The Forgotten Love ~A Faramir Love Story~

Chapter VIII

Gwen sat in the corner of her room, her head buried in her knees. It had been nearly an hour. Ramas would surely be back soon to escort her out of the city.

Where was Boromir?

"Come quickly," she silently pleaded. Small beads of sweat started to form on her forehead from anxiety. Her hands shook as she wiped them off. 

The sun was rising high in the sky. It surely has been over an hour.

"Hurry," she urged, her voice strained.

"Go get her!" Her head whipped around at the sound of voices. Slowly she backed up as the footsteps approached her heavy oaken door.

The door handle shook as the guards attempted to open the door.

"It's locked, this accursed door!" One of the men shouted, kicking the door.

Gwen closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the noise while praying Boromir would return quickly.

"Oi! Just break it down!" The head guard instructed. His words were succeeded by a loud pounding against the frame of the door. Gwen watched in horror as it quivered against their weight.

Finally, the door gave way to the men, caving in and smashing against the ground. Splinters flew everywhere, one grazing Gwen on the cheek.

"Get her and let's go!" The commander ordered.

Gwen limply allowed the guards to pick her up and bind her hands, leading her out of the room. It was no use to argue or fight back. It was over.

Boromir had failed her.

Hanging her head not in shame, but to hide her tears, Gwen was marched through the Citadel and out into the city. She cared not for the stares nor the whispers around her. She was numb.
Where would she go? How would she survive? Would she ever see her loved ones again? Her mother Faerwyn, Bronwethiel, Mithrandir? Faramir?

Gwen choked out a sob. She had not even been allowed to say good bye to the man she knew she loved. They were pulled apart, broken, like flesh being torn from bone. All that was left was a great blazing pain, never to be quenched.

They were nearing the bottom level of Minas Tirith when they were stopped. Something was causing a great uproar. People were running for cover from horses that thundered down the path. They were lead by a man blowing a white horn. The horn of Gondor.

It was Boromir.

The riders galloped towards the three guards and Gwen surrounding them.

"By order of the Steward, the girl will be handed over to me," announced Boromir. "Untie her immediately."

The guard nodded, daring not to defy the Steward's heir as they quickly untied Gwen's bonds. Boromir held out his hand and Gwen ran to it, grabbing it as he pulled her up onto his saddle.

Without another word, Boromir spurred his steed, galloping down the level and out of the city gates.

Gwen clung tightly to Boromir's waist, fearful of falling off and being trampled by the other horses.

"Where are we going?" She called to him as they cleared the city.

"I'm taking you where you will be safe. I'm taking you to Dol Amroth."

~~~

"Why are you taking me to Dol Amroth?" Gwen asked Boromir for quite possibly the hundredth time that day.

Boromir, for the hundredth time that day, said nothing. He simply glanced at her sadly, as if he knew something she did not. Instead he dropped the pile of wood in his arms to the ground, tossing Gwen a piece of flint. "Start a fire, will you? The hunters will return soon." He asked quietly, not making eye contact with her.