Ohtar shuffled through the loose pieces of parchment and scrolls on his desk, looking for one in particular about the recent monetary affairs of the city. It had come to his attention that the city of Minas Tirith had not been properly paying the merchants that came from the port city of Pelargir. He moved over to a shelf filled with wrinkled papers and worn books.
"Aeardis, have you given any thought to marriage?" The question was sudden but clearly planned. Aeardis laughed and picked up the report her father had been looking for off the floor, as well as his reading stone and placed them back on his desk.
"You are grooming me to take your place as counselor to the steward, papa. Marriage is the least of my concerns." She was two-and-twenty now, past the age where most women marry and with no intentions of doing so. She was far too outspoken to be considered a good wife.
Ohtar chuckled and returned to his desk chair, smoothing out the scroll. "Of course." After a moment he looked up from the piece of parchment, the reading stone still held up to his eye, "Not even one of Denethor's sons? Boromir and Faramir are very fond of you."
Aeardis sat her book aside and frowned. She had not entertained thoughts such as those, "Boromir delights chiefly in arms, not in the company of womenfolk," she supposed she was the exception though as she had witnessed many a young maiden offer themselves to the future Steward of Gondor. "Faramir loves his books and strategy more than fair maidens." Aeardis sighed and her father smiled, he was not blind nor ignorant to the way she looked at Denethor's eldest son, nor the way he looked at his daughter. "They are both handsome, kind, and valiant, but are no more than my friends."
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He had received a letter from the Elder Council of Tol Eressëa, he was to be summoned for the century meeting amongst the isles of the Valar. The task would be simple, breaking the news to his daughter less so. "I must return to Tol Eressëa for a short while," he had told her whilst Cadarn and several other guards saddled horses and gathered provisions.
Aeardis's expression settled into a deep scowl at the suddenness of it all. She crossed her arms. "Remember what I have taught you, Aeardis." Despite everything she nodded and tried to stop the way her bottom lip quivered.
"Why can't I come with you?" She finally asked the tone of her voice and manner of the question made her sound like a small child again. "I miss the sea, papa."
Ohtar pressed his hand against her cheek. "I know you do, but you must hold my position while I am away." Aeardis nodded, though not without reluctance, and squeezed her eyes shut when her father leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I love you, nemir."
"And I you, papa. I wish you safe travels." Ohtar smiled and Aeardis knew that everything would be all right. She went as far as the main gate of the city then watched as the small group of riders faded over the horizon.
For the remaining hours of the morning, she sorted through ledgers and letters that had been scattered about her father's office. Some had been checked over, others needed to be completed. Aeardis gathered those that would need her attention first and piled them on the lebethron desk.
Come the afternoon her sadness was nearly forgotten as trumpets sounded over the city and welcomed home soldiers and rangers from a victory near Cair Andros to the North. The streets had been lined with wives and children, sisters and brothers, mother and fathers awaiting to see their soldier returning. Minas Tirith's great gates creaked and groaned as they were opened. Boromir and Faramir walked next to one another, trailing behind Hirluin, who led the procession through the city gates.
Aeardis pressed her heels into the sides of the spotted grey stallion and raced down to meet the returning army. She stopped at the gate to the third level of the city and sent the horse back toward the citadel.
Two small children stood next to her, a girl with a bundle of wildflowers and boy with a wooden sword. Several men broke formation and ran to greet their loved ones, the rest remained stoic, marching in line toward the next level of the city. Aeardis could feel a large smile stretch across her lips when she spotted the two brothers.
Boromir had seen her first, though.
The young commander broke ranks and raced over to the side of the street with no thought of repercussions. He crushed her against his chest, into the unyielding silver plate and mail. Aeardis felt the stubble of his jaw against her cheek and revealed in the way his arms tightened around her just before he released her. "Finally, a fair sight to see!" Boromir exclaimed.
She laughed, "I fear that I must admit that it does get lonesome around here without your stubborn self." The Steward-Prince grinned. "Faramir!" A broad smile stretched across Aeardis's lips when the younger of the two brothers appeared at Boromir's side.
"Aeardis," Faramir greeted and she quickly brought him into her arms, glad to see that the two of them had returned safely.
That night there was a feast to celebrate. The Great Hall had been prepared, kegs of ale and casks of wine were brought to sit upon one of the banquet tables, each of them tapped and ready to fill numerous glasses. On platters carried by two, three roast boar marched into the hall with trays of roast potatoes and tomatoes. Aeardis poured a small glass of the sweet summerwine and took a seat next to Faramir. "Your brother seems to be enjoying himself," she mused, watching the warrior move between conversations, some more solemn, others involving tells of battle no doubt.
"This is his element," Faramir commented. The two slipped into silence until Aeardis stood. "Would you like to come to the library with me?" She inquired, "I fear I won't be able to tolerate this raucous much longer."
Faramir smiled and stood as well, though he extended his hand toward the doors of the hall, "Lead the way, my lady."
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"The Lady Aeardis watches us today," Faramir told his told brother as he straightened one of his bracers. Some of the men had already taken a partner and began sparring, though the Steward-Princes had not. Boromir glanced to where she stood. The simple dress stood out against the white stone and silver soldiers for its deep burgundy color, the same color as sweet summertime wine.
Her eyes skimmed over the gathering of men, she spoke to some and smiled at others but it seemed to them that she was searching for someone in particular.
Boromir stepped out of the armory, belting his sword's scabbard around his waist. He crossed the training yard, toward the place where Aeardis stood and reached up for her hand, which she presented to him with a coy-type of smile that drove him to near madness. "Dear Lady, may I ask your favour to wear?"
The lady laughed at the obscurity of her dear friend's actions, though, in truth, she expected nothing less. "I have none to give, Lord Boromir," she said, trying to sound disheartened that such a brave warrior would not be blessed with a useless trinket. Some of the men laughed at her boldness, for many knew her just as well as the two brothers did.
"A kiss will do then," came his quick request and many of the gathered men laughed at both their leader 's request and the lady's reaction. She feigned shock. "It may," Aeardis began, "but I dare not give something so precious away on such a whim. Protect my honor and you shall have your kiss." The gallant soldier beamed, it would hardly be a difficult feat to accomplish.
One of the men asked Boromir to test his metal, he obliged in haste despite still feeling the effects of overindulging in ale the previous night. When the match started all others stopped, watching their commander and the ease in which he could wield a blade. Aeardis believed Boromir's opponent to be named Orik, the man was older than her dear friend, but not by much.
The start of the spar was clumsy on both parties' parts. The Steward-Prince ducked and slammed the flat of his sword against Orik's breastplate. That had been when the surrounding men chose sides, many shouted Boromir's name while others chanted Orik. Aeardis covered her slight smile as Orik landed a blow to Boromir's arm.
The sound of clashing swords rang through the courtyard as the two dueled. Orik wore a grin now as his shield clashed with Boromir's. Boromir wore a grin as well as his sword sang through the air. Watching Boromir fight was equal parts fascinating and terrifying. He turned battle into art- a deadly art- but one none the same. Aeardis watched the lithe warrior and found herself captivated by the intense gaze of his eyes as he calculated each stroke and blow. The two men circled each other, and for a brief moment, Boromir's eyes met hers again. She shook her head lightly, scolding him almost.
Boromir edged backward and forwards, feinting and striking evenly. The two warriors were evenly matched it seemed, though at the moment Boromir was on the offense. Boromir glanced in Aeardis's direction again. This time his gaze lasted for a second or two longer. In that moment, Orik stepped up to the attack, and Boromir continued fighting in divided attention. Once the gaze broke, Boromir returned to the fight all the more empowered and ferociously. Aeardis shook her head, Boromir was showing off.
Caught off guard, Orik retreated a few steps. Boromir's sword came forward, again and again, his opponent parrying each stroke, before with a swift twist, his sword was flung from his grasp. There was a moment of silence before the surrounding men irrupted into cheers and the two soldiers clasped forearms in good sportsmanship.
He jogged over to where she stood and looked up at her, expectantly. "Aeardis." She leaned over the stone rail and left a soft kiss upon Boromir's cheek. Some of the men whistled, others laughed. He smiled at her and though it was not the kiss he had wished for it was sweet nonetheless.
Translations:
Nemir - Water Jewel