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 Post subject: Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
PostPosted: August 6th, 2011, 7:23 am 
Maia
Maia

Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502

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Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
An alternative universe fanfic ~ featuring OC/canon pairing Goldomir (Goldleaf/Boromir)
~ By Goldleaf ~
-Header by Darkheart-


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Our story is set during the War of the Ring, during the time period of the Fellowship of the Ring. Denathor, Steward of Gondor, has recently died, his title passing down to his eldest son Boromir. The responsibility of protecting the kingdom of Gondor now lies wholly on Boromir’s shoulders. He is not alone, however; he has his brother, Faramir, captain of the rangers of Ithilien, to help him. Also, he has a loyal wife by his side. Goldleaf and Boromir are newly married, despite Denathor’s insistence that the match should not take place, deeming the young woman’s bloodline unworthy.
The newlyweds are very much in love, but Goldleaf secretly wonders if her husband’s father was right. She feels that she was not born to be the Stewardess, and that her new station is altogether too high and grand for her. She would never change her decision to marry Boromir, since she loves him more than life itself, nor does she resent Boromir’s duty to Gondor… she only wishes for a simpler life.


~~~


Chapter 1


Goldleaf stood awkwardly as the ladies in waiting attended to her, combing her long blonde hair over her shoulders, arranging the dark blue train of her gown and twitching the sleeves. She felt like a doll being fussed over by little girls. Why she suddenly needed these women to attend her, she had no idea; she desperately wished to send them away, but perhaps that would be selfish of her to rid them of employment? It wouldn’t be considered proper, in any case, for the most important lady in the kingdom to be without serving women. So much had changed since her marriage to Boromir. She was happy, of course; she loved him with all of her heart. However, it was the things that came along with loving him that she couldn’t become accustomed to, no matter how hard she tried. In her heart, she was still a girl from a poor family of no account. This grand lady, clad in rich silks and jewels, seemed a complete stranger to her.

“You look beautiful, my lady!” one of the girls cooed, reverently stroking a lock of Goldleaf’s hair. “Would you perhaps care for a dab of scent? Shall I fetch your rose water essence for you?”

They all seemed to be trying so hard. It would be rude, she supposed, to refuse. With a forced smile, Goldleaf nodded, trying to summon an appearance of enthusiasm. “Yes please. That would be lovely.”

She stepped away slightly, and the throng of girls hanging around her scattered obediently. They all appeared incredibly attuned to trying to please her, as if it was their honor to do whatever she wished. Goldleaf stood still as her pale neck was anointed with perfume, the aroma of roses filling the air. She watched the girl clutch the perfume bottle as if she had just used the scent within to anoint a queen at her coronation. “Thank you,” Goldleaf said, managing to keep her voice smooth and steady, “you’re very kind. Now…” she paused. She longed for a little privacy, some time spent in her own company. The flock of young women meant well – they were paid to mean well – but she didn’t feel comfortable around them. “I think you should all take a little break before we go to attend the banquet.”

The girls stared at her, wide-eyed. “A break?” one of them squeaked. Goldleaf nodded.

“You’ve all been working so hard, you deserve some respite,” she assured them. “I shall be quite fine by myself for a while. I might read a book.”

~~~

Goldleaf perched on the window seat overlooking a beautifully grand view of Minas Tirith; her rooms were now emptied, and felt much more peaceful. She really had no need of all those girls. It was far better simply like this, by herself, alone. She wasn’t a queen, although it was true that she was Gondor’s equivalent. The people had warmed to Boromir’s bride, praising the brightness of her hair and the warmth and friendliness of her nature.

The people of Gondor needed leaders that they could love and respect. With Boromir at the helm of the country’s future, everyone felt a renewed sense of hope. The darkness that threatened their very existence might be conquered yet. Goldleaf shared these hopes; how could she not? She believed in Boromir.

Together they shared something precious, something beautiful. They understood one another completely; it was just that simple. Goldleaf didn’t want anything to ruin it. Boromir was aware of the fact that Goldleaf didn’t feel very comfortable with the grandeur and ceremony of her new life, for she had told him often enough that what she desired above all was simplicity. It didn’t seem to strike him as an obstacle to their happiness, though.

Goldleaf was still afraid that she might prove a disappointment, and she hated herself for this fear. She knew just how much Boromir loved her. It wasn’t right to doubt, to be scared. She only needed to get used to this new way of living. Surely, it would become natural to her? However, in a heartbeat she knew that being surrounded day in, day out, by ladies in waiting would never become natural to her.

That was one decision made, then. She had to do it, no matter what tradition said. Taking a deep breath, she decided that first on her list of things to do today would be to remove the ladies in waiting. Somehow. Her forehead creased in discomfort. Just the thought of gainsaying years of Gondorian custom made her stomach hurt.

~~~

Goldleaf walked along the long corridor towards the great hall, where a banquet was being held today. The long train of her gown swept along behind her, and she clasped her be-ringed hands together neatly. The ladies trailed along after her, exchanging happy snatches of chatter between themselves. Several times Goldleaf heard her name mentioned in tones of hushed respect, which only served to make her feel guilty. Trying to push them out of her mind, she focused her thoughts on Boromir. He would have just finished his business with council, and was probably in great need of a meal. She would sit at his side, and have what conversation with him she could. He was so busy nowadays, and they found it difficult to spend time together. Yesterday, Boromir had promised Goldleaf that very soon he would take an entire day off just for her. Although the idea pleased her immensely, she wasn’t too sure if it was sensible; there was so many matters that Boromir, as Steward, needed to attend to.

~~~

As Goldleaf entered the great hall, the small gathering rose from their seats. Goldleaf acknowledged them with a gracious bow of her head and a smile. She turned her gaze towards Boromir, who sat at the head of the table, the space beside him vacant for her. Her smile deepened into one of greater sincerity as she looked at him, as his eyes met hers. For a moment, Goldleaf felt as if it was just the two of them there in the great hall. But the moment soon passed as she heard a flutter of excitement and giggles from her ladies behind her. She couldn’t help it; they were beginning to irritate her.

Goldleaf seated herself at Boromir’s side, neatly tucking the train of her gown around her ankles. This was the signal for all of the gentlemen to sit once more. Goldleaf turned her head and found her husband’s hand, where it rested on the armrest of his chair. “I’m happy to see you,” she whispered. Her eyes had lit up in his presence. Boromir smiled back at her, before looking at her more closely. Her lovely blue-grey eyes seemed to become quite moist. He leaned closer towards her, wrapping his hand around hers.

“Are you alright?” he kept his tone very low, so that only she could hear. Goldleaf nodded automatically, feeling the tears grow in her eyes, unable to help them. She kept her head close to Boromir’s, not wanting anyone else to see.

“Yes. Yes, of course I’m fine,” she murmured.

“You are lying.” Boromir’s eyes crinkled in a rueful, sad smile. He could almost feel the rest of the banquet guests straining to listen to their hushed conversation, as could Goldleaf; he saw the blush rising in her cheeks. Not wanting to pain her further by drawing attention to her disposition, he tried to make his expression as normal as possible. “We shall talk later,” he assured her quietly. “I promise.” He squeezed her hand, before turning back towards the rest of the guests. “And now we dine,” he declared, generally.

Goldleaf sat back in her seat, blinking slightly. She felt as if there was something wrong with her, as if she was lacking something. Boromir kept hold of her hand, and it was a comfort to her to be able to hold on to the only person in the hall who was real to her. He had promised that they would talk. She hoped it would be soon. Very aware of the guests, she altered the tilt of her head, wanting to appear confident and at ease, and summoned a smile to her lips, picking up a goblet of wine.


END OF CHAPTER 1

"Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me." ~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson

_________________
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~~Siggy by Lembas~~


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 Post subject: Re: Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
PostPosted: August 6th, 2011, 11:59 am 
Maia
Maia

Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502

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Chapter 2


The banquet lasted far longer than Goldleaf had expected it to. Talk of battles and war had broken out amongst the men, and Goldleaf had found herself sitting silently, poking at her food while she listened to their enthusiastic speech. It wasn’t something that she could be a part of, although she was trained in sword-craft. Her appetite had dwindled, and her stomach ache, born of anxiety, grew worse. In the end, she had politely excused herself and retired to her chambers, instructing her ladies as kindly as possible that she wanted some peace and quiet.

Now she lay spread across her four-poster bed, her eyes closed. She had put aside her fur robes, which were cast discarded on the floor. It had been far too warm a garment, especially considering the heaviness of her dark blue silk gown. Goldleaf felt mentally exhausted. Boromir would understand her departure, she knew this. He wouldn’t blame her; he had seen for himself how strained she was feeling.

Goldleaf opened her eyes and gazed up at the ceiling of her room. She willed it to melt away to reveal a perfect sunset sky, or a landscape of midnight stars. When they had first met, Goldleaf and Boromir would watch the skies from a high secret place in Minas Tirith. Just remembering those days brought a smile to Goldleaf’s lips. She longed for that time again. But she couldn’t go back to the past; she could only face the future. And the future could be bright, vivid with possibilities.

Outstretching her hand, Goldleaf looked at her wedding ring, a beautiful gold band glinting in the morning light. Her mind was still fresh with the memories of her wedding day. She’d been nervous, of course, but so happy, bursting with joy that her dearest wish was taking place. She had been clad all in white, with a wreath of pale flowers plaited into her hair. That small recollection brought to mind the jeweled pins that were wedged into her hair now, uncomfortable and slightly pointy. She tugged them out, setting her locks free and unadorned.

The pins sat in the palm of her hand for a moment as she weighed them, appalled by how heavy they were. She didn’t dare imagine their worth. The value of these hair trinkets could buy an impoverished family so many necessary things. Guilt continually griped at Goldleaf; she knew what it was like when money and possessions were dear. To go from having nothing to having everything was a severe culture shock.

She dropped the hairpins onto the soft velvet bead spread, wanting to close her eyes and dream. But before she could return to her reverie, she heard the handle of a door being turned. Suddenly alert, she launched herself up from her pillows and slipped off of the bed, eyeing the room for an object that could possibly be used as a weapon.

She needn’t have worried; it was only Boromir. He stepped through the door which divided Goldleaf’s bedroom from the outer chamber and closed it behind him quietly. For a few moments, Goldleaf simply observed him, noting his movements as he slowly crossed the room towards her. She felt slightly embarrassed, wondering whether she had caused a scene by quitting the banquet early.

“I… I’m sorry…” she began, tripping over her words slightly, before Boromir silenced her by pulling her into a hug. Goldleaf’s shoulders heaved with relief, and she leaned her head against Boromir’s warm, comfortable shoulder, allowing herself to relax. “I’m such a fool,” she spoke against the material of his tunic, her voice slightly muffled. “Perhaps you might be so good as to remind me exactly why you married me?” there was laughter caught in her throat.

“I believe you know the answer,” Boromir replied with a soft chuckle, as he held her. “I married you because I love you. You are most definitely not a fool. Why should you call yourself a fool?”

“Because…” Goldleaf struggled to explain. How could she tell him that she would never fit into the world he’d been born into, the world he thrived in? A small pause stretched out before she stipulated bluntly, “because I cannot be the Stewardess. I cannot be the grand lady you wish me to transform into.”

Boromir loosened his embrace slightly and gently touched Goldleaf’s chin, raising her head towards him so that they could look each other in the eye. “Who said that I wished that?” he enquired, his brow furrowing with confusion. Goldleaf said nothing, but only looked at him, knowing that her gaze was filled with pain. Boromir studied her silent regard.

“Nobody,” she replied, finally. “But you must tell me: is it what you want? Because both you and I know I cannot be her, this woman in thick furs and diadems, not in my heart. In my heart I’m just a girl who is helplessly in love with you.” Her gaze never wavered, not once, even though her eyes began to fill with tears. She saw Boromir take a deep breath.

“Good,” he spoke softly. “Good. Because I want you to stay that girl. How could you believe otherwise?”

Goldleaf waited a moment, her eyes shining and threatening to spill over. Unable to help herself, she let out a sob, before covering her mouth with her hand. She wished that she didn’t cry. It made her feel so weak, so foolish. But Boromir brushed away the tears that spilt down her cheeks, as if he would wipe away her grief. When he had finished, he cupped her jaw line gently, his fingers sinking into her hair. Goldleaf covered his hand with her own, and their fingers linked.

“You see,” Boromir said, “we are still those people, watching the sky, hoping for a happier tomorrow. Nothing has changed. Not really.”

“Promise me,” Goldleaf said very quietly, needing to hear him say it. “I need you to promise me, Boromir.”

“I promise,” he said, at once.

Goldleaf nodded, and closed her eyes. A few more tears clustered at her eyelashes. She tried to keep her breathing calm and measured. So absorbed in trying to gather back her strength, she was startled when she felt Boromir’s brow touch hers. But she did not pull away; she leaned closer, feeling his hair mingle with hers. They would be alright. She had his promise. They had one another.


END OF CHAPTER 2


“And wilt thou leave me thus,
And have no more pity
Of him that loveth thee?
Alas, thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! Say nay!" ~ Sir Thomas Wyatt

_________________
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~~Siggy by Lembas~~


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