Far Horizons ❦ Boromir

thírtч-єíght: drєαmѕ вrσkєn

BOROMIR fretted over her more so than the healers and midwife. He would bring her breakfast every morning on a tray and was always eager to romp about the kitchens procuring whatever delicacies she was craving. It was most amusing, though there had been moments when she berated him for his attentiveness.

Though perhaps the most annoying thing was his instance that she not partake in any activity that he deemed dangerous for the baby, including taking a horse to the markets of the lower cities to deliver receipts and payments. When her feet began to swell, he was quick to lift her into his arms. She would laugh, maybe even roll her eyes and insist on remaining independent. It was not in her nature to rely so much on others. "I'm pregnant Boromir, not crippled."

This night was no exception in Boromir's pursuit of gallant attentiveness. With the midsummer festivities coming to a close, the Steward hefted her up into his arms and together they returned to their chambers. Aeardis lay back on the bed, exhausted and aching, but still glowing.

After seeing her interact with the children of Minas Tirith for years, Boromir thought motherhood was becoming of her. He leaned forward and pressed his ear against her stomach. "What are you doing, my love?" she asked of him and though he did not respond at first she could see the smile on his lips. He was listening for a tiny heartbeat.

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It still seemed odd to think that Faramir was married. Boromir had wept on the day his little brother wed a shield maiden of Rohan. Now, though Éowyn sat in Aeardis's solar, having just revealed to her marriage-sister that she was with child as well, turning down the offered glass of watered wine.

"That is wonderful news!" Aeardis exclaimed. Éowyn nodded, her smile wide and contagious. "Our family continues to grow," she noted. Soon the halls of the Citadel would be filled with the laughter of children. It had been decades since that type of innocence could be found within the White City, for even the young had lived in the Shadow of Mordor.

Éowyn reached for one of the sweet pastries that had been brought to their luncheon and took a small bite. "Yes, and the healer informed me that Queen Arwen is with child as well." Aeardis could only imagine the trouble that their children would get into if they took after their parents, but nonetheless, she stood and embraced Éowyn.

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The days now slowly turned into weeks and soon specially made dresses were delivered to her chambers. It had been seven months since she had learned of her pregnancy and throughout her meetings with Ioreth and the Midwives they consoled her worries and continually said that she and the baby were healthy, and with the way she carried they believed it would be a boy.

Though now, after a long day of resting in the library with a tome in hand, Aeardis turned in her sleep, trying to alleviate the piercing waves of pain that swelled in her stomach and moved over her entire body. "Boromir," she shook his shoulder and with heavy eyes, he sat up. "Boromir, something's wrong," the words were mere pants as another wave of pain washed over her, this time it was near paralyzing and a strange ache welled in her heart. She knew something was not right. "It's the baby."

He held her face in his hands for a moment before realization dawned on him, "I'll get Ioreth." Boromir rushed from their chambers bare-chested and bare-footed into the winter night.

The light of the moon painted the room in silvery colors. When a wave a pain crashed over her that was stronger than all the others, Aeardis screamed and swore that the whole of Minas Tirith must have heard her cry out in the night. Yet in that instant, she knew that something had gone terribly wrong. Aeardis tossed the covers away and lifted the hem of her nightgown with shaking hands. Blood had pooled between her thighs, warm and sticky. She held onto her swollen belly and began to sob.