Elspion had locked the door to her chambers, snatching at her dark hair and weeping copiously. Her form was writhing on the stone floor, as though she was possessed, and her usually immaculate gown was smeared with stains, entombing her child-swollen stomach. Their baby was due in the waning of the next moon. His baby. Elspion had married the Steward's first born following his return from Osgilliath… only to be taken away from her once again. On a quest from his father, his mysterious journey took Boromir far away from his wife, of whose pregnancy he was unaware of.
Elspion had stopped crying abruptly, and clutched her belly. Her waters had broken. Whimpering in despair, she crawled to her marriage bed, and collapsed onto its yielding surface. The maid who had been keeping watch outside her door noted the sudden silence in her lady's chambers, and reached for the door handle.
"My lady Elspion?" she paused, "My lady?"
The maid looked up and down the stone corridor, and finding nobody, ran down to the servant's quarters to seek help.
Elspion tossed in high fever against her pillows. The physician felt her forehead and sighed. He had known Elspion since she was a small girl, living in a lower region of the great city. Her mother and father had been respectable, but her father had been killed a short time ago in the raid on Osgilliath, and her mother had killed herself soon afterwards. The death of her husband appeared to be the final blow to Elspion's resilient nature.
"When was the last time she ate something?" he enquired miserably of the maid.
"Four days, sir. She just refused her food, sir. I thought that she'd come around."
"Did you not think of the child's welfare? Her child has died, due to her lack of nourishment."
The maid gasped out another sob and covered her face.
And Elspion dreamed, dreamed of another time.
Elspion was not truly remarkable or outstanding physically, but she was the type of person whom others trusted, and felt safe with. She was slightly taller than average, and had dark, slightly wavy her. She was pale, but perhaps she only seemed that way in her mourning clothes. Her face was long, and her lips seemed a measure too big for her. Her green eyes were always full of happiness in recompense. Elspion's black veil shrouded her face against the stares of the people. The death of her father had been difficult, and though she loved him, she was not greatly moved by his death. He had always been away from their home, fighting in distant, and sometimes, not so distant lands. The death of her mother was completely different. Selwyn and Elspion had been as close as a mother and her daughter could be. It was common to see them in the outer reaches of the city, visiting their servant's market stall or walking towards the Temple.
This was where Elspion was sitting now. Her mother had been cremated two days before, and Elspion felt alone, so had come here to ask the Valar for whatever comfort they could offer.
The cool white marble ran beneath her feet, and a shadow was cast over her. Looking up, she was met with the strong looking face of Lord Boromir. Beneath her veil, she smiled to herself. She did not know what Boromir saw in her, but she was willing to accept his advances. She had taken an instant liking to him in the Steward's annual feast; he had always looked so carefree and amiable. Elspion had not recognized that she loved Boromir until he had left for Osgilliath, but she knew now that she had always loved him, and she saw that he loved her too.
But now his face was darkened. His campaign in Osgilliath had come to a successful conclusion, but he had seen his men, his friends, killed before his eyes for far too long. He sat beside Elspion and looked straight ahead of him.
"I am sorry for your loss, Lady Elspion."
She nodded dolefully, and her shoulders slumped.
"Please… let us go somewhere else, we need to talk."
Elspion did not say a word; she merely got up to follow Boromir. He offered her his arm, and they walked out of the Temple together. They ambled up to the Courtyard in silence, temporarily content in each others company.
The couple sat on the verge of the grass, and with a wave of his hand, Boromir dismissed the soldiers who guarded the White Tree. Turning to Elspion, he lifted her veil and looked into her eyes.
"Elspion… I must leave Minas Tirith tomorrow morn. My father has another mission for me…"
"But, my lord! You have returned to us only this day!"
Boromir looked away in anger. Fearing that she had upset him, she reached for his hand. He grabbed it and in one swift motion brought her face to his, so that their lips touched. Elspion closed her eyes and wound her other arm about the back of his neck. She could feel him grinning through the kiss. Eventually, she pulled away.
"What does this mean, my lord?"
"It means that you can call me by my name. Elspion, I'm going away. Before I go, I want to know that you are mine, and that no other man will take you for his, whilst I am gone. Please say that you will marry me?" He studied her face carefully as he asked this all important question.
Elspion's green eyes glistened as she nodded her dark head.
"Boromir, I…" but she got no further, as her fiancé caught her lips once again, his warm caress displacing any doubts from her mind. His kiss was deep and comforting to her, but he pulled away much too soon.
"We have much to do then, before I leave. The ceremony will have to take place today… Elspion, are you sure that you want to marry me?"
"I am perfectly sure. But… Can we only ask close friends to attend? I do not think that it is exactly suitable to have a large ceremony, whilst I am mourning the loss of my parents."
"I would have it no other way."
The ceremony was small, true to Boromir's word. He was clothed in his polished armour, the white tree emblazoned onto the breast-plate. Elspion wore a plain white dress with flowing sleeves, and her mother's silver hair slide. The simplicity of her attire only made Boromir's love grow for her. The sun was dying as Boromir led his new wife to their chambers. Elspion shivered slightly, and forced herself to calm down. She had heard the stories of love making from the servants, when they thought she was not listening. Elspion knew that Boromir would never hurt her intentionally, but she could not keep the anxiety from her face, as Boromir locked the door after she had entered. He drew her to him with a concerned expression.
"Elspion… we do not need to do this, if you do not wish it…"
"No, I love you, and I want this to happen. We only have this one night together."
"You are right. Curse my father, Faramir was willing to go in my stead. My place is here, with our people... and you." He added, rubbing her shoulder lightly through the thin fabric of her dress.
Elspion took his hand and walked silently to the large bed, coated in blue linen. She sat on the edge, Boromir standing before her, his hand still held in hers. He knelt down, and she slowly helped him to remove the armour, her dark hair resting on his shoulder as she bent down. Boromir took it and kissed it lightly, making his way up the lock to Elspion's face, where he trailed his mouth over her cheekbones and towards her lips. At last, his breastplate came loose, and he rested it on the stand by the bed. Next came the bazubands and leg coverings, until he stood before Elspion in only his black leggings and shirt. Slowly, he pulled Elspion to her feet and turned her around, to unlace the back of her white dress. His hands, so deft in battle, fumbled with the intricate lacings. Elspion stood in patience, her heart pounding at the thought of Boromir's hands on her bare flesh. He pulled the last string loose, and her dress fell to the floor, exposing her white breasts to Boromir's sight. She looked up at him, almost shyly, but he merely stared at her, disbelief that Elspion was his at last, and she was willing to give herself to him, completely. He stepped forward and kissed her neck, slowly and deliberately, as she undid the fastenings to his shirt. Elspion stroked Boromir's chest and the rippling muscles over his back, which his years as a soldier had given him. Boromir picked up his new wife and laid her on the bed gently, moving his hand down her sides rhythmically.
"Elspion…" he breathed.
In answer, she brought his lips down to hers and wrapped herself about him. He kicked off his leggings, which landed in a heap on the stone floor. They both faced each other, momentarily still and silent.
"I love you, Elspion."
It was then that she brought Boromir down to her, and in one thrust, he was a part of her, their forms melding into one being, devoid of any other emotion but love. Apart form a brief pain, Elspion knew of nothing else but Boromir and his tenderness. A blissful heat past through her loins, as Boromir continued to move inside of her. Moaning, she met him with every movement, until he collapsed onto the bed, and cradled his wife in his arms. He kissed her forehead, as she ran her fingers along his jaw line.
"I love you too," she whispered, as she drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Their love was shown for each other many times that night. Elspion was not to know that it would be the only night she would ever have with her husband.
The following morning, Boromir arose early, and, watching his sleeping lover, drew out his travelling garments and clothed himself. He made towards the door, when Elspion opened her eyes.
"Boromir? You are leaving?" she sat up in the large bed, and the covers pooled about her. With three strides, Boromir was beside his wife, his gloved hand stroking her cheek.
"I will return soon, my love. Do not worry." He smiled and kissed her quickly. "I must go… I ride to Osgilliath to say farewell to my brother."
"I will try not to worry about you," she smiled, "Farewell then, my love; I can only pray that you will be swift."
Boromir kissed her again, and walked to the door. He looked back, to see Elspion staring at him, tears welling in her eyes.
The news came to Gondor that their hero had fallen. The horn of Gondor was found, cloven in two. As it was presented to Denethor, he fell forward, tears streaming down his wan face. Elspion, seated at his feet, looked on in silence, unbelieving. Gracefully, she got to her feet and walked stately up to her room, still muted. No tears fell. She walked. When she reached their chambers, she turned, and locked the door, falling to the floor with a shudder, and she let out a scream. In the lower reaches of Minas Tirith, her cries could be heard.
Elspion no longer tossed in fever. The birth of her child had not only killed Boromir's son, but her too. The sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows, turning her porcelain skin to crimson, blues, yellows and greens. She had been too weak to take to the Houses of Healing, and the physician had done all in his power, but Elspion had no will to continue living.
She was buried later that day with her son. The physician, who had attended her, prayed that Elspion had found her lover in the new life that she had entered.
Elspion waded through the clouds at her feet, clutching a bundle of rags. She could barely see ahead of her, but continued to stumble and wander. She stopped, as a hand had emerged in front of her, next an arm, and then the body of somebody all too familiar. The two figures embraced, the bundle between them moving restlessly. With a sigh that filled the air, the group melted into the fog...
a/n- Yes, fluffy ending. Remember to please r&r!