Denethor fumed. His captain stood to attention, his face an unreadable mask, as always, though water dripped from his hair and clothes and evaporated in the hot sand at his feet.
"I thought my orders were clear, Captain! No man was to cross the Poros River. By no means!"
Denethor felt his ire rising the more he thought about the Captain's foolhardy action.
"I do not contrive my orders out of spite, Captain, but advert to the dangers of South Gondor!"
"Permission to speak, lord Denethor?"
Denethor granted permission, albeit grudgingly.
"I defied your orders to assert myself of rumours about the position of Haradric troops south of the river."
The captain stepped closer to Denethor's desk, unbidden, and jabbed a damp finger at the map that lay spread out upon it.
"The Haradrim are stationed here, here and here. If we cross the river over there under cover of darkness, we can come upon them from behind. They will be trapped."
Denethor stared dumbfoundedly at the map and the damp spots left behind by Thorongil's finger.
"And now, if you would excuse me, I'd like to get out of these wet clothes and cook myself a cup of tea."*****
A/N: This double drabble was one result of an Instant Drabbling session held October 22. The given words were adverts, contrive, cooking, and assertive
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