Far Horizons ❦ Boromir

twєntч-thrєє: fαíríєѕ αnd ѕєcrєt mєєtíngѕ

This chapter contains a character from my other Middle Earth fanfic, Words Like Wind (centered around Thorin Oakenshield and the course of the Hobbit) but for those of you who have not read it, I promise everything will still make sense overall, you can think of Arethusa like a literal fairy godmother. 

IN the afternoon hours, a small band of dwarves from Erebor arrived. The lot of them were disgruntled by the elves, the rivalry between their races had diminished little over the years. Among the traveling party was a portly dwarf with a walking axe. His beard was white as snow and tumbled over a large belly, parted in two sections that were tied off at the end with a small braid.

Over dinner, he was announced to be Glóin, son of Gróin, and Aeardis excitedly nudged Boromir at the revelation. As a child, she had grown up hearing the tales of how Smaug the Dragon was slain and of how the Lonely Mountain was reclaimed in the words of her father. It seemed her curiosity and fascination would finally be sated. After the meal had finished, Boromir stuck her side with his elbow, a gentle push that spurred her past nervousness to go and speak with the dwarves.

When she first approached the old dwarf, the two others at his side, one with hair the color of pitch, the other with fiery auburn hair, stood at attention as they took her for an elf. But her ears weren't so pointed and despite the elfin way she presented herself, they saw that she was not someone to trade insults with, still they did not entirely trust her intentions. Aeardis lowered her head, "It is an honor to meet you, Glóin, long have I heard tales about the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

A twinkle appeared in the elderly dwarf's dark eyes, followed by a bout of mirthful laughter, "Aye, you've got a silvertongue, lass, no doubt." She smiled and it must have been a contagious thing for all three returned the kindly gesture. Glóin motioned to the young dwarf on his left, "this here is my son, Gimli," he had the look no doubt. He now motioned to his right, "and his cousin, Veryn." Veryn gave her little half bow as was courtesy among the Longbeards.

"I am Aeardis of Gondor," she said. The short and nostalgic conversation between her and the dwarves did not last for a long as she wished, for when she looked over her shoulder toward where Boromir sat, she saw that his relaxed manner was gone. Now he was engaged in a heated conversation between two different elves. Aeardis quickly excused herself, thanking Glóin and his kin for their time before retreating to the empty seat to the Steward-Prince's left.

"Only the waning might of Gondor stands now between him and a march in power along the coasts into the North; and if he comes, assailing the White Towers and the Havens. The elves may have no escape from the lengthening shadows of Middle-earth," Tauron said, the tips of his ears had gone red in anger. He had come from the Woodland Realm.

Aeardis opened her mouth to protest, but Boromir's own pride spoke before she ever could. "Long yet will that march be delayed," he said. "Gondor wanes, you say. But Gondor stands, and even the end of its strength is still very strong."

It was then that another elf intervened. He had long silver hair with a pointed face and piercing blue eyes, there was a haughtiness to him that finally made Aeardis understand while it was that the people of Gondor did not take kindly to the Firstborns. "And yet its vigilance can no longer keep back the Nine," said Galdor of the Grey Havens, "and other roads he may find that Gondor does not guard."

"Mayhap this would not be a current issue had the great and valiant warriors of the Eldar answered the call to aid Gondor when this evil first began to grow in the dark of Mordor," Aeardis snapped and the table, in turn, fell silent. "Do not presume to judge Gondor and her faults when you have stood for over a thousand years watching and done nothing."

It was with those bitter words that she left the great hall, seeking solitude within the gardens as night began its descent on the world. She found refuge beneath one of the belvederes and watched as the clouds disintegrated to reveal a near starless sky. Surely that was a bad omen. For the first time in many years, Aeardis found that she was longing for her father's presence. He would know what to do and say in this delicate situation. She looked down at her left palm and found the pale splotch that resembled a strange flower, Ohtar had borne the same mark of roughly the same size on his own left hand.