Ghosts - Day 3

[Bogwoppit]

Eledhwen could hardly take in all that had happened to her over the past two days... Two Days! She had seen more strange sights in those short hours than in the rest of her entire life. Not that that was difficult - most of her life had been spent following in the shadow of the great Eomer in her own land of Rohan. The one time she could have had an adventure he had flatly refused that she go with them, forcing her to stay behind with the women while he took his troops away from the ailing Theoden. Eledhwen could do nothing but watch as the king grew weaker under the influence of the wizard, feeling helpless and without purpose.

When Middle-Earth was once more safe, or so they thought, when King Theoden was himself once again, when her father had gone with the Elves she had found a purpose, but now she felt it slipping away from her as other more important matters yet again arose. This time however she would not remain behind with the women. This time there was no Eomer to order her. He had not seen her leave. He did not know where she had gone. The love she felt for the captain of the Rohirrim was still with her, but she knew nothing could ever come of it. He would never see her as anything other than a child, and in any case she was far too wild for the likes of him. He would want a woman he could take care of, to protect and nurture, one whom would bear his children and take care of them at home while he was out defending his kingdom. Eledhwen could never be that woman. She would not be content to stay at home cooking, she would want to be by his side, riding against the Orc and whatever other creature threatened their existence.

Standing alone at the end of the long promontory in the cold glow of the false dawn, Eledhwen let her thoughts drift. The one thing that had always remained a constant in her life was her love for Eomer - his strength, his loyalty, his fierce temper and his sense of humor. Perhaps love was not the right word - perhaps hero-worship would better describe what she felt. But whatever it was, it was the one thing that had remained true through the betrayal of her father and the Elf witch, through the strange magic which almost destroyed Rohan, through the great battle that they had thought would save Middle-Earth.

Now as she thought of him though she found she was holding a vision in her head, not of the great Rohirrim prince, but of one taller, fairer, more other-worldly and yet stronger...

Haldir!

Fiercely she scowled, shaking her head to physically rid herself of this unwanted vision. Why would that... that PIG weasel his way into her head when she was thinking of Eomer? She hated Haldir... HATED him, like she hated all Elves. If she never set eyes on him again she would be happy.

But... he had worked some sort of Elf magic on her... and convinced her that she should throw in her lot with the strangers, to journey with them to retrieve the rings of power. She could have pretended, just to get to Valinor and hence to her father... but she knew in her heart that he had really managed to make her believe in the cause. And that merely served to make her hate him more. She knew it had to be magic, the same stinking evil magic that the witch had used on her father, the same magic that Sauron used... After all, what were Orcs but Elves who had turned bad? In Eledhwen's mind they were all the same - no better than Orcs.

[Pinkie]

Gypsy's dark eyes were distant as she looked over the large banquet table full of food that had been laid out for them this morning. Her tiny frame at the table full of food was actually rather funny - and her expression even more so. She had never been one to think that a leg of lamb was the best breakfast meal but the soldiers who had exemplified themselves in battle the day before were certainly of that opinion. Gypsy watched in mute fascination and then looked at her paltry bowl of porridge. She stirred it, feeling disatisfied in one sense, but knowing that she would never be able to down a whole chicken this early in the morning either. She would kill for a coffee though.
Her short, black hair was pulled back into a tiny, barely-there pony-tail, highlighting the line of her strong jaw, the narrow length of her neck and the fact that her ears stuck out a little more than they aught to. It was something she had always been a little self-conscious about.

Kawalsky stalked into the room and Gypsy was half-standing, about to call him over for company, but seeing the menacing scowl on his face made her sink back into her chair and muse over her porridge alone a little longer. She couldn't quite figure that guy out - he was more than intimidating and yet she was pretty damn sure he would not hurt a fly either. There was just something... feral about him that put her on edge. The beautiful blonde princess woman was there too, sitting close to the dais with her waiting woman, the dark haired chick who looked like she was used to people walking all over her. The blonde one though - she looked different somehow, her hair was pulled back in a beautifully long plait that hung down her back, swishing about her hips as she walked. The grey dress she wore should have looked plain and demure but somehow it looked raunchy and suggestive on those curves. Gypsy stared for a while before realising she was staring and then looked away, silghtly embarrassed, as the woman came towards her.

"Ah... hi." she said, tossing her head and looking up at Elendur. The princess, or whatever she was, looked down at her coldly but attempted a smile. Her slender hand dangled above the table top, her fingers twitching as if she would touch the wooden top but instead she pulled the hand away and tucked it inside the opposite sleeve, keeping it snug and warm.
"Good morning Gypsy Calvin." the woman said and Gypsy gave a grin that the woman knew her name. Awkwardly she scampered to her feet, feeling tomboyish and oafish in the presence of such a woman.
"Morning... ehm... your ... majesty?" she hazarded and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as the woman chimed a pretty little laugh.
"Elendur - you may call me Elendur, Gypsy Calvin." she said with such sweetness. Gypsy nodded her head and returned the courtesy -
"Call me Gypsy." she extended her hand to Elendur to shake and had to wait a rather long while before the woman delicately placed her cold fingers into her palm to shake.
"Gypsy - where is Joe West this morning?" the blonde asked, not beating around any bush to get to her point.
Gyspy's lips twitched to the side in amusement and she scratched at the back of her neck, ducking her head to hide the wry smile that threatened to insult the poor blonde who was obviously infatuated, already, with the Major. Ah he was a good looking man, undoubtedly, but far too much beef and brawn for Gypsy's taste. She cleared her throat and lifted her dark eyes to Elendur, answering her in a sombre tone.
"I have no idea. If he isn't here then he's probably in his room. Or running. I hear he runs alot." she said, picking up her bowl of porridge and taking a mouthful, smiling around it at the blonde.
Elendur seemed to accept this and merely smiled tightly and turned, wandering away looking rather forlorn to Gypsy who sat back down on the bench, hard, and looked at the bowl of porridge once more.

"Another one bites the dust - " she mused, chuckling to herself as she shook her head and put another mouthful of porridge in to join the other one. She chewed happily and looked up towards the door where there seemed to be a stir of activity.
The Elf was coming in and people parted to make way for him. Gypsy found herself staring along with all the others and only broke out of her staring when Mark came in behind him. Gypsy perked up immediately and waved her hand at him happily. She was aware of how her heart soared when she saw him, was well aware of how her eyes sparkled that little bit brighter to see him - but she could just put that down to finally seeing a familiar face.
Another mouthful of porridge and Gypsy grinned up at him impishly, pushing down all the cosy memories of the night before. It seemed she was doing that frequently of a morning lately.

"Leg of lamb?" she asked, gesturing towards the banquet table. No matter how hard she tried, she till found herself feeling just a tiny bit gooey at the thought of his warm face brightening when he had spoken of his daughter.

[Pinkie]

Mari sat on the very edge of her bed, her freshly washed hair plaited and twisted around into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, her simple black dress hung loose on her small frame but it was her expression that seemed out of place. There was a look of pensive thought about her features and she was savagely chewing at the edge of her thumb whilst staring into space. One of her feet lay along it's side on the gruond, her other foot resting atop it giving her knees an awkward appearance but there was nothing to note this in her expression. She was miles away.
Over and over the scene played in her mind and over and over she thought of different, better ways to have handled it. She felt childish and silly this morning when she should have been feeling more like a woman than she had ever felt before. DJ had ... touched her, he had kissed her and caressed her and ... Mari felt her cheeks flush and she lifted her hand to her forehead and rolled her large, brown eyes.

"Silly girl." she muttered, rising to her feet and brushing a hand back to fix hairs which had not become displaced at all. She smoothed her skirts which were not rucked and tugged at her collar which was not crooked. Sighing, the girl turned to look at her little bed which was unslept in. Anyone seeing it would have assumed that she had gone through with what she had intended on doing when going to DJ the night before. But she had .. she had gotten so far and... the memory flickered again.
His hand between her legs had brought about such a feeling as she had never experienced before, his hot breath urging her to touch him and the strength of his body bearing down on top of her. It had been magnificent, magical, it had been perfect. He had been the perfect one for her but she had rejected him out of a wayward fear of disappointing him, in not being able to please him.
So at his sensual demand that she touch him, Mari had... and she had been so overwhelmed with the whole experience that she bolted. Literally. Her hand had caressed the stiffness of his manhood for but a moment and she had fumbled away from him, scampering beneath his strong arms and pulling her clothes to right as she went, backing out the door calling back pleas for forgiveness, begging for his understanding even as her own body, hot from his touch, cried out to return to him, return to the gift that he offered her.

"Silly, stupid girl." Mari chastised herself again and fixed her neat hair once more, before tsking and throwing up her hands. She had to get to work - that would be hard. She was to wait on the breakfast banquet for the warriors and well, she knew from first hand experience that DJ was a warrior and so he would be there. The great white tree of Gondor was emblazoned on her apron, the roots about her hips and the branches spreading out beautifully across her narrow chest - it caught the sunlight as she stepped outside of her room and paused. Oh but she would give anything to just hide in her room for the day!
Resolute, plucking courage out of thin air, the girl held her head high and headed for the banquet hall, wondering if she would ever be able to meet DJ's eye again.

[Pinkie]

The proud set of her chin was what made Haldir smile as he watched her from his silent position beneath the great branches of a wilting Lebethron. The sky was brightening around her, accentuating the rather boyish curves of her frame and she stood proud. It was a long time now since she had walked out here, straight past him, and had stood there looking out over the land as if it were hers. Haldir had thought to leave her to her thoughts by slipping away unseen, but instead he had remained, observing this fickle little human with eyes that were as unreadable as the bottom of the sea. The forest clothing he had donned this morning suited him. The soft, deer skin trousers were tucked into knee-high boots of numerous shades of brown, looking as if they were made of leaves. His tunic beneath was a double for the green undergrowth of any forest and the doublet over that was but darker hues of the tunic. The leather baldric that crossed from his shoulder to waist was tight against his body, but immensely comfortable.
He was ready for the path that lay ahead- the one that would take them all away from their homes for a long, long time. The one that would lead all of them through danger, and lead some even to death.

This capricious female would think him cold-hearted, no... Haldir smiled a secret smile and lowered his head, breathing the barest hint of a laugh into the morning air as he did so. No, the whimsical beauty would not think him cold-hearted... she wuold be confirmed in her pre-conceived notions of his cold-heartedness, and what's more, she would no doubt accuse him of some plot against humanity for being accepting of the death of those who would come with him on this mission. Her mercurial mind was incapable of accepting that the greater good needed to be served, and that in serving the greater good there must be sacrifices.

Strange that he found himself hoping that she would not be one of the ones to be sacrificed on this mission. Strange that he cared at all that she lived through it and saw that he was not the callous, in-human, unfeeling creature that she currently did. Haldir lifted his head, the blonde hair that was held back from his face caught in the breeze and stirred the leaves of the Lebethron tree to falling. His intense eyes followed the track of one of them and reached out his hand to catch it. It was golden, the veins brown and shimmering in his palm. The Elf stood and silently walked over towards Eledhwen, standing a little behind her and to one side. He looked sideways at her and took a deep breath, turning his eyes to the horizon and exhaling loud enough that she would be alerted to his presence.

"Have you changed your mind yet, shield-maiden?" he asked her in a voice that was lilting and soothing. Though he could not help the slight hint of amusement in it either, the way his lips turned upwards at the edges. His addressing her would send her into yet another tizzy, he was sure. But she had to understand the whole of it and not just her tiny part in it. He had told her as much the night before.

[Pinkie]

Thrace ached all over. There were muscles that she had not known could hurt that ached. Her lips felt bruised as she sucked Lake's bottom lip between her teeth, nipping gently. Only because she was too tired to do it with anything other than gentleness. It was her body that created a shadow over his, her strong hands placed on either side of the pillow, her knees on either side of his hips and her blonde hair tipped forward, tickling across his neck and chest as she kissed lower and lower again. How many times had they fucked? God - she had lost count. It had been one after the other earlier in the night but they had become tired adn slept - only to wake a short time later and screw all over again. In every sense of the word, Thrace was spent.
Hazel eyes opened lazily, a sultry smile on her lips as she spread her knees further, lowering her hips to his with intent. But her lazy hazel eyes caught sight of the wristwatch on her arm and she saw that it was no longer night but coming into morning.

"Fuck!" she growled, throwing herself off of Lake as if it were of no consequence that she had been about to fuck him but a moment ago. Tucking her hair behind her ear, the blonde looked about the floor for her underwear and found them balled up by teh foot of the bed. She grabbed them and pulled them up as she wandered across to the other side of the room looking for her bra. "It's almost 530 Lake - we gotta be with West for 0600." the woman commented, leaving her unzipped pants open as she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her bra. She looked over her shoulder at the weary Captain she had spent the night shagging and gave him a wicked smile, looking along the length of his lean body and pursing her lips.

"You're a fucking mess Nathan Lake." she laughed, leaning forward to tie up her boots. Once that was done she sat there, looking around, left to right to find her t-shirt. It was only when she looked back at the wiry frame of Lake that she saw the black vest strap sticking out frmo under his ribs. Tilting her head, the woman turned onto her knees and crawled towards him. Ah she knew that she would regret the whole night in time, but right now she just felt replete. For the first time in months, for the first time since she and Mark had split up, she finally felt like she had gotten what she truly wanted - a good, hard fuck. There was no emotional attachment to the man who had provided it, it was Nathan fucking Lake after all. Before she got too far, the blonde reached back for his cigarettes and lit one, holding it in between her sultry lips as she crawled towards him. She blew a small amount of smoke at his face around the cigarette in her lips still, and grinned at him wickedly.

"You're on my shirt." she told him.

[Bogwoppit]

Mark was extraordinarily nervous when he eventually dragged himself from sleep at the shrill of his alarm. He had spent most of the night awake, alternately lying on his back staring at the ceiling in the flickering firelight, or pacing the cold floor, bare feet silent on the smooth worn boards. When he finally fell asleep it was to be woken just an hour later, and now he felt exhausted.

After splashing cold water on his face he didn't feel any better, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he made his way down to the great hall. Not that he thought he would be able to stomach anything to eat. He was sick with nerves about what this mission would bring. He wasn't a soldier, he was a scientist. He wasn't used to being out in the field, in danger, facing certain death.

He was no wimp of course, but he knew his limitations. He could handle a gun, just. He had done basic hand-to-hand combat as per Stargate Command regulations, but he dreaded ever having to actually kill a person. Orcs... while not exactly people, were alive. He didn't relish the thought of a repeat of yesterday or worse.

Entering the breakfast hall he looked round for a friendly face - the place looked to be filled up with big hulking bearded warriors, all looking completely at ease even though the city could be attacked again at any moment. His eyes lit upon Gypsy sitting by herself at a long table, and he moved to join her.

"Leg of lamb?"

Mark pulled a face as he glanced in the direction she gestured, and grinned ruefully as he sat down.

"God no thanks," he replied, laughing self-consciously. "Couldn't stomach a thing! I'd kill for a coffee though..."

As he unconsciously echoed aloud her own earlier thoughts, he glanced sideways at her, wondering how she managed to look so cheerful at this unearthly hour. He felt like death himself, and knew he must look it too.

"You sleep ok?" he asked wonderingly.

Of course, she was a soldier, trained for exactly this kind of situation. It still surprised him to think of it though, when she was so... cute.

Some of the long midnight hours had been spent thinking about Katee of course, but for some of the night he had gone over the conversations he had had with Gypsy. He still couldn't get over the fact that she was married, and hadn't yet acknowledged the small twinge of disappointment he felt when she told him.

"So... today we go find these... Rings of Power hey?" he asked, pouring himself a jug of ordinary water. "That sounds like... fun..."

He spoke to cover his nervousness, and because this morning for some reason he felt a little unsure of his relationship with the young woman. Last night, and all the time before, he hadn't known she was married... Now he did. That shouldn't make a difference, there was nothing going on between them, but somehow it mattered. He felt a little awkward.

((Ooc: Can't remember if they discussed going to find the rings or not, but let's just say they did ))

[Bogwoppit]

Lake barely stirred when she straddled his narrow hips. For the first time in a very long time he had slept the sleep of the dead. No nightmares to wake him, no shakes to still nor screams to quiet. He had grown accustomed to keeping his night terrors to himself, suffering in absolute silence, because of the usually close proximity of team mates while out on a mission. They didn't need to know how much it still affected him.

But last night... last night there had been no nightmares, no flashbacks. The few hours she had allowed him to sleep had been gloriously dream-free.

He wondered about that briefly as he watched her through half open eyes, reaching automatically for a cigerette and lighting it still half asleep. He tossed the packet back on the beside table without offering her one, and lay shamelessly naked beneath a tangled sheet which did nothing to cover his modestly, morning glory slumping disheartened against his groin when it realised it wasn't about to get any more action.

That was another thing... he hadn't had a morning erection in years, and to get one now, when he had thought himself utterly spent, was nothing short of a miracle. What the fuck had this woman done to him?

"It's almost 530 Lake - we gotta be with West for 0600."

"Mm," he grunted shortly, drawing a deep breath of nicotine and letting the smoke out through pursed lips.

He still wasn't quite sure what had happened last night... and why the fuck she was still here this morning... The whole thing was downright fucking weird. But he wasn't about to start analyzing it. More important things to think about today than if he was ever likely to get a repeat performance. Because if he did stop to think about it... he wouldn't mind that at all.

"You're a fucking mess Nathan Lake. You're on my shirt."

He frowned at the sight of her taking one of his smokes, squinting up at her with his head on one side. Cigerettes were probably likely to become a precious commodity pretty bloody soon in this place. Still, she had fucked him stupid and left him nightmare-less. He could probably spare her one fag.

"Whereas you are the definition of gorgeousness," he grunted sarcastically in reply, lifting one shoulder up lethargically for her to pull her shirt out from beneath him.

Sarcastic he may have sounded, but that was only to hide the fact that he fancied the arse off her again. Her blonde hair was a mess, there were black shadows under her eyes, but she looked sexy as hell sitting there with that cigerette hanging from her bruised bottom lip... Bruised because of him, same as she no doubt would have bruises in plenty of other places... because of him.

He smirked to himself, finished his cigerette, and sat up, searching for his own clothes. Maybe today with any luck he'd get an Orc arrow in his gut and end his misery... funny that the thought of dying didn't make him quite so hopeful as it had yesterday.

[Bogwoppit]

Even though he made sure she knew of his presence, Eledhwen was so deep in thought that she started visibly when she heard his breathing beside her. Automatically reaching for the knife she had tucked into the waistband of her suede trousers, she swung to face him, nostrils flaring as she tried to calm her erratic breathing and thudding heartbeat.

"Have you changed your mind yet, shield-maiden?"

Oh she could hear the sneering amusement in his voice which insidiously washed over her - the voice of an Elf which he would use to his advantage whenever the need arose, to talk his way out of a fight, to convince a council of the sensibility of his ideas, to lull a maiden into a false sense of security while he seduced her...

The thought of being seduced by one such as he set her heart thumping in her narrow chest once more, and she was angered by her ridiculous mind which insisted on putting these unwanted and abhorrent thoughts to her. She was not fooled by those smooth, liquid-gold tones which could charm the birds from the trees. No doubt he would think it was his doing that she had realised the importance of this journey they must make. Of course it was not! Did he think her so vapid and pathetic that she could not think for herself?!

"I do not see that it is any business of yours!" she retorted, snatching her hand away from her knife in the realisation that even if she tried to kill him where he stood, she would not succeed.

That he was taller, stronger, and far more powerful than she was obvious, and as yet she had been unable to surprise him in anything she did. Not only that, but she was finally beginning to see his importance in what was to come. Although she would die rather than admit it to him, she knew that as the last Elf in Middle-Earth he was needed... for now. She lifted her chin once more in defiance as she deliberately turned from him to gaze out at the plains. She refused to notice how warrior-like he looked in the clothing he wore with such elegance - the green of the tunic made his blue eyes swirl with hues of the forest and of the sea - or the way the rising sun gilded his hair from silver to a glowing gold, the way it lit upon his skin turning it almost translucent, the way the proud set of his shoulders made him seem even taller, larger than life... noble...

She did not notice any of this whatsoever of course.

"I know that the fate of Rohan, and of all Middle-Earth, lies in the hands of those who seek the Rings," she stated, knowing that to continue to antagonise him would lessen her chances of going. "And I know that those who would journey to find them need all the help they can get. I know the lands between here and that... 'Stargate' of theirs better than anyone. I can also track better than any man... or Elf... alive."

She spoke pointedly this last, glancing sideways at him briefly before going on, and wishing she hadn't. Those cerulean eyes of his were as hypnotic as ever, be they cold or amused. She did not know which she prefered... at least when they were cold she knew that he hated her as much as she hated him. She was comfortable with that. Amused, she was even more unsure of his thoughts, and she did not wish to be reminded that Elves could be... 'human' too. Not that what he might be thinking concerned her in the slightest of course... only in as much as whether or not he would allow her to travel with them. She decided then and there that she would not be left behind with the women-folk this time, not again.

"I can find Aragorn," she went on hurriedly, forcing her gaze away from his as a plan formed in her mind.

She would go with them until they parted company at the gate, and then she would find some excuse to go through it to Valinor. She turned to deliberately meet his gaze once more, holding her head up high and praying that while he was undoubtedly good at reading people's intentions, he could not actually read minds.

"I will find the sword and bring it back, even if we cannot persuade Aragorn to return to wield it."

[Pinkie]

Faramir placed a hand against his wounded side as he trotted up the stairs towards the promonotory that the guard had told him the Elf was last seen. His mind was awash with what he had been told and not for the first time did he wish, long for the counsel of Mithrandir. He did not doubt Haldir's intentions, he did not doubt that what had been set down was what needed to be done but that was only what his head told him. His heart cried out at the suggestion that they would seek, seek Aragorn. The Gondorian noble knew who they would find in his shadow and the shame of it nearly choked him. Surely there was another way - surely they did not need to find Aragorn or the Sword. Surely there was another way...!

As the auburn-haired male stepped out into the morning sunshine he saw the imposing figure of the Elf and Eledhwen. Damn... he had hoped to get him alone. Pausing in the stairwell the young noble bit the edge of his lip and then shook his head, turning away and heading back down the winding staircase. This was something he needed to speak with the Elf privately. Eledhwen was the worst to know of what it was that troubled Faramir for she would surely favour the shield-maiden, Eowyn. The thought of his darling wife made Faramir flinch in pain and he slowed his steps, pausing briefly to shut his eyes and hold back the emotional rage that he felt for what had come between them. He blamed Aragorn not one ounce - nor did he find himself blaming Eowyn either. That did not mean that he would not wither from facing the truth of his marriage though.

Making his way back downstairs, Faramir made his way to Boromir's room, knocking lightly against the wood. He tipped his head forward and shut eyes.

"Boromir - brother, can I talk to you?" he asked gently, aware that it would not be unusual for his older brother to have a woman behind the closed door with him. Such frivolous relations with women was something Faramir could not possibly fathom. Faramir's lusts followed his heart, not the other way around.

[Bogwoppit]

Stupid stupid stupid bastard!

Why did he always fuck things up? Why could just for once something go bloody right for him?

What had DJ done wrong? He had absolutely no idea, but whatever it was he was angry as hell about it. Not at Mari, although when she first ran out on him his confusion had turned to anger against her. But not now. Now he was angry at himself for being so bloody useless. No matter what he did he could never get it right. If he allowed his natural shyness and sensitivity to show through women made fun of him, so he generally covered his feelings with arrogance, even belligerence, to mask his unsurety. This time... this one time when he had felt actually in control, strong and manly and... and it still hadn't bloody well worked!

Obviously he was just crap at relationships.

The thing was... he felt more ashamed than angry. He had taken advantage of a young... a very young girl while she felt beholden to him. There was bound to be some sort of rule against that in Stargate regulations. But West seduced alien women all the time... why was what he did so different?

By the time the first rays of sunlight had begun to penetrate his cold room DJ was a bag of nerves. He wasn't about to sit here and face Mari when and if she brought him his breakfast. Last night, when she had run out on him, he had pulled on his trousers and boots to go after her before realising that he would never find her in this maze of passages, and even if he did, what then? He wouldn't have a clue what to say to her. His hero status was well and truly out the window by now, and so he left her to go.

Now he pulled on his vest, splashed cold water on his face, and slid from the room silently, looking left and right as he moved towards the great hall, praying he wouldn't see Mari, or even worse, her father out to avenge his daughter's fall from grace.

As he entered the hall, thankfully without incident, he let his guard down, and looked round for any of the rest of his team. Seeing Calvin and Mark Llewelyn sitting across the crowded room he began to make his way towards them, squeezing past Gondorian soldiers and tables laden with every conceivable type of meat. Eyes fixed on his destination, he didn't notice the serving girl until he had barged into her, knocking her tray flying.

"Oh! Sorry I..." began, catching her and looking down apologetically... straight into the huge brown eyes of the very person he was trying to avoid. "Oh shit..."

He stared wordlessly at her for what seemed like forever, then dropped his gaze to the floor, dropping his grip on her arms where he had caught her. As his natural defence system kicked in, his face clouded over and became a blank mask of indifference, hiding the confusion he felt at seeing her again.

"Watch where you're going will you?" he said, instead of the 'I'm really sorry what did I do wrong?' that formed briefly in his mind.

Without the slightest hint of recognition he marched away from her, back ramrod straight and mask firmly in place, but his heart was thudding and his mind was in turmoil as he sank into the seat beside Gypsy.

"Hi," he spoke tersely, not meeting either person's eyes.

Unable to think straight, he leaned forward to grab a leg of some sort of bird meat and ripped a chunk off it, chewing frantically as he gazed fixedly at the table.

Stupid stupid bastard...

[Pinkie]

Gypsy felt uncommonly happy with herself when Mark came over to sit with her. The familiarity between them over the past week or so was becoming quite the focus for the young woman. It was effortless to be herself around Mark and she liked to think that he enjoyed her company as much as she did. Though... though she was becoming quite aware of the fact that it was constantly she who sought him out. Not the reverse. But then again - the age gap between them was something that maybe Mark felt like he would be encroaching on her? Or maybe because he had so mcuh on his mind with Thrace being around and his little girl being back home waiting for him? God - what must he have thought when they got through and realised they could not simply gate back?
For teh first time the young woman looked at Mark in awe for something other than his intelligence.
If it was her and she had a little child waiting back on earth and they were not able to simply go back she would ... she would be inconsolable!

Mark: "God no thanks, Couldn't stomach a thing! I'd kill for a coffee though... You sleep ok? So... today we go find these... Rings of Power hey? That sounds like... fun..."

Gypsy could think of no reason why Mark would feel awkward so she failed to realise that he was. When he declined the leg of lamb she gave him a sweet grin, humming contentedly in agreeance of his idea of coffee. Her eyes shut in mute pleasure at the mere thought and she nudged his shoulder gently with hers as she gave a brief laugh.
It didn't sit well with the girl that Mark knew that she was married. It would leave the door open for them to converse at a later time about her husband - but for the time being, with her husband a galaxy or so away she was able to pretend that she was as carefree and gypsy-like as she wanted to be.
Taking a gobful of porridge, Gypsy nodded enthusastically at Mark's question of sleeping -

"Like a baby." she spoke out of the corner of her mouth, chewing her porridge like a good soldier who is always aware that her next meal might not be for many days. It was something that someone could not fault in the pixie - she had an appetite equal to none. Mention of the rings of power made her snort and roll her eyes. She swallowed the mouthful of porridge and scraped the last few oats from the bowl, licking the spoon before turning to Mark, flipping her foot over the opposite side of the bench as she twisted around to face him properly, elbow on the table.
Seeing Mark's rather pensive expression, noting the tightness about his eys and how he was looking around a little nervously gave Gypsy an accurate vision of how he felt, but not why he felt it.

"You feeling a bit daunted by it all huh?" she grinned, sitting up and reaching across his upper body for the jug of water. She looked into it, took a sniff and then poured herself a glass too. "I guess it can only be expected - what with yuo being the intelligent one amongst us and all." Gypsy quipped. "Me? I've got more guts than brains." as she spoke her brown eyes turned to look at DJ who was coming towards their table. Gypsy liked DJ - kind of. She found him a bit brusque at times, arrogant most times, and aloof all the time. She narrowed her eyes as he bumped into a serving girl and frowned at her like she was the devil himself. Gyspy cocked an eyebrow and nudged Mark, drawing his attention to the scene.

DJ: Hi,

The junior airman looked past Mark at DJ who sat on his far side. She gave him a slight smile but wasn't sure he deserved it at all. He was in bad form.

"Rough night?" she asked, having no idea how close to the bone she cut with her two little words. As she asked the question she was looking away from the girl that DJ had just snapped at. She was standing with her head bowed, tears starting to run down her cheeks. She whirled and went to leave the room Gypsy glanced over at the movement but the girl had her back to them at this stage so Gypsy merely looked back at DJ.

[Pinkie]

Lake: "Whereas you are the definition of gorgeousness,"

Thrace gave a throaty chuckle at his cheek and pulled the vest out from under him. As she pulled it on over her head she could catch the scent of him on it, the heat of him - he must have slept on it most of the night. At some stage throughout the night he had rolled onto his back and she had been on top ever since. The cheeky fucker seemed more than content to lay back and be screwed. The blonde ran her hand down the front of the vest, tight against her skin and looked down at the tear along the seam on the right side where Lake had torn it during their previous encounter. Last night's interlude had been much, much more preferable for her - it left her feeling good. Left her feeling replete. Which was hard for Thrace to feel at all - everything in her life always seemed to lack that edge that could hold her. Mark had not had the edge to hold her for long. Not that whatever this was with Lake was ever going to turn into something like what she had with Mark! HA! The mere thought of it made Thrace's stomach do a nervous, anxious flip.

Rising to her feet, Thrace tucked her vest into the trousers, buttoned, zipped and stomped her feet in her boots before turning to Lake and giving him the finger.

"I know sarcasm when I hear it shit-head." she told him though there was no malice in her tone, merely amused.
Admittedly there was something infinitely sexual about the way he sat there, looking for his clothes, his face crumpled in a morning frown, the cigarette hanging on the edge of his lip. Thrace took a moment to inhale her own cigarette's noxious fumes and held them whilst looking over Lake critically. There was not a pick on him. He was not rake thin but he was wiry, lean and mean. The light smattering of hair across his chest was barely visible but she knew that it was there because her lips had been pressed against that hair at one stage during the night. When he got to his feet it somehow changed the atmosphere in teh room. The blonde shook her head and grinned at him.
Slinging her jacket on, she stubbed otu the cigarette, half-smoked, and popped it into the top pocket of her jacket. Still with a devilish, youthful, teasing smile she clicked her heels together and shot off the sharpest, most impressive salute that even West might ever have seen from her. Her hazel eyes sparkled with vitality and life as she looked at the Captain.

"Permission to leave, Captain?" she asked, snickering as her hand fell frmo her forehead and she stepped across the distance between them. Draping her arms around his neck and pressing her tight, warm body against his still bare chest, Thrace kissed him deeply but quickly, speaking as she withdrew -
"That was an itch most definitely scratched. The pleasure's all yours. Catch ya later." the Lieutenant mocked, turning from him and swaying towards the door to be on her way. As far as she was concerned this was the end of their 'relationship'. Both of them had gotten what they wanted and there was no more to it than that. So she thought. It wasn't like he was her type or that she would be thinking of him and what they got up to or anything. Just as she reached teh door the woman remembered that in coming to Lake's room she had stood-up the prince-guy, Boromir. No doubt Lake would find that somehow significant that she had come here to fuck him instead of the, admittedly cuter, stronger, hotter, saner, fitter noble.

[Bogwoppit]

"Boromir - brother, can I talk to you?"

The sound of his brother's voice on the other side of the door drew Boromir from his reverie. He had not slept well, frustrated and annoyed that things had not gone his way the night before. That he had allowed the alien woman to get under his skin in this way made him angry. Never before had he waited for one particular female to bed, at the expense of other, possibly more willing partners.

He had waited for her for over an hour, knowing, or thinking, that she would knock on his door. She was not the sort to wait for a written invitation, and he knew she wanted him. So where was she? Why had she not arrived? Of course... after the hour he could have gone looking for other company - perhaps the little servant girl, Eonan, might have had time to think about the chance she had passed up the night before. But he found himself unwilling to settle for anything less than the blonde, tough, unfeminine soldier from another world.

"Come in Faramir," he called wearily, turning from the window to face the door, hands behind his back in classic commander pose.

He would not allow his brother to see how annoyed he was. Faramir looked to him for guidance, and today of all days, when they were to set out to find the man with whom his wife had run away, Boromir had to be a leader. He would not allow personal feelings to get in the way of this mission.

"What is it brother?" he asked, offering the younger man a smile. "It will soon be time to meet Haldir."

He did not mean it to sound uncaring, but today he could do without having to listen to his brother's tales of woe and heartache. He loved Faramir of course, but sometimes he just wished the man would find some easy wench to bed and have done with it. Seeing him moping around made Boromir all the more aware of the sense in his own choice to remain unaffected by feminine wiles.

He was eager to be gone, to set off on the mission which might well save Gondor, to find Aragorn, and with any luck the witch Eowyn. Then he could give her a piece of his mind for what she had done to his brother.

[Pinkie]

Power and authority were second nature to the Elf. It was not that he expected people to defer to him due to his supernatural qualities - it was merely what people did. Humans were fickle, they were there for the blink of an eye and gone again but despite that there was something in them that recognised wisdom, that could sense power. Eledhwen was not immune to that and Haldir knew it. His golden voice rang gentle in the early morning, it was part of the warm breeze, it was one with the swirling leaves about their feet - it personified the easy, beautiful morning. That was easy for Haldir - to be one with the world that surrounded him. He had been on this soil for longer than he cared to recall, he had been here longer than Eledhwen and her parents, and even before them.

What the Elf could not account for was why he wished the fiesty, snapping little girl come along at all. It was within his authority to deny her the right to come with them. Oh where they went and what they did was to the benefit of all Middle Earth and being so it entitled anyone to come along... in theory. In reality the decision was his with the wise input from the lords of Gondor.

She fairly prickled when he spoke and Haldir had to keep from smiling. He dipped his head a fraction, blonde hair falling forward against his pointed ears which were ready to hear her answer fairly. The girl was so easy to decipher, he could hear her heartbeat and could feel the surge of blood through her veins at his presence. Her anger could consume her, it would make her ugly - but right now, when it was tempered with her current confusion, it merely made her appear stronger, more stubborn - and quite pretty as it suffused her pale cheeks and stiffened her slender neck.

Eledhwen: "I do not see that it is any business of yours! I know that the fate of Rohan, and of all Middle-Earth, lies in the hands of those who seek the Rings, And I know that those who would journey to find them need all the help they can get. I know the lands between here and that... 'Stargate' of theirs better than anyone. I can also track better than any man... or Elf... alive."

Though she claimed it was none of his business she still put forward a fair argument to be included on one of the teams going forth. Haldir blinked, losing some of his humour at the situation when she spoke of fate. His stormy blue eyes lifted and looked beyond her wavy dark hair towards the imposing, black mountains in the East. In that moment he was the perfect picture of Elf majesty - his shoulders broad and straight, the line of his pale jaw defined starkly against the dark green material of his clothing. As she continued, stating she knew the lands between here and there, it took alot of effort to keep his temper down for she spoke as if she was the only one who knew the lands, that he, an Elf who has lived centuries longer than she, would not know the lands, and better than she! Haldir was reminded, by her arrogance and presumptions, why he had such an intolerance for human affairs.

Fickle! he thought angrily, looking back at her just as she cast him a sideways glance. Her heart stammered a moment and he almost, almost, grinned in dark amusement.

Eledhwen: "I can find Aragorn, I will find the sword and bring it back, even if we cannot persuade Aragorn to return to wield it."

Brave little woman... she turned to look at him, meeting his ethereal gaze bravely though Haldir could guess how hard it was for her to do so. He looked at her calmly, well adept at hiding his emotions even if she was not. The affirmative statement that she could find Aragorn was impressive and Haldir would hold her to it - the rest though... ?

"No." he said calmly, without emotion, after a long while of merely looking back at her proud face uplifted to his. He lifted his chin a fraction and tensed his jaw, the muscles visibly tightening in his cheek. "You will not seek Aragorn or the sword." the Elf told her simply, blinking with infinite tranquility, as if he did not know his words would not only enrage her, but crush her also. It was not deliberate that he did not explain his dismissal of her for the mission - it was quite intentional. He wanted to see how passionate she was, he wanted to see the human emotion writhe through her and bubble to the surface in righteous fury and he braced himself for it.
Let her rant, let her rage - Haldir vaguely aware of how he anticipated her reaction, how he waited for it with an eagerness that he aught not to really. He provoked her deliberately.

No. She would not go to seek the sword- Haldir intended to keep her under his eye and bring her to Valinor with him. He had others in mind to seek the sword - but such skills and abilities as Eledhwen possessed would not be useful in that undertaking. No - her abilities were best put to use in facing the Elves. For her own sake more than anything.

(ooc: oh he's a little shit isnt he?!))

[Pinkie]

It was easy so far.
People smiled at her and she curtsied. She brought empty plates away and replaced them with full plates - she brought cooling drinks away and brought warmer ones. The simplicity of the labour was soothing and soon Mari was quite content to go between the warriors with a wan smile on her pretty face, her eyes lowered, and let the rest of the morning wash over her. At least that was her intention. There were so many people pressed into the small room, big broad shouldered soldier, wise old men giving their wisdom freely and eagerly, young and old women waiting on their men - Mari figured she might not see DJ at all. And she resolved, even if she did, that she would not act like a foolish girl again.

Two thoughts warred with each other in her mind as she walked,silently in her slippered shoes, amongst the people.
One thought was that she would go to DJ and apologise to him personally, she would face him and tell him how truly sorry she was for disappointing him.
The other thought was that she would go to him silently and offer herself to him silently, and give him what she had intended on giving him the night before but which she had been too scared and foolish to.
The young woman chewed the edge of her lip as she meandered. A man crossed directly in front of her and she swirled to the side to avoid him, colliding, incidentally, with another man instead.

"Sor.." she began, looking up with sweet apology in her eyes, looking straight into the frowning features of DJ. Mari's heart leapt into her throat and her knees gave a nervous shudder. Immediately her shoulders hunched and her breath hitched, lips parted to offer the sincerest apologies, to nigh on beg his forgiveness. She felt such a fool for what she had done! Mari was innocent but she knew that there was a word for women who did what she had done to DJ last night - and it was not a pretty thing to be named!

DJ: "Oh! Sorry I... Oh shit... . Watch where you're going will you?"

Mari was shocked by his words, more shocke by the tone of them. She visibly flinched from the rebuke and all the color drained from her face. Despite knowing she shouldn't, Mari turned, looking at DJ as he stalked away from her. Her worst fear... that he would be angry with her, that he would hate her for what she had so selfishly done to him when he had risked his life for her. Mari's head swam and she stared pleadingly at DJ's back but he did not look around at all. The young woman hiccupped in sorrow, turning sharply away and staggering a step forward. She paused, blindly putting the jug she held onto the table next to her. She clutched her balled fist to her chest to try quell the pain of disappointment in herself and bowed her head, giving another sorrowful heaving sob before looking over her shoulder, tears standing out in her brown eyes, causing her vision to blur.

Without a word, Mari hitched up her skirts and trotted through the gathered men and women, whispering hoarse apologies to those she bumped, until she was outside the main banquetting hall and in a long, cool corridor. A great big sob shook he body but the tears did not fall. Mari blinked them back and looked to each side for somewhere to go. People approached from the right so she hurriedly went to the left, walking briskly, almost to the point of running.