A/N: This one's a bit longer, as some ppl requested. Please review!
Encouragement! I know this is historically inaccurate, as Finduilas dies
when Faramir is around five, but for my story purposes, she dies when he is
seven, so Elentari still remembers her a bit. I try. I try. I own Ariethel
and Elentari and I wish, Faramir, but no. He belongs to JRR Tolkien, along
with everyone else. I will be updating like crazy, as I am on spring break,
so please review! I'm having some difficulty with the formatting, so yea,
the song Finduilas sings is in weird format.
Chapter 2:Gone where I can't follow
Minas Tirith was in mourning; the White City was veiled in black.
Finduilas held her 'daughter' in her arms and led the funeral procession. Dressed and veiled in black, her usually proud head slumped low and dreary; her spirit broken. The usually playful light of her eyes was gone; vanished. It seemed to the White City, that with Ariethel's death, Finduilas had died too. Denethor walked beside her, his proud head held high, his face grim and cold, his tread unfaltering. His expression was set, serious and grim, like a shield that repels all bouts of pain and grief. Faramir and Boromir walked alongside their mother, slow and unsteady. Faramir's eyes were full of tears. Tears for his beloved aunt, who had played with him when his mother was ill, when Denethor was too busy, and when Boromir shunned him. Aunt Ariethel, who had bought him secret treats when he was feeling ill or down. Aunt Ariethel, who had cradled him at night when he had had nightmares. He felt grief especially hard, for one so young, which had to do with his gentle nature. As the procession reached Silent Street, Finduilas gave the sleeping baby to her handmaid. She raised her once-proud head and sang:
You have gone Where I cannot follow Dear friend Linger while you can And wait awhile for me
Closer than kin, My friend You stood beside me Through light and shadow Happiness and sorrow
But now you're gone Gone where I can't follow Leaving me with just the sorrow No glimmer in the darkness
Ai, Ariethel Dear friend Ai, Ariethel Dear sister Ai, Ariethel
Finduilas closed her weary eyes, dropped on her knees, and let her last tears drop from her long lashes. With that, Ariethel was placed in her tomb; forever to dwell in the cold, grey stone. Yet her spirit had found the halls of Mandos, the halls of Men and some of her Elven kin. For she was of the kin of Nimrodel, or at least of her maids, of Amroth, and the Elven blood ran through her veins, as it did that of her daughter, Elentari.
"Finduilas, melda*, come. We must let her go. Do not dwell on the dead and forget to live, my love. We will see her again one day, when we too make that journey, far from this Middle-Earth," Denethor murmured, a hand on his wife's shoulder.
It took Finduilas a few days to recover from her friend's death in body, but in spirit she would never fully heal. She took the baby Elentari into her own care, and as she promised, loved her as a daughter. Her sons, especially Faramir, took to the girl very well. Finduilas believed that Faramir wanted someone younger to play with, someone who was not so different in age, as he and Boromir were. Do not assume that Boromir shunned Faramir, for that was not the case. "Between the brothers there was great love... Boromir was the helper and protector of Faramir." However, Finduilas's assumption was not the case, as Faramir felt a connection with this younger sister of his; someone to share his loneliness and his sorrows.
Boromir looked to Elentari as his younger sister, for him to protect and aid, just as he did Faramir. It quirked him a bit that his mother was spending so much time on the baby girl, but he overcame that fairly quickly, for it was not in Boromir's nature to be envious.
As the girl steadily grew older, she proved to take to the Elven blood within her, enmeshed with that of the nobles of Gondor. Her long dark hair flew behind her as she raced with the wind. She had the grey, sea longing eyes, that of the old lords of Numenor and the Teleri Elves. Finduilas would look upon her and smile, and whisper to the wind, "Ariethel, you would be proud of her. She is as beautiful as you are."
"Boromir! Where are you going?" Faramir cried.
"Oh, we're just going to the lower levels. Stay here Faramir," an eleven-year-old Boromir replied to his six-year-old brother.
"Can I come? Please? I promise I won't be of any trouble," Faramir begged, wanting to tag along with his brother and friends.
"No Faramir. Stay here. It's not safe."
"Then why are you going?"
"Because I'm bigger and it's okay for me."
"Boromir. Please?"
"No," the firm and final answer came. Faramir pouted as he watched his brother and friends run off laughing amongst themselves. Finding nothing to do, he trudged back to his chambers, finding his mother and three-year-old Elentari in the gardens.
"Faramir, melda*, what's wrong?" Finduilas asked her still sulking son.
"Boromir went to the lower levels with his friends," he complained. His mother smiled and took him in her arms. Faramir buried his face in his mother's arms, taking in the scent of flowers always upon her. He turned at someone tugging at his tunic.
"You can play with me," Elentari offered.
Without hesitating, Faramir replied, "What are we playing?"
"You pick, you're older."
"How about you hide, and I'll find you," Faramir suggested.
"Okay." Faramir counted, with Finduilas checking to make sure he wasn't peeking, while Elentari hid. She climbed a tree easily, a gift of the Elves, and hid amongst the branches, willing the leaves to cover her. Faramir looked and looked, but could not find her. "Mother, where is she?"
Finduilas smiled, a lovely smile, "Child, you must find her yourself." Faramir sighed, frustrated and continued to look. After circling the garden for the umpteenth time, he heard a childish giggle from above. He looked up, to see a small foot dangling from a tree limb. He climbed a few limbs, reached out and grabbed the foot. Elentari shrieked and giggled as she dangled from the tree.
"Found you!! Found you! My turn now!" Faramir exclaimed triumphantly. Elentari made her way down from the tree and counted. They played rounds and rounds, Faramir forgetting his trouble with Boromir. Laughter filled the air as Finduilas watched her children-one her son, one the daughter of her dearest friend.
As dusk fell and cold began to stir the air, Finduilas beckoned them inside. After dinner, they sat in her chambers around a fire. Elentari sat in Finduilas lap, her head resting on her shoulder, while Faramir sat below, his head resting against her knee.
"Nana*, tell me a story," Elentari requested. Finduilas smiled at the endearing term the young girl used for her and asked, "What kind of story do you wish to hear, my love?"
"Tell us one about Aunt Ariethel. About how you met," Faramir requested. Hearing her mother's name, Elentari tensed. She did not remember Ariethel, as Finduilas was the only mother she knew or would know. Ariethel to her was a mere memory of loveliness and warmth, for she knew naught of her, only the name.
"Well, Ariethel, your mother Elentari, was my dearest friend. We were born under the same sign, in Amroth. Our mothers were dear friends, though your mother was of kin of Imrahil, of Elven blood. She had descended from an Elven maid, Nimrodel herself, or one of her handmaidens. We were dearest friends, I did everything I could for her, and she did for me. We were never seen apart. Even when I was married to Minas Tirith, to Lord Denethor, Ariethel came along with me as my maid of honor. She dwelt in this city with me, accompanying me daily. Her happiness was a bit tainted, however, and I soon realized it. She was lonely, and a bit homesick for Dol Amroth. I talked to her about it, about returning home, but she shook her proud head. 'My place is with you, my lady.' She rarely called me lady, mostly just as a tease, but I saw this time, she was serious."
"But wasn't she of high birth?" Faramir questioned.
"She was. But she had given it up to come with me to Gondor, a bit to the sorrow of our people in Amroth. When I was with Boromir, we spent our days fantasizing over what our children would do, and it dawned on me that it was high time for her to be married. She herself helped me deliver Boromir, and she personally swaddled him. After I had recovered from the birth, I asked her about a husband. She merely smiled and said, 'Well, my lovely Finduilas, find me a man you deem worthy and I shall tell.'"
"Was that Uncle Hurin?" Faramir piped up.
"Hush Faramir, you will see," Finduilas chided. Elentari's eyes were wide with wonder. She had never known this about her parents. They had merely been names, meaning nothing to her, only distant figures of endearment. Finduilas was her mother, as far as she was concerned, and on the rare occasions when Denethor was not grim and distant, her father.
"Over the next few months, I looked about the city and I noticed that Ariethel had become quite dear to a man of the name Hurin, named after Turambar's father, of old. He was of high birth in Gondor, a friend of Denethor's. They would gaze at each other at the feasts held after great victories. Ariethel would smile secretly at every mention of him. I saw quite plainly that my dear friend was in love."
"Hurin was my father," Elentari said, it was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes he was, Elentari. I spoke to Denethor of the matter, and he quite happily arranged the matter. When asked, both Hurin and Ariethel were quite happy and gave their consent. They were married on New Year's Eve four years ago. A bit to my sorrow, Ariethel moved out of my house, and started her own, of course. I knew it would happen, but we were still together for the main portions of the day. She was happy, and I was happy for her. A few months into their marriage, Hurin left for a scouting trip to Ithilien, with his fellow Rangers. Days after he left, Ariethel was plunged into melancholy, for her heart forbade the oncoming events. However, joy was soon found when she discovered she was with child."
"With me," Elentari added solemnly.
"Yes, and she was happy, for a time, until a handful of the rangers came back, reporting an ambush near Cair Andros. Most of the men had been slaughtered, including Hurin."
"My father was killed," Elentari said, her eyes grave and wane.
"Your mother tore her hair out in sorrow. She ran through the city, screaming and sobbing at the news. We tried to calm her, to bring her some comfort, but there was nothing we could do. Her hysteria soon ended, but was replaced by a deadly silence. She no longer smiled, nor sang, and the people grew sad, for Ariethel's voice had brought joy to many. However, she found courage to carry on, for love of you. She would sometimes come to me and sit and would whisper, 'At least I still have my child,' and would stroke her bulging belly."
"Did my father even know about me?" Elentari asked suddenly.
Finduilas sighed and stroked the girl's dark hair, "No, I don't think he did. In his heart, he may have, but there is no way to know." Elentari sighed and nodded. Faramir could feel her sorrow, ebbing out of her young heart, and grasped her hand, letting her know that he was there.
"A few months later, I returned from a trip to Amroth, a trip Ariethel did not make, to find her in labor. I rushed to the Houses of Healing and sat with her. Her delivery was especially difficult and soon after you were born, she died, living only long enough to name you and to make sure you were taken care of."
"So if I hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died," Elentari stated simply.
Finduilas was up in an instant, "Elentari. Don't think that you're the one who caused your mother's death. She gave up her life so you could have one. She wanted to, she chose to. It was her choice. She would not want you to doubt her. Please child, now I regret having told you the story. I did not mean to grieve your young life."
"I am not grieved Nana, for I knew the death of my mother, but I take you for my mother," Elentari spoke.
"Your mother loved you and if she were still here, would have raised you herself, but since she is not, I am doing it for her."
"I love you Nana," Elentari said innocently, embracing Finduilas. Faramir jumped in and said, "I also love you, Nana."
Releasing her children, Finduilas ordered, "It's long past your bedtime. Go my children. Go rest. Sleep in peace." The children went together to their own chambers. Finduilas murmured, "fúmë, hiniya*."
*melda: my love
*nana: Elvish word for "mom". Mother is amille, but nana is more endearing.
*"fúmë, hiniya": Sleep, my children.
Chapter 2:Gone where I can't follow
Minas Tirith was in mourning; the White City was veiled in black.
Finduilas held her 'daughter' in her arms and led the funeral procession. Dressed and veiled in black, her usually proud head slumped low and dreary; her spirit broken. The usually playful light of her eyes was gone; vanished. It seemed to the White City, that with Ariethel's death, Finduilas had died too. Denethor walked beside her, his proud head held high, his face grim and cold, his tread unfaltering. His expression was set, serious and grim, like a shield that repels all bouts of pain and grief. Faramir and Boromir walked alongside their mother, slow and unsteady. Faramir's eyes were full of tears. Tears for his beloved aunt, who had played with him when his mother was ill, when Denethor was too busy, and when Boromir shunned him. Aunt Ariethel, who had bought him secret treats when he was feeling ill or down. Aunt Ariethel, who had cradled him at night when he had had nightmares. He felt grief especially hard, for one so young, which had to do with his gentle nature. As the procession reached Silent Street, Finduilas gave the sleeping baby to her handmaid. She raised her once-proud head and sang:
You have gone Where I cannot follow Dear friend Linger while you can And wait awhile for me
Closer than kin, My friend You stood beside me Through light and shadow Happiness and sorrow
But now you're gone Gone where I can't follow Leaving me with just the sorrow No glimmer in the darkness
Ai, Ariethel Dear friend Ai, Ariethel Dear sister Ai, Ariethel
Finduilas closed her weary eyes, dropped on her knees, and let her last tears drop from her long lashes. With that, Ariethel was placed in her tomb; forever to dwell in the cold, grey stone. Yet her spirit had found the halls of Mandos, the halls of Men and some of her Elven kin. For she was of the kin of Nimrodel, or at least of her maids, of Amroth, and the Elven blood ran through her veins, as it did that of her daughter, Elentari.
"Finduilas, melda*, come. We must let her go. Do not dwell on the dead and forget to live, my love. We will see her again one day, when we too make that journey, far from this Middle-Earth," Denethor murmured, a hand on his wife's shoulder.
It took Finduilas a few days to recover from her friend's death in body, but in spirit she would never fully heal. She took the baby Elentari into her own care, and as she promised, loved her as a daughter. Her sons, especially Faramir, took to the girl very well. Finduilas believed that Faramir wanted someone younger to play with, someone who was not so different in age, as he and Boromir were. Do not assume that Boromir shunned Faramir, for that was not the case. "Between the brothers there was great love... Boromir was the helper and protector of Faramir." However, Finduilas's assumption was not the case, as Faramir felt a connection with this younger sister of his; someone to share his loneliness and his sorrows.
Boromir looked to Elentari as his younger sister, for him to protect and aid, just as he did Faramir. It quirked him a bit that his mother was spending so much time on the baby girl, but he overcame that fairly quickly, for it was not in Boromir's nature to be envious.
As the girl steadily grew older, she proved to take to the Elven blood within her, enmeshed with that of the nobles of Gondor. Her long dark hair flew behind her as she raced with the wind. She had the grey, sea longing eyes, that of the old lords of Numenor and the Teleri Elves. Finduilas would look upon her and smile, and whisper to the wind, "Ariethel, you would be proud of her. She is as beautiful as you are."
"Boromir! Where are you going?" Faramir cried.
"Oh, we're just going to the lower levels. Stay here Faramir," an eleven-year-old Boromir replied to his six-year-old brother.
"Can I come? Please? I promise I won't be of any trouble," Faramir begged, wanting to tag along with his brother and friends.
"No Faramir. Stay here. It's not safe."
"Then why are you going?"
"Because I'm bigger and it's okay for me."
"Boromir. Please?"
"No," the firm and final answer came. Faramir pouted as he watched his brother and friends run off laughing amongst themselves. Finding nothing to do, he trudged back to his chambers, finding his mother and three-year-old Elentari in the gardens.
"Faramir, melda*, what's wrong?" Finduilas asked her still sulking son.
"Boromir went to the lower levels with his friends," he complained. His mother smiled and took him in her arms. Faramir buried his face in his mother's arms, taking in the scent of flowers always upon her. He turned at someone tugging at his tunic.
"You can play with me," Elentari offered.
Without hesitating, Faramir replied, "What are we playing?"
"You pick, you're older."
"How about you hide, and I'll find you," Faramir suggested.
"Okay." Faramir counted, with Finduilas checking to make sure he wasn't peeking, while Elentari hid. She climbed a tree easily, a gift of the Elves, and hid amongst the branches, willing the leaves to cover her. Faramir looked and looked, but could not find her. "Mother, where is she?"
Finduilas smiled, a lovely smile, "Child, you must find her yourself." Faramir sighed, frustrated and continued to look. After circling the garden for the umpteenth time, he heard a childish giggle from above. He looked up, to see a small foot dangling from a tree limb. He climbed a few limbs, reached out and grabbed the foot. Elentari shrieked and giggled as she dangled from the tree.
"Found you!! Found you! My turn now!" Faramir exclaimed triumphantly. Elentari made her way down from the tree and counted. They played rounds and rounds, Faramir forgetting his trouble with Boromir. Laughter filled the air as Finduilas watched her children-one her son, one the daughter of her dearest friend.
As dusk fell and cold began to stir the air, Finduilas beckoned them inside. After dinner, they sat in her chambers around a fire. Elentari sat in Finduilas lap, her head resting on her shoulder, while Faramir sat below, his head resting against her knee.
"Nana*, tell me a story," Elentari requested. Finduilas smiled at the endearing term the young girl used for her and asked, "What kind of story do you wish to hear, my love?"
"Tell us one about Aunt Ariethel. About how you met," Faramir requested. Hearing her mother's name, Elentari tensed. She did not remember Ariethel, as Finduilas was the only mother she knew or would know. Ariethel to her was a mere memory of loveliness and warmth, for she knew naught of her, only the name.
"Well, Ariethel, your mother Elentari, was my dearest friend. We were born under the same sign, in Amroth. Our mothers were dear friends, though your mother was of kin of Imrahil, of Elven blood. She had descended from an Elven maid, Nimrodel herself, or one of her handmaidens. We were dearest friends, I did everything I could for her, and she did for me. We were never seen apart. Even when I was married to Minas Tirith, to Lord Denethor, Ariethel came along with me as my maid of honor. She dwelt in this city with me, accompanying me daily. Her happiness was a bit tainted, however, and I soon realized it. She was lonely, and a bit homesick for Dol Amroth. I talked to her about it, about returning home, but she shook her proud head. 'My place is with you, my lady.' She rarely called me lady, mostly just as a tease, but I saw this time, she was serious."
"But wasn't she of high birth?" Faramir questioned.
"She was. But she had given it up to come with me to Gondor, a bit to the sorrow of our people in Amroth. When I was with Boromir, we spent our days fantasizing over what our children would do, and it dawned on me that it was high time for her to be married. She herself helped me deliver Boromir, and she personally swaddled him. After I had recovered from the birth, I asked her about a husband. She merely smiled and said, 'Well, my lovely Finduilas, find me a man you deem worthy and I shall tell.'"
"Was that Uncle Hurin?" Faramir piped up.
"Hush Faramir, you will see," Finduilas chided. Elentari's eyes were wide with wonder. She had never known this about her parents. They had merely been names, meaning nothing to her, only distant figures of endearment. Finduilas was her mother, as far as she was concerned, and on the rare occasions when Denethor was not grim and distant, her father.
"Over the next few months, I looked about the city and I noticed that Ariethel had become quite dear to a man of the name Hurin, named after Turambar's father, of old. He was of high birth in Gondor, a friend of Denethor's. They would gaze at each other at the feasts held after great victories. Ariethel would smile secretly at every mention of him. I saw quite plainly that my dear friend was in love."
"Hurin was my father," Elentari said, it was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes he was, Elentari. I spoke to Denethor of the matter, and he quite happily arranged the matter. When asked, both Hurin and Ariethel were quite happy and gave their consent. They were married on New Year's Eve four years ago. A bit to my sorrow, Ariethel moved out of my house, and started her own, of course. I knew it would happen, but we were still together for the main portions of the day. She was happy, and I was happy for her. A few months into their marriage, Hurin left for a scouting trip to Ithilien, with his fellow Rangers. Days after he left, Ariethel was plunged into melancholy, for her heart forbade the oncoming events. However, joy was soon found when she discovered she was with child."
"With me," Elentari added solemnly.
"Yes, and she was happy, for a time, until a handful of the rangers came back, reporting an ambush near Cair Andros. Most of the men had been slaughtered, including Hurin."
"My father was killed," Elentari said, her eyes grave and wane.
"Your mother tore her hair out in sorrow. She ran through the city, screaming and sobbing at the news. We tried to calm her, to bring her some comfort, but there was nothing we could do. Her hysteria soon ended, but was replaced by a deadly silence. She no longer smiled, nor sang, and the people grew sad, for Ariethel's voice had brought joy to many. However, she found courage to carry on, for love of you. She would sometimes come to me and sit and would whisper, 'At least I still have my child,' and would stroke her bulging belly."
"Did my father even know about me?" Elentari asked suddenly.
Finduilas sighed and stroked the girl's dark hair, "No, I don't think he did. In his heart, he may have, but there is no way to know." Elentari sighed and nodded. Faramir could feel her sorrow, ebbing out of her young heart, and grasped her hand, letting her know that he was there.
"A few months later, I returned from a trip to Amroth, a trip Ariethel did not make, to find her in labor. I rushed to the Houses of Healing and sat with her. Her delivery was especially difficult and soon after you were born, she died, living only long enough to name you and to make sure you were taken care of."
"So if I hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died," Elentari stated simply.
Finduilas was up in an instant, "Elentari. Don't think that you're the one who caused your mother's death. She gave up her life so you could have one. She wanted to, she chose to. It was her choice. She would not want you to doubt her. Please child, now I regret having told you the story. I did not mean to grieve your young life."
"I am not grieved Nana, for I knew the death of my mother, but I take you for my mother," Elentari spoke.
"Your mother loved you and if she were still here, would have raised you herself, but since she is not, I am doing it for her."
"I love you Nana," Elentari said innocently, embracing Finduilas. Faramir jumped in and said, "I also love you, Nana."
Releasing her children, Finduilas ordered, "It's long past your bedtime. Go my children. Go rest. Sleep in peace." The children went together to their own chambers. Finduilas murmured, "fúmë, hiniya*."
*melda: my love
*nana: Elvish word for "mom". Mother is amille, but nana is more endearing.
*"fúmë, hiniya": Sleep, my children.