"So you say that Southrons are actually moving to reach our borders?" Boromir asked pensively, following his brother's finger as it trailed a path over the map in front of them. Faramir then nodded, bending to glance directly at his brother.

"They've been spotted by some of my rangers early this morning, it seems."

"How many?"

"Quite a few."

Leaning back on his chair Boromir sighed deeply, turning towards the door when he heard it open. He smiled at Amarie, who appeared on the doorframe carrying the tray with their breakfast. The next moment, though, he was pensive and gazing gravely at the map again.

"Do you think they're merely scouting, then?"

Faramir nodded again. "Most probably. What worries me the most are the small villages scattered along the boundary."

"I don't think they're willing to attack."

"What if they're just preparing themselves and waiting for reinforcements?"

"I wouldn't see the point, Faramir. Southrons are not what you would call ponderate people, correct me if I'm mistaken. If they were willing to attack, they would have done it by now."

"Perhaps you're right.."

"Good morning milords" the maid smiled at them, putting down the tray and settling plates and glasses on the table.

She had brought their favourite dishes: fruit pastries, biscuits, fresh fruit, chocolate, milk, tea, butter and some soft, warm bread.

Yet she hadn't missed the worried expression on Boromir's face. She had been working here for almost a year now, and only occasionally fighting with Aranel, who was still desperate to see her sent away. And among other things, Amarie could now say that she was able to understand Boromir with only glance. There was a mutual understanding between them, and sometimes they didn't even need words. As was the case that day.

There was something wrong.

"Is there a problem, milord?"

"Indeed..." Boromir sighed ruefully, but his eyes lit up while he surveyed the breakfast that was so carefully laid out in front of him. He gave Amarie a grateful look, needing no words to describe his gratitude, as he leaned to grab his cup.

"It seems that some Southrons are pouring into our territories from the eastern borders." he explained then, sipping his milk. "They are many, so we're trying to figure out what they're up to."

Faramir was nibbling at a biscuit, and glanced quickly at the girl before he leaned over the map, tracing the boundary with his index finger. "Here, Amarie. These are the borders. The little spots you see scattered here and there are small villages. There is really nothing to rob, only very modest people live there, farmers with their families for the most part."

Amarie looked at the map, pondering the situation while the two brothers ate quietly. Then she sighed softly, gathering the courage to speak. They would probably laugh at her, but she needed to say something.

"Milords, those villages are small, but surrounded by pastures. Here." she pointed at the map to illustrate what she was trying to say.

"This is a period in which the mares usually give birth to their colts. I'm speaking of thousands of horses, and very good ones. Istion always says that they are the best war stallions he has ever seen. Maybe they are scouting this area to test what your reaction would be, and then try and steal the horses. It would be a great blow to Gondor to lose those colts..."

The two brothers exchanged a glance, and both remained silent for a while as they stared back at the map again, considering Amarie's words.

"It does make sense." Boromir mumbled after a while. "The Haradrim don't raise horses; their lands are hot and dry, with few pastures.. They usually battle with their Oliphaunts, but.." he stopped then, taking a deep breath and another swig from his cup, "indeed 'tis hard to pass unnoticed when you are marching with such animals. They would need something much less showy to get close to the big cities and attack."

Faramir raised an eyebrow, considering what his brother had just said. "Attack without giving us the time to set our defences."

"Exactly." Boromir confirmed solemnly, and grinned as he shoved an empty seat toward Amarie with his booted foot, inviting her to join them at the table, staring intently at her as he drank again.

A grinning Amarie sat next to Boromir, returning the intense stare. It was an honour to be there, sitting with them.

"I thought you would have laughed at me..." She confessed awkwardly, lowering her gaze to the map.

"Not at all." Boromir replied with a smile, shaking his head and setting the cup on the dark wood of the table. "Such clever suggestions are always welcome."

On his part Faramir eyed the two amusedly, and moved to place the bowl of biscuits in front of the girl. "Help yourself." he said gently, leaning back on his chair and seizing an apple from the small basket.

"N-no, I can't" she said gently, feeling suddenly out of place. What was she thinking when she agree to sit with them; even eat their breakfast!

"It is your meal. I am not allowed to eat it. Moreover, if Aranel ever found me lingering here with you I would be severely punished. But thank you...it's really a kind offer from you, milord".

"This is our home, not Aranel's." Boromir said then, nudging the bowl closer to her in an encouraging fashion. "Eat if you're hungry. We've had our share. It'll only be thrown away if we return what's left to the kitchens; so do not worry at all. You're not depriving us of anything, if that's what worries you the most."

"He's right" Faramir smirked, munching at his apple and staring at the girl. "There is also some milk left.. and tea, fruit, and bread and butter. Go on, help yourself."

Amarie still hadn't had her breakfast that day, and her stomach was beginning to rumble. She just sighed and shrugged.

"As you wish milord" she grinned, taking a biscuit and nibbling at it. "If you insist, I'll make this sacrifice..."

She had never eaten something so good, and so the biscuit quickly disappeared, while she smiled at Boromir. Without using words, she made it very clear to him that she was grateful beyond any reason.

Boromir smiled back, almost overwhelmed by the tenderness he was feeling for that girl and by the urge to caress her cheek, or hug her, or fondle her in any feasible way. He quickly averted his eyes, though, when he noticed that a quite amused Faramir was staring at him.

"I must speak with father." he announced then, standing up and folding the map.

"I'll go and clean Lord Faramir's room" Amarie smiled, standing up. She hadn't missed the look in his eyes.

Stealing another biscuit, she took the empty tray and thanked them before exiting the room.

A quite grim Istion was making his way to the second floor that night. He would have killed him with his own hands if only things would have been different. His sister had been locked in a cold jail. And it was all Boromir's fault.

His sister had told him that Boromir was the only one that could save her.

He would have to beg him to spare Amarie. A quarrel with the great Gondorian lord would only make things worse for Amarie.

The young man knocked at the door upon arriving, entering only when he was asked to.

"I am Amarie's brother, your Lordship" he began, as he bowed his head and clenched his fists tight.

"My sister isn't a liar, milord. And... I beg you to release her, and put me in that jail instead. It is cold in there. She will become ill, and I don't want to lose her. Please, Lord Boromir. Spare her..."

Boromir merely stared at him quizzically for some moments as he sat at his large desk. He closed the large book he was holding in his hands.

"You must be mistaken, Istion." he said quietly then, furrowing his brow. "I think Amarie's in her chamber, go and check, 'tis the last room down the corridor. By the Valar, who was it that told you such a thing?"

"I've only just seen her five minutes ago, milord." the young man replied sternly. "She's in jail. Someone has told your father that she was spreading rumors about you and your brother. And that she's trying to seduce you. But I am very sure that she's not able to do such a thing! I know her very well... It's..it's someone else but not my sister! I know she is stubborn and sometimes she behaves as if she is still in the street. But she is not a liar. Not a temptress."

Dazed for some moments, Boromir didn't move at all. After what seemed like ages to Istion, he stood resolutely, setting the book on the table and putting on his vest.

"If what you say is true," he began then, as calmly as he could, "I was unaware of the situation."

Of course it was true. He had no reason to doubt Istion's word. And there was no need to inquire, for he knew that the whole affair was Aranel's doing.

Damn her.

"I will speak with my father. Amarie will be returned to her quarters immediately."

"Thank you, milord" Istion said, looking at him with renewed admiration.

"She had told me that you were a good Lord, generous and kind. I hadn't believed her, at first. But... now I beg you to save her... She is freezing down there..."

Boromir hinted a worried smile in response, and gestured for Istion to follow him as he exited the room and walked to the stairs.

"It would be better if you don't come with me. I don't want you to get involved." he said to the young man once they'd reached the lower floor, turning to look at him. "Go to your room. Do not speak of this to anyone. Just wait there, I will let you know as soon as I get the whole thing sorted out."

"Thank you" Istion said, looking at him and hinting a worried smile before running to his room.

That man wasn't as bad as they said. But now the most important at hand, was to help his sister.

A few moments later Boromir was stalking decidedly to his father's study, fuming. He didn't even bother to knock, and found his father sitting quietly at his desk with a book and a goblet filled with wine. An impassive Denethor merely gave him a look before shifting his attentions back to the book.

"Why didn't you ask me?" he demanded.

The Steward didn't seem impressed at all. "You've been taught to knock before entering a room that's not yours."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Boromir repeated, placing both hands on the desk and staring steadily at his father, who was now closing his book and returning the stare.

"About what matter, Boromir?" he wanted to know, as he leaned back on his chair.

"You have jailed one of my maids without any evidence. Why?"

One of Denethor's eyebrows arched at the statement. "I have all the evidence I need," he stated, "someone has given me their word."

"Who? What have you been told exactly?"

"I've been told that she speaks ill of you and your brother" the older man said quietly, "And, that she's tried to seduce you. The servant who has informed me has been working in residence for a long time now, I have no reasons to doubt their word."

"Yet you didn't care to ask me." Boromir said bitterly, shaking his head. "She has never tried anything on me. Nor has she ever spoken ill of us, I know it for sure."

Denethor sighed in response. "Very well." he said, "Then you are in charge to take care of the matter. Anything happens, you are the one who will be blamed."

Boromir merely nodded before rushing out of the room and then through a maze of corridors. He descended the stairs that led to the dungeon, nodding to the guards when they let him pass. He stopped in front of the large door made of thick wood that led to the cell, which was guarded by another soldier. Aside from Amarie, no one else was in there. These particular dungeons often went empty, being used mostly as temporary holding cells before prisoners were transferred down into the city. Boromir couldn't help but sigh deeply, shaking his head, as the guard unlocked the large door. It was indeed freezing down there.

"Amarie.." he called, stepping inside and stopping atop the small stairway made of large stones, his eyes gradually getting accustomed to the darkness of the wide, bare room, searching for her. His very heart flinched when he eventually spotted the girl, curled up in a corner and trembling helplessly due to the damp chill that was permeating the room.

Barely opening her eyes, the girl looked up at him, a little smile forming on her lips almost of its own will.

"Boromir..." she whispered, her breath coming out in a white puff in the frigid air.

Even during the hottest summers those jails were always cold. In winter time, one could see the ice forming on the bare stone.

Amarie had been locked there since close to lunch time, without her coat. The particular one that Boromir had given her almost one year before.

She had tried to preserve her body's warmth by curling up in a ball, but it had been no use. That chill was penetrating deep inside of her, into her bones, threatening to kill her. At that time she wasn't even able to move, her nails almost blue. The first signs of freezing.

A moment later Boromir was kneeling at her side, unlacing his vest to set it over her shoulders in an attempt to warm her a little.

"I am so sorry..." he muttered apologetically, almost talking to himself, upon seeing just how pale and frozen she was. Sure that the girl would not be able to walk on her own, he gathered her carefully into his arms, lifting her from the stone ground apparently without any effort.

They were then climbing up the stairs, crossing corridors and climbing more stairs, until they reached the door to his chamber. Once inside he laid her on the couch in front of the fire, and hurried to the wardrobe to search for a blanket.

Amarie couldn't remember what had happened after that, drifting in and out of a restless sleep, her forehead wet with perspiration, her whole body tense.

The next morning, when she opened her eyes, she realized that she wasn't in her room. This room was way too warm to be hers. And she didn't have a couch in hers.

She brushed her hands over her eyes, believing that maybe she was still sleeping. Then she realized where she was, she was in Boromir's room. She could not recall what had happened, and she was beginning to wonder why had she slept on his couch. She turned to scan the room, and found that Boromir was still asleep. He was sitting on the armchair by the window, head tilted to one side, arms folded across his chest, a peaceful expression softening his features beneath a few unruly strands of golden hair. He had not meant to fall asleep, deciding to look after Amarie just in case she woke in the middle of the night. It was only a few hours before dawn that his weariness finally got the better of him, and had fallen asleep.

He had asked Faramir the night before to inform Istion that everything was taken care of, and that his sister was safe and warming by the fire. The young man had wanted to see her for himself, though, and had even thanked Boromir for his good heart.

Humming softly, Amarie shifted to sit on the couch, feeling somewhat weak and stiff. Turning around, she stared at Boromir, who was asleep on the armchair, still wondering why he was sleeping there instead of his bed. The situation was getting more complicated by the minute.

Standing up on unsteady legs, Amarie neared Boromir and lightly tapped him on his shoulder, hoping that he would not been mad at her. She was well aware that he hated to be woken up.

He merely sighed and stirred at first, grey eyes fluttering open ,only after. another more energetic tap. A soft hum escaped Boromir's lips as he stretched lazily, apparently much more asleep than awake. But the mere sight of Amarie standing in front of him was enough to make him jolt and open his eyes wide.

"What are you doing up?" he asked worriedly, standing to lead her to the couch again. "You should just lie and rest. Would you rather stay in the bed than on the couch?"

"N-no... but I should be in my room, not in yours" she murmured softly, clearly thrilled by the fact that he seemed to care for her.

"What happened Bor..." The girl began, shutting her mouth immediately when she noticed she was about to call him by his first name, completely forgetting his rank. It was only seconds before she corrected herself, "What happened milord?"

"You nearly froze." he explained, while almost dragging her to the wide bed. "And no, you cannot stay in your room, 'tis too cold for you right now. You will stay here while you are recovering. I can sleep on the couch, or with my brother."

Having said that he pushed the finely embroidered covers aside, and gestured for her to get into the bed. "Get in" he said gently and then, before she had a chance to reply, he added quickly: "Without complaining."

Signing softly with a disappointed expression on her face, the girl had to bite her tongue to avoid shooting back at him with one of her usually ill mannered answers. Maybe Istion was right; she was too much of a rascal to be a lady.

Once in bed, she settled the covers over her body, turning to look at him, her features somewhat relaxed.

"Thank you, milord" she smiled softly. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. I was sure that you would have helped me. That's why I sent Istion to call for you..."

Boromir smiled back silently, tucking in the blankets around her before he stood and met Amarie's eyes again.

"Just rest." he said softly then, "And stay in bed, I will be back with our breakfast in no time. Deal?"

"If your father finds out that you are treating me like this, I'm sure he would send me away right..." she grinned then. "And Aranel would be fuming if she were to know that I lay in your bed, and that you're taking care of me... But...yes, deal. If it's not a problem for you, milord..."

"Not at all." he replied gently, shaking his head and still smiling. He didn't resist the urge to bring a hand to her cheek this time, brushing his fingers lightly over her soft and still somewhat cold skin. But he drew back almost instantly, averting his eyes, as he headed to the door without speaking another word.

That simple and chaste caress had shaken her very core, leaving her baffled and staring at the door that Boromir had just closed behind him.

Why was he acting like that?

She didn't know. But what if this was the way he had seduced Aranel? To be kind and gentle, just to get her into his bed. And when he would get tired of her, she would just be thown away.

Perhaps he saw her as just an object. He would have to give expression to his primal needs somehow, for he still hadn't touched Aredhel.

Amarie was confused, indeed. And she couldn't help but sigh, closing her eyes and trying to relax and chase away the ghost of that caress.

It was only minutes before Boromir returned with the breakfast tray in hand, seemingly more relaxed than he had been before. He set the tray on the nighstand next to Amarie, and sat on the edge of the bed before he turned and looked at her.

"I hope you're hungry; I brought half the kitchens up here."

"I'm hungry." she grinned, shifting to make room for him on the bed, eyeing the food.

"Are you sure that all this is not bothering you? I don't want to take advantage of you...really, Lord Boromir. Istion can take care of me. Or even Gwen...."

"Is it really that bad, for me to look after you?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. Before she could reply, he took a cookie from the bowl and neared it to her mouth, urging her to grip it with her teeth, chuckling all the while.

"Eat." he ordered playfully then, while he selected a biscuit for himself. "So maybe then there will be some silence, instead of more complaints pertaining to your so willing and careful nurse.."

"As you wish" Amarie playfully answered, nibbling at the biscuit he was offering her, and blushing a little for it was such a sweet gesture coming from him.

Maybe she was feverish, and ravening, for she felt completely at ease with him; completely forgetting, even for a little while, that she was just a maid.

Boromir was the one who had rescued her the night before. If it weren't for him, she would still be locked in that cold dungeon.

But there was something she needed to ask.

"I don't want to complain, milord, and I'm very pleased to have you taking care of me, but...what if your girlfriend should find out about all this? It would be a scandal and I don't want to create any more trouble for you..."

"Forget Aredhel," Boromir muttered, shrugging. "she doesn't even really care about me. She's merely doing what her father has ordered her to do."

Then he was picking up another biscuit and handing it to Amarie, as he poured her some milk. He held the cup as she drank, just as you would do with a little child, without really noticing that he was maybe being too considerate towards her, and that she could mistunderstand his real intentions.

"More biscuits? Or a nice slice of warm bread topped with sweet sweet honey?"

"I can get it by myself, milord" she told him again, folding her arms on her chest.

He was pushing his helpfulness too far.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine. I'll recover in no time. So please if you're doing it just because you're feeling guilty or maybe even charitable, I would like to go back to my room. Now".

Boromir forgot the breakfast at once and turned, staring blankly at her for some moments, a little dazed by her sudden outburst.

"I am doing this because I want to," he replied quietly as he stood, unconsciously putting more distance between them. "I didn't mean to bother you."

After another glance at Amarie he took his cup of milk from the tray and a couple of biscuits, and went to sit on the couch to finish his breakfast.

This is not my place. Her mind was repeating over and over again. I'm just making myself ridiculous.

Sighing deeply, Amarie found that she wasn't hungry anymore.

What game was he playing? Was he trying to seduce her or something?

Just to be sure, the girl stood up with great effort, her head spinning quickly in all directions.

"I'm going back to my room, milord. This is not my place."

Seeing how she was swaying Boromir stood up instantly, shaking his head as he neared the stubborn girl.

"Why can't you just stay quiet and rest?" he muttered, circling Amarie's waist with his arm to support her as he led her back to the canopied bed. He made her sit then, and kneeled in order to be able to look straight into her eyes, since her head was hanging low and she was obviously displeased by the turn of the events.

"Can you try to trust me? I am asking you please.."

"Why?" she murmured then, finally meeting his noble grey eyes, sighing softly.

"Why are you doing this for me? I'm but a simple maid...nothing more, nothing less. Now I'm here in my Lord's room. You are taking care of me, giving me all this delicious food and cherishing me. Is-is it a dream?"

Once again Boromir found himself almost overwhelmed by the tenderness he was feeling towards the slim, pale girl who was sitting on his bed, and considering it some sort of privilege. Life must had been very unfair to her, and he was feeling almost guilty for having been raised with so much comfort and luxury.

"Does it displease you, that I help you?" he asked softly after some moments, resisting the urge to take her delicate hand into his, to prove her how very much he cared for her well being.

"N-no" she whispered, averting his gaze again.

"But maybe I'm liking it too much. I'm just worried that when it is all over I'll feel...somewhat empty. What an indiot I am..."

Yes. She had told him. The words had left her lips even before she could think to stop them.

What now?

Gripping the sheets with her hands, the girl was almost trembling, waiting for his reaction.

A laugh, probably. Or maybe he would yell at her.

Nothing different could happen.

"You are not an idiot.. at all." Boromir replied softly, and then he actually reached for her hand, just to hold it reassuringly within his.

"Let us make a deal." he proposed with a smile, squeezing Amarie's hand gently and tilting his head to be able to look at her. "We will take care of each other from now on. You will tend to my room, prepare my bath, mend my clothes and anything else I might require. In return, I will see to cherish you; to have you eating with me, and above all to protect you from Aranel. Also...I want you to have some new clothes made, and a good provision of wood to warm up your chamber, too. 'Tis very cold in there."

"Am I worth all this?" the girl then asked, baffled and yet thrilled, her eyes shining with tears.

Squeezing his hand, she smiled again at him, but she had to make him believe that she was not doing this just to take advantage of him.

"I just want you to believe me. I've never had anyone to take care of me, except for my brother. And all this is so...strange to me, yet it's like a dream come true. I am not like Aranel, milord. I'm not behaving like this just to get your money or...to...come to your bed. I will take care of you, Though I probably would have taken care of you anyway, without having you ask. But...you don't have to cherish me, or buy clothes and wood. I'm not your responsiblity and you're not forced to do anything against your will... Do- Do you believe me?"

"I do." Boromir nodded solemnly, and then smiled again. "I've grown very fond of you, and Faramir too. You are much more of a friend than a mere servant to us. You're the only one who's dared to get this close to the two unmerciful and intolerable brothers. So.. I am definitely willing to give you whatever little happiness I can provide, without asking for anything in exchange, fear not." he said, ending the sentence with a quite eloquent chuckle. He wasn't going to ask, let alone force her in any way, to warm his bed. He wanted the concept to be clear. He was doing all this because he wanted to; not to get something in return.

The smile on his face unwavering, Boromir eventually dipped his head and brought Amarie's hand to his mouth, bestowing the lightest and most affectionate of kisses on the pale skin before he stood again, strong arms folding across his chest and amused grey eyes staring at her.

"You really should be resting, don't you think?"

"Yes, I really should." the girl whispered, the caress of his lips on her hand still burning.

"But I think that tomorrow I'll be able to work again, fear not. And there's no need to eat with me, milord. It would be indecorous for you..."

Boromir rolled his eyes playfully, doing his best to look annoyed.

"How can you be that stubborn?" he eventually chuckled, shaking his head. "Rest now, at least for a few hours. I will be back later, with our lunch."

"As you wish" Amarie smiled again, resting her head on the pillow and sighing softly for she felt already better.

Maybe she wasn't as recovered as she had thought. Everytime she raised her head she felt nauseous and her head whirled.

Looking at Boromir's back while he exited the room, the girl couldn't help but smile at his tenderness.