#orchalwe

Orchalwe is complete for the Hot Rangers In Chains (and Other Situations) pinup!

"This is all my fault."

The voice was soft, barely a whisper above the sound of the falls. The frogs did not add their voices, and the snakes made no passage and no sound. She could not help him now, not the way he needed.

"My fault..." It was a small, despondent repetition. Gwindeth stepped around the bodies of the others, some still in hurt or slumber, some shifting in pain or confusion. She found him and crouched down. This one she knew from the city. This one watched over the places of his ancestors and his living kin alike. This one was good.

He couldn't see her with his face creased like that. Contorted in pain and guilt. She didn't like being seen, not always, but this one was lost. He did not need to suffer so. Gwindeth ran a hand just over his forehead. Water ran freely off his face and moved his hair from his eyes. It fell into the grass from the cloak and shoulder-guard pressing so heavily on his neck.

One of the others would come around soon. Not many in her halls were in grave danger. A few. She would see to them before it became worse. But this one needed her, if only for another moment. His despair was heavier than the water draining back into her ponds. Water could do so much good and so much harm to Men. Heal or hurt.

"I should have... now we're all..."

He was still in the throes. Guilt or pain or guilt and pain. The losses could have been heavier. He did not know. A frog croaked. Gwindeth turned and saw the largest Man roll onto his stomach. His cloak ran with water and with blood, but still he tried to get to his knees. He would stumble in another moment. Untended, he would die in another minute.

"No," she finally said. Softly, for his ears alone. "It is not yours. It is mine, and not wholly mine. Will I guard Elendil's tomb but not his children?"

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