Paths of Peril -- A Dynasty Broken Book II

By Adara

This chapter deals with the feast the night before the Great Council. It is told from Boromir's point of view. I used Tolkien's descriptions, though not verbatim. Boromir and Aragorn have developed the beginnings of a good friendship. I have included Elrond's sons. I know that Tolkien did not have them in Rivendell at the time of the feast or the Council, but I feel they add something to this plot.

Making Merry

The Last Homely House was filled with the ringing of many bells. The melodious sounds echoed throughout the Lord Elrond's home, summoning one and all to a celebration. The Ring Bearer had recovered and a great feast had been prepared in his honor.

Aragorn stood just inside the entrance to Boromir's chamber; he had volunteered to escort Gondor's heir to the feast. Now he stood and watched as his rival for the rule of the greatest nation in Middle-earth fastened his rich, fur-lined cloak with a silver brooch upon which the white tree of Gondor had been etched. Aragorn decided that the Man looked every inch the ruler he had been trained to be.

Boromir sensed he was being studied and looked up quickly. His gaze was met and held for a few seconds by the clear gray eyes of the Ranger of the North. "What are you thinking?"

"That you will be a strong Steward when your time comes." Boromir quickly turned his head and busied himself with searching for a cane that had been specially made for him by the Elves. He did not want the Ranger to see the surprise he felt at the unexpected compliment. His father had repeatedly warned that a successful ruler never let anyone see his emotions or guess what he was thinking. To hide his discomfort at the compliment, Boromir changed the subject. "This celebration. Do you know the purpose for it?"

Aragorn laughed. The lightness of the sound made Boromir feel a bit envious. It had been a long time since he had laughed so gaily. "Elves need no reason to throw a celebration. In truth, they celebrate almost anything and everything -- the rising of the sun, the setting of the same, the dawn of spring -- Elves are lighthearted and love to sing and make merry. However, there is a special occasion for this particular feast. An honored guest was gravely injured and is now recovered. Even as yourself. So you could say we celebrate the good fortune of those whose journey to Rivendell was marred by injury, but whose recovery from those injuries has been most satisfactory." Boromir fixed the other with a curious stare.

"Who is this other 'honored guest' and how was he injured?"

Aragorn smiled enigmatically. "Come with me if you wish to know. You are in need of some lighthearted entertainment, and the Lord of Imladris is famous for his hospitality."

* * * * * * * * *

Boromir stood beneath the great arch that marked the entrance to the hall of Elrond's house. His jaw dropped slightly as he beheld the fair folk that filled the enormous space. Most of the guests were Elves bedecked in their finest raiment. The vibrant colors of their clothes and the rich hues of their hair made the hall shimmer and glow, much as a rainbow against a blazing blue sky. The Ranger touched Boromir's arm lightly and nodded his head toward the folk seated at a long table upon a dais. Boromir saw the Lord Elrond seated in a great chair at the end of the table. On his left sat the old wizard; on his right sat an Elf with hair of shining gold. The Elf's face was fair and young; his eyes bright and keen. When his gaze fell upon the son of Denethor, it seemed it held the wisdom of the ages. The Man could only stare in awe.

Aragorn followed Boromir's gaze, leaned close and whispered, "That is Glorfindel, one of the Elven-wise. He is a lord of the Eldar from beyond the furthest seas -- one of the mighty of the First-born. I doubt you shall see another like him in your lifetime. Excuse me for a moment, for I see someone with whom I must speak." Aragorn bowed slightly and moved soundlessly away. Boromir soon lost sight of him as he vanished into the throng of merrymakers. Turning his gaze back to the table on the dais, Boromir studied his host. Like most of the Elves, Elrond's face was ageless. His hair was as dark as the shadows of twilight, and upon it was set a circlet of silver. He looked very wise and noble.

Boromir caught sight of the Ranger again and watched as he approached a chair beneath a canopy. On the chair sat a lady so fair to look upon that the Man forgot to breathe. Her luxurious dark hair was braided and, above her brow, her head was covered with a cap of silver lace netted with small white gems that glittered in the torchlight. Her pale, smooth skin was flawless; her form was slender and graceful. But it was her eyes that drew him to her mostly, for he thought he saw the light of stars in bright eyes as gray as a cloudless night. Boromir felt a pang of jealousy to see that the Ranger seemed to have more than a passing acquaintance with the beautiful lady. He watched as the Man lightly placed his hand upon her shoulder as he bent to listen to her words. Their gaze was intimate and she favored the Ranger with a smile so radiant it rivaled the brilliance of the sun. Who is this wondrous creature? She clearly bears a close resemblance to the Lord Elrond, so perhaps she is his kinswoman.

"I see you are admiring Lord Elrond's daughter, the Lady Arwen." Boromir jumped slightly, for he had not sensed the presence of the one who spoke. He turned his head until he could see the Elf who stood beside him. He was surprised to see Haldir. "I thought you would be walking the Golden Woods by now, Master Elf. Have you decided to join me on my journey homeward?"

Haldir shook his head and produced a rueful smile. "Nay, I leave after the Council. I would have left sooner but the Lord Elrohir convinced me to accompany him on a scouting mission. It has been many years since I have seen the sons of Elrond, and I could not refuse the chance to catch up on the gossip of Imladris."

Boromir looked at the Elf speculatively. "And did you, in turn, share recent events in Lorien with your companions?"

Haldir assumed the indignant expression of one who has been grievously wronged. "I have said naught of that which concerns you and your lady, if that if the subject of your concern. I value Eledwhen's friendship too highly to risk losing it by the spreading of idle gossip. Have no fear, Man of Gondor, your secret is safe with me; although, I see no reason to keep your wife a secret. Unless, perhaps…" Haldir's eyes strayed to the Lady Arwen as he spoke. Boromir followed his gaze across the room and then scowled fiercely as the inference sank deep.

"I have said naught because I do not wish to bring dishonor upon the one I love. We have not been wed, and I would not have others speak ill of the Princess Eledwhen."

Haldir grinned broadly and slapped the Man on his back. "You are married, you great oaf! You two pledged yourselves both verbally and physically to remain one for the rest of your lives. That is all it takes under Elven law. If you choose to remarry under mortal laws, that is your business. But do not worry about your lady's honor, for she is your wife legally and I would kill any folk who said differently."

Boromir was surprised and more than a little pleased to hear Haldir defend Eledwhen so vehemently. He started to ask the Elf why he had not been told this rather important piece of information sooner, but stopped when he saw Aragorn motion for him to join those on the dais. "I would continue this conversation at a later time," the Man said solemnly. Haldir produced an overly exaggerated bow and moved away swiftly to join two Elves who were as close in looks as two peas in a pod. With a start, he realized that he was looking at two Elladans. Moving his gaze back to the Ranger and the Elf beside him, Boromir gave a slight nod of his head in acknowledgement and began picking his way through the crowd. Since most of those attending the feast were Elves, the Man felt like a bull charging through a field of wheat, which was to say he felt incredibly ungraceful.

Upon reaching Aragorn's side, Boromir bowed respectfully toward Arwen. "Your beauty literally takes my breath away, my lady."

Elrond's daughter smiled prettily and turned her lovely eyes upon the Ranger. "You were wrong, my love. He is quite the charmer." Turning to look at their guest from the South, who was blushing furiously and doing a poor job of hiding it, Arwen motioned for him to sit next to her. Boromir sat somewhat awkwardly, (thanks to his leg still being in a splint) and placed the delicately carved cane to the side of the chair. He looked at the lady beside him, but her attention had been drawn to a small child-like figure being seated across the table. Boromir scrutinized the newcomer closely and noticed that, although he had been seated upon several cushions, his shoulders were still only even with the tabletop. Whatever this creature was, it looked very small seated among all the tall folk, and very out of place. "It is called a Hobbit, and this feast is in his honor," offered the Lady Arwen helpfully before turning her attention to Aragorn.

As Boromir continued his study of the Hobbit, a richly garbed dwarf of important appearance sat down on the creature's right. The dwarf's white beard was very long and forked. The Man strained to hear their conversation, but could discern nothing other than the initial greeting by the dwarf of "Welcome and well met!" Disappointed, Boromir turned his attention back to the Lady Arwen. She is more beautiful than Eledwhen in some ways, but not so beautiful in other ways. But then, to compare the two is akin to comparing night and day, for Eledwhen is as bright and pure and as radiant as the day, while the Lady Arwen is as dark and mysterious and as lovely as the night. The lady turned her head and bestowed upon him a beatific smile. Gently she placed a delicate white hand upon his arm and whispered, "You must tell me of your lady love sometime."

The Man began to stammer a reply but Arwen stopped him with a silvery laugh. "There is no need for embarrassment. I cannot read your thoughts, but only catch the occasional feelings of strong emotion and what lies behind those feelings. I sense that you are in love and that you miss her greatly. But we shall, perhaps, speak of this later. You should eat, for your plate remains untouched. You are missing some of the greatest cooking in all Middle-earth." Wanting to please this gracious lady, Boromir picked up his fork and set to his plate.

* * * * * * * * *

The feast finally came to an end, and Elrond and Arwen went down the hall arm in arm. Aragorn moved to Boromir's chair and handed him the Elven-made cane. "Hurry or you will miss the singing and story-telling." Boromir frowned and shook his head from side to side.

"I believe I will skip the merriment. I am tired and would prefer to rest. I will need my strength tomorrow, for I hear the Council will most likely last the entire day. I understand from speaking with the Lord Elrond that I will learn the answer to my riddle. Since it is for this reason that I spent approximately three months on the road, I believe I should make certain I am not asleep when the meaning is revealed."

Aragorn grinned and offered Boromir help rising from the chair. However, the Man dismissed him with a wave. "You are more needed elsewhere. I believe there is a beautiful lady who desires your company. I would not leave her waiting too long, if I were you. There are many Elves about and all are more comely to look at than are you. Do not give them a chance to encroach upon what territory you have claimed."

The Ranger roared with laughter, managed to speak his leave taking, and then disappeared down the hall in the direction taken by Elrond and his daughter. Boromir began the long walk back to his chamber, serenaded by the sound of elvish minstrels making sweet music.

* * * * * * * * *

Gondor's heir was in sight of his chamber when he heard loud arguing. Curious, he stopped to listen. Boromir could make out two male voices that could only belong to Elves. "I tell you that there will be trouble when he learns who Estel is. Father should not permit him to attend the Council tomorrow."

The voice of the second Elf sounded somewhat piqued. "Elladan, the Lord of Imladris cannot snub the Steward's son because you are afraid he may pick a fight with our foster brother. And even should he be so brash as to challenge Estel to a sword fight, I doubt he could win. His leg is broken, you ninny!"

Boromir moved closer to where the two voices emanated. The owners of those voices were standing in an alcove and were hidden from the Man's sight. Boromir remembered Elladan, who had been with the party that had escorted him and Haldir to Imladris. But he was perplexed as to why the Elf would think he would be interested in challenging this Estel to a fight. Especially as they called him their foster brother. Elladan insults me, for no Man of Gondor would bring shame upon himself by fighting with his host's son, whether he is a son by blood or no. Boromir started to approach the two brothers to confront them, but was distracted by a loud crashing noise at the opposite end of the hallway. He heard what sounded like an elvish curse and decided that the confrontation could wait until after the Council.

The Man limped stiffly into his chamber, unaware that Elladan had stepped into the hallway and was watching him. Elrohir moved beside him and followed his brother's gaze. "I think you are being too judgmental. He is not a fool."

Elladan looked gravely at his twin brother. "Yet he is Denethor's son. That makes him a danger to Aragorn. I shall watch him closely, even if you will not."

Elrohir watched his brother stalk noiselessly down the hallway. Once the other was out of sight, his eyes shifted to the entrance to Boromir's chamber. How much of our conversation did he hear, I wonder? Sighing, Elrond's younger son walked slowly toward the Hall of Fire, where the celebration was now well under way.

To be continued