with a rainbow between us [/EOWYN]

[faramir]

ooc: I am making the assumption that the width of the Mering Stream varies from place to place due to erosion and etc. In this particular location, Faramir would be able to clearly see Eowyn from one side of the river, and vice versa. Getting across should not be so hard, either.

According to Mablung and Damrod, orcs had been sighted in Gondor. Westwards, they said, and straight forward. How many orcs? One or two, at most two. Are you sure? Well... yes, lord, definitely. So like a clever captain, Faramir had divided his rangers into five groups, sent one eastwards, another southwards, the third northwards, the fourth back in Henneth Annun, their base. He chose to scout westwards, leading his group swiftly & quietly(oh, what a contradiction) in search of the two (possible) orcs. They skirted for what felt like miles, passing trees and trees & more trees, a bush here, a puddle of mud there. No orcs, not even a (noticeable) sign. Nothing but the scents of nature, before Sauron could destroy them all.

They stopped by a river, rather small in width and slow in velocity. Still nothing. Nonetheless, Faramir decided to stay, and ordered his men to do so as well; for there could be orcs -- could have been orcs -- they could have led the rangers on a blind goose-hunt, then slipped away for Henneth Annun while their hunters continued running forwards. Forwards, when in reality they were stumbling in circles. He stepped back and hid behind a tree, green hood of his ranger's cloak already concealing his face. ((Waited for the LimeLight .))

(Finally) A rustle. Faint, terribly faint, but he heard it: the sound of leaf prickling against leaf, a trembling branch. Inhaling silently, Faramir readied his bow and slowly looked out to the river.

He had seen this place before -- twice: once in his adolescence, the other in his childhood; vague memories of visits from Mithrandir, history lessons, the warmth of Her(his mother)'s touch. The smell of her embrace. This was the Mering Stream, a small part of it, a contribution to the whole. He was facing Rohan, kingdom of horses. He could easily step into Rohan, leave Gondor behind(physically, only physically) for a dreamer's moment. Another rustle from across and the dream dissipated, condensing cloud-like into (sur)ealism. He raised his bow and leaped out -- only to stop at the sight before him.

[éowyn]

There were whispers of it, to be sure, but there was no one around to hear them. Éomer was off somewhere in the hills with the rest of the Riders, her uncle was unable to correctly hear, see, or speak at this point thanks to the wretched Wormtongue, and of course, the only other person with the hearing to understand and know and the power to do something about it was Wormtongue himself, and it was obvious that no help would be coming from him.

So Éowyn was the only one who heard the rumours, or at least, the only one who heard them and was willing to do something about it. The only one who planned to do something about it.

"Orcs," the voice of a man whispered in fear, "two of them, near the river. They surely have more reinforcements somewhere, and plan to attack us while we are weak!" This statement infuriated Éowyn, but what made her even more angry was when she was walking through the throne room and hearing the response that was given, by none other than Grima himself. "A couple of wayward orcs will not cause any damage to this town. There is no reason to worry." he had said in that sickening, greasy voice of his. Of course he was lying. Wayward or otherwise, orcs were dangerous creatures. If no one else planned on dealing with them, then Éowyn would do so herself.

She quickly exited the throne room, running down the stairs and wishing she had thought to borrow some of her brother's clothes without his knowing, so that she would not have to run in her long dress and flimsy flat shoes. But no matter- now was not the time to worry about wardrobe. She continued running until she was down the stone steps and down the dirt road, reaching the stables. There she grabbed a horse- she didn't want to go through her own palace to her stables and get her own horse, there was no time- and climbed on, urging it to run as fast as it could. As it galloped down the plains, her long blonde hair flew behind her, the wind stinging her eyes. She only urged it on faster.

As she neared the river the horse slowed to a trot, and she began scanning the area with both her ears and her eyes. Her left hand held the reins of the horse; her right hand gripped the sword that hung in its sheath from the leather belt wrapped and buckled around her waist. Then she heard it. Footsteps. Éowyn jumped down from the horse and landed lightly on her feet, turning and walking it back toward where Edoras lay in the distance, and beckoning it to wander in that direction, in case of danger. Then she began walking closer to the river. Her hand never left the hilt of her sword as she walked closer to the sound.

But when she stared across the river, the sight she saw was not what she was expecting- there stood not an orc, but a man.

[faramir]

This creature was no orc. In fact, it was rather inappropriate to use the word 'creature' -- for she was a maiden, a human. His gaze was fixed on her, & he took in the long, blonde hair & blue(esque) eyes of the [(stereo?)typical] Rohirrim. Not an orc. For a moment he could not move, could not speak, could only stare, stare&stare. Not. An. Orc. And then (productive) thought shot at him, sparked in his skull, and he proceeded to ask, tone more gentle than stern:

“Are you lost, lady?”

He noted via peripheral vision the sword in her hand and kept his weapon(for protection,protection,protect the people|Gondor,Gondor,don’t let Gondor F a l l) ready, although he did move it -- slowly, s t e a d i l y -- to a side so that the gleamingsharp arrowtip did not face her [squarely] anymore. For not-an-orc =/= not-on-the-orcs'-side(? : plural or singular? did orcs fight amongst themselves, too?). Yet despite all (t)his caution, (t)his (true or false?) suspicion, he could not help but w(p)onder at his own pseudo-assumption -- (fellow) humans working for Sauron(or just the orcs?)|on the side of the orcs/the Other Side[which every Ranger, every Son of Gondor, knew never to let go &{|?}or pity]; why would they do such a thing? What benefit would they get -- really get? Did they really believe in the lies perfumed into their senses?

Or were they forced into it, captured&threatened with death -- or something even worse(Worst Fear|Breaking Point)?

But enough about orcs and{a n d} men for now. War ripped you of your grey thoughts, left you only with black a n d white. Which colour was this lady?

[éowyn]

By nature, and for no other reason, Éowyn's grip tightened on the sword when the man spoke to her. However, she quickly realized this instinctive reaction and loosened her grip just as quickly as it had tightened. Though she felt no danger with this man, there could still be those vagabond orcs anywhere around here, so she would not take the chance of letting go of her sword completely, should they show up just when she did so and was least expecting them. A soldier must never rest, no matter whom they are with. That rest could be their downfall. Éowyn knew this to be true- too many soldiers had trusted the wrong people, the wrong situations, and had found themselves in even deeper trouble, sometimes captured and killed later, and sometimes killed on the spot with no way to defend themselves because their wit had failed them in their surprise.

Which ultimately brought Éowyn to this question- who was this man, and whose side was he on? He could very possibly be on the side of the orcs, and if that was the case, she would have to be extra careful. Though most men were against the orcs, she was sure (like Grima, for instance) that there were some who were allied with them and whoever was controlling them and their attacks. This man might have very well been straight from Mordor, coming to trick her or some other people, or perhaps all of Rohan, into trusting him and letting their guard down, only for him to come through with a wave of orcs and destroy them all. Éowyn could not take that chance. As kind as his voice was when he spoke to her, she would not let her eyes and ears destroy her mind. She could not yet trust him, refused to do so, until she learned more about him.

There was no sign of caution in her voice, however, when she spoke. She stood tall and ready, despite the warnings in her mind, and looked proudly at him over the river. "I am not lost. There are orcs along this river, and I've come to get rid of them. Did you know this when you travelled here?" she asked suspiciously. The tone of the man's voice would tell the truth and meaning of his words.

Éowyn took a few steps forward, so that her feet were almost in the river- it was thinner along this stretch, so that anyone might be able to cross it with ease. For only a moment she gazed back at her horse, which was not too far off, eating some grass and looking particularly absentminded. So far it didn't seem to sense any danger... but even now, Éowyn's mind refused to be put to rest.

[faramir]

Faramir continued to watch the lady as she stepped closer, although he did tilt the position of his bow-&-arrow just slightly. She emanated an aura of confidence, (almost(?)) as if she had no fear in her, or there was no trace, no string, no satin of fear on her shoulders|in her brain&heart(which leads to the brain). And when she spoke her tone was equally as fearless, and her voice did not falter or tremble. No emotion seemed to (over)dominate her; thus she seemed to be able to use her head correctly&rationally in this (current) situation.

He took in her words in an instant: orcs, two of them. Just as Mablung & Damrod had reported. An uncomfortably [not to mention inappropriately] positive feeling began stirring in his chest -- Orcs. Two of them. Perhaps they - he & the Rangers of Ithilien - were not wasting time(from Denethor (II)'s perspective) chasing after imaginary enemies, amplifications of harmless sounds and shadows. This [internal,instinctive] response was utterly terrible. Thinking back to the crumbling walls of Osgiliath, Faramir returned to Bias For Gondor.

Then came another problem: how should he answer her? What tone should he use? He knew to keep the voice steady, for that would suggest the absence of unease caused by the forging of a lie. But if he spoke just as confidently as she did, would she somehow relate this to arrogance, and then (somehow) relate that to Sauron('s forces)? And on the other hand, speaking mildly could possibly outweigh the steadiness of the voice, and prompt her to connect it with an enemy's lie. Both would be quite the stretch, yet some people --- for a brief moment he thought back to his father. The (ruling) Steward on his falsethrone, emotions&personalhistory distorting the reality of Faramir before him, or at least the reality Faramir saw in himself|himself as.

Faramir chose to keep his tone the way it was: stern tinted with gentle. "Yes," he said, "In fact, reports of orcs have brought me here as well." He decided to wait before introducing his affliation with Gondor and the Rangers of Ithilien, for she had much to reveal about herself.

[éowyn]

Éowyn watched the man closely, eyes slightly narrowed in concentration as she tried to read his facial features and his tone of voice. He stopped for a moment when she asked him the question, as if he were thinking of a way to answer. But despite how suspicious this may look normally, he didn't act as though he was nervous because he was actually guilty. No, there were two different kinds of nervous in this sense: nervous because one was actually guilty, and nervous because one was afraid of being called guilty, though they are innocent. She was almost one hundred percent certain that his nervousness came from his innocence and fear of appearing as if he were guilty, and so decided (in a small part of her, at least) to trust him.

Of course she would still continue to be careful, but honestly, could this man be evil? He certainly didn't look it, but then, appearances could often be deceiving. Although it was true that really the only evil man she had ever encountered was Wormtongue, and he looked the part just as he acted it. This man was new to her; she had many a question that she wanted to ask him, and was extremely curious of him, which worried her to some degree. Curiosity could mean her end if she were not careful. Though she really didn't think he was evil....

Finally, after thinking over his allegiance for several minutes, her eyes returned to their normal state from their narrowed one and a small smile appeared on her face. She could trust him... at least until he proved otherwise. Besides, she wanted to know where he came from and what he was doing here, and the best way to get one's questions answered was to seem as though you trusted the person (though she really did trust him, she just didn't want herself to trust someone so easily).

He answered one of her mental questions without her even having to ask, which excited her. "So you are also here to rid them of this area, then." said Éowyn slowly, thinking before she spoke, which she often did not do. "Perhaps... we should search for them together? Two is often more useful than one." immediately after saying this, Éowyn realized that she stopped using her head just as she had started to. Ah well, it was not out of character for her to do such things. She let a small, soft smile appear on her face as she looked at the man, and wondered if perhaps while they looked for the orcs each on their respective side of the river, that she might find out more about him.

[faramir]

The lady’s eyes were narrowed, as if scrutinising him with the presumption that he was part of Sauron’s forces. A slight feeling of panic struck Faramir, though out of practice & experience he managed to keep his posture steady & his appearance calm. Did he make the wrong decision? Should he have feigned a tremble in his voice? Semi-intuitively his grip tightened around his weapon. He waited for the worse/t(or better). …Then her eyes softened. Mouth moved like water into a smile. His initial reaction was to loosen his grip – only to tighten it again – was she displaying honesty, or were there undesirable motives behind this (sudden) change?

He had to observe her more, analyse her actions & words [in relation to his(their) current situation]. She spoke slowly. Were her words rehearsed? No, was his immediate response; no, because the way she appeared suggested a hurried|frantic [yet with noble intentions(?)] run, and that in turn suggested rehearsal would take a longer while to activate its effects. Perhaps she was thinking, contemplating, just like he was. She was also here to rid them of this area. If what she said was true, then, at least for now, both he and she → he & she; they were on the same side, or had a common enemy. And commonalities were enough to build bonds, whether permanent or temporary, long-lived or short-lived. If what she said was true, then for now he was safe.

She asked another question, and it took a while for Faramir to fully process it in its [surface] entirety. Two is more useful than one. He agreed with that to an extent – for this situation, two would be more useful than one, unless if there was an orc ambush on Henneth Annun, where only one-fifth of his men were at; perhaps he should have divided more men to that group… …As for searching for orcs – with her. With her. Together. This stranger from Rohan, from the other side of the Mering Stream. She seemed to ask so straightforwardly, so rawly, that for a brief impulse he was tempted to say yes, they could search for orcs together, shorterm allies.

How could he trust her?

He did not – not fully. But her actions & the way she spoke & (how reliable was this?) intuition prompted him to view her as ‘good’ instead of ‘evil’. So he chose reasonably – chose to do the reasonable thing: he would agree, but more so to observe her from a closer distance(& degree); and hopefully(?) they would find some orcs, then get red of them before they harmed the land & its people[both the Rohirrim & the people of Gondor].

Faramir smiled back, gently. “We should, lady,” he agreed, tone less stern & more trusting.

[éowyn]

Éowyn waited intently for an answer from the man, and this gave her time to think. From they way he had been travelling, or seemed to have been, as he was on the other side of the stream, she would automatically assume that he was from the kingdom of Gondor. If that were true then at least she would know where he was from- though she did not know too much about Gondor. Rohan and Gondor had severed their ties long ago, in a way: it had been ages since either of them had lit their lights calling for aid from one another. Perhaps this was a good thing; it meant that neither place was in danger. But something told Éowyn that there was something else going on that her uncle would not tell her; or that her uncle couldn't tell her, now that he was under some kind of curse. Even before the curse he hadn't told her, though- this only made her more curious for an answer.

And now, finally, he spoke. When he agreed that they search for them together, Éowyn knew from his carefulness and his tone of voice that after all, he was not evil. She could be certain of this now, or mostly so; the time might come that the orcs would be found, and it would be then that his true allegiance would be tested. But it was not yet time for that test; they had not yet found the orcs.

When the man agreed, it was not just his tone of voice that assured her, or the length of time that it took him to decide. It was his smile. He had a beautiful smile; even from across the stream she could see this. It made her take a small step closer, as she wanted to see it more clearly, but she stopped herself suddenly and turned slightly away. From that angle, she let out a whistle, and the horse she'd ridden in on came running toward her. If this did not affirm that she was from Rohan, land of the horse-lords, nothing would; she only hoped she had made a safe decision in trusting this man, so that he could not betray her later on.

As soon as the horse reached her, Éowyn stroked its mane fondly, looking at it directly in the eyes with love reflecting in her own; she loved horses, and had grown up near and around them. It was almost as if she was able to communicate with them, in a way- they certainly seemed to understand each other. But that was neither here nor there- it was not the time to think of such things or to be distracted. Éowyn quickly jumped up and mounted her horse, and steadying it, looked over the stream at the man, the man with the beautiful smile. Her own smile was evident now, and turning into a grin- she was always happy on a horse, but for some reason, after seeing his smile, she couldn't keep hers off her face. Her horse swished its tail anxiously- Éowyn wondered if it meant that the orcs were nearby- and she tightened her grip on the reins and on her sword, one hand on each. She waited for the man to get his own horse or to start walking; then she'd let her own horse begin a slow trot down the riverbank, as she scanned the area on her side for the dreaded creatures that were supposed to be there. She couldn't let herself forget what her mission was for.

[faramir]

The lady took another step forward. This time, Faramir’s grip did not tighten, nor did he (consciously) react in any sort of defensive manner. One, because he had begun partially trusting her; and two, to be quite honest, he was curious about her, and not just out of scouting responsibilities. Which part of Rohan was she from? (Was she alone?) How experienced was she with the sword? (Her own sword?) To what degree was her embodiment of [(stereo)typical] Rohirrim culture? Did she even embody Rohirrim culture? Was she, as lips & tales & parchment told of her people, a matchless horserider(&breeder&caretaker)?

As if on cue, a horse appeared, summoned by the lady’s whistle. Faramir watched her, rather amused & somewhat moved, as she switched her (main(?)) attention from him to the horse, her hands and fingers smoothing over its mane. A simple movement and deep affection {l[L]ove(?)} bloomed (for Faramir’s part) into a glow, pastel colours blushing from the tips of her fingers. Her smile widened, too. He continued watching, took in the aqueous curl of her lips; her smile emanated rawness, which in turn emanated beauty. The Rohirrim and their horses → the Rohirrim & their horses – mentally he waved that thought away; he had to stop with the idea that all people of Rohan loved horses above all else, that they all were practically one with them. (The way this lady behaved around the horse, however, was not helping.)

…Orc hunting. Right, they were supposed to be orc hunting. Faramir moved his head, tearing his gaze from the lady’s smile. With a nod, he turned his body, though not before motioning for one of his men to move forward. He spoke softly, telling the ranger to resume searching, and to pass on that order. After the ranger had gone back to their original hiding place, Faramir began searching himself, him on this side of the river, the lady on the other side. She moved on horseback; a horse with a human would be a very evident sight for orcs, not to mention she was a rather easy target for arrows. Faramir, however, with his hood of green & uniform of brown, could easily (half)camouflage, physically[only appearance level] blend in with the bushes&twigs. They could work together, he mused, work together to save each other’s skins.

[éowyn]

It was not long before the man across the stream looked as if he were summoning someone. Instinctively, Éowyn wanted to draw her sword, but instead she waited- her hand resting on it in a way that would allow her to draw it in a second if it were necessary- to see what would happen. Sure enough, someone appeared, but only long enough for the man to give them his orders, and then they disappeared. Or at least, that's what Éowyn saw and assumed- that he was giving orders. She only hoped that the orders were against the potential orcs, and not against herself. On her horse she had a good view of what was around her, and both her own senses and her horse's would be enough to detect an orc in hiding, if that were the case. But from the way this man was dressed, and whoever was with him, this would not be the case with them. Men were highly intelligent beings, much more so than the orcs, anyway, and would be able to be much quieter than any orc could dream of being when in hiding. If he were sending them to shoot at her, she would never dodge or deflect it in time, and even if she did, she'd never be able to see where the arrow was shooting from. Orcs carried heavy bows; one could hear them loading an arrow even from far away. This did not leave Éowyn concerned. What left her concerned was the possibility of an ambush of men who might not be on her side; this made her uneasy, and in turn, her horse felt this uneasiness.

Éowyn saw that the man had began searching, and so she eased her horse into a trot. Once they'd gotten further down the riverbank, but still not too far from the man that she had made a potential, partial, or rather, temporary alliance with, she stopped and listened. Seconds passed, perhaps minutes. A twig snapped. Éowyn jumped down from her horse, hand on her sword protectively. Her horse let out a small whinny. Her eyes travelled along the row of hedges and bushes, waiting for the sign of one stirring. Another twig snapped. Immediately her eyes averted to the direction in which the noise came from. Further left. She strode over softly, stealthily as she could. Another twig. And another. They must be getting into position. The sound of a bow being loaded with an arrow- that same sound as the one that came from the heavy, stiff bows of the orcs.

Without a second thought Éowyn dropped to the ground as she heard a twang and an arrow flying swiftly overhead, her eyes trained on the exact spot that it had been released from. She pushed herself up from the ground and ran at it, her feet splashing through the water of the river, letting her sword fly out of its sheath, and sliced at the quivering hedges. Black, murky blood dripped from her sword and as she wiped the blade on the skirt of her dress, leaving a long, black stain, she knew she'd hit her target- that, and the horrified squeal that had come with the slice, and the sound of a dropping body. Éowyn stepped into the bushes and to where the trees began and looked down at her victim- this was no orc. It looked like an orc, but it also had the likeness of a goblin. Though Éowyn did not know what exactly this creature was, she feared it, though it was dead. It seemed to be the only one- there was no other sound from around her. Even so, she felt uneasy- this seemed to be the only one for now, but who could say that they would not send reinforcements? She knelt down to inspect the body- it was well equipped, which meant that it was probably some type of scout- this made Éowyn feel much better, for she knew that there was no camp set up nearby of the orc-like creatures, and that there were almost definitely no other ones around. However, she could not be completely certain, and would have to stay on the watch. This time she kept her sword trained and in her hand, not sheathing it again. It would be unwise to do so. Suddenly she remembered her companion and her eyes flicked back to the general area where he had been- she was on his side of the river now, having run through the small bit of stream to get to where the orc-creature had so clearly been hiding. She began walking slowly in that direction to inform him of her kill and to show him the creature, hoping that he would be able to identify it- and also, in a small part of her, to make sure that he was safe.

ooc: I thought it might be a good idea to introduce some uruk-hai, so that they can form a real alliance, knowing that there are those out there now... also that Éowyn kills it so easily and fluidly, so that Faramir can see her strength and not doubt her. Let me know if you want it changed ^^

[faramir]

ooc: Perfectly fine. I do agree with Faramir seeing a sample of Éowyn's strength. Er, for my part, it would not make sense for Faramir to not be able to hear the sounds as well, being the rangers' captain -- unless if I misread your post and Faramir is supposed to be at a distance far enough away from Éowyn that he cannot hear the sounds?

Partly out of experience & partly out of introspection (just like it was & would be for all things), Faramir knew that the appearance of another man would most likely unsettle the lady, or provoke in her a similar feeling. Nonetheless, he had chosen to take the risk [as idle rangers waiting endlessly for orders would not be ideal, especially when there was (semi)confirmation of the presence of not one but TWO orcs], not to mention there was the possibility that she, the lady, too, had a host of (wo)men at her call. As soon as the ranger left Faramir had begun reaching back for an arrow from his quiver, through the small, stealthy movements which the Rangers of Ithilien (specially) specialised in; he watched her via peripheral vision as he moved, fingers first, followed by hand, then elbow -- he stopped [just the arm, his feet continued taking him down along the river], though. She was (still) safe, he felt (& by Ilúvatar was feeling an unreliable means of knowledge in times of war!) He continued to search, eyes glancing over at her just once(twice, actually).

Years of training with the rangers|as a ranger had honed his senses. He was, in particular, quite sensitive to sounds & noises. The tiniest crack, the most minute roll of a pebble -- the ranger's ears would catch it & BAMmaterialise.(of course, BAM itself would not possess so much volume, as stealth did not flow with loudness.) Faramir kept his ears open for the sounds, kept his eyes open for the details, kept his back raw&focused for the intuitive alert --

Snap of twig, thud of feet.

Stiff vibrations.

And then
TWANG

Instinctively Faramir ducked, nearly landed face-first to the ground. The orcs had noisy arrows. Did they not take into consideration the keen-eared rangers? Did the rangers not count? Did he not count? But now was not the time to ponder(&then embark on a journey of obsessive introspection) on such questions. Standing back on his feet, Faramir turned to where the sound had flown from, and saw the lady -- saw the lady lift her sword and give it a smooth, strong slice. Barely half a second had passed when a terrible shriek erupted from the hedges in front of her.

For a moment Faramir stayed where he was. He watched her. Watched her wipe the blood off her sword with her dress. Now back in Minas Tirith the [stereo]typical woman {sadly} never did that -- no, stop comparing. Only when the lady turned did he begin moving once more: this time towards her. He did not realise that she was not in Rohan anymore, that she had dashed all the way to Gondor; no, he still did not notice that, for he was too focused on the way she had wielded that sword, the strength she had summoned. He ended up running towards her, subconsciously more out of curiousity about her than the orc. Behind her three of his men had already dropped to the location of the killing, just in case of any more.

[éowyn]

((sounds good to me. ^^))

Éowyn had only taken a few steps before she saw the man running toward her. A few of his rangers- she supposed there was more than just the one, after all, though it made sense that there was- showed up almost instantly at the scene of the orc's death, looking as if they were checking to make sure that there weren't any more, and also looking ready in case that there were; They looked ready to serve their master and also looked very skilled, two things that Éowyn admired greatly. Assuming, of course, that this man was their master- so far it seemed as such. She wondered if he were just the captain, or if he were something more- perhaps some type of royalty? But then again, she had to remind herself that probably most royalty stayed where they belonged and where they were supposed to be, which was in the city, not causing trouble, et cetera... all the things that Éowyn did not do, in other words. Although as far as Éowyn had heard, Gondor was run not by a king but by a steward, so this man probably had more freedom even if he was part of the 'royals' so to speak- the most he would be after all, or could be, rather, was a son of the steward.

This made Éowyn wish that she were more free than she was. Being the niece of the king, who only had one son, and she herself only having one elder brother, she was third in line for the throne should anything happen to the king himself, and was expected to act as such. Although nowadays with the king being in the shape he was in, Éowyn was, in a way, granted more freedom, as no one really cared where she was. Grima was always so disturbingly close to her at times that she'd often escape the boundaries of the halls of Edoras to roam free outside, anything to get away from that Wormtongue. He frightened her, but angered her as well. Éowyn felt trapped, not wanting to stray far for fear of not being able to aid her uncle any longer, but also felt useless, as no matter what she did, her uncle remained in his current state, seeming almost as if he were being cursed.

It was a horrible thing. Éowyn tried to wipe it from her mind as she saw the man running in her direction. He finally reached her, and she still did not sheath her sword, but kept it gripped in her hand, though she loosened the grip a bit and kept it at her side, out of respect for her- dare she say it?- ally.

She looked at him and then glanced at his rangers- that is what they looked like, anyway- before making eye contact with him once more. She figured that at least the rangers were on guard, so she should not feel so uneasy about orcs, but the strange look of the orc she'd just killed- was it even an orc?- and the fact that it did seem slightly more intelligent than other orcs had worried her. Then again as she looked into this man's beautiful eyes as he approached her- did she really just think that?- she wondered if the nervousness was stemming from something else. She quickly shook away the thoughts and instead spoke, her voice strong and confident as always.

"I do not think that it was an orc." she said simply, turning her head to look back at the direction of the dead body, using the hand that was free of a sword to gesture in that direction as well, and then turned back to the man. "I fear it is something... more intelligent, and stronger. It looks like both orc and goblin, but not enough to distinguish which it is. It is almost as if it is a mixture of the two, some type of half-breed...." though her voice was calm, internally, Éowyn was both worried and curious.

She hoped that this man was truly on her side. For if he was, he could help her search for any more, and he could help her try and find out what this creature was. Or perhaps he already knew and would tell her, so she could warn her brother, Éomer, and his fleet of Rohirrim. If this man was truly an ally, perhaps he could send out his men to search for more of these creatures, or signs of their origin, and put an end to them, while the two of them returned to their homes to warn of this new race of creature that was quite obviously both intelligent and dangerous. One could only hope that he was her ally, so that these things could be done. Éowyn did hope, and she also slightly wondered if this hope was based on more than just gaining a strong ally.

[faramir]

ooc: I don't know why I did not have Faramir send his rangers further across Gondor. /headdesk. I'm just hoping I unintentionally did through my previous posts. On another note, I am making the assumption that Faramir, as a ranger, had already heard or seen of Uruk-hai before the setting of this thread, especially since Osgiliath was... horrendously wrecked.

The three rangers finally looked up, two of them facing Faramir while the third one kept his eyes cast downwards to the slain orc. This was an indication that the orc was indeed (most likely, you had to be intensely cautious in these situations) dead; Faramir, however, still kept wary -- of his surroundings, the trees, the bush in which the orc had hid, and Gondor -- every particle of Gondor: Minas Tirith, Dol Amroth, Calembel & so forth; one orc could [and usually did] mean more. And now with her, this lady from Rohan speaking of not one but TWO orcs: both Gondor and Rohan were being plagued by Sauron's forces.

Then he[Faramir] looked at the orc, and stayed looking until the look became a stare. Orc? The creature looked different, primarily in size, and shape in terms of its head. Quite frankly, it was too enormous to be an orc. For a second Faramir felt goosebumps break out all over his skin as he remembered: Uruk-hai. Uruk-hai. The word was a dissonant combination of clip and sprawl. As if prickling and spiraling its way in,out&through every blade of every piece of land you felt dear to&in your heart. Now watch all its beauty burn and rot before your eyes. Even just listening to the stories (which were more like reports and, as Faramir grew older, were indeed reports passed on through generations of rangers) of how Ithilien was constantly invaded & attacked had conjured dreadful images in his mind, back when he was still training with the rangers[to become their Captain]. The Uruk-hai had first raided Ithilien in year 2475. By 2901 the remaining population had fled the province, and scouts were placed (like pieces of a board game, lose one & supply another) to defend the land.

In other words, every ranger -- at least of Ithilien, although Faramir suspected that the Rangers of the North, too -- knew of the Uruk-hai.

Not an orc. Intelligent. Stronger. Yet still somehow related to orcs. Half-breed. From her words the lady seemed to quite clever herself, not to mention experienced (in terms of what she had been saying to Faramir all this time, un/fortunately (for her)). He tore his gaze from the Uruk-hai and gave the lady a short glance. Took mental note of the sword in her hand, her rather rough (in comparison to conventional women of Gondor) features. Did she travel a lot? Once again he found himself asking all the wrong questions. Stop. Focus. Focus only on the enemy. ...Even though she could be on the enemy's side, a spy herself -- just stop. Stop.

"You are correct, lady," he finally said, "This is no orc. This is an Uruk-hai, a creature much more intelligent and stronger than the orcs, as you have perceived." He looked at her once more. With her kill & her words, should he give her his name?

[éowyn]

OOC: I agree, that's perfectly fine. XD And even if you hadn't, I'll just pretend you did. I often forget to write such things as well hahah.

Éowyn watched carefully as the man seemed to study the features of the orc- was it an orc? It did not seem one, but yet, she would not know what else to call it- and wondered if he knew what it was, or why it was here. He seemed intelligent and worldly enough; it would not come as a surprise to her if he did know quite a bit about these things. And judging from the position where he had been standing just moments before, when they'd only just met, he was from Gondor. Éowyn thought that Gondor probably got more attention from Sauron than Rohan did, or so it seemed at least as far as wars, fighting, and attacks went- clearly Rohan was having some troubles, too, as per how her uncle was doing mentally and physically at the moment. Regardless, because of her assumptions on Gondor's war standing, this man with his rangers immediately gained her respect and a bit of wariness from her as well; they did seem as though they knew more about things than she'd feel comfortable, but at the same time, they did not seem evil. More so mysterious, and Éowyn hated to judge people solely on whether or not they seemed mysterious or suspicious.

She did not consider herself a good judge of heart or character; merely, due to the worm staying in Edoras at the moment, she could merely tell the difference between good and evil. Beyond that, so could her horse, or any horse of Rohan for that matter, just through instinct, and her own mount had not seemed the slightest bit uneasy until the orc had shown up. Now it was grazing by the shore on the other side of the stream, and looked perfectly at ease. Could this mean that there was only one, just the scout?

The man finally spoke and affirmed Éowyn's fears. So it was not an orc after all, but an Uruk-hai. Éowyn did not know exactly what those were, but she did know just from its actions previous to its death that they were certainly a force to be reckoned with, possibly formidable should there be many of them. It seemed to work much better than an orc, and had managed to keep itself well-hidden up until the point when it shot at Éowyn. If they were given proper ammunition, something silent and more stealthy like the bows of the elves, perhaps, as unlikely as that was... then she was as good as dead. This thought alone frightened the lady of Rohan a bit and she hoped that they would not do such a thing- their intelligence alone proved that if they did, this war could get out of hand quickly, and that the entirety of middle-earth could very well fall into the hands of Sauron.

She looked at the intelligent man, her face and eyes still reflecting strength while internally she was having a battle against fear. "If this is the new type of enemy that is being bred in Mordor, then we must be more careful, watching our backs in the day as well as the night. Who really knows how many of these creatures walk this realm now...." she said evasively, turning to watch the trees blowing in a slight wind instead of meeting the man's eyes. "If you are of Gondor, then I wish that I could say Rohan will come to your aid, if you are in need of it. However...." she stopped here, not wanting to give away the condition of her uncle. She already had slight regret for the words she had spoken to him. If he were an enemy and not an ally, then upon finding out of her uncle's condition, he could lead his forces and easily take over Rohan. But hopefully this would give her a chance to find out if he was really to be trusted, and if he was indeed from Gondor as she assumed. Hopefully, her assumptions were correct. If not, her rash decisions could lead her and her people to further danger. Éowyn did not believe she was a leader; she believed she was a fighter. And she acted as such, and as a result, sometimes she did not think first and did not make the best of decisions. Only fate was on her side now, if she was lucky.

[faramir]

ooc: Faramir's speech pattern is rather difficult to track and mimic, for some reason. I tried. I couldn't find the archaic word for worry.

He kept his head turned to the lady. But now he was thinking more about the Uruk-hai instead of her. From scouts and years of running all across Ithilien and Gondor (the grass&soil like a pseudo form of silk beneath his feet, the bottom of his shoes), the most he could gather of these Uruk-hai were no more than scraps pieced together, their sources fragments of conversations, shards of sightings. The scraps fell on maps and took the form of ants. Faramir did not know -- would most likely never know -- the full truth of the Uruk-hai. How they were truly made. How they truly felt. The truth glistening raw in their beings. The truth from their angle. He wondered if they had been forced into their current forms, because what if. Just. What if? What if they were forced to kill, or their bloodlust had been forced on&into them? How different were they from you, then?

And yet. You had Gondor to protect.

"I fear your worries are correct, lady," he said after a brief hesitation. He said it quite plainly and quickly. For the sake of saying it to her. Did he sound too harsh? Perhaps he should have lowered his voice. But. That would have probably offended her ((even) more). To attempt at comfort in the middle of such a situation entailed deception, would that not be insulting? Making light out of darkness when you knew ten out of ten that any light conjured would be an illusion.

She turned her head, he kept his gaze on her. What of Rohan? He did know that it had been a -- significant -- while since Rohan and Gondor last communicated. Faramir never gave it much thought -- he had no time to, and he had always thought[ASSUMED] that Denethor was keeping track of Gondor's relations with Rohan. Despite his... despite his state of mind&emotions. Yes, Faramir focused on scouting and defense, and Denethor focused on all of Gondor and all that were related to Gondor. And Boromir. Partially by intuition & partially by reason Faramir knew[assumed] that Boromir was focused on Gondor too. All the while solving the riddle of Isildur's Bane.

What affected Rohan affected Gondor & vice versa. It did not matter what the degree of the effect was. So long as Gondor or Rohan was affected, you were affected. The air around you was affected. So don't ignore the most distant effect. So he asked her.

"What goes on in Rohan, lady?"

Wrong move. She was probably suspecting him [even more] now.

"All that harms Rohan shall harm Gondor, too." He added.