| Primary Character: | Boromir, Original female character |
| Rating: | T |
| Spoilers: | Since it’s a movie, yes. |
| Warning: | |
| Description: | AU. Boromir has been helping a young girl with her swordplay. When he is leaving to join the brotherhood of the ring, she comes with him. In Lothlórien Galadriel speaks to her in a vision and offers her a choice. |
She kept coming to the practice ground. Stood there watching the boys testing their skills against each other, until Boromir took pity on her and decided to help her. The girl wasn’t quite as young as she looked, but bony and boyish-looking. Her mother had passed away several years earlier and it was said that her father had long since given up on trying to raise his daughter like other girls.
”Hey – yes, you. What’s your name?”
”I’m Miroesa. Miroesa Elestirnë.”
”Miroesa – you want to fight?”
”Yes.”
”Very well. Come this way. I will instruct you.”
Her face was lit up by a brilliant smile that transformed the rather plain face and made Boromir return the smile. Today, he had time to spend practicing his sword play. His father hadn’t expressed a wish to see him in his chambers.
Boromir was surprised to find that the girl, Miroesa, had managed to learn so much on her own. She was actually quite skillful for her age. For a long time Boromir believed her to be sixteen or seventeen, but was surprised to find that she was actually about twenty. Even so, it was impressive that she had managed to learn so much by herself, when it was clear that most of the boys would never fight a girl or woman.
In the months and years that followed, he watched her improve and become a swordswoman to rival many of the boys as they grew to men.
Being busy with meeting his father’s demands, Boromir later felt stunned to realize that he had missed so much of what had been going on between them in that time. One day he suddenly realized that Miroesa was more than just fond of him and the whole situation changed from one moment to another. He found that he was flattered and – knew he would have returned her feelings, had his father not held him in such an iron grip. As it was, he knew he ought to tell Miroesa he had no more time for her, but found himself unable to go that far.
Apart from his brother, Boromir had no close friends and his – friendship – with Miroesa, for want of a better word – meant too much for him to be able to break it off. His father had never referred to the matter in any words, so with relief, Boromir had concluded that he was still allowed to spend time with Miroesa.
Then one night, something changed. Four of the boys – now young men – who had always resented Miroesa’s presence in the practice grounds, attacked her as she was walking home to her now empty house – her father had passed away in the winter.
The incident came to Boromir’s attention, when he heard shouts and the din of metal on metal, as he too, was walking back to his quarters that evening. He changed his route and caught up with the fighters a few blocks away. It seemed that despite fighting four men, Miroesa was still holding her own, but it was clear that she would never win a fight against so many opponents.
”Hey. Stop that. Leave her alone.”
The youths paused briefly, then one of them shot Boromir a rude grin.
”Oh. I had no idea you liked ugly tomboys – but – I suppose it makes sense. From what I’ve heard -”
Amazing. Boromir had always had a feeling some of the people of Minas Tirith did not like him or even Faramir – but this – to his face –
”I won’t say this again. Stop at once or I will call the Guard.”
The four youths laughed unpleasantly, then two of them directed their attack at Boromir. Miroesa renewed her defense against her two remaining opponents and was able to successfully disarm one of them. He dropped his sword and pressed his hand to his upper arm, a scowl on his face. Faced with only one opponent, she was able to quickly deal with him as well. Those two, perhaps fearing the consequences of their actions, picked up their swords and ran off.
Boromir too, though he had not had his sword in his hand at the beginning of the attack, was able to collect himself and defend himself successfully against his two attackers and only a few minutes later, the alley was silent once again.
”Are you injured?”
He squinted to make out Miroesa’s features in the gathering darkness.
”No. I’m fine. I’m sorry that you had to face them too, my lord.”
”It’s Boromir. My father may be a lord, or in any case the Steward, but not I. And never mind. Do they give you much trouble?”
Miroesa shrugged.
”Nothing I can’t handle. And you – Boromir – I hope you are not injured.”
”No, I’m fine too.”
He considered a moment, knowing he was making a mistake, but couldn’t resist anyway.
”Would you like to come and have a drink with me, Miroesa? You did indeed handle those louts very well tonight.”
”Thank you, my l – Boromir. I’d be glad to.”
He took her to one of the bars and inns in the upper city, knowing that the inn keepers would be discreet and polite, unlike in the lower city, where the talk might spread throughout the neighbourhoods and more of the same insults might be directed at them. Boromir had mostly been spared the gossip, being Denethor’s son, but he wasn’t aware of what was being said behind his back. His pride made him ignore the talk and indeed, most of it was probably just envy. Ironically, if they had known how much pressure his father put on him, they might not have envied him quite as much. Though he would never say so to his brother’s face, he did envy Faramir his relative freedom, that his father’s lack of favor allowed him.
Boromir knew the landlord and was able to get a private room in the back. Before making the request, he had hesitated, wondering if he might set the other guests’ thoughts wandering along paths he might not wish them to, but on the other hand, drinking with Miroesa in public might make the whole thing more obvious. In the end, he decided to trust the landlord who was a good man and one whose establishment he had been frequenting for years, with or without Faramir.
”Miroesa – please tell me if the others are giving you a hard time. I might be able to help. There is a smaller practice field behind the stables and I know the sword master there.”
”That would be very kind of you, my lord – Boromir.”
”Please no more of this ‘my lord’. We have known each other for more than three years, have we not? I would like you to consider me your friend.”
Again, he knew this might not be wise, but he couldn’t resist making the suggestion. Indeed, in his heart, he considered Miroesa a good friend, better than any he knew, except for his brother.
Miroesa nodded doubtfully – not, Boromir hoped, because she didn’t consider him a friend – but because of the same doubts he held. On the other hand, his father had never once told him not to consort with women, even women of another kind – and if the talk about him had reached his father’s ears, the old man had never referred to it. Boromir couldn’t help thinking that as long as he didn’t behave in an openly scandalous way, his father would not care what he did in what little time he was allowed on his own, however rare that might be.
”Very well, Boromir. I do consider you a good friend – but you see – my father may have fought in your father’s army, but I am still just a -”
”I knew your father, he was a good man. The day he died was a sad day for us all.”
Miroesa nodded at the praise. She had loved her father, even though he had been distant and strict. It seemed to her that Boromir might understand her situation, since he too, had lost his mother early on.
”Thank you, Boromir.”
The evening turned into a success and they talked and even had a modest meal together, before Boromir walked her back to her house.
Had it not been her father’s she knew she would have lived in the communal quarters of the women with no families of their own. She was wondering how long she would be allowed to stay, since there were neighbours who wished to take over the fine, if somewhat dilapidated house. It was spacious for a lone young woman to make her home in.
Outside the house, it was dark and not many torches lit up the narrow street. Only the light of the moon penetrated the gloom at street level. A stray moonbeam caught Miroesa’s face and Boromir was seized by an urge to kiss her, but was held back, feeling self-conscious. No doubt Miroesa had heard the talk as well and might be wondering if he was deliberately seeking her out to silence his detractors.
Miroesa, as it happened, was held back by no such qualms. Suddenly, Boromir felt the girl reach up on tiptoes, then press her lips to his. Thus encouraged, he pulled her closer and returned the kiss. She was no child, he had to remind himself of that. Despite outward appearances she was a grown woman and if the talk didn’t deter her, why should it bother him?
He was surprised by his strong reaction. For years he had held himself in check, not daring to risk offending his father. All that self-control was now washed away in a moment of passion. Had he displayed any interest for another lady of Gondor, he knew her parents would be demanding marriage and if his father did not approve, the situation would be impossible. Hence the talk about him and other young men. It never ceased to amaze him how easy it seemed to Faramir to ignore the charms of young women. In addition, he had never seen or heard anything to suggest that Faramir had any interest in other young men.
At the last moment, he was able to control himself and reluctantly tear himself away from Miroesa, who for a second looked stunned and – was it his imagination – disappointed? But he could not put her in an impossible situation. The fact that she had no family to demand marriage did not justify taking advantage of her and skillful fighter as she might be, a child born out of wedlock would not improve her situation.
”Thank you for tonight, Miroesa. I hope – perhaps we could meet again some time. And of course we’ll practice together whenever you like.”
”Thank you, Boromir. I would love that. Good night.”
”Good night.”
He remained in place until he had heard her close and lock her door behind her, then turned and walked back to his own quarters and the most likely sleeping Faramir.
In the months that followed, Boromir frequently had time to visit Miroesa, no matter how hard it was to hold himself back. He knew it would have been easier to break off the contact with her entirely, but he could not bring himself to do so. Had it not been for his father, he knew he would have wanted to marry her. That was a completely new thought to him. Never before had he fallen in love. His love, up until now, had been exclusively devoted to Faramir. He respected his father, but loved Faramir. Now, he also loved Miroesa.
Miroesa in her turn, had to fight off malevolent rumours but since she was completely alone no one cared enough to put her through a really difficult time. Perhaps her skills as a sword fighter too, might have helped dissuade neighbours from attacking her too openly.
After Boromir took her to the other practice ground, those youths never attacked her again. The sword master as well as the stable master were both respectful and did not waste time talking about her or Boromir behind their backs. She knew that both considered themselves friends of Boromir and in time, she liked to believe that they also came to know and respect her.
Then news came of the threat from the east and Miroesa learned that Boromir was to be sent away. She knew how little time he had to spare for her and she did not expect him to be able to return to her to say goodbye. The army of Gondor was being mobilized and she thought to heed the call to arms, but her love for Boromir made her wish to choose another course of action. That night, she went to the stable, carrying as much of supplies as she had been able to gather. Not owning a horse, she could not bring more supplies or extra clothing than she could carry, but she would not be left behind. If only Boromir would let her, she would follow him wherever he went. Nothing kept her in Gondor, nothing and no one, except for Boromir.
To her astonishment, someone called her name, when she had come no further than the next street from her home.
”Miroesa -”
She recognized the voice and instantly realized that Boromir had come to speak to her, to say goodbye. Not able to resist any longer, she ran into his arms. He held her closer than ever before, then kissed her before withdrawing.
”You have heard the news?”
”Yes – Boromir – take me with you. Nothing keeps me here anymore, with my parents dead and – let me come. I will not hold you back.”
He frowned, but could not help keeping hold of her hand.
”It’s too dangerous. If anything were to happen to you -”
”There is nowhere safe anymore, you know that. I have heard the talk as well.”
”True, but – where I go, the danger is greater. Besides, my father would never -”
”I can dress as a boy. Surely no one would find it odd that you bring a companion. And speaking of companions – what about Faramir?”
”My father has other plans for him.”
Boromir looked grim and Miroesa recalled the talk about Denethor’s lack of affection for his younger son.
”I’m sorry. Please take me. Or just let me follow. Tell me which road you take and will -”
”If anything were to happen to you, I couldn’t bear it.”
”I know. I could not bear it, if anything befell you.”
Unable to resist any more, Boromir pulled her close again and held her for a moment, long enough to count ten heartbeats, then gently pushed her away.
”Very well. I can’t deny you. If you insist on coming along, then so be it, but Miroesa – please, when the risk increases – if I ask you – will you go to a safer place?”
”Don’t ask me that. Have I not earned the right to go where you go? I’m not like the other women, who may be content to sit inside the four walls of their houses, raising their children and tending to their husbands’ needs. I am like the warrior maidens of Rohan and can’t bear to be left behind if there is something I can do to help you.”
Once again he pressed his lips to her face, then let go.
”Come. I will get you a horse. Your cloak will cover you. No one will suspect – My orders are to go alone so no one will watch me depart. My father will not know.”
”Thank you.”
”Miroesa – I have never told you this before – but – I love you. If we had lived in different times – and if you would let me – I would have wanted to marry you. It is only fair that you know this before we -”
”Perhaps one day our lives will be our own and we shall be able to please ourselves.”
Boromir nodded grimly. He sensed a different destiny for himself, but hoped that at least Miroesa would come through this great threat unscathed.
”Perhaps.”
They set off together late that night. It took them several days to reach Rivendell. Contrary to what Boromir had expected, Elrond, Gandalf and the others had no objection to ‘the boy’, Tanyc Alcarin, coming along, though it was clear that ‘he’ would not be counted among the Brotherhood. If he hadn’t been so relieved, Boromir would have wondered at the willingness to accept his companion, but as it was, he merely gratefully accepted the outcome.
Miroesa had no trouble keeping up, even though the elf was indefatigable and Strider too, exhibited more strength than any other man Miroesa had encountered before.
As they progressed on their journey, Miroeasa noticed changes in Boromir and they concerned her. She had hoped that away from his father Denethor’s pressure, Boromir would be allowed to relax and be more himself. For the first few days, that had been true. She thought they had never been so happy before. Then, when they joined the rest of the brotherhood, the strain became evident. Though Miroesa didn’t have any talent for magic, as they moved closer to their goal, she sensed the threat growing greater. Partly, it was obvious. The talk among the others made that clear. Yet her fears concerned Boromir alone. Among all the dangers threatening them all, something was awaiting Boromir alone.
Eventually, they came to Lothlórien. The elf queen bade them all come before her one by one. Miroesa had expected to be left out, since she was not a part of the brotherhood, but when she held back, the queen beckoned her closer.
The queen pointed to where she would have her guest look and Miroesa would never have thought to refuse. She looked deeply into the water and – saw – and heard – the queen Galadriel’s voice inside her mind. At first Miroesa could not listen to the relentless voice. Her attention was fixed on the images that passed before her eyes. Boromir – turning traitor – Boromir falling with a multitude of arrows through his chest – Boromir floating down the Anduin, as pale as snow. Miroesa did not know how long it took her to suddenly become aware of what the cool voice was telling her.
”You know what awaits him. You also know what can be done to change the future. I can help you, but if so, you must take his place in the brotherhood.”
She didn’t even hesitate. As she opened her mouth to reply, suddenly the vision had ended and she found herself standing, her back to a tree, knowing that a decision had been made and that she was committed to a course of action. She didn’t know how to follow the elf queen’s bidding. Would the rest of the brotherhood accept her in Boromir’s stead? Would Boromir agree to let her go? Where would he go? Yet, despite all these questions, she never doubted her own destiny. If she could go where Boromir could not, and thus help save him, she would.
It appeared they had been staying in Lothórien far longer than they had believed. When the time came to depart, all wounds were healed and each member of the brotherhood had rested and been fed. The moment Miroesa dreaded did not come. Boromir had clearly been convinced that his road lay elsewhere and did not question the decision of allowing ‘Tanyc Alcarin’ to take Boromir’s place.
Boromir embraced her, away from the others’ prying eyes, then bade her farewell.
”If – when we see each other again, let us hope that our paths will not part again.”
”Watch your back, Boromir. Come back safely.”
”And you, Miroesa. Until we meet again.”
He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, then turned and left. She thought she could guess how he was feeling. If he turned again she would not be able to resist running to him and throwing herself into his arms. But he didn’t turn and she did not run. Forcing down a sigh, instead she followed the rest of the brotherhood.
She followed them to the breakup of the brotherhood, where she fell, senseless, but barely wounded. How long she lay on the ground, while the others dispersed, she did not know, but when she came awake, Strider – Aragorn – was kneeling beside her, tending to her.
”Are you well, Tanyc? Can you stand?”
”Yes, I think so. Thank you, Your Highness.”
”Strider will do, for the time being.”
Miroesa bowed her head in acquiescence. With Boromir gone and the brotherhood dissolved, she had nowhere she had to go. So she would follow in Boromir’s footsteps, track him down and – perhaps their road now lay in a less sinister direction. Unable to follow the brotherhood any longer, Boromir might be heading back to Gondor. If so, that was where her path lay. If not – she would follow him wherever he went.
All she wanted was to go where he went. If he chose to go and fight along the other men of Gondor, so would she. Should that be all that was left to them, she would fight alongside him and if that was their destiny, she would fall where he fell. She wished for nothing more.
FIN
© Tonica