I sat on the bed with my head in my hands after the elf had left.
I felt demoralized. I had come all this way and now the elf said I was sick! How could I be sick? I never got sick. Perhaps he was mistaken.
Tired of sitting I lay back with a bit of a shiver. Well, perhaps a little more rest would do me some good. Just a little. I had reached my destination after all and if this Lord Elrond was indeed busy with the needs of one of his other guests, well, that just meant I would have to wait awhile before he got to mine.
A good soldier knows how to wait.
As I waited for the day I would be Steward. I winced slightly at the thought. Of course, that would mean my father had died and I meant him no disrespect. I loved my father. He was harsh at times, but so would any man be in his position. He was a good man for all that and a great Steward. Perhaps one of the finest Gondor has ever seen. I only hope I can measure up to his legacy when the time comes. But for now, perhaps, I could rest a little bit.
The bed was quite comfortable and even though it was so late into the night, the room did not feel cool. I was a bit warm in fact. I divested myself of my trews and leggings and lay back in just a tunic. That felt much better.
I must have dozed off some.
I opened my eyes and found the dark gray ones of Elrond looking at me. They again picked up the light of the dim candle at my bedside and were hard to turn away from. He had lifted my head off the pillow and was about to feed me his concoction. I sat up quickly and brushed my hair out of my face. "No, no my lord, that will not be necessary. I am no babe." I took the goblet quickly drank the contents.
By Iluvatar's beard, it was a nasty flavored thing and I almost spit it back up. I will swear the elf had a slight smile on his face. He was not poisoning me was he? No, no, of course not. He would never do such a thing to a one such as I; the repercussions would be enormous.
I found myself lying down again, the pounding receding like the march of armored feet echoing off the walls surrounding Minas Tirith. The echoing and the fading...the steps were fading. I closed my eyes, but they sprang open when I felt a hand on my forehead. The elf bent over me, his face softened some, his hand warm and comforting on my brow. "Sleep Boromir. Your dreams will be silent this night." I slept.
It was quite late the next morning when I awoke. And I awoke slowly, my head felt rather wooly and thick. I was covered to my chin in a quilt and when I turned my head I could see a tray of covered dishes on the small table next to the arches.
It was raining. And I admit, I did not want to rise. At home no matter what the weather, I had to rise and see to the daily watch and listen in on my father's councils and make sure the weapons were in good repair. I was always busy.
But here, what was I to do? I had no work to do, nothing to inspect, nothing to oversee. I rolled over and sighed. But surely I could find something here to do, if it was nothing more than helping in the stables or fletching arrows; I could find some way to occupy my time productively.
Until, I could have speech with Lord Elrond about my dream.
I sat up slowly and brought a hand to my head. It did not pound but I did feel a bit disoriented. Undoubtedly the medicine I had been given did not agree with me. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and then stood. The room began to spin rather alarmingly and I found myself sitting on the bed again.
Could I really be ill?
I tried to stand again and found myself leaning against the wall behind the headboard. And then my stomach rebelled and I ran for the water closet and got very sick, I washed my face and stared at my reflection in the now still water of the basin on the table. I looked sick! Unfocused and rumpled! How had this happened?
Perhaps it really was this place...the world of the elves did not agree with me.
I stumbled back to the bed with every intention of getting dressed and leaving. But my head whirled sickeningly again and I am embarrassed to say I passed out like a raw recruit at his first barracks party.
My first day in this land of the elves and I am as sick as if I had swamp fever picked up on a long march. I could not even eat, though I did try. But once again, it was light fare and not to my liking: fruit, cheese, some rolls and fruit juice. No ale or wine. But even those paltry things did not remain with me long. I lay in bed feverish and miserable, trying to rest. And it was good I had no visitors except at some point, the tray of food had been removed.
When I was awake I tried to discipline my mind at least by going through the last campaign training I had put my men through, but I could not remember clearly how they were deployed. In frustration, I would sleep.
But at least the elf had been correct: my dream did not come back.
Evening came, and the rain lessened some. Half-awake, I listened to the sound of the water dripping off the roof. It was actually pleasant.
I jerked suddenly as I felt that warm hand on my brow again. How was it I kept missing this elf's entrance! Being sick has certainly eroded my soldier's alertness. Startled I sat up, which did my head no good.
But the elf laid me back. "You are indeed ill Boromir. I would have come sooner perhaps. But my other ill guest prevented me."
"How do they fare?" I asked politely. One never knew where one could find allies.
"His condition is grave." And he said no more.
"I am sorry for it then."
The elf merely nodded, smiled slightly and turned to leave. No doubt to make me another vile medicine.
And shortly Lord Elrond reappeared, followed by another elf with a tray. I sat up slowly. mindful of my head. "What is all this my lord? I do not need anything special."
"However, you do need a few restoratives Boromir. And you need to eat something light. It is just a little broth and water."
My stomach roiled. "I would really like a glass of ale my lord, if you can provide it." Bold of me to ask, but I wished to see the limits of his hospitality.
"Ale would be fine. Gardiniel, would you please bring Boromir some of the spring ale. It should be light enough I think." The other one bowed and left.
No doubt with a floral aftertaste I thought smiling inwardly.
The elf handed me the first of three goblets, which I drank in succession, schooling my features to blandness. Once again, they were vile. But my stomach did feel less uneasy.
Bringing me the tray with the broth and a roll, he set it before me in my lap. Stepping back he watched me a moment, his dark eyes glittering with warmth. "Try the broth." Nodding, a bit embarrassed, I did as he asked. It was surprisingly flavorful, and more importantly, did not seek return.
"That is an improvement, I am sure. Finish the broth Boromir and then sleep. I will try to visit with you tomorrow."
"I appreciate your help my lord. No doubt I shall be up and about in the morning."
"Perhaps Boromir. But I would prefer you to wait until I have seen you."
I nodded. "As you will my lord." But I knew tomorrow I would be dressed and out and about before the sun had topped the edges of the Misty Mountains behind us.
I had not had so much attention since, well, quite some time before my mother died I am sure. I felt the veriest little boy with a bad cold. And I did not like feeling so beholden to anyone not my kin.
But seeing he would not leave until I had finished the bowl, I made short work of it and the roll. I was very grateful I did not get sick again.
He took the tray from me, and I found myself feeling very sleepy, and I sank back down under the quilt.
It must have been the soup.
Lord Elrond bent and touched my brow once more, no doubt to test for fever, but I was asleep before his hand left me.
I felt demoralized. I had come all this way and now the elf said I was sick! How could I be sick? I never got sick. Perhaps he was mistaken.
Tired of sitting I lay back with a bit of a shiver. Well, perhaps a little more rest would do me some good. Just a little. I had reached my destination after all and if this Lord Elrond was indeed busy with the needs of one of his other guests, well, that just meant I would have to wait awhile before he got to mine.
A good soldier knows how to wait.
As I waited for the day I would be Steward. I winced slightly at the thought. Of course, that would mean my father had died and I meant him no disrespect. I loved my father. He was harsh at times, but so would any man be in his position. He was a good man for all that and a great Steward. Perhaps one of the finest Gondor has ever seen. I only hope I can measure up to his legacy when the time comes. But for now, perhaps, I could rest a little bit.
The bed was quite comfortable and even though it was so late into the night, the room did not feel cool. I was a bit warm in fact. I divested myself of my trews and leggings and lay back in just a tunic. That felt much better.
I must have dozed off some.
I opened my eyes and found the dark gray ones of Elrond looking at me. They again picked up the light of the dim candle at my bedside and were hard to turn away from. He had lifted my head off the pillow and was about to feed me his concoction. I sat up quickly and brushed my hair out of my face. "No, no my lord, that will not be necessary. I am no babe." I took the goblet quickly drank the contents.
By Iluvatar's beard, it was a nasty flavored thing and I almost spit it back up. I will swear the elf had a slight smile on his face. He was not poisoning me was he? No, no, of course not. He would never do such a thing to a one such as I; the repercussions would be enormous.
I found myself lying down again, the pounding receding like the march of armored feet echoing off the walls surrounding Minas Tirith. The echoing and the fading...the steps were fading. I closed my eyes, but they sprang open when I felt a hand on my forehead. The elf bent over me, his face softened some, his hand warm and comforting on my brow. "Sleep Boromir. Your dreams will be silent this night." I slept.
It was quite late the next morning when I awoke. And I awoke slowly, my head felt rather wooly and thick. I was covered to my chin in a quilt and when I turned my head I could see a tray of covered dishes on the small table next to the arches.
It was raining. And I admit, I did not want to rise. At home no matter what the weather, I had to rise and see to the daily watch and listen in on my father's councils and make sure the weapons were in good repair. I was always busy.
But here, what was I to do? I had no work to do, nothing to inspect, nothing to oversee. I rolled over and sighed. But surely I could find something here to do, if it was nothing more than helping in the stables or fletching arrows; I could find some way to occupy my time productively.
Until, I could have speech with Lord Elrond about my dream.
I sat up slowly and brought a hand to my head. It did not pound but I did feel a bit disoriented. Undoubtedly the medicine I had been given did not agree with me. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and then stood. The room began to spin rather alarmingly and I found myself sitting on the bed again.
Could I really be ill?
I tried to stand again and found myself leaning against the wall behind the headboard. And then my stomach rebelled and I ran for the water closet and got very sick, I washed my face and stared at my reflection in the now still water of the basin on the table. I looked sick! Unfocused and rumpled! How had this happened?
Perhaps it really was this place...the world of the elves did not agree with me.
I stumbled back to the bed with every intention of getting dressed and leaving. But my head whirled sickeningly again and I am embarrassed to say I passed out like a raw recruit at his first barracks party.
My first day in this land of the elves and I am as sick as if I had swamp fever picked up on a long march. I could not even eat, though I did try. But once again, it was light fare and not to my liking: fruit, cheese, some rolls and fruit juice. No ale or wine. But even those paltry things did not remain with me long. I lay in bed feverish and miserable, trying to rest. And it was good I had no visitors except at some point, the tray of food had been removed.
When I was awake I tried to discipline my mind at least by going through the last campaign training I had put my men through, but I could not remember clearly how they were deployed. In frustration, I would sleep.
But at least the elf had been correct: my dream did not come back.
Evening came, and the rain lessened some. Half-awake, I listened to the sound of the water dripping off the roof. It was actually pleasant.
I jerked suddenly as I felt that warm hand on my brow again. How was it I kept missing this elf's entrance! Being sick has certainly eroded my soldier's alertness. Startled I sat up, which did my head no good.
But the elf laid me back. "You are indeed ill Boromir. I would have come sooner perhaps. But my other ill guest prevented me."
"How do they fare?" I asked politely. One never knew where one could find allies.
"His condition is grave." And he said no more.
"I am sorry for it then."
The elf merely nodded, smiled slightly and turned to leave. No doubt to make me another vile medicine.
And shortly Lord Elrond reappeared, followed by another elf with a tray. I sat up slowly. mindful of my head. "What is all this my lord? I do not need anything special."
"However, you do need a few restoratives Boromir. And you need to eat something light. It is just a little broth and water."
My stomach roiled. "I would really like a glass of ale my lord, if you can provide it." Bold of me to ask, but I wished to see the limits of his hospitality.
"Ale would be fine. Gardiniel, would you please bring Boromir some of the spring ale. It should be light enough I think." The other one bowed and left.
No doubt with a floral aftertaste I thought smiling inwardly.
The elf handed me the first of three goblets, which I drank in succession, schooling my features to blandness. Once again, they were vile. But my stomach did feel less uneasy.
Bringing me the tray with the broth and a roll, he set it before me in my lap. Stepping back he watched me a moment, his dark eyes glittering with warmth. "Try the broth." Nodding, a bit embarrassed, I did as he asked. It was surprisingly flavorful, and more importantly, did not seek return.
"That is an improvement, I am sure. Finish the broth Boromir and then sleep. I will try to visit with you tomorrow."
"I appreciate your help my lord. No doubt I shall be up and about in the morning."
"Perhaps Boromir. But I would prefer you to wait until I have seen you."
I nodded. "As you will my lord." But I knew tomorrow I would be dressed and out and about before the sun had topped the edges of the Misty Mountains behind us.
I had not had so much attention since, well, quite some time before my mother died I am sure. I felt the veriest little boy with a bad cold. And I did not like feeling so beholden to anyone not my kin.
But seeing he would not leave until I had finished the bowl, I made short work of it and the roll. I was very grateful I did not get sick again.
He took the tray from me, and I found myself feeling very sleepy, and I sank back down under the quilt.
It must have been the soup.
Lord Elrond bent and touched my brow once more, no doubt to test for fever, but I was asleep before his hand left me.