[maikafanawen]

The Gondorian army rode on hoping to reach the village by dusk the next day, Eru-Willing.

* * *

Gita, dressed in a simple peasant chemise and over-laying skirt, worked her way around the assembled beds and cots littered in the Alphirion refuge with the village's wounded. She made busy with her hands crushing things given to her by the medics and dabbing foreheads with semi-sterile cloths. All the while her ears were open for any sign of militia movement or planning. Laurel was stirring around busily, speaking with people and sending them out again. Her face showed signs of anxiety and fatigue. Gita grinned, "Good."

Then the Swan Lady's granddaughter disappeared into a smaller room with Jesslyn, the prisoner's brother. Or rather, the prisoner who was retrieved. The king hadn't been too pleased with that. Gita smiled crudely as she rung out a linen sheet to hang out a window for drying. The wrath bestowed upon the guards who'd allowed Cartil's escape was truly barbarous and it had been quite a splendor to behold. The king sure had talent in the areas of torture and death.

"Excuse me, Iris?" said a young girl, no more than ten years old. Gita turned at the mention of her pseudonym, wiping away her smirk and looked passively down at the round pale face before her. "Yes dear?" The girl smiled. "I was wondering if you'd seen the Lady Laurel. She was going to bathe I think and I was bringing her fresh drying linens since we haven't any towels." Gita's eyes brightened at the opportunity and she smiled encouragingly at the little girl.

"Oh, I'll take them to her. You stay here and mind these sheets." The girl handed her the wicker basket of linens and began to hang up the remaining sheets. Gita ducked under the low-lying beams of the door and down the small hall to the bathing room. She knocked meekly on one of the doors, smoothed out a fold in her skirt, and pulled the hem of her cap down over her head a bit further to shade her eyes.

"I think it's open!" said Laurel's soft voice from within. Gita pushed the door ajar and smiled at the two ladies. "Fresh linens," she announced. "I'll put them over here." After setting them on the stool by the tub, she looked around for a reason to delay. Her eyes brightened with an idea. "May I take your clothes for washing and fetch you new ones? These are awfully soiled." The one called Jesslyn began to hesitate but Laurel gave her a soothing look.

"Yes, go ahead Iris." Gita smiled and began to gather up the clothes laboriously, folding them and placing them in the empty linens basket. She took as long as she could, but the two women just soaked silently, eyes closed in relaxation. Containing her disappointment, the amber-haired woman stood and left, but paused outside the door for a moment. Directing her hearing within, she waited for some sign that Laurel and Jesslyn were going to talk. Finally the former spoke.

"Jesslyn, I do understand why you feel the way you do. If I were in your boots, I would feel the same. You believe we cannot win...

"But we have come up with a sort of plan. There will be a meeting tomorrow to decide it exactly. We have the remaining Rohirrim, and the Swan House is emptied, its occupants in a cave away from harm. I plan on making a last stand for our Village and home.

"Jesslyn, I ask for your help. I ask for your brother's help as well. You have great courage, and that is what we need now." Gita bit her lip, straining to hear more.

"Iris?" The wild woman cursed under her breath and crept away from the door, silent as a wraith. Once she was out of ear shot, she steadied her quick and sprightly pace, reaching the medic with a questioned look. "Have you finished with the sheets?"

"I let Rachel take care of them. I brought towels, or, drying linens to Laurel and Jesslyn, and then I got their dirty clothes. Where might I wash these and get them new ones?" she asked. The medic directed her to a laundry party just out the far door.

A few minutes later, Gita returned with fresh clothes and went to set them in the bath room for Jesslyn and Laurel to change into when they'd finished washing. Then she was called off again for more tasks. The woman did these without any sign of complaint. It gave her time to think and strategize. She needed to know more about the meeting: when, where and who. It could be the key to Swan Wood's downfall. That thought brought a particularly nasty smile to her deep red lips and she crushed the flower stems vigorously, imagining the reward she'd get for delivering such precious information.

So busy with the idea of winning the king's merit and betraying the people of Swan Wood, Gita even forgot that somewhere nearby in the woods, just beyond the refuge, an elf with a heart full of hate for her lurked, waiting for the moment when he might catch a glimpse of her alone. His knife would be ready....

The sun had seemed as though it would never set on that arduous day of work and caring of the wounded. Extra cots and blankets (what little there was left) were brought out for the use of medics and their volunteers. Gita took her own and set it up in the large far room just beyond the baths where the majority of other female volunteers were lodged. She lay awake for a while, grasping onto the façade of an anxious villager, dreading the sleepless night when wild men might come again....