Chapter Seven- Delérith
I fell in and out of sleep for the next few days. I was not recovering, and although they tried to hide it from me so I would not worry or despair I could see it in their expressions every time they looked in my direction. My father sat with me but he was a busy man and we did not always get along. Since I had married Boromir we had not seen each other very much. My mother had died when I was just four years old, and since then we had always been distant with one another. Our relationship was formal rather than loving. Although he had never said it, I knew that he had always secretly longed for a son. I was frequently a disappointment to him, and perhaps the only worthy thing I did was marrying Boromir. I was beginning to understand how Faramir must have felt when Denethor favoured Boromir over him.
On the eve of the 26th day of February Faramir came into my room with a troubled expression on his face. I was feeling no better, I hadn't eaten for days and I had not been able to hold, or barely look at my baby, for I could not find the strength to sit myself up.
"What ails you?" I asked softly, looking up at him.
He passed his hand to his forehead, looking perplexed. "I heard a strange sound, an hour or so ago. Did you not hear anything?"
I moved my head slightly in a shaking motion.
"I thought..." He paused, unsure if he should carry on. "I thought I heard Boromir's horn sound."
His words took a moment to sink in, but when they did I felt a sudden jolt of realization inside my stomach. The hope that had been lying dormant inside of me rekindled itself at his words.
"Was it close?" I asked, my words hurried. His news had startled me, and although I wanted to hear more I was scared at the same time, though I did not know why.
"No, only very faint. I was not sure if my mind was playing tricks on me," Faramir replied.
I did not speak again. The information was almost too much for me. I had grown so used to not hearing of Boromir that any tidings of him came as a shock. His horn had been heard in the city. Then surely he must be close. But why was it being blown? A celebration on homecoming or...I bit my lip, doubt leaking into my mind. Maybe the horn was blown for a different reason. Was he in trouble? I remembered the horn that he hung from his belt, and the time I had asked about it. He had shown it to me, and told me its story. 'It is an heirloom, from my father. If it is blown in a time of need then help of some sort will come. But I let it sound when I leave for a journey.' I wondered if the Horn of Gondor had been blown as he left, so many months ago.
I lay quiet and still, running over things in my mind until everything became jumbled and knotted together. I had forgotten Faramir's presence until he spoke.
"I shall not be here tonight. I must go to Osgiliath and keep watch on the banks of the river. Enemies are drawing near." He touched my hand briefly, and then I heard his footsteps leave the room. I stared at the ceiling, feeling miserable and confused. As the night closed in I felt my head burn painfully and uncomfortably. In those moments it was hard for me to comprehend my feelings. I missed him being there, I missed his comforting presence and his soft voice. But whom was I missing? I had grown so used to being without Boromir and my heart ached for him constantly, but sometimes I found myself desiring Faramir's presence as well. I tried to think rationally. Of course it was Boromir that I was missing. I loved him. He was my husband. Why would I miss Faramir? I sighed and turned onto my side, my forehead throbbing uncomfortably. Did it matter who I missed? I was alone again.
I must have fallen asleep but I awoke in the night feeling feverish and disorientated. I reached out with a weak hand for the cup of water that sat on the table beside my bed and held it to my lips. I sank back on the pillows, feeling exhausted after so little effort. My head was pounding and I thankfully closed my eyes, glad for the soothing darkness that engulfed my sight. As I drifted away again thoughts of Boromir entered my head. Was he really coming back? I hardly dared to believe it. And then what? I mentally shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. Maybe I would soon find out.
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I fell in and out of sleep for the next few days. I was not recovering, and although they tried to hide it from me so I would not worry or despair I could see it in their expressions every time they looked in my direction. My father sat with me but he was a busy man and we did not always get along. Since I had married Boromir we had not seen each other very much. My mother had died when I was just four years old, and since then we had always been distant with one another. Our relationship was formal rather than loving. Although he had never said it, I knew that he had always secretly longed for a son. I was frequently a disappointment to him, and perhaps the only worthy thing I did was marrying Boromir. I was beginning to understand how Faramir must have felt when Denethor favoured Boromir over him.
On the eve of the 26th day of February Faramir came into my room with a troubled expression on his face. I was feeling no better, I hadn't eaten for days and I had not been able to hold, or barely look at my baby, for I could not find the strength to sit myself up.
"What ails you?" I asked softly, looking up at him.
He passed his hand to his forehead, looking perplexed. "I heard a strange sound, an hour or so ago. Did you not hear anything?"
I moved my head slightly in a shaking motion.
"I thought..." He paused, unsure if he should carry on. "I thought I heard Boromir's horn sound."
His words took a moment to sink in, but when they did I felt a sudden jolt of realization inside my stomach. The hope that had been lying dormant inside of me rekindled itself at his words.
"Was it close?" I asked, my words hurried. His news had startled me, and although I wanted to hear more I was scared at the same time, though I did not know why.
"No, only very faint. I was not sure if my mind was playing tricks on me," Faramir replied.
I did not speak again. The information was almost too much for me. I had grown so used to not hearing of Boromir that any tidings of him came as a shock. His horn had been heard in the city. Then surely he must be close. But why was it being blown? A celebration on homecoming or...I bit my lip, doubt leaking into my mind. Maybe the horn was blown for a different reason. Was he in trouble? I remembered the horn that he hung from his belt, and the time I had asked about it. He had shown it to me, and told me its story. 'It is an heirloom, from my father. If it is blown in a time of need then help of some sort will come. But I let it sound when I leave for a journey.' I wondered if the Horn of Gondor had been blown as he left, so many months ago.
I lay quiet and still, running over things in my mind until everything became jumbled and knotted together. I had forgotten Faramir's presence until he spoke.
"I shall not be here tonight. I must go to Osgiliath and keep watch on the banks of the river. Enemies are drawing near." He touched my hand briefly, and then I heard his footsteps leave the room. I stared at the ceiling, feeling miserable and confused. As the night closed in I felt my head burn painfully and uncomfortably. In those moments it was hard for me to comprehend my feelings. I missed him being there, I missed his comforting presence and his soft voice. But whom was I missing? I had grown so used to being without Boromir and my heart ached for him constantly, but sometimes I found myself desiring Faramir's presence as well. I tried to think rationally. Of course it was Boromir that I was missing. I loved him. He was my husband. Why would I miss Faramir? I sighed and turned onto my side, my forehead throbbing uncomfortably. Did it matter who I missed? I was alone again.
I must have fallen asleep but I awoke in the night feeling feverish and disorientated. I reached out with a weak hand for the cup of water that sat on the table beside my bed and held it to my lips. I sank back on the pillows, feeling exhausted after so little effort. My head was pounding and I thankfully closed my eyes, glad for the soothing darkness that engulfed my sight. As I drifted away again thoughts of Boromir entered my head. Was he really coming back? I hardly dared to believe it. And then what? I mentally shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. Maybe I would soon find out.
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