Brithiach: West Bank of Sirion

The river Sirion flows quietly from the northeast here. Windswept plains of gorse and grass grow right up to its edge. The river is shallow enough here to be forded and the road seems to continue on the other side. To the West the road skirts along the north edge of a forest. Silvery green birches and pines dominate its growth, and a high hill amidst stands out as well to the south.

The breeze comes in gusts that set the old leaves of autumn swirling about the camp. It's warm, much more so than is usual for mid-spring. The watchfires glitter in the night around the camp, smaller than they had been only a month ago, except for the cook-fires. The camp is mostly quiet, though the shifts of the watch mean at least a certain number of people are awake and working quietly.

Branwyn is sitting at a fire near the edge of the Doriathrim section, alone and staring thoughtfully at the fire. Her longbow and quiver are laid aside, near to where she is stretched out, propped up by her hand under her head as she stares at the flames.

Despite the quiet of the camp, it seems that Aldawin cannot sleep. Opening the healer's tent flap to the flickering campfires and hushed conversations about them, the Beor healer draws a shawl about her shoulders and steps free of the shelter, making way to one of the fires. She is not long there, however, before her travelling gaze finds a familiar elleth--or what seems to be--seated nearer the Doriathrim's camp. Soon, her steps are set in that direction to confirm such.

Some rather painfully off-key humming signals that another is awake, a girl of the Haladin. Her long dark hair is unbound, and she combs the tangles out of it as she hums to herself, beginning to absently wander from low campfire to campfire. Her steps will eventually lead her to the one by which Branwyn rests, but she does not look in that direction yet.

The sound of approaching footsteps, though not loud, brings Branwyn's head up in that direction. Coming in her direction is Aldawin, and the sight moves her to sit up straight. A glance at the fire shows it in need of tending and she leans over to add another small branch to it. A pot on the stones around it holds a pot that steams lightly and she waves a hand over it to check its temperatue. Done, she glances up again and lifts a hand to the Adan healer in greeting.

A smile comes to the healer's face with Branwyn's greeting--confirmation that it is indeed the marchwarden seated beside the fireside there. The arrival of the young Haladin woman is not yet noticed, nor acknowledged quiet yet, though the Beor catches the movement in the corner of her eye. "It has been long, mellon," Aldawin says quietly; the smile she holds is somehow somber in its cast as she joins the marchwarden near the fire; orange-yellow flames are reflected off the glittering grey gaze.

The humming falls silent as the young Haladin approaches the fire that Branwyn and Aldawin have gathered about. "I didn't think there would be other people up at this hour," she pipes up eagerly, the fire's light showing a rather crooked smile upon her face as she approaches. "I've taken to sleeping at odd hours, recently, and I can't seem to make myself adjust. I'm terribly hungry, is that food in there?" She gestures at the steaming pot by the flames. "I hope I'm not intruding ... am I?"

Branwyn's smile to Aldawin is welcoming, its warmth echoed by the glow in her eyes. "Too long, mellon. You look much recovered, I am happy to see. Will you sit with me a bit?" The sound of humming interrupts and she turns her head to see the source. The slight girl seems almost a child to the Doriathrim and her open unselfconcious approach brings an amused grin. "Aye, little one. There is stew there, if you have not eaten. There are a few plates there by the fire, and bread in the cloth beside it. Help yourself, if you wish. But I would know your name? I have not seen you here before.."

With the Haladin girl's approach--called attention to by Branwyn's greeting, Aldawin turns to welcome the girl, and to motion her to join at the circle of the fire. "I am well-healed enough to do my craft," Aldawin says gratefully to Branwyn. "Though I will need to work back to the use of my weapon again. Given one or the other, I would choose healing, of course." Still, there seems a loss about the fact. "There are others, such as yourself, who may guard the forests. In time, I will too."

The Haladin girl's interest in the pot of food rekindles the faint smile upon Aldawin's lips. "You seem to have chosen the right fire to wander to," she says, sitting at last. "I am Aldawin, a healer of Dorthonion."

"I'm Hele," The girl replies, still smiling amiably. "I just came up a day or two ago with my younger brother," she then explains as she takes a plate and a peice of bread. "He's been anxious to come up here since the fighting started, but mother always said he was too young. He turned eighteen, though, and after that mother couldn't stop him, so she sent me along after him to make sure he didn't get into any trouble, even though.." The youth pauses and flushes slightly. "I'm rambling, aren't I?" she asks, ladeling stew onto her plate and then settling back to eat it. "It's nice to meet you, Aldawin ..." She glances towards Branwyn questioningly, awaiting an introduction.

Branwyn's eyes go to Aldawin as she speaks and she answers warmly, "With the wound you took, I would say you have done better than many might. If you have recovered this much, the rest will come, with patience. Though I know you wish it were different." Her eyes dance with amusement as she turns her attention to the girl. "Well met then, Hele. I am Branwyn, commander of the Doriathrim here in Brethil. What is your brother's name, so I will know to look out for him?" As Branwyn studies the slight girl, there is just a hint of something more somber about her expression than at first.

"Aye," Aldawin says to Branwyn's warm words. "It will come." There seems a promised shared in that utterance. Though, quickly, she turns once again to Hele. "Welcome, Hele," she says, the smile still held upon her face, if faintly. "Your parents have been wise to keep you both from the camp as long as they have. Tell your brother to go with caution away from the camp." She says no more of this, her gaze instead lowering to the plate of stew that the girl holds in her hand.

"Ethem," Hele replies to Branwyn, scooping up some of the stew on her plate with a chunk of bread and eating it appreciatively before continuing. "He's a good deal taller than I ... he claims I barely reach his elbows. It's not true, I come all the way up to shoulder height. He's skinny, though, not as much flesh on his bones as he would like. I told him it would be best to stay, but he's a boy, and boys have trouble listening. I think I shall just stay and help with the work of camp as I can ... I am certainly no hand with an axe."

Aldawin smiles at this, and she draws the shawl closer over her shoulders, twining her fingers into the wide loops of its knit as she looks to Hele. "What would you like to help with in camp? I might use a hand or two at the healer's tent if you feel inclined."

Branwyn's quick glance back at Aldawin brings with it a warm smile, but her attention returns to the Haladin as well. She gives an almost inaudible sigh of relief when Hele says she intends to stick to camp duties and her smile deepens. "Etham.. and he is taller, you say? How well does he use a axe, or is he an archer? Has he hunted much? Tis always well to know what a person can do before they must fight, especially young human boys." Her tone of voice is almost teasing, though gently.

"Oh, I hadn't the slightest idea when I came," Hele admits, laughing sheepishly. "I thought keeping Ethem out of trouble would be the greatest service I could do, but that really can't occupy me all the time. As for Ethem, he's skillful enough at the bow, though he's quite lightweight. His arrows fly true, but don't hurt as much as they ought. He's absolutely hopeless at the axe, too, complains of being tired after half an hour of just chopping wood." The lass pauses, wrinkling her forehead and noticeably trying to follow her train of thought back to where she had meant it to go.

"We must all start somewhere," Aldawin says with a growing smile to Hele, "Though the dangers here do not wait for those unprepared in weaponry. Tell your brother to stay close to others of his kin, and do not wander. Better yet, tell him to stay to camp until his skill in the bow is honed." She trades a solemn glance with Branwyn, and thought creases her own brow in the interim.

Branwyn chuckles quietly. "Perhaps I can make sure that Etham has more time to train before he is allowed out of the camp. The Haladin rangers and scouts have their own training, and if I mention a word to them, they will be more than willing to be sure he is ready, regardless of how anxious he is. Would that be an aid to your effort to keep him out of trouble? Even if you help Aldawin and the other healers, he would be near enough for you to keep an eye on him." Branwyn reaches into the food sack laying next to the bread and pulls out a cloth-wrapped package. Loosening the cloth, she lays it out so that both the other woman can reach the cheese and takes a piece for herself.

Having managed to clean her plate in an incredibly short time, Hele sets the dish to the side. "That would help," she says with an earnest nod at Branwyn. "If he's trained hard he'll be to tired to get into mischeif, and it'll take the edge of his eagerness for a time. Mother and I say that boy hasn't been worked enough in his life, but he's the youngest so everybody spoils him anyway. Even I do sometimes, though I try not to catch myself at it." The girl pauses, and then rather abruptly stands up. "Well, I've taken enough of your time, and now that I am no longer hungry I think I shall sleep like a rock, if rocks sleep soundly. Some of them look as though they do not. I shall run to the healer's tent in the morning and see if I can be of use, and then I shall ask around and find out where the very grimmest, meanest, toughest trainers can be found and send my brother to them. It was nice meeting you two. Good night!"

Aldawin reaches for a piece of the cheese offered her by Branwyn, though does not eat from it yet, stopping to listen to Hele's chatter yet again--quelling a smile at its end. "Aye, you do that, Hele. I am sure that the Haladin will take you up on that task, and I shall be grateful to have help, now that Meg has gone back to the Hill." She watches after the Haladin girl, though looks to Branwyn as Hele is out of earshot. "She is a welcome change from the gloom that seems spent to the camp." Another look to the piece of cheese and Aldawin takes a small bite, chewing slowly as she again considers inwardly, in silence.

Branwyn listens to the young's chatter with pleasure and lifts a hand in farewell. "I think you will rest well enough, Hele. You have a good head on your shoulders for one so young. Good night to you, mellon." She watches the girl leave, a somewhat surprised look on her face. "Aye, she is indeed. She reminds me very much of some of my people's children, though she has more sense than they do at that age, for we mature later." Shaking her head, she turns her face back to Aldawin and smiles. "I have something of yours that I have kept for you, against your return. It may give you something to strengthen your arm with when you exercise." Standing quickly, Branwyn takes a few steps to her tent and reaches inside to pull out a bundle. Bringing it back to the fire, she opens the cloth and holds it out to Alda with a wry grin. "Your sword, mellon.

Aldawin watches in interest as Branwyn speaks of having something for her; the grey gaze follows her to the tent and there remains until the elleth returns. With the revelation of the short sword, Aldawin's expression warms to a smile. "You have kept it for me all this time?" she wonders; her eyes sparkle with gratitude. "I thank you, mellon. There have been other things upon my mind, though I was going to ask after it when I next saw Istadris." She takes the weapon almost gingerly and stands to her feet before molding a right-handed grip to its hilt. Much like a fighter would test a blade's balance, Aldawin moves the short sword in a forward sweep, though the discomfort this causes is apparent in the slightest flinching of her expression. Covering with a smile, she takes a seat once again, setting the sword across her lap. "My thanks, again."

Branwyn watches with pleasure as Aldawin tries out the sword, though she almost winces in sympathy as she sees the limits the healing wound place on the Adan's movement. "It will grow easier, and I thought perhaps that working with it a little at time might make the exercise more enjoyable. I know how hard you worked for the skill you had.. and will have again, I am sure." Satisfied with the effect of her gift, she sits back down, this time with her legs stretched out before her. "I had just returned myself when I heard the news that you had as well. I had meant to look for you, but there has been so much to catch up on here that I had not had the chance yet." She glances around the camp, still fairly quiet around them. "Indeed, I think this is the first time I have had to merely sit and think alone."

Though the sword has been set crosswise upon the healer's lap, she turns the blade over slowly; the flickering firelight plays upon the gleaming blade. "This is a fine weapon, and aye, it will make my practices worthwhile." She chuckles softly, blinking. "Far better than those horrid practice blades I used to train with in Ladros." Aldawin looks to the fire and its leaping flames, which dance with a passing, almost warm breeze. She lapses to silence, though in a moment lays claim to the quiet thoughts which engage her. "There has been much to happen recently, even since my return, and not much time to reflect."

Branwyn sighs. "Aye, there has. And some of it hurts to think about." Her eyes skim over the Edain part of the camp. "Sometimes I wonder if I choose well when I became a warden. Long have I known the Haladin and helped guard their land. And many have I seen fall over the years, Edain and Eldar both. Yet it never gets easier." Green eyes turn to Aldawin as she adds. "I never thought, so long ago, that one day I would find myself a commander of others..."

"You did not?" Aldawin wonders; it seems unlikely to her by the questioning in her gaze. "What thoughts did you hold sway when thinking of where your path would lead?" the healer wonders, tilting her head slightly with the question. A wistful smile tugs at one corner of her mouth. "I did, for myself, know that my questions of the Lady Haleth would send me to healing both Edain and Eldar as well. Nor that her suggestion I learn to wield a weapon would aid in my service since leaving Dorthonion." Again, she tugs at the shawl, grey gaze resting upon the short blade below. "We none of us know what lies ahead upon this earth. Man or Elf. In that, at least, we share uncertainty."

Branwyn almost seems to blush and her eyes drop to the fire. "I had a rather strange childhood, for one of the Eldar, for my mother died in childbirth with me. That is unusual, and because the bonds between parents and child are so tight for us, it was my father who was my role model. He is still a warden and now my commander as well, but when I started, it was a child, tagging along behind him whenever he was within the borders. When it turned out I had skill at arms, and learned woodcraft so easily, it seemed natural that I would follow him as a warden as well. By the time I realized where my skills might take me, I had grown to love it too much to wish to give it up. But I think I sometimes try to measure myself by what he has done, and often find myself wondering if he would make the same decisions I do, or if he would have done better." The smile she gives Aldawin is a rueful. "My apologies, Aldawin. I usually keep my doubts to myself, but I have made some decisions lately that may remove me from my command, if I have chosen wrong. Hardly the topic I would have picked to welcome you back with."

Aldawin is silent for a moment after Branwyn speaks. ..As if the words continue in a breath, or cadence of their meaning long after they are spoken. "I am glad you have shared that with me." Her grey gaze flits upwards to meet that of the woman's own. "Sometimes there is more to a healer than stitching and bandages. In that, most of us could be healers if we but took time to listen to one another." She looks to the fire, then leans to meet the other's gaze once more; it holds assurance. "You have the benefit of the wisdom of the Eldar. You will make your decision without doubt when it is time."

Branwyn chuckles quietly. "You are right about healers, for they must deal with wounds of the mind and heart as well as the body, or so we are taught. Tis not that often I doubt myself and even less so that I speak of it to any. But I am done with worrying, for my decisions turn out to be wrong, well, at least I have made the best ones I can. So we will speak of it no more." A glance at the sky and she adds. "I should make the rounds tonight, since I am doing nothing useful sitting here thinking. " The smile she gives Aldawin is warm. "I am quite pleased you are back, mellon. We will speak again soon, and of more pleasant things, I am sure." Standing, she leans down to pick up longbow and quiver, and the helm that lays beside them. With a last smile, she hurries off towards the outer sentry posts.