The Eve of War

"We should have told him," Eomer spoke from beside Menna, the two of them on a higher level of the Healing Houses, looking down upon Eowyn, now healed, as she spoke with Faramir, brother of Boromir, under the moonlight for he too had suffered some injuries of his own.

From what Boromir had told them, when they all gathered in the House of Healing to tend to their wounds after their latest victory, his brother had been gravelly injured in a battle shortly before the one they fought in. Pippin, once he was assured Merry would survive, the other Hobbit having aided Eowyn and nearly lost his own life, had gone into great detail of what they had endured. His father had not been agreeable, at all, to their pleas for help, for lighting the beacons, for believing a danger was coming. From what Pippin had said, the man had initially thought Boromir dead. They had not realized the man did not carry his horn with him any longer, that he had cast it into the river for it had split in two during the ambush on their camp. He had thought himself undeserving of the relic, for how he failed Frodo and his oath.

It had floated down the rivers till fate brought it to Gondor.

Upon seeing Boromir alive, the man had initially accused Gandalf of foul sorcery, that it was a trick or some truly black magic that returned his son to life. Once they had convinced him the man lived on, he'd then flown into such a desperation to not lose his heir that he had Boromir constantly watched, had guards stationed around him, and refused to allow Boromir anywhere near any fighting to come. He had gone so far as to have the man dragged by a handful of soldiers into a room and locked away, guards everywhere to keep him off the battlefield Faramir had been sent to. Faramir, Pippin said, had born the brunt of their father's ire and rage. The man had not been pleased to have Faramir as his heir when he thought Boromir dead, had been the one to send Faramir to war despite Boromir demanding to take his brother's place. Their father had cared little for Faramir, had not even displayed an ounce of regret or mourning even when he had seen Faramir's broken body when all thought him dead. Boromir had raged at the thought of losing his brother in such a way, had finally escaped his confines, had usurped his father's role as steward and taken control of what remained of the armies and defenses.

While Boromir had been focused on that, his father had decided if he was so easily cast off by his own son, his people turning on him, then he would take from Boromir too, himself and his other son.

It had been Pippin to save the still-living Faramir, who had used the brief lesson she had given him and thrown her best knife at the man before he could set fire to himself and his second son upon a pyre. He had pulled Faramir from the man, who fell to the pyre, alighting it as he breathed his last, but Faramir lived and that was what mattered.

Faramir lived and Boromir stood as Steward, deferring to Aragorn for command of what was to come next.

Aragorn had asked for but a single day, for all to rest, to be tended to, before he would hear reports of their numbers and resources.

She could not sleep, as had become her norm, and had found herself wandering to the Houses of Healing, coming upon Eomer as he kept watch over his sister from the shadows, the man having lost so much so quickly, he could not trust that Eowyn was safe and well till he saw her survive the night. Though given how she was walking about and smiling at Faramir, she would survive many, many nights to come.

"We should have told them both," Eomer continued when she did not speak.

Menna let out a long breath, "Eowyn lives," she remarked, "She may yet learn the truth, one day."

"And Theoden King?" Eomer glanced at her, then back to Eowyn to keep the tears in his eyes from falling at the reminder that their uncle was gone from this world, "You heard tell of it."

Menna had to look away at his words, the…not harsh, but disheartened edge in his voice.

Eowyn, once she had rested, had recounted to Eomer the last moments of their uncle, unaware she could hear, tending to some of the injuries the Fellowship sustained nearby. He had praised her, spoken of how she saved him, had reassured her he went to his mighty fathers. But as he faded, as the last of his strength failed him, she had heard him whisper but two names, those of two most dear to him. Children, his blood and the blood of his kin, the only four of so many to live through infancy. He called out to them, as though greeting them, as though they were to whom he went.

She had had to excuse herself, claiming she was going to check on Merry who lay in another area of the Houses, unable to bear hearing that.

For she knew one name was his son, and the other's was her own, her true name.

It had not escaped her notice that Theoden King died, believing her dead when she yet lived.

It, also, had not escaped her notice that Eowyn had nearly gone the same path, yet she remained and still did not know the truth.

"All is revealed in death," she stated, for it was the only comfort she could find in the mess of it all, that hope that, when Theoden reached his ancestors, he would see and learn and know who she was and that she lived and had come home to save it from the darkness.

Eomer let out a long breath himself, turning to her, "You must tell her," he insisted, and she knew he meant Eowyn.

"If you think this was the last battle, I assure you it was not," she countered, "Frodo will either succeed or fail, and if he fails…"

She did not need to say more for him to know it would mean the decimation of Men, for the Dark Lord would undoubtedly attack with all he had.

"She deserves to know then," Eomer continued, "If she shares Theoden King's fate…"

Menna gave him a look, "And if Frodo succeeds but a battle still comes?" she countered, "If I fall? I have said before Eomer, I will not have them suffer twice."

Eomer looked away.

Menna swallowed hard, taking a breath, and reaching out to take his hand, "I will tell her," she promised, "If Frodo succeeds, when this is over, I will tell her."

Eomer smiled.

~8~

It had been a long night, tending to the wounded, ensuring those who had passed had been removed from the Pelennor Fields. But their fight was not yet over, it became clear when Gandalf called for the Fellowship to gather in one of the tower halls of Minas Tirith to inform them of all he had learned while he, Pippin, and Boromir had been trying to secure Gondor. Pippin had refrained from coming, sitting with Merry to ensure he was well, if all Hobbits could not join then no Hobbit would he'd said. Menna and Eomer attended this meeting, Menna for she had joined the Fellowship and Eomer as his soldiers were part of the battles past and deserved to know as the now-King of Rohan what their enemies were doing.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight," Gandalf informed them, an edge of doubt and fear to his voice that had them tensing and shifting where they stood, "The darkness is deepening."

His words left a pit in the stomachs of all, Man, Dwarf, and Elf. It had been a fool's hope to think that battle had been the last of it, that they had paved the way for Frodo to do what must be done and could remain in peace. It had been dangerous to think they had decimated the Dark Lord's army, that there were no other enemies left to fight. Still, they had had that hope, small though it was, to lose it was still unsettling.

"But it has not spread," Menna pointed out, "He cannot have the Ring. Frodo must yet live."

Aragorn nodded his agreement from where he stood beside her, Eomer in a chair on the other side of her, "If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it."

It was all too true. As Menna had said to Eomer only hours ago, if the Dark Lord grew victorious, his wrath and devastation would be felt in all corners of Middle Earth. They had not seen such a show of strength or evil, therefore he could not be as powerful as he if he had the Ring in his possession.

Gandalf, though, was not reassured, still deeply worried, "It's only a matter of time. He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping."

"Let him stay there!" Gimli snapped, having seated himself in the Steward's seat, Boromir nearby, the Man initially amused by the Dwarf's antics and choice of seat but now grew serious in the face of such news, "Let him rot. Why should we care?"

"There is no telling what he will use those forces for," Boromir pointed out to Gimli, "He may attack the remaining forces of Men."

"Or he may set those ten thousand Orcs between Frodo and Mount Doom," Gandalf added, his face so pale it nearly matched his cloak, "I have sent him to his death."

"No," Aragorn called out, drawing Gandalf's attention, "There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth," he looked among those in the room, all watching him, serious, till he turned to Gandalf, "We can give him that."

"How?"

"We fight," Menna realized what Aragorn meant, "Sauron cannot resist the chance to cut down our numbers, he could not resist with Helm's Deep nor just now on the Pelennor Fields."

"Aye," Aragorn nodded, "We draw out Sauron' s armies, empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

As Gimli chocked on the pipe he was smoking, Eomer stood from his own seat, "We cannot achieve victory from strength of arms," he remarked, hesitant. Had he been but a soldier, he would gladly command what troops were needed to stand beside Gondor's own army. But he was king now…he had to consider his people, they had already fought two battles, their numbers already hacked away…he did not know if they could survive a third attempt.

"Not for ourselves," Aragorn continued, "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us."

"So long as he looks to us, he would not see Frodo growing nearer," Boromir agreed.

"A diversion," Legolas breathed.

Gandalf, though, appeared hesitant still, "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait!"

"He might," Menna countered, "He would see Men too prideful, believing they could defeat him as they have twice before. He would see a true chance to decimate his enemy, not bait. He would not expect us to risk our lives for Frodo, for he would not do so for anyone himself."

Gandalf fell silent at that, her point very sure. All they knew of the Dark Lord was his greed and evil and wrath, there was nothing in him that held love save for power. He would not risk himself to save another, he would think his enemies the same. For he could not do so, therefore no one else would.

"Certainty of death," Gimli considered it, "Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?!"

Boromir chuckled and patted Gimli on the back.

~8~

"I will stand beside you, Aragorn," Menna's voice cut through Aragorn's thoughts.

He was standing at the balcony of a tower in Gondor, looking out at the city below, lost in his thoughts, there were so many and they were so tumultuous it was hard to keep but a single one in place.

Part of him had known that he was to one day rule Gondor, to take his place as its king. Another part of him had doubted it would happen, that perhaps one day it would be his son to take that crown, not him. Had this Quest not come about, he did not think this would have happened. He could have gone on, living his life as a Ranger, he would have been with Arwen.

He could not picture that life any longer, for he had changed, he had become a different man than the boy who held those dreams. He saw purpose in him now, he saw all he could do for his kingdom, he saw a different woman at his side. He saw this future so clearly he wondered, at times, if he had visions as Lord Elrond did.

With every foe they felled, with every battle they fought, with every victory they gained, that future grew nearer and he held more hope to see it happen. Their numbers had always been less than their enemies, their skill less, their energy less, yet they won. Men won against the forces of Sauron. If they could win those battles, they could surely win this one or, at the very least, hold the Dark Lord's attention long enough to give Frodo a chance. They were so close, they had to hold on but a little longer to rid the world of the greatest darkness and evil it had ever seen.

He smiled at Menna's words, expecting them. And he knew she did not say them as a declaration or to ease his mind, to assure him he would not face this enemy alone. But in challenge, she was telling him, in no uncertain terms, that she would fight in this battle as she had all others before. She would not be excluded, she would not be confined or held back, for this world, Middle Earth, was her home as much as it was his. It was not about Rohan or Gondor any longer, but about the land of all beings.

"I have come to expect as much," Aragorn murmured, turning to look at her, smiling at her gently.

"Good," she smiled in return, turning to look out at the city beyond.

Aragorn continued to look at her though, studying the side of her face in the moonlight, not for the first time, nor, he was sure, the last. He had considered, to himself, the best way to speak to Menna of the thoughts that lingered in his mind, for he had not told her everything of his plans for once the Dark Lord had been dealt with. He did know the Queen he wished to rule beside, but he had come to learn that Menna did not seem to pick up on subtleties when in regard to herself. He wished to be clear with her, that she was the Queen he envisioned for his people, but he knew he must tread carefully.

The Nameless grew to not expect anything from anyone, to not speak of their own desires, for there was little chance they would be fulfilled. Even now she doubted, though he sensed it lessening with each day and each obstacle overcome. HE would need to be the one to make the first steps, to broach the subject, for she would never ask of anything for herself.

And wasn't that the perfection of a Queen, to put others, her people, before herself? No kingdom could ever fall with such care bestowed upon it. He counted himself lucky to be among the few that had received such care directed at him personally.

Still, he would need to be the one to make the offer, to ask her, and he found himself hesitating to do so. Not out of a lack of desire, for he wished nothing more, but…a hesitation born out of the unknown. While they had survived to this point, there was nothing to say they would both survive the next battle. If he fell or if she did, it would hurt all the more to have had that future dangled so close and lose it. But, at the same time, if he did not make the offer and one of them was lost not knowing how much the other cared? He was not sure he could bear it if he lost Menna without her realizing how much she truly meant to him. He had told her she was everything to him, he had not lied, but he wanted her to know he was serious, that he loved her enough to share everything with her too, from his heart to his crown, to risk everything to be with her and her alone.

"Both now," Aragorn continued, "And after."

It was amusing to him that it took Menna a moment of nodding along with his words, before they seemed to reach her. She stilled and turned to him, a question in her eyes.

"You are young, Menna," he spoke, "But wise. I have heard your counsel many times, and I see the true wisdom in it. I would not lose that."

Menna continued to look at him, and he stood unflinching under her gaze, allowing her what time she needed to gather and speak her thoughts.

Menna, for her part, could not help but tear apart every word he said, comparing it with what she knew of him, what had occurred between them, and the tone he used. For while he spoke of her supposed wisdom…though she had come to doubt that in herself given the mistakes she had made so long ago…she knew, or she hoped, that was not the entirety of what he felt.

For the first time in so long…she wanted.

She wanted something for herself that was not born of necessity or survival. She wanted her pack, to protect her minimal belongings, she wanted knives, for protection, she wanted a cloak, for the winter. She had not dared to allow herself to want her family back, so convinced was she they would not wish her returned to them.

So much had changed on this quest, SHE had changed.

She felt, that with each enemy they conquered, she herself conquered something else within her, some objection, some obstacle, some poison or darkness that had lingered there for far too long. She had not lied to Aragorn when she said the Ring reminded her too much of ill-gotten memories. She had always the sense of that blackness around Wormtongue, had felt in her bones the way that darkness settled around the king, spread through the Golden Halls of her home. Perhaps it had been her age, being the youngest, she felt and saw more than most. She could not say.

It had not been till Eomer reminded her of Wormtongue's poisonous words that she had begun to think of how she viewed herself and WHEN she had begun to do so. For her family had never made her feel badly in her fear of horses or skill with a sword being so lacking. Her cousins especially had always encouraged her, her uncle reassuring that there were other strengths to be found, that while the Horse Lords of Rohan were known for that, it was not ALL they could do.

She had begun to realize she had been poisoned by those words of Grima's as Theoden King had, though not to such an extent as the late king. It was not HER belief or thoughts that drove her from her home, but those of Wormtongue. Had she not fallen under his sway, she would never have left her family.

It had not been HER.

It was not her.

She had saved her home in Helm's Deep, fought for it. She had helped beat back the darkness that threatened Gondor. And now she would march with others to face this evil once and for all and…she deserved happiness.

When all this was over, she finally, finally realized, that she deserved family and home and happiness and love. She had found all that and more with Aragorn, though it was not just him who led her to this. It was Eomer, Eowyn, Theoden, her family, her people. It was Merry and Pippin, it was Gimli and Legolas, it was Boromir and Gandalf. It was Galadriel, even Lord Elrond.

So many others had put value and trust in her when she felt she had none and deserved none, it was not for nothing. Someone truly Nameless, who earned that punishment, would never receive what she had from those around her.

Right now, it was only her choice to remain Nameless that kept her so, and she did this only for the restraints it freed her from.

If she spoke her name, reclaimed it, she would be expected to obey Eomer, as head of her family and her king. For all that she fought against Aragorn's lead or commands, she did not think she would have the heart to do so against her family after all this time, after all she had lost, she would not be willing to risk it. And she could always defend her refusal of Aragorn's orders for a willful ignorance of his status as the King of Gondor, her continued teasing that he was not king as proof, or she could even go so far as to say he had not been coronated and therefore could give her no orders. But Eomer? It was not the same thing.

If she revealed herself now, she would be held back.

Being Nameless, now, only meant that none could command her. For being Nameless and holding no family meant she had no home, no kingdom to belong to, no King to obey. They could not stop her marching with them.

…but after…

When the fighting was over and peace and light returned to Middle Earth, she wanted all she had lost returned to her. Her name, her family, her place, she had fought for it, bled for it, suffered for it, she had more than proven herself deserving of it all and she knew now that she had never NOT been deserving of it before.

She would still disobey her king, for she had lived too long under no one's command but her own, in different ways though. She would speak up, she would argue, she would talk and debate. She could hold her own now in a way she doubted she would have had she stayed.

She would not go so far as to call what Wormtongue had done to her a blessing, she had lost too much and suffered too much to ever think that.

But, in a way, it was as Aragorn had said, the past made them who they were. She would not be who she was if she had not left when she had. She would have been raised in court with a King, taught 'her place,' kept from what she wished to do, much like Eowyn. She would not have travelled to all the places she had, learned about so many cultures, seen and experienced all she had, the good and the bad and the terrible.

It reminded her, somewhat, of the trees of Fangorn Forest. The older trees were so thick and tall and strong that their shade left little room for the newer trees and plants to thrive. She had had to leave her home, she believed this, to grow in a way she could not in Rohan. And now she had grown, she was who she believed she was meant to be, she had proven she could stand on her own and endure anything that came her way. There was nothing she could not handle nor succeed at…save riding a horse or wielding a sword and that was not the great shame she once thought it to be as a child.

She did not need to be an expert swordsman or ride a horse as though she were born on one.

She had survived two great battles and three ambushes without aid of a horse nor relying on a sword. What need had she for them? They were part of her culture, but they were not all that defined her.

She looked at Aragorn's eyes, the man still watching her despite how her mind had drifted, the softness in his eyes truly did speak of more than just seeking her counsel.

"And is that all you see in me, Aragorn?" she asked, "In us? A wise pairing?"

"No," he admitted, "I would see you beside me always, Menna, in all things."

"That may prove difficult," she remarked, fighting a smirk from growing across her face as she turned to look out at the city again.

"How so?"

"You are a Dúnedain," she reminded him with a light shrug, "You would travel by horse and, forgive me, but I would rather avoid them if I could."

He shook his head at her, smiling lightly, "We could trek by foot," he countered, knowing this was her teasing and speaking as though he were not to truly be King when this was done.

"All across Middle Earth?"

"As though you have not already," he laughed.

She had to nod at that, she had been…many, many places in the time she'd spent travelling.

"Though," Aragorn continued, "There is one place I do not think even you have been before."

"And where is that?" she turned her head to look at him.

"Sitting on a throne of Gondor."

Menna felt her heart stop for but a moment. She knew she teased him often about his supposed crown, his so-called status as heir of Isildur, being the rightful king of Gondor. But she was not so foolish as to not see the signs around her. Perhaps at first she truly had not thought him to be the king he claimed himself to be. Being Nameless, one did not trust that quickly. There were many a man who would claim royal blood to lay with a woman and abandon her later.

She did not think Aragorn the sort, not from his character as she grew to know him, but also that he made no attempts to woo or court her after it was revealed.

But she had been careful not to believe too much of that claim, part of her, smaller than it had been, still did not believe it. She doubted she would believe it until she saw him officially crowned and upon the very throne he spoke of.

She was not blind, she had seen the way Boromir deferred to him, how Gandalf treated him, the way Theoden King acted about him, as though his equal and not superior. She knew the Army of the Dead could not have been freed of their magic if he was not the true heir. She just…she enjoyed teasing him about it, for every time she did, he engaged in something or displayed some trait that made him seem more kingly to her. She also…perhaps…wanted him to know that she had grown fond of him and had come to care for him not because of such a crown, but because of who he was as a person.

To have him say what he had, to make it so clear what he intended…she did not know how to react to that.

For, clearly, he intended to ask her hand, to have her be Queen to his King, for she could think of no other reason why a man, any man, would offer someone a throne, their throne, if not to share it. She knew in his words he did not mean it as a mere offer to sit upon it for a moment, but to hold it. Even all those years ago when she held a title herself, she had never thought herself a future Queen. Theodred would be king of Rohan, there were not many other kingdoms to be found that would wish an alliance with them, not the Elves nor Dwarves, Gondor was one. And if anyone would be wed to a future king, to be a future Queen, it would be Eowyn as the eldest, even more so now that she had had all the proper upbringing of a true princess.

It was odd, to, on one hand, envision a life with Aragorn, at his side, and, on the other, be unable to picture herself as Queen when he was King.

"Aragorn…" she began, opening and closing her mouth to search for the words to express all she felt and thought, for she could not allow him to make such an offer before she had said something else to him…

"Aragorn!" another voice called out, startling them both, even Aragorn, with its sudden appearance. They turned to see Boromir walking towards them, looking between them and hesitating to approach, as though realizing he may have interrupted something he ought not to have.

"Boromir?" Aragorn turned to him, straightening, knowing the man would not have sought him out if it was not for a serious matter.

"Apologies," Boromir glanced at Menna, then to Aragorn, "Eomer has requested we meet once more to detail the strategy for the morrow."

Aragorn nearly winced at the reminder, he had been set to meet the man…quite some time ago, it appeared, but had gotten distracted by his thoughts and Menna. Eomer had gone to gather reports of what men, horses, weapons, and resources his people still had so as to better create their battle plans. It appeared he had fallen remiss in his duty to meet with the man.

"Aye," he nodded, glancing at Menna, "You should rest," he murmured to her, seeming as though he wished to reach out and touch her, but was unsure how she would react with another set of eyes watching them.

She nodded, "I will go check on Merry, then rest," she promised.

Though he doubted she truly would rest, with their final battle looming it seemed not many could find such peace this night.

He gave her a nod, before turning with Boromir to depart.

Menna let out a long breath and looked up at the skies, perhaps it was best Boromir had interrupted. She had been about to say something to Aragorn and she was not sure it was the best time, so near the end of the war.

After, she promised herself, after they survived, and they would survive, she would tell him then that she loved him in return.

~8~

Aragorn crossed one of the halls of Minas Tirith, finding that which he had sought, for there was something he had to do after planning with the men, after speaking with Menna. This woman would stand beside them in the most dangerous battle to come, she would face down the eye of Sauron himself for the chance to save Frodo, save them all. She had faced the evil temptation of the Ring and he had seen her overcome her own darknesses. She had proven herself a true Queen, now he had to do the same and prove himself a King.

There was one trial left in his way, one test he had left to face to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was ready to be king, worthy of it.

He strode straight to where he'd learned the Palantir was held, and threw the cloth covering it away. He closed his eyes, taking a breath before he reached out with is left hand and lifted it, holding it before his face. He could feel the power of it trying to crush him, struggled to overcome it as he opened his eyes and glared into the eye of Sauron as it stared back at him.

He cared not for the black speech it hissed at him, speaking instead, louder than it, "Long have you hunted me," he proclaimed, "Long have I eluded you. No more!" he used his right hand to drawn his sword, to hold Anduril up before the eye, "Behold, the Sword of Elendil!"

He grit his teeth as an image of Sauron appeared in the pupil of the eye, such horrific visons filling his head, ripped right from his nightmares and portrayed as though prophecy, of him failing, of his people falling, of Menna killed on the battlefield.

But he would not be swayed nor influenced nor intimidated, he had faith in himself and his people, in the Fellowship and his love, he would not be so easily stopped.

He turned, hefting the Palantir up and thrusting it at the ground, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

He would not be defeated.

A/N: I feel like this was a major step for Menna. She went from being Nameless as a self inflicted punishment, to using it as a tool to provide her freedom to take part in this final fight. She doesn't feel like she deserves it any longer, but sees the use in it. She's owned the sort of 'power' that comes with being Nameless and, as she chose to become it, she can choose to relinquish it too.

I think, that moment of really breaking free from Wormtongue's influence, was realizing WHEN she began to think so poorly of herself. In that moment, she realized it wasn't HER. It wasn't anything she would have ever done in her right mind. It wasn't her choice or decision but someone else influencing her. And that's a sort of little loophole and what kicks her into really feeling like she can reclaim her name one day.

Losing Theoden and nearly losing Eowyn, too, I think, is what may have pushed that thought that she deserves happiness. She deeply regrets that Theoden didn't learn the truth from her, and she's going to have to live with that the rest of her life. But, in a way, losing him the way she did has made her realize things. She deserves to have her family back, she deserves to have a name, she deserves to have people who love her know who she is and be free to love her and to love them in return, even to be able to mourn them when she loses them in the open and not silently in the shadows. She may reclaim her name, or she may remain Nameless for the freedom, but whatever she does it will be her choice and done for her and no one else :)

On another note...darn it Boromir! I feel like after this Aragorn should just have everyone wear bells so he can hear them coming and lock the doors so they stop interrupting him and Menna lol :)

So Menna DOES know Aragorn is actually the king of Gondor, or at least she is partly aware he is but can sort of convince herself otherwise until 'I'll believe it when I see it' sort of thing. To her, at first she really did think it wasn't true, but she is observant and she's learned to read people over the years. She knows when others treat someone like a king vs a leader and that Aragorn is that. She mostly teases him so he has someone that treats him like a man not just a king, so he knows she sees HIM not his crown :) And, also, until he's actually crowned he's not 'technically' king so she's not completely wrong in her teasing ;)

I debated adding in the part at the end with the Palantir or either leaving it out or putting it in the next chapter, because ending it with Menna's last thoughts would have also been a good spot. But I felt like they're going into battle soon and the next chapter would be better focusing on that from the start. I know in the movie Aragorn was more alarmed with what he saw in the orb and that he drops it in sort of shock. But I felt like Menna being there has changed him and his outlook on a lot of things, as he has her. He's more confident in his role as future-king, he has more confidence in Menna surviving (especially with Boromir now back), and he's more determined than ever to defeat this threat so he can have the future he desperately wants. So it sort of morphed from that to a more 'challenge accepted' reaction from him :)

As for Boromir, it was sort of condensed, what happened with him during all this, but I actually feel like him being in Gondor actually made things worse, especially arriving after they thought he was dead and with such strange companions. His father was NOT kind to Faramir in the movie and a lot of it, I felt stemmed from being the second son and not the favored heir. Having Boromir back would, I think, especially with a war looming, send his father into a sort of spiral of 'I have to keep him safe' because he had a second chance with his heir and he will NOT risk Boromir so he sends off Faramir. He just refuses to listen because 'what if the wizard bewitched him?' How can he trust his son or the wizard? Especially when another 'white wizard' was working for the enemy too?

I also get the feeling that Pippin, bless the poor man, may have let slip about the life-debt at some point and that would just enrage the father even more that now his son and heir has a life debt to someone, and to a NAMELESS person, and it's all a big, big disgusting situation to him and now he HAS to keep Boromir away. And, maybe, before the Quest, Boromir would have been the dutiful son and obeyed his father, but he's changed from the man he was, he's grown, and he's learned. He IS torn because this IS his father and he has some filial loyalty to him, but he also has his king and future-Queen to think on and he does the best he can to take control with the least amount of chaos or destruction. He plots and plans and as soon as he can, he basically takes control from his father...which sends him over the deep end :/

Some notes on reviews...

Lol, Menna definitely loves teasing the 'please, you are NOT a king' thing :) She sort of knows he is, but it's just too much fun to tease him about it :) And, technically, until he's crowned he's not king so she's sort of right ;) I like to think that Theoden gets to the other side and sees his son and looks around expecting to see his niece and only sees his sisters and their husbands and his lost family but not her. And Theodred just smiles and explains Menna and Theoden is just so relieved she lived and came home and knows, one day, he'll see her again :)

It really killed me to have Theoden pass the way he did, not knowing :( I do like to think that he passes on and is surrounded by his lost family and maybe he just looks around and doesn't see her and is confused but hopeful for what it means till Theodred tells him she lives :) Lol, Menna is partly aware that Aragorn is the King, there are too many signs for her to outright ignore, but she can tease him about it and convince herself he isn't until he's actually crowned...because he's not technically king until he's crowned king ;) So that'll be an interesting event :)

2 more chapters left, so by the end of next week we'll be at the end of the story ;) I feel evil to say it, but I'm a teeny weeny bit happy the chapter brought a tear to your eye, means I did a good job in the angst department ;)

We'll find out very soon, only 2 chapters left :) Lol, just imagining Boromir and Aragorn marching off to battle with Menna in tow, the last battle will certainly be interesting ;)

I wish she could have told Theoden too :( I tried everything to make it work, but the timing and who she's been built up to as a character just wouldn't mesh :'( But we at least got a more clear promise from Menna about Eowyn in terms of a reunion. We just have to wait and see if Menna survives the battle and how that reunion might come about };)