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"The Eldar say that they first received this food from the Valar in the beginning of their days in the Great Journey. For it was made of a kind of corn which Yavanna brought forth in the fields of Aman, and some she sent to them by the hand of Oromë for their succour upon the long march." - The Peoples of Middle-earth, XV. Of Lembas
~*~
Year 25 FoA
Osgiliath
Boromir lifted his nose and sniffed the air. The smell of bread wafted from the kitchens. He let out a sigh of pleasure before heading in that direction. Ever since he was a boy, he had loved the smell of whatever fresh breads or pastries were being made in the Citadel kitchen. Now, he had his own kitchen staff in Osgiliath, and he could sample as much as he wanted without anyone fussing at him—except for the head cook, herself.
Nestariel had previously worked for Lord Angbor of Lamedon, but after she gave birth to a girl with red hair—a trait that was common in Angbor’s family—the lady of the house wanted both mother and daughter gone. Angbor’s brother, Angbrand, who knew Boromir well and knew he was looking for his own household staff, was able to arrange a meeting between Nestariel and Boromir. To her surprise, he only asked to sample some of her dishes, and without even trying all of them, he offered her the job. The only downside was that she would have to share the space with the king’s staff until his home in Osgiliath was completed, but Nestariel did not mind it at all.
Boromir made it clear from the start that he would not judge her or her daughter for what happened, and she was allowed to leave his employment at any time she felt his household was no longer the right fit, but he asked that she give him time to find a replacement and ensure that he or she was prepared to take over her position before she departed. He also wanted to reassure her that he did not adhere to the social hierarchy as other nobles did and he would rather they be on friendly terms than create barriers that might keep one another at a distance. It took some getting used to for Nestariel, because she was unaccustomed to her employers being so informal with her or other servants, as well as being treated like a friend instead of just a cook. Eventually, she had gotten comfortable enough with her new position that she did not immediately flinch whenever she caught Boromir or his oldest daughter, Finduilas, sneaking sweets from the kitchen and fussed at them.
When Nestariel’s daughter, Naruwen, was a little older, she began to study under her mother and was later appointed as under cook. She excelled in adding decorative embellishments to dishes and patterns to breads and other baked goods to make them appear more pleasing to the eye. Her beautiful desserts became so popular with guests that several nobles wanted to hire her for their households. Boromir said that Naruwen would ultimately decide whether she wished to remain in Osgiliath or seek a different path, but he asked her if she would be interested in making extra desserts that she could sell to anyone who wished to buy them.
This was how he found her when he entered the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the sweets for Queen Arwen’s tea party. It was the first time the queen had served dishes that were not prepared by the royal cooks, but she had heard of Naruwen’s talents and wished to try something new. She was so engrossed in her work that she did not hear his greeting, which he did not mind. He turned to Nestariel to inquire as to what she had made that smelled so good and found an unexpected sight—his fifteen-year-old daughter Aerdis kneading a mound of golden dough.
“Suilad, Ada,” Aerdis said without looking up from her work.
He came to stand at her side and leaned down to press a kiss to her hair. Whenever Aerdis was not practicing her violin or visiting Princesses Lothraen and Nimriel, she could often be found in the kitchens, learning how to cook and bake from Nestariel.
“What are you making?”
“Lembas. When Queen Arwen visited yesterday, I asked if she ever learned how to make it when she lived in Rivendell. She said her mother taught her how to make lembas, which is Elvish waybread, which she had learned from her mother. She gave me notes of how to make it and said that she wished for the knowledge to be passed on after she is gone.”
Boromir fidgeted when she said that. He didn’t know what an Elf giving up their immortality entailed, but he hoped it was not a painful thing. His own wife had done the same in order to be with him, and the last thing he wanted was for her to suffer.
“I had lembas bread once, you know. Lady Galadriel gave it to the Fellowship when we were in Lothlórien. Pippin ate four of them right away.”
"That sounds like something Pippin would do," Aerdis said with a giggle. “Naneth told me once that she had some when she was with child, and that it had seeds and flowers that were nourishing to mother and child. Queen Arwen said she did not know what had been added to them, but Nestariel knows what herbs are good for expecting mothers to eat.”
“Is that so? Are you wanting to make this for someone in particular?”
“For muinthel nín.”
Boromir’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember what that meant, and once again he wished he had paid more attention in his Sindarin lessons. When he did realize what his daughter had said, it felt like a punch to the gut. Muinthel nín—my sister.
“I beg your pardon?” Aerdis didn’t answer and only started humming as she kneaded the dough and her lips curved into a thin smile. “Did you just say that Finduilas is…?”
“Mm hmm.”
“That is odd. She has not said anything to me, or to your mother, as far as I am aware.”
“She doesn’t know it, yet.” This only made him even more confused.
“Then how do you know?” He tried to control his tone so he did not sound like he didn’t believe her.
“Because she feels queasy whenever she tries to eat anything. I heard that was common. And she and Bergil came back from Dol Amroth a few weeks ago and they kept glancing at each other and smiling.”
“I see.”
Well, it had been his suggestion for Bergil to go with Finduilas and her friends to Dol Amroth, not only as protection but because he wanted the two of them to work out whatever conflict they had been having and get along. He hadn’t expected things to escalate that quickly after making up. Not that he disapproved. He liked Bergil and thought he and Finduilas were a good match, even if Bergil was from a common background, which had never been all that important to him. He thought people should marry for love rather than for political reasons, because the couple were usually happier together when they chose one another.
“Ada?” Boromir flinched and blinked at his daughter.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said that I need to add the herbs to the dough now and then prepare it for baking.”
“Ah, very well. I will let you work.” He was still reeling from what she had just told him, and his footsteps were somewhat unsteady.
“My lord.” Boromir turned to where Nestariel was standing, holding out a small dish with two fluffy rolls that still had steam rising from them. “Is this what you came here for, my lord?”
“As a matter of fact, it was.” He took the offered plate and inclined his head. “I could smell it all the way from my study and couldn’t wait to have some.”
“Mother, I need to pack these so they can be delivered to the Citadel,” Naruwen said.
Boromir took that as his cue to make his exit, not wanting to get in the way in the suddenly-busy kitchen. As he turned in the direction of his study, he took a large bite out of one of the rolls. His eyes rolled back into his head. So delicious!
He quickly finished off the first one, and he forced himself to refrain from eating the second until after he had returned to his study. As he rounded the corner, he came to a halt when he saw his other daughter knocking on the door. She must have noticed his approach, because her head whipped around in his direction. A bright smile lit up her face as she strode up to him.
“Father, I have something to tell you!”
Boromir felt that the air had been knocked out of him again, but he managed to control his facial muscles. He opened the door to his study and ushered her inside, and after he set the plate on the desk, he gave her his full attention.
“It is something good, I hope.”
“It is more than that! I’m going to have a baby!” As it turned out, Boromir didn’t need to act surprised, because the tears that welled in his eyes were not forced, nor was the joy he felt as he drew her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. Finduilas hugged him back, but there was a bit of hesitation. “You are not angry?”
“Why would I be angry?” he asked after he drew back so he could look at her. "I get to be a grandfather!"
“Because… it’s Bergil’s, and we are not married. I was just so excited to tell you that—” He cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers.
“Your mother was pregnant with you before we wed, so I am the last person to judge you for it. And even if that were not the case, I still would not judge you. As long as you and Bergil love each other and want to spend your lives together, that is all that matters. The wedding can take place whenever the time is right.” Finduilas let out a sigh of relief and hugged him again.
“I do love him, and I am sure that he is who I want to be with. I wasted so much time being angry with him, and he had every reason to move on to someone else. But he didn’t, and if you hadn’t insisted that he come with us, I probably would still be avoiding him. So, thank you for meddling,” she said with a giggle, and then her expression turned serious. “And thank you for understanding and not… disowning me or sending me somewhere far away until I have the child alone or…”
“I would never do that. Not to you or your sister.” He felt her nod, and when she drew back, the smile from earlier was back in place.
“I'm going to start planning the wedding now. I have to think of the decorations, the food, the wine—we are definitely serving Dorwinion wine—who I’m going to invite…”
“Just make sure you tell your mother. It would not do for her to be the last person to know.”
“And I will do that, too!” Finduilas spun on her heels and sped for the door, vanishing through it in a flurry of skirts and billowy sleeves.
"There is no need to be in such a hurry," he called after her, hoping she would get the hint.
"I knew that!"
Boromir chuckled as he circled around his desk and sat down. He pulled the plate closer to him. The roll had cooled somewhat during their conversation, but it was still just as delicious. He wondered if he could persuade Finduilas to serve them at the wedding, too.