Boromir was already awake when Faramir opened his eyes. He was stoking the fire that cracked and popped. Faramir rubbed his eyes and joined him. The room seemed to ooze the wetness from the land, and the men sought in vain to ease the chill. Packets of tobacco were shared and they smoked.

"A curious beginning," Faramir mused. "What must we do but wait stoking the fire until the Prince comes?"

"Or until the king will see us," Boromir agreed. "If he indeed wants us here."

"It was clear the lady did."

A grin spread across Boromirs' face. "How could she not?"

Faramir rolled his eyes. Then grew pensive. "Does Father truly wish us to court her?"

"Father wants us to court Rohan's cavalry. If the lady helps in that, so be it."

Boromir took another puff of smoke. "Once we meet with Theodred, then more will be clear. How much the lady would play a role remains to be seen." Eyes turned toward Faramir, "If it would help, would you?"

"Would I? Of course, if that's what Father wants of me," his brother answered.

Boromir leaned forward in his chair. "But what of you?"

"You ask as though it really does depend on me. But wasn't the order for both of us to be friendly, and you, the firstborn, need be married first."

"Perhaps," Boromir conceded. "But then these are different times. And Father has told me that he would prefer the future Steward be married to a lady of Gondor."

"He has?" Faramir frowned, "Why did you not speak this sooner? Even as of last night I knew it not."

"Because I know not," Boromir emphasized the word. "Nothing is set, but death, and that hopefully at an old age. I do not know if I would obey Father in this or whether I would urge you to. Options are open."

Faramir shook his head. "No, you would do as he wishes, as I would."

No reply came, and the men sat smoking until Boromir spoke again, "I do not wish to marry, or if I must, for years yet to come."

"And Father would honor your will above mine," Faramir said, not with self-pity. "Very well. Things are clearer for me."

Now Boromir shook his head. "Nay, not so." Another puff of smoke. "In any case, she is fair to look at."

"Fair," Faramir agreed, "but sad. One needs more of a wife than a comely visage. If that were my reason to marry, I would have taken a wife years ago."

"Ah, but if she is sad, then you could let her smile again!" Boromir grinned again.

Faramir scoffed. "You would be better at achieving that than I."

"Too true. But we must make do with what we have."

Faramir turned grave. "No jest, brother. This is serious."

"I know," Boromir likewise transformed to sobriety. "Deadly serious."