It was the overall feeling of clamminess that woke her in the cold hours just before sunrise. A little disoriented she felt the moss beside her bedroll, finally opening her eyes to the faint grey of the approaching day.

Where was she? Overhead she could hear the soft rustling of leaves and the song of a single thrush, and when she lifted her head, she could see the mists shrouding a nearby stream. But it was the smell that gave her the clue: the fragrance of herbs over the vivid layer of pine and moist earth.

Ithilien, the wild garden of Gondor... The rangers' camp... It all came back to her mind in the rush of a single breath.

With a sigh she lay back again, pulling up her knees for warmth. How was she going to go back to sleep, freezing like this?

She rolled over to her right to find a more comfortable position, and one single look at the sleeping form next to her chased away any thought of sleep or cold.

There he lay in all his male glory, his body and noble face relaxed in sleep. Her mouth went dry, and carefully, not to wake him, she pushed herself up on her elbows to have a better look.

He lay halfway on his left side,halfway on his belly, his head on his left elbow, the right hand tucked under his left cheek.

She felt her heart pounding in her throat as she drank in the sight of his features: the chiselled forehead, the closed eyes, long,dark lashes brushing the high cheekbones, the straight nose, those lips, slightly opened as he breathed softly, stern but yet so soft and moist, his firm jawline, shadowed with stubble the same colour as the tangle of jet-black hair that fell partly over his left arm, partly over his right cheek.

She had to muster all her self-control to resist the urge to reach over and stroke it back from his face, to trace the features with her mouth, to drink in his breath...Her careful breathing sounded ragged to her own ears as she sat up to let her eyes roam over the sleeping man.

The blanket was pulled up to his broad shoulders, she could just guess the line of his back in the upcoming light, and she followed it with her eyes down to were his tilted hipbone promised the existence of firm buttocks and more.

She bit her lip, suppressing a moan as she felt desire build up inside her, letting her eyes slide down the long, muscular legs. Her hands helplessly clutched her own blanket in her lap...

"What's the matter?" the soft voice nearly made her choke. Overwhelmed by mortification, she pressed the blanket to her lap. "I... it's just... I didn't mean to... sorry..."

When she dared to look up, Captain Faramir's eyes were full of concern and understanding. Her reached out, patting her blanket-covered knee. "Don't worry, there's no need to feel embarrassed, it happens to all of us now and then. Don't fret about it, just relax and try to get some more sleep. It'll be a hard day." With a nod he turned round, pulling the blanket back over his shoulders.

In a surge of frustration she slumped down on her own bedroll. She clenched her fist, wanting to thump the ground.

Why the bloody hell had she chosen to be a male character for this game?