Ghosts

[Pinkie]

A surge of irritation rushed through Eonan as she stood inside Boromir's room. She had been there a very long time now. Once they had all retired from the ballroom, Denethor had dismissed her, wishing to be alone with his thoughts. Eonan had had little choice in readying herself to face Boromir. The anxiety and irritation was partly due to her own nature and a tiny bit to do with his.
She knew he had every intention on bedding her. She had observed him all of these years, there was little she did not notice about him, there was little she did not understand in his motives and movements. And whilst she longed to be the woman in his bed she knew that it would ruin her completely to be that woman tonight. Boromir wanted to use her tonight. Nothing more.
Eonan's loyalty to the Steward's family was thicker than blood but she could not allow ... this.

She loved him.
Simply. Quite simply, she loved Boromir. For him to use her and then discard her before sleeping would shatter Eonan inside and out. She had read novels of romance and she longed for that but knew it was not for her. She knew it was not for her so late in life. But she would not just 'settle' either! She dare not!

The servant's basket of herbs and unctions sat by the door and she stood in front of the fire, twisting her slim hands. She wanted to pace but was afraid that she would miss something, taht she might miss him entering. She had to be ready for this.
She was a healer. She was a servant. Not a whore.

Taking a deep breath, Eonan had almost quelled her anxiety when the door of the room flung open and she gasped, dipping into a deep curtsey and beginning to tremble again. Her icy eyes were downcast and her entire body prickled to anticipate anything. His mere presence sent her heart into a painful, thundering charge within her chest.

"My Lord. I am here as you requested." she said in a deferential voice, her tone somewhat husky from nervousness. She had changed her clothes before coming to his room but the woollen, dark blue dress she wore was unremarkable. Her black hair hung down over her cheeks like a curtain, protecting her. She hoped.

[Pinkie]

Kawalsky saw her eyes widen at the sight of his teeth. A part of him wanted to tell her just to get it over with. But how to tell someone that you were a werewolf without having them run screaming from teh room was a gift John Kawalsky had not yet mastered. Maybe in time it would be easier to just tell people on first meeting - 'The teeth and eyes and penchant to turn dog-like on a full moon? Yeah, I'm a werewolf' - Or perhaps he could wear a t-shirt stating the fact.
Inwardly, John sighed.
His own demons....
He despised the very thing that he was... something unnatural, something not earthly. Maybe when he came to terms with that he might be able to communicate it to others without terrifying them.

And this little woman! She was a warrior - out in the world alone. God only knew what horrors she had faced in her lifetime on this strange planet. But right now, in that very bedroom on that very night, with days in each other's company behind them... she suddenly looked very small, very fragile, and very much in need of someone to prop her up. Kawalsky could not be that person - not with a clear conscience. What when he changed? What would happen if she was near him and he changed? He could squash her with one flick of his paw...

Eledhwen said:

"I am sorry, Sometimes I feel... so alone..."

Kawalsky took a deep breath when she commiserated with him about his father. He frowned a little, rubbing a hand down his face from nose to chin, watching her with golden eyes as she sat down on the mattress. There was no sound except her hitched breath and her very human confession.

Alone.
It was something everyone could relate to at some point in their lives. Kawalsky always felt alone but it was a forced loneliness. When people got over their fear of him he insisted on keeping his distance nonetheless. For their safety. he didn't trust himself. And why should he? Why should anyone? At any given moment he could vanish and be replaced with a monster. And yet ...

He could relate to her loneliness. He wanted to soothe her loneliness. He had no idea how to and so his movements were awkward, hesitant.
Kawalsky's lanky form pushed off from the wall and he took a few steps forward, the fingertips of one hand clutching the fingertips of the other, his head tilted to the side - albeit like a curious puppy - as he stepped another two steps and paused. His angular jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

"The universe is a big place, Eledhwen.... sometimes it's the hardest thing to feel like you fit in... sometimes it's easier to be alone." he said, his voice knowledgeable and yet sad. Kawalsky was now beside the bed, his fingertips white with the fierce grip he kept upon them. It was the natural thing to do to reach out and touch her head in a semblance of comfort. But that was not a liberty that John was willing to take.
"But people like you don't have to be alone really. You can mingle. You can smile and you can blend. My kind ... " John gave a bitter smile and tucked his chin down to his chest, looking at his thick fingers, finally releasing his fingertips to feel the rush of blood to the tips. It was a bit more information than he would normally give, informing Eledhwen that he was not quite her kind, human... ".... we don't blend so well. Least not every day of the month." John gave a wry grin at her, his golden eyes twinkling gently, softening his otherwise hard expression. His face was all angles and sharp lines except when he smiled.

[Pinkie]

((ooc: Hrmm -- shall we assume that Haldir bumped into Boromir along the way and told him what he knows? I just realised that I was meant to do that
Oh and on another note -- I was walking the dogs tonight thinking about my Kawalsky post here and something really inappropriate popped into my head which I must tell you about on YIM sometime ))

[Pinkie]

Mark said:

"It's nice, I like it,"

Gypsy smiled behind the curtain of dark hair that had fallen down her forehead. She was about to toss her hair back when she felt warm, unfamiliar fingertips on the nape of her neck. Hesitant of any caresses, Gypsy's face flinched, but her body reacted differently. She held her breath and goosebumps ranged up and down her body, front and back. It was an exhilirating feeling and she wished it would last a bit longer. She felt no fear attached to that touch.

Even when Mark pulled his tuoch away the young woman remained with her head bowed, holding the hair off the nape of her neck. She was 'recovering' as it were. It was too late in the night to try and discern what, exactly, had just happened there. Maybe it was nothing. Yeah, that's what it was. It was just nothing. It was just Mark for crying out loud.

Gypsy gave a sigh of relief for having figured out her feelings and tossed her hair back into place, tilting her head to the side to look at Mark with her trademark cheeky grin.

Mark said:

"If that's the only mistake you made in your youth I wouldn't worry too much, And anyway, what d'ya mean, I haven't always been this good? You think I'm good? God you make me sound so old and boring!"

Her trademark, cheeky grin became an empty fixture on her innocent face. Gypsy felt the blood drain right down to her boots and instead of goosebumps she felt a shiver. The only mistake? Well, there had been a few. Her dark eyes became distant as she looked at Mark and for a moment it was Tomas she cuold see. Her expression was fleeting but for a fraction of a second there was a look of anxious fear to her eyes -- and then gone, when Mark cuffed her shoulder.

Gypsy flinched from the gentle thump. It should have been familiar! It was familiar! Except Tomas was on her mind and with Tomas that kind of thing was serious. It wasn't a playful tap to her shoulder, it was a vicious fist to knock her down and hurt her. The young woman bowed her head giving a nervous breath of laughter, her arm crossing over her chest and her hand rubbing her shoulder gently.

"Yeah ... " she murmured the response to his question, relieved when Mark turned away from her, flopping down onto his back.
Again, it was familiar.
Gypsy looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Maybe it was because she was tired and a little upset, but she wanted so badly to just curl up next to him with her head on his chest. Strange that such a thing had never even crossed her mind when out in teh wilderness. Now that they were in relative safety she was looking to him for security.

Oh she was being silly!
Gypsy frowned, pursed her lips and looked down at the mattress, re-arranging her thoughts again. She was good at that. She was good at masking things and she so wanted to be herself! She wanted to be the way she had been with Mark all these long days and not be all hesitant around him the way she was with Tomas! Clicking her tongue, Gypsy dropped one hand to the mattress and fidgeted wth the sheet... She parted her lips to speak but Mark got htere first --

Mark said:

"We should go to bed, I mean... I... should go to bed... here... and you should... go... back to your own bed..."

Now that was funny!
Gypsy's eyebrows shot up and she was almost flung from the bed so quick did Mark move. She looked up at him in surprise, her lips tugging outwards in a smile, her hand still on her shoulder but not rubbing, just laying there innocently. The look on his face was utterly flustered and embarrassed! The young woman gave a great laugh and rolled onto her back easily, throwing her head back on the sheets.

"Oh God you should see your face!" she exclaimed, feeling both relieved to be laughing again, and amazed that he had her laughing so easily. Of course Gypsy had not quite thought through what he had said, and what way she was meant to have taken his first suggestion... Her dark eyes twinkled when she turned her head towards him and she spluttered another laugh then put a hand over her mouth, looking sweet and tiny laying on the big bed so comfortably. Her fingers parted and she stuck her tongue out at him then quickly hopped up, bouncing onto her knees on the bed, hands on hips. The bed continued to rock and bounce even when she stilled, a look of stark, mock indignation on her face -

"Hey! Are you kicking me out?! After all we've been through, you're kicking me out! I can't believe it. Last time I save your ass, Mark." she jibed before cracking out into giggles again. her shoulders slumped and her posture relaxed, the bravado gone but leaving her with a peaceful, gentle smile. Her brown eyes did look tired but they held vitality and vibrance yet. She smiled fondly at Mark, her hands folded on her lap now and before he could say anything, she told him what she thought of him --

"And yeah... Yeah I do think you are good, babe. Too good. But that's not a bad thing." she told him honestly, her brown eyes dropped and a twinge of sadness tinted her smile - And I know bad... she thought miserably.

[Pinkie]

Thrace knew when he turned back to her with his eyes ablaze that maybe, just maybe, she had pushed too far. God only knew what kind of a man he really was - all she knew was the surly, abusive, sot of a Captain. She didn't know Nathan Lake deep down. She was frustrated about the whole fucking lot of it! About Boromir, about Lake, about Mark - fucking Mark! Showing up and sitting upon that ever so high horse looking down his nose at her still, fucking still. Hadn't she given him what he wanted?!
The blonde felt a surge of something akin to fear when Lake grabbed her wrist and dragged her after him like he was a caveman and she was dinner. Her hazel eyes turned to hard, unyielding flint as she glared at the back of his head, tugging her arm away from him uselessly.

She was flung into the room and then up against the closed door, and before she had a chance to spit at him, bite him or kick him in the balls, he was kissing her. It was a kiss filled with everything - with all of him and all of her. It was anger and passion, lust and hate and sorrow! Thrace bit back hard at Lake's kiss, delving her tongue into his mouth and demanding more from him even if he was not willing or able to give it. Her body writhed against the door, arms struggling to get free from his grasp. She wanted to hit him! She wanted to hurt him and love him and make him regret, sorely regret, throwing her around like this.

Lake said:

"You have no fucking idea what you're playing with here, I fucking warned you, I am not one of your fucking pretty boy soldiers that you can mess with and not expect consequencies."

Lake withdrew and Thrace glared at him. She pulled one hand free and immediately slapped it against the nape of his neck, fingers clawing into the short hair there, hazel eyes intent on his blue. She had never actually been that close to him before. Close enough to see the threat in his eyes, the emptiness that went all the way to his heart. His hips pressed hard against hers, forcing her tight against the wall. The blonde tipped her head back, shutting her eyes and hitched one leg upwards and outwards, thumping her heel into the back of his thigh.

"I'm not fucking playing." she ground out between gritted teeth, breathless though she had hardly exerted herself.
Thrace pulled her other wrist free and grabbed the end of Lake's t-shirt, shoving it upwards even though he had not even taken off his jacket yet. She felt the rippling tendons of his abdomen responding to her palm as she pressed it flat against his heated skin. In all honesty she had not expected him to feel that good, so ... strong. It was a different strong to how Mark felt though...

Mark!
Thrace almost howled as the image of her former lover entered her mind. A part of her wished that this was Mark now, and not Nathan Lake. But they were too different for her to imagine that this was Mark.
The hand on the nape of his neck gripped the collar of his jacket and t-shirt and pulled upwards roughly, throwing the clothing down to the ground behind him.
She moved her face closer to his, palms flat on his bare shoulders, eyes searching his face and eyes for something ... anything. But she saw only Nathan Lake.
Frustrated, Thrace slapped Lake in the face, across his cheek. She frowned at him, pulling her leg inwards, forcing her heel into the back of his thigh and thus his hips against hers.

"Fuck... come on Lake. Do something!" she taunted him in a whispering voice.

[Bogwoppit]

Oh Christ, now he had made her cry... DJ hated women who cried. Well, not hated them exactly, just, didn't know what to do with them. He had never been very good at the sympathy thing. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, unwittingly sending the sheet sliding down his torso to settle at his hip. Tangled as it was it only just covered his modesty, leaving little of his soldier's physique to the imagination.

"I I I I .. Mari. I am Mari, my Lord and I am so, so very sorry for disturbing you. Pl.. please forgive my clumsiness."

He stared at her with a bemused expression as she dipped a professional looking curtsey. Did people really do that? And had she really just called him 'my lord'? She was sweet though, very young of course, but very pretty in an innocent kind of way.

DJ had always held onto his dream of one day rescuing a damsel in distress, of being someone's hero, of some grateful young woman gazing at him in adoration as he saved her from a fate worse than death. Unfortunately he had neither the natural charisma of Major West, nor the reckless, uncaring attitude of Captain Lake, so he rarely found himself a situation in which he could realise his dream. It all came from spending far too much time alone as a child with only books for company. It had given him a love of literature ~ no bad thing, but it had also left him with a slightly less than healthy outlook on life, hence his love of history, legend, and solitude.

This was why he had been so thrilled when they had arrived here in Minis Tirith, and even before, when they had run into Eledhwen in Rohan. This place was like a living legend, with knights and monsters and Elves and chivalrous deeds. Now here before him was his very own damsel in distress... and he hadn't the faintest idea what to say.

"I have brought you breakfast and I am to assist you this morning in d.d.d. oh goodness."

Oh crap she was going to faint...

Before he could think about it he was out of bed, trying to grab the sheet around his waist with one hand while catching Mari with the other. She hadn't actually fallen, just stepped forward slightly as she rose out of that ridiculous curtesy, but DJ acted before she had caught herself.

"Are you ok?" he asked, guiding her by one elbow to the bed to sit down. "You're not pregnant are you?"

In his limited experience, ie, the girl who lived upstairs at his apartment in Colorado Springs, any time a woman felt faint it was because she was pregnant, so it seemed a fair assumption to him, especially when one considered the probable lack of contraception on this planet.

He sat beside her, hitching the sheet further up around his waist to cover his dignity, but little else. His wiry torso was pale from spending too much time in a lab, faint browner lines circling the tops of his arms showing his preference for t-shirts rather than the vests that a lot of the men wore. DJ was lucky, he didn't have to work to get fit, he was naturally more muscle than fat, burning every calorie he ingested. Lucky in that he hated working out, couldn't stand all the testosterone floating about in the gym, or the attitude of the jocks who frequented the place.

He glanced at the food laid out on the tray by his bed, mouth watering. He was starving.

[Bogwoppit]

Eledhwen took a deep breath, shaking only slightly as she blew the air out between pursed lips. She prided herself on being strong, on never showing weakness, so what was she doing almost crying in front of this stranger?

She watched him walk towards her, his height surprisingly not intimidating as he stopped just before the bed. Would he reach out to her? Would he give her false sympathy and assurances? She did not think she could stand such insincerity.

"The universe is a big place, Eledhwen.... sometimes it's the hardest thing to feel like you fit in... sometimes it's easier to be alone. But people like you don't have to be alone really. You can mingle. You can smile and you can blend. My kind.... we don't blend so well. Least not every day of the month."

She frowned, looking up at him from beneath her fringe which had fallen across her face. This was not what she had expected, and it confused her. She had expected him to tell her that she was not alone, that she had him and his people now perhaps, or at least that she had people who loved her back home in Rohan.

He looked different when he smiled ~ his whole face softened and he became less daunting somehow, although she hadn't been aware she had found him daunting before. Something about him reminded her now of Eomer, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"What do you mean?" she asked softly, gesturing to her side for him to sit beside her. "Your kind... are you not of the same... kind as your people?"

The words were out even as she realised how ridiculous they were. Of course he was not the same, of course he was different ~ you only had to look into those eyes, catch sight of those teeth, to know that. Eledhwen could have kicked herself for asking the question out loud, for forcing the issue to the surface. Now he would have to answer her... But then, surely he was the first to have brought the subject up? Had he not said himself that he was of another kind?

[Pinkie]

Oh she was young! And more prone to be a damsel in distress than any other woman in Middle Earth. It wasn't that she was reckless. Mari was just clumsy. She burned things. She dropped things. She sat on things and tripped over things and spilled things. Anything that could wrong was more than likely to go wrong when Mari was in close proximity. Her natural penchant for wide eyed, doll-like prettiness made her quite a hit with men but they were soon scared off by one thing or another about her character. Mari tried... All she wanted to do was please people.

DJ said:

"Are you ok? You're not pregnant are you?"

One hit after another!

Mari's brown eyes shut tight and she squeeked when DJ loped across the room towards her in just a sheet. She sunk down onto his bed with another murmur of anxiety and when she turned her face towards him and he asked if she were pregnant, of all things, Mari just about broke out into fresh tears!
Her bottom lip trembled and her eyebrows knotted together pitifully as she shook her head emphatically, staring at him in both awe and astonishment. Men were usually not so forward!

"No... No my Lord, I'm only seventeen. Eighteen this week." she told him in a shaky voice. "I've not even had a uhm uhm ..." Mari licked her lips, dropping her eyes in embarrassment, but of course her eyes just fell onto the fascinating sight of DJ's bare torso. Her mouth went dry and she whimpered again, putting one hand up to shield her eyes. "A lover." she whispered the word in a tiny, shy voice.

Placing a hand on her thigh, Mari went to stand but flopped back down on the bed beside DJ with a murmur of 'oops' - She swallowed hard and slowly moved her hand down from her eyes, but continued looking ahead, her youthful profile clean and soft.
"Why wuold you think I was pregnant? Wh.." Mari asked, turning to look at DJ quickly, a hand immediately falling to her flat stomach which she promptly sucked in self consciously. Her brown eyes were a mixture of worry and accusation as she looked at DJ, then down at her stomach.

Her swooning forgotten, Mari stood up and smoothed her hand against her stomach, pushing in bumps and bulges that were not there.

"Do I look pregnant? Is it possible to be pregnant without knowing a man where you come from?" Mari asked, wide-eyed with innocence and fascination, her hand still plastered to her stomach and her duties almost forgotten. It was quite typical of her really - to get so wrapped up in satiating her curiosity that she forgot what she was meant to be doing.

[Bogwoppit]

"Hey! Are you kicking me out?! After all we've been through, you're kicking me out! I can't believe it. Last time I save your ass, Mark."

For a minute, just for a minute, Mark was flummoxed. Even though deep down he knew damn well she was just kidding, he wanted to say no, that he wasn't kicking her out at all, that he wanted her to stay, that he just wanted someone to hold him for just one night. His blue eyes were pinched as he looked at her bounce to a stop, for a second betraying his normally tightly reined saddness. Then he realised that he should be laughing along with her, that of course she didn't mean it, that spending the night with him would be the last thing she would ever want, and so he grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"And yeah... Yeah I do think you are good, babe. Too good. But that's not a bad thing."

For a long moment their gazes met and held, each showing a glimpse of what lay beneath the surface of a generally happy disposition. Mark saw the sadness tinging Gypsy's brown eyes, and he wanted to fold her in his arms and protect her from whatever it was that she was thinking about.

"Hey, are you ok?" he asked softly, serious once again as he stepped forward to lay one big hand on her delicate shoulder.

Her bones felt like those of a bird beneath his palm, and he was struck again by how frail she seemed, far too frail to be the one protecting his ass all the way here. There was strength there though, of character as well as physically, he had seen that several times over the last three days, and he admired it. She wasn't just some dizzy little girl playing at being a soldier, as some might think seeing her for the first time, as indeed he had thought when they had assigned her to him for the trip. He had been a bit... condescending towards her at first, patronising... a trait Katee had labelled him with several times. A trait he wasn't proud of. Now though he had a great deal of respect for this diminutive soldier, and he didn't like to think of her upset.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, sitting back down and letting his hand slide down her arm to her wrist, still keeping a light contact as he spoke.

Another bad habit of his ~ interfering... sticking his nose in where it was sometimes not wanted and thinking he had an answer for everyone's problems. Again, he knew he did it, and again, he always made the excuse to himself that he had a wealth of experience to draw on, that he could help, that the situation only required someone to look at it from the outside to see the solution.

[Pinkie]

Perhaps he did want to tell someone. It had been a long time since he had told someone and he wondered if his ability to vocalise it had improved any, or if reactions would be different. Of course he had not come to her this night to reveal to her his true demons, it just seemed to have happened. All the talk of Elves and their bad habits, aliens and their evil other sides... it reminded Kawalsky of his own bad and evil other half. His golden eyes narrowed at the bed when Eledhwen gestured there. He wasn't so sure about sitting next to her right now -- not before she knew what he was in any case.

Eledhwen said:

"What do you mean? Your kind... are you not of the same... kind as your people?"

Kawalsky gave a half smile at the young woman and took a deep breath.

"No... not quite." he admitted with a lopsided smile. He shook his head an sighed heavily. Turning, he looked around and put his hand on the arm of a chair a few feet away. He turned the chair around to face Eledhwen and sat down on the arm of it. It was not intentional, but Kawaksly was delibrately not getting comfortable around the girl. Not that he didn't trust her... well, he didn't, not completely anyways, but it was more a conscious effort to keep him aware of his surroundings and situation. It was so that he didn't lose himself.

The soldier cleared his throat and steepled his fingers together between his parted knees. His shoulders were hunched as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

"Don't be scared ok?" he said firstly, lifting his eyebrows at her. He cocked his head to one side and self-consciously tucked his upper lip down over his sharp canines. "I was on a mission.. another planet, another galaxy, a long time ago, and I was bitten." Kawalsky said it just as he had always planned to say it and for once it came out right. Except for one little thing. The man cleared his throat again and frowned, looking down at his fingers nervously.

"By a wolf. A werewolf. Do you know what a werewolf is?" he asked, lifting his golden eyes to hers quickly. In that flash the woman should have been able to guess what a werewolf was. Without tempering his mood and emotions, Kawalsky's eyes took on a feral light, his pupils narrowed so that, accompanied with the stubble on his cheeks and jaw, he looked every bit a wolf. "Don't .. " he lifted a hand to placate her, his expression pleading, "Don't be afraid, ok? It just means that every time there's a full moon I ... change."

Ok, so he had not improved much on how to get this across to someone.
Kawalsky waited a moment and then blew out a nervous laugh.

"Bet you'd rather be alone right now then huh?" he said in a husky tone of voice, unbeknownst to him it sounded much like a growl.

[Bogwoppit]

Boromir strode along the corridor, fresh from his meeting with Faramir, only to have been stopped by Haldir before he could reach his rooms. Now he was even more tense than he had been. The Elf, while very good at what he did, always seemed to be predicting portents of doom. Boromir knew why he was here, knew why he had remained behind while his people took the gate to the Undying lands, but sometimes, at times like this, he wished Haldir didn't feel the need to burden him with all the dark, underlying secrets of the ether which he alone seemed privvy to.

Slamming open the heavy wooden door he burst into his room, seething with frustration, to find someone already there before him. Eonan! Well, that at least would save him the job of summoning her.

"My Lord. I am here as you requested."

Without missing a beat, and completely ignoring her, he kicked off his boots, untying his shirt and pulling it off over his head before reaching the bed. He looked with satisfaction at the steaming tub of water in front of the roaring fire, and almost groaned with anticipation as he stripped the rest of his clothes. Entirely unselfconscious, he walked naked to the tub and stepped in, sliding instantly down into the fragrant depths and leaning his head back, closing his eyes with a sigh.

"Come here Eonan," he summoned softly without opening his eyes, not doubting for one moment that she would comply without question.

Still relaxing back, he lifted a cloth from down beside his hip and held it out.

"Soap my back will you?" he ordered insolently, opening troubled eyes at last as he sat forward.

He glanced briefly at her, noticing unconsciously that she had changed her dress. For him? The thought made him smile, and he closed his eyes again feeling slightly better than before. Leaning his arms on his raised knees he bent his head forward so that she could reach all of his neck and back. At that moment he had his mind more on getting clean and relaxed than bedding her, but doubtless that would all change as he felt the press of feminine hands upon his heated flesh.

[Pinkie]

Gypsy kinda knew what was coming and she was ok about it. With Mark she never felt obliged to do, say, think or be anything but herself. If she wanted to flop down and cry on him, she could. If she wanted to rant and rave at him for poking his nose in, she could. Neither option was 'Gypsy' though. Her big, brown eyes watched Mark innocently.

Mark said:

"Hey, are you ok? You wanna talk about it?"

He put a hand on her shoulder and Gypsy smiled bravely. It was an easy smile though - not forced in the slightest and she did not try to cover up anything either. She just smiled. Mark came around to sit next to her and she tilted her head at him, his hand sliding down to her wrist. Gypsy shook her head, sucking her lips in between her teeth but continuing to smile.

She knew what he meant 'talk about it' -- he meant about her sadness, he meant about her flinching from his playful thump. He meant about her husband. Gypsy didn't want to though. She didn't want to be 'his wife' tonight. She just wanted to be herself and with Mark she could be just that.
Her brown eyes flickered up to his face and she sat down to the side, legs tucked up under her now, one arm reaching out to prop herself up on the bed.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she turned it back on him sneakily, breathing a small laugh and shook her head again. She had meant if he wanted to talk about whatever troubled him - that if he was willing to talk about hsi problems, she might just talk about hers. Might. "Nah.." Gypsy breathed, turning her arm over and placing her palm into his. She closed her fingers around his hand, twined with his fingers and rubbed her thumb against the veins across the back of his hand.

"Just ... well, Nah." she amended, wrinkling her nose and giving Mark another brave smile. She puffed out a laugh, making an effort now and then tipped to the side even more, her shoulder leaning against Mark's, face downcast to their joined hands. "There's nothing to really talk about. Probably just the late hour and the shock of coming in here and finding you stark naked. Plays devil with a girl's heart to see an old man like you has a firmer butt than she's got." Gypsy managed to sound cheeky, the mellow tone from earlier vanishing and her brown eyes twinkled as she let out a giggle. "Yep! I sneaked a peek." the girl said proudly, facing Mark with a beaming, triumphant grin, only a hint of her earlier tension still about her eyes.

[Pinkie]

A dream! It had to be a dream!

Eonan's chilly blue eyes were peering out from behind the strands of onyx hair as Boromir moved to the other side of the room. Her breath hitched when he stripped off his shirt revealing his muscular body beneath. She had never been one of those who were called to assist his baths and so this was all new to her. Many years she had longed to be the one to be there for this moment, and now that she was she wanted to scream and run!

Boromir said:

"Come here Eonan,"

The stupidest thing to feel such elation at him remembering her name! Eonan's downcast face slowly lifted as Boromir continued to undress. She swallowed hard and her heart hammered thunderously in her chest. She could hear the blood throbbing in her ears and by all the heavens she cuold not deny the sensual arousal that stirred within the pit of her stomach to see the man of her dreams disrobed so.

"Yes m'lord.." she whispered reverently, stepping towards him as beckoned. His hard body beneath the water shimmered before her eyes. Eonan had a hard time drawing her gaze from his cut frame but once she did she found hereslf looking upon his troubled eyes. Her head cocked to the side as he shifted in the water.

Boromir said:

"Soap my back will you?"

The servant reached a steady hand out and took the cloth from Boromir's hand without touching his skin. She felt like her skin was trying to crawl from her bones with goosebumps. Her thin fingers wrapped around the cloth and she squeezed it, licking her lips as she sunk to her knees behind Boromir. The rigid line of his spine was exposed to her, the skin pulled tight over each bump and ridge that he wanted her to soap...

Eonan tensed her jaw, trying to stop herself from turning into a complete waste of human space ogling her master, and she resolutely placed the cloth to his back. Only the cloth, consciosuly only the cloth. Holding her breath, she ran it across the broad expanse of his shoulders, eyes rivetted in fascination as the liquid ran down the lines of muscle and tendons.
She dipped it in beside his hip and made the same movement across his shoulders. Her little finger slipped off the cloth and touched his skin but she continued, holding her breath.

Was this a punishment? He had been annoyed with her earlier... maybe this was his way of punishing her? And yet, could she call it punishment?! She was so close to him, where she wanted to be for so long and she felt such anxiety for it! Perhaps because she knew his intentions upon her... and yet , yet didn't he look tired? Didn't he look like he needed somebody to tend to him, to ease him?

Eonan's body slowly started to relax and her dipping of the cloth into the water and along the soldier's back became more practised and easy. She tipped her head to the side, hair falling down one cheek, and looked at the side of his face discreetly.
Yes... he did deserve some consideration for all the work he did for Gondor!
The healer draped the cloth over the side of the bath and rubbed her hands together to warm them a little. Always had cold hands.

Gingerly she placed her palms onto Boromir's shoulders and squeezed, massaging the tense muscles slowly, carefully, considerately. His skin felt so good against hers. His muscle felt so tight, so masculine.
Eonan pressed her thumbs into the stiff knots, blowing a breath upwards to move the strand of hair from her vision.

"mm -- your arm..." she asked, kneeling down to the side of the bath now, running her wet hand down his wet arm from shoulder to elbow and back again, twisting the muscles into place gently. Her blue eyes flickered from his arm to his face. Seeing him watching her she cuold not help but give a half smile at him, a genuine smile which made her face brighten gently. "What?" she asked, shyly looking back at his arm... but only for a moment for she had to look at him again! "I am a healer... I am meant to know these things. It is not some deviant game or trick, I assure you." Eonan said in a light tone of voice, very quiet, her accent sounding a little awkward. She rarely spoke so much so freely!

[Bogwoppit]

When she wriggled her hand free he thought she was going to try punching him again, and he braced himself for it. Part of him hoped that she would, he needed this, he needed a fight and he knew she would give it to him. Every minute of the day he raged inside against the unfairness of life, drink the only thing that dulled the impotence he felt at his inability to change what had happened. Sometimes the anger rose too high to be contained by alcohol though, and that was when he lashed out at the nearest thing to him. This was one of those times, when he needed to hurt and be hurt just to know he was alive.

"I'm not fucking playing."

He snarled as she grabbed at the back of his neck, bowing his head to claim her mouth once more in a punishing kiss, full of hate and desire in equal measures. His stomach muscles clenched as he felt her hand there, and he growled deep in his throat, releasing her mouth with a last bite at her bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood excited him further as he bit at her throat, sucking greedily, hands on her hips as she pulled him towards her.

He felt her hesitate momentarily, and braced himself to hold her if she tried to fight him off. He wasn't backing down now, not when she had asked for it for so long. But she wasn't stopping, instead he lifted his arms for her to rip off his jacket and shirt, surprised that she wasn't trying to stop him. Impressed in fact, surprised and impressed that she actually seemed to mean what she said. For a minute he was at a loss, having expected to have to fight her a part of him now worried that she would be like all the others and he wouldn't be able to deliver. She was watching him, studying his face, and he stared back into her eyes, some connection stunning him for a split second into inaction.

"Fuck... come on Lake. Do something!"

That snapped him out of it, and he frowned, the anger back and directed at Thrace. He grabbed at her jacket, forcing it off over her arms, then ripped her vest in his hurry to get it off, throwing it on the floor to join his own. Glancing over his shoulder towards the bed he decided against it, instead clawing at her belt and buttons, shoving her pants down to her thighs before grabbing one arm and turning her away from him. He didn't want her to look at him, he didn't want her to see what was in his eyes, so he pushed her up against the door, her face pressed against the worn wood as he freed himself from his pants. With one surprisingly strong forearm he held her still, nails digging roughly into the pale flesh of one shoulder, arm across the back of her neck. With the other hand he held his swollen cock, pressing it down against the cleft of her backside before shoving inside her roughly.

[Bogwoppit]

"No... No my Lord, I'm only seventeen. Eighteen this week. I've not even had a uhm uhm ... A lover."

Ooh... too much information. DJ gulped audibly as he stared at her. First crying, now confidences... He didn't quite know how to answer that, although the thought of such perfect innocence sitting beside him on a very big bed and he only clad in a sheet did strike him with a sense of irony. If he was West no doubt her situation would have already been remedied by now, but he wasn't, even though he wouldn't be averse to the idea...

His blue eyes studied her as she hid behind her hand, sliding down over her lithe figure even as he deliberately kept his head still so that she wouldn't be aware of his perusal. He was surprised at her imparting this intimate knowledge to him, but then perhaps she had taken his question seriously. He hadn't really meant it, but as usual around women he had opened his mouth before clicking his brain into gear. Usually they took offense at whatever it was he said... this one didn't seem to have done...

"Why wuold you think I was pregnant? Wh... Do I look pregnant? Is it possible to be pregnant without knowing a man where you come from?"

Oh. So maybe she had.

DJ stared up at her worriedly as she stood and almost fell back down. Drunk then if not pregnant? Maybe, but not very likely judging by her sweet innocent demeanor. Just clumsy then... yes, that had to be it. He smiled slightly at the thought of such a pretty girl being clumsy, and a rare protective instinct came over him all of a sudden, jolting him.

As he looked at her hands running over her flat stomach he realised she was still waiting for a reply.

"No! I mean... no... you don't look pregnant, and no, you erm... can't get pregnant without erm... you know..." he shrugged uncomfortably. "Oh Christ..."

He cleared his throat and frowned down at his feet for a minute trying to clear his head. Looking back up at her, still clutching the sheet to his groin, he smiled.

"Look, shall we start again?" he asked, unusually pleasantly for him, but only because he was starving and wanted her to let him eat his breakfast. "My name's DJ, and you're Mari..."

He glanced once again at the tray on the side table, his mouth watering.

"... and that breakfast looks delicious. Can you erm...?"

He glanced down at himself, then back up at her expectantly before nodding towards his pile of clothes. What he meant was for her to go away so that he could get dressed; what he hadn't realised when she was stuttering earlier was that she was supposed to help him dress...