Chapter 11: Remember Today
The thunder of horses drew closer to the city of Minas Tirith. The cheers of the people mixed together with the drumming of horses as the soldiers of Gondor returned to the city triumphant. Trumpets filled the air signaling the victorious return of the valiant soldiers.
"Open the gates!" cried the sentry.
The great gates of Minas Tirith opened, and the men of Gondor flooded the city to cries of victory. There were shouts and the sound of the merriment could have been heard in any corner of the world. Pharazphel's heart was pounding to the rhythm of the noise in the city. The sound of the horses, the blaring of the silver trumpets, and the cheering of the people made her pulse race. Most of all, the knowledge that her true love was alive made her heart soar most of all.
Pharazphel searched through the crowd to find her love, Boromir. In all of the celebration, the task was not an easy one. She had to push her way through the merry people in order to find Boromir. Then, Pharazphel heard the cries of the men.
"Boromir! Boromir!" the soldiers of Gondor shouted.
And there he rode, Boromir, captain of Gondor, in his fine armor on his strong horse. His horn was strapped to his armor along with his sword. In his hand, he carried a banner. The banner was of white silk, carrying the image of the White Tree of Gondor. The White Tree had since withered but the people of Gondor still had faith that it would flower again. Hence the White Tree of Minas Tirith was a sign of the people's hope. If ever there were a day the people believed in hope, it was most certainly on this day.
Pharazphel's heart beat faster as she saw Boromir ride into the city banner in hand. Just after Boromir came Faramir and the men of Gondor cheered again.
"Captain Faramir! Faramir!" they shouted joyously.
Pharazphel raced forward to greet Faramir. "Faramir!"
Pharazphel, overcome with relief and joy, heartily embraced Faramir.
"Did you miss me?" Faramir jested.
"It is wonderful to see you and Boromir alive," Pharazphel said in relief. "My heart skipped a beat when you and Boromir went to war. I feared I would be doomed never to see you again."
"You need not fear anymore," Faramir reassured her. "Boromir and I have returned and we are victorious."
"I am glad to know that," Pharazphel said.
Suddenly, the people began to flood their way out of the city. They began to march toward Osgiliath.
"What is going on?" Pharazphel asked, perplexed.
"We march to Osgiliath to celebrate the victory," Faramir explained. "Will you ride with me?"
"Indeed I will, Captain," Pharazphel said with delight.
And so, the people of Gondor flooded into Osgiliath. The city that had been besieged by Sauron was now free. The Orcs who ravaged the city were gone and would not return. Pharazphel rode with Faramir into the city. Both of them watched as Boromir mounted a high mound at the top of the city. Boromir then raised his sword and triumphantly planted the flag of Gondor in the mound.
"Boromir!" the people of the city cried.
"This city was once the jewel of our kingdom," Boromir said joyously, "A place of light and beauty and music. And so it shall be once more! Let the armies of Mordor know this: never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands!"
Once again, the city cheered in agreement with Boromir.
"This city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed for Gondor!" Boromir shouted proudly.
"For Gondor!" the people cheered.
Pharazphel turned to Faramir. "Your brother proves to have a talent with speech."
"I could not agree more," Faramir said.
Pharazphel and Faramir then hurried through the city and found Boromir.
"Boromir!" Pharazphel cried, her heart leaping.
Unable to contain her joy, Pharazphel leaped into Boromir's arms and kissed him.
"I did fulfill your wish, did I not?" Boromir said.
"Having you in my arms is all I could wish for," Pharazphel said lovingly.
Faramir embraced his brother. "Good speech. Nice and short."
"Leaves more time for drinking!" Boromir replied in jest.
Pharazphel, Boromir and Faramir burst into merry laughter.
"Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!" Boromir shouted.
Cheers filled the city again as barrels of ale were brought into the city. Boromir then handed goblets of ale to his brother and Pharazphel.
"Remember today, little brother, and my love," Boromir said cheerfully, clinking goblets with his brother and Pharazphel, "Today, life is good."
Boromir, Faramir, and Pharazphel then drank from their goblets a little. There was never a happier moment for the three of them. Alas, that happiness was about to be disturbed again.
Faramir grimaced and seemed to shudder. Pharazphel had a glare in her eyes.
Boromir laughed. "What?"
"He's here," Faramir said quietly, as if embarrassed.
From behind them, Denethor came into the city praising the soldiers for their bravery. Pharazphel and Faramir were turned red in the face. They knew that Denethor would not be pleasant. Boromir grimaced as well when he saw his father approaching. He knew what his father would say, and he did not want to hear it again.
"One moment of peace, could he not give us that?" Boromir sighed in annoyance.
"Apparently not," Pharazphel said bitterly. "Of all days to feel the wrath of Denethor son of Ecthelion, why did it have to be today?"
"My father does not pay attention to the occasion, unfortunately," Faramir said glumly.
Denethor came forward proudly. "Where is he? Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first-born?"
Boromir then turned and heartily embraced Denethor. "Father!"
Denethor gazed at his son proudly. "They say that you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly."
"They exaggerate," Boromir said humbly. "The victory belongs to Faramir also."
"But for Faramir, this city would still be standing," Denethor said coldly. "Were you not entrusted to protect it?"
"I would have done, but our numbers were too few," Faramir explained.
"Oh, too few. You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim. Always you cast a poor reflection upon me," Denethor said, his tone like ice.
"That is not my intent," Faramir said sincerely.
"You give him no credit, and yet he tries to do your will," Boromir said, annoyed.
"A poor reflection? If not for Faramir and Boromir, this city would be lost," Pharazphel said, incensed. "Faramir always does your will. I think it is youwho casts a poor reflection."
"Do not dare be so insolent to me, wench of Rohan!" Denethor said angrily. "You know nothing of this matter."
"My eyes and ears work just fine, my lord, and I know more than you think," Pharazphel replied. "What I do not know is why you seem intent to see flaws in your son who always does your bidding."
Denethor turned away from Pharazphel and followed Boromir.
"He loves you, Father," Boromir said, his voice pleading Denethor for mercy.
"Do not trouble me with Faramir. I know his uses and they are few," Denethor said callously. "The same can be said of that Rohan girl. She has no use to you and has only hindered you since the day she came her."
"I brought her here, and I love her," Boromir said firmly. "She has never troubled you, and you need not take your anger out on her on my account."
"I cannot waste time on that wench," Denethor said dismissively. "We have more urgent things to speak of. Elrond of Rivendell has called a meeting. He will not say why, but I have already guessed its purpose. It is rumored that the weapon of the enemy has been found."
Boromir's eyes widened. "The One Ring. Isildur's Bane."
"It has fallen into the hands of the Elves," Denethor explained. "Everyone will try to claim it: Men, Dwarves, Wizards. We cannot let that happen. This thing must come to Gondor."
Boromir was stunned. "Gondor."
"It's dangerous, I know," Denethor said hastily. "Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser men. But you, you are strong. And our need is great. It is our blood which has been spilled, our people who are dying. Sauron is biding his time. He's massing fresh armies. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. You must go. Bring me back this mighty gift."
Boromir had heard enough. "No. My place is with my people, not in Rivendell."
"Would you deny your own father?" Denethor questioned.
Faramir overheard the conversation and brightened. "If there is need to go to Rivendell, send me in his stead."
"You?" Denethor mocked, "Oh, I see. A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to prove his quality. I think not. I would rather send the Rohan woman before I send you, but no. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me."
Denethor turned away and left the three of them. Boromir was stunned. The thoughts of what he just heard raced through his mind. The One Ring, Rivendell, Sauron, all raced through his head like a wheel. Boromir's heart burned him. He did not want to leave Gondor. He had only just survived a terrible battle and wanted to stay.
"I must go to Rivendell," Boromir said, his face unreadable.
"Please, Boromir, let me ride in your stead," Faramir begged.
"No, I cannot imagine Father's temper if you did. It's best that you stay here. I will go to Rivendell, and I will return," Boromir said.
Boromir left Faramir, but Pharazphel followed him.
"Let me ride with you to Rivendell, at least," Pharazphel pleaded.
"No, you have not fully healed," Boromir said.
"It is only my arm that is wounded now," Pharazphel said dismissively.
"I cannot let it be more than that," Boromir said.
"You do not need to protect me, Boromir. Whether it be Sauron's Orcs or your father's temper, I can endure it," Pharazphel reassured him.
"I know I do not need to protect you, but I love you and thus I want to protect you," Boromir said sincerely.
Pharazphel sighed. "Is there nothing you can do to stay?"
Boromir shook his head. "No. Once my father has made his mind, he will not change it."
Pharazphel's heart broke a little, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "You have only just returned to me and now we shall be parted again. It's unbearable."
"Maybe it does not have to be so unbearable," Boromir said brightly.
"What are you speaking of?" Pharazphel asked, perplexed.
"Perhaps we can still have each other and never be parted again," Boromir said.
"Speak not in riddles. What do you speak of? How can we never be parted again?" Pharazphel asked desperately.
"We will never be parted again if you marry me," Boromir said softly.
Pharazphel was stunned. "What?"
"Will you, Pharazphel, daughter of Pharazpher, marry me, Boromir, son of Denethor?" Boromir asked lovingly.
Pharazphel smiled, and this time, happy tears were on her cheek. "Yes, yes. A thousand times more, yes!"
Boromir and Pharazphel embraced each other and their lips met. For that moment, it was as if time had stopped. There was no one in the world but them.
Pharazphel smiled at her fiancé. "There is only one dangerous task that must be done if we are to wed."
"And what is that?" Boromir wanted to know.
"We must tell your father we are engaged," Pharazphel said in jest.
Boromir laughed. "That will indeed be dangerous, but it will be worth it."
Boromir and Pharazphel then filled each other into their arms once more and once again, they only had each other.
A/N: For those of you who love Twilight, I know I just borrowed a line. It was unintentional, but I thought it would fit. I hope you enjoyed this!