Living Proof

Chapter Five

At night, the cabin was at its most peaceful. Especially when Kaia knew no orcs would be passing by, when the only sounds she'd hear were those of nighttime creatures and other than orcs, she feared none of them.

Supper that night was simple—a hunter's stew with vegetables she'd grown in her small garden—but it would fill Boromir's stomach and she had the feeling it had been a while since he'd last had a meal of substance.

He was asleep once more, but finally he slept peacefully. As the stew simmered, Kaia sat at the table, mending a pair of her trousers that had gotten torn several days earlier, when she caught them on a low branch. When she finished, she moved to the chair where Boromir's ruined tunic and trousers lay, and lifted the heavy scarlet tunic. It was a fine garment, of rich wool, the embroidery on the sleeves and about the collar some of the most exquisite she'd ever seen. Whoever this man was, he was of high rank, judging by the finery of his tunic and by the fine wool of the heavy black trousers she'd cut from him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen garments of such quality.

The trousers were beyond repair, but she'd cut the tunic along seams and thought it possible to mend, so she brought it back to the table, where the light was the best, and bent over to examine it closer. It would not be perfect, as it had been before she took her scissors to it, but she could repair it.

So, while Boromir slept, she stitched. And by the time she'd finished, he was just sitting up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands as he mumbled, "What time is it?"

"Nearly seven." She knotted the thread, cut it, and stood, bringing the tunic back to him. "This is lovely."

"I thank you. It was a gift."

"Who from?"

He offered up a wistful sigh. "My brother, actually. Last Yule."

"You have a brother? That must be nice. I always wanted a brother or a sister, but sadly, it never came to pass. Is he older or younger than you?"

"Faramir is younger by five years."

"And where is he now?"

Boromir's eyes darkened slightly and he shook his head. "I know not. I've not seen him in nearly a year."

That was not what she'd expected and she couldn't help but stare. "Why so long?"

"It matters not," he replied in a somewhat flat tone. "And I'd rather not speak of them now either way."

Although his voice held no emotion, Kaia felt decidedly upbraided and her back stiffened. "Of course. I'll not mention it—or him—again." She draped the tunic over the arm of the chair. "Even so, I am glad I could salvage it. And, I also found your pack. I've not gone through it, but I'm hoping you will tell me you have other trousers in there."

He looked up, his eyes no longer quite so dark, his expression no longer quite as brooding. Instead, he almost smiled as he nodded. "Aye, I have two pair, to be precise."

"Oh, good." She couldn't hold back her relieved sigh. "I've been wracking my brain, trying to figure out how I was coming up with a pair of trousers for a man your size."

"You needn't worry. They should be rolled into the bottom of the pack. And in all honesty, I look forward to wearing trousers again. I confess to feeling a bit underdressed in your presence."

She shook her head. "You needn't. I would not have cut them from you if it wasn't of utmost importance to tend those wounds."

"I understand and I apologize if I fought you over it."

"No apology necessary." She couldn't resist a smile of her own. "You were unconscious when I removed them anyway."

The rich, peppery aroma of the stew wafted their way and she met his eyes. "I hope you're hungry. You've not eaten much since you've been here, and I made a stew for us."