Promise Me

Chapter Twenty-One

"Is he all right?"

Gabriella smiled as Dory gestured to Boromir, who sat at the far end of the bar with Faramir and the lady Éowyn. Both men were well on their way to being far into their cups, and while she had little patience for most drunkards, she made an exception for the brothers. Especially after the day's events. "He is fine. I'll send him up to bed and let Faramir sleep in my parents' room if need be."

Dory smiled. "It's too bad my family returned, for I wouldn't mind sharing space with him at all. But no, they expect me to come home now..."

Gabriella shook her head, seeing how Éowyn laughed at something one of them said and leaned her head against Faramir's shoulder. "I don't know, Dory. I think his heart might be spoken for. Look at them."

Dory looked over and her nose wrinkled. "She should go back to Rohan."

"Oh, don't be catty," Gabriella scolded softly. "He looks happy with her and he definitely deserves to be happy as well."

"Not helping, you know."

"I have no control over who Faramir loses his heart to, and you know it. And I'm sorry, but I think she's perfectly lovely." Gabriella set down the towel she was using to wipe down the bar, and added, "and considering what he's been through, you could try to be a little more understanding."

Dory sighed softly. "I could, but I'm far too busy being jealous."

"Well, stop it. He's happy, leave him be. Your someone is out there somewhere and we'll find him for you, one way or another." She gave Dory a quick hug before skirting the bar to join the gathering at the far end. It was nearly midnight and only a handful of the original crowd remained in the taproom.

"There she is," Boromir called, looping an arm about Gabriella's waist to pull her close. "Why don't you sit, love? You've been on your feet all day."

"I'm fine. But thank you."

"You are fine," he gave her a playful squeeze, "and I will prove it."

"There's no need—"

He cut her off with an equally playful kiss, then pulled back to bellow, "Is there anyone in this room who does not think Miss Gabriella is fine? No, wait, not fine, but stunning? Is there? Because if so, you should go and see Ioreth as your eyesight is obviously failing!"

She laughed, even as her cheeks grew hot when someone shouted, "Would anyone be mad enough to argue wi' you?"

"Exactly! They'd have to be mad, or blind, to not see it, wouldn't they?"

Someone else shouted, "Take care, mate! You might have to marry her, you keep going on about her like this!"

Boromir grabbed his tankard with his free hand and raised it. "Have to? You've got it wrong, friend. I already want to. And you've not answered me, you know."

"Boromir," Gabriella pressed her forehead into his shoulder, her face growing hotter by the moment, "don't put anyone on the spot."

"Besides, no one is about to challenge you, they're all too terrified," Faramir chimed in, then hastily added, "Not that anyone would, Gabby. That's not what I meant."

Boromir threw back his head and let out a roar of laughter. "Take care, little brother, and watch that you offend neither Gabby nor me."

To his credit, Faramir flushed. "I meant it not as an insult, Gabby. I swear it I didn't."

"I know and Boromir, stop teasing him, because you know it as well." Gabriella lifted her head from his shoulder to punch him instead.

"Ouch, take care, love. I'm sensitive and I bruise easily." Boromir pressed a kiss into the top of her head, then turned back to his brother. "And I know he means no insult, because I also know that he adores you almost as much as I do."