Daughter of Arathorn

A Maiden's Heart

A season had passed and Elia found she had enjoyed her time in Gondor. They had a training ground and she practiced with her daggers daily. She would go in every morning and would leave every evening.

One morning, she was in her same spot, spinning a dagger around in her hand. She concentrated on the target in front of her. She breathed in as she stretched her arm out, aiming the dagger towards the middle of the target. She took the dagger by the tip of its blade, careful not to slice her skin and flipped it into the air, and then caught it by the handle. She flipped it back so she held the tip of the blade between her fingers. She held it back and then threw it, the dagger landed right in the middle of the target. "You have some skills with daggers," Boromir said as he approached her, "How are you with a sword?"

"My brother is better with a sword. I like to believe I have my own skills to separate myself from him," she said.

"You speak of your brother often, but you mentioned that it has been some years since you have seen him?" Boromir asked.

"I send him letters so he does not worry over me," she replied as she removed the dagger from the target, "Estel is a good brother, a bit overprotective, that's why I went out on this journey on my own."

Boromir nodded his head slowly and he sat down on the stone ledge by the stairs that led to the training ground. "What have you learned about yourself since you started your journey so long ago?" he asked.

"I have learned much about myself," she replied, "One....I am very capable of taking care of myself. Also, I have learned that I must sacrifice a piece of my heart to keep someone I care about safe from a dark fate."

Elia swallowed as she looked at the daggers in her hands. They were gifts from Legolas when he saw she was a better fighter with daggers. He had them made just for her. The handles had gold engraved into the handles. The designs on the handles looked like vines, symbolic to the kind of woman she was growing into. She was always growing, always learning. "Elia?" Boromir called out, making her look up, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she assured him with a small smile, "It's just been a busy morning already."

"Well, you were awake before the birds," Boromir said. Elia raised her brow. "The maids talk," he said. She laughed a little and pushed a dark curl behind her ear. As she put her stuff away, she didn't notice that the Steward's son was watching her with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

Evening fell, Elia sat at the table with Boromir, Faramir, and Denethor. She wasn't sure how she felt about the clothing the women wore at Minas Tirith as they felt more...confining than the dresses she was used to wearing. "How are you enjoying your stay, Lady Elia?" Denethor asked, taking her out of her thoughts.

"It has been a good visit," she replied smiling softly, "Minas Tirith is quite beautiful."

"It is, it used to be a lot more beautiful when Mordor was silent," Denethor said beore breaking apart the pieces of chicken in front of him.

Elia smiled at one of the servant boys who filled their goblets with more wine. "Thank you," she said with a soft smile. Denethor observed the woman at his table. He looked at Boromir and noticed that out of the corner of his eye, Boromir looked at her as though she were a precious jewel. He internally smirked, perhaps this woman would do his son some good. After all, his line had to continue after he was gone.

Winter turned into spring. Elia was in the stable brushing Belegroc's coat. "Mellon nin," she said softly, stroking his neck.

"Good afternoon, Elia," Boromir said.

Elia turned to him and smiled softly. "Lord Boromir," she said, bowing her head.

"Are you going for a ride?" he asked.

"I was thinking about it," she replied.

"Would you like some company?" he asked.

She thought about it and looked at Belegroc as though her horse would give her an answer. "Of course," she replied.

They saddled their horses and rode off together.

They were in the fields, heading towards the docks. "There are not a lot of boats docked here," She said.

"Unfortunately, not. Mordor has made it difficult for us to keep our trades with other cities by water. We have to do them by land, but that is even more dangerous," Boromir replied.

"These are uncertain times," she said.

"They truly are," he replied.

Boromir looked over at Elia as she stroked Belegroc's mane. "I have heard a rumor that you might be leaving us soon," he said.

Elia shrugged her shoulders. "I miss my family. It has been so long since I have seen my brother," she said.

"Will you come back?" he asked.

"I am unsure," she replied.

Boromir was silent again and Elia looked over at the man. She could see he was debating what he wanted to say next. "What if you had a reason to come back?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?" she asked confused. Now her heart skipped a beat at what he was suggesting.

"I have been trying to figure out how to explain how I feel. Since we first met you were all I thought about in the years that you were gone. When you came back, I thought it was fate giving me another chance to get to know you. I have gotten to know you. I see your strength as well as your beauty," he said.

"Boromir," she said. He stopped and Elia looked at him. "Before you continue any further, I must be honest with you," she said.

"What is it?" he asked.

As she thought over her words, she knew no matter what she said it would hurt him. She was looking for a friend, she should have been clearer about it. She let out a deep breath, because no matter what her heart already belonged to another. "I cannot give you what you seek," she replied. Elia watched as Boromir's face fell. She hurt him, she knew she hurt him. There was no way to avoid it. "I'm sorry," she whispered before riding back towards Minas Tirith.

That night, Elia packed her belongings and made her way to the stables. "Just like that you give my son false hope and you leave?" Denethor asked.

"I did not give him anything," Elia said, "I was looking for friendship and I made a mistake on making him believe there could be more."

"Ergo giving him false hope," Denethor said angrily, "Would it be so horrible to even try?"

Elia looked at the man, holding onto Belegroc's reins. "I cannot give my heart to your son, as it belongs to another," she said.

"You traveled all the way to Gondor just to make a friend?" Denethor demanded.

"With all due respect, My Lord...I do not have to justify myself to you," Elia said. She swung her satchel over Belegroc's neck.

"Then who holds the fair maiden's heart?" Denethor demanded.

"Who holds my heart is a secret I do not have to, nor wish to, share," she said. Elia climbed up onto the horse's back.

Denethor glared at the woman. "You cast aside a man as good and loyal as Boromir for a man who does not seem worthy of your heart," he said.

"On the contrary, Lord Denethor, since you keep pushing the subject, it is I who is not worthy of his heart," she said. She yanked on her reins. "Farewell," she said before riding out of the stables. She had to leave Minas Tirith, and she could never return.