Her Prince

Her Prince

“I'm telling you, you're a silly girl Gilraen!” Her aunt shouted as she threw on her cloak and grabbed her bag. “He won't even notice some lowborn girl!”

Gilraen ignored the jab and ran out the door, skipping steps as she left the vine covered weaver shop her family owned and ran towards the procession of soldiers marching through the city streets. The column was marching at a leisurely pace through the gates to the first second of the city and upon the faces of the soldiers could be seen confidence and pride as only a Gondorian soldier could show.

Gilraen ran past the soldiers, several of whom glanced to look as she passed by, but she didn't notice, her goal was far ahead at the front of the column down by the city gates.

“Watch it!” Someone shouted as she pushed past the crowds that had gathered to see the soldiers off, but she didn't notice or care as she ran on, her feet nearly stumbling twice upon the white stone road. Finally she arrived at the courtyard at the main gate where soldiers were forming up in perpetration to march out, there, on horseback and in shining armor was her one true love, Lord Boromir of Gondor!

Of course they'd only met once, back when the young commander and his brother had patrolled the city in their splendid chain-mail fighting imaginary orcs and dragons that were always attacking the city, protecting the citizens and demanding thanks for their efforts in saving Minas Tirith from constant doom! Since the day she had been lucky enough to be a fair maiden saved from certain doom by the heroic young lads she had been smitten with the young lord.

“SOLDIERS OF GONDOR! ARE WE GOING TO JUST LET THEM SIT IN OUR CITY IN OUR LAND?” Boromir shouted as he wheeled his horse about in the square and a masterful display of his skill in the saddle.

“NO!” The soldiers shouted back as Gilraen pushed through the assembled crowd to get a view of the man on horseback.

“SAURON THINKS GONDOR IS WEAK! LET US REMIND HIM OF THE STRENGTH OF OUR GREAT PEOPLE!”

As the troops cheered Gilraen swallowed and ran forward into the courtyard, her hands shaking as she ran out in front of the soldiers and towards the rider.

Boromir turned his horse about quickly to face the oncoming girl, the spear in his hand moving to a defensive position as she ran up, her eyes unable to look up at his.

“MY LORD!” She shouted, her voice quivering out of nervousness, “I, I, I,”

The young lord's face twisted into a slight smile and he raised his spear. “I'm afraid you can't join us, I can't let a flower so fair risk being trampled in the fight!” He stated earning a few laughs from the assembled men.

“I made this for you to carry into battle!” She replied quickly reaching into her bag and pulling out a folded sheet of white cloth, and holding it up, a large silken banner unfurling with the tree of Gondor emblazoned in gold thread in its center.

Boromir smiled and lowered his spear. “And I shall gladly carry it into battle my fair lady.” He replied nodding to her.

“We met before!” Gilraen said excitedly, finally meeting his eyes as she tied the large flag to his spear.

The young lord nodded. “And we shall meet again when I return.” He replied lifting the spear and waving it to the men. “MEN! THIS FAIR GONDORIAN MAIDEN HAS ENTRUSTED ME TO BRING THIS BANNER GREAT GLORY AND HONOR! ARE WE GOING TO LET HER DOWN?”

“NO!” The soldiers shouted with enthusiasm and humor that for a moment made them forget the dangerous mission they were about to undertake.

“I SWEAR, AS LONG AS I LIVE, THIS FLAG WILL FLY OVER OSGILIATH!”

And with that they were off the soldiers cheering as Boromir turning his horse and walking out the Great Gates of Minas Tirith, men in the square forming up to follow the banner he held high above his head, their steps rhythmically stomping out a melody of metal and leather as they crossed under the great arch and into the great fields of Pelennor, the sun glinting off armor and spears before the dust of their feet on the road blurred them from view.

Gilraen ran to the top of the walls as they marched, hoping for one last glimpse of her knight in shining armor! There, at the head of the column on horseback, slowly fading from view was Boromir son of Gondor, gallantly marching with his spear held high and the banner she had given him flying proudly in the summer breeze as he marched into the shadow of Mordor.

Maybe her aunt was right, maybe she was a silly girl for loving a prince, but her gallant Boromir had promised he would return and she would wait for him, her gallant prince, to return. 

Inspired by this song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2F9ADVDSZLw)