Dear Edwyn,
Forgive me for not writing earlier, we've been quite busy here doing the King of Men's will, protecting the people of Gondor and the freed denizens of Nurn from an Orcish resurgence. It is good work, and I am proud to do it, and no one can question my honor for doing it.
Finnan stared at the parchement, tapping his quill for a moment. In a burst of frustration, Finnan snatched at the costly paper and crumpled it, tossing it near the wastebasket with the other rejected, aborted attempts to write lies to the man he loved. He dropped his head into his hands, realizing now that the peace of mind he'd found during the War was forever lost. He couldn't be the Man he was rescuing villagers from an Uruk onslaught; he could not even grasp for that Man. Yet he loathed the caged, fearful Man that proximity to his family turned him into.
I have hidden my true self for so long, I don't think I can ever find it, Finnan thought, feeling hollow and empty.
"Captain Finnan," a soft, accented female voice called from outside the tent.
"Enter," Finnan said, hardly looking up. Their base camp now was near the Sea of Nurn and far enough away from the hardened lava flow that there was some fodder for the horses. Finnan had been amazed how quickly a simple soldier's camp had turned into a veritable city, as Sauron's freed slaves and stragglers from all over the southlands came to seek opportunity with the wealthy knights in King Elessar's service.
The Haradrim female slid Finnan's supper tray silently onto his desk. When she didn't immediately leave, Finnan looked up with expectant eyes.
The woman was not terribly young; perhaps a few years older than Finnan himself. With her bronze skin, long sleek black hair, and almond eyes, she was quite an exotic beauty. She was also a painted whore. "Is there anything else I could do for you, Captain?" she asked in her breathy voice, a slim finger slipping over the low-cut neck of her gauzy purple dress.
"No, Sirhani," Finnan said curtly. "You may go."
But she did not go. Looking coyly from her kohl-darkened eyes she asked, "Maybe I bring something else to please you, then? I have a brother, very young, very pretty—"
"What?" Finnan sputtered, horrified. "What are you suggesting, you… you abominable woman!"
Sirhani smiled slyly. "Some like apples, some like oranges, yes? I am no fool, Captain. But if you say no…"
Finnan gaped at the woman in appalled silence. Sirhani shrugged, as if it made no difference to her. "You are a wealthy Man, are you not? Should you not do as you please, as mighty Men do?"
"I don't… I don't fuck… boys."
"Of course not," Sirhani said. "White Men do not do those things."
With trembling fingers, Finnan reached into the leather pouch at his belt. He pulled out a gold coin, watching the whore's big, black-lined eyes widen impossibly large. She reached out for it, but Finnan held it back. "We most certainly do not."
Sirhani rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course. As I said. You need not worry about me, Captain. I am a very loyal woman."
"Hmph. For the right price, you'd sell your cunny to an Orc. But this ought to buy me a little relief from your incessant… offerings."
He dropped the heavy coin into her outstretched hands, noting that she had somehow painted a beautiful, swirling design of flowers with a brown ink onto her tawny palms. He wondered treasonously if her brother was as beautiful as she was. A Man of wealth, Finnan thought bitterly. It should be so easy.
Sirhani swept a little bow. "Come find me if you change your mind, Captain. Quite skilled, my little brother. But of course, very innocent, very clean."
"Why do you say this to me?" Finnan asked, swallowing his anger for a moment to make room for his terror. "Have you heard some malicious gossip?"
"No," Sirhani purred. "It's the way you look at me. Not like another woman might, but not like a Man who wants to fuck me."
Finnan laughed harshly. "You have a rather high opinion of yourself, madam, if you think that any Man who wouldn't want you would want a boy."
Sirhani shrugged lightly. "I've done this business for long enough to know what Men like."
Finnan took a sip of his ale. Then, changing his mind, he took a longer sip from the decanter of brandy on his desk. "Tell me, Sirhani… Does your… your brother… Does he do business in this camp?"
Sirhani widened her eyes in mock outrage. Grunting with slight amusement, Finnan procured another gold coin, and gave it to the woman. She smiled a seductive smile and said, "He has several admirers, Captain. But I do not tell names. And of course, he is very innocent…"
"Yes, you've stated that already," Finnan said, shaking his head. He waved his hand in dismissal. "Go on, get out of here. And keep your musings concerning me-which are wrong-to yourself."
As soon as she left, Finnan took another gulp of brandy. He was stunned, not knowing what to think. Was he in danger of being exposed? And who were the Men—knights like him!—spending the night with Sirhani's brother?
But most of all, it was her gentle admonishment that he ought to live as he pleased that rung through Finnan's mind. As if that was possible. Sirhani doesn't know where I come from. She doesn't know how my family could lose…
Could lose what, exactly? There is no law violated! No one is harmed! Who has the right to say anything about my affairs?
Getting good and drunk, Finnan produced another piece of parchment, readied another pot of ink.
Dearest Edwyn,
I should not have left things as they were. You might think I had nothing to say to you, but that was a deception on my part. I have been a coward, I have been living as a criminal, in hiding, in secret, and I cannot bear it any longer. But my feelings for you are not a crime. In my terror I allowed the most important thing slip away from me. Truthfully, I don't wish to live any life that you are not a part of.
I regret coming here. We do not engage in honorable battle so much as run down the helpless. It is strange to think of Orcs as helpless, but here they truly are. They are trying to live and hide on land that has been blasted by evil and ash and rivers of fire. They are starving, they are burdened with females and young, and we are ordered to dispatch them all. On several occasions the males made such stands—while attempting to allow their females and young an escape—as Men might consider brave and honorable. While they are not Men of any sort, it is a hard thing to kill females, but sometimes they give a good fight, which makes it somewhat more tolerable, even as I know they have no chance against me. Still, they served the Enemy, and as such are just as guilty as the males. So it is proper to destroy them. Yet to kill the little Orcs, some so obviously newborn and assuredly innocent of any crime, is something that I can only hope never to become accustomed to. I do my duty, and I remind myself that they will grow in only a few years into the very creatures that caused Men such harm during the War. And I cannot leave my post, most of all because I have no where else to go.
I am not ready to return to Birchleigh. The village chokes me, my life is like a cage. I feel my father's shade all around me, I can still hear his shame and abuse in my ears. I have always longed to be the sort of son he would be proud of, but that can never be. At what point does a Man give up on trying to please his parents, and learn to please himself? I am afraid I nearly forgot what made me happy, those brief months where I was, for once in my life, truly happy. And I am afraid I caused harm to others, you especially, as I struggled with my own darkness.
As far as Lady Birchleigh… I do wonder if she is well. If you have kept her location secret from me, I cannot blame you. I was going to kill her. But though the law would call me just for doing so, I realize now that I would not want to end her life. She never asked to be brought into my troubles, and she is, from what I know of her, an emotional and highly spirited young girl. While her choices are nauseating to me, I must ask myself how I might have pushed her to it, and failed to protect her from it. I am glad to know that soldiers are watching my lands for me, because wherever he who seduced her came from, it must have been somewhere close by. Guard my land, Edwyn, if you are still there. And if you know where Halla is, guard her as well. Don't let her destroy herself, and tell her that if she wishes it, we can reconcile, and find some way to live together in peace.
As I hope you and I can reconcile. I will not hide anymore. I will strive to live my life as I please, and no longer harm others in my grief as I attempt to be a Man that I am not. I may not deserve your forgiveness and affection, but I would beg you for it.
All of my love,
Finnan
In the darkness of the grey dawn, Finnan rose with a pounding headache and a sour mouth. Stumbling about, he lit his oil lamp, and then his attention was caught by the letter laid out on his desk for anyone to see. He cringed in horror, remembering Sirhani. His blurry eyes swept over the letter he wrote in a loose, drunken hand. How could he send such a thing? Anyone else reading it would know not only that he disdained the King's service, nor that he had been cuckolded, but that he was an unrepentant homosexual!
He snatched up the letter and began to tear it. But then, some small part of him rebelled. It was a terrifying feeling, but it grew in strength and determination so that he could not ignore it. Sirhani was right, even if it seemed impossible in the clear light of dawn to live his life as he pleased.
Finnan folded the letter tightly, and buried it at the bottom of his trunk.
Ailith's tavern was a great success. Finally pleased to be known for something other than her past, Ailith's confidence grew, and her laughter was not such a foreign sound in the tavern anymore. It pleased Edwyn to hear it when he came in, and he was glad to see Ailith chatting easily with Maybel and several of the other village women. It seemed the young woman had found some measure of acceptance… though, he noted, she still hadn't married that poor smitten carpenter!
"My lord Edwyn," Ailith greeted him, traces of lovely pride in her face. "I had a feeling you'd visit us tonight. I've kept your regular table open." She beckoned a passing serving girl, and ordered Edwyn's usual drink, house soup, and baked potato with butter and cheese.
Ailith saw Edwyn seated, standing back as the girl brought over his spiced ale. "Fetch me another, sweeting," Edwyn said to the girl. He looked up at Ailith. "I must speak to you. Please, sit for a moment."
"I shouldn't drink at work…"
"You own the place. And you might be glad for the drink."
Ailith dropped onto the comfortable cushioned chair, her silvery-blue eyes wide. "Dear Bema, you've found her body," she breathed beneath the din of happy conversation, clanking mugs, and sizzling specialty dishes.
"No; but she is in some danger, and I would help her as much as I can."
"She was in danger the moment that beast laid eyes on her. I doubt there is anything you can do now."
Her eyes had turned hard and cold by the time the serving wench left her ale. This will be difficult, Edwyn thought. Better approach it slowly.
"Ailith, tell me first how you are. You do well here, it seems. Are you happy?"
"Happy enough, my lord. No, that is a lie: I am happier than I've been in a long, long time."
Edwyn smiled. "And how is Harlan?"
Ailith blushed; like her newfound pride, it was a lovely thing on her face, Edwyn thought. She cupped her ale in two hands like a little girl, and shook her head, not knowing what to say. "He tried to kiss me. I was… frightened. Not that he'd kiss me, but that he wouldn't stop. And that maybe I wouldn't have the strength to stop him. So I pushed him away, and for days I did not see him."
"But that's awful! You poor thing!"
Ailith bit her lip, grinning. "Well, it's better now. He bought me a puppy, if you can believe it! A fine hound puppy, just like you might have, my lord! It must have cost him a fortune, even if it is, for now, a little chewing mess making imp! So he isn't angry with me. And we've started taking our walks again… Just talking, you know. I do love his company."
"Then I am glad for you."
Edwyn's meal came, and he took a few bites of soup before looking up at Ailith. He was reluctant to broach a topic that would surely be painful for her, being a victim of Uruks. But he had no choice. "Ailith… Halla's time grows near, and she has no help. They are both terrified. It's quite… quite touching, in a tragic way, to see her… her lover suffering for fear of what will happen to her. He has no idea what to do for her. And you know Halla; what can that poor girl do to help herself now? So… forgive me, I feel terrible, but I must ask you to try to remember… your own labor. What it was like for you. And what was done to help you. So that we might gather such wisdom and supplies as Halla and Maukurz need right now. Otherwise, I fear Halla will die in a matter of weeks."
Edwyn grimaced as Ailith, pale and shaking, turned her head and closed her eyes.
"Ailith…?"
"How can you ask this of me? No! I will not remember! Not for her, and certainly not for her beast. They've made their bed, let them lie in it together!"
"Ailith! Please… You know you don't wish for Halla's death! How many times have you spoken to be of concern for her wellbeing?"
"And, you recall, of my disgust."
"Yes, that, but you said you worried for her. And you said you owed her, a little bit, for financing this place. I know it might be painful for you, but surely you might hazard it if it meant saving her life! And as for her… him… well, he is what he is, but he genuinely loves her."
"Does he?" Ailith spat.
"Well, yes, I believe he does! But forget him, you don't know him and you don't need to think of him. Won't you help poor Halla? Ailith? I know you are a kind woman. All I ask is that you remember, and tell me what I might need to know to help her."
Ailith swallowed hard. She turned to face Edwyn, and he watched her take a deep breath for courage. "She will need a midwife, Edwyn. Short of that, I wouldn't know what to advise you. The baby will likely be too big for her. She might tear, and need to be stitched up. She will need to be kept clean, so she doesn't take a fever and die. If they make it, someone will need to cut the… the baby's cord, wash him, wrap him up. I imagine he would need to nurse, so if she dies, the baby dies as well, since no one in the right mind would nurse it for her. I don't know any more than that. I drowned my child, as you know. You should not ask me to consider hers."
With that, Ailith stood. "I am sorry," she whispered tightly, teary eyed. "I can't do this." Then she turned and bustled away, disappearing in the noise and laughter of her tavern.
Edwyn sighed hard, rubbing his forehead, feeling an ache coming on. He downed his ale quickly, and then drank Ailith's as well. I will gather supplies, and talk to some other woman about the basic principles of childbirth, but I can do no more. Poor Halla. Poor Maukurz. Didn't they know what they were getting themselves into? The only ones who would know enough to help them, are the very people his folk did such horrible injury to!
Edwyn was never prone to despair, but if Ailith refused to help, he could see no way for Halla to survive.