[Amanaduial the archer]

Atharen watched with interest as Crystal confronted the two women. The fire blazed once more in her eyes, and the two women quailed inwardly at this and her words. As she swept away, speaking quietly to Maen, the rain began to fall once more, turning the morning grey and dull in the white city; the people of Minas Tirith scurried away to the warm, dry buildings, and fewer strange, curious looks were afforded to the peculiar arrangement of people making their way through the streets, an easterling and two brazen faced women walking with soldiers and a pair of rangers. Atharen smiled to himself beneath the shadow of his hood.

As Crystal continued talking to Maen, Atharen looked around once more for Ferethor, but not in malice. He knew little of either Crystal or Ferethor, and was curious as to the man's motives, both towards joining the group and towards Crystal herself. As he paused, the man himself passed him, huddled in a hooded cloak himself. The ranger fell into step with him, and noted the suspicious look the man gave him.

"Good day, Captain," he said, soft and sincerely. Ferethor looked at him, puzzled, then nodded stiffly without a word. Atharen saw him exchange a look with another on the other side of the group - Aelimur. Atharen picked it up, hoping to make conversation. "Aelimur - is he a friend of yours?"

The guard's dark eyes flashed at him, immediately and openly suspicious. "Why do you ask such questions, ranger?"

Bearing in mind you come from King Elessar, I am surprised you speak in such a way... An image of Elessar flashed through the ranger's head, of when he had seen the king at his full glory; not the glory of the kingly robes and crown, but in the heat of battle, his hair and face sweaty, his clothes dark leather, the white tree and the Evenstar given to him by Queen Arwen gleaming at his throat and on his chest. This man worked for that king, a king of Atharen's own way and descent. He shurgged lightly. "I just wondered. You both work for the King Elessar - he is not unlike myself, and I fought with him, years ago. It was simply interest."

He fell into silence, his eyes hidden by the cloak and the sound of their feet muffled by the rain, waiting for Ferethor to answer.