A/N: I got mixed reviews for the last chapter. There were four who loved it, with one saying that it was her favorite so far, and two who, like me, didn't think it was as great. Hopefully this next chapter satisfies all six of you!
These chapters are going to take a little longer to update, because of my bloody school. I'm making them a bit longer though, which hopefully will make you guys happier!
Unicorn: Thanks for the support... Bloody school!
Nayana: I'm glad you loved the last one. Hopefully this one is just as good!
Shallindra: ::shakes head:: you like Boromir more than Faramir. How dare thee! O well. He's MINE!
Elanor-G: I'm very sorry Elanor, but the child is Theodred's... Haha. I'm glad you think just like Elentari, wishing the child could be Faramir's. Don't we all? Pity this is a tragedy.
Roisin Dubh: You seriously have it in for both Grima AND Denethor. Thanks for always giving me reviews that are truthful, inspirational, and I can use for future reference.
Thanks for reviewing! Keep up the great feedback!
Chapter 39: Leaves of autumn
Elentari tossed and turned in her bed, sleep eluding her once again, as she struggled to find a comfortable-enough position for her to actually be able to relax. This baby was making it frustratingly hard to be comfortable, especially at night. Irritated, she glanced out her window, to see Lady Varda's stars accompanying Tilion in his nightly repose. Beside her, Theodred seemed not to notice, in his peaceful slumber she so desired, her unease and movement.
Eowyn had noted that she had become much more irritable in the past few days; she would not be if she was able to rest! She had finally stopped retching in the morning, but now the stomach pains were getting persistently worse. The midwives had told her it was merely a hard carriage, and that a hard carriage led to an easier delivery. The healers suggested that she walk every day, but how could she when she was tired all the time? And where was the rider who had been dispatched to Gondor? He should be back by now, and she wanted nothing better but to hear the news from her brothers, however bitter their reactions may be. Boromir, she imagined, would be overjoyed, and if he were here, would be teasing her about her expanding belly and her inability to swordfight. Theoden had forbidden her to do anything that would harm the child, and swords were definitely out of the question. Denethor--how would Denethor react? He would wish her well, of course, but no one ever knew what was behind that icy façade of the man. He would remind himself that both of his sons were unmarried, and would make it a point to change that. That thought made the image of Faramir appear so sharply in Elentari's mind she almost cried out. She buried her face in her hands. Faramir, if she had known how much loving him would hurt him, she would have died with her mother that day more than a score of years ago. She groaned aloud, not only thinking of him being tormented by Denethor about her pregnancy, but at that moment, her child gave a violent kick.
"Elentari?" she heard her husband groan beside her as he awoke, and struggled to lift himself upon his elbow.
"It is nothing," she snapped, "Go sleep," the bitterness in her voice was evident, which made him even more concerned.
"You are not sleeping," he observed, as her red eyes and the dark circles beneath them were evident.
"Is that not apparent?" she bit back dryly.
"What's wrong Elentari?" he asked, concerned.
She sighed heavily, and turned her head towards him, "Your child is not allowing his mother any rest." She laid a hand upon her belly, "And I cannot get comfortable. Any way I lay, there is always a great weight upon me. I cannot sleep," she confessed.
Tenderly, he covered her hand with his, "It can't be too horrible, for if it were, no woman would carry a child."
"Do we have a choice?" she questioned tiredly, "The women tell me it is merely a hard carriage, and that it will lead to an easier birth. I don't believe them."
He laced his fingers through hers, and brought her hand up to his lips, "Not all are like the advisors in Father's halls."
She grimaced visibly, as the baby kicked her, and gripped Theodred's hand, "Ai, little one," she whispered, "Why are you so eager to join this cruel world?"
Theodred shifted himself, and put his head on her belly, "Your time will come, my child. Let your mother rest now, so she can bring you forth."
"This is the one time I shall not be angry that he listens to his father before his mother," Elentari murmured as she settled in Theodred's arms.
"Elentari!" Eowyn flew through the door, "The rider has returned! From Gondor!"
Elentari's eyes darted up from the parchment she was writing on, and as quick as she could, with her burden, got up to follow Eowyn.
The rider was standing, in front of Theoden's chair, in the Great Hall. He bowed his head as they entered, "My Lady. I bring congratulations and good tidings from your family in Gondor."
Elentari's heart dropped, as she saw no one with the rider. What was she thinking? Denethor could not spare his sons in these times of peril. Besides, she was glad, in her mournful sense that Faramir was not here. She knew she could not handle that.
"Along with their good wishes," the rider added, "Lord Denethor saw fit to send, a very large gift, as well," his eyes left her face, darting past her.
Elentari furrowed her eyebrows, but turned around, only to be swept up in a longed for, familiar embrace.
"Boromir!!!" she screamed, Meduseld echoing her glee.
"I take it you missed me, little sister!" he breathed into her hair.
"What are you doing here, Boromir?" she finally asked, her eyes dancing.
Boromir shook his head, "That has not changed. You still ask questions to which the answers are right in front of you. I'm here to see you of course. Father and Faramir send their best, and they both wish they could be here," his eyes grew serious at the mention of Faramir, as Elentari looked away.
"How are they?" But Boromir knew that she meant, 'How is he?'
"Missing you," he put it simply, and he spoke no falsehood, "Have you forgotten your manners, Elentari?" he added, to bring Elentari back to the present, "What have we taught you all these years? Introductions, if you please," he motioned towards Eowyn, standing a ways off.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Yes. Eowyn, this is Boromir, and do not tell him anything I have told you about him. Boromir, this is Eowyn."
Boromir's eyes narrowed, "She has told you stories about me, has she?"
"Not as often as she has of Faramir," Eowyn replied. Boromir could not catch Elentari's eyes at this.
"Theodred is out at the moment, inspecting his eored, or so he told me," Elentari said, "He will be happy to see you."
"Not as happy as he will be to see his growing child," Boromir replied, grinning, "My little sister is not so small anymore, and I mean that in more than one way."
Elentari's lips turned down into a pout, but she did not answer, for Theoden had entered.
"My Lord," she bowed, "My brother is here."
"King Theoden," Boromir greeted.
"Lord Boromir," Theoden replied, his eyes scanning the valiant Gondorian, "These halls are ringing with tales of your valor, as well as you in your childhood."
Boromir threw Elentari a dirty look, "May another child's tale be written within these walls," as Elentari blushed, smiling bashfully.
"Well said," Theoden replied, "Please. Refresh and rest yourself." He called the rider to him, and then addressed Boromir once more, "I hope you can condone my absence, but there are some pressing matters at hand. I know your sister and my niece will provide you with anything you wish."
"Thank you," Boromir returned, and as soon as Theoden disappeared into his council chambers, he turned back to his sister, "So, I see I shall become an uncle soon."
Elentari flushed scarlet, and joked, "Do not give yourself the honor."
Boromir's hand flew to his heart, and he staggered back, a look of mock pain shooting across his face, "I, who practically raised you, who taught you all that you know, do not deserve being your child's uncle?"
Elentari laughed heartily, "You taught me all I know? Well my dear brother, who was the fourth ruler of Numenor?"
Boromir did not even pretend to know, "Must you?" Elentari nodded, giggling.
"What will you name the child?"
"Everyone seems to ask that question," Eowyn ventured, though she had been quiet for the past few minutes, carefully observing the brother and sister.
Elentari smiled, "Yes, and it is the one matter we have not decided upon. I have a few names in mind for him, but Theodred differs in opinion, and has it in his mind to let King Theoden name him."
"Him?" Boromir grinned, "Another valiant boy. He must come to Gondor so I can train him in the arts of war."
Eowyn's eyes flamed at this, "Think you, that Rohan does not have warriors as well?" her proud head rising as her eyes met his daringly.
Boromir raised both of his hands, as if surrendering to her, "I meant no offense, my Lady. I only meant it to Elentari as a personal jest."
"My brother does not have a way with words, Eowyn," Elentari defended gently, "Please do not take offense to anything he says." Turning back to Boromir, "I do not want my son to be like you, Boromir; delighting in arms and nothing else."
"You forget ale and wenches," Boromir pointed out, which caused Elentari to shake her head fervently, "This is when I really miss Faramir."
Boromir's eyes grew serious, though he was still grinning, "He sends his greetings and well wishes, as well." Eowyn noticed how carefully Boromir chose his words, and the effect they had on Elentari. She swallowed, trying to be inconspicuous, and then closed her eyes slowly, uttering a heavy sigh, "How is he?"
"Father wanted to send him here, but he passed the honor on to me," Boromir eyed Eowyn warily, for he knew he could not speak freely in front of her. He was just about to continue when the great doors of Meduseld clanged open, and in strode Theodred, removing his helmet from his golden head.
"Theodred!" Both Elentari and Eowyn cried out.
Throwing his helmet aside, he rushed toward his wife and sister, embracing first Elentari, then Eowyn, and then returning to his wife, kissing her.
"I see we have company," Theodred grinned, "Welcome Boromir. It is good to see you after so many seasons."
Boromir beamed, "And you. I came to congratulate you, and to check if you are treating my sister civilly."
"Has she complained?" Theodred asked, throwing a teasing glance to Elentari, who giggled.
Boromir too, glanced mischievously at his sister, "Oh yes. I've heard nothing but complaints," he put on a whining, high-pitched voice, "Theodred treats me horribly. He's a deplorable husband. Take me back to Gondor."
"Boromir!" she slapped him playfully on the shoulder.
Theodred looked shocked, and turned towards his wife, with all he could manage of a solemn glare, "You have wounded me deeply, Elentari. I have done nothing but love you, and this is what I receive in return?"
"Why is it that whenever there is another man, you always side with him against me? Last week it was Elfhelm. Now it is Boromir," Elentari pouted, her lips pressed like a little child being denied a treat.
"To see that look upon your face, love," he kissed her forehead. The couple nuzzled each other for a moment, before remembering there were others in their company.
"My Lord," Theodred looked up from his wife's face, seeing Halas there, looking quite abashed for interrupting, "The men wish to know if you will attend our meeting."
"Ah yes," Theodred did not look very happy, but nodded, "I'm coming." Turning back to Boromir, Eowyn, and Elentari, "Forgive me. My men call me. There are pressing matters at hand."
"Of course, Theodred," Elentari said, though it was in her eyes that she was sorry to see her husband go, "Greetings, Halas."
"My Lady," he bowed, "My apologies for taking Theodred away."
She smiled ruefully, "Mayhap I should ride in your eored, while you stay and tend to the house, Halas. You spend more time with Theodred than I." Only Boromir fully knew how bitter her heart was when she spat out these words.
Halas grinned, "I'm afraid Meduseld would not stand long if I ruled the house, my Lady. My mother tells me I cannot even thread a needle. Perhaps if you would teach me, my Lady, yet my mother says it is hopeless. Some other day perhaps, for we have to go now." He and Theodred bade Eowyn and Boromir farewell, and made out. Eowyn muttered some excuse, something about her sewing, which Elentari knew she hated, and skittered away.
"I need air," Elentari muttered, as she grabbed a shawl and she and Boromir went out. "The healers won't let me go anywhere without this infernal thing," she said through clenched teeth as she wrapped her shawl around her.
"You seem happy here," Boromir observed.
Elentari sighed, "Content, not happy."
"He adores you," he pointed out.
"I am fortunate to have him," she replied, her eyes trailing the falling leaves as they were swept away by the autumn breeze.
Boromir stopped walking, and turned to face her, "Do you love him?" He looked her in the eye.
She followed the fading leaves, flaunting their last moments of colorful splendor before passing away, "Yes," after some heavy thought, "I do. No woman could live with him and not learn to love him. Yet I do not love, nor will I any man, the way I love Faramir. I have not forgotten him, nor has my love for him faded. Time however, has a mysterious way about her. She has eased my passion for now, but not my longing and love for him. Yet I cannot think of him now. Theodred is too good to me, and I cannot let my child be marred by her mother's passions."
Boromir did not answer for a moment, then said, in a serious voice, "You've grown up, selernya." my sister
"How I wish I had not," she replied ruefully, "Can we rest for a moment?" she sat on the nearest bench, covered with a mass of fallen oranges, crimsons, and golden leaves.
After a moment of awkward silence, Elentari laughed, "Faramir always loved the clove of seasons. He said it was going from one thing to the next, but the period of change between is the most beautiful. I never agreed with him."
"Why?" Boromir was curious to know.
She looked pensive, "I always felt that it was the end; the end of a season, the end of life. Autumn is the fleeting last moments of life, the last dance of these leaves. There is something hauntingly sweet about them as their colors change, from the vibrant green foliage filled with life, to the fading gold, vermilion, and crimsons that they take to as their last moments of colorful splendor before passing away. Sometimes I feel people are this way as well. Many who take their leave from this world enjoy a burst of happiness, or splendor, before they are snatched away by Mandos."
There was something eerie about her words that Boromir could not quite place, and he did agree with them, though he liked Faramir's view more. He could not have known then that her words would come to haunt him.
Yet for the moment, he only said, "Listen to you, Elentari, talking about death when you carry the very essence of life within you. It's not good for the child for you to be thinking this way." He reached into his pocket, "Imrahil sends his greetings, and that one lass, Araniel, was that her name, made me bring you something." He opened his hand to reveal two perfectly shaped seashells glistening both ivory and pink in the late autumn sun.
Elentari gasped, and her eyes grew tender at the little shapes before her. She reached out a hand unsteadily, to finger one of them, until gently picking them up. Boromir never understood what she saw in these things, but added, "She told me to tell you that they carry the very sounds of the Sea within them. She made me swear to tell you that, and to instruct you to hold them to your ear."
Nodding, Elentari did so, and Boromir could never forget the look of uttermost content and bliss dawn across her face. Softly, she murmured, "Yes, I hear you, Lady Uinen."
Boromir was puzzled. He had never seen such a blissful look upon her face even when she was with Faramir, nor at any other time. Faramir said that she loved the Sea beyond all else in life, and she often sang of it, and of Lady Uinen, and Olmë, but he never knew the extent of her love.
Tenderly, she tucked the shells into her pocket, often straying her hand to them afterwards, and looked up placidly at Boromir.
"I miss them," she admitted simply as she leaned her head against his shoulder, as she had done countless times before in all those years.
"We all miss you," though Boromir knew she was speaking of the Sea more than the people. He draped his arm around her, and she snuggled close to him, and Boromir felt that things were right in the world once more, though this time, she took up more room than she usually did.
"I wish we could stay this way forever," he murmured.
She smiled, "You would miss the battle too much."
He laughed, "I would give even that up for you, little sister."
"I love you brother." Boromir never felt so content. There was a time when sitting like this, leaning against each other, the breeze whispering into their ears, was something Boromir never even thought about, but now, more than a year since he last did this, he wished they would never part.
A/N: Hope you liked it, and hoped someone caught onto the foreshadowing! Please review!