A little pre-Thanksgiving treat for my readers...or at least, I hope it's one! Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 11

Boromir leaned against the doorway with a satisfied smile as he watched Morloth going about her tasks. She was working on a tray of bandages and just finished patting them into place, giving her handiwork a nod of satisfaction. He chuckled to himself; it eased his heart to see her like this.

Some sound or instinct must have warned her she was not alone and she turned to see him watching her. Morloth gave a little start of surprise. "Boromir!" she exclaimed, "I…I did not see you there." Despite his unexpected arrival her answering smile seemed heartfelt; she was genuinely glad to see him.

"No matter, Morloth," he replied, his smile broadening. "I like watching you work, as I did so often when we were in the way post together."

Boromir crossed the space between them and stopped close enough to touch her, though he did not. "Morloth…" he murmured, and then fell silent, content just to look at her for a moment. By Eru she was beautiful! It seemed perfectly natural to reach over and take her hand; it tightened on his and his heart beat faster.

"Yes, Boromir?" Morloth asked a little breathlessly.

He pulled himself out of his reverie with a start, feeling a little chagrined. "I would ask if you are busy, but there is scarcely anyone here but you."

Morloth nodded, "The Warden sent all but a few home to rest. There will be little time for it once the fighting starts and the wounded begin arriving."

"Must you stay?" Boromir asked, searching her face.

"No," she answered, smiling up at him, "I can leave at any time—I was just keeping myself busy."

"Good," His smile widened into a grin and he took her arm, deftly steering her toward the door. "Have you eaten?"

Her hand tightened on his arm, which Boromir found not at all displeasing, "I ate at midday with my sister and her family when I was visiting Cirlan, but nothing since then."

"Well, it is surely time then. I propose we go back to my room. Duinor can order supper for both of us and you can check my wounds if you wish. You can also tell me about your visit with Cirlan," he added with a smile.

"I…I would like that very much," Morloth replied, and his heart leapt.

After stopping to pick up her bag, Boromir led her out of the building. "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, but after our meeting with Father," he grimaced at the memory, "I had to review our defenses and speak to the troops." Beregond was standing near the door waiting for him. Boromir sighed and nodded his head toward the man, saying with a touch of asperity, "Gandalf decided I needed a keeper."

When they neared Beregond to Boromir's surprise Morloth cried out in wonder and delight, "Beregond!"

Beregond grinned in response and briefly clasped the hand she offered to him, saying. "Morloth, it is good to see you! When Mithrandir mentioned a healer named Morloth I thought it might be you."

"Beregond…oh it has been so long! How are Aerin and the children?" Morloth asked eagerly.

"Fine, fine, Morloth. Though we've often wondered how you fared in the wilds of Anórien, especially after Bregor…" Beregond's face fell, "We were grieved to hear of that."

"Thank you, Beregond. I like Anórien very much, though it seems I'm back in the city now, at least for a time," Morloth responded, glancing at Boromir beside her.

"So I understand. There's a tale to tell there, too, I'll warrant," Beregond said under his breath.

Boromir watched them with amusement. "I see that introductions are not necessary," he remarked dryly. "We are going to my rooms in the Steward's residence. Perhaps you could explain how you two know each other on the way."

"Of course, my lord," Beregond replied and walked with them to the tunnel leading to the seventh level. "Morloth's father Menelgil took pity on me when I was new to the Guards—grass-green and little more than a lad. I think he realized how all at sea I felt, so he invited me home for a few meals and introduced me to his family. It helped, and I've stayed friendly with the family over the years. Morloth knows my wife as well, and my son is just a few years younger than Cirlan."

"Oh, that reminds me, Beregond, Cirlan is staying with my sister; I'm sure he'd like to see Bergil again," Morloth interjected.

"Aye, I'll tell him," Beregond replied, and then said apologetically, "I'm sorry my lord, I shouldn't be wasting time reminiscing on duty."

Boromir waved off his apology and said, "It's been a long day and I'm sure your family would like to see you, so once you've delivered us safely, consider yourself off duty for the night. Just request a replacement to escort Morloth back to her room later."

"Yes, my lord. Will you need me tomorrow? Or if you prefer, I can arrange another escort."

Boromir sighed, "If I must have someone—and I suppose Gandalf will insist—then you will do. At daybreak tomorrow, then."

As expected, Duinor was there to meet them and all too happy to order a meal for them both. Supper came, and Morloth chattered merrily about her visit to her sister to see Cirlan, obviously relieved to find him well and content.

When she asked Boromir about his activities that day, he chuckled ruefully. "I had hoped to conceal the extent of my injuries, feeling that it would be of no benefit for the men to learn I am not at full strength." He shook his head, "Beregond knew better, and let it slip right at the outset how badly I had been injured. I was furious until I realized what effect it had on the men. Rather than being disheartened, they were impressed and proud that I had endured such grave injuries and had returned to lead them. The story sped ahead of us like an arrow in flight, and soon the tale was that I survived ten arrows and a thousand orcs!"

"The number of orcs is not far from the truth, to hear your friends tell it," Morloth smiled.

"In any case, they took it as a good omen for success in battle," Boromir continued, "and I pray that it might be so."

"The Warden said that we may start seeing casualties as early as tomorrow," Morloth remarked, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Yes, we heard today from the garrison at Osgiliath that Sauron's armies are massing on the east bank of the Anduin. The assault on the river crossings could start at any time." Boromir scrubbed a hand over his face, "Our one advantage is that the front is narrow at both Osgiliath and Cair Andros, so they won't be able to bring their huge advantage in numbers to bear. But still, they have so many and we have so few…it's not a matter of if the crossings will fall, but when. Then we have to hope that the survivors can retreat to Minas Tirith—we need them all."

Morloth laid a hand on his and he grasped it gratefully. "Boromir, I know you must be worried for Faramir and his men."

Boromir snorted, "I worry for us all, but yes, tonight I am especially concerned about Faramir. I would feel much better with my brother at my side." Then he smiled at her, saying, "But enough of war for now, Morloth, I believe you wanted to check my wounds."

"Why yes, I would. Where would be convenient?" Morloth asked.

Boromir led her to a seating area in the inner chamber and gingerly removed his shirt with her assistance.

"I see you found a shirt that opens in the front," Morloth remarked, "that's fortunate. Trying to pull a tunic over your head with that shoulder wound would be far too painful."

He grimaced, "I found that out this morning. It was not pleasant." Boromir flinched slightly at the memory; it had actually been remarkably painful to bend his arm over his head when he first tried to put a tunic on, and then while Duinor assisted him in taking it off when it was clear it would not work.

"I imagine not!" Morloth replied tartly. "How did you get along today?"

Boromir made a noise of displeasure, "Gandalf instructed Beregond to remind me to rest often, and he was most assiduous in executing his duties. I found that I did well enough between rests," he admitted grudgingly, "though I am not able to push myself as I was before."

"That is understandable, Boromir. You are getting stronger, but it will be some time before you will have the reserves you once did."

"I spoke to the Warden before finding you, Morloth, and he said I could begin limited training with my sword arm immediately. He also gave me the name of a healer who can help me bring my shield arm back to strength."

"How long did he say that would take?"

"At least a month, if not two," Boromir growled, "as you predicted."

She did not answer, but simply smiled and continued her examination. At the feel of her hands on his skin, Boromir concentrated on breathing evenly and thinking of anything but the fact that it was beautiful, desirable Morloth who was touching him. At first he had hoped that it would become easier with time to endure this without thinking of how he would like her to touch him, but if anything it had gotten more difficult since they had become closer. Boromir had briefly considered asking for another healer to tend his wounds, but he was not willing to give up any excuse he might have to be alone with her, or risk having her feel that he no longer needed her care. Think of Father eating, he told himself.

When she was finally done, she said, "Your wounds look fine; the shoulder wound has not bled at all since last night and they are all healing well. You can bathe now if you wish, just be sure to have someone replace the dressings afterward. Any of the healers can do it if I am not available."

"Thank you, Morloth," he said gratefully, firmly suppressing any images that the idea of bathing might conjure in his mind as Morloth helped him back into his shirt. "I doubt, though, that I will have time for such luxuries in the next few days." He took her hand and his green eyes met her gray ones, "I think I have been selfish, asking you to accompany me when we soon will have little chance to be together, and in such peril, as well."

"Boromir," she said chidingly, "together or apart we would both be here and would both be in danger along with everyone else—that is not your doing! I assure you that I am not sorry you asked, and I regret agreeing even less."

Boromir chuckled, his heart lightening. "Lady, if you insist on being brave as well as beautiful you will make it even more difficult for me to keep my promise."

Morloth seemed puzzled, "Your promise?"

He reached up to briefly touch her face, "Yes, my promise not to press my affections on you any more or any faster than you wish."

"Yes, of course," she murmured then fell silent, looking distracted.

"Morloth?" he asked, a little taken aback by her reaction. Had he said something that offended her?

Without warning, Morloth leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. He gave a little gasp of surprise, and aroused by even that brief touch he reached for her to draw her closer but she had pulled away.

"Morloth?" he asked again with a hint of wonder in his voice. She blushed, unwilling to look at him. "My lady?" When she still did not respond he gently raised her chin so their eyes met.

"I had forgotten about your promise," she stammered. "I have been wondering why you haven't kissed me, but I see now that I needed to tell you that I would welcome it if you did."

Boromir laughed ruefully, as much at himself as at her. It had been little short of agonizing for him to restrain himself the night before and now it seemed to have been unnecessary! But any chagrin he might have felt was overwhelmed by the realization that he need wait no longer.

He smiled at her, his heart beating fast, "Again, you surprise me," he chuckled. Boromir reached up to touch the tie that bound her hair. "May I?" he asked breathlessly. At her nod, he carefully removed the binding and then, using both hands, loosened her hair so it fell in heavy folds across her shoulders, framing her face. "By Eru, you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," Boromir murmured, his voice shaking slightly, "from the first moment I awoke to find you in my arms." Then, taking her face in his hands he bent to kiss her, at first just brushing his lips lightly against hers. She returned his kisses with a sigh of pleasure, and he reacted instinctively, his lips lingering and insistent on hers. He slid his hands down her back to her waist, pulling her tight against him and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and curling her fingers into his hair.

Wanting more but afraid to do too much, Boromir pulled away from her slightly and said imploringly, "Morloth, please tell me if you want me to stop."

She nodded, reaching up to caress his cheek, "I will, I promise, Boromir." At this reassurance, he kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly this time, and she relaxed against him, her body pressed against his making him feel things he had not in far too long.

He eased her down toward the cushions, supporting her weight with his left arm while he caressed her back and hip with his right hand and trailed kisses down her neck to the base of her throat. She did not protest, but as much as he wanted more, and wanted her, for the first time that he could recall he forced himself to consider the consequences of his actions with a woman. Already it was becoming increasing difficult to consider stopping and even if he could maneuver her into his bed, in his heart Boromir knew that doing so might break the fragile rapport they had developed. He wanted so much more than simple bedding from her and he found that it mattered deeply to him that she believed that.

Before he could decide what to do Morloth suddenly gasped in alarm and cried out, "Boromir!"

He reacted quickly, releasing her and asking anxiously, "Morloth, are you well? Have I done too much?"

"Your shoulder, Boromir," she replied breathlessly, "you were holding me on your wounded side and I'm too heavy—you might re-injure it."

"My…shoulder," he said slowly, at first unsure whether he had heard correctly. He stared at her for a long moment, one eyebrow raised in disbelief and exasperation. Morloth reddened, looking a little worried at his reaction.

Meeting her eyes, his voice calm, Boromir said distinctly, "Damn my shoulder."

Seeing the amusement in his face Morloth laughed too, remarking, "Damrod was right, Boromir, you are a terrible patient." She reached up and touched his face, with a look of such tenderness that his breath caught in his throat.

Trying to keep the mood light, Boromir snorted derisively, "Morloth, I only try to better myself in areas I where I wish to improve, and I assure you that being a patient is not one of them." He grinned, putting his arm around her—his right arm this time—and pulled her close. "Kissing you, however, definitely requires more practice."

To Morloth's obvious pleasure he was soon suiting actions to words, but a few moments later there was a loud knock on the door. Boromir swore loudly and let her go, feeling aggrieved. By the time he called "Come in!" they were sitting a discrete distance apart, though he was fairly certain that their recent activities would not be difficult to discern from their rumpled clothes and flushed faces.

It was Duinor. Far too well trained to show any reaction to their appearance, he said simply, "An urgent message for you, my lord." He handed the message to Boromir and departed, closing the door behind him.

Boromir quickly scanned the message and his heart sank. He sat back on the cushions, his face grim. "It has begun. Sauron's army is assaulting the river crossings in force."

"Oh!" Morloth drew in a breath in dismay and reached for Boromir's hand. "I…I knew it was coming, but still…" She squeezed Boromir's hand and said resolutely, "I will pray for the safe return of Faramir and the other brave men there."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, "Thank you, Morloth."

She met his eyes, "I should go, Boromir. You should rest while you can, you will be needed tomorrow."

"Yes," he agreed reluctantly, "and you will be needed too." They walked to the door together, Boromir's arm around her waist. At the door Boromir paused, and pulled her close while struggling to find the right words, "Morloth, I hope you know how much tonight has meant to me, how much you mean to me… I don't want you to go, though I know you should."

"I know, Boromir, I don't want to go either," she murmured. She kissed him lightly on the lips, then more deeply as he held her tightly.

He broke the kiss, touching his forehead to hers, their eyes met and held. Breathing heavily, he said, "Perhaps someday, you won't have to." She caught her breath and then nodded a little shyly, giving his cheek one last fleeting caress before departing.