We were in sight of Minas Tirith now. It was everything Boromir had described it as. Now that we were so close, I insisted we stop so I could clean up. I was going to be meeting a very powerful man today, and needed to impress him as much as I could, which meant I needed to look every bit the regal seer. So, as I had in Lorien, I scrubbed my face pink and put on a clean black riding dress I had received in Rohan. Boromir, to my surprise, followed my lead, and when we remounted, he was every bit the Lord of Gondor.

As we drew closer, I heard trumpet calls coming from the city, and I looked questioningly at Boromir. He seemed to be basking in the moment, his chin high and a slight smile on his face. "They are signaling that a Lord of Gondor has returned."

We came to the Gates of the City, and guardsmen shouted at us in welcome. "My Lord Boromir has returned!" "Welcome home, my Lord!" The murmurs and welcome continued as we ascended the levels of the city, climbing higher and higher to the Tower of Ecthelion. We stopped at a stable and dismounted, Boromir greeting some of the men there. I hung back, unsure of what I was supposed to do. Eventually, we made it to the Tower, and I caught my first glimpse of the White Tree of Gondor.

I stopped as we reached the doors. "Game on," I muttered, stealing myself. The guards pushed to doors open, and we entered.

The first thing I thought when I saw the thrones was how silly and dangerous it was to have so many steps up to the King's Throne. I wondered if any of them had ever fallen off, and the thought relaxed me.

I turned to Denethor, who had risen and had taken his son in his arms, clearly fighting back tears. I stayed back, letting them have their moment. Whatever my thoughts may be on the man, he was Boromir's father. Finally, they turned to me.

"And who is this lovely lady," Denethor asked with a smile. I plastered a smile on my face, suddenly realizing that he wasn't the snake he had been portrayed in the stories. He was charming and warm, and that made him a thousand times more dangerous.

"Father, I present to you Lady Rose." I strode forward and curtsied as best as I could. I still hadn't managed to learn how to, but it seemed to please Denethor.

"And how did you and this beautiful lady become traveling companions," Denethor inquired as he sized me up. Evidently, I wasn't deemed a threat, because he quickly turned his attention to Boromir.

"She is a member of the Fellowship of the Ring," Boromir said. "She is a Seer of unmatched power…and my betrothed." I don't know who was more surprised, Denethor or me. Boromir shot me a look that clearly said "just go with it", so I did the only thing I could do.

I smiled and bat my eyelashes at Boromir, and played on fatherly pride."Your son is quite the charmer," I said with a smile. "It's clear who he gets it from." I sent up a quick prayer to any listening god that he would accept it.

Evidently, someone was listening. Denethor's smile widened, and he clapped his son's shoulder. "As charming as she is lovely. If she is truly a Seer as you say, you could not have made a better match. You have my blessing, son." Denethor pulled me forward and kissed both my cheeks, saying, "You remind me of my late wife. It is only fitting that you have her ring. She would have wanted you to have it. I will have it brought from the vaults."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, just smiled as hard as I could. I wasn't sure where Boromir was going with this, but I had to trust him as he had trusted me.

"Now, you must excuse my manners. My son and I have much to speak of," Denethor said, smiling warmly at me. Boromir and I exchanged a glance as his father returned to his throne.

"Rose should be here as well, Father. She was one of the Ring's escorts. She has proven invaluable to our quest." I eyed Denethor warily. I could see the indecision in his eyes, but his smile never wavered. Still, it was obvious when his Steward mask slipped into place.

"I see. I trust my son's judgement." He turned to Boromir. "You have not brought me the Ring." It sounded almost like a condemnation.

"The Ring was evil, Father. Even in the short while I was near it, I could feel its power. No good could have come of it." Denethor was not appeased. "It is beyond our hands now."

"Then you have doomed us all." The words were like a slap in the face. Gone was the warm father and kindly Steward.

"No." I stepped forward, ignoring the warning look Boromir shot me. "My Lord, there is much hope. But Gondor needs her defenses."

At this point, I was completely winging it. Nothing was going to plan. If this man was insane, it was buried deeply. He would never give up authority. My best hope now was to manipulate him into doing as I wished. But I had read how intelligent he was. Even Gandalf was wary of him. I recalled him telling Pippin, "He is not as other men of this time…by some chance the blood of Westernesse runs nearly true in him, as it does in his other son, Faramir, and yet did not in Boromir. He has long sight. He can perceive, if he bends his will thither, much of what is passing in the minds of men, even of those that dwell far off. It is difficult to deceive him, and dangerous to try." Still, I had to do my best.

"Then you know nothing. Hope is lost, I have seen it," Denethor said coldly.

"In your palantir," I returned icily. That seemed to get Denethor's attention. "It is dangerous to use such methods when their messages can be so easily manipulated."

When he looked at me, I could see the cold and calculating man hiding behind his eyes. And I knew he could read more than my words when he looked at me. "And what would you know of such things?" It was just shy of being an accusation.

"I see more than you know, Denethor, son of Ecthelion. And you are not the only one to have been manipulated by the palantir. Saruman was driven mad by it. What he saw were lies, as well."

"What proof do you have of this," he challenged. "Osgiliath has fallen, and all signs now point to a certain defeat."

"Peregrin Took also looked into the palantir, and he saw someone that he did not expect," I said, the implications clear. "I do not try to deceive you, Steward, as you can well read in me." He eyed me warily. "Yes, I know of your many skills. I come to you now at the turning of the tide." I hoped Gandalf wouldn't mind me borrowing his line. "Osgiliath has been overrun, and Faramir will return tomorrow wounded and near death, but alive. The Beacons of Minas Tirith have been lit, and even now the armies of the West ride to your aid, Denethor. In two days, the armies of Mordor will be at your door and the Siege of Minas Tirith will begin." I met his eyes dead on.

Denethor's eyes flicked behind me to Boromir. I don't know what he read there, but a smile flickered across his face. "You have chosen wisely, Boromir." I didn't quite trust Denethor, but I had played my cards, though I did not believe for a second that I had won.

I inclined my head to Denethor. "Please excuse me, my Lords, for I must speak with the White Wizard." I turned, but paused by Boromir, my voice low as I warned him. "Mordor's siege engine will be here in two days. Do what you can." And with that, I strode out of the throne room without a backwards glance.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

I knocked on the door and it swung open, revealing an irritated wizard. "You've been busy," I commented dryly as I swept past him into the room.

"As have you," he replied pointedly. "Minas Tirith is buzzing about Boromir's mysterious betrothed."

I walked out to the balcony and took in the red view of Mordor in the distance. "Yes, well, it came as a surprise to me as well. I don't know who was more shocked, me or Denethor. I can only trust that Boromir had a good reason for it." I turned to him. "Did Pippin pledge himself to Denethor?"

Gandalf nodded, eyeing me speculatively. "Evidently you told him to let Denethor believe his son was dead. He did as you asked, and is now pledged to the Steward. I can only trust you had some good reason for this."

"I did, but much has changed. Denethor was supposed to be mad with grief, but that is not the impression I got when we spoke."

"Don't let his mask fool you. His madness lurks below the surface." He looked at me, then. "You have changed much since the frightened, insecure child I met in Imladris. She would have been no match for one so formidable as Denethor."

I didn't say anything, and for a long while, we stared out across Pelennor fields.

"This waiting is killing me," I murmured. It was as though I had carefully set up dominos, and I was holding my breath, waiting to see if they would fall as I wanted them to. Gandalf said nothing, and I rose from my perch on the railing. "I'm going to find Boromir."

I was waylaid on my hunt by a maid with instructions to take me to the room I would be staying in. It was in the section housing the Stewards family, and evidently next to Boromir's suite (I had made a point to ask). I was a little overwhelmed at the grandeur of the room, and picked at my black linen dress uncomfortably. If I were going to play Boromir's betrothed, I should probably look the part.

I scrubbed myself clean and pinned my hair away from my face, and changed into a soft lavender dress I found in the closet. It reminded me of the dress Liv Tyler had worn in the movies, though I picked it mostly because it was the only thing in the closet that didn't look like it required an instruction manual. The night was getting cold, and I was relieved to find a cloak in the closet. It was dark blue and velvet, and the white tree of Gondor was embroidered on the back. Comfortable and clean again, I left the room.

It took me a while, but I did eventually track him down. He was in some sort of barracks, directing men in what I could only assume were siege preparations. For a moment, I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, just observing him in what was clearly his natural state. Clearly he had taken the opportunity to clean up as well, because he was clean shaven and, for once, he wasn't wearing any form of armor. The White Tree bloomed proudly on his chest, and he looked more at home than I had ever seen him. He was beautiful to me.

"Excuse me, my lady." I stepped out of the way and finally drew Boromir's attention. He smiled at me and held out his hand. I returned his smile and went to him, kissing his cheek.

"I never thought I would be so happy to see a woman in Gondor's colors," he said quietly, fingering the soft material of the cloak. "They suit you."

"Not that you're biased," I said dryly, though I smiled to acknowledge the compliment. "I've never seen you without armor."

"You've rarely seen me in a place I was comfortable enough not to need it," he pointed out. "Even in Lorien, the elves made me…uncomfortable."

"Me, too," I said softly, thinking of Galadriel. "So, we're betrothed, are we?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you going to tell me at some point, or let me find out on our wedding day?"

He grimaced slightly, then sighed. "I have asked Aragorn for your hand, and he has given his blessing. I had intended to ask you, but it never seemed the right time. When we saw my father, I realized time had run out, and we needed him to accept you." He dug pulled out a small pouch from his waist that I had assumed was a coinpurse. He opened it, and a small ring fell out onto his hand. Until then, I had thought the engagement was a ruse. I looked up at him in shock. "Rose, will you marry me?"

I had expected some huge battle in my head, but when he asked the question, I knew there was only one answer. It was as natural as breathing. "I will marry you, Boromir of Gondor."

He smiled at me, and slipped the ring onto my finger. "It's my mother's ring." I was surprised that it fit perfectly, and my shock must have shown on my face. "I took one of your gloves and had the jeweler size the ring. You have smaller hands than my mother."

I smiled and kissed him. "It's lovely." A throat being cleared drew our attention, and we looked up to see a soldier.

"I apologize for interrupting, but you are needed, my Lord," the man said awkwardly.

"Proceed," Boromir commanded, turning to him. The man rattled away some problem, but used too many technical terms, and I didn't understand it. Boromir didn't skip a beat, but rattled off an equally technical solution. As the man left, Boromir turned back to me. "I need to continue preparations. My father has left too much undone, and Gondor's defenses are not what they should be. May I see you when I finish?"

"Actually, I can be of some use here," I said, turning my attention to the maps. "I know some of the tactics the enemy will be using." There was no way to describe the look of Boromir's face. It was somewhere between shock, awe, and relief. I almost laughed. "Don't look so surprised. This is what I'm here for. Ok, let's get started."

It was slow going at first, as we poured over the maps. I realized with frustration that my magical ability to understand Common did not include being able to read or write it. Everything I tried to write down was in English. Instead, I simply told him everything about the battle that I remembered, and let him write down what he thought he needed to. I was finally free to be completely open about everything I knew, including Aragorn and the army of betrayers, because everyone had already been set on their paths. Here, finally, I was real help. My presence and active participation in planning drew many looks from the soldiers passing through, but they didn't comment.

Conversation made me look up from the list I was writing (ideas I would have to read aloud to Boromir). At some point during the night, the room had cleared and I had gotten accustomed to the quiet, and it seemed new shifts of men were beginning to enter the hall. Through the window, I saw grey dawn beginning to lighten the sky. It seemed we had worked through the night and been up for 24 hours, after several days' hard travel.

I stood up and stretched, then shook out my cramping hand. Quills were different than pens, and it had taken me several false starts before I had been able to write legibly. The first thing I was inventing was going to be a pencil. Boromir was sitting on the far end of the table, his head in his hands as he poured over yet another map.

I walked over to him and began to rub his shoulders. He leaned back against me and closed his eyes. "Boromir, let's get some breakfast and go to bed. We're both exhausted, and you'll be useless to anyone if you don't get some sleep." That he didn't argue was testament that he was as worn out as I was. Instead, he stood and we gathered our cloaks from the chair where we had dumped them earlier.

The air was clean and cold, our breath fogging as we walked. I suddenly regretted the thin dress I had chosen. My body still had not adjusted to the cold of Middle Earth and I shivered, pulling the hood of my cloak over my head. Boromir, evidently unfazed by the cold, put his arm over my shoulders and drew me closer into his warmth. I smiled gratefully up at him. "At least it's not as bad as Caradhras," I murmured. Even though it had only been a few months since I'd nearly frozen to death on the mountain, it seemed like years. Stupid evil mountains.

Boromir led me to the kitchens. Apparently, he was a frequent visitor, as the staff, many of them older women, treated him like a favorite son. They fussed over us and we both received hugs and kisses. They twittered about how skinny we both were, and kept bringing hot food and drink. By the time we left, we were stuffed and warm.

I patted my stomach happily as we entered the Royal Quarters. "I think I have a food baby." He snorted with laughter. "Don't mock. Looks like you might have one, too," I said, poking his side teasingly.

He laughed. "You aren't supposed to comment on a gentleman's paunch."

"Pft, there isn't an ounce of fat on you, and you know it. You're just fishing for—" I broke off on a massive, eye watering yawn. Boromir's yawn was even bigger than mine. (I bet you're fighting a yawn right now! Just TRY not to.)

"Alright, to bed for both of us. If you are up first, wake me, please." He nodded and I kissed his cheek before slipping into my own room. I stripped off my clothes and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.