*** Hiya everyone!! Sorry for the delay, but now I'm back and I'll try to update sooner in future. Please note that this chapter was NOT beta-read, don't rip my head of for mistakes in spelling/grammar and odd sentence structures and so on. English is not my native tongue.

I assume most of you found the last chapter rather boring since there was a huge lack of "Lord of the Rings" characters, but the chapter was important to me so I decided to not change it. There's plenty of Boromir in this one again, so I hope you'll like it better.

Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for your patience.***

Aerilyn stood in front of the door to Boromir's room in the houses of healing, her heart pounding madly.

It was late in the evening and she was sure Boromir was already wondering why she had not visited him during the day. She last had seen him in the morning and then, after the terrible incident with her father, slept in Atalar's bed for hours. She had never before felt so tired, as if her body had decided to claim all the sleep it had been lacking during the past days the very moment she lay down on the comfortable mattress. It had been a surprisingly untroubled and dreamless slumber, probably because her brother had been resting next to her, his warm presence calming her immensely.

But now, she wasn't calm at all. She had been standing here for several minutes already, her nervous hand resting on the doorknob. She knew she had to face Boromir sooner or later and the longer she waited, the more miserable she felt about the whole situation. Hesitatingly, Aerilyn tightened her grasp on the doorknob and took a deep breath.

No, no! a voice screamed inside of her. You can't face him like this!

If only she knew how he would react... She was scared. Not of his reaction towards her, after all she wasn't the one to blame for the way her face looked right now, but she feared the wrath Boromir probably would develop instantly towards her father. The last thing she wanted and needed was a brawl between her fiancé and her father, one day before her wedding.

But if he does not see it today, he will tomorrow, she pondered, trying to ignore the urge to just run away. After coming to the assumption that it would very likely end in catastrophe if Boromir learned of her condition the moment they were to exchange rings and vows, she swallowed hard and opened the door as quietly as possible.

Boromir sat on his bed, legs crossed, a huge map on his lap and a large plume in his hand. A small inkpot was placed right next to him and she watched wordlessly as he dipped the quill into it and marked several spots on the map, his handsome face a mask of concentration and engrossment. She had to summon up quite some self-control to not just turn on her heels and leave him to his planning and preparations. Instead of running away, she silently closed the door behind her back and approached her future husband with weak knees and a lump in her throat.

"Good evening, Boromir," she said, her voice betraying her and coming out in an unsteady tone that revealed her discomfiture. His head snapped up while she came closer and the little smile that had started to cross his features when he discovered her froze the second his gaze reached her face. She came to a halt in front of him, the fingers of her intertwined hands fumbling with one another nervously. She didn't look at him, she just couldn't, but she clearly felt his intense gape. He stared at her for several moments that seemed deadly in their silence, until the paralysis of the shock ceased and he found his tongue.

"Aerilyn, what happened?" he asked, his voice surprisingly soft and low, and reached out to her face, gently running his fingertips over the cheek that was unscathed and making her look him straight in the eyes. "Who did this to you?"

She didn't reply but shifted her gaze back to the ground. She couldn't stand the questioning look in his eyes, the expression on his face that was beyond concern. She didn't want to talk about the matter. She wished they could just pretend nothing happened and go on.

"Who did this?" he repeated, a little more urgently, as he withdrew his hand from her heated cheek. She heard paper rustle as he put the map aside, and then felt both his hands on her body, one stroking each one of her arms.

"Aerilyn..." he pleaded, but she still didn't react. Instead, she pressed her lips together in a desperate attempt to fight back tears that were gathering in her eyes. Suddenly, the gentle caresses stopped abruptly and she gasped when his fingers closed around her arms firmly, almost shaking her.

"I've asked you a simple question!" Boromir said, somewhat harsher than he had intended in the first place, not even trying to hide his impatience and anger that was starting to break free. "Answer me."

"It is not as bad as it looks," she responded in despair, her voice low but thick with emotion. She gritted her teeth when he captured her chin between his thumb and index finger and gently forced her to look up again and meet his eyes.

"You will tell me who hit you. Now," he demanded, his voice more tender again, but nonetheless expressing that he wasn't willing to accept her silence any longer. She knew she had better not evade his question again unless she wanted a dispute.

"I received punishment from my father," she finally told him with a faint voice. The lump in her throat got bigger as she watched Boromir's eyes becoming thin slits, the emerald green sparking with fury.

"It is not as bad as it looks," Aerilyn repeated and then winced when he suddenly shouted at her.

"Not bad?!" he spat. "Did you actually look at your face?!"

"Please..." she whined and put both hands on his upper arms in a helpless attempt to calm him, but it didn't effect him at all. It even seemed to encourage his rage.

"What, please?! You cannot seriously expect me to pretend nothing happened!" he snapped and swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a grim expression on his face.

"What are you doing? You must lie down," Aerilyn said and slid her hands from his arms onto his chest, trying to push him back.

"No, Aerilyn! Do you realize half of your face is beaten black and blue?!"

She struggled against him, muttering another plea, but in his anger Boromir was determined and unyielding, even more so than normal. He easily pushed her aside to get out of the bed, unintentionally causing her to lose balance. She would have fallen to the ground if she not had reached out to the bed, clasping blindly and holding on to what her fingers found. In her quick motion, she brushed the inkpot and brought it to a fall. Even before it reached the floor she felt Boromir's hands catching her, but she pulled out of his grasp when the sound of glass shattering to pieces pierced their ears.

"I'm sorry," she muttered as she knelt down on the ground in order to collect the broken fragments.

"Aerilyn..." Boromir sighed and wrapped a strong hand around her shoulder. "Let it be. Come, you will only cut yourself. And your dress gets all messed up."

"I don't care," she replied faintly.

"But I do care. About you, I mean. Not the dress." His words had the effect he had wished since she scrambled to her legs and nestled up to him, her ink-stained hands resting flatly on his chest and her whole body pressed to his. For a moment, he held and caressed her in order to soothe her, but he had not forgotten what had to be done.

"Where is your father now?" Boromir finally asked, causing his betrothed to pull back in his embrace to face him. She faintly shook her head while her hands curled up to fists that clung to his shirt.

"You haven't fully recovered yet. Please, get back to bed again," she begged and made another attempt to push him down to the sheets, but he didn't let her succeed. Instead, he lifted his hands to cover her small, cold fists, squeezing them with affection.

"I don't feel bad enough for not talking to your father about this," he said softly, yet very determined.

"No, please," she whispered. "It will make things only worse if you talk to him."

"I can't think of anything worse he could do to you," Boromir replied, his concerned gaze ranging over the dark swellings of her black eye and bruised cheekbone.

"You are not even dressed properly," Aerilyn pointed out, trying to talk him into remaining in bed.

"That's the slightest problem right now, don't you think?" he responded and then bent down to give her a tender kiss on her lips. It was a kiss that was supposed to express assurance and the promise to protect her, but it only caused the held tears to break free.

"Don't go," she tried again, crying almost inaudibly, and wrapped her arms around his waist as if she wanted to hold him back with physical strength. That was of course an absurd idea, regarding the huge difference between the nature of their bodies.

"I must," he said, grabbed her hands that were locked behind his back and opened her tight embrace easily.

"Did your father never punish you?" Aerilyn asked desperately, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

"He did, but that is something completely different."

"No, it's not."

Boromir sighed and encircled her thin wrist with one large hand while he wiped her tears away with the thumb of his other hand.

"I need to make sure he never will do it again, don't you understand that?"

"After all he is my father."

"But this is my empire and as long as he plans to stay he has to stick to my rules! I will go and teach him that for I believe he won't stop otherwise," Boromir said, getting enraged again. It made him more than furious that somebody had beaten her, that somebody had dared raise his hand against his future wife. That somebody had harmed the woman who would give birth to his child, the heir to his empire.

"I don't want him to hit you again," Boromir spewed before Aerilyn could say anything. "I don't want anything to happen to you. Or our child. If he beat you and caused you to lose the baby I would hate myself for the rest of my life because I didn't do anything to avert it."

Boromir looked at her silently for a moment, his gaze fixed on the pleading expression in her dark eyes, the tears brimming along their rims. He could not tear his eyes away from the slight tremble of her pale lips, or the large bruise that seemed so wrong on her beautiful face. The rich, dark violet of the contusion contrasted to her light porcelain skin horribly.

"I must," he finally repeated. "I don't see any reason, or any excuse for beating a woman. I will not tolerate such behavior. Not in my city, and especially not my pregnant future wife."

"That is very noble of you, but, still, I beg you, don't go. Please. You don't know him. He will only get more furious if you take him to task on this matter."

"Don't be afraid, Aerilyn. I will make sure he never again will raise his hand against you. He may be your father, but I will be your husband and I will protect you, now and in the future. You cannot expect me to look at your maltreated, sad face and not do something. I love you and I can't bear to see you suffer. This shall never happen again. Do not fret, I will see to it."

"But what about my brother?" she blurted out, her eyes filling with even more tears. Boromir stared at her, not understanding what she meant.

"What about him?" he asked wonderingly.

"Who will protect him? Who will make sure my father will never again raise his hand against Atalar?" she wanted to know, her voice growing steady again while she spoke. "If you go to my father, he maybe won't hit me again, but I just know that he will get furious about it and then it will be Atalar who suffers. I cannot let this happen."

"But..."

"No 'but'!" Aerilyn shot. "Do you want something to happen to my brother?!"

"No, of course not, but I cannot let your father get away with this!" he hissed. "I told you why."

"If you go now..." Aerilyn said, her breathing shivering slightly. Boromir could see that it wasn't easy for her to form the words and speak them out loud, but she did it, and they affected him. "Be aware that I will never forgive you if anything happens to my brother because of your interference into our family business."

He swallowed and looked at her for some silent moments until the meaning of her words had sunken in completely.

"Interference in your family business?" he repeated huskily. After clearing his throat he added: "I thought we are a family now... you and me and..."

His voice trailed of while he lightly brushed his fingertips over her still flat belly. When he wanted to withdraw again, she grabbed his hand with hers and gave it a tender, loving squeeze. When their gazes locked she said:

"Of course we are, Boromir. We are a family... you, me, and our yet unborn child. I didn't mean to hurt you, but... but Atalar is my family as well. Don't you understand my concern?"

"I do. I have a brother as well and I couldn't bear it if anything happened to him, either," Boromir said and then sighed deeply, a sign that he would bend to her wishes, even though he was itching to give Steward Ribensis a piece of his mind. Or, he thought bitterly, a blow of his fist.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," she said, genuinely grateful. "If something like this ever happens again, I promise that you will have my permission to -"

The rest of her sentence was stifled by a firm, but loving kiss and she made a small sound of surprise that was lost to the cave of Boromir's mouth.

"It won't happen again," he whispered against her lips. "Nothing will ever again happen to you. Not as long as you are with me, by my site."

"Then," she whispered back and softly kissed his warm lips, "I will be safe for eternity."

She felt him smile just before his mouth demanded another kiss, a more passionate one this time, and she leaned in to him, her body relaxing and her tears drying. She framed his face with her hands, at the same time caressing him tenderly and pulling him even closer.

"Do you hurt a lot?" Boromir asked with concern when they disconnected after a while of demonstrating their deep affection for each other. Instead of answering his question, she looked at him with wide, glittering eyes. Boromir watched the corners of her mouth curve up into a sweet smile, and the way she pressed her lips together revealed she was trying to suppress a chuckle.

"What is so funny?" he asked, bewildered. He doubted he would ever be capable of understanding or predicting her strange mood-swings.

"Your face..." Aerilyn said.

"What's with it?"

Without saying a word, Aerilyn lifted her hands, palms open towards him.

"Oh no..." Boromir muttered and wiped the sleeve of his shirt across his cheeks, but judging to her snicker it didn't help at all.

"Stop, you only make it worse!" Aerilyn shrieked and grabbed him by his forearms, then burst into short and light laughter when she eyed his face again.

"You are inky all over," she told him, a huge grin on her bruised face.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Boromir remarked, narrowing his eyes with feigned anger.

"No, no! That is not true!" Aerilyn protested, still grinning at him.

"Really?" he said, slowly and with an exaggeratedly dangerous undertone. "Do you know what we in Gondor do with little women who smear ink on other people's faces?"

"I assume nothing good," Aerilyn said and backed away with another snicker when he reached out for her, but he was too quick and swept her into his arms with a powerful motion. She squeaked when he picked her up from the floor and unsuccessfully tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

Boromir felt his heart blossom at the sound of her laughter. It was good to hear her like this, and when he leaned over her after flinging her on his bed, he had to pause for a moment to drink in the sight of her wide, open smile and shining, dark eyes.

"My, you are so beautiful like this. You should laugh more often," he said in a low, admiring voice and bent deeper down.

"So should you, my lord," she whispered just before their lips met again. She wanted to embrace him, but he caught her by the wrists and pinned her arms down on the bed.

"Keep those away from my face," he growled into the kiss, causing her to giggle again.

"What is going on in here?!" a harsh voice roared, making the lovers break away from each other's mouths with a start. Boromir turned around while Aerilyn hurried to get from the bed and straighten her dress, her face blushing deep crimson.

Denethor stood in the doorframe, his silent presence alone creating an intimidating, icy atmosphere.

"Father," Boromir said monotony. "I -"

"Shut up," Denethor interrupted, annoyed, and stepped into the room, his gaze glued to Aerilyn who quickly hid her ink-stained hands behind her back.

"It is late, young lady. You are supposed to be asleep by now, tomorrow will be a long day for the two of you."

"Yes, I'm on my way. Good night," Aerilyn said as politely as she could, dropped a curtsy to Denethor and quickly went past him to the door.

"And before you go to sleep, remove that ink from your hands, child," Denethor added just before she exited the room.

"I will," Aerilyn replied, blushing even more and then left silently, but not before casting a last, loving gaze towards Boromir who winked at her in response.

"You disappoint me greatly," Denethor said gravely after Aerilyn had vanished, and slowly stepped to the window of the room to let his tired gaze wander across the dark gardens outsides.

"I was merely giving solace to my betrothed," Boromir tried to explain.

"Oh yes, I could very well see that!" Denethor spat sarcastically and turned around to face his eldest son. "A fine sort of solace you have chosen there to give her."

Boromir opened his mouth to reply, but his father cut his words.

"You are in the houses of healing, Boromir! This is no brothel!"

"And Aerilyn is no whore," Boromir added calmly.

"Then stop treating her as such! Curb your desires! You will have her tomorrow night, is that not soon enough?! Besides, you have more important business to take care of right now. You have a war to lead, you do not have any time to dally and toy about."

"I know my duties, and be assured that I am not neglecting them in any respect."

Denethor only snorted about his son's remark and then added: "I only hope Steward Ribensis will not hear word about this. I doubt he would admire you for bedding his daughter before marrying the little thing."

"Her name is Aerilyn," Boromir said a little impatiently. He did not like the way his father talked about her. "And I did not bed her, I soothed her. I told you once already."

Denethor raised an eyebrow, a tiny, arrogant gesture that told more than a thousand words and always caused Boromir's blood to start boiling with fury. But he successfully suppressed his inner storm and spoke with a controlled voice when he asked: "Did you not notice her face?"

"Her father hit her," Denethor remarked, calmly.

"You know?" Boromir asked, struggling to keep his raging emotions inside. "You know and don't care?"

"It is not delightful that she will look like this on your wedding day, but the veil will hide most of it. The people won't see."

"The people won't see?" Boromir repeated, disgusted. "That is not what I meant."

"But it's what I meant," Denethor replied. "Everything else matters not. As for the slap itself... You should be glad that Steward Ribensis disciplines his daughter thoroughly. It will save you a lot of trouble."

Boromir wanted to respond to this unbelievable statement, but Denethor quickly rose one of his hands, a resolute gesture to silence his son.

"Now, now," he then said rapidly before Boromir could pick up the topic again. "I'll send for someone to clean your face from these ridiculous ink-stains... You look like a fool. When I'm back again you will show me what you have busied yourself with during the day. And get back to bed. The morning will bring a long and exhausting day to you."