Chapter 33: Gondor

The meeting concluded soon after that as Gandalf laid out a path where there for a nonce no more than darkness and uncertainty, giving strength to everyone who had worried for what the future holds for all free people of Middle-Earth before the relentless enemy they all faced, who had seemed all but unstoppable with the news brought to the table.

So did most of the councilors go to marshal an army.

While the wizard and Boromir headed out to Gondor and Rivendell respectively.

Leaving the Warrior of Light to return to what was her present field of labor, feeling a little left out.

Though only because the task had begun to chafe a little.

Sighing to herself, H'aerindu made for the courtyard, only to find it slightly more crowded than when she left it. "Do my eyes deceive me, or are there even more people here now?" She asked for confirmation, "Augustus?"

"A few." The man replied, undaunted, "I've been trying to separate them into classes to streamline our work, but it's been hard."

Most of these probably haven't been on the school bench in years, if at all, so the difficulty he was having in that respect was unsurprising. "Separate them, for starters, based on whether they are of fighting age or not." H'aerindu replied after a thought, "We don't have all the time in the world to be teaching all of these people."

Augustus rubbed his chin, "Some here won't like that, but I see your point."

"That settled, how are things going otherwise?"

"As one can expected, though there are those two who have made noticeable progress."

H'aerindu felt inclined to believe one of them to be Eowyn. Instead what she found where he pointed was Legolas – to her complete lack of surprise, since elves to begin with have aetheric signatures far greater than their mortal Middle-Earth contemporaries – and Strider, who was quietly arguing about something with Boromir.

"Any idea what are they talking about?"

The hyur shrugged, "No clue, but we can't have them interrupting. So if you don't mind…"

"Yeah, I got it." H'aerindu accepted as she went to deal with it, though she managed to take only a few steps before Boromir decided to storm off with a huff, leaving Strider looking a bit miffed. Curious if nothing else, she walked up to them; "Care to tell me what that was about?"

Strider looked up at her, warily, "Only that he wanted me to come to Gondor with him. My decision on the matter was to refuse."

"How come?"

"The reason he gave," Legolas interjected before his friend could say anything, "was to potentially have him crowned as King of Gondor."

"Quite the turn-around considering his prior stance." H'aerindu hadn't forgotten the conversation that took place in the Council of Elrond about the subject of man's lineage. That he actually was a royal descendant was naturally a surprise, which leaft her to wonder why he was some ranger. Momentarily she lapsed, giving her an understanding of his reason without either of them noticing. "So am I right to assume Boromir thought it would give the people hope that this current situation's just one last shadow before the next golden age, or something?"

After blinking up at her in vague surprise, the elf smiled, "Indeed. That was precisely the reason."

"So what made you refuse?" H'aerindu hummed, looking at Strider.

"The inevitability that me assuming the throne so suddenly will be construed as me using the opportunity given by so desperate a time to attain power. Meaning my kingship would be forever tainted, and unlikely to ever birth a golden age as you say."

"Does that mean you're opening up to becoming the King?"

Strider scratched his cheek, looking a little embarrassed, "I've come to conclude that while I fear the possibility of me just repeating the acts of my distant forbears, I can no longer justify my selfish reasons to keep my distance." He sighed deeply, "That being said, I will not take the throne in that manner."

"You need to prove yourself first?"

"Indeed." Strider reluctantly nodded, "Only if I receive the unanimous approval of Gondor will I take the throne."

Quite the steep challenge he has set up for himself… "Does that mean you aim to partake?"

"Of course."

H'aerindu smiled, "In that case, here's to the hope you make a favorable impression. I'll try not to outshine you too much."

To this, Strider scoffed, though it was an amused one.

OoOoO

The first thing Boromir did when he was back in Minas Tirith was to take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh and delicious air of home, before he went to business. It had been a disappointment that he failed to prod Strider AKA Aragorn into joining him, but his metaphorical quiver was not out of arrows yet now that he had hope flowing in his veins.

It would cost Gandalf dearly if he did not come through.

After all, if this fails, Gondor would not be long for this world.

"My Lord!"

Boromir looked to a nearby bench as a man built like a brick wall stood up to walk over to him, who he wouldn't ever mistake for anyone else, "Damrod. I heard you were the last to see my brother before he vanished."

"Indeed." Damrod confirmed, "It is my greatest shame that I could do no more for him."

"I take it you have come here for redemption, then?"

"Vengeance." The man's acerbic tone could have cut through stone, "Though it and redemption may as well be the same as I well intend to put those beasts in the ground, and beside your brother I can think of no better a leader to stand with."

He snorted, "That is to say if you would have me."

"Of course. I will need all able commanders I can get." Boromir let that be his answer as he looked out over the crowded inner city, "Now, how are the preparations going?"

"We are in the process of receiving reinforcements from all across the breadth of Gondor, which is some help to be sure." Damrod said, but sighed, "Not enough for a most ideal scenario for the siege to come. For that we need to be outnumbered three to one, at most. For now it's looking to be twelve to one at least, in the Enemy's favor. I hope those messengers brings us the forces we need to balance it all out."

"You best temper your expectations, then."

"Lord?"

"Our northward allies are all engaged in battle, and Rohan will take time to recover from their recent losses." He gave him the short rundown on their situation, "That being said, Gandalf is currently trying to summon dignitaries from the other world, in the hope they can send us the reinforcements we need."

"Which brings us to what I need you to do first."

Damrod grimly nodded, "What do you need of me?"

"Gather up a suitable honor guard for when they arrive, and then lead them to the Citadel. I'll be going ahead to see my father."

"Understood, lord."

Trusting him to do this much, Boromir left the plaza to proceed climbing up the city's tiers, each separated by thick walls and difference in elevation that brought ever more of his attention toward the great fields outside the fortress city, its expansive farmlands set aflame by Faramir's rearguard units as they withdrew.

It was chilling to watch all the black smoke approaching, driven here by a westward wind.

Like it heralded the march to come.

Boromir suppressed an involuntary shiver and while trying to ignore his thoughts climbed up to the top tier where he was greeted by the old white tree that has stood here since times of eld in a withering state despite all their efforts to mend it.

Only the return of the King would see it recover to its former splendor.

If the old tales hold true, that is.

For a brief moment he considered how Gondor has wilted away over the passing of generations, then shook it off as he hastened to the throne room. Looking upon the white tree was like watching his land in a microcosm, how it has faded from the greatness it once held till all that remained was a bleak shadow of its former self. A parable to how even the greatest of nations fade away… He had no time for such cruel mercies.

So to distract, he declared himself strongly at the throne room door and was ushered inside.

Where he found his father seated in the chiseled chair reserved for the Steward, located at the base of the pearly steps that lead up to the King's empty throne.

No one has sat in it since the Kings of old.

Having regretted his earlier decision to disparage Aragorn before a full audience, he had attempted to have him agree to come so the throne could at last be filled.

To no avail.

"Father," Boromir said, setting himself to a knee, "I have returned."

"Stand up, son of mine." Denethor raised an aging hand, and he complied, "I trust you are done with your dalliance?"

"Dalliance?" He probed, suppressing a scoff, "My decision to join the Fellowship was made toward ensuring the destruction of the Ring."

"And not because you grew enamored toward its bearer? I hear she's quite a pretty thing."

That was part of his initial motivation, yes, before common sense knocked such out of him. After understanding that she was less than half his age, Boromir had to confront the fact that it was wildly inappropriate. Since then his desire had been quite tempered by a certain professional distance. "Please, perish the thought." He did not rise to the bait, "My service has ever been to Gondor first and foremost."

Denethor snorted, "Not enough to take the Ring and bring it here, that is for certain…"

And here we go…

"It was the Council's decision that it be destroyed. I was overruled."

"You can still rectify that mistake…"

"No, I cannot."

Father did not like hearing that at all, "If we claim the Ring, victory would be in our grasp!"

"Father, with all due respect, I refuse."

"You dare…!?"

"Only because I recognize we need something far more substantial now that we have enemies at our gates, poised to destroy all we hold dear." Boromir stated bluntly, "We need allies, father, now more than ever."

The old Steward scoffed, waving it off, "I have already dispatched requests for aid."

"I'm aware, but it won't work. Our northward allies are all engaged, and Rohan's depleted. We can not expect help from them for at least a number of days as they regroup. Our sole hope of reinforcements come from the Eorzean Alliance."

"The otherworlders?"

"You may disapprove, but I will accept any help we can get." Boromir said, "Gandalf, the last I saw him, went to talk to them on our behalf. It is my hope that it won't be long till they come. Consequently it is my hope that when they do, you will keep from mentioning the Ring, for the ring-bearer's standing with them is indelible."

"How…" Denethor glared, about to go on another tirade when the door opened.

"Steward!" One of the fair-armored doorwards entered, snapping to attention, "We have visitors requesting an audience!"

Rubbing his temples, his father asked; "Who is it?"

"It is Gandalf, along with a host declared as members of something called the Eorzean Alliance!"

Already? Boromir was surprised by the promptness.

Denethor ground his teeth, but a solemn glare from his son was enough to make him concede for the present, "Let them in."

The doorward nodded, and stepped out.

After that the door was opened wide to allow the visitors to enter, headed by an elf-like man of tall stature decked in a suit richly colored in blue hues, and a dour bronze giant wearing armor complete with a helmet sporting long horns. An eclectic gathering from an eclectic world. Denethor still wore his angry frown, but his manner transformed into something resembling warm hospitality. Boromir was tempted to roll his eyes at the forced change, but he suppressed it for all of their sakes. Now was not the time to start another argument.

It was time to make ready for the coming storm.

OoOoO

H'aerindu yawned as she left the inn, her belly full from a hearty breakfast, ready to take on the new day though she did not expect overly much. The tutoring was continuing as well as it could be reasonably expected to, even after Augustus managed to at last separate the students between those who are of fighting age who can and will fight, and those who can't and won't fight. Slimming down the number of those they needed to focus on.

Leaving the rest for when and if they had time to spare.

That at least was good news.

"Excuse me!"

She looked up to find Éowyn holding her hand up in the air, beckoning for help. Seeing as the hyur was already neck deep in people to help, she decided to approach. "Do you need help with something?"

"If you'd evaluate my progress, that would be appreciated."

"Sure." She sat down in front of the noblewoman, settling into a cross-legged position, "Show me how far you've gotten."

Éowyn smiled and closed her eyes, straining as her brows started to twitch. H'aerindu closely watched over the following moments as the noblewoman's aether started to flicker like a flagging bonfire. It was plain to see that progress was being made with her, though it was not enough for application just yet. "You're doing better than last time… do you feel anything?"

"A little, I guess." Éowyn spoke, losing her concentration and causing the aether to fall still, "It's such a strange feeling. Is it normal?"

"You'll get used to it. Now keep on trying until it becomes second nature."

"O-okay."

"After that you can proceed to the next step."

With that carrot hanging in place, H'aerindu pushed herself back up and left the noblewoman to check on the others. Like with Éowyn their process was going slow, and with no past references she was unsure whether she was doing anything wrong. Augustus seemed to have no issue, but what would her grandmother say were she to see this? A train of thought that plagued her as she went from one person to the next, until it was entirely lost when an actual train barged in in the form of a bulky roegadyn in full armor. "Oi!" Still Water barked, probably flattening an unfortunate someone with his voice, "I've been doing warm-ups all morning, when will you come train me!"

"You've done nary a squat," Miana yelled behind him, "Get to it, you big palooka!"

"That ain't fair!"

"I'll get to you when I get to you." H'aerindu said, not looking away from the more local warrior she was currently attending, "Not one moment before."

"Aw!"

"You think you got it bad?" Miana called out, "I'm getting the worst of it because I got to spend so much time watching you fool around when I could be carousing with people more worthy of my undivided attention!"

"Like some busty bar wenches?" Augustus dryly chimed in, "Am I right, or am I right?"

"Tch!"

H'aerindu rolled her eyes at the colorful antics of her compatriots before continuing her round, observing and instructing for the next few hours till she was reasonably sure no more could be be done for now. Leaving only the oaf, who could surely wait till she's had lunch, which led her back to the inn where a smorgasbord was being organized. H'aerindu found herself a platter and with a fork in hand proceeded to start filling it up.

Vegetables.

Grains.

Whatever came to mind, before she got to the most important part.

Meat.

H'aerindu let her gaze wander to some delectable-looking venison and was about to sink her fork into the only serving left when another fork intercepted hers, stopping her for an instant before darting over to stab through the venison. Not on my watch! Not hesitating she shot the fork forward and filtered it into the prongs of the opposing fork. Looking up after succeeding to delay the capture of her precious food, she met the eyes of her enemy. "What do you think you're doing?!" H'aerindu glared at the only person who'd dare to contest her.

Aside from Y'shtola, that is.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Dagasi growled back at her, with added emphasis.

Wrenching her fork free, she made for the venison once more. H'aerindu did not let her, and within instants they both exchanged their platters for knives and started fencing for the meat in a flurry of motions too fast for the average person to see.

The auri hissed, "Give it!"

"No, I'll be taking tha—"

Neither of them were willing to give in, about to escalate when they were both hit upside the head.

With metal containers no less.

Having the benefit of headgear to cushion it, H'aerindu – courtesy of her flat cap cushioning the blow – fared better from the blow than Dagasi who immediately crumpled into a low crouch clutching her head. Leaving the brunette to look up at the huge chef, whose visage was enough to overshadow her completely.

"No fighting here," He barked, "or I'll throw you two out heads first!"

"Y-yes…" She replied, having the grace to act sheepish.

After that the chef left, and the females settled for glaring at one another… until the venison was snatched away by someone passing by.

""Ah!""

Only supreme restraint kept them from pouncing on the man, leaving them to watch him walk off to an available seat in resignation, their shoulders drooping from the disappointment. "Your fault." Dagasi groused after several moments.

"Mine?" H'aerindu wasn't having any of it, "You were the one who struck first!"

"If you hadn't insisted on fighting…"

"Don't you talk like you got some kind of high ground on me!"

Their fight seemed bound to restart, but the chef shooting another irascible glare their way was enough to dissuade them. Knowing that one more strike would lead to them not being able to eat the food here anymore, their hostility fizzled out in an awkward manner. "Hmpf…" H'aerindu forced her outrage down into a frown and turned back to the platter she left amid the argument, and settled for taking a serving of hot beef stew.

With it in hand she made way to sit and chow down.

Leading to the terrible realization for the both of them that only two spots were available, forcing them to sit immediately adjacent to one another.

After a little bit of uneasy shuffled they settled down in silence.

Until one of them decided to break it.

"How is that training thing going?" Dagasi asked.

"… Really?"

"If we have to sit next to each other we might as well fill the air!"

What audacity this woman had, talking like she was not at fault for the prior disaster. Nevertheless she resisted the impulse to shake her head. "What is there to say?" H'aerindu asked, "The training is going slow, or I think so."

"Uh-huh."

"What do you mean, 'uh-huh'?"

Dagasi sighed, "You sure you're not expecting too much from them."

"How could I?" H'aerindu raised a brow, "These people until very recently thought magic to be the sole domain of elves and wizards. It never even occurred to them that they could do anything like that before we came. So no, I'm not expecting much at all from them, especially on such short notice."

"Impatience, then?"

"That… that might be it. We'll have to leave before long, so I had hoped for some results soonish."

"In that case, have you tried circulating their aether yourself?"

H'aerindu was about to give her a rebuttal on that, but she stopped herself and instead considered the suggestion seriously. As a way of teaching it was quite dangerous, but if done correctly it could be likened to applying a warm weight to loosen up aching muscles. "I take it that's a thing where you're from?"

"Helps getting the slow of learning to keep up."

If it doesn't render their insides into mush first…

"Hmm, I'll give it a try then." H'aerindu was unhappy at the source of the suggestion, but nevertheless she was willing to put it to use as her skill at aether manipulation was great enough that she should be able to use it safely.

On that note she chowed down the rest of the food.

"You'll get a bellyache eating that fast."

"No food has ever disagreed with me before." She said just before she finished cleaning out the platter and stood up to leave, pausing only to look at the auri's unbothered face, "Thank you for the suggestion."

"Yeah yeah, just go." Dagasi groaned, her expression twisting at the notion of having aided her at all.

Not needing to be told twice she left the inn, and hastened back to find that Augustus has made some progress separating people based on whether they can fight in the war or not, giving them a smaller target group to focus on.

Much props to him.

Acknowledging that, she homed in on Éowyn who in her unbroken if not overzealous dedication has not budged an inch since she left her. H'aerindu raised a brow as she closed in, "Éowyn, miss, have you taken a break at all since last I checked on you?"

"A little." Éowyn replied, opening her eyes to look up, "Have you come to see my progress?"

"Not exactly, some sour-faced muse just inspired me to give something a try. That is, of course, with your permission."

"Alright. If it helps, I see no reason to decline."

"Then I won't hold back." H'aerindu proceeded to circle around and sit in a cross-legged position behind her, eyes narrowing as she viewed the flickering aether. "For what I'm going to do now, you'll need to pay attention and try to hang on."

Éowyn inclined her head in acknowledgment.

"Here I go…" H'aerindu raised her hands and placed them palms-first against the girl's shoulder blades, and gently reached out past them with her own aether so to brush against the noblewoman's own before she moved them up and down, following the muscles in short waves before moving to the next set.

Gently does it…

"Ah…"

"Does it hurt?" She quickly asked.

"N-no," Éowyn stuttered, her body shivering, "I'm fine… I'm fine."

H'aerindu blinked a the reaction, but shrugged it off as she continued to very gently shift the girl's aether about and noticed the effect this was having over the following minutes. Éowyn, who could only muster a small amount of her energy before this, was now coming to know about the true extent of her reserves. No doubt if she retried her previous exercise, the results would be far greater. Nevertheless she did not stop, and once she was finished with the back and sides moved on to parts of the arms and legs while careful not to let her hands wander too much.

Finishing shortly, the miqo'te sighed, "How are you feeling?"

"Great…" Éowyn breathed, looking at her hands, "More than that, actually. It's like I've never been truly alive before."

"Let's not exaggerate." She told her, feeling a little awkward, "Try channeling again, see how much you can mobilize by yourself, now."

The blonde nodded as she forced down her elation and assumed a more neutral posture as she redid the exercise under her teacher's watchful gaze. H'aerindu nodded in approval as the aether within activated to a degree far greater than what the noblewoman could manage before.

"H-how does it look?" Éowyn queried nervously.

"We still have a way to go if it's such an effort still, but you're doing much better now."

"A-am I?"

H'aerindu looked on the simpering smile as the noblewoman stuttered this, taking her words as the highest of praise, and confirmed. "Yep." Instead of lingering on that, though, she made a decision to move on immediately. "We're not meant to go this fast, but let us try something else. Take a breath and redo the channeling, except now – instead of just shifting your aether about – you will direct it into your muscles."

Éowyn blinked at the new exercise, but eager to try something new she went right to it, furrowing her brows as she focused.

It was more advanced an exercise, which became quite apparent.

While her attempt was earnest, it was quite clumsy. So much so, in fact, that H'aerindu could not quite avoid the mental image of Éowyn attempting to force a square cube into a triangular hole. Stifling the urge to giggle, she addressed her; "Not too bad, but you need to suffuse them with aether without forcing it."

"How?" She blanched, her face drenched in sweat.

"Follow the fibers from one tendon to the next, gently does it."

Éowyn did so, withdrawing at first before trying anew. This time more successfully as much of her muscle structure – except those parts she seemed less knowledgeable about – came to be suffused with the aether she supplied. H'aerindu felt like sighing as simply through this action the noblewoman has managed to augment her physical ability, even if not by an awful lot. "Much better, let's take this a little further."

Up the difficulty some.

H'aerindu summoned a sword from her inventory that she had picked up from somewhere she had since forgotten – a simple short sword made of iron – and held it out handle-first to the blonde who accepted it with an intake of breath. "Now while you're still suffusing your muscles, extend some of your aether into this weapon."

Éowyn made the attempt, though her eager face quickly scrunched up at the effort, "It's… hard."

"Naturally." H'aerindu replied, "An ordinary iron blade is rather bad where aether conductivity is concerned. You need to channel a whole lot in to achieve the desired effect. I could have loaned you a weapon with high aether conductivity, but we all start out with weapons like this first because of how expensive the latter tend to be."

"Expensive?"

"Producing weapons with high aether conductivity oft require very particular materials, among other strenuous things."

"I w-wonder if uncle would purchase a few if I asked…"

"You'd have to actually ask, and in that case have him seek out Gerolt. The man does good work, even if he's not very motivated much of the time."

"But that," She added, "is neither here nor there…"

Éowyn squeezed her eyes shut as she fed more aether into the iron blade, until an acceptable degree of infusion was attained.

"That is good enough." H'aerindu said, holding up a hand, "Now try to stand up while keeping at it."

"W-why stand up?"

"So you can give the rock a good thwack."

Nodding while sweating from every pore like she's been through a very solid workout, Éowyn pulled herself up… almost losing concentration a couple of times as she tried to walk. H'aerindu helped her along by holding a hand, leading the noblewoman forward till they reached the boulder… where she held the iron blade up with tremendous effort.

Under the gaze of many locals who paused in their own training to watch.

"Raaaah!" Éowyn cried as she let the blade and hit the stone.

Right after the impact she was unable to keep going and immediately stopped channeling, collapsing onto her knees and falling almost face-first into the soil as she breathed and wheezed in a state of complete exhaustion.

H'aerindu set down on a knee, patting her back.

"D-did it do anything?" Éowyn breathed, unaware of the people who approached to see what the noblewoman just did, "I couldn't see a thing."

"You did good, Éowyn. Look."

Éowyn looked up with great effort, and found first that the iron blade was still whole. Then, much to her growing amazement, discovered that she had indeed succeeded in cutting the stone. Said cut was no more than an inch deep or so… but it was far more than she could have accomplished with her natural strength alone.

"Did… did I do that?" She asked.

"You did." The brunette confirmed, "Now all that remains for you is to acclimate and make the whole process second nature, and you'll be all set."

"D-does that mean," Éowyn looked up hopefully, "we'll be doing the real training soon, then?"

"No, this much will suffice."

"What? Didn't you say earlier that…"

"I said that so you would commit to learning aether control, as you were rather fixated on training like you've always had." H'aerindu explained curtly, smirking, "It was a logical ruse."

"A ruse?" She echoed.

"Disappointed?"

"Well, a little." Éowyn rolled onto her back, sighing, "I was hoping that you could teach me some otherworldly techniques."

"If we both had an abundance of time, which we don't." H'aerindu sighed right back, "If you absolutely want to learn about techniques, I can give you directions to someone who can better find time to tutor you."

"I'm afraid those won't be up to snuff…"

"What high standards you have." She scoffed, "Anyway, I'll be off now. I need to hammer some basics into a certain someone before we move on."

Without waiting for the noblewoman's answer, she turned about and moved to leave. Satisfied with how fruitful this session has been, though H'aerindu would be lying if she said she wasn't relieved about her 'deal' with Théoden having all but reached completion. Of course there are those other people also, but Augustus had them well in hand.

Especially as the hyur seemed to be rather enjoying it.

H'aerindu wouldn't pry, of course, but she got the sense that he chose adventuring as a way to broaden his horizon and build credibility.

How many tutors can claim to have educated people from a different world?

Allowing herself a smile, she was about to step out of the area when she saw out the corner of her eyes someone who cut an elegant figure entering it – his features covered entirely by a lightly colored cloak – who spared the merest of moments to glance back her way. H'aerindu thought to approach this one, but to her eye nothing seemed wrong about him.

So she shrugged and stepped out.

Only to ultimately find Still Water snoring loudly on a patch of grass, with the lalafell standing over him looking about ready to throw a fit.

"Ah, H'aerindu!" Miana looked up at her, "It's horrible! The fool hardly practiced at all, seeming convinced that he needed none of the warm up. So not only did he not do anything, but he plopped down and fell asleep!"

"Well, that's his loss then if he starts aching at any time."

"You're still going to train him?"

"Are you that eager to have him kicked out?"

"Oh, absolutely." Miana huffed, "I'd get one less man to look at."

"That's your main concern?"

"Yes, so can we!?"

"Overruled." H'aerindu rolled her eyes, "Now would you do the honors?"

"Fine…" Miana drooped at the rejection, before she marched up to the giant and kicked his shin. "Oi, idiot, it's time to get up!"

To his mild credit Still Water was hardly bothered by this as he blinked awake and sat up to look up at them in mild confusion, until his eyes snapped into focus and were directed at her. "Is it finally my turn, now?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to make sure you regret not having warmed up."

"Hup!" Still Water whooped as he stood up, and performed the roegadyn's version of a planetary rotation as he faced her, ignoring what she said, "So this here skill you're going to teach me, what is it called?"

"Provoke." H'aerindu replied, trying to keep her face straight.

"Hoh, think I've heard of something like that before."

"You better. It's one of the basics of basics for marauders, let alone warriors. It honestly boggles the mind that you haven't learned it yet."

Still Water sniffed, unfazed, "So what do I gotta do?"

"For one you're going to start doing what you're supposed to be doing. That means protecting those weaker than yourself in the heat of battle." H'aerindu put her hands on her hips and told him plainly, all business now.

"As for the training itself," She continued, "We'll be playing tag."

"Huh?"

"You know what tag is, don't you?"

"O-of course," Still Water stammered, confusion etched on his face. "but how will that help?"

"As I said before your job is to protect the weak and vulnerable, like Miana, who, for the sake of your training will be running away from the pursuing attacker, who'll be me. Consequently your objective is to stop me from even touching her. To do so, however, you're not allowed to use force. Instead what you must do is activate your aether, and project your will and your fury onto me. When you succeed in doing so, I'll consider your training here complete." H'aerindu explained at length, "Do you understand?"

"I…" The giant looked like his brain was suffering a slow heat death, "I think so."

"Alright. You good with this, Miana?"

"I'll do it," Miana sighed, "but only since it's you… It doesn't matter where I run to, yes?"

"So long it doesn't trouble people."

"Alright, then I'm off!"

With that the lalafell kicked up some dust as she up and ran away, picking up speed as she built up to a full sprint.

"Are you ready for this?" H'aerindu asked of the roegadyn.

Still Water seemed mighty unsure of himself all of a sudden, faced with this challenge. Nevertheless he answered in the positive. Leaving the miqo'te to turn away, and give chase to the fleeing lalafell before he too followed.

Like a mountain lurching inexorably into motion.

Do your best… H'aerindu thought as she directed her attention forward only, and he made his first clumsy attempts.

OoOoO

The view granted from atop the Citadel of Minas Tirith was overwhelming in its grandeur. Located at about a thousand feet above the plains, it provided for a commanding view of the lands below which was useful now as Boromir took stock of what has happened since he stepped inside. Most of the farmland for which Pelennor plains was known had been reduced to cinders, and with the final abandonment of Rammas Echor, those who remained outside the city finally withdrew to the waiting safety past its mighty gates.

Leaving the bands of enemies closest at hand to pick through the ashes.

The few who weren't setting up camp within and without the massive outer wall, resting for what would the final push that would decide the course of this war.

It was a sight that made him feel sick.

"My lord." Damrod said, "You should not look too hard."

"Good call." Boromir admitted readily, tearing his gaze away from the carpet of black where green plains and tilled soil should otherwise have prevailed. "I take it the people are welcoming of the influx of foreign soldiers we are soon to receive?"

The meeting had proven more fruitful than he dared hope for, as the delegation – led by Raubahn Aldynn and Aymeric de Borel – made clear in no uncertain terms that Gondor's survival was in their interest.

So rather than being about the price for their participation, most of their talks boiled down to a smattering of war games where they talked about what they could contribute, and how best to integrate them into the city's defense. For reasons of political realities at home they could not bring to here as much as they'd like.

Boromir, however, was glad for anything they put on the table.

All in all the Eorzean Alliance would bring to bear about four thousand troops, along with ample supplies and equipment.

Including a copious amount of cannons.

Needless to say he was quite pleased with the outcome though their talks took better than a day, and was smiling all the way when the meetings concluded and the delegation left to make their preparations. "Good." He nodded, "The last we need now is any kind of unrest. We are strapped enough for time as it is without having to deal with such trifles."

"You have a notion of when the orcs will launch their next offensive?"

He did not answer.

Instead at first he turned back to the grandiose view, centering his gaze on the enemy horde with narrowed eyes of utmost intensity. Even from so far away he could see signs of the preparations taking place amid the debauchery as troops were moved and reallocated, as dragons feasted upon the flesh of fallen beasts, and machines were loudly given maintenance and checks. With all of that in mind he could draw a reasonable conclusion.

Boromir did not like what it implied, and prayed the Eorzeans would make it in time.

Author note: I really loathe how long this chapter took to write, and I look forward to leaving behind this hole of a 'training arc' I dug myself into. That being said, I had in mind for greater participation for Raubahn and Aymeric in this chapter, but couldn't stomach the inevitable politics so I ultimately decided to cut it very short. (And not at all because I'm so not social butterfly who had no idea how to even start it off without it coming off as awkward)

Legion32: Thank you. ^^

Kitsune Obsessed Freak: It's impossible to escape Smaug on land, so their only choice for survival was to hole up in their town and eventually boats, and hope the dragon tires waiting for them to come ashore, because the lake itself was anathema to the dragon.