Hey! I do not own anything remotely connected to The Lord of the Rings -apart from the DVD and some books. Nerin is someone I made up, I hope she fits in and plays nicely with others. (jk she's harmless. Its Boromir I'm worried about.)
She watched him enter the inn and sink down at a table. She knew at once who he was, Boromir, son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor.
He was the last man she expected to run into this early evening on the 13th of Halimath. She had known him once years ago when she was but a twelve year old tom boy, trying to please her father by learning fencing and parrying. Skills she still employed in her everyday life.
No she hadn't expected to see him, but she was pleased none the less.
"So, 'The Sword Arm of Gondor' graces us with his presence." She said approaching his table.
"Ale." Boromir said, not looking up. He was sweaty and his clothes looked worn as though he had traveled a far distance in a short period of time.
She took a pint of ale from the confused bartender and set it down in front of Boromir.
"Tell me Boromir, son of Denethor, what brings you to this humble establishment?" she asked.
"You know too much for a bar maid." he scowled into his mug before taking a long swig.
"You're a hero." she said. "Tell of your victories spread far."
"You also speak too much for a bar maid." he said sitting the mug down.
Nerin only laughed.
"You assume too much, Captain of the White Tower. I am no bar maid. I am Nerin, only daughter of Thalilon."
Boromir's gaze shot up into hers. He was more handsome than she had remembered, even if his face was turned with a look of disbelief. That look changed into a smug grin.
"It's a pity Thalilon had any daughters at all." Boromir chuckled lightly to himself and buried his face back into his mug.
"I'm sure my father would agree with you there," she smiled slyly.
"You've grown since last I saw you, Nerin." he said and motioned for her to sit beside him.
"Its been quite a few days, has it not?" she said accepting his offer. She sat her own mug in front of her and leaned in closer to him. "Tell me, what brings you this far north?"
"And still as curious as ever." he laughed taking his last swig.
"You make it sound like you remember me well." she laughed.
"How could I forget the teenage girl who insisted on dueling me in front of our fathers?" his eyes twinkled with remembrance.
"Then you no doubt remember who won our duel?" she said tipping her glass to him.
"Aye," he said somberly, "The better man."
"Not hardly." she punched him on the arm good heartedly. "If at any time you want a rematch to prove yourself, you need only let me know."
"Perhaps," he grinned, motioning for more ale. "If you're up to it?"
"Me?" she laughed pointing at Boromir. "You look as though you were riding to out-run death, herself."
"I am on my way to Rivendell." he said lowly.
"Rivendell." she repeated. "Still a fair journey from here." The bartender poured him another tankard full. "Why are you headed there?"
"I do not yet know." he said earnestly. "I had a dream, no a vision, of the sword that was broken. I must see it, and it resides in Rivendell."
Nerin saw the intensity he had on the subject and only nodded.
After only another pint, Boromir rented himself a room at the inn. He thanked Nerin briefly for her company before he toiled up the stairs to his room. Nerin watched him go up and shut his door. She then went out into the night and saddled up her horse and made for Rivendell.
Okie so you like it so far? This is my first attempt at a LOTR fan fiction. I happen to love Boromir. Any questions or ideas? Leave a review I appreciate them all.
Cosmic
She watched him enter the inn and sink down at a table. She knew at once who he was, Boromir, son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor.
He was the last man she expected to run into this early evening on the 13th of Halimath. She had known him once years ago when she was but a twelve year old tom boy, trying to please her father by learning fencing and parrying. Skills she still employed in her everyday life.
No she hadn't expected to see him, but she was pleased none the less.
"So, 'The Sword Arm of Gondor' graces us with his presence." She said approaching his table.
"Ale." Boromir said, not looking up. He was sweaty and his clothes looked worn as though he had traveled a far distance in a short period of time.
She took a pint of ale from the confused bartender and set it down in front of Boromir.
"Tell me Boromir, son of Denethor, what brings you to this humble establishment?" she asked.
"You know too much for a bar maid." he scowled into his mug before taking a long swig.
"You're a hero." she said. "Tell of your victories spread far."
"You also speak too much for a bar maid." he said sitting the mug down.
Nerin only laughed.
"You assume too much, Captain of the White Tower. I am no bar maid. I am Nerin, only daughter of Thalilon."
Boromir's gaze shot up into hers. He was more handsome than she had remembered, even if his face was turned with a look of disbelief. That look changed into a smug grin.
"It's a pity Thalilon had any daughters at all." Boromir chuckled lightly to himself and buried his face back into his mug.
"I'm sure my father would agree with you there," she smiled slyly.
"You've grown since last I saw you, Nerin." he said and motioned for her to sit beside him.
"Its been quite a few days, has it not?" she said accepting his offer. She sat her own mug in front of her and leaned in closer to him. "Tell me, what brings you this far north?"
"And still as curious as ever." he laughed taking his last swig.
"You make it sound like you remember me well." she laughed.
"How could I forget the teenage girl who insisted on dueling me in front of our fathers?" his eyes twinkled with remembrance.
"Then you no doubt remember who won our duel?" she said tipping her glass to him.
"Aye," he said somberly, "The better man."
"Not hardly." she punched him on the arm good heartedly. "If at any time you want a rematch to prove yourself, you need only let me know."
"Perhaps," he grinned, motioning for more ale. "If you're up to it?"
"Me?" she laughed pointing at Boromir. "You look as though you were riding to out-run death, herself."
"I am on my way to Rivendell." he said lowly.
"Rivendell." she repeated. "Still a fair journey from here." The bartender poured him another tankard full. "Why are you headed there?"
"I do not yet know." he said earnestly. "I had a dream, no a vision, of the sword that was broken. I must see it, and it resides in Rivendell."
Nerin saw the intensity he had on the subject and only nodded.
After only another pint, Boromir rented himself a room at the inn. He thanked Nerin briefly for her company before he toiled up the stairs to his room. Nerin watched him go up and shut his door. She then went out into the night and saddled up her horse and made for Rivendell.
Okie so you like it so far? This is my first attempt at a LOTR fan fiction. I happen to love Boromir. Any questions or ideas? Leave a review I appreciate them all.
Cosmic