Chapter Eight- Delérith
I was feeling no better. I found myself growing used to the sea of anxious faces that surrounded me, healers giving me mixtures of herbs, trying to make me more comfortable. I was still in my own bed, for no one had tried to move me since the birth. I was not well enough, apparently. I could not bring myself to eat. The very sight of food seemed repulsive to me. Even a weak smell made me feel queasy, and I was sick a few times, vomiting painfully into a basin. I was finding it hard to keep even water down.
As I lay back listlessly on the pillows the door creaked open and someone stepped into the room. I turned my head as well as I could, and I saw Faramir standing in the doorway. His face looked pale and drawn.
He stood still and unmoving, his mouth open as if he wanted to speak but no words would come. I felt the familiar feeling of foreboding in my chest, and I clenched the bed sheets between my white fingers, feeling anxious though I did not know why.
He crossed over to me and knelt down by my bed. He took my hand in both of his and held it tightly.
"What news of Boromir, my Lord?" I whispered, hardly daring to speak. I think I already knew in my heart. It had been written in Faramir's eyes as he walked into the room.
"He is dead." His voice caught in his throat as he spoke, and he lowered his eyes to the floor.
I opened my mouth but no cry came out. My eyes did not mist over, but my fingers resumed their tense hold on the sheets, white and stiff. My whole body felt frozen, like my emotions were trapped inside of me. I took a quavering breath and the air passed over my cracked lips and down my dry throat. Then I felt something wash over me, a cold, heartless wash of sadness and grief. I became aware of Faramir's strong hold on my hand, and I suddenly fell haphazardly into his arms. He held me tight as I wept, resting his chin on the top of my head. At that moment I felt love for him, not passionate love, the sort I had once felt for Boromir, but the love I would give to a brother. For he had been a brother to me in those long months of loneliness. I cared for him deeply. I then thought of Boromir and all that would never be. He had a daughter and she would never see her father. He never had the chance to look upon her face, and I never had the chance to say a proper farewell. My thoughts went back to the gates, so long ago yet so clear in my mind. I remembered his face and how grand he had been. I thought of his grey eyes and the way they had shone and of his walk, determined and strong as he walked away from me forever.
At last I pulled away from Faramir, whose face was also damp with tears.
"What happened?" I asked, my face damp and voice shaking as sobs still threatened to come to the surface.
"His funeral boat passed me as I was sitting by the river late last night. He was wounded and a broken sword lay on his lap. I let him pass on down the river. His face..." Faramir stopped for breath. "So fair, so grand." He then fell silent.
I shut my eyes. My hands were shaking and I shivered even though I was not cold. Faramir clasped my hand and his grip felt warm and strong against mine. Overcome by weariness, I slept for a time, unable to separate fact from reality anymore. It was all just too much.
When I awoke it was late afternoon and a weak sun was filtering in through my windows. I could not take any comfort from it. I turned my head towards the wall and stared without seeing at the stark white stone. I could not determine the amount of time that I lay there, and I did not care. Nothing mattered to me anymore.
Later on Faramir walked into my room. I was facing away from him but his footsteps had become familiar to me, quiet and sure. He put a hand on my shoulder as he sat down beside me.
"My Lady."
I did not answer. I clenched my jaw and stared harder at the wall.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice faltering. "Don't turn your head to the wall."
"It is all over," I said, my voice rasping in my dry throat. "He is dead."
"But you are not," he replied. "Your child needs you. We all need you."
I tilted my face so that it was facing upwards. I felt tears sting at my eyes, but I hastily blinked them away. I looked upon Faramir's kindly face and shook my head.
"I am dying," I said. That was the first time I even thought that maybe my illness was to claim my life. But I was not getting better. The healers had been telling me that I would be fine, but their smiles seemed forced and their eyes were sad. A feeling of hopelessness and despair welling up inside me. "I have no will left to hold on with."
Faramir swallowed hard. "You must try. Please. You can get well again."
"It is useless. I cannot carry on." The pain in my chest was growing. I couldn't tell if it was grief or something else, but it did not matter to me. "You cannot support me forever. You have a life to live, and I am not a part of it. Boromir is dead. I waited for him, but he left me. This life holds nothing for me anymore."
"But your baby, Delérith," Faramir persisted hopelessly.
I had a moment of doubt. Somewhere in my mind a small chink of light shone through the blackness that had engulfed my mind. My child... our child. But why start a family? How could I have a family without Boromir? At that time I cared for nobody. The one thing that I had been holding onto all this time had gone. In my grief I could see no other way.
"Please," I begged, looking into Faramir's eyes beseechingly. "Take care of my baby. She will need someone. Will you help me?"
Faramir nodded slowly. "If it is your wish." He then got up and walked over to the baby's cradle. He gently picked up the bundle of blankets and brought her to me. I weakly lifted my hand and stroked her forehead, looking upon her face, which was lost in sleep. She was so soft, so new, so delicate. I let my arm drop back to the bed.
Faramir carefully returned the sleeping baby to the cradle, letting his eyes linger for a moment on her peaceful form before returning to my side.
"She's beautiful," I murmured, gazing over at the crib.
"So are you," he whispered to me. He kissed me gently on the forehead and then turned away and walked from the room, tears glistening like crystals as they ran silently down his face.
*-*
I was feeling no better. I found myself growing used to the sea of anxious faces that surrounded me, healers giving me mixtures of herbs, trying to make me more comfortable. I was still in my own bed, for no one had tried to move me since the birth. I was not well enough, apparently. I could not bring myself to eat. The very sight of food seemed repulsive to me. Even a weak smell made me feel queasy, and I was sick a few times, vomiting painfully into a basin. I was finding it hard to keep even water down.
As I lay back listlessly on the pillows the door creaked open and someone stepped into the room. I turned my head as well as I could, and I saw Faramir standing in the doorway. His face looked pale and drawn.
He stood still and unmoving, his mouth open as if he wanted to speak but no words would come. I felt the familiar feeling of foreboding in my chest, and I clenched the bed sheets between my white fingers, feeling anxious though I did not know why.
He crossed over to me and knelt down by my bed. He took my hand in both of his and held it tightly.
"What news of Boromir, my Lord?" I whispered, hardly daring to speak. I think I already knew in my heart. It had been written in Faramir's eyes as he walked into the room.
"He is dead." His voice caught in his throat as he spoke, and he lowered his eyes to the floor.
I opened my mouth but no cry came out. My eyes did not mist over, but my fingers resumed their tense hold on the sheets, white and stiff. My whole body felt frozen, like my emotions were trapped inside of me. I took a quavering breath and the air passed over my cracked lips and down my dry throat. Then I felt something wash over me, a cold, heartless wash of sadness and grief. I became aware of Faramir's strong hold on my hand, and I suddenly fell haphazardly into his arms. He held me tight as I wept, resting his chin on the top of my head. At that moment I felt love for him, not passionate love, the sort I had once felt for Boromir, but the love I would give to a brother. For he had been a brother to me in those long months of loneliness. I cared for him deeply. I then thought of Boromir and all that would never be. He had a daughter and she would never see her father. He never had the chance to look upon her face, and I never had the chance to say a proper farewell. My thoughts went back to the gates, so long ago yet so clear in my mind. I remembered his face and how grand he had been. I thought of his grey eyes and the way they had shone and of his walk, determined and strong as he walked away from me forever.
At last I pulled away from Faramir, whose face was also damp with tears.
"What happened?" I asked, my face damp and voice shaking as sobs still threatened to come to the surface.
"His funeral boat passed me as I was sitting by the river late last night. He was wounded and a broken sword lay on his lap. I let him pass on down the river. His face..." Faramir stopped for breath. "So fair, so grand." He then fell silent.
I shut my eyes. My hands were shaking and I shivered even though I was not cold. Faramir clasped my hand and his grip felt warm and strong against mine. Overcome by weariness, I slept for a time, unable to separate fact from reality anymore. It was all just too much.
When I awoke it was late afternoon and a weak sun was filtering in through my windows. I could not take any comfort from it. I turned my head towards the wall and stared without seeing at the stark white stone. I could not determine the amount of time that I lay there, and I did not care. Nothing mattered to me anymore.
Later on Faramir walked into my room. I was facing away from him but his footsteps had become familiar to me, quiet and sure. He put a hand on my shoulder as he sat down beside me.
"My Lady."
I did not answer. I clenched my jaw and stared harder at the wall.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice faltering. "Don't turn your head to the wall."
"It is all over," I said, my voice rasping in my dry throat. "He is dead."
"But you are not," he replied. "Your child needs you. We all need you."
I tilted my face so that it was facing upwards. I felt tears sting at my eyes, but I hastily blinked them away. I looked upon Faramir's kindly face and shook my head.
"I am dying," I said. That was the first time I even thought that maybe my illness was to claim my life. But I was not getting better. The healers had been telling me that I would be fine, but their smiles seemed forced and their eyes were sad. A feeling of hopelessness and despair welling up inside me. "I have no will left to hold on with."
Faramir swallowed hard. "You must try. Please. You can get well again."
"It is useless. I cannot carry on." The pain in my chest was growing. I couldn't tell if it was grief or something else, but it did not matter to me. "You cannot support me forever. You have a life to live, and I am not a part of it. Boromir is dead. I waited for him, but he left me. This life holds nothing for me anymore."
"But your baby, Delérith," Faramir persisted hopelessly.
I had a moment of doubt. Somewhere in my mind a small chink of light shone through the blackness that had engulfed my mind. My child... our child. But why start a family? How could I have a family without Boromir? At that time I cared for nobody. The one thing that I had been holding onto all this time had gone. In my grief I could see no other way.
"Please," I begged, looking into Faramir's eyes beseechingly. "Take care of my baby. She will need someone. Will you help me?"
Faramir nodded slowly. "If it is your wish." He then got up and walked over to the baby's cradle. He gently picked up the bundle of blankets and brought her to me. I weakly lifted my hand and stroked her forehead, looking upon her face, which was lost in sleep. She was so soft, so new, so delicate. I let my arm drop back to the bed.
Faramir carefully returned the sleeping baby to the cradle, letting his eyes linger for a moment on her peaceful form before returning to my side.
"She's beautiful," I murmured, gazing over at the crib.
"So are you," he whispered to me. He kissed me gently on the forehead and then turned away and walked from the room, tears glistening like crystals as they ran silently down his face.
*-*