Chapter Two
A/N As indicated in the previous note, this chapter is narrated by our happy wanderer himself. Given Boromir's tendency towards verbosity (ah, those long dramatic speeches!) I think perhaps the following chapters will not be narrated in this way.
Know first [he began] that I am Boromir son of Faramir, steward of Gondor, servant of the King, Elessar, and his wife Arwen. I was named after my father's elder brother, who fell honourably in battle some years before my birth; it was under my father's stewardship that the King returned to claim his inheritance, following great and valiant deeds of which even a creature such as yourself must no doubt have heard.
As a child I was fey and roamed the lands outside the borders of my home. I cared little for book learning but favoured adventure and swordplay over all; thus, my early youth was spent escaping the drudgery of the study of lore by abandoning my homeland and expanding my travels. It was on such a long journey, at a tender age, that I first found the Shire, a peaceful place inhabited by the beings that we call Halflings, and which call themselves Hobbits. My desire to visit them was driven mostly by the stories which my father had told me, about the Dark Lord Sauron and the One Ring, and the Fellowship of which my uncle and the King himself were members, of the Halfling who bore the Ring to Mordor and destroyed it, and the return of peace and freedom to Middle-Earth with Sauron's fall. These tales enchanted me; they became my great obsession, which was fuelled by the reminisces of three Hobbits who had journeyed with the original company. When I visited the Shire, I found the Mayor to be none other than Samwise Gamgee, whose name will be forever associated with the Ringbearer; it was he who welcomed me to his household and satisfied my curiosity with endless tales of the Fellowship and its Quest. He also showed me a wonderful book written in part by the Ringbearer himself. And it was there that I met for the first time Sam's eldest daughter Elanor and his son Frodo, of whom I will have more to say shortly.
When I return home from my journey, it occurred to me that King Elessar would certainly be able to satisfy my burning curiosity about the Fellowship of the Ring if only he would; despite my boldness, however, I had not quite the audacity to ask such a thing, although I had been in the King's presence on several occasions. I took therefore to haunting the grounds of the Citadel, hoping that by chance I should see the King and speak with him; and it was there that I met the love of my life and the bane of my heart, the Princess Istelardai; the beautiful, blessed, half- elven daughter of the King. My soul was no longer my own.
She came upon me as I sat alone beside a clear fountain, playing my lyre; she thought the song was pretty and begged me to play it again, which of course I did…she was younger than I, and had seen less of the world, but nevertheless we soon fell to talking, and remained for the most part of the day together, only interrupted by the arrival of the King her father, who smilingly informed me that while I was welcome in his home, my parents were rapidly becoming convinced that I had expired, and thought of sending search parties to find me.
From that day Istelardai and I were friends; I was her favourite playmate, and my stories of my travels and the Fellowship of the Ring, about which she knew surprisingly little, seemed to amuse her. In her heart the princess was every bit as wild and bold as I, and it was with her encouragement that I proposed, on the twenty-first anniversary of the forming of the Fellowship, to gain permission from King Elessar to set out with a band of representatives in the hope of retreading the footsteps of that famous company. It is the tale of that Quest which I now intend to tell you: the story of The Pilgrimage of the Ring.
A/N Phew! How he does go on ;-) don't worry, the next chapter is written entirely in the third person, and with PLENTY OF DIALOGUE! Apologies for the above monologue, as I said the story writes itself…so blame Boromir! Please review…flames will be fed to my Balrog.
*A/N I really hope this means something like 'silver light of the realm'. Corrections?
A/N As indicated in the previous note, this chapter is narrated by our happy wanderer himself. Given Boromir's tendency towards verbosity (ah, those long dramatic speeches!) I think perhaps the following chapters will not be narrated in this way.
Know first [he began] that I am Boromir son of Faramir, steward of Gondor, servant of the King, Elessar, and his wife Arwen. I was named after my father's elder brother, who fell honourably in battle some years before my birth; it was under my father's stewardship that the King returned to claim his inheritance, following great and valiant deeds of which even a creature such as yourself must no doubt have heard.
As a child I was fey and roamed the lands outside the borders of my home. I cared little for book learning but favoured adventure and swordplay over all; thus, my early youth was spent escaping the drudgery of the study of lore by abandoning my homeland and expanding my travels. It was on such a long journey, at a tender age, that I first found the Shire, a peaceful place inhabited by the beings that we call Halflings, and which call themselves Hobbits. My desire to visit them was driven mostly by the stories which my father had told me, about the Dark Lord Sauron and the One Ring, and the Fellowship of which my uncle and the King himself were members, of the Halfling who bore the Ring to Mordor and destroyed it, and the return of peace and freedom to Middle-Earth with Sauron's fall. These tales enchanted me; they became my great obsession, which was fuelled by the reminisces of three Hobbits who had journeyed with the original company. When I visited the Shire, I found the Mayor to be none other than Samwise Gamgee, whose name will be forever associated with the Ringbearer; it was he who welcomed me to his household and satisfied my curiosity with endless tales of the Fellowship and its Quest. He also showed me a wonderful book written in part by the Ringbearer himself. And it was there that I met for the first time Sam's eldest daughter Elanor and his son Frodo, of whom I will have more to say shortly.
When I return home from my journey, it occurred to me that King Elessar would certainly be able to satisfy my burning curiosity about the Fellowship of the Ring if only he would; despite my boldness, however, I had not quite the audacity to ask such a thing, although I had been in the King's presence on several occasions. I took therefore to haunting the grounds of the Citadel, hoping that by chance I should see the King and speak with him; and it was there that I met the love of my life and the bane of my heart, the Princess Istelardai; the beautiful, blessed, half- elven daughter of the King. My soul was no longer my own.
She came upon me as I sat alone beside a clear fountain, playing my lyre; she thought the song was pretty and begged me to play it again, which of course I did…she was younger than I, and had seen less of the world, but nevertheless we soon fell to talking, and remained for the most part of the day together, only interrupted by the arrival of the King her father, who smilingly informed me that while I was welcome in his home, my parents were rapidly becoming convinced that I had expired, and thought of sending search parties to find me.
From that day Istelardai and I were friends; I was her favourite playmate, and my stories of my travels and the Fellowship of the Ring, about which she knew surprisingly little, seemed to amuse her. In her heart the princess was every bit as wild and bold as I, and it was with her encouragement that I proposed, on the twenty-first anniversary of the forming of the Fellowship, to gain permission from King Elessar to set out with a band of representatives in the hope of retreading the footsteps of that famous company. It is the tale of that Quest which I now intend to tell you: the story of The Pilgrimage of the Ring.
A/N Phew! How he does go on ;-) don't worry, the next chapter is written entirely in the third person, and with PLENTY OF DIALOGUE! Apologies for the above monologue, as I said the story writes itself…so blame Boromir! Please review…flames will be fed to my Balrog.
*A/N I really hope this means something like 'silver light of the realm'. Corrections?