Promise Me

Chapter Five

Time had stopped. There was no other explanation for how slowly the night crept on. Gabriella and the other two remained in the infirmary with Ioreth, despite her orders for them to leave.

"Of the four of us," Gabriella told her firmly, "I am the only one with even a hint of training. I am perfectly capable of defending us if need be. You and Ava are needed here because you know how to heal, so you do that and I will concentrate on keeping us in one piece, more or less."

"So, why am I here?" Dory asked.

"Because we like you," Gabriella told her.

"How fortunate for me," she replied dryly.

Gabriella smiled at her, then moved across the room to the windows that overlooked the eastern section of Minas Tirith. Now she could see the war in addition to hearing it and what she saw unsettled her to no end. She'd never seen so much death and destruction as what played out before her eyes. It wouldn't be long before the Houses of Healing would be overrun with casualties.

But hopefully, it would not be overrun by the enemy. That was far too awful to even contemplate.

She'd seen the wizard pass through earlier, and for a moment, he stopped and his gray eyes met hers. Despite being across the room from him, she saw the sorrow in those gray depths, felt it in his heart. He knew what had happened Boromir and for a moment, she wondered if he'd been with Boromir when he'd died. She hoped so. She hoped someone had been, that he hadn't been alone. Or afraid.

No, he would never be afraid. Not Boromir. He didn't know the meaning of the word. Or so she told herself as her eyes stung and the wizard took a step in her direction. But then, Ioreth caught him by the elbow and pulled him aside and a moment later, they had gone up to Denethor's chambers.

Now, as she stared out at the battle raging across the fields, she couldn't stop thinking about Boromir. What had happened to him? What became his final resting place? She hoped it was somewhere that would soon know peace. Perhaps someone would pass through who knew and when the time came that the war was behind them, she might find it.

The thought of his dying along lay heavily on her mind. He did not deserve an ending such as that. He deserved all of the ceremony of any soldier, all of the pomp and pageantry of being the steward's son and heir. He deserved a grave where people could go and pay their respects and perhaps lay flowers for him.

She wanted to be able to visit him, morbid as that felt. She missed him beyond grief.

She would miss him until the end of her days.

She would love him until the end of time.

All through the night, they remained in the main infirmary, so accustomed to the thunder and fire of war that they no longer jumped at every sound. From her perch high above, Gabrielle watched as the city fought back valiantly, despite being out-armed and out-manned. It wouldn't be long before the orcs and their ilk make their way into the fortress and although her heart hammered erratically at the thought, her hand tightened about the handle of her sword. She would not let them take the infirmary peacefully. And while she might not have had the heart to knock Boromir down, she didn't think it would be a problem when it came to orcs and those who chose to side with them. Besides, it was most likely orcs who'd killed Boromir, so she would gladly kill as many as she possibly could in return for him.

The hours continued to limp onward. The fighting continued. Wounded still arrived. Gabriella rubbed one tired eye. All she wished to do was sleep, but sleeping was out of the question now.