Brynleigh stands a little way off from the other women of the city, who come and go with their various baskets and pails of clothes and soap along the river's edge. Her hands are empty, loosely draped together over her stomach while she gazes thoughtfully at the flowing water.
Dytha was barely listening to the woman she walked with, but she was practiced at nods and polite "hmms." She carried the older woman's basket on her hip, her bronze ring of keys swaying from her tablet-woven belt. Her companion chatted away, pausing only to answer Dytha's questions about where the woman wanted the basket set or which clothes she should get to washing first.
Brynleigh hardly registers a set of new voices arriving upon the scene, but she turns her head to give an idly curious glance. The listless look shifts into one of recognition, and she turns slightly to watch the familiar figure of Dytha from afar.
Dytha picked her way down the shore, looking for a dry enough spot so she would not have to help the woman wade through the ford. Finding a perch of pebbles she spread a cloth on the ground and knelt on it, saving her skirts from looking too much like the basketload.
Brynleigh observes in quiet stillness for a time, before slowly strolling her path along the riverbank, drawing gradually closer to the young woman and her companion. She halts still some distance away, not wishing to intrude, but if Dytha should look in her direction, a polite smile is ready to be offered.
Dytha glanced up and caught the blue-eyed gaze. The young Lady smiled, then rolled her eyes, teasing the poor woman behind her gabbing away.
Brynleigh blinks as Dytha suddenly looks up and their eyes meet. Surprised by the immediate candor, she echoes the smile with a wide grin, lifting a hand to hide a tiny chuckle. Emboldened, she moves a little closer, and if a lull can be found in the woman's chattering, she says quietly, "Lady Dytha."
Dytha |"Miss Brynleigh!" she exclaimed, her voice skipping across the water. The older woman blinked at the itnerruption, and Dytha took the chance and ran with it. "Brynleigh, how good to see you. Yes, of course I'll walk with you. It's been so long. Aelfgida," she turned to her 'friend.' "Why don't you go visit Lady Shif downstream? I'll come fetch you when I've finished and caught up with my old friend here."
Brynleigh flutters her eyes a few times, taken aback by Dytha's abrupt speech. But she catches on quickly, and subtly tries to conceal the smirk that plays about her lips. She turns her eyes to the woman Dytha calls Aelfgida, and gives a polite bow of her head. "Good day, ma'am."
Dytha |The older woman nodded, and before she could be introduced to the young horse-healer, was shuffled off down the bank by her enthusiastic aid. Once out of earshot, Dytha turned to Brynleigh with all but a handful of the energy she'd displayed moments before drained out of her. "Thank you."
Brynleigh allows herself a gentle laugh aloud now. "What was that all about?" Her feet close the rest of the distance between them.
Dytha bent to wash the soap-suds from her hands and toweled them off on her skirts. "Lady Aelfgida is a distant relation. A *very* distant relation, but somehow still close enough that my father wants me in her graces so...here I am. She's a lovely lady, most of the time, but honestly I needed at least a moment to get away."
Brynleigh lifts her chin to peer past the young woman's head, looking towards the retreating form of the other lady. "Ah, I see," she murmurs, and her head nods slowly before her blue eyes return to Dytha. "I certainly understand the trials of trying to stay in a father's good graces." She smiles gently, glancing down at the remains of her chore. "Would you like some help?"
Dytha shook her head, though her gaze caught on the basket overflowing with the older woman's backstock of dresses and table linens, and her smile faded. "It would, of course, be rude of me to refuse," she teased.
Brynleigh hovers in place, looking between Dytha and the clothes a few times, trying to determine whether she was joking or in earnest. "So, do...you want...me to help?"
Dytha sighed heavily. "No, no. She'll look over here and wonder why I sent her away to speak with you. Probably won't let me rest the night without pestering me what gossip we've traded." She put her hands on her hips and nudged the basket up the bank, away from the water. "This can wait. Would you like to walk?"
Brynleigh gives another soft chuckle. "Oh! Well, all right then. We don't want any pestering, do we?" She straightens her spine and nods. "Certainly, it's a beautiful evening. Lead on!"
Dytha smoothed out her skirts and made sure she still had her keys and six-inch seax on her belt. She turned and led Brynleigh slowly up the bank. "How are you?" she finally asked. "I saw you briefly a few weeks ago. I didn't think you came to Edoras that often, or do you live here now?"
Brynleigh draws a deep breath, gaining a few precious seconds to ponder her reply. "I am well," she says politely, and not entirely convincingly. "Yes, I remember seeing you in the meadhall. I was just as surprised to see you so far east! I've been coming throughout the summer to aid with training some horses in the city." She meanders comfortably beside the woman, her leather shoes crunching in the moist gravel. "I still have a cottage in Snowbourn, though I wouldn't say either city is home."
Dytha shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Too hot for sword-work, I guess. It's quiet at the Fords. Well, more quiet than usual."
Brynleigh gave her a sidelong look. "Does that bode well or not?" she asks quietly.
Dytha chuckled, the sound oddly gray for the bright sky. "It will be quiet until it isn't. When there's less field-work, there will be more war." In the same moment, the shadow over her face was gone, and she was fair and golden again. "Snowbourn is not your home? Where do you call yours? Or would you, if you could?"
Brynleigh continues to study the young woman's face while they walk, until the toe of her shoe catches on a pebble and she stumbles, but does not fall. She gives a tiny yelp as she regains her footing and they walk on. "Ah, I was born not far from here, in fact. Just a few miles beyond the city gates. I suppose that is as close to home as I can be now. Though, no place feels like I belong in it. And hasn't for some time."
Dytha 's hand darted out, instinct making her grab for the woman's elbow. She stopped, brow puckered. "You alright?"
Brynleigh pauses as Dytha does, flushing in embarrassment. Her hand instinctively moves to grasp Dytha's forearm in turn. "Yes, yes, I'm fine," she chortles. "Just not watching where I'm going!"
Dytha glanced down and kicked the offending stone into the water. After a hearty 'plunk' it sank to its death. "Well," she said and turned up where the bank flattened out to grassland. "Are you looking for somewhere?" she asked with genuine interest. "Some feel most at home when they have nowhere to settle."
Brynleigh twitches slightly in surprise at the violent punishment for the bothersome rock, and then she chuckles. She turns back to trail behind the woman again, moving up the gentle slope. "I suppose I...yes, I am," she says with more certainty. "In fact, I thought to take to the road soon and see where fate and chance lead me."
Dytha nodded, that peculiar, disgruntled gloom creeping back in under her pale brows. "Fate seems to keep dragging me back here." She stared up at the Golden Hall for a long moment as they walked. "Even from this distance it's huge."
Brynleigh follows the woman's eyes, gazing at the distant hall in all its twilit glory. Then she turns to regard Dytha thoughtfully. "You don't seem happy about this. Being here. Why?"
Dytha |"Bah," she exclaimed in a soft mimicry of a particular older, grit-throated warlord. "There's no glory in talk, and that's all they allow up there."
Brynleigh smiles faintly, looking again at the golden hall on the hill. "You crave something more than talk."
Dytha chuckled. "Don't you?" She glanced side-eyed at the woman beside her. "You keep looking for something, clearly. Something more than chatter."
Brynleigh grins again, clasping her hands together as they stroll. "Well, yes. I wouldn't like to be kept inside and expected to do nothing but cook and clean. I enjoy work. Hard work, even. Though I get the sense that you crave even more than that. Am I wrong?"
Dytha tilted her chin up, denying the meadhall her gaze as she looked out to where the river sank into the hills. "Of course not."
Brynleigh smiles gently in contrast to Dytha's steely expression. "Does your father wish you to take a less dangerous path in life?"
Dytha laughed, the sound skimming across the river. "He is the one who set me on it."
Brynleigh glances down at the loamy soil beneath their feet. "But he sends you to Edoras to...?" Her voice trails off, inviting Dytha to fill in the blank.
Dytha looked over at Brynleigh, her tilted grin making her eyebrow arc. "Why so curious? I must say you have not met nor heard of my father if you have so many questions about him."
Brynleigh blinks, looking a little sheepish, her pale cheeks taking on a faint, rosy hue. "I have! I met him in Grimslade. A long time ago now, it seems..." She goes quiet and thoughtful, then blinks again and returns to the present. "I'm sorry if my questions are intrusive."
Dytha watched her a little longer until she settled on a smile. "Nothing to be sorry for," she muttered kindly. "Edoras makes me stiff and prickly. It's too hot. There's no shade." She wipes away sweat where it had seaped under her collarbone. "Even the riverwater is warm."
Brynleigh chuckles suddenly, and the sound continues, swelling into a sweet little laugh that bobs her shoulders. "Aye!" she chortles. "It is that! I dislike how bare the streets are. No proper trees! It is grand enough to look upon, but I much prefer the fields and forests."
At this point, Brynleigh and Dytha emerge upon two others who had been talking the same while, but in softer voices and out of sight.
Wandering gets up and dusts her worn-out robes "This has been pleasant. Been long since sitting and listen in company. I thank you."
Aeruthuil snaps out of his thoughts and instinctively rises to his feet. ''Ah.. Yes, I hope so..'' He mumbles, furrowing his brows as he looks at her.
Dytha nodded, gaze drifting on the tide of other thoughts. "Have you ever been to the north of Rhovanion? To Dale or its environs?"
Wandering smiles "Maybe we can do again soon, if you are here." She brings the palm of her hands together by her chest and offers a deep bow "Firsenu si wie. Fortune be with you."
Aeruthuil bows his head to her, nodding after, ''I might, though not sure for how much longer. Be well.''
Wandering nods in understanding "Then I will hope, Aeruthuil." Having nothing else to add she makes her way to the road, minding where her bare feet land. Looking down the river she gives the two women in the distance a smile.
Brynleigh suddenly notices the two nearby figures rising to their feet, having been concealed by the riverbank before. The tall, dark cloak draws a pause, and her forehead tenses. "I...n-no..." she answers distractedly, before looking back at Dytha. "Not so far north. Though I did visit the Beorning lands once."
Dytha glanced to the second snag in Brynleigh's pathway, and her frown deepened. She only just caught the second stranger's smile and returned it with a nod.
Brynleigh looks after the retreating, white-garbed figure with a puzzled expression. Something about her was oddly familiar, though she did not think further on it at the moment. "Do you wish to go north?" she asks Dytha.
Aeruthuil grunts a little as he steps up the small slope, staring into the distance before he starts to wander off.
Dytha 's mood changed as if she'd spotted instead of the grey cloak a thundercloud. "No," she answered abruptly. "I should return to my washing." She turned, then before she could forget all manners, she reached to touch Brynleigh's hand, pushing away the shadow for a moment to smile. "I hope fate doesn't take you away too quickly. I would like to talk with you more again, soon."
Brynleigh has returned her eyes to the distant and shrinking figure of Aeruthuil. Her brow is tight and the corners of her lips turned down. She jumps slightly at Dytha's touch. "Oh. Yes. Of course." She clears her throat and nods, turning in the same direction. "I should return to my own errands as well." She sucks in a deep breath and sighs, trying to smile again. "I hope we'll talk again as well. It was a pleasure, Lady Dytha."
Dytha bowed her head, then gave the woman's palm a quick squeeze, then turned away to return to her basket. It wouldn't occur to her until later why the woman had reacted strangely to who Dytha had assumed was a different, though just as reclusive grey-cloaked Randir. As she scrubbed at her older relation's dresses, questions executed pirouettes out of sync in her mind, and no matter how much she slapped the cloth against the wet rocks, she could not get them out.
Brynleigh returns the gentle press of Dytha's fingers, offering a somber but genuine smile, before releasing her and slowly making her way back along the path towards the city gates. Now and then, she peers over her shoulder, not towards the river, but along the length of the bank.
Chat Log: General 07/16
