None shall pass!

\"Not haste, not anger. Given because I felt I had no choice and...the circumstances dictated it,\" Ceredir now frowns. \"More than that, I cannot say. And as such, I did what you saw, though, I cannot say I disagree with your horror of it. For that I apologize.\"

\"As I said, I consider oaths to be sacred. As long as you promise to take proper care of the wound, no apology is nece-\" She yawns discretely behind her hand, blinking twice \"-ssary. I apologise, it has been a long night.\"

\"I do promise that, yes,\" Ceredir grins, though the expression turns to concern. \"Is there noone else on duty tonight? Will you get no sleep? I can watch for a while if you would like....wake you up if anything happens...\"

\"I thank you for the offer, but my shift should be over soon.\" Looking over to the door, Midhwen laughs tiredly. \"In fact, I hear them come now. I have some tasks to perform before I may go to my bed. Good morning Ceredir.\"

Sitting propped up upon his cot is the still wounded Endaerion. His state prohibits him from field service at the moment, and as such he finds himself now reviewing a large stack of papers and scrolls. Each one his silvery grey eyes diligently scan under the flicker of candle light.

The Ranger looks up nonchalantly. \"Ah, yes, March-Warden. I\'m collecting reports from all border officers. I wanted to make sure I had yours before I depart for Minas Tirith.\" He sets down whatever was previously occupying his attention and extends it to the Carmayar before him.

The March-Warden nods slightly, pulled a rolled and sealed parchment from his belt, holding it out to the Ranger. \"Of course, sir. I had intended to send it back to the White City, but...\" The man shrugs a moment before he speaks again. \"If you are going, then there is no need. Will there be anything else, sir?\"

Endaerion takes the parchment and begins to skim through it. As he does so, he speaks, \"Aye. I know not if the Steward has decreed so already, but it is my impression that we will be sending patrols in force into the near parts of Ithilien. Such will require a lifting of the Ban, or whatever provision the Steward sees fit.\" The Ranger now lifts his eyes again to Tarachim. \"The Captain will want to ensure in either case that the law is upheld, and whatever remnant of the Ban not accounted within any such exemption is too upheld. We are therefore to appoint a March-Warden to oversee the way into Ithilien. No man outside of our Company enters without /your/ express permit, and does so only carrying such permit in writing and bearing your mark. Any troop of our own entering or leaving the borderlands is to report to you upon doing so.\"

Endaerion takes the parchment and begins to skim through it. As he does so, he speaks, \"Aye. I know not if the Steward has decreed so already, but it is my impression that we will be sending patrols in force into the near parts of Ithilien. Such will require a lifting of the Ban, or whatever provision the Steward sees fit.\" The Ranger now lifts his eyes again to Tarachim. \"The Captain will want to ensure in either case that the law is upheld, and whatever remnant of the Ban not accounted within any such exemption is too upheld. We are therefore to appoint a March-Warden to oversee the way into Ithilien. No man outside of our Company enters without /your/ express permit, and does so only carrying such permit in writing and bearing your mark. Any troop of our own entering or leaving the borderlands is to report to you upon doing so.\"

A young woman of the Healers approaches from one of the other cots, and she doesn\'t slow down despite Endaerion\'s visitor. Instead, Lady Zaira Ephalkir sweeps past Tarachim and begins to quietly prepare to change the man\'s bandages. She doesn\'t seem to want to interrupt, however, neither does she seem willing for men to keep her from her duties.

The March-Warden nods after a moment, a brief flicker of a smile appearing on his face. \"Of course, sir. Shall I assume that beyond the bounds of the fortifications, any not of the Company shall need such permit?\" An eyebrow is arched briefly by the man as the Ephalkir healer sweeps past, a cursory glance is given before the Carmayar looks back to the Ranger.

To the March-Warden, the Ranger again does not. \"Yes, exactly. Go now, with the authority of the Steward and his son our Lord Captain. Make haste.\" And then the man clears his attention from him and strangely exchanges it to the young woman who comes to tend his wounds.

\"Good evening, my Lady.\" he says.

The March-Warden nods and gives another salute to the Ranger. \"At once, sir.\" With that, the March-Warden turns and makes his way from the imfirmary as quietly as he came.

Clinking of mail, rustling fabric.

Tall and garbed in the black raiment of the Hosts of Gondor, four times cabled as a Captain, a former man of Ithilien, one Gurtir Carmayar, enters the infirmary.

Zaira looks up with a weary, if genuine little smile for Endaerion. \"Good evening, my Lord,\" she murmurs. \"Are you well tonight?\" The halls have been filled afresh with the moans of the wounded from the most recent battle, and the healers are beinging to look a little worn out. She reaches up to remove the bandages from the nigh-healed shoulder and begins to rub a salve into the still delicate skin.

\"I fare well, Zaira. Each day sees me a little stronger. Though I am still recovering, and not yet gathering strength. I hope to attempt to walk soon.\" The parchment the March-Warden had handed him he now places atop the previous stack.

\"Finally my coming here and your awareness coincide.\"

Thus Gurtir speaks as he approaches Endaerion on his cot and examines the man, \"Walking? That will be good. You were quite a weight to carry.\" He glances at Zaira, offering her a bow, \"My lady.\"

The woman nods at this. \"You will regain strength soon, Endaerion,\" she says, using his given name for the first time. \"I will bring you some stew later if you wish.\" She looks to say more, but she is interrupted by Gurtir\'s arrival. She inclines her head to the newly-named Captain and smiles a little. \"My Lord,\" she intones.