I always say that I won't write anymore Lord of the Rings fanfics for awhile, and just concentrate on finishing what I've started, but here I go again! Hahaha. I'm just incorrigible, aren't I?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything Lord of the Rings, or Middle Earth, or Tolkien. Boohoo for me.

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CHAPTER 1 : Forging Friendships

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Aislin opened her eyes, and yawned as she watched the sunrise. Yet another day. Aislin was definitely not a morning person, but that never stopped her mother from waking her up every morning at dawn, until she began to wake up at that time herself. Well, there was no use lying around, and she got out of bed with another yawn and automatically began to fold her blankets.

As expected, her mother was already up and about, making breakfast for everyone. "Good morning, Aislin. Would you watch the kettle, please?"

Aislin nodded and sat down in front of the kettle, watching the flames dancing at its base. Her mother then picked up her basket to go to the marketplace, leaving Aislin sitting in silence in the kitchen all by herself. Her father would be returning from his night duty soon enough, and then they would eat together before her father got some sleep. It was a routine they all followed everyday, until her father was switched to the daytime duties again. It was a simple but comfortable life, and Aislin did not have many complaints.

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After breakfast Aislin picked up the laundry basket and sat outside the house washing clothes. She really didn't like washing clothes. She didn't like her hands shrivelling up. But of course she had to wash the clothes, and learn to be a proper woman who could do household chores, or what kind of wife would she be? Her mother seemed to have dedicated her life to making her daughter a perfect type of wife. "I was married at sixteen," she always said when Aislin complained.

And of course it didn't help that Aislin was already sixteen, and there had never been any boy or man who had taken an interest in her.

She stood up, stretching, then gathered the clothes, hanging them on the clothesline. Just then, someone streaked by, and promptly tripped over her laundry basket, falling flat on his face at her feet. She stared down at that head of light brown hair, not very sure what to do. The boy got to his feet quickly. "I'm really, really sorry." he began to say, red creeping up into his face. "I really should have watched where I was going."

Aislin continued to stare at him. There was a red patch on his forehead, and she knew that it was definitely going to be turning into a bruise. Finally, she shook herself. "It's all right, you didn't do me any harm. I'm not sure about you, though. That has the potential to being a huge bruise."

The boy touched the red spot gingerly and winced. "Yes. I think you're right."

Suddenly Aislin grabbed his wrist, pulling him into the house. "Well, since you know it too, we might as well get some ointment on it before it swells up, don't you think?"

He began to protest, but she refused to listen to him, and so he was reduced to following her, and sat down obediently when she ordered him to. She went into the kitchen to look for the ointment. Her mother was nowhere in sight, probably cleaning the bedrooms.

"Faramir!" She heard her father's cry of surprise.

Faramir? Where? She hurried out of the kitchen, expecting a surprise visitor. What she saw was her father standing before the boy, his eyes widened in surprise.

That boy is Faramir? He had stood up to greet her father, but was sitting rubbing the bump on his head.

"What's happened to you?" her father asked, trying to hide his smile.

Faramir turned red again, and Aislin couldn't help but laugh. "He was running, and tripped over my laundry basket," she explained, stepping forward with the ointment. "Now, you just sit still. It's going to hurt, but you'll thank me for it later."

She rubbed the ointment onto the spot, and Faramir bit his lip, trying not to complain. Her father just stood and watched, seeming very amused by it all. "Really, Faramir, I thought you very careful," he finally burst out, unable to contain himself any longer.

"Well, sir, I was. I mean. I am. late in reporting to my father. He would definitely not be pleased." Faramir shuddered for a moment, and Aislin knew that it wasn't because of his injury; she was already keeping the ointment. She had heard that Denethor was a strict man and allowed little room for mistakes; did Faramir fear him that much? Noticing that she was done, Faramir gave her a smile. "I thank you, miss. I really have to be going now, or I will be in greater trouble than I already am going to be in." He gave her father a little bow, and started to walk out of the house. He walked fast, but Aislin noted that he did not run.

Her father went to the bedroom, no doubt to get the much-deserved sleep he needed, and Aislin decided to follow Faramir, since she had already finished her chores. She stepped out of the house and hurried up the road to catch up with him. She almost had to break into a run; he walked fast.

He was surprised to see her. "Yes, may I help you?" he asked, not altering his pace, so she had to half-run next to him.

"I just thought I'd follow you up to your father's hall. I've finished my chores for this morning, and a walk would do me some good."

Faramir nodded and smiled. "You've helped me today, and I have no even asked your name. I'm sorry, that's incredibly rude of me."

"Well, nothing's stopping you from asking me now."

"In that case. what is your name?"

Aislin returned his warm smile. She liked this boy. All right, so she had no right to call him a boy, he was a few months older than she. "My name is Aislin."

Faramir opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when someone called for him. Both of them turned to see a tall man walking towards them. His hair was slightly darker, but he bore some resemblance to Faramir (or perhaps, Faramir to him). Aislin knew immediately that this man must be Boromir, Faramir's brother, and also the future Steward of Gondor.

Boromir came up to them. "Faramir, where have you been? I've been looking for you! You had better hurry, or Father would be after you again." He frowned. "What happened to your head?"

Faramir shook his head. "Father is always after me. I'll never get out of trouble." He turned to Aislin. "I have to leave you now. This is my brother Boromir. Boromir, would you please walk Aislin back home? She did me a great favour. I will tell you of it later." He turned and was gone before anyone could say more. That just left Boromir to do as his brother had requested.

"What great service did you do my brother?" he asked in curiosity.

Aislin grinned at him. "Well, sir, I believe your brother had said that he would tell you of it later, and so you just have to be patient, don't you think?"

Boromir laughed and nodded. "Well, I suppose I shall."