I am Elsamir, youngest child and only daughter of Denethor II, the ruling Steward of Gondor. My brothers are the mighty Boromir, High Warden of the White Tower and Faramir, Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien. My mother Finduilas died not long after I was born so I have no recollection of her; other than what my dear brothers have told me.

The year is T.A 3019 and Boromir has left Minas Tirith for Rivendell, an Elven Outpost for the Council of Lord Elrond. War is upon us and Mordor's power grows stronger every day. Osgiliath, the ancient capital of Gondor my home, was steadily falling to ruin. Before Boromir left, my brothers stood fast against the Orcs of Mordor; all but the West of Osgiliath had fallen.

For many months I had felt something smouldering away with in me, as if I was missing a part of myself, something that needed to be fulfilled. And the time was upon me. This is my tale, of adventure and loss.

"Elsamir!" Faramir shouted as I dismounted my mare Galeth. The smile on my brother's face warmed me from within, it was good to see him happy, but as always you could see in his eyes that something bothered him; a sadness deep and all his own. He was disheartened by our father allowing Boromir to travel to Rivendell in his place, but also by the constant disapproval and on occasion hatred Denethor showed to himself, his youngest son.

"Faramir, it is good to see you, brother." I smiled and embraced him. "Father will be here soon, have you word from Boromir?" I asked hopefully.

"No, I am afraid not." I was worried, ever since Boromir had left, my dreams had been plagued with horrors, many seeing the death of my eldest brother. "How goes your sword practice?" He asked and I smiled.

"Every morning before breakfast and evening before bed, I practice. I think I have become very good." I enthused as Faramir took up a sword and handed it me.

"Good, show me." He commanded. I took my stance and began to dance with the sword, that is how I saw it, dancing steps with a partner that I had to kill. Concentrating, I hadn't seen Faramir draw his sword until it clashed with mine. The clashing of our swords got louder and louder, soon joined by Faramir's hearty laugh.

"What do you think you are doing, Faramir?!" I dropped the sword in shock upon hearing my father shout.

"Father," I bobbed my head. "It was my fault; I took up a sword and made him draw his." I hated for my father to shout and be angry at Faramir, but it seemed he had no love for Faramir; although I couldn't understand why.

"Elsamir, my dear sweet daughter." He took my chin in his hand. His voice was filled with adoration. I had been told I looked like my mother and that was why my father loved me so. "You are a young woman, a sword isn't something you should be learning to use." Then his tone turned icy. "Faramir shames me, by teaching his sister to fight, arming her and filling her with fear."

"But father," I stopped as I saw Faramir shake his head slightly.

"I beg your forgiveness, father, I did not think. I only wanted for her to be safe should anything happen. I promise it will not happen again."

"No, it shall not, Elsamir, you will not visit here. The dangers are bad enough, but I will not let your brother strike your heart with fear."

"But father!"

"No, you are my daughter and will do as told, I will not put you at risk." I turned, anger filling me, and made for the river Anduin. It was where I would sit with Faramir and Boromir and they would tell me tales of war and battle it was a place I felt calm and at peace. I heard Faramir's voice, but my eyes settled on a boat on the shore. It was small and most definitely not made by man; if my teachings were right, it was an Elven boat. Curiosity took me and I found myself moving to the boat, a coldness gripping me. With it came fear. I no longer wanted to look in the boat, but I could not stop myself from moving forward. I was tense and could hear someone shouting, calling my name, but I had reached the boat. My heart stopped for laid at peace in the boat was Boromir. Tears filled my eyes and the world seemed to spin.

"Elsamir!"

"What is…No…NO! My son! My beloved son!" My father's shouts brought me to my senses and I watched as he fell to his knees. Faramir moved to console him, but he wrenched his arm free.

"Elsamir…" Faramir's voice came low and pained.

"Brother, when…"

"This morning, I did not want you to know until I had told father." He pulled me into an embrace.

"Where is the Horn? Boromir always had the Horn of Gondor, we heard it but three days past, why isn't it with him?"

"I do not know." His shoulders slumped. I could hear the sound of feet pounding towards us and saw Beregond, one of my brother's men at the front.

"Attack! There's an attack! Orcs!" Beregond shouted.

"Elsamir, run and hide, do not come out until I come for you. And take this, defend yourself if any find you." He handed me the sword and pushed me to the boat house. I lifted my dress and ran. Father's aids were trying to move him, but he would not leave Boromir.

I crouched behind a chest fear coursing through me yet I felt something change a strange stirring inside me. I heard shouts and screams and war cries. Then the unmistakable voice of one of my father's aids, Eldacar, he called for my brother and screamed in anguish. I could not bear to hide and not know what was happening. I moved from my hiding place and held the sword tightly in my hands. As I looked out I saw my father covering Boromir's body with his own and Eldacar laying slain at the feet of a huge Orc. I didn't think at all, I just acted, I charged at the Orc and thrust my sword into its back. A blood curdling scream escaped its lips and before I could pull back my sword it turned grabbing me by the throat.

"Elsamir!" My father lunged from Boromir, the Orc threw me over the boat that held my brother and into the river. Dripping wet I rushed back grabbing the broadsword that my brother held and as the Orc loomed over my father I jabbed the sword into its head.

"Father, father, are you alright?" I turned to my father who was on his knees in shock.

"Elsamir!" Faramir and seven men ran towards us all with their swords drawn. I started to shiver, my clothes dripping with water. Faramir took in my appearance and pulled off his cloak wrapping it around me.

"I killed it, it was going to kill father." Faramir looked to the sword I held loosely in my hand. The shock from moments ago had gone now something new took me. "Someone needs to take father to safety or back to Minas Tirith; Boromir needs to be seen and given a proper burial."

"Elsamir, what… you heard my sister. Have it done." As they started to move and they led my father away I found myself drifting to the boat and Boromir. I stood looking down upon him. The world had become a cruel and vile place and now my eldest brother had been taken. I lifted his shield and hefted it; it felt good in my hands along with my brother's sword. "Sister, you seem different."

"I've long been sheltered Faramir, you know it and in ways I've allowed fathers treatment to cloak me in an almost childlike wonder. But no longer, I am at the least a shield maiden of Gondor. It is time I acted it, I can use a sword, I can fight and I will.

"Boromir is gone, our people will look to you and me now, we need to be ready for this war. Gondor needs to fight." By the time I had finished speaking, I stood straight and tall, the few of Faramir's men that had come looked at me differently.

"Well then, we shall attend to Boromir's funeral. Then Sauron shall face the wrath of Gondor." The few men cheered their agreement.

A/N: So this is my first LOTR fic, please be gentle I'm trying my best. A huge thank you to my brilliant beta for having the patience to look through my story, correct my grammar and punctuation and set me straight on certain points.