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Role players featured in this chapter: princessannavalerious and boromirofminastirith
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3. The Steward's Sons
Following Boromir closely, pace quick, Anna took each moment she could to take in her surroundings, her reluctant guide included. Marble and limestone lined every hall they walked down and, for the first time in her life, the princess felt a miniscule stab of jealousy at the wealth and power of the city she now found herself in.
Boromir was silent as he led her down each polished hall, only adding to her lingering frustration. She didn't like being kept in the dark on any matter, and, if she was now to be staying with this man and his father indefinately, she would rather not be ignored and treated to silence.
"Where are we going?" she demanded briskly, increasing her steps to match his, offering him a poisonous glare. The Steward's son turned, lips pulled into a grim line. Before he could answer, his eyes left her face and he looked over her head. Irritation growing, Anna also turned to look, seeing a man coming towards them, his arms cradling some precious cargo, eyes darting towards it every other step, as if it were too fragile to be handled.
Or too dangerous.
As the man approached, the same servant from earlier, Anna noted, the same fear etched into his features, he bowed his head, coming to a stop a few feet from them.
"My lord Boromir," he greeted hurridly, to which Boromir responded with a short nod. "And-and, erm.." the servant stuttered, glancing worriedly to her. Anna blinked, unsure of how to continue with this nervous man, when he unfolded his arms, holding out the object in hand to her-her blade, scabard, and belt.
Taking it from him gingerly, chastising herself horribly for forgetting it in the first place, knowing that her life had depended on this sword more often than not. With a grateful bob of her head, she clutched the weapon close to her, with a simple; "Thank you."
The servant jolted, blinking quickly and opening his mouth as if to speak, but decided against it, bowing once more and scurrying away. Amused, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, the princess set to work fixing her belt back into place, glad to feel its familiar weight on her hip once more. She could feel Boromir watching her and, raising a brow at him as she straightened, she frowned slightly.
"You didn't answer my question."
"We were interupted," he reminded, tone clipped, but not nearly as miffed as before. A small tilt of her head accompanied a hesitantly softened expression from one of ignorant anger to one of mere confusion. His own countenance changed from hardened to curious, before he turned back to his original path, walking ahead of her once again. With a groan of irritation, the princess followed suit.
"If you are to be staying with us, this information must be shared." Boromir finally answered, casting a glance towards her. Anna met his gaze, but the sound of swords clashing drew her eyes elsewhere, looking forward as they came closer to an open doorway. Squinting at the bright light of the sun shining through the opening, Anna turned to Boromir again.
"Shared with who?"
Four arrows hitting canvas targets in rapid succession cut their interaction short and Anna came to an abrupt stop, taking a step back as her eyes adjusted and she stared out at the training field. Men were scattered all over the courtyard, some sparring with each other, others, like the four men directly in front of her, were drawing back long bows. The princess' eyes darted back and forth, unsure of the situation yet again.
"Boromir!"
Both turned at the voice, Boromir with a grin and Anna with a look of befuddlement, as a man approached them from his place from the first target, smiling and laughing. The Steward's son gave a throaty chuckle, clapping the other man on the shoulder and looking down at the target, a single, green fletched arrow sticking out of it.
"What were you aiming at?" Boromir teased. The other man rolled his eyes, giving a playful push and gesturing down at his target.
"The target of course!"
"Well, certainly not the center of it. You're too far off!"
"And what do you know of archery?"
Anna watched them carefully, chest aching at the familiar interaction between the two men-the easy, playful teasing and the obvious deep bond reminded her of her brother, Velkan, and the relationship she had had with him. In an instant, noting the stark similarities in their features and the closeness they showed, Anna guessed that Boromir and this other man were brothers.
Both men gave a hearty laugh, clapping each other on the shoulder again, settling back and pausing briefely, as if they both had something on their minds to say, yet were waiting for the other to speak first. Anna stepped forward out of habit, not wanting to be excluded and to scan the training field once more, now that her eyes were properly adjusted, to take in the intriguing scene unfolding before her. The brother caught sight of her, blinking in surprise.
The princess stopped short, hesitant to keep her eyes locked on Boromir's brother-he seemed to share the same keen, intense eyes of the Steward and she supressed a shudder at the thought.
The brother finally moved, nudging Boromir and nodding in her direction, eyes flickering between them. The reluctant pair tensed, the princess inhaling with apprehension and the native sighing with resignation. Motioning her forward, Boromir gave a wide gesture between the two standing on either side of himself.
"My brother, Faramir, Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien."
Faramir gave a curteous bow of his head, nodding with a quick smile. Already, Anna decided that she liked him better than his brother, who, as the heir, was likely the elder of the two. He was certainly more polite, though she knew she should partially forgive Boromir, due to the circumstances of their meeting.
Gesturing to her, Boromir introduced hesitantly; "Faramir, Princess Anna -"
"Valerious," she finished, stepping closer and offering a pleasant nod of her head. Faramir suddenly frowned, bowing low with a respect that shocked her. She may have carried a royal title all her life, commanded reverence with her powerful voice and high position in Vaseria, but never before had she been bowed to in such a manner. Those mannerisms died out decades ago with suits of mail and the codes of Chivalry.
"My lady," he offered politely, as he straightened. Brow creasing, Anna shook her head, waving his words off and crossing her arms over her chest.
"I am no one's lady," she clarified, her tone firm, but gentle. "But, princess, if you must. Otherwise, call me Anna." At both men's confused expressions, she chewed the inside of her cheek. How did she begin to explain her reasoning behind this? That she had never been called 'My lady', nor did she ever think she'd be comfortable with it? Or that she was hoping that, in the short time she had been in this strange land, she had managed to put two and two together, with her knowledge of the standard social ladder?
"I am a stranger in these lands, but, from my understanding, our social standings are almost equal, yes? There is no need for such formalities."
Faramir and Boromir both answered with a brief look of puzzlement, but the former smiled at her, piercing eyes twinkling and the harshness melting from his features. Anna in turn mimicked him, allowing her lips to turn up ever so slightly. Pulling her eyes away from the brothers, she looked down at the target, pouting slightly as she examined the shaft, imbeded in the canvas and wood.
"Was this your shot?" she asked, gesturing down the range. Faramir nodded, hand clenching and unclenching around the grip on his long bow. With an appraising nod, Anna offered a half-smile, the first one she had shared since arriving in the city, and placed her hands on her hips. "You're very good," she complimented.
"Thank you, Anna," Faramir quipped, testing her name on his tongue. Just as their names were odd, it seemed hers was just as strange on his tongue. "You are familiar with longbows then?"
With a slight grimace, her eyes not yet leaving the target, Anna gave another nod. "More or less. I myself prefer the sword-" She placed her hand reflexively on the pommel of her blade, twisting her hand on the polished brass. "Longbows are more of a... rarity among my people." Not that any of the villagers were short on talent, of that they had plenty, she thought sarcastically, but they were too preoccupied with the harvest tools and traditional pieces to sell in markets than with hand-crafted bows for hunting. Gun powder was cheaper.
"And where do you hail from, Princess? Your name is-"
"Foreign?" Turning around, Anna gave a small laugh, taking in the archer's appearance fully for the first time. He was clothed similar to his brother, who stood almost off to the side, grey eyes watching her carefully, yet his was looser and colored like the shades and hues of the forest. Boromir had mentioned a type of ranger-perhaps these rangers, and, thus Faramir, were stealthy hunters.
With a silent sigh, she fought an inner battle of describing her home as she had before. Noting how that had backfired, Anna sought the easier route.
"A land far from here," the princess allowed. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Boromir shift, raising a critical brow at her, to which she returned in kind. Before their standoff could begin anew, a servant came forward, bowing low to them all before offering a pleasant smile.
"My lords, my lady-Lord Denethor requests your presence once more for an evening meal."
Faramir stiffened and Boromir's fingers pressed against his forehead, massaging the skin beneath them. Anna gave them each a glance, feeling embarrassment rising in her cheeks at the realization that she had just been invited to dinner-a formal dinner, she suspected-and she didn't know who the host was. Cautiously, she leaned closer to the brothers, folding her arms close to her and whispering her question; "Who?"
"Our father," Faramir answered in a hushed voice, hands tightning around his bow. Boromir simply regarded her silently, irritatedly, she noted, before shaking his head, waving the servant off.
"We will be there. Let me show our guest to her chambers and we will be joining him shortly."
Shock flitted across the princess' face, though only for a moment, as Boromir shared a grimace with his brother. Faramir slung his bow over his shoulder with a sigh.
"We might as well get ready now-no need to keep him waiting. You know how he gets." The ranger offered with a false grin. Nodding in Anna's direction, he turned and stalked across the courtyard, just as Boromir cleared his throat to get her attention, leading her back into the palace.
Content to keep her face a mask of anger than to show the interest she was now holding for the Steward's sons and their city, Anna followed closely, eyes wandering the halls in an attempt to familiarize herself with the palace enough to find her way to her room without difficulty. The last thing she wanted to do was be dependent on her guide to take her to places she ought to know. Still, the halls were starting to blend together in her eyes-all were white with black pillars, with only a few small tables or pieces of furniture to indicate they were different at all.
"Your chambers will be near ours," Boromir informed her, not bothering to turn and face her. "It will take Faramir and I but a few minutes to make ourselves presentable."
"You need not worry about me keeping you waiting," Anna snapped as they came to a stop. "It seems to me as if you've never met a woman like me before. I may surprise you yet." It was a challenge-the gypsy princess wanted to see what the women of this land were like compared to herself-were her actions and mannerisms common or unheard of?
"Believe it or not, there are not many women I am familiar with," Boromir replied gruffly.
"Then I will have to teach you," she offered, less out of spite and more out of the pure amusement at shocking him with her foreign and strange ways. It was always a pleasure to see a man's eyebrows meet his hairline. Turning away from him, she found herself staring at a door, simple, yet elegant. With a nod towards it, hands on her hips, she confirmed her thoughts aloud. "This is where I'm to be staying?"
At Boromir's nod, Anna stepped forward and opened the door, an audible gasp passing her lips as she stepped into the room. Or, rather, rooms.
The first room she entered was remniscent of a large study, a polished ebony desk set in the center of the room, two matched chairs set on either side of it, and a small sofa at the wall closest to the door. The arched doorway at the end of the study led into another room, one that, from where she was standing, could be made out as the bedroom. What she had expected to be a simple room for guests was more of a small apartment like the ones she had seen in Budapest.
Transfixed on the genorosity shown to her, a foreign royal and irritating guest, Anna barely heard Boromir's question, asking if she was in any more need of him.
"No," she answered softly, facing him with a thankful nod. "No, thank you."
With that, he blinked before returning the nod. "Ready yourself quickly, then. The Steward is waiting." Boromir turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her to her task. Anna made her way carefully through the study, stopping beside the desk and opening the dark blue curtains to reveal a stunning view of the afternoon sun and the land below it. Shaking her head before she could loose herself to the beauty of it all, Anna stepped into the bedroom, noting with surprise the large bed and elegant vanity. The Steward was waiting.
Without a second thought, Anna shrugged off her velvet bolero, rolling up her sleeves and gazing at her face in the mirror, giving a steady thought to her appearence for the first time since she had arrived. A formal dinner with her host and his two sons. The evening hadn't even begun and already, Anna found herself longing for a strong drink.