Lord of the Rings Fanatics Plaza

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

Trevadir hadn't replied earlier, and looked hesitant, almost uncomfortable when Macardil focused on him once they had the room to themselves. Macardil simply waited for the young man to make up his mind. When the words of agreement came, Macardil nodded once. A faint smile crept onto his face at Trevadir's next words. "You can help," he reassured the flutist. "But first things first," he said, gesturing.

He took a closer look at the wound. "Hmm." He took out the supplies from the box and satchel, methodically laying them out on the platter. The result was a neatly arranged, small but excellent collection of items he might need. He started by cleaning out the wound first, using the water and clean pieces of cloth.

"I understand your hesitation," he said conversationally as he worked. It was better to distract the mind, for while the wound care was needed it was not at all pleasant. "You do not know me. I have manners but it is clear that my record is not... squeaky clean. I could try to set your mind at ease, but the more you know the more you might wish not to be associated with me." Macardil smiled wryly. "Which does not sound too promising - I am aware."

"Life has been kind to me in a number of ways, but cruel in others," he tried to explain. "Perhaps that is something you can understand. Move your arm a bit more. Yes, thank you. I need to be very sure there is no more dirt or some small piece of glass..." He took another piece of cloth and continued. "When it comes to a good home and access to coin, life has been very kind to me indeed." He did not mention his late wife. Too personal. "But I drew a very unlucky card a good year ago, when I was out on a mission with the King's Rangers." He gave a nod. "There. Clean." Macardil started preparing what he would need for the stitches, wiped the needle with a new wet piece of cloth and held it into the flame of one of the candles. He wasn't sure if Trevadir would believe in things such as sorcery or mind control, and hesitated on how to continue. But it would be a good tale to keep his mind from the needle.

"You have heard from the Witch-King of Angmar and the Mouth of Sauron, yes?" Macardil inquired, as a sort of prelude. "They were known to do things no ordinary man should be able to. What many would call magic. Or sorcery. It is not the sole privilege of being like Sauron himself. To my misfortune." Content with the needle, he prepared it and gave Trevadir a warning glance. "You will have to hold still, Trevadir. Think of it as a test. If you pass, you will be stronger for it." His blue eyes returned to the wound and he repositioned himself slightly. "We encountered someone who could control the mind." He pierced the needle through the flutist's skin, starting on the stitches. "And he chose mine. With desastrous results. To this day I am still deeply ashamed it was so easy for him. Maybe... I simply did not see it coming. Maybe I have no mental barriers to protect myself against such a thing at all. Strength of the body does not equal strength of the mind."

"They called me a backstabber," he said, continuing his work as if he were doing something much more mundane. "And that was not much of a lie. Without wanting to, my hands drove my knife into the back of the neck of my commander." His mouth went dry and for a moment he feared he might lose his composure. He pushed the feeling down. Way down. It resulted in a moment of silence. "I was bound and returned to the city." His words were quieter. "Stripped of my rank and locked in the dungeons for months. They were long. They were cold. And they were unendingly lonely."

A very unexpected smile brightened his face then. "Until one of the Rangers visited me in this abandoned place. She brought questions and kindness. She had magic of her own." The smile grew. "Not magic in the sense people commonly mean when they use the word. But it was magic to me, nonetheless. She managed to bring me before the King. And King Elessar..." Macardil shook his head, once, as he was close to finishing up. "He is all they say and more, Trevadir. To this day, I cannot say what he did. But his mind walked with mine that day, and he saw the truth of things and set me free."

He was done. Pushing back his chair a few inches, he took and spread some of the honey over the wound and took one of the bandages to wrap it around the flutist. "It will keep your clothes from getting sticky, and will avoid new dirt to get in," he explained. "You can put your shirt back on." He frowned slightly. "Though we should have it cleaned. And have it sewn back together. Whatever cut your skin will also have cut the shirt."

The former Ranger hardly paused before he started cleaning the wound on his left arm. "I won't need you to help all that much," he tried to settle Trevadir. "Just a little bit, here and there." His eyes flicked back to the pitcher of ale. "Though I could have asked for something stronger."

@Arnyn
Watching Macardil lay out all of the tools meticulously, Trev couldn't help thinking about how his grandmother would get all of her sewing gear laid out so nice and neat. And then how she used to get so annoyed at him when he and his friends came charging through the house pretending to fight bandits or orcs or something, messing up the house...

He was thinking about that, and about her, as Macardil began to speak again. Trev tore his gaze away from the collection of medical supplies laid out so neatly on the table, turning to look at the former ranger as he returned the faint smile. "Well, I'm not exactly.. squeaky clean.. myself," He mentioned quietly, then dropped his gaze down to the table again in shame. It wasn't something he wanted to talk about, and therefore could understand that Macardil might not want to talk about his own past, no matter how curious Trev might be. So, he wasn't going to ask.

He held his arm out of the way as best he could, turning his face away. He had no desire to see the stitches happening... it seemed weird to watch someone sewing his skin. The pain didn't help much, as he recalled from the last time he'd had to have stitches, but for him it was a little more unsettling to see the stitches being done. As Macardil began to speak again, Trev was slightly surprised to hear him beginning to tell about himself, and his life. Trev glanced briefly at him, then focused his gaze upon the flute on the table as he listened. It wasn't much of a surprise to hear that he was financially well off, considering how easy it was for him to just pay for a room at this nicer inn, and not worry about it at all. Besides, Trev had been around folks with money enough to recognize when someone had plenty.

To get his arm completely out of the way, he reached it across himself to grab his opposite shoulder, so that Macardil could work unhindered. The wound was soon clean, and he knew it would now be time for the most unpleasant part. But he was distracted by the unexpected question. Had he heard of the witch king of Angmar? and the Mouth of Sauron? He turned his head to look at Macardil, somewhat confused by that seemingly random change of subject, and hesitated. "Sure, I've heard of them... among others." He replied slowly, puzzled as well as a little hesitant to delve further into that subject. Then as Macardil went on to mention how they could do unnatural things, Trev nodded slowly. "Yeah... like commanding armies of ghosts..." He mentioned under his breath.

The warning about holding still brought him back to the unpleasantness of getting sewn up. He returned his focus on the flute. "I know, I've had stitches before," He assured Macardil quietly, with a faint smile as he recalled that day he and his friends had to go to the healers to fix up their hands. He couldn't see the scar on his left palm at the moment, but it was there, a constant reminder of their unbreakable friendship. His gaze still locked on the flute, Trevadir listened curiously as Macardil went on, speaking about someone who could control the mind. It wasn't all that surprising, considering some of the things Trev had heard of, and even seen for himself. But the thought of it was quite unnerving, though the stitches he was receiving was a bit more present in his mind at the moment. It was a struggle not to wince as he felt the needle poking through his skin. Half of it was possibly the mental image of it happening, but he tried to block that out.

Still listening, Trev glanced again at Macardil as the former ranger revealed a surprising twist to his story, which explained the reason for what Trev had thought was a change of subject. It was certainly not expected, and Trev found himself staring at him in silence while Macardil continued to speak, all without stopping his work with the stitches. Trev now only partly felt the needle as he listened, a little stunned by what he was hearing. So the comments those men had made about Macardil being a backstabber and murderer.. it was partly true. But they didn't know the whole truth, or they surely would not have been saying such things.

Trev tried to imagine what something like that might be like, and decided he didn't want to think about that. It would be horrible, to be forced to do something, and not be in control of your own actions. He remembered plenty of times that he had defied the captain's orders, making his own choices instead... and while he had gotten into plenty of trouble for his disobedience, it had been his choice. To think of being stripped of the choice of your own actions... and then to find yourself doing something completely against your own will... he could think of no words to describe how terrible something like that would be, to experience...

But how then was Macardil here? He remembered something about him having a pardon.. but how? Just as Trev was wondering about how he got out of that terrible dungeon he described, Macardil's expression changed and he began talking about someone coming to visit. Trev smiled back, relieved for Macardil's sake that he'd had a friend to come see him. Yes, that's right, he remembered him mentioning that someone had believed in him, a friend or something. The faint smile faded then as Macardil made mention of Gondor's new king. Trev frowned slightly. More mind stuff? He wasn't sure what to think of that, but what Macardil said certainly didn't bring him much comfort. Yet, it was good to hear that he was free of whatever spell had been upon him. Trev refrained from commenting anything on that topic for now.

He glanced down at his side as the man began putting honey on his wound. Honey? Trev watched in confusion, until Macardil explained that it would keep dirt out. "I've never heard of doing that before," Trev admitted, a bit amazed. Once the bandage was on, Trev lowered his arm. The back of his wrist was already turning colors, like an autumn leaf. He tried to ignore it, and reached down to his sack to dig out another shirt. "I can sew it up later, myself." He answered Macardil with a vague smile as he pulled on the other one. "My grandmother is a seamstress in one of the shops in the city. She taught me and my brother how to sew... insisted we learn, actually." He smiled wryly as he remembered the arguments he used to give her, and how embarrassed he'd been, back then, to have to learn what he considered 'girl stuff', and how handy it had become since then. "I figure it must have been the bottle that cut me," He added, thinking back. "When I took it away from Scar, the jagged edge must've gotten me then."

Finishing with getting his shirt back on, he watched Macardil starting to work on his own arm now. "Just let me know what you need me to do," He mentioned, then hesitated. The curiosity was getting to him. After a moment, he spoke up again, tentative. "You said before... that 'he's all they say and more'..." He mentioned, pausing to think how to go about asking this without sounding like he feared he would sound. He didn't want to get in trouble for speaking poorly of the king, but it had been troubling him to hear such a thing, after all that he had heard of this king Elessar.

"You..uh, say that like it's a good thing..." He frowned, a little confused, then cleared his throat. "I have to wonder... who exactly is "they"?" Trev fidgeted slightly, wondering about this. "Perhaps you've heard things differently than I have..." He added thoughtfully, realizing that was entirely possible, considering the sort of folks Trev had been around the last few years. Perhaps everything he'd heard was false?

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

"Good," he said quietly in response to Trevadir's words about sewing the shirt himself. He did not return to the subject of his encarceration or the reason for it. He had spoken. It was done. What more was there to be said? "Sewing is a good skill to have. I agree with your grandmother." He nodded at the mention of the broken bottle. It could have been little else, from how the wound looked.

Macardil looked up then, distracted by the tone of Trevadir's words. He paused his work on the cut. "It is a good thing," Macardil confirmed, the confusion evident in his eyes. It took several moments after the flutist's last words for the former ranger to realize what his mistake had been.

Surprised, he leaned back in his chair. "Hmm. I suppose I never considered that different people might be saying different things," he spoke honestly. He gave Trevadir an apologetic smile. "What I have heard, comes from Ithilien, of Minas Tirith, and of Dol Amroth. Although I suppose the social circles matter as well." His attention returned to cleaning his cut, but his gaze flicked up to Trevadir every so often.

"The things I have heard I found and find positive. That King Elessar is wise. Strong of mind. Merciful and just. These things I can all attest to, through personal experience. That he is kind, as well." He frowned. It all seemed so selfevident to him. "Just what are the things you have heard?" Carefully, he set about cleaning the needle once more.

@Arnyn
It was evident there was some confusion between them now. Macardil looked confused at what Trev had said, and Trev felt confused by what Macardil replied. There was definitely a conflict of reports here, and he paused to consider that. Macardil heard things from Ithilien, Dol Amroth, and Minas Tirith. Trevadir heard things from the mouths of pirates, criminals, thieves, liars, and enemies of Gondor. Already he was beginning to doubt the legitimacy of the tales he had heard, but.. he'd heard so much, it was difficult to simply shake such things out of his memory. "Um.." He hesitated as Macardil asked him what he had heard. "Just the opposite, really." He frowned and quietly poured a glass of ale, setting it near Macardil in case he wanted it, even if it wasn't as strong as he might have wanted.

"They..say that he's ruthless and fearsome to his enemies. Even ghosts are afraid of him. I saw him, you know... commanding a whole army of them, with my own eyes! It was.. quite terrifying." He admitted, his good eye widening slightly. "Someone said those ghosts were all enemies that he'd slain in battle... or maybe he just killed them, I don't know... and that he'd used some sort of sorcery to bind them into his service or something. They say he travels with strange folks with terrible powers of sorcery, and he somehow coerced that old, crippled king of Rohan to leave his throne and summon Rohan's army to fight for him.. that he like, tricked them or something, to make them fight against this powerful wizard, and they trapped him in his own tower and stole some sort of enchanted item, or something like that..." He frowned, a little unclear on that rumor. "It's also said that he sent some little kids into Mordor to distract.. you know, the Dark Lord.. while he went up to the front gate and challenged him or something..." Overall, he considered that a rather dreadful picture of the man now in charge of the realm. And that wasn't even all of the rumors and gossip that had swept around the circles Trevadir had been involved in lately.

"They also say," He went on a bit hesitantly as he picked up his flute from the table, just so he could hold it in his hands as he talked, "that he's far more harsh and stern than Lord Denethor ever was with running things. The way I heard it, if you're arrested for any crime, they dish out the most severe punishment no matter what the crime, and they don't even give you a chance to try to prove if you're innocent or not." He fidgeted slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable speaking about these rumors. "You get a public execution.. unless you're really high on the wanted list. Then the guards have orders to kill on sight." He frowned, trying to make sense of why that wasn't what had happened to Macardil. His account did provide quite a contradiction to what Trev had heard was true. "I've... also heard it said... that he um, may have killed Captain Boromir... then he tried to kill Captain Faramir as well... but Lord Denethor tried to stop him and he got killed instead..." He glanced up, confusion lingering in his brown eyes as he began to question whether any of this was really true, considering the sources. "Among several other things like that..." He added, feeling more and more awkward about the whole matter.

Having shared his account of the things he had heard about Gondor's new king, Trev began to realize that a few things didn't quite make sense... and others didn't really match up with what Macardil said. Frowning, he dropped his gaze down to the flute he held in his lap. His hands fidgeted absently with the instrument as he hesitated, considering everything Macardil had said, compared to what he had heard before. And thinking about where he had heard such things. "...None of that is true, is it?" He asked softly, already beginning to feel like an idiot for believing such lies.

@Ercassie


He was not impressed by her claim that she could not get up on her own. Cali wasn't entirely sure what her plan was, but seeming helpless and unable to do anything seemed like it would be the best way to go. Then when she did make her attempt, he would (hopefully) be caught off guard. He still insisted she get up, and so Cali reluctantly put forth a little more effort to achieving what he demanded. She would likely stand a better chance against him if she were standing, anyway. Her head still hurt, though. Not as bad as when she first awakened, but it did hurt a bit, the area on the back of her skull refusing to let her forget that it was sore. She had no idea whether it was bleeding or not, as she couldn't reach up to feel it. But that was less important right now.

As Cali transitioned onto her knees, she cringed and let out a little moan. As she slowly got herself upright, she seemed to stumble slightly (actually she was accidentally stepping on the hem of her dress, but hoped he didn't notice that) and swayed, catching herself against the side of the cart, as if her balance was suffering. It surely couldn't hurt anything to exaggerate her dizziness and throbbing head. He had struck her with something, and he couldn't know whether she might be suffering a concussion. She knew somewhat about those, from her mother... as well as the various adventures she and her friends had had over the years. She knew some of the symptoms to look for, thanks to her mother. She only wished she had thought of it before she'd started speaking, since she knew he wouldn't fall for a slurred speech act now. But she could act as if she might faint or collapse at any moment... in the hopes he might lower his guard.

"Oh.. my head.." She mumbled, in a pained voice. Quite honestly, actually. It did hurt. And standing up did actually make it throb a little more, but she was sure that she wasn't really as bad off as she was pretending. It went against her instincts to come closer to the man, but her wrists were bound, and she couldn't do anything until those were free. So she complied, reluctantly, each step portraying an unsteady balance. The whole time that he worked on cutting the ropes binding her hands, Cali's mind was in a race with her heart, each trying to see which could go faster. But it had been years since her brother had taught her any of those impressive fighting moves he had learned from that ranger who trained him. Could she pull off one of those handy disarming maneuvers? Mentally going over the motions of some of the ones she used to practice with Ryn, she wondered if she could actually pull it off. She only remembered a few of the techniques he had found so impressive that he'd had to share with them all. He'd needed practice partners, he said, and when Nal and Trev weren't available, Cali was almost always around. He'd wanted Cali... all of them really... to learn to defend themselves in case it should ever be needed. He'd even talked Iole into trying a few, once or twice. But, until now, Cali had never really expected to need such a skill... now she wished she hadn't neglected to practice what Ryn tried to teach her.

The blade was still very sharp, after all this time. Had he carried it, all this time, or kept it hidden away somewhere? Had he kept it sharp, or had the edge simply remained this sharp without aid from a whetstone? She couldn't help wondering. The thought of her brother's dagger being put to such a use was revolting to her. Anger threatened to surge up inside, at the audacity of this man to use that blade to intimidate the two of them. Did he know? Was it on purpose, or merely coincidental? The fact that he had targeted Iole at all made the whole thing seem far from coincidental. That he had chosen to take both of them strengthened the likelihood that none of this was a coincidence. Cali took a slow breath, forcing her anger down. 'Don't let your anger control you,' Ryn used to often say. 'Learn to control it, and use it to your advantage.' The words had been aimed at Trevadir, who was known for his temper, but Cali accepted the advice for herself, now. She took a deep breath, nervous as she tried to prepare herself for what she was about to attempt. She could very easily get killed, but then.. she was sure he was going to kill them both anyway, so she had better chances of surviving by trying this.

As she felt the ropes binding her finally slacken and fall away, Cali realized her time to think was over. He was prodding her in the back, ordering her into the barrel, but she knew she mustn't go along with that. She had to act now, or there was no more hope for her and Iole to get out of this thing alive. And she would likely only get one chance to try this. "I.. don't feel well," She murmured, stalling for a second or two more. Thinking, remembering how tall the man was, imagining where the dagger would be based on where she felt the point at her back... so that as she whirled unexpectedly, pivoting swiftly around to face him, she had an idea where to find it. Her right hand came up to grab for his wrist, attempting to pull the blade off to the side with his arm crossing his torso, safely away from herself, and maybe even away from him. If it worked, and she remembered correctly, the motion should also pull him downward a bit, so that her left hand, moving at the same time, could more easily reach his face to inflict pain. Her left palm moved upward while her right was (hopefully) pulling his weapon arm downward, the heel of her left hand aimed to strike him in the nose or chin -whichever she got lucky enough to strike- as hard as she was able. Her plan was to follow this up by shoving him with all her strength, with the hope of pushing him off of the wagon entirely... if she could manage that, then she could jump into the front of the wagon, urge the horses to take off at a run, leaving him behind... and then she and Iole would be safe!


Edit: clarification

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion

He saw them a while before they got to him. The one, Mar had never seen before. But Unalmis he was very familiar with. And he still felt the same loathing toward the cheery, carefree young man that he had always felt, even as small children. It was so much more than some mere disagreement on the playground. Or being tattled on for this or that. It wasn't even fully about Ryn and Nal trying to steal his brother away anymore, that first week of school. Nal and his friends had humiliated Mar more than once growing up, and that was enough to fuel his hatred for as long as he lived... but then, on top of all of that, throw in the fact that Nal had somehow managed to escape from what should have been his death some years ago, after all the effort Mar had gone through to see him delivered to the Priest in Umbar... that was just too much. He should have died then.

Perhaps the ranger felt the sea-green gaze of hate boring into him from a distance, willing him to trip and faceplant into a fresh pile of horse dung left by the cart ahead of him (and even better, he could then get trampled by that big horse a little ways behind he and his friend!) ...but whatever the reason, Unalmis' gaze was drawn toward Mar after a moment of idly chatting with his friend, or whatever he was doing. As the ranger caught sight of the 'guard', their eyes met for perhaps half a second, before Mar turned to check a cart filled with a family of young children that was heading out. Pretending, for the moment, that it made no difference to him whether Nal was there or not. But Nal knew who was at the gate now. And yet he still came, foolishly thinking he might be allowed through to carry on with whatever he was doing. Idiot. Mar intended to be as much of an obstacle for him as he possibly could. After he waved the family through, there was another small group on foot, and another. He found no reason to stop any of them, and before long, Ranger Raxëlilta and his unknown friend had arrived.

Mar had been thinking about what he wanted to do, while he was going through the motions of his (actually Ric's) duties. Giving the other guy(Cadil) a bored glance over, he turned his attention to Nal. "Well, Anal-mess... it's been a while, hasn't it?" He remarked, using the insulting name he'd called him since... well, it had been a long time since he first thought that up. A faint smirk was displayed on his face. Delighting in the chance to make his enemy suffer in some way, even if it was simply some inconvenience. "I'm afraid you're not allowed through. See, I have these posters, listing all of those known for trying to pull tricks and causing trouble and the like. And you're one of the top offenders. Sorry, I can't let you through." He declared in a tone laced with mock regret. "Unless.. of course, you pay the fine which was established after your last little 'escapade' outside the Rammas." He added with a smirk, without really knowing much about 'the last time' but he could make a guess that Nal surely had gotten involved in something that the guards and his parents weren't pleased about. The guy was always getting into trouble in some way, so it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine he probably had the last time he went past these walls.

"As for your friend, the fine applies to him as well since he's with you." Mar added with a cool glance toward the other young man. He seemed to be the only one with any gear at all, and as such, it seemed likely he was probably the only one who might have thought to bring any money along for this little 'adventure' they were doing. He would make sure that whatever they had between them, it wasn't enough. He had no idea, nor did he care, what their business was beyond the gate. He just wanted to prevent them from it for the sake of inconveniencing Unalmis... which would provide quite a bit of entertainment for himself. He was curious to see how far he could push them... especially Nal.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

He'd finished cleaning the needle to his satisfaction by the time Trevadir said he had heard just the opposite. Macardil's frown deepened even as Trevadir's appeared. After preparing everything he'd need to start on the stitches, the former Ranger nodded his thanks for pouring the ale and downed about half of the serving. Leaning back in his chair, partly glad he could postpone starting on the stitches, he listened.

In some places he was displeased. In others he was amused. At one statement, he marveled at the way people could warp things.

Macardil gave the flutist a pointed look when he shared what he had heard about the way the King handled sentencing. Obviously, his mere presence in the room attested to the lie of that. He shook his head at Trevadir's question. "Some things you were told have warped a grain of truth in such a way to shed a bad light on Elessar," he said quietly. "Other things are completely false." He gestured at himself. That was proof enough.

He started on the stitches for his own arm then, instructing Trevadir to help him knot off the thread each time. It was detailed work, but Macardil gave specific, detailed instructions, and they managed quite well between the two of them. And it was cleaner work than if he had tried to do it all with one hand. It would also give Trevadir some time to mull things over in his head.

When they were done, Macardil wiped some sweat off his brow with his right hand sleeve. He leaned back into his chair again and finished the rest of the ale just when a knock came on the door. The food.

@Arnyn

Trevadir kept quiet as he helped Macardil with his stitches, thinking long and hard about it all. If it was all a lot of lies, then.. what was the truth? He knew what he had seen.. the ghosts. That had been terrifying. And Nal's uncle had told him to stick close to him, and said something about how he did not want to be mistaken for an enemy, just before everything got chaotic and Trev got separated from him. And then everything went all wrong from there, and he'd awakened to find his father telling him... hmm. Trev wondered now... what really did happen after he got knocked out? Perhaps he should have been more skeptical about anything and everything his father said. He knew the man was deceptive... yet he had believed him on so many things, and there was still so much that Trev wasn't sure about, it left him feeling a little uncertain about everything... even about things he knew to be true.

As he spoke, Trev didn't fail to notice the look that Macardil gave him upon hearing about the sentencing Trev had mentioned. Yet, there were a few factors that might have made it different. Macardil had been taken captive by rangers, not guards, according to what he said. Did that make a difference? Perhaps they had been going to do the execution but it got delayed.. and he also wasn't a long-standing enemy of the realm, as were some of the people Trev had been in association with. He'd only committed one crime, out of the blue. That might be the difference, perhaps? Trev was still trying to sort through all the confusion, when the knock came.

"I got it," He stood and slid the flute into its usual place at his belt, before going to the door, opening it a little bit to assure himself it was the server they were expecting, rather than someone coming to cause more trouble. It was the server, thankfully. "Thanks," He smiled at the server who had come with a tray, and opened the door wider. "Over here, please." He directed the guy toward the side of the table which didn't have medical instruments spread out on it. It took only a moment for the server to set the tray down and check if they needed anything else.

Once he had gone on his way, Trev sank down into his chair again, still thoughtful and troubled by all of this. "So.." He hesitated, looking troubled as he stared absently at one of the walls. "I don't know what to believe anymore." He shook his head slightly, and sighed. "I mean, I figured they'd exaggerated some.. that's a given, but.." He shrugged, motioning with one hand in frustration, finding it difficult to put this into words.. his confusion, his frustration, his uncertainty. "And.. the captain.. I know he lies and all that... but I heard all this stuff from lots of different people." He frowned, feeling a little torn. He wanted to believe what Macardil was saying, but how could he just forget everything he'd heard for the last few years, as if it never passed his ears? "I just don't know..."

With his right elbow on the table, he rested his forehead in his hand(carefully avoiding the area of his bruised eye) with a heavy sigh. There were too many thoughts, ideas, and questions circling around in his mind, many being contradicted and challenged, and it was giving him a bit of a headache. "Maybe they treated you different because you were a ranger...instead of..I mean, I know the king isn't too fond of..pirates and the like..." He mentioned quietly, hesitant to admit too openly what he was so nervous about. "I saw how he dealt with them at Pelargir, during the war, you know? Sent his ghost army in to slay them all, and took over the whole fleet..." He refrained from stating any of the rumors he had heard concerning the conclusion of that battle, since he had only hearsay to go on from the point he had lost consciousness.

Cadil, with Nal @Ercassie , and Guard Lt. @Rillewen
Pelennor - Southern Gate - Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Cadil had not expected any trouble, but the more the guard spoke, the more he became upset at someone treating his friend like that.

"Hey!" his dark eyes darkened even more as he frowned and slowly let his heavy pack down from his shoulders to put it down at his feet. "I don't care if you are a Lieutenant or not," he had noticed the insignia and showed off his knowledge. "You know what, you don't even behave like one. Rather like some underage bully!" While he had been in the military, Cadil had learned that the higher the rank the higher standards were required of the one taking on the duties, and for that same reason he had not felt that he could continue - because he had become way too lazy and undisciplined to hold even the lowest rank. He wondered if the city guards had no such code of conduct to live by.

"There are no more posters of either him or me!" he claimed further with certainty. "We are no longer small kids, as you can see, and Unalmis is a Ranger, so you have no right to deny him passage."

Cadil straightened up to stand as tall as he could and squared his shoulders ready to stand his ground, or even let his fists fly if necessary. "You ain't gonna get any money from me for I do not own any, not to you at any rate," the volume of his voice grew as he defended his rights, and those of Nal as well. He glanced sideways at his friend to see what he would say to all the claims and whether he would join up in the argument.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

"Thank you," Macardil said, rising to press a coin in the server's hand before he could leave, "for bringing it up to the room. I will bring the medical supplies back down later."
After the young man had left and Trevadir sank down into a chair, looking a bit defeated despite the excellent defence he'd put up in the Siren, Macardil finished his own wound care, save for bandaging it up. He unrolled one of the bandages while Trevadir spoke haltingly, thinking out loud and trying to wrap his head around the idea that what he had heard about King Elessar was... well. Simply not true.

Not everything the flutist said made sense to Macardil, but he could fill in most of the blanks. Especially the 'captain' bit started to make sense once the word 'pirates' was dropped. Macardil raised his eyebrows for a moment, wondering just what stories Trevadir might be able to tell of his own past. Yet he was too polite to pry.

The former ranger held out the bandage to Trevadir, but the words he spoke had nothing to do with the bandage or his wound. He figured that if Trevadir had been paying attention earlier, he would know what to do now. "You have heard these stories from many different people, you say. Forgive me for asking, Trevadir... but what kind of people? Reputable? Known to speak the truth? Or questionable? And known to shape the truth into whatever suits their own purposes?"

"Apparently," he said, his tone deceptively neutral, "many think that a ranger committing a crime is worse. The expectations for pirates and rangers are different. That is only natural. A pirate is a criminal. A ranger is almost like a role model. A pirate may redeem himself. A ranger can only fall from grace."

"I cannot tell you what to believe, Trevadir. And so I will not. I can only advise you to seek additional, more varied sources. It would be a shame for you to have this image of our King based on rumor from the likes of those who attacked you in the Siren." His blue eyes assessed Trevadir carefully, to see if his guesswork was on the mark.

@Arnyn

As he listened to what Macardil replied, Trev realized he might have spoken some things out loud that he might ought to have kept to himself. But it was too late now. He inwardly cringed, but tried not to let it show outwardly. It seemed Macardil had picked up on some of the hints he'd accidentally let slip. Frowning slightly, he took the roll of bandage in silence, needing no words to understand the request. He was about to start on the bandage when he remembered the honey. It was a bit hard not to get it gloppy, and took some time spreading the layer of honey so that it wasn't too thick, nor too thin on Macardil's stitched wound.

He frowned slightly with some skepticism at Macardil's words about how a pirate could redeem himself. Not only did he feel doubtful about that, but it sounded as if the former ranger had come to the conclusion that Trev was a pirate. And he did not want to be considered such. "I'm not..." He protested quietly, before hesitating in uncertainty, as he began to wrap the bandage carefully around Macardil's arm. "I mean... I don't know exactly what I am anymore... But I'm not one of them," He insisted, in case the former ranger had gotten that idea. "I just.. messed up." He added, sighing as he focused on bandaging the wound.

He gave a faint laugh at the last bit about who he'd heard the rumors from. "Reputable?" he scoffed lightly. "Far from it." He realized of course that it made absolute sense what Macardil was saying. He really should have known better than to listen to anything he heard from those people. But, it was difficult to disregard such things when it was all he heard, from everyone around him, for years. He carefully tied off the bandage. "There... not too tight, is it?" He checked, before sitting back, looking thoughtful. "It isn't entirely about the king," He mentioned after a moment, thinking hard. "I've heard plenty about him, but.. it goes back to before that." Trev wasn't really sure how to explain all of this. After thinking about it for a moment, he decided that Macardil had been pretty great so far about not judging, being kind, and had even shared his own story with Trev. And he was still there even after the bits Trev had told him already. He poured a mug of ale for himself, and topped off Macardil's since he'd already drunk more than half of it.

"I made a mistake... a really big, really stupid mistake... about five years ago." He explained quietly, staring down at the table, reluctant to look up. He'd spoken earlier as if he was a pirate, though he denied that he was one. A part of him feared that if he looked up, he'd see suspicion, or condemnation, or worse showing on Macardil's face..and it bothered him to think of having to see that. "I've regretted it every day since, but... I couldn't figure out any way of fixing things back how they were." He went on, trying to explain. "I guess that's impossible, to make things go back to how they were, but it seems like it all just kept getting worse, and worse... and I kept falling deeper and deeper into that one stupid mistake." He sighed in frustration, trying to think how to make him understand fully.

After a brief hesitation, Trev finally glanced up, meeting the blue gaze that were studying him, and felt a small bit of relief that to see none of what he had feared he would see in his face. This gave him a little reassurance, and he went on. "I just wanted to get to know my father." It seemed like such a simple thing, hearing it out loud. But it was so much more complicated than it sounded. "He... left when I was six," Trev offered some further explanation on that matter. "I thought... as a kid, that he just left because.. well because of my kid brother." He frowned. "He left the same day he was born, so.. it made sense. Right? He didn't leave when I was born. So, growing up I kept thinking, one day he'll come home for me. One day, I'll get to do all the things with my father that others do with theirs.. that sort of thing." He shrugged, realizing now how stupid all those childish thoughts had been. "Stupid, I know." He slid one of the bowls of stew toward Macardil, claiming the other for himself, but didn't start eating yet.

With a wry smile, he went on, "I was fifteen when I saw him again. My friends and I decided to run off and have an adventure. We were supposed to meet up somewhere in Harlond, because I.. uh.. I had to sneak away from my little brother, or he'd have wanted to come along." He still felt bad about how he'd ditched Tobedir, leaving him to wake up all by himself on his way to their grandparent's house.. but that was another matter. "That was..not such a great thing I did there, but, anyway. I ended up running into my father." He paused, and added with a bit of a laugh, "At none other than the Siren's Embrace, mind you. And.. I won't bore you with all the details, but, well he offered to let me to come along with him and join his crew."

He fell silent for a moment, somewhat wondering why he hadn't listened to Nal. "My friends tried to talk me out of going with him," He remembered, quietly. "But I was so..excited. And eager to reunite with my father.. and Nal had recently had his father pull himself out of his constant hangover, and started doing things with him... I guess I was jealous. So... I went with him. Captain Dev the pirate.. only I didn't realize what he was, then. And now that I do know him.. I wish I didn't." He added, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.

He still found it hard to believe how foolish he had been. "The first week wasn't so bad, just a lot of learning about sailing and stuff, you know.. Then after the first week or two, I started realizing the sort of things they did, the awful stuff they were involved in... I wanted no part of that stuff. I just wanted to go home. I told him that, and he just laughed at me." He added, dropping his gaze down to the stew for a moment, one hand absently poking the spoon around in it. "He.. said I could never go back home again. That I was one of them now. I'd been seen associating with them, been involved in some very illegal sorts of things..." He grimaced at how that sounded, "I didn't do anything illegal, but.. I was there. He said the guards wouldn't care, that I'd be arrested, killed on the spot.. and all sorts of terrible things that would happen if I tried to go anywhere near a guard, much less a city full of them." He frowned down at his bowl. "He says I'm on a wanted list...that they've got my face on posters just like the rest of them. And I don't know if I am or not. But honestly.. I'm too scared that there's even a grain of truth to any of that to even think about going around any guards... and then the war happened, and I started hearing all that stuff they said about the king..."

He shrugged slightly, figuring the man could put the two together to understand that this was the reason why Trev had been too frightened to venture anywhere near the city. "It's kinda like I'm just... roaming around in the dark looking for some way back to the light.. just trying to figure out my place in all of this." He sighed softly. "I've felt like a prisoner for the last five years...until I got away from them, last Autumn. And they've been trying to drag me back in ever since, except I refuse to get involved with them ever again. But, it's hard when I'm sorta stuck here, and the only place I could get a job was at the very place they tend to frequent." He sighed with frustration. "Those two guys who were after me tonight... you might have guessed, but they're from his crew. Trying to drag me back to face my 'punishment' for..things that I did before leaving, which they weren't too happy about..." Despite the unpleasantness of that statement, he couldn't help a faint smile to remember the satisfaction he'd felt as he accomplished those things they were so upset about.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

Macardil frowned along with Trevadir when he said that his father had left when his little brother was born. What kind of man would leave a six year old and a baby? And their mother, besides? Rather than judge Trevadir, Macardil felt himself instantly judging the flutist's father instead. Even while not knowing anything else about the man.

To hear the way Trevadir spoke of the hope that his father would one day return, made Macardil's heart heavy. He wondered how many children went through that, and he counted his lucky stars to have never been in that position.

He nodded his thanks at Trevadir for bandaging his arm and accepted the bowl of stew he slid over. Since the younger man was talking, Macardil took to quietly and slowly eating the stew, looking more at Trevadir than the food as he did so. So his father was in fact a pirate. And he had tried to pull Trevadir into the same life. Listening until it seemed like Trevadir was pausing, Macardil held back a sigh. Life. It could be so cruel, for all its beauty.

"Trevadir. The sins of the father do not pass onto the son." He gestured vaguely with his left hand, figuring it would not be appropriate to get too familiar with the flutist, regardless of the experience they'd just shared. Macardil got the distinct feeling that Trevadir would bolt if he wasn't careful. "To put it bluntly: if you committed no crimes with them, at most you could be considered complicit by your lack of reporting them. Which can be understood, given that your father is this crew's leader and you would have no wish for any such mark on his person to carry over onto yourself." He continued to study the flutist, although not in an invasive sort of way. "I know it is an unfair question. But have you ever considered reporting them?"

A moment of silence passed. "I have seen no posters with a face that resembles yours, Trevadir... But I could make some inquiries. If you like."

@Arnyn

Trev frowned slightly in thought as he started on his stew. He was quite hungry, although the thought of eating had taken a back seat for a little while. But there was little reason to delay further now that the bandaging was over. Besides, he didn't want it to get cold. After a few bites, listening while Macardil spoke, he couldn't help a little laugh at the thought of the ex-ranger's suggestion. He swallowed the food in his mouth. "Report them, when I can't go near a guard without fearing arrest or worse?" He shook his head slightly, growing more serious after a moment. "I couldn't go to the guards...or, I thought I couldn't, anyway. I mean.. it's not easy to fully explain."

He frowned, taking another bite quietly, and chewed on that as he tried to think how to make him understand. "I hope you never have the misfortune of meeting Dev, but.. he's like a snake, you know? Sly and deceptive, and just..." He sighed, unable to think of a fitting description, and eventually gave up after the pause had stretched on a little too long. He frowned, thinking for a moment as he took another bite of stew. "I never figured there was any hope of reporting them. But I did as much as I could to try to hinder them from some of the things they did." He mentioned with a faint smile. "Which is probably part of why they're so eager to get back at me now that I'm not with them anymore..." He trailed off, thinking about all the various reasons he had given the crew to dislike him.

"My friends wanted me to make a report, too." he remembered, frowning. "Not about Dev though. About someone he deals with a lot. But.. the guy's just as much a liar as Dev is.. and I could just see how that would go. There'd be too many questions about how I know the things I know... him saying all sorts of horrible things about me to discredit me... " He sighed. It really bothered him that he'd had to let them down. The disappointment on Cali's face, even though she said she understood. The look in Nal's eyes as he had begged him, without a word, to come with them. The way Iole had looked like she was barely keeping it together... "I could tell plenty of terrible things about that guy," He sighed, poking at his stew, feeling upset about having to let his friends down when they asked for his help. They'd wanted him to stay with them, so they'd all be together as they used to be, and it had torn his heart to have to leave them at such a time. Falling silent for a moment, he took a bite and thought about all of that.

As Macardil spoke up again, offering to look into whether he was wanted or not, Trev looked up at him in surprise. The offer was unexpected. "You could do that?" He wondered, surprised. Of course.. yes, he could do that. The guy used to be a ranger, he probably knew all about how to check into stuff like that. In fact, it seemed like such a simple solution, he had to take a moment to think about why he hadn't asked Iole or Cali or Nal to check into that. And then he remembered the reason he wouldn't ask Nal or the girls to get involved with anything that included the guards.

He hesitated as he thought of that problem. "There's a guard in the city," He mentioned thoughtfully. "He'd just love to have any reason to cause trouble for me." He frowned. "I could tell quite a lot of things about him, if anyone'd believe me. Things he definitely would not revealed. Problem is, he's a lieutenant, and I'm..." He trailed off with a slight shrug. "Same problem as before.. My word against his, you know? He's always hated me and my friends, so.. I couldn't ask any of them to check..." He looked at Macardil curiously. "But he doesn't know you.." A tiny flicker of hope stirred up inside him. This could maybe work. "Would you?"

Private with @Ercassie
Millions of stars twinkled overhead, scattered across the inky backdrop of the night sky. Eryn stepped softly through the grass, glimmering with tiny beads of dew. The only sound falling on her ears was that of crickets chirping, hidden somewhere among the damp blades that drooped low to the earth. Eryn stopped in the middle of the camping spot usually occupied by her father, since his injury anyway. The charred logs from the fire lay cold and dark, absent of their usual cheery blaze, or even the quiet glow that she was accustomed to seeing. His bedroll was gone. The camp, his home, such as it was, seemed oddly bare without it. Though the shelter made of sticks, grass, and mud still remained, long enough to hold his full length inside, and just wide enough for him to crawl into, she knew that the interior held far less than it normally would have. She had packed much of those items for him, and sent them with him.

Hazel eyes quietly surveyed the eerily quiet little camp. It felt as it did when he went out on missions, sometimes gone for weeks. Eryn wrapped her arms around herself with a tiny shiver, her own blanket serving as a shawl against the chill night air, and sat down on the cold ground. Hugging her knees to her chest, she turned her gaze up toward the stars, letting out a little sigh. She liked to imagine that her mother was up there, looking down, watching what happened. But there was so much happening, she wondered how anyone could keep track of it all? It felt as if everything was changing. Of course, that was to be expected... that was what happened when one began growing up. But it was weird. It felt as if she were still mostly the same, but everything around her was changing, rapidly, faster than she could keep up. Her daily routine had altered drastically. Many of the responsibilities she had taken care of for some time had shifted back to Aggie or Cailon, now that she had taken up an apprenticeship with the healers. She still fulfilled her main chores like the milking, but she had gotten so used to doing certain things that it felt strange to give them up in favor of other, newer things. Like spending a few hours each day learning to treat patients, rather than spending that time driving the cart all over the city, delivering milk and cheese. Or helping Aggie churn butter.

On top of that, Aggie and Cailon had held a discussion recently, and had revealed some very big news to her and her dad. They were about to take in some small children. That fact alone left her reeling a little. Sure, she was happy for her aunt and uncle; she'd been aware for some time that they would like to be parents, and raise their own children. But she hadn't quite expected that it would ever actually happen, and it hadn't occurred to her that they might adopt. And while she certainly understood their excitement in finally achieving that which they had hoped for for so long, it felt strange to think about having little children around here all the time. And not just one, but two!

Then there was her dad. It was obvious he was keeping some sort of major secret, and yet he wouldn't let on that he even had a secret. That was new... she was used to him having to keep certain things from her, but he would always simply say that it was ranger business, and she knew not to pry. Yet this... he was keeping something from her that didn't seem to have to do with the rangers, and that was..unlike him. It left her feeling quite puzzled, and concerned, and, honestly, a little left out. On top of that, there were other things troubling him. Things she'd never thought much about, suddenly seemed to be a problem. His sleeping outside, for instance. She couldn't help worrying about him, wondering how he was doing up there in the barracks with Nal... if he was having a difficult time, if he was getting any rest. She had no idea what the problem was that made him so opposed to being indoors at nighttime, but whatever it was, it had existed for a very long time, so long she hadn't realized it was more than just the way he preferred things. But now, the fact that he was going to have to spend a whole day and night in the city, every other week, for an indefinite amount of time.. that clearly troubled him, and Eryn couldn't figure out the reason behind it all. She frowned slightly as she recalled the conversation she had overheard two nights ago, which had taken place on this very spot...




Eryn had set out with the intention of telling her father good night, and sitting with him for a little while before going to bed, something she often did, but not every night. And tonight, she had gotten caught up reading that book Addhor had lent her, and before she knew it the moonlight was streaming in her window, her candle burning low, and she realized it was far past her bedtime. She still wanted to say goodnight to him, and check how things had gone with the lieutenant earlier. Her steps had been slow, delicate, and stealthy, because she wanted to improve her skill at moving without alerting an enemy. And she felt sure that practicing such skills against her father would surely be useful in the future.

Still hidden by the tall grass, which would later be cut down and stored to feed the cows through the winter, Eryn stopped short, surprised to hear soft voices ahead.

"I don't know," Duinion's low, hushed voice spoke to an unknown person. "I'm really worried..." The rest of what he said was lost as a soft breeze rustled the tall grasses around Eryn. She moved forward a step or two while the breeze lasted, then stood very still, once more. Someone else was speaking. Eryn strained her ears, trying to catch the muffled voice. It was a man, but all she could tell about him was that she had most definitely never heard his voice before. He had a strange accent, like none Eryn had ever heard before.

"No, and she didn't say anything exactly.. but the way she frowned.. I don't know, I just have a bad feeling about this. What if she decides it's a big enough problem that I have to quit? Being a ranger is all I know. I couldn't bear the thought of being made to resign." He sounded truly upset, then laughed lightly. "I'm serious, how do I convince her it's not an issue?"

Eryn frowned, worried. What was he talking about? She thought back, recalling the ranger lieutenant who had come by earlier that day, to talk with her dad. What had she said to him? And who was he talking to?

"You don't think she'd do that?" Duinion's voice rose slightly in alarm suddenly. "No.. no, I don't think that's a good idea.. and I don't think it would help matters much..please, don't."

Eryn missed a portion of the conversation due to a nightingale that started up nearby. She frowned slightly and kept very still, waiting. After a moment the bird went quiet.

"Maybe if I could show her I'm making an effort.. I don't even see why it's such a big deal." Her dad's voice was soft, and she barely heard his words. "I'm just so much more..at ease, out here, in the open air, under the stars." He went quiet, and the other voice spoke but she couldn't make out his words. After a moment her dad replied, "I know, I should've tried a long time ago. I just.. It's easier for everyone.. not just me. And it hasn't ever been a problem for anyone but me. But now, I have to meet with her the day after tomorrow, and.. I just have this dreadful feeling about what that meeting might be about... maybe if I can at least show that I'm making an effort... that would be enough to convince her. But I don't know how to begin."

Eryn stared through the darkness, a bit stunned by what she was hearing. She could make out the orange glow of the campfire embers, but because of the tall grass between herself and the camp, she couldn't see who was there. But the words she had heard left her mind spinning. Someone might be making him quit the rangers, all because he didn't sleep inside? And... the realization that it was an actual problem had never quite occurred to her. It just seemed like.. the way things were. She'd never thought about it, honestly. If that was an issue worth kicking him out of the rangers... then there must be something that he could do about it. She remembered to exhale, slowly, careful not to move the grass with her breath. Perhaps she could do something to nudge him in the right direction... but how?

Realizing that she probably shouldn't be here, listening in on what sounded like maybe a private conversation, Eryn bit her lip and listened for any hint of a breeze. She should get back to her room; obviously, it was unlikely she would be getting a chance to bid him goodnight tonight, and she didn't want to still be standing there whenever his mysterious visitor left. Thankfully, another stiffer breeze came along a moment later, and she used it to cover any rustling she might make in the grass, as her bare feet backtracked carefully away from the scene, and soon hurried back to her room. She had things to think about, wonder about, and then other things to plan...


Who was this mysterious person who had begun to visit her father on a semi-regular basis all of the sudden? It wasn't the first time she'd had reason to suspect that he had a visitor, but it had been the first time she knew it for a fact. She'd actually heard the man, that time. At first, she had worried that her dad was trying to accomplish things he wasn't supposed to be doing with his injury. Fixing the shelter she'd built for him, for instance. Setting up the shooting target, rolling the big heavy log in place.. someone else had obviously done all of that. And then there was that bow that he was borrowing from 'a friend'. There was no question now that he had some secret visitor, but who? Why was it such a secret? The fact that he refused to give her any sort of answers, and had been quite closed-mouthed about the entire matter, had even left Eryn briefly concerned that perhaps some shady person was trying to give him trouble, but she had dismissed that thought after the other half of her brain pointed out that an enemy wouldn't be doing all these things to assist him. So, it must be a friend. But why was it such a secret?

And speaking of secrets... Hazel eyes were drawn toward the shelter in which her father stored what few belongings he kept. It was emptier than usual. But she couldn't help remembering something she had come across, entirely by accident, while packing up some of his favorite things to bring to the barracks with him. She hadn't been snooping, but while trying to gather a few things to send along with him, in the hopes of bringing him some small bits of comfort, Eryn had crawled into the shelter on hands and knees, seeking a few things to add to the pack... that was when she'd felt what she first took to be a long, thick branch, buried beneath a thick layer of dry, dead leaves, and covered with the edge of the blanket. The branch didn't seem to be part of the shelter, and was very long and straight. It lay off to the far side of the shelter, where the bottom of the A-frame shelter met with the ground. When she pulled back the blanket and pushed away the leaves, there to her great surprise lay a battered-looking scabbard of a sword! With wide eyes, she had been tempted to uncover it the rest of the way, and examine it further, but refrained. He was keeping it hidden for some reason, and so she had reminded herself to respect that and leave it alone. After covering it back up with leaves, she had replaced the blanket over it, and gave no indication that she had discovered it.

Eryn's curiosity grew stronger as her gaze remained fixed upon the shelter. Would he notice if she took a better look at it, now? There was enough moon and starlight that she should be able to see the weapon well enough, but did she dare? Would she be able to put it back without it being obvious it had been taken out? She pondered on this for a long moment before finally hopping to her feet. She had to satisfy her curiosity. Crawling in, as she done yesterday, Eryn carefully patted the ground around the area where she had discovered the scabbard before. Her curiosity changed to confusion, however, as she found nothing of the sort. She searched more thoroughly, all along the edge, and then moved her attention to the opposite side. Still, nothing. It was as if the sword had all been in her imagination, but she knew it had been there. It had!

Frowning, Eryn sat down cross-legged in the middle of her father's shelter, and pondered this puzzle. Had he noticed the leaves had been disturbed, and decided he should hide it elsewhere? But that didn't make sense. He couldn't get around well enough to go very far to find a hiding place for a long sword like that, and she could think of nowhere which could hide a sword that was close enough for him, with his foot injured and all. So, had someone else taken it? She frowned as she thought about that, wondering how any thieves would have even thought of looking in this well-camouflaged shelter of his. Honestly, to think of thieves deciding to look for treasures in this little shelter made of sticks, mud, and grass... it was rather absurd. But then, what had happened to the sword?

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

Macardil did not interject while Trevadir spoke, although many thoughts rolled through his head.

"I could," he confirmed in response to the flutists's question. It would not be difficult, although it could take a little time.

Macardil frowned when Trevadir mentioned one of the city guards - a lieutenant, even - who had it out for him and would target him in any way if at all possible. The frown deepened the more he thought about it. Childhood grouches? Trevadir was not so young to, if this Lieutenant was of a similar age, have such petty grievances excused by youthful ignorance. A Lieutenant should know better, in any case. Macardil had some difficulty believing that the city watch would promote someone to such a rank if they were not of impeccable character. He nodded. "I see how that would be a problem for you, especially when it came down to one man's word versus that of another, especially when that other hold such a rank." Macardil tilted his head. "What is his name? So I am sure we do not, in fact, know each other? And so I do not risk an inquiry in his direction?"

He smiled, incredulous, when Trevadir asked not if he could, but if he would do such a thing. "Why not?" he returned the question, not really understanding why his offer apparently sounded so strange. "You seem like a good person. We were on the same side of a fight together, even if it was only a bar brawl." Clearly, the altercation would not make it into the list of his more challenging fights. Regardless, it created a connection. "I would be breaking no laws by doing this for you. It would possibly be of huge help to you, and not much effort for me." A faint smile remained and was joined by a slight frown. "It would almost be rude of me not to offer."

@Arnyn

The idea of knowing for sure about his wanted status was a great relief. Trev smiled bigger once Macardil had verified that he could and would do it. "That would be wonderful.. thank you so much!" The thought of maybe being able to come home at last was almost too much to hope for. There was still the matter of waiting while Macardil made those inquiries, before he would know whether it was safe to come in. But Trev already felt a bit better, just knowing that there was someone who believed him and that would try to help him. There was still plenty to worry about, but if he could at least know whether he could come into the city.. that would help improve his situation greatly. He could figure out the rest later.

The smile faded slightly though as he returned his thoughts to the lieutenant he'd brought up. Of course, he couldn't bring up something like that and not expect to draw more questions. "His name is Aderic Androllius. A real two-faced sort of guy. Lying is like breathing to him, too." He mentioned, as warning in case Macardil ever had an unfortunate occasion to speak to the lieutenant. It occurred to him that he'd just listed off at least three people he was familiar with who lied on a regular basis. That made him realize even more that the things he'd heard about the city and the king were probably entirely false, and he felt all the more stupid for believing any of it.

"I had no idea he was a guard until a few months ago, when I heard about it from my friend.." He paused, realizing something. "You might know him actually. Unalmis? He's been a ranger for a few years now. He knows all about this guy too. Anyway, I was..shocked to hear from him that Aderic's not only a guard, but a lieutenant. And still just as much a bully as he ever was.. at least when he's sure he can get away with it." he added, frowning to remember what Nal had told him of Ric's latest act of oppression against him. "But he knows how to fool the right people into thinking he's a saint." He added, with a roll of his eyes. "Acts like the most polite, well-mannered guy you ever met.. in front of the public eye. But I've seen where he spends his time in secret.. when no one's around that he wants to make a good impression on. I've seen him in Umbar, and the sort of people he hangs around with there." He narrowed his eyes, then returned his attention to the stew for a moment, taking another few bites.

He realized, of course, that even if he wasn't wanted, and he did return to the city, he would still have to watch out for Rip. It also briefly occurred to him that, considering the way he just described Rip as 'polite and well mannered', Macardil could easily be the same way. But he really, really doubted that, having fought alongside him and talked with him for a bit now. And he couldn't think of any reason why he'd want to deceive Trev, after all. He thought about that a little bit while he ate, and was soon finishing off the bowl of stew, and sighed as he set the bowl aside. "That was delicious. You weren't kidding about this place having good stew."

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

Aderic Androllius. He would remember that name. Even though Macardil still found it difficult to believe the city guard would not see through a two-faced liar, he recognized he might be too naive in this regard. When Trevadir mentioned his friend was Unalmis, Macardil leaned back in his chair, somewhat surprised. Yes, of course he knew Unalmis. "Unalmis joined us on the mission to the Poros," Macardil said quietly. "I would assume your friend... does not have the best view of me." Macardil put down his spoon. "I do not think everyone has been fully informed," he explained, as briefly as he could, not wanting to dwell on the matter. "So, to return to your question: yes, I know him."

A faint smile appeared on his face when Trevadir complimenting the stew. "No, I was not." Mostly, he was glad it had not changed since he was last here. Trevadir had looked like he could use a good, tasty meal, instead of yet another disappointment.

The former ranger set about gathering the medical supplies and putting them back in their box and the satchel, the way he had found them. His blue eyes surveyed the room. There was a fireplace and logs at the ready, though Trevadir probably wouldn't need them with current temperatures. The bed looked comfortable. Trevadir had eaten.

Macardil rose to his feet as he unrolled his sleeve to cover his bandaged arm. "I apologize, but I should be going. Against all odds-" a wry smile "- I have someone waiting for me." He gestured at the room. "The stew has been paid for, and so has the room, for two nights. Breakfast is included with the price of the room. However, I am not sure how long it will take me to find out more about your... status, in Minas Tirith. Where or how can I find you when I learn more? Or do we set a meeting a few days from now, regardless?"

@Arnyn


Hearing that Unalmis had been involved in the mission where Macardil's tragic incident occurred, Trev frowned slightly and nodded in understanding at the idea that Nal might not have a great opinion about Macardil. To be told what had happened, and the circumstances causing it, as well as the pardon... that was one thing. But to see it happen, and not be told about the pardon... yeah, he felt sure that Nal would probably not be thrilled to see Macardil roaming around. And Trev wasn't even entirely sure if his friend trusted him, anymore. So he had no idea whether he would be able to convince him about Macardil. Perhaps it might be best not to mention to Nal that he had met the former ranger, if he saw Nal again.

"Someone ought to tell them," He mentioned thoughtfully. "I mean, Nal would probably just.. wonder. He wouldn't react like those guys," He waved vaguely in the direction of the other tavern, "but he's got to be wondering, and confused. But then, I think he'd also have to guess that it must be alright, since you were standing up there playing for the midsummer thing, with all those rangers.. and guards.. around." He shrugged slightly. "He didn't say anything about it. But then.. we had plenty of other things to think about, that day."

Soon, Macardil was preparing to leave. Trevadir nodded upon hearing he had someone waiting for him. It was nice, at least, that he had someone to care where he was. While there were a few who must be a bit worried about Trev, they also weren't expecting him to venture into the city anytime soon. He had told Iole he was staying in Harlond, though he hadn't told her where. And a good thing, since he wasn't there anymore. And soon, the matter of where he was staying would be uncertain even to himself. Therefore.. it was quite a surprise to hear that this room was paid for for two nights, not just the one. That meant that Macardil must have anticipated that the room might be needed for longer than just bandaging themselves. And since Macardil lived in the city.. Trev realized he must have done that for Trevadir. Because the former ranger realized that Trev had lost the place he was living. Feeling slightly stunned, and a little unsure what to say exactly, he quietly stood as well. "Thank you... for everything," He smiled, offering a hand out for a handshake, if the other would take it.

The next question gave him pause. What sort of plan would be best? A couple of options occurred to him, involving certain ones who could be trusted to pass messages along to Trev. But each of those options were quickly shot down. Macardil had just said that Unalmis probably had a poor opinion of him, so it wouldn't do to involve him in passing a message along to Trev. And besides that, Iole was the only one whom he had told where to find him. And not only did he had no idea how to tell Macardil how to find her, but she wouldn't want to come out to Harlond on her own. Same with Cali, although she would be easier to direct Macardil toward, given that she worked in the ranger armory. But then, he was probably not allowed in there anyway, since he was no longer a ranger. So none of his three friends made a good option for passing messages. He certainly didn't want to involve Toby, much less his grandmother, so that left no one in the city that he could ask.

"I'll stay here, at least 'til they kick me out," He answered with a faint smile. "If it takes longer than that.." He hesitated further. Where would he go? Assuming he couldn't afford the cost of a room at this place, he really wasn't sure what other options he had. If he could get past the gate guards into the Pelennor, he might suggest that he could hang around the tree that was special to he and his friends, but could he manage that? "I got through the South Gate before, to come to the midsummer... but I'm not sure if it'd be safe to try it again. That was a really busy day... so I don't think I'll try that." He frowned thoughtfully. Again, the uncertainty was troubling. "I'm definitely NOT going back to the Siren's Embrace." He was determined on that.

Then again, he wasn't sure what sort of time frame they were talking about. A few days? A few weeks? Longer? He'd try to hang around, but if it stretched on for a very long time, he might begin to find it difficult to keep near to this inn and watch for him. And if he had to wait a very long time with no news, Trev suspected that he would decide he wasn't coming back. He'd definitely rather hear from him, even if it was 'no news yet'. "Perhaps it would be better to just agree to meet in a few days." He decided. "Then, even if there's still no news about.. that.. I can decide what to do if it seems like it'll be a lot longer before we know anything."

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond
After midsummer

When Trevadir said someone ought to tell 'them", Macardil simply held back a sigh. Being told as much was one thing. Really believing it was quite another. But yes, perhaps it would be better if the rangers were at least told of how those events had truly come to pass. Unfortunately, he was in no place to do so. It was out of his hands.

"Then I will come back here the day after tomorrow, in the late afternoon," Macardil decided smoothly. "I might not know much more by then," he warned again. "But we will see. And though I do not doubt that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and finding your own solutions, two minds can be better than one. Sometimes it can even be helpful to simply speak your thoughts aloud to someone else to see things more clearly. At least that has been my experience in the past."

He threw his cloak over his shoulder and held out a hand to Trevadir. "The day after tomorrow," he confirmed as he shook the flutist's hand once, as if the gesture struck the agreement. HIs blue eyes surveyed Trevadir as if he was trying to estimate the odds of the young man running off before then. This was an opportunity. Hopefully Trevadir recognized it as such.

@Arnyn

"Day after tomorrow," Trev nodded as they shook hands. He would make sure to be here. He had little reason to leave, until the room was no longer covered by the payment. But if he did have to leave for some reason, he'd make sure to be back by the late afternoon. Perhaps he could try to earn a little money, since he'd need some either way this thing turned out. Remembering some of the ways he'd used to earn a little money to help his grandmother, before he left, he began thinking of a few ideas. Waving after the former ranger as he left, Trev closed the door after him and stood silently for a moment before returning to his chair. The events of the past couple of hours required some thought.

It almost seemed unreal to think that after all this time, he might be only a couple of days away from being able to come home at last. Could it really happen? He wanted very much to hope that what Macardil found would be what he wanted to be true. But what if he found that there were, in fact, warrants out for Trev's arrest? He took a deep breath. At least then he would know. And he could figure out what to do from there. Macardil's offer to help him think of options was reassuring, as well. So if it did turn out to be the case, perhaps he wouldn't be completely out of luck. There was a chance now that his problems might be solvable, that he might be able to move past his mistakes and stop all this fearful hiding. Yes... there was a glimmer of hope now rising up inside; an unfamiliar feeling, but not unwelcome.

Rain flowed from the eaves, forming a steady stream that spilled down from the roof and into puddles below. A percussion of raindrops hitting the roof of the porch overhead seemed almost meant to go along with the rhythm of the notes flowing from the flute. The tune was made up on the spot, actually, in order to make it go along with the rhythm which Trevadir heard in the rain. It was a cheery tune, despite the drab look of the sky as the rain watered the earth. Because Trev figured people would rather hear music to brighten up the otherwise dull, rainy day.

He hadn’t exactly anticipated rain today, but it wasn’t that big of a problem for him. His hat, the same one he'd worn to the midsummer festival, sat on the ground, only slightly damp. He had tried to keep it sheltered as much as possible, considering straw and rain weren't a great mix. There were already a few coins inside, although he had hoped to gain a lot more before the end of the day. Although he didn't exactly need the money right now, he was trying to think ahead. Regardless of whatever news Macardil brought back, he was going to need money; whether that meant sticking around Harlond a bit longer (in which case, he would much rather stay at the inn Macardil had taken him to, than any of those he could actually afford) or if it meant he might end up going to the city. Because, although Trev wanted very much to go home to his grandmother as if nothing ever happened.. he was very nervous about that. And so he’d made up his mind that he was going to give it a bit of time, first, and that meant he would need to stay somewhere in the meanwhile. Then there was food to think of. And although he could stitch up the shirt, he would sort of rather buy a new one, since it had blood stains on it.. and so on.

As another couple of coins clinked into the hat, Trev nodded his thanks to the couple heading inside the store, and continued playing as they hurried out of the rain to get inside the store whose porch he was occupying. The store’s owner had said it would be alright if Trev hung around for a few hours, for which he was very grateful. Perhaps he thought it would draw customers in. Trev just hoped to gather enough money to be a bit more prepared for whatever expenses might come up in the near future.

“There you are.” A far-too-familiar voice nearby spoke.

The note faded rapidly as Trev froze, and lowered his flute reluctantly. He held back a sigh, and lifted his gaze to meet that of his father. “Go away.”

Devedir joined him under the porch overhang and folded his arms, shaking his head in disappointment. “How very ungrateful of you. After all that I’ve done for you.”

“Ungrateful?” Trev echoed, bewildered about what he was supposed to be grateful for. “After what you..” A wry laugh burst out. “Oh yes. I should be thanking you for ruining my life. For making my friends distrust me. Keeping me away from my family. Making me miserable for the last five years. And while I’m at it, I’ll thank you for leaving us, too. In fact, I’m so grateful about that one, I’d really love for you to do it again.” His tone hardened at the last bit, and he glared at the man responsible for the majority of his troubles. “I want nothing to do with you, or your ship, or any of that, Dev.” Trev retorted. “So just get away from me.”

Dev rolled his eyes, with the expression on his face as if he were boredly waiting for Trev to finish his little rant. “Well there is the matter of how many times I’ve prevented the crew from tearing into you, after all the sabotage you've done to my ship. I've been very patient, enduring all of that. The crew were not so.. understanding.” He pointed out calmly. “If not for me.. you wouldn’t have seen the last few birthdays.”

“Like you even remember my birthday.” Trev replied bitterly, rolling his eyes. “Or, as I remember, you said it ‘wasn’t a big deal’..”

“You do tend to make too much out of everything, Trevadir.” Dev sighed. “You are..so dramatic.”

“What do you want?” Trev took the opportunity to clean the moisture from his flute.

“I want to invite you back.” Dev answered in a patient tone. “I..miss you. Son.”

“You sound so sincere. Dad.” Trev scoffed, and glanced up in time to catch the brief flicker of irritation in Dev's face. He knew it irked Dev to be called that. He’d made it very clear he would not be called 'dad', or 'father', or any of those sort of terms.

“The point is,” Dev sighed, and rested a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I want you back. You are my son, and I would like for you to remain with me. Where you belong. Where I can keep you..safe.” He frowned as if in concern.

Trev frowned and quietly shrugged his hand off of his shoulder. “Well, that’s too bad, I guess you'd better get used to disappointments. I'm staying here. This is where I belong.” He didn't exactly mean 'this spot right here' but didn't feel like specifying.

“This?” Dev raised an eyebrow, and glanced down with disdain at the hat containing a handful of coins. “Yes, I can see you’re really quite successful.” He remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You might even have enough there to buy yourself a drink of ale." He rolled his eyes.

"Well, not here," Trev admitted, and hesitated slightly. "I don't know exactly where I belong, but it isn't with you."

"When you were with me, your pockets were filled with gold, remember Trev?” He smiled, sliding an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Don’t you remember how wonderful it could be, having anything we wanted, whenever we wanted? Expensive clothes, incredible food… just like those snooty, rich Lords back in Dol Amroth.. better even! We weren't weighed down with all those stupid rules and expectations...”

“I told you plenty of times I wanted nothing to do with that stuff. I don't care about expensive clothes and all that.” Trev pushed his arm away. “and you kept me trapped there like a prisoner.” He clenched his jaw, trying to restrain his temper. “Now I’m finally free, and I’m not about to go back to it. So just keep away from me. I told you, I’m done with your way of life. If you really wanted to be in my life, you’d give up your criminal ways, and start over with an honest life. You could do it, you know. If you wanted to.”

“Oh, like you’re going to? That isn’t going to work, Trev.” Devedir scoffed. “Those guards will grab you the second they spot you coming toward the gate. They’ll lock you up in the deepest, darkest dungeon… to await your execution. I don’t want you to die like that. Believe me..son.. once you’ve started on this path, there’s no hope for our sort ever going back to an ‘honest life’.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Trev frowned, unsure if it was so much ‘wrong’ as ‘lying’. “I am starting over. I’m going to…try to salvage my old life the best I can. And nothing you say is going to stop me. All that nonsense about the guards.. and the king.. I believed all of that for far too long. Now I know it’s a all bunch of lies.” He glared at him.

“Lies, huh?” Dev frowned. “And who told you this?”

“Someone who knows better than anyone.”

“That traitor you met up with last night?” Dev shook his head in disappointment. “I heard about that. I've heard about that guy. I sure wouldn't trust him. So you’re going to gamble your life based on what a stranger said? A stranger who betrayed his commander.. and comrades?”

Trev frowned, not entirely sure how to answer that, or even if he wanted to justify it with an answer.

“Trev,” Dev sighed. “Don’t be foolish. You never had it so good as when you were with me. I..” He frowned. “Scar and Grisly did that to you, did they?” He motioned to his bruised eye.

Trev gave a small shrug. “I’m sure you sent them, so why bother asking? Didn’t they report back to you about how it went last night?”

The rain started coming down heavier as they spoke. The puddles just beyond the overhang were dancing from the raindrops. Trev stowed his flute away in his belt. The dagger was strapped to the side of his leg, where it was hidden by his trousers. He had decided not to trust leaving it hidden in the room, after having come close to the possibility of losing it. He leaned down and picked up his hat, rescuing it from a small rivulet of water as the puddles increased in size and began to spill across into the dry section of ground under the overhang.

“You caused a lot of damage to Grisly’s hand.” Dev commented. “It’s going to be a while before he can be properly useful on the ship.”

His frown told Trev that he was quite unhappy about this. But he was hiding his anger, that much Trev could tell because he knew him well enough by now to recognize it. “You’ll find something for him to do.” Trev answered in an unconcerned tone. He was careful to keep any thoughts of guilt securely locked away. He wasn’t falling for that, either.

“That’s not the point.” Dev shook his head. “I didn’t send them after you, Trev. They just went to the tavern to enjoy some time on shore. The fact is, the whole crew is very angry at you. There’s plenty who’d like to see you dead. And now those two are going to be even more angry at you about last night, especially Grisly.”

“That’s supposed to make me want to come back?” Trev raised the eyebrow that wasn’t bruised. “Real convincing.”

“No,” Dev rolled his eyes. “What I’m trying to tell you is that they’re going to continue coming after you, as long as you’re an available target. They want revenge. You angered.. well, all of us, really. Even me. I’m not happy with you, I’ll admit. You cost us quite a bit of money with that last stunt… and you will have to suffer the consequences…regardless if you choose to return to us or stay on your own.” He warned him. “The difference is… how severe those consequences will be.”

“I’m not going with you, Dev.”

“With me, you’d be a lot safer.” Dev reminded him. “There are several who would like to kill you. I wouldn’t allow that… if you were in my crew. You know that. But out here..” He shrugged. “What can I do to stop them?”

“You could give them orders to leave me alone.” Trev pointed out with a little scoff.

“I have, of course,” Dev replied with a sigh. “But you know how they are. You caused..quite a lot of embarrassment, not to mention robbing us of the payment we would have gotten for delivering that merchandise.”

“Merchandise?” Trev clenched his jaw, turning fully to face Dev. “My friends are not merchandise." He informed the man, his tone suggesting he was barely holding back his own temper. "People are not merchandise, Dev. And you know what,” He narrowed his non-swollen eye, “the way I remember her, and how grandma speaks of her.. my mother wouldn't like you one bit. She would not approve of the things you do. I think she might even hate you if she knew you now.”

“Leave her out of this,” Dev retorted sharply, then took a slow breath to pause, and collect himself again. “That’s all beside the point, Trev,”

“Just give up, alright? I’m through with you. Done. Finished. Just forget about me. You had no trouble with that before.” Trev stuffed the coins in his pocket and scowled. “If you really cared about me, you’d tell them that I’m off limits. But you’re using this whole situation to try and trick me back under your control, and it won’t work, alright?” He glared at the man. “Just stay away from me.”

“Trevadir,” Dev caught his arm as he started to walk away, and turned him back toward him. “You’re making a big mistake.”

“No, my big mistake was the one I made five years ago, when I first spoke to you.” Trev yanked his arm free from his grasp. “You don’t care about me, and I don’t care about you. So stop pretending, and we'll go our separate ways.”

“You’re wrong,” Dev frowned. “I do care. You’re my son. You’re..her son.” He paused. “You saved my life once. I know you care, or you wouldn’t have done that.”

Trev cringed slightly inside, but was careful to keep it from showing on his face. “I was just a stupid kid then.” He smiled wryly. “I’m not as stupid now. Who knows if I’d do the same thing again?” With that, he strode away from the overhang, anxious to get as far away from this man as he could get.

Dev caught up to him and blocked his path, ignoring the rain pounding down on them both. “Don’t walk away from me, Trevadir. I’m your father…”

“Yeah, too bad you didn’t remember that when you left.” Trev retorted, scowling. “Get out of my way.”

“No.” Dev frowned. “I know it wasn’t…right, leaving and all, but I’m trying to make up for it. I’m trying to be your father, now. If you’ll let me.”

“No, you aren’t.” Trev replied with a roll of his eyes. “You’re just trying to manipulate me. Like you always do. You’re trying to get me back under your thumb, any way you can.” Trev shook his head, shaking drops of water from his hair. “It’s not going to work. I’m leaving, and I don’t want to see you again, ever.” He pushed past Dev and kept walking swiftly, hands clenched into fists, ignoring the puddles he splashed through.

“Trev, come back,” Dev called, frowning. “I don’t want you to leave...”

Trev turned with a wry laugh. “Yeah? Well, now you know how that feels, huh?” He smirked faintly to himself, feeling some satisfaction in having had a chance to say that, then kept walking down the street, determined to get away from Dev while he was ahead... and before the pirate managed to wear down Trev’s defenses against his deception.

@Arnyn

It took a bit of time to calm down after the unpleasant encounter with his father, once he was back in the room. Trev changed into dry clothes and hung up the others to dry, then paced around for a little while. The conversation replayed in his head. He thought of all the things that had been said, all the things he might have said differently, things he wished he'd thought of to say, and more. Too bad there wasn't anything in here that he could throw or kick or punch. He was so frustrated, he wanted to do something to get it out.

After a bit he stopped in front of the window and stood watching the rain against the window. He thought back, further, to the conversation with Macardil the night before, and how he'd felt when he left. Hopeful. Eager for news. Like he'd caught a glimpse of a light at the end of a tunnel, guiding him back toward home. He took a deep breath, trying to hold onto that feeling. And then inspiration began to flow. Grabbing paper, a quill, ink, Trev got comfortable in the seat by the window. With a wooden tray in his lap to serve as a writing surface, the words began to flow onto the paper. Soon he had blocked out all else, intent on getting these words down, making it flow properly, even humming a potential tune here and there.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

After speaking to Arnyn earlier that day, Macardil had decided not to let Trevadir wait. And since he knew where the flutist would be sleeping tonight, he knew exactly where to find him. In order not to waste his own time, Macardil had waited to leave so he would arrive in Harlond in the late evening. It was the best way to make sure Trevadir would be in his room.

The weather was against him, so he had chosen one of his most water repellent cloaks, one that would cover him well and leave the least change for the rain to drench him. He had a clean and dry cloak in a pack in one of the saddlebags, as well, for the journey home.

Once he had stabled his black horse, he inquired with the owner about the room. No, it had not been abandoned. Yes, the young sir should be up there. Macardil thanked the man with a tip and made his way upstairs, his pack slung over his shoulder. He knocked on the door and waited. When the moments passed and no answer came, he knocked again. After waiting a few more heartbeats, Macardil frowned. "Trevadir?" he called out, just loud enough for his voice to travel to the other side of the door.

@Arnyn

All was quiet for a long time, with only the sound of the rain outside and the soft scratching of the quill, broken only by brief moments where he hummed part of a tune to see whether it fit the words. The rain was somewhat soothing, and he couldn't help thinking it was much nicer when one is inside, safe and dry, rather than outside on a ship trying to keep the ship afloat. That was another thing he wouldn't miss, on top of all the other things.

Suddenly a knock broke the silence. Trev had been staring out of the window for a few moments, thinking of how to word the next line, and jumped at the sound. His head snapped around to stare at the door, alarm flooding his mind. Who could that be? Macardil wasn't due back until about this time tomorrow. He didn't know anyone else around Harlond, who would be coming to visit him for any reason. And no one should have known where to find him. Unless... had Dev followed him?

Trev had been so upset earlier, he hadn't thought about that possibility, and he realized now that he wouldn't have noticed if Dev did trail after him. Heart racing, he quietly set his writing aside and stood, then glanced at the window next to him. Shoot, he shouldn't have been sitting by the window! Maybe Dev had seen him and figured out which room was his? He really did not want to have another round of 'conversation' with the captain. And then again, it occurred to him that if Dev could find where he was, perhaps it was some of the crew. Coming to finish what they'd started last night, perhaps...

As Trev grabbed his flute from the windowsill, trying to prepare for the worse scenario, the knock came again. Only this time, it was shortly followed by a voice calling to him. Trev blinked, then released a breath he'd been holding. Macardil. Relieved, Trev crossed the room swiftly, then paused before opening the door partially. He took a quick glance of the hallway, then opened it wider to let him in. "I wasn't expecting you 'til tomorrow." He mentioned, a little concerned there might be something wrong. "I thought it might be.. someone else." He admitted, yet unwilling to say who he had feared it could have been. Noticing the pack, he asked curiously, "What's going on?"

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

The rain was dripping from his cloak. Right before the door opened partway, Macardil realized a small puddle was dripping into existence on the floorboards of the landing. He nodded when Trevadir said he hadn't been expecting him until tomorrow. "I know," Macardil said, stepping into the room. He put down the back next to the door and took off his wet cloak as to avoid dripping further into the room. He hung it up at one of the pegs near the door. "I did not mean to scare you. But I figured it would be rude of me to wait once I had the answer you are looking for." He turned to face Trevadir and raised an eyebrow. "Unless you are too worried about other visitors, and that is something which needs to be addressed first?"

@Arnyn

Sliding his flute into its place on his belt, Trevadir closed the door once Macardil was inside. "No.. I just..." He hesitated at the mention of expecting visitors, and glanced toward where he'd been sitting by the window. "I ran into Dev, earlier," He admitted with a little scowl, with a bit of a scornful tone to his voice. "Kept trying to convince me to come back to his crew. Cause they're mad at me and want to kill me, and that's supposed to convince me because he says he'll protect me if I agree to go with him." He rolled his eyes and frowned. "I was so upset and anxious to get away from him, I didn't think about making sure he didn't follow me.. and, well I got nervous when I heard a knock at the door. I didn't expect you til tomorrow, so I feared.. well. I guess they aren't that likely to have knocked, now that I think about it." He frowned slightly, then shrugged, trying to put all such concerns out of mind..

"Anyway... You have news?" He asked, turning his attention to the former ranger. He hardly dared to hope, yet couldn't help his voice taking on a hopeful sound to it. The idea that he would have come back a day earlier than expected, in such a downpour, certainly seemed to imply that he had found out something important. But it also occurred to him that perhaps it was bad news. Perhaps he was wanted, and, being a friendly and considerate sort of person, Macardil had come to warn him or something. There was a third possibility that occurred to him, but he tried his best not to let enter his mind, but instead hoped for the best and most favorable news.. that he was safe to go home at last.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

His eyebrows lifted when Trevadir explained what had happened with his father. "No wonder you were concerned about who was outside your door," he said. "Coming today was a good choice then, I think."

Macardil claimed the seat he'd used the day before. He nodded seriously at Trevadir's question. "I do. I spoke with the Ranger Lieutenant. Devedir Thôrmaetha is a wanted man. But not Trevadir Thormaetha. There was no mention of you, or of 'Devedir's son', on the wanted list. There was not even a description that fit you. It was one of the many lies they told you, Trevadir."

After a brief pause, he continued. "And yes - I am sure. The City Guard does not share everything with the Rangers, but they share that much. The ledger the Lieutenant used would be no older than a week, two at the most. I know how it works from when I was in her position. She took the ledger out in front of me. It was the real thing. She went through the entries. You were not in it."

The corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

@Arnyn

Trev found himself holding his breath when Macardil declared that he did, indeed, have news. This was a big moment. The one he'd been waiting for, for a long time. And now that it came to it, he was a little nervous. This could change things for him. Or, it could bring him to despair, if the news was bad. Whatever Macardil had come to tell him... it would have a big impact on what Trevadir did next. And he was well aware that he was putting a lot of trust into someone he'd only met about this time yesterday. And of course, he knew that there were people who, in Macardil's place, might easily lie to Trevadir about his wanted status so they could lead him straight to the guards and collect a reward. The sort of people he'd been in association with for the past few years were like that. And that made it difficult for him to trust someone he didn't know for certain wouldn't do that. But then.. he felt fairly certain that Macardil was not that sort of person, despite those men calling him a traitor. The things that had been spoken last night had inspired some trust. Trev felt sure he had judged the man's character well enough. And he really really hoped he wasn't wrong.

Macardil's next words left Trevadir a little stunned. He was not on any wanted list. "I'm not..." He slowly breathed out, then sank down onto the chair opposite Macardil, feeling a little dazed as Macardil went on, assuring him that he wasn't considered a criminal at all. "Not wanted..." It was hard to wrap his head around it, and to believe it might be true. As Macardil went on, it became more and more evident that it was absolutely true. How else would he have learned his family name, when Trev knew he hadn't told him that? And his father's full name, he hadn't told him that either. "I can go home." He swallowed down a lump threatening to rise into his throat, realizing that his greatest desire had been a possibility within his reach all this time. "I could've gone home months ago... years ago.." Remembering the other time he'd come close to returning, when another ranger had nearly talked him into it. If only he hadn't listened to Dev's lies. If only he hadn't given up...

Resting his forehead in his hands(careful of his bruised eye), elbows resting on the table, Trev took a few moments to recover from the surge of emotions that swept over him; frustration that he had lived for so long with these lies, anger that he'd been told all these lies to begin with, along with joy that he had his wish at last, relief that there was nothing stopping him from going home. Excitement, as well as trepidation, at the thought of coming home. A little nervous, not knowing how his family would receive him, but just being able to come into the city would be a big step for him. His friends could help with that next step, perhaps. And a little amazement that after so long, it only took about the space of a day to vanquish all of the lies he'd been told for years.

Once the tide of emotions had ebbed somewhat, Trev took a couple of deep breaths before lifting his head from his hands, focusing again on Macardil. "Thank you, Macardil." He spoke with heartfelt sincerity. "For... finding out about this, but also for.. not waiting until tomorrow to tell me." He smiled. "I thought this was going to be another miserable day..." He let out a little laugh. "And now, you've given me the best news I've heard... for a while." It was even better than what Iole had told him, about what his grandmother believed. He glanced at the window again and gave a little shake of his head, somewhat amazed as he added, "You even came all the way out here in the rain, to tell me." He looked back at Macardil, a bit amazed that he would do such a thing.

(Solo post)

The field was quiet today. All that remained of the festivities were the charred remains of a bonfire, and a few scattered remnants of food and other discarded items, leftover from the crowd which had enjoyed the feast and festivities the previous day. Toby had much thinking to do. It seemed strange, how quiet it all was, after all the cheerful crowds that had been here, and how much had changed in the space of 12 hours or so. This time yesterday, he had been protesting his grandmother sending him off to be of aid to the carpenter who had long been their next door neighbor. Only he hadn't been a carpenter then. And he was also different, at least, from how Toby remembered him. He didn't seem quite so scary anymore, although the boy still had some doubts.

He stood now beneath the shade of the old oak, standing tall and proud in the middle of a sea of grasses. A symbol was carved deep into the bark. Overlapping initials. He sighed sadly, his finger tracing over the T. It wasn't for Toby, although he did have that same initial. He had not been there the day this was carved. His brother hadn't let him come. Toby didn't remember what he had done, instead. Whatever the case, Trevadir had come home that day with his hand bleeding heavily from a deep gash. All five had matching ones, all on their left hands. Cali had later assured Toby that it was for the best that he had stayed behind, because the cuts hurt very much and he was too little to understand, and so on and so forth.

It wasn't out of jealousy that Toby stood now, looking at the mark those friends had left on this tree, their tree, as it were. Of course, it didn't belong to them, but they had spent a great deal of time there, together. Sometimes Toby had been with them, but he had been too little to climb up in the branches, like the rest of them. They were all older than him. But he wasn't little anymore. He could climb now, and climb he did. Soon he was sitting nestled in his usual place, comfortable, hidden by the thick foliage. Once situated comfortably, the boy turned his gaze toward the South, where lay Harlond, and the sea. Somewhere out there, his brother was sailing around on some ship, or that was what he had last heard. "Where are you now?" He muttered, sadly. He swung his legs, one hand gripping the branch just above him, to keep his balance as he gazed across the land through a gap in the leaves. One day, he imagined, he might see Trevadir come strolling across the field, on his way home.

Often, Toby felt that his memory of his older brother was gradually growing fainter. He could remember what he looked like the last time he saw him, but that was five years ago. He knew that he must look older, but he had no idea how he might look by now. Unalmis seemed to look the same as always, but he saw him often enough that he couldn't really think of how different he looked compared to five years ago. But, while his mental image of his brother's face may be fading, there was something that didn't fade. His desire to see Trevadir again, and his hope that he still lived.

The sun climbed slowly, an hour of the morning passed in silence as Toby sat, his back leaned against the tree trunk, simply gazing hopefully across the land. After a while, he was tempted to give in to the desire to doze here, but knew that would be dangerous. Besides that, he remembered, he had agreed to come to talk to Addhor about the job he had been offered. At noon, because he had no school today. Toby sat up, stretching his arms. It was nearly noon already, judging by the sun's position. Time to climb back down.

By now, Toby had climbed the tree often enough to know the easiest, and swiftest, route up or down. He came almost daily, even for a few minutes, and so he knew it wouldn't take him long to find his feet on the ground again. Pausing as he shifted his weight onto one of the lowest branches, preparing to hop down the last bit to the ground, Toby stopped in surprise. There was a little hollow hole in the trunk. No doubt, some squirrel or owl had at one time used it for a nest, but for a long time it had been empty, except for the occasions when Trev and his friends used to sometimes use it for a hiding notes and trinkets, either that they didn't want their guardians to find, or that they wished for each other to find.

But not today. Toby had forgotten to check it on his way up, and might have done the same on the way down, except that as his face came level with the hole, the light glinted off of something inside and threatened to blind him for a few seconds. The sun, having changed position in the sky by this time, gleamed on something shiny. Tobedir shifted his weight back onto the thick branch and peered closer. Had some squirrel stashed something inside? He checked this little hidey-hole frequently, and had even checked it early yesterday morning. The letter he had left there, in the hope that his brother might come across it someday (and refreshed it once a month) was still there. But what was this new item?

Reaching in cautiously, Toby was surprised to feel what could only be the hilt of a dagger. He drew it out, eyes wide. That certainly wasn't there yesterday! Slowly, in awe, he drew the dagger from its sheath, and examined it. It was quite stunning in its beauty. Elaborate, but not too fancy for using. It looked in pristine condition. A mark was stamped into the blade, near the hilt, and it was a mark that he recognized immediately. His best friend, Iuldir, had told him the history behind it, the last time they saw each other. Toby had seen it often enough growing up, and knew it well. "Dringolben..." He murmured, frowning. This wasn't any blade that the family had available in their shop, back when they had a shop. This one, he felt sure, was a custom-made weapon.

Taking a glance around, he saw that if he didn't set off now, he would certainly be late. He'd decide later what to do about this dagger. Perhaps Cali could tell him about it, since Iuldir was far away in Dol Amroth, and she would likely know more about this than her nephew. Sliding the dagger back into its sheath, Tobedir secured it carefully in both hands before hopping out of the tree (after checking that the note was still there) and then set off at a run toward the city. It definitely wouldn't be good for him to be late for the meeting with Addhor!


(Continued here
Referencing things mentioned in this post)

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Trevadir looked positively flabbergasted. Macardil felt sorry for him as he watched the young man slump down in the other chair. The former ranger nodded when Trevadir said 'I can go home'. The part about months ago, struck a familiar cord with Macardil. He, too, had once simply needed one person and a kindness on their part to get himself out of a terrible situation. He understood.

And so he let the young flutist work through his emotions without making light of it or making it weightier than it already was. Macardil looked at the room, only intermittently looking back to Trevadir. The young man could take his time to process. When Trevadir's first words drew his attention, it was almost a surprise to hear them. Trevadir was thanking him. Macardil smiled at the brief laugh that escaped the flutist. He raised his hand as if to wave away the last comment and simply nodded again. Yes, he had come out in the rain. But despite the downpour, it was warm out, and he had been dressed appropriately.

"It gladdens me to hear you are pleased with the news," he said. "Now, there is one thing you might not be as pleased about," he added, not leaving much of a pause. It was best not to wait with these things. "I spoke with the Ranger Lieutenant, but given my current... well, lack of any rank whatsoever..." Macardil smiled wrily at this, "It was a judgment call on her part to share this information with me. She disclosed a condition only after telling me you were not wanted." The black-haired man slanted his head. "You could say it was a demand on her part. Clearly, there was no room for negotiation. She wants to see for whom she gave up this intel. She wants to meet you upon your arrival in Minas Tirith. We agreed on a time tomorrow at an inn not often frequented by the City Guard - unless I send word you will be arriving at a later date."

Macardil's blue eyes gauged Trevadir's. "I told her this might make you wary. She said the whole point of the meeting was to make her feel like there was no need to be wary, and perhaps the meeting could do the same for you." He tapped a finger on the small table. "As I said - there was no room for negotiation. What do you think?"

@Arnyn

It seemed with every bit of good news, there was at least one 'bad news'. And soon after, it came. Trevadir paused as Macardil spoke of this lieutenant making some sort of request..or rather, demand. He caught his breath, waiting to hear the demand. Meet her? He had expected to hear something else, though he wasn't quite sure what. Still, he couldn't help wondering about this. Could it be some sort of trick? Not from Macardil, he felt fairly sure about that, but he didn't know anything about this lieutenant he spoke of. Yet, the fact that it was a ranger lieutenant, rather than a city guard lieutenant, made him more inclined to think about it, rather than refusing outright. Plus the fact that Macardil said she made it clear that it could not be that guard Trev had warned Macardil about before.

He sat back in his chair, thinking for a moment. It did indeed make him a bit wary. He couldn't help that. It had been years since he was in the city, and since he heard anything about rangers, really. Who was in charge of them now? He'd heard there had been many changes since the war happened. And since he had no idea who this lady lieutenant might be, he had no idea what sort of person she might be. "How well do you know her?" He wondered, glancing at Macardil. "Do you trust her? I mean..." He hesitated, realizing this could be taken the wrong way by some, but hoped the former ranger would understand his reason for asking, "you don't think she would try to trick me?" He had to check, just to be sure. "If you're sure that it's no trick.." He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll meet her." He wouldn't want to make Macardil a liar by refusing this meeting, after Macardil had already arranged it, and gave his word.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

"I do not know more by reputation than by association," he answered honestly. That probably needed some clarification, he realized after speaking the words. "We worked together on one mission, during which I could find no fault in her character. In my experience, she's calm. Analytical. But I have seen her be very... warm, as well." He remembered seeing her sitting with Pele at the fort where they had their meals. And he also remembered Pele coming to him shortly afterwards with information he was very glad to have. "From what I can tell, she cares about people." Macardil ran a hand along his jaw. "My personal experience has been limited but positive. And she has a long track record with the Rangers in Minas Tirith. Many of the veterans trust her with their life. That should count for something."

"She set the time in the afternoon. That would mean you would still use your room here this night." Macardil gestured at the place. "You found it sufficient?" Then he thought of something rather important. "Will you have a place to stay in Minas Tirith?"

@Arnyn

He listened thoughtfully. It would be hard to vouch for a person's character when you haven't known them much. Trevadir nodded slowly as Macardil said what he could of this lady lieutenant. What little he could say of the woman seemed to bode well. It did not sound as if she was one for trickery or deception, and that was a comforting thought. He considered the other part; that many rangers trusted this lady with their lives. He thought of Nal, wishing he was here, that he could ask him what he would say about this lieutenant, but Nal was not here, and he could not ask him anything. Trev took a slow breath and nodded slightly. "Tomorrow afternoon then," He answered thoughtfully, finding it hard to imagine that he could actually be in Minas Tirith by this time tomorrow. It seemed... almost too good to be true.

Macardil's question then drew him out of his thoughts. Sufficient? "Oh, yes. This place was very nice," He would have added more, about it being nicer than any lodgings he'd seen in a long time, but the second question caught him off guard. A place to stay in Minas Tirith? Trev hesitated for a moment, unsure how to give a proper reply to that. Off and on during the day, he had thought about what he might do once he got home, and where he might stay. But until now, he had not completely dared to hope that he might actually be able to enter the city. Even though he had left a message for Renia, letting her know what had happened and that he might be going home at last, he still hadn't been certain.

"Oh, I'll be alright as far as that's concerned," He smiled, shrugging so as to make light of that issue. "I have my friends. Family too," He left out his reluctance to contact his family just yet. Perhaps he wanted to be sure of how they would feel about his return, before confronting them with that news. "They'll help me find somewhere.. as soon as I find a way to let them know that I've come home," It still sounded strange, and felt strange, to think of coming home at last. Unreal. As if he was dreaming, and might wake up at any moment. It was only a couple of weeks ago that he had been forced to walk away from his friends as they all parted from the Midsummer, after they begged him to come back with them. They hadn't understood why he didn't, but they would help him find someplace to stay. He already knew they wanted him back home. It was his family he wasn't sure about.

"So, what is your plan for tonight? Are you going to stay? Or, go back tonight.. in the rain?" Trev wondered, trying to turn the topic back away from himself and where he would live. He was unwilling to have Macardil feel that he needed to do even more for him.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Well. Trevadir was dealing with meeting with Arnyn much better than Macardil had anticipated. That did make things easier. When the flutist said he would find accommodations in Minas Tirith, the former Ranger nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "In case you find yourself in a tight spot and unable to find a roof over your head, you can come find me. I will give you my address tomorrow." He said it lightly, yet in a way that would clearly not accept any protest.

"My plan for tonight?" Macardil looked at Trevadir with a half smile. "To check your wound and change the bandage, for one. It has been a day." He hadn't been entirely sure of what he would do yet, but Ziranphel already knew he might stay out for the night and why. He was going to let it depend on how smoothly the discussion with Trevadir about meeting the Lieutenant would go and whether he got the idea Trevadir might turn into a flight risk. As it turned out, no discussion was necessary. If anything, Trevadir was giving every impression that he would cooperate fully and simply stay at the inn until it was time to go to the White City. But now that Macardil had heard how the young man had run into his father and what he had feared upon hearing his knock at the door...

No. He would not be returning to Minas Tirith tonight. "I will be taking another room, and spend the night at the inn. If you do not mind."

@Arnyn

Check his wound, right. Despite having not forgotten that he had a wound, the thought of checking on it had slipped Trev's mind somewhat. He had gotten soaked earlier, walking back in the downpour, but had pressed a towel against the bandage and patted it dry as best he could. It was hard to do much about it, on his own. The bandage was uncomfortably damp still, but he had ignored that as well as he could and had put on the same shirt he'd been wearing when he got the injury, since the other was still damp. He had washed the blood out the best he could, and had stitched up the tear. "Did you get your wound checked when you got back into town?" Trev wondered, slightly more concerned about Macardil's. It had come from a knife, he thought, rather than a bottle which had previously held alcohol. Probably more likely to get any sort of infection, if he remembered correctly from the various things his grandmother, and later Cali's mother, used to tell them about open wounds.

Hearing the rest of Macardil's plans, he was a bit surprised. "Another room? Isn't it kind of expensive here?" It was definitely much more to rent a room at this inn than at the Siren, he knew. "You already paid for this one..." It seemed almost wasteful, spending money on a second room when this one was already paid for. "Unless you just prefer to have another room, you don't have to. I could sleep on the floor and let you have the bed tonight," Trev offered, trying to be helpful so that the man wouldn't have to spend even more money because of him. "I'm used to the floor," He added, meaning to assure him that he didn't mind such an arrangement at all. "At least this one doesn't pitch up and down and side to side.." He added, with a little laugh, an attempt at making light of the matter. "Anyway.. it's up to you of course. It's just... you've already spent so much of your money, all because of me," He gave a little shrug.

He remembered, of course, that Macardil had said he'd grown up with plenty of money, and that he had more than he spent. Still, it was a big contrast compared to how Trev had grown up, with his grandmother struggling to earn enough money to keep both the boys fed and clothed, yet still scrounging together just enough to pay for them both to have some education. Unnecessary expenses were practically unheard of for their family, and it was hard to shake that habit even after the years spent with his father, who stole from others and had no shortage of money, lavish clothes, and other luxuries that Trev had no interest in. He'd found it impossible to enjoy any of that after learning that it was stolen, or had cost other's their lives... Trev had rejected such things for himself. And the past several months, he'd had to support himself on very little coin.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

He held back a smile. His own skills were not at all bad - he was good at cleaning, stitching and knowing how to deal with a wound in the field, but the more refined knowledge of mixing herbs and such into salves and potions was beyond him and therefore he would no call his knowledge advanced. Yet he'd had no concerns about how he had treated the wound. "Someone took a look at my wound, yes. And again today." Karis' skills were better than his own and she had found no fault with his work, although she had used a salve on it and changed the bandage. She had let him take some of the salve with him, today.

When Trevadir asked if the tavern wasn't expensive, and continued to voice his concern about the money Macardil was spending, he had to hold back from replying too fast. The tavern was not low budget, but it was nowhere near what he would call expensive. It was quite possible that it would be difficult to find a place in Harlond that qualified as expensive in Dol Amroth. However, Macardil realized that for people who did not have any money (or none to spare) that the expense of a second room, even in a mid-range tavern, would seem extravagant.

But there was no way he was going to let Trevadir sleep on the floor. And there was no need for him to do so himself.

"I have thought about the extra expense beforehand, and discussed taking a room with my betrothed," Macardil said slowly. It was, perhaps, a bit of a fib. They had discussed him taking a room to stay at Harlond for the night, but they had not really spoken about the cost. Karis knew it was not an issue, though. At least she had not broached the subject when they had been talking. "It does not pose a problem."

Preferring to steer away from the topic of money, and the fact he had it, Macardil retrieved his pack and opened it on the small table, taking out a small jar of salve, clean bandages and two other jars - which he would only need in case the wound had turned. "Let me have a look, then."

@Arnyn

He was glad to hear that Macardil's wound had been checked again. At least one of them had remembered. He hoped his own wasn't too bad off, since he'd forgotten to check it today. Which was perhaps understandable, since it was in such a location that was difficult and awkward for him to check it, himself. As for his bruises, he'd had nothing really he could do about that, without any sort of supplies. He hadn't taken a look at his face in any mirrors since the fight, but he could just guess how his eye must look. The back of his wrist had turned a purplish color from where it had taken the blow from the pirate's elbow. While that had taken most of the impact, his eye still hurt a lot.

As Macardil explained about how he had already discussed this all with his betrothed, Trev nodded slightly. "I guess there's no point in arguing the matter, then." He acknowledged with a small smile. They'd each be more comfortable, at least, although he still thought it an unnecessary waste of money. He watched the former ranger take out some medical supplies, and let the matter drop. Taking his flute out of his belt, he laid it aside so he could more easily remove his shirt, preparing to hold still while Macardil worked. "I got pretty wet earlier while I was walking in the rain." He explained, figuring he might wonder why the bandage was damp. "I was so upset, I didn't care how wet I was getting, 'til after I got back here and realized I was drenched." He added with a wry laugh. His other things were still hanging up to dry, and hopefully would be dry by morning.

"Anyway... How long until your wedding, if you don't mind me asking?" He asked, preferring to change the topic away from his father. Weddings were much nicer to talk about than a lying, deceitful father who wanted to control his life and keep him under his thumb. At least Dev had never decided to force Trev to get married... he knew some of the really rich folks in Dol Amroth did that to their kids, and it always sounded awful to get stuck into something like that. He hoped for Macardil's sake it was a wedding of his own choice, not by arrangement, but realized he had no idea, and he wasn't sure if he should ask. Trev's own thoughts flitted briefly toward Renia, but quickly brought his focus back to whatever Macardil would reply.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

He raised an eyebrow at the damp shirt and bandage, but the explanation came forth shortly. A smile flashed across his face, but then he gave a serious nod and removed it without further comment before pulling a chair closer to take a seat.

When Trevadir asked about the wedding, Macardil was taking a look at his stitches from the evening before as well as the way the wound was responding. "We haven't really set a date yet," he answered absent-mindedly, his thoughts on the job at hand. "We only agreed to be married a fortnight ago."

"It looks good," he told Trevadir. "No signs of infection." He cleaned it up a little bit and spread one of the salves on it before tying a new bandage around the young man's torso.

"Are you interested in weddings, Trevadir?" Macardil asked then, amusement playing about his expression. "Or is this you making polite small talk?" That he would ask such a question in such a way, was a sign that the former ranger had taking a liking to Trevadir and that he was starting to think of him as less of an acquaintance and more as a friend. He picked up one of the jars. "This can help with the swelling of your eye, but you will have to be very careful not to rub any of it in your eye. If you do, you must immediately rinse it out with plenty of clear water."

@Arnyn

Holding still, Trev nodded slightly as he listened to Macardil's reply. "Congratulations then." He smiled, taking note of the fact he said they'd agreed to be married. That didn't actually tell him much about whether it was them who had agreed together, or if someone else had suggested it and they'd agreed to it. He reminded himself it wasn't really any of his business, but still he couldn't help feeling a bit curious. Perhaps because, as nice as Macardil had been to Trev, he wanted him to be marrying someone because he wanted to, not because someone was saying he should... but he kept his questions to himself, for now at least.

Macardil's question caught him a bit off guard, though. Trev laughed slightly. "Well," He hesitated, slightly unsure how to answer that. "I never really thought much about weddings before. I can't think of anyone I know that's ever gotten married... I mean.. you know, aside from people who were already married when I met them... if that makes sense." He shrugged one shoulder, the one on the side away from where Macardil was checking his ribs. He was fairly sure he'd never been to a wedding, unless he was too young to remember going to it. "I guess I just thought that might be a nicer topic than the previous one." He kept his arm carefully out of the way as the former ranger tied a new bandage on. "Anyway, I hope she makes you happy. You should be happy." He told him, sincerely.

Turning back to Macardil, Trev nodded as the other explained about not getting any in his eye. "Thanks." He would make sure he didn't get too carried away with applying it. "It'll work on my wrist too, I assume?" He held his bruised wrist up with a small smile. It had been rather sore all day, but thankfully it didn't interfere with his playing. "I wonder what all has changed since I've been gone." He mentioned thoughtfully. The topic of weddings had got him thinking, wondering, how many people whom he had grown up with might be married by now? Did anyone he know have kids of their own already? What else had changed, either due to people growing up, or due to the war? "I had a bit of a shock that day at the midsummer thing... I guess it kind of hit me, how much some things might have changed." He mentioned with a slight frown. "One of my friends... well, this guy came up and asked her to dance. And she accepted." He glanced at Macardil. "I know, it doesn't really sound like a big deal, but if you knew her..." He shook his head slightly in disbelief, still finding that whole thing rather baffling. "If it'd been the other girl, I wouldn't have even blinked. But Cali?" He was still incredulous despite having seen it happen with his own eyes.

Trev sat back after putting his shirt back on, growing more thoughtful. "And now, I keep wondering about my little brother." he admitted quietly. "Wondering how much he's changed. He's.." He did a quick count in his head, "fourteen now. Fourteen. He was nine the last time I saw him," Trev sighed, feeling regretful. It struck him suddenly, too, that his brother was old enough to be interested in girls by now. Was he interested in anyone? Perhaps he'd met some girl at school he was sweet on? Or did he still think girls all had cooties? Trev felt sorry that he hadn't been around to see Toby growing up, and to be his big brother. Like he should have been. And now he didn't even know if Toby would forgive him for leaving. Would he be angry, and not want Trev to come back into his life? Despite being thrilled to finally be able to return, Trev was also quite nervous. Not just about having to meet this lieutenant, but because he wasn't sure how to apologize to his family for... everything.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Trevadir was young, and he had been away from almost everyone he knew growing up for the past five years. It made some sense that he would not know anyone who had gotten married. A half-smile mastered Macardil's expression when Trevadir said he thought it would make for nicer subject matter. "Indeed," he agreed. "And thank you." He laughed quietly when the young man said he hoped she made him happy. "You have no idea," he said truthfully. Realizing that did not actually say much, Macardil's smile grew before settling into an expression you did not see often. It spoke of peace. And of belonging. "She does."

When the flutist asked if he could use the salve on his wrist as well, Macardil took a brief look at it. "It should. Worst case scenario, it will do no harm. Best case scenario it will help the bruising fade faster."

Macardil gathered the rest of his supplies together again as the young man took him on a trip through his mind, speaking his thoughts out loud. He packed everything away except for the small jar Trevadir could use on his eye and wrist. He left that on the table. Then he watched the young man, thinking about what he said.
"Five years is a long time, Trevadir," he said gently. "You've grown up. So has your friend."

When Trevadir mentioned his little brother, Macardil put his teeth together. He remembered Trevadir had told him the day before about how their father had left when his little brother had been born. And that Trevadir had left, five years ago, because he'd just wanted to get to know his father. Macardil wondered whether the little brother - who was not so little anymore - would want to know Trevadir anymore. Fourteen was a volatile age of sorts. "Your brother..." Macardil sighed. "His father left him when he was born. And his older brother, you... left him when he was nine. That could have left a mark, too," Macardil said quietly, and the moment the words left his lips, he wished he had said nothing at all.

@Arnyn

Trev was very glad to hear that Macardil had such happiness with his betrothed. That set aside any concerns about people who like to run other's lives for them. Perhaps he'd gotten too accustomed to the way his father was. He tried to put aside those thoughts. It was nice to see the happy expression on the former ranger's face. After the things he'd spoken about last night, about how he got under a spell that forced him to kill his commander, and had spent time in the dungeons, it seemed good that he would have found such happiness now.

Taking the lid off the jar of salve, Trev grew thoughtful as he began to dab it lightly around his eye. He wasn't sure whether he ought to have spoken so openly about his friends and his brother, and his feelings about all that, but he felt a little more at ease around Macardil than when he first met him. Of course, it made sense that they had all grown up, and that it was to be expected that things might have changed. But the point was, it had been a bit jolting to see such a change. Even Iole had been surprised, he recalled.

As Macardil voiced aloud, in his own words, the very thing Trev worried about concerning Toby, he dropped his gaze down to the table, nodding slightly. "I know..." He answered with a soft sigh. A little pang of guilt stabbed at his heart, but he was used to that feeling by now, and tried to push past that. "That's what I'm afraid of." He frowned slightly and carefully rubbed some of the salve onto his wrist. Considering how it had affected Nal that his mother had left him, and how his friend had clearly been hurt by Trev leaving.. there was no telling if Toby would ever forgive him. He'd not only left him, but he'd abandoned him while they were traveling and Toby was asleep, leaving him to explain to their grandparents why Trev wasn't with him when he arrived, and then to later explain to their other grandmother when Trev wasn't with him upon his return. At the time it had seemed like a funny prank, but later, he realized what a terrible thing that had been to do to all involved. But by then, he hadn't been able to apologize for it, because he had been stuck on his father's ship.

Clearing his throat, Trev tried to put off having to think about all of that. "First things first though, I guess." Trev put the lid on once he had finished, and tried to smile. "Getting home to the city is the first step... after that, well, everything else." He knew where they lived, of course, his grandmother and Tobedir, but he wouldn't be asking to come back to live with them. He'd find his own place, somewhere, and gradually work up to reuniting with his family. But before he could go home, he would have to get through this night, and then... he wasn't sure what the plan was exactly. Walking? Trev had no horse, and no interest in having one.. but he remembered that Macardil did, because he had stopped to retrieve it before they left the Siren's Embrace the night before.

He tilted his head then, remembering something else. "Did you ever get your fish, by the way?" For a while, it had slipped his mind, but now remembered that the ex-ranger had come to Harlond, originally, to get some fish. And that he had arrived too late in the day, which was how he ended up meeting Trev in the first place. "With all this rain today, I'd bet the fishermen will have a huge haul in the morning. So that would be a perfect time to get the fish you wanted," He mentioned with a small grin. "If you still want it, that is."

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

He watched quietly as Trevadir dabbed the salve around his eye and rubbed it onto his wrist. Macardil nodded when Trevadir basically said he would have to take his return to Minas Tirith one step at a time. His question about the fish drew a laugh from the former ranger.

"No, I am afraid I never acquired the fish I was looking for," Macardil replied with a smile. "That could be an idea," he agreed carefully to Trevadir's suggestion. "There would be plenty of time. We are only set to meet with Lieutenant Dealedwen in the afternoon." Rise, breakfast, the docks... "But would you want to be seen around the docks?" Macardil gestured at the room. "Honestly, after you told me you were worried who was at your door just now, and considering your conversation with your father... I am loath to leave you here alone. And he, or some of his crew, might lay eyes on you at the docks. Then what happens?"

@Arnyn

The reminder about his father and the crew made Trev's grin fade into a frown. "Oh. Yeah." He had, for a moment, forgotten about them. He thoughtfully glanced toward the window, thinking about how careless he had been earlier. He'd even gone to the docks, before he went to play his flute, so he could leave a message for Renia. He had been cautious, but it still wasn't the smartest move on his part. Today had been full of ups and downs, and having someone to talk to had helped him forget the still-present danger, even if he didn't fully forget it existed. Then again, maybe it didn't. For all he knew, Dev might have gone back to his ship and they might have left already. But he'd had five years to get to know his father, and so he doubted he had just left. It was very doubtful that this was over. If Dev wanted to keep Trev around, he wouldn't like the idea of Trev going home to the city... because then his hold on Trev would be broken for good. And Trev had stupidly told him that was his plan.

Despite that, Dev would surely not risk getting himself arrested at the gates when he tried to enter the city. Right? So if he was going to make any sort of last effort to hang onto his son, he was probably going to try it before Trev got through the gates. He frowned deeper, wondering why Dev even bothered since he obviously didn't care about Trev. Trev wondered at the terrible luck that had caused him to run into Dev five years ago, when he was supposed to be meeting Nal. At times, he wished he could write some sort of letter to himself and send it back in time, to stop his younger self from making the same mistake.. but, of course, that was silly and impossible.

Trev thoughtfully toyed with his flute as he tried to think of what Dev might do. He might not do anything to draw attention, but he could do other things. Cause distractions, get Trev separated, or lure him away.. and on the docks it would be easier to whisk him off on the ship and out of sight. "No, I'd better not go near the docks." He acknowledged the wisdom of that with a soft sigh. Although it was a bit sad to realize that he couldn't go there anymore, to check for a reply from Renia. And frustrating. Would he be forced to hide from that man for the rest of his life? Avoiding certain places, just in case? What if he never got to see her again? That thought flitted through his mind, as if that was really something he should be worried about right now.

He shook his head slightly, focusing back on the present issue. "That doesn't mean you can't get your fish though," Trev mentioned with a shrug. "How long does it take to buy a few fish? I've been hiding out here in Harlond since late autumn.. when I uh.. parted ways.. with them." Of course.. most of that time the pirates had been away at sea, he knew. "I'm sure I'd be alright here, for a short while by myself, although I do appreciate the concern," He smiled. It was nice for someone to actually be concerned about him, not merely pretending to be. "It just seems a shame... you came out here to get fish, didn't get any, came back again today, and will be here tomorrow when there's plenty.. and still might not get to get any."

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

"You've been hiding out in Harlond - but did they know exactly where you were?" Macardil insisted quietly. "As you said, Devedir might have followed you here. After everything you've told me, I would not feel comfortable leaving you here alone. Not under the current circumstances." In fact, he would feel more at ease taking Trevadir with him to the docks than leaving him here. Macardil gave the young flutist a gauging look. "Be that as it may... We can see what we do with all that on the morrow. Agreed?"

"I was thinking of borrowing a horse for you to ride, to journey to the city. I know the owner here, and he should have one that we could use. I can return it to him myself. My own mare could use the exercise," he made light of the matter. "Unfortunately, living in Minas Tirith does not mean she enjoys a daily ride. It will be a treat for her." Besides, it was not like he had any duties or a job he had to take into account. On days like these, he did enjoy the freedom the lack of serious employment provided.

Hmm. Speaking of the owner... perhaps, if Macardil spoke to him tonight, and he was planning on buying some fish from the harbour tomorrow... the owner might pick up some extra for Macardil. "I think I might speak to the owner about that now, while I go procure another room."

Macardil rose to his feet, looking around the room again and then resting his gaze on Trevadir. "You'll be sleeping in the new room," he then announced matter-of-factly. "If Devedir or his people followed you and have been watching..." He gestured at the window, as well as the door. "It will be better."

@Arnyn

Trev hesitated, then shook his head, dropping his gaze slightly. "No.. to be honest I think they were out on a voyage. It's been months since I saw or heard anything from them.. which means they probably weren't anywhere around here." He sighed. He should have known it was too much to hope for, that he would be left in peace. "Unfortunately, the Siren is one of the places they frequent when they come to Harlond." He added ruefully. It had worried him, of course, all this time. Waiting nervously for any of those familiar faces to walk in... he had intended to get out of sight before he was spotted. He had been watching for them for months... up until tonight, when he'd gotten distracted by the friendly gesture of a drink sent from a stranger. Not that he faulted Macardil for that; Trev shouldn't have let his guard down. Even so, perhaps that fight the other night was the best thing that could have happened.. otherwise, he wasn't sure whether he might have come to trust Macardil enough to reveal his situation. And then he wouldn't be helping Trev to get out of it, he considered thoughtfully. He thought of what Ryn would say about that, and inwardly smiled.

It seemed evident that Macardil wasn't terribly worried about the fish. He did, however, seem worried about Trev. As the former ranger stated that he was unwilling to leave him alone, just in case of trouble, Trev smiled slightly. At another time, he might have insisted he would be alright, and that he didn't need a body guard or babysitter, or anything of the sort. He might have pointed out that he could fight well enough to defend himself. But not this time. It was nice to know someone cared enough to insist on it so as to ensure Trev's safety. "Alright, agreed," He answered with a nod, and a little smile. Yes, best to cross that bridge when they got there, he decided. The morning was still a ways off, and who knows what might happen by then.

The plan about a horse surprised him a bit. He slowly nodded, listening to Macardil's plan thoughtfully. He was still trying to decide whether to mention that he didn't know how to ride, when Macardil stood up, declaring he would go talk to the owner now. Before Trev had decided whether to say anything, he was caught off guard by the next statement. He would be moving to the new room? He blinked, then glanced at the window as the former ranger gestured to it, reminded again of his carelessness earlier. "Right..." He answered softly, feeling bad that he had not been thinking about such possibilities, earlier. He made no protest, realizing it was probably a smart idea. "In that case, I'll gather my things while you do that." He decided, getting up to begin that task. It shouldn't take him long since he didn't have much, but yet somehow, he had still managed to get several papers strewn about the area near the window seat, and then of course, his clothes from earlier were still hung up to dry. "But, wait..." Turning back to Macardil, he frowned as something occurred to him. "Won't that put you in danger?"

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Trevadir's initial lack of protest was a surprise. A good one, however, and it was good to see Trevadir saw the wisdom in such a plan. Macardil nodded. He'd been on his way to the door when the young man asked to wait. Macardil looked over his shoulder.

Wouldn't that put him in danger?

Even though his expression did not give it away, Macardil was surprised for a second time in mere moments. Slowly, he turned toward Trevadir. "In a way," he drawled, before his speach regained its usual smooth cadence. "However, I imagine I have more combat experience than you to handle what they would throw at me. Also, they would soon realize I am not their target, which will eliminate any motivation they have to attack me. I imagine their attack, meant for you, would therefore soon turn into a defence-and-run mission if they are faced with me. And, after last evening..." He lifted part of his sleeve to reveal mail and then pointed at the dagger at his belt. His blue eyes were serious. "I came better prepared. If they come here and do not run swiftly, they will regret it."

@Arnyn

Macardil's reply didn't leave Trevadir feeling completely reassured. He frowned slightly, thoughtful as Macardil answered. True, he may have more combat experience. Trev certainly couldn't claim to have done a tremendous amount of fighting, since he had tried to stay out of such things as much as possible. Whereas Macardil was a former ranger, and a lieutenant at that, and had probably been doing that for many years before the stuff happened that led to his arrest. So it was likely that he had been in plenty of battles and fought plenty of enemies in his time. But he didn't know these pirates like Trev did, and in that, Trev felt that maybe he had a small advantage. Yet, he couldn't deny that he was their target. Macardil's reasoning made sense, but he was still a bit worried for his safety. If Dev sent some of his crew to find Trev, and they found a stranger there instead.. what if they killed him? Or tried to, anyway. He hadn't forgotten how well Macardil could fight, but still... if more than two pirates came after Trev, could he still handle them as well? And what if the crew came simply to kill Trev, rather than take him back? They might not get close enough to see that it wasn't Trev...

If, if, if. Trev realized they had no idea whether any of this was even going to happen. For all he knew, Dev might have gone back to his ship to sulk about his loss of Trev, and might not have any idea where Trev was now. He doubted he could hope for such good luck, but he also didn't know anything for certain, except for one thing. He was not going to get trapped into that life again. He was not going to miss this chance to be free of his father. To have his life back. But he didn't want to risk the life of someone who had done so much to help him get that chance.

As Macardil revealed the maille he was wearing, Trev was slightly surprised. He hadn't heard it, or suspected any such thing. That was reassuring, at least. And if it was made by who he hoped it was made by, then it would be very good protection. Yet, Trevadir didn't grow up being close friends with an armorsmith's son and not learn a few things about armor. He knew maille could only protect so much, and thin, pointy weapons could still poke through the small gaps between the links, and while it might not prove fatal, could still cause some damage. He tried to think whether any of the pirates in his father's crew had any such weapons, and thankfully, his dagger was the only one he could think of that might fit that kind of description. The dagger at Macardil's side was also good to see. At least he wasn't unarmed, as he had been last night. Still...

"I don't want you endangered because of me." Trev frowned. "I'm sure you'll insist.. but I don't like it. You probably do have more combat experience, I won't argue with that, but you don't know them.. I do. And they don't fight fair." He hated to have to bring up the fact that he knew then, but it was true. He knew them, had sailed with them, lived in close quarters with them, practiced against them, and seen them at 'work', for years. While he didn't consider any of them friends or comrades, (considering he was often at odds with them all, and the object of their frustration and anger) Trev had plenty of first-hand knowledge about each of them, what weapons they preferred to use, different moves they tended to use in a fight, and so on. "If you insist on switching rooms, just.. be wary, alright?"

He didn't know whether there would even be an attack, and if so, who would be involved, he couldn't very easily warn Macardil what to expect. He sighed, shrugging slightly. "Of course...we don't even know if anything will happen. Maybe they don't even know where I am..." He could hope, anyway.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

"You have a good heart, Trevadir," Macardil said seriously when the flutist said he did not want to endanger him. "But, yes. I am afraid I will insist." Macardil looked at Trevadir curiously when he said the crew did not fight fair. What did he think the Enemy did? Did Trevadir believe that orcs followed some kind of rule book when they attacked? Did he believe the rangers followed a rule book when even they attacked someone who clearly meant to destroy their lands and kill their loved ones? He let the deeper conversation be, however, and merely addressed the surface of the comment.

"My combat experience is not limited to the rigorously outlined duels of nobility, Trevadir," he spoke quietly. "It is to your credit that you would bear me concern, but I have faced worse than a handful of pirates. Yet I will heed your words and not take them lightly, if they appear. For indeed, they might not come here at all. I am simply a man who prepares for the worst." He cracked a quick smile. "And hopes for the best."

He turned back around and headed for the door. "I will return shortly."

**
After his conversation with the innkeeper, Macardil had arranged for an extra room on the opposite side of the hallway, for a catch of fresh fish to take home with him in the morning, and a horse on loan for Trevadir. The animal was on the older side, the innkeep had told him apologetically, but a stretch of the legs might do him some good and surely the horse would serve for a trip to Minas Tirith, which was not all that far away after all.

Macardil kept a careful look out on his way back upstairs, noting any shadows and watching them with care until he was content no one was hiding in any of them. He knocked on the door of the room that had been Trevadir's last night and that would be his own this night. "Trevadir," he now said at once. When the young man let him back in, Macardil saw he had gathered his things already.

"You look ready," he stated, pleased with the organising the young man had done in his absence. "I do not know what we should expect exactly from our - or rather your - conversation with Lieutenant Dealedwen. A good night's rest for you would be wise, in any case. And perhaps you should get to it sooner rather than later. This way, even if your mind does not leave you at peace at first, you will still be able to sleep enough to be well rested."

He produced a key. "Your room is across the hall. Opposite to this one." Only two yards stood between the two doors. "The innkeeper has not noted anyone outside of the usual crowd and a few travellers inside of his establishment. I should mention he clearly has no idea of who might be watching the place from the streets. Not that I would expect any such thing. An innkeeper has too many other concerns to keep his hands and mind busy."

@Arnyn

Trev held back a sigh as he watched Macardil leave the room. It was troubling to worry about the possibility of trouble in the night, but he tried to hold onto the hope that maybe nothing would happen.

Still... all too many times he had heard Ryn insist he would be fine, that nothing was going to happen, that he'd be back from his patrol duties before they knew it. Ryn hadn’t had Macardil's years of experience, but he had been a ranger. And he was gone now. And it had been a harsh awakening for a younger Trevadir, to realize that bad things can happen to people you know, including death. It was a small comfort to hear the former ranger say that he wouldn't take the warning lightly, at least.

Quietly, deep in thought, Trevadir gathered up his papers and other belongings while he waited on the former ranger to return, and soon had everything stowed in the sack once more.


Trev was sitting at the table, slowly twirling his flute between his fingers while he waited, still thoughtful. He had pulled the curtains closed by now, to prevent anyone seeing into the room. It would defeat the purpose of switching rooms, if anyone watching from outside saw that they had done so, after all. At least that made it easier to forget the drizzling rain outside. He jumped up when Macardil knocked, and went to open the door after hearing his voice, smiling slightly at the comment about him being ready. "I didn't have much to pack," He pointed out with a shrug. It was easy to pack up quickly when he only had a few things to begin with.

The reminder about the upcoming conversation with the ranger lieutenant made his nervousness return. He also had no idea what to expect. "Yeah.. probably a good idea," He answered with a small frown, unsure whether he would be able to sleep. There was so much to think about, he didn't know how he'd ever manage to get to sleep. "Do you think I have anything to worry about, with that.. conversation?" He wondered, wishing he knew at least an idea of what to expect.

Taking the key, he turned it over in his hand absently as he listened to Macardil mentioning what he had learned from the innkeeper. It seemed unlikely, then, that any of the pirates had been inside the inn, but that didn't surprise him that much. He guessed they were more likely to have observed from the street, and he had been too caught up with writing a song to pay any attention to anything outside the window.

"Thanks Macardil." Trev said quietly, sincerely. "I hope you have a peaceful night." With any luck there would be no trouble, and they would both be well rested. And then.. tomorrow, they would set out for Minas Tirith. And the thought of that was both exciting and nerve-wracking, to think about that and everything that would change in his life once he got there, as well as all of the potential trouble that could lie ahead for him. If he could just get through this night.

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

"Worry might be too large a word," Macardil responded slowly to Trevadir's question. "I am sure she would not go back on her implicit word. She will not take you into any form of custody - not if your words hold true. Yet I cannot profess to know the full extent of what she may be thinking. I do not know her nearly well enough for that." Macardil left his other thoughts unsaid. It would not help Trevadir to hear any conjecture.

He went to check out the room with Trevadir and bid him goodnight. "Let me take your boots," he half asked, half said. "As part of the ruse, should it prove necessary." Macardil turned to the door, and turned around. "Lock your door, Trevadir. I will be careful." Then he left him there to return to the other room. The former ranger looked around, standing still for a moment. Then he made his preparations. Trev's boots went by the end of the bed, so they would be visible both from the door as well as the window. Macardil locked the door as well. He arranged some spare pillows in the bed, as if it were a curled up person under the sheets instead. He pulled an armchair into the darkest corner of the room which was adjacent to the wall with the door rather than the one with the window. He grabbed an extra blanket and a pillow and dropped it into the chair. Then he doused the candles in the room and got as comfortable as he could in the armchair.

He could easily watch the door from the chair, but anyone entering the room would get a full view of the bed. They would likely only notice the shadow of the chair off to the side in the corner, and once they stepped into the room Macardil would be behind them.
He also had a full view of the window. Anyone entering through there would still notice the bed first, and the corner with his chair was so dark it would be easily dismissed, unless he moved and caused the shadows to shift.

Planning on staying awake for a while longer, Macardil listened for the slightest sound. His eyes travelled through the room, again and again, knowing that fixing them on a certain point would cause sleep to conquer him more quickly.