Chapter 10 ~ Farewell
Morwen rapped gently; at Eradan’s answering call, she opened the door and entered. But she stopped abruptly as soon as she was through the door. "Eradan," she said, shocked to find that he was packing his few belongings, "where are you going?"
"Home," he answered simply.
"You cannot be serious . . ." she began before stopping and sighing. "No," she concluded, "I suppose you are right." She crossed to the window and rested her head against the cold stone.
He left his pack unfinished on the bed and joined her by the window. "I have told you before," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I long to join the fight. I have remained here these two months merely because I had not yet gained sufficient strength. Now that I am fully healed, I cannot longer remain."
"I know," she assured him, still staring out the window. "It is just that these long weeks have changed me. I will not know how to spend my time if not tending to your wounds or riding through the woods with you."
"You lived for many years without me," he said kindly, "you will be fine. In a few months you will have forgotten all about the good times we have had."
She felt a lump rise in her throat and she forced it down. No, she commanded herself fiercely, do not cry, Morwen, not here, not in front of him. "Well," she said, striving to sound casual, "do not let me delay you. I will let you return to your packing." With a forced smile, she left the room, fleeing to the stables.
Eradan remained by the window, watching her go. He would miss her; miss her a great deal. But she was not for him. What had he to offer but a miserable existence in Minas Tirith? No, he should leave right away.
~*~*~*~
Out in the stables, Morwen saddled Eradan’s horse. She knew he would be out soon and she felt she had to do something for him. She could not simply let him ride away without even a farewell. She felt the tears begin to fall, but did not care enough to wipe them away. Eradan was leaving, and she would not, could not, hide her grief.
She lifted the saddle onto the horse’s back, running her fingers gently over the girth before fastening it. How many times had Eradan handled the very same strap?
She came to herself with a start. What was she thinking? She did not care what Eradan had touched; she could not care. But no, she decided, no, it was no use. She had changed since Eradan had entered her life. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Upon arriving home, she had fulfilled her promise to Belecthor and had turned away her following. This had left only Eradan to fill her free time and they had spent long hours talking or riding or walking or simply sitting in silence as Eradan read a book and Morwen stitched. In those hours spent alone with him, she had become terribly fond of Eradan. She had not admitted this to anyone, not even to herself, but it confronted her now and she was forced to face it bravely.
She loved him and he was leaving, perhaps never to be seen again. He was off to war and the fact that he might die scared her beyond reckoning. Life was unfair.
She slipped the bridle over the stallion’s head and fastened the throatlatch. She then pulled the steed’s head down until it was on level with her own. "Take good care of Eradan, for me," she whispered, stroking the silky cheek before her. "Bring him back someday."
She turned as Eradan entered the stable, his expression miserable. Stepping out from the stall, she led his horse to him, noting with pleasure the way in which his face lighted upon noticing her.
"My Lady!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I have come to bid you farewell," she answered, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall yet again. "I shall miss you," she said simply, losing the battle against her tears. They fell quickly down her cheeks, leaving wet trails over her fair face.
Eradan, pained by her sorrow, reached up and gently cradled the side of her small face in his large hand, wiping away her tears with his thumb. "Farewell, my Lady," he said, taking the reins from her hand. He strapped his small pack behind the saddle before turning back to her.
Taking her hand in his own, his kissed it gallantly before mounting and trotting his horse out of the stables and into the trees without looking back.
Morwen pressed her hand to her own lips as she watched him disappear into the forest. When, at last, she could see him no more, she fled to the confines of her room, weeping bitterly.
~*~*~*~
Dr_seuss, I hope this met your approval. I remember you said you were waiting on this scene, and this was the best I could do. Hope you liked it. :)