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_erchirion_ (_erchirion_) wrote in unfinished_logs, @ 2010-03-31 17:43:00

Erchirion son of Imrahil was kneeling by a flower. It was a small flower, ordinary save for the corpses that lay around it, but Erchirion treated it with delicate reverance. He used a magnifying scope to look at it from all sides, seeking out the little indicators he required before plucking it and putting it in his flower box. He disliked killing flowers for no need.

But there was a need. "Serve me well, bright one," the Dol Amrothian whispered as he clipped the flower's stem with his dagger and added the plant to his collection.

He stood up then, looking around at the Fields of Pelennor and the remains of battle that were slowly being carried away, day by day. He stood not far from Osgiliath, his short white horse grazing nearby.

Erchirion sheathed his dagger and walked over to his horse, untying a sack of water from its saddle. He had received no answer from Aragorn about the Siege weapons, but he was patient. All in due time.

All in due time...