Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Lord of the Rings, etc
**************************************************************************** ** Boromir stood atop the high tower, looking down on the city planned out for his ruling. Denethor would be expecting him soon for dinner, but it could wait. The sunset was breathtaking that night, but Boromir had hardly noticed. He was busy gazing at the city of Minas Tirith below him. The people appeared to be ants; busily rushing to and fro before the last rays of daylight had escaped from the sky. The 17-year-old wondered if he would ever walk as one with the people below him, in the streets of his city. Denthor kept a close eye on him, especially since a few men had threatened the Steward a few weeks before. He feared that a revolt was soon in the coming, but the rebels had been taken care of, so to speak. Boromir thought little of it, only wondering at the moment if he would ever again be allowed to stroll in the fields outside the gate, like he once had during a break from the battles that sometimes threatened the city. But Minas Tirith was strong, and would remain.
Boromir slowly advanced towards the steps that led to the great hall of the Steward. On his way down he ran into his younger brother, Faramir.
"Father was expecting you long before now, Boromir." the younger boy gasped. Boromir placed his arm around his shoulder and together they descended down the stairs.
"How about tomorrow, just the two of us," Boromir began, ignoring his brother's statement, "go down to the main part of the city and have some new kind of fun?"
"With other people, you mean?" Faramir asked, amazed. Boromir nodded. "Sure! That is, if father allows it." Faramir said, smiling widely at the thought of escaping the walls of the Steward's Hall.
The next day, after Boromir had gotten his father's permission to leave the gates of the hall, he and Faramir exited the main path and cut behind a small cottage right away. They had no desire to stay to the streets, thinking that this would be their only adventure. They came upon a small path behind the cottage, and Faramir wished to journey on it. So they did, gazing all about as they tried to make little noise, so as not to bother the citizens. After a few minutes of the path, Boromir grew weary of the sameness and pulled Faramir onto the main road through the village. Few people passed, and none seemed to recognize them as they Steward's sons. Boromir thought this was great, and burst happily into the first shop he saw. It was a bakery, and Boromir bought a loaf of bread with the little money he had. The brothers headed outside after a quick chat with the baker. But just as they set foot outside Faramir tripped on the doorstep, falling flat on his face. Boromir quickly pulled his brother up, examining him for injury. His knees and hands were scraped, and his trousers were torn at the knees.
"I'm sorry, brother, I didn't mean to be so clumsy." Faramir apologized, almost crying. "Father will be so angry that I tore my clothes, he will never let us journey outside for many years to come!" he continued.
"Don't fret, Faramir, we'll get your trousers sewn." and Boromir led the boy back into the bakery.
"Pardon me, but would you know any seamstresses nearby?" he asked. The baker chuckled.
"Had a spill, did you? Not to worry, I know just the place for you to go. I doubt the lady will be awake so early in the morning, though. You could try." and he told them directions to a widow who hemmed clothes for the people of the city, along with her young daughter. So they set out at once, making their way slowly along the streets slowly growing with more people. Most were women, which was fitting, since the male warriors were probably resting after a brief battle on the far borders of the land.
The brothers stepped into the small hut, which above the door hung a sign: Hasunder's Linens, and the picture of a needle and thread carved into the thick block of wood. Inside was dark, with curtains drawn. Nobody was to be seen, only shelves full of all kinds of cloth and strings, and a wooden plank floor. A dark staircase led out of sight to the upstairs, where a little noise could be heard, like feet scuffling along the floorboards.
"Hello?!" Boromir called out when no one appeared after a few minutes. A woman (nearly immediately) bounded down the stairs.
"Co-ming!" she called, brushing a lock of unbrushed red hair out of her face. She swept around the banister and nearly leaped behind the counter. "How may I help you?" she asked and smiled. This apparently was the widow's daughter.
Boromir stood for a few minutes in awe. Even without a hairbrush handy she was amazingly beautiful, and he was suddenly at a loss for words.
"I fell and I need my trousers fixed before I go home today." Faramir announced when Boromir failed to explain their plight right off.
The girl smiled. "Just a second." she called as she skipped happily to the window. With one quick swing she flung the curtains open, revealing the bright sun. Smiling even broader she returned to the counter, but this time on the brothers' side.
"So, your pants need to be fixed, do they?" she asked. Faramir nodded. "Very well, what's your name?"
"Faramir, and this is my brother Boromir." Faramir replied.
"Very good, my name is Lortentia, but every one calls me Lorna. Now sit down here for just a minute, and I'll be right back!" and the she bounded back up the stairs, and disappeared for a few minutes.
When she came back down she held in her arms a grey bundle. She handed the bundle to Faramir and led him to a small room. The grey bundle was a pair of trousers. Faramir came back with his ripped pants in his arms, and the grey trousers hanging far down below his ankles.
"A little long for you, eh?" Lorna asked, and laughed. "Not to worry, this won't be long." and she took a spindle of thread and sat right down on the hard wooden floor and set to work sewing up Faramir's pants.
"What brings you to these parts? I mean, I haven't seen you about at all." Lorna stated, and glanced briefly upwards.
"We haven't been here lately, it's true, but we live nearby." Boromir choked out.
"Okay, keep your secrets," she laughed, and then started to sing. 'Where the green grass grows is where I wish to be, Either a rolling meadow for shore by the sea. To play and sing under the bright sun, never knowing what our happiness brings, but knowing we'll have fun!' she stopped. "I made that one up, couldn't you tell?" and she laughed.
"You have a beautiful laugh." Boromir couldn't believe he said it. Lorna blushed.
"Thank you, Boromir." and she continued with her work. There was a few minutes of awkward silence, so Lorna began to hum gently to herself.
"Do you know any songs?" she asked both of them. They shook their heads silently. "That's a pity, I should teach you some, then." and she stood up. "Here is a glad song, for both of you look like you need it. No offence, I mean." she added quickly, and motioned for them to stand. They did, and she put her hands behind her back. "I heard this long ago, from a far-off land.
'Sing hey! for the bath at close of day That washes the weary mud away! A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!
O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.
O! Water cold we may pour at need
down thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is Beer, if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.
O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!"
She stopped. The brothers stared, silently. She giggled for a few seconds, and started the song again, slowly. Faramir sang the line she spoke, and quickly picked up the tune. "Your turn!" she gleefully called to Boromir, and stood him up from his seat. "Sing hey! for the bath at close of day." and he repeated. Soon a smile was across his face as well, and all three sang loudly the Bath Song.
Soon Faramir's pants were stitched, and looked as though no patch was there.
"Father will not notice that they have been tampered!" cried Faramir joyously, and thanked Lorna graciously. He strolled out of the store, singing under his breath. Boromir stayed behind for a few minutes.
"Lady Lorna," he called to her.
"Yes?"
"Would you mind if I could have some time with you, tomorrow, maybe?" he asked, blushing. Lorna smiled.
"With Faramir and you?" she asked.
"Nay, just myself. and you." Lorna smiled even broader.
"Of course! Arrive here tomorrow, if need has it, around 10." and she winked.
"Very good, then." and Boromir smiled and exited, full of anxious joy.
Well, that's it. It might not be accurate, I don't have a copy of the books handy. If anyone could tell me if I'm wrong about something it would help, thanks!
**************************************************************************** ** Boromir stood atop the high tower, looking down on the city planned out for his ruling. Denethor would be expecting him soon for dinner, but it could wait. The sunset was breathtaking that night, but Boromir had hardly noticed. He was busy gazing at the city of Minas Tirith below him. The people appeared to be ants; busily rushing to and fro before the last rays of daylight had escaped from the sky. The 17-year-old wondered if he would ever walk as one with the people below him, in the streets of his city. Denthor kept a close eye on him, especially since a few men had threatened the Steward a few weeks before. He feared that a revolt was soon in the coming, but the rebels had been taken care of, so to speak. Boromir thought little of it, only wondering at the moment if he would ever again be allowed to stroll in the fields outside the gate, like he once had during a break from the battles that sometimes threatened the city. But Minas Tirith was strong, and would remain.
Boromir slowly advanced towards the steps that led to the great hall of the Steward. On his way down he ran into his younger brother, Faramir.
"Father was expecting you long before now, Boromir." the younger boy gasped. Boromir placed his arm around his shoulder and together they descended down the stairs.
"How about tomorrow, just the two of us," Boromir began, ignoring his brother's statement, "go down to the main part of the city and have some new kind of fun?"
"With other people, you mean?" Faramir asked, amazed. Boromir nodded. "Sure! That is, if father allows it." Faramir said, smiling widely at the thought of escaping the walls of the Steward's Hall.
The next day, after Boromir had gotten his father's permission to leave the gates of the hall, he and Faramir exited the main path and cut behind a small cottage right away. They had no desire to stay to the streets, thinking that this would be their only adventure. They came upon a small path behind the cottage, and Faramir wished to journey on it. So they did, gazing all about as they tried to make little noise, so as not to bother the citizens. After a few minutes of the path, Boromir grew weary of the sameness and pulled Faramir onto the main road through the village. Few people passed, and none seemed to recognize them as they Steward's sons. Boromir thought this was great, and burst happily into the first shop he saw. It was a bakery, and Boromir bought a loaf of bread with the little money he had. The brothers headed outside after a quick chat with the baker. But just as they set foot outside Faramir tripped on the doorstep, falling flat on his face. Boromir quickly pulled his brother up, examining him for injury. His knees and hands were scraped, and his trousers were torn at the knees.
"I'm sorry, brother, I didn't mean to be so clumsy." Faramir apologized, almost crying. "Father will be so angry that I tore my clothes, he will never let us journey outside for many years to come!" he continued.
"Don't fret, Faramir, we'll get your trousers sewn." and Boromir led the boy back into the bakery.
"Pardon me, but would you know any seamstresses nearby?" he asked. The baker chuckled.
"Had a spill, did you? Not to worry, I know just the place for you to go. I doubt the lady will be awake so early in the morning, though. You could try." and he told them directions to a widow who hemmed clothes for the people of the city, along with her young daughter. So they set out at once, making their way slowly along the streets slowly growing with more people. Most were women, which was fitting, since the male warriors were probably resting after a brief battle on the far borders of the land.
The brothers stepped into the small hut, which above the door hung a sign: Hasunder's Linens, and the picture of a needle and thread carved into the thick block of wood. Inside was dark, with curtains drawn. Nobody was to be seen, only shelves full of all kinds of cloth and strings, and a wooden plank floor. A dark staircase led out of sight to the upstairs, where a little noise could be heard, like feet scuffling along the floorboards.
"Hello?!" Boromir called out when no one appeared after a few minutes. A woman (nearly immediately) bounded down the stairs.
"Co-ming!" she called, brushing a lock of unbrushed red hair out of her face. She swept around the banister and nearly leaped behind the counter. "How may I help you?" she asked and smiled. This apparently was the widow's daughter.
Boromir stood for a few minutes in awe. Even without a hairbrush handy she was amazingly beautiful, and he was suddenly at a loss for words.
"I fell and I need my trousers fixed before I go home today." Faramir announced when Boromir failed to explain their plight right off.
The girl smiled. "Just a second." she called as she skipped happily to the window. With one quick swing she flung the curtains open, revealing the bright sun. Smiling even broader she returned to the counter, but this time on the brothers' side.
"So, your pants need to be fixed, do they?" she asked. Faramir nodded. "Very well, what's your name?"
"Faramir, and this is my brother Boromir." Faramir replied.
"Very good, my name is Lortentia, but every one calls me Lorna. Now sit down here for just a minute, and I'll be right back!" and the she bounded back up the stairs, and disappeared for a few minutes.
When she came back down she held in her arms a grey bundle. She handed the bundle to Faramir and led him to a small room. The grey bundle was a pair of trousers. Faramir came back with his ripped pants in his arms, and the grey trousers hanging far down below his ankles.
"A little long for you, eh?" Lorna asked, and laughed. "Not to worry, this won't be long." and she took a spindle of thread and sat right down on the hard wooden floor and set to work sewing up Faramir's pants.
"What brings you to these parts? I mean, I haven't seen you about at all." Lorna stated, and glanced briefly upwards.
"We haven't been here lately, it's true, but we live nearby." Boromir choked out.
"Okay, keep your secrets," she laughed, and then started to sing. 'Where the green grass grows is where I wish to be, Either a rolling meadow for shore by the sea. To play and sing under the bright sun, never knowing what our happiness brings, but knowing we'll have fun!' she stopped. "I made that one up, couldn't you tell?" and she laughed.
"You have a beautiful laugh." Boromir couldn't believe he said it. Lorna blushed.
"Thank you, Boromir." and she continued with her work. There was a few minutes of awkward silence, so Lorna began to hum gently to herself.
"Do you know any songs?" she asked both of them. They shook their heads silently. "That's a pity, I should teach you some, then." and she stood up. "Here is a glad song, for both of you look like you need it. No offence, I mean." she added quickly, and motioned for them to stand. They did, and she put her hands behind her back. "I heard this long ago, from a far-off land.
'Sing hey! for the bath at close of day That washes the weary mud away! A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!
O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.
O! Water cold we may pour at need
down thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is Beer, if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.
O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!"
She stopped. The brothers stared, silently. She giggled for a few seconds, and started the song again, slowly. Faramir sang the line she spoke, and quickly picked up the tune. "Your turn!" she gleefully called to Boromir, and stood him up from his seat. "Sing hey! for the bath at close of day." and he repeated. Soon a smile was across his face as well, and all three sang loudly the Bath Song.
Soon Faramir's pants were stitched, and looked as though no patch was there.
"Father will not notice that they have been tampered!" cried Faramir joyously, and thanked Lorna graciously. He strolled out of the store, singing under his breath. Boromir stayed behind for a few minutes.
"Lady Lorna," he called to her.
"Yes?"
"Would you mind if I could have some time with you, tomorrow, maybe?" he asked, blushing. Lorna smiled.
"With Faramir and you?" she asked.
"Nay, just myself. and you." Lorna smiled even broader.
"Of course! Arrive here tomorrow, if need has it, around 10." and she winked.
"Very good, then." and Boromir smiled and exited, full of anxious joy.
Well, that's it. It might not be accurate, I don't have a copy of the books handy. If anyone could tell me if I'm wrong about something it would help, thanks!