rohan

“There is no rule that troubles only come to us one at a time,” I heard Northgyth say. “Indeed, we have troubles aplenty now. But Yllfa, ah, I must try and unravel the threads that seek to bind her if she is to emerge as the woman she needs to be.”

Related to A Midwinter Lullaby, by Yllfa

“Just a quick word, Bronaa,” Hearrd said, as he walked straight into the Roaring Dragon, one arm supportively around Agnes.

“Mama isn’t here at the moment,” the brown-haired girl replied. She was somewhat taken aback by this interruption of her thoughts.

My eyes fluttered open to a comforting darkness, broken only by the light of one candle some distance from the bed upon which I lay. Someone sat there, watching me. 

“Waelden?” I whispered gruffly, the words tearing at my throat like the raking of claws.

I ride to Bancross, trusted Ealdbriht as my solitary guard. Better one who will stand with me than five, any of whom may stab me in the back. 

Four years have passed since the death of Léofwine and the disappearance of Léofara. Those painful memories are a book with chapters, deep and horrible, and so Mearhe leaves them on the shelf to gather dust. Today she moves in calmness with eyes only for the nature around her, with skin that feels the wind and eyes that open for the light.