I believe this will be the longest chapter, so don't despair! I don't like long chapters, either.
I don't own LotR
The next day, after Boromir had gotten his father's permission to leave the gates of the hall, he and Faramir exited the main path and cut along an alley. They had no desire to stay to the streets, thinking that this would be their only adventure. After a few minutes of the path, Boromir grew weary of the sameness and pulled Faramir onto the main road through the city. Few people passed, and none seemed to recognize them as the Steward's sons. Boromir found this to be great, and burst happily into the first shop he saw. It was a bakery, and Boromir bought a loaf of bread with the little money he had. Just as they set foot outside after a quick chat with the baker, Faramir tripped on the doorstep, falling flat on his face. Boromir quickly pulled his brother up, examining him for injury. His knees and hands were scraped, and his trousers were torn at the knees.
"I'm sorry, brother, I didn't mean to be so clumsy." Faramir apologized, almost crying. "Father will be so angry that I tore my clothes, he will never let us journey outside again!"
"Don't fret, Faramir, we'll get your trousers sewn." and Boromir led the boy back into the bakery.
"Pardon me, but would you know any seamstresses nearby?" he asked.
The baker chuckled.
"Had a spill, did you? Not to worry, I know just the place for you to go. I doubt the lady will be awake so early in the morning. Her daughter is sure to be up and about, though. You could try." and he told them directions to a widow who lived on the second level, along with the other displaced families, recent refugees from Osgiliath, which had experienced much turmoil in the last century. So the brothers set out at once, making their way slowly along the crowded streets.
The brothers stepped into the small hut, which above the door hung a sign: Hasunder's Linens, and the picture of a needle and thread carved into the thick block of wood. Inside was bright and airy despite the ancient, crumbling stone. Nobody was to be seen, only shelves full of all kinds of cloth and strings, and a wooden plank floor. A dark staircase led out of sight to the upstairs, where a little noise could be heard, like feet scuffling along the floorboards.
"Hello!" Boromir called out when no one appeared after a few minutes. A young girl (nearly immediately) bounded down the stairs.
"Co-ming!" she called, brushing a lock of brown hair out of her face. She swept around the banister and nearly leaped behind the counter. "How may I help you?" she asked and smiled. This apparently was the widow's daughter.
"I fell and I need my trousers fixed before I go home today." Faramir announced when Boromir failed to explain their plight right off, for he was blushing and cracking his knuckles in a nervous way.
"So, your pants need to be fixed, do they?" she asked. Faramir nodded. "Very well, what's your name?"
"Faramir, and this is my brother Boromir." Faramir replied.
"Very good, my name is Lothwyniel, but please just call me Wyniel. Now sit down here for just a minute, and I'll be right back!" and the she bounded back up the stairs, disappearing for a few minutes.
When she came back down she held in her arms a grey bundle. She handed the bundle to Faramir and led him to a small room. The grey bundle was a pair of trousers, which Faramir came back wearing, the hems far past his ankles and his ripped pants in his arms.
"A little long for you, eh?" Wyniel asked, and laughed. "Not to worry, this won't take but a minute." and she took a spindle of thread and sat right down on the hard wooden floor and set to work sewing up Faramir's pants.
"What brings you to these parts? I mean, I haven't seen you about at all." Wyniel stated, and glanced briefly upwards.
"We haven't been here lately, it's true, but we live nearby." Boromir choked out.
"Okay, keep your secrets," she laughed, and then started to sing. 'Where the green grass grows is where I wish to be, Either a rolling meadow for shore by the sea. To play and sing under the bright sun, never knowing what our happiness brings, but knowing we'll have fun!' she stopped. "I made that one up, couldn't you tell?" and she laughed.
"You have a beautiful laugh." Boromir couldn't believe he said it. Wyniel blushed.
"Thank you, Boromir." and she continued with her work. There was a few minutes of awkward silence, so Wyniel began to hum gently to herself.
She stopped, noticing that the brothers were staring at her. She giggled for a few seconds, then talked to Faramir about his favorite foods.
Soon Faramir's pants were stitched, and looked as though no patch was there.
"Father will not notice that they have been tampered!" cried Faramir joyously, and thanked Wyniel graciously. He strolled out of the store, singing under his breath. Boromir stayed behind for a few minutes.
"Wyniel," he called to her.
"Yes, Boromir?"
"N-never mind." Boromir hung his head and stepped onto the noisy street.