Title: Red Handed

Summary: A ten-year-old Eowyn uses Boromir's sword for a bit of practice.

Prompt: "Exhalation"

Word count: 222

The broad sword fell from her little hands, crashing to the ground with a piercing clatter that echoed through the empty hall like an alarm. Eowyn held her breath, waiting for the approach of footsteps that would seal her doom. When no one came, she let out a breath of exhalation, relieved that she would be spared a lecture - at least for today.

Her fingers wrapped about the hilt of the sword and as she moved to stand, her eyes caught sight of a pair of boots at the very entrance of the hall. She stood, in one swift motion she moved the sword behind her back and met the gaze of her silent observer. "Good morn', my lord," She said with a short bow.

Boromir eyed her curiously. "Is that my sword?" He asked, stepping out of the shadows of the doorway. Eowyn brought the sword back to the forefront, she nodded and he frowned. "And what, pray tell, was her ladyship doing with it?" He crossed the short distance between them, hand extended out to her. Eowyn turned the sword 'round so that the end of the blade faced her stomach, Boromir took the weapon from her grasp, his teeth bit the inside of his mouth in quiet relief.

With a wane smile Eowyn replied, "I was practicing, my lord."