I expected to oversleep this morning, given the fullness of the past few days. But alas, here I sit, and it is not yet dawn, though the eastern sky is pale grey through the window. It seems my mind cannot rest when it is running over with so much thought and worry, and only putting my musings to paper seems to bring any inner quiet. I hardly know where to begin...
Jonnathan has returned to Bree. A face I had never expected to see again, after such a long time! More than a year, easily, since I saw him last, and I don't know where he ran off to during that time. I've yet to sit him down and ask, as I only just passed him on the steps outside the Prancing Pony, where he greeted me in his jovial way, and immediately informed me that he'd been shot with an arrow on his way to town! Brigands, it seems, still lurking about the Chetwood, but thankfully, his wound was not serious. Firithain strode up as I spoke with Jonn and it turns out that he was responsible for rushing the poor man to Cesistya to be attended.
It seems odd now, that I did not see Firithain at all yesterday or last night. Odd because he's been such a constant presence, and I felt somewhat small and vulnerable without him around. But he is preparing to leave, and his time is much occupied, and I must get used to the absence.
I enjoyed the escorting company of Aeroden recently, and I'm thankful in hindsight, as it doesn't seem the streets of Bree, or even outside of Bree, are safe for ladies to walk right now; but I'll get into that later. Aeroden has openly embraced his new home and the people around him, with a warmth that is hard for me to comprehend. Such an open heart he is, and has. I have yet to see a glimpse of anything about him that isn’t kind and gentle. I had not brought Jack with me that evening, so we walked the Road together, arm in arm. I wonder if that is a custom of Gondor, to always offer your arm to a lady. I must ask him about it sometime, as it was quite curious to me the first few times he held out his arm, and of course, I felt my cheeks grow warm to take a man’s arm in such a fashion. But he has such an easy, calm way about him, and there is nothing remotely untoward or flirtatious in his manner, so it has become easier now. As we passed the area near the marshes, and the land opened up, we stopped and beheld the stars overhead, and he pointed out a constellation to me. He has offered to tutor me if I wish, since I am woefully unlearned about many areas of the world, and it is rather thrilling to have someone nearby who knows more than I do. To think that I could ask someone to tell me about the signs of the stars and receive an answer! There was a moment, I think, where his head seemed to draw close to mine, while he pointed to the sky, and when I looked at him, his cheeks seemed to have darkened in color. I found it rather surprising and endearing, though I daresay, it is because he is such a respectable and civil gentleman, and nothing more than that.
There is more news yet... incredible news that I long to shout...but it must wait. I have so much yet to recount from yesterday. But first I must back up a little...
The same night that I saw Jonn and Firithain outside the Pony, I also passed Ashwyneth and Briony. A man had been lurking about as well, a dour and hard-faced creature who stood against the wall and had spoken rather insultingly to Eldryssa the night before, though I was not close enough to overhear every word. But none of this is truly important! What is important is that this man allegedly visited Owena’s bakery a few evenings ago, and there had the audacity to commit a robbery! The horror is almost too much to bear! Owena, of all people, the kindest and friendliest soul one can imagine, with a madman thrashing about her place of business, destroying the entire place with a hatchet, she says, and making off with her hard-earned coin! There aren’t enough thanks to be given that he did not lay a hand on her and harm her. But even more troubling and peculiar, is that he approached Briony not long after, and gave her some odd and threatening words that made little sense. Some ranting about the “elite” of Bree, and the way the poor are treated. What does such a thing even mean? No one in Bree is what one would call “wealthy”, really. And if one were to target an oppressor of the poor, it would not be Owena! She may be well to do compared to some, but that is her family’s business, it is not a result of greed or corruption. She works her hands to the bone, and she is kind and generous and gives freely!
I could go on and on, but then I will never get this writing finished. The man was arrested, thank goodness, and put on trial yesterday. I was called forward to speak, which I was not expecting, and I was most nervous and uncomfortable, for I hate trouble, tension, and anxious situations, and the air of the town hall was thick with it. Owena spoke bravely on her own behalf, and I observed that Loakee and his brother, Baldvin, stayed close to her. I was not aware that there was any sort of friendship or affection there, but it appears to be, something I find quite curious, but certainly had no time to think about. A dark-skinned man spoke as well, and offered testimony most damning against the accused man. But the worst of all was dear Briony, who went forward to speak and seemed terrified that folk might think she had done something wrong, as the accused had tried to approach her and sway her to his cause with coin and persuasive words, which she admirably resisted. She sat back down and sobbed into my shoulder, worried that she would lose her position and be unable to find work, having had her name thrust into a public scandal. Ashwyneth and I both reassured as best we could. My heart bled for the girl, and I have made a vow to myself that I will do whatever I must to see her avoid any ruin.
The man was sentenced to banishment and exile, and cannot safely set foot within the gates of Bree again, though there are rumored whispers that he has threatened various folk, and now a fear is in the air. He was taken out of the town hall to be punished with branding and flogging, and I had no desire to follow and witness such cruelties. Even when deserved, I take no pleasure in seeing a man in pain.
And now, it is difficult to move from a topic so heavy and troublesome, into one much more joyful. But I must do!
Penlard - my dear, darling friend - is not only still alive, but has returned to Bree-land!! Oh, the circumstances that brought this about are awful, and I don’t yet have all the details, though I hope to see him very soon and hear his story from his own lips. But more surprising still, is that I was given this news by Hamadryt, the handsome young Rohir who I have met here and there, but I don’t know him well at all. There was a letter that he found in the Sizzling Turtle, addressed to me, and in his curiosity, he read it. An action that would draw much ire and indignation, but in retrospect, he likely saved me from a terrible fate. A wicked man had taken Penlard’s beloved son and was threatening his life, and Penlard, being the noble and selfless man that he is, was going to try and recover him by offering himself in his son’s place. Tragically, his son could not be saved in time, and now his father is recovering from injuries of his own, his life spared only by the courageous actions of Hamadryt, who selflessly tracked them down, going far and above any duty or oath he holds. Why this man acted with such bravery on behalf of another is still a mystery to me. He said that he wished to spare me any further grief, knowing that I had been through such a terrible loss so recently, and perhaps that is all of the truth of it. But I am curious now, to know more of this man, who would do such a thing for someone else. Perhaps he will remain in Bree long enough for us to know him better, and for me to find some way to thank him.
My hand is cramped after writing so much. The sun is up now, and I must find some breakfast and get on. Let us hope today will be a bit more peaceful.
