14. Steward of Gondor

After more time than I was sure I was allowed, I stepped out of the warm bath I had offered myself, and tried to put on the bloody corset going with the dark blue dress I had chosen.

Finduilas was a little shorter than I was, but the feeling of fabric around my ankles wasn't either disturbing or looking out of place. I was an Elf, after all. Bound to be taller than Humans.

I passed an absent-minded hand through my hair and cringed when I felt ties here and there. Working on that took me more than half an hour, but at the end of my martyrdom, my hair was as smooth as a breeze.

Looking at myself in a mirror, I almost wanted to sneer.

I looked rather like my mother, dressed like that.

I stuck out my tongue at myself.

That's when my guard knocked at the door.

"Aniha? Are you ready?"

I walked to the door, a small smile playing on my lips as I turned the handle.

Faramir's eyes widened as he took me in in the fainting light of day. His blue eyes seemed to twinkle as they roamed up and down, and at last he shook his head and looked at me square in the face, the faintest of blush on his cheek. "I knew you'd look perfect in that."

I chuckled. "When, I didn't." I walked up to him and took his offered arm, leaning slightly to his ear, a smirk plastered on my face. "Stop gaping, Captain."

He chuckled back and started motioning me forward, into the maze of huge corridors, filled with both guards and servants, all bowing to us, serving us "Captain Faramir" and "Princess of Greenwood".

After the first one, I nudged Faramir in the ribs. "You told them, didn't you!"

He chuckled again. "They have means of knowing, you know." He looked down at me, and his smile faltered. "In fact, you were right, Father knew."

My own smile turned mischievous and widened. "Good. Then he'll be a softer bite."

Faramir's eyes widened again, but he didn't comment.

When we reached the magnificent wooden door concealing the hall of the throne, Faramir nodded the guards to open the door, which cried on its hinges.

The hall was huge, as everything in the city. Statues of fallen kings were surrounding the place, and the stone throne, emptied, was flanked with the smaller one of the Steward – while it used to be the throne of the Queen.

Denethor looked nothing like I thought. He looked nothing like his son. Dark hair, slicked onto his head, sick blood-picked eyes, and a mouth used to be turned downwards.

As we reached the spot where Faramir bowed to his father, I stayed still.

Neither my condition back in the forest nor my temper allowed me to bow before that pathetic excuse for a man.

I could almost feel a sneer creep up to my lips as he attempted a twisted smile.

"Lady Aniha, I am glad to meet you."

I faked a smile. "And I you, Lord Denethor."

He got up and slowly walked up to me, completely ignoring his son. He took one of my hands into his freezing-cold ones, and walked me to the dining-table, lying not a yard away. "Come and dine with me."

Faramir didn't seem startled by his words, and took his seat at his father's left, while I was seated on Denethor's right.

The food consisted into meat – chicken, horse even – and few vegetables. An Elf of course didn't eat what used to be living things, so I grabbed two small tomatoes, and a loaf of bread.

Denethor completely ignored the fact that I wasn't really happy with what I had been served with.

Faramir, on the other hand, smirked a little and asked a servant to bring lettuce. I thanked him with a nod and a smile.

"I must say, Milady, that I am at lost concerning your ascendancy. How exactly are you of royal blood?"

I really wanted to slap that air of superiority off his face, but again breathed deeply before sipping on my wine and explaining myself – though he already knew, of course, whose daughter I was.

"My mother is King Thranduil's youngest sister, Milord. Thranwël is her name."

"So you are the King of Mirkwood's niece."

"Aye, I am a Princess of Greenwood."

Faramir winked at me, while his father, eyes cast down onto his plate, chewed onto a piece of meat. "Well, I have to say, Milady, if you wished to find a suitor here, you're not lucky. My son's not here, and won't return for a long time."

I eyed Faramir, whose gaze darkened.

I glared at Denethor, who remained oblivious of the fact, and huffed. "I am not here for that purpose, Milord."

"Then why? Surely you Elves don't come to the Cities of Men without a purpose?"

Anyone else would have been offended by the tone he used, but I was far beyond offended at that time of diner. "I had never come here before. And an Elf's skills are always appreciated in the House of Healings. I thought I might offer my services as well as, I selfishly admit, visit the city."

"Good. Then Faramir will show you the city."

And Denethor the Steward remained silent for the rest of the evening.

When I was done eating, and drinking – and it took me a long time, I hadn't eaten that well in a century, Faramir offered me his arm again, and walked me back to my room.

But I didn't wish to be left alone yet.

"Faramir, isn't there a place where we could talk? I'm too angry to sleep."

He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry about what he dared say to you."

I looked up into his face, and pushed the boldness to lift a hand to his cheek, trying to wipe off his concern. "Your father's an idiot. Obviously you're taking from your mother."

He chuckled darkly. "Unfortunately, Milady, the library's closed for the night, and it is far too late to wander in the gardens."

I thought for a moment, then looked around for any sign of life. "Right." And I pulled him inside my room.

Faramir's eyes widened. "Aniha, you're not-"

"Faramir, we've been in far more indecent positions since we met." His eyes cast downwards, and he blushed again. "Sit. Please."

And he did.

I went to rest against the rail of the balcony, looking into the horizon, breathing the night air as it was softer up there than it was down down in the fields.

"So, what did you want to speak about?"

I sighed. "No idea. I just don't want to be left alone. Strange, isn't it? I've been alone for a century, and I'm acting as a spoiled child."

I heard him get up and walk to me, though he remained at a proper distance. "Sometimes it's good to act selfishly."

I smiled into the night. "Yes, I can imagine. I'm not used to it, that's all."

"Tell me then, before this century, where were you?"

I breathed deeply once more, and turned around, facing him as his face was hidden in the darkness of my room. "Here and there. But mostly around Bree. A city of Men on the borders of the Shire. There used to be a good bunch of thieves running that way, and it took me a good ten years before the area was cleansed."

He chuckled. "Between that and helping us defeat Haradrims..."

"Oh, but I've taught Rohirrims how to handle a horse as well. Though it was a long long time ago. They called me the Woodwitch." I chuckled at the thought. Then remembered something. "Faramir, have you heard news of Helm's Deep?"

Though I couldn't see his eyes, I felt his surprise. "No, none, why? Has something happened to our western neighbours?"

I advanced in the darkness, rounded him, and went to light some candles. "If I am not mistaken, a battle happened there, last night or a night prior. Isengard had been emptied."

"How do you know of this?"

"I met my cousin and his companions on my way to Ithilien."

"Your cousin?"

"Legolas Greenleaf. He travels with Mithrandir."

Faramir's eyes reached recognition. "Ah, yes. The Fellowship of the Ring."

I nodded again.

Faramir stared at me for a long moment, and I stared at him, wondering.

Then he cleared his throat, and broke the spell. "I really should go. I'll see you in the morning. You can put your clothes back, if they are dry. We'll ride a little, or I'm not called Faramir." He walked to me, took my hand into his bigger one, and slowly lifted it to kiss my knuckles, though his blazing eyes didn't leave mine. "Good night, Aniha."

"Good night, Faramir." My whisper was soft as the breeze, but he caught it.

Leaving me with a small smile.

My heart was beating harder than it had in an Age of this Earth.

I pushed a hand to my chest and let myself fall onto my bed.

Damn.