[Imladris]

Jynne buttoned his lips and mimiced to his friend who would never betray him (also known as his mind): In light of recent events...if I hadn't done it then they would have taken Hilde (not that she deserved to be rescued) but all that our beloved captain can say is that I shouldn't have done it. Gratitude is not something that should be viewed lightly...It's time to bring Jarlyn a little of a drink...

Jynne slipped into the filthy kitchen and rummaged about for a goblet, which he filled with red wine. Fishing a slim vial from his belt, he tipped a few drops of clouded liquid and watched with satisfaction as it disappeared like mist into a rose gloom.

Smiling thinly to himself, he swirled the goblet as he slunk towards Jarlyn's quarters. A man, Thomas if Jynee recalled correctly, was slouched against the door, eyeing a flickering rainbow. As Jynne slipped behind the manservant, Thomas eased himself in front of the door handle and stared at Jynne with a puppy dog insolence.

"What are you doing?" asked Jynne impatiently.

"Captain's orders, sir," he drawled.

"And why is that?" asked Jynne.

"He is suspectful of Jarlyn's illness --" he shut his mouth as if to keep the wayward words to fly away. He nodded solemnly.

"I see," said Jynne silkily. "Do tell him that I stopped by to be sure he was getting better."

With a brief nod, Jynne slipped to the decks below, and pushed a creaky door open. The elf-woman was huddled in a corner, her hair a veil over her dirt streaked face.

"Elf," said Jynne. "You wouldn't happen to know anything that would be of interest to us, would you?"

The elf straigtened and buttoned her lips, glaring at him. He was foolish to think that she would have betrayed her people.