Series: Lord of the Rings
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and its characters are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. Miradel is a fragment of my imagination and belongs to me.
A/N: Set before Fellowship. Miradel and Boromir are NOT lovers. Good friends, nothing more.
"To Imladris?" She could not hold back the surprise her voice contained. It held surprise to the words her friend had uttered just now.
"Yes. I plan to start riding to Imladris tomorrow to seek the help of the elven kind there." He replied, fidgeting and playing around with the practice sword he held in his hands. His gaze was firm upon the other's face, a look of determination plastered onto his face.
"I don't see how Lord Denethor and Faramir ever allowed you to venture on such a conquest…" She muttered, swinging the tenuous practice sword, which was longer than her personal sword, lightly around with one hand.
"I pleaded with them. I can no longer stand here and watch as our people die facing cruel opponents. Facing the enemy, who seem never ending!" He clenched his fists, remembering all those that he had seen fallen during this battle with evil.
There they stood, the two of them, in a simple practice ground set up for the guards stationed at the castle. It was not long ago that they had sparred, for sweat still gleamed upon both of their brows. Being that Miradel was a woman, and woman were frowned upon when they fought, even in these dark times, they used these grounds during quieter hours to test each other's skills. Boromir stood clothed in his simple training wear, faded some by the years of use, and Miradel encased herself in a light shirt and leggings. Light seeping in from between leaves shown upon their deep gold hair as they stood there, leaning against the trunks of trees.
A sigh cut through the thin veil of silence that had draped across them.
"If that your will, then so be it. I know better than to try to waver you otherwise, for it is nearly impossible. And I do admit that the lives of our people is much too expensive…even if battling evil is costly," Miradel stated, glancing over at Boromir.
"I am glad you understand," he could not help feeling a smile curl up to his lips at the understanding he heard in her voice, "And I am sure that the fair elves will find a way to help with their extensive knowledge. After all, there must be a great amount of knowledge earned with their years."
"Ah, but then, why do you go? I do note that Faramir is the one is with the more retentive mind. If knowledge is to be passed on, would he not be of better capacity?" With a grin, she poked at his arm with the hilt of her sword, teasing the Captain of the White Tower.
"Aye, but I am more fit for the journey there!" With a grin of his own, he poked back.
"That is true indeed! Dear Faramir is strong of mind, but he will never surpass his brother in the field of physical endurance and battle, I fear." She let light laughter spill from her. It was joined in by laughter from Boromir not too long after. Yet that eventually faded into the soothing air of nature.
"How goes your affairs?" Boromir asked her, now that the air had lightened.
"Good. For my father, that is." Miradel gave a small shrug in an almost impassive manner, for there was no joy or depression in her voice when she spoke.
"What do you mean by this?" Brows furrowed, he observed the manner his friend presented.
"My father wished me to wed. Says he has found me a match. I do suppose I have put off marriage for too long. But it is a tentative matter, and for it to be a resolved matter, much thought is still needed. " Putting her hands behind her head, she leaned back further against the great trunk of the big tree.
"Is he not a good man?" Boromir inquired.
"No, it is not that. He is a good man. It is only that…" She trailed off with a sigh.
"You must understand, Boromir, not all men understand the necessity of women taking arms as you do. And it is not as if it did not take any work on my part so that you would understand." She shifted so that she was facing Boromir once again, making sure she had his attention. "What I fear is that I will have to give up arms after marriage, and that at the time when any possible arm is needed, my skills with the sword will be ponderous and not aid any because of this dullness."
"Yet your husband will surely protect you," he offered after a moment.
"It is the time of descending darkness now, and women are loosing their husbands quicker than ever." She paused, lifting her head to the heavens once, before casting her gaze back to her friend.
"What will become of the women who cannot fight when all the men who fight for them die?"
Boromir did not know how to answer that. In this day and age, there was no guarantee that such a situation would not come up. He had watched as many soldiers, with families they held so close to their hearts, collapse on the field never to return to the love they offered but encased in cold death. He held his breath at the firm gaze Miradel held him with, his eyes wide.
"But there is a solution to the problem. Well, that is, to the problem of the well-being of my sword skills." The serious expression that had dwelled upon her face was wiped off to be replaced with one of mischief. She had a tendency of shifting from one extreme, to the other.
"What would that be?" Boromir asked with a brow raised in inquiry. Thanks to the long years they had known each other, he was becoming accustomed to her quick changes.
"You and I marry. Simple as that." Miradel couldn't help as laughter escaped her at the expression that was seen upon her friend's face at the next moment. Oh, the suggestion was worth it, if only for that look!
Boromir regained his composure soon enough, and grew red as he watched Miradel double over in laughter. He cleared his throat in order to stop the laughing and regain her attention once again. "And how would that be a solution?"
"Because," she was still getting her breathing in control, and was wiping a few tears caused by hard laughter away from her eyes as she spoke, "You know the worth of my sword. And you are Captain of the White Tower, so people will know better than to question your judgment when it comes to battle." She patted his arm for emphasis or whatnot. "Besides, it is not as if you are interested in a romantic relationship. I hear a marriage fares better in friendship."
"I suppose…" Boromir seemed to be considering this seriously, thinking hard. His brows were furrowed in concentration.
"Let us make it simple, for I fear for your poor brain if you put too much strain on it," she grinned like a cat while saying that. "When you return from your journey, we will have a duel. If I win, we will put my plan into action." They had been training together for some time, and Boromir still led, but only by a few.
"What do I receive if I win?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Anything within reason, I suppose." Another small shrug was directed to Boromir. The said man seemed to think some more, before raising his face.
"Done. So it shall be." He had a bright smile on his face like one when he came to a conclusion of something. He then raised his gaze towards the skies, and narrowed his eyes a fraction. "Ah, it seems that I have lingered here too long. Faramir is surely ready to hunt me down."
"And we know how ugly that can get," she teased.
"Oh, hush." He idly waved a hand at her, but was grinning as he did. "I must go. Good day to you, Miradel."
"Aye, good day to you as well, Boromir."
Boromir started off to head back to his duties, but was stopped by Miradel calling his name not too long after his start. She had straightened up from her position of leaning on the tree and was now standing at her natural posture.
"Adhere to your promise, old man!" With those words, she threw something at Boromir. It took no difficulty for him to catch it, and when he did, he opened his hand to reveal the charm that Miradel always wore. It was nothing fancy; only the family crest engraved upon a miniature sword, a replica of her personal sword. He stared at it for a moment before finally looking up to see a grinning at him.
"I always stick to my promises, child!" He shouted back good-naturedly. He grasped the charm that was now settled in his hand, holding it tight as he walked off again.
A soft passing wind blew through the warm, light afternoon.