Disclaimer: As always, the setting and most characters belong to Tolkien. Seralina, Hamathar and the idea for Rose of Gondor came from my own imagination. I receive no compensation for this, on the enjoyment of writing it.
Rating: PG13 (but probably doesn't even warrant that)
Thanks as always to the people who have taken the time to write with comments. I appreciate the feedback.
** ** **
Seralina and Faramir set out for Osgiliath early in the morning. You could reach the river city from Minas Tirith in under an hour if you set a hard pace for your horse. For a leisurely ride, it would take two assuming you didn't stroll idly along. They started quietly, walking and talking… Faramir discovered more and more things he enjoyed discussing with Seralina. She was well-read and could discuss literature and history, but she had a keen interest in many things and Faramir even found that conversations turned – from time to time – to military topics. More often than not, he found she had excellent insights into many things.
And after a time their conversation turned to sport and they raced their horses along the road. Faramir's mount was larger and more suited for racing than Seralina's palfrey, but the Rose of Gondor rode fearlessly and challenged Faramir for the lead on several occasions. Finally, after a few miles, they slowed their horses, laughing.
They spent the morning in Osgiliath and walked by the river to see some of the boats that came and went. Less were here today, for rumors of dark times spreading from Mordor were surfacing, but those rumors seemed far away under the mid-morning sun. Finally, Faramir beckoned Seralina to the horses.
"It will be time to eat soon," he said, "and then we'll need to return to Minas Tirith. We should not have the dust of a race on us when we appear for supper."
"No," she laughed. "Especially tonight we should look our finest, as important questions are to be asked."
Faramir merely smiled. They rode out of Osgiliath but he took them down a different road. A short time later he cantered off the road to the crest of a small hill and waved for Seralina to follow him. Over the hill was a flat green area with a small grove of apple trees that were full in bloom.
After they'd eaten, Seralina sat in the shade of one of the trees, Faramir's head in her lap. She gently twined some of his hair between her fingers and watched as he rested with his eyes shut. Finally, he looked up and smiled at her, and then took one of her hands and kissed it.
"Ah, but for this moment to go on forever."
"Soon, perhaps," he said, "we can steal more of these days together, but for now we must make haste to return to the White City. I fear we have lingered too long here, and if we do not hurry we will be late."
Back in the city, one of the servants at Seralina's home told her that her father had requested she join him at the Steward's house at the appropriate hour. She drew a bath and then braided up the sides of her hair so that it swept up on the sides and cascaded down her back. She chose a dress of deep green. It came up just over the points of her shoulders and the neck scooped down. At the waist a wide belt fell loosely at her hips, joining in the front in an elaborately stitched and decorated knot. The trim on her collars, sleeves and hem were gold and patterned in the endless knots so prevalent in Rohan, where her cousins resided.
She was greeted and brought to the dining hall where she found her father, Denethor and Boromir.
"Lady Seralina," said Boromir with a smile. "You are as radiant as ever."
"You're too kind, Lord Boromir. I'm pleased you've returned safely."
Boromir grinned at her and she wondered what amused him so. She glanced at the two older men and a momentary sense of apprehension washed over her. Denethor looked far too pleased and her father looked pale, refusing to meet her gaze. She started to inquire when Faramir joined them and they were all ushered to the table.
Throughout the dinner, they were regaled with tales of adventure from Boromir, and while he did try to turn the conversation to other things, including his brother's recent accomplishments, Denethor always brought the conversation back to Boromir. As dinner concluded, Faramir caught Seralina's eye and gave her a tiny nod.
"My Lord Steward," he said, "and my good Lord Hamathar, I have a request for you…"
"In just a moment, Faramir," interrupted Denethor. "I have an announcement."
Faramir schooled the annoyance in his expression. "Of course," he said courteously.
"Today has been a hard day of skillful negotiating. I have long felt it was time for Boromir to marry and produce an heir who will be Steward of Gondor someday, and I have finally made that match."
Seralina smiled. Wonderful, this will put Denethor in a good mood when Faramir speaks of his request. I will lay wagers that he has finally matched Boromir to Eowyn of Rohan. The Shieldmaiden will be a good match for his temper, if his pride can abide a woman who can outride him.
"Today I am please to announce that my beloved son, Boromir, shall take the Lady Seralina, daughter of Lord Hamathar, as wife."
Into the raging silence of the room, only Seralina's voice was heard.
"Never!"
"Seralina," said Boromir, "I understand this is a shock…"
"Shock?" she shouted. "This is an outrage!"
"Father?" The anger in Faramir's voice radiated in the room.
"You'll be silent, boy!" barked the Steward.
"Nay, I will not. Not this time…"
"What is going on?" roared Boromir. Until this moment, he'd been extraordinarily pleased with the news. He'd only learned of the match his father had negotiated when he had arrived for dinner. Denethor had asked him not to say anything until the Steward himself could announce it at dinner.
"You've been gone," said Seralina, "so how could you know that Faramir has set court to me for this past month and more…"
Boromir's eyes shot to his brother. "Is this true?"
"Aye," said Faramir. "I was going to ask tonight for the blessing of the Steward and Lord Hamathar to wed Seralina."
Seralina turned on her own father. "Father? Father! Surely this is a misunderstanding…"
"Nay, daughter," he said weakly. "This will be a good match for you…" his voice trailed away unconvincingly, and she turned to the Steward.
"Something foul has happened here! By what means did you threaten my father to have your way thus?"
"I resent your implication, Lady," said Denethor darkly. "I have made the best match possible for my son, the future Steward."
"There are better matches in the world for the heir of the Steward. Your choice was made for spite, for you cannot brook Faramir's happiness in anything! You will undo this thing."
"No." Denethor raised his voice angrily. "You will marry Boromir as we have decided." He looked coldly at his younger son. "I had no official word from you that you were paying court to the Lady Seralina. Perhaps, if I had known earlier…"
"You knew right well. And if you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, your lapdogs have surely brought you word of our every move." Faramir stared balefully at his father.
"You did not ask my permission, therefore my decision stands. Lady Seralina will wed Boromir and we will hear no more of this!"
** ** ** **
Hope you're all still enjoying the tale so far… more to come soon.
Rating: PG13 (but probably doesn't even warrant that)
Thanks as always to the people who have taken the time to write with comments. I appreciate the feedback.
** ** **
Seralina and Faramir set out for Osgiliath early in the morning. You could reach the river city from Minas Tirith in under an hour if you set a hard pace for your horse. For a leisurely ride, it would take two assuming you didn't stroll idly along. They started quietly, walking and talking… Faramir discovered more and more things he enjoyed discussing with Seralina. She was well-read and could discuss literature and history, but she had a keen interest in many things and Faramir even found that conversations turned – from time to time – to military topics. More often than not, he found she had excellent insights into many things.
And after a time their conversation turned to sport and they raced their horses along the road. Faramir's mount was larger and more suited for racing than Seralina's palfrey, but the Rose of Gondor rode fearlessly and challenged Faramir for the lead on several occasions. Finally, after a few miles, they slowed their horses, laughing.
They spent the morning in Osgiliath and walked by the river to see some of the boats that came and went. Less were here today, for rumors of dark times spreading from Mordor were surfacing, but those rumors seemed far away under the mid-morning sun. Finally, Faramir beckoned Seralina to the horses.
"It will be time to eat soon," he said, "and then we'll need to return to Minas Tirith. We should not have the dust of a race on us when we appear for supper."
"No," she laughed. "Especially tonight we should look our finest, as important questions are to be asked."
Faramir merely smiled. They rode out of Osgiliath but he took them down a different road. A short time later he cantered off the road to the crest of a small hill and waved for Seralina to follow him. Over the hill was a flat green area with a small grove of apple trees that were full in bloom.
After they'd eaten, Seralina sat in the shade of one of the trees, Faramir's head in her lap. She gently twined some of his hair between her fingers and watched as he rested with his eyes shut. Finally, he looked up and smiled at her, and then took one of her hands and kissed it.
"Ah, but for this moment to go on forever."
"Soon, perhaps," he said, "we can steal more of these days together, but for now we must make haste to return to the White City. I fear we have lingered too long here, and if we do not hurry we will be late."
Back in the city, one of the servants at Seralina's home told her that her father had requested she join him at the Steward's house at the appropriate hour. She drew a bath and then braided up the sides of her hair so that it swept up on the sides and cascaded down her back. She chose a dress of deep green. It came up just over the points of her shoulders and the neck scooped down. At the waist a wide belt fell loosely at her hips, joining in the front in an elaborately stitched and decorated knot. The trim on her collars, sleeves and hem were gold and patterned in the endless knots so prevalent in Rohan, where her cousins resided.
She was greeted and brought to the dining hall where she found her father, Denethor and Boromir.
"Lady Seralina," said Boromir with a smile. "You are as radiant as ever."
"You're too kind, Lord Boromir. I'm pleased you've returned safely."
Boromir grinned at her and she wondered what amused him so. She glanced at the two older men and a momentary sense of apprehension washed over her. Denethor looked far too pleased and her father looked pale, refusing to meet her gaze. She started to inquire when Faramir joined them and they were all ushered to the table.
Throughout the dinner, they were regaled with tales of adventure from Boromir, and while he did try to turn the conversation to other things, including his brother's recent accomplishments, Denethor always brought the conversation back to Boromir. As dinner concluded, Faramir caught Seralina's eye and gave her a tiny nod.
"My Lord Steward," he said, "and my good Lord Hamathar, I have a request for you…"
"In just a moment, Faramir," interrupted Denethor. "I have an announcement."
Faramir schooled the annoyance in his expression. "Of course," he said courteously.
"Today has been a hard day of skillful negotiating. I have long felt it was time for Boromir to marry and produce an heir who will be Steward of Gondor someday, and I have finally made that match."
Seralina smiled. Wonderful, this will put Denethor in a good mood when Faramir speaks of his request. I will lay wagers that he has finally matched Boromir to Eowyn of Rohan. The Shieldmaiden will be a good match for his temper, if his pride can abide a woman who can outride him.
"Today I am please to announce that my beloved son, Boromir, shall take the Lady Seralina, daughter of Lord Hamathar, as wife."
Into the raging silence of the room, only Seralina's voice was heard.
"Never!"
"Seralina," said Boromir, "I understand this is a shock…"
"Shock?" she shouted. "This is an outrage!"
"Father?" The anger in Faramir's voice radiated in the room.
"You'll be silent, boy!" barked the Steward.
"Nay, I will not. Not this time…"
"What is going on?" roared Boromir. Until this moment, he'd been extraordinarily pleased with the news. He'd only learned of the match his father had negotiated when he had arrived for dinner. Denethor had asked him not to say anything until the Steward himself could announce it at dinner.
"You've been gone," said Seralina, "so how could you know that Faramir has set court to me for this past month and more…"
Boromir's eyes shot to his brother. "Is this true?"
"Aye," said Faramir. "I was going to ask tonight for the blessing of the Steward and Lord Hamathar to wed Seralina."
Seralina turned on her own father. "Father? Father! Surely this is a misunderstanding…"
"Nay, daughter," he said weakly. "This will be a good match for you…" his voice trailed away unconvincingly, and she turned to the Steward.
"Something foul has happened here! By what means did you threaten my father to have your way thus?"
"I resent your implication, Lady," said Denethor darkly. "I have made the best match possible for my son, the future Steward."
"There are better matches in the world for the heir of the Steward. Your choice was made for spite, for you cannot brook Faramir's happiness in anything! You will undo this thing."
"No." Denethor raised his voice angrily. "You will marry Boromir as we have decided." He looked coldly at his younger son. "I had no official word from you that you were paying court to the Lady Seralina. Perhaps, if I had known earlier…"
"You knew right well. And if you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, your lapdogs have surely brought you word of our every move." Faramir stared balefully at his father.
"You did not ask my permission, therefore my decision stands. Lady Seralina will wed Boromir and we will hear no more of this!"
** ** ** **
Hope you're all still enjoying the tale so far… more to come soon.