A red dawn rose and Rochwyn crept to the smithy, sparks flew as she ran her sword over and over against the stone, beads of sweat formed on her head and yet her breath froze on the air in front of her. There is much work to do, she thought, my riding dress needs cleaning let alone mending; I will need amour and some proper boots. And so caught up she was in her thoughts that she almost wore her sword blunt. The oak doors groaned open and made her jump from her work.
"Heidrek" she gasped "and to think I thought it was my father" her words echoed around the stone room.
He glanced sorrowfully at her, "My lady, what are doing here?", "You know well Heidrek, and you should be doing the same." He strode toward her; his brown hair obscured his grey eyes. "Why do you ride battle which does not concern you?" he questioned her. She pursed her lips and glared at him "How dare you."
"Rochwyn" he said quietly and stood forward, gingerly taking her hands to draw her close. "You are vain to ride in to battle for glory - for you shall receive none." A gentle finger slid down her cheek. "You may fall, why die so young and for a rabble of orcs." He whispered, she could feel his icy breath. "I beg you leave this nonsense locked away far from Rarous, where it belongs. Stay with your people, stay with me. She drew breath as he kissed her. "Heidrek" she whispered but as he slipped his arms around her waist she broke away from him and turned her back "You should not be here, Heidrek, and you know it." His angry steps resonanced back down over the cobbled down to the door "You will regret this before the end." He spat.