Disclaimer: I do not own LotRs.

Confrontation pt 2. Dee and her pap have a little talk, expect explosions. I'm really not looking forward to trying to get the battle written so expect a couple of time skips or i'll never have these chapters written.

loving all the feedback and review. looks like i'll be heading for confrontation between Duraen and Legolas and a romantic 'smut' reunion.
anyway, enjoy everyone.

Family Conflict

With some advice from Gandalf and careful planning, I approached Irolas and two of his subordinates the next day and ordered them to start evacuation the lower level, though I had to spend precious time convincing them to listen to me. "But My Lady, you can not mean to ..."

"Do I look like I am joking Irolas? Now just do it." I commanded the man. I wished I didn't have to sound so abrasive, but I needed to show these men I was dead serious. "But Lady Deorwynn, such an order could cause panic." One of the subordinates said, "Besides how can we be that prepared in time? The enemy is ready to strike within a day and there has been no word from Captain Faramir."

I stared hard at him, making him jump a little, "Then ready the people to move up to the second level when the attack begins. Place as many archers we can spare on the outer wall and have the catapults ready, find as many stones as we can use. If a day is all we have then let us use that day to prepare."

Irolas looked at me thoughtfully and asked in a concern tone, "My Lady, what happens when your father finds out about this?" I looked away for a moment, trying to imagine what his reaction would be.

No I didn't have time to be second guessing myself. "Then he finds out. If he is to be angry at anyone it will be me, not you."

Irolas nodded and bowed to me. "As you wish My lady." His subordinates quickly bowed to and left.

"Irolas." I beckoned the soldier to follow me. "Should the enemy bring catapults, how much of the city would be at risk?"

"Well, only the lower levels. We would have the advantage of the upper levels and their catapults. The main gate we could easily defend, but towers would be are main issue with the outer wall." Irolas stated. I nodded in agreement, remembering the fight at Helm's deep and the ladders. "So long as we can keep the gate closed, the orcs would have no other option than to use the towers, we can control the flow should they breach the wall"

I discussed further tactics with him and later that day I met with several other military figures, all without my father knowledge surprisingly. It seemed that spending all those years sitting idly by Father's side during meetings was indeed useful. After much convincing, my stern arguments and a quick word from Gandalf, they final accepted my orders. They were begin mobilizing their battalions and to ready for the attack.

All through that night, the city waited.

Waited for the dawn to bring the new day, when the army of Mordor will make its move. I needed to ready myself for a fight. For that I would need armour. As the first signs of light showed on the horizon, I heard the first of the drums. Wearing a white shirt and my trusty breeches, I pulled out the chainmail shirt I had brought from Rohan. It would suffice, but the lack of all my other armour would prove fatal this time.

In an odd way, it felt good to feel the slight scratch of the chainmail as I slid it over my head. Before I could straighten it out, pain once again stayed my hand. Another one of the red marks started to bleed.

A soft knock came from the door and Henea entered, carrying a large bundle. She never came this early. "Where is Selvica?" I asked, expecting the girl to be trudging along behind her.

"She was worried about her mother and siblings, so I sent her off to be with them. I thought you could use this." She said softly and placed the bundle on my bed. She unwrapped it and revealed a full set of armour complete with shoulder plates, thigh and shin guards, gauntlets, gloves, a breast plate and helmet, just small enough for me. I recognized it instantly.

"Henea, this is ..."
"Yes." She sighed, "This was Boromir's training armour. It's not as sturdy as a full set, but at least ... it will offer some protection."

I looked at her, gratitude filling my heart. "How did you know?"

Henea placed a hand on my shoulder, "I could just tell." She helped me put on the armour, adjusting it in the places I couldn't reach. I felt a lot heavier than usual, and some of my movements became limited.

"What are you going to do Milady?" Henea asked while tightening a buckle. "My first priority is making sure that the civilians will be safe. You should warn your family to be ready for an attack."

By the time she was done, the sun had completely come up, and the drumming became louder. The final touch was a dark blue cloak draped over my shoulders. Henea pinned it together with my Lorien Leaf brooch.

"Do take care Deorwynn." She said using my name, "I don't wish to see another one of my children fall." I embraced her tightly.

"Thank you Henea." I muttered. She held me for a long time and reluctantly let me go. After she left the room I reached for my sword, but as my fingers touched the hilt I felt as thought something was stabbing my hands, making drop the sword. I pulled off my gloves and watched in horror the cuts reappeared, slowly and painfully opening, bleeding profusely.

I sucked in a lungful of air to stop myself crying out, that's when I heard that cursed laughter again, mocking me. I put my gloves back on and tried to ignore the pain, even if it got worse when I slung my sword onto my hip.

I wasn't going to let something like a little pain hold me down.

In the distance, the black speaks that was Mordor's army slowly flooded across the Pelennor Fields. As it did I made my way through the halls, I passed the same lot of noble girls I had seen on my arrival gathered by a window like geese. One gasped audibly, another eyed me distastefully, like I was stark naked.

"Look at that."

"Is that ... Deorwynn?"

"She looks like a man."

"How Duraen is taken with her, I will never know."

To me their whispers rolled like water off a duck's back and I held my head high as I passed.

When I arrived at the citadel, I found Pippin running down one of the halls looking flustered. "Pip!" I called after him. He stopped and ran back to me, "Dee ... thank ... goodness. Where's ... Gandalf?" He asked breathlessly. I steadied him before he could topple over. "I haven't seen him. What is wrong?"

"Your fath ... I mean, Lord Denethor is in a fit of anger, yelling about Gandalf undermining him, or something like that."

Oh dear. It had begun. "Don't worry Pip, I'll handle my father." I said. Together we walked to the great hall and already I could hear Father's sloppy screams. We entered as he was yelling at one of the men I had spoken to the day before. Pip and I stuck close to the walls for now.

"I will not ask again Ceron, who ordered you to mobilize your troops?" Father's voice was so gruff it was hard to understand him, "I am the one you take orders from and I made no such command!"

The poor man held his helmet under his arm nervously and looked around at the other men, expecting them to help. A few of Father's closes advisers stood behind him, Duraen too. They stood silently as they watched.

"I swear if it was Mithrandir doing I will have him thrown out by his beard!" Father ranted.

I took a deep breath stepped out of the shadows, "It was not Mithrandir Father. I gave Ceron the order."

Father froze facing away from me while everyone else stared at me with various expressions. Duraen took one look at my appearance with my hand on the hilt of my sword and began to shake in his boots. Good, at least he remembered my threat.

"I bare full responsibility for the orders given to the guards, your anger should be directed to me."

Father slowly turned anger flooded his feature. But as he saw me, his face began to change, his eyes widened and his jaw began to tremble. As I walked closer, he began to mumble something over and over, and though no one else could understand, I knew what he was saying.

"My son. My Boromir."

He slowly came to his senses and knitted his eyebrows together. "You dare to defy my authority Deorwynn? You have no right here."

"I have every right to want to protect Minas Tirith Father, even if it means disobeying you." I said with confidence.

"No," Father shook his head at me, "No you are just a pawn. A mere pawn to be controlled by the wizard. What could you possibly do? You're a child."

"I am not a child anymore Father, nor am I a pawn." My voice grew louder with each word, making all the nobles cringe. "I am capable of making my own decisions without you dictating over my every move." I tried the hide that I was in pain as my hand began to sting. I gripped my sword even tighter.

What in all of Middle Earth was wrong with my hands?

"How dare you. After everything I have given you." Father said.

"What have you given me Father?"

He laughed mirthlessly, "Why, if I hadn't been for my generous nature, you would not have been able to learn any of you so called skills with the blade. I could have stopped your foolish games long ago, but I didn't. Perhaps I should have." He got me there, but my face remains stoic. I would not give him any satisfaction what so ever. Pippin, the nobles and the guards all slowly backed away, obviously trying to escape out little family spat.

"I have only even thought about your best interests." Father growled, but I just rolled my eyes at him, "Clearly, seeing as how you went and arranged my future behind my back."

"Silence!"

"No."

The look that came over his face did shake me a little. He looked like I had called him the worse kind of name, "My word is final, even to my children. You will ..." "No. I am through listening to you. All you do is pontificate about some glory you have done nothing to earn, and wallow in you on self pity."

I stormed passed him and headed for the main doors.

"Such disgraces, the pair of you!" Father shouted as he chased after me, "Boromir was the only one who respected me! You have no idea the pain I have been through and the burden I carry!"

I stopped in my tracks and spun round to face him, my cape flying around me. I silence him with a solid slap across his cheek that echoed all around. All the men winced. Father stood stunned, a red mark formed on his ashened skin. "Boromir is dead. You have no idea of the pain I went through, watching him die in my arms after succumbing to madness. I now carry that image for the rest of my life, while you have only perfect, unmarked memories of him. Faramir spent his whole life trying to please you and gave you nothing but respect, yet all you did was cast him into Boromir's shadow expecting nothing from him."

I was almost at the point of tears as I ranted, allowing my pent up frustrations to fuel my argument. I needed to say these things, and now was good a time as ever. I would have yelled for all time, had a soldier not come crashing through the doors.

"My Lord, one of the soldiers sent to Osgiliath has survived."

I looked at the poor man who had run all the way up to the citadel intently. What he said next almost knocked all the wind out me.

"It's Captain Faramir."