From Sea to City {Calon}

[Narbeleth]

The journey was some four days long, even by traveling the full day with no delay. For one who had always loved camping, and the sight and feel of sleeping beneath the stars and open sky, Narbeleth had been almost hysterical for herself. It seemed that the joy of such adventure could not be had for the young woman on this trip, and her traveling companions had each night heard her crying herself to sleep.

To travel with strangers. How ill trusting her brother had been of her, that it was safer to send her off with strangers, than to allow her stay in the city with her family. And it was not simply her family that she missed, for even stronger than the pull at her heart for her mother, and grandparents, and siblings, was the odd feeling of another. How wretched it was to travel so far from her Calon. It almost tore more at her that she need be so far away from him, than the feeling of missing any other.

Her companions pitied the miserable woman, and wondered at her reason for leaving the city, though she never told them. Nor had her brother, who they were slightly acquainted with through the man’s days before retirement as one of Faeldor, and Faelon before his, grooms. Faeldor barely knew the man, though his rash decision had required quick action, and this family was the first to be found traveling to Belfalas.

Even upon reaching her destination, Narbeleth had none of the light of which she usually beheld. Her family was in awe, and her Uncle Linnon read the message twice over that Faeldor had sent with her; though it held no answer to why the girl had truly been sent here alone. Nonetheless, her family took her in with loving arms, and tried not to question or pry.

It was only on her second day, when Narbeleth had suddenly brightened, and asked her aunt with great glee for the means to write a letter. She wondered why the idea had not struck her before, and as the supplies were willingly offered, she sat down to write.

Cal,[/b] she started it simply, and then frowned, biting her lip and adding in a flourish next. My dearest huntsman. Her huntsman. The thought made her smile, and the letter easily finished itself, as if she were sitting next to and speaking to the very man right beside her. She sighed as she finished it shortly, smiling and addressing the envelope.

To Calon, son of Istor, of the House of Tunir
Fourth Tier, Minas Tirith

[/b][/center]

Narbeleth folded the envelope, and had just sealed and readied it, as her Uncle Linnon came into his household. His footsteps echoed in the doorway just in time to see his niece press her lips to the parchment in a soft kiss, as if they were upon the very person who she had addressed her letter.

“Good evening, Uncle,” Beleth almost sang as she spoke, trying to hide her surprise at his sudden entrance. The young woman had been rather melancholy since her arrival, until her Aunt Ivren had managed to rummage up a writing tablet and ink, and show her to the desk. Now though, it seemed that her eyes were dancing.

“Good evening, Beleth,” the man replied cheerily, and in amusement, as the young woman made obvious measure to compose herself. “Have you written a letter?” he asked curiously.

“Yes…” she said slowly. “I hoped that you would take it to the messengers tomorrow, before you set out to work,” she requested sweetly, as she stood to offer the man a kiss upon the cheek, and hand him the envelope. He seemed to study it for a moment.

“Calon, son of Istor… Not to Faeldor?” the man questioned, an eyebrow raised curiously.

Beleth nearly blushed under the look of which Linnon gave her. “No,” she nearly stuttered. “Just… just to a friend.”

“A friend,” her uncle repeated, teasing slightly. Amidst the raising of five daughters, Linnon new quite well the difference in tone of voice and appearance when a young woman said ‘just a friend’, or, ‘just a ‘friend’. He paused a moment, looking for more of a reaction from the girl, yet she did not answer. She had already been taken away from the man, neither did she wish to say something that would forbid writing to him!

“Very well,” he smiled lightheartedly. “I will send it off in the morning.” He did not tell the young woman that he very well knew the man that this letter was addressed to, nor that he was good friends with Istor, his father. Sooner or later, it seemed quite evident that he would find out. Narbeleth smiled greatfully, still appearing rather flustered, and so the man tucked the letter into his pocket and changed the subject.

“Ivren says that the delicious smell that is wafting from the kitchen is your very own recipe of chicken pie.”

Narbeleth brightened, her words returning to her. “Oh yes, I have been fond of it now for a time, and thought that you would enjoy it. You see, there is a trick to making a fine chicken pie.”

“And does my niece care to tell me these secret ingredients? That I might be sure for Ivren to have them on hand?” Linnon asked amusedly.

The young woman gleamed, fully back to herself. “It is no ingredient, but in the chicken itself, you see, you must run them to their exhaustion. Simply chase them about the yard until they are a pile of squawking feathers. They basically jump right into the pie without complaint by the end of it.” She motioned with her hands as she spoke, and Linnon laughed, as they made their way to the kitchen.

The next morning, the Shipwright did as he could to seek out a messenger who was headed for the White City that very day, and placed in his hands the letter which had been so carefully written, and with instruction and a tip, it was off toward it’s destination.

Cal, My dearest huntsman,

I write to you with many regards and sorrows that I was forced to leave before our great hunt! I would that you did not hold my disappearance against me, for it was not of my will, as you should surely already know. My brother had reasons for sending me, and though I do not agree with them, I will humor him for a time by staying here. I pray that now he has at least left you to return to your regular hours at work, and has stilled his burdens of continuing lectures.

I have much regret for not seeking you before my departure, though in truth I was not given the time to do so. Else certainly I would not have missed it! If only we had been able to depart for the hunt a few hours sooner, we would have had a splendid time. I miss you terribly.

I have arrived safely in Belfalas, as you see by my writing, and am staying at the home of my Uncle Linnon. My aunt and cousins are glad to see me, and I them, and the family is very kind. In truth, it has been many years since I have visited the sea, and I doubt that I shall lack for things to do. My Uncle is not nearly as strict as my brother, and does not worry that I plan to set into the woods or cliffs on my own, or to go riding, or even tarry all the way to the city if I wish it. The fresh air is welcome, and so are the adventures to be had.

Today even, my eyes are on the cliffs, and tomorrow I shall not delay. I doubt that my cousins should partake with me. Though they are fun, they are not nearly the climbing companions I could wish for. When I was young, Fael and Miriel would not hesitate to climb with me, and this is the first I have been here without them. Can you imagine Miriel dirtying her hands and scaling the rock walls with me? It is quite the memory, which I shall treasure always.

Please give my dear brother my regards, for I will not be writing to him. I would be glad for him to hear from you; that I am safe and well, and would be happy to return soon. Be certain to save for me some stags in the Firien Wood, that when I return we may take them down together. And I will learn for you some new songs.

With all my regards,
Your Bel[/b]

[Calon]

They had finally been dismissed by Master Faeldor; and the two stable hands were more than ready to leave. It had been an exceedingly long day, especially for young Calon. He had arrived early once more as it seemed to be his charge now to do. His nerves every time he set foot within the stone stable grew hot and tense. Indeed he smiled and laughed with the other men who worked beside him, though the stable master had not received a warm look or smile since Beleth had been sent away; no words were offered in good nature, and when he could avoid answering questions he would do so.

Nonetheless, his work had been superb, and in truth Faeldor could not have complained over him.

But now. It was time to leave that place and tend to things of his own liking. “I love horses,” the man beside him spoke with a laugh. “I hate getting new ones up here.”

Calon laughed a little. “Is the strain to much for you, Beron?” It was always a rough day when the new mounts came in to be stabled. Not only did the stable hands have to water the horses, feed the horses and brush them, much the stalls and lay new straw, but they had to constantly walk away from what they were doing by specific assignments from the Stable Master himself or calm a horse that was uncomfortable in their new home.

Also, more men were called in on the days where horses were to be brought in, which made the stable hotter and crowded. Even as they left the stables and moved into the cool autumn air, Calon and Beron were drenched in sweat, and dirtied by their work that day. Even Calon’s strength was exhausted, and his arms felt of lead. Though, now that he was out of work his sparkling eye had returned in full.

“I have tomorrow off,” Beron offered in a friendly manner. “Would you like to join me for a drink at the old tavern?”

Calon laughed, though inwardly was quite tempted. “You may have tomorrow off, but I do not. In fact, I am called in before sunrise tomorrow. I would join you if I did not have to go in early,” there was a hint of frustration in his voice. One thing Calon loved as a man was quality time drinking and laughing with his friends. There was nothing, save for perhaps hunting, that contented him more.

“Ah, Faeldor has not let up yet?” Beron’s voice was laughing. “I suppose that is why none of the rest of us would ever court his family,” the added sentence was thoughtful, though teasing. “You are a brave soul.”

Calon laughed. “Well, I do regret the family she is from at the moment. Though the lady herself is quite worth the trouble.”

“I should hope so. Well, I best be off to clean up before I head to tavern. It would do me no good to find a lass worth having and smell to the high heavens.” Beron winked.

“I do believe even the Valar could smell us now,” Calon agreed with a nod farewell in Beron’s direction, heading off to his own home with intents to wash up and have his supper.

--

No sooner had he gotten in the door than did his grandmother poke her head around the corner. “Oh, there you are, Calon!” Her voice was light, and her eyes were pleasant. These were not unusual traits, though Calon instantly saw that there was a light in her eyes that sparkled differently from anything previous he had seen.

“Grandmother,” Calon greeted brightly, though did not move to embrace or kiss her. Indeed, he was surely a sight of grime and much this evening.

“Heavens, child,” his grandmother laughed. “You worked hard today,” it was a kind way of saying he should wash up, and Calon laughed aloud.

“I promise I will not stink up the house for long,” the man replied easily as he made move to head to his room.

“Good. Supper is ready,” she offered again. Without even a moment’s pause she added, “and the letter that came for you today is on your bed.”

That had stilled Calon’s tracks for a moment. “A letter?”

“The handwriting is certainly not your mother’s. But I do believe it was addressed by a lady.” Istien grinned, and even began to laugh as Calon took off, with a quickened pace, toward his room.

Calon had never washed up so fast; all the while his blue eyes were upon the little envelope that laid upon his sheets. As soon as his hands were clean and he was sure he would not dirty the letter he had ripped it open with all eagerness. Beleth had written him. The man’s smile was grand as he read, and certainly every bit entertained.

“Calon,” Istien called from the kitchen. “Do come sit for supper.”

“Coming, Grandmother,” Calon called in response. He would respond to the letter the second he was done eating. Indeed, the man was famished.

--

Nightingale,

Let me begin by saying it was truly a delight to come home to a letter that was not from my mother. Sometimes I do believe the woman misses me too much, though she surely should be used to having me not in the house. I was never one to stay indoors for long.

I am pleased to know you arrived safely; I know the man you traveled with, and certainly you were in safe enough hands. Though I was certainly upset that he had taken you so early in the morning.

I did still go on the hunt. I regret to say that I am quite sure that I have hunted all of the stag. You see, I did not know you wished me to leave any for you until just now. I shall leave it to the Valar and to Eru to restock the forest before my next trip. And I will certainly make sure I am bringing you along. If there is no stag left still, I say we shall hunt boar. A bit more tricky and dangerous, but you are not one to shy away from that!

As for your brother, I shall certainly give him your tidings in the morning when he arrives at work. While you are in Belfalas, do not do anything that I would not do. This, though, should not sadden you. I am quite sure I would do almost anything. Except go to a ball, though this time of year there probably are not that many, so you are safe from those horrid traps.

If you can find a bow and quiver, and feel brave enough to venture to the wood, you could search for and find a target nailed to a tree not but a five minute walk in. My father, brother and I put that up. I suggest you pass some time practicing the archery I taught you. Perhaps you shall gain enough skill to keep up with me in the hunt.

Hope this letter finds you well,
Yours truly,
Your Huntsman

--

With a charming though crooked smile, Calon sealed the letter with determination. In the morning he would find a messenger to take the letter back to her. He would walk into the stables and work until Faeldor arrive and tell him of Bel’s safe arrival and of her regards. Surely that would elicit some sort of reaction from him, though whether it would make Calon’s day better or worse remained to be known.

After carefully throwing the letter to his bedside table, Calon eagerly fell asleep.

[Narbeleth]

“Beleth, is that you?” Linnon asked, as he heard the front door of the house shut quietly, and soft steps making their way to the stairwell. It was very late into the night, and his wife and daughters had already retreated to their rooms, yet the man of the household found it his responsibility to sit up and wait for his young charge.

There was a soft sigh and the footsteps turned his direction as her name was called. Narbeleth had certainly wished to slip to her bedroom unnoticed and unquestioned this eve; yet someone always noticed when she returned.

“Good heavens! What were you doing!?” the man exclaimed as the young woman stepped over the threshold of the sitting room. He did not always ask the girl where she had been, or what she had been doing. She was an adult after all, and he gave her freedom to come and go as she liked; but still, she was young. Though he was not as much a worrier as her brother, her appearance tonight left much to the imagination on what could have happened to her. The girl was soaked, near head to foot, wearing just her chemise, which was covered in mud, and the dress in her arm appeared none the better in shape.

“I was simply swimming,” she started, looking down at the floor.

“Swimming in one of the frog ponds in the rain?” Linnon asked, trying to keep his voice under control. He was highly amused at the sight of his niece. It seemed that even the years that had passed since she had last visited had changed her none the more; save now she was older and had perhaps even more energy.

“No, in the sea,” she looked up at the sound of Linnon’s chuckles, and tried to compose herself, now holding her dress affront of her. “I had hung my clothes off a branch, and a gust of wind must have sent them off into the river. Then it rained.” Then I was forced to search the banks, in the dark and rain, for more than an hour, in naught but my skin until I found these confounded clothes. She did not finish her story outloud, for surely her uncle would not be amused by it. Neither was Narbeleth at the moment, for she was quite cold and tired.

“I was just getting up to heat the bath for you,” Linnon said as he stood and went to move past her out of the room, unable to control his chuckling. “Ivren would be having a fit right now. It is best that I do not rouse her.” He managed to rein his laughter, and then the two moved down to the end of the hall where the little bathing room stood. Linnon lit the woodstove and saw that there was a fresh towel waiting, then pumped the water into the basin and let his niece be, bidding her goodnight. Soon enough, there was a warm bath, and Beleth washed every bit of chill from her body.

---

Later on, in her room, Beleth did not even mind to light a candle. She tossed her sodden garments in a corner, content to deal with them in the morning and slipped into her nightgown. It was only as she moved under the covers and lay her head upon her pillow that she felt her cheek upon the cold envelope and reached for it. It took a moment for her to perceive that it was in fact a letter, and it seemed that immediately her sleepiness left her, and she rushed to light a candle, kneeling still on her bed as she pulled open the seal to read it. What a joy! It were as if she could hear the man speaking the words right to her, and see the amusement in his eye as he did.

Beleth wrapped herself up in a blanket, and moved herself and her candle to the desk, finding a paper and ink. Her response could not even wait until the morning, for she was too excited at the prospect of replying to her huntsman. Oh, he had written back to her! The young woman had half expected that he would not, for the sake of letter writing being to frilly for the man. Though, she did not tease him for it in the letter, for she did wish for him to write again!

---

My deareast Cal,

Your letter has found me well, and I hope that I should know the same of you. I can hardly believe that by the time you receive this it will be nearly a month that I have been away. It seems so long! Yet, there have been many things to do and the time has passed fine. Though I do not know your mother, I am certain she has fine reasons for missing you; you can hardly know how much restraint it took to keep these hands of mine from waiting for your reply before writing once more.

Do not fear, my Calon, I should not attempt feats greater than you would. Certainly my own adventures could not rival the ones that you partake in. I have already scaled the highest and most steep cliffs, swam in the rivers and sea, and ventured deep into the wood. But I feel that you would neither criticize me for such measures, but rather join me. Sometimes one of my cousins will accompany me, but I feel that living here they take for granted the great joys that this earth holds for us! I wish that you could be here with me enjoying the greatest of these summer days remaining.

Oh, that the Valar would restock our great forest! But perhaps it is not the truth that all the stag have been hunted. Perhaps it would take the two of us and our tracking skills to bring the most wise and sly of stags to his end. We will not know until we go together. In either case, I would be glad to hunt boar as well, and if it comes to it, even bear. The hunt seems so thrilling, and it is not something that I would wish to miss.

It so happens that my uncle procured for me a bow, of which he barely uses. I went in search of the very target in the woods, and I did find it not long after the beginning of the search. Even as I was readying with steady hand for my third shot, someone came from the wood and startled me; and it seemed by only a fraction that my jumping arrow missed him and spared his life. Heaven forbid, I murder your very own brother, who I found him to be! I hope that you should forgive me. Remlas has taken to practicing with me on some days, and I am glad for the company and friendship. I have even seen him pull a great stag from the wood one day; remarkable; and he has offered to take me out with him, for my interest in the hunt, but I cannot answer him. You see, you are my dearest huntsman, and my only desire is that my first hunt be alongside you alone. He has offered to take me riding, though I have not accepted, nor have I yet agreed to his request to sup at your mother’s home. I feel it is terribly rude of me, but I should not wish to send him a false impression.

My mother has written me to tell me news of the family, and my response to them will be through you. You may tell Faeldor that I am in fine spirits here, yet I wish to return home now before the summer should end on us. If it pleases him, you may even remark on my adventures. I am quite certain that to send me to Belfalas for safety has only increased my desire to rove and ramble about the forest and hills, doing things that Faeldor would certainly find despicable for a lady such as myself to participate in! I cannot still my laughter even as I write!

Yours only,
Your Nightingale
---

The young woman bit her lip as she signed the letter. It had taken a great deal of courage for her to write the last line; Yours only. It was certainly, by now, the truth of the matter, set both in Narbeleth’s mind and heart. To write it on paper though seemed a bit much, though for the fact that she had written so much about her encounter with his brother, she felt the need to assure him. Before she could change her mind, she sealed the envelope and slipped barefoot from her room, down the stairs, and into the dining room to place it at her uncle’s seat, that he might find it and post it in the morning. Soon she had made her way smiling back to the bedroom.

Beleth smiled again, reaching back to her bedside table for the letter addressed to her. The script was neat, though not delicate, and she read It once more. It was certainly a man’s writing, and not even as scripted as that of her brother. “My huntsman… quite strong in practically every way,” she muttered aloud amusedly, as she curled up beneath her blankets. “I miss you so.”

[Calon]

Bel,

It is surely nice to know that my letter found you well. Though, not much harm could come to you in Belfalas. And I agree, you have been gone too long. I find the city a slight more lifeless since you have left; there are no others that have the same spirit as you and I, you see. My adventures have not been much fun without company. Though, I have had a busy week myself.

It seems to not be as busy as yours. You have chanced to meet my brother? Remlas is a fine sort of man. We are alike in a few ways. He is avid about hunting as well, though is not nearly as fond of horses. He prefers metal to mucking, though I find swords are not as fine company.

I am glad he is helping you with your archery, though. I can surely do no such thing from Minas Tirith. Do remember to watch your hands. And do not feel rude for keeping my brother at a distance, he is man enough to understand a lady’s boundaries. Aside, he is very busy and probably does not have much time to spend frolicking around anyway, what with the shop that he and father own in town.

I would suggest seeking more company from your cousins. They will probably serve to have more time to run about, and I know of nobody in Belfalas that does not love the sea. While perhaps they cannot keep up with you and your adventuring, it might do well to train them to do so. They will enjoy the freedom, surely.

I will pass on the news of everything to your family. I am sure your mother and Faeldor both will be glad to know you are enjoying yourself. He is likely not to call you back soon; your brother had quite an experience on the plains a few days back. Not that I have spoken directly to him on the matter, but the stable hands have all said that he took his Lady out for an evening ride and came across a band of orcs. They are both well and healthy, but he has taken stricter precautions with the horses and spoken to the generals about making sure their trainers are well on guard for the beasts.

Do give regards to my family for me, if you happen upon Remlas again. I am sure he would be glad to hear of me through you.

Your Huntsman

--

Calon stared at the letter once more, looking over the wording. He had to be careful; Beleth need not know of the jealousy and possessiveness that had taken over him as he had heard of her adventuring with his brother. Remlas was not a bad man, he was respectable and cared for people in much the same way as Calon himself. Beleth would not be in unsafe hands, surely. But he did not want her in his hands at all, or him in hers. Do remember to watch your hands. A subliminal message to her, though he assumed Beleth would take it to mean mind her hands as she held the bow.

He finished looking it over and folded it over, taking very short time address it and stand from his desk. Perhaps the trip to visit would need be sooner, to save himself from losing the woman he had already told himself he was going to marry. Remlas would not take her from him. He frowned lightly, though. He could not possibly leave now, though. His grandfather needed him here for the moment because of a new shipment of iron and steel coming to his shop. Calon would need help carry such things into the shop, and Faeldor was not about to grant him leave right away.

He sighed. No, he would have to wait. He trusted Beleth to not leave him, though his man pride desired to sweep in and make sure she did not. To Beleth, they were probably hardly courting. To Calon, the betrothal was already set firm in his mind. And Calon was a man of great conviction.

He walked lightly out the front door, in search of a messenger that could get the letter out right away, and then he was going to head into work. He smiled slightly to himself as he gleamed over the fact that he had worked in Remlas’ disregard for horses into the letter. Surely that would make Beleth uninterested.

Though, it was perhaps an exaggeration. Remlas liked the creatures fine. He just dedicated no time into owning one, or indeed riding. Unlike Calon, who seemed to live upon the saddle of his stallion.

And today, a new stallion was to be brought into the stable. Calon had been asked to make sure the stall was fully spotless before the horse arrived. Calon sighed inwardly. Thus started a new day at work. He only prayed the letter would find Beleth before she decided to court Remlas.

Perhaps a letter needed to be written to him.

[Narbeleth]

He is likely not to call you back soon. These words from her own Calon seemed to make the woman’s heart break, and her spirit fell immensely from the sweet high she had been on since the her uncle had placed the letter in her hands.

Even Calon did not have hope that she would return soon? And he was perhaps the most optimistic person she knew. She foundered for some minutes, sitting quietly on her window ledge as the news struck her. Summer was all but spent, and the days were becoming cool. Should it wait much longer, snow would fill the mountain passes, and she would be forced to spend the winter here.

Not that she detested her cousins; they had been only kind to her, and her Aunt and Uncle were exceedingly gracious with her presence. She had visited the rest of her family as well, and it had been good to see each of them. Though, what was she to do? She missed her family. She was an adult now, nearly nineteen years old, and Faeldor was still treating her as a child. Well, she had her own life to live! Calon was waiting for her back in Minas Tirith, and she wished to see him again. She would not live her life here in Belfalas if she desired to be near those in Minas Tirith, no matter if she preferred the cliffs and forests to the white walled city.

---

My dear Cal,

To hear again from my huntsman is the most blessed of surprises. I will agree that Belfalas is not nearly as lively as I have remembered it to be. I surely can take my pleasure in wandering the wood and valley, yet now I have grown accustomed to your companionship in my adventures, and I do not wish to let go of that.

I assure you that I have been careful with my hands. I have kept them in check upon the bow, and I was careful not to let the bowstring snap me again since that very first time I practiced with you. My aim has improved by far, as well as my range. I doubt that I could ever reach your skill level or great strength, but I think I should do my best to keep up with you in a hunt, and I am looking well forward to it.

My cousins and I were upon the beach tossing pebbles late into the afternoon last week, and your dear brother came upon us from down the shore. It was hardly a moment before my youngest cousin had invited him for supper, and all the others insisted. He obliged quite easily. My Aunt Ivren has given him welcome to come by whenever he pleases. She seems quite pert about the idea of him taking fancy on one of her daughters, though I will admit that my cousins do not seem his style; I love them dearly, mind you, but they are quite meek and girlish, and would never wish to participate in fine a sport as hunting, nor even roaming the forest far from their home.

He has called on me since then; not daily, for you are right that he is busy with your father’s business. The only outings I have allowed though have been simply those at the archery target, where he has helped instruct me in my practice. And I will let you know that I have not given him the same liberty of helping me in which I have allowed you. He has been warned that I can be quite distractible, and he must never touch me while I have a bow in arms. It is a grave joke between us on how I had nearly killed him on our first encounter. At times I fret over the fact that I must appear so wild upon first impression; but then I recall that I rightly deserve it. With the near killings, and the hen chasing. It is simply my way of being.

My mother wrote to me again recently, to let me know how our family fares, and she made note to mention you. She must have written her letter after yours, for certainly you would have told me the fine news of your promotion in the stables. I will admit that I was very proud of your work before. I can only admire a man who puts himself through such toil and labor for the care of his horses. Though, someone of your talent with horses should never be left to simply mucking stalls. You will make a fine groom indeed, and I am certain enjoy your work even more.

The news of the orcs on the field is dreadful, and I am well relieved that neither Faeldor nor Gilwen came to harm by it. Mother did not mention it to me in her most recent letter; though I suppose she wishes me not to worry. It saddens me that you believe he will keep me away longer, though I suppose that I should understand if he will make me wait until he comes to fetch me himself. It would not be until spring at least, I am certain, that he could take such time from work. I wish to return home. I miss you, and I miss my family. Do you recall our discussion atop the Beacon Tower? I should say that sooner, rather than later, those orcs will be snuffed out as they ought to be.

Yours,
Bel

---

The young woman frowned slightly as she addressed the letter. She certainly had more to say, but to write pages and pages to the man would make her seem too attached, would it not? She found it only fair to write of her encounters with Calon’s brother. The man had the right to know afterall, and from the letter he had sent, it seemed that he encouraged her to spend less time with the man. She wondered at it. Perhaps he was jealous of the fact that she saw so much of Remlas. Perhaps, if she had held more sisters like herself, and she would have had news that Calon was spending time with them while she was out of the city, she would have been upset as well. Though the thought of little Marileth and her fancy for the man caused her to laugh, and wipe her eyes, which had become a bit teary in her thoughts.

Remlas reminded her so of Calon, and in truth, now she had passed more time with the man’s brother, than with Calon himself. Something of his laughter was the same, and the gleam in his eye. He was almost as light hearted as the man himself, and she found fine company in him.

And she could not very well tell Remlas that she already had a suitor, for Calon had never rightly discussed the topic with her. Neither of them had truly made mention of anything official, though they had simply spent time together, and all those things had fallen into place. This did not still Beleth’s devotion in the least, for certainly she would see the man again. It simply complicated the fact that Remlas had taken it in his mind to calling upon her, and she had no way to dissuade him, nor her cousins from pressing the matter. He was fine company indeed; one could not act dour in fine company.

Though, it could be said that the smell of a metal worker was not the same as that of a horseman. Nor did Remlas have the same spirit of adventure. Certainly he was a fine enough man, but Narbeleth was quite set in her mind, that she desired none other than Calon. She would see him again, she reminded herself. She simply had to wait.

[Calon]

My Calon,

It has been far too long since you have gone to stay with your father’s parents. I must say that I am growing more and more lonesome for you. My sons used to bring me such cheer, and while both of you still are my pride and life, I see less of you both lately and it has certainly left me feeling a bit desolate. That you need be taken so far away!

I do hope your grandparents understand what a treasure they have in having you, my son, in their home. Sometimes I imagine I can hear you and your brother laughing in the sitting room like you both did when you were younger. The wooden horses and soldiers you used to play with, and the excitement I saw in your eyes when your father called you to learn to hunt with him! I know it is only right that time passes and you both should grow up and leave my home, but I never imagined the Valar would lead you so far away. Do try and come visit once in a while. It would do my heart good to see your face and speak to you of the great city.

Your grandmother wrote me not too long ago…

Calon sighed, his ocean eyes beginning to skim through the lengthy letter. Goodness his mother could prattle on for pages! And it seemed over things that were hardly noteworthy at all. It seemed the longer he was away, the longer her letters became. She oft spoke of childhood times when he and his brother were still dutifully hers and growing boys. Neither he nor Remlas had lost all love for their mother, and indeed neither had ever dreamt of thinking ill of her. In fact, they both adored her; it was the manner in which such affection was shown that had changed. Both boys still held a bit of a wild spirit still, though they had matured into men and now had to take on responsibilities that they had not previously had.

He laid one leaf of parchment down, eyes skimming the next page of elegant handwriting. He was about to put that down as well and move to the last page when certain words caught his eye. Immediately he sat straighter and leaned over his desk a bit more and frowned.

Oh! Your brother has been in fine spirits lately. He came home not but a few nights ago with a smile I have never seen upon him before. Remlas was ever so pleased, and you shall never guess as to why! I do believe your brother is well interested in a visiting lady from Minas Tirith. I do wonder if you have seen her, though I have not seen her myself.

Remlas said she was fair, with dark hair and grey eyes. Originally from Belfalas, I suppose. He spoke of how she was lovely to listen to, as well. That she often looked to sing and dance. But what truly captured him, I think, is the adventurous spirit she seems to have. They were walking along the beach for some time, and ended up climbing one of the smaller cliffs—by her suggestion! I have never known a young lady so vivacious. Apparently she has taken a liking to archery as well, and has been out with Remlas near twice a week to practice with him. I should think that you will like her yourself once you meet her. I do think it is near time for your brother to settle down, though. He is quite ready, I think…

Calon near leapt from his seat and reached for the unopened envelope that had come to him from Beleth. He had given his mother’s letter precedence today; so that he would have something better to read when he had finished that would lighten his mood again. But now! Calon’s eager eyes scanned Beleth’s letter as well, though found in it very little comfort.

He grunted angrily, and put both letters upon his desk, whipping around his room to begin pacing. He was not supposed to go to Belfalas for another two weeks. But this. He could not let this continue. Remlas and Beleth? Horrid match! Why, she could not even imagine a single thing she should like in him.

Truly, the thought that he and his brother were very much alike did not cross his mind. He had never thought them more different than at the moment. He stopped walking and made up his mind, defiantly going to blow out his candle that burned beside his desk. He would right this right now. He turned and left his room, passing through the sitting room where his grandparents were sitting.

“I shall be back shortly,” the words were quick, and not as warm as was his usual but before either grandparent could ask why he was heading outside as the sun set, he was gone.

I shall take the time off early. I shall leave in two days rather than two weeks. I shall go, and I shall see her. I shall win her back. These thoughts seemed to play over and over again in his mind as he marched his way to the Stables. Faeldor had told him absently earlier that he was staying the night, though Calon imagined it was slightly troubling to the man himself. The last he heard, his Lady was rather sick and staying in his home.

He best not have touched her. Beleth cannot be my sister, she must be my wife. She is the woman I am to marry, I know it.

He rounded the corner, breezing into the main way of the stables, blue eyes searching for Faeldor amidst the stalls. “Master Faeldor,” he found him not too far from the stall of the sick mare that Denethor claimed as his own mount. “I know I set my days to take leave for a fortnight away.” His words were dreadfully serious, and his face certainly looked grave. “I regret to say that I must leave sooner than this. My brother has gotten himself into a bit of trouble. Might I take my leave tomorrow instead?” The words all came in one breath, and the man finally relaxed.

A day for packing, leaving the day after before dawn. He would ride hard; he could get there in a mere three days if he tried hard enough. But the letter had been sent probably nigh on two weeks ago! What if he had lost her already? No, he could not think of such things. He needed to get there quickly. Now, if only the Valar were on his side and made the Stable Master to agree to letting him go.

[Faeldor]

The Stable Master seemed to come from a daze as Calon approached him. Faeldor had taken little sleep as of late; and a night spent amidst the stables with a sick mare would do him no better; though perhaps to simply care for the horses would save him the trouble of sitting by Gilwen’s bedside and worrying for her for hours on end. Perhaps he would even sleep better here tonight, despite the work to be done, and be well rested to stay by Gilwen’s side the next evening.

He studied Calon closely as he approached, standing from his work. It appeared that the man had a matter of importance to speak with him, for he had never seen him with such a look on his face. Perhaps a cheerful look, in times past, and more recently a contemptful or angry glare at times, though they had not held harsh words.

Calon lay his request at the Stable Master, and though at times Faeldor had wished to make this man’s work particularly more difficult or gruelsome for the favor he had paid toward his sister; that time had seemingly passed. Calon had always shown his fine work ethic, and had even since been promoted to one of the few grooms that the Steward’s stable bore. And his request did seem an honest one. It sounded that his family was in need; and Faeldor knew well the importance of caring for one’s family, especially his siblings. He knew nothing of Calon’s brother, though if he were in some trouble, it was important for him to go early; especially for the time it would take him to travel home.

“Of course,” he answered. “A matter of family loyalty is of great importance, and I daresay you have hardly taken a day off at all this summer.” Perhaps the lack of days off had been for the labor that Faeldor had set him to in the first place; but the man had not complained to him at least. Another fine trait, which had led to the recent promotion. And Calon had been working well even in his higher position. Faeldor need not have waited so long to put him in that empty space.

The man had always know that Calon was of Belfalas; though Narbeleth was hardly on his mind this day, and Calon’s request had been to visit his own family. Certainly, had he been of sharper mind he would have considered the fact that his young sister would be near enough to visit; and without Faeldor’s supervision. However, his mind was troubled with Gilwen’s state at the moment; and even then, though he did not outwardly show it yet; his acceptance of Calon was growing. The only thing that was truly keeping his sister at length from the family now was the danger of the roads, for he would have asked her back in an instant now had he the chance to bring her. Right now though, Gilwen’s heath was at risk, and he could not leave her. He mused over the matter. If he would not be planning on taking days off for outings with Gilwen, nor to fetch his sister, Calon was certainly at free reign to take some time. In fact, this was a good time for it.

“Yes, take all the time you need, for your family’s sake. Your job will be waiting on your return. I could not find a better suited man,” he finished, moving to go back to his work as the matter was settled in his thoughts. “Just be safe in your travels; the roads seem to be darkening, and Gondor should not lose another man to the ravages of the orc on the plains…” he commented, then sighed, quite lost in his thoughts, and picked up the brush which he had been working over the coat of one of the Steward’s horses.