The Far Reaches - Free RP

The fair valley of Rivendell, upon whose house the stars of heaven most brightly shone.
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High Lord of Imladris
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To the far ends of Arnor the lost realm west of the Misty Mountains lie tracts of land beyond the control of any King or Lord.

FOROCHEL

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To the extreme north beyond the jagged and dark peaks of the Ettenmoors lies Forochel and it's frigid bay and the North Wastes. This land is a cold and unforgiving climate that few dare live but for all of the harshness there is a strange beauty to it. The great crashing and grinding of the ice in the bay a reminder to any elves of old of the Helcaraxe that was once crossed by many, and failed to be crossed by many more. In those terrible cold waters songs and calls can be heard, some animals others lower deeper, stranger that the locals say are not from any animals of the deep but the ice itself, singing a lullaby to all that would listen.

Further into the Northern Wastes during the summer one can wander fields of short lichens and strange tough plants that cling to rocks in a cold desert where most animals have adapted perfectly to their extreme home of midnight sun. Many birds and small animals change colours from summer to winter, browns and speckles of grey in the summer to whites in the winter however there are great bears heavy set an coloured like ice itself that shuffle about in the Wastes during the summer when the ices of the North have melted away and taken their favoured hunting grounds from them.

Locations: (Not limited to these locations)
Talath Uichel (MERP): The Plain of Eternal Cold is a boulder strewn tundra covered in ice and snow most of the year but during its extremely short summer it does lose its white blanket
Narthalf (MERP): Before the changing of the world this was once a fiery plains. This areas volcanic vents keeps it warmer than the main wastes. A favoured hunting grounds of the Forodbear.
Helecra Isles (Fuin Creation): The birthing place of many icebergs that find their way into the bay and further south.
Narth Cam (Fuin Creation): One of the few permanent settlements of Forochel this camp is used primarily in winter because of the warm vents of Narthalf.
Surt Cam (Fuin Creation): The closest permanent settlement to Arnor it is the summer camp of the Forodwaith.
Talath Inlet (Fuin/MERP hybrid): This inlet is the richest source of food and hunting grounds summer and winter.
ENEDWAITH
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Bordered to the northwest by the Bruinen Enedwaith is a large rolling land, home to the Dunlendings, a tall and powerful race of men, long at odds with the Men of the West having been hunted and persecuted for many years. These men and women call the dusty rolling grasslands and the dunes that give way to mountains their home. Existence in these lands is hard, with little rain and sparce woodlands that mainly is found along the coast and the river banks of the Isen and the Bruinen and rain being as precious a commodity as wood farming and large settlements in the area are few and far between.

This is where the once well maintained and defended North-South Road runs through this land still used occasionally by travelers on their way there are few safe places to rest but if one is careful one can eke out a living in this place.

Locations: (Not limited to these only)
Dunlogan: (Lindefirion.net/Fuin Hybrid) A remote small village where the Dunlendings harvest wood from the nearby woods.
Oclandor (Fuin Creation) Rolling dunes and stoney spires carved by rains that don't fall anymore create a surreal badlands that only the toughest can live in permanently.
Old Pukelands (MERP): Scattered with old ruins that are hidden to all but the most trained eye these lands were once filled with nomadic camps.
Ost in-Edhil - The once home of Celebrimbor and the elven gate way to the Gates of Moria this once beautiful fortress has fallen into utter ruin.
Whalespit (MERP) A small whaling village, and the perhaps where the thought that the Dunlendings and the Forodwaith perhaps share a common ancestor as their methods for hunting are eerily similar.

RULES
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Imladris is primarily set in 3014, but you are welcome to set your RPs in any timeline.
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Chef
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Narv's life is an open story.

That might actually explain why he never knew what the crap was going on, illiterate as he was. "Illiterate," he thought. "I wonder what that means." But mainly he wondered where he was, and why, and why it was so, so cold. Last he knew he'd been a bit... disoriented - in a way it was comforting to know that at least that much had stayed the same.

Flickers began to come back into his mind as he stood and shivered in the cold. The Mordor Pub... many months ago, it felt like, somehow. Eating lava snake... punches thrown.. a few too many orquilla sunsets... disappointing service and restroom conditions... words to the pubmistress... leaving in a huff.. saying screw this place, I'll go somewhere where these fools can't bother me anymore, somewhere private, somewhere I can make my very own.... somewhere primarily set in 3014 maybe..... where use of overly bright colours is kept to a minimum... yes, definitely that, he had thought, as the infamous Orquilla Sunrise had started to kick in the next morning.... then walking, walking, in a slow, plodding huff.... had any of these things actually happened? Sure, he decided. Why not. Sure they did.

"This sucks," he said to Talath Uichel, Plain of Eternal Cold. "I'm leaving."

Balrog
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Forever the Pole-Star
Järvimaa, by the Ered Muil

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A jet of steam burst into the air, white and fiery, then, before it had a chance to escape the bounds of the ice, fell back to the earth and shattered into a thousand tiny snowflakes. The cold today was unimaginable, the sky was a cloudless piercing bright blue and sun seemed only a spot of shimmering yellow far, far above the edges of the world. The wind was quiet, but still had a bite as hard as steel. The peaks of the Ered Muil shone glaucous and the taiga forests below them were wrapped in a coat of white and feldgrau. Aside from the burst of steam, there was not sound to be heard for miles and miles, and even that sound was muted and stifled as soon as it escaped the side of the peak. He looked down below at his world and smiled. Smoke sizzled from his nostril and disappeared in the bright morning air. His people did not like world above ground in winter, they preferred the dark underdeeps with its thousand thousand twisting caverns and tunnels. In this moment, he did not understand why. Winter was a desolate time of year, a lonely one to be sure, but there was such beauty in the silence, such poetry in the form of the snow and ice, such whispers in the chill of the wind. This was the reason he came north, farther north than all the rest of his kin. They were fickle beasts who could not appreciate the literature of the snow nor withstand the harshnesses of the polar world. It was their loss. Whilst they continued to squabble of table scraps, he had constructed his own kitchen and feasted each day like a king. And a king he was, greater and more majestic than Eldar or Númenórean. He shone like red gold in the noonday sun and wore a cloak of twilight shadow. Maltarúcina reveled in the powers he held here. In this world he was supreme. There was none who could challenge him. None greater than a wyrmling had even dared slither up this way in more than two centuries. Järvimaa was his and everyone knew it.

He took in one final breath of frozen air. It filled his lungs until he was sure they would burst from the intensity, then let forth a gush of golden red fire. The fire roared and shook the mountainside. Across the valley the beginning of an avalanche began to trickle down, starting slow then building into raging wave of ice and snow. There was a village below, a village that barely had time to realize it was about to die. They had been late in in their tribute and the paltry devices were unsatisfactory. Every now and then, he had to make sue that the people of his valley, remembered he was more than a dragon, he was their very life and death, he was their god, and it was he that chose if they saw the sun or the great maw of the void. He was, despite this dramatic display, a benevolent god, one that helped his subjects innovate and touch the poetry of their imaginations. He was a dragon; he knew what love was and he knew who had been sincere and who had not. He knew the sugary words meant to hide poison; the fearful words meant to disguise themselves as praise. And his people loved him. Dwarf and human, they loved him. Each year he reigned their harvests had been plentiful, the bounty of the sea and lakes and been nothing short of miraculous. They had known no disease or plague since his advent. No army dared show spear tip or arrowhead, and no false ring lord dared show his face. Still, there needed to be some reminder from time to time. He snaked down the side of the mountain, moving faster and faster until he outran the might of his roar. The snows and crushed the village, flattened it and sank it into the earth, but that was no bar to his strength. The snows, like the people of the valley, melted and did obeisance. He ate his fill of the corpses, frozen in the moment of their final horror. When he was done, there was not a structure left standing nor a person yet breathing. His judgement was sound, and it had been carried out.

His great wings stretched out, gathering the pale warmth of the sun and he swooped back to the peak that had been made his throne. Amgalan stood there, bundled in furs so thick he looked almost spherical. The great dragon-god boomed a raucous laugh as he landed.

“You look cold, my child,” he said, the air steaming with his words.

“I was, Your Grace, but the fire of your belly gives me all the warmth I need.” To prove his devotion, the dwarf unbound the thick woolen scarf from around his neck and let his beard go free. There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a pause, then he exhaled and sent up a small plume of steam into the air that drifted on the chilling breeze.

“You have borne witness to my judgement this day?” Maltarúcina’s voice rumbled and flurries of snow were swept off the mountain.

“I have Your Grace, as you have commanded me.”

The dragon could see the dwarf’s face clear, there twinkles of crystalline tears on his cheeks. “You have done well, good and faithful servant.” He knew the dwarf’s family lived in that village; knew the pain he was feeling. Yet it had been him that informed the dragon of their lateness. He remained faithful while his family had not. He would not punish or reprimand the tears nor the feelings of guilt and confusion. They were as natural as the snow and the winds. He was a god, but he would not pass judgement or sentence upon feelings. He was not some cruel Westerner who called upon the Creator when pressed.

“Go now, Amgalan. I know the preparations you have to make. Take your time to grieve. But do not tarry too long. I have need of you.”

“Your Grace?” the dwarf dared to look up upon the face of his god.

“There was a scent on the wind. An old scent. I have not smelled her in more than an Age.”

“Shall we make preparations for an arrival? I will have the priests ready a ritual at once.”

A growl and a laugh escaped his throat. The high priest knew his role well. He nodded. “Yes and ignite the fires of the forges,” he elongated the ‘s’ sounds as they mixed with a suddenly flurry of wind. “The Red Lady is coming to court, and if she is coming, one of the Silent Ones cannot be far behind.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Trevadir and Devedir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, in the sea near Helecra Isles
February 5th, 3018, TA
Trevadir's 16th birthday


“Good morning, Da-ev.” Trev was trying his best to hold back a big smile as he swiftly altered what he was going to say, remembering the man's annoyance at being called Dad. He had no idea why, but didn't really want to annoy him today. He hoped maybe they could have a rare day where they got along. Maybe they could even spend some time fishing or something.

Dev was busy studying some maps in his cabin, and sighed softly at the interruption. Glancing up, he gave Trev a questioning look before shrugging. “Morning.”

“Do you know what today is?” Trev wondered, practically bursting with excitement.

Dev stared at the boy for a long moment in bafflement. “Thursday.” He answered slowly, before turning back to the maps he had been charting.

“Well, yes.” Trev lost a little of his enthusiasm and sighed, rolling his eyes. “Of course, it’s Thursday. But I meant, you know. The date.”

“It’s the fifth, isn’t it?” Dev asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s right.” Trev grinned, thrilled that he had remembered the date. “The fifth of February!” He added, rocking eagerly on his heels.

“So?” Dev sighed, putting his quill down as he looked back at the young man.

Trev looked back at him for a moment, his excitement slowly fading. “So… well. It’s.. my birthday?” Trev reminded him eventually, heart sinking that he should even have to remind him of that. His father ought to know when his birthday was! How could he forget something like that? Trev was puzzled, and disappointed. Then he thought perhaps Dev had been pulling a trick on him, planning to surprise him. But, seeing the blank look on Dev’s face, Trev realized that wasn't the case. He wasn’t pulling a trick. He simply did not remember.

“So?” Dev asked again, gazing back at him. Nor did he care, apparently.

Trev’s heart sank even further. “So.. it’s… I mean.. aren’t you..” He hesitated. “Don’t you want to say… happy birthday.. or something?” He asked quietly, feeling awkward, stupid, and miserable now.

Dev sighed, rolling his eyes again. “What difference would it make if I said it? So, you're a year older. It doesn’t change whether the day is happy or not.” He pointed out, quite incorrectly. Because, he may not have realized it, but his response had just ruined the entire day for Trev. “If you want to have a happy birthday, then maybe you ought to put in a little more effort toward making the crew like you a little bit.” Dev mentioned, returning to his map.

Trev stared at him. He wasn’t sure his heart could sink any lower. Nor could it ache any harder. He dropped his gaze down to the floor, swallowing hard. After a moment of silence, he managed to fight back the emotions enough to speak again. “S'not like I try to make them hate me,” He mumbled. “I’ve tried to get along with them. They just.. don’t like me.” He sighed and frowned. "And I don't really like them, either." He added, his frown deepening.

“I imagine they’d like you a bit more if you wouldn't do things to irritate everyone and cause us delays. Like that nonsense with that load of supplies back in Umbar, how you kept ‘accidentally’ dropping crates, letting barrels fall off the cart, then the wheel falling off...” Dev glanced up with a knowing gaze, brown eyes narrowed at his son. “I know what you were doing, and I’m sure plenty of the men saw through your act, too. Things like that are going to make you enemies, not friends. And that isn’t a good idea, boy.” He warned him in a stern voice.

“Yeah. Sure, whatever.” Trev mumbled, feeling his anger sweep in to cover the hurt. “I don’t even want to be here.” He retorted, turning to leave, jaw clenching in anger.

“Trevadir.” Dev’s voice was sharp, stopping the young man in his tracks.

Trev turned to look at his father. “What?” He snapped, trying to match his sharp tone, wanting to lash back at him in some manner.

“I won’t always be around to stop them from doing you harm.” Dev warned. "One of these days you're liable to get yourself killed before I can do anything to help you."

Trev scowled. “Like you even care about me.”

You’d better start caring whether they like you or not. If you keep this sort of thing up, you're going to end up with a lot of enemies before long." Dev warned him. "And don't even get me started what the Halsads might do to you, if they learned of your part in that little rescue thing. Be smart, Trev. Stop being so stubborn, and work with me, not against me." He paused, looking at Trev thoughtfully. "I thought you wanted to be father-son, but you sure don't act like it.”

Trev didn't trust his voice well enough to attempt a reply, so instead he merely deepened his scowl before he stormed out of Dev's cabin, into the frigid wind. He slammed the door on his way out, nearly slipping on a thin layer of slushy ice coating the deck. He didn't even even care if the slammed door angered his father. Let him come after him. Let him come out and continue the argument. At least it might actually feel like they were really father and son. He’d love to have it out with the man. He was getting so fed up with everything! If Trev had known what this life would be like before he left his friends… if he had known what his father was like before he went to join him… he never would have. How Trev wished he could be home right now.

His throat tightened with emotion as he strode briskly along the deck, his boots occasionally sliding slightly. He noted, with some disappointment, that Dev did not bother to come after him, or even yell after him. He wanted to slam or hit something. The mast was too hard to punch, so he refrained from that. The deck was too slick to risk kicking at stuff, either. Instead, he found himself gripping the railing on the starboard side of the ship, so hard his knuckles were white. He was shaking, but he couldn't have said whether it was from anger, hurt, or cold. Why did he have to be so stupid? Why didn’t his father care? Vision blurred slightly by unshed tears, Trevadir stared down at the waves around the ship. The lump in his throat swelled until it actually hurt, and he couldn’t swallow.

If he’d stayed home, he would’ve woken up this morning to find his favorite breakfast ready for him. Sweet cream-filled crepes topped with peaches, with bacon and eggs on the side. His grandmother would have fussed and fretted about making sure that he had enough juice, and that his eggs were cooked just right. She would’ve given him a little gift. Nothing much, probably some embroidered handkerchiefs, and maybe one other thing. Toby would’ve given him something too. They would’ve tried to give him the best start to his day. Then Grandma would have had to go to work, and Trev and Toby would’ve had to go to school, but then he could’ve hung out with his friends.

They would have done something fun after, maybe even sneaked out early. Ryn would’ve…no. Ryn couldn’t. But Nal… Nal would’ve come up with some fun idea for them to do. A tear squeezed out of one eye, despite his best efforts to hold it back. Ryn. It was easy to forget about the friend who had died when he was out here, so far from home, away from all the reminders of his absence, often too busy to stop and think about him. But then it would suddenly come back to him, and when it did, it hit him hard.
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:47 am, edited 4 times in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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(warning, brief suicidal thoughts)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, in the sea near Helecra Isles
February 5th, 3018, TA
Trevadir's 16th birthday


Blinking several times while he drew in a shaky breath, Trev raised a hand up and brushed the tears from his eyes. He was sixteen now, for goodness' sake. He shouldn’t be crying! Yet he couldn’t seem to help it. It was like everything had been piling up on him for months now. He was feeling overwhelmed, and starting to feel that he couldn’t bear it anymore. How could he keep going? Was it possible for anything to improve?

His breaths were shaky as he struggled to regain some control over his emotions, but it felt like he was fighting a losing battle inside. He couldn’t return home. His father had made it very clear what would happen if he ever tried to go back. The thought of being arrested and killed was bad enough, but the added thought that it might be a public execution… that his grandmother, brother, and friends might be subjected to seeing such a thing… that was unbearable. It was even more unbearable to think of his family rejecting him because of his supposed criminal association.

Yet, how could he stay here? How could he bear this any longer? Trev put his head down in his hands, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. Fortunately, there was no one else out on deck at the moment. He wanted to be alone and not have to worry about anyone criticizing him. He hated this life. He was miserable. There was no end in sight. These people… they just went around hurting others, destroying lives... anything to make a little money. The thought that his own father would work against Gondor.. that he would get involved in the unspeakable crimes that he involved himself in, all for the sake of getting rich.. it made him sick inside. And what if Trev ended up like them? What if he turned out just like his father? Uncaring, cold-hearted, harsh and stern... cruel to others. He didn’t want to be like that. The thought that he could one day be anything like that, a man who went around causing destruction and harm to anyone who got in his way… no, Trevadir would not become that. He’d do whatever he had to do to prevent himself from becoming his father.

Staring down at the icy waves below, he wondered suddenly… what was Devedir like when he was 16? He remembered hearing that his mother was 16 when she married him. He knew his parents weren’t too far off in age. So what had the boy been like, whom Trevadir’s mother fell in love with? Had he been like Trevadir then? He surely wasn’t the way he was now. He couldn’t imagine his mother even wanting to speak to a man like Devedir, the way he was now. So, if he could become this... did that mean Trevadir could, too? That thought was chilling, and made him shiver. He was fairly sure the cold, stiff breeze coming at his face had nothing to do with it, either.

Flecks of snow whirled and danced around him as he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. Frowning, he realized that he seemed to have a very bleak future stretching ahead of him at this rate. He couldn’t return home, could never see the people he loved, ever again. What was there left for him then? Staying here, fitting in with these pirates and gradually letting his conscious go numb as he became one of them, or.. continuing to defy them until they all hated him, being punished all the time... He couldn’t live like that. Much as he hated the fact that Dev was right, it was true. He’d die from a beating sooner or later, or starve from being denied food, or one of the angered crewmen would end up stabbing him in his sleep or something equally horrible. So, what was there left for him to do? A chilling thought occurred to him as he stared out at the waves. Maybe he’d be better off if he joined Ryn, rather than let himself become that which he hated. That thought frightened him, and yet, as he stared at the frothy waves slapping hungrily at the boat, it seemed almost as if they urged him to jump in. He began shaking harder as he gripped the railing again. It seemed no matter what path he took, he would end up getting killed… so why shouldn’t he…


'No!'


As if spoken from somewhere outside his own thoughts, the word rang sharply through his mind. Trev felt as if the force of the exclamation had jarred him out of a daze. He wasn't even sure if he'd thought it, himself, or heard it spoken from elsewhere, but a blast of wind seemed to accompany the thought, carrying a thick swirl of snowflakes along with it. The wind howled and shrieked as it passed through the rigging of the ship, creating a wild sort of ‘music’ that he half-imagined contained words which he couldn’t quite catch the meaning of. Yet, it felt almost as if a force of nature was crying out to get his attention, perhaps even pleading. With snow and ice whipping around, flung into his face, Trev backed away from the railing, blinking several times as he tried to wipe the cold from his face, alarmed by what he had been thinking moments ago.

That… no. That was not an option. His thoughts strayed to Ryn and the others. With his back pressing against the wall of the ship’s cabins, he shivered as he found his hand closing around the flute that Ryn had made for him, and let his thoughts drift from Ryn, to Nal, Cali, and Iole. Ryn was gone, but the others still remained, and they would be just as devastated by his death as they had been by Ryn’s… right? He hoped so, anyway.. hoped they still cared about him, anyway. His thoughts strayed to his family, next. He knew his grandmother and Toby would take it hard. And he knew that if Ryn’d had the choice, he wouldn’t have chosen death. He’d fought as hard as he could to stay alive, that had been evident from the condition of his body when they brought him back.

Trev sniffled, rubbing his eyes again. His fingers were stiff with cold, but he ignored that. As he brushed away the tears blurring his vision, his gaze landed on the scar on his palm. A faint smile flitted across his face. His brothers and sisters would definitely not want him to do anything stupid like that. No, he’d tough it out, and he’d do anything possible to make sure he did not turn out like his father. And who knows… maybe he would find a way to come home someday. He refused to give up hope, and clutched his flute close to his chest as he closed his eyes, grateful for that small bit of hope. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Trev raised his eyes upward. "Thank you," he whispered, unsure whether the Valar could hear him, but he believed one of them must be to thank for bringing him to his senses.
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:50 am, edited 3 times in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Trevadir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, in the sea near Helecra Isles
February 5th, 3018, TA
Trevadir's 16th birthday


As he looked upward, with the wind and snow sweeping around him, Trev suddenly noticed that he couldn’t see much around him. All he could see was snow, getting thicker and more blinding by the moment. He rubbed his eyes again, thinking at first there was a problem with his eyes. Then he realized it wasn't his eyes; they were in the middle of a blizzard! He’d heard tales about them, how easy it was to get lost even walking a few feet. It was alarming to think of getting lost in a snowstorm just going next door on foot… but to be on a ship in the middle of this? The realization of how much danger that could pose to them hit him swiftly. He looked upward toward the rigging, but he could see nothing but thick snow in the air around him. Even the railing where he had been standing just moments ago was invisible now.

Turning away from the railing, Trev tried to hurry toward the other end of the ship but found the deck slippery with ice. It had come upon them suddenly. Icy rain mingled with snow, lashing his face as he moved along the wall, before the wind caught against one of the sails and the ship abruptly tilted. With a surge of panic, Trev cried out as he felt his feet slipping out from under him. Sliding and stumbling, he fell against the railing and clung to it as the ship tipped sharply the other way. Trying to hold himself steady, Trev followed the railing along toward where Dev’s cabin was, fearing they might capsize at any moment. “BLIZZARD!” He yelled as loud as he could, hoping he was close to the cabin. It felt as if the wind snatched the word from him as soon as it left his mouth, and he had no idea whether he’d been heard.

Pushing off from the railing, Trev practically slid across the deck, hoping he hadn't overshot the cabins... it'd be bad to end up going right past them and off the side other side of the ship! Thankfully, he crashed into the wall with a thud that he couldn’t hear over the shrieking wind. With a tiny bit of relief, he groped along the wall until he found the framing for the door. He pounded on it urgently. “Captain! Snowstorm! Blizzard!”

Dev quickly emerged, glanced past Trev at the thick wall of wind and snow, then grabbed him and yanked him inside. A gust of wind blew a small heap of snow in with him, and Dev struggled to push the door closed afterward. Once the door was shut, the warmth in the cabin was welcome, but Trev wondered whether they shouldn’t be outside doing something. He stood there shivering for a moment, blinking to try and see again after all the bright whiteness outside, and the hundreds of tiny flecks of snow that had assaulted his face. After a moment, he could see a bit better, and saw that Dev was grabbing his coat and boots. “What’s Versand doing out there?” He demanded, inquiring about the ship's navigator, who was supposed to be at the helm. “Why’s he not raised an alarm or anything?”

“I d-don’t know,” Trev was shivering. “Th-there’s..blizzard.. I was..aft.. s-saw the s-snow..” he explained, arms wrapped around himself.

Dev frowned, then pushed him toward the small woodstove, indicating he should warm up. Ningaear was perched comfortably on some vines and ropes that Dev had strung up in his cabin for her. She stared at Trev accusingly, as if she were blaming him for letting some cold and snow into the warm cabin. “Why aren’t the sails furled? Why wasn’t the ship ready for this storm an hour ago?”

“I don’t know!” Trev felt as if he were being accused of neglecting his own duties or something, and he didn’t like it. “Maybe he d-didn’t know..it was c-coming?” He offered the only explanation he could think of. “It came up..so fast..” It had indeed come upon them so suddenly, that if Trev had been down below, he probably wouldn’t have known there was a storm, until the ship started tossing in the violent waves.

Dev frowned as he pulled on some gloves, then tossed another pair at Trev. “Take a few minutes and get yourself warmed up, then put those on and come back out to help. Don’t let your hands get frostbit. And make sure that fire’s put out before you leave.” He ordered. “We have to get the ship secured and I’ll need everyone working together… if we hit an iceberg...” Leaving that foreboding thought hanging in the air, he shook his head before pulling a winter hat down over his head and ears, and rushed out on the deck.

Trev was a bit surprised by the gloves, but eagerly accepted those, as well as the time to warm up. His fingers were stiff and painful, and felt almost frozen. The ship was bobbing up and down, rocking violently in the water, the upper parts getting yanked about this way and that. Times like this were quite terrifying to Trev, and he knew they would all be in a lot of trouble if they didn’t all work together to get the ship ready for this storm. He felt guilty staying inside warming up while others were out working to get the ship ready to weather the storm, but he knew it would be stupid to try and go out there now, with his hands so cold he could hardly feel them. He looked at the falcon, hoping she wasn't going to attack him without Dev there to tell her no. She had her feathers ruffled and was trying to stick close to the stove, but seemed uninterested in Trev, now.

“Please, Uinen…” He muttered through his shivering. “please, calm this storm..or Ossë, or Ulmo, or whoever.. just please, please help us survive this.. I just want to go home.” He pleaded, trying to keep his fear from overwhelming him. He stumbled as the ship was tossed the other direction suddenly, and narrowly avoided falling onto the hot stove. Realizing that he could feel his hands now, and they weren’t so cold, he realized it was time to put out the fire. He hated to do it, but knew it was important. If the ship tilted again and even one burning coal fell out of the stove's grate, especially without anyone in the room to put it out, then that would likely mean death for everyone.

Once he’d ensured that the coals were extinguished, ignoring Ningaear's glaring, he pulled on the gloves, grabbed another hat that Dev left behind, and wrapped a scarf around his neck before he went out to join the others.
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Trevadir & Devedir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, in the sea near Helecra Isles
February 5th, 3018, TA
Trevadir's 16th birthday


The moment he stepped outside, the wind practically took his breath away, and he cringed as he was hit by a sheet of snow driven by the fierce wind. He staggered forward, and fell against the railing. “Please, Uinen!” he yelled into the wind. “Make it calm again, I beg you!” Normally, he would be more reserved about saying anything about the Valar, let alone TO the Valar, with these people around to criticize. But in this instance, not only was he desperate, but he could hardly hear himself so he figured the crew wouldn’t be able to, either. Hoping the Lady of the Seas had heard his plea, and would take pity on him, Trev hastened along the icy deck, with one hand on the wall of the cabin, in search of the others.

He wasn’t entirely sure where his help would be needed, but he made his way midship, figuring the sails were a priority. He found several of the crew there, working to get the sails bound up tightly. Dev was right there with them, . “Someone get him down!” The captain was shouting. He caught Trev’s arm and steadied him as Trev nearly slid into him.

Trev looked up, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, saw that someone was up in the rigging, hanging precariously from the ropes. He wasn’t sure who it was, and could barely make out the dark shape of the man’s clothes against the white snow filling his vision, but it was just enough of a glimpse between gusts of wind.

“He’s going to fall!” One of the crew yelled. He was among those wrestling with the ropes trying to get the sails pulled in, and could do nothing to help his crewmate.

Without waiting another moment, Trev ran for the mast and started to climb. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find that the ropes and mast and everything were slippery with ice that had frozen on them, but he just kept trying to climb.

“Trev, get down!” He heard his father yell at him, but it seemed more important to try and save the guy. But then the ship tilted sharply to port, jerking so hard that Trev nearly lost his grip. Clinging to the rigging with his hands, Trev felt his feet swing out so he was hovering over the water. His stomach flipped a few times, eyes widening with horror, remembering how cold his hands were already. The blizzard made it impossible to see much, but he imagined the waves below, ready to swallow him up if he lost his grip.

A scream from above made him look up, though he could only barely make out the figure of the man who had gotten tangled up in the rigging, suspended over the waves just like Trev. He didn’t have much to hang onto, Trev realized. With a sick feeling in his stomach, Trev could do nothing but watch as the man fell right past him. Clutching the ropes tight, Trev closed his eyes, praying that he might wake up and find that all of this was just a nightmare.

The splash was faint but audible enough to tell him that the man had fallen into the sea. He heard shouting below and opened his eyes reluctantly. Someone was throwing a rope out, yelling for the man to grab on. Trev began climbing down carefully, heart pounding in his chest. He definitely didn’t want to be the next to fall in. But then, as another swell hit the ship, they rose up, and then the ship tilted again as a vicious gust of wind hit the partially furled sails.

He had hardly noticed that the snow had thinned a bit by now, enough that Trev could see more of what was going on below. He watched as if in slow motion as events unfolded before his eyes. Devedir was the one by the rail, trying to help the man who’d gone overboard, a rope in his hands. As the ship tilted, some things which weren’t properly secured down began sliding across the deck, toward the railing where Dev was standing.

“DAD!” Trev heard himself scream over the whistling wind, trying to warn his father of the danger. But there was no time for Dev to look. Some rain barrels (frozen, most likely) and some other unsecured items crashed into him and the railing, broke through, and all tumbled over.

All Trev could think of was that his father was going to die. He dropped the last few feet from the rigging, hit the ice-covered deck, and started sliding toward where Dev had disappeared. If he’d done this on the back porch of Grandma's house back home, with nothing but the back yard to fall into after going over the edge, it would’ve been tremendous fun. At the moment, with the freezing waters of the Forochel awaiting him on the other side, he felt only terror as the edge of the deck rushed closer and closer, but at the last moment he lunged himself forward onto his knees and then stomach, catching onto a sturdier part of the railing just beside where it was broken. To his great relief, he saw that Dev had managed to hastily grab onto the weakened railing as he went over, but it was hanging precariously from the ship and would come loose at any moment.

Trev reached down, catching hold of his father’s wrist. “I got you!” He declared, just as the captain was jerked downward suddenly, with a cry of pain. Trev nearly lost his grip on him, but barely managed to keep from losing him. He found it harder to hold on, however, and felt himself dragged closer to the gap in the railing as he struggled to keep his grip on his father’s hand. But he refused to let go. This was his father. He’d waited ten years - his whole childhood - to be reunited with him. While he didn’t like what Dev did, and often felt hurt by what he said and did to Trev… it was still his father. His mother had once loved this man, and he knew she wouldn’t have loved him if he didn’t have some good in him. That good had to still be there. Right? With renewed determination, he gripped tighter, his fingers growing numb with cold as they dug into Dev’s wrist, but he refused to let go. Icy waves swept up and swallowed his father from sight for a moment, including Trev's arm up to the elbow, but then the ship rose above the swell and he saw him again, coughing and shivering.

“Th-the anchor..” Dev yelled over the noise of the storm. “…caught… leg!” Though the wind snatched some of the words beyond hearing, Trev was able to figure out what he was trying to say. His eyes widened. That explained the sudden downward jerk, as well as the weight trying to pull them both in! Trev looked over his shoulder, desperately hoping there might be someone else around. “Help!” He yelled, his voice already feeling raw from all the shouting. “Someone! Hey, someone! HELP!”

⭐
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Trevadir & Devedir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, in the sea near Helecra Isles
February 5th, 3018, TA
Trevadir's 16th birthday


“I got you,” A crewmate called Scar replied as he grabbed hold of Trev’s waist. He began to pull. Trev felt his grip on Dev becoming even more strained. “NO! No Scar, stop!” He cried, panicked.

“What? What’s wrong?” Scar stopped pulling immediately.

“He’s being d-dragged down..” Trev gasped, struggling to keep a grip on the captain’s wrist. “T-Too h-heavy.. I can’t... I’m..ab-bout to lose him!” The desperate pleading in Trev’s voice spurred Scar to lunge past him, grabbing for Dev’s arm below where Trev had his grip. “I got him,” He assured Trev. “I’ve got him, it’s alright.. ugh!” He grunted as he tried to pull his captain up, and found the same difficulty that Trev had encountered.

“The anchor’s c-caught on his l-leg,” Trev explained, tentatively letting go, feeling as if his hands were so cold they might break off the ends of his arms. Relieved to find that Scar did indeed have a good grip on him, he noticed the grimace of pain on Dev’s face. The anchor was heavy, and it was pulling on him. Trev hardly noticed how cold he was, or that his hands hurt from the cold. “I’m g-gonna cut him loose,” He declared. There was no other way Trev could think of to save him.

“You’re going to what?” Scar turned to look at him as if he was nuts.

“Don’t let g-go of him! No matter what!” He ordered, hoping the man wouldn’t just scoff at him for making such an order. But this was the captain they were trying to save… Hoping he wouldn’t let go, Trev started to climb over the edge of the ship where the railing was broken.

“Trev, w-what are you d-doing?” Dev yelled. “Get back up there, th-that’s an o-order!”

Trev ignored him as well, gasping as an icy wave washed over them both. He clung to the slippery edge of the deck for a moment, his heart racing wildly in panic at the thought of slipping off. Trying not to move too quickly, nor yet too slowly, he carefully placed his foot on Dev’s shoulder, and proceeded to climb down his back, shivering as the frigid water soaked through his clothes in seconds. It occurred to him, ironically, that this was possibly the closest he’d come to hugging his father in… about ten years.

“What are y-you, st-st-tupid?” Dev demanded. Trev could feel him shaking hard from the cold, just like himself. “You’ll just g-get us both k-killed! Get off me!”

“Y-yeah, I’m… s-stupi-id,” Trev retorted, scowling despite his own shivering. “I’ve n-n-never been that g-great at f-following orders, D-Dad.” He added with a faint smile at his own ridiculous attempt at humor, at a time like this. He climbed lower, gasping sharply as the wintry waves swept over them both. He clung tightly to Dev’s back. Neither of them could stay in this for very long or they’d go numb… and when that happened, neither of them would be able to hang on. Trev remembered hearing plenty of warnings about frost bite and hypothermia, and knew he had to act quickly, else his father might lose more than what Nal’s had lost.

Wrapping his legs around Dev’s, he locked his ankles together around him, just below the hips, and held on as tight as he could. Then he grabbed the knife from Dev’s waist, and let go of him with his arms, his torso falling backward, to end up upside down with his back resting against the back of Dev’s calves. He took a deep breath as he saw another swell coming, and hastily grabbed Dev’s entangled leg with his free hand, feeling for the rope that had caught around his ankle.

The wave hit, nearly knocking the breath out of him, but he scrunched his eyes up tight and tried very hard not to let any water get up his nostrils. That was impossible though, and his lungs instinctively tried to cough to get rid of it. The impact of the freezing water made him want to instinctively gasp and splutter. If he wasn’t quick, he would definitely drown. But he didn’t give up.

A memory flashed in his mind, brought on by the terrifying, close-to-drowning situation.

Trev was five years old. He and Dev had gone fishing, taking a little rowboat out on the river. “Sit down,” Dev instructed. “You’re rocking the boat.”

Trevadir was too excited to sit down. It was all so pretty! The water glistened with the sunlight reflecting on it. His father’s fishing line lay on the gently rippling surface, while Dev sat leisurely in his side of the boat. Dragonflies buzzed around, darting this way and that across the water’s surface, while little Trevadir reached out to try and catch one.
“Trevadir, sit down!”

It was too late. He’d reached out, he lost his balance, crying out as he tumbled into the water. Suddenly, the peaceful, gently flowing water seemed terrifying. He shrieked in panic as nothing supported him. Arms and legs flailed uselessly, splashing and waving wildly in both air and water. He felt the water suck him down, swallowing him. With renewed panic, he thrashed his arms harder, and somehow got his head back up, gasping in a spluttering breath. “Daddy, help!” He screamed.

Again, his little body sank below the surface. And again, determinedly, he fought his way back up, but it was a losing battle. The boat was drifting further and further away as he drifted in the current. “Daddy!” He wailed, coughing as a mouthful of water invaded his mouth. He sank below again, before somehow managing to get back to the air.

“Kick your feet.” Dev spoke calmly from the boat, calling just loud enough for Trevadir to hear him. “Trevadir, stop panicking and listen to me.”

Coughing, Trevadir couldn’t help panicking. Kick his feet? He continued to flail his arms around, but tried to kick like his dad said. But it didn’t seem to be doing anything.

“Kick.. yes, faster. Like you’re paddling.” He demonstrated somewhat, using his hands. “Like that, with your feet.” He watched for a moment. “When you get up to the surface, take a breath, and hold it for as long as you can.”

Trevadir tried to copy what his dad had said to do, and found that it did make him stay up a bit more. He managed to take a deep breath and held it.

“Good.” Dev leaned back again. “The air in your lungs will help you float. Now, do the same thing with your hands, all at the same time.”

It was a bit tricky to get the coordination right, but once Trevadir had figured out how to kick his feet and paddle his hands at the same time, he found that he not only didn’t sink under the water anymore, but he was traveling forward! He let out the breath and sucked in a fresh one.

“Good. Keep doing that, but only, come toward me.” Dev’s voice was so calm, he might have almost sounded bored. He still had his fishing pole in hand, having only set it down for a moment to show Trev how to kick his feet.

Whatever the case, it had a calming effect on Trevadir, and he soon found he could reach out and grab onto the boat, except his arms weren’t long enough to reach that high. He was very tired though, despite it having only been a short distance he'd swam. But he'd swam! “I did it!” The boy exclaimed joyfully. “Daddy, I did it!”

At that point, Devedir reached down and grabbed him by the back of the shirt, hauling him over the side. After depositing the small child into the bottom of the boat, on the side furthest from himself, he settled back in his spot. “Yes, you did. Now, maybe you’ll listen to me next time I tell you something.”



That day, a lesson had indeed been learned. But it was not so much about obedience, as about swimming. He always remembered that as the day his dad taught him how to swim. He had always been highly impressed with the way his father never panicked once throughout the entire ordeal.

Today, Trevadir was again ignoring his father’s orders. Some things never change, apparently. He raised up briefly to gasp in a quick breath, coughing and spluttering, drew in what breath he could get, then dropped his upper body down again. The rope was looped around Dev’s right leg, too tangled to try and free him. Trev couldn’t see anything for all the water surrounding him, the waves crashing over him repeatedly, the snow swirling around whenever he emerged from the water. He spent several long moments in the freezing water, trying to hold his breath, struggling not to inhale the water. All the while, his hands were moving, feeling for the rope, trying to find where Dev’s foot ended, and the rope stretched on downward. When he found it, he began sawing as fast as he could with the knife, desperate to accomplish his task before he lost all feeling in his limbs. 'Ulmo, help me...'

He could practically feel his face turning blue from the cold. His fingers burned as if his blood was turning to ice, and he could tell they were rapidly going numb. He worked faster, lungs burning for want of air. Every time he found a chance to draw breath, he found himself coughing involuntarily as wave after wave buried his head under the water, robbing him of any chances for breath. The whole time, he couldn’t hear anything but the crashing waves, and the howling wind. His whole body was beginning to feel numb, but especially his hands. 'Just keep working. Keep sawing at that rope. Don’t give up...' he told himself, over and over.. his vision was going blurry, fighting against the urge to cough and take a breath, knowing he’d get nothing but water sucked into his lungs. Just a few more moments…
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Devedir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, in the sea near Helecra Isles
February 5th, 3018, TA
Trevadir's 16th birthday


Hanging from the side of his ship, Dev could do nothing but wait, grimacing as the heavy anchor pulled on his leg, while the crewman named Scarborough kept a tight grip on his arm. It was not pleasant, being stretched out like that. And that other line which he’d been holding when he went over the side, that was wrapped around his wrist, pulling him in still another direction.

When another crewman showed up, crouching beside Scar to see if he could help in some way, Dev realized an opportunity to at least free up his other hand, which he could hardly feel anymore. “Grisly,” Dev gasped, teeth chattering from the icy water as he addressed the man using his preferred nickname. “Get this,” With some difficulty, he brought up his other hand, hoping the other man would be able to get it unwound from his wrist. “Wally.. he managed to g-grab on before I fell in… if he’s s-still alive… haul him in, w-will you?” He had no idea if the other man might have drowned or frozen by now, but at least he’d be rid of that extra weight tugging him sideways.

“Aye, captain,” The burly man hastily unwound the rope from the captain’s arm, with some admiration in his expression as he began rapidly hauling in the frozen line. Soon, he had dragged the other sailor on board, though it wasn’t clear whether Wally was alive or not. He yelled for someone to come and get the man, and turned his attention back toward Dev as some of the other crew carried Wally down below, hoping it wasn’t too late to save him.

“T-the ship?” Dev’s voice was getting strained. He was shivering quite hard, but he noticed the wind was growing less fierce. But it was important, and he wanted to know whether they were still at risk of capsizing any moment.

“Secured, captain. Give me your other hand,” Grisly reached down, and grabbed hold of his other hand, assisting Scar in his efforts.

Dev hated being so helpless, and could only hope that Trev would be successful, and that neither Scar nor Grisly wouldn’t lose their grip. His legs were numb, and he couldn’t even feel whether the boy was still there. He looked down frequently just to check, but could hardly see anything through the frothy waves. Suddenly, the weight dragging him down was suddenly gone. “Pull us up! Now!” Dev ordered the second he felt this change in the situation.

Both men immediately heaved, dragging them both upward. As soon as Trev came within reach, Grisly grabbed him by the ankle , and dragged the unconscious boy onto the deck.
“G-get the water o-out of him,” Dev ordered weakly, collapsing onto the deck, shivering uncontrollably. He couldn’t even tell if Trev was alive, but figured he must be, since he’d managed to cut the line. Still, he looked more than half frozen, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Grisly threw a punch to Trev’s abdomen, forcing whatever was in his lungs to spew out. Soon Trev was gasping and spluttering, struggling to gain his breath back. He was shivering almost as hard as Dev, but collapsed soon after, and didn't open his eyes.

Dev made an attempt to stand, but found that his legs were too numb. “G-galley, n-now.” He managed to get the order out through chattering teeth. “Get us… w-warmed, quick.”
Grisly nodded, getting Trev slung over his shoulder before hurrying through the wind and snow to get down below to the ship’s galley, where the cook would have the stove still burning. Scarborough wasted no time in assisting the freezing captain in a similar fashion, hurrying to get them both to the galley where they could get warm.



Trevadir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, Narth Cam
Mid-February, 3018, TA

Trev spent the next several days mostly unconscious, shivering uncontrollably, coughing, sniffling and sneezing, feeling feverish and miserable. It was a few days later before he gained some dim realization that he was in a bed. He felt awful. Deciding it was less miserable to stay asleep, he let himself drift once again. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he awakened again. A coughing fit came upon him, and stole any hope of simply rolling over and going back to sleep. He groaned, resting his head onto the pillows once the fit had subsided, but he felt too miserable to try going to sleep. He felt chilled to the bone, and tried to pull the covers up closer around himself.

‘Am I home?’ He wondered, dimly. The surroundings didn’t look familiar at all, and it was definitely nothing like he would see in Minas Tirith. He closed his eyes, hoping he’d open them later to find Grandma coming in to check on him, maybe hushing Toby. He was sick, he could tell that much, and didn’t remember ever feeling this sick before. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he half-remembered icy water, a lot of fear, and snow. After what felt like a long while, he finally dozed off again, letting his dreams take over.


“Kick your feet.” Dev spoke calmly from the boat, calling just loud enough for Trevadir to hear him. “Trevadir, stop panicking and listen to me.”

Coughing, Trevadir couldn’t help panicking. The water was filling his lungs, and he was freezing. He couldn’t feel his hands or feet anymore. He was trying to accomplish something, and it was extremely important and desperate, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He felt like his brain was in a fog. He sunk below the freezing waves, fought his way back up, and looked across at Devedir, sitting so calmly in his boat on the placid, sunny river, fishing line still held lazily in his hand.

“Why aren’t you doing anything!?” Trevadir cried, but his voice was that of a small child. “Don’t you care? I’m drowning, Dad!”

“Don’t call me that.” Dev scowled. “Just kick your feet. You’re fine.”

“But what if I’m not fine? What if I can’t do this? I need help, please! Please, help me!” He felt like he might cry. The dark water swelled up around him, lapping around his chin, threatening to swallow him altogether.

“Grow up already, will you?” Dev retorted, rolling his eyes. “I told you, just do as I said, and you’ll be just fine. There’s no need to cry about it. No one’s going to come for you. No one cares about you anymore.”

“Please, someone help me, I can’t do this on my own!” Trev cried out in panic and despair. He was sinking, and water filled his lungs as he tried to fight his way back, but felt as if a great weight were dragging him further and further down into the depths. And then he realized it wasn’t really water. It was a sort of darkness that felt like it was choking him, like water. He felt cold. So cold, and lonely… where were his friends, his loved ones, when he needed them?



With a little cry, Trev jolted out of his restless sleep, and found that someone was at his side, dabbing his face with a damp cloth. He looked at her with wide eyes, confused about that strange mixture of dream and memory-turned-nightmare. He was shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it was from cold. Despite how he felt, himself, he could tell it was actually fairly warm in this place, wherever he was.

Looking at the woman with the cloth, Trev felt confused. She was a total stranger. She was shushing in a sort of comforting way, like his grandma might do when he’d wakened from a nightmare. He smiled faintly in gratitude, laying back on the pillows. “W-where.. am I?” he tried to ask, but started coughing, and found that his throat hurt, too. Soon, he came to realize she did not understand his language, so he gave up trying to ask.
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 582 
Posts: 2650
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Trevadir & Devedir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, Narth Cam
Mid-February, 3018, TA

It took a couple more days before Trev felt well enough to get up out of the bed, and realized that it wasn’t so much a bed, as he was used to from home, but more like a cot heaped with furs and blankets. And the structure seemed to be crudely built of logs and bark. It had even occurred to him that this might be some sort of afterlife, but he had no idea. Wrapping the blanket around himself, Trev decided it was time to explore his surroundings better. His sore throat, coughing and sniffling lingered, as well as a little chill, but he was curious enough to try and find out about where he was.

The doorway of the small room was covered by a ‘curtain’ of furs, so it was easy enough to pass through it. As he pulled that aside, Trev looked out and found that he was in a long structure, with several people there, going about their daily business. Some folks were cooking over firepits positioned at various points down the hallway, on the ground. Looking up, he saw that the roof had holes in it to allow the smoke to pass through. There were strings of dried herbs and crops up in the rafters, as well.

Ladders leaned against the walls, leading to storage compartments in the 'loft' areas, and it looked like a variety of things were stored there, from food to extra pelts and furs, and possibly clothing and other personal belongings of the people who lived here. Other people were coming and going on various day-to-day errands. Animal skins hung across other openings along the sides of the hall, indicating other small spaces partitioned off from the rest of the place like the one he had come out of. At the far end of the hallway, there was a door leading to the outside, and he thought he glimpsed snow outside as someone passed through it.

Not far away, seated on the floor by one of the firepits, his father was sat cross-legged, a mug of some hot drink held in his hands. He had a blanket spread over his lap as he stared at the flames licking at the logs. It looked strangely like some picturesque scene he used to always imagine growing up, that his father would be sitting at home waiting for him by the fireplace when he got home from school in the fall and winter. Only it wasn’t home, and it wasn't quite a fireplace.

“Ah, you've rejoined us, at last.” Dev mentioned, as he looked up from his mug and spotted Trev standing in the doorway. “Come sit by the fire.” He motioned with one hand to invite Trev to sit across from him.

“Where are we?” Trev sniffled from the lingering stuffy nose bothering him, and glanced around as he came closer to the fire.

“Some village along the coast. The natives here call it Narth Cam, if I understand them properly.” Dev replied. “We’ve been staying in this longhouse of theirs for just over a week now, and it looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while longer. Maybe all winter, since the Wing' is trapped in the ice now.” He sighed, annoyed by this.

“Longhouse… hm.” Trev repeated, glancing up and down the place. It seemed aptly named, anyway. “How’d we get here?” Trev wondered, glancing around at some of the people moving about the place.

“We brought you here, obviously. You and Wally were quite sick...”

“Wally..” Trev remembered the man who had fallen into the sea from the rigging. “He survived then?” he was glad to hear that, recalling that the man had never really wanted to be part of the pirate crew. “Is he alright?”

“Well, he’s been better.” Dev shrugged. “But he’ll live. Just like me. And you. How’re your hands, by the way?”

Trev moved to sit across from his father, wrapping the blanket taken from the bed tighter around his shoulders, then looked at his hands. He flexed them, then closed them into loose fists, slowly. In truth, he remembered having been quite worried about his hands, and getting frostbitten. If he lost any fingers, he wouldn’t be able to play the flute anymore. “They feel alright.” he answered with relief. “That means they’ll be fine, right?” He asked, looking up anxiously.

“I imagine so. What about your toes? Anything feel..funny? Like, numb or..”

“No, nothing like that.” Trev knew his voice was scratchy, and his nose was stuffed up, but he wasn’t terribly worried about that.

“Good.” Dev nodded slowly and took a sip of his drink. "You'll be needed to help with things on the ship, when we're ready to leave here."

Trev hesitated, feeling a little lost about what had happened since he last remembered. “Last I remember,” he began with a frown, “we were both hanging over the side of the ship, into freezing water… I thought I was drowning...”

“Yes.. and you disobeyed orders. Twice, if I recall…” Dev frowned at him. “Next time-”

“I saved your life!” Trev protested, astonished he could possibly be angry about that, now. A sneeze erupted from him, suddenly, but he managed to turn away to one side, and aimed toward the ground. He sniffled, annoyed by the stuffy nose still troubling him.

Dev looked at him thoughtfully. “Yes. You did...” He seemed somewhat grudging to have to admit it. “But don’t start thinking I owe you anything for that.” He warned. “I don’t owe anyone anything. Got that?”

Trev sat back, a little stunned. Was this actually happening? His father was scolding him about disobeying an order.. when it had saved his life? He frowned. “I didn’t expect you to owe me anything.” He said quietly. “I didn’t do it for that reason...”

“Good.” Dev looked at him thoughtfully, curious. Perhaps suspicious. “Why did you, then?” he wondered.

Trevadir stared at him in further astonishment. “You seriously don’t know?”

“If I did, would I have asked?” Dev retorted, rolling his eyes as if Trev were stupid.

Trev couldn’t help staring in amazement at his father, wondering how he could not know this. How did he even begin to explain? He couldn’t even find the words to properly say what he had felt in that moment. At last, he managed the simplest reply he could think of. “If you don’t know.. I don’t think I can explain it.” He shrugged and looked down with a sigh, feeling a little ache in his heart. It seemed that Dev truly did not understand why his son would risk his life to save him. Trev not only didn’t feel like trying to explain, but he doubted the man would understand even if he did.

Dev scoffed at the vague answer. “In other words, you don’t know. Just trying to be a hero, I suppose? Listen… much as I enjoy the fact that I’m still alive, it was extremely risky and stupid, Trev.”

“Fine. Next time, I’ll just leave you to die, then.” Trev stood up with a scowl and walked briskly back toward the little room he had come from. Too bad there wasn’t a door to slam, but he stomped the whole way, and sent a scowl over his shoulder toward his dad before letting the hides drop back in place to separate him from the main part of the building.

Climbing into the cot again, he curled up and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just wake up back home with grandma. It sometimes felt like he was trapped in some never-ending nightmare. After all the hopeful dreams he had entertained throughout his childhood about what life would be like with his father, it was as if the truth was the worst possible thing it could have been. How did this happen? When did his father change into this cold, calloused man? Or had he changed at all? Had Dev ever cared about Trev at all? Thinking back about that memory, and the related nightmare he’d had, Trev began to wonder whether Dev would have even cared if he’d drowned that day when he was five. Trying not to let his thoughts go there, he pulled the covers up over his head and tried to fall asleep, sniffling quietly although it might not have been completely from his stuffy nose.
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Trevadir & Devedir Thôrmaetha
Bay of Forochel, Narth Cam
May 5th, 3018, TA

"What? No! No way!" Trev's protest was filled with outrage at the pirate's plan. He stared at his father in astonishment. "How could you ask me to do that? After how kind these people were to us all this time?" He demanded. "No way, you can't do this. I won't help you!"

"Trevadir," Dev took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "We've been stuck here for months. We need the profit, that's all it is. It's nothing personal against these people. It's just.. how it is." He sighed. "Now, will you do as I ask, or what?"

Trev glared sullenly at him and folded his arms. "How could you even think about doing this? After all they've done to help us!"

"They made it quite easy, you know." Dev snorted in amusement. "Letting us stay all this time, showing us how to get around in this climate. Even helping us clear the ice from around the ship, once it got warmer." He grinned. "Look, all I'm asking you to do is invite them to come aboard for a meal. To express our 'gratitude'," He smirked slightly. "They like you the most. You've come to understand their language a bit. You can make this go much easier on everyone."

Trev continued his sullen stare, trying to fathom how his own father could be so... cold toward others. So devious and without conscious. So... evil.

"If you do this, I'll.." Dev paused, thinking a moment. "I'll arrange for you to spend some time with your friends. Unalmis and all the others." He offered, remembering the name of Trev's closest friend, from all the times he'd had to babysit. Plus all the times Trev talked about him and the others. "How would you like that?"

Trev looked up, eyes widening slightly with excitement at this unexpected offer. His friends! And today was Nal's birthday, too. Trev was missing his best friend more than ever, right now. He wanted more than anything to see him again, to tell him happy birthday, tell him all about... everything interesting that he'd seen in his travels. Tell him how much he wanted to come home, and maybe, Nal could take him someplace safe and hide him from the guards until they could clear Trev's name. And then...

But no. Trev stopped himself from getting too carried away with that thought. He couldn't do what his father was asking him to do. If he did that, he would be taking the first step down a road to becoming someone none of his friends or family would want to know. He'd be turning into Dev. Besides. It occurred to him that he had no idea what Dev meant by 'arranging' to get to see his friends.. he was beginning to notice that there were times that Dev's words held hidden meanings, and it could be tricky to filter through them and know whether he truly meant what he was saying.

"I can do it without you, of course," Dev sighed. "I just.. hoped." he shrugged. "I thought, you know.. that we were getting along so well. I hoped maybe my own son would be willing to help his father in such a small thing as this."

Trev frowned and turned away, arms folded. He had to think. Dev was going to keep pestering him until he either got his way, or locked Trev up to prevent him from hindering his plans. He wanted to stop Dev's plan from being successful, but how? He took a slow breath, trying to stall for a bit more time. "Let me think about it. Please?" He asked finally, turning back to his father.

Dev looked at him for a moment, and slowly nodded. "Alright." He smiled and patted Trev's shoulder. "Think about it. Not too long, of course. We need to act quickly. But, I hope you'll make the right decision, son." He smiled. "I'll go see how the meal preparations are going." He decided, and went outside.

Trev sighed, shaking his head. What could he do? He stared at the fire burning in the middle of the longhouse, thinking of all these people who had helped him so much. They'd helped him get well after being miserably sick. They'd given shelter to the entire crew, taken them all into their longhouse during the winter and showed them how they survived the harsh, freezing temperatures. Trev knew the only reason some of the crew had behaved themselves was because Dev had given orders to play nice to these people. Dev had even been reasonably nice to Trev, during the past few months, and it made him uncomfortable to think of acting against his father. Especially when it seemed they were finally beginning to get along better. But Trev had also come to like their hosts, too. He could not.. no, would not, stand by and let them all be taken captive, to be sold in Umbar and forced into miserable lives, torn away from their homes and families... like he had been, he realized with a jolt. In a way, anyway.

Trev thought long and hard, trying to come up with a plan, but he couldn't think of anything that would result in favorable results for all parties involved.

"Well?" Dev asked as he returned, a short while later. "What'd you decide?"

Trev was turning his flute over in his hands, studying the workmanship of his late friend. His attention was drawn, mostly, to the overlapping initials etched on one end. He had been trying to think of what each of his friends would advise. It was tricky, for they each were likely to suggest something different. And nothing useable had come to mind yet. He was out of time, and growing anxious about what he would do. And that was when something popped into his mind at last. A memory of a time the friends had been victorious against their shared enemy, Rip. It had been Ryn's idea, of course. Using the bully's own deeds to work against him. He knew immediately how he would get the better of Dev.

Doing his best job of acting, Trev let out a sigh. "Well. I don't like it," he began, shrugging. "But, I guess you're going to do it anyway, whether I help or not." He didn't want to cave in too easy, after all. "And, I.. I don't want them to get hurt. So, yeah." He dropped his head down as if in shame. "I'll talk to them."

Dev smiled and patted his shoulder. "You've made the right choice, son." He told him.

He sounded pleased with Trev, for possibly the first time Trev could remember. It broke his heart a bit, realizing that it was only because he believed Trev was going to do some cruel, despicable thing to deceive people who had been kind to them.

"Their tribe leader person is just outside." Dev informed him. "Come on. You better come and speak to him now." He guided Trev outside. "It's like you said. It's easier on everyone this way." He assured his son.

Trev glanced at his father and nodded, careful to keep his expression from showing his disgust at this whole situation. Outside, they stopped before the tribe's leader. Trev was nowhere near fluent in the language of these people who dwelt in this frigid land, but he'd picked up enough to make himself understood, and understand them in return. He greeted the leader of the tribe politely, and then proceeded to deliver his message, sticking solely to the tribe's language, which Dev did not understand. Otherwise, he would not have needed Trev to do this.

"My father and I.. thank you," he said, wishing he had the words to add in a bit more formal words. He had to keep it very simple and basic, though. "For everything." He smiled at the elderly man. He gestured to Dev as he continued. "He wants ask you, your people, come on ship, eat, as thanks. But I," he added swiftly, motioning to himself. "want warn you. They.. very bad men." He hesitated, trying to find the right words to explain. "Your people, in danger. They betray you, make you slaves. Stay away.. ship."

Throughout this, he kept his voice level and calm, hoping to avoid letting Dev catch on to what he was saying. As the tribe leader's expression grew more and more serious, Trev began to worry. Then he turned to some of his people who were busy going about daily activities nearby, and began speaking swiftly to them. Trev watched, nervous, fearful that they hadn't understood him. Had he been able to convey the message properly? His speech in this language was quite broken, and he struggled to understand when they spoke quickly...
Last edited by Rillewen on Wed Mar 13, 2024 9:49 am, edited 2 times in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
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Trevadir(age 16) & Devedir Thôrmaetha with other crew members
Bay of Forochel, on the sea
May 5th, 3018, TA

"What did you say to him?" Dev demanded, whirling on Trev. They had only barely made it to the ship before a host of tribes people descended on them angrily. A couple of the crew hadn't made it to the ship, and there had been a fierce battle between the two groups. In the end, the pirates had been outnumbered, and forced to flee. It was as if they'd smacked a hornet's nest with a broom until the whole hive came out to attack. The formerly peaceful tribe people had become hostile nearly instantly, attacking the pirates with whatever weapons they had. When they were finally out of range of arrows, and there was no more risk of being pursued by the canoes, the pirates began to relax and assess their losses.

Trev tensed as his father rounded on him, clearly angry. He hesitated, trying to think of how to reply to him. He was definitely in trouble. What should he say? Trev glanced at the others standing nearby, and back to Dev, debating whether to tell them some lie that wouldn't make them angry at him. After a brief pause, he decided he might as well own up to that he'd done. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his chin, trying to feel bold. "The truth." He answered defiantly.

Dev narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. "You told them.. what exactly?" His expression darkened as he waited.

Trev swallowed nervously. "I.. told him that.. you were inviting them all to a special dinner. To thank them for all their kindness. And.. that it was a trick." He added tentatively. "I told him you were going to lure them into a trap and betray them. Make them into slaves." He refrained from fidgeting as Dev stared at him, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" Dev continued to stare at his son while he addressed the boatswain standing nearby.

"Aye, that's what he said." Samroth replied, glaring at Trev. "Sounds like he's itching for punishment," He growled, and moved toward Trev threateningly.

Backing away, Trevadir tried not to show his fear of the large man, despite how afraid he actually felt. He knew Samroth didn't care for him at all, and that he was often looking for reasons to take out his frustration on Trevadir.

"Put him in the brig," Dev ordered. "See that he learns his lesson." He gave Samroth a look with a small nod.

Trying to hide a little grin as the captain gave this subtle sign of permission, Samroth grabbed for the teenager eagerly.

Trevadir ducked and tried to run, but found his path blocked by other crew members. All quite angry looking and moving closer to him. A couple of their number had been killed during the fight, and it was little surprise that some of them found that highly offensive. Finding himself trapped, Trev realized he'd been stupid to think he could run, anyway. There were only so many places he could run on the ship, after all. Finding himself caught by a couple of the men, Trevadir struggled to get free, but without success. They were none too gentle as they dragged him down to the brig, but Trev had a bad feeling there would be more to his punishment than just sitting in the cell for a long period.

He stumbled as they shoved him so that he fell against the bars, wincing a little as he hit his shoulder against one of them. Before he could push away from it, Samroth grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around so that he faced him, drawing back a fist for a punch. Trevadir swiftly twisted and ducked, maneuvering himself to break free from Samroth before he could get hit. But as he darted past the boatswain, he found several others closing in. Before he knew it, two men were holding him, one gripping each of his arms, and held him in place between them as Samroth threw a punch at his stomach.


By the time they dumped him in the floor of the ship's holding cell, Trev was sure he had bruises all over. He curled up with his arms wrapped around his middle, trying his best not to whimper in pain as the pirates left him there. At least until they were all gone.

After everything had been quiet down there for some time, he finally gave in. Tears flowed involuntarily, and after it was safe to do without being overheard, he finally let himself cry quietly. Between the pain, misery, and despair, he just couldn't hold back anymore. A long time passed before he grew quiet again, wiping his eyes, sniffling as many thoughts raced through his mind. Maybe he should have lied to Dev about what he'd done. Or, maybe he shouldn't have crossed Dev in the first place. Dev was right, he should have known he'd be making enemies of his crewmates. He should have expected retaliation. Why did he do that? He shifted slightly, then winced and held still. What might have happened if he'd done things differently?

Then, his thoughts began to settle a bit more, and he thought about his family and friends back home. His grandma had always taught him to be truthful. He thought of what his friends would think about all this. He first thought about how upset they would be if they could see him now, beaten and hurting, locked up in this cell below deck. He frowned, sniffling as he closed his eyes, deciding he didn't want them to ever have to see him like that. Instead, he tried to imagine himself back home, and wondered what they would think of the reason why he was enduring this. Because he had stood up for what he believed in. Because he told the truth, when he would have been better off lying. Maybe it was stupid of him. But would they think that? Or would they be proud of him? His thoughts drifted to something that had happened years ago, when he was maybe about ten...


Trevadir couldn't get home fast enough. He'd had the misfortune to get into it with Rip today at recess, being caught by himself because his stupid little brother was being a pest. While Ryn, Nal, and the girls had gone on to the playground, Trev had stopped to help Toby tie his shoes, and next thing he knew, he was fighting with Rip because he made a really cruel comment about the brothers' dad abandoning them. The jerk had even made Toby cry, and Trev's temper had snapped.

The teacher was not at all impressed with such a show of violence on Trevadir's part, and had held him after school for discipline, while that stupid goodie two-shoes got to go straight home without any scolding or anything! All because he lied and told the teacher that Trev had just attacked him for no reason whatsoever. He was furious. It wasn't fair. The moment he was released, after being forced to write "I will not attack my classmates" over and over on the blackboard, Trev ran down to the first level, and as soon as he got into the backyard he shared with Nal, he climbed up into the tree, without even pausing to catch his breath. Ryn had had to go home to help his father in the forge, but at least Nal was there to play. Or, he would be soon, once Trev gave the signal and he could climb out of his window...


* * *

"We'll show him," Trev raged, moments later after the two friends were together inside the treehouse, and Trev had finished his annoyed explanation about what exactly had happened. He folded his arms, scowling. "We've gotta do something back at him. What if.." He hesitated, trying to think of something good. "I know! We'll make up stuff about him. Tell lots of lies about him, and get him in lots of trouble, see how he likes that." He decided smugly, thinking it seemed an excellent plan. So what if his grandmother always said not to tell lies? It wasn't fair that Trev got in trouble when he was telling the truth, but Rip didn't get in trouble when all he did was lie!

As his plan began to form in his mind, he smiled with smug satisfaction. Excited by this idea, Trevadir and began thinking about all sorts of awful lies he could come up with to get Rip in trouble. "We could say he was uhh, spying on girls in the outhouse, or.. we could put a pin in the teacher's chair and say Rip did it! We could do.. lots of stuff like that and say it was Rip, and show the teacher what he's really like."

Nal's response actually surprised him. “Don’t let him turn you into something that you don’t want to be.” His friend wore a thoughtful frown that Trev was not used to seeing.

Trev blinked and looked back at him, unaware that Nal was mostly repeating something Ryn had said to him earlier that same day. "Huh?" He hadn't really ever heard the other boy speak like this. Like.. thoughtful and wise or something. It caught him off guard.

"Don’t go down to his level. That's the sort of stuff he does, Trev. Don’t let him turn you into.. him.” Nal said with a shrug. "I like you the way you are. I don't know if I'd like you if you did the sort of stuff he does. So, you just keep being you, and let Rip be Rip. We definitely don't need another him. Right?"

Slightly stunned, Trev looked down, feeling bit ashamed as his friend pointed out what he had not thought about. He definitely didn't want to become like Rip. "Yeah." He agreed, and sighed. "Yeah, you're right. He'll get what he deserves sooner or later." He tried to console himself with that hope, anyway. But he determined that he would not resort to the bully's own methods, and risk becoming that which they all hated.



Pondering on that memory for a little while, occasionally sniffling, Trev found himself smiling faintly. Nal was right. This time, it applied to Dev, rather than Rip, but the thought was the same. He would not resort to Dev's level, and let himself become him. He would be himself, no matter what. 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger' someone had said, though he didn't remember who. He nodded to himself, trying to find some inner strength to anchor himself to.

Eventually, he sat up slowly, wincing as he moved into a sitting position. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to dry his eyes, thinking of his grandmother who had made it for his last birthday. She had always been so proud of him. Would she still be? The idea of making his friends and family proud of him was one he liked. He clung to that. To make them ashamed of him would be the worst thing he could think of. Taking his flute from where he had it stowed, Trev ran his finger over the etched initials, and smiled faintly. He sighed, thinking of his best friend, the one who still lived, and closed his eyes. More than anything, he longed to be able to see Nal and the others again.

Suddenly, something dawned on him. It was still May the fifth, he recalled. Nal's birthday. He smiled faintly as he thought of something. The best 'gift' he could manage to give his friend right now was to remain true to himself, and cling to the hope he would find a way back home eventually. And when he did, maybe he would be a stronger version of the Trevadir who had left. Yeah, he thought with a tiny bit of gladness stirring in his heart. He wouldn't let anyone change him. "Happy birthday, Nal," he whispered, resting his head back against the wall. Raising his flute to his lips, Trevadir softly played his friend's favorite song, and soon he began to smile despite his unfavorable predicament.

(end of this chapter)


(Nal's parts of the flashback were cleared with @Ercassie )
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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