Hey everyone, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, especially thanks to MN (I am reading your story at the mo, but I've so little time on my hands, it's taking quite some time) romeoandjuliet4-ever and ZabuzasGirl. I know I've said this before, but reviews are a God-send, I love criticism. So please tell me what you think, even if you're just guessing what might happen next! Anyway, this chapter is a little shorter than others, but that could potentially mean I update again sooner (not today or tomorrow, but midweek)!

In other news, I am already debating a prequel to this. Probably focusing on Melusida's mother. But that won't come about till my other work is finished. Thanks again for reading, Hannah xxx

Chapter Twenty One

"You must stay here; it will do none of us any favours to have you harmed." Boromir says firmly. We arrive at my chambers, Laredith gives a swift curtsey and then practically runs inside the room, I hear Boromir give a faint chuckle at that.
"Boromir, the battle has not even begun."
He smiles, "Yet I know you too well, your brothers would never forgive me if I allowed you to sneak off and fight. If you are injured or worse what would I say to them? That for a fleeting moment you lived, but not long enough to see them."
I sigh impatiently, I know he is right. But it aggravates me to know even Pippen is set tasks and duties, while I am expected to twiddle my thumbs and roll up bandages or some other meaningless task.
"Yes, my Lord." I mutter.
I see him give a mock start, "When did I become a lord to you?"

I try to think of some response that will neither make me sound like a whiny child or a lovesick maid, but I cannot think of any so I just press my lips together.
"Is this because of what I said to you earlier?"
I feel anger flood through my veins, 'How could it not be, dolt of a man?' I think, but I bite my tongue and just give a shrug. He lets out a small sigh and I find myself cautiously glancing up at him, he feels my gaze and I turn my head away too slowly before he smiles pityingly. I glower at him.
"So when should I decide to come out of my room, before a cave troll knocks on my door or when he smashes through it?"
"Melusida…"

I turn to look at him, feeling an ache in my stomach when I do. I lower my eyes again. Why did his voice have to whisper my name like that? Caught between a sigh of longing and regret. He placed his hands on my shoulders. I feel their warm strength, heavy on my light dress and every inch of me just longs to plunge myself in his arms and have his mouth on mine.
"I will not do this to you; I would be a fool if I did. A callous fool at that. I will not have you willing go to the bed of a man who's proved himself to be weak and is twice your age. You will thank me for this when you are married with children at thirty and with a vital man, rather than one who would be fifty."
"Fifty is not so very old. There are younger women with older men." I murmur, my eyes remaining fixed on the stone flooring. I hear his laugh and then his hand comes up and brushes away a strand of hair that has fallen over my face. There is a soft hiss against my skin as his hand deftly touches my cheek.

"Rarely from their own choosing. And think on this, when you are forty I will be sixty. Sixty is quite some age for a woman who would be only forty."
"So you don't want me." I keep my voice deliberately measured and calm. He remains silent for some time, before answering.
"I fear perhaps I do, a little. But that will pass in time. You hardly need me, there will be a thousand men waiting at your door and begging Hamnet to allow them to see you. I will wager if we get back your titles and lands, then we could have Kings and Princes…" the jokey tone of his voice makes the air catch in my lungs and I give a dry sob, his hands come back to my arms, tightly holding me.
"You only think you want me, you do not really…" he continues.
"How do you know what I want and what I don't want?" I exclaim.

I am trying to stop myself from weeping, but my eyes are already filling with tears. I hate it when I cry. Through my tears I can see his face half sympathising with me and trying not to bring me closer to him; yet even as he fights with the other half of his mind, his eyes look temptingly towards me. I know now I must take my chance and I pull myself into his arms, pressing myself against his chest, breathing in his warmth and scent. For a little time his battle continues, until he finally puts his arms around my waist and holds me so fiercely against him.
"Why do you deny me?" I ask, when I have finally gained a little more control and fought back my tears.
"Because I do not want you to suffer any more than you already have...and I learnt once what it was to lose you, I cannot go through that again."
"Then keep me at your side." I say, my nose pressed against the hollow of his neck.

I feel his hands travel up the length of my back, gently caressing me. He finally reaches me neck and pulls away a little to look at me. He doesn't say anything, just gazes at me, before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me. It is not like the kiss in my dream, far rougher and deeper than the one he gave me there, but it makes my soul sing and my heart long for him even further. His lips gently trail along my own.
"I hope that will satisfy you a little till I return." He breathes against me gently; I nod dazedly and open my eyes. He kisses me once more. "I must go. You will be in my thoughts."

I watch him move down the corridor, until he turns the corner and I go back inside my room. Laredith has brought all my possessions and the dresses I have been given. She has wrapped the mirror back in its velvet cover and put it in the chest. I was almost tempted to take it out, to know what would happen, what Gondor would face, but I knew it was far too dangerous to do so and there and then I wished I had my cards. It would be safe to look at those cards, to feel their steady weight in my hands, that strange humming sensation within them and pressing my fingers so close it was as though they had their own pulse, their own heartbeat. Laredith busied herself with pouring some water from a pitcher and handed me the glass.
"Cobryn was too harsh this morning, he probably meant nothing by it, he always grows tetchy before battle."

I decided against saying that Cobryn had been a shade more than tetchy this morning; he had practically cursed my family's name. I took a sip. The water tasted strange on my tongue, a little bitter. Perhaps it was from the sulphurous air, though as I inspected the glass I saw no trace.
"The beacons are lit, someone has lit the beacons." I heard Laredith cry and as I looked up she pointed to the mountains, where little flickering flames were appearing; so far away they looked like candles. "Gondor calls for aid. They call on Rohan." she breathed, her excitement evident.
"Denethor cannot be angry with Rohan if he has agreed to summon them; he must have regained some sense." I said.
"I doubt this is the work of Denethor." Laredith replied.
I nodded, remembering Boromir's words on how, if necessary, he would find some ways of lighting the beacon through trickery.
"They would have probably been lit sooner had the councillors agreed to Boromir, but they spend half their time arguing between themselves. They've always conceded to Lord Denethor's mind." she said.

"Laredith, I know it to be a strange question. But do you or any women in your family possess some reading cards? I know I should not touch them, but I need to have some idea what will happen and I dare not look in my mirror." I said, the aching longing to once more feel the same magic inside me growing stronger every minute.
"I do not believe that we do, but I know of someone who does and they will not mind lending you them." She bobbed a curtsey and left, but something troubled me by her hastiness. I had first dismissed her quietness and the worry on her face as nothing more than her fear of what lay ahead. But I felt certain she would confess her fear to me.

I frowned and sat down on the bed, taking another sip of the water. There would be soon too many worries to count and for now I would dwell upon that sweet kiss Boromir gave me. I shivered with pleasure and smiled to myself, happening to glance down at the cup in my hand; I had nearly finished the glassful. I got up from the bed, it seemed strange that my throat still felt parched, but perhaps the water was saltier in some way. As I picked up the jug my head suddenly swam and my vision blurred before my eyes. I could feel the jug drop from my fingers, the metal clang loudly against the stone floor. I had not realised I had fallen, until the spilt water began to seep into the skirts of my dress. I found myself vaguely wondering whether I had been poisoned or whether they had simply drugged me. There was not enough time to debate such a question, the dark grey clouds grew darker outside my window and the fire in the grate simply flickered out of existence.