As the two round a bend in the road at the top of a slope, another abandoned farm comes into view. Rastellion slows, then stops, his horse and just stares for a few moments. The early afternoon sun highlights the untilled fields, and a faint breeze rattles mournfully through the leaves of the trees overhead.
Looking over the farm where they stopped, Immalaine stared at it for a moment, before turning her head. "This was your old farm, weren't it?" she said as she looked at the field, that very much matched the description she had gotten from a couple of people she'd talked to when she had inquired around about the location of Rastellion's family.
Rastellion heaves a deep sigh. "Aye. Grew up here, playing on those slopes and climbing those rocks. Used t' be more fields too." He gestures down the hill, where scrub and small saplings have started to reclaim once-cultivated land.
He urges Whitey into motion again. "Th' well should still be good. We can refill our skins."
Immalaine slides off of Rastellion's horse collecting the empty skins. Lowering the bucket into the well, she waits to hear the splosh as it hits the water, counting a few moments for the bucket to fill, before pulling it back up again. As she fills the skins from the bucket, she looks around at the fields laying dormant with a sigh.
Following her lead, he slides out of the saddle too as Immalaine draws the water, looking around at the abandoned farm. "There'd still be life in it," he says, "if we had the workers. And no orcs." He frowns, kicking at the dry soil and shaking his head. "Doesn't seem much, now, compared to th' land around Breetown."
"T'is no sight t' see, lands unable t' be tended. Houses unable t' be lived in ... places burnt ..." her voice stutters, and she falls silent as she caps the skins, returning them to Rastellion so he can fasten them once more to Whitey.
He fastens the waterskins to the saddle, then leads Whitey toward the abandoned farmhouse, looking around as he does, the shadows of memory flitting over his face.
A wolf wanders in the distance, and she turns her head to Rastellion. "E'en th' animals dun seem t' know what t' do with themselves out 'ere now." Shaking her head, she leans against an old fence that was now battered and falling in from disrepair. "I can see now why yer not eager t' come back here."
He looks over at her torn, internal conflict shadowing his eyes as he shakes his head. "Was a fine farm. One of th' better ones in these parts. Were happy here... once." He starts walking again. "Not that you'd know it t' see th' place now. C'mon. Something I got t' do...."
Rastellion continues past the house, giving it only a brief glance, and across an adjoining field to its far corner. Laying Whitey's reigns across the warped fence rails, he turns to Immalaine. "Watch her for a moment?" he asks, before pulls free the small bundle of downs wildflowers that he's been gathering as they ride, and walks the several yards to the clearing's edge
There, on a small grassy rise, half ringed by trees, a large, flat stone has been half-buried in the earth, crude letters painstakingly chipped into it. Rastellion kneels beside it, brushing off dried leaves, and laying his shabby bundle of flowers on top of it. He stays like that for several long moments, head bowed, before standing and returning to where Immalaine waits.
Watching as Rastellion heads towards the edge of the clearing, Immalaine shades her face with her hand as he stops and places the flowers down on top of a small stone, bowing. Turning away for a moment, to give him some privacy, she looks at the burnt homestead instead. Memories wash over her, buried in the back of her mind, as Rastellion's home fades away, replaced by another farm, in another place Closing her eyes, her mind conjures the smell of burning wood and crops, and the sounds of men screaming as she was carried away from all of her childhood comforts and dreams. Lost in her past, she doesn't hear Rastellion come up behind her until he lays his hand on her shoulder. She turns back to him and sees tears shining in his eyes.
"T'is yer ma's restin' place then? I ... I'm sorry Rastellion. Truly I am." She reaches out and hugs him, as she looks over at the simple grave.
Rastellion pulls her close, his grip suddenly tight and desperate, and he just stands there like that for a few moments. He takes a deep, wavering breath. "Been years. I scarce remember her." He looks back over his shoulder to the site. "Mostly... well, I wonder how different things'd've been if she..." He trails of and shakes his head. "But wishes grow no crops."
Looking around at Rastellion's old home, she purses her lips as as her mind slips back into the pas. "It's so much ..." she takes a breath, a tear rolling down her cheek, "I still 'member some nights, in me sleep, the smell as me pa's farm started burnin'. Jus' like it were yesterday." Looking up at Rastellion, she reaches up to touch his cheek as he turns back to look down at her.
He puts his hand against hers, on his cheek. "You never did tell me much 'bout that," he says, "jus' that th' place was burned, and you th' only one o' your family t' escape..."
"It's been a long time, but I still can recall runnin' through the fields o' wheat, smellin' th' hay and grass as I played outside." She closes her eyes, resting her head against his chest as she continues. "I 'member hearin' th' farmhands call out t' one 'nother as they worked in th' fields, gatherin' th' harvest so me pa could bring it t' market. There's so many things as I can recall, sometimes I see them in me sleep, and then I wake an' realize it's all gone."
Tightening his embrace, Rastellion attempts to ease her sorrow. "Well, yer makin' a new life for yerself in Bree, now. Who's t' say y' won't have all that again some day?"
Immalaine nods, leaning back to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. "Mebbe one day," she says, unconvinced, nodding up at him as she kisses his cheek. "But fer now, only thing I should be worryin' o'er is us gettin' to Trestlebridge afore night."
"Aye. This ain't a good place t' be spending the nights any more." He steps over to Whitey, helps Immalaine, then mounts up behind her. "Time t' move on."
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
