhaps…. Nothing……he wondered if he had imagined the time at the glen….was it all a cruel hallucination…did she feel it too or was it just he that wandered a dangerous path…..

[Dream Loxley]

The day had been spent in the company of friends, the children taking such delight in decorating the tree, which she knew had been brought in by Repsol and his men. He deserved a special thankyou for taking the time to do her bidding and she made a conscious decision then to send him a personal note of thanks when the festivities allowed her some quiet time. The people of Windstorm and the surrounding villages had gathered in the great Hall to give thanks to their Queen and all about seemed filled with the spirit of joy and peace, Dream knew differently but did not speak of such with so many ears to listen, instead she kept those thoughts to herself until such times the Queen would need to know. When her beloved returned all would be revealed and those in need would be reassured that all would be well again.

All was quiet now in her chambers, the children sleeping peacefully in the adjoining room, she found herself stoking the fire and carefully lighting a taper. Cupping her hands around it she moved slowly towards the window that so often kept her company. The single candle that had burned there for what seemed an eternity was coming to an end, it was time to replenish it with a new one. This she did with gentle hands, as if the candle were a devoted friend, perhaps it was such, always lighting the way, waiting patiently and listening to her words. How many times had she asked advice from it, spoken her feelings and fears to it, never receiving indications in return, and yet it was such a comfort, always a comfort.

Once the new candle was set into the holder safely, burning well, she turned away and blew out the taper. The room was so empty without him, their bed so cold and uninviting, she could not remember the last time she had slept within it, for most nights would find her settling within the large chair beside the hearth, wrapped in furs and quilts. Only when the children had been unable to sleep did they all rest easier within the large bed, those nights spent comforting them after fretful nightmares had stolen away their peaceful slumbers. She let her eyes slowly wander around the room and sighed softly before returning her gaze to the window and beyond, far beyond.

The weather had been colder and a frost was falling over the lands, she looked out towards the village, so many lights adorned windows, the people within the homes gathering together for the night of Christmas Eve. She smiled softly to imagine the children, all the children everywhere would be excited and filled with wonder at what the new day would bring when they did awaken. Such thoughts gave her comfort as she watched through the window, sparkling trees, mist covered fields, the moon was full and gave feeling of magic about the lands. In an instant she took in a deep breath, her emotions suddenly enveloping her, giving way to moist eyes that fought back tears. Tears of both joy and sorrow as she thought of him, where ever he was, he was safe Gerrad had told her, with like minded folks who cared. Her fingers reached up to the locket that always hung around her neck, the locket that held one half of a silver arrowhead, whilst her beloved carried the other half.

Thoughts of Gerrad returned to her, she could not stop thinking of the man, and how his troubled heart would find peace again. Halethala had not spoken to her of whatever there was between them both, but soon she would, such feelings would be too strong to stay kept within her friends heart, she was sure, for they would overwhelm and engulf Halethala, such would not be a goodly thing to do. Dream would not allow either of them to carry the burden alone, this was another conscious decision made whilst she had pondered the situation many a time. She knew what it was to love and be loved, such a treasure to hold on to, a gift unsurpassed by any other and one she was so grateful to have.

Instinctively she let her hand slide slowly down to her chest and placed it flat against her heart. She could feel it beating beneath her palm, hard and strong. One by one her fingers curled into a ball and began to gently thump against her chest, without really thinking, she smiled and nodded towards the skies, lifting her clenched fist out towards the window where she let it stay a while. Her fingers uncurled and she reached out towards him, as if to touch his hand......nothing, no warm hand grasping her own, no arms enfolding her into a tight embrace, no warm whispered breath upon her cheek, no lips to kiss........just space, empty and cold, but still she smiled, knowing he was out there somewhere, imagining her alone and smiling too. Love has no boundaries and no distance to travel, such was their love now and for always.......of that she was certain as she whispered to the winds. "Stay safe for me my loved one, as I shall do so for ye."

[Halethala]

It seemed right, to be outside. In the cold barren gardens of winter. Pausing near the slender trunk of a younger tree, she curled her hands around it, leaning against it for several moments. As if drawing support from the dormant plant. Her other hand balled against her middle, she waited for the cramping waves to pass, then moved toward the frigid stone bench to ease herself down onto it. Letha wasn’t really surprised, yet dismayed nonetheless. Deeply so. Still, she could think of several good reasons why . .

. . why the wee life inside her was no longer . .

She’d thought of seeking the Healers . . . seeking out Lady Loxely . . talking to someone, anyone . . thought of how she’d tell Sinold . . but . .

She’d heard enough about it in hushed whispers. How it went. She’d wait a bit, a few days, maybe. Then she’d leave here . . for a while. Go off someplace where she could keep busy. So busy. Too busy to think.

For now, she let the cold seep in . . tensed against the next set of incoming waves . .

[Lady Edfeil]

((oh I am so glad to see this thread start up again))

[Dream Loxley]

(( Me too Eva ........and although the thread is called The Glen, we are in fact within Windstorm, so all are invited to join in as always. )

The Winter months had thus far been kindly to Windstorm and its people, what little snowfall they had endured did not linger and the last few weeks had given them an early insight into Spring. Dream doubted such fair weather would last, but for now it gave her the opportunity to breath fresh clean air and to enjoy those first tiny flowers that braved each new day to show themselves. She could not help but smile as the delicate petals of pure white Snowdrops bent their heads in a warm welcome, almost tempted to curtsy in return, she chuckled softly as she took in a deep, long breath of the cleansing air. Her steps were lighter than of late, even though no word had come from the Glen, nor her beloved Husband. Content in the knowledge that no news would be a good omen, she had tried her best to continue with life in the Castle, tending her children and the needs of those within the Village.

The Queen was recovering well from her recent illness, and as such decisions and plans for the new season would soon be made. The lands would continue to be worked, crops sown and reaped, children would grow. Life would continue as it always did. Dream smiled again, knowing deep within her heart that all would be well.

Her smile faded more slowly than it had appeared when she caught sight of Halethala. The woman was sitting upon a stone bench, alone.....and obviously deep in thought. As Dream moved towards her she could see the paleness of her friend's features, something was wrong, but of what, she was not completely sure. It was the way Letha was sitting, hunched over as if in some pain, Dream could see such as she approached. Concern within her voice, she spoke softly but clearly, moving to take hold of Halethala's shoulder.

"Letha.....my friend.....what be wrong....are ye ill....can I help ye to come inside, else ye will catch a chill sitting here with nae a blanket."

She looked her friend over, nothing was obvious, and yet such a deathly palour could not be ignored, or the pain and fear that seemed etched into the beautiful face of such a strong woman.

"Letha." Dream repeated, more urgently......questioning.

[Halethala]

She started slightly at the touch, even though she'd vaguely sensed the approach of footfalls behind her. Tented beneath her cloak, arms drawn inside to warm her hands, the right clutched tightly around the fisted wrist of the other, both pulled up snugly against her middle, Letha slowed the gentle back and forth undulations that had occupied the times between the gripping.

"I n'er felt it stir, dear Dream. N'er once felt the flutterings I heard would come." Her voice calmer and steadier than she expected, although each word seemed as if the center had been hollowed out. She'd been thinking about her own mother . . imagining her mother's mother . . saddened most by the link that was broken.

Yet her eyes had settled and fixed on the snowy whiteness that had pushed up through the fertile earth several paces distant. The first clear sign of returning life. And she thought of the Loxley's beautiful children . .

The eyes that turned upwards to meet her friend's were rimmed with wetness . . yet devoid of self pity. Rising determinedly, she gritted her teeth against the brief spasm of pain, and when it passed, nodded towards the castle as she leaned against the offered arm of Lady Dream, summing the circumstances with simple truthfulness . .

"'Tis simply the way of things."

[Dream Loxley]

Dream heard her friend's words, but it took her more than a moment to fully understand them. She frowned deeply and caught her breath in an attempt to speak. Sure not, a babe, Letha was with child and she had not known, Letha had not confided in her.....so many questions threatened to spill from her lips but she just swallowed them away and aided Halethala to her feet.

"Oh Letha......Letha......" Was all she could say, as memories flooded back of her own loss. The dagger still embeded within the desk of her chambers from where Robin had just that once lost his temper. She had never before and never since seen him so angry. The loss of their own babe, although so early on was devastating and a trial of courage and strength she would not wish upon even her worst enemy.

"Let me help ye my friend......I am here, let us get ye in from the cold, a warm fire, some hot broth......" Sighing softly. "Aye, 'tis the way of things." She reached up with tender fingers to stroke the hair from Letha's face, smiling softly, yet so deeply afraid. The babe may be lost to them now, but she could not and would not lose her friend. Panic and fear threatened to engulf her, just where would she find that inner strength as it so quickly seemed to flee in the presence of this unseen enemy.

The women walked slowly back to the Castle, Dream beckoned a nearby Guard to help with the heavy wooden doors and looked at Letha for guidance. She was unsure for a moment, and swallowed the lump that had appeared within her throat. When she found her voice again, her words were a mere whisper to Letha's ear. "Yer chambers fer privacy my friend, or the Infirmary?"

[Halethala]

Letha shook her head, the resolute decisiveness of the small action as if to ward off the entire unfolding day, if she could have. She thought of the men that lay mending in the glenn, thought of the queen . . “I am not wounded, dear Friend . . nor am I ill. The healers could not do much for me. The worst has passed, I fear, as this has been going on for some time already.” Glancing back at the gardens, mindless of the guard entirely, “It just felt so good to let the chill cool my face.”

But Dream still waited her answer, “Neither, if you will forgive my imposition. I really cannot bear being alone in this.” She hedged yet another moment. “If you would not have your children exposed to . . well, best not . . perhaps I could be quartered closeby?”

No, that was silly . . she was a grown woman, she would be fine. Biting at her lip as she pressed her elbows against her sides as inconspicuously as she could, she knew she should get off her feet soon. “My chambers will be fine. If you could . . could stay with me, just for a bit?”