I was determined when I awoke there would be no more bed rest.
I had had enough.
Where I am from, we do not tend to coddle every little illness into leaving, we exercise it out of our systems. It is best that way. Makes one strong.
Perhaps it was different for the elves. Looking about my room, I felt that their way of living was much more soft than the men of Gondor. There was actually a vase of flowers in my room and the flowers had been changed while I slept! Perhaps the elves' women folk controlled these things.
The sun was rising between racing clouds and the air was bracing and crisp when I got up. An excellent morning for a ride.
I was a bit dizzy when I stood and got dressed but I took a few pieces of fruit with me. I laughed as I tossed them in the air. Dullan would probably enjoy them more than I!
I stepped out of my room and remembering the route I took into this House, I, with only a few missteps, found the outer courtyard and soon thereafter, the stables.
The cool air made me feel much more awake and my spells of dizziness I just dismissed as hunger. I would eat after I had gotten my ride. The ride would do me more good than the fruit. (and Dullan enjoyed his apple!)
Saddling up my lively stallion, I quickly mounted and took off out into the courtyard, over the narrow bridge (the one sign of defense here that showed some sense). The bridge was barely big enough for a cart or two to ride abreast on. And it was a sturdy well made bridge, showing less decorative and useless elements than the House proper.
I winced as Dullan settled into a trot. Riding brought to mind that which I had forgot.
The sharp rocks I had fell onto when hunting last week because the path I was taking crumbled beneath my boots. I had been stabbed in two places in my back. The dream and sleeping in the comfortable bed allowed me to forget about them. But riding reminded me of my folly. And I had gotten no dinner that night either.
The ride was pleasant as the pain settled into a dull ache easily ignored, especially as I knew I did not have to go a certain number of leagues before I made camp. And Dullan sensed the fact this was just a ride to stretch the legs and nothing more.
But in spite of the brisk air, I found myself more and more tired and light- headed. I must have breakfast. And certainly they could provide something a bit more toothsome than fruit and cheese!
That ale had not been bad, though indeed it had had some kind of light flavor in it. But it was certainly a better offering than water or juice.
Though Dullan was reluctant, I turned his head around and we headed back to the elven refuge.
Saluting the guards as I rode through I wondered if perhaps I could at least practice my sword work. Surely some of these elves could wield a sword well enough for me to have someone to practice with.
And yes, I am well aware of my history. I know of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. But that was also a millennium ago. Who knew what the elves had allowed themselves to become in the mean time?
They rode horses bare back!
And this Rivendell was full of paintings and statues and intricately made goblets and furniture. Why my bed had mountains and trees carved into the headboard. Very cunningly done with different woods.
Once I dismounted from Dullan, I led him back into the stables and gave him the other apple I had taken from my room.
I was not hungry now, but I did have a great thirst. Passing elves as I went back to my room I tried to avoid looking into their faces too much. So many of them were as pretty as women! I am not used to men looking as soft as their women folk.
Back in my room I was glad to see there was another pitcher of ale and I drank all of it rather quickly, which did not do my head any good.
I sat on the edge of my bed and exhaustion ambushed me with no warning. I could not keep my eyes open.
The dream had come back
The Sword that was Broken was being wielded by someone I could not see. Their features were hidden by their swift movements. Isildur's Bane! They were fighting Isildur's Bane!! I could not tell what it was but it was something all together evil and it sensed my presence. I fought, but I had no weapon. It got closer and closer and there was a great heat....
I awoke, sweating and my back was painful where I lay on it.
I sat up my head aching fiercely. This must cease. I could no longer be at the whim of this terrible dream that had goaded me on to the North. It was like a nagging troop captain who would not let you rest on a march, who kept pushing you further and further, beyond your limit.
Except this dream was not for my good. It was a whip, a cat o nine tails flailing me with its images until I felt I would go mad.
And though I felt as if I was being weak by not dealing with this myself, I realized I had not the weapons to fight it. Nor had any one in Minas Tirith. So I found myself in this strange unsettling place full of...elves. And if only an elf could help me unravel this knotted fear that pummeled me constantly, then so be it.
I must find Lord Elrond before this dream consumed me and I was no longer fit to be my father's heir.
I got up, weaving like a drunk. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my tunic and brushed back my hair with my hands.
I would find Lord Elrond and I would make him listen to what I carried, like an unwelcome yammering guest, in my head.
And to think! This had been my younger brother Faramir's curse initially! He was the one who had the dream first! And yet, his simple telling of it one morning in the stables as we both set out to ride to our daily tasks ensnared my mind and that night, I dreamed of the Sword that was Broken.
It became my unwanted burden to bear until it drove me out of Minas Tirith with my father's instructions burning in my ear.
To have it made clear and to bring back to Minas Tirith a son and heir who's purpose was strong and whose dream would bode well for Gondor.
I walked with a dry mouth and I will admit, with much trepidation, through this house of winding corridors and open rooms and tapestries and statues everywhere.
So much clutter!
But I could not find the Master of the House though I did ask two elves who politely told me they did not know of their Lord's whereabouts and had I tried his study?
I grew weary of walking, and I found myself a bench that overlooked one of the many waterfalls that poured off the mountainous walls that surrounded this place. I put my head in my hands, feeling defeated.
I had not found Lord Elrond. I had only found exhaustion yet again.
I do not know how long I sat there, and I think I must have been in a daze, because suddenly, I found myself walking with Lord Elrond. He actually had me by the arm as if he was supporting me. But I was walking so I did not need any support.
We went into what looked to be his study. At last, I thought, as I stumbled over the edge of a rug, we would talk of my dream.
But he kept walking and we went into another room. A rather empty room with a large cabinet and a high table draped in white. I stood there uncomprehendingly. Perhaps we were going to have a meal together. But I was going to have to decline politely as I was not hungry. Just tired. And I needed to tell him of my dream.
He brought a hand to my brow and began to feel along my jaw, his face composed and serious. I just stood there allowing him to do so as I found I had no energy for argument suddenly and just wished to close my eyes.
He bid me to take my tunic off and with no demur I did as he requested. The tunic might have needed cleaning, though I had saved my formal clothes for this place. It would not do to have the Steward's son present himself as an uncouth country farmer.
I felt his cool fingers pressing and poking my ribs and stomach. And then I found myself gently turned around.
Only the lightest touch he made, I swear, but I suddenly wanted to scream like a frightened little girl.
"Ahh, this explains your illness." Lord Elrond finally spoke, at least words that I could hear, he might have been speaking before but my mind could not make sense of them. "Boromir you have two infected wounds here. Please, get up and lie on the table face down."
Again, I did not find his request strange and did what he asked. Gently he lifted my head and placed a small pillow beneath my cheek. I lay there a moment, idly listening to him moving things about in the cabinet. You know this room looked very much like the surgery off the arms room in the lower gate house of the main Guards Barrack in Minas Tirith. A surgery. Why was I in a surgery?
"Boromir," his voice floated over my thoughts. "I will need to clean and suture these." I felt his warm hand over one of them and the pain lessened. I hissed at the sudden cold I felt being rubbed on the wounds and then, they went quite numb.
Lord Elrond stepped into my view and smiled at me. He lay a hand on my neck and just before I drifted off I thought, "How rude! I finally encounter Lord Elrond to ask him of my dream and all I want to do is sleep....."
I had had enough.
Where I am from, we do not tend to coddle every little illness into leaving, we exercise it out of our systems. It is best that way. Makes one strong.
Perhaps it was different for the elves. Looking about my room, I felt that their way of living was much more soft than the men of Gondor. There was actually a vase of flowers in my room and the flowers had been changed while I slept! Perhaps the elves' women folk controlled these things.
The sun was rising between racing clouds and the air was bracing and crisp when I got up. An excellent morning for a ride.
I was a bit dizzy when I stood and got dressed but I took a few pieces of fruit with me. I laughed as I tossed them in the air. Dullan would probably enjoy them more than I!
I stepped out of my room and remembering the route I took into this House, I, with only a few missteps, found the outer courtyard and soon thereafter, the stables.
The cool air made me feel much more awake and my spells of dizziness I just dismissed as hunger. I would eat after I had gotten my ride. The ride would do me more good than the fruit. (and Dullan enjoyed his apple!)
Saddling up my lively stallion, I quickly mounted and took off out into the courtyard, over the narrow bridge (the one sign of defense here that showed some sense). The bridge was barely big enough for a cart or two to ride abreast on. And it was a sturdy well made bridge, showing less decorative and useless elements than the House proper.
I winced as Dullan settled into a trot. Riding brought to mind that which I had forgot.
The sharp rocks I had fell onto when hunting last week because the path I was taking crumbled beneath my boots. I had been stabbed in two places in my back. The dream and sleeping in the comfortable bed allowed me to forget about them. But riding reminded me of my folly. And I had gotten no dinner that night either.
The ride was pleasant as the pain settled into a dull ache easily ignored, especially as I knew I did not have to go a certain number of leagues before I made camp. And Dullan sensed the fact this was just a ride to stretch the legs and nothing more.
But in spite of the brisk air, I found myself more and more tired and light- headed. I must have breakfast. And certainly they could provide something a bit more toothsome than fruit and cheese!
That ale had not been bad, though indeed it had had some kind of light flavor in it. But it was certainly a better offering than water or juice.
Though Dullan was reluctant, I turned his head around and we headed back to the elven refuge.
Saluting the guards as I rode through I wondered if perhaps I could at least practice my sword work. Surely some of these elves could wield a sword well enough for me to have someone to practice with.
And yes, I am well aware of my history. I know of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. But that was also a millennium ago. Who knew what the elves had allowed themselves to become in the mean time?
They rode horses bare back!
And this Rivendell was full of paintings and statues and intricately made goblets and furniture. Why my bed had mountains and trees carved into the headboard. Very cunningly done with different woods.
Once I dismounted from Dullan, I led him back into the stables and gave him the other apple I had taken from my room.
I was not hungry now, but I did have a great thirst. Passing elves as I went back to my room I tried to avoid looking into their faces too much. So many of them were as pretty as women! I am not used to men looking as soft as their women folk.
Back in my room I was glad to see there was another pitcher of ale and I drank all of it rather quickly, which did not do my head any good.
I sat on the edge of my bed and exhaustion ambushed me with no warning. I could not keep my eyes open.
The dream had come back
The Sword that was Broken was being wielded by someone I could not see. Their features were hidden by their swift movements. Isildur's Bane! They were fighting Isildur's Bane!! I could not tell what it was but it was something all together evil and it sensed my presence. I fought, but I had no weapon. It got closer and closer and there was a great heat....
I awoke, sweating and my back was painful where I lay on it.
I sat up my head aching fiercely. This must cease. I could no longer be at the whim of this terrible dream that had goaded me on to the North. It was like a nagging troop captain who would not let you rest on a march, who kept pushing you further and further, beyond your limit.
Except this dream was not for my good. It was a whip, a cat o nine tails flailing me with its images until I felt I would go mad.
And though I felt as if I was being weak by not dealing with this myself, I realized I had not the weapons to fight it. Nor had any one in Minas Tirith. So I found myself in this strange unsettling place full of...elves. And if only an elf could help me unravel this knotted fear that pummeled me constantly, then so be it.
I must find Lord Elrond before this dream consumed me and I was no longer fit to be my father's heir.
I got up, weaving like a drunk. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my tunic and brushed back my hair with my hands.
I would find Lord Elrond and I would make him listen to what I carried, like an unwelcome yammering guest, in my head.
And to think! This had been my younger brother Faramir's curse initially! He was the one who had the dream first! And yet, his simple telling of it one morning in the stables as we both set out to ride to our daily tasks ensnared my mind and that night, I dreamed of the Sword that was Broken.
It became my unwanted burden to bear until it drove me out of Minas Tirith with my father's instructions burning in my ear.
To have it made clear and to bring back to Minas Tirith a son and heir who's purpose was strong and whose dream would bode well for Gondor.
I walked with a dry mouth and I will admit, with much trepidation, through this house of winding corridors and open rooms and tapestries and statues everywhere.
So much clutter!
But I could not find the Master of the House though I did ask two elves who politely told me they did not know of their Lord's whereabouts and had I tried his study?
I grew weary of walking, and I found myself a bench that overlooked one of the many waterfalls that poured off the mountainous walls that surrounded this place. I put my head in my hands, feeling defeated.
I had not found Lord Elrond. I had only found exhaustion yet again.
I do not know how long I sat there, and I think I must have been in a daze, because suddenly, I found myself walking with Lord Elrond. He actually had me by the arm as if he was supporting me. But I was walking so I did not need any support.
We went into what looked to be his study. At last, I thought, as I stumbled over the edge of a rug, we would talk of my dream.
But he kept walking and we went into another room. A rather empty room with a large cabinet and a high table draped in white. I stood there uncomprehendingly. Perhaps we were going to have a meal together. But I was going to have to decline politely as I was not hungry. Just tired. And I needed to tell him of my dream.
He brought a hand to my brow and began to feel along my jaw, his face composed and serious. I just stood there allowing him to do so as I found I had no energy for argument suddenly and just wished to close my eyes.
He bid me to take my tunic off and with no demur I did as he requested. The tunic might have needed cleaning, though I had saved my formal clothes for this place. It would not do to have the Steward's son present himself as an uncouth country farmer.
I felt his cool fingers pressing and poking my ribs and stomach. And then I found myself gently turned around.
Only the lightest touch he made, I swear, but I suddenly wanted to scream like a frightened little girl.
"Ahh, this explains your illness." Lord Elrond finally spoke, at least words that I could hear, he might have been speaking before but my mind could not make sense of them. "Boromir you have two infected wounds here. Please, get up and lie on the table face down."
Again, I did not find his request strange and did what he asked. Gently he lifted my head and placed a small pillow beneath my cheek. I lay there a moment, idly listening to him moving things about in the cabinet. You know this room looked very much like the surgery off the arms room in the lower gate house of the main Guards Barrack in Minas Tirith. A surgery. Why was I in a surgery?
"Boromir," his voice floated over my thoughts. "I will need to clean and suture these." I felt his warm hand over one of them and the pain lessened. I hissed at the sudden cold I felt being rubbed on the wounds and then, they went quite numb.
Lord Elrond stepped into my view and smiled at me. He lay a hand on my neck and just before I drifted off I thought, "How rude! I finally encounter Lord Elrond to ask him of my dream and all I want to do is sleep....."