Dead Man Walking @ theshipwright 

the-iron-crown:

As soon as permission was granted, Murazor ran. Something had come over him as well- it was not quite deja vu, and more of a lack of ideas. When last he had fled this way, he had made for the East- for Mirkwood and Mordor. Now his reason told him not to do this, but his memory took over his rational mind. From the sea-house he made for the streets, and from those into the thin, coastal woodland.

Now he felt every disadvantage of being Mortal. Were he undead still he could have continued running but now, after only a half-hour’s adrenaline-charged sprint, his lungs and legs all but crumbled. He began to stumble more and more, and his falls collected dirt and wayward branches. Mud splashed up into his face, slapping his cheeks and clouding his eyes, and efforts to wipe it away only added to the mess. If only he still had a horse, he could perhaps stand a chance of leaving this wretched place, but as it stood there was little hope.

With every step the going became harder, until finally his progress halted entirely and he settled. bracing his back against a tree and panting. More and more streaks of white appeared in his hair, and he could feel his insides ache with an ever-weakening magic. His Mortality had once more gone to waste.

When Murazor ran, Círdan watched where he went before taking off after him.  He deviated enough to go to the stables, quickly mounting his horse and making sure a second horse was available to come with him.  The Lord knew he had some time before he managed to navigate the serpentine stone streets that opened into the coastal wooded area.

By the time he ended up collapsed in the woods and propped against a tree, Círdan had caught up with him.  Dismounting from his horse, he commanded the mare to stay before he cautiously moved closer.  He held out an flask of water as he crouched down in front of the man.  "You do not look so well,“ he motioned to the white that peppered his hair.  

"If you are willing to speak with me, I will help you,” his voice was gentle once more and he resisted the impulse to wipe some of the mud from his face.  He just seemed so frail, so pitiful in this particular moment.  "I have brought you a horse with supplies.“




nowe.
cirdan the shipwright.
lord of the grey havens.



independent & selective

shipwright

played by simon