Valith sat by the fire in his room, sharpening his daggers. Mary stood in front of the window, looking out at the quiet night. Calmed by the rhythmic pull of sword on stone, she went out of Valith's sight and removed her gown, saying nothing to him. In her underwear, she crawled into the bed.
Valith remained by the fire even as the sounds of her sobbing grew and faded away and she fell asleep. 'I will never touch her unless she asks me to.' He promised himself, and stretched out along the hearth to sleep, as a guardian.
It was known, and it was noted. A deed of kindness as well as rejection.
**************************
When Mary woke, it took her a moment to remember where she was. She sat up in the big soft bed. A tunic made for sleeping was folded on the end of the bed, and she blushed to think that anyone had noticed her lack of it.
She got up, and would have worn the green and white gown of the day before, but it was not where she had lain it. A gold and green one was in its place. She put it on, managing with some difficulty the clasps down the back. She admired herself in the mirror a long time. She looked nothing like she remembered. Her long hair needed brushed from where she had taken it down the night before, but her face seemed thinner and she looked taller. Probably just the dress.
Having nothing else to do, she wandered out of the open door onto the patio, admiring the greenery and birdcalls. She saw a stairway leading down from this porch to another below, and went down the stairs. Three little boys chased one another back and forth amid the saplings in the garden on this level. They only gave her a passing glance or two. She continued on her way, coming at last a stand of trees.
Having nothing else to do, she wandered out of the open door onto the patio, admiring the greenery and birdcalls. She saw a stairway leading down from this porch to another below, and went down the stairs. Three little boys chased one another back and forth amid the saplings in the garden on this level. They only gave her a passing glance or two. She continued on her way, coming at last a stand of trees.
She walked among them on the slope of a hill, reaching out to lovingly run her hand over the trunks of some she passed. She hummed softly as she went, lonely, bored and overwhelmed by the beauty of this place.
Unbeknownst to her, elves in the bracken heard and some stole so close that her fingers brushed their faces as well as the tree trunks. Haldir smiled and slipped away into the deeper forest after following her silently to the stream.
Mary reached the stream and sighed. She turned and kept along its edge, the riverbed pebbles sliding softly under her untrained feet. She stopped to watch boys and girls at play, kicking water and wrestling with one another. From over the hill carried the sound of the forge, the rhythmic strike of the hammer on anvil as metal was pressed and coaxed and tortured into shape.
Mary followed the sounds, stepping up on roots to climb the steep hill, her hair falling in her face. Brushing it back with her hand, she crested the hill to see the forge alongside the stable, and changed her course.
She breathed deep of the air from inside the forge as she passed, smelling stale water, hot iron, man sweat and horse, rich smells. She smiled and stepped into the low-roofed barn.
It was very open, hardly more than vines and trees making up the walls and roof. Horses nickered and she reached out to lay her palm against the velvety muzzle of a chocolate mare nearby. The mare whinnied and leaned into her hand, and with a hearty smile Mary rubbed her ears and patted her long face.
Someone spoke behind her. "M'lady, wish to.... rye yonder cow?" it was spoken in heavily accented broken old English, but Mary understood. She turned to see a blonde elf in the stall with a strawberry roan, bridling the animal. "You speak English?" She asked, incredulous. "Talk...of Men.... yes." Came the faltering reply, the fellow looking frustrated at not being good with the launguage.
"My name is Mary." She said, pointing to herself. "Who are you?" She turned toward him. His brows knit and he seemed to be thinking long and hard for the answer in her launguage, but gave up and answered simply "Rumil." He extended his hand to shake hers, smiling. "Mirie." he said, pronouncing it incorrectly. She was so glad to have found someone else that spoke English tears came to her eyes.
"You...rye Absinath?" He pointed to the mare. Mirie nodded, wiping her eyes and looking off at the trees to distract herself from crying. He blanketed and bridled the mare, then gave her a step up, leading the mare out under the open sky first. "Wait...Rumil" He pointed to the horse inside that he had been grooming. "Karon." He said, gesturing that she should wait for him. So she did, patting the mare and leaning forward against Absinath's neck.
Rumil led out Karon and mounted the gelding effortlessly, and spurred him to action with his legs. Absinath was happy to follow, and Mirie enjoyed the sunshine and wind.