They walked back to the city, Deraton warily eying Strider the whole way. It was obvious he did not trust the Ranger cloaked in green. Deraton motioned to her to fall back behind the two. Strider glanced at them, then looked away. It was none of his business what the two had to discuss. Besides, his keen ears could hear them.

"He has a mistrusting air about him. I doubt whether we should bring him back with us. He could be a spy." Strider did his best not to roll his eyes. He did nothing to let them know that he could hear them. Lucretia stole a few glances back, being completely human, she could not decipher more than their muted voices.

"I doubt he would have bothered to save my life had he been a spy. Do not judge him just because he is dirty and unkempt." It took all his self control not to laugh. Yes, he had a disheveled appearance, but what was to be expected of a Ranger?

"Of course you would not think so! Which is exactly why he did it!"

"Give him the benefit of the doubt, Deraton, can you not?"

"Nay! Especially not in times like these! He is lucky I did not shoot him on sight! Like other guards may have done in these dark times."

"So you doubt him just because he is not properly groomed like you? You would-nay, you do- look about the same when you come home from hunting or any other trip which requires you to be far from the comfort of the baths and launders."

"Still, he seems rather foul."

"Aye, he does look rather foul. I daresay he shall look handsome enough once he's cleaned up. I think one of the Enemy's spies would-well, seem fairer and feel fouler, if you understand."

Deraton thought on that a moment. Reluctantly, he replied, "Aye, so it would seem. But I still have misgivings about this." He lengthened his strides and caught up with the rest of the group.

Deraton emerged from the Hall and addressed Strider, "Denethor is too busy to see you, but he sends his well-wishes and gratitude to you for saving the Lady Ariane, as his son has become very much attached to her." Strider inwardly sighed thankfully. He would surely have had to make up a name for himself and his father if he had been admitted to Denethor. He still had some time to think on it. He glanced over at the Lady. Her cheeks were tinged pink and her eyes were focused on a cobblestone in front of her feet. He looked up at Deraton and thanked him, not missing the sly glance he stole at Ariane. He had probably thrown in that last part to test her reaction; knowing Denethor he would never have said that.

"As part of his thanks and to express his disappointment in being too busy to grant you an audience, he has requested I show you a room, which you can stay in for a fortnight or so," He hinted.

Strider bowed his head, "Or so, yes. Thank you kindly."

Deraton led him away to his room. Ariane's eyes followed them until they were out of sight. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand covered her shoulder from behind. She spun around, and her eyes locked onto the startles eyes of Boromir.

"Begging your pardon, Lady Ari, I meant not to frighten you," He apologized sincerely. Well, almost. There was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

She snorted, the bubble in the brook. "I am sure you did not, 'Mir." He rolled his eyes. He held out his arm and she took it.

"We have a new guest."

"Oh? Do we now?" She blushed.

"Yes, his name is Strider."

He raised an eyebrow, "Strider?"

"Aye, that is the name he has thus far disclosed. He saved my life today." At that his other eyebrow shot up.

"And, pray tell, how did this happen?"

She told him the story. He furrowed his brow.

"So he just happened along when you were in need of aid? Suspicious, quite."

Ariane let out an exasperated sigh, "Yes! What is it with you people and your suspicions of everybody?"

He stopped and turned halfway to face her. "In times like these, it would be folly to open somebody with open arms. Even yourself, my Lady, people were at first suspicious of. Of course, once they heard your story, all suspicions evaporated. Even the more wary ones believe now that I myself told them. And if the people would be suspicious of such a beautiful, young little maid, of course they would be suspicious of a tall, grungy traveler, male and alone nonetheless."

"I understand. But I still owe him my life," She said grudgingly.

"Indeed, though that means not that you owe him your allegiance. I do recall a certain charming Captain of Gondor also rescuing you a few months back," He said with a playful smile as they resumed their walk.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'charming'..." She drawled.

"How about: dashing, handsome, courageous, admirable, lovable, daring, irresistible?" He joked. She laughed.

"Nay, I believe narcissistic, loathsome, vile, detestable, cowardly would suffice."

He clutched his heart with his free hand in mock pain, "Ooh, that hurts m'lady! Good thing the wonderful Captain isn't here to hear you speak so ill of him!"

Ariane's sweet laugh echoed around the stone courtyard. This was his daily goal; to hear that which was sweeter than any ballad the minstrels sang.

Strider thanked the maid and handed her a small flower from the basket. She blushed and took it, thanking him with a smile and a wink. He did not return the flirtatious smile nor wink, but continued on his way to her room. He wished to know the maiden whom he had helped yesterday better. She was quite charming and had sparked a flame in his chest which he had no wish to ignite. So why was he seeking her out? To return her basket, he told himself, though he know it was a poor excuse when he could have easily given it to a maid with the directions to return it to the Lady. Ariane. A plain and simple name, but one he had not heard before. He repeated it aloud softly. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue. His thoughts ended in a flurry when he stopped outside her chamber door. The maid had directed him to stop in front of the door which had two small tables on either side, with a vase of assorted flowers the Lady had picked. Apparently, she had a fondness for flowers.

He rapped his knuckles against the hard polished wood of the door.

"Enter, if you please!" A voice he recognized with a smile called from inside. He pushed open the door with his shoulder. His eyes wandered around the room briefly, taking everything in. They settled on the Lady, who was standing atop a stool on her tiptoes with a book in hand, trying desperately to place it back on the very top shelf. She glanced over her shoulder, turned back to her struggle with the book, and whipped her head back to him again in surprise.

"My lord Strider! What are you doing he-ahh!" She lost her balance and toppled from the wobbly stool. In one quick motion, he moved quickly to her and caught her small frame smoothly in his arms. She grinned up at him bashfully.

"Erm, thanks for saving me... again." He chuckled and placed her on her feet. She smoothed out her cream colored dress.

"Think naught of it, my Lady," He said silkily.

A blush creeped across her fair cheeks. She smiled, and he was surprised to see a dimple in her right cheek, "It seems every time I have met you I have needed rescuing." He nodded.

"I came with something that I believe belongs to you," He turned around and retrieved the basket, swooping the few flowers back into it that had slipped out when he dropped it suddenly.

"Ahm, a basket of flowers..?" She asked slowly. Suddenly recognition flashed in her eyes. "Oh! I forgot them yesterday in the clearing when... you came!" He chuckled again.

"Yes, so it would seem. Here," He handed them to her. She took the basket in one hand and touched them lightly with the other.

"They wilted a bit," She murmured regretfully, "But they yet live." She set them down on a small, low table and went to a large cabinet built into the otherside of the wall. She pulled out a large vase and set it on the table. She hurried to her room and walked out carefully with a pitcher in hand. Both hands, in fact. She poured the water into the vase, then arranged the flowers prettily inside of it. She stood back and admired her work.

"There." She said, putting a lot of pride into that simple word. Then she snatched up the basket and whisked it away to the cupboard. She tripped over an upturned corner of the carpet and the basket flew out of her hands. She landed on her hands and knees with an eloquent "Oooff!"

Strider hastened over to her. "Are you alright, Lady Ariane?"

"Fine, fine." He helped her up, and she brushed off her knees. Her face was now a furious shade of red. Hanging her head so her bangs covered her face, so collected the basket and put it safely in the cupboard.

"You may be nearly as pretty as an elleth, but you do not have the grace of one!" He chuckled for the third time, puzzling himself.

This caused her to blush again, from pleasure at being called pretty (or... maybe ugly?) and from shame at being called ungraceful (for surely an elleth was graceful if she had not the grace of one, since she had no grace to speak of?).

"Erm... what exactly is an elleth?" She asked, her eyes fascinated by everything in the room but the tall mysterious stranger who had managed to fluster her so.

"A she-elf." This simple statement caused her to blush even harder, turning her face a very unbecoming shade of burgundy. "Nearly as pretty as an elleth" he had said. What a compliment that was.

"Aye, a compliment indeed," She looked up at him, startled, her face finally paling. Could he read minds?

As if in answer to her question, he said, "Nay, you merely spoke aloud."

Not knowing what else to say, she asked hospitably, "Would my Lord care for a cup of tea? I'd offer something stronger, but..." She let her voice trail off. He knew very well what she meant; a female could not drink with a male, or a male drink near a female (or visa versa) while alone in eachothers company, for propriety's sake. Unless of course, they were wed. Which they were definitely not. Not yet, a voice in his head said. He shook his head. Where had that come from?

He smiled with gratitude. "I would love a cup of tea, if you don't mind." She smiled and walked to the corner of the room where the bell-rope hung, and pulled it gently, summoning Lucretia.

AN: YES! Two chapters in ONE day! SCORE! Now, as a gift (and an incentive to write more faster) you should click that poor, forlorn review button which is so often ignored by you readers. I know I have 3x the number of people reading this than the number of reviewers... I do get notifications when you add my story to your watch list (and thank you for adding it if you're one of those people-I appreciate it! It makes me feel better knowing it's good enough (or dumb in a funny way) for you to want to keep reading.
On the note of Aragorn taking a liking to Ari, you can pretend that him and Arwen got in a fight or never met, or something. Either way, he's not involved with her and therefor not being unfaithful.
And a HUGE thanks to those of you who have reviewed. Without you, the rest of the people wouldn't be reading this chapter right now.

Review Replies:

heavenlydragan: Thanks again!(:

Snips95; Not at all; I got the idea from my own experiences... not including the tipping of the tub, though. Mine is firmly plastered onto the tiles of the bathroom floor ;]

Certh; Thanks! I think you'll be happy to know that I decided she will NOT be joining the Fellowship, as I've decided this takes place before the War of the Ring when Boromir was still young, closer to Ari's 17 years.

Metoochocolate; Thanks for reviewing, and for such a nice review. About your cookie... it's a definite possibly I misplaced it... in my mouth... but no worries, I'll have my giraffe whip up another batch.(;