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Aragorn turns her around to look at him. She tilts her head curiously to one side and peers up at him from under her bangs, "I'm not going back there even if you tie me up and put me in a sack. I won't set foot in Rivendell again, not after last time."
"It was an accident," He says pulling her hood off her head.
"Yeah, an accident that cost me ten years of exile to the Grey Mountains!"
"It could have been worse, you know. You could have been stripped of your titles too, even killed."
"What titles? Do you mean the ones that my Elvin mother, who wouldn't even acknowledge that I even existed after it happened, bestowed upon me before she sailed away to the Elvin Land? I would actually have preferred it if they had," Aragorn shook his head and looked her straight in the eye.
"They wouldn't have done that and you know it. It was only an accident, it's not like they could have prevented it."
"I accidently killed their princess, Aragorn. That's not something I or they will forget!" Mírien yells as she walks over to a training dummy placed in the middle of the stable yard. She unclasps the star shaped clasp holding her cloak in place and tosses it on the ground several yards away. She unsheathes her sword and examines it.
Aragorn's eyes widen as he recognizes the legendary blade. It's Ringil, the sword used to battle the first Dark Lord, Morgoth. It was thought to have been lost because it was last seen over six thousand years before. Now here it was in the hands of the only female Ranger.
"Where did you get the blade?"
Rilwen looks over her shoulder at him ans scowls, "I aqquired it from an old Elf in the Grey Mountains."
Turning back to the dummy Mírien attacks the dummy hitting it with strength not found in many men. As she swings Ringil around the sword flashes like cold ice in the moonlight. She keeps attacking the dummy furiously for some time before the whole dummy falls apart. She stops, sheaths Ringil and turns to Aragorn her chest heaving in exertion.
"I see you haven't lost your touch."
Mírien smiles and gestures to his sword.
"How about you? How are your skills after ten years? Have you improved enough to finally beat me?"
"Well, you see while you've been in exile, I've been traveling here and there gathering information for the wizard, Gandalf."
Mírien nods and strides over to where she had thrown her cloak.
"And I see you still insist on wearing a tunic and leggings instead of a dress like normal women."
Mírien looks over at him like he was crazy.
"Are you comparing me to those weak females who don't know a dagger from kitchen knife? I don't wear dresses because it's a lot easier to run, track, and fight without one," She walks over to Aragorn and wraps her hands around his waist.
"Would you prefer it if I wore one and acted like a delicate female?" She asks with an innocent look on her face.
Aragorn looks down at her and smiles, "No, would you prefer it if I dressed up like a farmer and started planting crops?"
"No, I love you just the way you are Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Heir of Isildur," She replies before kissing him full on the lips.
"If you love me you would come to Rivendell with me and these Hobbits." She smiles and rests her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on the top of her head. Then she sighs and whispers.
"I will come, but only if these Hobbits know who I am right from the start. I don't want them to treat me like a weakling female."
Aragorn smiles and pulls away from her, "I'm glad you decided to join us. What made you change your mind, my love?"
"That's your answer right there."
"What that's?"
"My love for you and justice."
"Justice for what?"
"For those elves stealing ten years away from my beloved Ranger."
"You're talking about me right?" Aragorn says smiling at her. She playfully punches him in the arm before laughing.
"Who else would wait ten years for a girl who was sent away by his own foster father?"
"Who else would have dealt with your sarcastic comments and temper?" At that Mírien attacked him.
She jumped him wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Aragorn was expecting such a reaction and caught her. She pulled his face toward her and kissed him deeply before resting her had on his shoulder and sighing.
"I missed you, Aragorn," she whispers.
"I missed you too, nin meleth."
Aragorn carries her into the Inn and, with some curious onlookers, down the hall of rooms to where he was staying. He released her and she proceeded to unclasp her hood and sword. She pulled off her jacket and vest before pulling off her boots and unclasping the twin blades that were strapped to her wrists.
She crawled onto the bed where Aragorn joined her not much later and pulled her toward him, burrying his face in her, now undone, hair. She sighed contentedly before drifting off to sleep in the arms of her beloved.
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