A New Beginning

Boromir fought a smile as he observed Aragorn pacing across the hall of Minas Tirith, it was not often one saw his King so uneasy, but an unease born of anticipation than fear. It was the day he would be crowned King of Gondor! It was an honor to be able to stand witness to such an auspicious occasion, and, not for the first time, Boromir could not help but thank what powers there were that he lived to see this day. For the first time since he had tried to take the Ring of Power from Frodo, he felt content and at ease with himself, the guilt over his action finally fading with all he had accomplished and fought to do since then. He had more than made up for that crime, he felt, having helped fight to defeat the darkness that created the Ring.

He felt at peace and at home now, though Aragorn's pacing was dulling that quite a bit.

The man felt out of place, he knew, as though he were not himself, not at home in his skin. It was an understandable notion, for Aragorn's hair and beard had been trimmed neatly, his skin washed and cleaned, with the finest of clothing adorning his body, truly fit for a king. Aragorn was not one for such extravagance, having only agreed because it was tradition and something his people needed to see, their king, a true king, reclaim the throne in all its glory and splendor.

In truth, he knew Aragorn was just eager to be done with this, to have the pomp and circumstance over with so he might do what he had finally come to do and rule his people well.

The fact that he had not yet begun the procession to his coronation site was only adding to his agitation, Boromir knew.

Aragorn had insisted that, on his walk to the site, he be accompanied by all of the Fellowship, for he would not be in this place or ready for this responsibility without them. They were all there, dressed in their own finery, ready to begin their walk.

All but one.

Menna had been absconded by Eowyn a short while ago and had yet to be returned.

He and the other men had the means to obtain a finer set of clothing, all of them being better off than Menna, in so much as they had a family, a legacy, coin if they had need to buy their clothing. Menna did not, she had but the clothing on her back and one set spare in her pack, none of which was fine enough for such an event. She had tried to urge them on, that she would stand among the crowd and watch, citing she was not truly a sworn member of the Fellowship and that Aragorn should walk with those who had been there from the start.

None of them would hear of it, all of them insisting to aid her in a search for clothing, offering coin to buy something, but Menna refused. She had never been one to take as a gift what she had not earned and she did not go upon this Quest for coin to buy a pretty dress.

Had it not been for Eowyn and Eomer, watching the argument play out in amusement, Menna would have continued to drag out their debate much longer and likely won, she had that way about her. Eowyn had offered to let her borrow one of her gowns for the occasion. It was not something Menna could deny or argue against, she would not be given it to keep, nor buy it, nor waste anyone else's coin for it, it would be lent to her and returned after. Eowyn, it turned out, was quite a strong woman even with a newly recovered arm and had half-dragged Menna off, the woman protesting as she went, but she went indeed.

It had been some time ago though, and with every minute that passed beyond the time Aragorn had planned to depart, his pacing grew worse.

Legolas, Gimli, and Eomer had found themselves in a discussion about the different types of drink in Rohan, for the drinking game they partook in last time had featured only one beverage. The Hobbits were blissfully imagining the feast that would come after the coronation, while Gandalf rested on the edge of a window ledge, blowing magical smoke creatures with his pipe. It appeared only he was paying any mind to Aragorn, though he was not going to step in, it was far too amusing to see the king out of sorts.

Sadly though, as all good things must, it came to an end eventually, when Menna appeared, Eowyn at her side though the Noble Lady of Rohan appeared to be pushing Menna forward by the small of her back. She straightened, her hands clenched in front of her when she saw him observing the interaction.

It was not long after that Aragorn's pacing stilled, having seen her as well, which served to draw the attention of the others, who all began to stare at her, much as he and Aragorn were. Though they could not be faulted for it, never had any of them seen Menna in anything resembling a gown before, never had they seen her looking like a true Lady and not a thief in the forest.

Menna stood before them in a gown of light blue, the very one Eowyn herself had worn to the celebratory feast in Rohan just after the battle of Helm's Deep. It fit her well though it was clear the gown was intended for Eowyn, the woman a bit taller and a little more filled than Menna was, having grown with ample food than scavenging for it in the woods. But it suited her pale skin, the faint gold of the embroidery making her hair shine. They had never seen her hair hanging freely before, falling in waves around her shoulders, falling just a little past her bosom. Eowyn had strung two braids on either side of Menna's head back behind her to hold some of the hair back. The two women looked much alike as they stood there, side by side.

Menna fidgeted the longer they stared at her.

"You look lovely, my dear," Gandalf was the first to speak, chuckling at their reactions, for while all the men there seemed stunned, Eomer was gazing fondly at her, though it was possible he sent such a look to his sister for her assistance and job well done.

"Yes!" Pippin squeaked, clearing his throat, "You look nice."

Merry scoffed beside him, "She looks more than nice, Pip."

"You do," Boromir added, "Very regal."

If he was the only one who caught the subtle hint to Aragorn, so be it.

Aragorn himself seemed breathless at the sight of her, taking a step towards her as he looked her up and down. There were so many thoughts in his mind that he could not find a single one to speak to encompass all of it. She looked far more than nice or regal or lovely, she was beautiful, but that had nothing to do with the gown.

When his eyes trailed back up to hers, he knew exactly what to say.

"You look uncomfortable."

He pointedly ignored the noises the others made at his likely unseemly remark.

Menna, though, cracked a smile, "I am."

He returned her smile with one of his own, "As am I."

Menna eyed HIM now, up and down, before narrowing her eyes in playful consideration, "Well, you certainly look the part of a king," she smirked, "What sort of production should I expect? Will it convince me?"

He chuckled, "I suppose we'll see."

He held out his arm to her, intent for her to walk beside him out into the crowd. There were a number of reasons (excuses) he could give her for why he did so. It was only polite she walk before the men, that he offer his arm to her as a gentleman. It was to assist, should she trip on the long gown. He wanted her beside him in all things. He wanted his people to see her, to know she would be their Queen one day, one day soon if he had anything to do with it. That they would all be walking two by two as it was, and for him to walk alone meant another of the Fellowship would be left alone as well. He prepared himself to give any number of them should she hesitate in taking his arm.

But, for once, Menna didn't hesitate or shy away from it, looping her arm through his, careful of her excessively long sleeves, to begin their walk.

Boromir smirked as he and Gandalf followed, with Legolas and Gimli, Sam and Frodo, Merry and Pippin, and Eowyn and Eomer behind. It was not lost on him the significance of Aragorn's gesture, at where he placed Menna among them, nor did he miss how she accepted.

~8~

As they all gathered in the courtyard of Minas Tirith, the Fellowship stood to one side, having moved there after their procession accompanying the king, watching on as Gandalf stood before Aragorn, on the steps to the hall, holding the crown high above his head. Aragorn was kneeling before him, his head bowed in respect for the ceremony. As many people of Gondor as could fit in the yard had collected there to behold this new chapter of their lives, this new beginning for their kingdom.

There had been many serious words spoken by Gandalf, many vows he extracted from Aragorn, to ensure before the people he would be the great king the Fellowship knew he would be. Menna could not remember a word of it, it was a blur to her as she was sure it was to Aragorn, for this moment, THIS was what it all came down to.

"Now come the days of the King!" Gandalf intoned, "May they be blessed!"

And, with that, he slowly set the crown on top of Aragorn's head, smiling at the man as he looked up at him, now a King. He stepped back, allowing Aragorn to rise and walk up the stairs to where his throne had been brought out. He had chosen not to hold this in the halls, closed off and walled in, but in the courtyard, open and exposed, where all could see. For that was the king he wished to be, seen among his people, one of them, not hidden away or distant.

As he reached the top step, he turned to face his people as they clapped and cheered for him, as the Fellowship did in earnest. He smiled at his friends, his truest companions, before he spoke to his people, "This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace."

Even more cheers and clapping resounded at that, sounds of wonderment dawning as flower petals began to drift down around them as though by magic. And, given Gandalf's sly smile, it likely was.

Aragorn was not done yet though, opening his mouth and beginning to sing a song all recognized as the song of Elendil, his ancestor, "Et E rello Endorenna ut lien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn Ambar-metta!"

Out if the great sea to Middle Earth I am come. In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the end of the world.

It was a fitting rendition to mark the beginning of his reign.

Aragorn nodded his thanks to his kingdom, moving down the steps and walking among them. He passed Faramir, Eowyn, and Eomer, who bowed low to him. There was a look in Eomer's eye as he did so that gave Aragorn pause.

As a king himself, Eomer was not expected to bow to him, not so low, not so deferentially, a mere nod of the head in respect for an equal would be enough.

To bow, there was only one time a King would bow to another King, usually when a great treaty of peace was made.

Aragorn smiled, giving the man a nod of promise, a hand on his heart so he would know it was serious, that he would not betray the faith Eomer was putting in him. Eomer smiled as he stood, returning the nod in agreement, in blessing.

Aragorn turned then, to the Fellowship, to his friends, to Menna, who stood with Boromir beside her as the man always was, and approached them.

"My friends," he smiled at them.

"My King," Boromir spoke, bowing low, as did Menna and Gimli, the Hobbits a little further to the side, waiting till Aragorn spoke to them to offer their congratulations.

"How much did you pay these people to go along with this?" Menna wondered, teasing in her voice, as she straightened.

Aragorn let out a booming, joy-filled laugh at her question, he should have expected it.

Before he could answer, a small retinue of Elves approached, Legolas among them, having gone to greet them in his stead, leading them over. He reached out, placing a hand on Legolas's shoulder, "Hannon le," he thanked the Elf, not expecting them to bow to him, for they had their own kings among their people.

Legolas have him a deferential nod, though he was somewhat tense as he turned, stepping to the side to reveal Lord Elrond among the small gathering of Elves, only part of the few still left in Middle Earth.

"My Lord, Elrond," Aragorn greeted, nodding his head to the Lord, earning one in return. He reached to his side without looking, to take Menna's hand, tugging her only slightly so she stepped the single step to his side, "This…this is Menna."

To anyone else it would appear he introduced her merely because she had not been there during the formation of the Fellowship in Rivendell. But it was more than that.

It was important to him, that this man know who she was, see her with his own eyes. Elrond had sent Elves, in small part to ensure Menna survived the battle of Helm's Deep. He wanted to show the man that she lived still, that their efforts to protect her had succeeded. He wanted Elrond to see her beside him, to know he had chosen her, that they had chosen each other. And…he wanted the man to see he was happy, exceptionally so, for he knew he would speak with Arwen when next they met.

He wanted Arwen to know that he was happy, that he would be happy, and that he hoped she would be too.

That she was not there did not surprise him. Elrond himself had said she had already departed for the Undying Lands. It would not be sensible for her to go there and then return here to go back. This was the only way he could thank her, for letting him go, as he had her.

Menna smiled at the Elven Lord, bowing her head a moment in respect, before greeting him, "Gîl síla erin lû e-govaded vín."

Every head in the Fellowship turned to stare at her.

Until Gimli let out a raucous laugh.

She had spoken in Elvish, the same tongue Legolas had struggled to teach her, the same one she butchered so many moons ago. Yet she said that greeting, 'a star shines upon the hour of our meeting,' smoothly, without falter or flub.

Menna glanced at them, "What?" she asked, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"You…" Legolas actually appeared to struggle to find the words, "You know the Elvish tongue."

"Some," she admitted with a small shrug, "Basics," she added, "I DID travel with a small group of them for a time," she reminded them. She had told them as much when talk of Athelas came about.

"Why did you make like you did not?" Boromir had to ask, recalling the truly laughable attempts she'd made to 'learn' even a simple phrase from Legolas.

"Were you not entertained?" she asked simply.

Truly, she had never said she did not know the Elvish tongue, only asked to be taught it. How else would she have understood Haldir's warning that the Orc armor was vulnerable under their arms and in their necks? How else would she have been able to shout the order to them to protect Aragorn when he'd fallen in the explosion during the battle of Helm's Deep? And if her poor attempts to learn from Legolas made the Quest brighter if even for a moment, it was well worth it to have them think her grasp of languages that terrible.

Gimli only laughed harder at her question.

"Well met," Elrond responded, a small smile on his face as he gathered enough of their questions to work out what had happened. His gaze turned to Aragorn, "We are pleased to see you reclaim your throne, Estel. And we wish you great fortune in the years to come. The Elves shall depart Middle Earth, the time of Men has come."

Aragorn inhaled deeply at the man's words, knowing for a long time that this was coming, but to hear it happening was another thing. Soon enough not a single Elf, save perhaps Legolas, would be left on this plain. And, not for the first time, he found himself thankful he had met Menna, that she had given him the forethought to realize how lonely an existence it would have been to condemn Arwen to. He was sure now, more than ever, that he had made the right choice.

He gave Lord Elrond another nod of respect, before he stepped past, moving for the Hobbits as he had been before, though he did not let go of Menna's hand, urging her to walk with him, beside him. He let out a soft chuckle when the four small men began to bow to him, lifting a hand to stop them, "My friends," he cut in, waiting till they straightened and looked up at him, "You bow to no one."

And, before the eyes of all, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the King of Gondor, knelt down before them, far more than a bow, for they deserved it and more. Menna was quick to join him, as were the others of the Fellowship, before the rest of the people, all in attendance, even the Elves, knelt to them as well.

For all of Middle Earth had been saved by the heart of Hobbits.

~8~

Menna smiled contentedly as she found herself walking the halls of Minas Tirith beside Aragorn, the man having quietly led her out of the main hall where the feast for his coronation was occurring, likely needing a moment of calm and quiet and less people. She had thought, perhaps, he wished to speak to her, for why seek out HER to join him if not that. But, when he had yet to say a word for a number of minutes, she could only give him an odd look.

"Yes?" she asked, urging him to speak his mind.

"I have given much thought to the relationship between Gondor and Rohan," he began, a topic she had not thought he would broach to her, "After all their assistance, their bravery in the face of Sauron, it is only fair that Gondor restore the friendship between us once more."

"Restore the friendship," she repeated, before continuing, assuming he was asking her thoughts on the subject as they had once spoken of how he would have advisors around him to aid with decisions, "Well, it cannot be done by the traditional means. You and Eomer King, no marriage could come from that…"

"Eomer is not the only of Theoden King's blood."

Menna stopped her walking, forcing Aragorn to turn to face her as well, her heart pounding in her ears as…trepidation filled her. Two thoughts warred in her mind at his words. One thought spoke that Aragorn must be speaking of something else, making a jest or something, for…she had thought he meant to express a courtship between the two of them before he brought up Rohan, he had implied he wished her with him always. But now he spoke of an alliance with Rohan…one which typically meant marriage. Another thought chastised her for being so foolish as to believe his empty promises, for he was king now and of course he would need an alliance with other kingdoms and how could she possibly think he meant it when he said he loved her?

She pushed both thoughts from her mind. The Aragorn she had come to know would not have done the second, but she could not ignore what he was implying in the first.

"It is clear to anyone with eyes that Eowyn has a fondness for Faramir," she began, careful to keep her wariness out of her voice, "But it would not mean much to the people for the Lady of Rohan to be wed to the former Steward's second son, that is not a binding means. It could only be a marriage to you yet, I do not believe you would be so cruel as to separate them after all that has happened," she sighed, swallowing down the excuses she was giving him, for if he broached this topic for her advice, as he seemed to think she was good at dealing, she had to think of it from every side and not herself personally, "Eowyn would, of course, do her duty to her people as the King's sister and…"

"I was thinking another of Eomer's blood would be better suited," he looked at her intently, watching carefully as he spoke next, "His cousin, in fact."

Menna frowned, tensing, "Eomer and Eowyn are the only ones left," she said, "There is no cousin."

She could have admitted the truth in that moment, revealed who she was but...this was not the time nor the manner in which she meant to do it. She intended to speak to him of who she was just…not today, today was HIS day, his coronation, she would not make such 'startling' revelations to him on a day meant for him.

And…perhaps…a part of her was just so used to denying it that it became her first reaction.

"I should sorely hope that is not true," he remarked, "For I very much think she is the only Queen for me."

Menna looked away, "Aragorn..."

"I would have had her crowned beside me, had I not known that she would refuse taking such a momentous day from me," he chuckled softly, having seen through her denials to the reason behind it. He reached out to turn her face back to him, "If she would but say the word I would wed her tomorrow. Whether she reclaimed her name or not. She may take mine, I give it to her freely."

He spoke the truth. He would marry her whether she was a Princess of Rohan or the Nameless thief she claimed herself to be. It mattered little to him, for when they wed he would give her all he had, his name included. He spoke, now, only for those he knew would push for that union with Rohan after all that happened, and this would give him both of it. It would give him Menna and an alliance, and it would restore her family and her name which he knew in his heart she had not deserved to lose. The more he thought on it, the clearer that was.

When Boromir first broached the idea of uniting Gondor and Rohan, when he first commented on whether Eowyn would find happiness beside him as Queen, his mind had turned to Menna, to that same question, whether she would find happiness as his wife or if it would condemn her to disquiet. He cared little for her status, for any woman who stood by him through this Quest was more deserving to be his Queen than any high born lady in all of Middle Earth. But would she be happy?

The more he considered it, the more he believed she would. Not in being Queen, she did not seek a crown, but in being his wife and he her husband. To be able to give her a name, his name, to give her a home, a people, a family...to return to her all that had been taken, to offer her a place in this world and a love she long thought out of her reach...something deep within his soul told him she would be happy with that, simple as it may be.

She may even come to accept being Queen, for she had gone to great lengths to protect others on the Fellowship above herself. She saw value in every other person, she would sacrifice what little she had to keep others safe. And wasn't that what a Queen was? A mother, a protector, someone to nurture and fight for her people? She would bring up things he had not thought of, she debated with him, she had brought up concerns for his kingdom when she had not even believed him a king in charge of it.

But then his thoughts had turned less to Menna as his wife and more to Boromir's words of uniting Rohan and Gondor.

It had struck him, just then, so many small details he truly had not connected until that was mentioned.

A connection to Rohan.

Menna exhibited a number of them, too many to be coincidence.

She knew their words, might speak their language. She wore a necklace of their crest. She knew their customs, had gone to honor Theodred with the very white flowers that had been cast onto his grave before even seeing his grave for she had not taken part in the burial rites. She had told him so herself when she had helped escort the two children to the Hall, where she had been before then, why she had been with Gandalf and Theoden.

She knew their Forests, knew the way to Helm's Deep, knew the passages in Helm's Deep! Menna had not seen the tunnels and caves the women and children had gone to, but she knew the door at the back of the main hall in the keep would lead to them. How? Why?

The more he focused on those connections, the more other pieces began to fit together.

She was terrified of horses, which Rohan was famed for breeding. She had no skill with a sword at all, a sword, not a mere blade as she herself affirmed the difference in, swords which the Horse Lords and Shieldmaidens excelled in. She abandoned her home, which fell to darkness…just as Rohan had. And felt she deserved the punishment of being Nameless for betraying her family when they had need of her.

She had been a child when this happened, that much he knew.

A woman who spoke the Rohirric language, who referred to them as Eorlingas as only those of Rohan did, who called him a Dunedain as only those of Rohan would. Whose home fell to darkness, whose family she considered lost. Who knew the customs and ways of honor of the Horse Lords. One ashamed of her past, a princess of Rohan afraid of horses and lacking with a sword. A child susceptible to the terrible magic of Grima Wormtongue. Who would not part with a pendant of their emblems no matter her dire straits. Who knew the ins and outs of Helm's Deep and Fangorn Forest as only a child who had explored it could. A woman who thought the greatest crime one could commit was to abandon those you loved after she fled her home in fear of having shamed them with her very being.

Menna had hailed from Rohan.

What's more, he knew in his heart she was of the royal blood.

She could have said anyone in Rohan, from whom she'd stole her pendant. But she said a princess, then changed it when Eowyn asked. At the time he had thought it mere preservation, to not be seen a thief or to have done ill to the lost princess. But now he truly believed she WAS that princess.

Theoden King had only 4 of his blood survive to childhood from infancy, one had been lost at a young age. He had heard tell of it in his travels, how the King of Rohan was mourning another of his kin.

She had not died, she had fled, Menna had fled.

A child would see that as such a horrible crime as to punish themselves terribly for it.

Perhaps he could have been reaching, grasping for a plausible way to marry her, her being of noble blood, without proof…but then he had seen her and Eomer.

Eomer embracing her, speaking to her, at her side always, trusting her so suddenly. Eomer smiling at her so fondly and so intently. She was a woman whom Eomer looked at both as though seeing a ghost and as though every prayer he had ever made had been answered yet felt no need to marry.

That thought, that suspicion, lingered in the days and weeks to come, building more and more with every action and event he witnessed thence.

The care she showed Eowyn too, not only when the woman had suffered a nightmare, but when she had seen Eowyn's fallen body on the Pelennor Fields. Her reaction had been bare for him to see, the devastation, the grief, the guilt, the fear. She had no reason to react so strongly to Eowyn's fall unless she had a personal connection to the woman.

Eomer seeking comfort from her as he healed Eowyn, Menna accepting his embrace, trying to soothe him, it looked more like two siblings waiting in fear of the worst for a third than two strangers, one, who should not have trusted the other, seeking comfort from them instead.

And then Eowyn, embracing Menna in the Houses of Healing, gazing upon her with tears of joy and a smile on her face, hugging her so tightly, as though something lost was returned. Eomer with them, that moment that only family could share. And that word she had called Eowyn weeks ago when she had had a nightmare came back to him, she had called Eowyn 'cousin' in the language of Rohan.

He knew then, Menna was a princess of Rohan.

"Aragorn please," she whispered, not denying him, having long since run out of the desire to lie to him, "If this is only for an alliance with Rohan..."

It was a testament to how far she had come that her words hadn't been about whether he deserved someone better than her.

She was no longer that damned Nameless girl. She had made amends the crimes she felt she committed. She fled her home when darkness settled over it, and returned to fight it back. She felt she had shamed her uncle, her king, and her kin and family, and grew to make them prouder than anyone could be. She thought she lost her family, and gained them back. She was not the proper fit for a Princess of Rohan with her fear of horses and lack of skill with a sword, but was just right to be Queen of Gondor with her strength of spirit and skill with her knives.

He knew this was, in part, a test. He had not broached this the best way. She was justified to bring up his words, to fear he was only wishing to wed her because of this unification to Rohan, that was poorly done on his part.

Now he just had to prove to her that he would wed her if she was still Nameless with no tie to anything.

He gave her a gentle smile, "It matters not where my Queen hails from, nor the family she has or has not, nor even the name she bears. I care only that she be a Queen who walks among her people, not looking down at them from the back of a horse. A Queen skilled with a blade more deadly and less common than a sword, just like her. A Queen who understands what it is to have nothing, not even her name. And a Queen who loves me as I love her, with all my heart."

Menna looked away again and he let her, watching the range of emotions flitter across her face, feeling his heart racing with hope that was slowly building within him the more he saw the emotions settle. Her sorrow and grief, her fear and hesitation, giving way to hope, to admittance, to acknowledgement, to a soft joy that would make even the brightest of sunrises seem pale in comparison.

He smiled as she turned to look at him, a smile on her face as she looked into his eyes, seeing the truth of his being, of his heart. Her eyes searched his for a long while, before she nodded, taking a breath and squeezing his hand in acceptance.

She leaned in, pressing the sweetest of kisses to his lips, before resting her forehead to his own.

"You have given me your hand and heart," Aragorn murmured, "I would ask but one more thing from you," he did not dare speak louder for fear of shattering this moment, "Your name."

She let out a small laugh, tears in her eyes, happy, for once in so long, genuinely happy. She did not need her name, she realized in that moment. She could remain Nameless, or she could accept Aragorn's as he was offering his in marriage. She did not NEED it, but she wanted it back, she deserved it, she wanted to be herself, her true self once more.

And so she nodded.

"Blodwyn," she finally gave in, "My name is Blodwyn."

The End

A/N: It's over! I'm not sure whether I'm happy or sad lol, happy that the tale is complete and Aragorn and Menna get their happy ending, but sad because no more story for them.

I really liked the parallel between this last chapter and the first chapter of the series. To go from Nameless to reclaiming her name, her family, and her place in the world. To not need to do it, but to finally feel like she has earned it again was beautiful :') She's not telling Aragorn her name just to marry him or because of any outside reason besides that he wants to know all of her and she wants to share all of herself with him too :)

As for her real name, from what I understand Blodwyn means Fair Flower. I felt that was fitting given the white Horse of Rohan, the white flowers that grew there, the little 'wyn' ending to it similar to Eowyn. And how not many flowers can grow and bloom in the dark, Menna could not become who she was meant to be until she had left the darkness behind and stepped into the sun. Leaving her family was something she felt ashamed of, and being without them was one of the most difficult things she's ever experienced, but in the end it was necessary to become who she is.

I really hope you all liked this last chapter, the coronation, the teasing, Menna in a dress lol :) To me, Aragorn very much would have declared to everyone Menna would be his wife and their queen as he was being crowned himself, but Menna would never want to take any spotlight off of him. He worked and grew so much for this day that she wants it to be HIS and his alone. So he held back. And her hesitating to tell him her name even when he asks, is more that she really does want it to be all about him, not anything to do with her. A sort of nod to the fact that she DOES know he's really king and accepts him as it, that she believes the day is that important, and he sort of alludes to the fact that he knows she just teases him about it. It's like for once it's not because she feels unworthy because she's Nameless, but just because she loves him and wants him to have this day for HIM.

As for Menna's little Elvish trick, I hope it wasn't too out of place. I tried to hint that Menna knew at least the basics of Elvish and was just having Legolas on to make the Hobbits laugh. She understood what Haldir warned about the Uruk armor being weak at the neck and under-arm, which was why she aimed her knives in those specific locations without anyone translating the warning to her. She was the random voice that called out 'Vare Aragorn (Protect)!' during the battle too ;) Again, she's not fluent, she's not suddenly going to speak it with Aragorn as a secret language, she knows very basic things from her time travelling with a few Elves that's all ;)

Aragorn and how he put two and two together for Menna being a princess of Rohan. I hope it wasn't too 'he just figured everything out too quickly' :/ I feel like, with so many people noticing those coincidences with Menna, that Aragorn HAD to notice something. Maybe he didn't realize he'd noticed or made the connection, but when Boromir talked about Rohan and Gondor uniting, it was his epiphany moment, the thing that made sense of all the 'odd' things he saw between Menna and Eomer and Eomer's behavior. All those little things came back to him, BUT he also kept on observing after that moment, picking up on things, stumbling onto Menna when she thought no one was looking. Calling Eowyn 'cousin' was probably a giant red flag lol :) But he also didn't want to just corner her and confront her, because he knows her story, or the version she believed, and he would sort of, I think, be more likely to allude to her that he knows the truth IF she wants to tell him but he won't push her and it won't change how he feels about her one way or the other :) I think, also, he'd want to wait for her to trust him with the information herself, here he was leaving it open and she came full circle to trusting him by giving him her name :')

Now we get to a little treat before the closing notes :) When Aragorn was speaking with Elrond a few chapters ago, I debated whether to include a sort of flashback or thought on Elrond's part of the vision he and Arwen saw of Aragorn's future, but decided to keep it a little closer to Aragorn's perspective. So I'm going to add them here in a tiny excerpt of what they might have actually seen as they saw it :)

~8~

Elrond:

Aragorn stood upon the balcony of Minas Tirith, a smile on his face, a crown upon his head, as he waved down at the people below, cheering for their king. But it was not merely Aragorn who stood there. No, at his side was a woman, with blonde hair tied back in twisting buns, in a long white gown touched with red trip, a more delicate crown upon her head. Aragorn was not smiling at the crowd, but at the woman, gazing at with such unbridled joy that the woman seemed flushed to be the target of it. He chuckled at the sight, lifting his right hand, for he was waving with his left, revealing he was holding her left in his own, to press a kiss to her knuckles. The crowd was overjoyed at the sight, praises of 'Long Live the Queen' echoing faintly, a coronation for Aragorn's new bride. The woman gave him a soft look for the gesture, before lightly tugging her hand away from his lips though she kept tight hold of his hand still, lowering it back down between them...and then shifted her hold just enough to lead his hand to her stomach, a meaningful look on her face. Aragorn's eyes widened for only a moment, the breath leaving him, before he beamed at her and ceased his waving to pull her into a sound kiss...

~8~

Arwen:

A woman stood at a balcony, her back to the archway behind her, looking out at the sky. Her gown was long and brown, her hair in a simple plait down her back, perhaps mistaken for a servant had it not been for the fine cut of the gown, the clearly quality material. A moment later she seemed to hear something, turning and smiling widely, crouching down as a child appeared at the corner of her vision, a young boy not even 5 years of age. He rushed to the woman, his clothing soiled with brown and green stains, grass in his mop of blonde hair, throwing his arms around her neck as she held her arms out. She laughed, seeming to nearly fall back at the force of his embrace, before winding her arms around him, uncaring of the mess, and stood. She spoke to the child for but a moment before looking over when another man, older, stepped in and joined them on the balcony. Aragorn, with but a few streaks of gray in his hair, his beard more fully grown than when last she'd seen him, dressed in rugged clothing, equally as dirty and muddy as the child's...with the softest expression on his face as he took in the two before him. The woman beamed at the sight of him, reaching up to touch his cheek as he lifted a hand to press hers more firmly to him, guiding his face down to her own to press a kiss to his lips. Aragorn pulled away a moment later, stepping closer to her, shifting ever so slightly, enough where her back was to her once more. She could see Aragorn's face, the wonderous adoration in his expression stealing her breath, the devotion, the care, the love, he felt for this woman bringing tears to her eyes, an emotion swelling in her she had not expected when she thought to depart Middle Earth and leave him alone. He would not be alone, he would not be unhappy, and he would not be unloved. She watched as he rested his forehead to the woman's, merely content to breathe the same air, to enjoy the stillness of the moment, the child tucking his head into the woman's neck as only a son could its mother. Arwen gasped lightly when the vision began to fade, the child shifting to rest his chin on the woman's shoulder to look at her with a tiny smile on his face...

~8~

Elrond didn't fully know who Menna was, her status, until he reached the camp and heard a whisper or two of the Nameless girl. He's very old, I think he could put two and two together about the woman in his vision and the Nameless woman who arrived with Aragorn ;) As for Arwen, I think that was what she really needed to see to know it was ok to leave, that she wasn't going to be leaving Aragorn sad and alone, that he would find love again and happiness :)

I picture Menna and Aragorn having five children in all, 3 boys and 2 girls. I didn't want to reduce Menna to just a baby machine, but she IS young and Aragorn will live a very long time, at least, perhaps about a century after her passing if his own broken heart doesn't get the better of him. The children would probably be spaced out a few years apart for each child, and I picture at least one of the girls being named Menna, sort of reclaiming that part of her past too, taking something that should be 'Nameless' and giving it a lineage and a legacy :)

I also picture Boromir literally always following Menna (the Queen, not the daughter) around and annoying Menna to no end because she doesn't need a bodyguard, she has her knives! I also see him as thwarting an attempt or two on her life and Menna going 'ok, we're even then?' and he's just smirking because 'no, it's my JOB now to protect you' and just making her even more annoyed and constantly asking Aragorn to release him from his duty so that he can stop that nonsense and it just never happening. Boromir lives to a ripe old age, finds a lovely woman, marries and has children, and one of his sons takes up the role of Queensguard when Boromir can't. He's content with the life-debt not being fulfilled, because it's not about a life-debt any more. It stopped being an obligation to keep her safe and more a privilege to be so trusted with that duty :')

I think that's pretty much all I wanted to say about the chapter/story/future :) Menna and Aragorn live long and rule well, they remain true to themselves and love each other to the bitter end. Their children continue their legacy, with diluted blood so the lengths of the reigns get shorter until, eventually, it's a normal lifespan. And they just have a good life :) The main point of this story, the Queen's Gambit part, the risk that the Queen takes for a victory, was basically the culmination of Menna's time with the Fellowship, the risk she took with her own life in the ambushes and battles and war that occurred during it. That was her gambit, risking her own life to try and help free Middle Earth of the darkness and it worked :)

So that's all for Menna! :') The next story I'll be posting is a sequel to a Doctor Who crossover between 3 OCs on October 13, and then I'll be starting a new DW series on the 16th, followed by a Sherlock story in December ;)

And, just to end...I really have to say thank you guys SO much! Really, I give each and every reader/reviewer/favoriter/follower/ko-fi giver/anythinger a virtual hug because you guys are amazing :) I write for all of you guys and I'm just so touched that you all liked the story and am truly thankful that you're enjoying Menna :) I'll do my very best to keep it up in the future, because you guys most definitely deserve it. I love you all :')

Some notes on reviews...

I picture Menna giving Eomer a false sense of security, not getting on his case about what he did, and then one day it's 'hey, want to go explore the Fangorn like when we were kids?' and he agrees because he's terrible at denying her anything now that she's back, and the next thing he knows his limbs are stuck to a tree by knives in the sleeves and she's 'threatening' to leave him there if he doesn't apologize. And he can get out of it easy, it's just fabric, he can rip it, but he goes along with it to appease her, just still so happy she's alive :) But lol, she definitely had her 'doubts' about the coronation ;)

Lol, she's definitely like 'ok, where did you get the money to pay these people to go along with this?' :) We certainly got a big wallop of Aragorn's observations and thoughts on Menna in connection to Rohan here ;) I felt like, with so many people spotting these little things, Aragorn HAD to notice and put the pieces together too :) I hope you liked the visions! As for her name, we got that too ;)

Oh no worries, I rather like vampire Spike ;) I hope you'll enjoy the stories when they're up! :D