Night's darkness had come rapidly. It was early—before the time most families took their evening meals—yet the sun had sunken quickly and, it appeared to Linwen, despondently, into the far western mountains. The moon had been peering out overhead for hours, and now it was clearly outlined by the blackness in the eastern sky. Perhaps the day had ended early because the hot summer was finally winding to a close, but to Linwen, the night's quick approach seemed tense and meaningful.
Her hand shook as she gripped the quill and dipped it into the ink bottle. She was aware that her form was being watched, not only by Bregor, her husband-to-be, but by his surrounding family. She felt no love or acceptance in their gazes, only an anxious sort of eagerness. Their faces seemed frozen in expressions of mock-happiness, illuminated by the light from the candles they grasped. That candlelight also fell on the parchment that awaited her signature. Linwen expelled a ragged breath she hadn't known she was holding.
Bregor, oldest son of Brigend, had already scrawled his name on the adjacent line. His lines were thick and jagged, at one point piercing through the heavy paper. As he had replaced his quill, his eyes had grazed Linwen's form beneath the dress she had taken months to sew for the occasion. Bregor then ran his hand through his bristly hair and tried to meet Linwen's gaze. She had seen this out of the corner of her eye, and her heart had pounded quickly.
Linwen now leaned down, dark hair blocking the candlelight from her face, and placed quill point to paper. Her mind, unbidden, had envisioned this moment many times since her uncle had made the unfortunate marital agreement with Brigend, a member of Fornost's landowning elite. Brigend, though exceedingly wealthy, had for sometime been considered an outsider in Fornost, a town known for its families of rich Numenorean bloodlines. Now that his oldest son was marrying into one such family, Brigend's social standing would be considerably improved. Linwen gained, supposedly, by ensuring her financial well-being; her uncle gained family connections which could soon turn to business connections. She stole a quick glance at her uncle's face. As expected, he sported a self-satisfied smirk as he waited for Linwen to sign away her legal personhood. No doubt he was mentally cataloging the best ways to take advantage of Brigend's considerable financial means.
Linwen's expression grew sour as she imagined her uncle obtaining power at the expense of her freedom. Fleetingly, she wondered if she could gain any influence with the family she was now entering. Perhaps she could convince them of her uncle's absolute incompetence in economical pursuits. She thought wryly of his failed fertilizer distribution business, the tavern that had shut down in just four months, and the doomed investment in his own son's general store. If she could ruin her uncle's stake in her union with Bregor, she supposed it might lessen her pain in having to submit to it.
Linwen had paused for too long. She saw Bregor's mother flit her eyes to her husband's, and his large face became stony as he stared pointedly at the parchment. Linwen wrote her name quickly, the faint lines of ink rapidly absorbing into the paper. When she finished, she felt her stomach drop as if she had missed a stair in the dead of night. She had had no choice. Had she?