(I'm heading off after this. This is the latest I have been up without alcohol (not an alcoholic btw. Just mean that i'm usually out with friends when im up this late) in quite some time. Bed is calling hehe. )

Faramir stared at Caran curiously before his attention was drawn to Lona. "What business do you have with the Steward?" He asked curiously. Caran turned back to the stalls, her eyes clenched shut tightly. She loathed herself in that moment.

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"War is on the horizon. We have just come from Edoras. We have lost many." She bowed her head. "It will come here next." she lifted her eyes to him briefly, then looked away. "If it would please the steward, we wish to warn him. Sarumon has betrayed us."

(haha no problem!!)

"Saruman is not acting alone," Caran continued, her voice lower. "Hence why it is of the utmost importance that you prepare for battle immediately." Caran turned, her eyes scanning the surrounding area for anyone who was listening in. "We must speak with the Steward immediately." She worked hard to keep the look of disgust from her face.

"I see, Faramir answered solemnly. "Then you both should follow us." He turned automatically and began the ascend to his father's throne room.

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Boromir considered Caran as they walked, a thoughtful look on his face. "What is your name?" he asked, matching his stride with hers.

Lona dropped her head as they walked, partly from respect, and partly because of her comely features.

Caran's eyes widened slightly. "Caran, my lord. Caran Marvyre. I shouldn't expect for you to have heard of me. I prefer to keep a low profile," she laughed light heartedly. "I wish we could have met on a nicer occasion." She said quietly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks once more.

"Why did Rohan not send for help? Gondor would have come to your aid." Faramir asked of Lona, his expression solemn. He hated the idea of Rohan suffering needlessly.

(I think they did send for help...I think Denathor did not want to help Aragorn. Naughty!!)

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"Caran...ah...and yes. It would have been nice." he paused. "Have you have a terribly long journey? Perhaps you need rest before speaking with my father."

"We did call for aide..." Lona replied quietly. "But none came." her tone was humble, and held no accusations.

"Thank you for the offer, my lord. Unfortunately I do not think we have the time for rest." Caran's forehead wrinkled with worry. "The army that was sent to Rohan was not sent to destroy our crops and villages. It was sent to destroy us. I believe the army that is being sent here has been trained to do the same. You need to prepare." Caran said, her voice lowered.

Faramir narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps your rider did not make it to us..." he ventured. "Forgive me...I do not believe I know your name?" Faramir looked to his brother. "You both are more than welcome to rest before speaking with our father. I can only imagine how tired you both must be."

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Boromir cocked his head to the side. "Please..at least partake of some food and beverage. You'll need te strength to face our father."

Lona flinched. "Lona...Lona is my name. And thank you, I am quite alright...I only seek to warn the Steward before the same thing happens to this white city." she ran a hand through the loose hairs that framed her face. "Unless...is there some place we might freshen up a bit, My Lord? It would be most appreciated, and we won't take too long."

"Perhaps we should rest a little." Caran glanced over at Lona briefly. "It has been a long journey after all." Caran gazed ahead. "Perhaps if we tell you all that happened, you can help us break the news more gently to your father."

"Come there's a tavern a little bit up the road," he smiled to Lona.

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Boromir smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." he kept his pace even with hers. "We have time. The armies are probably re-grouping at this time."

Lona blushed, suddenly very aware of the dirty men's clothes she wore and the dirt that encrusted them and her skin. "Thank you, My Lord." she spoke softly to Faramir.

Caran grinned as she turned towards the tavern. "You are probably right. They will want to make sure they have all their bases covered. It will be a terrible blow to find out that Rohan survived."

Faramir spied Lona picking over her clothes. "The barmaid is a personal friend of ours. I am sure she could give you some clothes...That is if you want them off course." He added hastily, a slight blush rising on his cheeks.

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"Aye. They will retaliate, and it will be swift and strong." Boromir glanced down at her, a half smile curving his rather sexy mouth.

Lona gaped up at him, then down again as she had to skitter around a cart in the street. "I..yes..thank you?" why had it come out like a question?

Caran glanced back at Boromir, her eyes fixating on his mouth. She wondered what it would be like for their lips to meet. Caran's eyes widened as a fresh heat overwhelmed her cheeks. Again she fanned her hand in her face. "They certainly will be swift and strong. If we prepare right they will be no match for the men of Gondor though." Especially with you standing behind them... her train of thought continued. They reached the tavern, in which their presence did not go unnoticed. Caran turned her face to the floor, determined not to draw attention to herself.

Faramir smiled softly to Lona before crossing to the barmaid. He motioned for the barmaid to come closer. "I would like two rooms for our new friends here," he motioned over his shoulder. "And any refreshments that you can spare, please?" He spoke quietly. The barmaid nodded with a smile. "Follow me," she said, looking to Caran and Lona, her expression confused as to the connection between them and the lords of Gondor.

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Boromir did not miss the look she gave him, and a slight shudder ran through him. His mind worked over how her eyes had caressed his lips, and his skin tingled. He blinked rapidly. "Uh..miss Caran, would you care for a change of clothes as well? Not that you need it, of course, I just..." he licked his lips awkwardly.

Lona sent Faramir a timid, yet genuinely grateful smile. "Thank you." she murmured quietly before stepping smartly after the barmaid. "Would you...happen to have a..spare dress? Just something simple...I can pay you, for lending it to me." she realized how hot her cheeks felt. Bloody...she never blushed.

Caran moved to follow after Lona, but paused at the sound of her name. His voice was like velvet, it caressed her name beautifully. "A simple dress would be great. We cannot appear before the Steward dressed as we are, afterall..." she picked at the hem of her mud thick top, glancing over her shoulder at Boromir.

Faramir smiled, bowing his head to both Lona and Caran. "We shall be waiting down here for you both." He turned and crossed to his brother. "This should be interesting..." he chuckled faintly. His mind reeled over Lona's gentle smile and her careful manners. His mind lingered on their stolen glances.

The barmaid stopped at her bedroom to collect two dresses. "Money will not be necessary. I have too many dresses for my own good," she giggled, leading them further down the hall to their rooms. "If there is anything else I can give you, please let me know," she said passing a dress to Lona and a dress to Caran.

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