"You are late Therassa," he leant close to her ear, threateningly. Although Denethor had demanded for a family banquet but his pride of his son overcame him and the long wooden table was filled with food and noblemen and women. They laughed and joked, waiting patiently for Boromir to arrive and take his seat at the opposite end of the table from his father, who was at the head of the banquet. Therassa, sat beside him, Faramir was beside her. The steward had conveniently placed some stunning noblewomen near Boromir, an attempt to amuse him on his last night in Minas Tirith.

"I am so very sorry my lord, I did not intend to be so late." She watched the door conspicuously.

"You are a woman, I am not so surprised. You can make up for it another time." the Steward purred. With a shudder she looked down at her empty plate, pretending to admire the fine designs upon it, as she hid her expression at being insulted for her gender.

People were restless for Boromirs' arrival. She and he had decided not to arrive together and he was to wait a few minutes before entering himself.

As he did, all stood for him, even Denethor who seemed to brighten at his sons' arrival, "My treasured son!" he chortled; his arms open wide in his welcoming, "At last!"

Faramir gazed upon his brother proudly but Therassa could see his body flinch at his father's words. Trying to go unnoticed, she placed a hand on his lower back reassuringly; he looked at her and smiled sadly.

"You may all sit." Denethor boomed, and then when he was comfortable he raised the goblet high, "A toast, to Boromir! May he succeed upon his quest and bring Gondor its glory!"

"To Boromir!" They all chanted, copying his actions.

Boromir looked across all the faces and saw, most prominently, the beaming grin of Therassa, she seemed to appear in slightly brighter spirits now. Feeling satisfied that he was able to comfort her; he gave a gentle discreet nod towards her before exchanging looks with his father. He could not smile to him, not after all he had done to the two people he cared most about.

"Tuck in" and Denethor began, the others following him as he picked at the food before them. Therassa knew why she had been placed beside Faramir, she was not allowed to talk to him and it was only here that the Steward would be sure that they did not communicate; furthermore he did not want his sons beside one another. It seemed that if it was a convenience to him, then others inconvenience was not significant.

As he drunk more and more wine, Therassa was becoming hopeful that he would be too drowsy to demand her to his chambers for the last time. If she could go this night without sharing a bed with the vile man, she would feel very grateful indeed.

Occasionally she would glance down at Boromir who seemed to be enjoying himself. However he disregarded the advances of the young, beautiful women beside him, seeming to exchange banter with those about him and nothing more.

Faramir was very quiet, barely touching his food, not talking to many people and as he and the woman could not speak, they were both very lonely. Denethor had a habit of reaching under the table, with a greasy hand, and grasping her knee as he ate, not stopping conversation with the man to his other side.

Unexpectedly, during the middle of the meal, Boromir stood. Everyone stopped eating and looked up at him.

"Father, my friends, Faramir. I wish to make a toast of my own." Taking the goblet in his hand, Therassa and others did too.

Drunkenly, Denethor mumbled, "Go ahead, my boy."

He had not asked for his father's approval and disregarded the consent, "It is tomorrow that I leave, to attend a council that will discuss the state of the world's affairs. I will not only go to represent my father, but also Gondor. There are many who have faith in me, a faith that I hope I will find in myself," he stared at Therassa then, "I do not regret my decision as I am only doing what is right for my people. My heart is for my people."

Placing her hand over her chest, thoughtlessly, she gazed upon him, her eyes twinkling with tears as he gave a small nod, "Thank you," he spoke this softly. She was breathless at his presence, he seemed so noble, wise but mournful.

There was a moment of silence as all watched him, feeling the heaviness and meaning in his words, "A toast to Gondor." He bellowed, his eyes glistening. He blinked them back when he looked at his brother, who also appeared to be emotional. Boromir was going to leave and this hurt Faramir, he would miss him dearly.

OOOoOOO

Therassa and Faramir had been forced to lead him to his room; no one else would help the intoxicated steward. He was difficult to carry and he repeatedly tried to claim her on their difficult journey back to his quarters. The young man forced him off of her many a time.

At their destination, Denethor shoved his son away from him but would not let go of her. With a hesitant goodbye, Faramir had to leave her in the hands of his aggressive father, concerned for her safety.

"My lord, you are drunk." She murmured sternly, as he grasped at her gown, his fingers curling in mid-air as she backed away, longing to escape from the room.

"I know what I want," he chuckled, stumbling, "You will keep me company, you'll amuse me"

Frustrated, she took his hands and tried to hold him off and push him towards his bed so that when he did fall asleep, it would not be on the hard floor.

"Let go of me whore," he barked, swatting weakly at her. Biting her tongue from retaliating to his drunken groans, she managed to force him to sit upon the mattress. He took this chance to hold her arms. As she tried to break away, he, with unusual strength, clung to her desperately, "Do not deny me of what I want."

"You are in no state for my company, my lord. You must rest and recover from this intoxication." She was able to get away, reversing to the door.

"If you will not give me what I want, I shall take. Make your choice." His words were slurred but the threat was prominent. She stopped where she was, looking fearfully at him, "Come to me now."

She did as she was told, "Please, not tonight." She begged pitifully. She had not done that in so long.

He ignored her, "Remove your gown." He seemed to slouch where he sat, but there was no denying the hunger in his eyes.

Once again she obeyed his commands and he patted the bed. Disappointed that her last night would hold such torment, she climbed under the sheets and awaited him to join her. She stared off absently as he undressed; sickened by the smell of alcohol oozing from his skin as crawled in beside her.

Dread overcame her, and shutting her eyes, she let him take her without another objection.

OOOoOOO

Feeling befouled, relieved that it did not last long and that he did in fact fall into an unconscious slumber, she returned to her room. She was emotional and fragile that evening as it was, when she returned to her room she curled up on her bed and cried. Burying her head, she couldn't stop the tears, trying to remember that it would all be over with soon.

It would not erase those horrible memories, and longing for that last night to be a peaceful one and receiving a humiliating and degrading experience was impossible for her to ignore.

When she fell asleep, it was from exhaustion.