Chapter Two

Boromir, son of Denethor II, Steward to the High King of Gondor and arguably one of the most important figures in both Gondor and Rohan, woke up and could not have told a passer by what month he was in.

Luckily he was in the private guest suite, alone, and nobody was allowed to just walk in and see Denethor's heir strewn about in just his breeches with his face pressed against the mattress at the end of the bed.

First his eyes opened, and then his leg twitched.

Perhaps a minute later his head jerked up and he rolled over onto his back and focused his now open eyes onto the ceiling; then groaned. At that exact moment, his younger brother burst through the doors and, seeing his brother's condition, quickly closed them after he entered.

'Boromir, ye gods!' he exclaimed, and was instantly at his brother's side. 'You look like death itself…how much ale did you down last night?'

'Where are we?' Boromir asked instead of answering, and Faramir pursed his lips and slapped a warm hand on his brother's bare shoulder.

'Rohan…Theoden's home…' he tried to gently bring the memories back into his brother's bleary mind, and Boromir nodded groggily, then settled back into the feather stuffed mattress and closed his eyes once more.

Faramir shook him again. 'Brother, you'll miss breakfast.'

'I would not care if I missed the return of the King, brother,' he tried to move away from the younger man's hands. 'I want to sleep..'

Faramir slid his strong arms around his brother's chest from behind and heaved him out of the blankets; he earned a yelp and several idol threats from the soldier and grinned despite the effort he was putting into reviving his brother. Eventually he accomplished the task of getting Boromir to balance long enough to stand, and handed him a fresh pare of strong, brown leather pants and a simple red shirt with black stitches and long sleeves. Boromir groggily began to dress.

'And hurry, Boromir, because at midday Eomer and Theodred have requested that we go hunting with them.'

'The men?'

'They have left for Gondor.'

Boromir arched one of his brows and regarded his brother lazily with his eyes; they appeared green now in the early morning light. 'Without their captains?'

'We are on leave, you could say.' Faramir replied without looking at him, his own eyes looking over the green fields and plains of Rohan in all it's morning brilliance. Faramir enjoyed their visits to Rohan so much more than Boromir did, and for all the opposite reasons: the sky, the smell of the grass, the people – Boromir liked hunting the game that roamed it's plains and especially having Eomer and the younger soldiers look up to him. 'We are to return in a fortnight. Departing in two nights on the third morning should give us a fair start.' Then he turned to his brother and smirked. 'Assuming of course, that you can heave your hide out of bed yourself.'

Boromir pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it neatly into the pants, then winked at his little brother. 'I will do it just for you, my dear Faramir.' His reply was dripping his sarcasm, and it made Faramir laugh. He ran his hands absently through his hair and followed Faramir out of his room, nodding politely to the maidens that scurried in after to make his bed and do the daily cleaning.

The smell of sizzling bacon and cooked potatoes filled the air, and Boromir's mouth watered. Faramir led him to a table where Eomer and a few other Riders sat, laughing and speaking of the night before. The heir of

Rohan's cousin lit up as though first noticing them and grinned widely.

The table was lined with four other Riders: Heath, the eldest Rider; a tall man with grey hair and a short grey beard. Selmit, Henglo and Rontyr sat on Eomer's left.

'There he is – the man of the hour.' the other Riders laughed and Boromir swept a mocking bow before taking a seat. 'We were beginning to think you had been slain by the arrows of an Orc, you were gone so long.'

'An Orc?' Boromir repeated quizzically. 'The effects of the ale must not have left you yet, Eomer. You speak nonsense.'

'Not necessarily, brother, your room is facing in the same direction of the Dark Land.' Faramir put his goblet to his lips and sipped, then continued, 'And the wide viewing window makes it easy for anything to see you, the tempting target.'

'Aye, tempting indeed.' Eomer agreed, and laughed at the same time as moving his braid behind his shoulder. The smallest hints of facial hair and began to appear on his chin and above his upper lip. 'Any Orc that slew the heir to the Stewards of Gondor would collect a nice prize.'

'And what is that?' Heath, the older Rider inquired.

'A sword in the gullet.' Boromir responded, and smirked at Eomer. The younger man grinned at him and excitement sparked in his eyes – plans of the hunt clearly reflected in them. Boromir shook his head – in so many ways, Eomer was a boy in a man's body.

Faramir laughed loudly at his brother's last comment. 'A sword in the gullet?! Ha! You would be lucky to get a glimpse of what had hit you, Boromir. You sleep like the dead!' To the Riders at the table, Denethor's youngest said, 'This morning I found him sprawled like a corpse, and breathing just as quietly as one. I'm telling you, lads, he would never know what hit him.'

Somewhere between the wild laughter and the striking of the hour, one of the kitchen servants wandered over and bowed respectfully. 'Lords Boromir and Faramir, your breakfast.' They were brought several large biscuits and eggs, which they finished in less time than it took to set it on the table.

Theodred strode in clad in his full hunting attire and still armed when he reached the table. He received nods and a few mummers in greeting, but focused purely on his cousin and his two guests.

'Good morning, Boromir, Faramir.' he nodded to Eomer. 'Cousin. Are you all well rested?'

'Aye, prince, it was the best sleep I have had since I left for Rohan.' Faramir answered before Boromir had the chance, and topped it off with a charming smile. 'My brother could not agree more.'

'Good, good. I'm eager to start the hunt. Can I expect you all in an hour?'

Eomer looked to his Riders and guests, then back to his cousin. 'Aye, Theodred. An hour. Will we be using your grounds or mine?'

'Mine, of course.' He offered a wide smile and clapped his hands together, and the escorts that flanked him jumped at the loud noise. 'An hour it is. I'll leave you to your conversations, then.' Theodred began to back up before exiting, and waved a hand one last time. 'Remember, an hour!'

'An hour.' Boromir repeated, waiting for the heir of Theoden to turn before turning back to the Riders. 'I do not think I have ever seen him happier.'

'He has always loved hunting.' Eomer replied quietly, leaning forward on the table before getting to his feet to leave. 'If we are to be ready in an hour, we had better start now. See you all at midday.'

--- --- ---

Eowyn smoothed her cornflower dress and wrapped her arms about her. It was a chilly morning around Edoras and Eowyn quickly reached up to the peg on her walls and slid into her brown riding habit, ran quick hands through her masses of golden hair to unbraid it, and then smoothed it down her back.

She had requested that breakfast be brought up to her that morning, so when it was finally prepared she sat down at the small table by her window and began to absently pick at the neatly prepared food in her plate; chewing slowly while gazing out the window.

A smile came to her lips and she inhaled softly when her brother walked out to the court below her window. She had not seen him, aside from the party, for roughly two months and had missed his company greatly.

He had made a promise to spend the day with her and take her riding, and if time would allow, spar with her. The love between the brother and sister of Edoras never wavered, but was often tested with time and the gap of their ages.

Eomer was only four years older than she, but ever since her fourteenth year he had been very protective of her.

One of her pale brows rose when she saw four horses being led out into the inner court. Various servants saddled them up and were taking them for light warm up paces around the near the gate, and three or four minutes later, her brother, Theodred and Denethor's sons wandered out. Six or eight hounds were at their heels. Hunting hounds.

Eowyn shot from her chair and it made the servant in the back of her room jump. The old woman asked, tentivly,

'Is everything alright, M'Lady?'

Eowyn looked at the woman blankly, then asked, 'Did Prince Theodred organize a hunt today?' she looked back through the window where the four men talked while their horses were checked. Her fist tightened around her fork, and the voice in the back of the room replied,

'Aye, the prince wanted to have a day of leave before Lord Boromir and his brother had to depart Rohan.'

Eowyn made an audible noise that let the room (empty other than herself and the servant) know her anger, and dropped her fork on her plate. Before leaving, she corrected the woman, 'He is not Lord of Gondor yet!'

She spun on her heel and sent the skirt of her dress twirling about her legs as she quickly moved out her door, down the wide set of winding stairs, through the mess hall and past the throne room, and into the inner

courtyard. She wasted no time in speeding up to meet her brother, who seemed to be deep in conversation with Faramir.

The older man was nodding and grunting replies every now and then, but his pale eyes fell on Eowyn's face, and he smiled at her. When Eomer had paused to take a breathing break, Faramir quickly excused his own interruption and said, 'Eomer, we have company.' he smiled at her and gave a faint inclination of his head. 'Lady.'

Eowyn smiled politely back and bowed quickly by bending her waist a fraction of an inch (ladies were expected to curtsy, but Eowyn did not have the patience and was not in the mood to put on her best lady act), then seized her brother's arm and pulled him aside from the other men.

'You promised me this day would be ours, brother.' her tone was calm and even – Eowyn may have been disappointed but had not lost her self-control. 'Will you spend your only full day with me on a hunt?' Eomer's strong arms hung loosely at his sides and he found nothing to do but stammer an apology.

'I am sorry, Eowyn,' he gathered her up in his arms and gave her an affectionate squeeze that made her redden. She did not mind her brother openly showing he cared for her, but not in front of the prince and the lords-to-be of Gondor; but she allowed him to place a gentle kiss on her temple before pulling away. 'Perhaps in the mid-afternoon we can arrange something – even if it is just a walk in the garden..'

'Why does your sister not join us on the hunt?' Both brother and sister turned to meet the eyes of Theodred, who was attaching a quiver to the saddle of his steed. The prince offered again, 'What say you, Eowyn? No need to stay locked in your room all day with only the walls to humor you.'

'Yes, sister, come with us! We could have a horse prepared for you in no time and you could tell me everything that has happened in my absence as we ride.' Eomer exclaimed in fresh energy and excitement, and the boyish twinkle in his eyes returned. Eowyn was forced to smile at the sight of him.

Boromir gave a hard laugh at Eomer's enthusiastic approach and Faramir put in, 'It has been long since we have had the pleasure of your company, and it will be again once we leave.'

Eowyn exhaled in resignation, but once again put on an appealing smile. 'If you all insist, then I fear I lack the choice in the matter.'

'Wonderful! Prentide, prepare a horse for the Lady Eowyn. Make haste, the sun is climbing.' Theodred ordered the servant that finished walking Boromir's steed, and peered up into the midday sky. The sun shone down from its highest angle and Eowyn's shoulders became warm in the gentle light. She could do nothing but wait for a horse and join the men in their favorite pastime.

'Do you enjoy hunting, Lady?'

Eowyn had made her way over to her brother's horse and was stroking it's mane affectionately, but looked up at the sound of Boromir's voice. She smiled a little and shrugged her thin shoulders nonchalantly before turning her gaze back to the oak hued horse. 'Only when it rains, Captain.'

'When it rains?'

'Yes, when it rains.' she did not look at him. 'When it rains it is easier for the poor beasts to hide, and give them an advantage over their hunters.'

'You enjoy a challenge, then?' Theodred inquired with a bit of a smile as a horse was lead to his cousin.

'I enjoy watching deer escape the weapons of Men.'

Theodred laughed and gave Eomer a hard nudge in the ribs, but Boromir just gazed at her quizzically.

'I did not expect that from a shield maiden.' he moved closer to her and clasped his arms at the small of his back. Eowyn let her head rest against the horses neck and regarded him quietly through cool grey eyes.

Then he asked something she should have seen coming, 'Can you still hold a sword?'

Eowyn gave a lazy laugh and blinked slowly as the wind began to pick up. 'Of course I can.'

'I feel wrong challenging a lady, but for you I could make an exception.' he moved both hands to his hip and drew his sword, then handed it to her hilt first. 'That is, if can you manage the weight.' Eowyn reached for it, her bare fingers lightly brushing his before he released the hilt with one hand, but still held it. His brows went up, 'Can you?'

'That is hard to determine with you supporting it, is it not, Boromir?' Boromir's smile widened and he unwrapped his fingers from the leather bound handle, and Eowyn had to use all her strength to hold it steady with one arm, but she managed. With a smile of her own, she said, 'Are you satisfied?'

'Not yet, Lady.' he replied, and Eowyn felt a tinge of irritation spike into her stomach with his words. 'Not yet.'

'Lady Eowyn, if I may say so, it looks as though you have opened up a new side to our Boromir.' Theodred pointed out, resting his hand on the taller man's shoulder. 'He usually shows no interest in women – only in battle and business.'

'You're not the only one of us to notice, prince Theodred.' Faramir laughed, but his tone was not at all amused. He looked his brother straight in the eyes that time, and Boromir gazed straight back. After a minute of laughter from Eomer and Theodred, Faramir spoke once more. 'Ah – I left my…belt…in the stables. Brother, will you help me find it?'

Everyone looked at Faramir with puzzled eyes. Theodred wondered, 'Your belt? Why was your belt even off in the stables?'

Faramir's face reddened at his own foolish excuse, but he pulled his brother roughly fifty feet to the side and inquired, 'What has possessed you, brother?' he whispered so not to be heard. 'I hardly recognize you!' When Boromir was silent, Faramir's face relaxed into a knowing expression. 'It is Lady Eowyn, isn't it?'

'I wish you would stop your assumptions, brother.' Boromir snapped back. 'You know I take no care to women or marriage or foolish dreams of love – why do you pester me so?'

Faramir bowed his head. 'I am sorry, Boromir, I just…' he shrugged, absently looking at Lady Eowyn's horse as it was lead to the prince. 'I do not want you to torment her, or tease her. She is solemn and dignified, and I do not see her as the type to enjoy it –'

'I have tormented no-one, Faramir.' The future Steward replied, and his brother pursed his lips skeptically at him. Boromir drew his brows. 'Well…maybe in the slightest bit, but…if you wish it I will stop if only to satisfy you.'

Faramir smiled, and his light eyes focused on Eowyn. 'Thank you, brother.' With a tilt of his head, he murmured, 'She seems to sad, does she not? As if there is something that is eating at her and she will not tell anyone.'

Boromir did not have the chance to reply before Faramir said, 'And I do not mind if you one day decide to marry. I just do not want heartache for you. You are proud and think only of battle, and most women are wistful and think only of love.'

Boromir slapped his brother's cheek lightly. 'You will worry yourself to death. Come.'

--- --- ---

Into the winding tunnels of a cave only two leagues from Edoras, Lúpeg of Mordor's dark forces, second in command to Gúlwor, silently made his way to where his fell brethren lay dormant and waiting for his word.

His booted feet shuffled nosily on the dirt ground and his armor clanked against his body, and after some time he made his way to the clearing with the roaring fire in the center, and Gúlwor standing menacingly in front of the troop of Orcs he was trying to keep silent.

'Gúlwor they have not tracked us. Their armies have been headed to their city for two days and have not detected us.' Lúpeg snapped his head around to look behind him with wide eyes, then licked his lips in anticipation. 'Do we attack when the sun leaves?'

'Quiet you fool, have you a pig's brain?! You may be heard!' Gúlwor spat, and rose a hand in silent threat. Lúpeg avoided any injury from his superior, but Gúlwor was not looking at him anymore. 'When dusk hits the sky we make the charge. Kill as many as possible before your own pathetic lives end so there will be food tonight for those of us that have the strength to take on the enemy! Do you wish to eat or do you wish to starve?!'

An affirmative reply moved through the crowd in a low growl and few of them stomped their feet. Saliva flowed at the mention of food and the implication of ripping a man's meat from his bones, but no other sounds were made. After a moment, Gúlwor began again,

'We shall have a new goal this time: because the Riders are tough and bitter, we are going to try and capture the women and their spawns. Their flesh is tender, so let that be our goal. To breech the mighty gates of Edoras!'

'How could it be that they have not seen us?!' a rough voice roared from the corner of the dank shadows in the cave, and it lacked all confidence. 'If you have lied to us, Gúlwor – '

'The fools are celebrating! Even the scouts have begun to cut slack in their watches, and they suspect nothing!' A gleeful voice, this time, shouted out and an uproar of laughter and more stomping echoed about the domed grey walls of the cave. Gúlwor drew his blade and struck a blow into the side of Lúpeg's unguarded head as an example to the rest of the undisciplined Orcs and only received a roar of pain from his victim.

Lúpeg, however, silenced himself with the rest of the Orcs.

Gúlwor held his hands and blade up and all eyes focused on him once more. His voice was low but dangerous, cruel and meaningful. 'If their scouts should hear us than surprise will no longer be working with us and we shall lose our necks, fools! We will be found and destroyed like the others, so keep quiet!' To Lúpeg, who was ignoring his new injury, he said, 'Come with me, you.'

The journey to the very edge of the cave was a quick but difficult one, and when it was finally reached the two fell beasts still had to duck away in the shadows to avoid their bane; the sun. Gúlwor seized the shoulder guard of Lúpeg's armor and pulled him up to the same eye level as he, both Orcs looking out to the sunlit world.

'Do you see the tree line?'

'Yes.'

'It remains barely a league in width and length.' Gúlwor's yellow teeth were clenched as strategies ran through his mind, and finally he jutted a brown arm out to direct the other's view. 'We go into them at dusk and travel to the edge quietly,' he stressed the last word before continuing, 'to Edoras. You will take half of this rabble and I will take half; at nightfall we split and attack from both the east and the west.'

'Why do we not just attack as one and take them with our strength?!' Lúpeg dared a harsh tone, but Gúlwor silenced his with a cuff. The Orc held back a howl of pain, and his superior once again turned his gaze back to the outside.

'You are a gutless pig indeed, fool! That is what killed the first wave several days ago; we must strategize.'

Lúpeg glowered at Gúlwor with contempt, still keeping a fist over the new cut on his face, and began to retreat inside the cave. 'You are a fool that relies too heavily on your mind. The Orc are here to kill!'

'And kill is what we will do, Lúpeg.' the Orc reached back and dug his fingers into the other's flesh, pulling him back at his side. 'Stay here and watch for dusk.'

--- --- ---

From saddle to dismount, Eowyn had been on the hunting trip for nearly four hours and was exhausted to say the least. On her way up the long stairway she reached down to remove her light shoes and carry them the rest of the way up to her chambers. The hunt had not been nearly as boring and dull as she thought it had been, and it had given her a chance to speak with her brother. Eomer had been happy to have time with her, but she could tell that their months apart were only drawing them further and further from eachother.

She missed her brother, terribly, but even worse she missed their childhood. Things had changed so drastically for Eomer when he reached his fifteenth year, and that was when they began to drift.

'Lady Eowyn, King Theoden wishes you to dine with him this evening.'

Eowyn gracelessly spun around to meet the dark eyes of her uncle's advisor, Grima Wormtongue. Her skin prickled a bit and she hid her arms behind her back so he could not see her discomfort. Without a word, she gave a polite nod, but his eyes drew speech from her. Eowyn, however, was stronger than she appeared and spoke firmly,

'Why, pray, did he send you? You are his advisor, not his messenger.' Eowyn stated plainly, and Grima's eyes lingered on her a moment before he replied. His voice was soft and dared Eowyn to look away, but she did not.

'I am the King's servant in every way, Lady.' Grima bowed humbly and began to back off. 'That includes favors not covered in the description of my duty. Excuse me.' With one last look, one that made Eowyn clench her fists behind her back, he retreated down the stair and she did not move until he was from her sight.

'Eomer.' She said her brother's name as if to call out to him, but her voice seemed to stay inside her throat and barely made out below a whisper. She forced herself to continue up the stairs. Less than half an hour later she returned in one of her more finespun dresses and quickly glided back down the staircase and recited her apologies for being late in her head. The long table in Theoden's dining hall was not full as it usually

was. It only seated his son, her brother and the sons of Denethor. Her brother shot to his feet and quickly made his way over.

'Eowyn you look exhausted!' he exclaimed, gently taking one of her arms and guiding her to the table. She took her seat and smiled at the King, who in return smiled back.

'Did the men bore you so greatly, Eowyn?' He inquired with a good grace, and Eowyn laughed in return.

'Nay, I enjoyed the sun and the air.' she answered, but made sure to give Boromir a look. 'Though I would have been more comfortable if the captain would not have shot at everything that moved this afternoon.' Denethor's eldest did not return her smile, rather he was looking in the corner at Grima blankly.

Perhaps he was the only one that noticed the look in the other man's eyes.