((I'm ready for morning after this post. I don't want to drag this out too long))

"You just seem the type to never back down, even if ti mean fighting through grevious injuries and being an all around stubborn idiot. No offence, Deawen." He added, grinning sheepishly. "Its quite charming, until the point you almost die." Fearan paused as he heard some one call the midnight hour: it was his shift now. Hurridly he explained "We're at an old Dunedain watchtower, a long and hard days walk from where we were. We are here setting up a defence against the orc forces. So far I dare say that the outcome of this battle may not be entire destruction. Our position is quite defendable, and we have the high ground. I'm sorry Deawen, but I have to help finish the trenches." Fearan smiled a farewell and exited the tent.

Almost all of the hard labor had been done. Fearan, as well as a couple others, were handed torches and told to inspect the trenches, to be sure they were complete. Though it took several hours, he was grateful that he wouldn't have to fight with a sore shoulder. As he trudged back towards his tent he passed by Arandur. "You should be resting." he commented.

Deawen stayed awake for a few hours after Fearan left. She mulled over the recent news and found she was uneasy. If the battle turned ill she was stuck in the thick of it and had no chance of escape. Then she wondered why she was here in Fearan's tent? Deawen finally went back to sleep and didn't wake until morning.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Arandur brushed Fearan's comment aside, "I need to keep watch." He paused, then as if coming to a resolution, let out a breath and said, "Fearan I...can't ask you to stay. Take Deawen and go while you two still can. I dare say she's done nothing wrong beside annoy a few people, and if she went alone, she wouldn't last a night in her condition."

Fearan nodded. He had been mulling the same thought over and over. He had been lying to Deawen. Though they had the high ground and protection, there was still a very slim chance of success. As much as he didn't want to abandon Aradur and his men, the thought that Deawen was being kept against her will and couldn't even fight to save her life(which it would come down to were she to stay in the watchtower, Fearan knew) was even more dispicable in Fearan's eyes. "Thank you, sir." Fearan nodded. He wanted to say somthing grand before he left, but nothing came to mind. He trotted off silently to find his horse as well as Deawen's.

Just as the horizon lightened the littlest bit did Fearan make it back to his tent. He was leading Deawen's Bredol and his own Silwen, both of which were tacked. "Deawen!" He called. He nudged her. "We're leaving. Come on."

Arandur watched him go. Although at any other time he would have been glad to have Fearan there, this was different.

He turned away, to face the eastern horizon. It was only a matter of hours, now. The orcs would have long since known their location, and no doubt marched through the night. A grim smiled played across his lips; no, it would not be long now.

He made for his own tent then, and donned his armor in preparation. He strapped hardened pauldrons on over the mail of his shoulders, and splinted grieves to protect leg and shin, giving himself a shake to settled them. He strapped on sword and dagger, and lastly picked up his bow and quiver as he left his tent.

Maenel woke as light crept over the horizon. She was still tired, but felt better indeed. She changed into a new gown, more blue than grey, and put a pot to boil over the smouldering embers. She tossed birch bark to restart the flame, next sage, last pine. The smoke was fragrant and woke up the soldiers still recouperating. They murmered their good mornings before sliding back under. When the water was boiling, she put her surgical implements carefully beneath the steam and decided to go for a walk. She could sense the discomfort around the camp, and knew the enemy must be drawing near. The cool morning air must be enjoyed before it was mangled with dust and screams and bloodied mud. She went to the edge of the escarpment and faced the morning.

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Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

Deawen stirred and sat up still drowsy. " Leaving? Why?" she asked nervously she tried to read his face to see if it betrayed any hint on why they were leaving. Had the battle already started? Had it gone ill? these questions raced through her mind as she fastened her cloak about her shoulders.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Its going to get nasty here. This is no place for aprisoner, much less a wounded one. If we leave now, there's a chance you can still make it out alive." Fearan looked at Deawen and extended a hand. "Come on, I've got Bredol tacked."

Deawen frowned but didn’t say anything she had to bite back a rude remark on being cowardly but even she knew she couldn’t fight with such an injury.
Deawen was glad she had spent time training Bredol to kneel on his front knees. She coaxed him down and then gingerly sat in her saddle making sure her foot was in the stirrup before letting Bredol up.
That strange feeling of tension was ever present, Deawen felt slight remorse for leaving but then again this wasn’t her fight yet.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Maenel tore herself from the sunrise and went to check up on the soldiers in her tent. She sent three of the seven back to the ranks, their fevers gone and their stitches healing well. Another was well enough to leave but was forbidden from fighting, though she suspected her would disobey her. The last two would stay with her. One had been unconcious for days and would be put on the floor of her quarters to make room. The last had lost his left arm at the elbow. Unable to hold a shield, she requested his help for the battle. He was more than willing to accept the task to break up the tedium of the medical tent. With all of the cots emptied, she took up a large chest of linen strips that had been provided for bandages. She began to roll them, letting her nerous energy show in the movement of her fingers and the tapping of her foot under her dress.

_________________
Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

Arandur returned to the escarpment just as Deawen and Fearan, both mounted, neared the make-shift bridge that was the only way across the ditch. He glanced toward the rising sun, and saw in the distance a glint of reflected sunlight. But that instant was enough; he knew that it had reflected off a blade. They were still over a league away, but before two hours were past, they would be swarming around the tower like a sea.

"They come."

Hoisting himself onto his mare's back Fearan nudged her forward into a slow canter. He made his way over a small bridge, saluting to Aradur who watched. Every couple of moments he checked over his shoulder to make sure Deawen was following.

Deawen followed silently though she sighed an awful lot. It wasn't long before her leg was starting ache from the movement of the horse she squirmed in her saddle but kept quiet. Deawen sensed silence would be needed if they were to go unnoticed.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

The men were roused, and they assembled, armed and ready, in orderly ranks on the trampled grass. Arandur survayed them - eager, tense, nervousness; all showed on their faces. They had followed him so far, doing his bidding and trusting in his judgment to lead them. And he had brought them here.
He bowed his head, eyes closed agasint what he had done, and what he must now do.

He took a position where they could all see him, and spoke.
"Men of Gondor, we are here this day because we seek to conquor the evil of this forsaken land. We are here to forge a road into the heart of Arnor, so that one day, our people will live in saftely, free from wars and at peace with all. But the forces of evil are arrayed against us. Even now, countless numbers of orcs approach; they will beset us on all sides, they will seek to crush us under the weight of despair, but we will fight them! We will batter them, and send them to the abyss from whence they came!" His words tasted like ashes in his mouth, even as a resounding cheer rose from the throats of three hundred men.

Maenel heard the men assemble and went to watch them. She took her place next to Gannel. The sight of the men raising their swords and cheering for their commander brought chills to her body. Similar sights and sounds had accompanied her beloved's fall. She force the feelings away again, so as to keep them hidden from her teacher. He turned to her, oblivious, and asked, "Are you ready, my lady?" She clenched her teeth and nodded grimly. "Yes, Master."

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Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

Fearan caught Deawen squirming in her seat. "Do you need a rest?" He asked, concerned. "There are small caves in these hills. We're far enough away now that we can stop." He glanced behind him. The early sun reflected harsh glares of the weaponry. From this far away the battlefield seemed to glitter. He felt remorse for not fighting. This was his land and he should fight to keep it safe, not run like some coward.