Chapter Three- Boromir
A hundred and ten days I journeyed, often weary and utterly alone, through familiar and foreign lands. I had a lot of time to think, and think I did, of the dream that came to me, of Gondor, of my father and Faramir, but mostly of Delérith. Her news on the day that we parted had shocked me, and at the time I could not think clearly. A child? I had not meant for a child, not yet. My father had maybe, but not me. I remembered a time when Delérith told me that he had asked her if we were planning to try for a child. Her face had reddened, and I remember that she had been embarrassed at his forthright manner. He, of course, had thought it to be quite within his rights to ask such a thing. But I was not interested in children at my time in life. I was young and I wanted to know how to fight, how to rule a city, how to wield a sword in battle. The thought of a wife had not crossed my mind until my father brought up the subject one day.
"Do you plan to marry, my son?" he asked in his usual abrupt manner.
I had been surprised at his question, for the thought of marriage had not previously occurred to me.
"Not at present, Father," I had answered.
"Perhaps you should begin to think of it," he continued. "You shall need a wife and a child when you take up the office of Steward."
I had said nothing to that, only nodded. I was in no position to argue. My father is a noble man, but also stern and not to be disagreed with. I wanted to please him so I took what he had said to heart. Although it was against my wishes, I convinced myself that he was right and soon after that I met Delérith. She was attractive and had a nice nature, and I suppose that I did like her well enough. But I never loved her. I have never truly loved anyone, not in that way. Of course I love my father and my brother, but the idea of a wife did not appeal to me. She was constantly being pushed aside by things more important to me. I was learning to become expert in combat, and being tutored in the ways of armies and leading cities. I pushed her away, and I blame myself for that. Maybe I thought if I let the problem lie it would fade away. In my heart I did not want a wife, so I sub-consciously resented her, though it was in no way her fault. I never truly thought of her feelings, and it is only now that I realise what I have done. I do not like the feeling of guilt in my chest, as I know that I have hurt her more than I first thought.
I recall her face, often smiling and happy, for she was that type of person. She tended to be quiet, but clever and kind, going about things in her own individual way. She was pretty also, with grey-blue eyes and brown hair that fell in waves. But why do I say 'was'? She still is, she is in Minas Tirith, waiting for me to return. And I do mean to return. I will go back to Gondor when my errand is complete and look after her and my child, for it is my duty. I know I have not done well in the past, and I am not proud of myself, but when I return things will be set right.
*-*
A hundred and ten days I journeyed, often weary and utterly alone, through familiar and foreign lands. I had a lot of time to think, and think I did, of the dream that came to me, of Gondor, of my father and Faramir, but mostly of Delérith. Her news on the day that we parted had shocked me, and at the time I could not think clearly. A child? I had not meant for a child, not yet. My father had maybe, but not me. I remembered a time when Delérith told me that he had asked her if we were planning to try for a child. Her face had reddened, and I remember that she had been embarrassed at his forthright manner. He, of course, had thought it to be quite within his rights to ask such a thing. But I was not interested in children at my time in life. I was young and I wanted to know how to fight, how to rule a city, how to wield a sword in battle. The thought of a wife had not crossed my mind until my father brought up the subject one day.
"Do you plan to marry, my son?" he asked in his usual abrupt manner.
I had been surprised at his question, for the thought of marriage had not previously occurred to me.
"Not at present, Father," I had answered.
"Perhaps you should begin to think of it," he continued. "You shall need a wife and a child when you take up the office of Steward."
I had said nothing to that, only nodded. I was in no position to argue. My father is a noble man, but also stern and not to be disagreed with. I wanted to please him so I took what he had said to heart. Although it was against my wishes, I convinced myself that he was right and soon after that I met Delérith. She was attractive and had a nice nature, and I suppose that I did like her well enough. But I never loved her. I have never truly loved anyone, not in that way. Of course I love my father and my brother, but the idea of a wife did not appeal to me. She was constantly being pushed aside by things more important to me. I was learning to become expert in combat, and being tutored in the ways of armies and leading cities. I pushed her away, and I blame myself for that. Maybe I thought if I let the problem lie it would fade away. In my heart I did not want a wife, so I sub-consciously resented her, though it was in no way her fault. I never truly thought of her feelings, and it is only now that I realise what I have done. I do not like the feeling of guilt in my chest, as I know that I have hurt her more than I first thought.
I recall her face, often smiling and happy, for she was that type of person. She tended to be quiet, but clever and kind, going about things in her own individual way. She was pretty also, with grey-blue eyes and brown hair that fell in waves. But why do I say 'was'? She still is, she is in Minas Tirith, waiting for me to return. And I do mean to return. I will go back to Gondor when my errand is complete and look after her and my child, for it is my duty. I know I have not done well in the past, and I am not proud of myself, but when I return things will be set right.
*-*