| maeghin |
 RE: Dartho Annin An-uir: Be With Me Always
on: March 29, 2004 04:46
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Faramond watched as Ohtar and his men moved into position. His main concern for the beginning of the battle would be to protect the vanguard as much as possible. He ran an idle thumb across the feather attached to the shaft of his arrow, while his index and middle finger held the string taught.
Darkness had fully set upon them. Fara looked up to find that the moon was merely a crescent, and did not afford the light he had hoped for. In the darkness, the Orcs gained the advantage in battle. Also, a light fog had begun to set in, rolling through the trees and underbrush in thin wispy veils of white. Fara hoped the battle would come soon, before the shroud of mist had fully lain upon the land. His fears were soon to be answered.
A black arrow whizzed past, deflecting off the limb of a tree, close to Fara’s head. A few pieces of bark and dirt were shattered from the tree, some of which landed on Fara’s shoulder. Yet, he remained motionless. The arrows hissed as they split the air, yet Fara soon realized they were not shot at any target in particular. He snorted softly, it was just like Orcs, shoot a hundred arrows and hope a few of them hit something.
As he strained his pale blue eyes, he could see the Orcs, or at least their shadows, well enough to get a clear shot, but he knew he must wait for Ohtar and his ambush, that would be the more efficient way of attack, surprise. Fara glanced at Rissa. Her raven black hair glistened in the dim light. As though she felt his gaze, she lifted her sight to meet his, her eyes catching what little light there was. A slight smile curled upon her lips as she gently shook her head and turned her attention back to the host of approaching Orcs. She was ready for battle.
A shout slashed through the hissing of the arrows, and Fara watched as Ohtar and his men lunged forth from their hiding places, taking the Orc host by surprise. Fara remarked on the courage of Ohtar and his men. He raised his bow and took aim.
“Send a volley into their flesh!” Came the call from behind him. That was all Fara needed. He made sure of his target, aiming at one of the Orcs giving chase to Ohtar and his men. His arrow found its mark, piercing the Orc in the chest, however, the beast did not fall. Undaunted, Fara restrung and took aim once more. Before he could shoot, Rissa had launched a shot, finishing off the Orc Fara had previously struck.
“Draw your swords!” Ivor’s voice rang through the ravine. Fara did just that, pulling forth his beautiful sword, Uilos, from its sheath. Marissa was off before he was, Fara just smirked as he followed her.
Ohtar and his men were retreating slowly, their backs turned toward Fara and the others. Fara’s trained eyes quickly scanned the battle ground. One of Ohtar’s men appeared to be wounded, barely thwarting the blows from a rather large, and smelly, Orc. As though acting on pure instinct alone, Fara lunged forth, darting next to the man. His sword found the flesh of the Orc. Fara forced himself between the wounded man and the host of Orcs. He pressed his attack with a great furry.
The shouts, screams and clashing of metal upon metal, filled the air with the unmistakable sounds of battle. Fara saw Fae, fighting side-by-side with the Captain of the Edain warriors to his left. To his right, Marissa was fending for herself against the host of noxious Yrch. Fara did not need to watch her though, he could feel her presence.
She was not as strong as the male warriors, but she was slender and quick. She put these qualities to good use too as she darted to and fro between the Orchoth, never standing still long enough for them to get a baring on her. Her sword sang as she spun it through the air. Her stroke was not powerful, but it fell with great precision and skill. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in cunning and awareness.
Soon, the battle was finished. A victory shout went up among the Edain. Fara smiled as he saw Rissa bent over, wiping her blade. Fara too, knelt and found the leather glove of a dead Orc, which he used to wipe the black blood from Uilos. The stench of the battle lay rank across the ravine. The smells of blood, sweat, and the foul Yrch stench mixed together, making a nauseous reek. Fara closed his eyes and focuses his mind to ignore the stench, many battles had taught him thusly.
“Hey! I think one got away!” came a loud voice from behind.. Fara’s heart sank as he turned, and raced to where the man stood, near where Ohtar and his men had first attacked. The man was bent, studying the tracks as best he could in the dim light. Fara knelt next to him and studied the ground. Indeed, where all the tracks led toward the ambush, one set of tracks led away, slightly askew from the direction the host had been traveling. Fara stood and followed them for a short distance. Something black shone on a tall patch of grass. Fara wiped it off with his fingers and brought to his nose to smell. It was the blood of a Yrch. He raised his sight and followed the path of the errant Orc. Though the fog had set and shrouded the ground, Fara could still see that it ran straight, with far-spread footprints, signifying that it had panicked and broke from the column.
A hand on his shoulder brought his attention around. To his surprise, it was Ohtar. The questioning look in his eyes voiced his concern. Fara pointed down the trail, which was almost indiscernible in the dim light.
“One of them ran off in that direction.” Fara commented, he raised his fingers to show the black fluid on them. “I believe it was injured and retreated, like a coward.”
Ohtar nodded, taking the Elf’s word on the matter. Together, the two returned to the main group, who had gathered a short ways away from the site of the battle, though a few men and elves were walking amongst the bodies, looking for either survivors or anything the Orcs might have had that would prove useful.
Luckily, the group had suffered few casualties. At first glance, Fara could see that one Elf lay dead and another man was grievously wounded, while a few others were only slightly wounded. The healers were already tending to those, including Marissa. She was knelt over a badly-injured man, trying her best to help him. She did not have any special healing powers, but she was very knowledgeable in the healing arts. Fara cautiously approached her, smelling the stench of death. As he stood over her, he noticed the man was no longer among the living. Rissa continued, in vain to apply pressure to the wound in the man’s chest, though no more blood flowed from it. Fara knelt beside her and gently kissed her neck. He placed his arm about her shoulder and whispered to her.
“He is gone, Melethril, leave him be.”
Marissa shook her head. “No, he’s not, I’m sure he’ll be just fine. Fetch me some healing salve from Fain’s saddlebag.”
Fara sighed deeply. Marissa had never seen death before, she had rarely ventured from Greenwood, and this was her first battle. With a gentle hand, Fara turned her to face him. She looked both confused and angry as a tear fell from her chin. She dropped the blood-soaked cloth she held in her hand and thrust her arms around Fara’s waist, as she buried her face in his chest. Fara caressed her back gently as it heaved from her sobbing. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head.
“I have killed.” Marissa whispered in a shaking voice. Even though they were Yrch, and would gladly have returned the favor, she had still taken the life from a living thing. Fara could almost feel her pain flow through him, and it saddened him to no extent.
He had fought many times and seen much death. His heart had grown a suit of armor of sorts, against the pain and sorrow that came with it. He would still feel great sadness at the loss of life, but never would he show it. Sometimes, his heart would ache so that he just wanted to scream, but he did not, he could not. For the moral of his men, he must remain strong, even if it was only on the outside. This was one of those times. He needed to be strong for those around him, and especially for Marissa.
To his relief, her sobbing had died down to just a shivering. Fara opened his eyes and took her by the shoulders, holding her far enough away so that he could look into her face, yet close enough to comfort her still.
“Are you alright?” He asked in a soothing voice.
“How can you do it?” She asked him in a quavering voice, as she shook her head and fought back another rush of emotions. “How can you kill someone?”
Fara thought for a moment, never had he been asked that question before. “This is the way of War, my love. As sad and senseless as it may seem, we must fight to prevent this, or something similar, from happening to those we hold dearly. That is why I fight, neither for the rush of battle, nor for the thrill of victory, but to protect my people, my friends, from such a fate.” His eyes fell upon the dead man which still lay next to them. “Valar spare us all from such a fate.”
Marissa’s eyes narrowed as she contemplated his words. After a few moments of thought, she had come to a conclusion.
“Though I fear I shall never become used to any of this, I know what you say is true. It’s just that… I wish there were another way, other than killing, to solve problems. I wish I had your strength and your strong heart, that I may be able to fight as you do, unmoving, emotionless, and strong.”
Fara sighed as he fought back a tear at the stinging truth to her words. Did he really seem so heartless? “As do I, Melethril. But sometimes, it is unavoidable. You shall feel better in time, I promise.”
He gently kissed her forehead and wiped the traces of tears from her cheeks. Together, they rose and looked about them. “Let us just be thankful things were not worse.” Fara added. He looked to his left, to where a few people were walking to and fro, carrying flasks. “There must be a stream that way. Why don’t you go wash up? I shall be here with the others when you get back.”
Marissa agreed, though she was still slightly shaken. She turned and began to walk away, pulling her cloak tight about herself as though she were cold. Fara watched her as she walked. Her normal spring was gone from her step and her stride was slow and deliberate. He sighed heavily, blaming himself for her dread. So happy was he at her return to him that he never gave it a thought about how the battle would affect her, though he knew she could fight just as well as any. He wished she had never experienced any of this and that her innocent spirit would still survive, unharmed. He did know, however that she was strong and that she would do whatever was necessary.
Slowly, he turned and spotted Ivor. Fae and Ohtar stood with him, apparently discussing the happenings of the evening. As Fara approached them, the look in Ivor’s eyes showed that he had seen, or perhaps even heard, what had just transpired between Fara and Marissa. The Captain did not say a word, but gave a knowing nod instead.
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| Rudhwethiel |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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| Rudhwethiel |
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| Faenauliel |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: Dartho Annin An-uir: Be With Me Always
on: April 01, 2004 06:27
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Faevathor stood apart for some time, both seeing and unseeing of everything around him. It had come - and gone now - his first chance for revenge, and somehow, the dark-haired ellon felt… different. He'd been a warrior for most of his life, and many a time Ivor had teased Fae about his rashness in battle, but this time… Fae couldn't place it… Was he so changed now? - Now that Elvainiel was gone? Tears stung his eyes at the thought. What would she think of him… knowing…? Faevathor ground his teeth in frustration. He wanted to scream into the night, in anger, hatred - and grief…
Finally, he slowly headed for one of the small camp-fires that had been lit as the company recovered from the battle. Ohtar was sitting by another, alongside one of his wounded warriors. Fae nodded briefly to Súlfalas and sat down. After a long silence, he said, "It doesn't help - does it?" "No," was the ellon's quiet reply. Faevathor saw Faramond, sitting not far away, with… with… Rissa was it? Shaking his head, Fae fought the tears that threatened to stream down his cheeks and then a glint caught his eye: the ear-ring the ex-Mirkwood warrior had had Súl give him in his misery over a love that was lost no longer. And, now, would Fara regret getting it? he wondered.
"How can I bear this?" Fae whispered to himself, not realizing he'd spoken loud enough to be heard. "Because you will, Fae," and the ellon looked up to see Ivorcheneb joining him and Súl. "You're too strong-willed to fade," the elven-captain said as he sat down. "And, Elvainiel wouldn't have wanted you to, either." Faevathor stared at his friend for a moment, stung by actually hearing his wife's name spoken aloud, and then, he nodded. "No," he said sadly, "She wouldn't." "When was the last time you slept, Fae?" Súlfalas asked, eyeing the grieving warrior keenly. Fae shook his head again. He couldn't remember. "Well you need it!" Ivor said firmly, "And I'm making it an order! Get some sleep, Fae!" and nodding at a convenient empty space by the fire, the Captain continued, "And do it, now!" With a rueful twist to his lips, the ellon nodded, and standing, said, "Be iest lín!*" with a short bow to his Captain. As he lay on the ground, gazing up at the stars, Faevathor fell asleep, even as he wondered if he could…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ellon jerked awake, just before dawn, and then closing his eyes again, sighed. Ivor HAD been right - he'd needed to sleep, but he hadn't wanted to. Fae rose, retrieved his weapons from were where he'd left them, and then looked around. Ohtar was still where he'd been last night, and the elf was again relieved his edain friend hadn't been injured. But, now that he was looking, Faevathor noticed who was wounded.
Fae remembered flashes of the battle, and glimpses of this Aervon fighting. Not a bad soldier, the ellon thought, and made his way over to the Edain Captain.
"How is he?" Fae asked Ohtar.
"Better," the captain replied, and Fae nodded as his friend helped Aervon to sit.
"Can he ride?" and all looked at Gon Ivor as he joined them. Both ellyn hid smiles at Aervon's snarled reply, but both also knew better. There was no way the injured soldier could ride by himself, so, "If someone can lead his horse, he can ride with me. Mithfaer can carry us both," Fae said, and reached down to pull the man up.
"I'll have Vanrick see to it," Ohtar said, and walking slowly, Faevathor helped Aervon over to the stallion.
* "As you wish"
***************************************
The morning dawned cold and grey, and Aervon groaned, and then winced in pain, when he tried to rise. "Lie still, Aervon!" came a curt command, and the man recognized his captain's voice. "Sir!" he said, and swore to himself at the weakness of his voice, "I can't - won't - keep this company slowed down!" and attempted to get up again. "I said, stay where you are!" and this time Ohtar held his warrior down. "You'll be up soon enough," he said more quietly, and then Aervon found the man helping drink some water. Unwilling to admit it to himself, Aervon did NOT want to get up, but still railed inwardly at his injuries as he closed his eyes again.
A quiet voice interrupted Aervon's fitful dozing - how much later, the man couldn't tell. "How is he?" and squinting against the light, looked up into the face of a dark-haired elf. The same one, he remembered, he'd been fighting near last night.
"Better," he heard his captain say, and, becoming more determined, Aervon struggled to sit. And this time, Ohtar let him. "Can he ride?" and another elf - the blond-haired Captain walked up. "I will!" Aervon growled for himself, but couldn't seem to get to his feet, and fumed audibly.
The man's eyes widened as the dark elf - Faevthor - he rememberd, laid a hand on Ohtar's shoulder. "If someone can lead his horse," Fae said, "He can ride with me. Mithfaer can carry us both." And with no seeming effort on the elf's part, Aervon felt himself pulled up, and with a strong arm around his waist, helped over to the ellon's waiting horse.
"Here," the elf said, and vaulting to Mithfaer's back, reached down a hand. "Brace your foot on mine," Fae directed him, and carefully pulled the man up behind him. "Maer!" the ellon said, and waited for the command to move out again.
For a moment, Aervon wondered if he looked as foolish as he felt, but then saw others who were wounded also riding double. Shaking his head in wonder, the man was very glad he was part of this company...
[Edited on 2/4/2004 by gwendeth]
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| Faenauliel |
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| maeghin |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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| maeghin |
RE: Dartho Annin An-uir: Be With Me Always
on: April 27, 2004 05:47
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(A long one to make up for lost time :love: )
As the morning grew old and mid-day approached, the echoes of thunder grew louder. The storm was rapidly approaching. Fara looked to the sky, to where he knew the Sun should be, yet there was naught but a slightly lighter patch of grey cloud. The winds, which came from behind, picked up and caught Fara’s hair, flinging what strands weren’t braided into his face. He reached up and tucked them neatly behind his ears, and then drew the hood of his cloak up. The first drops of water began to fall, first as a sprinkle, but soon the air was heavy with water. Fara squinted in a vain attempt to shield his eyes, whilst his face was assailed by the falling drops.
Lightning flashed, brightening the sky for a brief moment before the booming echo of thunder followed. The ground was saturated from the deluge which fell from the skies. Fara stroked Belerand’s mane, knowing his steed must be having a rough time in the sloppy muck which now covered the ground. Fara inspected the horses of Fae and Ohtar, who rode immediately in front of him. Their hocks were caked with mud, up to their bellies. Fara sighed, he hated to ride in a torrential downpour, but he knew they must press on; for their mission was of utmost importance to the success of the Men and Elf’s assault.
As they drew nearer to the Branaduin, Fara winced as the sound of the raging, turbulent waters reached his ears. This did not bode well for their crossing. After a few minutes more, the river came into view. It was just as they had feared. The recent rains had swelled the great River, which overflowed its banks. The bridge still stood, though the waters now raced over it, a few feet deep. Fara grimaced at the sight. The waters were undoubtedly cold, and there would be no avoiding the inevitable drenching their crossing would be. As the column halted, Fara brought his mount up next to Ivor’s. They searched the area for any signs of would-be attackers, but found none in the immediate area.
“What think you, Gon Faramond?” Ivor asked Fara. Fara inspected the area.
“I think we should test the bridge first, it may prove to be a better place to cross.” He glanced at the torrents. The shear velocity of the water would make it almost impossible to attempt to swim across. “The current is too strong to ford here. Unless we take the flooded bridge, we would have to find another place. And that, mellon nín, may take all day.”
Ivor nodded, his eyes showed that he had expected such an answer. “Very well then, I shall go first, any other volunteers?”
“I will test it.” Fae called forth. Ivor turned to the ellon, and then to his extra passenger, and shook his head.
“I shall.” piped up Ohtar. Apparently, the Captain of the Edain wished for the men to have a say in the matter. “You should stay back, Fae, and cross with the others.”
Fara snickered at the look of dejection on Fae’s face, and then turned to Ivor. “Gon Ivorcheneb, it would probably be best if you stayed here with the others, we shall still need one Captain left when Captain Ohtar is washed down the River.” Fara winked at Ohtar, then pulled Belerand’s reigns, “Well, it was my idea to test the bridge, so I guess I shall go.”
Ohtar raised an eyebrow and regarded Fara. The smile on the ellon’s face was broad, and Ohtar had no choice but to laugh. “In that case, I shall make sure to take you with me.” The Captain of the Edain rebuked.
Fara nodded. “Well then, Captain Ohtar, shall we?” Fara urged his mount forward, and then held out his arm for Ohtar to take, in a mock gesture. The Edain Captain just shook his head and snickered. Fara shrugged. When Ohtar was next to him, Fara grew serious once more, he urged Belerand forth, and together the two approached the frigid waters.
As their steeds were up to their hocks, Ohtar’s horse began to protest. Fara stopped Belerand to wait whilst Ohtar gained control of his horse. They had to wade for a few feet before they even reached the start of the bridge. Fara could feel the cold waters as they soaked through his boots, and a chill raced through his body. Belerand nickered furiously as his belly became immersed, yet he did not falter.
Luckily, the waters were on the bridge were only deep enough to reach the horse’s belly, yet still the crossing would be treacherous. The boards of the bridge were swollen and wet, thus making them hazardously slippery. Belerand’s hooves skidded occasionally, yet he maintained his balance. Fara kept an eye on Ohtar and his mount. He knew Belerand’s abilities, but was unsure about those of the Captain’s horse.
Ohtar cursed on occasion, signifying that his horse was indeed having a difficult time. After about ten minutes, they had reached the other side. Fara was relieved to have solid ground beneath him once more, however muddy it was. He turned Belerand and listened as Ohtar yelled above the din of the current and falling rain.
“It is treacherous, yet it is doable.” He waved to Ivor. Ivor nodded and turned to the column, giving them their orders. Súl made his way to the middle of the column, and Fae to the rear. Ivor had spread them to help the others if needed.
As they began to cross, Fara turned to examine their surroundings. First, he looked to the ground. The dirt looked as though it had been tread, yet it was hard to make out how long ago, due to the falling rain. The hair stood on his neck as Belerand shook his head and snorted. They were not alone. Fara scanned the trees and underbrush with his sharp eyes, yet he saw nothing. A bird sang in one of the nearby trees and Fara’s eyes went wide.
“What is it my friend?” Ohtar asked. Fara put up a hand to silence him as his face went pale.
“Have you ever heard a bird sing like that in the pouring rain?” Fara asked in a worried voice. He turned to the advancing column. Ivor, who was at the lead, was almost half way across, whilst Fae, at the rear, had not even begun to cross yet.
“Turn back!” Fara shouted. “It is a trap!”
Just then, a loud crash came from the surrounding woods as several Orcs sprang from their hiding places. “We are found! Push the attack!” one of the Orcs cried. A horn blast signified the call to arms for the Orcs.
Fara heard a hissing sound coming toward him, through the rain. He realized it was an arrow, only too late, for the dark arrow had already struck him in the leg. He cursed as he drew his own bow and returned fire. A searing pain raced through his left shoulder, as another arrow had struck him from behind. Realizing that he was an open target on Belerand’s back, he quickly dismounted and swatted his horse on the shanks, sending him on his way. His leg burned as he put his weight on it, but there was no time to remove the arrow, or he would find another lodged in him. He dove to the ground as he dodged the next volley, which sliced through the thick air. The mud was a few inches thick, and it coated his body in a layer of brownish muck. He reached to his back and tried to pull the arrow, but to no avail, so he broke the shaft off instead. Undaunted, he rose to one knee and continued to fire.
It was hard to see his target through the falling rain and wind, and he found that on occasion, he missed. Searching for Ohtar, he found the Captain had his sword drawn and charged the Orc archers, slicing through them in a furry of steel and might. Fara could hear shouts from behind. Though he dared not turn, nor take his attention from the fight before him, he could tell that the column was being attacked from the other side of the River as well. Fara cursed himself for not seeing the trap sooner.
With his arrows spent, Fara drew his sword and raced blindly onward. He made his way toward Ohtar, who was, by now, surrounded by the Orcs and fighting furiously to fend them off. Their best chance of surviving this would be to fight as one. As Fara came close, the furious Captain turned and swung at him. Fara, not suspecting this, quickly blocked the blow, but not before it nicked him in the shoulder. Ohtar stared at the mud-covered Elf before him in disbelief as the rain began to wash the filth from his fair features.
“Duck!” Fara yelled as he lunged forward and stabbed an Orc from behind Ohtar. “Let us fight as one!” Fara shouted. Ohtar nodded and turned his back to Fara, together, the two fought the oncoming attackers, struggling for their very survival.
The battle seemed to last for an age. Fara’s arms had grown weary, and his leg and shoulder throbbed with a fiery pain. The pumping of his blood, the roar of the River, the thunderous booms of the storm, the shouts of both friend and foe, and the clash of weaponry rang throughout the air, so loud that Fara found it hard to hear his own thoughts. The world seemed a haze of battle and rain.
Finally, a great horn blast cut through the air, repeatedly. The Orcs began to slowly retreat. Ohtar followed after them, racing in his rage to not let them escape. He was stopped when Fara grasped his arm. The ellon fell to his knees and began to breathe heavily. The battle was over, now was the time to regroup and gather their strength.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marissa watched as her love began to cross the raging River. She prayed that he would make it safely. It took several minutes for them to cross, for the River was wide and the current strong. Remembering what she had heard about the bridge being the perfect place for an attack, she turned her gaze from Fara to search the shoreline around her. To her relief, there was nothing in the area to signify anything was amiss.
“It is treacherous, yet it is doable.” Ohtar called from the other side of the River. Rissa smiled and sighed, at least they would be able to cross here. Ivor sent a command through the column.
“We cross here, but take care my warriors. This shall be no easy task.” He turned to Súl and Fae and spoke a few words. The two ellons nodded and made their way to the middle and end of the column, respectively. Rissa assumed Ivor wanted his best men spread through the column to help those who might need their aid.
Ivor began his crossing, the column followed behind. They went slower than Fara and Ohtar had, being cautious of the raging waters below them. The horse next to Rissa’s slipped and fell to its knees, throwing its rider into the water. Rissa reached out and grasped the poor, wide-eyed man’s hand before the current could carry him away. His horse was not so lucky though. It began to be swept downstream, though it still managed to swim back to the shore. Rissa hung desperately to the man’s wrist, fighting to keep him against the force of the current. Súl, who had been only a short distance behind them, quickly approached the two. He positioned his horse next to the man and let the current help the man to mount behind him.
Rissa breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as the man nodded in appreciation. The middle of the column was about a third of the way onto the bridge, while Fae and the end of the column had not even begun to cross yet. Fara’s voice pierced the roar of the river and the raging storm.
“Turn back!” He shouted. “It is a trap!”
Rissa caught her breath quickly as she looked to her love, just in time to see the arrow strike him.
“No!” She shouted. She urged her horse forward, but it was no use, she had to wait for the horses in front of her to go first. She heard shouts from behind and turned. Orcs were racing up the path they had just arrived on. Apparently, they had been waiting some distance away, so as not to be noticed. With the slow going on the bridge, they would have plenty of time to arrive for the attack. Rissa cursed. The trap had been sprung, but which way would she go? She was closer to the shore behind her, but her love needed her on the other side of the River. Her head spun as she debated. Finally, she determined that by the time she arrived on the other side of the River, it would be too late to help Fara, yet she would be able to help those behind her.
She tightened her grip on her horse’s reigns and pulled them forcibly to the left, making her horse turn. She urged it back over the bridge, where Fae and the others were valiantly fighting off the attackers. She heard a shout from behind her as someone was carried down the River. There was nothing she could do for them, so she pressed on to the shore. When she arrived, she dismounted and drew her sword. The attackers were too close now for her bow, this would be a melee fight. Rissa fought with all her strength, the adrenaline raced through her body and she pressed on, through the falling rain. Lightning struck a nearby tree and shattered the air with a tremendous crackling of sound.
The horses screamed and the river roared as they fought for their very lives. Finally, all the attackers from their side of the River had been dispatched, for the vast majority of the column had returned to the bank to fight. Rissa turned and searched the opposite shore, desperately searching for Fara. There were but a few warriors on that side of the River, the few who had managed to press on and successfully cross. They were greatly outnumbered yet they fought fiercely. Rissa wished to cross the River to help them, but found that the bridge was inaccessible due to the others who were already on the structure. All she could do was to follow after them, and watch, hoping they would make it across in time to help the others.
After many minutes, more warriors began to reach the other side. The Orcs, realizing any further attempts would be in vain, began to retreat. The low, hollow sound of a horn permeated the falling rain. The Orcs were in full retreat. Rissa was still only two-thirds of the way over the bridge at this point. She watched Fara as he grasped Ohtar and then fell to his knees. Her love was hurt and needed her.
[Edited on 28/4/2004 by maeghin]
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| Rudhwethiel |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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| Faenauliel |
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| Nifredil |
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| maeghin |
RE: Dartho Annin An-uir: Be With Me Always
on: May 18, 2004 04:14
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Fara held to Ohtar’s arm, as though asking the man for his assistance. In his mind, Fara’s thoughts swirled, as did his sight. He was dizzy and light-headed, watching the falling rain as though it fell in slow motion. In his ears, all he could hear was the sound of his own heart… pounding, pounding, louder and louder, as though it would eventually make his head explode. The way his surroundings whirled about him, made Fara feel queasy, his stomach turning within him. He closed his eyes tightly, in an attempt to block out the nauseous motion of the land, but that proved to be a bad mistake. He felt his stomach do one last flip as he fell to the Earth and all faded to black.
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Marissa urged her mount forth, fuming that the going was slow. She gasped as she watched Fara fall to the ground. Her heart seemed to beat still in her chest, as though it were her that lay wounded upon the ground. When she regained her breath, she cursed the rain, and the waters, and even the riders before her, for all of them hindered her way to her love. Finally, she reached the opposite shore. As her horse made its first step on solid ground, Rissa practically dove from his back, while she simultaneously flung her bag of healing supplies over her shoulder.
“Fara.” She called, unable to mask the terror in her quavering voice. Her heart raced uncontrollably, as she ran, leaping over the carcasses of Orcs which strewn the land. When she made it to her love, she dropped to her knees. Ohtar was already leaning over him, examining his wounds, when Rissa practically pulled Fara from him. She cradled his head to her chest and closed her eyes.
“May the Valar spare him.” She whispered in a shivering voice. Tears fell from her eyes as she lowered him to her lap and studied his fair face. Her shaking hand gently brushed the strands of his hair back so she could see her love clearly. His skin was pale, almost white. Rissa choked back a sob and froze. She was a healer and knew what she must do, yet she found that she could not even move. She sat there, holding him upon her lap, lost in a mist of confusion and fear. Her lips shivered and her chest faltered, all strength fled from her limbs.
She turned her tear-streaked toward Ohtar. The man seemed to sense her fear, he nodded his head, as though telling her that he had faith in her.
"He's alive, but his wounds need to be tended." The Edain Captain urged her.
Marissa pursed her lips and the haze began to clear before her eyes. She took the bag from her shoulder and began rummaging through it, searching for bandages and healing herbs. She knew the most important thing at this point was to keep the bleeding to a minimum, and only pressure applied to the wound would remedy that.
"Press the wound," She ordered Ohtar, forgetting that he held a higher status than she. She tore Fara’s pant leg just above the wound, enough so that she could get a clear look at the wound and be able to easily clean it. She poured a mixture over it, which made Fara groan in pain.
She looked up to his face, twisted in pain. Her breathing faltered once more, and she wished only to hold him tightly and comfort him. She felt terrible for causing even more pain to her love, yet she knew that if she didn’t, his life may be forfeit.
“Im naer, melmenya.”* She whispered. When his leg was bandaged, she turned her attention to the cut on his arm. It was not large, yet it was very straight and clean, something she thought odd for an Orcish weapon, which usually tore the flesh. Ohtar stood, and Rissa looked up to him, something was bothering the Captain. Rissa assumed he was just recovering after the battle and left it at that. She then resumed her efforts on Fara’s arm, and soon it was cleaned and bandaged.
Rissa breathed a sigh of relief. The hard part was over, now all there was left, was for Fara to heal. She bent and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. They were so cold. She sighed and bowed her head. Then, she noticed something mixed in with the mud. It was blood. Her body froze and she caught her breath. Frantically, she began examining him. There had to be another wound. She grasped his heavy outer tunic and pulled it open, yet there was no blood to be had on his chest. She took his shoulder and gently rolled him onto his side. Her eyes misted over as she caught sight of the broken shaft of a black arrow, still protruding from his back.
“Ai!” She gasped. “Somebody help me!” She yelled, knowing that she was not strong enough to pull the arrow out herself. Someone came quickly and knelt next to the sobbing elleth. They took the arrow firmly in their hand and pulled it straight out. A rush of blood followed the point and the person placed their hand securely on the wound. Marissa just stared.
“This cannot be happening.” She whispered. “Not to you, not to us.”
“Marissa, what do you want me to do?” the person asked in a soothing, yet urgent voice.
Rissa snapped back and stared at the person, though the mist had once again shrouded her sight. She closed her eyes tightly, forcing a stream of tears down her cheeks. When she opened them once more, she found she could see clearly. She took out the same mixture she had used on his leg and a large wad of cloth, which she would use as a compress. She nodded to the person, who took their hand away. Quickly, Rissa poured the fluid on his wound. Fara weakly gasped as the fluid began to burn. Rissa quickly placed the cloth on the wound and signaled the person to take it and hold the pressure once more.
“The herbs will promote the thickening of the blood, and also sanitize any dirt that may have gotten into the wound.” She explained, although she was talking to no one in particular, merely reciting what her teacher had taught her. “Now, we must bandage the wound. Do not remove the original cloth from the wound, for it will help to stop the bleeding quicker. Wrap the bandage tightly about chest.”
She looked down to Fara as she began to take off his tunics. This proved tricky, since they still needed to apply pressure at the same time. But, eventually, they managed. She took out a long, strong strip of cloth from the bag and began to wrap it around his chest. When it was fully wrapped, she sat down next to him. She was exhausted by now. The person, who had come to help her, placed their cloak on the ground, so that Fara would at least be out of the mud. Rissa rolled him over and placed her own cloak over his bare chest. She began to gently clean the mud from his face with a fairly clean piece of cloth. The person who had assisted them, must have decided to leave the two alone, and took their leave, without a word. Rissa was too preoccupied with Fara to even notice they had left.
After what seemed an age of waiting, though it was only a little less than a half hour, Fara slowly opened his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Rissa placed a gentle finger to his lips.
“Avo bedo, melmenya.”* She whispered softly to him. She knew now that he would be just fine. He smiled to her and raised his hand to place gently on her cheek. Rissa placed her own on top of it and smiled down at him.
“You had better never do that to me again.” She admonished him, yet her voice was still gentle and slightly shaky. Fara only smiled in return. They remained there for some time, sharing tales of their view of the battle. Fara purposely left out the part about Ohtar mistaking him for one of the Orcs, he knew the Captain must feel extremely awkward about it, and he would speak with him later about it. For now, he tried to rest, and regain his strength. Rissa’s healing skills would see to it that he could at least ride again, at least until they reached Tharbad, which was still a days ride ahead of them. They would have to see how far his healing had progressed until then, whether he would continue with the party or be left behind to heal.
*”I’m sorry, my love.”
*”Do not speak, my love”
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| Rudhwethiel |
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| maeghin |
RE: Dartho Annin An-uir: Be With Me Always
on: June 01, 2004 08:27
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Fara thanked the Valar for Marissa. The woman who held his heart proved to also be his savior, and strength. After she had healed his wounds, she fashioned a sling from a strip of cloth. She helped Fara to sit upright, which he protested and insisted he could manage himself. She placed his left wrist in the sling.
“There, that should take some weight off of your shoulder. But you should still be careful for a day or two; we wouldn’t want that wound to reopen. All in all, you should consider yourself lucky. If that arrow had struck but a little to the right, you may well be under the ground right now with the rest of our fallen comrades. I still don’t understand how…” Rissa trailed off when she noticed Fara wasn’t listening to her. His attention was turned, rather, to the men as they dug the graves.
Fara was disappointed in himself that he could offer no assistance. He sat on the solid ground, and watched. When the last grave was covered, Marissa helped Fara to his feet. She wrapped his cloak about his shoulders and clasped it over his right shoulder so that he would still have movement in his uninjured arm. Together, they walked to where the others had gathered around the fresh mounds of dirt.
Soon, Ivor’s voice melodically began the song of mourning, and the other Elves joined in. When the song was over, Fara was about to turn, when he heard Fae’s clear voice rise up once more in a gentle lament. Fara turned to face the ellon, wishing that he could lessen the pain evident in Fae’s heart. His eyes misted as he listened, every word ringing a chord within his heart. Rissa’s soft hand gently took his and he squeezed it. He could never imagine the pain that would reside in his heart if he were to lose her for real. When Fae finished, Fara wrapped his arm about Rissa’s shoulders as they turned away. Rissa took his draped arm and unconsciously caressed his skin. She was concerned that his strength would give, so she hugged his waist with her other arm, masking her concern by making it seem as though she were merely holding him out of love.
Together, they approached Belerand. The stallion stood, pawing the ground, as he flared his nostrils. The smell of death still hung heavy upon the air, and it made the horse nervous. Fara removed his arm from Rissa and stroked his beast’s flanks.
“I know, mellon nín, I feel it too.” Fara whispered. Rissa glanced at him curiously, yet said nothing. Fara mounted, with her aid. Rissa’s mare stood nearby, waiting for Rissa to mount. She approached it and took its reigns, then noticed there were several who did not have a mount, most of them being Ohtar’s men. Rissa winced. There was no way her mare would let one of the rough men mount her. She scanned the group again, this time, spying Cirya, horseless. Rissa smiled. Not only would she be helping the other elleth, but it would give her a good excuse to ride with Fara.
“Lady Cirya.” Rissa called out. Cirya turned and faced her. “I notice you are without a mount. Here, take Phalandria. She is a good mount and shall serve you well; at least until we arrive at Tharbad and you can find another mount of your own.”
Cirya looked slightly confused. “But how will you ride then?”
Rissa winked and nodded toward Fara, who sat somewhat slumped in his saddle. Cirya nodded in understanding. “Then I shall accept your offer.”
Rissa smiled widely. “Oh, and I should like to thank you for helping with the wounded.”
Cirya returned the smile. “No thanks are necessary.”
Cirya then mounted Phalandria. Rissa noticed the elleth look toward Captain Ohtar. Somehow, Rissa never seemed to miss anything. She knew something was odd about the look on Cirya’s face, but chose to say nothing about it, at least not yet. Instead, she took her leave and returned to Fara.
Fara helped Rissa mount behind him, and the elleth wrapped her arms about her love’s chest, feeling his warmth upon her skin. She rested her cheek upon his back, and together, they joined the column as it made its way to Tharbad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When they entered the city, Ivor made arrangements for the wounded. Rissa was determined that she should help in that area. Despite Fara’s protests, she helped him to a bed, though she did give in, and let him sleep with the company, away from the wounded. She found a heavy woolen blanket and covered him with it. He chose a place where he made sure he had a good view of most of the camp.
“I know you feel strong, but you should still gather your strength if you have any hopes of continuing in the morning.” She whispered as she kissed his forehead. “I shall return once I have seen to the rest of the wounded.”
Rissa pulled the blanket up to his chin and turned, leaving him alone. She surveyed the wounded, determining the best course of action. She decided to keep the seriously wounded together, that way they would be easier to keep watch over. She was grateful for Cirya’s help, though it was difficult to help the men to their beds. Rissa was not very strong, light and agile, yes, but strong, no.
Soon some of Captain Ohtar’s men stepped forth and offered their aid. Rissa accepted it with no hesitation. Soon, all the wounded were resting, and their bandages changed. Rissa was exhausted, and all she wished to do was rest. She made her way to Fara’s bed and slid in under the covers. The fair-haired ellon wrapped his arms about Rissa’s body as she placed her head on his chest. She fingered the strings of his tunic absentmindedly as she replayed the day’s events over in her mind.
Fara’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he stifled a laugh. Rissa turned her face up to look into his, in a futile attempt to discern what was so funny. Without a word, Fara nodded behind her, and Rissa turned to find Súl and Fae sitting next to one of the campfires. She watched, curious as to what they were doing that was so funny. Her eyes went wide when Súl pierced the ellon’s ear. She shook her head, and then suddenly remembered something. Quickly, she turned and stared straight into Fara’s eyes.
“What is it?” Fara whispered. Rissa smirked as she reached up and tweaked the cuff in his ear.
“Ai! What was that for?” Fara winced.
“I don’t think I need to ask who did this to you. But the question is, why? You know I hate those things.” She scolded him in a motherly voice.
Fara bit his lower lip. What would he tell her? That he had wanted one to remind him of her ‘betrayal’? No, that would certainly upset her, yet he knew he could never lie to her. He took a deep breath and began his explanation.
“You see, Súlfalas and his people mark their bodies when something happens in their life that marks their soul. I guess it’s their way of making sure they shall never forget.” He paused and rolled onto his back, his gaze turned toward the stars. Rissa, undaunted, rose upon one elbow and studied him.
“Well, that’s all well and good, though I can’t say that I agree with the custom. Yet, to each his own, right? But that still doesn’t answer my question.” She continued. “Why did you get one?”
Fara sighed. “Well, I thought you had… That is to say, I thought I had lost you.” He turned his blue eyes to her, longing for her understanding.
Rissa narrowed her eyes and sat up abruptly, folding her arms over her chest. Fara winced at the tongue-lashing he was inevitably going to receive. Yet, instead, when Rissa turned to face him, he could see the trace of a tear on her cheek. She snuggled back down next to him, holding him tightly.
“I am sorry, my love. I must have put you through great pain.” She paused as she tried to steady her quavering voice. “I am sorry.” It was all she could think of to say, yet those three words were all Fara needed. He knew now that Rissa was loyal to him, to the end.
“Do not trouble yourself over the past. My love for you is stronger now than ever.” Fara whispered as he kissed the top of her head.
Rissa turned her face up to his. “As is mine for you.” She returned, and they shared a gentle kiss before they rested for the night, wrapped in each other’s arms. Dawn would arrive all too soon, and the party would undoubtedly be off again.
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| Faenauliel |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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| maeghin |
RE: Dartho Annin An-uir: Be With Me Always
on: August 19, 2004 04:00
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At the first rays of dawn, Rissa rolled over to face Fara, only to find the flaxen-haired Elf already staring dreamily at her. A stray strand of locks dangled playfully across his cheek, which Rissa carefully tucked behind his ear, lingering only slightly to caress its very tip. Fara quickly, yet playfully grasped her wrist.
“Here now! Enough of that!” He laughed, “We should be getting up and seeing if there is any help we may be able to afford the others.”
Rissa smirked. “Okay then, let’s go.” She stated mockingly as she quickly rose to her feet. Fara tried to follow suite, but found the sudden movement far too much, and slumped back to the ground in a dizzied state.
“Hmph, I thought so.” Rissa smirked. Then, her smile faded and she knelt beside her love once more, gently caressing his wounded shoulder. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, her lips barley grazing it. “Why, my love, don’t you stay behind? You owe nothing to these people. You are not even one of them, my love. Why not stay here with me until you are fully healed, and when this whole ugly war is over, we can return home. I know the King will welcome you back.”
Fara quickly turned his head, withdrawing his ear from Rissa’s reach. He studied her expression keenly, determining that what she spoke came from her heart, and not her head. He closed his eyes. He truly did wish he did not have to see this war, for he had naught but a foreboding regarding its outcome. A dark shadow loomed in his mind and he feared the battle which lay before them. Yet, he had pledged his allegiance to these Elves, and Men, and he would honor his vows.
“I am sorry, my love. I wish things were as simple as that, but I have sworn my allegiance to these people and I mean to keep my word.” He took her hands tightly into his own. “If we do not fight against the forces of Mordor, then who will fight for us? If everyone stayed behind to weather the currents of battle, then there would be none to protect what is right and good and worthy of our efforts.”
Rissa nodded. “I knew you would say thusly. It’s just that…” She paused and pursed her lips while a solitary tear rolled from her eye. “I have a bad feeling that something terrible is going to happen… I do not know what, but my heart aches with every step closer to Mordor we take.”
Fara nodded and closed his eyes. He released a great sigh and Rissa buried her tear-streaked face into his chest. He stared out into the encampment, watching the few who had stayed outside the city gates, preparing for the day ahead of them.
“I know, my love, for I have felt it too. Yet we cannot run from our fears, we must face them with all the strength that we possess. The winds of fate move my feet, and I must follow along the path that has been laid before me.”
Rissa pulled back just enough to see into the tranquil blue eyes of Faramond. “I know my love, what is in your heart. If you wish to continue, then never again shall I try to dissuade you, but rather I shall follow you along every bend in your path.”
“Nay.” Fara smiled at her. “You shall not follow; you shall walk beside me, hand-in-hand.”
At that, Rissa smiled as well and shifted to place a gentle, yet meaningful kiss upon his lips. “Well, I think I will go find something for you to eat. You shall need your strength if you are to continue.”
Fara nodded. He followed Rissa as she quickly walked away, her graceful steps barely disturbing the thin veil of fog which had not yet completely lifted. It seemed only moments since she had left his sight when another joined him. Saida knelt beside him, her face slightly darkened with some unknown fear or worry.
“Saida, hiril nín, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?” Fara asked. Saida smiled at him, though Fara could tell it was a forced smile. Something was bothering the woman, yet Fara knew not of its origins. “Is something wrong?”
Saida only shrugged her shoulders. “It matters not. I am here to tend your wounds, Gon Faramond.”
Fara furrowed his brow. “But my wounds have already been expertly tended. What is this about?”
Saida gave a sigh of impatience. “Do not ask of me what I do not wish to tell.” She handed Fara a veil of liquid. “Here, drink this, is will make the process more pleasant…”
Fara took the liquid and smelled it. He knew of it. Its sole purpose was to render the imbiber unconscious. “Here now, what game are you about?” He insisted with a piercing glare at Saida.
Saida cleared her throat. Fara could sense there was something she was not telling him, nor did she wish to tell. After a prolonged period of silence, he shook his head dejectedly.
“Gon Ivorcheneb trusts you. I too shall trust you.” He finally said as he raised the cup to his lips and drank its contents. Soon, a warm feeling coursed through his veins and the tips of his fingers became numb. Saida knelt closer above him. He could sense her removing his bandages, though if he wished to protest, he found he could not. In a few moments, his surroundings began to blur and he found himself being pulled into a deep slumber.
***********************************************************************
“How do you feel?” Rissa’s voice quietly questioned.
Fara groaned as he shifted his weight, his entire body seemed to protest his every movement, though it did not feel sore, merely stiff.
“It’s hard to say. What happened?” Fara asked.
“Hmph, that Noldor witch had her hands upon you, that’s what happened. Tell me, did you enjoy yourself?” Rissa hissed.
Fara’s eyes shot open. What was his love insinuating? “Please Rissa, I assure you… It was not as it looked… I mean, I do not…”
“Rissa is it now? What happened to ‘my love’? Or have you found another to replace me already?” She spat indignantly.
Fara sighed and rolled his eyes. Rissa’s hot-temper began to rear its ugly head of jealousy. He knew she meant well and she could not help herself and her doubts.
“Fair Marissa, you know you have my heart, and I can give it only once.” He sat upright, and then noticed for the first time that he did not ache as he had before. His face twisted in confusion.
“What is it?” Rissa asked cautiously as Fara began to remove his bandages. “Did she hurt you? If she has…” But she did not get a chance to finish, as both their eyes went wide in wonder when they spied his almost fully-healed wounds. “But, how can this be?” Rissa asked aloud.
Fara smiled widely. He knew now why Saida had been acting so strangely, perhaps she feared healing him. Perhaps it caused her pain as well, he knew not, but what did know was that he owed her and apology and a sincere thank you. He turned to face Rissa, who still did not seem to grasp what was happening, or what had happened.
“My love, it was Saida. That is what she was about when she came to see me.” Fara insisted.
Rissa pursed her lips yet again, the anger had subsided somewhat. “As you say, my love. But I still do not…” She stopped short and forced a smile. “All that matters is that you are healthy once more.”
She bent forward and kissed his forehead. “Here, I gathered these for you to eat.” She told him as she produced a small plate of fruits, breads and cheeses. “Eat now and gather your strength. Night shall be upon us soon enough.”
Fara’s eyes grew wide in wonder as he examined the landscape. It was true; the Sun was neigh unto the tops of the hills. Sensing the confusion upon her partner’s face, Rissa whispered.
“You have been asleep most of the day… I was… I was beginning to worry about you.”
Fara shook his head as he finished eating his meal. “On the contrary, I feel great. My wounds no longer ache and that long rest has well replenished me.”
Rissa smiled weakly. “Then I am grateful the Noldor witch was able to do for you what I was not.” She stood quickly. “I am going to go into the city now and see if there is anything I can do there to help.”
Fara’s mouth opened to say something to appease her, yet the words would not come. He shook his head and sighed. “Ai Eru! Give me strength.” He pleaded toward the sky.
Moments later, the call went forth. “Orcs approach from the West!” A chill of fear traversed Fara’s entire body and his wounds of old ached anew with memory of their presence. Quickly, yet cautiously, he rose to his feet. The Numenoreans were rushing to the walls of the city, the one Fara recognized as one of Ohtar’s officers, was leading them, and trying to keep some semblance of order amongst them. Fara found his and Marissa’s steeds and lead them with all haste behind the gates of the city.
He wasted no time in climbing the stone stairs of the outer wall; bow in hand, with an arrow already set in place. He reached the top just in time to see Cirya being hoisted over the battlement. A shout came from Cirya, directed toward the ground. Fara leaned over to see Ohtar standing upon the ground, alone, with sword drawn.
“Why do you not open the gates?!” Fara demanded of one of the city guards. “My lord,” he replied, “The Orcs are upon us! It is either him or all of us!”
Fara growled and pushed past the man. He made his way to the section of the wall immediately above Ohtar. If Fara could not fight by his side, his arrows would sail to his aid. A black arrow flew past and Fara narrowed his eyes. The Sun’s light shown brightly as it began to set. It was a great red Sun this night, blinding to look straight into, yet toward it, they must look, for that was the way from whence the hoard was approaching. Undaunted, Fara raised his bow and took aim at the first Orc he could see. He let fly, his arrow, upon meeting its mark, threw down one of the approaching Orcs. Quickly, he had another arrow set and ready as he picked his next target.
Many arrows flew from the wall that evening and many were returned. Shouts from both sides rose to the skies, filling the air with the unmistakably wicked sounds of battle. Fara had little else in mind but to help protect Gon Ohtar. The Orcs were upon the wall now, and that meant that Ohtar would begin his defense. Fara tried to determine which Orcs posed the greatest threat to the Numenorean Captain, and those did not last long. For the most part, Fara picked off the Orc archers, allowing Ohtar to rely upon his own sword to protect him from the melee attackers.
The man standing next to Fara was suddenly struck, and he slumped forward. Fara quickly grabbed the man’s cloak and pulled him back. He had a better chance for survival if he was within the walls than on the ground where the Orcs would make short work of him.
When Fara returned his attention to the battle, his eyes grew wide with horror as they discerned an Orc archer which had taken aim upon Ohtar. Fara drew a quick breath and had readied an arrow to his bow. He took aim and shot, but he was too late. The Orc had already loosed his arrow as well. Fara could only hope that he had been quick enough to at least throw the archer off course, and his black arrow as well.
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| Rudhwethiel |
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Author
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“Careful!” Ivor teased as he nudged Celeg to move forward, “I just may decided to order you to go first!” 
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