#idhrenfair

[shotechis]

Agamarth Textpostober 20/31

Idhrien: i'm sorry i couldn't save you. i'm sorry. i'm sorry

[hallothere]

Not sure if you got this one already but 33?

33. Protector/Sacrifice (oh, you want evil? ...this is sad)

Idhrien is capable. Idhrien is accomplished. She's the best healer in Tornhad if anyone asks you, even if Mandan's staring you straight in the eye. That's a fight you're willing to pick, even if he wouldn't follow it up. You've known Mandan a long time, but you've known your little girl was destined for greatness from the day she was born.

She was worried when you went to Mirkwood, went under orders and secret summons and didn't come back for weeks. You remember that scared look on her face clear when you did come back, albeit a little worse for wear. Mirkwood did that to people, you found. The Necromancer might not have been in residence, but his minions had given you more than enough trouble.

That had all been a feint, you were privy to know. As this may well end up being.

But you stand in the cell and you know that, of the two of you, Aragorn will need your little girl's healing hands more than an old man's sword. Even if she's not so little any more. But you can't help that now. That's how she'll always be, to you.

She's nursing a headache and probably a broken nose. You don't know who did it but you know what you'd do if you ever found out. She's a Ranger, just like you, and that shouldn't matter. But it does. It's hardly worth considering as you plan what to do next.

You wait. They come back regularly enough for fresh blood- more literally than you care to imagine. They're here again and they're looking at the injured, at the weak. At the ones crouched in the backs of the cells nursing broken noses.

So you give it your all. You lock eyes with the biggest, meanest looking one and you try to remember the worst of everything Lothrandir told you not to say. Remarkable similarity to Sindarin, some of these words. But only in pronunciation. What a lovely coincidence, you think, that such a motley collection of nouns makes up a pretty rank curse.

Idhrien knows what you're doing. She's always been quick like that, and you can hear her trying to get up to stop you. This would be the worst part. You hope she doesn't feel guilty, feel responsible about it, but you know she likely will.

You have the guards' complete attention, and you throw in a few creative barbs from one of Braigiar's songs. They get that one too, and now they're furious. The rest of the cell block probably thinks you've finally lost your mind. But not Idhrien.

You turn to her as they unlock the cell.

"I'm sorry," you say, "but I love you so much."

Your brothers cry "Idhrenfair!" as you're taken, and you are all the more glad you don't hear that one voice cry "Dad!" and give away the game.

She's too smart for that. She's going to make it out of this, your little girl.

[shotechis]

Tirnel looked to his friend, the larksome mood from earlier having simmered down into quiet thoughtfulness. He knew what was on Elegost’s mind, for it was on his own, and no amount of joking and singing could truly suppress the memories. He sighed. He searched for the other man’s eye in a quiet offer of fellowship, but Elegost continued to bitterly look ahead and did not seem to see his former pupil at all.

shading done! don't worry about the values, they're gone now but they will be back (hopefully) with the colours <:

[shotechis]

will reward myself for weeks-long crunchtime with working a little on this piece tonight... (: oh grey company how i love you