Legacy of Traitors RPG

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Roryn glanced at Carathir quizzically, Carathir met his eyes and shot a murderous glance back at him. Roryn, taken aback, didn't register the look properly, although he knew it wasn't friendly...Hm...maybe our Easterling has a different agenda...

Roryn looked at Atharen and raised a brow, What do you think?". Atharen looked back in the same manner and gave an imperceptible shake of his head, Wait for a chance.... Roryn nodded uneasily as he turned his horse around to look into the forest behind the party...

[Melisil]

"I'm sorry, my lady Maén, if you think it rude of me, but it couldn't be that Carathir was by you." Aelimur stated. He smiled, this part of the woods seemed much brighter then before. On the other hand, it could have just been the dark, before. Aelimur silently decided to voice his thoughts, to make conversation.

"The woods seem much brighter now, don't you agree?" he asked.

"Yes, they do seem much more pleasent, strange as it is." she laughed, another thought seemed to have formed in her mind, "Aelimur, I know I seem to be asking a few strange questions, but doesn't this day's ride also include a much fresher feeling aswell? Or is this just me?"

Aelimur returned her laugh, "Yes, my lady. I must agree that I find this day to be very refreshing: full of life!" he paused, stopping himself slightly, "Even after a death. It seems, maybe, that some one up there," (at this he nodded his head to the sky) "is trying to apolagize for Del. Just maybe." he laughed again slightly, this time in an almost humbled way. "I apolagize again my lady, now I am speaking slight foolishness." He turned his gaze to Aaron's mane, though he wasn't really watching it. Another thought hit him slowly.

"My lady, I know this really isn't my place, but why are you hunting down Guriel? Are you truly doing all this just so you can kill him? It seems so very unlike your character, well, from what I know of you, at least." he waited anctiously for Maén's reply.

[Kransha]

There was an odd sensation coursing anew through Idruil’s veins. He felt refreshment, youthful light returning to his withered pallor as he took a moment to smile and laugh while conversing with Roryn and Atharen. For one of the first times since he fell in with such company, he felt as if he was starting to relate to others, the threadbare pieces of friendship building. It was a warm feeling that began to seep into his cold heart as he goaded the steed, Ecthelion, forward, chuckling briskly under his breath. His eyes traced the footprints indented on the ground in front of him, left by the number of steeds who led the motley procession.

He turned upward; barely catching a more consternated look on Roryn’s face before the man wheeled his own mount about expertly and spun, surveying the forest behind. Giving an acknowledging nod to Atharen, Idruil turned his own horse sluggishly in his tracks and it stamped, complaining aloud, backward as Atharen’s horse and its two riders proceeded ahead. Braying and whinnying in an irritatingly shrill tone, Ecthelion stalked beside Roryn’s steed after a sharp jab from Idruil. The man of Minas Tirith leaned forward in the saddle, looking and assessing Roryn, and spoke pensively to the other.

“Since we are on the subject, or, rather, not on the subject, perhaps now is the time for me to pose yet another question. Ever since I found myself falling in with you all, I have been intrigued, to say the least. Though there is a monetary award for all of our services to Lady Il Galoth, it seems to me that that is not the primary motive for joining this company. What, Roryn, was your motive? I know mine, of course, was no more than a bout of energetic foolishness, though I do not regret that spasm, since it seems that I will profit from it, but what was…or is, your reason for giving aid to Maen and her cause?”

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal thought about the true reasons she had entered the company. She had joined at first because the money and she needed it desperately. She also needed the protection that the company could provide from her father and his men. She also needed to get somewhere away from the area that her father's men were searching.

That is what it had all started with, but her reasons began to expand. Of course, the first reason was because of Atharen and his kindness. She wasn't entirely sure that she would have joined the company if it hadn't been for Atharen. He was a large deciding factor in her thoughts.

Then she had become friends with Maen and eventually Ferethor. Del had been very kind, even though she hadn't known him as well as she would have liked. Roryn was an interesting man as was Iduril.

Her reasons of survival and then friendship had mixed together. She had no idea what she would do after this was all over. She wasn't sure she wanted this quest to be over. She had somewhat of a family unit or something of that sort going on here.

She was also afraid that at the end that she would loose Atharen. He was a ranger and he certainly wouldn't want a thing to do with a daughter of Rohan that was begining hunted by her own father. Who ever wanted that in a woman?? She was afraid that he would just say good bye and fade away into the distance, leaving her with a broken heart and a lonely soul. She wasn't sure she could live once again without a purpose.

This quest, these people had become her purpose. At first she wouldn't have admitted it, but now she did. This was the purpose of her life. This was the purpose why everything had happened to her as a child. This is the reason why she was meant to leave her father's house and everything she had ever known behind. This was her destiny.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Roryn looked grim, although Idruil didn't see it. "My motive, Idruil, is to get myself killed." Idruil's face registed shock, But Roryn turned his horse around before he could hide it. "Surprised? Yes...death seems to have evaded me magnificently over the years, I thought that little was better to put his evasive skills to the test than to join this foolhardy venture." Maen shot him a look.

Atharen looked round. "You want to die?", he asked shocked. "Lord no, Atharen, I simply want to find out just how slippery it can be." he smiled. "Ah, I shouldn't worry Atharen...unless we get attacked again most of us should make it..."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked over at Roryn in surprise. She had never heard anyone in her life say that they wanted to die to know how slippery it was. She had heard people say that they wanted to die for what they did or because their loved one had died. Or becacuse they were in a debt and were going to be hurt soon if they didn't find money to pay them off, but never for the experience of death. Death, unfortunately, meant forever and no one or no thing could come back from it.

Yes, there had been a time when she had wondered and wished and hoped for the day that she could and would die. There had been days she had thought of taking her own life. There hadn't been much meaning in living when it meant her father was around to hurt her so.

She had clung to Arty for support, but after his and her mother's death she couldn't hold on to life any more. She had tried suicide, but each time it failed and only resulted in beatings so severe she thought she would finally succumb to the death she had wanted.

But she had survived through it all and was sitting here on this horse, behind Atharen the ranger, her heart and mind totally submersed in love for the man in front of her.

"Death may seem like an easy way out, but it only creates more problems. All your wishing and wanting for death will not come, not until your destiny has been fulfilled then will you die," Crystal said softly.

[Eorl of Rohan]

Ferethor chuckled at Roryn saying that he just wanted to die for the sake of it. Apparently he had never been in that fey state when death was near him - the strained will that snaps off in the turmoil of mind, that impossible terror that besets one that is fundemental in that it bases itself on the most basic of human instincts - that of survival.

"Fool..." Ferethor's soft voice was heard by none but himself. "But thank the Eru, Roryn, that you have never had faced death in its naked terrifying form. If you ever do, then you'd curse the day that you did forever. Death itself in battle is honorable, and not even something to be mourned over but praised - but suicide? You wouldn't know."

His countenance was darkened as he continued treading the path silently and listening to the others conversing among each other.

[Everdawn]

"My lady, I know this really isn't my place, but why are you hunting down Guriel? Are you truly doing all this just so you can kill him? It seems so very unlike your character, well, from what I know of you, at least." he waited anctiously for Maén's reply.

Maén cast her eyes to the ground and rolled up the sleeve of her tunic to revel the burn scar. "I was eight years old." she explained, "My father came home changed... so greatly, I was going through his letters and he found me and I fell into the fire, It was as if he was taken over by some other force. It has been my conclusions that Guriel did this to him. He betrayed my family, most of the Il Galoths are dead, the Dorianseds all gone and the Troyaeganeas are but a few women remaining. Three of the greatest houses of military splendor of old, three dynasties all but gone. Its deeper than a childhood accident Aleimur, much more. Whats worse is that the state has betrayed us as well." she was frowning.

"My character is not as it should be, it has not been so for a very long time, Its not nice living in the shadow of a traitor, less nice living with the fact that your house regrets you werent born a man. Thats what I have to be to be myself. Im sure that you have not met many noble women who would love nothing more than to be educated in the courts or eat meals with the servants to aviod conversing with their own family." she gave a sly smile before rolling the arm of her tunic up again. They were joined by Roryn.


“Would you like me to keep an eye on Carathir, My lady?” Roryn questioned, steering his steed beside hers, seeing her puzzled expression and he having glimpsed it himself.

“No” Maén shook her head warily “He’s harmless, after all why should I be afraid of him, he means well. He’s harmless you’ll see, he owes my Aunt everything .” Roryn nodded and went to ride off before Maén grabbed his arm and in a low voice spoke. It is not an honourable way to die, to wish openly for death and seek it upon my foe. I will tell you this, If you go to seek him out as you have done so with me, he might well kill you. You saw what he did to my clan, he would do away with us easily enough. I know what it is to want to perish and to disappear, keep faith, perhaps you will meet your end yet. The only ones who will think there is honour in it is the State. But to die at the hands of a traitor? No, the honour lies in the deed itself, you kill him and you will have glory, then perhaps you will wish for death no longer.” There was a look of grim satisfaction and contradicting enjoyment upon her face.

“I understand my lady, as complex as we are as creatures, I still feel that there is something more sinister behind you fair face Lady Il Galoth.” Roryn laughed now a few paces ahead of her.

“That may be Ranger of old, but in the end aren’t we all doomed?” a smile crept into the corners of her mouth.

“Valar Help Guriel when you come to pass judgement on him Miss Il Galoth.” Cried Ferethor from behind.

Maén looked around Ï don’t intend to pass judgement, I did that a very long time ago. What I intend Mr Ferethor, is to bring his head to Elessar in a box.” Several were slight looks about the company. “I apologise for my conduct gentlemen, It was uncalled for and highly morbid, and highly different to what the other feathered peacocks of the Gondorian court would express.” she rolled her eyes.

In the distance Maén could hear the steady rush of water and the squawking of waterbirds catching fish- It told her that they had finally reached the Barge crossing of the Anduin. It was further south of Gondor, but still on the west bank of the Anduin, one of Elessars innovations since the end of the war was to make both banks accessible readily to passing travellers.

“Ïve never been this far east before.” Maén announced, “Ive been plenty far West, my Aunt Diera Troyaeganeas (my mothers sister) she resided in Dol Amroth, I was about seven during the war (maybe I was six?) anyway, it was to escape the immediate danger of Minas Tirith. Aunt Diera lost her husband and her five sons, they were slaughtered by Guriel’s ambush. They weren’t Il Galoths but they were married into the clan. The Il Galoths were the most prominent though. All the same, you get the general idea.” She cast her eyes downwards. “Its very important to me that we get this traitor. I care little or nothing for the legacy.” Maén snapped her head up again “Come, this shant take long” and this was said almost merrily. She lead the company down the the cool waters edge and to the jetty where the barge was settled.

“This is the right way isn’t it?” She asked the company.

“ It is Lady Il Galoth” Offered Idruil.

Maén took a deep breath, “Good”she strained her eyes against the light which reflected off the water and nodded Hittai onto the jetty.

“We desire passage to the other side of the river if you would be so kind Sir.” Said Atharen trotting his horse beside Hittai with Crystal perched behind him, both riders and horse casting a shadow over the smaller horse and her liberal mistress.

“Thats not a problem, hows may yous taking?” Asked the toothless bargemaster.

“Two ladies, and the six lads.” Maén tossed Atharen a bag of coins, as usual Atharen seemed to know exactly what she meant and handed them to the boat master. “For our safe passage” he added seeing the old man’s eyes widen.

“Yess sir! Right away sir!” Maén nodded to the both of them and motioned for the company to join them on the barge.

“That was easily done”She said to Crystal who had dismounted.

“Yes Lady Il Galoth, it was wasn’t it.” Crystal’s mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“that’ s another thing that will have to stop. We are reaching the east bank, My name could mean danger for us. Keep it under raps.”

\

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal nodded her head in understanding.

"I shan't say a word about your name, but shouldn't you have another one that we may call you by? Otherwise how will we get your attention?" Crystal asked, her mind wandering.

She had gotten off of the horse, but she wanted to still be behind him. There was something about sitting behind him that made her feel safe and unexpectedly, loved. She wanted to be around him so badly that she hurt. She wondered if he had any of these feelings toward her. She figured that he didn't.

No one since Arty, which had been years ago, had loved her in such a way that would make her feel so wonderful and happy once again. Even though her mind and heart were changing just by being in the company, she was still afraid that there would never be another chance for her. That the man that she was suppose to be with for the rest of her life had died and the man that sat upon the horse, the ranger that had captured her heart would ride away at the end of the quest and leave her alone once more.

In her mind, even though she had been trying to forbid herself from actually thinking about it, she knew deep down that she could not handle being alone anymore. Too much had happened to her for her to suddenly become a loner once more. The young woman that had entered the quest for money and protection, had learned to depend on people and had formed friendships. She was thinking about when the quest was over and what she would do with her life then.

[Melisil]

Aelimur listened to Maén carefully and intently, as she told her story.

"My character is not as it should be, it has not been so for a very long time, Its not nice living in the shadow of a traitor, less nice living with the fact that your house regrets you werent born a man. Thats what I have to be to be myself. Im sure that you have not met many noble women who would love nothing more than to be educated in the courts or eat meals with the servants to aviod conversing with their own family." Maén gave a slight smile before rolling the arm of her tunic up again.

"Nay, those as you, I have not met many of." Aelimur would have liked to have spoken more with Maén, but did not, as Roryn joined them.

“Would you like me to keep an eye on Carathir, My lady?” asked Roryn, as he came up beside Maén.

“No” Maén replied, “He’s harmless, after all why should I be afraid of him, he means well. He’s harmless you’ll see, he owes my Aunt everything .” Roryn nodded, but as he started to ride away, Maén stopped him, grabbing his arm. She whispered something in his ear, though Aelimur could not make it out, nor did he care much if he did or not.

Ferethor had seemingly caught more of the conversation then Aelimur, and called out, “Valar Help Guriel when you come to pass judgement on him Miss Il Galoth.”

Maén looked back to him, calling in reply, 'I don’t intend to pass judgement, I did that a very long time ago. What I intend Mr. Ferethor, is to bring his head to Elessar in a box.” Aelimur was not suprised by this, as he had supposed from the begining that something of this manner was what she was planning on doing to Guriel. “I apologise for my conduct gentlemen, It was uncalled for and highly morbid, and highly different to what the other feathered peacocks of the Gondorian court would express.” she rolled her eyes. Aelimur shook his head, she did not seem in sorts, not content in life. Well, obviously. Aelimur corrected himself, But no, she still does not seem well. I cannot think of what it could be, though.

Aelimur guessed by the change in the scenery and sounds, that they were nearing where they would cross the Anduin.

“Ïve never been this far east before.” Maén announced, “Ive been plenty far West, my Aunt Diera Troyaeganeas (my mothers sister) she resided in Dol Amroth, I was about seven during the war (maybe I was six?) anyway, it was to escape the immediate danger of Minas Tirith. Aunt Diera lost her husband and her five sons, they were slaughtered by Guriel’s ambush. They weren’t Il Galoths but they were married into the clan. The Il Galoths were the most prominent though. All the same, you get the general idea. Its very important to me that we get this traitor. I care little or nothing for the legacy.” Maén snapped her head up, “Come, this shant take long” and this was said almost merrily. She lead the company down the the cool waters edge and to the jetty where the barge was settled.

“This is the right way isn’t it?” Maén asked over her shoulder to the company.

“It is, Lady Il Galoth.” Offered Idruil. Aelimur did not add anything to this, as he didn't see all that much point in it.

“We desire passage to the other side of the river if you would be so kind Sir.” Said Atharen trotting his horse over to the bargemaster.

“That's not a problem, hows many yous taking?” Asked the toothless bargemaster.

“Two ladies, and the six lads.” came Atharan's reply, Maén threw a bag of coins to him, “For our safe passage” he said, seeing the old man’s eyes widen.

“Yess sir! Right away sir!” Their company rode onto the barge. Aelimur dismounted Aaron once they all were on. Aelimur looked around him, studying their surroundings from the barge.

“that’ s another thing that will have to stop. We are reaching the east bank, My name could mean danger for us. Keep it under raps.” Aelimur overheard Maén say to Crystal. He walked over to the two.

"I shan't say a word about your name, but shouldn't you have another one that we may call you by? Otherwise how will we get your attention?" Crystal asked.

"Those were my thoughts, too. What other name should we use?" Aelimur added into their conversation.

[Everdawn]

“Which name to use, which name indeed.” Maén obviously, but Maén what? “Lahnoro” she nodded to herself. “Im sure there are plenty of Maén’s around, but Maén Lahnoro is quite a way from Il Galoth. It was my grandmother’s maiden name, she was just about the only one who came form a normal family.” She added with a slight grin.

She leant over the railings of the barge and watched the water running past. It was a very wide section of river. Maén also wandered what lay beyond the other side of the shore, which as she could see was still a little way away and the barge was very old and very slow. She reached for her map which presently was being looked at by several of the party.

Roryn and Idruil were muttering to themselves. She walked up behind them and observed them for a short time. “East” she said making both of them jump suddenly. “There is a road form her, or so I am told, which will lead us to a small town. Lysia told me that it is near to where Guriel purchased some land form a fellow.”

[Eorl of Rohan]

“Valar Help Guriel when you come to pass judgement on him Miss Il Galoth.” Cried Ferethor had called out from behind, with a cynical sobriety. The reply of Maen Il Garoth was expected, of course – her intent was to have Guriel dead and nothing else would suffice to ease her bloodthirsty wish for a vengeance.

A fevered yearning for blood-drenched vengeance that he could almost pity Maen for, although Ferethor was fairly sure that she wanted no sympathy from anyone. A just and impartial retribution for her kinsmen’s death and twisting of her general father’s mood, as well as for her childhood lost.

A heavy sigh of regret escaped through Ferethor’s gritted teeth, although he was unaware that he was unconsciously clenching his teeth. It would be a pity to turn on Maen at the last moment and forbid her from slaying the renegade that she had hunted for far and wide, but it was his duty as a soldier of Gondor.

“Aelimur.” Ferethor murmured in a tense voice to his comrade, “She’s going to make some trouble when we arrest Il Garoth the traitor and deny her the pleasure of shedding his blood. What would we need to do then? Slay her alos?”

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal overheard Ferethor ask if they should slay Maen also. She walked over the few paces slowly and looked out along the horizon.

"Shan't be necessary, Ferethor. Bloodthirsty vengenance runs through a woman's vains, but doesn't remain for long when she finally realizes that the one she wants dead is human just as she and has its weaknesses as a human being. She will most likely not do what you are fearing, nor would she go against you. If my assumptions are not correct, make it clear that torturing a soul truly punishes more then just a mere quick death," Crystal whispered softly.

At one time she would have done anything to kill a traitor or a murder not even connected to her. She had gotten her chance once with the travellers, but when she looked into the eyes of the man in front of her she couldn't bring herself to do it. There was a soul within that evil body, one that feared for its life as she feared for hers. She had asked the others if torturing him would be a more beneficial punishment then a swift death. The others had agreed, but she had no part of his punishment. She had been the honorary leader type then.

Now here she was with these men and they were wondering about the inner workings of the mind of their female leader. If Maen was the person Crystal thought she was then she would see and not kill him, she would allow the men to arrest him for his crimes. She hoped that she wasn't wrong about Maen.

[Eorl of Rohan]

"Little would you know, Crystal daughter of Dorian." Ferethor stirred and raised his grey and steadfast gaze to meet Crystal's level one, a faint trace of a derisive smile softening his hard countenance. "Yearning for vengeance for wrongs done us is one of the most fundamental desire that courses through us from the beginning of time. Such a desire could easily overthrow very reason and rationale of a person, and at last shape that person into a blood-lusting wraith that knows naught but to seek for revenge and would have no reason to live after such as been accomplished or found vain."


"I do not say that Maen is such a person, but I do know that Vengeance is a sweet, sweet desire that would not be satisfied except for in blood." Ferethor's grey eyes gleamed with bitter remembrances, and then he turned his head away as he said in a low voice scarce discernible. "Do not ever trust in a person, Crystal. Trust only betrays one. Remember, for one day you'd come to realize it."


Ferethor cast an unnerved and doubtful glance at the Great River as he said it, for he had scarce dealing with the sea or great water as he spent his childhood days in the edge of Eryn Lasgalen.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked away from Ferethor.

"I have lived a life where trust meant death. I have seen what trust in another can do to a single solitary life. I know that desire for vengenance. I understand all that comes with. I may just be a mere girl pretending to be a grown up woman, but I do understand even the slightest of what you are talking about, Ferethor. There is something that you should learn, something that you should know right here and now. Trust can betray you, yes I will admit to what you've said but trust can also save your soul. To never trust is like never breathing. Have you ever lost your breath and finally regained it? Trust is like that Ferethor. Especially when you trust the right person. Maybe one day you will trust and maybe give your heart to a woman. Maybe then you'd understand where I was coming from. Yet again we come at an impass of thought. I accept your opinion. Try one day to accept mine. You may be surprised by what you find in trust. You can trust me. I shan't ever destroy it or ever cause you to regret trusting me, Ferethor," Crystal said to him softly.

She looked out over the water and breathed deeply. She had learned too much, had been forced to grow up to quickly then she would have liked. She vowed that her daughter or son, if she was ever granted with such blessings, that they would be allowed the childhood that she should have had. Times were hard in her childhood, they still were in fact. Each childhood would see its hard times, but there was so much more happiness in other childhoods then she had been granted.

Maybe that's the reason she thought the way she did. This journey had made her question her beliefs and what she had originally thought. She had in fact grown in the way that she thought, had taken one of the last steps to becoming the adult that she should have been. She had jumped a gap from the little girl still yearning for what she could never get back to the confident young adult that looked at the world in a new way. She had learned to trust. She had learned that trust could burn her very soul. She knew that she could be betrayed again by trust, but she refused to give it up. There were some beings that trust could be entrusted to. Arty had been one of those people. She knew she could have trusted him forever. Unfortunately she had trusted her father to be kinder to a young lad then his daughter. Her trust in that slim chance had costed Arty's very existance. He had been burned in the most worst possible way by trust. She had been partly to blame.

She had vowed to never trust another soul after that. She had been wary for years of the other travellers she had found herself with. She had always been on guard, never believing that trusting another was ever a good thing. Then she had met Atharen and somewhere deep inside she knew that she had to trust this man. She could feel that he wouldn't try to hurt her, try to betray her by the trust she had placed in him. She knew that this trust would not be her end.

She watched as they glided along. She could trust again. She had learned how. She had even trusted a man that knew her father, Ferethor. Why she had decided to trust him after being so wary of who he was she could never explain in words. She had realized that he was just as human as she was. She had realized that he had been hurt in similar ways as she had. They were two people that had shared similar life experiences that had created lasting impressions of distrust in their hearts. She had overcome hers, she hoped that he would as well.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Trust is something to be very careful with."

Atharen's voice surprised the other two, for he had been quiet for some time now, staring over the grey water pensively beneath the current of his own thoughts. He didn't turn around so sensed rather than saw Ferethor nod.

"That is not to say it is wrong, Ferethor," he continued with a small grin, and turned to face them. "'Twas a fine speech that you made Crystal, and for someone with your past to trust is...a fine thing. I can only hope you will be rewarded." He smiled gently at her and his eyes held hers for a moment, the secret promise in the air between them before the ranger looked back at Ferethor. "And many things in it were true. But on such a quest, dangerous..undercover...you must be careful with where you place your trust."

As Atharen said this, he couldn't help but let his opaque, unreadable eyes flicker over to Carathir for a moment. The movement could be taken for simply a checking of the boat, maybe glancing at some movement made by a bird, but although Atharen did not linger on the easterling he had made sure to have him in his sights for much of the time recently. Since the very first meeting of the company, Atharen had not felt quite comfortable about the easterling and his strange isolation from the group and quiet, almost menacing watchfulness of them and especially of Maen. Maybe it was simply that he was one of the Haradrim and that Atharen had fought too many of them: that would probably explain the distrust of Carathir for the ranger as well. But Atharen was a little above that, he felt: there was something else...

"Give your trust too freely and you are bound to get hurt." Ferethor's snorted reply brought Atharen back to the future, snapping him from his thoughts and he glanced at the man slightly irritated before shrugging. "Everyone may have his own opinion, I am sure. I can only hope your trust is more freely given than you make out, Ferethor."

The guard grunted, looking over the water, and Atharen, with a small smile, did the same, drifting back to his thoughts as they came close to the bank.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked over at Atharen and began to wonder what he meant. There was a feeling of a promise within the words that he had spoken.

She wished that they could have just a moment where she could just admit to him the thoughts and feelings that were pulsing through her. She wanted to tell him right now that she trusted him on a more deeper level of thinking. She wanted to just burst out what she had been thinking since the beginning of this quest.

She knew deep down in her heart and mind that she shouldn't utter a word. She knew that if she did it would only scare him away. Besides, the urge to keep him around even just as a friend was stronger then her desire to tell him her thoughts.

She knew that she had changed a lot since she had last loved. Arty had been the only one to see her for what she truly was. He saw that she was nothing more then just a young girl that yearned to be free from her father's hatred. He had been the one to listen to her fears, her thoughts, her wishes, her hopes, and her dreams. She had thought that she would never love again.

Then she had met Atharen. She just couldn't place why her heart had felt the way it had when he had grabbed her elbow. She couldn't explain out loud why she thought she was safer near him then any place else in all of middle earth. She just couldn't think of why she was feeling this way. She couldn't even put her finger on it right now.

Maybe it was the way he had looked at her. He had held some sort of respect even for her unadult like behavior in front of him. She wondered if he could see the change of personality, the growing up that had occured in her in the past weeks. She wondered if he noticed her at all.

She brought her thoughts away. She had to stop thinking about that subject. It was one of the things that just consumed her thoughts. She had to force herself not to think of it any more. She was starting to get carried away with questions, doubts, and memories.

She thought about their quest. They had already broken into a building, were attacked in the night, and had lost Del to the darkness of death. She began to wonder what else they would have to endure before the quest became officially over with. Would another of their company succumb to death? If so who would? She hoped that they would get through safely.

Her thoughts wandered again to the man named, Carathir. She had been wary of him. She had been wary of everyone since the beginning of their quest, but she had somehow forgotten that he was there. He was very quiet. Too quiet in her opinion. Even the most untalkative of their ranks had spoken up. He hadn't uttered not even a complete sentence in her presence. He seemed to be planning something and was to busy with that to speak to the others. She made a mental note to watch him very closely in the coming hours and days.

"I know you may not believe me, Atharen but Carathir is plotting something. He doesn't speak like the rest of the company. He is always by himself or standing next to Maen, but we have not heard very many words escape his lips. Lips that are as tight as his have a great secret to hide. You must trust my words, Atharen. I've lived many years with a man that acted such as Carathir," Crystal said softly. As she had said this she had moved closer to him so others, particularly Carathir, would hear what she was saying.

[Eorl of Rohan]

"Give your trust too freely and you are bound to get hurt." Ferethor simply cut in, a slight frown creasing his brow that might have derived from consternation or rememberances. "Everyone may have his own opinion, I am sure. I can only hope your trust is more freely given than you make out, Ferethor." Atharen had answered after an annoyed glance, which made him bite his lip and look away. Trust... Was he able to give that precious and fragile gift of mind away to anyone yet, and was it worth it?


"I know you may not believe me, Atharen but Carathir is plotting something. I've lived many years with a man that acted such as Carathir," Crystal said softly to Atharen which made Ferethor recall his senses and wake from his reverie.


"Caranthir had shown no reason for us to distrust him. We all have our dark secrets that we reveal to none, Crystal, not you nor me the less. Hard would have been his life amid Gondorians who trusted him little, which would presumably have made him more withdrawn and silent." Ferethor surprisingly spoke in defense of Caranthir, though he said it in a low voice. Was it anger that tainted his tone?


"As I recall, not a single person in this expedition except for Maen Il Garoth ever spoke to him at all. Not you, Crystal, Atharen, nor anyone else ever asked him anything of his thoughts or even said a kind word to him. Do you deny it, or even noticed it?" Ferethor continued.


"Should we not consider our chauvinism and prejudice against Easterlings as the cause of this suspicion rather then his fault? Even now you raise your voice and move closer so even Caranthir himself could hear you. Are you then so sure in your proofless intuitution that you would openly claim Caranthir an untrustworthy person? Just because he has a secret that he would not tell, would you denounce him in such contemptible and distrusting tone without any regard for his thoughts on your callous and indifferent comment?"


Ferethor broke into a harsh and derisive laughter. "You tell me that you believe in trust, Crystal! And yet are you bound by the prejudice of our kind that you'd distrust a person who has done nothing whatsoever wrong just because he won't speak unless spoken to and none of you ever deigned to converse with him."


Ferethor was furious, not on any behalf of Caranthir or because he felt any especial regard or trust for the easterling, but the way that Crystal would speak of other people thus. "Ha. Amusing, I should have thought. I cannot believe that you denounce Caranthir just because he is different in his bearings. In my view, your opinions are not any more better then the Gondorian Ladies that are ever at conflict against Maen just because they are too proud to understand other people's minds. Fie on you, Crystal, I should have thought you were better then this in your opinions! You only stayed for less then three days with a person and you already put a judgment upon him?"


Ferethor asked harshly with discernable anger and contempt in his tone, for he had little patience with those who laid judgment on people just because of their difference - what did Carathir ever do wrong except for being born an Easterling and being too quiet and shy? "

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Roryn, who had been standing a way away walked over to the group. Atharen looked at him and Roryn nodded. Ferethor looked slightly affronted at being cut off, but he didn't speak to object.

"All of you should know this," Roryn whispered audibly, but so that none that weren't supposed to hear it could not, "Carathir has been acting very oddly, I've been watching him. He smiled when I brought news of Del's death, and I noticed him grinning when Ferethor was talking about killing Maen. This means that something is going on, he's also been acting oddly, flashing scowls at me and Atharen, and Ferethor. And just so you know Ferethor, if you do try to kill Maen, guard or not I will kill you."

Ferethor's mouth dropped a fraction, not because he was afraid, not because he was threatened, because Roryn hadn't said it as a threat, he'd said it as a fact and that worried Ferethor a little. Atharen looked gravely at Roryn, ad he looked back the same.

Has it come to this, Roryn, that we kill each other over this measly traitor. Maybe that is Carathir's plan, to have us all attack ourselves before we get there...

Yes, it would seem so Atharen. Do not worry, though, Carathir will not last long once I have let his plot develop a little further...

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Roryn is right. And he has been quite as hostile towards myself and Roryn as we have thought towards him. Crystal, you say you have lived many years in the company of 'such a man'; let me tell you all now that I have lived many years more than that, and most fighting. Ferethor, do not assume we know so little in these matters: the fact he is Haradrim has some weight, indeed, but that is not a 'why' to the matter so much as an 'and'. What would you have us do? Ignore the growing threat because he is an Easterling? Have some exaggerated sense of forgiving because he is different? Maybe, but I see you give nothing such to any of the others, and we are hardly a conventional company: a retired ranger, a swordswoman on the run, a lady of Gondor with a thirst for blood. Why, even you yourself, Ferethor - a Gondorian soldier who broke into the archives and threatened another soldier." Atharen's voice was quite low and seemed moderately mild as he spoke, but Ferethor flushed angrily at this.

"I was not the one to threaten him, ranger - it was you who held the left-tenant at sword, so-called 'protecter of Gondor', 'kin to the King'-"

"I am both of those things, and you know it, Ferethor," came the sharp reply, Atharen's voice rising a little. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roryn glance at him. He continued, his voice lower, "Besides, I doubt the Gondorian authorities would see it that way in your case, Ferethor - which is all the more reason we must stick together and complete this quest. Without completion, we have no explanation, and without that no forgiveness - I address this to you mainly, Ferethor, not as a hostile threat but as a warning to you," he added, his tone more sincere. "He is too young to recognise my face easily in Gondor, but that soldier knew you, I know it. He recognises you. We must complete this quest for that reason if none other."

Turning away, not wanting to continue this in case it developed into a full blown fight, Atharen nodded curtly and turned away to look over the water.

"And what of you, Atharen?"

The voice was quite unfamiliar, not one Atharen had heard at a normal volume more than once or twice, but Atharen recognised the slightly harsh tone, actually quite like his own, as the accent of the Far South. It was Carathir who spoke. He turned slowly.

"What of me, Carathir?" he said civily, his eyes meeting Carathir's equally dark ones, the latter seeming filled with zeal and smoulder and memory for the ranger...

"You did not mention yourself. The other ranger, Crystal, Ferethor, Lady Il Galoth..." he marked them off on his fingers, then clicked them. "But not you. What makes you so difference, Atharen?"

There was something vaguely menacing about Carathir's words although they seemed harmless, civil, calm. Atharen wondered if the others or noticed, or whether he was being foolish. Certainly the man had heard at least the last part of what the ranger had said, the list of their 'unconventionality' - but how much had he really heard.

Atharen smiled very slightly. "I am...complicated, Carathir," he answered the easterling enigmatically. "Complicated by anyone's standards. Little is known about me to anyone here. Trust me or don't - but when you know so little, maybe you will not find a reason to distrust me. Innocent until proven guilty, isn't that what the laws of...many people say?" he smiled very slightly, wondering if the easterling would take up the hidden message.

[Everdawn]

Carathir nodded, but in his mind he made a mental note. This ranger may cause him trouble. His loyalties to the Lady would not let Carathir take her life without a fight. There were the others too he was sure. Ferethor would surely slip and kill the pretty little woman himself if he were in trouble. Roryn would like Atharen come to the Lady’s aid if needed. He wasn’t too sure about how loyal the rest were to the Lady, he suspected their good intention, if needed he could kill the woman Crystal himself, though great with a sword, Carathir was also. He knew that would anger Maén immensely. The other two in question were Idruil and Aelimur. He suspected the companion of Ferethor was too kind hearted and chivalrous towards Maén, as he had observed for him to ‘let loose’ and murder her if he had to. Though it was a possibility that the two were here for the same reason that he was.

“I am a prince where I come from did you know sir?” Carathir said with a light hear now, Atharen smiled at the young man. “A prince of my uncle’s tribe, soon to be king of my tribe one day. “If Elessar will allow me to have what is mine.” He smiled as he walked away towards the other end of the barge.

Standing alone with the wind in her hair now, Maén watched as the shore ebbed closer until the barge struck the jetty and scribbled the last few words into her journal.

A rather unexpected trip I will say. All I have said previously here has gone out the window. I have had an experience I should wish I will avoid in future. I fear I am going mad, Yesterday I saw something I could not a seen, a ghost apparition of Carathir, but only seconds later it disappeared and Carathir appeared around the corner with the others. You see it cannot possibly make any sense. I am not missing any family members besides Lysia. I wish I had been born of her than that woman who calls me (reluctantly) daughter, they all wish I had been a strapping Il Galoth lad like the rest of my brother; And how I have tormented them so that they lament my fantastic mind and my unusual personality. It is quite strange this journey, for all my life in my mind I have remembered always that Guriel was the cause of everything bad which has happened to my family. And now I am certain. Now we must pass though Jacobe’s Run, a small rather minute town in Southern Ithilien. It could be a blessing in disguise in part that we may gain more information on our ‘friend’. There is also a family there who used to be associated with mine, you know who… But once again, any encounter with them will be most unwelcome. A lot of people have been killed before ive been here. Ive ridden and Ive for my part rampaged, and when I get to my destination. I am going to kill Guriel.


There was a quiver of excitement from deep in her body. Each step on South Ithilien soil was a step closer to killing Guriel. She had been alone at her end of the ship for the last part of the barge’s journey but now made her way to where Hittai was staring into the river. “Come now, we are a little closer” she spoke to the animal as she mounted her and rode off the barge. “Ride all, it’s not far to Jacobe’s Run!” she called.

[Kransha]

Idruil had been silent, pensive and contemplative in his unmentioned grumbling. He stared out, darkened eyes fluttering in thought, at the calm waters rippling in the wake of the barge. As a listener himself, he heard as much as he could of the fleeting conversations that went on around him. His ears stiffened as different words blew in on the wind. He sensed the same controversy that he always did, but the sight of water calmed him. It was calmer and more tranquil than the frothy, ocean’s foam around Pelargir, but still refreshing to feel a watery breeze on his face. The man of Minas Tirith allowed more memories to seep in, flooding and coursing through his mind’s corridors like more oceanic winds against his coarse-skinned face.

Soon enough, his eyes turned down as the barge stopped at that river’s opposite shore. Pulling his horse back into stride, letting it bray, frustrated and bored, he goaded the horse off the barge and onto the cold ground. His gaze turned from the dusty road to Carathir, who was not far in front of him. He didn’t like the Easterling, but that went without saying since he didn’t like most Easterlings. His prejudices were few, but he had seen too much during the last war and could never get used to looking at that face or any other’s. It brought back quelled memories which he’d pushed aside, and did not wish to live again.

“I am a prince where I come from did you know sir?” Carathir said with a light air now, Atharen smiled at the young man. “a prince of my uncle’s tribe, soon to be king of my tribe one day. “If Elessar will allow me to have what is mine.” Though the ranger looked more light-hearted as he looked upon Carathir, Idruil’s look soured as a disfiguring frown peeled across his features. Though he did not want to incite argument, he couldn’t help a jab at the Easterling. His words, though mouthed as questions, were more like aggressive attacks at the man, masked only slightly by a querying look. He tried to dilute his statement with more candor than he could show, but probably failed in the eyes and ears of Atharen and Carathir.

“A prince, indeed, how civil is the east of late.” He said, his voice first in whisper, but then loudening, “Carathir, tell me, did you see combat in the war? Though you may have made that known to others, I know not, so tell me? Is it true what I’ve often heard, that all of your kin know blood’s smell as well as they know their own? Forgive if my words are more caustic then their intent is, but it is an earnest question. During the war, the men around me would say they knew an Easterling as well as they knew their kin. I could surmise this was not so, but war can breed these falsified facts when enemies become allies. I know many who would fear to go near one such as you, and many who would cut you down where you stand.” He trailed off, his fiery tone flickering into dying embers of a murmur.

He almost instantly regretted his statement. Though he said it with a warmer air, his words were icy cold and stung. It was not that he regretted his verbal stab at Carathir, but that he regretted showing some weakness, giving in to an ancient bias which he’d thought to be conquered long ago.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal had heard what the ranger had said to Carathir. She wasn't surprised that he would raise such a question. She made a note to watch Carathir, but to not voice her uneasy thoughts out loud anymore.

If he was truly the traitor as she was beginning to suspect then he would try something near the end of the quest when they were just about to find out the true answer that could possibly prove that it was Carathir that had committed murder. He would be wild then and they would be fulfilling the very end of his plan.

She wondered who he would kill first. She assumed it would be Maen because if she got free she could tell her family and authorities who had done it. She possed some threat to Carathir. But then again, so did she. She had skills that he did not know of and some that she assumed he had seen before. He was a man, much stronger then she and could over take her after a small fight. She knew she would be at least the second casuality.

Her eyes wandered over the group. The men could over take Carathir if they stayed together. There was a lot of pride in these men and they would have to push that aside when the time came.

Crystal blinked hard to get rid of her thoughts. She did not want to think about who Carathir would kill or when. She did not want to think about what would happen if he was successful. She didn't want to know what would happen if it wasn't Carathir.

She took the reigns to Atharen's horse and jumped up, moving backward so Atharen could get up. She looked over at the horse she had chosen as her own. It neighed softly.

"Be still little one. You have special cargo on your back. You shall be alright, that I promise to you," Crystal said softly to the horse. The horse quieted and she smiled. She hoped that she lived long enough to take care of the horse, there was just something about him that she liked.

"Let us ride and pray that we aren't the ones the vultures of these lands are searching for," Crystal whispered to herself. It had been something that her mother had said when she felt they were in grave danger. Whenever she had said it in Crystal's presence she would smile and lead them on. Crystal said it now to sooth her thoughts and fears and in dear rememberance of the mother that she loved so much that the pain of her death still cut Crystal deep.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Idruil," Atharen's voice was sharp as he spoke before Carathir could, glancing at the man he spoke to. "Leave it."

Idruil looked as if he was about to object then shut his mouth, his jaw clenching, and turned away. Atharen suspected he saw the sense in it, even if he wanted to continue this. The ranger did not look at Carathir. You are the prince and I am related to the King of Gondor - neither of us will come to power, what use is there in bloodshed over it?

On land once more, Atharen mounted the horse deftly to all eyes but with a little less ease than usually - his thoughts and the slight unsteadiness from the ship put him off, but not noticeably to other eyes. The horse noticed though, of course, and whinnied quietly. Crystal hushed it gently and stroked her neck, whispering something as Atharen tied the reins. He glanced at her in askance, not having been able to hear well as the clattering of hooves from the other's horses covered the sound, but she shook her, looking away. Slightly puzzled, Atharen left it.

As all had gathered, they started off, Atharen and Crystal riding a little way behind Maen who was at the front, nearly equal with Carathir. Atharen was saved from further brooding by Crystal.

"What is the horse's name?" Her voice was soft and musical.

"The mare?" he replied, a little surprised at the question, then shrugged. "I haven't given her one."

"Really?" She was even more surprised than him and laughed a little. "Why ever not?"

"What place have I to name her?" Atharen replied, then grinned. "Besides, I couldn't think of a nice one at the time. Go on...you name her."

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

"What about Nauraucr?" Roryn said audibly, Atharen glowered at him, but Crystal looked mildly surprised. "Swift Fire...an appropriate name for a horse, don't you think, Atharen?" Roryn grinned, but Atharen still frowned. Even if Roryn had overheard them, he shouldn't have spoken as loudly as he did. Now everyone knew that he and Crystal had been whispering. Although that meant nothing on the surface, he was sure Roryn knew more than Atharen thought.

Carathir scowled and rode to the front of the group. Idruil smirked as he saw the discomfort on Atharen's face that Roryn's simple comment had caused, and Ferethor and Aelimur descended into muttering with themselves again. Roryn jjust smiled, and looked at Atharen with a raised eyebrow. Atharen merely scowled back and turned away...

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal sat thinking. The name came to her swiftly.

"How about Sandrina Critala Heart? It was my mother's name and this mare is just as gentle and kind as she was in life. She was a noble, strong woman," Crystal said softly, her mind drifting to a time when she use to live with her mother.

Sandrina Critala Heart was the one and only person that would have ever really believed Crystal. She would have gone to the end of the earth to prove that she was correct in any thought that she had. She would have done anything to protect her daughter from General Dorian Heart's furry. She had been her only friend and protector.

Crystal believed that she had been poisioned by her father. There was no other logical reason that could have explained her quick "illness" and demise.

"Sandrina was a wonderful woman. I believe that General Dorian, my father, poisioned her. There is no other explanation for her death. She wasn't sick normally and the doctors kept saying that they couldn't figure out what was wrong with her, but they had this look of knowing something that they weren't allowed to say," Crystal whispered to Atharen.

A soft sigh escaped from Crystal's lips. She batted away the tears that threatened to flow. After her mother's death her father had killed Arty, leaving her utterly alone in a world that had grown unbearable. The worst beatings she had ever experienced had come after that. Her mother had been the only barrier that had kept the worst of the worst of his lashings.

"Sometimes I hear her in the wind. I miss her greatly."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Atharen paused, knowing the sense of what he was about to say but still afraid it would hurt her. He was still incredibly aware of her arms around his waist, and the suspicion that Roryn thought he knew more than he did.

"To call her by the name of your mother would arouse too much suspicion, Lady," he said softly, his face half turned towards her. "After all, Dorian is a powerful and well-known man.

I mean no harm," he added hastily as she stiffened. "But...you say you hear her in the wind; Windvoice. Sacriheart Windvoice?" he suggested, his voice still soft but not a whisper: Roryn would not tease him or try to suggest anything dishonourable. If anything like that was suggested in connection with his protection of the lady and riding with her, the ranger was not entirely sure he would be able to keep his temper...

[Crystal Heart]

"Sacriheart Windvoice. That's beautiful Atharen. Those words truly sum up my mother. She would have liked you if she had been allowed to live long enough to see you. Thank you for allowing me to name your mare," Crystal said softly. She gave him a small squeeze.

She had wished that her mother could have met Atharen. Sandrina would have liked him, respected him. She was always telling Crystal that she wanted her to meet a man that would respect and admirer her for all times. She had also told her to not make the same mistake she had in marriage. Crystal had understood what her mother had been saying to her.

"I haven't named the stallion that I have allowed Ferethor to ride. Do you want to name him for me as I've named yours?" Crystal asked him softly.

[Everdawn]

Maén kicked Hittai and both horse and rider set off at a fast pace galloping across the dry grassland yards ahead of the rest. To the north east just out of view was the hills of Emyn Arnen, by looks the company had by passed it on the other side of the Anduin, for they had gone very far south. On the other side of the Anduin, the company was still north of Pelargir. She was sure that they would make it to their destination by nightfall, which would mean that they would have to camp, for there was no inn until Jacobe’s Run, a place which Maén was sure that there was another more local name for, though she did not know it.

Reaching the end of the plateau she noticed that only Roryn and Idruil had bothered to match the gallop, as she pulled up. Perhaps too quickly as Hittai reared and snorted. Maén patted the side of the mare’s neck and smirked watching the two others pull up beside her.

“Gentlemen” she nodded “It’s nice to see you finally arrive.”

“Are you prone to bouts of galloping off into the wilderness Lady- I mean, Miss Lahnoro.” Roryn smiled.

“Yes.” Maén said simply. “Open grassland, couldn’t resist.”

“Miss Maén, Do you know where we are going exactly?” Idruil asked.

“Only slightly, im depending upon the rangers for that.”

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Roryn raised an eyebrow and laughed. "I hope Atharen knows then." Maen look exasperatedly at him, but it was hard to remain angry with Roryn for long and she smiled. "Yes...so do I, Roryn." Atharen reached the group, his horse was panting and he himself looked rather disgruntled.

"Good of you to join us." Roryn said with a serious tone, and Atharen's face broke into a frown. "For a retired ranger, Roryn, you certainly are spritely." "Well, you can't live forever." Roryn said with a slight hint of mirth. "Ah Atharen. Don't give me that look."

...

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal sat upon the horse behind Atharen and waited for him to decided on a name for her stallion. He was a fine stallion and she was rather fond of him by now. She was glad she had lent the horse to Ferethor though. He needed a horse much more then she did.

She watched as Maen darted across the open field. She smiled. She remembered one time when she had done that. She hadn't been punished at all that time because she was with her mother in that open field.

Atharen pulled the horse to a run after her and closed the distance rapidly. They rode up besides Maen and stopped.

"Why hello once again Lady Maen. Did you enjoy your run in the open field?" Crystal asked her lightly, her laugh audible in her voice.

[Eorl of Rohan]

Captain Ferethor hand-signaled to Aelimur in the manner used by Gondorian sentinels to communicate silently and confidentially amid each other, to tarry a bit and come into his speaking range without having the others notice if possible. No one here has served as a Gondorian soldier, and therefore even if someone noticed his signal one would not comprehend it.


“Aelimur, remember Lord Elessar’s especial command to us?” Ferethor asked in a low voice as Aeronir noticed his flash of signal and drew his horse closer to the Captain’s own. “He told us that it was vital that Il Galoth be capture alive on all costs, and he seemed very empathic on that point.”


“I see from Maen’s very bearings, how her eyes flash when she grounds out that name and her hands inevitably stray to her blade, that she means to slay him and no one who dares to stay her would be cut down without a moment’s delay.” Ferethor continued quietly, logically, with cool reasoning out of incidents. “And we can’t have that unless we are to fail in our trust. It is not our place to inquire for why Lord Elessar commanded thus, only our obligation to fulfill his wishes…”


“Therefore we would have no choice but to slay Maen ere the end.” His voice was low, not only because he wanted not to be heard by anyone else but also because he wanted to soften the blow of his words. “If so, Atharen would be a special hindrance to us, the greatest though all the company will be against this deed. We would have to account for this, and as it is evident that he would not agree to our plan… When the time comes, I guess we must dispose of him also, although he is a kinsman of the King and a ranger.”


Was it a trick of his eyes, or did Aelimur shudder a bit at his callous attitude towards taking lives? “Which would be close to impossible, by the way, since he happens to be a ranger. It may even cost us our lives, but it would only be an honor if we die in the service of our lord. Hopefully Maen would relent in the end, but if she doesn’t…”


Ferethor let his sentence trail off, wondering how many more he would have to slay ere this unpleasant task is over. At least he would have companions if he traveled to the Halls of Mandos! "So, Aelimur, we would have to make priminary plans to kill them both, preferably just before we find Il Garoth."

[Kransha]

Idruil nodded, almost sleepily in the saddle, even though the animal he rode atop was shooting forward. He passed Aelimur and Ferethor, who were speaking in an oddly conspiratorial manner behind, but he paid them no heed, knowing of Ferethor’s nature. He whipped Ecthelion coolly around the recently dubbed steed, Sacriheart, belonging to Atharen and his horse’s guest, Miss Crystal. He smiled warmly at his established companion and his female friend, who gripped the ranger comfortably as that same horse that bore them both bucked freely and wildly, a tricky maneuver by any equine creature that would’ve dislodged many riders.

The man of Minas Tirith pulled his horse along, swiftly kicking it after Maen. He seemed to be the only one trying to catch and match the rollicking velocity of Lady Il Galoth, but Roryn was closing to. A slight twinge of adrenaline pulsed nimbly in the two arms of Idruil’s that gripped his reins carefully. Sharply but easily, Idruil let his booted heels pounce on Ecthelion’s heels and send him shooting upward and forward soon after.

It was an odd enough feeling, one that had not been felt by Idruil in ages. Somehow he knew that the same energetic rush was present in Roryn, and too in Atharen and Crystal nearby. Delicately, he sped up his steed. As if on cue, Roryn did the same. Idruil began to lose track of what he was doing in the first place as the sound of horses’ hooves kicking up grass and dirt and the wind pushing against him welled up and beat like a drum in his ears as he sped along, Roryn smiling back at him from his unwieldy position and pushing his steed along, the two men of often stern nature found themselves veering along through Jacobe’s Field, and were soon joined by the two not far off, Atharen goading Sacriheart into a full, gallivanting gallop as the three horses closed the distance between them and Maen at an overwhelming speed. Only Ferethor and Aelimur, still mumbling inaudibly, and Carathir, who cantered along carelessly behind, where not participating in this makeshift race to the village. His grin widening, Idruil actually laughed as he looked at the other warriors and cohorts losing sight of their mission until the sight of it began to fill up their gaze before them.

There were some houses visible, vague silhouettes plastered against the horizon. Thatched roofs, mangled in their rustic nature, began to dot the apparent skyline not far off. It looked peaceful enough. No looming towers and pinnacles erect in shimmering marble, no rigid intricacies of shingled rooftops brightened by hanging lamps that glowed in a phosphorous fashion, no bustling streets and mingled cacophony flooding and overflowing off of the small village, seemingly untouched by the undesirable effects of conflict. The green grass began to give way beneath Idruil’s horse, revealing dirt ground that further stemmed into the rough paths of that village, like a brown river that flowed off around them and past the small houses. It was the first place of its calming caliber that Idruil had seen in years, nay, decades. Idruil began to steady Ecthelion, pushing his heels gently into the horse’s leather-covered side and easing him into a slower pace. Maen, going at a greater speed, had to wheel her mount around chaotically to get it to halt abruptly, while the others began to slow as well, looking forward at the quant little village of Jacobe’s Run just ahead of them. Night was cresting the red distant expanse and weariness had begun to set in after that swashbuckling escapade.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Atharen shifted slightly in the saddle, turning to look at the fine stallion on which Ferethor was riding. It seemed dark when still, yet every time it moved, or even shifted, the deep red undercoat seemed to flash fierily from beneath.

"Naurnurta...hidden flame," he replied at length. "The way his coat flashes, and his eyes. There is something very spirited in that horse..."

"And in it's owner," he added mentally, although he dared not say it out loud, although he couldn't think why.

Suddenly a snort and a wild stamping of hooves, along with a violent rearing movement in the corner of his vision, made Atharen turn sharply to see Maen careering away at high speed. His hand went immediately to his sword to see what had spooked the horse and set both horse and rider fleeing, but then Maen looked back over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her face. Crystal laughed delightedly behind Atharen and he grinned back at her. Making sure her hands were still tight around his waist, he let the newly named Sacriheart rear up, a wild whinny escaping her, then sped into a gallop after Maen, all thoughts and troubles of the Il Galoth dynasty to the wind...for a while...

As they closed the distance, he heard Crystal's wind-whipped call to Maen and smiled with her. He had been smiling alot, especially when with her - strange, her feelings seemed so changeable to him; one minute he seemed to frustrate her, the next she was so close, her arms slipped as they had been around her waist, resting her head against his back so he could feel it's soft weight, feel her breathing against his neck when she straightened up...

He mentally gave himself a good shake and turned to Maen, once more all coutesy and politeness. "Lady, I suggest we proceed to Jacobe's Run as quickly as possible: night will be falling within a few hours, and it would be safer to stay somewhere more stable. We have already seen how camping outside could go wrong." He looked away as he said the last part. He blamed himself in part for the unfortunate death of one of those who was meant to be in the group he had joined to protect and guide, even though it had been a life bravely given.

"I disagree, Atharen: we can be more easily caught in a village, hemmed in." Ferethor's voice was bold but when Atharen turned to him, the guard pointedly ignored his gaze, deliberately looking away. The ranger noticed this odd shiftiness, and the look, an almost inperceptible glance, that passed between the two Gondorian guards, but let no suspicion show on his face, his eyes once more blank and unreadable.

"But we are less likely to be attacked in a village - it would not be subtle and streets are more easy to escape through from archers than open fields," he reasoned in reply. "And those of us who are trained learnt at least in part inside, hemmed in as you say. It is as easy to fight, but allows us all to get some rest rather than having a guard."

Ferethor seemed about to counter this, and Atharen would have recieved his opinion, of course, but Maen got there first. "I agree, Atharen - we shall head for Jacobe's Run, and can gather more information there about Il Galoth."

Atharen inclined his head, not heeding the flash of resentment he thought he saw in Ferethor's expression. "Indeed, my lady, that is what I would have suggested."

"That's it then - we head for Jacobe's Run. Lets see how fast you so called riders can race!" Maen's fiery challenge was half-called over her shoulder as she once more took off, followed in an instant by Idruil. The other man darted around Atharen and Crystal nimbly before bursting into a full gallop, flashing a grin over his shoulder at them. Atharen put on an expression of mock-surprise, then reared.

"Ready, my Lady?" he murmured to Crystal. He felt the movement of her body as she nodded.

"Lets see her run!" she replied. He grinned and spurred on Sacriheart. The mare didn't need a second bidding: the Haradrim gave her agility, the Rohirrim speed and Gondor had blessed her with steadiness. Together, in one thing at least, the three nations had combined to create an animal on whose back the ranger felt that he was riding the wind. Crouching lower on her back, he urged her into a gallop, moving into the thrill of the chase as he began to catch up with Idruil. The Gondorian gave a cry as he turned to see them on his tail and urged Ecthelion on to an even greater speed. Eventually the two horses were almost neck and neck, not far between them, almost foaming, as caught up as their riders. Maen suddenly cried a halt, and Atharen slowed, bringing Sacriheart down to a slower pace, a canter, then a trot, and turned to look at the rest of the company, now catching up.

Maen's hair was free and fell around her shoulder loosely as she commanded them. "We shall be at the village in half an hour or so. I bid you all remember my 'name', and not let anything of our quest slip. Keep a rein on your tongues."

"As we haven't on our horses you mean," Atharen replied quietly, a small smile on his face, breathing a little more heavily. Idruil grinned over at him and he returned it, glad of the companionship of the other man.

Rising in his saddle, he looked ahead at the silhouette of Jacobe's Run, then settled back down and continued in a brisk trot, falling in with Idruil.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

A fast thumping of hooves was heard from behind, Atharen turned his head, only to see a green blur that looked vaguely like Roryn speed past him. Atharen shouted and spurred his horse into a gallop again, forgetting that Crystal was behind him, Crystal let out a small cry of fear as the horse jolted into movement, but she soon got into position for the gallop as Atharen and Roryn sped towards Jacobe's Run. Atharen was gaining, but the retired ranger was holding them far behind still. Atharen smiled widely as he saw Roryn galloping, all anger he'd felt at him went, as was often the case. Roryn still enjoyed the thrill of the race, and wouldn't let his relatively old age hold him back.

Roryn looked back to see Atharen and Crystal several metres behind him, and Maen and the rest catching up as fast as they could. Ferethor and Aelimur weren't galloping, but cantering slowly, talking. It was the first occasion Roryn had had cause to doubt the integrity of the two guards, but he shrugged and turned around, back to the race. He saw the rabbit hole a second too late. His horse caught a foot in it, stumbling and bucking before continuing at the run, Roryn was thrown by the sudden jolt, but managed to keep hold of the reigns, and had a leg over the horse's haunches.

Atharen looked in horror as Roryn fell, his predicament was now very serious, one wrong move would mean he fell right off...

Roryn cursed as he hung there, several times he tried to pull himself up onto the saddle again, but failed and fell back. Each time his grip on the reigns loosening. He gave one last tug, and managed to right himself, but he was still out of balance and his horse, aware of its lack of rider, had slowed. Atharen stopped beside him, and they were joined a few seconds later by Maen.

"Roryn you fool!" Atharen almost shouted. "I was worried about you!"
"So was I, Atharen." Roryn quipped back, as he turned his horse to face back to the others. Looking sideways at Atharen he smiled and laughed. Atharen joined in. "Perhaps we shouldn't have any more silly races?" asked Maen. "Excellent idea." Replied both Atharen and Roryn simultaneously. This time it was Maen that laughed. "We'll wait for the others. And remember, Roryn, I'm not Maen while we're in Jacobe's Run". Roryn nodded as he watched the others pull up...

[Crystal Heart]

She had been filled with fear at the sight of Roryn almost falling off his horse. As they reached him, she could hear the others talking but she was shuttering. She breathed slowly to try to quench her fears. Her arms still held onto Atharen's waist. She knew she was shaking. The race had been fun right up until the moment that Roryn had almost lost his life.

Crystal settled herself down and could feel Atharen's heart beat through her hands. She laid her head upon his back to hear his heart beat and heard him breathing. There was something so intoxicating about just sitting there. Strands of her hair had fallen out of her usual braid and encircled her face.

He had named her horse. Had allowed her to name his. Was acting so different towards her and didn't seem to mind their close proximity. She wanted to find out if he felt the same way. She wanted to take him aside and talk to him in private.

But she wasn't brave enough to come out and tell him what she was thinking and feeling.

They had slowed down now and she decided to take her chance. She leaned close to Atharen's ear and whispered, "Atharen, when we get a moment alone I need to talk to you about something rather important." She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, hoping that she wasn't making a mistake.

[Everdawn]

Ill hold my tongue, and bide my time thought Carathir silently to himself. As he came last behind the others at a canter. and when my time is up, ill have none of this Godorian supremecy ... He glared under his hood at the untidy form of Maén riding ahead between Atharen and Roryn.


It would be a few hours before sunset. And Maén had been pleasantly surprised by the time the company had made by the bout of galloping. Hittai was foaming at the mouth from her little race. Maén grinned at the animal, her sturdy and light form had made Hittai the perfect partner for Maén. The horse was indeed small in form being typical of the western Harad bloodline, however the only time that Maén was allowed to ride her in the manner that let her hair fall loose was at Lysias.

Maén halted Hittai outside the gates to the village and pulled back her golden hair so that she was slightly presentable.

“Who is that?” asked a well spoken old man form behind the gate. Maén looked to the others before nodding for Roryn to answer.

“Just some passers through with our sisters. We wish for accommodation”

“The Inn is very expensive” the man cooed from behind the gate.

“And we have the expenses” added Maén.

“Very well then.” The man said slowly and let the company pass. Maén felt a cold shiver go down her spine and the blood drain from her face.

“We haven’t seen hair that golden since the traitor.” He said callously. Maén went rigid in her saddle.

“Are you implying something about my sister” Atharen asked the man sternly.

“Not at all… sir.” The man slinked back into his watch place.

Maén did not like at all the feel of the town, something was too quiet, or perhaps it was the sound of a town which was not busy all the time like Minas Tirith. “We need to find an Inn” was all she said.

“Very Well” agreed Ferethor.

They dismounted their horses and strode through the muddy streets of Jacobe’s Run until they came to a run down little building which had hanging outside, a sign which read “In” someone had obviously stolen the second N.

“Its not my usual establishment” replied Maén wishing suddenly that she had her feather bed to lie upon. “But it will do none the less.” She did not give the others a chance to agree before she strode inside and sat at a secluded table, some of the men went to fetch drinks form the bar whilst Maén and Crystal remained seated. “Don’t worry Miss Lahnoro” spoke Crystal softly. “Its not so bad, this place.”
“That’s not what im worried about…” she said.

Shortly the door to the Inn opened again and a man entered heavily cloaked, He removed his hood and looked around. Maén gave a startled cry and gripped the table.

This man once again gazed around the room with his dark blue eyes. “Where is she? Where is Maén?”

[Eorl of Rohan]

As Ferethor was not one to revel in such trifle as beer in the line of his duty, he naturally failed to accompany the others who were asking for beer at the bar. Taking a quick survey of the dilapidated and grimy inn with some distaste and aversion, though Ferethor had seen much worse, he sank uneasily on one of the wooden stools to wait.

He was somewhat apprehensive and restless, if only because of the villager’s casual remark about Maen’s vivid curls of molten-gold. Indeed she was easily recognizable, and if someone should… Ferethor sighed and wondered when he would stop in his habit of presuming the worst. Not in the near future, it seemed.

Maybe it was because he had almost been expecting something like this that Ferethor was less surprised than the others, when Maen leaped to her feet with a cry of startled amaze at beholding a seeming wayfarer who called for her by her birth-name.

Ferethor it was who instantaneously rose also, his slender blade already unsheathed and gleaming in the dim torchlight as he cried, “It would be only a common courtesy if the stranger introduces himself first. Who are you, and what errands have you to Lady Maen of our company?”

Ferethor’s ashen-grey eyes that usually sparkled with twilight-shadow radiance were dimmed in earnest distrust, harsh and hard as iron and steel as he glared with open hostility at the foreigner. Lady Maen was his charge at least until they captured Il Galoth the Renegade, and while he lived he would not fail in his duty. His challenging gaze was locked for a moment with that of the man's uncowed gaze, a shade of midnight blue of the high firmament starlit.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Atharen thought quickly. "Miss Lhunaro, put your shawl over your hair and hunch as if you are an old woman. Wrap it around covering your hair and mouth."

Not waiting to see if she did as he bid her, but knowing that she would if she had any sense, the ranger rose to meet the man's dark blue gaze. "What business do you have with Lady Maen?" he seconded after Ferethor, his voice courteous and blank, giving nothing away.

"Where is she?" The stranger repeated, apparently oblivious, haughtily looking away, his eyes searching their table. He took a few steps forward and Atharen put one hand on his sword hilt. It was not a violent motion, but somehow the way he executed it made sure that every man in the room knew that his hand was on a weapon that he knew how to use very well.

"She is not here at the moment," Atharen replied after a second, not turning to see whether Maen had covered her head - he knew she would have done. "We-"

"Oh, don't give me that!" The man sneered, stepping forward regardless. "A woman cried out and you expect me to believe that there is no woman in your company - finely thought out, sir." The last word was spat out mockingly. Atharen didn't flinch.

"That was me," a soft voice replied. Crystal stepped out towards Atharen from the shadows that had somehow stopped her from being seen. Atharen noted again with some admiration her complete ability to make herself utterly unseen when she wanted to. "I cried out because the wind when you came in startled me."

The man now turned his gaze on Crystal and he sneered. "A woman travelling in only the company of men? A fine lady you are, I am sure..." he trailed off.

"This is my fiancee and travelling partner, Miss Fallowheart, and nothing of what you insinuate!" Atharen's voice had started quietly but now, to his surprise, he found it rising. He slipped his arm into Crystal's easily, as if it was natural, and she moved a little closer to him. If he hadn't been so angry he probably would have been lost for words, and as it was it was only with the greatest self-restraint that he stopped himself from looking at her. His temper was still rising though. "You will not doubt the goodness of myself or my companions."

The man glared at him as if he was dirt and started forward, his own right hand going to his belt as he threateningly approached their table. "You will stop right there!" Atharen raised his voice, his tone dangerous.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Roryn, who was sitting in the shady corner, the smoke from his pipe winding its way up his face. The soft glow illuminated his face fractionally. At the entrance of the stranger, he moved his eyes up slowly, making no movement with his face at all. "Where is she, where is Maen?", Roryn's hand slid under his clothes, closing around the grip of his bow. "She isn't here at the moment", he heard Atharen say...fool he thought, you just revealed that you know her. His hand gripped harder on his bow, more for comfort than anything else, although he was distinctly wary. He saw that Maen had covered her head with a shawl, and smiled subconciously, at least she knew what to do...

"Stop right there" Atharen said.
"And If i don't?" the stranger asked, a threatening tone evident. Atharen was obviously shaken by this. He was unused to people making such direct threats.
"Then I will stop you..."
"Really?"

...