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haebinHey, my lovely friends. I am sorry for posting my newest chapter a little bit later today but it is still Sunday, right? ♥
So, I hope you'll enjoy it! And thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me.
During the winter, Anwyn and her father spent time with Conall, his wife and child either by the fire of their own home or that of the half-elf. They became fast friends through the long periods of freezing cold, dark skies and constant snowfall. Anwyn accompanied Eleri's pregnancy and took care of her when she went into labor at the end of the cold season.
Nervousness and fear filled her, for Eleri's descent would be Anwyn's first birth in which she took on the role of midwife.
She had prepared herself by reading numerous books and having long, intensive conversations with the village healer in order to be able to assist Eleri during these hours.
As Anwyn wanted to prevent the half-elf from lying in painful labor for hours or, in the worst case, for days, she had made a tea from blackberry leaves as she knew that they stimulated labor, relieved cramps and were also anti-inflammatory.
When the birth began, Conall had withdrawn silently into the corner, his green eyes nervous, his son on his lap.
The worry was evident on his face, for pregnancy and childbirth were always associated with great risk for half-elves.
Anwyn had boiled hot water and linen cloths that lay on a small table next to the bed. While Eleri struggled with the contractions, drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe, Anwyn rubbed her hands with alcohol to disinfect them. The contractions came at shorter and shorter intervals and she was aware that the moment she had been preparing for had arrived. She sent a prayer to all the gods she knew and knelt on the edge between Eleri's spread thighs. With gentle and patient words, she urged her friend to push, pause or take a deep breath until the newborn slipped from its mother's womb into Anwyn's hands. Eleri sobbed as she recognized her child in her friend's arms.
Anwyn laid the baby on a clean cloth, tied the umbilical cord with an animal sinew and then cut it with a knife that had also been cleaned and disinfected. She carefully cleaned the newborn with a warm mixture of water, salt and milk and then placed it on Eleri's half-naked torso.
Anwyn's eyes grew teary with emotion as she watched the exhausted mother gaze lovingly at her newborn, stroking the soft fuzz on his head, then touching all his fingers tenderly and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
With a smile on her lips, Anwyn turned in Conall's direction and beckoned him to her. He stood up a little unsteadily with his son in his arms, walked towards the bed and carefully settled down on it. He bent down to his wife and stroked her hair lovingly.
Silent and filled with happiness, Conall sat next to Eleri while his son sat on his lap and studied the newborn with fascination.
Without a word, Anwyn took the placenta, placed it in a sterile cloth and left the house. As she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath of the icy air and then walked through the courtyard towards the spring. Over the last few days, she had had the arduous task of digging a small hole close to a young tree. It had taken Anwyn what felt like an eternity to loosen the snow and the hard layer of ice and dig a small hole the size of the placenta she now stood in front of. She got down on her knees, pushed aside the snow that had fallen on top of it again and placed the placenta inside, then added the earth that lay in a small pile next to the hole she had dug and tapped it down.
She left her hand on the earth for a moment before standing up and rubbing her hands over her upper arms as she was cold. Even the woolen clothes she was wearing did more than a poor job of protecting her from the cold. But the heavy coat at least protected Anwyn from the worst of the winter cold. By kneeling on the ground, however, the icy frost had crept straight into her bones and soaked the fabric of her woolen coat. Before she would go back to Eleri to make sure there were no complications after the birth, she would have to go to her house and change her clothes.
Anwyn walked a few steps when suddenly a faint whimper reached her ear. Surprised, Anwyn stopped and looked around, frowning. Was there an animal nearby? In this cold?
It would be unusual, because even though spring was not far away, it was still bitterly cold, the ground was frozen and there was hardly any food. There, another sound. Anwyn carefully took a step into the snow and slowly leaned forward when she suddenly spotted something bright moving faintly under a light layer of snow.
She got down on her knees, pushed the snow off the animal's fur with a gentle hand movement and realized that it was a small puppy. When it felt Anwyn's fingers on its fur, it let out a soft whimper that touched her deeply. Without even a moment's hesitation, she carefully took him in her hands and hid him under her cloak as she hurriedly walked back to her house. As she opened the door with a worried look on her face, her father looked up and only a breath later asked if the birth had gone well. She suspected that he had misinterpreted her expression and told him that the birth had gone without a hitch and that Conall and Eleri were once again parents to a son.
Then Anwyn pulled the little puppy out from under her coat and handed it to her astonished father, who looked questioningly at his daughter. Anwyn took off her coat, grabbed a cloth from a shelf and carefully took the puppy from the old fisherman's hands. She sat down on the bed, gently positioned the dog on her thighs and began to rub him dry. Doran watched his daughter and muttered dejectedly that the puppy would have no chance of surviving this, as it was more dead than alive without its nursing mother. Anwyn looked at her father, shaking her head, although she suspected he might be right. But as long as the little puppy, lying exhausted and whimpering on her thigh, drew another breath, she would not give up on him.
For the next few hours, Anwyn was busy looking after the puppy. As she wanted to keep an eye on Eleri and the newborn at the same time, she took the puppy, hugged it carefully to her chest and hid it under her heavy woolen cloak as she left her house and walked to the Conalls. When Brin discovered that Anwyn had found a puppy, he didn't know what was more exciting for him. The arrival of his little brother or the puppy snuggling up to Anwyn for warmth. Over the next few days, he busily helped care for the pup while Anwyn looked after his mother and the newborn.
While Eleri put her son to the breast and let him drink, Anwyn made her a tea from stinging nettles, as this was beneficial for the regression of the uterus and could prevent inflammation.
She examined Eleri while Conall held the newborn in his arms and gazed at it, filled with deep happiness. Since Bryn was so fascinated by the little puppy, the half-elf suggested that Anwyn spend the next days and nights with them so that they could concentrate on nurturing the puppy.
Doran also spent the next few days in the half-elves' house, looking after Bryn and happily taking the child from Conall when he was tending the fire or took care of the animals. When it got late in the evening, he would retire to his house while Anwyn shared Bryn's bed, the mostly sleeping pup between them. The young child watched every step she took to nurture the little puppy. She cut the meat of deer or fallow deer into small cubes and then mashed it with a knife into a paste, which she gently smeared around the little puppy's muzzle so that it could lick it off. It was almost a miracle for Anwyn to see how the small and weak puppy grew stronger and gained weight with each passing day. After a few days when he started to stumble around uncertainly and explore his surroundings, she put small amounts of the meat mash directly in his mouth and on his tongue and watched happily as he swallowed it. The next step Anwyn took was to form the meat into small balls and let him eat them from the hollow of her hand.
When Doran also saw that the little puppy was getting stronger and more curious every day, he called him a little miracle and so the dog got the name he now bore. Yarrow.
The puppy's condition had improved with each passing day and it soon became apparent that he had a curious and cheeky character. He plodded confidently behind Anwyn and Bryn and demanded to be stroked with a high-pitched yip, which the two were only too happy to comply with. Her father, Eleri and Conall had also quickly lost their hearts to the little rascal. When Trálír had finally found his way to Anwyn after the long winter, he stood patiently at the gate as Yarrow ran towards him barking wildly with the intention of showing the stranger his limits as quickly as possible and driving him out of his territory. Since Trálír already knew from the letters with Anwyn that she had saved the little dog, he got down on his knees and held his hand to the gate, which Yarrow sniffed at with interest. When Anwyn finally opened the gate and fell into Trálír's arms with a radiant laugh and kissed him effusively, the young dog was infected with joy and began to jump up at Trálír. With an affectionate smile, the elf released himself from the embrace of his beloved, knelt down once more and showed Yarrow his hand.
The young dog sniffed at it with interest, then decided he liked the stranger and let Tralir stroke him gently. It only took a few moments before Yarrow rolled onto his back and showed Anwyn's sweetheart his soft puppy belly to be stroked. With a grin, Trálír looked up at Anwyn, who responded with a tender look.
Days later when Anwyn opened the door to her house, the first thing Anwyn saw was her father sitting on the edge of the bed, a mug of tea in his hands, lost in thought. Yarrow lay beside the old man, resting his chin on his thigh. When Doran heard the door open, he raised his eyes and smiled almost apologetically as Anwyn looked at the little dog sleeping happily next to her father with a slight grin on her lips.
“Your catch was crowned with success today,” she began the conversation and closed the door behind her. Yarrow opened his eyes, recognized his mistress, yawned and then relaxed and rolled onto his side, not letting it bother him that she went to her father's clothes chest, opened it and took out fresh, dry clothes.
“Conall is a gifted fisherman,” Doran replied affirmatively. “It's not just his uncle's knowledge that leads him to the places with the most fish, but an innate feeling.”
Anwyn closed the clothes chest and nodded.
“He's a great help to me,” the old man added quietly and rose slowly, placing the mug of tea on the table. He looked at his daughter with a sigh and scowled.
“You don't have to help me, Anwyn,” he said sullenly, pointing to the clothes in her hands. “I'm not that old and doddering yet that you have to help me change.”
“Yes, I know,” his daughter replied patiently. “But it's easier for you if I help you, isn't it?”
Doran grimaced and Anwyn knew that this was his way of expressing how uncomfortable he felt about being a burden on his daughter. Even if he didn't say a word about it, it pained him that his physical ailments limited him so much that he was ultimately dependent on his daughter's help. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and raised his arms upwards so that Anwyn could reach for the waistband of his shirt to take it off. His upper body was damp from the slightly wet shirt that had been exposed to the work on the sea, the constant waves and the pulling out of the fishing nets, as was his pants. Anwyn patiently ignored her father’s disgruntled grumbling as she dried him off and then helped him put on the dry cotton trousers. She heard him sigh with relief despite his mock displeasure. Anwyn helped him put on a simple but dry and clean tunic and as he sank back onto the bed, Anwyn placed the clothes on a stool to be washed at the spring the next morning. Reaching to the top shelf, Anwyn picked up a jar, opened it and knelt down.
“Where is the pain most unbearable, Father?” Anwyn asked, spreading the ointment between her hands.
“It's not so bad, Anwyn,” the old fisherman replied lamely and saw his daughter shake her head.
“It's much worse in winter,” he added quietly.
“But even now you're in pain. And we don't have to ignore it if the ointment gives you a little relief.”
Doran grimaced.
“Well?” Anwyn raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“The hands,” Doran murmured in reply and took a deep breath as his daughter worked the ointment into his aching fingers with skillful movements. He closed his eyes and felt its warming effect unfold.
Anwyn straightened up, cleaned her hands with a clean cloth and pressed a gentle kiss to her father's head.
“Let me help you, Father,” she said softly. “All your life you have looked after me, you have cared for me even though the loss of my mother was so heavy on your heart. Now it's up to me to look after you.”
The old fisherman looked up at her sadly from his light blue eyes.
“You are not a burden to me or anyone else on this farm,” she added tenderly, her gaze speaking of the deepest love for him. Her father's eyes grew moist and he nodded sheepishly.
“And now let us go to Eleri, she has invited us to supper. There will be a delicious, hearty soup and home-baked nut bread.”
Anwyn patted her father gently on the shoulder and helped him to stand up. Yarrow lifted his head sleepily and when he realized his pack was on the move, he hopped off the campsite and followed them out of the house to Cornall and Eleri's home.
As Anwyn raised her hand to knock on the door, Yarrow began barking to announce their arrival and Brin opened the door, beaming with joy.
“Yarrow!” he exclaimed happily, getting down on his knees and petting the little dog lavishly. His younger brother wobbled around the room on his chubby little legs, then slumped to the floor next to his older brother and carefully reached for Yarrow's fur, who turned around enthusiastically and licked the little half-elf's face with great devotion, making him laugh happily.
Eleri shook her head with a smile, walked towards the door and took her youngest son, who was sitting in the middle of the path, in her arms.
“Come in,” she said in a gentle voice, pointing to the already laid table.
Anwyn closed her eyes with pleasure and breathed in the warm, spicy aroma of the vegetable soup that filled the room. Conall pushed the stools back a little so that Doran and Anwyn could take a seat. Brin climbed onto her lap and she gently put her right arm around his waist to support him. Yarrow lay down at Doran's feet, knowing from past experience that he would always send him a little something from dinner.
The large cauldron of vegetable soup stood in the center of the table, there was a loaf of Deepwater cheese, two freshly baked loaves of still-warm nut bread, pickled vegetables, butter, and a kettle of tea.
Cornall and Eleri also sat down at the table, the little half-elf sitting on his mother's lap.
Anwyn reached for the bread and cut a few slices for herself, her father and Brin. As she smeared the still-warm slices of bread with the butter, it instantly began to melt and the aroma made everyone at the table's mouths water. She handed a slice to Brin and her father while Eleri filled the bowls with soup. Out of the corner of her eye, Anwyn watched as her father cut a small piece of cheese and held it out to Yarrow, who ate it enthusiastically out of his hand. Anwyn could hardly help the broad grin on her face.
While they enjoyed the meal together, Eleri and Anwyn talked about the fact that they still had to prepare the fish. As Conall and Doran had come across a large shoal of haddock today and had filled their nets with them, they would be able to process them into dried fish. All the fish had to be washed and their innards, heads and bones removed. Since the catch had been so successful, Eleri and Anwyn would be busy until late at night. Conall would take care of the animals that still had to be brought back to the stable to spend the night there and Doran had agreed to look after the two little half-elves and bring them to their camp when the time came when there was a sudden knock at the door. The small group looked at each other in surprise, for none of them were expecting a visitor.
Rarely did humans or half-elves seek Anwyn's help when it was this late in the evening, yet there was always someone who could use advice or assistance. She looked up as Conall stood up, walked to the door and opened it. Surprise appeared on his face as he realized who stood before him.
“Mylord?”
Anwyn heard the smile in Trálír's voice as he replied, “You shall not call me Mylord, friend. My name is Trálír.”
He patted the half-elf amicably on the shoulder and stepped through the door as Conall stepped aside to make way.
So, I hope you'll enjoy it! And thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me.
During the winter, Anwyn and her father spent time with Conall, his wife and child either by the fire of their own home or that of the half-elf. They became fast friends through the long periods of freezing cold, dark skies and constant snowfall. Anwyn accompanied Eleri's pregnancy and took care of her when she went into labor at the end of the cold season.
Nervousness and fear filled her, for Eleri's descent would be Anwyn's first birth in which she took on the role of midwife.
She had prepared herself by reading numerous books and having long, intensive conversations with the village healer in order to be able to assist Eleri during these hours.
As Anwyn wanted to prevent the half-elf from lying in painful labor for hours or, in the worst case, for days, she had made a tea from blackberry leaves as she knew that they stimulated labor, relieved cramps and were also anti-inflammatory.
When the birth began, Conall had withdrawn silently into the corner, his green eyes nervous, his son on his lap.
The worry was evident on his face, for pregnancy and childbirth were always associated with great risk for half-elves.
Anwyn had boiled hot water and linen cloths that lay on a small table next to the bed. While Eleri struggled with the contractions, drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe, Anwyn rubbed her hands with alcohol to disinfect them. The contractions came at shorter and shorter intervals and she was aware that the moment she had been preparing for had arrived. She sent a prayer to all the gods she knew and knelt on the edge between Eleri's spread thighs. With gentle and patient words, she urged her friend to push, pause or take a deep breath until the newborn slipped from its mother's womb into Anwyn's hands. Eleri sobbed as she recognized her child in her friend's arms.
Anwyn laid the baby on a clean cloth, tied the umbilical cord with an animal sinew and then cut it with a knife that had also been cleaned and disinfected. She carefully cleaned the newborn with a warm mixture of water, salt and milk and then placed it on Eleri's half-naked torso.
Anwyn's eyes grew teary with emotion as she watched the exhausted mother gaze lovingly at her newborn, stroking the soft fuzz on his head, then touching all his fingers tenderly and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
With a smile on her lips, Anwyn turned in Conall's direction and beckoned him to her. He stood up a little unsteadily with his son in his arms, walked towards the bed and carefully settled down on it. He bent down to his wife and stroked her hair lovingly.
Silent and filled with happiness, Conall sat next to Eleri while his son sat on his lap and studied the newborn with fascination.
Without a word, Anwyn took the placenta, placed it in a sterile cloth and left the house. As she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath of the icy air and then walked through the courtyard towards the spring. Over the last few days, she had had the arduous task of digging a small hole close to a young tree. It had taken Anwyn what felt like an eternity to loosen the snow and the hard layer of ice and dig a small hole the size of the placenta she now stood in front of. She got down on her knees, pushed aside the snow that had fallen on top of it again and placed the placenta inside, then added the earth that lay in a small pile next to the hole she had dug and tapped it down.
She left her hand on the earth for a moment before standing up and rubbing her hands over her upper arms as she was cold. Even the woolen clothes she was wearing did more than a poor job of protecting her from the cold. But the heavy coat at least protected Anwyn from the worst of the winter cold. By kneeling on the ground, however, the icy frost had crept straight into her bones and soaked the fabric of her woolen coat. Before she would go back to Eleri to make sure there were no complications after the birth, she would have to go to her house and change her clothes.
Anwyn walked a few steps when suddenly a faint whimper reached her ear. Surprised, Anwyn stopped and looked around, frowning. Was there an animal nearby? In this cold?
It would be unusual, because even though spring was not far away, it was still bitterly cold, the ground was frozen and there was hardly any food. There, another sound. Anwyn carefully took a step into the snow and slowly leaned forward when she suddenly spotted something bright moving faintly under a light layer of snow.
She got down on her knees, pushed the snow off the animal's fur with a gentle hand movement and realized that it was a small puppy. When it felt Anwyn's fingers on its fur, it let out a soft whimper that touched her deeply. Without even a moment's hesitation, she carefully took him in her hands and hid him under her cloak as she hurriedly walked back to her house. As she opened the door with a worried look on her face, her father looked up and only a breath later asked if the birth had gone well. She suspected that he had misinterpreted her expression and told him that the birth had gone without a hitch and that Conall and Eleri were once again parents to a son.
Then Anwyn pulled the little puppy out from under her coat and handed it to her astonished father, who looked questioningly at his daughter. Anwyn took off her coat, grabbed a cloth from a shelf and carefully took the puppy from the old fisherman's hands. She sat down on the bed, gently positioned the dog on her thighs and began to rub him dry. Doran watched his daughter and muttered dejectedly that the puppy would have no chance of surviving this, as it was more dead than alive without its nursing mother. Anwyn looked at her father, shaking her head, although she suspected he might be right. But as long as the little puppy, lying exhausted and whimpering on her thigh, drew another breath, she would not give up on him.
For the next few hours, Anwyn was busy looking after the puppy. As she wanted to keep an eye on Eleri and the newborn at the same time, she took the puppy, hugged it carefully to her chest and hid it under her heavy woolen cloak as she left her house and walked to the Conalls. When Brin discovered that Anwyn had found a puppy, he didn't know what was more exciting for him. The arrival of his little brother or the puppy snuggling up to Anwyn for warmth. Over the next few days, he busily helped care for the pup while Anwyn looked after his mother and the newborn.
While Eleri put her son to the breast and let him drink, Anwyn made her a tea from stinging nettles, as this was beneficial for the regression of the uterus and could prevent inflammation.
She examined Eleri while Conall held the newborn in his arms and gazed at it, filled with deep happiness. Since Bryn was so fascinated by the little puppy, the half-elf suggested that Anwyn spend the next days and nights with them so that they could concentrate on nurturing the puppy.
Doran also spent the next few days in the half-elves' house, looking after Bryn and happily taking the child from Conall when he was tending the fire or took care of the animals. When it got late in the evening, he would retire to his house while Anwyn shared Bryn's bed, the mostly sleeping pup between them. The young child watched every step she took to nurture the little puppy. She cut the meat of deer or fallow deer into small cubes and then mashed it with a knife into a paste, which she gently smeared around the little puppy's muzzle so that it could lick it off. It was almost a miracle for Anwyn to see how the small and weak puppy grew stronger and gained weight with each passing day. After a few days when he started to stumble around uncertainly and explore his surroundings, she put small amounts of the meat mash directly in his mouth and on his tongue and watched happily as he swallowed it. The next step Anwyn took was to form the meat into small balls and let him eat them from the hollow of her hand.
When Doran also saw that the little puppy was getting stronger and more curious every day, he called him a little miracle and so the dog got the name he now bore. Yarrow.
The puppy's condition had improved with each passing day and it soon became apparent that he had a curious and cheeky character. He plodded confidently behind Anwyn and Bryn and demanded to be stroked with a high-pitched yip, which the two were only too happy to comply with. Her father, Eleri and Conall had also quickly lost their hearts to the little rascal. When Trálír had finally found his way to Anwyn after the long winter, he stood patiently at the gate as Yarrow ran towards him barking wildly with the intention of showing the stranger his limits as quickly as possible and driving him out of his territory. Since Trálír already knew from the letters with Anwyn that she had saved the little dog, he got down on his knees and held his hand to the gate, which Yarrow sniffed at with interest. When Anwyn finally opened the gate and fell into Trálír's arms with a radiant laugh and kissed him effusively, the young dog was infected with joy and began to jump up at Trálír. With an affectionate smile, the elf released himself from the embrace of his beloved, knelt down once more and showed Yarrow his hand.
The young dog sniffed at it with interest, then decided he liked the stranger and let Tralir stroke him gently. It only took a few moments before Yarrow rolled onto his back and showed Anwyn's sweetheart his soft puppy belly to be stroked. With a grin, Trálír looked up at Anwyn, who responded with a tender look.
Days later when Anwyn opened the door to her house, the first thing Anwyn saw was her father sitting on the edge of the bed, a mug of tea in his hands, lost in thought. Yarrow lay beside the old man, resting his chin on his thigh. When Doran heard the door open, he raised his eyes and smiled almost apologetically as Anwyn looked at the little dog sleeping happily next to her father with a slight grin on her lips.
“Your catch was crowned with success today,” she began the conversation and closed the door behind her. Yarrow opened his eyes, recognized his mistress, yawned and then relaxed and rolled onto his side, not letting it bother him that she went to her father's clothes chest, opened it and took out fresh, dry clothes.
“Conall is a gifted fisherman,” Doran replied affirmatively. “It's not just his uncle's knowledge that leads him to the places with the most fish, but an innate feeling.”
Anwyn closed the clothes chest and nodded.
“He's a great help to me,” the old man added quietly and rose slowly, placing the mug of tea on the table. He looked at his daughter with a sigh and scowled.
“You don't have to help me, Anwyn,” he said sullenly, pointing to the clothes in her hands. “I'm not that old and doddering yet that you have to help me change.”
“Yes, I know,” his daughter replied patiently. “But it's easier for you if I help you, isn't it?”
Doran grimaced and Anwyn knew that this was his way of expressing how uncomfortable he felt about being a burden on his daughter. Even if he didn't say a word about it, it pained him that his physical ailments limited him so much that he was ultimately dependent on his daughter's help. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and raised his arms upwards so that Anwyn could reach for the waistband of his shirt to take it off. His upper body was damp from the slightly wet shirt that had been exposed to the work on the sea, the constant waves and the pulling out of the fishing nets, as was his pants. Anwyn patiently ignored her father’s disgruntled grumbling as she dried him off and then helped him put on the dry cotton trousers. She heard him sigh with relief despite his mock displeasure. Anwyn helped him put on a simple but dry and clean tunic and as he sank back onto the bed, Anwyn placed the clothes on a stool to be washed at the spring the next morning. Reaching to the top shelf, Anwyn picked up a jar, opened it and knelt down.
“Where is the pain most unbearable, Father?” Anwyn asked, spreading the ointment between her hands.
“It's not so bad, Anwyn,” the old fisherman replied lamely and saw his daughter shake her head.
“It's much worse in winter,” he added quietly.
“But even now you're in pain. And we don't have to ignore it if the ointment gives you a little relief.”
Doran grimaced.
“Well?” Anwyn raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“The hands,” Doran murmured in reply and took a deep breath as his daughter worked the ointment into his aching fingers with skillful movements. He closed his eyes and felt its warming effect unfold.
Anwyn straightened up, cleaned her hands with a clean cloth and pressed a gentle kiss to her father's head.
“Let me help you, Father,” she said softly. “All your life you have looked after me, you have cared for me even though the loss of my mother was so heavy on your heart. Now it's up to me to look after you.”
The old fisherman looked up at her sadly from his light blue eyes.
“You are not a burden to me or anyone else on this farm,” she added tenderly, her gaze speaking of the deepest love for him. Her father's eyes grew moist and he nodded sheepishly.
“And now let us go to Eleri, she has invited us to supper. There will be a delicious, hearty soup and home-baked nut bread.”
Anwyn patted her father gently on the shoulder and helped him to stand up. Yarrow lifted his head sleepily and when he realized his pack was on the move, he hopped off the campsite and followed them out of the house to Cornall and Eleri's home.
As Anwyn raised her hand to knock on the door, Yarrow began barking to announce their arrival and Brin opened the door, beaming with joy.
“Yarrow!” he exclaimed happily, getting down on his knees and petting the little dog lavishly. His younger brother wobbled around the room on his chubby little legs, then slumped to the floor next to his older brother and carefully reached for Yarrow's fur, who turned around enthusiastically and licked the little half-elf's face with great devotion, making him laugh happily.
Eleri shook her head with a smile, walked towards the door and took her youngest son, who was sitting in the middle of the path, in her arms.
“Come in,” she said in a gentle voice, pointing to the already laid table.
Anwyn closed her eyes with pleasure and breathed in the warm, spicy aroma of the vegetable soup that filled the room. Conall pushed the stools back a little so that Doran and Anwyn could take a seat. Brin climbed onto her lap and she gently put her right arm around his waist to support him. Yarrow lay down at Doran's feet, knowing from past experience that he would always send him a little something from dinner.
The large cauldron of vegetable soup stood in the center of the table, there was a loaf of Deepwater cheese, two freshly baked loaves of still-warm nut bread, pickled vegetables, butter, and a kettle of tea.
Cornall and Eleri also sat down at the table, the little half-elf sitting on his mother's lap.
Anwyn reached for the bread and cut a few slices for herself, her father and Brin. As she smeared the still-warm slices of bread with the butter, it instantly began to melt and the aroma made everyone at the table's mouths water. She handed a slice to Brin and her father while Eleri filled the bowls with soup. Out of the corner of her eye, Anwyn watched as her father cut a small piece of cheese and held it out to Yarrow, who ate it enthusiastically out of his hand. Anwyn could hardly help the broad grin on her face.
While they enjoyed the meal together, Eleri and Anwyn talked about the fact that they still had to prepare the fish. As Conall and Doran had come across a large shoal of haddock today and had filled their nets with them, they would be able to process them into dried fish. All the fish had to be washed and their innards, heads and bones removed. Since the catch had been so successful, Eleri and Anwyn would be busy until late at night. Conall would take care of the animals that still had to be brought back to the stable to spend the night there and Doran had agreed to look after the two little half-elves and bring them to their camp when the time came when there was a sudden knock at the door. The small group looked at each other in surprise, for none of them were expecting a visitor.
Rarely did humans or half-elves seek Anwyn's help when it was this late in the evening, yet there was always someone who could use advice or assistance. She looked up as Conall stood up, walked to the door and opened it. Surprise appeared on his face as he realized who stood before him.
“Mylord?”
Anwyn heard the smile in Trálír's voice as he replied, “You shall not call me Mylord, friend. My name is Trálír.”
He patted the half-elf amicably on the shoulder and stepped through the door as Conall stepped aside to make way.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-22 08:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-02-15 08:00 am (UTC)They weren't planned at all, they just appeared suddenly. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-23 06:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-24 03:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-24 08:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-24 01:17 pm (UTC)Thank you, though!!
♥️♥️♥️