Posting this chapter feels like a bit a celebration for me, since I finally finished my very long (45 chapter!) Baldur's Gate story. As a special treat, two new characters get introduced at the end of the chapter. New to my story that is, but well-known and much loved favorites for LotR fans.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6

As he expected, Faramir found Morloth with some of the men who had been lightly wounded in the most recent skirmish. He waited until she finished bandaging a scalp wound to get her attention.

"Morloth, may I speak to you?"

"Of course, Captain, just a moment." She gave some final instructions to her patient and rose to join Faramir.

"Will you walk with me?" Faramir asked courteously.

She nodded, and followed him away from the others so Faramir could speak to her privately.

"I understand that you are accompanying my brother to Minas Tirith," he asked, watching closely for her reaction.

Morloth looked startled for a moment before replying cautiously, "Yes, Captain, since we must take shelter there in any case, Lord Boromor felt it would be safer if Cirlan and I were to join him and your men on his journey."

Faramir nodded, "Good, I don't think there will be any danger, but there's no point in taking needless risks. I know you haven't had a chance to return home since you began tending my brother, so I wondered whether you might like to have someone pick up a few things for you, or go yourself if you prefer."

"Captain, that would be very kind!" She smiled ruefully, "I have been wearing the same two dresses for nearly three weeks so I would extremely grateful for some clean clothes. There are also some mementos that I would prefer not to leave behind, but I'm afraid if you send one of your men he might have trouble finding them."

"Perhaps Cirlan could go," Faramir suggested, "one of my men could accompany him; if they go quickly they could get in and out in plenty of time."

"That might work, as long as you're sure he'd be safe. However, I'd like a chance to think whether or not it might be best for me to go myself. It is very thoughtful for you to do this for us, Captain, I know you have much more important concerns right now."

"It's the least I could do after you have taken such good care of my brother." He paused, wondering how to broach the subject that he most wanted to discuss with her, but wary of violating his brother's trust. "Morloth…" he began.

Looking down at her hands, she said quietly, "You know, don't you?" She glanced up and met his eyes, a hint of challenge in them, "You would not need to make certain we are alone to speak to me about fetching clothes from my house. Your brother told you what he asked of me."

By Eru, she was quick! "Reluctantly," he admitted, "I pressed him to tell me what had happened between you. I was…am…concerned."

"May I be candid with you, Captain Faramir?" Morloth asked.

"Of course, I would expect nothing less from you."

"Your 'concern' suggests that you either don't trust your brother to behave honorably toward me, or that you do not think such an association would be suitable for him." Her voice was strained, but she met his eyes resolutely, "Under the circumstances, I think I deserve to know which it is."

"Aye, you would. But as it happens, neither is true." Faramir paused to think; he must go gently, it was clear this situation was not one she was taking lightly. "Tell me, Morloth, why have you not given him an answer? Is it because you are afraid what he might do if you say 'no'?" Cringing at the mental picture of his brother's reaction to this conversation, he plunged on, "If that is the case, I assure you need not worry; if his interest in you is unwelcome, you may safely tell him so."

Morloth's response was immediate, "Oh, no, Captain! I'm not afraid of Lord Boromir!" To Faramir's relief she seemed to find the idea absurd. Then, looking as uncertain as he'd ever seen her, she continued, "It seems that your brother has no concern about our difference in station, and that is to his credit. But I do not have that luxury. I…I fear that to do this I would aim too high."

Faramir sighed and leaned against a broken statue, suddenly weary. He should have guessed that he wouldn't have to warn her about that particular pitfall. And in many ways it made what was sure to be a difficult conversation easier, since she had introduced the subject of Boromir's position herself. "You are wiser than you know, Morloth, but not because your station matters to either Boromir or myself; it does not."

He paused for a moment, searching for a way to explain the situation to her. "Many years ago, almost twenty I'd guess, Boromir fell madly in love with a pretty young girl named Miriel. I was only Cirlan's age at the time, so I don't know all that went on, but from what I do know it was a typical 'first love' for both of them, though of course Miriel was very flattered to have drawn the attention of the Steward's heir. But what was not typical was the way it ended; one day, Boromir found that she was…gone. Her father had a minor post in the trade commission and he was suddenly transferred to Dol Amroth."

"Your father?" Morloth asked quietly.

Faramir nodded, "There was no argument, no discussion. She was simply removed from Boromir's life. And there have been other incidents through the years; some subtle, some more overt, that have sent my brother a very clear message that if he ever wants to marry, he will not be allowed the choice of his heart. He learned his lesson; there have been many women in his life since then, but none he has truly cared for." Until now, unless I miss my guess, Faramir added to himself, but knew that it was best for Morloth to discover that on her own.

"Your father can decide who he marries?" Morloth asked, incredulous.

"He cannot force Boromir to marry against his will, of course, but as the heir, he cannot marry without my father's blessing. And his blessing will never be forthcoming, at least not for Boromir's choice."

"But…but why? Doesn't he want your brother to be happy? Doesn't he want an heir?"

Faramir shrugged, "He says he does, and he occasionally suggests some high-born lady to Boromir, though always one that anyone who knows my brother would realize he would never accept. The latest is the Lady Éowyn, the niece of the King Théoden of Rohan. I have never met her, but I am told she is very beautiful. Boromir is fast friends with both Marshall Éomer, her brother, and her cousin Théodred, the King's heir."

"That sounds…suitable," Morloth responded in a carefully neutral tone.

Faramir snorted, "Yes, until one realizes that she is almost half his age and that he sees her more as a much younger sister than a potential mate. Boromir told me he could never look Éomer in the eyes again if he took her to his bed, even as his wife."

"But if that who your father is suggesting to your brother, then he will certainly not approve of me," Morloth said bleakly.

"As much as it pains me to say so, I fear that is true no matter how much Boromir cares for you. But that is no reflection on you! Though it will probably be small consolation, at this point I think they would oppose the other's choice on principle. They are both extremely stubborn men, and equally convinced they are in the right."

"Your brother did not tell me this," Morloth murmured, pain in her voice.

"No, and he will want to skin me alive with a blunt knife if he finds out that I did, though I think you deserve to know," Faramir responded. "But to his credit…"

Morloth looked up suddenly to meet Faramir's eyes, "He could not, not without making it seem like a convenient excuse."

Faramir, eyebrows raised, regarded the woman in front of him. If his brother was somehow able to win her, he would have his hands full with a woman of such formidable wit.

"Your brother is a grown man, and a fine one," she said fiercely, "he should not be treated this way by his own father, Lord Steward or not." She squared her shoulders, clearly having made a decision, "If you would be so kind as to find me some parchment and a quill, I will make a list for Cirlan. I will be returning to Minas Tirith with your brother."

Faramir hurried to comply with her request, surprised but heartened by this turn of events.

"Captain," Morloth asked, "what was she like? The woman that your brother…"

"Oh, Miriel? Small, pretty, and prone to giggling, as I recall." He gave Morloth a warm smile. "I think it's safe to say that Boromir's taste has…matured since then."

-ooo-

Morloth was still fuming over what Faramir had told her when she reached the area where Boromir, Cirlan, and the five Rangers assigned to escort them to the city had gathered. Faramir had accompanied her to say farewell to his brother, and she noticed Boromir giving him a questioning look as they approached.

She spoke to Cirlan when she reached the group, careful to avoid meeting Boromir's eyes, afraid of what she might do or say if she did. "Cirlan, I have special task for you. I need you to take this list home and collect the things I've noted." She smiled at him, "And of course, bring anything small of yours that's you'd like to have too. The Captain will assign one of his men to go with you."

"I won't be coming to the city?" he asked in surprise.

"You will, just not with me. As soon as you're done at home, go straight to Auntie Gilien's house in the city. Can you find it on your own?"

"Of course, mother, I know the way!" Cirlan replied confidently.

She noticed that Boromir's horse had drifted closer to them, and she found her heart pounding fast at the thought of what she was about to do.

"I won't be staying with you at Gilien's" she continued, feeling a little like she was stepping off a cliff. "Lord Boromir needs me close by a while longer, and when the battle comes I will be wanted at the Houses of Healing, so I'll be staying there for the present. Send word to me there when you reach the city and I'll come to see you at your Aunt's as soon as possible."

Cirlan took this change of plan in stride, giving her a quick embrace before heading out, list in hand, with the Ranger Faramir had chosen to accompany him.

She mounted her horse and finally found the courage to meet Boromir's eyes. What she saw there was a look so filled with expectation and longing that it made her heart pound and her breath come short.

He smiled tentatively, "My lady?"

She smiled back, feeling rather giddy. "There are rooms near the Houses of Healing for visiting healers and for those who must tend patients overnight. If you request it, I'm sure a room can be made available for me. I felt that arrangement would be…unremarkable, my lord; that is, if you still wish me to be nearby."

"Do I wish it?" he asked in astonishment. Boromir quickly closed the space between them and maneuvered his horse so that it screened them from the sight of the Rangers waiting nearby. He captured her hand and gave her a look of such intensity that she looked away for a moment, breathing hard. "Morloth, you have no idea how much I wish it." Her hand was warm in his; he lifted it to his lips and kissed it lightly but showed no intention of releasing it. "And I insist that you call me Boromir."

"Are…are you sure, my...Boromir?" she said quietly, "It might cause comment."

"In private then, if you prefer," he conceded. Even though she had spent almost a week alone with him, suddenly she wasn't sure whether the thought of being somewhere private with Boromir was more exciting or frightening. Both, she concluded, definitely both.

A polite cough from Faramir brought them back to reality. "Boromir, I believe it would be…impractical for you to hold her hand all the way to Minas Tirith," he said with an amused glint in eye.

Boromir gave his brother a mock glare, released her hand reluctantly and said, "I know jealousy when I see it, Faramir." He chuckled when Faramir rolled his eyes. Boromir sobered and reached down to clasp his brother's arm, "Keep well, little brother, I'll expect you in a few days."

Faramir nodded, "Keep well yourself." He glanced up at Morloth and smiled, "Both of you."

"Move out!" Boromir called to the Rangers behind them. Faramir's men spread out to escort them, and they spurred their horses toward Minas Tirith. Morloth took a deep breath to steady her nerves, still a little unsure about this new and surprising adventure that she had found herself in. She snuck a glance at Boromir riding beside her, and he gave her a warm smile, looking as happy as she'd seen him in their time together. Maybe, she thought, it will turn out right, after all.

-ooo-

Pippin struggled to keep up with Gandalf's long steps as he strode ahead, muttering angrily under his breath. Gandalf had a few biting words for Pippin after he had impetuously offered his services to the Lord Steward, but he knew that was not the chief reason for Gandalf's irritation.

"Gandalf," Pippin asked, gasping a little with the effort of running and trying to talk at the same time, "why won't the Lord Steward believe us that Boromir is alive? You said he loves him dearly, you'd think he'd be happy to know that his son lived! And why won't he order the beacons to be lit? If the Dark Lord's armies come like you said, they'll need all the help they can get from Rohan."

Gandalf stopped abruptly and peered down at the hobbit, "Questions and more questions, as always, Pippin?" he said sharply. Then his voice softened, "Would that I had some answers for you, Master Took. Denethor has never welcomed tidings or counsel from me, so that may be part of it." He shook his head, "But you are right, that does not explain all; why does Denethor cling to despair when he is offered hope? There is something else at work here, something that weakens his will to fight…"

He fell silent for a moment, lost in thought, then straightened resolutely, "But that is not our concern at the moment. Boromir will return to the city when he is well enough, and perhaps that will stiffen Denethor's spine. In the meantime, the beacons must be lit! We must find a way for it to be done, and done soon."

A man dressed in Gondor's black and silver was rushing by from the direction of the Citadel that they had just left, and nearly collided with them in his haste. Gandalf put out a hand to stay him.

"You were just in the Citadel, I saw you pass us a short time ago. What word did you bring the Steward? If you are able, please tell us!" Gandalf asked urgently.

The guard recognized Gandalf, and bobbed his head respectfully before speaking, "It is no secret, Mithrandir, soon all the city will know." He smiled broadly, "The Lord Boromir, the Steward's heir, returns to us after an absence of many months. Our Captain-General returns!"

Gandalf sighed with relief, laid his hand on Pippin's shoulder, and smiled down at the hobbit. Pippin felt his heart swell with happiness; as terrifying as his and Merry's capture by the orcs had been, it was made far worse by the thought that their friend Boromir had so valiantly given his life to save them. He and Merry had rejoiced when Aragorn told them that Boromir lived, but that was nothing compared to the prospect of actually seeing him again. The only thing that would have made it better is if Merry could have been part of the reunion too.

"That is indeed good news!" Gandalf said happily, "When is he expected to arrive?"

"Within minutes, Mithrandir! I am to have the trumpets readied for his arrival." He bowed again, and murmured, "Mithrandir…" obviously eager to be away.

"Go on, then, lad!" Gandalf urged him, and the guard ran off after casting a smile in their direction.

"Boromir's coming here? Oh Gandalf, how good it will be to see him again!" Pippin cried.

"It will indeed!" Gandalf said heartily. "And even better, it may solve some of the problems we are having gaining Lord Denethor's cooperation. Come!"

Gandalf had abruptly changed direction from where they had been headed, so once again Pippin had to run to catch up. "Where are we going, Gandalf?"

"The stables; we'll get to the gates faster on Shadowfax," Gandalf explained. "I have urgent business with Gondor's Captain-General."

Yes! Pippin thought, and followed along happily behind the wizard. If only Merry were here!