I don't own LotR
For two days Wyniel refused to eat. She sat in a cushioned chair by a window and stared at Ecthelion, cleaned and dressed in his crib. When she nodded off to sleep, the vision of the orc and her stuck baby appeared. She would wake suddenly, thinking it was all a dream, but upon reaching for her child would find that he was still, pale, and cold.
Boromir watched this from nearby. He would occasionally touch his wife's shoulder, but she gave no reaction.
Finally, on the third day, Ecthelion's funeral was to take place. The city had put up nothing but black flags, and women wept for the lost child, so innocent! Boromir, who had also very little sleep, crept to his weeping wife and kneeled before her.
"We must put him to rest." Boromir choked back his own tears.
Wyniel, after a time, shot him a glance of pure sorrow. She stared for a few moments, then spoke:
"I'm sorry, Boromir. I've killed our son."
"No," Boromir rubbed her arm. "It was an accident. Wyniel, nobody is to blame." Wyniel couldn't believe this; she only shook her head. Boromir continued. "If anyone should take responsibility, it should be me." Wyniel looked up. "I told you it was safe to go out there."
There was silence until Wyniel took Boromir in her arms and whispered:
"It's not your fault."
A couple minutes slipped by until Boromir lifted Wyniel. "We have to ready. Our son deserves the honor of our pity." he said. Wyniel only nodded, wiped her eyes, and began to dress.