[Eorl of Rohan]

At Crystal's strightforward and direct questioning, Atharen seemed rather unwilling to answer. "Myself and Roryn had...some business to attend to," Atharen said quietly, his meaningful gaze turning to Ferethor. 'Del, I guess.' Ferethor nodded slightly in acknowledgement and some thanks as he met Atharen's glance with an alert and thoughtful one of his own. 'I should've done it... If my heart was not too heavy and sorrowful within me to think of such matters.'


Ferethor said curtly, as he looked over to the direction where others were waiting, "Come, I must tell Maen we are back and then we must be on our way." But Atharen and Crystal was conversing with each other still and apparently was heedless of his advice. Seeing Roryn roll his eyes and knowing that he must be thinking the same thing, Ferethor grinned and winked like a child whose prank has succeeded, a rare movement indeed for his grave countenance. "We're all human, after all." He whispered to Roryn. Ferethor's spirit was high indeed, for the journey would start again and all distrust and hatred was renounced and dissolved in this company.


But Ferethor was grim and morose again a moment later, as was benefitting one of a soldier and one who had tasted the embittered life. "If you will, ranger - we must get back." Hesistation. "And... I must thank you." Thank someone - how long it had been when Ferethor felt a genuine thanks and gratitude for one of his race, and when had he ever voiced it unless it was to Meren five years ago? Yet not only for Del's burial. The fact that Ferethor was a human with weaknesses, fruitless longings and with all the dark fruition of Atani that Morgoth sowed long ago - and Atharen never accused him of it. Yes, that was it... A great gift indeed, one that would make a man above a man.


Once again Ferethor wondered what might have Atharen been if he was the captain of guards of Minas Tirith instead of himself. Rule and order, strict to govern and justice without prejudice - that was what he had sought to achieve in the ranks of Minas Tirith and all his life. Ferethor had succeeded to some degree, but what in Arda has it achieved except for to inflict the ruled with fear for those that govern them? As a captain he perceived the minds of the soldiers with keen awareness but beyond that, to understand them, he'd never gone. Perhaps...


"Thank you." He said one more time under his breath, this time for giving him light where darkness reigned. But at the next moment he was Ferethor again, and he made towards the camp with his face drawn in deep thought as if he walked in timeless places of his memory.


Birds began chirping.