Boromir led Ariadne into a cozy lounge, where a large fire blazed away
merrily. Others were seated, deep in conversations, mugs and cups in hand.
Ariadne looked around hesitantly; painfully aware she was the only female
in the place. Boromir gave her a reassuring glance and led to a table near
the fire. He immediately regretted bringing her here. Too many familiar
faces, too much risk of being embarrassed, or scaring the woman off.
"I wasn't thinking. Would you prefer if we went somewhere else?" He asked, his tone apologetic. The woman shook her head and sat, giving him a small smile.
"I'm sure this will do. Now that we're this close to the fire, I don't think I could be dragged away." She sat, loosening her cloak from her shoulders. Boromir sat as well, casting a sideways glance at those nearest, who were watching them with all together too much curiosity. He cleared his throat, sinking back in his chair, the warmth of the fire spreading over his skin.
"You said your father is a guard?" He asked lightly, watching the shadows flicker across Ariadne's face. She nodded, tying her hair back with a string of leather.
"Yes. His name is Syrthik." She paused, watching a serving maid approach.
"Your usual, Boromir?" The maid asked, practically draping herself around the man's broad shoulders. Boromir cursed silently, trying not to lose his famous temper.
"No, thank you. I'll have a hot herbal drink." He replied, removing the serving maid from him gently but firmly.
"And you?" The maid asked Ariadne, looking her over scornfully.
"The same please." Ariadne replied sweetly, ignoring the woman's tone and look. Boromir covered an amused smile with his hand. "I see you're a regular." Ariadne said after the maid had gone, leaning slightly on the table, watching Boromir with laughing eyes.
"Yes. A bit too regular it seems." Boromir replied, gray eyes averted, embarrassed. They lapsed into a comfortable silence when their drinks came, each leaning on the table, hands wrapped around the steaming mugs.
"You are not what I expected you to be, Boromir of Gondor." Ariadne said after awhile, looking into his eyes.
"Oh? And what were you expecting?" He asked, quirking a brow.
"A spoiled, abrasive, obnoxious bore." She stated, draining the last of her drink. Boromir started back, an amused grin on his face.
"All that? Really. If I am poor at flattery, Ariadne, I'd hate to think of what you are." He paused. "Boring I can understand. Spoiled as well, I suppose, but why abrasive? Obnoxious?" He questioned, watching Ariadne look away.
"Well, I have never really met anyone of your rank before, Boromir." She motioned for silence as he protested. "No, let me finish. There IS a difference between the common people of Gondor and the ruling class. This you would know if you ever ventured from this place." She watched his face for a reaction. There was none. "And as people will do regardless, opinions are formed, rumors circulated… You are rumored to have a rotten temper, and I supposed with all your military prowess that you would be something of… an oaf." She smiled sunnily at this last statement, and Boromir broke into a hearty laugh.
"I wonder what names you will be calling me next, Ariadne. But your honesty is most welcome." He watched her, almost curiously for a moment. "Perhaps I am an oaf. I know I have a rotten temper, and as for my military prowess…" He puffed up his chest and lifted his chin. "That is no rumor." He laughed, sitting back in his chair, finishing his drink as well. Ariadne fastened her cloak about her shoulders again, dark eyes averted.
"It really is quite late, Boromir. I should be getting back lest my father sound the alarm." Boromir nodded.
"Of course." He stood, tossing some coins down on the table. "Allow me to treat you?" He asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, placing the hood of her cloak over her raven hair and slipping out in front of him. She paused outside the door.
"Thank you, Boromir. For your company and the drinks were most pleasant." She half curtsied, her face glowing with warmth from the fire and the drink.
"You are most welcome, Ariadne." He replied, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. "I hope we shall meet again on a sleepless night." Placing a light kiss on her hand, he bowed, and watched until her form was concealed in the shadows. He crept back to his room and collapsed in bed, soon fast asleep, dreamless.
He awoke to the sounds of someone moving about in his room and he sat up with a start. The servant, startled, dropped the empty basin that he was holding with a clatter. Boromir flopped back, rubbing at his eyes. "Time?" he asked gruffly, lingering in the warmth of his bed for just a moment longer.
"It's… it's a little past noon, Sire." The servant stuttered fearfully, gathering the basin with trembling hands.
"Noon?" Boromir exclaimed, glancing towards the window. Sunlight streamed in, warm and brilliant, indicating the time to be correct. "Prepare a bath for me at once. My father has not called for me?" The servant shook his head almost violently, rushing from the room to fulfill Boromir's wishes.
"I wasn't thinking. Would you prefer if we went somewhere else?" He asked, his tone apologetic. The woman shook her head and sat, giving him a small smile.
"I'm sure this will do. Now that we're this close to the fire, I don't think I could be dragged away." She sat, loosening her cloak from her shoulders. Boromir sat as well, casting a sideways glance at those nearest, who were watching them with all together too much curiosity. He cleared his throat, sinking back in his chair, the warmth of the fire spreading over his skin.
"You said your father is a guard?" He asked lightly, watching the shadows flicker across Ariadne's face. She nodded, tying her hair back with a string of leather.
"Yes. His name is Syrthik." She paused, watching a serving maid approach.
"Your usual, Boromir?" The maid asked, practically draping herself around the man's broad shoulders. Boromir cursed silently, trying not to lose his famous temper.
"No, thank you. I'll have a hot herbal drink." He replied, removing the serving maid from him gently but firmly.
"And you?" The maid asked Ariadne, looking her over scornfully.
"The same please." Ariadne replied sweetly, ignoring the woman's tone and look. Boromir covered an amused smile with his hand. "I see you're a regular." Ariadne said after the maid had gone, leaning slightly on the table, watching Boromir with laughing eyes.
"Yes. A bit too regular it seems." Boromir replied, gray eyes averted, embarrassed. They lapsed into a comfortable silence when their drinks came, each leaning on the table, hands wrapped around the steaming mugs.
"You are not what I expected you to be, Boromir of Gondor." Ariadne said after awhile, looking into his eyes.
"Oh? And what were you expecting?" He asked, quirking a brow.
"A spoiled, abrasive, obnoxious bore." She stated, draining the last of her drink. Boromir started back, an amused grin on his face.
"All that? Really. If I am poor at flattery, Ariadne, I'd hate to think of what you are." He paused. "Boring I can understand. Spoiled as well, I suppose, but why abrasive? Obnoxious?" He questioned, watching Ariadne look away.
"Well, I have never really met anyone of your rank before, Boromir." She motioned for silence as he protested. "No, let me finish. There IS a difference between the common people of Gondor and the ruling class. This you would know if you ever ventured from this place." She watched his face for a reaction. There was none. "And as people will do regardless, opinions are formed, rumors circulated… You are rumored to have a rotten temper, and I supposed with all your military prowess that you would be something of… an oaf." She smiled sunnily at this last statement, and Boromir broke into a hearty laugh.
"I wonder what names you will be calling me next, Ariadne. But your honesty is most welcome." He watched her, almost curiously for a moment. "Perhaps I am an oaf. I know I have a rotten temper, and as for my military prowess…" He puffed up his chest and lifted his chin. "That is no rumor." He laughed, sitting back in his chair, finishing his drink as well. Ariadne fastened her cloak about her shoulders again, dark eyes averted.
"It really is quite late, Boromir. I should be getting back lest my father sound the alarm." Boromir nodded.
"Of course." He stood, tossing some coins down on the table. "Allow me to treat you?" He asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, placing the hood of her cloak over her raven hair and slipping out in front of him. She paused outside the door.
"Thank you, Boromir. For your company and the drinks were most pleasant." She half curtsied, her face glowing with warmth from the fire and the drink.
"You are most welcome, Ariadne." He replied, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. "I hope we shall meet again on a sleepless night." Placing a light kiss on her hand, he bowed, and watched until her form was concealed in the shadows. He crept back to his room and collapsed in bed, soon fast asleep, dreamless.
He awoke to the sounds of someone moving about in his room and he sat up with a start. The servant, startled, dropped the empty basin that he was holding with a clatter. Boromir flopped back, rubbing at his eyes. "Time?" he asked gruffly, lingering in the warmth of his bed for just a moment longer.
"It's… it's a little past noon, Sire." The servant stuttered fearfully, gathering the basin with trembling hands.
"Noon?" Boromir exclaimed, glancing towards the window. Sunlight streamed in, warm and brilliant, indicating the time to be correct. "Prepare a bath for me at once. My father has not called for me?" The servant shook his head almost violently, rushing from the room to fulfill Boromir's wishes.