[Amanaduial the archer]

As the dead city faded out of sight behind them, Raeis turned to walk backwards, shading her eyes against the fierce, merciless sun as she watched the Dead City leaving their sight. The dark, fierce towers stabbed viciously into the sky, unnatural and cruel looking, tormenting all around by the way they twisted the landscape, but the elf forced herself to keep watching, walking backwards, until the very last tip of the very last spire of the very last dark, mutilated tower had dipped out of sight. Dropping her head backwards, Raeis closed her eyes and smiled blissfully: it was gone.

"Gone." She breathed the word reverently as she opened her eyes and turned around to the rest. The motley assortion of escapees didn't even comment or raise an eyebrow as to her strange behaviour: none of them could have been called normal exactly, and the erratic behaviour of other's was nothing to such a strange group. But several of them did turn back to squint against the sun to where the Dead City wasn't; and seeing that it was so, they smiled, very slightly, a sense of relief coming over them, a sense of release that they had not felt since they first got out of the dark, damp holes which had been their cells, their prisons and nightmares, for so long. Of course, they were not yet safe - but to get that unsightly, twisted silhouette out of view...it seemed like an achievement.

Zurumor looked across at Raeis and she smiled back at him thoughtlessly. The man looked surprised and smiled gently back, reaching out towards her and, very gently, touched her shoulder gingerly, tenderly, then withdrew. The elf cocked her head onto one side, looking across at him, then smiled again. She loved the feeling it gave her, the way her muscles moved so naturally into the position, her lips pulling out so that she could feel the creases even up to her eyes. It seemed to make Zurumor happy as well, for her did the same again; but his smile seemed slightly different, seeming to use his eyes more than his actual lips. Raeis was fairly sure she wasn't doing the same with her eyes: was that how she looked, soulful, deep, kind - welcoming? Surely not: if she had managed to inject all those things into her eyes while smiling, she probably would have noticed at some point along the way. Looking around, she surveyed the others in the group, battle stained and torn, limping and scarred - but proud and victorious with it. Such a motley assortment of ragged beings you would not find elsewhere in Middle Earth if you scoured every inch for one hundred years: but a strange group of precious stones have different strengths and different facets, and no matter how shattered one seems, it will always add to the impression, the many sided pile that protects itself at all levels, no matter how odd it seems. Every one counts.

Except one.

Raeis glanced over at Darash where she walked side by side with Lyshka, the two women as thick as thieves. But the noble slavewoman seemed to feel some gaze on her, and turned her smouldering gaze back to Raeis suspiciously, then relaxed. Raeis mouthed a word to her: Aldor?

The woman's eyes narrowed dangerously and she shrugged, somehow conveying great depth in that one gesture. Raeis frowned slightly: if there is a sickly animal, you should keep it in sight, lest there is something infectious that could kill them all. She blinked at the metaphor formed in her mind, vaguely unsure of where it had come from, before drifting away from Zurumor towards Morgoroth, not noticing the brief slide of shock and hurt that flitted across the man's good natured face momentarily, a cloud passing over the sun.

The dark elf was limping terribly, head down and breathing deeply, supported by Jeren, but his pace was steady and his shoulders shook with determination. He flailed suddenly as he stumbled on a stone and Raeis caught him: weaker than she had been she was, but Morgoroth had been prepared to pay the ultimate sacrifice of blood for her. Awkwardly slipping her head under his other arm, she supported him with Jeren as best as she could, allowing him to walk more easily and with less effort. Still breathing heavily, the dark elf turned to her, strands of wet, black hair streaking his forehead. Raeis nodded deeply to him from beath her burden and tried out her smile again, this time more moderately, as she placed her free hand on her kinsman's chest, a silent gesture of thanks saying more than words could for what he had been prepared to give simply for the life of a broken elfwoman.