A shorter chapter this time, but...eventful. Hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter 14

Morloth gave a gasp of alarm and stood. Boromir tried to do the same but had stiffened after sitting for so long and struggled until Morloth assisted him. If he felt discomfited because of it in front of his father, he did not reveal it; he strode up to face the Lord Steward, his face set and angry. When Morloth came to stand next to him, he took her hand.

Despite his infirmity, Boromir stood tall when confronting his father, seemingly not at all self-conscious at being found with Morloth. He met Denethor's eyes coolly, "Uncle Imrahil informed you that Cair Andros had fallen and that we were withdrawing from Osgiliath. If you desired further information on the state of our defenses, you could have asked me to attend you. You know that."

"We have important matters to discuss, yet here I find you…" Denethor began stridently.

"We can discuss anything you wish, including your singular lack of courtesy," Boromir interrupted acidly, "but these others need not be here." He gestured at the men behind Denethor.

Denethor waved his hand and said dismissively, "Wait outside."

As they filed out, Duinor caught Boromir's eyes and said pleadingly, "My lord…"

Boromir smiled reassuringly in return, "Do not concern yourself, Duinor, I know you are not to blame for this."

Once the men were gone, Denethor's eyes flicked to Morloth, his face set in a sneer, "You. Go."

Despite the rudeness of this dismissal Morloth was happy for an excuse to leave, but Boromir's hand tightened on hers.

"No," Boromir responded implacably. "You will not treat her that way. Morloth is a free woman of Gondor and worthy of your respect. She is no man's servant, and most assuredly not yours," he added, his eyes glittering with anger.

"No man's servant!" Denethor mocked, "She might as well be a servant. A healer!" he snorted contemptuously, "I'm sure you know what kind of services she performs for the men in her care."

Boromir growled in rage, but before he could respond Morloth grasped his arm and said in a low voice, "Boromir, no! It's not worth it."

Meanwhile, the Lord Steward continued, "I will not have my son, my heir, entangled with such a woman!"

Somehow Boromir managed to reign in his fury. His eyes narrowed, "I am a man grown these many years, Father. You may be able to prevent me from marrying whom I wish, but you are sadly mistaken if you think I will allow you to govern my heart."

Denethor's voice rose, "And you are sadly mistaken if you think I will acknowledge any bastard of hers, let alone accept one as my heir!"

Morloth had known that there might be a confrontation if Denethor learned of their relationship, but this was far worse than anything she had imagined. She clung to Boromir as if she were drowning and prayed for it to be over quickly.

Boromir shook his head in bafflement, "By what right do you treat her with such disdain? Her father was a guard of the Citadel, her husband died valiantly in Ithilien, and she has selflessly given her own labor and skills to the aid of Gondor—she has no cause for shame! Has your overweening pride in our lineage unhinged your mind?"

"If you think so highly of her," Denethor sneered, "give her to Faramir to marry. I care not who whelps his brats."

Morloth could take it no longer. Eyes filling with tears, she tore herself away from Boromir's grip and stumbled toward the door. Behind her, she heard Boromir answer, cold fury in his voice, "You go too far, old man. Now look what you have done!"

She crossed the outer chamber and continued into the corridor outside, where Beregond and Denethor's guards were waiting. Seeking only a place where she could cry in privacy, she barely heard Beregond exclaim, "Morloth, wait!" She rushed on in the direction she dimly remembered was the way back to her room. Morloth turned a corner and ran full-force into someone coming from the other direction.

After recovering from the surprise of the collision, arms grasped her and a well-known voice demanded, "Morloth, what is it? What is the shouting about?"

Morloth realized she could hear faintly the sound of Boromir and his father's raised voices, though thankfully not what they were saying. When she looked up found that it was Faramir holding her, his face drawn in confusion and concern.

Before she found the words to explain Beregond rounded the corner and stopped, blowing out his breath in relief, "Oh, it's you, sir, thank Eru!"

"What is happening, Beregond? Why is Morloth so distraught?"

Beregond met Faramir's eyes, his face bleak, before responding in a low voice, "It is your father, my lord. Your brother was alone with Morloth when he came, determined to see Lord Boromir immediately. I tried to dissuade him, and your brother's manservant tried, asked him to wait or at least knock before entering, but he refused. What could we do, my lord?" Beregond asked pleadingly, "I would have had to stop him by force, and I…I could not…"

"No, of course not, Beregond," Faramir said reassuringly, "I'm sure Boromir will not blame you for this." His voice hardened, "It's an old tactic of my father's; he likes to catch people wrong-footed so they are at a disadvantage."

Morloth finally found her voice. "We weren't even doing anything!" she protested in an aggrieved tone.

A small smile played over Beregond's features, "Aye, that's true my lord, nothing that would shame either of them. But it was clear how matters were between them, if you know what I mean. When he saw them together the Lord Steward all but accused your brother of neglecting his duties—and I was with him all day, I know for certain that's nonsense!" he added hotly. "We were dismissed then, but from what I could hear it was worse from there—especially for Morloth. She came running out crying a few moments ago."

"I can only imagine how it was for her," Faramir said, shaking his head. He met Beregond's eyes and held them, "Understand that none of this is to be fodder for common gossip, Beregond."

The guardsman looked affronted, "Of course not, my lord! Morloth is a friend as well as Lord Boromir's lady."

Faramir glanced at Morloth and smiled, "I suppose she is at that." He addressed her, "Morloth, my room is just down the hall, would you like to wait for Boromir there?"

She drew a deep breath to calm herself before answering, "Yes, thank you Captain. I feel better, but I'm still a little shaken."

"Good." He turned to Beregond, "You'd better get back. When you see my brother, tell him that Morloth is with me. He'll be worried about her."

Beregond nodded and trotted off back toward Boromir's chambers. Faramir guided Morloth a short way down the corridor and let her into his rooms. Like Boromir's there was a well-appointed outer chamber as well as a bedchamber, though Faramir's rooms were noticeably smaller than his brother's. Faramir found her a seat in the outer chamber and sat across from her.

He smiled wryly at her, "Since it seems you are to be Boromir's lady, you should call me Faramir when we are alone or among friends."

She gave him a tentative smile in return, "Thank you, Faramir. But…but I wonder if I should be your brother's lady," she said, the words coming out in a rush, "if it's going to cause so much trouble between Boromir and your father."

He snorted, "I imagine Boromir will have something to say about that, if he hasn't already." Faramir raised an inquiring eyebrow at her, "Accepted what Father said about you meekly, did he? No disagreement?"

Despite herself, Morloth stifled a laugh, 'meek' was certainly not a word she'd use to describe Boromir's attitude toward his father during their argument, "No, I wouldn't say that."

"I thought not. Boromir is too good a soldier not to avoid an unnecessary fight if he can, but he will not back down when one comes to him." Faramir's eyes met hers, "Especially if it's something he feels is important."

"But it was so horrible, Faramir!" Morloth cried, fighting back tears once again. "The things your father said; what they said to each other… It was bad enough for them to be fighting like that, but the fact that they were fighting about me made it all the worse. I hate that they are at odds over me!"

"I understand that all too well," Faramir responded ruefully. "It's a terrible, helpless feeling to listen to them rail at each other when you know you are the cause and there is nothing you can do to stop them." He paused a moment before continuing, "But consider this Morloth, Boromir and my father have fought like this on occasion for as long as I can remember; sometimes about me, sometimes about other matters. Don't bother telling my brother to let it go or that it's not worth fighting over. Believe me, I've tried, he won't listen. However, I can tell you with complete certainty that Boromir would much rather be at odds with Father than with you."

"Oh!" Morloth exclaimed softly, "If you're sure…"

"I am," he responded firmly, his eyes glinting with amusement, "And I think I speak for all of Gondor's people when I say that I would prefer that you not break our Captain-General's heart on the eve of battle."

This surprised a genuine laugh from Morloth. She blushed and told him, "I hadn't thought of it that way before."

There was a brisk knock on the door and it opened almost immediately, revealing Boromir, who said, "Fara, Beregond told me that Morloth…" He spotted her and she barely had time to stand before he was across the room, taking her into his arms.

To her chagrin, the sight of him and the feeling of his arms around her opened the floodgates again and she began crying against his chest. He smoothed her hair and spoke soothingly to her while she wept, "I'm so sorry, Morloth. I never meant for him to hurt you like that, dear lady."

Without turning, Boromir addressed his brother, "Faramir, Beregond is in the corridor. Could you ask him in, please?"

"Of course, brother," Faramir replied, and Morloth heard the door close softly behind him.

In the meantime, Morloth managed to compose herself somewhat, saying, "I'm sorry, Boromir, I know I'm being foolish with all this crying."

"Not at all, Morloth. My father can be a right bastard and if I weren't so used to it, I'd probably cry too," he assured her.

"Boromir," she admonished, trying not to laugh, "you can't call him that! He's your father and the Lord Steward besides."

He snorted in amusement, "I can assure you that there's absolutely no reason why the Lord Steward can't be a right bastard. It's practically a job requirement."

Now she did laugh, "Will you be one when you're Lord Steward?"

"Probably," he answered matter-of-factly. He took her chin in his hand and caressed her cheek. "I'll try never to be one with you," he said as he bent to kiss her.

Even more than the kiss, her heart thrilled to the implication that she would be part of his life for a long time to come. She pulled away slightly and asked, "Isn't Faramir taking an awfully long time to bring Beregond in from the hall?"

Boromir grinned, "My little brother is a clever one—he knows that we need some time alone together after what has happened. I'm sure he's cooling his heels chatting to Beregond in the corridor; we have a little time yet."

After a moment Morloth said hesitantly, "Boromir, since your father objects so strongly to me, before you came in I asked Faramir if it might be better for you if I were to stop seeing you." She put up a hand to forestall his outraged sputtering and he subsided, "Faramir said 'no', that he was certain you would not want that, and that it would…break your heart if I did."

"I knew there was a reason I keep him around," Boromir chuckled.

Morloth's own heart was beating fast, "I…I suppose what I'm asking is, would it?" She forced herself to meet his eyes, "break your heart, I mean."

He stilled for a moment before responding, his eyes searching her face intently. "I understand that I am asking much of you, Morloth. We have known each other for only a short time; my bastard of a father has treated you abominably and I am not free to make the promises I'd wish to. If you were to walk away for any of those reasons, it would be very hard, but I would understand.

"But know this, dear lady; I am here if you want me, as long as you want me. I was reluctant to reveal my heart before, as I was burdened with the secret of the Ring, and I knew you had no conception of how cruel my father could be. Now there are no secrets between us and I can speak plainly. It may mean nothing in a few days time if the war goes badly, but I can no longer bear to keep silent. I…I love you, Morloth."

Morloth's voice broke, "How could that ever mean nothing, Boromir?" She threw her arms around his neck and he pulled her to his chest, kissing her eagerly.

After a few moments he murmured, "It grieves me I cannot offer you more, Morloth. And my original promise holds; I will not ask more of you that you are willing to give." He gave her a look of heart-stopping tenderness, "Until there comes a time when I have the right to ask it of you."

There was a loud knock on the door and they separated reluctantly. "Must be Faramir knocking," Boromir commented with a boyish grin, "he takes after our mother, you know. Very courteous."

"Come in!" Boromir called as Morloth struggled valiantly to suppress her giggles.

When Faramir and Beregond entered, Morloth was standing with Boromir holding his hand. She felt a little self-conscious about it, but knew there was no point in pretending with these two at least.

Boromir spoke first, "I want to thank you both for taking care of my lady for me when I could not; I am truly grateful." He crossed the room to clasp arms with Beregond and he pulled Faramir into a brief embrace. "As for father," Boromir shrugged, "all I can say is that he'll have to get used to the fact that we're together, as I'm not changing my mind."

Faramir glanced at Morloth with a small smile on his face, obviously glad to be proven correct.

"Beregond, there was something else I wanted to ask you about," Boromir said, finding a seat and gesturing to the others to join him. "This may sound strange, but who were those guards who were with father? I thought I knew all the Guards of the Citadel by sight, but I did not recognize them. If they were new recruits, I would understand, but they are not normally assigned to protect the Steward."

Beregond looked surprised for a moment, then sat back with a muttered oath, "My pardon, my lord, I had forgotten you that would not know."

"Not know what?" Boromir asked, perplexed.

The guardsman sighed and met Boromir eyes, his face grim, "That your father now has his own guards. They wear the black and silver, but are accountable to no one but the Lord Steward himself."

"What?" Boromir exclaimed, "When did this happen?" He turned to his brother, "Did you know about this, Faramir?"

"First I've heard of it, Boromir," his brother assured him.

Beregond shook his head, "Lord Faramir was in Ithilien when it came about." He took a deep breath, and said, "Let me start the tale from the beginning. A few weeks after you left on your journey, my lord, the Steward called Captain Meldir to him and told him that he had decided he needed his own troop of guards dedicated to his protection. The Captain was quite taken aback, such a thing had never been done before; normally all of the more senior guardsman would take turns with that duty as they did with all the others."

"Did my father say why he wanted to do this?" Boromir asked sharply.

"If he explained his reasoning, Meldir did not tell us, my lord. The Captain said he argued against it as strongly as he dared, but your father would not be swayed. And who could gainsay him? Neither of you were here, nor Prince Imrahil, and the Steward's Council showed no interest in getting involved. So your father picked the first few of this new troop from the current guardsmen."

They all started when there was a knock at the door, and Boromir swore under his breath. Faramir answered it; it was a courier who bowed, handed him the message, murmuring, "From your father, my lord," before taking his leave.

The brothers exchanged a concerned look and Morloth's heart sank. It seemed unlikely this would be good news after the earlier confrontation. Faramir scanned the message and said lightly, "Father wants to see me immediately. Well, we knew it was coming, so it's best to get it over with."

Boromir groaned and struggled to his feet, "And I've gone and made it worse for you, Fara! You know he'll be an even fouler mood than usual after our argument. I never meant to land you in my dung pile, but I should have thought… I'm such a fool!"

Faramir waved off his protests, "Boromir, you know you couldn't have done any differently, nor would I have wanted you to. Besides, how bad could it be?"

Boromir snorted in grim amusement, "You are an optimist, little brother." He sighed, "I'd offer to go with you, but somehow I doubt it would help." He gripped Faramir by the arms, "Come see me afterward, no matter what happens. Promise?"

Faramir nodded and smiled faintly, "Of course, Boromir. Stay as long as you like," he added before slipping out the door.

Boromir reseated himself next to Morloth, "Damn, I should have seen this coming!"

"What do you mean, Boromir?" she asked in confusion.

He squeezed her hand, "I'll explain later. But for now, I'd like to hear the rest of Beregond's story. You said father picked men who were current guardsmen. How could that be when I didn't recognize the two who were with him tonight?"

"The first few, my lord, were handpicked by the Steward himself from the more senior guardsmen." Beregond grimaced, "Not the ones I would have chosen for an especially important duty. None were bad of course; all the Guards of the Citadel are good, reliable men or they wouldn't wear the uniform. But the ones he chose, well, they were the type that always had their eye on the main chance, if you understand me. Do you remember Avor? He's one."

Boromir snorted, "Aye, I remember him, not one I would have chosen either."

"At first they reported to Captain Meldir like all the guardsmen, but gradually that changed. And new men started appearing, hired by the Lord Steward himself, that none of us had ever seen before. I'd say there are about a dozen of them all told. Now they don't even pretend to be in the same command as the rest of us."

Boromir sat back, looking uneasy, "What is Father thinking? Besides wanting all the guardsmen to have experience protecting the Steward, we've always rotated men into those positions to avoid this very thing!" He sighed, "Gandalf must be told. I do not know what this means, but I find it very disturbing that my father feels he needs his own troop that answers only to him."

He stood and stretched, "But that will wait until tomorrow. For tonight, we should give my brother back his room." He smiled at Morloth and held out his arm, "Care to accompany me, my lady?"