The land seemed gentler somehow as they rode north and west now, slowly leaving the wide-open plains behind. Winter's claim was finally broken, and though a chill lingered in the air, the grass was already flushed with pale green, and every thicket they passed was alive with the soft chirpings and fluttering wings of birds readying for the nesting season.
The first morning of their journey passed in a silence that bordered on comfortable, though Aldwyn's sharp, green eyes still shifted to the young woman beside him every few minutes. Perhaps it was a habit by now. Making sure she was still present, still with him, not falling back into the dark fugues of her grief that had threatened her very life. She was eating a little better, but was still far too thin, her face too pale, her sapphire-blue eyes still rimmed with shadows from too little sleep.
"You sent the letters, did you not?" She broke the quiet with her soft, airy voice.
The broad-shouldered, rusty-haired man beside her gave an abrupt cough, as if unprepared to converse. "Aye," he said roughly, clearing his throat. "'Course I did."
She nodded faintly at his reply. Just as she had done upon her departure, letters had been sent onward to Ramield and Leoffrith, informing them of her impending return, and reassuring them that she now traveled with the trustworthy presence of Aldwyn.
"Aldwyn," she went on, her voice still faint, as if speaking too loudly were a frightening reminder that she was alive and not a fading shadow. "I've been thinking..."
"Aye? Go on, lass."
A minute or so passed before she found the will to say more. The sound of briskly walking hooves, creaking leather, and the jangle of horse track provided a pleasant accompaniment to the pause.
"What if...what if there's a letter? When I get home?" she finally ventured.
"A letter?" he echoed. "What sort of letter?"
Her head bowed towards her chest, and the gossamer curtain of her hair fell forward, concealing part of her face. "...from the quarry folk."
Aldwyn frowned slightly in confusion. "I don't get it. What would they be writing to you..." He stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging open. "Wait. Brynleigh." He glanced over at her. "No. No." His head shook firmly from side to side. "No. Don't do this to yourself."
"But if there were some word while I was away...," she replied carefully, still avoiding his gaze.
Beside her, Aldwyn had pressed his lips tightly shut and was continuing to shake his head. "No," he repeated. "That's enough." He turned and pinned his stare on her now, though she wasn't looking up. "I mean it." His voice took on a hard edge. "I've not sat here and watched you flirting with Death for nothing. You're not going to do this to me. Not to me or your other friends." His eyes bored into her as she hid behind her hair. "You hear me? I got you here and I'll get you home, and you're not going to sit there and fester on some empty hope that'll crush you into dust when you get back and there's no letter from anyone."
His words seemed to hang like an echo, thickening the air between them. At length, she lifted her head again, and wiped a hand across her cheeks. The sight of her tears seemed to soften him once more.
"Didn't we say it was time to move on?" he queried in a gentler tone. "Didn't we say the best thing to do was remember him and love him by getting on with life?"
"Aye. We did." Her voice was scarcely a whisper, but she reached over then and took his hand. His expression was one of surprise, but he readily wrapped his big fingers around hers and gave a squeeze.
"What will you do when we get to Bree?" she asked, looking ahead towards the looming trees that lined the river and marked the northern border of Rohan.
Her question seemed to bring him out of a daze, and her hand was gently released. "I hadn't thought too much on it. What do you want me to do, hmm? Go on my way and stop hovering like an old hen?" He chuckled deep in his chest.
A faint flicker of a smile passed over her lips. "That's not how I see you. I...I don't think I'd be alive right now, if not for you." Her eyes shifted to his face briefly before falling away again.
An uncharacteristic flush of color appeared behind the ruddy beard on Aldwyn's cheeks, and he cleared his throat loudly. He adjusted the reins in his hands, leaned over to shift his boots within the stirrups, glanced up at the sky as if checking for rain.
Brynleigh was watching him now. A subtle glint of amusement seemed to shine in her deep, blue eyes. Aldwyn glanced over at her, saw her expression, and immediately looked away again, embarrassed.
A strange sound was heard then. So soft it was difficult to say if it were real. But when he dared to look at her again, it was all too clear by the smile that was dawning over her drawn, pale features.
She had laughed.
