Battle of the Brave Part I: Lady of Gondor

Summary: The tenth member of the Fellowship. Boromir's wife. Nienor never knew what to expect the night she left Gondor and followed her husband to Rivendell, but never knew of the trouble and heartbreak she would face when she joined him in the quest to destroy the One Ring.

Rating: M for mature themes, adult situations and later chapters.

Pairing: Boromir/OC.

Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, nor do I claim to. This is made purely because I wanted to write it. I do own Nienor of Gondor and a number of other OCs. I do realise that Boromir did not have a wife, but this has been changed to suit the story. Written for pure fun and enjoyment.

Feedback: Is greatly appreciated, but no harsh flames please. I try my best at writing and wish only to have those who enjoy it, reading it.

A/N: To anyone interested I have a video that goes with each of the stories written in this trilogy. The first can be found on YouTube under the name Battle of the Brave Part I: Lady of Gondor FanficTrailer

- - -

Chapter One - July 2nd, 3018 of the Third Age


The City of Minas Tirith. My home. I have lived here for the past two and a half years. Seven circular levels, each higher than the next- at which the top level stands seven hundred feet above the ground. Each level is enclosed by strong stone walls. The main wall on the first level- known as the City Wall or Othram- was especially high and thick. It is considered to be unbreachable, its hard, smooth surface is very similar to that of Orthanc. The Great Gate on the first level faces eastward. A gate can be found on every level with a main zigzags road to connect them.

n the eastern side of the Hill of Guard, a bastion of stone rises from behind the Great Gate up to the seventh level. This stone outcrop bisects the second through sixth levels, and large tunnels are carved into it to allow the main roadway to past through. The sight is absolutely breathtaking on the seventh level and it was no wonder why the city had been built in this place, I come here often to write and think. The city down below is full by this time - high noon - of the day, and this is the quietest place within the walls. The top of the stone outcrop forms a battlement. At the far end of the battlement is an opening in the wall and a stone seat for people to look down at the Great Gate and out over Pelennor Fields.

There are many great towers from which bells chime the hours of the day. I hate the infernal things, they wake me up each night and I rarely get rest unless my husband - Boromir - is with me, which has become less frequent now.

The first level of the City has a wide courtyard beyond the Great Gate. This is where much of the city goes about its everyday work, where the common folk of the city spend their days in the markets. Children can usually be found running around the lower levels, playing games as children do and even causing havoc for the City's guards on the rare occasion. The animals of the markets can be heard even from the fourth level and life is full of peace and joy for the people of Gondor. I wonder, not for the first time since coming to this city, how they are all able to live within its confines. It feels like a stone cage. Forever, the bells chime, the people move about like they do everyday and now I feel like I am in a day that is on repeat. The only change is that some days I will see Boromir and other days I won't.

The Hallows, large towers, sit on the back or western of the fifth level up on the rocky spur that joins the Hill of Guard to Mount Mindolluin. The past kings and stewards of Gondor were entombed there in the House of the Kings and the Stewards in the Silent Streets.

The Hallows can only be reached by a winding road that leads down from Fen Hollen - the Closed Door - on the sixth level. There is no life near this part of the city, unless it is from the rulers of Gondor coming to visit the past Kings- Perhaps people dislike the intimidating presence that the spirits seem to hold over the area.

The Houses of Healing is on the sixth level of Minas Tirith on the south-eastern side. Stables and lodgings of errand riders are on the sixth level near the gate leading to the Citadel.

The Citadel stands atop the seventh level of Minas Tirith. A strong, walled fortress where the ruler of Gondor conducted his court. The Tower of Ecthelion, a white tower that stands 300 feet tall. It truly is an impressive sight to see its highest point nearly touch the stars themselves were as night falls.

From the Tower Hall the Kings, and later the Stewards, ruled. On the north side of the tower were the Great Hall of Feasts. In front of the tower to the east were the Court of the Fountain, paved with white stones. Beside the fountain in the courtyard stands the White Tree of Gondor.

The land outside the walls of Minas Tirith were the rich farmlands of the Pelennor Fields where crops are grown and herds kept. Some homesteads were in the Pelennor Fields, however many people live within the City walls. The people in the homesteads were much more pleasant to me than those living in the city, though the odd exception. I have not seen them for days now and I wish only to feel the thick, long grass between my fingers. It is what reminds me so much of my home.

There are two main roads that lead to Minas Tirith. Ships and boats come to Minas Tirith along the Anduin river and dock at the Harlond below the south-eastern part of the Rammas Echor. A bridge spans the Anduin in Osgiliath, a city located on both sides of the river east of Minas Tirith. When Boromir first brought me to the city, it was on horseback. He has shown me the Anduin, but only after having pestering him that I had wanted to leave the city.

There is no King of Gondor. Those who ruled in the King's place were known as Stewards of Gondor.

Lord Denethor is the 26th ruling Steward; a good man, though shrewd and insightful at times. He always listened closely to the advice of his counsellors but made his own decisions. Many believe he is destined to lead Gondor in its time of need. Denethor married Findulias, daughter to Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth, in 2976 of the Third Age, and had two sons with her; Boromir, born in 2978 and Faramir, born in 2983. When Findulias died in 2988, Denethor became even more grim and withdrawn.

After many years, Sauron has become aware of Denethor's use of the Anor-stone, the palantiri of Minas Tirith and tried to corrupt him through its use. Boromir told me of this. The effort of Denethor's fight to maintain control of the Anor-Stone and prevent Sauron from forcing his gaze to the palantiri, has caused him to age prematurely. Even though he was unable to break Denethor's will or corrupt him as he had done with Saruman, Sauron was able to manipulate what Denethor saw in the palantiri in an effort to convince him that defeat was inevitable.

This has caused Denethor to believe that he was Sauron's primary opponent and he perceived that the conflict was only between Mordor and Gondor, rather than all of Middle Earth.

- - -

A heavy sigh escaped the woman's lips as she watched the soldiers and servants move about their daily work. In a way, she envied them as much as she loathed them; a pang of despair and longing found its way into her heart. A Lady of Gondor. That was what she was now. Trapped within the city walls- this was her life. She was happy, but something tore at her whenever she saw people leave the city, they were free to leave should they ever want to, while protocol kept her locked away in a gilded cage. She would have gladly taken the blow from an Orc blade now if it meant not living in here and being confined.

Lowering ocean blue eyes to the half written book resting in her lap she felt a tear roll down her cheek, and land on the page. She quickly brushed her cheek, wiping the stray tear away and then the page, causing some of the words to smudge.

A shadow covered her, blocking the sun just as a hand landed on her shoulder. She turned and looked up, smiling at the sight of Boromir's warm smile.

"Nienor?"

Quickly looking away, she brushed more tears from her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?"

Shaking her head, she spoke: "It is nothing."

She shut the book, least he catch what she had been writing. He eased himself down onto the white stone bench beside her, his grey eyes soft as he place a hand to her cheek and used his thumb to wipe away one stray tear.

"Nothing has you crying?" he commented with a kind smile. "Nienor, I know you better than that."

Nienor shut her eyes as she leaned into his touch. "I miss my home, that and my freedom." He raised his hand to twirl a finger into the waist-length golden blonde that framed her face.

"Freedom? Nienor you are free," he remarked and she pulled back a little.

"Not as free as I would like. As I used to be. Boromir. I used to be allowed to walk around my village without an escort, now if I even wish to walk one of the lower levels, I have to have a guard at my side and all I am expected to do is to sit and sew. Does your father not trust me because I have not grown up within the city?"

"Nienor-" he interrupted, only to be stopped.

"-Being a Lady of Gondor is all well and good and I love you, but I cannot stand being watched all the time," she stated, clearly more depressed about the whole idea than she was angry. Standing up, she made to leave only to have Boromir catch her wrist, stopping her.

"Nienor, you are not the daughter of a blacksmith anymore. You are a Lady of Gondor and you are watched for your own safety," he countered.

"No. I am watched because your father believes that I will-" she trailed off as a younger man approached them, clearing his throat to make his presence fully known to the pair.

"Brother," Boromir started, smiling at his younger brother as he released her wrist and she hid her book behind her back. Nienor lowered her head and smiled. As was expected from her in front of others. She'd always enjoyed Faramir's company, especially since he'd taught her how to read.

Her love for Boromir was strong. However, she did not always agree with her husband's view on the impending threat of Mordor, or the increasing number of attacks on the outer lands of Gondor. She knew there was more to the attacks than what Boromir would tell her. It seemed Faramir agreed with her more times than not.

The youngest of Denethor's sons returned their greetings before turning to face his older brother.

"Father wants to speak with you," he stated, a grim expression on his features.

Nienor looked at her husband who held a hand up, motioning for her to stay put before walking away.

She nodded but had a look on her face that clearly said she'd get it out of him the minute she found him later.

Faramir followed closely behind his brother - after giving Nienor a reassuring smile and she could only just return it with a weak one of her own - as Nienor made for the large quarters she shared with Boromir.

- - -

Her village home seemed small and downtrodden compared to the splendour that was her new home. Each room was ornately decorated with gorgeous white objects and very beautiful art that depicted the battles of old times past. A fire hearth was in the main room, as well as one in the large bedroom, along with a set of chairs - with a rug of fur over each - to relax in before bed, or even during the day when she did not wish for company, and a large fur rug lay spread out in front of the hearth.

A blush crept up Nienor's cheeks as she remembered the nights she and Boromir had spent on that rug. Her blush grew when she remembered that they nearly got caught their first time on that same rug by a soldier, questioning Boromir on the noise.

"Lady Nienor? Are you alright?" a maid asked with a quizzical look.

No, not really she thought.

"Yes I- I was just- thinking," she answered, heading over to the large window. The curtains had been drawn back. She was able to see out far over Pelennor Fields, leaving her to wonder yet again, what it would be like to travel out of the borders of Gondor. Travel to Rohan; see the Golden Hall of Meduseld that she'd only ever read about in the ancient manuscripts in the archives of Minas Tirith.

Back home, she never would have had an opportunity to even see travellers and hear their stories, no one had known of the small towns existence and it had only been by unfortunate chance that the Orcs had even happened upon them in the first place. She and her older brother Coenred had been the only ones to survive and that had only been because their father had ordered them to leave.

"Do you always daydream, Nienor?" Turning around upon hearing the familiar voice, she smiled at Faramir and nodded.

"When have you known me not to, Faramir?" she remarked as he leaned against the wall near the window. "What brings you here, and so early in the day?"
"I came to see if you were feeling well?"

"I saw you and Boromir arguing," he said in a low voice, so the maid was not able to hear him.

Nienor lowered her eyes, her smile fading as she tried to find a reasonable excuse that Faramir would believe. However, nothing came to her and she sighed. "Just a minor disagreement, that is all."

She loved Boromir, but Faramir was the more kinder of the two. He cared for learning and lore just as much as he cared for Gondor's protection and that of its people, while Boromir was more the warrior and leader.

He had even agreed with her when she told him he would prefer to have a sword and shield in hand then quill and paper.

"Another minor disagreement?"

"We just- I want to go back to how it was before I became his wife. Not that I'm not happy, it is just that the Houses of Healing need the help. I don't want to stay in the shadows and watch as our land falls into the shadow of the Mordor and it is tearing away at me inside, not being allowed to help. He knows that I cannot sit and watch our land suffer. He is a warrior, and has always been so Far-"

"-And you are both more stubborn than a pair of mules. You are a warrior, but of a different nature, Nienor and Boromir sees that, I think that's what made him fall in love with you," he remarked, his gaze moving to the window as a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Nienor pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest. "Me. A stubborn mule. I should hit you for that," she commented, though the smile on her lips betrayed her and she lightly slapped his arm as he laughed.

"I didn't mean you were a mule- just that you were as stubborn as one!" Faramir cried in mock offense as Nienor left him at the window to walk over and sit in one of the large chairs.

Faramir watched her and felt his smile falter at the sad look in her eyes. When Sauron had attacked Osgiliath not three weeks ago, it had been Boromir who held the bridge until it was destroyed, while Faramir had also been there, his father had praised Boromir for the victory and showed scorn towards Faramir for not protecting the city well enough. That had been one of the hardest times for all of them, for he knew at the time, Nienor had been a panicked way for she thought that Boromir and he would not return due to the numbers that had attacked them.

"Why does Denethor want to speak to him?" she asked, not looking up at him. Faramir, however, did not answer her. When Nienor looked back up, expecting to see Faramir still standing there, she caught the door closing. Sighing, Nienor looked at the maid standing with her back to her and shook her head. This conversation was going to be the talk of the servants for the next few days.

- - -

Boromir did not leave the meeting with his father until after dark. He half expected Nienor to already be in bed sleeping soundly, that wasn't what he found.
A smile came to his face as he found her curled up in front of the fire, her head resting on one of the manuscripts from the library. Boromir crouched down beside her and brushed a stray hair from her face, watching as she rolled over, a weak smile gracing her lips.

"Nienor?"

She didn't answer him and he decided against waking her up. Instead he eased a hand beneath her knees and behind her shoulders, easily picking her up, looking down at Nienor as she huddled closer to his body, seeking warmth. Carrying her into their bedroom, he eased her down onto the large bed, grinning as she curled up against the pillows.

The maids had turned down the covers and Boromir began to deftly unlace the ties of her dress, all too familiar with such an action. Managing to pull it off her, he threw it over the back of a chair near the small hearth that heated the room. He stopped for a moment and looked at the image his wife created; a deep frown on her face, curled up against the pillows of their bed as if trying to hide from her dreams. Shifting and turning every now and then. Knowing her dreams had not been peaceful for a few nights, Boromir did not have the heart to wake her, even if her dreams were unpleasant. At least she was sleeping.

She was so tempting to touch and Boromir managed to resist and laid a hand against the simple shift that covered Nienor's body. Part of him was in despair. They had been married for two years and Nienor still had not given him a child, even with the help of herbs from the Houses of Healing, though patient, he knew his father was not and that he wanted a grandson.

He trailed his hand from her stomach up between her breasts and to her cheek before he leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips.

He was sorry about what he had said that morning but it was not unusual for Nienor to voice what she thought or felt, but some things are better left unsaid. Because of his guilt, he had not paid much attention to his father for the better half of the morning while he had talked about Osgiliath.

Quickly he discarded her slippers as well, knowing she would complain if he were to leave them on.

He had turned away and begun to pull his tunic off when a voice broke the silence of the night. "Boromir?" He turned and found Nienor leaning back on her arms, looking around, as if not knowing where she was.

"What did he say?" she questioned after a few moments.

Boromir shook his head. "Sleep. I'll tell you in the morning."

He knew, however, Nienor wasn't so easy to sway or tell what to do.

"Boromir, I can barely sleep as is, you make me worry myself sick." He smiled and walked over to the bed, tossing his tunic and cotton shirt to the floor. Leaning on his hands, he bowed his head and pressed a light kiss to her mouth.

"Nienor, do not worry, I promise I will tell you everything in the morning, now please, sleep," he pleaded with her. A sigh left her and Boromir sat down on the edge of the bed, something was wrong and he knew it was not worry.

"I had that dream again," she said softly. Boromir looked away.

"I don't understand why I have a dream of things to come and you see a vision of my death. That is not a comforting thought," he remarked. Nienor was on her knees and cupping his face with small, delicate hands, making him look at her.

"Do you think I enjoy or want such a dream, Boromir?" she questioned, but he didn't answer her. "I want to know why your father wanted to talk to you, please. It might help me understand what all this means." Boromir sighed heavily and stood up, walking over to the window. He had agreed to go, and there was no turning back now, no matter what Nienor thought of it. "I have to leave for Rivendell, the realm of Lord Elrond, in two days," he murmured.

- - -

Nienor had climbed from the bed and followed Boromir, but the moment his words reached her, she froze.

"What?" she whispered, not believing what she was hearing. Rivendell. That was a long journey, even from a man like Boromir to travel. "Why?"

He turned to her and could only stare at her for a moment - the dim light of the fire had caught her face and he could see the terror in her eyes even from his place at the window. "It is a meeting, that is all."

"A meeting?" she started, "Boromir, I am not foolish. I do know that if it was of little importance, then he would have gone himself, leaving you to defend Gondor. But, to send the Captain-General of Gondor-"

"You are too clever for your own good, sometimes," he interrupted, pulling her into his arms, tight against his chest. "It is a meeting of high importance and utmost secrecy. In Rivendell I shall find the answer I seek for my dream, Nienor." He caressed her cheek softly. "I love you and I promise that I will be back before this time next year."

Nienor knew Boromir always kept his word, but her heart felt like it was breaking in two, as reality sunk in; he was leaving in two days and there was nothing she was going to be able to do to stop him, and that despite his promise, Nienor had a sickening feeling this was going to be one of her last days with him.