Faramir rushed down the corridor and cut the way of a nurse who was carrying a tray just in time to prevent her from entering Boromir's room.

"Good morning," he greeted her a bit out of breath. "Is this for my brother?"

"Good morning, Lord Faramir," she replied politely, but with a frown on her forehead. "Yes, Lord Boromir needs to eat, he is very weak."

"I will care for this matter, you can go and busy yourself with other patients," Faramir explained and took the tray out of her hands without waiting for a reply.

"As you wish," she said a bit startled and watched him vanishing in the room she originally had aimed to go to.

"Did you sleep well?" Faramir asked, once inside the light room, and sat down on the chair that stood right next to the bed Boromir was lying in. The older man only shook his head faintly and looked at his brother with watery eyes. A small, dispirited sigh escaped Faramir's throat when he saw that Boromir's eyes were absolutely lacking the passionate fire his gaze had used to bear. Not the slightest sparkle lightened up the light green. Faramir found that Boromir's eyes never had been so dull and empty before.

"I hope you are hungry," he added and tried his best to put some ease in his voice to fight the depressing atmosphere that dominated the room. Boromir wanted to shake his head once more, but then realized that he was starving indeed. He just hadn't eaten anything for such a long time that he had simply forgotten how hungry he actually was. He watched Faramir putting the tray down to the ground and then bending over him, softly running his hands around his brother's abdomen.

"You need to sit up a bit," he explained and very carefully helped Boromir to move. Despite the tender heedfulness Faramir brought forth to carefully shift his elder brother to a better position he caused him great pains. Boromir didn't protest, nor made he a single noise of anguish, but Faramir knew him well enough to feel that he was fighting back groans of pain with huge efforts.

"I'm sorry," Faramir murmured once Boromir was more or less sitting, supported by several cushions his back leaned against. Boromir didn't reply with words but looked at his brother with an expression in his eyes that told Faramir there was no reason to apologize. No more words were spoken when Faramir started to supply his harmed sibling with the broth he had taken from the nurse a few minutes ago. He felt that Boromir's hunger was huge, but the pain every gulp caused him reined in his greed and destroyed his appetite. Boromir's movements turned slower with every second until he lay back his head in resignation and kept his lips closed, refusing to let the spoon Faramir was holding enter his mouth.

"You can't seriously say that you had enough," Faramir stated when he looked down to the tureen that was still very full with the not bad smelling liquid.

"It hurts," Boromir whispered. The first time he had spoken today. His voice was hoarse and feeble, the words coming out in a weak rasp.

"I know," Faramir responded almost as low as Boromir and lay a hand on his brother's forearm to give him some comfort by physical contact. "I know, Boromir. But you need to eat something. Please."

He gave his brother's forearm a loving squeeze, feeling the weakened muscles twitching underneath his fingers, and then maneuvered the full spoon in front of Boromir's face.

"Come on, open your mouth before it turns cold again," Faramir ordered softly with a faint smile. Boromir took a deep breath, probably to protest again, but Faramir cut him off before he could respond.

"Open, Boromir," he repeated, a bit more determined this time.

"Aye, sir," Boromir replied and had to smile. The whole situation was so surreal to him that he almost had to laugh, but he didn't dare because he was afraid of the pain it would cause him.

"I bet you never would have imagined to get fed by me one day, right?" Faramir asked while he carefully directed the full spoon into his brother's mouth, his smile growing wider.

"Well," Boromir said in a low voice after swallowing down with a lot of effort and a lot of pain, "You do nothing to me I haven't done to you before."

"True," Faramir agreed, although he of course didn't have any memories of Boromir occasionally feeding him when he had been a baby.

"Another one?" he asked after a short moment of silence. Boromir only shook his head weakly, his eyes closed.

"Please, you need to regain some energy. Only one more..."

"No, Faramir. I can't."

"But..."

"No," Boromir interrupted exhaustedly, "It's not only because of the pain. I feel sick already."

"Sick? Do you want me to get a nurse?" Faramir asked worried. Boromir shook his head.

"It's because I haven't eaten anything for so long. My stomach has to get used to food again very slowly, I guess."

"Oh," Faramir said and put the tureen down. "Well, I don't want you to heave everything up again. At least not as long as I sit within range of fire, so to speak."

Boromir couldn't suppress a chuckle and lifted a hand to his chest when a sharp pain exploded there.

"I'll warn you in time, I promise," he replied, causing a grin to cross Faramir's face. They smiled at each other for some silent moments, the only sound that was to be heard being the flat and laborious breathing of Boromir. Suddenly the elder brother's smile faded away again and gave way for a sad and very serious facial expression that for some reason made Faramir's heart tense painfully.

"I need to talk to you," Boromir said, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet Faramir was able to hear the great sorrow and concern that his brother's tone bore.

"Faramir, what I am going to tell you shall never leave this room," he continued while Faramir moved his chair even closer to the bed. "I am serious about this, so can I confide in you? Will your mouth be sealed?"

"You know you can trust me. No matter what."

"Yes, I know," Boromir said and smiled faintly.

"So what is it that is weighing on your heart so heavily?" Faramir asked, watching the expression of unease in his brother's eyes with great anxiety.

"You know that it is possible that I will die from my injuries," Boromir started. Faramir breathed in heavily to speak out protesting words, but his elder brother raised a hand and clutched his shoulder to silence him.

"It is the truth, you have to face it. And I wish to talk to you about what will be to come if I die. We both know what will happen if I pass away. My passing won't change the alliance between Steward Ribensis and our father, and you know what that means."

"No, he cannot ask that from me," Faramir replied in a low voice, feeling a strong déjà-vu. He hadn't got the heart to tell Boromir that Denethor actually had already tried to bond Aerilyn to him because he had been convinced that his firstborn son was dead.

"He will, Faramir, no matter whether you like it or not. And you will obey. You will do what I should have done, you will follow in my footsteps. I believe in you, little brother. You will be a great steward. The best one Gondor has ever seen, I am certain of that. You will crown Aragorn king of Gondor, he will keep you as his Steward. And you will be a good husband to Aerilyn, will you not?"

"That won't be necessary, because you will live," Faramir said a bit nervously and brushed his own hand over his brother's that was still resting on his shoulder.

"Maybe. But maybe not," Boromir said. "And now listen. I need to tell you something and also ask you a great favor."

"I will do anything you ask for," Faramir responded. "Anything."

"Good," Boromir replied, his voice losing strength constantly. "I want you to make a pledge. Promise me that you will treat Aerilyn fair and good, for she is the woman I carry in the heart of my hearts. I believe she will be a little difficult at the beginning of your marriage, but she will learn to treasure your qualities. You must be patient with her."

"Boromir, don't you think Aerilyn should marry a man she truly loves? I am sure the alliance between Gondor and Katalla will maintain, even without a bond in blood. Aerilyn has gone through so much already, it just wouldn't be fair to force her to marry me. She deserves to choose a husband by herself."

"There is something else you need to know," Boromir whispered exhaustedly and choked hardly. "There is a reason why I want you to be with her. Aerilyn bears my child."

Surprise flickered through Faramir's eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, but Boromir's hand quickly slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, and before Faramir could bring out a word his head was drawn down very close to Boromir's face.

"Yes, this child was conceived before we could be bonded officially, but I will not apologize for this, Faramir. I will not apologize for creating a life that is the result of an act of pure and genuine love between two people who thought they would be declared husband and wife only hours later. This child is the fruit of our affection for each other and there is nothing I would rather do than raise and educate my son or daughter with all dedication a loving father could possibly develop for his offspring. But perhaps I will not be able to do so, perhaps I will be dead before it even shows that Aerilyn is expecting. So if I die... Please marry Aerilyn. I beg you, Faramir, don't tell anyone that this child was fathered by me and raise it as though it was your own. I don't want her to be abandoned because she is pregnant with an illegitimate child. And by no means would I want her to secretly abort this baby. Do you understand now why I want you to marry her in case of my passing? I know I'm demanding much from you. I'm asking you to renounce the possibility of marrying a woman you truly love, and believe me, I loathe myself for doing this to you. Aerilyn is not the only one who would deserve to bond with somebody she chose herself, the very same goes for you, Faramir. I thought about the matter the whole night, but I couldn't come up with a better solution. There is no other way."

Faramir didn't reply immediately as he had to digest the rather striking news first. His mouth had turned totally dry and he felt his heart pounding heavily in his aching chest.

"Will you do that, my brother?" Boromir asked in despair. "Will you treat my beloved and my child well, even if this could mean that your heir will be of my blood?"

"Yes, you shall not worry," Faramir finally said with mixed feelings. "The blood that flows through your veins is the same that goes through mine. I will raise and love your child with the same dedication you would have brought forth. I swear I never will dishonor Aerilyn, nor the child you gave to her."

"Thank you, Faramir," Boromir whispered, pulled him closer and brushed a weak kiss on Faramir's cheek, "I thank you for being the best brother and friend I could possibly ask for. You are truly a great honor for this family."

"You are the one father is proud of," Faramir replied and there was no envy in his voice, just brotherly love.

"And I am proud of you," Boromir said faintly and softly ruffled Faramir's hair with a weak hand. "No words could ever express my gratitude towards you. I appreciate your sacrifice very much. I love you, Faramir. I always did."

Faramir gave a faint, sad smile, not being able to reply anything because he was choked with sorrow and despair about Boromir's condition, and his brother's words were moving him deeply. It hurt him to see how much this conversation was torturing his big brother. It was more than difficult for Boromir to talk about casting his love into the arms of another man, even if this man was his beloved brother.

"And now leave me alone please, I am exhausted from speaking so much," Boromir finally pleaded and closed his eyelids that had turned ever so heavy during their conversation. "Remember, not a word to anybody," he added almost half asleep.

"Yes, do not worry. Get well soon, Boromir," Faramir said and gently ran a hand through his brother's hair. "I love you, too."

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Boromir was out of danger of dying surprisingly soon, much to both brother's relief, but they never again talked about the words they had exchanged not long ago. Nevertheless Boromir thought about that particular conversation pretty often and it filled him with bliss and gratefulness that fate had rewarded him with a brother so loving and reliable.

"I hope you will be fine again very soon, my son," Denethor said, pulling Boromir out of his reflections about Faramir, and looked down on him with concern in his eyes. Boromir didn't allow himself to think that the anxiety in his father's eyes was caused by parental love. He knew what it was his father was so concerned about, even before Denethor spoke it out loud only seconds later.

"You need to recover instantly, Boromir. You know that you have to lead our army to war, and as a matter of fact as quickly as possible."

"Yes, I know," Boromir responded exhaustedly and blinked slowly, shifting his gaze from his father's harsh face to the nearby window.

"Don't forget how important you are for our victory. Our soldiers would lack confidence if you didn't battle by their sides. They need you. And so does Gondor."

Boromir only nodded, watching the blue sky and the blossoming trees he could see from where he was resting. It was always the same. Always had his father told him how important he was to Gondor and her people. Never had he lost a word about the importance of Boromir's wellbeing towards Denethor himself, the importance a son should have for his father. Once more Boromir had to admit that he missed his mother, even after thirty years that had passed by since her death.

Especially in moments like these he wished she would still live, sit down on the corner of his bed and smile down at him, just the way she had done when he had pushed it too far with playing outside and had injured himself when he was a little boy. Never had she punished or scolded him, probably because Denethor had disciplined him more than enough. Finduilas had been the kindest and gentlest woman he had known and often he had wondered how she could bear a life at Denethor's side who was so very different in nature. Never had he seen or heard her complain. On the contrary, often she had told him that she was the luckiest woman on Middle-Earth because Denethor had given her the most adorable children a mother could possibly wish to call her own.

She had been the only person, apart from Faramir, in whose presence Boromir didn't have to be the strong and brave leader, warrior and heir to the stewardship to be loved. The day she had died had been the most horrible one in his entire life, and he had cried and mourned for a long, long time. The only positive thing that had resulted from Finduilas' death was that it had welded Faramir and Boromir together even tighter and made the two brothers inseparable for eternity. The love his brother yielded for him was the purest and most genuine affection Boromir had ever been presented with since their dear mother's death, and his heart returned the same feelings towards Faramir.

Maybe Aerilyn carried him in her heart because of similar reasons Faramir did. Maybe she loved him not only for his status, power and strength, but for what was left once one looked beyond the rough surface of the indestructible soldier. He didn't know for sure, he had never been good at guessing women's thoughts, but he allowed himself to dream and hope.

"I want the wedding to take place in two days," Denethor suddenly said as if he had read Boromir's mind.

"So soon?" Boromir replied.

"If you were in a better condition I'd have everything arranged for today, but I fear that would be too much for you. Nevertheless we need to hurry with this. In two days you will take Lady Aerilyn as your wife and the next day set out for battle."

"The next day?" Boromir asked and shifted in his bed with unease, his gaze shooting back to his father's face. "But I won't be able to fight properly after such few days of recovery!"

"You don't need to fight properly!" his father barked back impatiently. "All you need to do is get in your armor and keep balance on your horse! Don't fight at the front, just be there in the background and give the soldiers confidence, Boromir! This is definitely not asking too much of you!"

"But still... I need some time to plan the campaign, study maps and discuss the tactics with the sergeants."

"That are issues you can care for while you are still confined to bed due to your injuries."

"I'm afraid I will need more time to prepare everything thoroughly..."

"Time is luxury we cannot afford at this point, Boromir! We will have to act quickly and strike back if we don't want to look like fools but maintain the respect and reputation we hold!"

Boromir wanted to respond, but his father quickly raised his voice again, cutting his son short before he even had the chance to begin a sentence.

"Rest now. You better have a good sleep this night for tomorrow I will supply you with everything you'll need for preparing the warfare. I expect you to work as efficiently as always."

"I will do what I can," Boromir replied, holding the hard stare of his father.

"I hope that will be enough," Denethor responded and then left the room without losing one more word.

Outsides, he almost bumped into Atalar who just came around one of the many corners of the long corridors at rather high speed.

"My apologies, Steward Denethor, I didn't see you coming," Atalar said immediately, although he hadn't even touched Boromir's father.

"There was no harm done," Denethor replied. "Do you feel unwell?"

"Why, no, I... I am fine," Atalar stuttered, a bit confused about the uncommon interest the Steward of Gondor had for his wellbeing.

"Then what are your needs in the houses of healing?"

"Oh, I wanted to spend your son a visit," Atalar said and blushed slightly under the severe gaze of Denethor. He silently cursed his bad timing and hoped that he wouldn't bump into somebody else he knew. He didn't want everybody to know about his intention to visit Boromir.

"I see," the old man only said, but the tone in his voice made clear that he wasn't really pleased with what Atalar had said.

"He isn't asleep, is he? I don't want to disturb his recovery," the young man quickly added.

"No, Boromir is awake. But still you better make your visit a brief one. Understood?"

Atalar felt the urge to tell the Steward that he wasn't willing to obey his orders and that he would visit whoever he wanted, as long as he wanted, but when he remembered how his father had reprimanded him after he had been insulting towards Denethor shortly before they had set out for the search he bit his lower lip and only nodded.

"Good day to you, Lord Atalar," Denethor said and left with quick steps.

"Thanks, the same to you," Atalar murmured although Denethor was out of hearing already. He waited a few minutes before he knocked on Boromir's door, he didn't want to come face-to-face with him with blushed cheeks.

"Come in," a tired voice stated. Atalar opened the door slowly and poked his head in.

"I hope I'm not disturbing," he said carefully.

"Lord Atalar," Boromir said, obviously quite surprised. "No, no, please come in."

Atalar did as Boromir had told him and closed the door behind his back silently.

"How are you?" he asked and slowly approached Boromir's bed.

"Better, thank you," Boromir replied, wondering what Atalar wanted. Boromir was sure he hadn't only come here to find out how his future brother-in-law was doing. He decided that it was better to ask him straight forward than to exchange polite words about their well-beings and the weather before they finally got to the real reason he was here.

"So what can I do for you?" Boromir asked, trying to let his voice sound nicely.

"Nothing," Atalar replied. "I mean, I..."

"Yes?"

"I..." Atalar tried again and then swallowed hard because he didn't know how to continue.

"Go ahead," Boromir said, a bit impatiently. He frowned slightly when the younger man started to fumble in the pocket of his trousers. He got out a rather small item and offered it to Boromir whose eyes grew wide when he realized what it was.

"I thought you would want it back," Atalar explained unnecessarily while Boromir carefully took the necklace of his mother out of the young man's hand.

"It's still broken, but you could have it getting repaired."

"Thank you," Boromir said, still looking down, turning the charm in his fingers as if he couldn't believe it was the true one.

"You are welcome," Atalar replied in a low voice.

"No, I mean it. I thank you very much. Thank you. I can't express what this means to me," he said with a voice that was suddenly hoarse and threatened to crack. He closed his fingers around the amulet as if he never wanted to let go of it again and raised his head to look at Atalar, but to his surprise the young man had left again without Boromir noticing.

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Aerilyn knocked on the door and only a second later heard Boromir's voice asking her in. She entered the room and softly closed the door behind her back again. A loving smile showed on her face when she caught the sight of her future husband.

Boromir was in his bed, but he sat upright and studied some sort of map. He couldn't lie down anyhow, even if he wanted to, because the whole bed was covered with rolls of papers, maps and plans. Faramir and a man Aerilyn didn't know were sitting on chairs next to the bed while Aragorn leaned against the wall, right next to the open window. They obviously had been involved in heated discussions, but as soon as Aerilyn had entered the room their conversation died away and everybody looked at her simultaneously. Aerilyn felt a blush creeping over her face and just wanted to apologize for disturbing and then leave again when Boromir raised his voice and broke the silence.

"Would you please excuse the Lady and me for a minute?" he asked the other men without taking his eyes of Aerilyn's face.

"I think it will do you good to have a little rest from the preparations," Faramir said while he rose on his feet.

"We all could stand a little rest," Aragorn corrected Faramir and crossed the room to get to the door. His gaze rushed over Aerilyn's frame while he approached her. Once again he noticed that she was a graceful sight, unmistakably of noble birth and raised to take her place as the well-bred wife of a powerful man, but yet there was something refreshing about her. The vast majority of Gondor's people was enthusiastic about welcoming her as the woman next to their future ruler. An open smile spread on his face when their gazes locked and she smiled back beamingly.

"I will let you know when you can come back in," Boromir said just before Aragorn, Faramir and the man Aerilyn didn't know exited.

"Take your time," Faramir replied and winked at Aerilyn whose smile grew wider due to his remark. While the three men left the room quickly and silently, Aerilyn stepped closer to the bed Boromir sat on.

"What a pleasure to see you," he said with a happy smile and placed a hand on her hip when she came to a halt in front of him.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, bent down and brushed a quick kiss on Boromir's forehead.

"Now that you are here, yes," he replied and drew her closer until he could lean his head against her enticing décolleté.

"Stop sweet-talking me, I am serious," she replied and ran a hand through his hair tenderly.

"I am serious, too. I do feel better."

"Will you show me what you are busying yourself with?" she asked, letting her gaze range over all the things that occupied his bed and the nearby table, but before he could reply her eyes found something else that caught her interest and made her forget about all the maps and plans.

"Did Faramir get you these?" she asked, pulled from his embrace and went to the table on which a small plate with delicious looking sweets was placed.

"No," Boromir answered briefly. He watched Aerilyn stretching out a delicate hand, grabbing the small card that was attached to the plate with a blue band.

"Get well soon. From Melina," Aerilyn read out loud and paused for a second, biting her lower lip. Then she raised her head again, pierced Boromir with a sharp gaze and asked: "Who is Melina?"

A grin formed on Boromir's face.

"Are you jealous, my dear?" he asked teasingly.

"No, I'm not!" Aerilyn shot and an angry sparkle flickered in her dark eyes, proving her words wrong.

"No, of course not," Boromir replied ironically, his smile growing even wider. He actually was quite flattered that she reacted this way, although he sometimes found her passionate temper rather exhausting.

"Well yes, I admit it, I am jealous indeed. But I'm not jealous for nothing. I don't find it very appropriate and tactful of you to accept gifts from other women so short before our wedding."

"Melina is the daughter of one of my generals," Boromir explained.

"So?" Aerilyn snapped. "Still she could have gone into raptures about you. She obviously tries to catch your fancy."

"With sweets?" Boromir asked in disbelief and furrowed his brows.

"Why not?" Aerilyn asked back. "Besides, she wrote the card in red ink, just in case you didn't notice."

"I admit it could be true that Melina developed a little crush on me," Boromir said.

"See!" Aerilyn blurted out before he could continue and pointed at him accusingly. "I knew it!"

"But Melina is only ten, Aerilyn," Boromir explained and couldn't help laughing softly when he saw her baffled facial expression.

"Oh," she finally said, her cheeks turning deep red. Then she had to laugh too.

"Oh no, I am sorry. I feel so stupid..." she said chuckling.

"You don't need to apologize," he replied.

"May I have one?" she suddenly asked.

"Of course, feel free to eat as many as you wish. I'm not really into sweets."

He watched her letting one of the tiny, soft balls vanish between her lips. Her eyes widened and She gave a sigh of pure pleasure when the heavenly flavor exploded on her tongue.

"Good?" he wanted to know while she took a second one in her mouth.

"Good?" Aerilyn asked with a full mouth, "These are not just good. These are wonderful. Fantastic. May I have another one?"

Boromir laughed and nodded softly. He watched her eating one more, and then another, and another...

"What?" she asked when she saw the startled expression in his eyes. "May I remind you that I need to eat for two?"

He smiled and made a small gesture signaling her over.

"Join me, please" Boromir said and quickly rearranged a few items to make some space for Aerilyn to sit down.

"With pleasure," she replied, grabbed a few more sweets and let herself sink down on the bed next to her future husband. He chuckled again when he looked at her face and raised a hand to wipe the left corner of her mouth clean from small traces of the candy. She closed her eyes, turned her head a bit so his fingertip traveled from the corner to the middle of her lips and placed a gentle kiss on the callous skin there. His hand slid from her mouth to the back of her delicate neck, softly pushing her towards him. She held her breath in anticipation of the kiss that was about to come and reacted with radiant enthusiasm when he lowered his lips on hers. Pleased with her ardent response Boromir quickly deepened the kiss, tasting the sweet flavor of candy in her mouth. When Aerilyn had no more breath left, she broke from his demanding mouth, causing him to move his lips to her neck. He felt her fingers running through his hair playfully and closed his eyes, never stopping to place small, sucking kisses on the delicate and soft skin over her carotid artery that was pulsing rapidly against his lips and tongue.

"What sort of preparations did Faramir speak of just before he left?" she suddenly asked in a low, dreamy voice. "I thought the wedding preparations are done by now."

Boromir froze in his movement, his mouth lingering on her velvety neck.

"Is something wrong?" she asked when she noticed that he was stiffening and his loving kisses had ceased. He backed away in order to look at her face, finding her dark eyes expressing pure confusion. Boromir sighed heavily and framed her face with his hands.

"These are no wedding preparations we are discussing," he said softly and stroked her cheek with one of his thumbs. He had totally forgotten that she didn't know about their father's intention of beginning a war against the Steward of An'Dorias who had tried to damage their alliance with such foul intrigues.

"No?" Aerilyn asked, the tone in her voice indicating that she was already suspecting what he was about to tell her. Boromir shook his head slowly, his gaze expressing a silent apology.

"No," he repeated in a low voice and swallowed. He withdrew his hands from her face and grabbed her hands, holding to them tightly with a loving squeeze. He didn't know how to tell her in a gentle, careful way and so he just said it straight forward.

"We will be at war soon," he explained bluntly. Aerilyn needed a few moments to digest the news and then the confusion in her eyes made way for fear and anxiety.

"What about you?" she asked with a faint voice.

"Of course I will go with my men."

"No!" Aerilyn blurted out, pulled her hands from his tender grip and clutched Boromir's shirt as if she wanted to shake him.

"What do you expect, Aerilyn? I am the captain of Gondor's armies. I have to lead my soldiers, I can't send them out to the battlefields without being by their sides."

"But... but look at you! Your wounds... You haven't recovered properly and..." Aerilyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself down. She let go of his clothes, lay her folded hands in her lap and then raised her head to face him again.

"When will you set out?" she asked with a more or less steady voice, doing the best she could to control her emotions.

"The day after the wedding," Boromir told her in a low voice. Aerilyn stared at him thunderstruck, her lips slightly parted in shock.

"I am sorry," Boromir added and felt like the clumsiest man on Middle-Earth the moment he spoke the apology out loud.

"It's not your fault," Aerilyn finally said after a long moment of silence, her voice revealing that she was struggling with tears. "You only do your duty."

"You know that I love you, don't you?" he asked and gently caught her chin between his thumb and index finger. "And that I would prefer to stay here with you, especially the days after our wedding. But it cannot be."

"I know," Aerilyn whispered and tried to smile at him, but failed terribly. Instead a few tears burst from her eyes and she silently cursed herself for being such a sniveling weakling, but she couldn't help it. She never had been good at suppressing her feelings.

"Come here," Boromir murmured, drew her close to nestle her up against his body, gently rocking and caressing her.

"I am sorry, I don't want to cry all the time. It just happens against my will," she whined and buried her face against his chest, her tears seeping into his shirt. She sniffed loudly to prevent her nose from running and with that spoiling his clean, fresh clothes. His scent alone occupied her mind the moment she breathed in and for a second her sense of smelling was confused because it didn't detect the fragrance it was expecting. He smelled of soap, medicine and bandages, so very different from what he used to smell of under normal circumstances. Thanks to her sensitive nose she still could have told it was Boromir only from sniffing his body with closed eyes, but his familiar virile, masculine odor was almost entirely overpowered by the uncomfortable smell of medical character. The discreet earthy, coppery aroma that had emanated from him and Aerilyn had come to savor when being close to him was gone completely.

"I will just take your tears as a compliment, for I guess they signify that you will miss me," Boromir said and gently placed a kiss on top of her head.

"Yes," Aerilyn sniffed and clung to his body in pure desperation. She remained cuddled against her future husband for a few more moments until he took a deep breath and declared: "I'm sorry, Aerilyn, but you need to leave now. I have a lot of things to care for concerning the military matters."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" she asked and straightened up again.

"No, thank you." He raised both hands and wiped the tears from her glowing face. "Just do me the favor and wash your face before you leave. I don't want the people to see your tears and start spreading rumors and make up stories. I don't want them to think we had a dispute or something."

Aerilyn nodded understandingly and Boromir brushed one last kiss on her hot and wet lips. After she had eliminated every hint of her crying and left Boromir's room again she felt so downhearted that she had to pull herself together very much not to burst out into tears again every second. She needed to talk with somebody. Somebody who knew her well, who understood what was going on in her heart and mind and who could soothe her better than anybody else. She needed to talk with her brother, and so she started to head towards Atalar's chambers.

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*** P.S.: I changed Boromir's color of eyes so they match Sean Bean's. Now they are GREEN, I hope nobody is confused and everybody is satisfied. I promise I will never again talk about eyecolors in this fanfic again!! Thanks for reading! ***