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Year 3 of the Fourth Age
Minas Tirith
Boromir leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. He blinked hard, trying to keep himself from dozing off from all of this dull paperwork. One of the reasons why he had wanted to give the Stewardship to Faramir was so that he could avoid this. He was of more use out in the field, not behind a desk. Unfortunately, although King Elessar had kept Boromir in his position as the highest-ranking officer in the Gondorian Army—answering only to the king, himself—while Faramir performed most of the diplomatic tasks, he was still forced to read and write reports, which provided him with less time at the training grounds or on the field of battle; though, fortunately, things were quiet and there was no need to go to war, especially since the last one had ended only about four years ago. However, Boromir knew from his twenty years of experience in the army that it was only a matter of time before another one started. And now that he had a fief of his own, he also had to maintain records of everyone who lived on his lands and whether or not they were paying their taxes. That was why he had hired a secretary to perform the brunt of the work.
A knock at the door startled him, and he realized that he’d ended up dozing off, after all. He straightened his posture and rubbed his eyes as the door opened, and his secretary walked into the study with a stack of papers tucked under his right arm. The cane he gripped in his left hand tapped as he approached the large desk in the center of the room. Boromir’s lip curled in distaste when the man set the pile on his desk.
“This should be the last of it, Your Highness.” Boromir’s eyes darted up to the man’s face.
“Indor… we have been over this.”
The secretary gulped and nodded shamefully. Usually, when they had been engaged in conversation for quite a while, Indor never slipped like that; it was only when he first addressed the Steward after a brief period of silence. Boromir knew the other man well enough to conclude that he only used his formal title when he was about to share something that might make him angry.
“Forgive me, sir.”
“I may have the title of ‘Prince’ now, but I never wanted to be treated like one. Unless it is people I don’t like. I don’t even like to be called ‘my lord,’ but I suppose it is better than the former.” His expression turned serious then and he bowed his head slightly. “You may not be able to serve within our ranks anymore, but you will always be a soldier.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Indor had been wounded during the Battle of the Morannon, sustaining a hip fracture and a broken leg that did not heal properly, leaving him with a limp and frequent pain. Before his injury, he had served as a foot soldier, but it was his skill in arithmetic where he shined, and when there had been long pauses in the fighting, he had taken inventory of supplies and calculated the costs of obtaining items that the troops were lacking.
Upon returning to Minas Tirith after the destruction of the One Ring, Indor discovered that his older brother Ingold was killed when the city was besieged; although he had been able to narrowly escape death when Sauron’s forces destroyed the northern part of the Rammas Echor, he still eventually lost his life. Ingold had left behind his seven-year-old son, Innas, who had already lost his mother, and so Indor took him in when there was no one else to do so.
Unfortunately, after failing a physical examination following his long recovery in the Houses of Healing, Indor had to be discharged from the army. Boromir had not wanted to do it, and had actually thought to keep Indor enlisted, just reassigning him to a different role that would not require him to fight. But there were regulations that had been put in place long before Boromir’s time, and he did not have the luxury of a light schedule to work on trying to change it. When Indor came to sign the discharge documents, Boromir asked him if he had considered his next step. It was then that Indor told him about his brother, and Boromir was deeply saddened to hear about Ingold’s death. He also learned of Indor’s nephew, who had lost both of his parents by the age of seven. Indor’s family had not been wealthy, but both he and Ingold had earned a decent living in the army. Now that one brother was dead and the other was now without work, any hopes of Innas becoming a squire for a noble lord in the next year had been snuffed out.
Indor had felt embarrassed for telling him this and apologized for oversharing, but it had Boromir thinking. Boromir was known to be quite impulsive more often than not, and he tended to not think things through. But in that moment, he had felt that he had to do something, that the entire situation was unfair and he was complicit in it because he had to remove Indor from duty. Of course, every loss left a scar, whether it was an honorable discharge, a veteran hanging up his armor when he became too old to keep putting it on, or a brother whose life was taken way too soon, but for some reason, Boromir seemed to have been affected by Indor’s situation more than he realized. He also pitied the poor boy whose family was torn apart in an instant.
“I have a proposition for you, Indor.”
“A proposition, sir?”
“Yes. How would you like to work for me?”
“But… I thought regulations—”
“I do not mean in the army. I mean in my household. I now share the Stewardship with my brother, and while he handles more of the diplomatic duties, I do still have to keep record of things, and it really is not one of my strengths. But you? You are excellent at it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Until Osgiliath is rebuilt, my family and I will be residing in the Citadel, but the king has set aside lodgings for any of my personal household staff, which is still relatively small, at the moment. If that arrangement is suitable, then I would hire you as my secretary.”
“Sir… you do me a great honor.” Boromir chuckled.
“An honor? No, I am simply giving you all of the work that I do not wish to do myself!” Boromir rose from his seat and crossed his arms. “I will also take on your nephew as my squire.”
“Sir… thank you. Thank you so much!” Indor said and bowed low until his nose nearly touched the desk. “I am forever in your debt!”
“You owe me nothing, Indor. You have already sacrificed.” Boromir extended his right hand for Indor to take. “I will draft up some sort of contract. It won’t be very good, since I am terrible at this kind of thing, so don’t judge me too harshly.”
“I would never, sir.”
“Excellent. I shall send word when the paperwork is ready to be signed. And bring your nephew with you. I should like to meet him.”
“I will, sir.”
Boromir released his hand and sat down once more, which was Indor’s cue that he was dismissed. He lingered for a moment, his mind deep in thought, and then he straightened as much as he could with his wounded leg and executed the Gondorian salute. Boromir’s eyes widened for a second before he stood up again and returned the salute. While some of the junior officers occasionally executed casual, half-hearted salutes to their subordinates, Captain Boromir had never done anything halfway, despite the laidback and friendly personality he had when he wasn’t yelling at his men to run laps or practice drills, and that was something that Indor had always admired about him.
It was as Boromir was lowering his arm to his side that Indor saw his eyes glisten with emotion. He couldn’t be sure what the reason was, but it was a comfort to him to know that someone like Captain Boromir cared about the struggles of someone like him and made him feel like he mattered. For the first time since he had entered the office, Indor turned away from his former commander and future employer with a smile on his face.
~*~
Over the next three years, the number of servants and staff in Boromir’s household had grown, and it was only thanks to Indor’s diligence and organizational skills that he was able to hire as many people to work for him as he had. But not only that, Indor’s situation had made him realize that he needed to do more for the people of Gondor who had lost so much in the war. He knew that there had to have been many other soldiers who were held back by their injuries, putting on a brave face while fighting through the pain so that they would not lose their jobs, though some, like Indor, could not hide their scars. And, of course, there were many of his brothers-in-arms who had not survived their wounds and left behind widows and fatherless children. He didn’t want any of them to be forgotten and left to fend for themselves, and while he wouldn’t be able to help everyone, at least he would make a difference for some of them.
And so, he had Indor compile a list of the Gondorian soldiers who had been wounded in action since the beginning of the war, as well as a list of those who lost their lives and the names of surviving relatives, if they had any. He contacted many of the people on these lists who lived in Minas Tirith and offered them employment, either permanently or on a temporary basis until they were able to financially support themselves and could either find a job that made better use of their talents or enter civilian life without any obstacles hindering them. Whenever anyone declined his offer, for one reason or another, Boromir offered to put in a good word for them if they needed it.
All of this had been done with King Elessar’s permission, of course, since all of these people would be living in the Citadel for at least a few more years, yet. The king had been so moved by this that he decided to expand on it by establishing initiatives that helped skilled youths find good apprenticeships, assisted families and individuals who lost property to be able to pay for repairs or replacements, and to improve the conditions of orphanages. He also may or may not have stolen a few of the people on Boromir’s lists, but Boromir did not object to it. He was the king, after all.
There were still a few vacancies that needed to be filled, one of them being a live-in governess for the Steward’s daughter, who was now almost four years old. Boromir didn’t know the first thing about raising a daughter, or rather a child who would grow up into a lady, so when he learned that she was old enough to begin her lessons, he panicked and lamented to Indor that he had no idea where to even look for a tutor. Indor knew as much about daughters as his employer did, but he had his resources at his disposal and would put them to good use to help find one. That was why he was here, now.
“Sir, I…” Boromir paused in flipping through the stack of papers and looked up. “I made some enquiries and I believe I have found a possible candidate for the position of your daughter’s governess.”
“Is that so? Who is it?”
“Lady Idhreniel, the widow of Lieutenant Haeron.”
Boromir stiffened and his expression darkened. Another thing that Indor had admired about him as a commander was that he knew every soldier’s name and took the time to get to know each of them, no matter their background or rank, and he even knew some of their families, as well. It was not something that many officers did, too caught up in their own social circles amongst others of similar rank to pay any mind to the enlisted men. So, Indor knew instantly that Boromir had recalled Haeron’s face and conversations he’d had with him.
“I see.” He cleared his throat and attempted to banish away his dark thoughts. “Tell me about her.”
“She is currently living with Lieutenant Haeron’s parents, and she has a daughter who is around the same age as Lady Finduilas.” Boromir groaned.
“She’s not old enough to be a lady, yet…” He knew it was the proper form of address, but he didn’t want her to grow up so fast. He wanted her to stay small forever. Not only that, but hearing someone refer to her as “Lady Finduilas” made him think of his mother.
“My apologies, sir.” Boromir waved a hand dismissively.
“Anything else?”
“I seem to recall Lieutenant Haeron speaking on several occasions about his wife’s talent for music, and mentioning how she knew how to play many different instruments.”
“Hmm.” Now that he had mentioned it, Boromir was starting to remember hearing that, as well. He wasn’t sure if his daughter had an interest in music, and he imagined that she was more likely to hit people over the head with the instruments than try to play them. “And you said she has a daughter who is Finduilas’ age?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It would be nice for Finduilas to have someone who lives closer than her cousin in Ithilien. The only other playmates she has, if you can call them that, are Crown Prince Eldarion and Innas, though I think they both find her to be quite a handful.” And that was putting it in the nicest way possible. He rubbed a hand over his chin and lightly scratched at his beard. “Very well. Extend to her an invitation for a meeting, and tell her to send in her reply a time that would be suitable for her. I can always just cancel the rest of my engagements if I need to.”
“Or you will just pass off all of your work to me… sir.” Indor cleared his throat. Boromir folded his hands before his face and cracked a smile. “I will draft a message for Lady Idhreniel.”
“Good work, Indor.”
“Thank you, sir,” he replied and bowed low before he left the study to write a very important letter.
~*~
“I have never been inside the Citadel before. Or in this part of the city, for that matter.”
“You haven’t? Did you not attend the coronation?”
Boromir had greeted Lady Idhreniel personally, because Indor’s leg had been bothering him all morning. It was also because Boromir liked to have personal relationships with his subordinates, rather than keep them at a distance because of their differences in social class. He had always valued a man’s character and his actions more than his ancestry or how much wealth he had. Upon first seeing Lady Idhreniel, he was instantly drawn to her kind smile and warm personality, and her voice was soft and airy like a gentle breeze. She reminded him a lot of his wife, which made him want to give her the job even more; not only was he sure that she and his wife would become fast friends, but he hoped that their daughters would, as well.
“I did not, I’m afraid. I wanted to, but the loss of my husband was still so near that I could not bring myself to feel joy.” Boromir glanced at her as they walked through the halls, and he saw in her face what she spoke of. She was young, perhaps in her late twenties, but he could clearly see that grief had taken away some of her youth. “I watched the procession from the front window of my late husband’s family home, which is near the street. I was also with child, and I did not want to be in a crowded place and risk losing the last tie to my husband that I had.”
“That is understandable. And I am deeply sorry for your loss. Haeron was a good man and a good officer.”
“Thank you. Yes, he was.”
“Well, if you would like, I can give you a tour. I have lived here my entire life, so I know all of the interesting things to see.”
“I would like that very much.”
Boromir opened the door to his study and held it open for her. Indor was seated at a smaller desk that had been set up on the left side of the room, and he stood when the pair entered. His brow tensed from the pain, but he managed to hide it well.
“Lady Idhreniel, it is good to see you.”
“And you, as well.” While Boromir showed her to a chair, Indor gathered the documents for her to sign—if she accepted the job—and placed them on Boromir’s desk. “Here is the contract, sir.”
“Thank you.” He handed them to Idhreniel for her to read. “I asked for some tea to be brought up. Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee that it will be any good, I’m afraid. Apparently, this makes me uncivilized, but I don’t know anything about tea.”
“I am sure that it will be delightful,” she said as she looked up from reading and smiled. “And do not be discouraged, my lord. The art of tea drinking and tea making is a complicated web of traditions and flavors, so it is not easy for everyone to understand, especially those who spend more time in army barracks and on battlefields than in ladies drawing rooms.”
“If only my friends from The Shire were as understanding as you. You would think I had insulted their mothers,” he said with a laugh. “Is there anything that you’ve read so far that is unclear?”
“No, my lord. This is very well-written and easy to understand.”
“I can’t take the credit. Indor drafted it up.”
“I am not surprised.” Lady Idhreniel looked up from the contract and beamed at Indor, who cleared his throat and nodded curtly before turning back to his work.
“Indor tells me that you know how to play several instruments.”
“Oh, yes. I have always loved music ever since I was a girl. I had no siblings, so my parents were able to afford a music teacher for me. I favor stringed instruments, such as the hammered dulcimer, the lyre, and the harp. I tried to learn the violin, but I never was good enough to play in front of others.”
“I can’t say I know much about music. I enjoy listening to it, but if anyone were to ask me to name an instrument, I wouldn’t be able to.”
“Just as I would not be able to name any other military rank besides the one my husband had, nor would I be able to tell you the difference between a garrison and a fleet. Everyone has something that they are knowledgeable about, and there is no shame in being unfamiliar with things that are not a regular part of our daily lives. It is impossible to master everything, my lord, nor should anyone fault someone else for not knowing something.”
‘Oh yes,’ Boromir thought, ‘she and Anael will get along just fine.’
He was getting ahead of himself. They hadn’t even discussed the position, yet.
A moment later, there was a knock at the door. Indor started to get up, but Boromir gestured for him to stay put.
“Enter.” A servant entered the room with a tea tray and set it on the desk. He placed a cup and saucer in front of Boromir and Lady Idhreniel, but as he grasped the teapot and was about to pour some of the tea into Boromir’s cup, Boromir waved a hand. “I can take over from here, thank you.”
The servant bowed and left the study, closing the door soundlessly behind him. Boromir picked up the teapot in his large hands and tried to fit all of his fingers through the handle.
“Please, allow me, my lord.”
Boromir set the teapot down and held up his hands in surrender. He watched as Lady Idhreniel easily lifted the teapot and poured the tea into the cups without spilling a single drop; her hands and arms did not falter or shake. She poured some into a third cup and brought it over to where Indor sat.
“Thank you,” Indor said, not quite able to meet her eyes. Lady Idhreniel smiled and nodded to him before returning to her seat.
“Forgive me, my lord if I am being presumptuous, but it seems to me that you prefer to do things yourself, rather than having others perform these tasks for you.” Indor snorted, but he quickly covered it up by clearing his throat and coughing.
“You are not wrong, my lady. I would probably be considered unconventional for someone of my background. I will usually do menial tasks myself, but, as Indor will attest to, there are certain tasks that I prefer not to do, such as record keeping.”
“I am grateful for the work, sir.”
“How do you like the tea, my lord?”
Boromir stared at his untouched cup and wrapped his fingers around it. He slowly lifted it toward his nose and smelled it but did not drink from it.
“What do you think of it? I would like to have an expert opinion on it before I give it a try.”
“It is splendid. The flavors blend together so well, and there is a distinct hint of rose petals that I like.”
“Those may be the roses that were brought from Lossarnach for the coronation. I’d heard that they were dried and added to tea blends. Or so the king told me. Well, Indor, what’s the verdict?”
“The lady is right, sir.”
“Very well, then.” He brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip. His eyebrows rose on his forehead and he nodded slowly. “It is better than I thought it would be. Now, back to business. What else do you think I should know about you?”
“I am not certain, my lord. I’m afraid I do not talk about myself very often.”
“What does your father do?”
“He worked here in the archives, though he has since retired because his vision has worsened with age. Perhaps you know him.”
“Not I. My brother might, but I never had an interest in reading or studying. And the archives were the last place I would go.”
“I see. Well, I developed a love of reading and knowledge from my father. He would read to me at night and would often tell me about things he found in the archives. I was not allowed to go with him, of course, but he taught me how to read and gifted me a small collection of books of my own. I read them all so many times that I can still remember every word.”
“You sound a lot like my brother. He—”
Suddenly, the door burst open. Lady Idhreniel fumbled with her cup and saucer and quickly set them on the desk before she dropped them. A small girl ran in and jumped into Boromir’s arms. He picked her up and set her on his lap before pressing a kiss to her temple. A couple seconds later, they heard a voice coming from somewhere in the corridor.
“Finduilas! Finduilas, you cannot—!" The Elf paused in the doorway and glanced between Boromir and his guest. “Forgive me. I was not able to catch her in time.”
“No harm done.” He beckoned her with his hand and she hesitantly approached his side. “Lady Idhreniel, this is my wife, Anael, and my daughter, Finduilas.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” said Lady Idhreniel.
“Papa, who’s this lady?” asked the child.
“Well, daughter, we were having a discussion about Lady Idhreniel becoming your governess.”
“What’s a governess?”
“She will be your private tutor and will teach you everything you need to know about being a lady.” Finduilas made a face.
“Does that mean I have to read dusty old books?” Lady Idhreniel laughed.
“No, Lady Finduilas, not all of them will be dusty, nor will they be about things that are no fun. I will teach you how to read books about magic and animals that can talk and about young girls who do brave and courageous things.”
“Still sounds boring.”
“Finduilas…” Boromir said in a low tone, but Lady Idhreniel did not seem to be offended. What she was really thinking was that he and his daughter were quite alike.
“We don’t always have to read stories. I can also teach you how to play musical instruments and how to dance.” The child’s eyes widened and she let out a gasp.
“Dancing?! Really?!” Lady Idhreniel nodded. “Papa, I think you should keep her around.” This drew out another laugh from Lady Idhreniel, and even Indor got a small chuckle out of it.
“Perhaps I will, if she agrees to take the position, of course.”
“Why wouldn’t she? Is it because you can’t bring your family here?”
“No, that is not why. I only have a daughter, who is around your age.” Finduilas frowned and looked around the room.
“Where? I don’t see her.”
“She is spending the day with her grandparents while I am here to meet with your father.”
“Oooooooh. What’s her name?”
“Merendis.”
“That’s a really pretty name. And so are you.”
“Well, thank you, Lady Finduilas. I think you are very pretty, as well.” Finduilas squirmed in her father’s lap and turned so that she was facing the desk.
“Papa, what’s this stuff?” she asked while pointing at the teacup.
“That is tea.”
“Huh? But Papa, you don’t like tea. You always say that whenever your cousins come to visit.” Boromir spluttered and shifted on the chair.
“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” he said as he set her down on the ground and gave her a light pat on the behind. “Go take your mischief elsewhere so that I can continue my meeting.”
“Actually, my lord, I believe that we had just finished our discussion.”
Boromir looked at Lady Idhreniel curiously and his brow furrowed as he watched her dip the quill into the jar of ink and sign her name on the bottom of the contract. Indor was instantly on his feet and came to collect the documents from her.
“You are sure about this?” Boromir asked with a raised brow.
“I am. And if it is alright with you, my lord, I would like to have that tour now. I would also like to invite Lady Anael and Lady Finduilas to join us, if they wish. I can think of no better way to become acquainted with the place where I will be working and to get to know my future student a little better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
