February Kinship Challenge--"Friendship Across Distance"

This is Amdiriel, a dear friend of mine.  I tried to capture her likeness as best I could--it's been a few years or so since I saw her last.  You might be thinking to yourself that that's a name of Stoningland (or Gondor, as some folk call it), and you'd be right.  How did I meet a woman of Stoningland?  Well, it all started a few summers back...

I can still remember it quite clearly.  After all, it's not every day that you get a visitor from all the way in Stoningland.  After helping out around the farm in the morning, I'd gone over to visit Wigmund, my master.  As usual, we spent some time going over the songs and tales he'd taught me most recently, until I could rattle them off in my sleep.  Like he always says, a minstrel's mind is just as important as his voice or his instrument.  Or maybe even more so, for where would I be if I forgot a tale?  Then we really got down to business.  That day, he taught me songs of Brytta Léoffa, son of Fréalaf, and how he earned his name from helping those who needed it most.  

Ah, right, on to meeting Amdiriel.  Master Wigmund had just released me for the day, and so I met up with Léofstan and a couple of friends to head down to the tavern and relax a little.  Well, who should we bump into on the way but Eardwulf and his wife Elwen (she was from Stoningland, you know).  But there was someone else with them--a short dark-haired girl that Elwen introduced as her brother's daughter, who was going to visit with them for the summer in Cliving.  I'll admit, at first, I wasn't quite sure what to make of Amdiriel.  Oh, not that I thought her a bad sort--but she was rather quiet, is all.  Or so I thought at first.

As the days passed, Léofstan and I soon became friends with Amdiriel.  We showed her around Cliving and all the best places to visit.  We even introduced her to Swiftstride and Thunderhoof, which she liked very much. She soon began to show a keen interest in the Riddermark--especially its stories.  I was eager to tell her what I knew, for there's nothing quite so grand as someone hearing a real rip-roarer of a tale for the first time, and I have to admit that I was proud to share the stories that people of the Mark loved so well.  I sang of Eorl and how he became the first king, of Brego his son, and of Aldor the Old and his long reign.  I told stories of kings and shieldmaidens, of brave riders and even crofters and other simple folk.  I even snuck in a few tales of the adventures (or should I say mischief?) that Léofstan and I got up to.  And in return, she told me of Stoningland--of her home and her family.  And let me tell you, you wouldn't think her quiet when she found something she wanted to talk about!  She spoke of books, and how much she loved to read them.  She spoke of them like they were a precious treasure, finer than gold or silver.  Books, she said, could take you to wonderful places if you only let them.  She talked of certain tales, and how opening the pages of a book was like meeting with an old and dear friend, how the writing was like making a picture with words.

She talked of one day writing down the tales that danced in her mind--and the frustration of staring at a blank piece of parchment and trying to get the words out.  And she even taught me something of letters!  I'll admit, Master Wigmund wasn't quite sure what to make of that...  Reading and writing isn't very common among the Eorlingas, save for learned folk.   He said that the songs and tales would fall out of my head, that writing them down would make me forget.  But I'm not so sure that's right.  I love my craft, but I don't think there's anything wrong with books.  A minstrel's voice might fade, but ink and parchment will last for a long time, and so will the songs and stories that we love.

But all good things have to come to end, I suppose.  And in time, that long and happy summer ended, and my new friend left with it.  Back to Stoningland, back to the town and family that she loved so.  She promised to write to me--and that if I ever came to Stoningland, I was to come and visit, which I readily agreed to.  After all, does distance mean anything to friendship?  

And I'm happy to say that we still send each other letters as often as we can.  She's a scribe now in Stoningland, responsible for writing down facts and figures--and she tells me that she's writing a book of stories, as well.  Stories of the Mark!  And not just tales of the kings, either, but the sort of tales that I told her.  Can you believe it?  A whole book of the folk-tales I'd heard as a boy...  There will even be pictures--and she said that she's adding my name to the book, so that all who read it will know of her friend Gladwine son of Léofwine.