Disclaimer: Um...yeah. Don't own anything...that includes a life cuz I write fanfiction. Whoopeedoo

Author's note: A Boromir/OC. Takes place before Boromir leaves for Rivendell and the council. Between Boromir and an old friend...whatever you wanna call'em.

~

"Boromir. Come here, please. I would like to introduce someone very special and important to Gondor," The Lord Denthor, Steward of Gondor beckoned to his eighteen year old son to come closer.

"Yes, father." Boromir strode into the Great Hall of Gondor, swiftly kneeling a few feet infront of his father's throne.

"As you know, the earlier messenger was killed by a group of thieves. It has been many years since Gondor could properly send a messenger to track through the forests of Greywood or navigate through the threads of the Anduin. Lord Amaran hails from Dunharrow and is firmliar with our terrain."

Boromir nodded to show he understood.

"He...er...has a daughter. His heir as Squire of the Stewards of Gondor. Her name is Aedowin." Denthor paused to glance behind his chair. "Come now, Aedowin. No need to be shy."

Boromir raised his head slightly to see a lump of black dissapear behind his father's throne.

Denthor laughed at the girls timidity and continued to address his son as he rose from the throne. "She will be seven, I believe. The girl needs someone to look after her." He went behind the throne and tried to push something out from behind it. Boromir watched in curiosity.

"Come now, child! This is no time to act stubborn! How shall Lord Boromir think of you?" Denthor succeded in prying the girl from the back of the ebony throne and pushed her forward so she was but a few feet from the future Steward of Gondor.

Boromir had but a second to see the girl's face as she flung herself onto to the ground to kneel in front of him. Her shoulder-length black hair pooled into a silky curtain around her face.

"My lord..." One small hand grasped his calloused fingers and pulled his hand towards her face. He felt her lips on his knuckle for a second before she drew back as if guilty of committing a treacherous crime.

"Ah yes, you may go to your room now." Denthor waved a hand dismissively as he settled back into the throne. Boromir squinted to see the child's face through the mess of hair, but alas, she had nearly sprinted out of the hall.

"Aedowin will be...very important to Gondor, Boromir. You must watch over her with the utmost care and respect. Am I clear?"

"Forgive me, Father," Boromir said tentatively, "But why was I called upon to play the part of a nanny? Could you not spare me this small trouble and place the care of the girl in Faramir's hands? He has taught himself well and he would be more suitable in the pla--"

"Faramir is too reckless, Boromir!" Denthor's voice seethed with disgust, "Leaving her with an orc would be more safe!"

"You show love towards another's child and you treat your own like a burden?" Boromir cried biting back the anger, "Can you not see that he cares for you? Can you not love him back as a father?!"

Denthor looked away. "Leave me! Go see that Aedowin is safe in her room. I have no further need of you for the moment, my son."

Boromir cast a hateful glare at his father before walking out of the hall, leaving Denthor to his grief and despair.

Walking along the halls of Minas Tirith, Boromir navigated his way to the Squire's chambers. He followed the sound of rustling of cloth, making sure that his footballs did not make any noise. Leaning against the door post, he watched the little girl, with her back to him, pulling this and that out of her bag and arranging them neatly on her bed. Her hand fell on the cold touch of metal and she pulled a dagger from the bag. Boromir surveyed her with curiosity and amusement. Her fingers danced across its ivory hilt, and her eyes ran along its length as if she was looking at the object for the first time.

"Are you frightened, milady?" Aedowin whirled around, the dagger clenched tightly in her small all hands. He knew if he had snuck up behind her, she could have cut his throat. She was shaking and her eyes were wide. Boromir's breath was taken away. Even though she was so small, her eyes were beautiful. Bright green mixed with blue, a perfect combination, holding some unspeakable fire. Her black hair did nothing to dull her complexion, but merely accented them even more. He bowed, to show her he meant no harm before stepping into the room. "You did not answer the question, Lady Aedowin. Are you frightened?" He took a step towards her, swiftly.

"A little," she said, taking a step back, the back of her knees touching the edge of her bed. She had not let the dagger go. He smiled and stepped away from her.

"Frightened or not, finish arranging your room and come to the courtroom..." He paused, noticing that she had relaxed and brought the dagger down to her waist. "Your lessons shall begin tomorrow." He bowed deeply and left her to her privacy.

~

The sky was beautiful, and the morning dew glittered like sparkling diamonds. A light breeze ruffled the pages of an ancient journal, its binding worn away and the pages turning yellow. The book was left on the table of a prince, discarded back into the shadows of his chamber while he wandered across the halls of his white palace, its ivory walls gleaming in the morning light.

Despite the angelic surroundings, his face was worn with concern. The corners of his mouth were drawn back in a frown, and the prince pondered the fate of his kingdom.

No sooner had he lost himself in thought, two hands clamped over his eyes. His head tilted back slightly under the weight of his pursuer. He smiled as he felt the warmth of another's body against his back.

"Milady," he said in a stern voice, trying to regain his composure by hiding his amusement. "How many times must I remind you to keep your distance from a steward when he is in thought."

The cover over his eyes pulled away, and once timid young girl he had seen nine years ago danced into his vision.

"And how many times must I remind you to call be by my name, good sir?" she replied haughtily.

Oh yes, he wondered. She had grown to be a devilish little sprite, indeed. She was a fairy, bursting full of happiness at the ripe age of sixteen. The eyes that once sparked with a mysterious flame now burned with energy and merriment. Her high laughter echoed throughout the halls of his palace like the singing of birds. She stopped in front of him, placing her hands on her slender hips.

"I should hope that you have not forgotten my riding lessons, sir Steward." He laughed and shook his head.

"Very well then, Lord Boromir," she continued. "I shall see you in the stables. Whoever makes it first gets to ride Mazeltof!"

She was gone, the pitter-patter of her footsteps echoing through the catacombs like a morning rain, and her dress and ribbons billowing in the breeze. Aedowin had changed so much.

He watched her go, as if in some kind of trance. He had come to fear these days. Days where he would find himself possessed by a feeling more powerful than mere 'brotherly-love'. His hand would stretch towards her soft skin, and his body would shudder under her touch. He was, of course, deeply ashamed by his actions, but in a way, he knew he could not resist being in her company. The fact that she was his student, his subordinate, made his body creep with lust. The knowledge that at his will, he could claim her.

The thought disgusted him...and entranced him. His desire for her, he ignored it...and indulged in it. The final thought that would keep him from taking her was that his father had mentioned many times that she was important to Gondor. Not just him, but the entire city. In what way, he did not know. He would wait, and if it meant that he would never have her, so be it.

He smiled and ran after her.