Sink or Swim - Sea, Sand And Surf (Free RP)

[Rillewen]

For Seafaring Adventures!



Who doesn't love spending the day at the beach? Stretched out on the warm sand enjoying the peaceful lapping of the ocean's waves, the cry of seagulls in the distance. Building sandcastles and playing in the waves, or finding the perfect seashell for your collection. If you're lucky, you might even find a sand dollar, or something even more special and unique.

Or, perhaps you're searching for treasure on a remote island, with nothing but tropical plants, beach, and waves all around. Perhaps you've located some mysterious grotto, where legend says some famous pirate once hid his loot. Or you might just enjoy playing games in the sand, or watching the sunrise/set over the watery horizon.





Don't limit your fun to just the beach though! Perhaps you're enjoying a nice outing on a swift little sailboat. With a lovely breeze filling your sails, you can easily zip along, exploring up and down the coast, from Tolfalas to the Cape of Andrast, or even as far as the Cape of Mardrusk, or even the Pelican Islands, if you dare. Or you might just want to go fishing, or dive for pearls, or whatever strikes your fancy.

Merchant ships travel from one end of the kingdom to the other, transporting goods so that all may have access to things from far away. Nobility and others of higher income can enjoy the luxurious cruise ships, while other, less expensive methods of travel are provided for the commoners of lesser income. Ferryboats travel along the Gondorian coast, making stops at key cities so that passengers may travel from Pelargir to Andrast. There's plenty of adventures awaiting you out at sea, but beware of pirates!




The threat of corsairs and pirates has diminished greatly since the return of the King, but there are still a few out there who mercilessly haunt the seas and cause trouble for those unlucky enough to encounter them. These merciless seafaring outlaws are a continuing threat to any who cross their paths. Maybe you're a Swan Knight who has made it their personal mission to hunt down these fearsome foes, determined to put a stop to their reign of terror over the high seas, once and for all! Or you may want to explore stories from before the war, when the threat of corsairs was at its peak.

Whatever your adventure, feel free to get creative and explore the seas, coasts, and islands as much as you like. Although this thread is in Gondor, feel free to have your adventure take place outside of the territorial waters of Gondor, if you so choose. For reference, here is an expanded map which includes a large portion of the sea and coasts, from one end of the continent to the other. Here is another that shows the entire continent, but with only a few place names listed.

Rules:

• This is a Free RP thread intended for writing out adventures that happen anywhere in the sea, beach, or islands. Feel free to RP your own stories, set in whatever time/year you like, as long as you follow a few simple rules.

• Please state your location at the top of your post, as this thread covers a vast area. Likewise feel free to include the year, if appropriate/flashback/etc

• Mark your post as ‘Private’ if you do not wish any unplanned interactions from other writers to influence your RP.

• Be respectful of others, if you feel like your content might be offensive or a trigger to others, please put a warning at the top.

• Please no overly "mature" content

• Please keep all content within the bounds of the very wide expanse of Tolkien’s fantastic world-building. Ie no drinking cans of Dr Pepper or use of time travel, etc.

• No Godmoding, be respectful and allow others to write their own characters.

• Follow all Plaza rules and guidelines as posted here

Much credit is due to @Ercassie for presenting the idea of this thread, then talking me into posting it.

[Rillewen]

(Open)

Iuldir and Iorissel Dringolben with Saffyre Stone
At their home on the outskirts of Dol Amroth
Seashells at the Seashore
Summer of ‘present year’

“Oooh look how pretty!” Rissy came running up to Iuldir, excitedly holding up a seashell that she’d just scooped up from the sand.

“Yeah, it is,” Iuldir agreed. “Put it in your pile over here,” He suggested, motioning to the collection of shells she had already found today. “Now, why don't you go and see what others you can find?” While it was definitely nothing new to watch his little sister while their mother was at work, the thirteen-year-old was, admittedly, far more interested in the company of the girl sitting beside him.

“Alright!” Rissy happily ran off to where the waves washed up onto the sand, eagerly searching for more shells.

Watching from the dry portion of sand, Iuldir made sure she kept to Mother’s rule about not going in deeper than her knees. So long as Rissy stayed in sight and didn't venture too far into the water without him, he'd much rather send her off to hunt for pretty shells than have her hanging around with him and Saffyre constantly.

“You should make something really awesome with these.” Fyre commented, looking curiously through Rissy’s pile. “Some of these are super pretty, but what do they do? Just sit on a shelf.” She tilted her head, curiously examining a conch and put the opening up to her ear. “Isn’t there anything you could make with them?”

Thoughtful, Iuldir grabbed the latest one and turned it over. “I don’t know. She just likes finding really pretty shells and then giving them to Mother.” He shrugged.

Fyre leaned back, stretching out comfortably as she held the shell up so she could look at it. “Well, then.. hmmm.” She went quiet, thinking. “You could make something for your mother. A gift or something, you know. I bet Rissy would love that. Especially if you let her help.”

Iuldir grinned. “You’re great, Fyre.” He declared.

She laughed. “I know. But what makes you say that?” She turned her head to look over at him, her red hair splayed out on the sand, still damp from swimming earlier.

“You just.. are.” he shrugged. “Thinking of something like that. It’s great. We have to come up with ideas, now. Did you know Mother has a birthday coming up?”

“No, I didn’t.” Fyre set the shell down and folded her arms behind her head, gazing up at the clouds. “She should have something nice, then. She's a nice lady. Unlike some I know...”

“I found another one!” Rissy called, running excitedly back to them. “Look!”

“That’s really pretty, Rissy!” Fyre agreed as she sat up, smiling at the little girl.

“It’s star-shaped!” The seven-year-old was practically bouncing up and down. “I never seen one like this before!”

“Oh, I have,” Iuldir looked at it. It was dried out, hard like a shell, but he knew it had once been a fish of some sort. He debated telling his little sister this, but then thought it might upset her. So, he kept quiet on that. “Rissy, we were just thinking, what if we took all these shells and things, and made something really pretty for Mother for her birthday?” He asked. “Can you keep that secret as well as you did Aunt Cali’s?”

“Ooooh! Yes!” Rissy did jump up and down with excitement, now. “Let’s do that!”

“Got any ideas?” Fyre asked the younger girl, amused by her enthusiasm.

“Ummmm,” Rissy paused, thinking. “A glass!” She decided.

“Glass? What sort of glass?” Iuldir asked, tilting his head at his little sister.

“The kind so you can see how you look.” She answered. “Mommy thinks she isn’t pretty anymore, so I want her to see that she is.”

Fyre grinned to hear this. “Aww. She’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, but we can’t make a mirror out of seashells, Rissy.” Iuldir pointed out.

“Well, we could use them to make a border around one,” Fyre suggested thoughtfully, thinking of one that they could probably use.

“But we don’t even have one,” Iuldir looked at Fyre, wondering what sort of ideas were spinning around in her head.

“Sure we do.” She smiled. “Or, well. We will, once I go and get it.”

“You know the Ogre doesn’t like it when you do things like that,” Iuldir protested, frowning slightly, worrying about Fyre getting yelled at. Fyre’s grandmother was truly an ogre; a grouchy old woman who couldn’t stand children and always yelled her for the least little thing. Sadly, there was little that Iuldir could do about it. At least he’d talked his mother into letting Fyre stay at their house as often as she could. And Rissy loved having a ‘roommate’ when Fyre stayed over, while Fyre was just glad to have someplace to go besides "home". Still, the ogre, as they called her, could be a nightmare when it came to replacing things that Saffyre had given away or lost. Iuldir definitely didn’t want to give her any cause to get in trouble.

“Like she’d even notice.” Fyre rolled her eyes. “She’d only find out if I took it from her own stuff. Which is an interesting idea...” She added with a devious sort of smile.

“No,” Iuldir shook his head, mildly panicked, inwardly, at that suggestion. “If you want to donate a mirror, then donate one that’s yours. I don’t want the Ogre to have any reason to get angry at Mother.”

“Oh. Right.” Fyre nodded as she realized that was likely to turn out badly for Ivornith. And that was the last thing she wanted to do, after the woman had been so kind to her. “Alright. So, there’s one in my chambers which I barely even look at. I’ll run and grab it, and we can decorate it around the edges. And then your mother can see how lovely she really is.” She smiled at Rissy, then looked at Iuldir. “Because she is, you know.”

Iuldir smiled, pleased to hear her agree with his own opinion of his mother. “Be careful, Fyre. Don’t get caught.” He warned her, concerned. If she was caught smuggling her possessions out of the ogre’s property, Fyre might get in trouble. She could get grounded, and then it might be days before she got to leave again. He hoped that wouldn’t happen.

“I won’t,” Fyre rolled her eyes at his concern, but was inwardly pleased that he cared. “I’ll meet you back here with it.” She decided, then ran off along the beach. Since her grandmother’s mansion overlooked the ocean, and had direct access to the beach, the kids almost always traversed along the beach to get from one residence to the other, rather than taking the road. Iuldir and Rissy lived within sight of the beach, only a fair distance further down from the mansion.

“I’ll get more shells!” Rissy decided, excited about this new idea. “Come help me, Iuldir!” She grabbed his hand and led him along excitedly. “It’s gonna be so pretty!” She squealed happily, bouncing along beside her big brother. Together, they wandered up and down the beach in search of more shells that could be used in their project.

---

By the time they had it finished, the oval-shaped mirror was beautifully surrounded by all different types of pretty seashells. Rissy, Iuldir, and Fyre were all quite pleased with their work, and hid the glass up in the loft of the barn, where Mother never went. Ever since meeting, and befriending Iuldir, Fyre sometimes slept there, to have an escape away from her grandmother, so she could keep an eye on it and make sure that it stayed safe enough. Now, they just had a few days to wait until Ivornith's birthday, and in the meanwhile, the three children would be dying with anticipation to see how happy she would be with the gift.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

“So, Pelargir, then.” Dev mentioned, reminding Lord Estennin of the previous arrangements. “You’ll take the ferry from Harlond, and my ship will be waiting at the arranged spot, to receive you, and..the goods you wish to transport.”

Trevadir Thôrmaetha (age 15)
Pelargir Harbor
Roughly a year before the War of the Ring
(following this story)

Boisterous, rowdy laughter echoed across the harbor to the docks. Trev’s eyes flicked to the tavern where most of the crew had gone to enjoy the evening. It was a rough crowd, the type he’d rather avoid. The crew of the Wingôlost had been eagerly looking forward to coming into port for months, so they could get drunk, take some wenches to bed, and gamble away whatever money they’d acquired since the last harbor. Trevadir rolled his eyes at the absurdity of such an existence, then closed them as he blew softly into his flute. The music wasn’t lively or upbeat at all; but rather a slow, soft melody. Mournful, in fact.

With his legs hanging over the end of the pier, the gentle waves lapped at his bare toes. It was nice and cool, refreshing on this warm day. But Trev’s thoughts were not on enjoying himself, nor any joyful activities such as swimming. His fingers moved about on the length of his cherished instrument, covering one hole, then another, then two, and back to one. The melody was merely made up on the spot. He didn’t even care about writing it down this time; he was simply playing from his heart.

Indeed, his heart weight heavily in his chest. It seemed almost torturous for the fifteen-year-old, to be so near to home, and yet… so far away. The knowledge, recently imparted by his father, that should he try to enter the cities, he would be arrested on sight, and sent to the gallows… it was too much to bear.

"By the time we get to the next harbor, your face will be plastered all over, right along with mine probably. They'd arrest you the moment they saw you, Trev. You'd be hanged just for associating with pirates. They love to hang our sort, you know."

Trev still felt the lingering devastation in his heart that had settled there the moment when Dev told him this awful news. It was only made worse after what his father had told him just before they left the ship earlier.

---

Half an hour earlier...


“Remember,” Dev had reminded him before they left the ship, “Don’t let get too close to any guards. If you get caught, you’re on your own.”

“What, you mean you wouldn’t even try to help me?” Trev had asked in dismay, his heart sinking.

Dev sighed, rolling his eyes. “As Captain, I could not risk the whole crew for one foolish boy who let himself get caught,” The man explained bluntly. “Doesn’t matter if you’re my son or not. In fact,” he paused. “if the guards did manage to grab you, they may very well try to use you as some sort of bait in the hopes of luring me in to rescue you. I can’t take a risk like that. So yes. You’re on your own.”

Some father, Trev thought with a scowl. His memory flashed back to the other day in Tolfalas, after meeting with Lord Estennin.

“You’re best off sticking with me, believe me. You’re safe with me, because I’ll protect you. You go off on your own, and you’re.. well, on your own.”

Those words echoed in the teen's mind as he processed the new words Dev had just imparted. “You’ll protect me, huh?” The teenager mumbled under his breath, scowling. He felt confused and hurt, and just wanted to curl up somewhere and hide from all of this nightmare.

Dev paused, looking at his son thoughtfully. “Are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

“I’m sure.” Trev answered sullenly, before parking himself on the end of the pier, refusing to even turn to face his father.

"Alright, suit yourself. But don't wander off," He warned. "We're only waiting until the ferry arrives. If that stargazer hasn't shown up by then, we're leaving without him."

"Yeah, whatever." Trev sulked, glaring down at the water.

As the rest of the men leaped onto the dock, whooping and hollering with enthusiasm for the joys promised them for the evening, Trevadir remained where he was, staring down at the water before him without really seeing it. How did he manage to get a father like this? Gripping the wood on either side of his legs, he closed his eyes and struggled against the childish instinct to cry from the pain tearing his heart to pieces. He was fifteen... too old for that, at least in public.

Still, it wasn’t fair! Nal’s father had returned from the depths of alcoholism just to save his son. He had arisen to the cause when Nal was in danger. Even with half a leg missing, he had rushed to the aid of his captured son, apparently had fought bad guys, rescued him, and brought him home safe again. Why couldn’t Trev’s father be like that? Instead, he got this. A father who insisted on being referred to as Captain, or Dev, rather than ‘Father’ or ‘Dad’. A father who flat out told Trev that he would abandon him to his fate, if he got into trouble. A father who cared more about himself than his son, apparently.

And yet, despite all of that, Trevadir could not leave him. Where would he go? How would he survive? And of course, the greatest pain in all of this was the knowledge that his grandmother must have heard where Trevadir had been these last two weeks or so. There might even be wanted posters out there with his face on it. It would break her heart.. she'd be so ashamed of him. There was no way he could return home. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in her face… though he had done no crimes himself, he was in the company of those who did. What if she declared that he was no longer her grandson? That would more than he could bear. And with the guards on the lookout for him, due to the various things he was now tied to by association… Trev didn’t dare even think about returning home.

So, he sat on the end of the pier with his feet dangling in the water, struggling to hold himself together, until at last, he pulled from his belt the cherished instrument crafted by the friend who had not even lived to hear it put to use. Raising it to his lips, he began to play, a solemn, melancholy tune born of the pain which rent his heart.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha joined by Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor

“Wow… That gives me chills,” A soft voice spoke from a few paces behind him.
Trev jumped, whirling around in alarm as he sought the speaker. Brown eyes met blue, and Trevadir hesitated for a moment. “Uh...Sorry?” A questioning look crossed his face.

The girl smiled faintly, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck under a mane of wavy blond hair. She looked about his age, if not a little younger. “No, don’t be.” She answered, shaking her head. “I only meant… well, it’s… very.. sad-sounding. But beautiful, at the same time. I've never heard that tune before.”

Trev shrugged slightly, looking down at the water again. “Just playing what I feel.” He mumbled, kicking the water's surface lightly.

After a moment’s silence, the girl came and sat next to him, looking at him silently. He could feel her eyes on him, though he didn’t turn to look at her. The silence stretched on, growing slightly awkward. He wasn't really sure what to say, but found it a little uncomfortable that someone he didn't know would come up and sit there next to him like they were old friends.

“Well," She sighed. "I guess you aren’t going to elaborate unless I ask, huh?” She spoke finally.

“On?” He glanced up finally, giving her a puzzled look.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “Why are you sad?”

Trev frowned, turning back to staring at the waves lapping at his feet. “That’s none of your business.” He grumbled, and wished he hadn’t mentioned that, now. Absently turning his flute over in his hands, he tried to ignore her.

They sat silently together for a moment longer, neither looking at each other. The water silently lapped at their feet while the ships on either side of them softly creaked and bobbled in the water. Gulls cried in the distance, as the sun gradually edged toward the horizon, not quite ready for sunset, but getting ready for it. A breeze stirred the girl's hair, carrying a salty scent along with it. Trev felt a little awkward about resuming his playing, but he continued turning his flute over and over in his hands, toying with it absently, feeling slightly nervous for some reason.

“That’s beautiful.” The girl remarked, breaking the silence at last.

Trev didn’t have to ask what she meant; the faintest ghost of a smile flitted across his face, but it passed swiftly. “Thanks.” He let his eyes rest on the flute’s decorative engravings. Another piece of his heart ripped off, then, remembering the friend who had crafted this beautiful instrument. Without further words, he raised it to his lips again, deciding he didn't care what she might think.

“You belong to this ship?” She wondered, with a nod toward the swan ship next to them, which his father had claimed as his own.

Trev inwardly cringed at that wording. Belong. It both stung, and made him uncomfortable. Because, of course, he didn’t belong to anyone; not his father, not the crew… he was no one’s property. But at the same time, he longed to belong to someone in a different way. A loved sort of way. He lowered the flute again, pausing as he took a moment to decide how to reply to that. “I.. live there. I work there. I don’t belong there.” He answered, finally, his voice quiet.

She gave him a questioning look at this reply, but didn’t comment further. “Hmm. It’s a nice ship. But... you aren’t swan knights or anything like that.” She observed thoughtfully. "I watched the others all leave." She added, then tilted her head, a little smile tugging one side of her mouth. “Pirates?” She guessed in a whisper.

Trev cast a worried glance around, fearful that anyone might be near enough to hear that, then frowned at her. “What if we were? Are you going to report us?” He wondered, suddenly suspicious of this girl and why she was here.

She rolled her eyes, laughing lightly. “No, silly. Of course not. I just wondered." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning a little closer. "We are, too.” She smiled, and nodded her chin toward another ship, a few piers down. “Over there."

Trev glanced where she had indicated, noticing that it was a nice-looking ship. Not like the ones he'd heard that Umbarian corsairs sailed. He looked back at the girl curiously. Why was she telling him this?

“Well… since you won’t tell me why you’re so sad,” She changed the subject, “perhaps you’ll tell me why you didn’t go with the rest of your crew to the tavern? Seems like you might’ve cheered up after a few drinks, or whatever it is men do in those sort of places.” She shrugged.

Trev fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable with that sort of topic. “I.. don’t see where that’s any of your business,” He replied with a frown, hesitating before continuing, “But, if you must know.. I’m not interested in drinking. Or in.. the other.. attractions of places like that.” He added, awkwardly, an uncomfortable warmth rising to his face.

She tilted her head, and grinned. “You’re blushing,” She giggled. “Why are you blushing?”

“I am not.” He scowled and turned away. “Leave me alone, alright?"

"Why should I?" She frowned. "So you can mope around being sad all by yourself?"

"Would you just go away already? I don’t even know you.” Trev clenched his hands tighter around his flute, feeling somehow as if she was making fun of him. He didn't need that on top of everything else.

“I’m Renia.” The girl put out a hand with a smile, and did not go away.

Trev took a look down at her hand, then up at her face. He was a little surprised to realize that her smile appeared genuine. Not like someone who was teasing and picking on another. He knew the look of someone being mean, and this was not it. He slowly took the hand, giving it a brief shake as a vague smile finally crept onto his face, despite himself. “Trev.” He replied quietly.



To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Pursued by guards

“Hey, you two,” An unfamiliar, authoritative voice called out.

Trev jumped in alarm, turning to see who had spoken. A guard! His stomach twisted into wild knots as his heart leaped into a sprint. “Uh oh,” He muttered, glancing around for some sort of exit.

“What’s wrong?” Renia wondered in a whisper, looking at Trev curiously, then turned to the guard as she smiled sweetly. “Yes, sir?”

“You'd best come away from there,” He replied. The frown was actually audible in his voice. Unknown to the teenagers, he was concerned about them running into trouble with the rough sort of crowd that tended to frequent the harbor at this time of evening. And, marginally concerned that they might be up to some sort of vandalism.

Feeling his pulse speed up, Trev froze, then tentatively rose to his feet, glancing at Renia nervously as she too stood.

She returned an inquisitive look back at him, but shrugged unconcernedly, and started toward the guard with a smile. "Yes? What's the trouble, sir?"

Trevadir's throat was dry, and felt frozen in place. He couldn't think of anything to do. He was about to be arrested, he just knew it. The guard had seen him with the pirate crew earlier… it was just like Dev said. They were going to be arrested, both of them, and Dev wouldn’t care in the slightest. Trev would have to get himself out of this, because his father sure wasn’t going to lift a finger to help him.

“Don't you know-” The guard didn’t get a chance to finish before Renia, unexpectedly, shoved him.

Startled, Trev watched in astonishment, as the man’s arms flung out, as if in slow motion, windmilling for a second as he teetered on the edge of the dock, eyes widening in alarm. Then he toppled over, with a loud splash as he hit the water, in full armor.

“Come on!” Renia grabbed Trev by the hand and tugged, laughing lightly. Waiting for just a moment to see that the guard’s head returned to the surface, and that he grabbed onto something so that he wouldn't drown, Trev turned and ran along with Renia, feeling panic surging up inside him. Wherever they were going, he hoped it was far from where there were guards.

Behind them, he could hear the guard yelling out to his fellows to come to his aid, and to stop those kids. Trev put on a burst of speed, anxious to ensure that they put plenty of distance between themselves and those guards.

“Here!” Renia tugged his arm as she veered to the right. Trev instinctively followed, feeling quite panicked by the way this was unfolding.

Another guard emerged around a corner, on his way to see what the ruckus was about. “Stop!” He ordered, reaching out to grab the fleeing teenagers, but Renia ducked under his reaching arm and kept going. Trev was a bit further on the left, and was able to swerve around, and kept running.

Letting Renia take the lead here, Trev followed, clutching her hand tightly as he tried not to get separated from her, as more guards joined in the pursuit, assuming the two were running to avoid arrest.

Ahead, a large fenced-in yard full of big crates and barrels loomed, promising quite a maze with great potential for losing pursuers. Renia and Trev raced in that direction, eager to make use of that potential. Darting behind a row of barrels, they ran for a short ways before turning down another row. The guards were no longer on their heels. Renia tugged Trev toward a gap between two large crates, and they quickly squeezed through. Once on the other side, they ducked down behind the crates, catching their breath. They looked at each other, wide-eyed with flushed faces, listening for the sound of pursuit.

Only a few seconds after they'd gotten out of sight, the sound of running boots entered the row on the other side of their hiding spot, then stopped.
"Where'd they go?" One guard asked.
"I don’t know, they were just here a moment ago. I saw them go down this way, and that's a dead end there, see?" Another answered.
"Look all around this area. Close off all the exits to this yard. I don’t know what made them run, but they’re probably up to no good. I want to put a stop to whatever trouble they had in mind…”

Hearing a sample of their discussion, Trev’s fears were confirmed; they did intend to arrest them. Swallowing, he looked around, then motioned to Renia and pointed to a building not far away. If they could sneak around behind it, they might be able to put more distance between themselves and the guards, and perhaps they could slip out before the guards closed the gates. Of course, he thought they might be able to climb the fence if it came down to it, but he'd rather not risk being spotted.

She nodded, and set off silently ahead of him. Trev hastily caught up, thinking swiftly to try and remember anything Ryn might have once told him from his ranger training, to do with stealth and such. He pulled her over to duck down behind some barrels, waited a moment, then darted across to a stack of small crates. Moving from one spot to the next, the pair made their way cautiously toward the building. There were some crates stacked up next to the wall, and he quickly hurried to crouched behind them. Moments later, a couple of guards came around the corner, searching the area. Looking behind barrels and crates, Trev saw with alarm. They had to find another hiding place!

Renia tugged on Trev’s elbow, nodding her head toward a door set in the wall a little ways further from where they were hiding. It wasn't easily noticeable, as it was currently in shadows.

Glancing where she had indicated, Trev shook his head slightly. That didn’t seem like a good idea, he thought. Besides, the door might be locked. And they'd have to step out in the open for a moment just to get to the door, and he was hesitant about that.

But she nodded, and darted across the clear space, to press herself flat against the shadowed part of the wall. Trev watched with alarm, holding his breath as he glanced around. The guards hadn't seen her. He watched them move to check behind the place where he and Renia had last hidden, then he quickly ran across to join her, following her example.

Once he was in the shadows, he relaxed marginally, but still felt tense. He felt trapped, and was fearful of what would happen if they got caught now. Beside him, Renia squeezed his hand briefly, then tried the door. Was it locked? He glanced toward the guards, anxious. There weren't many other places to hide from here, and the guards were checking everything thoroughly. He wasn't sure what to do, and his fear was growing the closer and closer the guards came. They were checking the spot that he and Renia had just come from, now.

Glancing back at her worriedly, Trev squinted in the gathering darkness to see what she was doing. At that moment, she opened the door, much to his surprise. Trev blinked, seeing her tuck something away in her sleeve before smiling at him. Waving for him to follow her, she then slipped inside.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Exploring a Warehouse, after hours

Trev hesitated, glancing around. The guard was heading his way, and while he was hidden in the shadows for the moment, he was sure that wouldn't last long once the guard got closer. Heart racing, he eased the door open carefully, then quickly slipped in after Renia. As soon as he was inside, he gently shut the door behind him, careful not to make any noise.

It was dark inside, and he had to take a moment to let his eyes adjust. In the following silence, he could almost swear his heartbeat was loud enough for the guards outside to hear and find them. He took a slow breath, calming himself slightly. “Where are we?” He whispered, finding Renia nearby, though the light was dim in here.

“I’m not sure,” She whispered back. “Maybe a warehouse or something?”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here,” He mentioned, looking around hesitantly. They had come in by a back door of some sort, and he felt as if they might be trespassing.

“So?” She grinned at him. “Better than being out there, with the guards. Isn’t it?”

Trev paused, then gave a shrug, followed by a small smile. “You’ve got a good point there,” He admitted, though he still felt a bit uneasy about being here. He looked around, seeing shelves stacked high with crates, boxes, and barrels. He curiously lifted the lid on one of the crates, and saw that it was filled with various kinds of cloth, rolled neatly on bolts.

Curious, he moved further down the row, trying to check in each. Most had the lids secured down with nails, but after a while, he found a smaller one that had been pried open, and found that it was filled with ingots of iron. The one next to it contained steel. He knew how to recognize them from years spent Various kinds of merchandise seemed to be stored here, he realized. Probably waiting to be shipped off to other places, like Minas Tirith, and Dol Amroth, maybe Linhir... Or perhaps further? He wasn't sure how all this stuff worked, as he'd never really given much thought to merchants and where they got their goods.

Continuing forward, Trev froze as he heard footsteps not far away. He ducked quickly around behind a tall stack of crates, pulling Renia down with him. They waited, holding their breaths anxiously until the sound of footsteps had moved past. Most likely, an employee of the warehouse, but it could also be a guard, Trev thought nervously.

With his hand holding Renia's, Trev stopped her from hurrying onward any further as soon as the person seemed to be gone. She paused and glanced back at him questioningly.

“What’ll happen if they catch us in here?” He whispered, nervous.

“I dunno,” She whispered back. “Let’s not find out… we just won’t get caught. Sound like a plan?” She grinned.

Trev looked at her for a second, wondering if she was serious, then gave a soft little laugh. It was hard not to laugh more than that, actually… because saying that, she suddenly reminded him a little bit of Ryn. In a best way possible. He smiled, nodding. “An excellent plan.” He agreed.

On they explored, darting behind crates, barrels, and boxes at the slightest flicker of movement, and the faintest little noise. The teens delved deeper and deeper into the warehouse, and, watching from various hiding places, observed that there were guards posted at various locations. Not city guards, but those hired by the warehouse people just for guarding this place, apparently. They patrolled the aisles occasionally, probably checking for intruders, and making sure the place was secure, but for the most part, they seemed to be posted in specific spots. That made it easier to sneak around them, and Renia seemed undaunted by the challenge. Though nervous about getting caught, Trev kept close to her, determined that they should not get separated.

After a while they ducked through a doorway into another section of the large warehouse, trying to avoid one of the patrolling security guards. With his heart pounding, Trev pressed himself against the doorway, waiting for a long moment as he listened for the footsteps to fade down the hallway. He was focused so intently on listening for the guard, he didn't notice Renia leaving his side to wander further into the room.

After waiting a long moment, he cautiously peeked around the doorframe to see if it was clear for them to come out again. The hallway seemed clear, and he relaxed slightly.

“Look, Trev,” Renia whispered, giggling softly. He turned, and by the light of a dim wall lamp, saw that she had opened up some trunks that were in the room, and had draped herself in a fancy velvet cloak with fur trim around the collar. Trev smiled faintly, amused as he watched her sway this way and that as if modeling the fancy garment. She grinned as she strode around the room with an exaggerated swaggering sort of manner, as if mimicking the posh nobility. Whirling in a circle, the cloak swirled dramatically around her body, and she grinned. "Very dramatic, don't you think?"

“It’s a little long on you,” He commented with a shrug, holding back laughter, trying to remember to be quiet.

Renia laughed and tossed the cloak off to the side. “Yeah, you're right. I think this would look good on you, though.” She decided, as she drew out a fancy embroidered doublet of blue silk and tossed it to him. Grinning mischievously, she reached up, tugging a hat onto his head.

“What’s that?” he pulled it off, taking a look at the fancy top hat, and rolled his eyes as he tossed it back into the trunk. “What are we doing, playing dress up?” He asked with a little laugh, rolling his eyes at the idea. They were supposed to be finding a way out of here, not playing around being silly. They might get caught...

“Why not?” Renia smiled at him. “There’s no one around to say we can’t." She shrugged. "These clothes are just going off to some fancy shop we can’t afford to buy from, so why not have a little fun before they put a ridiculous price tag on them that only nobles can afford?”

Trev hesitated briefly, then shrugged as he decided to try and relax a little. With a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes, he ventured over to poke around in the trunk she had found the clothes in, rummaging around until he found a fancy gown, like some lady of nobility might wear to a ball or other extravagant event. It was a major contrast to the trousers and boyish tunic she was wearing, and he was curious to see how she’d look in something like that. Smirking teasingly, he pushed the fancy dress at her. “If we’re going to dress up, then let’s do it properly, huh?”


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Exploring a Warehouse, after hours

A few minutes later, the teens were having quite a time, dressed in the most lavish clothing they could find, over their regular clothes. Trevadir was laughing as Renia placed a fancy, feather-trimmed tri-corner hat on his head, complete with long plummage that soared up into the air, then swooped in a downward arch behind it. The color matched that of the fancy blue and gold suit he had on over his regular clothes. The doublet and matching waistcoat were a little big on him, and the sleeves hung down over his hands, but he ignored that. Underneath the doublet, he had put on an unbelievably white shirt with ruffles of dainty lace that hung in layers from the throat. The same lace hung from ends of the sleeves, peeking out from the blue silk of the waistcoat’s sleeves. The engraved gold buttons must have cost more than his grandmother made in ten years alone, he couldn’t help thinking with astonishment. And the lace, that must cost at least a month’s wages…

“Well! What do you think?” Renia asked, grinning as she gave a twirl. The pink taffeta dress rustled with every move she made, and the girlish color didn’t quite look right on her. Cute little bows adorned the sleeves, and the front panel was covered in a very intricate embroidery of gold and pink flowers. The scooping neckline was edged with a narrow strip of lace, as were the sleeve edges. The dress dragged the ground, and the shoulders kept trying to slip off of her shoulders. Renia picked up a lacy pink parasol and gave it a twirl, trying to look mock-haughty and dignified, but had trouble keeping a straight face.

Trev looked up at her, realizing that she was very pretty. Not that he hadn’t noticed that before, exactly, but he hadn’t taken the time to properly look at her and see that yes, she was definitely a pretty girl. As this revelation hit him, he furrowed his brow and pretended to be scrutinizing her, glad it was too dark to seem in case he was blushing. He felt like he might be, but cleared his throat before replying. "Hmm," He went to the chest again, and came back with a fancy, lacy hat that was clearly made to match the dress. Fixing that onto her head, he grinned. “There, now it’s complete.” He stepped back and nodded. Looking down at himself, then at her, he almost wished they had a mirror around. “I bet we look ridiculous.” He mentioned, feeling a little bit silly and awkward in this extravagant stuff.

Renia began laughing. “Of course, we look ridiculous!” She snorted in laughter, finding the whole thing just too much fun to not laugh.

Trev slowly grinned, then joined in, forgetting that they were supposed to be being quiet and hiding. He laughed so hard, he was soon doubled over slightly, imagining how they must look.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” A man demanded suddenly, bringing their fun to an abrupt halt as he appeared in the doorway.

Trev whirled swiftly, heart jumping to his throat as he realized they’d been caught, and suddenly remembered they weren't supposed to be here.

Across from him, Renia gasped as she spun to face the guard as well, blue eyes going wide in alarm. “Uh.. we.. we were just…”

“Who are you kids? What are you doing in here?” The man scowled, marching into the room angrily while they both stood there, caught by surprise. “This place is closed, and you'd have no business being here even if it wasn't!” He grabbed Renia’s arm roughly. “I’ll have you both arrested for trespassing!”

“Ow!” She gasped, cringing from his grip on her arm. “We weren’t hurting anything! We just-”

“I don’t want to hear it! Get out of those things before you ruin them!”

“Let go of her!” Trevadir yelled angrily. On the first, he had been too startled by the man's sudden arrival to move, but also as soon as it appeared that was hurting Renia, Trev's temper was awakened. He rushed forward to help her, without any clear plan of what he was going to do.

The nightwatchman gave Renia a hard shove to the side, sending her against the wall, and turned back toward Trev to deal with him.

Evading the man’s attempt to grab his arm by dodging to one side, Trev then ducked under his second attempt, and found himself near his new friend. He snatched the parasol from her without a word, though he fumbled with the sleeves on the shirt for a second before getting them pushed up out of his way. When their assailant came at him again, Trev jabbed the tip of the parasol hard toward the man’s stomach, just to ward him off.

The guard leaped back, avoiding the ‘stab’, and made a grab for the parasol, further annoyed to be attacked by some teenager. "INTRUDERS!" The man called through the doorway, trying to call attention from the other nightwatchmen posted throughout the warehouse.

“Renia, run!” Trev moved aside from where he stood between her and the doorway, but then as soon as she'd gone past him, he immediately blocked the doorway as the man made a lunge to try and stop her.

“Give me that!” He snarled. "You're in a lot of trouble, boy, you'd better give up now, before you get in any deeper."

Trev ignored him, glaring as he swung the parasol like it was a sword, hoping to keep the man from getting closer.

“Trev, come on!” Renia urged, stopping just outside the door to for him to join her.

Seeing the man lunging toward them again, Trev jabbed the parasol toward him again, with mingled feelings of gratitude that Renia hadn't abandoned him, but also protectiveness, worried that she might now be in danger because she waited for him instead of running.

While he was a little distracted worrying about Renia, the man caught the makeshift weapon this time, yanked it away from him, and swung back at him.

Trev, reacting instinctively, responded by stepping back, clear of the swing, then stepped in again swiftly as the man swung back the other way, in a backhand attack. He caught the parasol with his right hand, and rapidly slid his other, free hand around the man's arm, to hook around and trap his wrist. Before the guard knew what was happening, Trev had twisted himself swiftly in such a way that it yanked the parasol back out of his grip and into Trev's. Holding the sun-shading device with a hand on each side, Trev placed it like a bar across the man’s chest and shoved as hard as he could. As the man stumbled backward, toppling to the floor in surprise, Trev turned and grabbed Renia’s hand, running along with her as fast as they could away from the angry warehouse guard.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Exploring a Warehouse, after hours

Renia and Trev raced along the maze of the warehouse, down long aisles lined with barrels, crates, and boxes. Renia kept up with him pretty well, holding up the skirt of the dress. Trev struggled not to trip on the overlong trouser legs that kept trying to slip over his feet.

The guard chased after them, calling out for backup. Soon, a few other guards gathered behind them, which only made Trev and Renia push themselves to run faster. Then, the end of the aisle ahead of them was suddenly blocked by another two guards. Trev and Renia skidded to a stop and looked at each other. What now? Trev's heart pounded, remembering Dev's words that he wouldn't even try to help him if he got arrested. And he hadn't even done anything! He glanced around desperately. They were trapped... there were too many now for him to try to fight, and Trev was growing nervous, watching the men move toward them on either end of the corridor.

“This way,” Renia hissed, tugging his hand toward the wall making up the aisle.
There were crates all along the length of the aisle on either side of them, filling the shelves. Trev looked at this, then glanced at Renia in bafflement, unsure what her plan was. But, watching her climb onto the lowest crates closest to the floor, he realized her plan. There was just enough of a gap between the top of the crates on the floor, and the underside of the shelf holding more crates and boxes, that the two of them could fit through and climb over to the next aisle over. But they'd have to hurry. As they hurried toward this gap, the guards realized what they were doing, and swiftly moved in to try and stop them.

"Hurry!" Trev urged, having to wait for Renia to get through before he could make use of the 'tunnel'. She moved a little awkwardly because of the long dress that kept getting in her way, but once Trev saw that she would make it, he climbed in after her, moving as swiftly as he could across the top of the crates. On the other side, Renia hopped down ahead of him, but stumbled on the dress. Trev swung down from the top of the crate, then helped her back up. Together they set off running again, until Trev spotted another place ahead, on the far side of the new row of shelves, where they could take a shortcut.

While the nightwatchmen were hurrying around to each end of the previous aisle so they could try and cut off the intruders, Trev swiftly scaled a cluster of barrels that were bound together, stacked up several high. He realized as he climbed that they seemed to be full of beer or ale or something. So, very heavy. Hopefully, secure. He paused halfway up, helping Renia to join him. At the top of the stack, he pulled himself up so that he crouched on the top of the barrels, then helped Renia join him. From up here, he could look down and see the layout of the warehouse. It was a very large building, filled with aisle after aisle of wares. But he had an idea where the guards were, and therefore, how to avoid them.

"Come on," He whispered, motioning with his head. If they climbed up onto the crates next to the barrels, they could travel along the top of the aisle, and hopefully the guards wouldn't think to look upward. Feeling a bit like a cat, Trev grinned as he picked a direction at random. He led the way as he and Renia made their way cautiously along the tops of barrels, crates, boxes, and whatever they could find to walk on.

They'd hardly gone a couple of yards when he heard the guards calling to one another, searching for them. He motioned swiftly to her, and they both laid down flat on top of a large wooden box. Trev watched a watchman run into the aisle, looking up and down both ways, then shook his head and moved to check the next one, on the other side. Trev smiled faintly to himself as he watched the men search in vain for the fugitives.

“Did you see where they went?” One of the men asked another, stopping just below their hiding spot.
“I think they went over here,” One man called from another aisle over.
“I lost sight of them, but I’m sure they came this way.”
“What were they doing, stealing?" Another asked.
"Yeah," The one who had attacked them huffed. "I caught them trying to take some of the fancy clothes that's meant to be going to Dol Amroth in tomorrow's shipment. I sent Bastion to tell the city guards that we’ve got a couple of trespassers in here stealing stuff."

Trev cringed to hear that, but he couldn't really protest without giving away their location. Besides, they wouldn't believe him anyway. The voices grew a bit more distant as the guards continued to search. Much to Trev's relief, they didn't seem to think of looking up on top of the shelves and things.

“Come on, let's get going." Renia whispered, once the men had gone on their way. "I think we’ve lost them,” She grinned, standing up.

"Careful," He whispered, standing cautiously, thinking about how high up they were. A fall from here could easily cause an injury. He looked around, then continued in the direction they had been going, searching for a way out. Trevadir had gotten so turned around in this place, he couldn’t figure out which way to go. It was dimly lit, so he couldn't see any exits. It had clearly been a bad idea to come in here. The words about them stealing stuff, and reporting them to the guards, still rang in his ears. He was only glad they didn't know his or Renia's names, to add to the wanted posters.

"We're going to have to come down eventually," He whispered to her.

"Yeah, when we get to the end of this row." She agreed, pointing. Not far ahead, they would reach the end, and would have nowhere else to go but down. In the distance, he could hear the men calling out to each other, trying to figure out where the fugitives had gone.

Once they'd reached the end of the row, Trev took a minute to look around, trying to get his bearings. "There's an opening over there," He mentioned. "Could be a way out." He said in relief, pointing.

"We have to get down, first." Renia pointed out, and swung her legs over the side of the boxes they were standing on.

"Careful," He warned, nervous.

"Relax, I'm good at climbing." She rolled her eyes slightly, and proceeded to prove it by climbing down the corner of the shelf on which the crates and boxes were held. Trev held his breath as he watched, until she was safely on the ground.

"Your turn," She whispered up at him.

Trev nodded, and copied her. He, too, was good at climbing, thanks to fifteen years of shenanigans and adventures with his friends, both in the city and in the Pelennor, climbing trees, climbing in and out of his and Nal's windows, and so forth.

As soon as he was on the ground again, he let Renia take the lead as she set off toward the opening, though it was too dark ahead to tell much about it yet. He glanced around, a little nervous as he feared they might run into some of those men again. “We should’ve taken this stuff off,” He mentioned, a little awkward as he looked down at the ridiculously fancy clothing.

“Well, it’s a little late now,” Renia shrugged. "Besides, that creep didn't give us a chance."

They kept going, until, after passing through a wide archway, they stopped in surprise at the view that met their eyes.

“Ohh!” Renia’s breathless exclamation echoed exactly what Trev was thinking. Before them, at the bottom of a broad pathway leading down to a dock, the warehouse opened out into a sheltered bay, which opened out into the sea. The sun had set while they were roaming inside the warehouse, but he could see the dark waters reflecting stars and a bright moon, beyond the silhouettes of a couple of ships tied to the pier. Trev smiled as he pointed down to the open bay, large enough for a ship to sail directly out into the ocean after being laden with goods. “Look, we could get out through there,” He whispered, excited a way out at last.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Exploring a Warehouse, after hours

"How do we get down there?" Renia whispered. She pointed to some guards patrolling, not just on the docks, but on the ships as well. "Think they'll just wave goodbye and let us go?"

Trev frowned, thinking about that problem. He supposed that the men patrolling on the docks were employed by the warehouse people, but the ones on the ships were probably part of those ship's crews. At least, he figured his father would post some of his own men to watch his ship, if he were docked in a place like this, awaiting supplies. Whatever the case, it wasn't as if they could just stroll down the main path and swim to shore.

As they stood there debating, he felt Renia tap his arm, and when he looked, he saw that she had already set off toward a room built off to the side.

"Renia," he whispered, hastening to catch up. "Where're you going?" He asked, nervously watching as Renia checked the door, then slipped inside.

Trev glanced around again, checking that no one had seen them, then followed her inside. There was a lantern burning on the desk, the wick turned down low so that the light was dim. “What are you doing?” He wondered. “We need to get out of here, not go in deeper!”

“Well, if they’re all searching for us out there with all the storage stuff, so it seems like some office room is the most sensible place to hide, right? They wouldn’t think to look for us here.” She mentioned. "I think this is the boss' office, too." She added thoughtfully. "Look at this chair." She giggled softly as she plopped into the cushioned chair at the big desk. "Definitely the boss'."

Trev bit his lip, thinking about her reasoning. He wasn't completely sold on it, but sighed softly as he gave in. "We shouldn't stay long. We need to come up with a plan to get down to the water, it's our best way out of here."

"Yeah, I know. But with all those guards crawling around down there by the docks, we need to come up with a plan." She propped her elbows on the smooth, polished desktop and rested her chin in her palms, cupping each side of her face as a thoughtful look came over her face. "Hmm.. a plan. I'm not really very good at those..."

Trev ventured over to a large, pane-less window in one side of the office, overlooking the loading docks. He agreed that this must be the manager's office, so he could keep an eye on his employees and everything. He watched the patrolling watchmen thoughtfully. At least it appeared as if the guys over here hadn't been informed yet about the 'intruders'. They appeared to be going about their patrols calmly. That was in their favor, probably. He closed his eyes briefly, thinking hard about anything that he might have learned in all the years spent with Ryn and Nal. Anything that might help here.

“Trev,” Renia whispered. “Look at this!”

“I’m trying to think of a plan,” He replied, ignoring her for now.

Renia sighed impatiently. “Trev, seriously. Come here, you gotta see this!”

He turned, wondering what was so important that she didn’t care about getting out of here yet. She was studying a map, it looked like. He ventured over, curious. “What is it?” He wondered, tilting his head down at the map.

“I’m not sure, but it looks… interesting.” She pointed to some places that were marked on it, looking intrigued.

“It’s not whole.” Trevadir mentioned curiously, running a finger along the jagged, torn edge. “I wonder where the other half is…”

Renia shrugged, then pulled up the shoulder on her dress, running a finger over one of the x marks. “What if it's a treasure map?” She glanced up eagerly at the idea, blues eyes sparkling with excitement.

Trev laughed softly, but shook his head. “It’s a warehouse, remember? So, it’s probably just something to do with the places they get their wares." He pointed out. "That’s what I’d guess, anyway.” He pointed to one of the marks. "I bet they get silk from here, and special spices from over here, stuff like that. Boring stuff, probably." He shrugged.

"Boring," Renia stuck out her tongue at him. "I'd rather think of it as a treasure map."

Trev laughed. "Suit yourself then." He grinned, then went back to studying the docks from the window, hoping to spot a route they could take to get to the water. He felt that if they could just get to the water, they'd be able to get out, although he wasn't really sure what might be out there. Was there a beach? Or was it only ocean? Would they be able to get to land easily?

Just then, he heard someone whistling as they headed along the path toward the office. Uh oh! He whirled around, alarmed. “Renia!” He hissed. “Someone’s coming, we’d better hide!” He looked around frantically, not sure where they could do that, since there wasn't really anywhere inside the office to offer a good hiding place.

Renia jolted up from the desk, and started to get down to the floor, intending to go under the desk.

“No, they’ll see you there!” Trev pointed out, whispering urgently. Another idea came to mind, and he motioned for her to come over to the window, which was actually just an open frame. As he helped Renia climb through the opening, he vaguely imagined the warehouse manager yelling through the open 'window' down at the dock workers, and wondered if that was why there were no panes.

As soon as Renia was through, Trev swung himself through as fast as he could, then pressed his back against the wall to the right of the window opening. Heart racing, he glanced over at where Renia was hiding against the wall on the left, wondering whether they would be discovered.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Exploring a Warehouse, after hours

Holding his breath while he listened, Trev heard the guy stop whistling just before he entered the office. After a moment, he heard sounds as if the man was looking through papers. Cautiously, he ventured a peek around the edge of the window frame, and frowned in curiosity. The man was searching through papers on the desk, then went through some nearby cabinet drawers, looking through those. When he found what appeared to be a ledger stashed in the lap drawer of the desk, he flipped to the latest page and ran a finger down the list until he found what he was looking for. Then, taking up the quill on the desk, he pulled a small notebook out of his vest pocket and began jotting down notes.

Interesting... Trev pulled his head back out of view, and tried to figure out what he'd just seen. Noticing Renia waving at him, however, Trev looked over at her. She was motioning for him to join her. Dropping down to the ground, he crawled as low as he could get, rather than crossing in front of the window where the man inside might be able to see him. He came up on the other side, beside Renia. "What?" he mouthed.

"Diversion?" She whispered the singular word in his ear. Then, she pointed to where a wagon was parked nearby, with blocks stopping the wheels from moving. Trev assumed that, during the daytime when the workers were here, they would use it to transport boxes and things from the warehouse, down to the loading bay. It was loaded up with crates, and he slowly smiled, nodding. She'd come up with a plan, after all!

Silently, the teens crept toward the wagon, careful to keep in the shadows. Once they reached the wagon, Trev circled it, checking that there wasn't a risk of damaging any goods if they sent it rolling down the slope toward the docks. All the crates in the back were empty as far as he could tell. He pulled the blocks from under the wheels, while Renia held it in place. Together, they carefully guided the wagon forward, and positioned it so that it would start rolling down toward the nearest ship. Giving it a big push, the teens grinned at each other as they watched it set off rolling down the sloping path.

The guards patrolling the docks quickly noticed the rolling wagon, and began yelling to warn their fellows about it. Trev and Renia, meanwhile, withdrew into the shadows to watch as the men rushed to find a way to stop the wagon before it careened off into the water or something. Once he'd seen several of them leave their posts, Trev motioned to Renia. The way was clear as far as the end of the dock. If they hurried, they might be able to make it to the water while the guards were distracted. From here, he could see a couple of small rowboats tied to the dock, probably used for inspecting the ship's hulls for damage or something of the sort. They could borrow one, just to get out of this place, and hopefully there'd be a beach or something just outside where they could leave it, and get away.

They hurried down the path, pausing here and there to duck behind whatever sort of cover they could find, which was sparse. Thankfully, the watchmen were busy with the wagon which had crashed into one of the ramps leading onto the nearest ship. While the men gathered around the crashed wagon, Trev and Renia made their way along the broad path as swiftly, and stealthily, as they could manage. He could hear the men discussing what could have happened, wondering who'd left it there at the top of the slope, and trying to decide how to clean up all the crates and debris.

Trying to move quietly, Trev and Renia tried their best to keep down low and not draw attention to themselves. Renia grabbed Trev’s hand and pulled him toward the closest of the small boats. He glanced back toward the group of men, fearing they might be too open, but so far, they were still busy. Renia climbed in before Trev had a chance to hold the boat steady for her, so he took a moment to untie the boat from the dog, then stepped in after her while she grabbed an oar. Using it, she pushed hard against the dock, then handed the other one at Trev. He paused, hesitant to tell her that he was not very good at rowing a boat yet.

Not wanting to admit that was terrible at rowing, he put the oar in the water and dragged it slowly through the water. It was difficult to move the oar in sync with her, and still keep it from making any noise. He was trying not to splash, which meant he had to move slowly. His father had often grumbled at him for being a lousy rower, but he was trying his best. Renia seemed to have no trouble, however. Trev frowned and tried to speed up, but that just meant the oar turned sideways and did no good. He held back a sigh of frustration, and kept at it. Just then, one of the sentries shouted, and Trev looked up in alarm. Seeing the man waving to get the other guards' attention, he called out to alert the others about the boat being 'stolen', although Trev would have said 'borrowed'. Still, there was no time to argue the point... it was time to flee again!


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor
Exploring a Warehouse, after hours

“Here, give me that!” Renia grabbed the oar from Trev and positioned herself in the middle, hooked the oars into slots on each side, then began using both at the same time. The boat was propelling rapidly through the water, now. They would make it out before the guards could catch up to them, he thought with relief. Shifting back to give her room to row, Trev looked back, his heart sank. A couple of the watchmen had leaped into a boat of their own and were already in pursuit.

“Renia, look!” Trev gripped the sides of the boat, anxiety clawing at his insides. What if they got caught? He remembered his father’s words, that he wouldn’t do anything to help Trev if he got arrested. He couldn’t let that happen, yet it seemed he couldn't turn around without having a close call with a guard. At least these weren't the city guards, but they would probably turn them over to them, so it was the same difference.

Renia looked past him, and nodded. “Hang on, we’ll make it,” She promised, and put forth more effort into rowing. They passed the ship, heading for the wide opening that led out into the open sea. “See the rocks.. over there?” She nodded her head toward one side, where a heap of boulders were, just before the bay opened into a wide expanse of water. She was getting a little out of breath from rowing so hard, but was clearly more familiar with doing this than Trev was.

“Yeah, I see… what about them?” He glanced at her, then at the opening. The walls ended there, and seemed to be built right up against the rocks and boulders, as if built just for the purpose of holding them back.

“When we get close enough, we’ll ditch the boat and climb up those to the other side. I think it oughta lead onto the shore, like a shortcut to land, I hope.” Renia explained.

“Right, well, let's hope there'll be places to hide,” He nodded, but still felt anxious. This whole adventure was making him more and more nervous that they would both end up arrested.

The guard’s boat was quickly catching up. As the got close enough to the rocks, Trev carefully shifted into a crouch in the boat, trying to balance. Unbidden, a memory flashed through his mind... of going fishing with his father when he was five years old. He'd stood up, despite being told not to, and had ended up falling in. Trying to be mindful of his balance this time, Trev reached out and grabbed the nearest rock, trying to steady the boat so Renia could get out without the boat wobbling too much. As quick as they could manage, the pair scrambled out of their little rowboat and onto the rocks, then clambered up the boulders hastily.

Renia was right; on the other side, a rocky shore stretched ahead of them, and further ahead, ended in greenery. A forest, from the looks of it, and that gave Trev hope. They'd traveled a ways from the docks where their respective ships were, but if he could get his bearings, Trev thought he might be able to find the way back to the main shipyard.

As they started down on the other side, Renia tripped slightly on her dress, but Trev managed to catch her before she fell. Helping her the rest of the way down from the pile of boulders, they got over the rocks and out onto the shore. They would have to be careful not to turn an ankle or something, Trev thought worriedly. Both were barefoot, too, so that wasn't going to be pleasant.

Moonlight beamed down onto the water, casting a beautiful silvery-white glow all over everything. Trevadir barely noticed, being far more worried about getting away from the guards, and while the light would be helpful in seeing where they were going, he was concerned that it would also show the guards where they were. Remembering a few things he'd heard from his friends over the years, Trev decided not to make for the trees just yet, and instead pulled Renia off to one side. Traveling alongside the wall, on the other side, went a few yards before ducking down behind a large boulder so they would be out of sight when the guards reached the place where they had climbed over.

Breathing hard, he covered his nose and mouth with both hands to stifle the noise of his breathing, and tried to keep quiet, listening. He didn't dare poke his head out, and listened very hard for a long time. Voices echoed toward them as the guards briefly checked the immediate area. Ultimately, they apparently decided it wasn't worth bothering to pursue the teenagers any further. They had their boat back, and these watchmen had not yet heard the news about the intruders from the other guards in the warehouse portion of the facility.

As soon as he heard the voices recede, Trev relaxed and stood up. "Let's go." He held out a hand to help her up. "We'd best make for the trees. Once we get there, we should be alright." He led the way, careful of his footing as they made their way by the moonlight across the rock-strewn shore. Renia kept close beside him, and they helped each other across the shore, and finally entered the dark woods.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
near Pelargir Harbor
Escaping a Warehouse, late at night

“Please tell me this is far enough.” Renia groaned after they had gone quite a ways into the woods. “These trees are a nightmare, I must’ve lost at least half of my hair already to these grabby trees and stuff.”

Trev stopped and looked around, slightly uncertain. It was too dark to see much in here, with the treetops blocking out the light from the moon. He realized that he wasn’t as much of a woodsman as he might have liked to think, although that was hardly surprising since the only times he’d been in any woods was back in the Pelennor, with Ryn and Nal leading the way. “Yeah… I guess we’re probably far enough in.” He decided after a moment.

“Let’s rest here.” He decided, feeling exhausted. He’d been working hard on the ship all day, trying to remember all the different commands called out, having to keep all that straight in his mind, then having to actually accomplish the task he’d been ordered to do. And then all this running… suddenly feeling all the weariness hit him, Trev flopped down in a patch of what he hoped were ferns, wondering what time it might be. He’d been up since before dawn, and now it was late into the night.

“Yeah,” She flung herself down unceremoniously on the ground beside him, both having forgotten they were still wearing those costly garments they'd never meant to take with them. “I’m so tired,” She yawned. “All that running, and climbing… then rowing and hiking through the woods…” She tucked her hands behind her head, like a pillow, and stared up at the treetops with a sigh.

Trev nodded, agreeing silently with that thought as he looked around, mentally identifying various critter noises that he heard around them. A screech owl, some kind of bug that he couldn’t remember the name of, a raccoon, and so forth. Nocturnal sounds that might sound frightening in the dark, if one didn’t know what they were. He still didn’t feel entirely convinced they were safe from pursuit, but at least he didn't hear anything to make him feel alarmed. He felt too tired to go any further right now.

“Well,” Renia laughed after a moment, and looked over at Trev. “That was a fun adventure!” She grinned.

He stared at her for a second, then laughed.

She grinned bigger and bigger until she was laughing.
Trev shook his head in amazement at the girl. “It was an adventure, for sure. But I’m not sure I’d call it fun,” He laughed slightly.

“That was incredible, by the way, the way you fought that guy off with the parasol! I never saw anything like that, that was great!” She declared, looking wide-eyed. “I was afraid he had us, but then you did that, and just… wow!”

Trev grinned, slightly pleased to hear how impressed she was by that. “Thanks. 'Was nothing, really. Just a few tricks my friend showed me," he refrained from sighing with sadness, not wanting to drag the mood down. "So, what do we do now?”

Renia hesitated. “Do you think they’ll find us?” She wondered, frowning slightly.

Trev tilted his head and listened, then slid down and pressed his ear to the ground, hoping he might be able to hear something. That was a trick learned from Ryn, as well as a few others who had taught Ryn things. “I don’t hear them,” He replied thoughtfully, though uncertain. "I think we'll be alright." He decided, rolling onto his back so that he was stretched out on the ground. “We’ll just rest for a moment, then.. we need to find our way back where we started.” He did have to get back to the ship in a couple of hours, because they were supposed to set sail after the evening ferry had come. Which must have already passed, he realized with a twinge of guilt. Dev was going to be annoyed, but he couldn't help it.

“You know something?” Renia remarked as she slid further down in the ferns beside him. “I’m glad I met you.” She smiled.

Trev smiled back, thinking how he had begun his evening so gloomy and depressed, and now.. he was having a fun, albeit unexpected, adventure with a new friend. “I’m glad I met you.” He replied quietly, meaning that wholeheartedly, though a bit sleepily.

---

Spots of sunlight danced over his face, filtering through the leafy canopy above. Trevadir woke slowly, reluctant to open his eyes. A nice, earthy smell greeted his nose, and a faint smile came upon his face. The first thought to come to mind was that he'd gone camping in the Pelennor with Nal and R- wait. The smile turned to a faint frown as he remembered that Ryn was gone. So, just Nal, and the girls. He heard someone stirring nearby, and a little sigh. A girl. Yeah, the girls were there, or at least one of them was. He re-situated, rolling onto his side and threw one arm over his face to block out the light, and let himself doze off again, lightly. He was comfy, and it felt like ages since he’d been able to get a proper night’s rest. This was nice.

Another hour or so passed. His brain did not want to relinquish the nice comfy feeling of being asleep.

“Oh, Trev!” Renia exclaimed softly beside him, suddenly sitting up.

“Hmm?” Trev mumbled sleepily.

“Wake up, Trev. It’s morning! We have to get back!”

“S'alright, Cali, we’ll just tell the teacher-” Trev trailed off and frowned, puzzled, realizing that was not Cali’s voice. Nor was it Iole’s. He opened his eyes. “Renia,” He blinked, remembering the events of the day before. He swiftly sat up, alarmed to realize that it was indeed morning. He rubbed the sleep his eyes. “Ohhh, shoot... Dev's going to kill me.” He muttered, cringing. He jumped up from the ferns and looked around. “We.. uh. We’d better get back to the ships.” He frowned slightly, reluctant to face his father's anger, but he knew it was inevitable, and the longer he put it off, the fiercer that wrath would become.

"How do we get back?" She asked, looking around in concern.

Trev paused to look around, then closed his eyes as he thought hard, trying to figure out where they were, compared to where they wanted to be. "Um, we need to go.. this way." He hoped he was right, anyway. Setting off through the woods, he glanced around frequently, trying to make sure not to lose his bearings, or what bearings he had.

“That's really neat how you figured out which way we have to go.” Renia mentioned. "Are you sure we won't get lost?"

Trev hesitated. “Uh, yeah. Well. I.. had a friend who was a ranger of Ithilien.. and my other friend, his father was one for ages. So, we grew up hearing all about it.” He mentioned quietly, with a small shrug as he held back a branch for her, and they stepped out into a small clearing filled with small white flowers growing among the grass. The morning sunlight streamed through the treetops, making the whole scene glow with a magical sort of feel to it.

Trev looked back to comment to Renia about how pretty the scene before them was, then he frowned as he suddenly realized something. “Uh, you know, we’re still wearing those fancy clothes.” He pointed out. He’d forgotten all about them until now. “What should we do?”

Renia considered that for a moment, then shrugged and twirled in place. “I think we should enjoy them for a bit longer.” She declared, grinning. “I don’t know what this fabric is, but it’s very fancy, and swishy.”

“It’s called taffeta,” Trev informed her, wondering if he should be embarrassed that he knew that. He smiled though, watching her spin and twirl in the late afternoon light, the skirt swirling around her. “You know, you look like a rich noble lady or something,” He commented.

Renia laughed. “Do I really?” She asked with a grin.

“Yeah, well… maybe if you fixed your hair up in some fancy do, and put on some shoes...” He mentioned, grinning in amusement. On a sudden impulse, he stepped closer with a grin. He held out a hand and bowed dramatically. “May I have this dance, m’lady?” He teased.

She giggled, taking his hand and allowed him to give her a spin. “You look like a.. count or something. Or maybe a pirate captain.” She declared suddenly. “A captain with very expensive taste in fashion.” She added, grinning.

As Renia turned to pick some of the flowers, Trevadir’s smile vanished. A pirate captain? Did he really look like that? Taking the hat from his head(which he was surprised he hadn't lost in all the running around), he stared at the plumage and extravagant trimming around the edge. He hadn’t meant to have that sort of look. It was jarring to hear her say that, but now that she pointed it out, he realized she was right. He must look just like his father, who was always wanting to acquire fancy stuff like this, to make himself feel rich. And that was the very last thing Trev wanted, now that he knew what his father was truly like.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir
Lost? in a forest outside the Harbor

Trev quietly dropped the hat onto the grass, then removed the waistcoat. Folding it in half, he draped it across a nearby tree branch. Next, he slid the silken trousers off, revealing his own plain, brown trousers underneath. Then he removed the doublet, and laid it next to the waistcoat. Last came the white, lace-trimmed shirt. Once it was folded next to the other items, Trevadir was fully back to his own regular clothes. He picked up the hat and laid it down on top of the pile of other things, frowning as he gazed at extravagant clothing he had discarded.

“What’re you doing? Trev?” Renia had turned and seen that he had removed the fancy clothes.

Trev turned to look at her, and hesitated. "I don't want to pretend to be anyone but who I am." He answered. "Anyway, we technically stole these clothes, you know.” He mentioned.

Renia shrugged. “It’s not like we meant to. And it’s their own fault, they wouldn’t give us a chance to get out of them. They just kept chasing us and yelling for the guards.” She pointed out. “We weren’t intending to take them, just try them on for a bit. But, well… it just happened. And I’m not going back there to return them, are you?”

“No.. but...” He sighed. “We should leave them somewhere they’ll find them. We have no right to keep these things.”

She gave him a long look, her expression unreadable for a moment, then she looked down at the dress thoughtfully. “Perhaps we could sell them. I bet we’d get quite a lot just for this dress. And think of how much that doublet must cost!”

The guilt flooded Trev at those words. Just one of those carved, gold buttons could probably get his grandmother through a whole year without having to work. Maybe two, knowing how frugal she was. And yet, she would never accept any ill-gotten money. She’d rather starve to death than to use money from stolen goods, and he knew it. “I couldn’t do that.” He told her flatly. “I won’t tell you what to do,” he sighed, “but I know it's wrong to keep something that doesn’t belong to you, knowing that it belongs to someone else.”

“It’s just a warehouse,” Renia reminded him, puzzled. “What’s the big deal? They’re just going to send it to some clothing shop, and they’ll sell it and make a lot of money. Why shouldn’t we get that money instead?”

“Renia.” Trev frowned, struggling to try and explain this. He’d never had to explain it to anyone before, and it was strange. “Whoever these things came from originally.. they’re the ones who made this stuff.” He started at the beginning. “They put in a lot of work and time to do all that embroidery, and sewing and stuff, so then the warehouse people bought these things from them." He was pretty sure that was how it worked, anyway. "And… then they sell this stuff to the stores. They don’t just get it for free, and give it away for free. So, if we sell this stuff, the people who run the warehouse are getting cheated because they paid for it, and then they wouldn’t be getting the money for the sale.”

Renia listened, toying with the parasol thoughtfully. She frowned. “Well, they were mean.” She tried to justify. “They chased us, we.. couldn’t help it. They wouldn’t let us take the stuff off…”

Trev sighed. “Yeah, I know, but…”

“Well, it’s not like it’d kill them to take a loss on two outfits.” She frowned, clearly reluctant to admit he was right.

Trev looked down at the ground, thinking a little harder. “What about the local stores? And the people who work there?” He asked softly.

“What about them?” She looked up at him, tilting her head curiously.

“Look at it this way. Suppose the shops don’t get everything they requested. Maybe they already paid for it, maybe they didn’t. But either way, that’s two less outfits they have for their customers. It doesn’t seem like much, but it does cut into their business. Say the customer who would’ve bought that dress decides to go to some other shop because they couldn’t get what they wanted there, but the other shop has something similar. Then, suppose they decide they’ll just buy all their clothes from this other shop in the future, and never come back to the other. What happens to that first shop? Maybe they start losing business because of that. Maybe they can’t afford to keep their employees on, so they get fired. What about the employees? What about their families? How do they support themselves then?” He stopped himself, suddenly realizing he was getting a little bit carried away. He fidgeted slightly. “Well… anyway. That’s… a bit drastic, but…”

“I get it.” Renia replied, frowning. “Yeah, it is drastic, but… I guess it is a good point.” She sighed. “I wasn’t even entirely serious, I guess, but it was a nice thought… I bet this dress must cost a fortune,” She shrugged, and slipped out of it. She folded it carefully and laid it beside the stuff he had discarded. “There. Now what do we do with it?”

Trev leaned the parasol against the tree, then stopped. “What’s this?” he picked up something that had fallen out onto the sand when she removed the dress.

“Oh… that’s nothing.” Renia snatched it from him, and went to tuck it into her sleeve.

Trev caught her arm and grabbed it away from her before she could stash it out of sight. Unrolling the paper, he glanced at it, then at her. “Renia!”

“It might lead to treasure!” She protested. “It’s just a map. That couldn’t hurt anyone… don’t tell me it’s going to put some poor family out on the streets, there is no way that could possibly connect to a lousy map. They can make a new map…”

Trev frowned and looked at the map for a moment. “Well, my brother does have this friend whose father is a mapmaker…” He started, then sighed with a slightly teasing smile, and pushed it at her. “Just kidding... fine. I guess it doesn’t matter that much. If they have to have another map made, then it'll just help give more business to the ones who make it.” He shrugged.

Renia rolled her eyes, rolling the map back up into a tube which she then slid into her sleeve. “About the clothes though," She shrugged. "I dunno. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to innocent people. Maybe we could put them someplace near the warehouse so they'll find them.”

"Good idea. We can wrap them up or something, and address the package to the manager of the warehouse, maybe."

She smiled. "Yes, perfect." She took a moment to fold the garments carefully. "There's only a little dirt on the hem here, and then.. well, the hem on these trousers will have to be cleaned, but I don't think they're damaged." She tucked the bundle under one arm.

"So, I guess it's time to get back to the ships."

Trev tried not to feel too disappointed to hear that, though he knew she was right. He nodded slightly. “Yeah. I guess so.” He acknowledged, yet made no move to go.

"So, which way?" Renia asked expectantly.

"This way," Trev answered, trying not to let on how reluctant he was to return. In fact, it briefly occurred to him that if he followed the river upstream long enough, he'd end up back at Minas Tirith eventually. But, then he remembered the danger in going home, and tried to put the thought from his mind. No, he couldn't go home. The only place he could go was back to Dev. Without a word, he set off through the forest toward where he believed the harbor should be.


To be continued...

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha and Sîrenia
Pelargir Harbor

"Well, there it is." Trev declared as they emerged from the forest at last. Before them, they could see the harbor at last. He sighed heavily, reluctant to keep going.

“You sure are a strange pirate.” Renia commented with a little laugh.

Trev tilted his head. “I never said I was a pirate.” He answered quietly.

Renia thought back. “Hm…no, I guess you didn’t. But I thought..” She paused, taking his arm as she guided the way back toward the harbor. “You said you were from the ship called Wingôlost. I happen to know they’re pirates…”

“What makes you say I’m strange?” he wondered, not answering about the pirate thing.

“Well, you’re lousy at rowing, you don’t agree with stealing, you’re constantly worried about breaking rules, and you don’t drink or curse..” She grinned teasingly at him. “Very strange for a pirate.”

Trev smiled faintly. “Well, I’m sort of new on board.”

“Ah.. cabin boy?” She guessed.

Trev looked away, feeling his face grow a little warmer. “Something like that.” He mumbled.

“Well, I think you’re very fun.” She smiled at him. “We should try to meet more often.” She decided, grinning as she slid her arm through his. "Let's go get this stuff wrapped up and sent back to the warehouse."

Trev smiled to hear her say that, but couldn't think of anything to say. He looked around a bit nervously as they entered the busy shipyard, but no one raised any alarm. Before long, they had found some parcel paper, wrapped up the bundle of clothing, addressed it to the owner of the warehouse, and attached a note offering their apologies for all the trouble. Once they'd left it in a place that it was sure to be returned where it belonged, they set off together to return to the shipyard.

“Well, that was fun." Renia declared. "I’d like to see you again. We should have another fun adventure like this one, some other time.” She grinned, then stopped at the dock where her ship was moored.

Trev laughed lightly, walking arm in arm with her. “How do you expect to do that, when we never know for sure when we’ll be in the same harbor? We might be out at sea for weeks or months, and come to one harbor, and you might be somewhere across the sea.”

“Well… true.” She sighed and remained silent for a moment. "What if we left messages?" She asked, grinning. "Anytime I come to a port, I'll leave a message in a bottle. I'll tie it to one of the pier posts, under the pier or something, so it'll be hidden, but you'll find it if you look for it. Sound good?"

Trev grinned, pleased by that thought. "Perfect. I'll do the same." In fact, that gave him a vague idea for maybe trying to contact his friends somehow, but he would have to think on it a bit more to figure out how he might make it work. “Of course, if we do have any other adventures, I think we’d better stay clear of the guards next time.” He mentioned with a brief glance around, slightly nervous.

Renia laughed. “Oh, don’t worry about them. They have no good cause to arrest us. We didn’t do anything really wrong, and we gave back the clothes. So, we’re fine. Don’t worry about it, Trev.” She shrugged, then let go of his arm. “I’ll look for you, Trev.” She smiled. “Next time I see the Wingôlost around, I’ll find you.”

Trev smiled. “Yeah. Well, I’ll see you around..” He waved, wondering why he felt so disappointed to see her going. He stood for a moment watching her stroll down the pier to board her ship, and only when she was out of sight, did he let out a sigh. If only he could believe that there was nothing to worry about. But he couldn't forget what Dev had said to the contrary, and shook his head slightly. "Maybe you're fine, but not me." He muttered under his breath. Still, the idea of seeing her again sometime made him cheer up slightly.

He paused to look around carefully to ensure there were no guards lurking around before hurrying toward his father's ship. The day was more than half gone, and he felt guilty because the Wingôlost was supposed to have left yesterday. But, he hoped maybe the crew would have stayed out drinking and such all night, so with any luck, the other crew members had come back to the ship late last night(or rather in the early morning) and would have been weary and unwilling to set sail right away. So maybe, hopefully, he wouldn’t be in too much trouble. Or, if he was really, really lucky, they might have gone off without him...

But he quickly saw that wasn't the case. Though, maybe that was a good thing, since Dev insisted that he was only safe from guards if he stayed with him. It was frustrating, but he didn't know what else to do. He glanced around cautiously as he stepped onto the deck and crept toward the crew quarters in hopes of slipping in without being noticed...

---

Devedir and Trevadir Thôrmaetha
On board the ship using the name Wingôlost

“Where have you been?” Dev’s voice startled him. His voice sounded more than angry; his voice was filled with an icy rage that frightened Trev a bit.

Trevadir stopped in his tracks, wishing he could melt into the wood. “I..uh..”

Before he had a chance to say anything further, his father strode toward him with a cold sort of fury palpable in the air between them. Trev backed away until he was against the wall of the cabin. While his father had never hit him, he wasn't sure what he might do, now.

“I told you we were setting sail after the evening ferry had come, didn’t I?” Dev asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Trev looked up, hesitant. “Yeah, bu-”

“YESTERDAY?” Dev glared, his brown eyes blazing with wrath as he stepped closer.

Trev was unable to back away any further. “I didn’t mean to be late! I couldn’t help it!” He protested, slightly wide-eyed, wondering if his father was about to hit him or something. While he had never done so before, Trev wasn't quite sure what to expect right now.

Dev stared at him for a moment, looking like he might be struggling inside. Then, with a slow breath, he stepped back. “You put us in danger, boy. The astronomer never showed. I'm worried that he's decided to double-cross us... so the longer we hang around here, the more danger we're in. All of us. So, I hope you’re pleased with yourself.” He retorted icily.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, really.”

“You will, most definitely, be sorry.” Dev replied coolly. "You'll have to be punished for this. Samroth!" He called toward where the man was. He cast a disdainful look toward his son before he started to walk away.

Trev’s heart sank further, and his eyes widened in alarm. Samroth was a big, intimidating guy. “No, Dev, please… Dad..” Trev stepped after him, imploringly. "Not him-"

Dev whirled around and glared at him, causing Trev to recoil back a step. “I told you not to call me that. Didn’t I?”

Cringing slightly, Trev dropped his head down and nodded. “Yes, Captain. I’m sorry.”

“You are such a disappointment, Trevadir. When will you stop being such a wimp? Get out of my sight.” Dev snapped.

The words cut like a knife in his heart. Trev flinched slightly, looking up at him briefly, unable to hide the hurt on his face. He remained standing against the wall for a moment, looking back down as he struggled to fight back the tears brought on by the hurtful words. Closing his eyes for a moment, he clenched his teeth and tried to summon anger to cover up his hurting heart.

"Just for the record," Trev spoke up, opening his eyes again as he glared after Dev. "I had to run from the guards. Just like you said to do, remember?" He folded his arms, letting his anger surge up to hide his pain. "That's why I wasn't here. They wouldn't stop chasing me. I came back to the ship as quick as I could, but I.. had to make sure I'd lost them first.” He explained, then dropped his gaze as his anger faded somewhat, instead feeling guilty for omitting so much of the tale and altering some bits. But he didn’t know what Dev might think if he told him he’d been with a girl the whole time, fearing that he might think Trev was lying about the rest to cover up for what he and this girl might have ‘really’ been doing all night. And Trev really didn’t want to have to deal with that.

“Hmm." Dev folded his arms, studying him for a moment. "Well, at least you weren't stupid enough to lead them here.” He replied, as Samroth walked up to stand beside Dev. "Now, I have a ship to get underway." He turned to Samroth. "See that he's suitably punished." With that, Dev strode away and left Trev to whatever punishment Samroth decided to give him. Before long the pirate ship had sailed off to their next destination.


The End

[Rillewen]

(private, solo post)

Jay with Dev
Somewhere in the Ocean - On a ship using the name Wingôlost
(Some point before the War of the Ring, and after the previous tale)

“He did what?” Dev stared at the man before him, thinking he must not have heard correctly.

“He shredded them, Captain. All of them.”

Dev gave a slow nod. “I thought that’s what you said.” He turned his head and looked at Jay, standing just off to the side, sighing in exasperation.

“Did he mess with the spare sails?” Jay asked Grisly, frowning.

“No, those were locked up in a chest, the stupid kid didn’t even seem to know we had backups.” He scoffed with a little laugh, then hesitated. “Sorry,” He added, unsure if the Captain would be be upset at him calling his kid stupid.

“Right,” Dev took a deep breath. rubbing his temple with two fingers, and nodded. “Well, how long till we’ve got sails again? And what about the target?”

“The men are working on it as we speak, but the merchant ship seems to have got away.” Grisly reported with a scowl. “Not only did he shred the sails, but he also ran up the colors so they'd see who we really are. They seen us and took off quick as they could go.”

Dev clenched his jaw, taking a slow breath in before turning away toward the horizon, his hands gripping the railing.

“Uh, how do you want him punished, captain?” Grisly asked, hesitantly.

“I don’t care.” Dev retorted, then caught sight of the moon hanging low, barely showing up yet in the late afternoon sky. Yet, the sight of it reminding him of something. He sighed and turned again. “Wait.” He stopped the sailor. “For now, just put him in the brig. I’ll think on it.” Seeing the puzzled, and somewhat disappointed look on Grisly's face, he added, “Feel free to fill his head with any ideas you can think of about what might be coming to him, though.” He smiled darkly. “That ought to give him something to think about while he waits…”

Grisly grinned. “Aye captain.” He nodded and hurried off to follow orders, while Dev ran a hand over his face and sighed. He held out an arm, inviting Ningaear to perch there. When the gyrfalcon had come down from her previous spot in the rigging, and situated herself on Dev’s arm, he lightly stroked the soft feathers of the bird’s chest. “That boy is getting to be quite an irritation.” The pirate muttered under his breath.

“Yeah,” Jay answered, watching Dev pet the bird, presumably to help him regain his sense of calm. “Which makes me wonder why we keep putting up with him. I mean, I know he’s your son and all, but…”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Dev scowled. “You really think I’d keep enduring the brat just because of sentimentality?” He scoffed and set off toward his cabin.

Jay frowned in confusion and tagged along. “So, why do you want him around?” he wondered, a bit audaciously perhaps, but he was a bit more familiar with Dev than any of the rest, and they had worked together for nearly twenty years. It was why he’d been made first mate, despite his lack of knowledge of sailing.

Dev sighed, pushed open the door, and waved for Jay to come in. “I need to write this in the log.” He muttered, taking a seat at the desk.

Jay, meanwhile, pushed the door closed and leaned against the wall, arms folded as he watched Dev pull out the ship’s log. “So, what? You were acting all… I dunno... friendly like? When he first came aboard, you know. Showing him around, telling us all to be nice and teach him stuff…”

Dev waited while Ningaear moved from his arm to a post he’d placed there at the desk, just for her. “That was the first week or two.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe I had a vague hope that he’d take to our way of life. Maybe I wanted to.. test the waters, so to speak. Ease him into it, see how it went. But that’s obviously out of the question, given his latest…hobby,” He scowled at the reference to Trevadir’s newfound penchant for sabotaging the ship. “and how he protests about everything, whines about morals and the Valar and all that nonsense.”

“Then let’s get rid of him.” Jay shrugged, confused. “Take him back to Gondor, or leave him on an island somewhere-”

Dev shook his head slightly. “No, I can’t do that.” He sighed. “He stays.. for now, anyway.”
“What about the ship?” Jay asked, incredulous.

“I know…” Dev frowned. “I’m extremely annoyed about that, believe me. I just.. have to make him come around to our way of thinking, that’s all.” He thought for a moment. “He’ll stop this nonsense eventually, and see that it’s much easier to just go along with us, than to fight us.” He nodded and began writing, focusing on what he was doing.

A little baffled, Jay frowned, watching and thinking. “Maybe..” He hesitated, but continued on. “You might try another approach?” He suggested.

Glancing up, Dev looked at him and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Another approach?”

“Well, yeah. The way you’re going about things now, you’re making an enemy of him.” He pointed out. “But if you made a friend of him…”

“A friend?” Dev scoffed. “Me, friends with some snot-nosed kid?"

"He's not that much of a kid, really..." Jay mentioned.

"He’s barely even thirteen.”

“I thought he was fifteen?” Jay rolled his eyes and disregarded that. “Anyway, the point is, he’s a teenager.”

“And a very irritating one.” Dev turned back to writing in his log.

“One who’s angry and lashing out at you, the only way he figures he can. By attacking your ship.” Jay pointed out. “He’s angry at you, Dev, but it’s your ship that’s suffering for it. And the rest of us are going to suffer for it, too, if we end up low on supplies this far from land, or if he leads the guards to us, or if he causes our Umbarian allies to turn on us...”

His frown deepening, Dev’s quill stilled for a moment as he considered this point. “He keeps this sort of thing up and he’ll see what angry really is.”

“That’s just my point,” Jay mentioned. “I mean, I’m just thinking, maybe you ought to try being.. nicer to the kid. Like you were on the first.”

“Since when do you care about the brat?” Dev raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t. I care about the ship, making profits, and not getting stranded out in the middle of the ocean.” Jay replied. “Or arrested. Or, you know…” He motioned vaguely in the direction of Umbar.

“And what exactly do you think ‘being nice to him’ is going to accomplish?”

Jay sighed and came closer, pulling up a chair. “Look, I’m pretty observant, right? And I’d have to be blind to not see how he was that first week or so. The kid was so excited to be around you, he would’ve done anything you asked of him. I never saw a kid admire his father so much. And now…” He trailed off. “It’s gone downhill ever since he wandered off in Pelargir that time, and kept us waiting. You said some pretty harsh stuff to him, you know. And even after that, for a while there he was trying really hard to get you to forgive him, and you.. well... anyway, now, he’s just…” He shrugged, finding it unnecessary to finish the sentence.

“So, what, you think I should hold his hand and just give him a little slap on the wrist when he acts up and puts us all in danger or something?” Dev scoffed. “He’s not a toddler. He was insufferable enough back when he was one, and yet… I’m starting to prefer him that way.”

“So, get rid of him.” Jay made a somewhat frustrated gesture with his hands. “Everyone’s getting really fed up with this stuff.”

“I told you, I can’t do that. I have.. something in mind. And it requires him being alive and unscathed.” Dev sighed, sitting back in his chair. “And unfortunately, I need to keep him close for when the time is right.” He frowned.

Jay gave him an inquisitive look, but didn’t dare ask what the captain’s plan was. “Well, anyway. Just a thought. I mean, he was fine on the first, when things were good between you and him. I even sorta liked him a bit,” he shrugged. “Now, well, I’m pretty irritated that he’s taken all this stuff that we taught him, and using it against us.”

Dev sighed and stared at the porthole at the moon, which was a bit more visible as the daylight faded a little. “Yeah.” He frowned and considered that while his hand, loosely closed, rested against his chin, the other hand supporting the elbow. His fist lightly tapped against his mouth a few times while he considered the things Jay was saying. After a moment, he sighed and looked back at his first mate, folding his arms over his chest. “So, you think I should be nice to him. What’ve you got in mind?”

Jay shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s your kid.”

Dev scoffed in distaste. “Don’t remind me.”

Jay considered that for a moment, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You really can’t stand the boy, can you?” He asked, hoping he hadn’t been too bold by asking, but it was a bit puzzling to him. While his own father hadn’t been very great at being a father, and had often left him alone for days or more at a time… he’d never acted as if he couldn’t stand Jay’s presence.

Dev stared at the log book with a frown for a long moment. “No. I can’t.” He answered at last in a quite voice. “He reminds me of what I’ve lost.”

Jay looked at him, taking a moment to absorb that answer. He'd met Dev some years before his wife died, and was well aware how much her death had affected him. “He looks like you though.” He pointed out after a brief silence, a little puzzled.

“Yes, but he’s got her eyes.” Dev mentioned softly.

“So.. you can’t stand him because..?” Jay asked, trying to make sense of this.

Dev frowned deeper. “Because he reminds me too much of her. It’s like he’s taunting me, constantly reminding me what I lost.” He scowled. The admission was definitely not something he would tell just anyone. He knew Jay wouldn’t go repeating it, because he had a thing about not backstabbing those he worked with. “That stays between you and me, Jay.” he added quietly, with a glance at his first mate.

“Of course.” The thief nodded slowly, pondering the reason Dev had given for why he couldn’t tolerate his own son. He sat back. “So. You’re stuck with him, because you need him for something, but you despise him, because.. of that.” he frowned.

“Besides that, I despise children in general.” Dev mentioned, picking up his quill again. He didn’t start writing with it yet, though. He ran the feather slowly through a small loop made with his thumb and first finger, thoughtful. “I suppose you have a valid enough point, though. If we must have him aboard for a while, it’d be much more pleasant if he wasn’t being such an irritation.” He shrugged and carefully dipped the nib of the quill into the inkpot. “Though, he does still need a punishment.” he added with a frown.

“Maybe something light?” Jay suggested tentatively. “You could tell him you’re being lenient, this time, and warn him about how much worse it might be next time, or something. Then..”

“I’ve got it.” Dev smiled in his devious sort of way. “He won’t like it, but at least it won’t harm him. Then.. maybe tomorrow I’ll do some sort of bonding thing with him or whatever.” he shrugged. “She used to make me spend ‘quality time’ with the brat when he was a toddler,” He rolled his eyes. “I could usually come up with something that wasn’t too miserable for me, and that the boy seemed to enjoy.” He shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”

“Great.” Jay smiled, relieved that maybe the captain’s son would get over his sulking, angry mood. He stood up. “I’ll see how the sail situation is going. Want me to pass on any messages?”

“Yeah. Tell Samroth to make Trev empty, and clean, all the buckets.” He smirked, thinking of the various buckets which were used for when nature called but going out on the deck to take care of it was inopportune or not possible.

Jay paused, raising an eyebrow, and snorted a laugh. “Gross. Yeah, that ought to make him think before he does anything like this again.” Shaking his head slightly, he started toward the door before remembering something else. “Since we didn’t get the merchant,” He turned back. “What now?”

Dev paused in his writing, frowning. “We’ll catch up to them. I’m not going back to Gimlân with a failure hanging over us. We’ll do what we were hired to do, and then we’ll head back to Umbar.” He answered. “And I’ll need to send a message to the temple by the time we get there.”

Jay paused, fighting back a shiver at the mention of that place. “You..uh, planning to send Trev to deliver that message?”

“Of course.” Dev answered, still writing.

“Hmm.” He thought for a moment, cleared his throat lightly, and stepped back toward the desk. “Think that’s a good idea? What with the whole..’being nice to him’ thing? I mean, that place is..” He couldn’t help a little shudder, then.

Dev glanced over at him and smiled slightly in amusement. “What? Afraid he won’t come back? Weren’t you just saying you’d like to be rid of him?”

“Well, I didn’t mean…” Jay shook his head. “No, it’s just, I wouldn’t think Trev would be very eager to do that errand for you even if you were best buddies, after how shaken up he was the last time. And besides… I thought you said you needed him alive and unscathed? Don’t you remember what happened to the last guy who used to take your letters up there-”

“Kormak was an idiot.” Dev snorted a laugh. “I told him not to open those letters, or the consequences would be severe.”

“Yeah… and as you said before, Trev is practically still a kid. They’re like, made of curiosity.”

“Don’t worry about Trev. I think I’ve impressed on him how extremely important it is to his health, that the letters arrive with the seals unbroken, each time.”

Jay shook his head slightly, sighing. “And when he protests having to go back there? Won’t that undo whatever progress you will have made with the whole ‘bonding’ thing? I mean, he made it really clear how very opposed he is to that errand…”

Dev rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine. I told you, don’t worry about him.”

“I’m not worried, exactly… just wondering. Why are you so determined that it be him?” Jay frowned in confusion.

“For one thing, no one else in the crew is brave enough,” Dev scoffed and rolled his eyes. “And second.. I don’t trust any of the others to not just hide it away and say they delivered it, or to get stupid like Kormak did. And beyond that… I’ve got my own reasons for why I want him to go. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Alright…” Jay shrugged. “If you say so. I just hope it won’t result in more ship sabotage in the future.” He shook his head, somewhat skeptical about Dev’s decision, but didn’t press the issue.

“Get on with your own message, will you?” Dev glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m going, I’m going.” Jay raised his hands slightly in a vague ‘surrender’ gesture, indicating that he didn’t intend to keep arguing, and left to carry out his orders. At least he’d convinced Dev to make an attempt at winning Trev back on their side, so hopefully, things would be smooth sailing from here on out.

---

Trevadir (age 15)

His hands were a bit sore. Trev stared at them with a frown, thinking of all the time he had wasted. It took him hours, nearly all night, to cut all the sails into little strips too small to sew together. He'd even tried switching hands now and then to give his right hand a rest from gripping the dagger, but had continued determinedly working at his task, which had turned out to be useless. It took all of maybe ten minutes for them to bring out the backup sails he hadn't realized they had. Even less time for him to be tossed down here in the ship's prison. Brig, they called it. He frowned and flexed his hands, trying to work out the soreness.

Above, he could faintly hear the sounds of the pirates attacking the other ship. He hadn't given the merchant enough time to get away. He sighed and put his head down, wrapping his arms around his shins. He'd tried to help the merchant, but his efforts weren't good enough. It wasn't long before he heard people coming. He lifted his head, adopting a defiant scowl as several of the crew matched their new prisoners down to the brig.

"Come on, out." Da'mikr ordered. Grabbing Trev by the arm, he practically dragged him out of the cell, and pushed the prisoners inside, in his place. Trev was glad to be released, but his stomach sank at the sight of all those innocent people being locked up in his place. The crew of the merchant ship. He stood staring in dismay at the battered and frightened sailors. They'd put up a fight, by the looks of it, and now they'd be stuck here in the brig until they reached Umbar. After that... he didn't want to think about what would happen to them.

"Get up there and help load the goods," Da'mikr ordered, shoving Trev toward the steps. He glanced back toward the captives with a remorseful look, then dropped his head and went to obey orders with a sigh. As the 'Boatswain's mate', Da'mikr answered directly to Samroth, and Samroth was not someone he wanted to provoke. He was already in enough trouble about the sails.

And after doing his part in loading the other ship's supplies into their own cargo hold, under Samroth's strict supervision, Trev was informed what his punishment would be for that shredded sail business. At first, cleaning buckets didn't sound like a big deal. Until he realized what a lot of those buckets contained, and that it was more than just a matter of dumping the contents out. He also had to scrub out the inside of each bucket. He gagged multiple times as he went about his new chore and struggled not to spill anything on himself. It was a miserable day, and by the time it was nearing its end, Trev could hardly wait to climb into his hammock and get some sleep.

At last, he wearily followed the others down to the crew's quarters, his feet dragging with exhaustion. After a night without sleep, he was looking forward to curling up in his bunk, and he expected to sleep well tonight. But, arriving at his hammock, Trev stopped and blinked at the sight that met his eyes. His hammock was shredded. Each end still hung where it had been, stretched between two support beams, but the fabric was in tatters, purposely shredded with a knife. He reached out and picked up the pile of blanket that was heaped in the middle, and found that it, too, had been shredded into useless strips. As snickers began to erupt from around the room, Trev looked up and found that all the crew were enjoying the 'joke' at his expense. He didn't bother asking who was responsible for that, as he assumed they all had a part in it. Dropping the ruined blanket, he mentally thanked the Valar his notebook and flute had both been with him, where they couldn't damage either one.

"What's a'matter, boy? Did the rats chew up your bunk?" One of the guys laughed.

Clenching his jaw, Trev looked back at him. "That seems to be the case, yeah." He retorted, letting them figure out that implication, if they were smart enough. He glanced around the room. All the other bunks were occupied. He let out a silent sigh, shoulders drooping as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He had nowhere to sleep tonight, and was too tired to spend a lot of time searching for a new hammock or anything. Besides, he figured neither Samroth nor Da'mikr would be very enthused about giving him a new one. Of course, that meant he'd have to sleep on the hard floor, without a blanket.

Their laughter followed Trev as he stormed out of the room, going back on the deck. They'd clearly gotten quite a bit of entertainment out of that little prank, and he figured it'd be the talk of the ship for a few days. Everyone laughing at how they got him back for the sail thing. He scowled and kicked uselessly at the deck, wishing there was something he could slam and kick and punch. Or, better yet, some way that he could stop them from doing these horrible things. He thought of the captured men down in the brig, and he felt his heart sink. If only he could help them somehow. But there was nothing he could do for them now.

Instead, he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. "Didn't want to sleep in the room with those guys, anyway." He muttered under his breath. Turning to the rigging, he sighed again and began to climb. Once he had settled in the currently empty lookout's spot, he curled up and tried to get comfortable enough to sleep. Maybe, if he was lucky, no one would find him up here until he'd had plenty of sleep.

Just before he closed his eyes, a thought occurred to him. Maybe he couldn't help these particular sailors. But maybe, someday, if he could provide enough information... someone else could. Sitting up swiftly, he pulled out his notepad and piece of charcoal he used as a pencil, and began writing by the light of the moon overhead. He would keep notes, make a log of his own about everything that happened, and gather all the information he could, so that one day he might have a chance to put that information to use. If he could somehow use this situation to make sure that this evil was eradicated, then it would be worth all the misery he had to endure for it, right? Hopefully.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Devedir and Trevadir Thôrmaetha (age 15)
On board the ship using the name Wingôlost
Somewhere out at sea - a day or two after the previous post

“What?” Trev stopped in front of his father, arms folded, a frown etched across his face. He’d been ordered to meet the captain on deck, starboard side. No one had told him anything at all to expect, and therefore, he had reached his own conclusion; that Dev wanted to gripe at him about something, or scold him for something else, or simply berate him over yet another thing. It was a common enough occurrence that Trev was getting used to it, even if he didn’t like it.

Dev was leaned against the rail, looking out at the water. The soft breeze played with his hair slightly. Dev turned his head to observe his son who had come at his bidding, and gave a smile. “Ah, Trev. You came.” The tone was neutral, almost pleasant in a way, and therefore, a bit puzzling.

Nearby, the gyrfalcon perched on the railing. She eyed Trev, but made no move at all. Trev eyed the bird in return, a bit unsure whether he trusted her or not. She was unpredictable, as far as he had seen, and seemed only to obey Devedir. She had, thus far, tolerated Trev’s presence, but otherwise seemed indifferent to him. “What do you want.. Dev?” He asked, feeling a little ache tug at his heart at the use of his father’s name. He longed more than anything to call him dad.. even father would be better than Dev. But that was what Dev insisted on being called, unless Trev preferred to call him Captain. Which sounded even more impersonal.

“I was thinking,” Dev turned to face Trev, resting his elbows on the rail behind him. “Uh. I may have been a bit harsh toward you lately. And, well,” He hesitated, shrugging. “It’s just.. a lot of work, running a ship. Stressful at times. I might get a bit tough sometimes, that’s all.”

Trev stared at him, his hostility beginning to fade slightly, replaced with disbelief. Was Dev actually apologizing? It seemed impossible, but.. what else could it be?

Dev cleared his throat. “So. Anyway,” he hesitated. “It’s been a little while since I included you in anything, and I realized, maybe you thought..” He trailed off, as if he couldn’t quite think of how Trev might be feeling. “Anyway, we ought to be in a good fishing spot about this time tomorrow. I.. remember you used to like fishing..?”

Trev blinked, a slow smile coming tentatively to his face as he realized his dad was, in his own way, asking if he still liked fishing. “I do, yeah.” He agreed, struggling to smother that hope that stubbornly pushed its way up from his heart. Hope that his dad was actually going to be the father he wanted.

Dev smiled slightly. “I bet you’ve never fished out in the ocean, have you?”

Trev shook his head, eyes widening slightly. “No, never.” Dimly, a memory from his childhood arose from the depths of his mind. Memories of his dad telling him (probably exaggerated) stories about fishing right from the prow of his ship, wrestling with some huge fish that nearly pulled him in before they achieved victory. As a toddler, Trev’d been enthralled with such tales, and had proclaimed that he wanted to try that someday. It seemed that day was actually going to happen tomorrow!

“Right, well that’s settled then. Tomorrow you learn deep sea fishing. Today, however..” Dev’s tone hinted at something that made Trev feel wary.

“Today?” Trev repeated hesitantly, wondering what to expect.

“Well, you’ve been with us for a while now, and yet… it’s come to my attention that I’ve neglected an important factor in your education as a member of this crew.” He smiled slightly, though Trev wasn't sure he liked the look of it.

Trev tilted his head, his wariness increasing. “Oh?” It sounded like he might be getting set up for a punishment of some sort. “What sort of.. education?” He wondered, feeling a bit tense suddenly.

Dev looked at him a moment, then rolled his eyes. “Relax, would you? I only meant that you haven’t learned the first thing about fighting yet.” He stepped forward and clapped the young man’s shoulder with one hand, and grinned. “Come on. You need to learn. Everyone has to learn this.”

Trev blinked, feeling a little bit lost. “Huh?” He definitely hadn’t expected that.

“You heard me.” Dev’s smile faded, but he shook his head. “You don’t want to be caught up in some enemy attack, not knowing how to defend yourself, do you? You’d better learn how to wield a blade, or you won’t last long with us. I’ve noticed how you don't practice with the others, and you stay out of all the fights we end up in-”

“That’s because I don’t want to fight.” Trev protested, frowning.

“You’re going to learn how, regardless. And next time we’re in a fight.. I expect to see you helping us, whether we're taking control of another ship’s crew, or defending our ship from some enemy.” He declared. “Now, come on.”

Sighing, Trev trailed along after him, unsure exactly what to say, as Dev strolled over to where an assortment of weapons lay strewn across a table on the deck. He wanted to protest and insist that he wouldn’t be involved in any of that stuff, but he couldn’t quite find the words to say. And he figured it wouldn’t do much good. So, he might as well just keep that thought to himself.

“Take your pick.” Dev told him with a wave of his hand over the collection.

Trev stared at the weapons with a sinking feeling. “Who says I don’t already know how to fight?” he frowned slightly.

“Oh, come on,” Dev rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. How would you have learned anything of the sort, with that overprotective old cow raising you?”

Trev blinked, then looked up at his father, opening his mouth indignantly, with all intentions of defending his grandmother. But he didn’t get a chance, as Dev had already grabbed a sword and tossed it at him.

“Dad!” Trev yelled, leaping back to avoid getting hit by the unsheathed weapon, which clattered onto the deck. “That’s sharp!”

Dev scowled, and cast a quick glance around before turning his gaze back on his son. “I told you not to call me that.” He muttered, clearly irritated.

Trev hesitated, then dropped his head down, feeling as if his heart sank lower into his chest. “Sorry.” He muttered, with a mixture of confusion, hurt, and disappointment.

“Pick it up and defend yourself!” The warning was barely a warning at all, for as soon as the words left his mouth, Dev leaped toward him, slashing his own blade toward Trev’s arm.

Eyes widening in alarm, Trev leaped back at an angle and avoided the slash, too caught off guard by this sudden attack to do anything but evade. “What are you doing?!”

“Teaching you to fight.” Dev answered, frowning. “Pick it up, Trev.”

“I don’t want to do this.” Trev told him flatly, folding his arms. “I don’t want to fight, and I told you I don’t want to be a pirate. And on top of all that, I don’t even want to use a sword. It’s not.. me.” He frowned, hesitant to reveal the small weapon he carried, concealed in the flute Ryn had made for him.

“Then pick something else,” Dev demanded, ignoring all the rest of what he’d said. “You’re going to learn this.” He insisted.

“Or what?” Trev frowned.

“Or you’ll end up killed, next time we get in a fight.” Dev retorted, as if it was a stupid question to ask. “Do you think our enemies will just ignore you because you aren’t carrying a weapon, and don’t know how to fight? Don’t be stupid, Trev.” He motioned to the table. “Pick one and learn to use it. And pick up that sword before you trip on it, even if you aren’t going to use it.”

Trev frowned, hesitating for a few seconds. He wanted to be defiant. He wanted to argue and fight over it, but he realized it would be futile. Dev was not going to let this go. He huffed a sigh and grabbed the sword up from the deck, then sulked his way over to the table, pushing the assorted weapons around grumpily as he searched for one that caught his eye. None of them were quite like he wanted. But he eventually selected a dagger, about the right length, and fairly similar to the same shape as the ones Ryn used to use. It was closest to what he liked than any of the rest, so he figured it would work well enough.

Turning to announce that he was ready, Trev was startled to find his father already coming at him, brandishing his weapon. Trev jumped to the side instinctively, struggling not to panic, then the sword was coming at him again in a downward slash. Trev swiftly blocked the slash, then his arm slid rapidly through the gap between their arms, around Dev’s elbow, hooked around it, and jerked his arm upward. The sword came away from Dev’s hand from the leverage Trev had applied to it, and he fumbled the weapon briefly before it clattered to the deck. It had been a few months since he practiced that move, and he’d never tried to pull it off against a sword, so he mentally grumbled at himself for not managing to catch the sword, which would have been a bit more impressive.

Still, it seemed Dev was surprised. He stepped back, startled. “What..” He snatched his sword back from the deck, and looked at Trev thoughtfully. "Must be beginner's luck.” He decided as he shook his head. “You couldn’t do that again if you tried.”

‘Wanna bet?’ Trev thought to himself, holding back a smirk. He shrugged, and backed away a couple of steps, inching toward the right. Dev circled, then leaped in with a slash to the middle. Trev jumped back, dodging it, then Dev's follow-up stab to the chest was swiftly knocked aside. Trev ducked a second, higher slash aimed for his head or neck, then as Dev brought his sword back for a backhanded slash, Trev brought his dagger up to block it swiftly, catching the captain's sword against his. Before Dev knew what was happening, Trev had swiftly pivoted his blade around so that it lay flat alongside Dev's, his hands holding both blades together. Then, with a quick circular motion, Trev yanked the sword away from his father.

Dev stumbled forward a couple of steps, caught by surprise as his momentum carried him after his sword. He looked at the sword in Trev’s hands, then at Trevadir. “Where did you learn that stuff?” He demanded, astonished.

Trev shrugged, tossing Dev’s sword back to him. His palms had a couple of tiny cuts which he knew were going to bother him for a few days, but it was no more than a cut he might get from the edge of paper. “A friend.” He replied vaguely, then tossed the dagger back onto the table and turned to walk away. His point had been made.

But Dev wasn’t finished with him. “Get back here, Trev.” He ordered, scowling.

Trev heaved a sigh, then turned on his heel, arms folded. “What now?”

“I want to know what else you can do.” Dev declared, frowning slightly.

Trev gave a tiny smirk. “Oh. Well, I can write poems, I can sew, I can play the flute, I can-”

“Trevadir.” Dev’s expression darkened.

Trev stopped short, a slight chill creeping down his back. Dev could be a bit scary when he used that tone. Dangerous. Like he might do anything if he was pushed far enough.

“I want you to practice fighting with different members of the crew on a regular basis. Get familiar with fighting against different weapons, fighting styles, different sized opponents, all that. Starting with me, today. Tomorrow, see Alrek about setting up a daily schedule. I’ll check on your progress at the end of each week. You’re fast, sure. And you’re pretty good, I'll give you that. But I want to make sure you’re good enough.”

Trev frowned. “Good enough? For what?” He scowled, feeling rather hurt by that choice of wording. He wasn’t good enough now? No… a little voice inside whispered. He wasn’t good enough, else Dev wouldn’t be ashamed for him to call him dad. That thought tugged open the wound in his heart just a bit wider.

“For anything.” Dev replied. “Whatever, and whoever, we might come across. Other pirates, guards, swan knights, whatever.” He shrugged. “I want my crew ready for anything. And you,” he poked Trev in the chest. “Are a member of the crew, whether you like it or not.”

Trev frowned, then looked at the scattered weapons on the table. “Do they have to be sharp?” He wondered, a bit uneasy about that.

“What, scared you'll get cut?” Dev scoffed. He glanced at him suspiciously, then grabbed Trev’s hand and turned it to look at the palm. Seeing the small cuts, he raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand. “Look at it this way, Trev. You train with dull swords, you dull your reflexes. Now you know that if you grab a sharp blade like that, you’re going to get cut.” He mentioned with a nod to Trev’s hand. “If you know the sword coming at you is going to cut off your arm or head if you don’t block it, you’re not going to just halfheartedly block it.. are you?”

Trev frowned, a bit uncomfortable about this. “But if I mess up..”

“If you mess up in practice, you’d mess up for real too. The only difference is, in practice, your opponents are only testing you. These guys know better than to actually kill you.. otherwise, they have me to answer to.” He added. “but, they are going to make you really fight. Maybe you'll think twice about doing things to annoy your crewmates, too, huh?" He smirked. "Anyway.. this way, you’re going to learn to fight just as you will in a real situation. You’ve got a few good moves already, but you need to be sure you know how to use them properly, or you’ll end up getting killed or losing a hand. Trust me, Trev.” Dev paused, and added, “I’m your father, I’m doing this for your own good.”

Trev frowned, still feeling rather uncomfortable about the idea of sparring with sharpened weapons, but he gave a small nod. Just the thought that Dev had actually referred to himself as his father.. that meant something. Maybe he was slowly coming around to this father/son thing, Trev thought with a tiny bit of hope.

“Now, come on, let’s start again.” Dev demanded. “Show me what else you can do, without cutting yourself this time.”


Practicing this sort of stuff with Nal and Ryn had always been fun, more like an exciting game where he got to learn fun tricks and different ways to disarm or disable an opponent and learning how to defend against different sorts of attacks. But this… training Dev's way was far more intense and demanding, and stressful. The fear of being actually harmed if he didn’t manage to block or dodge an attack was ever present, and it was clear Dev wasn't taking it easy on him at all. By the time Dev let him go, Trev was already dreading the training sessions looming in the near future.

As he went off to start on his duties elsewhere on the ship, Trev struggled to think optimistically like his friend Nal would be, but all he could think of was, ‘at least, if I train against all these other guys, I’ll learn how they fight. So then, if I ever have to fight any of them, I’ll have a bit of an advantage.’ He smiled faintly to himself, but it swiftly faded as he recalled Dev’s words about how he would have to help them fight next time. ’I will not attack those innocent merchants or travelers or whatever,' He thought determinedly. 'And I won’t fight against my countrymen. I’ll only fight if I have to defend myself, but that’s all.’ He frowned at the thought of that, wondering whether he'd be able to maintain that decision, but he would definitely do his best. “I will not turn against Gondor.” He muttered under his breath, feeling a little better to hear the words aloud, even if no one else heard them.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Devedir and Trevadir Thôrmaetha (age 15)
On board the ship using the name 'Wingôlost'
Northern side of the Cape of Andrast
Roughly a year or less before the War of the Ring

"So, you've never fished anywhere but the river?" Dev asked his son.

"Right." Trev couldn't help being a bit excited about this. Fishing with his dad, just like old times! This was what he'd hoped for, and it was finally happening. He wondered what sort of fish they might be able to catch, and tried to remember some of the species his dad had once told him about, long ago. "Are there any swordfish out here?" he asked hopefully, with a big grin.

Dev paused, considering. "Hmm, maybe. Hard to be sure what we might catch." He shrugged.

"What sort of stuff might there be, out here?" Trev wondered, leaning over the railing to peer down at the waves, as if he would be able to see the fish from here.

"Well, we might come across a lot of different types of fish. There's tuna, sailfish, barracuda, red snapper, grouper, swordfish, sharks..." He listed off a few he could think of right away.

"Sharks?" Trev looked up at his father with wide eyes. "No way you've caught a shark..."

"What, you think I would make that up?" Dev raised an eyebrow. "It's not unheard of to catch them. They're not as large as whales, and I've caught some of those before." He pointed out.

Trev thought for a moment and grinned. "Remember the 'whale' me and my friends caught that one time, we were little?"

Dev snorted. "You mean that huge catfish?" He rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Yeah, I remember. It was pretty big. I still have no idea how you three managed to catch that thing. But it was not a whale." He rolled his eyes. Truth was, he'd been relaxing on the bank of the Anduin with his fishing pole, ignoring the three small children he'd gotten stuck babysitting, after sending them off downstream to get them out of his way... when suddenly they came running back, excitedly dragging a catfish too heavy for one boy to carry by himself. It had taken all three to bring it back, and Dev remembered being both astonished and envious. He was still vaguely annoyed that his own catch had paled in comparison, that day.

"It seemed like a whale to us." Trev grinned, happily remembering that occasion. He couldn't remember if he was five or six, but it had been a great day...



It was a harrowing battle. The three boys were nearly dragged into the water multiple times by the ferocious monster, but they refused to give up. At last, all three fell backward on the bank as the enormous fish finally burst from the river, flopping around valiantly on the bank in its desperate attempt to get back into the water. Ryn was the first to hop up again. Grabbing Trev's line that was still attached to the monstrosity, he pulled with all his might to drag the fish away from the water's edge. Trev and Nal hastily grabbed the line as well, assisting their friend until they decided it was far enough away that there was no danger of it getting away.

The three gathered around their catch with wide eyes, watching as its fighting slowed and it no longer flopped. Excited exclamations came from each of the boys.

"Wow! It's humongous!"

"I never seen a fish that big!"

"What sorta fish gets that big?"

Trev suddenly began hopping up and down. "I know! I know!" He cried eagerly, pleased that he knew what it was, despite being the youngest of the trio. "It's a whale!" he declared excitedly. "My dad's caught lots of whales before." Trev declared proudly.

"What's a whale?" Nal wondered, looking at his friend with curiosity.

"I asked him that too! He said it's a huuuuuuuuuuge fish, bigger than any I've ever seen." Trev pointed down at the fish they had just caught, grinning proudly. "I never seen one that huge before. So, it must be a whale!"

"Great! Let's go show him!" Ryn suggested, eager to show off that they had managed to catch something so big and seemingly rare.

"How do we carry it?" Trev wondered. He tried to pick it up but found it just slipped out of his hands, and it was also quite heavy.

In the end, they dragged the giant fish along after them, with the fishing string wrapped around a sturdy stick so that it didn't dig into their hands. Two of them held an end of the stick, while the third held the middle part, each applying their limited strength toward dragging the 'whale' along with them.

"Daddy!" Trev yelled as soon as he came within sight of his father, still sitting where they'd left him before they set off to try their luck downstream, as he had suggested. "Daddy look! We caught a whale!" He was so excited he couldn't even wait until they got any nearer.

"A whale." Dev scoffed, rolling his eyes at their ridiculousness. Then he looked toward them and did a double take as he saw what they were dragging, and glanced at his own small pile of catches, none of which exceeded the size of his hand. Tossing his pole down, he leaped up and hurried over to inspect what they had brought over. "What the... how..!" He stared at the large fish and then at the three boys incredulously. "How did you catch that?"

"You were right, sir!" Ryn told him with a grin. "It was a good idea to try our luck down that way."

"Yeah, he must've been hungry, 'cause he went for the bait right away." Nal spoke up.

"It was a fierce battle though!" Ryn added.

"We nearly got drowned a few times!"

Dev looked at them again in amazement. "Where were you fishing?"

"Over there!" Trev pointed downstream where they had come from. "I'll show you!" He said, preparing to run off to show him.

"Nevermind," Dev stopped him. "I just... wow." He looked down at the fish again.

"I can't believe we caught a whale, Daddy!" Trev was so excited he couldn't stop jumping up and down.

"It's not a whale," Dev corrected him, rolling his eyes. He lifted the stick so that the fish was raised up so he could see it better. "But it is a big catfish."

"Catfish?" Trev repeated, puzzled.

"No way that's any sort of cat." Nal argued, not about to let himself fall for any sort of grown-up's tricks.

"Yeah, I know what cats look like." Ryn agreed, folding his arms defiantly. "My sister's got one, and it don't look nothing like that."

Dev turned his eyes upward and let out a little sigh, though whether it was from exasperation or impatience, it was hard to tell. "Right..." He paused let the fish rest on the ground again. "Well, why don't you three go back and try and see if you can catch another one?" He suggested, with a patronizing sort of tone. "I'm sure if you wait long enough, you're sure to catch one even bigger..."

"Really?" Trev's eyes widened. "That'd be great!" Trev tried to imagine if it was possible for any fish to get bigger than that one.

"Maybe we could even catch three of them!" Ryn suggested. "One for each of us to bring home!"

"Yeah, come on!" Trev took off running back to where he'd left his fishing pole, quickly followed by his two best friends. Although they didn't catch any other fish that day, they had lots of fun and were not the least bit disappointed by the end of it.



"So," Trev cleared his throat as returned to the present, though he couldn't help smiling slightly as he recalled how he had insisted on dividing up the giant fish between all three of their families, since all three of them had worked together to catch it. "What do I do?" He motioned to the fishing gear Dev had brought on deck. "I mean, I assume there's more stuff to know about deep water fishing, than what I'm familiar with..."

"Well, yes. Obviously. First of all, what type of fish would you most like to try and catch? Because that makes a difference." Dev leaned on the railing, waiting.

Trev hardly had to think at all. "Swordfish!" He grinned. "I've always wanted to know what those actually look like." He added, amused as he recalled the time he and Nal had tried to sketch what they thought they looked like, and how Ryn jumped in to add his own details to the 'sword' part of it.

Dev smirked faintly, recalling some of the stupid questions that had come from the small child after hearing some of his fishing tales. "Yes... I remember you asking if that's where swords come from, and if we cut the swords off their noses, or some nonsense like that."

Trev shrugged, not really sure why that would be such a nonsensical question for a kid as young as he'd been. But he didn't comment, trying his best to be positive. Today was going to be fun. He was determined he was going to have fun and not let anything ruin it.

"Alright. So, if you want to catch a swordfish, we'll need to use a method called Deep Dropping." He paused. "Please, tell me I don't need to explain that."

"No," Trev answered slowly. "I mean, I guess it means.. dropping bait down.. really deep?"

"Right." Dev managed a smile. "You’ll use this technique in waters at least 300 feet deep, where the Swordfish tend to be. You might also encounter Snappers and Groupers, but let's hope for a swordfish lurking around down there. I have caught them in this area before, during this time of year, so the chances are good." He did not bother mentioning to his son that certain varieties of fish were not exactly legal to fish for during certain times of year, or that there were even some types of fish that were not legal to catch at all. Small details like that made little difference to him, and he figured Trev would only protest them doing something that might be construed as illegal.

He explained the best options for bait, making his own suggestions on what he'd found to be successful for catching a swordfish in the past, and then showed Trev how to cast the line and make sure that it would go deep enough. Once their lines were cast out, it was time to wait and see whether they were going to be lucky...


(All parts containing Nal's character were plotted in advance with @Ercassie )

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

---

ALERT, to whom it may concern.
Possible sighting of Corsair vessels, beyond the Andrast. Motives unknown.
Danger may be imminent. Request aid and investigation at the earliest possible convenience.
- Ras Morthil Coast Guard

---

The message reached the harbour and port at Dol Amroth, which from there was soon doled out among the various naval commanders who served under the Prince. Ultimately, it was assigned to the warship Bregolalph, scion of the House of Dimaethor, and soon dispatched to investigate the sighting of possible Corsair activity, somewhere between the Cape of Andrast, called Ras Morthil, and the mouths of the Isen. Commanded by the heir of the House of Dimaethor, Abrazimir, a recently made Swan-Knight eager to prove himself, the ship set out with all haste westwards along the coasts of Gondor, beyond Anfalas, and to the last of the seaward outposts of Gondor, before rounding the cape and heading up northwards along the unpopulated westward shores of Middle-Earth.

Well, unpopulated as far as they understood it. For it was said that the Drúedain still lived in those parts, on the westward slopes of the Andrast mountains, which swung south and west from the Ered Nimrais range which ran east-west in the north of Gondor. But it had been a long time since any of Gondor saw any of that ancient folk, in either the woods or the mountains. There had never been much love or contact between the two races anyways. And few even knew or believed that elves dwelt further north along this western shoreline of Middle-Earth, but that was beyond the mandate of Abrazimir to investigate.

The Bregolalph was a warship of ancient design. It had a complement of one hundred and twenty rowers and sailors, along with a contingent of thirty marines and engineers, trained in both sword and bow, for a total crew of one hundred and fifty. Two large masts stood from the center of the deck, the first bearing the White Swan of Dol Amroth upon a blue background, the second being the White Tree of Gondor, in silver hue, upon a white background. Both the prow and the stern were raised up in elevated platforms, which contained a rotating platform turned by gears, an example of the height and skill of Gondorian engineering. On both platforms sat ship-borne trebuchets for the firing of burning projectiles. Furthermore, tall barricades ran on both sides of the ship, where the marines could hang their shields and archers could safely crouch behind, in the event of the exchange of missiles and other projectiles.

Five millennia of Númenóreans naval traditions accumulated in this vessel. And it was a great honour and dignity to command one. But so what? The Corsairs could have similar outfitting for their larger ships, and their smaller, raiding vessels were generally faster and more agile. Gondorian ships were castles upon the seas, laborious, and slow. But they packed a heavy punch, if they could ever close in with their foes. The main strength was in scaring off the raiders, rather than actual engaging them in close quarters combat. And even then, taking a proactive stance against the harassment by Corsair ships was all but impossible in this day and age. They would be lucky to even react in a timely fashion to the news or rumour of an attack.

Maybe it won’t be like that forever…

It seemed like that would be the case however, as the rounded the Cape and headed northwards along the shoreline. Abrazimir and his men had watched as they passed empty lands, forested or not, from the Andrast all the way to the mouths of the Isen and beyond. There was a growing doubt that their enemy had already come and gone before they could be engaged, as was often the case with Corsair raiding. But they stood to risk a lot by not investigating every possible appearance or presence of their enemy. They could not be allowed to operate with impunity. And what could they be doing this far north anyways? There was a precedence in the long histories of Gondor for Corsairs sailing this far north and trying to flank both Gondor and Rohan. During the Long Winter some centuries before, Corsairs had sailed up to the Isen and aided the Dunlendings in an assault upon Rohan. Could they be attempting another such union of arms and alliance against the two Kingdoms?

It was apart of Abrazimir’s mandate to find out what. And yet, after days and days of sailing, they saw not a single ship, either Corsair or Gondorian.

Uichanar, the aged squire of Abrazimir, clambered up the steps to the forecastle upon the prow and approached the Captain, coming to attention and saluting. It was about the noon hour and time for the daily report, which had been the same for the past several days. ”Sir? No sighting of the enemy as of yet.” He reported, before coming closer and standing next to the young Lord. ”How long do you want to continue the search.”

Abrazimir continued to look out over the endless waves, at least westwards, rather than eastwards towards the lands that held so much life and possibility. He always seemed to look westwards. What was even out there for him? Legends and myths, the old sailors said. Never really seen, always reported or told by someone else, who heard it from someone else, who heard it from someone else, the tale never truly confirmed because the original source was always…someone else. Maybe none of it was real. None of the stories. No continent of elves and gods. No sunken, lost homeland. No deities rising out of the waves to tower over the mountains of the land. No mermaid angels saving sailors from wrecks and storms…

And yet…apart of him hoped. But what made him so special as to be the first to behold such things? He looked down at the water, so unfathomably deep and dark. Dark. Where no sunlight came or went. That would most likely be a fate of his, sunk to the bottom of the ocean, like so many of his predecessors, some more famous or high blooded than he. He shrugged. ”The mouths of the Gwathló, where the old habour used to be. At least we can look upon it and see our ancient histories. And maybe this entire voyage may not be in vain, to some…little degree.” Abrazimir commented back, looking up to the sky and shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. By the Valar, it was hot. And he was fully armoured, day after day.

Another sailor soon approached, carrying a sack of oranges. A weekly ration, to help stave off scurvy. Abrazimir and Uichanar accepted theirs with thanks. Abrazimir put his hand under his shoulder, tucking his hand free of his gauntlet, so that he might begin peeling the fruit with his fingertips. ”I always enjoy these.” He said with a little smile.

”Hugely expensive.” Uichanar stated. ”Where do they even grow these? How do they even grow these?”

I’m not sure. I think they grow on trees.” Abrazimir mused. He had never seen oranges growing before. They had always been imported from somewhere.

”Really? They have the same hue as those…pumpkins, are they called? And those grow in the ground.” Uichanar said, looking puzzled.

”I think you need a warmer climate for oranges.” Abrazimir pointed out, tossing the peels overboard and consuming a slice. The juices were refreshing and delicious. After consuming sailor’s porridge for days, anything would taste amazing. ”Up here though, it grows quite cold, and more sooner in the year before the onset of winter.” Abrazimir said, again peering westward over the sea. Wait…what was that?

”And while we’re here, what of our homes? Our families? Many have spoken that this entire sighting could have been a diversion.” Uirchanar stated, expressing a little discontent, as happened often due to a lack of activity. Exciting activity. Abrazimir chose not to answer. He didn’t want to give either false or truthful response to that sort of query. He didn’t know which answer would soothe or provoke them more. Some time passed and they continued sailing, the shoreline distant to the east, and the endless ocean to the west. And yet…no, his eyes weren’t deceiving him. There was something out there.

”Ask and ye shall receive.” Abrazimir said softly. ”What’s that?” He inquired and pointing in a direction north and west.

Uichanar strained his eyes and leaned over the ship’s railing. ”I can’t see a thing…”

”Spear!’ Abrazimir shouted towards the deck and soon enough a marine came up running, carrying a long lance. Abrazimir took it and balanced the middle of the shaft on the railing. Going to the butt-end, he crouched and peered along it’s length, spearhead horizontal, pointing it towards the distant smudge on the blue horizon. There was something there.

”There.” He said and moved aside, holding the spear firmly in place, so that Uichanar could crouch and peer along it’s length to where Abrazimir had been looking and pointing.

”What is that, a cloud?” Said the old squire. His eyesight wasn’t as good as it used to be.

”A ship. See how it holds against the wind?” Abrazimir pointed out. ”It’s holding position. Doing…what, exactly?” He frowned, while Uichanar continued to strain his eyes along the spear shaft. But even Abrazimir was having doubts. Was he hallucinating? ”Who has the best eyesight?”

”Someone young. I know who.” He said and roared for a younger sailor, who bounded up quickly. They made him look and he all but confirmed…it was a ship.

All went chaotic after that. Uichanar went to ring a bell, calling all to general quarters, while Abrazimir called out in full parade ground volume. ”Contact, contact! Vessel sighed, north by northwest. All marines, stand to! Oarsmen, at the double!” He hurriedly issued his commands. Men scrambled to grab both their gear and weapons, while the drumbeat beneath the decks which kept the oarsmen in rhythm began to double. Engineers, four apiece at the bow and stern, stood to by their machinery, cranking the trebuchet counter-weight into position. The masts were out in full deployment and the Bregolalph…was sailing to battle. At last.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Devedir and Trevadir Thôrmaetha (age 15)
On board the ship using the name 'Wingôlost'
Northern side of the Cape of Andrast

It was amazing to think of how deep their fishing lines could go. Trev tried to picture 300 feet, and realized it was about the equivalent of three city levels. Wow! He wondered what it would be like underwater, that deep, and then tried to push the thought out of his mind. With any luck, he'd never find that out. Because if he was ever that deep, it would probably mean he'd drowned and was never coming back up. He stared down at the water, eagerly waiting for something to happen. "How hard is it to reel them in, anyway?" He wondered, glancing up at his father.

Dev smiled and leaned against the railing, tending to his own line. "They put up quite a fight," he assured his son. "It can be dangerous, but it wouldn't be very exciting, otherwise. Would it?" He shrugged.

Trev grinned. "Right." he looked back down at the water, hoping for a bite.

Hurried footsteps on the deck drew both of their attention back up. As both watched, one of the crew ran up to Dev. "Lookout just spotted a ship, captain! That way," He pointed south-ish.

"What kind of ship?" Dev asked, trying not to roll his eyes at the lack of information provided.

"Dunno yet, it's big though."

"Big?" Dev frowned at the man, then sighed. "Hold this, Trev." He passed his line over to the teenager, hoping it wasn't a mistake.

Trev was a bit confused why it was such a big deal if there was a ship. They were on the ocean, for Valar's sake. It wasn't like they were the only ones to sail, right? But he took the fishing line without argument. Now holding a line in each hand, he watched Dev go off toward the starboard deck, to deal with this apparently urgent matter. He sighed and remained where he was on the port side, still hoping for a swordfish.

After hearing the lookout's description, Dev frowned. "Gondorian Warship," He muttered, more as a hunch than fact, as he could not yet see the vessel well enough. But it could only be from Gondor, right? He glanced up to see whether they had the Gondorian flag flying. They did not. No flags at all were being displayed at the moment. He held back a grumble at this oversight and turned instead to the crewman who had told him about the ship. "Where's the Gondorian flag? Why isn't it flying?"

"Uh.." The man had no answer for why. "I'll get right on that captain!" He hurried off to do that. And then, just in case that wasn't enough to deter them from harassment, he hastily issued some orders to the remaining crew who were on duty, preparing the ship for hasty retreat, just in case.

A moment later, the flag was being raised up to the top of the swan ship's mast, in hopes of deceiving their foes into thinking they were allies. Staring southward, Dev rested his hands on the railing and leaned his weight on them, watching the opposing ship as it gradually drew nearer. He hoped they had gotten the flag up before the other ship had a chance to see that there was no flag before. The war ship was heading straight toward them, by the looks of it. He was hoping they would see that it was a swan ship, and see the Gondorian flag, and decide that they were not an enemy. Of course, that meant they would have to get close enough to see the flag, and the design of the ship.

So, he waited, fighting the anxiety building up inside him. But he would not wait long. If they got within range to fire those trebuchet shots, without showing indication of stopping, Dev would most definitely flee with all speed before risking any damage to his ship, and especially, himself. Oh, and the crew. He had to think about them, too.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

The deck rumbled with the drumbeat as the rigorous pace was set for the oarsmen. They could be heard grunting in unison and force as they dipped their long oars in and out of the water in rolling form, adding their efforts to the wind-swept sails that bound them forward to their target. Eventually, the eyes of the common sailors would be able to see what the eyes of those with dunedain blood had beheld; a ship on the horizon. It was soon confirmed by a scout in the raven’s nest above, pointing and calling out an estimation in nautical miles, decreasing as they drew near.

Abrazimir watched with Uichanar, his squire and second, along with the chief engineer, Calenaur. ”Any sight on their sails yet?” Abrazimir inquired of the two men, who strained their eyes to make out whatever details they could on the distant vessel.

”They’re deploying one now. White, I think?” Uichanar guessed, which implied it was a friendly Gondorian vessel, as the servants of the Enemy never bore white tokens, whether on shield or mast. The Corsairs preferred black and scarlet. ”They must have been anchored before. Fishers or whalers, possibly.” But out this far, that was desperate. Gondor shores could be pirate infested at times, so sometimes local fishers had to sail out a distance in order to ply their trade more peacefully and securely. But this far out was desperate. Too desperate.

”But that’s strange,” Abrazimir mused, voicing his thoughts aloud now, ”why the haste to deploy it upon sighting us? If they were friendly, they would maintain position and hail us as we neared. Nothing to fear.” He thought, thinking back to the other interdictions he had done. Upon encountering a friendly vessel at distance, there was a series of signals or codes that could be given.

”If they were pirates, wouldn’t they just up and start fleeing?” Uichanar countered to that.

”Let’s hail them with the Signal Lantern.” Abrazimir suggested. A friendly vessel would have the same codebook and would prove they were who they claimed to be. Then Abrazimir could simply continue his patrol without a chase and boarding. A sailor brought a heavy lantern up, which might seem unnecessary given the time of day, but the inner light was coupled with a small crystalline sheet that could be raised up and down over one side of the blocky lantern. Even in daylight, this caused the inner flame to shine up like a small star. And by lifting and lowering the crystalline sheet, one could transmit a series of codes and patterns to communicate, in a simplistic fashion, with ships at a distance.

The lanterns and the crystalline flap were specially made in Dol Amroth, at the expense of the Prince, being his navy’s form of long distance communication whether in daylight, night, or even heavy fogs, preventing the need for two vessels to draw in close to allow their commanders to communicate and interact. And the codes were changed every five years, distributed to each of the captains that served in the naval arm of Dol Amroth. Abrazimir had his copy. Certain merchants would have a basic kind. And it would be utterly disaterous if one of these updated signal books came into the hands of the enemies…

There was a series of flashes and pauses to indicate one letter in the Gondorian script. The Signaller brought the lantern to the very prowl of the ship and began to flash, raising the crystalline sheet up and down over the lantern fire to amplify it’s shine, visible to the other ship. The message he coded was simple.

Hail…vessel…Hold…position…inspection…

And if they were indeed friendly, they would confirm back that they would hold and allow the Bregolalph to close in and inspect them. No problem at all. Ensure they were who they said they were and move on. No harm or trouble, right? He could ask for any sighting of Corsair vessels, too. Any Gondorian merchant would be interested in reporting that to the authorities, which Abrazimir was in this case. But if they refused, if they did not answer back with an appropriate code, or began to turn tail…then Abrazimir’s choices would become very simple indeed.

”Well, they’re sailing south, towards us,” Uichanar confirmed.

”Any deviation, I will consider to be a hostile act.” Abrazimir muttered, trying to remain calm as the two wooden castles float on the sea approached one another, either a promise of friendship and routine, or something worse.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

December, 3017
Captain Dev, Jay (first mate) and Trevadir (age 15)
On board the ship using the name 'Wingôlost'
Northern side of the Cape of Andrast

A light began to flash from the prow of the other ship. Dev frowned as he watched the series of flashes, eyes narrowing. He knew what that was. They were sending a message by those signals. He paid close attention as the message began to unfold. It made sense, but was it the current code, or had they updated it? "Jay!" He called. When the first mate ran to his side, he asked, "How long ago did we come across those code books?"

"Not long ago. Beginning of the year, I believe. It was when we raided that merchant ship, transporting all the silk and other fabrics, remember?" Jay answered. "According to the informant, the codes should be good for a few years yet." He added, anticipating the reason for Dev asking.

The captain nodded slowly while watching the flashes. A frown grew on his face before muttering a curse under his breath. "They're coming in. They want to do an inspection," He glanced at Jay with a seemingly calm gaze, hiding his own alarm at this thought.

The scar-faced man's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the apparently calm face of his captain. "As in.. they plan to board the 'Wing?"

"Yes." Dev frowned and looked toward the warship again. "Should we try a bluff?" He asked softly, thinking swiftly.

"What sort of bluff?" Jay wondered, frowning. "They outnumber us quite a bit..." He reminded the captain.

"Would they have reason to think this ship knows their codes?" Dev wondered. The merchant ship's captain had explained the code book, and that all of the naval captains got one, and that certain merchants got a basic copy. But this ship was not a merchant ship, and was not a large warship like the one approaching them. It was a smaller vessel, swift and light, and while it certainly had weapons on board, it was not really designed for warfare. He guessed that the lord who had originally owned it most likely had it for pleasure sailing, perhaps for general travel along the coast, or some such thing. Would a fishing vessel have a copy of those code books?

"What, think you might pretend not to understand their intentions? How would it help though?" Jay wondered. There were universal signals of sound which all ships used, one of which was to signal that the other ship's intentions were unclear, and to warn that there may be danger. But what good would that do, he wondered?

Dev looked back at the other ship as it drew a little bit closer by the minute. He had to make up his mind swiftly. His gaze flicked upward as his falcon let out a shrill cry as she swooped overhead. She spoke in words only Dev could understand, unless his son had also inherited that ability. She had far better sight than any of the men down below, and though she did not know the words that men used for things, she could be quite helpful in times like this. Dev hastily called for the lookout and snatched the spyglass from him, searching for the banner that Ningaear had told him was there. Blue on the bottom, white on the top. A bright sun split the middle, and a ship pictured above the sun in the white part. He knew that banner, having grown up across the river from it. "Dimaethor!" He muttered in frustration.

He spun away from the oncoming ship, swiftly considering this. No, Jay was right, it would do little good, as the warship would persist in their inspection. And they would definitely recognize Dev. Lord Dimaethor had taken quite a personal disliking to Dev after his repeated attempts at talking to his daughter, though that was all in the past. He didn't care about the snobby girl anymore, wherever she may be. But the guy wouldn't have forgotten Dev, he was sure of that.

For a brief second, he considered the idea that he, and Jay, and anyone else who was likely to have made an appearance on wanted posters, might hide down in the hold where he had a few secret compartments, for the purpose of smuggling goods (or captives). But then he thought better of that idea. For one, if they boarded the ship, they might search and find those compartments, however cleverly they were hidden. Also, the kid might cause problems. Which reminded him... letting out a sigh, he looked at Jay again. They could not let themselves be boarded, nor even let the other ship get close enough to try. However, he could still use the sound signals as a way to make the other ship believe they were only fleeing because they did not know what the other ship's intention was...

"We better get out of here." He decided after a few seconds had passed. "Get us moving quick as you can." He ordered. Thankfully, he had already warned the crew to prepare for flight. "I've got to deal with that kid first, I'll join you in a moment." With that, he ran back to the other side of the ship, where Trevadir was still holding onto both fishing lines, oblivious to the danger approaching on the other side. "Pull those fishing lines up, right away." He ordered urgently.

Trev glanced up in confusion. "Huh?"

"Pull them up! Now!" Dev hurried over and began pulling up the line that was his before he'd passed it to his son. "We've got to get moving and you can't have a line that long trailing behind, it'll get caught, or some fish might go for it, and we have no time for that now. Hurry. I have a job for you, too."

"What's going on?" Trev wondered with a frown, as he hurriedly began pulling up his own line, though he was still confused. "What job?"

"Just get those lines out of the water, alright? Do as I say, and now." Dev ordered. "Otherwise, we may all die." Having managed to get his line out of the water, he tossed it, line, bait, sinker and all, onto the deck. "Come on, I need you to do something."

Beside him, Trev hurriedly worked to pull all of his line out of the water. What in the world was going on? He noticed the ship was turning about, pivoting in place. He tossed his stuff down beside Dev's, and then hurried along with him toward the back part of the ship, curious to find out what was going on. As they arrived, Trev's eyes widened as he saw the big ship coming toward them. Several of the crew were hurrying around doing various tasks. Some worked on getting the sails unfurled, others doing this or that.

"You got that flute handy?" Dev asked as they neared the railing.

"Yeah..." Trev answered, a little hesitant, unsure what his flute might have to do with anything, and waited to hear what Dev wanted him to do.

"I need you to use it. You may save us all, so make sure you get this right." Dev pointed to the approaching ship. "They've flashed some signal at us, but we don't know what they want. It's some sort of code that we don't know." He explained swiftly. "I need you to signal to them audibly, to let them know that we don't understand their intentions." He then told Trev the exact signal to use. "Got that?"

Trev nodded, hastily pulling out his flute now that he knew the reason. "Yeah, I got it." he promised. As Dev hurried off to do other things, Trev grabbed his flute, taking a moment to unsheathe the slim dagger housed inside, which he slid into his belt, then raised the flute to his lips. He had never actually attempted to do shrill, non-music notes at a loud volume before, but the flute was well-made, and the notes were loud and clear. Nervous, the teenager watched the approaching ship and thought that it could probably crush them in the water if it got close enough. It was much bigger than theirs and he wasn't sure what to expect.

Meanwhile, under Dev's command, the "Wingolost" had turned to point north by northwest, preparing to flee. The sails were let out to full capacity, and the anchor drawn up. Dev had no intention of waiting to let the great War ship overtake them, and the task given to Trevadir was only really meant to cast some uncertainty and doubt in Dimaethor's mind, although he wasn't sure if it would work. He hoped so, but either way, he was getting out of here!

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

Oars raised and dipped into the sea, leaving white foams in their wake. The drummers beat and sailors and marines took up their positions along the sides of the vessel, bows and javelins in hand. Engineers cranked the firing mechanism of the bow trebuchet into place and a covered jar, about man-high, and wide as a column base, was loading into the nesh. Another engineer stood nearby, with a torch in a brazier, ready to ignite the top of the pitch-filled jar, before it would be flung in an arc towards the opposing vessel. If they chose not to comply.

And it was very much looking like they would be noncompliant.

”What’s that?” Uichanar inquired, turning his head sideways towards the opposite vessel, steadily growing larger in the horizon as they neared. It sounded like a chorus of notes being blown on a horn. In lieu of light signals, there was the more vague and less complex form of audio signalling. There wasn’t much that could be conveyed with audio signalling, unlike light signals, in which the entire lexicon could be conveyed through a series of flashes and pauses. The men in the leading section of the ship strained their ears to listen.

”Sounds like a misunderstanding call.” Calenaur reported. ”They might not have a Signaller on board. Or perhaps they fell ill or is otherwise indisposed.” He guessed at the other ship’s actions. Best to give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe, as they did seem to be another Gondorian vessel. But if that was the case, then why…

”Then why are they turning away from us?” Uichanar argued with the Chief Engineer. ”Look, their broadside is visible to us. They are turning.” He pointed to them.

”Signal them again. Light and Sound.” Abrazimir ordered in a hurry. ”Tell them to anchor and cease all movements. We will confirm their identity. They have nothing to fear from us. We should be on the same team.” He mused aloud once the order was given. Their Signaller once more proceeded to utilize the Lantern to signal the other vessel, a series of flashes and pauses. H…o…l…d…p…o…s…i…t…i…o…n… And another sailor, lifting his own horn to his lips, blew out a series of notes to relay the same command. Hold! If they did not comply.

”We’re almost in range with the forward battery, my Lord.” Calenaur also reported, measuring up the nautical distance between their bow and the opposing vessel’s flank.

”Prepare to ignite,” Abrazimir said to the engineer nearest the brazier, who drew out a torch already lit and ready to set fire to the wicker top of the pitch-jar, ready and loaded to be flung. ”Archers, stand to. We can only assume an intention not to meet with us is a desire to flee or run. Probably because of contraband or because…” he trialed of. Because they are a Corsair pirate ship, in disguise, preying on trade and refugees. And that, Abrazimir would not abide.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

December, 3017
Captain Dev and Trevadir (age 15)
On board the ship using the name 'Wingôlost'
Northern side of the Cape of Andrast

Having sounded his signal, Trevadir lowered his flute and watched the other ship anxiously. What were they doing? He leaned his hands on the railing and stared intently at the fast-approaching war ship, and tried to see what was happening. He could see the sun glinting off of the armor on one of the men there in the prow, but couldn't see much else. What he did see, moments later, was the flashing lights again. He blinked, frowning as some message came, but it was too fast for him to even try to remember the sequences. And too fast for him to have pulled out his notebook and wrote it down.

The sound however.. he could remember that. It was short and simple. After a brief hesitation, he ran to the helm. "What's that mean?" He asked, a little breathless. "They replied back with more light signals and that sound one, did you hear it?" Just in case, he described the brief sound pattern to his dad.

"I heard it." Dev retorted, while he was trying to aid a couple of crewmen in hauling the anchor up. It had posed a problem, as it had apparently gotten snagged on something deep underwater. He thought swiftly of what to tell the boy. "They're telling us to leave quickly, or they'll start firing. So, please do something to help, if you don't want to end up dying."

"What can I do?" Trev asked, trying not to panic, wondering whether he might need to help tug on the anchor line.

Dev took a second to think. "For now, just go back there and keep an eye on them. Find out whatever you can, then come back and tell me anything you can." He decided, figuring it might be the best use for the boy, for now. "Here, take this." He offered the spyglass to his son. "And DON'T lose it!"

"Yes sir, captain!" Trev agreed, then hastened back to the aft of the ship. Holding the spyglass to his eye, he stared intently back at the other ship. They were getting closer by the moment. So close, he would soon be able to make out faces without the aid of the spyglass, but of course, it was easier to see things with it. And then, to his surprise, he noticed the banner on the prow, and he recognized it. Lowering the glass in surprise, he blinked at the opposing ship, remembering the summer trips he used to take to his grandparent's house in the village in Lond Col. Just across the river lay the Dimaethor estate, and while he wasn't personally well acquainted with any of them, he knew their banner, and he knew what they looked like well enough, despite being more familiar with the Azrubels. He brought the spyglass back to his eye and sought out the man in the armor that he had spotted earlier.

With his eye aided by the device, he was able to recognize the man, fully suited in what appeared to be Swan Knight gear. But it was not Lord Dimaethor... it was his son, if Trev wasn't mistaken. It had been a year since he had been to Lond Col to visit his grandfather, but he felt pretty sure about it. He saw the young lord Dimaethor sometimes when he was there, for one reason or another.

Trev frowned, and his gaze turned toward the other activity on the ship. They were loading something into the trebuchet! Alarmed, he stared across the water in slight confusion, as well as disappointment. Why were the Dimaethors coming to attack them, without cause? Seeing a torch held ready in the hand of a nearby sailor, he had a bad feeling about this. He stepped away from the rail as he lowered the spyglass, and just as he was turning, he stumbled as the Wingolost leaped suddenly forward. The sailors had loosed the last of the ropes binding the sails, the anchor was stowed away now, and the stiff breeze had filled the unfurled sails swiftly. Trev fell against the railing he had just left, and nearly dropped the spyglass. Thankfully, he reacted swiftly and only just managed to catch it before it fell into the water.

Pushing himself away from the railing, he ran back to the helm to find his father. Having accomplished pulling the anchor up, Dev had returned to the helm, to steer them away from their enemies. Their ship took full advantage of the wind that happened to be conveniently blowing the way they wanted it to be. "Da-Dev," Trevadir corrected swiftly. "They're loading the trebuchet with someting, and I saw someone standing nearby with a torch. I think they're gonna shoot flaming stuff at us!" He said, dark eyes wide, finding it all very frightening. "What do we do?"

"We keep out of range," Dev answered levelly. "Did you see anything else of use?"

"It's.." He hesitated. "It's Abrazimir Dimaethor. He's in Swan Knight gear. Why are they threatening to attack us? We're not doing anything wrong, are we?" He asked, confused. "We were just sitting there, fishing." He said, confused. He knew, of course, that Dev and his crew had done plenty of criminal things, but not at this moment. How could Abrazimir know that they were.. them? Trev found this confusing, and he didn't understand why they were just attacking for no apparent reason.

"They're attacking because that's what they do." Dev scowled. "Abrazimir though? Hmm." That was news to him. "So, it isn't the old guy?"

"I didn't see him," Trev answered, frowning. "That makes no sense though. They're just attacking a random ship? For no reason? A Gondorian ship?" He found that really hard to believe, but then, he really didn't know the man very well.

"He's not such a nice person as he would have you believe, Trev." Dev responded, rolling his eyes. "You'd be surprised the at the deeds people like that will do, when out of the public eye." He glanced at the boy, wondering just how much he could convince him to despise that noble family. "They'd rather have their adoring fans believe they're so noble and good, when they really aren't. They do things like this all the time, you know. You just don't hear about that." He gave Trev a stern look. "If you want to keep us from being sunk, then go and find Alrek, and tell him to ready our defenses." He ordered, hoping Trev would hasten off to find the ship's master-at-arms. They had a few archers on board, and they could return some fire if it came to it, though they didn't have the same weapon power as the Dimaethor's war ship.

Frowning at his dad, Trev considered what he had said. "Right." He nodded, and turned away from the helm, feeling troubled. He slowed his steps, glancing back toward Dev. He knew where to find Alrek; he had worked a night shift and was taking his sleep now. Not only was he a bit grumpy when woken from his sleep, but Trev did not want to get him involved. That would mean people would be shooting at his countryman. Not only a fellow Gondorian, but a neighbor and ally of his grandfather's employer. And the Azrubels had always been good to them.

Trev sighed, knowing he would get in trouble over this later, but passed up the officer's cabin and instead, hastened to the back of the ship again, so he could keep an eye on what was happening there.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

There was a heavy silence after Abrazimir’s last command, the entire crew and ship in a locked pose as they watched the distant vessel. Would they turn towards them and greet them as friends? Or flee only as guilty pirates and criminals would? Abrazimir was sure there could be no other possibility but these two. No other vessels that plied the seas, except by the servants of the White Tower or the Dark Tower. He had hoped it would not come to this. He still hoped. Far off, by keen sight, it seemed to him that this strange ship was of a make and style of Gondor. Friends, surely. But deep down, having heard rumours, and news, that it likely could be the enemy, who had maliciously taken up stealing and utilizing the very ships of Gondor in surprise raids and assaults upon Abrazimir’s folk.

He might have to sink a proud vessel crafted by the hands of his countrymen. That seemed a grievous loss and shame to him. And burned in his heart a dark vengeance for such treacherous deceit.

Finally, the silence was broken. And while it had only been a few minutes, it felt like an entire hour had passed. The truth was laid out before their eyes and there was no denying it. ”They’ve turned. And they’re making for full speed away from us.” Calenaur reported to his Captain. One choice laid before them now. They had come upon pirates or corsairs who preyed upon shipping and did not expect to counter as Gondorian battleship. That lesson had to be paid in full now.

Abrazimir rested both his hands upon his sword pommel, one over the other. ”Fire away.” He commanded.

”Ignite.” Uichanar ordered in parade-ground volume. The nearby engineer stepped towards the jar of pitch nestled in the sling harness. He touched his torch to the wicker top, which quickly caught flame, and there were mere seconds before the entire jar would be alight. Hopefully by then, it would be in air, whipping towards the enemy.

”Loose!” Came the next command and another engineer with a heavy hammer heaved at the firing pin, knocking it loose and causing the counterweight to fall in a heavy, abrupt motion. The beam rotated, pulled forward by tremendous momentum, guiding the sling in an arc through the air, high up vertically above their heads where the sling hit the release angle, sending it’s projectile with a smoky path through the air.

Several heated seconds would pass as the flaming jar of pitch hurled through the air in a great arc, before sloping down towards the distant ship.

By a dozen feet it missed, smashing into the surface of the water where a jet steam of hot air shot out upwards. The wind had carried the shot off it’s projected angle and surged it to the flank of the Wingolost.

But adjustments were already mentally prepped and in turn to be carried out. Abrazimir never took his eyes off the distant ship. It was so near… But he could see it was smaller. And less armed. And with the wind and oars, it could soon pull ahead and escape. Suddenly, he foresaw his window of action narrowing. They had to take out that ship.

”Don’t just gawk, reload, reload!” Uichanar urged the engineers, who had all stopped to watch their first shot, wasting precious seconds instead of reloading the firing mechanism.

”Adjust for wind resistance. Two degrees.” Abrazimir said first and Calenaur nodded. The trebuchet rested upon a circular platform, which could be turned and locked into a new firing direction. There were rods that could be affixed at each cardinal direction and two men a rod could turn the platform with muscle strength, hearing the gears turn as it was turned each degree, locking in place, before pushed to the next. Twice the gears clicked, before the trebuchet was in the correct position that Abrazimir deemed, with wind resistance factored, would land a direct shot on the escaping vessel. As the distance grew, they would have to add more weight to cause a greater arc to reach further distance as well.

But the men were well trained. The counterweight was reset by strong hands. It took several minutes though and the distance between the heavier warship and the nimbler raider was growing. They would have one more shot after this one. This and the next had to be perfect. A new jar was put into place. The order came down. ”Ignite!” The wicker top was lit with a torch and the engineers stood back, another hauling the heavy hammer.

”Loose!” Abrazimir ordered for a second time. The firing pin was struck and once more, the counterweight fell, the rod was raised, and the sling with it, to it’s apex reach above, reaching the release angle. The flaming jar arced through the air in a smoking line…before it struck the Wingolost. Ineffectually. The jar smashed into the flank of the rear, smashing a section of railing, but breaking apart mostly on the ship’s outer hull, with few sparks upon the deck. Any fire was small, though intensely hot, and could easily be contained, especially with so much exposed to the crashing waves upon the ship already. Had it struck more directly, the damage would be ruinous.

But the firing angle was known now. Precisely. And the next shot wouldn’t miss. ”Reload!” Barked the order and there was urgency and haste to get it done, because if they didn’t score a direct hit and slow the vessel down, then it would speed away and escape into the horizon over the next few hours and be gone.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

December, 3017
Captain Dev, Trevadir, Weapons-Master Alrek,
and a few other crew
The 'Wingôlost', under attack from the Bregolalph
Northern side of the Cape of Andrast

Trev felt like his heart was in his throat as he watched the missile arcing through the air toward them, leaving behind a trail of smoke. He backed away, swiftly trying to gauge where it was likely to land. And then, to his relief, it splashed into the water, clear of the ship. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and put the spyglass up to watch the other ship, again. They were loading another one. Adjusting the angle. "Go faster.." he muttered, glancing anxiously up at the sails, as if he could will them to somehow make the ship move faster.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that he shouldn't just stand there doing nothing, while they fired stuff at them. If this one hit their ship, they would need to put it out. With that thought in mind, he raced off to gather a few empty buckets. Maybe a few blankets, too. He could get them wet and use them to beat out the flames, right? He hoped that would work.


At the helm, one of the sailors ran up to Dev. "Captain, they're firing at us! Do we shoot back?" Scar asked, puzzled that they'd had no such orders yet.

Dev spun around. "What? We're not already?! Where's Alrek? He ought to have begun return fire by now," He frowned.

"I hadn't seen him around-"

"Well, go get him!" Dev retorted, frustrated that Trev had not done as he was told. "Time to try out that new ballista we took off that other ship recently," he added with a malicious smile, hoping that might slow Dimaethor's attack a bit. He watched Scar run off to find Alrek, and knew that this time the weapon's master would be summoned successfully. "Just wait 'til I get ahold of that boy," He muttered.


Trev burst back onto the aft deck just as the next flaming missile crashed through the railing, right about where he had previously been standing. Startled, he stared in alarm for a few seconds, thinking about how much that might have hurt if he'd been standing there, before snapping out of it. The jar had smashed against the side of the ship, but some of the substance that was in the jar had splattered across the deck. Even with just a few sparks surviving, these quickly leaped up, fueled by whatever had filled the jar, but also the pitch that coated the deck. Ironically, the stuff that sealed the wood and kept it waterproof, was also highly flammable.

Trev leaped forward to the rail and threw a bucket over, holding onto the rope that was attached to the handle. Once it had some water in it, he hauled it up swiftly. As he sloshed the water hastily at the small flames, he saw Alrek approaching, with several men with bows. Inwardly, he groaned, but he was more dismayed when he saw others bringing out the big crossbow thing that they'd recently taken from some ship they'd raided. It had been built by people in Dol Amroth who were good at such things, and had been on its way to Pelargir, he thought, or somewhere like that. He wasn't sure of the details, but now, it was in Dev's possession, and he felt upset to think it would be used against a Gondorian's ship. He wondered if they had been the ones to build it.

Trying not to think too much on such things, he worked hastily to toss his bucket down into the water again and draw up more water. A couple of the men with Alrek saw what he was doing, and hastened over to assist, after realizing that it was vital to put out the fire before it could spread. Soon they had killed the flames... for now. In preparation for more, they began to fill the buckets and soak the blankets. Meanwhile, Alrek was instructing his men to load the ballista.

"Good work getting those flames out." He called. "Now, grab a bow, all of you." Alrek ordered. "If you think you can make a shot, take it. But don't waste your arrows."

Trev looked up, a bit startled. Was he supposed to be included? He opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. So far, he hadn't been called out specifically, and didn't want to call any extra attention to himself. He didn't even know that much about archery, nor did he have a bow or arrows to use. But he frowned as he watched the others hurry to grab their bows, now that the fire was extinguished, but stood back with a bucket of water, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. 'Please, don't shoot that thing..' He thought desperately, hoping something might turn out to be wrong with the machine. Too bad he hadn't thought of doing anything to make sure it wouldn't work, he thought in disappointment. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

Alrek ordered the men to wrap the tip of the bolt in a grease-soaked rag. "We'll return fire at them," he laughed, as they made a few adjustments on the aim. Then, using a torch one of the men had brought, they lit the tip. "And... fire!" Alrek yelled eagerly. One of the men pulled the trigger mechanism at that order, and the projectile sped through the air, aimed toward the other ship. It was a larger target than their own ship, so it was easy enough to guess where it ought to go. Easier than aiming launching the bolts at whales, as he had done before with similar weapons.

Trev flinched and bit his lip as he watched the big arrow arch through the air toward the war ship. The whole way, he silently prayed it would miss, but it swiftly drew closer, and he was sure it was going to hit right them, though he couldn't be sure of where it might strike. Closing his eyes at that point, he looked away, feeling regretful that he hadn't thought to disable this device before it could be used against his own countrymen. And he hoped that no one would be hurt on either end of this battle, but somehow he felt as if it was inevitable.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

”Incoming!” The scout in the crow’s nest above the ship’s masts shouted out. ”Enemy fire, incoming!”

”Take cover! Shields up!” Abrazimir repeated the call, though he was only catching glimpse of the projectile launched from the enemy ship. Now there was no doubt in his mind as to the identity of the ship. The stolen ship. Corsairs. Pirates. Smugglers. The enemy. No matter what their motivation or mission was, they had to be stopped. They had to be taught one could not commit such criminal deeds near Gondor. He would teach them that lesson. With sword and fire. Like lightning from a cloudless sky, the enemy projectile came streaking through the air, a smoke trail visible beside it. Everyone about Abrazimir at the bow of the ship moved to cover behind the railing barricades. Except Abrazimir. He glared at the oncoming projectile, like he was mentally daring it to try and strike him.

It struck his vessel midways up the forward prow. Almost a perfect shot, a few feet from striking at the sealine of the Bregolalph, which would have caused it to start taking on water belowdecks. It thudded into the ship’s hull, but as they splashed through the water in pursuit of their enemy, water and foam thrown up quickly doused the flames. Steam from the parched flames momentarily veiled their vision of the fleeing vessel.

Uichanar cursed under his breath, a most foul expletive.

”Trebuchet ready, my lord!” One of the engineers shouted, the jar ready to be ignited. This was their last chance. Gazing out at the feeling vessel, they were speeding up tremendously so, almost beyond all expectations. Of course they ought to be. Their vessel was smaller and nimbler. The Bregolalph had almost reached them when they were anchored, but as they turned to flee, they were fast reaching their top speed, now stretching out that distance. Couple hours they would soon leave the Bregolalph a distant speck on the horizon behind them. Abrazimir couldn’t let that happen. He needed this next shot to be a direct hit. Burn a mast. Break it even. And then their ship would slow and become dead in the water, allowing the Gondorians to catch up. And board. And then it would be a bloody day.

Another twist of fate, really. If he struck the ship too well, he could cause it to be set alight and sink. While that may seem good, Abrazimir understood that Corsairs employed slaves to man their ships sometimes, people of Gondor and other lands taken against their will for such a terrible life chained below decks. What if Abrazimir’s zealous prosecution of this affair led to all their deaths as well?

But…what if he liberated them? Such was his great and secret hope. But war was a miserable affair. And innocents got caught between all the time. He could change that fact no matter than causing the Sun to rise and set in reverse.

He had to do what must be done. He gave an upward nod of his head to his chief engineer, Calenaur, to begin the process for firing another round. Their last round. ”Ignite!” Calenaur ordered and an engineer stepped up to light the wicker top of the jar of pitch with a torch. Soon, the flames danced there, seconds from exploding.

”Loose!” Abrazimir shouted and then watched, with beating heart, as the trebuchet counter weight fell, raising up the firing arm, sending the sling to the release angle, and releasing the burning jar in a steep arc through the air towards the distant ship. And he preyed to Uinen his patron, with a white knuckle grip on his sword hilt, that all would come to a satisfying conclusion

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

December, 3017
Trevadir and Weapons-Master Alrek,
and a few other crew
The 'Wingôlost', under attack from the Bregolalph
Fleeing Northward from Cape of Andrast

As their arrow sped through the air, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake, Trev and Alrek both watched, but with different hopes. Seeing the knight standing in his gleaming armor at the ship's prow, not budging even when the arrow closed in on his ship, the Umbarian weapons master grinned wickedly as he ordered the other pirates to load another bolt into the ballista. "We'll aim for him this time." He declared.

Hearing this, Trev's eyes widened. It was bad enough to shoot fiery arrows at the other ship. But to aim to hit a person?! "You can't do that!" He exclaimed, shocked.

"Oh yeah? Watch me." Alrek narrowed his eyes at him, then he turned and focused his attention on the ballista, to direct the others on how to aim it. "I'll impale him right through that armored chest," He grinned.

"But.." Trev bit his lip, knowing his protests would just be ignored, and glanced toward the crew who were manning the ballista, then at Alrek, and then at the other ship. It was wreathed in steam for a moment, but now, as he watched, another blazing missile arched through the air from it, toward them. He caught his breath, watching in near panic as it looked as if it would hit their mainsail. 'Please, no.. please, let it miss us...' He thought frantically, in a half-prayer to whatever Valar might have any control over such things. He was tempted to close his eyes, but he wanted to watch and see whether they would need to rush and put out the flames.

Seconds later, Trev breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw that it missed by barely an inch. Mentally, he thanked the Valar. The burning jar exploded seconds before it then hit the water, as the fuse reached the combustible stuff inside the jar. While it didn't do any damage to their ship, it was a bit alarming to Trev. Still, it was evident that nothing was damaged so far, except for that portion of railing from the first shot. He wondered how they would fix that, and figured Dev or some of the others probably knew how to fix stuff like that.

Meanwhile, the others were just about ready to light the arrow on the ballista. Trev frowned, worried about this. The ships were rapidly getting further apart, but he was pretty sure they could still hit the other ship with this powerful weapon. And he wasn't sure how well Alrek would be able to aim it, but he didn't want Abrazimir to get hit with it. He didn't want anyone to get hit, and he didn't even like that they were shooting back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he made a mental note to do something with the weapon to make it so they couldn't use it against anyone again, but in the forefront of his mind, he was hastily trying to think how he could stop them from murdering someone with it right now.

"Light it up!" Alrek ordered, looking almost gleeful as he anticipated (hopefully) killing a swan knight in a couple of moments.

"Please, don't do this." Trev tried to plead with him. "We're almost out of range, we don't need to shoot anyone..."

"Shut up and get out of my way." Alrek shoved him away in annoyance.

Trevadir held back a sigh as he stumbled back a few steps. "It'd be murder!" He protested, frustrated that no one would listen to reason, and they just treated him like he was a pest for trying to talk them out of doing criminal things, like murder. They ignored him again, and he knew he'd have to take matters into his own hands, somehow. He frowned, looking at the ballista, trying to decide what he could do to stop this. He edged closer while the others were busy making a few adjustments to get the aim just right.

At the last moment, just as Alrek was giving the order to loose the huge, flaming arrow, Trev swiftly kicked a foot out at the ballista's stand; the part that the back of the weapon rested on. The thing was heavy, and the kick hurt his foot. The ballista didn't move as much as he'd hoped, but it was enough to throw the arrow off it's intended course by an inch or two, he estimated, but whatever the case.. it shouldn't hit the knight. But would it hit the ship? And he couldn't stop them from shooting another one... but maybe, in a minute or so, they wouldn't be close enough for another attempt. That was his hope, anyway.

Before Trev could feel any sense of triumph in his success, he was knocked flat on the deck with a newfound throbbing in his jaw. Blinking through some stars in his vision, he looked up to find Alrek glaring down at him, speaking angrily. Glancing toward the other ship, Trev tried to see where the arrow had ended up hitting, but Alrek stood in his way, letting out a string of curses in the Umbarian's language, that Trev didn't fully understand, though he could guess the general idea what it meant. He was clearly very angry and didn't even use the common speech as he turned to give orders to a couple of the men who'd been standing by, with bows they were too far away to use. They grabbed Trev and dragged him upright, gripping his arms securely.

"Throw him in the brig!" Alrek ordered, finally calmed enough to speak the common tongue, and waved a hand. "Get him out of here. Captain can deal with him later." He sent an angry glare after Trev as the other two pulled him along with them.

As Trev reluctantly went away with them, he heard Alrek grumbling about the arrow missing the knight. He smiled faintly in satisfaction to hear that, but otherwise tried to look at least a little bit contrite as they dragged him away to the brig. He had a feeling he'd have more punishment than just sitting in the cell for a while, but he hoped maybe they would be busy for a while, so it might be delayed. Dev would probably be angry, and he'd probably tell Samroth to punish Trev. But, he could enjoy his triumph in solitude for a while, at least. Once he had been left alone in the cell which was becoming somewhat familiar by now, Trev pulled out his flute and sat down cross-legged with his back against the wall, and he began to play softly in the dark. No particular tune, but one with a melancholy sort of feel to it.

Up top, Alrek had the men load another arrow into the ballista. There wouldn't be another opportunity to try for the knight, as they were too far away now for such precision with their aim, but maybe they could hit a deck or the hull or something, if they were lucky. Such was his hope, anyway. If they acted quickly, he thought they might be able to get one more chance at hitting the ship, if nothing else.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Arkadhur Halsad, aboard the mighty ‘Aearmahalma’
Prisoner, undergoing transportation to Dol Amroth. July.

He knew he must have been asleep because the abrupt dragging heaved him suddenly awake, and also clear across the small enclosure which he’d been assigned to for this trek. Bleary eyes recoiled against the relentless glare of a raised lantern, and the prisoner cursed in a language that the sailors did not need to understand.

“You will respond when we check if you are still of this world,” the lantern-less knight reminded him of the rule, disengaging a hooked polearm from the chain it had snagged. As waking aids went, it had proved effective without requiring their entering the cell. And sight of the weapon moreso invited the prisoner to cease his grumbling aloud. Just in case.

“It wasn’t quite a full half hour since the last check,” the second guard confessed, honestly. And was met by an unconcerned shrug.

“Well we wouldn’t want to be so predictable that he can plan on and around it,” was the counter offer. Both turned to observe the subject of their conversation, who refrained from commenting. And then it was the lantern bearer’s turn to cast off further interest about their timekeeping. The pair returned to their respective posts, assured that they had obliged their duty of care.


Every half an hour, give or take ... It was not as though his keepers enjoyed causing such an inconvenience. But the command had been clear, to keep a careful eye on the Umbarian. The Guards were far more concerned with disobeying their orders than they were with a criminal’s comfort. He was not the only prisoner under their watch, but he was the only one aboard with a history of self harm and alleged gaol breaks. If he did not arrive with means to answer all questions awaiting him in Dol Amroth, then a good many people would be expecting answers instead from those who had failed to keep him able.

With subdued mood, Arkadhur crawled a small distance back from where they’d left him and eyed the wall of his ‘cell’ which was, he’d learnt in the first of many hours, beyond his reach. The floor was his only option to physically lean against, though he was so tired by now he might have slept on it quite soundly all the same. If it were permitted, which clearly it was not. With his wrists in fetters, there were just enough links between them, to allow the man’s hands to curl around the bowls of gruel he received; again at no certain schedule that he could count on.

Feeding seemed to be when the guards could afford the time, rather than at any set hour. But the chain which spanned from the prisoner’s hands, to where it was secured to the floor, meant he had a small span enough to stand up and walk in a circle until it drove him to dizzy. All bars and walls and anything else besides the floor and the chain were beyond his grasp. There was a bucket, hung from a locked hook, on the wall, almost as a challenge. Thus far he had refrained from testing it. He wished he could so easily ward off the want to sleep.


It might seem quite astounding that he was not more offended by the treatment which the guards afforded him. His own people, he knew, would have done far worse to any in their custody. He’d seen it happen. He’d helped them do it. But cruelty even to an enemy was withheld by the Prince’s trusted crew, and the creak and shift of the ship was a thing he was fair enough accustomed to, from all his time at sea. He was quite at home here, with more liberty to move about than the houses of healing had dared provide him. And a less dour forboding atmosphere than the cold stone dungeons of the city they had left behind.

The mundane and unhelpful chatter of the two guards on this level had been flavoured only once, by a string of colourful threats and curses from at least one other prisoner, who the Umbarian could not see but could not help overhearing. The other man’s outcry and claims that they would all be drowned .. had left the unimpressed audience with something of a headache. The guards had threatened to make good use of a horse’s bit to stall the unseen man’s mouth and all fears from the criminal in question had been delivered silently from that point on. Whether the Gondorians would have gone through with their threat or no, Arkadhur knew that his own folk would have hastened to remove the man’s tongue in the same amount of time it took to warn him to be silent.

Either way, the Umbarian was relieved that there were words required from him still when they reached where they were going. They could not take his tongue, even if they wished to. For they were reliant on it for the hope of answers. So tired, assuredly too tired to prove any sort of difficulty for them, Arkadhur resigned his back to lay on the hard floor. His throat still scratched when he swallowed, and his gut acutely protested when he passed water, or worse. But he was alive and seemingly would continue in that state. The guards went about their business and did not trouble him outside what they had been commanded. One had even served him the reminder, that their ‘attention’ was foremost to keep him alive. For how long, once he had served their needs in future interrogation, he did not yet know. But one step at a time.

He had yet to decide how best to bring down his enemy in Belfalas. He'd deflected blame upon the man before of course. But besides the ambition, there was much to be worked out. And there were certain other reasons why he’d requested this transfer, as part of his deal to deliver information. It had been worth the price he’d paid, the pain he’d put himself through to ensure his underlying ambition.


The latest bowl of gruel was placed within his cell at some point; he could not say exactly how much later. The essential offering was then inched by the practiced tip of a polearm to where the prisoner could reach it. The guard’s face was covered, as they had all been for the entire time, by an elaborate helm. No doubt to keep their anonymity, or else some promise of security. The Umbarian was less than daunted by the mystery, hard pressed to forget how Keket had sealed no few armoured Swan knights in their own metal dress before, and left them to starve to death, leashed out along the corridors that he would walk through, revelling in the cries for mercy, the threats of vengeance, until they each came to naught. Arkadhur could barely restrain himself as this still live, well polished and ‘protected’ guard left him to devour the meagre morsel.

He hungered with an eagerness though not for the food.


“I will be back for the bowl,” he was informed. And glanced up, as though it had not been the phrase uttered by the guard each day thus far. This day though the prisoner was ready to make his reply.

“As you say,” he uttered. And smiled to himself thenafter. As the guard gave him a half lingering glance but left, with no cause to explain his sudden feeling of unease.


It had all been worth it after all then. The pain, the peril, all that he had put himself through. Arkadhur was convinced, he had managed to permanently alter his voice. The one thing which had remained as a marker of his true identity. Now he no longer looked nor sounded like the man who had committed such atrocities against the nobles of Dol Amroth. Harder for them to be sure, under sworn testimony. Easier to make them doubt. Doubt themselves, believe him. When he directed their wrath from him unto another. He had managed it once already. And if his foe were theirs, did that not make him their friend ? Calmly, the Umbarian sat on his hard floor and slowly consumed the food that had been given. If he finished the contents and kept himself in check, then they would give him some water to clear his throat afterward. He was not planning on proving any trouble that would stand against him, once he faced the judgement of the Belfalasian court to come. The performance he was still preparing was paramount to his plan.

Of course even the best laid plans have a way of going awry, which he ought to have taken into account, given the very many times altered plan he was still clinging onto like a piece of driftwood, in (proven) unpredictable waters. All that he could do was continue to stack up his advantages without having known all that he was rightly capable of.

And then cater to chance as it presented.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

Breaths were held as their projectile sailed through the air in a great arc, leaving a smoky trail behind that quickly dissipated with the wind. Would it be a hit? They all hoped it would be a direct hit. It was the only path to assured victory. Strike the fleeing vessel amidships, weaken and slow it’s course, allowing the Bregolalph to close in, with further strikes and an eventual boarding. Abrazimir gripped tightly the hilt of his sheathed blade. Too often, they had been barely to do anything to stop the net from closing around Gondor. Word of this victory could restore faith and hope among his people. And he would be responsible for that. For a short time, at least.

He didn’t know the fleeing pirates were preparing for a direct strike on him. He wouldn’t have minded. It was all apart of the rules and method of war. If one could slay the enemy commander, why not? Abrazimir wouldn’t blame them. Nor would he accept blame if he managed to do the same to them. His family might protest at his loss though. And maybe he wasn’t all too keen on being sent to Uinen’s embrace.

”Reload another shot!” Uichanar ordered, though at the increasing distance between the two vessels, it seemed unlikely they would score a hit. The smaller vessel was speedily getting away.

They missed.

Their burning projectile flew inches to the flank of the enemy vessel and arched right into the waters, vanishing with a puff and a final smoke. The range would be too great before the engineers finished resetting the trebuchet but still they did it, pulling back the counterweights and setting another jar in the net. Another engineer stood by, ready to ignite, if the order should come. They could try one more at least, right? And then what? How far and how long would Abrazimir give chase to a smaller, more agile ship before it escaped into the horizon and out of sight completely? And-

”Incoming!” The scout above shouted once more. And all about, the sailors and engineers crowded near the barricades above the railing, where they might find protection. Except Abrazimir, who glared at the other vessel, and raged in despair at his own helplessness in doing anything to stop it now. If the projectile did strike or harm him, he bet it would feel no less piercing than this icy grip of failure that crept around his heart. He failed to defend his people. Again and again. One day he would not be so helpless. He swore this in his heart.

”M’lord, take cover! Duck, duck!” Uichanar shouted at him.

”It’s coming!” Calenaur shouted.

It wouldn’t dare Abrazimir thought in his fury, as his sea-grey eyes looked upon it, reaching the height of it’s arc before it started to rush down towards their ship. Indeed, right towards him it seemed. He crouched, behind one of the shields, though for a projectile of that stature the shields wouldn’t stand a chance. There was a brief moment of uncertainty, as he could no longer see the missile’s approach. Then…the burning projectile burst through one of the shields placed on the barricade near Abrazimir, indeed the very next one to where he crouched. Had Trevadir not interfered, it would have pierced clean through and struck Abrazimir.

”Recover!” Uichanar shouted and quickly leapt up, to grab the flaming spear-shaped projectile and throw it and the shield overboard. Abrazimir stood as well and did not reflect on how close he came to death. That was already a constant pull on his thoughts. At night is when it plagued him the most but not here. Not in front of his men. Never in front of the enemy. ”Shall we respond, m’lord?” Uichanar asked, as they all watched the ship move further and further towards the horizon, at a greater speed and pace than them. No, just eyeballing the distance, Abrazimir knew it was too much.

”Hold.” He said, raising up an armoured fist. ”But keep us on course. Follow them.” He instructed.

”They’re just fleeing to open sea. Once they are far away to take a wide berth, they will simply double around behind us and head back to Middle-Earth.” Calenaur reported. And he was right. Eventually the enemy ship would speed into the horizon and beyond it where they could not be seen. Then simply detour around back to land. The Bregolalph might be chasing shadows out here for a very long time.

”Just for a short margin. I want to see…what they might do.” Abrazimir muttered. He just…couldn’t do nothing. Certainly not turn around with his tail tucked behind his legs. Again. But how long could he commit to an increasingly dangerous voyage into open sea for the sake of his pride? ”And put that fire out.” He said, about the torch held aloft the next shot, ready to ignite. It would not be necessary anymore. They might shoot at us again… But they’ll have to turn around as well and come back to land. Maybe he could increase their hazard by forcing them more out to open sea, where the same dangers that could sink the Bregolalph might strike them.

Yet even Abrazimir was wise enough not to invoke His name, the husband of Uinen, to strike at his enemies. For the same wrath that might be brought on the Corsair vessel could easily engulf the Gondorian one as well…

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Weapons-Master Alrek and a few other crew
December, 3017
The 'Wingôlost', fleeing from the Bregolalph
Northern side of the Cape of Andrast

The arrow had hit something on the ship, but they were too far away by now to be able to see whether it had hit its intended target. Alrek stared across the sea at the distant war ship, and eventually caught a glint of metal in the sunlight as the knight stood up again. The pirate cursed as he grumbled under his breath about that stupid boy. He felt sure he'd had it lined up for a perfect shot, until Trev messed it up. He hoped the Boatswain would give him a good lashing for that, but it wasn't up to Alrek. Although, Trev was assigned to train frequently under Alrek's instructions... he kept that in mind for future possibilities of punishment. Or at least taking his anger out on him later, through 'training'.

For now, the weapons master of the pirate ship turned to one of his men, who had asked whether to fire the next shot. Alrek sighed, looking across the water. "No. Too far away, now." he grumbled. "Best save them bolts, we don't wanna waste 'em." He decided. "But leave the ballista here." He decided. "If they keep after us, we may get a chance to use it again." he added. One could only hope, he thought with a dark smile.

|
Captain Dev & Jay (first mate)
At the helm

The 'Wing' as the crew often called the ship, sailed on with full sails, heading northward.

"Think we've outrun them?" Jay asked, glancing nervously toward the back of the ship. He had been extra nervous when the fiery missiles were flying around, but now those seemed to have stopped.

"That would be my guess," Dev answered. "They've got a lot of weapons and bulk, but we have speed and agility." He smiled. "That's why I like this ship. She can sail faster than almost any others." He motioned for Jay to take the helm. "I'll be back. I want to see how Alrek and the guys are doing."

|

As he approached the group still standing around the ballista, Dev called out, "How goes it?"

Alrek had his hands gripping the unbroken part of the rail, frowning off in the distance. By now, the war ship was hardly to be seen by the unaided eye. "Well, we outran them," He reported, less than enthused. "Hit their ship a couple times, but.." he shrugged. "It could've been better."

Dev squinted toward the distant ship. "Where's the spyglass?" He asked.

"The kid's still got it, I think."

"And where's he?" Dev refrained from sighing, expecting to hear that Trev was off somewhere playing with his flute, or scribbling in that book of poems he always carried around.

"The brig," Alrek scoffed, clearly very annoyed.

Dev blinked, and then let out the sigh after all. "What did he do this time?"

---

|
Trevadir & Dev
Down below in the Brig

Trev stopped playing abruptly when he heard the door open. He slid his flute under his jacket, and looked up to see his father coming, bearing a lantern to illuminate the brig where Trev was locked up.

"What is wrong with you?" Dev demanded with a scowl.

Trev huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "So, there's something wrong with me, because I didn't want someone to get murdered?" He retorted. "You really ought to take a look in a mirror, if you want to see who's got something wrong with them."

"You disobeyed orders, you went against everything you were told to do... it's like you're just trying to make me angry with you." Dev retorted, then shook his head and sighed. "You really like pushing your luck, don't you, boy?" He stepped closer to the bars separating him from his wayward son. "You still have my spyglass?"

Trev stared at him for several seconds. "That's what you came here for?" He asked quietly. Not to see or speak to Trev. Not even to scold him. Just to get his stupid glass thing. He pulled it from his pocket and flung it toward the bars, not even caring where it might hit. If he was lucky, it might even hit Dev.

He was not so lucky. The thing didn't even make it quite to the bars, and rolled the rest of the way so that Dev was able to pick it up at his feet. "Good thing you didn't lose it." Dev scowled. "I hope you take this time to think about your idiotic choices, and come to your senses." With that, he turned and left, taking the light with him.

Trev sighed and leaned his head against the wall, staring into the dark with a frown. He had been doing some thinking, actually. He had made a decision; that when he got out of the brig, he was going to push the ballista overboard so that they could never use that thing to hurt anyone ever again. Sure, they'd probably find other ways, but at least it would be something he could do. He would have to sneak around to do it, of course, but he'd find a way even if he had to take the device apart piece by piece.

---

|
December, 3017
Captain Dev & Jay (first mate)
Back at the helm

"Where are we heading now?" Jay wondered as Dev rejoined him, spyglass in hand.

"I was thinking we might go up north." Dev sighed. "That'll give time for things to settle down here, and maybe they'll lower their guard. I hear one can get much wealth up north, if you can stand the cold." He mentioned.

"Now that's the sort of thing I like to hear." Jay grinned. "And the crew will be happy with that idea, too."

"Exactly." Dev smiled back and took over at the helm. They had enough supplies to last them a few days before they'd need to restock, and if they were lucky they might come across some merchant ship or something that they could raid, and take their supplies over. Or, if necessary, they could come to shore at some point along the coast. Either way, they were heading toward Forochel now, and wouldn't be back this way for a long while.


(The pirate's tale is continued here)

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, on patrol beyond the Cape of Andrast
About a year prior to the War of the Ring, 3017 TA

The pirates had escaped. Abrazimir had been too slow. He could only watch, helplessly, as the retreating vessel pulled further and further away, it’s lesser stature giving it a greater agility and speed upon the waves. Where were they going? Northwards? But…there was nothing there. Just empty coastlands and desolation. Elves too, apparently, but that seemed like something out of fairy tales at this point. The Corsairs were going to flee north and do…what? Whatever it was seemed less scary than a confrontation with the Gondorians, but for them, it was too much of an unknown to pursue.

So many questions and not a single, clear answer in sight. Abrazimir balled his hands into fists and pressed them down on the ship’s railing. The enemy vessel continued to grow smaller and smaller. Maybe another hour or two, they would be a speck on the horizon. And then beyond it. ”Turn us around.” He instructed Calenaur, who nodded and went to repeat the order to the sailors and marines. Slowly, they would make a roundabout and head back to familiar shores. There would be other intrusions and raids. He could not pursue one when there was so much left at stake.

”The ship we just encountered…” Uichanar mused aloud, ”one of ours, no? Not the typical Umbarin or Haradrim design.”

”Most likely stolen, to infiltrate and move undetected amongst our ports. To gather news of our movements and carry out their own schemes. A most devious method of operation.” Abrazimir at least knew that much. It was a serious concern often emphasized at the court of the Prince. Indeed, a problem that persisted for centuries. And never a clear solution or easy answer. ”But to use one of ours is an advantage we can press. Our ships are…works of art and pride. Each in itself is different and unique. The profile of that vessel, there are few like it. And I shall remember it.” He said, before gazing down at the dark, deep waters beneath their vessel.

”They will come back. And when they do…we shall be waiting. And ready.” He promised, not only to Uichanar and his men, but to himself as well. He would not be letting this go again. For now though, urgent circumstances required him close to home. He already lost enough pursuing objectives beyond the confines of Gondorian control and authority. He could not risk it again so soon. This was a failure he would have to take, but not one he would lightly forget. Ever.

Oh yes, they were going to be very ready… After all, the pirates seemed to have made a very pointed attack against him. Now, it was personal. He would not forget. Or forgive.

”Take us home.” He gave his final order and moved to retire for the day.

(13)

[Rillewen]

(Private with @Ercassie)

|
Dev and Jay
On board the stolen ship bearing the also stolen name, 'Wingolost'
Somewhere on the sea between Harlond’s and Dol Amroth’s harbors
On a dark night in July

Thick clouds obscured the moon, casting the world into deep darkness. Just the way Dev preferred it to be for such an operation as this. He stood at the ship’s prow, gripping the railing as he waited. Though the summer night was warm, he felt chilled, and yet, and he bore a sheen of sweat on his brow. The pain seemed to worsen the longer time went on, and he was annoyed that tonight of all nights, those pains had come to plague him again. There was no way he would be able to join his crew on this mission, much to his regret. But he could at least give them their directions, and hope that his second in command could manage to succeed this time.

Dev’s contact back in Harlond had always been quite reliable, and had never given the captain any reason to doubt him. Since the man got a portion of any loot the pirates acquired, in return for his aid, he always supplied the pirates with the best information he could, even going so far as to give them warning if he suspected a trap. This particular information had been quite interesting to Dev. A royal transport ship, on its way from Harlond to Dol Amroth. The vessel did not contain any cargo that was of any great monetary value, though, reportedly, it did carry a batch of mail that might prove of interest. Still, ordinarily, a prison transport ship be of little interest to the pirates, and far too much risk to bother with unless there was good cause. But this particular one was of interest… to this particular pirate. No expensive goods on their way to the Prince’s city, but rather, a potentially valuable person was what Dev was interested in.


“We’re ready, Captain.” Jay’s hushed voice informed him, approaching softly.

“Good.” Dev’s voice was slightly strained for that one word, but he struggled to gain control of it, speaking again after a moment without sounding quite as pained. “You’ll have to take over this time, Jay.” They’d been through this sort of thing often enough, so it wasn’t new.

Jay paused, watching the captain, and nodded slowly. “What’re we after, Dev?” Jay asked, purposely making no comment about the captain’s condition. They had worked together and sailed together for many years, and he knew that Dev did not like to appear weak, and wouldn’t like any of the crew to be aware of his health issue. As far as he knew, Jay was the only one of the crew who knew of Dev’s problem. But he also did not yet know what was so special about this raid.

Dev’s grip tightened on the railing as he clenched his jaw, fighting to keep silent through an intense wave of pain. After a few moments, he let out a slow breath, glad it was dark enough that the two men could hardly see one another. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and turned to the other ship. Only the glimmer of their lanterns showed him that the ship was there at all. Dev’s ship had no lights going at all, so not to give away their position. “On that ship, down in the brig, there’s supposed to be a specific prisoner. An old..pal, you might say.” He smiled grimly. “He’s been useful in the past. And I hope he can be useful again. I’d like you to pay a visit to him, and find out if he’d be willing to help us. Otherwise... the things he could tell may prove useful to them, and I'd rather such information wasn't shared.”

“You mean this is a rescue?” Jay asked, surprised. This would be the first time they had ever done that, at least without the kid’s meddling to push them into it. But the kid wasn’t with them anymore. Maybe that was who they were transporting? He’d never known of Dev to be interested in a rescue, and found it quite unusual, but he did know that the man was quite determined to have his son around. And Trev definitely knew things that they'd rather wouldn't be repeated to the authorities.

Dev laughed faintly. “Call it what you like. But I’d call it more of a.. proposition. If he’s willing to aid us, then bring him aboard and we’ll see how it works out. And any others who are willing to join us. If he’s not willing, well... we'll ensure that he won't have a chance to enjoy whatever hospitality the Belfalasians offer him.” Motioning Jay closer, Dev spoke softly to his first mate, filling him in on the rest of the details.

“Ahh. Right,” Jay nodded thoughtfully, giving Dev a curious glance but didn’t ask any further questions. Dev didn’t usually do things without a good reason, he had learned long ago. And ensuring that the authorities didn't get a chance to learn anything they shouldn't learn, was a very good reason. “I’ll get going then.”

---

Jay, with several others
Stealthily boarding the Gondorian ship ‘Aearmahalma’

The rowboat glided silently through the calm, dark waves, gently rocking from the swells. “Whoa,” Jay murmured to the fellows rowing. He had brought along only the crew members most skilled in stealth; those that he trusted to be able to move quietly and accomplish their tasks in silence. They came up alongside the rudder, and while two men held onto the other ship to hold them steady, Jay pulled out his dagger. It didn’t take long for him to cut through the lines connecting the wheel to the steering mechanism, but he didn’t stop there. He’d brought along a few tools, and carefully got to work on the bolts holding the rudder onto the ship.

As he worked, Jay thought back briefly to when he’d taught Dev’s ungrateful brat how to do this sort of thing, and with irritation, remembered how Trev had turned that knowledge to work against their own ship. Jay frowned, but shook his head and paid attention to what he was doing. “Alright, hold onto it now. We don’t want any splashes,” he whispered as he prepared to loosen the final bolt. He waited to make sure his fellow crewmen had a good hold on it before loosening the final bolt. With the other two holding securely onto the rudder, it was lowered silently into the water, and released. If it hadn’t been so dark, Jay would have enjoyed watching it disappear into the depths of the sea. “There,” He put away his tools and smiled. There wasn’t much the ship could do to fix that now, without having another rudder. “Now let’s board.”

Not a sound was heard as Jay climbed up the rope and over the railing. Dressed in all black, the man seemed to melt into the shadows as one of the sentries approached, patrolling along the top deck, unaware of the small rowboat filled with pirates below. In the darkness, their boat seemed to vanish among the dark waves, and the lack of moonlight aided their invisibility.

Jay crouched, watching the man patrolling the deck, waiting for the right moment, judging when he should strike. This was no merchant’s ship filled with goods, with a few men hired on to play the part of guards, who may or may not be good with a weapon. This was a higher level of security than what the pirates were accustomed to dealing with. This guard was well trained, heavily armored, and carried weapons he was well proficient with using. It was clear just from watching him that he knew what he was doing. Still, armor couldn’t protect against everything, and Jay smiled to himself as he decided on what he would do. The man had gone about two steps past where Jay lurked, when he swiftly leaped out, caught the man with a hand wrapped around his chin, and swiftly twisted his helmeted head so that his neck snapped… all before the man knew what happened. As the man sank back against Jay, he kept the upper body lifted off the deck, and with a little effort as he quietly pulled the body out of sight among the shadows behind some barrels, and lowered it to the deck. They could strip him of his armor and weapons, later, and sell it.

He watched for a long while, counting a total of three other sentries. Each of them met a similar fate. Aside from those four, there was one man, probably the first mate, at the helm. He looked like he was just beginning to find something wrong with the steering, when Jay crept up behind him. He was so absorbed in trying to make sense of why the wheel wasn’t doing what he expected, that by the time he felt some sense of another person’s presence behind him, it was too late. He joined the sentries without getting a chance to turn and see who was behind him.

After checking that no one else was awake and lurking around on deck, Jay signaled for the rest of his small crew to come aboard. “Let’s get to work, guys.” He left them to their work, which they knew well. Remove the sails from the rigging to ensure that the ship was left dead in the water. Without a rudder, they couldn’t steer, but without sails they couldn’t even travel unless they used oars. Which the pirates would also make sure they did not have. They would also take all weapons from the crew and soldiers aboard, so they would be less inclined to try anything foolish. Jay had also suggested that they barricade them all into their sleeping quarters, so as to minimize any chances of anyone trying to be a 'hero'. The less risk of fighting, the better.

Jay, meanwhile, made his way to the captain’s cabin, and with ease of long practice, let himself in by picking the lock. The snores coming from inside assured him the captain was sound asleep. Good. Jay may have taken to the seafaring life, but he was still a thief, burglar, and pickpocket at heart. Stealth was his forte. He smiled to himself as he silently poked around the cabin, searching for valuables. Sure, he could demand that the captain hand over anything worth taking, but where would be the fun in that? Besides, he might hold out on him. Jay liked to be sure he wasn’t missing out on any goodies.

A nice, hefty bag of gold was stashed away in the desk, along with some other trinkets that swiftly found their way into Jay’s pockets. Smiling, he wandered over to a nightstand and checked in the drawers. He happily pocketed a couple other items that might get a nice price, and then spotted the hilt of a dagger peeking out from under the snoring man’s pillow. Clearly, he was a heavy sleeper, or else he had complete faith in his first mate and sentries’ ability to guard the ship. Poorly placed faith, that was. He didn’t stir as Jay eased the dagger out. A sword hung by its belt on a hook close at hand, as if the captain had figured on having it ready to grab at a second’s notice if he were suddenly awakened. Jay shook his head slightly to himself in amusement as he lifted it, careful not to make a sound.

After satisfying himself that the room held no further hidden treasures, it was time to awaken the captain. Jay stepped to the door and motioned to a couple of his fellows who were passing by. In situations like this, he was always felt a little more comfortable showing folks right away that they were outnumbered. Once he had a couple of men for backup, standing silently behind him with their weapons drawn, Jay lightly brushed the tip of the captain’s own sword over his nose, smiling faintly in amusement as he watched the man twitch his nose, then try to brush away the thing tickling him. After a moment, when Jay persisted, the man’s eyes popped open, then he jolted awake in alarm.

“Hate to disturb your beauty sleep,” Jay remarked without any hint of actually being sorry, “but we’ve got a couple of requests to make.” He smirked.

“Wha..” The man blinked, focused his gaze on the blade pointed in his face, and then looked back at the three men standing in his room. “Who are you? What requests?” He demanded with a frown, trying to seem as if he was not still fuzzy from sleep.

“Oh, it’s not much. Just that you and your crew surrender, and don’t cause any trouble. Oh, and hand over any valuables. The usual thing,” Jay shrugged. “Nothing too strenuous, and then you can get back to your dreams of sawing logs.”

“Hand over… surrender..? Why would I do a thing like that?!” The captain demanded, indignantly, attempting to rise from the bed, until the sword reminded him to remain lying down.

Jay raised an eyebrow slightly, and shrugged one shoulder. “Well,” Keeping the blade’s tip pressed to the man’s throat, Jay’s other hand came to tap on his chin, pretending to consider. “There is the blade pointed at your throat, of course. But if that isn’t reason enough, how about the promise that you and your crew will be spared, if you cooperate? Otherwise..” He shrugged in mock apology. “I’m afraid you’d leave us no choice but to make an example of your entire ship.”

“Example?” The man repeated, warily. His eyes narrowed as if he knew the answer already.

Jay told him anyway. “Right, an example of what happens to those who try to stand in our way. Now, I’d really prefer to do this the easy way, but if you insist, we can always make things..unpleasant.”

The two behind him each took a small step closer, displaying their weapons and grinning as if anticipating some ‘fun’.

“Oh, I should also mention that we’ll refrain from setting your ship ablaze, if you choose the easy way.” Jay added with an amiable smile. “What do you say, captain?” Honestly, he was hoping he would just cooperate. He’d much rather get this done without having to fight, because there was always the chance of their own people getting hurt, and that, of course, included himself.

The captain glared at Jay, eyes quickly darting from one to the other of the men behind him, before returning to the spokesman. “You think you intimidate me, pirate?” He narrowed his eyes angrily.

“I dunno, probably not.” Jay shrugged, angling the sword as if to inspect it idly, while still keeping it touching his throat. He would be able to feel the blade moving against his neck, thus reminding him that Jay definitely had him at a disadvantage. “But you should consider yourself luckier than your sentries, and whoever was at the helm. I’m afraid we had to..get rid of them. You understand.. it wouldn’t really be profitable for us to have them raise the alarm.” He shrugged apologetically, though it was done in a mocking sort of way.

The captain hesitated, considering the meaning behind that, and frowned, tensing as if to try and get up again. “You murdering scum-” he stopped as the sword pressed a little more firmly against his neck.

“Uh uh,” Jay chided him as if talking to a child. “Name-calling is most definitely not playing nice, no matter how fitting you think the names might be.” He smirked and waited until the man had relaxed, then eased up slightly with the blade.

“You threaten me with my own sword, and then expect me to be courteous?” The captain retorted, barely containing his fury, though he didn’t dare try to move again.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it yours.. well, not anymore.” Jay grinned. “I think it’ll look nice hanging at my captain’s side, don’t you, fellas?” He grinned as the other two murmured in agreement. “I’m more of a dagger guy, myself,” Jay added, showing off the new dagger he’d acquired, wondering if the captain would recognize it as his own, and pick up on the fact that he could easily have killed him in his sleep.

If he caught that implication, the captain said nothing. But, if looks could kill...

“Now, what’ll it be, captain? I’m tired of waiting.” Jay’s features hardened a bit as he pressed the sword tip harder against the captain’s throat. “Choose wisely.” His voice hardened as well. “Would you rather your Prince find a burned wreck filled with dead men and all the prisoners gone? Or find the crew bound, but alive, and only missing one or two prisoners? Either way, the prisoners we want are lost to you. Think of your duty as captain. Your crew’s lives depend on you right now. Which is worth more, their lives, or your pride?”

---

Brig of the ‘Aearmahalma’

It was always quite satisfying when a plan came together without any flaws. Jay was feeling quite pleased with himself as he escorted the captain down below. He'd made the right decision; the lives of his crew were the most important thing to him. Jay's two crewmates flanked him on either side, and kept their daggers pointed at him to remind him why he shouldn't try anything. Jay followed behind, holding the sword so that the tip was just behind the man's back. Just as an extra reminder. "How many guards are with the prisoners?" Jay asked, along the way. The deck had been eerily abandoned, and the lack of sails flapping in the wind had added extra silence.

"Two." He retorted through gritted teeth. Jay had thought it best to bind his hands, and he still seemed sore about it.

Nodding thoughtfully, Jay looked around and quietly signaled to a couple more of his crewmates to come join them. "Any problems?" he asked in a low voice, as the pair came alongside.

"The crew's taken care of," One reported.

"Yeah, we locked 'em into their quarters," The other snickered. "Just like you said. Worked like a charm, I don't think any of 'em even woke up when we barred the door. We was real quiet about it."

"Good." Jay nodded in approval. "Someone needs to hang the lantern on the mainmast," He pointed to one of the men. "You do that." That would signal Dev to send the rest of his crew over, so they could take finish taking over the ship. "You," he told the other guy, "find a couple other guys, and come with us to the brig." He smiled. "The captain here is being most cooperative," He added in a sort of patronizing tone. Still, he didn't like the odds. Two heavily armored guards, against himself and two of his crew. They were good fighters, but he didn't want risk it. The more outnumbered the guards were, the better.

So, before long, a party of six pirates escorted the captain down to his own brig. Arriving at the door that separated the brig from the rest of the ship, the captain glanced at his captors.

"Tell them to open up." Jay prompted him quietly.

Seething, the captain glared at him. But he realized that all he could do at this point was hope that the pirates kept their word, and that this wouldn’t all end in a mass slaughter. "Guards, open up. It's the Captain." He called, loud enough to be heard from the other side, then cast another dark look at Jay. "I hope your ship sinks, with all of you scum on board." He declared, while waiting for the guards to do as they had been bid.

[Ercassie]

Private with @Lantaelen

The Crossing - Part 1



Introducing Netor Innam, aboard the ‘Scythe’
Departing the Bay of Umbar. Approx 6 years ago.

Rumours said that Captain Khalsim had a core of basalt where his heart ought to have been. The wise averted eyes from the lightless look which he might round upon them with little to no warning. Yet it beggared belief how any, who wore such a weathered face, might still stand stolid as the cliff face of the rugged coast. The once sable hue of his long hair was now betrayed by channels of silver which ravaged the thick flurry of a spade-shaped beard. And for all that, he faded not, but somehow persevered, amassing skill and reputation like a slow maturing wine. The man he knew as Netor Innam was one of a small few who dared even to assume a place at his side, as though they might ever be measured equal.

Of course the Corsair known as Netor Innam was not one to discount himself. Not any more.


“The wreckers gam together like caribe,” the Captain’s opinion was shared. With the one man aboard he cared to ever converse with. Their shared gaze quietly surveyed the far shore where small shapes of folk, in ragged clothes, hauled prizes from the surf and beat each other bloody before they ever had inspected what they were fighting over. “The vessel was of Belfalas. They never learn. Gold does not float.”

“Our own quarry will prove less lively in the take,” Netor sighed, with a wistful tone of envy. The task they would be put to was far less perilous, although many shades more macabre. The man turned narrowed eyes to seek some want for consolation in the desolate husk, of the battered Belfalasian wreck.

“Blue and bloated bodies, churned all about like sea frond,” was an accurate expectation. Their lord and employer after all, was Keket Halsad; and that lord and employer had never cared for any of the sinking baubles or trinkets which would feed his less fortunate peers, for a month, a year, a generation. He craved only to harvest what remained of the most recently dead. To study what that death had done to what was left of them; to employ a use for even the smallest of pieces the sea spewed up in distaste. Of course, Keket would not go out personally and gather up this ghastly resource. His Captain was hard put to remember that there had been worse days to face. “I still recall,” Khalsim said, dispirited, “the day that this same harbour was so thick with our own dead, that a watch could not see the water. Not for all of those that shielded the surface, even amongst the splinters which had served as ships, blood-streaked sails rendered to their pall. Curse be to Gondor.”


“This day it is their dead that fill our deep.” the younger man shrugged, serving himself what seemed a very generous swig from the plain flask he dug out of a pocket.

The Captain watched the other embarking on this private refreshment, said nothing as it went unshared, and lit his disappointment toward the small procession which was moving, now determinedly, toward the ‘Scythe’. “Thought we were plucking from the deep tonight, not adding to that hoard,” he ducked his high brow in the direction of evidence to the contrary.

Netor’s arm dropped, almost with relief, as his cohort found at last what the other had been waiting on. Raising his flask anew, the younger man waved to the approaching, wretched-looking, trio; who were bearing between them, a long wooden box up from the dock. “Burial at sea,” he explained away the arrival. For it would not be the first time. “One of ours, found out among the wreckers. A just end for a greedy, bilge-lapping weevil.” If the end of his sentence was granted louder volume, as warning for any would-be-dissenters close at hand, it would all the same be hard to hear. For as soon as he had started with the warning, the box was subject to banging and cries of woeful despair from within. As though the condemned had only now learned his fate. One of the attendants staggered as the weight shifted from his shoulder, and seemed likely to fall. His nearest peer moved swiftly to re-balance the matter, and take up greater portion of the weight so that they could proceed. The useless shouting continued, and so did they.


“That is a woman. At the backend,” the Captain observed calmly, as Netor waved the new arrivals toward where they were destined, below deck. As though he had not noticed.

“That is why she is at the ... backend,” Innam grinned however, moments later, so that the two men tilted both heads (and minds) in unison and watched the cargo disappear. “I shall send her your way once we are .. underway,” the promise was made, and the Captain appeased. “It does not have to be an entirely unpleasant venture,” Netor hooked one eyebrow and handed the Captain his flask, before tucking his chin into neck, submissively.


Nobody saw the small shards of a split wax seal that was flicked discreetly overboard. Nor Netor’s silent satisfaction as Khalsim drank deep .. of what the more wily man had not let pass the sealed throat of the flask, when he had made all false appearances to that effect. The Captain did not drink often, he knew, but still Khalsim drank deep if he were to ready for a gruesome, thankless task; such as they now faced. The flask was not returned and no protest nor objection was raised by Netor, who honestly had no further use now for it. Against the backdrop of calls for the anchor to be raised, the 'corsair' took himself also below. The door to the Captain’s Cabin was shut fast, just in time for him to witness. But he knew already what would occur now behind closed doors. He did not need to see it.


In truth he would miss the man, going forward; but it could not be helped. Noone else of the Umbarian crew must survive, or else he might not himself. And the man named as Netor, sometimes, cared rather more about himself than any other. He could not afford to fall to leniency now, even for the sake of friends. He had amassed enough coin in Dol Amroth to buy new friends. And Khalsim, the Captain with basalt for a heart .. would learn the hard way that a soul so obstinate as stone will sink as swift as would a ballast .. in the face of an ever fluid future. An ever flexible friendship had outlived it's worth.

It paid to be rather more .. adaptable. And the man known as Netor Innam intended to get paid. In full !

[Ercassie]

Private with @Rillewen

Arkadhur Halsad, aboard the mighty ‘Aearmahalma’
Prisoner, undergoing transportation to Dol Amroth. July of the present year.

The prisoner was not asleep, nor likely to be any time soon. Not least thanks to the abrupt interruption which saw even the two Guards almost startled. They covered it well, not that he was privy to their expressions beneath those helms. Still there was certainly a moment that the silent contemplation of the sentries screamed grounds for concern. What would the Captain be doing here .. now ? The Umbarian made a big show out of showing the barest of intrigue.

“Captain ?” one of the Guards repeated. The other shrugged. There was only one way to find out what it was about, and they were as armed and armoured as any could stand ready, for whatever might come in through the door.

“We’re sinking !” the other, more anxious, prisoner from before interpreted, in a panic. Even Arkadhur rolled his eyes in response, but did not offer an opinion of his own. He simply watched, to see what would unfold.

“Silence !” the second Guard bade and took the opportunity to veer further away from the uncertainty, to check on the fool. As that man cowered down and started rocking in a cross-legged fret, the Guard returned to stand beside his partner. “What hour is it ?” he muttered.

“This is taking unpredictable to the extreme, wouldn’t you say ?” the other sighed. There was no choice for him regardless. They could not disobey a direct command from their Captain. If it were less than a wise choice to open the door, what choice else did they have ? They could not stay in there forever. They could not go any place else. And if the Captain needed them, their duty was clear.


The door to the hold inevitably opened and the less compliant Guard was forced aside as a six-strong pack of men worked their way inside the brig. The Captain in their throng, though with hands bound behind his back, he was not by any means in control.

A captive audience, quite literally, Arkadhur rose up, albeit still in silence, from where he’d been sat. He could not come to the bars for a closer view, but there was no mistaking now what this was. The arrivals were not men of this vessel. There was no uniform, no order to them. Almost as a crowd of children released from their classroom, they had burst upon the scene and looked to be the only ones happy to stand there. He knew enough of some of them to recognise them all. He had sailed with the pirate and his crew before, particularly since the ‘Scythe’ had been lost. He had sent work their way, before and afterwards. Clients who Dev could extort with fees and demands, when there was no other avenue to offer an alternative. He had even introduced the man to Keket, when Dev had at first had thoughts only to working with Uhta and their father ..


More than one of the other prisoners by now had started to note the new state of things. And Arkadhur understood. They had come to free their missing crew members, his fellow inmates, all en route. Brown eyes scanned the faces, weighed up what might be managed here. Ought he make himself known to them ? Would they think naught of dispatching with his life ? Which turncoat Gondorian had told Keket that Arkadhur had survived the taking of the ‘Scythe’ out of Umbar ? Had it been Devedir, or Ademar ? He still was not entirely sure.


The two Guards were taken with concerns as well, although theirs were of a different sort to the Umbarian. “How .. where have you sprung from ?” the bolder managed, his keen polearm poised between them, but not yet put to deed. He could keep them from reach, but not all at once.

The second Sentry had his eyes entirely to where cold steel was set far too close for his liking, toward their Captain’s skin. “Step down, brigands,” he added his voice to the fray, a new pulsing anger quarrelling with fear to master his tone. “And see where you stand. We are the ‘Aearmahalma’ of Dol Amroth. And your impudence shall not go unanswered.”


The Umbarian’s laughter was the first response, before the man could help himself. What had they expected would happen ? That the invaders were come here to surrender ? Still the Guards struck not with their tools. The fate of their leader hung in the balance, holding them at a stalemate for now. For the cells were locked up, the prisoners in fetters, and the keys to all were in the chest the sentries had both sat on, for repose when chance allowed. Each side clearly had what the other one craved. From his ringside seat, Arkadhur appeared to have lost interest in what would prove an inevitable outcome. He sat back down and closed his eyes. Began to count down, under his breath.

The sailors would surely soon seize advantage of the soldiers’ hesitation. Surely. They had not come all this way and took such trouble to do aught else. They knew, as well as he, what came next. Order. It was Gondor’s weakness, and the fools clung to the concept of ‘doing the right thing’ as though they stood children, clinging to their mother’s skirts. Order was all that they had. But anarchy stood at hand. Unpredictability .. the Guards had claimed to be trying for it. Well .. this was .. that ..


And also the opposite. No crew of Umbar would succumb simply because their Captain was compromised. Indeed, in Umbar, there would be a conflict only over who would take his place. Before ever that first body’s blood ran cold. Arkadhur had seen it, first hand. He had, in fact, seen to it personally ...

[Ercassie]

Private with @Lantaelen

The Crossing – Part 2




Netor/Hollin/Arkadhur and Ilisys with Addhor and Unalmis.
Aboard the ‘Sea Scythe’ – with Abrazimir
An uneasy escape from Umbar. Approx 6 years ago approx.

They took leave of their burden as soon as ever it was safe to do so, lowering the weighty load from shoulders to the floor. The relief of that release and also the short reprieve from worse peril … was quite evident in laboured breath all around, though a small chorus of hushing and whispers urged each other that they ought still employ stealth. The ship was not yet from it’s berth, and their temporary refuge far from defensible if they should be discovered. Above, the covered hatch let in the song of sailors elsewhere, all going about their varied tasks to see the ‘Sea Scythe’ underway. Here, in the hold, the only box which had been loaded aboard was unlocked, it’s cargo unleashed. So that soon a fourth set of wide eyes set about exploring the scene.

The hold as it turned out, was a dispiriting emptied belly, which spoke of no immediate plan for the vessel to venture far out from the bay. The barrels which were roped together in small huddles, squatted with their hats cast aside, rank with only the remnants of what they might have held before, to stain their staves. Several small wooden cages swung from hooks aloft, though bare of any birds which might have normally took roost there. The floor felt as though there sat several, and some of them sticky, layers between the floor as it were proper, and where feet were able to walk over it. There was straw, in places, and less discernable things as well. The stink was overall, a likely blend of rat urine and compressed body odour. As the noblewoman fought the want to hold her breath, she wondered randomly if that was how this portion of the ship had earned it’s name.


Isys had been aboard ships before now, of course, though the contrast was so vast that she might as well not count that as experience. She had travelled to this very land not so long ago in a panelled cabin of her kinsman’s vessel. She had been almost equally impressed, before that, also, by the chivalry of fellow swan knights, who had each enough sisters and mothers in their hearts to hang a small curtained-off area of their large shared quarters, for her modesty on voyages a-sea. This however … was something else. And while she was not oblivious to the desperation they faced in fleeing this shore with all haste, still the sparse surroundings showcased a dilemma. This ship was not readied to face a voyage all the way home to Belfalas. It resembled more one which had only recently come home, it’s stocks exhausted.

Squinting about them in the meagre light, the lady seized upon a couple of lanterns which swung at various intervals. But if she had hoped they might illuminate more hope as well as contents in the storeroom, a small frown soon betrayed her disappointment. Still she tended these as Addhor eased his son to sit upon a coil of rope so massive it might have been a sleeping python. Much shuffling and subdued gasps served as a necessary but concerning backdrop to this small accomplishment. But as the father began trying to fashion a sling for his child’s shoulder, Isys glanced by for Abrazimir, to gauge his mind on their circumstance.


There had scarce been time to consider the nobleman’s mood, since he had been took from his wrecked ship, his men dashed to death or dragged down to the depths by a misfortunate storm. Isys was scarce 8 years the man’s elder but she felt in that moment ever so many years more. Moreover, she was the one who had invited his involvement. Now instead of their boldly saving a ship’s load of sailors, they had unhappily lost a second quota of men as well. Add to that, she could only guess at the degradations which the Umbarian wreckers had condemned him to as they dragged him off to await auction. It was a miracle that they had retrieved him in time. If they were going to make it home with what small amount of them remained, she was going to need his help. And she could only hope that it would not prove too great an ask, given all that had already happened. They had known it would not be easy. They had never imagined that it might be this hard.

A knock at the door in that very moment saw her recall that there was in fact a door from the rest of this deck. And alert required that she held up a hand almost upon instinct by this point, crossing the floor to meet their meagre barricade and who might stand beyond it.


“Sea may rise.. ”

The three words were spoke low but undeniable, and carried greater weight to her mind than they might have meant to any other who heard them. For they were of course the motto of her House. And the voice, she clearly recognised with equal welcome, so that moments passed before she remembered to respond.

“Sky may fall,“ she laid her lips almost upon the wood, and exchanged a look back for her fellow stowaways each, to nod her intention, before allowing entry. Of an apparent ally. The man looked else as any of the crew, save that the lady clearly was familiar with him. Addhor too recognised Hollin from when he’d emerged in the alley before, to break words and vows of aid to their endeavour. In the moments after they had lost Abrazimir, even temporarily, the stranger had shown a commitment of interest toward their ambition.


“Lord Hollin,” Isys greeted and introduced their ‘guest’ to her countryman, proper, as though the one who joined them was being admitted to their garden party, rather than a far-from-guaranteed escape attempt from enemy territory. “You did promise us fair passage,” she admitted that he had held up at least half of his end of the bargain. There was small thought of betrayal when little purpose could be gleaned in her understanding, from having them escape shore, unto a ship, only to return them ? No. The man seemed as keen as they were to be away, she decided.


“The passage not so fair as I would wish,” the Umbarian admitted, honestly. "Though I have made arrangements for yourself at least to find a finer seat for the remainder of the voyage. My lady," He bowed. He smiled. He had allowed enough time for them to find the hold, as planned, and little more time beyond that for them to devise any plot further, without his involvement. As a result he had been forced to manage an awful lot by himself in a rather small span of time. Already Khalsim would be entirely compromised by now, which meant they could not afford anybody else to discover that fact yet. And then there had been the matter of the oar slaves.

Convincing their overseer to strike down the slowest of their number had been the bold and provocative means to see their ship from the port as swiftly as possible. The surviving rowers, after all, would be inspired by witnessing such punishment, all eager to avoid it for their own sake. Or so was his hope. In truth of course, the Umbarian knew that he could ill afford to have more than one of the slaves killed in this fashion. The overseer was not known for subtlety or mercy and would have made a show of it. In the long run of course, that should only strengthen the slaves’ collective want to seize their freedom … at the opportune moment of course. Netor. Hollin .. Arkadhur in truth of course, had already decided on the exact moment it would be most opportune. And now he had freed up a seat to place a further advantage to their cause. It it be willing..


“There is no choice in it,” he confided without ceremony to Isys once the door was closed behind him. “I can only deliver one to sit as oar slave, and all hope in liberating the rest shall fall upon him.” The two declared an appraising glance toward their options. From Abrazimir to Addhor who, since the arrival was apparently no threat, had returned his attentions to his son. The efforts to devise a sling for the lad’s shoulder remaining a work in progress, the Gondorian’s hands now more a tremble than he should like. The wooden portion of his right leg was unseen beneath the fall of trousers but the position which he held in, and the wary manner in which he shifted his stance, suggested that he had taken the last two falls rather worse than they had hoped. If that man was the same lost tribute which Pharak had been hoping to lure in, the blood priest would have been sincerely disappointed.

“What say you, sir ?” the Umbarian asked of Lord Dimaethor with not a moment further wasted upon hesitation. “Your ship I hear you lost, your men besides. But there are ninety, no .. eighty-nine sons of Gondor condemned by chains to row in the bowels of this ship. With this key, you can discreetly see them, and yourself, from bonds by the time we are rowed out of the bay. From there, the wind and fate take us, and you would have a crew to serve you as captain. A ship to replace what you are owed ..”


He held out a pair of shackles in the one hand, the key in his other, as though weighing the two against one another. He held out the latter then with more meaning, ready to secure the former once the means of escaping it had been stowed safe out of sight, about the other man's person. If he were prepared to face the risk.

“A ship would have a crew already,” Isys put in, thoughtfully, to deter her contact from pressing what was no small ask. Abrazimir had, after all, been so recently plucked from the promise of a life condemned to the oar … and now ..

“There are seven and forty men of Umbar already aboard the ‘Scythe’,” the Umbarian agreed. “Leave them to me. Not one shall be spared. You have my word.”

“None spared ..” the lady repeated slowly.

“They are your enemy,” Netor/Hollin/Arkadhur reminded her. “And they believe me one of theirs. But if I am to aid you in this, and then continue to aid others alike in the future, than the false identity which I have nurtured to achieve this means, can not be compromised. They must die. Without exception.”


“They think you one of theirs,” Addhor reminded them that other ears were on the conversation. “Might we not hold you then as perceived collateral ? It might bend their will to our want, with the greater ease.. and hostages might lend advantage in the long run.”

“You mistake Umbar for Gondor,” the Umbarian replied, especially slowly. “The first sign of vulnerability and the sharks shall fall into a frenzy to tear a man apart and take his place.” The false man considered his audience, each in turn, and tried to hold his impatience. Gondorians. Honestly ! They would sit and while away in debates until the Blood Guard came and marched them all back to the temple .. “What about your visit thus far has convinced you that they will react as you would in their place ?”


To that, the Gondorian had no answer. Though his son had by now begun to recover some, from bleary eyes and hazed state, at the sound of the Umbarian's voice. Familiar to him too, though for different reason. Recognising Arkadhur from their own previous emcounter, Unalmis tugged at Addhor’s sleeve as he dared to imagine what this meant.

“You are of your group, most like to be mistook for crew,” the Umbarian mentioned, swiftly, holding the elder Gondorian’s attention away from the youth’s growing evident .. concerns. It was true, that of all their rescue party, Addhor possessed the jaundiced sclera that even the most impressive desguise would not be able to replicate. He had not been raised to carry himself with the poise Belfalas revered. He did not have the high chin of defiance which the two swan knights adhered to, barely without noticing. He looked more like one of the crew than even the Umbarian did. Also though, he did not look like he could stand up ... not for long at least. “Remain here, keep the boy safe," Arkadhur stole the father's attention away from all hopes of the son, with this abrupt direction "Should any come here, tell them you are guard for the box.”

The liar then smoothly retrieved from his pocket a flask quite identical to the one he had handed Khalsim not a half hour before. “Take this, for your nerves,” he indicated the evident shaking of the alcoholic’s hands. Until Addhor clasped them tight selfconsciously in his lap and pretended they had never faltered. Still Netor/Hollin/Arkadhur did not relinquish his offer. “For the boy then,” the liar appeared to change his mind, and did not turn from steady gaze, to reassure them of his generosity. “He is in pain, and this will help to quiet him.”

[Rillewen]

(Private with @Ercassie)

Jay, with several others
Somewhere on the sea between Harlond’s and Dol Amroth’s harbors
Aboard the Gondorian ship ‘Aearmahalma’
On a dark night in July of present year

"I hope your ship sinks, with all of you scum on board."

As the captain of the Aearmahalma declared his hopes for the pirates, Jay merely smiled at him. "You had better hope it doesn't." He informed the man, though he didn't tell him why he should be hoping for that. There was a stirring from the other side, some voices from both prisoners and guards, by the sound of it, and soon, it opened.

The pirates pushed their way in as if they owned the place, Jay keeping the captain at blade point. There was where Dev and his crew had a small advantage over the other corsairs. For one, not many were left after the incident at Pelargir, when that army of ghosts swept through and wiped out many of their competitors. But even before then... a ship full of Umbarians could not properly understand an opposing ship full of Gondorians. But a ship led by Gondorians, with a mixed crew, could better understand and anticipate the actions of either Gondorians or Umbarians. They could contrive better, more effective methods for achieving their goals.

Unlike his Umbarian counterparts, Jay was quite aware of the loyalty of these type of folks toward their leader. He had very little doubt that they would follow his orders and that the captain would do all in his power to prevent unnecessary deaths. Especially, his own. He smirked to himself as the two guards tried to intimidate them. "Why don't you tell your dogs to heel?" He suggested to the captain. "Might want to mention why they should, too." He added, then gave an encouraging little nod with his head toward the man with a dagger at his neck.

With a sideways glare at the pirate, the captain still managed to keep his head high as he addressed the guards. "Do as he says," He clearly resented every word, but saw no other option. "There are many more of our.. guests.. up top.” The captain informed the guard, scowling. "The rest of our crew are.. at their mercy." He explained in a lowered, loathing tone. "If that even exists," He added bitterly, with a glare at the pirates.

Jay merely smiled amiably. "Of course it does. As I promised; you cooperate, and we spare your lives. Don't, and.. well, we don't." He shrugged. Simple as that. And who wouldn't rather survive? Though, he was wary still; these people with a sense of duty and honor sometimes chose to die defending a hopeless thing, than to give up in order to, hopefully, fight another day. "Actually, though, I’d really feel better if you two would pass those weapons to my friends here,” He mentioned with a nod to his crewmen. "Oh, and let's keep in mind," He added to the two guards, "there are two of you and six of us, and your captain would be the first to die, if anyone should have any.. heroic ideas." He gave the men a pointed look.

"What is it you vermin want?" The captain demanded. Recalling that two of the prisoners were captured pirates, he concluded that must be their goal. "If you're after those two," He motioned with annoyance, down the row of cells, to where Rurik and Borim were being held in separate cells, "then take them, and leave us in peace. We have a deadline, to bring these other prisoners unto Dol Amroth for judgement of their crimes." He declared, scowling. Losing two prisoners would not be as bad as losing the entire lot along with his whole crew, the man deemed.

Having recognized the voice of their first mate, the aforementioned two had eagerly watched the proceedings with growing grins each. "Jay!" One of them called out in delight, trying to get his attention. "Get us outta here, already!"

Jay hadn’t expected them to be here, but made no mention of this. He ignored them for now. “Open that one,” He ordered instead, pointing to one of the empty cells. He pressed the blade so firmly against the delicate flesh of the man's throat that a thin line of red appeared, and continued to apply pressure until his demands was carried out. He eased up slightly. "Good boys." he spoke almost as if talking to a pair of dogs, rather than men, amused at their obedience simply because.. they were bound by honor and noble notions and all that nonsense that Dev's kid used to be so hung up on. "Now, inside. Both of you." He ignored their protests, waiting until they had both entered.. whether with or without help from the pirates, and made sure that one of his men took the ring of keys away from them before he pushed the captain in with the other two.

This accomplished, Jay stuck the dagger in his belt as the door was swung shut, trapping the guards and captain inside. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He smiled at them before returning to his business. First, the Thief/Pirate walked over to look long and hard at Borim for a moment, then Rurik. Without saying a word, he turned and instead, he sauntered down the row of cells, glancing in to take a look at each prisoner as he passed. He stopped once he got to back to the front of the aisle, and turned to face them.

"Captain Dev Thormaetha would like to extend a generous offer to each of you," he spoke loud enough for them all to hear. "To anyone who would like join our crew, you may come with me and my friends, and you will have fair compensation for your work." He paused for a moment, hearing the two who used to be part of the crew mentioning something about being already in the crew. He cleared his throat. "The main thing which Dev requires, is that his crew follows orders." A pointed look rested in the direction of Rurik and Borim, before he concluded. "Anyone not interested, can remain where they are." He shrugged, unconcerned with who chose what option.

Strolling forward, he went to a specific cell. The man within was seated, in fetters. Jay crouched down to be on the same level with him. "As for you, Dev would like to request your assistance with something." He informed Arkadhur, and held up the keys so that they jingled like music to a prisoner's ears. He smiled. "Interested?"

[Ercassie]

Private with @Rillewen

Arkadhur Halsad, and Guards, aboard the mighty ‘Aearmahalma’
Prisoner, undergoing transportation to Dol Amroth. In July.

The scene played out as it no doubt had, many times before. The Belfalasian Captain was responsible for all lives aboard his vessel, and he knew it. It would be a sore struggle between pride and pragmatism but the man seemed to lean, albeit begrudgingly, toward their long term prospects. He did not know of course, the truth of what those now would be.

Arkadhur had known, even before the pirate leader declared his Captain’s true name. He was even further convinced when Jay failed to baulk at his incarcerated crew mates giving up his name as well. For all the sense that the man sounded to be speaking, the Umbarian knew, because he knew these men, that the fate of the pirates’ enemies was doomed. They would not be allowed to go on their way. Because Devedir was more ambitious than he was arrogant. This was no mere case of building up a reputation for his foes to quake at. This was something else.


The two Guards were clearly as unhappy about the shift in power, as their captive commander was. It was not even a case of a single man’s life as opposed to their own. For the reference to the countless more lives hanging in the balance only further weighted their conscience, and explained their officer’s motive. The sentries were spared, officially, from having to make the decision at all really, according to their customs, because their duty was to obey. They would, in this case, defer to their superior’s call on the situation, irrespective on what they might have done in his place. That was not .. their place. It was why they had elected and agreed to follow him, because they trusted him. As the Aearmahalma’s Captain made a clear assumption as to the pirates’ goal, his men exchanged a look. 'Of course, those two', the look conveyed. Sense and reason returned to their world. As did expectation of how this would go.

The first Guard knitted a dark brow beneath his helm, all the same, as the pirates’ spokesman gave his demand. To open the empty cell. And he wondered first if he could aim his polearm to threaten at least one of the two prisoners whom these pirates had apparently prized high enough to risk this whole endeavour to reclaim … It irked him to obey this fiend, more than ever as Jay insisted that they surrender arms. So the sentry glanced first to gain due permission from his Captain, before ever he lowered his polearm. With a sigh then, he moved toward the solid wooden chest and readied it open, even as his comrade took up a defensive stance between him and their foe. As if the pirates might suddenly rush them again. As if it would make any difference at this point. As the second's polearm was given up into enemy hands, with a slow blink, the first Guard drew the keys for the prisoner’s confines from the chest and closed it with a low ‘thunk’.


“May the Valar strike you down, for this transgression,” the second, still closest guard struck out at the invaders with words, since he now possessed no other means. He stood somewhat ineffectively between his comrade and the pirates, drawing their attention for as long as he was able. “I pity you and all that you have coming to you,” he growled low. “For they. See. All ..” he delivered a threat of his own.

Meanwhile the temptation for the first Guard to hurl the keys into the empty, locked, cell, to hand them even a little more time and their aggressors ... inconvenience, was suddenly overwhelming. Of course the now surrendered polearms would easily reach and retrieve the keys soonafter. Thoughts ticked like seconds in the privacy of the man’s helm. He played out each scenario available to them, in those few seconds of thought, considering the odds. Considering what penance might come of even so small a defiance. But the extra ‘attention’ awarded to their Captain’s life was timely. And all the more convincing. With a frown, the guard complied as per the order. For his Captain, for his crewmates …. NOT for the pirates. Or so he strove to convince himself.

He paused in a last minute effort to slip one key off the collective ring, even as a pirate reached for it. Their eyes met, and the sentry was forced to concede. His last chance to make a difference here, for better or worse, denied him. He could only hope that even this .. must have been the Valar’s decision. And although he could not understand why they were being tested, still the notion that there was some greater power than they to control it all, was a preferable opinion than accepting the short term indignity - that they were simply submitting to pirates. Nonetheless, as the cell door swung to a close, and they were rendered no more obstacle than their leader had come to stand in this, one guard seized the bars as though to test them, while the other backed off to mutter in Sindarin to the Captain, quietly.

“Does that go for us too ?” that same Belfalasian asked then, after Jay had spoke his invite for any who was ‘willing’ to join the crew. His comrade, still stood at the bars turned, aghast, at the apparent turncoat, and then caught the steady calm between his pair of cell mates and did not trust himself to speak or move. He jammed his helm down further if it were possible over his face, and gave no more away that he could manage.


Arkadhur meanwhile watched Jay approach, for the second time, and this time brought up brown eyes to consider the ‘request’. He glanced down as though recalling his bonds, when the pirate all but promised a means of release .. and then returned a steady gaze to the other man. He could not presume to guess what Devedir might want from him, or whether this would be the case of merely exchanging one risky outlook for another. A wise man would recall that it might be better to trust the devil that he knew. But he had come this far. Every time, fate held out it’s hand. Was this the proof of someone watching out for him, or the very opposite ?

Slowly he stood up, and held out his locked wrists toward the bars as he had done, to receive food or drink in days past. “I will hear him out,” he promised the pirate. It was not exactly a choice that they were offering him, when he knew better than most here what the crew were about and truly capable of. The entire intervention was unlooked for, of course, but Arkadhur was and ever had been flexible enough to adapt as required. Jay he knew, was a saboteur of ships. Arkadhur was a similar but still different strain of danger. He was more a saboteur of men. But these particular men .. already knew that. They knew in fact far more about him, and what he was about, than he was comfortable to admit, even to himself.

So he would play their game, aware that they did not even have to pretend to be polite about it. At the very least, perhaps he could get a few hours of sleep out of this.

[Lantaelen]

Private with @ercassie

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Aboard the ‘Sea Scythe’ – with Ilisys, Addhor, and Unalmis
The late Third Age.

The son and heir of Lord Dimaethor had a foul mood since the disaster. One of angry despair, of bitter hopelessness, of complete and utter disregard even for his own life if it might be the only way to escape this predicament. He was wounded, in pride and body, but he only bided his time and his strength. For what sign or hope, he didn’t know, but he just knew, he had to hope for an opportunity. Or else all would be lost. He would never see his home, his family, none of it again. He had come here on his friend and kinswoman’s initiative, with promises of heroics and rescue, but what had it availed them? Forty lives lost to save a handful. Now they might not even return with that.

But did he blame her? He felt her eyes shift to him and his own raised slowly to meet her gaze.

Did he blame her yet? Not…yet. Maybe never at all. They were in the bowels of this strange ship, huddled together like refugees before the flood. Or fire. Or both, as sea warfare could go. They were not free, even as they left the promise of deadly chains and brutality behind. The ship was still full of foes. They were days away from home. It was foolish to think they might stay overlooked here for very long. Soon they would be outted and set upon and returned to chains and cages all the same. Abrazimir had been there once. He did not want to be ever again. That was the look reflected in his eyes as he met the gaze of Isys. He was ready for whatever came. Because whatever came before was worse.

A knock. Abrazimir crouched low instinctively, hands balling into fists, though he wished he had some sort of weapon. A lantern? Could swing, make a mess of some Corsair’s head, for a moment. But then his own would be dashed to pieces. But the knock proved to be friendly, as the oft-heard words of House Azrubel were exchanged, as a form of passcode. He huddled near enough to Isys to overhear most of the conversation. It was passage enough, though it wasn’t exactly fair. But it was passage home. And there was still so much left to do. Abrazimir heard the necessary compromise. Only one to sit as an oar slave. And from there, all hopes fell on that individual. Who could be so strong as to survive through a vigorous ordeal? Who could be so bold and brave as to strike the first blow and risk it all? Who had nothing left to lose, or at least felt that way?

The query was posed right to Abrazimir, who raised up a little taller in his brutalized state. Who else could it be? His father had been here before. He won glory and victory by stepping up, to score a swift and decisive blow against the Umbarins. Could Abrazimir do any less? He did not say a word of acknowledgement or acceptance. He merely held out his hand to take the key, before stretching out both his wrists, to once more…be manacled. For the last time in his natural life. So he hoped. The key he slipped into the side of his boot. How he would be sitting, at the oar, it would not be a far reach for his hand to go from the handle of the oar. He would free himself, the others, then…then destiny would decide from there.

None spared indeed.

Their…insider, reasoned it out that once all chaos had broken loose, there would be no place for him to go but with the Gondorians. It was difficult to overlook the fact that this informant and friend of his kinswoman was nothing more than another Corsair. His desires to defect were not genuine or honorable. No doubt borne out of jealousy or ambition against his own kind. He even confirmed it to Addhor. His own compatriots would not care for him. Why should he care for them in turn? And that same betrayal might come and strike the Gondorians in the rear. Again, what choice did they have?

Abrazimir gave a low, distasteful scoff when the spy produced an alcoholic flask, to dangle before Addhor. ”Let’s just get this over with…” Abrazimir finally spoke up, the key tucked in his boot, his wrists outstretched to be shackled. Willingly, he was returning to the state of an oars slave, a most miserable and dreadful fate for one such as him. He would have to do it too, for a time, the oaring and sailing. ”Isys, you remember the Lay?” Of course she did, he had been singing it and that’s how she found him. ”When I walk out that door, I will begin again in my mind. Upon it’s conclusion, I will make my move.” He informed her, indirectly telling her to do the same, so as to have a sense of timing perhaps. Sing the song in their thoughts and a little under a half hour later, they might conclude at the same time. And he would strike.

It was time to go. A prisoner. A slave. A worthless nobody. It was hard to look and act beaten. It was dangerous to try and pretend. He kept his jaw down, tried not to clench to give sign of his inner defiance. He made eye contact with no one. Not even dare a look towards the sea if it ever came in sight. Below decks was the rowers hall, where eighty-nine other enslaved men and women of Gondor, were chained in benches. Four a row, two on either side of a long narrow aisle that went up and down the middle. Their backs to the vessel’s bow, in unison to a drummer, with a blade at his hip, who sat near the hatchway above, they pulled on their oars and drove the Scythe forward. Another roamed up the central aisle, with a whip in hand and a curved sword at his side. Every now and then, he would deliver motivation to an rower, regardless if they were on point or slacking.

The long timers did not hiss or shriek anymore. But the newcomers…

There was a spot just for Abrazimir. And despite his compliance, the Overseer was happy to lay on the lash to drive him into his spot. Over and over, the burning hot lash struck Abrazimir’s shoulder and back. And not being used to such agony, he did hiss and gasp, baring his teeth, but willing himself to keep his eyes down, keep his gaze downcast, to show himself as beaten. He was locked next to a similar fellow, chained to his oar, his face blank and broken as he seemingly spent the remainder of his life…rowing. Rowing, and starving, and being beaten, over and over and over again.

”Remember the day well, scum.” The Overseer growled at Abrazimir with a sadistic grin. ”Every year, on this wondrous anniversary, we shall remind ourselves, with glorious pomp, your place in life.” He said and delivered one last strike to Abrazimir, lashing across his face, and drawing a long cut of blood on his jaw. ”Now, row!” The Overseer yelled, before turning about to continuing his pacing up and down the aisle, repeating the command, whipping those he thought to be slacking, or merely deserving. Row! Row! Row!

Abrazimir rowed. And hummed the lines of the Lay of Nimrodel. Each stanza in turn, with a brief pause before each, that would, in performances, be accompanied by a swell of music and instruments. He rowed, feeling the burn and ache in his muscles, as though he might be used to labour and hardships, there was nothing that prepared one for this. Newcomers would naturally tire as they struggled to work up the stamina for such an ordeal. And naturally…they would be…motivated.

And twenty and four minutes later to the second he had left that guarded room, away from his kin and people, Abrazimir concluded the song. He had not been complacent either, humming and rowing. In his mind’s eye, he had kept track of the pacing Overseer, how long it took for him to go from one end to the other, how many paces it was. The Drummer too took his breaks, from beating the drum, to stretching and rolling his shoulders. Occasionally he would drink. Good. He would be slow. Motivated, but slow. Abrazimir was midway from the front, where the ladder was to the hatchway that led to the deck, and the rear. The Overseer passed him, and Abrazimir counted, and true to form, the Overseer returned and went by Abrazimir.

Now the clock was ticking. Abrazimir ceased his rowing and quickly dipped his hand into the side of his boot, retrieving the key he had been given. With haste, never taking his eyes off the Overseer and Drummer ahead, who didn’t seem to notice, Abrazimir hurriedly unlocked his shackles, though he left them resting on his wrists. He had to be careful not to let them drop, so as to raise a ruckus that could draw attention. He slipped the key back into his boot and only then did he looked around. No one else seemed to notice…except the man beside him, who was looking at Abrazimir wide-eyed and shocked.

”Amroth for Gondor,” Abrazimir just whispered and continued to row, as the Overseer reached the front, turned, and started to come back. Abrazimir kept his eyes down, for the last time, looking like a beaten dog. And when the Overseer walked by, passing by one, two paces…Abrazimir sprang up. He leapt up, turned, and grabbed the back of the Overseer’s head even before he could turn to see the commotion. With a lunge, Abrazimir first slammed the Overseer’s face into a nearby wooden column, then threw him back and kicked at his legs to trip him backwards, slamming the back of the Overseer’s head on the bench. Out. Cold.

The Drummer leapt up in shock and amazement. He should have called for help, but drink had dulled and slowed his mind. And Abrazimir had turned and was already racing headlong at him, now gripping the Overseer’s curved blade. The Drummer drew his own blade and moved to meet Abrazimir’s charge. But at the last second, Abrazimir ducked and rolled into the Drummer’s legs, causing him to trip over Abrazimir and fall. They both scrambled for a moment to find purchase on one another. And direct their blade into a soft place on their foe. But…the Drummer was suddenly restrained, as the oar slaves on either side, despite their chained, narrow reach, both seized at him, one pulling his hair, the other his arm, restraining him, and allowing Abrazimir to jab his blade right into the man’s neck.

For a fierce moment, the Drummer struggled and hissed bloody teeth in defiance. But Abrazimir pressed down on him, so intently, that his forehead pressed to the Dummer’s. They looked at one another, eye to eye, and Abrazimir didn’t let up pressure on the blade until he saw the last gleam of life leave the other man’s eyes. The other man’s…sea-grey eyes.

With a gasp, Abrazimir fell back, panting hard. And soon the voices of the many slaves started to pick up in amazement, fear, and shock as they realized what happened. ”Shhh!” Abrazimir snapped at them. ”They will hear us. And come down here. And kill us.” He warned them. ”We must continue the pretense. Row, row!” He urged them, though it killed him inside to have to tell them that. Turning to the nearest slave, Abrazimir produced the key to free his shackles, before handing him the key itself. ”Free the others. But all, keep rowing. Row, until we’re all freed. Then, we will move.” He assured them, glancing up to the hatchway above.

No sound, no alarm. They hadn’t been discovered yet. It would take time to free the other eighty-eight chained oar slaves. Abrazimir meanwhile grabbed the Dummer’s head gear and went to sit in his spot, occasionally drumming out a beat to make it seem business as usual, to anyone above decks that might be listening in. And the rowers, chained or yet-to-be-freed, continued to row. Until they were all free.

But now, there was ninety of them, men and women, half starved and beaten, but hopeful. And two swords, two whips, and a knife between them. What were they doing to do? In every face Abrazimir seemed to see the same resolve though. No one wanted to keep doing this.

”We’re going to free ourselves. We’re going to seize this ship and sail home.” Abrazimir told them their objective. ”We outnumber our captors, but they are well armed. Many of us may perish. But having seen what the alternative is…” he gestured to the oars and the chains, ”it will be a sweet ending. And we may take some of the pirates with us. What say you?”

”Aye,” came a chorus of responses, from the majority of them. And those who may have had their tongues cut out as a punishment nodded.

There was not much in the way of preparations to be made. Once that hatchway was open, they could ascend the ladder, two at a time, and storm the decks. Most of the crew would be scattered about the ship, engaged in some activity or work. Not all would have their weapons close at hand. ”When we break out, try to stick together. Form a bridgehead. Our strength is in our numbers. If we divide and scatter, we’ll be cut down. If you are face to face against an armoured opponent, drag them overboard. They will sink. Ready, now…?” And turning to the ladder, there was time left only for a prayer. Valar be with us. Lady Uinen, do not let me bring ruin to my people. Welcome those who might fall into your depths as friends and kin…

And then he began to climb, pushing open the hatchway, and feeling the hot Umbarin sun on his face. He climbed out and…nothing. There were Corsairs about, but many were faced away or indeed engaged in some work. No one noticed the lone vagabond clamber out from below deck. Others soon began to gather. One, three, five, nine, it was becoming crowded. And when the nearest pirate, who was looking out over the railing, for the ship was going to once more check upon the destroyed vessels and see if there was anything to scavenge, began to turn…Abrazimir rushed him. The Corsair turned, eyes turning wide when he saw a dozen escaped slaves congregating on the deck, at the foot of the stern bastion, and screamed an alarm. Right before Abrazimir tackled him and lifted him up with a roar and tossed him over the railing.

Now every corsair and pirate would know there was a slave break. Shouts were made. Some grabbed their weapons, rushing headlong to attack the small group of slaves, weaponless, but growing in number as more popped out of the hatches. What could they do, as twelve armed pirates rushed a group of twenty unarmed escapees? Abrazimir engaged one in a sword fight, but he was the only one, the other sword in the hands of a slave still trying to encourage others to go up and fight. Some slaves thought if they stayed still, sat in their place, and didn’t move…they wouldn’t be punished.

The dozen pirates rushed the group, who could only feebly raise their hands in a pitiful defence as the first sword blow took out a Gondorian, his chest and face gashed with a bloody mark. But that was all it took for the dam to break. Fury overcame fear. No one wanted to go back to how it had been. One Corsair with a sword hacked and slashed, but the moment he overextended, four hands grabbed him and dragged him under. They tore him apart, with clawing, ripping, even biting. How could these men and women thus fear the blade and death by the sword, when the only other option was a slower death by the whip and rowing? Passion for escape and freedom became their weapon. Their shouts became more guttural and violent than those of the pirates. More and more slaves continued to pour onto the deck. And move out from the hatchway, up the rear bastion, and across the midships towards the bow bastion, where the captain’s quarters would be located.

But the escaped slaves, for all their conviction, were still outmatched. They died in droves, two or three to a pirate. But for every downed pirate, a new warrior was birthed from the escapees, as he or she became armed, with this conviction, ready to avenge all hurts and bitter losses. And there was Abrazimir, in the midst, fighting with his own blade, extolling the others to action. They would seize the ship. They would prevail. And they would return home! He could feel it, as hotly as the rays of the Sun on his face.

The entire ship was soon ablaze with bitter and furious swordfights and grappling. And where the escaped slaves seemed most beleaguered, that was where Abrazimir rushed to, to add his own fury and strength to the fight. Step by step, he had to reach the Captain’s Quarters, where he thought…he might take control of the ship and veer them away from Umbar and towards the north. Towards…home.

[Rillewen]

(Private with @Ercassie)

Jay, with several others
Somewhere on the sea between Harlond’s and Dol Amroth’s harbors
Aboard the Gondorian ship ‘Aearmahalma’
On a dark night in July of present year

An eyeroll was all the response that came when the guard expressed his desire for the Valar to strike them down. Jay's focus was on Arkadhur for now, though he did hear the comments going on around him. He fought the urge to lash out at the guard right then, because he had something else to do at the moment. But his crewmates scoffed and jeered at the Valar-obsessed men for their words, much like they had done to the captain's son whenever he expressed his own belief in the Valar over the past few years.

Meanwhile, Jay waited patiently after presenting Arkadhur with his 'option', giving him a few minutes to think it over. As if he needed it. When Arkadhur stood and declared his willingness to hear out the captain's 'request', Jay smiled in satisfaction. He unlocked the cell door, quite pleased with the fact that he had managed to get the keys handed to him so easily. He could have gotten the doors open without them, but it was so much more satisfying when they cooperated and gave him what he asked for, and it was a bit easier with the key. It took an extra moment to locate the next key that would open his shackles, but soon, Arkadhur was free again. "Welcome aboard." He grinned at Arkadhur. "Excuse me a moment, we've got a few more new friends joining us, it seems." Jay then went to the other cells, where other prisoners had declared their wish to accept the offer.

As he passed up Rurik's cell without so much as a glance, the former crewman protested. "Hey, what about me?" He complained, as a total stranger, arrested for some other crime, was freed instead of him. "Don't forget me, Jay!"

Pausing, Jay let out an almost incredulous laugh as he turned and faced Rurik. "Ohhh, I haven't forgotten you." He assured him. He stepped nearer. "You better believe that neither I, nor Dev, have forgotten you, or him." He nodded toward Borim before narrowing his eyes at Rurik again. "I especially remember how you two decided to try and kill the kid, after Dev specifically said "Do NOT kill him"," He reminded the man, raising an eyebrow. "Sound familiar?"

Rurik fidgeted, clearing his throat. "I.. but.. it wasn't-"

"No," Jay shook his head, cutting off whatever excuse the guy had been going to give. "I will tell Dev that you are here. And that you would like to have another chance," He mentioned, which he thought was beyond generous. "From there, it will be up to Dev if he chooses to give you that chance." He glanced at Borim. "The same for you." He added coldly, then went on to the next cell.

When all interested prisoners had been freed and come to join the pirate's ranks, Jay glanced toward his crewmen who had come down there with him. "You lot, take our guest and new friends topside, would you?" He asked of them. As they began to usher the 'new recruits' and Arkadhur up to the deck where they would be able to cross over to the pirate's ship, Jay turned to take a look at the guard who had spoken earlier, asking if the offer extended to him as well. He walked over to look at them, arms folded over his chest as he stopped just out of arm's reach. He surveyed the two guards and their captain and shook his head as if chiding the one guard for even thinking of such a thing. "You really think I'm going to fall for that?" He asked, scoffing in amusement. "You have nothing to offer our crew, except trouble. The kind we can do without." He declared. They'd finally gotten rid of one troublemaker. They sure didn't need another. "But if I did choose to bring you into the crew," he added with a sly little smile, "it would be for good. Our Captain doesn't tolerate the sort of thing I know you've got in mind," Jay left out the fact that the captain actually had put up with that stuff from his own son, but even that had been.. trying. "so consider yourself lucky.. I'm not even going to entertain the idea of adding you into our crew."

Jay then turned his gaze on the other guard, narrowing his eyes slightly. "The Valar see all, do they?" He asked with scoff. "Maybe they do. But yet, they never actually intervene." He pointed out. At least not in his own experience. "Do they?" His gaze met with the guard standing at the bar, the one he was pretty sure had spoken the words that had irritated him so much. Jay lowered his voice so that only those in that cell would hear him. "Not even when a woman screamed and pleaded for the Valar to save her and her small child from cruel men who beat her to death, and left her son forever scarred..." His expression was dark as he pointed to the deep scar running down the right side of his face. "If your precious Valar see these things happening, why do they do nothing?" His other eyebrow rose, then he gave the answer for him. "Because, if they exist at all, they do not care." He scoffed and returned his voice to normal volume. "Just as they will not care what happens to any of you." With that, he turned and walked off to follow the others up to the deck. So, maybe that comment had bothered him a bit more than he wanted to admit. Whatever. He paused at the doorway and glanced back with a smirk. "But, who knows... maybe, if you pray hard enough, they might actually come save you?" He suggested patronizingly, then laughed to himself as he went up the steps. He had decided that he would not make a special trip back down here to bring these few on board. If one of the other guys remembered to come down and get them, maybe their prayers would be answered. If not.. oh well.

Up top, the clouds still covered the sky, keeping things nice and dark. A single lantern hung from the prison ship's mast, and there were even fewer lights on the pirate's own ship. But despite the dark, men were busy working, and managed well enough as if they were well practiced at this sort of thing. While Jay and his companions had been down in the ship's brig, the other ship had come up alongside and sat waiting, with lines securing the two ships together. The crew had been busy transferring the Aearmahalma's stock of food and other supplies onto the other ship, taking anything of value or of use, including any weaponry the ship was carrying. After checking the progress of how the transfer of supplies was coming along, Jay found a few of the freed prisoners who had chosen to join the pirate's crew. He gave them some orders, putting them to work to help make the job get done more quickly.

Then he looked around and located Arkadhur. "Looks like they've got this under control now," He decided. The men could handle the rest without Jay supervising, surely. So now he could see to their guest. "Come on, I'll show you to the guest cabin," He motioned to some planks that had been laid across from one ship's deck to the other. "In case you're worried," He smiled faintly at the Umbarian. "Dev wants your help with something... I don't know the details," he added, before there could be any questions. "But I do know that you're to be our guest, not a prisoner." He motioned toward the ship they were about to leave. "So, relax." He smiled in slight amusement. "Anyway, you'll have plenty of time before you even have to decide anything. Dev.. uh, had some things to take care of, but he'll have time to talk with you tomorrow, probably." He informed the man, before motioning for him to go across first. At least he seemed to be complying well enough, and was not protesting anything, Jay noticed.

Once they were both across and on board the pirate ship, Jay led him to the ship's guest cabin, where he could sleep undisturbed through the night. The first mate also ensured that some of the new stock of food, taken from the guards' supply, was given to Arkadhur, along with something to drink to go along with it. It seemed like an amusing turn of things, after all, to give him what food the guards had reserved for themselves, instead of the slop they gave to the prisoners, while the guards would now be the ones taking the prisoner's place.

Before the night was done, any of the Aearmahalma's crew that were not killed were crammed into the Wingolost's brig. There were many who did not take kindly to being locked up in the crew's quarters, their weapons stolen while they slept. Many decided they could overwhelm the pirates by sheer numbers, as soon as the door was opened, and so there was a battle. A few of the pirates died, but many more of the other ship's crew were slain instead, being unarmed and disadvantaged in the dark. Eventually, those who were not yet slain were convinced to surrender, and then herded into the other ship... with many bows and crossbows aimed at them to convince them to remain peaceful.

Once there was nothing, and no one, left on the Aearmahalma worth bringing along, the ship was sent to a watery grave far below the surface. As it sank beneath the waves, the pirates were sailing off for Umbar, where they could unload their recently acquired 'cargo', and then make plans for their next objective. Furthermore, it was to be hoped that perhaps the proximity to Umbar would help with persuading Arkadhur to assist with this upcoming goal. Whether he really would help with this scheme or not, however... that was still yet to be seen.

[Rillewen]

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Trevadir (16) | Ademar, aka "Nâluthor" (18)
Aboard the "Wingolost" - A few hours out of the Umbar harbor
Late summer, 3018

The ship rocked gently as Trev walked up the stairs to the upper deck, sighing quietly to himself. He didn’t know where they were sailing off to this time, but he was beyond glad that they were leaving Umbar. Leaving the horrible market.. the slavers, the Temple.. Pharak.. and Rip. Above all, Trev felt relieved to be leaving him behind. That he didn’t have to endure his taunting anymore, at least until they returned, but that would be months away.

Or so he thought. As Trev emerged onto the deck, looking forward to breathing in the fresh sea air, he stopped in his tracks and stared. A chill crept down the back of his neck as he found himself face to face with none other than Rip, smirking back at him. Right here on the Wingolost.

The two young men looked at one another for a moment, one in shock, the other in amusement. Mar stepped closer and pushed Trev in the chest. “Get out of my way, Trevadwen.”

Frowning, Trev pivoted to one side. “Don’t start that.” He muttered, annoyed by the use of the stupid name the guy had started calling him when they were kids.

Rip stopped and turned back to him. “Or what?” He stepped closer, with all the menacing air that he could muster.

Trev felt his muscles tensing, yet he refused to take a step back. That was exactly what Rip wanted, and he knew it. “Why are you here?” Trev frowned.

“Because I can be.” Rip smiled and pushed him again, advancing casually toward him. “Why? Does it bother you? Are you going to go crying to your Daddy, like a little girl?”

Trev was forced to take a step back, or else lose his balance. But he continued to glare at the bully. “You’d best watch it, you don’t have the priest around to back you up, now.” He warned, trying to feel as if he had some sort of protection here on his father’s ship.. his own ‘territory’, as it were.

“You sure about that?” Rip smiled in a rather unsettling way.

Trev hesitated. He was not sure. He resisted the temptation to glance around, however, feeling as if Rip must surely be pulling one of his ‘jokes’ on him. Pharak wouldn’t have left the temple.. right? But then, he remembered that he had once… he had even come into Minas Tirith and found Nal, and lured him off. He forced himself to maintain his glare and not appear nervous or intimidated. “Do that again, and you’ll regr- hey!” He broke off his intended threat, as Rip, instead of shoving him again, snatched the flute from his belt. Trev lunged after it, but his hand snatched nothing but the air as Rip spun out of his grasp.

“Or.. what were you saying?” Rip asked, backing away out of Trev’s reach, a smirk lingering on his face.

“Give that back, right now.” Trev demanded, moving toward him, his anger showing clearly on his face.

“Now, Trevadwen.. that’s not any way to ask for something, is it?” Rip taunted him, grinning maliciously. He swiftly ducked as Trev leaped forward at him, and then ended up near the railing. His grin turned even more wicked as he held the flute out over the water. “Let’s see if it floats?” He suggested with a cruel eagerness in his tone.

Trev felt his heart clench at the very suggestion, and he froze for a second in near panic. Then he leaped at him, catching Rip off guard by colliding into him. They crashed against the railing. Trev grabbed Rip’s arm, scrabbling to get a grip on his flute. Using his shoulder, Rip shoved him back, but Trev had managed to get a strong grip on Rip’s wrist, and they both staggered backward together. Trev grunted as his back slammed into the nearest mast, Rip’s weight driving him harder into it than if he’d only fallen into it with his own weight. He got his fingers around the cool metal of his beloved, cherished instrument, then Rip slung him around in an effort to break free of him. Trev refused to let go. The two were practically playing tug of war over the instrument.

Both young men tumbled to the deck, still wrestling. They rolled a little further from the edge of the ship, much to Trev’s relief, but he found his opponent rather wily and difficult to pin down, and he seemed as determined to hang onto the flute as Trev was to get it back from him. A punch to the side of his mouth left him seeing stars for a moment, and he tasted blood in his mouth as his lip stung, but he hardly cared about a busted lip right now. As he struggled with Rip, he only really cared about wresting his flute back from his worst enemy. He returned a blow to Rip’s face, and although it hurt his knuckles as he made contact with a cheekbone, he ignored the pain. He hoped Rip’s eye would turn black and blue. “Let.. go!” He demanded, wrenching his flute as hard as he could, trying to twist it out of the other’s grip, but Rip resisted, and somehow twisted his own wrist in such a way that Trev found himself losing his own grip on it, instead.

Trev stuck his thumb under where Rip’s jaw met with his neck, putting pressure on the spot where he knew there were some nerves, pushing the bully’s head further away from himself. Rip laughed and changed positions so that Trev’s thumb lost the pressure point he had been going for. Rip managed to yank his arm away from Trev’s, and the latter feared he was going to fling the instrument away now. He did not, however, and Trev made another lunge to grab for it.

They rolled about on the deck, and soon their scuffle drew attention from a few crew members, who became interested in watching the fight; some called out to their buddies to come watch. Trev caught a glimpse of several men standing around the area, and he thought he heard some of them calling out encouragement or jeering, but he had no idea if they were cheering or jeering at him or for Rip. Either option was a possibility, and he didn’t care enough to try and hear whatever was being said. If he had taken a moment to look, he might have noticed some of the guys making bets with each other about who would win.

For another moment, Trev had his hand on the slim metal instrument, and he swiftly tried to maneuver his hand around to break Rip’s hold on it. Just as he could feel that he was about to get it away from him, Rip brought his knee down hard into Trev’s gut, driving the air out of his lungs. He instinctively wanted to curl up and grab for his stomach, but of course, with Rip pinning him, he couldn’t even if he’d wanted to give in to that instinct. He tightened his grip on the flute even though he struggled to draw in a breath, and swung a fist toward his adversary. He felt it connect, heard Rip grunt in surprise as Trev struck his jaw, and dimly felt some satisfaction in that.

Before Trev could do anything else, Rip’s fist connected with his nose. He yelped in pain and surprise. Rip hit him again, then yanked hard and tore the flute out of Trev’s grasp. Looking up, Trev saw the victorious delight on the other’s face.

Rip raised the weapon/instrument up and swung it down toward Trev, clearly intending to strike his face with it.

Trev reacted instinctively, bringing both hands up to catch the flute as swiftly as he could. It stung his palms as it smacked into them, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad on his hands, as it would have if it’d hit his face. His hands closed instantly around it, and he gave a rough push so that, as Rip went to bring it back for another swing, the motion was redirected and the flute was shoved into his own face, quite forcefully.

Rip’s eyes gleamed with fury now. He shifted his hands so that there was one on either side of the flute, and twisted it sharply, so that Trev couldn’t help but lose his grip on it. Then, shifting his weight, Rip pushed the bar down against Trev’s neck and leaned into it with all his weight.

Trev’s eyes rounded in surprise as he realized what Rip meant to do. He hastily sought for a grip on the flute again, pushing back with all his strength, but Rip had his knee digging into his stomach now, and had managed to gain the upper hand for that one moment. Trev turned his head to one side to try and prevent his entire throat being pressed on. One hand reached up toward his attacker, trying to damage his face somehow, as the other hand struggled desperately to push the flute back away from him.

Mar angled his head away from Trev's hand as he pressed down on his throat all the harder, eagerly watching with strange intensity as his enemy’s struggles began to grow weaker, ignoring Trev’s feeble attempt to push him off. He watched the fight beginning to fade from Trev as he choked, struggling just to draw in a breath of air. His face was getting red. Mar leaned closer, smiling maliciously. “I shouldn't be surprised you couldn’t fight me, considering who taught you to fight.” he murmured, smirking as Trev's squirming faded. “Did he teach you how to get killed by your own weapon, too?” He whispered in Trev’s ear, beyond amused by the coincidence. Soon, he would lose consciousness, and after that...

(tbc...)

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Captain Dev | Trevadir (16) | "Nâluthor" (18)
Aboard the "Wingolost" - A few hours out of the Umbar harbor
Late summer, 3018

“Nâluthor!” Dev’s voice cut through the scene like a knife, hard as steel as he pushed his way through the circle of crew who were gathered around to see the fight. He grabbed the young man’s clothing and yanked him up off of Trevadir, spinning him around to face him. “This is not the time for such behavior,” Dev hissed furiously. “I don't care who you are, you are on my ship now, Nâluthor, and that means you follow my rules. Trevadir is a part of my crew... And I need all of my crew alive, do you understand me?” He glared at the young man, who scowled back, like a toddler who was annoyed at being interrupted in his play time.

Trev, meanwhile, was coughing and choking as he tried to get his breath back. He slowly sat up, wiping wetness from his face. Some of it was involuntary tears that had sprung up as a reaction to being choked.. but the majority was blood. He only half-heard part of what Dev said to Rip; he was too busy coughing and wheezing to hear much besides a word here and there. The crowd of onlookers dispersed about the time the captain showed up, and Trev couldn’t help being reminded of a bunch of schoolboys who’d come to watch a fight at school, and everyone fleeing when the teacher showed up to break up the fight. Incidentally, Rip was usually involved in many of those sort of situations, too.

Slowly, Trev stood up, despite feeling a tiny bit lightheaded, and held onto the nearby mast, which he had earlier had his back slammed into, to steady himself. Meanwhile, his other hand lightly felt of his throat, worried, and wondering if it was possible to have sustained any lasting damage. He’d come very close to blacking out, and he knew he would have been dead a few seconds later if Rip had not been stopped. He was aware that Rip had whispered something to him in that moment, but he'd been too close to the edge of unconsciousness to really pay attention to what it was. In fact, if Dev hadn’t come along when he did… he didn't like to think about it.

Trev slowly drew in a shaky breath and wiped at his bleeding nose with the back of one hand. He leveled a glare toward Rip. “Give me my flute.” He demanded, upset to find it still in his enemy’s grasp. He was also a little annoyed because there was no denying that Dev had saved his life, and he didn't like the fact.

Mar was still glaring sullenly at Dev, practically sulking. Hearing Trev's hoarse demand for his instrument, he turned and narrowed his eyes at Trev. Then, a mischievous little smile tugged at his mouth. “Go fetch it,” He retorted, and flung the instrument toward the edge of the railing, so that it would sail over and into the sea.

Trev, with panic leaping up in his heart, raced to try and catch it, desperation urging him to move faster than he would have thought himself capable. He lunged after it as it seemed to miss his fingers, spinning and flipping through the air. He felt the railing digging painfully into his gut.. but then his fingers grasped the flute just at the last possible second. Before he could relax in relief, his momentum carried him onward, gravity dragging him down and over the railing. Trev knew he’d leaned too far over, and stretched too far out… he was falling overboard!

Just as he was bracing himself for the inevitable, a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him back from the railing. Letting out a little breath of relief, Trev found his feet on the deck once more, and clutched his precious flute close to his chest as he turned and found Dev scowling at him.

“Don’t ever do anything that stupid again, you hear me?” Dev snapped, shoving Trev a little away from him once he was back on the deck. "You fall overboard, and it's not just swimming you gotta worry about," He warned him. "You never know when there might be sharks about, or other dangerous sea creatures." He looked from Rip to Trev, taking a slow breath to maintain his temper. He turned to Trev first. “You, go on back to your work, and keep away from our passenger from now on. Is that clear?” He scowled at Trev, clearly quite irritated by the whole matter.

Trev’s mouth dropped open, stunned that Dev seemed to be taking Rip’s side in all of this! He immediately brought his free hand up to wipe some blood from under his nose, coughed, then frowned back at Dev. “Tell him to stay away from me.” He retorted, equally irritated by this entire turn of events. Casting another dark glare toward Rip, Trev spat out some blood that had gotten into his mouth before storming off in fury. He headed straight for Norui’s cabin, first. His nose was bleeding heavily, and his lip was also bleeding, and he wanted to make sure his throat was alright; he’d sounded a bit hoarse when he spoke. He also need a little time to cool down and recover from the shock of finding Rip, of all people, on board the Wingolost.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Captain Dev | "Nâluthor" (18)
Aboard the "Wingolost" - A few hours out of the Umbar harbor
Late summer, 3018

After Trev had stormed off, Dev turned to Nâluthor and leveled a scowl at him as well. “Come with me. We need to talk.. in private.” He declared, before ushering the young man off to his quarters where they could talk in private. Both his tone and expression left no room for argument, and Nâluthor sullenly went along with him. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Dev turned to face Nâluthor, folding his arms over his chest. “Just what do you think you were doing?” He inquired, clearly not pleased in the slightest.

Nâluthor folded his arms and huffed. “He attacked me.” He declared, then shrugged. “I just.. got a bit carried away, defending myself.” He added in his best innocent tone.

“Carried away, huh?” Dev narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing this at all. “It looked to me like you were far too eager to kill him.”

Nâluthor smiled and shrugged. “Well, I thought perhaps Lord Zigur would favor our mission better, if I offered him a sacrifice as we set out.” he shrugged. “Besides. Isn’t that the plan anyway? To-”

“Not on my ship,” Dev cut him off, his frown deepening. “I agreed to transport you to this island, but that does not give you the right to assault a member of my crew, no matter who it is, or what grievances you have against him.” Dev narrowed his eyes angrily and he dropped his voice a bit. “The time is not yet right. When it is.. it will happen at the temple. Not here.” He drew in a slow breath and frowned at Nâluthor. “Perhaps, if you’re a really good boy, Pharak will let you be involved when that time comes." He added, his voice becoming patronizing for a moment, before returning to the hard tone from before. "But until then, you will refrain from further actions of violence against Trevadir or any other of my crewman, as long as you’re on my ship.” He decreed sternly. “If you cannot control yourself, perhaps we need to make other arrangements.”

Nâluthor sighed, folding his arms. “It’s not my fault. He is way too easy to provoke, you know.” He shrugged. “It’s like he was asking for it…”

Dev held back a sigh, resisting the urge to press his fingers to his temples. Seriously.. he had to wonder why children and youths always had to be so irritating... did they practice being nuisances? Did they take lessons on how to be as annoying as possible? Despite his thoughts, Dev maintained a stern look at the young man, who was only a couple of years older than his son. “I don’t care.” He retorted. “Just keep away from him, Nâluthor. I mean it.” Dev repeated. "Is that clear?”

“And what if I don’t?” Nâluthor wondered, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

Dev took a step nearer so that he stood over the younger man. “I don’t advise pushing your luck with me, Nâluthor.” He told him in a low, threatening manner. “I don’t care if you are Pharak’s new pet. You give me enough reason, and I’ll toss you off this ship quicker than you can blink. What I told Trev about the sharks was no exaggeration, either. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’re in good with the priest,” He warned him. “You’re on my ship, far from anyone who has any investment in your staying alive.. I highly doubt anyone on board would care if I decide you should take a swim with the sharks.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Nâluthor countered, narrowing his eyes at the pirate.

Dev merely smiled. “And why shouldn’t I ‘dare’? There’s plenty of things that can happen to an overeager young man out at sea. Storms.. accidents.. mistakes made from inexperience..” He shrugged. “If we return without you, do you think Pharak would really care that much? Do you think he would bother to question it, if I told him there was some accident, or that you fell overboard, or whatever story I feel like giving him?” He asked with a sly smile.

Nâluthor glared at him silently for a moment, weighing his words while he watched him, but he had to admit to himself that Dev had a good point.. and he was quite outnumbered here. It was clear that the pirate was absolutely serious. "What do you care, anyway? You hate him almost as much as I do." He pointed out.

"That's beside the point." Dev replied dismissively. "If the ritual is going to work, he must be unharmed.. you know that. And it must be done at exactly the right time. I've waited a long time for this, Nâluthor, and I will not let some impatient boy with a grudge mess it all up for me, is that clear?"

The two gazes locked for a moment, before the younger relented. “Fine,” Nâluthor sighed after a moment’s pause. “I’ll leave.. Trevadir.. alone, for the remainder of this voyage.” He agreed grudgingly, having mild difficulty in making himself use Trev’s proper name, rather than the one Nâluthor preferred to call him.

Dev nodded in satisfaction and relaxed his stance a little. “Good. Then we can get along.” He replied, his tone lightening a bit.

“It will be very difficult, though.” Nâluthor warned the captain. “I was so close..” He lamented, throwing his hands up in frustration and sighing at how close he had come to finishing off another of his enemies.

Dev rolled his eyes. “Consider it a test of patience. Isn’t that what Pharak usually says to you?” he mentioned, then switched to a more businesslike tone. “Now then.. the reason I was on the deck is that I was actually looking for you,” he informed the overzealous temple acolyte.

"Oh?" Nâluthor was still unhappy, but he grew a bit curious. "What for?"

“I need you to show me where it is I’m supposed to be taking you. Take a look at my maps and point out the area to me, will you?” Dev waved a hand toward the navigational charts and maps spread out on his desk, and with that, the two put the tense matter behind them as they discussed their destination.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Trevadir(16) & Renia(16)
Late Summer, 3018 - An island near the Jewel Coast
(a week or two later)

Trev stooped and picked up a seashell, turning it over slowly in his hands. It was large and white, with thin, colorful stripes going all around the outside. The thing spiraled around itself, opening wide at the end, showing its inside to be a soft pink hue. The other end narrowing into a point, and it almost looked like some very fancy horn. He smiled faintly and held the open, flared part to his ear, listening briefly with his eyes closed. It wasn’t quite the sound of the ocean, as many claimed it would. More like, a soft music echoed from deep within, as if some tiny creature inside were whispering. Or, perhaps, as if he were hearing whispers from one of the Valar… He listened harder, trying to imagine what this little echoing voice might be saying, and even wondered if this could be an Ulumúri, and maybe the Valar were whispering secrets or something…

“Boo!”

The sound of the shout behind him startled Trev. He jumped and whirled around as his heart nearly leaped out of his chest, arm raised defensively as he wielded the shell as if he might use it for a weapon… before letting out a laughing breath of relief when he saw who it was. “Renia!” He grinned as she flung her arms around him, laughing merrily. Hugging her joyously in return, Trev closed his eyes tight for a moment, fighting the lump that rose up in his throat. She couldn’t have had any idea just how much he needed a hug right then. But that was one of the things he loved about her; she always seemed to give him exactly what he needed, even when she wasn’t physically there. Often, without even knowing it.

Stepping back, a big smile stretched across his face. “What are you doing here?” He wondered. Suddenly a little concerned, he glanced around, wondering where the rest of the crew were. Nowhere in sight, thankfully.

“Well… that’s a long story,” She shrugged, adjusting a straw hat she was wearing. Then, taking a look at him, she frowned slightly. “What happened to your lip?”

Trev’s hand automatically came up to touch his lip which was still healing. “Oh.. nothing worth mentioning.” He shrugged, reluctant to tell her about his near-death experience at Rip’s hands.

“If you say so..” She eyed it for a moment longer before dropping the matter. “I saw your ship, and I came looking for you. I’m so glad to see you!”

“That might’ve been dangerous,” Trev warned her, with a small frown of concern. They were from rival ships, after all. Neither her captain, nor his, were likely to ever become allies. He’d heard that there was some sort of history there between them, but he didn’t know the tale behind it. But aside from that, he knew his father’s crew, and worried about what could have happened to her if any of them had spotted her.

“You think I’m really that reckless?” Renia rolled her eyes. “I watched from the woods until I saw all your crew go off, and then I saw you wander out here alone.” She smiled, putting hands on hips as if to challenge him to accuse her of not being careful.

“Alright,” He gave in with a small grin. “But, still, we’d better be careful. And I hope Dev won’t find out your people are here.. and vise-versa.” He frowned a little.

“Oh, um. It’s just me, actually.” She informed him with a little shrug. “And I’ve learned to be pretty good at hiding. So, I should be fine. But what are you guys doing here?”

“Um,” Trev hesitated. “I don’t know. Dev’s brought a.. passenger here, he had some sort of.. um, business to do, here, I guess.” He scowled toward the ship that he could see off in the distance. “No idea what this business is about. Captain said I’m supposed to stay on the ship. But, I figure it should be alright if I stay close to the ship. I wanted to explore.. and I needed to get away for a bit.” He explained, frowning a bit at what she had said about being here alone, but didn’t get a chance to ask more about it right away.

“I don’t blame you!” She exclaimed, her blue eyes wide. “I’d hate to be stuck on the ship while everyone else gets to explore. That’s so unfair!” She let out a little ‘hmph’ as she cast a disapproving frown toward the ship as well.

Trev grinned, glad someone understood, at least. “I’m sure it’ll be more fun with you here.” he mentioned, happy to see a friendly face at last.

Renia turned back to him with a smile, then spotted the shell he was holding. “Oh, that shell is gorgeous!” She exclaimed, gently taking it from his hand. There was really no need to ask, as he gave it up willingly. “Sometimes I wonder if mermaids use these for instruments,” She mentioned, holding it up to her ear with a little smile. “Do you think so?”

Trev’s smile widened, marveling that she would think such a thing. “Perhaps. I’m not sure if mermaids really exist, but… I was kind of… I guess pretending.. that it could be an Ulumúri,” He shrugged, and laughed. “Let me see?”

“What’s an Ulumúri?” She wondered as she gave it back, watching as he put it to his lips and blew/

Trev put her question on hold while he tested whether he could make any music from it. A soft note came from it, bringing a little flicker of joy to his heart. After trying a few ways of blowing, employing a sort of hum into it, he found that he could change the pitch a little bit. “Well, it seems music is possible with it!” he grinned. “As for Ulumúri?” he recalled her question. “They are the great horns of the Lord of Waters, Ulmo.” He explained. “It’s said that the great Vala Ulmo would blow these horns whenever he came near any coasts or other water, and all who heard them immediately longed for the Sea, and could never forget what they heard.” He shrugged and handed it back to her. “I don’t think it is one of those, though. You take it, Renia.” He smiled at her. It wasn’t like he’d have anywhere to keep it, after all. “Perhaps the mermaids use these to communicate with each other. Maybe you could befriend one,” He laughed, but he didn’t think he’d be terribly surprised if she did manage something like that. It seemed like she could befriend just about anyone, in his opinion.

“Aw, thanks.” She smiled warmly at him as she took the shell back, then took his hand with her other. “Let’s do some of that exploring then, shall we?” She suggested with that adventurous light in her bright blue eyes.

Trev grinned. “Sure, let’s go.” He took a quick glance back toward the ship, just visible around the curve of the beach. They were out of sight from the sentries, thankfully. If only they had been close to Gondor, he might have considered just taking off and leaving for good. But instead, they were on an island out in the middle of the ocean. There was nowhere to go, sadly. “But hey,” he remembered, turning back to her. “Where are your crew? You said you’re here by yourself?” He glanced at her curiously.

“I’ll tell you later,” She promised, carefully placing the shell on the beach where it would be above the tide line, and safe from the waves. “We’ll come back for that later,” She declared, smiling.


Strolling along the beach, hand in hand, Trev couldn’t help glancing over at her now and then, admiring how her blond hair tumbled in waves down her back, gleaming golden in the warm morning sunlight. The hat shading her face from the bright rays cast a finely-woven shadow pattern across her features. “Where’d you get the hat?” He wondered, curious since she hadn’t had it the last time he saw her.

“Made it, actually.” She declared proudly. “Out of some grass and stuff I found growing here. Figured it’d be a good idea to shade myself from the sun, as hot as it gets on this little island.” She laughed lightly. “I get sunburned if I’m not careful.”

“Nice.” He smiled, impressed she had done such a good job. “Very creative.”

“So, how’s things been?” She asked, side-stepping a small hermit crab that was scuttling along the beach.

Trev hesitated, his thoughts flashing back to the awful times he’d endured since he last saw her. The beatings he’d recently taken from the crew, because he’d sabotaged an assault on a merchant ship the other day. Being locked up in the brig for two days to prevent him from signaling another ship that there was danger near.. and then the fact he’d been assigned to cleaning the waste buckets every day for months on end. Worse still, getting scurvy, being chased through the harbor by those soldiers, and getting set on fire by a flaming missile… and after that, their last trip to Umbar, when his father had threatened to sell him to that awful slaver if he didn’t do as he ordered. And then, to top all of that, nearly getting killed by Rip, with his own beloved instrument! But he didn’t want to tell her any of that. “Fine,” He answered as casually as he could manage. “And you, how have you been?”

“Good enough..” Renia tilted her head, glancing at him. “You sure you’re fine, Trev?” She asked.

“Yeah.. why?” he stopped, turning to look at her questioningly.

“It’s just.. I don’t know. You look..” She hesitated, as if struggling for the right words. “Skinny, is all.” She lightly poked his ribs. “You need to eat more. And,” she motioned to his lip. “there’s that.”

Trev forced a smile at that. “Oh, right. Well, I.. was a bit sick a while back,” He shrugged. That was true enough, although it had been a couple of months ago by now. “And I got into a fight recently, that’s what this is from.”

“Ah,” Renia nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad you’re not hurt too badly.” She smiled slightly at him, then thought for a moment before brightening with a thought. “Did you get my note, by the way?” She asked with a hopeful look in his direction.

Trev’s face lit up a bit more at that. “Yes, I did!” He answered her happily. “That was a wonderful poem, and I cherish it.” He told her honestly.

“Really? Well, I’m glad,” She smiled, squeezing his hand lightly. “I was hoping you’d like it. Did you fix anything in it? And give it music?”

“Only a little tweaking,” he laughed lightly. “Just a word here and there, to make it flow a little more smoothly and fit with the tune...” He smiled. “And yes, I did give it music. I’ll teach it to you now if you like?”

“Great! Maybe later,” She suggested. “I’ve got a better idea for right now! Let’s go, come on!” She grinned, taking his hand, and urged him to run with her.

“Where are we going?” Trev laughed, curious as he hurried to keep up.

“You’ll see!” She called out as she kept running.


The two ran along the beach, for the moment, happy and carefree as young children. Trev soon found himself grinning as he ran to keep up with her. The sand was wonderfully warm and damp beneath his bare feet, and he was out of breath, and a little hot by the time she came to a stop. They stood for a moment beneath a strange-looking tree, panting for breath.

“Alright, so what was so important?” He laughed, leaning against the tree.

“You’re leaning on it!” Renia grinned proudly, laughing lightly while she took a breather after all their running.

Turning his gaze upward, Trev shielded his eyes from the warm tropical sun, and beheld some sort of fruit high up in the tree top. “What is it?” He asked, squinting at the yellow clusters above his head. “Is that.. bananas?” He asked with surprise.

“Bananas, yes!” She confirmed. “Of course, you have to climb up to get them...”

“Looks easy enough,” He observed, inspecting the tree. “Is this a trick?” he asked with a slightly suspicious glance toward her, but he was smiling.

“No! Of course not.” She laughed. “I just thought, you know. In case you’re hungry..” She shrugged.

Trev smiled at her, half-tempted to place a kiss on her forehead, but then thought better of it, and turned back to the tree. “Right.” He grabbed hold of the trunk and swiftly climbed up the slender trunk, as if he were climbing a pole or something. It was easy enough, with the climbing he did so often on the ship, and his prior experience with climbing trees back home in the Pelennor. Reaching the lowest of the banana bunches, he reached up and grabbed one, breaking it off. “Catch!” he called down, tossing it. Renia deftly caught it, he noticed, pleased, before turning to get another. When he climbed down, he had tossed down about six of the things.

“Here,” Renia offered him one that she had already got peeled for him. “I’ve already had plenty, but you go ahead” She smiled and sat down at the base of the tree.

Trev joined her, munching on the banana. Truth be told, he hadn’t eaten in a while. Supplies had been running low, and, admittedly, he had cost them the chance to restock their food supplies from the merchant’s ship recently. So, on top of the beating, it had been decided that Trev would simply go without when rations were shortened. Perhaps, he could earn back a bit of favor now, he thought idly, hoping maybe the others would stop being angry at him if he showed them where they could find some good, fresh fruit. “So, this is where these come from, when they get imported to Gondor’s markets?” He asked, taking up a second banana, curious. “I’ve had them before, but they’re rather expensive by the time they get brought in from wherever the merchants get them, and my grandma usually couldn’t buy things like that. I’ve never seen where they grow, though.”

“I guess so.” Renia answered, shrugging. “Here, or other tropical places like this.” She observed him finish off the second banana. “You are hungry, aren’t you?” She glanced at him thoughtfully. “Careful not to eat too many at once. And, there’s lots of fruit around here, if you want to find it.” She informed him with a smile.

“What else is there? Can you show me?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sure!” She hopped up and held out her hand to him. “Come on.”

---

A few hours went by as the pair traipsed about the island, exploring all the many options of fruit that grew here. She showed him where to find many other different fruits, as well as some root vegetables, and all the things she had been living on for the time she’d been there.

“This is great,” Trev was sitting on a fallen log, licking the papaya juice from his fingers after finishing the fruit. He leaned back, sighing as he stretched his legs out on the wide tree trunk, one ankle crossed comfortable over the other. His stomach felt full for the first time in.. a while.

“Isn’t it?” Renia smiled, and sat on the ground with her back leaned against the tree, so that their heads were near each other.

Trev wondered if she was referring to the enjoyable morning, or the fruit. Since she hadn’t really eaten much, he liked to think she was thinking of the company, and he smiled faintly and folded his hands under his head. With the sun shining down on his face, he turned his head to the side, toward her. He closed his eyes to try and block out the sun. A moment later, something rested on his face, so he opened his eyes swiftly, only to relax when he saw that it was only Renia’s hat. He smiled, pushing it lightly up to a better position to block the sunlight. “Thanks,” He mumbled, feeling drowsy.

“Mhmm,” She hummed softly.

The sound of birds chirping filled the trees. Birds native only to these tropical regions, but birds. Trev smiled softly as he listened to the various patterns. Each one made its own kind of music, he thought, happily listening to them as the morning passed in pleasant peacefulness.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Trevadir(16) & Renia(16)
Late Summer, 3018 - An island near the Jewel Coast

“Trev,” Renia’s urgent-sounding voice woke him suddenly, nudging his shoulder, with a little shake.

Trev jolted slightly, heart racing as he scrambled to sit up and figure out what was going on. “Huh?” He snatched the hat from his face and looked around in alarm. Renia was crouched beside the log, her blue eyes wide. The angle of sunlight had shifted, now coming from the other side of him. He wondered how much time had passed, but whatever had Renia sounding alarmed seemed much more important to think about at the moment. “What is it?” he asked in a whisper.

“I think your captain is nearby,” She whispered.

Trev swiftly rolled off of the log and crouched beside her. “Where?”

“Over there,” She pointed. “I heard voices, and sounds like.. chopping a path through the woods, you know?”

“Yeah,” He murmured, nodding. He rubbed his eyes, then stuck the hat on his head and peered through the leaves, hoping the hat would hide his face somewhat.


“Let’s try this way,” The sound of his father’s voice rang clear through the foliage. Trev glanced at Renia, a bit worried. He remembered, suddenly, that he was not supposed to have left the ship, and inwardly cringed. How much time had passed? Had they come back to the ship and found him gone? How much trouble was he in, he wondered. Holding his breath, Trev and Renia crouched down lower as Dev, Rip, and some of the crew filed into view, following the lead of the boatswain, Samroth, who cut a path with his scimitar.

The whole troop of pirates marched past, unaware of the two teenagers hiding behind the log. “How much longer we gonna be out here, captain?” Scar grumbled, slashing at some leaves with his weapon.

“As long as it takes.” Dev answered with a hint of annoyance in his tone. Were they looking for Trev? The young man in question watched nervously, holding his breath.

“Why do we have to be out here, trekking through all these trees and stuff, anyway?” Another man complained, wiping sweat from his brow.

Rip whirled to glare at the guy, clearly irritated. “Because I’m paying you to help me look, that’s why.” he retorted. “Now shut up and help me search, if you want any part of what that money.”

"Alright, alright.." The man held up his hands slightly, and they continued onward. The rest of their words faded beyond hearing as the group moved on.

Trev watched until the last one had passed, and the forest had gone quiet again, before releasing a breath that he’d been holding.

“What are they after?” Renia wondered, whispering as she craned her head around to watch their departure into the thick woods.

Trev paused. “I don’t know. I thought, at first, they might be looking for me, but that…” He paused, thinking back to what Rip had said about searching for something. He knew they’d come to this island for some sort of reason involving him, but he didn’t know what it was. “Maybe they’re looking for treasure." He suggested thoughtfully, as he couldn't think of any other thing Rip would be looking for.

“Treasure?” Renia turned to look at him with intrigue.

"Dev didn’t tell me why we were here, just that we had some business involving that guy, and he wanted me to stay on the ship so I wouldn’t "ruin anything",” He frowned, slightly disappointed to realize that maybe he’d been left out of some exciting treasure hunt. But then again, he wasn’t the least bit disappointed to not have to be around Rip even for a moment. Spending time with Renia had been way better, and well worth being left out of whatever it was they were doing.

“We should follow them!” She started to rise up, excited at the idea of treasure.

“No..!” Trev hastily caught her arm and pulled her back. “No, Renia. Don’t go anywhere near them.” He warned her, half-panicked. "It's not safe!"

“Trev,” She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean we’d go running after them yelling ‘wait for us!’. I meant ‘sneak along after them, and see where they’re going’. They're not exactly hiding their tracks, you know.” She pointed out.

Trev hesitated, feeling uneasy about this plan. “I don’t know. That guy.. they one who said he’s paying them.. he’s really, really bad news,” He told her, frowning. “It’s definitely best to keep well away from him…”

“Oh, come on,” She begged. “It’ll be exciting. They’ll never know we’re there. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

‘Back home, with Nal, or maybe buried with Ryn,’ Trev thought vaguely, but pushed that thought way down deep. No. He would not become like Cali had, after Ryn’s death. He paused for a moment, then managed a faint smile. “Alright, but we have to stay well back. I don’t want to risk them finding out we're here.. especially you. Not only would I get in big trouble, but..” he hesitated. “You'd be endangered, too.”

Renia smiled and hopped up, pulling on his arm. “You’re sweet, thinking of my safety, Trev. But I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I’m sure you can, but…” Trev frowned. “Trust me, Renia. You don’t want them to get ahold of you.” He hoped he wouldn’t have to spell out what he meant, as he really didn’t want to think about that at all. “Especially not that guy.”

Renia looked at him for a moment, a tiny glimmer of sadness showing in her eyes for a brief second before she shook her head slightly, and it vanished as she smiled softly at him. “I’m glad you aren’t like them. But I can’t figure out why you stick with them, Trev.”

Holding back a sigh, Trev pushed the hat further down on his head. “Yeah… I’m glad I’m not, either.” He answered quietly, leaving the second part alone. It was too complicated to try and explain. He set off cautiously through the forest, letting Renia follow if she wanted to.

She didn’t ask him any more about it, but kept up. “You realize that’s my hat, right?” She asked with a little smirk.

“Sure, but I’m taking it over for a bit.” He grinned teasingly, somewhat relieved for the change in subject.

She huffed playfully. “Fine. You can wear it until we part ways. But then, I want it back.”

He grinned a little wider. “Sure.” He had been mostly just teasing her, and had expected that she might try a little harder to request it back, so it was a bit of a surprise that she gave in so easily. He would definitely give it back whenever she asked for it, but for now, he was amused to keep it.


“So.. Trev,” Renia spoke up tentatively after a moment. “I was thinking, while you were napping. What if, when you guys go to leave, I could sneak a ride back to the first port you go to?” She suggested with a hopeful glance up at him.

Trev stopped and frowned at her. “What? Are you crazy?” He asked, a little alarmed at the thought of her being on the ship with all his crew.

“If I stay here alone much longer, I might get that way.” She frowned.

Trev frowned, this time more out of concern. He had forgotten to ask her about that, and now suddenly remembered. His tone softened a bit. “What happened, anyway? Don’t tell me you’ve been marooned?” He asked, eyes widening slightly.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. She continued walking, but more slowly. The pirate’s trail was easy enough to follow that they didn’t have to keep them in sight or earshot. “There was a battle with another ship, out on the sea. You know how it is. We were fighting some corsairs from Umbar, I guess.” She began, frowning a bit.

Trev stared in alarm, holding his breath as he waited to hear how that turned out.

“Anyway, so.. there was a lot of fighting and stuff, and somehow, by the time the ships parted ways, I had wound up on their ship.” She frowned. "As a captive."

“What?! Are you..?” He turned to her, wide-eyed. “I mean.. they didn’t..?”

“Nooo, relax. I’m alright,” She assured him. “Really, they didn’t get a chance to do anything like.. that. I um, played like I had fainted for as long as I could, and then there was a storm, and their ship was already damaged from our attacks,” She smirked at that, “so, the whole crew was really busy getting the ship ready to weather the storm. Anyway, they left me locked up while they went to deal with that, probably figured that I’d still be waiting when they got back.” She shrugged. "But I picked the lock on the door and sneaked out." She smiled proudly before she continued her tale. "After I got out, I wasn't sure what to do at first, but then I saw that there was an island in the distance, just at the edge of the horizon, and so I thought, well, that’s bound to be better than sticking around on this ship waiting for them to do whatever they want with me,” She glanced at him to see how he was taking this story. So far, well enough. She continued, “So, I slipped over the railing into the water and swam toward it before they ever realized I'd escaped. I’ve no idea when they might have discovered I was missing, but I really don't care, either.” She laughed faintly.

“You swam? All that way?” Trev asked, amazed.

“Well, the other options weren’t very appealing, so yeah.” She grinned at him, making light of it all. “I was really tired by the time I collapsed on the sand.. and I was really hoping they wouldn’t think to come looking for me here. But, anyway. I’ve been here a couple of weeks now, and haven’t seen anyone else. The place is totally abandoned, as far as I can tell. I was starting to get worried that I’d be stuck here forever, ‘til I saw your ship coming.” She smiled. “So… hence, why I was hoping maybe I could get a ride back to wherever you’re going next.” She explained.

Trev looked down, his heart sinking a bit. “I..” He hesitated, unsure what to say. “I don’t know, Renia.” He sighed. “It’d be awfully dangerous, but.. I hate to leave you stranded here.”

“I know the dangers, Trev.” She said quietly.

“No, you don’t.” He frowned. “You know that Dev is an enemy of your captain, but you have no idea what he or the crew are like… and on top of that, we have Rip on board right now.” He scowled. “He’s more dangerous than an entire crew of Umbarians, Renia. He..” Trev hesitated and looked at her seriously. “He’s like.. a helper.. apprentice.. type guy, to that evil Blood Priest in Umbar, or something. He's the most horrible person I've ever encountered. I'm serious, Renia.. he’s really, really evil, and cruel and just…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he went off on a rant. “If you stow away on my ship, you have to make absolutely SURE you aren’t discovered. Cause... if you are… I don’t know how much I could help you even if it was just Dev... not to mention the others...”

“Trev. Just leave it to me, alright?” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “You worry too much.” She smiled softly. “It’s sweet that you’re so worried about me, but have a little faith in me, too. Alright?”

“If we end up in Umbar next, there’s no way I’m letting you get off there.” Trev insisted. “Wait ‘til we’re at some Gondorian harbor, maybe.. but not Umbar.”

“Again, talking like I’m stupid.” She teased. “Anyway, let’s forget about all that for now. Come on, let’s see what your crew is up to, huh?” She grinned and set off along the trail that the pirates had left, as Trev hurried to keep up with her.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Trevadir(16) & Renia(16)
Late Summer, 3018 - An island near the Jewel Coast

They followed a safe distance behind the pirates. Always keeping just out of earshot. They’d move a bit closer now and then, enough to hear their voices, and then hang back a little. Their trail was easy to follow, given all the chopping and hacking at the vegetation, but they still had no idea where they were going. Until, at last, they found themselves at the opening for a cave. Trev stopped, hesitating.

“Oooh, a cave!” Renia whispered excitedly, grabbing his arm lightly. “Are we going in? Looks like they did, see?” She pointed to all the footprints in the dust just inside.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Trev murmured back, frowning. “We don’t know how.. Renia!” He broke off his cautionary words in a slight panic as she suddenly rolled her eyes and darted forward into the cave. After a quick glance around, he hastened in after her, catching up to her right as it began to get too dark to see ahead. He bumped into her when she stopped.

“We need a torch,” She whispered, disappointedly.

“You shouldn’t rush into things like that,” He told her, suddenly realizing he sounded very much like his grandmother. Wow. He blinked at that realization, and wondered when he’d become a worrying old lady.

“Well, they must be pretty far ahead, since we don’t hear them, right?” She pointed out. “Come on. We’ll feel the walls, and keep going.” She took hold of his hand and led the way boldly.

Trev drew a deep breath, wondering whether he should be impressed by her bravery, or worried by her recklessness. Or concerned by his lack of the former.

As it turned out, they didn’t have to go very far before they began to notice that they could see a little bit, once their eyes adjusted from the brightness of the daylight outside. Trev glanced around, a little surprised by the faint glow emanating from some sort of stuff on the walls, which became more and more prominent the deeper they went. Soon, they began to hear the sound of voices echoing, from somewhere ahead.

They slowed their pace, fearing that they might come face-to-face with them unintentionally. But soon, the wall fell away to reveal an open area, overlooking a cavern below. Trev swiftly ducked back behind a cluster of stalagmites, motioning for Renia to do likewise. She joined him, peering curiously between two of the pointed rock formations. “What are they doing?” She whispered.

Trev frowned, trying to see. "I don't know," He murmured softly.

“Maybe they're searching for treasure?” She guessed, leaning closer, excited.

Trev shook his head slightly. "No shovels," He mentioned quietly.

"Well, what else would they be doing?" She wondered, puzzled.

“Dunno,” He shrugged. “Shh,” He added softly.

Together they watched the pirates. They were spread out across the large cavern, some crouching by a cluster of rocks, another peering at something on the wall, and so on. Dev and Rip seemed to be overseeing them, but they were too far away for Trev to hear anything they were saying. Occasionally one of the men would bring something over to show them, and seemed to be asking questions.

“What are they looking for?” Renia whispered in his ear.

Trev shrugged, then glanced down and noticed that the path they were on would continue winding downward until they reached the place where the pirates were. He nudged Renia, then nodded back the way they'd come, indicating they should go.

She gave him a questioning look, but thankfully didn’t argue. She nodded, and followed him as they set off back the way they had come.

Once they were heading back down the tunnel, she stopped him and glanced back briefly. “Why’d we have to leave?” She whispered.

“They’ll be coming back this way eventually,” He explained. “I figured it’d be better to get out of there before they start coming, or we’d be caught.”

“But they might be digging up treasure.” She pouted.

“So what? Do you think you can take it away from them, if they did dig something up?” he asked with a little laugh.

“Well..” She hesitated. “No, I guess not.” She sighed, then shrugged. “But I wonder what it was. I wanted to see whatever they found.”

“Maybe it isn’t treasure. It might be something else.” Trev pointed out. “And anyway, I’m more worried about what they might do if they caught us spying,” Trev commented, frowning slightly. He thought it was a bit odd that Dev hadn’t made him come along. Usually, any sort of physical work that needed doing, he’d push Trev in there to 'do his part of the work'. So, was this something he didn’t want Trev to know about? He was thinking about that as he and Renia hurried out of the cave.


“Well, that sure was interesting,” Renia commented. “I’m really intrigued. What is your captain doing?” She wondered.

“I don’t think I want to know.” Trev sighed. “Besides, it's not really Dev.. it's Rip. He's the one behind.. whatever this is." He corrected her, frowning a bit. He was a little suspicious, but then decided that he'd stick with his previous answer. He didn't want to know. "Hey," He changed the subject, "I've got an idea. Let’s go gather some food. We’re sort of low on supplies, so..maybe that’ll help.” He suggested with a smile.

“Oh, really?” She looked a bit surprised. “Yeah, sure! Can’t have you starving,” She nudged his ribs lightly and grinned. “Especially if I’m going to sneak along. I wanna make sure we have enough to spare for me,” She laughed.

Trev grinned in relief as he successfully managed to distract her, and they set off in search of some food. All the way, Renia talked about which things would be best for storing on the ship, which things would keep for a long while. She showed him some plants to dig up for the roots, and they gathered some of these.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, they began to hear the sound of rushing water. Renia grinned at him and hurried ahead. After a moment, Trev heard her call back, “Hurry up! I wanna show you!”

Trev was a bit caught off guard by her abrupt departure, and hurried to catch up despite his load of roots and things that he carried in his shirt. A moment later he emerged from the thick foliage and stopped short at the sight of a wide waterfall that flowed into a vividly blue pool not far below. “Wow.” he gazed around, admiring the beauty of the scene.

A second later, he was surprised to see Renia leaping off from a boulder at the top of the falls, and splashed into the deep part of the pool. He waited, holding his breath for a moment until he saw her head come up. Then he grinned.

“Come on in, Trev!” She laughed.

Trev smiled and laid down his load in a safe place, hesitating briefly before he tentatively put down his flute as well. He put Renia’s hat next to it, then laid down his notebook and hesitated as he glanced around to make sure that no one else was likely to come around. Then he took a deep breath and jumped in after her.

---

Splashing and playing in the water together, they forgot all about anything else, enjoying the cool water, and the afternoon sun. A few hours passed before they finally stretched out on the banks near their stuff, happily relaxing in the sun, munching on a few fruits from the collection they had gathered so far.

“This has turned out to be a really great day,” Trev commented with a smile, lying comfortably on the bank with one arm tucked behind his head.

“One of the best,” Renia agreed. “How long do you think you’ll be staying on the island?” She wondered.

Trev thought about that as he chewed a mouthful of a fruit that he didn't know the name of. “No idea, really.” He answered at last. “He hasn’t told me anything about this business he has here. So, apparently, they’re looking for something in a cave? And maybe searching the entire island, too. That could take days, right? So, yeah. I guess probably a couple of days. Hopefully.” He smiled slightly at her.

“That'd be nice." She replied, thinking for a moment. "Oh, I've got an idea,” Renia held up his flute. “Wanna play something?”

Trev swiftly sat up and grabbed it in a moment of alarm, then paused as he realized that she had not meant any harm. “Sorry,” He apologized in a mumble, a bit embarrassed by his reaction.

Renia blinked, but gave a small nod. “S’alright,” She answered slowly. “I just..”

“No, I..” He cleared his throat, a bit awkward. “It’s just, um. It’s very precious to me, that’s all. I.. don’t like anyone else touching it. And.. I recently had someone try to take it from me, and.. I didn't mean to react like that. I'm sorry.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“...I could play something for you. If you like?” He offered with a little smile, hoping to make up for what he'd done.

Renia smiled slightly. “Yeah, I’d like to hear you play.” She nodded. "You said you put music to that poem, right? What about that?"

Trev smiled. "I did." He twisted the two pieces apart. He could see the mild surprise registering on Renia’s face as she watched him pull the dagger out of its flute 'scabbard'. He laid the dagger next to his leg, out of the way, then grabbed his notebook and flipped through until he found the loose paper he had tucked in between the pages. It was the same paper she had left him with the poem on it. On the back of it, he had written the poem again, only with a few edits to touch it up and flow a bit more smoothly.

Holding the paper so they could both see it, he went through the song a couple of times with her, singing it with her so that she could get familiar with the tune. Once they'd sung it together a few times, he smiled and picked up his flute again. When he began to play, he was happy to hear her singing along. She had a beautiful voice, and he enjoyed hearing her.

When they had gone through that song a couple of times, he switched to another, more common one that he figured most people would be familiar with.

Recognizing it, Renia smiled and began to sing along with that one too. The sun slowly sank below the horizon as the teens played and sang together. It was a beautiful sunset, blending orange and pink and red together, reflecting on the water of the pool. The colors gradually faded into hues of dark pink, purple, and eventually blue as the evening gave way to night.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Captain Dev | "Nâluthor" (18)
An island near the Jewel Coast
Late summer, 3018

"I don't think this is the right island." Mar scowled, frustrated with his lack of success. "Nothing we've found so far matches what I was asked to collect." He folded his arms, frowning at Dev.

"Well, then, we'll try another island." Dev shrugged. "No problem. So long as we don't run out of food, first." he added.

"Where is the next-closest one?"

Dev paused, then did a long, specific whistle. A moment later, his Gyrfalcon swooped toward him, landing on his arm.

Mar watched the pirate as he murmured to the bird, and waited, a bit impatiently, until he finished.

"Not far," Dev answered as he looked back at Mar. "Only about an hour by ship."

"Well then, let's go." Mar wasn't sure whether the man had truly been 'speaking' with the bird, or if he was merely trying to make it appear that way.. but he didn't really care, either.

Dev sighed, glancing out at the island. He had been informed, to his great annoyance, that Trev had wandered off. He had yet to return, and Dev was getting rather concerned about their food supply. And furthermore.. he was quite frustrated at the boy for not doing as he was told. It was an abandoned island, right? So, he smiled faintly to himself. Sure. They could teach him a lesson.

"Alright, let's set sail!" He called, turning to his crew. They could do without Trev for a little bit, and let him get a little worried. He had another thought, then. "Someone bring me an empty bottle." He smirked, and grabbed some ink and paper to write a note.

---

Another island - about an hour's sailing away from the first
Roughly two hours later

Mar studied the flower very carefully, comparing it with the one in the book he had brought along. He smiled slowly. "Yes. This is it." He announced happily. He turned to the men of Dev's crew who had come along to aid him. "Gather all of these that you can find." He instructed to the men. As an afterthought, he added with a little smile, "Oh.. and I wouldn't recommend eating any of them, no matter how hungry you might be."

Turning to the captain, he nodded in satisfaction. "That's one item on my list. Now.. I need the mushrooms, berries, and," he checked the book which had his list in it, "Ah yes.. The tree. And whatever else we can find." He smiled. "I'll need to borrow some more men to help me gather those things."

"So long as none of them end up dead, as a result..." Dev answered, aware of the young man's eagerness to kill people, and wary of entrusting his men entirely to his whims. "I'll send another group out to help you. But, I warn you again, if anything happens to my crew, I'm leaving you here." He smirked at the overly ambitions young man before heading for the ship. This whole thing was taking far too long for his liking, and they were low on supplies.

Mar smiled to himself as he watched Dev leave. He took a thoughtful look at the flower in his hand, considering an idea that had occurred to him lately. Pharak had explained his reasons for sending him here to collect these items, and it made sense. It had also made him begin to think. It might not be a bad idea to prepare himself for such a test that the temple priest had in mind for those others... just in case. He decided that the first chance he got to study into that idea, he was going to find out how to safely make such preparations for himself, and ensure that none of these 'tests of faith' would catch him by surprise.

---

By the end of the day, they had finished their business on the island, much to everyone's relief. Mar had managed to collect everything that was on his list in abundance, including several green fruits which resembled apples. They most definitely were not, and everyone who was involved in collecting them were instructed to wear gloves when handling them, just in case.

At Dev's insistence, all of the gathered items were stored well away from the food stores, so not to risk any mistakes happening. All of the crew were ordered not to touch any of the items that Mar had collected from the island, but nothing was locked up so securely as to be inaccessible. Dev figured if anyone was stupid enough not to follow his orders, then they deserved whatever fate befell them.

Mar was eager to return to Pharak immediately with what he had gathered, and Dev was in agreement there; while he remembered that Trevadir was on the nearby island, he also knew that their food supplies were running short, and one less person on board would be better off for them all. Plus, now that Mar had an entire arsenal of poison at his fingertips.. he thought it best to get the temple acolyte off of his ship as soon as possible, before bringing Trev back on board. It was no secret that the two hated each other, after all, and he would not put it past Mar to do something to Trev. And, as he had started, he needed the boy alive for his purposes. Best not to tempt the young man.

Dev was eager to be done with this job and back to his normal runs up and down the coast, making a profit for himself and the crew, rather than ferrying around the priest's new 'pet' so that he could play around with dangerous stuff. The only reason he agreed to do this job was because he knew the young man had recently acquired a fairly large fortune, and Dev had insisted on being paid handsomely for providing him passage to the island and back; half up front, the other half upon Mar's return to Umbar.

So, with both the captain and the passenger in agreement about returning swiftly, the Wingolost headed back for Umbar with all possible speed.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Trevadir(16) & Renia(16)
Late Summer, 3018 - An island near the Jewel Coast

The late morning sunlight streamed down into Trev’s face. He blinked sleepily, turning his head away, and found Renia snuggled against his side, breathing softly, sound asleep. He looked down at her, and smiled faintly. They had stayed up late into the night, playing music and singing together, then admiring the stars and simply enjoying the peace and solitude of the island. At some point, they must have drifted off.

He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, and prepared to doze off again. Then, suddenly, it dawned on him that he had actually been away from the ship now for about twenty-four hours, if not more. His eyes snapped open again, a little alarmed by that thought. Someone must have noticed he was gone by now, right? He started to move, but then hesitated, hating to disturb Renia.

“Mm,” She mumbled, stirring when she felt him doing so. “What is it?”

“It’s morning.” Trev said quietly. Since she was awake now, there was no need to not disturb her, he decided. “Renia, wake up. It’s morning,” He sat up, despite her sleepy protests.

“So what?” She rubbed her eyes while Trev sat up.

“So, I probably should’ve been back at the ship hours ago.” He worried, hastily grabbing his things.

She sat up, frowning. “Wait, I thought they were going to be here for several more days?”

“I said they might be, but I don’t know that.” He answered, trying to stay calm. “But either way, they probably returned to the ship last night when they finished.. whatever they were doing. And my father is probably furious now, because he told me to stay on the ship.” He started trying to gather up the food they had foraged the day before, while Renia sat watching him, sleepily processing what he’d just said.

“Wait.” She shifted to sit cross-legged, blinking at him. “Your father?” She repeated, frowning as she tried to sort that. Then it clicked. “You mean.. your captain is also your father?”

Trev paused in the middle of picking up an edible root thing they'd dug up. “Um..” He realized, belatedly, that he hadn’t meant to tell her that. “Yes.” He admitted, looking down.

“Really?” She looked a little amazed, then laughed. “Well, so what? He’s your father. He’ll get over it. He must know kids don’t do what they’re told, like ever.”

Trev stopped and stared at her for a second, blinking, before realizing.. she didn’t know Dev. At all. She couldn’t understand. He forced a small smile. “Yeah.. well. I.. I still think I should get back, like right away.”

“But what if he grounds you? He might not let you come out to play tomorrow.” She teased. “We could have more fun today, before you go back? I mean, there's that lovely swimming hole, and...”

Though very tempted, Trev shook his head slowly. It saddened him, thinking of the carefree years he had spent with Nal and Ryn, and the girls. He could almost hear Ryn speaking through Renia, trying to convince him to just forget about what his dad wanted him to do, and just stay here and have fun. But, he really didn’t dare push Dev too far. It was one thing to dare to defy him over something important, like trying to stop raids, or trying to save innocent people. But just to stay and have fun? No. “I’m sorry, Renia.” he said quietly, and he truly was. “Maybe another time.” He stayed a moment longer, reluctant to leave, but finally he set off for the beach.

“Wait. I’m coming too,” She said, hurrying after him.

“Don’t,” Trev turned back, a little alarmed, but then he hesitated. “I mean… well.. you can come along as far as the beach, I guess. But don’t let them see you, alright?”

“Of course, whatever.” She replied, rolling her eyes. She grinned and grabbed his hand as they walked, swinging their joined hands cheerfully.

Trev smiled, feeling a bit better just seeing her cheery attitude. “What about your parents?” He wondered, suddenly. “Are they in your crew somewhere, or..?”

Renia paused, looking at him. Her blue eyes appeared trouble for a second before she blinked, and returned to normal. She smiled faintly as she shrugged. “No idea what happened to them.” She answered, as untroubled as if she were talking about a lost pair of socks. “I reckon they died, but I don’t remember. Some nice folks took me in, and that’s how I met captain Ruindil, and I joined up with him a couple of years ago. Sailing and all that was just so exciting. All the adventure.. it was just too much to pass up, you know?” She grinned.

“Right.” He smiled back, feeling sorrowful for her for not even knowing about her parents. He didn’t ask about it again, and squeezed her hand lightly as they resumed walking. He wasn't fooled by the false unconcern she spoke with.. he was far too used to that sort of thing from his friends back home, to not recognize it when he saw it. But he also guessed that meant she'd rather not bring it up, so he let the matter drop.

---

The trek back to the beach was a bit lengthy, and it was about noon by the time they reached the beach. Once back where Renia had found him yesterday, she retrieved the conch shell from where she had stowed it the day before. Then, they proceeded slowly, cautiously... expecting to see the ship in the distance as they rounded the curve of the beach.

They kept going, and still, it didn’t appear. Trev frowned, stopping after a while. “Well, that’s odd.” he declared, looking around.

“What’s wrong?” She looked at him.

“We should’ve seen the ship by now.”

“Well, maybe it’s further down the beach than you thought. Or, maybe they had to move it somewhere out of sight?” She suggested.

“Maybe…” He was a little skeptical, but nodded as he accepted this possibility. He knew it wasn’t further than he remembered, because he knew that when Renia found him, he’d still been able to see the ship just at the edge of his sight. And she had stashed the shell right about there before they went off to explore the island. Still, if they'd had reason to move it, that might explain this. He figured the island couldn't be all that large, so they'd find it eventually if they kept circling the beach, right?

They kept walking until they were near to the place where the landing party had come ashore. Tracks in the sand showed that several people had come from the ship to the shore, although the waves had washed some of these away by now. Trev had spotted a glint from afar off, and now that they were nearing where the ship used to be, he could see that it was a bottle stuck into the sand. The bottle was positioned well above the tideline, where it wouldn’t get washed away even when the waters rose up to their fullest. Trev frowned and picked it up. There was a paper inside.

“What is it?” Renia looked over his shoulder as he pulled the rolled-up paper out of the bottle.

“A note.” He frowned, unrolling it and read. His heart sank as he read it, and he stared for a moment before looking up at Renia, stunned. “They.. they’ve gone.” He said, feeling a bit stunned.

“What?” She snatched the paper from him and read aloud,

“Trev,
We got tired of waiting for you, so now it’s your turn to wait for us. Look for us in a few days.. or weeks. Maybe next time you’re told to stay put, you'll do as you’re told.
- Dev.

PS; You’d better be ready to go when we return.”


She looked up at Trev in astonishment. “He left you? …how could he do that?” She asked, a bit stunned.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Trev retorted, struggling to keep the anguish out of his voice. He crammed the message back into the bottle and flung it down. Then kicked it in anger, only to cringe and yelp, hopping around on one bare foot after the hard glass hurt the other. Falling onto the sand, he pulled his knees up and put his head down, hiding his face in his hands while elbows rested on his knees. The first time his father left him, he’d only been six. He hadn’t understood why. He’d been hurt and confused and angry, but he'd still had his grandmother and his little brother, as well as friends and neighbors. Now, ten years later, he abandoned him again.. only this time, on a deserted island out in the middle of the ocean. He felt like crying, but he wasn’t about to do that in front of Renia.

“Trev. They’ll be back. And you’ll be fine,” She reminded him softly, resting a hand on his arm as she kneeled next to him. “He said he’d be back.”

“He thinks I’m stuck here all alone... he might even think I won’t have food,” Trev told her, trying not to let his voice shake with emotion.

She shrugged. “And, he's wrong on both counts." She pointed out. "Which means he’s literally just given you an amazing vacation.” She smirked. “Think about it, Trev! We can spend each day doing really fun things. Swimming, exploring, playing music.. whatever we want! And we’ll have plenty of food, and then when they do come back, we can have a whole pile of it waiting to prove to him how resourceful you are.” She smiled at him. “What do you think?”

Trev took a few slow breaths, then smiled slightly, lifted his head and looked at her, and nodded slowly. “Yeah. You’re right. The joke’s on him,” He grinned slightly. “He thinks this is a punishment, when really, it’s a blessing.” He laughed, trying to push away the hurt inside. “Come on, let’s swim.” He got to his feet, snatched the hat back from her head and took off running.

“Hey, no fair!” She laughed as she ran along the beach after him, as both tried their best to not think about how horrible Trev's father was, to simply abandon him on a supposedly deserted island.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Trevadir(16) & Renia(16)
Late Summer, 3018 - An island near the Jewel Coast

Over the next several days, Trev and Renia spent a lot of time swimming together, talking, playing music, singing, and even dancing together. They gathered food from the forest, and cooked over a campfire as if they were camping. Trev was glad he still remembered how to light a fire, from when he, Nal, and Ryn used to go off camping sometimes. Mentally, he thanked his friends for those important lessons that hadn't seemed like a big deal, back then.

Days went by. Then a week. A second week passed, and still no sign of Dev’s ship. It was the best two weeks Trev had had since leaving home. It reminded him of the leisurely fun days of summer when the group of friends used to go off into the Pelennor and spend the day doing whatever fun thing they felt like doing. Only, this time, he was with Renia. And they couldn't just go home at the end of the day and sit down to supper with his grandma; they had to forage or catch their own food, and cook it as well. But somehow, that part was even fun too. And while he still hoped to return home someday, he couldn’t help thinking he would be perfectly fine with it if Dev never came back.

But all good things come to an end, eventually. It was almost two and a half weeks after Dev had left, and the teens were sitting around their small campfire. Trev was playing his flute, watching Renia with smiling eyes as she sang along with the tune, and danced. The sun was bright overhead, and they’d just finished a nice lunch of roasted roots and fish with some vegetables, skewered and cooked over the fire. They had switched the hat back and forth between them multiple times during the past several days, and Trev currently had it. Renia suddenly stopped and stood still, going silent as she stared out toward the horizon. She held a hand to her forehead, squinting.

Trev paused and lowered his flute. “What is it?” He wondered, sitting up a bit more.

“A ship!” She pointed. “See, out on the horizon!”

Trev leaped up and stood beside her, squinting to see as well. “Yes.." He agreed after a long moment. He could only just make it out. "A swan ship.” He added. “Dev.” He glanced around. “We should put the fire out.”

“We still have half a day at least, before they’ll be near enough to come ashore,” She pointed out.

“Yeah, but still.” He kicked some dirt onto the fire and made sure it was properly out before grabbing his dagger, and sheathed it in his flute. Tucking that into his belt, he turned to Renia. “We should gather some food. The more we can pile up on the beach, the better off I’ll be. And, by extension, you.” He smiled as he recalled the plan they had made. “Come on, we’ll make them think I’ve been really busy while they were away.”


As the hours passed, the teens made trip after trip, carrying loads of bananas, papayas, mangoes, prickly pear, kumquats, and all the other fruits they'd found, along with yucca root and sweet potato and whatever other roots and leafy vegetables they had discovered on the island. Many of which would keep for a long while on the ship. The rest could be eaten first, so not to spoil.

By nightfall, they had a large assortment of edibles, enough to keep the entire crew well fed for at least two weeks.

“Now, we need a plan.” Renia mentioned, looking down at the pile with her hands on her hips. "I don't suppose your dad.. captain.. would willingly give me a lift to the nearest port?"

“Absolutely not. We can’t let him know you’re here.” Trev insisted.

“But I have to get on the ship, somehow, if I’m going to stow away…”

Trev hesitated. “Yeah, I know. And I’m really nervous about that idea, Renia…” He admitted. “I’d hate for them to discover you.”

“They won’t. Besides, if they do, I’ll just-”

“No,” He said abruptly, turning to her. “Renia. You don’t get it. These guys are dangerous. They..” He hesitated. “I don’t trust them at all, not with you. Nor any other female. You HAVE to make sure they don’t find you, if you're going to stow away.”

“Alright. Don’t worry. They won’t.” She assured him, frowning slightly. “I promise, they’ll never even know I was there.”

Trev took a deep breath, and let it out. “Right.” He was still nervous, fearful for her. But he also knew he couldn’t just leave her stranded on this island. “I’ll try to keep them distracted for a bit, and hopefully that’ll give you a chance to sneak aboard. But Renia,” He hesitated. “No matter what happens, no matter what you hear or see, do not let them discover you.”

“What do you think I might see?” She asked, staring at him in slight alarm.

Trev looked away, fidgeting with his flute.

“Trev?”

“Well, I just thought I'd warn you. They uh, they might be angry with me. The crew..” he hesitated. “Well, I can’t guarantee I won’t get a beating.” He admitted, looking downward at the sand.

“What?” Renia widened her eyes in shock. She put a hand on his arm, turning him slightly toward her. "Trev, that's awful.."

“And," he went on before he could lose his nerve, "there might be.. people in the brig. Prisoners...” He hesitated. "So, stay away from there, please.”

Renia frowned, nodding slowly. “I'm aware of that part," She mentioned quietly. "Have you told your father about them beating you?”

Trev blinked at her, briefly wondering why she would ask that. “Dev? He.. uh, no.” He mumbled. “There’s no need. He.. already knows. He always just tells them not to get too carried away. I guess he figures I have it coming…” He shrugged slightly.

“That’s…” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Just, please, be careful. I only told you this because.. well, whatever they do to me, they have Captain's orders not to kill me or hurt me too badly. So, I’ll be fine. But you…”

“I understand.” She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I hope the food we gathered will appease their anger.” She smiled. “I’d hate to have to watch you get hurt.”

Trev smiled faintly. “You’d better get out of sight. Wait until they’re distracted, and hide yourself as well as you can.” He thought for a moment. He had been thinking about this off and on over the past couple of weeks. “There’s a secret compartment in the hold, plenty big enough for you to fit inside,” He told her. "I've never seen them use it for anything.. you should be safe enough to hide there." He then described where she could find the entrance. “After we’re underway, I’ll try to find a chance to come check on you.”

“Alright.” She nodded, then grabbed her hat from his head and slipped off into the forest nearby. Trev watched her go, then suddenly realized the tracks might give her away. He jumped up and followed after her, making sure to obscure her tracks by making it look like they were his own. Once he reached the tree line where the sand became dirt and fallen leaves, he turned and came back to sit by the pile of food and wait.

---

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Trevadir(16) & Captain Dev

The rowboat softly scraped against the sand. It was dusk by now. Dev stepped out, followed by a handful of his crew. “Well, at least we don’t have to hunt you down,” He remarked, approaching Trev. He eyed the pile of food with some intrigue. “What’s all this?”

Trev had been thinking about this moment, figuring out what he should say, and had developed a plan. He stood up and faced his father. “Supplies, enough to last at least two weeks.” He informed him, folding his arms over his chest. “I knew we were running low, and you were upset because I cost us the chance to restock, so,” He motioned to what was gathered. “I went into the forest to find some.” He frowned and looked down contritely. “I thought I'd be back before you even knew I was gone.. Sorry I didn’t make it back in time.”

Dev snorted in amusement. “Really. Well that was extremely thoughtful of you,” He remarked, glancing at the pile of food. Then, he grabbed Trev by the chin and dragged his head upward, making him look up at him. “Next time, however, you do as your told. Is that clear?” He growled.

Trev tensed, startled by the sudden change, and tried to keep his fear from showing. “Yes,” he replied quietly, making an effort not to wince at how tightly his father was gripping his jaw.

“Yes, what?” Dev demanded.

“Yes, captain,” Trev forced out through gritted teeth.

“Take him aboard and put him in the brig,” Dev ordered the others, shoving Trev away from him so hard, he stumbled a little.

His chin hurt from where he had grabbed him, and one hand instinctively came up to the spot that hurt. But he managed not to fall down. Hearing Dev's orders to the other men, Trev realized this was going to be a problem for Renia. “Wait,” he backed away from the two who came forward to grab him. “I’ve got some other food stuff hidden away, elsewhere.” He informed him, trying to gain her some sort of chance to sneak aboard.

Dev folded his arms, sighing as he debated, and looked down at the assorted food. “What is all this stuff, anyway?”

“This? It’s like.. fruit and things. Root vegetables, some leafy stuff.. things like that. I’ve been eating pretty well while you were gone,” he admitted.

“Well, that ain’t fair!” One of the other men spoke up. “You said he’d be miserable and starvin’, and desperate to come back aboard!” He grabbed up a soursop fruit and looked it over. “What’s this thing?”

“Uh,” Trev didn’t know its name. “Some sort of fruit, I'm not sure what it's called, but it’s really good.” He assured his crewmate. “Sort of sweet,”

Soon those who had come along with Dev were eagerly looking through the assorted foods, intrigued and excited.

“Well, bring it aboard, idiots.” Dev told them. “We’ll have to bring more boats, I suppose. Rurik, take a load over and then tell the others to come and help pack this stuff into the cargo hold.”
‘Yes,’ Trev thought, relieved to hear this. “There’s plenty more in the forest, if you don’t think this’ll be enough for everyone,” He mentioned, smiling a bit.

“We’ll see.” Dev's tone was hard to read.

“There’s also like, a whole bunch of fish I’ve caught,” Trev declared proudly.

“Fish?” Dev raised an eyebrow. “How did you catch fish without a line and pole? Don’t tell me you crafted one out of a stick and your hair?”

Trev rolled his eyes. “No. I learned how to make fish traps from my friend back home, a few years ago.” He explained. “They're all still alive, so we can just plop them in a barrel of water and that way they'll keep fresh for a long while.”

“Well, you have been efficient with your time.” Dev remarked. Was that even a hint of approval Trev heard in his voice? That might just be a first. He hardly dared to hope that it was so, and yet.. his heart clung to that possibility, out of a lingering desire to have his father’s approval over something, at least.

“So, show me where these fish are.” Dev waved a hand toward the island.

“We’ll need some way of transporting them.. they'll suffocate without water,” Trev pointed out. "Don't want them to die until we're ready to cook them, right?"

“Hmm,” Dev considered that, and nodded. "Good point." Calling out to a few of the men, he gave instructions for the men to bring back a few of the largest buckets they had on board. They waited while they made their first trip back, and upon their return, they had brought a few of them. While the other men began to load the boat up again with a second load of fruits and vegetables, Dev, Trev, and a few others went off to collect the fish from the stream where he had trapped them.

Trev glanced back briefly and thought he saw, through the darkness, a shadow flitting across the dark sand, and into the water. He hoped that was Renia, and that him leading the pirates away for a little while would give her a chance to slip on board in stealth, while the others were busy loading up the supplies. Mentally, he prayed that she wouldn't run into any trouble.

[Rillewen]

(private)

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Trevadir(16) & Renia(16)
Late Summer, 3018 - An island near the Jewel Coast

Finally, everything Trev had gathered and more was stored on the ship. The larder was filled with food, and the crew were all quite pleased to have so much fresh food in their stores. Because of this, Trev was spared from the brig, and he was very relieved. As it turned out, the cook was quite intrigued by all of these unfamiliar fruits and vegetables, and had many questions about how to prepare the items. Trev was pleased to be able to pass on the things that Renia had shared with him, concerning the best ways to cook the different things. One of the fruits, for instance, was not sweet, but rather, more savory, and so went well cooked with fish. The citrus was very good to eat on its own, or turned into ‘ade, and so on.

All the while, however, Trev was worried about Renia. Had she made it on board? Had she managed to get herself hidden? Or, he feared, had she been unable to find an opportunity? Unfortunately, they were already rather far from the island before he had a chance to even look for her. Everyone else had gone to bed, leaving only the nightwatchmen and one man at the helm. Trev slipped out of the crew’s quarters and made his way down below, where the goods were stored. It was easy enough, since he slept on the floor, and no one ever paid him any attention anyway.

Once in the storeroom, he carefully navigated his way around the barrels and crates, and found the one large crate that was never moved from its spot. This was because it was nailed to the floor. Inside was a trap door, concealed as the bottom of the crate. Below was the real bottom of the boat, with enough space between it and the false bottom for a sort of 'crawl space'.

Cautiously, he knocked on the 'floor' of the crate, and waited a moment before hooking a finger around the nail that stuck out, to serve as a handle. He pulled up on it and looked down into the darkness. “Renia?” he whispered, hopeful, anxious about whether she had made it on board. “Renia, are you here?”

“Nope,” She replied in a whisper, sounding as if she were trying not to laugh.

Trev let out a breath of relief. “I was worried,” he admitted. “I’m glad you made it, though.”

“You kind alarmed me a bit, pulling that open like that," She told him, poking her head out of the crate. "I wasn't sure who it was." She smiled.

"Sorry," he moved back and helped her climb out, figuring she'd probably rather sit out there, in the light of the lantern he had brought, than remain down in that low space.

"It's alright. But you probably shouldn’t venture down here too often,” She warned him. “They might begin to notice.”

“Yeah, I know, I just had to make sure you got aboard safely,” he smiled faintly and sat down on another crate. “If you need any food, it’s all here,” he paused then, a little awkward. “And, um. I brought a bucket, for…” He cleared his throat. “Well, you know.” He fidgeted and set the bucket down. “When it’s full, just put it under the stairs and I’ll swap it out for an empty one.”

“Eww,” She replied, sounding disgusted. “You’d do that, for me?” She asked, half laughing.
Trev rolled his eyes. “Well, it has to be done…” He muttered, awkward. “Anyway, it’s my job all around the ship, anyway. So, might as well add one more. No one'll notice, at least.” He shrugged. “Anyway. Good luck, and stay out of sight. I’ll come by at least once a day to check, but it’ll probably have to be late like this... I hate to have to leave you cooped up in there, but it shouldn't be too long, I hope.”

“Alright.” She smiled slightly at him. “You'd better not stay too long."

"Yeah, I know. But you're alright, right? Do you need anything else?"

"I'm fine, really." She smiled, then paused. "Oh.. and I hope you didn't get punished?".

"No." he smiled. "They were so glad about the food, they decided not to. And the cook asked me to help him figure out how to cook it all." He grinned.

"Good!" She smiled happily. "You'd best get going, then. Good night, Trev. And thank you. I'll see you later, alright? Stay safe.” She squeezed his hand lightly and headed back for the crate.

"Night." He smiled, a little regretful as he watched her go, and held the lantern out so she could see what she was doing. Once she was safely down there, he passed it to her, along with some stuff to light it. "In case the darkness gets to be too much," He explained with a little smile. Then he closed the crate up and slipped back to the crew quarters, sighing softly to himself.

---

The voyage seemed to take forever, since they were so far south from Gondor. Thankfully, Renia didn’t eat so much that anyone began to suspect anything, but their supplies were beginning to run low by the time they finally arrived at a port. Trev was the most relieved of the entire crew to see them approaching a harbor. And a friendly one, at that. Or at least, not Umbar or any city in Harad, anyway. He had feared they might go there, but thankfully, it seemed that Dev had some business further north, just past Anfalas. It was a small village, not on any maps, but they'd been there before to restock supplies. He figured they were doing that, now. Most of the crew were eager to go and visit the taverns, but Trev was eager for the ship to be mostly empty of crew.

As soon as the ship was secured at the dock, Dev had the crew assemble on the deck, and informed them that they would be loading up the cargo in the morning. He was granting almost the entire crew permission to go ashore for the evening. Though it was a small village, there were a couple of taverns available to choose from, with plenty of attractions for sailors to enjoy, so the men were all very excited about that.

Trev was careful not to let any relief show on his face. With most of the crew gone all evening, that would give Renia plenty of time to get out, right? As Dev glanced over the assembled crew, trying to pick who would stay on guard duty, Trev tried not to be too swift in volunteering. He waited a moment before tentatively stepping forward. "I've don't want to go ashore, anyway, so I might as well stay. Dev glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. Trev wondered if he would say no. He had been known to commit sabotage, after all.. and this would be a perfect time for something like that. Would he say no? Or would he tell someone to watch Trev, and make sure he didn't do anything like that? He held his breath, waiting while Dev seemed to be considering.

“Alright." He said at last. He looked around. "Who else?”

When no one else volunteered, Dev selected a man for the job, and the rest eagerly left the ship to pay a rowdy visit to the taverns.

“You take this end, and I’ll take the other,” The other guy grudgingly suggested. "We'll swap at regular intervals."

“Sure,” Trev nodded. "Every half hour?" He suggested, figuring that should surely be enough time to smuggle Renia out. After the guy agreed, Trev watched while the crewman strode off to the other end of the ship. He would wait until they swapped for the first time, and then go for her. At the moment, he was glad to be in the perfect spot to watch the rest of the men leaving the ship. Aside from Trev and the other sentry, the only ones left on the ship were Nóruiven, and one or two others who had been forced into the crew against their will. The captain didn't quite trust them enough to let them loose, and thought it best if they stayed aboard. Though he didn't put it that way, of course. For Nóruiven, as the ship's healer, it was 'better that he remain near the infirmary in case of emergencies', and for the navigator who had been taken from another ship, Dev needed him to stay and plot their course for when they set sail tomorrow, and so forth.

As the men left the ship in favor of the nearest tavern, Trev ventured near the deck railing, watching, counting until he was sure that no one lingered behind. He even saw Dev and Jay go into the office of the dock master, probably to arrange for the supplies. Trev wondered if he had a contact here, or if he was going to steal the supplies or actually buy them honestly. But that wasn't his main concern at the moment. After a little while, he could see no others left outside. Good.

At the appropriate time, he wandered toward the other side of the deck, and nodded to the other sentry as they passed. "All quiet." He reported briefly, receiving a similar report in return. After he'd passed the guy, Trev glanced back, watching until he had gone around the cabin and was out of sight. Then Trev smiled and hastened down to the cargo hold, where Renia was waiting.

“Renia!” he whispered, knocking on the trap door. When she emerged, he motioned for her urgently. “Come on, we’re docked at some little fishing village, somewhere up north. I’m on watch duty, with one other guy, he’s gone aft port, I’m forward, starboard,” he informed her hastily. "We switch again in a half hour, so we need to hurry."

"Great!" She climbed out swiftly and grinned. “See, I told you it’d be fine,” She told him.

“Yeah, well, you're not out of danger yet.” He reminded her. "Come on, let's go before I'm missed."

They hurried up topside together, with Trev checking the way cautiously before they emerged into the open. Once they were on the deck, Renia paused at the ramp that went down to the dock. She was so close to getting off the ship, and to safety.. and she stopped. Trev glanced around a bit anxiously while Renia inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. "Ahh, so nice to breathe fresh air again." She declared in a whisper.

Trev smiled faintly. “Yeah, I'm sure." He realized how stuffy it must have been for her, stuck in that dark space and only coming out for a few minutes each night to talk with him and eat. "So.. uh, you'd better get out of here, alright? You know.. before anyone sees you,” He glanced around nervously.

Turning to him, Renia smiled and took his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Thanks, Trev.”

“For..?”

“Helping me.. duh.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, without you, I’d still be stuck on that island, all alone. Probably dying of boredom." She giggled softly. "So, thanks.”

Trev smiled at her. “Well, sure, I mean...” He might have said more, but at that moment, Renia suddenly rose to tiptoe, with a gentle tug on his hand to pull him down toward her a little... and kissed him. It was brief(much to his regret), and over before he even quite realized it had happened. But his heart leaped the moment her lips touched his, and as she stepped away with a smile, waving at him while she stepped up onto the ramp, Trev stood staring after her, stunned.

Renia hurried down the gangplank and paused to glance back at him once with a smile, then disappeared into a thicket of trees growing near the shore and was swallowed up by the darkness, while Trev was still processing the fact that she had just kissed him. His first kiss... how he wished he’d had time to react!

Letting out a deep, contented sigh, he leaned against the rail and smiled, feeling as if he could just float into the air. Everything he’d endured during this voyage paled in comparison with this one, conclusive moment. Having to deal with that bucket.. getting yelled at a few times for taking a few extra portions of food, having to miss out on a bit of sleep, in order to check on Renia and bring her the extra portions he’d sneaked out… everything.

“Soooo worth it,” he mumbled to himself with a smile, lightly touching his lips with his fingertips as he looked off toward where she had vanished into the shadows.



[end of this mini story]

[Ercassie]

@Arnyn

Captain Salukhatar Halsad and a very young Arkadhur. with Khalsim.
Introduction to the ‘Black Tide’. In the ‘Bay of Umbar, 2989 TA

He never knew when precisely to expect the man would come. But Arkadhur already knew just what to expect when he inevitably did. The man whom his mother called ‘Sal’ always made sure to press a shiny gold coin into the boy’s hand as soon as he arrived. And then he’d draw the curtain and spend time with the boy’s mother. At his tender age, Arkadhur had not yet put together what the two things meant, but he knew not to interrupt or ask what they were doing. The man’s guard did not like that. He’d demanded to know if the boy wanted to ‘get it’. The boy was not sure what ‘it’ was but it did not sound good, if it made the guard that angry. He'd never asked the Guard's name but he knew the man was a Guard. He wore a sword at his hip, after all. And Sal dressed too well to be anything other than a gentleman. They did not have gentlemen living in this street. But the two were mostly not unkind if he did not cause them any bother. And now sometimes he played tiddly winks with the guard to pass the time for them both. Twice now he had even been given a ‘sup’ of rum. Which apparently would put hair on his chest, though it hadn’t happened yet. He’d checked every single day until he forgot all about it. Eventually Sal would leave, and Arkadhur’s mother would ooh and ahh over the shiny treasure the boy showed off after. And his mother would sing and hum all about for the rest of the day.

The first time which did not go as expected, was the last time that Sal ever visited Arkadhur and his mother. It had been different right from the start, when the man broke through the door without even bothering to knock, cast the curtain aside and grabbed the woman, all the while demanding to know “Are you stupid ? What’s wrong with you ?”

The boy had not known that there was anything wrong, and he certainly did not think his mother was stupid. She managed to exchange that shiny gold coin each time for lots of things they needed. It was like magic. She spoke and men did whatever she wanted. The boy hoped she could calm Sal down but the man had not stopped shouting yet and so who knew when she’d manage to get a word in !

“You come begging at my father’s house ? You brought the boy ? Damnation woman !” A string of further colourful expletives fell out of Sal’s mouth as Arkadhur tried to understand, and his mother tried to explain.

“What choice was I left with but to watch him starve ? We had nothing. I didn’t know when you’d be back. And not another man will come near me since what you did to the last ..”

“I always come back,” the tall man scowled, and then retrieved the largest pouch of gold coins that the boy had ever imagined, let alone seen. Sal dropped it to the floor at the woman’s feet, and one bare foot recoiled from the blow, though no hand dared console it. Arkadhur’s mother did not even dare herself to take eyes down to guess after the value of the ‘gift’. “Now I’m to sea, and who knows when .. but I will be back,” the promise was growled along the throat of the man until he sighed and apparently relented. “You’ll have to give up something for me to remember you by until then.” He drew the fingers of one hand along the smooth line of the woman’s jaw, with all the care he had not afforded the gift flung at her un-shoed feet.


As his mother gestured for the man to join her, beyond the curtain which one trembling hand was already reaching to draw behind them, her frequent guest tore his gaze away and turned, nodding once to his guard as they both made for the exit without a further word. When the Guard’s grip took the small boy at his arm, Arkadhur jerked, to make way and expected to be bowled aside. But no, the man kept a hold and even tightened his grasp. Until the boy was dragged along with them out of the room. His mother dropped to her knees, though whether in despair and horror or to count her pay .. there was not time to see.

They were halfway down the street when the boy realised that his mother was not stopping .. whatever this was. So he ceased dragging his heels and instead did his best to keep up with the men’s long strides. He was six years old when he first saw a ship, prodded along the gangplank even as he stared up and about at the enormity of it. As though the vast wooden structure and all that it meant swallowed his entire life.


“This is a ship,” he not quite asked, but the small sound turned Sal from his stride, to survey his newest crew member. “Are you a sailor then ?” the question grew.

“I am a corsair,” the correction was delivered. “And so are you now. It is a tradition passed down from father to son.”

“But I don’t have a father,” Arkadhur was sure of that. The man who owned their building regularly said so, and so too did the children taunting from the street.

“You do now,” Sal corrected him again. “Khalsim is your father.” If it was possible, the Guard Khalsim looked even more surprised to hear this spoken than the boy was. Still he didn’t deny it. And though the child missed the hard stare which the ‘corsair’ laid upon his companion, he heard the Guard sigh before he conceded.

“So it is. I am your father.”

“There. Didn’t I say so ?” Sal seemed almost to be celebrating, though he was the only one of the three who looked happy about the revelation. “Didn’t you wonder why we always come to visit you and your mother ? I make sure that she gets what she needs, and Khalsim here spends time with you. Because he’s your father. Do you understand ?”


The nod was not entirely convincing, but it appeased Sal’s concerns. He clapped both hands together gladly. “So that is settled. And now you see you’ve grown too big for your mother to afford to feed you. So you’ll come with us and learn to be a man. And earn your crust. You’ll be safe on the ship.” As it turned out, he would not be. But at the time the child didn’t understand why he would not have been safe back at home either.

“When can I go home ?” he asked.

“When the ship brings us home”

“Today ?”

“Do you see that cat there ?”


The boy was further surprised but distracted from the non answer he received, at the new question. He nodded.

“The cat is yours,” Sal decided. “It will eat the rats. There are a lot of rats on a ship and they eat corsairs, starting with the smallest first. So you keep that cat safe and out of tripping everybody up, yes ? That is your job.”

“What do I call him ?” the boy bent down and picked up the raggedy looking tabby which had been considering Khalsim’s leg for a toilet.

“Anything you desire,” Sal promised, throwing his arms wide.

“Can I call him Sal ?” Arkadhur asked.

“Only if you call Khalsim ‘father’. And you call me ‘Captain’. Yes ?” A large rough hand was extended, which the boy struggled to shake without dropping the now squirming cat. “And the ship is the ‘Black Tide’ “ the corsair shoed in this last, eager to impress the information on the child. “You remember that. Yes ? This is your ship now, same as every man who works her. Khalsim go and find your son and that cat something to eat ..”

---

@Rillewen

Arkadhur Halsad, with ‘Jay’. Exchanging the ‘Aearmahalma’ for the ‘Wingolost’.
Somewhere between Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth. July of the present year, Early 4th Age

Nearly forty years had passed and Arkadhur felt very much now as he had, on that fateful morning, so many years ago. Welcome but still wary. Each of his hands massaged the other now liberated wrist, testing and stretching out taut muscles with a grimace at the grimy dirt shadows left to mark his skin. Ever since the second day after Midsummer, passed about from one unhappy circumstance to another, until finally. Once again. He was free.

At least in a matter of speaking. Nothing, he had learned, was ever quite that simple.


Jay had seemed sincere when he proclaimed that there was no cause for Arkadhur to concern. The pirates had after all, just done him what they clearly considered a service. But these were not the type of men to do something for another which did not somehow benefit themselves. Whatever it was that Devedir wanted with him, wanted enough to risk taking on the ‘Aearmahalma’ … no, there was no ‘mere kind deed’ about any of this. Whether he had been the cause for which they’d targeted the prison ship, or simply a bonus, .. the only thing he cared about for now was that he was alive. If he had made any sort of protest about their ‘invitation’, that would likely not have proved the case. Now, as many years before, there was no saying ‘no’ to these people. Gondorian pirates or Umbarian corsairs, it was all the same to him.

Yes then, he met the quarter master’s explanation with a nod. Let Devedir be about whatever was keeping him from a welcome himself. Arkadhur could sleep, think, and be better equipped to face whatever they might be expecting of him upon the morrow. He was too tired for any of that right now. The guest cabin was … certainly a prize to take full advantage of, for so ever long as he was able to. In this life things came and went, much like people. Nothing was set in stone. Everything could change. At a moment’s notice.

He was easily asleep before the ship turned smoothly soon after, to sail in the opposing direction, toward Umbar.