(Archive) In the bunker

Too weary to sleep, a lone woman sits in the dark shadows of the infirmary. Aearwen\'s eyes flit over the men\'s sleeping faces as she gently rubs the back of her neck, weary and tired of being in this place as she longs for home and her loved ones. Sighing softly as her fingers massage the stiffness in her neck. Rising from her chair, she walks to the door of the infirmary and pulls it open for a moment, just to smell the fresh, chilly air rush in for a moment.

No crutch and much less limp than a few days before, Rorgan still paces the infirmary at this hour, a caged animal prowling an empty zoo. He walks slowly down one wall, and around to the next, his giant feet making only the smallest noise in his passing.

Awakened by a couging fit, Azragath grimaces and sits up, grasping the edge of his cot for support. Swallowing painfully, he makes as though to swing his legs over the edge of his cot, but his legs catch under the covers and slow him. He struggles for a moment, face growing more crimson by the moment, and finally rasps out a whopper of an oath that winds down with \"... in this bloody fish-gutted worm hole.\"

Turning suddenly at the raspy oath coming from across the room, Rorgan blinks at the man struggling to rise from his cot and begins to make his way toward the man, between the rows of cots.

Aearwen turns from the door, chuckling to herself as she hears Azragath let loose with a steady stream of unmentionable words. Struggling to keep the smile off of her face as she walks over to his bed, her eyes twinkling, she asks, \"is there anything I can help you with? I was not quite able to make out your words as I walked this way.\" Laughter playing across her face as she grins. Aearwen turns her head as she see\'s Rorgan approaching the bed, her eyes level with his, she just nods and smiles.

Finally making his way to the waking man\'s bed, Rorgan takes a moment to share a look with the healer before turning his attention back to the soldier and quietly intoning, \"If there is anything I can do to assist you, My Lady.\"

The priceless scowl painted on Azragath\'s face turns only slightly regretful as the woman approaches him the man\'s discomfort and displeasure apparantly outweigh his sense of decorum. One bandaged arm pinned to his side, he struggles to pull the covers free one more time, then heaves a sigh. \"I need to stand,\" his voice scrapes like oft-trod gravel, \"Let me stand!\"

Rorgan reaches down to assist the man with removing the covers, \"Here, let me help you a bit.\" He does not give the healer even half a glance of askance before he continues, \"Let\'s get these blankets out of the way first.\"

Aearwen frowns as she moves to assist Azgarath, her eyes shooting daggers at Rorgan. Finally she hisses out, \"you do not need to be doing this. If you want to help, then sit in that chair and keep him company as I work. Maeghan will have your head if she finds out you have been doing something to aggravate your injuries, and do not think that I wont tell her. \" Aearwen jerks at the covers, pulling them out of the way, so Az can swing his feet over the bed. Her hands hold onto to his arms, helping him in his efforts.

Rorgan stands back up straight and sighs deeply before hotly hissing to the healer, \"I am well enough for this, but as you wish.\" He sighs again and reaches out to drag a chair nearer, scraping the legs loudly across the floor as he does so.

Azragath finally is able to pull his legs free, and shoots a bemused look at Rorgan as the other man is dressed down for his efforts. Now that he\'s no longer entangled, the Dol Amrothian\'s temper seems to have dissipated. Gingerly he tries to stand, using his unbroken arm to push himself up into a wobbly stance.

With a wince and a few blinks at new pains which announce themselves, he promptly sits again, good hand straying to his chest. Looking down, he feels a bandage over his sternum. \"What happened here, \" he croaks, looking to the healer for some answer.

Aearwen scowls over at Rorgan at his words, her frown marring the beauty of her face as she glares at him. Spitting out sharp words she says, \"let the healers be the judge of what you are well enough for. Your very actions indication you are not well.\" Her attention back to Azragath, she smiles and encourages his efforts, \"that\'s it, slow and easy\" her arm around his waist as she helps him to his feet. She feels his body trembling as he stands and gently helps him returning to a seating position. Her eyes look down to the bandage on his sternum and she answers his question, \"you were hit with a spear. Thankfully the armour stopped most of the blow, however, it did slightly pierce the bone there.\"

Azragath absorbs the healer\'s report with some interest, nodding along as though she has announced the weather and swimming conditions in the river. He juts a thumb over at Rorgan, \"Didn\'t let the Tailor do the stitching, I hope?\" With a sly grin, he begins to chuckle, which unfortunately breaks down into a furiously subdued coughing fit.

Rorgan leans himself downward into the chair. As he watches the other man\'s efforts to stand, his eyes soften a bit, but as the healer\'s words reach him they blaze again, and he stops, half in the chair for a long moment before rising the rest of the way to his full height, fists clenching and unclenching as he glowers at the healer until the soldier again speaks and diverts his attention. He stares at the man again, looking into his eyes deeply for a moment as his face goes blank and then lightens slightly as he replies, \"Nay, Sergeant, still it is only cloth that they allow my needle to touch.\"

Aearwen giggles at Azragath\'s words, \"actually, the tailor might have done the stitching \", winking at him as she goes on to say, \"would you like some herbal tea to help with that congestion?\" Very aware of Rorgan\'s actions, Aearwen feels her irritation grow. Her eyes glittering with unspoken anger as she looks over at him.

Azragath frowns as his coughs subside, shooting a look toward Rorgan with unbridled fury in his eyes. He spits, \"Its \'Private\', now.\" It is now his own turn to clench and release his fist, shaking his head with disbelief. Heaving a sigh, he simply nods to Aearwen\'s question, the flame in his eye still glowing.

Pointedly ignoring the healer, Rorgan again makes an effort to sit in the chair, this time sinking down until his buttocks touch the seat, \"That\'s twice you\'ve mentioned me being a tailor, uhm.. private... You were in the Drover\'s, the night the Dol Amrothians arrived, but I believe we were not introduced then... You are familliar to me, yet I can not place you other than in rank.\"

Aearwen\'s footsteps click on the stone floor as she walks to the hearth to prepare a cup of tea for Azragath. She mixes the herbs and then pours boiling water in the cup, stirring it gently, the pleasant aroma of the herbs wafting up to her nose. Returning to the bed, she takes a seat beside Az and helps him take a few sips of tea.

Azragath takes the proffered tea gratefully, offering Aearwen a genuine smile that actually softens his hardened features, if but for a moment. Between sips, he nods to Rorgan and explains in painful whispers, \"I was Lieutenant in Dol Amroth. Knew you as Sherrif, sent by Denethor sometimes.\" Clearing his throat with obvious discomfort, he continues, \"Heard you once were Ranger... maybe lived in Rohan too.\" Coughing, he stops to catch his breath and gauge Rogan\'s reaction.

Sitting quietly, listening to the two men, Aearwen\'s eyes glance from one to the other as they speak. Quietly noting the congestion rattling in Azragath\'s chest, she lays one hand on his forehead for a moment, checking for fever, almost absentmindely as she continues to help him sip the tea.

Rorgan\'s eyes dance a little as he accesses the memories of days long gone by, \"Aye, that\'s all mostly truth. Long ago, I was a Sergeant in the Scouts of Minas Tirith, and then served in Ithilien. For a short time, I lived in Rohan, the land of my birth and of my mother\'s family. Upon my return, the Steward asked me to uphold his laws within the Pellinor, and I did so, along with what ever other errands Denethor saw fit to set me to...\" He nods to himself, \"I was also our emmissary to Rohan at the same time...\"

Rorgan continues, \"That was all before....\" He trails off, an expression of anguish crossing his face.

Azragath studies the seated Rorgan over the rim of his mug, lips pursing in consideration of the man\'s confessions. He glances toward Aearwen and then back, eyes narrowing some. \"Before what, Tailor?\"

Rorgan glances to the healer and back to the man before replying to the question, \"Before the world forgot about me...\" He pauses for a moment and then adds quickly, \"But I don\'t really wish to speak much of it while darkness still prevails outside, for in the tale I might name creatures who would grow stronger from the mention at such an hour.\"

Azragath studies the flagstones at his feet for a moment, considering Rorgan\'s words with a thoughtful nod. He scrapes, \"Then name them not. They are strong enough.\" Looking Rorgan in the eye, he adds, \"Welcome back to the living, Tailor.\" His expression is oddly intense, and he does not drop his gaze.

Aearwen\'s puzzled eyes look between the two men, not quite following the conversation. Turning to Rorgan she says, \"what does he mean, welcome back to the living?\"

Rorgan locks eyes with the man, but can not hold the gaze for long, \"I should say the same to you in return, sir.\" Instead of looking at the man, he turns back to the healer, \"Aye, My Lady. I was dead and buried in Rohan.\"

Rorgan clears his throat, \"But it was not my body that was buried,\" he hastily adds.

Shaking her head Aearwen says, \"dead and buried? From what? I do not understand what happened to you there.\" Softly she says, \"if you prefer not to answer my questions, I do understand. However, I am interested in hearing your story.\"

Azragath hands the empty mug back to Aearwen and settles back on his cot, lying on his side so as to watch Rorgan as he answers the healer.

Rorgan nods to the healer, \"Aye, My Lady, I suppose that this tale is fit to tell at this hour. But get the man some more tea first, because I only plan to tell it once.\"

Aearwen nods her head and rises to get Azragath another cup of herbal tea. Pausing, she turns back to Rorgan and inquires, \"would you like something warm to drink as well?\"

Lying on his side, Azragath seems unwilling to sit back up, and so waves off the second cup of tea with a rasped, \"I\'ve enough, thank you m\'lady.\" Whatever was in the first cup seems to have made him a bit drowsy, and heavy eyelids struggle to stay open.

Rorgan nods, \"Aye, My Lady, plain tea would suit me fine.\"

Aearwen returns with two cups of tea, handing one to Rorgan, she reaches to pull her chair closer to his. Slowly sipping at the hot drink, her eyes watch Azragath as he relaxes in the bed, her eyes noticing his breathing is clearer. Sighing softly, she speaks to Rorgan, but not of the tale is about to tell, but idle chit chat. Soft quiet words in the stillness of the infirmary, \"it s so nice to relax with a warm drink. I love this time of night, when everyone is sleeping, it allows me to be with my thoughts and resolve a lot of conflict. \"

Taking the cup of tea from the healer and wrapping both of his hands around it, Rorgan begins to speak in soft, unhurried tones, \"This tale begins, I suppose, in my earliest youth. My father, Yerl, was a tailor of great renown, and traveled freely wherever men lived to dress their rulers. He took a wife in Rohan, Cheryl, when he was still but middle-aged. Cheryl gave him a son, me, and also my younger sister, who was named after our mother, but his work grew heavy upon him as he aged, and when I was ten years old, he began to take me traveling to Edoras and to Minas Tirith. I wanted to be a rider of the Westmark with my cousins and young friends, but he forbade it, saying instead that I should learn his trade well enough for him to retire with my mother. Returning from one particularly long trek, to the city of Pelargir, we found that our home had been burned along with most of the rest of the houses in the village. The rest of our family was nowhere to be found, and in his grief, my father spirited me away to Minas Tirith, where I was raised. We continued to build his business, but I always insisted on joining the military and he always insisted on my being a tailor. Eventually, he even placed me in my own shop on the first tier, and continued on his travelling business, until he dissappeared some 5 years later.

Rorgan takes a sip of his tea, keeping an eye on the nearly sleeping soldier nearby, \"That was when I made up my mind to learn the skills I would need to avenge my mother and sister. I joined the Scouts of Minas Tirith, and rushed through the ranks. Eventually, I made contact with the remnants of my family in Rohan, and discovered that I also had a half-brother, Fiordor, whom had remained unknown to me. On an ambassadorial trip to Edoras, I learned that my half-brother had fallen in battle, and I rushed to the Westmark to find what news I could.\"

Rorgan pauses for another sip of tea and continues, \"The healer, Nineave, told me that things did not bode well for my half-brother, and the news sent me into a rage. I stormed out of the camp on my horse and rode straight for the near-by camp of Goblins who were responsible for his condition.\"

Aearwen sits sipping her tea, letting Rorgan tell his full story. Her eyes resting on his face, taking in every words as he speaks.

Rorgan smiles darkly, \"Before I reached the camp, my anger had abated to the point that I knew I would never succeed riding in against such numbers, and instead I left my horse and silently captured one of the sleeping Goblins to learn from whence they had come.\" He adds a dark laugh, \"The creature talked quick enough, once I had gotten it away from the camp, and I set off to end this threat to my homeland once and for all, or at least to find the exact location of their main force so that I could lead more men there and accomplish the riddance of Goblins from the Westmark...\" He takes a deep breath and another sip of tea, \"But as I followed the Goblin\'s directions, I passed through the land of the Dunlendings, and happened upon a fallen Rider and his mutillated horse. >From the tracks surrounding them, I was able to determine that they had put forth a heroic last stand against tremendous odds.\" He pauses thoughtfully here, \"And I did not wish for his hero\'s death to go unrewarded... When I noticed that he was about my own size and that one of his feet was nearly severed from the leg, I had an idea...\"

Rorgan takes another sip of his tea, \"Nor did I want my own horse to suffer such a fate, so I removed the man\'s other foot and threw him over the back of my horse and sent my horse back to the camp where my half-brother lay on his death bed. The Rohirrim, I\'m told, buried the man with my name, just as I thought they would, and with no one to come seeking me, I continued on toward the place the Goblin had told me of...\"

Rorgan clears his throat, \"But the Goblin had played upon me the most subtle of subterfuges. The place I went to was a trap, and I was captured by other Goblins and taken to that place I dare not name while darkness prevails outside.\"

Stands at the enterance of the infirmary, listening to the tale. She slowly steps deeper inside the room, her gown of midnight blue swooshing softly as she glides till she stands behind the sitting Rorgan. \"How sad your tale ends on the note of sitting here with little to do.\" She begins to very lightly with her fingernails scratch the back of his neck, \"Speaking of which, how is your itch, tailor? I see both your hands are free these days to scratch if you must. I wish I could have scene the relief in your eyes when the healers removed the bandages around your arm.\" She nods to Aearwen slightly, saying softly and continuing to scratch the back of Rorgan\'s neck, \"Good evening, dear Aearwen, how goes your work here?\"

Rorgan starts just a bit at the lady\'s touch, so absorbed in his own telling, but yet he does not move away from the fingers on his neck as he replies in stride, \"Ah, Lady Gweneth, much of the itching has subsided. I had forgotten about it actually.\"

Aearwen sits quietly as Rorgan finishes his tale, her mind replaying his words. Shaking her head softly, she inquires, \"how long were you held captive?\" Her words are barely from her lips when Gweneth enters the infirmary. Her eyes widen in suprise as Gweneth walks over to Rorgan and starts to scratch his neck. Cocking up one eyebrow as she watches her, Aearwen greets Gweneth, \"hello my dear Gweneth, its so nice to see you again. What brings you here at this hour of the night?\" Again puzzled by Rorgan\'s words, she questions, \"what do you mean by the itching?\"

Gweneth smiles, \"Please, dear tailor, call me Gwen, as I save Gweneth for formalities or people I do not like.\" Her smile then turns to Aearwen, \"I am a sort of a night owl myself. I rarely go to bed until long after the stars have been to do their nightly work.\" She smirks amusedly, \"As for Rorgan\'s itch, perhaps he would be the one to explain his own burdens.\"

Aearwen raises her lovely brow, a touch of sarcasm in her voice as she speaks, \"and what do you occupy yourself with in the long hours before bedtime?\" A smirk on her face as she continues, \"I am curious as to how you knew about his itch.\"

Smokey clouds from the east fill the sky, blotting out the sun, and leaving the day in a dark gloom.

Into the infirmary comes a...a large walking pile of wet laundry. Ahh barely, one can see the top of a firey red head behind the laundry. Maeghan sets the clean laundry onto a table and begins to string up the bandages on a line in front of the fire so they can dry. Her sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and she looks a bit damp, but not overly so. She pins the clean wrappings up and hums softly to herself as she goes about her task.

A wide grin forms on Gweneth\'s lips, \"Contary to popular belief, I actually do do quite a bit of work. I prefer the night as less people tend to disturb me from it.\" She catches sight of Maeghan and comments to Aearwen, \"She does not ever stop, does she?\" A touch of affection graces her features as she looks on the red haired wonder.

Rorgan smiles gently to the healer, \"Nigh on ten years was I held in that place, My Lady. As for the itch..\" he glances quickly back over his shoulder to the Lady, \"\'twas only the healing of my wounds.\"

Maeghan finishes hanging the bandages to dry and she moves to her makeshift desk to check the reports of the patients. As she passes by Gwen, Rorgan, and Aearwen she smiles, \"Hello everyone...\", she picks up the pile of parchments on her desk and begins to peruse them quietly..

Aearwen shudders, \"you spent 10 years as a captive there? My goodness, I can not even imagine the strength it took for you to survive that.\" Her hand reaches out and gently touches his arm, \"please forgive me for my shortness to you earlier. When you lashed out at me, I responded in like and I feel ashamed now.\" Smiling at Gwen\'s words, she turns to watch Maeghan, \"no, she doesnt ever stop. She is in incredible woman.\"

Maeghan peers over the top of her parchment and grins faintly, \"Oh hush...each of you...everyone here works just as hard...\", her emerald eyes twinkle and she looks back down at her reports.

Rorgan nods to Maeghan as she passes, \"Milady.\" He leans back a little, searching to see if the scratching fingers are still nearby. His eyes drift back to Aearwen, \"My Lady, my own frustrations seemed to have gotten the better of me as well. Do not be ashamed that our confinement here has gotten the better of you. It may take some time before we are relieved, and much worse may yet escape our lips.\"

Gweneth removes her hand from the back of Rorgan\'s neck and grins, \"I work hard Meg, but not that hard.\" She glances around for a chair. Not finding one, she resigns to stand at the side of Rorgan and Aearwen, her hands folded at her waist.

Less out of noticing her search for a chair than it would first appear, Rorgan begins to rise from his seat, \"Lady Gwen, would you care to take my chair? I grow restless sitting here, despite the good company I share.\"

Maeghan chuckles from the depths of her paperwork and replies, \"Of course you do...\", she sets the parchments down and then looks around as if assessing what needs to be done next. She sighs softly and mumbles to herself, \"The salves are stocked, bandages washed, patients tended to, infirmary cleaned, the intruments cleaned and put away...\", she mms and says louder, \"Now it is time for tea...\"

Gweneth shakes her head, \"No, I will stand, thank you. I too have been sitting too long and my search for a chair wasn\'t only out of laziness. I have been cooped in this,\" she pauses, using a different word than she originally intended, \"Place for far far too long.\"

Rorgan nods to the Lady and cautiously rises to his feet anyway, eyes twinkling at her as he says, \"There are far worse places to be, Lady Gwen. Far worse.\" He turns his attention back to Maeghan, \"Milady, when will I be allowed to leave the infirmary?\" He holds his arms out and demonstrates a few slow steps without his crutch, \"My leg and shoulder are well nigh healed, and I would care to walk a bit elsewhere as soon as I may.\"

Aearwen smiles at the face of those around her. Her eyes alighting first on Rorgan as she realls his words, slipping on around to Meg, the admiration clearly written on her face and finally resting on Gweneth. Smiling softly as she recalls their last meeting and how the woman touched her heart. Rising from her chair, she warmly wishes each of them goodnight, \"sharing a cup of tea with friends could not be a more fitting way for the evening to end. Goodnight, I must rest for awhile.\"

Maeghan nods and says to Rorgan, \"You may walk out and about if you wish, but I don\'t want you to walk too far on your first outing, perhaps we might take a walk later I fear we were not able to speak a few days past...\"

Rorgan smiles slightly and nods to Maeghan, \"Aye, a walk with you, Milady is always a pleasure.\" He returns his attention to the other healer for just a moment, \"Good night, My Lady. Sleep well.\"

Maeghan smiles to Aearwen and says, \"Rest well, Wen...\"

Rorgan lowers his voice and addresses Lady Gwen, \"I hope your supply of brandy has lasted, Lady Gwen. I long for a drink with such pleasant company as yourself.\"

Gweneth takes Aearwen\'s seat and nods to her as she leaves, \"Sleep well, dear cousin.\" She crosses her legs and looks over at Rorgan, a mischievous grin on her lips. She adjusts her gown and continues, \"I fear there is little to see around this place, although I\'m sure being in here for so long, it will matter little to you. But the scenary is lacking, if that is what you are seeking.\" As Rorgan questions her she leans closer, her grin persisting and replies, \"Indeed, I make a point to never run out.\" She leans back and straightens herself once more. \"How are things in your life, between healing the sick and injured? Any angelic progress, or have the daemons claimed another winged creature?\"

Rorgan smiles to Gweneth and makes the few return steps to his previously occupied char, sinking easily into it as he turns toward the Master Healer, expecting that the Lady\'s last question was addressed to her.

Maeghan glances at Gwen and has the decency to blush and she says, \"Oh, there has been progress...\", she smiles and blushes a bit more, \"I am quite happy...\"

Gweneth nods and smiles at the healer, \"It pleases me to hear so. If ever an ear you require or a shoulder, do not wait to ask, for mine is here.\" She turns her gaze back to Rorgan, \"So, if your itching has left your mind, then what has had it so preocupied in the last few days?\"

Rorgan take his turn to turn beet red under the gaze of Lady Gwen as he stammers, \"Why.. just.. well... uhm.. nothing. Nothing at all, Lady Gwen.\"

Maeghan smiles at Rorgan and says, \"Let me check your leg before we take that walk...\", she gestures, \"Go lay down,...\", she stands up and goes to grab a pot of salve and a clean, dry bandage.

Rorgan sighs and shrugs, \"Milady, I have removed the bandaging.\" He rises and slowly makes his way toward his own cot and adds, \"The skin heals well, and the muscles below pain me less and less each day.\"

Gweneth raises an eyebrow at Rorgan, \"Better go do what she says. You may regret it one day if you do not.\" She reaches into the folds of her dress and retrieves one of her smaller books from a hidden pocket within. She begins to thumb through the pages, those who she was making conversation with now tied up in their own actions.

Maeghan arches a brow and says, \"*You* removed the bandage? And why would you do that?\", she shakes her head and says, \"You don\'t want it to gain infection do you? There is a reason for a bandage beyond stopping the flow of blood...\", she points a finger towards his bed and says, \"Go lay down and I will see for myself exactly how your leg is progressing...\"

Rorgan does not increase his slow pace as he heads toward his own cot, \"Milady, I assure you, it is no longer needed. More than a fortnight has passed since I was injured, so I took it off and stopped asking to have it changed.\" He shrugs again and takes a seat on the edge of his cot, \"Sometimes you forget, Milady, I have been bleeding with you leaches nearly as long as you\'ve lived. Over the years I\'ve learned a thing or two.\"

Gweneth continues to read, the only sightest hint of grin forming on her lips.

Maeghan says tartly, \"Then perhaps you should take my place...now until you show me that you are qualified to take over, you will need to lay there and let me tend to your wound as I see fit...do I make myself clear?\", she sets the salve and bandages down on a small table near Rorgan\'s cot.

Rorgan snorts lightly and lays himself down on the cot, \"As you wish.\"

Maeghan smiles faintly and rolls up Rorgan\'s pantleg to take a closer look at the healing wound.

Rorgan stares at the ceiling impassively as the healer goes about her work.

Maeghan checks the wound and smooths more salve over it and begins to wrap it, as she does so she says, \"You know Rorgan, I only do this because I care...each man has their own responsibility, but each man is my responsibility. If I send a man out who is not up to his full potential it makes him easier prey for enemy swords and arrows, I would not be doing my job if I did not make sure that everyone was full recovered before leaving my care....\", she knots off the bandage and says, \"You know that don\'t you?\", her emerald eyes twinkle faintly as she looks down at her patient.

Rorgan rolls his eyes, \"I am fully aware of that, Milady, and I\'ll not be arguing that I\'m up to my full potential at the moment. That particular wound, though, does not require any further attention. It will finish healing in its own time.\"

Maeghan nods and says, \"Yes, Rorgan I know that but I wish to see that for myself...I know I have not been able to change your bandages as often as I would have liked, but somebody should have been, one of the other healers...if that was not the case I will need to speak to them...\", she pauses and gestures to all the men in the infirmary, \"I wish that I could give each person 100 % of my attention all of the time, but unfortunately no matter how hard I try I cannot...so please just humor me and allow me to check your wounds to satisfy myself that they are healing the way they should be...\"

Rorgan chuckles dryly, \"As you wish, Milady. And bring your famous tongue down on no one but me for my own decisions.\"

Maeghan looks a bit stung. She gestures and says, \"Go for your walk...just do not stay out for too long..\", she turns and walks back to her desk. Sitting down she begins to sort through her paperwork.

Gweneth looks up from her book as Rorgan mentions leaving. \"You managed to gain your freedom, Rorgan. Now where will you go?\" She dogears her page and the book soon disappears back into the pocket in her gown.

Rorgan rolls his own pants back down and raises himself to a seated position, looking toward the Master Healer and then back to Lady Gwen. His eyes finally settle on the lady, as he rises to his feet and addresses her, \"Since it seems the Master Healer does not want my company, Lady Gwen, perhaps you\'d care to join me for a\" he turns his eyes back to the Master Healer \"*short*\" and returning his attention to Lady Gwen, \"walk.\"

Maeghan looks up and says quietly, \"You may walk for however long you wish...it is your body.\", she rolls up the parchments and tucks them into her desk and rises to go over to the hearth, putting more wood on the fire.

Rorgan shakes his head and mutters a curse as he begins his slow trek toward the door, several steps later, he adds, \"Even though it spite you, Milady, your permission has been given, and I will egress. May your mood be not so dour upon my return.\"

Gweneth looks at up the tailor, \"Just a walk? How quaint, but I suppose it is something to start with.\" She offers her hand to be helped getting up from her seat, waiting for Rorgan to come back and escort her to the door.

Maeghan looks up and says, \"It was rather apparent you did not wish me on your walk as my tongue is so harsh...\", she moves the logs on the fire a bit before going to check how the bandages are drying..

Rorgan returns to the seated lady without mention of his thoughtlessness and makes the token gesture of offering her his hand, but his eyes remain on the Master Healer, \"Milady, that tone is not a necessity with me. Of all people you should know that by now.\" He now looks back down toward Lady Gwen and his proffered hand.

Gweneth takes his hand lightly and rises, putting no pressure of the man\'s hand. Once up, she wraps her arm around Rorgan\'s and calls back to Maeghan, \"Oh you two, be silent. This is no time or place for such useless arguments. There will be pleanty of time for such after we are free of this siege.\" She smiles back at Maeghan and says once more before moving towards the door, \"Take care Maeghan,\" she nods towards her tea, \"And drink your tea, you do not take enough of a rest. Do not make me become a mother to you as you have become to the injured.\" She winks and turns back to face forward.

Maeghan smiles faintly and doesn\'t reply, but as the tea does sound good she goes about making herself a cup.

Azragath snorts in his sleep and wakes, sitting up wide-eyed. \"Blood and bloody Orc,\" he rasps in exclamation. Realizing he has awakened, he blinks a few times and looks around the room, putting his feet on the floor to make sitting an easier task.

Rorgan continues on toward the door with Lady Gwen, honoring her request to be silent.

Maeghan looks up and rushes over to Azragath. She says softly, \"Azragath...it is alright...you are here in the infirmary...would you care for some tea or water?\"

Osgiliath: Gondorian Fortification - Main Bunker

A large and rather stark outpost building build for defense. There are stores of food and arrangements to accomodate large quantities of men for long periods of time, and arrow slits line walls for defense against attack. The stone roof overhead is strong and heavily supported by long wooden beams. Plainly this fort was built for strong defense purposes and little, if any comfort, in an area where attack is immenint. On one wall a small metal ball protrudes. (+inspect ball)

Presently a great work is underway to rebuild the ruined aspects of the fort, for still in some areas there is evidence of fire and destruction sentiment to a war in which the fort fell to enemy hands. The many men gathered hither spend their time either resting or aiding in the process of restoration and strengthening of the structure.

Contents:

Gweneth

Harthad

Findon(#29212POVenA+Ncf)

Gabbard

Eartnan

Jiana

Obvious exits:

Infirmary leads to Osgiliath: Gondorian Fortification - Infirmary.

War Room leads to Osgiliath: Gondorian Fortification, War Room.

Stout Door and Out

A couple, that being Lady Gweneth and the Guildmaster of Tailors, Rorgan, step from the Infirmary. Gweneth\'s breath frosts in the cool night air as the walk through the open area of the Fort. She turns to him and questions, \"So, Rorgan, do you only administer tailoring or did you at once time \"tail\" as well?\"

Rorgan nods to the lady, his breath catching at the chill of the air outside the warmth of the infirmary, \"I still do the odd piece here and there, Lady Gwen. I take it your interest is not purely coincidental.\"

Gweneth grins and shakes her head, \"No, purely coincidental. Unless you plan to give me discount on fabric or your labor in creating something for me to wear?\" She glides in step with Rorgan, her grown never touching the ground.

Rorgan chuckles, \"Considering the scarcity of certain other goods at the present, Lady Gwen, I\'m certain something could be arranged for you.\" He walks slowly still, suppressing a slight limp.

In one corner of the bunker sits Squire Gabbard in a chair. He seems to be doing something to a sword. Maybe polishing it, or even oiling it at that. He seems to be totally obsessed with it, making sure that is gleams with a brightness not known to many. He reaches over to a few soft cloaths, taking them and softly rubbing the sword. Then taking a stone and sharpening the blade.

After a few minutes of this, the Squire runs his finger down it, to ask it it\'s sharpness. Satisfied of its glory, he brings forth a sheath, and puts the fiery blade away. Then pulls out a helm and continues his work.

Gweneth looks over to him with a completely innocent expression of question, \"Other goods? Which goods would these be? A drink for the throat or perhaps good hands, should you remember your itch?\" She casts a glance at Gabbard, \"Oh, my brother\'s newest squire appears to be working quite hard on some task my brother put on him,\" she grins, \"Isn\'t it cute?\"

Rorgan smiles to the lady, \"Aye, that drink I seek.\" At the mention of the man, he turns his eyes to Gabbard, \"Aye, he looks busy, indeed.\"

Taking from what a pouch is what seems to be some wool. Gabbard then rubs the helm with swift and straight strokes, polishing with the piece of wool. After a few moments of doing this in one spot he moves to another. Then another after a few moments.

Gweneth hmms to herself, \"Unfortunatly for him, I am feeling my mischievous vein running through me sounding that I should go and disturb his work.\" She looks back at Rorgan, her lips pursed in mirth, \"What do you say, tailor? Or perhaps your throat needs its drink now?\"

Rorgan chuckles, \"Show me the way to my drink, Lady Gwen, and then I would leave you free to share my company or to disturb friend Gabbard over there.\"

After a few moments of polishing the helm, Gabbard quickly oils it and puts it away. He then walks off to take Lord Bragollach his equipment.

Gweneth nods and leads Rorgan by his arm gently towards the rear of the fortification. There stands a fairly large tent. At this hour activity around it is slow but two young maids stand out front of it. As Gweneth motions with one of her hands, one of the maids strides quickly towards her. \"Dear, fetch me two glasses and a bottle of,\" she pauses turning to Rorgan, \"You wished brandy, yes?\"

Rorgan, watching his friend leave, smiles, \"Aye, brandy would be fine in this weather, Lady Gwen.\"

Gweneth nods to the maid, \"Brandy it is then.\" She nods and scampers off. Gweneth continues moving towards the tent till she releases the man\'s arm and takes a seat in one of four chairs sitting at the side of the entrance to the tent in a square.

Rorgan moves to a seat only after the lady has seated herself and leans back into the chair, \"Lady Gwen, you mentioned a lack of scenery outside the infirmary...\"

Gweneth nods as one of the maids brings her a snifter, a quarter filled with brandy, \"Indeed, the walls of a fortification such as this pale in comparision even to my own office back in Dol Amroth.\" The maid moves and hands Rorgan his snifter as well, leaving a bottle on a small table at the middle of the set of chairs.

Greatfully accepting the snifter, Rorgan spins the liquid in the glass, \"I have no such complaints about the present scenery, Lady Gwen.\" He sniffs the cold air above the snifter before adding, \"Although the drink _will_ grow cold quickly in this chill air.\"

Gweneth nods, \"Then I suppose you should drink it, save it become too cold for your tastes.\" She sips lightly from her own glass. She lowers it from her lips and adds, \"And Rorgan, when I said to address me as Gwen, I really meant Gwen. I am not one for flashy titles and showy impressions,\" she pauses and grins, \"Save for introductions.\" She again sips from her glass, eyeing the tailor over the lip of the snifter.

Rorgan thoughtfully takes a sip of the brandy, allowing it to roil over his tongue and warm his throat on the way down. After he swallows, he smiles, \"Nor am I, La.. uhm.. Gwen, nor am I, but I would care to show all the respect they each deserve.\"

Gweneth tilts her head slightly, her grin becomming quite impish, \"And what proof do you have the I deserve such respect, save the flashy titles?\" She sets her glass down on the arm of her chair and crossses her legs under her gown.

Maeghan staggers out of the door of the infirmary to the end of the hall where there is a large pot of water boiling. Her arms are filled to over flowing with bloody and stained laundry.

Rorgan chuckles slightly and takes a long pull from the snifter, a momentary avoidance of the question, but then he finally does answer, \"Because I have no proof otherwise, Gwen.\"

\"That could be a dangerous assumption on your part,\" Gweneth grins quite wickedly as she raises her glass to her lips once more. She sets the glass back down and continues, \"I believe we spoke briefly on some labor you were going to provide for a drink?\"

Rorgan nods as he makes a long pull on his drink, \"Aye, I made the offer. Just what did you have in mind?\"

Maeghan puts the clothes into the large pot and begins to stir them around in the boiling water, washing them clean. After several minutes she plunges her arms into the hot water and begins to scrub with lye soap, scented with lavender..

Surion leans against one of the timber pillars in the garrison, idly watching the mixture of tension and relaxation as some soldiers warily watch the gate, while others drink. He chuckles slightly to himself, amused by the contrast in moods. He looks towards the gate once more, quietly muttering to himself, \"Just a few more days, good sir, just a few more days and you shall be free of this filth once they are dead.\"

\"Well, actually, I was thinking that I needed a new ballgown,\" Gweneth chuckles, \"I am quite absurd aren\'t I? Discussing ballgowns while a horde of evil creatures lurk but a short distance from me.\" She sighs melodramtically, \"And no knight\'s sword save my brother\'s to protect.\" She smirks thoughtfully and sips again at her brandy.

Maeghan begins to sing softly, thinking herself alone in her own little area. It is a haunting melody of a maid waiting for her lover to come back over the sea to her, but he never comes. Her arms are red as she continues to work in the hot water, scrubbing the clothes clean.

Rorgan smiles slightly, around the rim of his near-empty glass, \"A ballgown, eh? From my hand, that would be worth considerable more than one drink, Gwen.\" He winks, \"And though it seems no more than a needle at times, my sword also protects you, and so does the sword of every man in this fortification.\" He makes a grand inclusive gesture with the near-empty glass. \"No harm shall come to you ere every manjack be slain.\"

Gweneth smiles warmly, \"I know your words are meant to comfort, Rorgan, but little do they offer when such a prospect appears much closer than I\'d like.\" She looks thoughtfully into the bottom of her glass, \"And what payment would such a thing require?

Two guards standing within sight of Maeghan begin to whisper to each other while looking at the Master Healer. If their words cannot be heard at such a distance, the shape of wide grins can be seen. One begins to bend over and appears to be mimicing the healers motions of cleaning.

Maeghan rises and stretches her back. She pushes away a sweaty lock of hair with the back of her hand. Pink is the color of her cheeks, after a moment she goes back to cleaning the bandages and bed clothes.

Rorgan drains the remaining liquid in his glass and returns the smile, \"The required payment, Gwen, would be dependent, of course, on the complexity of the gown and the materials you would choose to wear. Considering that I have devoted the most of my time of late to the administration of the guild and have not made such an item in well over ten years, I would imagine a great increase in cost due to the sheer uniqueness of a gown so constructed.\"

Maeghan rises and stretches her back. She pushes away a sweaty lock of hair with the back of her hand. Pink is the color of her cheeks, after a moment she goes back to cleaning the bandages and bed clothes.(repose for Arran)

Rorgan drains the remaining liquid in his glass and returns the smile, \"The required payment, Gwen, would be dependent, of course, on the complexity of the gown and the materials you would choose to wear. Considering that I have devoted the most of my time of late to the administration of the guild and have not made such an item in well over ten years, I would imagine a great increase in cost due to the sheer uniqueness of a gown so constructed.\" (repose for Arran, as well)

Gweneth waves her hand slightly, \"If material costs is all that must be considered, then I shall put your mind to the task to take up that idle time when you are not thinking of your itches.\" She too finishes her glass and sets her empty glass down on the arm of her chair. \"I was a bit worried it may require more than gold as, you have said, it has been long since you have been put to such a task.\"

Rorgan chuckles, \"I would not deem myself worthy of making such a demand.\" He, too, sets down his empty glass and begins to eye the bottle between them.

The guard that appeared to be mimicing Maeghan rises and turns his back to her, talking to the other guard. One bellows out a loud laugh, disturbing the night air, as they continue to discuss, and cast glances at the healer.

Gweneth motions towards the bottle, \"By all means, help yourself,\" she grins, \"As long, that is, as you aid my glass as well.\" She leans back comfortably in her chair, \"And as to your lack of demanding, I suppose it could be seen as both a fortune and mishap, as neither of us know what we would have demanded versus what we would have accepted. But, such things are, now, for philosophers to think of.\"

Rorgan chuckles slightly as he first fills a fourth of the lady\'s snifter and then tends to his own, \"Philosophers indeed!\"

Arran looks up, from his current state of leaning against one wall, blinking out his weariness. Appearantly he has just awoke, from the laughter, perhaps. He rolls up his left sleeve to look at his stitches. Partially satisfied, he rolls the sleeve back down, the green leather armor soundless as always. A note to its well keeping. He pulls some sweat drenched hair back into his pony tail as he looks around.

Maeghan hefts the pot over to the drainage hole and pours the dirty water out. She lugs the large pot back towards the fire, making the usual oomphs and noises that accompany lugging around a heavy object. Taking a bucket she goes to the spring and fills it, taking the fresh water to pour into the pot. Again and again she does this until the pot is filled..

Gweneth leans back in jest, taking her glass with her, \"Make no assumptions I am claiming we are such, but since the topic has been played out to our content, who else would take on such a task as that?\" She drinks deeply from her glass, as if it was water.

One of the guards walks up to Maeghan, a smirk on his lips, \"Excuse me, Lady Maeghan, can I bother you for a momment?\" He watches the woman work with some curiousity, but his task is taking up more of his interest at this time.

Rorgan grins wider, and drinks deeply as well, pausing before a moment before becoming more serious, but only slightly so, \"You heard much of my tale in the Infirmary today, Gwen, but I have yet to learn how one such as yourself came to be trapped here with us old war horses...\"

Maeghan looks over at the guard and asks, \"Yes...what is it?\", she stops her trek of gathering fresh water and studies the guard with a serious face

Arran slowly pulls himself up. He looks around, sighing. Scratching his chin he notices the fact that he needs a shave. Sighing, he grabs his spear and leans on it. Another day, trapped. \"Why must I stay hidden away like a rabbit in fear..\" He says to himself. With not much better to do, he goes off to a corner where no one is occupying and begins practice with the weapon.

The guard chuckles, \"Well, the kook over there scribbled something down on this sheet of paper here.\" He hands a well worn, and wrinkled piece of paper folded, with \"Maeghan\" on the font of it.

Gweneth looks towards the sky in though, \"As in how I become here, within the last few weeks or as in how I became here, as in the overall story of my life?\" Her gaze returns to Rorgan, a sweet smile on her lips, as she sips from her drink.

Rorgan laughs lightly at the reply, perhaps a little too lightly for the words that follow on the heels of his laughter, \"I think we should have time enough for whichever suits you to tell. I, for one, am not going anyplace.\" He takes another long pull on his brandy, nearly draining yet another glass.

Maeghan blinks and looks puzzled. She unfolds the paper and reads it.

The guard nods and returns, to the onlooking friend of his, chuckling most of the way back.

Maeghan turns bright red and swallows. She hurriedly folds the paper and stuffs it in a pocket. She looks around, curious and embarrassed and then sighs softly. Turning back to her wash she begins to rinse the washed clothes.

Gweneth beats Rorgan to it as she sets her empty glass down, \"Well, the reason for my being here is a simple one. I heard of the battle and rushed to see if my blood still lived. Alas, when it came time for me to leave, the tide had turned and here I am.\" She smirks lightly, \"As to why I am //here//, I\'m afraid I\'ve lived too many years to make that tale into anything short of long winded and boring.\"

Rorgan hurries to finish his own glass as Gwen speaks and chuckles at her closing words, \"I would not think that you\'ve lived near long enough to be longwinded and boring if you shared every detail.\" He picks up the bottle and fills each of the glasses again, taking a long pull from his own before continuing, \"And if I\'m to make you a gown, knowing a bit more about you would certainly help me design something that would not only suit you in your own eyes as well as it would suit you in the eyes of others.\"

Gweneth shakes her head, drinking from her snifter much calmer than the man in front of her, \"I am quite bad at telling stories. Perhaps if you asked me questions that may aid your design, that would work better?\"

Maeghan finishes the wash and begins to wring out the wet cloths..

Rorgan shrugs, \"In my experience, asking questions is not nearly as useful as hearing the words you would use. Possibly even worse than knowing nothing at all.\"

Gweneth sighs deeply, \"Fine.\" She glares playfully at him, \"Be that way.\" She lifts her glass once more, \"Where do you want me to start?\"

Rorgan grins, eyes twinkling, \"Where you start is up to you, of course. It is, after all, your story.\"

Maeghan gathers up all the wet, recently washed clothes and staggers back into the infirmary to hang them up to dry. She is looking a bit bedraggled, but not any worse then usual.

Gweneth growls softly as she drinks from her glass. \"I was born,\" she pauses grinning, \"A few years ago. Umm, went to school for about a decade. I continue to stop by and talk with the professors and use the liberary there quite regularly. I sponser several families in Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith as well as currently working on a few projects to help the less fortunate there. I recently returned to Dol Amroth after a vacation from the social life for a few years and am the current Chamberlain of the Prince.\" She looks at Rorgan somewhat unwanting to embarrass herself further, \"Do you need more?\"

Beginning to look a little more than relaxed, Rorgan sags into his chair as he listens to the lady speak, his glass held loosely in his hand. He grins widely, \"Sounds more like a resume than a life story, Gwen, but I think I have what I\'ll need.\"

Maeghan walks back out of the infirmary. A clean apron on. She wipes her hand and leans against the doorframe with a soft sigh and relaxes for a moment..

Gweneth sighs in relief, \"Excellent. I was thinking something in gold and cream...\" her mind drifts in though as she drinks again from her snifter, finishing yet another glass. She sets it down, with little ill effects from the drink. It is apparent she has had this much brandy before, if not often.

Rorgan nods what seems to be a heavy head, rather absently, muttering, \"Gold and cream..\"

Gweneth pours her own glass of brandy, \"Rorgan, if I didn\'t know any better, I\'d say you were drunk.\" She sips from her drink, a wry grin on her face.

Rorgan grins up from his chair, \"Drunk? Me? My word!\" He blinks a couple of times and squints at the brandy remaining in his snifter, \"Well, perhaps I am, after all.\" He takes a long pull from the glass anyway and grins, \"Been more\'n two weeks since I had me a drink, though. Guess I\'m just not used to it.\"

Maeghan looks up as she hears other voices and smiles as she sees Rorgan and Gwen, her smile fades after a moment as she looks at Rorgan and sighs softly.

Gweneth smiles wickedly, \"Hmm, well, I was thinking of possibly taking advantage of your inebriation. Tell me, in your drunken state, what are your thoughts on that?\" She glances over at Maeghan, but is not worried as the woman is too far to hear her words just yet.

Rorgan\'s eyes follow Gwen\'s over to Maeghan, and then he returns them to the lady, \"That? I like her a lot, Gwen, probably more than should be admitted to, but I\'ve also seen the way she looks at your brother. What chance have I against that?\"

The redheaded woman pushes away from the door and walks across the hall to the far side where there is the tinies of windows. She stares longingly out beyond the fortress towards the out of doors.

Gweneth glances at Maeghan, and sizes her up a bit, \"She\'s pretty young, only a year or so over twenty, if that.\" She sips from her drink adding, \"Or do you like the women you court to be young?\"

Rorgan chuckles slightly, \"She is old enough for charge of the Healing Houses, Gwen.\" He hiccups, and belatedly covers his mouth, \"And as far as that goes I\'m.... Dear Valar! I\'m 37, I think. How unseemly of me!\"

Something rouses Jiana from her catnap...it could be anything, even discomfort from her bonds. Black eyes slit open and glance around the bunker. They rest for a moment on a young woman nearby and open the rest of the way. \"How is...\" Her voice is raspy and quiet from disuse. She clears her throat. \"How is my friend?\" she tries again. The words are heavily accented and are directed at the woman at the window.

Maeghan looks over at the slave girl and smiles, \"Your friend is doing much better....I was worried for a time, but he is healing nicely...\"

Jiana nods and leans back against the wall. Her eyes clos. \"When can I see him?\" she asks.

Rorgan blearily takes another drink from his snifter, resting the glass on the arm of his chair once he is through.

Gweneth nods, \"Thirty seven? Old enough to be her father, if just barely. And here I thought you were a respectable, nice man.\" She beems a grin through her glass as she finishes her glass once more. She refills it and offers some more to Rorgan, \"Would you like your glass refreshed?\"

Rorgan moves the glass out to arm\'s length, \"Aye. A bit more of this should flush these strange ideas from my head.\" He smiles wanly, \"I had not thought of it in that way before.\"

Gweneth fills his glass full once more. She sips from her glass, \"Then what thoughts shall we put in your head to replace the ones of ill repute?\"

Rorgan grins and begins to chuckle, as he pushes himself back to a more normal seated position, eyes still belying his inebriated state, \"Pure clean ones, I\'d hope, Gwen.\"

Gweneth shrugs, taking a deep drink of her snifter, \"I would not force you to such things as boring as that. But we can direct you from less, shall we say, hazardous topics.\"

Rorgan nods slightly, \"Less.. hazardous.. topics.. good.\"

Jiana sighs softly, slumping a bit as the healer seems to ignore her question. The slight breeze of her breath blows the hair out of her face for an instant. Wisps of it immediately fall back where they were.

Gweneth nods, \"Then lets talk about, Maeghan, shall we? Tell me, do you like that woman? She is quite cute isn\'t she?\" She crosses her arms, her drink casually going to her lips at random intervals, \"I forgot if you said anything on your feelings about her.\"

Maeghan smiles at Jiana, \"You may see him soon, I think he is sleeping now...\", she asks, \"Have they been feeding you well here?\"

Rorgan sighs slightly and blinks twice before turning his head slowly in the direction of the healer, \"Aye.. Cute.. intoxicating, quite actually...\" He returns his attention to the lady, \"And if I remember correctly..\" he sighs, trying to recall the words from moments before, \"I said I liked her more than was polite to admit, I believe it was... But she has eyes only for your brother... That much is obvious.\"

Jiana opens an eye as Maeghan answers. One shoulder shrugs. \"Better\'n I\'m used to,\" she answers. Her eyes rove around the bunker. \"As well as any here. One of your...\" she hunts for a word that is unfamiliar to her, and fails to find it. \"...warriors, uh, made sure of that. I guess.\"

Surion enters the main area of the garrison from the infantry, a smug look upon his face. He removes the black hood from his head, revealing his dark and grim visage. Less and less does this man resemble a scout from the southern reaches of Gondor, if he ever did.

Gweneth shrugs, \"I suppose so.\" She finishes her fifth glass of brandy and sets her glass aside for a bit. \"So, then, if not Maeghan, than who? Or are you saving yourself for another young girl elsewhere?\" She reaches for the bottle, refilling his glass.

Maeghan nods and smiles, \"Good....I will speak with the Prince about your plea for sanctuary...\"

Rorgan chuckles slightly, leaving his glass sitting on the arm of his chair, \"I do not have anyone in particular in mind... I do not wish to be like my father...\"

Gweneth tilts her head slightly, \"Tell me about your father? Why do you not wish to be like him?\" Folding her hands in her lap, she awaits the drunk man\'s answer.

Jiana smiles at that, the expression transfiguring the usually sullen face. Her black eyes dance. \"Thank you!\" she exclaims. She wriggles a little as she smiles at Maeghan. \"Thank you for both my friend and me!\"

Maeghan nods, and then says, \"But I cannot promise anything...all I can promise is that I will do my best to gain you and your friend an audiance with him...\"

Rorgan closes his eyes for a moment, raising his brows and stretching his eyelids luxuriously before his eyes open again and address the lady to his fore, \"My father was an exquisite tailor, but a bit of a cad. My half-brother is two years senior of what my sister would be had she survived.\" He sighs and glances down at his full cup, a slight look of astonishment crossing his face as he assumes the contents have replenished themselves and forces himself to take another slow, small sip.

\"So, because your father is a cad is why you do not wish to be like him?\" She looks at Rorgan somewhat confusedly. She recrosses her legs the other direction and leans on the arm of the chair.

Mist hangs thick and dank above the ground in the bailey of the stone fort this day, for winter\'s breath is well nigh freezing -- made even colder by the chill presence of the Dark Land, felt if not seen. Small circles of yellow light can be glimpsed in this place, cast by the many torches set in the walls, wan and flickering, and no other light there is in the darkness, for clouds veil the moon from sight.

Many people yet there are who go about their duties in the wide court -- some who man the battlements, others who care for the steeds, and some who make their way hither and thither in haste on their errands. And of a suden, softly the door which leads to the war room opens, and there stands a tall man, a mere silhouette against the light which streams out around him from within that place.

As the door from the infirmary opens, a black clothed figure comes out and the figure nods to the healer. He stands for a bit, smiling even now. He stands and looks around for a few moments.

Rorgan shrugs, \"There are other reasons, too, Gwen...\" he sighs and takes another small sip, \"...reasons that I would not care to get into right now.\" He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, looking anywhere but at the woman sitting across from him.

Maeghan looks at the black clothed figure and smiles faintly, saying softly, \"Good evening..\"

Gweneth nods, \"Then we shall not speak of such things.\" She yawns slightly, \"But I fear the night is getting on and I think your short walk has become a long stay in my company. I do not think I shall fall in her bad graces so soon and should send you off. Perhaps we can finish our conversations another day?\" She sets her glass on the table and glances at the now empty bottle of brandy, before looking back at Rorgan.

Maeghan glances over at Rorgan and hmms. She walks over towards him and kneels beside his chair and says quietly, \"Rorgan, I think you have been away from your bed long enough to get rid of cabin fever. I do not wish you to catch cold as your wounds are healing...would you care to walk with me back to the infirmary?\", she does not say a word about the alcohol that is on his breath or in his glass, or the fact that he does look rather tipsy.

Rorgan looks to his still mostly full glass and then to the empty bottle of brandy, \"Aye, but I did little walking, Gwen. Most likely her temper has cooled a bit by now. Per\'aps I should be back to my bed with the infirm.\" He raises his glass and tilts it toward the lady, \"Thank you for the lovely chat, Gwen.\" He drains the glass, swallowing hard a few times well after the last drops have left his cup.

As the healer turns her attention elsewhere, Jiana relaxes back against her wall. The smile still curves her lips. Certainly it does improve her features, as does the animation in her eyes.

Still as a statue cast in marble the one by the war room stands, his cloak billowing in the wind, wrapping itself around his mail-clad form. Grey eyes gleam in the shadows, sweeping over all here, and on the dark visaged man they linger, and the tall one stirs then. Forth he strides, and the stark light of a torch falls upon him as he passes it by -- raven hair and glittering gem upon his brow, the Prince of Dol Amroth, \"Good Aganakhor, a moment!\"

Turning at the sudden appearance of the healer last observed many feet away, Rorgan smiles happily and bobs his head a bit, eyes hanging heavy, \"Aye, Milady, let\'s have that walk you promised me earlier.\"

Gweneth smiles at Maeghan, \"Good night Meg. He should be little trouble for the rest of the night.\" She nods to the healer and disappears inside of her tent.

Turning as his name is called, Surion\'s eyes fall upon the regal man that strides towards him. Recognizing the figure immediately, he says, \"You have summoned me, Prince of Dol Amroth, and my attention is yours. What is on your mind that you seek a simple scout?\" Surion crosses his arms behind his back, his demeanor relaxed and calm, despite the coldness in his eyes and grim expression.

Walking over to Rorgan and Maeghan the black figure says, \"Hello, I am Maernus, if you were wondering\" He contiunes, \"Has either of you seen Lord Imrahil today, or know where I could find him?\"

Maeghan looks up from where she is kneeling by Rorgan\'s chair and smiles at Maernus, \"Good evening Maernus...\", she hmms and looks around, \"Oh he is there, but it appears he is with someone...\", she gestures to the Surion/Imrahil grouping..Looking at Rorgan, Maeghan says, \"Come my friend...\", she rises and gently but with great strength helps Rorgan to his feet.

Still looking up at the healer with bleary eyes, Rorgan responds to the words of the approaching man, \"Haven\'t seen the Prince. Saw the Lady Chamberlain though.\" He chuckles and moves his empty glass from the arm of his chair to the table beside the empty brandy bottle and leans back again, never taking his eyes off the healer.

Maeghan smiles and says gently, \"Come Rorgan...let us go...\"

As Rorgan is pulled to his feet by the healer, he grins widely at her and tries to steady himself on his good drunken leg and an injured one as well. He loops an arm over the healer\'s shoulder to prevent himself from falling over.

Inclining his head in greeting, the Prince pauses before the scout, \"I have heard much of you these past few days, Aganakhor\" -- and he pauses then, as one among those here speaks his name, the sound floating on the still wind. Swiftly he glances whence it came ere turning again to the one before him, \"Come, walk with me a while\", and with long strides, he sweeps past him.

Maeghan says, \"Lean on me, Rorgan...\", she is stronger then she appears, and helps him back towards the infirmary, taking it slowly.

Walking beside the Prince, Surion says, \"Have I been that much of a interest with our present situation?\" The black robes of stranger trail slightly behind him as he walks, and he says, \"I would imagine your mind to be on the rather large host outside our door, not me, of all things.\"

Doing as he is told, Rorgan leans heavily on the healer and pedals his legs in the general direction she leads. His head bobs and rolls with each and every step they take together.

\"So, it appears you had a nice time with Gwen...\", Maeghan smiles a bit as she slowly walks Rorgan into the infirmary.

Maernus starts to slowly walk a good distance behind Imrahil and Surion. He does, however, nod to the departing healer before he does.

Rorgan mumbles an afirmative as the pair makes a little more progress toward the infirmary, and then suddenly his voice raises a bit, \"She kept asking me about you...\" a consternated frown creases his visage as he trails off again into the pseudo-nonsense of one who has had too much to drink.

Her questions answered (from the smile on her face, much to her satisfaction), Jiana closes her eyes once more.

Maeghan chuckles and says, \"I see....\", she gently walks Rorgan to his bed

Rorgan smiles again to the healer as they cross the room toward his bed, \"I told her about Indilzar,\" comes clearly through many other mutters and blathers.

Maeghan smiles and says, \"I see...\", she eases Rorgan down on his bed and begins to gently take off his boots and prepare him for bed, \"So what did you tell her about Indilzar?\"

Rorgan mumbles an oath as he leans back too hard on his healing shoulder, but still manages to gather enough of his wits to reply, \"I\'ve seen the way you look at her brother... There is no hope for me.\" As soon as his feet are bared, Rorgan begins to situate himself in a prone position, rolling onto one side and smiling up at the healer like a small child carefully ensconced in a safe and snug bed far far away from this desolate place.

Maeghan ohs softly and gently tucks the covers around him, \"I...I had no idea you felt that way Rorgan...\", she pauses and says softly, \"If I had met you before...well...it is no use to be talking of what ifs...\"

Rorgan snorts slightly, still smiling, \"I am nearly old enough to be your father... Tell me not of what ifs... If we had met before I was lost, you would have been but a child.\"

Maeghan chuckles softly and gently smooths Rorgan\'s forehead and smiles, \"You think Indilzar is that much younger then you?\", she shakes her head and says, \"No...I do not pay much attention to age...indeed I am old enough to oversee all the healers of Gondor...but enough of such talk Rorgan, you are my dearest friend and well...\", she smiles, \"Well it is time for you to rest, I am afraid you will have a headache in the morning...\"

Rorgan smiles and mutters incoherently as the alcohol takes its final toll and he drifts off to sleep.