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Chapter 14: Time Passes
Ellethwen sighed as she closed her eyes. It seemed as though her and Boromir's child was draining her energy, and if her and Gelsey's calculations were right she was nearing fifteen weeks along, and the small mound that was present gave away that she was with child. She put her hand over the small mound and opened her eyes as she looked out the window of her chamber it was the eve of October twenty-fourth and she figured that Boromir should have made it to Rivendell by now, and she hoped he was safe. As she thought of him, a small flutter in her stomach made her smile and she looked down at her hand.
She started to feel the slight movements of their baby the day before and it was a strange but wonderful feeling. Ellethwen looked out the window once more and found herself wondering just what Boromir was doing that moment, and when he would return to her.
Boromir walked through the quiet open corridors of Rivendell. The city was beautiful, and earlier out of the corner of his eye he had seen a woman with long dark hair moving gracefully and he through for a second that it was Ellethwen, but when he had turned and looked at the woman fully, it was not.
He came upon an area with the painting of Isildur cutting the One Ring from Sauron's hand and he looked at it amazed. He sensed someone else in the area with him and looked over his left shoulder to see a man with long dark hair reading a book.
"You are no elf," Boromir said as he turned to face the man. The man lowered his book and bowed his head.
"The Men of the South are welcomed here," the man said. Boromir nodded.
"Who are you?" The man regarded him for a moment and put his book in his lap.
"I am a friend to Gandalf the Grey," the man said avoiding Boromir's question directly. Boromir nodded and stepped away from the wall.
"Then we are here on a common purpose," Boromir paused and smiled at the man, "friend." He looked away from the man and at a shine of a woman. The statue held a tray where on top of a silken cloth rested broken pieces of a blade, a blade that Boromir knew the history of very well. He picked up the hilt of the sword and looked at the jagged blade. "The shards of Narsil! The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand!" he said quietly to himself, slightly amazed. He ran his finger along the blade and jumped slightly as pain filled his finger. He looked at it surprised to see blood there. "It's still sharp." He looked to the other man who looked at him curiously. Boromir sighed. "But no more than a broken heirloom," he said as he carelessly put the sword back onto the tray only to have it clatter to the ground. He turned but stopped.
Boromir could hear Ellethwen's voice telling him to pick up the blade and return it too its rightful place, but the stranger made him uneasy and he moved away quickly without looking back.
Ellethwen laughed as she helped Brengol tend to the horses, Éowyn did not require her for much anymore and so Ellethwen tended to help the others with the other chores of the city. The old man looked at her from over the top of Éowyn's horse as they both brushed the brown steed. "I've noticed you seem different, Ellethwen," Brengol said and Ellethwen looked at him. "Ever since that man came, you seem happier." Ellethwen smiled.
"I have my reasons, Brengol, for that man is now my husband," she said and Brengol looked at her surprised. "He was a man of Gondor, a man that I loved and he loved me in return before I left Gondor. He promised me he would come for me and marry me one day, and he held true to that promise." Brengol smiled and nodded his head.
"Very well indeed," he said with a slight laugh. "And here most of us that you were a spinster." Ellethwen laughed.
"No not a spinster, just a woman that was waiting for her love and he came." Brengol smiled and nodded his head.
"All right, enough chatting, much to do today," he said before he picked up the bucket of feed and moved from the stall. Ellethwen smiled and shook her head. Brengol was still a mystery to her, but he was a kind man, strange, but kind all the same.
Boromir sat in between other men he did not know, but among the council sat elves, Mithrandir, dwarves, and a small child, but when Boromir looked at the child more closely he saw that he was no child. Elrond stood and all eyes turned to the elf.
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate--this one doom," Elrond said and Boromir's heart felt heavy as he once again twirled the ring on his left ring finger. Elrond gestured to the pedestal before him and looked to the small man that sat next to Mithrandir. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." The man stood and slowly walked over to the pedestal where he sat a gold ring upon it. A voice filled Boromir's ears as he looked at it and he brought his hand to his face and rubbed his chin.
"So it is true," he said quietly. The hiss like voice spoke slowly to him, and talked of things he had longed wanted. The restoration of Gondor and Minas Tirith, but what frightened him was another voice, one he knew all to well.
"I love you," Ellethwen's voice overpowered the voice of the Ring.
"And I you, more than anything or anyone I have loved before," he heard his own voice say the words he said to her.
"More than the White City?" Ellethwen had asked, with such a fear in her tone that he cared more for Gondor than her.
"More than the White City, more than all of Gondor, and I will return to you, Ellethwen." Boromir closed his eyes and shook his head. The hissing voice called once more and he opened his eyes as he slowly stood. "It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" he asked. He started to pace. Part of him knew that what he was saying wasn't true, but another part was winning out. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"
"That is not what you want. If it is, my love, you will be taken from me," Ellethwen's voice echoed but he ignored it.
"You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master," the man from the night before said. Boromir looked at him with accusation in his eyes.
"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked sharply. Suddenly, an elf that was seated, not far from where Boromir stood, stood from his seat.
"This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance," the elf said and Boromir looked at the ranger with surprise.
"Aragorn? This... is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked.
"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the elf said.
"Havo dad, Legolas," Aragorn said and the elf slowly sat down. Boromir looked to Aragorn with distain.
"What he said is true; you can feel it can't you?" Ellethwen's voice told him calmly. "He is our king." Boromir scoffed and shook his head.
"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king," Boromir said before he sat down but, he knew what he said was not true.
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it," Mithrandir said and Boromir sighed.
"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed," Lord Elrond said. Boromir shook his head but a part of him knew it had to be.
"You're dresses are too tight now," Éowyn said as she smoothed her hand over the small mound of Ellethwen's stomach.
"I know," Ellethwen said with a smile. "I have a few dresses with a lose waists so, I believe I must start wearing those." Éowyn nodded as she stepped away and put another log on the fire.
"It's chilly already and it's only the third of November," Éowyn said and Ellethwen toyed with the ring on her finger.
"Yes, and no word from Boromir," Ellethwen said with a sigh. Éowyn turned and looked at her friend with a sad smile.
"I am sure he is fine," Éowyn said.
"I hope so, I really hope so," she said quietly before she walked over to the window and looked out across the plains as her hand instantly moved to the fluttering in her stomach.