Chapter 12: Joyous Tidings
That same day, Pharazphel and Boromir were conspiring about how and when to deliver their news to Denethor. Both of them knew that Denethor would be furious with this match. Boromir knew Denethor's temper more than anyone, save for Faramir. News of his betrothal to Pharazphel would certainly earn him his father's wrath. Boromir paced back and forth nervously as he stressed over this news.
"That is just one thing I did not think about when I asked you for your hand," Boromir said nervously. "I did not think about having to inform my father of all people."
"Well, in your defense, it was a spur of the moment decision," Pharazphel said, trying to be comforting.
"Can you imagine the look on my father's face when we tell him about us?" Boromir asked.
"I can imagine," Pharazphel said, a sly smile crossing her face. "It would be a comeuppance for the way he's treated me. Besides, who said we are going to tell him?"
"You are going to be my wife, and as such, we must learn to live with my father," Boromir said.
"Fair enough," Pharazphel said.
Boromir seized his hair, anxiously running his fingers through it. "I cannot think of what we should do."
"We could always marry in secret," Pharazphel suggested.
"No!" Boromir replied hastily. "The only thing worse than telling my father would be keeping it from him."
"It would be wiser to just tell him then," Pharazphel agreed.
"I couldn't bear the look on his face if we lied to him, much less if we didn't," Boromir said fretfully.
"Well, well, well, Boromir, Captain of the White Tower, scared by the wrath of Denethor son of Ecthelion," Pharazphel laughed. "Goodness, Boromir, you've just returned from battling Sauron's minions."
"You do not know my father. I'd gladly face Sauron's hordes again instead of him," Boromir said.
"I am beginning to know him, and I shall once we are married," Pharazphel said.
"If we can wed," Boromir said pessimistically.
"Do not be so glum, Boromir," Pharazphel said comfortingly, "We shall wed and share our lives together. Your father cannot and will not take that from us."
Boromir smiled. "I do love your spirit."
"I should hope so," Pharazphel laughed.
"You have the same spirit my mother had," Boromir commented.
"I am flattered," Pharazphel said gratefully.
"Perhaps my father might see that in you," Boromir said optimistically, "I can only hope he sees why I love you."
"And I hope he accepts why I love you," Pharazphel said lovingly.
"Come, let us share the news with Faramir," Boromir said.
"Ah, a much less dangerous task," Pharazphel laughed.
That evening, Pharazphel and Boromir returned to Minas Tirith to find Faramir. Both were so eager to tell him the news. The city was still celebrating. The people of Minas Tirith were out and about still, and the city was bustling. The enthusiasm of the city gave Pharazphel and Boromir much more excitement.
"Faramir will be overjoyed when he hears the news," Boromir said excitedly.
"I hope so," Pharazphel said, a tiny bit of nervousness in her voice.
"You need not be nervous, my love," Boromir reassured her. "Faramir cares for you like I do. He will be so happy to have you as a sister."
"And I would be glad to have him for a brother," Pharazphel said happily.
Boromir and Pharazphel crept into the palace, hoping not to encounter Denethor.
"My father has already retired for the night. We shall not be disturbed," Boromir informed Pharazphel.
"A night of peace," Pharazphel sighed.
"And a night to think before we tell him the news," Boromir added.
The two of them crept into Faramir's chambers. Faramir was sitting at a desk and he was dressed in nightclothes.
"Ah, there you are," Faramir greeted. "I was wondering where both of you had gone off to. I suppose you've been out celebrating all night, have you?"
"Yes, indeed, we have been celebrating, little brother," Boromir said, sharing a grin with Pharazphel.
"You two are conspiring. I know it," Faramir said wisely. "What sort of plot do you share that brings about such glee?"
"There are not plots, but something has brought about our glee," Pharazphel said.
"Well, speak up now! What is this happiness you speak of?" Faramir asked expectantly.
Boromir beamed. "Brother, you are about to gain a sister today."
Faramir gaped and said nothing.
"Yes, Pharazphel and I shall wed," Boromir continued, still smiling brightly.
"I shall be glad to call you brother, if you shall have me," Pharazphel said humbly.
"Of course I shall!" Faramir said, embracing Boromir and Pharazphel warmly. "These are most certainly joyous tidings. I wish you great joy."
"And gladly we accept your blessing," Boromir said gratefully.
"But it is not my blessing which you need," Faramir countered. "What of Father's blessing?"
Boromir and Pharazphel remained silent.
Faramir gasped. "You have not told him!"
"We thought it would be best to have peace tonight," Pharazphel explained.
"We both know Father's temper and thought it best to tell him tomorrow," Boromir said.
"Wise decision," Faramir said. "Brother, we all know that Father will not accept these tidings gladly as I have."
"Yes, I know," Boromir said.
"What if he does not give you his blessing?" Faramir asked.
"I will wed Pharazphel nonetheless," Boromir said firmly. "No one, not even Father, will stop me from wedding my true love."
"Bravo, my love!" Pharazphel said proudly, "I heartily agree with that."
"I applaud you, too," Faramir agreed. "Even if Father does not have Pharazphel as a daughter, I will be glad to have a sister."
"Boromir said you would say that," Pharazphel laughed.
"Sometimes my brother knows me better than I know myself," Faramir replied.
"Come, let us retire now," Boromir said. "Good night, Faramir."
Boromir and Pharazphel then settled into their chambers. Boromir helped Pharazphel into the bed before he joined her. Both of them dozed off to sleep thinking about tomorrow and beyond. In their dreams, they were merry and thought of the coming joy they would share.
The next morning, Boromir and Pharazphel were preparing to make their announcement to Denethor. Once again, Boromir was as stressed as ever.
"How do I tell him?" Boromir asked.
"When last I knew, you simply open your mouth and speak," Pharazphel said slyly.
"Only you could make me smile with a jest at a time like this," Boromir laughed.
"Boromir, you need not worry about your father," Pharazphel comforted. "If he truly loves you, then he'll give you the world."
"I can only pray he does," Boromir said grimly.
Hand-in-hand, Boromir and Pharazphel entered the chamber. Lord Denethor sat at his stone seat. As they drew nearer, Boromir's heart began to race and he could feel the sweat on his brow. He knew there was no turning aside now.
"Father," he greeted.
"There is my firstborn," Denethor greeted warmly. "I am told that you were out celebrating all night."
"Indeed, I was," Boromir replied.
"Behaving like a true man of Gondor," Denethor praised.
"It was not only the victory at Osgiliath that I celebrated," Boromir said.
"Oh, and what else might you have been celebrating?" Denethor wanted to know.
Boromir took a deep breath. "Father, I should pray for your blessing now. Pharazphel and I are betrothed and we ask your blessing to wed."
"And you find this cause for celebration?" Denethor said pointedly.
"Father, please," Boromir begged.
"You intend to be united with this witless Rohan woman," Denethor snarled. "This is a cause for mourning than celebration. Why do you not slay me instead of torturing me?"
"I have never meant you harm, Father, and I have always done your will," Boromir argued. "Why can you not accept what makes me happy?"
"Boromir has only made a promise to marry me. When last I knew, marriage was not a crime," Pharazphel argued.
"Be silent, you sorceress!" Denethor growled.
"Why do you not accept me? What have I ever done to displease you?" Pharazphel demanded.
"You are born of Rohan, a country that has betrayed us for many years. You are not worthy of a mighty man like my son," Denethor replied coldly.
"Boromir and I think differently than you," Pharazphel countered.
"Why should we unite with Rohan? Why should you join with a woman such as her?" Denethor demanded.
"I love her, Father!" Boromir cried. "I cannot stand to be parted from her again. I shall wed her with or without your blessing. If that means that I must be forever parted from you, then so be it. All I ask is that you give me the gift of your blessing. I shall never ask anything of you again."
There was silence in the room. The temperature in the chamber seemed to drop dramatically.
"You are certain that you love her, my son?" Denethor asked.
"With all of my being," Boromir answered.
"And what of you, Rohan woman?" Denethor questioned.
"Lord Denethor, my name is Pharazphel," Pharazphel corrected him distantly.
"Pharazphel, daughter of Pharazpher, do you love my son?" Denethor questioned.
"With everything in my heart," Pharazphel answered earnestly.
"I do not believe that this woman is worthy of you, my son," Denethor said gravely. "But I love you, and I shall not deny you anything. You have my blessing to wed your true love."
Boromir smiled with great joy. "Thank you, Father!"
Denethor quitted the hall. Boromir and Pharazphel then embraced, spinning madly about the room. Both of them felt as if they had won a great battle.
"Allow me this moment to say 'I told you so'," Pharazphel jested.
"I shall allow anything to my future bride," Boromir said happily.
"Then may I request something of my future husband?" Pharazphel asked.
"Anything," Boromir replied.
"Kiss me," Pharazphel whispered.
Boromir and Pharazphel filled into each other's arms and their lips met. For that time, there was no one in the world but them. For that moment, all that remained was their love.