A/N: As per usual I only own my OC's. Thank you to the new favorites and followers, I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

Eyes glued to the door before her, she waited nervously, going over the words she would say in her head over and over. Lord Denethor was having a meeting with Boromir, in regards to the uprise in aggressive attacks. Mirawen could hear them discussing numbers, and wondered if Boromir spoke of the enemy's forces, their own, or their losses. Boromir had arrived early that morning, and Mirawen only caught a glimpse of her brother as he headed straight to meet with their father. Waiting, anxiously, she remembered Edwin's words to her the previous day and slowed her breathing. "Focus Mira… you have this…. Breathe in. Breathe out." she told herself. Suddenly the voices from behind the closed door raised, and she took a step closer to listen in.

"Everyday we lose more and more men. We need more forces to keep the enemy at bay. Reach out to Rohan father… surely King Theoden will send help." Boromir pleaded firmly.

"I understand Boromir, but King Theoden is of no use, he will not help us." Her father answered. "Let us break. We will discuss this later, you are travel weary, rest and come back to me when you are of clear mind."

"Yes Father." She could tell from Boromir's sour tone, he was not pleased with their father's disinterest. Each day, Lord Denethor spent more time alone behind closed doors, only making appearances when necessary. Each day, his heart growing more bitter, and she knew she needed to act now before her father became more unreasonable.

The door opened and Boromir stepped into the hall, visibly frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. His expression, however, quickly softened when he saw his sister standing in the hall, stepping forward he wrapped his arms around her, scooping her up off the ground into a spin. No words needed to be spoken between them, their tight embrace saying it all. It had been the longest stretch of time they had gone without seeing each other, near a year.

She stood taller, Boromir noticed as he softly placed her feet back down, she was a woman grown now. As he held her he could smell hints of lavender in her waist-length hair that rested against his broad chest. "Just like mother…" he thought wistfully.

"It is good to see you sister." He said, smiling at her.

"And you, Boromir. What news do you bring?" She asked him.

"Nothing good." He sighed, "Though, I think you already knew that. How long have you been standing here?" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"Long enough…" She smirked, "I think I can help. I need to speak to father… but…"

"You are afraid to do it alone." He finished for her. Their father's attitude had changed towards his daughter since their mother's passing, this had not gone lost on Boromir. He resented the fact that his father favored him over his two siblings so openly, but he would not let his resentment show. Instead, he did everything he could to talk them up and defend them whenever he was with his father.

"Let us grab something to eat first." Boromir said, "We will come back in an hour… hopefully father will be more open to reason by that time."

"That sounds lovely." She said, taking her brother's arm when he offered it to her. "Now… tell me everything… how is Faramir?" She trailed off, voice echoing as they walked down the hall away from their father's study.

An hour passed and they returned, Boromir lightly knocking on the door before them. A cool voice answered.

"Come in."

They entered the room to see Lord Denethor at his desk, and he slowly turned around, his face dropping when he saw his daughter with Boromir. He looked away quickly before he could meet her eyes; the same green eyes that haunted him every night in his dreams.

"Father," Boromir started "Mirawen has a proposal for you… something that could help us..."

He hmphed condescendingly from his seat. What could his daughter possibly know about war and strategy? What did she have to offer?

"You should listen to what she has to say father." He said again, nudging her forward.

Her father turned to the side, and she could only see his profile in the candlelight, casting a warm glow against his cold features. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak the words she had been practicing for weeks. She started out shakey, looking back at Boromir he gave her an encouraging smile, and her demeanour became more confident.

"... I've spoken to the Warden. He agrees this would be most wise in protecting our men, and our numbers. Several healers have already volunteered for training, if you would agree to this father." she finished, and waited for Lord Denethor to respond.

The room was silent, as they waited with bated breath for him to respond. Their father sat appearing to be in deep thought, his hand stroking his chin as he contemplated all that she had said. He had to admit, it was a good idea, though he could not bring himself to say it out loud. He suddenly moved his hand to rest on his lap, and turned to face her brother.

"And what do you make of this Boromir?" He asked his son, and Captain of his armies.

"It is the best chance we have father." He answered honestly, stepping forward he placed a hand on Mirawen's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"Then we will see it done. Mirawen..." He said, addressing his daughter. Though it pained him to look upon her as she reminded him so much of his late wife, he glanced up. Forcing himself, he looked into her eyes and felt a sharp stab in his heart. Closing his eyes, he could see his Finduilas, and he looked away from Mirawen just as quickly as his eyes met hers. "I leave this in your charge, work with the Warden and have him report to me in two days; I expect a list of the men volunteering by dusk. Boromir, tomorrow you will meet with Berin to set up training for the healers, I want them ready in six months time."

"Yes father." Boromir said, bowing his head, and Lord Denethor turned back to his desk.

"Father…" Mirawen interjected, her father's back stiffening at her voice. "I am quite adept at healing… and I have some practice in defensive combat unlike the others… I wish to be in the field. I am ready."

Her voice was confident, and he considered her request. Boromir's eyes widened at his sister, surely his father would not allow this. Lord Denethor loved his daughter, though he had a hard time showing it these days. War was not a woman's place, "... though she would be going as healer…" and he thought to himself, perhaps, if his daughter was away, he would stop seeing his wife's ghost roaming the halls. He remained silent for several moments before coming to a decision.

"You will train with Berin." He answered firmly, "Starting tomorrow you are to be in the training yard every day to sharpen your skills, I expect you ready in two months time."

"Thank you father, I will be." She said, holding back her excitement. She bowed her head and took her leave as her father dismissed her.

"Boromir." Lord Denethor called, halting him. "You do not agree with me." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Forgive me father, but I do not." Boromir answered "She is young, and naive. She does not know what is out there. If you cared…"

Lord Denethor interrupted him, "She knows what she is getting herself into Boromir, she had seen the aftermath of war plenty of times. From what I hear she is a talented healer, you will benefit greatly having her out there with you. If this is what she wants then so be it."

"She is going to get herself killed!" Boromir exclaimed.

"Then see to it that she does not." He answered his son, sounding detached. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Boromir, who stormed out.

The next two months went by quickly; Mirawen spent her time between her duties as healer, Edwin, and training with Berin and the others. Edwin would accompany her to the training grounds each day to watch her, he was impressed to see how much she improved in a short amount of time, even her archery had improved, as she managed to get the arrow closer to the center target. He admired how passionate she was, though part of him did not want to see her go, he was proud of her all the same.

The day before she was set to leave, Boromir returned to Minas Tirith with a small company that would escort her to Ithilien, bringing with them plenty of supplies they needed. He was not keen on having her out there, he knew not what war would do to his sister, and it worried him. From the corridor above the grounds, he watched his sister spar with another soldier. She was quick, he had to admit, though he hoped she would never have to find herself in close proximity with an army of orcs.

From his spot, he noticed a young man watching his sister affectionately. "Curious…" Boromir said to himself stroking his beard, if he didn't know any better, he would say it was a look of love etched on the young man's face. Squinting his eyes, he recognized the man to be Edwin, son of Berin, and the boy Mirawen had spent much of her time with when she was a child. He watched them walk away together, and he felt somewhat torn. He was happy for his sister, to find love in these times, but he knew it was a union his father would never allow.

Arm in arm, Edwin escorted Mirawen back to her chambers, it was a bittersweet moment. He was proud of Mirawen, she was finally doing what her heart longed for, but at the same time, he wished she would stay. They arrived at her door, and turned to look at one another. "This was it…" she thought to herself.

Edwin took her hands in his and let out the breath he was holding. "I wish we had more time." He admitted.

She smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "It will not be long before you join me out there."

He sighed, his recovery would be long and tedious, his limp was still very prominent and he could not walk for long periods of time without pain, though he hid it from her. It would be a while yet before he was deemed fit enough to return to his post as Ranger. "I will miss you Mira… I feel like I just got you back…" He whispered to her, stroking her face lovingly.

They stared at each other in silence, getting lost in one another's eyes, and in that moment they did not care who saw them. Edwin stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, he moved her head gently to rest against his shoulder.

She looked up at him as his fingers played with her long hair the color of fall leaves, "I will miss you to Edwin, so much." She sighed, content to stay in his strong arms forever, listening to his heart beat in his chest.

At that moment Boromir entered the hallway that lead to his chambers, which happened to be directly across from his sister's. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the two of them at her door, Edwin's back faced him, blocking him from Mirawen's sight. Not wanting to interrupt their goodbye, he turned slowly walking back around the corner and he waited.

Edwin took Mirawen's face in his hands and closed the distance between them. Their chests pressed together they could feel the other's heart pounding, Mirawen wrapped her arms around Edwin's neck, holding him hard against her, not wanting this moment to end. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue entry; she felt as if her feet were floating off the ground. With one hand around the small of her back, and his other tangled in her hair, Edwin kissed her passionately, trying to relay as much emotion into this one kiss as possible. It would be their last before she left the next morning, their one last stolen moment before she was gone, neither knowing when she would return.

"Edwin… I…" She panted, feeling breathless when their lips finally parted.

"I love you Mira." He confessed, pulling her in for one last embrace before they parted.

She felt her heart burst, and a million tiny butterflies danced in her stomach as he declared his love for her. "I love you to." She said tenderly. Standing on her toes, she kissed him softly on the lips, as she ran her hands through his dark hair.

She pulled away slowly, their foreheads resting against one another, they smiled. He placed a kiss on her forehead before they reluctantly pulled apart, and Mirawen opened the door to her chamber, turning to him one last time she said softly, "Goodnight Edwin."

"Goodnight Mira."

Neither one of them were able to bring themselves to say the words goodbye. He held her hand as long as he could, their arms stretching until only the tips of their fingers touched as he watched her enter the room. He took in the appearance of the beautiful girl he loved so strongly, burning her image into his memory. They smiled softly at one another as her face disappeared behind the closing door.

When her door clicked shut, and Edwin let out a sigh, lingering for just a moment as he collected himself before turning down the hall to head to his own home. He had been discharged from the Healing Houses a few weeks ago and had moved back into the home he shared with his mother and father on the fourth level of the city. He jumped slightly, startled from his thoughts when he noticed Boromir crossed his path.

"Lord Boromir." He addressed, bowing his head. He did his best to suppress his nerves in front of Boromir, in an attempt to hide the fact that he had just shared an intimate moment with the Captain of Gondor's sister.

"Edwin." He nodded at the younger man standing before him, smirking he said. "I thank you for escorting my sister to her chambers."

Edwin's face turned red when he saw Boromir's knowing look, he opened his mouth to come up with some excuse. Boromir patted his shoulder, chuckling under his breath as he did so. Shaking his head slightly he left the boy standing in the hall and entered his own chambers.

The next morning Mirawen stood at the end of her bed, staring down at the items laid out in front of her. She tediously checked and rechecked that she had absolutely everything, listing off the items in her head as she did so. Ioreth and the Warden had met with her the day before and gifted her with some items made specially for her. A brown leather pack Ioreth had called "A MedBag" that, when opened, would unfold to lay flat. In little pockets it held all the tools and medicines she would need in an organized fashion. They had also gifted her a smaller leather pouch of the same color, it had brass clips so she could connect it to her scabbard belt. The pouch contained special wrappings to use for collecting any healing herbs and plants she came across. Lastly, Ioreth had given her a small notebook filled with illustrations and descriptions of herbs deemed safe, as well as a quick reference guide of recipes for many of the salves they used in the Healing Houses.

She went over her mental list one last time, the items organized on her large bed, which she would soon learn she had taken for granted. Once satisfied that everything was accounted for, she wandered towards her vanity, picking up her brush with delicate hands she began running it through her long hair, untangling the knots caused by sleep. Placing the brush back down, she began to braid her hair like her mother had taught her. She twisted her stands, and tied the ends with leather string. Once finished, she admired her handiwork in the mirror, two strands ran down the top of her head and met at the back to form one large braid, while on the sides were two smaller braids wound tightly just past her ears, where they hung down her back.

She took her time getting dressed, feeling all of a sudden anxious, she was accustomed to wearing a dress each day, and she realized that she would miss the comforts of familiarity while she was out in the wilderness. Her father had commissioned for special clothing and armour to be made to fit her; she had tried on some of Faramir's old clothing, but it hung too loose and felt awkward on her slender frame. After changing into her small clothes, she slipped on a pair of dark brown breeches, it felt strange to her, as she was not used to having fabrics cling so tightly to her legs. Next, she put on a fitted black undershirt, meant to keep her warm, before pulling the navy blue tunic over her head. The tunic was slightly looser than the undershirt, it cinched slightly at her waist, flowing out it rested just below her hips. Her handmaiden Lenniel arrived then, just in time to help Mirawen into her armour. She had managed to get her leg and arm braces on just fine, but was having trouble getting into her doublet. Once they had gotten it over her head and her arms were in place, Lenniel showed her how to tighten it.

"It laces up the sides like this you see." Lenniel said. Watching her demonstrate on one side, Mirawen then did the other side herself, making a mental note to remember how to do it herself so she wouldn't appear a fool in front of the men, especially her brothers.

"How do I look Lenniel?" Mirawen asked, giving herself a once over in the mirror, she ran her hands along the strange clothing. Feeling slightly uncomfortable at her appearance, she began to have some doubts.

"Like a warrior princess milady." She answered, sensing her Lady's insecurities, "Gondor's own shieldmaiden."

Mirawen smiled, forgetting her moment of doubt, Lenniel's words brought her confidence back to the surface, and she looked at her reflection once more. This time, she admired her new look, the leather armour, the same dark brown color of her medical pack, made her feel strong. The white tree of Gondor stitched across the chest of her doublet in gold, she would wear it with pride. "It's finally happening..." she thought to herself, before lifting her arms so Lenniel could help her fasten her belt. She slipped into her brown boots and laced them, then slid her brand new short sword, a gift from her father, into its scabbard.

Grabbing her pack from the bed, she slipped her arms into its leather straps until it rested comfortably on her shoulders, then attached the smaller pouch to her belt. She opened the pouch to slip the journal from Ioreth into it. Her eyes landing on shining metal, and she smiled as she picked up the dagger that was gifted to her many years ago. Holding it against her chest she closed her eyes, feeling her heart burst with what she could only describe as love. Touching her fingers to her lips, she felt a slight blush warm her cheeks as she remembered the passionate farewell her and Edwin had shared the previous night. Slipping the dagger into the smaller sheath strapped to her leg, she turned and embraced Lenniel in a tight hug.

"Be safe out there milady." Lenniel said, holding back tears, Mirawen gave her a look and she she quickly corrected herself, chuckling "... I mean... Mirawen."

"Much better, friend." Mirawen answered. "I promise I will. Take care of yourself Lenniel, I will be back before you know it."

Throwing her forest green cloak over her shoulders, she tied it into place; the cloak was meant to both keep her warm, and hidden from enemies. Taking one more look around her chambers, the last thing she did was slip her mother's pendant underneath her tunic where it would remain safe. "I will be strong mother." she thought and she headed down to the stables where she was to meet the others in her company.

Atop her horse Argo, they rode slowly through the city towards the main gate, Ioreth and some of the other healers had come to see them off. She rode beside her brother, who still had not fully accepted her joining them. Though he admitted that her skills had greatly improved, and that they would benefit from her talent as a healer, he vowed he would not let any harm come to her. Boromir would never be able to forgive himself if it did.

Mirawen's eyes met her father's for a brief moment and for the first time in many years he held her gaze, though he did not smile, his look was warm. He nodded, his way of saying farewell to her and Boromir. The gate opened slowly, and revealed the morning sun beaming down, casting a golden glow on the vast green fields of Pelennor. She took this to be a good omen, granting them safe travels as the sun lit their way.

Mirawen scanned the crowd a final time, her heart jumping when she found who she was looking for. Edwin waved at her, and she returned it with a bright smile, their eyes not leaving one another until Boromir made the call to ride out. She squeezed her legs gently, clicking her tongue Argo began to move forward with the other horses. Matching their pace, they broke out into a full gallop once the entire company was on the field. The gates closed behind them, and she rode at the front next to Boromir, just like she had always dreamed. Not once did she look back at the city she was leaving behind, it was time now to only go forward.

A/N: Okay, I released this one early, I'm definitely getting eager to get to the movie plot! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, how will Mira fare in the wilds of Ithilien? And will Boromir come around? Thank you for reading!

Until next time,

-Buttercup.