Her Whole Heart

“She’s not in the palace or in the city my King,” Einor said. Elessar felt something cool and wet on his wrist. When he looked down the pewter mug he held had krinkled up in his grasp and red wine leaked onto his hand and coat. Elessar sat in his war room, his Dark green and gray uniform was clean and freshly pressed. He scowled and his lips formed a tight line of anger.

“Send a squad...bring her back...in a SACK! If you have to!” He growled. Einor nodded and stepped briskly away. “And Find My wife the QUEEN! I WILL have words with her!” he shouted. Einor paused and winced and then began again down the hall…

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The green hills rolled around her in all directions. The white walls of the city were long since disappeared and Jack, her horse chewed up ground quickly with each stride of his strong legs. He wasn’t as tall as many horses but he had been bred from elven stock by her grandfather and he had a great turn of speed and near tireless endurance when she employed it of him. Above her shoulder lay the hilt of her Lhang, an ancient Elven made weapon called ‘Long Fang’. It was a long, lithe, slightly curved blade with a long hilt designed for 2 hands. Not as long or broad as a standard greatsword but equally as deadly on the battlefield. Her bow was a gift from her Grandmother made of a Black Yew. It was the one she had carried for many years and it had never failed her. She had 2 quivers that brisled with white-fletched arrows. Her dark gray cloak fluttered behind her as Jack raced ever southward.

Nauriel had been walking near the war room when she suddenly heard Elessar yelling. When she heard him say he would have words with her she frowned and stepped into the room after Einor came out. She clasped her hands in front of her and looked at her husband. She didn't need the bond to see that he was angry. She remained calm, hoping her calm would in turn calm him.

"You wished to speak with me?"

With her sword and her bow and quiver Kressara felt prepared for anything. She knew that danger might lurk before her, but she had been well trained and felt she could handle almost anything. There was only so much one could learn in the city. This would be her first test out in the field. Several hours passed as she continued to head southward. Before leaving, Havan had shown her on a map where he and his men would be and she headed that way. She knew it would take days to reach the border and so she rode as quickly as she could.

For Kressara the road south was far from solitary. Men, women and children a foot walked on or along the tightly packed dirt road. Coming or going from their farms to market or to their homes on the outskirts of Minas Tirith. She passed by men on horses and teams of horses that pulled large carts too laden with food, lumber and any number of goods to trade with the cities inhabitants. There were soldiers as well either on foot in organized lines or of horse. They eyed her curiously but with her hood up none seemed to take more notice of her than that she was a woman on a horse. In her head worry pounded like a spike into her brain though as far as she knew Havan was on the front like the other soldiers awaiting orders to attack or defend. However it was something in Serethiel’s voice when she spoke of Havan and how she needed to come that spurned her to run Jack just that much harder.

Havan struggled as the Harad soldier tried to push at his face. Havan held a dagger in his hands and slowly pressed it down into the man’s chest. His men had set an ambush for a patrol. They were in bad need of arrows and had been attacking targets of opportunity to get food, water and supplies so they could continue to harry the Haradrim forces and stay alive. Havan’s face and hands were covered in dirt and blood but he had remarkably avoided anything more than a scratch. This last attack cost them dearly though, they lost Marlind, their best archer. Now only 7 they fell back into the rocks dragging those they killed with them to hide their bodies.

“I won’t assume you had anything to do with Kressara’s ‘leaving’ Nauriel but I will ask you. “Did you allow her to leave? Or did you not know she had left the city after I EXPRESSLY told her not to!” he said and let the ruined cup sit upon the table, wine still leaked from it onto the floor. “How can you expect my men to obey my orders if my own daughters do not!?” He asked angrily. “I’ve ordered her found and returned which will take men I need elsewhere. I am not pleased Nauriel. In this time of times, I need to know my family is safe,” he said in an angry, urgent tone. He needed to be clear minded for what was coming.

“I’ve received word that Eomor’s forces have engaged an invasion force from the east. The only reason they are holding is due to aid from the Northman. I don’t have time for this Nauriel!” he said angrily but had managed to moderate his tone...a little. Things had gotten better between them recently and she felt all of this building up inside of him through the bond. He was a mass of hard-pressed anger and worry like a white-knuckled fist that has been clenched too long. She could see it in his eyes too.

Nauriel remained calm, even as Elessar's voice grew louder and his temper flared. She emitted calmness through the bond, hoping to ease his nerves. She knew she needed to choose her words carefully, but she also knew that he was not going to like what she had to say...but it needed to be said.

"Pull back your men. Do not have them follow her. Put them where they are needed. It's time we let her go. I understand how difficult this is because she is our last daughter, but we both knew this day was coming. I now know how my parents felt when they let me leave with you, but they knew I was ready...just like we both know Kressara is ready. She is already a better swordswoman than most of our men here and that is saying something since we have some of the best soldiers in Middle Earth. This is her destiny and we cannot stand in the way of that."

She took a risk and slowly approached him and placed a hand upon his shoulder. "She will be fine. Let her go."

Elessar looked up at her as he sat back in his large chair, pain in his eyes. Why did the world require so much of them? Why could he not have his family safe and alive and happy? “We’ve...given so much already,” Elessar said in a soft, deep rumble. “Our entire lives, our blood, our sweat and now our children?” He asked as he looked wearily into her eyes. “Why must it be so my love? Haven’t we given enough?” He asked and the bond pulsed with the pain of it all.

As the sun began to trail down into the trees Kressara found a farmer that was willing to sell her a few wrapped parcels of dried goods and a blown glass bottle and cork filled with ale that he said he had made himself. Already people began to quarter off the road and many fires could be seen sprinkled about the area. There was an elderly couple, a farmer and his wife that looked up at her as she led her horse past them and he waved to her.

“You are welcome at our fire milady,” He called out to her. “Come, warm yourself and take your ease if you wish,” He said as he roasted a potato over the fire. He had it on a stick and it smelled delicious. “Oh, Meryl, she’s just a slip of a girl,” The woman said though with her hood down they couldn’t really see her face. As she sat down the farmer handed her his stick, the potato was nearly done, colored a deep, golden brown and he took up another one and held it over the flames. Juice from the potato sizzled as it hit the fire and the woman offered her a cup filled with tea.

Nauriel looked at her husband and felt his anger leave, but it was replaced by pain. She listened to him quietly, not knowing quite what to say. She let him speak and then slowly walked over and sat in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his. She was quiet for a few moments before finally speaking softly. "Yes, it is true that we have given so much to this world, but look at what we have gotten in return. We have a son who will one day be king, another son, who although is not ours by blood, is just as loved and cherished, four beautiful daughters, four healthy grandchildren with another on the way, and we have each other. We have been blessed with more than many in this world and for that we should always be grateful. This is but one more challenge we must endure, but you and I always come out stronger. Our daughter is a great woman and she loves you."

Kressara felt her stomach begin to grumble as the sun began to dip down below the tree line. The sky was softening into pastel pinks, oranges, and purples and a warm wind blew from the west. Kressara was grateful to stumble across a man willing to sell her some dried goods and some ale. Jack was glad for the rest and Kressara removed his tack for the time being. He was extremely well trained and did not need to be tied up. He remained close to her, but grazed as Kressara was beckoned over by a couple cooking potatoes over a fire. Kressara thought they looked friendly and she approached them. She removed her weapons, but kept them at her side. The man offered her a nearly cooked potato and Kressara gratefully accepted it. She kept it hovered over the fire and took the cup of tea the woman offered her.

"Thank you both. I've been riding all day and didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled these potatoes."

“Well, I don’t mean ta pry good lady but you’re headed in the wrong direction. Nuthin that way but the front. We’ve got medical supplies for the soldiers there. Treated bandages, ointments and the like. But you don’t look much like a trader,” He said as his eyes took a better look at her weapons. He nodded slightly when his eyes turned back up to her. “But I’m guessin you know that already. It’s not good what’s happenin, no it ain’t,” He said as he turned his potato. “Our boys are takin a real beatin. Those Harad are good with them bows a theres. A broadhead arrow can punch right through a breastplate if they fire their bows close enough,” He said and tisked with his teeth. “Lots a men wounded,” He said. “So...where are ya headed milady?” He asked finally.

Kressara pulled her potato out of the fire and waited a few seconds before lightly pressing on it. She could tell it was now fully cooked, but it was too hot to eat. She glanced over at the man as he spoke and listened to him quietly. Just hearing what he said made her want to get up and re-saddle Jack as quickly as possible, but she knew she couldn't run him to death and she needed to eat. She would need her strength otherwise she would be of no use to those men. She glanced at the man again when he asked her where she was headed.

"To the southern border," she answered honestly and matter of factly. "I appreciate your concern in advance, but I will fine. I'm going because they need help...and I can help them."

Their immediate reaction was to think she was some kind of harlot or bed warmer and both of their cheeks grew flush but the weapons made the old farmer think twice about that. They had heard stories of brave women like Queen Nauriel who killed the Witch King and such.

“So, you’re like Queen Nauriel then? An adventurer? She kilt the Witch King ya know...long ago, would ya like to hear the story?” he asked. When she nodded he cleared his throat and began as they ate.

He spoke of her beauty and of how she traveled with Elessar, or, as he was called back then, Aragorn, who was in disguise due to the forces of evil hunting him and his kin, the Dunedain. They had many adventures and he was so enamored with her that he forsook his betrothal to Arwen, a beautiful Elf and daughter to Elrond himself, and married the Queen instead. He continued with the one ring and the ring war and how she struck down the Witch King by her own hand.

“I suppose the world could use more women like that,” he said and yawned. Hours had passed since she sat down, the old farmer had held her interest with his story and he appeared to know it well. “Well, we must git ta bed. You’re welcome ta sleep under our wagon near the fire...I have an extra bedroll I can give ya,” he said and got up. His wife had started cleaning everything up and he moved to his wagon and then stepped back to her and handed her a rolled up bedroll that had a blanket rolled up with it.

Kressara ate her potato as she listened to the farmer's story about her parents. She continued to keep her hood up, though in the firelight glimpses of her face could be seen. She had heard the story of her parents many times, by many different people, but it was a story she never grew tired of hearing, particularly the part of her mother killing the Witch King. It had nearly killed her and she still bore the scars from that battle, but what she had done had been incredibly brave and Kressara admired her greatly because of it. She hoped that one day she could be as brave or strong as her mother or grandmother.

She gratefully accepted the bedroll and blanket the farmer offered her and she laid down and slept for several hours under the wagon. She dreamt of her mother battling the Witch King, while unknowingly pregnant with her brother Eldarion...she dreamt of what awaited her at the southern border...and she dreamt of Havan...the man she loved. Kressara awoke before dawn and quietly readied Jack. Kressara didn't have much money on her, but she left a few gold pieces for the farmer and his wife as a token of her gratitude. She then mounted Jack and took off once again towards the southern border.

For several days the road south continued. More often then she liked she saw men a foot or on horse with bandages on their persons. Some looked worse than others but all had the look a man got when he had spent too long at the front. There were others on the road too, carts filled with soldiers who weren’t so lucky. Was Havan in one of those carts? She couldn’t know unless she asked after him however everyone she asked either didn’t know him or wasn’t certain. Or, he was alive the last time they saw him, but that was days ago. She continued on her way.

As she approached the rear encampment there were picket fortifications that surrounded the massive camp and it seemed to go on both east and west for some distance. Two guards in their armor stood watch at the rear entrance and they took note of her approach. Their armor was covered in mud and the recent spring rains had kept the ground quite damp. One guard nudges the other and he lifted up his face guard to regard her. “Beg ya pardon milady, only traders a soldiers allowed in,” he said and smiled. “But if yur here by invitation...I’m certain I could see my way ta let ya in,” he said with a grin as he looked over her body. His expression was decidedly...hungry. Obviously he took her for a harlot, that much was certain. Apparently women like her didn’t do what she was doing and so they had no idea how to take her and just made an assumption.

The road south was long, but Kressara pressed on, driven by the knowledge that Havan was there and he and his men needed help. She ate what she could along the way, killing small animals if she was unable to find anyone willing to sell her food. Finally, she approached the rear encampment. She slowed Jack to a walk and examined the picket fortifications. As she drew closer she spotted two guards. Only one appeared to be paying attention and it angered her that the second man wasn't doing his duty. She stopped Jack just before the men. Her hood was still up and covered much of her face. Her eyes narrowed as the second man mistook her for a harlot. She pushed back the hood of her cloak so the men could see her face.

"I very much doubt my father, the King of Gondor, would appreciate you speaking to me so," she said in a voice that commanded respect. "I am Kressara, daughter of King Elessar and Queen Nauriel and I demand entrance."

The soldier's eyes bulged in recognition and his face flushed a beet red. “Uh,,,,ohh...uh,” he stuttered and then stepped back and swung the arm gate out of her way and then waved her through without another word. The other guard wasn’t so sure she was who she said but he was alot younger and might have just joined the King’s Army.

The encampment had a fairly simple layout, Muddy white tents were all in rows and cook fires were peppered among them with men and women tending them. There were large tents that had wash women cleaning clothes and others butchering animals for the evening's meal. It wasn’t difficult to find the command tent where General Azalion’s banner flew just below her father’s banners. The Under officers tent would be near that and that was the best place to start if she wanted to find Havan.

As she passed the medical tent men groaned as they laid on rough, rickety pallets. A few men screamed as limbs were hewn off by surgeons trying to save their lives. The thick smell of fresh blood was thick in the air along with something else, low morale. Everywhere she looked the men appeared weary and forlorn. Some men looked at her but most seemed to look past her as if she just wasn’t really there. There were women too in muddy dresses. They sat with a few of the men who had bandages on their bodies, some singing softly to them to try and comfort them. Jack frisked uneasily as he smelled the fresh scent of blood and he kept near her as if he hoped she mount him and take him away from this place.

“Kressara?” A voice asked from her right. When she turned she saw Gowen Iteralda standing at the entrance to one of the under officer’s tents. He smiled at her and he held a mug of ale in his hand. His uniform, unlike the soldiers she passed, was clean and pressed. They had been friends when they were children but had drifted apart in the last few years. He was amazing with a spear and shield just like his father Jerol who acquitted himself well in the battle at the Pelennor Fields. Gowen was quite the jokester and he was never without his telltale grin that seemed always a part of his handsome face. He had curly brown hair and dark brown eyes that appealed to alot of women. “I’d say either you are very lost or you’ve lost someone and need to find them,” he laughed and moved up to give her a warm hug. He kissed her cheek then backed up a step. “It is good to see you again, how’ve you been?” he asked. Another one of his more pleasant traits...he treated her like just another person and not royalty. Not disrespectful exactly, he just had a way with people.

Kressara didn't look at the man again. She just pressed Jack on through the gate. Once inside, she dismounted and pulled the reins over his head to lead him. While Kressara had heard tales of war and battles before this was the first time she had ever been to the front lines. Everywere around her people were moving quickly. The ground was muddy from the rains and people's clothes were splattered with both mud and blood stains. There were lines of tents and from one of them she could hear men screaming. The sound reverberated through her very soul and affected her deeply. It would be one of the worst sounds Kressara would hear in her life. The soldiers she passed all seemed in a daze. They looked exhausted both physically and mentally. Looking up, she spotted General Azalion’s banner and she knew she was close to the officer's tents. She needed to find Havan and be sure he was alright...only then would she be able to do whatever else needed to be done.

She was starting to make her way towards the banner when she suddenly heard a voice to her right. As she turned she spotted Gown Iteralda, a childhood friend of hers. She was surprised to see him there, but was glad he was alright. As he hugged her she embraced him in return and looked at him. He had matured quite a bit since the last time she had seen him and she thought him rather handsome.

"I've been well...busy. I have been training with my grandparents for the past two years. I'm looking for Havan. Have you seen him?"

To say Gowen thought Kressara was beautiful was an understatement. But she was a Princess and he’d ‘try’ to behave himself. Well...mostly anyway. Upon her mentioning Havan though, his smiled faded quickly and he looked into his mug. For her to come all this way and speak after someone like Havan...implied things. Gowen was an intelligent man and hated giving bad news, especially to people he liked.

“Well Kressara...Havan and...and his men,” he began but was interrupted by a short, stout burly man with a thick, dark mustache and beard and no hair anywhere else upon his head. He had large hazel eyes and cracked walnuts with his hands and drew some to his mouth as he approached them. “You takin all the fairest visitors fer yeself now are ye Gowen,” Forgus asked. He was a non-commissioned officer and wore a thick, battered breastplate over his uniform. “Sergeant Forgus, meet Princess Kressara,” he began and Forgus quickly changed his stance to be more at attention then he had been. Spots of color appeared in his cheeks as well as he, like so many others thought that she was a harlot or bed warmer and Gowen was negotiating her price. "She’s looking for Havan,” he said and Forgus winced and would no longer meet her eyes.

Kressara noticed Gowen's rather drastic change in his expression and she immediately became concerned. She listened with great anticipation as he began to speak and felt dread come into her heart. Was she too late? Was he dead? She was holding her breath as she waited for him to finish his sentence, but suddenly he was interrupted by a short, bald man with a thick, dark beard and mustache. She barely listened as he spoke. Her mind was only on Havan and she needed to know where he was...right now.

"Where is Havan?" she questioned them both in a louder voice. "You will tell me NOW."

Forgus’s eyes grew large at her command but Gowen only blinked then nodded, his expression a guarded, curious one. Several other men came into the tent behind Gowen, by their rank insignia, more non-commissioned officers. One drew up to Gowen’s back and clapped him on his shoulder. “Gowen, did ya hear…” He began then started. “Mother’s milk in a cup!” He exclaimed then drew down on one knee in the mud. His uniform ‘had’ been clean until that though.

“Princess Kressara, you honor us by your presence,” he said and the others behind them all seemed to snap to attention and saluted her though askwardly not knowing if their official salute was appropriate to her. “Get up Esran, she is not part of our chain of command,” Gowen said and took hold of Kressara’s arm and led her away. “You forget yourself Kressara, you have no authority here to command men. You must be careful,” he said when they stepped into another tent. “Morale here is poised on a razor’s edge and I won’t have you disrupting that delicate balance because of one man,” he said in hushed tones. “I am not certain I want to tell you about Havan, not with that look in your eyes. Your arrival means that you’ve unwittingly put yourself under our protection,” he said then fingered her bow and sword. “Obviously this is not an idle visit and before i say anything, I’ll have an oath that you won’t just run off without a proper guard,” he said and narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

"I do not wish to command authority over anyone and that was never my intention," Kressara told Gowen sincerely. "I only want to know where the man I love is and if I must swear not to run off without protection then so be it. I swear to it. However, I think you should know that I do not need it. I would rather not place needed men in danger on my behalf, but since that is what must be in order for me to find Havan then so be it. I just ask that everyone remain out of my way and not try to stop me from doing what I must do. Now that I have acquiesced to your demand I ask the same of you. Where is Havan?"

“A few days ago Captain Goralind led a sortie as a diversion to get scouts behind enemy lines. He led himself right into an ambush. Alot of good men died including himself and Havan and his men got separated with the main attack force,” he told her as he walked with her into the main command tent. It was empty this time of day as the higher ranking officers were doing inspections of the men. There were maps all over the main table and Havan moved around it until he saw what he wanted. He pointed to a ridgeline where it had become quite rocky. It was an elevated position but difficult for patrols to get up and down. “Havan was supposed to run scouts out from here,” he said but,” He began then stopped. “We don’t know if he and his men survived Kressara and my Commander doesn’t feel endangering the lives of soldiers to find a few survivors, if there are any survivors, is worth the risk,” he said. “I know Havan is a very capable man but these Haradrim are keen of eye. They know this territory better than we do and their archers are deadly,” he explained. “It's been 3 days Kressara,” he said and looked into her eyes.

Kressara listened to Gowen as she followed him towards the main command tent. She didn't say anything, but studied the map the Gowen brought forward carefully. She looked at every detail, knowing that no detail was too small...her grandparents had both taught her that. Discounting something for any reason was a likely way to get yourself killed. She ran her finger along the ridgeline on the map memorizing every inch of it. She finally looked up and looked at Gowen for a moment before turning and walking out of the command tent. It would be clear to him that she was going to go there no matter what anyone said to her and woe be it to the man who tried to stop her. She heard Gowen follow her and she looked over at him. "I do not wish to put men's lives in danger. Only men who understand the risk and are truly willing to take it should come. Otherwise, I will go alone."

Gowen’s eyebrows rose up at her words and he followed her out and caught up to walk beside her. “One word to my commander Kressara and I can have you ‘escorted’ back to Minas Tirith, bound if it must be so. I see the look in your eyes. Your mind is focused like an arrow into finding Havan but the world is not a tunnel Kressara. There are no walls around you to protect you. Please, let me help you. We can form a plan that will give you the best chances to look for him and return,” Gowen said as he moved to stop her. When she seemed to ignore him he grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him, his eyes urgent as he looked into her own. “What good is finding him if you both die trying to get back!” He said harshly but in hushed tones. A few men had begun to watch them but kept their distance.

Kressara was rather surprised when Gowen grabbed her arm like he had. No man had ever grabbed her like that before. She yanked her arm out of his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. We'll form a plan, but quickly. Those men have been left out there for 3 days and I will not wait much longer. Do you know of anyone else who would be willing and brave enough to go with us?"

Gowen’s eyes widened in insult. “Left? Is that what you think? Three attempts at rescuing them has cost 3 times their numbers in more deaths and wounded. Don’t presume to think that you know what’s what Kressara. You embarrass yourself when you do that,” he said in a warning tone and then sighed and rubbed his temples as he looked down at the muddy ground. “Forgive me princess for my tone...look, I will help you, but impatience often leads good men to their deaths here. Please, slow down and I’ll gather a few men who I think can help us,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the under officer’s tent in an hour,” He said. When she seemed to look agitated at that he held up his finger. “One hour Kressara, see the quartermaster and get supplies,” He suggested and stepped away from her.

One hour later…

Gowen, with his round metal shield painted black and his long spear and short spears in a leather pouch on his back, Forgus with his breastplate also painted black and with a large broad hammer like weapon on his shoulder and 3 men she never met before entered the tent. One held a rolled up map and moved straight to the table and unrolled it. Another moved to the kettle and began to pour tea into small cups and hand them around.

“Princess, let me introduce to you Corporal Yearian Kirnan, ‘Yearly’” Gowen said and gestured to a an average sized man with dark eyes and hair in dark leather armor. His face and arms were painted in odd patterns in black, white a gray paint or oils. Above his shoulders were two short hilts of what looked like short swords and he had a sling on his hip. He knuckled his forehead in respect to her.

“Corporal Wickun Meetchum, ‘Wick’” he introduced next. A tall, lanky man with green eyes and blonde hair. He wore dark brown leathers and had a dark green cloak and fur-lined boots and leather helm. He held a longbow in his hands and on his back a fat quiver that brisled with dark-fletched arrows. He nodded to her.

Coreman Rikel Garshwain,” He gestured to next. He was about average height for a man with strikingly beautiful deep blue eyes and soft, wavy long, brown hair down to his shoulders. He might be the fairest man she ever saw. He wore a black tunic and dark brown pants that seemed to hug his body. On his shoulder a long, brown satchel. What was odd about him was that he carried no weapons save for a knife on his belt.

“Attend me,” Gowen asked and as the tea was passed around they began…

The plan was to stage another push on the east side of the camp. As those men are engaged they’d leave through the trenches on the western side to get behind the defence forces of the enemy. There would likely be stragglers but that could not be helped. What their job was was to not bring attention to themselves and get past the enemies forward picket lines. If they succeeded they’d have a fairly clear path to that ridge where havan’s men potentially were. In one days time with Havan and his men or not, they’d head back to catch another false push on the western side and they’d slip back in from the East. At the end Gowen asked each man specifically if they were willing to die for Havan and each one had said that they would and cited…’He’d do the same for them for certain sure’.

“Very well, if there are no objections, meet back here at dusk...a little over 2 hours from now and bring extra supplies in case things go badly,” Gowen said. The men nodded and left the tent, leaving himself and Kressara alone once again.

“What do you think Princess?” Gowen asked and he looked at her with eyes that might make her think that he liked what he was looking at. Unlike the others, for her to be here had unsettled him and his eyes held a certain amount of ‘warmth’ for her but appeared to keep it out of his words and actions.

Kressara blinked at Gowen, whose tone verged on disrespect. She knew that he preferred to treat her like anyone else, but princess or not she did not like being spoken to like that. Her eyes narrowed at him and thankfully he backed down his tone and apologized. She knew that they were both tense right now. For Kressara her love's life was at risk and this was the first real battle she was to be in. She was nervous and also a little frightened, but she would never let that fear hold her back...she couldn't. To do so meant death.

An hour later Kressara waited in the officer's tent for Gowen to return. She had visited the quartermaster and gotten extra supplies. The quartermaster at first had been hesitant to give her what she asked for, but after she reminded him of who she was and who her parents were he very quickly gathered what she requested. Kressara was anxiously tapping her fingers on the table when finally Gowen entered. She recognized Forgus, but the other three men she had never met before. All three men, Yearly, Wick, and Rikel, seemed able enough for the task and she knew that they must be extremely brave to risk their lives for Havan and his men. She studied the map that had been rolled out and listened as Gowen laid out their plan. There were several pieces to the plan and everything needed to go smoothly, otherwise they would get caught behind the enemy lines and would likely be killed. She sipped her tea and suddenly wished she had something much stronger to calm her nerves. She couldn't back out now. If she did Havan and his men would surely die and those deaths would rest upon her shoulders.

After the other men left, Kressa was left alone with Gowen once again. When he asked her what she thought of the plan she looked at him. In his eyes she could see possibly some unspoken feelings he held for her. His eyes radiated warmth and affection. They had once been close friends, but never anything more and although at one point that friendship might have blossomed into something else her love for Havan was strong and true.

"I think it sounds like a good plan, but we should be prepared for anything. I...I just hope we aren't too late."

Ooc: new thread