When Deawen spurred her horse, Ránëmírë immediately ran toward Cricket and mounted him. The horse started as soon as she was in the saddle, running right behind Lesao, who had mounted her horse and was also riding after Deawen and Tarcil. They had a head start, but Ránëmírë was able to keep them in sight. The guards looked somewhat surprised at these horses running through the city, but let them through.
As soon as they stopped at the ruins of Osgiliath, Ránëmírë moved Cricket next to Deawen's charger and turned in her saddle so that she could speak to Tarcil. "Before we go any farther, I would like you to tell what you know about why we are doing this," she demanded.

"Up Screamer!" yelled Czarra and spurred her horse in the side. He sprang off after them, reaching full stride in a few meters. Know one stopped then at any of the gates, the ran stait thought the city and out in to the night. Czarra reined in on the other side of Tarcil. Screamer blew and stomped

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I was Nymphadora Tonks

Tarcíl, first surprised at Deawen's sudden move, moved the dagger back to her throat unaware of the pressure he'd put on it. "Stop" he hissed in her ear but then suddenly she shhouted to open the gates. One by one the guards obeyed her call. What was she doing? he thought and as they raced over the fields towards Osgiliath he laughed outloud at his own luck, at Deawen's stupidity perhaps, but moreover he just laughed at life.
They slowed down when they'd reached the ruins and he noticed the others had followed him too. After hearing Deawen's comment he laughed again. "Release you?" he asked amused "No, we didn't have such an agreement. I've never said anything about letting you go.." After that he made Deawen dismount and bound her hands. "I'm sorry m'Lady but I'm affraid it is necessary."
Then he looked up at Ránëmírë. "I'm sorry miss but I don't have to tell you anything. I didn't ask you to come with me nor to assist me. Your help is appreciated but don't bother me with silly questions."

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Amaran had only manged to settle into the saddle when Czarra sent Screamer into a gallope. He held on tightly, half wondering if he was scqueezing the life out of Czarra.
By the time they had reached the city walls, Amaran was sure he was going to die. He had only been on a horse twice before, and both times hie was the only one in the saddle, and he had stirrups. As it was now, Amaran felt he'd be thrown to the ground at any moment. He shut his eyes and gripped with his legs, refusing to untense until the horse had come to a complete stop by ruins of Osgilliath. He slid to the ground, watching as Tarcil bound Deawen's hands. Amaran's breath was ragged and he was slightly hunched from the uncomfortable ride. He glared at Tarcil, as if to say "Don't say a word" He doubted that glrae would work, however.

oh how Deawen wanted to push Tarcil off the horse and run, but before she could Tarcil made her dismount. Her hand was drenched in her own blood from the cut she recived. She watched Tarcil bind her hands blankly
without protest though her hand started to hurt she did not complain. when he had finished Deawen sighed as if bored with the whole affair.
" Agreement or not common law states that I have done what i can to aid you and I have now release me!" her voice finally matched her age it no longer took her usual smoothness and devious tone instead it was more urgent and stressed. " Release me... Please" the last word came haltingly and quiet.

_________________
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

Dismounting, Ránëmírë sighed. "If you will not tell why we are doing this, perhaps you will at least tell me your name?," she asked. "I prefer to be able to call traveling companions by something. My own name is Ránëmírë. I would also like to know something about what we are going to do next." Ránëmírë was annoyed at the impudence of this man and it showed in her voice. She was not used to having her questions termed as silly, nor was she usually addressed in such a manner. As an elf, an immortal being, she had always before been treated with at least a semblance of respect.

Tarcíl caught Amaran's glare but didn't understand what he meant by it so instead he replied to Deawen indifferently: "You and your people locked me up numerous times. Now you will know what it feels like.."
He nodded to Ránëmírë: "The name is Tarcíl. Now if you would keep an eye on that Lady over there..?" With those words he left her and walked over to Amaran. He poked him on the shoulder and said quietly. "Come.. we need to talk."

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Deawen scowled at Tarcil's reply " you broke the law what was I supposed to do look away and pretend nothing happened? Oh whats the use... arguing with you is like arguing with a rock unmoving when you came unmoving when you left!" she vented

_________________
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

Czarra watched Amaran slid off the back of Screamer, and laughted sightly. She reined Screamer over to were Ránëmírë was, "I'm Czarra," she told her, "And this is Screamer," she added, patting her horse's neck.

_________________
I was Nymphadora Tonks

Amaran straitened, suppressing a groan. "Alright" He muttered, stretching his strained calfs. "What about?" He peered at Tarcil intently.

Deawen sat down sorely missing her cloak If Tarcil wasn't going to let her then she would escape herself. Deawen noted her sword belt was still with her she laughed inside stupid tarcil... Deawen took out a very small knife and began to saw the cord away. she was careful and quiet as she cut her bonds once free of them she crouched tightening her laces on her boots she didn't plan on taking the horse as he was spent she could manuver much better on the ground anyway. she counted backwards from five before sprinting towards Minas Tirith. her heart was racing but not from the running from the thrill of adventure.

_________________
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

"Greetings," Ránëmírë replied to Czarra. "I am Ránëmírë and my horse is named Cricket." She was distracted by the sight of Deawen escaping, but paused long enough to be polite. "If you will excuse me, we can continue this talk after the escaping prisoner has been recaptured." Not waiting for an answer, she remounted and urged Cricket toward Deawen. In a few minutes the horse's long legs had caught up with Deawen and Ránëmírë tried one of the oldest tricks in the book. Bringing both feet out of the stirrups and moving Cricket as close to Deawen as she could get him, she leaped onto Deawen's back, effectively knocking her over.

Deawen kept running even when the horse was as close as possible but she smiled to herself without warning she dropped to the ground the horse kept running she noticed the rider had just missed Deawen by a few seconds she was also on the ground. She just sighed and got to her feet she was slightly out of breath but she kept running. " nice try" Deawen commented passing the Elf.

_________________
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

(Looking back, I realize that my last post was a little Mary-sueish and silly. My apologies for the poor quality of the post.)

Ránëmírë picked herself up, frustrated. This adventure was not going the way she had supposed it would. She called to Cricket and the horse turned around and came back to her. Remounting, she considered what to do next. What was the point of catching the escaping woman? She had already aided them and it was unlikely that she would now bring any force to capture them. Even if she was planning to, it was a long way to the city and a long way back to the ruins. With these thoughts in her mind, Ránëmírë turned and rode back to Czarra. "I am sorry for the interruption," she said.

"About what next.." Tarcíl replied Amaran and he nodded to the place where the three ladies just had been. He remained silent when he noticed two of them were gone, he watched the scene on the fields. As Ránëmírë approached the ruins again, Tarcíl shook his head. "We're dead."

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

(rewind....I decided that my course of action wasn't the greatest for the plot so forget my last two posts. I'll just leave it as Deawen is captured)

_________________
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