I'm really sorry about all the spelling mistakes. I'll try to correct as many as I can, but it helps if you say where they are in your reviews. It's fine if you just say 'all of chapters 1-10'!
Thanks so much for all the reviews!
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All in the space of the three hours between seven and ten she danced with no less than thirteen of Faramir's men, though he seemed to be very protective of her. The hobbits got several dances each, and all the bending down made her back ache, but she decided it was worth it.
At the meal she sat to the left of Faramir, and was served the best meat and wine that Ithilien and its rangers could offer her. A talented fiddle player stood before her and, at Faramir's direction, played many long ballads of beautiful maidens for her. She beamed with delight at one particular that took her fancy, and Faramir smiled at her joy.
By the eleventh hour it was nearly fully dark, and the fire had sunk low in its embers. The hobbits were half-slumped across the tables, breathing deeply in their sleepiness. Faramir drained his golden cup finally, and banged it on the table. A man lying full-length on the wood beside rolled over in his intoxicated sleep.
'Time we went from the party now,' Faramir said softly, and gently he helped the two hobbits up. 'Good night, little men who are great lords. You know the way to your rooms.'
He followed them out of the hall, but turned away on a different corridor later, the one that took him to Mithmír's room. His breath laboured in expectation, he stopped before the long curtain that covered the door. 'Lady Mithmír, it is Faramir. May I enter?'
'Yes,' called out the pure, sincere voice from inside. Its owner was far more nervous than she let on.
Taking a deep breath and thinking, you're the Steward's son, you can do this, it's just a woman… But not just, oh definitely not just, he thought as he brushed aside the curtain and walked in.
Her room was far warmer than the rest of the extensive cave system. The fire was piled high, and candle in every bracket on the wall, as well as three on the table in wrought-iron holders. The Lady sat on a stool by the table, wearing her white night-dress with a fur rug pulled around her shoulders. Her feet were bare. She looked up at him, and he was struck with her fierce beauty, the way her wild spirit shone through her features. He bowed low. 'Lady,' he said reverently.
She pointed to the stool beside her. 'Come in, Lord. Please, sit here – and there is heated wine in that flask. Help yourself – your serving-man kindly left two mugs.'
He sat down beside her, unable to take his eyes from her deceptively lithe form. 'You look…'
She looked at him sadly. In the hour since she had departed from the party; she had thought over her feelings for this Man. And they were not love, at least, not love as the love he expressed for her. He was charismatic, and she viewed him as a trusted friend, but nothing else. She was not sure how to tell him, and her heart ached. When she looked back on it later, she would realise she had behaved in a very elf-like manner. 'Lord, say no more,' she said quietly, but the words were clearly an order.
He looked at her, and the hurt in his eyes was deep. 'My Lady… But you said…'
She took his hands and cupped them in hers, and looking deep into his eyes spoke in the most caring voice she could muster: 'Lord, there is another woman for you. I can feel this in my heart. We were not meant to be for each other. You must put me from your mind, and do not grieve for loss. Just because we cannot love one another, that does not mean we cannot still be close.' The hurt in his deep orbs lessened a little, barely perceptibly - even for an Elf. 'I wish to be your ally, Lord, and if I may a dear friend. My affection for you is great, but it does not manifest itself in love of a kind of husband and wife.'
He nodded, though the tears still threatened. 'I must consider myself blessed that you will pay even this kindness to me, Lady.'
'Do not be so bitter, Lord. You have not lost a love but gained a friend who, if she may, shall be faithful till the end.'
'But you go with the hobbits by morning… I can never know you better than this, Lady, and that makes my heart grieve.'
She sighed. 'Lord, I ask you a favour now: may I ride out with your company to fight for Minas Tirith, the city of my forebears? I can fight nigh better than many Men…'
'You mean it?' He asked, eyes shining now with hope un-looked for. 'You shall ride with us, on my right-hand side?'
'If I may, it should be an honour,' she said simply. 'I can no longer serve the hobbits as well as I wish. The last stage of this Quest rests on their own shoulders. I now instead wish to fight at the head of the armies of the Free Nations, to fight for our right to live.' She bowed her head a little. 'I should stay by your side until a greater need arose. I do not give you my sword, Lord, for my soul remains untamed. I do, however, give you my word: to serve you as I can, and as I will, as a dear friend and most trusted companion, both on the field of war and off.'
'And your pledge I gratefully accept,' he said in joy, and hugged her close – as a friend, no more and no less. 'We shall indeed be as close as brother and sister!' His eyes clouded over with tears at mention of brothers, as the thought of Boromir who was lost to him. When he was calmer, he continued, 'and the foul things of darkness shall fall and flee before our shining blades!'
And they raised their glasses and toasted together, before talking long into the morning as only the best of friends can.
***
Phew, we can go back to Legolas at last! Yay! And Eowyn can still get Faramir!
Again, please tell me about any spelling errors.
