A/N: Hope you like it. A bit of Elvish, of course, translations at the
bottom. Reviews! Tolkien owns everyone but Isilmë, who is a poor victim of
my twisted mind. Faramir, to my great angst and sorrow, does not belong to
me. His lovely character belongs to Tolkien and his fair countenance-David
Wenham, who MOST unfortunately, does not belong to me. Araniel belongs to
my most faithful reviewer. This chapter builds up some of the conflict that
will later ensue between Faramir and Elentari. Thanks reviewers! Keep at
it!
Chapter 13: Duty
Seasons passed by fleetingly, winter to spring, and soon, Elentari was two weeks before her eighteenth year. She looked upon it with dread, however, as Denethor had gone through with his celebration plans. He had invited almost everyone he deemed "worthy" in Middle-Earth. He said his plans were to offer her a proper celebration that she had not had since her second year, but Elentari, along with Faramir and Boromir, knew fully well what the Steward really had in mind. Times were tough and increasingly dangerous, making everyone seek stronger ties. Ties with a power such as Gondor were particularly welcome, so practically everyone accepted their invitation.
Denethor had ordered a new gown by her design and his approval. It was a brilliant hue of blue, the color of the sky on a summer's day. The soft material rubbed against her skin as her maid fastened her silken sash around her waist. The sleeves were of flowing, silk material, with white stars embroidered on the sides. Her dark hair was slightly coiled inwards and curled around her face, draping down her shoulders to above her waist. The neckline was modest, and she had a string of white stars encircling her neck. Glancing into her looking glass, she was stunned. She had never thought of herself as beautiful, no matter what Faramir told her, but in this attire, she had to admit that she did look a bit attractive. Yet another thought hit her as she was admiring her reflection; more suitors would be attracted to her, in addition to her dowry, title, and country. How different she looked from the portrait that hung beside her looking glass, the young girl perched upon Finduilas's knee, with her two brothers kneeling beside, and the Steward presiding over his household. After traipsing around her room a few times, she removed the elaborate, beautiful gown and replaced it in its box, waiting for the fateful day.
Faramir was in Ithilien again, as was Boromir, but they would return soon for the celebration. Elentari had not seen Denethor in such high spirits for a long while, and it was beginning to wear down her emotions. It was rumored by many, including those in Denethor's counsel that the young lord of the Horsemen of the North, son of the King Theoden was coming to the celebration with the intent of seeking Elentari's hand, or at least to see if she was worthy. Theodred was his name. Faramir had grumbled for days about him before he had left when he had heard. He would be the most prominent suitor there, but Elentari could not overlook the others. Imrahil was coming also and Elentari had sent a letter begging for Araniel, whom she missed.
As the days until the fateful celebration dwindled down, a Horn was heard by the Tower Guard; the Horn of Gondor. The Horn of the Elder. Boromir was home! Elentari was serving Denethor tea when Boromir came in; face and hair windswept, dirt still clinging to his face and clothes from the wild, but altogether, the good-natured smile was still there. It was Boromir. He swept Elentari into his embrace, picking her off the floor and swinging her around; the way he always greeted her. Then, he greeted his father with another warm embrace.
"How fares Osgiliath?" Denethor asked, taking in his son's healthy, dirty face.
"Very well. Orcs have not dared to venture that far of late," Boromir replied.
"They have heard of our daring Captain, and they dare not arouse his wrath, for he should slay them," Denethor boasted of Boromir, who smiled.
"Ah, little one, not so little anymore," Boromir teased Elentari, who smiled sheepishly in return, "I remember when you were this high," motioning to around his waist, "You would follow Faramir and me around all day, singing songs of Elven lore and beating us in swordplay."
"Things haven't changed that much then, have they?"
"Yes. Still singing Elven songs and still, trying and failing to beat me."
"I would take you on, my Lord, but you stink of the Wild and it would not be fair for me to beat someone on an empty stomach," she teased, handing him a cup of tea and some biscuits. She added, "I would suggest you take a bath, unless you intend to fill this entire House with your foulness."
Boromir snorted, "I need to take you out there to the wild. Then you will appreciate what a bath is and not lounge in it for hours."
"I do not lounge! I merely, enjoy," she defended.
"Mm-hmm." Elentari was about to open her mouth in heated response when Denethor intervened, "Elentari. The first of the guests shall be arriving around tomorrow afternoon, and a ball will be held in the eve."
"And Faramir is arriving morrow morn. He plans to be here before dawn to surprise you," Boromir added. Elentari smiled wistfully at this last part. Denethor frowned slightly.
"My Lord, Father, what celebrations are we holding?" Elentari inquired. Though Denethor had already gone over the plans with her, she had never really listened, dreading the day.
"Well, like I said before, when the guests arrive in the eve, we shall hold a grand ball, welcoming all. You will first be presented here. You shall meet all the guests before we dine, and then after, a dance begins. The next morn is for socializing, and in the afternoon, we will hold a miniature jousting tournament," at the last words, he looked at Boromir, who looked eager for the tournament.
"The tournament is to win the lady's favor, that is?" he inquired.
"It can be said, and I would ask of you, my dear daughter, to be quite generous, but reasonable in your favors, as many men will wish to woo you," Denethor requested.
"I grant my favors to those my heart wills," she replied quietly, yet firmly.
"What events are there in the tournament?" Boromir asked, it clearly being his favorite part of the celebration, other than the ale.
"Well, horsemanship, swordsmanship, archery, and then, one-one-one combat." Boromir looked jubilant as Elentari groaned inside. She knew Faramir would endeavor as hard as he could to win those events, but she knew that other than archery, it would be quite a struggle for him.
"The winners of each event will be presented to the Lady, who will congratulate each of them, and pick her favorite out of the four."
"What if one person wins more than one event?" Boromir asked, knowing that he stood a chance for it. He did not want to win Elentari's favor, as she was and only was his darling little sister, but never hesitated to prove his strength and valor in arms.
"Well, then the runner up shall be presented to the lady as well," Denethor said, "And Elentari, I would ask again of you to be reasonable in your favoring."
"I will do what my heart bids," she again answered.
"Elentari, please understand that this holds your future. I would not have a black mark on your name or of this family. Do you understand? Nothing should stand in the way of this celebration, and your name will not be shamed or colored in any form or fashion," Denethor informed, his eyes blazing.
"Yes, my Lord," Elentari said dutifully, but inside, she was seething. He instructed her every move like she had no part in the celebration. She, as well as Boromir, knew that Denethor's words were meant only for Faramir, as everyone knew who already held the favor of the Gondorian Maid of Stars.
As Denethor had predicted, the guests poured in before the sun fell the next day, the first being Imrahil and to Elentari's delight, Araniel, who squealed and ran towards her as she saw her. However, after the next guests arrived, Elentari was shunned to her room to prepare for the evening events. Faramir had returned right after Imrahil, but was only allowed a hasty greeting to his love until she had to go, by Denethor's design. He did not want them together too much when the prospects of her future were in attendance.
As her maid laced the dazzling gown tightly, too tightly in her opinion, Elentari fastened her jewelry and thought about all those out there. So far, she had only glimpsed a few of the young men and ambassadors that arrived. Araniel had already been chattering constantly and had sighed dreamily when she saw many of the arriving guests. She had taken one look at Faramir and declared him, "Not as handsome as his brother, but very attractive," and had begged Elentari to introduce them. She had not had the time, but promised Araniel she would during dinner.
When the sun was barely visible above the horizon in the West, a page knocked on her door signaling that they were ready for her. She stared into the looking glass one last time. The sky matched with the dress, with its blue hue and embroidered white stars, and brought out, as Denethor insisted, the sea-grey of her eyes. White stars draped around her neck and her dark hair curled around her face, over her shoulders, down to her waist. The maid handed her the dark blue sash that reflected the Sea in the midst of the night, and she made her way down the hall. She was a reflection of where the starry sky meets the grey Sea. As she reached the last turn, her nimble feet treading lightly on the marble floors, she heard Denethor speaking, and a guard signaled her presence.
"Now I give you, friends of old, guests from distant lands, the flower of these walls, my jewel daughter, Elentari," Denethor announced, trumpeters taking up the call, and she entered the great Hall. A smile was plastered across her face, a smile that almost touched her eyes. She saw a look of awe cross Boromir's face, and searched the faces for the one she longed for, but did not find it.
"My friends. Our guests. Thank you for coming this day. I am honored to receive your presence in our celebration. I know you shall enjoy your stay with us here in Minas Tirith. But as many of you come from distant lands, traveling far and long, let us wine and dine before we converse and make merry. To the dining hall," she greeted, and with her last words, cheers rang up, as many were famished and tired from their long journey. As all preceded for the dining hall, Denethor whispered in her ear, "All is well, so far."
"You look absolutely stunning, selernya," Boromir murmured, as he approached her.
"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself. You actually bathed," she complimented him, as he wore his best attire and had actually combed and minded his hair!
"Coming from you, that is the biggest compliment I could ever receive," he smiled, "Care to have an escort to the dining hall?" He offered his arm, which she took.
"Where is Faramir?" she asked.
"You will see." As they walked arm in arm down the wooden stairs, Faramir stood at the bottom. His face lit up when he saw her approaching, and was filled with a dazzled expression of awe. He had always thought her beautiful, but in this attire, he barely recognized her. He would have thought it was Luthien Tinuviel standing before him instead of Isilmë Elentari, his love.
"I've never seen Faramir's jaw drop that wide. He looks like he is going to pass out," Boromir teased. As they reached the bottom of the stair, he bowed, "I leave you here, selernya, as you have found a more worthy escort." Elentari smiled and thanked him, and turned towards Faramir, who was still looking at her awestruck.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
"You," he breathed softly.
"You've looked upon me for eighteen years now, Faramir. Haven't you grown tired yet?" she asked, half teasing, half serious.
"I could never look upon you enough, in this garb or not. Though I must say, it is most flattering on you," he said. She smiled half- heartedly, "Yes, but the trouble is, not only you shall think that. We should be in the dining hall."
Faramir looked bitter and cursed under his breath, "It shatters me to think that someone else may have you one day."
"Let's worry about that later. We have guests waiting," she ushered him into the hall, yet her own heart was heavy as she sat next to Denethor at the head of the table. The room was filled with six elongated tables, full of people. Suitors, emissaries, friends, relatives, all had come to celebrate and look upon the Star Maiden of Gondor.
During dinner, a tall, fair-faced man with bright hair that glowed in the darkened evening hall, illuminating it as it was the sun, made his way to Denethor and Elentari. He bowed courteously and waited for Denethor to introduce him.
"This is Theodred of Rohan, son of Theoden King," Denethor introduced. Elentari bowed her head and offered a faint smile, as was customary.
"Thank you for honoring us with your presence at our celebration," she said customarily.
"Thank you for the honor of looking upon your beauty. I can see now that the rumors were true. You are as beautiful as your namesake, maiden of stars," Theodred flattered.
"I fear not, but thou words bring joy to my heart," Elentari said, "Please have a seat," motioning to a seat across from her, which Theodred eagerly took. When the plates were cleared, the minstrels struck up a tune, a waltz; Theodred was the first to ask for her.
"Will thou honor me with a dance, my Lady?" he asked.
"I shall," she accepted, knowing what was expected of her. As they waltzed, Denethor looked on gleefully, feeling that his designs were falling through. Maidens all eager to appeal to the future Steward surrounded Boromir and he carefully selected the most beautiful as his partner. Elentari sighed inwardly and shook her head at those young maidens. They did not know they were wasting their time. Boromir would humor them at such celebrations, and would enjoy and drown in the attention given to him, but he would take none of these fair women to heart. He was a man of arms, of war, and he delighted chiefly in it.
Theodred proved to be an attracting man, and against her will, Elentari somewhat enjoyed his company, though she longed to be with Faramir. She inquired about his homeland, the grassy plains of Rohan. He described vividly the freedom of the hills, where he would take his steed and ride from sunup to sunset, feeling only his horse and the wind streaking through his hair. The image seemed appealing to her, as she desired freedom, but remembered that Rohan was far, even further than Minas Tirith, from the Sea. Theodred listened intently to what she had to say when he inquired about her home, and what she loved to do. He was most interested when she said she loved riding and swords, much to the disapproval of Denethor, and of songs and tales.
He said he wanted to see her ride and wanted to race her.
"Nay, my Lord. I am nothing compared to the Riders of Rohan, whom I have read much about. The Oath of Eorl and your great steeds," she tried to back out.
"Come now, are we too afraid to race? A great rider rides without fear," he coaxed. She smiled apprehensively, knowing she could not back out of this one, "Fine. Tomorrow, I shall ride with you. I see that the tales were true. Not only are the Rohirrim great riders, they are also hardheaded and persistent."
"And I see the tales were true. The Star Maiden of Gondor is not only beautiful, she has wit and thinks she can ride, but we shall see about that on the morrow," he teased.
As the Prince of the Rohirrim attempted to woo the Lady of Stars, Denethor looked on happily, as this was what he was wishing for. However, his son was not. Faramir stood alone by the fire, watching the pair with jealous eyes- the way Elentari smiled and laughed at Theodred's remarks, the way this rider from the North looked upon her with admirable eyes, the way they waltzed around the hall.
As they exchanged stories of their childhood, Boromir tapped Theodred on the shoulder, "Do you mind if I reclaim my sister for a while?"
"Not at all," Theodred replied, handing her over to Boromir, who took her hand and began a dance, as many maidens looked on jealously.
"What happened to all the worry and fret over this man? You seem to have taken well to him," Boromir teased.
"He is a fine man," she replied.
"A fine man with intentions of wedding you some day soon," Boromir said.
"Where is Faramir?" she asked, remembering Faramir, though he had never passed far from her mind.
"I have not seen him. I was surprised he had not asked for you yet," Boromir replied. Elentari looked around for him, but found him not.
"I'll see you later, Boromir," she parted with him, with the intention of leaving to search for Faramir, but was apprehended on her way out, by Denethor and a certain Anarahil, of Amroth.
"May I have this dance?" Anarahil asked, bowing. Elentari wanted to decline him and push it for later, but seeing the look upon Denethor's face, she knew she could not, "You may, my Lord."
As they danced through the couples, she caught a glance of Imrahil, who smiled, seeing her with his kinsman.
"I have visited Amroth, but I did not ever get to make your acquaintance," she said, "Why is that?"
"I am often away, patrolling our borders. Times are dangerous for all, not just Gondor. I was informed of your stay by Araniel, who would not cease to chatter about you, which intrigued me."
"You know Araniel?"
"Yes, sometimes I feel rather unfortunate to be. I am her brother," Anarahil said, making a face at the mention of his sister.
"I adore Araniel. She is so full of life," Elentari said.
"Too full. She never stops," he murmured.
"That is a gift that should not be hindered," she warned, "How is it she never spoke of you?"
"I do not know. She probably wanted to forget that I existed," he said.
"Oh come now. Araniel and you cannot be on such bad terms."
"She's my sister. Surely, with two brothers, you must know how it is."
Elentari smiled, though her heart felt a sharp jab at the mention of Faramir, "We fight, but I think they spoil me."
"You are lucky then, to have temperate brothers. Araniel irritates me, but of course, I love her," Anarahil said. They continued to talk, until Theodred came to her again. Anarahil did not leave her willingly, and looked a little begrudged at Theodred, but for public face could not do anything about it.
"You said, my Lady, that your chief love is in song. Please, sing me a song," Theodred coaxed, leading her out to the cool, night air.
"I have no songs for the wide grasslands you love," she said.
"Come now. Sing me a song. Any song you wish," he said. She hesitated a moment, but then agreed:
Sea of Clouds
Sea of Showers
And we go to the stars.
And we go to the stars.
Sea of Waves
Wonderful to relate; Marvels
Wonderful to see; Wonders
And we go to the stars
And we go to the stars.
Evergreen. A rose garden
Each has its own habits. Each its own
Mine to me. Its own to each is dear.
Remember, life is earth-born
Remember, life is brief
Mine to me. Its own to each is dear.
Theodred was left speechless as she finished the song. One could say that she had him bewitched, under a spell. At that moment, he desired her for his wife. His father had sent him here, quite against his will, to see if this foster daughter of the Steward was satisfactory for a wife, as her connections and background were excellent—tied to both Gondor and Amroth. He had come quite grudgingly, feeling that his father was using him as a tool, but as he laid his eyes upon the Maiden of Stars, and heard her voice fade into the night, he felt that wedding this Southern Lady would be a blessing, not a curse, as he had presupposed.
For the rest of the night, Elentari was unable to do what she desired, to find Faramir. She spent most of the night with Theodred, occasionally with Boromir, but whenever she found a spare moment and made her way to seek Faramir, it seemed to her that someone else turned up to apprehend her, with Denethor standing not too far away. She was called to sing by the minstrels a few times, and she performed outstandingly, but without Faramir's lyre and vocals, her fiddle and song did not resonate as it once did, and her heart was not into her singing.
Finally, as it neared midnight, when most everyone was drunk on mead and ale, especially Boromir, she slipped away. Faramir was not in his room, nor was he in the library, where he usually was. She thought of all the possible places he could be quickly, knowing that her time was limited. They would soon notice that she was gone, the pinnacle of attention, and would seek her. Denethor would know exactly where she had gone, and would not be happy. She ventured light-footedly into the gardens, hoping to see Faramir there, and lo! Her wish was granted. He was there, bathing in the moonlight, singing a soft song of mourning to himself.
"Why such mourning, melda?" she asked. Seeing she was there, he turned away, which caused her to frown, and move closer to him. She touched his shoulder, but he drew away.
"Faramir, mana usahtië*?" she breathed confused, not knowing why he turned from her.
"Le nyarin inye, herinya*," he replied bitterly, referring to her by her title.
"If you have cause to be angry with me, if I have done you wrong, please tell me what it is," she pleaded.
"Why don't you ask that prince of Rohan?" he snapped. Suddenly, with those words, she understood.
"Faramir, I merely played my part. He is a fine man, but in my eyes, no one can rival you. I was doing my duty," her words were lost as he snapped, "Don't talk to me about duty! I know what duty is. Duty is doing what you're told. Duty is doing whatever your Lord commands, though he is an insane, heartless man. Duty is giving up what you love. Duty is selling yourself for your country, to men who would love to have you in their bed each night--"
"Faramir! Let not anger color your words into those you shall regret," she barked the reprimand, her eyes flashing in fury. Seeing that, Faramir knew he had gone too far, to arouse her gentle temper.
"My apologies. I did not mean that. You're right. I let my anger get the best of me," Faramir apologized. Elentari's fiery gaze softened as she saw the lines of wear and sorrow on his face and she reached up to caress it.
"You know that I would never leave you by choice, Faramir. If Father intends to marry me off, he will deliver nothing to the groom but my body. My spirit and soul shall long stay with you, or find the halls of Mandos," she declared, not knowing the weight that these words would later carry.
"Faramir, come back inside. It's cold out here, and I cannot linger here for long. Father will send someone to look for me." Faramir allowed her to lead him back into the Hall, to the jubilant masses of people, some eating, some drinking, most talking, and many dancing.
"There you are!" Araniel said, "Can I finally get the introduction?"
"Oh. Um, Faramir, this is Araniel of Amroth. I told you about her," she introduced, and Faramir nodded politely, "And Araniel, of course this is Faramir."
"Finally! You know how irritating it is to hear about you every minute of every day? She talks of nothing but you!" Araniel complained. Faramir smiled at the younger girl and said, "Oh. So what does she say of me?"
Araniel looked mischievous and Elentari quickly intervened, clearing her throat, "That information is not needed at the time. Araniel, don't make me agree with your brother about your conversational habits." Araniel pouted for a moment, but then that optimistic energy took over again.
"Come, dance with me," Faramir wrapped one arm around Elentari's waist, and the other took her hand. As they swept through the hall, everyone looked on, with mixed opinions. Boromir laughed, and murmured to himself, "It's about time. I was wondering when they were going to show themselves together."
Theodred, Anarahil, and many other prospective suitors frowned a bit, but dismissed their relationship as strictly brother-sister. They were fools to think that, as it was evident to anyone paying any attention that these two were in love. Their eyes shone as they looked upon another and their bodies moved across the floor as one. Denethor scowled, his face turning a deep shade of red. Everything had worked out so flawlessly until now. That younger son of his was not going to ruin everything he had planned.
"I love you," he whispered into her ear as they danced, her feet beneath the dress matching with his booted ones. She did not answer, but kissed him on the cheek, which caused a murmur through the crowd. Denethor's neck turned a deep shade of purple and before the song even came to an end, he stood up, and called, "I am afraid that this is it for tonight, as we are holding a jousting tournament tomorrow, and we would not want the gentlemen to be too tired to fight for the lady's favor." Slowly, one by one, everyone went to their assigned guest rooms, and filled the Citadel. Denethor however, followed Elentari, and as they both entered her room, shut the door behind him.
Elentari stood, her back to him, by her window, waiting for his blowing words.
"Elentari. For most of the night, you were wonderful, social, and entertaining. I can even condone the dance with Faramir, but that kiss? Do you not remember what I said about any color or blemish on your name would utterly destroy your chances of marriage? That was one of them! Luckily, the rumors have not reached these people."
"Father, it was merely a dance with Faramir. It could have been a kiss on Boromir's cheek, or even Theodred's," she defended herself.
"Men do not look fondly upon women who flaunt and flirt with other men," Denethor snapped.
"But wasn't this whole celebration held so men could see me, and you yourself said that I must be entertaining and charming to all," she argued.
At this, Denethor's already magenta face turned a shade deeper, "Elentari. Tomorrow, in the tournament, you will obey me." With that, he turned and stalked out.
*mana usahtië?: What is wrong?
*Le nyarin inye, herinya: You tell me, my Lady.
Chapter 13: Duty
Seasons passed by fleetingly, winter to spring, and soon, Elentari was two weeks before her eighteenth year. She looked upon it with dread, however, as Denethor had gone through with his celebration plans. He had invited almost everyone he deemed "worthy" in Middle-Earth. He said his plans were to offer her a proper celebration that she had not had since her second year, but Elentari, along with Faramir and Boromir, knew fully well what the Steward really had in mind. Times were tough and increasingly dangerous, making everyone seek stronger ties. Ties with a power such as Gondor were particularly welcome, so practically everyone accepted their invitation.
Denethor had ordered a new gown by her design and his approval. It was a brilliant hue of blue, the color of the sky on a summer's day. The soft material rubbed against her skin as her maid fastened her silken sash around her waist. The sleeves were of flowing, silk material, with white stars embroidered on the sides. Her dark hair was slightly coiled inwards and curled around her face, draping down her shoulders to above her waist. The neckline was modest, and she had a string of white stars encircling her neck. Glancing into her looking glass, she was stunned. She had never thought of herself as beautiful, no matter what Faramir told her, but in this attire, she had to admit that she did look a bit attractive. Yet another thought hit her as she was admiring her reflection; more suitors would be attracted to her, in addition to her dowry, title, and country. How different she looked from the portrait that hung beside her looking glass, the young girl perched upon Finduilas's knee, with her two brothers kneeling beside, and the Steward presiding over his household. After traipsing around her room a few times, she removed the elaborate, beautiful gown and replaced it in its box, waiting for the fateful day.
Faramir was in Ithilien again, as was Boromir, but they would return soon for the celebration. Elentari had not seen Denethor in such high spirits for a long while, and it was beginning to wear down her emotions. It was rumored by many, including those in Denethor's counsel that the young lord of the Horsemen of the North, son of the King Theoden was coming to the celebration with the intent of seeking Elentari's hand, or at least to see if she was worthy. Theodred was his name. Faramir had grumbled for days about him before he had left when he had heard. He would be the most prominent suitor there, but Elentari could not overlook the others. Imrahil was coming also and Elentari had sent a letter begging for Araniel, whom she missed.
As the days until the fateful celebration dwindled down, a Horn was heard by the Tower Guard; the Horn of Gondor. The Horn of the Elder. Boromir was home! Elentari was serving Denethor tea when Boromir came in; face and hair windswept, dirt still clinging to his face and clothes from the wild, but altogether, the good-natured smile was still there. It was Boromir. He swept Elentari into his embrace, picking her off the floor and swinging her around; the way he always greeted her. Then, he greeted his father with another warm embrace.
"How fares Osgiliath?" Denethor asked, taking in his son's healthy, dirty face.
"Very well. Orcs have not dared to venture that far of late," Boromir replied.
"They have heard of our daring Captain, and they dare not arouse his wrath, for he should slay them," Denethor boasted of Boromir, who smiled.
"Ah, little one, not so little anymore," Boromir teased Elentari, who smiled sheepishly in return, "I remember when you were this high," motioning to around his waist, "You would follow Faramir and me around all day, singing songs of Elven lore and beating us in swordplay."
"Things haven't changed that much then, have they?"
"Yes. Still singing Elven songs and still, trying and failing to beat me."
"I would take you on, my Lord, but you stink of the Wild and it would not be fair for me to beat someone on an empty stomach," she teased, handing him a cup of tea and some biscuits. She added, "I would suggest you take a bath, unless you intend to fill this entire House with your foulness."
Boromir snorted, "I need to take you out there to the wild. Then you will appreciate what a bath is and not lounge in it for hours."
"I do not lounge! I merely, enjoy," she defended.
"Mm-hmm." Elentari was about to open her mouth in heated response when Denethor intervened, "Elentari. The first of the guests shall be arriving around tomorrow afternoon, and a ball will be held in the eve."
"And Faramir is arriving morrow morn. He plans to be here before dawn to surprise you," Boromir added. Elentari smiled wistfully at this last part. Denethor frowned slightly.
"My Lord, Father, what celebrations are we holding?" Elentari inquired. Though Denethor had already gone over the plans with her, she had never really listened, dreading the day.
"Well, like I said before, when the guests arrive in the eve, we shall hold a grand ball, welcoming all. You will first be presented here. You shall meet all the guests before we dine, and then after, a dance begins. The next morn is for socializing, and in the afternoon, we will hold a miniature jousting tournament," at the last words, he looked at Boromir, who looked eager for the tournament.
"The tournament is to win the lady's favor, that is?" he inquired.
"It can be said, and I would ask of you, my dear daughter, to be quite generous, but reasonable in your favors, as many men will wish to woo you," Denethor requested.
"I grant my favors to those my heart wills," she replied quietly, yet firmly.
"What events are there in the tournament?" Boromir asked, it clearly being his favorite part of the celebration, other than the ale.
"Well, horsemanship, swordsmanship, archery, and then, one-one-one combat." Boromir looked jubilant as Elentari groaned inside. She knew Faramir would endeavor as hard as he could to win those events, but she knew that other than archery, it would be quite a struggle for him.
"The winners of each event will be presented to the Lady, who will congratulate each of them, and pick her favorite out of the four."
"What if one person wins more than one event?" Boromir asked, knowing that he stood a chance for it. He did not want to win Elentari's favor, as she was and only was his darling little sister, but never hesitated to prove his strength and valor in arms.
"Well, then the runner up shall be presented to the lady as well," Denethor said, "And Elentari, I would ask again of you to be reasonable in your favoring."
"I will do what my heart bids," she again answered.
"Elentari, please understand that this holds your future. I would not have a black mark on your name or of this family. Do you understand? Nothing should stand in the way of this celebration, and your name will not be shamed or colored in any form or fashion," Denethor informed, his eyes blazing.
"Yes, my Lord," Elentari said dutifully, but inside, she was seething. He instructed her every move like she had no part in the celebration. She, as well as Boromir, knew that Denethor's words were meant only for Faramir, as everyone knew who already held the favor of the Gondorian Maid of Stars.
As Denethor had predicted, the guests poured in before the sun fell the next day, the first being Imrahil and to Elentari's delight, Araniel, who squealed and ran towards her as she saw her. However, after the next guests arrived, Elentari was shunned to her room to prepare for the evening events. Faramir had returned right after Imrahil, but was only allowed a hasty greeting to his love until she had to go, by Denethor's design. He did not want them together too much when the prospects of her future were in attendance.
As her maid laced the dazzling gown tightly, too tightly in her opinion, Elentari fastened her jewelry and thought about all those out there. So far, she had only glimpsed a few of the young men and ambassadors that arrived. Araniel had already been chattering constantly and had sighed dreamily when she saw many of the arriving guests. She had taken one look at Faramir and declared him, "Not as handsome as his brother, but very attractive," and had begged Elentari to introduce them. She had not had the time, but promised Araniel she would during dinner.
When the sun was barely visible above the horizon in the West, a page knocked on her door signaling that they were ready for her. She stared into the looking glass one last time. The sky matched with the dress, with its blue hue and embroidered white stars, and brought out, as Denethor insisted, the sea-grey of her eyes. White stars draped around her neck and her dark hair curled around her face, over her shoulders, down to her waist. The maid handed her the dark blue sash that reflected the Sea in the midst of the night, and she made her way down the hall. She was a reflection of where the starry sky meets the grey Sea. As she reached the last turn, her nimble feet treading lightly on the marble floors, she heard Denethor speaking, and a guard signaled her presence.
"Now I give you, friends of old, guests from distant lands, the flower of these walls, my jewel daughter, Elentari," Denethor announced, trumpeters taking up the call, and she entered the great Hall. A smile was plastered across her face, a smile that almost touched her eyes. She saw a look of awe cross Boromir's face, and searched the faces for the one she longed for, but did not find it.
"My friends. Our guests. Thank you for coming this day. I am honored to receive your presence in our celebration. I know you shall enjoy your stay with us here in Minas Tirith. But as many of you come from distant lands, traveling far and long, let us wine and dine before we converse and make merry. To the dining hall," she greeted, and with her last words, cheers rang up, as many were famished and tired from their long journey. As all preceded for the dining hall, Denethor whispered in her ear, "All is well, so far."
"You look absolutely stunning, selernya," Boromir murmured, as he approached her.
"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself. You actually bathed," she complimented him, as he wore his best attire and had actually combed and minded his hair!
"Coming from you, that is the biggest compliment I could ever receive," he smiled, "Care to have an escort to the dining hall?" He offered his arm, which she took.
"Where is Faramir?" she asked.
"You will see." As they walked arm in arm down the wooden stairs, Faramir stood at the bottom. His face lit up when he saw her approaching, and was filled with a dazzled expression of awe. He had always thought her beautiful, but in this attire, he barely recognized her. He would have thought it was Luthien Tinuviel standing before him instead of Isilmë Elentari, his love.
"I've never seen Faramir's jaw drop that wide. He looks like he is going to pass out," Boromir teased. As they reached the bottom of the stair, he bowed, "I leave you here, selernya, as you have found a more worthy escort." Elentari smiled and thanked him, and turned towards Faramir, who was still looking at her awestruck.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
"You," he breathed softly.
"You've looked upon me for eighteen years now, Faramir. Haven't you grown tired yet?" she asked, half teasing, half serious.
"I could never look upon you enough, in this garb or not. Though I must say, it is most flattering on you," he said. She smiled half- heartedly, "Yes, but the trouble is, not only you shall think that. We should be in the dining hall."
Faramir looked bitter and cursed under his breath, "It shatters me to think that someone else may have you one day."
"Let's worry about that later. We have guests waiting," she ushered him into the hall, yet her own heart was heavy as she sat next to Denethor at the head of the table. The room was filled with six elongated tables, full of people. Suitors, emissaries, friends, relatives, all had come to celebrate and look upon the Star Maiden of Gondor.
During dinner, a tall, fair-faced man with bright hair that glowed in the darkened evening hall, illuminating it as it was the sun, made his way to Denethor and Elentari. He bowed courteously and waited for Denethor to introduce him.
"This is Theodred of Rohan, son of Theoden King," Denethor introduced. Elentari bowed her head and offered a faint smile, as was customary.
"Thank you for honoring us with your presence at our celebration," she said customarily.
"Thank you for the honor of looking upon your beauty. I can see now that the rumors were true. You are as beautiful as your namesake, maiden of stars," Theodred flattered.
"I fear not, but thou words bring joy to my heart," Elentari said, "Please have a seat," motioning to a seat across from her, which Theodred eagerly took. When the plates were cleared, the minstrels struck up a tune, a waltz; Theodred was the first to ask for her.
"Will thou honor me with a dance, my Lady?" he asked.
"I shall," she accepted, knowing what was expected of her. As they waltzed, Denethor looked on gleefully, feeling that his designs were falling through. Maidens all eager to appeal to the future Steward surrounded Boromir and he carefully selected the most beautiful as his partner. Elentari sighed inwardly and shook her head at those young maidens. They did not know they were wasting their time. Boromir would humor them at such celebrations, and would enjoy and drown in the attention given to him, but he would take none of these fair women to heart. He was a man of arms, of war, and he delighted chiefly in it.
Theodred proved to be an attracting man, and against her will, Elentari somewhat enjoyed his company, though she longed to be with Faramir. She inquired about his homeland, the grassy plains of Rohan. He described vividly the freedom of the hills, where he would take his steed and ride from sunup to sunset, feeling only his horse and the wind streaking through his hair. The image seemed appealing to her, as she desired freedom, but remembered that Rohan was far, even further than Minas Tirith, from the Sea. Theodred listened intently to what she had to say when he inquired about her home, and what she loved to do. He was most interested when she said she loved riding and swords, much to the disapproval of Denethor, and of songs and tales.
He said he wanted to see her ride and wanted to race her.
"Nay, my Lord. I am nothing compared to the Riders of Rohan, whom I have read much about. The Oath of Eorl and your great steeds," she tried to back out.
"Come now, are we too afraid to race? A great rider rides without fear," he coaxed. She smiled apprehensively, knowing she could not back out of this one, "Fine. Tomorrow, I shall ride with you. I see that the tales were true. Not only are the Rohirrim great riders, they are also hardheaded and persistent."
"And I see the tales were true. The Star Maiden of Gondor is not only beautiful, she has wit and thinks she can ride, but we shall see about that on the morrow," he teased.
As the Prince of the Rohirrim attempted to woo the Lady of Stars, Denethor looked on happily, as this was what he was wishing for. However, his son was not. Faramir stood alone by the fire, watching the pair with jealous eyes- the way Elentari smiled and laughed at Theodred's remarks, the way this rider from the North looked upon her with admirable eyes, the way they waltzed around the hall.
As they exchanged stories of their childhood, Boromir tapped Theodred on the shoulder, "Do you mind if I reclaim my sister for a while?"
"Not at all," Theodred replied, handing her over to Boromir, who took her hand and began a dance, as many maidens looked on jealously.
"What happened to all the worry and fret over this man? You seem to have taken well to him," Boromir teased.
"He is a fine man," she replied.
"A fine man with intentions of wedding you some day soon," Boromir said.
"Where is Faramir?" she asked, remembering Faramir, though he had never passed far from her mind.
"I have not seen him. I was surprised he had not asked for you yet," Boromir replied. Elentari looked around for him, but found him not.
"I'll see you later, Boromir," she parted with him, with the intention of leaving to search for Faramir, but was apprehended on her way out, by Denethor and a certain Anarahil, of Amroth.
"May I have this dance?" Anarahil asked, bowing. Elentari wanted to decline him and push it for later, but seeing the look upon Denethor's face, she knew she could not, "You may, my Lord."
As they danced through the couples, she caught a glance of Imrahil, who smiled, seeing her with his kinsman.
"I have visited Amroth, but I did not ever get to make your acquaintance," she said, "Why is that?"
"I am often away, patrolling our borders. Times are dangerous for all, not just Gondor. I was informed of your stay by Araniel, who would not cease to chatter about you, which intrigued me."
"You know Araniel?"
"Yes, sometimes I feel rather unfortunate to be. I am her brother," Anarahil said, making a face at the mention of his sister.
"I adore Araniel. She is so full of life," Elentari said.
"Too full. She never stops," he murmured.
"That is a gift that should not be hindered," she warned, "How is it she never spoke of you?"
"I do not know. She probably wanted to forget that I existed," he said.
"Oh come now. Araniel and you cannot be on such bad terms."
"She's my sister. Surely, with two brothers, you must know how it is."
Elentari smiled, though her heart felt a sharp jab at the mention of Faramir, "We fight, but I think they spoil me."
"You are lucky then, to have temperate brothers. Araniel irritates me, but of course, I love her," Anarahil said. They continued to talk, until Theodred came to her again. Anarahil did not leave her willingly, and looked a little begrudged at Theodred, but for public face could not do anything about it.
"You said, my Lady, that your chief love is in song. Please, sing me a song," Theodred coaxed, leading her out to the cool, night air.
"I have no songs for the wide grasslands you love," she said.
"Come now. Sing me a song. Any song you wish," he said. She hesitated a moment, but then agreed:
Sea of Clouds
Sea of Showers
And we go to the stars.
And we go to the stars.
Sea of Waves
Wonderful to relate; Marvels
Wonderful to see; Wonders
And we go to the stars
And we go to the stars.
Evergreen. A rose garden
Each has its own habits. Each its own
Mine to me. Its own to each is dear.
Remember, life is earth-born
Remember, life is brief
Mine to me. Its own to each is dear.
Theodred was left speechless as she finished the song. One could say that she had him bewitched, under a spell. At that moment, he desired her for his wife. His father had sent him here, quite against his will, to see if this foster daughter of the Steward was satisfactory for a wife, as her connections and background were excellent—tied to both Gondor and Amroth. He had come quite grudgingly, feeling that his father was using him as a tool, but as he laid his eyes upon the Maiden of Stars, and heard her voice fade into the night, he felt that wedding this Southern Lady would be a blessing, not a curse, as he had presupposed.
For the rest of the night, Elentari was unable to do what she desired, to find Faramir. She spent most of the night with Theodred, occasionally with Boromir, but whenever she found a spare moment and made her way to seek Faramir, it seemed to her that someone else turned up to apprehend her, with Denethor standing not too far away. She was called to sing by the minstrels a few times, and she performed outstandingly, but without Faramir's lyre and vocals, her fiddle and song did not resonate as it once did, and her heart was not into her singing.
Finally, as it neared midnight, when most everyone was drunk on mead and ale, especially Boromir, she slipped away. Faramir was not in his room, nor was he in the library, where he usually was. She thought of all the possible places he could be quickly, knowing that her time was limited. They would soon notice that she was gone, the pinnacle of attention, and would seek her. Denethor would know exactly where she had gone, and would not be happy. She ventured light-footedly into the gardens, hoping to see Faramir there, and lo! Her wish was granted. He was there, bathing in the moonlight, singing a soft song of mourning to himself.
"Why such mourning, melda?" she asked. Seeing she was there, he turned away, which caused her to frown, and move closer to him. She touched his shoulder, but he drew away.
"Faramir, mana usahtië*?" she breathed confused, not knowing why he turned from her.
"Le nyarin inye, herinya*," he replied bitterly, referring to her by her title.
"If you have cause to be angry with me, if I have done you wrong, please tell me what it is," she pleaded.
"Why don't you ask that prince of Rohan?" he snapped. Suddenly, with those words, she understood.
"Faramir, I merely played my part. He is a fine man, but in my eyes, no one can rival you. I was doing my duty," her words were lost as he snapped, "Don't talk to me about duty! I know what duty is. Duty is doing what you're told. Duty is doing whatever your Lord commands, though he is an insane, heartless man. Duty is giving up what you love. Duty is selling yourself for your country, to men who would love to have you in their bed each night--"
"Faramir! Let not anger color your words into those you shall regret," she barked the reprimand, her eyes flashing in fury. Seeing that, Faramir knew he had gone too far, to arouse her gentle temper.
"My apologies. I did not mean that. You're right. I let my anger get the best of me," Faramir apologized. Elentari's fiery gaze softened as she saw the lines of wear and sorrow on his face and she reached up to caress it.
"You know that I would never leave you by choice, Faramir. If Father intends to marry me off, he will deliver nothing to the groom but my body. My spirit and soul shall long stay with you, or find the halls of Mandos," she declared, not knowing the weight that these words would later carry.
"Faramir, come back inside. It's cold out here, and I cannot linger here for long. Father will send someone to look for me." Faramir allowed her to lead him back into the Hall, to the jubilant masses of people, some eating, some drinking, most talking, and many dancing.
"There you are!" Araniel said, "Can I finally get the introduction?"
"Oh. Um, Faramir, this is Araniel of Amroth. I told you about her," she introduced, and Faramir nodded politely, "And Araniel, of course this is Faramir."
"Finally! You know how irritating it is to hear about you every minute of every day? She talks of nothing but you!" Araniel complained. Faramir smiled at the younger girl and said, "Oh. So what does she say of me?"
Araniel looked mischievous and Elentari quickly intervened, clearing her throat, "That information is not needed at the time. Araniel, don't make me agree with your brother about your conversational habits." Araniel pouted for a moment, but then that optimistic energy took over again.
"Come, dance with me," Faramir wrapped one arm around Elentari's waist, and the other took her hand. As they swept through the hall, everyone looked on, with mixed opinions. Boromir laughed, and murmured to himself, "It's about time. I was wondering when they were going to show themselves together."
Theodred, Anarahil, and many other prospective suitors frowned a bit, but dismissed their relationship as strictly brother-sister. They were fools to think that, as it was evident to anyone paying any attention that these two were in love. Their eyes shone as they looked upon another and their bodies moved across the floor as one. Denethor scowled, his face turning a deep shade of red. Everything had worked out so flawlessly until now. That younger son of his was not going to ruin everything he had planned.
"I love you," he whispered into her ear as they danced, her feet beneath the dress matching with his booted ones. She did not answer, but kissed him on the cheek, which caused a murmur through the crowd. Denethor's neck turned a deep shade of purple and before the song even came to an end, he stood up, and called, "I am afraid that this is it for tonight, as we are holding a jousting tournament tomorrow, and we would not want the gentlemen to be too tired to fight for the lady's favor." Slowly, one by one, everyone went to their assigned guest rooms, and filled the Citadel. Denethor however, followed Elentari, and as they both entered her room, shut the door behind him.
Elentari stood, her back to him, by her window, waiting for his blowing words.
"Elentari. For most of the night, you were wonderful, social, and entertaining. I can even condone the dance with Faramir, but that kiss? Do you not remember what I said about any color or blemish on your name would utterly destroy your chances of marriage? That was one of them! Luckily, the rumors have not reached these people."
"Father, it was merely a dance with Faramir. It could have been a kiss on Boromir's cheek, or even Theodred's," she defended herself.
"Men do not look fondly upon women who flaunt and flirt with other men," Denethor snapped.
"But wasn't this whole celebration held so men could see me, and you yourself said that I must be entertaining and charming to all," she argued.
At this, Denethor's already magenta face turned a shade deeper, "Elentari. Tomorrow, in the tournament, you will obey me." With that, he turned and stalked out.
*mana usahtië?: What is wrong?
*Le nyarin inye, herinya: You tell me, my Lady.