A note to a reviewer- PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF FAN FICTION, DO NOT KILL ME,
LADY KNIGHT WHO WIELDS A TENNIS RACQUET! *cowers*
Boromir- for the last time, people- DOES NOT-I repeat- DOES NOT, DIE! To find out how, you will have to read "Journey through the Dark".
And on a side note, I don't own anything.
On with the show...er, story!
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Pippin followed Beregond's direction to the Lampwright's street, and saw there, amidst the graying stone and sober smiles that graced the rest of the city the smiles and laughter of children at play. They all stopped when they saw the tiny guard of the tower, and some began to whisper. Pippin removed his helm, and looked the boys in the eyes.
"Tell me, if you will, is there one among you who can claim Beregond as father? I have been charged to find one Bergil, who will direct me about the city at his wont." One of the taller lads stepped forward.
"That is I...but you are a stranger to the city, and I take no order from boys shorter my stature and my age. How many years have you?"
"Twenty nine, so I think I pass you there." One of the boys examined him closely.
"Are you the one they call the Prince of the Halflings? The steward's thain?"
"I am that indeed."
"Are the tales true? That you fought the wizard of the Isen vale and won?"
"I heard you killed a whole company of Uruk hai!"
"I heard he rode with the Lord Boromir!" The boys oh-ed and stepped closer, nearly reverent. Bergil looked at him, searching his eyes.
"Are you truly as great a captain as they say? Lord Boromir takes only the finest for his troops, and to ride with him is a great honor bestowed to few."
"Aye, I knew the Lord well; he taught me a few tricks with a blade, and a great many things besides. I was glad to count him as a friend." The boys' eyes grew wide. "But I should like to see more of the city before the cloak of night is upon us." Bergil nodded, and bid his friends good day.
"My father would have me leave with the women and the other children, but it is a duty to Gondor to stay, and defend the city. Honor to my name must be upheld." The young boy squared his shoulders in defiance. "I will go not with women, and children. I am not a child. There was a time when I would have taken you to see the lady LothÃriel-but she has taken to Dol Amroth at the behest of her father." He thought for a moment. "But there is one woman still in the city...the lady Rhoswen."
"Lord Boromir's intended, no?"
"How do you know of her?"
"He spoke often, and highly of her. So much that I think I can see her face now."
"She is the one the men call the White Rose of Gondor. Some say her beauty is like that of the elves, that she is a great witch to ensnare the captain so easily. But I know better. She is a caring, beautiful woman, good at everything she sets hand and mind to, and I hope that my wife is as she, some far off day. She stays in the city because she thinks he will return...when last you saw him, did our captain heir still draw breath?" Pippin thought, taking heed to Gandalf's words.
"He did, but that was many days ago, and I know not if he still walks this goodly earth. Would you take me to see the lady?" Bergil nodded, and strode purposefully off, Pippin running to keep up with the taller boy.
Bergil motioned a finger to his lips in quiet veneration when they opened the gates to the gardens, mindful of the creaking hinges. A lady sat, a cloth on her knees, and Beregond's son hesitantly broke the thin ice of silence with a
"Milady?" She spoke to the boy with a familiar tone; Bergil had come before.
"Hello, Bergil...how is your father today?"
"He is well, and sends greetings and hope that your illness does not return. He is loath to present a still heart to his lord upon his arrival."
"As do many who know of my lord's love for me. He is a formidable man when presented with threat to my person."
"Is it true that he slew a whole pack of wolves for you?"
"As true as I sit before you, but that is a story for another time. Who is with you?"
"I have brought a friend today, the prince out of the north country." He stepped aside, and Pippin looked up from his feet at the woman that his friend worshiped as 'the White Rose of Gondor'.
Rhoswen was tall, for a woman, though sitting you could not tell it, and her inky raven hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain. The face that Boromir had remarked with a passion called to mind a sunrise now with coral lips in a half laughing line was slightly smiling, her gray eyes filled with sorrow well concealed. She dipped her head at Pippin's bow. Bergil smiled uncertainly, and left silently, sensing that Pippin and Rhoswen would want to talk alone. Rhoswen carefully laid aside her sewing, and looked at Pippin with intent, sage gray eyes.
"So you are the Prince of halflings? If what they say in the city is true, than it is I who should be bowing, for they say that in your country you are a king among your people."
"It is true, I am from a line that takes many days to say in full, for our fathers are of great interest in my land, and my family holds much land and many kin, but I am not the prince the gossip says I am."
"You rode with the Lord Boromir...You have seen him of late?" Pippin thought of Gandalf's words-the White City must not know that Boromir lived! So, the Took did what he deemed best and worst--he fibbed.
"If late is to be taken as three weeks upon today, at most, than yes, I have seen him 'of late'." The lady smiled.
"Pardon me for seeming so forward, milady, but...you seem young to wed with the Lord Boromir; I know he has seen forty winters, maybe more, and you seem not over twenty. Forgive me again, madam, but I thought you were older, though you seem very wise for one so young." Rhoswen laughed-an open sound for such a strained time- and smiled even more broadly.
"And this comes from one who looks to be not more than a boy- all in good faith, friend of my friend. Yes, it is true, the Lord Boromir be nearly twice my age, but he loves me, and I him, and I find no greater honor than to marry the son of the Steward. Tell me, Peregrin of the Halflings, does he think of me often?"
"Yes milady, and every day he wishes he could be home, and, with all proper respect intended, in your arms. I listen where I should not; it is a habit of dire consequence." Rhoswen laughed at Pippin's blushing.
"I care not what remarks you may have heard on the part of me, Peregrin- at home, he is not much better either- and his men hear things that make me blush. Our love will be one the harpers will sing of- if there be any time for songs when darkness passes this place." Her lighthearted face fell.
"Pardon me again for being bold, milady, but would not Boromir wish that you go to the hills with the other women?"
"I do not always listen to Boromir, and if he told me such a thing, I would pay him no heed. When he left, he told me not to lose strength, to stand firm such as the tower and it's women have always done. I hear the gossip in the streets, the word in the shadows- I have ears like you that pry where they should not- and I hear that the men lose hope with out my intended, the mightiest of mighty captains. It grieves me that many think him dead; I know that he is not- my heart tells me it is so, that it would be cleft in twain ere he breathes his last-and I stay because there are ears that say that when my heart fails, and love is the truest art of prophecy, then they will lose hope in a bottomless abyss, never to find it again."
"I cannot give you news that he lives yet- but if I had such tidings, I would bring them straight to your ears as speed would permit. He still wore your stone, when last we parted." Rhoswen looked from her sewing.
"That is good to know, Peregrin. I gave that to him to wear when we said our good byes in Osgiliath the last year passing, afore midsummer was upon us. Good it is to know that he keeps it by his heart- where I wish I could be at this very second." She looked into Pippin's eyes, and the sorrow was nearly blinding. Pippin almost had to look away- so beautiful, and yet so sad, this woman could make him say things that he would regret.
"I must take my good byes, milady. I know not when my lord will call me, and sleep will be needed to face the days that are as yet dawnless. I wish you happiness and hope in this growing darkness if we do not meet again. Good night, milady."
"Good night, Ernil I Pherinniath. For a new day, ere the sun rises." And she gathered her skirts, and wrapped the cloak tighter about her shoulders as Pippin eased the large door open, and shut it silently behind him.
"Now I know why Boromir loves his white rose so: not the most hardy of plants, but the most beautiful, the one that the gardener worships in cultivating."
-*-*-*-*-*- I'd like to thank the Academy...aww, screw them, I'd rather thank my reviewers!
Terreis- I love to love and be loved. And yes, as I have been saying, the dead man will, alas for some, not be dead. * cheering erupts* and thank you for the thing about the AU...I'm not really grounded on all that fan fic jazz.
DJ Sparkles- Thank you so very much! You people who love me make my day so much more worth living. And I love writing book cannon, as evidenced above.
Sz2000- Thank you! Like I said, I love you who love me. And I'm glad you can see yourself in Minas Tirith.
Jack Sparrow is my hamster- I'm sorry, but I have to say this. Every time I see your name, I crack up. That being over and done with, I love writing freaking amazing stories- I aim to please. It's nice to know there are people out there who read and love my work. I can now put a small flag in Scotland on my 'Countries reached by my work' map, subtitled 'My evil plan to take over the world'. *cracks up*
Sir lady Alanna cooper- you probably read the note at the start of the chapter...* backs away slowly, cowering* send me not from your sight....I've only ever served you...
Terreis- * looks amazed* I'm esteemed?...Wow...this is...um...rather un- humbling...is that even a word? I'm glad I can bring sunshine to your probably otherwise gray and dreary cubicle...may I recommend Christmas lights year round if you feel like bring different? I have some purple ones in mine. Granted, I get funny looks, but they look cool!
Awww.... I wrote some of this for one of my friends, who is a huge pippin fan- Billy Boyd has an awesome voice, she'd like to reiteratate * tell us something we don't know*- and I had this thing running through my head for what seemed like forever, and I worked some more book cannon into it!
And don't you just adore my rose allegories? Leave nice reviews and tell me if you found enough of them.
Boromir- for the last time, people- DOES NOT-I repeat- DOES NOT, DIE! To find out how, you will have to read "Journey through the Dark".
And on a side note, I don't own anything.
On with the show...er, story!
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Pippin followed Beregond's direction to the Lampwright's street, and saw there, amidst the graying stone and sober smiles that graced the rest of the city the smiles and laughter of children at play. They all stopped when they saw the tiny guard of the tower, and some began to whisper. Pippin removed his helm, and looked the boys in the eyes.
"Tell me, if you will, is there one among you who can claim Beregond as father? I have been charged to find one Bergil, who will direct me about the city at his wont." One of the taller lads stepped forward.
"That is I...but you are a stranger to the city, and I take no order from boys shorter my stature and my age. How many years have you?"
"Twenty nine, so I think I pass you there." One of the boys examined him closely.
"Are you the one they call the Prince of the Halflings? The steward's thain?"
"I am that indeed."
"Are the tales true? That you fought the wizard of the Isen vale and won?"
"I heard you killed a whole company of Uruk hai!"
"I heard he rode with the Lord Boromir!" The boys oh-ed and stepped closer, nearly reverent. Bergil looked at him, searching his eyes.
"Are you truly as great a captain as they say? Lord Boromir takes only the finest for his troops, and to ride with him is a great honor bestowed to few."
"Aye, I knew the Lord well; he taught me a few tricks with a blade, and a great many things besides. I was glad to count him as a friend." The boys' eyes grew wide. "But I should like to see more of the city before the cloak of night is upon us." Bergil nodded, and bid his friends good day.
"My father would have me leave with the women and the other children, but it is a duty to Gondor to stay, and defend the city. Honor to my name must be upheld." The young boy squared his shoulders in defiance. "I will go not with women, and children. I am not a child. There was a time when I would have taken you to see the lady LothÃriel-but she has taken to Dol Amroth at the behest of her father." He thought for a moment. "But there is one woman still in the city...the lady Rhoswen."
"Lord Boromir's intended, no?"
"How do you know of her?"
"He spoke often, and highly of her. So much that I think I can see her face now."
"She is the one the men call the White Rose of Gondor. Some say her beauty is like that of the elves, that she is a great witch to ensnare the captain so easily. But I know better. She is a caring, beautiful woman, good at everything she sets hand and mind to, and I hope that my wife is as she, some far off day. She stays in the city because she thinks he will return...when last you saw him, did our captain heir still draw breath?" Pippin thought, taking heed to Gandalf's words.
"He did, but that was many days ago, and I know not if he still walks this goodly earth. Would you take me to see the lady?" Bergil nodded, and strode purposefully off, Pippin running to keep up with the taller boy.
Bergil motioned a finger to his lips in quiet veneration when they opened the gates to the gardens, mindful of the creaking hinges. A lady sat, a cloth on her knees, and Beregond's son hesitantly broke the thin ice of silence with a
"Milady?" She spoke to the boy with a familiar tone; Bergil had come before.
"Hello, Bergil...how is your father today?"
"He is well, and sends greetings and hope that your illness does not return. He is loath to present a still heart to his lord upon his arrival."
"As do many who know of my lord's love for me. He is a formidable man when presented with threat to my person."
"Is it true that he slew a whole pack of wolves for you?"
"As true as I sit before you, but that is a story for another time. Who is with you?"
"I have brought a friend today, the prince out of the north country." He stepped aside, and Pippin looked up from his feet at the woman that his friend worshiped as 'the White Rose of Gondor'.
Rhoswen was tall, for a woman, though sitting you could not tell it, and her inky raven hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain. The face that Boromir had remarked with a passion called to mind a sunrise now with coral lips in a half laughing line was slightly smiling, her gray eyes filled with sorrow well concealed. She dipped her head at Pippin's bow. Bergil smiled uncertainly, and left silently, sensing that Pippin and Rhoswen would want to talk alone. Rhoswen carefully laid aside her sewing, and looked at Pippin with intent, sage gray eyes.
"So you are the Prince of halflings? If what they say in the city is true, than it is I who should be bowing, for they say that in your country you are a king among your people."
"It is true, I am from a line that takes many days to say in full, for our fathers are of great interest in my land, and my family holds much land and many kin, but I am not the prince the gossip says I am."
"You rode with the Lord Boromir...You have seen him of late?" Pippin thought of Gandalf's words-the White City must not know that Boromir lived! So, the Took did what he deemed best and worst--he fibbed.
"If late is to be taken as three weeks upon today, at most, than yes, I have seen him 'of late'." The lady smiled.
"Pardon me for seeming so forward, milady, but...you seem young to wed with the Lord Boromir; I know he has seen forty winters, maybe more, and you seem not over twenty. Forgive me again, madam, but I thought you were older, though you seem very wise for one so young." Rhoswen laughed-an open sound for such a strained time- and smiled even more broadly.
"And this comes from one who looks to be not more than a boy- all in good faith, friend of my friend. Yes, it is true, the Lord Boromir be nearly twice my age, but he loves me, and I him, and I find no greater honor than to marry the son of the Steward. Tell me, Peregrin of the Halflings, does he think of me often?"
"Yes milady, and every day he wishes he could be home, and, with all proper respect intended, in your arms. I listen where I should not; it is a habit of dire consequence." Rhoswen laughed at Pippin's blushing.
"I care not what remarks you may have heard on the part of me, Peregrin- at home, he is not much better either- and his men hear things that make me blush. Our love will be one the harpers will sing of- if there be any time for songs when darkness passes this place." Her lighthearted face fell.
"Pardon me again for being bold, milady, but would not Boromir wish that you go to the hills with the other women?"
"I do not always listen to Boromir, and if he told me such a thing, I would pay him no heed. When he left, he told me not to lose strength, to stand firm such as the tower and it's women have always done. I hear the gossip in the streets, the word in the shadows- I have ears like you that pry where they should not- and I hear that the men lose hope with out my intended, the mightiest of mighty captains. It grieves me that many think him dead; I know that he is not- my heart tells me it is so, that it would be cleft in twain ere he breathes his last-and I stay because there are ears that say that when my heart fails, and love is the truest art of prophecy, then they will lose hope in a bottomless abyss, never to find it again."
"I cannot give you news that he lives yet- but if I had such tidings, I would bring them straight to your ears as speed would permit. He still wore your stone, when last we parted." Rhoswen looked from her sewing.
"That is good to know, Peregrin. I gave that to him to wear when we said our good byes in Osgiliath the last year passing, afore midsummer was upon us. Good it is to know that he keeps it by his heart- where I wish I could be at this very second." She looked into Pippin's eyes, and the sorrow was nearly blinding. Pippin almost had to look away- so beautiful, and yet so sad, this woman could make him say things that he would regret.
"I must take my good byes, milady. I know not when my lord will call me, and sleep will be needed to face the days that are as yet dawnless. I wish you happiness and hope in this growing darkness if we do not meet again. Good night, milady."
"Good night, Ernil I Pherinniath. For a new day, ere the sun rises." And she gathered her skirts, and wrapped the cloak tighter about her shoulders as Pippin eased the large door open, and shut it silently behind him.
"Now I know why Boromir loves his white rose so: not the most hardy of plants, but the most beautiful, the one that the gardener worships in cultivating."
-*-*-*-*-*- I'd like to thank the Academy...aww, screw them, I'd rather thank my reviewers!
Terreis- I love to love and be loved. And yes, as I have been saying, the dead man will, alas for some, not be dead. * cheering erupts* and thank you for the thing about the AU...I'm not really grounded on all that fan fic jazz.
DJ Sparkles- Thank you so very much! You people who love me make my day so much more worth living. And I love writing book cannon, as evidenced above.
Sz2000- Thank you! Like I said, I love you who love me. And I'm glad you can see yourself in Minas Tirith.
Jack Sparrow is my hamster- I'm sorry, but I have to say this. Every time I see your name, I crack up. That being over and done with, I love writing freaking amazing stories- I aim to please. It's nice to know there are people out there who read and love my work. I can now put a small flag in Scotland on my 'Countries reached by my work' map, subtitled 'My evil plan to take over the world'. *cracks up*
Sir lady Alanna cooper- you probably read the note at the start of the chapter...* backs away slowly, cowering* send me not from your sight....I've only ever served you...
Terreis- * looks amazed* I'm esteemed?...Wow...this is...um...rather un- humbling...is that even a word? I'm glad I can bring sunshine to your probably otherwise gray and dreary cubicle...may I recommend Christmas lights year round if you feel like bring different? I have some purple ones in mine. Granted, I get funny looks, but they look cool!
Awww.... I wrote some of this for one of my friends, who is a huge pippin fan- Billy Boyd has an awesome voice, she'd like to reiteratate * tell us something we don't know*- and I had this thing running through my head for what seemed like forever, and I worked some more book cannon into it!
And don't you just adore my rose allegories? Leave nice reviews and tell me if you found enough of them.