The Glen

[Dream Loxley]

((Forgive a little forced posting, just wanted to get you comfy ))

The Guard held open the heavy doors and stepped back to show discretion, staying close enough to be called upon if needed. He offered both ladies a smile, acknowledging that perhaps something was amiss. Dream returned his smile and nodded her head to acknowledge his silent concern. She thanked him and ushered Letha along the corridor towards the back stairs to the upper floors. The faltering voice of her friend had been enough to spur her into action, of course she would stay, and where better to rest than within the Loxley rooms, for Dream knew she had medicines there that would at least help to dull some of the pain Letha was enduring. Her heartbreak would take longer, but time was a good healer, love and kindness also would be there for however long it took.

"My children are with Mary, such an adventure they shall continue to have, nae a fear my friend........we shall be alone for as long as ye so wish. I have some willowbark and ye will take some broth and rest. All shall be well again, I promise ye."

With instructions given to a nearby servant to have Mollie or Millie fetch boiling water to her chambers, along with bread and broth, Dream helped her friend gently up the staircase, feeling each laboured step with her, knowing how wretched and forlorn Letha was feeling. She spoke of the gardens and the fresh air, how the flowers were blooming, of simple things, just mindless banter, in the hopes it may aid her friend's mind to a better place.

Once behind the door of her chambers, Dream settled Letha upon the large bed. Covering her with a quilt, she sat down beside her friend and just smiled softly. Reaching for a hand, she squeezed it tightly and searched the depths of her heart for the right words of comfort, knowing nothing she said just now would truly help.

[Halethala]

Pausing to frame each new word picture Lady Dream painted for her with such lovely detail, Letha followed along, willingly, gratefully. She’d sought the gardens for exactly those reasons, but found Dream’s descriptives to be almost an even better refuge, not bound by the seasons. As was the generously offered bed. Letha quieted even the slightest protest, realizing the unfamiliarity of the surroundings were perhaps the wisest choice to get through this with minimal trauma.

The eyes she turned upon Dream as her own hand squeezed back were brimming with gratitude. Letha commanded her tears at bay. There would be time enough for them when she was alone . . later. She tumbled her friend’s words, “All shall be well again” through her head only once, resolutely denying the argument that there would only be one first . . and that firsts of anything were by their very nature . . special. No, there were yet too many reasons not to mourn overmuch. She would gather them, one by one, as time would gift them, and cherish them, each.

“I wanted to tell you . . wanted Sinold to tell ye all . . . of the babe.” Her voice was still soft and even, as if she were telling someone else’s story. “I thought so oft’n of yer own little ones, how delighted they’d be to hae another to play with.” She shifted herself to her side, pulling her knees together and up slightly, not loosening her grip enough to indicate she wished to be untethered yet. “One more to widen the census of Windstorm.” Her smile began to fragment slightly. “They be a kiss ‘o blessing to a couple’s union, aye?”

She thought back to the pagen circle . . to the pivotal look in her brother’s eyes. Letha was not given to any one religious belief, but had always sensed there was more to the world than what one could easily see. And while such things were never boldly defined nor agreed upon always, she did know right from wrong.

“My dear, dear Dream . . I brought this on myself. I did. In every way possible.”

Still her voice was steady, her eyes yet un-teared. There was, most often, a sort of courage one could anchor oneself to in refusing to hide. Letha had wrestled long enough to know she was losing the battle. She was wrong, simple as that. Wrong.

“Sinold will ne’er forgive me. He will not.” Her grip grew tighter. “Anna he should not.”

Not realizing her vagueness could be misinterpreted.

[Dream Loxley]

In the quiet of the room, Letha's words were heart wrenching, each one spoken with pain and guilt. I wanted to tell you . . wanted Sinold to tell ye all . . . of the babe. I thought so oft’n of yer own little ones, how delighted they’d be to hae another to play with. Dream found her head shaking from side to side as she listened. The hand she held gently, took a tighter hold as Letha fidgeted within the bed, obviously still in some discomfort. The concern Dream had for her friend was edged with admiration for how well she was coping, and pity ......for her friend to have to suffer this was a tragedy.I brought this on myself. I did. In every way possible. Sinold will ne’er forgive me. He will not......Anna he should not. She reached up her free hand to stroke Letha's pale cheek, still shaking her head with a gentle smile that was holding back her tears.

"And so proud yer Sinold would have been to tell us all, as would the Castle be.....and the village.....a new life 'tis always a celebration....the future, our future. But......"

She softened her brow, pushing aside the anger she felt inside, for one to have to suffer so, for she understood why and tried to explain.

"But sometimes.....'tis nae meant to be so, nature knows, she does her best, sometimes 'tis the hardest thing to bear, but something must have been amiss with yer babe.....or ye may nae be so well yeself now. Ye must nae take such upon yerself my friend, nae ever take the blame, promise me.......Sinold would nae blame ye. Angry aye.....indeed he shall be so, but nae ever at ye, fer ye have nae done wrong by him. 'twas simply nae to be."

She was glad of the gentle knock upon the door and stood to greet Mollie who had carried a tray up the stairs. Dream thanked her and explained the Lady Halethala was just under the weather and would stay here a while. Mollie did not request any further information and left the tray nearby, curtsying as she left the room. The distraction gave Dream time to reconsider her words, hoping they had made sense and were of some comfort. She busied herself for a few moments, steeping some willowbark into the hot water. For the briefest of moments her thoughts turned to Gerrad, did he know, how would he react, did he even have the right to know. She hurriedly pushed all such thoughts away for now, Letha needed her, and idle thoughts of what was to be or not, would not help at all.

Turning again to smile warmly, she blew the mug of hot willow bark tea as she approahed, to cool it before offering it to Halethala. Sitting down again, she sat quietly, only the sounds of the fire burning within the grate and the bird song filtering through from outside broke the silence. If both women were to voice every thought within their minds just now, the room would sound like a riot.

"Drink yer tea my friend.....and nae another word of blame now........."

[Halethala]

Taking the mug reflexively, she held the heat between her hands and simply looked at it . . as if it held answers she could not read. After length, she looked up again to Dream, loving her all the more for her sweet compassion. She’d not understood . . . but then again, how could she, and yet, to a point, she was right nonetheless. With hesitation, nodding with mute obedience, Letha swallowed down the blame along with the tea, committing herself to the moment. To health.

She slept, often, and usually very deeply. Blissfully without dreams at first, yet they were not to be denied forever. Jumbled together, with the fuzzy overlap peculiar to dreams, the faces of her parents drifted through, punctuated by the violence her father had freely meted at her mother’s many miscarriages . . Sinold’s rugged smile, always just out of her reach . . . the white sails of ships slowly sizzling into the western horizon on the very edge of sight . . . showers of apple blossoms softly quilting down around her as she sat motionless in the gardens . . the small wail of a tiny newborn ever mewling in the background . . and more often than it should, she felt like she was drowning in her brother’s eyes . .
And they talked. Haltingly at first, as if testing the grounds for their footing, at first. Letha cajoled her friend to share in completeness her first, fateful encounters with her Robin, how it had grown into love . . and had led into more. She’d known snippets here and there, but never the whole history in one often interrupted sitting. She could have listened forever, her smile genuine and tender, punctuated quite often with laughter that ranged from soft, amused chuckles to bursts of delight. Letha urged Lady Dream to include her children in earshot of some of the telling, though they didn’t rest long in their caressing embraces before either scampering off to play, or relaxing into their own sweet slumbers, cuddled trustingly against one or the other on the large, soft bed.

When Letha felt any threat of tears, she bore her eyes downward, nuzzled into the downy head of a little one, or pressing her chin against a bunched pillow, steeling herself until they passed. But it wasn’t often, and wasn’t hard to fight them. They were like steep, crumbling cliffs. You knew to stay away from the edges, knew the dangers of getting too close, and simply avoided them.

The closest she came was a sun-drenched late afternoon when they found themselves drawn back out to meander the garden paths again, and a daring wee bird swooped so closely overhead that they both ducked slightly at the unexpected encounter. Letha’s posture grew more erect and tensed than it had in days as she ventured onto brittle ground once more, with guarded caution, the small bird the provocation of her thoughts. “Nay can we stop the winged ones from their flights over our heads . . but the sages say we can cease their building nests in our hair.”

A few paces later. “I nay think it so easy a thing anymore, halting the nest-building.”

The eyes Letha turned towards her friend with more clarity than she intended were pleading and moist with misery, “Tell me I read him wrong, dear Dream, saw wrongly? It is not right to swallow me so with something I cannot return to him . . .

I . . I need him as brother. Ever so the more now."

[Halethala]

((Oh! I meant to both apologize for my own bit of forced posting . . and hint broadly at how much I should love to hear Dream spin a lengthy telling of the Loxley's beginnings *grins* Perhaps it will even cajole the goodly Lord Robin back!))

[Dream Loxley]

(( Such a challenge you have given me! *L* but I feel no amount of cajoling Mister Loxley will bring him back unless time looks more kindly upon him *S*))

They had settled comfortably within the confines of the Loxley chambers, Dream suddenly aware she was sharing her family with Letha. It felt strange at first, for so oft had she been alone here, with only the fire for comfort whilst her children slept or played. Alone and yet somewhat fulfilled by the closeness of the children, the crackle of the fire, and the glow of the ever burning candle in the window. How one can be used to such trivial things when there seems no alternative.

Talking of the past had been easy for Dream, simply because she lived within her memories far more than she enjoyed the present, although with her children there was always a smile to be had and a warm cuddle. Those things were held onto tightly as the past were just memories, fleeting glimpses of what once was. The years had taken their toll on her heart, perhaps made it harder and less easy to break. Yes he loved her as she loved him, but distance was such a difficult thing to endure, and with no word still, she had slowly accepted the fact that she may continue to bring up their children alone. Such fears did not surface into words shared with Halethala, only the happier times were shared between the two women.

Dream explained how she had come to Windstorm in search of her Father, and the joy of finding him. That was another story, but knowing how he had thought her dead and that they both had so much to learn from each other had allowed her heart to be open once more, not guarded and closed. She had felt something special for Robin from the first moment she set eyes upon him, knowing nothing of him, nor even speaking to him, her heart had been lost to him then and there.

Several men of the realms had taken an interest in her but never once did she falter in her love for him, such growing daily as they spent time in each other's company. He had spoken of his life before Windstorm, his Rangers and how they had come about, sharing each tale that kept her enthralled. She saw behind the hard exterior he showed many, learned of the huge and generous heart that beat within his tall and handsome body, loving him all the more.

He would take her riding, gifting her the stallion she named Biscuit and allowing her to experience his world of forests and creatures. They had ventured deep into the woods, silently waiting until a family of Deer appeared, he explained each one as if he knew them personally. Only to feed his men would he ever kill one, and then all of the animal would be used, none wasted, and every time thanks had been given. With every new day spent with him, more and more she had loved him, sharing the simplest of tasks, listening to his words, the magic within them and the future within his eyes. She was completely and utterly besotted by him.

Finally he had proposed to her whilst they enjoyed a picnic upon the beach at midnight. Drenched in moonlight by a fire he had built, she accepted his ring even though she knew at times she would be alone with only her memories, for never would he stop from patrolling and aiding those in peril. Accepting those terms, was never difficult, even though she would wake to an empty bed, wondering when he would return, his love had been enough then, and even now she held onto it so very tightly.

Their children had been blessings she had never expected, and both Ellissia and Thomas had given them such pleasure, although little Thomas did not know his Father so well, she spoke daily of him, sharing little stories so both would know he would return one day. Hope was never far, and always part of each new day.

Dream had hoped Halethala would speak further of her own marriage, and what she hoped for the future, but now......as they walked in the gardens, wrapped up against the cold air, she found her thoughts once again going to Gerrad, and to her Robin. Had he found him, was he safe, were they both safe....she had no answers. Much as she had no real answers to the question posed now by Letha.

"Tell me I read him wrong, dear Dream, saw wrongly? It is not right to swallow me so with something I cannot return to him . . .I . . I need him as a brother. Ever so the more now."



"I can nae tell ye that which may ease yer heart Letha, I saw such within Gerrad's eyes that told me of his caring, his love for ye......mayhaps more than a Brother. We can nae halt that which our heart tells us, he must be fighting demons within, knowing ye are married, I am sure he would nae ever wish ye to be torn...... 'tis a goodly man he be, but he can nae help from loving ye aye."

She sighed deeply, knowing the turmoil both were experiencing, Gerrad with his duties, his wounds, searching for Robin, his heart aching for Letha who was so far away. The distance yet again causing such pain. She had no way of knowing what the future held for any of them, they could only wait, and keep hope within their hearts.

"Mayhaps ye should send word to him........tell him of....." Her head lowered as she whispered the words* "Tell him of the babe, of how yer heart speaks to ye.....mayhaps 'tis those words he needs to hear, so he may be yer Brother......or whatever 'tis ye truly wish of him Letha."

[Gerrad]

Gerrad had come across Todd, Owen, Willam and Smith along with the other Rangers that had left at his request to find the injured Rangers that he had indicated on the map.

They were on their way back to the Glen when he had come across them. Pleasantries were exchanged but Gerrad was reserved when asked of their home. He felt odd for some reason and yet could not understand why.

He had asked of Lord Robin but none had seen their leader and so after a short while he left them to continue their journey homewards.

He continued on his way, the horse moving quickly over the terrain and he wondered why he was so driven to get to his destination, to find Lord Loxley.

Was it to tell him of Lady Loxley?, mayhaps it was to explain why he had broken the seal of Robin's letter to Lady Loxley or was it to confess his love to some one that in all reality could not be his?.

It was as he was asking himself these questions, that he crested a hill and found himself riding full tilt into the encampment of Rangers.

Men shouted at him and drew swords and then re sheathed them when realising who it was.. some men rushed to him as he sat motionless on his steed. He was oblivious to them all as his eyes searched for his leader and upon finding him he watched as the man sat motionless staring at the small fire in front of him..

He dismounted stiffly, the continous pain in his side from the healing wound forgotten as he walked as fast as he could towards Robin.. He stopped just a few paces away..

"Greetings M'Lord Robin... i have done as ye asked and delivered thy missive to Lady Loxley and thy other commands have mostly been taken care of but i have made some mistakes" His voice trailed off into silence and then without thinking he continued. "Have ye won the battle M'Lord"

He waited and watched as the man before him, obviously deep in thought, slowly raised his eyes to look at him. The dark brown eyes met his and seemed to burrow deep into his soul extracting his every thought, then the eyes scanned him quickly from head to toe and then again met his eyes.

"Gerrad my friend there are no winners in battles as ye rightly know.... however Ahh am pleased to see ye Gerrad..... ahh have missed ye greatly, my wife and Ellissia and Thomas are well i trust?" Robin paused

Gerrad almost gushed his words so quickly that they didn't make a lot of sense.

"Aye Robin she be well , she needs yer back home and thy chidren also are home and well and i done nae seen them small ones but Lady Loxley was missing you an Halethala as well an i done did somethin so wrong an " He stopped mid sentence as Robin held up a hand and smiled at him.

"Gerrad stop now.... go and rest till morn...yer look like death itself has dragged yer body here. ahh shall speak to ye more on the morrow go and see Albert... he will give ye something to make ye sleep well"

Gerrad bowed, retreated and went to find Albert. Dissapointed that Robin had dismissed him so quickly he took that which Albert offered him and slept hte rest of the day and well into the next....

[Robin of Loxley]

He sat contemplating the last day...... An agreement had been forged between Himself and the over zealous and foolish King of the Realm. The sad part of it all was that it was all completely unneccessary. He had come for aid and it was misconstrued as agression by His insecure former Leige.

As he sat staring at the small fire in front of Him, he thought of His beloved wife and children... Thomas would of course likely not know much of Him ..but Ellissia would remember... and He longed for the touch of His beloved Dream... How apt was her name He thought... His Dream... the one that filled all dark thoughts and loneliness with light, love and hope...

He held her image within the flames of the fire His hand formed a fist and for the first time for a long time He tapped His chest and held his hand up to the winds..... willing the love He held for her to be carried forth and find her as it had done in the past..

He was tired, the sleepness days and nights during the conflict had taken their toll... but more so the growing number of villagers and men at arms that wished to come back with Him to a land portrayed by His Rangers as "sweeter than honey"....

He had not promised that they could do so.... for it would be foolish, and He needed the blessing of Lady Edfeil for the acceptance of so many within the Realm at one time.... yet He would ask...

It was at that moment that a comotion in the camp had heralded the arrival of a newcomer ... He waited and listened to the footfalls of the person approaching Him... an uneven gait, an obviously wounded man , was passaged to him.

He smiled slightly as the man spoke... and after a short exchange He sent Gerrad off to rest.... There was something about the way Gerrad spoke and presented that concerned him....not just the obvious pain that he was in .... but something deeper... much deeper..


I'll ask of it on the morrow He thought....

He focused again on the fire and lost Himself in the flames.... Talking quietly within...holding the most precious thing to Him close as the day and then the night wore on....

Sleep found Him and for the first time in as long as He could remember.... sleep came quickly and effortlessly............

[Halethala]

As Dream had peeled the years back and, with such fond tenderness, spoke of her husband, Letha thought back across her own unfolding love with Sinold, chaotic and impassioned it had been, the trajectory of its path had differed so from the Loxleys. They said marriage sometimes changes a person. It seemed to have done exactly that for Letha . . the differences that had always been there had seemed to widen between them within the confines of their vows. Even their vows had been . . arguably unique. Letha loved him for that, loved him for his lively embrace of life. He always seemed to be running where she was happy to simply stroll. There had been times she could have sworn she saw disappointment in his eyes. But he loved her as well, she knew. Could their love survive the growing distances, the absences, as the Loxleys had. . . of that, she was less certain. Whatever came, she knew he would always always hold a very special part of her heart.

How could her friend possibly understand. She loved without faulter. Loved unequivocally. Loved without thought of any other. Letha was just simply not made of the same solidity. “Can it matter what I wish, dear Friend? Such wishes must be, at best, corralled.” She sighed and began again after they settled down to a light meal in the Great Hall before a tepid fire in the massive fireplace. “We are so different, my own husband and I. Not that I did not know this going into our bonding. Still, I thought perhaps . . hoped . . those variances would not be so great a hindrance.”

“I wonder how often we love simply because we ARE loved . . finding it irresistible to return that which is offered. Basking in the attention of another, following our impulses and . . wishes . . to be thought special. To be singled out among the many.”

Letha rested her elbows upon the polished surface, hands folded loosely with her chin resting atop the laced fingers. “When Gerrad asked to adopt me as his sister, ‘twas a gift beyond measure. To think of him as more . .” Her fingers tightened. “Oh Dream. He will make some woman so very happy, so very much so . . . Perhaps if times had . . if things were . .”

The stream of her thoughts was halted as they were approached, respectfully, but a very tall messenger from the port, impeccably dressed, his cheeks ruddy with good cheer. He bowed very low to both Ladies, having asked before approaching which was the one he sought. Letha’s golden head made identification easy.

“M’Lady Bragasson? Do pardon ta interruption . . but I be wonderin’ iffen ye could aide in finding your husband about . . I hae searched about for several days now, both castle and village, askin’ after him to whomever I be thinkin’ might know. They did nae wish to trouble ye, or worry ye a’nae findin’ him about.”

With an apologetic hesitance, the man held out a battered package, the name nearly obscured by grime and wear. It had obviously been handled by many, or perhaps endured storms or . . who knew what. Letha accepted it gingerly, nodding a mute thanks, having to prod herself to a more courteous gratitude. She reached into her pocket to fetch out several coins, uncounted, but the man merely waved her away. “Tis been well paid already, M’Lady, the delivery. Ye’ve no need. I do hope ye . . erm . . find yer husband.” He spun about with surprising haste, driven by the awkwardness he felt, and was gone.

She should have asked more, should have questioned him more. Should have spoken something . . at the very least her thanks. She wasn’t sure which was more puzzling . . the package itself, or the fact than none had seen her mate despite a thorough searching. She looked over to Lady Loxley with a very perplexed expression.

[Dream Loxley]

They had ended their walk through the gardens in silence, none voicing opinions nor thoughts as they made their way back to the Great Hall. The chill within the Spring day had given both ladies a healthy glow to their features, and the warmth from the hearth when they entered through the garden doors was welcomed and embraced. Dream was certain the fresh air had been good for Halethala, but not so sure her words of comfort and advice had been so well received. She had a habit of allowing her heart to speak and as such still her head from letting forth it's own, perhaps more plausible reasoning.

It seemed that decisions regarding Gerrad had possibly been made by Halethala, accepting that her marriage was to come first, and her heart to be ignored. Yet the dilema was still there etched deeply within her heart and her face when she spoke again as they enjoyed a large bowl of soup at the table. Dream's own heart ached for her friend, wishing only for her to find the peace and comfort she so deserved.

Absently, she stirred her soup, allowing thoughts to form, visions to be found......memories to comfort her own pain. Fate and destiny had been such a huge part of her life, she had firmly believed she was meant to find her Father and to settle within the Castle, such had already been written somewhere in the vastness of time. To find love, to be loved and to return that love was never expected, and yet it had fulfilled her and completed her to depths she could never imagine. Thinking on this as she finally sipped the soup from a wooden spoon, pondering Letha's words of loving simply because one was loved. Dream swallowed the soup along with the words that would have been spoken, possibly disagreeing with her friend and causing even more confusion within the poor woman's mind. Instead, she offered a smile as Letha continued to speak, nodding in agreement , at last, speaking softly her words muddling together, having no true idea of which direction they were taking.

"Mayhaps ye be right Letha......differences can make and break a relationship iffn 'twas nae so strong to begin with. And yet, those differences can also be tolerated, accepted......a compromise ye think. My Robin gifted me his heart, as I did mine to him......but always I wanted more, at times more than he could give........"

Quickly she took another mouthful of the soup, knowing her opinions should be kept safely within her mind. Letha spoke further of Gerrad, and Dream knew then that any decisions were far from being made, indeed the man would make somebody very happy........could that person be Letha.....should it be so she wondered.

When the messenger appeared, she was almost glad of the distraction, knowing her heart was to speak further of things only she understood. Watching the man and his mannerisms, listening intently to his words. She frowned deeply, unsure of what was in the package, but equally as curious when Halethala looked at her. The questions within her eyes bore so deeply into Dream's she felt overwhelmed for a moment, and filled with a fear of what was to be.

Dream had always been a little unsure of Sinold, simply because of his heritage, not personally, although time had never truly allowed them to know one another and become firm friends. Word was that after Thorgrimm's death, Sinold had travelled with the Varangians back to his homeland, seeking comfort for his loss with them and not his Wife. Gossip was always gossip, but Dream had never really known the truth. Death was never easy on those left behind, sometimes a closeness could be found, together with those left to mourn, sometimes so great a distance was formed, each person had to deal with their own emotions, in whatever way they felt was right.

Urging her friend on, she whispered softly with a compassionate smile, instinctively reaching our a hand to squeeze Halethala's own. "Open it Letha....mayhaps a clue shall be found within.....Ye have such a need to know of him."

[Halethala]

All else temporarily set aside, Letha broke her eyes away from Dream to look back down at the rather bulky, misshapen bundle spilling across her lap. The outer wrappings were of a very coarse leather, bound tightly with thin leather strips, some of which had apparently been replaced, others frayed almost to shreds. Not hesitating any longer, Letha reached across and took up the small, sharp blade used to slice the bricks of cheese and began severing the bindings. Peeling back layers, she found yet another wrapped bundle, this of very fine, thin leather, of obviously skillful crafting. There was less damage to this, and tucked tightly within the straps was a flattened scroll. Letha freed it, and carefully unrolled it to discover several pages of parchment coiled within, covered with tiny characters. Leaving the parcel yet undone, Letha began to devour the words, after the initial shock of seeing to whom it was addressed . . the name long unused on her tongue . . “To the Lady Halethala Tramhame”

. . her birth name.

She noticed then that the missive was dated back over two years ago . . before she had married. Still, whomever had written must not have known of her first marriage. Tempted to skip to the end to discover the sender, she drew a steadying breath and continued, glancing up at Dream to register her reaction.

“It is not for Sinold after all, it seems.” Her forehead furrow into a mystified bewilderment. “The letter bears my given name. So how on earth it came addressed to him . . “ She left the questioning thought unfinished, and began to read.

“I have little hope of this finding you, but feel obligated to give it my best effort. I have had it thrice returned, but have found, each time, another who swears he will find a way to discover your fate and present whereabouts. It has, perhaps, cost more than it is worth. But time will be the judge of that.

You will not have known about me, I am quite certain. But I assure you my existence is, and always has been, quite real. I am your mother’s brother, born shortly after she left and was shut off from her family. Thus, she may never have heard of me, nor told you of me. Those were, indeed, dark times. I would not have known of you either, had it not been for one coming forth claiming to be you. I knew little of my sister, but knew enough that she could not have born one as old as the woman who insisted she were you. I did, as well, perhaps foolishly, cherish a notion that any kin of mine own would not be as steel hearted as this one that stood before me. Though quite charming at the beginning, her masquerade quickly wore thin, and she became furious to find her claim to the Tramhame fortunes not hers alone. More furious still to find there was little left to claim.

She gathered her cohorts and departed with righteous indignation, yet mercifully, and surprisingly, without bloodshed. One of my servants later discovered the contents of this package left in her wake. Busted into several pieces, and ill cared. But, it is a match to the one I possess, and I have a feeling you would cherish its return.

As I would cherish the chance to meet you, if you are indeed yet alive. I have little to offer but my heart and the warmth of family, however unfamiliar.

With anticipation and affection,
Lord Coenred Tramhame”

Letha slowly lowered the letter to rest atop the bundled gift and let an ocean of emotions wash across her heart. The eyes she aimed at her friend were bright with unshed tears . . and a thousand more questions.

“Could it be, I hae blood kin yet about?” She faultered, then. She had kin, here, dear and sure. Kin of heart she would not ever wish to leave.

And . . who was to say that it may not yet be another deception . .

[Dream Loxley]

Dream allowed the soup to go cold without taking another spoonful, her eyes fixed upon the package, willing Letha to open it and seek out what was safely bound within. From the appearance, it had certainly taken a while to find her, and perhaps endured many a day lost and alone. Now it was found and Dream listened intently as Letha proceeded to read the letter aloud. She suddenly realised just how little she knew of her friend's past. It had never mattered, not should it matter now, and yet, as she read out the letter, such conflict and despair she could hear within Letha's voice. This was indeed unexpected, but it could be just the news to lift Halethala and give her back a reason to hope.

She remembered, vaguely, a time when Gerrad had travelled with Halethala, before she was married to Sinold......was such the same woman being spoken of now, she wondered. The details evaded Dream's memory, such not being as good as it once was. This was indeed a mystery that needed to be solved.

Her head tilted slightly as she pictured the scene unfolding within Letha's words, so many questions of her own were already forming, but in the end it would be the Letha who would have to make the decision, her choice alone.

"I recall a time, with Gerrad.......ye travelled together in search of another.....such could be the same woman yer Uncle speaks of now? Could ye get word to him...mayhaps to travel here to meet with ye......'tis nae such a goodly thing for ye to travel just yet.......do ye think.......I do nae wish to stop ye, for family 'tis so very important, but ye still need to rest a while."

Dream smiled softly......such hope had been gifted to her friend in this suprise package. The letter having finally found the one it was meant for, fate once again stepping in to guide it. Such lifted her own heart as she smiled again, waiting for Halethala to find that which had taken so long to find her.

[Halethala]

Letha’s left brow drew upwards, and she nodded in a muted agreement as she unfolded the wrappings, the ill treated hilt finally exposed on her motionless knees. “Nae, I shan’t travel as yet . . nor am I sure ‘tis wise. I cannot, with full and unwavering certainty, swear that this indeed the same I once held.” It wasn’t just the damage and scars, but the passage of time that dimmed her memory of it.

Her fingers did not move to rove across it, staying beneath the supple leather as she continued. “”Twas the first I met Gerrad, that journey. I was so angry with Sinold for having arranged escort wit’out asking, yet would most assuredly not still be here were it not for Gerrad and his Rangers. I was in such awe of them . . all of them. “

Letha’s eyes met Dream’s, her thoughts scattered like light fractured through the imperfections of poor quality glass . . or the spray of a waterfall. “No matter where he goes, how long he’s gone, what peril he’s in . . yer Robin always makes sure ye know he’s safe . . he’s well. And that his love for ye ne’er wavers.” Her hands began to draw the leather back across the broken sword, “”Sinold left no word for me as to where he’s gone off to . . sent no word as to whether he’s arrived, if indeed he has . . nor assurances of either his safety . . or his love . . “ There was no self pity in her voice, it was actually rather empty altogether, no more impassioned than if she were reporting the theft of half the winter’s firewood, though surely her friend could sense the eddies behind the damn as Letha cradled the bundle with exaggerated care.

The small smile she aimed toward Dream was brief, but sincere as she stood. “I shall take your advice, and write my brother . . ask his counsel . . of many things.” Leaning down to circle her friend with her free arm, “Perhaps we could ride into the market at Summersville sometime soon, and find some small, exotic gifts for the Rangers among the imported goods? I could use the exercise to build me up again, should I decide to hazard another journey . . and the fresh sea air would be a boon to the spirits, aye?”

((I’ll post her letter soon!))

[Dream Loxley]

Dream watched her friend as the bindings and wrappings were finally shed, revealing an old sword hilt. Such could have told many tales, for it had obviously lived a long and arduous life. She wondered if fond memories had found their way into Letha's heart, or if the past had remained just that. There were no tell tale emotions coming from her friend, she seemed almost to have blocked them, keeping them all safe lest her heart would break even more. It was a curious situation, Dream pondered what may come from this gift, this stranger......if anything.

Nodding as Halethala spoke of her beloved Robin, for a moment she wondered still if she would always know he was safe. Was their love so true and deep that they would each know of the other's plight lest they should find themselves in peril or danger. She had liked to believe it, for all these years, for keeping her faith in his love gave her such comfort. She smiled then, sincerely and natural, knowing how lucky she was even though they were oft so far apart.

"Aye.......he has always tried to let me know.....and yet at times I have too been lost to him.....as ye must feel ye are to Sinold. Ye must give him time, space to heal his wounds, and his heart.....mayhaps then he shall return to ye. My Robin always tells me to have faith.....faith in his love fer me, and the children........" Dream let her words fade, as she could see they might do more harm than good. It was clear Halethala's heart was closed to Sinold for the time being, closed to anything and anyone who would hurt her further than she had already been hurt. Knowing how she felt about her own Husband, and he for her, would be like adding salt to those wounds still raw and weeping. Dream knew then that she had no more advice to share, nothing would help Letha to make her decisions.....only she knew which road she would eventually take and where that would lead her.

Dream leaned into the embrace, nodding again as Letha spoke of Gerrad and the trip to Summersville. Both were good choices made and proof that perhaps Letha was ready to move on with her life.

"Indeed we shall, and mayhaps on the morrow iffn the weather holds. A little sunshine to warm our faces can only be a goodly thing methinks."

[Robin of Loxley]

He drew out the bird from the cage..... and attatched the missve to it's leg carefully.

It was his only hope of sending a message to his beloved and those at Windstorm whom he loved. If this pigeon did not make it.......there were no other second chances

He had not done so until now.........he wrote furiously....a message worth saying was a message worth giving...

*Dream.......i love ye more than i can say...........but trust my words............there are more than i coming home to ye....in fact there be a number more than three times the Rangers numbers.........all following and dreamiing of a place they can call home...

I find that as each step i take.......more follow........can ye talk to the Queen and ............can ye talk to her now.. for i am unable to stem the flow of good yoemen and their women folk that insist on following...

My heart breaks each day as i listen to my people.........I am so lucky to have so many people that have risen to such great heights to help me and our cause.........I am at a loss......so many people........so little hope....i can nae leave them ........... i can nae step one foot forward to your arms without knowing their fate...

Know that yer m'love and as such i'm at one with ye....help me in my days of need.....help me help my subjects and my men....allow me to care and do as i ask of thee........

Gerrad has reached me.........yet he is stricken by an affliction one can nae heal.. what has happenned at home?.......for his most obvious wound is one i cannae heal!

Sending the bird on it's way.......he watched as it flew into the sky.....hoping against all hope it would find their home...........