Heart_of_Courage |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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Heart_of_Courage |
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BerethEdhellen |
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Heart_of_Courage |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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BerethEdhellen |
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Eveligh |
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Heart_of_Courage |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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Eveligh |
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BerethEdhellen |
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Heart_of_Courage |
RE: The Scattered (pm only) on: August 07, 2006 03:35
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Eldarwen's eyes shifted briefly, towards the tired men and elves who had just returned... and the elves and men who were getting ready to head out. By request of their higher chieftons... they were to travel and scout in groups and sections - always able to give those returning enough time to rest and recooperate. "Garavorn... " She began slowly. "I fear to think that soon enough... Imladris will be the only haven left." She said, voicing her concern to the male elf beside her.
"I fear it will be so," Garavorn answered gravely. "We can only thank - in his absence - Hîr Elrond for his spell of Protection on this Valley that has kept it 'free' so far. - But, how long can it last from an assault by Sauron's minions?" His last question was asked with a sigh, and what 'answer' could anyone give?
"When you are ready to leave, I will be so as well," Garavorn nodded, and glanced over the elleth's company. "In the meantime," the ellon offered, "I can help with getting your supplies renewed while you rest. - If you would like…"
Eldarwen nodded, turning from where she stood - gazing into her own thoughts while looking at the camp. "Thank you, mellon nîn. As I said - we shall not be heading out for a while. There are at least three to five other scouting parties ready for their own leave. Mine is governed by Lord Mornian Lonigh... from Lothlorien. When he gives such a word - only then do we take our leave." She informed him.
However, another soon came into their midst. A man. “I wonder if I might ask of your sightings on the road to Rivendell?” The human asked, looking in Eldarwen's direction.
"Of course." Eldarwen nodded. "Easterling tribes moving North and Northwest as rumored... prisoner camps shifting monthly by orc lead... and Mirkwood was recently lost." She told him, her blue eyes lowering a bit after the last words. Hitting home. "I am afraid that is all I can tell you." She said. Pausing, she looked behind him to his party. "And where is it you hail from?.... I have not seen you before." Eldarwen said curiously.
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"They are... mostly," Falin nodded, and cautiously (for the rocks were a bit 'farther' apart than his short legs could manage) began making his way closer... though he winced when his sore limb 'twinged' with the effort.
"I was stupid, and came aboveground... I can't even remember 'why' now... but I almost got 'caught' trying to get back. - Almost got killed a couple'a times, too," the young Dwarf added, and then stopped short of the rock the ellon was standing on, and painfully sat down. As hungry as he was, Falin was willing to 'wait' until the elf had finished catching as many as he wanted before grabbing 'his' two.
And, peering into the stream... the squirmy, slithery, beasties the elf was catching so neatly, were as plentiful as when Falin had failed.
"I... um... don't suppose," the Dwarf ventured to say... his voice 'gruff', though still (for a dwarf) 'politely', "You'd be willing to give me your name... seein' as how I gave you mine."
Mornian turned his head, again slowly, to look upon the dwarf curiously. How odd it was indeed... that a dwarf should remain rather tolerable around one who was not of his same race. Especially an elf. "Forgive me, Falin," He said, nodding to him briefly. "I am Mornian Lonigh - sentinal of Lothlorien." He said, introducing himself. Pausing, the elf shot another arrow down rather quickly... and upon pulling it up - not one, but two fish lay stuck upon it.
Smiling to himself, Mornian reached down and picked up his string arrowed fish... before he nimbily jumped from one large rocking to the next, until again reaching solid earth... now beside the dwarf. Setting down the fish, he left them there to allow the dwarf to take whatever two he wished. Perhaps Mornian would come back later. "Well, Master Dwarf, perhaps it is a noble fate which brings you into our midsts here... to assist us in fighting against those forces which, not only overrun your home, but now, threaten to overrun ours." He said strongly, patting the dwarf on the shoulder briefly.
Though he wasn't too fond of Dwarves, Mornian was making a great effort to be civil. Normally he found them to be rather rude, ugly and crude people. But Falin did not seem to wish him any discomfort, and was perhaps just a hungry dwarf in need of some brief conversation and companionship for the moment.
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"Keeping her voice lowered she asked: “How do you fare?” And then with a quick glance about, “Have you been prisoner long?”
He let Hathen speak quietly to the woman. "A month or two, now.... 'tis hard to keep track of the world's time when one is in such a dark place as this. Lack of sunlight does not help." Hathën sighed, glancing up at the still, ever-cloudy sky.
Upon hearing that her group had been assigned to the armory just as the they were, Adrahil leaned forward, whispering to the woman. "This is Hathen, and my name is Adrahil. You are assigned to our group so stay close to us. We will do our best to care for you. What is your name, m'lady?" He asked.
As the next few days passed, Adrahil and Hathen continued there scheming, talking whenever possible to the smithy, the ranger and the elf from Imladris. They kept Rielwyn close to them, though the orcs made it difficult. For some reason, they liked to work the women harder than most could take, and many had dropped to the ground, being picked up by the orcs and dragged away.
One eve, Adrahil rose and crept slowly towards the armory and the smith shop, where Hathen and the smithy were faking activity while whispering together...
"Hathen, look," he said, slipping the parchment to his friend's hand. While Hathen read, he turned to the smithy, repeating what was in the parchment. "Faramir wants to know when they are planning to move us out of Mordor to Dol Guldor. He and his rangers will intercept us on our way, and free us. We need to know exactly when so I can send Nightwing with a message."
Hathën sighed. "While good fortune indeed... there is no way to know when it is we move out. The orc said within the month... that leaves such time open, and almost impossible to determine. These creatures are strange and unruley. They could move us out TONIGHT if that so wished." Hathën said, being a bit disheartened. His dark eyes glanced over to where the young woman Rielwyn.... he wished to protect her, and see her out of here safely. All the women. None deserved this. Pausing, an idea popped into Hathën's head. It was perhaps a bit dangerous and risky, but it might bring them that much closer.
"Adrahil... send word back to Faramir that we leave within the day. That should give the Captain at least two days to attack before our reach to Mirkwood." He said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "I shall attempt to speed our leave..." He said. Standing, Hathën paused, looking over to the grouping of orcs who were drinking and speaking. "Eru give me strength." Hathën mumbled to himself... before walking strongly towards the direction of those orcs.
He didn't get far, before those orcs were drawing their blades and roaring at Hathën's approach. Stopping and raising his hands in a 'surrendering' motion, Hathën watched as one of the lead Orcs stood, and pushed his way passed the others - approaching Hathën where he now stood, in THEIR presence, with their weapons pointed at him. "What's in yer head, maggot?!" He gruffed out angrily.
"I was given a messege to give you..." He began, intaking a deep breath and trying to remain calm. "The workers are to be moved out and to Dol Guldur at sunrise." He said confidently.
The orc sneered - as the others growled... as if they were trying to attempt to figure out if Hathën was telling the truth. They could, by all rights, run him through now. Hathën knew this, and it was what kept his spine straight with fear. "Oh yeah!?..." The orc leader snapped, taking a few steps closer to Hathën. The human could smell his foul oder and it almost made him gag. But the lad held strong. "Who sent tha messege?!" He sneered, raising a brow. The other orcs mumbled their annoyance, wondering if Hathën had an answer. Pausing, almost in fear, Hathën struggled to think of an orc name he'd heard while in service here. Any name.
"Gorbeck." He said suddenly. He could only pray to the heavens that Gorbeck was not there among them. The orc before him sneered a bit, taking a step back. The other orcs paused also... things went almost silent. Hathën waited - sweat beginning to bead down the side of his face in anticipation.
Turning away from Hathën, the orc looked to all the others. "Well... you heard 'im!... Get ready to make leave for sunup ya filth! And get those slaves ready!" He barked out - the other orcs lowered their weapons and began to leave, gathering their things and preparing to take down their set camp. One grasped Hathën roughly by the shoulder, and drug him back towards Adrahil and the other's he'd been standing with - shoving the edoras man back into their midst. Stumbling a bit, but keeping his up balance, Hathën let out a long, relieved sigh. He'd been incredibly lucky this time. But it was worth the risk... because now, they would leave within the night.
They could now only hope that help would come.
[Edited on 7/8/2006 by Heart_of_Courage]
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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Heart_of_Courage |
RE: The Scattered (pm only) on: August 16, 2006 07:12
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"Perhaps," Falin answered, with a half-shrug. - But, then looked up at the elf sceptically. And, so, "Think ye your 'fellow-kind' will allow me to fight with you?" Falin inquired. "I'm willin'... if *they* are..."
Mornian nodded slowly, giving a slight laugh and picking up the strung fish he'd melded together whilst the dwarf spoke. "I think many things have changed, lately, Master Dwarf... one of which, being that who we choose to fight with. So long as you fight for good - I don't think elves, men... and even dwarves, will be too hastey to raise quarrel." The elf admitted.
It was true - if they were all fighting for the same cause, especially in a wartorn time such as this... what did it matter of race? All that mattered was thwarting their enemy. That was the only cause for concern; not who lived where, or what race everyone was. "Come, Falin, let us join in the graces of the camps once more." He said, nodding to the dwarf and leading the way back towards the camp area.
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"What did you say to them?" Adrahil asked, as he caught Hathën and helped him keep his footing. When Hathën told him, Adrahil stared at him. He was astounded at the risky act that Hathën had attempted ...and succeeded at pulling off. Shaking his head, he clapped the Rohannian on the shoulder, smiling slightly. "Never will I doubt your courage, my friend. I will send Nightwing off with a message at once." He said. Hathën nodded, and glanced to Rielwyn - nodding to her, as if to silently let her know that everything was alright.
Scrabbling through what few possessions any of them had been allowed to keep, mostly those that would be harmless as far as the orcs were concerned, he tore a small piece of a page from the one book that he still carried. Having nothing to write with, Adrahil searched for a scrap of a thin branch, and setting it in the tiny campfire, used the charred end to write a message. Rolling it up, he tied it to Nightwing's leg and sent him off into the dark of the long night, praying he would find his way back to Faramir in time.
As the sky lightened the next morning, though there was no sun to shine upon them, the orcs began to round up their captives, tying each of their hands together, then tying each to the person before and behind them. Adrahil had made certain that Rielwyn was placed between Hathën and himself, feeling that they could both watch out for her well being better this way. The long line of captives began to march northward, out of the Black Gates and across the Dagorlad, orcs strolling along their sides and whipping those who faltered or moved too slowly.
Thusly they traveled for several days, stopping only infrequently and at night, though the orcs pushed them all late into every night and woke them early. There was little food and water, and many fell along the way, they being left on the side of the path, their place taken by the one behind them.
They were well into their fourth day of plodding along when they came to a wooded area, not much more than a copse of trees and rare in these parts of open land. The first of the arrows brought down the orc leader, creating chaos among the orcs.
Hathën looked up in alarm - watching the orcs fall; some dying instantly, others merely in pain, attempting to scramble away while the others tried to gather their weapons and their senses -- and attempt to attack those who were attacking them. However, the forested rangers were concealed and hard to pick out. Giving them a sizable advantage.
"Rielwyn!" Hathën said, pulling her off of the path and towards the brush and gove - where many other captives had also scattered in the confusion... hoping to get away. Hanging onto her hand tightly, Hathën pushed his way through the grove thicket - branches scraping at him, though he paid no heed. "Adrahil!?" He called, but heard nothing. While discouraged at having lost sight of his companion... Hathën knew the man could take care of himself.
Distant screams and the sounds of whizzing arrows could still be heard as many attempted to escape. Glancing sideways, Hathën saw other slaves trying to run as well.... but there was nothing as discomforting as seeing someone running beside you, then suddenly, falling with an orc-arrow piercing their back. How he and Rielwyn failed to get hit was amazing luck to Hathën - though he still worried for Adrahil. "Here..." Hathën said, guiding Rielwyn into a small divet alongside a rather large looming willowtree. "We stay here... we stay silent, and await word of a victory." He whispered strongly to her.
If they moved any further, they'd loose sight of everyone - and have no way of knowing who won. Should Faramir and the others win, they would be found. Should the orcs win, they'd hear the terrifying screams... and no doubt, he and Rielwyn would be punished severely if found. Hathën grit his teeth eagerly as he could still hear the distant fighting... he wanted nothing more than to be there - helping, fighting. But alas, he had no weapon, and didn't want to risk chance of leaving Rielwyn alone or in harm's way.
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“I hail from Edoras. I am Beadumod, Marshal of the Mark. And what be your name?” Beadumod looked over his own men.
She nodded to him. "Well met, Beadumod. I am Eldarwen Euri'nach from Mirkwood... and this is Garavorn." She said.
Glancing to his men, she noted their condition. They were weary but said nothing; they would not rest until their Marshal had his answers. Looking to the maid again Beadumod questioned. “Do you know where my men might find their rest? They have travelled long with me from Helm’s Deep where Eomer King holds his forces.” Beadumod said.
"Of course." Eldarwen said. "They may steak their tents anywhere in the city that they desire..." She said - pointing out to the many other tent shanties that had been set up by various other companies... elves, men and even a few hobbits and dwarves. Though not many. "There is food and water also availible... as many men and elves hunt and fish to feed each group." She said. "You and your men are free to do such as well." Eldarwen explained.
Glancing up - she saw Mornian returning with a stringline of caught fish... and a dwarf. She smiled a bit, shaking her head. Something about the pair almost reminded her of Gimli and Legolas... and their now renoun and odd friendship. However, in this time of war, it was not unlikely that elves, men, dwarves, and all other races would soon form bonds in order to stop Sauron and his evil minions.
"MY LORD!" One elf shouted, riding hard into camp - three other elves trailing after him. Eldarwen looked up urgently... watching as the riders approached Mornian. "My lord... troops... and orcs, outside these boarders, near Lothlorien - no doubt enroute to Dol Guldur." The elf told him. "We were scouting, m'lord... saw hints of the group and the discomfort in the woods where we believe the orcs have been ambushed." He said.
Mornian listened intensely. "Ambushed?... Friend or foe?" He asked.
"We believe friend, my lord." He replied.
Pausing, Mornian glanced around to those present, before looking back to the three elves who had arrived, weary, on horseback. "Gather the company... and prepare to leave within the half," He ordered - his elven company immediately moving into full swing. "I want numbers heading out in that direction -- cover what ground we can, and should there be survivors, we want them here." Mornian said; taking charge in his true leadership role.
Eldarwen took a few steps along Mornian's side - prepared to leave as well, until she felt his hand upon her arm. "No Eldarwen... you remain here." He said. She opened her mouth - as if to protest Mornian's order, but he spoke again. "This is not to be debated. I ask you to stay... prepare for our return; water, food, and beds for the injured. They will need your skilled hands." He told her. Sighing, the elf Mornian noted the disappointed and angry look in Eldarwen's eyes at being told to stay here. "Think not ill of me for this... " He said, touching her cheek gently, before continuing on.
Glancing towards his other elves, Mornian and his small troupe headed out.
[Edited on 18/8/2006 by Heart_of_Courage]
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BerethEdhellen |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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Heart_of_Courage |
RE: The Scattered (pm only) on: August 24, 2006 10:23
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Adrahil began to call, "Hathën! Hathën, where are you? Rielwyn! Hathën!"
The two emerged from the woodland, Hathën still taking note to walk close to Rielwyn, as if to further ensure her safety. "Adrahil!... Worry not. We have all arrived as safely as possible." He assured his friend with a smile. Things seemed to be alright. A few prisoner casualties here and there... and although sad, it was indeed to be expected. Though luckily, those Hathën had befriended were unharmed.
His heart warmed as he saw his two fellow prisoners coming toward him from the other side of the battlefield. He began to walk towards them when an orc, injured only, mustered enough strength to lift his sword, taking a wide swipe as Adrahil passed, catching the young man on his hip.
"Adrahil!" Hathën shouted as the orc took his foul swipe at his companion. Running towards him, he watched Adrahil fall to the ground, his leg no longer functioning - and he groaned as his hand touched the deep gash that was bleeding profusely. Faramir rushed to his side, calling for the healer that accompanied all the rangers into battle, and knelt beside Adrahil, examining the depth of the wound... but Hathën ran right towards the life-clinging orc - and wrestled it's blade away - striking the foul creature in it's chest with it's own blood. The orc cackled in amusement and without remorse, before dying.
Looking back to see Rielwyn arriving at their side, Hathën's concerned dark eyes turned back towards their friend. The healer was suddenly at their side, kneeling also as he pulled his bag of healing salves and bandages next to him. A few plants and water washings later - Adrahil's wound was tended. But indeed, perhaps not in the best of care.
"I think that is the best we can do here, sir," the healer said to Faramir. "It will be difficult walking on the that leg for a day or two but there is nothing we can do beyond this." Nodding to Faramir, he rose to his feet, and went off to the next person in need of his care. Faramir eyed Adrahil, asking, "Do you think you can manage with a few hours rest. I'm afraid that will be all the time we can allow. We must bury our dead and make a pyre of the orcs before we leave though we cannot waste much time as those orcs that escaped will regroup somewhere and return. We must get you all to Rivendell."
Adrahil nodded, looking up at Hathën and Rielwyn who were standing nearby, grateful that they had both made it unharmed. "Hathën, do you think you could find me a long branch that I can use as a staff to support me?"
"Of course, my friend." Hathën said.
Several hours later, the captives and two of the rangers who had been slain had been buried, and the orcs piled up and burned. While this transpired, the captives had been given whatever the Rangers could spare to eat and water to drink, when Faramir stood, calling to all to get to their feet. "We must leave now," he ordered, knowing the weak state of the slaves but having little choice but to push them onward. "We are still two days from Rivendell and there is no knowing what we may yet meet along the way."
Hathën had found a tall branch with a crotch at one end, into which Adrahil lowered his arm, and pulled himself to his feet. He found his leg was in great pain but he could hobble along fairly well with his new staff. Thus, the remaining group of ex-captives pushed onward, guarded on all sides by Faramir and his rangers and in two days time, they were crossing the River Bruinen and entering the realm of Imladris.
Adrahil stumbled occasionally along next to Hathën and Rielwyn and with the old man who's life he had saved along the trail. But Hathën made sure to support his friend - be it physically when he needed it, or with words of encouragement, as to how much closer they were to Rivendell. But his friend was in great pain and could only pray to reach Rivendell and a good healer and rest.
"HALT!" A loud but smooth voice yelled. The small troupe stopped - Hathën's eyes wide and alert - determined to care for his friend and the young woman. The company waited in silence, listening and watching. They had passed the river, and entered the small groveling and brush wood which would take them on the short path to Rivendell's stone walls. Suddenly, and yet slowly, elven archers and sentinals emerged - hidden, as if from no where.
Before them, and approaching Faramir who led, was a blonde haired elf, not like the rest. No long hair - but short and a bit ragged... which still, left nothing to his beauty and grace as possessed by all the elves. With his commanding air, he spoke, "Lord Faramir... Imladris owes you it's thanks... for bringing back our captive people. As well as your own." Mornian said, nodding in respects to the human slaves as well. "We've been watching you for a day now... only to ensure your safe return to Imladris." He said.
Faramir nodded in thanks, and explained to Mornian what happened. Though Hathën and the others could not hear everything.... he was sure Faramir said something about a needed council between their leaders. Should an attack ensue in light of this rebellion and leave of orc-slaves. Within moments, the small ex-captive troupe was being escorted into Rivendell by Mornian and his elven sentinals. "Hope, my friend," Hathën told Adrahil with a smile. "We're nearly in Rivendell... you'll find a warm bed and proper tending." He said, urging his friend to continue on for just a little longer.
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Discouraged and perhaps disheartened by Mornian's refusal to let her go... Eldarwen left Garavorn lightly touch her arm. "I will see to the beds," he offered, and then headed to do so. Turning, she watched him go - almost sorry that he offered to do such a thing. Surely he too, wished to go along with Mornian and the other's to find and escort the human exiles back into their midsts.
Pausing, Eldarwen was about to fetch water, but a gruff deep voice stopped her in her steps. "Iffn' ye need another pair o'hands, lady, I'm willin' t'help. Bein' I'm a bit 'shorter' than ye... I'll start haulin' water if ye just direct me to where ye're keepin' the extra skins..." He said.
Touched by the dwarf's concern and offer - the elfess nodded. "Thank you, Master Dwarf. I would be greatful." She said. And so it was not long before Eldarwen and Falin were industriously filling skin after skin, and bringing them to the area where others were getting beds set up. To the ellon's wan smile and introduction of himself, "Falin," the Dwarf replied to Garavorn.
"I am Eldarwen." The elfess told the dwarf - not finding the dwarves as crude a people as she'd been led to believe.
Once he was finished with the water-supply, again presented himself to the she-elf. "Anything else I can 'do' fer ye?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face. Pausing, Eldarwen gave the dwarf a warm smile; gentle, and whilst still upset about being left behind - the elven woman hid it well. Garavorn too, was finished with his task, and was hard on the Dwarf's heels as he reported back to Eldarwen. "Any sign of them returning yet?" he inquired, and turned his elven-eyes toward the path leading up out of the valley...
She was about to answer - until a horn was heard; it was an elven horn, and from one of the sentinals, who had perched upon the walls of Imladris. That was it. The return horn. They had succeeded and were returning. Many elves and men and others moved from their small camps towards the walls of Rivendell - hoping to see and help the returning elven troupe, as well as the rumored 'freed' slaves from Sauron. Eldarwen moved with everyone else, hoping to catch sight of them and help. As the small troupe came down the path... and through the open gated walls of Rivendell -- some of the men and elves cheered and clapped supportively.
A sigh of relief left Eldarwen's lips as she saw Mornian walking with Faramir. All looked a bit tired... but the poor freed-slaves looked the weakest of all. The elves and others who had been sighed on to help - moved forward, taking one injured at a time to their desired stations. Eldarwen joined also, moving up and awaiting her chance to help one of the freed. "I think it would be best to start distributing that water now, my friends," She said to Garavorn and Falin. Turning back, she came to face two young men, and a young woman - all looking very tired and dirty. The injured one using a stick as a crutch and the aid of his other male companion.
"I shall take stead of him now." Eldarwen said, reaching forward and gently prying the injured man away from his companion. Hathën opened his mouth, as if to protest in regards to stay with Adrahil. But Eldarwen gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "Worry not... he will be treated in good hands." She said gently. "Tend to yourself... fresh water and food can be found within any of the camps. I shall care for your friend." She said, looking aside to Adrahil's weary and somewhat weak form.
Gently, she and another elven healer took Adrahil to their set station. These healing stations were outside - and simple, but effective. Away from the bustling camp activity, they were a place of solitude and quiet. She knew Falin and Garavorn would take care of the uninjured and weary slaves - by giving them water and food. Perhaps even good company.
"Set him down here, Kylean..." Eldarwen softly instructed the male healer who'd helped her get Adrahil to the makeshift cot at her station. Gently setting the male down, she nodded to him - and both elves kneeled on either side of the apparent semi-conscious Adrahil. Grasping their various herbs, waters and potent blends - with the finest of care and grace - the two elves began to administer to the injured Adrahil. Occasionally, Eldarwen would turn her blue eyes to the face of the young man... feeling a great swell of pity and concern for him. What a terrible and frightful ordeal... being a prisoner.
At one point - she saw the young man open his eyes... and look up to her, where she knelt by his side, administering to his wounds. Looking over and back down to him - Eldarwen gave a gentle smile, and brushed some of his dark hair away from his face. "Oltha.. bel-min..." She urged him gently. As he closed his eyes once more, Eldarwen and the other male healer continued to tend to him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hathën was pleased to see so many warm and concerned faces upon their arrival into Rivendell. Healers and others came out of many directions - taking the injured and beginning to tend to them. And it was as Hathën made eye contact with a dark-haired Elven woman... that he knew Adrahil would indeed be taken from them. "I shall take stead of him now." Eldarwen said, reaching forward and gently prying the injured man away from his companion.
Hathën opened his mouth, as if to protest in regards to stay with Adrahil. But Eldarwen gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "Worry not... he will be treated in good hands." She said gently. "Tend to yourself... fresh water and food can be found within any of the camps. I shall care for your friend." She said, looking aside to Adrahil's weary and somewhat weak form.
Though he wanted to stop, and insist that he stay with Adrahil... he knew the elfess would not be persuaded. His friend needed care and rest - and he was sure that he and Rielwyn would only make a bigger fuss. Watching Adrahil be taken away - Hathën reached down, and grasped Rielwyn's smaller hand into his own larger one. "Come... we'll find some water and rest." He said to her. Even though one of his friends was hurt, and now taken from them... Hathën was covinced not to let he and Rielwyn be seperated. At least not until they knew what was going on.
He'd looked after he this far... and he'd continue to do so. Leading her through the various crowds and others - they found a small camping with few people... though a man and a dwarf. An elf and a dwarf, rather, which struck Hathën as odd. "Greetings, friends," Hathën said to Garavorn and Falin. "Might we trouble you for some water?.... Even food, should you be able to spare it." Hathën asked. Hardly concerned for himself, but rather, concerned with getting Rielwyn some drink, food, and a place to rest.
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BerethEdhellen |
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