Hello again! After speaking with a friend, they convinced me to write a second chapter. It ties directly to my other story, "Dear Heart". I also made some edits to Chapter 1 so it would flow a little better, so I'd give it a read before you continue on. Enjoy!

After Boromir's death, Telemnya gradually withdrew herself from the presence of the family of the Steward. Despite her status as being the betrothed of Boromir, after his death, this title meant little. Faramir disagreed, but he could not force her to remain a part of his and Denethor's lives.

Not that it mattered much to Denethor. After Boromir's funeral, he had gone from caring about her and her future with his son to completely ignoring her. In fact, it seemed as if Telemnya only aggravated Denethor, reminding him of his dead child who would never return. The looks of disgust mixed with grief were too much for her to continue to bear, so the only solution, at least in her mind, was to distance herself from their family and try to live without them.

She was the daughter of a nobleman who was one of Denethor's closest advisors, so it gave her a measure of status, but she tried not to use this to her advantage, as many of her fellow nobility were wont to do. Instead, she moved out of the home of her father and decided to purchase her own place, to the dismay of the aristocracy.

Telemnya chose to help as much as she could in the Houses of Healing, which provided her with a source of income. She enjoyed gardening and all growing things, so she spent much of her time tending the sizeable herb and flower garden used for salves and potions, and learned how to make them. Things were getting increasingly dire, and it was all hands-on deck to support the war effort.

It was here that she was when the ring was destroyed and the war was won. It had seemed hopeless when the men were sent to the Black Gate, and many thought this last effort was useless, although only a few people knew the real purpose of their going. Telemnya was kneeling on the ground, her gardening apron and gloves covered in dirt, when she noted the darkness above her lengthening and almost stretching towards the citadel. She heard screams from terrified onlookers, but when it seemed the darkness would overtake them, it dissipated, the wind blowing it away and leaving clear blue skies in its wake.

Shocked, she stood up and stared at the Eastern horizon. The "dawnless day", as some had been calling it, was now over and the sun was high in the sky. There were no more flickers of distant fire coming from the mountains in Mordor. She wondered what had happened and who had survived.

The person she had cared about most did not. It was this grim thought that dampened her spirits. He would have been fighting alongside his men at the Black Gate if he had yet lived, and he could have been killed there as well. Telemnya sighed; there would have always been another battle, another enemy to defeat, even after a measure of peace was found. She smiled ruefully; Boromir was always a warrior at heart. He loved fiercely, but fought even fiercer. She slid down the wall and sat on the cold stone.

"I wonder what he would have thought too," a voice murmured, and Faramir settled himself beside her. He was wearing a sling, and looked pale, but he was much improved from when he had been brought to the Houses. Telemnya remembered how terrified she had been to see him; he had looked dead, and she despaired she had lost him. Thankfully, the man who was rumored to be the future King healed him, and she was forever thankful.

"Do you think he would still be alive if he had stayed behind, instead of going to Rivendell?" Telemnya asked, whispering.

"I would have gone in his stead, and who knows what would have happened?" He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "All we can do is move forward. We have hope now for a brighter future." Telemnya turned her head to look at him, and he had an almost dreamy expression on his face; she had to stop herself from laughing.

He noticed her struggle and raised an eyebrow, "Something amusing you?"

"You are smitten with Lady Eowyn! It is all over your face!" she replied with a laugh.

Faramir blushed, and stammered, "I…ah, I do not know what you mean."

Telemnya rolled her eyes, "Anyone with eyes can tell how you feel." She took his hand and squeezed it. "There is no need to deny it, especially to me." At this, she looked unsure. "Unless you no longer consider me a friend."

Faramir frowned. "Of course you are. We have known each other for a long time. It was not my idea for you to try and distance yourself from me." Telemnya sighed, and Faramir continued, "Despite your best efforts, I still view you as a sister to me. I always will."

"Why?" she asked, feeling emotional. "I…I never married your brother." She was blinking to try and stop herself from crying.

"That may be, but Boromir would wish for you to be happy. Are you not happy with us?" He swallowed, and Telemnya realized he had forgotten about his father's death for a moment. "I mean, with me?"

Telemnya gave him a small smile, but it was sad, "Of course. It is still difficult sometimes. When I look at you, I see Boromir's eyes, and his warm smile." She sighed again. "You are different in many ways, but in others, you are much the same."

Faramir squeezed her hand, "I know." Telemnya put her head on his shoulder, and they sat in silence for a time, but it was a comfortable one. Both of them were reflecting on the past, and what the future would hold.

Where will my place be now? How will I move forward?

Two weeks later

Telemnya was taking a moment to relax. Things had become very busy after the destruction of the Ring. Many soldiers returned from Cormallen injured, and along with those who were already in the Halls of Healing, it was almost overwhelming. She had been there from dawn until dusk most days, collapsing into bed and waking up early.

As much as she loved helping those who were hurt, it took a toll on the spirit. Many had been beyond help, and all she could do was hold their hands to ease their passing.

Therefore, a day off was greatly needed and much appreciated.

She had just finished clearing up the dishes from breakfast and had settled herself by the window with a cup of tea, before she heard a soft knock on the door. Curious, as she was not expecting visitors, she opened the door with a smile…

…which froze on her face as she realized who it was.

The King of Gondor was smiling at her kindly. He was wearing casual, almost peasant-like clothing, but Telemnya recognized him from when she was introduced by Faramir. He also had a sort of kingly bearing, which he could not quite escape.

Realizing she had not moved or spoken since opening the door, she shook herself and said, as calmly as she could, "Mae Govannen, my King." She gave her best curtsey, hoping he couldn't see her legs shaking. Did her Sindarin sound right? Or was it ridiculous?

Aragorn grinned, clearly pleased. "Mae Govannen, Lady Telemnya. May I take a moment of your time?"

"Of course, please come in," Telemnya replied, stepping aside so he could enter. "I apologize for the mess; I was not expecting company." She inwardly cringed, realizing it might come across as accusatory.

The King did not seem to think so, for instead he said, "No need to apologize, for it is I who has appeared unexpectedly. Your home is lovely." He sounded genuine, and Telemnya believed him.

"May I offer you something to drink? I made a pot of tea, but I have wine as well. Or perhaps you are hungry? I still have some bread and fruit left," Telemnya offered, feeling like she was speaking far too quickly.

"Tea would be perfect," he said softly, with another kind smile. After handing him a cup, both of them settled onto chairs in the kitchen. Her home was on the smaller side, but she was proud of it. The cottage on the 5th level was comfortable and well-decorated, if she did say so herself.

Using great effort to meet his wise, grey eyes, she asked, "What can I do for you, my King?"

"Please, call me Aragorn," he insisted. Telemnya was surprised at this, but acquiesced to his request.

"Very well, Lord Aragorn," Telemnya murmured, finding the informality of it to be somewhat disconcerting.

Aragorn's smile faded into something more serious, and Telemnya wondered nervously what he would say. "As you may know, I traveled with a group which set out from Rivendell, with Boromir among us."

Telemnya flinched slightly as she felt the familiar ache settle in her chest. Forcing herself to speak, she said, "Yes…it is what I have heard." Her voice was trembling, as she tried to gather herself.

She noticed him reach into a pocket on his shirt, and he pulled out what looked like a letter. "I came across this in Boromir's pack some time ago, and I believe he would want you to have it."

Telemnya took it from him with a shaking hand, and stared at it. Did she have the courage to open it? What would it contain?

"Would you like me to give you some privacy?" Aragorn asked softly.

"No, please stay," she whispered. Normally she would want to be alone, but his presence was comforting.

"Of course," he replied. "Do you mind if…" she looked up as he revealed a pipe, and she gave him a tiny smile and nodded in acceptance. Boromir liked to smoke on occasion, and the scent of pipeweed was familiar as the King puffed away.

Here goes nothing. Slowly she broke the seal, her eyes watering already as she noted Boromir's signet. She almost dropped the letter; her hands were trembling. She felt embarrassed, but Aragorn seemed completely relaxed. Finally, it was open, and the familiar, looping script caused her breath to catch.

Dear heart,

Here I sit, in a beautiful garden in a land right out of the story books. The Elves call it Imladris here, but in our tongue, it is referred to as Rivendell. I was not certain it even truly existed until I was found by the elves stumbling in the forest after losing my horse.

Telemnya frowned; she remembered how much Boromir loved Galwen; he had been her rider for many years. It must have been a significant blow to lose her.

It holds an earthy atmosphere, as if the buildings grew straight out of the trees themselves. Minas Tirith is quite majestic to behold, but in a very different way. This place…it is old. Very old. The elves who roam here look younger than myself, but they bear a grace and wisdom in their eyes that reveals their true age. They are beings of striking beauty, so much so that they make me feel old and decrepit. Yes, my love, you may argue that I have handsomeness of my own, and perhaps I do…but it is difficult to believe it in this place!

She felt some tears on her cheeks but laughed softly; she would indeed argue he was quite good looking. Telemnya had seen a few Elves here in Minas Tirith, Prince Legolas and the twin sons of Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell. She agreed with Boromir's assessment; they were beautiful and ageless…but she preferred Boromir's rugged handsomeness. Picturing Rivendell was difficult; she wished Boromir was here to tell her more of it.

You are likely wondering why on earth I was summoned here in the first place. In truth I do not entirely know. As I told you, Faramir and I had a dream where a poem was read, one that mentioned this very place. It urged one of us to go and seek clarity and knowledge. Faramir initially volunteered, but Father insisted I go. Truly, I believe Faramir would love it here; it is filled with many things he would find fascinating to study, and a library that would be a room of treasures to him!

He had mentioned the dream briefly, but seemed uncomfortable speaking of it. He disliked what he considered to be 'magic', and hearing both him and Faramir shared this strange vision made him even more wary of it. She recalled how disappointed Faramir had been to be passed over by his father for this journey; he tried to hide it, but both her and Boromir could read him better than most. Telemnya had grown up with the brothers, and remembered fondly as she would come across Faramir in the library, ink on his fingers and his nose buried in a book.

Yet, Father sent me. He wants me to bring back a trinket that he believes resides here, one of great power. I am not convinced it is here. How could an instrument of such power be within these hidden lands? Would I not sense its presence? We will see what Lord Elrond has to say on the matter.

Telemnya shivered as she knew what he referenced. She wondered how Boromir reacted when he found out what the 'trinket' was; clearly he volunteered to help destroy it, and it made her proud to know he was brave enough to undertake such a desperate mission.

It surprised me to find that there is to be a gathering of the races of all the lands to discuss something…something important. Perhaps it is this weapon? I am unsure why I was not summoned by invitation, but perhaps Lord Elrond implanted a dream in the heads of all of these races? Is it possible? Elves and their magic…anyway, it will be later this afternoon. It was quite the shock to see halflings running around; I was unaware they actually existed. Or that dwarves were still an established race. There are other elves here too, from different realms in forests far away. I do not see any men of Rohan, which is unsurprising. They face many of their own perils. Perhaps Lord Elrond did not summon me due to such concerns in Gondor?

She tried to picture all of these races in one place, and found it was easier than she anticipated. Faramir had introduced her to the four hobbits, whom she found to be pleasant and amusing. Prince Legolas and Gimli the dwarf were often seen together, and the Rohirrim were still here, both helping with the rebuilding effort and healing from their wounds. Their King, Eomer, was quite the figure. She knew a little about him due to Faramir's interest in Eowyn.

There is another man here that I came across, but he is strange. He possesses a grace that the Elves have but he is clearly of our kind. I have heard of the Dunedain but have never met this man, so it is possible he is one of their band.

Her eyes inadvertently strayed up to Aragorn. She now knew he was the 'strange man' of the Dunedain Boromir referenced. The King seemed to sense her gaze, for he met her eyes and his lips quirked in a small smile, but he did not speak. She turned her attention back to the letter, her cheeks a little red from her actions.

I am not certain why I write this because you will perhaps never read it my love. I will ask Lord Elrond if there is a courier who will head towards Gondor, but the journey is very far. It is also unlikely there are any elves here who would send a correspondence to our people.

Writing this letter makes things easier to manage; I am thinking of you and the joy I find in your company. I hope this journey is not long and that I may return to you soon.

Telemnya wished now that this letter had found her before hearing of Boromir's death. It would have been exciting to read these things, but now it brought her a measure of pain and a reminder of what could have been. In the end, he did return…but not in the way she wished.

With all my love, Boromir

The way he signed his name was distinctive. It was as if, by the time he got halfway through it, he became impatient and scribbled the rest. Faramir always teased him about it, but she found it endearing. She had received plenty of letters from him over the years, especially once he was away on patrols and campaigns more and more often.

She would treasure this, as she did all the rest of them. There was a small wooden box where she kept the letters she had received over the years, but she had not had the strength to reread them after his passing. Faramir believed it could bring her some measure of closure, but it was too difficult.

Perhaps now would be a good time to try.

Telemnya was startled when she noticed Aragorn kneeling in front of her, and he had an empathetic expression on his face. She noticed she had tears running down her cheeks, and went to roughly brush them away in embarrassment. He gently took her hand in his and said, "Not all tears are of evil, nor are they a sign of weakness. It takes strength to let yourself feel and grieve." He seemed to know exactly what to say, for it calmed and comforted her. She let the tears come, and he held her hand quietly. She glanced briefly at his face, and saw similar grief etched on his own, although he did not cry. Clearly, he cared about Boromir as well.

Eventually, Telemnya's tears dried, and she took some deep breaths before releasing Aragorn's hand. "Thank you," she whispered. "You are very kind."

"You are welcome," he replied, before rising. "If you ever need anything, please send word. A friend of Boromir's is a friend of mine." He tilted his head in farewell, before quietly letting himself out. Dimly she realized she probably should have walked him to the door, but he didn't seem to mind.

She read through the letter once more before finding and opening her box of letters. One by one, she read them all, from the first to the last she received. It made her laugh, cry, smile, and reflect on how blessed she was to have known him and experienced so much joy in his company. "I will love you forever," she whispered, hoping he could hear her, wherever he was. It would be difficult to move on, if she ever could, but Boromir would be the first to wish her every happiness.

Once she was done reading, she carefully placed the letters where they were before, and started as she noticed the position of the sun. She had completely missed lunch, and remembered Faramir had wished to join her at one of the nearby Inns. He was very popular and well-known, especially now that he was the Steward, but he liked to spend time doing what he called 'normal people things', like meeting her for a meal or going for a ride. He spent much of his days either in council meetings or with Eowyn, so it would be nice to get a little time to talk with him.

Sure enough, he showed up at her door. When she opened it, he seemed to read something on her face, and his welcoming smile faded a little. "Telemnya, what is it? You seem troubled."

She shook her head and gave him a small smile, "I am well, do not worry." She paused. "When we go to lunch…may we speak of Boromir? Perhaps reminisce a little?"

Faramir looked a little surprised, but nodded with an upward quirk of his lips. "I would like that very much."

Telemnya locked the door behind her, and they walked slowly toward their destination.

Perhaps everything would be well. Eventually. She could only hope.

I love you too, Boromir.

I hope you enjoyed it; it was a little cathartic writing this 2nd part. I always really liked Boromir as a character, both in the book and the movies. His story always makes me cry (even just recently I rewatched the Fellowship for maybe the 10th time and cried like a baby when he was dying). I wondered if there was anyone at home waiting for him, and how she would feel when she found out about his death.

Thanks for reading, and leave a review if you'd like!