"Which one of you is Powen?"

"I am."

"You are supposed to be quite skilled with a needle and thread."

"Some might say that, sir"

"Indeed... Follow me."

Nine days had passed since I had last watched Lord Faramir in the courtyard. Since the time I thought he had seen me. What if he did see you, and now you are going to be punished? It didn't seem likely, as no one had ever heard of a servant being punished on orders from Lord Faramir, and even less people had heard of a servant being punished for looking at something by anyone, evan if that something was one of the Steward's sons. Still, as I followed the older servant who had come to fetch me, I had the oddest tingling sensation that this was not going to be a pleasant occurrence, wherever he was taking me.

He lead me out of the laundry area, and out through the servant's quarters until we came to a large hallway I'd never been to before, but I knew where we were. He was taking me up to the main part of the house. This meant that the man in front of me must be a personal servant...Which meant- Oh, sweet Eru, he had seen me there! And now he was going to ask me to explain myself. How was I going to get out of this? What if he has seen me there more than once? What am I going to do? What am I going to do!

Before it was too late to turn back, the man had stopped in front of a door at the end of a long hallway up a flight of stairs. My hands were now violently shaking, so I clenched them into balls, and did my best to cover them with my sleeves. The man knocked on the door, and a soft, muffled "Enter" had come from within the room. A fine mess you have gotten yourself into this time, Powen. I spat at myself, absolutely disgusted. they will ask you why you were there, and then they will laugh when you tell them. I wasn't nearly creative enough to come up with some clever lie that would get me out of it AND be feasible, so I was going to have to stick with the truth. I was so nervous, I felt like I was going to be sick. I had never before been the cause of trouble, and had never been called for punishment all my life, save from my mother or father...

The man pushed open the door, and held it open for me. I gave him a weak smile, and prayed that my face did not betray how nervous I was. I closed my eyes for a split second, and my optimistic nature began to kick in. Perhaps this is not Lord Faramir's room, I said. Though I didn't believe myself at all Perhaps you've been called to go somewhere else. They did ask if you were good with a needle and thread... But when I opened my eyes, my worst fears were confirmed. There, sitting on a large and comfortable looking bed, was the very man I had been watching fend off blows from his brother with the sword that hung by his waste. But instead of the scowl or frown I had been expecting, there was a friendly smile on his face. I did not think that I would be able to return the smile without screaming or running away, so I simply averted my eyes like my mother had always told me to, should I ever meet a member of the household we serve.

"Hello," said a friendly voice from near the place where Faramir was sitting. "I have been told that you are uncommonly skilled with a needle?" I dropped a low curtsey, and was amazed to see that I did not fall over.

"I do my best, M'Lord" I said in a small voice I didn't recognize as my own. I was still terrified of looking him in the eye, for fear of seeing that friendly smile give way to a stern scowl that so many people associated with Lord Faramir's father, Denethor.

"Excellent. Well, you see, I seem to have torn a shirt of mine, and I would not know where to begin to repair it. So I asked around, and it would seem that you are the one most people directed me to. Do you feel up to it?" I was so surprised that this actually had something to do with needles, and nothing with what I do after my shifts in the laundry room, that I looked up at him. The friendly smile seemed to be securely fancied, and this gave me courage. I gave him back a weak smile, and managed to do it without making the blush creeping on my face too apparent.

"Would you mind if I took a look at the shirt, M'Lord?" I asked quietly, still hesitant about rasing my voice. Faramir reached behind him, and produced the shirt, then handed it to me. It would not be a terribly difficult job, simply sew up a moderate sized tear near the shoulder. Yes, I could do this easily, even if my hands did shake every time I was reminded of to whom this shirt belonged.

"Shall I take this as a yes?" Faramir asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. Would I be allowed to say "no" even if I wanted to? I wondered, doing my best to contort my facial features into a smile.

"Of course, M'Lord" I said, giving a curtsey that I made sure was more graceful than the first. "When would you like it finished by?"

"Whenever you manage to get it done," he said with a wave of his hand "I am in no hurry to get it back." He smiled at me once more, then turned to the man who had brought me here. "You can take her back now, would not want for you to get into trouble for my sake." I gave a final curtsey, then followed the man out of the room, clutching the shirt so hard my knuckles had turned white. The man lead me back to the washing rooms, and back to my own wash tub.

"Have it finished in three days," he said curtly"Call for me when you're done." And with that, he left the room, just as I was about to ask his name.

"But I don't know who you are!" I called after him, then gently placed the shirt on a bench away from the wash tubs, and with a shrug of my shoulders, went back to work.

A/N: Oh Ho! SO the plot thickens! Anyway, hope you liked that. No one's reviewed the last chapter since I've last checked, but that's okay, I'll keep writing anyway. Thanks for reading!