Most of them had gotten quite a good thrashing during the battle with the orcs, who were indeed many more than Aredhel's father had cared to report. Boromir himself was battered quite badly, his tunic worn and stained with blood, with many cuts on his fair face as a result of a tumble off a small ditch with one of the foul creatures. Said orc had literally jumped on him in the middle of the battle, apparently attempting to slit his throat. After some rolling and brawling in the dirt, they had landed among a quite unpleasant tangle of thorny bushes, and it was there that Boromir had finally managed to outdo the other. He was sore and tired. But at least, he thought with some glee, he didn't get any splinters stuck in any sensitive areas.

The closer they neared the White City, the more he felt eager to get there. He was feeling strangely euphoric, really. Despite the weariness and the cuts, that were definitely burning like hell by then, for he had not bothered to tend to them at all. There were far more important matters to deal with, than a couple of scratches. Like hugging his brother again. And Amarie. He was dying to hug her too, he had to admit. During those days away from Minas Tirith, he had found himself often thinking about her: about the way she took care of him; about how perfectly tidy his room was since she had arrived. He couldn't help but smile every time he thought about that peculiar girl. And that was odd. But awfully pleasant nonetheless.

Amarie was busy sewing one of Faramir's tunics when she heard the horses. Immediately, she ran to the little window in her room and opened it to look outside.

What she saw made her smile helplessly. They were coming home.

Boromir had Gondor's standard in his hand. He had won.

She felt almost dizzy when she noticed how badly the enemy had reduced him. But yet she smiled. She had missed him; never once entering his room, for it felt strangely empty without Boromir there.

Trying hard to dissimulate the way she was feeling, the girl closed the window, preferring to sit on the armchair near to the fireplace.

It was no use to let him see how confused she was about him. No use. He was noble and rich. Moreover, he was engaged.

Only a few minutes later there were three light knocks at her door. It then opened, just enough for Boromir to peer inside and see if Amarie was in there. He smiled brightly when he saw her and stepped inside, feeling strangely thrilled and upset, in a good way.

"I would.. hug you, but I'm dirty and muddy.."

And he meant it. He was indeed eager to hug her tight.

"Hug...me, milord?" she asked baffled, yet putting down the tunic and nearing him in a quite awkward fashion.

Then she noticed the deep cut on the side of his neck, and without thinking, she brushed the tips of her fingers near the wounded area.

"May I take care of your wounds? I'll prepare you a hot bath, and I'll wait for you in your room, so that I may tend to you." Amarie then smiled at him, unaware that their bodies were almost brushing against each other. "I bet you're overtired..."

"I am." Boromir replied, his tone a lot softer than he'd intended, but he almost didn't notice. And if he had noticed, he had obviously decided that it wasn't a matter of importance in that moment.

Ignoring the whole thing about the wounds--or meaningless scratches, as he stubbornly thought--Boromir gulped somewhat nervously, suddenly quite aware that his hands were trembling slightly, his eyes unable to leave hers. And the next moment Amarie was gathered within a pair of strong arms, pressed tightly against Boromir's chest despite the mud and the dirt.

For a moment the girl stiffened at the contact. It lasted a mere second, through, for she relaxed within his arms, closing her eyes and hugging him back.

It felt so right that for a while she didn't worry about the fact that he was her Lord, someone unattainable, someone that she would have to forget as soon as possible.

She didn't care. She had never thought it possible, yet now she was in his arms. Maybe he cared about her, afterall. Even if just a little bit.

"I have missed you so very much," he confessed after some moments, still embracing her tight, as if afraid to meet her eyes and see her reaction to his words.

"I have been thinking of you and Faramir all the time... I have missed you both." it was then that he drew back, smiling, and affectionately settled some strands of Amarie's dark hair back in place. "But tell me, how are you? Have you recovered completely?"

"Yes, I have" she smiled back. "And I owe it all to you, milord. You saved me from sure death. I'll never forget it".

There was something going on. Something different between them. But she refused to allow her mind to acknowledge it.

"Now come with me. It's time for me to take care of you. And I'm more than willing to do it, Lord Boromir. Just be quiet and relax".

Having said that, she took hold of his hand, giving a lingering look at their entwined fingers, and leading him to his room.

Once there, she warmed the water and prepared him a hot bat, leaving him alone to wash up, while she retrieved a piece of white cloth and some brew the healer had given her.

Waiting for him to be ready, Amarie sat on the bed, remembering with a smile, the days spent together in that room. Quite happy moments, indeed.

Boromir took his time to scrub energetically and rinse the dirt and the sweat away. When he opened the door to step into the bedroom, he was still in the midst of slipping on his tunic, golden hair still damp and hanging untidily over his broad shoulders. He gave Amarie a small smile when he saw that she was sitting on the bed and waiting for him, but frowned playfully upon noticing the cloth and the small vial in her hands.

"Merciful Valar.. already set to torture me?"

"Try to behave, and you'll see that those wounds will not bother you tomorrow." she grinned, looking straight at him while he sat next to her. "Otherwise you'll have to cope with bruises, stings and soreness..."

Amarie was trying to seem smart and funny, but in actuality, to be there with him, on his bed, made her feel terribly nervous.

What evil was in her mind? She shouldn't think of such possiblities. He was her Lord. She had to keep it in mind.

To busy herself, the girl started to clean his wounds, medicating them as best she could, trying her best to not hurt him, retreating her hand everytime she felt him stiffen. But Boromir didn't utter a single sound. However, Amarie continued to apologize for her clumsiness, sighing in relief once she finished, but not daring to look at him.

Quite amused by the way she was avoiding his gaze, Boromir stared at her for quite some time, silent and waiting. When Amarie finally lifted her eyes to meet his grey ones he couldn't help but smile, placing a hand over hers for a moment.

"Thank you." he said softly then, and leaned to kiss her forehead before standing up and buttoning his tunic, glancing at the girl now and then. "I feel much better now."

"Glad to hear it" she smiled back, standing up and worrying her lower lip.

Time to go back to her room. Even if she would be already missing him.

Valar. He had told that he had missed her. How incredible! Boromir. Lord Boromir. He had missed her!

"Is there anything else I can do for you, milord?" Amarie finally asked, smiling to herself when she saw the damp mass of tangled hair. "If you don't need me, I will go and let you sleep. You have earned it..."

"I wish I could." Boromir replied, glancing wishfully at the large and comfortable bed he'd missed so much. "Father needs me, it seems. I will sleep later, if I get lucky."

He was indeed tired. And feeling incredibly sluggish, too. So much so that he hadn't even bothered to get a brush for his hair; he tried to settle his unruly locks by combing the blond strands with his fingers.

"Will you have lunch with me?" he asked as casually as he could, turning around to look at Amarie while still struggling to tame his wayward hair.

"Let me..." Amarie said then, nearing him and taking a comb.

She had never touched his hair. Never touched him. Yet now she was there, combing his silken, golden hair, brushing her fingertips on his forehead now and then. It felt good, indeed. And she shouldn't feel that good.

Then, remembering his previous question, she smiled wickedly, leaning to look in his eyes.

"Of course I'll lunch with you. We had a deal, milord. Can you remember that?"

"I could never forget..." Boromir replied mischievously, managing a playful smile, though he was inwardly struggling to keep his hands in place. The urge, or better the need to wind his arms around her waist was almost unbearable.

And it was strange how her very presence was making him feel suddenly, very strange. It was mostly due to the fact that he was dying to kiss the breath out of her. The strange desire in itself was new to him; probably because he had never been really attracted to someone before.

Attracted, yes. He had to finally admit it. The only problem was that he, Boromir, the Steward's son, wasn't supposed to find himself attracted to one of his servants.

"Very well" she playfully remarked, withdrawing to have a better view of him.

"I would say that you're perfectly in order, milord. Now that your hair is combed, you can go and talk to your father. I'll come back here in a few hours, with our lunch. Does that suit you?"

"Indeed" he nodded solemnly, taking a few steps back without averting his eyes. Then he bowed theatrically, and smirked. "I am looking forward to our lunch together, m'lady." Then he was closing the door behind his back, taking a deep breath and striding to the stairway. Feeling oddly flushed and confused once again. What was the matter with him?

Amarie heard him coming back. His heavy steps were unmistakable.

Smiling, she again looked at herself into the little mirror.

She was wearing one of the dresses he had the dressmakers sew for her. It was beafutiful.

A creamy silken rope enveloped tightly her upper body, leaving bare her shoulders but covering her neck.

Boromir hadn't had the chance to look at the dresses, for he had been summoned to battle, and she now was willing to let him see how much she liked them.

It was just for that, wasn't it? She didn't know. Even though they had eaten together many times before, today was different, she felt excited. She needed to feel beautiful.

Carrying the trolley on which Gwen had placed their meals, the girl knocked at his door, doing her best to hide how thrilled she felt

Instead of merely allowing her to enter, Boromir took care to open the door himself, knowing that it was Amarie. When he actually saw her though, his jaw dropped.

"Dear Valar Amarie, you're beautiful..." he murmured, even before he could realize that the words were actually escaping his lips. When he did, he hurried to clear his throat and to step aside, allowing her to enter.

"Is that one of the dresses they've made for you?"

"Yes it is" she smiled brightly, entering the room and walking to the table to arrange plates and goblets.

"I'm happy that you like it. It's not... very proper for a simple maid, but... it's beautiful, milord. And I want to thank you. For seeing me as a girl and not as a simple servant..."

"That's what you are." Boromir replied quietly, glancing at her as he helped to set the table. Once finished he smiled, gesturing for her to sit down and then settling her chair, before he walked to take his place in front of her. They merely stared at each other for some moments, saying nothing, until Boromir eventually turned his gaze to survey the food laid in front of him with an awkward smile.

Damn.

He wasn't good at these sort of things. His studies and training hadn't included romance and such fluffiness; he didn't know how to behave. His life experiences were of no use, either. He had never been in need to actually court someone. Before today.

And he couldn't just eat, or stare at her, he had to start a conversation somehow. They'd eaten together many times before, and it had never been a silent meal. They always had something to talk about, but this time he was feeling like it was different, without really knowing why.

"Have any matters of importance taken place while I was away?" he asked very, very casually, while pouring some wine into her goblet.

"Thank you" she smiled, sipping her wine while looking at him.

Valar. He was beautiful.

"Faramir and I took a ride outside. It was actually funny how it happened. I hadn't been outside in a while and he was feeling alone, without you, so he asked me to go with him. Then of course, Aranel keeps looking grimly at me, but she doesn't come near me. She's afraid of what'd you do..."

"Is she?" Boromir smirked, obviously delighted by the revelation. He filled his goblet as well, and then proceeded to serve Amarie with some stew and potatoes.

"She's right to be afraid," he continued then, "for I won't allow her to give you any trouble. She's done enough mischievousness since her arrival, and I won't think twice about sending her away, if she dares to meddle again."

"The others aren't as bad as she is," Amarie explained, while serving him as he had done for her.

"But they still say that...you two bed every one of your maids. But there is someone who adores you, her name is Gwen. She had somewhat reassured me about you at the beginning. But her husband believes Aranel's gossip..."

She had tried to avoid his eyes while saying such words.

Was it possible that he had bedded every one of his maids? Was he so in need of wenches?

Still she couldn't understand what was wrong with her. A moment before she liked him, a moment later she was scared to death and ready to fight the temptation. She wasn't going to be one of those maids who were bedded and just as soon forgotten.

"Aranel has been the only one." Boromir replied quietly, without averting his eyes. "For me, anyways. I do not know what Faramir does when his door is closed, unless he tells me. And it's never safe to seek after such pleasures under your own roof, I reckon. So 'tis quite obvious that I would look elsewhere, if I were in need. I do not wish to give them something else to gossip about."

"And...do you often seek after such pleasure, milord?" she thought, blushing when she realized that she had actually said it loud.

"Oh...I--I'm sorry milord...I should never have asked...I--I don't know what's wrong with me. Sometimes I forgot I'm just a maid..."

Having said that, she stood up, too upset and confused to stay there so close to him. She walked to the window, sighing deeply and passing her hand on her face in an attempt to regain her composure.

How could she have been so stupid?

In no time, Boromir stood as well, and walked towards her.

"I do not, although, I used to." he admitted, circling Amarie so as to face her, and leaning his back against the wall next to the window, arms folded. "May I ask you a favour?" he asked after a few moments, hinting a smile when she nodded hesitantly. "Try not to behave like a maid when you're with me.. I prefer you as Amarie."

This time she paid attention not to say it loud, but just smile brightly at him.

"I've always been considered as just a maid, milord. Sometimes I just try to react, to show others that I'm a normal person, too. But it's not always accepted... and when I'm with you I feel free and...happy , even if causes great confusion in me. And sometimes, I just don't know how to behave..."

"Follow your instinct, then" he said gently, taking Amarie's hand to lead her back to the table. "Just be yourself when you are with me."

He sat down after her, smiling, and reached for her hand over the table to hold it affectionately in his for a moment, before turning his attentions back to their meal.

Smiling, Amarie was quite stunned by Boromir's behaviour. He was being tender and sweet to her, though he wasn't supposed to.

No further words were exchanged between them, and once the meal was over, Amarie settled the dirty dishes on the trolley, smiling at him as she exited his room.

She had to think about the party happening that night. Maybe she would find someone like her, who would help her to forget Boromir.

It would be better if she did.