It is the deepest hour of the night and all is still. Here, near the borders of Lorien, the autumn air is crisp and cool and a vagrant breeze chills the night still more. On cots and beds around this small, well-hidden clearing, both patients and healers are lying asleep. No moon is shining, and only the stars twinkling overhead give a faint light. Conditions are perfect for Goerhim's plan and if anyone was watching, they would see one of the sleeping figures in white stealthily begin to arise from his couch. A stick of some sort is clutched in one white-knuckled hand; and a muffled grunt emerges from his lips as he laboriously pushes himself upright. Swaying precariously, he takes a moment to make sure of his balance and then hitches one leg forward. Leaning heavily on his crutch, he makes his way inch by inch across the clearing; a look of determination hardening his expression. In another corner of the clearing, some noise has disturbed one of the healers who shifts in his sleep; almost, but not quite wakening. And Goerhim freezes. Long moments go by before he again begins to make his slow painful way towards the path leading away from the field hospital.


A few gentle sounds can be heard in the bracken to Goerhim's right. Soon, the top of a small, round head appears as a child emerges, crawling from beneath the bushes. When free, he hops up, not bothering to dust off his dirtied raiment as he peers around. A wide grin pops on his face as his eyes alight on the Forester, and unintentionally quiet footsteps bring him quickly to his brother's side. He asks, not quiet in this, "Where are you going? Can I come?"


As the pale moon lends it's glow upon the towering mallryn, a young learner's gentle strides guide her towards the field hospital, the cool autumn wind playing with a few strands of cinnamon hair. As she draws nearer, Liskelindele espies Goerhim and Iaurfer on the path leaing to the Field Hospital, curiosity etching upon her fair brow. She has a grey elven cloak wrapped about her thin shoulders while worry stains her hazel eyes, then her dulcet voice softly dances in the night air. "Mae govannen, mellyn. Would you be able to tell me where Maniedhel is this fair eve?"


In soft silence do footfalls tread upon trails obscured by the shadows, darkness shrouding them from all save for the eyes of an edhel. However, the same whispering stride slowly ceases in deference to a slight rustle amid the underbrush. Verdant leaves, cast varying hues of charcoal amid the night's twilight, then part as a veil... affording a solitary luminous figure to emerge from the concealment of the wood.

As Erethringil's guided steps do lead him in crescent approach, his absinthe eyes alight with soft serenity whilst this fair Sinda draws forward... pausing only once his gaze befalls a familiar elleth. With a sparked smile does the knight-bachelor then renew his zeal in approach, gently brimming words past his lips... which only linger as he catches sight of the other edhil "Mae Govannen, dear sister... and to you, Goerhim... tis good to see you upright. Though..." lilts Erethringil as he lowers his gentle gaze upon Iaurfer, his flaxen hair crowned with starlight from amid the taller vantage "... who might this be?"


"Shh!" Goerhim hisses, looking warily around, but it is too late. The same healer that had almost roused is now fully awake and on his feet. A few swift strides bring him to Goerhim's side where he stands, hands on his hips shaking his head. "Goerhim," he says quietly. "What are we going to do with you?" The forester directs a murderous scowl at his young brother. "See what you did? You woke him up. I was almost there, too!" His head swings around at Liske's question and Ereth's entrance just after, but he ignores them in favor of arguing with the attendant. Jaw set stubbornly, green eyes mutinous, he glares at the healer. "I.Am.Leaving." Each word is given full weight, and he turns his body slightly and swings his injured leg forward in an attempt to continue his journey.


The entrance of several others draws the healer's attention and he does no more than pace alongside the maimed forester, ready to support him at need. "Maniedhel is yonder," he says, jerking his head towards a low canopy. "But he is resting now. Please do not disturb him unless it is important."


Goerhim's murderous scowl is met quickly by a heated glare from the child. His high voice speaks in exasperated tones, "Well, if you were making an escape, you should have /told/ me to be quiet." He looks from the healer to his brother again, and then quick words tumble from his mouth, "Where are you going? Are you going all the way to the city tonight? I'll go with you. I think Caelwen was following me."

His face, ever with neck craned up to peer at the adults, glances briefly at Liskelindele and then Erethringil. He answers importantly, "I am Iaurfer.." then adds as an afterthought, "o Dinlom."


"I just wished to see my friend, but since he is taking a much needed rest, I shall come again later..." Liskelindele's melodious tone is quiet still as her slender hands pull the elven cloak tighter about her bare shoulders, warding off the crisp autumn breeze as she then nods towards her dear brother. "Mae govannen, dear brother and to you as well, Iaurfer. And a sweet namarie as well..." The worry for her friend becomes more evident in her dancing voice as she gently nods her cinnamon tresses to all gathered before her and then swiftly departs upon the path away from the Field Hospital underneath the pale moonlight.


Erethringil softly lilts whilst his emerald eyes stray from betwixt the two, though the slight chiding in his tone seems to perpetuate kempt mirth "Goerhim... if tis to the city you wish to tread, we might oblige? Though perhaps you should heed the healers... for they know what is best? Though perchance you might seek counsel of those within the Healer's Talan within Caras Galadhron?" Though Erethringil is at the threshold of offering more, Iaurfer's last offering seems to draw the knight-bachelor's soft attentions toward the petite edhel "Caelwen... is heading this way, little one?"


Angrily Goerhim turns on his little brother, an injudicious move causing him to wobble perilously. At the last moment, he manages to stay upright and frustration at his weakness makes his voice even sharper. "Did I have a chance to tell you anything? No! You dive straight in without even using the smallest amount of the sense you (I hope!) were born with! Next time, stop and look first!!" Breathing heavily, he swings his leg forward at the hip, and takes another step. An impatient glance is sent towards Erethringil and even though he tries to moderate his tone, the words still come out waspishly. "No, I do not wish to go to the city. I want to go back to my trees."


The healer eyes Erethringil consideringly. After a pause, he beckons the bachelor knight to his side and speaks to him in a low tone. Watchful eyes remain on the halting progress of his patient. "In truth, he is well enough to leave. There is little more we can do for him. But you see how it is." A sad expression fills his eyes. "He is not fit to go alone; if you would be willing to escort him at least so far as the grove near the city, I think he will do better if his mind is more at ease."


Iaurfer laughs, and lifts a hand to gesture to his brother as he wobbles. "You're a fine one to be shouting at me about sense!" Laughing still, the Silvan child returns his attention to Erethringil. "Aye, Caelwen's coming." His eyes suddenly widen a bit, "I forgot her! Now /she's/ going to lecture me about leaving her behind. I'll go get her...she's so slow." He dashes to the side, and crawls out the way he came.


Steadfast does an open hand rise amid a staying gesture, even as those twin emerald fix pointedly upon Goerhim... though Erethringil never loses his serene repose throughout. Rather, with tempered gentility does the knight-bachelor offer "Mellon... they have been here for scores of years, if not more. But further time biding to make sure you are well-mended shall not overly concern them. I bid you, though I understand your yearning... our lives are not so clipped as the second-born, that we must fret over days or weeks? Please, I do bid you... you have those that do love you and would wish to see you well, afore you seek to tend the to the mellyrn."

Erethringil quips a slight smile whilst he offers further "But... aye, I will escort you, if you do swear to keep an even pace, mellon. Perchance... we might talk whilst we tread?"


Goerhim stops his feeble attempts at walking and whips his head around to stare at Erethringil. He is learning, and doesn't come nearly so close to falling as last time. Astonishment and then naked joy erase all previous despair and complaint from his face. "Truly? I can go?"


Gentle is Erethringil's reply, even in contrast to the stare lent by his compatriot "Aye... mellon. And if you do need to rest, please... I bid you, be not too prideful. I am in no hurry, for tis day I am not on patrol. As well, perchance Caelwen shall catch up with us, for I know t'would please her to see you past the threshold of the healers' care."


In the first sign he has made that he truly understand the extent of his injuries, Goerhim's joyful smile twists self-mockingly. "I could not go fast did I wish to." Glancing down at his leg where the loose material of his pants sags abnormally, he says very softly, "And no doubt I shall have little choice about when I must stop to rest." But as swiftly as it appears, the discontented tone and look are gone; and with a hasty backward glance as if afraid the healer will yet leap forward and prevent his escape, he hobbles slowly towards the brushy, hidden path. Several halting steps later, he pauses and asks, "What did you wish to talk of?" He tries to keep his voice light, but weariness and pain color it despite his best efforts.


Erethringil's lips do press in quiet regard of your offering, his own fair brows in furrow whilst a soft lilt does travail "Mellon... I know 'tis disheartening, but... you are still with us? And though the darkness did seek to quell your passions, you have not been separated from the wood? Rather... tis just with an eased pace that you might undertake your duties." An ungloved hand but gestures to the slumbering wood, the shaded treetops obscuring the starlight to a din of soft grey.


Frowning, Goerhim brings light green eyes to rest on his companion's face. "Let us not speak of that. I .. do not wish to think of it." Limping, and leaning heavily on his crutch, he mutters under his breath when the toe of his foot drags and throws him off balance again. When they finally emerge onto the open path, he stops again to rest.


From the path ahead: voices. An exasperated feminine voice is followed by an excited child-voice.

"Aye. Wait, no. It did not have leaves, but small, sharp little things."


The child cries, "I want to see one!"


"No, you do not!" replies Caelwen sharply, the dappled shadows spilling over her as she comes into view, Iaurfer beside her and skipping a bit as he walks. "Honestly, Rhibi, do you pay no attention to your lessons at all? You do not want to leave the Wood." Caelwen's bright eyes lift to alight on the pair ahead. Her step quickens, near skipping as her youthful cousin does. "Erethringil! You do help Goerhim to leave this place? And Goerhim, Rosgwaen said you should not try to walk, when last I spoke with him."


Iaurfer but grins, "So you are escaping, then! You've become quite more exciting of late, brother."

Amid a soft 'chuff' does the knight errant offer toward Iaurfer "No... little one, he is not escaping. Rather did the healer give him leave to depart. Lest... you would think that one of the Order would aid another in fleeing tended care?" The furrowed sternness then melts to mirth as he eases his stride whilst Erethringil's emerald eyes befall the young edhel, though with a respectful not does the knight-bachelor follow in a gesture toward Goerhrim, in deference to his request.

However, that gentility again surmounts across Erethringil's visage whence Caelwen last delves into the fray. To her does the Sinda then lend a warm smile, whilst taking brief pause in company of a soft "Mae Govannen, Caelwen... tis a pleasure to see you this eve."


"Oh, but that was a long time ago." An adoring glow softens and lightens Goerhim's long pale face. "Besides he made me a crutch. Of course he meant for me to walk. Have you seen it?" Thoughtlessly, he lifts it to show her. Without the support, his leg crumples and the foot of the crutch returns to the ground with a thud. A groan is jerked from between clenched teeth as the forester half falls against a nearby tree. He struggles upright again and, ignoring his mishap, smiles at his cousin. A somewhat suspicious glance is given to Erethringil before he takes any notice of his small brother at all. And when he does, it is only to say irritably, "Go away, Rhibi. You are bothering me."


"You are in the Order?" Iaurfer asks happily. "I did not look at first. May I have an arrow?" He steps back as Goerhim looks to fall, and then glares at his brother. His foot kicks at the ground. "You are mean! I came all this way just to ask you about the wolf, and now you bid me to leave! Know you how long of a walk it is from Caras Galadhon? And I had to wait for Caelwen to keep up nearly the entire way!" He steps fitfully off the side of a path and plucks a long branch from the ground. This he uses to begin poking holes in the dirt.


Caelwen's chin ducks slightly in a faintly abashed gesture, and a merry smile is given to Erethringil. "This is a happy surprise. Why did you come to the hospital, dear heart?" She blushes faintly in the darkness, and steps closer to both edhil. The kennan parts her lips to reply to Goerhim, but here he does stumble. Her white hands fly to the forester, and she looks worriedly upon him, but the expression soon melts to a glare that matches Iaurfer's. She leans forth and hisses near the forester's face, "Rhibi has been begging for weeks to come see you, and finally I did bring him. You should attempt some kindness." She pulls away quickly, and glancing down at his leg, she bites her lip and looks faintly guilty.


A wistful smile does then spark across Erethringil's features as he does take to a light bend in his posture, even as two bared fingers gently pluck a fletched arrow from the knight-bachelor's quiver. Then does the fair Sinda gingerly present the arrow toward the little edhel, whilst offering "Here you go... but I must implore you to take good care of that arrow. Though in turn, little one, I would ask your name...?"

The sudden movement seems to steal Erethringil's eyes from the youth, a fair brow arching in soft unison with his own welling concern... which but stays as Goerhim catches himself once more. However, tis Caelwen's beckon which seems to last draw the knight-bachelor's attentions, to whom he does offer in a softer timber "Why... I did come to meet your cousin amid a better circumstance, Melethril. Tis a boon that I might you alongside him... as well as this little one whom I know not belongs."


"I am sorry, Rhibi," Goerhim says shortly. "I don't wish to speak about the wolf. You will have to ask someone else." Caelwen's unexpected attack slackens his jaw and fills leaf-green eyes with confusion and shock. Ducking his head, he mutters, "He cares not for me. He only wishes to hear of blood and gore and teeth. I.." His voice falters and he takes a deep breath. "I don't wish to remember... let him ask of another." As fast as he is able, he begins to shuffle down the roadway; injured leg dragging, crutch thudding dully with each uneven step. Hoarse breaths rasp through open lips as he becomes more and more tired from his unaccustomed exertion, and a little ways down the road, he is forced to halt again. In the darkness beneath the tree-shrouded path, his slight form is vague and indistinct.


"I will, I will!" Iaurfer answers to Erethringil as he drops his stick and hurries to him. "I am Iaurfer o Dinlom. I thought I did tell you this already." The arrow is snatched from the bachelor-knight's hand, and his little fingers run along the shaft and test the dart's point. "My cousin Rosgwaen is a brave Gweth Tarn like you, you know," he adds importantly, and then begins to trail after Goerhim as the forester walks. He speaks to his brother. "But Caelwen did say that you were very brave and did battle a terrible beast!" His voice is slightly sullen. "Why will you not tell me of it?"


Caelwen's eyes lift to Erethringil again, and concern plows furrows in her brow. "Rhibi belongs to my aunt and uncle, though he has been my charge for the last day and looks to be for another day more, at least. I've lost him thrice already. He is Goerhim's brother."

Her voice drops softer, and she offers a low murmer to Goerhim, "...Aye. I do understand, mellon." Still she holds herself for a long while as the forester goes ahead. Her hand reaches out to brush against the back of Erethringil's, and then she steps forward to follow her kin, elfstone eyes mournful.


Erethringil's head dips subtly after Georhim's parting, his own voice waxing melancholy whilst he does offer toward the young edhel "Little one...?" professes the knight-bachelor whilst he kneels "Aye, I do know your cousin Rosgwaen, for he newly joined our ranks as a squire." Sparking a smile does the fair Sinda then professes "And tis a pleasure to meet you, Mellon. I am Erethringil o nos Raavindonserke, a knight-bachelor within the Order... and Caelwen has seen fit not to tell me about you, it does seem? But tis a pleasure to meet you, regardless..." In confidence does Erethringil lean forward, offering further "Your brother tis greatly grieved, little one? His leg does ail him... and to think on the wolf... does make him think of the sorrow of not being able to run, to jump, as you yourself may? It will take time, but he shall bear a smile anew... and someday tell you the tale.

Then do gentle eyes ascend toward Caelwen, to whom the knight does convey a tender smile "Melethril? Perchance he does need some time in solitude? Whence he is ready, he shall return."


Iaurfer turns again when the bachelor-knight speaks to him, and stands before him, digging a toe into the dirt. The arrow he taps against his knee. "Aye, I suppose. Mayhap I'll find someone else who was there...Caelwen does not like to speak of it, either." He leans forward to whisper noisily, idly digging his hand into the pouch at his waist, "You are Erethringil? Nay, she has spoken to /me/ naught of you, but I have heard!" An impish wink is given by the freckled little edhel, and suddenly he cries, "My blue pebble! I have dropped it!" He dashes back into the field hospital and stands in the middle of the clearing, eyes darting around frantically.


Caelwen stands beside the kneeling Erethringil, and her slim hand hovers over his shoulder, but does not touch it. Unsure, her eyes linger on Goerhim's stalled form. "Think you he will be safe, melethron?" she asks, worry painting along her words. Here, her hand does finally drop to his shoulder, and a small smile fits to her lips as Iaurfer speaks. When the child runs off, she speaks in a weary tone, "The fourth time now! Never will I keep him in my sight for long, methinks." Slower than her cousin, she turns and wends her way back into the clearing, a dance of it as she sways around the concealing branches. "Rhibi!" she speaks in a loud whisper, an eye to the wounded around her. "What have you lost? We will not find a rock among the grasses!"


In a languid exhale does a smugness again find its way across Erethringil's features, the others' parting beckoning from his kneel in deference to a return to full height. Then, as a light "Aye... he will be safe..." dwindles past the knight errant does he spur forward, whispered footsteps but falling as a hush upon the dew-laden path as he seeks to tail the parting elleth and her diminutive cousin.

[Here Loth had to leave; Ereth and Caelwen went back to the field hospital, but Ereth returned later to escort Goerhim the rest of the way to the city.]

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