This story is kinda in a series of long one-shots that I am writing for my friends ^^ The first was Eternal Love, and these are still enjoyable stories (I hope! .) It's not like I made them ONLY for my friends to read XD The characters and plots of the stories are not related to each other in one huge story, they are just a collection of different (and long) one-shots. And I am sure I may get some comments like "why is Boromir so accepting when he is supposed to be proud and stuff?" (I know I did get similar ones in Eternal Love) well that is because, as I said, these are written for friends (yes the girls in the one shots are based on them) so romance is the key importance of it; although yes, there is a plot! haha So please review (it would be very much appreciated!) if you like it or have anything to say. Enjoy~!
Must you stare like that? Mary thought angrily, making her way down the streets of Gondor's capital; Minas Tirith. Everywhere she went eyes followed her, and cruel whispers could be heard. It wasn't her fault her father wasn't willing to fight for their city. She was only his daughter, but of course Gondor's citizens included her in the vicious treatment. Usually she ignored them, but today she wasn't in the best mood and returned the gossipers hushed words with harsh glares.
"Finally," the nineteen year old woman thought aloud as she entered the shelter of their families tailor shop; freeing herself from the streets of Gondor with the rude people. Not that they were completely wrong. She was furious that her father wouldn't go to war with the rest of the men as well, furious that he used the excuse of this pathetic tailor shop to stay in Gondor whilst the rest of the men fought for their city. What made her mad was the fact that the citizens included her in the ridicule, lumping her in with her father's lack of bravery and honour.
"Is that you Mary?" her mother called from the store's back room.
"Yes mother," she replied before sighing, "Did you ever think that it could have been a customer?" her mother shrugged as she emerged from the room, a spool of yarn in her hand. Sometimes it seemed as if Mary was the only one with a little caution and common sense around her household sometimes. Yes, the store was also the family's home; the bottom floor contained the tailor shop while the top floor consisted of the kitchen and bedrooms.
"Your father is out on a delivery if you are wondering about his absence," her mother casually informed her, untangling yarn with her long slender hands. Mary didn't reply as she made her way up the stairs in the back that led to the upper level. She knew her father was out in the city on business some way or another whenever he was gone, and really she didn't care about the details; he wasn't in harm anyways, for danger was something he made sure to stay clear of.
"Hello Laraelia," Mary greeted her older sister, who was in the kitchen, preparing some bread dough.
"Hello Mary, how was equestrian training?" Laraelia asked politely, smiling. That was just a fancy name for taking care of horses, whilst learning about them in the process. Every day (save the last day of the week) Mary helped groom, feed, etc., some of Gondor's horses along with some other women. It was a way to make money, even though the amount was small, for her family. But what her family didn't know is that the reason she chose this job is because she wanted to learn more about what the horses would be needed for per say. The horses were often used for battle. Swordsmanship fascinated her, and these expeditions seemed much less boring than life in a slow, struggling tailor's shop in the city. And of course she was fond of the creatures too, their strong build and fast speed seemed just as exciting; although she had never actually been allowed to ride one.
"Fine," Mary replied, trying to hide her scowl. Today the horses had been extremely difficult, kicking up mud in her face, and other troublesome things that did not help her bad mood whatsoever.
She grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter before heading to the room she and her sister shared. Even though the room was plainly designed you could tell what side of the room belonged to whom, if you knew the two girls, at first glance. Laraelia used the left side of the room, it was neat and tidy with a hairbrush, mirror, vase of pink flowers, and parchment laid out neatly on the dresser. Whereas Mary's side was messier, bits of word-filled parchment scattered about, and a box filled with odds and ends placed beside her bed. No pink flowers could be seen on the right side, although an occasional daisy or wild flower was placed somewhere.
Taking a bite of her apple, Mary wandered over to her box, adding a metal embellishment that had fallen off the hilt of a sword she had found today to her collection. The metal piece showed the white tree of Gondor carved into the silver, glinting dull in the almost evening sun that faintly shone through the window.
Mary let out a sigh as she flopped onto her bed, staring up at the white ceiling. She took another bite of her apple and curled onto her side. She just wanted to be able to breathe without any thoughts clouding her mind. But pain, anger, sadness, ignorance, and so much more still flashed through her brain.
"You can eat dinner when you feel like it tonight, mother is busy downstairs, father is still out, and I have already eaten," Laraelia informed her as she entered to room. Mary rolled her eyes at the statement that her mother was busy. She knew well that she was just untangling yarn downstairs in the empty tailor shop. Her sister didn't notice however, for she was at the mirror brushing her long, fair hair. Laraelia could be so oblivious. It's not that Mary didn't love her sister, she did. It's just that she didn't know anything out of her own world, and did not see through the masks people chose to display when their inner emotions would be preferred secret; and didn't question it. Her older sister was the woman female Gondorians were supposed to be; only interested in beauty, household chores, and eventually becoming a mother. Mary, however, had the fascination of a more exciting life, an adventure. Something more than sitting around all day in the city with nothing new or exciting ever happening. And Mary could see through the false faces of people, she had always been good at reading peoples true feelings and emotions; even if they were trying their hardest to hide them.
Looking at the sun out the window, Mary could tell it was late evening. The pink, orange, and purple sky let in a warm fading light from the sliver of what could be seen of the sun.
"I'm going for a walk." Mary told her sister, rising from the bed.
"A walk? But it will be dark soon, and you just got back!" Laraelia exclaimed. Mary simply shrugged and grabbed a warm cloak as she left their room.
Her mother did not notice her leaving, although she was sure Laraelia would tell her soon enough. She silently slipped out the doors and into the fading sky.
She slipped her hood over her head, covering most of her face, and made her way aimlessly down the streets of Gondor. Not many people were out and the few who were did not recognize her so she was spared from unfriendly stares.
Mary found herself near the stables she had been at only an hour earlier. Not making for any particular spot, she decided to wander through the place she worked daily a little. The horses paid her little attention as she walked down the stable isles, for they were used to seeing her. Soon after entering she heard heavy footfalls and equally heavy breathing from the right of the stables; the swords practice area. Mary followed the sound of footsteps and muttered words to a corner. She slowly peaked around to see a man, high in stature no doubt by the looks of his clothing. He had shoulder length slightly wavy hair, and was tall and strongly built. Staying to the shadows, Mary edged her way around the corner and sat cross-legged under the shade of the overhanging roof, her cloak shading her in a barely visible state to anyone passing by. She watched as the man jabbed at the air with his sword, repeating intricate hand motions, twisting the sword this way and that. Every time he faulted in a step he muttered something in an unpleasant tone under his breath, and tried again. She sat there covered by shadows, watching him intently. The man turned his sword in yet another manoeuvre and ended up facing Mary's direction, sword extended. He paused, staring right into where she was sitting, and after what seemed like minutes to Mary, spoke up.
"Show yourself!" he demanded, keeping his sword pointed towards her. Mary rose, and stepped out of the building's shadow. "Remove your hood," the man said, and Mary obeyed, throwing her cloak hood back to fully reveal her face. "A woman!" The man seemed surprised but quickly regained his composure. "And what might a woman be doing out here so close to dark?"
"Walking," she replied bluntly, staring at the sword. He then realized he was still aiming the sword at her and tentatively lowered it, but kept his hand on the hilt.
"What is your name?" he questioned once more.
"I am Mary," she replied, not adding her last name. "My father owns a tailor shop in east Minas Tirith," she frowned at these words, not wanting to bring up her father.
"That still does not explain why you are out here."
"I work here often, I felt like walking and I just came here." Mary paused. "You still haven't told me your name." She knew she should probably be more respectful but she didn't like the man's interrogating questions and how long it had took him to lower his sword.
"Boromir, son of Denethor Steward of Gondor," he replied proudly. So he's the Stewards eldest son, Boromir. Mary thought. She had heard of his name before; as had every Gondor citizen.
Mary nodded before turning to leave.
"You're going?" Boromir asked confused.
"Yes, it seems I should not be here anyways. Besides, I'm bored and a little hungry," she said without turning, continuing to walk away. Boromir was surprised at her bluntness, and the fact she didn't react to the fact he was Gondor's future heir. He simply stared at Mary's back as she left.
Mary yawned as she made her way back down the stone streets under the dark sky. It had been a long day and was starting to catch up on her, the walk back seemed so much longer than the one there as she grew wearier with every step.
When she arrived home the lights were out, not a single candle lit. Passing her parents room at the top of the stairs she heard a light snoring coming from behind the door. Silently in the dark, Mary made her way to the kitchen and cut a slice off a loaf of bread. Too tired to prepare a real meal, she soon found her way to her bedroom. After changing into a light nightgown she slipped under the bed covers, careful not to wake her sister who was asleep in a bed less than a meter away from hers. Mary felt even more tied as she laid her head on the soft pillow; she closed her eyes and let sleep take over.
"Mary, Mary!" Mary was awoken to her sister leaning over her, shaking her now awake body.
"Laraelia? What's wrong?" She muttered and rubbed her eyes. She guessed she had only gotten an hour of sleep in; this better be important.
"The soldiers have been summoned, word has arrived that troops are on their way to attack Rohan!"
"Rohan? How much do you know? Tell me everything!" Mary ordered urgently. Her sister told her that the enemy troops would probably reach Rohan in a matter of days, and that the messenger that brought this news was from Rohan, they needed Gondor's help. Rohan and Gondor had always helped each other in battles and wars and such, it was an agreement made long ago.
As soon as Laraelia was finished Mary bounded down the stairs to see her mother and father.
"Mary, you're awake," her father said gently as he looked up to see her. "Go back to sleep darling, you don't have to worry."
"Of course. Because you aren't leaving to help Rohan and fight in the name of Gondor! Instead you will sit here in our little tailor shop like you always do! It doesn't even make enough money! Is this just an excuse so you can stay here in Gondor, safe?" Mary snapped at her father. But before he could reply she ran back upstairs, leaving him sitting at the table, eyes wide.
Laraelia had gone downstairs when she heard yelling so when Mary reached her room she was alone. As quick as she could she pulled on her warmest clothes with lots of layers. As she dressed she bound a white cloth tightly around her upper body, concealing her breasts underneath the thick clothes. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and hesitated before cutting her waist-length hair to just above her shoulders and tying it roughly in a low ponytail.
"Mary?" she heard her sister's voice softly calling from downstairs. Silently she slipped out the bedroom window and landed with a thud. Not bothering to look back, Mary took off in a sprint back towards the stables she had been at only hours ago. If her father wasn't going to fight than she would; just because her father was scared did not mean she had to sit around helpless while the men of Gondor were off fighting.
As she arrived at the stables, Mary hurriedly brushed some dirt across her face to conceal even more of her true identity in the black night. Shouts of, "More horses will be arriving from the South stables soon!" and "Carry what you can, but do not travel heavily!" could be heard over the sounds of horses and scrambling men. Lowering her head, Mary made her way through the crowd of soldiers towards the forgery. Silver-clad men were lined up to retrieve swords and shields; though some had their own and did not need much. Mary reached the font of the line and was handed a sword and shield.
"Do you not have your armour?" The man who had given her the weapons asked her with a questioning look.
"This is my first battle, and I have not been given any armour yet," Mary lied quickly, deepening her voice. Well it was technically true, it's just she wasn't ever supposed to have a first battle. The man shook his head, and left towards the back rooms. He returned with a suit of armour and a helmet. The armour was silver, with only chainmail in some parts, and the helmet was slightly large for the woman's head but it would have to do.
Mary was surprised none of the men had noticed her as a woman yet; but the heavy clothing, dirt-brushed face, cut hair, and darkness of the night most likely helped.
Sheathing her swords in her belt, Mary made her way to the back of the forgery, covered by shadows. She quickly changed into her armour; keeping her cloak over top, and placing the rest of her clothes into a cloth sack she had brought.
More horses had appeared when she left the shadows behind the forgery and made her way to the stables. The horses from the South Stables must have been brought. How am I supposed to get a horse, just take one? Mary thought as she stumbled through the crowd of men, trying to avoid being trampled. She pushed her way by two men and suddenly she saw to rearing hooves above her. She shielded her face, bracing herself for the impact but a strong arm swiftly pulled her aside.
"Watch where you're going, if you can't even survive here you will not have a chance on the battlefield," her saviour snapped. She looked up to see Boromir, still gripping her arm tightly. She prayed he wouldn't recognize her and it seemed he didn't, for he let go of her without recognition. "Here," he thrust the reins of one of the two horses he was holding at her. She took them and was about to apologize before he jumped on his steed and rode away; leaving her standing in the crowd with her new found horse. Shaking her head as if to clear her mind, Mary hopped up onto the horse, holding the reins firmly. She remembered this horse; it was from these stables for she often cared for it. It seemed to recognize her as well because it didn't protest when she lightly tapped her heels into its sides. The creature slowly trotted out of the crowded stables, only to meet a larger crowd of men. They all mirrored her in the darkness; mounted and silver trees shining on their armour.
"To the gates! We leave soon," Boromir said from the front of the crowd; he was the Captain of Gondor's army. Beside him was Faramir, his younger brother. He turned and rode off, many armed men following him. Mary followed on her horse, not very happy she would have to take orders from Boromir. But he did save my life, her thoughts conflicted. She shrugged it off and focused only on the reins in her hands.
Women called goodbyes to their husbands and laid flowers in the road as they trotted through the streets. Mary's family was nowhere to be seen; she hoped they assumed she was only going for a walk to calm her anger, and did not suspect her true intentions when she left.
Soon enough all of the soldiers reached the gates. Boromir started in a pep talk in front of the crowd of men. Mary listened for important parts, such as battle strategy, but he only was encouraging and warning them; she assumed that important details would be discussed later on. And with that, they were off.
They traveled for what Mary guessed was about an hour before they stopped briefly.
"Now that we are out of the city and all its ears," Boromir started just loud enough for everyone to hear, "I will tell you our path to Rohan. Although loud voices are not welcome, for the wild has its ears as well. We make for Edoras, Rohan's capital. To get there we will follow the Eastfold, along the mountains. Little water will be available to us unless it rains so ration your supply. Same applies to food, although if needed we may find meat. The journey to Edoras will likely be over the course of two nights, this one included."
"Will we travel until the next night?" a man asked from the front of the group.
"No, dawn is still far, we will travel a while longer and then rest until morning," Boromir answered. No one else asked any questions so they continued on. The sound of the horses clopping hooves against the rocky ground seemed immensely loud in the silence of the night.
They did not stop until they had traveled twice the distance of the first time they had briefly halted. They had chosen to rest under a large stone mountain overhang. But even so, only half the camp was covered by the rocky roof. Mary yawned as she hopped down from her horse and tied it loosely to a tree. She hadn't got much sleep that night at all and was looking forward to rest, even if it would be a brief one.
"Fool!" Mary hissed under her breath as she realized she had not remembered to bring a blanket. Looking around she saw all the other men had covering and cursed herself once more. She walked back to her horse and grabbed the bag with her clothes. Cover, cover. Mary thought as she looked around for a place to change. She spotted a deep jut in the mountain wall and quickly concealed herself in it. Mary stripped off her armour and put on all her warm layers before heading back to the rest of the men. The night was cold and windy; Mary lowered herself onto the stone ground closest to the mountain in hope of shielding herself from the breeze. Wrapping her cloak around her, she laid down on the cold, hard ground and closed her eyes. Although she was freezing and uncomfortable, Mary fell asleep quickly from sheer exhaustion.
Boromir scowled as he woke up to see a dark sky above him. He tried to shut his eyes and return to his slumber but sleep would not come. With a sigh, he slowly stood up and carefully stepped around the blanket-covered men around him. But as he was making his way around the sleeping figures he saw that there was one that was uncovered. Even in their sleep he could see them shivering, arms tightly holding their cloak around their body. As he got closer they rolled over, eyes still closed. That face, he thought. He knew the face from somewhere but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. All of the sudden his eyes widened in recognition.
"It can't be…" he thought aloud. Now that he looked closely, it was not a man's face. This face belonged to the woman he had met earlier. What was her name, Mary! He clearly remembered the defiant woman, somehow this seemed like something she would do. Boromir was about to awake her when he paused. Why would she come in the first place? He remembered her saying that her father ran a tailor shop in east Minas Tirith; scowling at the mention of it. He had heard of her father, never fighting alongside the rest of the Gondor men; many despised him for that. Maybe she was trying to prove that she was not cowardly as he was, stronger and more loyal. Or maybe she truly wanted to fight for their city. He suspected both.
Either way he still had to wake her.
"Mary," he said as he lightly shook her sleeping form.
"Who's there!" the woman exclaimed as she shot up, eyes wide. Her eyes grew even larger as she turned in her sitting position to see Boromir staring down at her. He knows, he called me by my name and heard my voice.
"Mary," Boromir quietly said as she stood up, "I think I know why you came." He told her his guesses and throughout them Mary just stood there listening. When he was finished she nodded from their place on the ground; for somewhere along the conversation they had both sat down, leaning against the stone wall.
"Exactly. I'm not like him; I want to fight in Gondor's name and not just sit around helpless in Minas Tirith." She said solemnly, determination burning in her eyes.
"I, I understand." Boromir was even a little but surprised at his words, but seeing the begging, determines look on her face he couldn't deny. She deserved a chance to fight for her city and prove her bravery (although he already believed it).
Mary opened her mouth to say something, but then closed at and simply gave him a huge smile instead. Her grin was broken with a yawn, her eyes fighting to stay open through her tiredness.
"Sleep, you will need the rest for tomorrow," Boromir said softly. Mary nodded and curled up on the ground, wrapping her cloak around her. Boromir frowned; she still didn't have a blanket. Slowly he got up and fetched his blanket from where he had been sleeping. When he arrived back to where Mary lay, he saw that she was already asleep. He chuckled to himself and laid his blanket over her sleeping form. Glancing once more at the woman, he retreated to his place beside his brother and fell asleep on the ground, thinking of the woman he had only just met but had already managed to pleasantly confuse him.
"Ahh," Mary let out a sigh as she stretched in the morning sun. Looking down in her lap, she saw a green blanket covering her. Confused, she glanced around but only saw the rest of the men, still all sleeping. The sun was just high enough to be seen through the breaks in the mountains, but lit up the day in a pale, warm light.
Mary made her way over the sleeping bodies, looking for their captain. She spotted him close by and carefully stepped over to where he lay. As she got closer she saw that he was uncovered, with no blanket sprawled over his sleeping body. He must have seen that I did not have a blanket and given me his, Mary thought, standing over the still-asleep man.
"Wake up!" She said and no-so-lightly kicked him.
"What the-" Boromir sat up with a jolt, looking up to see a smiling Mary.
She had to hold in her laughter seeing his surprised face, but held out her hand to help him up.
"I should have known it would be you," Boromir sighed as he got up, not taking Mary's hand but he couldn't help but smile a little at her. He was about to ask her if she was the only one awake when he was cut off by her lips meeting his. Mary lightly kissed him, stretching up on her toes to reach his face.
"Thank you," she smiled at him and handed him the blanket he had given her, walking away leaving him shocked. However as he watched her go, a smile formed on his lips and it stayed there as he began to wake up the other men.
Mary looked back to see Boromir beside his brother, Faramir, waking him from his slumber. She saw that Boromir was grinning, which only made Mary smile more.
Soon all of the men were awake and preparing to continue on once more. Mary still was disguised as a man, for she wasn't sure she wanted all of the men to know her true identity just yet.
Mary was untying her horse along with most of the other men. "Come on…" she paused, her horse had not been named yet, "I suppose I had better name you, hmm?" Mary said to the horse. The creature was male, it had a brown coat that turned to black halfway down it's legs. War horse's mains were usually braided but this one's was long and flowing, and Mary preferred it that way. "I know, how about Tilion?" She asked him. Tilion nuzzled her face with his nose in response. "Alright, Tilion it is then!" She led the steed by his reins away from the tree and hoped up onto his back, her pack of clothing behind her; for she had already changed into her armour quickly before Boromir had woken all the men.
Trotting through the crowd she spotted Boromir on his horse, trying to hurry the others up.
"Make haste, we do not have time to spare!" he was shouting.
"Hey grumpy," Mary teased as she trotted over on Tilion towards him.
"I am not grumpy," he protested, his face was almost a pout, making Mary laugh and Boromir very confused.
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
"Nevermind," she giggled.
"You sound awfully different than most of the men I have met," a man said to Mary as he approached them on his horse. Mary face-palmed; she had forgotten to lower her voice. I had hoped to remain unnoticed as a woman for a while longer, she thought.
"That is because I am no man," she told him.
"A woman? Lord Boromir, did you know of this?" the man asked.
"Yes, I learned of it recently. It will not be an issue, she is coming, and fighting, with us," he told him sternly, piercing the man with an almost-glare.
"But-" the man said, he was really starting to get on Mary's nerves.
"No further oppositions to the matter, for you do not have say," Boromir cut him off sternly, it seemed the man was getting on his nerves as well. Mary was happy Boromir stood up for her, happy how he fought for her to be here, even if she was a woman. The man said no more, and no one else (for they had all turned to watch when they heard the man's exclamation of Mary's true self) dared to speak against them either.
And with that they were off again. The large group of well over three hundred traveled along the Eastfold on their horses. The mountainous area did not change, with the exception of a few trees or shrubs here and there. Mary was in the middle of the crowd and could not see Boromir from her position. She longed to ride beside him, although she hated to admit it. Some of the men would glance her way, mostly she ignored them but when their eyes did meet they quickly turned to glares.
"I wonder how long it will take for them to just accept that I am not leaving," she muttered under her breath, slightly annoyed.
When they stopped the sky had already passed its pink-orange sunset and turned to a blue-black colour; no stars to be seen in the darkness of the night.
"We leave at sunrise," Boromir told the men, "rest, for tomorrow we reach Edoras." Mary was thankful for this break, they had not stopped for food the entire day and her stomach constantly growled in protest. Even the bland bread and dried meat tasted good.
"How is defying the rules and travelling on this journey to fight coming along?" Boromir asked with a joking smirk, sitting down beside Mary as she tore off a piece of the stiff meat.
"Tolerable," she replied curtly, chewing on her food. Why was he talking to her anyways? She was happy, it's just the shock of his acceptance had not worn off yet. She would have expected him to become angry and send her back, at the least. But he did not seem mad, or even annoyed. And she did catch him smiling after their kiss…
"You have pleasantly surprised me," she said absentmindedly.
"And you have pleasantly confused me," he replied. Mary didn't know what to say to this, so she just smiled and chewed another mouthful of the stale bread.
"You still do not have a blanket," Boromir said, not asking a question.
"No," Mary replied, her face looking rather guilty.
"You'll freeze without one," Boromir's grey eyes showed concern as he stared into her blue ones
"As will you," she retorted. Mary remembered how he had given her his blanket the night he had discovered that she was a woman; she didn't want him to have to sacrifice his warmth for her again.
"I am aware of that," Boromir said, letting his eyes wander away from her and instead inspecting the small rocks at their feet.
"What do you-" Mary started but was cut off with a yawn. The long day of travelling was starting to catch up, and a sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over her. Boromir smiled and shook his head, standing up and taking Mary's hand in the process.
"Come, my tired little fighter," he said as he led her, still holding her hand.
"I'm not little!" she pouted, "You're just really tall." Boromir did not reply but only laughed and led her over to where his things lay. Most of the men were finished eating and were settling down for sleep. Boromir released her hand and allowed her to sit down as he took out his large blanket and lay it out.
"Boromir, can't I just go to sleep? I don't have time for whatever you're doing…" she trailed off, eyelids drooping.
"You can sleep, by the looks of it you greatly need the rest," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers once more.
"You don't…" Mary's eyes widened as she realized what he meant.
"You know you do not have a covering, and it is cold weather, especially during the night," Boromir argued. Mary knew he was right, however she could feel her face flush as she crawled under the warm cover. Mary felt her face grow even hotter as he climbed under with her, pressing his warm body close to hers to fit under the blanket. A few men glanced their way, but thought better of it and left to get some sleep of their own.
"Sleep," Boromir whispered gently as another yawn escaped Mary's lips. She felt warm and safe as the man wrapped his strong arms around her, keeping out the cold. It was almost impossible to keep her eyes open, even with Boromir so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She snuggled closer into Boromir's hold, and fell asleep with a content smile on her face.
"Come on, the sooner we start the sooner we arrive," a voice woke Mary from her slumber. She mumbled and rubbed her eyes. Standing beside her, looking down was Boromir. She frowned, how long have I been asleep alone? Did he leave me in the night? Seeming to understand what she was thinking just by looking in her eyes, Boromir said:
"I woke up ten minutes ago and was careful not to wake you, most of the other men are up now." She smiled, so he really had stayed with her the while night. Now in a happy mood, Mary hopped to her feet and left to fetch her horse whilst Boromir sent someone to hurry the rest of the men along. She hummed a tune to which the words she did not remember, a song she had heard somewhere that just stuck. The singing seemed to calm Tilion. Her horse had been anxious when she had found him this morning, but that mood was now replaced with a calm state. Mary noticed this, and continued on humming as she packed up her few belongings and climbed up onto Tilion's back.
"We will reach Edoras before sunset, and hopefully before the enemy," Boromir informed the soldiers. He was almost positive that the enemy was at least a day's behind from what he had heard, but he did not know for certain. The men all nodded, most anxious to get there, so they quickly set off galloping along the mountain edge.
As they travelled, more grass became present, almost fully replacing the rocky ground of the mountains. Mary was grateful for this, as it meant a smoother ride, as was Tilion. Boromir led them deeper into the grassy earth and strayed away from the mountains slightly. Soon a blurred city could be seen in the distance. As they got closer she could make out the roofs of houses, and in the center of those stood a great stone hall, etched with gold. A great wall surrounded everything.
"Edoras," she could hear some men whisper. They rode on towards the city, passing green mounds covered with tiny white flowers. As they passed them, Boromir and most of the men bowed their heads respectfully; seeing this, Mary lowered her head as well. When they reached the gates, two guards clad in silver mail jumped to their feet.
"We come from Gondor at your request, to aid you in this time of need," Boromir told the men.
"Welcome, Boromir son of Denethor. We have been awaiting your arrival." The tallest guard greeted.
"And what of the enemy?" Boromir questioned.
"They have not arrived yet, more information will be given within the gates," they replied. Boromir nodded and the large gates were opened wide. The posts were also thatched with gold. The soldiers poured through, trotting onto a large stone path, leading through the city. They passed homes made of dark wood, and further on a stream that flowed in the direction of the Entwash (note: the Entwash is a river that leads by the Fangorn Forest, for more information see Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers).
"Halt," Boromir signalled for the soldiers to stop with a raised hand. "I will greet Théoden King, wait for my orders here." He dismounted and handed the reins if his horse to his brother, and second in command, Faramir. There were pillars by the gates, thatched with gold as the front gates were. When the large doors were opened for Boromir to enter, Mary only caught a glimpse of the interior before they were quickly sealed once more.
Patiently on their horses the Gondorians waited. No voices could be heard through the thick stone walls, all was silent except for the steady flow of the nearby river.
Not too long later the doors opened once more, Boromir emerging from the hall.
"Mary, come with me," he motioned for her to follow. What, why could I possibly be needed? Mary thought, confused, as she left her horse with the guards and followed Boromir through the gates and into the wide hall. The doors made a loud echoing sound as they closed behind them. The hall had many pillars, and was made of stones of many different colors, and of course with gold as well. Carpets hung upon the walls, tapestries that showed many a different scene. A cool light poured in through the high windows, making the gold shine in the sun.
"This is the woman?" A tall man, sitting on a raised throne asked. He had a sword in his belt, and a long flowing cape. Mary bowed in the presence of who she assumed was Théoden, king of Rohan.
"I had to inform him of you and your intentions, I will do my best to insure your place with the soldiers, but ultimately it is his decision as well," Boromir quietly told her. At first she was angry that he had told the king, but she soon realized it was the honourable thing to do, and that she wanted to be allowed to fight, officially.
"The same reasons as every other man soldier of Gondor, I want to fight in my countries name, the fact that I am a woman does not change my bravery or honour," she answered firmly.
"A woman with no training would be of no use on the battle field, you would most likely be slain instantly," Théoden said from his seat at the front of the hall.
"I may have been born a woman but I can still fight like a man. I have often observed the way of the sword, and am strong enough to defend myself and slay others," Mary said with determination. "For one to die for their country, they must first fight for it. I am not afraid of death. Please Théoden King, allow me to fight alongside the rest of my country."
"This one has a strong heart, that can easily be seen," Théoden laughed, to the surprise of Mary and Boromir. "I will permit you to fight if that is your wish. The loyalty that burns inside of you may very well be stronger than many of the men."
Mary nodded in thanks and could not help but smile. She turned to Boromir to see a small grin creep on his face as well.
"Preparations for housing and meal have been made. Garadyn will lead you there," at these words a man who appeared from the left of the hall. They bid farewell to Théoden for the time being and followed Garadyn out the great doors, back to meet the rest of their army.
When they left the Great Hall and joined the troops, Boromir and Mary both retrieved their horses. Boromir motioned for all to follow as Garadyn led them through the streets of Rohan. Very few were seen in Edoras, although all the homes looked occupied; with candles lit and clothes hung out to dry.
"Where are all Edoras' citizens? Are they all hidden in the comfort of their homes, or simply absent from Rohan itself?" Mary boldly asked from her place beside Boromir.
"They do not reside in Edoras," Garadyn answered. "We are expecting attack soon, so they evacuated to holds underground in other parts of Rohan."
Mary nodded and did not ask any more questions. She instead pondered how long they would have before battle, and how strong the enemy forces would be, and if she would survive, if Boromir would survive. She shook these thoughts out of her head as they reached a large stone castle. It was low in height, but when they entered they saw a large hall, food spread among many tables. The younger soldier's eyes widened and mouths watered as they beheld the piles of food; although they tried their best to hide it. Mary had the same reaction, for as the younger soldiers, she was not used to the journeys; with little sleep and an even smaller amount of food.
"You may eat here," Garadyn explained. "When you have finished the tables will be cleared and you will sleep in here, I hope that is suitable, for we are not as large as Gondor as you may be used to."
"It is more than enough, thank you," Boromir replied. Garadyn nodded and left them to their dinner. Mary was shocked once more. Even though she knew him now, she couldn't help but be shocked when he acted like this. She had always thought of him as the proud, spoiled, Steward's son. But now she saw that he could be generous, kind, and understanding. Boromir noticed her thoughtful expression that soon turned into a smile.
"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously. Mary just shook her head and took his hand, leading him to a table close to the large, stone fireplace at the end of the hall. Boromir was still puzzled, but he knew how stubborn Mary was, so let it go.
"Hungry, Milady?" Boromir asked as they took a seat at the table.
"Are you not?" she asked, eyes widening slightly. "And don't call me that."
"What? Milady?"
"Yes that," she replied fixing him with a menacing stare. Boromir shrugged and began to fill the plate that was in front of him; Mary soon doing the same. The food tasted even better than it usually would have, for they were all extremely hungry. Nobody talked much, for they were busy filling their stomachs. However Boromir did end up introducing Mary to Faramir. They talked a little, and Faramir didn't seem to be angry she was here; they had gotten along quite well actually.
"So how long do you think we have before the battle?" Mary asked, glancing from Faramir to Boromir.
"I do not know, I hope we do get a night's sleep in, though it seems doubtful," Boromir frowned, lost in thought. Just then the doors were opened and about ten men filed in. They looked around, and seeing that everyone was finished eating, started to clear the tables away. The horses had been taken to the stables before they had eaten, but the men retrieved their belongings from them first. Soon the hall was cleared of tables, and littered with green and brown blankets. Mary, Boromir, and Faramir had set up theirs close to the warm fire. Before everyone drifted off to sleep, Boromir stood, facing the hall of men.
"I do not know for certain when the enemy will reach Edoras. I do hope to be able to sleep through the night, but there is a good chance we might not." Boromir told the men. "Have your armour and weapons ready at all times, for we may need to ready ourselves for battle quickly in the night. We fight for not only Rohan, but for Gondor as well; keep the name of Gondor strong and do not fail these people," and with that, along with nods from the soldiers, the hall fell into a much needed sleep.
Red walls, red-covered ground, red about the streets. The fiery colour splashed against Minas Tirith's white canvas. The air seemed so cold, so cold; cold like the pale skin of the bodies that littered the streets and fields. She was only aware of the sword hilt she gripped in her hand as she ran; red and white whizzing past her vision. Why was she running? To escape the pain, the danger, to find the ones she loved? No, it was to find anyone, any sign of life. To find a body that is warm and alive. But all she could see was dead bodies, dead faces, pale hands. Running, running… a figure, splashed with red, jumped out in front of her path. She did not move. For as the figure raised his sword above his head, she thought; "why do I care if I die now? Everyone, everyone is gone. My white city has fallen as have the ones I love. Maybe… maybe it would be best to die…"
Mary woke with a start, clutching her heavily beating heart. Breathe, deep breaths. She told herself, fighting to slow her accelerated breaths. Just a dream, just a dream. You're not even in Minas Tirith. Mary went through facts in her mind as she usually did to bring herself back from the nightmares. You are fighting with Gondor men to defend Rohan. You are currently in Edoras. Minas Tirith is far away and safe. Her heart slowed and she closed her eyes.
"Mary?" a familiar voice asked, squinting through the darkness at her. Boromir sat up and inched closer to her. He was close enough now to see her face, pale and distressed. She must have had a nightmare, he thought. He wrapped his arms around her slightly shaking form. She said nothing but leaned her head into his chest.
"We'll be okay, right?" Mary whispered into his shirt. This took him aback, Mary always seemed so ready to fight, brave and not afraid. He stroked her hair and whispered back,
"I promise." Mary nodded and let him hold her as she closed her eyes. She hadn't meant to, but soon Mary fell asleep in his arms. Boromir silently chuckled, Mary could never stay awake long. So there they sat in the hall, Mary's sleeping figure rested in Boromir's arms.
The doors made a huge echoing BANG! as they were thrown open. Boromir looked up to see three men. The loud noise woke up the rest of the soldiers too, including Mary. She opened her eyes to see Boromir's face, then turned her head to listen to the now booming voices.
"They will be here soon!" one of the men at the door called. "From far they can be seen advancing over the plains. Prepare your-"
"We know what to do," Boromir cut him off. The men nodded and left the soldiers to prepare. All at once the hall was all up and bustling around; putting on armour, getting their swords, fetching the horses. Mary put her armour overtop of what she had been sleeping in, for there was no time to find a place to change. She grabbed her sword and ran outside to meet Tilion. She was about to mount him when Boromir grabbed her arm.
"You will be on top of the gates, shooting from above," he firmly informed her.
"What? I don't even have a bow and arrow," Mary contradicted.
"They will supply you with one," he said quickly.
"And I assume you are riding out to the fields to meet the enemy and fight then?" Mary asked sharply, Boromir just looked at her and she knew that she was correct. "Why can't I fight! You said I was brave and should be allowed to fight but you never really meant it did you?" Mary yelled, fuming.
"Mary," Boromir looked into her eyes as he softly said her name. "I need you to be safe. I know you deserve a chance to fight, and that you can. But I can't risk having you meet them head on," his eyes pleaded that she would understand, that she wouldn't be mad; and Mary could see this, she could also see the love that filled them.
Mary sighed, then nodded. She went to turn away, heading for the gate walls, when Boromir caught her arm once more. "What is it Boromir?" She turned her head to face him, and his lips crashed into hers. She let him pull her closer and deepen the kiss.
"This won't be the last time we see each other," Boromir promised as they parted and he gazed down into her eyes. She nodded before he let go and turned, hopping up on his horse and riding away. Mary watched him go, and prayed that his words stayed true.
"Well, you might as well stay close to me," Mary told Tilion, taking hold of his reins. She walked with him through the streets, bustling with soldiers, heading in the direction of the front gates. And as Boromir had said, there were bows being distributed by the stairs that led up to the top wall of the gates. Mary took one, ignoring the man's stare, and left Tilion at the bottom of the inside wall.
Looking out at the fields of Rohan, Mary positioned herself along the front of the wall. She was many heights of men above the ground, and wondered how good her aim would be when shooting down. The noise and clatter of bustling men had died down now, and an eerie silence filled Edoras. Squinting, Mary could see what looked like a line of black, advancing towards them. As they got closer Mary could make out hundreds of armed men, some on horses and others on foot. I never did ask Boromir who these enemies were, and why, Mary remembered. Well it didn't matter, whoever they were they were against Rohan; a city Gondor had long helped and befriended, and a city that helped Gondor when they needed it as well. Seeing the troops grow closer, Mary instinctively tightened her grip on the bow. Glancing to the side, she could see the men's determined, solemn faces, and she wondered if they felt the queasy feeling of waiting on the edge of a battle that she felt in her own stomach.
"Boromir…" she heard herself whisper. She hadn't meant to say her thoughts aloud, but she couldn't help but worry about him. She shook her head; Focus, you need to survive for him, and you need to be able to kill as many of the enemy as you can so he will have a better chance. You need to prove… her thoughts trailed off. What was she trying to prove? That she wasn't like her father? It was that at first, but now that she thought about it that was not her only reason for fighting. Mary wanted to fight in the name of Gondor, and show that even though she was a woman she could fight alongside the rest of the men. "Even if I do die, I will not regret coming." She had said this to Faramir last night when Boromir left briefly to talk with some of the other men. He told her he understood, and even though his situation differed form hers, he felt the same way.
Mary's memories were disturbed by the soldiers fitting arrows into their bows. The ground tremored slightly with the stomping feet of the approaching soldiers. Mary fit an arrow into her bow, but hesitated to draw it. They were so close now; the troops of Rohan and Gondor had assembled in front of Edoras' wall, mounted on great horses. The stomping continued until they came just pass shooting distance of Edoras. A man in front, whom Mary assumed to be the leader, raised his hand in signal to halt. It was dead silent and the gut wrenching feeling in Mary's stomach grew as the atmosphere tensed. It seemed like an eternity before the head leader let out a cry, echoed by the rest of the enemy soldiers; charging swiftly towards them. Cries erupted from the men of Gondor and Rohan, and Mary let out one of her own. Arrows rained down from the tall walls of Edoras, some of the charging men fell, trampled by horses. Upon this first assault, the defenders of Rohan sped out to meet the enemy on horses; spears extended in front of them. From her place upon the wall, Mary could make out Boromir in front of the charging soldiers; he quickly speared three men already and was fighting well. She quickly snapped her attention back to the fields and shot down at the closest enemy to her, hitting him under the arm where the armour was weak; causing him to fall from his horse. But soon both troops mixed together in battle, and Mary could no longer distinguish her fellow soldiers from the enemy. Scanning the crowd for easy targets she spotted Boromir, a mounted soldier knocked him off his horse with the end of his spear; sending him flying to the ground.
"BOROMIR!" Mary screamed above the crashing of swords and battle cries. Throwing her bow to the ground, Mary sprinted down the gate stairs. Luckily Tilion had stayed where she left him; heaving herself onto his back Mary unsheathed her sword and galloped towards the gates. But of course they were closed and Mary cursed herself for not realizing this sooner. Mary searched her brain for a way out, and remembered the river they had passed when they first entered Edoras. Of course! The river flowed through Edoras and met the plains, and further on, the Entwash. So it must lead out somewhere! Charging off at full speed Mary found the thin river and followed it south. She soon came to an archway in the surrounding wall, sealed by metal bars.
"Come on boy!" She cried at her horse, directing him towards the arch. Tilion seemed to understand, and whinnied loudly; rearing on his back hooves and kicking down two metal bars. Mary punched her fist into the air and let out a triumphant yell as she rode through the opening.
Following the side of the wall, she soon met up at the battle and didn't hesitate charging into the bloody crowd. Mary slew a man who had slashed his sword at her as she rode though the fighting crowd, shaking the blood of her sword. Frantically she searched the crowd for Boromir. Please don't be dead, please don't be dead. Close in front of her she spotted a man fighting by sword on foot, struggling to avoid being trampled; Boromir. She dug her heels into Tilion's side urging him to go faster. Grabbing his hand, she grunted as she pulled Boromir up onto her horse in mid-gallop; slicing his attacker with her sword as she rode by.
"Mary!" Boromir yelled from behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your butt!" She called back. "Now help me!" Boromir raised his sword and sliced down enemy soldiers as she rode through the crowd, forcing a pathway. Together Mary and Boromir made a good team. Mary focused more on steering Tilion, occasionally slicing down a few men, and Boromir focused more on the killing; considering he was more trained in battle anyways.
When Boromir went to spear a mounted enemy soldier, the man caught him with his sword across the arm, causing Boromir to lose his balance. But Mary knocked the man off his gorse with her sword and grabbed Boromir's arm; hauling him up.
"Boromir lose some weight!" She grunted, struggling to pull him firmly upright on the horse.
"I am not overweight," Boromir said, almost pouting, as he sat up.
"Sure you're not," Mary retorted sarcastically, followed with a laugh. Just then a great horn sounded, and the enemy's soldiers turned and galloped away. The ones on foot did not survive long, and from the men of Gondor and Rohan erupted cheers of victory. Edoras had not been breached, the people were safe. Boromir yelled a cheer of his own and laughed along with Mary.
"How is defying the rules and travelling on this journey to fight coming along?" Boromir joked. Mary remembered the first time he had said that to her, it was the night before they had shared a blanket.
Smiling, Mary replied "Tolerable," as she had before. "So now what?" she asked after the noise of cheers had died down. "We just go back?"
"Yes…" Boromir paused, picking her up bridal-style and hopping down from the horse. "Will your parents be worried?"
She shrugged. "Probably, but it doesn't really matter. I fought, and we won. And I… I met you," Mary smiled up into his grey eyes.
"And having met you is the greatest victory I could have asked for," he smiled back, then leaned in and kissed her softly, but passionately. Mary leaned her head into his chest, and too tired to walk, let his carry her back through the battle field; back home, back to a life with Boromir she never expected, but would love every minute of.