The Pelennor Fields, Osgiliath, The Northern Fiefdoms (Free RP)

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

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Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Jan 2nd - In a carriage, traveling

Gladhron couldn't help a smile when Arnyn commented that Gaeroch is beautiful. "I'd say that I'd pass on the compliment next time I see her, but you'll see her before I do." He replied, a little sadly. It was going to be hard, he realized, not seeing his beloved horse for all this time. It hadn't quite seemed real until he said goodbye to her a little while ago.

But he was a bit surprised to hear that most people preferred white or black. "Really? That's funny. I've always been partial to the chestnut ones. My cousin has a pale-yellow horse. And Gwestion, of course, has Mael, dappled gray." He shrugged. "My father had a white horse. But that's.. I think the only one I ever knew who had either white or black."

He laughed a bit as she mentioned that it was fortunate that he wasn't driving. "Yeah, because I couldn't possibly figure out to keep the pace slow for this." He teased back. "I'd have us to our destination in about an hour, tops." He shook his head with a little sigh. "Is that why you won't give me a turn at driving? I bet they'd like a bit of excitement, you know?" He tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't quite manage it.


*

Ava grinned at Tercen. "Yes, exactly my own thoughts." She agreed, quite happy to hear his opinion about the palanquin. She nearly mentioned one of the creeps who she knew liked to be carried around in such a contraption, but thought better of it. She didn't want to give Tercen any strange notions about having a need for jealousy, and she didn't also want to give him any reason to take notice of the guy.

"I've never seen a camel." Gwestion commented with curiosity. "Are they anything like horses?"

Ava leaned her head against Tercen's side, thinking. "Well, they are four-legged, like a horse. I think they are a bit taller. They are particularly well-suited for the desert, since they can go a days without drinking any water." She explained. "It has something to do with having a lump on their back, which, I believe they use for storing water or something of the sort. Most breeds have only one, and but I have heard that some breeds, native to the lands in the far East, have two." She tried to think if there was anything else she could share about the creatures. "They live in large herds, usually. And they spit." She wrinkled her nose at that part. "And they can close their nostrils, in case of a sand-storm. Things like that. They are the color of the sand, too. So that helps them to blend with their environment. Although I have heard of some being brown, or even black, I have never actually seen one that color, myself."

"Sounds intriguing," Gwestion remarked thoughtfully. He was curious whether they would see them, and if they might even end up riding any of them, while there.

"I suppose they are interesting creatures. I am not very fond of them, really." She shrugged slightly. "I think horses are much more beautiful, and more graceful, animals." She smiled slightly at Gwestion. "You will see what I mean, when we arrive, I suppose. Sooner or later. They have a strange, irregular sort of gait. They sway side to side as they walk, and you must learn to balance yourself on them when you ride. If you would like to try it, I am sure it can be arranged."

"We shall see if it would be beneficial," Gwestion responded with a small shrug. He was curious, of course, but he would also not let himself get caught in 'trying new things' for 'fun' and end up distracted from his mission.

"Suit yourself." Ava shrugged and snuggled in closer to Tercen's side, re-adjusting her blanket to make sure it covered her feet, which she had curled up to the side of her.

---

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

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Halberion Veranis | Aderic Androllius
At the Inn of Imloth Melui

Hal was slightly surprised when Macardil came over to him, but he had to grin a little at his insistence on helping him. He knew what the man was doing, and he had to appreciate the thought behind it. "Fine, if you insist," He relented, although he was able to stand without Macardil's aid. Which he did, as the lady rose from the table. "Have a good night, Karis." He responded to her farewell, with a small incline of his head.

Ric also stood and gave a small, grateful nod to the lady, though he didn't say anything. Too late, he realized he ought to have gone over to open the door for the lady, but he had been a bit preoccupied and now she was already getting it herself. His mother would have scolded him for that, but fortunately, she was not here.

Once she had left the room, Hal gave a nod to Macardil to signal that he was ready. "Good night, Ric." He said to the young man, who seemed to intend to remain in the room. "And, thank you." He added. "For keeping your promise." He remembered that, and he also remembered being told that he would not be able to keep that promise. It seemed, he had found a way to come through on that promise after all.

Glancing up, Ric managed a weak smile as he nodded. "I'm glad I could, sir." He answered softly. He returned to his seat as they left the room.

Hal had to move slowly. He was quite tired from all the walking he'd done today, for the first time in years. While he could sit and stand well enough, his walking was slow and his muscles were tired. He was glad for the arm of his friend, to support him down the hallway. It would be a long recovery, he imagined, having to rebuild his muscles, balance, and fine-motor skills. Just to return to the state of 'normal abilities'. It would take even longer to restore himself to his previous level of physical fitness. It was frustrating, but at least now he was able to recover from his imprisonment. And he was determined that he would recover as quickly as he could. He had things to do. He had to find whatever was left of his family. For today, however, he knew that he needed to simply focus on getting settled in for a good night's rest, which would help him recover a lot from the day's exertions.

With Macardil's help, they didn't take too long to arrive at Hal's room at the inn. "I still can hardly believe this is real." He admitted, as he opened the door to his room. It had not been locked. He wasn't sure whether he would ever be able to be in a locked room again, but time would tell. "I can't tell you how glad I was to see you, even if I didn't quite believe my eyes, at first." He grinned.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
An inn in Lossarnach - Late December

Macardil had watched Ziran leave the room, unable not to. He nodded at Aderic, and hoped the young man would not let them down, for they were trusting him not to run off. They were not locking him in his room, nor did Macardil plan to kep tabs on him for the rest of the evening or the night. They would be operating upon no more than good faith, here.

Once Hal and Macardil had reached Halberion's room, it wasn't lost upon Macardil that his friend hadn't locked his door. Macardil drew in a slow, deep breath, at that. But the grin on his face was genuine, when his friend spoke of how he'd felt when he'd first seen him.

"I had some warning," he acknowledged. "While you did not." Macardil ran a hand through his dark waves, and shook his head. "I am still not entirely convinced I will not soon wake from some overly long, very elaborate dream. I must admit. I had never thought..." His hand lifted, found nothing to do, and dropped once again. A little uncomfortable with himself, he first let out a small sigh, followed by a brief laugh. "Well. Do we have what we need here?" he asked. "For that shave? Or should I retrieve my own shaving set from my room?"

---

@Rillewen

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Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen | Tercen
The Pelennor, a carriage - January 2nd

When Arnyn heard the sadness in Gladhron's tone as he acknowledged he wouldn't be able to pass on the compliment before she could, she felt guilty. In response, she straightened her shoulders just that little bit more, even as her expression clouded a little. She wasn't sure what to say, at first. But once Gladhron had expressed his surprise about what she'd said about people's preferences, she'd reclaimed her voice.

"Perhaps it was just the people, back then, that I am too focused on. Maybe it was a Gondorian officer's obsession. Black and white, you know. Like our flag, and the uniforms. It does make for a pretty picture on a white or black horse, I guess?" A half smile tugged at her lips and lit a gleam in her eyes. "But, with my blonde hair, the picture perfect Gondorian look was never in the cards, anyway." It was clear that she didn't really care much about that. "By the way," she added, her smile growing a little as she effortlessly leaned into the way Gladhron sometimes spoke about his mare, "I've already told Gaeroch what a beauty she is. Years ago. Why do you think she liked me so fast?"

When he returned to the topic of him driving the carriage, and let out that pretend sigh, Arnyn gave him a sidelong glance. She saw, then, how he was struggling (and failing) to keep a straight face. Arnyn's own expression was thoughtful, and she took her time thinking about whatever was going through her head. One would assume she was deliberating on what to say to the questions he'd put forth. Maybe she was considering what kind of funny little jab she'd offer up in return. Maybe she was wondering whether there was something going on beneath the surface and Gladhron's casual teasing. At long last, she neatly gathered the reins in one hand.

"If you're so sure you can set the right pace," Arnyn began, her tone having lost all traces of the jesting notes it had carried before, "then go on." She slowly extended the reins toward him. "You can take them."

Her gaze searched his expression. There was no teasing, no challenge, in her dark eyes. Only a type of focus that was impossible to label. "Show me how you would handle it."

*

Tercen's curiosity had him listening closely to everything Ava had to say about the camels. It seemed that Gwestion was curious, as well, to see more of these animals. But then the northern ranger said something that made Tercen snort. He didn't even bother holding it bavk, nor did he apologize for it after. "Beneficial," he repeated, not questioningly, but with an obvious trace of disbelief as Ava snuggled in closer against him. His arm around her shifted slightly, to help settle her a little better, but his attention remained on Gwestion. "You are going to be all business and no play, aren't you?" he mused, out loud.

After a heartbeat, he chuckled. "Arnyn will be glad you came along as her replacement..." His eyebrows lifted. "Actually, you might prove even more serious than she is," he added, as if having just realized something. "You're used to combatting your brother all the time, aren't you?" Arnyn only saw him a few times a year, usually, so it was probably easier for Tercen to convince her to let her hair down, than it would be for Gladhron to convince Gwestion.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

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Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Jan 2nd - In a carriage, traveling

"Perhaps," Gladhron agreed, finding it somewhat amusing to think of all the Gondorians trying to match their horses to the colors of the kingdom's flag. He grinned at her when she commented about herself not fitting into the 'picture perfect Gondorian'. "I think you make for a prettier picture, with your blond hair, and your big, slow, brown horse." He informed her with a smile.

As she reminded him that she had told Gaeroch how beautiful she is, before, Gladhron's smile renewed itself. "Aha, yes. That explains everything." He nodded with understanding. "She does like to be told how pretty she is." He frowned as if remembering something. "I forgot to tell Trastion that. Maybe he will tell her, anyway." He was joking, but said it as if he were serious.

After a moment of looking around at their surroundings while Arnyn seemed to be considering something, he was surprised when she handed him the reins, and told him he could take them. He half expected there to be a challenging tone to her voice, but there wasn't. He nodded. "Alright." He accepted the reins and smiled toward her before turning his gaze back to the road. "Too bad there's not another carriage around. We could race them." He couldn't resist the little joke, even though he wouldn't really have raced. Not with passengers and all.

"So, how much further until we reach the gates?" He wondered. They must be pretty close, right? And then... he wasn't sure what the plan was, once they got there. He tilted his head slightly to look at her. "The guards will let us through, won't they?" He asked. "Because, in Bree, once they close the gates for the night, they don't like to let anyone in or out." He explained. "Are we going to have to camp by the gates until morning?" He half-grinned at the image of them all setting up camp in and around the carriage. Part of him was even curious what Ava would do if that became necessary.


*

Ava bit her lip and tried to keep from snickering at the reaction Tercen had to Gwestion's comment.

Gwestion wasn't terribly surprised at the way Tercen reacted. He knew how similar the guy was to his own brother, and that alone amused him a bit. He sat back as Tercen asked if he was going to be 'all business and no play'. He already knew that Tercen was going to be the opposite, but he refrained from commenting about that. "I'm not going to 'play'." He reminded him. He knew Tercen knew that.

"Yes, I am used to him." He confirmed with a little nod. He wasn't really sure what more to say about that. He had a feeling this was going to be a very long carriage ride, and he was rather wishing he could be the one sitting up on the seat with Arnyn.

Ava hid a little smile and turned to Tercen. "This is a much nicer ride than it was coming to the city. Sitting in the carriage all by myself and all, it was cold and boring, then." She informed him, smiling, partly thinking it might help keep things peaceful between them if she distracted Tercen from Gwestion.

---

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

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Halberion Veranis | Aderic Androllius
At the Inn of Imloth Melui

Hal smiled slightly to hear that Macardil understood what he'd said. Not because his friend had had to endure a dungeon, as well, but because he didn't have to explain. They both knew. And there was no need to go into any further discussion about it.

Instead, he focused on what Macardil had asked him, as they entered his room. "Yes, I asked for the supplies to be brought up, earlier. While I was waiting on the rest of you. But.. then," He hesitated. "Well, I realized my coordination might not be the best, anymore." He admitted softly. "I wanted to shave. Or, to at least trim the scruff away.. like Alyssa used to," He motioned toward the desk, where the shaving kit remained. "She'd come visit me once a month, I think I mentioned that." Hal slowly lowered into the chair. "She'd bring her sewing scissors, and trim my hair and beard as well as she could, for me." He smiled sadly at the memory. "All the while whispering to me, to tell me things she'd found out." He added quietly. He glanced up at Macardil. "She's done a bit of detective work, you know. Even if she couldn't do much about it while she was stuck in that castle, she's found out a lot of things. And she's told me all that she learned."


*

After sitting down again, Ric stayed behind in the dining room for a little while after everyone else had left, staring down at the notebook in front of him. Everything about today was still difficult to believe. Most of it, he didn't want to believe. After a little while, a member of the staff came to see if they had finished eating, so they could clean up.

Ric gathered up his notebook and things, then went back to his room. Instead of going to bed, however, he sat down at the desk. Now that he'd jotted down everything Hal said, in shorthand, he began the task of copying all of that into longhand, so that when they returned to Minas Tirith, there would already be a written account of Lord Veranis' testimony. But that wasn't all that Ric intended to write. He would also write down all that he, personally, had learned. All that he had seen, and heard. And endured. He'd already spent the past few months trying to re-create his prior journal that was stolen, so that would also need to be copied into longhand. It would likely take him a while, he knew, but he thought it could be very useful, so he got out his quill and chose a fresh page on which to start.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
An inn in Lossarnach - Late December

He listened, even as he followed up on Hal's indication of the shaving kit, and proceeded to lay out the tools. There was some water at hand nearby, as well. Everything he needed was there. Macardil smiled a little, glad he would be able to give his friend this little thing. This small comfort. He remembered all too well how indescribable it had been to shave off his own beard, after mere months. Macardil had already felt like a different person - so much more himself, again. He longed to do the same for his friend.

He finished the preparations while Halberion spoke, and then pulled up a stool. He gestured for Hal to take a seat. "Well, part of me wishes to know what Alyssa found out, of course," Macardil murmured as he got started. "However, you should not talk - or even I might not be able to avoid a few cuts, with the kind of close shave you and I prefer. So how about this: while I am doing this," Macardil readied the blade, now, "I will tell you a bit more of how the five past years have been for me. And once you have your face back," he added with a little smile, "and we are both sick and tired of hearing me talk- you can return the favor."

And so Macardil began the shave, and his own story of the past five years. He told Halberion of how he had heard about the fate of the Veranis family. What it had been like. How Macardil had taken it. He told Halberion about the war, and what small part he had played in the enormous chaos of it all. He told his friend about the disbanding of Gondor's armies and the creation of the King's Rangers. About his position there, and his connection to Amathen. Macardil shared anecdotes about the commander - what he had appreciated so about the man. The mission to the Poros. What it had felt like to be... spelled. Macardil told Halberion more than he had told any other - more even than he had told Ziran. For Halberion.. Halberion had known him growing up. He knew every rebellious thought that had ever crossed Macardil's mind. There was nothing Macardil could tell Halberion now that would ever make him sink as low as he had been after Mellaurel's death, when he had been a pitiful, empty husk of a man.

The shave was done by the time Macardil spoke of how he had fared in the dungeons of Minas Tirith; how the guards had treated him, how he had kept up washing himself and his on set of clothes, how he had kept exercising as much as possible. How, at long last, Karis Ziranphel had come to speak with him. How they had spoken. How she had taken him to the King. What the King had done, or at least, how much of it he even could explain. He told Halberion of how he had invited her to dinner, how they had grown closer. How some empty abyss in his chest had started to fill. How good that had felt. But also how guilty that had made him feel. How it had taken him months before he had managed to sleep with his bedroom windows closed.

Everything. He told Halberion everything. As the two of them had always done. Not in long-winded detail, but it took a lot of time, nonetheless. He spoke of the engagement, the Dimaethor jousting event, the way he had first been received, and how the atmosphere had slowly changed due to the events throughout the days in Lond Col. He told Halberion more about Brenior's visit, and what had been said. About how Ziran and Macardil had met Aderic on the road. What had happened before Macardil had walked into Hal's cell.

His sapphire eyes looked drained, but relieved, then. "Your turn," he rasped, his voice raw with emotion. As far as Macardil was concerned, they had all the time in the world.

---

@Rillewen

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Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen | Tercen
The Pelennor, a carriage - January 2nd

Arnyn watched him for a moment longer than was necessary as he took the reins. She watched the way he accepted them, without even the faintest flicker of hesitation or awareness in his expression. He gave her nothing.

Just “Alright.”

And then he was joking again; offering her the same warm friendship he offered everyone. The moment, or whatever it might have been, disappeared under his words like a stone dropped into deep water. Arnyn's expression smoothed over again, like water settling after a skipped stone, and she let her gaze drift forward once more. She drew in a breath and adjusted her cloak around her shoulders as he asked about the gates.

"Gondor is at peace, now," she said matter-of-factly. "It does not follow Bree's example. We will be let through. Besides - even if they were on higher alert - they know me. We would be let through, regardless." It wasn't spoken with arrogance, just with practicality and what she knew as truth. "It shouldn't be long."

The cold was creeping in, as evidenced by the way her shoulders were allowed to draw inward a little, as if that would help her maintain her body heat better. Arnyn did not prove a very entertaining conversationalist for a while, sadly. But before long, they did indeed reach the gates. She was recognized, as she had predicted, and they were indeed allowed to pass beyond the Rammas, as she had assured him.

Thus, they continued on their way without a hitch.At a crossroads, Arnyn folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. If Gladhron had looked at the maps, then he didn't need her telling him what to do. He'd already know.

*

"I'm not going to play." Tercen wanted to make a joke about whether eating and drinking were still aright, but he thought better of it. Ava interjected at that time, and Tercen raised his eyebrows a little. "Well, I should hope that it is nicer," he said smoothly. "Or I'm not doing this right."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

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Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Jan 2nd - In a carriage, traveling

"True," Gladhron replied concerning being at peace. "I suppose Bree is, too," He acknowledged. "I was going on my memories of the other times I'd been there. Before the war. I don't know if they close the gates at night, now. We skipped past Bree and went straight to Seri's cabin, this time." He explained in a quiet tone. He recalled being trapped inside Bree's walls once when they closed them at nightfall.

He had done his fair share of driving during the trip from Seri's house to Minas Tirith, for they'd taken a wagon so that the ladies wouldn't have to ride. And because of their supplies and things. So, he was fairly well-practiced at keeping to a proper pace. Besides, Narsule knew what he was doing anyway. And the road was visible enough, despite the dark, so he mainly just had to make sure that he didn't veer off to graze or anything silly like that.

At last, after a greeting to the gate guards, they passed through and continued down the road. Again, the road to Harlond, and through it, was clear enough. It was after that where he might have to turn the reins back over to her, since he was not as familiar with where they were to be going. But that was still a ways off, he thought. For now, all he had to do was follow the road. But it was getting colder as the night progressed. He sneaked a few side glances are her now and then with his peripheral vision. He was pretty sure she looked cold, so after a while he reached down under the seat and brought out a folded blanket that he had stowed there before they left. He had thought that they might get cold sitting up here, so he'd thought it might be good to be prepared. Well, technically, it had been Seri's suggestion. But he'd thought it was a good one. "Cold?" He asked, holding the blanket out to her with a little smile.


*

Ava grinned and leaned her head against him. "Mm, much nicer. Cozier." She assured him, then glanced over at Gwestion. "Are you comfortable enough?"

"Quite fine, thank you." He assured her with a small nod. "In fact, the carriage seat is far more comfortable than I had anticipated it being." He was used to being on a horse, not sitting on a padded seat. He looked out of the window again, resisting a sigh, actually wishing he could have ridden alongside, instead. Maybe he should have suggested it. But that probably would have made the carriage stand out even more than it already did, with the ranger lieutenant driving it.

Ava thought for a moment, trying to decide how to pass the time. Even though they were not yet at her home, she was feeling a bit of responsibility as a host, and therefore she tried to think of how she might prevent the solemn ranger from sitting in boredom throughout the lengthy journey.

"I assume we still have a long drive ahead of us," She commented thoughtfully. "Perhaps we could find some sort of game that you are willing to play?" She suggested. "Do you do cards?"

He shook his head slowly. "My brother is the one for cards."

"There must be something." She persisted, frowning slightly. "What do you like to do?"

Gwestion sat back and debated whether to tell, but after a moment he relented. "I like chess." He shrugged. "But many people find that boring. My brother thinks that, anyway."

---

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

Halberion Veranis
At the Inn of Imloth Melui

He had to smile faintly at Macardil saying he wanted to know what she'd found out. Of course, who wouldn't? He watched while his friend laid out the shaving supplies and pulled up a stool. Hal draped a towel around his shoulders while his friend was suggesting that he shouldn't talk. "Agreed," He answered. "In fact, I hope you don't take offense if I keep my eyes closed." He added quietly. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle anyone else holding a sharp blade near his throat. Which was why he knew that he would only be able to trust Macardil with such a thing, but he felt it might be best if he kept his eyes closed, anyway. Just in case.

While his friend worked, Hal listened to all that he had to say. He was careful to keep still, so there was no nodding throughout. He also limited any verbal responses, but he listened to everything with an occasional sound to show he was listening. He couldn't help feeling just a bit jealous to hear about how much better Macardil's dungeon experience had been. Not that he wished for their places to be reversed. Obviously, it would be better if neither of them had had any such experiences. But he wished that his own 'dungeon experience' had been more like Macardil's.

He smiled slightly as he heard Macardil speak about how Karis had come to him, helped him get free, and how they had become engaged. He could hear the difference in his friend's voice when he spoke about her. As surprising at it had been to learn that Macardil had married again, after hearing about all of this, Hal could easily understand how he had managed to fall in love again. And he was glad for him, because he remembered just how broken he had been when his first wife died.

He had no idea how much time had passed by the time Macardil had finished his tale, and told him it was 'his turn'. His beard now gone, and the shaving done, Hal opened his eyes and looked in the mirror on the desk. He was a bit stunned at the difference, and let out a breath of relief at seeing his own face again, rather than the stranger who had looked back at him from the mirror earlier, when he arrived at the room and had access to a mirror for the first time in years. He was slightly older, and a good deal thinner, than he had been before Mar, but at least he could recognize himself again.

Feeling rather emotional as well, Hal put a hand on his friend's shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "Thank you, for this," He began, with a vague motion to his now-smooth face. He smiled faintly before resting back in the chair again. "Seems you've had an easier time than I have, but I know it still wasn't easy for you." He added sympathetically. "As for 'my turn'..." He offered a wry smile. "You've already heard about most of the basic parts, but I will tell what I can stand to tell you." He sighed, thinking for a moment. "If you feel that anything I tell you is something your ranger wife needs to know, then you can share it with her." He added, as it might be easier than Hal having to tell something again. Then he started to talk, with difficulty, a little more about the past five years.

He only ventured a little bit further into their treatment while being locked up in the cave under Tolfalas. How they had all agreed that Moira mustn't tell where she'd hidden that thing, no matter what. And how Ademar had tormented each of them in turns, trying to make her tell him where she had hidden it. It was possibly the most difficult part of the tale. And he told Macardil about how, after Moira made her daring escape, Alyssa was taken away for a while, and how worried Hal had been about her. And then, after more time passed, he'd begun to think he had been abandoned to die in there, but then Mar came back and brought him to the Ansellidus estate, secretly. How he'd actually had the audacity to try to get Hal to officially grant his permission for he and Alyssa to marry. And, when Hal refused, the scumbag merely shrugged and dug out the letter, from where Hal had replied to the request to meet them, and copied Hal's own signature onto the necessary documents. Even retelling it, Hal could feel his anger growing, but he struggled to keep a check on it. He told how the creep had threatened to kill Hal if Alyssa didn't marry him. And how, after having watched this guy murder her brother and mother, and the real Ansellidus, Alyssa couldn't bear to let her father also be killed.

"Of course, none of that is even valid, and I intend to have that marriage annulled as soon as possible. He supposedly married her using a name that isn't his own. And the name of a dead man, at that." He said through gritted teeth. If the 'not his real name' wasn't enough cause, then the 'name of a dead man' surely would be. After all, marriage was 'until death do us part', so how could Alyssa be married to someone who's dead?

He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm himself before going on. He told about how Mar had ordered him to be strapped down so that he couldn't move. Because he was afraid of what Hal would do if he were free to move. Because Hal, of course, would have continued to train, and he would have attacked his captor at the first opportunity. And Mar knew that, and was too cowardly to risk such a thing happening. He told Macardil how he had been immobilized for all the years he had been here, whether strapped into a chair, or chained to the wall as he had been when they had found him. But he went on to tell how he had done all he was capable of doing, straining against the restraints just to use his muscles, and whatever else he'd been able to do.

He went on to tell about how, sometime after that, Alyssa had gone looking for him, and how she had found him down in the recently-reopened dungeon. How Mar had caught her while she was trying to free Hal, and how, though she was clearly frightened, she had stood up to him in pleading for her father. Begging that he treat him better. How she'd demanded that she be allowed to see him regularly, so she would know he was still alive, and so on. Which was how she'd managed to get permission to visit him once a month.

He sighed, and then told what little he knew about her situation; how she'd had a suite of her own rooms, filled with all sorts of comforts and pretty things. How she had told him about several expensive things he bought her, trying to make her happy. As if he couldn't understand why she was unhappy. A collection of books, fancy dresses, beautiful jewelry, even a harp, and many other things like that. That, in Mar's own twisted way, he "loved" her, but it was more that he was possessive of her, and considered her 'his'. And Hal knew that, while Mar seemed desperate to try and buy her affections, he also treated her badly. That he hit her at times, or he frightened her with his threatening or controlling ways, and that he rarely let her out of the castle. And when he did bring her along to some sort of event, it was with the understanding that if she 'misbehaved' or said the wrong thing to anyone, that he would do horrible things to her father. He sighed. "I believe he only kept me alive for leverage, to keep her in his control." He admitted sadly.

He told his friend as much as he could remember about what Alyssa had found out; about how Mar made frequent trips to Umbar, that was involved with some important priest there. That he had brought Umbarians here to work in the castle, and that she believed he was plotting to help with some sort of invasion into Gondor. And that he was still desperately seeking for Moira, to try and get that crystal so he could revive the defeated Sauron. Hal shook his head and sighed.

"She also told me about Ric." He mentioned softly, before going what little he knew about the twin brother. How he had been kind to her. How he had expressed concern when he had suspicions that Mar might be treating her badly, and had even been prepared to confront his brother about the possibility of him abusing his wife. But out of fear, she'd had to convince him that he was wrong. Hal told Macardil what Alyssa had told him about Ric coming to visit the castle at times, how she said she felt almost like he was checking to make sure she was alright, how she felt that he truly cared about her. How they would talk together during this visits, always making sure there someone else around. But that Alyssa never could tell him any of the things she knew about Mar, because she feared what he would do to Hal if she said anything. He kept his voice quiet as he mentioned his own suspicions; that Alyssa had affection for Ric, even if she wouldn't dare admit it.

He then told Macardil all about Ric's visit to his dungeon a month ago, and how he had come in, trying to pretend like he was his brother until the jailor left, and then he'd dropped the act and explained who he was and why he was there. Hal told about how he had been so skeptical, because of past mind games done by Mar. And then he told him about all that had happened, what he and Ric had said, and how he had eventually come to decide that it was actually Ric, and not Mar trying to pull a trick on him, and how he had seen how bad Ric was at impersonating his brother... unless it was an act.

He told him about how Ric had unlocked him from the chair, had given him a sandwich he'd brought down with him, and how he had helped him to walk around a little bit. And he then told Macardil about how it had been necessary for Ric to leave, but that he had promised to get help. That Hal had told him to seek Macardil's cousin.. because Hal thought Macardil was still in jail. And how he had ended up telling Ric the things he had told him. He also mentioned that Ric had given Hal the key to the chair's locks... which Hal then promptly threw down the drain. And how, after Ric had gone, the jailor came back later to inform Hal that Ric would not be back because he had been locked up again. That Ric had asked him to tell Hal, so he wouldn't keep waiting in vain for help to come, because the young man had not wanted him to think he had simply forgotten or abandoned him.

Hal told him too, about how he had later begun to question everything about that visit, wondering if it had been a mistake to trust him, wondering if it had all been some sort of trick, and how he began to worry about whether he had given him information that he shouldn't have, and so on. But then he told him how, after that point, he began to receive a meal each day. He told Macardil that, if Farchon was to be believed, Ric had insisted on it. That he had refused to eat his own meals unless Hal was also getting one. Because apparently, his brother had left strict instructions to his staff that Ric was to be kept in good health.

He drew a deep breath as he finished with briefly summarizing how the past few weeks had been since; how the jailor had put him in the chains against the wall, because of Mar's orders to keep his mobility limited. But that, because of that, Hal had been able to exercise more of his muscles, and how he had built up a bit of his strength to the point that he could move from sitting to standing, and vice versa. Sometimes using his legs only, and other times using his arms to do pullups and such. How he had done everything he possibly could to build his muscles, but how he hadn't been able to practice things like walking, and balance.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Pharak Halsad, with Unalmis Raxëlilta, aged 15.
At the Chandlery, in Harlond. Six years ago approx
A FURTHER FLASHBACK (Continued from THIS POST and THIS POST)

Aside from the harbour master’s office, which authorised and oversaw ship's berths, and the harbour guard, which protected mostly customs and excise, there were other long established buildings out in Harlond, understandably concerned with nautical business. One of the oldest of these had been traditionally as it was still named, the Chandlery. A practical no-nonsense provider for candles, oil, pitch and tar and soaps; all things of that manner which a ship would undoubtedly require while out at sea. The original proprietor had come up from Pelargir, hoping to branch out on his own from a family business, and cater to those leaving from Minas Tirith, who did not wish to pause their ventures in the settlement downriver. But most still purchased such needs at the larger markets in the River city, from the same bulk providers which offered cordage, sails, and larger items. It inevitably worked out cheaper. And so the Chandlery in Harlond had been faced with financial troubles for some years before a nefarious smuggler or two decided to make it the base of a rather different type of nautical operation. The location of the building, with it’s opportunity for an underground, or “under-observed” dock, safely out of the notice of officials had secured it’s fate.

None of this was evident from the face of the building, and this particular day was the first time that Unalmis had ever been so far from home. His grandmother was prone to fretting, even when he and his friends roamed throughout the Pelennor, but the harbour was beyond the south gate; and that opened to the wider world. And the ocean. Odessa had not even trusted Nal to wave Trevadir off for the summer from that port. Rumours that her sons, a Ranger and a city Guard, had brought home, of some less than above board things which went on there .. smuggling and the like .. had all but convinced the grandmother that Harlond was a den of thieves.


It has to be said then that Nal’s first impression of Harlond Harbour, when he finally got to see it for himself, was almost a disappointment. And he had no idea how bad it was going to get. The walk out from the city had been not too idle, not too urgent, and the Burned Man had regaled his young companion with tales of that world beyond the one he knew. The one which existed beyond the old protective wall. He’d heard tales by now of course, from Ryndir who had ventured often out into Ithilien, in his new role as Ranger. And also he’d heard about ships from Trevadir who sailed out to visit his relatives in Lond Col every year. Unalmis also had relatives out in Lond Col, and he had begged so many times to be allowed to go out with Trev to visit with them .. but Grammyo had always said no. In part because she suspected her grandson might be tempted to explore his errant mother’s birthplace first .. in Pelargir. And find maybe her .. or relatives there, .. or who knew what else. Odessa had no idea what her grandson would actually find; she mostly did not want to lose anybody else who was dear to her.

In truth at first they stopped in each of the few inns. And each threshold the unlikely companions crossed together, people stared at the confidence of the strikingly scarred man. Noone was unkind, their kingdom had been at war long enough to know men came back changed. But they could not help but notice, all the same. And within each of those inns, as his companion capably gathered all attention from the room, Unalmis felt his hopes rise that there, this time .. they would find his Uncle. He could, no .. would, convince the man he had not seen since he was but three years old .. to come home, to fill at least one of the holes which had been left in his small family unit. His grandmother always raved about how much she missed Uncle Dom. And then there was the family sword .. there was still a place on the wall marking where it used to be displayed. They would be home by dinner time and he could not wait to tell Trev all about it in the treehouse after. With all three of their elder friends having gone out and already begun ‘career’s, the two youngest had to find their own fun anywhere they could. This was going to be a great tale to tell ! And who knew what great tales his uncle must have to tell ! After so long lost out in the wider world.


But every inn they trialled proved so much a disappointment as the one before, and before they had even been in Harlond half an hour, Unalmis had begun to feel his hopes dwindle. But .. the burned man had said he’d seen Domanol drinking here. With the sword. So close to home .. and only yesterday …

“Could we have missed him on his way up to the city somehow ?” the young man sighed, following the Umbarian about the streets, with no clue that this Burned man was in fact, an Umbarian. Pharak had perfected a Belfalasian accent, and Nal had heard some similar when his cousin Nardy had come out to visit Minas Tirith. Because apparently Nardy’s mother did not overly fret about that young man sailing off and visiting relatives in a strange city. Technically, Nardy was nearly 15 years Nal’s senior. But still. Even Toby went out on the ships to visit, and he was so much younger .. This one .. this first chance .. to get even a glimpse of a more exciting world, to bring home the man that would heal his grandmother’s heart and the heirloom which would soothe his father’s .. it was failing on all counts thus far.


And then the Burned Man had pointed out the Chandlery. A building which looked no more interesting, in fact it looked rather less interesting .. than many of the others they had passed by without stopping. But the stranger required supplies, and he said this was where everybody got their supplies before they shipped out. So if Domanol had left Harlond since Pharak had seen him here, then somebody at the Chandlery might know. A sword like the one his uncle carried would have been noted.

Of course Domanol Raxëlilta had not in fact set foot in Harlond for more than a decade and the ruse which had led the young man to ditch school and come out on a whim, had been an entire falsehood.


But a glance around the Chandlery’s interior gave nothing, and the fifteen year old was far more interested to see such strange things on the shelves as he’d never encountered thus far in the city. He missed the conversation which was carried out by the Burned Man and the man who was stood at the counter. For the question of ‘have you seen ..’ was negated fairly quickly. And from that point really, what else was worth hearing. The Gondorian felt his shoulders slump as it dawned on him he would have to go home with nothing to lessen his grandmother’s ire. He wasn’t too worried about being in trouble for missing school, since he’d failed his last year exam on purpose, so that he could stay another year in classes with Trev, who was younger. After all, GrammyO had said he wouldn’t be allowed to enlist until he was 16. So in the meantime he wasn’t really learning anything new. He was just reviewing the same things as last year, killing time. But the old woman was going to be furious that he’d gone as far as Harlond. And anyone who thinks an old woman can not get super angry, was not practically raised by their grandmother.

Resolved then to write off this random ‘adventure’ idea, and with nothing really even remotely exciting to tell Trev about it either, Unalmis was stirred out of his growing disappointment by the sight of something very small, rolling across the wooden floor of the Chandlery. At first glance he had assumed it was a coin, or something that the Burned Man had accidentally dropped. But it was not a coin. And though the Burned Man had dropped it indeed, he had not done so accidentally.


Stopping to retrieve it from the floor for his new friend, Nal turned over in his hands what he did not recognise to be a seal. He had never come across the tool before, although the heraldry about it was familiar. Just like .. the heraldry he’d seen on some of Nardy’s things. A bewildered frown prepared to see the young man resume his full heights, and present the odd discovery back to the Umbarian. But before he was properly stood backup, something struck him, hard, and from behind. The completely unexpected blow took him back down to both knees. And as brown eyes swam in a mist of confusion over what had just happened .. a second blow stopped him in the motions before turning to see. The floor rushed up to greet him and though he paused just inches from meeting it, the turbulent ringing between his ears fought with the splitting pain and the young man barely caught Pharak’s own, stunned expression, before he collapsed proper into a dark nothing of unconscious. The small seal escaped his grasp and rolled back across the floor.

In the doorway stood a second young man of Gondor, whom Pharak had likewise met just the day before, in the White City. Though shocked at the mercenary deed he had just witnessed, there was no denying yet more evidence that the sly twin was going to prove very useful. If, clearly, used to doing whatever he liked when he felt like it.


“You are early,” the Umbarian informed Mar. And the taut skin stretched across the Burned Man’s jaw .. tried his best effort at a smile.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Unalmis Raxëlilta, with Xyler and Hadassa
Out in the Pelennor Fields, Dec 30th

The talk of shift patterns made sense the moment it was mentioned, so Xyler’s shrug met understanding. For how many times could Unalmis have said that he went all day or sometimes for several days without seeing his room mates, outside of them occasionally sleeping in the same corner of the barracks ? He’d purposely signed up for more kitchen and guard duty of late, even though he despised guard duty. Because he knew that Mourgan, or rather Cali would appreciate her new acquaintance spending duty time with her at the armoury, instead of him. Not that he imagined much more work was getting done, than when he ‘helped’ her out himself. But doubtless the distractions were quite different and he avoided imagining that as much as he could. Meanwhile Trastion was always off doing some mad focused training with Arnyn. While Isys preferred to do her training with Unalmis .. outside of the training grounds …

And when Xyler said that the Guesthouse had been the first time he’d seen Eryn .. since the masquerade .. that rang true as well. It had not been long then, that she had been .. different. Absent ? Preoccupied. A week .. maybe ? Not long enough to be really bothered about it then. Deciding to let the nagging thought of not just what had happened but why it was bothering him, go, he rounded all thinking back to helping the mysterious girl get her lost necklace back. After all, he was running out of time.


“She wasn’t blonde, but she did sound like she was from Rohan,” he shrugged, as Xyler delved into more intrigue of his quest. “Her accent was a .. little like yours ? But not quite.” It had been a little more polished, but he did not know a polite way to explain that, and so did not. He very much liked his friends’ accent. But it wasn’t .. quite .. the same as the one he was looking for now.

“Her hair was dark actually, very dark. Like yours,” he nodded toward Hadassa. “Do you know if this Melahney was going to attend the masquerade ? I think my quest was staying with a friend here in the city. She said a friend had helped her to get ready. That’s where we met. At .. at the masquerade,” he explained the main reason why he did not rightly know who he was actually looking for. “I figured though that this friend of hers might have been Gondorian. I mean. If she was here staying with a friend, then it stands to reason the friend might be from here. Else how would she have known to come to a dance in Gondor at all, save by chance ?”


Taking a moment more to ponder, and in that meantime also blow gently so that his ember glowed like smoking garnet .. Unalmis almost dropped his jaw in amusement to hear that Xyler was also looking for somebody. He did not glance with any evidence toward Hadassa. But rather sent his focus onto the smouldering log piece. Which to be fair, did require some supervision.

“So your secret someone is somebody you knew back home ?” he deduced, slowly. “Did they visit without leaving an address to keep in touch, like we did ?” Brown eyes narrowed when the Rohir said that his search was ‘probably silly’ .. He’d said the exact same thing about his own search, to Sorrel. “You say you don’t know what part of Gondor this .. ‘she’ was from. But .. I mean, someone from Belfalas sounds a lot different to someone from Anorien,” The Gondorian attempted to explain his reasoning. “Did your quest speak in an accent like you’ve heard folk here speaking ? Or different ?”

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie
Carpe Diem

Cadil with Unalmis
Arrival in Harlond. Last day of the Harvest festival, last year

“I suspect sandwiches have turned into stew by now, so I doubt you can harm them much more, if you really want to carry the bag,” Cadil laughed when his friend offered to carry his bag. “But I still think they would prove to be good sustenance at need. So… you sure?” He took the pack and extended it towards Nal.

“Umbarians, always those Umbarians…” he grumbled then and could not help rolling his eyes. “And it is a few heads and a few sets of eyes together that provide best solutions. And then again… who knows if it might have gone better without me meddling in matters way over my head.” His voice went quieter and his shoulders slouched for a heartbeat before he straightened back up determined to go on.

Pushing the hat slightly back and out of his eyes, Cadil then set off along the path steadily, though he did stop now and then briefly to look and listen. He remembered to watch the path as well thinking that it would do no good to go down nose first and eat mud.

Rounding a bend in a path and coming to a more open patch between the reeds growing on the shore, he stopped, his hand immediately going up in a stop-signal he still remembered from his soldiering days.

“A ship,” he whispered as he moved back a step into the cover of reeds and then parted them slowly to observe more carefully. A frown settled on his face as he then looked to his companion. “Not sure I like this sight, though.”

---

@Ercassie , @Rillewen

Hadassa with Xyler and Unalmis
Out in the Pelennor Fields, Dec 30th

Hadassa had been enveloped in the pleasant atmosphere of their little camp, and for a while she forgot about the offer of carrots she had made, even as she listened to how Nal had these farmers whom he helped. It resonated with the willingness to help people at need that dwelt in her own heart though her assistance was still more often rejected than accepted due to her looks. She kept telling herself that people would get to know her with time and become more open.

When a log ended up in her lap, later supplemented with an ember, she put in: “Ohhhh. That kind of burn bowl. I somehow imagined that it was a name for a meal.” She chuckled at her own thinking, and then added in relation to secrets: “I don’t think I have any of my own that would be relevant. At least not in terms of searching for someone. But I promise not to go around whispering your secrets.”

She then listened to the two boys talk of their respective searches while carefully tending to her bowl-to-be. She decided not to interfere with Xyler’s story even if she could add what little things he had already told her – after all it was not hers to share.

“Not blonde, you say? With a Gondorian friend?” she rather turned her attention to Nal’s secret. “I seriously doubt it could be Melahny. And there are not that many folks with dark hair in Rohan. Unless the hair is dyed.” She paused for a while and then wondered: “And unless it is someone posing as a Rohir for the masquerade.”

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
An inn in Lossarnach - Late December

After Hal finished, Macardil said nothing. Not out of a loss for words, but because there was simply too much to feel at once. Anger. Relief. Grief. Pride. And the sorrow at hearing someone he loved telling a tale of suffering which he should never have had to endure.

Macardil leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, and looked Hal full in the face. “Your strength did not only keep you alive in that hell,” Macardil murmured. “Somehow, you are still... you. Yourself.” He let the words sit in the air between them. Then his jaw tightened: a quiet, precise fury he had perfected over the years. “Ademar will face justice,” he said simply. “Proper justice. And Alyssa’s marriage...” He clenched his jaw. “Hal, it was never valid. Not by Gondorian law, not by any custom, not by any Vala or Maia anyone sane prays to. She was coerced. You were imprisoned. He forged a dead man’s name. There is no marriage. There is only crime.”

He drew in a breath, calmer now, though the anger still simmered beneath. “You have told me things no one should ever have to relive,” he said quietly. “Or live through in the first place. I can see how much it cost you. I… am honored that you chose to tell me so much about it.”

His voice caught for half a heartbeat — barely audible, but real.

“And... I am furious on your behalf.”

He reached over and clasped Hal’s forearm, his sapphire eyes holding Hal's gaze. “You are not alone in this. Not for one moment,” Macardil said. “I mean to stand with you every step of the way. In your physical rcovery, in freeing Alyssa of her fake husband, and in seeking justice for all that has been done to you and your family." He let go only after giving Hal’s arm a last, firm squeeze.

When Macardil spoke again, his tone was softer. “I am so damned glad you are here, Hal. And I am so damned proud of you for not losing yourself, with everything you have had to face.” For Macardil was certain that he would have.

---

@Rillewen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen | Tercen
The Pelennor, a carriage - January 2nd

She slanted her head a little. Did Gladhron mean he and Gwestion hadn't been to Bree since the war had ended? Or that he'd just been there more often, obviously, before the war had ended? Yet, given that Seri's cabin had been mentioned, and how sensitive that topic was, Arnyn firmly decided not to inquire further in that particular direction, and leave it be.

Gladhron was doing well with the carriage and Nársulë, so Arnyn relaxed slightly as she sat back. That seemed to only make her colder, however, so her muscles soon tensed again, as her thoughts wandered over several conversations she'd had these past few days, not the least of which a particular conversation she'd had with Tercen. Her thoughts were interrupted by Gladhron, asking and offering her something. Arnyn blinked once at the blanket, before her eyes flicked to Gladhron's little smile. As quick as a flash, several thoughts flitted through her head. But what would the point be in pretending she was not cold, in front of him?

So the Lieutenant nodded, and accepted the blanket. She shook it out and after a moment's thought, arranged it around and over her shoulders, like a second cloak, one she wrapped around herself as well as she could. The cold had seeped through the fabric, but she knew it would warm up in a little while, and then it would definitely make a difference. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Aren't you?" She glanced at her friend. "Cold? It is beyond me how you could step outside without a cloak, the other day. Or shoes."

*

He couldn't help the pleased smile that appeared all over his face whene Ava confirmed this ride was much nicer- and cozier. Tercen was content to sit back and listen as she ventured another attempt to converse with the more taciturn of the northern ranger brothers.

Tercen held back a snort, and any kind of response really, when Gwestion said 'his brother was the one for cards'. And fun, Tercen added mentally. Outwardly, he just seemed mildly interested in their conversation; no more than an easy-going man waiting to see what the other two would settle on. All the while, he was keeping one ear on the conversation that was going on between Gladhron and Arnyn, up front. After Gladhron had confessed to him how he felt about Arnyn, Tercen had taken an interest in how all... that... might play out. And he still was not sure what had or had not happened at Arnyn's, a few nights ago. When Gladhron had stayed over. If anything had happened between them, however, those two were doing a ridiculously good job of not letting it show.

His eyebrows lifted when Gwestion spoke of liking chess. "Chess," he mumbled, unable not to, despite his earlier successful efforts of keeping his thoughts to himself. He fought the urge to cross his arms, aided by the fact that he could not do so with the way he had one looped around Ava. "Whatever else the game may be," he said, "chess is not boring." He looked out the carriage window to the darkness that now lay beyond.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Halberion Veranis
At the Inn of Imloth Melui

None of the content of their recent talk had been easy. The silence that followed was almost a relief. Hal felt almost as if his throat was raw from all of the talking. It wasn't as if he hadn't spoken to anyone in all the time of his imprisonment; he'd had plenty of people to talk to. None of them were his friend, however, and until now, there had been no need to discuss any of what happened, with those available to him to talk to. Alyssa already knew everything that had happened to all of them, and the others who had come to his cell... were not exactly friendly. The jailor, Farchon, was his most frequent 'visitor', but he had been unwilling to listen to the truth. Hopefully, after today, that had changed.

Regardless of any of that, it was all out there now, between himself and Macardil. He had pushed himself to reopen some of his wounds by telling his friend a little more than was comfortable for him to talk about. It would have been far too difficult with anyone else present. And, although he had not done anything more physically demanding than sit in his chair, Hal felt exhausted by the time he had finished telling all of it. This whole day had been very tiring. Almost deceptively tiring. He'd be glad for a proper night's rest. In a bed, for the first time in years.

A faint smile of appreciation came to his fresh-shaven face as Macardil spoke of him still being himself. "That, I suppose, is my way of being defiant." He admitted. "It was.. I think, the only thing that kept me from despair." He cleared his throat. "Plus, it was.. satisfying, to see his reaction when I proved that he had not managed to break my spirit." He allowed a small grin. "A dangerous game, perhaps, but worth it. There was little else to keep myself occupied with, after all." He shrugged slightly.

As for Alyssa, he nodded. Yes, he knew it wasn't valid. But as far as all the papers showed, it appeared to be. So, he would have to have that amended as soon as possible. To hear his friend telling him that he was not alone.. Hal felt his throat threatening to tighten with emotion. He swallowed and nodded as Macardil continued. He reached out to clasp his friend's arm, though he clearly lacked his former strength. "Thank you." He managed to say in a whisper. "I.. that means a lot, to hear you say that." Not that he hadn't expected his friend to feel that way, but to hear it spoken aloud, that was meaningful. He smiled. "I'm glad to be here, too." He had to agree, with a little laugh. "And I'm glad you survived your trials, Macardil."

Drawing a deep breath, he tried to recover from the emotional moment. "Well, you've been here a long while, I guess." He realized. "You shouldn't keep your wife waiting too long," He grinned. "Sorry I missed the wedding." He added jokingly. He leaned back with a little sigh. "It's ridiculous how tired I am, after doing so little." He shook his head slightly, inwardly a bit frustrated, but trying to be understanding of his own condition. Still, it was nice to have been able to do what little he had done, today. Hopefully, in the days to come, he'd be able to do more, and without having to stop to rest, or have a friend support him. But the knowledge that his friend would support him, every step of the way, was comforting. "Tomorrow is looking far more promising than any of the previous 'tomorrow's have been in a while." He grinned. "See you then, Macardil."

---

Aderic Androllius
At the Inn of Imloth Melui - Late in the night

In his own room, Ric had spent his time writing. Everything that he had written in his notebook, which was in shorthand, he now wrote again, in longhand. Not just what Hal had said, but all of the things that were already in his notebook, from the past weeks. He had a lot there. Everything he could remember which had previously been in his journal, everything he had learned since the journal was stolen, and all the things he suspected his brother had done. It took him a while to get through all of that.

It was already well into the night before he got into the new stuff that he had learned just today, which he hadn't had a chance to write down. Then the stuff that Lord Veranis had told them at the table. As Ric started getting into the parts about his friend being held captive in that horrible cave, his vision blurred for a moment as tears gathered there. Pausing his writing for a moment, he quietly brushed at his damp eyes.

He'd tried not to think about it, to somehow detach himself from what he was writing. But as he wrote his friend's name, it all came crashing back and hit him full force. Now, he no longer had anyone around for which to try and appear strong. He tried to think about how nice it was for the lords. That Macardil had been able to rescue his friend, Halberion, after all that time believing him to be dead. But that only made him think of all the time he and Amy had both spent, searching in vain for Reilly.. hoping that he might be alive... and all the while… all the while, Mar had been holding him in some dungeon? Torturing him? Torturing his family..? And he had killed him?

Struggling to keep a grip on himself, Ric drew a slow, shaky breath as he dropped his head into one hand, trying to make himself keep writing. His memory flitted back to the day, which now felt so long ago, when Mar had generously offered to pick up the search for Reilly, because Ric's job hindered him from doing as much as he'd like.

“Don’t worry, Ric. Everything will be just fine.” Mar promised as he put an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Just go back home and stop worrying. I’ll keep you informed if I find anything.”

“Thanks, Mar. This means a lot to me.” Ric smiled slightly in relief.

“Well, I know how much he means to you." Mar replied. "And I know how close you two are.” He added quietly, looking out at the river. “Don’t worry, Ric. Everything will turn out just as it should.”

Ric’s hand trembled a little as he gripped the quill tighter, fighting not to press down too hard, lest he break the tip off. The words replayed in his mind.

“Well, I know how much he means to you. And I know how close you two are.”

Ric blinked a few times and wiped at his eyes, then set the quill down as he pressed his face down into both palms. Mar knew how close Ric and Reilly were, and yet..?

“I know how he means to you, and how close you two are.” The words echoed again in his memory. How could he do that? Ric got up and began to pace, feeling that he needed to move. To do something. After all that he'd learned about his brother, Ric no longer doubted the truth, but he simply couldn't understand. He felt almost suffocated from the emotions swelling up in his chest. Why? Why would his brother do this? How could he do such a thing? He knew exactly how much Reilly's friendship had meant to Ric, and yet… he had killed him? Ric’s best friend... the only person who had ever been willing to be his friend. But why?

“I know how much he means to you.”

He stopped at the window and stared hard out into the night. He had no idea how late it was by now. Nor did he really care. He knew that if he tried to go to bed now, he'd only lie awake, tossing around as he wrestled with this troubling question. So he stared, trying to make sense of it. Trying to think of any possible reason his brother could've had. But nothing made sense. Reilly had been missing for months before his little sister stole that crystal from Mar. Months before Mar had taken the rest of the family captive. Which left another puzzling question. Why? Why take Reilly captive that long before he ever had cause to take the rest of the family hostage?

Reilly had taught them useful things. Things which Ric had used today in apprehending the false guards, in fact. They'd helped each other get through training. He'd even defended Mar once when he nearly got kicked out of training. He'd been kind to them both. Ric had thought that they were all friends. He'd never noticed any indication that Mar disliked Reilly, so what was he missing? He resumed pacing, and then stopped and wondered. Could it be that Lord Veranis knew why? He hesitated, looking out of the window again. It was far too late in the night to go ask him, now. But he hoped he might get a chance, at some point. With a sigh, Ric wiped his eyes and went back to his desk. He might as well finish writing down everything, because he definitely wasn't going to be able to sleep now.

---

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion

Xyler
Pelennor Fields, Dec 30th

"Hm, I'm not actually sure where she went after we reached Gondor." Xyler admitted, concerning Melahny. "She seemed mostly concerned with selling her herbs and things." He shrugged slightly. "Her hair's dark, but not as dark as Hadassa's," He added. "Maybe someday we can introduce you. But no, she doesn't sound like she fits the description of your... quest?" He wasn't sure whether that was the right word to use. "I do know that she travels a lot, so she could have friends in Gondor, I guess. But I don't know if she had any intention of going to the masquerade." He added thoughtfully.

He took a moment to think about it while he followed Nal's example by gently blowing on his ember, to help it burn into the log. Nal's questions made him glance up again, blinking. "Oh.." He realized that he had yet to clarify just who he was looking for. "Um," He hesitated, then drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. "Actually, I don't really know if she has an accent or not." He admitted, looking down a little uncomfortably. "I don't know very much about her at all, in fact. It's my mother," he glanced up. "I don't remember her. I was only a baby, when... well, when she was last seen. It's sort of... complicated, I guess."

He adjusted his log to rest more comfortably in his lap, and looked over at the horses for a moment, making sure they were fine over there. "It's probably too much to hope for, but I thought if I could find out where in Gomdor she was from.. maybe she had family that I could talk to. Learn more about her, and... you know, maybe I have cousins or something that I don't know about. But.." He smiled wryly. "I guess that'll be like finding a needle in a stack of pins." He shrugged. "Your quest sounds a lot easier, anyway. A really dark-haired girl, from Rohan?" He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I mean, I know it wasn't Hadassa," He grinned at her. "Cause we spent most of that evening dancing with each other. I didn't notice anyone else who might be from Rohan, though."

---

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
In a carriage, traveling

Gladhron couldn't help a little laugh at her question. "Oh... I don't know. I just forgot them." He shrugged. It was the genuine truth. He hadn't even deliberately "forgotten". "I'm used to the winters out north," He explained. "This is cold, sure, but not nearly as bad as it can be in Arnor, especially the most northern areas."

He realized, of course, that she had missed the worst of it, since she had left before it even became autumn. He refrained from mentioning that, however, for that had been a difficult parting for them all. "I'm alright, for the moment," He assured her. "I have a few layers on. Figured I might be out in the cold for a while, so I thought I'd better dress for it." Shrugging, he tried to dismiss the possibility of his being cold.


*

Gwestion had to admit, it was a surprise to hear Tercen say that. As similar as he and Gladhron were, he would have expected him to have the same opinion. He was glad to hear otherwise, and a faint trace of a smile was quickly hidden as Gwestion also looked out of the window.

Glancing from one to the other, Ava had to resist rolling her eyes. "Well, if only we had a chessboard, perhaps the rest of this trip would be more entertaining." She commented, almost regretful. If it had been only herself and Tercen, she wouldn't mind at all. But the other passenger made her feel as if it would be rude to ignore him and focus entirely on Tercen, so she was trying to find ways to include everyone in something that they could do to pass the time.

"If?" Gwestion replied, glancing back at Ava, an eyebrow raised questioningly. He reacted before he had a chance to think, and only then did he think perhaps he shouldn't have spoken up. But it was too late now.

Ava tilted her head questioningly. "You mean to say that you carry your own chessboard around?" She asked with mild amazement. "I want to see it." Unintentionally, she let her tone sound just a bit more demanding than she meant for it to, without noticing.

Gwestion paused, hesitating. He wasn't sure he wanted to show her the simple chess pieces that he had made, in case she laughed at his work. And yet, he had sort of painted himself into a corner with his reaction just now. He thought for a moment before giving in. "It's.. nothing like you might expect." He warned, while pulling his pack closer to him in the seat, so he could dig it out.

"Would we be able to play, though?" Ava wondered as she glanced around, trying to decide if they could set the board up on the (mostly) empty seat next to Gwestion, or if the motion of the carriage might make it too difficult to keep the pieces in place.

"I think so," Gwestion hesitated. "You really want to play a game?" He asked the lady, curious about her motives. Was she trying to distract him from his 'job' of watching? Or did she honestly just want to play a game out of boredom?

"I would, if one of you would oblige me." Ava declared. "Perhaps we can take turns playing? Would you like to play the winner, Sunshine?" She asked him, hoping to draw him into it as well. "You know, I have no idea how good I am at this," She added with a little laugh. "It's been some time since I've played."

---

@Ercassie

Ademar (Aka Nâluthor)
Harlond, the Chandlery
About 6 years ago, around noon

Mar had to an inn in Harlond last night to sleep because he wanted to be able to get up early and explore around a bit, to make sure he knew where he was going to meet his friend, at noon. Plus, he had nowhere else to stay at the moment, and he'd nearly blew his 'cover' by being in Minas Tirith at all, so he couldn't risk anyone else maybe seeing him as well as his brother. He certainly didn't think it would be wise to go to an inn in Minas Tirith for the night, after that near catastrophe. So, he'd arrived late last night, and the tired innkeeper hardly glanced at him as he asked, through a yawn, for the young man to sign the register and pay for the night in advance.

Mar had been thinking, during the trip out to Harlond, about what name to use. Because, he realized of course, that the inn would ask him to put a name down on their register. And he didn't think it'd be very smart to use his own name, because if anyone ever looked into this whole thing, he would not want his brother to find his name attached to any inn's register at the same time that their enemy from school had anything 'terrible' happen to him. Equally, he couldn't put his brother's name down on it, lest someone place Ric at the 'scene of the crime'. Whatever it would be, that is. He still had no idea what to expect. But in the end, he felt pretty smug with the name he ended up deciding to place on the inn's register. For a while after lying down, his mind kept racing with all the possibilities of what might be planned for his long-time nemesis, but eventually, he felt asleep.

Immediately after having breakfast in the inn's common room, he checked out and then set off to explore around the harbor town. He hadn't ever spent very much time in Harlond. In fact, he could count the number of times he'd been there on one hand. The first thing he did upon finishing breakfast was to look for the address which his new friend had given him before they parted. It didn't take him long to find it, but it was still hours before he needed to meet him. So, he spent the remaining time exploring the harbor, to get a bit more familiar with it. But he didn't really see much else of interest there.

But what he did see, to his great surprise as he was browsing around a fishing supply store, was the man with burn scars, approaching an inn a little way down the road. Mar had just happened to be examining some stuff displayed in the window and had looked out of the window just in time to see them. He blinked and looked more carefully, making sure he wasn't mistaken. That was him, yes, walking along the street toward the very inn where Mar had stayed at. Did he somehow know that Mar had decided to stay the night there? Was he looking for Mar? He shifted his gaze to the figure walking beside him.. and realized that it was none other than Anal-mess. Withdrawing his face slightly from the window, Mar tilted his head in curiosity, watching as long as his position in the window allowed him to see them.

What was that about? After a few minutes, he saw them walking away again. Interesting. He thoughtfully watched where they went from there. After a few more moments, Mar decided to investigate a little more. In moments, he was back out on the street. Following them at a distance, he watched as they went into the very place where he was to meet with his new friend, in... well, he wasn't sure much longer until noon, but it seemed like it must be pretty near to it. He was expected to meet his scarred friend any moment, anyway.

After waiting for a moment's thought to consider all those factors, he approached the place cautiously and took a swift glance in through the window. There he was. Right there by the door. His back to him, as well as to the door. This was some sort of trap, right? They were going to do something to him, to make sure that he suffered. So, why let him linger near the door, where he might be able to flee? Mar frowned at the thought of him getting away. After taking another moment to think about it, he moved to the door, easing it open as quietly as he could, slipping in cautiously, ready to stop Nal from trying to leave, in case he tried.

And then Nal suddenly became interested in something on the floor. He was bending down, preoccupied. Mar started moving almost before he realized it, his heartrate speeding up as he recalled the many years of enmity, all through school. The way they had rigged up that stupid lunch pail with ink, and then laughed when he got stuck to the seat. His hand found an object off of a nearby shelf, and swung. The bronze candlestick struck with satisfying force, but then Nal started trying to turn around! Another swing took care of that, and Mar stood looking down at his foe with a little smile of satisfaction.

Then he froze, as he suddenly remembered that he was not alone. Mar looked up as his friend informed him that he was early. "Seems to me, I was just in time." Mar answered with an unconcerned shrug, though he did cast his gaze around to check if there was anyone else in there who might have witnessed his actions. "I didn't want him to slip out and get away." He added, turning back to his burned friend. "He could've, you know, and then everything would've been ruined." Both of their plans and desires hinged upon this young fool coming to his end, right? So, Mar had done him a favor just now, right? He surely couldn't be upset about that.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
An inn in Lossarnach - Late December

He shook his head with a smile when Halberion said that staying himself and staying sane had been his act of defiance. Even so - Macardil did not think many would have managed that. Even with a visit from their daughter, once a month. It would have only been such a short visit, compared to the many, many - endless - hours... that would have stretched on until her next visit.

He looked at Hal with some lack of understanding when his friend started shoeing him out of the door. Because Macardil should not keep his wife waiting? If there was anything Ziran would understand about Halberion's situation - it was returning to those you cared about after captivity. But Hal was unaware of that, of course.
At his joke, Macardil gave him a half-smile, and his voice was much more serious than his friend's tone had been. "Maybe so," he acknowledged about Hal missing the wedding, "but you will be there for the rest of it, my friend. And that is more than I could have hoped for. Until today."

Recognizing his friend might wish to rest, since he was tired, Macardil rose from his own seat. Yet he did not leave before wrapping a very manly arm around Halberion. "See you tomorrow," he confirmed, before stepping back, flashing a quick grin at Hal, and leaving his quarters.

Upon Macardil's return to the room he shared with Ziran, he felt his own exhaustion heavy upon his shoulders. He did not mind at all, therefore, to find his wife asleep. He did not have any conversation left in him, and it was a blessing to be able to simply prepare for bed and slide under the bedding next to her; her presence warm and steady beside him.

The next morning, Macardil was glad to wake beside her, and he wondered - painfully so - whether this in fact would be the first day Halberion woke in a bed without Amelina beside him? She had been taken from him by Ademar, years ago, and Macardil doubted Halberion had been gifted the luxury of a bed since the last morning Amelina had been alive.

Those thoughts clouded his mind as well as his expression as they made ready for the day. The guard of the town called upon the inn during breakfast, sending a request for their full accounts of the events up at the Ansellidus Castle. From all of them. In return, they received word of the current situation at the castle, where the steward continued to cooperate and where guards had been posted to make sure no new party of mercenaries or Umbarians would be getting any ideas.

This took no small amount of time, and given the turmoil of what the previous day's events as well as this day's testimony would have caused for Halberion, Macardil paid for another night at the Inn of Imloth Melui. It also gave him time to speak at length to Ziran, so she might know what Macardil knew, and so she might ask him what questions with which she would not have wished to burden Hal. Their meals were shared that day, all of them, and Aderic was also always invited. If he was to join them to Minas Tirith, it would be best to include the man. He had given his own testimony to the guards of the village, after all. It was a promising start to his promise to see this through, and 'face the music'.

By some unspoken agreement between them all, they did not dive into the heavier topics that day. Instead, they spoke more of the oncoming journey to Minas Tirith. For while they had only made one overnight stop on the way here, Macardil figured they would be travelling more slowly on the way back. They had set out from Minas Tirith on the 23rd, to arrive at the castle the 24th. Now, they would leave Imloth Melui on the 26th, and Macardil was planning on frequent breaks to give Halberion the chance to stretch his legs briefly - but regularly - multiple times a day. And to keep things from becoming too awkward between Halberion and Aderic, Macardil suggested that he and Aderic could take turns riding Duath, and turns riding in the carriage. Macardil was not about to offer the mount Ziran had chosen to another, but he could offer his own. He wished for more time with his friend, after all - and if Aderic were to get any crazy ideas, Duath would simple throw him off her back. It seemed like a good enough solution.

---

@Rillewen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen | Tercen
The Pelennor and beyond, a carriage - January 2nd

She grunted when Gladhron said it was cold here now, but nowhere near as bad as it could be in Arnor. "Yes, they were terrible," she mumbled, acknowledging that much. "I don't know how you do it, in the winter," she added, shaking her head slightly. She'd only managed because Narsule had allowed her to lie beside him, those nights. Especially when a fire had been impossible. She had no wish to ever repeat such an experience, honestly. The fear of not waking up in the morning had not been alien to her.

"I have layers on too, but.." Arnyn smiled a little. "I suppose you're cut from different cloth," she said, finding that turn of phrase a little funny. "After all those years in a colder climate." She lowered her voice a little more. "I do not do well with the cold. I don't like winter very much. It's more of a necessary evil to get to spring," she added. Glancing at Gladhron, she raised an eyebrow. "Meanwhile you are walking out without shoes and not even bothered to come back for them. Unfathomable."

*

Tercen was in part curious when Gwestion implied he travelled with a game of chess. Apparently. But another part of him forced him to keep his eyes on the near-darkness on the other side of the windows. He was glad that Ava seemed intent on playing Gwestion - perhaps he could stay out of it altogether, and their game would last until they arrived near Ava's ship.

When Ava asked to take turns, and asked him if he would like to play the winner, Tercen debated whether to put on an easy smile and take the risk - or to play it opn and honest. He had never lied to her. Not so far. Not once. Was he about to start now? His light brown eyes flicked to Gwestion for a moment. The man was going with them to Umbar. Umbar. If they did not have enough trust between them, then...

"I would prefer," Tercen drawled as his eyes flitted between Ava and Gwestion, "to watch the two of you play. Rather than play myself." His gaze settled on the northern ranger. "I am not sure how much Arnyn might have told you or not - but we were both taught by our father. She still likes to play. Feels like it keeps his memory alive," he said, not bothering to lower his voice. If Arnyn overheard, then she overheard. He wasn't exactly spilling any secrets she would want guarded, he thought. During a moment's pause, Tercen took a deep breath. "I am different," he continued. "And find the memories too painful. Just when I play, though. You two playing isn't a problem. Honestly." He meant it, too. "It sounds like a good way to pass the time." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "Please."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
In a carriage, traveling

Gladhron glanced curiously at her at the way she said 'they were terrible'. But he didn't comment, deciding to keep that little oddity to himself to think on it. Maybe it would be useful for something later. "Cut from a different cloth," He repeated thoughtfully, then moved the reins to one hand and held up the other. Upon seeing his hand, encased in a glove, he made an expression of surprise. "I didn't know I was made of cloth, but look! Sure enough, I am." He joked, before taking the reins back in both hands with a little smile.

Shrugging, he leaned back slightly. "I do like summer best," He added, throwing a little grin her way. "But there are some benefits to winter, too." He smiled. "Snow, for instance." He grinned. "Snowball fights, especially. And the snow also makes tracking much easier," He pointed out. "Although most game animals hide away during the cold, so it doesn't actually make it much easier to hunt," He acknowledged. "Anyway, I was in a hurry," He reminded her, referring to the shoes, with a slight grin. "Couldn't let you go off meeting.. that important person.. on an empty stomach, now could I?" He reminded her, at the last moment thinking it might be best not to specifically say 'the king'.

He went silent for a little while then, thinking while he focused on keeping them going the correct way. Soon, they would reach the point where he wouldn't know quite where to go. So, he would either need to give the reins back to her, or ask her the directions. And while he disliked the whole 'asking directions' thing (after all, what man ever wants to ask directions?) it occurred to him that Arnyn was going to have to drive the carriage back. Alone. That made him think a little more, with a hint of a frown. That meant she wouldn't be able to keep her hands tucked in under her arms or something, to keep them warm. She wouldn't be able to, as easily, keep the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She wouldn't even be able to sit beside another person for warmth.

He made a decision, therefore. "You'll have to tell me where to guide him from here," He told her once they reached the point where he wasn't sure. And, upon thinking more on the last point, he shivered slightly. "You know," He glanced aside with a sheepish sort of smile, "On second thought... it does get kind of cold after a while, doesn't it? Do you think that blanket would reach around both of us?" He wondered, a little tentatively. "I mean, not to invade or anything, if you don't think it is big enough," He added. Although the blanket was plenty big enough, he felt it only polite to give her an 'out', in case she didn't want to share.


Inside the carriage, Ava glanced over at Tercen, hearing the slight hesitance in his tone when he began to reply to her. She tilted her head curiously, listening as he explained about being taught by his father. As he went on to explain about his preference to not play it, she nodded in understanding. Her thoughts flashed to what Arnyn had told her about how their parents had died. One hand silently squeezed his arm, trying to convey that she understood. She absolutely understood, and for a moment her throat felt too tight to say anything. But she nodded to show she acknowledged his preference. And she was relieved that watching others play the game wasn't going to bother him, either.

Across from them, Gwestion had gone quiet upon hearing Tercen's reply to Ava. He grew thoughtful at the mention of it being too painful for him, thinking of another person who never seemed to want to play, and yet clearly did not dislike the game. Could that be Brooke's reason for it? He pondered on that for a moment. But then, why would she have been playing the game by herself, when she thought no one saw her? That didn't quite seem to fit. He tried to put it out of his mind, for now.

Meanwhile Tercen had added that he didn't mind if Gwestion and Ava played a game. "Are you sure?" Gwestion spoke cautiously, not wishing to cause any upset to any member of their traveling party, unsure if he should begin setting up the game, or put it away. But then Tercen added 'honestly' and 'please', so Gwestion gave a small nod and took it to mean that he really did not mind.

"Alright, if you're certain it will not bother you?" Ava checked. But after being assured that it would not, she repositioned slightly, still sitting against Tercen's side, but just a little more upright than before. "Shall we?" She smiled and gave a little nod to encourage the ranger to set up the game. While she was not bored, it seemed clear that the ranger was, and so this seemed like a fair solution. She could enjoy sitting against Tercen, while giving Gwestion something to do for the remainder of their trip.

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen

Lady Ilisys Azrubêl with Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
A FLASHBACK - arriving at Harlond Harbour, 6 years ago
Looking for an Umbarian. (Continuing from Lantaelen’s post HERE)

Beneath a canopy of stars, the ‘Gaeramar’ slid into Harlond Harbour, as gentle as a sleeper is embraced by dreams. Isys stood unyielding against the second cloak of night’s dark chill, her breath frozen in throat as grey eyes roved along their quiet passage. The lady did not turn as Abrazimir found her side.

“She is not here.”

The answer to his question scarcely needed to be spoke, for there was no chance that the ‘Aracol’ could evade the scrutiny they had each committed to spy her. But the meaning of that most unwelcome truth was all too evident. The woman’s eyes closed briefly, before returning their sight to a world unchanged. A single moon-painted hand loosed her grip upon the wooden prow.


Isys had managed to subdue the concern, the urgency, the apprehension which had fluttered on occasion within her head during their cruise. Until Pelargir, at least. For their excursion had proved as swift and smooth in it’s lines as Abrazi had promised. Without alarming his crew as to the true cause for their haste, the lord had kept his vow of secrecy for the lady’s true ambition. His easy crowd-pleasing charisma and contagious fervour for their trek had caused the lady to forget at times, that she truly was not come along, merely to enjoy the spray of salt on her face, and the sight of the ocean parting before them. And then her kinsman would make with pensive enquiries over a nerve-numbing glass of wine, which aided her to consider all else she may not have put mind to, without his influence.

But if the Azrubêl warship which they pursued had hugged the coast and snaked up the Anduin, as it had been scheduled to, there was no means by which they could not have come upon her by now. And yet .. there was no sign to be found.


When they had briefly took pause in Pelargir to made with enquiries, under the guise of the lady wishing to ‘shop’ .. she had been assured that a great Belfalasian warship had passed thorough, albeit taking a path downriver and out to sea. If there had been time to wait for the relevant officials, then some note might have been uncovered, from the night watchmen, to learn when that same ship had took up toward Harlond, most likely under the cover of darkness, if none had marked her gargantuan presence. But since the vessel had not made berth at the river city in either direction, there was no clear confirmation to be found there, that it had even been the ‘Aracol’. What was more, the dates did not work with those which Isys’s informant had told her. She could think of no cause why Hollin might have misled her about when the ‘Aracol departed Dol Amroth; save to give the Burned Man a headstart, which she reasoned could not be the case. After all, why would a man who had been so wronged by Umbar do any favour for that realm ?

Her misgivings she had shared of course with Abrazi, and together they had decreed that there was no option but to press on, albeit with slightly jaded hopes from that point. And now it seemed that their worst fears were confirmed. Their quarry had either evaded every plausible but assured observation, or else it had not come inland at all. But then, where else would it have gone ? With a suspected Umbarian aboard, the options did not bode well. Yet .. that too bred confusion.


“A single Umbarian, particularly one lamed over much of his stature by burn scars, could not have overcome an entire crew. An entire Lond Col crew,” Isys had troubled, bewildered. When she had shared her thoughts with the one soul aboard who was aware of their any quarry. The notion of the suspect ‘Mudron’ heading home to foreign waters with his prize, was all too apparent as a motive. But the machinations of such a goal simply did not work. How could the man have ever accomplished such a thing ?

“Alas the sun might rouse the Harbour Master with more kindness than my need,” she confessed the first slivers of intention toward Abrazi, the sight of the still slumbering settlement apparently dissuading her not at all. “You were due to deliver messages at Harlond for your father,” she recalled their alibi then, as the list of deeds now to be managed swelled, causing her skull to ache from all that refused to still within. If the suspect was an Umbarian and he had - somehow - took their ship home with him for a prize … they would now need to obtain supplies enough to make chase, .. she thought without mentioning aloud. For first they would need to decide. Whether to turn for home or commit proper to the expedition. The crew of the ‘Gaeramar’ would have to be consulted even if their Commander even was prepared to head unto enemy waters. It was more than she had any right to ask of any of them, and it was not what any of them had anticipated. But whatever she had feared they might find, not finding the ‘Aracol’ at all had not been it. In any case, it would be several hours before they might leave Harlond now, regardless of intention.


A chill breeze stole the woman’s gathered hood, so that tendrils of dark hair spilt like banners of seaweed out from her placid expression. Still words tumbled in Sindarin, a plea for mercy and aid from the nautical Valar, from numbed lips. “Arphen en-Aearon, no veren, govaned 'lass ammen.”

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen | Tercen
Beyond the Pelennor, heading for water, a carriage - January 2nd

Arnyn rolled her eyes at Gladhron's joke, which, honestly, could have been better. But with the blanket finally warming around her, she didn't care. It didn't so much surprise as interest her when her friend claimed he liked summer best. Before pointing out the fun of winter. A little smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "Snowball fights are great - for about half an hour," she determined. "Then I'm just about ready for a warm drink and a fire." She didn't care if that made her sound like a luxury princess. Not in front of Gladhron and Gwestion, who were not under her command. Not in front of Tercen, whom Arnyn knew felt the same way. Not in front of Ava, either - what did it matter what the women knew of her dislike for cold, when Umbar was even warmer than Gondor?

At his question about letting her go to a meeting without eating, she raised an eyebrow. "You could have," she disagreed. "More like, you did not want to."

They both fell silent then, until Gladhron indicated she'd need to help him with some directions. "I can take over again," she offered, but that didn't seem to be what h was after, for he all but ignored those words. "Or," she drawled that one word, and then told him which road to follow. And later, which path to take.

Arnyn chuckled when Gladhron finally admitting to getting cold himself, and asking about the blanket. Invade? As if there was any way she'd refuse a friend the warmth of a blanket when it was large enough for both of them. "Well well," she teased, "I never expected Mr. I'm-used-to-much-worse-than-this admitting the mild southern climate is still capable of chilling his bones." Amused, she readjusted the blanket around herself and shifted closer to Gladhron to drape it over his back and his shoulder that was furthest away. He'd still have to fix it on that side a little, she imagined, but at least it wasn't slipping off him.

After that, they felll into a comfortable silence, only interrupted by Arnyn directing Gladhron to alter the course of the carriage when necessary.

*

Tercen hadn't been surrpised by partially having to convince them he was fine with them playing a game - or two. Even if he would not partake. When Ava and Gwestion were convinced of his honesty, Gwestion set up the game, and they started playing.

His attention shifted between the world beyond the carriage and the game, for it seemed that even the conversation up front, on the drivers' seat, had fallen silent. While Tercen could imagine Arnyn quietly sitting there, driving, he had some trouble imagining Gladhron doing the same. Perhaps he had fallen asleep or something. Time seemed to move fast during Ava and Gwestion's playing, however - for the carriage drew to a halt before he figured it would be time.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Unalmis Raxëlilta, with Xyler and Hadassa
Out in the Pelennor Fields, Dec 30th

Unalmis had met Hadassa’s chuckle with a grin, as the young woman recognised their little woodwork project. “Meal might burn yet,” he admitted though, with an eye cast back toward the covered bucket of vegetables. “We’ll have to cook it to find out.” Half the reason why he had not set the food to cooking yet was because attending to that, and to the burn bowls and the conversation all at once .. well, it would not be the first time he had burned a meal by getting distracted. Hadassa claimed to have no secret that was relevant meanwhile, which earned her a rise of one of the Ranger’s eyebrows. Perhaps she had secrets then which she felt were ‘irrelevant’ ? But it would be rude to press, particularly after she had vowed to keep theirs quiet. And not only because he thought he might have guessed the secret neither one of them was telling him, or perhaps each other.

Neither of the Rohirrim seemed to think that this ‘Melahny’ acquaintance was the woman he was looking for. Although the notion that somebody would dye their hair, for a masquerade .. was clearly something which the young man had not considered.

“But if she had dyed her hair to have it look so dark, she wouldn’t be posing as a typical Rohir, really. Unless .. wait. Are you saying that she might have faked the accent as well ? Or instead ?” Unalmis sat back, utterly flummoxed by the idea. That people would take a party costume so seriously. Which perhaps made clear he did not frequent such events. His sisters had not changed their hair, nor his brother, or any other of his relatives that he knew had attended. All had worn masks, obviously. And Gael had made a good job of the gold dusting she’d painted her face with. But that was .. well, she’d wanted to just for one night not be the woman with the tattoos. She had not wanted anyone to know that it was her, and .. A sinking feeling began to settle in the pit of the young man’s stomach, as it dawned on him that yes. A person attending a masquerade could and maybe would then .. adopt any number of ways to disguise themselves, if they were so intent on doing so. That was the whole point of the thing, although he had never considered it so seriously himself. And the fact that his mystery ‘quest’ had gone so far to cover her entire face in a floral put up as well as her mask … His face fell in some despair, despite the clear, if slow, progress that his burn bowl was making. “That leaves me back to only the necklace that she left behind, to find her,” he sighed. Without realising that he had not mentioned the piece of jewellery to these friends before now.


Any hope that Xyler’s mystery might prove easier to unravel was hit by the revelation, that the blonde youth was seeking for his mother. A more delicate subject then, and one none of those present would count as a strange phenomenon. Brown eyes flickered from the Healer to the Rider, as the Gondorian considered the query now with a new understanding.

“Searching for a particular Gondorian … in Gondor .. does sound like a rather difficult trial,” he was forced to concede, and did so slowly, around attending to his small log blaze. A Gondorian in Rohan on the other hand might stick out as rare as a Rohir in Gondor. “Do you know her name, or something, .. maybe that your grandmother told you ?” he wondered aloud. “Like how did she even end up in Rohan in the first place, just for example ? Did she meet your father here, or there ? She might be the daughter of a diplomat, or a messenger or something. Sometimes the why leads to the how and where.” And now he was beginning to speak like Isys. Fantastic.


The notion of hoping to find a parent .. it made him think of Trevadir, and how he’d always yearned for his father. And how that had turned out. Terribly. And although he did not try to pointedly seek out Hadassa’s expression, he recalled her telling them also, at the Spring Festival, that she had literally been abandoned, by Dunlending parents, at a Rohan village.

It was tempting then, to advise Xyler against wasting his time, although he could not make himself speak such words aloud. “I noticed,” he remarked instead, eager for the subject change as his friend mentioned dancing with Hadassa at the masquerade. For most of the night .. “Didn’t realise I was in the presence of such keen dancers. What did you make of it ? The masquerade ?”

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion

Xyler
Pelennor Fields, Dec 30th

"Should I cook the food?" Xyler asked jokingly, with feigned concern when Nal spoke of possibly burning it. "Although.. I thought it was already cooked. Didn't you say that the old couple gave you stew? Or.. do you just mean that it still has to be warmed up?" He figured maybe he was thinking a little too literally.

As for the possibility that someone had dyed their hair, Xyler thought about that. "I'm not really sure how one goes about dying their hair," He admitted. "But, wouldn't it still be dyed, if they had done that? So, then you'd need to look for someone with dark hair, right?" Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded. Look for a dark-haired person, in Gondor, where the majority of people are dark-haired. "Right.. nevermind that." He gave a little laugh at himself, shaking his head at the silly comment.

His friend seemed to become a bit astonished at the thought of people dying hair and faking accents. Xyler rolled his log slightly back and forth to make the ember move a little. "So, how much of an accent did this girl have?" He wondered. "I mean.. was it a thick accent, or was it a mild one?" He asked. He liked to think that his own accent wasn't terribly strong, since he had grown up so near the Gondor border, and his grandmother had made sure he learned Common, and he'd had plenty of dealings with travelers. Ironically, Hadassa's accent was stronger than Xyler's, so that made him curious about this "other Rohir". "But I do happen to know that some people definitely went all-out in the disguise thing," He added. "There was even one woman who had black lips," He laughed, finding that to be a bit odd.

He was curious about the mentioned necklace, however. "You have a necklace that belongs to her?" He asked, curious. "Do you think it's something that would mean something to her?" He wondered. "Because.. if she hasn't already left town - cause, you know, a lot of people came from out of town and have already left, but if she hasn't - maybe you could put up a poster or something, to say you've found a piece of jewelry, and would like to get it back to its owner.. and leave a way to contact you. But they have to provide the accurate description." He hoped he had made his thought clear enough. "Otherwise, you could have anyone show up claiming they lost it, and really they just want to sell it or whatever." He shrugged.

As his friend pointed out the absurdity of trying to find a particular Gondorian in Gondor, Xyler sighed softly and shook his head. "It's.. well, I'm not exactly trying to find her," He tried to explain, a little awkwardly. "I mean, I'm... fairly sure that she's probably dead, or.. I don't know," He shrugged. "But I thought, if I could at least maybe figure out what part of Gondor she came from, maybe I could find some relatives, or.. something." He muttered, not sure if this was all rather silly.

He wasn't sure if any of Nal's questions would help, but he was glad that he wasn't telling him how stupid the whole thing was. So, he drew a deep breath and looked up again from his burn bowl. "I remember practically nothing about her," He shrugged. "Grandma said her name was Elspeth," He was glad that he could at least provide that much. "Is that a common name for Gondor?" He hoped it wasn't. Maybe that would be a clue? He frowned thoughtfully and took a moment to collect whatever memories he could, of the things his grandmother had told him.

"She met my father in Rohan," He answered one of the other questions. "And she definitely wasn't rich," he added with certainty. "Grandma always thought maybe she was a runaway, or something like that." He frowned. "Grandma said something about her made her feel that my mother was afraid, but since there was also a lot of trouble going on during that time.. and my father had just died, it's hard to say what she might have been frightened about." He shrugged at the answers he did not have. "I was eighteen months, she said. A year and a half old. And Grandma mentioned once that she thought my mother might've been a city girl, if that helps anything?"

As the subject shifted back to the masquerade, and Nal having noticed them spending the evening with one another, Xyler felt a bit of a blush coming on, but hopefully it wasn't noticeable. With a little laugh at the end of Nal's comment, Xyler shook his head slightly. "We're trying to learn how." He shrugged. "Hadassa has suggested we open a dancing school back home," He added with a teasing grin toward her. "And I suggested we could have the lessons in a barn floor, and I think there was something mentioned then about teaching horses to dance..?" He tried to remember all of what they'd spoken of, while grinning slightly.

---

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
In a carriage, traveling

The journey was lengthy, but sitting beside Arnyn, Gladhron didn't mind. He wasn't exactly comfortable on the seat, in the cold, but it was more comfortable once she wrapped the blanket around him as well. Besides, from the sound of things inside the carriage, they'd begun playing a game of chess. Of course, if he had chosen to sit inside, he would've probably made the trip more fun for Tercen than watching a game of chess. And, while he would have been more comfortable if he'd sat inside, he wouldn't change his choice to sit here with her.

At last, they arrived at the designated spot. He stopped the carriage, and everyone was soon back on the ground. The ship Ava had spoken of had sailed so far up the Anduin before pulling into a large stream that flowed into the river. They had gone just far enough to be out of sight from anyone sailing up or down the Anduin, and thus had remained mostly out of sight while Ava was off in Minas Tirith.

The captain and crew had been expecting Ava for the last couple of days already, since she had not been able to send word in advance of when she was coming. Fortunately, the captain had enough forethought to have already prepared the ship for the journey, knowing that when she did come, by this time she'd probably be in haste.

After making all necessary introductions between Captain Daamri and the others, Ava instructed that they allow Arnyn to make as lengthy an inspection of the ship as she felt necessary, while the crew waited on shore. When Arnyn was satisfied, Ava asked if she could speak to her for a moment in private, as there was something she had never got around to talking to her about. Meanwhile, the men remained on shore, letting the two women talk in private.

Once they had covered everything they both could think of to discuss, they rejoined the others. Finally, once all those things were done and satisfied, it was time for goodbyes. Gladhron found it quite difficult to say goodbye to Arnyn, but he tried to console himself with the knowledge that he knew where to find her, now. And that he would be seeing her again soon. In a few weeks. It wasn't like last time, when she was leaving and they had no idea where she lived, or if she'd ever be back. He was careful not to get too emotional about telling her goodbye, and he made a few jokes to try and ease the mood, before giving her a brief hug and went on board the ship.

Gwestion found it easier to say goodbye to her, since they would be seeing her again soon.. if nothing went wrong. Still, he quietly promised to do his best to keep Gladhron in line. With a faint smile that suggested he might have made a joke, he went aboard the ship and left Tercen to say goodbye to his sister more privately. Ava was already aboard the ship, having said her brief farewells to the lieutenant when they spoke in private.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen | Tercen
Beyond the Pelennor, heading for water, a carriage - January 2nd

Her inspection was lengthy. So was her conversation with Captain Daamri, as she weighed his words, and what she could tell from his character and his intentions. None of it was, however, any guarantee. And Arnyn did not feel better, not really, after her efforts.

When Ava asked to speak with her a ways removed from the others, the Lieutenant nodded. There were a few things she had thought to tell and ask Ava still, as well. The ride over here had given her thoughts some more time to wonder - and she wasn't about to let this opportunity slide. It would be the last time in weeks she'd be able to speak to Ava. If she'd ever speak to her again, at all, a little voice whispered to her. But Arnyn shut that down, fast. Such thoughts would no one any good, now. Bidding Ava farewell was always going to be professional, and so it was.

She'd intended to keep the other goodbyes brief as well - which wasn't much of a problem, as it turned out.

Saying goodbye to Gladhron involved an eyeroll by the time of his second joke. Arnyn was serious when she warned him to be careful, however. And she tried to stress the importance, once more, of not leting that mouth of his get them in trouble. She returned the quick hug he gave her - and it was easier than she'd expected to slip something small and weightless into the right pocket of his cloak as her hand brushed past.

Despite Gwestion's hint at a smile when it was his turn, Arnyn couldn't find it in her to smile back. She asked him to watch his back as well as the two idiots who were tagging along with him, but that was all the jesting she had in her, and she could not hide that the words came more from a place of concern, rather than humour.

Her moment with Tercen was the longest. When he came up to her, his face bore a strange little smile. When she asked him about it, he shook his head. "I never expected that I'd be the one going somewhere dangerous, while you have to stay behind and worry," he explained a little sadly. Arnyn's eyes widened slightly at his words. Tercen shrugged. "Guess now you know how it feels."
That stung. Arnyn frowned as her eyes fell, but the next moment Tercen wrapped his arms around her without any hint of reservation. "I'll be alright, sis," he promised her, his tone surprisingly gentle. "And before you know it, you will be right there with me. Alright?"
Arnyn drew in a deep breath as her arms clung to her brother, drawing out the physical contact. Would it be the last time? If Ava.... And despite all the things she had thought about to say, earlier, what was foremost on her mind ended up being the only words she had for him, now. "I love you, brother. Please... don't die."
Tercn's arms tightened around her. "Love you too. And I won't, I promise," he promised something he had no way to fully control. When the two siblings broke apart, neither of them bothered to wipe at their eyes, and Tercen didn't make it any harder on either of them by promptly boarding the ship.

Arnyn's indrawn breath was shaky as she watched the ship's crew making their final preparations. She drew close to Nársulë, and lingered until the vessel actually set sail. Only then did the Lieutenant climb aboard the carriage, and began her long and lonely return to the White City.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Pharak Halsad, with a now unconscious Unalmis.
Courtesy of / reuniting with the ever surprising ’Nâluthor’.
At the Chandlery, in Harlond. FLASHBACK - Six years ago approx.

The impulsive act of violence was coupled with a clear disregard for consequence. The Burned Man’s smile then, though it might not usher in joy to any who beheld it, was sincere in expressing the Umbarian’s pleasure. Regardless of the young man’s arrogant assumptions, that he had been forced to step in and save the day. For there had of course been a plan in motion. Which was not to say that the surprising intervention had just scuppered Pharak’s own designs. On the contrary, he counted himself as a man adept in adjusting accordingly. And he viewed his new acquaintance as an ever more intriguing tool. There was something primal and ashamed which spoke to him of potential here. And it just kept coming ..

The Burned Man’s hand struck three times in a loud tap against the wooden counter top, as he considered their situation. “How very expedient of you, Nâluthor,” he noted, not unimpressed, albeit in his native accent now. A larger man filled the doorway at the bottom of a staircase, apparently in answer to the unspoken summons. But this ‘Chandler’ caught the use of the Gondorian’s given name, and did not move against Mar.


“Bar Halsad,” the help uttered, looking instead in deference toward the gnarled Umbarian. And their newest recruit was treated to a further exhibit of Adunaic when Pharak bade the employee to ‘have the door. Take guard’ in that now ancient tongue. The tall man required no further instruction to stride past the mess on the floor, and it’s instigator, to lock the front door. While the Burned Man clasped his hands together.

“Have that up off the floor for me ?” he suggested toward Mar, in far less of a question than it might sound, to an innocent. “The seal ..” he clarified, recalling his new friend’s proclivity for heaving unconscious bodies about. And one hand turned it’s palm up, to await satisfaction of an offering.


“You owe me something also,” he reminded the ‘Chandler’, in a side but also a subtle forewarn to Nâluthor, that the help here comprehended Westron.

“Lord Halsad” the false shop keeper agreed with a nod, and a reply equally in the common speech this time. “I did not wish for it to become damaged if there was a .. scuffle.” The explanation met no response, and the ensuing silence encouraged the large man to hasten in doing as he’d been told. With another duck of his chin, he then returned up the stair case to retrieve what clearly had been expected.

“That would have been an inconvenience,” the Umbarian agreed. “But this ?” he turned back to his remaining company. “What a reassurance that I have the correct cargo,” the Burned Man chuckled, addressing Mar. He slowly circled a felled Unalmis, stepping over a sprawled leg at one point. “Although the familial resemblance can neither be denied,” he amused himself by gazing down at the felled young man, less than a day since he and young Nâluthor, had found themselves faced with looking down at the same unfortunate’s recently felled father. “And your enthusiasm it would appear has not abated,” he observed.


A slow descent brought the ‘Chandler’ back downstairs, in far less of a thunderous footstorm of an entrance than his last. The cause perhaps embodied in the gourd which he carried, and presented with a head bowed anew, to Pharak. The Burned Man turned and accepted the offering without voicing thanks, patting it into as firm a grasp as he could manage. “I could not risk your city guards confiscating this as an oddity at the gate,” he confided to Mar. “But now ..” A bent finger which looked like the flesh had been melted, and then hard-dried, in an unwholesome new nobbled state .. struck gently in thought against the Umbarian’s hairless chin. “Do we have any damage ?” he glanced from his help, to the unconscious Gondorian, and back again. So that the ‘Chandler’ hastily fell to a stoop and checked Nal for a pulse. “The head ..” Pharak urged him with a clear distaste for being forced to do so; and then waited until his help had rifled through dark hair and found .. something enough to make him pause his fingers. A sharper eyed inspection though brought both of them relief.

“Superficial,” the man confirmed, returning to his full height.


“I was going to walk our friend here onto the ship I have waiting, in excitement of it being one he’d wish to explore ..” the Umbarian disclosed further of his now abandoned plan, to it’s destroyer. “Hence the seal. And only then ..” Pharak patted the gourd held against his chest, as though it was his own child. But he explained no further. They would have to find another way. A malignant gleam lit in the Burned Man’s only seeing eye as he struck on a new plan. “See my purchase here boxed up, would you ?” He turned expectantly toward the unnamed ‘Chandler’. “We can mark the exterior with the seal .. and then that old fool Captain will never dare open his Master’s private property. You will see it transported to the ship’s hold,” he assigned his help a new chore.

“Are you readied ?” the Burned Man turned his attention onto young Nâluthor then, making clear his search for any luggage or else possessions the Gondorian had seen fit to bring with him. “No no,” he was forced to complain at the ‘Chandler’s noisy efforts. “One with a peep, although we can load it with that keelside so it is not observed,” he furthered his instructions and left the help glancing about him to comply with what he might find. “You can help me set it right about, when we are safe aboard,” he informed his new acquaintance. That he was expecting the young man to come aboard a ship with him. And from there .. ?


“But first. How is your penmanship ?” he asked Mar and unfurled his own free hand, with it’s flesh white, taut in places, and uneven over all. The Umbarian’s tendons looked like they had tried to rear up through the flesh, with an ungainly lumpy surface as result. The delicacy of writing anything that ought be read seemed unlikely to be within his grasp. “A headstart would be advantageous but I do not believe that one is literate,” he muttered between them only, with a rude tilt of the head toward the lumbering ‘Chandler’ who had returned from his stock room and was now measuring Unalmis with his hands, against the length of the crate meant to conceal him. “I require a message delivered to his family, to let them know he’s safe here with his Uncle and they will both return to the city once we have convinced Domanol to come home. It does not matter if the writing does not seem as his own. I can have a messenger learn the contents and run up to the city to report it to them,” he assured the Gondorian, with all the confidence of a man who had seen such a thing accomplished before now.

He had not trusted a Gondorian with his plans before now though. Pharak waited, to see if this one, this Nâluthor, would continue to surprise him, and how. Even as the ‘chandler’ glanced up, first to the locked door, and then began to size up Mar himself. It was in the hands of Zigur indeed. They trusted their almighty leader, and his designs. And he had clearly sent them this .. against all odds. For a reason. It was not their place to argue then, but to merely stand witness of how keen the delivered weapon would prove.

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen

Addhor Raxëlilta and Guard Thorledhos Darthor
encountering Lady Ilisys Azrubêl, at Harlond Harbour
Looking for a Burned Man. Some days later. (still 6 years ago – FLASHBACK)

“Thank you for coming with me,” Addhor was of course grateful for the Guard’s kind offer of a ride. As much as he was begrudging of having to come all the way out here at all.

“It’s no problem,” the driver assured him. “I doubt there is anyone as keen to find and drag your brother home. Besides yourself of course,” Thorley tacked on the last, a little belatedly, and earned himself no response from his passenger. “I can hardly believe ..” he began to admit his relief.

“It is .. truly unbelievable,” the woodworker agreed, with no more hint of whether he was glad or not. To have learnt the news of Domanol’s apparent return from lands afar .. to have awaited for Unalmis to come good on his promise to fetch his uncle home from the harbour .. It had been too long for either instance, let alone the two together. And when it came to those two members of his kin .. together .. there was really no end of possibilities what might have delayed them so heedlessly.


“Where did he say they were staying ?” the Guard changed the subject to rather more practical concerns. Thorley knew that a Guard had come to check, and had found no sign of their missing. That was why he had resolved to come now himself, on his day off. His comrades had thus written it off as a prank by now. There had been talk of action against wasting Guard time, in fact. But the rest of the Guard were not friends of the family. So on his next scheduled day off, he had borrowed the transport and agreed to bring the boy's father out to look.

“The Heron ?” Addhor’s uncertainty betrayed his unfamiliarity with the locale.

“I know just where that is,” Thorley declared, unsurprisingly since he had been raised in Harlond. His father had been a customs official for years here, raising his family in Harlond before eventually retiring. This was home for Thorley and it never seemed to change. In a very small amount of time their ride came to a conclusion, and the named public house rose up with no more reason to delay. It was the only clue they had to start with. “Do you want me to come in with you ?” the Guard asked, as he helped his friend to find the street and then turned back to untangle the horse’s reins. But no answer led him to find the other man already heading on inside. With a shake of his head, Thorley relaxed his stance and fought against the temptation to spy through the window. Until a cry of ‘Oi ! You can’t hold that here .. blocking all the traffic ..’ stole his attention. And so began a charged debate about the needs and rights of City guards outside their jurisdiction.

---

Isys had been reassured by Abrazimir that he could handle all of the ship’s needs while they were docked in Harlond. And since the Harbour Master had confirmed that the ‘Aracol’ had made berth and then departed some days hence; more days than she had been led to believe they had spent in chase of her .. the lady had opted for a walk to clear her head. Her kinsman’s enquiries about whether Hollin could have misled them were now a nagging fray of annoyance which she could not dispel. Perhaps, she had considered, perhaps her friend had been mistaken, perhaps his belated education had affected his ability to count … but ..no, the lord was a certified appraiser. So that last seemed most unlikely. Maybe then the trauma of the Umbarian factor. If he had been traumatised or thrown off by observing a man he’d known in that cruel land .. come so unexpectedly to his refuge in Dol Amroth .. maybe he had panicked. But try as she might, she could not reconcile the facts with her feelings. And she had been forced to do all she could in the small time allowed, to attempt recompense. Walking helped.

At the end of the day of course, it did not make a difference. The ‘Aracol’ and her entire crew were potentially endangered. Resolving that was more important right now than assigning blame. There would undoubtedly be time for that later, if they all survived to see a later. Although .. if they never came back ... She could not leave this in the air. She could leave word at Pelargir ? Yes, she would send a letter home. Just in case. She had no doubt whatsoever that Warder could be entirely trusted.


Her hunt for a ‘burned man’ in the meantime had led her quite around in circles. 'Mudron's description had been observed in many an inn although some said he had been alone and others were adamant he’d been in the company of a young man; one whose description she did not recognise. The most telling clues were that he had absolutely left with the ‘Aracol’ as had .. a young man. Also that he had ventured into the city proper. The Gate Guards were not only convinced but showed her written notes that they had marked him, and his unique appearance. So what had he gone into Minas Tirith for ?

With nothing but a short amount of time to torment her uncertainty, the lady had hired a carriage to make the trip to Minas Tirith while Abrazi tended to his father’s matters. The guards at the Front Gate had been glad to make acquaintance of a Swan Knight and invited her to bring her kinsman and their company into the White City, for a proper tour. It would have to wait. In the end she went only as far as the First Circle, since the Great Gate guards had written that a burned man had come seeking to visit the ‘Raxelilta' family. He had left the next day, in company of a young man .. But the Guard who had actually spoken to the Burned Man on his arrival at the city .. was off duty this day. And there was nobody at home at the house she was directed toward either.


With nothing but a growing unease to keep her company, Isys returned to Harlond, meaning to head back toward the ‘Gaeramar’. Abrazimir had vowed that they would make decision on reunion, with what information they had been able to find. She happened upon Thorley first by chance, as he attended his horses at the small livery, and she returned her hire. When she asked how he had borrowed a City guard transport, and he heard she was seeking for a burned man, the two grew substantially more interested in what each other might be able to offer. Together they found a despairing Addhor at the ‘Heron’ inn, where staff had said that no burned man had been there, nor a young man stayed in company of anybody meeting the description he gave. It took little time for the three investigators to come to a closeted debate within the livery stable, of whether/how they might at all help each other.


“You can not just go sailing off on a maybe though,” the Guard did his best to dissuade the former Ranger. “Be serious for a moment, Add.”

“He’s taken my son,” the woodworker returned, convinced, as though that cancelled all better judgement.

“You don’t know for sure,” Thorley tried again. For common sense. For reason. “What if we try speaking to Trevadir again. Perhaps this is still all an alibi, for some daft ..Well, you know what those fool children are like. It would not be the first time ..”

“Trevadir does not know where he is,” Addhor said, not for the first time. "I believe him."

“This morning you did not know Trevadir’s name ..” his friend reminded him, more quietly. And Ilisys glanced from one to the other. “Admittedly the boy seemed truthful. But still .. what if ..?”

“There is no ‘what if’,” the father had been sobering up more and more since his son and brother had been said to be .. in Harlond. Maybe preserving his resources for when he might need to drink deep. If he had to face them .. returned .. But to face the prospect of neither of them ever returning .. ever ?


“The Burned Man has took more than three score sons of Lond Col,” Isys put in, without meeting either of their faces. “If he truly is affiliated with Halsad ..” she frowned to have to rely on what Hollin had told her. And some more for finding herself doing so. “He asked at the gate here specifically for Raxelilta,” she concluded her findings. “The current Lord of Lond Col has wed a woman of the Raxelilta line. Your cousin in fact. I do not deem it like to be some mere coincidence.”

"You need to wait. Let me put in a report so that it can be properly looked into. I mean ... What is the alternative ?" Thorley continued to find fault in their thinking. "You haven't anything of what you may need with you. You can not just run off like .. " Like your brother, the Guard finished privately in his head. Or your son for that matter ... This was so not a good idea.

“I know what I am doing," Addhor sought to convince them and himself. "I was a Ranger .." he tried. And noted that Isys at least looked pleased to hear that.

"That was more than ten years ago. And before .." he was countered by Thorley all the same. But obstinacy was as much a family trait as impatience, apparently.

"I do not know what my brother has gotten mixed up with,” Addhor confessed. “Nor how this ‘Halsad’ if that is what he is, knows anything about him. I only know my brother did not come home. Now my son .. ” Dark eyes closed and the man’s grip tightened around his walking stick. “I can not .. not bring my son home. If it be the last thing I do in this world.” Thorley found his feet and no will to argue any longer with either the obstinate man or the odd lady. “I must ask you to let my mother know what has happened,” Addhor begged of the guard, turning only at the last to meet Thorley's eyes and infer that he meant him.

“We do not know for sure what even has happened !” the official protested. “And you know the grief caused since your brother did not return, but ask me to break the news all the same, that you and Unalmis may now both be gone as well ?”

“We both know I shall wear you down eventually but there is no time, friend,” Addhor took a deep sigh and met no argument. Because really, both men knew he was right. At least about that much.

“You may come a-ship if my Kinsman agrees,” Ilisys warned the former Ranger. “The vessel is his command. His say. But I should imagine that at least you ought tell us as much as you know, about where your brother went, and what exactly this burned man said when he visited your home. We can ill afford to waste time by delaying, but we may hear the account even as we cruise downriver. We can set you safely back at dock in Pelargir ..” she started, and caught the look in the man’s eyes. Rheumy. And his walking stick … was there really a former Ranger somewhere in the tired mess the man had fallen to ? For years now. “I can not allow you to delay us ..” she made clear, her statement both determined and understanding. “Even if the telling takes all the time to get out to Umbar. If we say you stay a-ship, when we set foot there, then stay you must.”

“I will do what I must, and what I can,” Addhor concluded, his own interpretation of her instructions. “If I hold you back, leave me behind. Even if my broken body serves to trip up your pursuit, I can help. There must be some way, anything I can do. I can not lose him too.”

As Isys nodded a wary assent, Thorley shook his head in despair and set back for the city to break the sorry news .. of still great uncertainty to Odessa. There were swan knights going, he told himself. That was not nothing, not by half ! And so Ilisys was allowed to lead Addhor to find Abrazi and the ‘Gaeramar’. And whatever might then come of that meeting.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Ademar (Aka Nâluthor)
Harlond, the Chandlery
About 6 years ago

Watching his new ally, Mar was intrigued by the way he tapped on the counter. That seemed more like the kind of thing you do deliberately, rather than as an absent action you do without thinking. But the most surprising thing was when he spoke. His accent had changed, and Mar had never heard that one before.

Before Mar could express curiosity about this change in his voice, another, larger person appeared from another hallway which he had not before noticed. The young man looked at this new guy for a moment, then returned his gaze to the one who called him Nâluthor. Which he still did not know what meant. His intrigue grew stronger as he heard the next words out of the scarred man's mouth. He had no idea what he said, but it seemed to him that it sounded like the same language as 'Naluthor'. How interesting. He watched the big guy begin to move in response to the instructions. Toward... him?

Mar turned his head to look over his shoulder, keeping his gaze on the man as he walked past him. To stand by the door, behind Mar. What was that about? Was it because Mar had pointed out the lack of security there? Some people might have begun to worry that he had walked into a trap, or that he had ended up in a bad situation. But Mar was a bit too curious about everything to believe that anything bad was going to happen to him. Maybe arrogance had something to do with it, too.

His acquaintance spoke again, this time in Westron. So, he must be speaking to Mar, now. Right? Mar turned his gaze back to him, then dropped to the floor. Have what off the floor? Nal? But before he had much time for pondering on it, before he explained. Oh, the seal. Mar glanced back at the guy behind him before turning to regard the hand held out toward him, ready to receive the item. Mar hadn't even considered the seal to be anything worth noticing, until now. Picking it up, he turned it over in curiosity, looking it over as he approached the man covered in burn scars. "What's it for?" He wondered, trying to understand quite what was going on here, while setting the candlestick back down on the shelf, where he'd found it.

As the other man spoke to the other guy again, this time in Westron, Mar listened curiously to the reply. And to the man's accent. And to what the new man had called his new friend. Halsad. Interesting. First, he'd called him Bar Halsad, and now, Lord Halsad. Mar took mental note of that name, for now he had something to call the guy. But.. Lord? He found that very interesting. Particularly because he had learned a good deal about nobility in the past couple of years, after spending time around a nobleman's son, who had become friends with Ric. And he'd never heard that name before. Which told him that this guy was not any lord of Belfalas, as his first accent might have suggested. Remembering some of the things that had come up during their talking last night, Mar began feeling pretty sure that this guy was definitely not from Gondor.

While he was thinking about all of that, the other guy went off upstairs to retrieve whatever it was that he owed Lord Halsad. Mar turned to him, then, while the man began circling the unconscious nuisance on the floor. Mar smiled in shared amusement as he caught the joke about the 'resemblance' between father and son; both lying unconscious on the floor. At the mention of his enthusiasm, Mar's smile grew a little. "Not in the least." He assured him. "I've hardly even slept, I've been so eager to see what you're going to do to him." He added, with a kick aimed at Nal's nearby foot.

He turned then to see what the other guy had brought, and he was puzzled to see.. a gourd? He glanced quizzically at Halsad, then back to the other guy. What could be so important about a gourd? They weren't even very useful vegetables, in Mar's opinion. But he was holding it like it was the Crown of Gondor, or something of equal importance. "Why would the guards confiscate a vegetable?" Mar wondered, puzzled as he tried to imagine what could be the significance of the thing. Unless... perhaps he had something else smuggled inside it? The thought of that was intriguing.

But Halsad's attention had shifted to other man, now. Mar stepped aside while the man checked on Nal, to find out if he was harmed. And there seemed to be some tension about that. He felt confusion about this. Who cared if he was damaged? He didn't get why that would be a big deal. They were going to kill him, weren't they? Mar was turning toward his friend to ask, when he began to explain. Almost as if he knew that Mar was about to ask. He listened as he heard what the plan had been, before Mar stepped in. "Ah.." Mar did not offer any apology for having disrupted the intended plan. It was not really his way to do that, but he did acknowledge the fact that he had caused that plan to have to be altered. But that still did not explain what was in the gourd. Mar eyed it curiously as Halsad patted it, as if it were something precious. Or, perhaps, contained something precious. But he spoke as if it might contain a weapon of some sort, rather than a treasure.

He remained quietly puzzling over this while the other two spoke about packaging up his 'purchase' and how the seal was to be used. While he was still feeling a bit confused by so much that he did not understand, Mar also recognized that he was being allowed to know this much of the plan. And for that, given the nefarious nature of all of this, he suspected that he had good cause to feel honored. Or perhaps nervous, but he chose the former. Because there had been a connection between himself and this scarred man, last night. There was a sort of mutual connection between them that he couldn't really explain, but which he had never felt with anyone else before. So, while it might seem idiotic for him to still go along on this journey, after hearing that he'd planned to trick Nal into walking gullibly on board a ship with him, Mar disregarded any doubts about his own safety. He would be perfectly fine. They were going to help each other achieve vengeance against the Raxelilta idiots, so he had no reason to worry.

But, hearing Halsad ask if he was ready, and pointedly looking around, Mar realized he'd left his things outside. But he paused in answering, as his friend suddenly had to divert his attention toward correcting the other guy, for a moment. Mar waited until he had turned back to him again. "I was here early because I stayed at an inn for the night and spent the morning exploring around." He explained. "Then, I saw you from the window, with him," He nodded toward Unalmis, "and I followed. Because I was curious, and because I didn't want to miss out on.. the fun." he admitted with a little smile.

The question about his penmanship surprised him, and distracted him from adding that his things were right outside this place. He looked at the open hand that would likely make most people shudder, then looked questioningly at his face. "My penmanship is excellent," He answered, speaking a little slowly as he tried to understand why that should make any difference. But as the man's devious plan began to unfurl, Mar's expression changed from puzzled to appreciative. He grinned as Halsad added that it didn't matter if it didn't match Unalmis' writing. It was incredible, that fate should have put them into each other's paths.

"Oh.. don't worry about that." Mar answered with a grin. "You should've seen the look on his face, and all his friends', when I managed to swap his essay pages, in school, one day." He couldn't help but laugh a little at the memory, before explaining. "We had this stupid assignment where our teacher made everyone get up in front of the class and read an essay out loud, which we'd written. I managed to swipe his before school. Then, I spent all morning, all the way through recess, writing a fake one in his own handwriting. Then, when the teacher called on him to read his essay, he got in trouble because it was all wrong, and quite insulting." He informed him, quite smug. "They couldn't figure out how it could've been in his own writing, when he didn't write it. It was great, and the teacher wouldn't believe that it wasn't his work." He grinned. He had even considered stealing his homework to make his answers wrong, but it turned out that the idiot didn't need help in failing the class and having to repeat a year.

"So, just give me some paper and something to write with." He was a bit eager to show off this skill of his, actually. This, he realized, would be the first time he had ever done so... with anyone. Even Ric had no idea that Mar was quite so talented at copying other's handwriting. He knew that he could copy Ric's handwriting, of course, but not anyone else's. When Mar had finished writing the note according to Halsad's request, he had not only matched it to Nal's handwriting, but it was also quite similar to Nal's own typical style of writing and word use, according to what Mar remembered from school. After giving the ink some time to dry, he held it out to Halsad, feeling quite pleased with his work. "They'll never know he didn't write it." He declared confidently.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
Lossarnach to Minas Tirith - Late December

She hadn’t minded the day of “rest” following days of travel and the previous day’s tension and intrigue. Talking and investigating was tiring in its own way, and after a second night at the inn, Ziran was glad to be on the road again toward home. The benefit of riding versus being cooped up in the carriage was that she did not have to join in conversation, and although she occasionally shared a comment or two with her riding companions as they traded off, Ziran let the wide open spaces act as a balm of quiet on her soul. They were taking a less direct route in return than the way they had ridden in their haste to Imloth Melui, but one that had reportedly smoother roads with fewer ruts from carriage wheels. The roads tended to be wider as well, having been well developed by Lord Forlong’s predecessors. Their carriage driver had traced out the route for them on the map, being familiar with the best routes to take passengers.

It took some time at their slower pace, with stops to stretch their legs and change riders, to reach the River Erui. Rather than cross in the waning hours of the wintery day, they took advantage of the Inn by the crossing to get a good meal and warm up. By the time they finished their meals the dark cold had tightened its grip, confirming their decision to stop. The Inn was more rustic than the one they had stayed in the past few days, but the food was passable and the blankets warm enough.

Rising the next day, the ferryman was waiting for them as soon as they had broken their fasts and the sun had warmed the ropes enough to lift the frost. They were able to take the carriage over on one trip and the horses on the next while their riders provided a calming presence. It wasn’t much further to the main road from Pelargir to Minas Tirith. The ride thereon was definitely more comfortable, but slower due to navigating the increased traffic that was still present in the middle of winter. They stopped again with but a short distance through Harlond and then the city to venture on the next day.

Arriving at the Great Gate in the early afternoon on the 28th, it took some persuasion to obtain entrance, but the Guards stationed there eventually agreed to allow them to proceed to the Guard headquarters with an escort upon Ziran’s sworn word that she had evidence to present and they would address both acknowledging Halberion Veranis as still living and of sound mind, and seek parole for Aderic Androllius as innocent of the charges levied against him.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Pharak Halsad, with ’Nâluthor’.
At the Chandlery, in Harlond. FLASHBACK - Six years ago approx.

What was the seal for ? Why would the Guards confiscate a vegetable ? The Burned Man had not answered the young Gondorian’s questions. And by the time that ’Nâluthor’ was regaling him with boasts about his penmanship, Pharak’s mind was fixated on questions of his own, rather than answers. So far he was counting on his dark deity to provide all the answers. He had not been disappointed yet. Quite the opposite in fact.

It was quite a leap of faith that each of the unlikely pair were making though. To trust one another when they knew next to nothing about who or actually what they were working with. And that little snag about the Twin having left his luggage back at the inn. What was that ? A means for the youth to find out what was really going on here, knock out the runt in order to slow down their departure, and then have some excuse to go run and fetch his back-up from the city guard, who were huddled in wait, back in the inn’s common room ? It was tempting for the Blood Priest to tell the young man that he’d have to leave his already abandoned things at the inn. Test that resolve once more ..


“Nothing is really what it seems to be,” The Umbarian summed up their entire series of interactions so far. As he observed the false letter taking shape. “We have found that much truth in one another already, I think,” he mused. “You have certainly earned your passage. Go. Fetch up your things from the inn. And find me on the ship docked in this harbour which flies the insignia of this seal.”

The ‘Chandler’ had finished his boxing up of cargo by now, and had made good work of stamping the seal into a pot of black ink. It’s unique design was imprinted on bottom of the cargo now, which was laid upside down. There was enough air inside to last until they got aboard.


Holding out the same hand which had gifted the seal to the ‘Chandler’, Pharak accepted the small Azrubêl heirloom he had stolen in Dol Amroth, and handed it to Ademar. Exchanging it for the letter, which he held in one hand and blew on it to dry it. “If you take too long, we shall leave without you. If you are in time, show this, and you will be welcomed aboard.”

A way to lay the fates of all in the hands of a greater power. Once again. And so they each prepared to go on their way. The Burned Man to deliver the fresh letter to the post master of Harlond. The massive ‘Chandler’ to oversee the box loaded onto the awaiting ‘Aracol’. And ’Nâluthor’ to make a choice that might just change his life forever.

[Ercassie]

@Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem - Part 59


Unalmis Raxëlilta, with Cadil
Spying a secluded swan ship, downriver from Harlond.
Last day of the Harvest festival, last year.

The eve was drenched in darkness already, and their venture along unknown paths seemed maybe more fruitless than it had when they set out. Brown eyes narrowed to mind the stones and steps they walked without tripping. But Nal was close to admitting that maybe they’d been led here on a wild goose chase, that there was no swan ship hiding down river at all. That was when his friend held up a hand to signal them to stop. Because Cadil had only gone and just found the rumoured ship itself !

“And it’s a Swan ship,” Nal celebrated. But his friend did not seem anywhere near as glad to have come across what looked like allies. In fact the other young man went so far as to say that he did not like the look of it. Why though ? Unalmis reined in his excitement and considered. He’d not minutes ago told Cadil that he trusted him, because he’d been part of a group which took on Umbarians before. And then Cadil had said a swan ship might hold the exact opposite of what one would expect.


“Alright, so if I have to guess, it’s going to take us all the time that we don’t have,” the Ranger did not sigh, but waited rather expectantly for his companion to explain his hesitance. “Why would you think there’s anything other than a bunch of Swan knights, on that Swan Ship ?” he wondered aloud. For the vessel appeared to be exactly what they’d been led to expect from the fisherman’s rumour. The hull of it had the shape of a swan, the name, even in the dim light they could see that it was Sindarin ..

“If they can help us, lets be serious. We need all the help we can get here. And if they are ‘the opposite’ then .. maybe they’re even involved in what we’re trying to stop. Either way, Cali is in trouble.” It was difficult to explain, beyond them having found the broach. Only her friends would know how she treasured that broach. How there could not be another one at all like it in the whole world. That she would die before willingly discarding it. And it had been here. Though she had gone to the coast. Which meant … she had to have been here. Unalmis would never say so aloud, but it felt almost as though he was being urged on by his dead friend somehow. It had become important. He wasn’t going to be able to turn around and go home now, without finishing what they’d begun.


“If you don’t want to come along and see, maybe you can stay here and be lookout ?” he suggested, as the notion arrived in mind. That maybe his friend had endured such an ordeal during the ‘meddling’ with Umbarians, that he was unhappy about repeating the experience. And after what had happened back in the Guardhouse, Unalmis was not going to judge Cadil for being reluctant. His friend had been the grounding force, only hours ago. And he’d pulled the poor guy into all this in the first place ! They should have just gone to the fayre with Iole. But then .. Talk me out of this, he willed his friend. Give me some sort of sense which will convince me that I’m just being ridiculous. Please. I don’t want to be right ..

If he hadn’t seen Cali’s broach .. If ‘Rip’ hadn’t stuck his stupid oar in .. If that Umbarian liar from years ago was not clearly still running around free … Nal was not sure he would be remotely as determined now to do anything but run and tell the Harbour Guard. Maybe. Probably. But after everything that had happened today, that wise and safe option was probably far less wise or safe any more. If there was something very wrong going on, and everything in his blood was screaming that there was .. well, there was only them who were in the right place to stop it.

“One way or another, I’m going over to that ship. I don’t have a choice here,” he levelled with his friend, and dropped his shoulders in a sigh at last. AS though there was no way to stop .. himself. Not without help. “So if you know any good reason why that’s an awful idea .. I’d really appreciate hearing it before I head over there. What do you say ?”

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Harlond, six years ago – Flashback

No sign of her ship in Pelargir or on the Anduin. No sign of her ship…in Harlond.

That was the main avenue and ultimate limit of sea traffic in Gondor, from Dol Amroth to Harlond. They had searched the harbour at Pelargir but were limited on account of not being able to talk to the locals that the Amrothians had misplaced a ship or to reveal Isys’ plans. Abrazimir wouldn’t be able to stand their mockery even if it wasn’t his ship exactly. Other inquiries there had proved fruitless. Even if his own mariners and people were still in the dark. Just a joy ride together by two knights to Harlond to complete an errand and some other tasks, nothing more. After finding naught at Pelargir, there was either the choice to turn back and expand the search to the open seas, or to continue on to Harlond, the last checkpoint up the River before the Rauros Falls made further passage impossible. They chose to continue onwards.

Together, Isys and he stood on the prow of the Gaeramar and swept their sea-grey eyes over the many docked ships there, seeing none that resembled their missing warship. He felt Isys sinking mood beside him and he so wanted to prove to the older woman, his neighbour and all, that their task wasn’t impossible. The ship would be found. All would be well. Every night they talked, Abrazimir learning more, about the ship, their query, their informant, and every night he felt the slackening of hope in his companion. Not he though. Not yet. Abrazimir had his optimism up until they passed the final ship in port, daring to think hey, it might just be right around the corner, what luck! There was no such luck. Soon enough, the Gaeramar was putting into port itself.

So, where was the Aracol? A grand warship like that couldn’t be taken from within, as Isys theorized. And it could not have been destroyed at sea, for there surely would have been witnesses and news of such a battle. Except…in the most dreadful of circumstances, like falling into a trap. The Mouths of the Anduin had many such outlets, deltas, and tributaries, to allow a ship, even a small squadron, to conceal itself and strike upon an unsuspecting enemy. But that was a tactic of Gondor’s, often used to great effect. The Corsairs could not have been so bold as to utilize itself. But it was said the yonder coastline of Harondor had increasingly become unfavourable to the forces of Gondor. Just across this very water they now sailed up, to the East…was the front line of conflict. Just a few miles away, enemies could be lurking and watching.

Isys wanted to wait until sunrise to ask the Harbour Master about the ship. You were due to deliver messages at Harlond for your father. ”That would take me but an hour or two. I can be off, there, and back again. And we can be off right away.” He offered to Isys, if that might alleviate her pained heart even a little bit. To get back on the search as soon as possible. The crew might baulk and complain though. They expected at least a full night and maybe a half day to enjoy the delights of Harlond. That is, the taverns…and maybe a few for the brothels. Abrazimir had barely granted them time in Pelargir. He was risking a lot of ill will to push them to depart while it was still dark.

He shivered though, not from the sudden wind but from the spoken prayer from Isys when he heard the elvish speech. ”Hey, look, we’ll find it.” He grabbed her shoulder and squeezed it affectionately, hard, like between soldiers. ”Think on this…maybe it’s safest to dispel some information here among sources to determine the whereabouts of our missing ship. We’re at the end of the line here so to speak. It’ll take time for rumours of our search to trickle back down the River to where our friends or foes might hear of it. By then, we’ll still be ahead and hopefully got enough information to find our query before it catches up to us. Yes? No? Just think on it.” Abrazimir suggested, a risky and bold plan, but it was ultimately her decision.

”I’ll get to delivering those messages. And if you want to wait until sunrise to see the Harbour Master, I’ll dismiss the men to find some enjoyment for now. There is an establishment or two often frequented by Amrothians. Maybe there is news of all the Amrothian vessels that passed by recently. Perhaps the name we seek can be among the recently frequented.” He shrugged, before signalling to his second to bring forth the packaged letters that needed delivering. The men were called to assembly upon the deck and told they could have the evening, night, and morning to themselves.

But by noon at the latest, they would depart. Any man not back from their carousing would be left behind and regarded as a deserter.

Rolls were taken and a tenth of the crew got the unlucky fortune to have to remain on ship and guard. Abrazimir and Isys could disembark and go about their own searches. Abrazimir might not have liked leaving a woman to wander the harbour of Harlond all on her own but…Isys was not a traditional Lady. She wore armour and wielded a sword and she would be alright. Good luck.

Abrazimir delivered his messages to a handful of places and was relentless in getting back any counter-replies if one needed to be said. Right then on the spot. He didn’t care what hour it was, it was pressing for the War he said, in the south against Corsairs, and the local authorities his father had dealings with better get a move on. Upon completion, he made the rounds to the establishments in particular he mentioned that might have word of recent Amrothian vessels coming in or going in the past month. Frequented by Amrothians, they were not the only faction of patrons at these places.

Harondorians. A mix of Gondor and Harad peoples, they had a distinct accent and style of dress, though not too far off from the locals on this side of the River. Strange to see them after the tremendous conflicts and tribulations their land had gone through. Cities depopulated, refugees fleeing in all directions, spies and agents of both sides waging a shadow war. These must be the pro-Gondor friendly types. Still, a surprise to see any kind of stranger here. He made nothing of them at the moment.

But speaking to certain locals, spreading a bit of coin around, buying some drinks…he did not get the answer he wished. Amrothians had been through recently. But none of the ship names or captains mentioned by their sailors were the names he and Isys needed. Defeated, he made his way back towards the docked Gaeramar, feeling the bite of exhaustion and fatigue from a restless night. On a ship all day and up so late during the night, it was a bit much. But he was determined to report back to Isys, if she had returned from her own errands and searching.

She had. With a guest. Addhor Raxëlilta. Abrazimir believed this was his first time meeting the old Ranger. ”You found something? ‘Cause I found nothing.” He reported to Isys, while eyeing up the stranger a bit. Introductions were made and it seemed Addhor too was seeking someone. A son. Unalmis.

Abrazimir did not know what to make of Addhor, full of conviction to find his son. But… ”Can you fight? Serve aboard a vessel as sailor or mariner?” Abrazimir had put the screws to him. ”What can you offer us?” He was not keen on trusting this stranger, broken as he seemed. Another mouth to feed. Another body to watch. Abrazimir would not be responsible for his safety or well-being.

But…Addhor apparently met this burned man, of whom Isys spoke of. Abrazimir knew how important that was to Isys and though his kinswoman had originally put the decision in his hands whether to accept this man…he was tossing it back. Do you trust him and his tale? ”You think his information might be prudent? Then he can come along. And if it proves to be a fable…he can disembark at Pelargir and walk home. But there is nothing else for us here, I reckon. So let us be off as soon as the Port Authority grants us leave!” They can talk on the voyage southwards, compare notes, and discern if anything further clues as to their query.

Wherever that might be…

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Ademar (Aka Nâluthor)
Harlond, the Chandlery
About 6 years ago

He had noticed, of course, that his questions went unanswered. His curiosity did not fade, but he did realize that maybe this was not the place to be asking and answering such questions. He might come back to it later. If he didn't, Mar would likely ask again, later. So, for now, he figured maybe he should just try to be patient and not assume that he had been ignored. He did not like being ignored, and he wanted to believe that his new friend would not do that to him. His curiosity was increasing the more he learned about this guy, and he was intrigued to know what fate he had in mind for Unalmis.

He put his best efforts into the letter, and by the time he had finished, he felt quite pleased with the results. He was glad to do his part in ensuring the suffering of his former classmate. One of his greatest enemies. If only he could bring the rest of them along on this little... adventure, that would just make his day. But alas, he would have to just be satisfied with whatever was planned for Nal.

As his friend declared that he had earned his passage, Mar smiled, pleased to hear that. But passage to where? With the forged letter successfully completed and handed over, he was handed the very seal he had retrieved before. Mar looked at the object in his hand as he was bidden to go and retrieve his things, then he looked up at the scarred man, holding it out to him. Halsad. Lord Halsad, the other guy had called him.

As he took the small item, Mar frowned slightly, thoughtful. Halsad seemed to think he had to go all the way back to the inn for his stuff. And if the ship was leaving now, then... did that mean they would have left without Mar, if he hadn't arrived early? Or was it already noon?

Fortunately, he had left his things just outside, so it wouldn't take but a moment to grab his bag. But Halsad didn't know that. Would he have waited, if that had been the case? Mar considered how he would answer if it was, though. It wasn't as if he had a lot of things anyway. Was it really worth running down the street and back, just to grab a bag stuffed with some clothes and a few other items? And risk getting left behind? The guy even warned that if he took too long, he would be left behind. Suddenly, he wanted to know how Halsad would react if Mar was willing to leave his meager belongings behind, if it might mean being left out of this adventure.

After reaching this decision, all the while looking thoughtfully at the seal, Mar shook his head slightly and looked up again. "No," He replied slowly, and offered it back. "It's nothing worth going back for. Just some old clothes, and stuff that can be easily replaced." He decided. Definitely nothing worth missing out on this adventure, for, he figured. "I'd rather stick with you. They wouldn't dare leave without you, would they?" He asked with a little grin, feeling pretty smart for that decision. Lord Halsad, that must mean something, right? This guy must be pretty important, somewhere. Even though it clearly wasn't Gondor. And Mar planned on being someone important, someday. So, it seemed like a good idea to learn how to be successful from someone who was already important, right? And who better than someone who was apparently so alike to him? "Perhaps I could come along, wherever you're taking that?"

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Pharak Halsad, with ’Nâluthor’.
At the Chandlery, in Harlond. FLASHBACK - Six years ago approx.

Just as they were about to separate, the Gondorian declared his reluctance to proceed with the plan. With a glance, Pharak directed the 'Chandler' to pause as well. The large man dropped the box he'd been dragging in a small hand wagon, locked the door again and crossed his arms in wait of what they would do.

The Burned Man paused on the brink of telling his associate in their mutual language, to bring out a second box. But he managed to curb his immediate instinct, recalling that he did not know all things. As the seal was extended for him to take back, the Umbarian refused. His turn. And went so far to curl the younger man's fingers around the small item.


"I usually work alone or with those who obey me without question," he made clear to his new accomplice. Not entirely making clear however whether this was an apology for his presumption, or a threat that compliance was expected. A sigh betrayed Pharak's hesitation though. There was a reason for everything. Maybe this very delay now was sparing them from walking into a chance harbour guard patrol ..


"Your zeal is undeniable. But I must have two answers from you before I consider your suggestion." He looked square in the young man's eyes as though he had the means to see through them. Or else hypnotise him into obedience. "Did you sign into the inn using your own name or some alias that people could track down your presence there, at this time, and mark your departure as now, at this time ? Perhaps as part of your means to build an alibi of where you are or to frame your brother ?"

He gave the Gondorian a moment to think why this might be important before he made his second enquiry. "Is there anything at all that might identify you amidst your luggage if it were left behind ? Any way for the inn you stayed at to track you down and insist on a payment for the room you may not have paid yet ?"

A few old clothes and things that could be easily replaced, the youth had reported. But he'd been told to bring only what he needed. Was there nothing personal at all amidst his luggage ? When even clothes themselves might be recognised by his brother if that guard came looking for him and tracked him down to the inn. If he'd used his real name there, or one that his brother might figure out was him ..

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Ademar (Aka Nâluthor)
Harlond, the Chandlery
About 6 years ago

The reaction of the other two caught Mar by surprise. He watched with a feeling of confusion as the big guy dropped his load and locked the door after what Mar had said.

He turned and looked questioningly at Halsad, who had taken a moment to pause before he reached out and closed Mar's hand around the seal. His words settled about the younger man's ears as he considered them. Orders? He hadn't thought it was an order. He bit back the response that he was in the habit of disregarding orders because he didn't like being bossed around by anyone. He wanted to be there when they made Unalmis suffer. He wanted to come on this voyage and see what Halsad had planned for Nal. So, he realized that he couldn't tell him about how many times he'd gotten in trouble for not following orders.

As he listened to the first question Halsad asked of him, Mar smiled slightly but held off from answering until he had heard the second question. That one kept that little smile on his face, and he decided to answer that one first. "You needn't worry about any of those things." He assured him. "As for my bag," He began, and motioned toward the door. "It's actually just outside, I left it there when I came in, so it wouldn't bump into anything and alert him I was there or something. I was about to say so, but then I got distracted writing that letter," He explained with a small shrug. "Then, I was curious to know what you'd say if I was willing to leave all my belongings behind to come along." He smiled slightly. "So, I don't actually need to go back to the inn, but I did mean it when I said there was nothing I couldn't replace."

Next, he addressed the first question. "The name I used isn't one that'll trace back to me, or to my brother." He was quite confident about that. Perhaps even a little smug. "See, I thought about the inn's register all the way from the city. So, I figured, if you've decided on calling me Nâluthor, a name which not even my brother can associate with me... then technically it isn't even a lie for me to write 'Nal' down on the register." He explained. "But... should anyone come along looking for him," he gestured toward the box containing the cargo which he had knocked out, "Well, I figure it would seem like he'd stayed the night there. And, I figured that would support your plans..?" He paused for a moment to check if he had been right, or if this had been an error.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Pharak Halsad, with ’Nâluthor’.
At the Chandlery, in Harlond. FLASHBACK - Six years ago approx.

There was a moment where the youth seemed to consider, what was being asked of him and what he really wanted. Pharak could only assume what the Gondorian had concluded on either count. But obstinate arrogance seemed to strive against the want to do as he was told. Interesting. The smile on ’Nâluthor’s face seemed to indicate that this new associate was confident of his actions and reasoning. There was no backtracking, no apology, no begging. Unashamed initiative, to be sure. But that could prop up a person to persevere .. when things got difficult. The lad believed in what he was doing, even if he did not understand it wholly yet, that much was clear. And that .. the Lord of House Halsad could work with.

"You were curious to know what I would say, if you were willing to leave all your belongings behind, to come along." The Umbarian repeated the response, aloud, so that he could properly absorb it. He tilted his head a little, to better scrutinise the other. "It was smart thinking to not give your true name. And I expect you thought also to ensure that your visage would not be remembered, if anyone were to come and ask there ?" he ventured, and gained an accord from the Gondorian before he continued.


"Your not-friend here was seen leaving Minas Tirith through the Great Gate with me, after breakfast this morning," he then shared, calmly, watching the Gondorian's reaction. As the 'Chandler' watched the back and forth between the two with interest and no intervention. "So I do not imagine anyone would conclude that he could have spent last night in your inn," Pharak continued, albeit patiently. "Though I admire the effort. It may cause some level of confusion to any pursuit. They shall likely conclude that it was an irrelevant coincidence. And since it does not lead toward you, in his stead, that is well enough."

With a glance up, he placed the letter from his pocket, face down now on the counter of the shop. "See this delivered to the post office here in town, once our ship is already a-sail," the Burned Man told his large assistant. In the common speech so that their young friend could comprehend the alteration as well. "Say that a young man meeting the cargo's description gave it to you to deliver. He met you on your way to check if any mail had arrived lately for you. He was impatient and did not want to wait, so you did him a favour. The delay in delivery to Minas Tirith may work out to be more authentic, given the contents of the letter. You understand, that I can not walk into the post office with you at my side," he made clear this last part, to the twin.


"I told you to bring only what you would find useful, what you would need," Pharak recalled then, and beheld the Gondorian thoughtfully as the 'Chandler' unlocked the door again and readied for a second attempt at setting out. "It seems all that you truly need is reassurance that your vengeance shall be appeased," he noted, and bred a sinister smile of his own to accompany the judgement. It was a sentiment he harboured himself. Although of course, there were a few items which would be necessary to ensure that vengeance. The box, the gourd .. The Umbarian hugged that disarming object close to him anew.

"I accept your sacrifice. That what you brought thus far, you would surrender, in the name of what you want." With a nod, Pharak gestured for the 'Chandler' to now open the door again. "What was shall be replaced with what should be. Now it is time we were away," he determined. "The port is at it's busiest in this hour. But have your face turned from the sight of any who might witness you with me. Until we are aboard."

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie
Carpe Diem
Cadil with Unalmis
Arrival in Harlond. Last day of the Harvest festival, last year

Cadil sighed with a fair amount of exaggeration as he listened to all that insistence coming from Unalmis and then studied the ship again, parting the reeds with his hands.

“This ship awfully reminds me of the one that took us to Umbar. Pirate folk on it. Though I can’t be fully sure it is the same ship,” he explained, facing his friend and frowning. “But what you wanna do?”

He motioned towards the ship. “If it were Swan knights, it’d be all good, but if it’s them pirates – you want to go there and take the whole crew of them on without proper backup? Besides…”

Cadil paused thoughtfully before asking: “Just how you gonna get there? Think they are close enough to walk onboard from the coast? I’d say it’s more like requiring a boat or a swim.” He then narrowed his eyes at Nal. “It’s not like I’ll let you off alone without knowing who’s on that ship. I suggest we cook up a quick action plan rather than just pop up there and say – here we are.”

---

@Ercassie, @Rillewen
Hadassa with Xyler and Unalmis
Out in the Pelennor Fields, Dec 30th

“I suppose it is more fun to conceal your identity at the masquerade if people might recognise you,” Hadassa spoke up regarding the matter of going all out with the disguise. “I mostly thought of it as an event to show off fancy clothing.”

She shrugged and laughed lightly when Nal said he had noticed them dancing quite a lot. “I think it was our best go at dancing after watching others do it. And yeah… why not teach the horses to dance?” She laughed once again and then motioned towards the fire with one hand as she juggled her plate-to-be in the other. “If the stew is not cooked yet, I could stick at least a couple carrots in it and watch over it as it cooks.”

Having listened to the exchange of information both from Xyler on his hopes of finding at least relatives if not his mother and Unalmis saying he had the girl’s necklace, she put in: “Nal, do you have that necklace here with you? Not that I would know who it belongs to…”

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Beyond the Pelennor - January 2nd
(private)

She let the ship go without any dramatics. This had been her suggestion. Her call - with Pele's approval. Of course she did not change her mind. Of course she did not stop it. She could not stop it, even though her stomach had plummeted. Her hands were steady on the reins as she guided Nársulë to the road back to Minas Tirith, even though her heart was trembling.

I let Tercen go.

Not one of her Rangers. Her older brother. And her last living blood relative.
Not someone who followed her because he had to.
Someone who knew her.

He knew the pauses she hid behind decisiveness.
He knew when her voice went flat because she was afraid.
He knew which jokes were armor and which were deflection.
He knew how she'd looked as a child when she was scared and refused to admit it.

He wanted to go, she argued with herself, as she pulled the blanket around her as best as she could, trying to ward off the cold bite of the wind. All that would have stopped him was locking him up somewhere. She hadn't done that. She hadn't wanted to do that. Not to him. Not to herself. And now she was suffering the uncertainty that followed. Now he might suffer the consequences, as well. He could be tortured in Umbar. With or without Ava being responsible for it. He could die, there. His golden hair matted dark red. His strong, young body, ripped apart. Arnyn breathed in through her mouth, gulping in the frigid night air.

It did not feel like the blanket was doing was doing much of anything, anymore. She could hardly feel the feet in her boots. Her hands seemed frozen, despite being wrapped in her winter riding gloves.

She swallowed, one hand letting go off the reins, before it went looking for the teardrop-shaped sapphire she wore around her neck. She could feel it despite the ice in her fingers, despite the thickness of her gloves. The shape, the edges - so familiar. It was so many things. An anchor. Grief given form. A memory.... of honour, and bravery, and loyalty. Arnyn's hand wrapped around it, as her mind tried to battle the fears that were using the emptiness of the carriage and the silence around her to try and overwhelm her.

For so much could go wrong. And the lonely ride back to the White City gave Arnyn Dealedwen the room to imagine every version. An ambush at sea. Betrayal in Umbar. A quiet knife in the dark. Arrows in a crowd. One death. Two. Three. While she could do nothing. While she was absent.

That was the iciest part of the ride. She had put the mission before her brother and her friends. For she had not gone with them, only because she had wanted to a part of the rangers' sea training. She had told herself it was necessary. Mandatory. But now it seemed like she had put her assessment of the unit, her own skills at sea, above the safety of Tercen, Gladhron and Gwestion.

Not that her presence would have prevented any danger from befalling them, if Ava proved to be a liar or if Umbar had figured out she hadn't lied at all. But Arnyn was spiralling. And somehow, the choice of not going with them immediately now seemed... heartless. And it made her feel guilty. And powerless. Not being there at all, meant she could do nothing in her power to avoid a bad situation, or to help them get out of it.

Arnyn did not measure danger the way most people did. For her, as it was for many who took up weapons in defense of lands and people, danger was something you stood next to. You leaned into it. To provide a shield. To put somebody between harm and whoever it was who needed protecting. But now - now, she simply wasn't there. She wouldn't be able to interpose herself between them and any dangers. She wouldn't be there to possibly offer Tercen, Gladhron or Gwestion that small extra moment they might need to escape with their lives.

Arnyn buried the lower part of her face into her scarf, breathing through it as she kept her dark eyes on the road. She still couldn't believe Gladhron had volunteered himself and Gwestion for this. Still couldn't believe Gwestion had agreed. Somehow, it warmed and chilled her at the same time.

They'd met her when she had no rank. They had gotten to know each other when she needn't be unbreakable in public. They'd known her as a person first.
Gwestion had seen her flinch at a wasp like it was a Nazgûl. He had heard her sing. He knew she could be gentle without meaning to be.
Gladhron knew even more. He had seen her artwork. He’d seen her exhausted enough that the mask slipped. He had seen her emotionally raw. And he had stayed. Without trying to change who she was. Without trying to fix her.

Letting my walls down with them was...

She bit down on the scarf. She built walls for a reason. Kept her distance from people, for a reason. More than one, in fact. One of them being that it kept her from caring this much.

And now, in the cold dark, with the carriage empty and the road stretching endlessly ahead, she had to sit with the fact that the people she'd let in were the ones now most exposed.

[Ercassie]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 60



Unalmis Raxëlilta, with Cadil
Spying a secluded swan ship, downriver from Harlond.
Last day of the Harvest festival, last year.

Unalmis had been as honest about his intentions as he could be, and Cadil had returned the favour by plain-speaking about his own reservations. It was not as though the Ranger could deny his friend’s good sense. It was simply that he could not afford to let that same case of good sense stop him. Even if the other young man did have fair cause to suspect this would not be so easy as it had initially seemed. Somewhere within realising that they were still going to do something, that they just had to be smart in the doing of the thing .. Nal paused at the word his friend had used. Pirates. A pirate ship ..

It wasn’t quite a surprise, of course, that pirates would make fell use of a swan ship, if one came into their hands. For everybody knew how the King and his Grey Company had employed the Corsairs’ own armada against that enemy's allies, during the war. Unalmis had seen firsthand how a pair of swan knights had usurped an Umbarian dromon as well. They had been all but met by the local guard when that unlikely-looking rescue docked in Pelargir to drop him and his father to shore ! But pirates .. pirates had ..


“Pirates took you to Umbar ?” he repeated back what he’d just heard, as though the hearing it again might somehow prove more convincing. Brown eyes blinked as though that would reset his thinking into understanding. “But my cousin told me it was …”

A frown did not properly complete the sentence, but the young man lacked the words. Nardy had most definitely told his younger cousin that they’d sailed on the ship of Trev’s father, to Umbar. That he and the Swan knight had known the Captain from Belfalas. That Trev had been on board, although too busy apparently to make with conversation. Nal hadn’t blamed his friend for that version of the tale. For Trev had never been much of a fan of Nardy, when he’d come to visit, bossed the younger boys about and caught them truanting … So, he could see his friend avoiding his elder cousin. But now Cadil was saying that had happened on a pirate ship ? His friend had been on a pirate ship ? His friend’s father was the Captain of a …


An even sicker memory twisted Nal’s gut then, as ’Rip’s sneering voice threw in his two bits worth. “Pirates … isn’t that what your friend’s doing these days ?” The accelerating night’s hour hid quite how the colour washed out of the young man’s face. He’d not even stopped to take ‘Rip’s jeer remotely seriously. Before now. He had not even known which ‘friend’ the deplorable ass had been trying to defame. ’Rip’ would say anything to try to get a rise out of him, to try to have him believe the absolute worst in somebody .. That was just how he was. ‘Rip’ was a liar. And .. yet ..

Now Cadil was filling in the blanks which put all of the pieces together. Smuggling at the harbour, that had been mentioned as well, back at the gate altercation. And .. now that he thought of it, Unalmis recalled overhearing something about his Uncle telling his Grams .. something bad about Trev’s father. Something .. some reason why little Nal should not be allowed to go down to play with his friend at the harbour, when Trev’s father couldn’t even be bothered to come up and face his mother in law .. His recall of his uncle was as hazy as the memory of the whole conversation. But smuggling, they’d used that word. And for all of Cadil's smart thinking, Unalmis was growing more determined than ever that he really had to see what was on that ship now.


“I’m … thinking ..” Sinking down to a crouch, Nal raised one hand to reassure Cadil, who was still rattling off good reasons to be cautious. Facing an entire crew alone ? Not smart. Going over there before they even knew who was there, and would not until it was already too late … very not smart. He gestured for his friend to duck down as well, now that the risk they were facing was undeniable. “We’ve extra clothes and rope to make use of,” he considered slowly. “And there’s no way to get over there without getting wet. We don’t have a boat or the time to go and find one. How are you at swimming ?” he put to Cadil, already thinking further than that point, although he allowed his friend silence to answer before he spoke his thinking aloud.

“We don’t need back up, we just need to know if whoever is on that ship would be friendly to someone in need, or not,” he reasoned, slowly. Head bowed, as each hand reached beneath on of his feet and anchored low. “A shirt can blow up with a pocket of air, if we set it into the water with good speed. We can drag it out into the middle of the river, using the rope, and make with noise enough, calling out to draw attention from the ship. They’ll see the shape in this light from where the noise is, think someone’s in trouble, and we can see what they do about it.”


He had refrained from naming who would manage this swim out to place the bait and make noise, as yet, though he was prepared entirely to do so. “While they are all bothered on our drowning ‘friend’ .. we can get a better look at them, maybe sneak aboard from the other side of the ship where nobody will be looking ?”

He glanced back to Cadil, checking whether his friend could or would find fault enough with the idea to discard it. This was how it had always worked. First you work out what might be done, and then you work out how to get away with it .. With a shrug he unloaded his friend’s bag from his back, and made it look entirely natural, and not like he was already moving toward making the plan a reality. “That ship could decide to sail away at any moment ..” he voiced a concern of his own.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie
Carpe Diem
Cadil with Unalmis
Harlond. Last day of the Harvest festival, last year

"Uhu, t'was," Cadil confirmed when Unalmis asked about the means of transport that was used to get into Umbar. He squinted at his friend in the dusk, waiting for any further words in that regard, but then again the conversation seemed to take a somewhat different turn.

"Well..." the young man drew thoughtfully when Nal began to set out his plan, and after another look towards the ship sank down on one knee. "I can swim well enough not to drown, but not..."

He let his voice trail away when his friend continued to flesh out the details of what needs done about the ship. "Mmmm," he murmured, keeping to himself the thought that he might botch any attempt at sneaking because he was a bit clumsy and not exactly all limber and quick. He thought that Nal must have seen the shape he was in during their little excursion this far.

"We could try that," he agreed slowly as he watched the other youth all but ready to dig through the contents of his precious bag to find the necessary items. "But you know..." he decided that perhaps he should say something. "I don't wanna be the weak link and get us both in trouble. If you cool with that risk though..."

[Ercassie]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 61


Unalmis Raxëlilta, with Cadil
Approaching a strange Swan Ship, downriver from Harlond.
Last day of the Harvest festival, last year.

He smothered a smile as Cadil professed his competency in ‘not drowning’. While that much was of course the very basis of swimming, it was not exactly a confident assurance. Unalmis had never attempted swimming on so vast a water as the Anduin before, although he and his friends had frequented the sometimes fast flowing streams and brooks of the Pelennor fields in years past. The great river itself .. even in this dimming light, appeared as an immense breadth by comparison. But the current did not look too alarming and geography from school had taught him that the more volatile rapids were all away in the north. It was going to be cold though ..

“My friend, I’m sure that it is my fault we have ended up in all this trouble to begin with,” the Ranger shrugged. If only he had never suggested they try to climb the wall rather than go through the queue at the gate. Of course, he’d been turned back so many times by certain gate guards that he’d been forced to consider the climb in the first place. And those guards weren’t even ‘Rip’, who had of course exacerbated the entire situation. “That arse back at the gate would never have taken against you, except that he saw you with me. So it’s fair, to my thinking, that I undertake the wetter risk. Especially as I would count you the stronger of the two of us,” he flipped Cadil’s fretting over being a ‘weak link’ on it’s head.


“So if I could leave this with you,” Nal offered Cali’s broach out of his pocket to the other young man. “She’ll literally kill me if I lose it in the river.” Since there seemed no further cause to delay, he then recommenced a rather less subtle search from amongst their resources – most of which, it is fair to say, Cadil had provided. “I mean, the very least I can do in return, is wash your laundry for you,” Nal tried to make light, as he lined up the shirt which Cadil had changed out of earlier, and the small metal shackles they’d prised out of the harbour guard wagon, and the long rope .. all from out of the bag his friend had let him carry. It was a quick errand to tie off each sleeve of that sweated shirt at it’s cuff, Then tie off the bottom also. And secure the small metal shackles with a knot halfway along the rope.

“Keep a good strong hold on this end of the rope,” he laid out the important part which his friend would need to play. “That shackle should weigh it down just enough so that it’s not seen above the water surface. But it shouldn’t be too heavy else. It’s only a shirt. Don't let them see you at this end of the rope though.”


Unalmis then removed his boots, and jammed his busted knife where his belt would hold it firm. Before striding warily down the side of the bank, to dunk the readied shirt into the river’s edge. The soaking sealed it’s seams to a watertight skin, which left only the collar opening to go. “If this all goes wrong, drop the rope and head back into Harlond,” he made ready a worst case scenario solution. “Find a house with a red door and ask for a man called Thorondir Darthor. He’s a former customs official but his son is a friend of my family. If you explain what has happened, I am sure he will do what he can to help you. If there was more time, I would have taken us to him by now. WE certainly can't trus the Guard here. But the risk of losing whatever or whoever ‘Rip’ helped to smuggle out of the city just meant there was not time. And I mean, Thorondir’s a bit too old to take on a pursuit like this.”

The plunge proper into the dark river sent an involuntary gasp out of Nal’s mouth and he paused for a second to blink once and rediscover his resolve. Whilst still at a point where his feet could touch the bottom, the Ranger readied the rope and scooped the collar of the soaked shirt swiftly before taking it beneath the water surface. A not insignificant but neither really impressive amount of air plumped up the inside of the shirt, and so Unalmis tried over, a second time. It would have worked far better with a pair of trousers, but neither of them was likely to resort to that sort of a sacrifice. Since the second attempt proved slightly more productive than the first, and the shirt’s top was scrunched tight and tied off, like the other openings, .. it seemed all was ready.


“The very minute that I can tell if it is safe for us to trust them, and come aboard, I will call out to you,” he promised in a hush, through increasingly chattering teeth. “But if you hear me shouting out for ‘help’ in a moment, don’t panic. That’s just to try and get attention from the ship.”

And so, then with a deep breath, Unalmis left one end of the rope in his friend’s firm grasp, and took off swimming with the buoyed up shirt at the other end of that rope. Since they had elected to play out this ruse upstream from the ship, there was less fear that he might be swept off in the current where no one in the ship would even note him. But after venturing out as far as the now wet rope allowed, Nal bobbed with one hand beside the already beginning to deflate shirt.


If there was a moment when he began to doubt that this had been any sort of good idea, it was in that moment, when it was too late to change his mind. But he did not have a choice here. Beyond it being his literal job now to not turn away if he learnt somebody was in need, it was in fact also somebody he cared about who was at risk. And it was largely thanks to the involvement of an enemy he had personally sworn to help thwart their any deed. So .. the added complication of quite who or what he might now find, by initiating contact with the swan ship … there was no way he could not. Despite whatever may come of it.

It had been thanks to Trevadir that he had even learnt to swim, he recalled, after his still young friend had come running home, so proud, that his sailor father had taught him to swim. Before the week was out their whole group of friends were all splashing up a storm and … Please. Please, he could not beat the thought out of his head, even as the strong rippled surface slapped against his mouth. Please don’t let ‘Rip’ be right. Please don’t let my brother be mixed up in all of this ..


If anything, the unease lent an authentic air to the cry that he put out, hollering in the direction of the swan ship. “Help, help ! Is anybody on ship ?” One hand grasped tight around the rope which leashed the unhappy but still floating shirt. “Hello ! Please, I’m in the water !” he added a new line to his repertoire. Letting go of the decoy, he found that it somehow floated quite well, for as long as the plumped up air within would allow. And so the moment that brown eyes caught a glimpse of a figure appearing over the silhouette of the deck, Unalmis ducked down under the water, from below his makeshift buoy. He had counted that somebody would be on lookout, and it seemed so.

Beneath the surface, he let the river carry him beneath the shirt as well, then closer toward the vast shape of the ship. Only there did he emerge with as little noise as he could, as close to the anchor's chain as he could. Treading water, with now a new cord to keep hold on, Nal huddled as close to the hull as he could. Of course he banged his elbow against it at one point, with a stifled curse, before glancing up to see if the figure on deck would notice and try to assist the floating shirt.

And all the while, his mind was reciting the desperate mantra. ‘Don’t be pirates. Don’t be pirates. Please be swan knights. PLEASE be Swan knights !’ They needed help, not who knew what next sort of a hindrance ! Of course, the way this day had been going since he had woken, ought to have been a clue about what would happen next.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem

Trev
On the pirate ship, Wingolost, anchored out of sight and downriver from Harlond
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Rope and cords were easy enough to find on a ship, and it didn't take long for the young sailor to bind his two slumbering crewmates to their chairs. Any guilt he felt about doing so, he pushed away, reminding himself, instead, of all the reasons why he should not feel guilty. They sure wouldn't feel any guilt if they harmed either of his sisters, or if they aided in bringing them to Umbar, where they'd suffer terrible deaths. No, Trev decided he had no remorse for tying them up.

After securing the men, Trev's next stop was to the galley. He had no idea how much water Iole needed, so he got the biggest kettle he could find and filled it from the rain barrel outside, before putting the pot on the fire to heat. Looking around, Trev tried to think of what he needed to do, next. The key. He slipped back into the crew's quarters, now searching the bunks of the two men, and among their belongings. Carefully. He didn't want to make it obvious their stuff had been searched, after all.

Still, he found nothing. After a little while, he hurried back to the galley and found that the water had already come to a boil, so he grabbed some towels and lifted it off. Careful, with the practice of someone who'd grown accustomed to carrying full buckets of liquid throughout the ship without spilling it on himself, Trev brought the pot of boiling water back to the brig, setting it on the floor near the bars that separated him from his sisters. He couldn't stay long enough to chat, though. With a brief nod to Iole, and a glance to see how Cali was faring, he hurried off again.

Canvas. Trev wasted no time in scaling the mast, intent upon stripping it of its furled sails. He didn't need all of them. Just the one. He'd down the mainsail, cut a sizeable piece out of it, and take it to Iole to use for Cali's arm. After that, he'd take the ship apart searching for the key, if he had to. He'd start with Dev's cabin, somehow, and then...

“Help, help ! Is anybody on ship ?”

The distressed voice made Trev freeze just as he was cutting the last corner holding the sail to the crossbeam. The heavy canvas dropped to the deck below, as the young man hastily scanned the area around him in confusion. He saw no other vessels. Who could be calling for help? And was it his imagination, or was that voice familiar?

“Hello ! Please, I’m in the water !”

In the water!? Trev swiftly turned his gaze downward, squinting through the dusk as the sinking sun cast the water into shadows around the ship. It took him a moment to spot the figure there, but it was too dark to tell anything about him. As Trev swiftly descended from the mast, he was trying to think of who could possibly be calling for help. All the crew was off in Harlond, getting their cargo. All except for the two bound, sleeping men below deck, and the injured healer in the infirmary. And Trev.

He ran to the railing at the side of the ship, peering down to try and spot the person. "Ahoy, where are you?" He called back, not knowing, of course, that the person had gone below the surface now, and probably could not hear him. But he spotted them without further vocal aid. But it didn't look too good for the person in need. Trev hesitated only a second, thinking of his sisters, and how much time he had left before the rest of the crew might return. But someone might be drowning out there. And he definitely knew what that was like, and he wasn't about to leave them to die if he could help it. Although he had only been five at the time, he still vividly remembered his first near-drowning...


“Sit down,” Dev instructed, annoyed. “You’re rocking the boat.”

But 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 was terrifying, like a shapeless monster trying to swallow him, dragging him away from safety. The small boy shrieked in panic as he suddenly found nothing beneath him for support. Arms and legs flailed uselessly, splashing and waving wildly in both air and water, churning up water around him so that it got in his face. 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? What was he supposed to kick at, the water? He continued to flail his arms around, but now, he also tried to kick, like his dad said. But it didn’t seem to be doing anything.

“Kick.. yes, faster. Like you’re paddling.” Dev demonstrated somewhat, using his hands. Halfheartedly. “Like that, but 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 he found that it did make him stay up a bit better. He managed to take a deep breath and held it.

“Good.” Dev leaned back again, without any apparent urgency about him. “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 hastily sucked in a fresh one.

“Good. Keep doing that, but only, come toward the boat now.” 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.

His father's lack of panic 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.” He sounded annoyed, now, but Trev hardly cared. He couldn't wait to get home and tell his friends about learning to swim!

The memory flashed through his mind quickly, but it also gave Trev an idea. The rowboat that they'd used to bring Iole and Cali and the other barrels to the ship was still there, hoisted up to be level with the deck. But it was ready to be dropped into the water, ready to make another trip to the harbor. It only took a second for Trev to undo the knots holding the boat suspended in the air, a rope secured to the front and the back. These were secured in such a way that a sailor had only to pull the ends together, and the boat would drop into the water levelly, rather than one end dropped before the other. "Hold on, I'm coming," Trev promised as the boat splashed into the water, covering any other noises that he might otherwise have heard. Once the boat was in the water, Trev grabbed one of the ropes that was left, and slid down as quickly as he could manage without giving himself rope burn, and managed to land himself into the boat like someone who had a lot of practice at that type of thing.

The oars were in the boat, and the drowning person wasn't too far from him, fortunately. Trev still wasn't the greatest at rowing, but he had gotten better at it in the past few years. But as he approached the apparently drowning person, Trev worried that it was too late... the guy wasn't moving. He appeared to be face-down in the water. He was already drowning, but maybe it wasn't too late to help him. Trev anchored his oars and reached out to grab the guy, to pull him into the boat... and found only a shirt. With all the openings sealed?

Confused, Trev looked at the decoy for a second before recognizing that it was a decoy. He hastily looked up and around, realizing he'd just fallen for some sort of trick. Dropping the wet shirt, he grabbed his oar again, prepared to use it as a weapon, or simply row himself back as quick as he could. Had he just been lured away so that someone could sneak on board? Another pirate group, perhaps? Someone looking to loot their ship? And he'd just left it entirely abandoned! With his sisters locked up inside... he felt a surge of panic at realizing he'd been fooled, but the question was... by whom?

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 62



Iole Ishen. Aboard the ‘Wingolost’. With Cali
Anchored out of sight of nearby Harlond harbour. On the last day of the Autumn Festival
Last year. (Cont from THIS POST )

‘Don’t worry about that’, he’d said. But still the two pirates, even in their absence, played upon the young woman’s mind. Trev had said the pair were idiots, but he also could not find the key they’d had. So the outcome was the same, regardless of the Pirates’ intelligence : they were stuck. The only positive to this was that it gave time for them to aid Cali toward improvement before they’d ever have a chance to make a move. But then, that meant the move itself might not happen in time to make any difference .. so yes she worried over that. When Iole did not release Trev from her gaze, he fled quickly, with promises to fetch her the hot water she had asked about. Fabric too, their brother believed he might be able to find. And by this point she knew better than to doubt him. But apparently any errand was favourable to staying, preferable to trying to convince her it would all be alright. Doing something, anything, had to be a help, after all. Even if it only kept their mind off the inevitable.


He had gone before she could think to point out that a decoction called for boiling the herbs in the water. Maybe simply steeping them in already boiled water would be enough. With Cali propped up as far as she deemed would be comfortable, in her lap, Iole smiled uselessly and willed her sister to come back to them. The tinctures they had fed her would improve the ‘patient’s clarity and focus, but everything took time. Time to make busy. Time to stay busy … Shaking hands gathered up the pieces of apron and bonnet, scrutinising them for use as sling resources, or maybe bandages. The more help that her brother gave them, the better their sister’s chances of recovery would be. And at the same time, the more that Trev helped them, the more he was bound to get into trouble with the rest of the crew when they returned. While Iole already hoped this increased threat to his life might convince their errant member to leave the ship with them, when the time came, that was still very dependent on whether any of them were going to get to leave. In one piece.


He returned with the promised hot water, but no time to pause. And so blue eyes could only trail after him, as Trev rushed off about his best efforts. They had all but emptied the water canteen by now, washing down the foul tasting tinctures that had been put to Cali. it took a little adjustment of her position, for Iole to ease her friend’s weight off her, and concentrate on carefully pouring some of the hot water into Trev’s water flask. Her brother had made it look so easy, managing about his urgency without spilling a drop from the kettle. She had to stall several times to make sure she could manage the same, even while sat. Nerves, she reasoned. It was nerves. But deep breaths, slow, calm, ..

Dropping the extracts of bark and the remaining white willow into the now hot water in the canteen, Iole checked on Cali’s pulse, and felt at her brow for fever. The comfrey paste that coated her sister’s forearm by now seemed to be bringing down the swelling. But this hot-brewed third stage would lessen the pain. It would need to cool enough so that it would not burn the ‘patient’s lips, throat .. and Iole could only concentrate on keeping it upright, not spilling, .. It did not help that she could not bring the kettle properly through the bars, into the brig. It might serve as a bracing means of defending themselves if it could be flung at any foul minded pirates ! Both the scolding water and the kettle itself ..


Iole’s knee brushed against the small piece of bamboo which her brother had cut sharp. The point was turned away so that it did not cut .. her … but it felt reassuring to have it close by. Just in case. This whole situation could get a lot worse before it got any better. Best be prepared for anything to happen. But all she could do in the meantime was to wait.

---

Unalmis Raxëlilta, come to the ‘Wingolost’.
spying on the lonely lookout (Trevadir).

With years of scaling walls, escaping out of windows, and ascending the tree in his back garden, to mention but a few examples .. , Unalmis would have considered himself to be a fair climber. But the heights he had conquered before this day were less prone to the motions of a wide river current. And, admittedly, the curved hull, bobbing in the Anduin, did not pose any more wild a challenge in these reaches than might mounting a tree in the wind. The cold chain of the anchor’s leash though threatened to twist as he exerted pressure enough to haul himself up with both hands, ankles caught around the strong descending lead further down, as a back up, in case his hands should lose grip. Figuring in the wet as well, however, the young man hauled his now drenched form up out of the river without any great comfort. He was soaked and shivering by the time he dared to peer through the scuppers, but there was no crew to be spied, lying in wait upon the deck. He had not missed that a small boat had been lowered but there had come no other pounding of feet to suggest a rush of hands to help, or .. whatever the folk on board would do. In fact there looked to be nobody else on board except the one presumable lookout, who had just abandoned ship. It was .. very strange. Where was everyone ?

And then a voice called out from the water, a voice that sounded .. familiar ? And Nal almost lost his grip entirely before he managed to glance over in the direction of the ‘rescue’. A smile spanned his jaw in the very moment before it slowly dissolved in a slow, cold, realisation. Trev. That was Trevadir ! But .. if that really was Trev, then this was .. not a ship full of Swan Knights. It was potentially a ship manned by pirates or smugglers, or both. Still, he had not seen a single pirate yet. He’d seen only his friend.


A glance toward the bank where he knew Cadil was concealed, and Nal extended then lowered his left hand out as though a droopy wing, for a signal to his friend to keep out of sight still. A second later Trev seemed to realise the ruse, and began to look about him. What might have otherwise been a smug moment of satisfaction for the baiter, had given way to a much more complex reaction. Unalmis held his breath in an urgency, as though he had just fallen back underneath the water. And then released it, eyes wide to ensure he was not seeing just what he wanted to see .. If this was .. a good thing ?

Reason and good sense, not to mention experience .. all called out for him to stay quiet a time yet longer. But .. but that was Trev !! That was his brother, right there. And it had been years …. And a lot can happen in years … But .. but … The young Ranger’s heart ached with the want to call out. Against all his better judgement, against everything he’d recently learned .. It was his brother. He’d always trusted his brother. His brother had never given him a reason not to trust him. Emotion won over with a case of every kind of muscle memory. He could not make himself do anything but risk his life, risk this entire hope of retrieving his sisters, in the name of his brother. Their brother too …


“That’s a catch,” he called out, as he saw the other pause, an oar raised in hand. “Not quite as impressive as a catfish. But ..” a shrug would have completed the reassurance that he was himself. Though he did not smile. He did not descend. He froze like a limpet where he was. “Is it too late to ask permission to come aboard ?” he wondered, as loud as he might dare to. But still. .. Still nobody came running across the deck. There was no sign to alarm him. Did that mean it was safe ? After what Cadil had said. After what 'Rip' had said ... A friend and an enemy agreeing on the one thing which Unalmis did not want to accept. It had to be safe. It was Trevadir.

He might be able to clamber over the bulwark without any aid from his position. He could just as easily let go, drop, and submerge out of immediate sight, if he needed to. If someone tried to grab him against his will. But for all intents and purposes, there was still only his friend, his brother .. down in the rowboat. And so he waited. To see what all the years apart had brought them to.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem

Trev
On the pirate ship, Wingolost, anchored out of sight and downriver from Harlond
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Trev froze, startled by the voice calling out. Not because it was alarming, but because he recognized it. There was no doubt about it, now. He turned toward the sound, taking a moment before spotting the young man clinging to the anchor chain, just short of climbing over onto the deck. So... he was right, someone had created this decoy to lure him off the ship, so they could climb on board. Just, not for the reasons he had feared. And it was about the last person he would have expected to see, too. Nal! Trev stared, speechless, as his friend, his brother, asked if it was too late to come aboard. So casually and unconcernedly. As if they were still kids, on some silly adventure, and none of the events of the past few years had happened. As if he hadn't disowned Trev as his friend and abandoned him to suffer the consequences of the worst choice in his life.

Trev lowered his oar slowly in amazement, no longer feeling any need to be defensive of any invader. His amazement didn't come from the fact that the other had gotten past him so cleverly. He was a ranger, after all. No, he was amazed to see Nal, of all people, here. At this precise moment when Trev was wishing for someone to help him. He stared incredulously at the other young man for several heartbeats, while a couple of things flashed through his mind. For a moment, he felt a great flood of joy and relief in his heart. His brother was here at last! He'd come to help him... Trev wasn't alone anymore. And what perfect timing! Now that Nal was here, he could help Trev get their sisters free. Together, they'd figure out how to get that door open, and they'd flee here together and everything would be alright again! It almost seemed like some sort of dream, like it was all a little too good to be true.

And then, it hit him. The timing was too coincidental. Trev felt the tiny flicker of hope extinguish just as abruptly as it had sparked into life. He must have somehow found out that the girls were here. Right. Nal wasn't here for him. He hadn't come to rescue Trev. Of course not. Trev wasn't sure why he'd even let that thought enter his mind. It had been made quite clear, years ago, that Nal had forsaken their friendship, and that he didn't want anything to do with Trev. The sting of that memory, when Dev had told him about it, threatened to swell into a crushing weight in his heart, but he hastily shoved his own feelings down deep, before it could overwhelm him. He had to focus on something else, right now. Cali and Iole needed help. That was far more important than himself.

"Since when have you ever asked permission to do anything?" He answered with a slightly forced smile. Well, at least maybe they could work together to get the girls safely away from here. If Nal wasn't opposed to working together, he was sure that his one-time brother would be helpful in accomplishing more than Trev could, alone. "Go ahead, I'll be up there in a moment." He suggested, while putting his oars into the water, rowing his way back to where he could tie the boat to the device that would haul it up level with the deck.

He pushed his disappointment down deep, focusing on tying the knots on the ends of the boat so that it wouldn't slip while he was hauling on the ropes to raise the boat up. The pulley system made it doable for one person to manage it alone, although it was certainly easier with more than one person, working together. But it wouldn't take long before Trev was stepping onto the deck. And he braced himself to face... whatever he might face, once he stood face-to-face with Nal again. He longed for some sort of friendly greeting, like he would have expected years ago, but he couldn't get that memory, from years ago, out of his mind.

"I ran into your friend on the docks, earlier." Dev shrugged.
"Nal? He was there?" Trev asked, hope flaring up, along with disappointment that he had missed a chance to see his friend and talk with him.
"Yes.." Dev answered, as if unsure how to proceed.
"What'd he say?" Trev glanced anxiously back toward the ever-more-distant shore, regretful that he had missed out on this chance. "Why didn't you come get me?"
"Well," Dev hesitated. "I mentioned to him, how lonely you seemed, and suggested he might go over and talk with you. I..thought it might cheer you up. You were sitting on the edge of the dock, playing your flute, just a short ways off. I even pointed you out to him."
Trev stared at his father in surprise. "Wait, how did I not know about this then?" He remembered being there, sitting on the dock, playing a tune. He'd been there the whole time Dev and the crew were doing stuff!
"He said he didn't want to talk to you." Dev answered quietly. "He said.. that you aren't his friend anymore, and he doesn't want anything to do with you anymore. He said, he couldn't care less if you're happy or not.. that you made your choice, and now you have to live with it." Dev paused, and sighed. "Sorry, Trev. I just.. didn't want you to keep thinking so highly of your so-called friend, knowing.. what I knew."

Maybe.. maybe Nal had changed his mind. Trev tried to hold onto that hope. Maybe, he'd realized how unfair it was to abandon Trev to a choice he'd made years ago, without knowing all the facts. Maybe he was willing to give him another chance? He really hoped so. And, in that hope, he decided maybe he shouldn't judge his friend for words spoken years ago, words that he may not have really meant. He hoped he hadn't meant it. Trev really wanted to believe that was the case, rather than the alternative. He took a deep breath before approaching Nal, now that they were both stood on the deck together. "You'll be looking for the girls." He assumed, with a small jerk of his head to point toward a door leading down below. "Come on, this way. I've been trying to figure out how to get them out of the brig," He admitted. "And you.. should probably get into some dry clothes," He added with a small frown, noting that Nal was drenched and shivering. "I have a couple things you could borrow.. unless you're conditioning your endurance against hypothermia." He added with a half-grin aimed over his shoulder, having already started toward the door.

Then, he paused as his eye caught sight of the crumbled sail on the deck. "Oh... right. First, I have to do something. I promised Iole some cloth." He remembered, veering off-course to resume the work that Nal's decoy had interrupted. He kneeled by the fallen sail, drawing out his dagger so that he could cut a large portion out of one corner of the sail. Meanwhile, he decided to fill in the ranger to whatever he could tell him about the situation. "Cali's been hurt.. her arm might be broken, and.. I think she might have a concussion or something? I'm not sure. Iole's been tending her, but she doesn't have proper supplies, and I don't know what to do." He sighed, frowning at the canvas as he guided his blade through it carefully. "They're locked up in a cell, and I can't find the key to the brig. There's only two crewmen aboard, besides me, and they've been... dealt with, already." he added, with a meaningful glance at Nal. Then he paused and attempted a faint smile. "I'm glad to see you, you know." The last bit was added softly, and almost carefully; he wasn't sure how Nal would respond to that, but he decided to take a risk and find out.

---

Cali, with Iole
In the brig

"Where are we?" Cali's voice was faint, half mumbled, but less dazed than she had been before. It was hard to say how much time passed since swallowing the herb concoctions that Iole had pushed at her. She was keenly aware of the pain in her arm, but at least she was feeling a bit more alert now. But she felt, too, as if she'd missed a lot. Where were they? The floor on which she lay seemed to be wooden. It also seemed to be.. swaying? She found that confusing. If she closed her eyes and pretended hard enough, she could almost believe they were in the tree house, with the wind swaying the branches in which the structure rested. But she knew better, for she would have recognized the tree house.

She dimly remembered snatches of occurrences; the struggle with their captor, being carried down some dark staircase, being shoved into barrels, and rough men's hands poking and pawing at her while she was in and out of consciousness. Bits and pieces of arguments concerning herself, and Iole too. But most clearly, she remembered Rip at the gate, and she was determined not to let that memory slip away into uncertainty. If they ever got out of this, she was going to make sure he did not get away with that!

But for now.. her arm was in pain and she was wondering how long she'd been basically unconscious, and what she'd missed during that time. "What's going on?" She whispered, slowly shifting onto the elbow of her uninjured arm to raise herself up a little to try and get a look at her surroundings.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem - Part 63



Unalmis Raxëlilta, come to the ‘Wingolost’ and Trevadir.
Anchored out of sight of nearby Harlond harbour. On the last day of the Autumn Festival, last year.

The response, when it came, said a lot. Not just in the words that were spoken. But in the tone those words were spoken in. In all the years the two young men had known one another, in the more recent span of years they had been sundered from one another .. it was all there. In Trevadir’s response. A grin escaped Unalmis’s best try at remaining impassive. A small release of breath as the Ranger dropped his chin into his neck. And then he rallied, jammed one foot into the scupper’s space, and heaved his dripping form over the bulwark to the deck. Trev was going to be there, in no time at all. They were going to be both there. Well, here. There had been a horrendous count of nights when he had lain awake, afeared that this moment would never come to be. That he would never see his brother again.


In the time between his arrival proper, and the moment they were stood together, Nal took his opportunity to spy out what more of the ship he could now, from this vantage point. A slight tip backward of his head allowed for scrutiny of the ropey heights and the unnatural ladder of vast wooden beams, veering up in an insane tangle toward the sky. And maybe it was just the shadows of the skulking hour, but there was naught alive to find up there. The deck itself was equally abandoned, with only a large canvas sail splayed out to be seen. Steps took him toward it, as one hand recalled the small broken blade at his belt. But one toe only ducked under the forlorn sheet, and dredged it up to form a small gaping rise, only to find nothing but more deck beneath. The floor lulled gently beneath him and the intruder took a pause to allow his weight to shift, a little that way, a little the other. Subtle, but steady. Somewhere wood creaked, and Nal shook himself into a more alert state of waiting. It was eerie, this find. Of all the possibilities that he had considered with Cadil, coming aboard an apparently empty vessel had never featured as an option.

It seemed premature then to send news to his ally back hid on the bank. For safety was not yet ascertained. The young Ranger had done his share of scouting ahead, reporting back, since he had enlisted. But what would he be able to say of this find ? Not enough yet. A noise erupted from one unseen side of the hull, and brown eyes flew in that direction. Until he realised. It must be Trev, boarding the ship. Slowly, warily, with more than one circling look about his immediate vicinity, Nal wandered over to investigate. And then stepped back, in ever increasing speed, as his brother emerged and settled before him. In the flesh.


“You ..” he started to remark that his friend had found some height since they had last seen one another. With an appraising tilt of his head, which snapped back to straight faced attention, as Trevadir commenced with his own greeting. And it was no greeting at all. It was all business. Immediately. Informative, but also bewildering. It seemed that the more his old friend told him, the less Unalmis understood. Trev knew that he’d come looking for the girls, somehow .. but also .. he mentioned girls .. plural ? And they were here. Not in the chandlery, but here. Upon this very ship. And they were in the brig. Whatever that was. Also Trev had clothes here, enough that he could offer a loan .. if being dry mattered. The Ranger lifted one bare foot, lowered it, then raised the other, as though he had only now remembered that he was wet. That he was dripping wet where he stood. But still his mind was trapped back at the point that Trev had clothes here. Because he lived here. Because this was .. his father’s ship. As the sailor then threw out an attempt at humour, almost like an afterthought, over one shoulder, Unalmis just stared. His hand curled fingers tighter around his knife, but that hand dropped to the very lowest that his arm could hang. As though he had lost all control over it. Over all of him. Because .. wait. What ?!

He had carried his stare from his friend, to the door which his friend encouraged him to go through. And then blinked several times, as Trev casually namedropped Iole amidst his ramble. Iole ?! But then the fallen sail stole his friend’s any expression from him. And a further barrage of information blindly found its way from the one young man to the other. Cali was hurt, the girls were apparently both locked up. And there were only two other crew … and Trev was also crew .. here. On his father’s ship .. And the other two crew had been dealt with already. What did that even mean ? ‘Dealt with’ ..


By the time that Trev mentioned he was glad to see Nal here, the latter took an unconscious step back, as though a massive onslaught had just been launched at him, and he could not bear the weight of it all at once. Mentally, of course, that was a rather apt depiction of how he felt. Part of him was equally satisfied that he had not completely misunderstood the situation about Cali being in some trouble, and shocked about the rest of it. Which it would evidently take more time than he had to try and fit altogether.

“Oh. Umm. Yeh,” was all that he managed, and even that small emission sort of fell out of his mouth by accident, rather than on purpose. He was not sure he could form more comprehensible sounds quite yet. Raising his knife-holding arm the free hand poked at the broken blade edge as though it was safe to. And after an awkward short silence, he tried to improve upon that effort. “I mean .. What about other .. ‘passengers’ ?” When he managed to speak, and shake off another stunned stare, that was the first thing that came to mind. And a frown betrayed the fact that even he was not sure what answer he wanted to hear in response. But .. “What happened to the rest of the crew ? And what in stars name is a brig when it’s at home ?”


They were absolutely far from anything that felt like home. There were a lot more questions which he was still fixing on quite how to ask, but already it felt as though he was asking the wrong things. But was there a right thing to say, in such circumstances ? It felt … not right. Unalmis wanted more than anything to breach the space between them two, drag Trev up from his sailwork to his feet and throw arms around him. But .. he couldn’t move. The brother he saw, and heard .. in reality .. it was all more strange than any dream, more unsettling than any nightmare. It was .. well, it was not supposed to be like this ! He could not even express that he was glad to find Trev, here .. now .. Because he was still trying to work out quite what Trev being here, now, actually meant. His armed hand dropped again like a weight. Brown eyes threw a wary glance to find that door, checking it had not changed since he had first been introduced to it. And then back to his best friend, his blood brother. Who clearly had absolutely changed since he had last parted from him.

“What happened ..?” he muttered then, only half audible. A fair question, which related to every single aspect of the entire situation. But one he was immediately unsure if he wished to gain the answer to.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Rillewen
Carpe Diem
Cadil with Unalmis
Harlond. Last day of the Harvest festival, last year

Cadil watched his friend dig through the bag and put together the 'drowning person', wondering to himself if he should offer Nal one of the few sandwiches he still had. But then again being heavier might not be good when trying to swim.

"Well, fine, I would figure you'd be better at swimming than I," he said, still feeling somewhat self-conscious about not being in the best shape for any kind of adventure like this. "Uhu..." he agreed to further plans Nal set out and put the received Cali's treasure into a secret pocket within his clean shirt to keep it safe.

"Thorondir Darthor, red door," he repeated the name to remember it should the need call for aid, though he had no idea how exactly he would find the said red door. "You just don't go drowning, I might not be able to save you, y'hear?" he demanded as he watched his friend prepare to set off into the water.

There was not much else to do but to find a safe spot to lay down in so he would not be easily spotted by whoever would find the shirt - if anyone even came towards it. As he waited for Nal to wade out and set up the 'trap', Cadil held onto the rope with one hand and tried to create a small window in the wall of reeds so he could peer out and see any approaching danger before it came on him. Time seemed to drag on endlessly as he listened for the sounds of Unalmis in the water and then his yelling followed by splashing which he thought sounded like oars. He tried to peer through the small opening he had made but could not see much, instead he focused on holding the rope tight when he felt tension on it - he assumed because of the shirt being lifted out of the water. He waited for any further developments, a whistle, a sign, something. But nothing came, and waiting seemed even more endless.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

The Last Time



Unalmis Raxëlilta. A brief FLASHBACK – Late summer. More than 5 years ago approx.
An unexpected turn up at a previously arranged meeting. A Harlond Inn.

It seemed that the only direction in which he could travel swiftly was to turn feet in a closeted circle where he stood. For certainly people were pressed in close from every quarter, and wherever he ventured a step, he came close to being trawled underfoot by the relentless mob. For a town which was so small that it could sit in its entirety within a single circle of his white city home, just now Harlond appeared to have just as vast a population as Minas Tirith could boast, if not more. And they were all out about their business in this particular hour ! Standing in the street felt like being digested very slowly in an eddying whirlpool of bodies. And yet everyone was smiling, laughing, going about their everyday. As though this was all entirely normal. And of course, it was normal to them. But Unalmis had only been here once before that he could recall, and there was not much of that single experience that he wished to remember.

Cobblestones beneath his feet did their best to ground the young man, as he tried to identify landmarks. Those to head for, and those others he knew to avoid. The house with the red door, which Diona had described so many times at school, where her grandfather lived. The Chandlery .. where Nal had been sorry he ever had set foot, a mere six months ago. And the inn, one with an eight legged aquatic beast painted on it’s hang sign. That was what Trev had said to look out for. They would meet there. But as the sun beat down, Unalmis was beginning to weary of ever locating his friend. Until he finally spied what he reasoned fit the very unique description. It took another near five minutes to work his way over to the door.


Inside was a whole other world, one far less congested and at least marginally less noisy, where whispers ricocheted about the cosy stone cave hall. Here folk were huddled about the tables, all in groups, while he stood apart like it was his first day at school. The dim light caused him to narrow brown eyes to adjustment, after blinking in the bright outside. There was a bar beyond the gathered gatherings but drinking was not his goal here. A few people glanced around curiously, before dismissing him as naught to do with them. A few paused, over seeing a stranger in the mottled green leathers. More than one set of eyes strayed to scrutinise the sheathed sword. But it was easier to whisper about the odd sight, by leaning toward their fellows, so that their comments did not come clearly to his hearing. And so conversations carried around every table, so that none was properly coherent until a person made his choice which of them to commit to.

Recognising the one person who he did know here .. was not very difficult, although Nal could not help but note his friend had already found some other company. The man with Trev seemed vaguely familiar as well, for a stranger. Not Nal’s Uncle of course, who he had once thought to find in Harlond. Maybe then this was Trev’s … grandfather ? Come to persuade him toward the annual family holiday out to Belfalas ? For there was certainly a resemblance about the two of them, more so with every moment that he spent observing them together. But the older man did not look nearly old enough to be a grandfather. Not that Nal could say he was familiar with grandfathers in general. Where was Toby though ? Too young to even come into the establishment, but .. surely too young then to be left wandering elsewhere alone.


It seemed the only way to find out was to make himself known. And indeed, that had been the plan. So Nal approached Trev’s table, at that inn in Harlond, with not the slightest idea that this would be the last time he would see his friend. For five long years ..

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Brother's Keeper


Ullothel, Trevadir, and Tobedir
At the Gates of the White City
Late summer. More than 5 years ago approx.

"Now, you boys be good for your other grandparents," Ullothel bid her grandsons with a smile. She always worried, every year when they went away for these few weeks, but they were growing up and she tried to tell herself they would be alright. Besides, they enjoyed spending time with their paternal grandparents. Sweet little Tobedir did not often get to leave the city, and the boy didn't have many friends. The only ones he had were in Dol Amroth, so it would be nice for him to spend some time playing with other kids his own age. And Trevadir, she thought with an inward sigh. He would settle down one day. Surely. She hoped so, anyway.

Tobedir hugged his grandmother with a big smile. "Don't worry, I'll be on my bestest behavior, Grammy. I'll miss you!" He was excited to go visit his grandparents in Lond Col, but he didn't want his grandmother to feel bad if he didn't seem as if he would miss her. After receiving the mandatory goodbye hug and kiss on the cheek, Toby waved and picked up his bag. "Bye, Grammy!" He called out, as he hopped up onto the back of the wagon laden with supplies on its way to Dol Amroth. A farmer from the Pelennor was taking the ferry down to Pelargir to try selling various things there, and he had agreed to let the boys ride along in the wagon since they'd be going on the ferry, too.

"You look after your brother, Trevadir." Ullothel said as she turned to the elder brother. The one with the attitude, who disliked spending time with his little brother. She hoped one day they would get along and be friends, but at the moment, that time seemed a long way off.

"Yeah, I know, GrammyU." Trevadir refrained from rolling his eyes. He was impatient to be off, since he had plans to meet his friends somewhere. "We'll be fine, I promise." But then, he paused before getting on the wagon. "Take care of yourself, Grandma," he added with sudden concern, surprising Ullothel as much as it did Trevadir. But she was sort of old, after all, right? And he didn't want to return home from his adventure to find she'd broken her hip or something. Then, he'd just feel horribly guilty for pulling this 'stunt' as she would call it.

"Oh, don't worry about me." Thel hugged him. "I'm not the one about to be riding on some flimsy raft, all the way down the coast. And all those strangers crowding on it.. you keep your brother close to you, you hear?"

"Toby will probably spent the whole time with Grandmother and Grandfather, or else playing with Iuldir." He shrugged. Why should he be expected to look after him if their grandparents were there to do it?

"Just the same..." Ullothel hesitated. "I'm just glad you're going to be along to keep him safe."

"You haven't anything to worry about, Grandma. We'll be fine." He frowned a little. Why was she making such a big deal about this? This seemed to satisfy her, however, but to his dismay, she planted a kiss upon his own cheek next! After a quick glance around to ensure that none were around to see such a horrendous thing, the teenager swiped his sleeve over the affected part of his face before giving his grandmother a quick hug. He tossed his own bag up next to his brother.

"Oh," she remembered suddenly. "I have something for you two." She pressed a small, wrapped bundle into his hands. "This one is for you, and this one's for Tobedir." She instructed him.

"Oh. Thanks." Trev barely kept from rolling his eyes as he accepted both bundles. It was obviously more handkerchiefs. As if they needed more of those. He climbed on board before she could do anything else to embarrass him, and passed Toby's package to him. "Bye, GrammyU."

As the wagon set off with the two brothers seated upon the back, legs dangling over the edge, Ullothel waved to them, trying to calm her worries. "Farewell, travel safely!" She called. "I love you!" She could not part ways from her grandsons without saying it. She sighed in relief to hear the words returned, as at least one of the boys called back, "I love you Grammy!" One day, she hoped, Trevadir would get over this phase of thinking it was embarrassing for his grandmother to show him affection.

It was not until the wagon was no longer in sight that the old woman finally turned back to the city. She had seen them off, and in a few weeks, she would be back at the great gate to greet them upon their return. They were only going to Lond Col. Their other grandparents would take care of them, she told herself. Still, having lost her husband and two children already, it seemed unbearable to think of losing her grandsons as well. They were the only family left remaining to her. And what would she do now, without the boys there to care for?

---

"The Last Time"


Trevadir(15)
Harlond

Trevadir knew his grandmother would be watching until the wagon was out of sight. He was beginning to feel rather anxious about whether his plans would work. But, once he was sure that they could no longer be seen from the city, things began to come together quite well for the teen. Fortune, it seemed, was smiling upon him. Not even ten minutes after they had set out, his little brother began to yawn, and indeed, it seemed the boy could not stop yawning!

Trevadir, being the kind, thoughtful brother that he is, suggested that Toby settle in and rest. "The trip is long, after all, and you won't miss much." He had pointed out, hiding his delight in the fact that the boy was so sleepy. The moment he was sure that Toby was asleep, he began to set his plans in motion. A note, hastily scribbled on a scrap of parchment as a last-minute thought, was slipped into the sleeping boy's pocket.

By the time the wagon rolled into Harlond, Toby was fast asleep, nestled in between a couple of sacks of grain. Trev took a glance around, then back at the farmer driving the wagon. He wasn't paying attention to them back here. Next, Trevadir's bag took a leap off of the back of the wagon, soon followed by Trevadir himself. He stumbled a little upon landing, but he stayed on his feet. He turned, watching the wagon roll on along its way toward the ferry, his little brother still sleeping peacefully in the back. He'd left Toby's traveling money in his pocket, but he took his own fare money along with him.

Toby would travel downriver on the ferry, staying overnight at Pelargir, then travel onward to Dol Amroth where he would stay with Iuldir's family for a few days. Then, Iuldir's mother would send him on his way to Lond Col to spend the next couple of weeks with his grandparents. Trev would have plenty of time to rejoin his brother there, before it was time for them to return home. Toby would have plenty of fun in Dol Amroth, while Trevadir had his own fun elsewhere. And then, he'd just warn his little brother not to go tattling, and everything would work out just fine. Now, with his bag now retrieved, the teenager set off in the opposite direction to find that inn where he'd suggested he and Nal should meet.

Trevadir joined by Dev
At the White Kraken Inn

The streets were busy, this time of day. It took him a bit of effort to weave his way down toward where the inns were. It seemed as if a horde of sailors had suddenly been unleashed from one of the ships, and they were not the most polite of folks. Still, those types tended to head toward the seedier types of places, like the disreputable Siren's Embrace tavern. Trev's grandma would have probably a heart attack if he ever set foot in a place like that, he thought with a little eyeroll.

Fortunately for GrammyU, that was not his destination. The White Kraken Inn had a better reputation, while it's common room still boasted of fairly affordable prices on food and drink. Comparable with the Guesthouse, back in Minas Tirith, perhaps. Trev and Toby had occasionally had a meal here before setting off on the ferry, or on the return trip, they'd loitered here while waiting on transportation back to the city. It was to this inn that Trev had directed his brother to meet him, and so it was toward this inn that he directed his path.

As Trev was moving across the street toward the place, he was only half paying attention to a trio of big, rowdy men who were walking along in the other direction. Two of them had grabbed something belonging to the other, and they were laughing and tossing the trinket back and forth, while the third guy tried to get it back from them, always too slow to snatch it back, for each time he went to grab the trinket from the guy who had it, he'd already passed it over to the other. The other two found it hilarious fun, but the third guy didn't seem to be enjoying it quite as much.

Just about the time Trev was passing by on the sidewalk, one of the bigger two guys threw the item to the other big guy, who hastily backed away as the middle fellow made a lunge for him. Unfortunately for Trev, he backed right into him. Next thing he knew, he was crashing to the ground. The other swiftly grabbed his trinket back while the antagonist was distracted; whirling around on Trev. "Watch where you're going, kid!" He complained, as if Trev had been the one to bump into him. Even though Trev was the one sprawled on the ground.

"Me?" Trev's temper flared hotly as he hopped up, glaring up at the guy twice his size. "You're the clutz who wasn't looking," he retorted angrily.

"Oh, you think you're a tough guy, huh kid?" The burly sailor grinned unpleasantly and squared up with the youngster, flexing his muscly arms. "What'ya gonna do about it, huh?" He demanded, clearly eager for a fight.

By this point, Trev realized that it may have been unwise to talk back to the guy. His gaze flicked from one to the other, and realized that while it may have looked like the two were picking on the one, they were all together. Apparently, they'd only been having a bit of fun with their buddy. But it looked like they would all join in, if it came to a fight. How did he manage to let his temper land him in a situation like this, not even ten minutes after getting off on his own?

"Rurik," A new, calm voice called out. "You guys wanna spend your shore time in jail, for beating up some half-grown kid? Or you wanna go on to the tavern and enjoy your evening?"

The three turned to take a look at the new guy, then seemed to consider his words. Then, the big fellow who was apparently Rurik, scoffed and shoved Trev's chest so that he stumbled back a couple of steps. "It's your lucky day, kid." He smirked, then the three of them laughed as they went on their way.

Trev let out a slow breath of relief, although he glared after them. Then, he turned to see who this fourth guy was... and did a double-take. He knew that face! He was older than when he'd last seen him, but he'd know that face anywhere. "Dad..?" Trev uttered under his breath in disbelief. The man had already turned and set off on his way, heading toward the market area. Trev hurried after him, pushing past a few people on the street, trying to chase after him. "Dad!" He called, louder.

At last, he managed to practically jump in front of him, catching his arm. "Dad, it's me!"

Dev had, up until this point, ignored the person calling out 'dad', mostly assuming that it was not directed at him. But now, suddenly, he could not ignore it. He stopped short, staring in surprise at the kid who was suddenly blocking his way. "Sorry kid, you're mistaken." He tried to brush past him.

"No, I'm not." Trev insisted, moving along with him. "You're Devedir Thormaetha, you're my father. I knew you'd come back someday!" He said happily, hardly able to believe that it was actually happening. For real! His father had actually come back at last!

This stopped Dev. He blinked at the boy standing before him, looking absolutely thrilled. It took him a second or two to recover from the shock. "Trevadir." He stared.

"I can't believe it!" Trev's grin couldn't possibly get any bigger. "I've missed you.. how long are you in town? Do we have time to catch up? Where are you going? I can walk with you, maybe." He suggested eagerly.

"Whoa. Slow down," Dev held out his hands, then let out a slightly nervous laugh before composing himself a little better. "Uh.. wow. This is..." He was going to say unexpected, but thought better of it. "Trevadir. I can't believe it."

"I know, it's amazing," Trev also couldn't believe this. "How incredible is this?" He had so many things he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to tell his dad, but he didn't even know how to start.

Dev glanced around, then turned back to the boy with a smile. "Hey, I've only got a few hours before I sail again. How about we go someplace and talk? Have you eaten? I know a good place to eat."

Trev somehow brightened even further. "That's perfect. No, I was on my way over to the White Kraken, actually, to meet a friend." He explained.

"Oh?" Dev paused, but then nodded slowly. "Alright, that sounds good." He turned and walked along with Trev toward the White Kraken inn. "It's funny, I was just thinking about you the other day." He commented thoughtfully, recalling a recent conversation with a certain priest.

"Is that why you came back?" Trev asked, looking curiously over at his father as they walked. "I always knew you'd come back for me, someday." He smiled happily.

"Yeah, you could say that." Dev agreed, still a little stunned by the uncanny timing of it. He opened the door, motioning for his son to enter ahead of him, then followed as Trev selected a table. "So, who's this friend you're waiting for?" He wondered.

"It's Nal," Trev answered. "You must remember him," He laughed, remembering some of the times in his early childhood when his dad had ended up babysitting them both, often taking them fishing or something.

"The neighbor kid..?" Dev raised an eyebrow questioningly at this news. "Why meet here, instead of just.. going next door?"

Of course, this launched Trev into explaining how Nal had enlisted with the rangers and that he no longer lived next door to Trev, and how they were going to go off on an adventure together, and how Trev had to ditch his little brother to get here, and so on.

Then, while he was in the midst of talking about his and Toby's annual visit to their grandparent's house, the door opened and in walked his friend. He was facing the door so he could keep an eye out for when Nal came, so he spotted him as soon as he started approaching their table. "Oh, there he is now." Trev waved to his friend, although it was unnecessary since he was already almost to their table.

"Nal, it's my dad!" Trev declared with a grin. "I always said he'd come back. See, I told you, didn't I? He's really here!" It still felt surreal even to Trev. That his father was sitting right there, talking with him!

Dev turned to see the newcomer, taking a curious look at the young man. They had both changed tremendously since the last time he had seen either of them, of course. Since it had been, what, ten years or something like that? They'd both been practically toddlers, the way he recalled them. "Unalmis.. how are you?" He found this very interesting.. and he also happened to know someone who would probably like to have this kid back in his possession. "I hear you two are going on an adventure. Something about investigating one of the beacons? Perhaps I could help you with transportation?" He offered. "I happen to have a ship at my disposal, after all." He mentioned with a little smile.

---

Carpe Diem

Trev
On the pirate ship, Wingolost, anchored out of sight and downriver from Harlond
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

When Trev turned to add that last part, to tell Nal that he was glad to see him, Trev couldn't help but notice that the other young man was gripping his knife down by his side. His gaze lingered on that knife for a moment as, for just a second, it seemed like everything froze. Trev had faced plenty of sailors bearing a variety of weapons, usually angry at him for one reason or another. But this was his friend. His blood brother. His gaze flicked back up to his face, even as the other took a step back, as if recoiling from Trevadir's presence.

It stung, he couldn't deny that. It was as if there was far more than a distance of time that had come between them. As Trev watched, the blade was revealed to be broken, but he knew that some damage could still be done with it. And he realized that he really didn't know what Nal meant to do with it. Dev's words crowded into his mind, again. The captain ahd warned Trev a multitude of times, that every member of law enforcement would be on the watch for Trev and his crewmen. That they wouldn't care how innocent he might be, he'd be seen as a pirate and dealt with accordingly. But Nal. He wouldn't do that... would he? Or would he? Only moments ago, Trev had been recalling his former friend's rejection of him. Maybe he really had meant exactly what he said. He had abandoned Trev to this life.

With a sinking heart, Trev reminded himself that Nal was only here to rescue their sisters. He didn't care anything about Trev anymore. "Passengers?" Trev repeated, with lingering wariness as turned back to cutting a chunk of the sail off from the main portion. He needed to do something anyway, to keep himself occupied. So he wouldn't think too hard about this great chasm that suddenly existed between himself and Nal, who had once been closer than brothers.

The last question that came at him next proved how much more Trev had learned of ships than Nal had, in these years. In fact, it caused Trev to smile wryly despite the situation. How Trev wished he'd never heard of a brig, himself. "The others are in town, on the docks, I guess. Getting supplies," He shrugged. "I don't know when they'll be back, but we've got to hurry and get Cali and Iole off the ship before they do." He straightened, folding up the rough-cut square of canvas that he'd freed from the main portion. It was big enough to be a tablecloth for a small table for two, so he figured it should surely be big enough to use as a sling and maybe a few bandages.

As for 'what happened', Trev drew a slow breath in as he tried to figure that out for himself. "I'm still not sure." He admitted, moving toward the door that would take them down below. "Shhh," He added with a finger held to his lips, just before opening the door to the crew's quarters. Scar and Grisly were still snoring across from each other, cards strewn on the table between them. Their hands were tied behind their chairs. He took a quick glance back toward Nal, to see how he reacted to that sight.

"Here.." He stopped, not at one of the bunks, but at a small pile of things shoved off in a corner. A blanket, a few items of clothing, and a few miscellaneous other things tucked into the pile. Trev dug out his cleanest shirt and trousers and offered them to Nal. "You must be freezing in that, and besides, it's better not to leave a trail of puddles behind." He kept his voice to a whisper, worried about waking the two crewmen. "The girls are just through the door." He added, nodding toward it. Trev glanced at the slumbering pair, then back to Nal. "They shouldn't wake up, but.. be quiet, just in case." He cautioned. Of course, Nal was also welcome to remain in his cold, wet clothes and follow Trev, but he figured he'd be more comfortable if he changed.

Leaving it up to Nal what he would choose to do, Trev passed through the doorway to rejoin Iole and Cali. "Hey," He came to the bars, kneeling on the floor across from Iole. "How is she?" He whispered, passing her the folded cloth. "I hope this'll work. I can cut it however you need me to. Also.. Nal's here." He added with a small smile, hoping the news might bring her some relief.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

The Last Time – Part 2



Unalmis Raxëlilta. A brief FLASHBACK – Late summer. More than 5 years ago approx.
with Trevadir and Devedir Thormaetha. A Harlond Inn.

He returned the wave, in lieu of a vocal greeting. For almost immediately the news was announced. This was Trev’s father, sat with him. That explained the familiar feeling, the eerie resemblance. And his best friend’s undeniable excitement. ‘I always said he’d come back. I told you, didn’t I ? He’s really here !’ Trev’s joy was bordering on contagious, and Unalmis, though stunned, was all too aware of why it was such a significant moment for his friend, his brother. He smiled in a show of support for Trev as he hovered at the point of taking up a seat himself.

Something kept Nal from sitting down. Perhaps an odd sensation that he would be intruding ? He’d seen this same unrestrained joy abounding in his friend, every time that the sailor had come for a visit. And he’d seen the heart wrenching dejection when that same sailor left again, or failed to show up when he was expected. Maybe it was that mere nine months of maturity which the Ranger held over his friend, or maybe it was simply because his own estranged mother had never bothered to visit, even once .. but still, he knew. What it was like to yearn for a parent at the same time as resent them for their abandonment. He understood. His own father had of course just finally, recently, but undoubtedly sobered up. So in the months since, Nal had been forced to bite his lip, belatedly, every time it registered that he’d told Trev what he and his own father had done together this week. How great it was. What they had talked about. What they had planned … Now . clearly, it was Trev’s turn. So he smiled to see the reunion. His brother deserved this. It was good. It was all too rare. To see Trev so happy. He wanted to believe that .. maybe .. it would be different this time for his brother. As it had been for him ..


“Oh, you know,” he replied to the sailor’s courtesy. Before realising that no, of course the man could not have any idea, .. of all that had happened since they’d last seen each other. About Ryndir. And .. everything .. “Good, sure,” the lying came more easily the more times he said it. “Wow. It’s been a while.”

A further glance toward Trev, summoned back the instinctive grin, at observing his brother so easily, simply happy. It had indeed been a while. After everything .. But before he could decide quite how awkward he felt, standing at the chair, Devedir made with a kind offer. To help them upon their adventure. Because obviously Trev had told his father all about that.


“I’m fairly sure that Harlond is about as close as any ship could get already, to where we’re headed,” he shrugged, and avoided his friend’s eye. It felt like a betrayal, even as he felt the words leave his mouth and imagined how they’d fall about Trev’s ears. To not encourage this strange man to stay and spend every moment that he could, or would, with Trevadir ? Was that unkind ? It was an instinctive relief, to have a bonafide excuse to not board another ship. After the last one .. and the one before .. no; even the thought of ships made him uncomfortable right now. He had no glad memories of ships.

Of course, they hadn’t quite decided, yet, not officially, to start looking at the nearest Beacon. The missing Guard who they had decided to go seeking for had been due at one of the more mid-mountain outposts. But sailing west would then mean traipsing further inland on foot after, to even come close to the heights; whereas Lossarnach would be much closer for a starting point .. Was he making excuses now ? Why ? He could almost see the question in his friend’s face. Or he feared that he would, if Trev could draw his attention away from his father for even a second.


“It’s kind of you though, of course, to offer,” he admitted. “We don’t have to leave immediately ..” he added, efforts to compensate for the guilt he felt in refusing .. were not entirely untrue. Cadil was still obtaining supplies for them, the soldier’s particular area of expertise. But where the Ranger – trainee - would normally fall in and discuss their plans merrily, there was always the chance that a parent would try to discourage the entire excursion. Trev would never have told GrammyU what they were planning, of course. But he’d clearly told his father, in probably no time at all. And Nal had only told .. well, Trev. And Cadil of course. Oh and Cali .. but not entirely on purpose in the last case. Their sister had a way of … oh ! Which reminded him. The gifts which their sister had pressed into his possession .. one for each of them. He’d been dying to show Trev the sword, which Cali assured him that Ryn had made himself. But there was also the flute ..

Right now, he knew that none of it would be even remotely interesting to Trev. And, in his shoes, he could hardly blame him either. At least they might both have a father back in their lives now. Then it would be better. Surely.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem - Part 64


Unalmis Raxëlilta, come to the ‘Wingolost’ and Trevadir.
Anchored out of sight of nearby Harlond harbour. On the last day of the Autumn Festival, last year.

It made him feel better, to have the knife at hand. The whole ‘being on a ship again’ thing .. Unalmis could feel the unease begin to surround him like an encroaching fog. And this was Dev’s ship. No help would be available from Swan Knights here then. But the girls were here, apparently. Not back at the Chandlery as he had suspected. Why were they here ?

‘Passengers ?’ his brother queried, almost as though he knew that the ranger had nearly said another word, beginning with the letter ‘P’. Unalmis occupied himself in wondering why the rest of the crew would gather supplies so far from where the ship was docked. Was that a lie ? Had Trev just lied to him ? Was he lying about the girls even being on the ship ? A very disgruntled part of Nal’s mind was troubling over not only why Iole and Cali would be on the ship but why Trev was so keen to have them off it. Unless his brother knew full well what he wasn’t saying. That his father’s crew were pirates. But .. Trev clearly also counted himself as a part of the crew ..


‘I’m still not sure,’ Trev had admitted, although whether that had been in relation to what a brig was, or what had happened .. Unalmis did not have time to venture a guess. He was being directed to follow .. further into the belly of the ship. Was this a trap ? Was he being ridiculous ? How could this be dangerous and also a place that his brother had willingly stayed since the last time they had seen one another ? A frown settled on the Ranger’s face, thankfully behind his friend, as he almost begrudgingly followed where Trev led. One hand, still clutching his wrecked knife, felt for the side of the staircase, and the other, empty, did the same.

It was narrow. It was close. The creaking was beginning to get to him, and Nal paused a moment, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before recognising that he could not just stay .. where he was stood. The below opened out of course, into a wider space, to his relief. Until a ‘shh’ and the sight of bound men, slumped at their chairs, sleeping. By the tree ! What was going on here ?! All the questions which he wanted to ask were huddled back behind the understanding .. that they needed to keep quiet. So. That was the pair who had been ‘dealt with’. Confusion was clearly etched upon Nal’s face. Was this all a ruse ? Were the men only pretending to be asleep ? He deviated in pursuit of his .. very estranged friend, and dared a step closer to the snoring twosome, to better inspect that they were really tied up, that they were really even sleeping …


Trev’s generosity, or was it now insistence, that Unalmis change out of his wet clothes, gathered the trespasser toward what was undeniably as he’d been led to believe. Dry clothes, Trev sized clothes. This was where his brother slept. In a cabin littered with bunks. He and .. the rest of the crew .. The need for silence was infuriating ! There was so much he needed to know, and wanted to ask. It was making him more impatient than it was wise to be, under the circumstances. What was going on here ?!

In the end it was Trev’s remark about leaving a trail of wet puddle behind him, which convinced Unalmis to comply, where he might else have protested, albeit of course .. frustratingly quietly. With a nod, he accepted the offer of the wardrobe change, and gestured for his brother to go on, where he clearly was headed, without a need to wait. Whatever was behind that door, whether it was the rest of the crew, or who knew what else .. the Umbarian perhaps ? Or even ‘Rip’ .. nothing seemed impossible at this point … Unalmis took that brief time he was left alone, to change clothes more urgently than maybe he ever had before, and try swiftly to think what he was doing here. The first time he heard voices from the adjoining room, he’d been wrestling with clingy sodden clothes. But the second time, he heard it. Not only his brother’s voice, but his sister’s as well ! Celebrating seemed rather inappropriate, but he did lay down the knife for a moment, and finished changing before he picked it up again. And went to explore what was in whatever a brig actually was.

---

Iole Ishen in the Brig of the ‘Wingolost’. With Cali, Trev and Nal.
Reunited. On the last day of the Autumn Festival, last year.

As Cali started to come back unto herself, Iole left the distraction of boiled water for a moment. Unwilling to risk scolding them both else. “You’re back,” she celebrated, as her sister began trying to sit up more soundly. “Careful ..” One arm reached out uselessly in alarm, and then lowered as the other spoke. Spoke sense this time ! “Well, it’s bigger than a barrel,” she answered, with a glance about them, and a small sigh. “Pirate ship,” she whispered then, and pointed toward the door to indicate they weren’t alone.

She wasn’t expecting for Trev to return to them in just that moment exactly ! But he was met by a faint smile, in spite of the still dire circumstances. “I don’t know. How are you feeling now, Cali ?” the question was directed to her sister, but blue eyes did not leave their brother. Until he handed over the freshly obtained canvas.


“Trev is helping us,” she narrated, rather unnecessarily now, of course. But then her closest hand caught against the floor as their saviour shared his latest news. “Is he .. ?” she began, but never reached the asking whether their other blood sibling was hurt or caught as well, or .. who knew what he might be up to really ? She had thought he’d gone to the fayre .. But then she caught sight of Nal in the doorway, his hands full of wet clothing and a broken knife.

“You seem to have become a little lost .. ” Brown eyes considered the confines of the girls’ enclosure, mostly because it was easier than becoming distracted by any of the others who were inescapably present.

“Found,” Iole corrected him quietly, and hurriedly bundled the canvas as well as she could through the bars.

“Didn’t fancy leaving this where it might be noticed before we’re done,” Nal then shrugged, and laid his wet bundle down in a corner of the room.

“Shhh ..” Iole raised her finger to her lips and motioned for the Ranger to come closer. To where they were all now huddled. “We have to get out of here .. and the crew ..”


Unalmis stiffened but managed to not turn and pointedly regard Trev at the word. Still Iole saw the motion, and paused in her speech to look down unhappily at her lap.

“Any luck finding the key ?” she asked, before making clear that she was asking Trevadir. “I mean, … I don’t know if that will fit in the lock ..” she nocked her head slightly in Nal’s direction.

“Well, how many people does it take to sail a ship this size anyway ?” Unalmis put in, seemingly off topic. As he crouched down on the balls of both feet. The blunt knife tapped an idle test against the cell bars, “I’m just thinking. We don’t need to panic about getting them out before the rest show up, if we can simply sail the ship away from where they’ll expect to find it. Maybe down to Pelargir, where we can report the pirates and have super help getting the girls loose. There’s three of us to manage it and ..” Iole raised three fingers on one hand, confused, as he spoke, and glanced at Cali with a dubious eye. How bad was their brother’s math skills ?

“It would take longer to get Cali to a healer if we do that ..” was all she said aloud though. “And, well, it wouldn’t be theft or something would it, to do that ? Stealing a ship ?” she frowned. It would be just like their luck to find their freedom, only to be arrested for stealing a pirate ship, of all things ! “I guess it might buy us a little time, but .. there are still two of them on board. And the rest would probably make off who knows where in the meantime. What do you think Trev ?”

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie
"The Last Time"

|
Trevadir & Dev
At the White Kraken Inn

“Wow. It’s been a while.”

The words were, of course, true. Trev couldn't deny that it had been nine years since his father had made an appearance in his life. And while he had every right to be angry with him for that, he was too delighted by his return to think of being bitter at him for leaving.

Dev, meanwhile, merely nodded. "It has," He agreed. This was strange. Very strange, actually. The last time he had seen these two, they had been such little kids. He was surprised Trev even remembered him, much less recognized him.

"You know, there's enough chairs if you wanna sit," Trev laughed, motioning invitingly for his brother to sit down. But his friend's decline of his father's excellent offer brought a confused frown to Trev's face. What did he mean, that this was as close as any ship could get to where they were headed? "Huh?"

"Oh?" Dev cast a questioning glance at his son, then back to his friend. "Sorry, Trev gave me the impression that your destination was Dol Brannor?"

"Yeah, I thought it was?" Trev agreed in puzzlement, without it ever occurring to him that Nal might have reasons he did not want Dev to know this. "Wouldn't it be closest to go to Linhir to get there? I thought I'd have to use my ferry fare, but if Dad can take us, then we can keep that for spending money." He explained his brilliant scheme proudly. "Right?"

"Very smart," Dev smiled. "There's some good shops in Linhir, I think.." He mentioned. "Of course, if you're investigating some ranger business, you probably won't have much time to go shopping." He shrugged. "But, I can get you there much quicker than any ferry."

A server came with the food that he and Trev had ordered. Dev glanced at his son's friend. "Would you like anything, Unalmis? I'm buying, so feel free to order what you like." He offered. "It's not every day that an occasion like this arises," He added with a look toward Trev. He smiled slightly at him. "I can't get over how much you've grown up.. both of you. I remember babysitting you," He added to Unalmis. Though he didn't add that he'd found them both extremely irritating.

"Do you still like to fish, dad?" Trev spoke up, eager to find something that they might be able to do together. "I remember you teaching me how to put a worm on a hook," he grinned. "And we'd go digging in the mud to find more,"

"I do, yes." Dev answered with a slow nod. "And you?" he turned the question to Nal. "If you'd like, I could teach you two how to catch deep sea fish." He offered. "It's a bit more exciting than fishing in the Anduin, but you'd have promise to pay attention and do as you're told." He warned, with a look at Trev. "No rocking the ship, or falling in." He added, referring to that time when Trev was little.

"I'm fifteen now, Dad," Trev rolled his eyes with a little laugh at what he supposed was a bit of teasing from his father. "I'm not gonna fall in or anything. And anyway, I know how to swim now." He added proudly. "I'm not a dumb little kid anymore." No, he was not a dumb little kid, that was sure... he was a dumb teenager.

---

Carpe Diem
|
Trev & Cali
On the pirate ship, Wingolost (anchored out of sight and downriver from Harlond)
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

"Back?" Cali questioned in a murmur, looking around them. They were in some sort of prison? She eyed the bars in front of them, trapping them in... wherever they were. Iole's comment about a barrel reminded her about the incident, and Cali shivered slightly as she looked down at her arm again, while Iole explained where they were in two simple words. Pirate ship. The words made her breath catch in her throat, and she looked up at her sister again, eyes widening slightly before she looked at those bars anew.

The walls on either side of them were solid wood, apparently the inside of the hull of the ship, or whatever you call it. She wasn't familiar with the proper terms, but she could see by the way they tapered together until the point where they met, that they were probably at one end of the ship. Opposite the pointed wall, there was a long wall of a different sort spanning the width from one side to the other, closing off the space to turn it into a cell. This wall was made of bars, vertically spaced roughly six inches or so apart, so that only an arm might be able to reach through, and little else. There were also horizontal bars running across these for extra strength and support. She guessed those to be around two feet apart, maybe less. So, even if it were possible to bend the vertical bars to create a bigger gap, the horizontal crosspieces would prevent anyone from being able to climb through there, unless they were very small. At a glance, the wall looked impenetrable. But Cali shifted her position to try and look a bit closer.

At that very moment, the last person she expected to see, suddenly walked in. Cali's attention snapped to the door, then her eyes went round in surprise at the sight of their long-lost blood brother. Well, maybe he wasn't exactly lost in the strictest sense of the word, but he may as well have been... "Trev?" She breathed out, almost as if wondering if this was some sort of dream.

He was beyond relieved to see Cali looking more alert, and no longer in that frightening state of unconsciousness. Even if it did hurt to see her face all bruised up like that, he didn't let on. "Hey," He managed a weak smile at his other sister. "Don't worry, I'm working on getting you out of here." He promised, although he couldn't quite hide the worried look in his eyes. Because, by now, he was getting quite worried. He couldn't find the key anywhere, and that didn't make any sense. They had to have it somewhere, right? But where?

Nal was soon to catch up, and it seemed almost as natural as it always used to be. The group was together again, just like old times. Except.. for one. Cali tried not to think about that, but it was impossible not to. Still, despite how normal it seemed, at the same time, Nal's appearance was almost as surprising as Trev's had been. Because while she had certainly not expected to see Trev, here of all places, it did at least make some sort of sense. She knew he had been on a ship all this time, after all. But Nal... how did he get here? She hadn't imagined he would venture to step on board a ship ever again.

"Oh.. right." Trev answered Nal's explanation about the bundle of wet stuff. "It's fine there," He shrugged, before Iole's 'shhh' silenced any further idle talk. Yes, getting that door open was the most important thing to focus on right now. Sadly, he shook his head in answer to her question about the key. "I've searched everywhere I can think of," He let out a frustrated huff of breath. "I don't know what to do." And time was running out, but he didn't add that part.

Nal's proposal stopped him from saying anything else, as he blinked at the ranger. "Umm, no... we'd need at least like, fifteen people just to manage a skeleton crew," He estimated. "I'd say.. absolutely no less than ten?" He wasn't entirely certain, as they'd never had to do that before. But he was quite certain that three people couldn't manage it. Then he glanced at Nal questioningly, just as Iole was also doing the same. Three? "Um, you do realize that you can't really count Iole in that anyway? I mean, she can't really help do anything like that, until we get them out." He pointed out. "Besides..." He hesitated, his gaze drifting briefly toward Nal's shoulder. The one that had been hurt. He had no idea if it was still a problem or not, but he decided not to mention it. "Iole's right," He concluded instead. "It would take longer to get Cali to a healer." He nodded in support of Iole's words. In fact, his pulse sped up with anxiety at the mention of reporting anything to the guards. Seriously? Was Nal actually thinking of reporting Trev? Turning him over to the guards? He must know.. they must all know.. right? That Trev was wanted. That to turn him over would be about the same as dooming him to an execution...

He glanced over at Nal, wondering.. but he couldn't bring himself to ask. He cleared his throat awkwardly, instead. "So, yeah.. I think it'd be a bad idea to try and steal the ship." Besides, he could only imagine the punishment he might receive if they did that, and his father ever caught up with him. He wasn't terribly eager about what would happen to him after this, but he also couldn't let any harm come to his friends. His sisters. So he was willing to take whatever punishment came of it. "We just have to find the key," He insisted, pacing down to one end of the room and back. "Problem is, I don't know where else to look for it." He huffed. "I mean, I thought.. I thought Dev always kept it on him, but it must be on board somewhere, because how else could they have got you two in there?" He gestured toward the girls. "I mean, I guess I could look in the captain's quarters, but..." He almost wanted to cringe at the thought of breaking into his father's cabin. He was growing frustrated, feeling helpless and anxious, and he had no idea how much time was left.

"You won't find the key," Cali spoke up quietly, while her uninjured hand tentatively explored her bruised face, with a light touch. "I mean, I doubt you will." She amended with a slight wince. While they had been discussing all of this, she had slowly sat up and began inspecting the door a little more closely. In particular, the lock. "They don't need the key unless they want to unlock it."

"What?" Trev blinked at her, surprised to hear her telling him this, when she'd only had a brief look at it. He'd spent more time than he could count in that cell.

"It's a very clever design," Cali went on. "I've only seen it a few times. It's self-locking," She explained, indicating the lock on the door. "You just swing the door shut, and it locks because of a tiny lever inside the lock. Only using the key can push the lever down to allow it to open. Or, I suppose a very skilled lockpicker could do it, but I don't think any of us have that sort of skill," She added with a glance at Trev.

He shook his head, frowning. "No.." He confirmed quietly, wishing that he did have those skills. The realization of what she'd just said was a little startling. It occurred to him that in all the time he'd spent in there, he'd never even paid attention to the part when they locked him in. Often, he'd been flung into the cell so roughly, the door had clanged shut before he even managed to look up again. Other times, he'd been barely conscious. But he said nothing about that, now. "So.. if they didn't need to have the key to lock you in there..." The realization hit him. "Dev must have it." His throat felt dry. Yes, that must be it. The captain wouldn't trust anyone with the key, so he'd keep it on himself. He felt every bit of hope that may have begun to stir inside of him, suddenly sink down to his feet. "Which means.." He didn't want to say it.. he couldn't say it. He'd have to get the key from his father. But how?

Unaware of the inner panic growing inside her prodigal brother, Cali stared thoughtfully at the door for a long moment, one hand lightly touching her head where it hurt the most. The door was made the same as the rest of the wall it was part of; strong metal bars. Both vertical and horizontal. But it had its weak spots. She finished what Trev had begun saying, "Which means, we have to find another way to get this door open." She looked at him, then at Nal. "Well, don't just stand around looking helpless," She instructed them. "You need to find something long enough to use as a lever, which'll also be strong enough not to break in the middle when you put pressure on one end. And something to act as a fulcrum, roughly this high," She added, at a guess, putting her hand out to the height she thought would work. "Do you have anything like that on board?" She asked Trev.

He stared blankly at her, then slowly smiled. "Uh... I can look in the cargo hold?" He offered. It wasn't far, and he figured if there was anything like that in there, he'd find it.

"Well, go then." She waved her left hand as if to shoo him, although she was half-smiling. As Trev nodded and hurried out through the door again, Cali let herself sag slightly against Iole's side. Her head hurt, and she felt unpleasantly weak and still rather drowsy. But at least she wasn't still in and out of a daze, like before. Everything that had happened was beginning to come back to her, and she remembered... the gate. Rip. Throwing her brother's work out into the dust, to be trampled by any horse or oxen or whatever came through the gate. Or taken by any random passing traveler. Or Rip. The thought that he might have it now... that sickened her. "I don't feel well," Cali muttered, for Iole's ears alone.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

The Last Time – Part 3


Unalmis Raxëlilta. A brief FLASHBACK – Late summer. More than 5 years ago approx.
with Trevadir and Devedir Thormaetha. At the White Kracken Inn.

Unalmis broke into a smile, more out of instinct than want, when Trev pointed out there were seats enough for him to sit too. To join them. Still he did not sit. The matter of their destination had thrown up confusion, for all three, and so he hesitated, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Dol Brannor ? Why and when had it ever occurred to Trev that they were heading for Dol Brannor ? Unalmis had only ever mentioned a problem at one of the beacons … without having to say which. In fact he had not found cause to clarify which one, because his brother had outright said that he’d already bumped into the beacon guard’s fiancée personally and she had told Trev everything.*

But he did not look to correct his brother, not in front of his father. And especially since that same brother and his estranged father started with concocting a plan for them to spend more time together. The Ranger trainee slowly began to comprehend what he thought had happened here. Trev clearly wanted an excuse for his father to plausibly go in the same direction that they were headed. And so he had told the tale in such a way it had sounded they ought start their investigation at Dol Brannor. Where, to be fair, a ship could see them toward far more swiftly than their feet might take them.


At that point he did sit down, not that either father or son likely would likely have noticed. They were too busy speaking of spending money and shopping out in Linhir now. Although Devedir did at least acknowledge that such recreations weren’t exactly Ranger business. In truth, none of this was officially Ranger business. Any more than the young Ranger had any business involving an underaged civilian, if it truly had been. Nal had overheard some rumour about one of the beacons sentries not sending their report in. And with everybody official so caught up in other things .. nobody had apparently ordered an investigation into it. The Captain had gone missing, and the drill sergeant was overworked. He’d knocked on doors at HQ without answers until he decided that it might be time to show a little initiative. And then there was .. well, in all honestly, he was sick and tired of Trevadir being so down on him for enlisting at all. After what had happened to Ryndir. His remaining brother had called him an idiot, or words to that effect, on a good many occasions since. And Iole assured Nal it was only because Trev was worried something would happen to him too .. but .. what was he supposed to do ? Let the sorts of people who had been responsible .. for that .. just get away with it ? Besides, the last time he had ended up almost killed had started at home, in Gondor, in his family home in fact. There was clearly no ‘safe’ place, or would not be, so long as Gondor’s enemies prevailed. And the only way to make it safer, for everybody, was to meet those enemies in whatever means or form was called upon.

With his trainer – his latest trainer anyway. Several had already been reassigned in their turn, to Osgilliath, or Cair Andros, or Ithilien even ..- his trainer had left him with clear instructions to do something ‘productive’ before they saw each other again. And as far as Unalmis could figure, a mountain trek was new ground he had not yet any experience in, and it was a relatively safe option to explore. Sergeant Pele had told them how exciting mountain climbing could be. So inviting Trevadir along allowed his friend to get out of going to visit grandparents, which he had reportedly found annually dull. It had been Nal’s unspoken hope to show Trevadir just how safe Ranger business was most of the time. It did not hurt that it would allow for the two of them to spend some time together too.


Unalmis had failed his end of year exams last summer, on purpose, to repeat the year at school with Trev, who was that slight bit younger and clearly put out at being left behind. But that had all gone to a mess with what happened in Umbar, and then recovering after and … Ryndir … Nal had been off school for several months as a consequence. Then Nardy had come all the way out from Lond Col to help Nal recuperate from his injury. And, in between teaching his cousin to ride (as a reward for doing his therapy exercises), and other necessary skills pressed upon him for growing up, the Belfalasian cousin had made Unalmis re-sit the exams and finish school. Impressing upon him that his family could not really afford for him to idle any longer, with studies he clearly had no need to learn over again. All of this meant that he could now no longer be with Trev at school and a large part of Nal had been .. begrudgingly glad at that. For a chasm had quietly begun to grow between the two friends over the summer. As the elder was finding more and more to talk about with his Ranger veteran father, and following in Ryndir’s footsteps … the younger was … still stuck in school and then, during their time together .. hearing all about things he showed no interest in hearing. This excursion to the beacons, a safe but fun adventure they could share together, had been meant to solve all of that. At least that had been the plan.

And now here they were, with Trev’s father thrown into the mix. And Nal had yet to break the news that he had brought Cadil along as well, because .. well, he wasn’t sure how his brother was going to react to that. But he liked Cadil. He couldn’t help it. The young soldier had been kind to him, when enlisting, without Ryndir there, had proven far more lonely than he ever had imagined. It wasn’t like he was replacing his lost friend. And Trevadir had never quite accused him of trying to do so. It was just .. awkward.


The aroma of food, now arrived at their table, pulled Unalmis from his perplexion of what to do now. Awkwardly, he found Trev and his father now regaling one another with fishing memories. They showed no sign of even having noticed his preoccupation with concerns. Any more than he had noted Devedir’s invitation to join their dinner. But then arrived the second offer .. deep sea fishing ? They were still determined to go sailing ..

Unalmis got to his feet, almost stumbling over his seat as his brother declared that he was ‘all grown up’ now. Maybe that was it. Maybe this was what was always supposed to happen .. The thought of stepping back onto a ship again was the very last thing that Nal wanted to do right now. And the exhausting conversation he had already sat through had brought home just what Trev must have felt like to see Nal reconnecting with his own father this summer. He felt .. guilty, annoyed, horrified and resolved all at once. His friend wasn’t a dumb little kid anymore. After all they’d been through, none of them were any more. It was time to do the right thing, no matter how much his heart tugged at him to wait, stop, no ..


“Sounds like a fun time, I’m sure that you’ll have a fun time,” he backed up slowly, and the way his new shortsword caught against his chair as he tucked it back underneath the table, it served a reminder. “Maybe you can charm the fishes up out of the depths with this,” Nal caught the wrapped flute out of his small pack, and laid it before Trev on the table. “Cali told me to make sure you got it,” he shrugged as the offering rolled free of it’s wrappings. Both the messenger’s hands closed fingers and then re-opened, fleetingly, as the Ranger trainee backed away from the gift, and shouldered his bag again. There was no need to explain who had made the instrument. It was personal, and there had only ever been one amongst them who worked metal. No way any of them could have afforded to buy such a unique item. It was, as were most of their gifts to one another, homemade. In this case of course, Ryn-made.

“Cadil will be looking for me by now. Best you guys go .. do your .. fishing,” Nal gave his friend, his brother, all the reasons he could gift him with, to go, be with his own father, find his own way in the world .. as it had become increasingly clear they all must do. This was the right thing to do. It .. for some strange reason, felt like the opposite. But Trev would be fine. This was his father, after all. His father had come back .. to probably make up for everything. And as much as Nal knew that Devedir had failed on that score before, he also knew that sometimes .. it did happen. It had happened for him, after all. So, why not for Trev too ? “This is your time,” he bade his brother. “Go catch some wild tales and we’ll compare, back home. Later,” he smiled against every fibre of his being.


Somehow he made himself walk out of the inn, before Trev could tell him not to. Somehow he convinced himself this was best, for everyone. If he had known .. what would happen to his brother, that it would be the last time he would see him for more than five years .. he would tell himself he would have never let Trevadir go. But how could either of them have known what would come, before they found each other again, and how much they would each have changed by that time.


*** Trev had indeed heard from Amythist Nerennia that the beacon guard was missing from Dol Brannor as per This Post
while Nal had instead heard about a concern for the beacon guard out on the peak of Nardol, as per This post .

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem - Part 65



Unalmis Raxëlilta and Iole Ishen
Aboard the ‘Wingolost’ with Cali, Trev, and two unconscious pirates
Anchored beyond Harlond harbour. On the last day of the Autumn Festival, last year.

Unalmis resumed his full height, as first Iole and then Trev rebuffed his idea. Forgetting of course that they were unaware of Cadil being anywhere close by, which explained his counting, the two of them seemed to conclude that nothing he had to say was worth taking seriously. Which had never bothered him when they were children, but he had found did ring against his pride a little more now. Given all that had happened since. Not that there was any time to stop and reunite properly over all they had each experienced. Iole maybe had disapproved, out of some lasting grudge. For earlier that morning – was it really only such a short time ago as that ? Felt like years … they had quarrelled. But this was the first time Unlamis had seen Cali since she had been evacuated out to Belfalas. As for Trev. Wow. It had truly been a long time. Years. And yet, it felt like nothing had changed. At least, as far as his being an idiot was concerned.

There was, of course, a want to point out that while a skeleton crew of fifteen men might be required to sail a ship when it was out at sea, it would surely not require so many to let the same ship simply float down the Anduin. Not when all they’d need to do was raise the anchor, let the vessel take up the river’s current, and then drop the anchor once they got to the next settlement, where surely there would be people at hand to help them from that point. But Unalmis said nothing to defend his discarded idea, as the last thing he wished to start up now was an argument. It was a trial already to keep from saying all that he was thinking on a dozen other issues. Particularly when Iole. as always, concerned about them breaking some law. After what had happened at the Gatehouse, Nal could not deny, there was a chance he and Cadil were already going to be in a whole lot of trouble when they got home ! ‘Rip’ was bound to see to that ! But first they had to actually all get home.


“You’re the expert,” he shrugged, as Trev returned to the, apparently fruitless, endeavour of locating a key. Unalmis was just about to check with his brother whether he had already searched the two tied up crewmen in the next room, when Cali explained what their true dilemma was. As a Smith’s daughter, a smith’s sister, she obviously knew more about metal working than anybody else at hand. Not one of them doubted her suspicion then that Trev’s father had what they needed. Trev’s father, the captain of this ship, had the key. To the cell where the girls were locked up. Brown eyes blinked at the floor as he contemplated asking why on earth they didn’t just ask Trev’s father to let the girls go then … And was forced to face the fact of quite why nobody else was asking that same obvious question. Because Trev’s father was clearly involved in .. piracy … abduction … and Trev himself was .. here .. crew ? Raising that matter .. now .. would entirely derail all their efforts and getting the girls out of trouble must come first.


“I thought you were going to the fayre,” he said instead, to Iole, “Here,” the Ranger helped to flatten out the tarpaulin that his sister was struggling with. Without thanking him, Iole accepted the help. Though blue eyes met him briefly, before she stubbornly concentrated on cutting through the sail piece to form the shapes she’d need for a sling.

“I thought you didn’t care,” she muttered eventually, ignoring the tear that fell. A slight shake of her head failed to dispel it, and she raised her small chin defiantly. As if to dare anybody claim she was crying. Though of course she was.

“If I didn’t care, then why am I here, now ?” Nal put back to her, before he stunned at the mirror to his own father’s answer, on a different ship, some years now before. Cali’s summons to ‘don’t just stand around, looking helpless,’ stirred him into action moments later. A fulcrum .. a lever .. Trev left hastily to search the cargo hold and Unalmis urged himself to pull eyes away from his sisters. But first ..

"I left a lookout back on shore," he told them, now that Trev was not around to hear it. "We’ll hear if anyone approaches. He's keeping your broach safe and sound, C. For luck, or hope ..” With a wink, he left the girls to find comfort in one another. And then headed to help with a search that would delay still further any need to converse properly with his brother.


“He doesn’t want me,” Iole waited until Unalmis had followed Trev in leaving on a hunt, and then confided in Cali the cause of things, as far as she understood them. “I came home from Pelargir, and I told him about .. how I felt,” she clarified. If the kiss, years before had not given it away, she would be surprised. But still he had acted as though he thought she’d just been consoling him, back then. And she’d not argued the point .. because of how much of a mess he’d been .. back then. Years later, all the while that they’d been forced apart for the duration of the war, what had happened with the pirates in Pelargir … she had been alone. They each had. But when she had returned, to try and start a fresh new chapter of her life with the only person who had ever truly made her feel safe … he had looked at her like she was crazy. Her years of growing affection would be no sort of surprise to Cali of course. They had talked about it, countless times.
“He just wants to be friends. And if I hadn’t gotten so mad at him, and stormed off to the fayre, and bumped into … ” a quivering sigh shivered through the forlorn young woman. “None of this would ever have happened,” she lamented.

It took a further moment, a series of rather wet sniffs before Iole could pull herself together. “I’m sorry Cali. I .. I’ll make it better, I promise.” The canvas was in suitably smaller pieces by now. “At least we’re all together again. And .. and I’m going to try and fashion this bamboo and canvas into a sling for you,” Iole swallowed and sought to live up to the fragile promise. “Let’s be ready for when they come back with a way for us all to get out of here. Yes ?” she rallied her friend. With a means of them not sitting about looking helpless either. With a deliberate enunciation on the word ‘all’ ... She was not sure how at all yet, but the young woman did not intend to leave Trev here, not with the sort of people who did this to .. anyone.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

"The Last Time"
|
Trevadir & Dev
At the White Kraken Inn

Trev really couldn't believe that he was actually sitting here with his father. The whole thing seemed like an incredible dream. He kept half expecting to wake up and find his annoying little brother shaking him or whining about something or other. But Toby was away on the ferry by now, or he ought to be. So, Trev would get plenty of time to spend with his father, have an adventure with Nal, and still catch up to Toby as Grandfather's house, before Grammy ever knew he was 'missing'. And he'd threaten Toby with something or other, to keep him from talking. It was perfect.

It never once struck Trev as odd that his father had yet to even ask after his other child. In fact, he never even thought about the fact that a father who was interested in being in his son's life, should also be interested in the other, at least enough to ask if he had a son or daughter. Or if the child had even survived infancy. Since Dev had left them on the same day that his wife died in childbirth, without even learning the fate of the infant, it was unlikely he would know that. But Trev was too excited thinking about doing all the fun things he would do with his dad, and he didn't spare any thoughts toward his annoying kid brother. He was rid of him, that was all he cared about.

But he had not planned on being 'rid' of Nal. In fact, he had invited Nal to join them, more than once! So, when his chosen brother declared that Trev would have a fun time, he was a little disappointed. "You're invited too, Nal." He made sure to let him know.

Dev nodded his own agreement. "Certainly.. any friend of Trev's is welcome on my ship." He assured the youth, inwardly a bit disappointed that he seemed uninterested in joining his friend. Yet, he also felt that if he were to press any harder to convince him, that it might end up making them both a bit suspicious. So, he decided he may have to simply settle for one of them, and not both.

Trev, naturally, knew none of his father's ulterior motives, or he would have fled the inn right along with Nal. But he was only feeling confused that Nal was acting all... whatever. Like he didn't want to get involved? On one hand, Trev wanted his friend to be there, to be a part of this exciting moment in his life. His father had returned! That was a huge thing for Trev. He'd been waiting for this for most of his life. And why didn't Nal seem like he was all that happy for him?

Then, on the other hand, in some small way, perhaps Trev was feeling just a little smug. After all the times recently when Nal spoke about this or that thing he and his father were doing, and how they were spending all this time together... when Nal knew how much Trev longed to have that kind of chance to be with his own father. Now, his chance had finally come. What, could Nal not handle being on the other side of it?

His feelings were rather mixed, but they had always done everything together. Until... well. Until this year. When Nal took off on his own adventure, without inviting Trev. Then came home hurt, after nearly being killed. And then from there, it was like they just kept drifting further and further apart, and he didn't want that. But when his cousin came to live with him, and Nal ended up getting to learn and do all sorts of extra things, while Trev was forbidden to participate... that had hurt a bit. It wasn't easy, after so many years of having been practically inseparable from his blood brother, to be sent away by Nardy, told to go home and study, or to go off to school like he ought to, while Nal got to do other, more fun things. Without him. Well, if Nal didn't want to take him up on his invitation, then Trev decided he wouldn't feel bad about doing something fun without him, now. It was Trev's turn to get to do something exciting and new, while Nal got left behind.

His thoughts about that were interrupted, however, when a slim, cylindrical gift was presented to him. Surprised, Trev stared mutely as the silver-colored device came free of the cloth in which it had been wrapped. Stunned, Trev moved the cloth the rest of the way off of it, and picked up the most beautiful flute he'd ever laid eyes on. A lump caught in his throat as he lifted it, almost reverently, from the table. Cali had sent this to him? He could only guess that it had been hidden somewhere, probably meant for his birthday, but... then he'd died. But now, Cali must have found it, and made sure that it got to him. He wanted to thank her, but of course, she wasn't there.

Turning it over in his hands, slowly. Examining every bit of it. Tears came into his eyes as he caught sight of a small, thin engraving on it. It was their symbol. The emblem, with all their initials superimposed over the other, entwined together just as their lives had always been. Almost as if summoned from the depths of his memory, Trev recalled something from several months before... the tragedy. Ryn had asked to have a look at the flute Trev had made from a reed. He'd borrowed it for a couple of days, then gave it back, refusing to give any explanation. It all made sense, now. And Cali had sent this extraordinary gift to him, almost as if she knew that he'd need some reminder of why he shouldn't just abandon his friends.

In that moment, Trev thought of the blood brother they had lost, and what he might say about this whole situation. It wasn't exactly fair to Nal, was it? Nal had told Trev things about his misadventure, and how awful it had been. It was no wonder his friend didn't want to step onto another ship, even for something fun like fishing. Trev's previous smugness about getting to do something without Nal, vanished. He shouldn't feel like that, right? Nal was his friend. His brother. Trev had skipped out on visiting his grandparents just so that the two of them could do something together again, to reconnect after whatever wedge had begun to work its way between them. He would simply tell his father that he and Nal had planned this adventure together, so they should plan on doing the sea fishing after that.

In that moment, Dev, who was watching his son closely, felt a bit of concern that the draw of his friendship would be too strong for the lure of spending time with his long-lost-father. Of course, he had no idea how long the boy had yearned for this day to actually come. Still, he saw on Trev's face that he was torn between two choices.

Then, Nal declared that Cadil was waiting for him. Cadil... Nal's new friend from the rangers. Nal had been going on and on about this friend of his. Practically raving about the guy, although Trev had yet to meet him. Trev looked up from the flute in his hands, to stare after Nal as the ranger bid him to have a fun time fishing, and bring back 'wild tales'. Little did he know just how wild those tales would end up being...

"Yeah.. we will. Thanks." Trev smiled back at his departing friend. "And you'll tell me all about whatever you find at that beacon, right? You two don't need some civilian tagging along, anyway." He shrugged as if he didn't care. He'd made it plenty clear to his friend that he had no desire to join the rangers and get himself killed like Ryn had been. Even if the eldest of the trio of 'brothers' had taught the younger two many of the skills he'd learned in his training period, it simply wasn't what Trev wanted to do with his life. "I'll see you later. And tell Cali... thanks." He added. It must have been difficult for her, in her state of utter grief, to come across something made by Ryn, and give it away to the one whom it had been meant for. He truly appreciated that, and he would cherish it. He couldn't wait to return and give her a hug for this, but for now, he'd settle for having Nal pass on his thanks, in case he saw her first.

As Nal removed himself from the scene, Trev pushed down a sense of disappointment. To distract himself from feeling like he ought to go with Nal, he began admiring his incredible new instrument. He smiled to see the Dringolben emblem stamped into the metal on the inside of the flute's open end. He was going to try it out, but noticed that the mouthpiece was... in the wrong spot. In fact, it was a few inches longer than he thought it ought to be, and this puzzled him for a moment.

"Cali, hm?" Dev commented casually, unaware of the depths of feeling going on inside the young man. "Sounds like a girl's name. Girlfriend?" He guessed, with a nod toward the flute. A rather expensive-looking flute, he noticed.

"Sister," Trev replied absently, without thinking. He looked up from the flute, deciding to figure out the discrepancy in it's length, later. He smiled. "So... deep sea fishing? What sort of things do you catch out in the deep sea?" He wondered, wide-eyed at the notion of such a thing.

Dev tilted his head slightly, questioningly. Sister? Whatever sibling Trev would have, they would be younger than him, he knew. So how could she afford such a fancy item as that flute? He decided that topic might bear inquiring into more, later. For now, he began to regale the young man with exciting fishing tales, telling the boy about some of the strange fishes he'd encountered while at sea. Whatever it took to make him forget about joining his friends, and to instead make him eager to come aboard Dev's ship.

It was hardly a surprise, then, that hardly an hour after parting from Nal, that Trev stepped on board the swan-shaped ship his father claimed as his own, with the promise that Dev would drop him off at his parent's house after their fishing trip. No one would even notice he was missing, Dev assured him, and they'd have a great time together...

(end of these flashbacks)

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Carpe Diem
|
Trev & Cali
On the pirate ship, Wingolost (anchored out of sight and downriver from Harlond)
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

While Iole and Nal were discussing going to the fayre and whether Nal cared or not, Cali shifted so that she could lean against the wall. But the news that there was also a lookout was surprising, and the next bit had her raise her head. Her broach! She'd assumed that she would never see it again, and it was indeed a tremendous relief to hear that it had been recovered, kept safe by some friend of Nal's. "Thank you," She said softly, as he was leaving. She couldn't even begin to verbalize how relieved she was to hear that her most cherished possession was not lost forever, or taken as a prize by their common enemy.

Her attention diverted, soon, toward her sister, as Iole informed her of her distress. As if this was the most normal reunion between the girls. As if it were any other day, and they were simply sitting together chatting in the treehouse, or the library. Just like they always used to do. Her head still didn't feel too good, but it didn't take a lot to put together what her sister was saying. Cali was, likely, the only other person who knew about the other girl's crush on Nal, so she didn't need her full focus to figure out why Iole was upset about this.

"Iole, this wasn't your fault." Cali told her quietly, reaching out a hand to take her sister's. "If it hadn't been us, it probably would've been someone else." She pointed out. "And who else has such great brothers?" She paused and closed her eyes, swallowing the lump that rose up as she mentioned brothers. She briefly remembered the dagger waving around in her face. Ryn's dagger. The brother who could never again protect her... but she struggled to push that away and come back to the present. "Someone else might not have been so lucky to have people who care, who'd show up so quickly to rescue us." She smiled faintly. It almost seemed unreal how quickly Nal had arrived, in fact. "Don't worry, Iole." She squeezed her hand lightly before letting go so Iole could work on the sling. "We're strong and capable of so much more than you might believe, Iole. Look at us," She smiled weakly. "I'm awake now because of you. If not for you, I'd still be in a daze. And we'll get out of here in just a few minutes. We're.. together again. Those things are what matters. So yes," She smiled at her. "Let's be ready to get out of here as soon as they get this door open."


After leaving from the others, Trev tiptoed past the sleeping crewmen and hurried to the cargo hold. Some sort of fulcrum? The only place he could think of to look, was right here. He looked around and tested out a few crates before finding one that looked about the right size. He looked up when he heard someone, but when he saw Nal, he relaxed. "I could use help moving this," He mentioned, with a motion toward the crate. It was about the right height that Cali had requested, but he'd already tested its weight. He could lift it with difficulty, by himself, or they could work together and carry it more easily.

Somehow, although there had never been any amount of awkwardness between them ever before, there was now. Trev didn't like it, and he wanted things to be back like they used to be. But he couldn't help thinking about the hurt he'd felt, that day when he'd heard that his best friend was 'done with him'. Abandoned to his fate. Trev... wanted it to be wrong. But after all this time... after all the years in which Nal had never once bothered to try and reach out to Trev, or to even talk to him when he was only a stone's throw away... the only reason Nal was here now was because of Cali and Iole. To save them. Not because he wanted Trev to come home. And he tried not to feel bothered by that, but he couldn't help it. And he also couldn't help but think about the last time he'd tried to come home. How he'd been left behind, that day.

"I saw your uncle, you know." The information slipped out before he quite realized he'd spoken. And then, of course, he had to follow up with something more about that. He glanced over at his one-time friend as he prepared to lift his end of the crate. "A few years ago." He added, for a little more clarification. He was all set to tell Nal all about his encounter with the long-lost uncle, when he realized that the other prodigal must have already returned home years ago by now. That was where he had been heading, back when Trev met him. "I guess he...already told you about that, though." Trev mumbled. He wanted to tell Nal so much more. How Dom had helped him. How he had convinced Trev that he could come home. How he'd trusted him to sail the ship, only to then leave without him. No, that had been Dev's doing, he reminded himself. But he often wondered what the ranger must have thought when Trev vanished. He wanted to assure him that it hadn't been done of his own accord. Maybe, if Nal was willing, he could pass on the message? But he was sort of... building up to asking. Because, as much as Trev wanted to come home with him, he was too afraid.

[Arnyn]

FYI @Lantaelen

Jade
January 26th - After taking her leave from the Hand's Abode, the morning after Lorcan's Demise
A warehouse near the docks, Harlond

Finding Serath was difficult. But not impossible if you knew where to look. Even a man like that needed to make sure the Hand could find him, if necessary. And, as keeper of the books... Jade knew all too well where to look.

She found the man at a warehouse rooftop in Harlond. Close enough to the docks to have a view of the warship. Of course. Serath was already zoning in on his target. So swiftly... There was a reason he was the Hand's ultimate weapon. But... since Serath was also a lone wolf... there were no guards at the door. No men she had to charm and pass through, to get to him. Which worked to her advantage.

The Hand's most feared assassin turned to her the moment she set foot upon the roof. Grey eyes settled on her like cold iron, sending a chiver down her spine. “Well,” he said boredly. “If t isn't the Hand’s Jewel."

“Serath.”

"I did not send for you."

“You never have," she agreed, walking up to stand beside him. “Congratulations, by the way.”

He did not ask why she offered such a thing. Either he could guess, or he did not care. It was probably both.

“For the Dimaethor contract,” she added after a moment.

Slowly, Serrath's cold eyes narrowed. “You read the ledgers.”

She shrugged. “It is literally my job,” she reminded him.

“And yet,” he said, as he deftly moved so she had to turn her back to the edge of the roof, "the question remains. I did not ask for you. So why are you here?”

Jade smiled faintly. “You wound me, Serath. I thought curiosity was allowed.”

“You do not do curiosity,” he half-sneered.

“No?” Her eyebrows lifted.

“No. You do profit,” he told her. “You do leverage. You do opportunity.” He stepped closer, forcing her closer to the edge while his hand closed roughly around her throat. “So tell me which one this is.”

Jade tried to swallow, all too aware of the dangerous drop just a foot behind her, but his grip was too tight. Still, she met his gaze without blinking. “I know the knight,” she whispered.

Serath’s mouth curved slightly. “Yes, I suspected as much.” He studied her face, and squeezed a little harder. “Did he warm your bed, Jade?”

Her shoulders lifted lazily. “Men do that sometimes,” she managed.

His expression remained flat. “And now that man has a price on his head. A very large one.”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“And you have come here despite having no role in the contract.” Serath tilted his head slightly, taking another half step forward, crowding her. “You are interfering?”

“I am - offering efficiency,” she countered, forced to move one foot slightly behind her, so his little forward lean didn't make her fall over and plummet to the stones below.

He almost laughed. “You?”

“Yes. Me.” Jade summoned all the bravado she had in the face of this cold-blooded killer, and tried stepping to the side. Surprisingly, Serath let go of her, and Jade took the opportunity to walk toward the roof's exit. He had scared her. And he knew it. But she put years of practice in faking the absence of fear to good use.
"You know how the Hand likes things done fast," she threw back over her shoulder, pausing halfway across the roof. "Your target is a knight. Not just some nobleman. Not just some politician. He is here aboard a warship." She gestured toward it, off at a distance. "You won't get easy access, just like that. He has men, trained, blooded, with real battle experience. They guard him. They would die for him."

Serath looked half-pissed and half-amused. "Then they will. Die for him."

Jade raised an eyebrow. "If you want to offer the Hand the results he has come to expect of you, you will need the information I can give you." Not waiting any longer, she headed back inside the warehouse. Off to one side was a small area which had been furnished with the bare minimum. A table, a chair. A couch. A small cabinet. A small brazier. She waited for Serath by the table, and only when he had her within sight, did she produce a bottle she had taken with her, as well as two identical cups.

"I do not drink," he informed her, bored.

"Then indulge me," she said emphatically, rolling her eyes before she poured the wine anyway. "One cup will not addle your senses," she added, as if she were speaking to a boy instead of a man.

Serath watched her every move like a hawk. When she took a cup in each hand, and offered him one, he reached for the other. His iron gaze now chained to her face. "You first," he said, his voice low and dangerous. And Jade knew, that if she did not drink, and if she did not drink deeply - that her life would be forfeit. Whether she was the Hand's favorite little Jewel or not. She lifted the cup he'd left her with, the one intended for him, and drank.

Serath watched every movement of her throat. And only when she had finished, did he lift his own cup. And drank from it himself.

While he did, Jade returned her cup to the table, pulled a handkerchief from her dark clothes and slowly wiped her mouth with it. She was good at slight of hand. Thank the Valar.

“When the reward looks like that..." she then started, "and after the first assassin's failure to deliver, the Hand will expect no less than your best. Fast. Undetected. A man, discovered dead upon his cot. With a cause of death that is impossible to place.”

Serath’s jaw tightened slightly. “You manipulate men for a living. I'm not one of your easy targets, Jade.”

“That is not why I am here,” Jade told him genuinely. “I believe you are a practical man? You know this will be challenging, yes? Even for you. Like you said up on the roof: the knight has warmed my bed. But," she continued, smiling slyly, "I have also warmed his.”

Silence stretched. Perhaps Serath was too proud to ask. Jade raised an eyebrow again. "Paper?" she prompted. "Something to write, perhaps?"

Serath watched her for a long moment. But finally, he broke, and retrieved what she had asked for from the small cabinet, rolling out a piece of parchment and pinning it down with two brass weights. His free hand gestured toward it. "Fine. Where is his cabin?"

Jade made a sound with her tongue. "Patience," she hissed, annoyed, as she drew a rudimentary sketch of the ship's layout, and described the way to the Captain's cabin.

Serath sipped his wine, intrigued. He leaned one hand on the table. “You have no reason to tell me any of this,” he murmured.

"We both serve the same man. Is that not reason enough?" she challenged him.

He glanced sideways at her. Mentally, she swore. For Jade knew it the moment their eyes met, with a clarity that had her envisioning her own death: cruel and swift. He was looking right through her. His voice was chilling. "You're lying."

She said nothing, and nothing short of absolute fear drove her to take a step back.

Instead of straightening, he swayed. Realization flickered across his face. “…you.”

Her throat was dry as dust. Jade swallowed and took another step back. Her heart was thundering high and hard in her chest.

Serath's hand moved toward the knife at his belt. But he was slow. Too slow. His fingers touched the handle, without him seemingly realizing that they did. That was the signal, wasn't it?

One of the brass paperweights crashed into his temple.

Crack.

Serath staggered. The paperweight rose again.

Crack.

He fell to one knee. Jade stood over him, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But... better that it's you."

The third blow dropped him completely. It was not the end. The brass weight rose and fell - again and again - until the feared assassin lay motionless on the floor, with nothing recognizable left of his face. The only sound in the silence that followed was her erratic breathing. This was madness. What had she done?

With shaking hands, she crouched beside the body. Rolled up his sleeve. She had to wait for the shaking to subside, before she used a hidden knife to strip a piece of skin from his forearm. She didn't know why, exactly, she needed to take it. She just felt that she should. The tattoo stared up at her. A black mark, inked into the flesh. The Hand's Last Word. Every single person in the organisation knew it. They all feared it. Only Serath bore it.

Jade wrapped the piece in cloth and tucked it into a hidden pocket. She wiped the blade clean upon the man's sleeve, rose to her feet and pulled up her hood. The game had changed now. It was quite possible that she'd made the biggest mistake of her life. For her life had just become infinitely more dangerous.

Ah, yes. That was why, of course. If word got back to the Hand about this body, bearing that mark, he would know Serath was dead. And Jade did not want the Hand knowing. She did not want him knowing at all. She poured the rest of the bottle's contents over the body, and grabbed the parchment to hold it over the brazier. The body caught fire almost as easily as the parchment had.

She did not linger to watch the show. Jade fled from the smell of cooking flesh, knowing she had to get as far away from this place, as fast as she could. For no one could ever find out about her presence here.

Even if it had been for just a moment... the Hand's favorite Jewel had slipped the chain.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem - Part 66



Unalmis Raxëlilta and Iole Ishen
FLASHBACK – Pelennor fields. (Much) earlier that day …

It was easy to lose herself on such a day. The sun was scarcely woken but already the sounds and scent of a fair enticed folk from their beds and all the way to explore the excitement. It was soon the harvest festival and as firm as city officials were about sweeping up streamers and litter in the seven circles, all could flock to the Pelennor fields with reckless abandon. Children of all ages would follow their noses and their curiosity toward the tents, some drawn to even spectate on the setting up of stalls and catch a matinee of some unrehearsed marvel this early. Iole preferred to linger in the throes of expectation, pregnant with the hope and quite determined to spoil no fun by sneaking a glimpse behind the curtain.

Dropping in a rather undignified fashion to her derriere, she found the grass sward of her choosing soft and springy, sheltered by a tree, and perfectly located to catch the flavour of the revelry unfolding. A drab and rather old fashioned grey dress pooled around her in repose, and she had only just begun to wish she had brought a picnic, or someone to share it with, when an apple dropped out of the tree above, and bounced against her covered shin. Grasping, instinctive, to harvest the gift, her pale blue eyes caught the movement of something else in the branches of her canopy.


Brown eyes gave away the otherwise tangle of limbs, even before Unalmis dropped, not unlike the apple, but fortunately landed not on her, but some safe distance away. He did not immediately rush to greet her, and the young woman could not help recall the last time they had seen one another. Tempted to hurl the apple back at his head, she relented, not wishing to waste the fruit.

“I did not know you were here,” she got up though, more apologetically than she had meant to, as though her mere presence was some offence to the world. The dark veil of hair swung heavily behind her, masking some of the clumsy rise back to her feet. As if he even cared. As if he even noticed.

“Sometimes I think, if they ever might show up, of all places, they might show up here,” the young man ran his tongue along the inside of one cheek, unbothered as it seemed as usual by any sense of propriety which might have unsettled his friend. “We always used to meet here,” he remembered.

“Those days are gone,” the phrase was one of Cali’s favourites, but Cali was not here to speak it, so her friend stood substitute and sad. Turning quite belated to find and trace the childish mess of letters initialled into the tree bark, Iole walked the memory in her mind. Of her friend’s voice. Of how it had sounded. But she had not seen Cali now since before the war. Nor Trevadir. They had all ended up elsewhere from where they had begun, and not all had returned. Only they two, in fact. So far … But here, here was where they had met, where they had come to play, where they came to remember … Ryndir. The only one of them who could not return, whether he wished it or not. And might be that was the problem.

Because Ryndir had been the leader, he had been the glue that held them fast together. Now that glue was gone and all the other pieces had drifted apart, unable to stick fast in the face of such an absence.


She had not even realised, until Unalmis had pointed it out, which tree her feet had taken her to. “Past and present can not co-exist,” she remembered her mother saying so. Yet she stood here, where they had stood. When they were all of them still. Before all changed.

“They can here,” he protested, casting a stray catch of his long hair aside so he might see, rather than ever committing to the sense of just cutting it short. “Here we were, and here we are.”

“I have no wish to suffer another argument with you,” she could not have expressed the sentiment more wholly, it was evident about her tone, her face, her stance. Iole fell back as though invisible arms had shoved her.

“So do not start another argument,” he suggested, with a shrug. “It is a fair day. Sit. Share an apple. That does not break any law now does it ?”


“I can not just pretend like none of it has happened,” She glanced away, found the recently alluring scent of the fayre sickening her senses now with overload. The memory of all they had lost, all that had changed. Part of her wished to reach out and seize the young man, clinging so they could not also be so changed. The other part of her gnawed at her lower lip, and the recognition that it was too late. “I’ll go,” she supposed.

“Why ? Wait ! Hey !” he called out after her determined march almost turned one of the girl’s pale ankles in the hidden pitfalls of the long grass. “It isn’t fair, Lee,” The alias recalled happier times, and the speaker breathed deep, encouraged by the fact that she had slowed to recognise it. “You can not simply change the rules to suit you when you do not like the way the game turns out,” Nal persisted, seeming almost serious for once. “I haven’t changed. Why did you ? Was a time you could stand to spend more than five minutes in my company. So sit, if it is not too great a trial. Come on. You know I have abandonment issues ..”

The last was delivered with as much feeling as bait. As much a tease as it was sincere. His expression awaiting what surrender it always evoked out of hers. Those big brown eyes ... Iole swore under her breath, at both his employing such tools, and the fact that she fell for it. Every time. Well not this time !

“It is too great a trial,” she emitted, softly, flicking her head with an unconvincing display of disdain. He did not understand. How being so close, and knowing she had ruined it forever .. it physically hurt. Her heart, her hopes for them both had fallen out onto the floor. And he acted like nothing had happened. How ?! How could he do that ? Did it not even matter to him ? Did anything ?

“We are friends,” he countered, almost confused.

“I don’t want to be your friend !” she hurled back. And bit back the already revealed secret, that she had hoped they would be more than just friends. Now they were grown up. Well, clearly, she had grown up. “I can not keep having this same conversation with you over and over, Nal. Why don't you just grow up ?! And .. and .. " And in a very ungrown manner, the young women fled down the hill, now in tears, trying to keep from falling into pieces, catching with one hand at her skirt and denouncing the entire day now ruined. All because ..

She did not see the man until she had ploughed into him. Snagged in a whirl of recoiling from their collision, whilst glancing back to see If .. Unalmis was not even coming after her. Fine ! she thought, and glared more furiously than she knew that she was capable of, and surely more than the man she’d already assaulted could deserve.

Or so she had believed … then. Because that there, that was the moment, where things had started to get a whole lot worse ..

---

Unalmis Raxëlilta and Iole Ishen. Hours later.
Aboard the ‘Wingolost’ with Cali, Trev, and two unconscious pirates
Anchored beyond Harlond harbour. Eve of the last day of the Autumn Festival, last year.

‘Of all the times I’ve longed for us to find one another again, I never imagined .. anything .. like this,” Iole sighed, but smoothed the fleeting comfort of her friend’s hand in her own. “It is strange though. How it has worked out, like it was out of our control. Maybe it is not really cruel men and pirates. But all some force we can not see, nor understand, which has thrown us back into each others’ lives.” Dark hair dropped like a curtain over one shoulder, as the makeshift healer did her best to gather up her tools. To focus on them, albeit through blurring vision. Shaking hands picked up and put down the same piece of bamboo more than once, as though she was unsure. She dropped her face aside, cleared her throat and gestured for Cali to shift closer beside her, to raise her injured arm. And prepared for what hurt might come of what must be done. She could contort her interpretation of the situation, to feel better about it. But not even what she had administered would wholly spare her sister from the pain that would be necessary now.

Easing her sister’s arm to an angle she could bear to hold at, Iole employed the smaller, scraps of cloth which Trev had brought her first. Those would bind the limb in two places to the softened bamboo shaft; just before her wrist, and also halfway up her upper arm. To secure the elbow, the fracture where it would not jolt around.


“When we leave, we must all leave. Together,” she suggested. No. Declared. Blinking wildly above fast moving fingers. Knots were managed, the frame set in place. Iole turned to grasp for the larger piece of canvas. But both hands dropped without purchase, into her lap a few moments later. And blue eyes studied them as though they were alien to the rest of her. Maybe just wondering why she could not make them do as she wished. “I can’t explain it really except what Ryn always said. That everything happens for a reason.” Iole wet her lips, as though she could coat them with the sort of defence she craved as she continued. Cali’s twin had said that phrase so often, she could almost hear his voice, by merely recalling the words. “I think it will take all of us. You’re right. If the boys were not here, we might be stuck here. But then, if we were not here, then .. maybe they would be the ones who were stuck. Where they were. Apart. And .. I don’t know. Stuck ..” she paused, scrutinising the sling she had fashioned out of the sail’s stripped canvas.

“Here,” she tried, holding out the readied sling, as though it might prove something of a consolation prize. For all she had just heaped upon her sister’s aching head. “Stand up and I will sit this around you so the arm can hang, without falling too heavy and hurting more than it must.”

---

Unalmis had not consciously followed Trevadir into the cargo hold. The short time that it had took for the Ranger to share his brief exchange with both their sisters, meant that his brother got clear away from him. And .. he was fine with that, actually. Better for him to keep from asking all the questions which any sane person would have raised by now in such a situation, but which he did not really want the answers to. When he’d found Trev on a ship at hand, the hope for help to solve his mission had been staggering. But ever since he’d found out that the girls were actually on this very ship, in a very bad way, and his brother had not simply chanced upon them with want to help. Trev had been on this ship, .. because this was where he lived now. This was what he did now. Which meant ’Rip’ was right ? And he could not trust the one person left in this world who he would have once trusted the most …? At a time when the lives of both their sisters’ depended on exactly that same person ..

Treading wary through the room where pirates continued to slumber, Nal walked warily around their snoring centrepiece, remembering to breath himself only when a noise startled him from close by. Not from the room he had loitered in, but from the cargo hold, as it turned out. Which he readied to explore, expecting .. who knew what .. and finding only his brother there instead; turning over various items, as he considered each to shape up for their needs. Unalmis released his breath but did not quite relax. He had already reached the point of deciding to turn back around and search somewhere else, when Trev must have noticed him. For his brother spoke. And removed any option of escape, unless he wanted to make things a hundred times worse.


‘I could use help moving this ..’

Nal did not even drop his eyes down to the crate which his brother had selected. He gazed past the other young man, as though he might glean some sight to be spied in the shadows behind him. As though the moment he relaxed his guard enough to focus on the task at hand, that would be it. The bait, taken. A stupid small distraction had been the way of it the last time. Well, he’d learned from that. He’d stooped to pick up what was on the floor, the last time. And that’s when he had been struck down from behind. One hand fought a want to reach for his admittedly devastated knife. He turned almost side on and checked behind him though no sound at all suggested any obvious reason to. But where was the Umbarian ? He’d seen him earlier. And then the broach. Were the pirates really where his brother said they were, .. because .. Trev had not denied at all that his father’s crew were pirates …


One foot kicked half-heartedly at the crate. “Best hurry,” was all he gave up then, quiet but not gentle, even before Trev had finished ‘confiding’ the next stage of disarmament. A familiar prompt, about his uncle. Nal missed all that was spoken just afterwards, for he had frozen at the sound of that first, startling, statement. Because … well. Was his brother being serious ? Was Trev really truly going to stand there and speak the very same line now which his brother knew had been the bait that the Burned Man had said ? Seriously ?? Here ? Now ????!!! Was he pretending that he hadn’t known about the key ? Had he just drawn Nal off alone ? Was this a way of checking how healed his shoulder was ? So that the pirates .. and his brother was one of them … so .. so ?

“No time for that,” the young Ranger muttered, only half conscious of the truth escaping his lips. Without any concept nor care, at that moment, how it might be received. Later he would come to recognise that it had been an unwelcome return of dread, of fear. But at that moment, it was absolutely shaping into the form of a slow brewing anger, and fast forming hostility. He did not want to be here. He wanted his brother to stop making him .. furious … Because he didn’t want to be furious ! He just wanted to be far from here, everyone safe. Not girls in a brig thing and Trev playing pirate, and Cadil .. Cadil must have begun to think he was never coming back at this rate !


With a roll of eyes which was not at all subtle, in his absolute displeasure, Unalmis made himself find the opposite side of the crate, to where Trev stood, and dropped his gaze toward it pointedly, impatiently, as he prepared to bear up his side of the burden. Waiting for his brother to pick up the weight before he committed to the same. “Lets just have this over with,” he avoided the other’s expression. As much as he wanted the girls to be freed of this place, he could not have sounded any less enthusiastic about working with his so-called best friend. Brother. The pirate … to see it managed.

Just that morning he had wearied of how much Iole had apparently changed. From how they’d used to be. But this. THIS ???. It was a hundred times worse.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Carpe Diem
|
Trev & Cali
On the pirate ship, Wingolost (anchored out of sight and downriver from Harlond)
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Cali smiled faintly in understanding. "Yeah... same." She agreed, softly. Her head was pounding, but she tried to focus. She recalled that blow to the back of her head, much earlier in the day. And also having her head slammed back and forth into the inside of that barrel. Either or both of those would explain the headache, as well as the painful way her face felt. She suspected her face must be quite bruised, just going on how it felt. But the blood... She remembered seeing blood all over her arm earlier, when she'd caught a glimpse of herself inside the barrel. When the lid was off for a moment. She glanced at her arm, but it looked as if that was not the source of the blood. She closed her eyes and let her head gently rest against the bars which formed the wall to one side of her, remembering his face. His voice. "One barrel full of bones ... And a barrel full of useless, wet coal."

Iole's voice drew Cali out of that unpleasant memory, talking about how it worked out, that somehow, the four of them had been drawn together. After years apart. Cali couldn't deny the coincidence of it, after all. It was also a rather unpleasant coincidence to also be reunited with Rip on the same day that the rest of them had come together. In fact, she wasn't sure that was a coincidence, or if it was orchestrated. She raised her head off the bars and looked around. "Maybe." She agreed with Iole's supposing. Or maybe Rip was behind it... she couldn't help thinking. While thinking that, she looked at the supplies her friend was gathering up. "It's alright," She said softly. "I know it's going to hurt." She shifted closer at her friend's beckoning, and winced a little as she raised her arm to assist her friend.

It certainly did hurt to have her arm maneuvered and bound into its splint, though she tried her best to keep quiet, just in case there were pirates within earshot or something. She gritted her teeth as her arm was put into a sling, cringing now and then, while listening to the words her sister said. They must all leave together. She nodded in agreement. They had been apart long enough.

She let her own eyes drop down to her lap, as her friend brought up a phrase her brother used to use often. As if the physical pain in her arm, and her head, weren't bad enough, her heart added a twinge of pain as well. At least it was only a dull ache, by now. A sad smile touched her lips as she nodded faintly. "We've all been stuck for a while," She answered softly. "Stuck.. apart from each other." She struggled to her feet upon Iole's request, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt a wave of dizziness hit her. She had lost a fair amount of blood, so she figured that must be why.

"It is going to take all of us to get out of here," She agreed quietly. "I can't use my arm," She stared at it with a frown, as if it had betrayed her. Her memory drifted back to the moment when it had happened. "I thought he was going to kill us," She whispered quietly. "He said.. he would have no more use for us. We.. saw his face, there was no way he'd just let us go," She bit her lip. "I thought he meant he was going to kill us. I thought.." She swallowed down the lump in her throat, then let out a shaky breath. "I tried to protect us." She sniffled as she lowered back to the floor after Iole was finished fitting the sling on her. "Look where that got us.." She added, with a wry laugh at the irony.

---

The tension that Trev felt between them, well, it felt like it could be cut with a sword. He wasn't really sure how to deal with that. It was clear that there was some resentment from his once-friend. And it hurt. It wasn't fair. Nal was the one who told him to go with his dad, all those years ago! Why was he angry at Trev, now, for doing exactly what he'd suggested? If anything, Trev had more right to be angry with Nal for not convincing him against going with Dev!

Heaving up his end of the crate, he cast a glance toward Nal when his only reply was that they'd best hurry because there was 'no time for that'. What, so he didn't want to talk to him even now, while they were walking together, working together to get their sisters freedom restored? What sort of things had Nal heard, which had so turned him against Trev? A lump swelled up in his throat as he recalled some of the many things his father had told him. What people back home would say. What his family, even his grandmother, must think of him. But he'd always thought his friends would still be his friends. Could he have been wrong about that?

"Lets just have this over with,”

Over with... just like he was done with Trev. Just like Dev had told him, years ago. So, Trev's fears were confirmed, then? Nal truly didn't want anything to do with him anymore. The realization of that stung. No, it more than stung; it cut. Deep. Trev's slightly blurred gaze fixed upon the path before him, back to the brig, without really seeing much. Of all the people in his life, Nal had been the one whom he had least expected to turn against him. Maybe that was why he'd brought up the matter with his uncle. Maybe, it wasn't that he'd spoken without thinking, but rather, maybe he had been hoping to explain why he hadn't come back with Domanol. Maybe, he'd wanted to make it known that he hadn't disappeared from that ship voluntarily. But now? He couldn't even trust his throat to let any words out, now. That lump was getting worse. He swallowed, trying to get rid of it. If Nal couldn't even spare a moment to hear him out, then.. then why should Trev even bother trying to explain? It was obvious the guy who had once been his best friend, no longer cared.

Maneuvering the crate through the crew's quarters, without making too much commotion, was not the easiest of tasks. Especially with neither of those carrying it speaking to one another. But somehow, they managed. And somehow, they also managed to place the crate gently down to the floor, in the place where Cali indicated it should go.

"That should be perfect," Cali declared, though her voice sounded a bit faint. "But what about a lever?"

Trev glanced at her as he straightened up, and his throat tightened more as he saw again how bruised and injured her face was. At least Iole had her arm splinted and put in a sling, but.. it made his heart ache to see her injuries. He gave a nod, as it was the only reply he could manage right now, then turned and went back out.

---

"I wasn't sure if it would help, tossing my pin away like that." Cali admitted, turning her gaze toward Nal as Trev took off to find a lever. "All I had was a slim hope.. that someone would see it when I tossed it out." She took a slow breath. "I'm so glad it was you, and not... Rip." She couldn't explain all of it right now. And she realized how risky it had been, throwing it out while passing through the gate that he was guarding. But somehow, like Iole had said... it had worked out. "So, thank you, Nal."

She attempted a little smile, though she was starting to become a little more aware of how painful her face was. Perhaps it was the fact she was more alert than she had been half an hour ago. Maybe the pain in her arm had overpowered the other pain. Whatever the case, she decided not to try smiling too much anymore.

She leaned against Iole now, letting her head carefully rest on her sister's shoulder while they waited for Trev to return. After a moment, a thought hit her. "I hope we've got a way off this ship that doesn't involve swimming," She muttered, as it occurred to her that she wasn't going to be able to swim with her arm like this...

---

Trev had to take a few deep breaths to try and calm down, then he glanced at the two snoozing crewmen and remembered the urgency. How much time was left, now? Hurrying past them, he went up on deck and grabbed one of the capstan bars. He looked out toward the harbor and took a few more shaky breaths. He gripped the bar so hard his hands hurt, fighting a temptation to start smashing anything in sight as a way to vent. And to cause as much damage as possible to his dad's ship.

But then he remembered the pressing need to get their sisters to safety, and he forced himself to relax his grip on it, at the same time letting out a sigh. Right, anger later. He glanced at the remaining three bars in the capstan and paused, debating whether it would be a good or a bad idea to toss the other three overboard. It would make it difficult for the ship to pull up anchor, which would mean they'd be stuck in this place for however long it took for them to pull the anchor up. Did he want that? Or... would he rather they left? Yes.. he decided he'd rather they could leave as quickly as possible once they got back. But if he did need to delay their departure for any reason, he knew what he could do.

For now, he decided to leave the other three bars where they were and return to Cali and Iole. He came back in about the time Cali was mentioning a way off the ship. "Don't worry about that," He assured her, having calmed his emotions enough to be able to speak in a forced cheerful tone. "There's a boat ready and waiting to convey everyone safe to shore... just as soon as we get the door to the brig open." He added the last part with a bit of skepticism that crept into his tone, unbidden. "I'm still not sure how you plan on doing that, though." He admitted, holding up the bar. "Will this work?"

Cali lifted her head and studied it from where she sat. "Is it iron?" She asked, guessing from the way it looked.

"Um, I think so?" Trev frowned thoughtfully. Of course, in their years growing up together, Ryn had spoken often about this and that metal, and how to tell what's what, but little of it had ever really held a lot of interest for Trev, since he didn't need to know how to identify if something metal was made of iron, steel, brass, or whatever. Still, a little of it had stuck with him.

"Looks like iron," Cali deduced, nodding approval. "Alright, perfect. You two are going to have to work together on this, because I doubt one of you alone can manage it." She warned the boys.

"Do you actually think we're going to be able to bend the bars far enough apart to get you two out?" Trev asked, full of skepticism now. "I mean, the bars aren't going to be easy to bend. They're iron, right?" He assumed.

"No, actually they're not." Cali corrected him. She shifted slightly, leaning forward to tap the nearest bar with a fingernail of her left arm. "Definitely not iron. In fact, I've rarely even seen this metal before, but I have seen it. Once." She was rather pleased, in fact, to have had the opportunity to learn so much from her Grandmaster, elven smith friend, Fuin. "It's actually a very lightweight metal which comes from tropical regions, and not native to Gondor. Given how light it is compared to iron and steel, I can understand why they used it for this. But whoever installed this thing, they obviously didn't know that steel and aluminum are immiscible," She pointed to the hinges and the lock on the door. "You can't mix them together. In fact, they shouldn't even touch one another. Especially not with salt or water anywhere around them. Look at how badly the bars are corroding around the area where the lock is, see?"

Trev had, of course, noticed the rust on the lock before. It made it harder for the key to turn, and almost impossible to make lockpicks work in it. But he'd never really given the bars around it much thought, assuming that most metals got a bit of rust over time. He'd always just figured it was the outer layer of metal that obtained a little rust, and that was all. He listened curiously as Cali went on.

"I assume they decided to use the aluminum because of how light it is, in comparison with steel. Because they'd want as little weight as possible on a ship, of course. And they probably decided to use steel for the lock, because it's small, and they figured that'd be stronger for a lock. Because yeah, it does make sense... if you don't know much about the metals beyond their individual properties. Fortunately for us, I happen to know a good bit more than the average person about metals and how to join them together."

Trev blinked, staring at Cali as he tried to understand what all she'd said.. but a lot of it went over his head a little, even with what little he'd learned from hearing Ryn talk about his work, and various projects over the years. And of course, he knew that Cali had grown up in the same house with Ryn, and two other brothers and a father who were all smiths. But this sounded like a bit more extensive knowledge than he would have expected from just being a bystander... which left him feeling a bit confused. He decided, for the moment, to just focus on the task at hand. "So... what does all that mean, exactly?"

She sighed and pointed to the spot where she wanted them to put the end of the lever, underneath one of the low, horizontal bars. "Basically, if you put the lever there, under the lock, and put pressure on it just like I say, then the lock, or at least the bars around it, should break. Then, the door can just swing open and we can all get out of here." She sat back, feeling rather pleased with her deduction about the metals, and hoped that the corrosion damage done to the bars was enough to allow the door to break as easily as she believed it would. Hopefully, they'd be out of here in less than five minutes.



(source)