Greetings All! I just want to thank everyone who has commented and favorited my story. It really means a lot and does wonders for my motivation.
WARNING! This chapter is rated P-13.
I don't own Middle Earth. Please enjoy. :)
Chapter 19
Nemir inhaled delicious smells of yeast and roasting meat as she entered The Dented Shield. Her feet shuffled against the worn floor, displacing the straw scattered about to absorb unwanted liquids. The familiarity helped to calm the jitters in her stomach. Her weeks of performing had transformed the tavern into an unexpected refuge.
"Greetings Nemir," called out Master Himon at his regular post behind the bar. "Morfinder's that way." He motioned toward the back of the room.
"Thank you!" she gave him a smile and made her way through the tables and patrons.
Morfinder was sitting at one of the smaller tables, tucked away beside the wall and near the glowing fire. He was sipping at a tankard of ale and a half eaten loaf sat at the table's center.
He smiled as she approached and waved her over. "Forgive me for starting without you. I was famished." He gained the attention of a barmaid and waved her over to the table. "Tonight's offering is venison stew with potatoes, carrots, and brown bread."
She returned his smile and joined him, "That sounds delightful. I'm rather hungry myself. I was so focused on my summons by Baroness Iawien, I forgot to eat lunch. Then there was the Losson situation." She tore a chunk from still warm loaf and popped it into her mouth.
He ordered them two stews. One with beer, one with wine. "Losson? Is he the mulish bard from the Prince's banquet?"
"The very same one. I encountered him at the Baroness's home before my meeting. He was his typical pleasant self." She then proceeded to recount the conversation.
He leaned back, a hand thoughtful stroking his neatly trimmed beard as he processed the information. "I wouldn't waste much energy on his words, but I would keep your guard up around him. He is obviously threatened by you."
"I suppose," his calm demeanor help calm her worries.
"I have something that might improve your mood," he reached into his tunic, withdrew a folded parchment, and handed it to her.
She curiously examined the paper and found her name written in a familiar hand. Her eyes widen and she hugged the letter close to her chest. "How did you come by this?" she exclaimed full of excitement.
"I knew that would do the trick," he grinned. "I found it waiting for me when I returned to the barracks. They must have sent it through my Uncle. He's the only one who bothered to keep track of me after I left. How they knew I could deliver it, I'm not sure."
Nemir smirked, "My mother has a way of just knowing things."
"So, are you going to open it?"
"Not here," she carefully slipped the letter into a pocket, "too public." It had been over half a year since she left her parents, and she knew it would be an emotional time for her. If it was anything urgent, her mother would have contacted her a different way. "So tell me about your snow patrol."
"Most of our time was spent clearing roads of snow and debris. A few large trees, had fallen onto the road and we used their wood to supply many hearths and fires once we reached the farms. They're a hearty people, so most fared well through the storm. We were able to help them with simple repairs to their homes and barns. A few of the older ones however…" His voice trailed off and a mouth tightened, "They weren't so lucky. Lulled to sleep by the cold and never waking. We did our best to provide proper burials, but the ground was so frozen. Most were placed on pyrers."
Nemir reached out her hand to provide what confort she could. "The memories of these lives lost, are not yours to bear alone. You honored them."
He accepted her hand, and held it firmly. Her need to console him, pushing away earlier insecurities. They sat quietly for a few moments, the buzz of the growing crowds gradually invading their space.
Morfindir finally broke the silence, "Might I interest you in a stroll atop the city wall after our meal?"
She smiled, "That would be lovely."
The stars shone like diamonds scattered upon the train of a dress made from the richest velvet. So deep were the colors that they appeared black at first glance, but a keen eye could spot the blue and purple hues. The silver light of the moon doubled upon the surface of the calm water below. The wind still possessed some of winter's bite, but it also brought the scent of salt and sea with it. Nemir inhaled deeply, savoring the beauty before her.
"I hope I never tire of this," said Mordinder as he stared into the vast beauty of the night before them. His shoulders brushing her own.
"I don't think it's possible. Not if you saw it every night for a hundred years," she said.
His eyes broke away and glanced toward her, "I would hope I wasn't alone during that time. Might get lonely after a while."
Nemir could feel her face blushing and sunk into her hood. She sometimes forgot that not everyone's vision was as sensitive as hers. Unsure what to say, she focused on the beautiful scene before her. Her heart knew what she wanted to hear, but she mind was still too cautions to admit it. Silence grew between them and with it she felt tension. If it was in her mind alone, she did not know.
"It wasn't until I stood upon this wall, my first night as a candidate for the city guard, that I felt I might survive the city." said Morfinder.
"Do you ever miss home?" asked Nemir.
He pondered for a moment, "I don't think about it much. Occasionally a certain smell or sound will trigger a memory. Like the smell of fish guts when I walk past the docs. I haven't boarded a ship or boat since I joined the guard. I've moved on from that part of my life. It's better that way. How about you? You had more to leave behind than I."
"I miss my family. My father is the only reason my Mother and I stayed in that village. I wouldn't shed a tear if I never saw most of them again. You were the only who ever saw me as a person, and when you left…." she shrugged unsure what else to say.
"Did you regret not taking my offer to join me in Dol Amroth?" he said.
"Even though I knew it to be foolish, there were days I wish I had. I would lay in my bed, sore and beaten from hours of training, and think of the adventures we could have had," she chuckled to herself. " A child's dream I know."
"I did the same."
Their eyes met and they shared a smile. Nemir draped her hand gently on top of his own. "It might have taken a few years, but we eventually found each other, and I'm very glad that we did. This city would be a much lonelier place without you."
Morfindir surprised her by grasping her hand between his own. His calloused thumb gently rubbed the back of her pale hand. The cold light of the moon illuminated his face, his eyes studying her. His hand slowly raised and shifted her hood back, his hand grazing her cheek in the process. She raised a questioning eyebrow.
"The light from the stars and the moon has traveled down and settled upon your skin. It's beautiful."
It may have been the soft crashing of the waves, the smell of the salt, or the glimmer of stars, but all feelings of insecurity and fear dissipated as she gazed upon his handsome face. She shifted closer to him, her eyes dropped to his soft lips. Her body now brushed against his chest as she stood before him. She waited for him to move away, yet he stayed. The wind had dislodged a lock of his hair, she daintily returned it to its home. Her hand sunk into the dark, soft curls, as her lips met his. He gently answered her, sending warm tingles of excitement through her body. She had wanted this for so long, and had grown tired of denying her feelings. Passion grew as they continued, his strong hands burrowing into her hair, freeing it from its braid. His thumb grazed the top of her pointed ear, causing a surprising but pleasant sensation. His lips traveled down her neck leaving a trail of delicate kisses, and she leaned her head back. His beard tickled her as he moved across her delicate skin to her shoulder. Her mind was absorbed by the experience, all thoughts blocked by these new and wonderful feelings. Feeling hot and restricted, she released her cloak and let it fall upon the ground.
"So beautiful," he muttered as he broke away for a quick gasp of air before meeting again.
She needed more of him. She parted her lips allowing for his tongue to meet hers, their bodies pressed closely together. Each was lost in the other as hands roamed wildly. The loud groan of rusty hinges caused the couple to freeze. Morfindir first looked at the door nearest to them, but it was still closed. Nemir slowly moved away from him and scanned the darkened walkway. A torch light popped from the ground farther along the wall, and she hastily motioned toward it.
"We best be going quickly," he whispered with a mischievous grin.
Nemir's heart battered against her chest. She didn't know if it was fear, excitement or some twisted combination of them both. She snatched her cloak from the ground as Morfinder lifted the heavy wooden door. Unfortunately their hinges were no quieter and betrayed them to the intruders. A gruff voice called out, ordering them to stop. It was promptly ignored as Nemir flew down the opening. He quickly followed, allowing for the door to crash down behind him. He snatched the torch from the wall, and they fled down the steps at a reckless pace. When they reached the bottom, the torch was extinguished, dousing the couple in darkness. Cautiously, they crept through the door, scanning for any movement along the base of the wall. When none was found, they fled hand in hand into the night, smiling like a pair of foxes.
Nemir sat at the small, worn table, stationed near the window in her modest bedroom. A single candle offered a soft, warm glow in the deep darkness. It wasn't much, but her eyes were unhindered. She carefully withdrew the letter from its pocket, and gently smoothed it open. Her hands continuously rubbing over the creases to flatten the paper.
My Dearest Nemir,
I pray to Ulmo that you are happy and well within the city. Your father and I have missed you since the moment you departed. I am relieved that you reunited with Morfindir; he will be a reliable guide and friend. The cities of old can be beautiful places full of wonder and opportunity, but as you have no doubt learned, caution must be exercised. While we trained you in several subjects, some lessons only life can teach you. They are usually the most important and the hardest to learn.
Please inform Morfindir that his cousin has recovered from his condition. He is betrothed to a lovely girl from a neighboring town.
Your aunts send their love. They insist that you continue to practice and improve upon the training they provided you. Mithiel warns that if your skills wain, she will ensure that you regret it. Laegwen hopes the cloak is serving you well, and encourages you to rely on your own skills.
I don't doubt that you have found success, but I want to advise caution. The power of music is strong in our family, and we can be absorbed by it. Be the dolphin, using the current to it's advantage, not the jellyfish that drifts about where the sea takes it.
Captain Glamon will arrive on the 25th of Gwaeron. He has agreed to deliver your response.
Your father wishes to say a few words as well. I love you my daughter.
Naneth
The elegant and delicate writing of her mother ended. She found the mention of Nimmon interesting. She was obviously referring to the curse placed on him years ago, but didn't provide many details. Did she mention it because her mother didn't expect Nemir to know the spell was broken? Either way it seemed her mother didn't feel comfortable elaborating on the situation in writing.
Each time Morfindir's name was mentioned, her heart would do a flip. How would her mother react to the news of what took place that night? She was still trying to process the night's events. A part of her was assured that the sun would rise and she would wake from a wonderful dream.
My Limelle,
I'm not as skilled with words as your mother, so I will be quick. I love you so much. My pride for you could fill a fleet of ships. I know you just starting your journey, but I hope you return one day before your father is too old and grey.
Love,
Ada
Nemir smiled. She could hear her father's warm tone through each line. His handwriting, like him, was efficient and strong. She read through the letter once more before fetching a length of parchment to pen her response. She started with her arrival into the city, and summarized as best she could her various ventures. She purposely added a line about Nimmon's recovery, and how she was aware of it weeks ago. Hopefully her mother would be able to read between the lines. She also failed to include any romantic mentions of Morfindir. By the time she was finished, it was an unexpected three pages in length. Nemir stifled a yawn. The sun would be rising soon. She stood from her desk, stretching muscles stiff from sitting in one position for too long. Sleep was calling as she blew out her candle and snuggled into her bed.
I know this one was a little short, but it felt right to end it when I did. What did you think? Please review.
