"Looks like our ranger guest is here," Ceolfred observes. "You go see to 'im, lad. I'll wake yer pa when I'm done 'ere." Rastellion, who's just set out five mugs to join the teapot on the table, nods and steps outside.
Pausing a moment to watch Rastellion step out of the house, Immalaine heads to gather the boards setting on the table for Ceolfred. "I'll keep an eye on th' food, if ye want t' go wake him up." she says, nodding to the back room. "I don't burn nothin', 'xcept mebbe my fingers when I ain't careful."
Ceolfred smiles but shakes his head. "It's nearly done anyway. You go ahead an' sit... or see if that Ranger needs any help, if you'd like. I'll be done here in a minute."
Outside, Dúrlammad is just swinging down from his horse. He's brought Whitey as well. "Figured I'd save you th' trip," he explains to Rastellion as he leads both horses up and loops their reigns around the post by the cabin's front door. "Knew you'd be setting off this morning, whether back to Bree or to find that missing girl you were telling us about." He shakes his head a bit ruefully as he starts up the stairs. "Though I'd not get your hopes up. These aren't safe lands for a traveler alone, and especially a girl on foot!"
Just then, Immalaine opens the door to see the man walking up the stairs. " 'Morning," she quipped, cheerfully, "Yer jus' in time fer breakfast an' tea, if ye've a mind fer some."
Looks over his shoulder, Rastellion smiles at Immalaine. "Back t' Bree," he tells the ranger, turning back, "but it does seem I'll be needing that affidavit witnessed."
The older man looks between the two young people, his eyes sharp in a weathered face beneath a faded green hood. He nods, as if seeing the two together confirms something, before answering Immalaine. "Tea, at least, would be nice, thank you, miss. Been a cold ride, leaving th' hour before dawn." He turns to step back down and rummage in his saddlebag. "I'll be right in... go on ahead." Rastellion turns and gestures for Immalaine to precede him back into the small cabin.
Smiling at the men, she steps back into the cabin, where she heads to the table to pour the cups of tea for everyone. The fire warmed the room nicely, leaving a feeling of relaxed peace in the air. 'At least,' Immalaine thought ruefully to herself, 'until himself awakens.' Headed to the wall, she starts looking for honey for the tea, desiring the bit of extra sweetness.
Ceolfred is just putting food onto the plates when the ranger enters the cabin. "Ceolfred!" he calls. "Not yet caught in one of your own traps and eaten by bears, I see!"
"Dúrlammad! Thought by now you'd be rottin' in a ditch, stuck full o' goblin arrows, wi' yer balls bein' used fer dice!" The two men clasp hands, then Ceolfred hands him one of the mugs. "Now sit. Going t' be a bit afore you'll be done 'ere, and ya know I cook a fair bit better than what y' get down atcher camp."
The ranger laughs. "I'll not argue that... as, for most of them, 'herbs' are just something to stick in a pipe!" He sits at the table, looking around the room with interest, as Ceolfred steps into the back room. "Up with ya now, Cuthberd," he calls. "Food's ready, ranger's 'ere an' all. Gotta have you sign if you want Rastellion t' get that coin!"
A grumbled oath and indistinct words meet this greeting, followed by the sounds of Cuthberd levering himself out of bed. Ceolfred returns and gestures for Rastellion and Immalaine to sit at the table as well. "Start while it's 'ot," he suggests.
Having finally found a small pot containing a few bits of honeycomb, Immalaine heads back to the table. Dropping a piece into her own mug, she stirs it for a bit as she watches the men get their food. Turning to the man Ceol had called 'Durlammad', she asks. "Ye from 'round here ... this 'stelldin?" she asked, before blowing on her tea gently, wisps of steam drifting up from the amber liquid. As she takes a sip, she closes her eyes, smiling as the warmth courses down her throat.
The ranger shakes his head. "Grew up in Breetown. Came up here to help out, when things started getting bad. Though it's bad all over these days." He takes a bite of the scramble. "More than most folks know," he add in a low voice, apparently meant only for himself.
Cuthberd chooses this moment to limp into the room. He fixes the ranger with a dark scowl. "You th' fellow as is t' witness some bit o' paper so my boy can get m' money from those damn politic'ns?" Dúrlammad frowns briefly at Rastellion's father, then nods. "Well, let's get it over wit' then," Cuthberd says. "Sooner we do, sooner Rastellion can be headin' back t' Bree."
Raising one large hand, Ceolfred admonishes the other man. "No, now we're eatin'. Time fer business later." He points to the remaining plate by the empty chair. "Sit! Eat!"
Cuthberd grunts. Then, balancing on his crutch he lifts and swings the empty chair until it's facing the fireplace. Then he lifts his 'plate', hobbles over to it, and sits down, his back partially turned to the group at the table. A deep sigh comes from Rastellion, as he stares down at his own food and spoons it into his mouth, not meeting the eyes of anyone around the table.
Immalaine turns to look at Cuthberd, before turning back to the other men as she looks around the table. Laying her eyes on Rastellion, she frowns a moment, a look of worry in her eyes, as she shakes her head. Sipping her tea, she sighs and looks out the window, watching the shades of morning turn blue, the edge of overhead clouds rolling past the otherwise clear morning.
When breakfast is finished and the table cleared, the ranger places his box on the table and calls Rastellion and his father over to sit with him. He opens his box and pulls a quill, a seal, an enclosed candle-lamp, and a stick of wax from it. Then he places a parchment on the table. I'll just read this to you," he explains to the two men, "then each of you will sign. I'll witness it, and add the ranger seal as my oath that the document is genuine." He looks at the young man. "And then, Rastellion, you'll be authorized to act as your father's agent in Bree for the disposition of his property."
As the ranger offers this explanation, Ceolfred takes Immalaine's elbow and guides her toward the cabin's front door. "How 'bout you an' me take these bits o' new scraps out t' th' ladies?" he suggests, indicating the small pail he's carrying, containing the leavings from his preparation of the meal.
Looking back at Rastellion a moment, she nods as she heads out the door with Ceolfred, thinking maybe it was best to leave the ranger to his work. Heading down the steps, she follows around the side of the house to where the chickens were now resting from their morning feed.
Ceolfred hands her the pail for the birds in their coop, then leans against the fence that encloses the chicken run. He studies her a moment, then says, "I'm guessin', from yer reaction last night, that my nephew never told you 'bout th' lass he was engaged to?"
Immalaine pauses in the middle of feeding the chickens, then shakes her head with a sigh. "No, he didna."
"I'm not su'prised." He considers for a moment, then continues. "Was to th' daughter of an adjoinin' farm. Cuthberd always wanted t'exapand his family's holdin's." He shrugs. "That sort o' thing's more common than not, I s'pose. Anyway, Rastellion an' this girl... well, I'm pretty sure was the first time that boy was in love. "Happened on th' heels o' all that misery wi' his sister, so I know he was hurtin' too. Left hisself wide open." He looks down, kicking a booted foot in the dirt, before continuing. "Anyway, like you heard, when Cuthberd had t' sell his farm - after tha' goblin raid in which he lost 'is leg - the girls pa up an tells 'em that th' marriage is off. "As I 'erd it, Rastellion went an' tried t' talk to th' lass." He shakes his head. "I don' know what they said one to t'other, but th' lad came back in a foul mood - 'e'd been cryin' - grabbed 'is bow, an' took off into th'ills. Din' come 'ome for two days, an' didn' say a word 'bout it afterwards. But you coudl tell it was terin' 'im up inside."
He shakes his head again. "One o' th' reasons I told Cuthberd t' send th' boy to handle th' sale. Maybe snap 'im out of it." He looks over at her. "Anyway, guess what I'm tryin' t' say is that I din' think I'd see that lad promisin' anything t' any lass any time soon. Not after th' way 'e was hurt. 'E's got a soft heart, our Rastellion, though 'e'd not like t' hear me say it." His eyes meet hers. "But, I'm guessin, that if ye're goin' back wi' 'im, then 'e's promised you something." He raises a hand. "No, don' tell me. None o' this old man's business. Jus', 'ear what I'm sayin' - th' lad's still hurtin'. And trustin' anyone wit' 'is heart right now... well, I'd say tha's a damn sight 'arder for 'im right now than most'd think, not knowin'." His gaze grows intense. "But I figgered you should know."
She listens to Ceolfred intently, her back turned as she fed the chickens. She watches as a few of them drifted over to peck at the offerings, but barely notices them as the words his uncle spoke sink in. Some of what he was sayung she knew, for Rastellion himself had spoke to her of it just that night, still the weight of Ceolfred's words make her heart feel heavy for the pain that Rast had endured at the cruel whim of his ex-fiancee and her father. Her shoulders slump slightly, but she turns to Ceolfred to look at him. "I canna change what 'appened t' him, all I know is that he deserved better than what she did t' him. Think her a fool, honest, fer what she put 'im through. How she couldna see ... " Immalaine shakes her head. "I love him, an' I ain't care if he got nothin' or if he were the mayor of Bree, I love 'im anyways. I ain't got nothin' t' offer 'xcept meself an' it scares me." She turns, looking out to the sun, as the breeze catches her hair, blowing strands around her face, her eyes filled with worry.
The older man watches her standing in the early morning light and heaves a sigh. "I ain't got no answers for ya. Sounds like yer both scared an' hurt. Trick is whether ye'll be a comfort t' each other, or a way t' make th' hurt worse. But tha's your road t' walk - you an he. I jus' though you should know what 'e was wrestlin' with, that's all, as, knowin' our Rastellion, I figgered 'e'd not be likely t' tell ya, but just try t' hold it all inside an' deal it 'imself. Well, now ya know." His smile slips sideways. "Jus' don' tell 'im I told ya, eh?" He cocks his head, listening for voices inside the cabin. "But best we be gettin' back b'fore they come out t' see if maybe we've been eatin' by th' chickens or somethin."
Immalaine turns to Ceolfred, grinning a bit at his quip, the shadow of worry still on her face. "I reckon we should, as Rastellion is eager t' get back t' Bree an' get all this o'er wit'. An' I guess I am too, though I'll have some 'splaining t' do when I get back." She sighs, thinking about the lady Zandrianna, wondering if she'd still be welcome back after taking off so suddenly. "But, if'n they do get more 'ungry," she said, nodding back at the chickens, "ye could always let them 'ave at the lynxes. Mebbe there'd be less o' them."
Ceolfred chuckles, shaking his head as he leads them back to the cabin's door. "Sounds like a game o' chicken golf," he chuckles. "Takin' the birds out on th' lynx." He gestures for her to precede him up the front steps. "Let's go see if they're done."
Twenty minutes later, with the ranger already sent on his way, Rastellion is outside, cinching the straps of his saddle. Immalaine waits beside him, and the two older men stand on the cabin's stoop. "Ride careful now," Ceolfred tells them. "An' not after dark. Not wi' th' downs as they are." Rastellion shakes his head. "I know, uncle, I know." He double checks that the signed papers rest safely in his saddlebags, then starts up the cabin's steps and grasps Ceolfred's hand. "Stay well!" He pauses, then offers the hand to his father. "Pa?" he asks, tentatively.
Cuthberd, takes the offered hand. "Aye you be careful of that la.." he begins, but Ceolfred kicks his ankle, and he amends. "Travel safe." Rastellion nods, his mouth set in a firm line, then turns and walks back down toward Immalaine.
Immalaine smiles up at Rastellion, before turning to the men standing on the steps. Impulsively, she runs up the steps, giving Rastellion's uncle a quick hug, before turning to do the same to Cuthberd, as the man turns beet red and starts sputtering, swearing under his breath. "Take care out 'ere, an' watch out fer lynx kittens. They ain't bright 'nough t' know what's good prey yet." Turning, she heads back down the steps to join Rastellion, eyeing the bags to make sure her bow is secure, nodding in satisfaction. She turns to Rastellion, a twinkle of humor in her eyes as she says, "I'm ready t' go home."
Having mounted his horse by now, he offers a hand to Immalaine to pull her into the saddle in front of him. "Been a long time since I someone get th' best o' him like that," he whispers as he reaches his arms around her to take the reigns. He nods to the two men, then makes a chuffing sound at the horse to encourage her on her way. "Jus'... bring back m' damn money," comes Cuthberd's querulous voice after them. "An' we'll get things back to th' way they should be!"
Immalaine leans back against Rastellion's chest as the horse starts trotting away from the cabin. She smiles and whispers to herself: "An' mebbe they already are."
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
