Hebo Estel

Chapter Three: The Morning Meal

A/N: Well, at this point, it doesn't look like you lovely readers want me to continue with this one. But I have already written quite a few chapters, so it is only a simple matter of postingthis up here. I hope I get more reviews this time around!

Wally:That's nice that you don't think highly of this. But could you please give me a reason why you think this is "lame?" Does it have gramatical errors? Spelling errors? Is it too fake? Or is thisjust not your genre? I would definately like it if you couldsomehow get back to me about this.

Cindy: Thanks for the tip. I admit, I'm not a big fan of grammar.I just like to write. Lol. I wasn't a big fan of Boromir's when Istarted this, but Ithink I'm starting to come around now! I would LOVE it if you would continue to read this and give me some more tips. Heaven knows I need them!

As always, please remember to REVIEW whether you like this or not. AndI would also like to hear why you didor did not like this story. Thanks!

In the mornings, the Lord and Steward of Gondor took his meals on a table in the throne room, near a window that overlooked the courtyard with the white tree. Usually, his sons ate with him unless they were gone on some important mission. This morning was no exception. Boromir was to leave later that day, just after the noon bell rang. So he was present for the morning meal, along with his younger brother, Faramir, who looked quite upset.

It was the job of Delyth and Eirien to serve the food, with the occasional help of a few of their younger sisters. Delyth took up a large plate of assorted fruits and carried it across the large room to the table. She and Boromir had learned not to look at each other when she served him, so as not to arouse suspicions. It took all of her will not to gaze into her lover's eyes as she set the plate down near him. As she turned, she thought she felt his hand brush hers, but she could have imagined it. Eirien winked at her as they passed each other, and Delyth smiled back.

"More milk, please, maiden! I thirst for something other than wine this morn!" cried Denethor, holding his goblet up in the air. Delyth was used to such requests, and she hurried to grab a large pitcher of milk from a tray on the other side of the room.

Delyth could sense Boromir's eyes boring into her as she poured the Steward his drink. "I'll have some of that, maiden," he said softly, holding an apple slice in his gloved hand. Delyth nodded obediently, and continued to fill his cup with milk.

Delyth scurried across the room to stand next to her sister and await any more orders. From where she stood, she could clearly hear any conversation that went on between Lord Denethor and his sons.

"Father, let me go to Rivendell," Faramir pleaded suddenly. "It is more right that I should go, because you need Boromir here."

Denethor sighed deeply and set his glass back down upon the table after drinking from it. "Faramir, you are not going. Boromir is going. This is a task for a future steward, not a silly young lad. You have no idea what is happening here. The dark lord is yet alive, and it was his own forces that attacked Osgiliath, and if it weren't for your brother, they would have taken it entirely. If it weren't for you, it would still be standing! Boromir must travel to Rivendell for answers and counsel in these dark times!"

"Father, I know all of these things of which you speak. I understand what is happening in our world. Also, I know that you need Boromir here to defend Osgiliath. Let me go in his stead."

"I think not!" Denethor's voice boomed across the hall. "I will only let Boromir go. It is only he that I trust to go, and return with news. Only he would not fail me."

Faramir winced. Delyth could easily tell that the conversation pained him very much. "If you only gave me a chance to prove my worth, Father. I would show you that I am capable of many things."

"You had your chance, Faramir, at Osgiliath. And you failed me. You gave up the city freely to our mortal enemies."

Boromir looked angry. "Father, Faramir was overrun. He needed more men. The victory does not belong to me alone."

Denethor dismissed the matter with a firm shake of his head. "Boromir is going, and that is final. Boromir, please come meet with me in my study when you have finished your meal. I have important matters to discuss with you." The old Steward ambled away from the table, clearly upset.

Faramir sighed. "When will he ever realize Osgiliath wasn't my fault?"

Boromir reached over and rested a hand on his brother's golden brown hair. "I know it wasn't, brother. I understand. I don't want to go to Rivendell, but it is my duty, and it is your duty to stay here and guard our lands. I will be back soon, and I can help you perfect your shot."

Faramir laughed, merry once again. "My shot is already perfected, bother," he said, standing up. "It is your shot that could use a little help." The brothers shared a few words, and then Faramir left, leaving Boromir alone at the table. He rested his head in his hands and heaved a great sigh.

Delyth motioned for her sister to leave, and as soon as she was certain the room was empty, she ran to Boromir's side.

"My love, are you well?" she asked, kneeling on the floor next to his chair. She rested her hand on the back of his neck.

"I am not well, Delyth. My brother's pride is injured, my father is upset, and I have to leave you, my only light in this dark world."

Delyth was shocked to see his faced was streaked with tears. She promptly pulled out her handkerchief and wiped them away. "Boromir, son of Denethor, heir to the Steward's throne, you are a captain of Gondor, brave and wise. Shed no tears. We will get through these dark times, and live to see our children grow old." Delyth did not believe these things to be true, for in her heart she sensed great peril ahead for her lover. But she would not burden him even more with her silly worries.

Boromir looked sadly into her eyes, and marveled at their dark beauty. "You are so… perfect," he grinned. They kissed, oblivious to the fact that Lord Denethor was watching.

A/N: For the conversation between the Steward and his sons, I mostly used lines and ideas from the scene in the extended version of the Two Towers. I also tried to stay loyal to the book in the sense that Boromir went on his own to the council, searching for answers. Review, PLEASE!