Masks

Thanks, Freya and Sandra! I hope you had a good trip, Sandra. :) Hehe...Freya...yeah, I imagine some people wouldn't like Boromir/Eowyn. But I'm a huge fan of AU and changing what is in favor of exploring what could have been. ;) Thanks!!!

Oh and Sandra, RE: perspectives...it's a thought. I'll keep it in mind and if I see a good way to do that, I will! Thanks for the suggestion! :D
*

The sun was bright overhead. Alura looked up into the clouds with a soft sigh, welcoming the morning that spread across the land. A bird fluttered overhead, gently flapping her wings before taking off into a glide that saw her past the black and white banners of Gondor that were caught in the breeze. She followed the little creature with her eyes, smiling when it met up with a few more of its kind and began a game of chasing. The scene was idyllic. It made her roll her eyes. Oh, she was honest enough to realize that hating Minas Tirith just for the sake of hate was foolish, but she couldn't help feeling annoyed with any fair observations of this place.

Crossing her arms, she wandered the white stone pathway near the edge of the wall on the sixth level. Éowyn was busy being fitted for her costume and soon they would be seeking her for the same purpose. Part of her did look forward to a new dress, too. And the prospect of a masked ball sounded interesting. She sighed, finding less reason for her to hate this idea. Her cousin seemed able to accept the marriage. They had stayed up a good part of the night talking about it and Éowyn had described her intended as attractive and honorable. Alura had smiled at the blonde’s excitement, but inwardly she felt sad. She was going to lose her cousin. And not only that, but she even found herself envious of that expression of purpose on Éowyn’s face.

Kicking a stone from her path, Alura pursed her lips and shook her head. What do I want with marriage, anyway? she thought with a frown. Perhaps that wasn't even it, either. She wasn't in a rush to have all those expectations on her and being part of a royal family, she could be expected to marry someone chosen for her. But she had to admit, if even just to herself, that having strong arms around her in the cold night would be a welcome feeling. It had been long since she had indulged in that comfort.

She turned away from the edge of the rail and saw a form across the way, sitting on a bench. The red hair betrayed it to be one of Denethor's sons, but from this distance she could not tell which. Curiosity drove her forward. She had not forgotten Boromir's actions of last night. While it was more comfortable to believe he meant nothing by it, she found herself wondering if he would do anything more.

As she got closer she noticed it was not Boromir, but Faramir. He had noticed her coming, though, so it was too late to back out. She decided there was no harm in getting to know him. He seemed a kind man, worthy of understanding. Soon she found herself standing before him.

He had a book and a parchment in his lap, which he quickly closed. With a smile he greeted her and motioned her to sit beside him. "Greetings, Lady Alura. How does the morning suit you?"

“It suits me fine," she replied, taking the place beside him. She gazed at him with a half-lidded gaze, put off by the bright sun. "I learned last night it was Boromir that was going to marry my cousin.”

He grinned and nodded. "It comes as no surprise to me. He is my elder. This leaves me free to pursue other females at least.”

Alura returned his expression. "And this makes you happy?”

"Éowyn is beautiful. I had hoped, I will admit. But it gives me great joy to see my brother settle down.” Faramir smirked at that. “It also serves as a source of amusement. Éomer, I fear, does not agree. He also hoped Father would relent and marry her off to me.”

She gazed at the stones beneath her feet, muttering absently, "I wonder if that would not have been a better idea."

He donned a pale smile. "You do not trust my brother?"

"I don't know your brother, to be fair," she responded simply. Alura gazed out ahead of them, watching the clouds sweep by. "He seems decent enough, but Éowyn is a gentle soul. Boromir is…”

“Boromir is Boromir, inevitably and unchangeably,” Faramir breathed with an understanding nod. “It will be an interesting marriage, I think, but not necessarily a bad one. Boromir has honor. He will not be a hard man.”

“Do you think he will love her?” Alura asked quietly, needing to know the answer to that. Surprisingly, she did not know what she preferred the answer would be.

Faramir shook his head and leaned back, following her actions and gazing out at the sky with her. “I do not know. I think in time he will appreciate her. I think…I think he could love her. What of Éowyn? Do you believe she could love Boromir?”

Biting her bottom lip, Alura turned towards him. “I guess that will depend on how he treats her.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, draping his arms along the back of the bench. He inhaled deeply as if enjoying the fresh air, then gave her a penetrating look. “Well, enough speculation. We worry for nothing, I am sure. Tell me about you.”

“Me, huh?” she said dubiously, giving him a sidelong glance. She sat up, avoiding his arm uncomfortably. “The wife of King Théoden’s brother Éomund had a sister. I am her child. Éowyn and I grew up together, trying to stay out of trouble while Éomer and Théodred were hell bent on causing it. They loved to get the adults mad at us girls if they possibly could. Éomer was the main instigator.”

Faramir laughed at that and fiddled with his bracer. “That sounds like Éomer. A good man, but he does have a fondness for sport. Must be why he and Boromir always end up quarreling.”

Alura gave him a sly look. “Éomer would have us believe the fault lies entirely with Boromir.”

“Oh, I am certain I do not have to tell you not to believe that innocent façade that your cousin dons. He is responsible for at least half of their brawls,” Faramir countered with a smirk. “When we were all children Théoden came here with his son and your cousin. Éomer and Boromir took an instant dislike to one another. I remember I was minding my own business in the courtyard where the White Tree rests when suddenly Éomer came rushing from one of the side exits, being chased by my angry brother. I watched my brother take Éomer down and later, when they had been pulled apart and properly punished, I asked him why. Your cousin, it seems, had decided to surprise my brother with a few strategically placed snakes. Boromir used to have a strong aversion to them when he was young because he had been bitten at the tender age of four.” She couldn’t help it. The image made her laugh and Faramir watched her with a smirk, his eyebrows raised. “You are amused at the suffering of others?”

She nodded heartily. “When it’s something like that, sure I do. That sounds like something Éomer would do.”

“Yes, I’m sure it does,” he agreed, laughing himself. He shook his head. “I shall have to tell him on the wedding night to check for snakes in case Éowyn has any of her brother’s humor.”

“And I shall have to tell Éowyn to have a snake ready in her bodice.”

Faramir laughed at that and shook his head. “You Rohirrim are a rough people. I shall have to remember that if I should try and court one.”

Alura looked him over with a smart expression. “Yes, well, try to remember that especially if it is Éomer you court.”

He made a face that drew a smirk from her. “Éomer is much too rough for my tastes, I should think. It may take a mask and a very good one to fool me into relations with him. Speaking of which, do you look forward to the wedding celebration?”

“I do, I believe,” she responded honestly. “Is it your father’s customary choice to have parties in this fashion?”

The Gondorian nodded his head. “It is a tradition passed down through our family. The roots of it are obscure, but it is generally looked on fondly. When do we ever get to enjoy fun and mystery without death waiting around the corner?”

She nodded softly. “True. But do you ever find yourself uncertain as to who your dancing partner is?”

He laughed at that and considered it. “I suppose it has happened once or twice. Sometimes there is a certain thrill in not knowing.”

Giving him an arch look, she said, “Oh? Is that so?”

“It is so,” he countered with a soft smile. Gathering his book and parchment into his hands, he stood up and made a bow. “And with that, dear Lady, I must bid you farewell. I could sit here and lose myself in conversation with you easily, but I would not want to give my father a reason to be angry by failing to do his will. Perhaps I will see you at dinner?”

“Perhaps you will,” Alura answered, watching him go without getting up. He seemed a nice man. Éowyn would be much more suited to him, she thought with a sigh. Boromir was right. They did seem the same. But what was done was done, it seemed. She wondered what sort of marriage her cousin was walking into.

*