A rider came early in the day, blood and filth covered him, marring the White Tree that was on his breastplate, his helmet long gone. Aeardis intercepted the man before he could even enter the Tower Hall to have word with Lord Denethor, "What news has come from Osgiliath?" She asked, all too eager and afraid to hear the answer.
"The final bridge over the Anduin has been destroyed," a tired smile filled with unfathomable relief appeared on the soldier's face and was contagious. "Gondor is safe," he declared. He continued on his way to deliver the message to the Steward.
She stopped a passing sentry, "Have my horse saddled and brought to the Houses of Healing." The man nodded and she fled from the Citadel gates to the next level of the city. When she burst through the doors of the infirmary several of the healers dropped the containers and books that had been in their hands and some of the men jumped from their bed in alarm.
"Lady Aeardis!" Ioreth said in a scolding tone but did not manage to say anything else for fear that the young woman would explode from joy. "I bring glad tidings," anticipation was bubbling up in her voice. "The battle has been won, Gondor is safe and remains strong." The healers did not rejoice as the wounded did, their jobs were still far from over. Even though the battle had been won, there would still be those returning to the city injured. Having spoken her piece, she left, finding an auburn stallion waiting for her, saddled with two packed bags compliments of her handmaiden, Nimmien, who knew how eager she was to see Boromir once again, and an old tattered cloak.
The ride to Osgiliath seemed to take hours, the Pelennor Fields passed in a haze of green, speckled with the occasional patch of wildflowers. Behind her was Lord Denethor's caravan, making haste toward the reclaimed city as while. Cries of victory could be heard on the wind before the ruins came into sight. Men were celebrating with ale and emboldened stories from the battle.
Aeardis slipped from her horse, tying the stallion next to those that belonged to the cavalry, she tied the cloak off beneath her chin and raised the hood, entering through the western gates. Exterior streets were picketed with tents and supplies, the celebration was coming from the city's center.
For a couple of minutes, she was able to pass unnoticed by everyone, though that could not last long. It seemed even the old cloak of a ranger could not disguise her from the men that she had spent long days and nights with while mapping out strategy and discussing plans with Boromir and Faramir. They knew her well. "Lady Aeardis! It is good to see a fair face," it took her a moment to place who had spoken.
She smiled and clasped the armored man on his shoulder, "As it is good to see yours, Ganelon." Aeardis skimmed over the nearby men but did not see Ganelon's brother anywhere near, "How fairs Ulric?"
His smile faded at the mention of his brother, "He was sent to the Houses of Healing this morning, an arrow to the shoulder." Aeardis nodded, understanding his worry, but it was misplaced. Gondor's healers were only rivaled by the elves. "Your brother is in good hands then," she assured him, and Ganelon's smile returned.
Pushing through the crowd, she caught glimpse of another soldier whom she had grown rather fond of since their first encounter. He had a helmet tucked under his arm, hand still resting uneasily on the hilt of his sword as if he could not fully believe it was over. "Eradan!" Aeardis exclaimed. The man in question turned abruptly with a large grin. "The true Jewel of Gondor has arrived," he declared and several of the others surrounding him chimed in, raising their tankards of ale.
A tinge of pink rushed to her cheeks, "Such flattery is unwarranted." Eregond joined his brother, passing Eradan a mug to join in on the celebration. Aeardis glanced over her shoulder and back to the twins, "I search for Boromir and Faramir, have you seen them?"
Eregond nodded and pointed eastward, "In the old market."
She nodded her thanks and pushed through the soldiers that lined the streets, but must have been stopped a dozen more times by those wishing to speak with her of their kin. Alas, she reached the heart of Osgiliath, atop one of the crumbling towers was a white flag bearing the sigil of Gondor. It was Denethor she noticed first, and then Faramir, yet it was Boromir who spotted her in the sea of silver plate and mail.
"Aeardis!" Boromir flung her name to the breeze, and she ran to him, the hood of her cloak slipping off to reveal tousled chestnut hair. He picked her up and spun her around, her willowy hands slipping to rest on his armored shoulders. "It seems lifetimes since I've seen you." He said as he set her down, and kissed the crown of her hair, relishing the smell of her damp hair and perfume.
"It has not been that long," she chided and his grin broadened, everything was right again once more.
As the afternoon fell, more ale had been rolled out and now a feast was in the works. She and Faramir had spent most of the hours together as Boromir was busying himself with restoration efforts and future defense, something between him and his father had soured his mood. Soon Faramir wandered off too, leaving her with several Rangers, that was until Denethor summoned her to his pavilion that had been set up on the outskirts of the city. "Ready your things, Aeardis, you and Boromir shall set forth to Rivendell on the morrow."
"My lord?" She asked, not sure if she had heard him correctly. He rose from his chair with a goblet of red wine. "There is to be a council meeting of the races of Middle Earth," he clarified, "you are to go with my son on my behalf." Aeardis knew that there would be no point in arguing with the Steward's command lest it make him view her in an even more unfavorable manner, so even with her doubts and confusion, she nodded.
"Of course, my lord." Excusing herself she returned to her own tent and began gathering items that would be necessary for a long trek across the country.
By candlelight, she scrawled out a poorly written letter to Théodred as the king had fallen ill, informing him that she and Boromir would be traveling through Rohan in the coming weeks and that if time allowed they wished to seek solace in Edoras. She hadn't heard him slip into her tent, so when he spoke it sent her heart racing as she fumbled for a dagger. He chuckled at the fading panicked expression that Aeardis wore. "Where are you going?" Boromir asked, his gaze settling upon the packed bags at her side.
"With you," she replied, "Your father has commanded it."
The Captain-General sighed. He was not displeased by the notion of her accompanying him on such a long journey, but without a doubt, it would perilous and thus her simple dresses would not be a feasible substitute for armor.
"This won't do. You need armor," he took Aeardis by the arm and pulled her from the tent and into another located on the opposite side of the encampment, furthest away from the river. The Steward-Prince sifted through the pile of dented and mismatched pieces of plate armor, setting aside those that appeared to be small enough. She protested when he tightened the breastplate over her dress and set to adding shoulder pauldrons, vambraces, and flauds.
Lastly, he dropped a helmet on her head and stepped back to look over. Ridiculous was an understatement, none of it fit properly and it was difficult to move, she would never be able to draw a bow or wield a sword. That didn't quite seem to matter to Boromir though, he was pleased to see that it would protect her, she would be safe. "It may not be the best of fit but it should serve its purpose."
"I look ridiculous!" Aeardis cried, holding her arms out to her sides.
"I would agree," Faramir chimed in as he entered the tent with a white stone goblet of ale. "We've spare clothing of the rangers that you can have," those words had been directed at Aeardis though now he spoke more to his brother than her, "with a shirt of mail it will do her more good than ill-fitting plate, brother."
Come first light each of them had saddled their mounts and packed provisions and necessities for the long road to Rivendell. Boromir slung his shield across his back and placed the Horn of Gondor's leather baldric over his head as well. Aeardis tied her sword and sheath to the saddle, looking up at the white flag that rustled in the breeze. A raven had been sent to Rohan carrying her letter from the previous night. Osgiliath was still quite as most of the men had not awakened, not even Lord Denethor had come to see his son off. At the city gates, Faramir stood alone, wearing a solemn expression.
Aeardis rushed forward and threw her arms around the Ranger, he was quick to return the embrace. "Take care of yourself," she told him in a firm voice that made it sound like an order. Faramir nodded, a slight smile was beginning to work its way onto his lips, "I wish you safe travels. Don't let my brother drive you mad." He said and she bit down on her bottom lip, nodding back in return.
She mounted her horse, as Boromir mounted his, though he looked down at his brother with small, saddened smile. "Remember today, little brother." Saying nothing more, the traveling pair departed from the gates of the reclaimed city and turned northwest. Several long months lay ahead of them.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
The low mound of coals throbbed like the heart of some great beast. Occasionally, a patch of gold sparks flared into existence and raced across the surface of the wood before vanishing into a white-hot crevice. The dying remnants of the fire they had built cast a dim red light over the surrounding area, revealing a patch of rocky soil, a few grey bushes, the indistinct mass of a tree further off, then nothing. Night had fully settled over the land.
Boromir unclasped his cloak, passing it wordlessly to Aeardis. She swathed herself in the material and smiled in thanks. It still held his warmth and his scent, with a faint flush of color on her cheeks she clung to it as if it were a precious gift. For a long moment, they were both silent until he spoke, "Does this seem like the right decision?" There was doubt in his voice, there always seemed to be doubt when it came to matters off the field of battle.
Aeardis frowned for a moment, this had all happened so suddenly, it didn't feel natural. "Truthfully, I do not know. Faramir is better suited for things of a diplomatic nature." With that statement a faint smile overtook her features, it was hard to imagine the Captain-General as a diplomat, however, that was one of the many things she was able to balance out.
"And I am not?" Boromir inquired, feigning to be injured by her blunt words.
She shook her head. "You have a terrible habit of swinging a sword before asking questions," her gaze turned toward the fire between them, and with fondness in her voice she added, "and being too stubborn for your own good."
They both laid back on the bedrolls beneath the stars. Minas Tirith was leagues behind them now. Home was behind them, and the wide wilderness of Middle Earth lay between them and Rivendell.