Hebo Estel
Chapter Two: A Talk with the Cook
A/N: Well, here's the second chapter. I hope you all like it! I would really love to hear what you all think, so please, review!
In the kitchen, Delyth was glad to see that her absence hadn't been yet noticed, because there were many other sisters to do her work. Delyth was the second eldest daughter of the cook, and she had five sisters and two brothers, who were too young to do any work yet. They were the youngest, and they were twins. Delyth's older sister, Eirien, was her only confidant; the two were very close.
Delyth thanked her sisters quietly for covering for her, and took her place next to Eirien chopping vegetables to dry for later consumption.
"You were out all night again, Delyth," Eirien whispered. "You must stop this. The women are beginning to gossip. If word reached Father's ears about your nightly escapades, you would be punished in ways you cannot imagine."
Delyth was only half-listening as her elder sister scolded her. She was looking wistfully into the glowing embers of the massive kitchen fire, wishing she were a noblewoman so she wouldn't have to hide her love for the Steward's son.
Only Eirien knew how Boromir and Delyth loved each other, and she was hard pressed to keep it a secret. Eirien had long held the position of woman of the family, ever since the children's mother had died while birthing the twins. They had all mourned for a very long time, but they soon realized that life must, and does, go on. So Eirien saw herself as Delyth's protector, and she did the best she could to keep all of her younger siblings out of trouble.
"Delyth, are you listening to a word I'm saying?"
"Mmm?" Delyth looked up from the fire and saw that Eirien was nearly red in the face with anger. "I'm sorry, sister. I'm just worried about him. He's leaving for Rivendell later today, and I sense something horrible is going to befall him." Always, in the presence of others, the sisters had wisely refrained from using the captain's true name, so that no one would overhear.
Eirien's expression went soft, and she ran her hand through her sister's thick, wavy hair that was identical to her own hair, and the hair of all of her sisters. "I'm sorry. I forgot that he was leaving today," she said, comforting her sister. "Fret not, dear one. I am positive that your man will return."
Delyth turned a tear-stained face to her sister. "He is going to tell his father today. He said that when he returns we will marry under the white tree."
Eirien gasped and stared at Delyth. "That's wonderful news, sister! You will be the wife of the Steward! Your sons will rule over Gondor!"
Delyth nodded thoughtfully. "I am still worried, however. I'm not sure how Lord Denethor will take this news. Boromir is the favored son, after all. What if the Steward won't let us marry? What then, Eirien?" Delyth instantly chastised herself for speaking her lover's name in a room full of people who could hear her.
"I suppose then…" Eirien was cut off as their father, the cook, approached them.
"How goes it, daughters?" he asked in his booming voice.
"Good, Father," they simultaneously replied.
"Good, good," he muttered, stroking his whitened beard. After a moment, he said, "Delyth, may I speak with you for a moment?"
Delyth's stomach lurched, but she followed her father out of the kitchen nonetheless. He led her to a small closet across the hall, where the servants kept jars of preserves and any surplus foods. It was very chilly in the small room, but once the great oaken door was closed tight, it was very private.
"Boromir leaves today, daughter," the cook began, seating himself on a barrel. "What will you choose to do?"
Blood rushed to Delyth's face, and she realized sadly that she was found out. "How do you know, father?"
"I have many daughters, but I keep a nose in all of their doings. I am not so ignorant as you might think."
"I am sorry for my deception, father. Boromir and I thought it would be best if we kept it a secret."
The cook sighed and took his daughter's hand in his. "I must admit, it does sadden me that you would keep such a thing from your own father. But I understand your reasoning, and I respect your privacy. I know you did not choose to fall in love with him. Love chooses its victim, always. Never the other way around. I understand your plight, and I want only to help you."
Delyth sighed with relief. It felt at that moment as if a great weight had lifted off of her chest. "Thank you, dear father!" she cried, hugging her father tightly. "I am so glad you are not upset with me!"
He laughed. "I could never be upset with you for too long, because you are most like your mother, and I could never be angry at her."
This made Delyth sad. Hearing of her mother always brought tears to her eyes, for the grief was still very near to her. It had been only three years since her mother passed on, and Delyth still thought of her every day.
"Father, I am worried about what the Steward will do. We want to marry, but he may think me too common for his great son."
The cook looked sadly at his daughter, and sighed at her great beauty. "I don't know what will happen, but you have my blessing for the wedding." He kissed Delyth's brow, and then said, "Come, it is near the time you must serve breakfast. We wouldn't want to upset Lord Denethor today, would we?"
Delyth smiled and followed her father back to the kitchen.
A/N: The offer from the last chapter is still on the table. E-mail me! Also, review, whether you liked this story or not. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing!