Boromir reached his hand out to Faramir. "Brother! Wait!" with a glance at Caran, he took her shoulder in her hand. "no. You are not climbing up there! My father could execute you!"

Lona took long strides, her jaw clenching in determination. She had not heard the rest of their conversation, had not known Faramir was following her. Her only thoughts were on what she needed to do.

Faramir shrugged his brothers hand away. "Please do not see this as an attack on you. I must do what I can for Gondor. We cannot just wait for death." Faramir gazed at his brother. "We will return with aid."
"Look after her," Caran whispered faintly.
Faramir nodded and began sprinting towards Lona. "Wait up," he panted.

Caran watched as they left before glancing up at Boromir. "I understand that you cannot go against your father. That is why I am not asking you to. Something must be done though Boromir. You cannot fight this battle alone. Rohan will come." She laid a hand on his arm.

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Lona still didn't hear him as she strode into the inn. She slammed her bag down on her bed and began shoving things into the pack. Her blood was thumping in her ears.

Boromir took her hand. "You cannot go to Rohan alone. You cannot." he stepped closer to her, keeping his eyes on hers.

There was a light knock on her door. Shortly after, Faramir entered. "Forgive me," he bowed his head to her. "I would not barge into a lady's room, if it was not urgent. I've come to tell you, that you are not alone in your quest. I offer up my services to you," he paused. "That is if you will have me?" He grimaced, knowing he would follow her anyway. "I think we should speak to the elves and the dwarves. Caran says she will alert Rohan." His hands fidgeted in front of him. He was nervous.

Caran glanced down at their hands. "Does that mean if I cannot light that beacon, you will come with me to Rohan?" she asked quietly. "Your father will not allow you to do that. I cannot ask you to abandon your father that way." She glanced up at the beacon again. A path lead up to it. At the top of this path was a guard. She frowned deeply, knowing that would have been a measure forced by Denathor.

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Boromir held Caran's hand. "I will go with you." his voice was soft, but he spoke with conviction. "Yes, my father will not approve...but, maybe when he sees we need the aid he will forgive me." he stepped closer to her, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Also...it means more time with you." his breath caressed her cheek, warm.

Lona had whirled, staring at him with wide eyes. "You still wish to defy him?" she whispered, hiding her shaking hands behind her back. She pondered that for a moment, a long pause before she spoke again. "I will not try to convince you otherwise, My Lord, that is not my place." she bowed her head. "I am grateful for your confidence and your willingness to help. Thank you." a humble answer. Not something she was use to giving. But this man had earned it, going against his father in the long run could mean exile. Or worse. She knew a true warrior, a true noble when she saw that kind of determination.

"I do not want you to risk the relationship with your father. Doing this with me could mean exile or...worse," she swallowed heavily. "If you choose to do this with me, you are to back off when it gets too much or dangerous for you. I do not mind if your father hates and wants to destroy me, but I cannot have him doing that to you." Caran spoke quickly, almost distracted by Boromir's proximity to her. She could see him so clearly. His strong jaw, his warm and gentle eyes. His safe and protective arms. Caran exhaled heavily. "I...I guess we should get a move on. I cannot imagine that we have a lot of time."

Faramir smiled faintly, bowing his head once more. "It would give me great pleasure to accompany you and indeed help you in any way that I can." Faramir opened the bedroom door. "I shall gather some supplies for us and will meet you at the stables in five minutes." He bowed his head to her once again before departing.

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Boromir didn't release her. And instead of speaking, he tilted his head, just brushing his lips softy over hers. "Let me go get packed." he whispered, then was gone.

Lona swallowed, not sure what had just happened. After a few moments of trying to regain her breath and calm her heart, she changed back into her regular clothes and carefully packed her dress away with her other belongings. Soon, her hair was once again wrapped around her head in the braid that was usual style that she wore it. Shouldering her bag and donning her weapons, she went to the front of the tavern to wait for Faramir.

Caran touched a finger to her lips, her eyes wide with surprise. Did he...? She watched as he left, her brow raised. Her mind was swarming with thoughts, so much so she could barely concentrate. The flutter of the hem of her dress drew her attention. This garb would be no good on the journey back to Rohan. It would be a pity to ruin such a beautiful dress. While Boromir gathered his belongings, Caran dashed back to the tavern to change into her better riding outfits. The colour of her garb was that of Rohan's, the material, like everything, clung to her curves. A quick glance in the mirror and then she was back in her place, waiting on Boromir to return.

Faramir stood outside the tavern, two horses at his side. He had placed their reserves in the saddle bags. "Where do you want to go first?" He asked, just barely catching his breath. "Perhaps the elves?"

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Boromir was packed and ready, then went to meet her. "Shall we go to the stables?" he asked, smiling at her warmly. "And you look as lovely as ever."

Lona nodded. "Perhaps they will see our need and offer aid. I do not know about the dwarves...they hide in their mountains, greedy for gold and not caring of our worries." she shrugged, looking up at the sky as she mounted her horse. "We best get on our way. It will storm soon."

Caran nodded and turned in the direction of the stables. "Flattery will get you far my lord," she snickered faintly. Again she struggled to read his actions. He seemed interested, but she could not understand it. She was indeed a peasant. She had nothing to offer this Lord of Gondor. They approached the stables swiftly. Caran readied her horse immediately. They would need to be fast. She knew Theoden would not delight in the idea of another battle, but would see the necessity in it. They needed to defeat this evil once and for all.

"Ahh but these troubles do concern them. Once the orcs have destroyed the men, they will destroy the elves and the hobbits. They will come calling for the dwarves and who will be left to save them? This battle concerns us all. We must all stand and fight for our freedom now. We cannot let Sauron win this war. Life will not be worth living otherwise." Faramir began walking towards the gate, his horse following obediently. "We must hurry. Who knows what goes on behind those black gates. All we know is that doom grows closer every minute."

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"If it was flattery, then it would be a lie." he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I only speak the truth." He looked back towards the road. "This shall end. The dark shall be destroyed." he reassured.

Lona shivered involuntarily. "It will take us days to reach either Rivendell or Lothlorien....I just hope it is not too late by the time we get back." she glanced back at the city. "Fara-I mean...My Lord...Do you think the elves will lend us aid?"

"Then you are far too kind my lord." Caran glanced at Boromir and offered him a small smile. "I do not doubt our ability to win this war, especially with you leading us." She pulled a ribbon out her pocket and tied her hair back. "We shall need to watch out for scouts. I fear that should they see us, the battle will move to sooner than we anticipated."
They finally reached the stables, Carsn crossed to her horse immediately. With gentle persuasion she drew him away from his food and out of the stable. She mounted him with ease and waited for Boromir.

"Please Lona...May I call you Lona? Call me Faramir. I've never had much patience for titles. We are to journey far and wide together, I think you have earned the so called privilege of calling me by my Christian name." Faramir mounted his horse staring ahead thoughtfully. "I do not doubt the elves. They will help. I worry that the dwarves may need a little persuasion though," he grimaced. "We will do our very best though Lona."

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Boromir retrieved his own mount and soon met her outside. "But I am not the one who is leading us, am I?" he thoughtfully glanced out towards the gate where Lona and Faramir had exited momenta before. "My lady. Caran. We shall see this through. To whatever end."

Lona nodded. "You may, Lord Faramir." she dipped her head in acquiesce. "Perhaps you should allow me to work on the persuasion of the dwarven folk? They may view you as a threat...not to be, rude, or anything.." she stumbled over her words.

"I know the men of Gondor will take their hope from you," Caran answered, following his line of sight. "She will make a great captain one day. She has everything she needs to be one right now." Caran followed in Lona and Faramir's footsteps, her mount gradually gathering speed.

"They would take better to me than my brother, but perhaps you are right. Please just call me Faramir," he added, offering Lona a small smile.

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"She will be. Though it is not her place." Boromir shrugged. "You're probably right, the men will look to me." a hint of pride came through in his voice. "But...to the present matter. King Theoden, then, is well again? I heard he was sick."

"Alright, Lor..Uh..Faramir." she returned his small smile with a shy one of her own, then looked up at the sky. "Come, we must hurry." Storm clouds were already gathering. She urged her horse on faster, knowing Faramir would soon follow.

"It is as much her place as it is any other persons. She is from a noble family. She has the training. As far as I'm concerned the position belongs to her. Certainly more to her than me. That is a place I will never reach, no matter what. I have no need for such a position anyway," she shook her head dismissively. "Yes, King Theoden is well again. The guilt of what went on when he was...ill, will stay with him forever. I am sure he is war weary, but then again...aren't we all?" Caran peered up at the grey sky, a sigh escaped her lips as she urged her horse faster.

Faramir nudged his horse gently. He spurred forward, swiftly covering the ground between Lona and himself. He rode beside her in comfortable silence.

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