I'm back! SORRY! I was caught up reading LOTR and Jane Eyre at the same time! My fault. I spent forever on this chapter, and I hope you review it. BTW Faramir is 20 and Boromir is 25, making the year TA 3003 I believe. I really like the OC I created that meets Grace. I think you will too. He's a very dashing character, almost like Will Turner. Read, Review, Enjoy!
"Ella! No! You did not!"
"I did very much. I convinced him to invite us to dinner," Ella said confidently, not including her mess-up and the fact that he asked on his own accord.
"I'm very proud of you, my dear Ella," her father, Seon, said loudly, walking into their large estate on the 6th level of Gondor. Ella's vermillion lips curved up in a smug smile.
"So," she said tactically, "What shall we do about mother?"
"Mother will be left with her nurse. You need not worry about her. She will be dealt with. As for you and your sister, Grace you shall wear your gray dress and Ella you will wear the purple. You will both look stunning."
Grace smiled politely saying to Ella, "Come sister, I will help you take down your hair."
"And I shall help you as well Gracie, come now. We can't stay up too late. We have a big day tomorrow," Ella said, grasping at her sister's hand, kissing her temple softly. Grace smiled after her sister, following her. She was in a good mood. Grace watched her sister's glowing face as she happily undid the ties and pins in her hair and setting them on the vanity. As Ella cleared up Grace's hair, a song fell from her lips. She sang songs of love and joy, grinning from ear to ear. Grace smiled too, for it was contagious. It was then Ella's turn to have her hair taken down, however, she would not sit down.
"Oh Grace! He is so handsome! Captain! He is to be a Captain! Oh, when he becomes Steward, I will be at his side with a son in my belly! I cannot wait!"
Grace smiled, "Oh Ella, he is not even courting you yet! Control your passion!"
Ella looked at her sister, smiling. "As you wish, Sister."
Sitting down, Ella continued to grin. She watched Grace pick at her hair, delicately pulling out the pearl pins in her hair. Curly brown hair cascaded down her back, stopping just below the small of her back. Grace warily watched her sister squirm in her chair as Grace brushed her hair.
"Oh, Grace! I feel as if I could fly to the edge of the world and ride back upon the sun!"
"You are too bold, sister."
Ella grinned widely, "But is that not what made Boromir run towards me in a loving embrace?"
Grace grimaced. She always did this. Always. Grace loved her sister, however, when she got this way, Grace loathed her. Ella smiled at herself, completely absorbed in her appearance. She picked at her dark, curly hair, selfish eyes gorging themselves on her beauty. Grace turned away, seeking the refuge of the balcony outside her room. The blonde haired beauty stared at the night sky, longing for the Queen of stars, Varda, to whisk her away. She leaned an arm on the railing, heaving a great big sigh.
"Why does a fair maiden like yourself sigh so heavily?"
"Who goes there? Speak your name," she commanded with as much authority she could muster.
"You do not know who I am, and I know not who you are. I was simply passing by your windowsill, and I heard this lovely lady's sigh. Tell me, lovely goddess, what is your name?"
"Grace. What is yours?" She said, completely charmed by his low, rough voice. It felt like running a finger upon sandpaper, rough, but soothing. As she leaned over to get a good look at him, he slunk into the shadows. He was thin and nimble, however, toned muscles lie beneath his white billowing shirt.
"I shall tell you tomorrow night. Meet me here an hour before midnight."
"I await our next meeting, Ser," Grace said, wondering why she was so excited.
"Goodnight, my lady."
Grace heard footsteps, the clacking belonging to black boots. She saw a large hat with a large feather attached. She saw he was not clean-shaven, instead sporting a trimmed beard. She could not see his face due to the moon disappearing behind the clouds.
"Farewell!" She called. He turned around and revealed a straight set of pearly white teeth.
"Grace?" The blonde girl spun around, bracing herself on the stone balcony, scraping her hands. Ella stood in the door way, curious eyes peering at her.
"What are you doing out tonight? It's quite chilly. Winter is coming. The leaves are leaving. Come inside. I'm freezing." Grace reluctantly followed her sister inside, staring once more into the dark night. Who was that man?
Morning broke and Grace woke up, blue eyes covered in sleep. She stretched, back popping. She sat up, hair in a tizzy. She sleepily spotted the brush on her nightstand. She picked it up and brushed through it lazily.
"Garrett!" A shriek ran out through the house. Grace's eyes widened. She jumped out of bed and rushed to her mother's room. Ella was there first as her room was closest.
"Mother? Mother, open the door!"
"Where is my Garrett? Where is my baby?"
Grace stepped forward, doing the only thing she could think of. "He's out here, mother. Open up!" The door creaked open slowly, their old, graying mother walking out. Her dull, green eyes looked up at the girl who shared so many of her physical traits.
"Ella," she smiled. Grace slunk back slowly, dodging her father, who had just arrived. Grace walked to the larder, grabbing a small loaf of bread and taking a large bite. She plopped down on a crate. Tears floated down her face. It was always Ella. Ella this. Ella that. Ella, Ella, Ella! She threw the bread across the room, standing up. She wished it were midnight. She wished she could sleep forever. Grace stared at her small, pale hands. They shook slightly as she stood. She brushed away the tears and the trails they left and walked out of the larder. The cook and servants greeted her warmly, however, she turned away from them, dismissively. Her eyes stared blankly ahead of her, seeing everything but nothing at all. She turned into her room and saw Ella sitting on her bed. Green met blue.
"Gracie," Ella began, cutting off her greeting with thin lips. Grace stood in the doorway, a frown on her face.
"Yes, sister?" The words sounded weak.
"Mother loves you," Ella said quickly. A scowl appeared on Grace's face, however, she wiped it away when she realized her terrible behavior.
"I am aware of this, sister," Grace said politely, "Do not trouble yourself over my shortcomings. I merely had a fainting spell and required a breaking of my fast. Nothing to worry about."
Ella seemed unconvinced, however, when Grace mentioned the dinner for tonight, she quickly forgot the trouble. Ella flitted about the room, fussing about both her and Grace's hair. Here we go, Grace thought to herself, dreading the next few hours.
The evening hours crept ever closer, and Ella got into the lavish carriage her father owned. Her purple dress fit her snugly and the dark red lip stain contrasted against her pale skin. Her countenance was grim, partially due to the pallor of her skin. Grace seemed just as somber, sliding in next to her sister. She placed her hands in the folds of her shining gray dress. Ella looked upon her sister, and she wondered what could be bothering her.
"Grace, dear sister, what troubles you?"
"I could ask the same of you dear sister," Grace quipped, expression cool. All talk was silenced by the entrance of their large father, sitting down with a grunt. The carriage had enough room for two more people, as the carriage was very fashionable and gaudy. All things were in Gondor. Ella pondered her (hopefully) budding relationship with Lord Boromir. She knew almost nothing about him, unless there were rumors, and those rumors were just on his looks. When she was in Edoras, with the horse-lords, she met a boy. His name was Théodred and he was the son of the king Théoden. She had been quite taken with him before she relocated to Gondor, however, her feelings for him still swelled deeply in her breast. She thought of the dark roots and golden tips in his long hair and his kind dark eyes. He was neither tall and muscular nor thin and wiry. He was perfect. Ella let out a sigh.
"Thinking of Boromir, are we?" Seon asked, quietly, a smile on his lips. Ella snapped out of her reverie.
"Of course, dear father, what else would I think of?" She pressed her lips into a tight, polite smile. As soon as Ella looked down at her small dainty shoes, the carriage came to a halt. It was time.
The three guests were greeted lavishly with servants, removing their cloaks, as it was beginning to take a chill in Middle Earth. Ella felt the warm air of the Citadel redden her face and she asked one of the servants where the powder room was. Directing her to the fifth door on the right down the first hallway to her left, Ella entered the room. A mirror sat in there waiting to lay it's reflecting eyes upon her. She looked at herself, wondering if it was really her. She saw Lady Ella, a suitor. She had lost the girl in Rohan, Ellie. Éowyn, one of her dear friends, used to call her that as they ran about the baths, naked and free. They saw each other turn to a woman, and for that, they were like sisters. Éowyn was more of a sister than Grace was at times. Ella supposed she used Grace as a replacement. When Ella had been told she was to leave Rohan and see her father, she was appalled. Her lady tutor attempted to comfort her, however, she found refuge in Éowyn's company. She could not remember how long she cried in Éowyn's lap. She only knew Éowyn cried as well. Now she was here. Lord Boromir was her only real chance of seeing Éowyn again, unless she should flee to Rohan. A small tear fell from Ella's gem-like eye. She wiped the traitor away and fled the room.
Ella stumbled back as she saw Boromir talking to her father, a large smile on his broad face. She took this time to observe him. He was not handsome; she now realized this. His nose was rather large for his face, protruding into the space where noses were not meant to be. His eyes were beady, however, the color was still present. His lips were thin, surrounded by a tidy beard. However, all these features seemed to fit in with him, not making him extremely attractive. They made him more rugged and battle-worn. The black doublet he wore exposed his thick, hard muscles, making him more attractive to Ella. She pronounced her steps as she strode forward and gained everyone's attention.
"My lady Ella," Boromir said softly, "A pleasure." He bent to kiss my hand, and I smiled.
"The pleasure is all mine, my lord. Shall we proceed to the sitting room?"
Boromir grinned, nodding. The trio followed Boromir to a richly furnished room, holding two males. One was our Steward, Denethor, who sat directly in front of the door. The other was a young man, approximately the age of Ella. He sat tall, thin and lean, however, sporting muscles in his arms. He was a bowman. He was prettier in the face than his brother, however, he sported the same hair and eyes. Ella assumed him to be Faramir, Denethor's youngest son.
"Good evening, Lord Seon," Denethor mumbled, cold eyes meeting Seon's.
"My Lord Steward," Seon replied swiftly. Faramir stood and met eyes with Ella, a smile rising on his lips.
"Lady Ella," he said politely, "Lord Boromir has spoken of you."
Ella's eyes crinkled up softly, "I should hope good things." A loud chuckle resounded behind her and she started, forgetting Boromir was behind her. Grace stood behind Boromir, twiddling her thumbs, praying for midnight.
"And who is this, my lady Ella?"
"Grace? She is my sister; I love her with all my heart."
Grace smiled at that, stepping forward and clasping her sister's pale hand. Denethor stayed quiet, allowing the young ones to talk amongst themselves. Seon observed quietly as well, both of the father's sending some silent message to each other.
"Dinner is ready, my Lord," a servant who had entered the room voiced.
Dinner came and went, Boromir receiving a sweet cake in honor of his name day. He was twenty and five on this day. Dinner chat consisted of Boromir and Ella exchanging in polite conversation on their likes and dislikes. Faramir chose to speak with Grace on books and lore of Middle-Earth. Denethor and Seon quietly spoke of business. This chatter barely filled the grand hall they sat in. After the fact, everyone went to the sitting room again. Everyone chatted together, however, a half-hour into the conversation, Boromir pulled Ella outside.
"Will you walk with me?" He pushed out his arm, and Ella daintily placed her small arm in his hooked elbow. He led her through parts of the Citadel in silence. Ella observed the beautiful architecture in awe.
"You like the building?"
"I love this place...my lord," she tacked on.
"As do I... my lady," he mocked with a grin on his face. Ella looked up at him, a sly smirk on her face.
"So, it is that game you wish to play, soldier-boy?"
Boromir grinned like a mad man, a low chuckle bubbling from his lips. "I want nothing more."
"You act like a school-boy," Ella remarked sharply, the smile remaining on her face.
Boromir feigned offense, "Me? Immature? I must be with a harpie like you following me about!"
Ella giggled, giving him a light slap to the arm. He took her arm again, smiling at her. Boromir regarded her appearance with greedy eyes. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. She had a woman's body in every sense, pleasing Boromir. Her face was dainty and pale, reminding him of a porcelain doll.
"My lady Ella, might I ask you a question?"
"Anything, my lord."
"Would you consider paying a visit to the Citadel in a weeks time, on this day?"
Ella frowned, "At what time?"
"Noon would be lovely, or I could pay a visit to your home?"
"No! I-I mean, I can be there on Thursday of next week, however, I am occupied on the day you speak of."
Boromir warily accepted her quick answer and brushed it off as a simply matter of a dirty house. Perhaps her maids were of poor performance.
"As you wish, my lady, I shall see you Thursday at noon."
"I shall count the moments, my lord."
"Ella! It is time to leave!" Seon called, lightly, saying his last goodbyes.
"Goodbye, Lord Boromir."
"Good night, my Lady Ella. May your dreams comfort you."
I know! It was kind of short, but at least it's out! Please please please review! I desire them! I want feedback on how I'm doing. If I get facts wrong, PLEASE TELL ME! I want this story to be as "accurate" as it can possibly be, considering Boromir was never in a relationship. I love Éowyn, obviously, so I put her in here. She may seem OOC, however, she wasn't a shieldmaiden when Ella knew her. So... it proves to me that she was a liiiiitle girly. :) R&R!
