A warm breeze stirred the curtain that hung beside the open casement window and brought with it a smell of green, growing things.  But the soft eddy of wind brought little comfort to Boromir, who was confined to bed after a short-lived but unexpectedly severe illness.  He was under stern orders from everyone to not even attempt to get up and go out as yet, lest he have a relapse of his sickness.  He was convinced he was better now: since the previous day, he had finally been feeling interested enough in what was going on outside to feel restive at the restriction, but he was still under orders to stay abed.  The air wafting in through the window did not help to soothe his restlessness, nor did the green smell of Ithilien that his brother Faramir brought with him when he had come earlier for a visit.  Faramir was gone again now, but the scent of green remained.  The smell of cedar and fern, thyme, sage and mint lingered and blended with the warm air to refresh the stale room and make Boromir's desire to get outside even more keen.

Throwing off the coverlet in a fit of pique, Boromir swung his legs out of bed, determined to get up and do something -- anything! -- that did not involve him lying in bed.  But a wave of dizziness smote him, and as he struggled to keep the room from spinning, the door opened, and his personal attendant Dûrlin entered, carrying a napkin-covered tray.

"Attempting to disobey orders again, I see," Dûrlin remarked, amusement in his voice.  "It has hardly been a full day since you first were able to sit up and take a bit of broth after your illness, and here you are trying to get up and walk about.  But it does not surprise me!  You are a difficult patient, to be sure, always trying to move on before your body is ready for it.  No, do not scowl at me!  I am not here to force you back to bed -- though from the look of you, I suspect you are tempted to lay down again, if your pride would allow it."

Dûrlin set the tray he carried on a small table by the window and drew a chair up next to it.  "Come, my lord Boromir.  Sit here by the open window and partake of some tea and toasted bread.  I think it will do you more good now to have a bite to eat in the fresh air and to look out at the sky than it will to stay in bed.  But do not think this means I will allow you out on patrol on the morrow!"

Boromir laughed.  "Have no fear of that, Dûrlin.  It would seem my great task for the day will be to make my way to that chair without falling on my face.  Though it hurts my pride to admit it, I suppose I am not as strong yet as I had thought.  But you are right -- I am yearning for the fresh air and a sight of something other than the ceiling of my room.  If I can only have it through the window as yet, then that shall have to suffice."

When he was settled in the chair with a warm covering over his knees, Boromir gave a sigh of relief.

"What is this you have brought me, Dûrlin?" he questioned.  "It smells heavenly!"

"Toasted bread with a bit of butter and a pot of mint tea," replied Dûrlin, uncovering the tray and pouring out the pale green liquid into a cup.  A strong refreshing smell of mint filled the room.  "Faramir brought the mint with him from Ithilien and suggested some tea would help you in your healing."

"No doubt you made a special order for mint from him," Boromir chuckled, sipping the tea and sighing with pleasure.  "You have always been one to swear by the healing properties of tea -- particularly mint tea!"

"It is so," smiled Dûrlin.  "Do you disagree?"

"I do not," replied Boromir, taking a tentative bite of bread.

"If that bit of bread and the tea agree with you and sit well on your stomach," Dûrlin continued, pretending not to notice Boromir's cautious nibbling of the bread, "I will make you some broth using some of the other herbs Faramir brought, also at my request.  Mint is not the only healing herb I rely upon to aid those under my care."

"That sounds nice," Boromir said, eyeing a second piece of toast with interest.  "This tea of yours seems to have given me an appetite, and not just for fresh air and the smell of green, growing things.  Broth with herbs will be most welcome.  Now then, sit with me for a time, and tell me news of what I have missed during my illness.  I would hear something of what has been going on out in the world before I return to my bed once more...."