[Eorl of Rohan]

Ferethor sank into a wooden stool, seeing Maen about to speak. Nevertheless, he did not remove his hand on the hilt of his elven knife, wary of Crystal’s movement. Through perilous encounters against the desperate remnant of Haradrim outlaws, he learned to never underestimate the adversary – even if it be a spirited girl like this one. Aelimur, perceiving his tense movement, glanced at Crystal and then at him in a questioning movement. Ferethor impatiently signaled denial.


‘I am weary of this deception.” He thought in silent bitterness. “Hard is this task, I deem, and yet ever this dishonesty weaves itself in intricate pattern to enmesh me. By Illuvatar, no webs of Ungoliant were more treacherous! I long to be candid and truthful, but there are more grave matters at hand, for which my desires must give way.” Yet Ferethor betrayed nothing of his anguish and despair.