Opening the letter that had been left for her with Barliman, Marnewyn settled down to give it a good read. The publican hadn't known the person who brought it, and didn't really remember much about him. A "road-worn traveller" was all he really had to say on the matter.
She broke the seal with one hand, opening it up as she sipped from her ale. Her brows rose. "Seems the girl's lettering has improved quite a bit." The surprised utterance was nearly at a full volume, but she quieted then as her eyes scanned the contents.
Dear Marnewyn,
I'm not sure when or how this will reach you, or even where I'll be when I find a messenger. I've made enough nuisance of myself across the Anduin that leaving the Wold seemed a good idea, to avoid the temptation to keep stirring up the blue-robes to the east. Not such a great idea when they're already looking for me. The activity I've been causing over there is starting to maybe be getting me the stink-eye in Harwick, too.
So, I've been travelling the Mark again. Thought about stopping in Woodhurst to see Mister Leoffrith's aunties, but I'm not sure how well that would go without him along, no matter how nice they were to me before. Or his one sister, Aelfwyn, either, who has to be even busier with children now. I went further south this time, instead. I've seen Edoras, and – from a distance – even the Meduseld. Impressive enough, and in the main tavern by the front gates I even ran into people I know. No, not from the Mark – from Bree. I saw Miss Syaven and Miss Brynleigh. Of course, they're both from the Mark, so finding them "back home" shouldn't be such a surprise, but to run into them the same night was. And Mister Crow, too, after so long a time, though he's more of a wanderer, I reckon.
And as time goes by, I keep adding to this, while I still have room, and I've not found a messenger yet. I might here, though. I'm in a sort of port-town name of Fréasburg, hard by the Isen. Yes, I'm all the way across the Mark now, maybe further from Langhold and Harwick than even Dol Amroth would have been. They have a faire of sorts here every moon or so, almost managing some peaceful trade even with the Dunlendings, or so they say. It's more of a military outpost than most cities here, but it's still nice enough. And being a trading-town, this might be where I finally manage to get this sent. I'd sign it here, but you already know who's writing, and what if I need to add more? Anyway, despite my wandering, Harwick is still the most likely place to reach me if you find someone to carry a letter down here. Well, and are so inclined.
Being as I might get this sent, finally, though – please do give people my news and appropriate greetings and regards. I'm not sure who is still there, considering how many I've been seeing down here, but I reckon Lady Cesistya and Mister Leoffrith are, and I can hope Audea has been seen some again, and my name-aunt, of course, if she is still in the area, and you two aren't at fisticuffs again.
The letter ended there, so clearly she'd found her messenger while still in Fréasburg – which was a new name to the older woman reading the letter. She looked up, and about the taproom, and sighed. She'd have to convey the messages later, as none of the intended recipients was around at the moment. But she'd be back soon enough.
