eighteenth jump;

[mathematically]

CHARACTERS: any and all
LOCATION: Gravity Couches and beyond
WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, or even some violence, and more than likely some implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: Another month, another jump, another round of new faces.
NOTES: Keeping up with the tradition and copy pasted like always from the last one 



You wake up in darkness.

There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Upon registering your level of consciousness, the gravity couch drains the fluid surrounding you and retracts the breathing apparatus; the doors in front of you open, and you're deposited on the floor of a stark, sterile medical bay.

You are not alone.
There are others who have come before you, others who are awakening beside you. Some may be familiar to you, perhaps even friends. Others have much less amiable plans. Some are merely alien and inexplicable, but there are always those who might mean you harm.

After you catch your breath and your vision returns, you notice a number on the inside of your forearm. Maybe it's a familiar number. Maybe it means something. Maybe it's just a number. But the number—completely unique to you—is a tattoo, and it does not come off.

If you enter the room adjacent to the medbay, you will find a small locker with your number on it, surrounded by rows upon rows of identical lockers. Inside, you will find a few of your personal items, a communications device, and a ship's uniform in your exact size. The comms device is fully powered and connects directly to the ship's network; it's your only means of communication beyond physical conversation. Upon turning the device on, a neutral, automated voice will say, "Please take the blue lift to the passenger quarters." Any other attempts at communicating with the rest of the network are met only with static.

This is your welcome party.

Comments

[inafadingcrown]

As you wish.

[She's astute enough to realize the implications here. It is something serious or else he would never invite her in. She seats herself with a false nonchalance and looks at him expectantly. She'll allow Thranduil the courtesy of deciding where and when to being, at least. She wasn't about to go on a fishing expedition.]

[elvenking]

[When she sits, he sits. He tries to keep his thoughts on-topic, but exhaustion has scattered them somewhat.]

Time exists here, from what we know, but it pays little heed to time in our own worlds. Two Bagginses there are here, and they are from different years altogether--Bilbo, from shortly before I knew him, and Frodo, from...

[He waves a hand to signal a general passage of years he can't come up with at the moment. Eyes still sharp despite sleep deprivation look searchingly at Galadriel.]

Frodo has It. Bilbo has It. Frodo is weary, and Bilbo knows not what it is. My son longs for the sea. I will protect him above everything--the pull of Oromë's call, the pull of the Ring, the Rings, I fear

[He knows she can read more than he wants her to, his disorganized mind bleeding information everywhere.]

I cannot.

[inafadingcrown]

I know when he is from and I know of his quest.

[There's more there, something she's not sharing, but she brushes past it. She doesn't need those sharp eyes looking at that.]

You would be a fool if you did not fear. [Only her tight control keeps her own fears from leaking out around the edges. She knows the pull of the Ring. She knows and fears it. Fears herself.]

Yet there is hope still. [Her eyes search his, looking for- what? For some reaction? A sign he is hearing her.] You will endure. Your son will endure. You must.

[elvenking]

You are right. There is nothing else possible. And I have endured much already. My people have endured much, since long before his birth. [This is hardly the most trying part of Thranduil's life, it just happens to be hitting a lot of the buttons created from past things he's lived through.] But I would never have him suffer. Being here makes him suffer. Seeing me like this makes him suffer. No sky or sun or wind. The trees and water have no voices. Trees? Ah--I mustn't forget to feed the birds.

[He looks apologetically at her.] Forgive me. I have not been able to sleep.

[Rubbing his eyes, continuing.]

Pirates! Pirates attacked us and were captured. We held them prisoner, but the captain--Ward--entered somehow and killed them all to keep them from answering our questions. All things you may say over the network can be seen and heard by Ward and Resnik. Only conversations held in person are private.

[inafadingcrown]

I know. We would protect them from all things if we could. [It's not something she'd normally do, but... she reaches out take his hand, a small gesture of comfort.]

I will be cautious. [She would have been anyway. She doesn't trust easily. Not with the important things, at least.] You should rest.

[elvenking]

[He jumps slightly at her touch, only because it was unexpected, but then relaxes and grasps her hand.]

I cannot rest. [Unbidden, the thoughts and memories arise from the last week. Too tired for words--images, really, of the inside of the brig, the minutes ticking by the way elves seldom notice. Trapped like a rat. Anything could have been done to him. The corsair prisoners had been murdered in that place. Helplessness is not something he reacts well to.]

In my dreams, there is one who comes to steal my memories. Twice now it has happened. I found him once and he escaped me and I fear his retribution. I should not burden you further, Lady. It is not yours.

[inafadingcrown]

[Her brow furrows.] As you wish. Yet I cannot help but feel concern. We have never been close, I know, but I do wish to see you well.

[elvenking]

But can you, Lady? Can even you guard my dreams?

[inafadingcrown]

You know I cannot. [She purses her lips. It is humbling, this place. Already it has reminded me of many things I cannot do.

[elvenking]

[He turns his wrist to show her his tattoo: 013-086.]

I have been here five months only, and already I cannot sleep.

[Translation: Galadriel is going to have fun.]

[inafadingcrown]

[She finally breaks the silence, only to sigh. She's too old for this shit.]

It seems I have much to which I can look forward.

[elvenking]

[That gets a weary smile.]

Not all is so grim. There are friends here. Surely you who can read hearts will have no trouble in finding whom you may trust.

[inafadingcrown]

And there are some I trust already. [She responds with a little smile of her own and a sentiment that remains unspoken but easily felt- thank you.]

[elvenking]

[He's resented her to an extent for a long time. Her people are free from the cares his own people carry, protected by a ring she was given freely despite being no better tested than most who survived the First Age. He has heard of her woods growing fairer and fairer while food was more and more scarce in Mirkwood, and wondered why she was given such renown while he struggled only to keep his people alive and happy. The Shadow had not invaded her woods. Why was she given the ring?

But Galadriel herself speaks of trust in him. She places power back in his hands, power he has felt desperately without. Others give her honor without thought, but she honors him thoughtfully.

He bows his head to her, honoring her back.]

If ever I may help you, Lady, you have but to ask.

[inafadingcrown]

You have helped already, more than you know.

[Even with all the unpleasant things they've had to discuss...just having a familiar face here is a big reassurance. It makes her feel a little less lost, somehow.]

[elvenking]

So have you. Perhaps I may sleep tonight.

[inafadingcrown]

Then we are both the better for this meeting.

[elvenking]

Have you any other questions, Lady?

[inafadingcrown]

Many. But I fear those at the forefront of my mind have no answer. Or at least no answer known to majority here. [How they got here. Why they're here. What the purpose of all of this is.]

[elvenking]

Call upon me when you need me, and I will answer.

[It's more than a promise. It's a statement of fact.]

[inafadingcrown]

And for that you have my thanks. [She would offer him the same, but...let's face it, she's not going to be of much use for a while. At least until she gets her feet under her.]