A/N: ifbookswerefood-i'dbefat: Thanks so much! Yes I love the original story so I wanted to keep it the same as much as possible, just adding Boromir back into the mix. Sorry about the name change. She'll go by Daphnaie exclusively now so hopefully the confusion will ware off. And about Boromir not trusting her, it's because he thinks her whole story is a cover. He doesn't believe that she gave up immortality and what-not for him.. at least not yet;)

Once again thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter, it's very motivating. Those of you who are following this story but have yet to write a review, don't be shy;) Anyways let's get back to our lovely couple..

Chapter 6:

Leofric led Daphnaie in silence down a long dimly lit passage in the opposite direction of where Godwine took Boromir. She felt nervous being separated from him, but was soon distracted by the intricate tapestries lining the walls. She kept stopping to take a closer look at ones that caught her eye. They were just so detailed! She found them fascinating. Perhaps when she had finished helping Boromir she could come back here and learn the art.

One picture in particular stood at to her as she viewed them all one by one. It was a man defending some stronghold, standing atop a mound of bodies and surrounded by enemies, but no fear marred his features. A light seemed to shine on him and he stood proudly holding up a banner emblazoned with a galloping horse. With blood stained armor and golden hair flying free in the wind, he looked every bit the warrior. The image brought Boromir to mind. Blast! Did she think of nothing but that man?

"Who is that?" She stopped and pointed to the soldier in the picture. Leofric stopped and turned. Seeing what she was pointing to, he smiled. It was a warm, friendly smile, and the effect was very comforting.

"That," he said walking back over to her, "is Helm Hammerhead, ninth King of Rohan."

"He must have been a great man," She said, making no attempt to hide her awe.

"Yes, my lady he was indeed. He defended our stronghold Helms Deep even unto his death." She stayed silent for a moment. He looked at her expectantly as if waiting for more questions but began walking down the passage again when she offered none. When she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the image, she found he had gone on without her and walked quickly to catch up with him. He did not look at her when she reached his side, but the corners of his mouth turned up.

"You look like him," she finally said. His head swung over to look at her in shock, and he quickly started laughing as if this small observation had provided him much mirth.

"That's not one I've heard before," he managed to get out between chuckles.

"What do you mean?" She asked bemused, his infectious laughter bringing a small smile to her lips.

"Well, my appearance is the source of some amusement for the rest of the men." She looked him up and down. He seemed handsome enough to her. His face colored at her inspections. "I mean—it is because of my fair skin," he said in a rush. "You see, we ride quite often and most of the men will turn as brown as these wooden walls after so long a time in the sun, but I stay just as pale as parchment."

He reached up to scratch the back of his head and laughed nervously. "So to go from being taunted endlessly by the men, to being likened to one of the greatest men in Rohan's history by a traveler, particularly a traveler as lovely as yourself…well, it is just quite the change. That's all." She was barely listening to him anymore. Had he really called her lovely?

'He was probably just being kind,' a small voice in her head said. She had to agree with the voice. She was filthy and her clothes did not fit quite right. Surely he did not find her dull skin and muddy eyes lovely. But when she looked up and saw he was stilling smiling down at her, another small voice said 'perhaps he really does.' For some reason, this thought terrified her. She looked back down quickly and stared at her feet. From the corner of her eye, she saw him stop in front of one of the many large doors lining the passage.

"Ah. Here we are, Lady Eowyn's room. Feel free to wear any one of her dresses to dinner, and another pair of riding pants and a tunic will be brought to you just as soon as some appropriate ones can be found. I'm afraid we do not get many women around these parts who like to wear trousers," he said with a wink. "I will return shortly with some warm water." Leofric left abruptly without waiting for her reply.

She took a moment to look about the room. It was spacious and quite nice if not overly luxurious, not quite what she expected for the virtual daughter of the king. Only the fine gowns and fur-lined cloaks in the wardrobe spoke of wealth. She examined the dresses for an appropriate one to wear to dinner. Her heart longed for her to dress in the loveliest, most extravagant one. She was quite used to extravagance. Vána, who grew the most beautiful gardens in Valinor and was the Valar friendliest to her, was nothing if not profligate in her dressing of the forest. Vána would visit Daphnaie on occasion and the loveliest trail of flowers would always spring up from her footsteps. Daphnaie always felt Vána created too much beauty in the forest for any mortal to truly appreciate. How she missed it… rousing herself from these depressing thoughts of her old life, Daphnaie resumed her browsing of the dresses.

As the gowns did not belong to her, she felt it would be…inappropriate for her to select one of the more lavish ones, opting instead for a simple white one with a scoop neck and long tight sleeves. The body of the dress hung off her, rather like a sack till she tied a belt about the waste. She observed the completed outfit in the tall mirror leaning against the wall beside the wardrobe and deemed it acceptable. She removed the dress and laid it out atop the bed until she had washed off. A knock sounded at the door just as she finished sliding into a delicate blood red robe.

"I have the water for you my lady," she heard Leofric call from the hallway.

"Enter," she responded. Leofric walked into the room carrying a large bucket of steaming water. He nearly dropped it when he saw what she was wearing. He managed to hold onto it but some water splashed over the side coating his hand. He hissed in pain and quickly set the bucket down just inside the door. She rushed over to him and made to grab his injured hand.

"Are you alright?" she asked worried. She leaned right up against him in an effort to see the damage. He jerked his hand away, looking more and more uncomfortable.

"I'm fine. It was just a little hot, that's all. Here, let me put this in the bathroom." He picked up the bucket off the floor and carried it to the bathroom, keeping his eyes carefully averted from her. She did not move from her place by the door. What was wrong with him? The sounds of water being poured into a tub carried out from the bathroom and soon after Leofric emerged still looking quite flustered. "Everything is ready for you, so I will take my leave. My lady." He bowed slightly and hastily made his way to the door. She thought there must be something very interesting about the floor from the way he stared at it.

"Leofric, wait!" He stopped with one foot out the door.

"Yes?" He replied without turning.

"Will you escort me to dinner when it is ready?" His lips were set in a grim line when he turned to face her.

"My lady, I do not know what the men are like where you come from, but here in Rohan soldiers have more honor than this." What? Was it taboo for a man to escort a woman to dinner? Or perhaps just improper for a soldier to escort a woman of her standing—which is to say a woman of no standing. She attempted to mollify him.

"Please I…I did not mean to offend."

"Offend? Oh, I am not offended." He gave her a hard look. "But you would do well to remember that men here are not so easily seduced." Seduced! What on earth? Were all men completely dimwitted or was in just her lot in life to be thrown in with all of the senseless ones?

" What? But I wasn't—what in the name of Eru are you talking about?" That she did not simply confirm his accusations as correct seemed to surprise him. He walked back into the room, closing the door behind him.

"That robe!" He gestured at the thin red fabric she had wrapped about her. "It was clearly designed for the sole purpose of enticing me! And when you leaned up against me before when the water—" He held up his burnt hand as if it were all the proof in the world but quickly steered away from that thought. "And—and then you asked me to escort you! You mean to tell me you were not trying to lure me to your bed?" She almost laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. Almost. In a fury she yelled,

"Of course not! What kind of woman do you take me for?" She took a few deep breaths and tried to explain herself calmly. "I put this robe on because it was clean and the clothes I came in are filthy. And I asked you to escort me to dinner because I am afraid I do not know where dinner will be held." They just stared at each other for a long moment. He appeared to deflate before her eyes. Even the tips of his ears turned red with embarrassment. He seemed at a loss for words.

"Forgive me my lady. I—" As usual, her anger died almost as soon as it had come.

"It is alright. No harm done. Return in a few minutes and take me to dinner and we can call it even. Fair?" She said with a sigh, hoping that if she ignored the awkwardness and embarrassment she felt, it would fade away. A relieved smile lit up his face.

"More than fair my lady." He turned to leave once more.

"Oh! and Lefric?"

"Yes?" he answered, rather timidly. She hesitated.

"Perhaps we should keep this…misunderstanding between us. Yes?" Amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"Alas, for I wanted to share the tale with the whole troop. Very well then, if that is your wish." She smiled at him and closed the door as he walked away.

With a relaxed sigh she slid into the bath tub. Twenty minutes in the Golden hall and she'd already caused quite the scandal. All of that because of a silly red robe? Men were so completely ridiculous sometimes. If she had wanted to seduce him, she would have—well she did not know what she would have done but she certainly would have come up with something a tad cleverer than a robe for goodness' sake. And anyway she had no interest in seducing him! She barely knew the man.

As much as she wanted to rest comfortably in the warm water for a while, she new Leofric would be returning soon and Valar forbid she not be completely dressed when he arrived. She quickly scrubbed off all of the dirt that had accumulated on her skin and in her hair over the last several days, and then stood to dry herself off. She groaned when she saw herself in the mirror. She had browned in the sun, quite a bit. Boromir had described for her the tan skin of the Easterlings, and she imagined she could walk amongst them and disappear. She also had…freckles. She might as well be diseased! There they were, easily visible, crisscrossing along her nose and cheeks. The nerve of her skin.

She threw her dress over her head in a huff and braided her dark hair in one long braid down her back.

"Are you dressed Lady Daphnaie?" She heard a voice call from the hallway. She opened the door in response. Leofric just stared for a moment, then he remembered himself and smiled that curious smile of his.

"Dinner is this way." His arm rose slightly as if he was going to offer it to her, but he seemed to think better of it and just turned for her to follow. They walked down the passageway, back out into the Hall and through another door into a spacious room with a long table in the center. Boromir was already seated next to Godwine with six other men all eating some sort of stew. She took a seat next to Boromir and Leofric sat across from her. Boromir leaned over to her as she sat down.

"Took you long enough," he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes at him. She took a moment to observe him as he joined back into the conversation with the other men. This was the first time she had seen him not covered in blood and filth, and she had to admit…he cleaned up nicely. He was laughing with the men too. It was a nice change. Generally Boromir was so worried and consumed by his desire to find his friends that only a small frown of concentration graced his handsome features. She decided he looked younger when he smiled. Her attention was drawn away from Boromir, though, as Godwine addressed her.

"My lady, now that you have joined us I think I shall begin my tale."

"Finally," Boromir muttered. Godwine just ignored him.

"Now you may not be aware of this, but our lord King Théoden's health had deteriorated greatly over the past several months. Our strong, proud king was reduced to a decrepit old man with hardly the strength to walk, and his mind was no longer his either but polluted with the poisonous council of his advisor, Wormtongue." He spat the name. "We only learned yesterday that it was in fact Saruman's spell that had taken hold of our king. Yesterday morning four riders entered our Hall—a man, a dwarf, an elf, and a wizard. It was this wizard, Gandalf the white—"

"Surely you mean Gandalf the grey!" Boromir exclaimed, joy evident in his voice. Gandalf the grey. Daphnaie recognized the name. Gandalf the grey. She could almost picture him. Gandalf the grey. But of course! She knew him! More than once he had traveled through her forest, and on one fateful day he had recognized her, even as a tree. Somehow he could see her. It had scared her at first, but filled with curiosity she had revealed herself to him. He was the only being she had ever revealed herself to. To see him…speak to him again…

"Where has he gone?" She cried. Boromir gave her a strange look then, but she was not quite sure what it meant. It hinted faintly at…suspicion? Surely not.

"Let me finish!" Godwine said annoyed. "As I was saying, Gandalf the White," he gave Boromir a pointed lookthere, "freed Théoden from Saruman's iron grip. As soon as his mind was his once more, Théoden banished Wormtongue, then buried the prince, and just this morning left for Helms deep, with all except for us, who have been charged with protecting the Hall" he gestured to the other men at the table, "and Gandalf who rode off alone in search of the king's nephew for aid."

Boromir asked Godwine some more questions then but Daphnaie could hardly keep up. The questions all related to things Boromir had never mentioned before and they confused Daphnaie to no end. Even the questions about Gandalf were shrouded in mystery to her. What did he mean he thought Gandalf had been lost in the mines or Moria? What even were the mines of Moria and how could a wizard possibly get lost there? What was this fellowship he kept referring to? It angered her that he had never spoken of any of this to her before, and she felt the beginnings of a headache forming.

"Excuse me," she said standing up. "I think I need some air." Boromir nodded, hardly listening, and turned back to Godwine.

She left the table and made her way out onto the stone steps in front of the Golden Hall, taking a seat on the top one. The cool night air did wonders for her frayed nerves. She just sat there looking out onto the moon-lit plains for a while. Breathing in the freshness she calmed down quickly enough. Oddly she found herself wishing for someone to come and talk with her— as an immortal she never longed for company, though she had always enjoyed Vána's visits. Right now though, she thought some conversation might improve her mood, perhaps conversation with a young soldier of Rohan with skin as pale as parchment….

"You left rather abruptly." A masculine voice interrupted her thoughts

A/N: I know I said they would make it to Helms deep this chapter:/ but it seems I underestimated how much they'd be doing at Edoras. Forgive me. They'll make it to Helms deep next chapter I swear and then it won't be long before everyone is reunited yayyy. Anyways tell me what you thought of this latest installment!