[Lumiel]

The thunder rolled like the ocean across the sky, accompanied by the stacatto flashes of lightning in the dark, morbid sky. Rain fell heavily in great dollops, soaking all below. The chill seemed to seep to the bone and memories of sun and dry clothes were swept away to only be recalled like remnants of a dream.

It all seemed like a dream. Lumiel was riding behind Thoromir and the Rangers on her horse, whom she had decided to name Felweth. Her dark cloak lay heavy on her skin, her brown hair plastered to her head and face. Small puffs of air blew from Felweth's nostrils, and the thought of a dragon sleeping dangerously in its lair flashed across her mind.

Beside her rode Furman, bent over in his saddle, his form a dark, unreadable shadow. She felt something for this man, a sympathy for his plight, a connection that went beyond the simple rope that linked his bound hands to her small hand which held the rope. As anxious as he had been to talk before, he was now silent and pensive, loath to speak or interact with anyone. But Lumiel had managed to get a few words out of him when they had stopped to rest.

She had asked him what he knew of the Master, but he would speak nothing of it to anyone save Thoromir, when he asked. She did not press the matter, he had his reasons she supposed. Instead, she asked him of his life before what he had become. He did not understand, but he seemed willing to talk of it.

He spoke of his home, where he grew up. A mother, a father, and a much older sister who married and moved far away when he was but a boy. His mother had died a few years later giving birth to a still-born child. With nothing to keep them tied down, they left for a life in the wilderness, away from the world. There he learned to hunt and track, he learned the ways of the woods, and of the woodsman. His father died an old, but strong man, and Furman continued his accepted life. Until he stumbled unknowingly at the time across such a malevolent force as they now faced.

His voice was soft and halting, and he did not meet her gaze. It seemed he could not. But he spoke. Lumiel never interupted him, but held her attention on him, encouraging him with her silent acceptance of what was. It was what he needed. How could he come to terms with what he had done? With what he had been a part of? He did not know where to begin the healing that he so desperately needed to be whole again. Yet somehow, speaking to this elf helped him...speaking of his past, of his once joyful innocence, helped him regain some of who he had been before. It seemed he could almost like her, almost enjoy her company. Almost. He seemed stubborn in his punishment against himself. He was unworthy of all who were there, he didn't deserve to live. And certainly he was beyond sympathy. Or so he thought.

He could not banish it anymore. As much as he tried to exile himself, he could not, for Lumiel was always there, silent and accepting. How was it possible? he asked himself again. And finally, he broke his silence on the matter. "Lady Elf, why do you linger? Why do you dote upon the needs of such a hellish fool as this?" he guestured to himself. "I am undeserving of your care and sympathy, save it for Eodwine, for the others for whom you fight. Remember how you found me." he said, looking into her eyes, pleading with her to give him the damnation he wanted.

Her eyes softened and her brows angled just slightly, and a strange expression of pity and regret mingled with an unconditional love of all things played out on her face. "You do yourself wrong, Furman. A fool you may be, but no more so than any other on this Earth. It is better to knowingly play the fool than laugh at one, not knowing that you are the true fool." she paused, gauging his face. "You didn't start off intending this, Furman. But you were a part of it. And here you are, trying to right what you did. You will need all your strength and bravery, and for that I give you willingly my care and sympathy, for in the end it may save Eodwine." she said. Furman swallowed and took in a deep breath, looking away. A faint sparkle was in his eyes, nearly hidden under the shadow of his bent brow. Lumiel gently turned his face to meet hers once more. "I believe in you." she said in a gentle yet strong voice that seemed to reach him.

"Thank you Lady Elf." he said, looking down again. His road out of all of this would be long and hard, and he hardly realized it yet.

"Please, call me Lumiel." she smiled at him as they stood up to remount and begin their journey again. Felweth labored through the mud stoutly, and several hours later they stopped once more, and Furman told Thoronmir the rest of what he knew. The fortress was within sight. The end was nearing. They were at the center of the storm.