You sighed, flopping onto your bed. As a dutchess of Rohan, you were expected to be ladylike, to curtsy and cook and weave and not speak to a man unless spoken to- it was completely ludicrous, in your opinion. After all, shouldn't those who keep the population going have an equal, if not more say in the matters of the world? But alas, there wasn't much you could do about it except rebel against these norms by yourself. No other lady wanted to, which was quite appalling to you, as you would never want to have their boring lives, cooped up in their noble husbands' homes, cooking and weaving and having child after child. You didn't even want kids, but your parents wanted grandchildren, and so apparently that's all that mattered. Ugh. And today, there was yet another suitor coming to try and win your hand in marriage. Of course, if he was noble, your parents would approve of him immediately, but once the man met you, well, every single time he changed his mind.

It just seemed that all these men didn't want a wife who thought for herself. Oh well.

You heard the trumpets announcing the suitor was at your family's estate and reluctantly rose from your bed, walking out onto the balcony of your room to watch him arrive. To your surprise, your first impressions of him were positive. He rode through the gates on a strong brown horse- a sign of prosperity in Rohan was the health of your steed, so he was certainly an individual of wealth -but what impressed you the most about the way he rode was that not a single whip was in sight near him. You loved most animals, especially horses, and hated to see one mistreated, so this fellow scored some brownie points in that way. The next thing you noticed was that he was a lot more handsome than most of the suitors you'd seen. And then, as he surveyed the courtyard, he looked up to see you on the balcony and offered a brilliant, warm smile along with a friendly wave.

So he wanted to play Prince Charming, huh? Let's see about that.

You didn't acknowledge either of the well-intentioned gestures and instead grabbed ahold of a thick vine growing up the wall. In a move that would certainly get you in trouble later, you leaped off the balcony and swung down into the courtyard like a pirate, landing gracefully in front of the newcomer. You bowed to him and introduced yourself without even a hint of cordiality, but when you rose, you were astounded to see that his smile had widened at your unladylike behavior. He bowed to you in return and kissed your hand as he introduced himself;

"Boromir, eldest son of the Steward of Gondor. An honor, my lady."

"I prefer just Y/N."

"Just Y/N it is, then."

You finally let a smile creep onto your face. Perhaps this fellow wouldn't be so bad after all.