High in the skies over the valley of Imladris, the sun cast its warming rays over the valley. Within that valley, of course, the infamous house of Elrond, and not far from it, the buildings used by the Grey Repository. And there, within a small guest room, a figure, distinctly female, stirred as it awoke from slumber. The Woman, known to some by the name of Erinwyn, looked sleepily around the finely crafted and decorated room, rubbing her eyes through the gentle use of the index finger and thumb of her right hand. Attempting so, to gain some of her senses. And that's when she had the shock of her life. Next to her, something stirred under the covers. With a jolt, she sat up, a blanket slipped down from her form, revealing... a fully clothed body. A sigh escaped her lips, relief that at least nothing she would later regret happened. Indeed, as her mind began to recall the events of the night prior, she relaxed, realising also who it was that stirred next to her.
They had been up all night, talking. And although her conversational partner had given several implications as to not minding taking their nightly activities beyond talking, she had insisted that she would not condone such behaviour. After all, there were enough lasses out there who readily gave themselves to a Man on a whim, or even worse; an Elf!
So instead, they had talked, until the early hours of the morning, and to her surprised, she had reached a level of understanding of the Man, that she had known from day one was there, but had until that night been unable to reach. A Man who, beneath the veneer of boasting, the teller of tall tales, the illustrious claims, was just another Man. Perhaps more sensitive even, than she had initially given him credit for.
Without awakening him, she rose to her feet and padded quietly across the lush, thick carpet, over to one of the large windows facing the valley below. Rays of golden light illuminated her form – and the unusual garb she wore. A gown. Only in Imladris would she wear something of the sort, out of respect for her hosts, and as a sign that she respected also the customs of not being armed, which normally, she was. To the teeth even.
But not now. Not here. And for once, she felt at peace with that. All too often, had she felt a sense of discomfort, especially when parted with Bertha, her beloved axe. An involuntary smile came to her lips as memories came with the mere thought of the peculiar, ugly, vicious-looking axe. Indeed, most folk, upon hearing the tale, would probably frown and decide that she was not entirely sane. And still... Bertha had been with her, though thick and thin, for better or worse. At the latter thought, she could not help but chuckle softly, instantly then remembering the sleeping figure. With a quick partial turn of her head, she peered into the room. He stirred, but did not waken. A sigh of relief passed her lips. She was not yet ready to be faced with coherent company. Not because of feelings of guilt, there was nothing to feel guilty about after all. But she had grown so accustomed to being alone, a trait that often befell travellers such as herself, that it would have been strange, out of sorts, unnatural. As a result, any conversation would have been forced, in her eyes. And in her opinion, there was scarcely anything worse.
Instead of dwelling, she cast her gaze once more upon the valley below, and as she watched the paths of white in between the greenery, she was reminded of a song once heard in the Shire. A song that had struck her as befitting to not merely her occupation, but her life in general.
Not long thereafter, she found herself humming softly, and indeed, deeming the world directly around her still in a state of slumber, she began to sing. Though not a trained minstrel, her voice still could hold key;
- "The Road goes ever on and on
- Down from the door where it began.
- Now far ahead the Road has gone,
- And I must follow, if I can,
- Pursuing it with eager feet,
- Until it joins some larger way
- Where many paths and errands meet.
- And whither then? I cannot say."
- Behind her, a male voice sounded mildly surprised, and rather sleepy. And definately teasing, though in a friendly form.
- "Another talent? Will you ever stop surprising me?"
