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Wyniel had no other dream like that nightmare for the next few months, and she had almost forgotten about it.
The five nobles now ate dinner in the Hall at a new table. It was made longer on the sides to fit a mother and her child side by side. Wyniel mashed the peas and carrots on Ecthelion's plate. The child was growing fast, and regular visits to the Houses of Healing assured that he was very healthy and strong. He was the pride in Boromir, even stronger than Minas Tirith, and lived deep in his heart. Wyniel found it hard to be separated from her child, but was overjoyed when she saw the pleasure Ecthelion took in playing with his uncle, Faramir.
Denethor could be seen staring at the child from time to time, making little faces when Ecthelion smiled or giggled, almost smiling himself. He was mostly downcast, however, and had darkened when told the child's name.
"He's only jealous that grandfather couldn't spend all his time with him." Boromir assured Wyniel, who was sure that Denethor hated the baby. "He wanted to be loved more than anything, and grandfather only had so much to give."
"Wouldn't someone say the same about Faramir?" Wyniel protested. The couple were back in their suite, putting the baby to bed.
Boromir didn't say anything, knowing that Wyniel was right.
At one year old, Ecthelion was showing much interest in walking. Faramir had recently been training with the Rangers full time, but whenever he went home he was sure to look in upon Wyniel and Ecthelion, the former holding the child's hands as he waddled from one side of a carpet to the other.
Boromir always found the time to check in on the two during the day. Ecthelion would laugh and clap his hands in delight when his father's whiskers tickled his cheek when he kissed him, which made Boromir smile wide.
"I wish we could take him to the sea." Wyniel expressed one day at lunch. Boromir nodded and gazed at the horizon. He could see the dozens of horses arrayed on the Pellenor, grazing lazily until their masters came back from their own lunch. Ecthelion played with the laces of Boromir's boots, pulling on them for balance, now and then falling forward and hugging the muddied leather. Wyniel gasped and clutched the baby, brushing the dirt from his gown as he giggled.
Boromir laughed as he stood. "I must go now, but it won't be long until dinner." and he kissed both of their foreheads before striding out the door.
Wyniel bounced the baby on her lap, saying softly:
"You'd like the sea. It's beautiful." and then gazing Eastward, toward Osgiliath. "The river might please you. It's cool, and running with bright red leaves this time of year. Would you like to see it?"