Athelas-- Aragorn Love Story

Chapter One-- Concerning Marriage

  My father's slap still rings in my ears as I stumble from the throne room. Blood drips steadily on the carpet from the royal ring that had scratched my face. 

  My maids had wordlessly slip out of the shadows, and now, they catch my swaying body and cleanse the red substance off my face. Herb infused water cleanses my wounds and milk soothes the scratches inflicted by my father. Lastly, the abhorrent powder clothes my skin-- masking whatever has occurred. Sworn secrecy is what remains of my relationship with my father. 

   None of my maids say anything. They slip back into their rooms; refusing to engage me in any talk of comfort or hope. I wince slightly, touching my cheek. Our latest fight could be told in tales of legends. Marriage. After all, that was all a woman was-- a pretty face to be used however wanted by men. 

   I slipped out of bed and into my nightgown; the breeze calming my throbbing heart. Engaged to a prince; part of the Northern Kingdom-- ten leagues from Gondor. I had only met him once--- an arrogant and self satisfied bastard, no different from my father. Marriage was not freedom; it was slavery. 

   I felt a warm presence; battle worn hands draping a cloak around my shoulders. "Boromir," I murmured, turning around and seeing the face of my brother-- freshly returned from war. His armor was no longer on him; and he was dressed nobly, as the future ruler of Gondor should. 

  "Why should I miss the opportunity to greet my beloved sister?" he chuckled as he embraced me tightly, "I heard you were getting married." I looked up at him, straining to keep a content smile on my face. My brother had just returned from war; he should not have to deal with my petty problems. Illusion of happiness was better than tales of quiet hatred. 

  "You will be happy, sister," he said, squeezing my shoulders, "Father says he is a rich and noble man-- fit to receive a crown jewel that is you, my sister." What pains me most is that Boromir's face is happy-- truly joyful for the news and that he truly cares for my happiness. He believed the empty lies that came from our father's mouth. 

  "Yes," I lied painfully, "I am most happy." The words take effort, but I had rehearsed these thousands of times in courtesy for the nobles around us-- masking my true thoughts. How sick it was that I needed to use it on my brother. 

  Boromir squeezed my shoulder again, and kisses my forehead gently. "You look tired; get some rest, sister-- you have a big day ahead of you, as do I." 

  I took a step back. "Did..did you accept Father's command?" I asked faintly, as Boromir's eyes did not meet my own. I swallowed. "You are going to the Council." It was not a question-- I already knew the answer. 

   "It is necessary, Athelas," my brother ventures, as if trying to convince himself, "you know the threat-- the One Ring has been found and our people suffer. We need it as a weapon to use against the foes of Mordor." 

  "But-- it's dangerous," I protested, "you must returned from battle; you can't possibly risk your life again." 

  "Are you questioning my skill in the battlefield?" Boromir's voice gets slightly irritated, but I let it go unscathed.