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Old 02-18-2007, 11:13 AM   #350
Estelo dagnir, Melo ring
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Join Date: Oct 2002
Posts: 3,121
Durelin is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Durelin is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.

It was tugging at him. Something was tugging at him, pulling him back toward the surface. He crashed through another layer of thin glass, sending ripples throughout his body, jolting reminders of living, breathing, and bleeding. Breaking through the next layer brought awareness of extreme pain, and he found himself trying to claw his way down to no avail. Luckily a veil of numbness fell with the next layer, and then the rest of the senses began falling into place. The ground was gritty. He could hear again, and he heard so much painful groaning that he was almost afraid to open his eyes, when a million blurs slowly began to focus. Colours poured in until there was a starry sky above him, and greens and browns flooded the peripheral.

Vrór realized that his mouth was open, and the groans were his. He quickly shut his lips, and ground his teeth together to keep himself silent as he adjusted his mind to this rediscovered awareness of his body, and all the aches and pains that went with it. His breath huffed and puffed out of him, and next he tried to regulate it. But his heart was beating, blood was pumping, air moved in and out of him, so his mind could move on to the more complex parts of his consciousness.

Why in Middle-earth does my head hurt so bloody badly? he wondered.

Khamir and Adnan

When the young boy Kwell delivered the message that Lindir called for the able-bodied men, to bring them together for planning, Adnan immediately began to rise. Khamir laughed, and reached out to place a hand on the boy’s chest, pushing him softly back down. It still did not take much force; the younger man was clearly still quite weak.

“You may be all patched up as best as you can be,” the one-armed man told his young friend, “but you’ve lost a lot of blood. Moving around is going to push your recovery back even further.”

Adnan let out a frustrated growl, and Khamir grinned at him. “With that spirit, as long as you resist any foolishness, you’ll be back to fighting the baddies again in no time.” The older Southron was still a little surprised at how optimistic he could be, and how playful, but it had become clear to him that Adnan was bringing out a lot of qualities in him that he stubbornly admitted he liked.

‘Taking care’ of the young man was good for him, and kept his mind off of his own pain, physical and otherwise. The boy was living and breathing, and regardless of how he appeared, fairly happy. Others were not so…lucky? Was it really just that Reagonn and Zaki and Tareef and so many others were unlucky? They were sacrifices, he decided. It sounded cold, but it meant much to him.

Sacrificing for others was something he was never good at. It had always been most important to him that he live. It was his life, and it was all he had, and…it was his. But now he realized that because it was his it was also his to give. Perhaps Reagonn and the others had not planned or wanted to give their lives, but they had all chosen to risk them. That was sacrifice. Not anything glamorous or extravagant, not even a deep emotional decision to make.

Maybe it was just…for a moment you forgot – it was a moment of insanity.

Khamir had not thought of his life only because he did not have time to, with all the other faces that filled his head and his heart with concern. And looking at Adnan, battered but alive, he could smile, he could even feel proud. They had accomplished much this night. And it was not quite over. Khamir slowly rose, keeping his teeth clenched to not let a sound out.

“What about you?” Adnan demanded angrily.

The one-armed Southron placed his hand on the boy’s head and ruffled his hair. Adnan sneered. “I’m bigger than you still,” he said teasingly, “I have more blood.” With teeth clenched he limped over toward Lindir where the others were beginning to gather. It made little sense to Adnan, but he was for once not in the mood to argue much. He about pounded at the ground with his fist, but luckily stopped himself before using his…partial hand, as he thought of it. He looked down at the bandaged mass, and marveled at how he could not feel that anything was missing. Of course, he could not feel much of anything at all.

When he heard some very low, gruff grunts and groans from nearby, Adnan pushed himself up further as best he could to look around. He noticed a large object moving beneath a blanket, and soon recognized from the greying orange hair that it was the very short…man, or whatever he was, named Vrór, who he had helped carry to safety. Was he awake? Did that mean he was going to be alright? His heart jumped as his eyes darted around. Had anyone else noticed? What if the small man needed help, needed water, or…

“Athwen!” he called, “Miss Athwen! Somebody! It’s Vrór!” Hopefully the healer had time to see him, at least, to make sure he did not need anything immediately, whatever that anything might be.
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